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My husband’s bright idea

28 Mar

My husband just came out of the kitchen and announced his great idea for my next blog. I’m so fired up I can’t even wait until tomorrow – yep people, two posts in one day, watch out. Brace yourself now, it’s riveting: “My Wife Has Too Much Faith in the Dishwasher”.

Can I get a WTF here, please? It’s a dishwasher, an appliance whose sole purpose is to clean the friggin’ dirty dishes, yo! There is no middle ground here, no need for scrubbing the sink full of dishes in preparation for the godforsaken wash cycle. It either works or it doesn’t. And if it doesn’t then it’s time for mama to go shopping.

But according to my husband, the dishwasher’s job is to sanitize. He has forgiven its weakness and lovingly re-conceptualized the very definition of the dishwasher to allow for it’s inefficiency. Sounds like marriage. Not mine, of course. Or parenting. But not mine, obviously.

Normally I have no basis for complaining because I am not the designated dishwasher in the house, I’m the cook. I cook, someone else cleans. I feed you, you keep the house from looking like an episode of Hoarders. Fair deal.

Normally I’d be laughing, not ranting. But I have a fever. I’m dazed and confused.

Which is also why I feel the need to apologize to anyone else in the movie theater last night who heard my husband blurt out the word “nerdgasm” halfway through the Avengers preview. Yes, he was serious. Seriously as excited as any nerd has ever been. And although this is unrelated to the rest of my post, it seems like the appropriate arena to mention it. I say it with love.

And with thanks that I’m not the one doing the dishes.

Stuff that happened today

28 Mar

1) I was the bad mom who sent her sick kid to school. Unknowingly. No, really. Yesterday his fever was pretty much gone, then by 11 this morning he was back to hacking all over his classmates. I picked him up, fed him lunch and cookies then and let him watch cartoons all day. That made me a good mom…in his eyes solely, I assure you.

2) I played “Out, damned spot” with little dude’s sweatshirt. Because he had a nosebleed all over it. For similar (self-induced) nosebleed stories, click here. Okay, truthfully I just got the sweatshirt wet and dropped it into the washing machine. That’s how much I hate laundry. Couldn’t even bring myself to pour some soap into the damned thing and push start. And now I’ll probably avoid it, then forget about it, and kiddo will be chastised as the boy with the bloody stain on his sleeve forever more.

3) I sat in pee. This happens about once a week and I never get used to it. Lift the lid boys, puhleeease.

4) I baked four loaves of banana bread for little brother’s school potluck tomorrow. The entire reason I buy bananas is to let them sit around too long, turn brown, and then make bread out of them. Don’t be too impressed, it’s mac and cheese leftovers for dinner.

5) I apparently inhaled my son’s germs, and suddenly have a headache, sore throat, and 100 degree fever to show for it. Days before spring break. Where I’m supposed to be lounging by a pool for a week. Shoot.

I’m going to lay in bed and watch a romantic comedy now.

(A side note to my husband: I noticed that you looked very handsome today. I also noticed that I desperately need a larger Kitchenaid mixer and another copy of You’ve Got Mail. Thanks.)

She emerges!

27 Mar

I’m back, and whether or not you’re wondering it’s time to learn where the heck I’ve been, and what I plan to do about it. To get through it faster I’m going for list form. There is no reason or logic here. Get used to it, I plan on utilizing more of these tactics from now on.

1) Yes, my last post was January 1st – almost 3 full months ago. In these last 3 months I’ve been busy opening a second business. It’s a ceramics studio and totally kicks ass. I’m exhausted and exhilarated all in the same breath. Check me out on Facebook or visit my KidsArt website to see the proof.

2) I am only writing now because one of my sons is home sick for the 2nd day, and I’m tired of cleaning the house and procrastinating about all the *other* undone schtick around here. This is more fun than being a maid.

3) Other not completely productive things I have done today include avoiding the dishes and laundry room, drinking extravagant amounts of tea, eating snack, researching my next tattoo, birthday shopping, window shopping, scanning but not returning emails, eating snack, reading Coastal Living, browsing Pinterest, and thinking about painting. I also boiled water for my son’s tortellini. File that one under productive.

4) Now for some solutions. To keep from falling into another 3 month lapse I am vowing to learn to type (the proper way), and to not care so much about grammatical errors (a near impossibility for the English major in me, but I’m giving it a shot). I’m enacting a “one proofread per post” policy. Or maybe I’ll just tear right through one of these days WITHOUT a proofread, huh?! Whatcha’ think about that? Okay, no. I’m already sweating. Quick, must proofread to abate fluttering heartbeat.

5) There is one more thing I wasn’t going to say and now I am. On March 5th my dear father in law passed away, and through the incredible outpouring of friendship we’ve made it through so far. We miss him, and this is hard, but we’re getting back to it. Thank-you for all of the flowers, the house smells great and I’m smiling over them every day.

A quick recap. You’ve learned that aside from being busy I also made it through college as an English major without learning to type, I have an irrational fear of the “send” button (think about it, you probably do too), and my husband does the dishes. And the laundry. Happy I got that all off my chest.

Signing off, Boom shakalaka boom boom, people. Talk soon.

To 10: Reasons spam is funny

29 Nov

Okay, so for some reason the spam on this site is OUTTA control lately. Seems my mom blog is a fave amongst hackers and thieves. You can thank the magical WordPress filters for keeping your eyes from bleeding like mine are after reading all SEVENTY-FOUR of the spam comments I’ve gotten in the last eleven days. Oy.

Good news is, they’re freaking hilarious. And I figured keeping all this funny to myself was just plain selfish. I’ve decided that all spammers can be classified into three definitive categories: 1) those who think I am a genius amongst geniuses (why thank-you), 2) those who play World of Warcraft, and 3) those that are totally perverted but funnier than shit. I mixed ’em all up for ya down below. Let’s play ‘can you categorize the spammer’, shall we?

It sort of feels that you are doing a unique trick. Furthermore, the contents are masterwork. You have performed an excellent activity on this matter! –Carpet Cleaner Bedworth

Dear Carpet Cleaner, you are not the first to notice my “unique tricks” and “masterwork”. My husband and the Headmistress of Hogwarts concur.

Why do I bother calling up people when I can just read this! –Elric

My thoughts exactly, Eric. Being a shut in is the noble path.

You Sir/Madam are the enemy of confusion everywhere! –Zyah

I’d just like to direct my husband’s attention here. Zyah is wise and all-knowing!

Articles like this really grease the shafts of knowledge. –McCayde

McCayde, you are very clever but I have a feeling it’s past your bedtime.

The genius store called, they’re running out of you. –Chuckles

Bah! Brilliant, Chuckles, just brilliant!

This info is the cat’s pajamas! –Xannon

The bee’s knees, baby!

This site is like a classroom, except I don’t hate it. Lol. –Emmy

Just glad I’m not your mother.

Absolutely first rate and copper-bottomed, gentlemen! –Geri

I lived in England far too long for this to be funny.

Thank God! Someone with brains speaks! –Kayleen

OMG, that’s what I think every time I hear the voices in my head!

This free sharing of information seems too good to be true. Like communism. –Prue

Next project

Boom shakalaka boom boom, problem solved. –Maralynn

Glad to be of service, Maralynn. And if you don’t mind I think I’ll have to pilfer that quote.

~ And with that, Boom Shakalaka Boom Boom, people. ~

Backfire of the week

10 Feb

So you know how, as a parent, the best of intentions don’t really mean a whole lot? And how just the slightest flick of a butterfly wing can turn a smiling two year old into a bipolar mess? If you don’t then I envy you. And your children should be cloned.

This morning Chinese Acrobats visited my sons’ school. I could launch into a whole tangent about that alone but I’ll stop myself and keep focus. Because wow…really, WOW. Anyway, as I am a “present and conscious mother” (see New Year’s Resolutions), I put off work for a couple of hours to attend the performance with my children.

Mistake number one. Since, as my husband pointed out, who needs to add any more excitement to a day already filled with spinning plates and kung fu? I’d planned on sitting with my kids on the auditorium floor, but decided last minute to take the boys into the bleachers so the three of us could sit together.

Mistake number two. Because not halfway into the show, little brother started kicking his feet against the aluminum stairs, which, truth be told, I didn’t even notice. I’m a mother of two small boys, who therefore wears powerful imaginary earmuffs at all times to keep from going completely nuts.

The dear sweet grandma next to me, however, must have forgotten hers this morning. She politely asked my son to stop, and he ignored her. I asked him to stop, and he whined. I asked him again and he headbutted my chest (Whaaaaaaaat??? Who DOES that?!). I asked him to stop a third time, and told him we’d have to leave if he did it again. The kid responded with another headbutt. So I stood *pretty* calmly, picked him up, and attempted to tromp noiselessly down the bleacher stairs in my riding boots.

Which I see now, after the fact, was surely mistake number three, since as soon as big brother realized that I was aiming to make an exit, he grabbed the hem of my (probably too short for a mom) dress, wanting to come with us. I, however, wanted to run in the other direction from the two crying children in a puddle at my feet creating a major distraction from the tiny Chinese contortionist scooting her way across the stage in boat pose with teacups on her feet. A dangerous scenario, to say the least.

Here is when the real test of character came in…and I failed. As soon as we stepped foot into the hallway I set little bro on the floor and got on the next plane to Bali. I’m writing this from a Virgin Airways Boeing right now.

OK, no, I’m actually at work wishing I were at Coffee Bean. And what I did was set little brother down on the linoleum and try to talk some sense into him. It took about 10 minutes, but by the end, big bro was happily back with his class on the gym mats, and little bro and I had miraculously re-entered the auditorium to join him. Victory, yes?

No. No, no no no no. Because after the show was over and little bro had joined his teacher in line, big bro decided it was his turn to go manic. I crouched down and in the most loving of ways told him I had majorly important adult shit to do, so tough nuggets kid, but you’re on your own. We negotiated an agreement that I’d walk him to his classroom but halfway there I realized he was going to balk. I did what any mother would do, and tried to hand him over to the assistant right then and there and flee the scene. She’d already had one kid crying for his mom in her arms, so I figured what was one more?

Yeah, that would be mistake number four…the final nail in the coffin. As soon as big brother wised up to what was about to happen he reared back in terror, screaming at the top of his lungs. I stood there, frozen in disbelief at my child’s vocal capacity as it echoed through the auditorium, until his teacher pointed out with terror in her eyes that the kid had given himself a nosebleed.

By the time I finally jumped into action he had blood in his mouth, on his hands, and dripping onto the floor, like it was coming straight from his brain. Buckets. Gallons, even. I am happy to report that I didn’t pass out or get even slightly woozy. Just ushered him to the nearest sink, applied pressure, and carried him to his classroom. After a graham cracker and appointment as line leader, big brother headed out to the playground. Almost with a smile on his face.

And I sprinted to the car, successfully holding back the urge to burst into tears or break into dance. Because that’s the thing of it. So often I find myself asking – victory or defeat? The morning sucked, but we all came out of it OK, and even got to see some cool Chinese umbrella tricks in the process. And if there’s a lesson to be gleaned from the experience then, as moms, we tend to shake it off and smile for the sake of the greater good.

Today my lessons were twofold: 1) Remember that even though the outcome was so not as planned, my intentions were still alright, and that’s got to at least count for something. And 2) Next time I get pulled over I’m totally crying myself into a nosebleed. I’ve got a feeling that one will work every time.

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