How OCD Are You?

1. Your child comes downstairs after a bath dressed in a Star Wars pajama top and Super Mario bottoms. You:

a.) Don't notice.
b.) Note that Dad selected the pjs and shrug.  They're ready for bed so it's still a win.
c.) Remind yourself to take the 'matching' selections out of the rotation until the laundry catches up.

2. After placing your groceries in the back of your SUV, you note that the 'carriage corral' is overflowing with shopping carts.  You:

a.) Tuck the shopping cart between two cars and drive away.
b.) Park your cart behind the last in line, further blocking the driving lane
c.) Reorganize the carts so that each one tucks neatly into the one before it, freeing up valuable corral space.

3. Your husband loads the dishwasher.  You:

a.) Thank him profusely to encourage future behavior.
b.)  Move the taller glasses to the designated "taller glasses area," and mugs to the "mug area," remove the larger bowls to wash by hand, and arrange all plates according to size and type.
c.) Explain exactly what he did wrong and why. Are surprised and disappointed when he declines your offer for further dishwasher-loading instruction.

4. It is Christmas time.  This means:

a.) The correct order of tree decoration is: lights, garland, ornaments, tinsel, angel on top of the tree.
b.) A color-coded Excel spreadsheet listing recipient, gift, expected price, actual price, delta, percent complete, notes, and totals.
c.) Pulling out your wrapping paper caddy and wrapping each and every box in such a manner that you could easily land a job at Macy's.
d.) All of the above...

5. You're 7-months pregnant and moving into a new house.  To help, your sister unpacks all your pots and pans and arranges them in your new kitchen. You:

a.) Pledge your undying love to her.
b.) Recognize you might have arranged them differently but will leave them that way for now - fewer boxes to unload!
c.) Sit your gigantic pregnant ass on the kitchen floor and rearrange them according to size, type, and function. 

C
C
B
D
C

Yeah, it's that bad.  You think it's easy being anal?  How 'bout you?

Shiny, Happy People Holding Hands...

Have you "friended" any news outlets on Facebook?  If you haven't please do!  And be sure at least one of them is local.   One of my greatest pleasures these days is reading the comments - and comments on comments - posted by the jury of my peers currently populating my Facebook space.

So one of our local news stations (best known for their sensational journalism, hyperbole, and alliteration) posts this pretty dry, yet informative piece about Hurricane Earl:

Ladies and gentlemen, I present The People of Facebook:

You've got your Generic Likers

The Slightly Pissed Off

The I Told You So's

The Truly Pissed Off

The Attackers

The Defenders

The Rebutters

The Defenders - This time it's personal

The Random Hate Speakers

The Clairvoyant Grammarians

The English Teachers (okay, these are my people)

Think I'll stay on the right side of the law.  The jury pool's pretty shallow...

Let Me Hear Your War Cry!

What?  This stuff doesn't happen at your house??

Last week, I am awakened from blissful slumber in the middle of the night by the sound of my husband doing his best Braveheart immitation.  (I actually likened it to that scene in Return of the King when Aragorn says, "For Frodo,"  then runs headlong into a phalanx of Orcs at the Black Gate.  But I digresss....)

I go from sound asleep to still asleep but on my feet, running, and yelling "What? What?!" while following my husband, in full battle cry exiting our bedroom.  Here is his sequence of events:

0.0 microseconds - Andy awakens to the sound of HRH screaming. 

0.1 - Mind immediately processes "HRH is having a nightmare."

0.2  - Localizing sound...HRH is sleeping in Gremlin's room...sound not coming from Gremlin's room!

0.3 - Clearly, HRH is being dragged from the house by a kidnapper and is screaming in terror!

0.325 - Every microliter of adreneline empties into bloodstream.

0.4 - Eject from bed, issuing war cry to alert kidnapper to his approach with intent of kidnapper dropping HRH.

0.5 - Formulate plan while running down hall: Will bodily throw kidnapper down flight of stairs then land on top of him and proceed to pummel him until dead.


1.0 - Arrive at top of stairs where HRH is standing at the safety gate, alone, still asleep, and screaming.

1.5 - Processing...Child is not being kidnapped.  Child is sleepwalking, came up against the safety gate and could not compute.

2.0 - Hugging child. Adrenaline still flowing like oil into the Gulf.

2.5 - Second, totally confused child emerges from bedroom to find out what all the screaming is about.

3.0 - Still piecing it all together, Mommy ushers everyone toward our bedroom to calm everyone down, try to return to sleep mode.


3.5 - Best guess is Daddy will be prepared to sleep by Thursday.

WWSD - Dipshit Friday

I'm sharing a similar thought with Sarah, in her Trenches of Mommyhood, "If a blogger blogs but every other blogger is at BlogHer, will anyone read it?" 

So, as I sit in my kitchen *not* at a bar in NYC, I thought I'd live vicariously by linking to two of my favorite bloggers, one of whom (Sarah) is also *not* at BlogHer but with whom I have shared a drink, and one who is, Jean, Queen of Stimelyand, rodent aficionado, and friend with whom I had dinner at BlogHer '09. One of Jean's newest, funniest, and (IMHO) most brilliant ideas is Dipshit Friday, in which we lay it all out there and share one of life's blunders.  Shall we begin?

Every year, Andy's family plans a week together on Cape Cod.   Nearly every year, we have rented the same house. It's a lovely cottage with plenty of private space for us, the boys, and my mom, who enjoys her own little suite on the first floor away from the chaos that is my immediate family.  One of its best features is a gorgeous deck right off of our 2nd floor bedroom, with a fantastic view of the beach from the side and the river and salt marshes in the back. The Cape tradition started when everyone was in town for Andy's and my wedding, 10 years ago and subsequently, our anniversary frequently falls during our vacation week. 

A few years back, my mom kept the kids so Andy and I could enjoy a nice anniversary dinner, which we did along with a bottle of wine.  Upon returning to the house, we decided to share a romantic drink on the deck, in the moonlight.  Things progressed nicely and maybe a half hour later, Andy and I reentered our bedroom through the open door to (ahem) continue celebrating our anniversary only to find....every surface of the room covered with flying bugs of every description!

For the next hour, we two dipshits jumped across the bed, swinging beach towels, ducking dive-bombing mosquitoes, itching like mad, and spraying anything aerosol at the disgusting (and quite resilient) creatures.  Let's just say that the mood died long before the last of the bugs did and I left Andy to fight the good fight, choosing to sleep on the family room couch.

I was awakened the next morning by my rather confused but smiling mother who admitted that, judging by the racket coming from the ceiling of her bedroom, it definitely sounded as if we had very much enjoyed our anniversary...

The June Cleaver Response

We've all been on the phone with someone and either you or they say "well, I'd better let you go now" when in reality, it's the person saying it who actually wants to get off the phone.  The little trigger in our heads that makes us say that is "The Politeness Filter".  Scientists have recently discovered a correlating filter that operates in the Mommy Brain.  For our purposes, we'll call it "The June Cleaver Response" or JCR.

Much in the same way the Politeness Filter helps us more easily move through society, the JCR helps us navigate the waters of parenthood in such a way that future therapy bills are kept to a minimum, also allowing us stay well below the radar of Child Protective Services.  Below are a few examples of the JCR in action:

Situation 1: Children milling around the room, underfoot, standing directly in front of exactly where you need to be.
Unfiltered Brain: Get the hell out of the kitchen!!
JCR: Why don't you guys play in the other room?

Situation 2: Child tattling on sibling.
Unfiltered Brain: I don't care!  Just make it stop!
JCR:  Why don't you guys try to work it out yourselves?

Situation 3: Child prattling on unceasingly until you want to stick needles in your eyes.
Unfiltered Brain: Shut up! Shut the f&#k up!!!
JCR:  Sweetie, why don't you rest your voice for a little while?
Note: In the car this translates as: Let's play "who can be quietest the longest?"!

Situation 4: Anything involving food
Unfiltered Brain: For the millionth time, stop eating like a cow!
JCR: Honey, remember to chew with your mouth closed.

Situation 5: Child up for the 3rd/8th/11th time after being put back to bed.
Unfiltered Brain: I don't care if you sleep or not.  Stay in that bed before I tie you to it!
JCR: Just lie in bed and think about all the fun things you'd like to do tomorrow...

Situations 6 through infinity: (fill in the blank)
Unfiltered Brain:  Are you insane? What were you thinking!?
JCR: Buddy, that wasn't a good choice.

Our research would be greatly enhanced by additional examples provided by the reader.


* Apparently the unfiltered brain is quite profane when left to its own devices.

** This post is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to actual persons, blogging or deceased is purely coincidental. 

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing

Copied verbatim from Selfish Mom. Please take a minute to read this.  Then take another to copy and paste (AND SEND) Amy's well-written email and sign your own name.

Nothing good ever comes from me checking CNN before bed.  It’s usually my last stop, just to see what stupid thing Biden did or which vapid celebs are getting divorced.  But tonight it was this, about a mother of two who has been in prison in Iran for five years charged with adultery, who may be stoned to death at any time.

I’m on vacation and exhausted and have to get up early and don’t know what to say about this that isn’t already blatantly obvious to anyone with half a brain.  It would be easy to just read about this impending atrocity and feel bad for a few minutes and then move on, feeling helpless.  And really, there may be nothing to be done.  But it’s worth a try.  This site suggests sending an email to Navi Pillay, UN High Commissioner for the Office of Human Rights.  Then tell your friends to send an email, and tell them to tell their friends.  Tweet it, Facebook, blog it, email it.  Iran is not completely immune to international pressure, so you never know.

Here’s my letter, use it or write your own.

Dear Ms. Pillay,

I am writing to you because I just read about the case of Sakine Mohammadi e Ashtiani, who is waiting in prison in Iran to be stoned to death.  While I know that there are many different views in the world about the death penalty that can be debated, I refuse to believe that anyone of any sense would think it anything less than barbaric to kill someone because of an alleged adultery, or to kill someone in such a horrible and tortuous way as stoning no matter what the crime.

I urge you to do whatever is in your power to pressure Iran to reverse this woman’s sentence and let her go free to return to her children, who have been without their mother for five years.  I cannot imagine why a group like the UN exists if not for this. If there is nothing that the UN can do about this – or if the UN is unwilling to try to intervene – then you should all pack your bags and go home.

Thanks,
Amy XXX
SelfishMom.com
FilmingInBrooklyn.com
Momtourage.com

I’m off to try to get some sleep, and hope that my dreams don’t include being buried up to my neck and having stones hurled at my head until my skull fractures and I die.

Thank you for posting, Amy.  I'm sending my email now. We're all in this together.

Lately, It Really Feels a Lot Like Rome is Burning

File it under "For Future Reference"

For future reference:

- Poison Control cannot answer questions related to a 20-pound dog swallowing one Advil Liqui-Gel.

- Poison Control does provide the toll-free number to Animal Poison Control.

- That number is 1-888-426-4435.

- The consultation fee to speak with Animal Poison Control is $65.00 payable by credit card.

- If your 20-pound dog swallows one Advil Liqui-Gel, she may experience vomiting and diarrhea but probably won't die.

- The treatment for 20-pound dogs who swallow Advil is 0.5 mg Pepcid AC (Famotidine) once a day for 5-7 days.

- If your 20-pound dog who swallowed an Advil is micro-chipped through Home Again and you have full coverage, the $65.00 consultation fee is covered.

- Dogs who swallow Advil and run the risk of experiencing vomiting and diarrhea will be sleeping in the kitchen overnight.

Can I Get An "Oh, poor baby..."?

What Hurts When You have a Sinus Infection:

• Hot liquids
• Cold liquids
• Luke warm liquids
• Brushing your teeth 
• Mint tooth paste
• Trying to rinse mint toothpaste out of your mouth because it hurts
• Chewing
• The sensation of having your teeth pushed out from the inside
• Standing up
• Lying down
• Trying to sleep sitting up
• Sleep deprivation
• Focusing
• Swallowing horse pill-sized antibiotics 
• Stomach from antibiotics
• Stomach from ingesting copious amounts of Advil
• Touching your face
• Loud noises
• Bright lights
• Eyebrows
• Cheekbone
• Sensation of someone trying to push your eye out through the socket
• Your cheek resting against your jaw
• Puffing out your cheek so it doesn't rest against your jaw
• Hot food
• Cold food
• Ears
• Breathing through your mouth

What Doesn't Hurt When You Have a Sinus Infection:

• Standing under a hot shower with water beating on your face.

Perhaps They Could Try Meditation?

Dear Skanks,

Thank you so much for disrupting my yoga class this morning by choosing that spot directly outside of the aerobics studio door to have your screaming fight. It was bad enough when I believed that you were fellow gym-goers. Imagine my surprise to learn that you were not members but rather employees. Also, kudos on your weapon choices in your verbal sparring. "oh yeah" and "who do you think you're talking to" are indeed fighting words worthy of losing your jobs.

We are not a fancy gym (clearly). Our membership is largely mommies looking to lose baby weight and college kids. At the same time, we are thankfully not peopled by muscle-heads in workboots or (I thought) classless bitches waiting to gouge each other's eyes out.

I'm sure gym sales people such as yourselves will find no trouble finding work in this economy. Good luck in unemployment! Maybe you can each find a nice guy on permanent disability from a "back injury" incurred while loading trucks.

Only Four Days Old and Already 2010 is a Disappointment

Scene: In the car on the way home from first day back to school.

HRH: Jade and Sean got to stay up to see the ball drop.

Manic Mommy: Really? Do you know what that is? I can show it to you on the computer when we get home.

Home and settled, MM clicks over to YouTube searching "Ball Drop, Times Sq, New Year's Eve". Voila!

MM: Hey guys! Come watch the ball drop!

(watching Dick Clark, Ryan Seacrest, et al., hugging)

HRH: So? When does it drop?!

Gremlin: What does it break?!

MM: It doesn't really "drop," it just sort of slides down a pole and lights up.

Gremlin: It doesn't drop on anything?

MM: Um, no. That's just one of the ways we celebrate the new year here in America. You see, we --

Boys depart kitchen, eyes rolling.


Better luck next year, guys.

Wordless Wednesday - Girl, You Won't be a Woman Soon

Sentenced to two weeks in the Cone (of silence) for a radical hysterectomy she neither requested nor knew was coming.

Welcome to responsible pet ownership, baby girl.

About Last Night...

Gremlin to Night Terror

Daddy to Gremlin
Manic Mommy to Gremlin

Daddy to Kitchen for drink(s)

HRH (camping on Gremlin's floor) to Mommy and Daddy's bed
Cat to Mommy and Daddy's bed

Mommy and Gremlin to Potty

Daddy to Bed

Gremlin to Bed

Mommy to M&D Bed to retrieve HRH
HRH to Campsite
Cat to Hallway
HRH to own bed to be with cat
Cat to Bathroom Sink for drink

Mommy to Downstairs to retrieve Dog
Mommy and Dog to Crate in M&D Room
Mommy to Downstairs to lock up
Mommy to Downstairs for water
Mommy and Cat to HRH's Room

Mommy to Bathroom
Mommy to Gremlin's Room for last check

Mommy to BED.


* With a shout out to the inimitable Holly at June Cleaver Nirvana and her animated life. As I was going about this business last night, I could only think of diagramming it.

Peeps, in the Big Wide World

Day 793 of summer vacation: We are meeting my sister and her three youngest at The Children's Museum in Boston around noon to see the Peep in the Big Wide World Exhibit. She has already fed her kids. I have not. The plan is that I will grab lunch for them at the Au Bon Pain downstairs then meet her in about 15-20 minutes.

I am delighted that the boys can have mac n cheese and chicken nuggets at this particular Au Bon Pain while I can eat a decent salad and iced tea. We join the sea of humanity attempting to order and retrieve food, cafeteria-style. Did I mention it was noon? While balancing our lunch and keeping track of the two boys, we search for a seat. Uh, not happening. Looks like dining al fresco in the 90 degree/90% humidity heat! No tables outside either, but there's a little wall surrounding a tree that I've got my eye on.

Just as we settle down and I arrange our food on the makeshift table, Gremlin begins the pee-pee dance. My response? "No. Tell your peeps to wait." I don't know where the bathrooms are, there are hoards of people everywhere, there is no strategically placed copse of trees, and we have not yet begun to eat. Also, we just left the house a half hour ago where I assure you, I asked him repeatedly if he had to go before we left. At least I think I did. I mean, I always do...

You can know what happens next. Gremlin has an accident. Pees all over his pants, all over his shirt (wtf?), down his legs and into his socks and sneakers. Luckily, he is unfazed. I apologize for not believing the urgency of the situation, shovel down a little more of my salad, and contemplate our options.

Half an hour later, we're heading for (more) Peep. Gremlin is the proud owner of a $17.00 Children's Musuem t-shirt, we've walked back to the parking garage where (messy car pays off!) I find a bathing suit (HRH's) and a pair of his Keens. Oh, and I scrubbed him up as best I could.

To Whom It May Concern - Volume 2

Dear Macy's/Clinique Quality Control:

Fail.

Apropos of Nothing

Daddy: Boys, do you want something to drink?

HRH: Orange juice, with ice, no water, no mix.

MM: HRH, you'll make yourself a fine Starbucks patron some day.

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

From the backseat:

Gremlin: This is why the Grinch stole Christmas.

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

Andy: Are you planning on bringing your laptop to Disney?

MM: I was considering it. What do you think?

Andy: Well, you tend not to care about people when you're with the laptop.

MM: No, you've got it all wrong. I care about lots of people when I'm on the laptop.

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

And with that, I bid you all a fond adieu until next week.

To-Worry List

Am I consistent enough?
Am I impatient?
Am I kind enough to myself?
Am I strict enough?
Am I taking myself too seriously?
Am I taking them too seriously?
Am I too hard on myself?
Am I too hard on them?
Am I too strict?
Are they developing friendships the way they should?
Are they happy?
Are they spoiled?
Are they too physical?
Did I read to HRH more than I read to Gremlin?
Do I change their sheets often enough?
Do I expect too little of them?
Do I expect too much from Andy?
Do I expect too much of them?
Do I expect too much of them?
Do I show enough patience?
Do I spend too much time on the computer?
Do I worry too much about how others perceive us?
Do I yell too much?
Do they eat enough vegetables?
Do they fight too much?
Do they have enough alone time with us?
Do they realize how much they are loved?
Do they spend enough time with Daddy?
Do they spend too much time on the computer/video game?
Do they watch too much TV?
Do we have enough rules?
Do we model behavior correctly?
Have I established clear behavioral guidelines?
He doesn't know all his letters, HRH did at this age.
How do I teach them empathy?
Is he too sensitive?
Should I force him to give up the pacifier?
Should I give them chores?
Should I give them vitamins?
Should we teach them more about religion?
What do I do when I reach the end of my rope?
What do their teachers think of me?
Why can't he play independently?
Why can't I admit I need help?
Why do I feel like I've failed if I get help?
Why do other moms seem to have it more together than me?
Why is this so hard?

Now what?

WTF Wednesday II

Big Puddle + Big Boy Bike = Yet More Laundry (and one ecstatic boy)

Life - A Snapshot

Background:

HRH's class has been given a few disposable cameras and an assignment to take pictures of their house, neighborhood, favorite room, family, etc. HRH is the last in the class to take the camera home. There were about seven or eight pictures left.

Scene:

Manic Mommy stepping out of the shower, naked as the day she was born (clearly, you can already see where this is headed).

A knock on the door.

RC enters carrying disposable camera that is part of HRH's homework.

RC: I just want to take one picture.

MM (mirror strategically behind her, of course) simultaneously reaches for a towel and the camera. Screeches: NOOOOO!!! Don't take the picture!!

Options:

1. Run camera over with newly-repaired truck.

2. Develop all pictures to determine if nudie pic of naked mommy was, in fact taken. Also to be taken into consideration: person working the photo desk at Target.

3. Hand the camera back to kindergarten teacher and hope for the best.

Potty Mouth

Psst, Clorox:

Wanna make a mint? Invent a non-toxic, drinkable bleach product. And here's why:

Item 1: We are at my sister's house and RC has just completed his first successful peep of the new potty-training season. Manic Mommy is at the sink washing her hands after assisting with said endeavor. RC spies the plunger parked next to Auntie's toilet. Before MM can reach him/screech loud enough to wake the dead, RC has upended the plumber's helper and licks. it. Various washing and rinsing ensues. But where's the bleach?

Item 2: First Day of preschool. Andy has taken the day off to accompany RC to orientation while MM attends HRH's Welcome Mass. After we pick up HRH, we take the boys to Friendly's for an ice cream. Except for RC, we each order what turns out to be a pretty meager portion and consequently begin taking little bites from RC's massive make-your-own-sundae.

It is with the taste of hot fudge and Reeses Pieces still upon my tongue that Andy suddenly remembers the men's room incident that had taken place not ten minutes earlier:

RC is standing in front of the toilet having already fondled caressed lifted the toilet seat and is attempting to simultaneously hold the seat up, keep his shirt tucked under his chin, and aim. He is one hand short, and so, he leans forward and places the edge of the toilet seat between his lips to hold it up and proceeds to urinate.

Andy acted fast but of course, the damage was already done. He proceeded to make RC rinse his mouth out and wash his face/lips/hands with Friendly soap. But again, where's the bleach?

Did I mention that I was eating RC's ice cream as the story unfolded? What's a mom to do? I buy fluoride-free toothpaste for him because that's dangerous if ingested. How about the most germ-laden surfaces know to mom?

Please tell me your worst. Am I the only mother with a really, gross little kid?Let me know that his immune system is strong enough to handle it - and that it. will. stop.

Sincerely,

Manic Germaphobe Mommy