Since I’ve been so busy working and Plurking doing housework, I’ve been neglecting my award-winning writing abilities on my blog.

But, since this is my friggin blog, I’m doing what I want with it, sucka.

Here’s a gem of a video from this weekend:

I’m becoming a photo blogger. Thanks, Plurk, you bitch.

I’m up for a challenge, and since I take 157 billion pictures, this one’s a breeze.

OHMommy at Classy Chaos has challenged her loyal readers to take and post pictures of heads.

Simple enough for me since my girls are tired of smiling for the camera, and all I seem to get these days are the sides or backs of their heads.

beach head

1-day-old baby head

pouting head

kid heads

ARE YOU KIDDING ME with this golf outfit?

Tomorrow begins week two of no kiddie school. Why not Monday? Cause Mama got smart and went to the grandparent’s to entertain us.

When Mama decided to stay home with the kiddies, I thought that would entail easy days of cleaning, parenting, and shopping with the kiddos. Mama learned REAAAALLLY quickly, it ain’t that easy. Mama gets bored REALLY easily. Who knew?

After 3 long months of kiddies all by my lonesome, I started an internet business out of sheer dumb luck, so that borne something for me to do during nap time.

Fast-forward 18 months, and Mama is OVERLOADED by my website and all that goes with it. No complaints here (other than the slow-down in business thanks to the Bush admin - fuckers). Since the start of the biz and Anna’s need for social interaction, the kiddies have been in a part-time daycare.

Mama likes when my girls are in part-time daycare. Mama loves my girls, but I need a break for Jeebus sake.

But the kiddies part-time daycare decided to take a 2-week break for summer.

Oh, Mama.

What am I to do with these two toddlers? One is 2 1/2 and one is almost 4. What the crap will I do with them for the next 4 days with little cashola?

Any ideas?

Any offers??

Any takers???

Nearly every morning waking up to my 2 year old yawn in my ear then suck on her paci.

Best.

Sound.

In.

The.

World.

Makes nearly every part of mamahood worth it.

I’ve learned from Oprah and Jeebus that by putting things “out there” to the world and letting things be known what you want, you will get it. According to The Secret some, this can mean a bike, a lovah, or money, so I’m putting it all out there.

Mama wants needs a lake house.

Not a house on a retention pond made from dirt and rain runoff water. A real lake house. One that I can take my imaginary SeaDoo out on, float in the clean freshwater, and enjoy my Mandarin Madras served to me by my houseboy while sitting on my dock.

My lake house would come equipt with a hammock. I’d gladly supply it if no one else buys me one need be.

My girls would enjoy it as well. They’d even cry and cry just to stay away from the water, so I’d never worry that they’d be eaten by alligators fall in the water.

I’ll even make them do a dance of joy for the lake house.

My girls’ eyes match the color of the water, so it’s fate that I should have a lake house.

HockeyMan has a new passion: the jet ski. To save money on storage and gas driving to and from the lake, we need the lake house to keep our jet ski ready and waiting and calling my name.

Just think of all of the science I could teach my girls! It’s an educational right that they be raised in a home with alligators nature around them. As for now in our current home, the only nature they see is the bastard sugar ants that invade our house every summer. That’s just not fair. They need to learn by actually living among alligators nature.

Our family could use the lake house as the perfect vacation place to get away and enjoy being with one another. Just see all the fun my dad had helping pushing my Grandma in the water on her 75th birthday. That’s quality family-time that would go un-wasted.

So, please world, Oprah, and Jeebus, show me the way to getting my lake house. I’ve found a few that are well out of range of my non-existent price range, but anything can happen, right? Mama can live her dream of living among alligators nature. I live in GD Florida for Jeebus sakes! I need to live the lifestyle instead of a non-descript HOA-limiting cookie-cutter Pleasantville house.

Mama needs it. Mama needs it bad.

Today was a weather day we Floridians hold over you Northerner’s head. Beautiful, not a cloud in the sky, and high in the upper 80s. On top of that, it was a holiday. The rest of the country is finally catching up to our warm weather, so you can’t be too jealous, but I can still gloat.

A perfect day to go bowling. Mama loves inside sports.

The whole damn family heads down to a new fancy schmancy bowling alley/pub/arcade/restaurant to meet up w/ my sis and her husband (aka FratBoy).

I, with my athletic prowess, bowl an impressive 155 combined two-game score.

Sis, with her excellent athletic skills, bowls a mind-boggling 145 combined two-game score.

The mens hold a pissing-contest bowl over 200 each combined two-game score! During the pissing contest two games of bowling, the two mens talk about joining a bowling league.

Here is the actual transcript of the conversations:

HockeyMan: “Hey, man, ten a few years ago, I was in a bowling league. Man, it was awesome! Drink beer, bowl, compare peen sizes, and get away from the women-folk!”

FratBoy: “Hey, man, that sounds like fun! We should totally join a weekly pissing contest bowling league! Check that out for us! I’m in!”

HockeyMan: “Yeah, man, I’m totally in! That’d be awesome! But you know what sucks is when people take leagues seriously. You know, get all serious and shit.”

FratBoy: “Yeah, man, it’s all about having a good time, comparing peen sizes and drinking beer. It’s all about fun, right!”

Flash forward 90 minutes.

Me: “Hey, guys! They do have leagues. Look! They have three nights to choose from and even have mixed leagues!”

HockeyMan: “Hey, man, that’s great! Check it out, FratBoy - we just need to find 2 other people, but we have to find at least one girl, too.”

Me: “That’s perfect! You two, and us two! That’s two girls and two guys! Perfect!”

HockeyMan & FratBoy in unison: “We can’t have you on our team - you guys SUCK.”

You can catch me at home on Monday nights barefoot and pregnant dutifully baking cookies awaiting my man’s arrival with a fresh roast on the table.

That dream is to come home to a clean house. Every toy put away, the dishes done, floors vacuumed, bathrooms cleaned, and shelves dusted. Along with that dream, kid 1 & kid 2 are watched after, entertained, fed, and alive when I get home.

Attaining that dream comes two options:

1. Have my mom come down and “guide” me into the right direction on how to life my best life. This includes “sighs,” words of encouragement on how, “if you just start out with it clean, it’s much easier to keep it that way,” and ideas on how to de-pacify my pacifier-addicted, kid 2. This option is monetarily free, however, comes with feelings of guilt, uncleanliness tension, and hours upon hours of mom advice. Unfortunately, this option is no longer an option due to the fact that my mom does not stay at my house any longer because apparently, my sister has a real guest bedroom and does not decorate with cardboard boxes, and sleeping on a real bed is more comfortable than a fold-out couch that’s next to my dog’s cage.

2. Pay my housekeeper an extra $40 to come over in the evening rather than the morning. This option includes sleeping in really late (like 11am late), lazing around all day, and prettying myself up to go out for the evening.

Much to my delight, option #2 came true tonight.

I am one happy, happy Mama.

Dreams really do come true. The power of positive thinking.