What we will now refer to as "THE WALK OF DEATH!"

Earlier last week Ginger and I were talking about this weekend.  We had plans to go shopping for Rob and Brandon's birthday parties. (Side note we got cool shit for Robs party, and I'm dying to post pictures already).  She had mentioned that she wouldn't be able to go until 10:00 because she had to walk her dog.  Friday night I get the bright idea to tell her I'll go on the walk with her.  She mentions she is going to walk the hill at the park.  I said sure okay I'll just throw Codi in the Jeep stroller and it will be fun.  

Saturday morning Ginger calls me and tells me that shes on her way.  Rob is still sleeping and now I realize I have to take both boys.  So I stick Codi in the Moby and Brandon in the stroller and set off to the park.  

Then I see the hill.  One look at it and I'm already tired.  In fact looking at it felt like a work out.  Ginger asks if I want her to take the stroller since I already have an extra 17 pounds strapped to me.  I'm like, "noooooo I can handle this."  So off we go.  Two and a half feet into the hill my ass starts screaming at me to turn back now.  7 feet into the hill my arms begin to cry and threaten decapitation if I don't turn back.  

Finally we got up the hill and I breathed.  Then I looked up and saw a second big fucking hill.  Ginger, trying to be helpful said that if I wanted we could go to the left which was a smaller hill instead of going up the very. steep. other. hill!  My reply was, "dude, how will I live with myself if I pick the easy route?"  She was like, "Shannon come on you have two kids and at least 50 lbs of extra weight, it is fine to pick the smaller hill."  

Alas, the stubborn side of me came out and after initially heading towards wussy hill I turned around and said, "FUCK IT we are going up the DEATH HILL."  And off we went.  I would be lying if I didn't say that I had to stop a couple times because that shit was hard.  However as soon as I made it to the top of the hill Brandon decided he wanted out of the stroller.  Little shit!  I took Codi out of the Moby and plopped him into the stroller and Brandon happily chased Gingers dog around the trails.  

At this point we ran into this lady who came chasing after us asking Ginger to put her dog on the leash because they had a "reactionary dog."  She then went on to say, "it's not a mean dog, just protective and reactionary."  We put Gingers dog on the leash and then saw this lady running about a half mile back to her husband and dog and realized we had some time so we took the dog back off the leash.  A little while later they catch us and Ginger is leashing her dog again.  The husband comes up to me and starts prattling on about how leashes are laws and we should have our dog on a leash at all times.  As he is doing this his, "nice, only reactionary dog" is muzzled and jumping about growling and foaming at the mouth.  Picture the dog in the movie KUJO only fluffier and scarier.  I get pissed off and say, "maybe a dog like that doesn't belong on a hill like this."  After all there are tons of kids and runners around and it doesn't seem safe.  The guy totally loses his shit and starts screaming at me, at which point the tired, sore, angry part of me comes out and I said, "you know what, the dog is leashed how about you keep walking and just shut up." (I only ONLY say shut up if I'm mad, and the fact that this guy just came up yelling about laws and shit when we were clearly leashing the dog and moving really really made me angry."  So the he retorts, "give me your name I'm reporting you to the cops."  To which I just laugh and said, "honey I have kids not dogs I'm not doing shit wrong so get the fuck out of my face!"  So he moves on to Ginger who is standing 5 feet up the side of the hill off the trail to make room for these people and their dog with her dog leashed and he demands her name and address to report her.  Ginger was like yeah not happing buddy.  To which he starts hollering at me again and I respond with a very mature LALALALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU!  I start waving him away with my hand and declare that I am done with this, I don't have anything more to say.  Their dog is still going ape shit and trying to tear Ginger apart and I finally just say, "thats one really nice dog you have there, be one your way now."  I was done.  They then start yelling at another runner whose dog is off the leash.  She's like I have a virtual leash IT'S CALLED MY VOICE!  She was pissed.  Here are two people with two great dogs, on DOG WALKING TRAIL and these people come along with their KUJO scary mother fucker dog and expect us to just bow down to them.  We spent the rest of the walk with Gingers dog on a stupid leash lamenting about how annoying it is that people like that take a dog for a walk on a mountain meant for other dogs.  To me it seems that if their dog is always that awful they would walk him somewhere with out other dogs around, like, I dunno THEIR OWN BACK YARD!

After all the dog chaos my muscles were starting to relax and I was recovering from death hill when suddenly Brandon decides he is now to tired to walk.  Unfortunately Codi is passed out in the stroller and I'm not moving him.  Brandon tries various methods of riding on the stroller even trying to fit into the basket of the stroller.  Finally he decides he wants to sit on my shoulders.  So!  I now have about 27ish pounds in stroller weight (assuming my big ass stroller only weighs about 10 pounds) and a 30 lb child on my shoulders  and we are approaching the second hill.  Once again I think I am going to die.  

800 miles later Brandon gets excited at the option of the park at the bottom and decides to walk.  Ginger, wanting to make him go faster offers to race him.  The next thing I know they are taking off running, and, not wanting to be left 20 feet behind I have no choice but to start running UP HILL WITH A STROLLER!  

We completed the walk and I decided after that, that I had just completed my exercise quota for the next 17 years!  However, I also decided that if I just walked up that hill pushing a stroller with 50 lbs in it once a day (just up the hill not around) I would probably look like a body builder in less then like ooo 2 weeks.  Seriously Sunday when I woke up my upper and lower arms hurt.  My calves hurt.  My thighs hurt.  My ass hurt and even my abs felt worked out.  I am actually thinking of trying to push the stroller up the BIG MASSIVE FUCK ME I'M GOING TO DIE part of the hill daily just to see what it does to me.  

However the entire walk took us 2 hours and I don't have two hours.  I think if I got a double jogging stroller I would be fine but the whole carrying one kid on my shoulders thing SO NEVER HAPPENING AGAIN!

I guess size really does matter

I've been taking a break from my diet this past month. Basically for the month of July I kind of just took some time to myself. And by that I mean I was hiding in a corner with some cheesecake and a fork. Oh, who am I kidding, I didn't even need the fork.

Even though I spent the better part of a month eating my way across town via pasta and desert I still basically maintained my weight. This week however I'm losing again, and all this losing weight is reminding me of one of my least favorite weight loss side effects.

NOTHING FITS

I know your like wow, I can't believe shes complaining about that. But seriously, when your walking through the store and your pants are falling down because they are too big and your underwear have ridden all the way up to your shoulders because even they are too big, well it gets a little annoying.

I only wish I had taken a picture. Yesterday I'm walking through Whole Foods. I have these really cute brand new capris on. As I'm walking I'm laughing because it would appear I don't know my size anymore. So even though I just bought these and I tried them on they were way to big and now I look like a jack ass hiking my pants back up every 14 steps.

However, about 6 minutes into the shopping trip I realize I've got a bigger problem. I'm wearing these really cute lacy HOT PINK boy shorts. Maybe if I wore thongs this wouldn't be a problem (I tried that this weekend and lets just say the 49859er times I pulled my thong out of my asscrack in a public place makes thongs not worth it). So I'm walking through the store pulling up my pants when I notice an extra little fabric there. It seems my undies are about a size and a half too big now. So instead of just falling down and bearing my ass like the pants they decided to just ride up OVER THE WAIST BAND OF MY PANTS.

Visualize a lacy pink muffin top, only there was no fat in this muffin top, nope, just HOT PINK LACY UNDIES. I spent the rest of the shopping trip walking around simultaneously trying to pull up my pants and shove down my undies. My favorite part of the whole trip was when I had an itch just above my belly button so I kind of lifted my shirt and itched allowing the whole store to see my ass crack though my jacked up lacy panties.

Actually my favorite part was when some random guy walked by me, looked at me checking my grocery list on my phone then smiled and shouted IPHONE YEAH! And then just walked off. Thats exactly how I feel about my phone, like I should cheer every time I see it!

The night continued on with me waking up at 2am to pull the fucking underwear off and fumble around in the dark to pull out my smallest tightest undies because the other ones were so big they were sliding off in my sleep.

This problem with wrong size clothes has been a reoccurring theme in my life lately. Like yesterday when I woke up totally stoked to wear my new dress to work. Then I put it on and realized that NO, I am not in fact a large anymore. Shit. I just got used to being a large from being an extra large and now I'm expected to get used to being a medium. This is a lot for my brain. Or how all of my bras right now sink in on themselves because they are too big. So I went and bought a new bra in a 38 C only to find out a 38 is too big and I'm now closer to a 36D. Yeah, the C cup wasn't happening, these girls will never be a C cup.

Other things that you wouldn't think of. My sunglasses don't fit anymore because they are too stretched out. I guess my head was fat like Barry Bonds before (don't yell I love me some Bonds but damn his head got fat!). This also means none of my cute head bands fit. My hates are all stretched and so on. You know, I always knew my cheeks and neck were getting fat, and I saw the three chins, I guess I just never realized my whole head was fat.

I've had to tighten my bracelets. My wedding ring hardly stays on anymore. In fact it really only fits if I stick it on the bigger finger right next to it. Then I look at that bigger finger and think damn my fingers were fat.

I'm not used to my new size. I am for sure not used to the shopping part. I bought pants in a 13 Juniors. They seemed to fit in the dressing room, but now they don't. I can't imaging that I could be an 11 in the juniors section. I tried on some 10s in a different brand in the juniors and they fit too. I stood there in the dressing room thinking, "something has to be wrong here, I haven't been a ten in like 800 years."

I wish I could get used to this though. It would save me a lot of time in the fucking dressing room not having to go exchange for smaller sizes. I have two final goals. Buy a pair of Seven Jeans, and buy a pair of Lucky Lil Maggie Jeans.

I've been pretty strict on my diet lately and I plan to stick to it. I have two great motivators. One, my mother in law will be in town in one week for Brandons birthday. You gotta look good for the mother in law. But two on August 30th I am throwing one of the biggest 30th birthday bashes for my husband EVER. The thing is, the theme is WIFE BEATER. Everyone has to wear wife beaters. All my skinny little girl friends are already planning to rip theirs and tie them up with skanky red bras and what not and I'm thinking fuck I wanna look good in my wife beater too. Soooo mama is back to strict so I can rock my Lucky jeans, wife beater and a causally sexy HOT PINK BRA!

On that note, I can't wait until his birthday is here. I've got so many goddamn secret things planned and I'm just busting at the seams. I can't wait to finally be able to talk about all the shit I have in store for him. If you know me, you know I don't do secrets and surprises well so it is just about killing me not to just unload every little detail on ya'll. Just ask my good friend Stephanie how well I do when it comes to HUGE GIANT GREAT NEWS SECRETS! But seriously, it's going to be good!

Okay I'm out. Gotta go put on my dress that fits after I had to waste the gas to exchange the fucker.

Now with photos

I posted a full photo update on the mold. And the new floor damage. And. THE MOLD!
It never fucking ends!

THE MOLD ISSUE

Tomorrow morning (around 10am) I will be posting new pictures of the house. They ripped out the master bathroom floor and found MOLD. LOTS. OF. BLACK. MOLD. Stay tuned.

Hungry

We were at the store. He told me he was hungry. This is what he picked.

Updates

I have updated the Clusterfuck house website the link can be found above

Where have you been?

In a nut shell I've been here, guzzling Robitussin straight from the bottle. I'm hardcore fool! I've been six since three years ago, I mean like a week ago but fuck it feels like forever. You know, I think there should be a rule that moms can't get sick! Because moms don't ever get to stop. Lets say I take the day off work for being sick, fine, but I'm still being a mom to Codi right? It's not fair. Moms should only be able to get sick when their kids are old enough to both go to school so if she takes a day off she can just sleep and eat ice cream all day and not change poopy diapers and what not.

On another note. I didn't get any sort of sleep Sunday night because I was consumed with a wet spot in my bed. It was up near my shoulder so it wasn't pee, it wasn't baby pee, it wasn't breast milk because my shirt was dry, it was to low to be drool WHAT IN THE FUCK WAS IT?

Last night I knew what it was. Codi was coughing so hard he puked. On me. And my bed. But. Not on himself. I was so fucking tired I threw a blanket over it and called it good. This morning, I'm thinking maybe I should go do something about that mess.

I went out for my cousins birthday. I wore a dress. And mascara. And jewelry. And now I think I need to sit down and breath because I just had heart palpitations thinking of the abnormality of it all. We went to dinner at Dolce. It was mediocre. The highlight of the night was the Parmesan potatoes. They were a layer of potatoes, topped with a great pesto, the topped with a Parmesan crispy thing. Layer and repeat. The rest of the meal was, mehh. The tomatoes were not as fresh as I'm used to, the balsamic on the capresé was, old tasting and the Primevera pasta tasted like old rotting mushrooms. You know how mushrooms start to taste fishy when they are too old. I was actually disappointed because the menu had great promise. I would maybe go back, and just eat mashed potatoes all night.

Later that night we went to the club and the guys met us there. Lisa's husband knows I don't drink so when he went to the bar to buy drinks for all the girls he bought me a diet coke. It was actually really nice because most people just forget about me all together and I end up waiting back in line to buy my non alcoholic beverage. Either way, it was really nice that he grabbed me something and I didn't even ask. Us girls were dressed pretty cute. You know, ever since I lost all this wait I have this sick desire to run into just one of my ex boyfriends. Last time they all saw me I was nearing 205 pounds and pretty fucking ugly. Dammit, why can't I bump into just one of them now that I'm thin again? I've lived in this town a long fucking time how do I go to the club and not see a single guy I used to know so I could make him swoon.

I did run into my friend Sharilee. It was actually kind of funny because I only noticed her because I was busy checking her out. My husband and I were talking about how great that girl was dancing and I was all, "psssh forget the dancing look at her ass." Suddenly my husband was like, "uuuuh isn't that your friend?" It was! After seeing her dance I immediately made a vow to go no where near the dance floor that night as to not embarrass myself. When I used to drink I didn't have any rhythm, BUT I THOUGHT I DID. Now that I don't drink I'm hyper aware of my lack of rhythm and my ummm non lack of cottage cheese thighs. So, if you see me at the club I'm probably standing waaaaaay over there, looking like I'm way to cool for the club. In reality though, the club with its tiny skirts and tiny asses, and good dancers is way to cool for Shannon!

Le dress, with mascara, and jewelry, and tan line!

I call it jiggly leg baby

Codi tries to walk from wilddreemer on Vimeo.

Theres a hole in my heart

Come on over to see the newest holes in my new house!

Holding down the fort

I haven't been around much, I know. But damn have we been busy. The house remodel is sucking the life out of us, and I'm not even doing anything. Rob has been working there late meaning I make dinner later, and our schedule is just generally out of wack. I think the hardest part is just holding down the fort by myself. Dishes, and cleaning, and laundry, and kids, and snot, and more snot and oh hey did I tell you about the SNOT? Most of this is stuff I normally do, but I normally do it with an extra pair of hands to hold a kid or two. And honestly the kids probably wouldn't even be a problem if they weren't both sick. Also, if I wasn't sick. And also if there wasn't so much fucking SNOT! Everywhere I turn there is a fucking booger, and half of them are mine.

I have always appreciated my husband but man, these last few weeks with him gone I sure do appreciate him more. But, on the flip side I'm over the moon about him remodeling this house. I always secretly wanted a handy husband and mine was, well, lets just say don't lift the frames in my house or you will find a lot of holes. I always dreamt about that husband who just went in the garage made some noise and came back inside with a fabulous homemade bed or something. This means every time I stop by the house and see him cutting, pounding, hammering, or air nail gunning something I get really excited and visions of headboards go dancing through my head!

I've spent a lot of time looking at my kids and noticing differences. Then I realize that there is so much about Brandon as a baby that I already can't remember. I'm glad I have a few videos of him or I think I would probably forget it all. I hate that memories become fuzzy, and I find myself wondering if that memory was really of Brandon, or Codi, or some imaginary baby I've created in my head.

My sun burn has turned into a nice shade of leather with spots of peeling skin making it look like I have leprosy or some shit. It's all over my chest and arms which are the only two places I can't cover up in this heat. I'm really sexy right now, what with the spotting, and frazzled crazy eyed look on my face and did I mention the SNOT!

I'm trying to convince my son to eat his waffles right now. But when I pulled out the box of mini waffles he saw the picture on the front of all the different things you can do with them. One of them had "cream" (aka whipped cream) and strawberries. He then got pissed off at me because we didn't have any cream. He then told me that he wasn't eating his waffles until we went to the store and bought some cream. I tried explaining that the store was all out of cream which turned into him crossing his arms and stomping off exclaiming loudly about NO THE STORE NOT OUT OF CREAM MOM I WANT TO GO TO THE STORE NOW.

Well shit! Did I tell you guys that I had a raging hormonal 15 year old child trapped in an almost 3 year old childs body? His birthday is coming up and all the SNOT has really hindered going party shopping. I need to buy plates and decor and order his cake from the fancy cake lady here. We are going with a dinosaur theme. Since Brandon's favorite part of cake is frosting (good frosting not grocery store shit) I am having them make him a giant volcano on his cake that is ONLY FROSTING. That will be his piece. Then we will have dinosaurs and rocks and who knows what else they will put on it. My aunt is having a party lady come who makes balloon dinosaurs, and plays games and goody bags and can I tell you that all I'm worried about right now is whether or not any of his preschool friends will RSVP and if so how strange will it be for that to be the first time I meet these kids parents. I found myself putting a lot of effort into his little invites because the sick part of me really wanted to impress the other parents and kinda be like, "my kids invites are better then yours." I'm easily the youngest mom at his pre-school and because of that I feel like I have to bring my "A" game so I don't get trampled by the BMW driving, slack wearing, hair blown out, fancy purse, caked on make up moms there. Every morning they all show up so perfectly put together and I roll in, in my denim shorts and flip flops and I've decided they must all think I'm the nanny because surely no actual mother would go out of the house in flip flops and DENIM!!!!!!

I have to go now. I have to argue with my child about brushing teeth. Every morning I have to fight with him and bribe him to brush his fucking teeth. Every day we are late over teeth. I wish he would just understand that brushing his teeth means that later in life lots of little girlys will want to kiss him!

To add to my frustration, it's hot, and my boobs are big which = boob sweat. I think I should invent a boob deodorant or something, cuz this whole wearing a cute shirt with no bra thing, while it's fun, it is so not worth the boob sweat people!