On the second day of kindergarten my brother said to me......

"Mallory.....when you see me in the hall way.....pretend that you dont"

It is going to be a loooooong 10 years

oh, and HELLO, anyone still out there? I really need to start using this thing again to keep track of all the awesomeness that I am sure will come out of having 2 kids in the same school again. Good times I say. Good times.

But, Peter, how do we get to Never Land

Have you heard of this guy?

He thinks he is Peter Pan. For realz. This "boy" dances around the United States dressed like Peter Pan and he even married Tinker Bell which if you really think about it is kind of creepy

Last November while at the airport picking up some of my besties for another weekend of sinning the following transpired

Joe comes up to me after going to get a cup of coffee and informs me that he just saw Robin Hood. In our airport. I looked at him like he was stupid and he kept insisting that he saw Robin Hood. A guy dressed in a Renaissance looking get up complete with tights.

Now I have actually HEARD of this guy before through a friend of mine but quickly burned the image from my brain and never thought of him again. Unlike my friend Kelly who was in town from Long Island and immediately knew it HAD to be the Peter Pan guy. Right, because Columbus does not have it's own fair share of freaks in tights?

so like the assholes we are we tore off in the direction Joe saw him. He was not hard to find. And like the asshole I am I went right up to him and asked him if he was that "guy from the Internet" to which he replied "I am that boy". I am not exaggerating when I say he look beat up. Like he had had a rough night with the other lost boys the night before. His endeavour to not grow up was failing because Randy Pan looked OLD

But instead of (verbally) judging him I did what any other person who do if they met Peter Pan at the airport. I asked for a picture.

Sadly for Kelly and I, he was all out of pixie dust

Hellloooooooo??

So I want to get back to this. I really do. I actually had a friend email me this week and ask where the hell I have been. I don't usually have trouble finding SOMETHING to talk about. Verbal diarrhea has always come quite easy to me. I see I still have almost 200 followers but how many of them are actually keeping up with me via reader? I don't blame the ones that left, hello.....Ive been BORING. So, I will try and kick this back into gear.

Ready......here I go.......

How my 4 year old got crabs

Last week at dance class Mallory got crabs.

This conversation may be less funny in say 12 years but last week it was pretty funny. Every week after dance if the girls are good they get stamps on their hands. Last week while I enjoyed 60 minutes of uninterrupted kindle time payed close attention to my little ballerina she did an excellent job.

She came running out of class with a smile on her face and announced......Mommy, I got crabs!!! Instantly another little girl proclaimed "I got crabs too!!!!" Mallory then announced as loud as could be....."We ALL got crabs in dance class"

Sure enough, on each little hand was a big old smily crab stamp. While the moms in the lobby tried not to die laughing the little girls girls just smiled away about the crabs they got in dance class.

Pickles are the New Goose

So I was assaulted by a jar of pickles yesterday. No, really. I'm still not sure how it happened but as I was leaned all the way down getting something out of the crisper drawer for the kids

I all of the sudden saw little stars and birds floating around. That shit is really true! After the fog cleared and I looked down I realized that I had just been nailed in the back of my head by a 32 oz jar of pickles It had fallen directly on my head from the top shelf. About 3 feet. Exhibit A showing the size of the jar in comparison with a bottle of vicodin

Due to my insane bawling the kids started to freak out which made my skull throb. I just wanted (for the love of all that is holy) for them to be quiet long enough for me to decide if 1) I was going to pass out, and 2) if I were bleeding from the brain. Neither seemed to be the case so I sent Joe (who was in class) a few texts about how I was just clobbered by a pickle jar. In true man form he was all, "Man that sucks" not "Hey do you need me to leave and come home" But whatever.

I managed to survive the rest of the evening with a throbbing headache like none I have ever experienced. Hindsight I probably should have NOT gone to bed but I did at least ask him to poke me a few times in the middle of the night and make sure I was not dead. I stayed home today, still feeling kind of dizzy and just off. Plus I was not quite ready to face my co workers knowing that they would all soon know that on top of geese I also apparently am on the pickles death list

I ended up going to urgent care today because the headache and "weird" feeling that I cant so much describe would not go away. I sat across from the intake girl and when she asked why I was there responded with "I was attacked by a jar of pickles" She stared. I stared. And when she realized that I was not kidding she began making notes

I underwrite health insurance. A perk of this job is getting to read all of the random shit that people tell their doctors. When you tell your Dr that your marriage is in trouble because of your addiction to hookers or that you just cant seem to shake the vaginal itching they write that shit down verbatim. Forever in my medical records it now says "hit on the head by a jar of pickles.

Diagnosis? Concussion. For realz. Treatment? Nada. There is not a thing to be done about concussions other than don't sleep more than 4 hours at a time without being pestered and don't drink. Both which I have already failed to comply with. Don't judge, the wine helps with the headache.

So adding to the list of things I hate with a raging passion (geese, sold out NKOTB cruises and Snookie) I officially add pickles. And yes I forgive you for laughing because truly....who is NOT going to laugh at a chick who gets a concussion from a pickle jar. I would.

I ♥ Faces Beach Fun Photo Challenge!

Anyone still out there, or am I lost to the blogging world forever? I do really want to make a return to the land of blogging. I have much to tell....how my love for NKOTB had me drive to and from Chicago in 24 hours.....how my still not sold house flooded while on vacation....another mommy's gone wild weekend with my besties...." That said, today I want to participate in this weeks I Heart Faces photo challenge. I wish I had the original but I cant find it darnit. I don't love the vignette but I do love the pic!

Oh how I wish I were at the beach right now!! This picture is from our 2009 vacation to Holden Beach, NC. Mallory was not a fan of the beach but so long as she stayed on the "dry sand" she was a happy girl. Please click over to I heart faces to see more awesome pics!

Selling a house.....kind of sucks

So not loving the process of selling my house. Don't get me wrong, I really REALLY want it to sell but the "showing" part of it is 76 shades of on my nerves.

This is how it works. The realtor people call me with only an hour or so of notice and ask to show. Usually this occurs while I am at work. I leave work, hence sucking up my personal time (of which I only get so many hours per year), run home, turn on all my lights, spray the house with febrize cooking smell shit to make it all home-y, turn on my super cool Wii aquarium, get my dogs and leave. People who don't have pets have it WAY easy when it comes to home selling. This is where the real fun begins. Since I have stalker tendencies and patience issues I like to circle my hood and wait until I see the people are actually IN my house. Then I place myself strategically at the bottom of my road so I can see what kind of people are looking at my house, but also so I know when they are gone and I can throw the dogs BACK inside and get back to work.

The other day it went something like this. I get home, do all of the above steps, and sit in my car with 2 dogs and wait. And wait. And wait. Usually they show up towards the beginning of their hour and are gone 10-15 minutes later. Not so much this time. As I wait I notice Pierce's DS in the car with me. SCORE. I start to play random Mario mini games.....did you know you can play poker on Super Mario Bros? THEN I notice that the old dude who's house I'm chilling out beside giving me the eyeball. Like he is nervous that the chick rocking the mini van with a poodle and a Yorkie might be a threat to the hood. I end up getting out and talking to him for a few minutes, explained my situation, and once he knew I was not casing the joint but that I OWNED the joint he was good to go. Get back in my car and the phone rings. Douche bag realtor running late, had to cancel. May as well have light a fire to my hour and a half of personal time.

Also fun was the 614-715 showing last night. Only because Mallory had not had a bath since Sunday and was starting to have a cloud ala Pig Pen from Snoopy following her around. Thankfully I have a close friend who lives by. I packed up kids and dogs and totally gave my daughter a bath at my friend's house. Speaking of the kids......they are pretty much over it too. They are tired of me making them keep their toy room spotless ALL the time, tired of me telling them not to get stuff out. The only thing they think is cool is looking for the "card" that the realtor leaves behind.

Sigh. Please send house selling vibes. The tax credit is over in like 8 days and I am running out of places to hide STUFF