The Blog of Bex

OMG...has it REALLY been over a year and a half since I wrote anything here?! I just got an email from a cousin who mentioned this blog and at first I didn't even know what the hell she was talking about.Guess I've been busy with the family and work. Not to mention all of that critical facebooking that I do. We had two massive roadtrips this summer, which made me think about playing Bingo for the first time in my adult life. My personal favorite box, "Car smells like a mix of feet, farts and French fries." I've never read a more apt description. So...how was YOUR summer?? 

Day 0: I heard it might snow!! I feverishly tell my kids, who whoop for joy. I immediately go to Costco, Publix and the wine shop. Not even in that order. That night, I'm so excited I have trouble sleeping. Day 1: Morning: Wake up to a winter wonderland. School is canceled. Yay!! Throw on two pairs of pants, a sweater and my rain boots. Freeze my ass off but don't care because we are having so much fun! Afternoon: First fight breaks out among the kids over mitten ownership. Have to google medical information on how best to treat chapped cheeks. Can barely feel my feet, due to mild frostbite from running around in plastic shoes that have zero insulation. Night: Knock back my evening cocktail like my life depended upon it. Rinse and repeat. Day 2: Unbelievably, the girls who normally have to be pried out of bed with a crowbar in order to make it to school in time have woken up at 5:30 in the morning and are downstairs fighting over who gets the last of the Special K. Th

My two oldest kids are in elementary school, which - in the fine state of Georgia - started last week. My middle kid, Thing Two, was a bit dismayed early on when she was given homework by her teacher. It consisted of a bag and a note stapled to it that said: What's Your Bag?? Attached to this letter is a lunch bag. Please fill the bag with three to five items or pictures that tell about you. Bring the bag back to share during the first week of school. Here are some ideas: something in your favorite color the wrapper from your favorite snack the best book you have ever read something you collect something that tells about your hobbies a picture of your family I asked her if she wanted any help and she said, "Nope! I've got it covered, Mommy...I know exactly what to do!!" And then I thought nothing else about it. After all, sticking 3-5 things that say something about you in a brown paper bag is a piece of cake, right? Today I noticed that she had brought it home with a

I was in the car today with my three kids, ages 3, 8 and 10. The three year old announced that his "penis hurts...and it's getting bigger!" He wanted me to help it. "No-can-do, Buddy...that's illegal, even in Georgia. Just give it time, leave it alone and it will go down on its own." About 10 minutes later one of my daughters exclaimed, "Oh NOOO!!!" Naturally interested, I asked what was wrong. She said, "I lost a fart!" When I asked her what the hell she meant by that, she said that she "...pooted, but it turned into a bubble and went up the front and didn't come back out." So if any of y'all want to know why I have a cocktail every night at five SHARP, now you know.

Today is 9/9/9. And all I can think about are flame-retardant pajamas. What the hell is up with this?! I realize that some poor little kids must have been in a house fire where their pj's went up in flames. That's horrible (and totally not funny so I'm gonna quit talking about it right...NOW.). But do children really have to, until the end of time, sleep in weird, sweaty fabrics that boast "Flame Retardant!" on their labels??! And what, exactly, does "flame retardant" mean? I realize that it probably won't go off like a roman candle if exposed to a spark, but what happens if fire gets on it? Does it melt?? That probably wouldn't feel good, either, Folks. My 8 year old has begun sleeping in her daddy's t-shirts because they are just regular old cotton. That's all kids want - some normal cotton jammy's that don't make them sweat so much that they have recurring dreams that they're stuck under a waterfall that feels like damp bur

I have a strange affinity for Reggaeton music, which has me, at times, listening to Hispanic radio stations. This morning was no exception. I don't speak Spanish so I have no idea what the hell the announcers are saying...but I imagine that the DJ's are dressed up like clowns like on the Spanish TV. The guys are almost always fat and love to make wild and sometimes suggestive facial gestures. The women either are beautiful and curvy or look like a prison warden with makeup. Anyhoo, this morning they were playing a cool song and then when it ended, the crazy (Muy LOCO!!!) announcers took over. It sounded something like this: Labbadda labbadda....LabbaaaaaDAAA!!! [cue the canned laughter] Blah blah blah....Michael Jackson .... blah blah blah...labbadda....... ....esta...Wacko Yacko.... I finally figure out that I was listening to the "zany" morning crew discuss the Michael Jackson funeral coverage. So much for my self-imposed moratorium on the subject today. Does anybod