Tinkerbell Is a Whore

OK, she's not a whore. But didn't she try to poison Wendy because Peter Pan liked Wendy better than her?

Brian took the boys to McDonald’s this weekend, and they got another of those lame Walt Disney figurines. This time, they both got Tinkerbell, and Ben was so mad he wanted to throw it away. But since it goes against every moral code and value of a five year old to throw any toy away, he decided to give it away.

“Why don’t you give it to Isabel?” I asked. She’s our five year old neighbor.

“No, I’m going to give it to a boy,” he said.

“Well, if you don’t like it, what makes you think another boy will?”

An hour or so later he appeared at the kitchen table, Tinkerbell in hand.

“Mom, why is Tinker bell so pretty?”

“I don’t know, why do you think she’s pretty?”

He looked at her for a moment. “Because... her makeup and her wings and her chest and her skirt. That’s why she’s pretty.”

Oh my God, did he just say her chest?!



“So does this mean you want to keep her?”

“Yeah, I’ll keep her in my bedroom.”

“Great.”

For now, any woman that attracts my son with her chest and mini skirt is a whore. Hopefully by the time he reaches high school, I'll be able to handle it with a little more diplomacy.

Shout It Out: 10 Things I Hate About Laundry

My latest post is up at DotMoms:

1. Every dirty sock, shirt and pair of pants lands in the hamper inside-out.

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night ...

John brought home a cold last week, and as of today, Ben, John, Ava and I all have it. I spent the entire day feeling like crap with three kids who felt like crap. But my mom was extremely brave and entered our House of Snot, for which we are forever grateful.

Ava seemed OK yesterday, except for a stuffy nose, but today she started acting all lethargic and wouldn’t nurse. We took her temp, and it was 100.4 degrees, so the pediatrician wanted to see her. Of course, when we got to the office she was all smiles and her temp had dropped to 99.1. Then we left and she again became sleepy, hot baby. So she had her very first dose of Tylenol tonight.

Thank God, the boys are well enough to go to school tomorrow. This is Ben’s third full week of school, and already he has a half-day. What the hell’s up with that? Plus, he gets out at the same exact time that I need to pick up John. Since their schools are a 15-minute drive apart, I have to pay extra for John to stay at preschool so I can pick up Ben from kindergarten. How do working parents do it?

Brian is working late tonight. It’s nearly 10 pm and he’s still at the office. I miss him when he works late, but what I really hate is when I start getting all paranoid, checking closets and locking the basement door. It doesn’t help that it’s pouring out and windy, and very dark – I think all the street lights burnt out or something. The screen door keeps rattling, as if someone’s trying to get it open.

So I figured, what better way to calm my nerves than to announce to the Internet that I’m home all alone and scared? Now that I know you’ve got my back, I’m going to go try to relax.

Au revoir, Monday. You sucked, but I guess that's your job.

Brag Not, Old Woman

This morning, I re-read this post, and it was a good thing because I was feeling pretty down. My house is in shambles. Really. We need a new floor in the kitchen/hallway/half bath, the one we have is dreadful. (If you look at this picture, you can see it.) Our toilet’s leaking, and John feels he must add to the mix by spritzing the rags we put on the floor. The roof is falling off into our driveway -- that just can’t be good feng shui. Not to mention the clutter. OH MY GOD! Help me exorcise the clutter!

I know, I know. There’s a time for a blueberry-muffin-scented home I can let non-family members enter and there’s a time for urine-scented bathrooms, overfull kitty boxes and clutter of various origin stacked six feet high on every flat surface. There's a time for getting things done and a time for ignoring said clutter as well as writing deadlines, hungry children and last night's dinner dishes to sit down and write an inane blog post.

On the body front, mine has disappointed me. First, remember all that breastfeeding bravado? I do believe I used the oxymoron “effortless weight loss.” Well, apparently the breastfeeding/weight-loss connection applies to those ages 34 and under, because my cellulite-laiden lower half has not lost one pound in the past 10 weeks. Not. One. Even though I gave up ice cream and big creamy Starbucks coffees.

And, remember all that bragging about how Ava sleeps through the night? Well, I know it’s in very bad form to brag about such a thing. The fact that she's barely three months old and has been sleeping 12 hours straight every night for the past four weeks, I know. I shouldn't even say it out loud. But I want you to know that I have paid a small price.

Yesterday, I discovered I cannot blame carrying Ava for the backache I’ve had all week, and I don’t need to divorce Brian or get a prescription for postpartum depression. No, I just had a standard case of PMS. My uterus is back in business less than three months after giving birth.

I told Brian this and he said, "Great!"

Since we're not having any more children, I demanded to know what definition of "great," he was referring to. I think I even got the dictionary and stood there with my arms crossed, waiting for an answer, because it appears that PMS no longer ends when the "M" begins.

That’s what I get for bragging.

Not Just Rock Star: INXS, Rock Star: The Series

It’s over, J.D. won, all is right with the world. I never cared about INXS before watching the show, but now I’m interested. So the PR aspect of INXS’ participation paid off for them, in my view. I hope they do well.

While I guessed the winner, I failed to realize that, of course Mark Burnett would turn this into a series! Why not build on that investment and momentum?

So, who will it be next year? Free Thoughts and MetroDad mentioned Queen. Wouldn’t that be the ultimate? But I pity the rocker trying to fill Freddy Mercury's shoes.

Free Thoughts also mentioned Van Halen, but I don’t think they deserve it. Eddy will just fire the singer before the CD even comes out.

So who do you think? The Grateful Dead? Blind Melon?

Bueller?

Rock Star INXS: The Finale

I’ve got my Harpoon UFO on ice and my stereo speakers adjusted just right for tonight’s Rockstar INXS finale. In a previous post, I said I thought Mig or J.D. would win. Let me revise that to say it will be J.D., but if not, it’s got to be Marty.

Mig’s just not badass enough to front INXS. Sweet ass, yeah, but not badass. He’s just too theatre-y for the band. I hated, hated his rendition of "Paint It Black." The band apparently liked it, so I admit they could choose him. But I will fall over and die of disappointment if they do. I think Marty summed it up best when he expressed his fear that Mig was "saving it all to the end," because so far, he hasn't shown very much rock talent.

Speaking of Marty, well, with some vocal training and medical care, I think he’d do a great job. I think part of the time he shouts and part of the time his vocal chords are giving out on him. And, I see more as a solo act. He brings so much persona -- I think he would change the face of INXs so much that it would be like a different band. It's ironic that he said INXS fears J.D.'s behavior, because I think the band fears his self-admitted control-freak tendencies even more.

J.D., despite his “dangerousness,” blends in better -- his style seems to jibe the best with what I know INXS to be. When he decided to just jot a few ideas down and otherwise go into the songwriting session with Andrew cold, he could have blown it. I was like, "Dude! No!" But, as one contestant said before, everything J.D. touches seems to turn to gold. He managed to have a true songwriting session with Andrew. They created something together. This spark prompted Andrew to embrace J.D. with a huge smile at the end of the session, saying, “I don’t know how we just did that!” I just think, for an artist, it doesn’t get any better than that. Of course, the other way to look at what Andrew said would be, "I don't know how we just did that," considering that you did no preparation whatsoever. But J.D. seems to believe that "over-preparation is the foe of inspiration." We'll see if that works for him.

So, my pick’s J.D. If you need anything between 10 and 11 tonight you can find me drinking beer and rocking out. Maybe I should get some earplugs for the kids ...

Sunday Morning Funnies

• Check out the most dead-on, amusing description of a four-month-old baby that I've ever read, over at Laid-Off Dad.

• The Zero Boss posted about this thread a few weeks ago, calling it the "Funniest. Thread. Ever." It is.

• Since two threads are better than one, here is a second you may not have read yet. Julie at a little pregnant wrote about her first childcare "boner." She asks her readers to share their own boners, and do they ever. You are guaranteed to laugh at loud, here's a glimpse:

"I came home from work at 6:00 a.m. one morning to find my baby daughter shoved between the gap of the sectional with only a woman's day magazine for a diaper. My hubby was sleeping naked by the kitchen window which went all the way to the floor ..."

I started to post my childcare boners at Julie's but realized I had too many and had to instead humiliate myself publicly by posting them to my blog:

• I'm 11 years old, entrusted to take my 3-year-old niece, 4-year-old neighbor and 6-year-old nephew to the nearby riverside park, located a short walk away. We arrive to the ever-present flock of geese, which my niece and nephew charge with gusto while my neighbor begins screaming as if he'd stepped on a yellow jacket. I picked him up to calm him when my niece began screaming: a goose had her firmly by the cheek, and showed no signs of letting go. I swatted and screamed at the goose as it shook my niece by the face but to no avail. Then a young couple came to our rescue. The guy clubbed the goose with his arm and his girlfriend offered to drive us home. I refused due to my mother's ingenious method of allowing me to watch the nightly news to induce fear of strangers. But she forgot to induce fear of geese.

• I'm 12 years old, entrusted to take the same niece and nephew to the playground of our seasonal campground. First, I give my niece an "underdog," pushing her swing high above my head as I walk beneath her then let go. She totally doesn't hold on and falls backward onto her head in the dirt. Do I take her back to my parents? Noooo. I allow her to follow her 6-year-old brother up the now-illegal, tall metal slide. Both standing at the top, they begin to scuffle, my nephew pushes her off the slide and she free falls 8 feet to the dirt! I think I was in shock as I walked her back to our campsite. She was, somehow, fine. She's now 26, newly engaged and a childcare provider, probably inspired by her own traumatic experience as a youth. And she still talks to me.

• I'm 30, entrusted with the entire life of a baby. Exhausted from pregnancy, I place my 1 year old in a play yard in my family room, crawl behind the couch where he can't see me and collapse into a nap. A while later he fusses so I drag myself over to scoop him up. He greets me with a wide-mouthed grin, revealing a large yellow jacket in his mouth. After I stopped screaming and my heart started beating again, I flicked the bug's head and wings out of his mouth. I could tell it was dead, and hoped I'd gotten it all. A moment later, the abdomen appeared, stinger poised on his delicate tongue. I think I bruised his lip knocking the thing out of his mouth. Evidently I didn't check the floor very well for choking or heart attack hazards.

• I'm 35, and allowed my three year old to fall out of his 3-foot-high bed not once but three times before installing a bedrail.

• I'm 35 and, in the most traumatic and near-fatal boner of them all, I nearly smother my newborn by rolling on top of her while cosleeping.

Well, I haven't re-read this but here you go ... We're off to the park, where I'm sure I'll think of a few more boners to add. I hope child protective services isn't reading this.

UPDATE: OK, I did think of two more:

• I pick up 15-month-old Ben from his babysitter's to find him sweaty and cranky. When we get home I offer him a snack which he refuses. He continues to crank so I bring him outside. This cheers him up a bit but then he cries again, so I pick him up and carry him around, letting him pick leaves off the treas and the like. I begin to think that he must be sick. But then, about 45 minutes after we left his babysitters, I realize I haven't checked his diaper. I remove his diaper and find not only poop but the worst diaper rash I've ever seen, complete with red skin and white welts. No wonder the poor kid was cranky!

• I drop 3-year-old Ben off at preschool. His teachers eye me doubtfully as I tell them I don't think he's sick, it's just the usual separation anxiety. When I pick him up, they tell me he wasn't right all day. He seems fine to me as we eat lunch, then head downstairs to put in the laundry. Suddenly he starts to cry because I put something in the washer that he wanted to put in, and I chalk it up to a temper tantrum. I bring him upstairs, noticing that he's kind of hot but chalking it up to the crying. I put him on the couch and he begins acting all delirious, rolling his eyes into his head and then passing out. Finally, I bring him to the doctor, where I find out he has 103 degree fever and a double ear infection. Go, mom!

What I Learned Friday

Thanks to Sheryl for this meme.

1. If you put 10-week-old baby on her back after nursing on morning-engorged breasts she will vomit buckets every single time. So don’t think you can get away with it. Ever.

2. There is such a thing as too many Legos.

3. When you go to the bank with your three year old, and sit at the desk with a flurry of paperwork, the bank representative will eye you with suspicion. When you ask to open an savings accounts for your three children but answer “Um, no, no I don’t,” when she asks if you have their social security numbers, she will appear relieved not to have to do all that paperwork while your three year old explores the items on her desktop and the wires coming out of her computer monitor.

When you tell her you received a new debit card in the mail and you don’t know why, because yours doesn’t expire until next year, she will look things up on her computer then place a call to a colleague, whom she will continue to question until she gets to the bottom of things. When you meanwhile notice that the new debit card was to replace the one from your household checking account, not your personal account, so that everything makes sense, and when you tell her this, she will show the first outward signs of annoyance. When you laugh nervously and tell her you just had a baby 10 weeks ago and, oh that mom brain, she’ll say, “What else can I do for you?”

When you tell her you forgot the PIN on your personal debit card, she’ll march you over to a small black box so you enter the PIN you’d like. When you get back to her computer, where she looks up your account again, she’ll look up at you and say, “The new PIN you entered is the one you couldn't remember.”

Then her eyes will become stoney and you will realize that she thinks you smoked pot before coming to the bank and that she will summon security should you ask anything more of her.

Or maybe that’s just me.

4. Mom brain does in fact worsen each time you give birth.

Your Questions Answered

UPDATED

Here are my answers to the meme I posted last week. Thanks for playing, ladies!

Dena asked:

1. How would your friends/family describe you?
People who don’t know me well think I’m “hard to read” and perhaps a snob. I’m one of those misunderstood shy people. But those who know me, I think, see me as loyal, straightforward, unconventional, friendly, diplomatic, driven, intelligent, conservative, funny, into health and fitness, and into music (contemporary rock and R&B, mostly). My three siblings probably see me as a little spoiled, too. I’m the baby of the family, and I've had it good.

2. What do you consider your best physical feature?
My health. Other than that, my eyes are O.K. And my small waist.

3. What do you consider your best personality trait?
Probably that I'm diplomatic. It’s a Libra thing. The results don't always show it, but I do usually have diplomatic intentions, and that's what matters most, isn't it? Our intentions? It helps me in political discussions, to understand the issue and to communicate with people who I disagree with. I tend not to hold grudges. On dictionary.com, it defines "diplomatic" as "skilled in dealing with sensitive matters or people." It's not that I'm a sensitive person, because I'm not. In fact, a lot of the emotional "crap" of life goes right over my head. So ignorance is bliss I guess. Shannon's turn:

1. Describe yourself as a teenager.
Overweight, smoker, looking to party, looking for a boyfriend but not ready for intimacy -- emotional or otherwise, introverted, hated the way I looked, had no idea how to dress, sedentary, insecure -- afraid of everyone and everything. Boy, do I miss those days. Yeah.

2. Do you think you are a good example to your children? Or are you a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do Mom?
I try to be a good example, but as a recovering perfectionist, I have to admit to myself that my kids will see me warts and all. My biggest problem is yelling. Sometimes, I yell before I even realize I’m going to do it. Not a shining mommy moment. And, yes, I then tell them to use their "indoor voice."

3. What do you think are the main differences in raising boys vs. raising girls? Do you have any double standards?
So far, the main differences are the clothes: boys' have footballs and tractors on them and girls' have butterflies and flowers. But our girl has been here just two months, so I’m sure more differences will appear. As far as double standards, not really. Although I bet my husband does. He tends to want to be strict with the boys; I will enjoy seeing him become a marshmallow with his little girl.

One more thing about going from two to three children. Since we're already so busy with the boys, having Ava doesn't seem like such a hardship like it did with the first two. It's more of treat to have a little baby to tickle and make funny faces at, in between giving time outs and playing Hungry Hippo.

And last but not least, Halloween Lover :

1. What is the biggest change from pre-kids to post-kids? I know your first was a while ago, but I still want to know! How about from 2 to 3 kids?
The biggest change is that I can’t spend several hours a week working out, writing, cooking, reading, eating out and shopping like I used to. Most days, I can’t spend any hours doing these things. Going from two to three kids so far has been a bit easier than I thought. But Brian and I are outnumbered now, a fact that strikes fear in our hearts. Plus, my God, the laundry!

2. Does your family know about your blog? (this would influence what questions I'd ask too)
No, and my friends don't either. The one notable exception is my mom, but I don't hide anything from her anyway. When I started my blog, I hoped to become a DotMom. I knew if I did become a DotMom, I would put it on my resume. And, I knew that DotMoms would link back to my site. So I always wanted to keep it professional. I write it as if all my friends and family were reading. But if I knew friends and family really were reading, I might become self-concious, so I keep my mouth shut.

3. What is your favorite "Me" thing to do? A perfectly selfish day, lets say.
Ah, the fantasy:
Sleep late. Drink coffee while I check email and a few blogs. Hit a few yard sales or antique dealers. Go to the bookstore, gather some books and sit in the cafe, eating a chocolate croissant and drinking an oversized coffee concoction. Come home, go for a walk, take a shower, maybe do 15 minutes of decluttering, read for a while. Take a nap. Cook a complicated, delicious dinner to share with my husband while listening to some choice music, or order in from our favorite Chinese or Thai place. Watch a movie, have a few beers, stay up too late. Yep, that sounds just perfect!

Andrea didn't ask a question but wondered in another post if I took pictures of Ben's first day of Kindergarten. Here are two of my favorites:

What I Remember From Your First Day at Kindergarten

My latest post is up at DotMoms:

The way you smiled when your new teacher asked you to pose for a picture ...

Not That I Want "Revenge"

At about 9:17 a.m. on Saturday, we arrived at Story Land in Glen, N.H., after a three-hour drive (including a half-hour side trip to pick up my mother).



Along the way I vacillated between squashing thoughts about the Dream Writing Gig That Was Not to Be, and wondering whether Julie would even publish what I’d submitted Friday morning. But once we got to the park, all the controlled chaos that is an amusement park visit with kids ensued, and I become lost in my family and some mild G forces of various origin.

My socks and sneakers got soaked during my second, fate-tempting turn on Dr. Geyser's Remarkable Raft Ride. I walked around barefoot for a while with my socks sprawled on the stroller, hoping they’d dry (they didn't). I don’t love going barefoot, but the park is so clean that I managed for a while. But when we entered the Pixie Kitchen -- a “mess tent” of sorts in which a continuous stream of young children had eaten for the past five-month season -- I got grossed out. So I cleaned my feet with a wet wipe, put on Ben’s extra pair of socks (!), and all was dry and fresh again.

Things went well. We tackled ride after snack after restroom, from park opening to close. Even Ava got a treat when she rocked out to the vacuum-like sounds and steady vibrations of Professor Bigglesteps Loopy Lab.





Ben did split his lip in the submarine at the Ocean's of Fun Sprayground, John banged his knee when he face planted on the pavement, and Ava cried for 20 extra minutes before we realized she had a dirty diaper. As for their caregivers, my mother strained her neck on the Turtle Twirl, Brian couldn’t feel his thighs on the drive home and my back continued its descent into postpartum-scoliosis. But overall, a success.



This morning, I see that Julie published my post. Our assorted physical ailments have healed. Outside, the sky is light indigo blue, the clouds, puffy and white. The leaves on the trees tremble, belaying a pleasant movement in the air. Brian has taken the boys bike riding, and after Ava nurses we'll walk to the park to join them.

And to facilitate closure on the job that got away, I decided to order myself a new T-shirt.

I Got Nothing, Either

I'm posting the meme that all the cool kids are doing. I do have some things to post about but I can't get my head together because:

- Due to a breakdown in plumbing we've had to shower using a garden hose for the past week, and there's no end in sight.

- I found out yesterday that I didn't get a job that I really wanted. The kind of job that doesn't come up every day and that I was perfect for. Perfect, I tell you! So today I feel gross.

- My house is a disaster and I have to clean it because tomorrow we're going to Story Land.

See, I ended on a positive note! Not all doom and gloom around here, no siree.

So, here it is:

1. Ask me 3 questions. Any 3, no matter how personal, private or random.

2. I have to answer them honestly. I have to answer them all.

And if you wish:

3. In turn, you post this message in your own blog or journal and you have to answer the questions that are asked of you.

So, go ahead, ask away! And remember, if no one asks me any questions, I'll cry.

Who's the sweetest lady in the blogosphere?

Why, Michele of Coffee Soup, of course! If you know her, then you knew exactly who I was talking about.

As further proof of her sweetness, Michele knitted a new hat and booties for Ava. As soon as she told me what she'd sent, I knew they'd be the coolest, most fashionable hat and booties in Ava's closet. And they are, look!



Of course, Michele would kill me if I didn't have Ava model the items that she spent so much time and care knitting for her.



"I'm trying to smile, but there's something on my forehead."



Mary Janes! (Notice the heart buttons.)

Thank you, Michele. They're gorgeous, as are you.

Disaster Relief

Emily and Cooper have set up a clearinghouse at Been There, for those wanting to offer or receive supplies or temporary housing.

To volunteer or donate money, check out the Katrina Donations page at the Federal Emergency Management Agency.

A few quotes from this morning's news give a mere glimpse of how dire the situation has become:

"At the Superdome, groups of refugees broke through a line of heavily armed National Guardsmen in a scramble to get on to the buses.

Nearby, about 15,000 to 20,000 people who had taken shelter at New Orleans Convention Center grew ever more hostile after waiting for buses for days amid the filth and the dead.

Police Chief Eddie Compass said there was such a crush around a squad of 88 officers that they retreated when they went in to check out reports of assaults.

'We have individuals who are getting raped, we have individuals who are getting beaten,' Compass said. 'Tourists are walking in that direction and they are getting preyed upon.'"