I just got off the phone with one of the SAHMs that I sometimes hang out with. For the most part I like her- she and I have some of the same basic philosophies, however she is one of those moms who plans to NEVER go back to work EVER (which, while I try not to judge, seriously? what is her life going to be when she is 50?). I find her a little judgmental- she makes it quite clear when she does not agree with my parenting- but who isn't really? She is also kind of boring- like tapioca pudding. There is not much you can add to it to spice it up, and it isn't bad, sometimes you just aren't in the mood. Our kids are the same age so we have spent quite a bit of time together, but as they get older Abby isn't interested in her daughter (who is kind of mean in a somewhat innocent way, as well as very competitive with Abby for some reason) and I have been finding myself avoiding playdates with them lately.
Se we were just talking about the recent drama our school district has faced. We ahve elected some new board members which has led old ones to retire, and we are getting a new superintendent. Last week we got an automated call from the current superintendent announcing that the incoming superintendent has received a DUI, and that her future employment is under review. Later this weekend we got another call saying that she has resigned and the search for a new superintendent is on. So we were talking about this and I made the comment that it wasn't like she was a pedophile or anything, and that while this DUI is bad, I think the woman should be given the benefit of the doubt until it is decided if she will be convicted of it or not (she is pleading not guilty). This led to the most insane tongue lashing I have ever received. She went on and on about how permissive I am and that I may have lower expectations for the education of my kids, but she didn't. It then went into this whole thing about how she went to Northwestern and that education was valued in her home and was not trusted to someone who would make such a bad decision to drink and drive. When I tried to defend myself she called me irresponsible and said that she couldn't believe that I was pro-DUI. What?!
I ended the conversation by basically pinching Nora and telling her I had to go and "poorly parent" my kid, but now I am dreading seeing her this afternoon when I pick Abby up from Daisy Scouts. What od I do here? Do I go off the next time I see her? Do I send her an email telling her that she is insane? Do I just ignore her attack? Thoughts?
Monday, May 18, 2009
Saturday, May 02, 2009
Defending the Caveman
I find it difficult to blog about my spouse without making him sound like a total asshole. And I guess if he sounds like an asshole, he kind of is one, but I think that is more a product of his upbringing than anything else. Seeing as he was raised as the only son of two of the most selfish, dysfunctional, ridiculous beings in the universe (I believe this is a documented fact somewhere) he really had no hope from the get go.
As I raise my kids, I often feel like I am raising my husband as well. He is currently struggling with the idea that he is not the only person of importance in our household, and this is hard for him. Cases and points:
On our recent family vacation he had a mojito induced temper tantrum about how he feels that my sister is more important than he is (I told you about this, right?). And the truth is that she is not MORE important than he is, she is EQUALLY as important as he is- a hard pill for him to swallow seeing as he is used to being Simba.
I was recently approached about a part time job working three days a week for the company I have worked at for years. This is a big decision seeing as it will shift our family dynamic quite a bit. When I first brought it up he kept telling me that it wasn't the time to talk about it (keep in mind my kids were with my mother in law and there were no other distractions at the time) and that we would have to talk about it later. When push came to shove and I had to give my boss an answer I was forced to corner spouse with the question "are you willing to help pick up the slack of me going back to work?". The answer was quite disappointing. I won't go into detail (I don't want you to totally hate him before you meet him), but you can assume that it was close to 'no', maybe even a 'hell no'. When he asked me why I was still sulking days later and I recapped our talk he had little recollection of it. This leads me to believe what I have known all along, his mouth and brain do not act together, and if they do then it is the result of them marinating on what to say rather than just saying whatever self centered idiotic thing that first pops into his head.
We have this stupid red Jeep that is parked in front of the entrance to our back yard from our garage. When I asked if it could move to a more inoffensive location, like into the garage his response was something about how the garage was for his car and I could just move the Jeep when I needed to get into the back yard. yeah, it is so fun and easy to back a car out every time the kids want to play in the yard.
And don't even get me started on the what is for dinner conversation. This is not a cruise ship. You don't get home in time for the only seating you are on your own. Eat what is here, scramble an egg, do something, I don't care. Just don't ask me at 9:30 at night if I am going to "make dinner" seeing as I have already done so for the other 3/4 of the family, leaving more than enough for you. And yes, shells and cheese is in fact a meal. Don't like it? Then take you happy ass to the grocery store, buy what you want (hell, just give me an idea when I say "I am going to the grocery store- is there anything you want?") and make it yo' damn self.
Despite his short comings, we had an excellent talk the other night about Mother's Day. Usually I get stuck having to do something with his mom that takes the better part of a day and is really quite annoying. She has to insert herself in whatever I do with my mom, as well as be carted around on a pillow all day being honored because, after all, she is the mother of Simba (and we wonder how Tim ended up with the worst case of Only Child Syndrome EVER). She usually wants to go buy flowers for her pots then watch me plant them, then complain that we didn't get enough/got too much/the colors don't match the pots and so on. All while she feeds my kids candy then yells at them not to run around.
I told Tim that this year, I was out. My mom will be out of town, and I will do nothing more than buy his mom some crappy Hallmark card (that I will have to recycle when she dies seeing as she saves every. single. card. ever given to her). His response was "Ok, the girls and I will take her to brunch/lunch/whatever and you can stay home". Really, I don't have to hold court with her?
Sometimes I remember why I married him.
As I raise my kids, I often feel like I am raising my husband as well. He is currently struggling with the idea that he is not the only person of importance in our household, and this is hard for him. Cases and points:
On our recent family vacation he had a mojito induced temper tantrum about how he feels that my sister is more important than he is (I told you about this, right?). And the truth is that she is not MORE important than he is, she is EQUALLY as important as he is- a hard pill for him to swallow seeing as he is used to being Simba.
I was recently approached about a part time job working three days a week for the company I have worked at for years. This is a big decision seeing as it will shift our family dynamic quite a bit. When I first brought it up he kept telling me that it wasn't the time to talk about it (keep in mind my kids were with my mother in law and there were no other distractions at the time) and that we would have to talk about it later. When push came to shove and I had to give my boss an answer I was forced to corner spouse with the question "are you willing to help pick up the slack of me going back to work?". The answer was quite disappointing. I won't go into detail (I don't want you to totally hate him before you meet him), but you can assume that it was close to 'no', maybe even a 'hell no'. When he asked me why I was still sulking days later and I recapped our talk he had little recollection of it. This leads me to believe what I have known all along, his mouth and brain do not act together, and if they do then it is the result of them marinating on what to say rather than just saying whatever self centered idiotic thing that first pops into his head.
We have this stupid red Jeep that is parked in front of the entrance to our back yard from our garage. When I asked if it could move to a more inoffensive location, like into the garage his response was something about how the garage was for his car and I could just move the Jeep when I needed to get into the back yard. yeah, it is so fun and easy to back a car out every time the kids want to play in the yard.
And don't even get me started on the what is for dinner conversation. This is not a cruise ship. You don't get home in time for the only seating you are on your own. Eat what is here, scramble an egg, do something, I don't care. Just don't ask me at 9:30 at night if I am going to "make dinner" seeing as I have already done so for the other 3/4 of the family, leaving more than enough for you. And yes, shells and cheese is in fact a meal. Don't like it? Then take you happy ass to the grocery store, buy what you want (hell, just give me an idea when I say "I am going to the grocery store- is there anything you want?") and make it yo' damn self.
Despite his short comings, we had an excellent talk the other night about Mother's Day. Usually I get stuck having to do something with his mom that takes the better part of a day and is really quite annoying. She has to insert herself in whatever I do with my mom, as well as be carted around on a pillow all day being honored because, after all, she is the mother of Simba (and we wonder how Tim ended up with the worst case of Only Child Syndrome EVER). She usually wants to go buy flowers for her pots then watch me plant them, then complain that we didn't get enough/got too much/the colors don't match the pots and so on. All while she feeds my kids candy then yells at them not to run around.
I told Tim that this year, I was out. My mom will be out of town, and I will do nothing more than buy his mom some crappy Hallmark card (that I will have to recycle when she dies seeing as she saves every. single. card. ever given to her). His response was "Ok, the girls and I will take her to brunch/lunch/whatever and you can stay home". Really, I don't have to hold court with her?
Sometimes I remember why I married him.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Unhealthy Obsession
(Blogging twice in 24 hours- who am I? What is next going to Blogher and publishing a book? Probably not...)
I have many unhealthy habits- nail biting, wine,candy, as well as an unquenchable interest in pop culture. I think the fascination with celebrities is unnecessary, but that does not stop me from logging onto Perezhilton 10 times a day to see what everyone is up to. I draw the line at anything supported by TMZ, however, because I feel that they are a bit too intrusive (I do love the thing they have of Deepak Chopra saying that if he married Oprah she would be Oprah Chopra which still makes me giggle). Anyway, while I feel that the famous still deserve privacy I am sickly fascinated by things like the Real Housewives.
My obsession du jour, however, is starting to get a little out of hand according to my husband. My interest in all things Zac Efron (including lengthy monologues about his career trajectory) is starting to bug Tim and I am wondering if it is bordering on being as unhealthy as my interest in eating Easter candy rather than actual meals. It is no secret that this house is all about High School Musical. We resisted the franchise until Abby and I went to see #3, and while that was all that was allowed for a while we have since broken down and committed ourselves to being those people who can sing along with every single song from every single movie. That is fine- we are in the Disney machine, but my affair with Mah Boo (I am stealing Michael K's name for Anderson Cooper) has really blossomed since I Netflixed Hairspray (side note- we need to talk about all the nouns/brand names that have become verbs lately- Netflix, Google, etc. I am a big offender on this one). He has this weird little twitchy wink thing that he does that makes me think he might be able to act, and from the few interviews I have seen he is not a total moron. The fact that he is pretty doesn't hurt either.
So why am I an 11 year old girl about this? Tim is worried that I am going to start plastering our walls with Troy posters that I am going to start signing things like our taxes with his last name. Neither will happen, but I will still continue to worry about his career more than I worry about going to the grocery store.
I have many unhealthy habits- nail biting, wine,candy, as well as an unquenchable interest in pop culture. I think the fascination with celebrities is unnecessary, but that does not stop me from logging onto Perezhilton 10 times a day to see what everyone is up to. I draw the line at anything supported by TMZ, however, because I feel that they are a bit too intrusive (I do love the thing they have of Deepak Chopra saying that if he married Oprah she would be Oprah Chopra which still makes me giggle). Anyway, while I feel that the famous still deserve privacy I am sickly fascinated by things like the Real Housewives.
My obsession du jour, however, is starting to get a little out of hand according to my husband. My interest in all things Zac Efron (including lengthy monologues about his career trajectory) is starting to bug Tim and I am wondering if it is bordering on being as unhealthy as my interest in eating Easter candy rather than actual meals. It is no secret that this house is all about High School Musical. We resisted the franchise until Abby and I went to see #3, and while that was all that was allowed for a while we have since broken down and committed ourselves to being those people who can sing along with every single song from every single movie. That is fine- we are in the Disney machine, but my affair with Mah Boo (I am stealing Michael K's name for Anderson Cooper) has really blossomed since I Netflixed Hairspray (side note- we need to talk about all the nouns/brand names that have become verbs lately- Netflix, Google, etc. I am a big offender on this one). He has this weird little twitchy wink thing that he does that makes me think he might be able to act, and from the few interviews I have seen he is not a total moron. The fact that he is pretty doesn't hurt either.
So why am I an 11 year old girl about this? Tim is worried that I am going to start plastering our walls with Troy posters that I am going to start signing things like our taxes with his last name. Neither will happen, but I will still continue to worry about his career more than I worry about going to the grocery store.
Monday, April 13, 2009
A Message from the President....
Right now I should be writing a thing to put in the program of this women's group that I am the president of. There are many reasons why I am not doing that right now, the primary one is that I just don't fucking feel like spewing a bunch of bullshit all over my computer right now. If I were to write exactly what I thought it would go something like this:
Thank you all for coming and supporting the _______ scholarship recipients tonight!
It has been another year with the same old group of hens who have so little in their lives that they worry about every incessant detail of this nonsense way too much. Being president of this group has been an albatross that I am thrilled to be ridding myself of in a few short weeks. While I appreciate what we do here as something good to keep people interested in the greek system, I pretty much can't stand being in the same room with most of you (you know who you are), and I am disappointed that we have decided to take our big fundraising event to the trailer park next year with a fashion show from the Dress Barn. (what Wal Mart wasn't available?)
I am sad that we lost a member to cervical cancer this year, and I really appreciated that you all were assholes about the whole thing. Don't worry, we got the binder back.
Hope you all had fun- I know that you are just as excited as I am that I will not be presiding over meetings next year!
Kisses!
Yeah, that is so not going in the program.
I feel badly that I am this unpleasant about the whole thing, but whatever. They did not elect me to this office, and it has been something that I have had to endure just as much as they have. Whatever....
Thank you all for coming and supporting the _______ scholarship recipients tonight!
It has been another year with the same old group of hens who have so little in their lives that they worry about every incessant detail of this nonsense way too much. Being president of this group has been an albatross that I am thrilled to be ridding myself of in a few short weeks. While I appreciate what we do here as something good to keep people interested in the greek system, I pretty much can't stand being in the same room with most of you (you know who you are), and I am disappointed that we have decided to take our big fundraising event to the trailer park next year with a fashion show from the Dress Barn. (what Wal Mart wasn't available?)
I am sad that we lost a member to cervical cancer this year, and I really appreciated that you all were assholes about the whole thing. Don't worry, we got the binder back.
Hope you all had fun- I know that you are just as excited as I am that I will not be presiding over meetings next year!
Kisses!
Yeah, that is so not going in the program.
I feel badly that I am this unpleasant about the whole thing, but whatever. They did not elect me to this office, and it has been something that I have had to endure just as much as they have. Whatever....
Monday, April 06, 2009
Forcing my Hand
An old friend of mine who lives no so close by has asked if she can borrow my baby furniture and it has presented a real conundrum. Do I "lend" it to her and acknowledge the fact that I will most likely never see it again without a lot of headache and deal with it that we will not be procreating again? Do I tell her no and continue to allow this stuff to take up as much space as it does in my basement until I decide that we are or are not having another child?
I am marginally attached to the crib only because it belonged to a child I babysat for and I love the idea of it being handed down (and still safe) and cradling so many babies (there was the girl, her brother, a friend of theirs' twins, another baby and my two girls).
Why is this difficult?
I am marginally attached to the crib only because it belonged to a child I babysat for and I love the idea of it being handed down (and still safe) and cradling so many babies (there was the girl, her brother, a friend of theirs' twins, another baby and my two girls).
Why is this difficult?
Friday, April 03, 2009
Coincidence
Today is Judy's birthday so off the girls and I went to fete her with Steak and Shake and gifts from Williams Sonoma.
She had saved all her gifts to be opened with us- she lets the girls help and it is more fun than doing it alone. Her neighbor had given her a gift wrapped in pages from an old magazine which for whatever reason intrigued me. I was looking at the magazine pages- Modern Homemaker copy write 1941- and was reading about Kerr's canning supplies and I noticed the address on the magazine. It was addressed to Mrs. C.V. Mossrush of Slippery Rock Pennsylvania, who just happens to be my great grandmother on my dad's side.
How would my mom's best friend's neighbor get a magazine from my great grandmother on my father's side's home?
My clairvoyant says there are no coincidences, so what is this?
She had saved all her gifts to be opened with us- she lets the girls help and it is more fun than doing it alone. Her neighbor had given her a gift wrapped in pages from an old magazine which for whatever reason intrigued me. I was looking at the magazine pages- Modern Homemaker copy write 1941- and was reading about Kerr's canning supplies and I noticed the address on the magazine. It was addressed to Mrs. C.V. Mossrush of Slippery Rock Pennsylvania, who just happens to be my great grandmother on my dad's side.
How would my mom's best friend's neighbor get a magazine from my great grandmother on my father's side's home?
My clairvoyant says there are no coincidences, so what is this?
Thursday, April 02, 2009
ER
Tim and I are parked in front of the final episode of ER, and I am kind of sad. We haven't been watching much this season, but tonight I had to soak my jankey toe (the results of a bad pedicure) which means I have to sit for a half hour watching tv in real time (was there life before Tivo?). While I am recording this on all the televisions, I decided to tune in and promptly got sucked in, as did Tim.
On the first day of our recent tropical vacation Tim had about 10 to many mojitos which led to a tremendous temper tantrum. A tantrum complete with wall punching (no damage done, thank heavens), screaming, crying (his, not mine), and the surfacing of a whole host of issues he has kept bottled up for way too long (apparently he is jealous of my relationship with my sister). While we were able to salvage the vacation (despite Nora's "vacation gastroenteritis") and we have kind of worked some things out, a lot of what he said has kind of stuck with me.
Being married to an only child is hard. Not like breaking your ankle hard, but like living without a leg hard. I love him so very dearly, but he is missing so many life lessons from not having a sibling and having parents who provided mere supervision. I joke about having three kids a lot (Tim being my third), but lately it has felt like I am the one responsible for rearing him as well. While I don't really mind, it is a tremendous amount of work. He is more stubborn and resistant than my three year old, and more ridiculous and immature than the six year old. But I love him.
So here we sit, like we have so many other Thursday nights, in our respective seats on the sofa watching the trials and tribulations of life at County General. As I said, we haven't been watching this season, but it doesn't matter. All the episodes are pretty much the same. There is something comforting about this show and our Thursday routine of watching it. To be honest, I am going to miss having it as a reminder. A reminder of episodes past (when we were worried about Abby Lockhart's drinking and Carter losing his baby) when we would sit on the couch silently watching crappy drama. I would sit and write thank you notes from shower/wedding/baby gifts and Tim would actually sit still for 50 minutes (we usually tuned in late or fast forwarded commercials). This show presented us an image of our potential future- of us being that old couple facing terminal illness, or, God forbid, us being the parents with the sick kids who have fallen out of trees, eaten rosaries or drank to much. The bad recreation of the human drama would bring Tim and I together for an hour a week and in a way it would remind us that life was not so bad, and I am going to miss having this as a way to spend Thursday night. BUt hey, there are always DVDs, right. I mean, we have to figure out when they brought Jerry back. Didn't he die?
On the first day of our recent tropical vacation Tim had about 10 to many mojitos which led to a tremendous temper tantrum. A tantrum complete with wall punching (no damage done, thank heavens), screaming, crying (his, not mine), and the surfacing of a whole host of issues he has kept bottled up for way too long (apparently he is jealous of my relationship with my sister). While we were able to salvage the vacation (despite Nora's "vacation gastroenteritis") and we have kind of worked some things out, a lot of what he said has kind of stuck with me.
Being married to an only child is hard. Not like breaking your ankle hard, but like living without a leg hard. I love him so very dearly, but he is missing so many life lessons from not having a sibling and having parents who provided mere supervision. I joke about having three kids a lot (Tim being my third), but lately it has felt like I am the one responsible for rearing him as well. While I don't really mind, it is a tremendous amount of work. He is more stubborn and resistant than my three year old, and more ridiculous and immature than the six year old. But I love him.
So here we sit, like we have so many other Thursday nights, in our respective seats on the sofa watching the trials and tribulations of life at County General. As I said, we haven't been watching this season, but it doesn't matter. All the episodes are pretty much the same. There is something comforting about this show and our Thursday routine of watching it. To be honest, I am going to miss having it as a reminder. A reminder of episodes past (when we were worried about Abby Lockhart's drinking and Carter losing his baby) when we would sit on the couch silently watching crappy drama. I would sit and write thank you notes from shower/wedding/baby gifts and Tim would actually sit still for 50 minutes (we usually tuned in late or fast forwarded commercials). This show presented us an image of our potential future- of us being that old couple facing terminal illness, or, God forbid, us being the parents with the sick kids who have fallen out of trees, eaten rosaries or drank to much. The bad recreation of the human drama would bring Tim and I together for an hour a week and in a way it would remind us that life was not so bad, and I am going to miss having this as a way to spend Thursday night. BUt hey, there are always DVDs, right. I mean, we have to figure out when they brought Jerry back. Didn't he die?
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