Please refrain from crying when you see your blood
tinged urine in the toilet. It'll scare the shit out of you and make
you make an appointment with your doctor. You won't think of us because
you just won't. Don't fret though, it's just us and what we do.
Love,
PS-
Our good friend,
wanted us to 'pass' on a message to you too. They'll make you think something has died
in your urinary tract and you will feel as though you're expelling it
through your urethra. Don't fret, it's just what they do.
PSS- Thanks and keep up the healthy eating!
And because I do what I do, here are the links to the facts about these two things Beets and Asparagus :)
So, I've been buying your kids' stuff for years. I've bought candles, flower bulbs, gift wrap, chocolate bars (with the $1 off pizza hut coupon), popcorn, magazine subscriptions, cookie dough, girl scout cookies, etc. I've really bought it all. I mean who doesn't, first off, like to pay retail plus plus for things and also who doesn't want to see their friend's kid win an opportunity to get a pencil or a pizza party? Right??? Right.
So, it's MY turn. As you know from THIS post, we're now involved in the mafia, er, cult, er club, er...Girl Scouts! It's cookie time, y'all! So, I was doing some math and I figured that your best bet using the CPC method (formula used was cost per cookie) for your four dollars are the Shortbread cookies, at $.10 a cookie and you're worst bet (there's a tie) is the Caramel deLites (formerly known as Samoas and MY FAVORITE) and Peanut Butter Patties at $.27 each. Eat slowly, y'all.
In all seriousness, they ARE delicious and only sold once a year. "And are a girl-led business, where girls can develop five essential skills
Goal setting
Decision making
Money management
People skills
Business ethics
During cookie activities, girls are members of a team working
toward a common goal, with each girl striving to do her best. Girls set
cookie goals to support their chosen activities for the year, like
funding community service projects, attending summer camp or even
traveling. So when your local Girl Scouts come calling with this year's
best-selling cookies, remember you're saying hello to tomorrow's
business leaders". Thanks, GS website!!
Now, times are a changin' though and you must keep up.
Now, you're jonesing these cookies I so deliciously sold in my post, and you don't know how to get them (obviously you're an agoraphobe and don't step foot out of your house into places like the supermarket or a church)? No problem. There is a girl scout cookie finder app for your iPhone. Yep. Girl Scout Cookie Finder uses your iOS device’s GPS to track down
cookies for sale around you. The app brings you listings of places you
can procure Girl Scout cookies by proximity and provides addresses,
phone numbers, and directions.
What did you say? You're afraid of having left over girl scout cookies in your house? NO problem, here is a link for 10 clever recipes for girl scout cookies including this one for Grasshopper Milkshakes....
So, hit me up on facebook, or comment on this blog post so that I can get you your coveted and beloved girl scout cookies!!!
and remember..........
and of course, this little ditty I absolutely love...
So, apparently, I've become somewhat of a 'seasonal' blogger. Holidays seem to be my bloggy muse and perfect fodder for my thoughts to paper...or screen. Anyhow, it's Valentine's day or it was yesterday. I was reevaluating the whole "holiday" thing in my head as I thought about what my daughters would give their classmates and what I would give my partner, Michael etc. I thought, "damn. another holiday I have to share with my kids"!
Halloween is all theirs now (when I clearly ((and hazily)) remember a deliciously decadent time when it wasn't and I could wear extra slutty clothes and no one bat an eyelash. Now, you'd be THAT mom, the one that wears the slutty clothes and that doesn't understand how *insertwhiny voice here* Halloween is for kids).
Christmas.....theirs, when once it was...totally yours.
Even St. Patrick's Day has gone to the kids. No more drunken debauchery, pub crawls, green beer, slutty clothes (apparent theme), etc. Now its green food coloring added to pancakes, corned beef and cabbage IN A CROCK POT (which I never had before kids either), shamrock sugar cookies and things like this.....
Anyhow, this post was sparked by a commercial I saw and nearly died laughing. I'm sure you've seen it before and have heard of the company. I've never watched a commercial and thought to myself "I am NEVER buying that thing". It was like a commercial, on opposite day.
If I ever received this as a gift, I would be 1. scared, 2. angry that there was $100 spent on this, 3. truly befuddled by my "friend" or "husband" that bought this for me and 4. giving it away to salvation army, stat. And scared.
Anyhow, enjoy my friends....
Please tell me what the marketers were thinking? What would you do if given the gift of bear?
Anyhow, we're simple at my house. Homemade gifts and all of that stuff. Plus, Michael and I can't even go out on this day because I have a Plan A, Plan B and Plan C babysitters and they're all cute, young girls with boyfriends, so they're actually busy doing Valentine's Day things, that are non kid related and can't babysit for us. Plus, we're fiscally conscious (thrifty, miserly, frugal) and think it is silly to designate this "special" day and that all of our restaurants that we usually frequent now have prix fixe menu and hand out roses, and that's annoying.
You know what? Gahhh-leeee. I'm writing from a weird state this morning (weirder than texas), I think I need to have my coffee and work out already so that I can be my usual cheerful, subscriber of Pollyannaism, positive self.
I'll leave you with the awesomeness that is my husband. He made cards for each of his girls, and bought us our favorite flavor of bundt cakes and had it all set up for us at 6:45am in the morning. We all lingered over our beautiful and heartfelt cards and savored our bundt cake with coffee (well, not the girls :) It was a great start to our day. I don't need no stinkin' diamonds and furs ;) If you're reading babe, I'm just kidding.
And, then upon pick up they enjoyed their love loot, as we call it. The girls had a wonderful time sharing what they enjoyed about each of their friends and classmates and also receiving little notes, pencils, stickers, tattoos, seed packets, fruit rope, puzzle cards, decoder cards, and 3-d cards.
I hope your day was fun and love-filled (at least like-filled) with something chocolatey and/or pink and red and at least can get a deal on V day candy today.
I don't even know what has happened. Wtf is up with mustaches? Like, what the fuck is up with mustaches? Is this another ironic, hipster, "white" kid thing? Am I not cool enough (doubt it) to "get" the mustache thing? Everywhere I look there a gd fauxstache on something. And you know the worst of it....THEY MAKE EVERYTHING LOOK SO CUTE! I'm having some turmoil about this (obvi) because I'm drawn to the adorableness that is the mustache symbol, everywhere, but, I think it's stooopid.
I was at the Sanrio store, and I saw a Salutations Feline key cover with a mustache!!!!! I BOUGHT it. It's so cute....look
Is it a throw back to the seventies, a retro move. I can't walk into an Urban Outfitters without being assaulted by "mustachized" stuff. I just don't get it.
This fad/trend has to be coming to an end if they have it AT POTTERY BARN, no?
Anyhow, I'm simply curious. Can anyone explain this to me? The purpose? The origin? The end?
So, "we've" decided to join yet another extra curricular activity. I'm not opposed to such fun and frivolity, its just that I am as much part of these damn things as the girls are. They're at the age that you can't just drop them off yet, and they can't drive themselves. So, I sit through music class, I sit through ice skating lessons, I sit through swimming lessons, I sit through art class, I sit through (put whatever I've forgotten in here) and NOW, I sit through girl scouts. I don't recall being in so many gd activities as a child. It seemed simpler and more efficient. I did the jazz/tap routine and some music and maybe a something else I'm forgetting. I modeled as a kid and did some of that, and ironically enough, I was fat as a teen and didn't even think about doing a sport...ha ha ha, wait. not that funny. My parents both worked full time, so that might have had something to do with why I was in so few, maybe not. Mom/Dad, if you're reading, I wasn't lacking in anything, it was the perfect amount of activities, and you guys did a great job! Just look at me now? Blogging and cursing.....its a beautiful thing :) Bringing us to the issue at hand. Girl Scouts. Daisies, to be exact. Now, my kids don't read my blog, and I hope yours don't either. And, my friends will remain nameless, even though you girls know who you are :) We (me) were apprehensive (didn't want to do it, at all) about joining GS. They meet EVERY week in the middle of our nighttime routine and it was going to be a real hassle to get things sorted at home with the other two (husband and other child) before going to our WEEKLY meeting at the school. I did it all for the cookie, c'mon, the cookie, c'mon I was hesitant only because I 1. didn't want to have to do something else, 2. didn't want to continue spending money on activities and everything related to them, 3. we've got a tight ass night time routine that looks something like this....
and 4.most importantly, I don't like to tie up my evenings because I'd like to be able to attend any impromptu Tuesday happy hour invitations. Hello? Priorities. Having said all of that, I bit the proverbial bullet and we totally joined. ALL of my school mom friends joined and after the snicker about taking a flask to the meeting, I knew this group'd be a'ight. Bringing us back to the springboard for this blog post. The Girl scout vest and the patches.
After purchasing all that IS Daisy, we were told to "just iron on these patches". Easy right? Totally, they're patches. You iron them. On. I (of course) bitched about why these weren't already put on the vests since they have a very specific place on the vest. No room for creative interpretation, so why not, offer us either the 1. the vest with stuff on it already, or 2. an upgrade option so that the patches (troop number, etc) can already be on the vest? Remember this post? You are talking to.....this girl. Since no one really bitched, I figured I was the only complainer/weirdo so I should take my vest home and my patches and I would "just iron on these patches". Well, as you could probably imagine, those patches sat on my kitchen counter day in and day out. I kept saying, "I have a whole week. A whoooole week to get these done". Enough sarcastic foreshadowing for you? Right, so cue in yesterday. I met with some moms at the park and they told me how they just didn't have time to iron these things on (pfft. how could they not have time....a week was forever to "just iron these on") so they sent it to the dry cleaners and paid......TWENTY FOUR dollars to get them put on. Twenty. Four. Dollars. I nearly passed out, and you know I'm all about paying for stuff like that. So, I was in a tizzy. A silly ass tizzy about the gd vest and the patches. So, last night
(night before the WEEKLY meeting), guess what? I couldn't find the iron. I didn't
even know if I had an iron. Why did I think I had an iron? and for what pray tell would I have an iron? I looked and looked and looked and looked and searched and nothing. I could not find the iron. I ran to CVS to buy an iron and spent $24.99 on an iron. for the patches. I had surpassed my useless friends by $.99. I left the store singing the words of the sage Limp Bizkit...... ......Why did it take so long?
Why did I wait so long, huh
To figure it out? but I did it And I'm the only one underneath the sun who didn't get it.....
I got home and my awesome husband had not only found our iron, but, had "just ironed on the patches". Simple as that. Ironed on the patches. You're a good man, Charlie Brown. I went back and returned the iron. All of this is to illustrate that this just wouldn't have happened to our parents. I don't know, they would've figured it out and not bitched as much or something. Anyhow, it was a great eye opener to me, seriously. What are we actually doing with our time? Well, we'll leave that for a different post. Next up.....how I was hoodwinked....errr...bamboozled...errrrr....nominated PTO vice president and I how I accepted.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
I may or may not have gotten looked at today like the mom on the cover of Time. You know the one. I mean, granted, I was not breastfeeding, but, apparently something almost as "odd".......carrying my kid.
Now, to be fair, my "kid" is 4. She is tall and weighs about 40 lbs. She was feeling feverish and sick today and asked me to "wear her, in her old Saylor purse". Of course, I obliged. I mean, what am I, a monster? <----------foreshadowing a bit.
Well, we were all over the house doing all sorts of things together as I wore her. Not great for the ol' back, but it was cool when she said "wow, I feel so cozy". I needed to go to Costco to buy more shit for my house and she had asked me to take her "purse" with us. Again, obliged. "I'm sorry it hurts your back momma, but, I really want to be carried". Again...monster? nope.
This is what I actually looked like
And this is what people apparently thought I was carrying in my sling.
Omg. The looks that I got were hilarious. People didn't know what to do with themselves. They barely made eye contact, like I was wearing a name tag that said
"Hello, My Name is Medusa".
Ha, I don't think it helped my cause that Saylor wears a size 11 running shoe, was reading (aloud) the signs at the store, and was holding a water bottle, my keys, my wallet and my phone in the sling with her....and handed me the correct AMEX to give cashier.
The coup de gras, you ask?
I was wearing a pair of shoes that looked an awful lot like these.
I'm telling you.....people did NOT know what to make of us.
and never the twain shall meet. This is the way that I categorize my mom friends...or maybe just my friend friends. Nothing brings this more to light and the disparity between the two than good ol' halloween. My daughter asked to be a cardinalfor halloween (I quickly realized that it was not the leading dignitary of the Roman Catholic Church, nominated by the pope, but, the bird). My first thoughts were 1. where do I buy that, 2. can I buy it off of the St. Louis Cardinals' website, 3. how much is this damn thing going to cost, 4. I need a coupon code for costume stores......and the frenetic thoughts continued. So, I'm telling my friends (here is where the divide is so apparent) and some of their eyes light up......(and their frenetic and oh-so-crafty minds begin)..."you are going to have SO much fun doing it. well, you could get a red leotard, and you can get wings and glue feathers, yes, beautiful red feathers. And of course you'll need tights and oh my gosh maybe a red shaggy haired wig. Then a beak, you'll need a beak...you can go and get ice cream cones and then have her string it to her......" I tune out a bit, but, am marveled at them (yes, plural, more than one). I listen and look on like this
It doesn't faze them, bless their hearts, they are so awesomely passionate about it. When I tell them, "thanks (insert one of the MANY names of people that were jazzed about doing it themselves), but hell no will I be doing it myself". I'm buying that bitch.
After their
look back at me, I quickly realize that we are who we are and that's all there is to it.
My inutility and uselessness does not end there, birthday parties are in this category too. I don't make jack. I buy it all at etsy (where the doers dwell), while my mom friends are baking cakes, taking classes to bake said cake (if they have a challenging theme), making homemade invitations, blah blah blah. While I do covet these folks so very much, I am immediately thinking who can bake, and decorate cake or cupcakes, where I can order invitations from, and if there is enough money in the budget to have a photographer at the party, because I can't be bothered.
So really what I have just realized whilst blogging is that the doers and buyers are really the ying and yang, the cookies and milk, the wind beneath my cardinal wing. Symbiotic relationship, fo shizzle. Well shoot, I'm part of an ecosystem. Cool, I don't feel so useless now.
So, there are the "doers" and the "have somebody else do it' ers" and I am perfectly ok being the latter. We all have a place in this big, wide world. Moral of the story...tally up the prices of the material, gas to get to the store, and the creativity fee, and I'll buy it from you.
Mother's Day has come and gone this year. It has always been that this is the day that you show and shower your own mother (or mom-like figure) in your life with adulation and love. It was no different this year. The only thing was that this year, I have begun to feeeeeel differently about what mothering/parenting is all about. I also have this growing respect and reverence to my own mother. It's like, you know you love your mother and always have, but, now its like you share this experience with her. How can I manage to love my mother more after becoming a parent? Weird, right, but, you just can't believe that your mother loves you like you love your children. It's an immeasurable, immense, full body kinda love.
I think each year you grow in your parenting and seem to become more sure footed about certain things. My poor first born, is still our beloved guinea pig though. She gets our first go around with a topic or situation, but, we also feel more confident that we can handle things. Our focus has turned somewhat away from her physical needs and shifted more to her emotional/character/morals/ and relationship needs. The cool thing is that it seems my 3 year old is riding the 5 year old's draft. So what was a huge deal for us when Athena was 3, isn't such a big deal with Saylor at 3. We're more relaxed and therefore, easier to see things that are actually important and those that aren't.
I wanted to thank my daughters for being perfection. I am honored to co-parent them. I am lucky that they chose us and that we get to experience them. I want to thank Athena for making me a mother, and for Saylor who complements and completes our family. And, I want to thank both of them for making me WANT to be a mother.
Finally, I want to thank you mom, for before, now and for whats to come.
Long story short, second day back at the gym after a long hiatus. I work out, shower, get ready for my day (remember this post?) and leave the gym. I return home to find that in my bag there is only one sneaker. I go back to the gym and *poof* gone, no shoe anywhere and nothing in the lost in found, or in the garbage. I lost one of my damn shoes! Second day back. Ugh. So it goes.
I leave the front desk person my phone number and a description of my shoe ala missing person. "It was blue and silver, new balance, size 8 1/2, with double knotted shoe laces. Last seen in the locker room". The diffident front desk person writes my name and number on the corner of a group exercise class schedule. He is soooooo not going to call me. My sneaker is a goner. The quicker I come to terms with this, the quicker I can move on.
So, after I get back in my car, now I'm pissed b/c I have to go and get a new pair. I dislike unnecessary purchases, dislike them very much. All of a sudden though, instead of being angry, I start to think about the shoe that was left behind. My mind starts to wander and I start to personify this left, left shoe. I mean I won't be using it anymore, it's not like I'm Terry Fox or anything. So, now I am really thinking and empathizing with my poor lone sneaker. I start to day dream drive....
If my sneaker were to write a personal ad, I feel it would be something like this....
Seeking sole mate. Love to take long walks, and short ones too. Love the outdoors and consider myself a morning person. Doesn't matter what race you are, I love them all. Looking for attractive, and athletic build. Ideal mate would love to just run around town with me, and experience life's "hi's" and "lo's". Only those that take pride in themselves and are odor and disease free need apply. Should like Zumba, spinning and boot camps. Must be spontaneous and willing to try new things. Needing someone who has no commitment issues. Only original personalities, no fakes or knockoffs, not too flashy but with a sense of style
Seeking someone that can meet me where the rubber meets the road. So, if you want to take a step in the right direction, contact me. Please include a recent picture.
It means crackcocaine in Sanskrit. No? It doesn't? Oh. *shrugging shoulders* Welp, it should. I have just found this snack that I am COMPLETELY addicted to (and so is Athena). It is a grown up version of a Cheeto. These crunchy strands are similar to Cheetos, but have an Indian masala twist. They have a slight bite and tangy taste. There is no coincidence here, it is actually part Frito Lay's Indian division.
Now, I am so addicted that Athena and I MAY have had that for breakfast the other day. With a tall glass of milk, of course. Saylor ain't havin' it though. "too spicy. I don't like it. I want oatmeal." The gall of that girl to want breakfast food FOR breakfast.
In some part of my brain, I am justifying this snack as another opportunity to expose the girls' palates to new foods, when in reality......its an Indian Cheeto.
Now, these snacks are SUPER popular in India but are just being introduced to the mass american market in recent times. You know us Americans will need a "It ain't easy bein' cheesy" -Chester Cheetah kind of clevah advert for us to try their foods.
Somehow though, I don't think that
or
will prompt too much creativity, but we'll see.....
There IS this
and
so we'll just have to wait and see.
In the meantime it just makes me want to do this......
First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her
When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.
What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short - a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day - And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.
“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
Amen.
-An excerpt from Tina Fey's new book -Bossypants, 2011
Athena is 5. Athena reads. Reads really well. She is into chapter books and spelling and just all around interested in reading, words, and their relationship with us.
So, whats shes been doing lately is grabbing the cd booklets and singing along to songs in the car. It's awesome, to hear her little voice just singing the words. This is something that I can't do, because I seem to be missing that gene. You know the one. The one that sings the correct lyrics, knows song titles, etc. I'm all about how the song feels and how it makes me feel. Unlike people, like my sister, who are totally into wooooords, their meeeeaning and composition, blah blah blah.
Well, my name is Barbie and I am addicted to Mumford and Sons. Listening to it non stop recently. Never ever paid attention to the words (I know, a sacrilege to those of you who 1. listen to lyrics, 2. think of it more like poetry).
Now to bring it all home.....
Imagine me and the girls driving with the windows down in our car, with Mumford and Sons blaring and Athena reading/singing along to Little Lion Man. All of sudden I hear her say "but it was not your fault but mine and it was your heart on the line, I really fucked it up this time, didn't I, my dear? Then I hear Saylor repeat it and all of a sudden, BOTH girls are all singing along loudly "but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line, I really fucked it up this time, didn't I, my dear? At first I was like whoa, THAT'S what it says, then I was like whoa, THAT'S what it SAYS??? I didn't want to react to it obviously, but I knew the question was coming......
and then there it was...
Athena- Mama, what does "fucked it up this time" mean.
Saylor- "fucked it up this time?"
speaking to myself......Barbie, don't fully acknowledge (just like that you haven't blogged for two months)
Me- It means they really messed up, made a mistake.
Saylor- Oh.
Athena- messed up? what do you mean?
Me- no more calm, cool and collected pep talk Ok, listen, it's a "boss" word. Only to be used by adults. In fact, lets just listen to another song.
Athena- No, no, I want to hear #7, the "fucked up song".
Me- Athena, that is an adult word. Please don't repeat it.
Athena- Oh, only bosses can say it?
Me- Yes, love.
Athena- So, only bosses drink coffee, martinis, wine and soda, and can say the words "fucked up this time"?
Me- oh my god. Yes, love.
DOES ANYONE WANT TO HEAR BARNEY?????????? Well, I do!
As y'all know I have a three year old. I am a huge fan of the 3 day potty training method by Lori Jenson. I had my 5 year old "trained" in 2.5 days when SHE was three, so I know it will work. The only thing is that it is a pretty intense 3 days. You and your partner (or care provider) have to buckle down for a few days for potty boot camp. It is intense, and exhausting, but super worth it.
So, back to my new 3 year old. I had planned on finishing with the diapers that I had just bought at Disneyworld, er, Costco before beginning the "training". About 4 days ago, my husband says "hey, we need diapers, I am going to stop and get some" and I said "Nooooooooo, don't. I'm waiting for these to finish so that I can start with Saylor". He said "oh, great idea, ok".
So, well, life gets fast and there are oversights here and there of course, there are also unanticipated things that come up, right? right.
Cue in last night....................
We are sorta yelling to each other because Michael is downstairs and I'm upstairs, playing Jenga or something.
Michael- Are there any diapers up there?
Me- No, none up here. Why?
Michael- Well, I need one for Saylor.
Me- Oh shoot, I forgot that we were going to start after these diapers were gone. Check the school bag.
Michael- checked, there aren't any in there. I'll just go get some.
Me- *while balancing my tower* No, no! I'm going to train her soon. Just, check the car.
Michael-not in the trunk, babe.
Me- Glove compartment (well, I'm in Texas, so "gun compartment")?
Michael-nope.
Me-oh my gosh. What do we do???????
MacGyver-Don't worry guys. I've got it.......
PLUS
It was all we had. Her sister's panty and one of my sanitary napkins. I adhered it to the underwear and let it flap its wings. Michael was in disbelief. I think he thought I was pre. tty. cool. Saylor was laughing when I put it on her, but she still wore it throughout the night! I love what a cool cat she is. The best part is that it actually worked!
I mean isn't that what a diaper is? A sanitary napkin shaped underwear?
So, here I am sharing this information with the blogosphere. If I can help just one parent, then I've done my job.
Anyhow, needless to say, we did it once more when we changed her this morning, but Michael ended up going to buy a small pack to get us to the weekend.
So, we've basically become experts at doing things efficiently and trying to maximize our outings/events. Almost every place I go to doubles as something else and you get to get more done in less time than it would take you to go to each place individually.
Get gift cards at grocery stores, get gas at the car wash, eat dinner at the movies, cook a meal (in the crock pot) while you leave your house, or renting a movie at the redbox while you wait for your prescriptions. I sometimes sing "trans. formers.....more than meets the eye" in my head.
All we're doing is attempting to save time and multitask, right?. Some say multitasking is actually a misnomer. Your brain hasn’t evolved to deal with consciously processing multiple streams of data, such as listening to someone talk on the phone while you check your email and try also to keep one ear open for tidbits of an interesting conversation nearby. What we call multitasking is actually a process of switching attention rapidly among a number of different activities.
Confirming this finding is an experiment where subjects were asked either to check their email and then write a report — the tasks performed sequentially — or to do both tasks at the same time. The multitaskers took one and a half times as long in total than those people who did one task and then another.
Anyhow, back to my anecdote.
So, my hair is stick straight. Obnoxiously so. When I realized (years ago) that my blow dryer was doing nothing other than blowing hot air onto my hair while I ran my fingers through it I immediately thought of "blow drying" my hair....................................using the heater in the car! I know, you're aghast, but, IT WORKS. I do this so much and am so successful with it, that my daughter's both know that this is what I do. They anticipate it when I get into the car with my damp hair and my 5 year old begs me to open up a window for them to "breathe fresh air".
Well the other morning, I was using the trusty heater to dry my hair and I was at a red light (which is when I really give it volume by drying it upside down and where I get my longest stares) and Saylor was in the back seat.
Conversation went like this.............
Saylor- "momma hair"
Me- "yes, momma's drying her hair"
Saylor-"no, momma, hair, ugh"
Me- "yes, doesn't momma look crazy drying her hair?"
Saylor- "Momma! (I swear her face looked like she wanted to say Yo, Bitch!) Hair in my mouth! Momma's hair,in my mouth! Look! "
I reach back to her and grab this long ass, brown hair that had already wrapped around her tongue, from her mouth. I actually had to stop the car and help her remove the hair from her throat.
The kind of shit a parent does and the predicaments that a parent is put in, is really only understood by another parent. I mean even the awesome stuff (to you) is hard to relay. You try to explain to your friends who are single or don't have children about your activities or doings with your family/children and they want to understand you and they want to share in your experiences, but, they just can't. I mean, I couldn't when I didn't have kids.
I actually said to my friends once, "I know you have three kids, butIwork and go to school and I make the time to call you". Ummm, no. Dearest old Barbie-without-children, it isn't the same. At all. Your friend was in a whirlwind of activity and could not eke out the time to talk to you (without interruption). What your friend wasn't telling you back then (amongst so many other things) was that she barely shaved anymore, and took showers now, not baths.
I had a friend tell me the other day...."My husband and I have been so crazy busy. We have had like NO TIME to ourselves. We've been to two birthday parties, and a wedding and we even had to go out to have drinks with some old friends that passed through town". I had to literally hold back tears and laughter concurrently. Michael and I DREAM of being that wonderfully busy again. We used to have Saturdays and Sundays and M-o-r-n-i-n-g-S all to ourselves. We did with them what we pleased, and never what we didn't. We'd "complain" about how we were "tired of eating brunch at the same place" and other ridiculous statements like that.
Another friend (sans bundles of joy) said to me "I got out of bed so. early. last saturday, 9:00am, for no good reason either". No, see....9:00am is already mid morning snack at my house. Puzzles have been constructed, train tracks have been made and trains have ridden on them, toast has been buttered, dust busters have been used and a time out or two have already been doled out. In fact, we wake up sooooo early in my house, that we can't even go out drinking or dancing the night before (and enjoy it) because I am perpetually calculating the maximum amount of hours I will sleep that night.
Now, I didn't want to this to be a bitch post because, well, that's tacky. And all of you know how much we enjoy our spectacular girls.
In conclusion (not really, b/c you know I'll talk about this again)....
Today, I had my newly 3 year old daughter brush my hair, with this....
during her 5 year old sister's ice skating lessons. You ask (well not all of you)...but why? that's gross? but I don't get it, she brushed your hair with the stem of her snack? ewwwww.
It kept her quiet for 20 minutes. 20. minutes.
So, don't worry, I'm really not angry, I just wanted to post what I was feeling today.
What are some things that you cannot believe that you do now that you have kids and if you're reading and don't have kids...what will "you never do?"
PS....please, please, please (I promise to not laugh) write me when you find yourself doing JUST that :))))))
The cheesy pick up line, "what's your sign?" may now have to be, "what's your new sign?" Or better yet....“Hey, baby. What's my sign?”. The zodiac signs have shifted is what Parke Kunkle (of the Minnesota Planetarium Society) is saying. The astronomer told the Minneapolis Star-Tribune that during the last three thousand years the Earth’s axis had shifted almost 10 degrees, which caused the alignment of the stars to move up to about a month and therefore affected the astrological signs that were established five thousands years ago by the Babylonians.
w. t. f.
I mean, it's like your parents dropping the bomb at 36, that you're adopted. It's like, huh? I 've been living my entire life thinking that I was this and now I'm that? Whoa.
But wait there's more....if you call within the next thirty minutes, you'll get a thirteenth zodiac sign for free. Yep, a whole NEW zodiac sign. Ophiuchus. Gesundheit. No, no, this is the new zodiac sign. It is wedged between Scorpio and Sagittarius. What are the traits of Ophiuchus horoscope?
The 13th sign of the zodiac, unlike the other 12 signs is actually associated with a real person. In the 27th Century BCE in Ancient Egypt lived a man known as Imhotep. Imhotep was known as ‘Aesclepius’ by the Ancient Greeks, however the attributes are the same under either name. One of Imhoteps abilities was healing and it is said that it was he who introduced it to mankind. His accomplishments also included a wide knowledge of medicine. The serpent or snake symbol which is still used today to symbolize the medical profession was also used to represent Imhotep. Below is a list of attributes associated with the Serpent Holder, Imhotep i.e Aesclepius. The descriptions below are associated with the 13th sign - Ophiuchus.
Many people are envious of this subject as he progresses well throughout life.
A seeker of wisdom and knowledge
Many people are jealous of this person
Tends to go for the more flamboyant in dress sense, favouring bright colours.
Authority looks upon him well.
Would make a great architect or builder.
Number 12 is this persons lucky number.
This person will have a big family but leave home at an early age.
Can't you just see the keychains, tee shirts, and coffee mugs with this on it? Or new serpent tattoos that people born from NOVEMBER 30 - DECEMBER 17 will be sporting? Of course they'll all be redone from their present Sagittarius, Archer tattoo.
This is the Zodiac as some astrologers believe it should be:
ARIES = APRIL 19 - MAY 13 TAURUS = MAY 14 - JUNE 19 GEMINI = JUNE 20 - JULY 20 CANCER = JULY 21 - AUG 9 LEO = AUGUST 10 - SEPTEMBER 15 VIRGO = SEPTEMBER 16 - OCTOBER 30 LIBRA = OCTOBER 31 - NOVEMBER 22 SCORPIO = NOVEMBER 23 - NOVEMBER 29 OPHIUCHUS = NOVEMBER 30 - DECEMBER 17 SAGITTARIUS = DECEMBER 18 - JANUARY 18 CAPRICORN = JANUARY 19 - FEBRUARY 15 AQUARIUS = FEBRUARY 16 - MARCH 11 PISCES = MARCH 12 - APRIL 18
Whatever. Super confusion is all I say. So all I have to do is recalculate my horoscope, my husband and my family's and Bob's your kunkle.
with excuses as to why I haven't been around. Been thinking aboutcha, though. And I am also not going to talk about why the last couple of posts on the blog have been about my daughter's both using their anatomically correct verbal skills. Coincidence? Nope. One entry jogged the memory of another. simple.
Now, lots has gone on in the past ohhhhhh 2 months. But, again, not gonna bore you with reasons and excuses as to why I haven't been able to get words on el blogo, you people deserve more.
So...*KABLAM POW* the new year comes around and I'm wanting to get back onto blogging. We also now have much faster internet and I am not so frustrated waiting around for a picture or video to load.
So, I will blog again this year. Not because I have to, but, because I want to.
And, I am reinstating TWT (Thousand Word Thursday) because I loved it.
Be back after these messages from our sponsors..........
I just want to say that I heart you. I love the way you have treats at my disposal at every turn. A hershey's kiss here, a twix bar there, a handful of caramel popcorn, just 'cuz. Just Cuz!
Everywhere we go and everyone I see has candy or can get to candy, relatively easily. I want to thank you, Halloween. I don't know what it is that we are supposed to be celebrating, exactly, but I don't care. I am just happy that I can be part of this candy-thon. The "rules" are we have to dress up to get these treats, but that's not totally true, people are so willing to give out candy throughout the month of October, that a costume is just an added bonus. Even the supermarket gives out treats. It is really a great time for sugar junkies like myself. So I write you this letter, just to say thank you. Thank you just for being you.
Love, Saylor 2 year old, and Michael, 37 year old.
Me- I was thinking that we should have cupcakes for your birthday.
Her- I don't want cupcakes, I want a cake.
Me- Well, I was thinking cupcakes so that you could pass them around to your friends (plus it would be a hella easier to cut, clean, serve. And they would be infinitely cheaper than a cake) .
Her- But, I want a cake.
Me-Ok, yeah, ok, sounds good (I start thinking about picking one up at costco the day before party).
Silence in the car (don't see much of this action. ever)
Her- I want it to be black. With two astronauts holding hands. one is me and one is saylor.
more silence in the car
Her- and I want Jupiter on it. Yes, JUPITERrrrrrrr.
Long pause and more silence.
Me- (in tears thinking how HARD this would be) cupcakes are so much fun, they're like mini cakes, so each person can have one of their very own.
Her- No, I want a cake. Please.
So it'll look like this....but with a black background....two astronauts.....holding hands....Athena instead of Xander....and Jupiter.....the fifth planet from the sun and the solar system's largest.
Saylor had a little lamb whose vagina was full of cheetos.
So we've all read "tentacle bag", right? Well, apparently my 2 year old found out and decided she'd have a blog worthy ditty of her own.
I'm in my kitchen minding my own business or at leastdesperately trying to, and I look over to see a sullen Saylor. This rarely happens, so I decide to ask her...
me- What's wrong baby?
Say- mumbled sheep's vagina dirrrrty.
me- What, bub?
Say- sheep's vagina dirty
me- sheep's what?
she gets up from table and proceeds to shove Sheep's crotch in my face
Say- Cheetos on Sheep's vagina! A mess!
me- Oh. um. ok. let's wash it then.
she gets this huge smile and prances over to the tub and turns on the water
me- no, no, not a bath. I have to wash it in the washing machine. come on, over here.
we go over to washing machine. I toss sheep in.
Say- sheep's clean now!
Me- um, no, baby, not yet
another 8 seconds pass
Say- sheep's clean
Me- no, not yet
rinse. repeat. about 47 times.
Finally! The washing machine is done and now it's time to put her in the dryer. I transfer her from the washer to the dryer and Saylor catches a glimpse of her sheep. This was nearly catastrophic, I tried explaining to her about wet/dry/time/procedures. Nope. She wasn't getting it. Whine, whine, whine. Big fat tears rolling down her face, pout, just sadness all around.
Needless to say I took out the damn, damp sheep after about ten minutes. She grabbed her and hugged and said "sheep's vagina so clean".
Yes, baby, nothing like a clean vagina on a sheep.
I hope that big brother doesn't scan this last sentence and send who ever they send out for that sort of thing.
I wasn't going to write a july 4th post, then I was, but then decided not to. And I can do that kind of wavering cuz it's my blog :)
I did however want to show you the non-beach beach that we are now going to since we have nothing else. Remember this post? Same suits...nice life.
So....we surrender.
I have to tell you, it is growing on me. I don't know if it's because the girls don't care that it's brown/grey, or because it is a big open space that the girls are entertained for hours on end. No land lubber can argue with that.
Do they look like they care, even a teensy weensy bit?
At the country club for a dip in the pool with friends
A Hands On- Art Appreciation class with friends (dollar store supplies and juice included)
Box seats for their favorite show
A leisurely read whilst in bed after their spa treatment (including tearless shampoo and manicure/pedicure with my nail clipper)
The Ooohs and Aaahh of a Summer Blockbuster
A toddler Cotillion....
The summer has just begun, but we have been able to give our daughters so much already. We don't want to go overboard or anything, but we will be attending the community pool later and stopping off at the SnoBall King. Nothing is too good for my girls :)
"is this what you do all day" I have been asked, and I have to say "why, no of course not". (roll eyes and try to think of what exactly it is I do all day if it isn't kid or cuteness related). All new to the mom thing and to the blogging thing so I decided to merge them together as seamlessly as possible. Mother of two chicas and wife to an incredible hombre. Got a toddler's eye view of the world and lol'ing my way through it. I am a Stay At Home Psychotherapist and Cheesecake maker. Both exceptionally similar to me :) I travel extensively (mentally) and even have frequent flier miles to prove it.
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