RAT-A-TAT-TACK!!!

As I type this, I'm trying desperately NOT to throw a major tantrum. And here's why:

I was out on the balcony off my bedroom, hanging wet clothes over the rail to dry (it's my clothesline, don't judge), and as I was walking back in, I noticed, what appears to me to be...RAT TURDS. Holy shitspa!! {{Shivers}}Um, if you read my story about mice, you should know that this is NOT OK. {{Shivers, again}} I can not even begin to tell you how NOT OK this is. I'm seriously freakin' out right now. {{And, more and more and more shivers}}

I leave for 2 weeks on Tuesday and I'm wondering if can stay with my in laws until then. Or maybe we could just bring in the motor home a couple days early and I could stay in that on the street. And I've decided I'm not coming home until this situation has been dealt with properly, i.e. DEAD RAT. {{major shivers}}

When we bought this house, I didn't realize that all those shade trees in the back were also a rat condo. Had I known, I would have started charging rent and either scared them off or made some money off of it. Or, caught them and sold them into slavery (aka lab testing). Shoooot...we had an income property here and didn't even know it! Wait...why am I joking about this? This is no laughing matter!! Back to business...

But, in all seriousness, you have no idea how freaked out I am right now. Not sure what's worse? A family of mice, or ONE BIG OL' RAT. It's a close race, I can tell you that.

Now here's what's going to happen...

I'm going to get a chainsaw and go out back, in full body armor, and chop down every freakin' tree in my backyard so that damn rat has no place to hide. Then I'm going to put out sticky, inhumane traps all over and wait for that sorry little sucker to get it's sorry little ass stuck to the glue, then watch it die a slow painful death, all the while laughing a creepy, evil laugh. Muahahaha.

Ok, so here's what's really going to happen...

Tim is going to stop by the store and pick up a case of inhumane sticky traps and set them out all over the place. He'll check them a couple times a day until it's caught. When it's caught, he will dispose of it and tell me about it when it's over. If I happen to be around when it's caught, I might possibly ask to see the dead nasty sucker on the trap, just so I know the deed has been done. And then I'll go on with my life as though nothing has happened, and as though there was only one rat...and not a colony of them.

Rats and mice...good for nothing, nasty, little disease carrying monsters, created by the devil.

{{SHIVERS!!!}}

Ah-ha! I just had an epiphany! Things are starting to make a little more sense now...I often here noises on the east side of the house and wonder what it is. Hum...
UPDATE:
We have since caught MANY rats on that balcony and I now refuse to step foot out there. We cut down the tree that was right next to it in hopes that it would keep them away, but I'm pretty sure

Things that make me wonder...

Sometimes I wonder about things.

I wonder why the makers of my Lincoln Navigator L (L = L-O-N-G) put the beeper to my reverse sensing system all the way in the back of the car. What's the point? I have at least 3 kids, sometimes more, a dog or two and 2 bench seats, between me and the beeper, meaning I couldn't hear it even if I was trying to {{Yes...I said if I was trying, because I'm most likely screaming and/or swinging at kids, breaking up a fight or yelling at Gracie to stop messing with the dang radio while I back up, rather than trying to listen for the beeper, which sort of makes this a moot point}}.

I wonder why my hair can't look this good everyday. I'm having a really good hair day and it was wasted on a measly trip to Target and my in laws. Oh, the pest control guy got see it, which was probably worth it since I'm usually still in my pj's and not showered when he shows up. And I did run by the Tulare office to have something notarized. So maybe it wasn't wasted after all...but I would like some people at, say, Tahoe Joe's to see it, while I'm scarfing down my perfectly prepared filet and loaded baked potato. Hummmm....

I wonder why I wasn't crazy until I had kids. I know it's not the kids, it's my hormones...never the less, I'm still Crazy with a capital C. Of course, the C to the R to the AZY is what makes my blog so good. Wait...it is good, right? Or do I just think it's good? Oh gosh...I've probably make all this up in my head and no one even reads it or enjoys it...Crap. Now I need a Xanax.

I wonder why they make those bathing suits with Spanx in them. Honestly, it seemed like a great idea until I TRIED to try one on and I couldn't even get it over my legs! I saw that rack and I was like, "HOLLER!! A bathing suit that will hold in my muffin top! Can I get a what, what?" So I grabbed a couple different ones to try on. And you thought regular bathing suit shopping was depressing? I stepped into that thing and started pulling it up and when it got just above my knees, it stopped. I nearly gave myself a black eye when my hands lost their grip on it. That sucker wasn't movin'! I took it off and tried one leg at a time. I got one leg all the way in and then tried to put the other one in...then I nearly fell out the door of the dressing room. Let's take a moment to picture that, shall we? This woman that has to try on a bathing suit with Spanx in it to begin with has one leg in, one foot stuck, no bra, worn out panties, laying flat on her BACK in the dressing room hall way. A-T-T-R-A-C-T-I-V-E. But hey, my hair looked good!!!

I wonder why I'm a 37 25 year old woman that still allows herself to get sunburned beyond recognition. I mean really. We've had this conversation before. I'm a white girl. I don't tan, I burn. I dye my hair red because I think it should be my natural color. I know this about myself, yet I still go out onto the beach in my sweats and tank, and say, "Oh...I don't need sunscreen for 15-20 minutes..." and then 2 hours later I look like a lobster. How stoopid!

(This one isn't going to start with I wonder...)

Yesterday, while I was at the store, why did I feel so insecure when I was picking out my corn on the cob? I felt like there were all these farmers wives looking at me and thinking, "Oh...poor city girl has to buy her corn on the cob at the grocery store. May God have pity on her soul." No, I'm serious! I was buying unshucked corn on the cob at the grocery store and seriously got a complex. That being said...the corn was A-MAZING!!

Then, while I was loading my groceries into my LONG car, there was a woman sitting in a car staring at me like I was crazy because I was loading the groceries into the back...seat and...on top of the car seat. Yes, lady, I realize I have a very large car with an ample amount of cargo space, but FYI, the back was full of..."stuff" and I didn't want to put all my fruit and ice on top of it, ok? And, when I pull into my garage the side without the car seat is against the wall and it's easier to get in the drivers side. Geez, lady. Stop judging me. Now I ask...why do I care?!?!

Anyhoo...these are just a few things that I've had on my mind lately. Random? Maybe.

OH OH!!! I bought myself a bathing suit!! Not one with Spanx, obviously, but a cute little red number that looks like a tankini but isn't. And I don't even look like a regular ol' grandma in it! I look like a hot ol' grandma that just stepped off the pages of Sports Illustrated: White Old Lady Edition.

P.S. Thank you to whoever invented spell check.

Look out Hawaii...Here Come the Dodsons, and the Harris'...and the Vincents

I was told by my nieces Madison (aka Stinky) and Rylie (aka...Rylie) that I needed to blog about a recent conversation we had while on the beach {{YES...I was on the beach, in get this...a tankini! Ok, a tank and bathing suit bottoms, but I did it and looked H-O-T, literally...I got fried.}}

Anyway...Us three H-O-T YOUNG hotties and a few ugly teenage girls were out on the beach and decided we needed to take a big ol' family vacation to HAWAII. YEAH BABY!! We're thinking in a few years because we're all poor and we'll all need to save up our food stamps for a few years first. But when we go, someone, I won't name names (LYNNETTE) says we need to go to Oahu because that's where the "history" is, while me and the ugly teens don't give a rodents backside about the history. I suggested Maui or Kauai. Then we got into this big, fat, knock down drag out over where we're going to go. No really. My sis got her daughter in a freakin' headlock and wrestled her to the ground. It was chaos.

Sis-in-law (Chantal) says she doesn't care where we go, she just wants to go where it's warm and she can plant her butt in a lounge chair and have a hot cabana boy bring her drinks all day.

So I ask Tim (knowing exactly what he's going to say because we discuss it all the time) and he says Maui or the Big Island. Great...he had to go throw in another dang island!! That brings us to a total of 4 to choose from.

Then Michael shows up (Michael's my bro), and he says he HAS to go to Oahu so he can see all the "history". What? All of a sudden he's into all the culture and crap. Whatever. But, seriously...where did I come from? Bro and sis both want to see the "history". I just want to sit my skinny butt (note I said SKINNY butt, because I plan on being skinny by then...hahahahaha) in a lounge chair and have TWO hot cabana boys bring me drinks and rub my feet all day long...for 10 days straight.

So, now we have yet another conundrum {{omgee...I love that word}}. Where do we go? How do we make everyone happy? There will be 6 adults, at least 5 teens ranging in age from 16-18 (OMG), an 11-12 year old and a 7-8 year old. Suggestions appreciated.

**I know this isn't very funny...but you try writing a blog in a room, in a beach house, on the beach, with like 5 people around you having quite an amusing conversation. It ain't easy, people. I'm tellin' ya. Shooooot.**

Beach Body? I Think Not.

First I have to apologize to my "readers" (especially my sissy, Nett) for taking an unannounced hiatus. There was just stuff going on, ok? Believe it or not, I have a life. Not much of one, but some of one...

I'm currently at the beach with my whole family. The five of us, plus bro's family and sis' family (minus bro, bro-in-law and nephew, but everyone else is here and they were all here until this morning)! Anyway...they've all been having a blast on the beach. Tanning and what-not. But me? I'm upstairs in the house in my sweats and tee. Yesterday I did venture down to the sand, in my "3 piece suit", as my sister-in-law called it, 2 tank tops and a pair of sweats. They were capri sweats...does that count? Ugh...this conundrum has brought me to this blog post. {{Ok, I have no idea if that was the proper use of the word conundrum, but I really, really, really wanted to use that word.}}

When I went digging in the swim suit drawer to pack for the trip, I couldn't find a matching top and bottom. I have a suit that somewhat fits and looks ok, but I couldn't find the bottoms. Then when I found the bottoms, I couldn't find the top. So I gave up looking for that one. The other suit I have has a cute top, but the bottom is a skirt, and because I refuse to become "the old lady that wears a bathing suit with a skirt", I wasn't about to bring it. I usually wear the bottoms to an old maternity bathing suit I have, but I'm proud to say that those bottoms no longer fit (they're too big, duh), so that option was out, too.

Ok, in all honesty, that was just an excuse to not bring my suit. Even if I had it, I wouldn't wear it (although I did see some suits that had all that tummy control stuff in them, that I might need to do a little more research on before my next beach trip), because of all my other body issues. Which leads me to the...

Five Reasons I Didn't Bring a Bathing Suit to The Beach:

5. I feel fat. I swear, two weeks ago, I was a size 4. Now I feel like a size 14 (not that there is anything wrong with that!). But what the heck?!?!? How does that even happen? I had to go buy a bunch of sweats to wear over here because all of my other clothes were tight and I refuse to come to the beach and be uncomfortable in my own clothes. It's bad enough I'm uncomfortable in my own skin! {{Fatty Fatty 2x4...}}

4. I'm in a house full of super cute TEENAGE GIRLS. Why the heck would I want to go down on the beach with 4 super cute girls in their bathing suits, when I already feel fat. Their perky boobs, perky butts and trim tummies. Gag...they make me sick. And they're rude. I mean really....how rude of them to be cute teenage girls in bathing suits on the beach. Whatever.

3. My legs are so veiny. Waaahhhhhh!!!! I use to have amazing legs. OMGee, seriously...I have pictures of me from my bridal showers sitting in short dresses and my legs all the way up were absolutely amazing. No, really. I'm not just tooting my own horn (ok, maybe I am), but they were perfectly smooth and slim. A-MAZ-ZING. Well, those days are gone {{until I save up enough to have that laser vein removal done}} !

2. I'm white. I have no color. I take that back...I have some color...Orange, around my ankles and knees and the palms of my hands...from all the fake tan I was lathering on before we came over here!! Ugh...If I didn't have blue eyes and dark hair, I would think I was an albino.

...And the number one reason I didn't bring a suit....

1. Hair. Hair, hair everywhere. No, seriously. The fact that I have to shave from my toes to my neck and use 5 razors in the process is a real downer. And quite frankly, I can't afford it. Razors are expensive! And the last comment about me having dark hair wasn't just about my head. Nope. 'Nuf said.

I could have also mentioned something about my boobs hanging down to my belly button and stretch marks all over my hips and thighs, too, but I figured that was just overkill.

So, until I've saved up enough for my vein removal, fat removal and boob job, I'll stick to my sweats and tees and when I'm feeling really adventurous, I'll throw on a tank and pull up my pants. You. Are. Welcome.