I like to stay at home on New Year’s Eve.  I find this night, above most other nights, to be “amateur night.”  That is, those people who rarely drink decide to get wasted by 9:30 and then ruin everyone else’s night.  These are the people who attract the bouncers and cops, therefore putting the rest of us at risk.  And dont get me started on all the drunks on the road.  So I’m staying at home.  I’ll go out and get drunk when the amateurs are at home, thank you very much.

I have plans to hit the grocery store for mountains of junk food and beer, then come home and make some of the best nachos this side of the Mississippi (No idea what that means, but I like to say it).  In the meantime, I’m making my list of New Year’s Resolutions.  They will last about a week.  Some of them won’t last through tomorrow.  But hell, at least I’m trying.

1.  Be sweeter to the husband.  If, however, he forgets to make “be less annoying” one of his resolutions, thereby irritating the piss out of me and making my resolution impossible, I will at least give more blow jobs to make up for asshole attitude that is, technically, his fault in the first place.

2.  Work “taint” into regular, every day conversation.  Not necessarily in a naughty way.  Example:  I feel that the new Illinois Senator has the TAINT of negativity because he was appointed by the governor.   See?  Sounds smart, but I get to say taint.  Save this type of comment for appropriate situations:  Damn, can y’all excuse me for a second?  My taint itches.”

3.  Have more sex.  With or without husband.  (Note to self:  Must stock up on AA batteries before tomorrow!)

4.  Drink less, but more often.  No more binge drinking.  Not as much binge drinking.  Binge drink only twice a month. 

5.  Eat less sugar.   Drink it instead.

6.  Be the hottest, happiest Housewife this side of the Mississippi.  (?)

Cheers and Happy 2009!

Holly

I’m in the northeast right now and I have one question: where are the hot blondes? It seems I am the only blond within a 400-mile radius. I am pretty sure I am sticking out like a sore (yet beautiful, of course) thumb.

We were at a big family/friends gathering today and I didn’t even have to be introduced before people kept coming up and saying “You must be the TEXAS girl!” Is the the blond hair? The boobs? The bling?

Compared to my tame yankee relatives, it just seems that I wear more diamonds, wear brighter clothes, show more cleavage, say way more outlandish things. Sometimes I play a little game (that only I know about) where I see how fast I can make my mother-in-law’s jaw drop. It usually takes around 7 seconds.

P.S. Can some of you skinny bitches tell me how to lose 10 pounds in a week and a half? I have a party coming up that I need spruce myself up for. I am up for any kind of crazy diet plan, voodoo wrap or disgusting liquid diet. Maybe I could just get a tan and that will make it appear that I have lost weight??? I’m willing to try some crazy shit to make this happen.

Last week I was stuck behind a red “Tauru”.  I’m assuming the “s” fell of off the old Taurus to keep us from being confused that “Tauru” actually has a gas pedal and can “s”peed.  Perhaps the “s” flew right off at 52 miles an hour , on the Tollway , in the fast lane, and the owner just didn’t want to risk the other letters flying off, too.  Maybe even I was putting myself at risk of injury from the flying letters by driving up this car’s ass.

Seriously!  Who goes 52 in the far left lane?  On the Tollway?  Apparently Tauru does.  I swear to you if the psychiatric med’s hadn’t caused me to lose my short term memory I would’ve remembered the license plate number and posted it here.

52.

Why 52?  And I do realize my Mercedes SUV doesn’t look that threatening when it comes right up on your ass.  However, when you look in your rearview mirror and see a crazy woman flailing her arms around and making big pointing to the right movements , well, that should scare you enough to change lanes!  Because that could be a crazy housewife that hasn’t left the house in a few weeks and has totally forgotten what it’s like to interact with the outside world.

Oh, but that’s right, you couldn’t see me.  You also had a shower rod going across your backseat with clothes hanging from it.  What the hell were you doing in Collin County.  Nope, not a question, just an observation.

Ciao!/Sabrina

If any of you have waited until today to finish up your Christmas shopping, let me just say to you that Target on Preston is out of everything and that every person on the road today is on the phone, in a hurry and pissed, so beware.  I just ran out to get some bananas, milk and chapstick (gotta get ‘em lubed for Santa’s Christmas Eve present) and not only were the shelves picked almost bare, the store was packed with irritated, bustling people.  I feel sorry for the kids of some of those people…they are getting dark chocolate mints and Play-Doh with busted lids in their stocking this year (way to go, Mom and Dad – procrastinate much?)

I guess my point is this:  It’s Christmas Eve.  Stay at home and enjoy your family.  Avoid the hustle and bustle that is the mall, Target or God forbid, Wal Mart.  Bake some cookies and turn on the fire (does anyone in Collin County still use actual logs?) and sing Christmas carols.  Most of all, have the HOLLIEST, jolliest holiday season ever!  (And if you can’t do that, buy a jug of egg nog and call it a day.)

Merry Christmas!

Holly

Are you having a Holly. Jolly. Good. Time?

I would say you’re having the holliest of jolliest of good times if you decorate your fucking car for Christmas.  Why?  Why must you drive around with wreaths on the front end of your car?  Garland laced around your luggage racks on your minivans? 

My house looks like someone very large ate a lot of green something and red something and then vomited all over it.  That’s plenty for me.  I’ve even got the Santa and reindeer yard art.

But I do not need reindeer horns coming out of my passenger windows, with a big red nose on the front end of the car!

It’s a disgrace!

Decorating your car for Christmas , a Do or a Don’t?

So I’m having some slightly severe anxiety over our upcoming holiday travel.

In an effort to slash some of the eleventy billion dollars we spend each year on plane tickets visiting the in-laws, we decided to try our luck on Priceline. Hmm, maybe that was not such a great idea.

Not only we are basically being re-routed halfway across the country but we have a FOUR HOUR layover each way with TWO CHILDREN, a partridge and a pear tree. And 47 snacks. And 70 bags of diapers/stickers/bottles/wipes/benedryl in case of hyperactivity emergency.

And the best part about this year’s travel is that not only do we have to haul all 70 of these bags through the airport but now the airline will be charging us $798 extra for said luggage. AWESOME!!!!

We have not had such great luck with air travel in the past. There was the time that my lovely husband picked up the wrong bag at baggage claim and didn’t realize it until 6 hours later, over an hour from the airport. He opened ‘our’ bag to find a lovely hand-stitched quilt with pictures of cats all over it. We are dog people. And I don’t sew. Again, AWESOME!!!

Or there was the time that my husband drove off with the diaper bag on the bumper of the car while I stood in the freezing rain in the dropoff lane waving my arms to no avail. And where was his cell phone when I was frantically calling to tell him? IN THE DIAPER BAG.

Or perhaps I could mention the first time we flew with my son where – as soon as we took off – he pooped the kind of poop that could only be rivaled by a 400-pound man who had been eating Pittsburg hot links for weeks and suddenly taken a box of laxatives. And OF COURSE I did not have enough wipes. Let me tell you that we were not the most popular flyers on that cold winter day.

Maybe everything will turn around this year and things will run smoothly. Maybe this year I will bring enough $1 bills so I can drink myself silly on the plane and not get bitch-slapped by the flight attendant for not bringing exact change

Cheers!

Dr. Kaff asked us to review him shortly after we reviewed Dr. Plate.  I didn’t think I could give him a fair review if I didn’t try something different that he offered in his office.  So I went with the witch craftery footbath.  Which required me to wear a bamboo belt.  And corn husks in my ears.  And an eagle feather in my ass.

Well, not really.  And I’m not going to review him on the footbath, as we both agreed it wouldn’t be a very fair review because how do we know if it worked or not?

When I arrived I was expecting the same gallant gentlemen to greet me as Dr. Plate had done.  But I came in through the back door.  So instead of being greeted I was questioned by a woman that was in a room with rows of massage tables (as if I’d want a massage cattle call style).  She didn’t come out of the room, even though no one else was in the room with her.  She waved me to the front.  So I meandered to the front.  Where I was handed The War and Peace of medical questionnaires.  Pissed yet?  Getting there.  I explained that if they seriously expected me to fill all this out I would lie because I’m under an alias and plan to stay that way.  So I half ass filled it out.

One of the questions was:  Do you sit on your wallet?  Of course I answered no.  Then the bottom question was:  Are you under a lot of stress.  Of course I answered, “Yes.  Because my husband sits on his wallet all the time.”

Then Dr. Kaff came out and really wanted me to fill out the questionnaire.  Then he took me back to the back where I had originally come in.  Stuck my feet in the tub, sprinkled some garlic or something in the water, then placed a black vibrating thing in there with my feet.  Then handed me a pamphlet to read while I sat with my feet soaking.  And then he left me.

The office closed and only he, Holly, and I were left.  Holly was getting acupuncture then a footbath. 

And here’s where I just about had a heart attack:

Once my footbath water had turned a nasty, rusty orangey, brown he came back there and handed me a roll of paper towels to wipe off my feet.  I had to wipe my own feet.  Oh, I’m sure that he has “people” that do that for him , but hey!  You’re being reviewed here and you know it!  Best behavior?  Customer service?  Sucked.

And THEN, as if I couldn’t bear anymore I mention that I’m thirsty but wasn’t sure if it was because of the toxins removed in my footbath and 2 seconds later he announces he’s getting himself something to drink.  He promptly opens the fridge, grabs a water, then checks on Holly.

AND THEN, as if he’s just trying to make me not like him, he pulls one of the painters from painting the office and tells him that if he’s ever “bored or needs to kill time he should check out our website.”

It was then that I pictured him drowning in my nasty brown foot water.

Dr. Kaff did not show us around the office.  He didn’t explain anything.  And leaned back when he did visit with us as though he was the high school quarterback and we were the marching band geeks just lucky that he was paying any attention to us at all.

Sabrina gives Dr. Kaff 1 out of 5 Countinis.  Why one?  Because he let me pull the needles out of Holly and that was totally BAD ASS!

Never before has a review caused such dissent among the housewives, until Dr. Kaff. I will admit that our arguments over this almost caused a fistfight (or shank attack) at a recent Housewife happy hour at Mattitos.

My opinion is this: I totally dig Dr. Kaff. Period.

 I loved his personality, thought he was totally professional and his office staff was beyond nice. I opted for traditional chiropractic care , my lower back has been killing me forever , and he did X-rays, an adjustment, massage therapy and put me on this crazy cool table that stretched me out over and over again.  He didn’t just give me one appointment either , he offered me a whole set of treatments to get me back into fabulous housewife shape.

 Plus he’s hot – in that high school quarterback kind of way. Oh, and funny as hell. I would recommend him again and again!

 Stella gives Dr. Kaff 5 out of 5 Collin Countinis.

Ah, Dr. Kaff, .he’s an enigma and a riddle all rolled into one.  Wait.  What?  I don’t know what I’m talking about.  Except that I do.  Do you feel confused?  Then you know how I feel about Dr. Kaff.  He was friendly enough when I met him, but in an aloof, cool, high school quarterback kind of way.  I didn’t know whether to smack him or French kiss him.  Alas, I did neither. 

He performed acupuncture on me.  I thought I’d be freaked out, but it was actually pretty cool.  So cool that I even let Sabrina pull the needles out.  It was very Jolie-esque, if you get my drift.  Sadly, I didn’t make out with her either.  I got an adjustment and a foot bath too, but the acupuncture is what really sticks in my mind.  I don’t know if it was all in my mind or what, but I felt so calm, so relaxed, so “at peace” that whole night and the next day.   I have no clue how it works, but Momma likes. 

Kaff wasn’t as professional as I had expected, but frankly, that made me feel more comfortable.  I’m not a professional-type person and his laid-back demeanor made me feel less self conscious about being stabbed (with needles, of course) and adjusted.  The office staff is extremely courteous and professional, however, and I’d recommend you check them out for yourself.

Holly gives Kaff 3 out of 5 Collin Countinis (I would have given him 4 if he’d let me take home the Bamboo Belt, you’ll have to visit to find out!!!)

I love Texas.  They call off school when there is the slightest chance that there will be a small patch of ice on one road on the east side of town.  The great thing about this is that you get a Snow Day without being stuck at home all day.  I took the kids to the mall for about 4 hours yesterday.  There were no crowds, so I didn’t leave with my usual “I’m never going shopping again” attitude.   I even let the kids play on the play area for an unusually long time.  And while I was there, I noticed something.  Pierced ears.  On babies.  I saw about 4 babies with pierced ears in the 30 minutes we were at the play area. 

What is with the pierced ears on babies?  I seriously want to know.  As a person who has always viewed the ear piercing ritual as a rite of passage into teenhood, I am confused about the reasoning behind poking holes with a gun into a small infant’s tiny ears. 

For just a second, let’s forget about the  Nevermind that they probably think they are getting yet another vaccination…to the head.  And forget about the loud noise that probably literally scares the shit out of them (Check the diaper after a piercing…betcha there’s a ton of crap in there!)   Really, I’m thinking more about the maintenance of this whole deal…you have to keep those pointy earrings in for over a month.    I didn’t sleep for 6 weeks.  Those points were brutal!  Think about babies.  They are laying on their ears ALL THE TIME.  Some of them can’t even roll themselves.  They certainly can’t tell you that it hurts. 

What about when you had to keep turning the earrings?   if you forgot to do it just one day, the skin would be all stuck to the earring and it would sting when you had to rip it away from the metal.   Yikes.  Why would you do this to an infant?  (Keep in mind, this is coming from a mom who was a bit squeamish about pulling the foreskin away from my baby boy’s penis to keep it from sticking.)

Ok, so you make it past the first 6 weeks or so and, presumably, your child hasn’t been scarred for life (Although we really won’t know this until they are around 15…keep an eye on them).  Are you going to change earrings to match outfits every day?  Do people do that?  Really?  I’ve worn the same pair of silver hoops for two years because I don’t have the time or energy to find earrings for every outfit.

Let’s not forget about the rite of passage that these babies are missing by already having their ears pierced as babies.   I had to wait until the 7th grade to get my ears pierced.  It was gloriously terrifying and exciting all at once.  I got a huge card with about 20 pairs of earrings.  Ah, the greenish-black ear hole that only earrings from Claire’s can really provide.  You gotta love it.  But what do these babies have to look forward to?  They’ll have to resort to nipple piercing when all their friends go to the mall to get their ears pierced.   

So what’s up, ladies?  I know there are lots of you out there…so explain it to me.  What is so wonderful about driving small stakes through the smooth, sensitive skin of your infants’ ears?  I’ve been silent long enough…I need answers!

We go to Colorado to ski every Thanksgiving.  It’s a great kick-off to the holiday season.  I don’t ski, but I sure as hell spa.  Can you use spa as a verb?  Don’t care, going to use it as a verb anyway.

With all the recent economic woes in our face daily, we decided that flying 5 of us and paying the baggage handling fee was not worth it, when we could “so easily drive”.  Oh and how fun for the kids to get to see the world.  The world being mostly East Texas and a smidge corner of New Mexico.

We were driving along and out in front of the car there blew a tumbleweed.  I had to announce it as though we were in a Disney theme park and Mickey had just jumped out and waved.  “Look kids!!  A Tumbleweeeeeeeed!   Ohhhhhhh!”  Then we started hitting all the cotton farms.  I pulled over for those.  Stopping, making everyone put their shoes back on.  Stomping through the dirt and over the gulley so that my children could experience seeing cotton when it’s a crop and not a shirt.

Then we drove up through The Panhandle area of Texas.

Now, mind you, my husband drives his car on race tracks.  He liked it when gas was high because it kept people off the road.  More space for him to drive at G-Force breaking speeds.  So he’s telling me as I’m driving pointing out the cattle and the tumbleweeds that I could be going faster.  Informing me with the utmost authority, “You can go 20 over the speed limit before they’ll take you to jail.  So, could you speed up?”

That meant driving 90.  So I set the cruise control and not one second after I set it , I got pulled over.  He clocked me doing 89 in a 70.  He walks up to the passenger side of the car, where my husband was sitting.  The whole time I’m thinking, if hubs wasn’t sitting here I could totally get out of this ticket!  Hubs was cock blocking me!  I’ve not had a ticket since I learned how to be schmoozey.  But hubs was between me and my ability to flirt with the guy , Cock Blocker!

Hubs drove the rest of the way to Breckenridge, Colorado.

On the way home we decided to follow the navigation system in the car.  It took us through Kansas.  This thrilled my 6 year old to no end!  Constantly asking, “Are we in Kansas yet?”  I couldn’t figure out why she was so fascinated with Kansas.  Then she said it.  Something so adorable and imp like.  “Mommy, will everything be black and white when we get there?”  She was thinking of the Wizard of Oz.  And then I reached back and sucked her face off and chewed on it and then gave it back to her.

Then hubs decided he was tired of driving 115 miles per hour and was ready for me to take the wheel.  Not 2 minutes later I got pulled over and ticketed for going 89 in a 70.

Today I’ve spent getting money orders and petitioning the courts.  And after all the cost of the tickets and my driver’s ed , we could’ve flown.

Needless to say we felt like a couple of ass clowns when we finally rolled back into the hood vowing to never drive anywhere on vacation ever, ever again.  And part of us felt like there’s no place like home.  There’s no place like home.  There’s no place like, ,

Do we love gifts?  Hell yes!  Especially when they come in pink and silver octaganol boxes and contain some form of liquor!  Hell yes!

Dear readers,

We try to love you all equally.  Honest.  No take backs.  No fingers crossed.  But Miss Snodgrass is now our favorite.  Hey – don’t be all waah about it.  She gave us a four pack of the drink Sofia.  Just to make our season a little more jolly-full.

Not only do we get to try something new, it also gives us Housewives another reason to get together!!

Thank you so much Miss Snodgrass!  It was truly a surprise and we are looking forward to sharing it with each other.  You’re very kind and thoughtful…wha?  Yep.  Miss Snodgrass is VERY kind and thoughtful.  She even wraps pretty.

Ciao!/Sabrina