The Creature on our Fridge

We've been fighting with Blake since just after birth to keep him out of the refrigerator. Last year we got one of those locks for the fridge door and that worked for a while but soon he figured it out and we've been back to square one for several months. He gets in it before everyone else is up, or while we're doing other things. We're constantly finding pasta or chicken or packages of lunchables torn open and under his bed, dresser or wherever he wants to stash them. Today was the last straw.

Blake is horribly, HORRIBLY afraid of Halloween decorations. Two weeks ago we had to go to Factory Card Outlet and that was the day they started putting their Halloween stuff up. They didn't actually have anything OUT just the ginormous sign on their door that says HALLOWEEN. Blake TOTALLY freaked the hell out. I said, "Fine. I'll just leave you hear all by yourself outside." "OK." he said. WTG, Amy. That worked out well. I said, "I can't leave you out here you HAVE to go in with me. We're not even going to LOOK at the Halloween stuff. We're going to the other side of the store."

"I just want to hide here under your shirt." he said and started lifting up the back of my shirt. He screamed and cried and I had to pull on his arm so hard to get him in the door I thought I would end up dislocating it at the shoulder but I got him in. I kept my promise and we went to the other side of the store and he declared himself "very brave" at the registers. Sure ya are, buddy.

So, today after we found four hot dogs STILL IN THE PACKAGE in the trash for no apparent reason and two boxes of lunchables torn up in his room (not the little ones either, the expensive mamas with the candy and drink pouch) we had HAD IT! Adam went to Factory Card Outlet after dinner to find something horrible to hang on the refrigerator. He came home and we affixed this bad boy to the fridge.

It has a sensor so when you come near it it wiggles and shakes, it's eyes light up and says things like, "Let me out of here!!" Blake hates it. We are all loving it. If it works we're adopting it, naming it Tammy and starting her a college fund.

Fucktards and a birthday...not necessarily in that order

I'm getting pretty stoked for Emily's surprise party except I've only got two confirmed guests from her class and one neighbor girl. Three neighbor boys are coming, at least I assume, but they don't "count." They don't get to get one of the fabulous rocker girl parting gifts I'm putting together. I've got so much cleaning to do this week it's re.dick but whatever. At least I'll get some alone time this week during the day while the kids are in school so it will be a bit easier to do just that. I've also got to get the cake ordered at some point.

Blake's bus fucktards are still pissing me off and I can only blame my own laziness for not calling the principal to complain. I'm not usually like that when it comes to things involving my kids. Last Tuesday Blake's bus that was supposed to arrive at 3:55 came at 4:50. That's not a typo. Four motha-fuckin' fiddy! At 4:40 I called the bus barn to find out where the hell my kid was. I told them my son rides bus 19 and wasn't there yet...supposed to be 3:55...what the hell? The guy said, bus 19 is here, the keys are hanging up and the driver is gone. I FLIPPED! I was like, WHERE THE HELL IS MY SON?? He said, are you sure he isn't on bus 27? Oh. Yeah. Sorryboutthat. He said the bus was running about 20 minutes late. TWENTY MINUTES???? It's 4:40! I said, when EXACTLY is this bus supposed to arrive because the last I was told it was 3:55. "Oh, no." he said. "Let me check but that's not right." He comes back to say the bus should be arriving at 4:04. "OOOOOOHHHHHHH. Well now that makes a big difference, doesn't it? Still wanna tell me the bus is running about 20 minutes late?" "He should be there in about 10 minutes ok?" "mmm." Was all I could muster out of my mouth because of the shear anger that was building up inside of me. I hung up, mumbled a bunch of stuff about his mother and the size of his manhood and waited the ten minutes for Blakey to get there. The next day when the bus arrived at 4:37 and I was mumbling to myself about not calling the principal, the bus driver had the BALLS to say, "Not bad. Better than yesterday, huh?" I gave him a look that told him I wasn't afraid to rip his nose off with my teeth and put Blake in the car. I hate those fucktards.