10-30-06

Friday night was game night with all my girlfriends, and game night is code for pig out night. I took the liberty of studying the 2006 food pyramid guidelines and wanted to alleviate some stress (ladies no worries about those delicate figures) by showing that what we ate fits into these categories perfectly (my interpretation). First grains: We had mass quantities of this area, pumpernickel, beer bread, sesame rods, pretzel crisps, crisp rounds, grahams, and others. You need 6 oz. From this section and I’m sure we topped that, bravo ladies. Second vegetables: 2.5 cups this gets a little trickier but here we go, Spinach dip (hello great veggie), chopped red pepper in the sausage purses (tons of anti- oxidants I’m sure), and that’s really it but I’m almost sure I got to 2 cups of that stuff. Third Fruits: Hello apples and what tastes better than apples, fluff ‘n’ stuff with apples! Also I’m counting pixie sticks; they came in a variety of delicious “fruit” flavors, so I think we are covered there. Then we touch on oils, duh we more than touched that! Fifth is milk :( a mean category for me let me tell you, but that didn’t stop me), Dips, and that’s all I should say there were at least 5 different kinds. Not to forget the variety of delicious cheeses. Finally meats and proteins: well I already mentioned sausage purses and the sesame rods that I mentioned for breads… wrapped in bacon! Killing two birds with one stone, we are the brainier species. I did leave out some keys items (cream puffs and lava cake) but the moral: No pyramid is too high especially if you are trained mountain climbers (code word for eaters).Thank you and good day.

10-27-06

You
I look at you from afar
I cannot reach you
The distance is great
I want to control you
I cannot
It pains me to think of me always reaching for you
You seem broken
You were my best friend
So reliable
Full of stories
You seem broken
You

Maybe poetry should be my escape now that my TV controller is missing again…

This was an email I sent to my husband at work. I wanted him to be with me through my sadness, but he immediately thought it was about him. It’s about the TV. I thought I’d put into word a poem for him.


Selfish
Worried about you
No feelings for others
Sitting alone in a dark room
No ambient light coming from my TV
Alone
All about you
What about me
Missing a piece
Alone
Selfish

While he’s at work trying to provide for our family (I’m just here to raising the children of our future!), I’m trapped here without any connection to the outside world (at this very moment a tear is running down my cheek.) My favorite song lyrics come to mind… “What about me, it isn’t fair
I’ve had enough now I want my share
Can’t you see I wanna live
But you just take more that you give”

This is a fave of my sister and me. I am saddened that I’m not even sure who sings it (again another tear). Can this day get any worse?

10-25-06

Ever been to a “Costco” (bulk ‘r’ us), I have not had the pleasure until yesterday. My sister has one of these memberships that you need to get into the exclusive facility. If you’ve never been it is quite a sight. You could purchase a 9 ft. pre- lighted Christmas tree, or perhaps a flat screen TV for $1799.00 or you may just be running in to get that nutcracker arbor that you missed out on last year, or finally maybe just picking up that mass supply of teriyaki beef jerky that you crave ever so often. So you can see the confusion sets in immediately. I don’t want to pass up some deal of the century or miss out on getting the 30 packs of gum, because you never know when you’ll get stinky breath and with 30 packs, I could almost guarantee that you would not catch me with halitosis. So after you take all that into consideration I thought I would share what I did pick up at Costco with you. Let me preface by saying that I am not pregnant (but I’m still loopy)… A 3lb. 4oz. bag of plain M&M’s, a 2.5 quart jar of pickles (spears), a 5lb. 4oz. tub of animal crackers, laundry detergent, fabric softener, a ginormous bag of pretzel crisps, a carton of Nabisco items (Oreos to Ritz bits), 3 pot roasts, Christmas cards, and finally a case of Capri sun juice(variety of flavors). What can I say, I’m eclectic. What I really needed was vegetable oil but all it came in was an 8 gallon jug, and I didn’t want my husband getting his hopes up for some recreation of some strip club thing he saw in the 80’s.

10-24-06

Let me just start this story by saying that our downstairs bathroom is torn up (unusable) and my 14 year old had a friend staying over. SO at 5:00 a.m. Saturday morning when my 14 year old stampeded into the hall bath and began to heave into the bathroom sink, two things ran through my mind. First thank god he made it into the bathroom and second… Gross! (See how I care if their sick, just where they get sick). I don’t want to get sidetrack but at this point I would like to say I have no idea why he threw up, everyone I tell this story to asks me “why did he throw up?” Um… huh? How am I suppose to know, he licked a garbage can lid on a dare, he’s training for the vomit Olympics, he was attacked by small gremlins in his sleep that pummeled at his stomach, I don’t know. Anyway I kicked my husband to go help him (the reason for this, 97% me cleans vomit to the 3% he contributes.) Okay he gets into the bathroom and my even my husband (who says he doesn’t care where the kids vomit…3% people) was like, Eww. At that point I say well clean it up (remember we have a guest and people need the sink and I don’t want to start mass puking as the others wander in there and smell it.) My thoughtful husband, the man I chose to spend the rest of my life with says… “You can get it in the morning”… Huh? What? Pinch me I’m dreaming right? He said “YOU” … I think I may have to open a can of whoop ass! This story is getting a bit too long let’s just end it by saying “How was your dinner, honey, not too spicy?”

10-16-06

Here’s a sport men could do, you’re on your hands and knees washing the floor and at any moment someone (preferably a 26 lb. toddler with a screwdriver) could attack you. The goal is to finish the floor (changing the nasty bucket water at least once and you can’t use the kitchen sink) and have no tears or bloodshed throughout the process. Another sport idea, folding laundry while a projectile keeps tackling you (again lets use a 26 lb. toddler). The goal is to fold the laundry correctly (no inside out stuff) and put it in the correct places (I know it all looks alike but take the extra minute to decide if the woman of the house could fit into the Dora the Explorer panties.) You may also go for the extra points by keeping a newly curious inhabitant out of the garbage (once again 26 lb. toddler will suffice). It may contain last nights French fry and this creature is dumfounded why we would let this hairy goodness go, and just may eat it if you’re not on your toes. Good Luck!

10-13-06

My daughter and my toddler both could pronounce one word pretty flawlessly… chocolate. I try to say it’s not me but of course it is I who is sneaking Breyer’s with Hershey’s Shell topping each night. I’m like a drinker who has one or two at night after a rough day just to function. Oh and I’ve been caught, sneaking my dark (really milk is my fave) little secret. My toddler will wake up and come downstairs, get right on my lap, put his nose to mine and say “smell?” Then he will take in a big whiff and look at me with the “I caught you look”, and grin and say “chocolate.” I will deny like any addict would but they know (the old joke is, how can you tell an addicts lying? ... their lips are moving. In my case they also have a special candy coating stuck in their teeth.). We adults think we are so clever. I now know that this illness can be passed on through my genes (denial again…it’s poor parenting skills). Taking my daughter to the doctor stresses her out ever since she was little. So brilliant parent I am I have her popping M&M’s the entire visit. I said to the doctor she will need some sort of therapy because I can add, stress + chocolate = disorder. Or when she was potty training, she would receive five M&M’s for using the bathroom, candy + toilet = is what is going to happen to your stomach. And still the way I talk my kids out of any of the goodies they find just to keep them for myself, “Um how bout I just drive you to the toy store” or “Here take this $20 you can get a lot more with this.” I am nuts. I even went online to see if they had a support group. One website reeled me in with the AA credo, “Hi, my name is” but you click on there site and there are recipes for Brownie Mix Rocky Road Bars and Black and White cookies! I guess I’m bringing this up because of a certain holiday approaching where my sickness hits high gear. My lying shines through with my greatest fabrication… “Ew, no, don’t eat that you don’t like that.” Damn you All Hallows Eve!!

10-12-06

Do I tell my oldest son that…

A. I took the liberty of washing all his bedding because athletes and teenagers need fresh linens to concentrate?

B. Tell him I accidentally locked the cat in his room and she took the liberty of doing something to his bedding.

C. Wash, remake it, and pray.

I’m screwed!

My husband just called, he recommends first C, and then wait a day or two, then B.

My other idea…
Buy him off with gifts, because with monetary items there is forgiveness (Kobe is a good example and he did something worse than the kitty)…

10-12-06

Three of my favorite shows:

1. The Office- any time Steve Carell says “That’s what she said” I laugh. And Dwight can we just hang out? I find you witty… in a serial killer sort of way.

2. Lost- but at this time I may be more confused than normal (if that is at all possible). Is one side of the island a Club Med? Also keep Sawyer dirty, please no shower for him! And then send him to my house to do some yard work, where we will reenact last night’s scene. (To my hubby… he really did some fabulous landscaping and there’s no need for him to clean up to come over hereJ.)

3. Project Runway- Auf Wiedersehen. I can’t help its just like my home life; the deadlines, the pressure, bickering, cleaning up, people judging you, and hot models (did I mention I was 5’11 ½” with a 26 waist? Ha-ha).

10-10-06

You ever put something on and you get pep in your step. I had it the other day when I put on my “good butt” jeans. It’s just a little sad when you’re the one throwing out the compliments while passing the mirror, doing double takes on yourself can be a little lonely. And walking backwards with your butt sticking out can land you in the loony bin. But what can I say; I was peppy, so anyone that would look, I pointed it out. Apparently, when a woman reaches a certain plateau in her adulthood and wants to share her posterior with others, no matter of the surroundings (McDonalds or in the middle of the street) this is called a “psychotic break.” So sorry to all of you that I involved (especially the ones that endured my performance of Sir Mix -A- Lot.) I just wanted a little love.

10-09-06

I have come to believe that in hell they make you scrape wallpaper. So I would just like to take this opportunity to apologize for anything I've done in the past or may do in the future, if I have some sort of brain lapse (someone please kick me). Thank you.

10-06-06

Remember my visit to Target with the kids, well I went alone today and fortunately I didn’t have to deal with misfit children but I had to deal with my own covetousness (my big word of the day, if you don’t like my stories maybe you can learn some vocab).So just to begin, its probably not a good idea to go down each and every aisle. When I was staring at all the different choices of bathroom cleaner (who knew of all the upgrades since my scrubbing bubbles came on the market), I should have realized that dilly- dallying would cost me. So when I finally reached the last aisle (on just the right hand side of the store) and a lady looked into my cart and said “Oh, I’d hate to have to put that all away when I got home” I should have ran straight to checkout. But NO…I plugged on over filling the cart. I had some gawkers, amazed at the balancing act I was performing but I proceeded on, looking at snow pants and Christmas presents (I know I’m insane). Eventually I reached the checkout and began to unload my ample supply of goods. The cashier had to use the big bags! The bags for a lot of stuff, the garbage sized bags, the bags reserved for the elite Target shoppers, and I knew my bill would be unmentionable (especially to my spouse). Any way what I’m getting at is I can’t tell “him” (my hubby, my other half, the man who thinks paper towels are a waste of money) how much I spent. To get to the point I would like all (twelve) of my readers to pledge some dinero to get me out of hock. If any of you can boost my readership the deposit from each of you could be minimal. So for any of you that have found yourself wandering through life (or a major discount store) and getting in a little over your head (with parmesan and garlic potato chips) I plead to you. My comrades, amigos, mothers (and fathers I know you’re out there), help this mom (bury the truth from her husband). I thank you for your time.

10-5-06

One of the first stories I wrote was about my daughter’s loose tooth. Well it’s been awhile and the ones that she has lost between then and now have seemed easy. We now are back to the irrational thinking and mass drama. Her not front tooth but side tooth is loose. This morning she spent a good 15 minutes staring at it in the mirror (like magical powers will painlessly drop it from her mouth into her palm) until I suggested maybe getting dressed for school. She turned to me and looked at me with the crazed Wookalar face (see “Private Eyes” one of my favorite movies of all time). “And how am I supposed to get clothes on?!” My response, “Over your head?” This is when I began to fear for my safety “My tooth is in the way!” I calmly suggested that she close her mouth. This is when she looked at me with her favorite “duh” look, “How am I supposed to do that, my lips are stuck because they’re dry.” Perhaps some liquid? Again stupid me she may swallow the tooth. That’s when I brought up that through this whole conversation she has been moving her lips. I will tell you now that she doesn’t ever want to be wrong (and I told her that 99.9% of the time she will not be wrong but that’s when she’s in a discussion with a man… again something to discuss a later time.) Anyway a high pitched screech emitted from her small frame a she stomped off and got dressed. Whew. Oh I forgot to mention she hadn’t eaten breakfast or brushed her teeth yet… so the melodrama had yet to really begin…

10-02-06 pt.3

Part 3 of Monday… While writing about Huggies experiment another incident occurred. A can of newly opened cashews and water was involved. Some of the cashews had been partially chewed (yum) and some were left whole. Again this procedure took place on the train table (and lucky me every square inch of the table was covered to insure proper analysis.) Perhaps he was looking into the effects of water absorption on nuts? Or maybe he is researching behavior of a mother on the edge?

10-02-06 pt.2

Part 2 of Monday… I walked in on my 2 ½ year old as he was performing a scientific test, only he wasn’t in a lab and he didn’t have a microscope. Let’s just say he was in the family room using his train table and conducting a Huggies pull-up “how much water can you hold” experiment. Only he was using the pull-up he’d been wearing and with one hand was pouring the water and with the other… using a god created instrument (good, right?) The other “equipment” had yet to be used. So I believe I just stopped some deadly chemical spill that would have needed E.T. wearing specialists and a syringe of valium… for me.


P.S. It reminds me of two lavatory experiments his older brother did when he was little. First, which is softer, toilet paper or your sock? (That one freaked me out and I may have thrown up in my mouth a teeny bit).Second, how high can I fill a cup… also done in the bathroom.

10-02-06

This morning consisted of the usual Monday morning mayhem. My oldest son’s alarm kept going off and my youngest kept jimmying the lock with a toy spatula and pressing the forward button so this continued on 4 more times until I figured out the problem. Then the toddler reached for a bottle of juice in the fridge (just as we are headed out the door) and proceeded to douse himself in cran-grape. This turned into a mild argument with my husband and myself because I said “who didn’t put the lid back on right?” and he said “I don’t think the lid was on wrong”. Then it was “well then how did the juice get out?” and he was like “well he tipped it” and I was all “well if the lid was on right I think he could turn it upside down and dance a jig”… you can see where that was going. So I get my daughter to school and hubby’s finally off to work. I reluctantly head to the dungeon of multiplying laundry where in the last two weeks I’ve dealt with leaves in the washer, which left what looked like doo-doo stains all over the clothes, and also a metallic bronze crayon mysteriously showed up in the dryer (how many bad words can you think up). Plus no matter how much I do the laundry it seems to be multiplying like rabbits. Low and behold I get to the basement and all my fears were fulfilled and I swear I saw a pair of boxers hop over to a corner! Anyway my neighbor calls and asks if I want to walk. Let me fill you in a bit I do not exercise but I have started this walking bit maybe 3 times before. My neighbor has the route all planned out and I believe she might be trying to kill me. Firstly it seems about 28 miles and secondly she has found the one mountain in our neighborhood (and even in this city) in which we must scale in this workout. Lastly I have to push the stroller with my child, who with the stroller and him combined probably exceeds 124lbs. at least (I never exaggerate people) .We get to the Himalayan part of our hike and I can’t even speak (this is unheard of) and I’m perspiring (ew). This is also the part where I want to knock on any door to make friends and see if they can give me a lift home (I’m a wimp what can I say). I also think of ways this could be easier, like if the stroller was remote controlled or we had something rigged up like in a mine shaft to pull me along or we could float on command, all the usual ideas. It also might be easier if my nanny was watching the child and the buff trainer was encouraging me as we went along with “you are gorgeous” or “I could bounce a quarter of that rump” and when we got home my personal chef (Tyler Florence maybe) was whipping me something up in the kitchen and my masseuse was on stand by and the butler brought me a drink just as I stepped into the hot tub. Why must I be denied! Well its only 10:00 a.m. now and my maid has forgotten to show up but I can’t do anything until the Motrin kicks in…