My Son The Garbage Man (Support Group For Parents Of Hoarders)

As a rule, I don’t usually clean my children’s rooms for them. It is their personal space, their mess, and their responsibility. For reasons that are not pertinent to this post I have decided to break that rule.

I am sitting, at this very moment, inside the confines of my son’s tiny closet trying to decide whether I should be proud of his attempts to save, recycle, and/or reuse absolutely everything or if now would be the perfect occasion to decide I’m OCD and just start hyperventilating in here.

Fortunately, OCD has never been my thing and I find this too funny not to stop what I’m doing and share immediately.

I am only on the third shelf of the closet and already I have found a strange and varied assortment of odd things my son has viewed as worthy of occupying the meager amount of space available to him.

• 1 empty glass bottle
• 2 empty plastic bottles (all bottles grouped together neatly on one shelf, set upright, and ready to be used for purposes unknown to me.)
• 3 separate assortments of broken glass (one of which happened to be a vase I loved. I expressly told him to throw it away. I just cut my finger on it. *evil eyes*)
• One decorative jar that was once upon a time sitting on the mantle above my fireplace. It now has stale bread and what looks like dried toothpaste inside it.
• Dental floss of all kinds. The roll out floss. The floss on plastic sticks that are packaged and sold for ease of use. Used floss. The only thing that saved me from throwing up my supper is my ability to tell myself, “well…at least I know he uses floss now.” We just have to work on the throwing it away part.
• 1 gallon jug of soapy water which I can only assume is in preparation for the apocalypse.
• A tree. Okay…so it wasn’t a tree. It was just a branch from a dead Christmas tree.
• 2 cheap plastic drinking glasses from Carnival Cruise Lines. We’ve never been on a cruise….
• A wide assortment of rocks & batteries
• The skulls of both a deer and a cat that he found in the yard and my husband cleaned for him so he could keep them. *evil eyes again* I don’t think those have a very good chance of surviving my clean up. We shall see.
• 3 love notes. In one of them he is asked if he can marry & kiss his then-girlfriend. His initial answer? “Maybe.” But I remember this day. He came home and asked me if kissing was appropriate for someone of his age (10) and I said perhaps it wasn’t. He responded again on the back side of the love note saying, “I love you too hunny but I can’t kiss you yet.”
Thank. God.
• 4 hats that he never wears, one of which is just advertising for Jay Auto Mall. ?? Another looks like it may have belonged to an Uncle Sam impersonator diagnosed with a severe case of dementia.
• A license plate literally hanging from a clothes hanger in his closet. I don’t even know why he would want to keep it, but apparently it’s important because it’s hanging up. His clothes aren’t hanging, but that license plate is!! 🙂 At least now I know he does, in fact, know what hangers are and how to use them.

This is just the closet. Only God knows what resides in his dresser, under his mattress and inside the toy box he never opens anymore. May the force be with me as I continue the pursuit of cleanliness.

What weird things do you find in your kids’ rooms (or anywhere else: your car, purse, refrigerator)? Am I the only one whose offspring is an aspiring garbage man? Please tell me I’m not alone…

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The Mystery of The Harry Potter Booger Vulture

Remember how I was talking about how funny being a mom is? Well, I’m back with another example. I was cleaning my kids’ bathroom when I looked to the wall opposite the toilet and I saw this:

boogervultureWe’re calling it the “Booger Vulture,” but really it could be anything. Someone even suggested it resembles Harry Potter on his broom stick which I can totally see. As a huge Harry Potter fan, I’m considering leaving it there as a decoration. Maybe it’s even magical? (I do know it pulls paint off like magic when scrubbed upon).

In honor of parental weirdness & the unconventional, grossly improvisational art utensils of children, I’m taking a poll. As you can clearly see, this is a matter of utmost importance, the likes of which all the world depends on you casting your vote. The encouragement and creativity of children is at stake here. I need you all to lend your voices to this discussion or else the world shall never know whether this is indeed a Booger Vulture, Harry Potter or something etched on the wall from poop. The children need you (to cast your vote). Results will be posted on a(n as yet undetermined) day.

 

 

Laundry & Love Notes

Being a mom is funny. And when I say “funny” I mean every single definition of funny in equal measure.

Funny haha, funny as in that’s not even remotely close to being funny, funny as in strange, and funny as in ironic.

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It’s funny all the places you find socks. I’ve found them in the fridge (in Daddy’s beer drawer no less, with a beanie version of Tigger stuck inside one). I’ve found them in the armpit area of Minion #2’s peacoat. In my yard. No, not just in my yard, but scattered all over it. I’ve found socks scattered across my front lawn that don’t even belong to my family; Like a little sock tornado sucked up all the lonely socks from every house in my subdivision and dropped them all at my house. I’ve found them in my car – or even better – my purse. There’s nothing like needing something from your purse right away and digging hastily for it only to end up turning your purse upside down in the pediatrician’s office, picking through empty candy wrappers, a few dead flowers, some lint, m&m pieces, loose change, a broken pencil, a rock and a cloud of dog hair until finally lifting up a worn, dirty, smelly sock and having to say, “oh, there it is!” (I give the pediatrician props; she grabbed the item with bare hands & refrained from sanitizing for a full two minutes).

Finding socks in weird places is one thing. Finding weird things in the laundry is pretty normal. I’ve found money, chapstick, grocery lists, other weird lists, large safety pins & cigarette butts:

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That’s par for the course with parenthood, yes? And it’s usually pretty funny. The thing that’s not funny? The weird thing I found recently? The thing that struck my soul with fear? A love note from a little girl addressed to my 5th grader. That was not funny unless you count funny as in heart-stoppingly terrifying. (Maybe that’s a little dramatic, but I am a huge fan of theater and hyperbole so there you have it).

PicMonkey Collage

I have to admit, though the “I love you” part had me in a small fit of panic, the “you’re sweat” part made me giggle. At least she knows the difference between “your” and “you’re.” Now we just have to work on “sweat” and “sweet.” I don’t think those two words were meant to be mutually exclusive. You are sweat…quite the proclamation of love there.

I realize this is all very innocent at this point. I realize this is completely normal for this age. I also realize that this is the time for kids to experience relationships and learn how to develop, grow and maintain healthy ones. I don’t plan on having a ton of restrictions on my kids dating; I actually want them to date so they can figure out what respectful, caring, healthy relationships are supposed to look like and I believe the time to learn that is when they’re young so that they don’t struggle so much when they’re older. I guess I just wasn’t prepared for my ten year old to be so affectionately adored by the opposite sex just yet. I was prepared for many more pediatrician visits & socks in strange places…I’m not ready to find strange things ON socks just yet. :/

It is my understanding that this is an old note as his sister has informed me that Minion #1 is no longer seeing “Lanissa” & apparently has lots of female admirers at or below the age of ten. Like…a whole bus full of mini-Marilyn’s who will eventually rob me of my sweat sweet little boy. (There I go with the theatrics again). What little girl am I going to find love notes from tomorrow?!

Why does puberty have to arrive so quickly after birth? I’m going to go find a bottle of Jack & do more laundry & mate more socks. Feel free to tell me your parenting horror stories in the comments. They’ll likely make me feel much better about my prepubescent, soon-to-be hormone-laden minions making a marathon-worthy run for adulthood.

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Hey y’all!
Check out my website where I reveal my new hairstyle + talk about the joys of being a weird mom and an atypical business owner. You can find the post here: http://spiffysnaps.zenfolio.com/blog/2014/5/pink-hair-potato-storage
Don’t forget to share the post &/or leave a comment! I want to know about your struggles with balance, too so we can maybe help others like ourselves. At the very least, it would be cool to know there are other parents and business owners who have really awesome, funky hair 😉 Don’t forget pictures!! (& to share the post because that’s really important (: )

If Rabbits Wore Stiletto’s

It has come to my attention that I am a very peculiar person. Several years ago, before I moved to Germany, I wrote a friend of mine a letter. A letter that I never sent because I am notoriously bad at delivering snail mail to the actual mailbox. After getting “effing bored” with the black pen that I used on two whole pages, I switched to blue and the weirdness began. 

Image“Hey guess what?! Tinkerbell is a babe. They shouldn’t make Disney characters so…so…well just look at her! Like that. And think about Betty Boop! She’s a cartoon – a freakin’ cartoon – sex symbol! But the worst one…Jessica Rabbit. NO ONE LOOKS LIKE THAT! I guess it’s a good thing though because if women really looked like her, the whole male population would combust as soon as they hit puberty and all the other women would have such low self-esteem that they’d either shut themselves up in their homes and expire all alone or they’d just shoot themselves. Then the whole world would end and there would be nothing left except crazy looking human-rabbit hybrids with long legs, red hair and whiskers. I wonder if they’d wear stilettos. it’s hard enough to walk on those with just two feet; Imagine doing it with four.”

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After that I made a plea for another friend’s address because I could never contact her to get it from her. So I asked the friend I wrote – we’ll call her ‘Friend A’ – to go steal Friend B’s entire mailbox so that I could write her a letter, put it inside the box and mail the whole thing back. I also said that Friend A should dye her hair blonde so that we – Friend A, Friend B and myself – could call ourselves “The Blontourage.”

WHY in the actual hell would I write something like that?! I’m not sure, but you know what? I love myself for it. 😉 

P.S. – Taryn,

Do you notice the cute firefly in the 2nd picture? Refer to our previous conversation this morning and then tell me I wasn’t meant to find this letter. Lol

Weird Things & A Contest

I’m sort of in a funk. Well, not sort of. I am. And it’s not a “funk.” It’s despair.

I’m so sick of it.

So, in an effort to distract myself & make me feel moderately better for an indeterminate period of time I am going to do what I do best. Write nonsensical nonsense on my blog & possibly sit & watch my stats climb with an unhealthy volume of joy.

Did you know that if you google “weird things” you get a whole plethora of not just weird things, but nasty, disgusting things as well? I swear there was a picture of a turd sitting on a toilet seat. There was also one particularly disturbing one.

I’m not gross enough to post the poo picture, but boogers & dudes with huge nose & ear holes? That, obviously, does not cross the line of things I will not post on my blog.

I am just so curious as to why someone would enjoy doing this to themselves? No judgement – just genuine curiosity. Also, while we’re at it, I’m curious to know how this guy handles allergies. A stuffy nose is the least of his worries, I’m sure, as anything that’s in his head could simply fall out through his one ginormous nostril. I fear for the fate of his brains…

Here’s another weird thing I came across.

Talk about saving time. This just gave “would you like coffee with your breakfast?” a new meaning.

I thought this was supposed to be physically impossible? But half the things contortionists do should be physically impossible & yet they pull them off with jaw-dropping gracefulness so I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by some dude licking his elbow. Although, why one would WANT to lick their elbow…?? I guess it’s human nature. If we can do it – we will. If we can’t do it – we will prove that we can.

Speaking of contortionists and coffee…

I’m still weirded out that someone actually knitted this:

I’m not yet ready to comment on this one, but if you are – please do.

I think a little caption contest is in order. I’ve seen other bloggers do this with great success and while I know I won’t be nearly as successful as they are, it still seems fun. So, I’m going to post a weird photo and ask that you make a comment with what you think the caption to that photo should be. We’ll take a vote next week and whoever wins can guest-blog anything they want on Bethylicious.

What is this weird animal thinking? Extra points if you can tell me what the weird animal is.

 

Transformers, Dora & Poker

Another dream post. Beware; this one is a little crazy.

It involves all of the following:

& last but not least:

Now, are you wondering how all these things tie in together yet?

If you are, read on. If not, get outta here.

I can’t remember the details or most of the why’s & how’s so if you’re interested in making sense out of this, you might as well give that hope up right now. I can’t even make sense out of it and it happened in my head! It started off with what I assume was the beginning of the end of the world. Everything was gray and kind of dusty. There were no cars out, no one working, no kids in school. The streets were crowded with people all out of their houses who were dragging tables out into the middle of the street. There were these extremely tall buildings on either side of us and we just sat down in between them at our tables and started to play Poker of all things. I was with James and someone else who I can’t remember at the moment. I do remember telling them that I chose to learn to play Poker at that particular time so that my brother and sister wouldn’t be saying things like,”Oh yeah, those are good!” & “Ooooh, don’t do that. Please…don’t do that.” Sorry Ryan & Michele. Nothing against the two of you…things are just strange inside my head 🙂

So, as we’re sitting there playing poker, something even more strange happens. We realize the buildings are not buildings at all. They’re – you guessed it! – Transformers. Sorry y’all, there’s no Bumblebee in Bethy’s dream. They start folding in and out of these robotic shapes and they start talking (about only God knows what) and everyone except a select few people is running around in a panic because they’re afraid of them. That’s when I realize they’re telling us not to be afraid, that they’re here to help us. I even remember seeing the tallest building on the street keel over, crumbling bits of the sidewalk and the street when it landed. It was a transformer, too, but it hadn’t transformed in so long that it was stuck. It was a ginormous tan building with a metal roof of some sort that was the color blue. It stayed on the ground with me right in front of it struggling to transform and all I heard was the building grunting and yelling out expletives. It was actually kind of entertaining. When it finally managed to take its regular shape, I saw that the blue roof was actually a set of wings. This, apparently, was the only transformer in my dream that could fly. It starting picking people up to rescue them (from what, I’m not sure) and that’s when I heard someone vaguely mention something about having to pee. Then the giant transformer said, “no human is so small or insignificant for us not to stop so you can pee” and it put the person down and they ran right out of my dream. I guess I didn’t dream up port-a-potties? And considering all the buildings with working bathrooms in them were up walking and talking, I doubt they were open for service.

Now, everyone is running around in a panic until a transformer picks them up and everything is in total chaos until suddenly it’s like everyone gets it and now we’re all friends with the robot buildings. Follow me so far? Yeah…I don’t even follow me, but let’s keep trying anyway?

That’s when Dora comes in. There are two other people with her, but none of them have been picked up by a transforming building yet. That’s when Dora spots the giant building with the blue wings and starts yelling frantically for it. It marches toward her, shaking the Earth as it moves and Dora looks deliriously happy. Weird, much? She starts jumping up and down and when the transformer gets close enough, it scoops her up into a hug like they’re old friends and swings her and her friends onto it’s back. And oddly enough, the building smiles. Don’t ask me how that looked because I cannot describe it. It lets Dora hold something that it has slung around its back because its confident she will not drop it. Whatever “it” is.

Then the scene changes. It’s still the end of the world, but it’s not grey and dusty anymore. It’s dark and occasionally, I can see bursts of fire. The transformer buildings are more scrambled out now so most of the area I’m in looks deserted except for a few people scrambling around picking up paper off the ground and running to some abandoned non-transforming building. It’s mail. They’re taking the mail to a building where only a few people are staying and these people have the job of checking the addresses on the mail, making sure it’s correct and then protecting the mail until it can get where it needs to go. I have no idea why the mail is so important. Most of the stuff looked like bills anyway and when it’s the end of the world:

A.) Nobody is worried about the bills

& B.) If you want to know how to make a horrible day even worse, imagine the world ending and then someone coming up to you with a letter. You get all hopeful because this could possibly be the one and only piece of good news you will receive all day long or perhaps, for the rest of your life. And what happens? It turns out to be a bill. I can almost guarantee you the person you present this bill to will want you to bring them a rope the next time you visit them. Whether they will use that rope to strangle you or themselves is yet to be determined.

I don’t really know what happens with this part of the story, just that people are frantically taking mail to this dingy building while very dirty people hurriedly take it inside as if someone is going to try to steal it from them. Mail hoarders?

Next thing – that super-fast Mom-Scientist-woman from “No Ordinary Family.” She finds out she can run fast…big whoop – we already knew that. But she keeps running back and forth to a swing set. And then she has all these children surrounding her so she can’t run back and forth to the swing set and it’s killing her. At one point, she’s leading a group of children somewhere and one is walking in front with her holding her hand. The kid’s hand is rubbing hers raw, but even though she’s bleeding everywhere and it hurts really badly, she won’t let go. I remember seeing her walk passed the swing set with the kid who is killing her hand and she looks longingly at the swing set…another odd moment. I don’t know what happens with this part of the story either.

I do know that I woke up to my husband telling me my hair looked like Medusa so that was nice :/…then I said, “I had a weird dream.”

He said “about what?”

I paused.

“Transformers.”

Then we both had a good laugh.

Sumo-Mama

It’s Monday!

If you’re in need of some entertainment or a pick-me-up, read on. It’s another dream post and this one is pretty insane.

The majority of the dream revolved around a very sweet Oritental girl. She drove people around to various sections of a casino/bar/club. She ended up taking James and Little James somewhere…why my husband was taking my son inside a casino, I have no idea, but I’m just glad it was a dream.

After that, the girl seems upset and I coax her to tell me what’s wrong. Turns out she has a faint black line under her eye that she says causes her to kill everyone she comes into relatively close contact with. I don’t know what the deal with that is, but I guess it was filled wtih some kind of voodoo magic. She’s distraught because she doesn’t want to kill my husband and son, but she always gives in to whatever the magic is that makes her do it.

So I have to stop her, right? I shoved her into a bathroom and was planning on locking her into a stall when I noticed that she crapped on herself – EW, right?

That has to be because of the potty-training difficulty I have with my girls…anyway, I picked this grown, pooptacular woman up and carried her into the stall and ordered her to get on the toilet and stay there. I watched to make sure she didn’t get away and she told me that her weakness was bleach. Yes, bleach. What did I do? I doused her with some bleach that just materialized out of nowhere. Then I stood there and watched her some more until her mother came in.

Her huge sumo-mama. Her huge sumo-mama with the 2 thick, dark black lines under her eyes that apparently means she thoroughly enjoys killing people. I ended up fighting her, but this is the funny part: her weakness is bleach, too. But I couldn’t just douse her with bleach.

I found a bottle of Herbal Essences conditioner, poured it into an Herbal Essences shampoo bottle and mixed that with the bleach and gold glitter of all things. I guess I thought it needed to be pretty? And the Herbal Essences? Well, I love that stuff and I’ve been out of conditioner for over a week now and even my subconscious is missing me having soft, shiny hair.

After that, we commenced the fighting and I kept grabbing her legs and pulling her down. The Earth would shake as she fell and she DID fall….every single time. Somehow I won the fight with the sumo-mama. That made her like me so she started laughing and tickling me (?) before she got off the ground and disappeared.

The scene rematerialized into my grandaddy’s house and a lot of our family (plus some twins that I have no idea who they are) were there. It looked as if they were getting together for a funeral. The twins I don’t know accused me of “running off on my own” and I said something about how I didn’t consider going to Florida, Alabama and Georgia “running off” because I have family in all of those places. After that, we dug a hole in the ground, found a trunk full of old stuff that belonged to my uncle Howell and I pointed it out to my mom. She came out with an apron on while mixing up a bowl of something I assumed was cookies which is hilarious and strange because my mom doesn’t cook often at all and if she was going to make cookies, it wouldn’t be in a bowl like that…it would be a package that she opens and spoons out onto a pan. She told us to cover the box back up, she knew it was there. Everyone was acting as if my uncle was dead when he was there at the get-together. It was all very strange.

That’s all the dream sharing I’m doing today! I hope you were at least slightly amused. I’m taking my booty to bed now. Guten Morgen, Guten Tag, Guten Nacht – wherever you are and whatever time it is.

Care to share any weird dreams of your own?

 

I Wonder Why They Didn’t Melt In There…

I have been having the craziest, most vivid dreams lately. I have always dreamed very vividly, but for a long time, I didn’t seem to ever have any dreams anymore. It kinda made me sad because I love to dream!  Yeah, that’s right…I’ma big ol’ dork! And proud of it.

Because I feel like I want to write down all the ones I remember in as much detail as I can and also because I think some of you will enjoy my weirdness, I’m posting about my dreams. Of all the dumb things to blog about, huh? 😛

There are three that I want to tell you about, but I’m going to break them up into three separate posts. It would be way too long if I wrote all three down at once and I’m trying to break away from making those insanely long posts that no one wants to read 😉

The first one was a few nights ago and will be the shortest for me to retell since I only remember one part.

Russell Brand.

He was the pirate-elf version of Santa. Imagine Russell Brand dressed a lot like:

Captain Jack Sparrow…but with tights instead of the pants and a hat like Elf.

Only the tights weren’t always the same color. At one point, he wore one red and white stripped stocking and the other was green stripped.

He was climbing up on people’s balcony’s like a cat burgler in the daytime, walking in silently through their balcony doors and without saying a word, he gave everyone something similar to:

&

Then he’d turned around and you would get to see him sling an anchor of some sort up to the next balcony and climb away. It was really rather disturbing once he got halfway up because those tights did not leave much to the imagination….it was like David Bowie in the Labyrinth all over again.

Some last image to leave you with, huh? I figured if I had to have nightmares about it, I’m not doing it alone!! Also, Russell had no bag so don’t ask me where he kept the chocolate presents… :/

Happy Saturday everyone!!