Deep Thought Word Vomit

Most of the time I am full of inappropriate sayings, bad words, dirty jokes, and all those things most people try to hide. I take pride in my outspoken, hardcore, don't-fuck-with-me attitude. I love that shit. However, I have this problem that makes it really hard to be all I-Will-Cut-A-Bitch all day every day. The problem is, I hurt if someone else hurts. It hurts me when someone I love is hurting. I physically feel it. It sucks. BUT I do a good job at hiding it most of the time. Lucky for you all.

Anyways...I am in a serious mood..I have a lot of stuff weighing heavy on my heart and what better way to get it off my chest than to spew it to those surfing the world wide web? Here ya go...spewing is beginning...

I was on Pinterest just a few minutes ago and there was a picture of the cutest little boy on his first day of preschool rocking some pink and white zebra shoes. So of course, I clicked on the link and read the story to go with it. Long story short, this little boy loved these pink zebra striped shoes and his mom tried to tell him they were for girls and the kid said he didn't care. He went to his first day of preschool and got a ton of compliments and everyone his age loved the shoes. He did not get made fun of, which was his mom's fear. His mom posted the picture on her facebook and had numerous comments on how that was ridiculous, she was going to make her child gay, etc etc etc. The mom deleted the picture (and hopefully a bunch of her "Friends" who had such shitty opinions) and then told the little boy he would wear pink shoes if he wanted to, just do what makes him happy. He told his mom he didn't choose the shoes because they were pink, he chose them because they were zebra and zebra was his favorite animal. So I read this and it pisses me off and makes me sad. What the hell has happened to people? Grown adults berating a child and his parent over a pair of fucking shoes. THAT is pathetic. ABSOLUTELY disgusting. And it breaks my heart for that mother. But, mostly for that child and my child and all children, because that is how the world works today, and they are pure and innocent and deserve so much more than that in the future.

We are ALL guilty of judging someone. Fuck, I do it, and I HATE it. I sometimes catch myself and am super disappointed. However, I think I am pretty good at being open minded and accepting of all people. If we all made a little more effort to not judge people, how much better would the world be?

After the shooting in Newtown it seems like debate and hate have reached an all new high. It is so depressing that when a tragedy such as this occurs we don't come together as a nation or group, we fight with each other. I am the queen of debate. I fucking love a good debate. But I also go into one knowing that not everyone shares my opinion. And I certainly am not trying to change someone's opinion. I learned a long time ago that it is almost impossible, so why risk a friendship or something over that? What happened was awful. It made me cry. I have a kindergartner. What if that was his school? His class? It is terrifying. Does something need to be done so we can send our baby's to school and not worry? Of course...but attacking each other is not solving anything. Now is the time we need to hug our kids a little closer, be thankful that we still have the ability to hold our child, and come together to work on a solution. No parent should ever have to hear that their child was murdered. No child should ever have to witness such an atrocious crime. This is a tragedy. That is the only way to describe it. So in the wake of tragedy, let's come together and help each other get through it, not hurt each other more.

On a personal note, because let's face it, it IS all about me... I have had SO MUCH shit talked about me for taking self portraits. Caring what I think about my appearance. Wearing wigs. Touching up my make up after lunch. Wearing what I wear. Having tattoos. Cussing. I went through a SUPER ugly stage in junior high. I got made fun of ALOT. Then I got cute. Thank Jesus. Then I got married, had a kid, and ya know, was not so cute. In fact, I was told at one point that being seen naked was gross and basically there would be no dirty dirty with the lights on. So, my self esteem was a wreck. I got out of that relationship. Lost baby weight. Got my self confidence back. I have been through some shit in life. I have been in an abusive marriage. I have literally had to start life completely over while raising a baby and battling depression. I have watched my best friend die of cancer as a child and I am watching my Dad fight (DEFEAT) cancer again. I have listened to my kid cry and tell me he doesn't have a Dad and now ask me if I was going to leave like everyone else. I raise a five year old on my own, no family near me, I have managed to figure out how to make $20-30 bucks in groceries last a week, while packing a kid's lunch every day. I have had weeks of ramen noodles every night to make that work. (Thank God I like ramen lol) The point is, I do my make up and wear sexy/cute clothes and wear wigs because I like it. It makes me feel good and confident when I have my face on and my jeans and heels make my ass look nice. And right now I don't like my hair because it is in a weird growing out stage because I shaved my head completely fucking bald to raise money for childhood cancer. And I didn't think being bald would affect me, but it fucked my confidence level UP. And unless you've been there, you don't know how it will affect you. I take pics of myself because on that day I feel pretty. And I don't feel pretty and cute every day. So when I do, I take a pic and the next time I don't feel cute I can go look at that pic and remind myself that I am a really pretty person. I don't do it for compliments, though everyone likes a compliment, I do it for me. I wear make up for me. I wear wigs because I fucking love wigs and changing my look. And I love my high heels and will wear them until I can't anymore. I do that stuff for me...not for anyone else. So thankfully, after being called four eyes and nerd and ugly since the first grade, I can handle people talking shit. I guess the thing is..in the heat of the moment people just talk. They don't stop to think about the impact their words may have on someone. How one little thing can affect someone for so long...change their view on life..love..everything.

The fact of the matter is, we were all raised differently, taught different things, came from different walks of life. Even people raised by the same parents take different life lessons and memories from their childhood than their brother and sister. No two people are alike, the great thing is, we can learn something from each and every person. I have been so blessed to meet so many amazing people in my life and gain so many life lessons in doing so. I can name off something great about every single person in my office. And while I don't always agree with that person, they still have something good about them that I can take something away from and that is truly a blessing that we all have.

No worries everyone...tomorrow I will be working and not watching Grey's Anatomy and reading the news all day...so I will be back to my "I will stab you in the eye with a rusty spoon" self.

Not So June Cleaver

In a home not my own, at this very moment, a good mom is sitting at the table with her child patiently helping them complete homework assignments with a smile on her face. She would probably be wearing a pearl necklace (not the dirty kind) and an apron too. But in my home I am standing at the kitchen counter, in leggings and a t shirt and mismatched socks, yelling at my child and eating Twizzlers like they're going out of style because if I don't, I might go Mike Tyson and bite my kids ear off. (Not really...that'd be hard to explain at the ER)

Bowen is in kindergarten, yall. And that means homework has begun. Because kindergarten is serious. (And because I put him in a college prep based charter school...oops?) So every night we have homework. Monday's are the easy days (thank Jebus), but by Thursday, shit is sorta like an SAT practice test.

I was not blessed with patience. While some may say patience is a virtue, I say "Hurry the fuck up!" should be a virtue. Tomato, tuh-mato. Fact of the matter is, my lack of patience DOES NOT help with homework time so you and your virtues can suck my ass. All I know is, by the end of homework time I have to physically remove myself from the room and go bang my head against a wall so I don't bang my son's head against the table.

Bowen has such intense focus while playing a video game it is scary. I have literally thrown marshmallows at him while he is playing his video games to see how long it would take him to notice. I went through an entire bag of marshmallows. Needless to say, I KNOW the kid can focus when he wants to. Apparently, homework is something he never, ever, EVER has any desire to focus on. Lucky me. 

The worst homework days are Thursdays when we have "The sharing game". I am 100% the kids love it. I, on the other hand, fucking hate the sharing game. Every week we have to find something that will fit into a little brown lunch bag that starts with one of the two letters of the week. You would think this is easy, but really, after you've worked 8+ hours and cooked and cleaned and bathed a kid, it isn't. Once you finally find any fucking object that starts with one of the stupid letters of the week, the kid has to write three sentences that describe the object. The next day they read their sentences and the other students get to guess what is in the brown bag o' mystery. Did I mention this is kindergarten? I wanna say in kindergarten I was learning how to say the alphabet and the teacher spent most of the day making sure no kid ate glue. Times have changed, ya'll.

Not to brag or anything, but my kid has been writing his name and small words for a hot minute. (Must be that fancy Christian preschool I put him in) SO this sentence writing shit should be easy. Then again, so should finding some random piece of junk that starts with one of the letters of the week. Let me tell you...it is not. We never seem to have anything appropriate for any of the letters so we spend like 20 minutes just looking for something. ((Here is what I had: J - Jameson...duh, V - vibrator or vodka, W - whiskey, T - tylenol pm, P - pills, B - brandy...anyways fact is, none of that was good enough, so we had to look for a while)) Then when we do we have to come up with our three clues. This always leads to an argument. Bowen thinks stuff like, "It was in the movie Toy Story" counts. Obviously, that is not a detailed enough clue, hence the arguing. Anyways, when we decide on the three shitty sentences, I write them down on a piece of paper and he has to copy them onto his paper. This is where shit gets cray. 

Below is an example of how our/Bowen's sentence writing homework goes down:

B: MOM, you write your z's weird.

M: Just do it.

Bowen rolls around on the floor, pushes his paper on the floor, drops his pencil, stares at the tv.

M: Bowen, do your work.

He writes two letters. Puts his hands in his pants.

M: Bowen, get your hand off your penis.

He finishes the first word. Sits on the floor.

B: I am SO tired. My head hurts. I have the flu.

M: No you don't. Get your ass up and do your work.

B: You are DA WORST EVER.

M: Yea yea..ok...do your work.

He writes one more word. Sits on the floor, stands up, lays across the table.

M: Bowen Corry Holmes, I will take away your games tomorrow if you don't get up and finish your homework!!!!

He finishes the first sentence. Throws the pencil at the table.

B: I can't do dis.
M: Bowen...pick up the pencil...finish your shit!
B: I CAN'T!!!!
M: Fine...time out..now
B: FINE I'LL DO IT!!

Anyways, this routine goes on for at least 30 minutes. And by then I am annoyed and tired and probably sweaty because my blood pressure is suddenly through the roof. And I am also standing in the hallway banging my head against the linen closet door and trying to remember to count because apparently COUNTING MAKES YOU CALM!!! ((that is a crock of shit))

We have finally finished homework. His writing is pretty bad ass and he has a smile on his face. I need to puke from my sugar intake...or the concussion I just gave myself...but we have high fived and talked about how bad ass he is, so in the end, it was a success.

I love our teacher and school. But I do not love homework. I know he needs it and it helps him. I get it. Doesn't mean I have to like it. Or that it is easy. Or that I will stop banging my head against walls any time soon. But I heard a rumor that a lot of moms feel the same way about homework that I do. They just probably cuss a lot less. So here you go annoyed mommy's, just know, you are not alone. (literally...ever...because you have a child which means you probably haven't peed or showered uninterrupted in years.))

Please, STFU! KThx

Ya'll...I have to tell you, I thought I was Monica Lewinsky for a few minutes today. I had so much political D being shoved down my throat via Twitter and Facebook and Instagram and office talk and radio ((from the dems and repubs)) that I had to make sure I wasn't wearing a stained blue dress. I am SO thankful this election is over. Mostly because I was about to stab my ear holes with my scissors and gouge my eyes out with a spoon.

Don't get me wrong. I am glad you have an opinion and I am glad you voted!! YAY we are Americans and have that right!! Thank the fuck! However, I have realized just how backstabbing, rude, close minded and uneducated some people can be. Some people I consider friends.

My parents always taught me that everyone has the right to their own opinion and beliefs. You don't have to believe them. We aren't fucking sheep. You can have your own opinions and beliefs and thoughts and can actually still be civil. Hell, you can still be FRIENDS!! ((Shocking, I know)) And I am all up for a friendly debate. Friendly being the keyword. ((I love a good debate....I was on the debate team in high school!))

You have your opinion. I have mine. No need to spew your shit at me and try to change my mind. (The more you try to do that, the more I actually go the opposite way.) I didn't post anything or really talk to many people about my thoughts on this election, who I wanted to win, or why. It isn't your business for one, and for two, I don't want to fight with you. In fact, the one thing I love about the US of A is that I am allowed to think for myself!! GASP

It is funny how, not so long ago, who you were voting for was a private thing. You may have shared it with a few close friends and family members, but it wasn't something you discussed. (Much like when you have your period or if you had to get a colonoscopy. It was private.) Now everyone tells everyone who they are voting for and why anyone NOT voting for the same person is a fucking moron. I mean, someone I know actually said, "I may not be your friend if you voted for _____". Really?? THAT is what you base your friendships on?? It literally disgusts me to even think about that.

All this has made me realize what a HUGE task I have in raising Bowen and teaching him that being close minded gets you nowhere. And also makes you look like an idiot. It seems that so many people have forgot that the United States is a melting pot. Not everyone was raised the same way, not everyone believes the same thing. We are not a nation of robots programmed to think, speak, and act a certain way. And isn't that a great thing?!

I hope that I can teach Bowen as well as my parents taught me about acceptance, compassion, and what freedom really means. It seems to me that many parents failed at this or maybe their children, who are now adults, seemed to forget those life lessons. I don't expect every single person to agree with every single belief and thought that I have. And I don't agree with a lot of shit people think and believe, but I know that doesn't make the other person wrong necessarily or a bad person at all. All I am saying is, I hope to God my son never acts like some people have been acting lately. It is not only annoying as hell, but it really makes you look stupid.

So...if everyone could go about tweeting and facebooking and instragramming their lunch and what happened during their latest work out, I would really appreciate it. XoXo Yay America! Let's all take a shot!!!

Kindergarten Fight Club

I am 100% sure the principal's at my high school had my Dad's number on speed dial by my senior year. Fuck, it was probably by my sophomore year, but who is counting. I have a temper and a very low tolerance for bullshit. Well...I have passed that along to my son. And today, I got my first call from the principal.

This is how our call went..

Receptionist: Is this Sarah Holmes?

Me: Uhh yes.

R: This is Whateverthefuckhernamewas at Pinecrest Academy.

M: Ohhh...

R: I have Bowen here in the office...there was a little umm..incident..and he punched another kid today.

M: Oh shit. I mean sorry..but shit.

R: Yeaaaa...so we need you to come speak to the principal.

M: Ok I will be there as soon as I can.

Don't judge me for saying shit. Wtf else was I supposed to say? At first I immediately got pissed. But luckily my coworkers reminded me that he could have been defending himself and who knows what happened. Not gonna lie...the closer I got to the school, the more nervous I got. Bowen can throw some fists and he has been known to use an elbow on occasion. So I am picturing this little kindergartner with a busted lip or black eye. (And depending on the situation I would have been proud.) Then I started thinking about meeting the parents in the office and me having to throw some 'bows. ((What? I have a great imagination!!))

So I got the school and as soon as I walked in I saw my innocent looking, TINY baby boy ((he looked so small and fragile and scared)) sitting in the front office by the receptionist. I got led to the back to talk to the vice principal and not gonna lie, was a little scared.

She was very nice, has two little boys of her own, so she knows how boys can be. We talked about Bowen's past behavior and how he has been adjusting to school. After this talk she was a little confused as to why he would have punched this kid. From what she knew...because Bowen wouldn't tell her anything, just sit there with his head down...the kids were standing in line and a little boy turned around and told Bowen "Shhh" and he punched him in the face. 

Obviously that is not ok. 

She brought Bowen in and then he started talking to me. ((After he ran and jumped in my lap and hugged me. Which broke/melted my heart)) Apparently at lunch this little boy was yelling and screaming in Bowen's face. And then a few hours later when he told Bowen to "shh" Bowen punched him. Ok..so at least it makes more sense why he hit him. He didn't just pop this kid in the mouth for no reason. 

Anyways, the principal and I talked to him. At one point Bowen did his best Kevin Hart impression and said, "Alright, alright, alrrrrrrriiiiiight." Which made me laugh. Which made the principal look at me and Bowen with the most confused look on her face. (Guess she hasn't seen Kevin Hart before...she gon' learn today!!) He even told the the VP that his favorite movie was The Nightmare Before Christmas (bonus cool mom points for me) and sang part of a song in it. Anyways, in the end, I told Bowen that he had to write an apology to the little kid and to his teacher. I also told him no games and movies tonight. THAT made him cry. 

Hopefully he learned his lesson. No hitting kids unless they hit you first. Or unless you're being threatened. I didn't really bring up the threatened thing...I mean...he probably won't understand. But maybe next year I can throw that knowledge on him.

So after we get home and settled I call my Dad, since he has dealt with my anger issues I figure he'd have some great advice. He laughed when I told him the story. Which, let's be honest, it is KIND of funny. I give the kid props for not immediately reacting, that is a big deal, but sometimes enough is enough, ya know? Dad reminded me that my little brother, Declan, got sent home from school in kindergarten because he threw a fork at a kid who was cheating at some game and then thumped Declan when he walked by him. The kid touched him..so he OBVIOUSLY deserved it. And then he brought up some of my principal phone calls. Including the time where I smacked the fuck out of a dude with my back pack for grabbing my ass...in front of the principal. And then the principal had the balls to tell my Dad I had a bad temper. THANKFULLY my Dad doesn't take any shit either and told the principal if I got in trouble for that he would go to the school board and end up owning the high school. (Fuck yes, Dad, fuck yes.) Anyways....he just said I did good. Let's face it, all parents need a little reassurance sometimes and since I have no significant other, I have to call my parents for it. 

So it has begun...first call from the principal's office. I can't say that I think it will be the last one. I know better. I just have to teach the kid when it is ok to fight and when it isn't. I have to say...this probably did not help me make any new friends at the school. Or Bowen for that matter. At least we know kids probably won't fuck with him. Silver lining, people, silver lining.

Gangsters, Pirates, and MILF's

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And So It Begins...School That Is

((This pic was on meet the teacher night, a few days before school started. I should have known then that kindergarten was not going to be a cake walk with him.))


I officially have a kindergartner. We are starting our third week of school and so far it is much better than the last two weeks. Most of you follow me on facebook and twitter and have listened to me cry and bitch because my kid cried for the first two weeks of school every time I dropped him off. It is not a fun way for me to start the day. It makes me sweaty, sad, and have anxiety and then I seriously contemplate chugging my bottle of Jameson at 8:30am in the school parking lot. Anyways...rather than bore you with the first day of school stories I am just going to explain things I witness and notice at school.

1. I love that our school is next to a Lee's Discount Liquor. And just a block away from that is Taco Bell. Seriously..prime fucking location for this school. I really am going to go into the liquor store one Friday night to see how many Pinecrest Academy staff members are pushing around carts full of booze. Fuck it...I'll buy a bottle for them. They deserve that shit.

2. I've known this for awhile, but fuck me, mom clique's are the worst. I would rather deal the bitches back in high school than the mom groups. I literally hang out with the dad group because they are mellow. Most don't talk at all. And there is no cattiness. Yea ho...I can see you giving me the stink eye from across the playground...don't hate because you're wearing a velour sweat suit and crocs and I'm rocking platform heels and skinny jeans..I will cut you.

3. Speaking of moms...some of them suck dick for skittles. There is one mom who is a stay at home mom ((listen not hating on staying at home, that is something I could not handle, but hear me out))...she has one kid, who is now in full day kindergarten and then goes to the after school program. And she is bitching because she just can't find the time in the day to get everything done. Yo, bitch...get off your ass, stop watching The View, and fold some fucking laundry. And DO NOT come to me with that shit...I work full time and raise a kid on my own with zero fucking help. Suck it up ho. ((Umm..sorry for the rant..kinda..not really..)) Because of this lady, I switched over to the dad's group. Thankfully, I have been accepted with open arms..and wide eyes. haha

4. I really do not like MOST other children. There are a few that are SO sweet ((one little girl told a new girl that she was beautiful this morning. I wanted to hug her)) However, most other kids are annoying and obnoxious.  Swear to Jesus if my kid acted like some of those kids I'd put him in military school starting now. Kids just running around and pushing other kids for no reason, screaming for no reason, talking back...hell no..I would put that shit to an end real fast. And of course, most of these kids have mom's in the mom group not watching them. Go figure.

5.  They should have a Starbucks (for all your coffee drinkers) and an energy drink stand at every school for us parents who stand with our kids and wait for the bell to ring. ((Bowen has a little separation anxiety so I stay like the good mommy I am)) I drink my energy drink..and by drink I mean guzzle...while listening to whiney, bratty kindergartners and their whiney, shitty mothers every morning. I mean, where is my incentive for doing the right thing and staying with my sweet, loving baby and not just handing him over to some random teacher while he has snot running down his face from crying and is bawling like I just pinched the shit out of him? WHERE IS MY INCENTIVE?! ((i know...peace of mind and good feelings and yadda yadda...but I still want an energy drink stand or something))

6. Random thought...how much trouble do you think I'd get in if I accidentally tripped the little boy who keeps telling my kid he is small? ((Seriously the kid looks like he belongs in 3rd grade and reminds me of the ass clowns in Billy Madison...you know "O'Doyle RULES"))

7. I honestly have no fucking clue what my kid does all day. He tells me absolutely nothing. Today he did tell me that he went to lunch and recess. Sweet. Glad I am spending so much money on lunch and recess. For all I know they are brainwashing him and he is joining the occult. ((Joking people, joking. It IS a charter school..but they aren't that cray))

8. Finally...I realize I have just begun. I mean...it is kindergarten. I have 12 more years of schools and moms and bratty kids. Therefore, if you would like to help me keep my sanity, please mail me bottles of Jameson and Crown. I also accept cash and gift cards where these items can be bought. K, thanks.

Skinny Jeans and Sweaty Balls

I hit 400 followers on Twitter yesterday ((Check me out.... @MsSarahHolmes)) so I asked my followers what I should do in celebration. One guy told me to write another blog. Which made me realize I have been slacking on my writing. So here we go....a little recap of the last few weeks...err months?

It is summer in Vegas so it is hot as fuck. I have no filter (haven't you noticed?) and I say, "It is hot as balls" all the time. I don't know how hot balls get, but from the way some of them smell, I am betting they get fucking hot and sweaty. Anyways, back on track, we walk out the front door one Saturday and Bowen says, "Man!! It is hot as balls out here!!!". It was fucking hilarious. Then I told him he can only say that around mommy...anywhere else he will get in trouble. He said deal..so far...no complaints about ball talk.

Bowen and I went to Target a few weeks ago to buy some school uniforms since kindergarten starts soon. While shopping for our khaki and navy bottoms the kid spots some royal blue skinny jeans. Now I used to say I'd never let my kid rock skinny jeans...but I have seen some guys in rock bands that make their skinny jeans look great (and their package too) so I said what the hell. We went to the dressing room to try all his clothes on. (A first for the kid) So he gets his skinny jeans on and looks at his ass in the mirror for five minutes. Seriously..he turned to the right and looked...turned to the left and looked...and then said he liked them. In fact, not only did he like them, he told me it made his junk look big. Trust me...it did not...but who am I to crush a young man's dreams?

The next day he decided he wanted to wear them to preschool. Of course I let him. Let's face it, I would let the kid walk out in mismatched clothes and a cape if he wanted to. So he gets his jeans on and sits down to put his shoes on and says, "Ohhh...there is NO way I can do circle time in these." Obviously they are tighter than he is used to. So I do what any good mom would do in this situation and suggest him not wearing underwear because they are tight up there. He looks at me like I am a fucking alien and says, "Mom...my butt crack would hang out. And my balls would get sweaty. That is not going to work." Needless to say, he wore shorts to preschool that day.

I know it is a boy thing to talk shit during video games. I get it, I respect it, and if I play, I'll talk shit too. I just didn't realize that it started at such a young age. One of my babysitters got Bowen hooked on playing Super Mario on the Wii. The other day he was playing the game and it was a constant stream of shit talking...except in 5 year old words. For example, "Oh yea Mario we are going to crush them...ooooohhhh I killed you, I killed you...that's right, move out of my way...oh yea, oh yea...I'm gonna beat you..." so you get the idea. He finally beat this level and then stood up, threw the controller on the couch, and did some pelvic thrusts while yelling, "Oh yea, I won!" After like five minutes of celebrating I told him to shut up. I got the reply, "Mom..I won..I am almost to Bowser's castle..chill." I can't wait to walk in on some COD shit talking...

Last night we went to meet his kindergarten teacher. He was not excited about this. BUT I bribed him with a happy meal. So we met the teacher and did all the hand shaking and checking out the classroom and bullshit. The school is literally 30+ minutes from my house and in an area I know nothing about.  So on the way home I go a different way back and after driving for ten minutes realize I am fucking lost. I just blurted out, "Where the fuck are we?" And Bowen, my lovely little child, rolls his eyes, sighs and says, "Well...this can't be good..."

And we will just wrap it up with some highlights of tonight's drive home from his last day of preschool. (Sniffle...last day of preschool) We always jam any time we are in the car. And he usually requests some pretty good tunes. Today I was skipping past songs and I listened to like .5 seconds of Make It Rain by Travis Porter. I normally don't let him listen to this song ((we originally heard it in H&M)) because it is pretty raunchy. I mean cuss words, fine whatever, but this is talking about dirty shit. So he says, "MOM...play that song..I SWEAR I won't say any bad words." So I warned him that if he did, he would get popped in the mouth and no games. We listen and towards the end of the song I hear, "Ima make it rain trick, Ima make it rain." THANKFULLY he asked for Slipknot next and I got to hear that angel baby voice sing Duality. Corey Taylor would be proud. (So if you see him, tell him I want to have babies with him)

So as you can see...not a lot has changed in the Holmes household. We are still crazy and I still cuss and for us, this is normal. Kindergarten starts Monday. I can't decide whether I get to cry because I'm a mom or whether I need to keep my shit together and be tough because I'm a dad too. I'll let you know how it goes.

Parenting Prep From A Pro

There is no way to really prepare for parenthood. I mean you can read all the "What To Expect", "No Cry Sleep Solution", "Dr. Spock" bullshit that you want to and you still won't be prepared. It is because those little energy syphoning midgets we call our children do not come with a manual. They don't have batteries we can remove or an off switch. And they certainly don't understand the don't-mess-with-mommy-she-is-exhausted/angry/sad/hungry/overworked-and-needs-a-moment moments. Oh no, those are the times they will choose to push every little button you have. Because they are kids. And that is what they do.

Bowen and I are ridiculously close. He knows when I'm in a funk and I can tell when he is in a funk and we kind of feed off each other. Really this sucks WAY more for him than me, because, well he has life EASY at the moment. Needless to say, when I am upset or depressed or pissed off or going through the break up of the century, he can tell and becomes this loving, but leech-like, baby of mine. So no, those are not hickeys you see on my body, that is where I had to literally unstick the child that has latched onto my side. (joking..there are no marks and def no hickeys) 

I am (finally) getting sort of out of the break up funk (we are not out of the woods yet, so brace yourself for another breakdown in the near future) and last weekend Bowen and I had a pretty good weekend for a change. Saturday we hung out at the pool for an hour or so, then decided it was too hot and we needed a movie afternoon. So we laid on the couch/bed and watched movies and ate shitty food. Well he ate shitty food. Then Sunday all the neighbors were out and we went to the pool for a more exciting pool day.

Then disaster struck.

I am laying out, chatting with everyone and Bowen was playing squirt guns and doing cannonballs in the pool with the other kids. PERFECT. So now you know some shit had to happen. I just didn't know it would be literal shit. All of a sudden I hear my son scream, "I'm gonna poop! I'm gonna poop!" I yell back, "DON'T DO THAT!!" and gracefully (ok not gracefully or sexily at all) ran to the side of the pool he was on and hoisted his 40-something pound body out. I tell him to start walking to the bathroom ((While he is holding his butt bc he is LITERALLY shitting himself)) while I run to get the bathroom key. 

It only got worse.

We get into the bathroom and I have to help him peel those wet swim trunks off. As I do, I literally catch his poop in my hand. For all the non-parents out their gagging, just you wait. You think it is awful, and really it is, but when it is your kid you just do it. You just go into beast/survival mode and do what needs to be done. And at that moment what needed to be done was me catching his poop in my hand so it wasn't all over the public restroom and get the kid on the toilet so he could finish. Did I gag? Hell yes. Was it something I never hope to do again? Obviously. But it is what it is. It happened...we were in the situation and the only thing to do was cope.

So after I scrubbed my hands for like 5 minutes we emerges from the bathroom and obviously I needed to take the kid home. He smelled like poo. And was a little embarrassed. So...as sad as I was to leave the pool party...we did.

Ok so we go home, he showers, I do poopy laundry and we are chilling. I decide to cook and he is playing games. Nice little Sunday evening at home. All of a sudden I see him RUN to the bathroom while yelling, "I HAVE TO PEEEEEE!!" Wtf. So he comes out and says he didn't make it in time and peed on the floor. SO again, I do what I have to do, and go clean up pee.

Normally this shit (literally) does not happen. He can wipe his own ass!!! It was just one of those weekends. Once all the potty issues were resolved we played like 29 games of Pop The Pig and watched movies and ate popsicles on the patio like we hadn't been in crisis mode only hours before. Ahh the joys of parenting. Bet ya didn't read these type of situations in your parenting books, did ya? Well I'm a straight shooter and I will tell you what parenting is really like. PLUS I find it HILARIOUS to see people's reactions to this and bring them back to reality when they discuss sweet bundles of shitting joy they plan on having. Insert evil laugh here.

The Blog About Not Blogging

When I was growing up I had this image in my head of what my life as an adult would be like. Of course I was going to college and then marrying some dude I met while in college or right after landing this dream job that I scored because of my amazing degree and having kids and being a kick ass mommy/wife/lawyer-teacher-writer-thing. ((I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up, so I had to leave that open ended...also, yes, that was poorly abbreviated. Suck it.)) Obviously...none of this shit happened. Well I was a wife for a minute and I am a mommy, so that part happened, but really, my life is NOTHING like I thought it would be. So here is my blog explaining why I haven't been blogging so people can quit asking me why I'm not blogging. ;-)

In the last month Bowen and I have moved. At first I loved this place, now, not so much. There is something weird about it. It is negative. I need to smudge or cleanse this apartment ASAP because ever since we moved in I have been in a HORRIBLE funk. And by horrible funk, I mean really dark place. I know I am not really rainbows and butterflies, more like cusswords and sarcasm, but I have been not ok. I cry all the time now. And I am not a crier!! And this, my friends, is why I have not been blogging. No one wants to read some depressed shit about how I feel like my life is a train wreck and I don't know what I am doing. I just read that sentence and want to un-read, so yea.

Anyways, Bowen does not handle change well and I don't handle change well (according to my therapist at least) so we are both a fucking mess. And really any time I am sad or whatever, the kid picks up on it (bless his heart) and that doesn't make things any better. So I really need to get my shit under control because my baby is about to turn five and start kindergarten and I want him to look back on his childhood and not remember his mom being a depressed lunatic. I just want him to remember her being a lunatic. 

So aside from my house being some negative energy pit, I have also been trying to figure out wtf I am doing. I seriously thought that by now I would have more shit figured out. Instead, I am trying to decide how to pay for Bowen's school for the next year and what to do about daycare during school holidays and if I will ever get cable again and how to do a better job at work and if I eat a poptart at 10:30pm does it immediately go to my ass and make me gain a pound? Plus, I am on my own 100% out here suddenly and it is kicking my ass. Some days you need help...and on those days...I gotta be my own help. In fact, the therapist pointed out last week that I really am out here 100% by myself and without anyone to talk to because no one relates. And I LOVE my friends, they are truly amazing, but we aren't in the same boat, so they don't get it. I don't understand their situations either, so I ain't mad at 'em. And honestly, I wouldn't wish my situation on people, so yea. I am ronery...oh so ronery. ((TEAM AMERICA))

Please, for the love of God, tell me that at least one other parent (single parent preferably) that this is normal and I am not a complete moron/shitty parent. I am just a little overwhelmed and I know any day now my big girl panties will magically come on and I will power through everything. I usually work better under pressure. So I'm not really sure wtf the problem is as of late. I know it'll get better and I will be on my ass-kicking track again. I think it starts with the cleansing of the negative energy in here. Who is coming over to smudge? Tomorrow. We need to do it tomorrow. Any takers?! 

Anyways, I will get back on the blogging about the fact that my son asked me if douche was a bad word, then telling me one day that being a girl and having a vagina seemed cool, and that being the worst mommy ever then the best mommy ever in one day is seriously emotionally confusing. I'll be back to that folks. Just trying to get my shit under control. 

I'm So Vain, The Song Is About Me

I am one of those people who thinks they are prepared for everything. For example, the SAT's in high school...I thought I had that shit down and didn't need to study. I was wrong. And I have completely erased my terrible score from my memory. Or another example, taking care of babies. I thought I knew all about them since I was the oldest sister of four. My kid was over eating and puking for like two weeks when he was a newborn. I couldn't figure out what the hell was wrong with him, then I finally realized he just needed a binky (after my mom told me). Anyways, before we delve too deep into the plethora of shit I have thought I was prepared for, but really wasn't, let's just get to the point. I thought I was prepared to have no hair. I was wrong.

I have had a huge wake up call on this whole lack of hair thing. For two months I told people, "Oh it is just hair...it'll grow back." I even said, "It is a small price to pay compared to what these kids go through." And while I still honestly believe both of these things, I also truly believe I look heinous.

I am not a cute bald chick. I definitely look like a boy. Thank God I am seeing someone or my chances of getting laid would go from the previous (being the pre-Jeremy) 12% to, at the very least, -12%. But that is neither here nor there.

So funny thing happened....as I mentioned before in my last blog, the big man at the office, Dana White, made a huge donation of $5000.00. I finally ran into him and was wearing a wig and he was like..what the hell? So it took it off and showed him my bald head. He loved it. He hated the wig. He was super cool and told me that I had a great head. (I've heard this a few times. Wtf did ya'll think my head was going to look like? Caved in on one side? lol) Anyways, I told him that I felt like a boy...he told me I did not look like a boy and rocked the look (pretty sure he was playing with my emotions! lol) and if he didn't think so he wouldn't say that. Then told me how cray it was for him to shave his head for the first time. Anyways..he told me no more wigs. So..I walked outside and put my wig back on. I was embarrassed!! lol Then he came outside and told me to take it off. So I did! (You don't want Dana pissed at you.) More conversation came about and basically he told me he made a huge donation so he says he better not see me in a wig at work. And I couldn't argue at all. SO since then...no wigs at work. And it is SO hard!! lol (But then I was upstairs outside his office today and he told me that he liked to see the no wig look, then rubbed my head, so it is obviously worth it!)

This very same day that Dana got on me about wearing wigs, the movie My Sister's Keeper (the book was even more amazing btw) came on and as sad as it makes me, I have to watch it every time it is on. When it came to the part where the main character didn't feel pretty (as she was trying to pick out a dress for a dance) it kind of hit me that I was being a little bitch. I mean this is probably how thousands of girls feel!! So I felt super guilty and it kind of put things back into perspective.

NOW...I still really dislike my lack of hair and feel really self conscious. BUT I know it is going to grow back, so I am feeling better about it. I really didn't think it would bother me that much, but it really has. So I am definitely not as great of a person as everyone thought I was. When I start to feel like shit about my head, I remember all the little boys and girls who don't have a choice and are sick on top of everything else and think they look ugly....when really..they are the true heroes and most beautiful people ever.

On the positive side...on days like today when I wake up 15 minutes before I need to leave the house, the lack of hair really helps!! Also...I am saving a TON of money on hair products, cuts, and colors. Money that can go towards high heels. Which we all know I need more of.

Bald, But Not So Brave

I have started and stopped, typed and deleted, and opened and closed this blog about 16 times. I have been trying to do this for over a week now and it isn't coming together like I wanted it to. Writers block already and I'm not even a real writer. It is pathetic.

As you can see from the picture above, I am bald. In January I joined the St Baldrick's fundraiser in an effort to raise money to find a cure for childhood cancer. The incentive to donating money is that I will shave my head. People donated (Thank you all SO much) and I shaved my head. I raised $6,040.00 (HUGE shout out to Dana White for donating 5g's!! How awesome is my boss??) and the St Baldrick's fundraiser that I participated in raised $233,733.00. And that was just ONE venue in this HUGE fundraiser. So we did good.

I would like to say that I did something amazing. That it was inspiring and did some good. But I don't exactly feel that way.

This is how I feel....

I met my best friend in third grade. She came into my class wearing a hat over her bald head. I heard she had cancer, but at 9 years old I didn't understand it. I had no clue what white blood counts were or the immensity of chemotherapy. I just knew she was a cool girl who got to wear hats, had the best clothes, and was nice. This little girl changed my life forever.

Kayleigh was diagnosed with neuroblastoma at 16 months old. Most of your reading this are parents, so I want you to stop and think about this for a second. Imagine your baby at 16 months. Hell, imagine your baby now, whether they are 6 months old or 26 years old. What if that was YOUR baby getting diagnosed with cancer? I can't imagine. It pains me to even think about my kid having the flu, let alone cancer.

Anyways...the fact of the matter is...I spent summers jumping on a trampoline with her, played Barbies with her, and had so many sleepovers with her that I was probably at her house more than I was at my own. (Sorry Dori and Dan!! lol) She never once complained about being sick or tired. I never saw her cry or get mad about the disease she had. I never heard her say she was scared to die, or that she even might die. I never heard her talk about the fact that when she got older the chemo may have ruined her chances to have babies. Or even the fact that she might not live to see that day. I mean really? I know I complain any time I have a freakin' runny nose, this chick was taking medicine that is poison to your system, she didn't say a thing. She was brave. And amazing.

The St Baldrick's website always told us shavees that we were heroes...but in all honesty, we aren't. We are not heroes. We are raising money for a cause that needs it. We shaved our heads when thousands of little kids don't have a choice. These kids not only lose the hair on their heads, but their eyebrows and eyelashes. We had a choice. They did not. It doesn't make us brave or heroes to shave our heads...it makes us lucky. Lucky that we can do this. Lucky that we have choices like this.

Cancer is an awful disease. It is heart breaking to hear of anyone getting diagnosed with it no matter what the age. What is really awful are these innocent children who are diagnosed and have not even had the chance to experience life. I think about Kayleigh and how she missed out on junior high and high school, prom, finding love, having her dream wedding, and experiencing the amazing rush of holding your baby for the first time. Things that girls dream about from the age of three. She is my reason for shaving my head. She is the reason for raising money to find a cure for a disease that is stealing the lives of little kids who deserve a chance. Who deserve to see all of the things we take for granted.

Once again...thank you to everyone who donated. And thank you all for your support. I might sound like being bald is no big deal, but it has definitely been a big change. (I'll blog more about that eventually) And if anything, I hope this at least makes you stop and think for a few minutes about how lucky and blessed you really are. And if you have babies...send them a text, give them a call, hug them extra tight...because they deserve it and because no one is promised tomorrow.

Glitter, Hearts, & A Lonely Bed

For about a month now I have been happier than ever. Scary happy. Like even my threats to punch people in the throat have significantly decreased. (I did, however, threaten to stab someone in the eye with my high heel last week. But that was an extreme case. Obvi) I have been feeling like there are constant hearts and glitter and sunshine floating above my head. It is a little surreal. But I am soaking it all up like a sponge in my sink full of dishes. Needless to say, life has been changing at the Holmes household. And in a good way for once!!

One of the changes has been trying to get Bowen to sleep in his own bed through the whole night. I take the blame for him sleeping with me. I did start this habit. And I don't actually regret it. Either way, the change has begun. The first night I put Bowen in his own bed he cried. And told me I was the worst mom in the world. (I get that quite often) So it was a rough night and he ended up in my bed around midnight. Second night was not that bad, no tears, but he still ended up in my bed. Then he slept until 5am on his own! With the hall light on...and my bedroom door shut. Either way, it was a pretty big success in my eyes. So we have been doing this for about a week now and last night he slept ALL night in his own bed. Again with the hall light on and my bedroom door shut. BUT great success!!! We'll see how he does the rest of this week, but I have to say, we are off to a pretty decent start.

Other changes include...me shaving my legs on a regular basis, I have started painting (I suck, but it is kind of fun), and a generally less cynical and hateful outlook on life. Like I said, folks, big changes around the Holmes household!!

Anyways, since my bff has told me she misses Bitter Sarah and I make her puke in her mouth a little bit from all the sweet happiness radiating from my once lost soul, I will spare you all more details. But let's cheers our chocolate milk...or whatever you are sipping on...to getting Bowen to sleep in his big boy bed and maybe, just maybe, the hope that his mom can have a big boy in her bed soon! ;-)

Don't Buy Lotion If You're Single!!!

Today has been a pretty bad ass day. (Aside from some work issues) I am starting to finally feel better, Bowen and I went to breakfast in our pajamas, watched movies, played trains, baked cookies, had a dance off in the kitchen....

We also had to go to walmart for some groceries. We had a really intriguing conversation in that store.

Bo: Why are you buying lotion?

Me: Because I want soft skin.

Bo: You only need soft skin if you have a boyfriend. ((I stopped in my tracks and had to ponder this))

Me: Well...I don't have a boyfriend.

Bo: You should get one. And another kid.

Me: A boyfriend and another kid?! Well I have you...I don't need another kid.

Bo: Oh and a girlfriend. You need a girlfriend too. SO....you need a boyfriend, a girlfriend, and another kid.

Me: Wow. I am going to be busy.

Bo: Figure it out Mom.

We came home and watched a movie. I did some work. When it came time to cook I told him no more tv so we put some jams on. After we baked cookies and stuff he decided we needed to dance.

Bowen has some awesome moves. Pretty sure he thinks he is a breakdancer. No shit, the kid twirled on his head. It might have only been 3 seconds, but it was pretty bad ass. So anyways, we are dancing and Bowen decides he needs to run the show. A song comes on and he yells, "DANCE" so we both start dancing. Then he yells, "DRINK" and we have to take a drink. Then he yells, "Booty dance" and we both shake our booties. "DRINK"...."DANCE"...."DRINK"..."BOOTY DANCE"....."DRINK"...."DRINK"...."DRINK".....

Kind of worried. There was a lot of drinking going on. And then he'd come over to me, put his hand on my arm, look at me with those gorgeous blue eyes, and sweetly say, "You want me to get you a drink?" I feel like that won't be the last time he uses that line. Or those eyes.

Anyways, I better get off here. I have to find a boyfriend with a kid and a girlfriend. Plus I have been peeing every five minutes after all of our drinking.

The Joy of Raising My Boy

Raising a boy is a strange experience. Raising a boy alone is even weirder. Things go on in my house that baffle me. I literally have stood in my living room, jaw dropped to the floor, and been speechless. (Which is a very rare thing for me) Let me get into some details...

The other day I was wearing a dress and I needed Bowen to zip it up the rest of the way. It was an easy zip, not like I was squishing myself into it. So I tell Bowen to come zip up my dress and he says, "Seriously mom?? Shouldn't you have a husband to do this??" Umm...maybe I should. But I don't...so shut up.

For Christmas Bowen got a bike. He is a little pro with his training wheels on and rides like the wind. Bowen is also slightly obsessed with the show Ridiculousness on MTV. So we are enjoying some bike riding last Saturday and he goes as fast as he can, starts riding all crazy, and crashes. When he crashes he makes sure his fall contains a few rolls and a very dramatic final fall. When he gets up he said, "Did you video that?!?" I tell him, "No...why?" He gets kind of pissed and throws his arms up and says, "How am I supposed to get on Ridiculousness if you don't video anyfing?!?" (yes..with the f)

I was buying some sunglasses a couple of weekends ago and Bowen saw some Thomas sunglasses so, of course, we had to get them. Now he wears them all the time. He wears them to school and on the way home from school. Even when it is dark. We went to Chili's the other day for dinner and he wore them through the whole dinner. I said, "Hey dude, want to take your sunglasses off?" He says, "Umm no. I am pickin' up chicks like this."

Bowen and I were sitting on the couch watching a re-run of Ridiculousness and Bowen let one rip. It literally vibrated my leg. I said, "Bowen!!!" He giggled and said, "THAT was a grown man fart."

I have been sick for three weeks now. I am pretty sure it is the plague. So I was laying on the couch trying not to die and Bowen was laying on the other side watching a show. All of a sudden he says, "I am SO sick". I am thinking greeeaaaattt...he is going to blow chunks and probably has a fever and awesome..this is awesome. So I asked, "What do you mean you're sick?" He lets out a really big burp and says, "I burp a lot..it is pretty sick!!!" Ughh...really?? Should a 4 year old be saying stuff is sick? What's next, gnarly?

Bowen ran off to the bathroom to go pee and came out with no bottoms on. He has an evil little grin on his fat face so I KNEW something bad was about to happen. He says..laughing the whole time..."Watch me wiggle it!" And starts shaking his butt so his package would shake. Wtf? WTF? lol I yelled at him to go put his underwear back on right then and he giggled and shook his butt on his very slow walk to the bathroom.

Bowen is a big fan of popcorn...or copcorn (that is what we call it). So when he saw the commercial for copcorn chicken at KFC he had to have some. It just so happened that I felt like a big piece of shit, so I thought it was a great idea so I didn't have to cook. I got him his copcorn chicken and we came home. I asked if I could have a piece and he grabbed up the whole little box and said, "If you wanted some copcorn chicken you should have ordered some!!" It was like Gollum and his precious. So not ok.

Bowen usually takes a shower in my shower. It is easier, quicker..makes bed time get there sooner. And I am all about an early bed time. Bowen showered last night and I guess took a transformer in there. After I got him out of the tub and lotioned up and in jammies he said, "Hey mom...I left a transformer in the shower." I said, "Ok" He says, "Yea..he wants to shower with you. I told him it was allowed." So this morning when I got in the shower there was a Transformer sitting on the ledge staring at me. The sad part is..that is the most action I've got in a long time.

I can officially never have a little girl because I would have no idea what to do. I would have no idea what to do with a little girl. If it doesn't have to do with cars, trains, people getting kicked in the nuts, or gross bodily functions, then I am at a loss.

I Am The Worst..Officially

I remember when I was a kid and I thought my parents were the meanest people ever. For example...they would never let me get my own phone line. I thought they were SO mean for that. All my friends had their own phone lines. But me...nope. If I got a phone call after 10pm I got in trouble. ((I mean...it wasn't like I dialed my own number)) Or how they wouldn't let me walk from the movie theatre to Rosa's on the weekends. ((I did a few times anyways...oops..lol)) I could go on and on about all of the MEAN, horrible things my parents did to me when I was growing up, but I am sure that would cause some psychological stress or something. (haha) Anyways, the tables have turned and I am now the mean parent.

It seems like every time I turn around I am listening to a whiney/pissed voice say, "THIS IS THE WOOOOOORST!!!"

Here are some of our recent conversations:

Me: Bowen, you need to get up.

Bo: Do we have school today?

Me: Yes.

Bo: ::whimpering::: This is the WORST!!

Me: Bowen, time to get in the tub.

Bo: Ughhh!!!! This is the worst!!!

Me: Hey dude, you need to put your shoes on.

Bo: THIS. IS. THE. WORST.

Bo: Can I have a happy meal?

Me: No. You got in trouble at school today, so no.

Bo: MOOOOMMY! ((CRYING)) DIS is the worst!!!

So..as you can see...I am the worst. Everything is the worst. Life is the worst.

I really just want to say to him, "Cheer up, buttercup. Things really will get much worse. You'll have health problems and bills and ex's to look forward to." I don't though. Only because the "Why's" will begin.

Now I know how it feels to be the bad parent. The mean one. Granted, I have always been the mean parent because I'm the only parent. It actually just gets easier, I think. I am not even being a really mean mom yet, so the best (worst?) is yet to come. He better just wait until the grounding for weeks comes! Or the yelling at him in front of his friends! ((What? No..my eye is not twinkling!!))