پاکستان میں Mostbet com ویب سائٹ ملاحظہ کریں، اور آپ یقینی طور پر کھیلوں پر شرط لگانے یا آن لائن کیسینو میں کھیلنے کے لیے یہاں واپس آنا چاہیں گے۔ کھیلوں کے شائقین کو ایونٹس کے ایک بڑے انتخاب، مختلف پروموشنز اور بونسز، مفت بیٹس، مفت گھماؤ اور زیادہ مشکلات تک رسائی حاصل ہے۔ اور کھیل کو مزید آسان بنانے کے لیے، ہم نے ایک موبائل ایپلیکیشن تیار کی ہے جسے آپ آسانی سے اپنے فون پر انسٹال کر سکتے ہیں۔

The Weekend in Crappy Pics – Easter 2014

My 10 year old was on Spring Break last week so, as you might expect, from Monday to Wednesday he pretty much sat around unsupervised, playing video games. Then, on Wednesday night, it occurred to me that his teacher might ask him what he did while on vacation. I figured I’d better pack some excitement into his last two days. *This method has the effect of looking like an awesome parent while putting in only about 20% of the recommended effort.

wcp248

 

So, on Thursday, I took Collin, his friends, & Ana to one of those trampoline places.

I’ll tell you what, for a relatively smart woman who still suffers the consequences of carrying a 10 lb 4oz baby, that was THEEE stupidest play-date I’ve ever arranged!

wcp236 trampoline

Luckily, because I was wearing black pants, my bladder humiliation was kept relatively in check. Plus I made friends with Ms. Terri, the bathroom attendant. Her birthday’s in May, we’re going out for drinks.

On Friday, our family went to The Baltimore National Aquarium…along with 30 billion other families who had the nerve to visit on the same day as us.

We learned lots of interesting facts. This one was on the back of the bathroom stall:

wcp239Imagine how much fatter I’d be if I had a spiral-shaped lower intestine. I should include that in our dinner prayers, “Thank you, Lord, for our daily bread…and my cylindrical-shaped intestines”

The kids agreed on their favorite sea creature:

wcp238“What does he eat, mom?” I’m guessing hot wings and Pabst Blue Ribbon.

and Ana successfully exited through the same rotating door that trapped her last year.

wcp240 ana doorNo spectacle today!

On Saturday, we attended an Easter egg hunt at our gym.

wcp242

But we were so busy chit-chatting that we neglected to strategize with our child before game time. As a result:

wcp243And the yo-yo broke before we made it back to the car.

Saturday night, we dyed Easter eggs.

wcp244

Sunday was Easter and Ana’s 5th birthday!

wcp247I handed her a kid fork to eat her cake, and she handed it back to me saying, “I need a big fork, I’m five now!” Sounds a lot like how I expect my next birthday to go…”I need a BIG shot of tequila, I’m 42 now!”

But before our company came, I was leaving the grocery store when I received an urgent phone call from Brian:

Brian: I need your help! Where are you? What can I clean the hardwood floor with?

Me: I’ll be home in a few minutes. Just use soap & water.

Honestly guys, I didn’t have to ask, somehow I just knew. I even prepped the kids.

Me: Kids, when we get home, I want you to pause at the laundry room door, check to see where dad spilled my chicken marinade, and walk carefully around it. Now, it’s very important that you remain quiet, move quickly, and avoid all eye contact as he’ll be on the offense and looking for someone to blame. Do you understand me?

When we arrived home:

Marinade smell – CHECK

“If you were home earlier, I wouldn’t have had to pull the chicken out.” passing blame – CHECK

…but the one thing I didn’t expect…

“Buddy needs a bath. The bag poured on his head.”

As if missing a leg wasn’t bad enough, it’s three baths later and he still smells like Worcestershire Sauce. Neighborhood dogs want to eat him.

wcp246 buddy

How was your weekend?

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Free Advice Friday! Are your kids spoiled?

Dear Kim,

I feel like I spoil my kids (ages 14 & 16) too much, they’re always “What about me, me, me?!” They think everything we do should contribute to their happiness, and if it doesn’t then it’s not worth doing. How can I turn this boat around and get them thinking about other people’s needs?

Thank you!

Selfless Sally

 

 

Dear Sally,

That sucks.

Sally, what you need to do is to get your family into some type of community volunteer activity. Oh sure, they’ll kick and scream at first but the trick is to keep trying different programs until they find the volunteer position that really speaks to them.

Having tried several hundred organizations myself, here’s a heads up on a few: the SPCA will want you to change litter boxes and clean up hairballs, Hospice meetings are usually held on Friday afternoons putting a damper on Happy Hour, and the Big Sister/Big Brother program will most likely involve Saturday mornings and not being hung over. Oh, and none of them pay, so going in with a well rehearsed salary negotiation speech isn’t necessary. That was embarrassing.

After spending months looking for something that was rewarding, yet requiring little effort on my part, I decided to create my own volunteer organization, NewsPooper Tails. I reunite lost pets with their owners merely by reading the lost & found section of various local newspapers. For example, if I see person A lost a yellow lab in the Blake Park area, and person B found a yellow lab in the Blake Park area, BINGO! I make the call to both! I’m like a match maker for the common-sense challenged.

Of course, this type of work does have its risks. I remember this one time, I saw an ad for a missing black dachshund and another for a found black dachshund. I thought to myself, “Candy Ass (positive self-talk), how many black weiner dogs are actually roaming the streets? This must be a match!”

So I called the owner and she was so estatic! She said that the dachshund had been sitting in front of her house when her neighbors saw her ex-boyfriend come by and take it. “Why would he do that?” I asked. “Who knows. But I’m just so worried. The last time this happened, he banged it in the rear.”

“What? That’s horrible!” I screamed “I’ll be right over!”

So I picked up the dog from the lady who found it and headed over to the owner’s home. The moment she opened the door, the dog jumped out of my arms, ran over to an ugly ass recliner, lifted his leg and peed. She glared at me, “What’s up with your dog peeing on my chair?” MY DOG?

Turns out her ex-boyfriend banged the rear of her 1982 black Datsun…not Dachshund. I guess mistakes like that are one reason not to place your ads over the phone.

Sally, rest assure, this good deed has a somewhat happy ending.

Her neighbor’s ended up keeping the dachshund and naming him Rusty (after the condition of the car). They loved him dearly. And would you believe that a year later, Rusty saved their lives by barking when their dried out Christmas tree caught on fire! Granted, it only caught on fire because his doggie diabetes caused him to drink the tree stand water every night. However, the newspapers were kind enough to leave that part out, believing that every dog should have his day.

Sally, I hope I was able to inspire you and your children to seek out altruistic endeavors by giving back to your community. I must go now, it’s cocktail hour and I’m “donating” margaritas to myself and my husband. After all, charity starts at home!

Voluntarily yours,

Kim

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Weekend Update Through Pics: birthing babies from my organic ass.

How was your weekend? I hope it was a great one, filled with laughs, love, wine, wine, and wine. Sorry, I’ve been detoxing from crap for the last week, which means no alcohol. So instead of drinking, I’m dropping old wine corks in my tea like they’re sugar cubes.

Essence of Wine Tea – “When you don’t have time to lose your mind, but your ass is so huge, you’re laying off the booze”

How did my weekend begin? Glad you asked. Do you remember the time that I accidentally left Ana in the gym daycare and went home to eat eggs? (If not, you can read that story here– it’ll make you feel like a better parent. ) It was kinda like that.

 

Friday

Me at the playground with other moms:

 

Mom 1: Is Brian home today?

Me: yup, why?

Mom 1: I was just wondering who was getting Collin off the bus.

Me: Oh, that’s right, today’s a half day. I totally forgot. Thank goodness Brian works from home!

Mom 2: So I was telling my friend the other day…

(At this point, I get this bad feeling. Hmm, what is it I’m forgetting?)

Me: OH SHIIIITTTT! Brian went to his friend’s for March Madness!!!

 

I look at the clock and it’s 1:03pm, the bus drops him off at 12:56pm. Holy Shit!

I shove all of our stuff under my left arm, and with perfect timing, Ana shoots out of the curly slide. I throw her under my right arm and we take off running, like this…

Luckily my neighbor was home and rescued him from wandering around the driveway. Thank you, Tiffany!

 

Saturday

this happened…

So Collin and I went shopping for a new couch while Brian and Ana went to the moon-bounce place. Hey- that was Collin’s choice.

While shopping, I get this text from Brian…

Nice, real nice.

 

Sunday

The whole family went bowling, for the first time ever. Surprisingly, other than pulling a muscle in my ass & back, it was a success!

 

I asked Ana if she liked bowling and she said “No…I love it!”

 

After bowling, Brian picked up a pizza and made me hold it on my lap all the way home. Way to be supportive of my detox.

smells…so…good

I don’t think he wants me birthing the baby in my ass.

So, what did you do this weekend? If it was “have chocolate martinis”, keep that shit to yourself.

 

Friday at the Vet’s

I know, I know, I usually mention my weekend happenings on Mondays, but I got a little side tracked with my fuzzy feeling, armless, dog story. It was a good one, wasn’t it? You can read it again here.

If you follow me on twitter you may be familiar with this story. And if you don’t follow me on twitter, umm…maybe you should start. My handle is @mothakim – 10-4 little buddy.

Friday

I had to take Buddy, our 3-legged foster dog, to the vets.

Question: Is the fact that he has 3 legs relevant to the story?

Answer: No. But I like saying it – “Buddy, our 3 legged foster dog”

Anyway, the earliest appointment I could get was at 2:15 pm, which meant Ana had to come with me. And wherever Ana goes, a blog post magically writes itself.

We arrived at the vets a few minutes early, so I was a little surprised when they took us into the tiny examination room right away. I can only assume they recognized Ana from the ‘water cooler incident’ and wanted to contain little Miss Liability.

dun dum dun dum dun dun dun dun

I swear we waited in that room for over a half hour while vet techs came in and out, reminding us that the doctor would be in soon. Meanwhile Ana was in full-on bitch mode. “I’m thirsty” “I’m hungry” “I have to go pee pee”. The “pee pee” threat is the one that made me nervous.

I really didn’t want to leave the examination room. I had that deli counter feeling- you know the one, they’d call my number “29…29…29…” but I wouldn’t hear it because I’m making a mad dash to grab my Tampax Tampons (I swear they should sponsor me). Next thing I know the deli guy has moved on to customer 30 and I’m back at that stupid red dispenser pulling number 92.

So I say to Ana, “Can you hold it?”

Her response?

“Uck, ok, but then I have to wash my hands” and she starts pulling her pants down…(???)

Oh. my. god. she’s going to pee in her hands…to literally hold it!

She’s not playing around. So now I have no choice but to abandon the examination room in search of the restroom.

I find the bathroom. It’s one of those overly large single toilet rooms, the kind that can accommodate a wheelchair, or a mariachi band if you want to have company while you shit. So the three of us (oh yeah, Buddy our 3-legged foster dog) head in. I get Ana on the toilet, I’m watching her balance on the edge of this toilet, and I hear a familiar tinkling sound…only it’s not coming from her.

I look over my shoulder and Buddy is urinating on the trashcan! His leg is hitched high over his head, and I gasp as I watch him tip over in mid stream (because he has 3 legs), urine going everywhere. And for a moment, I’m not sure if I’m suppose to be angry or not. I mean, it is a bathroom, Ana is peeing, who knows, maybe Buddy is super smart and was holding it for the bathroom. And if that’s the case, can I really yell at him? I clean it up, think about telling the receptionist, then decide to spare Buddy from the embarrassment of his faux paw (get it? faux paw!).

We head back into the room and the doctor finally comes in. She kicks Buddy’s tires, gives me a laundry list of recommended improvements (including teeth cleaning for $1000) and says “So you’re hoping to find someone to adopt a 6 year old, 3 legged dog? Good luck with that.”

Buddy and I look at each other, and I give him a mental high five for peeing on her floor.

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