Drowning In My Soap Box Bubbles Part 2

I don’t have a whole lot of tolerance for door to door solicitors. I probably should have made this #1 on my previous soap box list.

After being the victim of magazine subscriptions for starving college students that just need to raise money for a trip to Italy, or that $40 bottle of miracle cleaner that miraculously didn’t  perform miracles once added to my household cleanser collection, or the two hour vacuum demo that no amount of vacuuming you do to my carpet or lamp shades or curtains is going to convince me to spend $2,000 on a fucking vacuum ( I could buy a cash car for that and hell no I didn’t buy the vacuum), the one thing that annoys me the most, is people that try to sell me on their religion.

Holy mothers nipples.

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Those arguments are the reason I stuck a NO SOLICITING sign on my storm door.

Here’s the deal: Don’t tell me what you have to offer is not in total disregard of my no soliciting sign. Don’t tell me you’re not selling anything. Because you are.

You’re trying to sell me on a belief I don’t want to hear. And I have  heard it before and don’t agree with it, so leave.

Don’t argue with me on my own fucking property and try to recruit me for your mission. Now get back on your bicycle, fasten up your helmet, and peddle away.

Why? Why is it okay to harass people in the name of religion?

Would they be okay with me knocking on their front door at an ungodly hour on a Saturday morning for the sole purpose of shoving my agenda down their throat? Probably not.

So don’t do it to me.

Don’t be the asshole that thinks my no soliciting sign doesn’t apply to you.

Because it does.

I clean my own house.

We mow our own damn yard.

I married a mechanic; I don’t need your lube job.

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My roof is good. My gutters are fine. I was raised in church, and I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT.

Don’t get me wrong; I genuinely love people from all walks of life.

But it’s all about the approach.

If you approach me in a friendly, non-confrontational manner, I will  listen to what you have to say. I might even take your business card or flyer or religious tract.

But,  if I’m not interested, and I tell you “I’m not interested”, then go bother someone else, okay??

And don’t argue with me on my own damn porch. You won’t like my response.

Are you mad?

Yes

No

Bitch I might be

I’m thinking of changing up my no soliciting sign. I’m thinking of customizing it to say:

NO SOLICITING. Unless you have girl scout cookies or are offering free puppy cuddles. All others knock at your own risk.

Do solicitors bother you, or am I just an asshole??

Always end your day with laughter,

Olive Oyl Momma

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My Dog Just Gave Me The Stink Eye

And if my dog is giving me the stink eye, that means he did something naughty. Most likely he got into the bathroom trash and dug out q-tips. He really digs ear wax.

Anyway……

Do you ever sit around chit chatting with friends and ponder what exactly your children might do when they’re grown up? I do. I often tell people when it comes to offspring 2 that I’m not exactly sure what he’ll do later in life, but I do know he’ll be great at it.

Here’s why.

When he was seven or eight years old he announced he wanted a job so that he could earn his own money.

I told him I admired his ambition, however, he was a bit young to become gainfully employed. And that’s when he informed me that if he was too young to work for someone else, then he would just have to be the boss.

Surprised-CatOkay, let’s clear something up really quick. Offspring 2 may be a kid, but he acts like a forty year old man trapped in a child’s body.

So me being that mom who actually likes  for her kiddos to have an opinion wanted to know, what exactly do you propose?

He says a lemonade stand.

So we talked it through. I told him, “Here’s the deal kid. Your clientele would most likely be the other neighborhood kids and you know most of them. So the expectation that friends should get free lemonade would be high. In the long run, you would have more money invested in product than you would actually be making in profit. So in summary, you need to do something that appeals to adults because that’s where the money is at.”

He was hanging on every word and practically taking notes and then proceeds to ask, “so what do you suggest?”

And as God is my witness, I forgot that I was brainstorming with a child and blurted out, “You’re gonna have to spike your lemonade with Vodka.”

CHA-CHING

Then he, also without missing a beat yells, ” YOU GO BUY IT AND I’LL CALL IT LIQUORNADE!”

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And that’s the story of how I went into the spiked lemonade business with my kid.

Just kidding! But seriously though, where do they come up with these ideas?

Have your kids ever surprised you with a business venture? Let me know!

Always end your day with laughter,

Olive Oyl Momma

Let Me Play For You The Sounds Of My People – Yes It’s My Washer

Some days I swear laundry is the story of my life.

Just when you think you’re caught up the kids get home from school and start to strip. Game. Over.

I imagine that when I die, laundry will be a part of my eulogy.

“She could wash and fold towels like a boss.”

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Someone reading this is smirking because they think they’re caught up on laundry. Take a look at your dusty ass curtains. You’re welcome.

There is always something to wash; For example, I could wash sheets today. But I won’t. I bought a one way ticket to Laundry-Ain’t-Us Ville and my train just left the station.

Show of hands: I know I’m not the only mom that’s ever been woken up in the middle of the night by a puking kid. It’ s a sound that will make your hair stand on end. Even worse is when you wake up because you feel someone staring at you while you sleep and it’s your kid announcing they think they’re gonna hurl. For the love of all that is holy get the hell out of here then!

Another show of hands: Who else has ever tossed the puke sheets in the trash and said not today Satan. There are some things that I’ll just replace. Fuck it.

Knock on wood and pass me the salt shaker, I haven’t had a puker in a while. I think my kids are getting to that age where things like that don’t happen as often anymore. Thank. God.

When offspring 1 was a wee baby, he had a nasty little stomach bug. So I had him laying next to me in my bed because he looked and felt so pitiful.

And that’s when he vomits in my ear.

IN. MY. EAR.

Have you ever had puke in your ear?? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. Pretty sure there’s still a bit of something blocking my tubes.

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For those of you that have yet to have kids and are now second guessing the possibility, hear me; I have also had puke in my bra, and hair and once offspring 1 puked in my hands because it was the only receptacle I had available at the time.

Parenting is not for the faint of heart or weak of stomach. But it is a wild ride, so if you fancy yourself a thrill seeker, bust you out a baby then.

In a nutshell, you wash a lot of shit after you have kids. Literally. Not sure how a cat turd made its way to the washer, but it happened.

If any of you have a good puke story, or even turd story about your kids that you want to share with me, please do. I’m feeling a bit shittastic today so let’s keep this party going!

Always end your day with laughter,

Olive Oyl Momma

I Wish It Was Friday; Also, I Wish I Had An Elephant

This was the morning breakfast conversation I had with offspring 2 today.

He announced he wished it was Friday. I said ugh, hold up. It has to be at least Wednesday to wish for Friday. Let’s wish for an elephant in the backyard instead.

Conversations with kids are fun.

Anywho, let’s recap the weekend. I took a brief reprieve from blogging; it was starting to consume me. Every thought that flits through my head I want to blog about. Apparently it has affected my husband, too, as he said more than once this past weekend, “you should blog about that.” Which had me wondering, is there an echo in here??

Saturday gave us beautiful weather so the husband took the offspring fishing at a creek. They brought home a friend which I promptly informed them we wouldn’t be keeping. Meet Muddy Buddy:

Muddy Buddy

Thanks to one of my brilliant, genius friends that knows all things turtle, we found out this little dude is a common Musk or Mud Turtle. Years ago, we had a tiny baby red eared slider. Turtles are really cool but they also are really stinky. So on that note, I didn’t want to add to my zoo. As you can see, I made him a little mud box and after a few hours of observation, we released him back into the creek. Good times!

In our house we are HUGE Walking Dead fans. If you’re not, leave. now.

Just kidding.

The season finale was last night. I won’t give any spoilers but I will say it wasn’t as exciting as we were hoping. Bottom line: Daryl is still with us and that’s all that matters.

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You’re welcome ladies.

So I guess that about sums it up.

It’s Monday, my alarm went off at WTF o’clock, and here I am.

I’ll be seeing all of you tomorrow!

Always end your day with laughter,

Olive Oyl Momma

P.S. What did all of you do with your weekend? Let me know in the comments!

P.S.A for the Parents, And Also You Over There Eavesdropping

Night before last I did something obscene.

After cooking and eating dinner with the family, I proceeded with my normal nightly routine of put away leftovers, load dishwasher, wash dishes, pack sack lunches and prep coffee maker for the a.m.

And then at 7:45 in the evening, I left.

I left and went over to a girlfriend’s house and spent three hours drinking coffee while catching up with a good friend.

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It was up to my husband to make sure the offspring took their showers, brushed their teeth and went to bed on time. And *GASP*, everything went off without a hitch.

Can you believe it??

The Earth did not stop spinning because mom took some time for herself.

The house did not burn down.

A party wasn’t thrown.

And pigs did not start to fly.

So here’s a question for you:

When was the last time you took a time-out?

When was the last time you had coffee with a friend without the interruptions of life storming in?

When was the last time you had a nap or a pedicure or simply read a book in peace?

Hey dads! When was the last time you hung out with a buddy?

Went fishing? Played Golf? Or just zoned out in front of the t.v. all by yourself?

If you can’t remember the last time, then now is the time.

Stop. Making. Excuses.

We are better people when when we take some time for ourselves.

We are better parents, spouses, partners and friends when we give ourselves a break.

I came home from coffee time relaxed and ready for bed. I came home with a smile on my face because we did a LOT of laughing.

I came home and everything was fine.

So here’s the deal: try in the next week to find time for a break. Even if it’s just an hour, try.

And then come back here and tell me about it.

Always end your day with laughter,

Olive Oyl Momma

So A Tampon & A Maxi Pad Walk Into A Bar…..

Today’s post is full of foul; don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I have Endometriosis. Yesterday, mother nature dropped her bomb and today I’m auctioning off my uterus to the lowest bidder. Hell, I’ll give the bitch away.

I wish I could adequately describe the pain in my lower back to those who don’t suffer from this shittastic monthly problem. Let’s just say me and my heating pad have an understanding even though he’s burned me a time or twenty.

Now let’s talk about the bloating that also accompanies the menses.

I. Look. Pregnant.

Early second trimester. It’s ridiculous. Fortunately, I have yet to be a victim of “oh you’re pregnant!” because it wouldn’t end well for the person that uttered those words. I would most likely throat punch them then follow it up with a Go Fuck Yourself.

And to top it all off I have a really bad attitude right now. This is the ONLY time of the month that I can say anything to anyone and have no regrets. None. Zero. Zilch.

I’m like a bad infomercial.

“Do you need to tell someone off but don’t know how?? Well here’s your chance folks. Call 1-900-oliveoylmomma and for the low rate of just .10 cents a minute she’ll gladly tell every rat bastard mother fucker that’s ever done you wrong or looked at you cross eyed where to go and exactly how to get there. Don’t delay, call today!”

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Now, some of you may be thinking, “this crazy bitch needs a doctor!” Well I have one. And her answer was Prozac. Let me tell you what THAT did. It took the edge off. So my filter was slightly thicker, but I still told random strangers to eat shit and die.

Normally I’m a really, really nice person. I like to bake cookies and shit. And cuddle with puppies.

But not today. Tomorrow isn’t looking good for me either.

So there you have it. Once a month every month I’m an asshole.

Thanks for stopping by!

Olive Oyl Momma

P.S. Today I’m not laughing BUT, I would like to so please, tell me something funny. Anything. I’ll only ask nicely once and then you know what could happen…

Britches &Twitches – Things That Make Mom’s Drink Wine in the Closet

It’s spring picture day at the elementary school and I’m typing this one-handed because I have a death grip on my wine bottle with the other. It’s not quite 9 a.m.

Not really but, I’m on the verge.

You would think that offspring number 2 at the ripe old age of ten would no longer argue about what he will and will not wear on any given day.

Think again.

I swear my youngest was born in the wrong era. He would have been much happier fashion-wise as a child of the 70’s; obscenely short shorts and t-shirts everyday. Peace & Love dude.

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It’s my fault really. Apparently I passed on the OCD gene and he was the lucky recipient. You know what they say, if it’s not one thing it’s the mother.

Let’s take it back to his toddler years so you can gain a clearer understanding here:

Cowboy boots, diaper and t-shirt. Done. Dressed for the day so obviously we stayed home a lot.

A bit older and it became shorts and flip-flops. Everyday.

When he started kindergarten and found out he would need to wear actual pants quite a bit, the meltdowns came. Eventually (now don’t laugh), we had to confiscate and hide all of his shorts. No joke. No matter the weather or reasoning, he always wanted to wear shorts.

Imagine our surprise when one day we said to the offspring, “get dressed, we’re going out to dinner”, and out he comes wearing a knit polo with swim trunks and tennis shoes.

It never occurred to us that we needed to take the swimming apparel, too.

In more recent years it has become somewhat better. We incorporated his help with clothing purchases and found out that he’ll only wear thin cotton plaid shorts (they feel the best), he prefers v-neck t’s to crew, he has one pair of jeans that “don’t make him sweat”, ankle socks ONLY but they MUST be a specific style in the toe so as not to bunch up when wearing tennis shoes, and don’t get me started on the whole underwear thing. I’ll save that for another day.

To top it all off, we also had to reach an agreement about when he can and cannot wear shorts. So, three seasons out of four he checks the weather religiously. If the temps are supposed to reach at least 60 degrees, he can wear shorts.

The only clothing he never complains about are his school uniforms. Why, we’ll never know.

Okay, so back to this morning. Spring pictures = the kids can wear whatever they want. I had visions of him wearing a plaid button-up looking spring-like and shit. That’s not what happened.

After a lot of huffing, eye rolling and a foot stomp or two (all of these were my actions), he left the house in a v-neck and plaid cotton shorts.

Go. Figure.

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Always end your day with laughter,

Olive Oyl Momma

P.S. Do your kids have any funny quirks? Share them with me! And then we’ll have wine!