he's a boob man...

Okay, maybe it's because he was breastfed, then again, it could be some sort of "wiring" that the male species just comes with, but it has come to my recent attention that T.Man is definitely a boob man. Nothing makes him more content than to grab my shirt and check out my personal belongings (so much for modesty). He seems particularly intrigued with a small freckle that I was blessed with (okay, *sigh*, it's a mole....but it's really not that noticeable - well, to anyone but T.Man.). Every time he snuggles up to me (and often just when he happens to be sitting in my lap), out come his little pinchers and he's off to make certain that my freckle (*sigh*, okay, OKAY, mole - there, are you happy?) has not gone to live with some other deserving family. I know young folks can be a bit "odd" (no offense kiddos), but between his innocent ogling of Mom's packaging, his absolute can't-take-my-eyes-off-it.....MOLE...., and his tendency to drag around heavy electronics by the cord (first it was a waffle-iron, then a clothes iron, then he moved on to the George Foreman Lean Mean Grillin' Machine), I'm beginning to really wonder about the the little fella...bless his heart.

uh, sorry...i hadn't noticed...

I can't stinkin' believe all the stuff that goes unnoticed around here - by me, by Kingdaddy, by ChoreFairy Jr....okay, T.Man is off the hook since he's not even 2 yet, but sheesh!

1. I'm all smart and pattin' myself on the back for ordering these nifty grocery sack holder-thingies that loop around your car's headrest. I'm thinking, "I am SO smart - this will help SO much when we do our massive, almost bankrupt-us trips to Wal-Mart." I head out to the SUV today to install them - guess what? I don't HAVE headrests. DUH!

2. All I hear about is how cluttered our house is (it is) and how we have too much stuff (we do) and not enough places to put it (again, true too), so I decide to impress Kingdaddy by cleaning out the computer desk and trying to eek out a little space inside and outside said desk. I spend roughly 2/3 of my Sunday doing it (because T.Man INSISTED on being in the middle of everything, so there were lots of tears [T.Man's, not mine] and the occasional frustrated not-so-nice-verbiage [mine, not T.man's]), I manage to outdo myself on the drawers and even opened up lots of space for our feet underneath the desk and most importantly, found a place to store our no-longer-needed-but-let's-hold-onto-it-in-case-we-have-a-keyboard-emergency keyboard. I'm all smug and feelin' good and when I ask Kingdaddy what he thinks, ya' know what he says? "Oh yeah, it looks good. But I don't really remember what it looked like before." ARRGGGHHH!!! Is that scenario a reasonable excuse for spousal homicide?

3. Chore Fairy Jr. announces that she's done cleaning up her room (and let's be honest, the word "cleaning" is being used very loosely here). MomtheBomb (that's me), enters and immediately spies the following on the floor: one crushed water bottle, one water bottle with a little water left in it, five bottle caps, three dirty socks, paper, more paper, pencils, earrings, one shoe, a bath rag, paper, more paper, and an assortment of books. When MomtheBomb asks about these items, Chore Fairy Jr. gives me the blank, what-on-earth-are-you-talking-about-woman stare, which is shortly followed by, "But it IS clean!"

My conclusion? Housework is something that only gets noticed when it's NOT done.

things i should never have to say...

Top Ten Things I Should Never Have Had To Say (but did...)

1. Don't play with the stapler.

2. What do you mean you don't know how you're getting home today? (Almost always said 2 minutes before the bell rings to go home.)

3. Stop looking up cuss words in the dictionary.

4. I hope that's not a staph infection.

5. Did you put the oranges in the toilet?

6. Leave the worms ALONE!

7. We don't have "special pencils" in third grade - JUST TAKE ONE AND SIT DOWN!

8. Who is responsible for this giant ball of tape back here?

9. Quit staring at the groundhog.

10. Who put the [fill-in-the-blank-here] in the sink - that's just gross!



Teaching...it's more than a job...it's a life choice.

who am i and why am i here?

Okay, in all my blogging attempts I have managed to focus on my family (1 dear husband, 1 dear son, 1 dear daughter, 3 dogs and countless porch critters). Cut and paste here for that sugary sweetness: www.thefabulousfreemanfour.blogspot.com

This blog is just for documentation of my fabulous, high-rollin', snooty-tooty, full-of-awesomeness, life. Yeah. Whatever.

I've been reading many, many other blogs (thanks to my new time killer Christmas gift, my iTouch - what a flippin' awesome gadget - thanks Dad!) and I must let you know that I am not thebloggess. If you haven't caught her blog, and you are not offended by major league potty mouthedness (okay, I know I just made up that word - I'm a teacher, so I can do that), you really should check her out, particularly her posts about Diet Dr. Pepper and the lies told by the Doc, and DEFINITELY the James Garfield posts. I actually snorted with laughter and almost (I said, ALMOST, meaning not quite) peed my pants when I read her posts. Hysterical gal. The sad part about it is I TOTALLY got why she had to have James Garfield. It's not something I can explain, but I get it.

The other blogger I've been following really closely is the snarky mom. She has only minor league potty mouthedness, but she's equally as funny as the bloggess, albeit more in line with the momness of things. (Yeah, I know, I made up another word. Go me.) She's the kind of gal that I could not sit through a decent hour of people watching with without screaming in laughter and giving other people even more reason to dislike themselves.

Speaking of which, don't you think we're all just a little too hard on ourselves these days? I mean, for crying out loud, particularly us gals - we're expected to do it all (work full time at a place of business and also full time at home), look good doin' it, dress uncomfortably, and smile and be sweet the whole time?? Whatever. If I can find a way to do it right AND cut corners, I'm there with bells on Missy! If it's comfortable, cozy, saves time and/or energy (meaning MY lacking-in-energy-hypothyroidistic-butt...thanks Mom AND Dad), I'm all about it with a pat of butter. As long as the job is getting done well (sorry, but I'm a bit of a perfectionist in a very weird sort of way), then cut all the corners you can. I'm just sayin'.

I've been blessed with a husband who loves to eat out. Granted, some of this is due to the fact that I can't cook. Yeah, okay, go ahead with the "did ya' hear about the girl from the South that couldn't cook?" jokes. ANYWAY, because of my lack of skills and his desire to eat everything battered and deep fried, we spend many a meal picking up lunch and supper from our local quick stop or truck stop. Seriously. I remember the days when I used to be amazed that people ate "real" food (read: perishable, must be refrigerated and cooked) that came from truck stops or quick stops. Shoot, that's about all we eat now-a-days. But really, the food is really very good, from huge and awesomely good-for-you Chef salads to made-to-order club sandwiches, they've just about got it all between our three choices. I'm not sure which is suffering more - our health or the planet (that's a lot of Styrofoam we're adding to the landfills each week). Maybe my lack of political correctedness in regards to the environment will get my blog more hits? One can always hope.

Well, that's about it for now. I know some of you are still mulling over the whole "three choices" of places to eat thing. Yeah, yeah - you know the drill - teeny town, everybody knows every body's business and what they don't know they make up, one stop-light, one...maybe two?? police cars, yada, yada, yada. Yep, it's small. And it's home.

bless your heart ya'll...

Ahhh..."bless your heart." I love the South. I love being a Southerner. We so enjoy playing around with our language, creating cliches, catchphrases, and oddball comments that stick for whatever reason. The phrase, "bless your heart," when spoken directly to the person (as in this case 'cause of the use of the word "you"), it is a sincere sign of affection. A verbal hug, if you will. It is most often said from one female to another, usually after one of the gals has opened her heart to reveal what a tough time she's been having lately (her church family isn't getting along, for example, or maybe her husband is being a man...yes, you read that right, but that's a whole other post). We Southerners are known for our hospitality and thanks to the movie, "Steel Magnolias," someone finally figured out that all the women down here aren't in constant competition with each other but rather, are genuinely and for the most part, loyal friends. That bein' said, there are other ways to use the whole "bless your heart" phrase and I admit, some of them aren't so friendly.

When someone says, "bless her/his heart," it can mean any number of things, most of them not terribly flattering to the "her/his" in question. Here are a few scenarios you may come across in which the meaning of the phrase may be a bit blurry, particularly to folks that aren't from these parts:

(a) Sympathetic with a smile - while most of you are probably thinking, "Well, sympathy is always a nice thing to show to another person," some of you (who know where I'm goin' with this) realize it's not necessarily a positive type of sympathy. You see, when someone says "bless her heart" in a sympathetic tone with a smile, she is usually insinuating that the person we're blessing isn't all together with the program. Well, Malin, what do you mean by that? Well, I'll ya' - I mean that this poor soul is clueless. Ditzy. Slow. Bless her heart.

(b) Sympathetic shock - Okay, this sympathy is not all that bad, it really is truly meant, however, it's more along the lines of, "Oh-my-gosh-thank-you-Lord-that-hasn't-happened-to-me/my-family/my-children," etc. This blessing of hearts is often heard in loud whispers, said with wide eyes, and anticipated by any gossip-monger within twenty miles, 'cause there's always a really juicy story (albeit sometimes sad) on the other side of the "bless her heart."

(c) Sarcastic - What? Didn't you know that sarcasm was birthed and bred in the south? Why my goodness yes! Where you been all these years?! The sarcastic "bless her heart" is said in frustration with the latest heart-bleeding, violin-playin', "ain't-nothin'-goin'-right-and-nothin-ever-will" kinda' gal. You know the type - the kind that no matter what's goin' on, she's gonna be complainin' about SOMETHING and her life is always worse off than anyone else's. In reality, she's got all she needs and probably more than enough, yet she's never satisfied. Funny...now that I think about it, I've heard more "bless HIS hearts" used for this purpose. Hhhmmm....

I hope I've given you some things to think about, concerning blessings, Southerners, and the like. I decided on a whim to carve out this corner of the Internet for myself. I've got another blog that I don't get to update as much as I'd like (thefabulousfreemanfour.blogspot.com) that revolves around my family. This one's just for me. And for you...bless your heart.