Watch What You Say!

Oh boy! Here we go again. Kristin said something REALLY stupid in front of her little ladies and it came back to haunt her. Are you surprised? Probably not. So here's the story:

I decided to go to McDonald's today for lunch with my ladies. Now, Bertrand, I know you're reading this and I know what you're gonna' say at this point.

Yes, I remember the conversation we once had about how me taking the girls to McDonald's to eat was grounds for divorce because you will not sit back and watch me slowly kill our children by feeding them propane-dipped chicken nuggets, etc., etc.

HOWEVER, when you grilled us steaks the other night, you got lighter fluid all over them and you were expecting us to actually EAT them like that, so what's the difference?

ANYWAY, we can discuss this later. I have a story to tell and I'm sure you'll be pleased to discover this does NOT have a happy ending. Oh, wipe that smug look off your face!

SO, where were we? Ah yes - McDonald's. Drive-thru to be exact. I don't like to actually go into those places unless I feel the need to punish my children for being particularly unruly. Just because they don't see me throwing them into the greasy, germ-infested plastic tunnels (which, by the way, are becoming unhinged at one particular McDonald's) as punishment, doesn't mean it isn't.

A truck came around the corner from a different direction, cut me off and dashed ahead of me into the drive-thru line. I thought, "Okay, whatever" and continued to pull forward when just then ANOTHER small truck comes around that same corner and cuts me off even worse than the first truck. I'm thinking, "Okay, it's OBVIOUS I was next in line. Clearly this person is just plain rude!" So I slammed on my brakes very deliberately and dropped my jaw and said aloud, "WOW! That's INCREDIBLE!"

I heard two little voices behind me inquiring, "What mommy? What's indec-a-lubble?"

"Nothing," I replied.

"MOMMY!" the little voices persisted. "What's indec-a-lubble?"

I heaved a big sigh and decided to explain since the truck two spaces ahead who had initially cut me off was taking FOREVER to order. "Well," I started in. "There's a disgusting old lady with missing teeth in front of us who just cut us off and mommy is NOT happy."

"A ugly old lady, mommy? I wanna' see her!" My daughter said with excitement and started trying to wriggle in her carseat to get a better look. "I wanna see missing teef!"

I know! I know! NOT a nice thing to say and so out of character for me...well, in front of my impressionable children at least. Look, I know this is not an excuse, but:

1. I'm big and pregnant and miserable (And no, I will not stop complaining about that until this baby finally gets out of my belly).

2. It's stinkin' hot out!

3. It was a particularly horrid morning with my girls fighting constantly, I had accomplished next to nothing and I was dead tired.

Besides, she did look like this:


I'm not kidding! No, she was definitely a woman. I could tell. Barely, but I could still tell. But she seriously looked like this guy. It's the first thing I thought of when I saw her.

ANYWAY!

So, the girls kept straining to see this "ugly old lady with missing teef" and never could get a good look. I tried to change the subject and convince them to drop it, which eventually ended in success...or so I thought.

After lunch I decided to take the girls to the Fry's by our house. They LOVE going there because the carts have mini cars attached to the front, so they can pretend they're driving me around the store to where the good food is....or both try climbing out the front windshield space, hitting each other, screaming, sometimes falling out the front or sides, etc. It was fun the first few times, but now they've just taken it for granted and drive me NUTS! Anyway, we only needed a few things, so I decided to just tough it out.

So, we're standing in the checkout line finally and I'm spacing out, skimming the magazine headlines, trying to decide if I'm so desperate for an escape, that I'd be willing to drop $3-4 on a magazine about the Desperate Housewives of...I don't remember. Name a city where there AREN'T a bunch of desperate housewives.

Suddenly, I hear a little voice, repeating something over and over, bringing me out of my temporary lobotomy.

"Mommy, is dat da ugly old lady wif missing teef?"

It was my 2-year-old. Suddenly my 3-year-old started chiming in. They continued to ask over and over. I furrowed my brow in confusion and started glancing around, very slowly coming out of my retarded condition, trying to figure out what they were talking about. Suddenly, my eyes fell upon an old, puffy set of ankles riddled with varicose veins. I could feel my eyes widen in their sockets. My breathing became slightly labored, my heart pounding furiously. My eyes slowly moved their way up the body of this person in front of us until they reached the face. It was indeed a much older woman. One who could easily be classified as "old lady". The panic set in. She did NOT look amused.

"Uhhh....." I panted. Their interrogation continued. "That's enough, ladies!" I shouted. But it didn't stop.

"MOM! E! I saaaid...is that a ugly old lady?" My 3-year-old enunciated each word in defiance. I could have choked her.

"SYLVIE-FAYE! I said that's ENOUGH!" I snarled. "That is NOT an ugly old lady! Don't you EVER talk like that AGAIN!"

"Yes she IS a ugly old lady, mommy!" Sylvie insisted. If I could have shot laser beams out of my eyes at that moment and reduced my child to a mere puff of smoke, I just might have. I was shocked and humiliated and completely thrown off guard at my daughter's beligerence. This could only have come from one source. I couldn't bear the thought of it. I knew very well where this behavior came from - ME!

I wanted to die a thousand deaths. I've drawn this story out long enough, so let me just end by saying that I apologized profusely to this old lady, begged her forgiveness on my daughter's behalf and insisted I had no idea why she was saying these things (I'm a terrible liar, I know - even to strangers). The lady was not so forgiving and I can't say that I blame her. She paid for her groceries and stormed out of there completely miffed!

I wish I could say it ended there.

(SIGH)

I pushed forward, my face a deep purple at this point, fighting back tears of humiliation welling in my eyes. "Oh my gosh! I'm so embarrassed right now." I unloaded on the poor cashier.

"That's okay," she replied, then bent down to my daughter's level and said, "She WAS an ugly old lady, wasn't she? And mean too."

I clenched my jaw and grimaced. My daughter nodded her head and said, "Yeah. She's a mean, ugly, old lady!"

"Yeah," my 2-year-old chimed in. "She a mean, ugly....(hesitating, trying to remember the rest of the adjectives)..."

My 3-year-old decided to help, "Stupid, old lady!"

"Sylvie! No! No!" I scolded firmly.

My panting returned. I was completely emotionally exhausted at this point. I just wanted to get back to the safety of my own home. Obviously my children are not completely fit for social interraction. Time to return to the cave and start over.

The End

HA! I WISH!

We got outside the store and made our way through the parking lot. Moving down the aisle at a somewhat moderate speed, my eyes caught sight of the woman from the store. I felt that pins and needles sensation of instant fear set into my skin. At this point I'm already sweating and panting.

"Mommy, look! That's the stupid, ugly, old lady!" Sylvie just wasn't gonna' let it go.

"Yeah stupid lady!" Chloe added.

They both started giggling. I glanced over in horror at the old lady. I could see her attempting to shoot laser beams out of her eyes at this point, but luckily they short circuited and I made a successful dash to my car, narrowly avoiding an early death.

AAAAHHHHHH!!! Let me tell ya' - my girls got the lecture of a LIFETIME on the way home from the grocery store and they were sent immediately to bed for a nap!

I've Gone International

Gotta love Youtube. I've been able to reach a lot more people, most from other countries. I would say more than 50% of my subscribers and fans are from the UK and now joining the ranks are Bahrain and Panama City.

Recently a young girl from Bahrain wrote me and asked permission to make a music video for my song "Don't Walk Away". In her e-mail she wrote, "I'm sure you get this request all the time" (I don't. She's the first) and "I know you have millions of fans" (That's my fantasy, but I can only claim a very small fraction of that number). Anyway, I was completely flattered, of course, that this young girl was such a big fan and wanted to help promote me, so I granted her permission to use my song to make a video and this is what she came up with.

I think it's really sweet and she wrote me again asking me to please comment and rate it. So, to show my appreciation, I'm promoting her video. Please go watch it and leave her a nice comment if you can. She's just a young girl and I think this is all really cute. She's just helping me live the fantasy that I'm some big rock star from the US.

This is a joke, right?

Is it just me or is this latest advertisement on TV extremely disturbing?

It's for Latisse. It's a prescription you need from your doctor. It makes your eyelashes grow and thicken and darken. Sounds fabulous - especially for someone like me who has practically non-existent eyelashes and lately they seem to have shrunken. I'm not kidding. It's very sad. I have to pack on the mascara and buy the kind that supposedly extends your lashes, but that doesn't even seem to work anymore, so I see this commercial and I think, "Oooh. Sounds awesome. I wanna' try it..."

Until they list the SIDE EFFECTS! HELLO!

First of all, EVERYONE who uses the product should expect red, itchy, irritated eyes. Okay, maybe not TOO bad. Hopefully after the treatment, all of that will stop and it will have been worth it. However, it is recommended you use this product for something like 18 weeks.

And the side effects are:

1. Discoloration of eyelids, which MAY be reversible. "MAY" being the keyword here.

2. Discoloration of your IRIS! May cause them to turn brown - permanently! ARE YOU SERIOUS, PEOPLE?

I read the review on-line from people who have used this product. They say they wake up the morning after applying and they look and feel like they have conjunctivitis. One woman said her eyelashes were falling out!

What is this world coming to? What are we doing to ourselves? It's all about looks, apparently. Inner beauty? Pff. Who cares. Give me some Botox and collagen lip injections, a spray on tan and now LATISSE! No pain, no gain, right?

I heard a sad prediction a few years ago that eventually the USA would reach a point where such a large percentage of the population would be indulging in plastic surgery and aesthetic procedures that those who decided to age naturally would look plain and hideous. That's pretty sad.

I imagine if I used Latisse, my result would turn out something like this:

It's Baaaack!

I know I'm totally posting this to the wrong blog, but I think most have forgotten about my other blogs since I haven't posted there in ages, so here goes:

There was a man here. He disappeared. And now he's back.

It was mid afternoon. A weekend. Bertrand was away. I expected him home in about an hour. The girls were asleep. I fell asleep. No one else was around....or so I thought. I eventually stirred out of my sleep and stretched. I rolled over and checked the clock. It was 5 minutes past the hour I expected my husband home. Then I heard something - the clicking of keys. Keyboard keys. To a computer. Bertrand's computer, to be exact - in the room right across the hall.

"Hmmm. He's home already," I thought. Then I drew in a deep, cleansing breath and closed my eyes, nestling into my pillow to catch a few more Zs. The intermittent clicking of the keys followed by clicking of the mouse, along with the occasional squeak of movement in the chair continued. Not to mention, there were a few sniffs in there, as if he was clearing his nose.

After a few moments I heard the carport door unlocking and opening. I opened my eyes and listened intently. "Where's he going?" I thought to myself. Then I heard the footsteps moving down the hall - moving in my direction. I laid very still and listened. Then Bertrand appeared in the doorway of our bedroom.

"Hey, hon. Have you been sleeping?"

I furrowed my brow and studied him - thinking. Bertrand continued into the room and began changing his clothes. "Hmmm?" He inquired after my unresponsiveness.

"Honey? Did you JUST come home? As in just now?" I asked.

"Yeah. Didn't you hear me come in?" He responded casually.

"Ummm....yeah." I glanced toward the doorway, thinking, worrying. Was he back?

"What's up, hon?" Bertrand asked. He could tell something was going on in my head and my responses weren't the norm.

I drew in a long breath and sighed. "I swear you've been at your computer, typing, clicking the mouse, moving around in the chair, and....sniffing for the last little while."

"Sniffing?" He asked, chuckling slightly.

"Well, you know - that noise you make when you're clearing your nose. Everyone does it. But, yeah - definitely a sniffing sound."

"Well, I just got in", he reminded me.

"Yeah. I know, but then....who's been on your computer?"

He shrugged nonchalantly and went about his business.

Creeeeepy.

So, here we are several days later. My sister came over with her toddler son and something was clearly bothering him. He kept staring at a certain part of the room and fussing and clinging to my sister. My sister turned to me and said, "That's so weird. It's like there's something over there that he sees and it's bothering him." Could it have been....'The Man'?

Time to move.

A Disturbing Discovery

Today my daughter Sylvie, at the tender age of almost 4 had to learn a very scary truth. I don't know if she'll ever be the same after this. She may require therapy later on. Only time will tell...

Now, I've written before of the many spirits that seem to haunt this place we currently inhabit. We've all witnessed them. But now it seems there is yet another sort of creature that inhabits this place and my poor, sweet daughter was the first to catch sight of it. This one makes a snarling, grunting sort of noise. It's positively frightening when you hear it - especially the first time. It totally catches you off guard. It comes from behind a certain doorway down the hall. Here's how it was first discovered:

This afternoon I had to come home early from church. The pregnancy is wearing on me and I had an episode where I felt really dizzy and shaky and short of breath and had to just come home and lie down for a bit. My husband was left with the two girls and of course they wanted to stay with me, so he left us three in the master bed with a movie so we could relax and hopefully doze off.

Fifteen minutes later the girls were restless and I was exhausted. I could tell we all needed a nap, so I directed the girls to their own room and followed close behind to tuck them in for a nice afternoon nap. All was quiet and we all fell into a deep sleep.

The rest of this story is according to my husband who witnessed this horrific occurrence with my daughter. He told me later that when he returned home from church he was on his computer and suddenly he saw Sylvie in the hallway. She slowly crept out of her room and tiptoed cautiously onto the tile floor of the hall, particularly interested in the sound coming from behind the doorway across the hall. She didn't see her daddy behind her on the computer. She was so engrossed in discovering what the noise was behind the door. Bertrand, hearing the noise and seeing Sylvie creep closer to it, got up quickly from his chair and followed close behind.

Bertrand claims at this point Sylvie turned and saw her daddy behind her. Her eyes were wide as saucers and she whispered loudly, "Papa! There's a monster in your room!"

He explained to her that it was just mommy - SNORING!

"No, Papa. It's a monster!" She insisted very adamantly.

"No Sylvie", he replied. "It's just mommy snoring. Come with me. I'll show you."

He took her into our room and she peered around the corner, still cautious, and saw me lying in the bed, and heard the horrible, loud, snorting noise.

She then turned to him and said, "Wow, mommy makes a lot of noise."

When I awoke later, Bertrand relayed the story to me. I was so mortified and it sounded so funny, I laughed until I cried. I called out to Sylvie, "Hey, did you hear mommy snoring today?" Sylvie nodded her head with big eyes and said, "Yeah, mommy. You gotta' stop doing that."

THAT is what poor Bertrand has to sleep next to every night. Apparently the more pregnant I am, the louder and more obnoxiously I snore. It's so mortifying, but this story was too funny not to tell. So there you have it - there's a ferocious beast that lurks in the master bedroom and it's called MOMMY SLEEPING!