Dear Little Hoodlums,

I was thrilled to be asleep at 10:30 on Friday night- I’m a real party animal these days. Go on, laugh at me for being so lame. When you decided to to wake me from my sleep by playing “Ding Dong Ditch” or “Ring and Run” I laughed the first time. After all, when I was in high school, my house was the victim of this multiple times over the years. And to set the record straight, I may have partaken in this juvenile prank one time or the other (shhhh). When you decided to go to a different door about 15 minutes later – OK – you were pretty tricky. At 11:00 on the third attempt – I was getting quite perturbed. Like a crazy woman, I opened my front door, saw your 2 little male heads in my neighbor’s bushes, yelled at you that this was not funny anymore and people in this house needed their sleep. I went back to bed as I was freaking exhausted – long week. And you are damn lucky Chulo the Super Dog did not come get you as he was barking like a lunatic. I was back asleep and you rang 2 more times – get a life kids – is this really that entertaining?

Now the Toyota Sienna Mommy Van that I wish I could get rid of as it is ohhhh so not cool (but I have to get a wheelchair in and out now, so my next car is on hold), is not in perfect condition. Trust me little hoodlums, I hate my Mommy Van! I’d like to say that I try my hardest to defy my age and look my best and I could not feel less glamorous in this rolling piece of practicality. There are some scratch marks from bikes from the kiddos and a couple of shopping cart scrapes that give it that true Mommy coolness. A couple of weeks ago, someone even put a nice key mark on the driver’s side. Not sure when or where it happened grrrr….. My van often reminds me of this video below too!

So yesterday, I loaded my dad and my kids in my ultra sexiness on wheels to head to lunch. My little garden flag pole was mangled – no biggie – you guys were so tough showing your strength – I bent it back in no time (I may be small but I am strong too). Driving out I stopped chat with a couple of neighbors to see if they had seen you and they pointed to the sexy mobile and I said – ya I know (thinking they were talking about the bike scratches). After stopping at a store with my friend who I also picked up, we were heading back to the car and low and behold, there on the side of the car was carefully scratched in with a key, the words “Fuck, Ass and a lame picture of a penis.” I am so impressed you know these words, seriously and I’m sure your parents would be proud too. As for the penis picture – a 3 year old could have drawn that, so I suggest you not pursue a career in art.

The police came to the house after I returned from lunch. When I was filing my report, he scolded me for not calling when you started ringing the doorbell. Honestly, I said, I think the Mandeville Police have more to do than waste their time with dealing with this nuisance kid stuff. He also said you knocked down a mailbox on the block and no worries, all the houses here will be getting a letter to see if anyone else had any damage. The more stuff we have against you – the better! Just so you know little hoodlums, you damaged 3 panels of a van and now I have to file an insurance claim- that will cost a lot of money. And don’t think I will show mercy on you when you get caught. Last year, 4 little bastards broke into 6 cars in the neighborhood and got caught. I was more than happy to go to court over the GPS stolen out of my mommy van in the driveway! And yes – they paid to replace it.

What you should be most ashamed of, is knowing the psychological damage you are putting me through. Getting in my van is embarrassing enough, and now I have to refer to it as the “F mobile” or the “Assmobile” too.

V/R

Greta, the beeotch who will track you down and teach you a lesson!

Every day with Alzheimer’s and Dad is a new adventure – a non-stop rollercoaster of emotional highs and lows – often in a short period of time. Humor is one of the best ways for my family (and I believe any caregiver in this situation) to deal with this horrible disease that makes a person un-learn and regress. Now before anyone gets all touchy here – I mean no disrespect at all when I laugh at anything regarding Dad. My dad always had an amazing sense of humor and some of that is still lingering when he is having good moments. I know deep down inside, he would be laughing with us too as he always understood the value in humor. Heck, when he used to work in the home office, he would call a network of friends up – not even say hello – tell a joke, laugh and hang up.

Laughter is an instant vacation. ~Milton Berle~

Well…the other morning I was sitting checking my email and drinking my coffee with dad’s bed alarm next to me. All of a sudden I look behind me and there he is – holding the dog’s bone and his glass case and finagling his walker somehow. He asked, “What am I supposed to do with these?” My first thought was – OMG – how the hell did he get that bone off the floor? I swear when I am not looking or when he is still half asleep he has some super-human powers we aren’t privy to seeing! In the day he can barely bend over at all. Next thought – shoot – damn battery in the alarm must have died. Next thought – OMG – this is flippin’ funny! A vision of dad in his PJ’s, on his walker with 2 random items. I had to call hubby up immediately and the scene from The Jerk has had us laughing for 2 days now. We added the dog Chulo to his list of all he needs too:)

Today, it was Dad entertaining the Ochsner waiting room. He was singing, telling everyone how wonderful they were, blowing kisses to the ladies and telling all of them they were beautiful. Dora (1 of dad’s helpers) and I were rolling on the floor laughing. What was even funnier was to see how people reacted. He certainly livened up the place! He told the nurse she was beautiful, sang to the doctor (who had the personality of my left toenail) and greeted and sang to everyone he could today. I’m laughing thinking how funny the scene was in the waiting room. I just laughed the whole way with him with an occasional shhhhh….keep it down. I wiped a couple of tears from dad as I was writing this post as he had a sad moment. Looking forward to the next funny one again!

I write about moods in this previous post.

FEMA Rushes Supplies To New Orleans In Anticipation Of Light Snow

I’ve (@kissmygumbo) been disciplining myself to write “big girl” posts each Monday and this week it is FAIL! Instead of this being some post worthy of publication, you get more of my useless drivel. You see, Monday has become a big traffic day on Kiss My Gumbo, because I launched this Twitter hashtag craze #Militarymon with Carson Daly (ya -the celebrity). How small the world becomes when you can talk to a celebrity over 140 characters from the luxury of your own bathroom home. Dammit – why the hell did I stay out in the sun all day and have that Margarita with dinner tonight and that Abita beer with lunch? Gosh – my readers must think I’m the biggest lush in the world – LOL! Nah – there are no lushes in New Orleans – we enjoy life here (I ran today so that has to cancel those out)! Oh crap – talking about alcohol sidetracked me from my Twitter talk. You see, I’m not sure which has officially killed more of my brain cells…Twitter or alcohol?

I’m 41 and have been drinking alcohol since the ripe old age of 13 (my kids may read this) 21 (when it was legal) – you do the math. I’ve been Twittering for…shoot…over a year now!!! According to Twitter at this very moment, I have given 4,659 updates. This is when I say to myself, “Greta, you need to get yourself a life girl!” I twitter from the boat from the restaurant in the car – oh shoot – I’m addicted!!! Alcohol – can certainly pass on it – no problema….but Twitter…OMG if my Tweetdeck is broken I’m breaking out in sweats. Panic. Is this Twitter thing killing brain cells? I think so – the pile of books I’m reading is now stacked 8 high but I know the business of all 2,608 friends who follow me on Twitter. I even drink with my Twitter friends as I Twittered from a bar just last night. Do I need Twitter Detox? Probably so as this whole thing may just be a “tad” out of control right now. But heck, look at all the time I’ve saved by getting all my news, information and even throwing out questions to my Twitter friends. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, “I wish everyone spoke to me in 140 characters or less!!!”

Will I keep enjoying libations and Twittering…hell ya (as long as I have a couple of brain cells remaining).

Not making fun of dementia or Alzheimer’s. In fact, I’m dealing with dementia with my father (it sucks). Anyhoo, if I were a politician, I would automatically claim to be taking Aricept for memory problems. In fact, I would demand the prescribed it to me in case….well…in case a problem ever arises. If I were a politician in say, Louisiana, problems with my Aricept prescription would be a likely defense. Say for instance…

Freezer dilemma: What freezer? I don’t own a freezer. Oh…that freezer. What money? Oh, you see, sometimes I forget where I put stuff. My prescription of Aricept had run out and I was confused. You see, I was on the way to the bank and got confused and accidently put the money in the freezer instead.

Pebble Beach dilemma: What trip to Pebble Beach? Oh…I go there so much I forgot who I went with and who paid for it. Oh that airplane. Gosh, I forgot to pick up my Aricept on the way to the airport. I can’t even recall who I stayed with while we were there.

Hawaii dilemma: Which trip to Hawaii? You see, I go there so much I often forget completely about the trips and all the pictures we took are the only way I remember. As to where we stay and who paid…fugetaboutit! That trip paid for by an employee, as my fuzzy memory recollects, the line at the pharmacy was too long so I went without my prescription of Aricept.

Now I’m not a lawyer, nor do I play one on my radio show or my blog…but Aricept would be a fabulous defense.

c/p at Louisiana Conservative

Any woman that wants to go into some type of immediate depression – need only to head to try on bathing suits for the season. If you aren’t stressed out about bathing suits – then I hate you (just kidding – good for you). Well, I’ve tried on quite a few this year already and have not bought one of them. The suit should lift and pull and push and flatten and basically be a freaking miracle for us folks who got what we got because it is just there! This one doesn’t pull that up enough and this one has a little of this hanging out in the wrong place and this adorable suit…who the hell is that made for? Catalog suits scare the crap out of me – because let’s face it – that woman posing in it does not have my body and she probably never gave birth to monster child (damn kids ruined my figure – it is all their fault). Now I’m very happy that I’ve slimmed down since last swim season (and not from eating bon bons & watching my stories). I’ve been running and swimming and eating well and I feel great…but….here is the but….I have not had plastic surgery on my body! Why isn’t skin elastic fercryingoutloud and why has gravity and nursing wreaked havoc on my boobs (I love you Vicky’s Secret & your freaking miracle bras – wish I could glue you on permanently)?

Guys, if you know any woman who has to go bathing suit shopping – be sympathetic – and don’t be around her after the shopping excursion (you’ve been warned)! To think I actually had dreams of wearing a 2 piece this season…not going to happen unless it has a vacuum built into it that sucks things in! So if you see a 41 year old woman on the Tchefuncte River in her boat this summer wearing full body Spanx – just wave!

Update: 3/24 Update: I went to Bora Bora Swimwear in Mandeville and they hooked me up with a 2 piece that actually worked miracles! They did not pay me for this ad but maybe they’ll give me a discount next time:)

Picture stolen from my good friend William Teach. This pinup is by Gil Elvgren, with a wee bit of help. Teach added the “Patriotic Puppy.”

Princess Whinalot: Can I have a hamster for my birthday in September?
Me: No
PW: Well then I’ll ask Santa for a hamster?
Me: He’ll have to ask my permission first and I’ll say no.
PW: If I get enough money for Christmas & Hannukah, I am going to buy my own hamster.
Me: I still won’t let you.
PW: Daddy said he might let me get a hamster but I have to talk to you.
Me: No hamster – we have 4 cats and I’m not cleaning any more animal messes.
Hubby: But she’ll only be 8 once in her life – can’t we get her a hamster – please?
Me: No
PW: wahhhhhhhh!
Hubby: Come on honey, she is old enough to take care of it by herself.
Me: You know I’ll end up taking care of it.
Hubby & PW: Please – she has enough money.
Me: Whatever – get the freaking thing. But we are all going to the pet store to consider our options.
Family: Off to Adventure Pets in Mandeville to learn about rodent pets while owning 4 indoor cats.
Pet store owner: You should really consider a rat or maybe even a gerbil.
(PW sticks her hand in to pet hamster and it bites her badly and she is bleeding and crying)
Me: (Cheering & comforting at the same time) Maybe it is not a good idea. Maybe we’ll just stick with cats.
Smart pet store owner: Like I said , gerbils are nicer.
Me: Well they aren’t as cute
PW: I want a gerbil.

Welcome “Princess” the gerbil to the family. Let me tell you how so NOT thrilled I am about this new family member…The first time it starts smelling up the house – I’m sending the cats in to clean the cage!

Whoever introduced science fair projects to children before they enter high school – probably never had children!!! Kind of like those people who gave me dirty looks at Disney World for having my kids on a leash (oh I would never do that to my kid you evil parent – just you wait until you have a runner). Now, to those of you who “get off” on science fair projects (you know who you are – we all know who you are because your kid has a college quality project done) – can you PLEASE come on over to my house to help – NOW? Seriously, like none of us can tell which kids did the projects mostly on their own and those who had their parents staying up for hours to make sure their charts looked like something from a scientific journal. So lets turn on the time machine to little Greta’s school day projects. I honestly can’t remember what I did (though prisms come to mind), but know I never went to the finals but got good grades. What I do recall is that my parents certainly did not offer much help. Sherm (my dad) probably made sure I put the stuff on the poster board neatly and that was about it.

My children’s first elementary school in Texas encouraged participation in the science fair starting right away. OK – exciting to introduce science to young minds and get parents involved. But, when the cafeteria was open to viewing of these projects, puh-leeze (can you say living vicariously through your children?). Then there was the 4th grade project my son did when we lived in Oklahoma (maybe I should calculate life around science fairs). Son #1 insisted on doing something with dry ice that required parental supervision. The project was destined for failure from the beginning, but his teacher approved it and he really wanted to play with the stuff. Besides my supervision, he did this project 100% on his own – he insisted. I sent a note to the teacher that it may not be the prettiest project, but the fact that he did it on his own had to count for something. He got an A, did not move on for judging, but was so proud of himself! Then in 5th grade he did a blindfold jellybean tasting that may have been a successful project if he did not insist on people identifying tutti-fruity banana twist flavor and just stuck to the simple stuff. Again, he did it all on his own, did not move on to the “next level,” got an A and was satisfied with himself. Lucky me, I really escaped son #1′s science fairs without requiring Xanax.

Now along comes son #2, who would just assume pay someone to do his science fair for him. This project has turned into household chaos and I’m pretty sure has upped my need to cover my gray hair (which reminds me I need to color my hair today)!!! He picked some project on growing grass seed or dry seeds in various types of soil that was approved by his teacher. WTF – growing stuff with a Mother who killed a cactus – destined for FAIL. When it came time to buy the stuff, turns out I needed a forklift at Home Depot for each of the soils and NOBODY sells dry seeds in the freaking winter!!! A conversation with his teacher discussing process not product and going through the motions of a project was the most important part, relieved my anxiety (of course he was not concerned at all). I asked the teacher if there was a problem with the project, if we could we change it over Thanksgiving break since it was about process. After all, hubby and I are edumacated and certainly could choose something worthy of a 5th grade Science Fair. Here is where Mom went wrong!!! When son #2 returns to school – I am told that what we did was not science fair material – d’oh! That in order for this project (that had already required several glasses of wine) to meet science fair standards, we would have to do a ton of additional work. The killer with this experiment is that it requires human subjects (me, son #1 and Princess Whinalot), to be measured early in the morning and before bed! Try getting the Princess out of bed in the morning and making her get measured (she will be a coffee adult). The measuring usually ends with some type of punishment for son #2 and the Princess and me needing a sanity check.

So here we are in the final stretch of Christmas vacation and guess what I need to work on this week …Science Fair!!! OMG – I did my thesis and thought I closed the book on schooling – WRONG! Son #1 will be working on his social studies fair project this week and I know he will do it on his own. Please someone – save me from this 5th grade science fair hell in which I live. Gotta go run to the liquor store before we get working on this today!

If you don’t hear from me in a few days it is because I am in a peaceful place with padded walls!!!

Here is where you chime in with comments dear readers….