Monday, June 23, 2008

Deep thoughts.

I'm fresh (well, sort of) off of vacation. And I'm left with those thoughts of returning to work . . not with fresh wind, deep breath, renewed spirit .. . ready to tackle it all, but with thoughts of woe and ugh. I spent the last two days of my, er, v-a-c-a-t-i-o-n being contemplative and stressed out about the departure of my biz partner on her v-word (not vagina.)

We have a big thing. This business-slash-work thing that we've built, coddled, nurtured, created over the last several years. And when she's gone . . . there is a tremendous amount of pressure, strain and stress knowing that I'm the lone captain of our boat. I'm certain she feels the same way, too. Resolution number 1: Work smarter, not harder. Find qualified personnel and teach them how to drive the boat.

Yeah, so . . . my second moment of clarity was a marvel and the marvel inside the thought ... . 'wow, it's interesting how much this job/position/business has come to define me. I would, honestly, from the very bottom of my butt, be in a completely different place -- both with my life and my outlook were I not running this enterprise from home. How would I be different? What would I do? What would define me, if I wasn't so defined by THIS?

Hmm. See, deep thoughts from my shallow mind.

So, here is my absolute dream-job:

I was at the pediatricians office recently (yea, I make visits every few weeks just to make a co-pay and make certain the office could operate, if needed, without my patronage). I picked up "Wondertime". It's a mom-utopia magazine. Where all the articles are about great moms who are patient and kind and stepford-ish . . . those with aprons tied around their waists . . . they do crafts and spend hours trying to trick their youngsters into eating a "very delicicous" cookie make with cauliflower puree (urp). Anyhoo . . . . "confessions of a mommy blogger" spoke to me, called to me ... . hollered from the vomit stained, mauve seats of the waiting area. Seriously, Catherine Newman . .. is a mom .. . she writes a blog for Wondertime. Now THAT is a cool frickin' job. That is a damn cool job. And her article was right on the money. Amazing. Read: "Blogging is narcissistic - and time-consuming. It gives strangers (not to mention the in-laws) ammunition for criticizing our parenting choices. And one day, it could REALLY mortify our kids. Here's why we do it anyway."

Check her weekly contributions out here: http://wondertime.go.com/

It's worth reading . . . and it's my dream job. Cool, cool, cool . . . And she's witty and warm and wonderful . . and I'll probably quote her for blogs to come . . .

"The only people who stalk me wear dirty nursing bras and mashed yams. They are, in other words, my people."

The bad news is that a week post-vacation and into the daily grind, I've yet to find a way to integrate the business that defines me (at least in part .. . let's just succumb to it and stop denying) . . . with the perfectness of getting paid to write a mommy-blog. Can anyone out there help me??

"Give me your nose!"


Do you think this haircut makes me look . . . um . . more mischevious?


This is my ouchie.

For the sake of clarity . . . . and in a day and age where parents are being arrested for taking pictures of their own kids' INNOCENT naked bums . . . . I feel like I have to explain that he did have a GREAT big ouchie on his finger. It was a long cardboard papercut that required days of bandaids and doctoring . . . . but I honestly could NOT resist snapping this shot (mostly for the expression on his face) everytime he said, "look at my ouchie. It's getting better!!"

I AM having a good hair day!!


Tuesday, June 17, 2008

She's about as big as the dog.


He's 15 pounds . . she's 15 pounds . .
He's 25 inches . . . she's 25 inches . . .
When she cries . . . he howls . . .
When she's on the floor . . . he sits next to her . . .
When she's in the high chair . . . he sits next to her . . (waiting for cheerios, of course, but play along with me . . )
When she's in the saucer . . he's right next to her . . .
When she goes to bed in her crib . . . he goes to bed in his doggie bed (which is right next to the crib) . . .
They love each other.
This dog, my Zee-Zee-Boy . . is now 10 years old. He's been through 4 babies, countless babysitting ventures, serial back pain, two moves, one cat, 4 birds . . . bunnies, snakes, gardening and the like. He's such a good boy. He's the ultimate baby monitor. He never snaps, never growls at them . . he naturally herds babies away from steps and out of water bowls. He's the reason families have "family dogs". I'd venture to guess he has saved each child from major accident at least once.
Woof.

The Little Man

Happy, happy, happy. I wish I could freeze these moments forever. He's so happy, so smart, so innocent. Today, after swimming lessons, we picked (oops) a family changing room with a slow drain . . . . so as they were all in there showering and cleaning up, I heard the boy singing this song . . . "I'm sitting in my pee . . I'm happy as can be."

The Middle One

Is this the face of an imp, or what? Vacation took us to one hell of a Mexican restaurant, where they give out lumps of tortilla dough to occupy the youngin's while the food is prepared to order. She promptly rolled all of her crayons up in it and pretended to eat it . . but hey, the plan worked .. . it kept her busy!

On a separate note .. . holy cow . . . y'all should see her play ball. She's about, um 4 inches tall . . . and when she hunkers down at the plate to bat, her strike zone -- well, let's just say she's pretty damn hard to pitch to ! She can hit . . . she can field . . she runs with flames bursting off the back of her cleats! She's so fun to watch!!!

New Pix for my new fan in Arizona . . .

Summer rays are a friend to this child. Her hair gets those beautiful streaks that adult women pay so dearly for. Her skin glows, her teeth appear to be blindingly white. Her eyes look green, and she simply glows.

Friday, June 06, 2008

The Price of Gas . . .

I know . . . . I know . . I've been walking too. And, we just traded in my Durango for a (hopefully) more fuel efficent ride. If not fuel efficient, it sure is pretty and has nice whistles & bells. But, get a load of this, if priced per gallon, here's what we'd be shellin' out for . . .

Diet Snapple, 16 oz, $1.29 ... $10.32 per gallon!
Lipton Ice Tea, 16 oz, $1.19 ... $9.52 per gallon!
Gatorade, 20 oz, $1.59 ..... $10.17 per gallon!
Ocean Spray, 16 oz, $1.25 .. $10.00 per gallon!
Brake Fluid, 12 oz, $3.15 .... $33.60 per gallon!
Vick's Nyquil, 6 oz, $8.35 ... $178.13 per gallon!
Pepto Bismol, 4 oz, $3.85 . $123.20 per gallon!
Whiteout, 7 oz, $1.39 ......... $25.42 per gallon!
Scope, 1.5 oz, $0.99 .....$84.48 per gallon!
Evian water, 9 oz, $1.49 ...$21.19 per gallon!
Computer ink . . . $5200 A GALLON!!!

So, the next time you're at the pump, be glad your car doesn't run on water, Scope, Whiteout, Pepto Bismol, Nyquil or, God forbid, Printer Ink!!!!!

I don't have anything to say

Can you belive it . . I don't have anything to say.

Well, that's not entirely true. But I'm trying to adhere to "if you don't have something NICE to say, then don't say anything at all."

I do have a few things to SAY (in a list, because that's how I think):

a. In 3 hours, my "vacation" starts. This year, MOTH and I planned concurrent vacations. During our vacation . . . I'm certain he won't be able to pull himself away from his cell phone, and I'll be virtually connected to email. Our plans for getaway have been foiled by the softball season . . .and we've effectively booked all the crap we couldn't otherwise get done, to happen on "vacation" . . . Tinky has a well baby visit, the dogs go to the vet, the big kids all start swimming (that's 4 days) and softball has 3 nights taken up. We also have to take the new car in for a dent removal. We've promised to go to a cooking table and to Fargo's . . And the zoo. And there you have it . . VACATION.
b. Work is busy as hell. Working when it's busy as hell . . . sucks. I'd rather play with my kids.
c. Fifth's Disease. Heard of it? Sounds horrible, huh . .. sounds deadly . . . sounds morbid. My kids have it . . . Started with the Big one the week school let out. Now Middle & Little have it too. It needs a new name. It's not a disease. Hasn't slowed them down a bit . . it's just a bit of a rash.
d. Still love that Dyson. Good Lord. Everyone go buy a Dyson. It's housecleaning-ly orgasmic.
e. Tinky sits now. She's a sittin-up girl. She's also discovered her hands. She grabs anything free and throws it down. I love this stage. It makes you realize how close to other people's bubbles you've ventured. Cuz, if I'm wearning Tinky and she can grab the pen out of your pocket, I'm too damn close.
f. Ok, I'm to the place on my list where bad things will start croppig up, so I quit . . .

xoxoxo to you all . .
happy tanning oil