amushro

Crime and Punishment: Please Don’t Take the iPad Away

April 22, 2013 by amushro

If the bags under my eyes weren’t a clear indicator of my need for more sleep, the kitchen full of empty Diet Coke cans and coffee that has been reheated in the microwave one too many times should tell you that this Mamma is TIRED!

Because Hubby works late and usually misses out on the torture joy that is bath and bedtime, I devised an evil plan that allows me to get a few more zzzzzzzs, him some quality time with the kids, and a little payback for “oh, the metro broke down again” —he has to get up in the morning with the kids. (Insert evil laugh here).

The other morning I couldn’t be sure if I was dreaming, no, no, no having a nightmare, or if Hubby was actually trying to ruin my life. Monkey must have been throwing a temper tantrum over who knows what (again, I wasn’t on duty and don’t really care about the specifics), but I distinctly heard Hubby say “That’s enough, you have lost the iPad for the rest of the day.” Why would he say such a thing? My sweet slumber was immediately ruined! I jumped out of bed and raced down the stairs trying to stop him from making a terrible mistake.

I get that parents need to be on the same page with discipline and you can’t undermine the other parent when they are laying down the law, but I had to stop this nonsense because if Monkey was banned from the iPad for the day, it was ME that was being punished.

I am not ashamed to say that I use the iPad and iPhones in this house to entertain, bribe, and calm wild beasts. Without them my Mommy Bag ‘O Tricks would be pretty shallow.

Now that he doesn’t nap and I need to get work done in this house, Monkey happily skips off with the iPad while Mommy gets the first shower of the week without an audience, maybe I tackle the laundry pile that has engulfed half of the house, or maybe I just sit on my arse drink a Diet Coke and watch Dr. Phil. Either way, he is happy, maybe learning something, maybe not, and I am happy. The iPad even forces the kids to share. It’s a magical little unicorn and I REFUSE to give it up!

If we need to run to the grocery store and someone is tempted the throw themselves into the shelves of cereal, don’t fear! Quickly toss them the phone and let them play the Bubble Guppies game.

At the doctor’s office for more than five minutes with a toddler that is ready to make it “rain up in there” with tongue depressors? No worries, we’ve got an app for that. Actually we have dozens of apps for that, and right now the Disney Junior app is on and she can watch Little Einsteins. Boom! She is happy and the tongue depressors are safe.

Trying to cook dinner but have two kids pushing you, standing on your feet, and requesting the 100th cheesestick of the day? Take the iPad and beat it, kids. Now they are blissfully happy while you chop, saute, and bake a yummy dinner they probably won’t eat, but hey, you tried.

It’s like Steve Jobs saw the frazzled Mom and worked feverishly with the Apple geniuses to create something so wonderful, so mind consuming, and so addictive that he should have been given a Nobel Peace Prize.

When I see an articles written about kids too connected to technology and we are creating mini zombies when they have too much iPad/iPhone time, I just have to say shut up, seriously. While pregnant I never drank, smoke, or did Crystal Meth (well to be honest, I never did Crystal Meth). I nursed both kids long enough to watch the slow demise of my perky breasts, and I engage them with all sorts of educational and meaningful activities every day. I will not apologize for their overuse of the iPad and I if you need an excuse, I am sure we have an app for that.

My Questionable Attachment to My Kids Clothes

April 17, 2013 by amushro

I had one job. One little job, and I couldn’t do it. Given the task by Hubby, all I needed to do was take the bins full of the clothes the kids have outgrown and move them to Space Bags. I left Hubby in charge of the kids and headed upstairs to start packing; however, a few minutes into digging in those bins and this is how he found me……

No I am not napping, although I had my perfect excuse to sneak away and nap. No, friends, no resting over here. This is me weeping into their baby clothes.

My entire life I’ve been looking two steps ahead for the next big thing to plan and get ready for. Take the slave-driver that put me in this awful clothes-induced mess. Once I knew he was “the one,” I was sending him engagement rings pictures signed from the dog (hilarious). Once I got the ring, it was non-stop wedding planning. You have no idea how happy I am that the time sucking vortex Pinterest did not exist back then. I may not have made it out of wedding planning with a husband to wed. No time for the honeymoon phase here, once the wedding was over, I was in full on baby making mode. But when those sweet babes arrived and introduced me to sleepless nights and stretch marks, I wanted to slam on the brakes, stop time, and enjoy their little lives without rushing through.

Am I being a bit over dramatic, perhaps. Am I too emotional, yup. Have I become an emotions tramp just giving out my affections to everyone? Just give me a “hello my name is…” sticker.

Hubby was being completely unrealistic and tried to pry the clothes out of my hands. After he suggested we just get rid of everything for the tenth time, I decided to let go of the vice gripe I had on his man parts when he saw the error of his ways and simply walked away from the crazy lady. He forced me to finish the job, but not before I pulled out a few of my favs to stash them away.

I love this coat. I love everything about this orange, puffy jacket that Monkey wore when he was one. I rescued it from the piles of clothes because I can’t bear to put it back in the attic. I have plans for this little coat, you see. When he leaves me for college, I will wrap this coat around a pillow and cry myself to sleep in this coat. You may think this is a bit much, but I think it is a sign of a good mom when you can admit this sort of ~~obsession~~ ~~unhealthy attachment~~ love.

When I made my way over to the bins that were overflowing with pink, ruffles and tutus, I knew there was one gem I needed to find. One of the first things I bought when I found out I washaving a girl was this itsy, bitsy bikini. Mimi wore it on her first few trips to the beach. Here she is at only three weeks old napping and rocking that bikini.

I just want to squeeze that tiny newborn and sniff her sweet head. Her second birthday is coming up fast (sniff…sniff), and I want to slow down this little lady from getting too big too fast. I love this bikini and I love this picture. When she is a teenager and says awful, terrible things to me and rolls her eyes 937 times a day, I will snuggle this bikini and remember the sweet babe that adored me and refused to be held by anyone else….then I will drink…heavily because I don’t think I can handle a teenage daughter. A revealing bikini on a newborn is adorable and makes me teary to see. However, a too revealing bikini on a teenage Mimi will send me into a fit and I will be forced to drag her sweet ass off the beach by her ponytail.

Now it’s your turn! Tell me what you have kept of your kids that makes you an emotions tramp.

Don’t forget to enter in my giveaways! I have two going on right now!

The first is a Family Photography Session from Rosic Photography

a Rafflecopter giveaway and the second is for a signed copy of Scary Mommy, Jill Smokler’s new book!

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Guest Blogger and a Scary Mommy Giveaway!

April 13, 2013 by amushro

Oh, hello! I should probably have a huge “Under Construction” sign hanging on this site because it is a bit of a mess. But no need to worry, friends! In a few weeks the whole blog will have a new and fabulous look! Until then, don’t judge the mess and I won’t judge those dirty dishes in your sink, deal?

Since we are moving in a few weeks, I have broken down and started the dreaded task of packing. We still haven’t found a new house (anyone got room in their basement…no really, anyone?), but I am already up to my eyeballs with packing boxes, bubble wrap, and lots of great memories of this home. Let’s just say, Mamma likes her wine this week. When I hit a bit of a rough patch, I knew my BBB (Best Blogger Buddy) Stephanie from When Crazy Meets Exhaustion would understand and talk me off my ledge. Today she is sharing a bit of her crazy and joining me for a great giveaway!

When Crazy Meets Exhaustion

When I received a text message pic of Amanda sobbing into a bin of her kids’ baby clothes, I didn’t judge. I wasn’t all, “Damn, girl, get a hold of yourself.” Instead I was all, “WAAAAAA!” right along with her. Why? Because we crazy. And chances are, if you have little ones of your own, you are, too. And when Amanda asked me to share my nutjob insanity emotional attachment to some kid-related thangs, I actually had a hard time choosing just one. Below is a list of the things my kids do that leave me with tear stained cheeks, and with them frightened to come near me for a half hour or so:

Channeling Elmo: My daughter is turning two in less than a month (I know, right?!) and I fear that she will soon forgo referring to herself in the third person. I friggin’ love hearing “Ella help;” “Ella do,” “Ella like” coming from her sweet mouth.

Speech impediments: Piggybacking off of the grammatically incorrect ways of Elmo, I can’t get enough of my kids’ mispronunciations of words and phrases. Oh, the joy! My 3.5 year-old son says “un-cumfit-bul” when he’s trying to say “uncomfortable” and it makes my heart so happy. My nosy gal is always saying, “Mommy doo-nin?” (Mommy, what are you doing?) or “Pick up me!” when she wants to be held. The day they lose these impediments, I will die a little inside.

Mastery: Mastery of feeding themselves, coloring in the lines, opening the refrigerator to get me a cold beer their milk cups—it’s just too much! Full disclosure for parents who are currently potty training their kiddos: in theory, we want them to tinkle and poo in the toilet. However, the day they are self-reliant enough to do so, you will feel a twinge of sadness because that is one more way they don’t need you. (It’ll be okay, I promise. I’m hugging you now, do you feel it?)

Affection: It won’t be long. No, friends, the day is drawing ever closer. The day when the boy won’t hug me in public; the day the girl stops throwing herself into my arms either forgetting or despite the fact that she’s mad at me for saying No. Hugs and kisses on the lips will be replaced with ruffles of the hair and macho fist-bumps. My tears will be replaced with vodka, but that’s a post for another day.

I can’t be the only one, right? I mean, if Amanda is boo-hooing into clothes, and I’m all kinds of crazy over speech impediments, there must be more of us, yes? So, tell me, Mamas and Papas, what bit of adorableness makes you cuckoo for your kiddos?

This week our favorite blogger Jill Smokler, the hilarious lady behind ScaryMommy.com, published her second book Motherhood Comes Naturally (and Other Vicious Lies). Jill’s writing is so funny and so honest, we know you will laugh out loud just like we did. So we are teaming up to give four of our readers copies of the new book signed by Jill! Fancy, right? So click the link and enter for your chance to win!

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Motherhood Comes Naturally (and Other Vicious Lies)

Questionable Choices in Parenting Pictures

April 11, 2013 by amushro

Questionable Choices in Parenting day………………….ehhh, who the hell knows. My newest submission is this photograph. Here’s a quick game, let’s see how many things you can spot in this picture that are off just a tad and make you question my parenting skills.

Where oh where should we start? Well, for one, this is my kid playing outside in her pajamas. Yes, I let my kid walk around the neighborhood in her jammies. At least she has shoes on and the jammies match. I call this a success.

Did you notice that she is wearing Santa jammies? Yup, too small Santa jammies, I might add. They were snug a few weeks ago, but here we are, in April, still sporting our December jammies.

And the crème de la crème, the bees knees, the cat’s (or Santa in this case) pajamas, the cutest little carpenter crack I have ever seen. Those too small jammies and her super heavy diaper that needed changed before she strutted through the neighborhood are weighing her down and exposing her assets.

I know photographers like to share their secrets and equipment. Well I used my fancy iPhone camera and snapped this pic while I lie on my back and let Monkey chalk an outline of my exhausted body. It would seem my need to take a nap and camera phone would put me at the perfect angle to catch this chalking crack.

Hmmmm… Maybe this baby butt crack just inspired a new section for my blog. Pictures of my Questionable Choices in Parenting not pictures of coin slots. Gross

Listen, I don’t know the first thing about photography, but I know a talented gal that does!

For my readers in Uniontown, PA and Morgantown, WV! The super talent Melissa Rosic is generously giving one lucky reader a Family Portrait session!

Enter to win a Family Portrait Session from Rosic Photography! The session will include one 60 min session and 10 image file downloads with print release! Session must be held during the month of June in the Uniontown or Morgantown Area. Regular Family Portrait Sessions details apply and can be found on her website.www.mrosicphotography.wix.com/lifestyle

Click the link below to enter! Lots of chances to enter! Share this with your friends!

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Silent Nights? Singing My Kids to Sleep Make Me Ugly Cry

April 8, 2013 by amushro

When I’m driving in my car and singing along with the radio, I’m often shocked at how I am note for note and tune for tune with the singing ability of Adele. I mean really, my singing is amazing. Sometimes I wonder why someone hasn’t just thrown a Grammy at me.

OK, I just snorted from laughing so hard. That may be the biggest lie I have ever told; I can’t carry a tune in a bucket. Apparently when they were handing out talented vocal cords, I was standing in the sarcasm line.

Never one to be deterred from a lack of talent, I belt out tunes all day long, much to the chagrin of my kids. Mimi usually tells me “Shhhhhh, no,” but the older and more verbal kid says “Mommy, stop. Your singing hurts my ears.” My bad singing isn’t what embarrasses me (although it should), it’s the fact that I am so crazy I can’t sing them to sleep without crying.

I am probably traumatizing the kids and will need to pay for their sleep therapy bills someday because I have special songs I sing to each kid, and I can’t get through the first verse without weeping. Even if the kids have been really bad, my nerves are shot, and I am moments away from selling them on Craigslist, the minute I start singing “their” songs—it’s a waterfall and I am weeping uncontrollably. Should I just pick different songs to sing to them? Probably, but, like I said, I am crazy.

I even create little scenarios in my head when I sing to them. Sometimes I imagine dancing with my grown children cheek to cheek at their weddings. Of course there are details like I am looking gorgeous in my dress, my kids have never been happier, and the crowd keeps remarking I look the same as on my wedding day and that having such an amazing waistline at my age should be a crime.

If you’re crazy and you know it, clap your hands!

For your listening pleasure, here are some slow jams—or the songs I sing to my kids. For Monkey, Bruno Mars’ Count on Me–please note, I burst into tears while searching for it on YouTube.

And for Mimi it’s my singing soul mate Adele’s Make You Feel My Love. It’s too much for me. I am going to start the ugly cry.

Great songs, right? Did you cry when you were listening to them? Don’t lie, you did.

Just when I was coming to terms with my nighttime crying spells, I caught someone else in this house getting emotional when signing a few tunes to the kids. It would seem that Hubby has my kind of crazy.

From the minute Monkey was born, Hubby has sung John Denver’s Country Roads to him. Since we are both WVU grads, that song is a rite of passage and probably one of the few songs (besides some Pearl Jam crap) that he knows all of the words to. Sometimes I think Hubby is imagining taking Monkey to his first WVU football game, showing him around campus, wiping a tear when he passes the old frat house, and puffing up his chest when he points out the hot spots where he picked up chicks (gross). Every night when you ask Monkey what he wants to sing, it is always Country Roads, and I die a little when I hear that little boy sing “Almost Heaven…..”

When Hubby dances and sings with Mimi to The Lumineers “Ho Hey,” his eyes get all glassy as he sways his little lady back and forth. She squeals when he sings (why don’t I get that reaction?). I’m pretty sure the line “I don’t think you’re right for him” is his secret prayer that Mimi will always think he is the most wonderful man in the world and never, ever leave him.

Maybe he is just singing to his kids, but I like to think his delusions and crazy run deep like mine. After all, I shouldn’t be the only one to screw up these kids, right?

Share the songs you sing with your kids and we can cry together!

I also have a giveaway for my readers in Uniontown, PA and Morgantown, WV! The super talent Melissa Rosic is generously giving one lucky reader a Family Portrait session!

Click the link below to enter! Lots of chances to enter! Share this with your friends!

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Cheap Tricks: Entertaining My Kids With a Carwash

April 3, 2013 by amushro

I am sort of feeling a little like gangsta rapper Ice Cube (not the bad movie “Are We There Yet” actor) because today was a good day.

While Ice Cube was happy because he “saw the police and they rolled right past me” my day was spectacular because I wasn’t just Mommy today. No, no, no I was Rockstar Mommy, Superhero Mommy, Better-Than-Elmo-DocMcStuffins-MickeyMouse-D.J.LanceRock-Mommy and all it took was a car wash.

It would seem that the lying bastard Puxatony Phil is being raked through the coals for leading us to believe that spring was right around the corner. Well yesterday it was a lovely 60 degrees in Maryland, and it FINALLY started to feel like spring. At nine in the morning we were out on the playground, spent some time drawing with sidewalk chalk, and finished the morning playing a rousing game of hide and go seek.

It has been a loooonnnnggg winter and I have dug into my Mommy Bag’o Tricks one too many times in order to entertain the kids. You know those kids that can happily sit inside all day and color or make crafts? Yeah, those aren’t my kids and if you have kids like that….I hate you. OK, I don’t hate you, but I am super jealous because both of my kids go bat-shit-crazy if I keep them inside for too long. They start jumping up and down on the couch pumping their little fists chanting “We’re not gonna take it…”

Because my son is Captain Random, I shouldn’t have been surprised when he turned to me (covered in blue and green chalk, mud, and mulch) and said “Mommy, let’s go to a car wash.” A car wash? Really? All of the things we could do on this beautiful day and you want to go to a car wash? Far be it for me to deny that sweet boy from something as simple as a car wash. So I put the dirty little playground kiddos in the car and headed off to the drive thru car wash.

It would seem we were having a Goldilocks moment because the first car wash was too busy. There was a pile up of cars waiting for a scrub. The second one was broken, and I had all but given up hope until we came across a third car wash that had zero line, was in proper working order, and took credit cards for the Mamma that doesn’t carry cash.

When we pulled the swagger wagon into the car wash the kids actually cheered. Cheered! Who needs Disney World when you have a seven dollar car wash?

Checkout my little professor studying the multi-colored soap. Who needs a roller coasters when you are already strapped in your Goldfish encrusted car seat?

And here is Mimi, who was a bit apprehensive of the huge sponge-bristel-washer-things that scrubs the car, but she was digging the rinse cycle and celebrated with a cheerful “Yaaaaaaay!” Overpriced park admission? Not in this family. Sunoco Car wash,baby!

Like all adventures, the joy ended too soon, but don’t worry, I took the kids for a second swing through the wash. They were just as happy the second time around. When we headed home, Monkey made up a song about the car wash and Mimi mumbled along. When they Skyped with my parents that night, the first thing they talked about: car wash. When their dad came home from work, what did they greet him with: car wash.

Tomorrow, kids, Mommy is going to give you a special treat: Home Depot! Take an adventure ride on a stationary lawn mower. Hurry up because there is no line in the rug and door displays! I will even splurge for the souvenir paint chip cards! Take as many as you like!

So, tell me, when you need to entertain the kids, where do you take them?

I’m Guest Blogging and Oversharing

March 26, 2013 by amushro

The super funny Stephanie over at When Crazy Meets Exhaustion has started a new series on her blog called Oversharing: I Ain’t Scarrred! She has asked bloggers to share humiliating, private, traumatic, and just down right hilarious stories with her readers. It really is pretty magical—like a unicorn!

Today she is featuring my piece and I have to give you a bit of a warning. If reading about girly parts gone wrong is not for you, no problem! Check out my blog for other posts to read or puruse my Facebook page for pictures of Channing Tatum.

If you are intrigued by a story of my girly parts (pervert), click here to me check me out!

Things My Husband Can Do Better Than Me

March 25, 2013 by amushro

If you read my blog, you may think “Wow! That gal is a hoot!” or maybe you are thinking “That girl has pizzazz! That husband of her’s is a lucky devil.” And if you think that, you would be sorely wrong (well I am a hoot, but the other stuff is a stretch).

To be honest, I am a pill to live with. I am bossy, demanding, over emotional, and a lousy housekeeper. On top of that, I don’t reciprocate backrubs, I often say things like “I’ll cut you if you don’t stop snoring”, and I threaten divorce if Hubby speaks to me during True Blood, Homeland, Glee, Scandal, Nashville, Friday Night Light re-runs… you get the picture. See what I mean? A real pill.

Most days I am really hard on Hubby and I know I need to lay off him because he really is a great guy (even if he is missing a chromosome that reminds him to shut drawers and cupboards). Today I watched him push the kids on the swings outside and I got to thinking about the things he is better at than I am, and they are all things that are super important to kiddos. So for once, I will ease up on that boy I married a million years ago and let him know he is doing a good job. Here is what I came up with:

He is way better at rough housing than I am. Maybe it is because I am terrified that I will hurt them or I have had by boobs stepped on one too many times, but I leave all of the rough housing over to their Dad. Research suggests kids rough housing with their dad is actually good for a kid’s development. So go ahead, big guy, throw those kids in the air (but you better catch them or I will cut you), roll around and wrestle, let them win sometimes, let them lose sometimes, let them knee you in the balls and pretend it doesn’t hurt because the kids LOVE when they pin you, and I can sit on the couch and play referee with both boobs intact.
He said he was getting his MBA, but I suspect he was taking classes in fort building. I’ll admit, my forts are super lame. Usually I throw a blanket over a chair and call it a day, but when I leave Hubby to his own devices he will create a fort masterpiece. I’m talking couch cushions, blankets, ropes, tunnels, doors, and even secret hideouts. He puts my fort skills to shame and that’s OK because I would rather play in his fort too. That sounded dirty…
He reminds me that breaking their schedule is OK sometimes. I am super Type A and keep my kids on a tight schedule. They thrive on their schedule, I thrive on their schedule, but if the kids go to bed late or miss a nap once in a blue moon, it’s fine and I will just make him deal with their crabby arses the next day.
He always cleans out the rogue sippies. You know, the ones that were filled with milk and have been hiding under the couch for a few days. I seriously just vomited in my mouth thinking of it. Because I gag at the thought of opening that toxic waste, I rely on him to open and clean the cup so that we are not running to the store each week to replenish our sippie collection.Taking one for the team.
Because I am with the kids all-day-every-day, my fuse is super short at night. So when Monkey and Mimi start streaking through the halls after bath time and I am left with their jammies and lotion, Hubby scoops them up before I lose my shizzz and put everyone in bed naked and itchy. As the second string quarterback, he makes sure the kids make it to bed every night lubed up and in jammies and Mamma has a sliver of sanity.

See, the guy is great. Maybe I should think of these things when I have told him 374 times to take the recycling bin to the back of the house and he ignores me. He can still be a real pain, but he is super cute. So I am going to try to cool it with the cutting threats…for now.

Oh, Babe, can you take the recycling bin to the back of the house?(375)

Losing His Nap & Finding Inner Peace

March 19, 2013 by amushro

Namaste, friends

Please, come into the little Zen Garden that is my home.

Why the sudden nirvana (and I don’t mean the Kurt Cobain kind)? Well friends, this new enlightenment has come from my son’s nap. Actually it is the release of his nap that has me in perfect chi. This sounds absurd, right? But I am really thinking Oprah is just minutes from calling me to share my “A-ha!” moment on her network.

After months of fighting the inevitable, ignoring the words of wisdom from my friends, and driving myself freaking bananas, I have let the nap go. And just like that “poof” the naps are gone like they never existed, and life in this house is still going on. So why was I holding on for so long? I have a couple of theories.

One, I am a moron that likes to drive myself bat-shit-crazy. Because who doesn’t love to fight their kid for an hour to take a nap that will usually last 45 minutes? Oh and be sure to note this lame nap will ensure he won’t be able to sleep until 10:00 each night. No one and I mean no one should be with their own child for that many hours a day. To add insult to injury, I would FINALLY get Monkey to sleep for his nap and would start skipping down the hall for a few glorious moments of freedom only to hear Mimi waking up from her nap. More times than I can count, I would drop to the floor and sob because I was so tired and just needed a break. If I wasn’t so tired and so desperate to get both kids to sleep, their timing would be hilarious. Instead it was just painful.

My second theory is my inability to break our schedule. From the minute Monkey was born, I have been the queen of schedules, and this kid has been napping at 1:00 since he was one. How was I going to change our schedule all of a sudden? Aren’t kids supposed to nap every day? At what point is it OK to let them just stop? I think I was afraid of doing something wrong and messing him up for life. You know, like if I let him stop napping too early he would end up doing crystal meth as an adult and would be living on the streets with a sign that said “If my mom had only made me nap I wouldn’t be in this mess today.” Strangers that passed him would throw him change and judge me for my Questionable Choices. So in reality, I was making him nap to keep him from becoming a meth addict, right?

My final theory is that his daily naps were his last “baby” thing he had left. I know that at three and a half the kid is not going to pack his bags, fall in love with some terrible girl that I hate, and move across the country with this home wrecker girl, but he really isn’t a baby anymore. WAHHHHHHH!

Whatever my well-intentioned but misguided reasons for holding on to the nap for too long were, I am happy to say that life is a lot better around here. I take Mimi up for her nap and he heads to his room for “quiet time.” However, quiet time really doesn’t last too long because he comes downstairs to tell me that daddy penguins take care of the eggs while the mommy penguin hunts. Thanks, Captain Random.

Usually we do things that we can’t do while Hurricane Mimi is awake, like play Candy Land 584 times or color without her eating the crayons. So he and I actually have a little bonding time rather than me being so angry he isn’t sleeping. Cue the Oprah “A-ha!”

Even the nights are better because he is so exhausted and can’t keep his eyes open past 7. It is actually a joy to put him to bed now. He falls asleep quickly in my arms, but I hold on to him for a few extra minutes, kiss his sweet face, and whisper in his ear “I am only this crazy because I love you and I don’t want you to do Crystal Meth or marry some awful girl.”