United States of Motherhood: February 2011

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Marriage: In Which I Fire My Husband

Yep, my husband is fired. When he gets home from his third business trip in three weeks, I am going to lay into him.

He is so fired.

What you don't fire your family members? That's how we roll in the Scouty household.

I am late picking up the kids from swim practice?

I am fired. Yes, the first words uttered from their lips. I hang my head in shame.

They leave their breakfast dishes on the kitchen table rather than in their cozy dishwasher home? They are fired.

But this week? It will be CG hanging his head in shame. He's coming home unexpectedly early, with, I am sure, the expectation of welcoming arms and cheery kisses.

Instead, he will be in the dog house. Let me refer you to the evidence:

And then there were three...

Yes, those are Paula Dean's luscious red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting and sprinkles. Yes, made with 1-1/2 cups oil, 1 pound cream cheese, 1-1/2 cups sugar, and 2 sticks of butter. Yes, they are heart attack on a plate if the grease at the bottom of the cup is any indication...and YES, there are three left.

When CG left on Tuesday, there were NINETEEN!! He made these damned cupcakes, loaded them in the empty fridge front and center, and then LEFT ME ALONE WITH THEM.

Yes, how dare he make me cupcakes and give me chocolate for Valentine's DAY. I have double the work-load and driving with the kids with him gone. No time to shop. Stressed. Emotional eating anyone??

I go to look for a snack and **BAM** those freaking cupcakes derail my best resolutions.

Talk about sabotage! Grrr.... Next time he better write me letters like President Bush writes to his wife. Yes, Bush because I'd rather be sobbing over letters decades from now than caring about cupcakes in my fatty liver and muffin top:


Don't feel too bad for him...I always rehire him in the morning.

Maybe I'll wait this time until I walk off the 50 bajillionity calories I stuffed in my mouth in the form of cuppy-cakes. Yep, at my treadmill desk as I type. Yep, I figure only 3 miles walked to burn off each cup-y-cake.

Gah!! I figure I'll be done in say 24 hours of walking.


I love you honey bunny, but CG you are so fired.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Motherhood Has Made Me a Cheap Date

Ahhh, Valentine's Day. It used to be such a production early in my marriage.

Red roses always. Reservations for an amazing destination dinner. A romantic gift. Definitely uncomfortable lingerie. Now?

Now it means impromptu pizza and a drive in squeezed between our three kids' swim practices.

You'll laugh. Our drive in was the back corner of a very dark parking lot at the pool.

The movie was a delicious flick with George Clooney from Red Box watched on our car DVD player in the back seat.

Throw in a bottle of Cab with a twist top, hot steaming pizza and a box of Fran's Gray Salted Dark Chocolate Caramels.

Mmmmmm.

Add pouring Seattle rain and steaming windows--so romantic and cozy.


Seriously. Best. Date. Ever.


We sat there doing the movie, holding hands, and finishing each other's sentences. He would repeat lines with heavy accents because my hearing, well um, it's not so good. I would pass the wine that we chugged from the bottle.

It was naughty. It was fun. It was cheap. And really?

I am okay with that.

After almost 15 years of marriage, my husband is my best friend, my confidant, and my lover. I don't need roses and cards. I've actually banned him from buying them since most often they seem such a waste.

The best gift? Holding hands in comfortable silence, making the same comment at the same time in a movie, and being deliciously alone while we wait for our three beautiful children to come back.

That's love. Unpretentious. No expectations. Nothing fancy. Ever burning.
Always there.

I love you, CG! Thanks for the cheap date.


Steamy picture by
manual_focus because my iPhone doesn't take the greatest pics in the dark.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Motherhood: Yay...Valentine's Day. Not!


Okay, if you were in my cul de sac today while I took pics of my kid in my polka-dotted pajamas?

Ignore eye contact next time. I will never mention it if you don't.

If you were at our elementary school drop off and say you noticed my bed head and polka-dotted pajama-ed arse was driving through?

For the love of God, never, ever mention it to me.

My friends, I am sooo slipping. Three days of swim meets this week-end and I am on my fourth of four week-ends straight of swimming meets and I have lost it. Yep, the Martha Stewart of Valentine's Day started ours last night at 8 PM after a mad rush to the craft store after all-day at a meet.


My night ended at midnight.


I baked while kids worked on posters, speeches, and studying for tests that were put off for sports. Luckily, my elusive husband makes appearances on week-ends. He's been gone on week long trips for weeks.

Today, my morning started by applying glitter hearts with pink hair spray into daughter's hair and sparkly face paint.



Didn't you know? It's a requirement of being a senator in middle school leadership to dress up for every spirit day and every holiday. Yes, they are graded on this. Seriously. Baby girl got a B for veteran's day--not enough red, white, and blue. Halloween was a paltry A-. You laugh? So do I....and cry a little too.

So I furiously primped, prodded, and was sparkling up my baby girl at 6 AM because we were damn sure going to be getting an A this time.



I then saw my 9th grader's hair, disintegrating and bleached gray from being marinated in chlorine 7 days a week and insisted I would style it since I was in a primping-mood. He went to school with hair that made me only cringe a itsy bit, instead of the usual cover my face mortification.


At 7 AM, we were putting finishing touches on our cookie lollipops and making our traditional personalized cards. My daughter wondered aloud if her cookie lollipops for her teachers would garner her some extra credit? Seriously, is brown nosing institutionalized at this school?
Don't laugh!

She got extra credit and some citizenship award for her birthday!

At 8 AM, I was listening to Li'l Man's speech one last time, signing off on his homework packets, attaching more valentines to 22 cookie lollipops, and.....

Oh yes, taking picture of said kid on front door step in said pajamas.

Yes, I am making memories for my kids, but I wonder if this is worth it to be driving to school looking like a harried homeless person? I'll get back to you on that...

Why? I haven't exercised in four days. I am falling back into my horrible pattern. I have been "assigned" to make six platters of rice crispy treats for daughter to make an edible 2 foot tall 18"x18" fondant covered pyramid for her Honors Humanities class.

Yes, it must be historically accurate and structurally an identical miniature.

Then off to a Valentine's party for Li'l Man. Followed by making more cookie lollipops for Eldest's crush. Nice! Who knows what CG and I will do for Valentine's tonight. It needs to fit between swim practices. We both agreed no gifts. I know boo, right? Well, the gift of maxed credit cards enough, thank you very much.

Next week is high school states for son. Yay! He qualified as a freshman at a 4A school. Proud? Yes! However, BOO for another week-end of swimming in a hot building and living out of my car.

Double boo for his slipping grades which necessitated me commandeering his phone, XBOX, computer, and yes, his Facebook account last week. I was doubly evil by changing that Facebook account to my email, changing the password, and adding the status update:
"FYI: {Eldest} just lost his facebook for a month for being unable to follow simple directions and unable to tell the truth. Not so smart, my boy."
Ahh...the mockery and humiliation he is receiving as we speak. Yes, call me evil. Girls are texting and emailing me to ask when he gets back his phone and Facebook. Friends are leaving comment after comment. Never knew the boy was so popular. Still? My bad cop was lacking since my even badder cop sidekick husband was on a business trip. I soooo needed back up last week.

It took taking away swim practice last week before the son seemed to get the message that school trumps his social life and swimming any and every day.



My friends, do you remember when you had infants and toddlers and you thought it would get easier with age? Sorry to burst that effing bubble, but it DOESN'T. GET. EASIER.

They just get bigger, busier, and have more attitude. They make just as much mess and eat ten times as much. They whine, they sass, they talk back, and they make you pull out your hair with their choices and their grades.

You worry for their future and there's this ticking deadline for when they are off to college and the big, bad world.

Eldest will be gone in three years, 5 months, and a matter of days depending on which college. Ack! Will he be ready? Will I be ready?


In the end? Will I end up looking like that crazy mom, with hair standing on end, in polka-dotted pajamas in public? Oh. wait. I already am. I need to be committed.


My friends, will your kids and mine remember a crazy looking mom shrieking to them about their grades? Will they remember their over-the-top Valentines that get eaten and discarded within minutes? Do they even appreciate this stuff? How do you want to be remembered?

Slipper image via By evilsciencechick / Flickr

Related Posts Widget for Blogs by LinkWithin