A few things in summation

1.  Yesterday my washer burned up.  It is practically BRAND NEW!  This makes me angry because I really like having a washing machine, and I would hate to think that it went on the fritz because it felt overwhelmed and taken advantage of.  Washing machine- I love you.  Come back to me- please!

2.  Do you know how hard it is to NOT have a washing machine when you a two year that is potty training (read: pee and/or poop ALL THE TIME) and a pre-teen that constantly gets bloody noses (read: roughly 5 minutes after the washer died, allllllll over his pillow that I now CANNOT WASH!).

3.  Tomas had an asthma attack yesterday at school.  Any parent knows how much these phone calls SUCK, no matter how calm, cool, and in control you may appear.  Then, to further exasperate the situation I needed to take my laundry to the MIL's to rewash and then dry after the washer fiasco.  So I took my son right back to the scene of the asthma crime, with her beloved darling Chow Chow Emma Baby, whom we love, but has now been sentenced to the cold, hard  outside world.

4.  Yesterday I freakishly cut the bottom of my foot open on a yucky old furniture nail from our (super awesome and RAD) vintage Gold ottoman.  Almost two hours later on hold with the after hours nurse, I need to miraculously find time today to get a shot in my (ever increasing) ass.

5.  I am missing Tom's walk through the American Revolution performance today at school and I am sad that Cory is not going and no one will be there to clap for him when he is done.  I feel like a bad parent today.

6.  I am so unbelievably overwhelmed with school right now that I spend more time kicking myself in the ass and mentally berating myself than I do homework, because I can't even function properly at the moment.  Read- I am an idiot.

7.  I just want someone, ANYONE, to please commit to and FINISH the illustration for my book.  I am ready to be done with it!

8.  I am tired- and Oliver keeps missing the memo that mommy is pregnant, and tired, tired, tired, and it is NOT productive to keep waking her up every two hours EVERY GOD DAMN night.

Thats all I got for now.  I don't think that I should keep going as crying like a baby at school would probably be unprofessional, seeing as how I need to be in front of my class in an hour!

UGH!

Oh wait!  This one is good- over the weekend Cory was at an art show and up on display was our good friends sketch book.  His name is Lindsey Carmichael and he is an amazing artist.  His sketchbook is on roses, and one of the tattoos he has done for me is on display in the exhibit.I am up on display!  Pretty sweet!

xoxo,

J.Danger

Penis or Vagina?

PENIS.

Alas my friends, I am and shall continue to be, the only female in the house.

The Danger Family will be gladly welcoming a THIRD boy, this august!

Here is a list of the reasons why having a THIRD boy in the house will surely rock-

1. I can just give up cleaning my house from here on out. I mean come on, why even bother anymore?

2.  I get to spit and scratch my crotch whenever I want from now on, because if I don't I will merely be the odd man out.

3.  We will not have to buy anything for this little guy, because somehow I knew this was coming and saved EVERYTHING.  So really, we are doing ourselves a favor.

4.  I WILL NEVER HAVE TO PAY FOR A WEDDING.

5.  Period talk?  Nope.  Not gonna happen.

6.  In fact, no sex talk at all.  Helllllllllo Husband.  Although, I will admit- this frightens me a little.

7.  It is ok for boys to look like ragamuffins- they're boys!  So I don't have to worry about making them look cute, color coordinated, and well put together.

8.  I won't have to run nearly as fast when I hear screaming or "BLOOD" or "Moms coming!  RUN" because I will already know exactly what is going on.  They're boys.

9.  It will be considered acceptable when there are lizards, squirrels, dirt, sand, boogers, rusty trucks, and stray army men body parts loosely strewn around the house.

10.  We get to have another Bris, which is cool because everyone at Temple will cook for us. (I knew there was a reason we joined!)

So there ya have it.  Another boy.  And we are stoked!

xoxo,

(carrying yet another penis) J. Danger

WW: 18 weeks

I know, I know- WORDLESS Wednesday.  But whatever!

Big news today guys!  Bigger than me even.  Check back in later.

xoxo,

J.danger

So I know I said I wasn't that kind of girl, but...

I totally am.

I did it.

And I don't feel nearly as dirty as I thought I would.

In fact, I kinda like it.

Calm down mom (hello? 3 kids ma!)

I joined Facebook (it's a social network mom.  Yes, a social network.  No- not like Bunco mom).

Now, to be honest, I was on Facebook for awhile a year or two ago.  But it was still pretty new, I couldn't figure it out, I was sick of my inbox being flooded with stupid requests, I was done with it.

So I closed the account, stuck with the Space, and forgot all about it.

Until everyone else started doin it.

So I caved, and I joined the masses.

So far, so good.  We will see.  I just need to turn off my email notifiers because oh my word I have never gotten as much email as I do now.  Geesh!  

So there ya have it.

I did it.  And I liked it.

xoxo,

J.Danger

P.s.- Carl's Jr. YOU SUCK and I am peeved at you.  But still too peeved to talk about it RATIONALLY so I am waiting to responsibly blog about it.  Quite unlike your mega-irresponsible ad campaign right now!

An apology-

I recently joined the Google reader bandwagon.  I know, I know...go easy on me.  I still don't even have a Facebook page.

Up until I set up "The Reader" I would just follow the blogs on my page.  Well, then I started filling up "The Reader" with other blogs, AND still kept up to date with the blogs on my blogroll.

Well, somewhere in the muck and mire, I have abandoned my blogroll dearies and have gotten into the habit of just reading from "The Reader".

Today, as I was cleaning up some extras on my blog- I am moving to WordPress; hence maintenance- I totally discovered what a jerk of a blog friend I have been these past few months.

Stone me.

Tar and feather me.

Swirlie me.

Do all three if you want.

But I have found you again, dear long lost loves, and have added you to "The Reader" that now dictates my online hours.

I apologize.  I am sorry.

But fear not- I found you again.

P.S. I can see you cringing.....

xoxo.

J.Danger

WW: To be fair after yesterday's post

Happy St. Patricks Day!

Happy St. Patricks Day!

My family is Irish. Full blown (well, except for the Ashkenazi Jew I married, and the little half Jewish babies we made/are making!) And for us, St. Patricks day is a big deal.

Did you know that the whole snake ridding thing is just a myth?

St. Patrick is the patron Saint of Ireland. When he was 16 he was taken prisoner by a group of Irish raiders and was held captive for six years. Then, Mr. Smarty Pants Patrick escaped from his captivity and walked 200 miles from County Mayo to the coast, where eventually escaped to Britain.

Pause- homeboy walks for 200 miles as an escaped prisoner and no one can catch him? He was WALKING.

Ok- so. So now St. Patrick is in Britain and he has this dream revelation telling him to return to Ireland as a missionary. He studies for fifteen years (dedication?), becomes ordained as a priest, and returns to Ireland to live with Irish that are already Christians while trying to convert those that are not.

This is where we get the Celtic cross. And how many of you have a Celtic cross tattooed on you somewhere? Do you know where it came from?

Instead of obliterating the Irish culture in his teaching of Christianity to the Irish, St. Patrick tried to incorporate the culture and language into his lessons on Christianity. So, he imposed the symbol of the sun, one that the farmers of Ireland knew well, onto the Christian cross- tada! A Celtic cross.

So there were no snakes, and somewhere along the line in America it became all about green beer and Corned Beef and Cabbage. Which is cool. In Ireland it is celebrated by going to Mass, and is a Holy Obligation Day. Whoooaaaa. They celebrate by cooking up some Mutton
Bacon and Cabbage
Colcannon (one of my favorites)
Soda Bread (a staple here in the Danger home)
or Brown Bread

One of the coolest things about the Irish culture is their myth and lore, transferred for so many years by the oral tradition before they were ever put onto paper. I was read these stories as a kid, and I still read them now- to myself and to my own kids. I can remember my Grandma Catherine (one of like 17 Catherines in my family! No joke) telling them to us all at holidays and Sundays after Mass. She would always speak to us in Gaelic so that we wouldn’t forget the language, and she would tell us over and over again what it was like on her farm “back home”, what the boat trip was like over, how my Grandpa came to get her so he could marry her, all of it. I loved it. I miss it. I try to tell all of these to my kids too, so that they will have the same memories.
Here is a link from the History Channel on St. Patricks Day.

And here is a link for Irish Mythology from Wikipedia.

Lastly, here is a link from Shaw University on Irish Literature, Mythology, Folklore, and Drama.

Even though it is not about conversion anymore, or any religion at all actually, people still celebrate because of the tradition. My family and I still celebrate, so that is what we will be doing tonight.

I hope you and yours enjoy your St. Patricks Day!

Xoxo,
J.Danger

Spring, Spring, Go Away...

Spring is coming soon, which means then summer gets here. I hate summer. I have always hated it. Spring is manageable, but summer? Not so much.

The sun and I? Not friends.
I am a redhead. Naturally. When I was a kid my mom and my grandma would force me to perm my hair a la Shirley Temple.
You can bet I got rave reviews at school.

“Annie! Get Your Gun!”
“Tommorrrrrow, tomorrow, I lovvvve you tomorrrrow, you’re only a day awaaaaayyy!”

I got all of them.

Plus, to make matters worse- there were three of us girls to all twelve gazillion of my male cousins.

So I got even more of it-
“hey meatball!”
“Wassup carrot top?”
Plus, the freckles, the glasses, and I was fat. I mean fat.

It was a win win situation.

So the summer was always rough for me because when you put a pasty skinned freckle faced frizzy haired fatty in a bathing suit- in the sun?

It sucked folks. Sucked.

So I have never enjoyed the summer time, never enjoyed the sun, none of that. Sun bathers? What the hell? You are straight up baking yourself. Gross.

But here’s the catch- the boys love the summer. And now we have a pool, and we live in a beach community.

So basically I am screwed.

Except last year we went to the beach. Once. And it was fun. I packed fried chicken and a bunch of other crappy food, paddled out with our oldest son, let the kids bury me in sand (gross). And it was ok. But this year I will be spending yet another summer pregnant. And gigantic. And sweaty.
So now you get a pasty skinned, freckled face, fat (but now only because I am pregnant- holler!) sweaty pregnant lady, and then you throw in all the tattoos, and I become a beach side freak show.

Maybe I can charge admission? Like the bearded lady!

But that’s ok. The money will help, and besides, my husband likes my freckles. He thinks I’m kinda cute. So that’s all that matters.

I guess….

XOXO,
(The soon to be sun burnt in 0.5) J.Danger

At which point, she freaking loses it.

The other day my husband answered the phone to this-

Them- “Hello is this Cory Danger?"

Cory- “Yes, why?”

Them- “Do you live at 1234 Best Damn Family Ever Lane?”

By now, Cory is not only suspicious but also irritated. When Cory is irritated- look out…

Cory- “What is this referring to?”

Them- “Do you live next door to a Miss So and So at 1235 NOT the Best Damn Person Ever Lane?” She is indeed, not the best damn person EVER at ALL, but that’s ok- I won’t bash her here because it is mean. Right? Right.

Cory- “ INAUDIBLE YELLING with some cursing thrown in” meanwhile I am acting like a damn fool trying to gesture to my darling husband that our children are indeed still in the room and are indeed wearing their (usually far from site whenever I need them!) listening ears.

Long story short- these damn creditors actually called US, at OUR house, to try to convince us to march our self-righteous NOT BEING HOUNDED BY CREDITORS asses next door to let our neighbor know that we have a message for her. From her creditor. About her delinquent and outstanding bill. Are you kidding me?! Do we like her? No, hands down- no. Do we wish her ill will- wellllll…….but still- no way I am going over there to totally humiliate her. Come on.

But it gets worse.

I do not speak to my father. I have not, for years now. He is not well however, so whenever something goes wrong, or he needs something- I am that phone call. I come home the other day to this message-

“Hi this message is for Jessica Danger. I am calling in reference to her father. His case has been elevated to critical and severe and I have been told to notify you. It is imperative that we speak to you immediately, as again his case has been elevated to critical and severe. Please call …….and ask for…..”

At this point, I am near hysterics. I am shaking. I cannot breathe. I want to call my husband at work and just cry, but I am dialing the number before I even realize that I want to call my husband and cry instead.

The woman answers, asks my name, the number they called, my father's name, a gazillion privacy questions. Finally I just yell at her to tell me what the fuck is going on and is my father ok?! At which point she tells me that she is actually calling because my father owes a substantial debt that needs to be paid immediately, yadda yadda, etc…

At which point, I freaking lose it.

I would love to tell you what I told her over that phone, but I can’t because despite the fact that I curse repeatedly on this site and talk about yeast infections, vibrators and vomit, at some point in time my children will (eventually realize just how cool I REALLY AM and) read this blog and I need to remember that right now.

But you can use your imagination.

Then double it.

You would be about right.

Contract Schmontract

We HAD cable, with a cable company that has the BEST NAME EVER, before we came to terms with the fact that we are broke and couldn’t afford it. Plus, they were just total jerks and we were tired of them. So we decided to go another route and see if there are any other services out there that we might be able to somehow miraculously afford without selling the last of our collective kidneys. Cory spent hours on the phone begging and pleading with cable companies to save us from the doom of no Nickelodeon, Nick Jr., or Cartoon Network.

Then, in rays of sunshine, rainbows, and purring kittens came a company that sounds a little like Schmerect Schmeevee. They promised us ALL of these things and a pot of filthy lucky gold, AND they were priced in our dwindling microscopic price range. So we signed up.

We should have known better.

We give them all our information. Contract for 18 months? Ok. $34.95 a month FOR ALL OF THOSE MONTHS? Ok. DVR included? Ok. Only $21 needed now for delivery of the boxes? Ok.
Schmerect Schmeevee comes out, installs the boxes, we sign, we’re good.
Until…we eventually get our bill. To discover that we were NOT charged a mere $21 for delivery, we were instead charged $63 dollars- automatically on my credit card WITHOUT permission. And it is indeed NOT $34.95 a month for 18 months like we were promised- that price only applies AFTER you apply for all of their rebates and only IF you meet the requirements. It takes- of course- approximately 8 weeks for these rebates to be completed, which means we are stuck with the waaaaay higher bill for those 8 weeks.

DVR? No, not so much really because if we want that after all we have to lease a separate DVR box for another $99. Fantastic.

Best part- after staying on the phone with customer service FOREVER we discover that by signing the installation agreement with the man that said all of MAYBE two words to us, we locked ourselves into an 18 month long contract with this company. DESPITE the fact that I SWEAR TO YOU, Cory and I ASKED ALL THESE questions and were deliberately mislead – we are fucked for the next 18 months.
Schmerect Schmevee- YOU SUCK. And the next 18 months are gonna suck for you- trust me.

Two things-

Happy Purim!

Purim is a Jewish holiday that celebrates the saving of the Jews from a pending massacre during the Persian period.  You can read about Purim in the book of Esther- the heroine who saves her people.  Purim is a wildly celebrated holiday- just ask my kids!  Last night they celebrated with my husband and his mother at the Temple; I was in class.  All the kids wore costumes and ran around yelling and twirling noise makers!  There was pizza and cookies, soda and a carnival!  They also got to watch adults make fools of themselves on stage!  Totally awesome.

You can read more about Purim HERE.

Second- Speaking of Esther, did you know that March is National Women's History Month?  I'll bet you didn't!  Every year a theme is chosen to be represented through the month.  This year the theme for National Women's History Month is "Women Taking the Lead to Save our Planet" and helps to highlight women who have taken the lead in environmental issues.

You can read the President's press release about it (and you should!) HERE.

Also, there is a super awesome page about NWHM HERE.

On that note- I am hungry.

Enjoy your day lovelies!

XOXO,

J.Danger

This is my 100th post

100.

I figure that by the time a person gets to be about a hundred, they must have a ton of secrets to spill.

So- in the spirit of turning one hundred today, I am letting you spill your guts ANONYMOUSLY.

Comment away, totally anonymously.  I won't track you down, there are no tricks, and no one will know it is you.

Give it a go.  You know you wanna-

xoxo,

J.Danger

Here's the thing-

Sometimes (most of the time) pregnancy just plain sucks.  It is hard on your body, it makes you think your crazy, and you get fat- ON PURPOSE.

Right now- it sucks.

I cannot even remember the last time I got some decent sleep.  Either my belly is in the way, or my legs hurt, or I have to pee, or lately I just cannot sleep.  I just lie awake, with ice on my baby maker, for hoooooooouuuuuuurs, listening to my damn neighbor's dog whine for Lord knows what.  Then the baby gets up, and I am busy for hours, and we start all over.  But here's the catch-

Just because I don't sleep at night, doesn't mean I can during the day!

I still need to get up because who knew kids need breakfast?  Then the carpool, then the commute, then the hours of Academia, then  the commute back, then karate and tutoring, and preschool, and dinner, and laundry, and dishes and all of the amazing perks of motherhood. 

What the heck man?  Shouldn't the world just stop turning for roughly 8 hours for me?  Please?  Just this one time?  PUHLEAZE?

And be forewarned- do not tell me that it only gets worse from here, because guess what?  I FREAKING KNOW.  And yet I still allowed myself to think that a THIRD was a genius idea.

No one ever listens to me.

Where's the cookies Tomas ( read: ME) made last night?

WW: I Heart New Orleans.

Ba-dunk-a-dunk

Fifteen weeks.

Holy Shit.

xoxo,

J.Danger.