No Ifs Ma'ams Or Buts

I have to confess I don't get the whole Ma'am issue. Yes, I understand when women complain about being called ma'am bceause oh dear god they certainly aren't old enough to be a ma'am they were just in high school oh gosh, was it really fifteen years ago, but I'm still young and vital and can not POSSIBLY BE A MA'AM yet never mind those children behind me. Blah blah blah whiny whiny. What is your problem? Would you really rather be called Miss? because honestly, I find that a bit condescending. one step up from "boy" without all the nasty racial/slavery connotations. But maybe I just know what it feels like to be hit with that at a crucial age or something. The first time I was called ma'am I was 21 years old - and let me tell you, at 22 I was asked if I was old to enough to be in a bar WHILE WORKING THERE, so I'm pretty sure I wasn't looking all old and ma'am age. I was just pleased to be treated with respect. I would rather be called ma'am that "hey you" or "lady" anyday. And I'm sorry, but if I have to get your attention and I don't know you, I'm going to call you ma'am. Not because you look old, but because it is polite. Unless you are a man, in which case I will call you dude*, because that is how I roll.



*ok, fine. you caught me. If you are a man I will call you sir. Because I am genteel. Unless you are a jerk in which case I will totally key your car.

The Post In Which My Baby Son Looks Like John Goodman

This is Jack at two or three months old:

Does he not look like a costume in which a grown man has his face through a cut out with pillows and a stuffed baby body attached? I thought it was so super adorable at the time, but now it is just bizarre. ok. I still think it's cute, but definitely odd.

here is he now, lest you think he never outgrew that weirdness, Handsome, no?

Saturday Say What

me: "Izzy, why did you leave Sophie all alone in the basement?" Izzy: "well, she wasn't crying, so I left her."

my husband: "who wants to go brush teeth?" Izzy: " NOBODY!"

playing in a large tupperware toy bin, kicking the side near the baby: "Sophie likes it when I kick the bucket."

after I pointed out the line of bruises up her shin: "they came back! But this time they're on the other leg."

to the lions at the zoo who were literally only 5 feet away and were eyeing the baby in my arms quite lustily: "no lions! you can't eat my sister!"

with no context: "Can I sit in this basket for 2 hours?"

um, sure, little girl, go ahead.

If you want to hear about how my bathroom has become a death trap. go here

Bittersweet

Hello. My name is Kate, and I am an addict. I do not use narcotics. I am not an alcoholic. But I am an addict nonetheless. My drug of choice: sugar. And while it may sound funny (and you are welcome to laugh), I assure you I am 100% serious. I am writing this at my heaviest (non pregnant) weight EVER- and while there have certainly been indiscretions of the savory sort, sugar is the culprit. Do not give me the moderation speech - this is not an issue of willpower. I understand what it feels like to give in to a weak moment and overeat -I have done it with cheeseburgers or pizza or pasta. This is not that. This is sneaking candy bars and hiding the wrappers in the trash can so my husband won't see how many I've eaten. This is rushing to eat as moany cookies as I can before the kids wake up so I don't have to share. Waiting for my husband to go to bed so I can have another helping of dessert. Or maybe two. I can not stop at one cookie. I can not stop at five. If I eat so many sweets that the sugar becomes cloying, I will have something salty to refresh my palate so that I can eat more sugar. If I get interrupted before I can eat as many as I want, I will plan constantly the next moment I will spend with sugar. This is addict behavior, and it is no different from an alcoholic planning their next drink or a junkie their next fix. I have a problem and it ends here. I don't have a resolute plan yet - I would like to go cold turkey but the thought of that has me planning a bender first, so I may have to ease into it. All I know is that I will be beholden to sugar no more. It is poison, and it has no place in my life.

Divas Don't Do Dishes Dinner Club, Part the Second

Well, last night was really fun. I met four ladies who seem to share similar senses of humor to me, and I think we all had a good time. They have all known each other for a long time now, so it was a bit awkward being the newbie - put on the spot to share info about myself a bit - but I think I fit in ok, and I hope they liked me. They made sure I knew these get togethers are every month so I'm assuming that means they want me to come back, right? I avoided foot in mouth syndrome, and I think I did ok on the whole eye contact issue (I tend not to look directly at people when I'm talking, so I have to remind myself to make eye contact, and then remind myself to blink and glance away occassionally or I stare like a psycho), so hopefully as they all drove away together (three of them carpool) they were talking about how nice I was rather than saying what a loser. Either way, I don't really care because I had a fun time and a great dinner. So there!

Divas Don't Do Dishes Dinner Club, Part 1

Since I have been in Omaha, my efforst at making friends have been spotty at best. There have been no women at the park when I've gone (like, literally deserted). The women I've come across through the preschool (not the teachers AT ALL) can be summed up with one word starting with a "B" and ending with "otch." At the open house, the mothers of Izzy's class mates (with one exception) greeted all of my smiles and overtures with blank stares followed by walking away. Seriously - one woman spoke to me, and smiles when I see her at pick up or drop off. Other than that the next best response I've gotten has been staring through me like I don't exist. Several of the father's spoke with me cordially, leading me to wonder if I'm coming cross as some sort of heathen homewrecker or something. Who knew jeans, a tshirt and three young (wel behaved) children was saucy enough to alienate everyone? And if you will allow me to sound totally bitchy for a moment, I will add that it is not only their attitudes that makes the other mothers ugly - they are all frumptastic sourpusses, and frankly I'm glad they don't want me to join their snotty littel lives. My one succesful attempt so far has been the stroller boot camp I take when Izzy is at school. The women there are all really nice (and pretty and stylish), and I have even gotten numbers from two of them with plans to have playdates sometime. So it's not all bad. And tonight I will be making yet another stride towards meeting some new friends. I have joined the Divas Dont Do Dishes Dinner Club through Meetup.com (thanks for the tip, Sarah!) and the first dinner is tonight. Basically I am going on a blind date with 7 other women. I am excited but also completely nervous - making friends is definitely NOT a strong suit with me. But I have an outfit picked out, my hair is freshly blow dried and my nails polished. Let's hope I don't have an anxiety attack. Wish me luck!!

ps: I'll let you know how it went tomorrow!

pps: just visited the website for the restaurant we are going to (ironically, it is in the same parking lot as the preschool) and they have an extensive list of fruity delicious looking martinis. Whoop whoop

A Week In The Life

A lot of times at night as I get ready for bed I think of things I want to discuss on my blog. I keep a notebook by my bed for this reason, to jot down the idea or great sentence I just thought of so I won't forget. bcecause I have foolishly embarked upon NaBloPoMo again, I have been jotting down more things bceause nothing is too banal for my month of posting. This afternoon, the best thing I could come up with to discuss was my new schedule, and I thought that was rather lame, so I figured I'd check my list. Many of the things on it have to wait until later in the month to really make sense and therefore would not be useable today. Some were for my other blog. One was: pumpkins! With the exclamation point. And I thought, yes that would be a great topic, and timely given the recen tholiday, except i have absolutely no clue what I wanted to write about pumpkins. I certainly don't know what could have made me excited enough to use an exclamation point. So here is the new schedule I've put myself on:
MWF
7am: wake up. unless Izzy gets up earlier (or later, wheee!), but try to trick her into staying in her room until at least 7am by telling her she can't get up until the sun does.
8-9:30am: clean something. pick a floor of my house and clean it while the kids play in the basement. Ignore crying and calls for mommy or else this will not get done. Loud crashes may be investigated. Administer snacks and movies if cooperation is not evident.
10ish-11:30ish am: Gym (possibly go to Target first). Aim for 1 hour cardio. Sitting on the recumbent bike reading a novel totally counts as cardio.
Go home, give kids lunch and put them down for naps
12-3pm: NAPTIME!! this is YOUR time. use it to shower, read magazines, read blogs, write blogs, catch up on DVRd TV, paint your fingernails, nap, paly computer games, Twitter or Facebook. DO NOT spend it on the phone with your husband during his commute home - that is wasting alone time.
after nap: play with the kids, run to the store do whatever.
5:30/6pm: dinner time, followed by baths, brushing of teeth, tv and bed
7pm - KIDS' BEDTIME!!! you are now free to eat dinner yourself, watch tv, vegetate and do whatever you want.
11pm: Go to bed. Seriously. Turn off the computer, turn off the tv and go get some sleep. No more midnights!

Tues/Thurs
get up same time - there will be no cleaning this morning because of feeding/dressing three children plus myself and the preparations fr a morning out
9am: Izzy school
9:30: 10:30am: stroller boot camp workout followed by 30 minutes in the mall play area
11:30am: pick up Izzy at school. home for lunch and naps
NAPTIME!! Still all about YOU. perhaps make sure the kitchen is not a disaster so teh husband doesn't come home to a pigsty and wonder why he married you, but spend no more than 10 minutes doing this, MAX.
Rest of the day: follow same schedule above
Additional: 7:30pm Mon and Thurs will take 1hr yoga class.

Weekends: who schedules weekends? pffft. Maybe do the laundry. Try to cram everything down in the hamper to make space so you don't have to.

So there you have it. My new and improved schedule for a new and improved me. I like routine, and I think I have established fairly well that if I don't have one for cleaning I just won't do it ever, so this is my new plan. I have so far stuck to it for a day and a half. i hope I can make it through at least this whole month, and if I do, by them it will be...routine. Ha!

Halloween Recap

I sat down to write this and realized that there wasn't much to write - it was a fun night, but pretty typical as far as everything goes. We got dressed up, we went around the neighborhood, we came home put the kids to bed, and then Mommy and Daddy sat around eating the leftover candy. But not the kids' candy, because we are good parents like that. I actually broke my unintended Halloween candy fast - for an entire month (or I guess more like 4 months since whenever the candy showed up in stoes - June?) I have not had a single piece of Halloween candy - it didn't tempt me in the stores, and when I finally bought a couple bags in preparation they sat untouched (by me) on to of the fridge for a whole week. And I hadn't had an Almond Joy in like 20 years, but for some reason on Sturday night they suddenly looked AWESOME. So I ate them all. Anywya, there wasn't much to share, except for teh photos. And I assure you, the kids had a wonderful time. It is not evident in the pictures because they REALLY didn't want to pose for them - they wanted to go out and get CANDY!!!! But they did have fun, and I promise I will spare you most of the 50 pictures I took. Enjoy!

ps: my husband was supposed to be dressed as a Superfan. He had a great costume that he wore to work on Friday, but Saturday morning he woke up, forgot all about Halloween, and shaved off his mustache. Without the mustache, the costume just becomes "guy in Bears tshirt." So there are no photos of his costume. I have instructed him to regrow the mustache so we can reenact it for the purposes of this blog. So stay tuned for updates!

This Totally Counts

So, it is November now, the OFFICIAL NaBloPo month, the one that started it all, and the month you are really supposed to focus on to participate in writing one blog post everyday for a month. Some of the other blogs I read are doing it, and since I'm a sucker for peer pressure I though I might join in, even though I just did it in August (which is a whole day longer, so this should be a breeze). I'd totally jump off a bridge if they said so too, ha! But of course, I may not actually follow through because I'm not feeling especially dedicated to this idea at the moment, due to my desire to just lay about and be lazy and read magazines and play computer games. And also, I am realizing just how much blog READING I will be doing all month if everyone else is doing this too, and I may run out of computer time. Who knows? Anyway, right now I think the plan will be to give it a shot - and we'll see how long my material holds out for. I also have a ton of Halloween pictures so maybe I'll just stretch those out to last all week.

ps: I know I didn't do Saturday Say What this week, but I was planning on doing it with the pictures but I couldn't be bothered to spend all the time necessary to load the pictures and type out the cute things that were said this week, so we'll just have an extra long bonus edition next week. Be sure to check in too, because she's said some pretty funny things.

pps: also, I might even get super ambitious and try to post everyday on my other blog too. that seems unlikely, but hey, stranger things have happened.

ppps: I just remembered I had kind of wanted to try NaNoWriMo, which is National Novel Writing month where you try to write a 50,000 word novel during the month of Novemeber. yeah, that shit ain't happening.

Who You Looking For?

Various blogs often take a moment to comment on the bizarre things people Google that lead them to their site - usually it is embarassing or just totally weird, and of course, it serves as a great lesson to me when I am searching for something odd that if I click on the wrong site, they will totally know my search terms. I feel all exposed like people will be able to track back to me and know that I'm interested in jockey hamsters or whatever. Thank God that part of it is still anonymous. Anyway, ever hopeful that I will have this wonderful source of endless entertainment and blog fodder, I checked out my search terms. Guess what I got? Nada. A few terms that were pretty much exact wordings of titles I've written (so totally NOT funny, obviously), and these:

how much money does pablum make?
(unfortunately, pablum makes no money, my friend. unless you are a journalist in which case it can pay fairly well I believe)

metaphor cankles commercial
this? Is awesome. Don't know what kind of ad are selling metephorical cankles, but I want to see it. I'm curious who might possibly be the intended market for cankles, metaphorical or not. I'm also totally interested in how googling this led here.

but regardless of the wonder that is the cankle (not to be confused with the thnee), my search terms are just sad. Get out there are Google some crazy shit, yo! just make sure it leads back here because I'm in the mood for some free post material.

Wordless Wednesday

This is an old picture, but it is just so cute to have all three in the tub together - and amazing to me that everyone is now old enough (and stable enough) to be sitting in the tub together. no one gets pushed over or knocked down or loses body control and flops over; mah babies are growin up!
Also, I am totally cheaping out on this entry because I just read over 60 blog entires from all the other people I follow, while trying to watch Top Chef, and thinking about the magazine I want to read as well as possibly squeezing in a few more games of Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook before bed, and my husband likes it when the house is actually sort of clean so maybe I'll have to put some dishes away too, but at least I vacuumed so there, and I have to figure out if I'm actually going to wear my purple wig to Izzy's preschool Halloween party tomorrow cause I need a lot of extra makeup to pull it off but it also kind of itches so if I take it off I'll look totally crazy and also my hair will be smushed, and oops I didn't wash it for like three days so I should probably go do that tonight too. So see? I'm busy.

Life Has A Soundtrack

I am not a music person. Make no mistake, I LOVE music. I am a dancer, and so when a song speaks to me it truly resonates within every cell of my body. But music itself is not my passion. I cannot hear two notes of a song and know what it is and the artist. Frankly, I barely know even my favorite artists, and I can pretty much never name the song. Lyrics, I know, and of course, how a song makes me move. I know how to capture the feeling of a song within myself, but I will never be the person you go to for a great song choice, or to discover new bands; that person who has an encyclopedic knowledge of all things music. My brain just doesn't work that way. And honestly, this may be one of the bigger regrets in my life. Because there is very little that can inspire and move us like music. Music helps us recall the past. Music makes us forever remember the present. Nothing else can evoke emotion so swiftly, so certainly, and so easily as music. A classic scene in a movie? Probably has a great score behind it. That key moment in your life? Probably has a song that brings you back to that moment. There is a reason we all remember the song we danced to at our 6th grade dance/the prom/our wedding. Music can bring back the feelings you had the first time you heard them, and they can give you the emotions of the moment as well. And for this reason I have always wished I was more of a music savant. Is there anything better than nailing that perfect workout tune as you pump away on the elliptical? Putting your most melancholy breakup song on repeat during a particularly sharp heartache? Finding the ideal anthem for driving fast with the windows down? Life has a soundtrack. And I've always been a little jealous of those of us lucky enough to really be in touch with what theirs is.

written while listening to Slow Dancing In a Burning Room : John Mayer, Continuum

For Those Dogs Who Like To Clean Up After Themselves

On my way through Target today (which was a longer trip than usual given the fact that my children literally touched every. single. thing. in the store) we passed down the pet aisle and I noticed this choice of pooper scoopers:

On the left you can see the scooper that is marked "for dogs of all sizes." On the right, you can see the scooper that is "for small dogs" only. Does anything about this strike you as odd? Like perhaps the fact that while dogs may vary greatly in size the owners do not? Are small dogs owned by tiny little people or do the manufacturers just figure that if since they bend over so much to pat their wee little dogs they wouldn't mind hunching over to also scoop the poop? I'm thinking that if I have to bend over that far to use a fancy scooper, I can just as easily do without the scooper. Isn't the purpose of a scooper (beyond removing that fun possibility of actually touching the poop) to make it easier to just pick it up? The size of teh dog doesn't really enter into that at all in my mind - large dogs' poop is not harder to reach than little dogs'. These should be labeled "for all dog owners" and "for little people dog owners." And it may not be PC, but I'd love to see a label like that!

Saturday Say What Sing Along Edition

So, this week I thought I would regale you with the lyrics of one of the songs isabelle likes to sing. much of her repetoir is the classics - Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Old MacDonald, etc, but sometimes she likes to sing "the Lava Girl song." As you may or may not know, lava Girl is the character in a not so great movie by Robert Rodgriguez that Izzy absolutely loves. however, there is no actual song in this movie. So she makes up lyrics and I repeat them back and we sing these new songs that way for as long as I can stand it (they can go on quite some time). Feel free to sing along to any tune you wish - use a monotone if you wish to maintain the integrity and mood of the original version.

Lava Girl Song (lyrics by Isabelle Johnson, as transcribed by me, typos or strange spellings are to maintain the unique pronunciation of the artist, unless it says "teh")

Lava Girl went out with keys in her pocket
and she tried them in the lock
but they didn't fit
cause it was too big
so she got another key
it was a very small one
and it fit very perfect
so she went in and put the keys on the counter
but she couldn't find them later
cause Shark Boy put them in his room
and he locked it
cause he didn't like her
so she went to dance class
with her Lava mommy
and then she died in a volvano

Shark boy went to get some groceries with his mommy
his Shark Boy mommy
and he was a little baby yesterday
and then he growed up
and then he pet the kitty
and it was very wet, she took a shower
a kitty shower

Shark Boy went to get his water bottle
and it had a Shark boy face
and then he got hot
like a very big hot dog
a giant hot dog
and then it squash him
very him very hard
and then it squirt him with orange juice water
and then he dried his towel
and put his new suit on
his green suit on
that has Shark Boy on it
because he doesn't like the purple one
but Lava Girl doos
he liked it yesterday
but he didn't like it this time
and he didn't do something
he just went to the store
to buy some yogurt
and then he eat it all gone.

future grammy winner, no?

also said this week:

to me when I had my back to her, feeding her brother, with an accompanying pat on my rear: "What is this big butt doing here?"

also to me, when I asked if she needed help eating: "I don't need help because I'm a big girl. And you're a big fat mommy." pause pause "I mean a big fat LADY."

guess I need to stop alking about my weight gain around her.

and finally:

Izzy: "we want crackers and smoothie...and chocolate because we've been good."
me: "well, you're quite the little manipulator aren't you?"
Izzy: "Yes. I. Am.

At Least I Know I'll Never Be On Hoarders

I hate clutter (this is where my husband rolls his eyes and thinks, yeah right). Clutter makes me feel twitchy and uncomfortable and anxious. I like a tidy house. When my house is neat and tidy and everything is put away I feel such a sense of release - I can literally feel tension seeping out of my body after I clean (this is where he wonders how I would know since I never really do any cleaning). I am even willing to actually do the work to put everything away (my husband is now yelling at the computer screen "then why does a load of laundry take a week, you LIAR!)- assuming there is a place to put it. Here lies the slippery slope down which I can not venture, resulting in my house always being a pigsty: there is not enough storage for all our junk. And what storage we do have is certainly not organized, given the number of people going in and out of it, getting things, not having time to really put them away properly so just throwing them in, making it a mess that I never find the time to get to and then we get a gift or buy something new and I don't know where it goes so it just gets chucked in somewhere and oh my god where does it end eveything is messy and unfolded and I'm going to scream. Seriously. My heart is pounding and my level of stress ratcheted up from about 2 to 11 just typing that sentence. And because I do not thrive on stress or drama or tension I make like an ostrich and refuse to see the problems. Tra la la, laundry that has been in the dryer for a week is no problem because if I get it out and fold it nicely and then have to see the over stuffed and/or haphazard drawers rearranged by toddlers I will start to hyperventilate. Fa la la, thank you so much for your generousity but really, stop giving us gifts because our closets are full and they are just going to sit collecting dust on top of the refrigerator where I threw it to get it off the counter. I thought I had untaken a massive cleansing of stuff and junk and miscellany before we moved. That was before I realized that while our new house is bigger, it is even shorter on storage. I remember unpacking and organizing and thinking "this if great. this closet is so nice and neat and I can get in and out so easily, and WTF - where did THAT box come from, holy hell, there are three more, where is all this crap going to go?" Yes, we have boxes still unpacked. Yes, there is a good chance I may just chuck it all if they continue to go unpacked because obviously we don't really need that stuff. There is always that argument that you can't just get rid of things without going through it because you may lose something you need - but honestly? If I don't know I have it, or I don't know where it is when I need it, is it really that bg a loss? We have one box of my hubsand's memorabilia (mine is all still with my parents and it will stay there forever if I can help it), and it is clearly marked so I can manage to cleanse without the need to sort and not accidentally purge anything irreplaceable. I have two very different sides - the consumerist shopaholic and the minimalist organization freak, and these facets do not mesh well. Add in lazy with a fear of confrontation (yes, I consider dealing with your own neuroses and attempting to tackle unpleasant chores confrontation) and you end up with a messy house. I realize that saving things for possible future use is economical, but if I never manage to sort the hand me down baby clothes before the baby has outgrown them, is there really a point in saving them? And what about all the clothes that everyone has outgrown - I may be saving them "just in case," but really, I'm keeping them because I can't bear to let them go. Clothes that I loved so much when I first saw them, with so much wear left in them, are hard to part with. But I have buckets and buckets and drawers (that get explored and "refolded" by children, not neatly) filling up space I could be using for something else.
But even if I manage to solve my long term storage issues, there is still the problem of the daily clutter that builds up in a house with three kids. Who wants to run upstairs for a sweater (and then again for this kid. and the other kid. and the other other kid) everytime it gets a little chilly? Who wants to run upstairs for a pair (or 4) of shoes before every trip out of the house? no one. So you keep some downstairs, by the door where they are convenient. And in the way. and taking up space that you could use for your laundry detergent or brooms or a thousand other things that have no place and instead just sit randomly atop any surface that happened to be empty at the time. And after awhile, those random surfaces become "where the dustpan goes," and the house just gets sloppy and slovenly and you stop even seeing the mess. I seriously can't live like this. I cannot continue just not cleaning my house properly because of all the stuff in the way. It may be wasteful to get rid of things I already have but don't use, and less efficient to only have one of everything and have to move it from room to room or never buy new products until the old ones are truly all used up, but I just cannot live with having stuff everywhere. Drawers full of half filled notebooks? Really? Stacks of sheets or pillowcases I will never ever use? No. I do not need these things when it means that my counters end up holding everything we use on a regular basis because they is nowhere else to put them. Things may not always be IN their place, but they at least need to HAVE a place. Because on the rare occasions I do clean, I don't want that to mean I just straightened up the piles.