Mama! Mama!

Dude, can I borrow your truck?

2007-02-21T23:25:00.000-07:00

I'm moving. Yep, I'm making the switch to wordpress. Why? I Do. Not. Know. I set The Boy up on wordpress to that my blogless family could comment on his blog without it being an ordeal and decided it would be a good idea for me too. It was late. There were templates and widgets. and so it is. It is hard to let go of the very convincing Elvis impersonator, but the times, they are a changin'. And since no one actually reads this blog, I figured what the heck.

Do me one big favor though...all of you blogexplosion flybys and googlers searching for "Yo Mama" jokes....

Please visit my new blog to read this about my son...and take a second to do something small to you, but big to a boy. Thank you.

And now I'm off to pack.

Roses are red. Violets are blue. My daddy's farts smell like....

2007-02-20T02:13:00.000-07:00

Overheard while making dinner...

The Husband and The Girl discussing (of course) farts.

The Husband: Daddy's farts don't stink. They smell like roses.

The Girl: (with nary a pause) Yes they do! They smell like dead roses!

and also...

The Husband: Our computer server at work is having issues.

The Girl: Really Daddy? For real? (her new favorite saying)

The Husband: Really what?

The Girl: Your computer has shoes?

Get it? Issues...shoes...Ba dum bum!

The Girl. The comedian.

Phonin' it in

2007-02-18T18:19:00.000-07:00

I have acquired a new hair color. Not on purpose. I needed a new box of hair dye. My husband called from the store. They did not have my color. I picked a new color over the phone. Yep.

I checked out the box when he got home. It was red. Really red.

When I put it on my head it was dark. Really dark.

I was afraid I was going to look like this.

I don't do goth. I mean I'm pale, but not on purpose or anything.

When I washed it out it looked like the shower scene from Psycho. As the red water pooled around my feet I checked my self for machete wounds.

It turned out ok. The Boy actually said he liked it. And he doesn't notice anything.

Maybe I should make all of my beauty descisions by phone.

The Girl had her big tea party for her two Grandmas today. It had been in the planning for 2 weeks as a homeschool project. She made invitations, placemats, learned how to set the table, and how to be a good hostess. We made cookies from scratch (still surprised hell didn't freeze over) and tiny little tea sandwiches. We all dressed for tea.

My lovely little hostess greeted them at the door, thanked them for coming, and took their purses. She passed out cookies and sandwiches like a pro. As she daintily nibbled her sandwich, she belched. Loudly. And burst into gales of 3 year old screeching laughter. When jelly dripped on her arm, she licked it off like a cat. She ate a sugar cube and licked the peach preserves off of the knife. She gave herself a sponge bath with her cloth napkin and water glass.

It was the best tea party I have ever been to.

Note: In the pics of The Girl, note the eyeshadow. She could not choose between two shades of pink so she used them both. One on each eye.

Love Hangover

2007-02-15T03:11:00.000-07:00

I'm getting off to a bit of a slow start this morning. I'm exhausted. Of course with yesterday being Valentine's Day, I spent the night doing very little sleeping and a whole lotta' screaming.

Wink. Wink. Nudge. Nudge.

Yeah. Right.

I did do very little sleeping...due to the three and a half year old hogging my pillow, and digging tiny little toes into my stomach and/or back.
I also did plenty of screaming thanks to The Husband.
I yelled things like...
"You're snoring again!" "Would you please roll over?!" "ROLL OVER!

Snoring is so hot.

I'm glad I no longer buy into the Valentine's Day hype, or I may have felt let down.
Who needs a romantic dinner....I prefer the Mexican pizzas, eaten off of paper plates, each lovingly poked, prodded, and fingered by The Girl.
Who needs a night of passion when you can stay up late watching some financial advisor on PBS and crawl into a bed to find your spot is being ~~hogged~~ warmed for you?

Not Me. Nope. Passion schmassion.

I did, however get a gushy card from The Husband....and even better than that, a whole pound of Scotch-Mallows from See's candy. Yum. I think I'll keep him.

Side note: The Sport's Illustrated Swimsuit issue came out. Beyonce is on the cover. In an interview she said she loves the magazine because they feature "real women...with real curves"
Um...what now? Real women? Real curves? Uh, yeah. Shut up. When the scrawny wisps of girls found in those magazines face deciding whether to tuck their tummy roll into their pants or let it flop over, when they put on jeans and are confronted with the disturbing "swish, swish" sound of thighs rubbing together, or when their breasts sit on their laps when they are not wearing a bra...then, they can call themselves "real women". Hrumph.

Check please....

2007-02-14T01:31:00.000-07:00

A little background...My step-dad is in the hospital, in the ICU. He had a liver transplant about 2 years ago. He has fluid around his lungs. He has been in the ICU for over a month.

A few nights ago we loaded our freak parade in the old SUV and headed off to Red Robin. My daughter(3 yo)was wearing a full on Princess costume, pink My Little Pony Tiara, striped knee socks, and black Hello Kitty penny loafers (?). My son (9yo)carried a large bottle of Tums (long story).

During dinner my daughter asked if she kissed Papaw (my step-dad) if she could "catch his sick." I assured her that she couldn't and she asked why not. I began to tell her that some kinds of sick you can't catch from people. "Like cancer, you can't catch. And like So-and-So's diabetes. You can't catch," I assured her.

She seemed satisfied and sat silently absorbing the new information. Then my son piped up with...

"Genital herpes is a disease."

Blink. Ahem.

"What?"

"Genital Herpes is a disease...and there is no cure."

An expectant hush fell on the tables surrounding ours.

"Erm...yes....it....is."

But then I recovered. A bit.

"Yea, but you can still hike, kayak, and rock climb."

So the commercial says.

Hellooo? Anybody there?

2007-02-14T00:18:00.000-07:00

Well, after a short ...cough... 9 month...cough...break, I have decided to revisit the old blog. There is some dust and cobwebs, but I think I can fix her up. A few adjustments and she'll be good as new...which, for those (5 people) of you who remember, was not that good anyway. See, should be an easy job.
It only took 15 tries for me to remember my blogger password and here I am.
Not much new to report...just that we are back in CA, I sold my store and started one online, and oh yeah...I homeschool both of my lovely little offspring.
So what's new in the bloggosphere?

The Party's Over

2006-06-05T10:44:00.000-06:00

This was posted in the blog exchange here a month ago, but in honor of my daughter's birthday, I've updated it to use here. Does that count as an update? C'mon, cut me some slack...I'm in the middle of selling my business, trying to sell my house, I planned and prepared an Ariel/Princess birthday party, and my mother-in-law is visiting.
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My daughter’s birthday party went off without a hitch this weekend. She turned three. How in the heck did that happen? As cliché as it is, I swear it was just yesterday that she was a little blob of baby, screaming bloody murder in her car seat, smearing strained carrots on her high chair tray…sleeping peaceful baby sleep on my shoulder, fascinated by the spots of sunlight on the carpet. Now she goes to preschool. She traces her name and learns the names of the planets. She has a backpack almost as big as she is that she insists on carrying herself.
“I can do it, Mama. I am bigger.”
As we pack to move, I am sorting things to give away that we no longer need. My baby’s stroller went away yesterday. We used to takes walks to get lunch together with that stroller. We would stop along the way so she could pick flowers or watch a lizard dart away into the bushes. Now she can push her doll in it.
“Look, Mama. This is my baby. We are going to the store. See you later.”
Tiny clothes go into a bag. They are for someone else’s baby now. I tie the bags closed – and then rip them open again retrieving items I can’t bear to see go. The striped shirt that needed washed every night because it was all she would wear. The sleeper with the million snaps that drove me crazy every diaper change.
“Mama, I got dressed. I put the tags in the back. I did it myself.”
I remember waiting for her first smile. Hearing her first baby belly laugh. Was it really so long ago?
“Mama, wanna’ hear a joke? Knock knock. Who’s there? Mickey Mouse’s underwear.”
I remember her asleep on her daddy’s chest. I remember her nestled in the crook of his arm.
“Mama, when I get big I want to marry daddy…and Briton at school.”
The time has passed so quickly. Who told her she could grow up? I scoop her up and cradle her like a baby.
“Mama, I’m not a baby. I am bigger.”
“Yes, you are bigger, but you are still my baby.”
“No, I’m not. I’m big.”
And it’s true. She is big. And smart, and funny, and stubborn, and beautiful. She is everything that makes being a mom worth it. She is my little girl who is speeding toward adulthood at light speed. I want to stop it, or at least slow it down, but I know that I can’t. I cherish the memories of her as a baby, but each bit she grows adds new memories. And I know I’ll cherish those too. I’ll file them away and pull them out when she uses the car and leaves it with no gas or borrows my makeup and “forgets” to return it.
“Mama, hold me like when I was a baby.”
I lift her and cradle her in my arms, her long legs dangling. And time stands still.

June Blog Exchange - What's In a Name?

2006-06-01T09:27:00.000-06:00

This post is part of a June Blog Exchange on the theme "What's in a Name?" Click hereto read more. And, if you'd like to participate, email Kristen at kmei26 at yahoo.com.

It's time again for the blog exchange. Which means for me, the only time my blog actually gets updated lately. I would like to welcome Elissa from Punk Rock Parents....

What's in a Name??

We agonized over what to name our new puppy. He was nameless for way too long and we tossed around a ton of different names, combination of names, and we eventually ended up with "Mr. Buck-a-roo Fantastic". Yes we struggled for weeks to come up with that name. Then a few years later we were forced to name our unborn baby. The boy name can easily to us, but the girls name was a whole different story. After about 4 ultra-sounds we didn't know for sure that we were having a girl but the odds were high. When it came to naming a girl I left it entirely up to my fiancé. I did not want to do to my daughter, what my Mom did to me. I was named Elissa. Not Alyssa or Alicia, but "Uh-lee-ss-uh." My name is not strange or too unusual; it is not exotic or foreign. I have met other women named Elissa and we share our ever-enduring hardship. No one can ever pronounce the name correctly. I think that I have been called Alyssa more than my actual name. Infact I have been at my job for 2 years. I work in a small office with one other person. When I answer the phone I always say my name and YET, my co-worker still calls me Alyssa. I am just tired of correcting her. I am tired of correcting everyone. Every time I went into a classroom it was always the same. It would be time for roll call and everyone' name would be called. "Jessica", "here" "Ben", "here" and then "Alyssa" after making sure there wasn't an Alyssa in the class I would say "It's Elissa". I never got to say "here". I didn't want my daughter to go through that but I didn't want her to be named "Mary" either. So the job was left to my fiancé. Just days before our daughter was born he decided on a name. Sophia. I was afraid that it would be too "girly" and when I called my newborn daughter Sophia for the first time it was strange. She is one-year old now and I feel like she has really become "Sophia". Not because there is a certain personality that "Sophia's" should fit, but because she is developing into her own. Now I watch my sister struggle with naming her twins, who are due in September. She has a boy and a girl on the way and she is stumped on names. I hope she knows that their name will not define who they are.

Elissa aka Punk Rock Mom! I am the ultimate multi-tasker. My daughter, Sophia, just turned 1 and since she was about 4 months old has been coming to the office with me. I am a 28 year old and will be getting married in 24 days!

A Day Late and About Eight Short

2006-05-04T20:53:00.000-06:00

Because I am a complete lame-o who missed the Thursday Thirteen, I offer a lousy facsimlie in exchange. I'd like to announce the Mama! Mama! Friday Five. Why the Friday Five, you ask. Because the Friday Four just seemed a little half-assed and the Friday Fifteen seemed way too ambitious. So without further ado, I present to you

Five Things About My Taste (or Lack Thereof) In Music

1. I am a closet John Mayer fan. Not the sappy, whiny, pansy-boy you may be familiar with. Not the one who wrote the pile of rubbish "Your Body is a Wonderland"...which makes my skin crawl, and not it a good way. Oh no. The John Mayer. of The John Mayer Trio. The John Mayer who plays the white boy blues. On suggestion though, John-boy. Lose the scarf. No man looks sexy in a scarf. Unless it is John Corbett. and it is all he is wearing.

2. I have quite the ecclectic CD collection which includes, Rage Against the Machine, Operation Ivy, Harry Connick Jr., Gershwin, Muddy Waters, Norah Jones, and Laurie Berkner - which is the CD of choice for a certain someone under 4 feet tall everytime we get in the car.

3. I love Elvis (obviously) in an abnormal kind of way, but there are certain somgs of his that make me cringe and vomit just a little in my mouth. "Kissin' Cousins", being one of them.

4. Though exceptional music ability runs in my family, I play no instrument at all. Nothing. Not even the spoons. I probably should have taken advantage of my good genes. If I were to play an instrument it would be the drums.

5. No matter how badass and angst-ridden, and full of righteous anger singers like Avril Lavigne, Ashley Simpson (wretch), and Kelli Clarkson (eye roll) would like to think they are, they have nothing...nothing...Nuh. Thing. On Janis.

And as a bonus....In order to make up for my complete rudeness in neglecting to link visitors to my last two Thursday Thirteens, I would like to link to them now...including a few kind words about their blog.

First Chaotic Mom, who had this awesome picture of her son.

Mary, who also has ecclectic taste in music.

Undercover Angel, whose blog banner cracks me up everytime I see it.

Carmen, who had a recent Thirteen movie quotes. I love me some movie quotes.

Ames, who has lots of cool pictures on her blog.

Jane, who has awesome and inspiring pictures from Venezuela in her last Thirteen.

Courtney, who has great info on MS in her Thirteen.

Elle, who has another banner I just love.

Wystful1, had cool facts abput 13 for her Thirteen.

And thanks, of course, to Izzy, who always visits...even though I never update...and even though I still haven't updated my blogroll with her new site address. I suck. She does not.

May Blog Exchange - Mother May I?

2006-05-01T09:32:00.000-06:00

These posts are part of our May Blog Exchange on the theme Mother May I. Click around to read some of the other posts: Nancy, Vicki, Julie, Chase, Stacy, Christina, , Jen, Mabel, TB, Mel, Izzy, Mayberry Mom, Amy, and Laurie. If you’d like to participate in the June Exchange, please email Kristen at kmei26 at yahoo.com. Enjoy!

Please welcome Mabel from http://mabelsmuse.typepad.com.

My mother has been gone for more than 8 years now. Her absence has made me think more and more over the years about what my reaction to certain things will be if and when I have children of my own. There are days I think I'd be a great parent. Then there are the days I know my child would think (or rather know) that I'm the Antichrist, put on earth just to torment the living daylights out of him or her. Especially her. Heaven help if I ever have a daughter. I can just hear it now...

Mother? May I...

Get a tattoo?
Well, that would mean your a grown up now right? Well as a grown-up, the mortgage is due on the second, pay that and you can get a tattoo.

Have my boyfriend stay the night?
Sure... In the garage with your father, you're sleeping in my room with me.

Get my drivers license?
Has hell frozen over? Didn't think so...

Go away to college?
When you're Thirty. Five.

Maybe I'll relax a little, if and when the day comes. Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll end up one of those crazy mothers on Wife Swap who shares a bed with her 7 children aged 2-17 and never lets them out of her view. All I know is? I'd better have an unlimited supply of Prozac and Xanax when the "Mother May I"'s start....

And now we return to your regularly scheduled programming.

Today, Mel can be found over at my blog http://mabelsmuse.typepad.com. Thank you to Mel and to her readers for putting up with my random insanity.

No, Judgmental is Not My Middle Name.

2006-04-28T12:10:00.000-06:00

EDITED: I think my post is unclear. I AM a stay at home mom. I think that is the best choice for my family. I own my own business, but go in one day a week. All other work I do from home. I am not judging a mom for staying home. I am commenting on the fact that there is a breed of mom, who has no shred of personality left outside of their role as a mom.
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The blogging world has been abuzz with talks of the mommy wars and pleas of “can’t we all just get along,” – What kind of self-respecting Mama-blogger would I be if I didn’t put my two cents in on the whole issue. Actually, it is a situation I am faced with in my world of motherdom and I needed to rant, and thought I would tie it in with the whole mommy wars thing so I looked hip and current. Pretty slick, huh? Anyway….

I want to add a new twist on the whole thing. Since I have moved to this lovely little town, I have been confronted with a different type of mom. I’ll call her the Mom, with a capital “M”. I know this type of mom exists everywhere; I just have been smacked in the face with it as of late because it is so prevalent here.

Mom, with a capital “M” is the mom who exists only in her capacity as a wife and mother. She has no interests or personality value outside her role as matriarch of her little brood. She, of course stays at home with the kids, which I am all on board with… However…She is so totally absorbed into her role as a mother, that all other pieces of her fall away.

Her social life consists of MOPS group, Little League, and dance class. Conversations revolve around the next Mom’s Club function or which grocery store has ground beef on sale.

If I sound like I’m being overly judgmental, it’s because I am. But this kind of woman just irks me. I know being a true feminist is all about choices…. and choosing to be a homemaker is still a valid choice. I am not condemning that by any means. What I absolutely can’t stand to see is when a woman ceases to be a functioning member of society outside of her little family bubble. Be a homemaker, but take a class, volunteer, go out with child-free friends. Something. For goodness sake be who you were before you had kids – at least in some capacity.

And to put the final nail in my coffin…how long do you really think your husband will find you an interesting and stimulating friend and peer, if the only conversations you are holding are regarding Junior having soccer practice or Mary still not using the potty to go poop? Yeah, he should love you no matter what…blah, blah, blah. But get real. He fell in love with you because of your personality. When you sacrifice that at the altar of motherhood, you are doing both you and your family a disservice.

And on the other side of the coin…don’t shun me because I have a life outside of my kids. Why hold it against me that I am trying to work out a balance? So you think I sound bitter? Maybe, but I’m not. Because as nice as they are, conversations with a Capital M Mom are a struggle and social activities are downright painful. I prefer hanging out with women who are able to answer to something aside from “Mom!”

So while the Capital M Moms in my neighborhood feel quiet disdain for me, I feel pity for them. I’ll take disdain over pity any day.

Look at that. I finally update and it is all filled with judgment and self-righteousness. I hate to rain on the “we’re all moms, so let’s just support each other” parade, but the Stepford wives around here have really gotten under my skin. And I was due for a nice rant. It is very cleansing. So flame away. I can take it.

Holy Crap! An Update!

2006-04-19T23:42:00.000-06:00

Thirteen things that I have been doing when I should have been updating here.

1. Blowing my nose. Every. Five. Seconds. It is hard to type when you are walking around honking into a crumpled tissue like weird old Uncle Lou who wears his polyester, plaid pants pulled right up under his saggy man-boobs.

2. Schleping my daughter to work with me. We have all been passing around the same snotty, goopy, painful affliction. Whoever is oozing and wheezing the least goes into my store. When I go in, the small fry goes too. Man, do we get a lot of work done.

3. Trying to sell my store . Wanna' buy it? Really. You would be great at it. (I have a very promising candidate right now. I am soliciting prayers and the crossing of fingers, toes, and other crossable appendages. Oh please let it work out.)

4. My son's science fair project. It is due Friday. We have not exactly...um...done..anything yet. Crap.

5. Playing referee to two kids who are too sick to go to school, but too unsick to be home. Actual exchanges this week:

Daughter: Cough. Cough. Hack.

Son: COVER YOUR MOUTH! I don't want your stupid germs.

Daughter: DON'T YOU TALK TO ME!

Son: Cough. Wheeze. Hack.

Daughter: Cover your mouth.

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Daughter: (breathing)

Son: Stop it.

Daughter: (breathing)

Son: I said stop it.

Daughter: (More breathing)

Son: STOP IT!

Me: Hey! Stop yelling at your sister.

Son: But mom, she's snarfuling.

Snarfuling? I listened more carefully. She was snarfuling.

6. Getting our new website up and running. We are now finally taking credit cards. It only took two weeks of pleading and bargaining...cursing and cajoling with the credit card processing thing. You'd think they would have the process a little more streamlined seeing as that is WHAT THEY DO! Anywoo... (Don't you hate it when people type anywhoo. You know they never actually say it...why type it? Anywhoo..)

7. Tripping over my still unpacked suitcase from our visit back to CA. Add to that scrounging for something...anything...to wear, since I have not yet done my laundry. I'm about down to a pair of acid-washed jeans and a New Kids on the Block t-shirt.

8. Letting my brain be bipolar....My husband got a great job in CA. We can go home! Woo Hoo!...He starts July 15...how in the world will we sell my store...our house...move...Ack. I'm ecstatic. I'm freaked. I'm partying. I hyperventilatng.

9. Reading other blogs - the ones where people actually bother to stagger in and update every so often....unlike some other crappy blog I know of. <---me. I mean me.

10. Dieting. My husband and I have jumped on the Loose-my-big-fat-butt bandwagon. We are doing the age-old calorie counting diet. According to the formula I get like, a Triscuit and a grape for the whole day, a-la the Olsen twins. I blew my whole day yesterday by putting peanut butter on my english muffin. Those little packs of diet cookies and crakers with only 100 calories per pack are not half bad....especially, when you eat two or three packs with a Frappucino.

11. Procrastinating on a growing pile of emails I need to return. If you emailed me about a blog t-shirt and I didn't get back to you...I am not rude and inconsiderate. I promise. Just overwhelmed. I have all of the emails saved in a folder to respond to. I will do it soon. I will. Also the lovely lady who emailed me about living near my store and wanting to meet up for coffee. I have your email flagged to reply to also. I am not lame. Really.

12. Handing my daughter tissues. Or scraping crusty boogers off of her face. Or my shoulder. Yes, my life is just as glamourous as it sounds.

13. Awww, crap. I don't have a number thirteen...and it's late....and I'm tired (whine, sniffle)...so I will just insert a random fact for you to enjoy...
There are more chickens than people in the world. Discuss.

Happy Thursday Thirteen. Sorry I am an absentee blogger. I would promise to get better at updating, but you know from past experience, I lie!

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. ItÃ’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

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Death Becomes Her

2006-04-03T16:22:00.000-06:00

I have apparently contracted the Black Plague. I can't remember being this sick in quite some time. The kids, of course, are on Spring Break. That means I have both of them. Home. With me. All day. With me.

After a night of sleeping like I was buried alive while breathing through coffee stirrers, I got up to face the day. I stumbled downstairs, oozing my own weight in mucous, and quickly realized we (meaning me) had a problem. No food. No food during Spring Break. Bad. Very bad. Had I known I was going to fall victim to the Black Death I would have stocked up on fruit snacks. I flopped onto the couch and commenced with the moaning and nose blowing. Moan. Blow. Blow. Moan. Then the kids woke up.

I decided that this situation could be handled if I just sat my children down appealed to their sense of reason. After all, they are not savages and could clearly understand the gravity of the situation...what with the Grim Reaper lurking ominously behind me amid the piles of crumpled tissues.

"Kids, mommy is feeling pretty sick today. I am pretty much out of commission and will need you two to pitch in and help out. I know you guys can do this. I am really depending on you. I need your cooperation. I need you to help each other out and do for yourselves a lot today."

They nodded earnestly. See? No problem.

Five seconds passed.

"Mama, can you get me cereal?"
"I can't find my Gameboy game. I left it right here. Moooom! Can you help me!?"
Houston, we have a problem. Rotten kids.
Thus began the whining and pleading. And the kids were no picnic either.

I knew I was going to have to get my hands on some food...and decongestant. Lots of decongestant. I was forced to get dressed and drag out to the grocery store. The kids were offered the privilege of picking two snack items each if they could just cooperate and get us in and out of the store quickly. This lead to much switching and bartering.
"No, wait. I want to change my cereal for fruit by the foot"
"I don't want theeese. I want cookies."
With selections made and $30 worth of cold medicine in our cart, we made it to the checkout lane. The checkout lane which was decorated with all sorts of useless Easter basket filler crap. The useless Easter basket filler crap which was the root of my daughter's screaming fit. I slunk out of the store with a screaming 2 year old and tissue stuffed up one nostril. Ignoring the stares. Oh, like you have never had a day like this, you judgmental bastards. I breathe my Plague on you.

In the car, coming home, I explain to my little darlings that I will need them to help me bring in the groceries - 90% of which are snacks for them. My son brought in one bag. The bag with his cookies in it. My daughter unloaded a bag because it was too heavy. She carried in the empty shopping bag, leaving it's contents strewn about the garage. Little ingrates.

"Mom, can you open these?"
"No, as a matter of fact I can't - seeing as how I am dying."

They spent the next hour spilling cereal, goldfish crackers, and various juices all
over the kitchen while I attempted to remain conscious after my pounding my cocktail of cold medicines.

The natives were getting restless. Well, restless-er, more restless-er...you get the idea. My son began his wear mom down technique because he wanted to go out front and play with his friends. My daughter went in the backyard naked and refused to come in, despite my frantic waving of Princess panties. My son screamed at his sister and refused to comply when sent to his room. Leaving me chasing him around our yard, screaming threats like a lunatic. Finally, I caught up with him, planting the Vulcan death grip on the back of his neck, when a car passing slowed, and stopped, apparently hoping to intervene in my obvious abuse. Great. Just great.

The only way for this day to be saved is for me to take a shot of Nyquil, and pass out drooling, while dreaming of Matthew McConaughey spoon-feeding me soup and cleaning my house. Heck, who am I kidding, I'll settle for just the Nyquil.

Blog Exchange - Topic: New Beginnings

2006-03-31T22:59:00.000-07:00

It is time for the April blog exchange. I will be here today. Please welcome V from Spells With...

There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about ending it, moving on, starting fresh. There are moments that it feels like it will never be enough. There are times that I feel we are completely and utterly incompatible. I want to scream at you, "Do you know anything about who I am??? Do you care about me?? Do you care about anything that I do??" But I know the response will be blank. The hurt and offense in your eyes will block out anything that is recognizable to me.

And then there are the other moments. Those times when I feel like we fit like favorite old slippers; when we laugh and talk for hours and completely understand each other; when our differences compliment each other to form something whole and complete. There are days when I feel like every day with you will be spent growing and loving. Because not a day goes by that I can't imagine being with you until the end.

And I wonder how these moments can co-exist in the same relationship. I feel like they are beating on me, each trying to win me over with its seductive ways. The allure of being free from the tension, the anxiety, the over-sensitivity....wouldn't it be nice? And the magnetism of security. Feeling safe and secure and knowing that this is it.

So I wake up each morning, look at you fresh out of your shower, and decide to go on and to start fresh. Everyday I will struggle to keep us alive as long as I can also keep holding onto myself. Everyday is the day that I can make one thing better, and that one thing that could change everything, for better or for worse. I'll try to make it better. And I hope you will too.

(V detests bios, but loves her daughter, knitting, and a guy named N. She likes to blather on about all of these things at Spells With...

This post is part of a monthly blog exchange, held on the first of every month. We all write on a topic (this month is New Beginnings) and post on another person's blog as a way to gain new readers and find new blogging friends. This month's participants include: Christina (www.amommystory.blogspot.com), Kristen (www.motherhooduncensored.typepad.com), TB (www.soulgardening.typepad.com), Chase (www.tastetheworld.org), Mel (www.mamamamamaternity.blogspot.com), stacy (www.anothermommymoment.blogspot.com), Julie (www.mothergoosemouse.blogspot.com), Laurie (www.divinecalm.com), Mabel (www.mabelsmuse.typepad.com), and Vicki (www.knittingspells.blogspot.com). If you would like to participate, please email Kristen at kmei at yahoo dot com.

Bring Out Yer Dead!

2006-03-31T10:27:00.000-07:00

I'm not dead. I have been doing this.

Please stop in to check out April's blog exchange tomorrow. My guest writer is V from Spells With... Then we will be back to our regularly scheduled program - and I promise to update more frequently. Really.

Thursday Comes Around Quick, Doesn't It?

2006-03-23T09:42:00.000-07:00

Thirteen things that have kept me from freaking out and my head imploding in this lovely stressful week.

1. God.

2. Strawberry Twizzlers. Not the crappy cherry flavor. Strawberry. And they had better be soft.

3. This

4. And this.Oh. My. (Very sad that he died, but man, look at him.)

5. A lovely dream featuring Patrick Dempsey.

6. Our T-shirts are in from the printer to start our new business.

7. Maureen. The only nice human being in all of Colorado's complex tax system. Bless you.

8. Only 13 days until we go to CA to visit. Woot!

9. This boy.

10. This girl.

11. This lovely man.

12. The fact that my son's parent teacher conference involved the words "M is doing well in all areas. We do have one issue, though. He bumps into things on purpose" and his teacher reading me his career report - about how awesome it would be to be a pizza delivery man. Weird little guy. I love him.

13. The fact that my daughter is carrying aroung a stuffed snake she named Lenny...and a stuffed polar bear she named Mr. Polar-Bear-Guy. Lenny the snake is married to Mr. Polar-Bear-Guy and they have an octopus daughter named Lila.

Sorry it is boring, but my brain cells are working on an entry involving the sexual orientation of a certain farm animal. Stay tuned for that.

And sorry my pictures are all jacked up. I am an incompetent blogger, I know.

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. ItÃ’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

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Odds 'n' Ends - Emphasis on the ODDS

2006-03-21T21:27:00.000-07:00

As I was tucking my son in bed last night:
Son: "Mom, should I be a lawyer or a comedian when I grow up?"
Me: "Well, why don't you be both? A lawyer during the day and a comedian at night?"
Son: "Hmmm. Oh yeah.....or maybe I'll just be a lounge singer."
Me: Blink. Blink. BWAHAHAHA!

Talking on speakerphone to my MIL who just had liposuction:
MIL: "I have these little holes that fluid is coming out of."
Me: "Ewww. You're leaking!"
MIL: "Yes, and have to wear a girdle."
Me: ::Cringe:: "A girdle and leaking. Sounds lovely."
Daughter grabbing phone: "Grandma! Your turtle is leaking????"

Going through drive thru window with kids bickering in backseat:
Daughter: bouncing her brother's stuffed dog on lap.
Son: "Don't do that with my dog!"
Daughter: continues bouncing toy.
Son: "I said don't! It will hit you in the junk!"
Daughter just as 16yo drive thru guy hands me food: "I DON'T HAVE A JUNK! I. HAVE. A. BAH-GYNA!"
Me to drive thru guy: "Yes she does. Well, thanks. Bye."

To those sweet people who have asked - As of Friday, the company where my husband interviewed said they have not yet made a decision, but were still very interested in him for the position. They gave no new time frame, which means my head imploding from stress is imminent. Will keep you updated. And thank you for asking.

Suburban Bliss

2006-03-21T20:48:00.000-07:00

I'm still here.

Have you ever had a day that you felt like you were living someone else's life and it creeped you out? The day I am speaking of happened to me last week. It was a day that was so Typical Suburban Mom it made me break out into a rash and start designing my next tattoo.
It went like this:
Get up. Get son's lunch packed (peanut butter and jelly with the crust cut off, cut in half diagonally).
Get son to school.
Take daughter to Dr.
Drive through McDonald's to feed my daughter.
Shoot over to drive through pharmacy to get her prescription.
Run home to get forgotten backpack.
Take daughter to preschool.
Go home eat lunch and answer email while doing laundry.
Pick up daughter - with snack.
Pick up son.
Go to crafty store to procure items to turn my son into Abe Lincoln for his report - DUE TOMORROW.
Go home. Get kids snack.
Make dinner.
Write son's...help son with report.
Showers, PJ's, bed.
Assemble Honest Abe costume out of styrofoam ring, black poster board, and some freakish black furry stuff (beard). Dig white button up shirt out of laundry pile for Mr. Lincoln. Sniff shirt. Good enough.
Fall into bed.
Cringe when I realize I did it all in a mommy track suit. You know the one.

How did I get here? Is a minivan inevitable? No. I'd rather die. Don't even start telling me how you didn't want a minivan either, but now you love yours. Nope. Ain't happening. I never envisioned myself in the role of suburban mom, but look. Look at my life. I'm not going down easy though. Oh no. My tattoo is not only designed, but my appointment scheduled. I gave the kids cookies for breakfast and candy before dinner. I can not be domesticated. Oops...there's the dryer buzzer. Gotta' go!

Blog Goulash

2006-03-13T10:53:00.000-07:00

Thank you to all of you who have asked about my husband's job interview. He is supposed to hear back the beginning of this week....which I take to mean today or tomorrow, because Wednesday would be mid-week, right? Right? Right?

My kids are mostly over whatever disease they had this time. They both have a lingering cough that makes me wish I hadn't started them on Marlboro menthols so early. Should have stuck with the ultra lights, but they just don't go as well with the whiskey.*

*Disclaimer - of course I do not give my kids tobacco or alcohol. I wouldn't want it to impair their ability to help me make the meth.

Our house is completely torn to bits, as we are now playing the home version of "Sell This House". We are packing up boxes of unnecessary crap to be put into storage, so that when a potential buyer comes to see our house, they do not think "Wow! Look at all of this unnecessary crap!" We are hauling off enough noisy, multi-colored plastic to start our own toy store from my son's room alone. Eight year old packrat. We joke that someday he is going to be one of those people you see on TV. You know, the one with the house that is completely stuffed with newspapers from 1997 and bits of wrapping paper, so that there is only a narrow trail winding through the piles of clutter.

On a completely random note...My daughter, the play dough freak, is currently sculpting away at the table. "Mommy look," she exclaims, holding up a round blob with a little wormy thing sticking off of it, "I made M's [my son] junk!" Snort. I told you my children are not normal. Did I mention she also draws aliens? No, I did not use drugs while I was pregnant.

So that is all from here. Nothing fascinating, but thought I'd better update.

Thirteen things you need to know about Mel so you can die at peace with the world.

2006-03-09T09:41:00.000-07:00

Thirteen things you need to know about Mel so you can die at peace with the world.
1. I am addicted to looking at Google Earth with my son. We look at everything. The Great Wall of China, Venice, Manhattan, our old neighborhood…way cool.

2. I gave birth to my daughter with no meds. With my oldest I had an epidural. The recovery from the birth with no meds was waaay better. Way. I’m not militant. It didn’t make me feel empowered…it made me feel a little proud and able to sit without feeling like there were fish hooks in my pants.

3. I hate the smell of Doritos unless I am the one eating them.

4. I am a Converse Chuck Taylor Allstar junkie. I have around 20 pairs. At the Converse website you can design your own. Oh yeah.

5. I am teaching myself web design out of necessity. I did my store's site…which sucks and still needs a ton of work. I am working on the site for our new t-shirts now. I know no HTML at all. None. I do almost all of it in Photoshop and drop it in. I have an awesome hosting service. If anyone would like to take over my webdesign for free, let me know. :)

6. I love football, boxing, and UFC fighting. I surprised my husband with tickets to a UFC event in Vegas last year. It was awesome. I HATE basketball and college football.

7. My cell phone plays “Sweet Home Alabama”

8. I Tivo old episodes of Dharma and Greg.

9. I love this site. I have an Insanity Prawnboy Shirt.

10. When I turn off the light at night I take a big leap into my bed so nothing scary grabs my ankles. Shut up.

11. I have been craving white chocolate ice cream with M&M’s from Coldstone for weeks. I haven’t gotten a chance to go. It is killing me.

12. I think feet are gross. I don’t like seeing feet on commercials. Man feet are the worst. Hairy toes. Ewwww.

13. I hate doing random lists like this because they lack closure. I like closure. The end.

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. ItÃ’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

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Some Clarification

2006-03-07T13:15:00.000-07:00

If you are here from Diary of the Nello, thanks for stopping in. How sweet is Kelly? The blog fodder tees are not available in my online store. They were a first for Kelly. If you would like one, I would be happy to make one for you. They range from $9.99 to $14.99 depending on the style you choose + shipping. You can leave me a comment with your email or email me at info@MamaMamaMaternity.com and I'll go from there. Thanks.

A Big, Heaping, Steaming Pile Of....

2006-03-06T15:23:00.000-07:00

Kelly at Diary of the Nello does the Friday Wrap over at her blog, and I've loosely used that as the basis for this entry. Does it count as stealing if I mutilate it so badly it is unrecognizable? If it does, I'll have to live with myself, and extend my apologies to Kelly...wait, I think I'll apologize to her anyway for the warped representation of her good idea about to follow....

I present to you The Calgon-Take-Me-Away-Crappy-Happenings-Update. Catchy name, huh?

For those of you playing along at home, my husband is in CA for his big interview. It started at 9:00. It is 3:30 CA time and he is still interviewing. Good sign, right? But killer on my nerves.

My husband left for said interview Saturday afternoon, to spend a leisurely weekend visiting with family on someone else's dime. Good plan except for the fact that both kids came down with some hideous disease that involved a 104 degree fever, sore throat, cough, and upset stomach. My son has not left his room since Thursday night. No kidding. Well, there was the one very pitiful forced shower to wash the blue hair gel out of his hair (he dressed as Thing 1 from The Cat in the Hat for a Dr. Suess's birthday celebration at school.) But other than to use the bathroom, he has not budged since Thursday. I go in and roll him over every so often to prevent bedsores.

My daughter is dealing with her illness a little differently. As in...I can not leave her side for one tiny, millisecond to do anything, EVER. Fun times. After I got her all tucked in, fully doped up, she appeared in my room at 12:30 AM feeling rather awful. We were up nursing her fever and sick tummy until 7:30 AM. Yes, you read that right. We then took a catnap until 9:15 AM and got up to face the day. As you can imagine, we are both coping spectacularly.

My son finally made a request for some real food today: Taco Bell. Which he ate still laying prostrate in his bed. When I checked on him a bit later, he was laying practically on top of his remaining food...just as I knew he would be.
"Honey, why are you laying in the food. You could have cleaned it up, you know."
His reply "I didn't know what to do with it."
And recuperating on it seemed like the best plan. Oh my sweet, lazy, lazy boy.

I have also written and mailed my letter to straighten out a huge tax mess, started to work on financial statements to sell my store, and been insulted by the person doing the screenprinting for the T-shirt company we are starting. I don't enjoy being insulted by people I am paying. I don't enjoy being insulted on less than two hours of sleep.

Amidst all the fun I've been having my husband calls.
"Hey, well, we just got out of church and now we're off to get some lunch. Then we are going to go watch the Pay-per-View UFC fight my brother recorded. What are you up to?"
"Oh, you know, the usual. Haven't showered in two days or eaten since yesterday. Wearing a t-shirt that says 'Nothing Tips Like a Cow - Wisconsin' that is covered with the sticky purple Tylenol your daughter refused to swallow."
"Oh. Well, I'll give you a call after lunch."
"Maybe you better not."
"What?"
"Oh, I just mean go..uh..enjoy yourself." Forced chuckle.
"Oh. Alright. Bye."
"Bye."

So here I sit, with a house that looks like a mobile home park after a tornado, one semi-sick kid, one apparently bedridden kid, a needy dog, and still no interview news. I will update when the situation changes.

The Bah-gyna Monologues

2006-03-03T10:10:00.000-07:00

Okay, so the day arrived where I was forced to share the proper terms for genitalia (cringe, hack) with my daughter.

"Mommy, I have a junk."

"No, honey, girls don't have junk. You have a Vah-Gi-Nah. Girls have a Vah-Gi-Nah. Boys have a Peee-Nis." (Call me a prude, but the technical terms just ...well, ewww is all.)

"I have a Bah-Gyna?"

"Yes, you have a vagina. Moving on then..."

"Mommy?

"Yes?"

"Daddy has a Bah-Gyna." Giggle. Giggle.

Snort. "Funny. Nope daddy has a penis."

"Bah-gyna. Bah-gyna. Bah-gyna."

"Right. Okay. Let's get the shampoo out of your hair."

"Mommy. Knock. Knock."

"Who's there?"

"Pony."

"Pony who?"

"Pony purple." (She is a knock, knock joke master, no?)

"Ah Haha Haha. Good one, hon."

"Mommy. Knock, knock"

Sigh. "Who's there?"

"Bah-Gyna." Giggle. Giggle.

"Vagina who?" Deep sigh.

"Bah-Gyna Peeenis!"

And so begins her career in stand up.

"Okay, mommy has a joke for you now."

"Okay."

"A vagina walks into a bar. Sits down next to a rabbi and a priest..."

"Hey!" My husband interjects from the other room. "Okay. Joke time is over. Time for bed."

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"You have a Bah-Gyna."

Thursday Already?

2006-03-01T22:13:00.000-07:00

Thirteen reasons I'm ready to move back to CA.

1. I was in traffic school and the talk about road rage made me feel all sentimental.

2. The clean air here is killing me. I need air I can sink my teeth into.

3. I'm not a card carrying member of PETA or anything, but the amount of hunters around here makes me want to put some red paint on the Home Depot card and start throwing.

4. Flip flops year round baby.

5. In CA I can get a pizza delivered to my front door whenever I want it...not at 5:30, take it or leave it.

6. Without spending hours stuck in traffic, I am losing my mastery of the more colorful expressions in the English language.

7. The beach. Sure I never went, but if for some reason, I got a wild hair and decided I wanted to, it was there.

8. Disneyland. What? It is the happiest place on Earth you know.

9. I haven't seen anyone carrying a ridiculous purse dog dressed in an outfit that costs more than mine in 9 months.

10. Call me a bad neighbor, but I miss the 6 foot privacy fences. I do not need to chat while I stand outside in my PJ's watching the dog take a crap.

11. We'd be up one babysitting grandma. I forget what it's like to go out to dinner.

12. El Torito, Rubio's, Pick Up Stix, In "n" Out, Togo's...Ahhhh, the food. Beautiful food.

13. It's where I met my husband. It's where we dated. It's where he proposed. It's where my babies were born. It's where they took their first steps. It's where we had our first apartment. First house. First everything. Memories...from the corners of my mind....Sniff. Sniff.

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. ItÃ’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Blog Exchange

2006-02-28T22:51:00.000-07:00

I am participating in blog exchange. Eight of us volunteered to trade up blogs for a day. The topic is what it means to be a woman or a variation thereof. C.M.Chase from Taste the World is my guest writer. Her awesome entry is found below, as "I Ain't No June Cleaver, Yo". It definitely is an improvement to the crap writing you usually get around here. My entry can be found at her blog. Pay her a visit and check it out.

I Ain't June Cleaver, Yo

2006-02-28T22:45:00.000-07:00

When I heard the topic of the blog exchange, ‘what it means to be a woman,’ my first thought was somewhere along the lines of “oh lord in heaven, I’m SO not the person to write about what it means to be a woman.” I spent a couple of days pondering what I thought it meant to be a woman - and all the typical womanly issues came up. I thought of words like feminism, strength, dedication and soul. I wrote out a couple of lovely drafts, discussing how, despite our differences, we are all one in our feminism. Then I read those drafts and thought “Ugh - what a load of crap!”

So I thought I’d introduce myself to you all with what being a woman means to me. First of all, I’ve never once said the word ‘feminism’ out loud. I own the company I work for, which is a construction-based company, so I know all about making my own way in a male-dominated world, but I’m certainly not a burn-my-bra type of person. (If you saw my boobs, you’d know I NEED that bra.) I don’t do lipstick (gloss only, please), I don’t wear make-up most days, I will NOT wear pantyhose, I’d rather bite my nails than clip them, I prefer wearing ball caps, and I can’t remember the last time I put on a dress.

When our mothers were young – when I was young, you didn’t hear women saying they didn’t care about the frilly stuff. Because, really, they did. They wanted the newly painted house in ‘burbs, the three polished kids, the always-ironed skirt, the perfect hairdo. Nay, they needed those things – they were supposed to have those things. Heck, to this day, my grandmother irons everything everyday like a good little housewife – even her and her hubby’s pajamas. Because that’s what women do. And, how does my grandmother feel about the fact that I’m not married and don’t have kids at 30? Yeah, we won’t even go there.

The more women I hear open up, the more I find they, more often than not, feel the same way I do – and the more this whole ‘typical’ thing is becoming less and less. I find a lot of women now who don’t want the whole marriage-and-kids thing. And women who are married and have children are losing the Betty Crockerness that used to be, thank goodness. Heck, we admit now that we fart, we don’t shave everyday, we have ingrown toenails, and we pick gunk out of our teeth with our fingernails and don’t think twice about wiping it on our pants!

To me, this is what it means to be a woman – it means being real. It means being a human with flaws and annoying habits and smelly feet and uneven boobs. It means laughing at ourselves because at least we think we’re funny. It means not looking our best all the time and being just fine with that. And it certainly means not ironing our pajamas because we’re just going to pass out in them with a tub of Ben & Jerry’s on our lap anyway.

But mostly, being a woman means being truly honest about who we are, not who others think we need to be. But…um…don’t tell my grandma I said that other stuff, ok? She’s still upset about the kids thing.

. . . . . . . . . .

Written by C.M.Chase at www.tastetheworld.org.

Today's forecast: slightly crabby with a chance of fits.

2006-02-28T14:59:00.000-07:00

My daughter is in rare form today. She is cranky. I mean head-spinning, pea-soup-spitting cranky. The kind of bad attitude that makes you want to put the cereal on a shelf where she can reach it and head for the hills. She is a hormonal teenager trapped in a teensy two year old body.

She was helping me empty the dishwasher and wanted to put the soap in. I told her to hold on. She needed to put the last two cups away first. She stormed across the kitchen and muttered. "Affanculo!" For those who don't know, that is pretty much the equivalent of "F- You!" in Italian.
"Hey! That is not a nice word!" I said.
She turned and looked at me like I still needed help tying my own shoes and said, "I. Know."
Well then.
Where does a two year old get a potty mouth like that? Must be the parenting. Losers. In her defense, she has no idea what it means. I am Italian and use it when a situation warrants it, (like when we have no chocolate in the house) for the very reason, that she doesn't know what it means...nor do most people in the checkout line at the grocery store, thankfully. My extended family, however, does know what it means, which should make for some entertaining moments at our reunion this summer. I can hardly wait.

My only consolation is that she has preschool today. Sure it's only for two measly hours, but still. Ahhhhh. Quiet. She can inflict her wrath on her two saccharine sweet preschool teachers. I'm counting down the minutes. In fact, the way she is acting now, I may not even stop the car. Just cruise on by at a slow roll and boot her little behind out of her carseat. Tuck and roll, honey. Tuck and roll.

Before you get your panties all in a wad...of course, I am joking. I would never push my daughter out of a moving car. If you want to call child welfare for something, that is not it. Now if you want to call about the fact that my son once went 7 days straight without bathing or my daughter once ate her dinner off the floor like a dog*....well, I can't blame you there.

*Disclaimer: It was her choice. It was out of her bowl on her placemat. It was cereal. Trix. The low sugar version. Okay? Are you happy? Sheesh.

If You Can't Beat 'Em....

2006-02-27T22:57:00.000-07:00

Here is my "things that annoy me" moment of the day...I was informed by an acquaintance that if I had joined some groups or socialized more, that I would like living where I am and not be homesick. Interesting theory I suppose, but it has one fatal flaw. I didn't join groups in California either, and yet managed to be happy where I was. I am not a joiner. I do not join groups. I never have.
One of the groups she was referring to was Mom's Club. I was part of a Mom's Club once. I stuck around long enough to find two people I liked hanging out with, who remain my close friends today. Then I bailed. I had nothing in common with any of the women involved - aside from the fact that I was a breeder. That doesn't make the conversation all that fascinating. How many Mom's Night Outs can you spend chatting about how Junior won't use the potty or little Janie is still waking up twice a night at 13 months old? Call me anti-social, but I can think of a million things I would rather get a babysitter for. Don't get me wrong, I am not against Mom's Clubs, and I would never knock moms commiserating with other moms. I just refuse to believe that it has to be done in well-organized packs.

What is it with women and the need to join things? You don't see this trait half as much in men. When was the last time you saw a gaggle of men headed off to the restroom together? Any men having a Pampered Chef party in your town? I'm thinking no. Is the need to travel in clumps part of the female genetic makeup? If so, I guess I'm missing that gene.

I may sound a little bitter and cranky. It just irks me for it to be implied that my overwhelming urge to fill a suitcase with clean underwear and start hitchhiking back to CA could be somehow cured by hosting playgroup. Bah. That is all.

What the...?

2006-02-25T22:27:00.000-07:00

Since I am a bit of a moron at this blogging thing, I have a dilemma that has been bugging me for quite awhile now. How do I respond to people who write things in my comments? Do I comment back? Do they ever go back to check? Will they ever see it? Do I email them...which is a very time consuming process using blogger. I have come up with a solution...albeit a crappy one. I will respond in this entry. See? Crappy. Crappy but effective.

On the Ratner or Damone question from Izzy. Ratner, of course. Damone was only pseudo cool and we all remember the disappointing performance in the poolhouse.

About my husband's job offer, also from Izzy. - We have some good news. The dream company that my husband had the phone interview for is flying him out for a real interview. They are paying for the flight and hotel. Woo hoo. They want him to come talk to their relocation person to help smooth any transition from moving. Sounds promising, yeah? He has his interview this Monday. They told him that he would be spending the better part of the day there. Also sounds good. I guess there is still a chance it could all go seriously wrong. Will keep you posted.

Thank you all for your nice comments on my Thursday Thirteen. I do have my mom moments. More often than not, though, I feel like a grumpy, naggy mom. So the comments were cool.

There were more questions but they all went back more than a week. The asker probably doesn't even remember asking or care about the answer anymore. I promise I am not lame like that. I just can't operate a blog.

On another note...this entry sucks because there is something quite stressful going on in my life at this time. (Aside from and in conjunction with the job and move). Every brain cell I have is consumed with stress on top of anxiety on top of the uncontrollable desire to ram a spork in my eye. Hopefully by Monday I will have some of it sorted out and will be able to type something coherent.

Thursday Thirteen for my Inner Child

2006-02-22T16:17:00.000-07:00

Thirteen reasons I am not mature enough to be a parent.

1. I bought my own box of crayons and hid them so I wouldn't have to share.

2. I pray every night for a snow day.

3. When someone picks on my daughter, my first thought is "kick him in the junk".

4. I often end conversations with my son with the words "Okay, fine. You're right then...Except that you're not!"

5. I wish the school would lay off with that whole attendance/tardy record thing.

6. I regularly eat cookies and soda for breakfast.

7. My kids ask me to turn my music down.

8. I loves me some Play Dough.

9. When I made my kids' Valentine's Day cupcakes, I licked the beaters...then ate four cupcakes.

10. I think it's funny to sneak up on my husband and attack him with crappy karate moves proclaiming "I am a ninja!" Sometimes I do it in slow motion and become "Really slow ninja!" of course.

11. I am jealous of my kids' stuff. When was the last time I got a gift this cool?

12. If given the chance, I would totally spend all of my money on makeup and junk food.

13. I often stop and look around and wonder exactly whose life I am in. Who the heck thought it was okay for me to be responsible for other human beings?!?

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1. Collecting My Thoughts
2. Reflections of a Not So Ordinary Mom
3. Mental Excrements
4. The Idle Receptionist
5. Diary of the Nello
6. Musings from the Edge
7. The Purple Giraffe
8. Lazy Daisy Log
9. fefyfomanna
10. Shelli's Sentiments
11. The Shizzle
12. Whiskey Talking
13. Shake It Like a Polaroid Picture
14. Musings from the Edge
15. Snickerdoodles
16. Peanut Tales
17. Confessions of a Busy Mom

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. ItÂs easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Why I Don't Sell Them to Traveling Gypsys...

2006-02-22T16:03:00.000-07:00

My daughter (2 and a half) is currently scrubbing my kitchen. She pulled out all of the canisters and wiped them all down. Took all of the spices out of the spinny holder thing (I am so familiar with the kitcheny terms) and wiped them all down and put them back. She did it...for fun. I told you my kids are FREAKS. I wonder if she scrubs showers too?

Hold those gifts. The pity party has been postponed...

2006-02-22T15:33:00.000-07:00

My husband had his phone interview today. It seems to have gone well. They would like him to fly out to CA for an interview. That sounds promising. They said they had several other candidates. That sucks. But flying out for an interview doesn't seem like something they would do for a big maybe. We'll see. Now my fate is in the hands of a human resources lady who is supposed to call my husband to set up the day for him to fly out. How long does that take usually? A day? A few days? Weeks? Argh.

Right now my husband is freezing his butt off in a state whose only claims to fame are cheese and Brett Farve. And I'm here in "mommy. mommy! mama. mom! Mah-Meee! I neeeeed you!" hell. I swear both of the kids are getting NyQuil tonight (got any to spare, Nello?) because I need a freakin' (or foreskin) break. I. Need. A. Break.

So, now if anyone can tell me what the timeline is for this hiring crap, I would appreciate it. I have been through it before but can't seem to find the memory of the experience for reference...what with all the anxiety clogging my neurons. Or if you can't help with that...anyone know someone who would like to be the new owner of a great, little maternity and children's boutique in Colorado?

Just Call Me Freaky McFreakout

2006-02-21T18:25:00.000-07:00

The kids are back in school (Hallelujah). Which leaves me with nothing fascinating to write about. Unless of course, you want to hear about the two hours I spent scrubbing out my refrigerator. No? Mmmmkay.....how about me compiling a grocery list for my dreaded trip to hunt and gather? You sure? We're down to only condiments, so it's a pretty good one. Fine. Then I got nothing.

My husband is on day 2 in beautiful Wisconsin. Which means, as far as the kids are concerned, it's all me - all the time. The twitching in my eye started earlier than expected. I was awakened in the middle of the night by not one, but both of the kidlets last night. My son's stomach hurt. My daughter had a bad dream. I had no dreams at all because I didn't freakin' sleep. Is it Friday yet?

My husband has his phone interview tomorrow. What interview, you ask? The interview with the kick ass, dream company tomorrow. The interview that determines our entire future. No drama there. I have commenced with the freaking out. By 2:00 tomorrow, I will either be doing the happiest happy dance you have ever seen or wallowing in a big, steaming pile of misery. Stay tuned.

80's MeMe

2006-02-21T18:14:00.000-07:00

MeMe from Kristen at Motherhood Uncensored.

My 80's alter ego is Stacy Hamilton from Fast Times at Ridgemont High....well, minus the abortion. Crappy job. Pretty friend. Slept with a loser. Liked dorks.

Looked pretty much like her...but with a little more makeup.

Anarchy

2006-02-17T11:39:00.000-07:00

"Still snowbound. Rations are running low. Very low. Dangerously low. The troops are starting to lose it. I don't know how much longer I can maintain order. The look in their eyes scares me. They are arguing amongst themselves. It has gotten violent. Our only hope is for the weather to break soon. Need reinforcements and food immediately to keep order..."

Some genius at my son's school decided to combine the useless Presidents' birthday holidays into a four day weekend. Great idea, Jackhole.

I have both kids trapped here all day. I really should have gone to the grocery store before our little blizzard here. Blows were thrown over the last fruit roll up.

I can't even order a freakin' pizza because no Dominoe's or Pizza Hut delivers to my podunk hole of a town. Well, one does. But only once a day...at 5:30. And you have to order by 4:30. That doesn't help me now, does it?

Somebody bring me a damn pizza.

On a positive note, my husband just got called. He has a phone interview for the job that could be my (our) ticket home. Yeee Hahhh!

On a side note: Every time I write the word "freakin'" in an entry, the spell check offers to replace it with "foreskin". That would really mess with the context of things, wouldn't it? A foreskin pizza. Tasty. Thanks, but no thanks.

One more note: Nothing really, I just realized I had overly "noted" at the end there, and thought I'd add another.

Edited to add: To compound my misery, the doorbell rings. The kids freak out with excitement. It is UPS bringing a package. The box has the word "toys" written on it in huge letters on four sides. I kid you not. My kids are in hysterics. One problem. The package is not for us. Bastards. The UPS guy (who was wearing shorts, WTF?)dragged his ass out into the snow to screw up my day. Thankyouverymuch.

The package is for the previous owner of our house. It may "become" ours by the end of the day. So sue me. Desperate times, you know.

Thursday Thirteen

2006-02-16T11:20:00.000-07:00

Thirteen Things that BLOW...and by blow, I mean to suck and/or annoy, not to expel air.

1. Waiting. For anything. It blows.

2. Leaving the house when it is all cold and snowy.

3. Getting gas in the snow. Blows.

4. My dog is in heat. No, she is not fixed. Shut up. She is wearing a doggie diaper. I have to change her pads. No kidding. It blows.

5. At 29 years old, having to get up for school (to take my son). I put in my time. No one mentioned I'd have to do it all over again...for another 12 years. Blows.

6. My husband has to go to work in Wisconsin for two weeks. I hate his freakin' job. Refer entry below regarding job...refer to number one above regarding waiting. No offense to those in Wisconsin, but...it blows.

7. Wet socks. They do, indeed, blow.

8. Living somewhere where there is no good food for miles and everything closes at 8:00. Does everyone go to sleep at nine and get up at the buttcrack of dawn?!? You blow.

9. Taxes. Corporate taxes are even worse. But they all blow.

10. Exercise. Even if you find something that you can tolerate. It. Still. Blows.

11. Not having my laptop. Monumentally blows.

12. Blogger. I lost this entry three times and had error messages all day. Don't they know I'm at work and actually have access to a computer?!? Hmph. You blow.

13. Trying to write an interesting Thursday Thirteen and only coming up with this. I blow.

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. ItÂs easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

A Little Bit of This...A Little Bit of That

2006-02-14T22:42:00.000-07:00

I haven't been able to get here lately because of my laptop being gone, but also because things are so hectic and scattered. I'm finding it hard to put a coherent thought together when I do get a chance to get to a computer. I don't normally blog about my daily life because, well, who wants to read about my daily life? That is my thought anyway...which was confirmed by my husband who said "I don't get the blog thing. Why would people want to read about someone else's daily life? And why would people want to share details of their lives with total strangers?"

But then I got to thinking. I do like hearing about other people's daily lives. Those whose lives are similar to mine...those whose lives are very different. I am interested to hear that Kristen is pregnant or that Kelly is nervous about starting a business. I don't know why I enjoy peeking into the lives and thoughts of others, (probably because I am nosy) but I do.

So, because I can't see around my life to blog...I will have to blog about my life. And hope that one or two of you are as nosy as I am and will stick around to read it.

We moved to Colorado from California almost nine months ago. In that nine months, I have spent nearly every waking minute plotting ways to return to CA to visit. We have taken three trips back. I count down obsessively to each trip...and start the whole process again the day we arrive home. I was told that moving to a new place like this takes some time to adjust to...even a year. I, however, don't seem to be adjusting. I am horribly homesick. Colorado is a lovely place, but it is not home.

My husband has found a very good job opportunity that could take us back CA. Now I am in panic mode. I want so much for this job to work out because it means going home...but it's everything that goes along with it that is killing me. The waiting to hear about an interview and things. Whether or not he gets the job. If he does, selling our house. Houses take FOREVER to sell here. And my store. What in the world do I do about my store? Can I sell it? Can I find the right person to buy it? Not to mention dragging my family back across the country. But, oh, to be home. Now we are waiting. Waiting for everything. I HATE waiting. So basically now the energy my brain spends scheming for my next trip back is split into fragments. One part hope, one part pleading, one part sheer terror...and a whole buttload of anxiety.

So there. It doesn't exactly make for riveting reading, but it sure clears some of the thoughts running around in my head. It puts them out there. I like them better out there than inside. I can't guarantee the next few weeks of blogging being anymore than scattered thoughts and recounting my daily activites. That is about all of the action my brain can hang with right now.

Special Double Birthday Edition Thursday Thirteen!

2006-02-09T09:53:00.000-07:00

Thirteen things I want for my birthday and Bonus Thirteen Reasons birthdays are better when you are a kid.

Thirteen Things I Want for My Birthday

1. A down comforter (I am a sorry excuse for vegetarian, am I not?)

2. A haircut by someone who knows what they are doing.

3. A nice dinner at The Melting Pot or Benihanna's.

4. Weekly maid service.

5. The third season of Northern Exposure on DVD.

6. A new tattoo.

7. This awesomeWillie T-shirt.

8. A subscription to Cosmo.

9. To sleep in as late as I want.

10. More of this makeup that I can't live without.

11. A manicure and pedicure.

12. A nice stay at the Bed & Breakfast we stayed at for our honeymoon and anniversaries. In this
room.

13. The house to myself.

Thirteen Reasons Birthdays are Better When You Are a Kid

1. You get to be king or queen for the day...which involves wearing a paper crown. Where the heck is my crown? Maybe I'll dig my wedding tiara out of the box and wear it around today.

2. Cupcakes. You take cupcakes to school to celebrate. I woke up this morning...not a cupcake in sight. Not one.

3. People care what you want. "What would the birthday girl like to have for dinner today?" No one asked this birthday girl what she wanted for dinner. As a matter of fact, I think I am responsible for making dinner.

4. Presents are way cooler...and you get more. I think I'll take a Lite Brite this year.

5. You not only appreciated the "one to grow on" candle added to your cake, but there was actually room for it.

6. Cool party decorations. My house is decorated for my birthday...in laundry that needs folded and dishes to wash.

7. When you opened a birthday card and shook it for money, people thought it was cute. Now apparently, it's "tacky".

8. You actually thought the wish you made when you blew out the candles would come true if you didn't tell anyone what you wished for.

9. People sang "Happy Birthday" like they meant it.

10. You were excited to graduate from using half years. "I'm 10 and a half!" I think I'd like to stick with 28 and a half, thanks.

11. You thought 16 was old, and 21 was something so far away, you thought you would be flying in Jetson cars by then.

12. Cake shaped like your favorite character. I'll take mine shaped like John Corbett or Tim McGraw this year.

13. One birthday was barely over before you were planning the next one.

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. ItÂs easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

The End of the World as I Know It

2006-02-07T14:43:00.000-07:00

My laptop is down. Needs to be shipped back to Dell. Gasp. I won't have it back until the end of Feb. Double gasp.

So as not to appear as if I have fallen off the planet for the three of you who read this....I will still post every two days. Borrowing my husband's pc. Sigh.

Don't forget me in my absence. The internet world moves so fast...Sigh. Weep. Moan.

Woo Hoo!

2006-02-06T08:10:00.000-07:00

Thursday Thirteen

2006-02-02T09:07:00.000-07:00

Thirteen Random things about Mel. Not very exciting, but I have been busy.

1. I have 2 tattoos, but have been tattooed 4 times. Two are covers.

2. I worked as a waitress at IHOP right out of high school. I still can't stand pancakes.

3. I gave birth to an 11 lb. 3 oz. baby. No, he was not a C-section.

4. I went to school to be an American Sign Language interpreter. I quit one semester away from getting certified.

5. I'm Italian, but don't cook. Shocking, I know. I can make a good lasagna...every three years or so.

6. I once totaled a complete stranger's car offroading it. Did you know a car's axle can snap in half?

7. I grew up in a town called Grapeville. The fire department has purple fire trucks. Half of the population was related to me. No, there was no inbreeding.

8. Speaking of inbreeding...I have lived in a mobile home on more than one occasion. I do not currently.

9. I can put my leg behind my head. I used to be able to put both legs behind my head, but I am old.

10. I won a $50 scholarship for community college once. Kick ass.

11. I am vegetarian, but eat my own body weight in junk food daily.

12. My husband and I are in the process of starting our own T-shirt company. We should be ready to go next month. I want to sell millions of shirts, so I can pay or my trips back to CA.

13. My husband has worked at Fender guitars and built robots. I have been a receptionist and sold shoes.

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1. Jaded Sunburns
2. Reflections of a Not So Ordinary Mom
3. Killired
4. The Idle Receptionist
5. Diary of the Nello
6. Musings from the Edge
7. Ramblings of a Working Wife and Mom
8. Rough Draft
9. fefyfomanna
10. the notorious M.O.M.
11. Kate Rothwell
12. Confessions of a Busy Mom

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. ItÂs easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

And So It Begins...

2006-02-01T10:28:00.000-07:00

Pounds to lose:10
Pounds already lost:0
Exercise done: Tahitian Cardio - 45 minutes, all 3 10 minute workouts on Cardio Kickboxing
Surplus Food Crammed In My Piehole: 6 cupcakes. No kidding. I don't use frosting though...that has to count for something, right?

So I got my exercise DVD's in the mail yesterday, giving me no excuse not to stick with my plan. After 45 minutes of uncoordinated undulating that surely offended the entire nation of Tahiti, I decided that wasn't enough. I moved on to the Cardio Kickboxing. It is 3 ten minute workouts. You can do one, two, or all three, depending on your time and stupidity. I, of course, went for all three. I didn't want to plant a roundhouse kick to the rock hard abs of the perky, blonde instructor until 6 minutes into the second workout. As if I could have gotten my fat, wobbly leg high enough to do that. Today I am throwing 8 minute abs and 8 minute arms into the mix....but I'm afraid I'm going to need to slather myself in self-tanner and slick myself up with baby oil to have proper technique on that one.

Humiliation and Refunds All Around

2006-01-30T14:04:00.000-07:00

I won't go into to great detail because my mother reads this, but....
I just attempted to send my husband a...um...complimentary email. You know how when you enter a few letters of the email recipient's address, it pulls up matching options out of your address book? Well, apparently, Norm, from the tax collections bureau of my city, is the one right below my husband.
Sadly, Norm, no the email was not meant for you....unless you'd like it to be. Do I smell a refund?

Hump Removal. Less Lovely Lady Lumps.

2006-01-30T10:19:00.000-07:00

Yes, that is a reference to this hideous Black-Eyed Peas song. Check it out, if you must. But anyway....

I'm on a mission to lose the 10 pounds that have slowly crept up on me as of late. This is going to involve a little discomfort - seeing as how I HATE exercise and can't change my eating habits to save my life.

I am motivated by the fact that I am growing an extra belly roll. Yep, extra. I have had the standard mommy-roll since having my son. You know the mommy-roll - the extra flap of skin your body acquires after a pregnancy. The one that doesn't go away no matter how much weight you lose. The wobbly bit that you have to actively decide whether to tuck into your pants or to let it flop over. The mommy-roll. Please tell me you know what I mean. Please? Ahem...
So, as I was saying. I am now developing an extra. I don't have use for the first pile of squishiness and I certainly don't want a second. It is time to take some action. (I refuse to acknowledge the 456 other times I have made this exact vow. Warm ups. Dress rehearsal for the real deal. My own personal Extreme Makeover. Ok, more like a minor remodeling, but still...)

So, due to the fact that I loathe exercise, I can pretty much rule out the gym. I've tried walking, jogging, and my own treadmill in the past. No go. Do you know the amount of energy it takes to run? Too much exertion.

I need something that doesn't appear to be exercise. I have a few belly dancing DVD's that I like, but that is not enough....I like the idea of kickboxing....and shaking my booty (and saddlebags, and jiggly thighs). So off to Amazon.com I went. After searching through pages and pages of firming and flattening offerings (filed under the category of Screwing the Pudgy Out of Their Money in Five Easy Steps), I have 5 brand spankin' new, bun tightening DVD's on the way. I won't get into all of my choices, but I will say one included the words "tahitian dance". So by Friday, I'll be shaking my coconuts and losing the rolls.

Now since I am known to be a slimy little flake, who comes up with wonderful grand plans on an almost daily basis, but never follows through...I decided I needed some accountability. So here's how it works. I keep a my progress documented here daily. You then harass..I mean encourage me....keeping me on track. I call that my too-cheap-for-Weight-Watchers diet. I will weigh in every morning. My goal is to lose 10 pounds by April 5. 64 days, give or take. I will utilize one of my fancy new DVD's at least 4 days a week. I will log when I do...and when I do not.

It will look like this:
Pounds to lose:10
Pounds already lost:0
Exercise done: Shake Your Fanny - 35 minutes

So come on, help a girl out. Keep me on track. I'd do it for you. Probably. Well, I'd try, but I already told you, I am a flake.

It's a Sick World, My Friend

2006-01-27T09:38:00.000-07:00

Someone actually came to my blog by Googling the words "elephant scrotum". What kind of messed up individual Googles "ELEPHANT SCROTUM"?!? I was the number two link. Is it wrong to feel proud?

Thursday Thirteen...

2006-01-26T10:48:00.000-07:00

Thirteen Things that make my day at work less enjoyable that I would like.

1. Mail that reads....FINAL NOTICE...bla, blah, blah....pay by Jan 30...blah, blah, blah....collections...blah, blah, blah...

2. The pasta in my lunch leaked. Now I have sauce on my drink, sauce on my chips, sauce everywhere. I'm not sure I've ever used the word "sauce" that many times before. Sauce. Sauce. Sauce.

3. Calls that start "Ma'am, if I may have a minute of your time, I'd like to tell you about how using XXX credit card processing can save you money"

4. The fact that I didn't even unlock the door until 10 minutes after, and no one noticed.

5. I skipped Starbucks in fear of provoking my face, that clearly has had it in for me since I was 14. Caffeine=UGLY for me.

6. We are out of Post-its. I love Post-Its.

7. My beloved laptop, AKA my Baby, stayed home today.

8. There is no chocolate here. None.

9. The nine million racks of clothes to sort and price. Don't ever do consignment. Ever. If you own a store, sell only shiny, new things that you can price in massive quantities. Trust me on this one.

10. Had to leave this morning with wet hair. Resemble frizzy, angry llama.

11. Writing checks that don't involve buying something nice for myself.

12. Seeing the mounds of crap to get done. Deciding to delegate. Realizing I don't have any employees to delgate to.

13. People who know their little angel is poopy, and ignore my polite mention of a changing table, diapers, and wipes in the bathroom. "We'll just be a minute...then I'll change him in the car." Yes, but I'll smell Junior, for the next hour.

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1. Musings from the Edge
2. Confessions of a Busy Mom
3. Wendy's Whimsies
4. The Idle Receptionist
5. Whiskey Talking
6. KristieSue...What Are We TAlking About
7. Write From Karen
8. CraZedMom
9. Novelist in Training

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

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The Thrill of the Hunt?

2006-01-26T08:50:00.000-07:00

Since I have moved to Colorado, I have been surprised by the fact that so many people go hunting. Elk hunting, duck hunting. Hunting. This is a totally confusing concept to me. I don't see the purpose, and frankly it just seems, well, cruel.

It is a sport, I was told. A sport? It doesn't really seem to be much of a matchup. A person with all sorts of high tech equipment...that includes the rifle....against an unarmed, unsuspecting animal? Now if you were going to wrestle the elk with your bare hands, that may be a sport. And what about duck hunting? A duck has a brain the size of a marble. Is it really that impressive that you are able to shoot it with a hunting rifle, with a laser sight, after calling it with a duck call? It smacks of a big brother holding something just out of reach of a smaller brother, taunting him, and feeling superior. Yeah, he can do it because he is taller and smarter, but is it really admirable behavior?

I enjoy it. It takes skill. I would enjoy hiding in the shrubs and throwing sticks into the spokes of bikers as they pedal by in their spandex shorts. And it does take skill to land the stick in the exact...right...place. That doesn't make it a sport. Or fair. Funny, but not fair. And not even close to being a sport. Although, I'd watch that on ESPN2 in a heartbeat.

I suppose an small exception could be made for those who are actually going to eat what they hunt. Because it is hard to make it through life without a good elk burger and a cold one.

As you can probably tell, I am a vegetarian. But the rest of my family are not. I buy meat. I prepare meat. I am not some raving animal rights activist. I just don't see the sport in a match up that is never played on an even playing field. Plus, there is just something ridiculous about a grown man lying in the bushes, covered in Elk musk, trying to put a new Budweiser in his Dale Earnhardt can cozy without making a sound. Well, see, maybe I was wrong. Maybe it is a sport. Snort.

Let's Talk About Me

2006-01-23T10:02:00.000-07:00

I was tagged by Kristen at Motherhood Uncensored. And since talking about myself is one of my favorite pastimes...allow me to bore you with this.....

Two Things That Scare Me
1. Spiders - in an irrational, hysterical kind of way
2. Dying before my kids are grown

Two Hobbies
1. Making jewelry
2. T-shirt design

Two Things I Suck At
1. Housework
2. Cooking
Yes, my husband is a lucky, lucky man.

Two Truths
1. The better it tastes...the fatter it will make me.
2. The more I need a break....the needier my kids become.

Two Things That Make Me a Typical Chick
1. I almost never leave the house without makeup.
2. I love new clothes and shoes (But hate shopping, go figure)

Two Names I am Called
1. Mel
2. Lady (By my husband...usually when he is frustrated.)

Two Words I'd Like To Use To Describe Myself (Notice it says "I'd like to use...not that I do use.
1. Good Mom
2. Sucessful

Two Things That Make Me Cry
1. Kids being mistreated
2. Moms watching their babies die of starvation
oh, and also stubbing my toe on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night

Two Things I Want to Change in This World
1. Kids (anyone) starving. See above.
2. Homelessness
Although I hate questions like that. Everyone gives these noble answers, but very few people actually try to make a difference. Myself included.

Two Words I Have Trouble Saying (I'm going to make that two phrases instead)
1. You were right, I was wrong
2. No

Two Everyday Essentials
1. Deepest Beauty Mineral Makeup
2. Food. Yum. Anyone else hungry?

Two Favorite Items in the House
1. Laptop
2. TiVo

Two Things I Really Want
1. A three stone platinum and diamond anniversary ring
2. To move back to California

I'm not tagging anyone because I don't know anyone. If you would like to take a shot at this meme, please consider yourself tagged. Don't forget to leave a link to yours.

It Could Be You

2006-01-23T09:47:00.000-07:00

Take a minute to look at this.
Woulda Coulda Shoulda

Unspeakable Horror

2006-01-21T19:25:00.000-07:00

I don't usually attempt to write about anything serious here, but I saw this and had to mention it.
Final Days of Girl's Life Reveal Horrors

"He stripped Nixzmary of her clothes and beat her in front of Santiago, Brooklyn District Attorney Charles Hynes said.

He dragged her into the bathroom and repeatedly dunked her head under the cold water, and loud banging noises and screams of "Mommy" were heard throughout the apartment, authorities say. Rodriguez carried Nixzmary's limp body into the dirty room and tossed her to the floor, Hynes said."

The "dirty room" they are referring to is a filthy, rodent feces covered room, with a litter box for her to use as a toilet. While what this man did is vile and unthinkable, I hope the punishment is heaped double onto the mother. How can you hear your child, your baby, crying out for help and stand by? Someone is doing the most horrific things to your child and you stand by and watch it happen? Disgusted. Horrified. No words can come close to expressing how I feel about a mother who can hear her child's screams and look away. May justice be swift and the punishment, the maximum. Or better yet, may they receive their "punishment" from the other inmates when the guards aren't looking.

I'll take Annoying Older Brothers for $500, Alex.

2006-01-20T20:44:00.000-07:00

Overheard from the backseat of my gas-guzzling SUV beast...

Son (to his 2 yo sister): Do you know what these car seats are made out of?
Daughter (just happy he is actually speaking to her): What?
Son: Our car seats. What..are....they...made...out...of? (spoken extra slooowly and enunciated for maximum annoyance)
Daughter: What?
Son: The SEATS! What are they made out of? You know, like metal...or plastic...
Daughter: Plastic?
Son: Noooo. They are Lea-ther. Can you say Lea-ther?
Daughter: No.
Son (with dramatic sigh and eye roll): That is why they don't allow 2 year olds on game shows.

Help me.

Thursday Thirteen Trivia Challenge! Second Verse Same as the First!

2006-01-19T10:18:00.000-07:00

Thirteen songs I know every word to. Some are classics. Some never should have been written. Regardless, they are taking up the time and energy of brain cells that could be doing other things. Do you know any of them? (I know it's not as good as the movie quotes, but cut me some slack, I forgot it even was Thursday!) All decades and genres are represented so everyone can play along at home.

1. Will it ever stop? Yo, I don't know. Turn off the lights and I glow.

2. I had a little horsey named Paul Revere. Just me and my horsey and a quart of beer.

3. So I wake in the morning and I step outside...and I take a deep breath and I get real high and I...I am feeling a little peculiar.

4. Just get me to the airport put me on a plane...Hurry, hurry, hurry...before I go insane.

5. Baby, when I think about you...I think about Loooooove. Darlin' if I live without you...I live without Looooove!

6. Introduced my self as Loc and she said "you're a liar" I said "I got it goin' on Babydoll and I'm on fire,"

7. Made a lightning trip to Vienna. Eating chocolate cake in a bag. The newspapers said "She's gone to his head. They look just like two gurus in drag."

8. Mix your milk with my cocoa puff. Milky, milky, cocoa. Mix your milk with my cocoa puff. Milky, milky...Riiiight.

9. Digging a ditch where maddness gives a bit. Digging a ditch where silence lives. Digging a ditch for when I'm old. Digging this ditch my story's told.

10. Spent forty eight dollars last night at the county fair. I throwed out my shoulder but I won her that teddy bear.

11. Some people call me the space cowboy, yeah. Some call me the gangster of love. Some people call me Maurice...

12. But each time I tell myself that I, I think I've had enough. Well, I'm gonna show you baby that a woman can be tough.

13. I'd like to add his initials to my monogram. Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb?

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1. Musings from the Edge

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

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Don't Tell Me How You Really Feel. No, really. Don't.

2006-01-18T16:16:00.000-07:00

To the person who left the sarcastic review for me at Blog Explosion:
I will refrain from commenting at all on the fact that you apparently have nothing better to do than review random blogs on the internet.
So my blog is a "needless site"? I'll have to agree with you on that. But aren't all blogs essentially needless? Aside from yours obviously. So please enlighten me as to what lofty contribution your blog makes to the blogosphere or the world as a whole. Wait, let me guess...you write a political commentary blog. Heaven knows there aren't enough of those out there. But I'm sure yours is different, right?
So you continue on, rolling out post after post of fascinating, life-altering information - and I'll continue to sit around in my suburban-mommy-track suit, pecking away my mindless entries while my kids eat cereal and listen to Kid's Bop.
Thanks again for your "constructive" criticism. Oh, and one more thing - Bite me.

Note: My kids do not actually listen to Kid's Bop. I'd rather chew my own arm off that buy that crap. No offense to those that do love Kid's Bop.

Notice Anything Different, Little Mama?

2006-01-14T10:55:00.000-07:00

How about my cool new blog design? Done for me by the fabulous Nello. Cute blog. Cute kids. Awesome blog beautifier. Check her out.

In honor of the new look, I thought I'd put a little about my love for Elvis...

In fourth grade, I was home sick. There was an Elvis movie marathon on. I watched 13 hours and was a fan for life. Why? I have no idea. But it's true.

I have a large collection of Elvis memorabilia. That includes a velvet Elvis painting. No joke. I hang it in my double wide next to my Nascar commemorative plates. That is a joke.

At 18 I got Elvis tattooed on my lower back. It has since been covered with a larger tattoo. Sometimes I miss it.

I have never been to Graceland, but will someday.

Even as a fan, I can not bear to watch a lot of his movies, but love King Creole.

And that is all. Enjoy. And Nello - Thank you. Thank you very much.

Put Both Hands Where I Can See Them

2006-01-11T19:24:00.000-07:00

Apparently, if you google "look at my bulge" my blog comes up. Me and a bunch of...um... "self-love" links. Some poor lonely soul clicked on my site for some inspiration and found a mommy-blog. Bummer. If it would help, I could tell you what I'm wearing....
Fleece jammie pants and my husband's gray zip up hoodie. Does that work for you Big Boy? No?
Then may I direct you here...

Hot Chick

Thursday Thirteen Trivia Challenge! You Know You Want to Try!

2006-01-11T12:52:00.000-07:00

Thirteen quotes from movies I love. Can you name any of the movies? Whoever can name the most will receive...um...my respect? my appreciation? bragging rights?

1. I hope it feels so good to be right. There's nothing more exhilarating than pointing out the shortcomings of others, is there?

2. I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that.

3. Tyrone, you know how much I love watching you work. But I've got my country's 500th anniversary to plan, my wedding to arrange, my wife to murder, and Guilder to frame for it. I'm swamped.

4. Don't be jealous that I've been chatting online with babes all day. Besides, we both know that I'm training to be a cage fighter.

5. Hey, how come Andrew gets to get up? If he gets up, we'll all get up, it'll be anarchy.

6. I can't believe I gave my panties to a geek.

7.
King Arthur: Now stand aside, worthy adversary.
Black Knight: 'Tis but a scratch.
King Arthur: A scratch? Your arm's off.
Black Knight: No it isn't.
King Arthur: What's that, then?
Black Knight: [after a pause] I've had worse.
King Arthur: You liar.
Black Knight: Come on ya pansy

8. And five, now this is the most important, Rat. When it comes down to making out, whenever possible, put on side one of Led Zeppelin IV.

9. I'll be taking these Huggies and whatever cash ya got.

10. Don't I know you? I stole the baby from you while you were taking a peepee!

11. Excuse me, I believe you have my stapler...

12.
Barry's Customer: Hi, do you have the song "I Just Called To Say I Love You?" It's for my daughter's birthday.
Barry: Yea we have it.
Barry's Customer: Well, can I have it?
Barry: No, actually, you can't.
Barry's Customer: Why not?
Barry: God. Do you even know your daughter? There's no way she likes that song. Oops, is she in a coma?

13. I'm sorry? Outside? Should I bring my dueling pistols or my sword?

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1. Wendy's Whimsies
2. PractiGal
3. Almost an Angel
4. Whiskey Talking
5. Jade
6. Picking Piksea's Brain
7. Diary of the Nello
8. Janne's Jabberwocky
9. Yellow Rose's Garden
10. Maman des Filles
11. Musings from the Edge
12. Portal of My Mind
13. Sncikerdoodles

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

<

A Love Story...Eeeek!

2006-01-11T10:45:00.000-07:00

My daughter is in love. It began before Christmas, but she has spent the past two days professing her love as often and emphatically as possible. His name is Brighton, and he is cute and nice. At least that is what her preschool teacher told me when prodded for details. Yeah, you read that right - preschool. My daughter is two and a half.
A little back story my daughter hates boys. Hates. She even made up a little song about how much she does, in fact, hate boys...

"I hate boys. I hate boys. I hate Booooys! I hate that boy in the blue stripey shirt. I hate booooys!" (she learned the word hate from Finding Nemo, not me so don't start throwing shoes.)

Then she announces, out of the blue..."I like Brighton!"
"But Brighton is a boy," I protest, I thought you didn't li.."
She cuts me off mid-sentence - "But I. Like. Brighton."
To be followed by "I am going to go to Brighton's house, Mama. You can come too."
"I like playing with Brighton."
"I want Brighton to come see my room."
"Brighton and I like swinging" (Common interests)
"Brighton is nice. He doesn't hit or yell." (Always good attributes)
"Brighton cut his finger with the scissors. It was bleeding, bleeding, bleeding. He didn't cry, though." (Ahh, tough too)
"I am wearing overalls, just like Brighton. I want to wear them allllll day!" (Good fashion sense)
She goes to bed sleep at night singing the praises of Brighton to my husband.

Tuesday, when I dropped her off at school I tried to get myself a peek at this Brighton. No such luck. He wasn't there yet.
" Oh he is cute!" the teacher exclaimed. "And such a nice, nice little guy. Quite a gentle little boy. So sweet."

Hmmm, he seems to be quite something, this Brighton. I wonder how his parents feel about arranged marriages?

Whole Lotta' Nothin' Goin' On

2006-01-09T12:37:00.000-07:00

I don't know if it is stress or writer's block (can you get writer's block if you are not really a writer?), but I can't think of a single thing to blog about. Maybe it's holiday letdown. The Christmas decorations taken down but still in piles of boxes in the living room are not half as festive. My suitcases are an eyesore on the floor only half unpacked - we came home 7 days ago. Laundry mountain has reappeared. Our house looks like it has been looted in some rural riot. If I don't get to the grocery store soon, we are having salad dressing and the box of baking soda out of the fridge for dinner.

Or it could be the stress from the my store. Every bit of mail I get says "It's Tax Season!" or "Time to Think About Those Taxes" Evil, evil taxes. Although I have only been here a short time, Colorado seems like a nice place - but I have never seen so many freakin' business taxes. I don't even know what the heck some of them are for. I think maybe I'll start sending out my own tax notices to people. I bet they would pay them too. They would add them to the stack and scrawl out a check just like I do, I imagine. I could have myself quite the little side business there.

Am I the only one in a post-holiday slump? Hello? Bueller?

My Warning Label

2006-01-06T20:30:00.000-07:00

Took this quiz at Quizilla. The results seem accurate.

which happy bunny are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Yo Mama so stupid....

2006-01-05T16:08:00.000-07:00

Thursday Thirteen is one entry down, but for the rest of you...

I have had several people come across my blog while searching the net for "Yo Mama" jokes. As disagreeable as I may seem, I am a people pleaser. So in order to give the people what they want, here is a compilation of the best (using the word loosely) "Yo Mama" jokes around. Enjoy.

Yo mama so fat she eats Wheat Thicks.
Yo mama so fat she's on both sides of the family!
Yo mama so stupid when your dad said it was chilly outside, she ran outside with a spoon
Yo mama so stupid that she tried to put M&M's in alphabetical order!
Yo mama so greasy Texaco buys Oil from her
Yo mama has so many teeth missing, it looks like her tongue is in jail
Yo mama so poor when I saw her kicking a can down the street, I asked her what she was doing, she said "Moving."
Yo mama so poor when she goes to KFC, she has to lick other people's fingers!
Yo mama so poor when I ring the doorbell she says,"DING!"
Yo mama so short you can see her feet on her drivers license!
Yo mama so nasty she brings crabs to the beach
Yo mama so nasty she has to creep up on bathwater.

Ta da! Humor at its finest, right there.

Ever meet a phlegmy pianist with angina?

2006-01-04T23:41:00.000-07:00

Thirteen words I think are icky or funny...or so icky they are funny

1. pubic
2. mucus
3. phlegm
4. loins
5. pianist
6. angina
7. Tofurky
8. hygiene
9. buttocks
10. genital
11. slacks
12. spouse
13. douche

I know that I'm missing some. Please feel free to add your own in the comments.

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1. Diary of the Nello
2. Whiskey Talking
3. Confessions of a Busy Mom
4. Musings From the Edge
5. Ficklechick
6. Simply Life

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Potty Talk

2006-01-02T10:03:00.000-07:00

To the girl in the women's restroom at the Ontario airport:
I understand that you and your boyfriend have a special kind of bond. All full of passion and mush, making separation almost unbearable. But really, do him and the general potty-using public a favor and put down the cell phone for the two minutes it takes to use the facilities. I'm pretty certain that whatever it is you just had to tell him could wait...Unless of course it was "do you want to hear me pee?" which I'm sure he thinks is just adorable. However, I doubt he finds the sounds of myself and several other strangers tinkling half as cute. So for Pete's sake, use a little discretion and hang up the flippin' cell phone for two seconds. Every relationship needs a little mystery.
Thank you.

Thursday Thirteen

2005-12-22T21:21:00.000-07:00

Thirteen Things about Mel
A Lousy Recreation of a Christmas Song for my Thursday Thirteen

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a crispy, needle-dropping tree.

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me two fighting children and a crispy, needle-dropping tree.

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me three rush custom orders, two fighting children and a crispy, needle-dropping tree.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me four Christmas cards from realtors, three rush custom orders, two fighting children, and a crispy, needle-dropping tree.

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me FIVE DAYS TO FIND AN IPOD!

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me missing hotel reservations, FIVE DAYS TO FIND AN IPOD, four Christmas cards from realtors, three rush custom orders, two fighting children, and one crispy, needle-dropping tree.

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me a million unwrapped presents, missing hotel reservations, FIVE DAYS TO FIND AN IPOD, four Christmas cards from realtors, three rush custom orders, and a crispy, needle-dropping tree.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a grocery list for shopping, a million unwrapped presents, missing hotel reservations, FIVE DAYS TO FIND AN IPOD!, four Christmas cards from realtors, three rush custom orders, two fighting children, and a crispy, needle-dropping tree.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me nine last minute errands, a grocery list for shopping, a million unwrapped presents, missing hotel reservations, FIVE DAYS TO FIND AN IPOD!, four Christmas cards from realtors, three rush custom orders, two fighting children, and a crispy, needle-dropping tree.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a stack of unmailed Christmas cards, nine last minute errands, a grocery list for shopping, a million unwrapped presents, missing hotel reservations, FIVE DAYS TO FIND AN IPOD!, four Christmas cards from realtors, three rush custom orders, two fighting children, and a crispy, needle-dropping tree.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a family battling a headcold, a stack of unmailed Christmas cards, nine last minute errands, a grocery list for shopping, a million unwrapped presents, missing hotel reservations, FIVE DAYS TO FIND AN IPOD!, four Christmas cards from realtors, three rush custom orders, two fighting children, and a crispy, needle-dropping tree.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me twelve loads of laundry, a family battling a head cold, a stack of unmailed Christmas cards, nine last minute errands, a grocery list for shopping, a million unwrapped presents, missing hotel reservations, FIVE DAYS TO FIND AN IPOD!, four Christmas cards from realtors, three rush custom orders, two fighting children, and a crispy, needle-dropping tree.

On the thirteenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me....the ability to do a normal Thursday Thirteen. Next week, I promise...but I lie sometimes.

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!
1. Mrs. Flinger
2. My Thoughts at this Moment
3. Portal of My Mind
4. My Single Mom Life

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Why I Don't Take Public Transportation

2005-12-19T14:09:00.000-07:00

My daughter's latest version of "The Wheels on the Bus"

"The alligators on the bus go..bite...bite...bite....
Bite...Bite...Bite...."

The skunks on the bus go puke...puke...puke...
Puke...puke...puke" <-----?!?

What day is it again?

2005-12-18T19:03:00.000-07:00

I know it is not Thursday, but I've been meaning to do this and I'm all about instant gratification.

Thirteen Things about Mel
Thirteen things that throw off my groove....well, 12 and some plagerism.

1. People who write lame, amateur poems that rhyme.

2. When my eight year old will not wake up on time.

3. When I get the flu and throw up my chili.

4. People who get irritated when I act silly.

5. Kids who pick boogers and wipe them on walls.

6. Women with no backbones and men with no...er...backbone.

7. When I am bloated and can't button my pants.

8. When my otherwise great husband forgets the romance.

9. When you order french fries and they are too greasy.

10. When old men wear Speedos and make me all queasy.

11. People who just drop their trash on the street.

12. People who think "vegetarian" means I don't eat.

13. I do not like green eggs and ham. I do not like them, Sam I am.

Ta Da! Sorry it's lame. Please don't kick me out of your club...next time I'll play nice, I promise!

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!
1. (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!)

Can you hear me now, Mom? Good.

2005-12-16T10:39:00.000-07:00

Is it just me, or are kids' Christmas lists getting out of hand? Some of the top requested gifts this year were iPods, Xbox, and robotic dinosaurs, (which would be really cool except for the price tag).

The lady who does my hair told me her nephew asked for only one thing this Christmas. A cell phone. He is six. Six. What the heck would a six year old do with a cell phone?
"Mom, it's me, Jack. I am in the living room...could you please start the Spongebob DVD over for me. Oh, I could use some more juice."
The best part is, his mom is considering it. What the?!?
"But it is the only thing he asked for."
Is that how it works then? Fine, then the only thing I'm asking for is a platinum three stone diamond anniversary ring.

iPods are cool, but if someone in my house is getting an iPod, it will be someone over 4 feet tall. Already the only thing I see of my son when we are in the car is his forehead bathed in the blue glow of his Gameboy. If we add an iPod we could lose him altogether.

Thankfully, we have eluded the demands for the overly-hyped, overpriced gadgets this year. My daughter wants Play Dough. And Play Dough she shall have. It's when she starts molding it into a cell phone and sending text messages to Dora we need to worry.

Bring it on, Santa! Bring it on!

2005-12-12T21:05:00.000-07:00

I was recently asked what I wanted for Christmas. I said a nap and an uninterrupted shower. I was only half joking. As I thought about it more, I realized it doesn't have to be an unachievable dream. I can make this happen. So here is my list of demands...er...Christmas list, Santa. And you better deliver, Fat Boy, or the elves are toast!

All I want for Christmas (aside from diamonds and chocolate)

1. The right to use the bathroom without an audience...("Mama, did you poop?")

2. The right to shower without the door being yanked open with demands that I settle an argument or pleas of "Mom, have you seen my bike helmet?"

3. The right to consume at least one meal a day without hearing "Mama, what do you have? Can I have a bite?" and I would like to eat it while it is still hot...hell, I'll even settle for luke warm.

4. The right to listen to "grown up" music in the car every once in awhile without hearing "Not thiiis. I want to hear Polly Wolly Doodle!" whined from the backseat.

5. And speaking of car... I deserve to drive a car that doesn't contain a whole herd of My Little Ponies, enough sand from the school playground to form a small tropical island, and smell like french fries.

6. I want to walk into the bathroom and see a new roll of toilet paper on the roll without having to put it there myself. I deserve never having to drip dry or sit with my pants around my ankles with the door cracked waiting for someone to bring me a roll.

7. I want to be able to say the "s" word without some little nark tattling "Ohh, you said stupid! We don;t say stupid!"

8. The right to walk through my kitchen without my sock sticking to some foreign substance. Hasn't anyone in my house heard of freaking paper towels?!?

9. To not have my pockets be used as a trash receptacle or my shoulder as a tissue.

10. To have one day where my conversations don't involve Dora the Explorer, the potty, or knock knock jokes.

That's it, Santa. Think you can handle that?

Battle of the Bulge

2005-12-07T19:44:00.000-07:00

My body has turned on me. You would think I could trust it, what, with it being my body and all. It started with my stomach. It made friends with my butt and now they are conspiring against me.
My stomach never forgave me for my two pregnancies. At least that is what I can surmise as it's horrible rebellion occurred in conjuction with the birth of each of my children. Especially my daughter. After my daughter, it turned into an floppy, accordion-like apparatus, with what resembles a road map of Cleveland drawn in stretch marks. I can see how it would hold a little grudge. I can. But I thought we had managed to work through that. I didn't know it had secretly been plotting its revenge. It happened a few weeks ago when I was desperately looking for something clean to wear. I went for my "fat pants" - you know the pants you wear when you are bloated or hit the cookies a little too hard? Fat pants. I pulled them on...well, sort-of. They sort of dragged when they got to hip level. I didn't pay it much attention until....the zipper resisted. Now that got my attention, but I still found no reason to panic. The button gave me the real trouble. Of course I swung around to check the label to make sure these were, in fact, my "fat pants". They were. GASP! Surely they had shrunken in the dryer. I am not exactly June Cleaver when it comes to laundry. But I was only fooling myself...I knew I air dried my fat pants, precisely so this type of incident would never, ever happen.

Now I knew I had gained a little weight, but to outgrow my fat pants! That was the wake up call I needed. I informed my husband that I was going to start "watching what I eat" - which of course meant he was now watching what he ate as well. The diet went well. Lasted about 4 hours, which I believe is my new record.

My fat pants are now just my pants. I caught a glimpse of my behind in the mirror and realized that my stomach had somehow managed to turn my rear against me as well. Either that or my butt has decided to do a little remodeling and put on an addition. Quite a large one too. That has to be some sort of code violation back there. I would turn it in, but I don't want to provoke it. I can't afford to keep replacing my fat pants.

So now, my main objective is to lose 8 pounds. The best plan of attack is to watch what I eat and exercise. Hmm. Or I could just focus my energy on keeping my butt and stomach from talking to my thighs. Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.

And the list goes on...and on...and on

2005-12-05T13:36:00.000-07:00

Anyone who knows me, knows I am annoyed very easily and very often. A character flaw maybe, but it is what it is ::shrug:: I have a list I keep in my head titled "Things that Annoy Me." I add to it often. Today I am going to give you a peek at what is being added to my list at this very moment.

Things that Annoy Me
1.Things that do not work how they are supposed to. When something is supposed to work a certain way and it doesn't, it tends to get me a little miffed. (This addition to the list is very hypocritical since I should technically be counted as something that doesn't work how it's supposed to myself.)

2. People who either mishear, misunderstand, or just plain don't know and then take it out on you. Sure, you may want something to be a certain way, you may think it should be, but it is not. I have done my best to convey to you in advance how it is. You insulting me when things don't go your way may make you feel better, but it makes me feel like crap. Thank you for that. I have decided I am way to sensitive to be in any sort of customer service related field...but more on that in another entry.

3. People who say they are going to do something and don't. People who are reminded about what they said they would do and didn't, and who still don't do it, are even worse. Now, I don't know if that made any sense or not, so allow me to clarify. My financial institution (the one with the stagecoaches that rhymes with Bells Largo, you know the one) assured me, completely unprompted, in our little overdraft fiasco that the fees would all be waived. Awesome because their fees are freakin' high. Wonderful. I go home stressed about the account, but feeling happy that the fees wouldn't kill us. Well, the fees were never removed. I made a polite but pleading reminder call, and was assured it would be taken care of. 7 days and $330 later...no removed fees. Bah. Now I know our account was overdrawn and fees should apply...but don't volunteer to remove them as a courtesy and then not do it.

To convey the image that I am not a complete and total grump-ass all of the time I offer:

Things that DO NOT Annoy me

1. When my daughter, finding my bra left in the living room, picked it up, started swinging it around and cried "Mama, you left your BOOBY TRAP in the living room!" She has taken to make up words when she lacks the proper vocabulary, and that was a particularly good (and accurate) substitution.

2. When my son, who was playing outside in what was left of the snow, came running in to give me a piece of slushy ice....."it's shaped like a heart!" he exclaimed. Now that does no annoy me at all.

There has been some wondering as to whether I should be allowing my customers access to my grumpy, bitchy underbelly. Probably not good business. I am still mulling it over, but believe I am fairly safe for now, as my aunt is the only person I know who is actually reading this at all. Hello Aunt D!

My Dirty Little Secret

2005-12-04T21:22:00.000-07:00

I am having a fling with an older man. I didn't set out for it to happen, but it did. Maybe it was the maturity and well-developed sense of responsibility that attracted me. Maybe it was the rugged looking facial hair. Whatever it is, I can't help myself...I'm going to continue the affair...at least until February when my birthday puts an end to it.

My husband turned the big two-nine this weekend. Happy birthday to the best person I have ever met.

Bah Freakin' Humbug!

2005-11-30T21:45:00.000-07:00

This day blew. Monumentally sucked.
Bank account overdrawn. Way overdrawn.
Dog barfing in kitchen.
Two year old decided to go nap free.
Didn't get any work done.
Face breaking out.

Remind me why I gave up caffeine again? Oh, yeah, the two giant zits that have set up camp on my face after my last run in with a Peppermint Mocha.

2:00, still in my pj's. I can't pick up my son in my pj's. Sure dropping him off in my jammies at 8 am is one thing, but 3:15 with ratty old pj's and raccoon eyes is another.

Forced myself to dress and even put on some makeup. Retrieved son.

The dentist called. I have forgotten to pick up my retainer. Yes, I am 28 years old with a retainer. I need to pick it up. "You'd be surprised how quickly your teeth will move without it," she said. No, I wouldn't.

Nothing to make for dinner. 7:30 the kids eat cereal for dinner. We are in the midst of the nightly homework ordeal. One hour and 25 minutes for two stupid worksheets. Was that a gray hair sprouting?

Check the pantry for dinner for myself. Nothing looks interesting. I eat nothing. Have been eating next to nothing lately and still have gained weight. How the heck does that work?

My cell phone has been MIA for 3 days now. Feel naked without it. I know it's in the house. I heard it beeping the first day.

Kiddos finally tucked in. I have a buttload of work to get done. Decide on bubble bath and alcohol instead. We don't drink. We own no alcohol. None. Manage to scrounge up a small bottle of champagne from a wedding we went to last year. Score.

Overfilled bath with cold water. Damn. Waiting for hot water heater to heat my next batch. Look for glass for champagne. Fancy glass waaaaay up in cabinet full of things we never use. Pour champagne into red plastic cup.

Bath is ready. Just like a luxury spa, well....except for the Dora the Explorer bath toy I sat on (OUCH) and the mounds of laundry silhouetted in the candle light.

Only 9 hours and I get to do it all over again. Bartender! I'm going to need a refill in my little red cup.

Rantings of a Fence Sitter

2005-11-28T21:45:00.000-07:00

In life so many things are presented as either or...one or the other. Republican or Democrat....liberal or conservative....Coke or Pepsi?

In the world of mothering, there are two camps - the "stay-at-home-moms" and the "working moms". Both camps are equally adamant and equally vocal about who is making the better parenting choice. I came from the camp of the "stay-at home mom"...well, the subcategory of "work-at-home mom" to be exact. I was only a tiny bit self-righteous...shaking my head ever so slightly in pity for the kids who were dropped off of at school at 7:00 in the morning, not to be picked up until 5:30. I was raised by a single mom which, of course, equals "working mom" so I knew the other side as well.

I have realized, as of late, I am a misfit, out of place on either side of the fence. I own my own business, which of course I have to run...which would make me a "working mom" - but - I am only at the store one and a half days out of the week, doing all of my other work from home after the kids are asleep. I am home all day with my daughter....which would make me a "stay-at-home mom" - right?

Now this should not be considered a dilemma, in fact, it should be a non-issue. I said should be. Yet the "this-or-that", "either-or" phenomena pushes its way into my life whether I think it matters or not.

I have been nudged out of the "stay-at-home" mom group....
Can't make it to a parent-teacher conference at my daughter's preschool on a Tuesday - the only whole day I am in the store. Aside from the familiar glance full of pity cast toward my daughter (so that's what it looks like from this side), I get the offers to pick my daughter up to take her to the next field trip "so she won't miss out" What?!?! One freakin' day I can't make a school event and now my daughter needs an advocate?

"Melodee, seems nice. I wish she were around more." What?!? My ability to hibernate in my house makes even the most fervent recluse give an appreciative nod. Did I mention I only work Tuesday and half of Saturday?

Yet on the flip-side, I am not welcomed with open arms into the pack of "working moms" either. I don't need to find a good day care provider.
I don't have to haggle for a day off if my kids are sick or have a school play.
My deadlines are mostly self-imposed and I'm fairly confident that I will not fire myself.

So where does that leave me? I have no desire to be a member of either of these opposing teams. I would like the line drawn in the sand not to exist. I would like moms to cut each other a little slack. To not make assumptions and judgments and act in ways that are detrimental to the already fragile mommy self-confidence. How warm and fuzzy of me, right? I just think as moms we deal with amazing levels of guilt and responsibility already, without inflicting more on each other.....

Hey, who brought that soap box in here. Rant over...for today.

Someone should fine me for gross overuse of quotation marks. """"""

Thank you. Thank you very much.

2005-11-26T22:55:00.000-07:00

Thanksgiving is the time of year when we reflect on what we are most thankful for. I, of course, am thankful for the important things - my family, my health - but I wanted to put together my secondary list. Things I couldn't make it through a day without. Okay, maybe I could struggle through, but I wouldn't be happy about it. The list is as follows -

Things I am Thankful for:

1. The T.V.
I know all of the studies and research about how television is wrecking our children, but I honestly don't think there has been a single better invention in the realm of parenting. Call me a bad mom, but I view T.V as a lifesaver...a glowing beacon of hope in a world of "he's looking at me!" and "Mom, she's in my chair!" Think I'm exaggerating? We had a power outage a few weeks ago and I began to hyperventilate. "They" say limit television viewing to an hour a day..."they" say encourage imaginative play. Sure, fine. I say "they" don't fully appreciate the beauty of the 15 minutes of peace an episode of "Max and Ruby" brings.

2. The drive-thru
Almost anything can be made better with a drive-thru. Think about it. There is not much I appreciate more as mom than not waking up a crabby 2 year old to use the ATM or get a decaf caramel Frappucino. I don't have to haul both kiddos into and out of the car to get lunch in the rain. I can pick up antibiotics for a sick little one and drop off dry cleaning (not that I own anything that needs dry cleaning) all without leaving my car. You can't tell me that is not cool.

3. TiVo
For all my television worshipping, I actually watch very little myself. Having kids will do that to you. Now I can record and watch the few shows I do care about when it is convenient for me....and I can fast-forward through commercials! The only downside to this beautiful invention is the fact that my 2 year old thinks everything can be paused and rewound. Small price to pay to see CSI with no commercials after the kids are in bed.

Runners Up:
Wipes: Is there any emergency that can't be handled (at least temporarily) with a wet wipe? At the very least they protect an entire generation of kids from the spit on a tissue that most of us had to endure.

More to come...I am about to go enjoy another thing I am thankful for as a parent...sleep!

Please feel free to add what you are thankful for!

Another One Bites the Dust....

2005-11-24T10:44:00.000-07:00

For those of you who have had the ...um...experience of being in our store when my kids were there, you know I am not exaggerating when I say they are crazy. My son is 8 and my daughter is 2. I thought with them being so far apart in age they wouldn't fight much. I was wrong. They fight all day, every day...every waking minute. They fight about everything.

Just yesterday in the car I witnessed this argument in disbelief:

My son, seeing dust bits glistening and floating in the sunlight, decided to pretend to eat it. (?) Snapping his mouth in the air like an animal and making eating noises, must have looked fun, because my daughter decided to join in. They were both "eating" dust for a minute and then...

Son: Hey that big piece was mine! You ate the big dust!

Daughter: I want big dust!

Son: It was mine!

Daughter: You have all the dust over there! I want more dust!

Son: You have dust...you have all the good ones!

I think you get the idea. This went on for another minute or so before, thankfully, I turned the car, the sun moved, and no one had any dust. Good thing too, because by that time the twitch in my eye was back.

I will spare you the details of their argument over whether Sprite is "clear" or "yellowish-clear". No kidding....I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

So what is the deal? Are my kids the only ones that argue like this? Does it ever end? Is the dust on the driver's side of the car fresher?

Mama! Mama!

Dude, can I borrow your truck?

Roses are red. Violets are blue. My daddy's farts smell like....

Phonin' it in

Love Hangover

Check please....

Hellooo? Anybody there?

The Party's Over

June Blog Exchange - What's In a Name?

A Day Late and About Eight Short

May Blog Exchange - Mother May I?

No, Judgmental is Not My Middle Name.

Holy Crap! An Update!

Death Becomes Her

Blog Exchange - Topic: New Beginnings

Bring Out Yer Dead!

Thursday Comes Around Quick, Doesn't It?

Odds 'n' Ends - Emphasis on the ODDS

Suburban Bliss

Blog Goulash

Thirteen things you need to know about Mel so you can die at peace with the world.

Some Clarification

A Big, Heaping, Steaming Pile Of....

The Bah-gyna Monologues

Thursday Already?

Blog Exchange

I Ain't June Cleaver, Yo

Today's forecast: slightly crabby with a chance of fits.

If You Can't Beat 'Em....

What the...?

Thursday Thirteen for my Inner Child

Why I Don't Sell Them to Traveling Gypsys...

Hold those gifts. The pity party has been postponed...

Just Call Me Freaky McFreakout

80's MeMe

Anarchy

Thursday Thirteen

A Little Bit of This...A Little Bit of That

Special Double Birthday Edition Thursday Thirteen!

The End of the World as I Know It

Woo Hoo!

Thursday Thirteen

And So It Begins...

Humiliation and Refunds All Around

Hump Removal. Less Lovely Lady Lumps.

It's a Sick World, My Friend

Thursday Thirteen...

The Thrill of the Hunt?

Let's Talk About Me

It Could Be You

Unspeakable Horror

I'll take Annoying Older Brothers for $500, Alex.

Thursday Thirteen Trivia Challenge! Second Verse Same as the First!

*Don't* Tell Me How You Really Feel. No, really. Don't.

Notice Anything Different, Little Mama?

Put Both Hands Where I Can See Them

Thursday Thirteen Trivia Challenge! You Know You Want to Try!

A Love Story...Eeeek!

Whole Lotta' Nothin' Goin' On

My Warning Label

Yo Mama so stupid....

Ever meet a phlegmy pianist with angina?

Potty Talk

Thursday Thirteen

Why I Don't Take Public Transportation

What day is it again?

Can you hear me now, Mom? Good.

Bring it on, Santa! Bring it on!

Battle of the Bulge

And the list goes on...and on...and on

My Dirty Little Secret

Bah Freakin' Humbug!

Rantings of a Fence Sitter

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Another One Bites the Dust....

Don't Tell Me How You Really Feel. No, really. Don't.