I have been having some STRANGE dreams lately because I’ve been wearing pj’s to bed the past couple of nights because its been somewhat cold.  But the problem when I wear pj’s to bed is that by around 3 am I am INSANELY hot and sweaty and grumpy but to tired to take off my pj’s so then my body tortures me and says “fine you want to turn me into a little sweat lodge?  well THEN I am going to give you nightmares for the rest of the night!!!!” 

Two nights ago I had a dream that I was in a car driving around and I was a teenager.  I picked up my boyfriend and then suddenly he got this grossed out look on his face I followed his eyesight to see that he was looking at my stomach.  I looked to down to see that I was wearing a tube top.  eww.  Now I know this is a nightmare because I think tube tops are a gross look on anyone.  So my stomach was all showing… but heres the thing that was gross… i had this flat stomach but you could see the outline of a rectangular object pushing out through my skin.  you know kind of like that photo floating around where you can see that babies foot on that prego belly. 

anyway so my boyfriend says “what is that?”  and I immediately know what it was “A burrito”  “You swallowed it whole?”  “Yeah”  and then I was so embarrassed that I made myself wake up…

DANGIT!!! I hate when this happens… yet another post that I hit Publish instead of Save draft. Sometimes I REALLY REALLY HATE GOOGLE READER!!!

because even if I delete this post because after I wrote I thought it sounded so Rtarded I know that it will still show up in all your readers anyway.

gosh i feel dumb.

This past spring Dallen joined a baseball team here in Georgia.  Midway Venom.  It was Dallen’s first team sport and we all had a great time going to his games. Not only was it Dallen’s first team sport… it was also my first time being a sporty mom.  So basically I had no clue what to do.  And also its important for you to know that Southerners take sports very SERIOUSLY.  even 6 year old baseball. 

Dallen’s coach was a really nice southern guy named Coach Johnny.  He was so good with the kids but wasn’t afraid to get after them if they weren’t  doing what they were asked.  He always made Dallen feel a part of the team and every time Dallen got up to bat Coach Johnny would say “Oh no here comes BIG DADDY K”  “COME ON BIG DADDY K HIT THIS BALL”  Dallen loved that so much and always had the biggest grin on his face. 

Well one day after a game Coach Johnny said to us “Next game I would like for you to give the kids some diet coke and a mini snickers like 5 minutes before start of the game” (for energy?)  I was like you got it coach.  I just wanted Dallen to succeed so badly. 

So for the last couple of games right before the game I was in the dug out with dallen handing him over a can of diet coke and a snickers.  A full size snickers because the snack bar didn’t have just “mini”  So Dallen would run out all hyped up on caffine and sugar (i am the worlds best mom)  (in my defense I was just trying to fit in with all these baseball mom’s who probably know what they are doing)  anyway he would have a great time standing there in outfield.  He probably saw all sorts of hallucinations… neon butterflies and dancing bears :)

So end of season.

End of story.

Except a couple of months later I was talking with one of the experienced baseball mom’s and we started talking about Coach Johnny and she adds “and we (meaning all the other mom’s) couldn’t believe he asked us to give the kids diet coke and snickers!”  and I guess she forgot that it was ME in the dugout smashing a snickers in my boy’s face before every game so I responded “Ohmagosh I KNOW!”  inside though GULP

here’s my son making his mama proud

Running on 1800 grams of pure white stuff and 40 grams of aspertame

This past weekend I went up to my aunt and uncles cabin with my sister in law (Lisa) and her husband (Joe)  Lisa is my cousin.  Joe is Chad’s brother.  Thats right two cousins married two brothers.  So its one big happy family see.  Also my mother and father in law came up. 

I have a jokey side.  Which you guys get to enjoy on me bloggy blog.  Its the jokey side I use with 90% of the people in my life.  The other 10% still get a fun version of me but more on the demure side. 

of the 90% of the people that get my jokey side about 10% get the elite jokey side of me.  which means I get really really hyper and super silly and say anything that I want.  Sometimes that elite 10% group mixes with the other 10%.  Thats when problems occur. 

Lisa and Joe are part of the elite group.  My mother and father in law are in the 10% that just see the normal fun shellie. 

So at the dinner table Chad is asked to say the prayer.  One of the things he says is “We are glad to be with with our family and friends”  Well then I start laughing a little because to me it seemed funny because really we are all just family and not “friends”

So then immediatly after the prayer is over I turn to chad and say

“Honey we are all Family here”

and he says

“Yeah but we are Family that are friends too… you can be more than just one”

and I say

“True…. because not only you are my friend… you are also my lover”  with the “you are also my lover”  in my super deep tranny sexy voice. 

So it was meant to make everyone laugh.  But it was pretty much silent.  and then my father in law says in a very serious voice

“That was to much information”

and EVERY ONE WAS SO FREAKING QUIET!

and no one laughed

and it was so awkward for me.  my face was so red. 

thats what happens when I mix the groups up.  complete train wreck.

Back in 2000 I worked at Sizzler in West Valley Utah on Redwood Road and Scary Street.  It was a great job.  I loved serving all you can eat shrimp, texas toast, and Malibu Chicken to the masses. 

(not the acutal Jesus) (Jesus’s arms were gorilla hairy)

Yes, it is true that while working there, I had a crush on a Hispanic Fry cook name Jesus.  and yes he was hot in a hair net, wonkey eye, sexy sneer, pointy cowboot kinda way.  And it also was true (although I had no idea) that he had a wife and six kids back in Mayheco.  and sadly it is also true that Brooke Bruno and I always had vaccum duty with those lame back pack vacuums.  Those vaccums sucked so bad because you could smell the old hot shrimp dust blowing past your face as you vaccumed.  sick nasty. 

anyway we also had the grand privilege of singing birthday songs to our guests.  Along with a ice cream float with whip cream and cherry, we also gave a balloon.  So one day a family of, oh I don’t know about 15, came in for their grandma’s birthday.  They were in the banquet room and I and another server helped them.  When it was time for the birthday song all us servers went out there and sang our hearts out.  We gave the grandma her treat and then I realized I forgot her balloon. 

So I went back to the service station and began filling the balloon, as I was filling I remembered that in their party was a young girl in a wheelchair and thought she would like one too.  So I got a red balloon for Grandma… Pink Balloon for girl. 

I entered the Banquet room.

“Here’s a balloon for the Birthday Girl!!!” handing grandma her balloon.

and then I turn to the girl in the wheelchair.

“and here’s one for you”  I was trying to hand it to her but I noticed she couldn’t raise her hands to grasp it.  So I went behind her chair.  “I’ll just tie it right here for you okay” 

I tried to tie it on.  but everyone was quiet and staring at me.  It was taking me forever…

“Man! I’m such a retard!”  I say to explain why its taking me so long.  uh oh… did I just say that.  As it was coming out of my lips I could tell I had just said something horrible.  

The girl in the wheelchair starts rocking back and forth

“RETARD! RETARD! RETARD!”  She started screaming.

The whole party just looks at me and stares.  The parents lean over to their daughter and try to calm her down but she’s really vocal now and everyone in the banquet room is staring.  Very quickly the whole party gets their stuff together and leaves.  The grandma shot me the dirtiest look in the world as she walked out the door. The word “Retard” still vibrating off the walls and echoing out in the parking lot as they load her into a van. 

Needless to say I didn’t get a tip.  And now I try to be very careful when I say the word Retard.  I only use it if I’m talking about music. or if I really need to get it out of my system I go into my closet with the light turned off and say it very quietly.