My Girl

This is my daughter. Today, she turns 11. Happy Birthday Sweetheart. Mommy and Daddy are so proud of the way you are growing up.










Yesterday she was like this.









A couple of days before that she was like this.






~sigh~

A Fix

World Magazine just came out with its 2008 book issue. This is the issue where they review a whole boat load of books. For a book addict like me, this is crack. If anyone needs me, and I mean critical emergencies only, I'll be in the basement, reading. Just send down a latte ever four hours. No, make that three hours.

It's That Time of Year Again

It's time for the local library's summer reading program.  This means the kids will be getting gift certificates to Home Town Buffet. Ok....be strong....don't cave to temptation....

A Day in the Life of Baby

This was Baby at 11:00 this morning.


He must have had a late night because he never falls asleep at this hour, much less on my lap.

Then he woke up, and got a hold of my drink.

Notice the empty bottle (it was half full when I left it).
Notice the variety of Vitamin Water that it is (revive?!?)

This was Baby 10 minutes ago
He got into my pantry, pulled out the vacuum cleaner, plugged it in and started cleaning.
And then this.

Ok, I put him up to the dish washing, but I do have a bathroom that needs cleaning...

Those Funny Russians

What happens after one too many vodkas....

I Can Dream, Can't I?

It's 70 degrees here in Lil' Rhody. There are fluffy white clouds in the beautiful blue sky so I said to myself, "We need to be outside!" And I thought, it's been at least a year since we've been on a picnic so I told the kids, "Let's go to the park!" There's a large and lovely playground near us that's in a very nice park with plenty of grassy areas perfect for a picnic on a beautiful day. I threw some sandwich fixin's in a bag and off we went, smiles on our faces.

Visions of my lovely picnic with my charming kids came crashing down when the reality of my situation hit. I have boys. Three little boys. Now my boys, alone, individually, are wonderful, sweet and charming (ok, I'm exaggerating a bit with Baby). Together however, they are more rambunctious than chihuahuas on speed.

After climbing and touching everything that could be climbed and touched and terrorizing every other kid at the playground, we went to our picnic area so I could make lunch start my non-stop litany of
don'tthrowthatstonedon'tthowthatstickwhere'syourbrotherdon'tthrowthatdirteither
~quick breath~
leavethesquirrelalonewhere'syourbrotherstoprollingaroundinthemudgetoutoftheparkinglot
~hurry make sandwich ~ whereisyourbrotherIsaidputthatstickdowncomeherecomehereCOMEHERE!

Now we are home, the little boys are napping, and I'm exhausted. And I remember why it's been a year since our last picnic.

I Wanted to Eat My Flesh

In honor of Lori's post about awkward meals the other day, I want to make her feel better by sharing a dinner party experience I had.

When we were first married, my husband and I went to a small church in Dartmouth, MA (well, most churches in New England are small). I guess we looked like lost puppies because one Easter, this family took pity on us and invited us over to their house for Easter dinner that evening. The next year, I decided I was going to return the favor by inviting them to our house for Easter dinner. I don't know what possessed me to make lasagne for Easter dinner. Anyway, I thought I was being real clever by making the lasagne the Saturday night before and putting it in the refrigerator. I figured that way, as soon as we returned from church, I would just pop that baby in the oven, and we'd have a nice hot meal in no time. Did I mention that we lived 30 minutes from the church? This might not mean too much to most of you, but for you New Englanders out there, you're thinking, "Why did you attend a church soooo far away?"

So this lovely family follows us home from church, I put the cold lasagne in the oven and we sit at my kitchen table and wait. And wait. And wait. Did I mention that I didn't make any appetizers? When we were nearing the 1 hour mark and the lasagne was still cold, I found a half eaten bag of tortilla chips in my pantry. No dip, no salsa, just plain chips. Finally, about two hours after we got home, and about five hours since anyone had a decent meal, the lasagne was hot. And like a good hostess, I forgot to make a salad or any other side to go with this meal (that was sarcasm). Having barely avoided starvation, we finally ate the lasagne. Suffice to say, it was quite an uncomfortable dinner party for all. But God has a sense of humor. I know this because the family's name was Donner.

How Sweet is That?

Nothing warms my heart like seeing my little baby try to be like his daddy.

Yes, that is a basket on Baby's head.

Week End Fun

I am your average housewife. I am mother to five children whom I home school. I like to make sure a hot dinner is ready when my husband gets home from work. Because I like to support him in his endeavors, I took our children to an event at our church that he helped organize. It's called GearFest. It's an annual Father's Day event where all sorts of cars, truck, motorcycles and heavy equipment are bought in for dads and kids to climb on, look at, explore, etc. I was walking around, keeping an eye on my kids, admiring my husband's accomplishments when I saw my friend's car. A BMW M Convertible Roadster. "Would you like to drive it?" he said. "Sure," I thought, "it'd be fun." So me and my 10 year old got in. We buckled up and started the engine and...Oooo. Mild mannered housewife no more. I was in control of six cylinders of automotive love. Yeah baby. I went out on the road and opened that bad boy up. After tearing up the back roads a bit, we returned to the event, I parked the car, gathered my children. And SMILED.

Help!

Normally on Frump Free Fridays, I am throwing my two cents out there regarding frump fighting but today, I lay myself bare friends. Be gentle. This time, I am asking for help. ~Bo Hunkmeister looks shocked~ It's about my hair.





This is Me.

This is MyHair.















MyHair, at times, seems like a 6th child (high maintenance, can be fussy, gets in my way a lot, etc.). I have a love/hate relationship with MyHair. Bo Hunkmeister likes it. A lot. So I like it too. Yet, I don't like MyHair because it takes a good two hours to dry. MyHair is a pain to deal with during the heat of summer. MyHair gets in my face. If I pull it back so it doesn't get in my face, I get the halo of frizzies. And I won't even start on the rant about static during the winter.

My biggest issue though with MyHair, is that I've been wearing it in the same frumpy way since, oh high school. For example:

















And these photos are from the past six months. There are many, many more like 'em.





Sometime, when it's too hot I put it up like this:











But that's the extent of my hair creativity. So what I need from you, my internet friends, is suggestions for change. Keep in mind, I have five active children all under the age of 10 so I need something very low maintenance. Did you get that? Very Low Maintenance. And nothing too drastic (a la Posh Spice) because I don't want Bo Hunkmeister to be mournful for weeks on end. I'm looking forward to your creative comments and extend a heartfelt advance thank you to my frump fighting sisters.

(By the way, the photos of me and MyHair were taken by my 10 year old daughter. She took some really good photos on our RV trip. If anyone is looking for a wedding photographer on the cheap, give me a call.)

Bo Hunkmeister Found This For Me

Is it me or what? This is why I love Bo.

A Solution for Us Common Folk

I know many of you, since reading my Posh Spice post, have been wondering, "How much time does the Domestic Goddess have on her hands?" or "Who's watching her darling babies while she trolls the web?" or "Where can I get my hands on an overpriced, bulky Birkin Bag?" Well, I have the answer for that last question. You can rent, yes rent, your very own Birkin bag from Bag, Borrow or Steal. If you're fashion conscious but budget minded, you can rent instead of owning. For only $1,632 a week. Why that's just $233 a day! Less than $10 an hour! And to think I was going to sell off a few of my kiddies so I could buy a Birkin like Posh...

Paris Hilton and the End Times

Some people see certain world events as signs that the end times are near. Events such as war, earthquakes, tsunamis, etc. I see things like "Paris Hilton's My New BFF (Best Friends Forever)" and I know for certain God is in heaven saying, "I have had it with the lack of imagination! And people prostituting themselves for five minutes of notoriety! Call out the hell fire and brimstone!" Ok, enough blaspheming.

It has come to my attention that MTV, that bastion of quality broadcasting, has a new show in which 20 or so young people "compete" to be Paris Hilton's new best friend. Initially, I was just going to unleash the snarky hounds of hell and mock Paris and all that she is, but I thought, that's not what a nice Domestic Goddess would do. Then, as I cleaned up the pancake syrup that my son spilled all over the floor, wall and table, it occurred to me that I have a few qualities that might make me a perfect BFF for my home girl Paris.

1. I already own a pair of Manolo Blahniks (got 'em at Savers for $6.00!)
2. I've been to Paris, as in France
3. I have a cute entourage, my kids. This is valuable on a couple of levels; it’s always good to look like you have lots of friends; with my kiddos, there's always adventure and when you get into that next media hot spot for a poorly made video, ask any politician, a photo op with a bunch of cute kids does wonders.
4. I brine my chicken. No really, Paris, you have no idea how important this is.
5. I love sushi
6. I'm use to being up at 3:00 am with whiney kids
7. I already have a terribly sexy hubby, so I won't be stealing your boyfriend ('cause, you know, like everyone knows men find petite middle aged women with five kids hawt!)

So Paris, girlfriend, give me a call!

Keepin' It Real

Baby has a tendency to get into a lot of things. I mean, a lot. I mean if something is broken or missing, you can count on it being Baby's fault.
We're trying to toilet train Baby today. Which means, while he started the day in a t-shirt and underpants, he is now buck naked. So I hear Baby fussing in the bathroom. "Ooo!" I say to myself, "Maybe he's trying to go on the potty and he needs his mother's help!" I go in to find Baby has gotten into my supply of sanitary products and is now trying to get the adhesive pad off of his little boy parts. Being the mom that I am, I blog about it.

You know who I've been thinking about lately?

Posh Spice.

Yes, I know, it makes no sense to me either. And don't send comments about how "she might be famous but you're far more blessed." This I know. Truly. But I have to admit, I like how she's so put together every time she's seen. I'd like to spend a day in her glamazon shoes with her wardrobe. She can keep the gi-huge-ic sunglasses though. Did I mention the shoes?

I like the fact that she's been married since 1997. In La La Land, that's a looooonnnngg time. She's also got three kids and they haven't been taken from her yet. That's another major accomplishment in La La Land (my source: People Magazine On-Line - the common man's Wikipedia). You know, she dated Corey Haim in 1995. I wonder if he lies awake at night thinking, "I should have never told her her thighs were fat."

I know she looks like a Barbie doll but if I looked like that after birthin' three kids, I'd probably flaunt it too. Yes, I also know she's had "work" done. As Amy from Milkbreath & Margaritas said, "Her boobs are younger than most of the rest of her body and just a tad out of proportion to her size, which is minus 2."

Much has been said about her constant pout. I think that's part of the branding. If I had 250+ pictures of me on People.com, I think I'd be pouty too.

Supposedly she's got 100 of these Hermes Birkin bags. They start at $4,000. I don't understand. Someone please enlighten me. I know they're hand made but unless they come with a gold bar in the bottom, I fail to see the justification for the price. I'm not sure why a petite person like Posh carries such big bags. It's not like she has to lug around diapers and wipes. On the other hand, she has three boys and boys can get messy, so maybe she needs a big bag for the change of clothes?

Next post I'll try to write about something more relevant. Like why I'm considering changing my name to Domestic Spice.

~Sigh~

To my adoring fans -all six of you- I'm sorry I haven't blogged in a while.

I've been...sad



So......sad



"Why are you sad?" the adoring public asks, "When you have a hunky husband, five cuter than all git-out kiddies and a level of fabulosity few have met? (yep, still off the meds)"

Because I'm suffering from....

PAFRVTSD Syndrome

(Post Awfully Fun RV Trip Syndrome Disorder)

"Gasp! What is this horrible affliction?" you ask.

It's what happens when you have a fun time on the road doing nothing but watching the scenery go by, drinking frappuccinos, eating beef jerky and then suddenly you're back home having to do school work, laundry and telling the kids for the umpteenth time that they cannot watch a video.


~sigh~


No really, I'll be fine.

It's ok.

I'll find something to write about soon.

I think.


~long sigh~


(read about the trip here)

Where Is the Domestic Goddess?

Here!

Why I Love Savers Thrift Store

Velvet jacket with gold sequin detailing: $3.99






Red corset: $6.99







Knee high leather boots with silver buckle: $9.99








Kickin' pirate outfit for the next homeschooling conference:


Priceless




Still Fightin' the Frump with Fussy

Yeeeaaahh Baby

Is this how rock stars start?

Mother's Day, part III

I got bling for Mother's Day. Here's some pictures Princess Buttercup took of me, stylin'










On the way back from church, I turned up the dance music a little too loud in the car. When some of the kiddos complained, Bo Hunkmeister asked incredulously, "With googlie eye earrings, how can you not get your freak on?" This is why I love him.

Mother's Day, part II

After having a wonderful breakfast in bed, served by the more wonderful Bo Hunkmeister, the children gathered to give me their Mother's Day presents.

My eldest boy: "Open the card first Mom."
Me: "Okay, son"
My eldest boy: "It's the thing sticking our of the bag, Mom."
Me: "Okay, son"
My eldest boy: "Right there on the side of the bag, Mom."
Me: "Okay, son" (did I mention the bag is only 5"x3"?)
Me: "I see the card, dear."

Princess Buttercup: "My gift is I want to take you out to lunch, Mom."
Me: "That's very sweet of you dear, but aren't you trying to save up for sports camp?"
Princess Buttercup: "Mother's Day is more important than sports camp, Mom."
Me: ~sniffle, sniffle, lump in throat~ "How very kind of you, but I'm just happy that you've managed to save up $26. When I was your age I was lucky if I managed to save a dollar."
Princess Buttercup: "Well, a dollar bought a lot more when you were a kid."
Me: "I'm not that old, darling."

Linky Link!

I initially was going to blog about our upcoming road trip here on the Domestic Goddess. I had visions of posting witty and clever things every day, making profound statements and astute observations about our wonderful country, parlaying that into a book deal and then a movie starring Brad and Angie as me and the hubs; more likely Mel Gibson and Phyllis Diller, but I digress.

Anyway, the ever talented Bo Hunkmeister has created a site for our road trip, so me, Bo and perhaps even a kiddo or two (or three or four) will all blog so you can enjoy our trip from a few different perspectives (Bo: This is great, what an adventure! Me: Where the heck is the Dunkin' Donuts?!?). So instead of coming here for your daily dose of Domestic Goddess snarkiness, go here: The Kerr Family Road Trip. Any publishing reps or movie executives can contact me through this site or the other one. Start microwavin' the popcorn!

Mother's Day

Its that time of year again! That wonderful day when we moms can say, "I ain't doin' nuthin' today!"
In case you're at a loss as to what to get me, I've compiled a handy gift list for you.


1.) A Segway. Yeah, I know they're expensive but I rode one of these in North Carolina and they are FUN! Wicked fun as they say here in New England. If I can get the manufacturer to attach a vacuum cleaner accessory to it, my house would be cleaned on a daily basis rather... than....once... every three.....months....


2.) A Self Cleaning Kitchen Floor. This is in case the Segway doesn't work out. I need something or someone to deal with the near constant crumbs/dirt/cereal/small children that litter my kitchen floor. Don't tell me to get a Roomba. The amount of stuff on our floor would choke that poor little machine.

3.) A Micro Chip Sensor for Hand Lotion Pumps. This sensor will disable the pump from dispensing large amounts of whatever, whenever Baby touches it.

4.) A Decaf Caramel Latte. Every Day. Iced in the summer, please.

5.) A Personal Servant. Bo Hunkmeister, while being a great husband, has informed me that his boss will not pay him to be my personal cabana boy. In light of this unfortunate piece of information, I want the Honda Asimo personal robot.

"This way for your massage, oh Domestic Goddess"

6.) Two Extra Hours in My Day. I know that this is the one thing everyone wants but I'm really behind in my reading list of 50 or so books and I want to catch up before any more are published.

7.) A Dinner-ator. This handy device will assemble all the ingredients necessary for a delicious, healthy dinner and then gently beep at 5:00 pm to remind me to put it all together. All for less than $5.00 a night.

Well I think that's a good start. Let me know if you have questions.

Taking to the Road

Things here are buzzing at Casa Diva. In two weeks time, we are taking off on a road trip to Oklahoma in a RV and we're all quite excited. Part of this trip is a desire to visit some relatives and being unable to fly seven of us out there (and no, the post office won't take the kids parcel post, but thanks for asking). The other reason is fulfilling part of the Bo Hunkmeister's dream of touring the U.S. in an RV. I think it makes a marriage stronger when the spouses can help each other to pursue their dreams. Wait 'til Bo finds out my dreams - here's a hint: lattes, books and foot rubs!

Anyway, preparing for such an undertaking takes a lot more planning than I thought. After all, I'll have five kids locked in a 6'x12' space for six hours a day. I've planned out meals and snacks, Bo has planned the stops and I've started to gather toys, books, treats, etc. Then I started thinking, just how much entertainment am I responsible for? I'm afraid my kids have gotten a little too dependent on someone entertaining them. I know this is happening because I get more "I'm bored" or "can I play a video game?" than not.

I'm going to try to write a daily log of our trip here. I'm doing this to keep the relatives informed ("Yes officer, we last heard from them here.") and to make the rest of you grateful you're not as insane as me. Or maybe not.

Should I Be Concerned?

As I was dressing Baby this morning (the morning after the baby powder incident), he stands up, hugs me and pats me on the back.  Then he grabs my head with both hands and plants a kiss straight on my lips.  At first I thought, "How cute!"  Then I realized that Baby just acted out the scene where Michael Corleone kisses Fredo before he has Fredo whacked.  Hmmmmm..... Thankfully, I don't own any horses.

SOMEONE IS NOT PRAYING

Bo Hunkmeister is away this weekend doing piratey things. Now I'm not one to fuss and whine about the hubby going off and leaving me to care for the kiddies by myself. After all, I birthed five of 'em, two via section, so I think I can handle the little critters. But its always wise to make sure the Big Guy upstairs has got your back so I asked my bible study group to keep me in their prayers this weekend. OBVIOUSLY, someone is not cooperating.

This morning, I asked the kiddos to keep an eye on baby while I made some cookies. I didn't want to just turn on the TV because good mommies don't just deposit their kids in front of the electronic baby sitter. That just rots their minds, right?

So, Princess Git Er Done had the great idea of putting Baby in his room and shutting the door (all praises to God that Baby has not learned to work a door knob....yet). Apparently, this did not please Baby. NOT FIVE MINUTES LATER, Princess G.E.D. checked on Baby and this is what she found.

Note the clothes strewn on the floor. Note the window shade pulled down on the bed. And that's not some Martha Stewart like fancy wall treatment, that's baby powder.

Note the open drawers. They used to be full of clothes (I believe the clothes on the floor in the above picture). Note how Baby evenly spread the powder on top of the dresser (boy got skills).

Note the abstract art on the walls. Yes, you guessed it, Baby got up on top of the dresser to spread powder on the walls.

Now some of you will remember that my girls did something similar when they were four and two. Realize that Baby did more damage by himself and in less time. When we first walked into the room, the air was so thick with baby powder that me and the remaining four kids could not breathe. But Baby was still dancing. This only proves my point that this kid is an alien.

Princess Buttercup, ever the optimist, tried to put a good spin on things (or get her Mom to stop muttering bad words under her breath) and said, "Well, he certainly keeps us on our toes doesn't he?" I replied, "Yes, he does." I was thinking, "My toes are !@#$% sore!!!"

But I still praise God because I had my other four who worked diligently with me for more than an hour to get the room clean. And nap time is in less than an hour. And I know someone out there will buy me a margarita, right?

Now excuse me, I'm going to turn on the TV and rot Baby's brain because there's a pint of Haagen Dazs in the freezer right now with my name on it.

Arrrgh!! Pirates!

Be sure to check out the piratey happenings at Smith's Castle this weekend. The activities are Saturday and Sunday from noon to 4:00 pm. The rest of the time, the guys just shoot things.

Here's Bo Hunkmeister, pirate-style ~swoon~

Fighting the Homeschool Frump

Last weekend, Bo Hunkmeister and I went to a regional home schooling conference. I decided to have some fun with the stereo-type that all of us home schooling mommies run around in denim jumpers. So I wore my pleather pants. FYI - pleather is leather for those of us on a budget.
As an added incentive, there was a bet with a friend that if I wore them, I'd get a latte. I love caramel lattes. And my birthday is in May. (that's a hint to all you folks reading early in the morning!)

So here's a picture of me at the conference. I'm posing with my fellow attendee and Home Schooling Mom Extraordinaire Maria (holla back girl!). The reason I have the conference brochure in front of me is for proof that I was IN the conference and not just taking a picture at some random gathering. It was a bit difficult finding a shirt that made sense with the pants but didn't make me look tarty. I was willing to go up against some stereotypes however I didn't want to give those wonderful Mennonite folks a reason to pray too fervently. While hard to see, I had some lovely earrings to go with the outfit courtesy of Mrs. Fusspants. I'd like to say it was a coincidence that I won them just before the conference but I don't believe in coincidences. Is it blasphemous to think God condoned me wearing pleather? Of course what tied the whole thing together was the shoes. (You rock, Joy!)

However, while stylish, I have to say that, in hind sight, the denim jumper does makes sense for the following reasons:
1. it's comfy - after all, you're not wearing pants
2. it doesn't wrinkle - linen is stylish but the look is ruined the first time you sit down
3. it's eminently washable - those margarita stains come out after one wash!

In closing, I'd like to say home schooling is no longer just for crazed religious zealots any more and to those of you who owe me a latte (and you know who you are) pay up!

I am a Victim

I'm such a marketing victim.

Those suits on Madison Avenue (is that term still used?) must have chumps like me in mind when they create an ad campaign. For example, the movie Iron Man is opening soon so of course, Burger King has the merchandise tie in.

Now I like Iron Man. Besides a cool Ozzy Osborne song (are you shocked I know that?), I have fond memories of my brother trying to re-create the Iron Man costume for Halloween (sorry I had to out you there, Ken) (can you tell I love parentheses?) (it's because I have too much to say).

So here we are in Burger King and they have the happy meal display. I normally don't do happy meals because the frugal, homeschooling mother of five that I am, I am certain I can come out ahead if I order separate items and have the kiddies drink milk at home. But I see the Iron Man stuff. Action Figures! Sun Glasses! We're going on a road trip soon, we need cool new toys! Sunglasses, too! So I order five happy meals. And I end up with five cheap, lead infused pieces of plastic from China that lose their appeal in about two minutes ~sigh~

When will I learn?

A Lovely Day at the Park

Like a good mommy, I gathered up the kiddos and took them to the local park to play. My two daughters and my son got on this jungle gym in the shape of a truck. Number two daughter put herself in the driver's seat with my son next to her and yelled across the park to me, "Hey Mom, get in the truck, we need a load!" Kids....aren't they cute?

Stylin' in Roe Die-lin'

As I have mentioned, I have been lately spending waaaay too much time at Mrs. Fussypant's blog (Mom? Can we eat today? Mom? Baby's playing with knives again! Mom? You haven't moved from in front of the computer for three hours!) I entered the blog's Caption Contest and won a lovely pair of earring made by Mrs. Fussypants herself!

Do I look lovely or what? Not only do they look beautiful but they will go with the leather pants I was going to wear to the homeschooling conference in 2 weeks. All I need are some shoes. Any suggestions? They must be comfortable to walk around ALL DAY in. Don't suggest high heels of any sort because, after five kids, I'm done being a fashion victim. If you want a pair of equally fashionable earrings go here.


Honestly Fussy, not fuh nuthin', at a RISD Art Sale, these babies could go for $40. Easy.

By the way, taking a picture of yourself in the bathroom mirror is a lot harder than you think. Hubby had to take these for me. Please congratulate me on not resorting to Photoshop to take out the blemishes (my souvenir of a case of shingles).

Fight the Frump From Within

My dear friend Gail recently turned me onto a great blog "Mrs. Fussypants Guide to Life" which I have been reading diligently. If only I could apply that diligence to say...schooling the kids.....eating right....exercising....silly things like that. But I digress...

Anyway, Fussy has a great Friday feature called "Fight the Frump" and I couldn’t agree with her more. Just because you had only four hours of sleep, the baby is fussy and you have constant schmutz on you, that doesn't mean you shouldn't look your best. Studies have shown that (don't you just love that phrase? what study? by who? when?) when you dress well, you feel better about yourself and what mom doesn't want to feel better about herself?

Just like the saying 'Beauty comes from within', so does frumpiness. That's right ladies, I'm talking about your unmentionables, your support system, your undies!

At this point, I'm going to ask all men and people related to me to find another blog lest I embarrass them or me.

Now where was I? Oh yes. Honey, if you're wearing the underpants that go up to your ribs (something that big can't possibly be called panties) and a bra with more fabric than the shirt you have on, you're going to feel frumpy. If you have something pretty and lacey underneath, you'll feel pretty, and some of that countenance will be evident even when cleaning up the juice spills. You need to get yourself something that's relatively new, perhaps with some color and definitely with elastic that works! Now I'm not saying you have to go to Victoria's Secret and drop loads of cash for...well...what amounts to 12" of very thin ribbon. But get something you can afford that you can look at and say "Gee, that's pretty!" versus "Hey, it's on sale!" Start being stylish from the get-go 'cause girlfriend, you are worth it!

Public Service Announcement #2

You will never hear me say that I'm any expert on child rearing. I know the nanosecond I say that, my kids will eagerly show how I'm not. I have, however, realized a few things over my 10 years of 5 kids and one is that the baby industry preys on hormonal pregnant ladies. More than half of the stuff sold in Babies R Us is not necessary. If you take a gander at the book Material World: A Global Family Portrait by Peter Menzel, you might think it was closer to 95%. Anyway, my neighbors are expecting their first and as per American custom, registered at Make Money Like Fiends Babies R Us. I've decided to help them out with my own list of necessary baby items.

Things you don't need:

1. A nursing cover. You say you're modest now but all modesty will leave after your labor experience. Modesty is a luxury for men and single women who don't go to their doctors regularly, and nosey people should mind their own business!

2. Shopping cart seat covers. Once you see your kid eat cheerios off the floor, you'll realize this was in vain. Besides, it's one more thing to wash when you get home.

3. Baby bath tub. The little nubber will sit calmly in this for about a week and then realize that splashing is lots of fun. You'll be left with an even bigger mess than before.

4. Gi-huge-ic plastic diaper bags in pastel colors with cartoon characters. You do want your husband to change the baby while you're both out, yes? Get something that won't emasculate him on the way to the changing area.

5. Baby bath towels with the hoods. It is unlikely a baby will get pneumonia in the five minutes between getting out of the bath and getting into their fleece jammies. Your own lovely bath towels work just fine.

6. Small bibs. What delusional human being thought that babies would limit their meal time mess to a 6"x6" area on their chests? You want these from IKEA. The only thing missing is a hood.

Things you do need:

1. Telekinetic powers or the Honda Asimo robot. Without fail, as soon as you sit down to nurse, the phone or door bell will ring, you'll get a runny nose, and/or be insanely thirsty and you will have nothing to help you. While Asimo is cool, I think the telekinetic powers might be cheaper.

2. Mini Van. The ability to buckle in Precious without your tush hanging out in the rain is priceless. If you think you won't look cool in a mini van, just slap some flames on the hood and you'll be the envy of the neighbors. No really, just ask ours.

3. A stroller that closes up in one try. This saves on having to un-teach the kids all those swear words which they will gladly repeat in front of your mom.

4. A multi surface steam cleaner and a case of Clorox sanitizing wipes. Potty training? Stomach bug? Need I say more?

5. A shot gun. Its 6:00 am. You've just gotten Junior back to sleep after two hours of crying (yours and his) and you collapse into your bed. Then a car alarm goes off or someone honks for his morning coworker. You'll definitely want a shot gun and I know any cop with kids will understand.

6. A gift certificate to Old Navy. This is for mom to buy twelve of those stylish, yet eminently washable tops. I've gone through four shirts in a day with a burpy baby, and that's with trying to ignore the small stains.

So there you have it folks. You seasoned moms, if you have a minute to spare (Bwah, ha, ha!!) what are your suggestions?

More Mariah Moments

I've been having quite a laugh with everyone's Mariah moment. I'm kind of thinkin' I should send some of these to her but she's in Paris (is there e-mail in Paris or is that too American?)

A good friend of mine in college graduated with Debbie Gibson, so we got to commiserate from time to time. Also in college, I mentioned that I had gone to school with her, and two women in the room asked me where, and when I said Harborfields, they asked if I knew Rachel Fenderson (they had played basketball with her)... Someone who was in a show with me found out about my connection, and the very next thing he said was, "So, was she a bitch in high school?" (This guy once had Jim Breuer walk all over his laundry, which he had dropped on the sidewalk, and he then proceeded to tell him off, adding, "and you sucked when you were on SNL!" - much to the amusement of the female SNL costar walking with him.).

But you should all check out this past week's episode from the NPR show "Wait, Wait... Don't Tell Me":
http://www.npr.org/templates/rundowns/rundown.php?prgId=35&prgDate=03-29-2008&view=storyviewand click on the "Listen to show" link at the top. If you don't want to listen to the full show, just fast forward to the Bluff the Listener segment (about 11-12 minutes in). I think you'll like it. --Dennis

(Listen to the NPR bit and then you can be in the know about the following)

Here is a fierce grizzly bear in the wild.










Studies have shown that soft soothing music can turn even the wildest beast docile.

A little "Vision of Love" has turned our fierce bear into a more loving, peaceful member of the planet









In 1992 (pre-boob job [I'm talking about Mariah, not me]), I was student-teaching in the Boston Public Schools. There was a 16-year-old student in choir who was smart yet annoying (I heard every day about her "hanging out" with the guys from New Kids...yeah, I wouldn't have bragged about it either). Anyhoo, she was a huge Mariah fan.

One day she came into class & excitedly showed me her latest purchase, a Mariah songbook. She was going to learn every last one of those songs on the piano. The next day, she called me over to the piano - "Miss! Miss!" (They never used names, only "Miss" or "Mr.".) She played the first 4 bars of the first song. Then she played the first 4 bars of the next song. After a few songs, she said, "Oh, my God! They all sound the same!" It was a very gratifying moment. --Zoe

(In all fairness Zoe, even Mozart sounds a little repetitive sometimes....)

Well, that's all for now.

Contact Your Congressman

There is very important legislation that needs to be passed. Please read the following carefully and call your Congressboy today!

A BILL
THE CAR ALARM RELIEF ACT

Purpose: To encourage people with hoopty cars to be considerate of others.

BE IT ENACTED BY THE LEGISLATURE OF THE STATE OF RHODE ISLAND:

Section 1: WHEREAS; if your car alarm has been making that exceedingly irritating noise for more than 5 minutes, AND you are nowhere within ear-shot of your car, WHICH means that it can't be that important to you anyway, I have the right to shoot your car.

Section 2: WHEREAS; if your car alarm goes off, AND if your car is more than 5 years old, AND is made by Pontiac or GMC, I have the right to shoot your car and slap you in the face when you DO show up for having a car alarm on a car that no one wants to steal in the first place.

Section 3: WHEREAS; if your car alarm goes off after 11:00 pm, I have the right to shoot your car immediately, AND slap you silly when you show up for waking me up with your @#$% car alarm.

I would have posted this yesterday (April 1) but I didn't want anyone to think I was joking.

Public Service Announcement

If you love your family and want only the best for them you will brine your chicken. What am I talking about? Every time you have a recipe that calls for boneless, skinless chicken breast, first soak the chicken in the below brine for 20 minutes and proceed as usual. No more tough dry chicken for your dear ones. You can thank me tonight after dinner.

Dissolve 1/2 cup kosher salt and 1/2 cup sugar in 4 cups of water in a non-reactive bowl. This amount is good for 1 pound of chicken.

Wow, three posts in a day. Can you tell I'm blowing off schooling the kids?

PriceRite, We Hardly Knew Ye

Here in the 'hood we have a lovely, little known secret to frugal living - PriceRite. Some people consider it a little on the dicey side, what with all the funky ethnic foods, unfamiliar brands and the some what dingy interior, but I kind of like it. For one thing, despite all the ethnic foods and teenage Latinos and African Americans stocking the shelves, they play Journey on the PA! I even heard Duran Duran. They play the soundtrack of my generation! This being Rhode Island, I bet I went to high school with the store manager.

I love when I walk in to PriceRite, there's a greeter. If you hang around long enough, she'll start a Bible study right there in the doorway. (Wal Mart has a door greeter too but not Nordstrom's or Whole Foods. Hmmm, do higher income people not need a "Hey, How ya doin'?"). All the Latina moms enter and immediately grab fifty produce bags and start filling them up. Meanwhile, the produce in Stop N Shop looks like it hasn't been touched in ages.

And the bargins! For example:

At Whole Foods, "Robert, can you pass the $4.99 Farmland Nitrite Free Bacon?"
At PriceRite, "Ai, chica, di me este $2.99 Farmland Nitrite Free Bacon!"

At Stop n Shop, a display of dried cornhusks in the "Food of the World" section for $3.99 each.
At PriceRite, cornhusks thrown in a large bin with $.99 SALE! sign stuck on top.

and my personal favorite - Nutella!
Stop N Shop $3.69
PriceRite $1.99

Not only good deals but fun foods. No where else in the city can you get Chocolate Gelatin (gelatin, not pudding. Maria, Gail, give me a shout out on this) or Chubby Soda in sorrel! or cotton candy! By the way, Chubby Soda has 38 grams of sugar per serving; coke has 27, orange juice is 30, just to give you a comparison.

All this to say, I love PriceRite. Dicey, edgy, Goya bargain' filled PriceRite. So imagine my horror when I went into their new store.

They relocated from the heart of Olney-Falujah to the old Shaw's on Atwells. A brand new, clean building. Next to a Staples. Already I was nervous.

The first thing I saw when I walked in was - a coffee counter! A pseudo-cafe just like Whole Foods. They were selling espresso! and lattes! and little pastries! Oh the humanity! And it didn't stop there. I saw a girl stacking baguettes into a bin. Baguettes?!? WT???!~ Not even Goya baguettes! And sample tables! Fresh mozzarella! Where's the dingy? Where's the edgy? THEY'VE GONE MAINSTREAM!

Oh PriceRite, you broke my heart.

Seperated At Birth?

My dear friend Gail, having recently read my "Your Mariah Moment", asked for clarification on Ken's moment. She asked, "Sheila Egan? would that be Sheila E? I am so not into pop culture anymore it is sad." Well, to enlighten Gail and perhaps a few others not in the know, here's a guide to Sheilas:


This is Sheila Margaret Egan. Stylish gal, quick wit, lovely Irish lass.

This is Sheila E (E for Escovedo). Stylish latina, unknown wit, diva percussionist

Hope this clarifies things for y'all.

Your Mariah Moment

For all you just surfing by on the internet (and by the way, just how did you get here?), this post may or may not have any interest to you. Some of us lucky folk had the opportunity to go to school with someone famous. Some times this bit o'trivia plays into our lives, so I asked some friends from high school to share if it has.

There were some teenagers who lived across the street from me and they were at my house discussing their favorite singers. I'd had previously shown them my year book with dear M's picture (earnin' me some street cred). One of the girls then said to me,"My friend thinks Mariah is in her 30's but I told her no, Mariah's got to be older because Ms. Kerr went to school with her and Ms. Kerr is really old." --that's my story

My Mariah moment happens every so often at work. Someone will talk about the versatility of her voice or how she can be poppy, bluesy or torch in her style of singing that she must have been a real star in her high school chorus - I happily tell them that we are on the same page in the year book and that she was actually not in choir, but I was. My friend Hector's reaction was this "She got fame, fortune and all the body money can buy and you, well you got us." 'Nuf said. --Lisa

(remember Lisa, no amount of fame or fortune can buy you talented snarky friends)

I help coach two softball teams. One of the girls on the older team loves to sing. When she is out of school she is going to try for American Idol. My husband, Jorge, said that I knew Mariah, she screamed so loud it was crazy. She wouldn't believe it. I told her I went to school with Mariah and when we were younger she lived down the road from me. She screamed again asked if I saw her any more and then proceeded to call her best friend on the cell phone who also screamed. It was hilarious to see the way she acted.--Karin

(you should have run with it, "Yeah, M and I had coffee the other day.
She said fans who scream loudly make her nauseous.")

One of my college friends used to point me out at parties and say "See that guy--he did Mariah Carey". Of course, then they would actually look a little bit closer at me and no one ever believed him.--John

(you're a quality guy for not being crude about it.)

As a teacher of high school students I have occasionally played the "Mariah Card" but usually only after a student brings her up. They never believe me and I misplaced my yearbook sometime in the 90's but I still have the impressive middle school yearbook with a young Mariah picture for verification. Oh, and my little sister went to her concert at the Middle school.--Erika

My best story is, after hearing her on the radio for a few months after her first single hit, my sister Betsy called me and said "didn't this girl used to play at our house?" And it is sad, but true. --Brenda

(did you teach her to bake, too?)

My Mariah moment was in 1991-2 after I decided to travel the world to see new and different cultures, get away from the crass Americans, etc., etc., and in my first stop outside the U.S., - Hyvinkka, Finland, I think - I walked into the house past my host brother's room, and there was a HUGE poster of Mariah on the wall. So much for getting away from it all...--Christine

My memorable story is all about the response. I was living in St. Louis, Misery (alt. spelling Missouri) for several years and was talking with a friend I had met out there. We had been friends for a couple of years before the Mariah topic somehow came up one night. When I mentioned that I had gone to high school with Mariah he started with the typical response, "Really?", but quickly followed it with a much cooler response, "Do you know Sheila Egan?"

Turns out my friend had dated Sheila for a while in college. Not only was Sheila in our class, but she and I grew up across the street from each other. So really this is more of a small world story than a Mariah story. --Ken

I'll post more when they come in.
By the way, not as many people seem to care about going to school with Andi Pukke ( www.assetprotectionbook.com/ftc_memorandum_29Mar05.pdf.) Anyone up for some treasure hunting in the Cook Islands? Or Nevis? Where is Nevis?

Caption Contest

This is Baby



You might know him from

"Makin' Pies for Becky"
or
"Act Now! Limited Special Offer!"
or
"Go RVing!" (he was the one who terrorized the hamster)

Baby is God's loving way of helping me develop

patience
endurance
stamina
a sense of humor
a greater appreciation for my other kids
a taste for martinis

But I digress.

The real point of this post is a Caption Contest. Send in your entries for a caption for this photo and you could win ....
(no, not Baby because no one would enter)

A Coffee Cake!


Now go be creative while Mommy has a drink

WHAT ABOUT MY NEEDS?!?

I need a Sock-a-Nator. Here's what a Sock-a-Nator will do:

*It will go through my house every night and pick up the 2,000 or so socks that my five kids leave here and yond.

*The Sock-a-Nator will be able to tell 1. which socks were truly worn and 2. which were carried downstairs with the intent of being worn but then carelessly left on the floor. The Sock-a-Nator will then administer a sound thrashing to the owners of the second category.

*The Sock-a-Nator will wash the socks, match them up and put them in the appropriate drawer.

*Upon hearing the cry, "Moooommm!!!, I don't have any socks!" the Sock-a-Nator will automatically redirect the child to their sock drawer or their laundry that needs to be put in the washing machine. The Sock-a-Nator will also give Mom a quick back rub lest she explodes from hearing "Moooommm!!!, I (fill in the blank)!!" for the umpteenth time that day.

*The Sock-a-Nator will find a true and noble use for the orphaned single socks so Mom doesn't feel guilty about throwing away single socks.

*The Sock-a-Nator will, once per quarter, buy stock in Hanes to recoup money spent on buying socks for a large family. The dividends from said stock (which will rise exponentially because my kids won't stop growing like I've asked them to) will go into a high yield money market account from which Mom will buy stuff from Frederick's of Hollywood so Mom can once again feel like a sexy woman and not the Manic Sock Nazi.

That's not too much to ask for, is it?

Never Eat Flourless Chocolate Torte Before Bed

Now I can't sleep.
I've been reading "A Life in Secrets: Vera Atkins and the Missing Agents of WWII". Then I watched The Bourne Ultimatum. All this spy stuff is cool but I don't think I'd make a good spy.

Agent: "You undercover name is Alice Roberts."
Me: "Can't I be Raven Le Diva?"
Agent: "Will you grow up?!"
Me: "How about Paris Hilton?"

Unfriendly foreign agent: "Tell us what's in the secret file!"
Me: "Nope."
Unfriendly foreign agent: "We'll give you a Caramel Macchiato, a Borders gift card and a foot rub."
Me: "Make that a grande Macchiato and you've got yourself a deal."

Agent: "Where's the secret file?"
Me: "Sorry, Baby got it."
Agent: "What?! The enemy has our file?"
Me: "No, my two year old. He also dropped the surveillance equipment in the toilet with the Polly Pockets. I'm beginning to think he works for the other side."

Agent: "We have a problem in Crazistan!"
Me: "Yeah, well, its 5:30, I've got nothing defrosted for dinner, I'm out of milk and Baby needs a new diaper so don't tell me about your problems!!"

Agent: "We need you to go deep undercover for six weeks in the People's Republic of Uh-oh."
Me: "Can I watch 'The Office' on Thursday?"
Agent: "This is a serious situation."
Me: "But its an all new episode!"

Agent: "The enemy agent is on the move! We've gotta go!"
Me: "Hey, I'm tryin' to blog here, will you stop hassling me?!"

On the Verge of Blasphemy...

I used to think that the reason why Jesus appeared to women first is because it reflected how high God esteemed women. My friend Jen pointed out perhaps another reason Jesus chose women.

What would have happened after Jesus appeared to the men first:
Guy A "Hey did you catch that game last night? It was insane!"
Guy B "Yeah, it was. Hey, speaking of games, did you know Jesus is alive?"
Guy A "No, man, that's awesome! Wanna grab a burger?"
Guy B "Nah"
Guy A "Whatever"

What probably happened after Jesus appeared to Mary Magdalene & the others:
Lady A "Oh my goodness, I just saw the most amazing thing!"
Lady B "Wait, let me call Martha over! Martha, come hear this!"
Lady A "Jesus is alive! I just saw him, walking and alive and I was sooo happy, I cried! By the way, nice sandals!"
Lady B "Thanks! That's amazing you saw Jesus! I'm so jealous of you! How did he look? Was he feeling ok?"
Lady A "Well, like I told Mary and Elizabeth and Esther, he looked just like a normal person only his hair was shiny and his clothes were white!"
Lady B "White clothes? I wonder where he got those from? Did he say anything to you?"
Lady A "Well, no, but the angel said, 'Do not be amazed. You seek Jesus the Nazarene who has been crucified. He was raised. He is not here. See the place where they put Him?' "
Lady B "You didn't tell me there was an angel!"
Lady A "Oh I'm sorry, I guess I'm just too excited. I have to go tell the disciples!"
Lady B "I'm going to tell my sisters and the girls at the market!"

Women...the vastly more effect public alert system.

A Point of Clarification...

I don't want anyone to read the last post and think that I go through my day singing hymns or looking adoringly at the latest mess saying, "Oh, aren't those cherubs of mine just so artistic!!" There is a fair amount of complaining that goes on in Casa de Diva. There have even been a few times where the dear husband says, "If I give you this latte, will you promise not to hurt me?" However, unlike the book I reviewed below, I try to keep the whining to a minimum because of what I said in my last post. I think there is value in relating your troubles to your friends. It is right and proper, as they say, to seek the wisdom and guidance of your peers. But I think discussing your challenges and seeking encouragement and insight is different from publishing an entire book of what's wrong with modern mommy-dom with little discussion of the more important big picture.

Book Review!

Maybe it’s the timing. I recently read Shant "1,001 Nights in Iraq" based on his experience being trapped in Iraq for nine years and eventually getting out alive. Its a fascinating tale of a man stuck in the wrong place at the wrong time. Despite a horrible situation, which he had little control over, he maintained his integrity and honor, facing adversity with dignity.Shant's book ends with his faith intact and his outlook positive.

Then I picked up Trisha Ashworth and Amy Nobile's "I Was a Really Good Mom Before I Had Kids: Reinventing Modern Motherhood" This was a non-stop whine-fest penned by two middle class American moms about how hard it is to raise two kids and I knew I just had to break out the big guns.

Why did I read it? I thought the title was intriguing and it's obviously a topic rather close to home. According to the Amazon blurb, this book is supposed to help today's moms discover why they are 1) not happy, 2) overwhelmed with guilt and 3) faced with such huge expectations. I never had so much trouble getting through a book. For those of you who know me (and hugs to you all), that says something. I think the reason I had such trouble is because I was stopping every other page to yell, "Where the hell did you come up with that idea?"

Now the clever person would have sense enough to stop yelling at an inanimate object and put it down, but not me! I kept hoping that if I pushed through, I'd get to the helpful, insightful, uplifting part. Instead I found such gems as, "I thought having a baby would be like having a pet - oh, this will be cute, we'll be this happy little family." (no, I'm not kidding, it's on p.20) or, "I'm continually running away from my children. I love them but they just drain me. There's a poof of smoke at 2:30 pm when my help arrives and I fly out the door." (p. 30).

So now I've read the entire book, wrote a review on Amazon and am fired up enough to blog ("Yay!" says my friend Gail. "Oh Lordy!" sighs the rest of the crowd)

I think the answer to all the angst in the book is quite possibly the best line published in the English language: "It's not about you." (from The Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren). Allow me to explain.

The authors start with the dedications that read "For (the children); we simply adore you. And for (the husbands), for being what matters most." Then they spend the rest of the book telling us how frustrated they are being moms and how the husbands just don't get it. This seems to me to be a contradiction. How can you have the deep rich relationships without the hard and dirty work that goes with it? That's what makes relationships valuable, the price you had to pay for it.

And who told these ladies that motherhood was about being happy? I love Leo Rosten's quote (its posted on my refrigerator): "I cannot believe that the purpose of life is to be happy. I think the purpose of life is to be useful, to be responsible, to be compassionate. It is, above all to matter, to count, to stand for something, to have made some difference that you lived at all."

Yes, it gets draining: the dirty diapers, the whiney kids, the endless laundry. But the point is that this is the battle for a higher purpose: to be useful and contribute to making someone else's life better.

It would seem from reading this book that a lot of women quoted within do not realize the purpose of children. I don't pretend to have the answer to that question but one thing I do know is that children are not accessories, a check mark in our "List of Things to Do in Life". They are the refineries of the metal that is your character. With the right attitude, you will be a better person for having been a mother. With the wrong attitude, you're just killing time until the next event.

My dear husband, always the voice of reason, said, "Well what book would you suggest?" And that got me to thinking. I really don't have one book to recommend. My ideas about motherhood have been formed from 10 years of experience, reading (both motherhood books and non-motherhood books) and divinely inspired older women. Really, what it comes down to is realizing who God is in my life and what he has planned for me. Knowing what my larger purpose is doesn't make the pee on the floor or the markers on the couch go away (or even make me happy to deal with them) but it does put perspective on the circumstances and helps me cope better with the challenges of raising my five little darlings.

So now I need to be inspired. I'm going to read "The Bielski Brothers" by Peter Duffy. Its about three Jewish brothers, whose own families were taken to concentration camps during WWII, helped over 1,000 Jews (young and old) to escape to the forests of Poland to avoid the Nazis. How can such a depressing topic be inspiring? Because these brothers saw the bigger purpose in their lives, to live beyond themselves and face their challenge without whining.

Internet......sigh.....

Some friends were recently on an episode of Wife Swap. Sufficed to say that ABC has an agenda when they edit the material for the show and my friends did not come out on the upside of this agenda. I knew this going in because I too have some ideas that are somewhat "counter cultural" and have had complete strangers ask me the the darnedest things; "Is home schooling legal?" - would I tell you if it wasn't? Or my personal favorite: "Are all those kids yours? By the same husband?" - if I throw this bone, will you go away?

Anyway, little did I know, ABC has message boards for all these shows, and the virulent attacks on my friends are astounding. I wonder if, brought face to face, these people would have the courage to say the same things to my friends. A lot of the posts are calling for the authorities to intervene. These are the same people who would drive by a homeless person, not bother to vote, and ignore the neighbor next door who's struggling with something. Yet behind the wonderful anonymity of the internet, we can call each other names and accuse each other of egregious things and walk away without consequence. Worst of all, I fell into it myself. I started by merely defending my friends and then started to point out flaws in the other family. We're making judgments about people and the futures of the their children all based on 44 minutes of their lives picked by ABC. We have a multitude of ways to communicate, we are invited to voice our opinions more than ever before, we have opportunities to be heard and all we can do is digress into snipping at each other like a bunch of ....well, idiots. I apologize for my part and hope I can act with more grace and mercy tomorrow.

Act Now! Limited Special Offer!

I have found the way to make millions. I have discovered a procrastination cure. Do you suffer from not vacuuming because you think to yourself, "I'll do that later?" Have you told yourself, "I really don't have time to clean (fill in the blank) now." End all that procrastination with my simple but exciting new non-procrastination program. Here's how it works. You simply have my 18 month old son ("Baby") stay with you for a week and anything you needed to clean or fix will be immediately put to the top of your priority list. For example, up until yesterday, I had been meaning to clean my toilet for a week. In just a few minutes, Baby just walked into the bathroom, threw some stuff in the toilet, stirred it around with the Swiffer mop and left a huge mess that I couldn't ignore. I also wanted to vacuum but thought I'd do it later. When Baby knocked the potted plant onto the floor spilling dirt everywhere, I was forced to put down what I was doing and vacuum. What I had put off for weeks, Baby manage to punt to the front of the To Do list in five minutes! What a fabulous system! But don't just take my word for it, just read these testimonials:

"Before I used the Baby system, I had been wanting to replace my screen door for months. When I got Baby, he immediately sent a large toy through the screen forcing me to go to Home Depot that very afternoon. Thanks Baby!"- Susi Farquahar

"I had been trying to redecorate my house but my many social obligations kept me from accomplishing this. Once Baby was in my house, he used permanent marker on my couch, piddled on my rugs and pulled down my curtains. As I write this the designer is on his way over to discuss new color schemes! I plan to tell all my friends about this great system!"
- Raven le Babe-Hunkmeister

So there you have it! End procrastination in your life! Send for Baby now! No, I mean it, like right now! Call today!
As an added incentive, the first caller will also get the Early Disobedience Warning Sibling. This sibling will go off like a car alarm the nano-second someone does something remotely wrong. No more discovering old messes or accidents, this kid will actually pre-warn you when someone's going to misbehave! You can be proactive in your day!

Making Pie for Becky

This is one of those "blogs about raising my kids." So if this kind of thing makes you gag, gives you hives or causes an ebola outbreak, click on by.

Anyway, another friend just had a baby. Yes, I know I just posted about a friend having a baby. What can I say except that I live in a fertile area (or maybe its the nuclear plant near by). So I'm making dinner for this friend, and I thought "Hey, I'll just make a quick chocolate cream pie for her." A more practical thought would have been to say, "Hey, I'll just jet over to Paris for croissants." I start by measuring out the cocoa powder and the sugar. I stop what I'm doing to unlock the bathroom door so the Baby can get out. I don't know how he managed to lock himself in. Then I separate and whisk three egg whites and stop what I'm doing to get the Baby out of the cat food, which he has spilled all over the floor and in the water dish. I heat the milk with the cocoa mixture on the stove and stop what I'm doing to get the Baby off the step stool and away from the house alarm system. Then I knock the pre-made pie crust onto the floor. Baby starts eating the bits off the floor before I can salvage the pie crust and use it (hey, the floor was just cleaned a few days ago!). I get Baby to stop eating momentarily so I can try to sweep up. I don't do a very good job as Baby is still trying to get at the pie crust bits and its hard to sweep and keep him away.

I continue to heat the cocoa and milk mixture on the stove and stop what I'm doing to get Baby away from the alarm again. I process graham crackers to make a new pie crust and stop what I'm doing to stop Baby from throwing Polly Pockets into the toilet. I have too many crumbs for one pie so in a fit of environmentalism (not wanting to waste the extra crumbs) I make another pie crust. At this point, I have a mess by the cat's eating area, pie crumbs still on the floor, water on the floor in the bathroom, Pollys in the toilet and Baby's clothes are wet. As he tries for a third time to set off the house alarm, I toss him outside in the yard. He's wet, he has no shoes, no jacket and its December. The way I figure it, he's not complaining, the interior of my house is safe for a little while and dealing with Child Protective Services has got to be easier than keeping up with Baby. Now I finish making my pies and clean the house of the various and sundry messes Baby has made.

Now I could complain about the hardships of raising up an 18 month old but no one stuck a gun to my head and said "Reproduce! And be quick about it!" And when I sat down to think about it, keeping up with Baby landed me a clean house and two desserts. That's pretty good return for a day's work.

Wow......

I went to my 20th High School reunion. Actually, I was too cheap to go to the actual reunion so I went to a party my friend was hosting the next day. I had a lovely time and my heartfelt thanks go out to not only our hostess but my husband who spent the entire time keeping our 18 month old from trashing the joint while I socialized like someone who's been in a closet for the past year.
The party was all at once weird and wonderful. It was weird because everyone looked different yet familiar. It was wonderful to see with what ease everyone got along despite a 20 year absence. I told my husband it was like getting together with siblings I wasn't actually related to. Actually, better because I don't have any memories of my classmates getting me in trouble with Mom. The only difficult part was watching the old prom video. I'm sure a psychoanalyst would explain my cringing was the result of unacknowleged vanity. Or maybe despair at the lost of those cool dance moves.
Anyway, for those of you TFTD'ers tuning in, I have some questions that I didn't get a chance to ask. Seeing as how its my blog, I'll answer first.

1. Are you doing what you thought you would be doing?
Through high school, I envisioned being married and having a business career. Kids didn't really enter the picture. Now I'm out populating most of Italy.

2. What's the coolest thing you've done or have happened to you so far?
Outside of the obvious (ruggedly handsome husband and cherubic children), I think the coolest thing that's happed to me was getting my name in the acknowlegements of a published book.

3. At this point, we're all pushing 40 (gasp!), name something you want to do before you die.
Travel, only not like the flat broke college student I was when I first had the opportunity, or write a book.

4. Dunkin' Donuts or Starbucks?
Dunkin' when I'm with the kids, Starbucks when its just me.

Hope you all had a safe trip home!