Enchilada machine!

As I just titled that I had a lovely thought...if I could have an enchilada machine that made me nothing but cheese enchiladas with green onions I would be happy forever...anyway...
I am the enchilda machine. Vegetarian corn and black bean sour cream enchiladas to be exact. Three big pans of them. Now go ahead, ask me what we are having for dinner. Yes you are correct, fried chicken from the gorcery store! At least that's what the hubs is having...I am not hungry (except for cheese enchiladas) and the kids are outside playing so I have no idea what they want.

Why is Mommy Mad tonight???

Because it's 1:39 and I have the massive hootie owls and need to go to bed, but I'm not tired. The sleep doctor is going to be so mad that I haven't been sleeping 7-8 hours a night. I just can't do it. He says that sleeping helps you maintain a healthy weight.
And I am not really mad today wasn't horrible other than getting hounded to take the girls to the pool from the moment I woke up. I did take them...it was lovely to have a stress free two hours. And they cleaned their nasty bathroom to get to go.

Why Mad Mommy

I have other blogs...well technically I have other blogs with much more fun names, but I can't recall the passwords. To be honest I didn't even remember this one, but here it is, so I will use it. Mad Mommy was named that because at the time I felt a little crazy, dealing with the girls and teaching. Now, it's even more true, except there is another small human in the mix and I am not teaching. Moving was a good thing, don't get me wrong. I love our house, we have nice neighbors (even if they give me the number to Supernanny), and there are flowers everywhere. California is laid back and I'm sure interesting, except we never go anywhere. We can't go anywhere because neither of the cars can hold all of us now, but oh well. And I guess that makes me a little crazy. The girls are older...13 and 12. I don't remember being mean and hateful to my mother, but if I ever was I am so sorry. It seems like the oldest tries to be hurtful on a daily basis. I am a HORRIBLE mother because all I ever do is clean the house, cook food and take care of the baby, who is the most STUPID baby EVER and because I won't play the Wii with her. Oh and I won't take her to the grocery store to buy a soda or let her pay to take us out to dinner (apparently I am a HORRIBLE cook since she asks to eat out EVERY night). I wouldn't let her buy a swimsuit that was two sizes too big and would have fallen off when it was wet-EVIL. I offered to pay the difference in the cost of a swimsuit that fit, but wouldn't just give her the money-TERRIBLE. I told her I would give her 20.00 to make up for the 20.00 she lost in the dressing room trying on the swimsuits so she could get something but not a toy-HORRIBLE. I won't take her to the pool in her swimsuit from last year that's way too small and falls down in the front and rides up in the back-AWFUL. I want her to shower every night because she has P.E. everyday and well, frankly she smells-LAME. I make fish sticks and salad for dinner-GROSS. I make meatloaf for dinner-BARF. I tell her to eat a piece of fruit-DUMB. I know that teenagers are hard to deal with, but her attitude makes it very hard to like her. My heart aches for her. I want her to be respectful and smart, but I get hate and failing grades. I want her to have friends and be healthy, but I get daily chronicles of how much all the people at school hate her and food being turned down because it's remotely good for her. I think she would live on processed chicken patties and cake if she could. I want her to do simple chores (sweep, put laundry in the dryer, rinse the dishes etc.) and some days I get a cheerful helper, but most days I get eye rolls and sighs and no help. I am so jealous of the relationship that other mothers have with their daughters that I feel embarrassed for myself. I wanted to be the mom who kept a perfect house, made delicious food, volunteered at school and was really cool. I wanted to sew cute little dresses and make quilts with them, teach them to make dolls and to cook...but I can't.
This post has veered off course I think...I need to talk to someone. More later.

Whoa..how did I get here again?

Oh look, I am alive, kicking and blogging. When last I typed I believe I was 40, fat and the mother of two. Hmmm, time- but not- fat flies. I now live across the continent, have an almost 11 month old baby (imagine my surprise) and had a couple of birthdays in there...oh and I am still fat. I didn't even know this account still exsisted, but hey, I'll make a go of it again.

I told you so...

I tried to tell you. I am terrible about keeping the blog up. It's not that I don't have tons to say, it's just that I suffer from a horrible time management condition. I try, but it just never seems like I can get it all done. Maybe I suffer from the myth that I am indeed Superman's lumpy twin sister, maybe it's because I lack motivation...maybe just maybe I have too much to do.
I've been trying to get all my school stuff done. I want to be able to press the magic button on my laptop and enter my grades early so that I can spend my workday moving rooms. Weeeee. I like my room. It feels like mine. I hate having to share. And I hate it when the kids come in after we have all sat there eating our lovely school lunches (three weeks of school, three times we have been served hot dogs) and comment on how the room smells.
But anyway.
I promise to try and keep up better. Really, and I will try to care just a little more.

And blah...

I don't feel good. I feel blah and yucky and I can't talk about a whisper. My husband commented "how very tragic." I am believing he meant it in a "I'm sorry you are ailing my fairest love" sort of way and not in a "Thank God I'll get to go right to sleep instead of listening to you politely way." Maybe I'll just infect him.

Well yuck...

I survived the first day back at school. It was very strangely quiet this morning in the hall. The little darlings just saved it up till they got to class. I really am not liking eight graders and certain sixth graders. If I survive this year and we don't move* please oh please* I want to beg to have an advanced class and a everybody else class for eight grade. I will have had the ones I choose for it for the third year. I just feel like it would better serve them to have a more advanced class.
Saw Eragon tonight. I adored the dragon. And I like Jeremy Irons. Call me plebian but I liked the movie. I feel more than a little ill however from the popcorn and pizza. Or maybe it was the disgusting hot dog from lunch. I have got to remember to take the lunch I make from home.