local sightings

as i've told you before, milton is a small town.  a quaint town.  a bit of a redneck place.  with a mix of military.  and normal people.  but what's normal, anyways?  am i normal?  should i point at others and call them weird or unusual?  do i have that right, when my own family is a bunch of wack-jobs?  well, i'm doing it.  because i can.  and because i'm sitting at a computer and nobody can hit me or throw a dirty look my way.

man, i'm hungry.

okay, here it is... things that i have seen in milton this week:

1. a girl sitting topless at the corner gas station.  just sitting there.  if i had to speculate, i'd say she was waiting on her ride and she got hot.  really really hot.  either that or she spilled the red icee all over herself and she didn't want people to make fun of the stain on her shirt.  i mean, what would they think?  (coincidentally, this is the same gas station where a 30-something girl was standing at the corner of the parking lot, in her bra, chain smoking cigarettes.  and no, it wasn't me).  my mother-in-law is in town this week, and i really want to show her a good time.  i think i'll take my shirt off and see what we come up with.  no?
2. an older lady walking down highway 90.  wearing a long broom skirt.  and a button up white shirt with a big frilly collar.  and a top hat.  a black top hat.  rock it.
3. a street sign next to mediacom (our main cable and internet provider) that said "medicom way".  nixing the spell check on street signs is common mistake.  and if i misspell something here, bite me.  
4. the gas station across the street from mediacom is called "parade". the sign with gas prices reads "parade". the sign on one side of the roof reads "parade". the sign on the opposite side of the roof reads "para". sometimes you just run out of letters.  and motivation.  and spell check.
5. a man with a ponytail riding his bicycle in front of big lots wearing a cape.  at first glance i might not have assumed it was a cape.  but i've seen him twice.  it's a cape.  a long blue cape.  

and it's only tuesday.

sorry i don't have any pictures to post.  snapping a shot seems mean.  this way they're all in my head and you get the visual.  that leaves everyone with some dignity.  well, i don't really have any dignity, but maybe you do.  so good for you.  you're better than me.  

have a happy tuesday night.  

- dimply stacy

a french tool

i love this man.  a lot.

and lately, even more.

he's been extra sweet to all of us.  and he's been buying me things.  and i'm really materialistic, so that makes me happy.

and he's been sentimental.  and just awesome.

tonight we were watching a movie together after the kids went to bed.  weird science, a classic.  anything with anthony michael hall is a classic in my book.

we ate dinner by ourselves.  poured a glass of wine.  it was neat.

then he called me a fat butt.  and i ate a cookie.  that'll show him.

and a little while later, and i'm sure i didn't provoke any of this by tucking my chin in as far as i could and laughing a sexy beast-like laugh, the following took place:

"ah, i'm going to go in the other room and call some girls."


"you don't have any girls' numbers."


"yes i do.  i have a lot of them."


"none that would want to talk to you, dear."


"in milton?  i have a ton of girls from milton."


"where did you meet them?


"i haven't yet.  but if you would go away i could."


"are they coming to our house?"


"yep.  and i'm gonna french them."


so, pardon me if i cut this short.  but the aviator has hot plans to french some girls that he hasn't yet met in my house.

i mean, does anyone use the word "french" anymore?

what a tool.

and a grown up.

good night.

- dimply stacy

tootin' a fist pump

 yesterday big c went to the hospital.  it was her first surgery.  rookie.

we went to the naval hospital, which is as horrible as you've heard.  only not.  because it was fabulous.

she had a complete T & A removal.

tonsils and adenoids.  keep your head out of the gutter, people.

we had to be at the hospital at 5:45 a.m.  i had to wake her up at 4:30.  it was dark and she was tired, yet she talked all the way there.  all. the. way.  it's about a 45 minute drive, and it gave me time to reflect on how happy i would be to have a few days of silence.  a few days to take care of my helpless child who needed me so much.  a few days of silence.  oh wait, did i already say that?

and big c wasn't really nervous.

she was goofing off before they brought in her lovely size 2T gown.  it was either a 2T or an adult small.  either way, she looked stunning.

she modeled the latest t-rex fashion.  and have i mentioned before that she is NOT a dancer?  yep. confirmed.

big c expressed her concerns about having the IV put in her arm.  she wasn't worried about the actual procedure... just the IV.  not the sore throat that would ensue the following week.... just the IV. this is where i tell her to suck it up and get over it.  we've all had an IV.  little c had to have one when he spent a week in the hospital last january.  and he had a tonsilectomy without any drugs. an at-home version.  but that's a story for another day.

the doctor said they could give her something to "take the edge off".  apparently it's pretty easy to score drugs when you're a cute 8 year old.  i think i've missed my time.

and they totally spoiled her.  they put an ID bracelet on her bear.  the bear she whips out when something is going to be emotional.  the bear i made for her when she was 2.  the bear that says "i love you" in my voice.  she's too old for THAT bear, unless she's hurt or sad about something.

then they slapped her on the gurney, wheeled her down to the OR, and spoiled her a little bit more.  what happened to tough love?  and no, i wasn't jealous.  people spoil me all the time.  i mean, i've got people.

okay, so i don't really have people, but that's because i'm tough and i don't need any.

but this OR nurse.  she was a sucker.  she walked in and put the cute little blue cap on big c.  and big c said "i wish i had one like yours.  it's so cute."  and wa-la.  the nurse came back in 10 seconds with one of her personal caps to put on my precious child.

here's where she's gotten her way.  again. as always.  best. day. ever.

nope.  this is post-surgery.  see the smile on her face?  no?  it was gone.  but her sense of humor was kicked up a notch.  and not on purpose.  when she was wheeled into recovery after the painful 20 minute procedure, she was babbling on.

"momma, that mask didn't do anything to me"


"yes it did, baby.  that was laughing gas.  it puts you to sleep so they can do the surgery."


"nuh uh, momma.  nothing came out of it"


"well, did you go to sleep?  or were you awake the whole time?"


"no, i just got so bored in there from waiting.  and i didn't have anything else to do.  so i just went to sleep."


"is that right?  you were bored?"


"momma?  when are they gonna take my tonsils out?  because momma... my throat hurts right now."


"they already took them out, sweetie.  they did it when you were sleeping."


(cue the tears)

"i thought they were gonna put me to sleep.  now my throat hurts."



then they let me get in the bed with her and they doped her up.

on a side note: see that dent in her forehead?  i did that to her when she was 1.  and 2.  well, i didn't really DO that to her, but my poor parenting allowed this to happen.  she was the purple forehead baby for months and months.  oh, come on, like your kid has never fallen repeatedly, injuring the same thing over and over and over.  for my kid, it was her forehead.  the end result was this dent that shows up when she cries or makes a pouty face of any sort.  you are welcome, kiddo!

after 2 hours, i went to the navy exchange on the 2nd floor.  i had already cleaned up 2 buckets of puke, so i thought i would treat myself.  i came back with this puppy.  totally changed everything.

and 1 hour later, she was dressed and smiling for the camera.

and smiling for the camera.  oh, sorry.  you didn't want to see that, did you?

then i told her to get up and get ready to leave and she tooted.  then she got up to find her shoes and she tooted.  then she started laughing at her toots and she tooted again.  and again.  and then the room smelled so bad.  but she said we could just blame it on the 11 year old girl next to her, whose mom preaches the paranormal and updates her facebook 4 times while in recovery.  and whose mom says things like "well at least your not pregnant right now" in front of the anesthesiologist.  and the anesthesiologist throws me a look just for some reassurance that this is not an okay topic for young girls.  in the hospital.  and gives me the head nod when he realizes we're on the same page.  besides, they would probably think she tooted on her way out anyways.

then she smiles and looks prettier than ever.  4 hours after surgery.

and fist pumps on her way out because she gets to ride in a wheelchair.

and i can totally put her in a wheelchair permanently if that'll make her happy.  that's what a good mom would do.  and i'm a good mom.

the end.

-dimply stacy

scams club

today i went to sam's. and i went hungry.

sam's on a normal day is bad news bears for me. i have never, i repeat "NEVER" walked out of that store without spending $200.  i almost did it once, a couple of months ago, but had to pay $40 to renew my membership at checkout, and ended up spending $219.  so close.

i left the house with good intentions.  i would run in and get fruit, broccoli, and ice cream for big c.  she's having her tonsils out tomorrow.  that's me being a good mom.

my good intentions were swallowed with my first gulp of sweet tea from the concession stand. "just get a drink, stacy.  that doesn't make you a bad person.  just a drink.  you can sip it while you shop.  don't be the fat girl. don't get the hot dog combo.  or the churro.  or the pretzel.  yes, i know the aviator won't know that i've eaten those things, but do it for yourself.  just get the drink."  i feel like this went on in my head for like an hour, but it was really just for about 20 seconds while the lady in front of me ordered a hot dog combo with a pretzel.  damn her.  not me, though. i just got a drink. proud of me?  i figured that would curb my hunger.  while i shopped in the world's largest  buffet of crap.  and who can shop at sam's without going up and down every aisle?  and if you say "oh, i totally just run in and out. i'm never tempted by the free samples.  or the bakery. or the life size dracula at the entrance." you're a liar.

today i discovered that i needed several more things than what was on my list.  for instance,  i had to have dog biscuits.  large ones.  for 50-100 pound dogs.  our dog, axel, is around 35 lbs.  i got him a 14 lb box, because at $9.98, it's a GREAT DEAL!  insert finger pointing at me.  sucker.

i managed to fill a basket with the "essentials", including this 900 lb tub of cheese balls.  seriously?  why was this a good idea?  oh, i know.  they are for the kids.  not me.  that's right.

and these?  these almost didn't make it.  i was almost a strong person.  no more junk starting today.  but then....

i felt like they were reaching out like a sad little kid who never gets any love and affection.  begging me to take him home with me.  puncturing my soul.  filling my veins with just one. more. fix.

they rode in the front seat next to me because i didn't want them to melt. what?  it's so hot in the back of the car. and i'm pretty sure i can just scratch out that 24 and put 20 on the quantity and the aviator will never know anything's missing.  including the pounds around my booty.

and he probably won't mind the extra weight anyways.  i only spent $135.  and that's like a record.

and if he gets mad, i'll just tell him that next time he can go by himself and do the grocery shopping.

and he can make the meals.

and he can clean the house.

and he can get the kids ready for school.

and he can feed the dog.

or i'll just tell him i fell down in the parking lot and everyone laughed at me.

and i'll cry.

- dimply stacy

potty mouth

here's what just happened at our house....

aviator: "big c, did you use my bathroom last?"

big c: "no"

aviator: "so, you didn't forget to flush the toilet, while also forgetting to change the roll?"

big c: "no"

me: "was it kitty poo in there?"

aviator: "not unless somebody wiped the kitty."

little c: "was there a chicken in there?"

end of conversation.

good night.

- dimply stacy

missing children

we just finished a late dinner because tuesday is soccer skills night.  and the fields aren't close.  and the coaches aren't prompt.  and this information has very little to do with the rest of the story.

the kidiots were eating their dessert comprised of m&m's, mike & ikes, junior mints and gummy worms.  say something.

at least they had something green.

the aviator yells with excitement from the living room that "another amber alert worked!"

see...
http://abcnews.go.com/US/amber-alert-sharp-eyed-citizen-save-missing-girl/story?id=11807128

 the following is the conversation that ensued with big c:

"sky was born?"

"no, an amber alert worked. and star was born yesterday."  (and fyi, star is the baby of our friend, amber)

"i thought it was sky?"

"no, it's star.  but close."

"what's an amber alert?"

"it's an emergency signal that goes out on radios and television stations to notify everyone of a kidnapping or a missing child so that they are aware and know the details to be on the lookout for that kid.  it was named after a little girl named amber, who was kidnapped."

"what?"

"it's how they search for missing kids."

"soooo, they found amber?"

"no, they found a kid with the amber alert."

"well, where's amber?"

"in the hospital.  she had star yesterday."

"i thought it was sky."

"no"

"what?"


time for bed.

- dimply stacy

balls and worms. and legs.

it was a hectic weekend.  an emotional weekend. a weekend that i wish we could erase from the books.  bad things, man.  bad things. 

and then there was this....

situation #1: 

little c was playing with his ginormous dinosaur in the living room. 

the result:

little c: "mooooooommmmm!  axel has my balls in his mouth."

you can imagine how that sounded from the kitchen.

um, ew.  please don't look at all the cat hair on that rug.  

situation #2:

driving in the car to pick up big c. 

little c: "daddy, do you want to see my worm?"

oh, come on.  what did you think he was talking about?  

then this....

little c got into trouble for yelling too loudly or jumping to high or something equally as not as big of a deal to me.  it was the aviator's situation.  he went to time out.  little c did.  his fit continued in time out.  the aviator asked him what he wanted to lose for his punishment.  typically it's dessert.  little c's choice: his leg.  

well played, little man.

you rocked the day.

thanks for forcing the smiles on our faces.  

- dimply stacy