100 Dead Bodies (or: PLEASE pick me to be the SITS representative for PestWorld.org)

There are a hundred dead bodies in my kitchen. They are splattered around the walls like a Trading Spaces episode gone wrong. Personally, I would rather have some freak of nature PAINT MY WHITE CARPET RED (WHAT?! It REALLY happened--back before having children destroyed my hang-around-in-my-PJs- (I was going to say UNDERWEAR, but I want you to be able to sleep tonight) and-watch-random- television-shows-days) than have a hundred dead bodies covering my walls. Just sayin'...

I finally snapped on Monday night. I couldn't take it anymore. The last time I felt this way it was about the floor in my house in Montana THREE years ago and there were no dead bodies. Thankfully, though my husband and children were pushing it. That particular time, I was scraping hardened oatmeal off of the floor for the ELEVENTH time that week (it was Tuesday) when some poor child had the misfortune of being THE ONE who dropped frozen (yet defrosted enough to REALLY do the job) blueberries. On my head. And on the floor. That I had JUST cleaned and washed. On my hands and knees. With my freshly showered hands. Yes--I took a SHOWER that day. THAT was definitely the straw.

Anyone who met me after January 17th 2009, knew a person who NEVER washed her floor. EVER. Everyone who knew me BEFORE that date knew a person who RARELY washed her floor. BIG DIFFERENCE. People would come to my house and try to take their shoes off and I would accost them at the front door noting,
"My floors are far dirtier than your shoes could EVER be and you will probably leave here with peanut butter and chili on your sock."
"You made chili?"
"Two weeks ago...and I don't want to TALK about the peanut butter."

This was my way of dealing with THAT breakdown. That was BEFORE little gnats (or fruit flys) invaded my home. I don't believe those bugs (and they are called "BUGS" for a REASON!) exist in Montana. *SIGH* Montana...(cue soft music for my brief reverie...thank you). Who would have thought that a place I referred to as "MonFREAKINtana" before we lived there would be so close to my heart. I love Montana. FRUIT-FLYLESS, GANGLESS, ROAD RAGE-LESS, Corwinless, Montana. But I digress...again. I KNOW what I was talking about because a little gnat is CRAWLING ON MY SCREEN and when I smash his little face in, I'm not sure if my husband will be pleased that I can no longer use the computer, or ticked that HE can no longer use the computer.

I decided to wait it out with the gnat. He's looking at me and I at him, but no one is making the move. The thing is, I will be able to "visit" him later with my (now broken) hot pink swatter that took care of hundreds of his little buddies. And my glass cabinet. And a vase from my mother. And almost my middle child. Yes, sacrifices had to be made, but don't judge. On Monday night I went all Norman Bates on their...wings? and slashed through  my kitchen like Freddie Krueger on Elm street. Yes, I am aware that most of you weren't even IN THE WOMB when either movie came out, but EDUCATE yourselves, people. Watch a little "Remember the eighties (seventies, nineties...)" on VH1 (YES, it IS a channel) and come play when you are done. You won't be disappointed.

So now I have black-spotted crown molding and little black splatters all over my ceiling. My cupboards (the ones that did not break in the attack) have a faux-bug-polka-dot finish. When I get going with my (now broken) (yes, I know I told you, but I'm really annoyed that a gnat the size of a sliver (and equally as painful) was able to split my swatter in half at the top. NO--I DON'T THINK I HAVE RAGE ISSUES--THANK YOU.) hot pink fly swatter, no one is safe. I heard my husband say to my children, 'Mommy's gone to the bad place again," and knew he was right. Though I AM winning the fight and will not go down until every last gnat-fruit-fly-bug is splattered somewhere in my house. Even if it's under the dried oatmeal and blueberries.

Pee-ka

I ran into a wall today. No, I'm not speaking metaphorically--I LITERALLY ran into a wall this morning. Okay, I LITERALLY danced into a wall this morning. I was zumba-ing like a maniac and as I shimmied back, I heard a thud and realized it was me. If I would have shimmied a little more to the left I would have hit the mat, but I shimmied right into the concrete. Fun times!

This wasn't even in my difficult zumba class--you know, the one with classmates who are not in AARP. If I had done it in that class I would have felt less shame if only because it moves so fast that no one would notice. Instead I did it in the AARP class--most of the members of this class are also in my yoga/body ball class and remembered my tumble into the pipes. I know I've covered falls several times on here, but I still have so many more to share with you. I guess today wasn't really a fall necessarily, but it made the AARP ladies talk. In the next (more advanced) zumba class I look like I am having a stroke each day, but I hope that if I stick with it I will eventually be able to move without falling and endangering others. Hopefully.

It seems like I am constantly hurting myself. I'd like to say that this is new, but I would be lying. My first year in college, my friends and I went out to dinner off campus. The restaurant was Casey's and it is irrelevant, though I needed to show my brain that I could remember it.When I go out to eat, I consume a ridiculous amount of water. I always have, though now we think it is a symptom of one of my medical... anomalies. This particular night  I drank about ten Pizza Hut-sized glasses of water and did not use the restroom. We chatted, I drank more. Chat, drink, chat, drink...leave.

I didn't think about using the restroom until we tried to squeeze into my friend's car. I could have gone inside, but I didn't. First, no one wanted to have to wait for me, and second, I didn't want to go back. I thought I would be fine. We parked in front of the dorm and I hobbled to the door. I was almost home-free, but the combination of an ice patch and my dress shoes sent me flying and landing on my tailbone. There was instantly a puddle surrounding me. I was mortified, but I could not stop laughing which made me pee more. I was laughing so hard, it looked like I was bawling. Some guy friends of ours were leaving the dorm and saw me on the ground. They saw me "crying" and all of my friends laughing. I will never forget my friend Scott's look of disgust as he reprimanded my friends for being so mean to me. 'You guys aren't even going to help her?! Here, Nika, let me help you up..." I remember the terror that ran through me at that moment. "I will not get up," I thought. "...ever!"

I just shook my head at Scott and refused to move. He stayed for way too long as far as I'm concerned, but he finally gave up and left me alone. Maybe the smell of urine was wafting through his nostrils by that point. Even after he left I refused to get up. I truly thought I would sit there forever. I'd laugh, then cry, then sit. Finally my "girls" formed a circle around me and covered my bottom half with jackets and bodies, inching our way to the showers. From that day forward one of my friends (who shall remain nameless, Chrissy!) called me Pee-ka and we would all bust out into laughter. Okay...maybe I didn't  love the nickname at first, but it really was one of the funniest (and admittedly, the most disgusting and embarrassing) things to happen to me. Of course, there are SOOO many things that I have done to try to hurt or maim myself, though few resulted in the laughs after that lovely Casey's dinner...

 Recently we helped our dear friends move. No, we aren't really as good and nice as this makes us sound. These particular friends have helped us with our own move (the husband, we'll cal him Lad, drove our U-Haul across the country nearly killing himself in the process. THEY are good people. WE are just returning the favor!), so it was the least we could do. Because of the fact that I am a walking nightmare and my bazillion (it's a number) illnesses render me useless to the whole moving thing, I was on kid duty. We had a great and fun day and returned as they were closing up the truck. I felt like a big jerk for not being able to help, especially because everyone was singing my praises for doing things like swimming in the lake (fully clothed of course...that's how we roll...), playing at the arcade, and eating ice cream. It was a rough day--I'm lucky I made it!

Event though they had unloaded the truck and the cars, there were boxes everywhere, so I was able to unload some things which helped me to feel more useful. The next morning we wanted to help a little before we had to head home. My friend...let's call her Madaline...and I were talking about where to put everything. She has a gorgeous throw rug that she thought would look great underneath the table in the dining room. Madaline had to deal with cable or phone or something, so I thought I would roll out the carpet (so to speak) and get the dining room done for her before I had to leave. I always want to be that friend who gets things done for you and who makes you feel so happy that I came to "help." Unfortunately, I am the friend who kinda makes things worse and who needs that friend to help me to function in life!

The rug was rolled and taped and seemed easy enough to maneuver. I set it on the table and pulled the tape off of it.Somehow, as I bent down to get the tape off of the bottom roll of the rug, it did a see-saw sort of move, slammed into the ceiling fan (brand new with an extremely thick brushed glass light cover on it) and fell on my head. Yes, my head. As it was falling, I saw Madaline enter the room, a look of horror on her face. I was pretty sure that I looked like Carrie at the prom, but luckily, no blood was drawn. I had shards of glass covering my upper extremities and was a little afraid to move or to blink, but I came out of it with two cuts on my forearm that make people question whether or not I'm a cutter. other than that (and an enormous bump on my head), I was fine. The ceiling fan, however...that had seen better days!

So much for being the friend who helps! I'm more like "...the friend who ruins your things and then gets hospitalized..." No one wants to be that friend! At least I didn't pee, right?! 

LOVELY BLOGS!

Thank you Moore Organized Mayhem for this One Lovely Blog Award! It felt so great 

to be recognized and to know that someone is still reading! It also gives me an idea 

of what to write about since I seem to be embracing an eleven-month case of writer's 

block! If you haven't visited Moore Organized Mayhem on her blog or on facebook, you 

should do it now--she is so much fun and always has a smile or a laugh. 

Thanks again!

My nominees for the One Lovely Blog Award:

1. Your Doctor's Wife  I feel like Emma and I have been friends for years. Her posts will have 
you cracking up whether you are a doctor, a wife, a doctor's wife, a doctor's husband, a nurse, 
an orderly, or just a guy named Ralph. She. Is. Funny. Check out 
Show me Your Juicy Boobs Please--it may be one of the funniest posts 

I've ever read. Really.

2. Living in Kellie's World Joe (and Kellie) are so funny and Joe does a great job 
of bringing us into Kellie's world--a hilarious place to be, I must add. I was also lucky 
enough to win my first (and only) blog prize from Joe--though that had no influence on 
me (yes, I can be bought and I do love book stores (it was a GC for B&N. B-a-r-n-e-s 
and N-o-b-l-e. It's a BOOK store. A book is something you read. Before Kindle and i-Pads, 
books were used almost exclusively. There are PAGES...forget it.), but I'd like to think that 
$25 wouldn't be quite enough for me to sell out. Make it thirty and we'll talk!) Check out 
his post Meno-Poise--I swear I don't only love it because I am living it right now...

3. Daddy Knows Less His post today would be worth looking at simply because 
of his picture of "Peanut" at the pumpkin patch. CLASSIC.

4. The Underachiever's Guide to being a Domestic Goddess--She is gorgeous AND funny--and she 
made sure she remembered me when I went off the grid. THAT is something! 
This post really had me laughing--you will, too!

AAAAAAANNNNNNNNDDDDDD...

5. My SISTAH from another MISTAH...A Little Lucidity and I could chat for HOURS...and we 
have! She recently celebrated her one year Blogoversary. Hopefully that means she will be back 
to guest post...

7 random things about yourself:

1. I have a big toe the size of Rhode Island.

2. I have somehow been blessed with the most amazing friends anyone could ever hope to 
have. really. It is actually a bit bizarre that wherever I go (even virtually on my blog!) 
I meet THE most amazingly nice, helpful, and GIVING people. It ALWAYS happens and 
I really don't deserve it. I DO appreciate it.

3. I do not like to share my water bottle with ANYONE. EVER. Of course, when people 
are looking and judging and my children are nearing dehydration, I will allow them to 
drink, but that is RARE. In high school (you know...back when the first water bottles 
were "invented," we brought bottles to our field hockey game. My friend did not have 
one and she asked me for a sip. I watched the water go into her mouth and come right 
back down into my Evian. needless to say, I gave her that bottle and was done sharing 
water after that day.

4. I played field hockey for like fourteen seconds my senior year of high school. I was not good.

5. I danced for like nine years, yet when I try to "Zumba" everyone runs for cover.

6. For years I would carry around Styrofoam McDonald's or Chik-fil-A cups full of water. 
Students would tell me that I was hurting the environment. When I told them that I used 
the same cup for a week or two and washed it, I was told, "You are so Ghetto, Miss Corwin..." 

7. My husband and I think we are on a sitcom. We BOTH expect to hear a laugh reel 
whenever we say something we deem to be funny. We need help.

LOVELY BLOGS!

Thank you Moore Organized Mayhem for this One Lovely Blog Award! It felt so great 

to be recognized and to know that someone is still reading! It also gives me an idea 

of what to write about since I seem to be embracing an eleven-month case of writer's 

block! If you haven't visited Moore Organized Mayhem on her blog or on facebook, you 

should do it now--she is so much fun and always has a smile or a laugh. 

Thanks again!



Like with most things, winning blog awards usually comes with rules--the good news is, 
the rules are generally fun to follow and help to get the creative juices flowing.  
The rules this time are:

* Include the blog award in your post.    CHECK    (This one is not so eas y a task for me, 
as every time I try to add a button or do anything but...type...on my blog I end up deleting 
things and making a complete mess of it...hence the strange stolen format...I really need to 
take a class...)

* Thank the person who nominated you.  CHECK   But I will do it again...THANK YOU 

Moore's Organized Mayhem!

* Nominate 5 people and let them know you have done so. CHECK  Well, I still have to let 
them know, but for the sake of argument, let's say, CHECK!

* Tell 7 random things about yourself.  CHECK  Enjoy!

My nominees for the One Lovely Blog Award:

Your Doctor's Wife  I feel like Emma and I have been friends for years. Her posts will have 
you cracking up whether you are a doctor, a wife, a doctor's wife, a doctor's husband, a nurse, 
an orderly, or just a guy named Ralph. She. Is. Funny. Check out 
Show me Your Juicy Boobs Please--it may be one of the funniest posts 

I've ever read. Really.

Living in Kellie's World Joe (and Kellie) are so funny and Joe does a great job 
of bringing us into Kellie's world--a hilarious place to be, I must add. I was also lucky 
enough to win my first (and only) blog prize from Joe--though that had no influence on 
me (yes, I can be bought and I do love book stores (it was a GC for B&N. B-a-r-n-e-s 
and N-o-b-l-e. It's a BOOK store. A book is something you read. Before Kindle and i-Pads, 
books were used almost exclusively. There are PAGES...forget it.), but I'd like to think that 
$25 wouldn't be quite enough for me to sell out. Make it thirty and we'll talk!) Check out 
his post Meno-Poise--I swear I don't only love it because I am living it right now...

Daddy Knows Less His post today would be worth looking at simply because 
of his picture of "Peanut" at the pumpkin patch. CLASSIC.

The Underachiever's Guide to being a Domestic Goddess--She is gorgeous AND funny--and she 
made sure she remembered me when I went off the grid. THAT is something! 
This post really had me laughing--you will, too!

My SISTAH from another MISTAH...A Little Lucidity and I could chat for HOURS...and we 
have! She recently celebrated her one year Blogoversary. Hopefully that means she will be back 
to guest post...

7 random things about yourself:

I have a big toe the size of Rhode Island.

I have somehow been blessed with the most amazing friends anyone could ever hope to 
have. really. It is actually a bit bizarre that wherever I go (even virtually on my blog!) 
I meet THE most amazingly nice, helpful, and GIVING people. It ALWAYS happens and 
I really don't deserve it. I DO appreciate it.

I do not like to share my water bottle with ANYONE. EVER. Of course, when people 
are looking and judging and my children are nearing dehydration, I will allow them to 
drink, but that is RARE. In high school (you know...back when the first water bottles 
were "invented," we brought bottles to our field hockey game. My friend did not have 
one and she asked me for a sip. I watched the water go into her mouth and come right 
back down into my Evian. needless to say, I gave her that bottle and was done sharing 
water after that day.

I played field hockey for like fourteen seconds my senior year of high school. I was not good.

I danced for like nine years, yet when I try to "Zumba" everyone runs for cover.

For years I would carry around Styrofoam McDonald's or Chik-fil-A cups full of water. 
Students would tell me that I was hurting the environment. When I told them that I used 
the same cup for a week or two and washed it, I was told, "You are so Ghetto, Miss Corwin..." 

My husband and I think we are on a sitcom. We BOTH expect to hear a laugh reel 
whenever we say something we deem to be funny. We need help.

A lesson in Chapstick

So when I taught I was always blessed enough to teach the most gorgeous and talented students. Sadly, I'm old enough that most of them are in grad school, working professional jobs, getting married, and having babies. Of course some of my students (very few, thank goodness) did the baby thing while I was teaching them, but that is for another day.

One of these beauties posted on facebook the other day and it made me laugh for two reasons. A. Because it was funny and 2. Because I had just posted about Jennifer and although her name is not Jennifer, she is DEFINITELY a natural beauty. Which brings me to her post:


When you tell your makeup-artist friend that you just want to wear Chapstick in your engagement photos, she responds with a saucy email written in the most god-awful fonts (including Comic Sans and Papyrus - yack).

You sully her trade, she'll sully yours right back. ;)

At least she's honest!

I don't know if both all of you will enjoy this as much as I did, but my children were so excited to tell me about the fact that they were able to use REAL voting booths at their school today.

"Who will you vote for, Mommy? Rodney or Obama?"

"Well, first, it's 'RoM-ney,' and second, I need you to know that it isn't polite to ask people what they weigh, how much money they make, or who they will vote for in an election. Of course, I don't mind telling you, but remember that when you are with others..."

Brayden: "Well, I voted for Barrack Obama."

Ryan: "So did I--and he WON!"

Me: "Wow! Brayden, why did you vote for Barrack Obama?"

Brayden: "Well, I just really think that he has done a great job with our country and he deserves another chance to do it again."

Me: "Wow...good explanation...what about you, Ry--"

Ryan: "Oh--I just voted for him because he looks good!"

"