Thursday, December 31, 2009

Manic Mommy Zeitgeist - 2009

Each year, Google publishes its Zeitgeist, compiling all the various search terms all of us collectively have typed into that little box in the upper right of our screens which, taken as a whole, present "the spirit of the times" for 2009. Never let it be said that I let a good idea go un-plagiarized. And so, with the help of Google Analytics, I present:

The Top 5 Manic Search Categories for 2009

5. Alcohol:
- The answer to the burning question of 2009? No, you're not supposed to have alcohol while on Nutrisystem. You're welcome.

4. Perverts:
Looking for:
- Joan Van Ark barefoot (srsly?)
- Picture of babes in bra blouse
- "she's old but she suck"

3. Potty Issues:
Some that I can relate to, although not necessarily help with are:
- Baby ate dirty toilet paper
- Boy Plunger
- Is it normal for a four year old to smear toothpaste all over? (Answer: YES!)
- My two year old son at dirty cat litter

Thanks for making me feel normal again!


2. Manic Behavior:
- My wife is a little manic + constant phone calls/messages
- What do you do when you're manic?
- He's the manic
- She's the manic (wouldn't you like to be a manic too?)
- Words to She's a Manic


1. General Silliness:
- Do bees have tongues?
- Cheap Mommy Vacation (see category #5)
- christine@christinerocks.com

and my favorite key word search for 2009 is:

- My dog gave birth three days ago and is painting still.



Here's wishing us all a prosperous, peaceful, happy, healthy 2010 full of optimism and opportunity.

Happy New Year!

Saturday, December 26, 2009

I Think I'll Post This Every December 26th

God Bless Us. Every One.

I wanted to give each of you a little something as a thank you for everything you've given me this year. Well, it didn't arrive in time for Christmas. We're all moms here, so I know you'll understand.

For my friends, the someday moms: May your eggs be viable and your uterus be hospitable. Or may you find another way.

For my friends, the gestating moms: May the first and last trimesters go by with ease. May you take the sleep when you can get it. May you savor the miracle.

For my friends, the laboring moms: May your OB be on duty when you go into labor and free with the drugs. May your baby's head be small. May your partner know his place is to shut up and shovel ice chips.

For my friends, the brand new moms: May your baby latch on like a champ and sleep in long stretches. May you shower most days. May your husband have a great paternity leave policy.

For my friends, the mothers of newborns: May your child find a schedule. May he take a bottle, when necessary. May you be there for her first smile.

For my friends, the mothers of infants: May your child sleep through the night. May she be allergy-free. May he be an "easy baby".

For my friends, the mothers of toddlers: May your child not figure out how to open the child proof locks. May she not share food with the dog, then put it back in her mouth. May he not hit the terrible twos before his first birthday.

For my friends, the mothers of preschoolers: May potty training last days, not months. May she not suffer from separation anxiety on the first day of preschool. May he always like you better than his teacher.

For my friends, the mothers of kindergarteners: May your child adjust beautifully to big kid school. May the teacher recogize the uniqueness and individual gifts of your child.

For my friends, the mothers of elementary schoolers: May your child neither bully nor be bullied. May she love learning in all its forms.

For my friends, the mothers of tweens: May your child find his own moral compass. May friends, music, and movies not steal the precious years of childhood innocence.

For my friends, the mothers of high schoolers: May your children's deeds make you proud. May you be their mother first and their friend, second.

For my friends, the mothers of college students: May your children remember your lessons as they take their first fledgling steps to independence. May they make good decisions and know their own minds.

For my friends, the mothers of adults: May your children grow to be intelligent, loving, kind, good, hardworking, humorous parents. And may they take good care of us as we grow old.

For all of us: Though the days are long, the years are short. May we treasure the good ones and run down the clock on the bad ones with humor and love and friendship.

It was either this or a fruitcake.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Sending...

Tidings of Comfort and Joy

Wishing a Merry Christmas to all my friends in the Blogisphere

You are a gift

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

No Stupid Deed Goes Unpunished


My wonderful gay boyfriend, Jason, a teacher, posted a truly technicolor set of stories about kids in his class puking through the years. Coincidentally, I was with my dear high school friends over the weekend and we were reliving one of my own favorite puke stories:

We were seniors in high school and my friend, Chris' parents were away for the weekend. As you know, this means a party. So we all headed over and commenced with the drinking. Mary was the first to fall. One minute, she was mid-conversation with Chris' sister, Donna. The next, she's face down in the kitchen sink, losing everything she's consumed in the last (month) day. God love Donna. Without missing a beat, she casually walks over to the sink, turns on the water and the disposal, and continues with her story.

Unfortunately, Mary has not gotten sleep-over permission and it's too late to call her parents. We brilliant, drunk adolescents decide to bring her home. I can't remember what we thought about nearly-unconscious Mary getting past her parents. I would assume they were asleep.

As luck would have it, our friend Sue's boyfriend, Chris, had worked that night and had arrived shortly before Mary's puke-fest. He became our designated driver. I was slightly more sober than the rest, so I was the Wing Man. We trundle Mary into the car with Chris driving, Mary in the passenger seat and me, sitting on the bench seat between them. Mary's getting the spins so we decide to recline her seat, forcing me to scootch a little closer to Chris.

It was at a red light on Winter Hill after midnight that we look over to see Sue's mother (aka, Chris' future mother-in-law) pull up to the light next to us. We wave. She stares. The pieces...click...into...place. Uh oh. The light changes and we take off.

The next day, Sue's mom comes into her room, closes the door, and tells her she has something to discuss with her.


*** Please heed this warning: Never, ever, ever, ever do a Google Image search for "puking". Ever. ***

Monday, December 21, 2009

It's a Sing-Along!

We interrupt regularly scheduled blogging for a musical interlude:

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Dear Craigslist:

For Sale: Brother-in-Law

1964 Heterosexual.
Never married. Low mileage. No baggage.
Original hair and teeth.
Handsome, smart, funny, athletic.
Owns own home and business.

Interests:
Sports,
Mooching meals,
Drinking beer,
Long walks on the beach
Name-calling
Introducing minors to scatological humor
Arriving 30 minutes prior to nephews' bedtime for
Wrestling Extravaganza
!

Motivated seller.
All serious offers considered.
Pictures furnished upon request.


The fine print:
*BIL is being sold "as is" and all sales are final.
** Potential buyers must survive pass rigorous interrogation by mother, SILs, big sister.
*** Apply at your own risk.


Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Monday, December 14, 2009

Stranger Than Fiction

Sarah at Slouching Past 40 challenged her readers to write a story in 100 words. This is my submission and my true story:


It was a Sunday night and she’d opted not to stay at her fiancé’s house but head back to her place to start off the week.

She couldn’t put her finger on it, the house simply “felt funny.” Still, she saw nothing unusual in the semi-darkness. Flipping lights as she went, she walked toward the bedroom.

As she reached for the closet door, he stepped out.

“Please don’t,” he asked as she backed away, reaching for the phone. For a moment she almost stopped. If he just left, it would be okay.

Then, “No. Never again.” She dialed the police.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Anatomy of a Guy Friendship


Last week, after school, HRH caught sight of some kids playing ball and decided to join them. I was pleased as HRH has recently given up most forms of outdoor play, preferring Legos, TV, Wii, Homework, pretty much anything to outdoor exercise. I was also pleased because he insinuated himself into a group in which he knew no one and just waited his turn until it became clear he was indeed included.

The game proceeded for the better part of an hour while I chatted pleasantly with some other mommies over by the play structure. Suddenly, a loud scream rent the air and we all turned to see the victim. It was HRH, running toward me, crying, clutching his crotch! Oh...crap.

As we sat, me cradling HRH, him cradling his package, we managed to piece together what had transpired:

Another boy had been 'fake punching' HRH to make him flinch, then calling him a scardy cat (aside: strange word to spell, funnier that kids still use it). HRH in turn pulled a fist up to the the bully's face and told him he'd "show him scared". I'm actually perfectly okay with HRH's actions and truthfully quite proud of him for standing up for himself in the face of an older (2nd grade) kid. Unfortunately, the kid wasn't as impressed and instead kicked HRH squarely between the legs!

We were able to identify which child and his appropriately horrified mother dragged him away for some serious talking-to. After everyone had calmed down, the mother brought her little hooligan son to HRH to offer an apology. The boy seemed genuinely contrite and HRH accepted graciously.

Since that day, he and HRH have been seeking each other out to play; ball, tag, whatever. His name is Gabe.

And I'm pretty sure he's going to be an usher at HRH's wedding.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Please Stand for Our National Anthem


God bless my barista
Man that I love
Stand in line here
Get mine here

Day or night
Venti's right
Chai I love

From the drive thru
To the Target
Back to Starbucks
Light, no foam

God bless my barista
Live in
My home


**Originally posted last year, around this time. I unconsciously sing it almost every (day) time I head there. I'm thinking about the second verse. Any ideas??

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Do You Believe in Magic?

I could never have planned it this perfectly. It started completely innocently, with my sister dialing her pediatrician, who happens to share our area code and exchange, and accidentally calling us. HRH answered the phone and ended up chatting with my five-year-old nephew on speaker (HRH talks to everyone on speaker). Josh's first question was "Did you make a bed for your elf?", which was met with a resounding "huh?" from both boys.

Now our Elf on the Shelf has been residing in my glove compartment since I purchased him at Barnes and Noble last week. At first, I was trying to figure out how to introduce him, perhaps a letter? should he just show up? did the book seem a little cloying? Then, quite honestly, I simply forgot about him. But this? Kid-to-kid rumor transmission? Flawless! Auntie and I finally wrestled the phone away from the young 'uns and - still on speaker - we asked her a series of questions regarding the Elf's mythology:

The magic Elf is on recon, sent by Santa to monitor the behavior of boys and girls and report his findings back to The Big Man and Mrs. Claus.

Rule 1: You must prepare a bed for the Elf
Rule 2: Children must never touch the Elf
Rule 3: Children may speak to the Elf but only grown ups can hear him talk back
Rule 4: You adopt your Elf by naming him
Rule 5: The Elf returns to the North Pole each night to provide intel.
Rule 6: Each morning, you will most likely have to search for the Elf, who likes to hide, the little trickster.


We had just bought Gremlin a new pair of sneakers today and have a brand new, cozy shoe box that seems like a perfect Elf bed to me. Step One? Check! Next, we went up to the linen closet to find a nice, soft hand towel for a blanket. The first one I pulled out? Red with green piping and a big Santa appliqued on the front. Step Two? SCORE! We were so on our way!

Lastly, some concern has been expressed about Santa knowing that it was time to deploy the Elf. Through a follow-up phone call to Auntie, we learned that while she did indeed already have her Christmas tree, she felt sure that Santa, seeing the Christmas lights on our house would know we were preparing for Christmas, regardless of our tree status.

In addition to the bed, the boys have set aside cookies and a juice box, and queued up a movie - A Christmas Story - should the Elf wish to watch it. And just in case, instructions for operating the DVD player have been yelled out the back door. In a little less than an hour, Daddy will arrive home to find an Elf sitting on our stairs and will bring him inside, to meet the family.

I can hardly wait!!
 

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