Workin' At The Carwash

So. I went on the interview. After a forty minute interrogation about what I thought my biggest strengths and weakness' were and where I see myself in five years; I was offered the job on the spot. Of course I was, I'm Cici!

Truth be told, I have never gone to an interview and NOT been offered the job. I guess I have great interviewing skills?

So, I was offered the job and asked when I could start. I hemmed and hawed a bit here, and explained that my current child care arrangements or lack thereof were an issue.

It will be August before Lauren starts school and Anthony is allowed behind the locked doors of the WABTY* school.

No problem! We'll wait for you, we want you that much! Ok. So August 27th is my first day. How awesome is THAT? I just got eight weeks of vacation and I haven't even STARTED yet.

To add salt to margarita- the BASE salary is more than enough to satisfy me. And let us not forget monthly bonuses, etc. Funny, I was concerned about re-joining the work force somewhere around my LAST salary ( which was six years ago) and I was just given a FIFTY percent raise! Gotta love inflation.

So, there you have it folks, I will be a working class stiff in 2 months. I hope to keep up on this blog, as it's very therapeutic for me to get it all out.

So..what is annoying me today?

Anne Coulter, The Immigration Bill and snot.

Anne Coulter- Let me go on record here. I admire her moxie. She is a self-centered, arrogant bitch who has diarrhea of her oral orifice, and I LOVE IT. I am, quite possibly the POLAR opposite of Ms.Coulter when it comes to political, well, almost every view. She is an ultra-conservative right wing Republican, and I disagree with most everything she says. BUT, I do admire her big balls. In case you hadn't noticed, I speak my mind pretty freely, too. I call them as I see them, and say WHAT I want, about WHOM I want. Isn't America wonderful?

The Immigration Bill. I have two very different opinions on this subject. My first knee-jerk reaction is send them all back. Why should I pay taxes so THEY can have free medical care, tax free wages, and drivers licenses? If you sneak into MY Country in the dark of night illegally, you should be sent to prison, just like anyone who breaks the law here, not given rewards for your behavior.

On the other side. I live in Florida. If we send all of them back, I will starve to death. SOMEONE has to pick the fruits and vegetables.

So here is MY solution. Let them stay- but send them to Iraq. If you want to be a member of this country so badly, then show us you are willing to DIE for it. Serve a tour of duty, and when you return, we will place you in a job, and tax your wages.

Problem solved.

Next.

Snot- Why do kids makes so much of it? Every time I look at my neighbor's kid, he is either picking, wiping, rolling, flicking or eating. I am grossed out. Enough already!

Oh yeah! I wanted to touch quickly on a comment that ANONYMOUS left for my parents cruise post. I am sorry your dad died, you surely miss him terribly. I am sorry that he got cold hard stares for coughing his way across the country on his last trip. But, if you have been reading my blog for any amount of time you know that I am an equal opportunity offender. I offend everyone at some point- hell- I just offended about four different classes in this ONE post.

My post was not meant to harm YOU- I don't even KNOW someone named Anonymous!

Joey and I are taking the kids over to Orlando for the weekend. Disney in the summer with two kids- sadists, that's what we are.

Have a great weekend!

* We are better than you

Filling In The Pieces

Most of you reading this know me in real life. You KNOW why I am like I am. For those of you unlucky enough to say you KNOW me, allow me to introduce reason number ONE for my self-indulgent, self-centered, egotistical beautiful self. It's called genetics.

I just got off the phone with my mom. My parents returned from a 10 day Alaskan cruise yesterday. Of course, my mother is now sick. She complained of fever, chills, flu-like symptoms and nausea. I have diagnosed her-via telephone-with the Norwalk virus. When discussing her prognosis and plan of care, she mentioned how she contracted this horrible illness.

"It was that bitch behind me at Bingo!" She declared. "She was coughing up a lung! Every time she went into a coughing fit, I would turn around and glare at her like 'HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOO!.'"

Damn. I love this woman.

She gave me life, she gave me my stunning good looks and knock-out figure. And she gave me the belief that I am more important than ANYONE else.

I asked my mom if she had pondered the fact that she flew on TWO airplanes, which are basically pressurized tubes of germs; been on TWO trains, and then a SHIP FULL of people. I also reminded her that cruise ships are NOTORIOUS for giving people illness.

"Well, yes, but...it was that damn lady. Cough Cough, Sneeze! Why did she have to sit BEHIND people? If she REALLY had to play Bingo!, she could have sat in a corner!"

THIS is why I am like I am. We ARE better than everyone else. If you are sick, cancel your trip, or if you are selfish enough to still come, then at least stay in your cabin. If you MUST exit your cabin, PLEASE sit in the corner. WE do not want YOUR germs.

It's a good thing I wasn't there. While Ms. Germs thought she was getting an evil eye from my mother, she would have gotten more than a 'HEEELLLLLLLLOOOOO' from me. I would have stood up, declared her unfit for travel and demanded her immediate removal from the ship. This would have been followed up by me demanding an entire DE-lousing of the vessel, a full refund of my trip AND a free cruise anywhere in the world for me and three friends. Again, those that KNOW me can attest to the fact that my demands would have been met.

Back in the day, my mother was quite the pot stirrer as well. She taught me the best she could, molded me into a perfect demanding woman, and then bailed on me. She hit menopause. Suddenly, she was a little less demanding, and a little kinder. Without the hormonal imbalance pulsing through her veins, she actually engaged her brain before opening her mouth.

What a sell out.

Lauren likes to play dress-up and be a princess. The other day she said to me, "Mommy, I am the princess, and you are the queen." I gently reminded her.."No, dear,GRANDMA is the queen, I am merely an heir to the throne."

Beluga Caviar and Cucumber Sandwiches For Lunch, Too!

Is it any wonder I thrive on drama?

JESUS F.- My life is BORING.

The only light in my life right now is that July 5th is just around the corner. The guilty summer pleasure that is Big Brother premieres that evening.

So, what is new in CiciLand?

Well, we opened the castle with smashing success. Slowly but surely, it will catch on more.

I have a job interview on Thursday morning! More like a 'let us make sure you don't have three breasts' meeting. I was all but offered the job already- so assuming I like the locale and the firm, I just may be on someones payroll again.

It's been a long time since I worked outside of my house. Do they still use carbon paper to make copies in offices? What about the smoking room in the office? Is RAVE hairspray still the spray of choice? And can I bring my OWN cassette tapes to listen to at my desk? And, is it still PC to call the janitor 'the colored man that mops?' can we even CALL him a janitor anymore? Probably not- he's likely the ground covering sanitation engineer. (In case you were wondering- NO- I am NOT working for the NAACP.)

I DID tell the VP that I could not start until the last week of August, since Lauren will start Kindergarten and Anthony will be able to start attending the DisgustinglyExpenseAndSnottyButIFYourChildAttendsHereHeISGuaranteedAdmissionToHarvard Day school. The last Monday in August is the first day he can attend, as is it will take the rest of the summer for us to legally change his name to Preston J. Cummings the third.

In all seriousness, the school IS disgustingly expense. A little North of $1350 a month- but every teacher is accredited and has either a B.A or M.A in Early Childhood education. I am willing to pay a premium to know that little Preston will be attending such a fine establishment. My other choices were the local KinderCare and Kids 'R Kids- where all of the teachers are guaranteed to be crime free for the last two years, and have completed high school, or at the VERY least passed the state equivalency program. No thanks.

So, keep your crossables crossed for me. It will sure be nice to have a reason to brush my hair every single day. And, the paycheck will be nice- and consistent, something I couldn't count on working from home.

I told Joey I want my housekeeper to come WEEKLY once I start, and to start packing, because with this new paycheck, we are moving to a bigger house for her to clean.

Have a great Tuesday!

Je déteste les gens

A décidé d'écrire dans aujourd'hui français. Si vous comprenez ceci, s'il vous plaît partir un commentaire.
Les gens qui ne comprennent pas si seront ennuyés. Ils penseront que ceci est important.

J'aime les chiens Chauds, la Tourte aux pommes et français Frisent !

J'aime savoir une autre langue !

Cici

The Humanity!

19 year old mother taped pacifier to baby's face- Causing death.

This story popped up on one of my boards, and I was going to reply THERE, but decided the things I had to say would probably cause quite a stir over there. So, here is MY opinion on this whole thing. As always, Uncensored.


What a needless, senseless tragedy.

The 19 year old mother should be given the death penalty, not 8.5 years.

What kind of MORON would tape a pacifier into a child's mouth?? Obviously THAT kind of moron.

Stupid people should not be allowed to breed.

Do you know that in my state, you need a license to catch a FISH or own a DOG, but any person with healthy reproductive organs can have a child??? How ridiculous is THAT?

Yeah, Yeah, I know. The Government has no right to tell anyone what they can and cannot do with their bodies, including forbidding stupid people to reproduce; but when will it end?

I will now state MY not-so-democratic-solution to this problem. REFUSE to give these morons assistance if they continue to breed. Don't want to work? Ok. Rather sit on your fat ass and watch Maury Povich reveal the names of baby daddies? Cool. Want to fuck like rabbits and have MORE babies? Your business. Want US to pay for your milk, eggs, rent and diapers? I think not.

I digress. Back to Mother Of The Year.

Someone on the board asked where the baby's Grandmother was in this situation.
That's a bit far fetched, I think. Who knows if there even IS a grandmother?
History repeats itself, and something inside of me thinks this girl did not grow up in Beverley Hills with attentive, loving, involved parents. More likely, her mother is a moron herself.

Am I being a profiling, stereo-typical bitch? Yep. But if the shoe fits....

I was raised to believe marriage comes FIRST, THEN babies. Why? Because a GOOD marriage and all the work that comes with making it work, brings maturity and stability. One learns things during that period, like how to fix a drain, or pay a bill, or, I don't now, how to calm a baby without tying PAJAMAS around his body and taping a pacifier to his face!

Yes, I know there are plenty of women out there that had babies out of wedlock and did not go on to kill their children.

I also know there are plenty of nineteen year old morons who can't even bag my groceries without putting the eggs ON TOP of the bread.

What's my point? I don't really know. I just needed to vent.

I hate people.

Application For Permission To Date My Daughter

NOTE: This application will be incomplete and rejected unless accompanied by a complete financial statement, history, lineage, recent FBI background check, psychiatric evaluation, and updated medical report from your doctor.

NAME:_________________________________
DATE OF BIRTH:_____________________
HEIGHT:___________ WEIGHT:____________ I.Q.__________ GPA____________
SOCIAL SECURITY#_________________________________________________________
DRIVERS LICENSE#_________________________________________________________
BOY SCOUT RANK:__________________________________________________________
HOME ADDRESS:____________________________________________________________CITY/STATE_________________________________________ ZIP_________________
Do you have TWO parents? _______ yes? _______ no?
Number of years parents married:_________________________________________
Do you own a van? _________ A truck with oversized tires? __________
A waterbed? _________ Do you have an earring, nose ring, or belly ring?_______________ Tatoo?_______________
(IF YES TO ANY OF THESE QUESTIONS, DISCONTINUE APPLICATION AND LEAVE THE PREMISES)

In 50 words or less, what does DO NOT TOUCH MY DAUGHTER MEAN TO YOU? __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
In 50 words or less, what does LATE mean to you?
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
In 50 words or less, what does ABSTINENCE mean to you? _________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Congregation you attend:_______________________________________________
How often do you attend?_________________________________________________
When would it the best time to interview your father, mother, relatives, neighbors, minister/rabbi/priest, and past girlfriends?(supply phone numbers)____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
What do you want to be IF you grow up? __________________________________


ANSWER THESE SEMI-CONFIDENTIAL QUESTIONS BY FILLING IN THE BLANKS.
"If I were shot, the last place on my body I would want to be wounded is _________________________________________________________________________
"If I were beaten, the last bone I would want broken is my ______________ _________________________________________________________________________
"A woman’s place is in the ______________________________________________

"The one thing I hope this application does not ask me about is _________ _________________________________________________________________________
"When I first meet a girl, the thing I notice about her is ______________ _________________________________________________________________________
(NOTE: If the answer to above begins s with "T" or "A", discontinue and it is advised that you leave the premises right now keeping your head low and running in a serpentine fashion.)

I SWEAR THAT ALL INFORMATION SUPPLIED ABOVE IS TRUE, UNDER THE PENALTY OF A SLOW DEATH, DISMEMBERMENT, SOLDIER ANT TORTURE, RED HOT POKERS OR DRIPPING WATER TORTURE.
____________________________________________
SIGNATURE (That means your name, moron!)

Thank you for your interest in my daughter. Please allow four to six years for processing. Don’t call us, we’ll call you. You will be contacted in writing if you are approved. Do not try to call or write (since you probably can’t, anyway). Any attempt to make contact might cause you injury. If your application is rejected, two gentlemen with violin cases and cement shoes will notify you – one size fits all.

Four things about Cici

I stole this idea from my friend, Mikey. Since no one obviously cares enough about me to put a copy in MY inbox. Enjoy getting to know me.

Four Jobs You've Had:
Wendy's
Paralegal
Property Manager
The Gap
Four Movies I Can Watch Over and Over:
West Side Story
Life Of Brian
Forrest Gump
Grease
Four Places I've Lived:
New York
Vermont
Florida ( 5 different cities)
TV Shows I Love:
Entourage
Big Brother
The Amazing Race
Grey's Anatomy
Four Places I've Vacationed:
Las Vegas
Canada
Phoenix
Grand Bahama Island
Four of My Favorite Dishes
Eggplant Parmigiana
Prime Rib with a baked Potato
Black Pepper Asian Chicken
A HUGE bowl of Froot Loops with whole milk
Four Sites I Visit Daily:
One I refuse to give advertising to.
Chase.com
CaringBridge.com
CNN.com
Four Places I'd Rather Be Right Now:
Las Vegas
Sleeping
Disney World
At the lottery office, cashing my winning ticket
Four Things on My Immediate Shopping List:
Diapers
Milk
New House
Paper Towels
Four Songs That Always Put Me In a Good Mood:
Lyin' Eyes
Scenes From An Italian Restaurant
My daughter singing the National Anthem
ONE
Four Things I Refuse to Eat:
Frog legs
Pig Feet
NON beef hot dogs
Pre- packaged Pasteurized processed cheese food ( Kraft Singles) BLECH
Four Things I Can't Live Without:
Air
Water
Food
Love
Four Places I Will Visit Before I Die:
The best damn Doctor money can buy
See above
See above
See above
Four Concerts I Have Seen:
Guns N' Roses
Skid Row/Aerosmith
Billy Joel
Poison/Cinderella
Four Favorite Candies:
Pez
Kit Kat
BB Bats
Take Five
Four Pet's Names:
Fizz
Mittens
Francis
Lola
Four Skeletons In My Closet:
I use assorted accents when checking into hotels
I broke off an engagement in 1994 and left someone at the altar in 1997
I wake up and eat chocolate in the middle of the night
I go both ways
Four People I'd Like to Have Over for a Dinner Party:
Bill Clinton
Anthony Kiedis
Natalie Merchant
Drew Barrymore
Four Books I've Read More Than Once:
Brown Bear, Brown Bear
Good In Bed
Catcher In The Rye
Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy
Four Favorite Cocktails:
Banana Daiquiri
Vanil Stoli and Diet
Amaretto Sour
Appletini
Four Favorite Pizza Toppings:
Pepperoni
Black Olives
Onions
Anchovies
Four Pet Peeves:
Bad Spelling
Bad Grammar
Censorship
Muffin Tops

Bagels, Muffins and Bread

I WAS going to go on a rant about censorship AGAIN.

The more I think about the 'situation' the angrier I get, but..I figure my dear readers are content with the current amount of menstrual talk on this site.

So, we'll move on.

But not before I restate that freedom of speech must apply to EVERYONE- not just those whom we agree with.

So. Where were we?

Lauren. She seemed to be getting better, she was drinking, eating and acting normal. I ran out of Tylenol with Codeine yesterday, so I called the office. While the nurse had me on the phone, she asked how the scabs were healing.

SCABS? "Uh, there are no scabs, just lots of white stuff" I told her.

The words 'white stuff' apparently set off alarms and require the nurse to go into F.O.F.T.F.O.M*- as her reply was a bit unsettling.

"WHAT do you mean- WHITE stuff?!?!?!" She gasped.

White stuff, like cottage cheese in the back of her throat I explained.

"Oh NO!!- When can you bring her in???" She demanded

It was at this point that I joined in the party. If this nurse, trained to assess and diagnose medical issues was concerned enough to enter the 'mode', who was I to remain calm? Surely she knew that white stuff was the pre-cursor to throat removal or tongue biopsy and was frantically re-arranging the Dr's schedule to fit in my daughter for her throatectomy.

" I can be there in thirty minutes!" I exclaimed, while mentally preparing myself for getting two kids who were currently eating breakfast and watching 'Dora'; ready to leave the house in fifteen minutes.

"Oh, the Dr. has no room today, how about tomorrow at 2:00?" She asked.

TOMORROW??

"That's fine, just from the tone of your voice, I thought you were more concerned with the situation." I told her.

"Oh no, dear, she probably has thrush- it's very common after a strong dose of antibiotics."

THRUSH. My daughter has yeast infection in her mouth.

In the words of my favorite blogger- YUMM-O-DELICIOUS!

VOMIT.

So today will consist of laundry, dishes, eBaying, and a visit to the Dr.

Do I live life in the fast lane or what?

What am I? A Republican?

I am pissed.

Just back from a trip to the local grocery store, where I was behind a woman in the checkout lane. This woman had a "baby" (he was easily over the age of one) in an INFANT carrier, a 4 or 5 year old hanging off the back of the cart, and a 6 or so year old pulling on her skirt. She was also visibly pregnant and about ready to pop.

A quick glance at her goods on the belt showed me she was purchasing Froot Loops, Nathan's hot dogs, milk, eggs, Aunt Jemima syrup, Eggo waffles, a Spider man birthday cake from the bakery and 4 12 packs of Coke.

When the cashier told her the total, and she pulled out her Gubmint issued debit card, I was slightly annoyed. When the cashier told her that her balance was $15 something (since the state obviously doesn't pay for custom engraved birfday cakes), and the woman reached her long ass nails complete with sparkles into her knock off Louis Vuitton and pulled out a WAD of cash, I was even more annoyed. When she told the cashier she also needed 2 cartons of Newport's, I almost swallowed my tongue.

WHAT THE EXCUSE MY FRENCH FUCK IS THIS????

My cart contained my two children, store brand loot froops, ball park franks. store brand syrup and Toca Cola and I work!

Well, Ok, I don't WORK per se, but Joey does, quite hard I might add.

So, there were my mighty tax dollars hard at work.

Her nails were done, her hair was done, she was wearing jewelry, had a Motorola Razr clipped to her belt and had an iPod clipped to the outside of her bag.

When I got out to my car and saw her loading her goods into the trunk of her I KID YOU NOT FOLKS, Cadillac, I lost it.

Once I was safely inside my car, doors locked and driving away, I rolled down my window, and yelled to her- If you're gonna breed 'em, feed 'em!

I looked and sounded like a bitch, but I'm a sissy. She was a bigger bitch. She coulda taken me out in a second.

Get a job, people. And stop reproducing. For real.

There are only a few ways to wealth in this country- work, fame, or inheritance.

We all wish we had a rich Uncle out there who would die and leave his millions, but most of us do not.

Fame is fleeting and only happens to a select few, so let's count that out of the equation.

What's left? Work. Either do it, or marry someone who does and stop asking ME to take care of YOU and your offspring.

In an ironic twist of fate, I DO have a rich Uncle. He is only 11 years older than me and married with two children of his own to leave his millions to.

Guess I better get famous real soon, because I sure hate working.

The Other Side

Well, we made it.

Every single day, my children amaze me.

Joey and I made the decision NOT to tell Lauren about her surgery until that morning, as we knew that the anticipation would be the worst part for her.

We woke her up early and sat on her bed in a serious manner. I explained that we were going to the hospital ( which was followed by her screaming NOOOOOOOO!) and I promised her no shots or needles. I explained she would change into a super special hospital uniform, drink a little cup of medicine and when she woke up, her throat would hurt a little. She made me PROMISE no shots, which I did, and she calmed down.

She willingly walked into the hospital and it was smooth sailing from there. I was SHOCKED. My stomach was in KNOTS for the three days leading up to this, as I just KNEW she was going to go into full on freak the fuck out mode.

She changed into her gown, drank her versed/codeine cocktail ( Thank GOD it was NOT a nasal spray) and within eight minutes was fall down drunk. Call us mean, but Joey and I were laughing our asses off. She was drunk as a sailor on leave. She was slurring her speech, babbling about space ships and Taco Bell and looked like a bobble head.

By the time the nurse came to wheel her bed into the OR, she was blowing kisses and waving goodbye. Nineteen minutes later, the Dr. came out and told us it was over.

She did wonderfully and the Dr. said if she drank a can of Gatorade, she could go home.

A few minutes later, the nurse came to get us and bring us to recovery. When we got there, Lauren was just starting to wake up. It was at THIS point that she went into F.O.F.T.F.O.M.

I guess anesthesia alters personalities slightly, as my child was possessed. She was trying to scream, but couldn't, and was thrashing around. I was seriously waiting for her head to spin. We spent the next thirty minutes trying to calm her down as she came off her Versed/Codeine/Anesthesia/Morphine high.

Watching her trying to gather her senses reminded me of a bad LSD trip I had in college and I truly felt sorry for her. She was completely disoriented and scared.

Once she was calm, she drank an entire can of juice and we were on our way home.

She is getting better everyday and should be back to normal in another 10 days or so.

Thanks for the emails and e-cards wishing her well!

Love,
Cici

CRASH

This morning we were running late to an appointment. I threw Lauren's clothes on her bed and told her to get dressed. She told me she already HAD panties on, why did she need to put new ones on?

I explained that she should ALWAYS have on clean underwear.

She then decided to start a debate. She calmly and articulately told me that she had been wearing her current pair for a very small amount of time. She took a bath last night, then put on this pair. All she did was sleep in them, how dirty could they be?

While her argument was convincing and obviously well thought out- I told her to change panties anyway. She still demanded an answer as to WHY.

"Because I wasn't allowed out of the house unless I was wearing clean panties and neither are you!" was my final word on the subject.

She changed panties and we were on our way. Later on the phone, I was recalling the story to Joey and he asked WHY I always had to have fresh panties on as a child.

My mothers reasoning was that if I was ever in an accident and had to be rushed to the hospital, she would die of shame if I was wearing dirty panties.

I got to thinking.

Let's assume for a moment I have clean panties on. Now let's assume I am involved in an accident bad enough to require me being taken to the hospital for medical care and disrobed for examination.

Odds are, at the time of impact, I will shit my pants anyway.

I will no longer make my daughter change out of clean panties to put CLEANER ones on.

That is all for today.

Chinese Torture

I have had two C-Sections, EIGHT amniocentesis', my wisdom teeth extracted, my foot broken, my back thrown out and a stapler rip through two of my fingers.

All of those things combined were more pleasant than holding my daughter down as the poor woman at the lab tried to draw her blood.

To the lay person in the waiting room, I am sure it sounded like we were practicing torture methods on Lauren. She was dripping sweat, screaming like a lunatic, kicking, crying and just freaking out.

Once they got the needle in her arm, it was over in less than thirty seconds. That was fun.

The Dr. assures me Monday PRE-OP won't be as bad, since Lauren will receive NO needles until she is under anesthesia.

"We just have to spray some Versed in her nose as soon as she gets here." She assures me.

Yeah, good luck with that, let me know how that works out for you.

Damn. I am NOT looking forward to this.

Yes. I have been bad.

I should be spanked.

Truth be told, I have not been inspired lately.

Life has been quite boring. Lots of laundry, child rearing and cleaning.

I am not even sure if anyone besides my mom is still reading this- Hi Mom!!

I spent last weekend with my parents at a fancy pants hotel. Joey had to work, so the kids and I packed it up and headed on an hour long drive.

We had a great time. My mom and I shared some laughs ( at my dad's expense- of course) and we shopped, sunned and relaxed. My parents are so generous! We went shopping and both of my kids have new clothes and shoes. I have a new diaper bag, and my dad filled my tank.

I learned this trick in my late teens. If I know one or both of my parents will be in my car, I make sure I have as little gas as possible. When I pull up to the pump to fill up, they ALWAYS offer me their credit cards. I am sure they are on to my ruse- but I still play the game anyway.

I have a busy few weeks coming up on me again now. Lauren is out of school for the summer and driving me nuts! On Friday, we are heading to the beach for a three day weekend, only to be followed Monday by pure hell.

Lauren is having her tonsils and adenoids removed and has to stay over one night in the hospital. I lost the coin toss and get to sleep over with her. For those that actually KNOW my daughter, I need not explain. For those that do not- allow me to elaborate. My daughter is a DRAMA QUEEN. I am quite certain she will need to be sedated in the parking lot before we even enter the hospital.

I will need drugs by the time this all over. I was advised that she will have two weeks of being home bound and miserable. YAY! Something to look forward to!

Of course, Joey took Monday and Tuesday off, but those will be the easy days as Morphine will still be in her system. Wednesday morning should be when the real pleasantries begin. Joey will be safe at work and I'll be here with a dramatic five year old and a two year old who never had his umbilical cord cut.

In other news, I have begun a search for a FT job. The work at home thing is nice, and I had a good five year run- but the tide is turning. Anthony NEEDS to be with other kids. The child has no sense of sharing and has not grasped the concept that life goes beyond mommy. He needs to be bitten and pushed. He needs to play in dirt, and he needs to learn that there are people besides me out there.

So, the decision to send him to school was made. I found an excellent program that is not "daycarish" at all. It is a curriculum based program that focuses on play.

I could continue to stay home while he is gone, but I would end up weighing 500 pounds if I did that. Imagine a quiet, empty house and a TV that does NOT have to be set to Nickelodeon!

So, the search is on. I haven't had a 'real' job for over five years, so I expect to be a little rusty and expect I will have to do some serious convincing of employers to take me back, but I am sure I will find a firm somewhere that needs a beautiful, smart and sassy woman.

I have to take Lauren for her pre-op blood work today. Imagine my good fortune. Ever try getting blood from a rabid hyena?

I can only assume that would be easier.