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Monday, September 20, 2010

Have You Been Wondering Why I Haven't Posted for Over a Week?

Well, I really have posted, you just couldn't see them.

It came to my attention last week that not everyone knows yet that I moved over to most of y'all won't have to do a thing since the website address didn't really change, but those of you who haven't seen the Screwed Up Texan feed update for over a week will need to update the new feed in your reader. You can resubscribe by going to and clicking the "r" in the Texas images on the right that spell...wait for it..."fart". I'm so clever ain't I?

Questions? Email me. You can do that clicking the "@" in "fart".

In the meantime, we're working on a fix to get everyone pulled over to the new feed automatically. This may take another week since I am feed challenged. Which really stinks.

But not literally like farts.

Now go check out all the new posts on Screwed Up Texan!

(Anyone have any idea why my husband claims I'm not very lady like?)

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Wednesday Rambles: Yes, I realize it's Thursday

Stormy Clouds

Taken in June 2010 in front of my home the same day we got back from vacation.

Here's to another round of Wednesday Rambles created by Crazy Texas Mommy! Yes, I realize it is now Thursday, but we can't go two weeks without some random bits of real life now can we? Maybe we can. At any rate, here is my Wednesday Rambles, posted on Thursday. Be sure to check out more random goodness by clicking the link up at the bottom or add your own Wednesday Rambles to it!

  • Saturday, my five-year-old melted and burned one of his hotwheels while hiding upstairs with a lighter.
  • If you've read My Kids Will Catch Your Kids on Fire, then you know I am rightly concerned.
  • On Monday evening, he lit his hair on fire.
  • Forget about your kids.
  • I have no idea where he's finding the lighters.
  • All I know is that every time I smell barbecue I freak out.
  • Since I live in Texas, you can guess how often that is.
  • My two brothers-in-law are supposed to leave Utah today to start their drive to moving in with us.
  • The Mother Trucker called yesterday afternoon while on the big rig in North Texas to see if we were flooded from Hermine.
  • We were not flooded. Unfortunately, not everyone in my town fared so well. Thanks for WhosPlayin for the video:
  • Apparently, there were also tornadoes.
  • That weatherman is hot.
  • The Mother Trucker also called to tell us that she didn't think her sons were ready to move.
  • Her sons are taking hitchhikers from Price, Utah to San Antonio, Texas before they get here.
  • I also found out they're bringing a cat.
  • Lily is going to love the cat.
  • Lily is my Yorkie.
  • By love, I mean eat.
  • Why no one told me about the cat is beyond me. My husband swears up and down he told me, but I think he is lying.
  • My husband is the one that wanted me to get rid of my cat when we were first married. Jerk.

Now join in with your own bits of randomness by clicking the link below and following the instructions! I would love to read what you have to say!

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Wednesday, September 8, 2010

A Woman Never Forgets

Jess Going Down a Slide

Brother-in-law Playing

It's almost official: Two of my brothers-in-law are moving in with us this weekend. I'm nervous about having anyone live with us for several reasons, and surprisingly the number one reason has nothing to do with my roudy boys. The number one reason I am nervous about my husband's brothers moving into our home has to do with the fact that nearly ten years ago when my husband and I first got married we lived with his parents which turned out to be the biggest mistake in our newlywed lives. Mostly because of the Mother Trucker.

You see, my husband, in his infinite wisdom, decided it would be a great idea to go camping with his friends three days after we got married without A.) asking me if I wanted to go, and B.) not telling me he was going. Instead, I found myself all alone in his parent's home in The Middle of Nowhere (aka Hanna), Wyoming with only his mom to keep me entertained. And if you know my mother-in-law, then you know it was not very entertaining.

When he got back two days later I was fuming that he had left me and not told me he was even going. We had our first spat while being married. We yelled at each other and I really let into him about how I felt about being left alone with his parents. I ended up having to cool off in his dad's workshop up in the attic.

Eventually, my husband came up and apologized to me. I ended up apologizing for getting so angry with him and we made up. I then thought that the most appropriate thing to do was to apologize to my in-laws for arguing in their home and causing discontent. Because I was taught that asking for forgiveness is Christ-like.

And if asking for forgiveness is Christ-like then my mother-in-law is the devil. Like most women, I remember the conversation like it was yesterday:

Me: "I want to apologize for yelling in your home and causing discontent. We really shouldn't have gotten carried away like that."

LOOONGEST pause of my life.

Her: "Well, if I were my son then I would get my marriage annulled right now."

That's right, not one week into being married and my husband's mother trucker was already rooting for our divorce.

Which is why I was the happiest gal on the planet when she and her husband got a divorce seven years later. Because karma's a beach. I'm passive aggressive. And women never forget.

(My husband is slowly learning that last one.)

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Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Just Call Me Plumber Jane


We spent our Labor Day weekend laboring. Or working, rather. Because when I type "laboring" I think about being pregnant and quite frankly the thought of having another child of my own scares the bejeezus out of me.

We decided to spend our holiday weekend working in order to get a few neglected items fixed before my husband's brothers move in with us later this week. I'm still not sure if I should believe that they are definitely moving in...I mean, you never know with these two guys or anyone else to that matter, but they are a great reason to get new doors on bedrooms and a long neglected toilet unclogged.

But that's when the real drama began--as soon as my husband took the clogged toilet and set it on the front yard lawn.


It seems like there is an endless list of things to fix in our home thanks to the kids. This is the downside to being a homeowner. And to having kids.

The number one thing we have issues with? The commode. Whether it's our boys flushing hippie buses down the toilet or just too much fiber in their diet for the last two years at least one of our toilets has been off-limits at all times here. For the last six months it's been the guest bathroom. The culprit? An outdoor faucet splitter jammed deep inside the porcelain god's plumbing. I'm thinking we should do as that one commercial goes and buy a Kohler.

So my husband went at it with plungers, a water hose, a wooden stick, and lots and lots of cussing. After two hours of it, I finally had enough. I braved the poop trap and stuck my double jointed hand and fingers deep inside and retrieved the splitter in about fifteen seconds. Friends, I saved the day. Oh and anyone else from having to hear my husband have a temper tantrum on our front lawn.

You see, there really is a good thing about female plumbers: skinny hands. And no plumber's crack.

PS: Winner of The Rusted Chain give away has been selected by and has been contacted! As always, that person has three days to contact me or another winner will be chosen. Thank you to all who entered the give away--y'all made my day!

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Friday, September 3, 2010

Airport Insecurity - Letters from an Anonymous Friend


I hate airports. Airports to me as a kid meant having to move because I had no choice and had to follow adult rules. Airports to me now as an adult mean arriving at a place I don't want to be at three hours in advance, removing my clothing and shoes in annoying lines, crappy handfuls of peanuts, aggravating seatmates, and airlines that nickle and dime with stupid rules about luggage. Basically I hate rules. I'm a non-conformist. In short, I'd rather take a road trip with my screaming kids. And here's another reason I hate airport rules, as reminded in a letter from my anonymous friend written in an email to me after she took a trip to Mexico to celebrate a friend's quinceanera (aka big fifteenth birthday party):

On a recent trip to Mexico, my mother and I decided to take only carry-on bags to make our life easier on our whirlwind 5 day jaunt to the south. As a minimalist while traveling, I packed only clothes, my journal, scriptures, very few pieces of jewelry and the necessary toiletries. After some debate, I found a small generic soft plastic bottle (the kind you can get in the dollar section at Target) and filled it with the limit of 3 oz. of hair gel. If they let it pass, great; if not, no big loss. The sharpest thing in my bag, besides a pen, was my 100% plastic hair pick.

Guess which item they confiscated at the airport? Yep, the gel, even though the security officer asked me before my bag went through the X-ray if I had anything to be concerned about; when I said, “I have a little bit of hair gel,” he waved it aside as if to say, “Give me a real concern.” Three minutes later, he threw it away. Go figure. Oh well.

I met my mom at the airport (she flew in from another city) and we were off!

At one point during our humble stay in the Yucatán, I thought out loud and said, “I can’t wait to get home and get some tweezers on these brows.” And do you know what my mom said? She said, “Oh, I brought mine. They’re in my bag.”

Maybe I don’t understand the rules for carry-on luggage well enough (after all, I had the audacity to try and smuggle 3 oz. of hair gel on board), but I was under the impression that sharp items weren’t allowed. Of course, tweezers weren’t exactly in the form of a knife or anything, but if you saw her industrialized pluckers you might change your mind! And it gets even better- as I was searching for her tweezers, I found a dental pick. Yes, that’s right, a dental pick, the kind the dentists use to scrape plaque off your teeth. Oh, and what’s more, she had two 6 oz. bottles of face lotion (one with SPF included, one without) in the zipped portion of her carry-on.


How did she get through security with those! In two American airports! (Man, I guess
that hair gel was more dangerous than I thought.)

Clearly, I am missing something here. Oh well. Whatever.

We flew out of Cancún and they did pause when they found her tweezers, though they
ended up letting it pass.

When we passed through Mexico City on a layover… that’s when I thought everything would finally be taken away. After disembarking the plane from Cancún, we went through a brief X-ray security and passed with no problem. When we went through a manual check before boarding our next plane… well, that was an adventure.

They rifled through my mom’s stuffed carry-on and asked her questions (I had to translate as she is 100% gringa) about the lotion; she said that they could keep it if they wanted. I tried to stay with her, but other airport security was directing me to move on, so I did. They went through my stuff and took away my barely touched water bottle that I had bought in the Mexico City airport (grrr!), but left everything else alone.

I walked down the glass walled hallway enough to be out of everyone’s way and then
turned around and watched the Mexican police try and communicate with my mother who was limited to, “No Español,” and numbers 1-10. I don’t know how, but they let her go without taking a single thing. Not the tweezers nor the dental pick (they didn’t even find those, they were buried under all her stuff), not even the 2 bottles of lotion. But they did do a full body search (every passenger got that privilege) and patted down her sandals before letting her pass. They did, however, zip tie her luggage shut.

So, the moral of the story is to pack your carry on until it bursts and then pretend not to speak the language. Then again, we did see a Mexican guy on the plane who somehow smuggled his Subway sandwich and water bottle…

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