2007

Ghetto Cold

February 23, 2007 by Queen of Spain 13 Comments

I’m making pizza for breakfast so I can crank the stove.

My thermostat is broke and I can’t bring myself to just turn the stove on for heat. Too ghetto. So I’m making pizza.

MMMMMM pizza at 8am.

What? The furnace guys don’t get here until 9 and I’m not sitting around in the cold.

Yes, I said cold. It’s 52 degrees in my house. I know Karen will call me a pussy, but this Cali girl can’t handle it. Sure, sure…grew up in the gray tundra that is metro-Detroit…but I was never a very good cold person there either. I was the girlfriend you started the car for 45 minutes in advance, not 10. You dropped me off at the entrance and after dinner ran to get the car in the parking lot, while I waited at the bar.

So here I am, taking 5 minutes to get my pizza out of the oven, because I can’t just stand over the warm, open oven. That would be way too white trash.

So instead I’ll pretend to fix the handle. And maybe put in some cookies or something. If you hear about a dead family in LA County, carbon monoxide or something..that’s us.

Filed Under: Stepford Crazies

A HILL-uva lot of Guilt

February 21, 2007 by Queen of Spain 8 Comments

Senator Barak Obama was 35 miles from me this week and I got myself a ticket and tried to get there.

Didn’t happen. The rally occurred Queen-less, while I stayed home with two sick children, but I would have liked to have gone and held a sign and showed my support for the senator from Illinois.

That left me feeling guilty. The guilt has been creeping up on me slowly since the smooth talking Obama entered the race and now it’s weighing right on top of my glass-ceiling breaking head.

Have I betrayed my fellow women by supporting Obama? Should I be rallying behind Hillary??? Is this lifelong feminist throwing away the first, legitimate chance at seeing a FEMALE in the white house???

Given the gravity of what is going on the world today, this may seem like a silly and frivolous thought on my part. Just vote for the best candidate, and the hell with everything else. That’s easy to say, but hard to do when you’ve dreamed your entire life of seeing your gender as the leader of the free world.

I not so secretly hope Senator Obama loses the nomination, Senator Clinton wins, and then I can feel as though I supported my beliefs and realized a dream through Hillary.

What a terrible thought, but I am trying to be brutally honest.

Maybe I should just get on the Edwards bandwagon and pretend I’m not affected by dreams of a first African-American or female President. Maybe I should just, once again, find a nice, white, safe male to support.

Hrumph.

No. No. I think my best course of action is Clinton/Obama ’08.

A girl can dream, can’t she???

Crossposted at the Huffington Post

Filed Under: Feeling YaYa, Houseboy, Stepford Crazies

The Twat Isle (of Eden)

February 20, 2007 by Queen of Spain 20 Comments

I hate going to the feminine needs aisle anywhere.

I’m not embarrassed. I’m not shy. I just hate when that ONE old man in the store ends up looking for Old Spice in that aisle on accident while you painstakingly decide between the supersuper have a happy period Kotex or the heavy/super Always max.

Sigh.

So why all the twat talk? Let’s just say I had to be taken to the doctor by my husband this morning due to…um…complications from the catheter during my surgery.

I swear I’m the only one in the world with an infection in her pee hole from having her thyroid removed. $10 to anyone who can find me someone else.

Anyway, it was doctor day because we then took both kids and they have the ear infection/sinus infection winter blahs with an added bonus of bronchitis for my little princess peanut.

Armed with cranberry pills and orange flavored amoxicillin, I’m ready to announce that Karen over at Swank has been kind enough to, once again, indulge me in a redesign which you, my faithful reader, will get to see very soon.

It’s beeeeeeeeeauuuuuuuuuuuuuutiful, if I do say so myself. The great and powerful Kaiser finally bestowed upon me his time and artistry and whipped up a lil something. Of course he made Sarah’s header eons ago. But I’m not keeping track. Really, I’m not.

The design will also include some very exciting Second Life information about my money making fun in the virtual world. Virtual world, real MONEY.

My business partner and I have been buying and selling virtual real estate and making some bank. Let’s just say our first deal TRIPLED in profit. He’s boy wonder and I’m the eye candy. Because in Second Life I totally get to be eye candy.

The really fun part is I plan on bringing you guys along for the ride. I’m counting on you. The Queen has a virtual castle in which everyone is welcome to talk, surf, ride jetskis, pet the monkeys (I’m not kidding) and meet each other in real time. For real talks. Having real fun. Ask Gidge….she’s living in my castle and having a blast.

You can advertise your blog at my pad. You can network with the likes of Arianna Huffington and Speaker Nancy Pelosi. Or you can go have cybersex with my neighbor. You can even buy land next door and set up your own place and we can all live in one, big, happy, Mommyblogging commune.

We’ve named the island the Isle of Eden, and in honor of my blogging friends I commissioned an AMAZING piece of artwork (because I can do that in second life…) that an amazing female artist painted to represent YOU. YOU my blogging friends. The artist has been reading our blogs (as part of her research) and she made this piece to be the focal point of our virtual girls night out space.

It brings tears to my eyes.

So grab some cranberry juice (just in case) and join me, won’t you? I’ll show you the piece and then we’ll go to an all male review.

Filed Under: Feeling YaYa, Holding Court, Kaiser, Queen Tureaud

Sigh

February 16, 2007 by Queen of Spain 14 Comments

It’s been a long few days around here. The kids are sick, I’m still iffy…and Nana’s novelty on the children has worn off.

Reinforcements arrive in the form of my mother-in-law today, and I think it will be a welcome change. As the 4-year old has decided he will no longer listen to anyone or do anything anyone wants.

It’s making me a bit…well, low. I keep immersing myself in Second Life business and shutting out the world.

Not healthy, I know. But the incision hurts, the kids are sick and acting like beasts, and my mother is OVER helping everyone. She’s exhausted. Add to that a husband with a horrendous commute, and we’re just a barrel of laughs over here.

Did I mention I’m out of Vicodin?

Sigh.

Let’s look at cute pictures of the kids, because I need to remember they are not small monsters out to destroy my soul.

Filed Under: kill me now

When CoSleeping Ends (Part II)

February 13, 2007 by Queen of Spain 18 Comments

Put on PJ’s. Brush teeth. Read stories. Get tucked in. Go to sleep.

It’s that FUCKING SIMPLE.

My kids don’t do that. They have NEVER done that. Well, expect for the past three nights.

Cue the choir of angles.

Having been breastfed to bed, co-sleeping babies, our bedtimes habits are a bit…umm, lax. Throw in the usual snots and sniffles and pukes and we had a routine of children either having been breastfed, laid with, or held to sleep.

We slowly made the transition from our bed to their beds with protests. Throw in some parental laziness and bam…four people in our king.

Now that I’m on the mend and the kids had a few night of Mommy gone at the hospital, we’ve decided to re-impliment the “kids go to bed in their own beds” rule. I automatically assumed this would be a total failure. Which is fine. I’m tired. I don’t have the energy.

Turns out we’re on night #3, as I type this…with kids asleep in their own beds. I nearly gave in to the Count because he has a bad cough and runny nose. But I held firm. KNOWING this could go on and on and on until they go off to college.

People TELL me co-sleeping kids eventually leave your bed, but really you don’t believe it. You just assume they will come and go and come and come and come and come and come. And just stay. Forever. Or until they decide to marry or something.

I am still emotional over weaning Princess Peanut. So this whole not sleeping with a kid-leg in my ribs is a little hard for me. I keep telling myself it’s fine. I keep telling myself not to get all crazy/protective/hover mommy.

But none of that really goes away until mindblowing sex, IN MY OWN BED, with the Kaiser.

Emotional crisis over. Cue the choir of angles again.

Filed Under: Count Waffles, Kaiser, Princess Peanut, Royal Sexlife

Build A Bastard

February 11, 2007 by Queen of Spain 12 Comments

Have I mentioned lately how amazing my husband is? Well, in case I haven’t…let me just say the man is a wonder.

Since my surgery he’s been SUPERwonder Dad. From doing everything around the house to taking the kids everywhere from hair cuts to birthday parties.

Which leads me to today…and the Build A Bear Birthday Blowout.

I’m normally not an evil bitch, but every time my husband comes home from an outing with the children, I get all frazzled because they have such a good time with no problems.

What do you mean Count Waffles didn’t have a melt down in the produce section?

Really, Princess Peanut didn’t throw the red ball at you because she wanted the blue ball?

It drives me insane. They always seem to be bizzaro kids for him.

Except for today. When the Build A Bear Birthday Blowout had my sweet Kaiser twitching when they walked in the door. It wasn’t so much that the kids were bad, it was just one of those parenting situations where you wish you had never left the house.

The Build A Bear store was the size of a small bathroom stall. It was the Sunday before Valentine’s Day. One of our kids could care less he was there, and the other had no clue what she was supposed to be doing. Cue Chaos.

My defeated and disheveled husband arrived home with two large bear boxes and 40 more gray hairs. He sat in front of me and talked quickly about the too small store and the throngs of people and the clothing and the kids and the holding of the bears and the holding of the kids and the picking out of the outfits for the bears and how the Princess wouldn’t allow the Bear to be dressed and the Count wouldn’t pick a name and he couldn’t carry the boxes and the bears had to be out of the boxes to carry home but the kids wouldn’t carry them, they just insisted they were not boxed.

This went on. And on. And on. He talked and talked and shook his head and put his hands in the air.

It’s not that I was happy, per say. Just relieved it finally had happened to him. Now we can really share some war stories.

Filed Under: Kaiser, Royal Family Outing, Uncategorized

Women Bloggers ROCK

February 9, 2007 by Queen of Spain 15 Comments

As many of you know I’ve been recovering from major surgery and am full of piss and vinegar (as my mother would say) over a million things, none of them important.

I’m irked no one can hear from the kitchen because my voice is so weak.

I’m irked there has been limited chocolate available to me.

I’m irked Brett Favre isn’t retiring.

I’m irked when anything, even my shirt, grazes my neck bandage.

But all of that changed and my mood went from hating the world to loving the world with the postman. Or lady. Or postal person. Who knew mail could change your life?
People I have never met have taken time out of their lives and baked me cookies.They were packed in a box that arrived split with the contents mushed. But Gidge made one hell of an effort to get the blue, churched shaped cookies to my door. Yummy broken melted cookie goodness.

They felt my chocolate pain and sent the most wonderful box of amazing chocolates ever assembled. EVER. (this was added tonight, as they just arrived! Those Ninja Poodles are so dead on when it comes to getting my taste right ;))
They’ve felt my screaming pain and sent me a whistle.Which is now shrieking it’s whistling goodness across the house. I am the Queen Referee and everyone is in the penalty box.

They’ve sought me out to talk about my missing thyroid, answered my insane questions about sleeping with an incision, and exercised patience as I’ve felt less than the writer I try to be.

Thank you. All of you. I love you guys. And that’s not just the pain killers talking.

Filed Under: Feeling YaYa, Stepford Crazies

Oh, Anna Nicole

February 8, 2007 by Queen of Spain 18 Comments

I guess we all saw this coming.

Poor girl never got her act together. I have no idea why, but I always liked her.

I realize that’s ridiculous. She was not the smartest. She used sex to get ahead. But it was all she had. Literally. I always gave her a pass.

Britney never will get a pass from me, but Anna Nicole always did.

I’m an enigima enigma.
I think I always thought of her as the really stupid, “bad” version of me. Life out of control. Drugs everywhere. Boobs all over the place.

Rest in peace Anna Nicole.

Filed Under: Feeling YaYa