Sunday, January 20, 2013

481 months....

I think I may have waited a little too long to have my kids.  Why you ask?  Because lately I am feeling like a crabby old lady.  Little things  have been bugging the crap out of me!!  Here are a few examples...

**  Counting a child's age in months past 18 months.  Once you hit 18 months you are a year and a half old...going forward you are either a numbered year or a numbered year "and a half".  For example; a year and a half, 2 years old, 2 and a half years old...you can follow the pattern.  On top of that there comes a certain age that you drop the "and a half".  I was reading an ad for a local story time and it was geared for children "birth to 54 months".  Seriously!  It said that.  I had to think for a moment...secret's out...I suck at math.  It took a bit for it to register they meant birth to 4 and a half.  Why couldn't they just put that?  Maybe I am in the wrong here.  Maybe when filling out paperwork I am really supposed to be putting down 481 months instead of 40 years old.  Maybe that is the new thing to do.  I might try it and see the reaction I get.  It may seem like a small insignificant issue to most but it is like flippin nails on a chalkboard to me.

** Technology.  Ok, that is nothing new...it is well documented that I am not a fan of technology, but technology and children, more specifically my children really is annoying.  We recently got an ipad and an ipod touch.  If it were up to me I would not have spent the money on them, but we got them none the less.  I am pretty strict in limiting the kids use of them.  I want them to be able to "play".  Just play with their toys, learn how to share and take turns and learn all the important life skills that come along with playing.  That and I have no idea how to use either device.  Well, the other day I said something about the "little ipad" and Anna corrects me saying that it is called and ipod, not ipad.  To which I respond, "that is a shame at 3 you know the difference...that means we are failing as your parents."  I know people argue that the kids need these skills.  Really? The only skill I can discern is the ability to swipe your finger across a germ infested piece of glass.  You can learn the same stuff by playing the game Memory, playing with a toy kitchen set, blocks, play-doh etc.  If we are being honest here, yeah, it is a great distraction for them, is fun and it helps parents get a few minutes to themselves but in terms of skills they "need"...I am not convinced a 3 and 5 year old "need" technology.

**  The idea that a child's feelings should be spared at every turn.  All the kid's TV shows always talk about how everyone is special.  I do agree with that...I am not that crabby, but, why is it that so many parents cushion every blow so their children never need to face adversity?  Sorry, not real life!!  You are not going to be invited to every birthday party or play date, you are not going to win every round of Candy Land, and just because you are awake and alert does not mean you deserve a sticker on your sticker chart.  The other day Sara won a running race and Anna said she was the second winner.  I am not proud of this but it just came out...."you know what the second winner is?  Yup, the first loser."  Yikes it may sound harsh...but it is true.  You can't to win em all.  Like with this blog post...I am sure most of you will not like it but hey...like I said...you can't win em all.


To end on a light note here are some of Anna's best quotes this week.

-- I asked her if she had gone pee before bedtime stories.  She told me she did and asked if I heard it.  I told her no, what did it sound like...she answered, "like rainbows sprinkling down."

-- She comes walking out of the bathroom, sans pants of course.  She has her hand behind her back and says to Chuck in a sing song voice, "I bet you can't find my finger."  Chuck gets up and peeks behind her back and sure enough he couldn't find it because it was buried in her ass crack!  Good one Anna!  You tricked Daddy!

Monday, January 14, 2013

Mining for gems

Here are a few gems heard and seen around our house this past week...

*  Sara is back into her rhyming.  She rhymes everything including people's names.  My husband's name is Chuck.  That rhymes with several things.  I will let you sit with that for a moment............................OK then....

*  Last night I was getting CLEAN pajamas out of the drawer.  I took said CLEAN jammies and laid them on the couch.  That is when I felt something sticky on my finger.  I looked and it was a HUGE booger.  For the record my hand/fingers were no where near my nose all day.  Someone really went out of their way to hide the evidence.   Hmmm, here is a thought; it would have been much more convenient and quicker to just get a tissue.  I guess that is what I get for encouraging my kids to be creative in their problem solving.

* At the lunch table the other day Sara said Anna smelled bad.  She then announced that Anna made her smell her butt.  I would have paid money to hear how that conversation went down.  Just thinking out loud hear.... can anyone really make you do something you don't want to?

* The girls were outside at my in-laws.  They had a giant pumpkin outside.  It was really soft and squishy...the kids were having a blast playing with it.  I guess at one point Sara told Chuck that it reminded her of my belly.  Man, was he chomping at the bit when I got home...I think it gave him great pleasure to relay that story to me.  Sara told me too, but she added that although she likes playing with my squishy belly the pumpkin was better because you could poke holes in it with a stick.  Not sure if I should be happy or sad that I was beat out by a pumpkin on the fun scale.

*  Chuck recently got an ipod touch.  Anna loves playing with it.  The other day she was taking pictures with it.  She found some feature that has a little cartoon character guy on the screen and you take a picture of him with a real background.  She was scrolling through  pictures she had taken, describing them to me, "look there is the guy on our couch"..."he is in the toy bin"..."he is on our table"..."look mom, here is a picture of the guy on my vagina".  She took a picture of her crotch and the little cartoon guy was just hanging out there smiling.  Thankfully she had her pants on, but it took all my might to not burst out laughing.  Not sure what I should be reading between the lines here...is she on track to be an amazing photographer or a porn star?  I will, again, let you just sit with that for a moment.

*  I was in my room and overheard this exchange...Chuck found a little piece of hardened poop in Anna's bathroom (also known as the space next to the couch in our living room).  He asked if anyone knew about it.  One of them very quickly threw Ms. Amerigold (our guinea pig) under the bus.  Chuck did not believe them.  And here is why...follow me for a minute...  A wine expert is a "sommelier", a cheese expert, and yes they exist...I found that out at the super shi-shi restaurant we went to for my birthday, is called an "affineur", you're welcome.  Well, apparently Chuck is a "crapineur " because he said, "that is not what her poop smells like, her poop smells different".  For some reason, and I am not entirely sure I want to know why, he can distinguish the distinct subtleties  of our household poop aromas.


And there you have it...our week in words.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Life is short...wear skinny jeans?

So I went out the other night.  Without my children.  Without my husband.  Yup, I know right?  That almost NEVER happens.  But it did.  I was invited out and I accepted.  I knew that it would take some finagling on my part; switch my hours at work, find a sitter for the girls, get ready at work and then drive 75 miles each way, but I am trying to have a new attitude so I threw caution to the wind and went for it!  In the past 6 months several people close to me have been diagnosed with some pretty sh*tty stuff.  Stuff that really makes you stop and smell the roses.  So, not sure if any of you know this or not but I turned 40 a month ago...I may have mentioned it once or twice..  I know, I still throw up in my mouth a little bit each time I hear it too.  So like I have said before; IF I live until 80 I am now half done with my life, if I don't quite make it until 80 then my life is MORE than half over.  I want to make the most of it.  So I decided that I am going to accept as many invitations and participate in as many life events that I can reasonably accommodate.  That being said; my boss let me shift my schedule on Friday night...Chuck came home from work a bit early so I could get to work early (he even went to the ATM for me, filled up the car and let me take his car so I wouldn't look like a total nerd pulling up in the mini-van...what a nice guy!) I colored the gray roots in my hair, did 2 nights of my Neutrogena build a tan and plucked the grays out of my eyebrows.  I was ready.  But wait...I had nothing cool to wear.  I was meeting up with some of the people I used to work with.  Most of them I hadn't seen in 3 years.  We were just going to a bar/restaurant but I wanted to look as if I belonged out in society.  Not like a mom that had thrown in the towel.  I looked through my closets and the only presentable things I have are my work clothes.  Meh.  I didn't want to go to the bar looking like a social worker.  Not that I am a social worker it is just that Child Life Specialists, for the most part, dress like  social workers...layered cardigans and dress pants are the unofficial uniform of the Child Life Community.  Fine for going to Panera for lunch but I was going to a bar.  I wanted to somewhat fit in with the crowd...not have all the revelers think I am working for the ABCC coming to crack down on fake ID's.  What to wear?  What to wear?

SKINNY JEANS!!!  Of course, that is what all the cool kids are wearing!!  Sara has 2 pairs for Christ' s sake.  She is 5 and trendier than me.  I have lost a decent amount of weight this past year (31.6 pounds if you are curious...YAY me!!) and my friend was just telling me it was time to buy new pants.  She was sick of seeing my underwear hang out of my jeans.  I tried to tell her that jeans halfway down your ass were all the rage but then she reminded me that I am not an adolescent boy and that the trend also included colorful boxers and not flowery Hanes her Way undies.  Point taken...off I went to get some new jeans.  How hard could this be?  Ha- Ha...it took me 3 stores and about 12 pairs of skinny jeans until I found the pair I bought.  I ended up in the dressing room at Old Navy surrounded by all kinds of skinny jeans "the Diva", "the Flirt", "the Sweetheart"... these were the actual names of the jeans.  I did have 2 very helpful teenagers helping me...oh and Sara.  So the 3 girls get together and decide on a pair for me.  They are called...are you ready for this?..."rock star super skinny jeans"...I sh*t you not...that is even embroidered on the inside of the jeans...lest you forget you are a rock star.  I, for the record, am not a rock star but again, I threw caution to the wind and bought them.  I think the Old Navy girls play a little game amongst themselves when a woman of a particular age comes in and wants to buy something cool...the salesperson that convinces them to buy the most ridiculous, age IN-appropriate piece of clothing wins.  And the winner is...Ashley.  She had me at, "anyone can wear skinny jeans...they make everybody look good...and they are so in style right now"...SOLD!!

I come home and try them on...it is the first time Chuck is speechless.  Is that a good speechless like his wife is such a super hot rock star that he has no words? Or is a bad speechless like Oh My God his wife looks ridiculous and he doesn't know how to convey that in a delicate way without crushing his wife's self esteem?  All he did finally manage to say was he wasn't used to seeing me in such tight pants.  Hmm...not sure how to take that but I forged on with my plan.  Skinny jeans are all the rage.  Society can't be wrong.  Right?

So Friday night comes and I get changed at work.  I have the jeans on, a black turtle neck with a chunky necklace and of course some black boots.  I dug out my super cute and ridiculously uncomfortable black boots which I may have mentioned in an earlier post.  You can not wear skinny jeans without boots, at least that is what the Old Navy teens told me.

I am driving the hour and a half to the bar and I am all excited to be out on a Friday night.  I am singing along with the radio...I am really getting into it...it was like I was putting on a live concert for the imaginary people in the car.  Then it hits me.  I have been singing along to a CD I made years ago.  The updated version of a mix tape if you will.  Sadly, the mix includes Chicago, James Taylor and Linda Ronstadt...Linda effing Ronstadt!!  Oh My GOD!!!  I am not fighting the good fight!  I am a middle aged woman trying to relive a little bit of her glory days!! It was 5:30 in the evening and I was drinking a coffee to give myself a little extra "pep".  WTF?  I just said "pep"  old people say that!!  Am I am going to be the old lady at the bar trying a little too hard to fit in all the while drinking a glass of Chardonnay?  I remember seeing her back in my fake ID days...back at the Spaghetti Club in Cambridge.  Am I her?  I turn the radio down and take stock of the situation.  OK, for the record I don't look 40.  At least I don't think I do.  The pants were a bit tight and hot...kind of felt like I had old fashioned long johns on.  But damn it...I think I look OK.  I am not her!  40 is the new 20.  Screw that!  I am going to walk into that bar with my head held high.

I get to the bar and meet up with the old crew.  Since I had a long drive back I was not drinking alcohol.  So for better or worse I had all my faculties in place all night.  I think it may have been for worse.  As the night went on the music was getting louder and annoying as all hell.  I literally had to yell to have a conversation with the girl right next to me.  As my friend said everyone in there was about 6 years old.  OK, MAYBE 21.  The bar was in a college town so I am pretty confident in saying many of them were there with their fake ID's.  So in all likelihood I was at least 20 years older than the majority of the crowd.  But man I was rocking the skinny jeans (in my head anyway).  In reality they were way too tight and man they were hot!  They did make my legs look tiny but every time I sat on the bar stool I could feel them slip down, fear not though, my mommy undies were half way up my back so thankfully I was not rocking the plumber's crack.  Speaking of my ass...I really don't have one to speak of... at least not in the right place.  If you have been following my blog from the beginning you may remember that I have a "skin apron" or a front bum.  If I could have spun my lower half around like you can a Barbie doll I would have worn the sh*t out of those jeans.  You see, my real backside is flat, but the skinny jeans compacted my front bum into this nice, tight rounded sphere....if, like I said my bottom half could have been in reverse I would have been the suburban mom's answer to Kim Khardasian...minus the sex tape, sham marriage and total lack of morals. 

I do think skinny jeans will have a positive impact on society as a whole...I think they will help cut down on unwanted pregnancies, curb STD rates and decrease the incidence of one night stands...and here is why;  while they may look sexy, they are friggin impossible to get off!!  You have to literally peel them off of your body and not in a sexy, come hither kind of way.  More like peeling off wet jeans while trying to keep your balance, contorting into weird positions as every belly and back roll is exposed only to get the jeans stuck around your ankles as you trip over them.  Not sexy. 

So, while I did have a great time with my friends that night, the skinny jeans were an epic fail.  I did feel like I was trying too hard to look like a younger, hipper version of myself.  So I will still keep accepting the invites but I think I am going to stick with my boot cut jeans...

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

You say you want a resolution...

OK, I know some of you will think it is a sacrilege to twist the Beatles' Lyrics...I say it is just a witty blog title.   It is New Year's Day.  Time to make a big resolution...declaring you will change your life in some big dramatic fashion; lose weight, exercise everyday, stop smoking, etc, etc.  Then about 2 weeks in (if you last that long) you will fall off the wagon and feel like a total and utter failure.  It is kind of bold to think that you can change your life at the stroke of midnight.  A few years ago I stopped making such grand resolutions.  I hated feeling like a chump on or around January 14th.  Instead I make one small, little resolution that should I fail at really won't make me feel all the bad about myself.  Surprisingly the past two years I have been able to stick to them.  In 2010 I decided to make my bed every day.  I know many of you may do that already...it is not a huge chore but for me it was.  I would either just leave it all crumpled up or just  halfheartedly throw the covers up.  There have only been a handful of days over the past 2 years that I have not made my bed.  See, a simple change that really does bring a sense of satisfaction...there is something comforting about crawling into a crisp made bed at the end of the day, however, if for some reason I don't get to it my world is not going to end.  2012 brought the "one minute rule".  In an effort to keep my house from falling to pieces, if something will take a minute or less to do I do it right then and there.  Socks on the floor...I put them in the hamper.  The floor needs to be swept I just do it.  Stuff like that.  It has been working well.  So what is on tap for this year you ask?  Well, I have been thinking about it a lot.  If I were to go the traditional route of getting healthy or working on my own personal happiness it would be a set up for instant failure.  You see, those two things are working against each other.  My personal happiness would include risotto, cream sauce and sitting on the couch watching trash TV...not so healthy.  So I guess happiness is out this year.  Fear not, for I have come up with a resolution.  I was really struggling with this the other day.  I was walking into work thinking about this very issue when I had to walk past a group of smokers.  WTF?  Then it hit me.  I am not a pirate...there is no reason I should talk like one.  This is not something I am proud of but I do have a bit of a potty mouth.  Truth be told I sometimes sound like a truck driver....and yes, I do kiss my children with that mouth.  Chuck hates it and comments on it all the time.  He doesn't want the kids to pick up the habit.  I agree, it is a disgusting habit to have...however, in my defense, I lived on my own for a long time before I had children.  Swearing just became part of my of my daily vocab.  I get junk mail and I may comment about the sh*t they are sending me.  What the hell is that?  Is a question often asked.  Again, not proud of it...just being honest.  Here is the ironic part...since it is part of my daily conversation the kids don't really notice.  I guess since it is kind of used in appropriate context they don't really pick up on it.  The other day Chuck was driving and called someone a jackass.  Anna grabbed onto that one right away.  Hey daddy, what is a jackass?  Ha-Ha!!!  It wasn't me they learned that one from!!!  Back to my resolution...I am going to try really hard to not swear as much this year.  I am not going to do anything crazy like make a swear jar that I have to put a quarter in with each infraction because, sh*t, we know that will be full in no time!!  I am just going to try and temper myself...I think this may just be my biggest effing challenge yet!!  Wish me luck!!

Happy New Year everyone!!