Creative Ways to Wake Up Your Husband That Don't Work

The husband laid down for a nap before work and asked me to wake him up at 9. I set the alarm, and at 9, I realized, "Wait, he never wakes up." Like there are times where I try to wake him up, tell him things like, "By the way, it's going to be $500 for her teeth. We're going to have to sell my body for sex to afford this," and he'll agree and forget the entire conversation took place because he was sleep talking.

I knew this was going to be a challenge.

So I sat abruptly on the bed, which opened his eyes really wide like he just fell off a cliff in a dream, and then I burped loudly.

"How's that for an alarm?"

He started to close his eyes again, so I proceeded to breathe in his face. My breath is pretty bad at this point.

He kept moving his face away from mine (I don't know why), and then he started to close his eyes again. So I grabbed him by the balls, cupped em, and with his balls in my hand, I proceeded to kiss his stomach (because that tickles him, and the balls were in my hand to protect myself from retaliation).

He farted and went back to sleep.

I licked his belly again, and then we had a conversation about sex, showers, my armpits, and his workplace, and then he drifted back to sleep.

So then I bit his nipple. He grabbed my nipple, and we proceeded in a nipple gripping war. When I declared peace, he went right back to sleep like this never happened.

So I sent in the kids. I even told them for the first time in ever, "Go jump on my bed." They did. They got hugs and kisses.

Would you believe he's still asleep?

So I wrote this blog post while it was all fresh in my head, and finally, he had to use the bathroom. Nothing gets you up better than having to use the bathroom. I'm probably going to surprise smack him in the face with my boob just for putting me through all this.


UPDATE: So I read him this blog post, and he has absolutely no recollection of any of this taking place.

Pardon my childish it's not fair I didn't get my way tears; I really am happy for those who got to go. Sniff Sniff.

I've been toasting every shot of vodka since Thursday to random Mom Bloggers, in my kitchen, with the fish (who doesn't drink). 

I really wanted to be in Chicago right now. In fact, I feel like a child on the inside, like underneath this cool, calm, responsible exterior, I'm crying, kicking things, screaming, rocking with hysterical overdramatic taking in breaths freaking out, it's not fair. Then I'm cool for a minute, totally forget all about it, and boom, I see a picture of everyone else in Chicago and I'm actually feeling jealousy. I'm not playing. I'm not just saying it because it sounds like it would be a normal response. I really am jealous. I'm not jealous of the women in the pictures. I'm jealous of every item that surrounds them in the picture. The Lazyboy sign. I could be that sign photobombing a good picture.

Right now, in Chicago, there's a "silly little" convention going on called Blog Her. Silly Little would be my husband's view. To me, it's the Disney World of theme parks. It has attracted some of my favorite bloggers who I've not only been reading for years, but i fell in love with their personalities so fast and so hard, I did the whole stalkery thing and found their asses on Facebook and added them as friends (for professional networking purposes, yeah), so we've also been chatting too. Only thing is, I have not actually met them Face to Face, though Facebook has the word Face in it but it's not the same thing. Now a lot of them are in one spot, drinking, without me.

Why am I not there? One the money. The sad reality is the Fairy Godmother doesn't show up last second to help you get your ass to the ball. Instead, life throws balls at you, extra curveballs to remove all options, like life picks up where the stepsisters left off. The moment I said, "I think I will save some money," that's when the husband decides to do some shopping spree on the internet. THEN, life is like, "I think your car should die, forever, and this next paycheck you think you are getting, it won't happen, and that health insurance that covers 90% that is shit hot? Yeah you're about to find out what a deductible is, and it's a lot bigger when in your face isn't it? and oh, there's your tax refund coming. Well you guys probably need a vacation since your husband's plant went on strike last summer (for the insurance), so let me just delay that for you by about 3 months, which is coincidentally the length of summer."

And Two, I don't have a babysitter for when the husband's at work. We are talking obnoxious hours, like whoever was watching the kids while I was gone would have to stay at my house while I'm gone with a 4 hour break at best in between the husband's shifts and sleep. I have one person I can count on for something like that, so I'd be very dependent on that one person's schedule. It's a lot to ask of someone too because my mom won't do that. I really wouldn't want to ask my mom because she's old and my kids are a handful. It would be like asking, "Hey mom, do you mind triggering your arthritis into unimaginable pain just so I can go get drunk in Chicago?" Yeah, doesn't sound too grown up on my part.

And then there's all the reasons listed here... 101 Excuses for Not Going To BlogHer 2013

So I'm not going. Instead, I'm staring at their pictures with envy. I've been to Chicago a few times. I saw it. I can still see the city from the lake. I can still see the lake from my old hotel room. I'm not jealous of people going to Chicago. I'm jealous of Chicago for getting to visit with those people.

And I just wanted to point out an observation... From the photographs I'm seeing, I've decided there's two main types of bloggers out there. Blonds and Brunettes. Like it looks like two families of related people. The blonds have a round face, button nose, and a fun loving smile. All the brunettes have longer faces, perky noses, and a Britishy tea time looking smile. Okay, some brunettes dyed their hair blond, but we know they should be brunettes with their Tea Time Laura Croft Smiles. Because I totally fit the Brunette description, I would have fit in. I just know it. These people are one of those tribes Nikki was talking about in her BLOG POST HERE.

But look at these pictures...

From Insane in the Mom Brain's Facebook

Patti (Insane); Nikki (MWDAS); and Rachael (RachRiot)

Look at them... They appear like normal women hugging in front of the LaZboy sign that should have been me with a goofy face, but in reality, these are some of the smartest, funniest, most diabolical masterminds of the interwebs.

Crumb Diaries, Insane Mom Brain, I Want a Dumpster Baby

From Kelley's Break Room's Facebook Page

Rebecca from Frugalista Blog, Kelley, and Rachael (RachRiot)

Sue from The Spin Cycle and Kelley from Kelley's Break Room

This came from I Want a Dumpster Baby's Facebook Page. They all look related to me. Like they all came from the same momma who just happens to have a bunch of baby daddys in her life. 

Some stupid Air Force story because why not?

So a grunt on the Grunt Facebook page I like shared a story about BMT. I can't tell these guys my stories because I was Air Force, and Army guys always thinks they are bigger more ferocious people, so everything I say is invalid (well that and I'm a girl and should be making sammiches in their small minds, and I'm the type of girl who serves men knuckle sandwiches so yeah...). I know the truth about the branches. I'm cool. Some Army are badasses, yes, but when shit gets crazy, too hot to handle, who do they call? The Air Force. and duh. Air Force spawned from the Army. We became our own branch when we met aliens. People need to learn their history... So with that said...

In tech school, during the weekends, we had regular instructors act as our MTL's (babysitters). I liked these guys because we didn't know enough about each other to hate each other yet. So, of course, that means I'm comfortable enough to fuck with them on a meaningless level. I go to the acting MTL who was playing cards with people, and I told him so and so had a stripper in their room. He freaked the fuck out. Threw his cards. Stood up cussing like he was about to kick some ass. He marched, stomped, like a toddler throwing a fit, all the way to the room, with a possy of Air Force students all ready to stir the shit pot. He pounded on the door like the police. The door opens, and as he opens his mouth to scream, he sees it. The floor stripper. That thing where you strip the old wax off the floor... He turned red, apologized for bothering anyone, his possy was cracking up, and they left with their tails between their legs...

And NO, I didn't get in any trouble over it. Dude had a sense of humor. 

Playing the Autism Card

I've seen many versions of these on the internets. Some parents actually hand these out to people. For those who don't realize, a common theme in the lives of parents of children on the autism spectrum is to take our kids in public, I know, gasp, and receive a very inviting welcome from the strangers of the world. By inviting welcome, I mean a bunch of dirty looks, criticism on our parenting skills, criticism of our children, and basic asshattery.

You can read one of my previous posts about that: Dear Dr. Phil Wannabes of Walmart. 

I don't think people who intervene in that manner are ignorant of autism. I think they are mean people. They are just assholes. Think about it. Your kid is freaking out. You are almost in tears, kneeling down trying to tame your child while watching and handling the other kids. You obviously have things to do that is being interrupted with all this. Everyone is upset. Who the fuck approaches people in that kind of emotionally charged situation to insult people? That's not a dumbass. That's a total asshole. That's a bully. They targeted you because you are having a weak moment.

And when they intervene with their ridiculous opinions, they really make the situation harder on the parent and the kid. It's very common with autism or kids in general for kids to run off and/or do really stupid shit when they are upset or overly hyper. So when you distract the parent from the child in that kind of situation, it better be fucking important because you are risking that child's safety when you do. 

That type of threat deserves very little mercy. I used to just hit them with the grocery cart, or drop something on their foot, but since assault isn't something I really want on my permanent record, I now have resorted to shenanigans and debauchery.

I'd rather just scream at them really loudly something random for everyone to hear and be like "What the fuck did they just say to you?" Here's a list of some things I got for now, for the assholes... Use them wisely because you never know when karma is going to strike back, or how it will....

For those who don't know the experience... You are at Walmart. Your kid asks for something that's 50 bucks. You say no. They stomp. Beg. Argue. You hold your ground. You are ready to walk to the next aisle, and they refuse to go. So you start trying to drag them to the best of your ability since you have 2 other kids in the cart, and they flip the fuck out on you. Throwing a huge fit for that 50 dollar Made in China plastic toy. They are so pissed off by now that if you offered to give them the toy, which you would never do, they wouldn't take it. It's a big FUCK YOU and everyone who looks like you meltdown. You're not sure what to do because for you to handle the one kid, you'd have to abandon the other 2. So you spank your kid, "Cmon, we're leaving." And the kid wails louder and throws herself on the ground. So you are starting to concoct a plan of sticking that kid in the cart and making the other two walk. Meanwhile, some asshat who witnessed a portion of your event tells you it's child abuse to spank your kid, or "control your kids," or "I can't believe you just said that to your kid," or "just pick the kid up and leave," as if their fat ass could handle carrying a kicking and screaming kid pushing a cart with a fucked up wheel with 2 kids in it.... Some of them will go so far to call CPS on you, or Walmart will make you wait in the store for CPS to arrive because sitting in an office with 3 kids while one is still melting down is obviously a solution. So this is how I respond to the asshat.

NOTE: I do not really condone spanking an autistic kid mid meltdown. It was just an example. If you didn't spank, the asshat would tell you to spank your kid. It doesn't matter what you do. They will tell you to do the opposite of what you did or you suck. 

What? No I do NOT wish to buy a video of you fondling a goat!

I'm sorry, I don't know where they keep the hemorrhoid cream or the KY Jelly.

Tylenol will not cure your Clap. 

The Diet Pills I think are over there in aisle 14. You better hurry.

You know they have mouthwash here, as well as breath mints. You might want to add that to your list.

Excuse you? I happen to like what the person over there is wearing.

You cheated on your spouse with who?

Three Hundred Dollars for Sex?

Did you just call that guy a n-word? He just called you the n-word. Seriously. I just heard him say it. 

The people who work here are neither overpaid nor lazy, and they definitely do not deserve to go to hell. 

You want to do what with a cucumber? 

I don't have any dimes or bags!

And my favorite for while the kid is melting down...

What did you just say to my kid to make him cry like that?



~~THESE ARE MY STORIES AND I'M STICKING TO THEM~~