No more shouting, I promise

I am actually feeling much better. Nobody is more surprised about this than I. Maybe I just needed to have a big old pity party and vent a little.. Maybe it is all of your wonderful, supportive comments, phone calls and emails. Maybe it's the vodka. Just kidding. It's definitely the vodka. Hee hee. It's probably that things are coming to a close with the terrible, awful situation that we have encountered. I wish that I could be more forthcoming about it, but I can't for many reasons.


Anyway, yesterday I started to feel the fog lifting and I am beginning to climb back out of the pit. Even with SD gone for a couple of days. It's weird. But I'm not complaining. The kids seem to sense that I am doing better too, because they don't seem to be acting as...cautious?...around me. Of course that might just be my perception. Hard to tell.

After a long day of cleaning last week (was it really last week? It seems like a million years ago)- during which I cleaned the kitchen cabinets, swept AND mopped the floor in the kitchen and breakfast room, cleaned the baseboards and walls, AND? AND? vacuumed the family room - I jokingly said to SD that maybe I'm bi-polar and was having a 'manic' day. He looked at me and told me that our therapist thinks that I am. Boy, that threw me for a loop! But then I stopped to think about it and thought, "Hey, maybe so."


Now, considering the dark period I just went through, I think I will discuss this with Dr. C at our next session. Which will be...I don't know when. I didn't go this week because I just couldn't make myself get out of the house except to get the kids where they needed to be. And next week I had to cancel because Bear is having surgery to have the tubes taken out of his ears. (That child can NEVER do things the easy way. More on that in another post.)

I really think that full-blown bi-polar disorder might be a little extreme, but in researching it (gotta love Google) I think that Cyclothymia might be a possibility. I don't know. I will have to talk to my doctor about it.


Trouble is, my doctor is an idiot. You'd think that the Air Force would make the flight surgeons the best-of-the-best to take care of their flyers. Only not so much. It's more like, "Oh, you're pretty mediocre at everything? How about aerospace medicine?" Half the time I go in there, I get a deer in the headlights look. I pretty much tell them what I think is wrong, what medicine I want to take care of it and VOILA! a prescription is handed to me! I honestly believe that if I were to make half a case for it, I could get the flight doc to prescribe me heroin. As long as I accepted the scrip for 800 mg of Motrin along with it. We call it "Vitamin M." They don't call 'em the "Candy Man" for nothin'!

Whew! Lose focus much? (Isn't that on the bi-polar checklist?)


SO. There you have it. Feeling much better. Though this might be an indication of a serious mental illness. (Thus validating the opinions of countless friends, family members and acquaintances.) Or not. We may never know. But I'm smiling right now, so that's something, right?

Because I can't say this to my children in real life

Just shut the fuck up and stop whining already!!!!!!!!!! The television is staying OFF until all homework is done and all toys put away! When have you known me to waver on this? For crying out loud........

sorry for all of the bloggy-shouting lately. it's either here or actually at the children & I figure you all can handle it better than they can. plus you won't tell your teacher that I cussed at you. I don't need any more visits from CPS.*

*just kidding

crash

The cycle of depression can be a wild one. I have ups and I have downs. The past several days have been way, way down. I'm sure that there are things I could and should be doing to help myself, but I can't seem to muster up the energy to do them. Or much of anything else.

The events of the past week have taken their toll and I am really struggling. I am managing to hold it together (most days) and take care of my kids. I want to post something happy and funny here, but I don't have it in me. I'm not finding support where I need it most and that makes me really sad. Honestly, if it weren't for the patience and love of some really wonderful friends (CRB in particular) I'm not sure where I would be.

I'm really not looking for pity, but I need to get this out. I'll try to find the funny again soon. Till then, bear with me. It'll either be dead or pathetic around here.

The Belated Perfect Post Award

I have been terribly remiss. The Perfect Post Awards went up on Thursday and I totally forgot to tell you about MY nominee.

I have adored the Den of Chaos for quite sometime now. I know that if Tama and I lived closer together, we would totally hang out. She has three crazy kids like me. And every once in a while, she gets to have a totally inspired day with one of them. Much like the day she described in this post.

Go. Read. CRY. Enjoy. (but seriously, grab a tissue first)

Counting our Blessings

I have to be very, very vague in this post.

The Candyland periphery has experienced some tragedy. Not to the SugarBabies or SD or me. OR any of our families. But it is a difficult time around here nonetheless.

Days like this make me hug my loved ones a little tighter. As much as I might bitch about my husband or kids, I still feel like the luckiest woman in the world to have them. Each one is an amazing blessing.

So, please do me a favor. Go find your husband or wife or kids or best friend (or allof the above) and hug them, look into their eyes and tell them that you love them. You never know when that won't be an option ever again.

And to YOU: I truly love you guys, The ones who have been around here almost since the beginning and have seen me some great times and some really NOT great times. (Mesolithics!) You'll never know how much it means to me.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Sometimes all I can say is.....

GGGGgggggggggAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaRRRRrrrrrrrrrrraaaauuuuurrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!
::breath:: AAAAaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrgggggggggggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

::deep cleansing breath::

That's better.

Carry on.

How many little boys does it take to change a light bulb?

Ha HA! That title is a trick question! You see, because the answer should be ZERO! Little boys should not be changing light bulbs at all. Not even if they can easily reach the light on the ceiling fan simply by sitting in their loft bed. Never EVER should a little boy (in this house, anyway) be touching a light bulb. Only grown-ups change light bulbs.

At least that is the message I tried to get across to Bear this weekend after he came into the kitchen carrying a light bulb and telling me, "This burned-ed out. I need a new one." Meanwhile, I'm on the verge of a stroke, imagining the possible electrocution or the shards of glass embedded in my son's hands.

I may have gone a little overboard in my admonishment. I say this because after about the seventeenth "never! Do you understand?" his eyes began to glaze over. I'm certain that he was thinking to himself, "Geez, lady, see if I ever try to help YOU again!"

Other actions we learned this weekend that little boys should never do:

• administer punishment (spanking, scratching, throwing to the floor) because, "He wasn't picking up!"
• pour cinnamon-sugar directly into their mouths from the container.
• anything involving power tools.
• taking hammer to glass. (oh, yes, indeed!)
• fix their own waffles.
• get up before 5:30. *yawn*
• put stickers on my walls, doors and/or furniture.
• climb over the fence to play in the front yard without permission.

Yes, it was a looooong weekend. Some people dread Mondays. In some ways, it's my favorite day of the week. Until school is out, anyway.....

What happens when someone has a twisted mind and WAAAYY too much time on their hands

see more crazy cat pics

please pass the vodka

I was reading an article a few days ago (and now I can't find it, OF COURSE) that said, in essence, that people would be surprised how many mothers of young children are alcoholics.

Quite honestly, after the past several days around here, I am MORE surprised at how many mothers of young children are NOT alcoholics.

Pardon me while I go break up another fight....and then pour another a glass of wine.

Here's a chance to make a fool of yourself

I was really excited when I go the email about this contest. I have been wanting to see Mamma Mia! since we lived in England and I still haven't managed it. Air Force towns are not known for their thriving theater districts. So, when I learned that they were making a movie of the musical, I got very happy. THEN....Mothertalk sent me the email about this contest sponsored by Ponds where I could win a trip to the PREMIERE of the movie in LONDON and how cool would that be?! All you have to do is make a video of yourself and two of your friends singing either Mamma Mia or Dancing Queen. OR you can go to the LIVE auditions in NYC on April 28.

HELLO?! What girl our age doesn't know every. single. word. to Dancing Queen? I sent the link to CRB and told her that she and I need to get together with our friend AR and make the video already and then promptly pack for our trip to LONDON BABY! After all, we spent how long performing together in show choir during high school?! Yes, that was....(really long time) ago. But I know that we've still got it, girls!

Then, CRB (a little put out with me, I might add) pointed out that this contest says that it is for you and "two forty-plus-and-fabulous girlfriends" and just HOW OLD DID I THINK SHE IS ANYWAY since clearly, if I am not over forty, then neither is she?!?!

Whoops.

(Though, my dear CRB, you ARE fabulous.) (Sucking up? Maybe a little. She IS the mother of my sweet Buttercup, so I have to be nice or I won't get to smell the baby's head anymore & that would be tragic.)

SO.....if YOU are over forty (and trust me you really, truly don't look a DAY over 29), then why don't you make the video and win the trip to London to the premiere of Mamma Mia! Just be sure to take lots and lots of pictures and bring me back plenty of PG Tips and Aero bars, and if you can manage it some scones & clotted cream. Oh, and if you see Colin Firth, please tell him that I still love him.

I love a man in uniform

Word is, he is good at helping little old ladies across the street. Plus, he gives killer hugs!

What's happening in Candyland? Not much, as it turns out...

Nothing eventful enough to merit a whole post, so I will bore you to death with a quick bullet list of the minutia of our lives:

• SD's new job is now requiring a lot from me. Actually, I kind of like it, but it is cutting into my internet time. Worth it, though.
• SugarPlum played her last soccer game of the season Saturday. All that's left is a tournament in a few weeks and we will be done with soccer for a while. WHEE!
• However, she is ALSO playing volleyball....which goes to the end of May.
• Junior High registration went well. SP is taking choir AND drama. Good times.
• I totally flaked on an ENT appointment for Bear last week. He still has one tube in his ear and the Dr is somewhat concerned about it. If it isn't out by now, he may have to have it removed. I'm not sure how that works...
• Bug has figured out how to read and spell. There goes the last one that we could "spell" around. "Think we should go for i-c-e c-r-e-a-m?" D-a-m-m-i-t.
• Bug also has his first big crush. On a little red headed girl in his class named Lisa. She is a sweetie. MAN he is head over heels! "Mommy, I love Lisa. I want to ma-wy her!" I guess I should start planning the rehearsal dinner!
• BIG NEWS! I have given up Diet Coke! I know, right? I was having waaaaay too many migraines and though that maybe my copious consumption of aspartame might have exacerbated the situation. It hasn't been too hard. Though now, I am addicted to AnTEAdote Organic tea. I get it from my favorite tea site, Adagio. My favorites are the white, black and oolong. Much healthier!
• SP has a mystery rash on her torso that was bothering her enough to go to the nurse and even come home. I'm taking her to the dr tomorrow. If she's willing to miss school for it, it must be something.
• I am totally procrastinating because I really need to fold my 384th load of laundry of the day AND clean the kitchen. *sigh* Some days the glamour of this whole job doesn't quite live up to the brochure.

PSSSSSST! You can wake up! It's over now!

Say it isn't so!

Tonight, I take my daughter - my BABY GIRL - to get registered and pick her schedule for JUNIOR HIGH.

How the hell did that happen?

Day before yesterday, she started Kindergarten. Now? Jr. High. I suppose that now, you'll be telling me that in two more days, she'll be getting married.

And I say, NO. No, she will not be getting married, because she will not be dating BOYS. Do you hear me. She will be 11 for the rest of her life. Yes-indeed-ee-doodle.

I ask you - does THIS look like a girl who is in junior high?

*sigh* I know. Yes it does. It only gets harder from here, doesn't it?

Prepare to see this again next month when I register Bug for Kindergarten....

Just so you know...

There are many things that get on my nerves as a mom. Loud noises. Repetitive noises. Loud, repetitive noises. Whining. Loud, repetitive whining. Asking for candy every. single. blessed. day. after school. You get the picture.

But one of the biggest banes to my maternal tranquility is TATTLING. Lord have mercy, that drives me nuts. If someone isn't causing damage to person or property then just keep it to yourself already! Unless someone or something is on fire or bleeding from his or her eyeballs, I don't want to hear about it!

• "Bug isn't picking up the toys!"
• "Bear said a potty word. You wanna know what he said? Do you? He said POOP. And, also? He said BOOTIE."
• "The boys are just playing in their closet instead of getting dressed!"
• "SugarPlum is calling me names! Plus, also, she won't let me play with that ball I like!"

It never ends. The other problem is that the tattling almost always results in the bickering (I did not! Did too!), but that is another post entirely. No matter how many times or how many different ways I tell them to CEASE WITH THE TATTLING, they still seem to feel the need to come and report to me every minute action of their siblings. WHY? WHY? WHY?
Occasionally, I have sort of, um. spontaneously combusted and maybe, a little bit yelled at them for tattling. Usually this is in the car when I am right there bearing ACTUAL WITNESS to the acts about which the tattler is tattling. I have come close, but have so far avoided screaming "What the fuck is wrong with you people?!?!" But, oh, it's there my friends. On the inside, just under the surface, it's there.
The one who really gets me is SugarPlum. She's ELEVEN YEARS OLD for crying out loud. She knows better. Yet she can't help herself. She does, however think that she has found a loophole in the whole "No-Tattling" clause of the Parent/Child Contract for Peaceful Living(tm). It seems that, in Eleven-Year-Old-Land if you preface any reporting of any kind with the phrase, "Just so you know..." it is no longer tattling. Just simply a relaying of information. As in

• Just so you know, the boys are playing in their room instead of going to sleep
• Just so you know, the boys are playing in the mud and are both reeeeaaaalllly covered.
• Just so you know, the boys have gotten themselves some chocolate pudding for a snack even though you told them they could only have fruit or cheese.

See? She isn't tattling. She is just giving me information to act upon as I see fit. If her brothers get into trouble for it, more's the better. But she isn't tattling. No siree Bob. Not her. She just wanted me to know.
Note to SugarPlum: Just so you know, I may ka-splode the very next time I hear that phrase. There could be collateral damage. You act upon this information as you see fit.

It's not easy being green

Yes, yes, ANOTHER review**. I truly have been reading A LOT lately and I feel lucky to have been afforded the opportunity to see some books I might otherwise overlook. (Thanks Mother Talk!) To wit....

I struggle with the whole "Green" thing. I want to recycle, I really do. But I am very lazy. As such, I will gladly separate out recyclables - if you will come to my house and pick them up for me. Well, maybe not YOU personally, but someone. Otherwise, in spite of my good intentions, those bottles and newspapers are going into the trash. I suffer tremendous guilt over this obvious character flaw. If the powers that be here in Candyland would begin a curbside recycling program, I would be the first to stand up and champion it. I would even be willing to PAY MORE for it. *gasp*

So, you see when I saw the opportunity to read Healthy Child Healthy World: Creating a Cleaner, Greener, Safer Home by Christopher Gavigan, I saw it as an opportunity to assuage my guilt. I was pleasantly surprised to discover a book that explains how and why the little changes we can make in the way we go about our day-to-day lives can truly affect the health and lives of our children right now. It gives realistic suggestions as to how we can make those changes - what household cleaners we use, the foods we buy, the building materials we use - and does it without getting too preachy.

And best of all, Gavigan states more than once that just making one or two changes in our lives can make a difference. This book isn't expecting us to all trade in our minivans for a Prius, start composting, grow our own foods AND spin flax into linen to make our children's clothes. This book is about people in the real world. REAL moms and dads. Those of us who would like to make the world safe and cleaner for our kids but don't know how. Or at least feel overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. He explains how buying locally grown foods is healthier (duh) but also, in the long run, is going make the air a little cleaner, because then we won't need to transport produce all over the world. (Which, incidentally, would reduce the demand for fuel and bring down gas prices, but that's another lecture for another day.)

He also discusses one of my favorite (or least favorite!) topics - high fructose corn syrup. If you have ever spent any amount of time with me IRL, you have heard me rail against this evil stuff. And HERE IN THIS BOOK, I have in writing the same stuff I have been telling all of you people. HA! These same friends also look at me like I'm crazy when I insist on buying organic foods and read labels obsessively at the supermarket. It's really just that I love my children much more than they love theirs. *snort* (Please know that that last sentence was dripping with sarcasm. Also, please don't beat me up.)

The book also has contributions from celebrities about how the things they do to be "green." I was awfully skeptical about these. Some are very cool and helpful. Some made me giggle, because COME ON. I will never be Gwyneth Paltrow and make my kids' baby food from organic brown rice and organic carrots that I grew myself. And no, I don't have a Prius and don't plan on it. I have three kids and all their accompanying crap to haul hither and yon. I need my minivan.

But, I did find quite a bit to think about. I do think that I can recommend this book to you. If you are interested, the Healthy Child, Healthy World website is also chock full of suggestions and all kinds of information about living a greener life. In the mean time, I will be writing notes of apology to all of my friends who read my blog. LOVE YA!!

**If you are bugged by the reviews here, I am considering moving all of my reviews to another site where I have already started concurrently posting the last couple of reviews. This way, I can mention the book or product, or whatever, and if you want to her about it, you can pop over. Any thoughts??

Naptime is the New Happy Hour

I wish that I could take credit for that snappy title up there, but it is actually the title of the new hilarious book by Stephanie Wilder-Taylor. You know who she is. She wrote that fantastic book, Sippy Cups are not for Chardonnay and got filleted on The Today Show over it. Some people have that pole shoved so far up their butts they can't even attempt to have a sense of humor. If you are one of THOSE people, then you are probably wondering how in the hell you got here you probably won't enjoy this book either.

For the rest of us, who enjoy living our lives with tongue firmly placed in cheek, this book is just what we need! Stephanie is a real mom and makes no apologies for it. She cops to bribing her kid with chocolate milkshakes to eat cauliflower and to letting her watch TV for more than 30 minutes of TV a day. (gasp!) In fact, she even gives us little hints as to how to "decode" the Smug Mommies at the playground by using "New Mommy Math." For example, if a Smug mommy tells you that her little darling only watches "one hour of mind-enriching, educational television a day, just go ahead and add two hours. If she tell you 'No TV ever!' add six. It's
that simple!... Similarly, if Smug Mama tells you that her child is allowed only two small cookies after dinner, feel safe adding five more. If she tells you no cookies, only fruit, go with eight."

Wilder-Taylor is wonderful at getting us past our mommy-guilt and making us see that we are all just doing the best we can. And that anyone who tries to make you think otherwise is full of it. She even gives some suggestions for alleviating that stress that can make your head explode, including:

• Make time for Twinkies. A lot more time.



• Three words: Amateur Strip Night



• Get some dental work done just for the Percocet, become addicted, & then if insurance covers it, kick you addiction at Crossroads in Antigua for at least ninety days

I found myself laughing out loud all the way through this book. SD is really tired of me reading it to him. Honestly, I had to restrain myself from sharing excerpts from each chapter with YOU. But then you might not get it for yourself and I really couldn't spoil that pleasure for you. See what a loving soul I am?

Easter Morning in Candyland

The loot

The beautiful, impeccably dressed SugarBabies standing among the aftermath of the Bunny's gifts. (Children who, due to their parents' unbelievable timing - okay, and luck - were not only ON TIME to church but even a couple of minutes early! HA!)

Yes, the Easter Bunny brought Bear golf balls and tees. Golf if his current obsession.

He is risen, indeed!

"I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in me will live, even after dying.26 Everyone who lives in me and believes in me will never ever die. John 11:25 NLT

Happy Resurrection Day from all of us in Candyland!

Four-year-old theology

Bug: Mommy, was Jesus borned on the cross?

Me: No, sweetheart, Jesus died on the cross. He was born in a stable.

Bug: NO. Was Jesus BORED on the cross? Was he bored up there?

Me: *somewhat stunned* Um, no Bug, I don't think he was bored. (::not sure how much detail to go into with a preschooler::) I think he was mostly praying. You know, talking to God.

Bug: But, Jesus IS God, right?

Me: Well....yeah.

Bug: Sooooo....he was talking to himself?

*sigh*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More SugarBaby theology can be found in this post (along with a few other hilarious incidents!).

I'm still alive - sorta

Did you miss me? Just lie and say you did. My ego is fragile, you know. I was gone all last week on the trip-I'm-not-supposed-to-blog-about and barely had a moment to breathe let alone blog. (I didn't even talk to my kids all week! Well, except for the morning SugarPlum called me before school to tell me that Gram was being mean to her. Heh.) We got back to Candyland late Friday night only to repack - this time for the boys, too - turn around and drive to Metropolis for SP's soccer games. When we finally got home yesterday afternoon? The internet was busted. *sigh*

SD got the internet back up this afternoon and I have been on here for the past several hours shoveling thru the literally HUNDREDS of emails I didn't get to read while I was in "the vacuum." So, if I owe you an email, I will get to it as soon as I can. I'm going back to the dr tomorrow because I suspect that my pneumonia is back. I have felt my fever climbing all afternoon and I sound like I smoke 3 packs a day. Nice.

So, at some point in the near future, my goal is to get a REAL post up. But for now, I am concentrating on not going to the hospital. And that is giving me a headache.

Later.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.....

If there is anything that I would call an absolute MUST in parenting - something no mommy or daddy should be without -it's a sense of humor. With humor, you can enjoy your kids and the ridiculous things that they do and say. Without humor, you are nothing but another Joan Crawford just waiting to blow up all over your children. (No! More! wire! hangers!) As such, I believe that any parenting manual worth its salt should contain a healthy dose of humor. Or, maybe because I'm just ADD enough that I need some humor to keep me focused.

Well, I found a book that is just CHOCK FULL of humor and wonderful advice on raising these little monkeys who occupy two of my bedrooms and most of my heart. The Gay Uncle's Guide to Parenting...candid counsel from the depths of the daycare trenches by Brett Berk is a parenting book like no other. The title alone makes me giggle. And since my children have gay uncles of their own (Hi Uncle Matt! Hi Nana Andy!) (not blood related, but even better - we got to CHOOSE them!), I HAD to read this. "Uncle" Brett reminds me so much of my dear friend Andy that I read this with Andy's voice in my head. Andy is ALWAYS giving me parenting advice.

What Bret has over Andy is credentials: BRETT BERK, M.S., Ed., worked as a classroom teacher and a preschool director, and now acts as a research consultant to some of the world’s biggest producers of kids’ media, toys, and consumer products. He and his partner of eighteen years divide their time between New York City and a house in upstate New York.

Is he a parent? No. But this actually can be a good thing. Brett is able to give advice as an outside observer, without the emotion that can cloud a parent. His advice and recommendations are common-sense, logical and dead-on right. Plus, the stories that he uses to illustrate his points are HILARIOUS.

“When your toddler’s bowel movements seem more important than world peace, mealtimes require strategic negotiations, and you haven’t had a night out in
eight months, it’s time to admit something needs to change."

I love this book. My friends are sick of it because I keep calling to read them portions of it. It could be the smug attitude I have when reading the excerpts that may or may not have a bit of an "I told you so-ness" to it that is making them weary. I can't be sure. You'd have to ask them. Except don't.

*cough* *cough* *hackhackhack* *cough* (but no whooping)

Well, the flu finally took the hint and fled Candyland (for the time being - no sense tempting fate). Bug and I were both knocked flat for the better part of last week. Fever, aches, major f_a_t_i_g_u_e, and general whiny-ness prevailed. I don't know how Bug put up with me.

At one point, as Bug and I discussed how our muscles and bones hurt, he told me, "I think my muscles are going to hohrt like this foh-ev-oh!" It was, quite possibly the saddest, sweetest thing you could have ever heard. Blessedly, he was feeling much better and back to wreaking havoc with his brother by Sunday afternoon.

So, yes, the flu fled. But not before calling his good friend Bronchitis to come and take up residence in my lungs. I sound lovely. And, if I hadn't felt so totally shitty last week, I would probably be whining about how bad I feel. But, given some perspective, I guess I feel okay. Except for the extreme tiredness. Maybe from lack of oxygen? Think?

I finally caved and went to the flight surgeon today and he sent me home with the big bag-o-drugs: Zithromax, Xoponex, Flo-Vent, and some codeine syrup (which I will probably just get rid of because that stuff is naaaaazzzzzztttty). Hopefully I will be feeling better very soon. I hope so, because SD and I are ditching the kids for a week (thanks Gram!) for a somewhat official trip (that I am not supposed to talk about here) and I don't want to be spewing phlegm all over the state of TEXAS!

IN OTHER (somewhat related) NEWS:

I can't remember (and am too lazy to look) if I have blogged about my (very strong) feelings about vaccinating our children. I won't get on my soapbox tonight about it (though I reserve the right to do so and may very soon if blog material doesnt seem to come), but Charlie just sent me some info about an organization called PKIDs:

PKIDs is a national nonprofit whose mission is to educate the public about infectious diseases and help families whose children are affected by such diseases. We're trying to raise awareness of pertussis, also known as "whooping cough," through an online resource. The site is:

www.pkids.org/pertussis

Pertussis is a potentially deadly bacterial infection that can strike at any age, but is particularly dangerous for babies. Adults are the number one transmitter of pertussis to babies. One of the best ways to protect babies from pertussis is to make sure that anyone in close contact with them is vaccinated.

At PKIDs’ web site, you can hear an audio clip of what whooping cough sounds like and get advice on how to talk to your doctor about protecting your child or children you may care for from pertussis. This is all part of a campaign to raise awareness of pertussis called "Silence the Sounds of Pertussis."

So there you go. I am just counting my lucky stars that there is no whooping around here. At least not the nasty, potentially deadly kind. With my boys, you can always count on whooping of some sort during each day. Now, where did I put that humidifier?

Conversations when you're sick

"Is it 'feed a fever and starve a cold' or the other way around?"

"I'm pretty sure it's the other way around; 'feed a cold, starve a fever.'"

"What about the flu?"

"I think it's 'tell the flu to fuck off, take a bunch of drugs and go back to bed.' Got Motrin?"

The Liar's Diary

I know. I haven't been posting much lately. I have been too busy reading. Books! MotherTalk has been affording me the opportunity to read some fantastic books lately. As well as a reason to sit down and read them. The only problem is, I end up losing sleep because the books they send me inevitably being so good that I get caught in that "just one more chapter" trap. I guess SugarPlum comes by that honestly.

So, last weekend, I finished The Liar's Diary by Patry Francis. Oh, man. I had heard about this book and I had wanted to read it. I was so excited when it came. I will say that I am not really a big mystery reader. Not really my genre. That said, this book has so many unexpected twists and turns that had me guessing until the end. I loved it!

Francis starts by introducing Jeanne. A mother of a teenage boy, doctor's wife, school secretary. She seems to be comfortable in her life. Things aren't perfect by any means, but she appears to be happy.

Appears.

Appearances are not always accurate as we quickly find out. I really don't want to give away to much of the plot, but I will share this from MotherTalk:

At the center of the story is Jeanne Cross, living the average suburban life
until Ali Mather arrives in town and strikes up a friendship, not only with
Jeanne, but with her husband and son as well. And this friendship, in the end,
will take a deadly turn though the reader will need to decide which person–and
diary–holds the truth.

As I read the story, I found myself gasping more than once. The surprises and revelations throughout the book kept me sucked in. The characters are so multi-faceted and complex. Their interactions and connections are so unexpected at times, eliciting an occasional "Aha!"

By the end of the book, I found myself both sad and gratified for the characters I loved. I can't tell you much without spoiling the whole thing for you. You will just have to trust me that this is a story that will draw you in and not let go. It really makes you take a good look at your own life and consider what little lies we tell ourselves just to get through the day. AM I really happy? ARE my children healthy? What secrets am I hiding, even from myself? Because, sometimes, those secrets can lead to our own destruction. (Or not....this is why I don't write books...)


Oh, and PS. I've been reading Patry's blog and I have totally fallen in love with her. You will, too, I have a feeling....

IRATE (warning:profanity laden post. read at your own risk)

To the Motherfucking Asshole "gentleman" driving the pickup on I-35 Saturday:

Dear Dickhead,

What the fuck is your problem? I am nobody to lay much fault on someone for accidentally rear-ending another person while driving. But I STOPPED and accepted the consequences. What kind of asshole runs into someone and then LEAVES?? And especially when it was patently obvious that there likely was a baby in the minivan that you bashed in? Who drives off without at least making sure that everyone inside is okay?!! Fucker.

I will tell you that that was my sweet Buttercup in that van. My precious godbaby. And her big sister, my other god-daughter. And my oldest, dearest friend. You hit her van with enough force that it shattered the rear windshield and glass was found as far forward as the middle row - IN THE BABY SEAT. Bless their hearts, they were all freaked out. Thankfully, everyone was okay NO THANKS TO YOU. Moron.

I suspect that you are:

a) an illegal alien
b) uninsured
c) a felon out on parole, afraid of going back to jail
d) any combination of the above

Guy, you had better hope that I never EVER find you. Because I will tear you to pieces. I hope that you are experiencing some terrible guilt. I hope that you end up having an ulcer and chronic migraines over this. Mostly though, I hope that nothing like this ever happens to you. Because the pain, anxiety and trouble that this has caused for my dear, precious friend is something that I cannot ever wish on anyone.

Should you wish to get in touch with the victim of your unconscionable act, you can get in touch with me and I will let her know. Until then....GROW A CONSCIENCE.

Sincerely,
SugarMommy

PS To all of the other people on I-35 in Dallas Saturday who failed to stop and help a woman who CLEARLY needed help or to even give her the license plate of the asshole who hit her: You should be ashamed of yourselves. You all saw what happened and you all chose to keep flying right past her. It's almost as bad.

(There really are not enough profanities in the world, or this post about you would have been much longer)

Making me feel like a FANTASTIC mom

I recently had the privilege to read The Sky Isn't Visible From Here by Felicia Sullivan. This is no typical, lighthearted chic-lit. No Bridget Jones. This is real - far more reality than I have ever imagined. Books like this make me need to call my mom and thank her for being so...normal. For taking god care of me and making sure I always had everything I needed. And if you are one of my IRL friends reading this you are saying, "DAY-UM!"

Felicia grew up with a mother who was addicted to cocaine, alcohol and eventually, crack. She and Felicia lived with a series of me who encouraged her mother's addiction and abused both of them. Her mother began calling her "Lisa" at a young age because her lover couldn't pronounce "Felicia." Thereby, essentially taking away the girl's identity at a very young age.

In spite of all these obvious obstacles, Felicia managed to graduate from high school and go to an Ivy League college. There, she was determined to become a different person. She wanted to become the opposite of her mother - a smart, elegant, successful WASP who came from a good family. And she managed to pull it off for a while. Unfortunately, the demons came back to haunt her and Felicia fell into a drug and alcohol addiction of her own.

By the end of the book, Felicia, with the love and support of her step-father among other things, is overcoming those demons once again. She doesn't wrap it all up in a pretty package. She still has such conflicted feelings about her mother. She ends the book with a chapter titled "Before Cocaine" where she describes a trip to Coney Island as a young girl with her mom . It recalls a happy time where the day is all about just the two of them. Where Felicia feels her mother's love and protection. Even there though, she is afraid to tell her mom how much she loves her, for fear of ruining the moment. It concludes with Mom telling Felicia "You're mine" and Felicia chanting "I'm yours. I'm yours."

Bittersweet? Yes. But real? Absolutely.

I can highly recommend The Sky Isn't Visible From Here. With one caveat. You won't be able to put it down. Sullivan's heartbreaking story pulls you in and makes you long to hold that little girl AND to take the woman and shake her and ask what the hell is wrong with her. It's a world that makes me angry and sad and indignant. It makes me thankful for what I have and who I've had the chance to become. And it amazes me that anyone could convey such a life with the clarity and eloquence that Felicia has. I would like to thank her for sharing her story of pain and strength.

You can also read Felicia's blog where she continues to share herself and her life with us. You won't be sorry.

Guess who WASN"T my favorite Valentine

Bug: Mommy, you are very old!

Me: Hmph! What makes you think I'm very old, Buggy?

Bug: All those lines on your face!

Happy *#$^*% Valentines Day!

Okay. As we prepare to send our little ones to school tomorrow to receive another shitload of sugar in the form of Valentines candy (which of course can't be consumed AT THE SCHOOL. Because the teachers aren't crazy! They send all of that crap HOME so that your little monsterssweethearts can bounce off your walls instead) I want to ask you a question (and do a fair amount of bitching - what? you're surprised?!) :

Are you the parent who helps her child prepare Valentines with little candies or Valentine-y doo-dads attached? Or are you more of the here's-your-box-of-32-cards-for-a-buck-fifty-Sign-your-name-and-put-them-in the-impossibly-small-envelopes-and-then-try-JUST-TRY!-to-get-them-closed variety of mom? I'm certain that you have guessed by now that I am more of the latter. My lazy really takes over on this holiday and, while I don't want to send the kids to school empty handed, I also don't feel like putting that much work or money into this.

But then, the kids get home from school and pour out their little Valentine holders and I see the Kisses that Suzie gave everyone (no, not THOSE kind of kisses and not THAT Suzie- she's the slut at the Junior High now), and the pencils that Dylan brought, and the handmade picture frame/Valentines that Hannah's mom sent (You know her right? Damn overachiever makes all of us look bad), and I feel like a cheap, horrible Mommy. And I resent that. I also resent that I have to give every kid in those classes a gift. Because really, the last people I want to give a gift to are the kids who give my children shit everysingleday at school and sent my sweet babies home in tears. (I'm looking at YOU Bailee and Carlos!) Of course I can't send something for some kids and not for others, so I choose to send just cards.

My children, however, are humiliated by the bare Valentines they are forced to hand out. Oh, the humanity. How can they face their peers on February 15th, having given nothing but a paltry card with a Bible verse on it. How dorky. (The Bible verse Valentines are my pathetic attempt at being subversive)

However, I have found a way to counter the whining. I ask them who gave candy last year. Obviously the initial answer is "EVERYBODY!" But when pushed to elaborate because honestly not everyone did, neither one of them can remember who did or didn't attach a special something to the Valentine. I go on to ask if anyone was ridiculed or shunned for giving a bare card. "Well...no...I don't think so."

See? Because all of that sugar after school creates temporary amnesia, thereby remedying the situation immediately AND getting me off the hook. In theory, anyway. Until next February.

So, your opinion please....does this make me a terrible mom or do you feel the pressure, too and resent it as much as I do? And, do you cave or do you stand your ground (she asks, eyeing the bag of Hershey's miniatures that may or may not be going to Candyland Elementary tomorrow)?

Just for the record, I am also against this whole "party favor bag" business at birthday parties. Why do I have to give you a present on MY birthday? I don't remember that. I always figured that cake and a satisfying round of "Pin the Tail on the Donkey" was treat enough. But I'll put my soapbox away for now.....

I need me one of these

and mine aren't even teenagers yet...

The secret peanut

We took the kids out to dinner the other night (because, clearly, we are INSANE) to Texas Roadhouse. If you are not familiar with this restaurant, it is FAB. Truly one of my favorite places to eat. Classy? Not so much. It is one of those places that has peanuts on the table for you to munch on until your actual food gets there. My kids think that this is the ultimate in cool and LUURRRRVE shelling peanuts and licking the salt off of the shells. Because, duh, how cool is that?

On our way out of the restaurant, after STUFFING ourselves to the point of discomfort, Bug grabbed one last peanut out of the barrel (mmmmm food from a barrel!) and decided that he might save it. The ensuing monologue, for some reason, struck both SD and I as truly hilarious and we laughed until we couldn't breathe. SD literally - he is still recovering from pneumonia and had to pull over and let me drive home, he truly could. not. breathe.


BUG~

This is my secret peanut.

I'm hiding my secret peanut in my pocket.

I have my secret peanut in my pants!!

I'm going to hold my secret peanut.

Mmmm! I licked my secret peanut and it tastes salty!!

Oh, look!! My secret peanut has a hole in it!

Is it just us, or was that really funny? Just us, huh? Poor Bug. His parents are 12 year old boys.

This is when Noggin looks good to me

Dear Discovery Channel,

First, I would like to thank you for all that my children have learned by watching your programs. My boys now have an incredible store of knowledge in physics, chemistry, biology, and many other scientific principles. I credit MythBusters, and How it's Made with this incredible and vast education that they have received at the tender ages of six and four.

They have also gained an appreciation of the hard work and sacrifice involved in many of the jobs that are overlooked though incredibly vital to our daily lives. All this through Mike Rowe's antics on Dirty Jobs. Thanks to Mike, my children are more motivated than ever to stay in school and go to college, lest they end up cleaning sewers or tanning leather. (Let me pause for a moment and tell you though, that the episode about horse insemination perhaps was more graphic than I would preferred.. I do realize that there are parental guidance warnings on the show, however, so, I'll take the blame for not taking heed. Still. Ew.)

Now you have your new show Smash Lab. Heaven help me. A show about, essentially, blowing stuff up. It's a little boy's dream come true. All I hear all day now, are "kasplosion" sounds coming out of my boys: "psshhhkkkkkwweeeeerrrrr!!!!!" "BAAAAAMMMMM!!!" "ssshhhhpppkkkooowwwwwwrrrrrrr!"

These children are all day, jumping off the top of the swing-set, rolling things down the slide, launching objects from the tree house. OR worse....mixing things up IN MY KITCHEN to "see what happens." I cringe when I hear one of them say, "Okay, I'll be Adam and you be Jamie!" Or, like Saturday, when Bear came into the kitchen as I was cleaning the oven and said, "Mommy. What if there was FOAM all in the oven?!" If felt it my duty to make it clear that if there was foam "all in the oven" that there would also very likely be a little boy who wouldn't be able to sit down for a week. Hmmmmmm.

SO while I do appreciate the humor and especially the educational value of your programming, I also live in fear for my life and property every day. I am asking to to PLEASE take it down a notch?

Might I suggest a program where some really cool, tough looking guys clean their rooms? Or maybe investigate the chemistry of, say, bathroom cleaner and HOW IT WORKS? Or maybe the physics of the vacuum cleaner and show how very, very exciting it is to sweep the rugs? OOOH! Or the science behind Swiffer and how all the cool guys like to dust. Maybe a show called "Real Men MOP!" Or perhaps, "Cool Guys Clean Gutters!"

Thank you for your time and patience, Discovery Channel People. Keep up the good work. Oh, and please know that if anything does happen to me as the result of a crash or "kasplosion", my attorneys have been instructed to sue you first.

Affectionately,
SugarMommy


PS I haven't even mentioned SurvivorMan or Man vs. Wild. Suffice to say, I fear for my children (and our pets) once summer is here and they have time to put these shows into practice. Expect another letter from me say around, July.

Words that strike fear in my heart

.....from the kitchen

"Mommy! I'm doing an experiment!!"

The Bug is unwell...and I am insane

So, I have been trapped here since Saturday afternoon with a sick Bug. He started coughing Friday morning, which I chalked up to allergies. He had a friend over after school and I agreed to watch one of my friend's toddler while she got her hair cut & colored. I told her that Bug had a nasty cough, but that he hadn't run any fever and that I was pretty sure it was just allergies.

Sometimes I think the germ gods hate me.

About half an hour before baby boy's daddy picked him up, Bug said, "I feel cold, Mommy. My head hurts."

Crap. Took his temp. And? 102.6. Yeah. What a great friend. I spent the next half hour saying, "Stay away from Noah! Cough the other direction! Wash your hands! Why don't you go play Legos in your room?!" Nothing like feeling loved and cared for when you are sick!

I took Bug to the walk-in clinic next morning. Surprisingly we didn't have to wait long (considering how long it took on the phone just to get TriCare to authorize an off-base dr. visit!). The doc was very nice and explained as he examined Bug that there were several nasty viruses going around and that was probably what Bug had. He would have gladly prescribe antibiotic if he thought it would help, but obviously since it was viral, there was no use. Then he started to listen to Bug's lungs from the back and stopped short. "...oh! Well! I do hear a crackle in there. Sounds like maybe some pneumonia. So, I'll go ahead and give him some Zithromax."

I am not a mom who demands antibiotic if it isn't necessary. So I made sure that he really thought Bug needed it and he said yes. So, we stopped at the pharmacy on the way home and go the meds. Then we came home and got my Buggy down for a (much needed!) nap.

We were supposed to have some people from SD's squadron over for supper that evening and had to cancel. I was disappointed because I just found out that this particular woman is a doula and HOW COOL IS THAT since that is my dream job?! But I was fairly certain that they didn't want a side of bacterial infection with their grilled salmon, so we will have to do it another time. Bummer.

Bug looked and sounded terrible. SD went to mass Saturday night so that I could take Bear and SP to Sunday School the next morning and leave Bug home. SD had to pack to go TDY anyway (of course. the Air Force always seems to time things to coincide with family illnesses!), so that worked out. HOWEVER....Bug awoke at 3:00 that night and was awake and miserable until after 5:00. When SD got up in the morning, I told him "Don't wake me up." He totally respected my request. He's a good man, that husband of mine.

(Except that then he abandoned me to go to his course for a week. BUT, he ended up sick too. HA! Okay, not really. I feel bad that he is sick down there and I can't do anything for him.)

So, Monday comes and Bug still feels crappy and has a high fever. Monday night he wakes up again and tells me that it hurts his chest to breathe. So Tuesday we go BACK to the walk-in clinic because there are no appointments on base - of course. Luckily, after waiting about eight days to check in, we were seen very quickly and the doctor (different guy, natch) orders a chest x-ray. Good news! Pneumonia seems to be gone! But since the fever hasn't gone yet, he changes Bugs antibiotic to something even I can't pronounce. And gives him some (nasty!) cough medicine.

By Tuesday night, Bug's fever is somewhat manageable. Though, I finally relent and let him just sleep all night in my bed, figuring that it's the best way for me to get a good night's sleep. It actually worked, for once!

He seemed to be feeling much better yesterday (no fever!), though I did keep him home from school under the "24 hours w/o fever rule." We had supper at church last night but didn't stay for choir. Today, I am keeping him home just as a precaution. There is a girl in his class who has cystic fibrosis and has already been in the hospital a couple of times this year. I figure she doesn't need me taking any chances with her health.

HOWEVER. I have GOT to get out of this house. The child IS going to school tomorrow. If I have to play ninja, Spiderman, or animal doctor, OR watch one more episode of Curious George (post coming soon about the questionable sanity of the man with the Yellow Hat) or Dragon Tales for one more day, I will hurt someone. There are groceries to buy, errands to run, laminating to do (at the kids' school), silence to listen to...

Which only means that one of the other two will come home with a fever today. Because that's how things work around here. Damn those germ gods.

Anyone need a babysitter?

Someone get my mother out of my brain!!

I have been dismayed as of late by some of the things that have come out of my mouth. Phrases that, years ago, I SWORE I would never use on my children. Yet now, I am hearing my mothers voice come out of my mouth and it is disheartening to say the least. Though, on more than one occasion I've almost been moved to call and apologize for my childhood. Almost. There is still enough inner-teenager at work that I cannot give her the satisfaction.

Phrases I swore I would never use:

• Washing the dishes is not the same as cleaning the kitchen. When the counters and table are still filthy, the kitchen is NOT clean. Only the dishes are.


• I can't believe that I buy you nice clothes just to see them wadded up in your bedroom floor. Nobody appreciates anything around here.


• Did you brush your hair? Really? Well, maybe you should go back over it again and this time try to get the tangles out.


• Either YOU clean up your toys or I will clean them up. But when I clean them up, I use a garbage bag.


• Fine. Wear that to school/soccer/outside if you want to. But I don't want to hear about how cold you were all day.


• Stop tormenting your brother. He will be bigger than you someday and you will regret all the mean things you did to him. Trust me.


• Well, I'm not (random friend's name)'s Mom, am I? You'll have to see if you can move in with him/her if that's what you want.


• Why don't you have a piece of fruit instead?


• Not until your room is clean.

See what I mean? Oh, the humanity!

It's not you, it's me...

Charlie sent me this and I thought it was cute. While I have neither the talent nor the TIME to make such a video, I know that some of you would be fantastic at this sort of thing. Though for $15 grand, I might be able to MAKE time...

Swiffer and Warner Music are hosting a contest called the “Swiffer Break-up Music Video Contest.” The Grand Prize for the contest is $15,000.

Here’s how it works:

Participants can submit a short video to YouTube that demonstrates how they “broke up” with their old cleaning products and now use Swiffer for all their cleaning needs. If you enter, you receive 10 downloads of “break-up” songs to use in the video (that’s one of the requirements). The top 10 videos will be posted to YouTube for the general public to cast a vote for their favorite and the video with the most votes wins $15,000.

You can find a complete list of rules, prizes and approved “break-up” songs at the Swiffer brand channel at http://youtube.com/SwifferBreakup

Get busy!!

Crunchy & Sweet

I stole this from Peaches who was a Lemon. Heh. But seriously.

Yes I had another one of those nights.....sigh.

You Are an Apple

You are strong, powerful, and even a bit stubborn at times. You have enough strength to help those around you in trouble. You are adventurous and charming. Many people are drawn to you. You love life, and you enjoy traveling the world. You enjoy fine food, art, and culture. People have accused you of being a snob, but that's not accurate. You do enjoy the best things in life. Unlike snobs, you truly appreciate quality... not just pretend to.

What Type of Fruit Are You?

Attention Staff at Candyland Elementary School

WARNING! WARNING! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! WARNING! WARNING!

Fifth grader on a rampage. Expect scowling, grumbling, pouting, tears and possibly shouting (although it is believed that she saves the shouting for her mother.). This hormonal child is very volatile and may seem fine at first, but when provoked can become very....pissy. Please use caution when approaching the fifth grader. She looks harmless at first in her Choir shirt and ponytail. DON"T BE FOOLED! She is capable of tearing your head right off!

It has been reported that her mother told her that her best friend can no longer come over after school since her room is a disaster. This does not sit well with hormonal 11-year-olds. Mom is unsympathetic.

Please exercise extreme caution in dealing with this child. We care about out staff and want them to keep all of their limbs and appendages.

WARNING! WARNING! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! WARNING! WARNING!

Resolution!

So, what was wrong with that picture? In short, nothing really.


I shot the teacher an email this morning (which is the morning that school started two hours late for no discernible reason other than it was COLD which totally jacked up my morning because then SP and Bear could go to school before 10:00, Bug's preschool was delayed until 10:30 and I had to be all the way out at the base for a lunch at the Officers Club at 11:00 and now there are chunks of hair missing from my head)** (geez....digress much?)


*ahem* As I was saying before I so rudely interrupted myself....

I sent SP's teacher an email this morning asking if I could meet with her during her planning period this afternoon to discuss the assignment. She called later to let me know that it would be fine, but could we just knock it out over the phone?

I told her that I hadn't let SP redo the assignment because we were unclear as to what the actual instructions were. That I saw no problems with the original. She said that she really didn't have a big problem with SP's picture, either. As some of us thought, SP had colored MLK's lips and fingernails a little darker than the rest of him.

Mrs. Englishteacher said that while SP's was appropriate, she had asked the class not to color the lips or fingernails a different color. She said that SP is the best student she has and is quite a leader in her class. Evidently SP's classmates often try to emulate her work. (The assignment was to be completed in class today.) Mrs. Englishteacher was concerned that while the colors on SP's paper were appropriate, she couldn't count on the other students being so judicious. She was afraid that some students might take the difference in color to extreme and that it might be viewed as racist.

I still think that perhaps the teacher was over-compensating somewhat in the name of political correctness, but I saw her point. I also wonder if she wasn't kissing my ass a little. But I thanked her for her time and I told her how I appreciated her willingness to listen.

I had SP just erase the color from the lips and fingernails and go over them lightly with the brown she used for the rest of the picture. She gave it to Mrs. Englishteacher this morning and the teacher was pleased.

Hopefully, I taught my daughter how to stand up for herself (or someone she loves) without having to belittle or try to make the other person feel bad about themselves. While going postal on someone can be satisfying at times (I'm looking at you TXU!), I really prefer to be nice and settle conflicts peacefully. Just like MLK taught us. Right?

**This run-on sentence brought to you by the Horrified Writing Instructors of America (HWTA).

What's wrong with this picture?

SugarPlum's teacher is making her redo this picture as homework this weekend. She told SP something about how in the past, people would make fun of African Americans by wearing black-face. SP is beside herself.

I honestly fail to see what the problem is. I have looked at this a dozen times in the past hour and can't figure it out. So, I am am asking you, my dear friends and readers, do you see anything offensive about this? I am at a loss. Any comments about this are welcome.

Not your traditional parent

This conversation from the other night falls under the heading of "Just start your period already and give us all a break!" She had spent the day rolling her eyes, sighing heavily and antagonizing her brothers.



SugarPlum: I don't know what's wrong with me. I have just felt like punching someone in the face all day!


Me: Hmmmm. Are your panties up your butt? ::reaching down to give cute little tush a pinch::


SP: (shocked, incredulous face) WHAT?????


Me: I said, are your panties up in your butt? When my panties get all up in my butt, I feel like punching someone in the face. Maybe that's what's going on?

SP: hahahahahahahaha!!!!! ::gigging so much that she can hardly walk::

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

SugarDogma

I believe.....

• that children should have to do their own laundry.


• that I should get double workout credit for every time I have to walk across the house to fetch a blanket, stuffed animal, lost shoe, or a Diet Coke. Especially Diet Coke.


• that for every episode of Caillou that I have ever have to watch, I should be compensated with an extra episode of Project Runway, Grey's Anatomy, America's Next Top Model, and/or an entire extra season of Sex and the City.


• that you should tell your loved ones that you love them as often as you can.


• that all personal injury lawyer commercials should be prohibited under penalty of death.


• that I really should have stopped having these acne breakouts by now.


• that if it doesn't taste good, the calories and fat should be deducted from your ass.


• that Moms should get a mute button to eliminated that whiny, shrieking sound that follows such phrases as "bedtime," "go clean your room," or "share that with your brother."


• that I should be also get to project an eardrum-splitting alarm directly through the phone line and into the ear of that Indian guy who keeps calling me from Chase bank, trying to sell me "business services."


• that time should stop while I am on the computer and not restart until I am done reading all I need to read so that I don't have to feel guilty about it.


• that mommy-guilt should burn at least twice as many calories as exercise.


• that every Mommy, regardless of whether she works or not, deserves to have a housekeeper.


• that those roller skate sneaker things should be made illegal.


• that Xanax should be available over the counter for moms.


• that people who call their kids "stupid" or "worthless" or anything similar should be tarred and feathered.


• that shaving your legs between October and April should be banned.


• that Webkinz are a tool of Satan.


• that my girlfriends are the only ones keeping me sane much of the time.


• that I want to be as mean as this mom when my kids get older.

(SugarMommy reserves the right to add to this list when ever something else of importance occurs to her. This could happen with alarming frequency. You've been warned)

Do you feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?

(To paraphrase Dirty Harry Callahan)

My good friend Charlie sent me these "opportunities" a few weeks ago and I promptly forgot to post them. Anyway...here you go. DO you feel lucky? (And also, is the Prilosec tie in freakin' HILARIOUS?)

*****

The Prilosec OTC Winning Play Giveaway. Participants can win a trip with a friend or family member to Super Bowl XLII in Glendale, Arizona (February 3, 2008). You can get all the details and enter here:

http://www.winningplaygiveaway.com/

Prilosec OTC is giving away a total of four trips to Super Bowl XLII. Each Grand Prize winner will receive two (2) tickets to Super Bowl XLII on February 3, 2008, one hotel room for four (4) night's accommodations at a hotel of the sponsor’s choice and $1,000 in spending money. Additionally, more than one hundred instant winners will receive other prizes, including an autographed Brett Favre Mini Football Helmet and $25 VISA® Gift Cards.

To play, go to http://www.winningplaygiveaway.com/. Once a day, you can enter for the chance to win, beginning on December 15, 2007 at 12:00 a.m. ET through January 15, 2008 at 11:59 p.m. ET. After playing, you can download the official “Prilosec OTC Winning Play Giveaway” widget to remind you to play daily.

* * *


EatBetterAmerica.com is giving away free samples of Fiber One cereal. To receive your sample, all you have to do is sign up for the Eat Better America newsletter, here:

www.eatbetteramerica.com/fiber

The Eat Better America newsletter is sent out once per month. It provides recipes and tips for people to start living healthier lives.

Fiber One provides 57% of the average adults daily fiber requirement, has 0 grams of sugar and 60 calories per serving.


Although I guess the question for this last one is "Do you feel regular?"

Dirty Harry is gonna kick my ass. I just know it.

Why I Love Him Wednesday

A while back, Sleeping Mommy started a little thing called Why I Love Him Wednesdays. I thought that it was really sweet since we do spend so much time bitching about our husbands, when in reality we love them more than we can possibly express. I have been meaning to participate, but just keep forgetting. Mommy Alzheimer's or somethings.

Lately, things have been rough in the marriage department. We are coming up on our 14th Weeding Anniversary. And you know what? Marriage is HARD. At least having a happy marriage is hard work. Nobody ever told me this. Or if they did I never listened. Many of you know the stuff we have been through and if you don't, well, too bad. I have decided to (try) to put that behind me and start fresh. I'm not sure how successful this will be, but I have high hopes. Let's pray they don't get smashed to pieces.

Onward...

So this week, I will focus on one of the HUGE reasons that I love SugarDaddy. Actually there are three. He gave me these three smart, funny, beautiful children. And he is an amazing father to them. He makes a point to spend time with each of them. All three of my children know that their Daddy thinks the world of them. They know that he loves them and that he is proud of them and that he is always there for them. This is SO very important in a child's life. They never have to feel like they are seeking his approval. HE shows it and says it and lets them each hear him brag on them. They have such confidence and self-esteem because of how he interacts with them. What an invaluable gift.

I know that regardless of what is going on in OUR relationship, SD never lets the kids feel responsible. And I love him for that. I'm a lucky mommy to have kids with that blessing.

Eleven Years...in the Blink of an Eye

I have been a Mommy for eleven years now. Hard to believe that it's been that long since this.

Eleven years and two days ago
Eleven years ago today

Is it just me or do I Look like I'm the one who is eleven?!

And TODAY. Look at this beautiful young lady! (with her new goalie gloves from GrayGray)

I am the luckiest Mommy alive.

Happy Birthday SugarPlum! I love you!

Tide and Downy and Bounce Sheets, Oh My!!

I think I've figured it out. The source of my never-ending laundry problem. I have noticed that even though I do laundry every blessed day, I never can seem to find the end. As soon as I have all of the laundry put away, there seems to be a basket-full in each and every bedroom. And it frustrates me TO NO END.

So, I started paying attention to what was going on around here with laundry. And I finally pinned down the cause of my dismay.

It's the children. (duh)

They change clothes every single day. Sometimes more than once. And at night? They INSIST on wearing PAJAMAS. What's that all about? Every night. Then they wake up in the morning and put on NEW CLOTHES. Geez, people! Give me a break! Can't you see that those clothes are CLEAN??? I just hung that shirt up yesterday!

What's wrong with what you wore yesterday? Okay, so there's a little spot on that shirt. As if you aren't going to just get stuff on the shirt you wear today. Whose gonna notice? You're in first grade. You ALL have crap on your shirts.

I'm not even going to go into the towels. And the sheets. And the SOCKS. Oy vey, the socks!

But they remain resolute in their ridiculous daily wardrobe changes. Nothing I can say seems to sway them. And worst of all, their father is BACKING THEM UP! Though, the man is the only one who does wear the same thing several days in a row....as military pilots are wont to do. But he sees nothing unreasonable in their actions. Bastard.**

So, as it looks for the moment, I am stuck washing clothes for these people over and over and over again. For the rest of my life. Does anyone else have this problem? Any suggestions?

I'll be in the laundry room if you have any ideas.


**Just kidding! Love you honey!

Also, TIME--if you can find where to purchase it.....

To all my friends who sent best wishes for 2007, it did NOTHING at all.

So, for 2008, please send money, wine or gasoline vouchers.

Thanking you in advance...Cheers!


Happy New Year!

Disturbing

I just got home from Christmas at my Mom's house. (The very definition of FRESH HELL this year) and I was going through the mail.

And?

I got a VALENTINES DAY CATALOG.

What is wrong with you (catalog) people?

Buttercup in Bloom!!

Yes, my secret mission is complete and I now have a new sweet, precious, beautiful god-baby! She is perfect. Just perfect. She went through quite a bit to get here -- and her Mommy went through even more -- but she is so gorgeous that I think it was worth it. You'll have to ask her very exhausted Mommy to be sure, but I'm almost certain that CRB would agree!

I will share the whole song story soon. But we have much too much to do before leaving for Gray Gray and Gram's house tomorrow. Merry Christmas!

The day is looming......

Christmas is only ONE WEEK AWAY!!! Holy Shamoley. I have tons to do, but am headed out of town on a most important mission. Top secret at this point, but I'll let you know as soon as I have clearance.

Until then, please, all of you, remember the REASON we are celebrating! Especially you there, in the parking lot. Chill out already. If you hit me or anyone else with your giant SUV, you will only further delay your shopping trip. What with the paramedics, police, and taking time out for your mug shot and all. So, take a deep breath, count to ten, and say, "Merry Christmas. You parking place stealer."

Must dash!!!

That awesome picture is courtesy of Rick over at Organized Doodles. Go visit and see his many fantabulous illustrations!!

I think Blogthings hates me

Okay, tell me if this sounds familiar. You are perusing blogs even though you are so very, very sleepy and you KNOW that you must go to bed. You tell yourself that you will just check one more because, really, you haven't been over there in ages and after all, she left you the nicest comment the other day so you really should at least pop in and say 'hi.' (also, you must watch those run-on sentences. HONESTLY)


So you pop over to that one last blog and lo and behold! There are the results of a quiz! How weird are you?" That sounds funny! I wonder how weird I am. I'll just take that quiz and see. HA! I'm 43% weird! Heh.


Oh, look! I wonder if I could pass Eighth Grade Geography. YEAH BABY! I totally ROCK eighth grade geography!


Oooooh! Seventh grade science? I RULE. I am so smart!


Hmmmm. What color IS my aura? Pink? I don't think so. I should take that again.


But WAIT! What Muppet am I? The Swedish Chef? Heh. I love him!


What kind of kisser am I? Well, that doesn't even make sense. *yawn*

What shade of blue am I?..... Azure? Oh, that is SO accurate.

I really should go to bed.

Right after I find out my porn star name. Oh, now, I don't care who you are, THAT is funny.


How orange am I? As long as I'm not burnt orange it's fine really. ::rubbing eyes:: DAMN.

::stretching back:: Okay. Just one more, then I'm going to bed.

Could I pass the US Citizenship test? Of course I could. See? With flying colors (red, white and blue, of course)!


What's my emotional IQ? Oh, I am good. So empathetic. (or pathetic....)

What kind of friend am I? *yawn* I am a wonderful friend. OF COURSE.

What Indy Band am I? I have never even heard of them. I'm so old.

All right. I am going to bed. ......

Right after I find out what shade of green I am.

WHAT? Internet Explorer has encountered a problem and must close. Sonofabitch.

Of course, perhaps this is God telling me to go to bed. Since it is 12:30.

I'm such a dork. But, it's not just me, right? RIGHT??!!??

All I want for Christmas...

Here's a question for you: Do you try to influence what your kids ask Santa for or do you use that Santa visit to find out what your kids want?

I'm more of the former. I know what my kids want. Or think that they want. I also know what they will actually play with. And what sort of things I want (and DON'T want) in my house. So, as the time for the great Santa con-fab nears, I start to propagandize (aka "brainwash") my kids as to what to ask for. That way they won't be disappointed on Christmas morning. And there won't be a bunch of noisy crap in my house that might make my head explode.

To wit: Bug started before Thanksgiving telling his friends that Santa was going to bring him a Transformers' Costume. The hell? First, no. Also....nuh-uh. He has about forty three different costumes and even if I DID want to get him a Transformer costume, those are only available at Halloween. Yes, I checked. But still. No. So, I have convinced him that he wants a VTech Nitro Junior Notebook. Because I know that he will actually play with that and that it won't encourage hitting siblings or playmates in the spirit of "being a superhero." Or whatever.

Bear wanted the Lego Mars Mission set. And, at first, I was not at all opposed to it. It has the whole space theme that seems to dominate our lives of late. Then I got to thinking....all those little pieces. Well, not really the pieces, because Legos don't really bother me (unless I step on them in the middle of the night - OW!). But, with the kits...or sets...or whatever...they only get put together correctly with the help of Daddy. (Mommy sucks at Legos.) When Daddy isn't around to facilitate the construction, there is much whining, frustration and angst. And I can't handle it. Consequently, I have brought Bear around to the virtues of the VTech Nitro Notebook.

BUT I have also convinced him and his brother that they want a couple of new buckets of Legos - but just the general, non-committal Legos that can become anything rather than a "kit." Due to the even distribution of Legos throughout my house (seriously, you can't lift a cushion or check a pocket in this place without finding at least one Lego), we are down to about fourteen Legos in the bucket. Fourteen Legos that are the catalyst for one brother to beat the shit out of the other brother at least once a day. So, Santa (or Mommy) is bringing Legos, by golly.

SugarPlum? Is getting to play soccer. She played in a tournament this past weekend with the competitive team that she played with in the fall. She has decided that she wants to play with them next season. So, I got the financial info for the team. And.....Holy Mia Hamm!!!! It ain't cheap to play for a club team. But, honestly, it's a good thing. She is happy playing with this team. And she is really improving. And the girls on the team are such good girls. And the parents are just cool as you can imagine. Not a bunch of snotty "soccer moms" like I was afraid of. So, it'll be good for all of us. Also? Her Christmas present. And birthday present. And Valentines Day. And Easter. And....Arbor Day present.

Me? I'd just like a little, tiny bit of sanity. Less chaos and uncertainty. To know maybe, just maybe, what in the hell is going on in my life and what is going to happen over the next few months and years. You know....omniscience. Is that too much to ask? Can the elves handle it? Please Santa? Pretty please?

Oh, and a month at tropical island resort wouldn't suck either.

A note to my daughter:

Please, for the love of Pete, start your period already. I'm not convinced it will help your attitude at all, but at least then we will have a reasonable explanation for the moody, dramatic, hateful bull***t that keeps spewing from you. It's like non-stop PMS around here lately. GEEZ.

Did you not get the memo? MOMMY is the only one allowed to be moody, dramatic and bitchy. The rest of you are all supposed to gather 'round and sing my praises all day. And get me popsicles. Or maybe margaritas.

So cheer up already!!!

~Your loving Mommy

I was cheering for the Generals

The Harlem Globetrotters game last night was really enjoyable for the kids. I remember watching them on TV when I was a kid and wishing that I could go see them in person. And it's entirely possible that I did. I'll have to ask my parents. I've slept since then. And given birth. Which led to the brain damage that destroyed my memory.

If you ever get the opportunity to go see the Harlem Globetrotters with a group of six year old boys, SEIZE IT. It is hilarious. I had far more fun watching them than the actual "game." They haven't figured out yet that it's just a show and not a real game, so watching them get anxious about it is quite humorous. At halftime, the Washington Generals were ahead and the boys were almost beside themselves.

"Oh, I hope the Globetrotters win! Do you think they'll win Mommy?"

"Gee, I don't know Bear. It's a real nail biter!"

At some point in the first half, one of the players gets "injured" and has to be helped off the court. When he came back on in the second half, on crutches, the boys were all so amazed at how well he can play with a broken ankle.

"Wow! He is TOUGH!"

Once the Globetrotters start to make their comeback, the boys really began to cheer.

"Go 'Trotters!"

When they would score, this one little boys would shout, "YEAH! That's what I'm talkin' about!"

From a six year old.

I. was. rolling.

Bug was really bored at the beginning but he started getting into it after a short while. He was having as much fun hanging out with his big brother and the other Scouts as he was watching the game. By the end, he could barely sit up, but he wasn't about to let me take him home early.

SD got the kids a ball ($25! Crazy!) and got it autographed for them. Very soon, it will destroy all of the breakables in my house, I am certain, because they keep trying to be Globetrotters.

"Under the leg! Behind the back! Now! Bounce it off your head!"

CRASH!!!

Hasn't happened yet, but if it doesn't dry out enough for them to play outside, we are headed for disaster. YIPES!

Tonight, SP is having a friend sleep over. I think we may go see Enchanted. I have head good things about that movie. The most surprising thing about it is that it has a PRINCESS in it and SP actually wants to go see it. This is a new one for me. I'll let you know how it is.

Nos,. since it is almost 2:00 in the afternoon, I guess I'll go shower. Just a thought.