Releasing My Inner Freak
/I love Saturdays. Today is the day I can kick back, crack the whip, and watch my little servants children clean my house. Of course, they don't do a very good job, but when your vision is blurred by the mommy juice, everything just sparkles so purdy-like.
While my little slaves, and please note, I didn't strike the word 'slave'. Why bother denying it? After all, I figure they owe me. I gestated those lil' buggers for ten months (cuz they refused to leave the womb like normal babies), got stretch marks and a permanent hemorrhoid for my effort. When they decided to vacate the premises to explore the world awaiting them, they burst forth with such gusto that they left my poor vagina torn and tattered. And let's not get into the horrible things they did to my nipples. I have since endured the indignities of having to clean up all manner of body fluids and solids, have been repeatedly infected with plague-like germs, have been called to the principal's office more times than a little boy with ADD and have had to eat more ketchup-covered foods than a human should be made to.
So yes, my slaves. While my slaves scrub (half-assed, admittedly) and polish, and generally try to make our home presentable, I like to kick back with my coffee and Bailey's, grab a book, and relax. Occasionally, I will look up, and point out where they missed a spot. Because I'm thoughtful like that.
If they are really nice to me (re: don't whine too loudly) I will let them play music whilst they toil. Because I am a big music lover. Nothing soothes the soul of this beast like melodic harmonies blaring from my antiqued stereo system. So, when the lovely Southern Mom of 2 tagged me for this musical meme, I was delighted. And fearful.
Because now you will all know my lack of taste doesn't just extend itself to cheap wine and smelly puns. It is awful across the board. The rules of this particular meme, if you are unaware, are that I am to list seven songs I am presently enjoying and then pass the pain along to seven more.
Well, dear internet, I am nothing if not a sentimental fool. My music tastes run the gamut but I have thisannoying charming quirk of having to play the same songs over and over again, every damn day, even if I am listening to a new artist or c.d. If my stereo is on, these songs must pass the speakers and into my ears. I'm kinda obsessive about this. To the point that my husband and small children would like to hurt me when they hear these songs.
So, this musical meme is perfect to me. I can share their pain with you. And share I will. Buckle your seat belts and be prepared to be shocked and amazed at my inner musical geekiness.
I'm so embarrassed.
1. TO WHERE YOU ARE, Josh Groban. I figure this is pretty self-explanatory, but for some clarification, after my son passed away, I was struggling with facing our first Christmas only weeks after his passing. When I went through our mail, I found a parcel from his lovely Lyle. His pediatrician knew how I suffered and mailed me this c.d with a sticky on it to listen to this track. Fric, Frac and myself mourned that night; raw with our wounds, while listening to the voice of an angel. Now we listen to this song and smile and it brings us closer to our Bug.
2. RESPECT, Aretha Franklin. Words that I live by. Generally with a hairbrush in my hand while dancing around with Fric and Frac, trying to capture my inner Aretha.
3. ANIMALS, Nickelback. Gotta love any song that reminds you of the time you and your husband were 18 and parked out in the middle of nowhere, engrossed in a good match of tonsil hockey, when out of no where, a police officer appears, raps on the window and wants to know if everything is alright. And wants to hear it from the lady. The lady who is shirtless and trying to cover herself up while dying of embarrassment. Yeah, gotta love that song.
4. WHAT A GOOD BOY, Barenaked Ladies. My inner musical geek shines through here. But every time this song comes on, my hubs starts to sing and rock out and I get to giggle at him. True love at it's finest.
5. TINY DANCER, Elton John. I discovered Elton at the tender age of thirteen. I have loved him ever since. I can rock out to any of his music and whenever I feel particularly stressed, his is the first voice I long to hear to chill out to.
6. THE TRUCK GOT STUCK, Corb Lund. Let me explain, before you stone me and hiss. First off, you can't live in Alberta, go to live shows and avoid Corb. He is an institution. And he is so very, very nice. Really. I've met him. More than once. Secondly, you can't be an Albertan farmer and not understand this song. And thirdly, my kids know every word and we like to screech it from the top of our lungs. And I live close to a Hutterite colony and it is sooo true.
7. I'LL BE THERE, Shane Young. Another lesser known Canadian gem. He also happens to be my Piano man, and provider of free booze. How could I not love him? On Valentines day he crooned all my favorite songs to me and my hubs so as to ensure Boo would get lucky that night. That's friendship at it's finest. Plus, he's teaching me to cook. So my husband won't leave my sorry ass. What's not to love?
There you go, my inner freak revealed. I'm not going to tag anyone, cuz I'm a rule-breaking rebel that way. Now I'm going to slink off into the darkness of the interweb, plug in my earbuds and pray I don't die of embarrassment. But not before I get the kids to scrub the floors.
While my little slaves, and please note, I didn't strike the word 'slave'. Why bother denying it? After all, I figure they owe me. I gestated those lil' buggers for ten months (cuz they refused to leave the womb like normal babies), got stretch marks and a permanent hemorrhoid for my effort. When they decided to vacate the premises to explore the world awaiting them, they burst forth with such gusto that they left my poor vagina torn and tattered. And let's not get into the horrible things they did to my nipples. I have since endured the indignities of having to clean up all manner of body fluids and solids, have been repeatedly infected with plague-like germs, have been called to the principal's office more times than a little boy with ADD and have had to eat more ketchup-covered foods than a human should be made to.
So yes, my slaves. While my slaves scrub (half-assed, admittedly) and polish, and generally try to make our home presentable, I like to kick back with my coffee and Bailey's, grab a book, and relax. Occasionally, I will look up, and point out where they missed a spot. Because I'm thoughtful like that.
If they are really nice to me (re: don't whine too loudly) I will let them play music whilst they toil. Because I am a big music lover. Nothing soothes the soul of this beast like melodic harmonies blaring from my antiqued stereo system. So, when the lovely Southern Mom of 2 tagged me for this musical meme, I was delighted. And fearful.
Because now you will all know my lack of taste doesn't just extend itself to cheap wine and smelly puns. It is awful across the board. The rules of this particular meme, if you are unaware, are that I am to list seven songs I am presently enjoying and then pass the pain along to seven more.
Well, dear internet, I am nothing if not a sentimental fool. My music tastes run the gamut but I have this
So, this musical meme is perfect to me. I can share their pain with you. And share I will. Buckle your seat belts and be prepared to be shocked and amazed at my inner musical geekiness.
I'm so embarrassed.
1. TO WHERE YOU ARE, Josh Groban. I figure this is pretty self-explanatory, but for some clarification, after my son passed away, I was struggling with facing our first Christmas only weeks after his passing. When I went through our mail, I found a parcel from his lovely Lyle. His pediatrician knew how I suffered and mailed me this c.d with a sticky on it to listen to this track. Fric, Frac and myself mourned that night; raw with our wounds, while listening to the voice of an angel. Now we listen to this song and smile and it brings us closer to our Bug.
2. RESPECT, Aretha Franklin. Words that I live by. Generally with a hairbrush in my hand while dancing around with Fric and Frac, trying to capture my inner Aretha.
3. ANIMALS, Nickelback. Gotta love any song that reminds you of the time you and your husband were 18 and parked out in the middle of nowhere, engrossed in a good match of tonsil hockey, when out of no where, a police officer appears, raps on the window and wants to know if everything is alright. And wants to hear it from the lady. The lady who is shirtless and trying to cover herself up while dying of embarrassment. Yeah, gotta love that song.
4. WHAT A GOOD BOY, Barenaked Ladies. My inner musical geek shines through here. But every time this song comes on, my hubs starts to sing and rock out and I get to giggle at him. True love at it's finest.
5. TINY DANCER, Elton John. I discovered Elton at the tender age of thirteen. I have loved him ever since. I can rock out to any of his music and whenever I feel particularly stressed, his is the first voice I long to hear to chill out to.
6. THE TRUCK GOT STUCK, Corb Lund. Let me explain, before you stone me and hiss. First off, you can't live in Alberta, go to live shows and avoid Corb. He is an institution. And he is so very, very nice. Really. I've met him. More than once. Secondly, you can't be an Albertan farmer and not understand this song. And thirdly, my kids know every word and we like to screech it from the top of our lungs. And I live close to a Hutterite colony and it is sooo true.
7. I'LL BE THERE, Shane Young. Another lesser known Canadian gem. He also happens to be my Piano man, and provider of free booze. How could I not love him? On Valentines day he crooned all my favorite songs to me and my hubs so as to ensure Boo would get lucky that night. That's friendship at it's finest. Plus, he's teaching me to cook. So my husband won't leave my sorry ass. What's not to love?
There you go, my inner freak revealed. I'm not going to tag anyone, cuz I'm a rule-breaking rebel that way. Now I'm going to slink off into the darkness of the interweb, plug in my earbuds and pray I don't die of embarrassment. But not before I get the kids to scrub the floors.