Meet Tranderson!

This time of year, my naughty, NSFW elf comes out to play. His name is Tranderson Cooper, and the word ‘boundaries’ isn’t even in his vocabulary.

Just marking his territory…

He usually only shows up on his personal Facebook page (It can get pretty crazy in there, so it’s a closed group. Just send a request if you hate to waste a dirty mind.), but this year he’s expanding his horizons by being added to my blog! I’m gonna call it Trandy Tuesday, and it starts NOW!

Without further ado, the first Tranderson photo of 2016!!!


Tranderson definitely enjoys a nice backdoor!

If you wanna see more of this little degenerate, subscribe to my blog!



Free-Range Mom

Within the next year, Sparky and I will have our house all to ourselves and people keep saying that I’ll be an ’empty nester’ soon. I just don’t like that term. It makes it sound like I shoved them out of my house and never saw them again, you know, like birds do. Well, I’m not like that. I still feel the need to ‘mom’ them from time to time, so I’ve decided that empty nester doesn’t really fit me at all. I’ve decided I’m more of a Free-Range Mom.

I read this article a while back about parents that let their kids go wherever they want and do whatever they want pretty much whenever they want, and they call them free-range kids. I think that’s kind of what it’s like when the kids move out. You’re still a mom; you just aren’t obligated to be at their beck and call anymore. You can decide when you wanna mom and when you don’t: Free-Range Mom!

Besides, empty nester just sounds like it’s loaded with responsibility, and I try to avoid anything associated with that word!

I’m Bad At Adulting

When I was a kid, I thought I would automatically know when I was a bonafide grown-up.

I also thought my insides were made of cogs and wheels, but that’s a different post for a different day. Back to the adult thing…

Chronologically, I’m considered an adult, but I’m still waiting for that magical moment when I feel like a grown up. I hope by the time that ah-ha moment hits, I’ll be better at this adulting gig. For now, I’m just going to own my shit and tell you ten reasons I’m bad at adulting. Here we go.

I digress regularly. It can take me ten minutes to tell a two-minute story. Occasionally I digress from a digression. I’ve been known to stray so far that I can’t even remember what I was talking about in the first place.

I’m horrible at mailing things because I hate the post office. I have to leave my house, and I have to talk to people while there. Two things I seriously don’t like doing. I also never check my mail. If it’s important, they’ll call, right?

I do, however, screen my calls. I also don’t ever call anyone. I never had a phone phobia when I was younger, but sometime over the course of my life, I’ve developed an unnatural anxiety about talking to people on the phone. I’m not sure when it happened because my younger self couldn’t get enough phone time. My mother can verify this.

I never answer my door. Even when the UPS man leaves a package, I wait for him to leave before I open the door to retrieve the package. I just don’t want to have to deal with the stranger on the other side. I don’t know what their agenda is. They could be a serial murderer looking for their next victim. It could be someone looking for a sex slave to keep in their basement. There’s a possibility I watch too much Investigation Discovery.

I’m okay at reading them; I just don’t always remember to respond. I don’t do this on purpose, and it isn’t personal. Sometimes I’m busy and can’t answer right then. Sometimes I may need some time to decide what answer I want to give. Almost every time, I forget to reply. And when I do reply, I often forget to hit send.

Sparky always takes care of this for me, so I got out of the habit of looking at it. This lack of adulting recently led to a panicked situation where my car informed me I could only go a maximum of 36 miles on the remaining gas. Sparky had told me the night before that he was sorry, but he didn’t have time to put gas in my car, and I was going to have to do it in the morning before I took Zane to Bellevue. Did I remember this? Nope! Because I suck at being an adult.

I would be content to live out of a laundry basket until the end of time. I’m not even ashamed or sorry about this. It’s pure laziness, and I’m owning it. I also don’t wash my laundry until it’s absolutely necessary. I take care of Sparky’s, which is sort of adulty of me, but I screw myself over regularly in the clean clothing department.

Those damn things are huge. They also stink and taste awful. Children’s gummy vitamins are more my thing. I prefer Frozen gummy multivitamins and Li’l Critters D3 gummy vitamins. It’s like eating candy every morning. Why can’t grown-up vitamins be this yummy?

For example, I put off decorating for Thanksgiving for so long, it never happened. The box of decorations just sat in the corner mocking me. You would think it would motivate me to do better with the Christmas decorations, but you would be wrong. I never finished putting all of them out. I did undecorate in a decent timeframe, but the naked trees are still standing all around the house. I’m not quite done procrastinating the trees yet.

The only birthdays I remember on time are those of my kids and husband. I know several people’s birthdays, but I never remember them on time. And I don’t know ANY phone numbers. Not even my kid’s numbers. When I was in high school, I knew EVERYONE’S phone number, but I’ve never been good at dates. I don’t think I’ll ever remember them. Not even if I achieve ‘Feeling Like An Adult’ status.

And now you know ten reasons I’m bad at adulting!

And just for good measure, I bought this book on one of my Value Village adventures just to make sure I maintain a proper immaturity level.



Weekly Random Banner

  • I found this gem while reading It’s creepy and amazing all at once.
  • No matter what political party you support, this video and this other video are a must watch. Thank you, Bad Lip Reading!
  • I like Top Gear and Friends, but I don’t know how I feel about this.
  • If you fly, ever, this enlightening Instagram account will make you want one of these. I’ll be buying a pink one before my next flight. This was also compliments of The Bloggess. She’s pretty awesome.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Today is my mom’s birthday, so I’m going to take this opportunity to share a story from my days in elementary school that I don’t think I’ve ever told my mom. It had a tremendous impact on me and still does.

I was adopted as an infant. I don’t ever remember not knowing I was adopted. I never thought anything about it until it was brought up during a lunchtime recess in fifth grade.

Some of the kids were teasing me about being adopted and telling me my mother had to adopt me because no one else wanted me. I was in tears. My teacher, Mrs. Sloan, saw me and asked what the matter was. I told her all about it and was hoping for swift justice. I didn’t get the response I expected. She said I was crying for nothing because I was looking at it all wrong. She said I should remember that I was definitely wanted because my mom didn’t have to adopt me; she chose to. Those words gave me a whole new appreciation for my mom and so thankful she chose me.

Happy birthday, Mom!
I love you a bushel and a peck!

Mom was a pretty cute kid!


Summerween On The S.L.U.T.

This past summer, a group of friends and I embarked on a little adventure called Summerween On The S.L.U.T. Summerween is basically Halloween during the summer, costumes and all. The S.L.U.T. is the unfortunate acronym for The South Lake Union Trolly in Seattle. Combine the two and add in several bars, and you’ve got a pub crawl that no one is going to outweird you on!


Saturday Night Daily Prompt by The Daily Post


It’s Good To Be Queen

Sparky took me on a date tonight to congratulate me for internetting my ass off and setting this blog up. I’m technologically challenged, so the fact that I did it without having to call Zane-who has skills in this area-stuns the hell out of me. Thank goodness for YouTube!

This is my accomplishment for the day. Seriously. It took me a long time to make this thing. Partly because of my lack of skill and partly because I’m really indecisive.

We went to my absolute fave restaurant for steak. Their rosemary fries are so yummy they make me want to cry. The rub they put on their steaks, along with the flavoured butter, is beyond compare. And the decor is definitely interesting. There’s taxidermy all over the place, and I see something new every single time. I think they make interesting dining companions, but I can see how it might make some people wonder where their steak came from.

They just hang out and watch you eat

And on the queen part, I’m wearing a tiara in my drivers license picture so in my opinion, that means Washington recognizes me as Queen. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

I love my DMV