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!

Dear big mother fucker spider in my garage

Next time don't run so fucking fast so my husband can catch you. I'm tired of being terrified to go in my garage!

I can finally spill the beans

A little over a year ago I encouraged a friend of mine to send a text message. It turned into something neither of us expected. I never thought I would see something so wonderful blossom from one simple text. Now I see two people who are so perfect for each other. (Seriously she doesn't even mind his hunting, and he doesn't mind that she hates to hear no)

Congrats Steph & Eli

Head over and tell her congrats...and also, start piling on the wedding advice people, I haven't done this shit in a while, whats new and hip in the wedding world.