Lessons in Patience...and Cake Making

It's an ugly sumbitch, ain't it?

Having children requires a certain amount of patience.  Duh.  However, I have never been known for mine.  Admittedly, I have mellowed some over the years but I am still quick to judge, demand or snap.  Not all the time.  It depends.  (on how much liquor I've consumed).   I had hoped, as my son grew in my belly, that I would acquire the necessary patience to raise him right and not turn into one of those high-strung, screechy harpie moms who constantly harangue and holler at their children.   I am happy to report that I have not.  Not completely, anyway.  

Yesterday my teetering patience was greatly tested when my sweet, excited 6 year old son assisted me in making a cake.  My birthday cake.  From scratch, frosting and all.  If ever I had needed a valium and a bottle of Absolut in my life, that was the moment!!!  Naturally, he wanted to do everything himself!  Imagine his small, unsteady hands trying to level out the flour in the measuring cup.  Yeah, I know.  Picture that.  Like a fucking blizzard in here!   Then trying to dump the flour into the mixing bowl.  Oh yeah, you got that image too, right?  Like a cocaine bust gone bad, powder flying everywhere while the pushers, dealers and addicts go scattering like cockroaches, leaving their precious C-dust behind.

Criminy, I was on a hair trigger! 

I love my kid.  I would never hurt him.  I'd maim, kill, brutalize, destroy and obliterate anyone who even tried to lay a harming hand on my child.   Srsly.  But I was about 2 seconds from losing my marbles altogether and run screaming from the room throwing flour and sticks of butter at anyone who got in my way.

In the end, the cake turned out....well, edible.  Not bad, really.  It's crumbly and looks like absolute shit, but it's got a good flavor, just enough moisture in it to keep me from tossing it in the garbage and the frosting is pretty tasty.

The best part?

My kid had a blast.



Btw....I'm hoping to parlay this interest in cooking into a career for him - maybe as the next generations equivalent of Guy Fieri, with his own cool-ass show on Food Network.  Yes, I'm planning to live vicariously through my kid and I'm not the least bit ashamed of it.  Ha.

Squirrel!!!

Have you seen the animated movie, Up?   You have?  OK.  Remember the sweet little dog named Dugg who, bless his little puppy heart, was, like all other dogs, riddled with Attention Deficit Disorder?  Smack in the middle of his dialogue he would stop, point and yell, "Squirrel!".   Now....take Dugg, put him in human form - specifically that of an overweight 42 year old house frau (who, nevertheless manages to usually look effortlessly hip and fabulous) - and add a smidge more A.D.D.  That, my friends, is moi. 

I'm the squirrel-pointing equivalent of an animated dog.  *face palm*

I have actually been in the midst of a conversation with someone while riding in a car and without warning or pause yelled out "Squirrel!".  "Bunny!" and "Deer!" are also favorite tourrette-like eructations of mine because, well....I like squirrel, bunny and deer.  If I happen to see one on the side of the road, I suppose my poor, addled brain thinks it's important enough to interrupt a conversation between two grown-ass adults and immediately call attention to the fact that one of these critters (soon to be road-kill, I imagine) is visible from the road.   

What the blue fuck is that all about???

I have a theory.  Your brain is like any muscle in your body (yes, yes, I know the brain is an organ, not a muscle); if you don't use it, you lose it.   Admittedly, I have likely always had a touch of A.D.D. but it has become increasingly more evident and frustratingly present in recent years.  It got a bit worse after the birth of my son.  I mean, let's face it - kids are incredibly distracting because your focus has to be in 26 places at once in addition to dealing with the other asshole members of your household (husband, cats, dogs, birds, in-laws, your old college roommate - that useless bag of unemployable snot who has been camping out on your couch for the last 6 months swearing up and down he's going to get a job and move out...meanwhile the couch cushions are full of his beer farts and the pillows reek of his stank-nasty Funions breath and his chest hair is sprinkled all over your bathroom vanity.... irritating fucker.  Oh.....see what happened there?  I went off on a tangent....A.D.D., kids).

Back to my theory.....if you don't have consistency and routine, and something to do other than scrubbing skid marks out of underdrawers and grocery lists to make, your brain is going to atrophy.  It's going to shrivel and die from lack of use.  It will short-circuit, fry and malfunction.  In my case, it's A.D.D. and to add insult to injury, a glorious case of short-term memory loss.  Although, it could be the A.D.D. had me so distracted I never processed the things I was supposed to remember because I wasn't paying attention at the time and therefore---ah, feck it. 

Folks, I've been out of work for two and a half years.  I never chose to become a stay at home mom (diva!).  I lost my fucking job rather unexpectedly and couldn't find another.   It's that tragically simple.  I looked.  I looked and looked and cried and raged and suffered horrible feelings of rejection and uselessness until I finally gave up and accepted my fate as just another unemployed schmuck.  It's been very hard getting myself into a routine and for the majority of the time I have been languishing here at home, I haven't had one.   I try but then a squirrel runs by or something shiny catches my eye and BOOM!...routine blown to hell.  Focus gone. 

Have any of you ever gone through something like this?  How does someone in my position, with my unfortunate affliction, drag their sorry carcass out of the rut and do something productive?   Please don't go all Nike on me and tell me to "just do it".  Try it and the next thing I "just do" will be digging a hole to toss your body into.  Seriously, kids.  I need real perspective here - real, tried and true solutions! 
Anyone have anything?  

Anyone?

Anyone?

Bueller?

Any--

--BIRDIE!

New Beginnings!

Ciao, kiddies!

Well, looks like I'm at it again.  Actually, it doesn't look like it....it is.  Yes, I have (as you can plainly see since you're reading this) created...Yet.  Another.  Blog.  Ugh.  Go ahead, get it over with.  Roll your eyes.  Go on, I know you want to. 

You done now?  Good.  Now, pay attention.

The reason for this is twofold.  One; I need to start writing more and about a greater variety of subjects since I have all but decided I am going to pursue a creative writing degree.  Two; my other blog contains a great deal of extremely personal information that is not only not fit for general consumption but will reveal truths about me to certain folks I am not yet ready to reveal.   

Aw, shit....now I've done it.  I've tossed that tasty bone out there with lil bits o' meat clinging to it and now all you dogs are wondering what it tastes like.  Tough shit.  If I wanted you to gnaw on it, I'd have thrown it your way.  Sorry, suckas!  (no I'm not)

Look, here's the deal:  I love to write.  I can't say with any certainty that I'm very good at it.  There are times I am spot on and funny as hell.  I've got shit to say and by God, I'm-a gonna say it.  Sometimes I even say it rather well.  Other times my posts are a rambling mess of disjointed thoughts and nonsensical ravings (of a lunatic mind!) chock full o' typos, grammatical errors and truly bad punctuation.  Come to think of it, this one will likely be full of bad punctuation.  Somehow, I seem to have brain-farted that skill clean out of my head at some point in the last 10 or 15 years or so. 

This blog is meant to hone my skill, share my observations about life, be it my own, those of friends or family (with their permission, of course....usually) and/or things I see on the intrawebs and the news.   My inspiration, my fodder is the world around me.  Some days my scope and my focus will be very narrow and won't go any farther than my own  head.  There's a scary prospect.  Some days I'll see what's happening out there in cyber space and rant a little about that.  Maybe, every once in a while, I'll really wander far and see what's happening out in the big, bad, scary, fucked-up world we live in.

Oh yeah.....there's gonna be swearing.  Lots of it.  Perhaps not in every post, but you can bet douche bags to donuts that the majority of my posts are going to peppered with colorful language and some sweet little nuggets of cussing created by yours truly.  Folks, don't get yer knickers in a twist over it.  They are only words (says the would-be writer!).  They only have power if you give them power.  Frankly, I love to swear.  -- now would be the time to skedaddle if you find you cannot bear to expose your delicate eyeballs to my foul expletives --  Hello, the name of this blog is "Potty Mouth"!  Why are you here?  I fucking love to fucking swear and shitballs cock motherfucker I'm going to say every shitty fucking thing I fucking feel I need to 'cause dammit this is MY blog and I -- insert Cartman voice here--> do what I want! 

Capiche?  
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Still here??  Excellent!  You've made a good decision. I really think you're going to get a kick out of this.  If not....well....I'll look like a real asshole, won't I?