Umm, I'm a little busy here

First things first -
Ex-Mom is going in for surgery today so I'm praying my little socks off. I'd be grateful for any well wishes and good thoughts you might send her way.

Now, an update of sorts...

I have 400 unread blogs in my reader. Y'all need to slow the hell down with the writey writey thing. I can't keep up.

I'm emailing/texting/talking/dating 4 guys at the moment... That's exhausting, let me tell ya! I've been out with 3 and I'll meet the fourth this week (Just first dates. I'm not a whore, honest). I like them all for different reasons. I'm hesitant with all of them for different reasons. BUT, I am having a blast... when I can remember which one I'm talking to. 1 plays guitar and has a hobby farm north east of here. One coaches football and has a custom built home with a hottub south west of here. One looks like he's 24 (only he's not, I swear. I checked his ID this weekend) and another rebuilds classic cars for fun. One was a stripper in his 20's and one served in the first gulf war. One has a beautiful blonde princess for a daughter and one has 2 GIANT greatdanes. One works for the state and two are self employed. Are you as turned around as I am yet?

Thing1's basketball is in full swing. School concerts are filling in the calendar and both Things seem to believe they should have a social life and a personal driver (me!).

Work is kicking my ass all over the place. My desk hasn't fully recovered from the seminar in Colorado but we've already had another one up north and plans are full swing for the international trip. On top of that we are recruiting for our next group!

Bring on the holidays. Who needs to sleep?

Days of Grace (I forget which number)

Recently I have been graced by:

YOU

Yes you!
You all rock. I have gotten so many emails from you all wondering where I'm at and if I'm OK. I assure you that I am here, alive and well. Things are just hunky dory. For some reason I haven't been feeling very writer-ish lately. I'm hoping that changes soon because I do miss you all.

Just a real quick run down on what I should be blogging about soon:
1. Buffett and I broke up and went to dinner together anyway
2. My new furry coat
3. I got to go to a taping of Oprah (yes, there were prizes!)
4. The British lady who made me hit a construction barrel
5. Dueling Pianos and the "blind" date
6. The guy who wanted to pay me to rub his body
7. The guy who really really really wants to hear my voice
8. Making random friends
9. The Things and crap this parenting gig is HARD.
10. The guy who looks 24 but isn't and has the most phallic last name ever.
(Phallic like COCK9INCHES phallic. Really, I'm so not kidding!)

SMOOCH! Love you guys!

Days of Grace 46: Weekend Goodness Recap

The weekend was full of goodness. Everything from a night chatting with my dear friend Ex around a bonfire (sometimes in the general drudgery of living and raising kids we forget that we actually like spending time together) to a cold windy soccer game to winterizing the garden. The highlight of the weekend though was definitely the corn maze. The Family Von Sass joined the Buffett Clan for the time honored Fall tradition of finding the perfect pumpkin and other silliness.

And introducing:

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BUFFET

Sassy Gets Real

Some of you might be operating under the misconception that living the life of Sassy is all glamore and crazy hot sex. Sadly, today I'm here to set the record straight. Officially, I do more than just have crazy hot sex and it's not always glamorous.



Exhibit 1-
Not sex and not glamorous
The House of Sass has been under a severe financial crunch of late. Ok, Ok, fine, that's complete crap. We've been in a fucking financial catastrophe and it has robbed me of my sanity, my smile, my sleep and my sassitude. In short, I have been in a very dark bad place.
I won't be shitting rainbows but things will get better soon. I had to burn my pride at the stake and go to my parents for a loan. They generously agreed to help. They assured me that I'm not a failure and that the economy is telling everyone to grab their ankles in one form or another. Things are still going to be tight but I will at least be making ends meet and I'm going to allow myself to be proud of that.



Exhibit 2-
About sex (sorta) but definitely not glamorous or hot.
No, definitely NOT HOT!
My parents came over for dinner last night and somehow the conversation went from hemorrhoids to anal sex. I had a conversation with my parents and my children at my dinner table, while eating cherry pie, about double dipping. Y'all are dying for an invitation to my house now, aren't you? While the talk was disturbing, my mother's facial expressions were down right horrifying. Every time a conversation comes up about things related to the arse, the bung hole, the sphincter, the crapper, my mom makes a face. It's a fish face. But, BUTT...
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Please note the pen. I cannot cross my eyes without help and even then the results are rather sucktastic. That either means I'm brilliant or a complete fucking moron. I'm not sure which.







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The Crapper Outtakes...

Days of Grace 44: Thing2

My dearest Thing2

It has been such a good year. You are at that perfect age, that blissful sweet spot somewhere between uncontrollable child and asshole teenager. I want to soak in your energy and exuberance. I want to wrap up your innocense and protect it with my last breath. You make me laugh so hard my sides ache. You bring me more joy than I ever knew was possible.

When people ask me about you I still struggle to find the words. Without writing a book with pages and pages of quotes, stories and pictures, nothing seems adequate. You refuse to be put in a box that defines you. You are so incredibly smart but absolutely love to speak with atrocious grammar just to watch me twitch. You torment the ever loving hell out of your brother but truthfully want nothing more than to just hang out with him. You are a fierce competitor and the most generous and giving human being I have ever known. Still filled with childlike wonder over silly little things and yet wanting to be older and cool; I'm watching you shift and change before my eyes. I love to see you grapple with big issues and put them into perspective, to swallow the deeper meanings of people's actions and come back with a mature, adult understanding. I love to listen to you disolve into gleeful giggles over a fart joke. Pride doesn't even begin to encompass the huge emotion that tries to burst from my chest when I think of you.

Happy 12th Birthday Thing2! My baby, my little man, My Sunshine.

What the hell Sassy? It's Friday. Lighten the fuck up!

OK, so my last post was a bit mushy and introspective-y and annoying-y.

Let me redeem myself with THIS.
Thank you SneezeMan.
It will make you laugh. I promise.

And if you are a mother of boys it will make you laugh uncomfortably because OMG, SO TRUE!!!! Or your son is still very young and you should be laughing uncomfortably because I swear to GI Joe, your time is coming my friend and just you wait! The amazing ability for my sons to completely boggle my mind and gross me the hell out is astounding.

My world turned upside down again Part 2

I thought about putting this out until Monday because a lot of people just don't read blogs on the weekend but then I realized that I've left you all hanging and worried. You don't need to spend the weekend worrying. I've already done that and it's no fun.

The night of the lump or Why Ex is a Fucking Saint

The night I found the lump is also the night that I broke my bed. Remember that? It was like 1AM and Ex is lying on the floor screwing my bed rails back onto the headboard while I'm googling Breast-Lumps-That-Will-Kill-You. I'm here to tell you that when you have a medical scare, Google is NOT YOUR FRIEND. In fact, Google is an asshole. I'm just sayin'.

So, Ex fixed my bed and held me while I cried and snotted all over his shirt. I'm not sure how I would have made it through the first couple of terror filled hours without him. The next day I emailed my doctor about the lump and he kind of brushed me off and said it's probably nothing. When I told this to Ex over the phone I think he almost climbed through the mouth piece to slap me upside the head. "Make An Appointment." "MAKE AN APPOINTMENT" "MAKE THE DAMN APPOINTMENT OR I WILL MAKE IT FOR YOU!!!" I made an appointment. And then Ex insisted on going with me. I'm not sure if he was afraid I wouldn't go or if he was there to support me. Probably both.

So, not to bore you with all the details, over the following 2 weeks, I had lots of appointments. I was touched and smooshed and prodded and ultrasounded and had giant stabby things shoved into my lovely lady lumps. There was some pain and tenderness. The biopsy left me sore and achy for a few days. But the worst? The worst was the fear.

I was definitely NOT myself for those two weeks. I was withdrawing from people. I was closing off. I was scared out of my everloving mind. I wasn't sleeping. I wasn't eating. I wasn't blogging. My pants were completely devoid of Sass.

I finally got the phone call with the all clear. And I cried some more. Lots and lots and lots more. Oh the relief. It was like having a 50 pound dildo removed from my pearl necklace.

My boobies. They are healthy. My boobies. They are staying attached to my body. I love my boobies. And in honor of my healthy still attached boobies, a booby haiku.

I love my pretty boobies
Nipples are your friends
They should run for president

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And now, finally... FINALLY, the shit storm seems to have ended. I've got no drama going on. None. Nada. And it's wonderful. The Things start school in a couple of weeks. We are gearing up for all the sports seasons to kick off. I've been to festivals and parades and dance clubs. I've had a couple of dates that were good. But no drama. Perhaps a bit of intrigue but I'm ok with that. After all, I need something else to write about besides how crappy my summer has been. Y'all are probably almost as tired of reading my overly emotional Snotty McCryBaby posts as I am of living them.

So, starting Monday. We're back to the Sass.

GrandFather

The entire time that everything was happening with Shimmy, the Things were in AZ with Ex's parents. They go for a couple of weeks every summer. While I am glad that they were not here during my emotional drama with Shimmy when things finally started to settle down, I was definitely ready to have my boys back. But alas it was not to be.

Ex got a phone call from his family saying that GrandFather had a heart attack while driving and was in the hospital. Things happened pretty quickly from there. The Things plane tickets were changed so they would fly to New York instead of home. Ex, his brother and sister-in-law made plans to drive out as well. All the while I was left here with my thoughts and my grief. I could have gone out for the funeral. I had the time to take from work. But I couldn't bring myself to intrude on that family time. I knew that Ex's girlfriend wanted to go too. She wanted to be there to support him. How crappy would it have been for me to go instead. I know I've mentioned before I close I am with Ex's family. MyHope is Ex's sister and so near and dear to my heart that I can't even put it into words. But I love them all and we are all still close. They would not have made me feel out of place in the slightest. I would have done that to myself. Boundaries. It's something I have been thinking about a lot lately. Ex is one of my very best friends. His family is still my family. However, we are divorced and I need to find a way to be a gracious exwife and not wiggle myself into family situations where it's just not appropriate. I think I made the right decision despite that fact that I wish I had gone. GrandFather was a wonderful man who I cherished. Even when Ex and I had our rocky start with his family, GrandFather decided right from the get go that he adored me. I'm not sure why but it always made me feel incredibly special. I loved that man, despite or even more likely because of his many flaws idiosyncrasies.

So, as I recuperated from the emotional upheaval of my very special Shimmy going through a trauma that broke my heart, I nursed another ache. An ache of losing a man who meant so much to me. Never again will I get a phone call on my birthday singing to me. Never again will I get his sweet letters telling me to be well, filling my life with family, love and respect. Never again will I be able to bring him a root beer and be greeted by his wonderfully tender smile.
It was a very lonely several days.

Bottoms Up

I have recently been asked to man several beer tents with the added perk of free beer, I think, or maybe they just said that to get me there. Whatever, WooHoo! Getting involved in my community should be fun. In addition to being a fund raising opportunity so I don't have to take out a second mortgage for my son's soccer addiction it will be a chance to meet more people in the small town where I live. I've been here for over 7 years and honestly the only people I know are the parents of my children's friends. Time to branch out a bit I think. A bonus, as I weather the shit storm that has hit my life recently a little beer numbness is always welcome.

If you're in the area of Cow Town, Wisconsin and can make it to a certain Blues festival outside of Madison next weekend, stop by and see me. I'll be ransoming beers on the late Friday night shift.

Hint, the price might be cheaper if you flash me or call me Sassy! Tongue kisses to anyone who does both.

Ps. I'm totally lying about the discount
PPs. I'm not lying about the tongue kisses
PPPs. Unless you are toothless and smelly. Then you have to buy ME a beer first.

Days of Grace:40 - The Steph is an impatient bitch installment

At least I think this is what she wanted when she yelled at me YELLEDATMEEEE!!! on Facebook.

So a Gracey update you will have.

1. A BBQ with the Things, an ex-sister-in-law, the Ex, his girlfriend and her gaggle of children. I asked him to bring me out my drink but he forgot and she yelled at him saying "The woman needs her drink, Man!" It was awesome. Also, her young children got all crazy and Ex got all stressed and I had already gotten the hell out of dodge. Without doing dishes. Muwahahahaha!
2. Homemade enchiladas made by SM. No wonder I'm getting skinnier y'all, he's not feeding me all the damn time. That man can Cook! And by that I really do mean cook. Although I also mean sex but that's not what happened at the dinner table with his 3 little kids watching. I'm twisted but not that twisted... yet.
3. Watching the triplets ride the ferris wheel for the first time. They loved it. Declared it the coolest thing ever until the fun house. Then that was the coolest. Until the ginormous fall from the freaking heavens slide. But they didn't die or break anything so that's good.
4. A completely uncomplicated night of OMFG... no wait let me actually type that one out OohOhhOH Mah Fucking Gawd!!! sex and cuddling. And before you all get high and mighty on my ass, no I'm not still waiting and fighting for something. We're friends. Friends who bump uglies until one of us discovers someone else to bump uglies with. Things are much more comfortable now. Or they are until they get uncomfortable in the holy crap don't stop now kind of way. But of course, I'm a lady so I won't give you the details. Ladies don't discuss such things. For the record though, there was no hickey giving or getting.
5. My garden has borders. LawnBoy was going to come out on Thursday to dig me some trenches. In return he was going to buy me a beer on Saturday. Yeah, he sucks at negotiating. I told him that. Anyway, he couldn't make it on Thursday and I didn't really want to see him on Saturday so I assumed I was in the clear. I wasn't but I wriggled out of it anyway. So, on Sunday I got down and dirty in my own garden. I moved plants. I dug trenches. I put in pretty bricks. I got a fucking 9th degree sunburn on my virgin back skin.

And that ends this session of chill the hell out Steph. I'm tired and sunburned and still basking in the glow of amazing no strings attached sex!

How was your 4th of July? I hope you saw fireworks too!

**P.S. -- I have a date with TextGuy tomorrow. The hickey has finally faded enough that I don't need to wear a damn turtleneck. I'll keep you posted.

Mmmm, honey

I am not the piss people off just for fun kind of person. In fact, I'm not overly fond of pissed off people in general. So, I do try to avoid making waves. I am actually a subscriber to the "You catch more flies with honey" way of thinking despite the fact that the addage makes absolutely no fucking sense whatsoever. You'll catch the most flies with a giant noxious pile of shit. I'm just saying. That's beside the point though - over there, smelling up the place. We're going to ignore the odor of the crappy addage and move on now. Ready? So, sweetness gets you what you want, right? Typically. I'm here to tell you though that there are exceptions. Sometimes you have to bust out the assholery to get anything done.

There's this event coming up. Plans have been set for months. I've been resting a little easy on this one. I was ahead of schedule. All good, people, all good. Relax, no worries. Have another cocktail - until - *Dun dun duuuun* The phone call. MsHotelBitch called me to explain that somehow our room had been over-booked and that we would no longer have BigAssConferenceRoom. Instead we would have the dark supply closet on the 13th floor behind the smoking lounge and under the sweaty gym towels. In response to this I tried to be nice. I tried to joke and commiserate with her difficult situation. I tried to gently remind her of the many emails we shared confirming BigAssConferenceRoom as well as the 3 month old signed contract. She was nice back. She joked back. She remembered the emails and the contract. She handed me the key to the 3x3 cupboard. And that was when I had had ENOUGH.

My children have always had a natural understanding of ENOUGH. I think it's genetic. Hard wired into their genes. Both ExMom and my momma used "That is ENOUGH" while raising us. Thus it was only natural that Ex and I use it and that the Things freeze in their tracks before the Fffff sound can even roll off our lips. In truth, I can send any one of their friends and most of the neighborhood dogs scurrying for home with a quiet "That's ENOUGH." -- This woman? She didn't have a single "ENOUGH" chromosome in her body.

She could tell that I was not going to walk quietly away, content to be conferencing inside a lunchbox. Still, she was insistant that she simply had to ignore obligations and accountability. Somebody's brother's uncle-inlaw was connected to the local firehydrant maker's union and they requested the room 2 hours ago. She had no choice, don't you see? As she was explaining how her hands were tied, somehow she let it slip that somebody, the one with the brother who has an uncle-inlaw; Somebody. Was. Her. Boyfriend. With that, she had pushed the teeny tiny button that would bring me to a screeching halt. I hung up the phone, put together a very professional email explaining how contractual obligations were being dismissed based on an employee's romantic relationship and a desire to fulfill favors. I called back and asked to speak to Manager. While on the phone, I requested Manager's email address and hit send. I then gave him my name and phone number, asking him to call me after he had read the email so we could discuss. Manager called me back after about 37 seconds. It would be handled. It would be taken care of immediately. I'm so sorry... sorry... free dinner on us...

So, I guess it should be noted that when Sassy has had ENOUGH! it is wise to remember that not only do I know how to dribble honey down a hot sexy body, I also know how to shoot to kill.
Quick. Easy. ENOUGH.

Mother of the year...

This is probably NOT what the Wedding Rings guy had in mind when he asked me to talk about his gorgeous loveley wonderful rings...


Thing1 still has the ring. (I however do not have pictures because until 3 days ago he thought he had lost the ring and that I would be mad because the Wedding Rings guy would be mad and make me pay eleventy kajillion dollars for not posting more pictures of the ring. Then, the ring was found. Hoorah.*) Last night, while out to dinner, Thing1's uncle noticed the ring and being the wonderful smart ass that he is (love him! ~ Hi Matty!) asked "Who are you married to?" To which Thing1 quickly responded: My Right Hand. I do not know whether he made the comment knowing full well what he was implying or if it took seeing his father and uncle's faces turning purple from laughter for him to realize what he had done. I don't think I like 13 anymore.

Not to be outdone, Thing2 proudly told his uncle (again, Hi Matty. Are you going to let me babysit your offspring some day?) that last week I hit him in the balls and made his tooth fall out. SIGH. OK, OK, while factual, my lovely Thing was being a bit misleading. The tooth was one we have been waiting to fall out. It was one the orthodontist was watching very carefully. It was hanging on by a spit thread. I did not knock out one of his firmly held teeth. Also, the balls were actually ONE ball. It was my big exercise ball that he was holding in his general ball region while seranading his brother with ACDC's Big Balls. I walked by mid-concert and while rolling my eyes, gave the thing a pop. This apparently startled my son so much his mouth closed quickly and the tooth broke loose. See, it's really not as bad as it originally sounded. No need to call CPS, I swear!

*I did not and will not receive any form of monetary compensation for pimping out Superior Wedding Rings. They sent me the ring and if I loved it, I would talk about it. I am not the one wearing it but I do still love it. It is regularly abused like only a 13 year old boy can do and there's not a scratch on it. It is shiny and gorgeous.


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Blogging in the shower causes 2nd degree burns

Harley slept through the night last night. Of course when I got up with him this morning he had a turd stuck in his butt hair. At 7 AM I'm taking a scissors to my dog's ass. Don't you wish you had my life?

Speaking of the dog. Who the hell had the great idea of making me responsible for another thing that eats and craps and pees? Trying to do something complicated like showering has become even more complicated by the fact that I have a baby. A baby who cries when I'm more than 2 inches from him. And then he gets brave and wanders 6 inches away and piddles. On. The. Floor. Crying and peeing. Did I really sign up for this? All you mothers of little babies are laughing at me right now. I know. And I get it. I have been chasing around my Things trying to keep them from peeing on the floor for over 13 years now. OK, that's not true. They never peed on the floor. And therein lies my problem. I could slap a diaper on a kid, toss him in the crib and ignore his whimpers long enough to oh, I don't know, brush my teeth maybe? But the puppy? He pees. He pees in random places at random times. It's a damn good thing he's cute because the peeing? I'm not a fan. Of course, he is only 9 weeks old right now so I don't think he even knows when he's peeing, and it will get better. Better much faster than you all can teach your kids to quit biting their sister and drawing on the walls, so there is that.

Speaking of peeing on the floor... well no, there wasn't any peeing involved in this story but I couldn't come up with a good transition. There's something y'all need to know about me. I'm a freaking awesome blogger. I tell the most amazing random wandering stream of consciousness stories. The problem is that I never come up with these stories when my cheeks are planted in front of the computer. Of course not. My muse likes to strike when I'm driving or watching a movie or showering. Yes, some of my best blogging material happens pops into my head while I'm naked. Now don't you feel dirty? This morning when I was trying to NOT think about the puppy peeing and crying I was also getting clean, or dirty, depending on how you want to look at it. I have a waterproof toy and since I'm not having sex right now (another story) I am stocking up on batteries. So while I'm, well, you know, suddenly I start thinking about a post. The not having sex post. Composing it in my head knowing full well that I will have forgotten at least half of the witty remarks before my boobs are dry. But still, I'm mentally composing when my water tight love toy was not so water tight. And I was shocked. Yes. I'll let you think about that for a minute.
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...
...
So now that my girly bits are singed and I completely forgot to shave my left leg, what with the smoke coming from between my thighs... I've decided that you all do not belong in my shower anymore. You're distracting and as much as I love you, I need my space too.

As for the not having sex. I'm not having it right now. Perhaps I'll explain more later. After I put burn cream on my party place.

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Days of Grace: 32

1. Men who say what they are thinking
2. Getting the insurance company to finally agree to cover water damage from CHRISTMAS!
3. Destroying the Things in a nerf gun war
4. No matter the circumstances of the day/week/month/year, up or down, knowing that life is so good and that I am fucking fabulous!___________________________________
   

Yeah, I remember

In an immediate follow up to my last post, I read THIS over at MamaPop.

Yes Black Hockey Jesus, I do remember feeling exactly like that. Which is why I'm so afraid.

Go read it. He describes the desperate teenage want and need of something perfectly.
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The Last Word

The Things and I were playing a game called The Last Word. It is incredibly simple in theory but very un-simple to execute. My brain goes dead as soon as someone hits the button and I end up saying something brilliant like Bullfrog Toenails for "Things That Need To Be Trimmed" and start with the letter "B."

Efective immediatly, I will forever concede to Thing1 in this game:
The Letter: V
The Topic: Things found in a bathroom

I come out with Vaseline and patiently wait for the buzzer to go off in the following silence. And then I notice my son's face turning purple.

Sassy- What?
Thing1- I can't say it. It's in-ah-proh-pree-ut
Thing2- YESSSsssss! What is it? His 11 year old glee has him practically bouncing out of his chair.
Sassy- Oh come on now. You brought it up. Now spill it
SassyTheInnerMonologue - OMG, he's gonna say Vibrator. Please don't let him say Vibrator.
Thing1 laughing so hard his eyeballs are 75% out of his head: No. No. I just. I can't.
SassyTIM- It has to be vibrator. They know I hoard batteries like a squirl preparing for an Ice Age but I don't think they actually found my toy box... OMG! MY TOY BOX!
Thing2- Mom looks like she's going to puke. This is awesome!
Thing1- See, it's really bad. I can't say it.
Sassy- OK, just say it already
Thing1- ...
...
...
... V A G I N A!!!!!

Sassy- *crickets*

How did I miss that one? I am in awe of the boy. Game. Set. Match.

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Days of Grace: 25

Silly little gifts that create memories which last long after

the plastic arms fall off of Do-Wah-Diddy.

My Aunt is dying.

The Things and I were talking about her last night and THIS made us laugh so hard we could pretend our tears were happy ones, for a least a moment.

I'm sure you don't get it. You sort of had to be there. But they remembered these ugly little toys and the retarded video that she gave them and could not stop talking about.

How can we explain to her just how much she will be missed? Impossible.

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Wordless Wednesday - Dancing in the rain