Liar, Liar Pants on Fire

Back in the day when I used to watch Oprah (you know, before she got all sanctimonious about everything) there was this one show she did about the reality of motherhood. Well actually, it was a show that was responding to the backlash of the show on the reality of motherhood. Oprah and her crew had made a lot of American mommies angry because on the original airdate, she managed to spin it to make it look like most moms don't like their jobs. Imagine that.

For the entire show the discussion centered around the topic of whether someone could be a good mom and not like the crappy "extras" that come with motherhood. Like.... the 50 million loads of laundry, the potty accidents, the sleepless nights, refereeing sibling squabbles, etc., etc.

Now you (all 8 of you, my wonderful readers- mwah!) all know what my stance is on this kind of stuff. I do not call myself "MeanieMom" for naught. I don't apologize for my cranky behavior when it comes to the dirty work. But there was this one mom on that show that I think of often. She refused to budge from her stance that there had never been a minute of motherhood that she found herself hating. Every single second, she said, was a joy for her.

So, since viewing that particular episode I have found myself scrubbing poop out of the carpet at 6:45 a.m.(pre-coffee) and thinking of her. I'd think "I wonder if that freak on Oprah ever had to do this and if she did, what kind of sick joy did she derive from it?"

I also thought of her on the day that Leo the tire guy swindled me into thinking that he'd have me and my 3 small children in and out of his tire station in 20 minutes tops.

And I thought of her last night at the dinner table when I blew up at Mr. C because the kids weren't eating their dinner. It went like this:

Me: J, Princess G, EAT YOUR DINNER! J, use your fork. You're getting food all over the table and the floor. Princess G, stop taking pretend bites. You get 2 minutes to finish and then I'm taking your plate away and THAT'S ALL TILL BREAKFAST. MR. C-don't you dare roll your eyes and get angry at me. You're not the one cleaning up the kitchen and dealing with this 3 times a day. I'm trying to teach our children to be civilized and not eat like monkeys!

In that moment I bet Mr. C would have loved to be married to a woman who loves every single second of motherhood. That woman probably never yells at her children or her husband. But I don't know how to do that. I mean, I don't know how to do that without the assistance of valium or alcohol. Frankly, I don't think that woman knew how to do that either. I think that lady was a big, fat liar. And on national television, too! Shame on her!

I do know this though: I am a good mom. I'm a good mom because I'm authentic. I'm real. I don't pretend with my feelings. My kids know when I'm angry and they know when I'm annoyed, but they also know that I love them and that I'm proud of them every day. And yep, I make a lot of mistakes. A lot. Especially with my stepson. But I try to apologize for them, because I want all the kids to learn that their actions affect others. I'm pretty sure I'm making good progress with that. Except with Mr. C, who I think thinks that I want him to think that I'm perfect. Which I kind of do. But that's another blog. Or maybe another episode of Oprah.

You all have a good day!

Giving Thanks

I had plans all day to sit down and write a short blog about all the things I have to be thankful for. Given the last hour that I've had however, this is going to be very difficult because it's hard to write nice things about people who you feel are deliberately trying to drive you nuts. Without giving you all the boring details, I'l just say that this last hour entailed 3 cranky children, 2 pee accidents, and one almost-burnt dinner on the stovetop.

However, I am a mother and we all know that us moms forge ahead, forgiving their loved ones (and themselves) for those moments of insanity so we can focus on the big picture- our families. So, throughout the day when I'm steaming dried bananas off the white ceramic tile, or arguing with the preschooler over going to the bathroom vs.holding it, or listening patiently to the world's longest monologue on girl playground drama given by the 5 year old, I try to remember that I'm thankful for the opportunity to be present for it all. I get to be home with my kids to experience their world with them for their first 5 years or so before they fly off to spend their time with school, friends, and extra curricular activities. For this short, short time, I'm the center of their world. And as exhausting as that may be, everyday I am thankful for it.

So a Happy Thanksgiving to all who may be reading this. I hope you have as much in your life to be thankful for as I do!
Good night!

Hmmm and Ha

Well, it's been a whole week since I posted anything and that's assuming that one would consider last Monday's post a "real" post. It's not that it hasn't been on my mind, it's just that while things have been busy, they've also been mundane. However, I find myself missing my little blog. So here I sit, hmm'ing and ha'ing and racking my empty nog for anything to write that might be remotely interesting.

Hmmm.

Here's something: I've got a Mom's Night Out tonight. We're going to Cheesecake Factory for dinner and then- AND THEN AND THEN AND THEEEEEEENNNNN!- to see New Moon after that. I am so insanely excited about this that I should be embarrassed. But I'm not and you know why? Because those ladies that go into Hot Topic and come out with their "Team Jacob" and "Team Edward" shirts, buttons, and lifesize poster cutouts make it all okay for me to be "normal" with just my movie ticket and my little box of Team Jacob Conversation Hearts candy.
That's what I'm telling myself anyway.

Other than that, not much else is going on. I'm still bootless. I'm hoping to fix that before tonight (cuz I'd like to feel and look my best while hanging with my werewolf. What? Is there something so wrong about that?). I'm going shopping this afternoon under the guise of getting Baby Roo some baby boots to go with the supercute sweater dress that I found for her to wear this Thanksgiving. And I figure if mommy scores some cute boots too, well, then what's the harm? I'm very carefully NOT thinking about last week's sermon at church that I wrote about here.

Really, that's all. We've got a busy week with 2 school Thanksgiving Feasts that are happening simultaneously. Somehow I've got to find a way to be at the preschool to record J's un-pc performance of "10 Little Indians" AND at the Kindergarten to witness Princess G and her classmates chow on pumpkin pie in their construction paper Pilgrim costumes. I'll figure it out somehow.

And one last thing- this a.m. I walked in on Mr. C posing with Baby Roo in front of the mirror. I notice that he does this a lot, so I asked him "What is it you're doing when you do that?" And he answered "I'm showing her that this is us." And for saying that, my heart loved him just a little bit more.
Too bad he doesn't come with those werewolf abs.
Just kidding.

Kind of.

You all have a nice day.

Not Me

If you're reading this and haven't heard of Mckmama, then you should go read her blog. She's great. One of my favorite things about her posts are her "Not Me! Mondays". The moment this thing below happened, I knew it was destined to be posted as a "Not Me Monday" moment:

This is what I did not do upon getting out of the shower. I absolutely did not reach into my bathroom drawer and pull out a sample bottle of what I thought was body lotion and rub it all over myself, only to find out that it was, in fact, hair conditioner. I did not decide to just go with it AND I most certainly did not wear slightly greasy jeans all day because of this.

No way.

Not me.

Boots and Damnation

Does it ever happen to you that you're going along your merry way in life and all of a sudden you find yourself inundated with signs that pertain to a certain issue? Like maybe you're reading a book about say, endangered Pandas (just go with me on this- it's late and I can't think of a better example). All of a sudden it's like the Discovery Channel has tuned into your frequency and they're showing 2 hour documentaries on Endangered Pandas. The next day you get coupon mailers from Panda Express, and then maybe your kid brings home last week's homework with a sticker of a Panda on it, declaring "You Did It!". You're not sure what exactly you did, but you're almost positive that the Universe is talking to you through motivational stickers from your child's teacher.

That happened to me this last week. But not about Pandas. It was more about shopping. More specifically, it was about me and my mission to find the perfect pair of fall boots.

Boots have been on my mind for several months now. I've just been waiting for the weather to cool down enough for me to put on a pair of jeans, since I'm def past the age where I can make boots and a pair of shorts work. (Though I'm not really sure if anybody has ever really made that look work, per say).

Anyway, complain tho I do about the extra podunk in my trunk, I do have fairly good enough genes when it comes to build. I'm tall enough and slender-ish enough to pull off a good pair of high heeled boots. And I must say, they do make me feel like a sexy young mama.

So I got the all clear from Mr. C to take Sunday afternoon off. Me and Princess G were going to hit up the mall and spend some of my birthday cash. It did cross my mind that I could probably put that birthday dough to better use than to buy a pair of boots. Mr. C and I are trying to live on one income- and a teacher's salary income at that. However, having spent the previous 2 days flipping through my lusty Lucky magazine, it was not hard to justify spending the money on myself. My mind was set. Princess G and I would spend Sunday afternoon at the mall. But first, we'd go to church.

Do you want to guess what the message was that Sunday? Go ahead. Take a guess.

It was this: "The Gotta Haves are Gonna Get You."

Dang it.

Pastor Bob had some really good insights on the topic. Did you know that there are approximately 500 verses in the Bible about Jesus' message of love, but over 2000 verses that advise humanity how to deal with their finances? God takes this money stuff seriously.
I don't think I've squirmed so much in a sermon since I was 5 years old and wearing tights who's crotch only reached to the bottoms of my thighs.

So, as Pastor Bob spoke on greed and charity, debt and selfless living, I struggled internally with the age old question that has plagued womankind for centuries: "Do I want to look good on the outside or be good on the inside?"

I have a feeling that you all know which I chose. It wouldn't be much of a blog if I had decided to be a good girl. Before you get all judgmental though, I should remind you that I had been weakened by two days of poring through the pages of Lucky. Which is like letting a crack addict go on a splurge before checking him into rehab.
Yes, I went shopping
I know it was a sin, but I put it in the sin category of "I'll make it up to you later, Lord." (I know it doesn't really work that way, but I'm really good at disillusioning myself in times of emergency. Especially shopping emergencies.)

So Princess G and I went to the mall. We shopped. We had fun. God did continue to send the Universe to speak to me, however, this time it was in terms of price tags. Every boot I desired was at least $20 over my price limit. So I didn't buy my boots. I'm going to wait until the Veteran's Day sales.
Soooooooo, if you don't hear from me again, it's because God has struck me down.

You all have a good night.

The Truth About Tampons

Pssssssst.
I'm not really writing about tampons. The truth is that I don't want Mr. C to read this particular blog and history has taught me that any mention of feminine products is usually enough to run him off. So bear with me here.
I'm thinking that the real title of this blog should be "Man Logic: Why It's Stupid."
I know, I know. Berating one's spouse behind their back is uncouth behavior, and truly that's not my intention- although I'll admit a tiny, evil, little part of me may enjoy writing the next couple of paragraphs. It's just that we had a little incident here- nothing major- but it's been bugging the heck out of me and there are just some things that a girl needs to get off her back.

So the other afternoon, I was flipping through a cooking magazine when I see this beautiful photograph of a nice, steaming bowl of creamed chicken curry soup. The picture alone was just gorgeous- ribbons of orange carrots curling up and out of the golden broth surrounded by sauteed celery and onions, and a big slab of crusty bread placed just so on the side of the bowl. And I thought to myself "I can do that!" I grabbed a pen and furiously scribbled down the ingredient list, all the while imagining my family raving over this delicious concoction that I was about to whip up for them.

I grabbed the ingredients at the grocery store, came home, and started chopping, sauteeing, stirring, and simmering like a mad woman. This happened to be a night when I would leave to go tutor, so while normally in the napping hours of 2 and 3 o' clock you'll find me celebrating the peace and quiet by reading on the couch or (more likely) blitzing my little heart out on Facebook's Bejeweled, on this afternoon I had to suck it up and sacrifice p & q time to get dinner ready early.
It's a huge sacrifice. HUGE. Most mom's know that naptime is precious and sacred. However, I knew in my heart of hearts that this Creamed Chicken Curry Soup was going to be so good that it would change my family's life FOREVER, so it was a sacrifice I was willing-nay, HAD to make.

Mr. C walked in the door and announces how good it smells. I'm pleased. I give him a kiss and quickly run through a few details from the day before I leave him. I explain that upon my arriving home at 6, we'll eat. He nods his understanding.
"Oh!" I say. "Would you mind doing this one thing? The chicken needs to be diced and put into the soup. I gotta go. Can you do that for me?"
He points at the grilled chicken pieces on the cutting board. "This chicken?" I nod. "In here?" he asks, pointing to the simmering pot of awesomeness that's on the stove.
"Yes. That chicken. In there." I say. "Can you do that?"
"No problem!" he declares and I leave, feeling confident and optimistic about the upcoming supper I have so lovingly prepared for my family.

Fast forward 2 hours. I arrive home. The house smells delish. I greet my family who is happy to see me and work my way over to the stove and oh. mY. GOD!!!!! WHAT HAPPENED? NO NO NO NO NO NO NO! WHAT HAPPENED TO MY MASTERPIECE? IT'S A STICKY GLOB OF GLUE STUCK TO THE BOTTOM OF THE PAN!!!
"WHAT HAPPENED?????" I scream.
"What? What's wrong?" he's peering into the pan with a confused expression on his face.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT HAPPENED? LOOK AT MY SOUP! IT'S A GLOP! Did you put the lid back on after you put the chicken in?" I accuse.
"What? No, you didn't tell me to!"
" I DIDN'T TELL YOU TO???? DID YOU THINK YOU COULD SIMMER SOMETHING ON THE STOVE FOR TWO HOURS AND NOT HAVE A LID ON IT? ALL THE YUMMY GOODNESS IS EVAPORATED! WE HAVE GLOP! GLLOOOOOPPPPPP! KIDS, I HOPE YOU LIKE GLOP, CUZ IT'S WHAT'S WE'RE HAVING FOR DINNER!"

Okay, I tend to get a little dramatic when I'm upset. But really. Mr. C angrily swore up and down that there was no way he could've known to replace the lid after adding the chicken and I angrily swore up and down that it's basic scientific knowledge that heat evaporates liquids unless it's trapped. I almost posed the question on Facebook in the form of a quiz, but decided that that could be taking the argument a little too far.

Anyway, I managed to somewhat save the soup by thinning it out with milk and whisking the hockey sticks out of it. The kids hated it (but let's be honest, they would've hated it anyway. Someday I'll have to face the fact that my children only show excitment for food that contains the word nugget or comes with a prize). Mr. C was angry at me but tried to rise above the argument by complimenting the soup anyway. I wasn't at the point where I could take the high road yet. A gracious eye roll was all I could manage. Dinner sucked.

He had his revenge on me the next day however. The cable guy knocked on our door and announced he was here to switch a 2 line plate from one room to the next. "Where's the modem?" he asked.
"Huh?" was my reply.
"Where's the old service wire?"
"Huh?" I repeated.
"The old plate in the wall? The one you want me to switch? Where would I find that?"
"Oh. Um, I don't know. Let me call my husband."
I called Mr. C at work, thus interrupting his 3rd period class.
"Babe? The Cable Guy? He's asking these questions and I don't know what to tell him..." (There's an exasperated sigh on the other end of the line)
"We went over this last night! I wrote everything out for you on that paper in the office!" He sounds upset for some reason.
"Yeah, I saw that paper. I don't get it. Can't you just talk to him?"....

So I guess the lesson here is that common logic depends on which gender's brain you're looking at it from.
You all have a nice day.

A Year Ago Today

A year ago today, my Baby Roo came into the world. She's the end of our little (big) family, our little caboose. She has spent the past year charming the pants off of us, and that's mostly because we're more than willing to allow ourselves to be charmed. Mr. C and I have taken extra care with this one to enjoy every new phase and stage, knowing it's the last time we're going to be able to enjoy having one so little and precious. Miss Baby Roo has obliged us by growing up slowly, beautifully, and in no rush at all. While her brother and sister were both walking by one, she's taking her time. I like to think that it's because she knows that if she really wants to get somewhere there's almost always someone around to pick her up and carry her there. She's very calm, very laid back, and almost always content to sit back and watch. Her favorite thing in the world is to hang out with her brothers and sister, watch them, and make sure to laugh whenever they laugh.

Now, everytime one of my kids has a birthday I like to take some time and reflect back on the day when they first came into the world. It's one of those sacred things that come with the package when you're gifted with motherhood. However, my mind isn't what it used to be. Heck, I'll be honest... it was never much to start with. Motherhood has taken it's toll however, but luckily- LUCKILY!- God has graced us with the internet. More specifically, he has graced us with Myspace* and old high school friends.
*Disclaimer- I have since grown up and moved to Facebook with the rest of the adult world. While I am not ashamed to say that I do sometimes miss Myspace and the layouts, slideshows, and music players that went with it, I am thankful for my Facebook conversion because without it, I would never know the addiction that is Bejeweled Blitz.

Anyway, my old high school friend Amy B-(we just call each other b, short for biatch cuz we're cool like that. Actually, she really is, but she lets me pretend that I am, which is why I love her)- we have spent countless hours bs'ing to each other on Myspace and Facebook. Our sense of humor hovers right around that of a 7th grade boy's (which is another reason why I love her) and I am almost as addicted to her as I am to Bejeweled Blitz. On the day that I went into labor with Baby Roo, she was my outlet. So it's thanks to her and our love for Foodie talk, that I have a whole recorded history on what I was doing the day that my Roo was born. I'll share it here with you:

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: tacy
Date: Nov 5, 2008 10:06 PM


just change your mood status b. it's not looking like today is the day either.

she said i've only dialated another cm. and that it's not time for hospitals or induction yet. she DID say that the baby is low, low, low. she scraped membranes again and said that she felt the baby's fingers up by her face. cute but OUCH. hurt like hell.

so, i'll take j for a walk and get me some spicy Thai for lunch. and then wait. and wait. and wait.
----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: amy b
Date: Nov 5, 2008 10:37 AM


that is so cute! and creepy all at once!
i mean she was so close to your babies fingers!
can't she reach up and pull her hand out?

and man thai food sounds sooooo good!
have you had chicken larb? sounds gross but i always get that.
and beef or chicken satay with peanut sauce. yum.
----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: tacy
Date: Nov 5, 2008 11:15 PM

I'm checking out our take-out Thai menu wondering what to get. i've never heard of that chicken larb. i'll ask them if they have it when i call.

the doc suggested that if i want to speed things along i should try some castor oil or an enema- but only after contractions have been consistent (which they still aren't). but i'm thinking of doing the castor oil anyway this afternoon. i know 3 mommies who that's worked for. could be disastrous though- especially after some spicy pad thai.
what do u think?
----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: amy b
Date: Nov 5, 2008 11:27 AM

the chicken larb is in the salad section i think. it's diced up chicken very spicy with some mint taste to it. and they serve it with lettuce cups.
you make a kinda lettuce burrito with it. very good.

do you have a history of having "accidents" on the delivery table?
most everybody that delivers thru the VA-JAY does.
but thai food..yes, could be messy.
i say try the castor oil. after mr.c gets home!

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: tacy
Date: Nov 5, 2008 12:04 PM

i got cantonese instead of thai. it was on the way back from the preschool. i've had 3 good whoopers of contractions in the last hour, so maybe castor oil won't even be necessary. we'll see. i called mr.c and put him on alert.

and remember my story about what happened in front of my Antonio Banderas look alike doctor? i don't want to do that again. but today my new doc told me that if she was worried about that kind of stuff she'd be a checker at Ralph's or some other kind of job.
girl doctors are just better, i tell u.
----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: amy b
Date: Nov 5, 2008 1:29 PM

3 whooper of contractions!
i'm not gonna change my mood i tell ya! i can feel it!
this time i can really feel it!!
but then again, didn't i say i liked nov 11th (11/11) for a birthdate?
ONLY KIDDING :)

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: tacy
Date: Nov 5, 2008 2:07 PM

i have had contractions at 1:34, 1:37, 1:41, & 1:54. i am going to the hospital today for sure. i'm just trying to hold out till mr. c gets home- in the meantime i'm cleaning.

my phone is charging b- i'll keep you in the know!

tacy

------------------Original Message------------------
From: amy b
Date: Nov 5, 2008 2:12 PM

i got chills!!!!!! it's gonna happen today!!!!!!!

danis b-day
black man in office
hells bells says she's SORRY

it's a new DAY!
a GREAT day to bring a baby into the world!!!!!!

YAAAAAAAAAY!
love you b & i can't wait to hear from ANYBODY with the good news!

***
Neither one of us knew it at the time, but we were creating a fabulous gift for me and a future Baby Roo because now i remember exactly what I was doing a year ago today.
And a couple hours later there was this:





Happy Birthday Baby Roo! Since the first moment we saw your brand new chubby chipmunk cheeks, we knew we were blessed! We can't wait to see what joys you bring us in year #2!

Older, Wiser, and Wearing a Wig

It's official. I'm 35.
And because birthdays are a time to reflect (and because it's possible that I like to inflict self torture and indulge myself in a good old pity party once in a while), I went digging through old photos. I found this one that you see above. That's taken on a road trip to Colorado that Mr. C and I went on when our relationship was just a little newborn baby. In my mind, it doesn't seem like 8 years have passed, but when I look at that picture, I don't even know who that girl is.

She has no children, no responsibility to anyone but herself. She sleeps in on the weekends. She has no qualms about resting her bare feet on the dash board because she goes to get them pedicured every two weeks. Her tanned arms and legs are fairly toned and she's not thinking about being judged buy any other mommies because the concert T-shirt she's wearing has the words "Jedi-Sex Trick" on the back. Sure, her sunglasses are a little goofy, but overall she's young, she's fit, and she's pretty enough to make her boyfriend want to impress her by driving bare-chested. (Mr. C- you had me at Circle K when you bought the family pack box of Cheez-Its. It was like destiny brought us together. Or the Snack Fairy.)

Anyway, right when I start to feel really wistful and old and wrinkly, I remember. That girl didn't have this:

Or this:>

Or this either:


And none of it would be fun at all if I didn't have this:


So I guess I'm pretty lucky after all.
I do miss those bi-monthly pedis though.

By the way, I was Mrs. Roper. I know it's not that good of a costume if it needs 'splaining, but that's what it was anyway. We had a nice little party and celebrated Baby Roo's 1st Birthday. I'll post those pictures on Thursday, when she really truly becomes an official one year old. In the meantime, there's just two more pics I want to share of me and my sis. I don't know what we're laughing at, but it must have been good.




I don't know. I just love pictures that capture people in a moment of hilarity.
Hope you all had as good of a weekend as I did.
Happy November!