United States of Motherhood: January 2008

Thursday, January 31, 2008

Do You Want Some Pie With That Award?

This blog is brought to you by the yummy goodness we call Strawberry-Rhubarb Pie.

We bought dinner straight from the grocery store last night since CG had class and we weren't getting home until 7ish from swim practice.

After quickly scarfing their roasted, processed, rotisserie chicken goodness with some equally healthy three cheese macaroni and warm french bread, the kids started the homework with the promise of pie after they ALL were done.

Well, with their ridiculous amount of homework and a big test to study for for Eldest, their bedtime came and went.

So I sent them to bed without pie.

I felt sleep was more important than my promise. They don't get enough of it lately.

They weren't upset though. No whines. No tears. No hurled insults of disparagement toward this Mommy.

Why? Because I promised an even better promise. (wait for it)

I promised they could eat pie FOR BREAKFAST.

They were incredulous.

I was smug because now I know it's a sure thing...

I am the coolest mom in the world.


I think it's time for the first 2008 pin-up mother of the year award:

"Let Them Eat Pie!" Mommy Antoinette says.

By the way, CG's been trying to get me to wear an apron and nothing else in the kitchen. Let's hear all the Mommies groan in unison. I said whatever. So not going to go there. Oil splatters really smart.

Still Feeling the Spirit of Christmas

I'm packing up the Christmas tree in my family room today.

Why today???

...Because it would be embarrassing to have up a Christmas tree in February!


Catch up, people!

Feeling Green

These blue eyes...

Were feeling green today...

Yes, those were all for him. All FIVE of them as requested. Bleck. He ate every last juicy bit.

Then he asked for more.

Kiwi is a vile, revolting fruit, but he likes it. And, it makes up for his "breakfast" this morning.

More on that later.

Praise Jebesus! Have Some Banana Pudding!

Holy Hallelulah! The kids are back in school without snow delays.

We ended up adding a day to the end of school, but all in all, the older kids got off lightly.

Now, this poor half day kindergartner has missed something like 5-6 days of school, but apparently they don't have to make that up. Ridiculous! Only if the whole school misses school do they make it up!

Li'l Man's class only attends for 2-1/2 hours when the full-day kinders go for six and a half. Snow delays meant the half-day kindergarten classes were cancelled--even if the half day was in the afternoon and the rest of the school was in session.

We've, in essence, missed a week of school, but the half-day kids don't get to make it up. Is it even fair or logical to say the half-day and full-day cover the SAME curriculum? I call bull-shite!

We moved to Washington for the schools, and in general, we have been happy, but this is starting to rankle. I guess every school district has some asshated-ness. This would be the Issaquah school district's flaw.

By the way, did I mention that we start testing next week?

Yep, you heard me right. We have standardized testing in Kindergarten. They've spent all last week learning to bubble, when most of them won't be able to read the questions.

They are working on covering their answers and "just guessing," even though the kindergarten newsletter stated that historically, kinders do absolutely abyssmal on these tests, so we parents shouldn't worry.

What the bloody hell!

I'm all for testing as an indicator, but kindergarten really seems a little premature, don't you think? Did I mention all last week was spent on district assessments of these little guys and one-on-one testing as well?

So, for now, I'm having my little guy read--a lot--which he likes. Hopefully, it will help. We do math workbooks. We are trying to prepare.

But all might be for naught if he doesn't get the bubbling right. His teacher gaily asks the class,

"Class, if we scribble, make marks, or don't bubble correctly, what happens?"

Little, shiny bright faces light up with the answer. Hands wave wildly. I hear desperate cries of, "I know. I know."

"Let's all say it together, class."

"The machine goes BANANAS and spits your test out."

Can I say this Mom thinks it's BANANAS to be testing kids who attend school for less time than pre-school and have missed a week?

Can I say some of these kids have the attention span of a gnat so getting them to fill out bubbles smells like rotten BANANAS?

I have an idea where the school district can shove that banana and it ain't pretty.

P.S. Don't get me wrong. I like their teacher. She is just doing what she's required to do.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

We-wun Wednesday

Okay, I'm so fickle with this blog. Some weeks I post constantly and others I act like a dried up old va-jay-jay. Cold, uncaring, and barring all entry.

I'm shocked to see I have 34 readers today because, most of time, I'm barren of thought. Thanks, bi-otches.

Any-hoo-hoo, I missed my blog birfday. (sniffle) Don't be silly, that's my snot-plugged nose, not real tears.

So, it's been 14.67 months since I started. Whoop!

There's been over 6,100 booty calls.

Washington and California love me. Texas, New York, and Georgia like to tease.

The UK and Australia are my fuck-buddies.

Canada, you almost get it up.

Did I mention that somewhere during all this I finally, finally got my 50 States Project completed? I got Montana--without telling my sister about my blog--who happens to live in Montana. Yeah, baby!

So, in celebration, I'm posting my all time most popular (that means like 10 3 of you read it) posts according to Google Analytics :

9. One Handed Bra-Unhookers-R-Us Have I mentioned CG's uncanny talent with bras?

8. The Reveal Show: Self-Hair Shearing When I lost it, cut 8 inches off my own head, & took pics.

7. Call Me a Cougar Did you know CG was a younger man?

6. High School Inadequacy: Peeping Tom Mommy Looking up every person I might have gone to high school with on classmates.com and leaving a trail so they all I knew I was there.

5. Shoeless in Seattle: My Feet Walking barefoot in Seattle because of stupid shoes

4. Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha-Heart Just gotta love Regina

3. Foot Fetish Yep, CG likes his wife's feet. Really likes them. So does half of Flickr apparently.

2. Marital Secrets: My Sheets Are Sand Dunes How often do CG & I have sex? Read it here.

1. Yo Ungrateful Bi-otch My attempt to give out beautiferous awards to people--still don't know anyone who actually displayed it's magnificence on their blog. Leave me a comment and I'll give you an award.

So, these are not necessarily my most favorite posts, but they, for some reason, drive tons of traffic to my blog.

So, let's get this straight, you guys like awards, sex, feet, shoes, insecurity, my embarrassing moments, sex,and, oh yeah, feet.

Yep, we were made for each other baby! Y'all come back now, ya he-ah!


Okay, I'm alive, despite being so pathetic. CG came home and after registering disappointment in my vitamin binge, made me an antidote.

Oohey-Goooey peanut-butter and strawberry jam on wheat seemed to stay off my overdose.

That said, my tummy was a bit off and you wouldn't have wanted to use a ten foot pole near the bathroom door this morning. Or, in denial like always, maybe I felt that way, not from my gullet of gummi-vites, but because of the yards of snot that have been running down my throat for days. So sick.

In other news, this is day jagillion of late starts for school due to snow. It dropped 26 inches in the mountains, so apparently that makes the buses here not work--40 minutes away. F*ck-N*ts! Eldest doesn't go to school until 11 AM.

Did I mention they've been bickering? Where, oh, where did my close-knit, loving children go? They've been replaced by tasmanian devils on crack, bullies, and cry babies. UGH!

PB came running into the office this morning absolutely sobbing. Checking for injuries, she finally sniffles," (Eldest) called me a retard!"

Oh, the horrors of my retard son calling her a retard.

I just don't know where he gets it. (Shrug!)

Please, God, stop being a retard and stop these snow days.

Note: You might want to stay away from me--the lightening from the heavens will get you if the plague I have doesn't!

Tuesday, January 29, 2008


So, want to hear about my latest snarf session?

Too bad I'm telling you anyway.

We haven't shopped here for weeks so fresh vegetables...who am I kidding...ice cream and craptacular snacks have not been plentiful.

So, dying for something sweet this evening, I came up empty. Nothing in my pantry.


Suddenly, my eyes spy something sweet and tarty. "He-llo my pretty," I cackle to myself.

Then, I grabbed a hand full of these:

And these:

Yep, the kids have Costco size gummy vitamins and sour gummy calcium. I seriously just ate a handful. Yep, at least 5-6 of EACH. Who-ey--that's like 1000 percent of my RDA of everything.

So NOT kidding.

Luckily, the kids were fighting over the TV upstairs and CG's doing some silly Jott interest group tonight (Hi CG!), so no one knows.

Well, except you! If you don't hear from me in a while, do me a favor and call 911.

Iron poisoning can be quite a bitch and I have done my share of irresponsible vitamin overdosing in the past. Last time I ate 4 bottles. Seriously.

Of course, I might have been four that time.

Can't say I have an excuse this time except they were yummy. I know, I know. I'm your own worse nightmare.

Did I mention that they were yummy?

Thinking Fondly of Those Two Dollar Bills

While I was taking a break from blogging this holiday, my beloved Grandmother passed away surrounded by loved ones in her home of 70 years that she built with her husband.

Attending her funeral with the majority of my siblings in Utah, I was hit with almost joy. Being in her later 90's, she was ready to go. She had been in unendurable pain and bed-ridden for the past few years.

Before that, in her early 90's, she had been so active. She was known for still going up on her roof shoveling snow and tending to her acre size garden by hand irrigation. (I can only hope to be that active.)

She had lived a full, active life and she was being reunited with her husband who had passed away 30 years before. We celebrated her life rather than mourning her passing.

Grandma was so ready, she had planned out her funeral in advance down to the last detail. Beyond coffin choices and flowers, she had picked speakers and assigned topics and chose musical selections. A grandson representing each family was asked months before to be pall bearers. The program given out before the service was just waiting for a filled in date when she died. My aunt and and her daughter were given a duet to practice for the service last year. Even the luncheon menu was chosen my Grandma.

So, you can imagine, the service felt very much as if Grandma was with us. She had been definitely ready to go, so she got the details out of the way; Grandma believed in being prepared, so that we could laugh at the well-prepared stories, listen to the beautiful duets, and yes, shed a few tears.

I did discover a surprising fact while in Utah. Apparently, Utah Mormons don't wear black to funerals. My black clad siblings and I encountered holiday dresses and floral church wear. We were a bit of a spectacle in our sombre attire.

Who knew! I guess we all grieve and pay our respects in our own way. One little cousin even showed a bit of censure in her voice (if a three year old can approximate censure) when she asked why we wore black because it "wasn't allowed." Oops! Ah well. We Californian cousins are a wacky bunch.

Not surprisingly, my mother knew of this aversion to black (too Catholic she said) being an Utah Mormon once and wore a mossy green, but she didn't pass this fact on. It would have saved me much swearing about the yellow dog hair I battled on every black skirt, blouse, and sweater while packing.

Another funeral gaff we had was at the gravesite. We wacky Californians brought flowers to lay on the coffin, while apparently it's a tradition for the children to pull off a rose from the arrangement to save and dry. Well, now translate this to a gajillion million grandchildren deciding to do the same and the flowers we put on the coffin were picked up from cousins to take away.

Again, got to have a sense a humor with this. I am beginning to think it might be good to put out a funeral etiquette book with relation to religions and regional differences because I felt a bit clue-lessssss. Yet, Grandma had a good sense of humor; I can still hear her signature chuckle in my head, so I'm sure she was laughing with us.

To help a sister financially, we ended up sharing a hotel room with 3 sisters, 2 infants, a toddler, and a brother-in-law without incident. Crazy, but it worked. I also saw a sister and her family from Montana and my brother and his fiancee. There's nothing like a funeral to bring a family together.

In the end, it was a very satisfying trip. So imagine my surprise when a month later in Washington, it finally hit me. Sobbing into CG's shoulder, I realized that my grandmother was my last grandparent.

I am grandparent-less.

What set me off? This Grandma, a widow on a small policeman's pension, didn't visit often and couldn't offer much in the form of gifts. However, she made every grandchild feel special with her birthday cards.

Without fail, she sent each and every child, grandchild, great-grandchild, and great-great grandchild a handwritten card with a carefully chosen, handwritten verse and several page letter with a $2 bill tucked inside. She sent out over 300 of these each year. Imagine the time and love spent writing these cards. She spent hours each week on this task.

The $2 bills, while small, were a huge dent in her meager income and yet they came.

My childhood birthday memories always include a card and $2 bill from Grandma as do my children's memories. Eldest received his last card this last August. So back to what set me off? Eldest finally got his Guitar Hero. I purchased it and when he brought me his cash to pay me back, he had two $2 bills.

I knew they were from Grandma. She was still here. I knew they were the last he would receive. I told him to keep them, turned around, and started to bawl. I soaked CG's shirt.

I recall seeing at the funeral a framed $2 bill, but It's hit me now.

No more $2 dollar bills.

I love you Grandma.

Monday, January 28, 2008


CG has a family history of high blood pressure, heart issues, and sky-high cholesterol. The cholesterol has been a condition he has battled with for a while.

It came up astronomical after routine blood work recently when we raised his life insurance policy. The HDL to LDL was so whack that they couldn't even measure the triglycerides. Yep, people, with 2 heart conditions, high cholesterol, and as the sole source to pay the mortgage and five mouths, now you know why we were raising the life insurance.

Although if you talk to CG, he's sure it's a plot to off him. Silly man! He needn't worry as long as he's faithful, obedient, continues to cook, wash the dishes, and do the laundry... Really, I jest.

But, if I did want to off him, it would only take a little shake of his biggest weakness. Something irrestible? Supple. Salty. Did you think we were talking of killing by marital bed?? Silly you, you obviously haven't read this post.

No, really, CG biggest vice is cheese and, especially, bacon. There is an unhinged hysteria even when he says the word. Bacon! Said reverently. Bacon! With seductive lilt of the tongue. Oh, baby, bacon....

So, he's been put on the bacon and cheese wagon. I made a smoky black bean soup the other day. He said it was delicious, but it would be even better with marscapone. We had baked potatoes and somewhat homemade chipotle chili. He said both were great, but they would be better with cheese...and BACON! No! No bacon for you, CG!

So, today I went searching for a smell in my refrigerator. After some searching, I found some past their prime shrimp that I tossed. I found a chunk of steak that was too much for one night, but was soon forgotten . Chucked! Gone!

But, ho there, what was this at the bottom of the meat drawer? Ah, the contraband know as bacon. Not even expired for one more day. Ohhh....the possibilities!

With the weather outside so frightful, I thought up a delicious, soul-comforting lunch of fettucine tossed with sun dried tomatoes, carmelized onions, garlic, cream, and that lovely, smoky, bacon.

Before I could say bacon-lettuce-tomato, I got a-cooking. It was delicious! Yummy! Scrumptious! Creamy...

Did I mention CG had a bacon problem? Er, well. Maybe I'm an enabler. At least for today...

Honestly, I think CG is what one calls a classic Baconaritian. I think more than just CG has this problem. I found this article on MSN.COM today:

Bacon is hot. In recent weeks, we've detected buzz on several bacon-related searches. Case in point: bacon cocktails, cookies and popcorn. And do you know what a bacontarian is? (Answer.)We want bacon-flavored anything: mints, toothpicks, chocolate and salt. For those who prefer bacon wrap: costumes, bandages and this — for that very special gift. The origin of this bacon expression is uncertain, but it could refer to a sign of wealth in the 1500s.This phrase is believed to have originated in the 1600s, meaning to safeguard something precious.And this term, literally a container where pig meat is stored, is a political metaphor for government appropriations spending.Want more bacon trivia? Take our A-list Files quiz."

Now this a tad bit weird, even for CG, I think....<p>

Whoa piggy! And I thought CG had a problem. When you are a believer in "baconism," you've taken it much too far. I think...

Ohh, I just found a morsel of smoky, salty goodness in my teeth. Mmmmmmmm.

Many thanks for the salivation-inpsiring flickr pics from: rockdoggydog, sling@flickr, and adampsyche.

It's his birthday and he can have it if he I wants it!!

I've had so many ideas of posts lately, but never seem to find the time. Then, like a flash, I can't remember anything. Luckily, hanging out at CG's Flikr page suddenly brought one back.

Remember how it was Li'l Man's birthday a short while ago? Remember we were stalling for CG to get back from a business trip. Hold that thought.

Now, remember how I was lamenting about high-profile, excessive spending for kids? Yes?

Well, those two conditions came to a collision course, white-head smack down with a messy squirt. What I am trying to tell you people is that I am full of cow-dookie. Yep, call me a hypocrite.

You see, I felt guilty for making Li'l Man wait. So, I bought a "couple" more presents. I was planning on buying him a new basic scooter since the brake on his old one magically got run over. I ended up with the top of the line, skateboard deck one that cost $30 more.

Then, I wanted him to have an iHome alarm for his IPOD with remote because the other kids have one and what six year old doesn't need such an apparatus to wake him for kindergarten, eh?

Then, I bought three semi-automatic Nerf guns so he could combat his older brother who out-gunned him when he bought the sniper rifle with detachable pistol. Okay, the extra guns were meant for PB and CG to help him.

Then, we added a Nerf basketball hoop because he's started playing basketball, so..um...he needs the practice...yeah.

So here was his stack of loot:

The look on his face was priceless when he came in. He loved it. But! Was it because he liked the robot? Would a smaller robot been just as good? Probably? Would a sword fight with those tubes brought as much joy? Definitely.

After the aftermath of gift-wrap shredding and cardboard sword fights, suddenly Eldest remembered that I had bought another presents months ago for Li'l Man. Ah! Yes, Eldest pulls out the Transformer movie from my super-secret-no-child knows hidey-hole. Hmmmph. Not so secret after all. Suddenly, this movie, was "All Li'l Man had wanted."

I could have stopped at the movie. I am ridiculous. I have a problem. Hide my credit cards, people. Could our 5 digit balance on our credit card be an indicator? Gah!

When guilt hits excessive, flagrant, irresponsible spending, the guilt always wins.

Breaking News: Buzz Word Alert!

I take your from our regular programming to send you equal opportunity mirth from both sides of the aisle that I found at Butterflyfish. It's amazing the stench of their pandering emits. Anyone else sick of the "Change" card? We all know they are lifetime politicians, so how is it possible to change what they helped build?

Wait to the end; it's fabulous! Promise!

On more serious news, it's snowed again in Seattle and schools are closed--for like maybe 2 inches of snow.

Did I mention schools were never closed for snow in Alaska?? Somehow buses still worked.

At -50 below. On roads they never salted or plowed because what would be the point.

Man! We Washingtonians are wussies. And I'm especially a wussy since having a head cold with three kids at home makes me want to cry.

Blub! Blub! Blub!

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

You Be The Judge

His urgency oozed from every pore.

My Mommy-dar ramped up some notches as I heard his desperate cries.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

I came running to see an intact body, flushed cheeks, and quickly melting snow pooling around his little snow boots.

"Mommy! I need a carrot!"

Ah...snow days. We've been hit with school delays because of the snow here. Those delays for most, translate into half-day kindergarten cancellation for Li'l Man. So, no school for him for two days.

Here's the result:

Sorry for the poor pic. I had only my cell and it melted by the time I went back for my SLR.

And yes people, we suck because there were no carrots to be had. All I had was cranberries and old ones at that. He asked for anything to supplant the carrot. He settled for a chopstick. It seems the carrot wasn't for the nose.

When I saw the snow man, it immediately looked like a devil to me with it's prongs and crimson eyes.

I sent the pic on my cell to family, CG (who's on a trip), Eldest's cell, and PB's cell. They loved it. But Eldest saw a cricket. Li'l Man made a vague reference to a bunny. What'd'y'all think?

By the way, it's Li'l Man birthday today. He got snow and a school cancellation for his birthday--every kid's dream.

It was also a dream for me considering I hadn't made the cupcakes to be delivered for kinder snack and that was all the birthday celebrations planned until CG gets back. I haven't even shopped for gifts, his b-day dinner, or made a cake. Bad Mommy!

Thank you crazy Seattle weather for enabling my procrastination.

Gossip at Starbucks

Okay, so I'm a reality show whore. Love it. So, when I found this blog on Starbucks gossip by hard-core barristas and "regulars" i.e. loyal customers, it was hilarious.

Even with a sister as a store manager at Starbucks, I never had such insight into the "Legendary" culture. The real juicy stuff is in the comments.

Who knew about regular customers trying to pick up on barristas? The stalker customers that look for their favorite barrista's cars in the parking lot? The rudeness of customers which include throwing their unsatisfactory coffee at the poor, unsuspecting barrista? The "partner" outrage of changing menu nomenclature? The hatred of the "skinny" line? The fact that the skinny mocha mix stains their hands/dish towels red and dries baby poop green. That "partners" called customers fatties behind their backs? My favorite line by far was this one:

"Man, why was she with that Grande White Mocha? I could Whip and top him so fast you don't even know!"

"It's not worth it. She has two Kids hot chocolates"

Funny! Starbucks baristas are funnnnnn-y!

The rebelliousness. The manifestos to corporate. The loyalty. The betrayals. This is drama people.

I'm such a fan. Go check it out here: http://starbucksgossip.typepad.com/

Now what I'm not a fan of is the skinny (which now means no-fat, no sugar, no whip cream, no topping, with foam) mocha. Abso-fucking-lutely disgusting. Don't waste your money. Full of chemically nastiness and I'm the first one to admit I love my Diet Coke and Equal in my drip. BUT! This was plain gross. You might as well be main-lining poison.

Want to save calories? Buy a tall instead of venti of the real stuff. Or better yet, get a drip with a shot of espresso and add some sparing half-n-half. Much better and you can actually taste coffee instead of sickening sweetness and milk with a splash of coffee for color.

By the way, this new sugar free mocha apparently includes two food colorings that are banned as carcinogens in other countries. Hmm? Make me fat or give me cancer? Such choices!

Bux minions, what ever happened to plain ol' coffee? What's in your drink?

Blog Notes: Thanks for the flickr pics from Man in a Bowler Hat (Epzibah) and Unhindered By Talent.

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

May Your Blistering Testicles Be Eaten By A Pack of Rabid, Rascally Rabbits With Very Dull Bicuspids

"Mommy, why, when you drive, do we zoom past all the other cars?"

"Err...my foot is really heavy?"

"I think it's because you're always driving us places and are always in the car. You get tired, so you hurry up."

Hmmm....smart kid. He forgot the part about the California driver in me seethes at the ridiculous Washington, can't merge, can't drive in snow, drive slower in the carpool lane metality, BUT I think his explanation was much better than mine. He absorbs more than I realize...

...which is why I need to stop yelling #$%^*&^% Grandpa! Get of the #$%^%$ road before I send my *&^%%^ Expedition up your cherry $%^*& with much hysteria in my voice. Must come up with better, more descriptive and apt, and less vulgar words. Heck, if I do this right, perhaps it might help the kids' future S.A.T. scores.

So people, any creative suggestions that do not include 4 letter words? I am thinking, "A thousand hot needles in your cod piece," or "You miserable, blundering pimple of of an eel" is much more elegant than, "You fuck, fuck, fucker. Dumbass!" Oh course, my hands will continue to flourish in people's rear view mirrors because so many need such edification.

Give me some material people, my kids' future test scores may very well depend on it.

Sunday, January 6, 2008

Sunday Night Music To My Ears

One of the best known music to my ears is the sounds of cracked ice tumbling against the stainless steel cocktail shaker in my husband's hands. Result:

Or better yet, the sound of chop-chop-chopping for tonight's dinner. Well, it's red meat night. You see, I'm anemic and my womanly troubles always make it worse. So CG has made it a tradition (and probably an excuse since the man does love his red meat) to seek out red meat in restaurants or make something suitable medium-rare. Tonight is French Bistro fare that he has planned. Steak au poivre with pomme frites. His chops are turning me on. Result:

Yep, today has been a lazy day of catching up on blogs, eating junk, and lazing about in the clothes I fell asleep in last night.

At first it was depressing today with it's dark clouds and rain. Then it snowed big puffs. Finally, the sun appeared and graced our once dark yard with a glow of melting ice crystals and sparkling rain drops.

It's these little pleasures that help us endure life's storms.

If anyone out there is having troubles, take some time to reflect on what's good. Crackling ice. Kids giggles. Funny comments from a new reader.

Water droplets sparkling on the sun. Strong husband's hand adorned with the simple gold band imprinting your possession.

It can't all be so bad. Hang in there.

Warms A Mother's Heart: No Gnawed off Toes

It's always an eye-opener when a child gains a new skill and gains independence. Last week, I had one of those days. One baby step for my youngest, one huge toward mothering redundancy.

Li'l Man, being a resourceful five year old has decided to make his own lunch. Apparently, I and his father don't feed him soon enough upon return from half-day kindergarten. Something had to be done:

Step 1: Sneak can of beans out of pantry, then open can and send refried, molded glory gushing into bowl. Mom hears characteristic plop and comes to check it out. She finds this!

Can you see the madness of newly discovered independence in his overly-widened eyes. I can hear him saying, "mother-schmother." He proceeds to grate a block of cheddar without scraping pudgy kindergarten fingers. This indeed tells me my kindergartner is smarter than your kindergartner. Scientific fact.

Step 2: Without guidance, he puts Saran Wrap on beans (Warms a mother's heart--why can't all men think of Saran Wrap when nuking?!) He did ask what number, but I have no doubt he would have figured this out on his own. Do note that he also didn't make that ghastly spoon in the microwave mistake that most men discover when they start to cook.

Is it me or am I detecting a devilish grin and a slight, "Parents! Gah! who needs 'em?"

Step 3: This is science people! This five year old discovers for the first time the laws of physics. Thermal expansion, pressure, whatever, make the Saran Wrap implode and create a new mold of beans. Oh, the power!

Can you hear the kindergartners of the world all saying, "Oooooo!" Yep, impressive.

Step 4: Awash in the glory of it all, Li'l Man declares,"Spoon! Who needs a spoon." Ah, here was the time for little motherly intervention.

Those beans were hot....and tasty...Mommy needed to "taste" them to make sure they were alright.

Whew! Crisis averted. I am still needed. At least for now. Or until he realizes that Mommy doesn't need to eat half the bowl to "test" them.

This mother sleeps soundly with the new found knowledge that he won't resort to chewing off his own toes if left to his own devices. First stop refried beans, next stop college, eh?

Saturday, January 5, 2008


My stupid. !@#$%^ car got broken into yesterday after I car-pooled three adults and five children to the Seattle Pacific Science Museum. Long story includes suspicious good Samaritan, no damage, and generally no loss of contents. We hope...

This would be the second time my car has been broken into in 2 1/2 years. What the heck Batman? That's more than the previous 20 years previous of driving. What is it about Seattle area thieves and my Expedition? Each time it was after I meticulously cleaned my car. They always go for the stupid, lame cell phone chargers too. Weird!

The last break-in, the mall security cop said crooks don't bother breaking in to dirty cars and I should keep fast food trash strewn about. Didn't have much of that, but I had cleaned my car of my son's dirty boxers. I found another pair of underwear of my daughter's under the seat. (Can you tell we are swimmers? The kids change in the car at red lights.) There was some beef jerky from who knows when in the back seat seat belt well. Lots of empty Gatorade bottles. You know the deal.

See, that's where I went wrong. I should have hung that nasty junk on my rear view mirror to prevent the break-in. I'm sure it would have gone over well with the playgroup set. I mentioned to one Mom that my car had looked like a starving stripper mobile. Crappola! That's what I get for cleaning up for once.

Oh well, they got nothing of value, so ha ha, you Seattle crime bastards suck big tiny Danny Bonaduce ginger shlong.

(Warning: Link to very yucky picture that only the bad guys should look at for punishment. All you nice Mommies and Daddies: please don't look. This is not for the faint hearted. You will never think fondly of the Partridge family again.)

You looked didn't you? Gross, huh?! Yep, the sparse carpet matched the curtains. Bleck!
Update: Sorry peeps. I took the DB link off because CG says that's vile and he's right. Even meanies that break into my car shouldn't be subjected to that.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

All Joking Aside

I found this video below at Moderately Modern Mommy. All joking from the last post aside. All cheeseburgers, National Anthems, and even Oprah aside.

This below is what this election should be about. No matter where you stand on this particular war, the sacrifices being asked of our troops over and over are a disgrace.

MMM's husband has deployed three times in this war alone. We have friends and classmates deployed 2-3 on average as well. Why?

The reduction in forces during the Clinton years.

No matter where you stand, do you think it's right that we have so weakened our military forces that we ask them to come into harms way not once, not twice, but three times or more during a few years? Would you ask your child to do that? What if it were your husband?

This is what happens when you elect a Clinton.

Think about the troops when you get that ballot. If we had another World War II today, would we be able to win?

The stability of this nation rests upon a strong National Defense, not prescription drugs.

God bless the troops and their families.

What Did you Say?! C&cks#cker!

I found this video on I am Bossy.

Maybe it's the Republican in me, but I kept hearing something other than "caucusing " I swear up and down they were saying c%ck-s*cking.

That's not a word I ever use, so me thinks it was just the subliminal vibe that Hillary oozes.

While it's a lame reach out to a bunch of white Iowans, I do have to give props to both her and Bill. Self-deprecation is a good thing and watching Bill snarf burgers and Hillary shriek the national anthem is pretty good fun.

Still not going to vote for her unqualified, ride off her husband's coattails and fame tush. Ever. Never. Cut my pinkies off with garden shears. Force me to eat raw chicken. I still won't.

Sunshine in My Soul

It's raining in the Northwest, but the sun is shining in my soul.

He was appalled I drank day old coffee.

I came back from dropping the kids at school, and there was a hot pot waiting for me. Here I stand with a steaming cuppa Joe on my back patio.

The steam whispers away and fat drops of rain splash into my brew.

That, my friends, is love.

He even searched the local Starbucks and found one of the last coffee Christmas ornaments for me yesterday since I was bummed that I forgot to buy one before the holidays.

Love and coffee. It doesn't get better than that!

Kiss-ez for the Mrs.ez

The kids seem to be back into the swing of school, but I am having some problems adjusting to a reasonable bedtime.

Errr. No that's wrong, so I better correct it before CG calls me on that. I have never gone to bed at a reasonable time, but usually I manage to get up at a responsible hour when the kids are in school --sometime between 6:30-7:30.

These last two days however have been a real struggle. Last night, I was in bed by 10 PM, but dreaming about balmy beach vacations and bidding on Priceline in bed until 1:30 AM (No luck with the cheap, beach vacation).

So, today was CG's first day, after a long break, taking Eldest to morning swim practice. They left at 5:20 AM. Hence there was no one to wake me when the alarm didn't work. Ok, it worked. I just didn't wake up. I woke up at 7:20, but the alarm was set for 6:30 AM. Ooops. That's a verrrrrra long time for the alarm to go off.

The kids alarms had also being shrieking for the past hour with no luck. A Scooby Doo van-radio honked obnoxiously from down the hall and a IPOD clock radio moaned from beyond. Two still bodies continued their slumber in the bottom bunk of Li'l Man's five year old den. I'm sure our neighbors love us.

So I shook the kids awake unsteadily, yanking their covers up over my head with a flourish. Then I stumbled down the stairs and finding no fresh coffee (but CG always makes me fresh coffee--unless he leaves at 5:30! whimper!), I nuked some day old nasty brew. I was in too much of a haze to clean the pot. The thought of the grinder going off was torture.

Okay, another confession, I may have had a glass...or two...really, three of wine last night. You know when you get so tipsy, you reach the easy, drunk, harlot stage? Then you go beyond that seductive slut phase, only to dash dear husbands hopes of getting lucky? You know... so tipsy you flop on bed like an relaxed octopus, arms drooping everywhere, trying not to drool on your laptop, waving arms erratically, slurring loudly oblivious to sleeping husband who needs to wake up at 4:45 AM, and tapping keys with jellified fingers between states of unconsciousness? Yep, if you've seen a woman like that-yep, that was me.

Back to today's brutal morning truth, Li'l Man was munching cereal while I sipped sludge when CG came home. He was all playful, tickling ears with dried spaghetti and talking about ninjas.

I told him it was too early for me to process his weirdness.

He then gave me "kissus for the missus." That came through loud and clear. There's nothing like a lovely, but silly husband to snap you out of your haze and make you realize how lucky you are.

So I wish for kissus for all you Missus (and Misters, but that doesn't rhyme) out there!

Happy Two Days After Christmas!

PS Li'l Man has decided to take three steps forward, two steps back while getting ready this morning. He's also walking backward around the island. Hmmm. Weirdness runs in the family. It's going to be a long morning. (sigh)

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Best Christmas Ever?!

What do you think is going on this eleven year old cranium below? This was taken two weeks ago as he pondered what Santa would bring him.

After the blessed, gift-wrap tearing extravaganza, he ended up with:

  1. A Razr cell phone he's wanted for ages (to be honest it was CG's recycled, newly blinged version because CG got a Black Jack from work),

  2. A lower-end digital camera (practical because he taking a media class next quarter),

  3. A flat screen monitor for his computer (practical because he taking computer tech this quarter and only because we got a banging deal at the the day after Thanksgiving early morning sale at Staples.)

  4. A remote control hover craft,

  5. Too many video games to count.

AND this was just from us and Santa. It doesn't include grandparents. Santa even brought him a favorite sugar cereal his Mom (that would be me) refuses to purchase the rest of the year. The kid, yep, he was spoiled.

He declared it was the best Christmas ever. He thanked and thanked us for his loot. He warmed my heart. I love being able to give to my kids. I love having my heart warmed with their gratitude. He seemed so satisfied...

You know where I am going with this, don't you?

He told me today he was working on his list for his birthday--which is eight months away. He hasn't even ripped the cellophane from the Wii games and he tells me he wants Guitar Hero III which is a minimum $100 game to go with his over-priced Wii. He begged for a North Face jacket when we were in REI today--not because he doesn't have 3-4 other jackets--but because they aren't North Face.

This blatant consumerism is killing me. We chose to live in an affluent community for the schools, but we are NOT affluent. We leveraged our California real estate to get to the second richest zip code in the state of Washington (behind Bill Gates' zip), so we could have a nice house and safe community.

It was worth it--our town was listed as one of the top 10 the cities to live in. Crime is low. Schools are some of the best in the state. However, the pressure is a bit insane. If you think my kids are spoiled, we don't scratch the surface of my son's peers. The year we moved here, a kid was charged with having his own BMW stolen and burned, so he could get a Bentley?! Really? Really? Really?!

A couple of girlfriends regaled me last night at the lengths they went to to get lululemon jackets for their teenage daughters. I'd never even heard of lululemon, but apparently, you don't exist in the teenage social circles here without one. It's exorbitant yoga wear for kids that don't do yoga. We are talking $100 hoodies. HOODIES?! ONE Hundred dollars? And they were so hard to get at this price, they resorted to calling the factory direct and purchasing via Canada, so the jackets would get here before the holidays.

This is crazy! Its almost as bad as a couple years when parents were told by a student-led orientation board for incoming sixth graders at the local middle school that boys should only wear boxers and get thee to Abercrombie & Fitch. This ridiculousness starts so young. Even my eight year old has been asking for a North Face for years. She's got a six year old friend that wears her little Abercrombie t-shirt with pride. It's sickening when I compare it to my own modest K-Mart and Goodwill upbringing or all the many children in this world who go without basics.

Maybe I'm feeling a bit sensitive even for myself. I don't know a mom at our school who doesn't have at least one North Face vest. I even bought a North Face vest, but still frequent Ross, T.J. Maxx, Old Navy, and Target. I'm surrounded by designer clothes and $1000 handbags, but I resist. Even if we had the money, I wouldn't want to spend it this way. But, we don't. We are floating in credit card bills, mortgage payments, swim team fees, and MBA tuition for CG.

So, Li'l Man got a IPOD this xmas, but again, it was recycled and not the Nano he wanted. At five, he still loved it. And yet, my five year old still asks when he'll get a cell phone.

Really? Really? Help me!

I ended up telling my Eldest that he would be buying his own Guitar Hero. Turns out he's stockpiled $70 in gift certificates and every last dime he had which amounted to $40 in cash from past birthdays, tooth fairies, etc. So I marched him down to Target to get that damn Guitar Hero.

Guess what? They were all out. As was Costco, Best Buy, Wal-Mart, Circuit City, Toys-R-Us...I finally get my son to spend his own money and there aren't any left? Figures! All the local parents scooped them up for their brats darlings for Christmas. I don't know a teenager around here with a real job. None of them do anything more strenuous than babysit occasionally. I want my kids to feel that sense of accomplishment for earning their own toys or clothes like I did, but it's going to be a long, uphill road in this community.

By the way, do you know how Abercrombie & Fitch refers to itself online: "The highest quality, casual, All-American lifestyle clothing for aspirational men and women." Aspirational? My butt! All these kids wearing those Abercrombie clothes are aspiring to is getting into Mommy and Daddy's wallet. My kids will wear Ambercrombie when they truly aspire by paying for that over-priced acoutrement themselves--with a J-O-B! You know the thing you do by steaming lattes, flipping burgers, or (gasp) working in an Abercrombie & Fitch store.

Ah! The reason for the season....

Blog Notes: Thanks for the Creative Commons Flickr pics from Tiger Mask and emself.

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