Christmas Shoes

6th day of Christmas:

I was forced to listen to that horrible Christmas Shoes song 30 times today and I even had to watch the movie.

THERE'S A MOVIE!!!!!!

I did not know that.

Offspring #6 wants to buy me some shoes. Should I be scared? Is he suggesting that I am going to meet Jesus tonight just like that horrible, horrible song? Who writes a song like this for Christmas? Merry Christmas. Someone's mother is dying and buying shoes for her corpse. Mmmmmm! I want some egg nog with that! Why is the little boy shopping alone? Why is the store keeper not asking, "Hey little boy, where the h_ _ _ are your parents? I'm calling CPS."

And have I mentioned that I haven't slept in like three days because of Offspring #13?

Do you think if I wrote a Christmas song about my coma and dismemberment of my legs, it would be a hit? Maybe I'm onto something ......

Two Special Gifts

Two "gifts" I got for Christmas:

This shirt from my mother (the worst mother in the world)

My not so darling husband came back because he "missed" me (couldn't get a single date and wanted to see his latest offspring). Offspring #5 told him I had been crying a lot (presumably over him) and she told me we were going to watch the best of the Teletubbies all day together in my room for our 5th day of Christmas togther. In walks my husband. Offspring #5 smiled and ran away.

I'm currently undecided on which is worse - watching 10 straight hours of Teletubbies or the fact that my stretch mark counting serial impregnator is back.

The Fourth Day of Christmas

Typing one-handed:

Offspring #4
Me
Steep hill
Innertube
Barbed wire fence
Moguls
One day postpartum
No legs

A recipe for pure joy.

The Thirteen Days of Christmas

Special time didn't work out as planned for Offspring #3. The stomach pain, the cramping was so horrible and I was sure someone had drugged me with Imodium again somehow. We were supposed to go to the zoo together (sounds innocent, but my offspring know how to turn anything into a nightmare), but I spent hours in the bathroom with him pounding on the door screaming, "MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!! IT'S MY TURN!!!!! WHEN ARE WE GOING TO THE ZOO?!!!! WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN!!!!!!!! MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!! YOU PROMISED!!! I WANT TO SEE THE HOWLER MONKEYS!!!! HURRY MOM!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

Times that by five hours. I begged my mother (the worst mother in the world) to drive me back to the hospital, but she didn't believe me. I sat on the toilet cramping horribly. Ohhhhhh, the cramping. I thought my last bout with constipation was horrible, but this was 10 times worse! I cried and strained, threw-up, cried some more, strained for probably a couple hours to have a bowel movement, but the only thing that moved was ........












MORE OFFSPRING!!!!!!!!!



OOOOOOOOOOOHHHH MYYYYYYYYYYYYYY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!!!!

A little memento from my not so darling husband to remember him by. I should've guessed with my mother (the worst mother in the world) telling me how fat I am much more often than usual. I haven't even named the other 12 yet! It's too hard. Offspring #5 says the baby has my legs. Hardy har har. Maybe this one will like me a little.

Offspring #2

I am still freezing from my outing with Offspring #2. He wanted to do something to raise money to buy me new legs. That sounded sweet until I realized he rented a dunk tank. I doubt I have to explain who the designated dunkee was.

What kind of sick person pays to dunk a woman with no legs? I'm accustomed to my offspring doing horrible things to me, but this caught me a little off guard. Thank goodness most of the would be dunkers had really bad aim. I think I went under maybe 50 times. It could've been much worse. But we made a lot of money because some people wanted lots of chances. 3% of the proceeds are going to my new leg charity. The rest is going to Offspring #2's video game fund.

It's really touching. I know.

My Big Surprise

I'm not home even 5 minutes before three of my offspring pinned me to the floor and cut my hair off. They beamed proudly, "We wanted to celebrate the true meaning of Christmas by donating your hair to Locks of Love."

How generous and caring of them. It looks like a rat ate my hair off.

So let's do a recap here:

I have no legs, hands with waffle iron burn scars, and no hair. And to cover my hideous head, offspring #4 gave me one of those ugly hats with the neckflap. I feel like I'm all set to start dating as soon as the divorce is final. Does anyone have an attractive picture I could use for Internet dating? My mother (the worst mother in the world) is threatening to put a paper bag over my head like she did when I was born.

As I mentioned, my offspring are doing "The Twelve Days of Christmas" and I am required to spend special time with each of them, starting with #1. He took me ice skating. I got to sit there and watch. Someone brought their dog and it kept sniffing me where I would rather not be sniffed. My first instinct was to kick it and tell it to go away, but the missing legs thing interfered with that plan. So I tried to smack it and he tore my sleeve to shreds. Then he resumed his violating sniffing. Guess who it belonged to? My dumb nurse Tanya! She didn't seem to understand why the sniffing bothered me so much. She thought he was oh so hilarious and friendly.

Offspring #1 offered me a hug. I thought for once I was about to receive a genuine loving gesture, but it was just the easiest way for him to shove snow down the back of my shirt. He then bought me a hot dog, asked me what toppings I wanted (deli mustard and some onion), then he threw it and told me to go fetch. >:( Tanya's dumb dog ate it but at least he stopped sniffing my crotch momentarily. It was the most relaxing 30 seconds I had all day.

Special time is about to start with Offspring #2. I hope it doesn't involve eating because my stomachache is getting worse. No one believes me because of my fake melanoma Sharpie stunt.

I Hate Tomorrow

I'm running out of tricks and I think my doctors have caught on. I tried drinking some more rancid egg nog my mother (the worst mother in the world) brought me. I vomited into one of those pointless kidney shaped vomit catchers (whatever they're called) that only hold enough vomit for Barbie and maybe a few of her friends (I wish I had friends).

I'm being sent home tomorrow.

Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I hate you, tomorrow! You're only a day away! And I've run out of fake illnesses and must go home to my family so they can try to kill me some more!

I do actually have a bad stomach ache that keeps coming and going, but no one believes me. I have a few more things to add to my Christmas list.

New legs

Shorts (no point wearing long pants with no legs)

Legs (which would create a necessity for pants)

Pants (only if I get the legs)

Mommy Dearest on DVD

Any edible foods (by edible, I mean you can actually chew it, swallow it, and keep it down)

A pill case with a lock on it

Gloves (to cover my unsightly waffle iron burns)

Pepto Bismol

Anything that will distract my 12 offspring from wanting to hurt me for fun

That's all I can think of for now. I have to attempt sleep now. It takes a couple hours to make that happen while my roommate is screaming non-stop. I'm told there is a big surprise waiting for me at home. That can't be good. If I could just contract a serious illness by tomorrow morning ......

My Playlist

Listed below are songs that make me cry. They make me cry for different reasons - some of them are just sad, others spark jealousy (like In the Backseat. It's about her mother dying.), others purely suck and draw tears from my eyes, another is so long I can't help but cry. But the song Mother, I feel that guy's pain. I feel like we identify with each other and I just want to meet him so we can hold each other and weep bitterly. I think there is a good chance we would actually fall in love and utilize caller ID, screening both our mothers' (the worst mothers in the world) phone calls as we feed each other chocolate covered strawberries and sip delicious sparkling beverages. I bet he would even bring me some non-dead flowers once in a while.

Will I ever find true love? Could a man so wonderful accept this legless woman with the waffle iron prints burned into her hands? Is there such a person who could take on my 12 offspring?

Dear Santa,

All I want for Christmas is the man of my dreams. Someone who won't impregnate me as many times as humanly possible. Someone who doesn't change jobs 30 times a year. Someone who can afford to move far far away and give me better vacations than my coma. Someone whose favorite passtime isn't counting my stretch marks. I would even settle on someone who can afford Caller ID.

I don't need jewelry. I don't need a big screen TV. Or a Tivo. I just want to be loved.

Sincerely,
Sarah Bird-Butts

The Dreaded Christmas Newsletter

Here it is. My mother (the worst mother in the world) could hardly wait to send out her Christmas newsletter (complete with my Will Smith-like allergic reaction face).

The Bird Family 2008 Christmas Newsletter

Dearest loved ones,


2008 has been another blessed year for me and my family. Of course, it hasn't been without its struggles, but the love we have for each other pulls us through. As I write this, my daughter Sarah sits in a hospital bed having lost her legs, but I have been by her side, bringing her the comforts of home and gifts to warm her spirits (like legwarmers and inedible turkey!). The children and I have such great plans for when she returns. It gives us such joy to see to her every need, administering her medication (the wrong medication!), giving her something to smile about, yet helping her maintain her independence (meaning leaving me stranded in my wheelchair instead of taking me to the doctor, letting the random pervert drive me instead).

In addition to caring for my beloved daughter, I am heavily involved in the community. I started a support group for older women to share our innermost feelings. We share a great bond with each other and come away each week feeling wonderfully uplifted (her group for people who hate their children! Who meet in a bar! And the only member is herself!).

My grandchildren are my pride and joy; full of creativity (yeah, they creatively ran over me), energy (the energy it took to throw me on the train tracks), and you can see the love they have for their mother in her time of need. It is my privilege to raise them during Sarah's absence, but we look forward to her return and we know our prayers will be answered. She will be returned to us just in time for Christmas and her children will get to do the twelve days of Christmas for her; one special day between Mommy and them for each child! I can hardly wait to see the look on her face (she means sheer terror).

May you have a Merry Christmas and a New Year filled with happiness and prosperity.

Julia Bird

P.S. Enclosed is a photo of Sarah during one of the many tragic experiences she has had to endure. Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers.

NOOOOOOOO!!!!!! 12 DAYS OF MY CHILDREN TORTURING ME!!!!! I miss my coma more than ever. See what I mean when I said she would come out smelling like a rose? Her newsletters are deceptively normal. But beneath her phoney, fluffy words lurk the most evil intentions.

Bless My Dumb Nurse Tanya

Tanya accidentally gave me penicillin again which earned me some extra time in the hospital. Yes! Whatever plans my family had for my homecoming were utterly ruined. I almost died, but it was definitely worth it.

It itches so good.

Early Christmas Gifts

I swear I have the dumbest nurses ever. They are all oohing and ahhing over my mother (the worst mother in the world) and her generosity because of the wonderful early Christmas gifts she brought me. Sounds nice, doesn't it? Who doesn't want an early Christmas gift?

She bought me an ankle bracelet, leg warmers, socks, and some festive stockings that I was begging her for last year.

I HAVE NO LEGS!!!!!!!

Every time we're alone, she laughs at me and says she can't wait for me to come home. Doctor says that will be tomorrow. Not if I have anything to do with it!

Even Better

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Elf Will Smith

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

I'm tired of people sending me this thing so I added this disturbing picture of Will Smith's swollen face. Makes me feel better.