My grandma dug this out and gave it to me the other day. I think she found it at just the right time and it really struck a cord with me. I’m making a huge effort not to be this way anymore, and so far I think it’s made a great difference.

To My Grown Up Son

My hands were busy through the day;
I didn’t have much time to play
The little games you asked me to.
I’d wash your clothes, I’d sew and cook,
But when you’d bring your picture book
And ask me please to share your fun
I’d say “A little later, son.”
I’d tuck you in all safe at night
And hear your prayers, turn out the light.
Then tip-toe softly to the door….
I wish I’d stayed a minute more.

A little boy grows up so fast.
No longer is he at your side
His precious secrets to confide.
The picture books are put away,
There are no longer games to play,
No good-night kiss, no prayers to hear….
That all belongs to yesteryear.
My hands, once busy, now are still,
The days are long and hard to fill.
I wish I could go back and do
The little things you asked me to.

So. Yeah. Blubbering much huh? My little guy is sick today and he is very needy. I’m making every effort to be there for every little thing he asks. Because I’m well aware that some day, I will miss taking care of my little guy when he is sick. So, have to go now, he wants to cuddle in Bandons bed (He says his name with out the R).

Portrait of a donut eating fool

Donuts make Shannon very happy.

And also. I WILL ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS CHOOSE NEIL DIAMOND. GOSH YOU GUYS DON’T KNOW ME AT ALL (Even my husband got this wrong tsk tsk tsk). (The two who ALWAYS get it right Coffee slut and Laura, who oddly enough both just got mail from me ((or should have, let me know if you didn’t)) (I swear Coffee slut is like secretly implanted something in my brain to cheat and guess what I’m thinking every single second of the day, oh shit, I hope she couldn’t hear me earlier when I was thinking about, cough ahem, never mind.)

So come on and sing it with me baby

Play it now, play it now
Play it now, my baby

Cracklin’ Rosie, make me a smile
Girl, if it lasts for an hour, that’s all right
We got all night to set the world right
Find us a dream that don’t ask no questions

Oh, I love my Rosie child
You got the way to make me happy
You and me we go in style
Cracklin’ Rose,
You’re a store-bought woman
But you make me sing like a guitar hummin’
So hang on to me, girl
Our song keeps runnin’ on
Play it now, play it now
Play it now, my baby

An open letter to the chocolate dipped donuts on my kitchen counter

Yesterday at the store after filling my cart with enough vegetables to make the checker exclaim, “WOW I’ve never seen someone buy so many vegetables, I hate vegetables, I don’t even know how you will eat all of these,” I walked towards the deli meat counter. In order to get to the deli counter for my husbands fresh sliced lunch meat I had to pass the bakery.

That is when I spotted you. In your pretty plastic box. Your chocolaty dipped goodness. You reminded me of those yummy little Hostess chocolate dipped donuts ONLY BIGGER! I thought of my sweet little Brandon and picked them up. Even though there were 15 donuts in the package I still grabbed it. Then I looked around hoping to find a package with a smaller amount. There were none. You were a smart package, you knew how to suck me in with your vast quantity and chocolaty goodness.

After you were in my cart I finished shopping. I checked my labels. Nothing with high fructose corn syrup. Nothing with fillers or nitrates (can’t wait to taste those nitrate & filler free hot dogs I got Brandon). I filled it with vegetables and organic milks and butters. I got fruit instead of cookies. Slowly I could no longer see the tasty donuts in my cart. I forgot about your tastiness lurking in there.

Until the check stand. Then I found you again as I put you on the black conveyor belt. Suddenly sometime wet appeared on my face, and I found myself hurriedly wiping drool before the checker saw it trickling out of my mouth.

I finished up and paid and walked to my car where I saw the edge of your box sticking out of the bag. You knew what you were doing. You knew I was hungry and you strategically placed yourself right where I would see you.

Of course you know what I did. You know that I grabbed one of your delicious, chocolate covered selves and ate you as I drove home to cook dinner. I didn’t even feel bad about eating you, or maybe it wasn’t you, maybe that was your mommy donut, or your auntie donut, either way I ate one donut from your little family of donuts and it was OUTSTANDING!

Then last night I got home and fed my family dinner and I gave my son 1/2 a donut as a treat. But this morning, alas you are all still here. Staring at me. You are telling me to eat all of you. Not just one, BUT ALL. Your reminding me how the people on Biggest Loser can eat 1500 calories in a temptation and still lose weight. Your making it sound like eating the whole box wouldn’t even be, “that bad.”

So I had a bite of my sons donut this morning and it was good. And I have to ask, why do you have to taste that good? You do it on purpose don’t you. You were created just to ruin diets and crash weight losses. I’m on to you sweet donuts. And even though I’m on to you, I still want to eat you. I want to shovel you in my mouth and lick the crumbs off the floor.

I’m left now staring at my sons half eaten donuts with tiny bites in them thinking, I WANT TO EAT THOSE TOO! Whatever you maker did when making you, he did right. He has made me question whether I’m a human, or if I am in fact a Hoover vacuum who runs on donut crumbs.

There will be no contest this time donuts. No mailing you out and pawning you off on some other poor soul. No no no, this time donuts, it is me vs. you and one of us won’t be here at the end. Chances are, it won’t be you!

I see you dear sweet donuts

Up close at the chocolaty goodness

Don’t look at me like that bloggers, you would eat it too

Maybe I can get by just smelling it

NO! Must eat donut

NO NO! Must not eat donut. Must just stare at it longingly instead!

Telling donuts, they are bad bad naughty little donuts. They should be ashamed of themselves
(Go ahead and count they are all still there!)

((Mandy was trying to describe my blog to her husband the other day, I stepped in saying, “I’m big on self humiliation on my blog,” But then I realized I hadn’t humiliated myself lately, which is why you now get these pictures and also, not even five minutes later!

Which one

While driving to work this morning the following was on my radio. Which one did I listen to?

1. Sean Kingston- Beautiful girl

2. Neil Diamond- Cracklin Rose

3. My favorite talk radio show

4. Adam Corolla

5. Something on the country channel

6. That newish song by John Mayer

7. Plain White tees- Delila

8. Chingy- Holiday Inn

9. None got mad and turned on my Ipod

Hurry hurry hurry

I need to Exercise

I need to shave my armpits

(Sniffs) I probably need to throw some deodorant on there too

You know, maybe I should just go ahead and take a shower

I need to buy groceries

I need to remember to put milk on my grocery list

I need to open Codi’s savings account now that I FINALLY got his SS#

I need to wash my car it is starting to look like my interior color of choice is dirty toddler shoe dust

I need to put those two cups of milk in the fridge

I need to make Brandons breakfast

I need to pee

I need to go see what Brandon is doing in his room to make all that noise

I need to brace myself for whatever I see, it is loud in there, it’s going to be bad

I need to make two care packages for friends

I need to remember not to leave my freshly boiled eggs in the pot of hot water again all day resulting in hard boiled egg shaped bouncy balls

I need to drink at least 10 more cups of my chocolate raspberry Hawaiian coffee because it taste like desert

I need to do more sit ups and push ups

I need to do push ups with out a two ear old sitting on my back saying I WANNA RIDE DA HORSE

I need to tell everyone how this weekend I got a little short with Brandon and he replied with, “oh my gosh mom, my goodness.” and I had to try really hard not to laugh

I still need to pee

I need to tell Brandon to get dressed AGAIN because I just walked in and found him reading books naked while covering his mr. wiggle saying look mommy it’s gone, as he turns the pages

I need to tell you how yesterday my son ran over to me and farted and smewll it mom smewll it

I need to figure out why there is a tissue in my shirt in my armpit

I need to clip two toenails

I need to tell these guys on the Biggest Loser that they are a bunch of super whiney fucker baby pansey asses AND REAL MEN DON’T CRY LIKE THIS! Shit, do they just find men who are going through menopause?

I need to stop blogging so I can get all this done

Do you have anything you need to do today?

Why is it so hard?

So! You want to know what shirt you wore on your first day of 4th grade? Chances are I will remember. You want to know every guy you ever kissed? I will remember. Basically anything you want to know I can remember. However. Try and get me to remember to feed my son breakfast, and the lights go out. Sure, I remember to feed myself, and that is because I can feel my tummy growl. But unless Brandon is super famished he won’t tell me he is hungry. Thats why there have been numerous days when at 11:00 I suddenly think, fuck I haven’t fed my kid. That is also oddly close to the time that I find him in the refrigerator savagely digging cream cheese out of a tub with his fingers.

The same goes with teeth brushing. I can feel the fur in my mouth if I haven’t brushed, but remembering his. Yeah I suck at it. Which is why I had to cover my bases and bring a toothbrush to work so if I forget at home, then at some point during the day I will remember at work.

Or how about the fact that I CAN NOT remember to put his cup of milk back in the fridge. Resulting in more grossed out looks from my husband then I care to think about. No shit, do you know how many times Rob has picked up a sippy cup of cottage cheese looking milk and just shook his head at me. Oops.

It also seems I never remember to style Brandons hair until right when I am buckling him in the car seat and we are already 10 minutes late. Instead most days my child looks like he just woke up from a nap.

I never remember to turn off his TV which results in Rob saying,”babe, what did you forget to do today?” (This is a tossup, it could be Brandon’s TV or the porch light, the porch light is never turned off by me.)

This all leads me to believe I’m going to be the mom who forgets her sons lunch on the counter. Which means I’m going to be that mom chasing after my kid on the playground shouting “honey you forgot your lunch sweety snookems lover muffin!”

Because honestly, if I’m going to be embarrassing myself by being a flaky forgetful idiot, I might as well embarrass him too and add some spit shining to his face for good measure right?