United States of Motherhood: February 2007

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Evil Costco Samples


I rarely buy the products I sample at Costco...and yet, I still sample them like a college student seeks free food. However, yesterday I was finally lured to the dark side.

Costco has this new product: The Greek Gods honey Flavoured Traditional Greek Yogurt. It's free of cow hormones, but that is not why I bought it. I bought it for it's thick, honeyed goodness and almost goat cheesy tang. I bought it for its rich mouth feel and silky, velvety melt in your mouth taste. Yum! So you should translate that as this is the first time I have eaten full-fat (10 grams ) yogurt after 10 years of non-fat Yoplait.

But wait! There's more.... I bought it in two 24-ounce packages (Yep, Costco alright) and there's maybe 1 cup left. Moreover, I didn't eat the most of it. The kids LOOOOVE it! I told them it tasted better than ice cream (Sorry, honey, I know you work for an ice cream company and they are responsible for the fat bonus we are getting, but it's still betta!)

As we speak, remains I am snacking on attract Eldest's attention. He opens his mouth like a baby bird for a bite. Before I know it, he snatches the container and those remains are being heartily consumed by eldest. His quote, in Eygore accent, " Sooooo Guuuuud!"

The logical businessman in my husband says that products that are put out for sampling at Costco tend to sell 3-4 times more product. Apparently, there's also this $1000 a week in product sold minimum bar to stay at Costco. According to the stocking clerk, as he directed me to the yogurt, there were only 12 boxes left of the 150 they put out yesterday. By my calculations, they may have met that bar in one week-end. So check it out! This yogurt may be the next Wii, Tickle Me Elmo, or Ferbie. Get it while it's there!

Thursday, February 22, 2007

'*uck the Cup

What's in your Starbucks cup?

I went to http://www.mystarbuckstshirt.com/ to get my shirt from Project Runway star Michael Knight. Those fuckbucks were out of their phantom t-shirts for the day, but here's what it would have looked like:



I have got to say I love both Knight and Starbucks--and not just because I live in the Seattle area or my sister manages a Starbucks either. I have always LOVED coffee--both the idea of it as child in a Mormon household and the taste. My Mom would slip me Coffee Nip candies as a child all the time, which were my favorite. She claims and still claims to this day that it's not real coffee. Ahem...


Anyway, I have charming memories as a teenager with a love affair with coffee in a Mormon household. Mom, thankfully, never did let on that she knew I had a coffee maker brewing coffee in my closet. She didn't even comment on the gurgling of the cheap coffee maker burping. And she and I both loved Jamoca (again no coffee in there) Almond Fudge. Until my husband who works for a prominent ice cream company actually saw coffee ice cream being made with pure coffee extract, did I start to become a doubter myself.


So what's your drink? Mine, as the picture indicates, is a Venti Drip (No African roasts--only medium/full bodied/no acid like Italian Roast) with one to two shots espresso, room for cream, fake sugar, no whip. Yep, your run of the mill "Shot in the Dark." It works for me. I like the flavors of both brewed and espresso together--more complex if I have to use my snotty java aficionado cap.


I do admit though to drinking gads of Peppermint Mochas in December with disgusting amounts of pumpkin scones or Cranberry-Bliss bars. In summer, I am very partial to an extra strong Black Shaken Tea with two pumps of syrup-I am so over Frappuchinos. And the Green Tea Latte is perfect for spring. It even makes the crevices in your teeth a mossy green color just in time for St. Paddy's Day.


Yet, the best is my own freshly ground, home-brewed, double strength coffee with a shot of double strong espresso from my husband's Capresso. All that mixed with that wonderful invention-- the "non-fat half and half." Who knows what they put in that to make it the right viscosity and really, who cares. The coffee will kill you before the guar gum.

EEETTT'S A-LIIIIVVVVVVEEEE


So, after spending a couple hours corralling and coaching 5th Graders with the urge for self-mutilation by cutting cardboard with dull pocket knives and hacksaws with their _____ (insert word: leg, finger, friend's neck) underneath said cardboard with myself having no affinity for power tools and electric staple guns, I crashed hard time.


I had made a promise to myself to not coach Destination Imagination this year. Last year, it somewhat sucked the life out of me. And yet, I found myself subbing for my eldest's new coach who had the flu. She's also a good friend or else, I would have laughed in the face of anyone who asked me to coach again. Anyway, it went well and we are 1/10 closer as a team to being slightly prepared for the competition next week. Ack! Again, so glad I am not the full time coach.


Swim practice was cancelled for the afternoon, so after homework, I capitulated to son #1 working on his science fair a.k.a. "Slime From the Black Lagoon" project. I grabbed a glass of wine and retreated to the family room. I did insist beforehand on a plastic tablecloth when I heard that he and his lab assistant minions (PB & L'il Man) otherwise known as Eygore #1 and #2, planned to use blue food coloring and a gallon of Elmer's glue.


I also suggested that the experiment be recorded for actual science fair productivity on actual paper--CG Replicant/Eldest/Dr. Frankenstein thought he would remember all the variations of borax, water, and food coloring from memory. This would be the same memory that constantly forgets essential books for homework and can't seem to hold a thought for more than 30 seconds when it comes to cleaning the ______ (insert word: his hell-hole of a room, the disaster of the play room, the dog-poop laden backyard which specifically is his job).


Anyway, through my "fuck it, the house is a disaster, I don't care what they do in there" attitude, I hear manical laughter. Eldest says ih his best accent which is quite good, "I am a real Mad Scientist. I am genius!"


Why, do you ask, does he says this?


"What makes me a true mad scientist? I have a mechanical pencil!! Ah-ah-ah!"


Um, okay! Like his father's irrational love of mechanical pencils, I didn't have the heart to tell him that, "No, sweetheart, that makes you a geek."


As if there was any doubt, CG and CG Replicant are DEFINITELY related. Yep!

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Feeling Pink

No, silly, I didn't feel up a pop star with a pink 'do.

No, I did some blog fluffing. Still nothing cool.

I need to find the time to come up with a cool masthead.

Umm, sure, next decade.

So, pink will have to do. So very princess, girlie of me.

Princess Baby would be proud.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Friendly Neighborhood Food Pusher

So the diet and treadmill while blogging hasn't been working out. In fact, working out lately for me is a big, FAT joke. That said, I know I need to persevere.


After some thought, I came up with an observation. All my truly skinny friends are food pushers. My mother, who was always 10 lbs. underweight growing up, was always pushing food as well. My 6'4" Dad went from 180 to well over 300 lbs. during their marriage. See what I mean! That's right.


These pushers do snack constantly as if sampling their own innocent wares, but they seem to get their enjoyment from food by making it and GIVING it away to others--and often me. So, maybe I should follow their tactics. Make luscious banana bread, wrap it up and send it's evil fat grammy heavy loaf-y-ness to someone else. Carrot cake cookies with spicy goodness and thick cream cheese frosting--off you go!


When I think of it this way, what once I thought was altruism from the skinnies is quite dastardly evil. Well, let the malevolent culinary kung-fu commence, shall we? What can I make you today? Do we feel like some Death by Chocolate, eh, my pretty?

Monday, February 19, 2007

Daddy-Daughter Dance



Princess Baby went to a Daddy-Daughter dance last week with CG. Oh, to be a fly on the wall.

They were so cute. She looked like a little princess. She came back with tales of limbos and cute heart shaped picture frames.

CG said that as soon as she found some friends, he was abandoned to hang out with the other dads.

She's growing up so fast...

Makes a Smile in my Heart

Now this is entertainment! There's nothing like a good Bollywood(or in this case, Kollywood) video to take the bite out of a cold, dark, rainy, dreary Seattle afternoon:



Enjoy!

PS Is it just me or is the male star of the video look like a George Michael Indian doppelganger?

Sugar, Honey Honey

Check out this sweet little video:



Purr...

Okay, once again, we must revisit the subject of Dr. Rey as Mormon. I spoke to one of my sisters who is still a practicing Mormon and she said the LDS church has come out against plastic surgery for vanity. Hmmm.... So that doesn't look to good.

Then there's this video:



For those of you who don't know, practicing Mormons wear special underwear called "garments." Think silky white t-shirts and shorts somewhat like biker shorts. There are religious reasons for these garments and they have symbols sewn into the garments. Furthermore, they serve a dual purpose to maintain modesty. I often use these garment lines to suss out Mormons. My husband also looks for the archetypal Utah missionary haircut. That method is not as reliable. But the garments, that's a sure thing. They even make special camouflaged garments for Mormons in the Army.

So, back to the video, there is NO way he's wearing garments therefore, he must be inactive in the Mormon faith. Just my theory. Well that and assplants and breast augmentations seem a bit vain.

Still, Mormon or not, Dr. Rey is a hottie. Rawr! However, with a 88 lb. wife, he might think about augmenting her. I think I have a leg that weighs that much! (sigh!)

The Game of Life

So I mentioned that we held a birthday party for my eldest this weekend. Very belated. So six-month late belated, he received cards for eleven year olds because everyone thought he was turning eleven. Oops!

So my little CG Replicant received the game Life from his girlfriend. I use the word girlfriend loosely. They have both admitted to liking the other, and yet, unlike other 5th grade crushes, they still talk to each other. This is a new phenomenon for me. I am a little taken aback at their maturity.

So the girlfriend bought him the Sponge Bob version of Life. Her mother took me aside to give me a gift receipt since she was sure a 5th grade boy probably wouldn't want it. Well, the girlfriend had it right. My eldest loved it. Yet, I'm not sure who was happier with the game--my son or my husband. You see, my husband CG, has a bizarre, embarassing passion for Sponge Bob, which drives me crazy. He beams with pride if I can actual mention any knowledge about characters of the show.

So last night we had some family quality time playing Life with too many Krabby patties. In typical fashion, my 5th grader spent the time trying to cheat or sulking. Princess Baby played poor innocent helpless girl and insisted on playing on her Daddy's team, and I used this, as banker, as a tool to teach mathematics skills to L'il Man. My husband CG used the game as a moral platform to expound upon the fact that choosing a job that brought pleasure--such as being the police man $500 salary over being Mr. Krabbs/Business Owner $700 salary--was far superior to a salary. U-huh! Sure! What Evah!

So, I, not having any character favorites, chose the highest salary (Fry Chef $700) and the home with the cheapest rent (Grandma's House $300) amidst groans of horror from the peanut gallery that I really didn't want to live at Grandma's. Well, guess who won at the game of Life? Yep, me! And, ignoring all CG's moral admonishments, guess how it was decided who won? Yep, green backs baby. I'm sure there's a Republican gem in all this or perhaps a life philosophy, but to be honest, in real life, I highly doubt I would have chosen the low rent home. But, I would love for CG in real life to be pursuing that Fry Chef mentality over being "fulfilled and deriving pleasure" from being a Groundskeeper.

P.S. The highlight of the evening was when my eldest insisted that everyone go to college--the brainwashing is working!

Wesssssst Viginia

So busy ignoring this blog that I didn't even notice I picked up a reader from West Virginia.

Yep, ladies and gents, only nine more states to go:

Alaska, Hawaii, Montana, New Hampshire, New Mexico, North Dakota,
Rhode Island, South Dakota, and Wyoming

In honor of breaking 41 states, here are some facts to highlight West Virginia:

West Virginia State and/or County Laws
  • No children may attend school with their breath smelling of "wild onions."
  • It is illegal to snooze on a train.
  • Doctors and dentists may not place a woman under anesthesia unless a third person is present.
  • According to the state constitution, it is unlawful for anyone to own a red or a black flag.
  • If you wear a hat inside a theater, you may be fined.
  • Roadkill may be taken home for supper.
  • Whistling underwater is prohibited.
  • One may not walk a lion, tiger or leopard, even on a leash.
  • No member of the clergy is allowed to tell jokes or humorous stories from the pulpit during a church service.
  • Firemen may not whistle or flirt at any woman passing a firehouse.
  • It is legal to beat your wife so long as it is done in public on Sunday, on the courthouse steps.

It's a good thing I don't live in West Virgin-ey. After a few of my blogs today, I am sure my husband might like to go on a day trip to a court house.

Literate...Maybe

I am a collector of books that I never have time to read. I probably have thirty to forty hard bound books stacked through out the house, ready for that self-indulgent spare couple of hours to read. I voraciously snatch up books at library book sales, knowing their $2 a hardback is more frugal than the late fines for books I could borrow which I never read. So, the books stack up. Yes, I've been kidding myself.




So, with all the craziness of my life for the past few weeks, I find myself triumphant. I found the time to read a WHOLE book. Truly, it wasn't heavy reading. Just a piece of fluff that actually resonated with my college-educated, stay-at-home pity party. It was Danielle Crittenden's amanda bright@ home. And, yet, I find my chest puffed up with pride that I made the time, at red lights and while waiting patiently in the pre-school pick up queue, to actually read words written on actual paper.



The last real book I read I am ashamed to say was 84 Charing Cross Road by Helen Hanff. That book was read LAST August and only because a good friend gave it to me as a birthday gift. It didn't hurt it was only 112 pages and perfect to read during a summer swimming practice.

How I expect to go back to 1200 pages a week reading loads when I go to law school is beyond me...

Why I Should Vote for My Husband?

My husband says he gets teased a lot from his liberal Bay Area co-workers for being red. Little do they know! I find out this weekend that he thought Obama was a Republican! 'Nuff said.


I'll be marking his ballot book from now on. What will be his response you all ask? He'll probably say, "What else is new?" He has used my ballot book in the past as a cheat sheet.


Yes, my political minions, I WILL rule the world one husband at a time. Yep, just like Hillary...

Twenty-One Day Self-Exile


So, it's been 3 weeks since I even looked at my blog. In that time, 180 people came a-visiting. Why? Don't know because I wasn't even visiting my blog, and I certainly wasn't doing any blogging.

So what happens in the meantime? Hillary Clinton INVADED my blog. What the Fuck! There are Google Ads plastered everywhere to buy "I (heart) Hillary" buttons, bumper stickers, etc. Gak! Do me a favor? Don't click on these sites. Don't look! They'll make your eyes burn. Maybe if we pretend she isn't here, she'll go away?

I feel evil in our presence...

Fine!

Okay, someone finally snapped me out of my zombie state. Thank you Anonymous Commentator! The comment was,

"Gee, where'd you go? Lean too far to the right and fall over?"

Yes, you --and specifically not my husband--gave me my first smile of the morning.

Life's been hectic here and I made a conscious decision to concentrate more on my kids and life and less on blogging. It can be addicting you know. I think what really put it over the edge was the fact that I am playing single mom for something like 5 1/2 weeks.

My God, it feels like we are in the Army again! Yep, bastard husband abandoned me for his stinking job. Okay, given that job does pay the mortgage, but fuck-almighty-Monday through Friday from late January through the first week of March seems a bit excessive. Yes, he does come home for week-ends, but that doesn't help me on the mid-week days when I have lost my sanity screaming at my kids to behave, with no one to back me up. I actually lost my voice screaming in my SUV at 70 miles per hour on I-90 at my rebellious progeny. I took up using a soccer whistle to get their attention over the cacophony of whining, screaming for the sheer joy of screaming, and talking back. No joke!

It also doesn't help with the amazing time conflicts of pre-school, AM swim practice, PTA Board meetings, extracurriculars, coop pre-school volunteering and early start elementary school (notice none of these activities are for me)--usually we divide these and conquer. Yes, we are an over-scheduled family, but our schedule has been based on my husband working from home to help out getting two kids moving in opposite directions or saving smallest child from terminal boredom (and subsequent tears)rather than dragging him along to do nothing for hours at every practice. Lately, I am always really late (as opposed to being constantly only slightly late). I am so sick of constantly apologizing for being 15 minutes late here and 20 there.

The best however was that my husband was at a conference in the fucking wine country at a spa on Valentine's Day--actually the whole week. Due to an incredibly insensitive, but nameless higher up, spouses were specifically NOT invited. Anyhoo, CG called me to boo-hoo how the schedule was so long. It turns out he also got a $65 haircut there (It's been over a year since I've gotten a haircut that wasn't me hacking in despair at my own hair --much less a $65 one from someone named Rudolpho). How about the the freakin' Nazi interment camp with your three kids, two dogs, way too much to do, and no time?! I am working on 4 hours sleep a night, breaking out with acne reminiscent of age 12 from the stress, dealing with car problems, and we've been eating peanut butter sandwiches or fast food at 1 hour past bedtime every night because there is no time to shop or cook, and you don't like your hotel room?!? I believe I killed at least 3 bottles of wine that week alone trying to decompress at the end of the day when the kids finally fell asleep. Then it kills me to read in his blog how he left early to "decompress" from work at 5 PM to have drinks and dinner in a cute former Bordello with friends or how he Yelped about time spent in Baltimore at a cozy cafe because he had the afternoon to kill.

All of this coincided with my eldest having two book reports, a ridiculously time consuming Explorer project (poster with tea stained paper, burnt pages, hand drawn portraits and an essay, bibliography, and eight minute oral report) and deadlines for the required science fair--all that the same time. Let's not forget Valentine's Day parties to coordinate for classrooms, 2 school concerts--one with required costume, a really belated (6 months late) birthday party at the swim pool for TWENTY-ONE 5th graders, and three swim meets taking up the entire weekends when CG is home. The best yet was when I realized my husband was working today on President's Day, when all three kids are off. I start raging about his job when it turns out that he was the clod that scheduled this week on yet another holiday.

Yep, I have been feeling a little brittle, and whining on my blog has been the last thing on my mind. But since you asked...

No, I think I fell backwards to the fifties with non-existent help from my husband who comes back horny and groping-like and thinks that yelling at the kids over their table manner, washing HIS car, and doing HIS laundry over the weekend just to pack it up again on Sunday night makes up for it all. Yes dears, I've fallen and can't get up. Yep, just a tad bitter right now. Oh, I forgot the best part. When he is here, he spends time wrapped up in a Internet game of Risk with work buddies he just spent the week with or Yelping about his experiences and hotel reviews. Would it kill him to fertilize the lawn? Clean out the garage? Pick up the pile of stuff that covers the surfaces of his side of the bedroom? Would it kill him while eating out nightly and having cocktails in the company of adults to NOT complain about the amount I spent at Costco buying wine to medicate, convenience foods to eat while he is gone, gasoline to ferry your kids in a SUV that gets 12 MPH, roses weekly for me because I fucking deserve them, and yes, a few impulse purchases for the house? Yes, it was $1700 in a month, but honey, deal with it! Shall we compare your expense report to my spending for four? You don't want to go there!

Okay, rant over.

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