Thursday, October 30, 2008

The Freaking Orange Napkins That Say BOO!

So do you watch the show "The New Adventures of Old Christine" ? I don't watch it every week, but I catch it often enough. I've always thought it very funny when they feature Christine's lousy skills at volunteering at her son's school.

Found it funny, but never really related to it. Until today. I'm certain what happened today will be relived on some psychiatrist's couch 30 years from now as D1 laments that her Mother never really cared.

D1 had her Halloween party today. Last week a sign up sheet was put up for the parents to volunteer to bring something - a snack, juice, prizes, treats, napkins, and plates. The usual kid party fare. I quickly rejected the treats, prizes and snacks because it sounded like way too much pressure. I mean, it was the first party and all, what was the right thing to bring? I didn't know. So I did the lame (and cheap!) thing, and volunteered to buy the napkins. Which I did, that same day, in fact. Actually had anxiety over picking them out. Should I have consulted with the buyer of the plates to make sure they coordinated? I didn't know. So I went out on a limb and paid $2.78 for two packs of orange napkins that said BOO!.

All I knew about the day of the party was that I dropped her off in her costume, then I came back 30 minutes earlier than normal to watch the kids parade around and then go back to their classroom to sing songs. Somehow I read into this that the party was along with the song singing. And actually, I put some thought into this the night before. Do I bring the napkins when I drop her off, or will I get eyes rolled at me? Am I suppose to bring them when I come to see the parade, so I can help set up?

I finally decided that I would bring them along with me when I was dropping her off, just in case.
That's what I decided last night. See, I put thought into it - ahead of time.

This morning involved the usual power struggles of eating breakfast, using the potty and fighting with her sister. Plus extra angst around getting dressed in her Princess costume. While I was changing D2's diaper, D1 went into my room to use my makeup. Because everyone knows that Princesses wear makeup. Remember? D1 comes out with blue and black smeared all over her face. Arghhhh. I only get about half of it off. Too pissed that she dipped my over priced eye make brushes into my lipstick. (any tips on getting those cleaned? Please, let me know!) Then there is the fight over what to wear under the Princess dress. I want leggings and a long sleeve top. She wants no top and black stockings. Arghhhh. We finally agree on a top and multi-colored tights. Fine. She's doesn't let me brush her hair. Fine.

Actually on time, I get both girls buckled into the car. As I'm backing up the car, I realize I forgot the freaking napkins. Should I go back? Nah, too cold out. I'll just bring them with me later.

As we pull up, I try to put her tiara on, she crys that it hurts her ears. Fine. Just carry it. Oh, and you broke the wand? Fine. Just carry it that way.

We line up outside the building, with the other Mom's and their costumed children. 8 other little girls. A cheerleader, little bo peep and 6 other freaking princesses. Perfectly coiffed Princesses. With clean, shiny faces, styled hair with bobby pinned tiara's, coordinating and warm under clothes. Princesses that Disney would be proud to call their own.

As we are entering the class, I see that all the other Mom's have brought along their assigned party paraphnelia. Beautiful orange cup cakes, goody bags overflowing with treats. Plates, cups, the whole caboodle. I tell the teacher that I will bring mine later, when we come back. She gives me a puzzled look then says "oh, we'll just use our plain napkins, because actually, the party is BEFORE the parade".

I ruined my daughter's first halloween party because she did not have Boo! napkins. I just know this will be used against me. And I'm expected to sleep tonight? You should have seen the looks of the other Mom's. The Mom's who managed to brush their daughter's hair and stuff goody bags. The Mom's who washed their child's faces and decorated cup cakes. You know what they were thinking. I know what they were thinking - it was written all over them. "She couldn't remember some freaking orange napkins?" "She ruined my child's party!"

I don't know how I will live this down. For the Christmas party I suppose I could volunteer for something big, like the goody bags. I could redeem myself by stuffing those bags to near breaking with Santa chatkes. But what if I volunteer, and like three days later I get a call from the room Mom? " Uh yeah, the rest of the Mom's were talking, and we're just not sure you're ready for this responsibility, after your poor performance at the Halloween party. This is just much too important to our 3 year old's lives, to just hand over such a responsibility to a Mom like you. Perhaps you should just take baby steps, and volunteer to bring in the plates"

The Horror.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Guru For Hire

So, do you want to know what is my true ambition in life? My biggest dream? I want to be a guru. Your guru. Somebody's guru. Are you looking for one? I'm available. I'm convinced this is my true calling in life. What I was meant to do. I'm pretty sure I would excel. I could wear long flowy dresses, and dye my hair burgundy. Wear lots of clinking jewelry. Maybe even walk around with a pair of fairy wings. I think I could definitely look the part of a guru. From my mansion, I would tell people that I don't do it for the money, but for the good of mankind. I could even do infomercials, available for viewing at 1 am and 3 am. I could sell my books and framed photos of myself on QVC at 2 am. I would be the answer to every insomniacs dream.

I've put a lot of thought into this. How does one become a guru, do you think? I'm pretty sure I need some kind of specialty.

For a while, I thought I could become certified in yoga, tweak it a little into some sort of jenism and then become a guru. But I realized this would require me to get my ass off of my sofa become more flexible than I presently am. So I threw that idea out the door.

The secrets told in this blog definitely ruined my chances of becoming a parenting guru. Unless someone wants to know my secrets to getting your children to run around naked in the backyard and refuse to have their faces washed.

This blog also ruined my chances of being the next cleaning guru. Maybe I could take a stance on NOT cleaning. I'm pretty sure I could round up a few people to buy that one. Cleaning is a dredge to your psyche! Stop now!

Perhaps I can make up my own religion. Become a cult leader. I could use my blog as a sort of recruitment site. What would the basis of my religion be? I have unlocked the secrets of the universe! Enlightment can be obtained! It's a precarious thing, but if you are careful enough somewhere between 16 and 16.2 ounces of coffee you will see the light! Just be sure to add the right amount of sugar and half n half and astral projection will also be possible.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

I need bam bams for my boo boo's on my ba ba's

So I think I've mentioned that I live in a very conservative suburban neighborhood, complete with a Home Owner's Association with rules out the wazoo and every other house proudly waving their McCain signs. And I know I've mentioned my very nice neighbor with the immaculate house. Should also mention that her children are always nicely (and fully!) dressed with brushed hair and clean faces.

Enter The Henny Crew. When playing in the back yard, I consider it a good day if both girls have on a shirt and a pair of pants. A clean shirt and pants and the heaven's are shining down on us. Clean clothes, shoes, combed hair and washed faces are, well are nothing, because it's yet to happen.

On Saturday, my sister, nephew and Mom came to visit for the day. The weather was just incredible, so we spent the day playing and talking in the back yard. Got some take out for lunch. Which after eating, the girls threw the empty hoagie containers and water bottles all over the yard. Gave the place that touch of Appalachia look. Real nice.

The girls started out dressed. Then D1 decided her ba ba's (yes, that's what she calls her nipples, sorry I'm not big on using the proper terminology for body parts. Please, it's the least of my problems) hurt her. So she took off her shirt. Convinced her Mimi that she needed band aid's for them. Or as she calls them, bam bams. Mimi wasn't getting the bam bam's fast enough, so D1 starts crying loudly, "I need bam bams for my boo boo's on my ba ba's! PLEAASSSEEE!" Try saying that three times fast. Mimi has bright green bam bams, which she places over each of D1's nipples. Looks sort of like, well, you know what it looks like, I don't have to say. I then chase her around for a few minutes, trying to get her shirt back on her, all the while thinking, please god don't let the neighbors see this!

About a half hour passes with both girls fully clothed. Then D1 takes off her skirt and panties. "Mama ! I have to pee!" "Ok, D1, lets go inside" "No Mama, I pee in bushes!" And so I chase her around the yard, telling her that we don't need to pee in bushes because we have a potty right inside. She escapes me and crawls under her Little Tikes Play structure and sits, not squats, and starts to pee. I'm screaming, "squat! squat!" She actually gets it, and at least doesn't pee all over her self. Before she crawls out she also takes off her shirt. I then have to chase my completely naked 3 year old around the yard to get her dressed. Completely naked except for the bam bam's.

I wonder how many neighbors saw us, and if they are notifying the HOA of these interlopers that have pushed their way into their fine neighborhood.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Blog in Real Life

So one of the tips I read about gaining readers for your blog is to have a link to it under your signature on your email. I figured I'd try this, and it has worked, I've had quite a few people tell me that they have read my blog,and actually enjoy it (wow!)

But this has created a few issues. One being that I often forget to delete it before sending emails to people that I don't really want to read it. AWKWARD. Although, I have to say that most of those have turned out ok. I've actually found quite a few supporters that way.

But the really awkward thing is, well, to sum it up, my life is pretty lame. I don't have a whole lot to say. The things I do have to say usually end up in the blog. So then I'm out, say with the MOM's Club, and I know that several of the Mom's read my blog, or at least have perused it once or twice. So there I am rambling on as I usually do, and I realize crap, I've already said this on the blog. How lame am I? What if I tell it a little differently or something? Will they think I'm a liar? Or just a bore? Cuz like I'm sure there lives are way more exciting - you know in their little stay at home Mom worlds, right?

Then I also notice often that after I'm with people that I know read my blog, that my traffic goes up. Are people checking to see if I write about them? Maybe this is just conceited of me to think, but I know that if I knew someone in real life that blogged, I'd totally do that. In fact, I think I'm going to befriend a blogger in real life, just for that reason.

So today I went to a meeting about the really cool Charter School they are trying to open in this area. One of the men there said to the group - "Jen writes this really cool blog" (how cool was that?) and one woman asks "what is it about?" And I think, hmmm.. I barely know these people - what should I say it's about? The writings of a neurotic stay at home mom who drinks way too much coffee, does embarrassing things and really has nothing of substance to discuss? Is that what it's about? So I just said it's a "family blog". They all looked so disappointed. This probably would of been a good time for that random lieing, errr, storymaking thing I've mentioned to kick in. I could have said "Since I'm now a stay at home Mom, I'm putting my Harvard education to use by discussing the research I did on Neuroscience." Hmmmm I can't even sound intelligent if I make shit up. Oh well.

Which, while I'm on the subject of that meeting. Can I tell you it made me realize something else? I'm totally losing social skills. Just 3.5 short years ago, I could stand up in a meeting and really push to have my thoughts and opinions heard and understood. I feel like I'm reverting back to that awkward 12 year old who was afraid of her own voice. Maybe I just spend way too much time in front of the computer. Or maybe it's my constant companions are 3 and 1 1/2. Arghhh. Event's like that make me think I really need to go back to work. I swear, I contributed nothing, and when I did speak up I stuttered. What the hell?

And now since this post has lost any semblance of cohesion, I want to mention - did you see how I started this post? With the word "so". I'm thinking, I could probably start every post with this word. It's such a great opener for our generation.

Thursday, October 9, 2008

Getting Old

So my old college friend came to visit this past weekend - the one who had to cancel back in August. Remember that post? The one where I went on about how much we would drink? Yeah. I guess I can start to use our periodic visits as age markers. Haven't seen her in about 2.5 years. Our lameness has definitely progressed quite rapidly since then. They arrived around 10:30 on Friday. We quickly chatted and then both of us were in bed by midnight. She had a glass of wine, to help her sleep (yeah, not for the joy of it, just as a sleep aid.) I barely choked down a beer. The next morning we were all REALLY excited to drink coffee. Yep, coffee. Then she & I escaped from the kids and husbands to run errands. Yep, errands. Did stop for some killer lattes, though. WAHOO! We were wired!

Had a great day playing with the kids at the playground and walking around our town and neighborhood. Was able to exhale when I saw that D1 and my friends 4 yr old got along very well. They were actually very cute together - all huggy and kissy in that cute preschooler way.

Made a great dinner, where once I again I barely choked down a beer. Stopped after three quarters of it because it was making me sleepy. Yep, sleepy. Got the kids asleep by 9. Time to party! WAHOO! So we made ice cream sundaes and watched tv. Even stayed up through the opening monologue of SNL. WAHOO! Not the entire show, mind you, just through the monologue.

It really was a wonderful weekend. Very, uh, mature of us to conduct ourselves in such a restrained manner. Yeah, that's it, we were restraining ourselves from any wild behaviour.

Truly though, the weekend made me very happy. And it made me realize just how priceless an old friend who is getting old along with you can be. She was right along with me at age 20 partying and making all sorts of stupid decisions. She knew me when. And she still loves me now. Jammy wearing, coffee drinking, practical shoe wearing me. And I love her now, too. Sweat pant loving, bunion afflicted and practical car driving beautiful Suz.