Did this commission for a lovely couple who love to boat and love

their dogs, recent and departed.

I had done one similar to this for a client and got a request for another. This family that bought it, the father has one of my pieces tattooed on his side. Some days its hard for me to believe that people

like my work that much.

To see more work : http://www.stagiworks.etsy.com

Some recent ones....

My buddy Margaret has been writing some strangely cool things that have inspired me to 

do equally twisted drawings...

I just had an idea one day and jotted this down.

Saw my hubby and my youngest 'sharing' a lollipop and this is where my 

imagination took it. 

Thanks for looking everyone! 

Take a little Trip....

Happy Friday!!!!
It was a slow roll out of bed this morning, my kids as well. Surly toddler,  angsty teens and a crabby tweens - it was not pretty. But the show must go on! I've got a LOT on the brain. My life has been a little topsy turvy lately, things have finally calmed down - I'm hoping to pop out more work soon....this one I love. I'm squirreling it away in my office so I can look at it until it finds a home. Hats and purses are my fav... and we can't forget the little creepy little thing with a lollipop.
I look forward to working this weekend - want to take a peek in my head?

1. My Odd Family for the Odditorium in Detriot submission. A three-legged baby isn't too weird is it?

2.  A poker picture...my hubby suggested knives and mustaches.

3. More straightjackets! I can't get enough of buttons and straightjackets.

4. My fascination with all things vintage 20's and 30's.

5. Books, books, books....dare I say more?

If you'd like to see more of Creepymama's artwork, please visit her and her sister, Olivia the Dollmaker at :

StagiWorks

http://www.stagiworks.etsy.com

Ah, it's that time of year when I get to make up silly things for the holidays and scribble my insane thoughts for you to enjoy sending to your loved ones. Between bouts of the baby's icky illness and my real life, this is one of the cards I did for the holidays. I have more coming up, but for whatever reason, my brain was stuck on Christmas first - so I did those. I fixed up a couple of Halloween cards, which my sister and I will put on our site soon.
I feel like I've been battling the ideas in my head..I've been working on a story I hope you will enjoy, I am taking my time to make sure I do it right. It just takes so long...but it will be worth it! However, nefarious little pictures pop up in the middle of my doing this and I end up doing three pictures at one time. Someone brought up an idea - she wants to order a series of my reprints, about 16 of them in postcard size. Would you guys order something like this?

If you'd like to see more of Creepymama's artwork, please visit her and her sister, Olivia the Dollmaker at :
StagiWorks

Love - Boy Style

Love, the way  boys show it -is usually in the form of headlocks, farting on each other or running and giving their mother a random hug. Beefy, our two year old, wakes up before his brothers.
Me: "Let's wake up the boys, go get 'em!"
Beefy: "Yesh..."
He toddles into Drama's room and delivers an eye poke.
Drama: "MO-OM! He poke -"
Me: "It's still there. Can it. Don't forget to brush your teeth."
Beefy is delighted with his mission, heads to Pottymouth's room. "JAAAAAAA!!!" and crawls up on the bed, all fat baby arms and with the gentleness of a herd of wild buffalo, hugs Pottymouth.
Pottymouth:  "Hey, baby..did you sleep good? Oh, hey Mom. Check out this shi-"
Me:  "Not now, time to get up."
Beefy then heads to Type A's room - barrels in, smacks him on the ass and runs. It must be little brother instinct or something to hit big brother..
Type-A:  "AH!!! MOM!"
Me: "Good morning! Aren't little brothers great?"
Type-A: "Ha.Ha. Mom. Is there coffee?"


If you'd like to see more of Creepymama's artwork, please visit her and her sister, Olivia the Dollmaker at :
StagiWorks

Strange wonderful things...

I'm experiencing strange wonderful things lately with artwork and as my sister says, the universe is telling us something. We've gone to the Farmer's Markets in the past couple of weeks and I hear this at least 5 or 6 times every single time:

"You should write a children's book."

Gee, why didn't I think of that? I just shake my head and keep plugging away. I've been trying to put down everything humanely possible on paper and get it out there for you all to look at. However, some strange little turns and the help of my buddy Margaret, I'm going to be teasing you with book glimpses on our little adventure.
What I find encouraging and thank all of you for doing it (artists are sensitive little souls) is all the comments and the smiles I see from the kids at the markets. Keep it up - encourage your kids to be creative - draw, write, sew, create, create, create!

If you'd like to see more of Creepymama's artwork, please visit her and her sister, Olivia the Dollmaker at :

StagiWorks

For different reasons....

Carrie Clickard

Gris Grimly

Gary A. Lippincott

Eric Orchard

Huge Spears

I love all these artist for different reasons..here's your shout out!

Wanted to share...

I saw this picture and loved her green coat. Actually, I liked the whole color scheme..just had to 

creep it up! Let me know what you guys think, it was something a little new for me. Have a wonderful day! 

If you'd like to see more of Creepymama's artwork, please visit her and her sister, Olivia the Dollmaker at :

StagiWorks

Double life: Secret Agent Artist....

I slither out of bed, before my two year old minion wakes so I can creep to my desk and draw the things I dream of. My secret lair is littered with notes and sketches of my evildoings. How would a hairy ghouly feel? Wiry? Soft? These things flit through my head when I suddenly see a smelly teenager emerge from his room. Quick! Run! Before he asks for a ride somewhere! I am a secret agent of the arts! Not a chauffeur!
I run to my room and get ready (and get the youngest minion ready) to go to my undercover job. As I travel to work, trees and leaves become snarling creatures to avoid, tractors are slow moving dinosaurs as my two-year old screams "BUS!!!CRACKTOR!" He's still working on the 't's. At work, my boss has steam coming out of her ears, my coworkers are in various states of cartoonish glee as my creativity bounds around the inside of my skull. Green skin, fanged teeth and spiders galore! After work and after the evil minions have been feed, I can sit and give in to what the secret agent artist has learned that day...scribbles to be scribbled, the dead to be painted, leading my horrors to come to life.

If you'd like to see more of Creepymama's artwork, please visit her and her sister, Olivia the Dollmaker at :

StagiWorks

What the blog???

Geez, so many people get offended when you drop the f-bomb a few times in a blog. But isn't a blog by definition, an online journal and not just the money-making, job getting, freebie giving away thing it's become now? I am not the best writer, I know that for a fact. But I like to make people laugh and I was feeling a little anti-appliance and wrote the blog. I was trying to turn lemons into a lemonade martini. Because that's the way I was feeling. I won't apologize for it.
And like anything else, if you don't like what's on tv, radio, etc - don't watch, listen or read it. Too fucking bad if you don't like it. What I found really interesting was that my stats went WAY up on that blog. It almost took away the sting of what those two bone-heads wrote in to me. I'm not going to say or quote those two because I'm not going to give them an audience here. However, I feel I should point a few things just so we are clear -

1. Just because I use the word, 'fuck' or 'goddamn' doesn't make me an idiot or a writer who can't write. Never said I was a good/great writer. This is an online journal and I'm using it so you get to know me and my art. The most I hope for is that I spell shit correctly.

2. I like to make it a little interesting. I get tired of those boring blogs that are sanitized for human consumption. Who the hell cares?

3. I used the PMS angle because I am a woman and this is funny to me. If we can get something funny out of our periods besides cramps and tampons, I'm all for it. It's not vulgar (if it is to you, please read line 6)The next time you have a uterus, gentlemen, feel free to comment.


If you'd like to see more of Creepymama's artwork, please visit her and her sister, Olivia the Dollmaker at :
StagiWorks

Sexy Beast

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. If not, have more beer. Or some such bullshit my mother told me.

This week has been at a loss with all my appliances issues - I'm finally going to get chance to start all this tonight..I'll be working these next two weeks on the idea of beauty and how I can twist it to fit my creepy little paintings. I've been working on this one painting of mine - doing the research and this little lady popped in my head. She's not the main focus by any means, but it got me thinking of all the things we women do to be beautiful. 

Now, do witches add warts? Do Ogresses apply Eau De Stink? Do Vampires get their teeth sharpened?  

Do you go in to get your creepy weave tangled?  If you'd like to see more of Creepymama's artwork, please visit her and her sister, Olivia the Dollmaker at :

StagiWorks

Where is the goddamn Merlot?

I should have known something was up. My hairdryer blew out three weeks ago. Little did I know the heinous fuckery the universe had in store for me. My thoughtful husband then replaced it two weeks later. In the mean time, my friend Jodie, in all her coiffed-ness, said, "You're killing me." 
But I thought, eh, no big deal, it was just the hairdryer.
Oh, no, it wasn't just the hairdryer. All my appliances began to hate me. It was like they all decided to have a PMS day. The day I started using my new hair dryer, the garbage disposal took a turn for the worse. It started leaking and I swear I head it cry, "OMG! You expect me to crush this!! After all those things I've done for you, the leftover salad dregs, no, this is NOT HAPPENING!"
I got it Midol and a glass of Merlot.
"NO! I WILL NOT BE BOUGHT OFF! YOU LET THAT LITTLE CHEAP HARLOT DRY YOUR HAIR! WHY NOT ME? WHY???"
I was a little worried. But I'm from a family of do it yourselfers (mostly in the form of duct tape and hot glue) and I thought. 'Yeah, I can handle that.' I armed myself with my tools and the internet, intent on fixing our little problem. Two hours later, we still couldn't get the damn thing off the sink. I disabled the right side of the sink to the kids and decided to tackle it later. Turned out to be one week later, but I finally got to tackle it on Saturday morning, I started my laundry first and BOOM! The washer has a bitch fit. "FUCK YOU! BLANKETS? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!?!?! I'M BLOATED AND FAT AND YOU GIVE ME FUCKING BLANKETS! WHERE IS THE GODDAMN MERLOT?"
Water is all over. Three hours and three floods later, I realize the moisture sensor is bad. Okay, we can replace that. Easy! Oh yeah, maybe I can pick up the part tomorrow in San Jose when I go see my parents and drop off two of my four children to hang for a couple of days. They are an hour and half away, just enough distance and time for me to miss them without feeling guilty.
When I get  up the following morning, I discover my Tia Maria has arrived and the athlete's foot I'm fighting (thanks kids! ah, the joys of parenthood) is almost unbearable. As I'm driving, guess what? The car is in on it too! "BITCH, YOU THINK I'M JUST GONNA LET YOU DRIVE ME ALL OVER? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU ARE DOING TO MY TREADS? I JUST GOT THESE BITCHES AND YOU'RE GIVING ME HOOKER HOOVES! HELL NO! GET ME A CHOCOLATE BAR NOW!"
By the time I chug to my parents' house, the kids are ready to flee the scene before some bad shit goes down. Except for Pottymouth, he's probably got a video camera and can't wait to post Mommy's meltdown on YouTube.
My mother took one look at me, saw the steam from my ears and I blurt out everything to her and she says, "We can fix that. No sweat. I think I have an extra garbage disposal. Are you going to the doctor? You should go for the foot thing."
Yeah, my parents are those parents. They are not hoarders exactly, more like an orphanage for Home Depot. Not in a bad way, they don't keep everything, some appliances go to good homes and a few are adopted by Brangelina (it must be genetic, I have an extra dryer in my garage).
My dad pops in and say, "No, I think I have a new garbage disposal still in the box. What foot thing?"
They even have an extra washer. Not that I need one and I decline, but I'm more concerned about my bitch tripping car. By the end of the day, my car is fixed, I'm driving home with two garbage disposals and some steaks, because I think, according to my dad, meat will also fix everything. My father gives me a hug and I'm grateful that he thinks meat will fix everything - I really didn't want to cook dinner.

If you'd like to see more of Creepymama's artwork, please visit her and her sister, Olivia the Dollmaker at :
StagiWorks

Where's the potty?!?

The time-honored rite of parenthood know as potty-training is upon us! I am heading towards potty-training my last child, it's been years, but teaching a little human how to use the facilities is no small feat. Beefy hasn't been too interested in going himself, but he seems to be investigating how my husband pees, how I pee, how his brothers pee, how to flush the toilet and even better, what can I flush down the toilet? He's even telling us when he's done the dirty deed, "POOP!!!!!" 

But has no interest in actually sitting on the can, that might take some time out from stealing crayons from Marc's craft desk. However, my sister is starting to teach my nephew the glories of the john and I just giggle, because this is her first round. I've been through three kids, the first is always the hardest. My oldest took awhile, but my second found the pee-glee of pissing on the tree in the backyard. It wasn't until I found a massive poop in the backyard (we had no dog) that I had to reign him in and explain the poop rules. The following is the text messages we've been having about it:

Violet: Potty training: 2 accidents so far, I think by the end of this the whole house will smell like pee.

Me: Rocky and E-man can compete to mark territory.

Violet: HAHAHA

Violet: Potty Training lesson I learned today: Take to potty right after dinner. Big poop and pee in his pants. I feel like a dummy for not thinking of this.

Me: Rookie! hahahahaa

Violet: LOL! I just spent 5 minutes pouring water on his wiener to get him to pee in the toilet. This is my life. 

Me: Please lock this message so u can remember it fondly. 

Violet: I will 

Me: The one thing I hated was when you had to cut them off of juice by a certain time of night. They always acted like they just got back from the Sahara.

Violet: LMAO!!! 

Me: Or the innocent face when you ask them, and they clearly smell like shit, "Did you wipe?" 

Not me!

The Not Me's

Beware! Be on the look out for these evil little creatures!  They are sneaky, devious and very destructive. Kill immediately upon discovery.

Signs you have the Not Me's:

They leave underwear on the floor, socks stuck in the vacuum cleaner, love to blow things up in the microwave, jelly & crumbs on every kitchen counter, leave school bags by the front door, track dirt in, stuff soggy food in small appliances, the cat is painted and glittered on a seasonal basis. I've asked my children repeatedly about these things and apparently, they can't see them either. If you'd like to see more of my artwork, please visit StagiWorks.

All pooped out....

Isn't she funny? I'd like to think when I'm this old and crochety, I'll still be stylin' with a cool purse. 

Hootenanny

It's funny how one word will draw itself in my head.....you also see it at StagiWorks

Oh Nurse! What the -

My sister Violet inspired this piece, it's one of favorites. I always pictured the extreme glee she must take in giving obnoxious children shots. Blithely ignorant of her blood-spattered smock, she gives them leeches or vile-smelling brew made with some rodent part as a cure for something as minor as a splinter.

I know for a fact her job is not this exciting, but I like to use my imagination.

Come see this work and others at our shop: StagiWorks

Wedded Bliss

I was standing there in the little chapel, it was burning hot, my sunburn was killing me, the kids were quiet and my poor fiancé is there next to me and we're trying hard not to laugh - the ministers' nose had a booger flying in and out as he spoke. My poor fiancé was severely hung over, thanks to his friends, Gerry, Mo and Martin (love you fuckers!), samsonites hanging from under his eyes. I was thinking, "Holy shit he's actually doing it! He picked me!"
We went with a Hawaiian shirt theme because Ronnie wanted to get married in shorts.
His mother cried the whole time.
Then we were married, boogers and all.
The rest of the weekend went great, then the day we left, Ronnie was off with his buddies, I was with my evil little fiends. We were walking along the main drag, I stopped to look at a menu in front of some grand hotel that had a huge rock feature in the front. A woman walking behind me said, "What's that little boy doing?"
Oh shit.
I look and Marc (six at the time) was standing on the top of the rock feature, pants down, facing traffic, pissing on the water. More than a few people were giggling. I hauled him off there and explained the rules of urinating outside.
Our house may never be clean, the laundry never done and there's always some crazy boy funk. Glad you love it honey! Happy 4th anniversary honey!

Blow it out your spot

Spent a wonderful weekend with my kids, my mother as the husband went galavanting around with 

his man-friends in Vegas. I was so exhausted. My mom is hilarious and up for almost anything. I can only hope to be that fun when I get older. 

Of course there is some residual tiredness from dealing with the fiends for four days by myself. I woke up today just a little cranky and some teenager decided to give me attitude this morning. 

The older I get, the more I don't give a damn. I don't care that you didn't have clean clothes to wear, you are going to school! You do your own laundry for crying out loud! 

What? You want five bucks to go hang with your friends? Does it say ATM on my forehead?

Dinner? Are you serious?! 

Please lord, bless me with the patience to survive the teens!!! 

A couple of more twisted nursery rhymes....

Goldilocks and the Three Hairs

She should have chosen truth,

instead of dare.

Now all she has left

is three hairs.

Lesson: Don't play with matches.

Mary had a little Sam

Only his face would show

Everywhere Mary went,

her twin was sure to go.

This one I couldn't get the image out of my head. I'm glad I did. Now you can have it.

King of Changovia

My husband thinks he's the king. He refers to our house as Changovia (his nickname is Chango) and I am his queen. The three older boys are the Jesters and the Prince of Changovia is two. The kingdom was quiet and somewhat serene, as much as it could be with so many jesters and their cohorts trampling through the castle, when the universe came along and said,
 "Fuck it, you're IT!"
Several things are happening at a rapid pace - the prince is starting to realize his evil toddler power with the word "MINE!" It he can reach it, grab it, eat it or break it, it's his!!!!
MWUAHAHAHAA....
The head jester, Type A is worried about graduating 8th grade - "OMG Mom, I have all A's and one D!!! Will they let me graduate?"
I roll my royal eyes. "Don't sweat it. You're fine."
My dainty 8 year old jester is just concerned about what outfit he will wear for the day and who gives a damn about division? "Does this make me look fat?"
"No, it's fine." His day-glow yellow shoes make me cringe, but he loves them.
Pottymouth is a hot royal mess right now. The universe went and started puberty (wtf! I wasn't ready!), therefore the King and Queen of Changovia are having to do the royal smack down more often than usual. Then this ugly, ugly little wart of problem popped up.
My ex-husband.
If I had a dragon, I'd totally sick it on this moron. The bottom line is he's not involved. Occassionally during his criminal enterprises he remembers he has kids and calls them. There are several layers of suckitude about the situation and for the most part, Pottymouth is the one affected the most emotionally by it all. We nurse him through his down times and let him know we love him. Puberty is not helping - but we are all sucking it up and dealing.
The King of Changovia and I decided to deal with the situation the best we know how and are moving forward in that direction for the best interests of the kids. I am astounded and grateful the King of Changovia just accepts the Jesters as his own and has no qualms about hugging them and telling them, "Hell no you can't have Rock Star at 9pm! It's a school night."

I woke up at 5 this morning after a particularly odd dream in which a friend and I went to a flea market and I made him buy me a red coin purse. It had a silver coin with Robert Kennedy on it hidden in the lining. Then we realized we were on break from work, we were really late and his three year old was driving us back.
I have no idea what the hell that means.
However, I did notice everyone was out cold at that hour and I had the house to myself!
Off to my desk with ample supply of coffee and music, I continued my foray into fucking up nursery rhymes. I am currently on the search to do one that will take two to five pages, but I haven't found any that have really have taken a stab at my twisted soul. I've begun work on two other pieces which I hope everyone will find fun and amusingly creepy....should you see a nursery rhyme or myth or have a fun little antedote in which there is some dismembering or maiming, please feel free to write me....

The Sign

I look for signs to keep me on my path because sometimes I tend to get a little crazy with some ideas. This is the downfall sometimes with a creative mind. I've been contemplating this little love story, wondering if it's worth doing. I have a notebook filled with names, stories, ideas, sketches, etc. While this is going on, I agreed to throw a little love at our entrepid editor at Under The Juniper Tree because she's the goddamn bomb for putting all our horrific skills to the test monthly when I realized, I really didn't know much about her.
However, the universe provided in the form of of mutual disgust for Lori from the Walking Dead.

This is my love to Bree who makes us all look good and doesn't mind slicing someone's head off. Bree said she loved it! I love when people love my stuff - all artists love it!
During my contemplation of what to paint for Bree, inspiration smacked me again. Was it worth doing? And I think, if I don't travel down this road, I won't learn anything. Just paint it! It'll be fun!  So while my evil co-worker at my 9 to 5 job, Ray and I were laughing over some wicked work by Gris Grimly - the Grimified Popeye - and I couldn't get this out of my mind. Emo Olive Oil.

Gris is my favorite artist, hands down. I posted this on his FB, and got two comments from him today. I can only hope to be as good someday. So I'm dancing around the living room like a crazy person - Beefy is laughing and dancing with me (he doesn't care, Mom is happy!) while my husband is looking at me because he knows and is suffering right along with me artistically. I am over the moon.
I think it was the sign - the little love story in my head might be worth doing....

Car Shopping....

Here's one I did years ago - love it to this day. Click to visit the site for a copy.

On the clock bitches!

Time sucks for me as an artist. I work a full time job, I am a wife, I have four kids and I am an artist. I have very little time to actually paint. My work surface is covered in sketch after sketch of the cartoons I have in my head. Realistically, I only get to be creative an hour a weeknight (depending on homework, chores or some kid-related drama) and a good four hour block on the weekends. If I really push myself I can knock out two paintings a week. So, I did this piece for Under the Juniper Tree and discovered one thing.
It sucked balls.
I had an idea pop in my head and thought, yep, that'll work. I focused on one thing about the story I was illustrating and went with it. I struggled with damn thing for week, finishing it on the due date and realizing, it was crap. There was no way I could email this to my editor, she'd laugh then wipe her behind with it. After all that work, I scrapped it. I sat down, read the story again and found a new angle - bam! Two or three hours later, I had finished this:

I love it. I emailed it a day late, but it was much better than the first. It was totally worth it. I was racing the clock, but I thought, the editor would rather have a nice piece late than a piece of shit on time. Yes, it took more time and I could've just let it go, but I'm glad I didn't. This is a creative expression and that sometimes will take you longer than you think. I look forward to your thoughts on the picture...hope you love it as much as I do.

It is available at Stagi Works, just click on the picture and it will take you straight there...

Bunny Love...

Now, my sister Olivia is a dollmaker. She loves picking out fabric, buttons and patterns to create something a child will love.  She's carried around fabric for over ten years knowing someday she'd have a need for it. I tried doll making and I have to say I love painting more and scaring the crap out of children. However, it taught me the skill and gave some new creative insights into my own work. It also got me thinking: what is the day of a doll like? Especially a doll made in my sister's workshop? Keep in mind, she has 9 kids, an Asian Mastiff named Hazel and for whatever crazy reason, a newly adopted puppy named Eleanor who is too round to try to lick her own behind. So, I imagine this is what this bunny is thinking.

A Day in the Life of Olivia's Bunny...(starring Ellen Degeneres' voice - because all my characters are celebrities in my head!)

Wow, this place is cold! Bunny thought. Hm....where is the lady? I need a blanket or something...

Oh, there she is. Hey, lady -

"GIANNA, I DON'T CARE IF DOESN'T MATCH YOUR OUTFIT! I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR A SICK KID - GOGOGOGGO!!!" The workshop/garage door closes with a bang...

"Now where is that thingamajigger.."

Um, lady? Can you spare a - OMG...it's that kid with the tail...nononoo! Let me go!

"HAZEL! Put that down, you silly girl!"

Ouch, that was my tail..ew...what is that on my ear? Look lady, you really gotta do something about that drooling kid with the tail. She keeps staring at me and my friends at night and I have to say it's getting a little creepy, you know what I mean?

"I'm gonna have to wash you...okay..HEY! Cyrus! Did you brush your teeth? No green rotting teeth in this house! Go - we are outta here in five minutes."

Bunny was carried through the morning chaos to the laundry room where she was plopped on a basket.

Geez, it stinks in here...what is that? Good lord...

Psycho music starts - Gianna is at the door - light shining behind her. "Your are so CUTE! Hm..." Gianna picks the Bunny up and scrams out there straight to her backpack.

AAAA!!! GET ME OUT OF HERE!? I've seen what she does to Barbie! NO! I don't want goth eyes! Lady!Lady! She's hiding a sharpie! I SAW IT WITH MY OWN BUTTONS!

"Everyone, let's go! Time for school!"

"Mom, where's the toothpicks for your belly button?"

"Gianna, we gotta go. We'll do belly lint later. Mary, hustle! Cyrus, for the love of God, where are your pants?"

"Oh, yeah."

Lady, can you hear me? I'm in the backpack, my ear is still wet and it smells weird in here. The crayons at the bottom of the this thing are sceaming at me not leave them on the sidewalk...what the hell is that about? Hello! Hello? Lady?

Bunny felt like she was moving - but she was in the dark and very nervous. She starting humming to keep herself busy. For awhile, she fell asleep in the cramped backpack and was then startled awake by the sound of a zipper and light.

"You are so cute! I'm gonna feed you lunch, okay?" Gianna smooshed a bit of tuna sandwich near Bunny's mouth. Oh no, this is gonna be messy. I don't even eat real food. Why does the kid think I need to eat? Whoa - ew! I'm gonna smell like that all day? Kid, I'm a doll. Your aren't supposed to really feed me, just pretend okay? Can you get a wipey or something? Bacterial wipes? I'm feeling a little grungy here....I'm not entirely sure this place is sanitized, ok? Has the lady washed your backpack lately?

The crayons were screaming at the sight of Gianna and then the zipper closed.

Shut up! Why are you making all that noise? She doesn't even know you're down there. What is going on here?

She said she was going to leave us on the sidewalk to melt. We're not made for that! WHAAAA!!!

Why would she do that?

She took us from some other kid, who is a FABULOUS artist by the way, we got the front of the fridge door-

Stop, stop. How long have you been here?

Six months.

Um, I think you're safe.

It was all quiet until a bell rang and children's voices rose, Bunny felt the backpack being picked up and bounced around. Gianna opened it and shoved papers in, not all way, so the it stayed open and Bunny could see out of it.

I have a chance! The lady is gonna see me!

"Gianna! Is that your bunny? She's so cute!"

Bunny was grabbed and then inspected by a group of stick hands. No! Stop touching me! My fabric is all sticky now. Ow! Those are my ears! Don't rip my fabric. Lady, where's the lady? Lady! Oh, God, leave the tail alone! That is not COOL.

"Gianna!" The lady was here! Her voice sounded like she did when she yelled at the ugly kid when it pooped on the floor. "You are in big trouble."

I am so glad you found me! I am filthy! Hey, look, can you help me out? I think a nice bath with bubbles and maybe a nice massage after? I've been though hell today, you have no idea. It was hot and smelly and the crayon guys wouldn't shut up. They are definitely annoying, but I think if you give them to that kid you call Anna, she'll take care of them. And all those kids touching me...it was, well, let's just say, I'm good, no little rabbits for me. I don't really know how you stay sane.

Wait, where are you taking me? Why are we in the laundry room? What is this - oh, hi guys! Where did the lights go? Whoa, we're spinning, why are we spin-AHHHAHAHHH I'M GONNA THROW  UP!!!!

Bunny was spun around then she was tossed into another spinny thing and fluffed dry.

Finally, her little head stopped spinning as she was set down on a shelf in the garage.

Lady, I am so glad to be here. I love kids, but I don't think I want to be held by one ever again-

"There you go, all clean. Don't worry, tomorrow I'm sending you to a new home and if you're lucky enough some kid will love just as much as Gianna."

The other bunnies started laughing.

Oh, shut up you guys....

If you'd like to order a bunny, click on the picture above  - thank you!

 

Like Sailors....

Besides sarcasm, our family is first in line to perfect the art of cussing. I can remember uttering the word 'fuck' for the first time. After that initial shock of, 'Whoa, Mom didn't hear that!' I proceded to try them all and learned a few new ones at the school yard. The level of profanity on the school yard was only excelled by the level of depraved stories we told each other before we called, "Bullshit!" Ah, Catholic school....

Anyway, I was reminded of this skill when my son, Pottymouth, declared that his chores sucked ass. I agreed, chores do suck but we do them or else we'd be on a guest episode of Hoarders and I really don't have time for that. We giggled when (yeah,yeah, bad mommy) he said 'ass' but that kid has a gift for putting in the right sentence and making it funny. It's probably not the best thing to teach him, but I've done just about everything in my power short of sewing his mouth shut to get him to stop. Currently, my plan is to get him to use it in the right moment. If nothing else, he won't sound like a total moron and maybe he'll be on Comedy Central someday.

I remember not too long ago when my two oldest were 7 and 4, riding bikes outside my sisters' house one fine family Thanksgiving. They were screaming, laughing and having a great old time, when I actually stopped to listen to what they were yelling.

"Cocksucker! Cocksucker!"

I ran out there, asked them to stop, that word is not polite and, more importantly, where did you learn it?

Their innocent voices answered. "Grandma."

They still think this is funny. They love hanging out with Grandma - she curses up a storm and the children find this hysterical.

Now, my niece Gianna, when she was three was hanging with me because my sister had some stuff to do and it was nice to have some girl power in the house. The kids were all hanging out in their room and Pottymouth came out with a half of a Christmas ornament and a smirk.

"I told Gianna not to eat the ornament and that I was gonna tell on her. She called me a douchebag."

I panicked, pulled the rest of the glass ornament from her mouth, however most of it was on the carpet.

She discovered it wasn't that tasty, but the glitter made her lips look pretty.

Douchbag was the favorite word at that time. And after that episode we decided to refrain from using it because when Gianna starts kindergarten we didn't want her calling her classmates that. We'd at least wait until she could spell it first.

Ah...yes, the satisfaction of a new creepy family  - I love nothing more than painting a surly teenager who is mortally embarrassed by her family..or a child that crop dusts his family (that would be farting and running to you - stop feeding that kid beans!).
I'm doing a lot of this work so I can pay for my son's braces. Unfortunately, he was born with his mother's teeth. I was fortunate enough that after enough cringing from strangers, my mother chose to get me braces. I want to do the same for him. If you'd like a portrait, contact me via email, phone or bat....

My Morning - Boy Smell & the Coffee Crisis

Rolled out of bed, scurried to the kitchen, briefly gagged at the boy funkitude emitting from my oldest son's room - only to discover that there was no coffee made!
Does my Beefsteak have a death wish? I wonder, then feel guilty because my poor hubby has to go in early. Searched the cabinets - woohoo! Instant espresso!
Properly caffeinated, I get ready - vaguely wondering of those are old chick spots on my hands and maybe I need to get my eyes checked. I sprint through the house plaguing my children with the light switch and a "Get up! Brush Your Teeth!"
Grumbling, smelly beings crawl from their rooms and beat each other senseless over who get the bathroom first. Type A, Pottymouth and Dramaqueen argue about toothbrush usage and who the hell hid the toilet paper?!?  I walk blissfully by because I have to go wake the Baby Beefy. He is a cute little fart and a total cock blocker. This is what happens when you let the baby sleep with you. He used to smell like baby, now he's starting to smell like the rest of those midgets who live with me. As I convince him he needs to get up, I then remember the name of the baby mama from a conversation from three days ago at work. Bridgett Monahan!
I load the monsters in the van and proceed to drop everyone off - three separate stops! Of course Type A is
laughing at Pottymouth (whose mouth is off and running with colorful language! Fucking A!) and Dramaqueen is busy dancing like a mad person in the back seat to that hooker nut job, Britney Spears. Beefy screams as his BBq chip hook-up, Pottymouth has exited the car and left him high and dry.
Baby Beefy being last - I get flipped off by a school bus driver. Yeah, you want me to run over those kids in the cross walk? Who pissed in your cheerios this morning? If you don't like the big bus, get the small one, jerk face.
I race to work while trying to talk to my hubby and then race to the time clock. Only to discover this little fucker needs to be warmed up to clock in. No joke. It doesn't like our Tea Fairy's time card at all. I told the maintenance guy to knit it a sweater so we could clock in on time. After only three tries today, it spits my card out like 90 year old cigarette smoker.
Whew...

Think!

Many, many things are going on in my life right now - my four fiends, work (yes, apparently the fiends like food and vast quantities of it) moving and a few obstacles that I didn't expect. Trying to find a place to think at my house doesn't happen. Nope, not even the bathroom - my fiends think "Hey, Mom is sitting I should go nag her to death on this."
So when I get a moment, I try to think of the things I should be thinking then I get sidetracked because:
A: I'm old.
B:  I'm tired.
C: Do I really give a fuck?
Am I really at that age? I think I've hit that stage, where I think to myself, why the hell am I wasting my time? I gotta get this kid a cracker or he's gonna go apeshit on me. No, you may not go out at 10pm on a school night because your girlfriend called. No, that bag is not too gay for dance class. No, launching yourself over the yard duty teacher is not cool.
Believe it or not, this shit is important - the things I used to think were important, are in fact not.