25 posts tagged “mom”

This is what just happened:

Mom: Oh, honey, can you maybe write all the numbers down on a piece of paper and we'll call you back and get the numbers later?

Me: Yeah, or I can just email them to you.

Mom: OH! YOU CAN EMAIL THEM TO-- (to Jan) She's gonna email 'em! You. Are. So. Smart.

Me: ...Thanks, Mom. 

Yeah, I don't understand why that's so funny either. I'll be picking apart that one in my brain today for sure.

BTW, I'm setting up an Etsy shop to sell all these scarfs I've been making at home. You can buy 'em. 

Don't forget that I'm tapering down my blogging here and moving over to Tumblr, so add that shizz to your RSS feeds sandwiches. 

The other night my mom came home really drunk from a party with my step dad and she asked to make a video with me. She wanted to talk cooking in her crockpot. 

Oh, and this was her when she just came in the door:

So I did what I'm always telling you guys to do. I went into my Google Reader and I downloaded all my favorites jams from this blog. Then I had my friends send over some choice tracks. This is what I was able to put together. Hopefully it passes the test:

1) Don't leave your husband (aka the source of your wealth) and hook up with your kid's 19 year old friend 

and 

2) Don't let your chihuahua get hit by a car in your own driveway.

This morning around 6:30, my step dad was taking off for work (late, I think-- he usually leaves around 5:30 or something because he's hardcore about work), and my mom and I were getting the dogs ready to go for a quick morning walk. 

Up until yesterday, Wags has never been off-leash because we live in a city and he's a maniac. He would run away from me and into traffic and not even know what he's doing. Since this part of the universe is covered in snowflakes, Wags can't go too far without freezing his junk off and I knew he'd stay close to me, so I let him out the door of the house and into the driveway without a thought. 

Where does he run? To the bushes to pee? Certianly not! We have Persian rugs! Why would he urinate on a common bush when their are heirlooms to destroy? He didn't run to the track that he was running around in the backyard either. Nope. Not even into the middle of the black ice covered street.... Wags ran to find warmth behind the back left wheel of my step dad's running Jeep. Right as he was about to pull out of the driveway.

So, like, I go in to Mom Mode when my son is being threatened. I have taken after him barefoot out many a front door and down driveways into the street. That's happened. This was worse in some ways because 1) He was in extremely close to a running vehicle's back wheel 2) It's fucking cold and my step dad had his heat running, the windows up and was probably a little tired. I run out of the house after Wags, waving my hands in the air like I was landing some sort of aircraft screaming at my step dad "DON'T MOVE!". At this point my step dad waves at me and I'm all "Fuck, he thinks I'm saying hello or something" so to make sure he knew what was up, I pretty much lay down on the ground behind his car, reaching for my dog who wont come to me because he's found "the warm spot" or something. Like, basically Wagandstuff is being a clueless prick. He starts snarling at me and then a moment later, my mother, as we are both frantically trying to keep his young life from ending. 

Finally as a last resort, I just start running around the driveway trying to make Wags think I'm leaving him, because that's the only thing that will motivate that little Mama's Boy bitch to move. I take off in to the house, nearly breaking the screen door and he eventually takes the bait and runs after me in to the kitchen.

It was then that I yelled at him profusely using a lot of adult human words that he doesn't understand until I felt he had suffered enough to earn himself a treat. 

You guys, that little shithead that runs my life almost died this morning in my very own driveway. Just like Linda Hogan's chihuahua did when her bodyguard backed over him. That was pretty fucked up.

Happy being alive still, Wagandstuff. 

You can't really tell, but my mom is soooo ghetto. In a suburban honkey kind of way. Her necklace? It was a pin that said "Mother" that she had turned into a Carrie Bradshaw necklace.

Now she just needs to be swingin' her rag:

Guess who hates Kim on Housewives too?

Yeah, that'd be my main bitch, aka Momsies

This is my sister Samantha and I about three winters ago. Her cheerleading team just won regionals, you guys.

This is us doing gymnastic things (as I call them, anyway) on the living room floor in the old Lexington house. This was New Years Eve my Senior year of college before I went in to the city to see my high school friends from Newman. When she said "let's make crazy faces", I had no idea she was committing on the level she did. She could rubberface me out of a web series, I bet.

Anyway, I'm excited to go home and see my family over Christmas. And make videos. I gotta make the videos. I still watch this one from last year once in awhile:

I am thinking about going home for a real week or two because I officially can do my work pretty much anywhere as long as I am there (and I am always with me) and there's a computer and like, some wireless. I gotta get my wireless on when I am outside of my comfort zone. I can't be editing on another machine.

And BTW, I am less enthusiastic about my family when I am with them because I am stubborn and spoiled by the amount of time I've been living apart from them and occasionally I get dramatic about the whole "blended family" situation, but I miss them a lot and really can't wait to kick it around the wide screen with National Treasure, eating chocolate and possibly fighting over who touched their nose (Eh, that's probably a story for another time. It's 4 AM.)

via passiveaggressivenotes

On the phone Sunday morning:

Me: Friday and last night was Girl Talk.
Mom: How were the pot cookies?
Me: Oh. (pause) Good.
Mom: I read about them on your blog. I just wished you hadn't used a cookie mix.