This week thousands of children will be without constructive direction due to an annual vacation known as Spring Break. In the Doran household having the kids home for a week will provide a nice buffer between parents, Mike and Amy, and the demonMaggie.

Amy’s mother has joined the blogosphere. While she has had a blog for some time, she only recently began posting with any sort of regularity. Please note! Some visitors might have to be on their best behavior. As previously noted, Amy’s mother is a completely psychotic full-time substitute teacher. The latest episode is a perfect case in point.

In other news, a recent visitor to this site said there was some strange gateway page… Anybody? Joe? If no one else sees it then we can only assume her computer is screwing with her or she’s uh, a bit touched. :oops:

Finally, Miss Britt was out partying again last night. No boobs were flashed.

This has been your Friday update. Have a nice day and a pleasant weekend.

Amy's Musings Tales From An Anti-Soccer Mom  
March 30th, 2007
29
Mar

*Poof*

Ever had one of those days?

You know, the kind of day that makes you want to scream, “DO NOT TOUCH ME!!! DO NOT TALK TO ME!!! YOU MUST NOW STAY AT LEAST 10 FEET FROM ME AT ALL TIMES!!!!!!!”

One of those days when you think, “If I have to clean up one more mess, my head is going to explode. If I have to deal with one more complete moron, I am going to spontaneously combust.”

Then someone starts talking to you and you sort of imagine yourself turning shades of red, purple, black and then finally *poof* nothing left but shoes and bits of toenail polish.

No? Just me, huh?

Hmmm. I’m working on a collection of Voo Doo dolls, I sure hope they work. :twisted:

It’s probably PMS but I swear I’m completely sucking at making the blog ’rounds. And, I’m completely sucking at replying to emails - so if you’ve emailed, just know, it’s not personal - I suck. I’ll get back to you. As it is I’m a short hair away from a meme post. :roll:

Amy's Musings Tales From An Anti-Soccer Mom  
March 29th, 2007

Ok, so I got reviewed. 3 out of 5 smacks. Not too shabby, I know. It wasn’t all hugs and smooches, obviously. :D Avi has repeatedly tried to convince me that this was a good review. I really should accentuate the positive and elimInate the negative and all that other happy crappy. I’ll give that a try. Tomorrow. If you haven’t yet, you should read the review and then read the comments - talk about an ego boost, even if one of the comments is from my self-proclaimed #1 fan (only about 10 degrees off of that creepy Stephen King version). :shock:

Seems like most people agree my stuff is funny. I think it’s all sunshine and puppy dog funny though, maybe with a slight edge. I’ve got dark funny and the devil on my shoulder (aka Avitable) is still trying to sway me to the dark side. If I had an evil twin it would be Avi and he would wear the badge proudly because he’s a pretty cool dude like that.

Letting out the dark funny is a mixed bag. Most of my stories involve my mother, sister, or long-deceased grandmother. My mother could hit this blog on the wrong day, find a story like that and either hit me with a comment correcting the story or nuke my ass entirely. She’s a full-time substitute teacher with what is becoming a nearly psychotic edge and I’ve decided unless it really suits me that I’m not going to cross her. Today anyway.

But, let’s face it, eventually blogger’s block is going to strike with a fury and I’m going to have to reach into the family closet and start pulling out the skeletons.

Mom, consider this your notice. It could happen any damn time. :P

PS: Yes, Avi, I changed the damn header, ok, I caved. Not entirely… but slightly, I admit it. Sue me… *awkward pause* er… wait. Nevermind.

PSx2: Now, go visit Avi the Magnificent at his new virtual abode Avitopia or some crap like that. I might have had a hand in its’ creation… maybe www.avitable.com

Amy's Musings Tales From An Anti-Soccer Mom  
March 28th, 2007

We received an appraisal request only to find out that it was for a house being purchased by one of our old friends, Fed.

Only Fed is now Eric. The nickname of long ago now put aside along with youth, piercings, and the occasional tattoo. He’s now a married man, for quite some time, and stepfather to a 16 and soon-to-be 18 year old, in the middle of a new home purchase.

I always swore that Fed could have been a standup comedian, in true Fed form he joked about the upcoming 18th birthday in his house, “I keep telling him that he’s getting luggage and a u-haul.” Eh, not quite the old Fed snap, but funny, in an “I’m older and responsible now” kind of way.

This wasn’t the same Fed who laughed even though he was equally as hungover as I was when I stomped into the room on July 5th to find him, Mike, and a couple of other friends debating whether or not to finish off the 4th of July keg. “Well, if it isn’t Little Miss 10 Foot Tall and Bullet Proof,” he had said with a weak laugh.

As Mike put it, “Sometimes, catching up with an old friend isn’t as much fun as it sounds.”

Fed joked about sitting on the side of the bank with me while Mike ran to get the car. I kept asking how bad my foot was and he kept saying it was just fine, all the while trying not to puke at the odd angle to which my foot was twisted. His version of that fishing trip is far more funny than mine.

Maybe Mike was right. Getting older is better than the alternative, but it doesn’t make you miss the things that once were any less. Well, depending on what those things were, I suppose.

** Private post in the backroom… log in if you feel like it!

Amy's Musings Tales From An Anti-Soccer Mom  
March 27th, 2007

Ethan was supposed to run in the Varsity Men 1600 for an invitational track meet on Saturday.

He didn’t.

He learned the hard way that you do not mix cold medication (cough suppressant / expectorant) with a 5 Hour Energy drink. Pfft. Dumbass.

He was sort of talking in run on sentences that made no sense and was rather dazed. The only thing I could make out was, “But, I really want to run! That’s what I DO!”

We left the meet, took him to get something to eat (he ate 5 Carne Asada tacos) and returned him (nearly completely improved) to the meet.

The team seems to have hit a rough spot because we have runners falling out left and right. T. (a Senior, Team Captain, and one of Ethan’s close friends, and the distributer of nicknames that apparently last a lifetime but does not have one himself) jumped into the lake that they run to almost every day last Thursday. When he came out he said he had hurt his little toe.

That was an understatement. He broke it back in his foot behind the joint. T. is out for two weeks and is on Vicodin. That makes for a pretty funny T. from what I hear. Seal (another senior and yes, that’s a nickname) is the son of a local veterinarian. He attempted to look at T.’s toe. The conversation went a little like:

“DON’T TOUCH IT!!!!!”

“Just let me look at it, it looks like it’s broken.”

“DON’T TOUCH IT! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE ALL TOUCHIN’ ME, SEAL?!?!?!?!”

“DON’T TOUCH IT!!!!!”

These are some of the hardest training young men I’ve ever seen. They work their asses off and apparently the only thing it doesn’t do is prevent them from acting like typical men when they get hurt.

Ethan fell while at practice (ran through a water puddle and slid) he was back up quickly (bleeding but still running) and as he hopped back up Seal ran by him and yelled, “Nice one, Freshie!!!” and kept running.

———–

Saturday night we left Ethan with the kids (all three unmedicated) and went out to a local mexican restaurant for Purple Cadillac margaritas. (Ok, I had 2 and mike had a draft beer)

I was going to drunk dial Miss Britt because I totally owe her for the laugh on Thursday night. But, I didn’t because we went right home and I fell asleep. Come to think of it, I think I forgot to take my birth control pill and my Lexapro. Fabulous.

How was your weekend?

Amy's Musings Tales From An Anti-Soccer Mom  
March 26th, 2007

Me: Come here.

Mike: (on his way to the uh-hem… library) Nooooooo…

Me: Awww, come on, I just wanted a kiss…

Mike: I have to kiss you before I go to the bathroom now? (doing Elvis impersonation complete with uh… karate stance) Whassa matta, Momma, you think I’m gonna go off to the crapper and pull a King? Not come back? Go out with a magazine and beer in the quietest place in the house? That what you thinkin’?

*kissing me*

Mike: (resuming Elvis impersonation) Man go out like that… he go out a happy man.

:roll:

———–

*Dedication*
Ok, remember when you were in junior high and you’d call into the local radio station to dedicate a song to that special someone?

This one is going out to my favorite Thursday night party girl… ;)

Amy's Musings Tales From An Anti-Soccer Mom  
March 23rd, 2007

Ok, the next installment of my revealing posts is up. Log in to read it. If by some chance you cannot see it, email me at amy AT amysmusings DOT com :D

I read this meme at Bluepaintred. (love her, she’s HILARIOUS!) Avi emailed it to me and suggested that I do it (and he claims he doesn’t tag people. That’s a lawyer for you, always playing on technicalities, loopholes, and semantics.) I’m not sure if he was interested in my answers or desiring to see me humiliate myself. Probably both, and boy, isn’t he going to be disappointed with my answers…

1. HAVE YOU GOTTEN LAID IN 2007? Absolutely.

2. EVER HAD SEX IN A PUBLIC PLACE? Ummm, yes. :D

3. EVER LAUGH DURING SEX? IF SO WHY? Yes. My husband likes to make dumb jokes occasionally… at the most inopportune time.

4. EVER CRY DURING SEX? IF SO WHY? Only if it doesn’t have a happy ending ;)

5. DO YOU LIKE TO CUDDLE AFTER SEX? Yep!

6. EVER REGRET SEX WITH SOMEONE? Oh boy do I.

7. EVER FAKED AN ORGASM? Only during my Sally impersonation.

8. DIRTY TALK, OR SHUT THE FUCK UP? I can go either way. :twisted:

9. EVER HAVE UNPROTECTED SEX? Three kids… ya think?

10. EVER MASTURBATE TO YOUR FRIEND’S SIGNIFICANT OTHER? Ummm, ick.

11. EVER HAVE A ONE NIGHT STAND? Nope. Well, wait, if it was on three different occasions, but with the same person, does it count?

12. EVER HAVE A THREESOME? Nope.

13. EVER WATCH PORN DURING SEX? I plead the 5th

14. EVER THOUGHT OF SOMEONE ELSE DURING SEX? No. Wait, let me revise that, yes, but never with Mike.

15. HAS THE CONDOM EVER BROKEN? No.

16. WHAT IS YOUR MOST EMBARRASSING SEXUAL EXPERIENCE? Sex while pregnant let’s leave it at that. And, then last week when my mom took Maggie for three hours and brought her back while Mike and I were upstairs, uh-hem. :oops:

17. HOW OLD WERE YOU WHEN YOU LOST YOUR VIRGINITY? 15

18. WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO HAVE SEX WITH RIGHT NOW? My husband. For 3 or 4 hours straight give or take 20 minutes.

19. DO YOU THINK THAT NUMBER 18 IS POSSIBLE? HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! :lol: :oops: Well, if there is one thing I have learned in marriage, it’s to have faith in miracles. :lol: So, uh, God or the Universe willing, if Maggie will just go to sleep in her OWN bed.

20. ARE YOU HORNY NOW? I was until I answered number 19

21. HOW MANY SEXUAL PARTNERS? Puh-leeeze, I don’t get enough time with ONE.

22. DO YOU LIKE SEX IN THE CAR? Sure, when I was 40 pounds lighter and 10+ years YOUNGER. I’m a married adult… sex in MY BEDROOM is one of the perks of that.

23. DO YOU STILL TALK TO THE PERSON YOU LOST VIRGINITY TO? Not if my life depended on it.

24. EVER HAVE SEX WITH A RELATIVE/FRIEND’S SIGNIFICANT OTHER? *blech*

25. EVER BEEN WITH A CHEATER? Probably.

26. TOYS, GOOD OR BAD. — HA! No question mark = no answer.

27. LINGERIE. Good five years ago, good next year. now? I am so boring. This meme was not meant to improve self-esteem was it?

28. EVER SLEEP WITH A CO-WORKER? Does my boss, the SlaveMaster, count? If so… hell yeah, every chance I get!!! Well, this said sleep… so I guess I should say, every night. Unless he pisses me off and I banish him to the couch.

29. WHERE HAVE YOU HAD SEX?
(x)park
()church
()cemetery
(x)beach
()boat
()school
()parent’s bed
(x)your bed
(x)car
()picnic table
()kitchen counter
(x)couch/chair
()dining room/kitchen table
(x)woods (open and/or in a tent)
()hood of a car
(x)bathroom
(x)shower
(x)bathtub
(x)the other person’s bed
(x)porch/deck/balcony
()in a house with parents home
()at a party
()on top of the washer/dryer
()with other people in the room
(x)hotel
()concert
()grandparent’s house
()field
()bleachers
()bookstore stock room.
(x) Linen closet

From Mike aka SlaveMaster:
“I had sex on a blogpost once, but I was by myself, does that count?”

So who’s brave enough?

After this humiliation… I’m taggin’ somebody.

Miss Britt - You’re up!

Crazy Lady
- You too!

Marti - Let us have it, I think we can take it.

Dawn aka Webmiztris - This should be good and guaranteed it will involve pot and something funny.

Ok, ladies, pony up.

Amy's Musings Tales From An Anti-Soccer Mom  
March 22nd, 2007

Yeah, yeah, I know. Lots of people have covered this thing we all do. We’ve all given our thoughts and reasons. And, there are more of us than not who must endure the strange looks and blank stares from friends and loved ones when they can’t possibly comprehend WHY we do what we do.

It’s difficult to believe that there are people who cannot imagine that friendships and trust can be built between people who have never even been able to shake hands. Yet, there are people here that I would trust more than many people I know “in real life.” As if this is some imaginary world we all escape to. :roll:

Britt and I were talking yesterday about how punctuation in blogging is completely different than the way we might write a letter, paper, etc. She calls it writing a stream of consciousness. I think I write more like the way I talk. I overuse and regularly abuse “…” she feels she abuses “-” everyone seems to have their own unique blog accent.

Britt mentioned that her husband read her blog and was surprised to find that it is very much an expression of who she really is.

:shock:

Of course. What else could it be? Granted it’s not the entire package, but it is a fairly accurate facet (most of the time) of our personality.

My husband doesn’t have a strong desire to blog. But, he supports (most of the time) my passion for it. Sometimes I feel a little hemmed in here… because I’m not anonymous and there are people who know me that read this blog. But, for the most part, it gives me something I don’t find anywhere else. I’m grateful for that.

In that vein, I’ve written a rather personal post. You’ll have to log in to read it, because I’m more comfortable with that arrangement. :D

Amy's Musings Tales From An Anti-Soccer Mom  
Posted in: Blogging, Personally
March 21st, 2007

Avi and I were having a conversation about how you never seem to have a video camera when the really funny stuff happens. I found out last night that there are times when the video Gods smile on you.

Ok, so it might not necessarily be something to be proud of and yet, I can’t help but grin, a lot! Maggie came up with her very own insult. “You baby diaper!!!” I decided that I wanted to capture this on video because I’m one of those parents.

What I ended up catching was even better, unless you are Mike, then not so much.


Photo Sharing - Upload Video - Video Sharing - Share Photos

You may recall that this is a little game that Ethan started, too bad I didn’t get her yelling, “Onward CHARGE!!!!”

Amy's Musings Tales From An Anti-Soccer Mom  
March 20th, 2007

(Updated! Added the morning after pic below)

Or a stumble and fall. Whichever you prefer.

I spent the weekend gardening, enjoying the warm temperatures, sunny weather, and frequent chats with my beloved Avi. I adore him you know… like a brother… a long-lost twin brother. Don’t let him fool you, he is that dark and twisted my friends.

So, let’s have a little lesson on Karma. Karma is a bitch. Karma doesn’t care if you donated to Jerry’s Kids when you went to the supermarket. Karma couldn’t care less if you gave that homeless guy $10 the other day. Karma is going to nail your ass like a drunk girl at the prom.

We were out in the yard, doing yard work in our lovely patch of dirt soon to be landscaped backyard. I was filling a new terracotta pot with purple cosmos and white freesia. Ethan was running back and forth as Mike and I were sharing him as our bitch assistant.

As things will go sometimes, I said something, Ethan said something and then I said something. Then Ethan shot me with the hose.

So, I finished up, cleaned up and went upstairs to bathe Maggie, shower, and help Kate straighten her hair. Then I saw it. The pitcher perched on the edge of the tub. It called to me, “Amy, let me avenge you, let me right the wrongs done to you this afternoon, I beg of you.”

And, I thought, “Oh, why the hell not!”

I filled my oh-so friendly pitcher with cold water and stepped out into the early evening breeze on the deck. Ethan stood just below me helping his father. With one swift movement the pitcher, as if by magic, tipped and dumped it’s entire contents directly on to my son’s head with a delightful plop and splash.

He stood there stunned, his aviator sunglasses lying on the ground at his feet. His shirt soaked and his hair dripping. It was truly a sight to behold. I laughed until tears wet the corners of my eyes and then I hopped into the shower.

After going through all the beauty rituals one most go through and then repeating a shorter version of those rituals with both girls, I made my way downstairs to have dinner with my family.

The stairs were dark and feeling that I knew my way about as one might know the back of one’s hand, I neglected to turn on the light. With Maggie behind me I came down the first set of stairs to the first landing, turned and started down the next set.

This is where things went slightly awry.

Believing my next step to be the second landing, I missed the last step and yelped, nay, screeched as my large toe turned under, my ankle twisting slightly, and I landed in a heap on the second landing.

“Wow, Mom, you should really learn to take those stairs more slowly.” Ethan said.

If looks could kill the boy’s face might very well have melted off ala the Nazis at the end of Indiana Jones and The Lost Ark.

“Shove it.” I growled fighting back tears.

Kate (apparently, the smarter of the two this evening) flipped the light on to survey the damage.

My toe was swelling and beginning to bruise and blood poured rapidly from the where the skin had torn under the tension of the toe being twisted and bent beneath itself and my foot.

This was also the same foot that I had nearly destroyed during an eventful fishing trip. *click that link for that story, it’s worth it, even if it makes me wince reading it.

Apparently, my right leg is out to kill me. I swear, I’ve never done anything to it but shave it lovingly and take it out for the occasional pedicure.

Mike brought me ice, advil, and a midori margarita and with a happy, numb, buzz I limped my way to my computer so I could bring you the entire incident including pictures. Rest assured, dear friends, that they do not do the injury justice. Not in the least, because as I type this the combination of advil and booze is starting to wear off and throbbing is beginning again. I bet this thing will be black and blue by morning.

A close up
Click to enlarge.

A comparative

The Update:
The morning after
The morning after.

As I typed this Mike started to look for me and when he found me here he yelled, “What the hell do you think you are doing? That should be elevated with ICE!!!” But, being the wonderful husband that he is, he paused and said, “Are you working on your post for tomorrow? Oh… ok. Don’t take very long and don’t make it very depressing!”

I love him. He even offered to sleep in the family room with me if I couldn’t make it up the stairs. Did I mention I love him? Oh my, I think I’ve had too many margaritas.

Broken

Amy's Musings Tales From An Anti-Soccer Mom  
March 19th, 2007