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.

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."

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!

 

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...