Imitation is NOT a Form of Flattery!

Since this is the place where Ethel and I vent- I have posted before about my mom and my sister. I lament about how my mom continually disappoints me and falls short of the mom I need and how my sister is exactly like her!

My sister is eight years younger than I, and yet she has spent her entire life doing EXACTLY what I do. We are different people with different strengths and she always chose to pursue mine. She participated in the same extracurricular activities in school and outside of school. When I started scrapbooking, she started scrapbooking. I have always loved taking photos and had gotten pretty good at taking them with my little point and shoot. I moved up to a nice camera with manual settings- a Canon Rebel XTi. It is one of the cheaper SLR cameras, but still a great little camera. A few months later, she bought a Nikon D60. When I had my first child, 17 months later, she had her first child. I waited four years to have another child and when I had my second, 19 months later, she had her second child.

I graduated college with a liberal arts degree. I was studying elementary education and have all of my classes for this degree minus the student teaching semester. During my last semester, I had a Reading Methods class where we had lecture one day of the week and observation in a local elementary school the other day of the week. During my observation, I observed that all the kids did was boring worksheets preparing them for the state standardized test. I asked the teacher about it and she said it was in the curriculum- that they must prepare for the test. It was very important- jobs depended on it. I hated this notion and decided I didn't want to teach and graduated at the end of that semester with a liberal arts degree. I never thought I would leave the state. And yet, I married a man in the military and ended up leaving the state- and wish I had certified to teach so I could teach elsewhere. Our first assignment as a married couple was overseas and I got a job substituting at the Department of Defense school overseas. I LOVED it and remember why I wanted to teach. I decided as soon as we were stateside, I would certify and everything would be fine. Our next assignment, was stateside but in a state where the only way I could teach was to go back to school for an entire 4 year program again. I did not have the money for that(expensive state) and got a clerical job at a law firm until we left the state. Unfortunately, we never left the state- we are still here! I told you all of this to tell you that my sister got a degree in something called "Family and Consumer Science". I have no idea what that is, but she said she wanted to be a counselor. So, imagine my surprise when she called to tell me she got an elementary school teaching job!

My mother- aside from being absolutely non-supportive- stalks me on Facebook. She comments and "likes" EVERY. SINGLE. THING. I say, post or do. She even goes on others' pages- friends of mine she is not friends with and comments on their stuff if I have commented on it. She appears to be so supportive on Facebook always posting these happy little remarks and "love ya" all over the place. Which is like a slap in the face to me, because it isn't true. While I have no doubt, I get my creative side from her- she made and decorated awesome cakes while I was growing up, she make my Halloween costumes and she sewed clothing for me. But, I always got the impression that it was not so much about doing something for me, as it was for praise and attention from others for what she had done.

I have always loved to write- since I was a child. I started a blog both as a way to get my thoughts out of my head and for the entertainment of others. I used to type "update emails" to family and friends and include funny little anecdotes about things the kids had done and they kept telling me I should start a blog because they were hilarious. So, I did. And I LOVE having a blog. It is kinda MY thing. I like having my own thing outside of them. I like being different, weird, whatever you want to call it and I like having my own identity. I don't want to be like someone else and resent when I am compared to others. Last year, sometime, I wrote a poem or two on my blog. And with a few weeks, my mother wrote a poem and posted it as a note to her Facebook page. But I still had my blog- my own personal thing that was ME.

Until today- when I logged on to Facebook first thing this morning and was hit in the face with the notice in the newsfeed that my mother has started a blog and written her first post. Imitation is NOT a form of flattery. Not at all. It is so incredibly frustrating to me- had I not been sitting in the middle of my son's soccer game, I would have lost my mind. I wanted to scream and kick things. Instead, I think I muttered, "sonofabitch" under my breath and my husband looked at me with his raised eyebrow. I said, "My mother started a blog." He laughed and said, "Of course she did." Jackass.

So, yeah... my mother started a blog. And she follows MY blog, so there is nowhere I can even vent about this except her... in my (and Ethel's) own little corner of the blogosphere. I try to keep all references between the two blogs separate because I want to keep this one anonymous- I NEED to keep this one anonymous so I can vent. So, I must ask you- if you don't already know our identities and happen to figure it out at any time- please keep it to yourself and don't post on our other blogs, or Facebook pages.

My mother is watching.


~Lucy

Just Because I'm Out of Town

Far, far away, in the land of "big sky" the Mertz family has been enjoying a nice little vacation. A time to get away from their normal routine and pressures of daily life. An adventure meant to excite the senses, see new places, and recharge their internal batteries. But alas, the aggravations and frustrations of things back home still somehow have managed to weasel their way back and disrupt the relaxation. Actually, it was two phone calls about fifteen minutes apart.

First phone call:

My friend's son has been watching our dog for us, and he goes over to check on Maestro three times a day. Since we live in the epicenter of Hell's Half Acre in the summertime, Maestro cannot be left outside for fear of heat stroke or other heat related negatives. So the friend has been faithfully setting his alarm clock and tending to the dog just as we had asked. He has also been advised that Maestro is STRONG and should not be taken on a walk and we generally don't let him play with other dogs.

(Enter my dumbass next door neighbor with her 95lb black lab PUPPY)

Neighbor Boy has been asked by Dumbass if she can bring the lab over to play with Maestro the next time that he goes over to our house. Not only that, but she tells Neighbor Boy that "we let Lab and Maestro play together all the time"...........UMM, NO!!! We hardly ever let the two dogs play together because the Lab is still only a year old, she's ENORMOUS, and she has a tendency to pounce, scratch, and play rough. I don't feel comfortable with the way she plays, knowing that Maestro might not think that her way of playing is actually a fight.

Dumbass DID take her dog over to play, and thankfully both dogs just had a fun little romp in our backyard without incident. This WILL be addressed with Dumbass when we get back home from vacation though. She was out of line to ask our dog sitter to do something that WE don't typically do.

Second phone call: (15 min later)

My father in law has called to ask Fred if he can get into our house through the garage. After Fred confirms that there is access through the garage, his father lets him know that we have DISTANT family in from out of town and he has offered the use of OUR HOUSE overnight.....and then has the BALLS to ask, "Is that okay?"

WHAT THE FUCK!?!

We flew out early in the morning, several days ago. And although we picked the house up and tidied up, we didn't clean as if someone were going to be coming and STAYING in our house WHILE WE WERE GONE!! All of the sheets hadn't been changed, the floors probably need to be mopped, the upstairs (kid's) bathroom was probably not even fit to walk into, and a million other things ran through my head that weren't left "house guest ready". Not to mention, the uneasy feeling of someone staying in MY PERSONAL SPACE, sleeping in our bed, showering in my bathroom, and using my shit without me being there!! I am PISSED!

So anyway, we've had Dumbass push her ill behaving puppy on my dog sitter forh an unapproved doggy play date. Then my gracious father-in-law, being the ever accommodating host, offered our house to extended family and called us as an after-thought just to make sure it was okay.

I'm still angry.

~Ethel~

It's Not Even The Holidays Yet...WTF?!?

Tonight Fred looked at me and said, "I want to move to a remote cabin surrounded by lots of trees, and it needs to be a place where our families will never find us". I could not agree more!

There is a birthday family celebration coming up on Fred's side of the family. A noteworthy celebration, of course, but not one that I would make me think, "Hey self, you should get in there and make some crazy plans for this!" Which is precisely WHY I've been tending to my own shit laying low. Well, at least I was trying to lay low until the standard "Mertz Delegation of Duties" got fully underway...and this is how it went down.

Lorraine (Fred's grandmonster) called George (Fred's father) and said, "Have you decided what we're [you're] going to do for Poindexter's birthday this year? We [you] need to do something nice - he does alot for the family, you know."

George responded, "Well, I haven't really given it much thought, but maybe Fred and Ethel would be able to throw something together for the occasion. I'll call Ethel and see what she can get done."

So my question is this: HOW THE FUCK DID THIS BECOME MY PROBLEM?!? And how do I go about messing this event up so exponentially that I don't get asked to pull awesome-daughter-in-law duty again for a long, long, LONG time?  George is a huge pain in my ass.

Moving on.

The holiday season hasn't even officially begun, and already I feel like January can't get here fast enough!  Will someone please pass the vodka, and make it SNAPPY!?

Gripe #1 - One of my siblings made flight arrangements without checking with anyone first, and will be here (in town) for TWO FULL WEEKS. She's great. She's awesome. BUT she's also going to want to get out and do things, and I have to WORK!!!

Gripe #2 - We will celebrate Thanksgiving TWICE this year. This is as a result of the fact that one of my other sibs has a nut-muncher of a significant other, and my sib wants to do Thanksgiving with normal people our side of the family BEFORE going to spend the actual holiday with the nut-muncher's family. Not a HUGE issue, but according to Marie Claire's bitch of a columnist, Maura Kelly, I am well on my way to making her feel sick when she looks at the likes of me after stuffing my gullet not just once, but twice, on traditional Thanksgiving fare. FUCK HER!

Gripe #3 - Christmas is going to be at my house this year. BOTH sides of the insane asylum family are invited, and it's a safe bet that Josephine (the grandmonster) will be her naturally bitchy, rude self. Oh, how I am looking forward to hearing her snide comments.

Gripe #4 - Fred and I had wanted to just go someplace ELSE for the holidays this year and leave all of the other degenerates behind, but we made the mistake of telling a couple of other family members....and VIOLA! It became a trip to hell with all of the weirdo knuckle-draggers in tow.  Needless to say, we decided to cancel that nightmare and not pass "GO" or collect $200.  Somethings just aren't worth it, ya know?

So that's where we stand. I haven't gone completely nuts, but I am on my second bottle of wine tonight. Fred put a trashcan by the bed and I wrote out checks for the kids to buy their lunches tomorrow instead of having to make them while being super hung over and all.

Please tell me that I'm not the only one with holiday drama brewing on the horizon?!

~Ethel~

Won't My Mommy Be So Proud of Me?

About thirty seconds after Mama Kat emailed out this week's writing prompts, my cell started ringing. Ethel was calling me to tell me to check my email and pay specific regard to prompt #3- Why I'm not inviting my mother to read my blog. We laughed.. hysterically.

You see... this prompt has our names written all over it! For crying out loud, we started a whole anonymous blog so our mothers wouldn't read it! But the question seems a bit more specific- so the reasons I, Lucy, am not inviting my mother (or any other family member for that matter) to read this blog:

My sister is bat-shit crazy. Not in the I-like-to-say-my-slightly-quirky-family-member-that-does-quirky-annoying-things-is-crazy sort of way, but in the I'm-pretty-sure-if-she-would-drag-her-crazy-ass-into-a-professional's-office-she's-be-certifiable crazy. And you just can't have that kind of front row seat to crazy and not share some of the stories.

Because my sister-in-law and my sister should be twins- despite there being a twenty-eight year difference in their ages, they act identical. Add to that the fact that my in-laws absolutely loathe me.. and that's material too! Double my blessings in the crazy department. Who's a lucky girl? I AM!

Then there is the fact that my mother is a bit nutsy too! She holds a grudge- and carries out her revenge with the conviction and maturity of a pre-teen girl. Either I am the only sane one or I am just as delusional as the rest of them. Either way- win for you, the reader!

There are so many more reasons that will just have to unfold within the confines and secrecy of this blog, but I have to leave some space for Ethel to tell us why she doesn't want her mother to read this blog.
~Lucy


The reason why I, Ethel, will not EVER be inviting my mother to read this blog is because:

1. I would like for my mother to continue wearing her rose colored glasses. She's a good person who loves others and tries to see the best in them, above all else. I fall short on this order and tend to see things in a more literal, sometimes a tad cynical, light.
2. Family relationships and friendships, where honesty IS NOT the best policy, would probably never recover.
3. Mother wouldn't handle it well if I told her that her sister is a narcissistic narrow minded ballbuster who only sees the world one way - HER WAY.  After the last few times that we've been in close company with she and her offspring, it's safe to state that I will ONLY spend time with that branch of the Truman family again if there is an absolute emergency, a family crisis, or I have a planned escape route.  It's just not worth it anymore.
4. My mother is sympathetic, to a fault, regarding my loser sister, Samantha.  Sam lives her life like an aimless adult child.  It goes without saying that she has children of her own, doesn't work at all, floats from man to man, has a substance abuse problem, and STILL manages to prey on my mother's sympathy.  WTF?!?  This is where I proudly wear my snobby-unfeeling-judgemental-bitch-of-a-sister name tag.  

Some things are better left alone and unacknowledged by certain eyes.
~Ethel

So, there you have it, folks- the very reasons we started this blog and proof to you, the reader, that we have loads of material to keep this blog going for quite some time....or eternity, which ever comes first.  And we would also like to take this opportunity to tell you that if your Mom does read your blog, but you have something you need to post about that you fear might not be Mom-approved, feel free to shoot us an email and you can guest post for us.  If you are brave, we can identify you and link to your blog, or if you truly need an anonymous platform for your rant, we will keep your identity totally under wraps.

We love to dish the dirt, but we can also keep a secret.

~Lucy and Ethel

Thanksgiving Throw Down

In the not-so-distant past, we were pleased to celebrate Thanksgiving with the outlaws at our house. Everyone from far and near had descended on the Mertz household to roast the turkey, make delicious pies, savory casseroles and watch some football. The morning had started out wonderfully, everyone was chatting, snacking, putting puzzles together, enjoying the time together....the way that holidays are supposed to be spent.

Customarily, in the extended Mertz family, anyone coming to share the day will bring a dish, beverages, snacks or SOMETHING to contribute and share with the crowd. It helps ease the pressure off of the hostess, and honestly, that's just that's just good manners folks! At this particular point in time, Fred and I had just recently relocated and were in the process of settling, so I even asked for a couple of the ladies to bring some extra serving bowls, serving utensils, etc. Not a big deal. So here were are.... Chaos and craziness in the kitchen as the women are preparing the meal. And there's the boisterous hootin' and hollerin' by the guys in the family room over calls that the refs are making.

As the morning progressed and assembly started begin, Fred's grandmother Josephine, came into the kitchen and stood watch to see all that was going on. She kindly asked if she could help do anything, and of course (being the gracious hostess), I told her that everything was under control, but would let her know if anything changed. So she continued to stand, watch, and chit chat. Now keep in mind that Josephine is KNOWN for not having a filter on what she says, and can be quite a thorn in my side bitter pill to swallow contrary at times.

After what seemed like only a few minutes had passed, the mashed potatoes were finally ready to be put in a serving dish, so I asked Sarah (my mother in law) if she could grab the serving bowl that she had brought with her.  It was at this particular moment that Josephine turned her withered, irritable head to me and said, "What would you do if we hadn't all brought dishes and things for you to use today?"

To which I replied, "We wouldn't be having Thanksgiving at my house".

Once the words were out of my mouth, I was positive that we were going to have a grudge match right there in my kitchen....just sure of it! The other ladies standing in close proximity could be seen with eyes wide open, holding their breath. It's no secret that I have a low bull shit threshold when it comes to people making rude comments directed at me.  And I DO get that sometimes things just "need to be said".  But if you're going to let it all hang out and go balls to the wall trying to make ME look inferior in my own damn kitchen, you better brace yourself and expect that your TART comment will get a firm reply.

Mama Kat's Writers Workshop

Prompt#5 - Describe an awkward conversation you had with someone recently.

~Ethel~

Lucy's Introduction

Hi, I'm Lucy (not my real name) and you've already met my friend, Ethel.  Ethel and I have been friends for a very long time.  We were best friends growing up and spent many nights giggling and gossiping.  When Ethel had to move away, we corresponded through letters and occasional visits, but have kept up the relationship all these years.  We both have a love of writing, sarcasm and seeing the humorous side of motherhood.  We both also have blogs where we blog about our families and children.

The problem with having a blog followed by your friends and family, is that sometimes you have to censor yourself and some topics are completely off-limits.  Like the fact that my sister got a boob job just for attention; and instead of getting a comfortable, normal size, she got Pamela Andersonesque juggs that make her tiny, bony self look like she might fall forward at any moment.  Then proceeded to post pictures of herself on a social networking sight in a low-cut top and wondered why people kept inquiring about her new rack.   There is also the fact that despite being almost 30 years old, she can't seem to function without someone holding her hand.  She has a husband and two children, but still needs others to do simple things for her.  It is a source of both frustration and amusement for me.  She once called my mom who was living in another state seven hundred miles away to tell her she was walking around our local hometown grocery store and couldn't figure out where the marshmallows were.  Seriously.  Instead of just finding a store employee or asking someone walking down the aisle, she called my mother in another state to ask her where these items were.  I can't make this shit up.

So yeah, welcome to my life.  I'm Lucy.  I'm a thirty-something wife and mom of two children.  My husband is Ricky and my children are Ramona and Geezer.  Ramona is preschool aged and mischievous, Geezer is in elementary school but acts like a crotchety little old man.

This is my life.  Stay tuned for my dirty laundry.

~Lucy

Are they REALLY your books?

I love reading, and tend to be a snob about the condition that I like my books to be in. Should I get a paperback and lend it to you, it damn well better not come back with the spine cracked, crunchy from being dropped in the bathtub, or have a sweat ring on the cover where you left your glass of ice water instead of using a coaster.  If it's a book that I know will be on my shelves forever I will usually buy it in hardback.  And if the book in question is part of a set, I will buy the whole set at the same time so that they are all the same size and the covers coordinate. A couple of years ago when there was this explosion of interest about the "Twilight" series, I was a little slow to get on board with the hype.  Who would want to read books about a romantic love triangle between a human, a werewolf, and a vampire?  But as time passed, I began to watch some of my friends slip into this bizarre land of not feeding their children dinner, talking in terms like "sparkly vampires" and "The Volturi", and fawning over dudes named Jacob and Edward.  They were so consumed by reading these books that it was almost comical!  After continually hearing about how amazing the books were, I finally got the hunger for a taste of all things Cullen and found a boxed set of HARDBACKS...bliss! I poured through the books.   They were wonderful.   I am "Team Jacob".   Edward is emo. CHRISTMAS 2007.  We had finished eating dinner, and some of the women folk were sitting around talking about great books that we had enjoyed reading.  The Twilight series came up, and Fred's aunt Lorraine mentioned that she would like to borrow my set.  (AS IF?!)  I gave her the nod action (like a good niece) and made a mental note to hide them as soon as we got home so that she didn't happened to spy them the next time she came to visit.  Of course she DIDN'T forget, and I ended up giving some lame excuse (that she totally bought) and only lent her New Moon instead of all four. Months passed and I was beginning to get a little antsy that Lorraine hadn't returned my book, so I decided to ask her about it.  When I mentioned that I would like to grab the book the next time we saw eachother, she said, "Well, I have my copy of New Moon that you are more than welcome to borrow, but I already returned yours to you."  Whaaaaat?  We went back and forth, in a friendly way, about how I didn't remember ever getting my copy back...how mine was a hardback too....it was part of a SET....I was only missing the one Twilight book that she (coincidentally) HAD on her bookshelf.  But it just fell flat.  And I was soooo PISSED.  Aunt Lorraine was officially not getting anything but dog shit for Christmas as long as I am alive.  PERIOD. MORE time passed, and finally around Easter of this year I decided - Hey, if she borrowed the book from me, I will borrow my shit right back!  Right?  So I sent her a text. Me:  Hey there!  When Poindexter (her husband) goes over to Archie's dad's house, would you mind sending your copy of New Moon with him?  I am starting to read the series again. Lorraine:  Sure Me:  Thanks!  I really appreciate you letting me borrow it from you. Lorraine:  It's your copy, I'm just returning it. WTF?!?  I just about shit a brick when I read her text.  She had sat there, looked me in the eye, and emphatically argued with me that she had purchased a copy of New Moon, and had already returned my copy back to me.  She had even argued the point so well that I was beginning to believe that maybe she HAD returned the book and I had just misplaced it. Idiot.  Next time Lorraine needs to call a board meeting with all of the other voices in her head and figure out what her story/angle is.  Or here's an even better idea.....GET A LIBRARY CARD!! ~Ethel~