Thursday, December 31, 2009

MErry FN New Years or What ever!

It must be New Years EVE! Oh yeah, how can I tell?


Is it all the streamers here at work? NOPE

Is it the fact that they are letting us out early? NOPE

Is it the fact that ice sculptures and pretty lights are all around town? NOPE

How can I tell? My husband is SICK! Yup, SICK! Oh poor baby, you might say…not me…I say cut the F_N Shitzki MF and get FN BETTER!

Bitch? YUP, that’s me. I have put up with a lot of shit but seriously?

I am going to give you three instances in the last three years and then this…you tell me if I don’t have the right to be BULLSHIT beyond BULLSHITTEDNESS…

Okay, so, my older brother is getting married (so for the second time-whatever-it is still a wedding) and we are getting ready to leave and my husband starts whining his belly is bothering him. He left me at the wedding. Okay so I jumped ahead three or four hours but I am not joking, He left me at the wedding. I was stood up or jilted, whatever, at my brothers wedding. I had to find my own ride home because he got too sick to stay and I was sick of listening to him moan.

Okay then, it is my 25th reunion from High School, six weeks after my dad had died and I have just paid and arm and a leg for us to attend, we were there less than 2 hours and WE HAD TO LEAVE! He just had a freaking testicle removed as well as a hernia repaired and yah, so the kids were sick too, but REALLY now? Did we have to go? YUP…

Okay now the last one, this summer, we plan a weekend long reunion for a group of people that I was very involved with when I was a teen. There were upwards of 100 people attending. He comes down with this attack of the killer kidney stone the week before and needs surgery. You might be saying, “wow, this bitch is brutal” but seriously! NO SERIOUSLY! I had to clean and prepare our summer camp by MeSelf! (Okay little lie there; I had three boys that I beat into submission to get things done in time) I was a little PO-ed

I know the vows said in sickness and in health, but I would like some health…

Tonight we are invited to the first New Years Eve party in YEARS!!!!! I mean, with food, and dresses, and champagne, and no kids, and friends, and everything else. And WTF ~ HE’S SICK!

He went to work today…I can just imagine the bullshit that he will come up with at the last minute as to why he cannot go. I am going! If I have to strap on the paddles and coast my way there on the riverbed, I am going!

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Anonymous...STAY AWAY!

Okay, Okay, I am getting pretty sick of it!

I could give a rat’s behind about the anonymous commenter’s.

But seriously?

Today, I got a whole bunch of comments on some of my last blogs telling me that their girlfriend cheated on them and now "see me have sex with her one last time" and a couple of lesbian sites. HELLO! I am pretty sure I am not a lesbian. If I was, my husband may not mind watching me, but I am pretty sure I am not. And truthfully, I really am not interested in watching you. 

So for the next few days I am going to enable the “whatever thingy” that people hate…sorry, but I can not stand to be interrupted by CRAP!

Weight Looser! That's me and my NY resolution...

I can talk about my family and put the world out there for all of you to see, why is it so hard to talk about myself? Okay, maybe not myself but how I look at myself in the mirror. The physical me, the person on the outside, the one that everyone thinks is me is the hardest one to talk about. On the inside, I am a bitch, a whore, a stealer, and a cheat. Okay, maybe not but on the outside that is how I am seen. All right maybe not. But here is my story from the last few years.


The year 2004 for me SUCKED! It started New Years Eve 2003-04 with my FIL bumping his elbow and chipping the bone. Two weeks later my dad had hip surgery. My FIL developed an infection that spread through his bones and destroyed his cochlea. My dad had the one in 100,000 freak cutting of the nerve and muscle during his surgery. My FIL and my dad called me non stop during that year because they could not find where the peanut butter could be found. During this year, Butter broke his arm and got facial glued the day he had his cast taken off, Peanut broke his elbow, my GMIL got very sick and well you know how it can go…bad year. I drank my way into 2005. Seriously, I was sick for three days; I was PLASTERED ringing in the New Year. 2004-2005, I gained a little weight, well that on top of the weight I didn’t loose after Butter was born. I stepped on my scale one day and pushed myself into a very tight pair of 20-22 pants. My life sucked. I was fat and had no hope of loosing it. Until one night, this girl I knew told me that she was loosing weight with a pill. I truly cannot remember its name but it had ephedrine in it. I lost 1-3 pounds a week for about three months. I felt amazing. I started walking regularly and then one day, I realized I had lost 40 pounds. I was PSYCHED! Well, my yippee yahoo time was very short lived. I went to the doctor for some belly problems I was having and stepped on the scale at the doctor’s office to realize that my bathroom scale was off my 25 pounds. HOLY SHIPYARD! That meant that when I started the battle to loose weight I was over 250 pounds. I still was over 200. Do you have any idea what that does to someone’s moral? Oh man, I cried, and cried, and then yeah, I cried a little bit more. I went home and threw my scale out the bathroom window. I know that was drastic but the fucking thing didn’t work anyway. My husband came home to little bits of scale all over the driveway and when he came inside to see me he knew right off things were not good.

I started Weight Watchers. I worked really hard to loose the weight. The week before my dad died I hit my 10% goal and was finally down to the weight I had thought I was. It was also the last week I went. I was very faithful for the last few years checking myself on the scale at work. I worked with Nutritionists that were very instrumental in helping me understand what I was putting in my mouth. When, where, how, and all the other aspects of eating.

I started working out a few times a month; yeah, seriously, at first this was hard. I never worked out; I didn’t go to the gym. I didn’t even know what the inside of a gym looked like. Well now, 2009 has proven to show me that it is all ending badly. 2010 I have a goal. I would like to go to gym three times a week, at least. I will get back to eating “good for me” foods.




I am going out this weekend with the $50 bill I have in my pocket book and buying me a good scale. I am going to kick some royal ass in the weight lost challenge. I will not post my weight until I know my weight. I will not post some sick ass pictures of my gut or butt. I will however loose the 30 or so pounds (once I know what I weigh) and get myself back to nothing but healthy. Join us if you think you got what it takes.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Good Bye 2009-stickie style

There is always a little sorrow in the passing of an old year and the ringing in of the new.  Mostly, for me it is the additional grey hairs that won't cover-up and the buying of new pants with every growth spurt of my children.  This year is very much like 2004.  I am so ready to say goodbye.  The year started out crappy with my old job, it got better in the middle for a little while, and is ending on a sour note as well.  May all of you enjoy your New Years Eve and be ready, 2010 is literally right around the bend. 


And now...brought to you by the sicky sticky herself.... SUPAH!









There is so much more that can be said but not summed up neatly in a sticky note.  So I leave you with one last thank you.  2009 was not all that bad.  When the worse of it was happening, I started reading your blogs.  It brought joy and laughter into my life when all seems low and depressing.  Thank you for your funny stories, Thank you for the good times, Thank you for your support and Thank you for being you!

Happy New Year

MaeRae

Monday, December 28, 2009

I Am Changing My Name...

I don’t believe in Karma. I don’t believe that bad things happen to bad people. I just believe that BULL happens. Lately, it seems as though that is exactly what happens.


I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. I am thankful for all the good things in my life. The health of my family for one. I hear many people the last few months talk about all the illnesses, flu’s, stomach bugs, and feelings of being on death’s door. I am very thankful for the fact that we have had some little bugs come into our home but nothing too serious.

I had a great Christmas. With all the hype leading up to the day and all the internal fighting within the family, there was only one incident that took place. And that was between my 13 year old and my 11 year old nephew. I will tell that story later. Now, I must tell you about the last few weeks in my life.

I am not the type of person to through my faith down your throat.  I am not the type to lecture you on yours.  I strongly believe that everyone's faith is thier faith whatever that might be.  Let me start by telling you, I believe in God. I believe in everything he does and that Jesus Christ was my savior, sent down to us. I also believe in the signs that the Lord sends to us. Today, in my inbox, I was sent a “Message of Christianity”. It was all about Job. The last few weeks, I have felt a lot like Job. I haven’t had my family killed or anything that drastic but man, I could use a break.

I have told you about Jelly breaking his hand and the surgery that went along with it. Lately, though it has been really bothering him. The doctor said it was the cold that was causing him pain. This is something that we have been dealing with regularly. I had the few weeks leading up to Christmas with the entire family bickering. I had a weekend planned with Butter, to do all the baking and wrapping, without the older kids around to interfere. A snow storm brought them home early. I told you about how I think I have a hernia, and how my eyesight is going as well.

The Monday before Christmas, I was on my way home from work and was involved in a motor vehicle accident. Okay, according to all the rules of the road, it was my fault. I drove right into the back of a woman’s van, when she stopped abruptly and pulled to the right of the road with no warning signs, like brake lights or blinkers. I totaled my van. I needed that car. I bumped the top of my head on the steering wheel. I was not even going fast enough for the airbags to deploy. It was a FREAK accident but not good. Now, I wait to find out what the insurance company will give me for my car. I am stuck in limbo waiting to hear. I know darn well that I am stuck. My husband and I have no available credit. We just replaced his car back in July and that was tough getting a loan for that. I stayed cool and calm the last week about the car thing. I even got back behind the wheel the day after.

Saturday night, I took a night for myself, to get out and do something fun. I got pulled over by the police for speeding and got myself a beautiful ticket for $180. When will my luck change? Is it even luck? I don’t think so, I think it just another test for my “Job”ness.

Happy Monday Everyone!

Saturday, December 26, 2009

From the Bubble!


It never happens, really it never does.  I have some stories to tell but that must not surprise you.  I am slammed with cleaning and catching up on things that I have pushed to the side for Christmas.  I will be posting some good ones but for now, a visual to show you a family Christmas!  Hope you all had a great day and I will be sure to clue you all in starting on Monday.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

I have finished them all...#8 for your viewing pleasure.

Oh my, oh my, have you ever had one of those weeks?


Ladies and Gentlemen, I have decided that on the Eve of Christmas Eve you will learn about one of the greatest, sweetest, most loving, strong, and physically attractive human beings. I saved the best for last you know. I am talking about the baby! #8 in the line of children. The apple to my mother’s eye. #8 is a super hero in my eyes and I can not say much bad about him at all. Let me start from the beginning.

#8 is obviously the baby in the group. There is a 17 year difference between #1 and #8. There is a three year difference between #7 and #8. #7 was not thrilled when #8 came along, so #8 learned quick to bounce back and take a good beating. My parents made me #8’s godmother. I was 10. Loved him like a brother (ha ha ha) He talked funny. He said things like mel for smell, and ate for hate. He sat 6 inches from the TV and still didn’t hear it right. When I brought my first date home EVAH! He said he idn’t like im at all e ooked funny. When #8 went to kindergarten, he failed the hearing test. He had impacted ear wax and it was too thick to remove without surgery. His ears didn’t drain the way most people did. They did the surgery and put in tubes. He was good to go and could hear just fine. He wasn’t the greatest student but worked hard for his grades. Went to Jr. high school and high school at a private catholic school and played football. He was the shadow of the two older boys and was very shy. He went to a party with #6 and 7 at one of their friends houses and met a girl. A very shy girl who spent at least an hour next to shy #8 on the couch before they even talked to each other. They fell in love. #8 went off to military college. She went off to a state college somewhere closer to home. The got engaged, the graduated college, he was shipped off the Wright-Patterson AFB. He came home, they got married, they both went back. He was transferred to Scott AFB, they bought a house, they came home for Christmas. They took separate planes. She got hurt on hers, she started swelling, it continued after she went home, she saw doctors on base, they blew her off, she saw more doctors on base, they blew her off, she insisted on seeing someone off base. She was diagnosed with cancer. Rhabdomyosarcoma. This was very rare for a girl in her late twenties to be diagnosed with it. She fought, and fought, and fought. She got tired and could not fight anymore. She died three years after they were married. Almost to the day. #8 took a tour in Kuwait, and then another immediately after in Korea. The Air Force was civilianizing his position and gave him an early retirement. He sold their house, he move back home; he arrived 4 days before dad was diagnosed with the liver cancer.

He has since had a few WHACKO girlfriends…one of which told him that our family purposely buried our father next to his ex wife because we didn’t like her. Oh yeah that happened. Any way, he now is single, he is back working for the Air Force and is driving a new car, has a new house, is working on a new life and super trooper through the whole thing. #8 and I golf together, we love to play cards, we love hanging out just shooting the shit. #8 and I get along famously. Well, truth be told #8 and EVERYONE gets along famously. He is a fairly happy go lucky kind of a guy. I don’t post many pictures of my family on line but I am going to post a picture of him. Don’t you just wish you could pinch those cheeks? Oh yeah, and he is single.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

POST IT NOTE TUESDAY

Every Tuesday I forget all about Post-it Note Tuesday, this practice allows you to sum up all you have to say in a clean little post-it. This week I don’t think I can sum it all up…hence the multiple comments between the post its.


This week-as well as every other week-Post-it Note Tuesday is brought to you by the one and only, the super fantastic, the uber blogger queen, SUPAH (hear the applause?)

It has been a few weeks since I did Post-it Tuesdays so for those who need to read back…sorry,



Today at work we got a few little tidbits to make the week go by better…






My family is going to be the cause of my alcoholism or at a minimum my lung cancer and my obesity…





And last but not least…


There are a few people in my life that I truly value their opinion. About three years or so ago, I started walking at lunch time with a worker friend of mine. We loved to walk and talk and did so about three times a week. The best days were when we were by ourselves. “I” encouraged me to do things I never thought I would be able to do. She thought I should go back to school and get my masters in social work. I love working with the elderly. As a case worker, I could help people and that was another thing I loved to do. But most of all she encouraged me to write down the stuff that happened in my life. This little blog of mine was my thought but her little inspiration.


Thanks again “I”, I hope it meets your expectations.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Shoot me NOW! Don't wait until I die of something else...

I am a bad and horrible human being. I will tell you up front, with all the males in my family, there is no one named Will. I have no Will. I have no “Will” power. Tell me again, why, of all the times in my lifetime, did I decide to quit smoking on December 1st this year? As soon as I heard #3 was heading back to Massachusetts to celebrate Christmas, I should have rethought the whole thing. But wait, as usual, I am jumping ahead of myself with this story.


I have had the MOST amazing two days on Friday and Saturday. Let’s start with Friday. I worked only a half of day and had a date in the afternoon. #8, the baby, which you will learn a little more about by Friday, asked me to spend the afternoon with him shopping. We had a blast. We farted in some of the best stores. We told the sales people that our gorgeous dispositions and festive banter was all because of their amazing abilities to get us some great deals. We were in “the plural of lowest of the US currency”, and a young, very nice looking, salesgirl, followed us around for three departments asking us if we needed assistance. #8 thought she was cute, but I knew she was hot for me. It was my sagging boobs and flabber belly that made her like me. You know, with #8 it is all about him, this time he agreed it was all about ME. After the amazing service we got from her, the $18 dollar sweater I was buying our mom ended up being $11. SCORE! I saved myself 7 dollars. I told the salesgirl that I would jump the counter and hug her for the sale, but #8 told her she would have to wait in line, because the young girl wanted me more. We then went to the next “store there is a tower named after”, having saved myself $7 on the sweater, I found the cutest pair of underpants for my 16 year old son. Regular price $12, sale 25% off. I figured nbd, it was as good as free from the other savings. Get to the register and it rang up $2.49. NFW! This one got the biggest WHOOT I could come up with and then #8 made a good scene telling everyone they should rub my buttocks for good luck. It was really a great time.

I came home to the honey and the older two, ready to go on a campout and excitement all around. SEE YA! I love the campouts. This is my time to organize my house and spend quality time with my youngest. I had a plan for the weekend and Mother Nature had another. No Biggie! I am known for the fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants mentality. My afternoon plans became my morning plans, my afternoon plans were rearranged slightly, but still doable. And it was all okay. You see, I have this friend that I have mentioned a few times in my blog. She and I lost touch for a period of 20 years. It seriously does not seem like it has been that long. The only differences are, she has a husband and so do I, she has three boys and so do I, she has a daughter, well that I don’t. We are not in our teens anymore but we picked up right where we left off. She was going to be my afternoon plans but ended up my morning plans. Together we baked cookies with our two babies. We giggled and gossiped. We had a blast. Then I went to see BUGS! I joke you not. Butter had a pack meeting and they touched bugs and reptiles and snakes and yuck! The whole time I was in the pack meeting sitting with all of my bestest friends in the whole wide world (really need that sarcasm font ~sometime I will post how I figured out this weekend I am an f-n snob), I was texting my friend, who was on her way to the “bigcity” to pick up her son from college.

Okay, here is where it all goes awry. #1SIL calls as I walk in the door. “Are you home? I want to stop by and drop off the boys Christmas presents.” Okay, I am utterly confused. “Now? Is there something wrong with Christmas Day?” She starts to cry. Seriously, I hate women crying…I would rather have someone scrape their fingernails down a chalk board. It is not something I deal well with. Well, that is not true…a good friend in need, face to face so I can hug, I can deal with. Personally, it takes a SHITLOAD of crap to fall on me for me to cry. Maybe that is why I can’t handle the stress of another one. Immediately, I think, she is dying, someone else died, she is leaving my brother, there has been some sort of dire emergency that is pulling her away from Christmas day with the family.

NOPE! F-N #2 SIL called and told her that HER(#1) giving of the gifts at Christmas causes the kids to be unruly and spoiled. WTF BiaTch! Your kids are the way they are because you can’t won’t take control. You are more apt to be concerned as to whether or not you have had your umpteenth drink then whether or not your oldest is flushing one of the younger kids down the toilet. Why spoil someone else’s day? The nerve. #1 SIL spends from Easter to Christmas shopping for the kids. She never spends more than $3 on a gift and picks them up throughout the year because she thinks of that child when she sees things. She usually has 5 or 6 gifts in a gift bag and they all mean so much to her. But that is not at all what made me freak. #2 wanted #1 to drive all over freaking creation to drop off everyone’s presents. She wanted to change the way we do things. She wanted to change Christmas...okay anyone seeing a trend here? Bastards want to change the way things are. I have tried so hard over the last few years to be more like mice and less like the little people. I don’t want to be hem and haw, I want to be a sniff and scurry. But, the question comes up more and more in my mind…this has all started since Daddy died, what will happen when Mom does? Is that it? Is the family destined to be strangers? Are we all going to be doing things alone for the rest of our lives? Are my kids going to be like #3’s kids and not know who their cousins are? This is not the first change this year. First #5 decides that he wants a Christmas get together two weekends before Christmas, then #3 decides that he is coming up to show his son what a real family Christmas is all about, then #6 calls and wants to change Christmas day to Saturday, and now this.

The snow storm that we got on the East Coast caused my boys to come home Saturday night instead of Sunday. They arrived home at 11:30pm. Today, I screamed at Jelly and made him cry. I yelled at Peanut and made him cry. I hollered at Butter and made him cry. I called my husband a “lazy ass that is no help to me at all unless it is to keep the couch warm” among a few other REALLY bad things that were not even close to true. I went to the store and bought a pack of cigarettes. I smoked. I smoked two cigarettes today. I want to throw the pack away but I don’t know Will. He is not close to me. My family is. I cannot be the nasty “C” word I was today to my boys. I love them so much and they do so much to make me proud. I cannot be that mother, who out of stress and frustration of my siblings, screams and yells at them for something they have no control over. I can be the nicotine addicted person who sneaks out to have a butt just not to chew off theirs.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

I am dying...really I am.

Okay, let me tell you a little secret. I am dying. Yup, a slow and miserable death, that I don’t have time for. It all started last year. Just before I turned 40, I set myself up an appointment for the gyno doctor. It had been a few years since my last visit and I wanted him to say time to rip the plumbing out. I wasn’t using it. It was just an irritating piece of body waste that was taking up space. Well, he didn’t. Instead he attempted to get me to go on some IUD thing that would slowing pump hormones into my system that I did not need. See, here is the thing, I hate drugs, I hate pills, and I hate foreign things in my system. I certainly wasn’t about to have some plastic piece of crap in my body that secreted male progesterone into my blood stream through my uterus. So, I haven’t been back.


Just about 4 years ago, I slipped into this abyss of depression that I certainly had no clue how to come out of. I was extremely overweight, even after having lost 40 pounds prior to this time. I had no job. I had no prospects of making any money. I had literally quit my job because they were messing with my time. I needed to do something. So I joined weight watchers with a friend. I went faithfully. I lost an additional 30 pounds my life was looking up and I got a really good job. This is where I met the greatest bunch of women that anyone will in their lifetimes have the pleasure to become friends with. These girls were all a bunch of Nutritionist. They all were fit and healthy and were together working with me to become the woman I wanted to be. I started going to the gym. I toned up some of the extra skin and for the first time in many years I had the stamina to go do things that before was too hard to do from the couch.

Last March, I quit that job and got a new one-sometime in the future I will most likely post about the boss from H-E-double Hockey Sticks-and things were again looking good for me. (Oh wait, I forgot to tell you that when my dad was diagnosed with the liver cancer, right after I started working with these girls, I was determined that come hell or high water I was N.E.V.E.R going to get diabetes.) Where I work now, there is a gym in the basement and one of my coworkers introduced me to the CORE class. This class is three times a week and the purpose is to build your core muscles. Something I had none of. I do crunches and planks, I do leg lifts and flutter kicks. I am a core machine now. (Don’t tell my flabby belly…I want it to be a surprise for it) You have to understand that I have had three children. My first was 8lbs 11 oz, my second was 9lbs 10oz, and my third was 9lbs 9oz. I have mega flabber going on in the waist line. I also never had upper body strength and now I can do 150 pushups during class and 10 minutes worth of wall squats.

Oh yeah, there is that chicken again, my visit to the gyno. Here he asked me if I had been to the eye doctor lately. I questioned why he was asking and he said the reason was because when you turn 40, which I was to do in about 5 weeks, your eyes start changing. Well, he was right. My arms don’t seem to be long enough anymore. I cannot adjust from the writing on my pad to the computer screen like I could before and so now on a daily basis I get this little bugger of a headache about 4 in the afternoon. Not too bad but enough to make my eyes hurt and strain just that much more.

Okay, for me this is a big thing, my eyes have always been better than 20/20 and now I am going to need glasses.

But seriously, that is not why I am dying. This is why. Last weekend, I woke up with the stuffiest nose I have had in a long time. Not a cold kind of stuffy, but a “you slept with your mouth open” kind of stuffy. I got up and went to the bathroom to blow my nose. Okay for those of you with weak stomachs just jump to the next paragraph. I gagged on the crap coming up through my nasal passage and up through my throat. With every gag I have, I puke and pee at the same time. Another little benefit of having extra large children tunnel through your woohoo. When I puked, I felt this unfunctioning (my attempt not to swear) pain rip through my abdomen while my insides poured out about 4 inches from the inside into the pocket of extra skin I have around my mid section. I FN screamed. The pain was unfuntionable to deal with. When I inhaled quickly to catch a little breath, it flew back into the inside and now it feels soooo funky!

Here’s where I am dying. I don’t have time for this. I am in no point in my life where I can possibly stop. I have a job where I am going places. I have a kid with a broken arm that needs to be shuttled back and forth to appointments. The same kid is going to be starting orthodontic treatments in January. Seriously, I have no time. I am going to need to stop CORE workouts. I am going to have to be really vigilant about getting sick. If I puke again is it going to happen again? So, here I sit slowly dying. I hope I don’t bleed internally. Oh, and by the way, I may possibly be a little bit of a hypochondriac.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Now Serving Number 7

Writing about my brothers the last few weeks has made me realize a few very important things.


1. There is an entire generation coming up through the ranks, that are doomed by their forefathers…HA HA HA…that is funny because it really is because of their fathers. I have 4 nieces and 9 nephews, and I myself spawned 3 offspring (males). The only benefit for my offspring is that they are not going to be cursed like I was growing up as being ONE OF THEM.

2. My mother has continually told me since I had my second child, “I never dealt with any of these issues you seem to have”. No shit, if my mother had an ink-il-ing what we did as kids she would have killed us.

3. Life in my little bubble here on the internet is so much fun. I can spew all of the shit that happens and over the next few weeks there is bound to be tons of it.

Now on to the brother #7…

I really cannot even start explaining why my #7 brother is the way he is. Well, maybe a little insight into his past will give you some light.

#7 was born 11 months after #6. My mom went for her 8 week check up at the doctor and told him how sick and tired she was. The doctor blew it off. He told her that she had 6 kids at home she could not expect to just jump up and be feeling great again. So she took his word for it. When she missed her second period, he told her that she was just stressed. When she could not keep anything down and knew f-n well she was pregnant he did a test and VIOLA! She was right. However, when they did the ultra sound, yeah right, like that happened back then, they gave her a due date that she KNEW was too early for him. #7 was taken at least 3 weeks early. Hence the fact that, he was the tiniest of all of her children and had many health problems. #7 was the only one born with asthma. Others developed it later. He spent many a days in and out of the hospital and doctor’s offices. He could not keep weight on (believe me, that has changed). He got a lot of attention.

#7 was seriously put out that #8 came around 3 years later. He really was a spoiled BRAT, with a mouth on him that should have been washed out with soap. He got away with it. My husband tells the story of when we were dating; now remember my husband knew all of my brothers for years before we actually dated, #7 at the age of 11 asked my husband if I sucked his “youknowwhatsy”. NONE OF HIS F-N BUSINESS FOR 1-AND SO NOT APPROPRIATE FOR 2.

He still is that way now. In his thirties, he has been fired and boycotted by friends for his mouth. He realizes that this is an issue after loosing 8 jobs in the last 3 years. DUH, took you long enough. But here is the kicker, he has two little boys and his oldest one is 6. For the last two years he has thought it was funny to show off Little#7’s ability to recite all of the swear words you are not supposed to use in public. WTF! This kid is doomed.

Let me tell you another little tidbit that needs to stay between you and me…You cannot tell his wife ANYTHING! You know the game we used to play as little kids? Telephone or Operator or whatever it was and you tell the first person the first thing and then it goes around the circle? Yeah, she messes it up all the time. But in the bad sense. She twists it and turns it so you end up as the bad guy for everyone to deal with. It comes from her family, I am pretty sure. When they were getting married, my mom and I got numerous phone calls from her mother and grandmother saying things that kind of went like this:

Gram- “MaeRae, Diana wanted her theme for the shower to be blue and gold”

MaeRae- “okay, I will pick up the paper goods tomorrow at the Candle Factory”

Gram to othamotha- “I just got of the phone with MaeRae and she won’t pick up the paper goods”

Othamotha to mymotha- “Gram just told me MaeRae is refusing to participate in the shower because she hates my daughter”

Mymotha to MaeRae – “Okay, what the heck started this string of phone calls?”

MaeRae – “I will call and find out”

MaeRae to Gram – “Is there a problem”

Gram – “oh no honey, you said you were going to get the paper goods-all is good here”

Dealing with my SILs is a lot like this if you start with #7’s wife.

They are having some serious marital problems. Something about non-trust and stealing money from the household fund…I don’t know and don’t want to know. #6SIL started telling me about the issue at something just recently and I told her that unless my husband’s third uncle twice removed was in the story, I didn’t want to hear it. There is nothing I hate more than gossip. (BWAA HA HA…what the hell am I doing here? Oh yeah, that is like gossip isn’t it)

Thursday, December 17, 2009

and the list goes on...

I came to the conclusion yesterday that three more days and I am done with the brother talk. Then what? And it hit me. In three days, the world as I know it is going to end. In three days it is the weekend before Christmas. I don’t have my shopping done. I don’t have my wrapping done (or even started for that matter). And I don’t have my baking done…every year I say I am going to be better, I will be more on top of things, and this year is no different. OH yeah, it is, #3 is coming home for Christmas with one of his children, for the first time in 10 years. Oh, Help Us!

I talk to you today about the brother #6. As you can see we are getting down to the wire.

My #6 brother is awesome. He is the most laid back person and the easiest person to talk to. When and if you were ever to meet #6 you would immediately fall in love with him. #6 was kind of like the brush off child. He was born 3 years after #5 and 11 months before #7. He didn’t have much time to enjoy being the baby because he wasn’t for very long. Since he was a little, little kid he would wander off. Mentally and physically. We all went to an amusement park as kids and my parents lost track of #6. We found him 3 hours later following some little old man around the mini golf course. The old man said he had played 4 rounds of golf figuring someone would eventually come and get this kid. Too Funny! We lost him at Hampton Beach once. He crawled up on some old ladies lounge and took a nap. He was gone about 1 ½ hours before the woman woke him up and brought him to the police. She figured someone would eventually come and get him. WE lost him at the Sterling Bicentennial Parade, because he curled up on some old man’s lap to take a nap and the old guy was afraid to move, since someone would eventually come and find him.

#6 was about 17 when he received the nickname Scarecrow. He went to the gas station to fill his tank on his way home one day. The gas station attendant and he got talking and #6 left without paying for his gas. Luckily, he knew the guy and the guy called and asked him to come back and pay. Duh! If I only had a brain?

For the longest time, we picked on him, we thought he was slow. Come to find out he was brilliant just didn’t have any cares in the world.

#6 met this girl at a bar and fell in love immediately. She thought he was cute but way too young. Two days later as my brother was driving down the highway he passed a car with a cute girl in it. It was the same girl. He followed them down the highway and convinced her to pull over and go out to dinner with him that night. He swept her off her feet and they were married 16 months later. She was 35 and he was 22. Big age difference but it works for them. They have two beautiful children, Brynna and my buddy, Aiden. To them I am auntie Bob. Love those kids. I used to think that #6SIL was a little over the top with antics and drama, I know it is the case but love her anyway. I really have no real funny stories for you about 6 because truth be told, he is just an all round good kid…oh wait, I just though of one. A few months back I was telling him about being an awesome mom. He called me last week for parental advice. Seems as though his daughter in an attempt to be funny, really screwed up. Brynna was born with congenital hip. She ended up with major surgery at the age of 6 and still walks with an awful limp. One of her girl scout friends asked her why she limped and she told her it was because she was beaten on a daily basis by her dad. Now, he thought he was going to be investigated by the DSS. I told him if they hadn’t knocked on my door yet the chances were slim that they would be knocking on his. KIDS!

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Wonderful Wednesday...#5

Boy oh boy, I am having one of those days today. I woke up this morning not even wanting to drag my lard ass out of bed and yet I did. My coffee did not kick it until I was on my way to work. My sciatica was acting up some thing fierce and then on my way to work…just about the time the coffee kicked in…I got stuck in the most unbelievable traffic. This caused me to be 25 minutes late getting in. Thank heavens, I have an understanding boss and she allows me to take it off my lunch.


The whole way in today, I kept thinking about how to post about my #5 brother. I did not get along with him as a child. I think the main reason was that he was so freaking cute that everyone paid attention to him and not to me. I used to carve my name into things as a child for attention and when I got into some serious trouble I started carving his name. I guess at the age of 6, you don’t realize that a three year old can’t reach that high or spell their name. Oh well, my bad.

As I got older and more independent of him it bothered me that he was getting bigger than me and when I was in charge of babysitting, he could beat me up. I started using my mother’s broom handle to take charge of things. He still tells that story now. Again, my bad.

When I was in college he hit on all my friends. Seriously, that disturbed me…what 18-20 year old would want to hook up with a 15-17 year old. But that is the past and now is the present. (How profound of me…in case you couldn’t figure that one out, duh). #5 is divorced now going on a year and he still hits on my friends, even the married ones. NOT COOL!

About 15 years ago, #5 and I had a great heart to heart, we realized that that was very childish of us back then and we became pretty close. He started hunting with my husband, showing up at the house for a dinner or a drink. We had a gathering of friends come for my 25th birthday and he brought this woman. She seemed nice enough, a little ditsy, but nice. They started dating, moved in together and eventually got married. On their first wedding anniversary they went away on a trip and she left him there. The following year they planned a cruise to Alaska and she left him at the airport with her brother refusing to go away with him. He got a dog, she got a dog. The whole relationship was weird to watch. We never could quite figure out why they were great one minute and getting a divorce the next.

Back up a few here…when we were growing up #5 was a little on the feminine side. I mean much more so than me. He wore tight jeans and a bandana around his neck…ALL THE TIME! He rode up and down the street on my purple banana seat bike. Come on now…picture one of 8 children-7 of which are boys-a neighborhood where there were about 60 kids or so (give or take in a 2 mile radius) 98% of which were boys, and #5 dressed this way from age 11 to age 19. Oh yeah, we made fun of him. Scott and Steve who lived down the street nick named him Sally. It was priceless.

Well, not getting into too much of his horrific, detrimental childhood, lets fast forward to 2 years ago. #5’s wife left him. This time she left him for good. She filed papers and moved out. She told him to grow up, take responsibilities for his own actions and start seeing a counselor. ----OKAY-DISCLAIMER HERE-IF YOU ARE A COUNSELOR AND TAKE OFFENSE TO THE NEXT PART-TOO BAD----He had some issues. His counselor told him that he needed to come clean to his family and since we had bonded so much the last few years it was important for him to talk to me first. OOPS-big mistake! I was with him for the first part and then lost it.

It seems that as a younger man, #5 did some work for a neighborhood man. This man would take him on trips and pay him to do chores. This man was a child molester. He was accused by another young man in the neighborhood. When the accusation came out my dad went to #5 and asked him plain out…”Did he do or try anything with you?” #5 looked right at my dad and lied. He told him NO! Absolutely NOT! So what is my dad supposed to believe? Now many years later he cannot seem to get rid of the feelings. He had been verbally and emotionally abusing his wife for the entire time of their marriage. He wanted my understanding. How was I supposed to give it to him? I, myself, had been sexually abused. I don’t and have never taken it out on my husband. I, myself, had issues in the past and still very much dislike, almost loathe, the person who had done it to me. But the kicker was, 1 year after my father’s death, he had the balls to say, his relationship with his wife failed because of his not being able to trust my dad! WTF is that! YOU LIED! And it is his fault? Again I ask WTF!

#5 now dates an f-ing crackpot that has some significant issues of her own. She spent the night Thanksgiving night yelling at #5 because his ex-wife called to wish us all a Happy Thanksgiving. If I have a few eggnogs in me on Christmas (ha don’t drink the stuff) or maybe a few shots of Bailey’s and Di Saronno® (YUMMY), I will not hold back on this chick! Let me loose, I tell you let me loose.

Oh yeah, and in case it was not evident up to this point, there is no bond between my brother and I at this time. Will it change? Maybe, I hope so, but not right now. As long as his counselor is telling him that his father could not be trusted and he is going along with that and blaming my father for the whole messed up emotional crap he is dealing with, well it won’t be then.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Back to the family-#4

It occurred to me when I started writing about #5 that most people just tuning in may not have realized or maybe I have not mentioned #4. The #4 child in my family is smart, energetic, positive, happy, self sufficient, friendly, caring, and anything else that you can possibly think is a good trait. #4 is me.


I don’t talk a lot about myself as an individual. I tend to consider myself one of my many identities when I talk about myself. I really am a well rounded person. I have my faults and here I will try and list them for you, but I suppose it is important that you get a little background on me as well.

I was conceived when my #3 brother came out of his coma. I was born 9 months later. I was born on Thanksgiving Day, a 10 pound baby girl. My dad was thrilled. I grew up the fourth child and the only girl so I was picked on quite a bit. I have learned through my youth that an extra layer of skin is not a bad thing to have. My brothers did things to me that big brothers do to little sisters (and one of them things that should not have been done) and I could always go to Daddy and get my revenge. Growing up, people would ask me if I were spoiled and I would say no, because really I wasn’t. I got away with a lot of things but I also got away with a lot less things.

My brothers were allowed out after dark, I was not. My brothers were allowed to ride their bikes to friends’ houses, I was not. My brothers were allowed to hang out at the corner, I was not. My brothers were made to clean their room; if I cried enough Daddy would make them clean my room too. That only worked when Daddy was home. Mom on the other hand saw right through me and boy, did I know it. I got away with nothing, with Mom. I was allowed to date when I turned 16 and not a day before. Believe you me, I tried to get away with sneaking out but my Daddy always knew.

My friend Carolyn had me sleep over one night to go out on a double date. Her boyfriend had a friend and that friend was the one with a car and license. Carolyn’s parents would not let her out with two boys so she needed to bring a friend. Hence my first date 2 months before my 16th birthday. It was however not a date! My second date was with #2’s good friend, my now husband, and one month before my 16th birthday. Again, NOT a DATE! My third date, my first official date was on February 14, 1985. ~Killer is some people reading this were not even born at that time….if that the case-I don’t want to hear it. ~ I dated this young man (Walter) for a year. I then dated Bob for three years after that…the whole time hooking up on occasions with my husband to be (htb). I thought Bob was the one…nope he wasn’t.

I went to college to become a teacher. I graduated with my degree in Elementary Education and certified to teach in the state of Massachusetts. I started working right out of college as the Director of Education for the Sylvan Learning Center. I worked there for two years and then got a job in a school system. It was while working in the school system that I got married to my honey and the following year became pregnant with my first child. I hated being pregnant. I threw up non-stop for 9 ½ months. I kid you not. I lost more weight than what I gained the first 6 ½ months. I was hospitalized on and off for the first 4 months trying to keep me hydrated and not dead. I gave birth to a 8 ½ pound baby boy one week after receiving my pink slip from the school. I worked for the next few years as a dispatcher for the local police department second shift so that my honey and I would not have to pay for day care.

My honey’s umbilical cord only stretches so far, hence the reason we never moved far from home. My parents and his parents live less than a mile away from each other. We live less than 5 miles away from either one of them. Although, I have 7 brothers, I am always the one my dad would call for help. I painted my parents house, inside and out. I repaired my parents’ roof with my dad. I mowed my parents’ lawn when my dad was laid up. I was the one who went and shoveled them out when it snowed. I was the one who helped every year open and close the pool. I made sure that the lawn furniture came up from the cellar and was cleaned and put out every spring, and put it back every fall. I was “the go to girl”, my dad used to say. I did it all without even thinking that I shouldn’t. My honey’s parents would call and we would be there too. It only stands to reason that after a certain point in time that all family functions included them too.

I had a job at a non profit agency that a friend’s mother got me the job. I was working there about 2 years when I became pregnant with my second child in the beginning of 1996 and had him 9 ½ months later. He was a 9 pound 10 ounce baby boy. About this time I decided that it was going to cost me more to work than stay home with my children and I started my own Tupperware business. AWESOME JOB if you can get it! I made a crap load of money toward the end and made enough to support my family. I had been selling Tupperware for about 4 ½ years and we had a big conference in Florida. I came home not feeling well and found out that I was pregnant with my third. Pleasant addition to our family, and my husband immediately got snipped! Since then it has been a whirlwind. In 2004, my dad had his hip replaced and had a ton of complications, my father in law chipped his elbow and ended up with osteomyelitis. It destroyed his cochlea and now he has a cochlea implant. #8’s wife was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. In 2005, Justine passed away, #8 was sent to Kuwait and my children broke 2 bones. In 2006, I started working full time and Daddy was diagnosed with liver cancer. He died 5 weeks after he was diagnosed. I still cry every time I think of him…I miss him so much. He was the back bone of the family. He was my valentine every year. He was my daddy and I will never be able to see him again. It bothered me intensely that during the time my dad was suffering and I was spending as much time with him as I could, I would constantly hear my brother’s wives say how hard this was on them. I would be pushed to the side by my mother to console them. It bothered me to no end that my mother stayed strong for them but let me “have it” in private. It still does.

(long pause) Sorry.

As I go through explaining some of the up and coming brothers, my anger may get the best of me. If it does, know that it was completely justified. Two of my younger brothers think the world revolves around them and they are the only ones that hurt. They blame much of their problems on my dad. I apologize now for the language I may use.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Thank you for a wonderful time

In and Out of the Bubble was put in place so that if I needed to vent or complain I could do so without any repercussions. Well, today I am doing neither. I am shouting from the rooftops about the time I had last night. I had the time of my life. Really, I did. No, there was no alcohol involved. I did not do the coyote ugly on the top of the bar. I did not have multiple orgasms, or even wake up sore this morning. I woke up with a smile on my face.


I spent last night with a group of 6 women that I enjoy spending time with. My children spent time with their children and had a really good time. Cards were played, video games exhausted, and the women made crafts around the table and laughed and giggled and ate (way too much shit-will have to starve myself for the next two to get rid of the crap I put in my body) and all out enjoyed each other’s company.

Thank You, guys…

I did come to a few realizations as the night went on, and I would like to share them with my blog for a few...

a. I am not one who can take an overstimulation. I quit smoking on December 1st. Really, I did. I have had a really hard time twice in the past thirteen days. I have been a real biatch. About three years ago, I went to a talk on addictions, mainly smoking, but was told that an addiction was a 5 headed monster, and once you realize which head you need to fight first you are on the way to conquer that addiction. The monster’s heads are behavioral, social, chemical, emotional, and psychological. I have conquered the chemical. I have conquered the social. I have been working really hard on the behavioral, (that is the one where when I have a cup of coffee or drive in the car alone I want one really bad). I don’t know which one is the problem that I have, is it emotional or psychological. I cannot survive overstimulation. I just can’t do it. Why, when there are so many things going on, am I at a loss? I start to shake. I develop a headache. Last night, I bummed a cigarette and removed myself from a group of 20, with laughing, 3 video games going on, a two and half year old running around. Just to be alone…well in a smaller group of people (me and 2 others). I didn’t even enjoy the cigarette. I didn’t even come close to smoking the whole thing. I took a drag or two and put it out; just to realize…this is why I have had a really hard time quitting…My family is an overstimulation in itself. I need to find something to do over the next few weeks to remove myself from the group and recoup. How?

b. I am an extremely STRICT mother! No, not just the kind that punishes her kids for doing wrong…but really strict. My son, not saying which one, told a group of kids this summer, a story about their brother. This group of kids told their mother. This mother told me the whole story. I was bothered by the fact that my son was ratting on his brother. WRONG!

c. I am an extremely PRUDE mother! I have a problem with my children doing drugs. If I were to find out that my child had tried drugs or alcohol I would find the need to talk to them about it. Can I punish them for trying things…no not really, I did it…but trying and sticking to it are a really bad thing, and that needs to be discussed. I could not and would not be able to sit with my child and smoke a bone. I would not be able to allow it to be done in my house. I would not be able to allow my kitchen table to become the bong central for my kids friends.

d. I missed out on a lot of these peoples last 20 years. I love them all dearly but feel like I lost out on something. I don’t know the pasts. I don’t understand some of the stories that were told. I feel a little like an outsider but I am so happy that they have all let me back in.

Again, I say, I love these women and don’t want to lose out on any more. Thank you, I love you all.

And the best part, I got rid of a car load of stuff-out of my house!

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Sittin' around on a Saturday

I have always suffered from the dreaded feeling of guilt! Anything could go on and if I were not a part of it and someone found out I would feel so bad. That is not happening today. #5 brother is having an open house at his place today and here I am sitting in front of the computer doing NOTHING! I have spent the morning playing Bejeweled on Facebook. I have done a few loads of laundry, but not folded them. I have made the kids clean their rooms and still I sit here.


The gathering started about 32 minutes ago, just about the time I dropped the kids off at a friend’s house and here I sit. I have this little ping of guilt raging through my system but nothing more than that. I have set a goal for myself today. Do nothing and enjoy it. Actually, it is more like do stuff that I want to do and not feel bad about it.

Tonight, I am taking the kids to another friends house to do some crafts…okay, let me be honest,…to sit around and talk to some women folk that I don’t get to see that much and pretend to do some crafts. There, that was that guilt thing, I didn’t want to lie.

Last night, I took my mother out Christmas shopping and she will be there today at #5’s house. I didn’t lie to her, I told her I was not going because I had stuff to do…and here I sit doing it…

Friday, December 11, 2009

#3 final addition...i am just too tired to go on for now.

Ugh, can you believe it is Friday already? I have been writing about #3 for three days now and I still have not scratched the surface of his ignorance or whatever you want to call it.

Needless to say with all the accidents that he has been in it goes without saying that there is a little bit of brain damage to boot. I have a really hard time with this brother because of all that he has done in his life time.

#3 met a girl…well, so to speak. Remember me telling you about #2’s first wife? If not go back here and read about it. Well, anyway, she had a friend. The friend was far from bright. Okay, as my dad would say, she was a few bricks shy of a load. #3, #2, and a whole bunch of friends were hanging around at the pond and #2’s wife to be arrived with #3’s wife to be. When they were leaving #3WTB announced that she had a little problem with her car. When she was pulling in she did not give any consideration to the fact that her car did not have reverse. (Idk…wasn’t there) The boys needed to push her car back until she could go forward. So they did, and in doing so ran over #3’s foot. Wonder screamed! She panicked and then drove forward, running over it again. Love at first sight. My honey tells me it was a match made in heaven.

A few months after they started dating, #3 proposed to his WTB, two months later they were expecting a baby. A few months later, they got married, and a few months after that they were becoming parents. They were producing babies faster than anyone I ever knew. They had 4 kids in 4 years…as soon as she became pregnant they were already talking about the next one…uh oh, got ahead of myself. When, #3 was expecting his second, he had a few issues with the police. He was stopped a few times for driving under the influence of alcohol. My brother drank, actually that is an understatement, my brother drank, A LOT! He was always drunk, if he was not drunk he was stoned, if he was not stoned then he was on some other drug. He was an idiot!

Okay, I need to say something right here…I will occasionally apologize to my dad for calling him an idiot but he was. My dad would yell at me all the time, I would call him an idiot and my dad would say, he was brilliant, almost genius level intelligence, he just had a processing disorder due to all the brain damage…okay whatever…he was an EFN idiot!

One night, my parents were away and my grandmother was watching the rest of us still living at home. We received a call from the police that #3 needed to be picked up from the hospital; there had been some sort of an accident. When I went to pick him up, mind you his wife was at home 8 ½ months pregnant and with a 13 month old at home, the doctor’s told me that they had to cut away his clothes because they could not figure out where the bleeding had been coming from. Come to find out, he was not bleeding. No broken bones, no lacerations (except one little one in the hair line), just a blood alcohol level of .8, and in desperate need of a shower. The police had confiscated his license and he was to appear in court come Monday. Dipshit was only concerned about the glass bottles in the back of the car. Come to find out, he had just been to the soda shop and purchased 16 cases of soda. Bottled soda, which hit each other, blew up and covered the inside of the car with Strawberry soda. #3 was put into rehab for the next 3 months.

When he came out of rehab, his daughter was 4 months old. He was sleeping one night and went into Gran Mal seizures. Back into the hospital. Seems the only thing keeping him out of the seizures up to this point was all the drugs and alcohol he had been on prior to…

Needless to say, as a person who has seizures, you are not allowed to drive, you are not allowed to operate heavy machinery, and surprise, you are not allowed to climb a ladder. So, here he was out of rehab and out of a job and another baby on the way. What to do, what to do…oh wait he had an idea, he would sell Cutco Knives door to door , in the project he lived in, yes, again, I must say, i.d.i.o.t! When that didn’t pan out he sold Amway! Oh yeah, he was gonna be rich…or not!

When he got his license back he became a cab driver, and one night he went to pick up a fare. As he approached the group he was picking up they surrounded the cab and pulled a gun on him. In an effort not to get shot in the head, he put his elbow up to deflect the bullet. Many, many years later…the bullet is still there.

I just realized that if I don’t wrap this up soon I will be writing about him for the rest of my life…

Readers digest condensed version of the next 17 years…the doctor’s told his wife to stop with the children, the last one was born with many underdeveloped organs and they did not think that her body would be able to have any more…she got pregnant 4 years later, my brother would disappear for days on end and then come back. He attempted to try to get some nookynooky one night and she said no, he asked what he was supposed to do and she said she didn’t care but it was not going to be with her since she was 8 months pregnant and sore…he took that as permission to have an affair and did. Left the wife and the children for almost a week without any food or money and hooked up with a drug addict from the wrong side of town, wife called me, I brought food and allowed her to go file paperwork on abandonment and kicked his sorry ASS to the curb…he now lives in Florida with his next girl friend and his youngest son. His older children live all over the place but have so many problems…his oldest tried to kill himself, the second thinks that she is gay (she seriously doesn’t know if it is a phase that she is going through or if she really is…it’s just that the girls at college are so much better than the boys), the third is trying to eat himself to death and the 4th is in college somewhere doing whatever. I could go on and on and probably will at some point but there is so much more dysfunction to be told.

If I don’t post or catch up with anyone for a few days…the hubby is gone and the boys and I have so much to do to get ready for Christmas. Have a great weekend!

Thursday, December 10, 2009

#3 part 2...oh yeah, this is going to take some time.

I have to start by saying the comments to yesterday’s post were hysterical. One comment that came up a few times was the brandy. Well, the brandy comes back.

So, when I left you yesterday we had just had a moped accident. The accident on the moped was a slight breaking point for my parents. Why can’t this kid have a normal walk down the street without getting struck by lightning? It was almost graduation time and what will they do after he is out of school? Well they really didn’t need to be too concerned…or did they.

#3 graduated from high school and a group of his friends had a little get together for him. There was alcohol involved and maybe, just maybe, drugs. They got together and started drinking; they drank for a few hours and were all having a great time. It was nice outside so #3 decided to step outside to have a cigarette. No one seemed to miss him. Two hours later there was a knock on the door and when someone answered it, it was the police. It seems as though there was a call from a neighbor concerned about an addition to the front yard at this person’s house. The group stepped outside and there, sound asleep, was #3, wedged in between two “V” shaped trees, with his pants down and his hand on his you-know-whatsy. They woke him up and he announced that he had to go to the bathroom; he leaned up against the tree to do so, slipped, wedged himself so that he could not free his arms and knew that eventually someone would realize he was gone and fell asleep. The police drove Wonder home, informed my parents that they could have charged him with indecent assault but figured he was better off at home instead. Again, remember, this was in the 70’s, small town cops were your neighbor.

#3 went to trade school to become a carpenter. Shortly after he graduated, he got a job at a construction company and made pretty good money. He still smoked, he drank, and he had an all out good time for himself.

I was invited to a party, about this time, I was 15 years old. I had never drank alcohol, well except for that one time at the age of 12 that #2 thought it would be funny to watch his little sister have a few shots of Jack Daniels, but that was what the party was all about. Kerry B’s parents were going to be out of town, she lived in the big city, and the class had been invited to go to Kerry’s house for a party. My parents thought that it was a sleep over. Well, technically it was. I told #3 that I was invited to go and he handed me two bottles. He told me that the first one would taste sweet going down but not get you too drunk, the second one would get you drunk fast but tasted like $HIT. I took both. Mark D and I decided to try the first bottle. So I took a swig, then he took a swig, nothing. So I took a swig, then he took a swig, nothing. This went on for about 10 minutes or so. I am lucky I am not dead. Mark and I finished an entire 5th of Ginger flavored Brandy in 10 minutes! #3 thought it was the funniest thing that he had ever done when they brought me home that night practically comatose. These were the kind of things that he did to me. Once, when I was about 11, we were in the basement and he found one of my father’s golf umbrellas, the kind with the big metal tip on the end, told me to put it in my mouth as he proceeded to open the umbrella up with the fast button. Ouch, did you know they can’t put stitches into your throat?

Okay, I just digressed into some of the reasons, #3 is not my favorite but I promise to keep on track for the rest of today’s post at least. Where was I? Oh yeah construction job. My #2 brother went into the marines and we were all to be farmed out to different family members while my parents went to Paris Island for the graduation. One week prior to the departure of my parents, #3 was at work, and SURPRISE! , he had an accident. Not a normal one where, ouch I hit my hand with a hammer, but this one was a doozey!

He was walking on the ground at a house site (sue me if I don’t know the lingo), where they had just delivered a ton of 2x4’s for the roof. As he walked along, one fell off the roof and hit him in the back of the head. He yelled “ow” and looked up to find another one falling. He ducked and was hit by that one. Looked up, saw another, ducked, got hit, yelled, looked up…you get the point. Until he was crouched down in the fetal position, yet still on his feet, as one by one the 2x4s hit him in the back of the head, driving his jaw into his knee cap, breaking his jaw and doing a number on his head. Normal person...would see the next one coming and MOVE! Yeah, not Wonder.

His friends came to see him in the hospital, slipped him a couple of nips, and then were surprised when with his jaw wired shut and on some pretty nasty pain killers, he started moving his jaw back and forth saying, “hey guys, check this out, I am not supposed to be able to do this” DUH! We spent the next week at my grandmothers, the entire time, he sipped food from a straw.

My brother met his first wife in a very unusual way. That will have to start tomorrow’s post because this could go on forever…just think…while you were reading this, your google reader just racked up 3 more blogs…maybe I should have just written a book on this Idiot! Sorry Dad…slightly brain damaged f-up!

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

#3 part 1...this might take a while

I really didn’t want to start this post. I was in a good mood today. I thought about putting it off yet another day but this brother I could write about for weeks and I don’t think that you will get the full understanding of my family dynamics with out knowing about #3.


Years ago, my brother’s friends nicknamed him Wonder. (You have to say it like “wondah”, because we live in Massachusetts and that is how we talk around these here parts…ha ha ha!.) There is a good reason why he is called Wonder and it has nothing to do with his real name. Here is the first part of my brother’s story.

When my brother was 2 years old, my parents lived in a cute little cape style house on a hill in the city of Worcester. My older two brothers were playing outside with the neighborhood kids and my bother. They were playing ball. The ball got away and #3 ran after it. He ran into the road and was hit by a car. He had a broken clavicle and a broken leg. He survived though. When he was three years old, they were all outside playing and the older boys ran across the street to play with the kids there and when my mother let #3 outside to play she gave him explicit instructions to stay in the yard. He didn’t. He ran across the street to play with the other kids and again was hit by a car.

Okay…I know, right now you are thinking WTF was the mother doing, why wasn’t he watched better? Who would let their kids outside when they obviously can’t take care of themselves? A three year old? Give my mom a break…this was 1966-67. We lived on a dead end road. This was in the middle of the day when people were at work. People didn’t have multiple cars … what are the chances of this happening…wait, as I tell you more with Wonder; you will realize that anything could happen.

#3 Spent three months in a medically induced coma to allow the healing to take place. When he came out of the coma, my parents celebrated and 9 months later…ME! ~

For a few years after that my parents were concerned about the city. My dad had got a real good job in Boston and wanted to move to one of the suburbs. So we did. This is Wonder flourished. My brother got to become very friendly with the kid across the street. The two of them were like peas in a pod. You know like the blinky lights on the top of a Christmas tree topper. (Not always working but pretty to look at) They were always in trouble. Late for the school bus, late for lunch, scatterbrained like you cannot even begin to know. Duh’s in plain English. One day Wonder and his friend were late coming home for dinner. His friend’s parents were really strict. They knew they were in some serious trouble. The rules were when the streetlight turned on you were to be home and well they were about ½ mile away from the street light and didn’t see it. When it started becoming dark they realized Oh Shitzki and started running home. The quickest way home was to cut across the golf course. As they were running, Wonder tripped over a string protecting the green. He fell and his elbow came up and broke a rib. The rib then went back and punctured his spleen. YUP! Only #3.

#3 did a lot of babysitting. The parents loved him. All the neighbor hood families had #3 as a sitter. He played with the kids and cleaned up after himself. He was a good sitter. One evening the couple down the street had him sit for them. When they came home, they paid him and sent him on his way. By the time he walked in the door, the couple was on the phone with my parents. #3 was in some serious trouble it seemed. They wanted to know where the pitcher of brandy Alexander was. Seems they had made a pitcher of it before they left so they could enjoy it when they got home. #3 didn’t think anything of it. He thought it was coffee milk and fed the entire pitcher of it to the kids for a bedtime drink. They were the one family who did not call him back.

When it came time for #3 to be able to drive my parents were very nervous. Instead of allowing him to buy a car, my parents thought it would be a better idea to get him a bike. Mr. Duca, great guy, loved #3. He asked my parents if #3 could come to work for him. He lived about 1 ½ miles away and if Wonder could meet him at his house every morning he would give him a job. Wonder rode his bike every morning but it was all up hill. Instead of adjusting the time he left the house each morning, he was late, everyday. Mr. Duca thought it would be a good idea to buy Wonder a moped. Dumb Mr. Duca. About three weeks after having the moped, #3 decided one Saturday to head to a friends house. Mr. Duca saw him driving and waved. #3 waved back and continued to wave back and drove the moped right into a telephone pole. Broke his cheek bone.

That brings us to the age of 17…he is now 44. I think this is going to take more than two posts…STAY TUNED.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Posting it Post it Style

Heaven's to Mergatroid Betsy, it is Tuesday again.  We all have things we want to say but this our chance to say it all neatly in a little post it note.  SupahMommy is the whole reason we do it...partly because she scares us and partly because she is so awesome!  Read along and check out the others...link up and find some fun of your own.



and now for mine...no commentaries for me you need to learn how to read into them.












Well that is all I have for today...don't forget to click on the top post it to check it out over at SupahMommy's place.

See Ya...


Monday, December 7, 2009

Tagging? or Playing tag?

I first want to apologize for being away for the last few days. We have implemented a new reward system for Peanut and it is working FANTASTICALLY! There was nothing left to take away, we had taken everything else. So if he turns in all of his homework and gets a good report from all of his teachers, he can choose one thing to get back for that weekend. This weekend he picked the computer. So when he wasn’t doing his chores he was on the computer playing with the stuff 13 year olds play with.


So bottom line is that I didn’t get a chance to post my 15 things that Tamara tagged me with the other day so today that is what I am posting. Then check her out at Over the Homespun Hedge. I apologize ahead of time for anything offensive I might say, but remember…this is my bubble.

1.) Have you started your Christmas shopping?

Just did this Saturday…started not even close to finished.

2.) Tell me about one of your special traditions.

Traditions for me never work out so we don’t have traditions. In fact, I kind of despise the word. I like to do things with my family that they will remember…for a few years we went out as a family and bought one Christmas decoration that depicted something that we did as a family. Then we would bring the decoration home (wall or tree ornament) and personalize it for that year. Lately, it is just getting through the season without major catastrophes…this year that did not work out.

3.) When do you put up your Tree?
We put up the tree this past Saturday and decorated it Sunday. Never is it put up prior to November 28th, it just doesn’t happen.

4.) Are you a Black Friday shopper?

Used to be, but lately the sales are not worth it to me. If I see anything worth it I give the money to my SIL who loves to do that kind of crap.

5.) Do you Travel at Christmas or Stay home?

I would have to say that travel is a loosely translated word. We wake up in our own house on Christmas morning. We then get in the car and drive to my mother’s house. My mom lives 5.7 miles away.

6.) What is your funniest Christmas memory?

You GOT TO GO READ TAMARA’S there is no way I can top that one.

7.) What is your favorite Christmas Movie of All time?

The Year Without a Santa Claus.

8.) Do you do your own Christmas Baking, what’s your favorite treat?

Yes, it would have to be 7 layer magic bars. But I think mine only have 6.

9.) Fake or Real Tree?

Fake, for years we could not figure out why Peanut and Butter were sick and in the hospital every January until we found out they were allergic to real trees.

10.) What day (as a Mom) does the actual panic set in to get it all done?

I don't. If it is done, then it is done. I cannot panic…it is not in my makeup.

11.) Are you still wrapping presents on Christmas Eve?

ALWAYS!

12.) What is your favorite family fun time at Christmas?

My favorite family fun is the shopping that I get to do with the kids for each other.

13.) What Christmas craft do you like the best?

Get the “F” out of town. Who has time for a Christmas craft?

14.) Christmas music. Yes or No, and if yes, what is your favorite song?

Yes, to a point. I like listening to it on occasion. I would have to say my favorite is Away in the Manger.

15.) When do you plan to finish all your shopping?

Do I have to? If so then it will be done by the 20th because I will not have time after that.

We would love for any blogger to participate in this meme, even if you haven’t been tagged yet. Heather will go back and add your blog link to the list if you wanna play along.

Just simply copy and paste the questions into your blog, and then answer them.

Then tag 5 or more of your favorite blogs, and leave them a comment telling them they’ve been tagged.

I am going to save you all and not tag more than I can because the others have been tagged.

When you post your blog, please spread some Christmas cheer, and leave a link back to Heather

Friday, December 4, 2009

It's Freakn' Friday Man

Oh My Word it is Freakn’ Friday. Where did this week go? It seems like just yesterday I was saying I cannot believe how slow this morning is going, and BAM! It is Friday already…


Okay, so today I am at a loss. I could post about my #3 brother but I am in too good of a mood for that and NO LIE that is at least a two day post.

I could start a 25 point questionnaire I need to fill out because Tamara has tagged me, but I would need to think about that to hard and it seems like a Saturday post to me…

Oh, I just thought of something I can post…

Remember at the beginning of the week, I mentioned my hubby was on vacation and he has a whole list of things that he was going to get done. I was so excited because I was finally going to get my stuff hung? Remember? Huh? Huh? Well I want to show you two walls…



This is a picture of my bedroom wall. There has been nothing hung on my walls since we finished the apartment 2 ½ years ago. Now, I am excited to show you the beautiful d├ęcor in my BEDROOM! Hold back your excitement, girls. I know that this is what every woman wants hanging in the corner of their room, but you cannot have it because I just filed the patent on it.

This is a picture of my kitchen wall at the beginning of the week…


This is a picture of my kitchen wall today…


It is kind of like the pictures that you get in the Highlights magazine…find the 5 differences…only…there ARE NONE!

Hold on to your F-N hats, there is more…

I had one request, only one, I really, truly, honestly, don’t ask for a lot around my house. I have always been a pretty independent person. I just haven’t had the time to do it. The battery or “what ever” on my key fob died last April. In September, I asked the honey on his last vacation to see if he could get it fixed. He told me at that time that he would have but it was going to cost him $50 to do it and we certainly had better things we could be spending that money on. I had to agree since I was on Martha’s Vineyard with my mother and women family members. So it waited.

Saturday was my birthday and my IL’s gave me a check for $40 and so I kicked in $10 (I deserve it) and asked him to get it fixed for me…He was going to do it this week. Surprise…it is not done.

And to top it all off, I had to wake up this morning and make my own coffee! Thank Heavens it is the weekend because I cannot stand it anymore!

Everyone, have a great Friday night...I am going out for a beer.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Home and waiting and #2

I am sitting at home right now waiting for Jelly to come home from surgery. Why does it seem to pour around here lately? Butter is sick with a sore throat. Has been for almost a week now and it doesn't want to go away. His tonsils are all swollen but the cultures keep coming back negative. How many times can you call the doctor before you become the one they won't answer the phone for...


Any who...I figured I would take this time for myself and try and forget why I am waiting. I will tell you a little more about my brothers. Today, we will talk about #2. There is so much to tell you about this one but it is hard not to sound negative. #2 is an awesome brother. He has his faults but they sound really bad when you put them down in print.


As I mentioned yesterday, we all lived in the shadow of #1. #2 was the worse shadow stander. Having watched this growing up, I try really hard not to do it to my own children. #2 brother is the epitome of the second child syndrome. He did things faster and more recklessly. He was the party animal from a very young age. #2 was brilliant the teachers would all say and yet he never applies himself (sound familiar?).

When we were little we used to spend the summers at a little camp in New Hampshire. Three of my mother's family members had camps there and they were all in a row. My Uncle Donald's family lived had the camp the farthest away. One day my Uncle Donald took all the boys to the hardware store to get them out of the way of the women and gave them all a nickel to put into the egg machine (gum ball machine that dispenses little eggs of prizes). #1, #3 and the two cousins got these cool ninja looking things and army men. #2 got a Snoopy Necklace. Being the nice brother that he was he came home and gave it to his little sister. (Basically thinking WTF am I going to do with it) I paid for that snoopy necklace for the next 36 years. Every time that #2 needed something done he would make me do it and then tell me it was because I was given the snoopy necklace.

That is how #2 runs. If something worked the first time he would use it over and over. That is one of the reasons he is married to his wife at this time. His famous line is "oh (insert woman’s name here), you look more beautiful EVERY time I see you". Yup, that was the line that won the woman’s hearts. And he used it on everyone.  (funny little side story here...we were all out one night having a few beers and playing darts and #2 tried that line on a woman at the bar.  She told him that she had heard that one before and if he could come up with one she hadn't heard she would talk to him.  He then said "if you buy me a drink, I will guarantee you an orgasm”. The woman smiled, turned to the bartender, and ordered my brother a double. He could not pick his jaw up off the ground for at least 5 minutes. We still say to this day that was the only time we saw him speechless.)

Now, I am getting away from the point here and that is giving you some background. #2 has been married twice. I know that this is hard to grasp, but the first marriage was to save his ass and the life of his unborn child. He messed with a mobster’s daughter and when she got pregnant, #2 became a husband. #1.5SIL(we’ll call her) had no intention of being married or even being a mother. #2 fought to keep the marriage and family together only as long as he could. When she got the okay from her dad that they were married a sufficient amount of time, she called the cops and said #2 beat her. The FIL paid off my brother, got him a nice little job somewhere else, and said I am sorry but this is life.

#2 was angry, can you blame him…probably not. He then had a 3 year old son that he had as often as he could and started looking for a better life. He has worked many jobs over the years and has had many a friends. He is an alcoholic though and that is very sad. He drinks all the time, he and his wife. I think personally he is depressed. He used to be the life of the party and now he is the party pooper. He never smiles, he never hugs and kisses anymore and he just is not himself. He is remarried now to #2SIL one of the most angry, bitter, depressed women I have met in a long time. She used to be so pleasant until she became a mother. She is one of those mothers who have the perfect children. They never do anything wrong. Boy, there are some stories for another time. For the six months right after my dad passed away, I didn’t talk to my family much. We saw each other at my mom’s birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas and times like that. On Easter Sunday, 2007 the group of kids (about 9 of them) were all playing in the back yard and her son (then 8) pushed and then kicked one of the little kids (then 3) and started a huge uproar. When all the parents came out to investigate what had happened #6’s little one announced “Auntie Bob saw the whole thing” (that’s me and another story). I was washing dishes at the kitchen sink and didn’t want to be involved, but when the stormed me like an angry mob, I told them what happened. #2SIL told me to “F off and take my perfect little children and go back into our little bubble”. So, we did.

#2 is the most handsome of all of my brothers, at the age of 46 he has 2 maybe three grey hairs and is a great looking guy. I love my brother and having been one of the most independent, strong willed, great guys that I know, it kills me that he has let everything get the better of him and put his life into a bottle.

BTW! As I just finished this post, I got the call.  Jelly is doing great, the bone is a straight as straight can be, there were no complications and he is on his way home.

YIPPEE!