Sigh…

But it’s sooooooo true, and Blake, you know it!

Rory, in an effort to keep Houdini from escaping yet again (won’t get into that or you might just see an offer for  a free hamster), decided to try and ‘ham-proof’ the cage. 

What?  He’s only three?  Yeah, I know.  but he is his father’s child.

I found rubber bands, paper clips, Kleenex, and a bandana, among other things, strapped, tied, and taped to the cage.  that poor little hamster.   He did his toddler best to jury rig that thing  closed. 

Too bad he doesn’t understand that’s not how she’s been getting out.

To make matters worse, Blake encourages him.  Constantly.  So, he struts around in his tiny camo pants, mini cowboy boots, and baby flannel, swaggering just like his freaking daddy, and grinning at me.  I’m so gonna be in trouble in about two years, once he starts putting real sentences together.  *sigh*   I’m counting the days until I hear him tell his sister, “Whatever, Cookie, but you OWE me…”

Why me?  Why couldn’t he have been *gasp* more like his Mama?  In this case, it’d almost be worth it.  Having Blake is bad enough when he’s on a roll.  But a Mini-Blake too?  Lawd help me.

Please?

But, on the other hand, he DOES have his daddy’s wild curls, his blue blue eyes, and that damn intoxicating smile.  *sigh*  I just can’t win, can I?

~Ali, helpless and resigned

When Shopping Carts Attack

Or, how I got arrested in Toys ‘R’ Us

I swear, no matter how hard I try to be good, the gods are working against me.

Case in point: I manage to get a few minutes away from the children (thank you Grandma Rogan) and make it a point to get some early shopping done. So, I head out to Toys R Us and battle the maniacs. I’m standing in an aisle, looking over some stuffed animals (sorry honey, but they ARE still kids) when my cart slams into my side.

I look up, apology on my lips, thinking I hadn’t pulled my cart in beside me and was blocking the aisle. I HATE when people do that, so if I got slammed for blocking the aisle, okay. But when I look up, I meet the blue eyes of my arch nemesis, a.k.a. The Ex. Yeah, Leslie. In MY Toys R Us. Why the hell couldn’t she have stayed in Tennessee? I mean really, no reason for her to be here after all. She’s the one who foisted her child off on his daddy and never looked back. What the hell kind of trouble could she be stirring up now?

All I know is that I’m not putting up with this crap.

“Oooops,” she falsely apologizes, batting her fake eyelashes at me in a parody of remorse.

“Whatever, Leslie, now go away.” I turned my back and reached for a large stuffed moose before I smacked the crap out of her anyway. Forgive and forget, I always had to remind myself. Besides, not only did I have her man, I had her son too. When I was slammed in the hip a second time by my errant cart, I lost it. “What the fuck are you doing?” I bellowed, much to the astonished horror of a mother or two on the adjacent aisle.

She batted her plastic eyelashes at me again. “Don’t look at me, the cart did it.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, “all on its little lonesome too, I’m sure.”

Leslie grinned at me in a saccharine sweet sort of way and nudged her cart against my leg one more time. I dropped the moose into my cart and reached for the closest item. A life-sized stuffed baseball bat and swung, smacking her in the head. Being almost a foot taller than she, and a hell of a lot stronger, she flew backwards and landed on her little round ass, fuming. “You’ll get it for that,” she spat.

“Whatever,” I replied, pushing my cart off the animal aisle and went in search of a video game for my brother, the eternal child.

Security apprehended me on the Lego aisle and now Blake’s refusing to bail me out. Oh well, Shana said she’d be right over, I heard her in the background. She at least gets it, even if I won’t be getting any until my Cowboy calms down. But I’ve gotta admit… it was SO worth it.

And hey, don’t look at me, the stuffed bat did it all.

Turmoil

Inside.

Outside.

It surrounds me these days. Home, work, it doesn’t matter, I can’t get a break.

At the office, I have an irritable general and a still-jilted ex-boyfriend (although it’s been close to six years since we separated) to deal with, along with the ordinary, everyday trials of not just working in an office, but on a military base full of MEN every day.

At home, I have to divide my time between my rambunctious toddler, so close to being two (if he makes it that long, that is) and my sweet but demanding infant daughter so close to walking (which is why the toddler may not live much longer). Add into that the laundry, the ritual cleaning, the cooking, the animals (now numbering three), and my husband… who may not make it much longer either.

Outside, it’s raining and cold, which puts the kids on edge and Blake over the edge. He wants to be out in the forest, chasing defenseless little bunnies… the kids just want to get drenched and play in the mud. Can’t say I blame the kids, I’d like to go outside and play in the mud too, I think.

Inside, it’s much harder. Inside, I’m a mess. With Blake essentially ‘losing’ his job and then being reunited with my long-lost daughter, I don’t know which way to turn. Having Blake home 24/7 is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it means the kids don’t have to go to daycare, but a curse because well, he’s home all the time. I love the man dearly, but Lord does he know how to push my buttons. Add on top of all that the misery of how I’m feeling – tired, achy, cranky, nauseous, irritable – I think you get the idea. Yeah, that. Not good, is it? Yet another downside to having him home all the time. He’s friskier than any man I’ve ever known and heavens to Mergatriod, I’ve known some frisky ones in my time.

So, there you have it. Drenched in indecision, swamped in turmoil, and as I look out at my boy chasing my daughter, my daughter chasing Houdini the Hamster, and my husband watching it all with that endearing grin of his, I come to a realization.

I really wouldn’t have it any other way. Not today, not tomorrow, and certainly not yesterday.

50 Odd Things

Damn that Crazy Lady anyway...

1. Do you like blue cheese?  Only to dip my hot wings in!

2. Have you ever smoked heroin?    No. Why do you ask?  *looks around for any lurking commanding officers*

3. Do you own a gun? Lots.  Wanna see?

4. What flavor do you add to your drink at Sonic?  Does tequila count?

5. Do you get nervous before doctor's appointments? Has Blake been home lately?

6. What do you think of hot dogs?  Mmm... love 'em grilled... and just a little burnt.

7. Favorite Christmas Song.   Deck the Tanks...

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Tequila (see CL, we ARE a lot a like)

9. Can you do push ups?   Yes ma'am.

10. Do you believe in God, Jesus and the holy spirit?    Usually.

11. What's your favorite piece of jewelry you wear?  Dogtags, second only to my wedding band

12. Favorite hobby?  See, that other woman made you wonder.  Me?  Me, I'll tell you straight out that it's CENSORED.

13. Do you work with people who idolize you?   Absolutely!  And if they know what's good for them, they better KEEP on idolizing me!

14. Do you have A.D.D.?   *snort*  Stupid question.

15. What's one trait that you hate about yourself?  You mean I have undesirable traits?

16. Middle name?  Rachael.

17. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment.  Where's Blake?  I have the Crazy Lady's Reese's Pieces.  And I really hate her for this.

18. Name 3 things you bought yesterday. Ammo. Coffee.  Tequila.

19. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink. Coffee, coffee, and tequila..

20. Current worry right now?   Is that Rory's hamster comes out of hiding soon.  He's been A.W.O.L. for about two days...

21. Current hate right now? That freaking little hamster!!!!

22. Favorite place to be?  Tucked in with my Cowboy.

23. How did you bring in the New Year? *snickers lewdly*  Do you REALLY want to know?  I've got pictures...

24. Where would you like to go?  To sleep.

25. Name three people who will complete this.  You've got me there.

26.  Whose answer do you want to read the most?  I'd really be interested to see what Blake has to say...

27. What color shirt are you wearing?   Camo.  Duh.

28. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?   Why?  Is Blake home?

29. Can you whistle? Yes

30. Favorite color(s)? Green.  Grey.  Camo.

31. Would you be a pirate?    Maybe, if the pay was right.

32. What songs do you sing in the shower?  Anything that might annoy Blake. 

33. Favorite girl's name?  Rayna

34. Favorite boy's name?  Rory

35. What's in your pocket right now?   There are those handcuffs!

36. Last thing that made you laugh?  Raynie baby eating her dinner.

37. Best bed sheets as a child?  Ummm... camo?

38. Worst injury you've ever had?  You don't want to know.  Seriously.  It was gruesome. 

39. Do you love where you live?  Absolutely.

40. How many TVs do you have in your house?   1

41. Who is your loudest friend?   Shana

42. How many dogs do you have?  None but the strays I feed.

43. Does someone have a crush on you?  Wouldn't doubt it.

44. What is your favorite food?   Tequila... err... nachos.

45. What is your favorite snack food?  Tortilla chips and salsa.

46. What is your favorite candy?   Tootsie Pops

47. What is your favorite sports team?  Army football!!

48. What song do you want played at your funeral?  If You're Reading This by Tim McGraw

49. What were you doing 12 AM last night?  *grins mischievously*

50. What was the first thing you thought when you woke up?   Damn, I can't bend that way any more...

I Love This...

I just KNEW there was someone out there who understood.  I just KNEW it.  Ali thinks I'm deeply deluded though.

 

Oh gods... she's looking at me with that LOOK again.  *sigh*  I think I'm about to get banned from the computer again...

~Blake, on the run...

Code Red

Oh my gods... do you see what Shana just sent me?  And just who are they kidding when they say two servings?

Code Red

Prep Time: 5 min

Level: Easy

Serves: 2 servings

4 ounces vodka
3 ounces peach schnapps
3 ounces amaretto
Splash cranberry juice
Splash orange juice
Orange slices, for garnish
Cherries, for garnish

Fill a big bowl with ice. Add all ingredients, garnish with oranges and cherries. Add straws and drink up.

Song #5

Once I’d tortured Shana with the fact that Billy had sent me HER CD as well as mine… I started to listen to what he had to offer this go round.

A couple of the songs were obviously inspired by her and their relationship which is just the coolest thing ever.  Lines about sapphire eyes or flame-colored hair, and I immediately knew they were about her.  How could you not?

But then, here comes song #5, an up-tempo, fun song.  It’s about relationships gone wrong and crazy women.  I was laughing… and then… the line about psycho brunettes with guns… and then I REALLY started to laugh.

Billy lurves me after all!

~Ali

So, Anyway...

This redheaded friend of mine calls me.  She's stuck with her new baby and can't get out.  I get these calls a lot these days.

Me: Hello?

Shana: Hey.  What are you doing?

Me: Um... working last time I checked.

Shana: Oh. 

Me (taking a deep breath): Guess what I got in the mail yesterday?

Shana: I give up.

Me: Your man's new CD.  He sent me an early copy.

Shana (shocked): Where's mine?

Me (shrugging into the phone): Dunno.  Sure he mailed them on the same day.  (laughing) I'm listening to Billllly... I'm listening...

Shana (getting angry): ENOUGH already.  You don't need to rub it in.  Need I remind you that it's totally unfair to tease me about Billy?

Me (at wit's end): Okay then, would you prefer that I remind you that my husband is sleeping with your boyfriend then?

Shana (awfully quiet for a minute): No, no I think teasing me about the CD will be fine.  Think I need to go to the mailbox.  Talk to you later.

She hangs up.  I burst into laughter.  Billy had accidentally mailed them both to me.  So, I have her copy and am now holding it hostage.  <insert evil laughter here>

Gods, but she knows she loves me (don't you?  And I can see you out there, reading this, steaming up the monitor with your breath)...

~Ali, aka Trouble on the Half Shell

If I Had a Cat…

Blake tells me he would look like this:

I just reminded him that this is why nobody likes him…

I refrained from reminding him that HE was the reason I did jail time the last time I did.  Arentcha proud of me?

~Ali and her jailbird kitty

I'm Retiring

That's it.  I'm freaking DONE.

Let me 'splain.  No, there is too much, let me sum up.

Stuffing: burnt.

Chicken: stuck to pan.

Stuffing: drowned by too much stock after it was burnt.

Gravy: refused to thicken.

Blake: Grouchy.

Rory: Hell on wheels.

Rayna: Sitting, babbling to herself.

Jabber Jaw, the Fat Hamster: MIA.

Me: thankful I stood firm on not letting that stray kitty into the house...

~Ali

Hee Hee Hee...

Now, that's what it's all about.

~Ali

Suspicious Activity Alert...

For the last several weeks, that cowboy of mine has been skulking around the house in a funk.  He's angry, he's depressed, and he's lost.  And my heart bleeds for the boy but he's been driving me nuts.

Today, however, he's much more chipper and it scares me.  The last time something like this happened, he'd joined forces with an um, old friend of mine and located my daughter that I'd been forced to give up when I was 22.  So, now he has me paranoid.  I haven't any other skeletons in my closet so I know he can't be planning anything like that but...

Will keep you informed.  And that reminds me, I don't think I've ever mentioned my reunion with Rhi.  *thinks*  Yeah, might have to give you some intel on that one later.

~Ali and her Oddly Acting Husband

Day Four and Beyond…

Despite the bitching, the bickering, and the pointing of fingers, most of our stay was uneventful, if a bit stressful. I tried not to let on because Blake would insist on doing what he thought was the right thing, and I just knew that that would cause so many more problems. I figured that I was a big girl and could deal with it for his sake. And Rayna’s not old enough for it to affect her. Much.

Things wouldn’t stay that way, however.

So anyway, I can’t even begin to tell you how hard this trip home has been on us as a family. We’d only been ‘home’ for a few days when Blake got some bad news. Well, sorta. It was one of those kinds of bad news that really can be good news if you look at it in the right perspective. I got it right away. Blake tried and eventually gave in. His family? Not so much.

And yup, you guessed her Chester – it’s all my fault.

Probably doesn’t help that it arrived on his birthday. While he was at home. Surrounded by his family. And I was playing odd man out and losing.

Sigh.

We were in bed (yeah, I know) when his phone rang. We’d had a late night the night before for several reasons and what you’re thinking now is only part of it (albeit the best part). So, we were snuggled and snoozing off and on, taking advantage of the kids actually sleeping in a bit. Unfortunately, we’d been expecting a all from Billy (that’s not the unfortunate part, the next bit is) so he didn’t even look at the display before he answered his phone.

I watched him answer his phone, happily expecting Billy or Shana, calling to give us an update on the baby that was so close to arriving. Instead, I watched as his bright smile faded and his eyes clouded over. Not good. Blake almost never lets his feelings show like this. Not even when it’s just ‘us’.

He mumbled something into the phone, snapped it shut and threw it across the bedroom, putting a hole in the wall near the dresser. This concerned me more than anything; he is a lot of things but violent is not one of them. Ever.

Turns out, he had right. The president of his label, and I’ll be classy enough not to tell you that it’s JASON MACKENNAH, calls my husband not just on his birthday but on his vacation to tell him they’ve decided the effort is not worth the reward. Translation: Blake no longer has a job. Yeah, you got it, they booted him off the label and bought out his contract simply because he wanted to be around when his daughter was born, and to spend a little time with his family. Outrageous. Pisses me off. I mean, really – others have taken much, much more time off for sillier reasons and never suffered any sort of backlash for it. Maybe its just Blake, chastising him because he’s not the next Tim McGraw or Kenny Chesney when instead, he’s just a guy with a good voice and a whole lot of passion and no more ambition than to go out and do what he does best.

Those are always my favorite kinds of singers anyway. They have nothing to prove and all they want to do (oh oh oh oh oooooh..)is to go out and entertain. Makes sense to me.

But apparently not to Blake’s record label.
Poor guy is heartbroken. And yeah, like I said earlier, his family is blaming me for all that’s happened. If I hadn’t INSISTED he take so much time off and DEMANDED so much of his time, maybe, just maybe he’s still have a job.

Double sigh.

I won’t get into the battles that ensued between his mother, his father, his sister, his stepmother and I that afternoon either. I’m ashamed that I couldn’t control myself on Blake’s birthday, especially after such bad news, but neither could I let them all place the blame on my shoulders.

I don’t know what to do for him. He’s helped me out when I’ve needed it the most, but right now, I’m just stuck. I’ve partially convinced him that this is a good thing – more time at home, more time to concentrate on his song writing (which suffers when he’s on the road so much), but yet, he feels bad. Feels like he should be the one supporting the family and making the money. I think someone forgot to tell him that he has enough stashed that it’ll be okay if he takes a few weeks off.

Ugh. If only Billy wasn’t so busy enjoying his new son. I know he’d know how to help me. Might have to kidnap Daddy later…

Pray for me? I think I need it these days.

~A sad and worried Cookie

Day Three

The Cowoby and I spent most of this day getting stuff together and hitting the airport to fly down to his hometown, just off the beaten path outside of Tulsa, OK. Now, I've been all over the world but haven't ever spent much time in Oklahoma, so I wasn't sure what to expect when we arrived. Things weren't as green as I had expected, due to the drought and fires that wipe out the state nearly every year, but it was pleasant and very small-town. The weather was warm and humid, and poor Rory, his little curls were frizzing like there was no tomorrow. I'd never tell his father this, but he looked like a male Shirley Temple.

It's very odd when you think that he arranged for his ex-wife Dana to pick us up at the airport instead of his mom or his sister. I guess that just tells you something about my relationship with his family. I get along better with his ex than I do with his parents or siblings. Go me. But then, Dana actually has a sense of humor. And she likes me. So there.

Dana and Blake were very covert about the whole operation, getting all five of us back to Blake's farm just outside the town limits of his small, secluded home town of Karma, OK. I think that if he'd still lived within the town, then we'd have been spotted a lot sooner than we were, but as it was, we were safe for most of the afternoon following the trip home. We were found at around dinner time.

Lucky us.

His sister caught us.

His brother interrupted us.

His mother screamed at us.

His father, well, we're not gonna go there because Blake refuses to tell me anything about that conversation.

*sigh*

Why can't our families just be accepting of who we are and who we love and just get over themselves? All three of my brothers took bitchy, snarky trophy wives that they don't even care about, yet they look good on paper (and in the newspapers together). But do I judge? No. I love my nephews despite the fact their parents are idiots. And I never, never tell them that to their faces. I am so angry any more that I almost wish that transfer to Dublin would come through for me. Yeah, I know, it'd piss Blake off, and we'd REALLY never get any time together, but at least I wouldn't be causing a rift between him and his family like I have been.

Oh, and don't mention that last part to Blake, please. He doesn't even know I put in for that transfer. I think he'd have a major moo-moo if I did. And I can't quite blame him. But I mean, especially after this trip, I'm at a loss. What do I do? Do I stay home alone for every holiday with Rayna since they accept RORY but not RAYNA nor ME? Or, do I turn bitch and make him stay home with US and not go home to be with his family? I'd really rather not do that because while his place IS with US, it's just not right. I may hate my family but they're the only one I have.

I dunno anymore.

*snicker* Wonder what Gaelic sounds like with a southern accent?

~Your Conflicted Cookie

Day Two

Our second day in Nashville started out innocently enough. I got up and hit the pavement for an early morning jog before the kids woke up. And well, I should have known better than to think Rory would sleep in after getting up at nearly 4 AM every morning for the last year of his life. So, while I was out getting my adrenaline rush on, Bucky was poking Daddy in the face until he was awake.

*snort*

Sorry, I know its mean, but he IS the child's father, is he not? Shouldn't he get up and make breakfast once in awhile? Not according to Blake, at least not for the first fifteen minutes after I returned home. He did eventually get over himself, like I knew he would, but still. Grow a pair, man, and own up to your responsibilities! But, in his defense, I make it much too easy on him and don't ever make him get up with either of the kids, knowing how little rest he gets while he's on the road. Guess I've coddled them all a bit too much, huh?

So, in an attempt to make up for yelling so loudly so early in the morning, Blake treated us all to breakfast at a little café he enjoys when he's in town. Had some tasty stuffed French toast topped with crème anglaise and a side of mixed berries. Again, I should have known better there – Rory is a berry thief. Big time. While I was enjoying a hot breakfast for once, the little runt was sneaking all my blackberries. And Blake let him! Grrr… He'll get his soon, I know. How? Because he decided he wanted me by his side during his fan club shindig later that day.

In order for me to attend, the kids needed a keeper. We had only one option – so Blake harangued his pal Hunter (and how bizarre is THAT that Blake has a friend named Hunter?) into loaning us his sixteen-year-old daughter for the evening. Luckily, Janna loves kids and had no problems giving up her Thursday afternoon for us. And the sweet thing arrived an hour early so that she could get to know Rory a bit while we were still around. Nice!

Anyway, Blake and I split to have a quick lunch before the chaos ensued, as it always does, when he's let loose in public. The good news is, his fan club president knows his mother and she enjoys keeping him in line. The bad news is, well, he tends to get a bit out of control when he's on stage. But, did you expect anything less?

Things are going well at first. He comes out, plays a few songs, does some Q&A, and then does a few more songs, joking with the small audience of his biggest and best fans. Not long after he launches into the second half of his Q&A, everything goes to hell in a hand basket. Quickly. There's a group of about five young women, younger than me (quit laughing), but old enough to know better, who keep peppering him with personal questions. REALLY personal. Which wasn't that bad at first, asking him silly things like which side of the bed he preferred (left), whether he wore boxers or briefs (tighy whiteys, God help me), and so on and so forth. He got a bit embarrassed over a few of them, but mainly because they fell under the TMI category than for any other reason.

Enter the HB (that's head bitch to those uninitiated in my acro-slang). She wants to know when he and Leslie are getting hitched. EXCUSE me? Umm… he's been married to ME for a YEAR plus now… he announced that little tidbit back at the beginning of the year, much to the displeasure of his record label. However, he felt he needed a real explanation for all the time he was about to (attempt to) take off. Blake glances at me, standing along the back wall, quickly and then reminds the little chit that he and Leslie had gone their separate ways nearly two years ago and that he had married ME. He then points me out, hiding in the back amongst the cookies (and how funny is THAT?). She turns, looks me up and down, finds me wanting and dismisses me completely. Turning back to Blake, she wants to know if he'd ever consider dating another musician like Leslie. I clear my throat, loudly, and get a LOOK from Blake. He's playing her game, but I've had it at this point.

Hello, I know I'm not as hot as or as young as Leslie, and I never will be. And yeah, I've wondered more than once why he chose ME, ME of all people, over her, but he DID. That's good enough. I do not need some biotch coming in and trying to usurp my position. I know, I know, I shouldn't let it bother me, after all, he IS coming home where? Here. Yeah. But still.

He managed to deflect her questions by asking her one about her, personally. And, well, like all self-absorbed crackpots, she took the bait and let loose with her life story. Niiiice Blake. He managed to get past her and her little group and get to the fun stuff – the trivia game and some other things his fan club president and I had come up with. Everything was fine, fine, fine until it was time for the party to disperse. Everyone managed to behave while he signed autographs and took pictures, even if a few did get a bit touchy feely (but then, he's got such a sweet ass, how could they resist?)… bugged me, but since no one was TOO invasive (no jewel grabbing at least), I didn't let it upset me. The real trial came as everyone was leaving.

I'd taken up a post near Rachel, the club President, talking while Blake hung out backstage, when the HB from earlier came and thought it was high time to confront me. Oh yes she did. And let me say this much – cow ought to be DAMN thankful that I left my piece at home (my real home, that is) or she'd have air conditioning in her skull right now. She had the nerve, the total NERVE, to get in my face and say, "I don't know how he thinks you're worth it, but you so don't measure up. He needs a real woman."

Oh. Hell. No.

Rachel gripped my forearm, knowing me and my temper. Just that simple touch kept me from decking her, however, it gave my mouth free reign. "Ya know, bitch. I guess you're right. If you find one, be sure to let Blake know, kay?"

I turned then, crossed the theater, and vaulted onto the low stage before I could smack her silly.

I've since discovered that, at Blake's request, Rachel has booted the bitch. *evil laughter* And even better? Rache had the idea before Blake even suggested it.

~Vindicated at Last, Ali

While the Cowboy is Away…

His Cookie will play…

Since Blake has taken Rory and disappeared for the time being, I thought I'd sneak in and update you at least a little on the fiasco surrounding his birthday celebration and our resultant trip home. Le sigh.

My initial flight into Nashville was, believe it or not, relatively uneventful. My brother drug himself out of bed at the butt crack of dawn (even for the two of us) to help me dress and drag my two children to the airport to wait an unbelievable amount of time for the flight. Rayna crashed big time once we were in the air and Rory, well, he's a curious little thing. He had to see and touch everything while asking a million questions nonstop. But, hey, as annoying as that was, at least he wasn't crying or screaming or being his normally obnoxious little self. He entertained the stewardesses and passengers in our area with his stuffed fish and Rayna's stuffed deer. I'm sure they've never seen the likes of my child before.

Our flight arrived on time and Daddy was there to meet us. He was ragged and worn out, having just left a meeting with his label president. THAT so did not go well, but I'll let you all in on that a bit later. Comes into play during his actual birthday, poor guy. Anyway, poor baby Blake herded us all into his truck and took us back to the small apartment he keeps for times like this. And, despite the fact he kept telling me it 'wasn't much' and just a 'small bachelor pad', I swear to all that's holy, that freaking apartment is larger than our house! He really needs to use a tape measure. After settling the kids in, we let them nap and we watched a movie, ordering dinner in when the time came.

That was Wednesday, a week before his birthday. Thursday, he had his annual fan club party at a small theater-like club in the early afternoon. That was an experience to remember. GRRRRR… will have to wait on that one, and think about what I want to say because I so wanted to have it out with a chick or two that afternoon…

But, I digress. And I hear the rumble of Blake's truck in the drive. Now that we're back in MY home, I need to be nice. *evil laughter* But seriously, I think he's had enough stress this year, why add more to it?

~A Not Quite Done Ali

So, Where Do I Start?

With my arrogant, insensitive in-laws? With my husband's idiotic employers? Oh, I know it… I should start my rant with a handful of jealous, overzealous fans! Yeah, that's the ticket.

Damn, he's frowning at me. That's not any fun. He's sensitive and doesn't want me bashing his fans, even if they deserve it. But, let me say this, not ALL of his fans are jerks. Just these few and I am not happy.

And Blake knows it. He's been keeping me as far away from my computer as he can for the last two weeks. Maybe once I calm down some, I'll start with his birthday and go from there.

You DO know that I love you, right? Even if I hate your family? I thought so.

Kisses, Cowboy…

~Ali on a Rampage

Almost Here

So, tomorrow's the big day. Poor ol' Blake's gonna be a whopping 32 years old. *snort* Not that I feel bad for him or anything. I'M going to be 34 not long after. No sympathy...

We've managed to avoid the family so far, but that will change tomorrow without a doubt. It's really sad when you'd rather have your husband's ex-wife pick you up at the airport than his family. But, um, well, have you met his family?

Now, I guess I ought to sneak over to Dana's and wrap Daddy's presents for tomorrow.

~Ali, refusing to give in to those big blue eyes and tell him what he's getting

So, Why Did God Make Oklahoma Anyway?

Surely, just to torture me and wonder why oh why?

Blake’s mother has convinced him he needs to come home for his birthday this year. Oh yay. Just what I wanted to do. Pack up my 2 ½ year old son, my 5 month old daughter, and FLY to Oklahoma just so I can listen to her, her ex and his new wife and all the siblings whine about how my husband can’t ever make a smart choice.

Add to that the fact that SHE has a place just down the road from him and I’m screwed. This is so not going to be a vacation. I’m just thankful we got to have Father’s Day to ourselves, mostly. Blake lied (good boy) and told his mother we couldn’t get an earlier flight out, so we didn’t even arrive until early evening. Delayed us enough to have an early lunch as a family. He felt guilty, but it didn't seem to affect his appetite any.

We got time to ourselves. Just us. He’s not proud, but he’s happy. And you better believe I'm a gonna keep you updated...

~Ali, soon to be on a Rampage

Chef for Hire

My brother, God love him, isn't the world's greatest cook. So, in an effort to surprise his very pregnant wife, he enlisted me, ME, mother to two (three if you count Blake and I usually do), tired and dragging, to help him out in his effort.

What can I say? I'm a sucker for a good love story.

Something simple, he says, something tasty, he says. But nothing else. Huh? Um, help here pal…

So, what I decided on was this. Thank you, Rachael Ray.

You Won't Be Single For Long Vodka Cream Pasta Recipe (um, hellllooooo… he's already married… even if it was pretty shotgun-like…)

(Courtesy Rachael Ray)

This recipe will make enough for 2 couples. If you plan a romantic evening where more than two's a crowd, reserve half the sauce to freeze for another supper before the addition of basil, and only cook 1/2 to 2/3 pound of penne.

(It's obvious she's never had to feed either my brother OR my husband…)

1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, once around the pan in a slow stream

1 tablespoon butter

2 cloves garlic, minced

2 shallots, minced

1 cup vodka

1 cup chicken stock

1 can crushed tomatoes (32 ounces)

Coarse salt and pepper

16 ounces pasta, such as penne rigate

1/2 cup heavy cream

20 leaves fresh basil, shredded or torn

Crusty bread, for passing

Heat a large skillet over moderate heat. Add oil, butter, garlic, and shallots. Gently saute shallots for 3 to 5 minutes to develop their sweetness. Add vodka to the pan, 3 turns around the pan in a steady stream will equal about 1 cup. Reduce vodka by half, this will take 2 or 3 minutes. Add chicken stock, tomatoes. Bring sauce to a bubble and reduce heat to simmer. Season with salt and pepper.

While sauce simmers, cook pasta in salted boiling water until cooked to al dente (with a bite to it). While pasta cooks, prepare your salad or other side dishes.

Stir cream into sauce. When sauce returns to a bubble, remove it from heat. Drain pasta. Toss hot pasta with sauce and basil leaves. Pass pasta with crusty bread.

Just don't forget the extra vodka needed to soothe your very frazzled nerves at the end of the cooking…

What's that, Blake? Oh, of course I'm still nursing. Nooooo, not me. I'd NEVER dream of drinking while nursing your child. *whispers to audience* I've always wondered if that was what happened to him…

Yes dear.

On my way, dear.

Men.

Can't live with 'em and you still can't shoot 'em…

~Ali (and her leftover farfalle with vodka sauce…)

Near-Hit

Looks like Shana narrowly escaped this time.

Ashton's gonna be a daddy after all. Just not with my redheaded friend. You'd think the boy would know better at this stage of the game, but I guess not.

My first thought was, Did she count wrong? But then my brain chimed in and made sense of what I'd just heard the DJ say. I must still have preggo brain or something.

Yay Ashton, I guess.

I can't wait to hear what Blake has to say about this. <insert eye roll here> I swear, that boy just needs to get over himself.

~Ali

Mwahahahahahaha...

I think I love the Internet... you can learn how to do darn near anything online... Like make a homemade crossbow.

Thank you WikiHow!

LMAO

~A Scary Ali (according to Blake...)

OY

and double vey.

That freaking BLONDE is involved.

*sigh*

Why Blake, why? What made you say yes? A duet? What the hell were you thinking?

Ah, that's right... you WEREN'T... Stay tuned, this can't be good.

~Ali, aggravated and irritated

Blake...

is being weirder than normal. Should I be concerned?

I'm just... concerned... that that BLONDE is involved again somehow.

~Ali

I've Been Wondering

...and I really probably shouldn't be pondering thoughts along these lines but, well, here it is...

Where's Paulo?

It's been almost four months without a word. He's not ever been um, chatty but he's never gone this long without sending me some kind of proof he was still breathing.

I dunno. I have faith that he can more than take care of himself. I just wonder sometimes.

~Ali

It All Comes Out in the Wash…

Or so the saying goes...

So, you know how it goes, you sit and chat with your honey about nothing, really, just small talk in the comfort of each other’s arms, right? You’re slowly getting to know each other, more and more every day, and even when you think you know all there is to know… WHAMMO!

You get nailed.

And why is it they can’t ever drop a good sort of bomb on you? Like they won an award for most productive Honor Society student or they’d been a mentor for an underprivileged child? No, can’t ever be that easy, can it?

Of course not, not with my husband anyway. See, we’d been talking about the kids and somehow wandered onto the topic of school… whether they’d be going to a private school, or on base, or whatever. Not things I’d thought of, but things he and I needed to start discussing eventually.

And as these things go, we started reminiscing about our past days in school. Mine were boring. I went to an all girl boarding school in Boston, just far enough away from my family to suit my needs. Graduated early, at 14, moved on to an Ivy League college, graduated at 17, and to Ireland after that. Interesting? Yeah. Exciting? Not so much. Well, not until Ireland, but I was almost an adult by then…

So, what does my charming husband tell me about his school days? “Oh, nothing much, Cookie, just that I got suspended for propping a dead deer up in my algebra teacher’s chair my freshmen year. And came close my junior year for squirting Doe in Heat in the girl’s locker room. Other than that, the parties, skipping class to go fishing, I was a good kid.”

Oh gods, and I spawned with the man! Heaven help me.

Better yet, please help Rayna. I have a feeling my Cowboy’s gonna be a hit with all of Rory’s friends. But Raynie? I dread the day she brings home her first boy. Daddy and Uncle Albie propped on the porch, shotguns in hand, and evil grins plastered on their faces. I guess it’s a good thing Mama’s got access to all the really good weapons.

~A thoughtful, Ali

Finally

It’s been awhile, no? Well, good reason behind that at least. Lil Miss Rayna Rhose has finally decided to join us here in the real world. About darn time, huh?

What’s that? She was early. Pshaw!

Okay, well, maybe a little early. But not by much. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. They’d predicted February 3rd. She arrived on January 25th. That’s only, what? Nine days? Not bad.

And talk about harrowing! That last week before her birth was crazy! Poor Billy got stuck babysitting me and, when it came down to the wire, I thought the poor boy was gonna pass out on me on the way to the hospital. Blake was stuck in an interview with a skank of a reporter. Come to find out she was doing everything in her power to get a piece of my man. Lemme tell ya, she’s soooo lucky I was busy having a baby because if he’d told me that before? Yeah, you know it too.

But, delayed or not, he made it just in the nick of time. At 4:23 PM, on Friday, January 25, 2008, out little girl arrived, happy, healthy, and screaming her little lungs out, thankful to be free at last. She weighed in at seven pounds, nine ounces, and has the biggest, bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. Well, unless you’ve been lucky enough to latch onto her daddy’s that is. And oh, the curls that little one has! Little dark brown ringlets everywhere!

I’m simply amazed at how much she resembles her half-brother, Rory. But then, they both look so much like their daddy that it shouldn’t really surprise me. However, knowing that they have two different mommies, it kinda stops me in my tracks, ya know? Lil Bucky seems to really like his little sister though, let’s just hope it stays that way, right? But so far, so good, and I’m not complaining.

And daddy? He’s in heaven. I’ve never seen Blake as content as his is right now, Rayna asleep on his chest, Rory with his head in his lap, thumb in his mouth, drifting off with his sister. Daddy looks like he’s not far behind either…

Which means Mama might actually get herself some quiet time. Shh… don’t tell, but I think I’m gonna sneak off and have myself a bath…

~Ali

Yeaaaah... Right!

I'm rather amused by the fact Scarlett thinks this is all MY fault. Little does she realize how much she really likes talking about herself.

*ducks flying crossbow bolts*

But seriously, I think she's going to get addicted just as quickly as I did. God only knows Blake doesn't want to listen to me ramble all the time. And neither do my co-workers. Not that I can actually TALK to anyone while I'm stuck on freaking bed rest like this. *sighs*

But these days, you do not want to let me get ahold of your ear. Especially on a day like today. Back aches. Tummy hurts. Rayna refuses to sit still. C'mon kid, aren't ya ready to make an apperance yet? Please? For Mommy? Besides, we can freak your Daddy out while we're at it and we all know how much FUN that is...

Gah, I am so uncomfortable today! What the heck is up with this? Wish Blake was around to give me a back rub, but he had an interview to do that his manager sprung on him last-minute. And unfortunately, the idiot (the manager, not my husband this time) promised Blake would be there. In person.

Honey? Hurry home...

~An extremely uncomfortable Ali

So They Tell Me...

That I'll be a Mama by the first week of February. The 7th is the date Dr. Eddie gave me this morning. I'm not so sure I'm going to make it that long... I'm betting before the end of the month. Blake's praying for next February. Poor guy, gonna actually have to change a diaper this time around, I think...

But seriously, this kid is ready to go. Wonder if Blake'd shoot me if I got into that red raspberry tea I picked up last week. Hmm, I doubt he'd figure out that I started my own labor soo...

But that wouldn't be nice, would it?

On the bright side, Shana and I managed to finish the nursery. I did NOT leave anything to Blake this time around. I am not going to take a chance on having a pink version of Rory's room, god help me. And yanno, I think Blake's been reading my old blogs. How do I know this, you ask? Maybe because I made an offhand comment once about how the only thing Rory's room was missing was a tree stand... and this last week, bored out of his mind, Blake BUILT him one... with a mini-playhouse at the top.

*sigh*

What am I going to do with that man? I swear, I either need to shut up or stop putting things in print. All I do know is that if I start finding stuffed deer and turkeys with fake arrows sticking out of them, he's sleeping on the couch!

Blech. Baby's kicking and I just wanna go home! Wish it were that easy... Good news is, I get to have dinner with my brother and Jo tonight. It should be interesting. But at least I get Johanna as a buffer.

Four-thirty, get here soon!

What WAS She Thinking?

I swear to all that's holy, I don't know what gets into that woman sometimes. I mean, she asked me what my resolutions for the new year were.

I know, seriously, right?

Um, and after reading her last post, well, let's just say that not strangling her might be at the top of my list. *glares evilly at the woman in the kitchen*

And then you get stupid ass me buying her a new handgun for Christmas. What the hell was I thinking? Why can't she be a normal woman and ask for $5,000 diamond earrings like my ex, Leslie, did? But noooo... I can't marry a normal woman, can I? No, idiot ol' me has to marry the woman who likes and appreciates fire power.

I'm rethinkin' my list, I think. Drink more. Sleep less. Buy more cammo maybe.

~a rather frightened Blake

Happy New Year

Scary to think that I started this blog December 27, 2006. Yes, 2006! Wowzers! And the fun I've had since then...

*cough*

I meant with the blogging. Really! No? Don't believe me? Well, then that means you've been reading regularly.

This past year, I've had a lot happen. Married my honey. Got a six-month-old cutie named Rory dumped into my lap and instantly fell in love. Got the crap beaten out of me and damn near got divorced. Twice. Fought and reconciled with my Cowboy. Damn near got myself killed trying to keep Blake from getting killed. Got pregnant with a child of my own and am now waiting for her to arrive. Six weeks and counting, girly girl.

I've made some new friends this year, as well as rediscovered a few old ones. My brother got married and is having a baby.

And so is Scarlett! I'm telling you, this is probably the second best news of the year. The first, of course was Blake asking me to come back home, but that's another drama all together. Just waiting to see if Red's gonna get hitched now or not...

I can't even begin to imagine what kind of chaos 2008 is going to bring. Although, it's now official... Blake is home until further notice. And the chaos my house is in proves just that. Man, at least they've let me out of the hospital. I'm still on bed rest, but at least I'm home, which is taming the destruction caused by Nerf darts, crazy babies, and well-meaning cowboys, but still...

So, the big question, the one everyone's asking: What are your resolutions?

I hate making resolutions. They never stick and are always about stupid things. What I tend to do is set goals and make promises. Yeah, promises.

My Goals Are To:
1. Not to murder Blake in his sleep.
2. Get this chaos under control and institute some order while Cowboy is still home.
3. Plan Scarett's wedding (whether she knows it or not).

My Promises Are To:
1. Be a good mommy and not murder Daddy in his sleep...
2. Be a good wife and not do the same as above.
3. Spend some serious time just being a family while I can. I fear we're gonna lose Daddy much sooner than either he or I would like... damn this life he lives anyway!

I'm sure there will be more before too long, but this works for now. Hope you are having a good year so far. Do what you can to make it your best yet.

~Ali and Raynie Baby