blog hop

*Gasp* Paparazzi Are At My Door!

Welcome to the Secret Subject Swapiversary (Happy 1 Year!) hosted by the amazing Karen over at Baking in a Tornado! You’re in for a treat because this is also a Blog Hop, and Best Swap Post Contest! WOW! This week,12 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.

My secret subject was submitted by Jennifer of Outsmarted Mommy. If you haven’t visited her blog before, do yourself a favor! She’s hilarious!

My subject swap: you wake up on an ordinary day. When you leave the house you see people following you with cameras everywhere you go. You slowly figure out you are famous but don’t know why. How does the rest of your day unfold? Why are you famous? My response is just under the list of links below.

Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts. Sit back, grab a cup, and have fun reading! Please come back to any of the swap posts tonight after 8:00PM Eastern time (through Sunday) to vote for your favorite Swap post and join in The Blog Strut linky party!

Baking in a Tornado
The Momisodes
Just A Little Nutty
Moore Organized Mayhem
Crazy As Normal
Searching For Sanity
Home On Deranged
Dawn’s Disaster
The Insomniac’s Dream
Outsmarted Mommy
Black Sheep Mom
Writer B is Me

It’s 5:18AM. Far too early for life to begin. I squirm into my sports bra and wrestle workout clothes onto my tired body. With one eye open, I shuffle down the hall into the kitchen, mix and force down my protein-powder-water breakfast, and feed the dog. I grab water, keys and phone and exit quietly.

BLAM! A light flashes right in my face. I instinctively flinch, cover my face with my hands. BLAM! POW! More flashes. My water bottle hits the ground. I fumble for the doorknob and rush back inside.

What. The. Hell?!

I peak out the narrow side window. There are SUV’s parked down both sides of my block. As my eyes adjust, I can see figures in my yard, on my sidewalk, on the street. All with cameras.

Did something happen? Was there a crime? What were photographers doing in my yard? Maternal instinct sets in. With no regard for my own safety, I walk right back outside to find out what the hell was going on.

BLAM! POW! “Beth, can we get a few words!” a camera man says holding a microphone in my face. FLASH! “Beth, over here for E News!” SNAP! POP!

ohmygodohmygodohmygod  A sick pit swells in my stomach as realization sinks in.

 They’re here for me. And I know why.

I can’t allow my family to find out this way. I have to get out of here! I put my arm in front of my face and make a dash for my car. They follow me like a swarm of bees. I elbow my way into the driver’s seat, and with shaky hands, turn the ignition. I drive, parting them like a herd of buffalo, and make my way down the street. Headlights shine in my rearview mirror; they’re following me!

I floor it and haul around the corner, flying through alleys and side streets in the dark. Finally satisfied I’ve lost them, I whip into a stranger’s back driveway. Good thing I still have my cell. I need to make a few calls. There’s only one reason I would go from regular, everyday housewife to front page news…….

Sex tape.

I’ll be honest, part of me always thought this day might come. I mean, who’s stupid enough to video hot romps with an up-and-coming musician? Apparently I was, but that was a-g-e-s ago. We were young and in love, and it was before he was a “celebrity”. Before I married someone else and had a family. How did it get out? Who leaked it? Surely not HIM! No way he’d want the world to know he’d ever been with a regular woman, a NON-LINGERIE-MODEL! *gasp*

I close my eyes and nod. This is really happening. My face is splashed all over the tabloids by now – my whole life is changed forever. My entire family’s lives. MTV will want to interview me. TMZ will stalk me for months, maybe even years. I’ll be a household name!

I dial the phone. I know who I have to warn first.

“Mom? Yeah, I know it’s early. Yes, everyone’s fine. Hey, you know that Kardashian reality show? Well, get ready, ’cause that’s about to be our life, but less Armenian cat fights, more Irish sarcasm. ANYway, want me to bring the corn at Thanksgiving? Hello?”

“Mom?”

Secret Subject Swap This has been a Secret Subject Swap post! Don’t forget to check out the other fantastic links, and be sure to swing back by any of our blogs Thursday night after 8:00PM Eastern (through Sunday)  to vote for your favorite Swap post and join in The Blog Strut linky party! Woo Hoo! Thank you, Karen! You Rock!

Fly’s In The Buttermilk, Do Not Shoo! Fly On The Wall!

WELCOME to a Fly on the Wall group post! Today 14 bloggers are inviting you to catch a glimpse of what you’d see if you were a fly on the wall in our homes.

Fly on the Wall

Come on in and buzz around my house (SCROLL DOWN), see what you think, then click on these links for a peek into some other homes:

Baking In A Tornado
Just a Little Nutty
Follow me home . . .
Stacy Sews and Schools
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
Menopausal Mother
Moore Organized Mayhem
The Insomniac’s Dream
The Momisodes
Spatulas on Parade
Searching for Sanity
The Rowdy Baker
Writer B is Me
Sorry kid, Your Mom Doesn’t Play Well With Others

*A FLY ON THE WALL – TELIHO STYLE*

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The actual conversation (if it indeed qualifies as such) that occurred this morning on the way to school. Myself and my two boys. To makes things easier (and protect the obnoxious), I’ll use their nicknames, D-man (9yo) and Cheesy (6yo):

D-Man: I HATE school. I can’t believe I have to go back to that awful place. I HATE third grade.

ME: I know it’s tough, buddy, but you can do it. Just hang in there. Things will seem bet–

D-Man: –I talked to this older kid and he said he hated third grade the most. He said it sucked out of all the grades.

ME: What older kid?

Cheesy: Do rabbits have penises?

ME: What? Wait, D, what older kid did you talk to? How old?

D-Man: Thirteen.

ME: Where on Earth are you talking to thirteen year olds?

Cheesy: MOM! Do rabbits have penises?

D-man:  On Xbox. Hey, did I tell you my dream about the robot?

ME: Yes!

D-man: I already told you about my dream?

ME: No. Rabbits have penises.

Cheesy: And balls? *lots of giggles from the back seat*

ME: *sigh* Yes, if they are boys.

D-Man: So this giant robot made of Minecraft brick comes crashing out of the ocean….

Cheesy: Does Milo have balls? (our dog)

ME: Well, uh, he did. I mean, yeah. But he’s neutered. *immediate regret* rewind rewind rewind

D-Man: ….and then he twirls this snowman monster thing over his head….

Cheesy: He’s noonered! What does THAT mean?!

ME: It’s an operation dogs have so they can’t make puppies. please Lord get me out of this

D-Man: …..smashes this grey pile of ash that sprays up and blows the robot’s head off……

Cheesy: I thought only girls made babies?

ME: Cheesy, I can’t do the birds and the bees right now. Let’s tal—

Cheesy: BEES HAVE PENISES TOO?!?!

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I’m home alone about 10AM. Kids are in school. Hubs calls.

ME: Yes? How may I help you?

HIM: Whatareyoudoing?

ME: On the computer. Whatareyoudoing?

HIM: I called to give you a couple reminders.

ME: Great. You know how much I like that.

HIM: I thought you might. I need you to be sure and take the ipad mini back today and see if they can replace it. The boys can’t be playing on it with that crack in the screen.

ME: Uh-huh.

HIM: And it would be great if you returned that hat to the party store before someone ruins it.

ME: Yep. That would be great.

HIM: And while you’re out, you should take your car to that place I told you about and get the oil changed because they’ll also wash it for you and your car is disgusting.

ME: My car is fine.

HIM: Your car is awful, Beth. Are you going to do any of those things?

ME: I will only commit to putting them on my list.

HIM: Your list.

ME: Yup.

HIM: And you’re going to put oil change on your list?

ME: Probably not.

HIM: Why? I don’t understand what the problem is…

ME: You know I hate going to the oil change place. I designated that a man job long ago.

HIM:

ME: I find it very sexy when you do man jobs.

HIM: Reeeealllly. Well, now we’re talkin’. (I can actually hear him smiling)

ME: *eye roll* it’s so damn easy

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It’s past bedtime. The 6yo comes downstairs with what appears to be glitter and a piece of paper and approaches me at the couch. I’m limp with fatigue,  and no longer care if anyone is in jammies or has brushed their teeth. I have deferred to daddy and am attempting to escape reality by engrossing myself in Twitter and Facebook a book on orbital mechanics. Yet here is a child in my face with craft supplies.

6yo: Mommy. Mommy. You know that thing where you put glitter on the paper and shake it off and it makes dots?

ME: Uh-huh.

6yo: Can we do that?

ME: Absolutely not.

6yo: Whhhhhhyyyyyyyyyy?????

ME: What do you mean why? You’re supposed to be in bed, young man. It’s late. And we don’t even have glue.

6yo: Yes we do. *disappears around corner*

He’s out of sight, therefore, officially out of my mind. This is a bad thing, because approximately 11 minutes later, Dad calls from upstairs wondering where the 6yo is. It’s about this time that I realize glitter boy is sweeping the kitchen.

You’re smart people. You know my child spilled glitter everywhere. But what I need to explain to you is this was not ordinary glitter. This was *special* fine-as-powder-fairy-dust glitter that I bought for a specific teacher craft last year, WHICH IS WHY IT WAS HIDDEN UPSTAIRS IN MY OFFICE WHERE HE GOT IT, THE LITTLE BURGLAR. You can’t even tell any is missing from the vial, yet it is every-fricken-where. No, really. You don’t understand. I can’t envision a scenario where this glitter will not be a part of our house for the rest of our lives.

But, let me tell you something. His glitter picture? AWESOME.