Octopussy

I took my kids to the bookstore and told them that they could buy anything they wanted, for Valentine's Day. Well, of course this was a huge mistake because in "kid world" semantics are very important. I said "anything", didn't I? So my boys picked out $40.oo Thomas the Train accessories, of course. But my daughter picked out the cutest little octopus. (Of course no one picked out a book...the whole reason I took them there in the first place) Anyway, the octopus was pink and fluffy. It really needed a cute and fluffy name to go along with it's asthetics. I asked her what she was going to name it and she said, "Octopussy"....."Pussy, for short". I bit the insides of my cheeks, to keep from laughing and said, "Well, that's a wonderful name, but I have some other suggestions." This was never going to work because when I challenge her, she fights back even more. She's very hard-headed. We paid for our merchandise and went out to the car. There, I proceeded to offer up alternative names. "How about sassypus or octofluffy?" And she replied, "Those are great Mom, but this is Pussy!" I was going to HAVE to come up with something fantastic or she'd never change her mind. And I was going to have to come up with it fast...before she offended everyone we knew (and a few strangers, to boot). Meanwhile, she's purposely trying to annoy me by repeating the name as much as possible. (bear in mind that she has no idea why I'm opposed to it...she is only five!) "Ian, see my Pussy?" "Woo, this is Pussy" (and a few other comments that I'm not even comfortble putting on this blog!!) I start to panic because every time she gets a new stuffed animal, she takes it to school to show everyone. What would I do when the teacher called me and fussed at me for letting my daughter bring "Pussy" to school?!! My wheels were turning and I finally came up with an idea that she simply couldn't refuse. I strategically turned on the song "Fabulous" from High School Musical. I grabbed "pussy" and started to make it dance to the song. And the coup de gras, I said "Hey, this octopus sure would make a great Sharpay!" She loved the idea. Thank you lord!!I owe you one!

Next Challenge

Now that our trip to Disney is officially over (although I'm a bit in denial still...sniffle.), I'm trying to look toward our upcoming Colorado trip. This is when I'm going attempt to climb Long's Peak - my first "fourteener". I'm making it my new goal to start rigorously training for it. It's NOT my New Year's resolution though, because those things are always doomed to fail, right? Instead, it's just my newest challenge. And one thing you should know about me: I NEVER back down from a challenge. It's a Burnett girl trait, I think. We're quite competitive. We pretend we're not though. That's part of our game. Usually works too. However, I was initially having a hard time getting properly motivated to exercise........until the holidays came. (cue the bad-ass music...oh yea, are you feelin the mood yet?) Anyway, at the family Christmas party, we were all discussing the Long's Peak climb and my grandmother kept insinuating that I'll never make it up with all of the "athletes" in my family because they've all been exercising, while I've been sitting around on my butt, popping out babies for the last 5 years. (Which is technically true, but it sounds like an insult, none the less) "Are you challenging me, old lady?", I thought. Huh? Huh? Well bring it on Grammy! Bring. It. On. (ok, I don't really talk like this to my grandmother. I love and respect her very much...but this is what I was thinking.) Anyway, I decided then and there that I was gonna be so ready for that damn mountain that I'll be laughing my fucking ass off at the top of it! HA, HA, HA, bitches. Fourteen, schmourteen. I scoff at your wimpy-ass peak....maybe I'll just do it in heels! Just watch me!! Oh yea, you just watch me. Meet ya' at the top, weenies! Here we go...

Mission: Disney

Imagine 2000 miles, 10 days, and 7 kids. OK, it just wouldn't do our trip justice if I also didn't mention the extra 5 pounds that I packed on too. Sounds like a recipe for a disaster, eh? Well, it wasn't too bad. We took a family trip to Disney World, and at the risk of sounding cliche, it was magical! Other than the fact that we cheaped out and opted to drive, our trip was probably like most other peoples experience at Disney. Here's a quick summary:
1)Drive, drive, drive
2)get mauled by a deadly swarm of mosquitos, while peeing on the side of the road - WHAT?! You know you've peed on the side of the road before - stop judging me!
3)Mickey, Mickey, Mickey
4)drop, splash, scream, laugh
5)blow a wad at gift shop
6)eat $10 burgers and $5 cokes
7)get stampeded by a herd of wild Brazilians and made into a huge tourist sandwich; and I must also mention that as a result, my sister and I start to get a little "scrappy" with the crowd.
*note: we are very sweet and kind girls until you F with our children and then we turn into raving bitches...it wasn't pretty. We're both a bit ashamed of our behavior.
8) parade, fireworks, more Mickey
9) son pukes repeatedly (man, what a waste of a perfectly good $10 burger!)
10)Get offered a reefer from the hot German waitress...wait, what? Oh. My sister says she was just offering me a refill on my drink. Damn. That was the best part of the trip. Oh well.
11) more $10 burgers and $5 cokes
12) bank calls to ask if we're making all of these purchases or if we've been robbed. Oy.
13) son pukes some more (it just wouldn't be a proper family trip if one kid didn't get violently ill, right?)
13) more rides, more Mickey, more puking
14) pack up and drive home, on what seems like the longest drive in history, with a carload of Disney crap!!
I think it's important to mention, by the way, that I have the grumpiest family on the face of this earth. In all of our photos I look like Jesus Christ himself came out of the clouds, with my huge cheesy-ass grin. But my husband and sons all looked like death was awaiting them. If Mickey Mouse can't make them smile, then I do believe they are screwed. Poor guys. I think that's why my husband married me, in all truth. I can make him smile. Since he's completely incapable of doing so himself, he needs me around for that. I guess it's like the old saying, "there can only be one peacock in the family", but in this case, only one overly-happy nutcase. Well, I'm glad I get to hold that title. But in all seriousness, we all had a really fantastic time on our family trip to Disney. We made memories that I'll cherish forever. Viva Disney!

Happy Birthday

Since I dogged on my husband in my last blog, I'm gonna spend time on this one praising him. It is his birthday afterall. I wouldn't want him to think I believe he's a complete ass! So anyway, while I was wrapping his birthday presents today, I was listening to Coldplay (Clocks). This song always reminds me of when we lived in Chicago. We had such a great time there. But what stands out the most in my mind is our many life-altering, love-affirming moments that we had there. I used to be a very insecure person. I had the nerve to even question whether my husband loved me or not. But when I reflect on his behavior during our 9 year marriage, it seems obsurd that I could ever consider that. He loved me when I couldn't have children. He loved me when I weighed a bazillion pounds, while carrying our twins. He loved me when my stretch marks never went away. He loved me when I was very, very ill and wanted him to leave me alone. He loved me so much that when we had our house fire, he ran back into a burning building because it was cold outside and he wanted me to have a coat! I get tears in my eyes right now, just thinking about that. I love that man so much! He always knows what I'm thinking, he can always make me smile, and he's always on my side. Who could ask for anything more?! Happy Birthday My Love.

Earth to Husband!

Dear Husband,


You are the greatest person I have in my life and I love you so very,very much. But if you don't start doing some dishes, I'm gonna have to kick your ass! I was out of town for 10 days and when I returned I had to do all of your dishes. As a matter of fact, I can't remember the last time I saw you wash a dish. Did you forget how and you're just embarrassed to tell me that? Because if that's the case, I'll be more than pleased to teach you.


According to my estimate, you dirty up about 5 dishes per day. And it has been about 340 days since you washed a dish . (I think it was my last birthday...maybe...I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt on this one) That means I've washed approximately 1,700 of your dishes. So either start buying paper plates, hire a maid, or get busy washing, asshole! I'm getting tired and grouchy, and I just might start taking it out on you!! That's fair warning, in my opinion. In addition, I'm PMSing and so this whole situation is likely going to turn me into a raving lunatic at any minute. (But if you mention the PMS thing, I'm really going to give you an ass-whooping. So watch yourself, boy!)

Love,
Your sweet-hearted, caring, and adorable wife