Monday, August 27, 2007

MMM HMMM I Like The Way You Look Jill Hennessey MMM HMMM

Lately, I've noticed that I seem to be girl crushing. A LOT. Ok, so its not just lately. I've had a huge thing for Jill Hennessey since I started watching Crossing Jordan (by the way, anyone else out there totally ticked that they cancelled that show?) I don't know what it is about Jill but I really groove on her. She kinda makes me tingle - down there. Of course, my husband doesn't seem to mind because I think she makes him tingle down there too (although he's also confessed a crush on Helen Hunt who I find a little manly).

I even have a picture of Jill hanging above my desk at work. (if I could ever figure out how to post a fucking picture, I'd show you) Its a strange little collage I have going on - most of them courtesy of a girl I work with. There is the picture of GW shaking hands with Curt Schilling from the Red Sox (by the way, in spite of the way my collage appears, I am not, nor will I ever be, a GW fan. I do believe I am the only registered Democrat in the state of Nebraska) There is a picture of GW with a giant pumpkin pasted over his face, and then my personal favorite Daddy and Mommy Bush wearing Red Sox jerseys. It was almost enough to cause me to denounce the Sox as my favorite team, no matter how much I love Jason Varitek. Above them all is my full size magazine picture of Jill - she watches over me during the day. She has that little twinkle in her eye that says, yes Kate, I love you too.

On a side note, Igor (aka 16 yo oldest and most favorite son) had his girlfriend over for dinner. Let me clarify, by that I mean, I made dinner and they both ate and a good time was had by all. Is it totally wrong that at the back of my mind, I am panic struck that by the time I was his age I had already lost my virginity? Do they make chastity belts for boys? I continue to try and shock scar him with sex ed talks but I think he's so used to me now they've lost their impact. I heard a news story the other day that said the current median age teenagers lose their virginity is 14. Does that scare the shit out of anyone else? 14!?!?!?!? At 14, I would still occasionally play with Barbies. I was only just starting to look at boys. What the hell are these babies doing having sex? They should only just be figuring out masturbation - not intercourse.

For those of you who read who only have little kids - lock them up now before its too late. You can let them out - Eventually. For those of you who have kids above the age of 10, you know that you feel every word I'm typing. If you can't lock them up, I'm thinking we should convince them all that homosexuality is the way to go. At least that way you don't end up a grandparent when your baby is still a baby.

Now, I must return to staring intently into Jill's eyes before she thinks I no longer love her.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Craziness I Tell You....

Do you all remember that disturbing movie from the 70s, "Sybil"? I think Sally Field played Sybil. I have just discovered the real life Sybil that the movie is based on. Its true. She's alive and well (figuratively speaking) in Nebraska. As a matter of fact, her desk is right across from mine. For the record, I now believe that Stevie Wonder was Sybil's father....

Let me start by saying, I've been employed with this screen print company for over 10 years. Its a small family business that does some amazing stuff - when Baby was born, she got gifts from the NBA. Its the coolest job on the Earth. How many other places can you get paid to talk sports. I love sports - well let me rephrase, I love all New England Teams in sports. I was born and partially bred in New England and grew up with a deep seated love of watching Patriots football games and BoSox baseball games with my dad. I truly believe that Jason Varitek (catcher for the BoSox) is my one true love in life - we share the same birthday (to the day and year), he got his World Series ring on opening day on said birthday, and he has great legs. Before you ask, yes my husband is aware of this love and knows there is a small but distinguished list of men I'm waiting on - they just need to realize how wonderful I am and come get me. I digress. Back to Sybil...

So, the owners of this company have 3 daughters that all work here, 2 Normal Girls and Sybil. I have the misfortune to share an office with Sybil. While I used to use my computer to hide behind and pretend to be working, but instead surfing the web, now I use to hide from Sybil. NO EYE CONTACT MUST BE MADE!!! If there is, she will talk to you. You never know what personality will come out. There's the Southern Girl, complete with down on the farm hick accent (let me mention, she was born and bred in NE and has never been out of this state for any length of time), there's the Paris Hilton, my mommy and daddy own the business therefore I'm better than you, there's the Special Ed, yayyyyyy I drive the short bus, and my personal favorite, full on Sybil.

Full on Sybil consists of all of the above personalities along with some strange rocking in her seat along with humming (hence the reason I now believe Stevie Wonder is Sybil's father). Full on Sybil gives herself pep talks - c'mon Sybil you can do this it will be ok. Full on Sybil mutters like she is hearing voices in her head (which she probably is) and at any minute I expect her to start batting the air like a cat who sees something that isn't there. Full on Sybil is a combination of all the weird women in Deuce Bigalow. Full on Sybil will fall asleep at her desk and snore. Full on Sybil cries. I truly expect her head to spin around and projectile vomit green shit one of these days. Full on Sybil apparently has some animal personalities as well because I swear she meowed today.

She has another quirk as well. She is a compulsive labeler. Everything she has at work is labeled. No, I'm not kidding - EVERYTHING. Even the Clorox wipes on her desk - Sybil's bought with own money. Yes, I'm totally serious. That's exactly what it says - word for fucking word. She labels the bread she brings, the windex on her desk, even the Kleenex. Sometimes, when she's not around, I like to have fun with the stuff she's labelled. I've been known to "accidentally" lean on her loaf of bread or shake her sodas. Once I even took the Clorox wipes off her desk and used them....the Rainman part of her Sybil personality probably had counted them before hand and knew exactly SIX were missing and it probably drove her crazy. Small reward for the weird shit I put up with.

Sybil has managed to spawn 4 mini's - all girls. There is mini Sybil. Yes, this means exactly how it sounds. Its like twins with a 20 year age gap. There is Britney Spears - complete with trashy thongs showing over her hip hugging jeans, tank tops and tattoos. I don't even know how to classify the youngest one - drug using, alcohol drinking, violent, trashy, sleeps with anything with a penis 18 year old 9th grader? Out of all the kids, she's managed to have one normal one. I guess it just goes to show that genes do mutate and there is something to that whole Survival of the Fittest.

Ok, Sybil/Rainman's rocking and humming again - 10 minutes to Wapner???

Monday, August 6, 2007

Mama's Little Boy

My oldest "baby" is 16. Yes, 16. This has led to some recent musing, chiefly - damn I'm getting old. I cannot believe the sweet little baby boy is now almost a man. Each day that passes, I think it tears my heart out a little more. If this is parenting, I want to resign. It hurts my heart to think that he won't be "mine" too much longer.

When you have children, most of us play the "I can't wait game". You know it...I can't wait til they sleep, I can't wait til they hold their own bottle, I can't wait til they walk, I can't wait til they start school. You get the point. Then, one day, it happens. They've done all those things you couldn't wait for and you would do anything in your power to turn back the clock. Its all very "Cats in the Cradle".

This has all been driven home by the fact that we have a new baby. We are trying to appreciate each stage she's in and not be in a rush for her to move on to the next stage. When Igor (my son) and Drama Queen (my older daughter) start asking me questions about themselves as a baby (usually in relation to something Baby has achieved) I realize I can't answer. I don't remember when you got your first tooth. I don't remember when you held your own bottle. Sure, I remember the milestones (for the most part) of crawling, sitting walking. There's some hope for me that I'm not a totally terrible mother.

I chose to believe part of this is due to the fact that I raised both those kids. Even when I was married to their father, he was not around. You know the type - they think their job is complete once the sperm has successfully inseminated the egg. We were busy. There was soccer, band, dance, homework, etc.

Now I look at my son and I wonder - why didn't I take the time to appreciate this magnificent little being when I had him? Why is it that I can only fully appreciate the time lost when he no longer needs me? I adore my son. I totally think he's the best thing ever. He makes me laugh and I am incredibly proud of him. I can't take all the credit because part of it is who he is, but he is a GREAT person. The kid has never been in trouble - NEVER. When i think back to all the gray hairs I gave my parents at his age, I realize how lucky I am. He has one of the softest hearts of anyone you will ever meet.

That's not to say that life hasn't had its ups and downs. He's, how to put this, handy. And along with that, thinks he knows how to do everything. There was one memorable day about 6 or 7 years back when I came home to find my phone lines cut because he was trying to splice a phone in his room (which has no phone jack) into the main phone lines. I can laugh now but let me tell you - I was wicked pissed at the time! There have been holes dug in my yard, holes drilled in my house, and numerous things taken apart all in his quest to find out how it works and can he fix it. Just picture Tim Taylor from Tool Time meeting the creepy kid from Toy Story and you will have some idea....Scary though, right?

There have been times that my garage has looked like Fred Sanford's junkyard. I like to hum the theme to him - Bwam Bwam Bwam wam (you get the point) - to which he looks at me blankly but I get a laugh. He has boxes of parts to things. I mean this literally - BOXES. He will go out and about and come home with a lawnmower, a weedeater, snowblowers, leaf blowers, and one time a chain saw that people have thrown out in the hopes that he can "fix" it. Inevitably, the experiment fails and the item get stripped for spare parts. Spare parts for what, I have no freaking clue!

Being a single mom, I also had to be responsible for all the "talks". Both the older kidlets went to Catholic School until 3 years ago and so, Sex Ed wasn't taught. I remember coming to work the day after explaining how it all worked to him and telling my coworkers how I sat him down and explained the mechanics. I had asked him if he understood and when he said no (I think no in the hopes I'd just get him a book and stop talking) I pulled out the dry erase board and drew pictures. They asked me at work if I was trying to scar him for life. When he started dating, I had to take the "talk" to a new level and remind him of sexual responsibility. He look horrified when I told him that just because masturbation feels good doesn't mean you are ready for sex.

You might be wondering - what in the hell is the point of all her aimless rambling? Well, my baby needs me again. He blew out his knee recently for the 3rd time and is facing surgery to repair it. I get to treat him like my little boy. Maybe if I ask real nice, he'll even sit on my lap (this you would have to know us to picture but I'm 5'1.5" and he's 6' so its a pretty funny image). The time flies - make sure you take the time to TRULY appreciate all the quirks about your children. After all, they are only ours for a short short time.

P.S. On a funny note, Baby managed to somehow finagle some items (items I needed, mind you) into the cup holder of her stroller on Friday. She's such a little thief!

P.S.S. Ok I admit it, I stashed them in the cup holder but I'm practicing my "the Baby did it" defense for when I get arrested.

Thursday, August 2, 2007

Special Ed....YAY

So, as you might of guessed from my earlier post, I haven't dealt with a baby in a LOOOOONG time. I've forgotten - so many things! These little beings are WORK...hard work at that. You have to actually watch them. You have to actually be a mommy. You can't take your eyes off them for a second. Personally, I think that this is unfair and the balance is heavily weighted to the devil spawns side. I swear they wait until you are just sitting comfortably watching TV to find mischief. I know they are laughing at us behind our backs.

Case in point - Baby has learned to scoot. Since this has happened, she has discovered their is this whole other world in our house. Her favorite places - Drama Queen's (my 12 year old daughter) room and the bathroom. Now, Drama Queen has nifty little shelves filled with her wonderous collection of snow globes. Baby finds these to be the most beautiful treasures in the world. How does she show her appreciation of these treasures? By repeatedly whacking them against the shelves they are on and then licking them better. A totally appropritate show of affection in her world, I'm sure, but not so much in Drama Queen's world. As a result, we've had to purchase a lock for DQ's door since the door won't stay closed. While we used to hear the swish swish swish of Baby scooting herself down the hallway followed by the ccccrrrrreeeeeaaaaaak of DQ's door being pushed opened and then the thwack thwack slurp of Baby showing her appreciation of DQ's beautiful collection - now, we hear the swish swish swish down the hallway, the angry thwack thwack thwack of Baby hitting the door, followed by some really loud pissed off screaming when she can't get in. Hey kid, life's a bitch - learn to deal! The only good part in all of this is I might actually lose my second ass from all the running around I'm doing but I swear the turkey neck flaps under my arms are cutting off my aerodynamics and slowing me down.

Just the other night, I was sitting comfortably on the couch, watching TV, drinking my glass of wine, and counting down the minutes til Baby's bedtime when I heard this curious splashing sound. I heard it, thought about it, and promptly discarded it. Until I heard it again. And again. At that point, something clicked in my brain....Hey wait, where is the Demon Spawn? I sighed mightly, took a swig of my wine for fortification from the fruit (hey, its my blog and I'll justify if I want) and went on a Baby hunt. Where did I find her? Sitting sweetly gazing intently at her crib with a look of please put me in here? Hell no! I found her standing at the toilet, arm in it up to her shoulder, and splashing merrily away. She had this look of pure joy on her face and her and the bathroom were covered in toilet water. What else could I do but laugh - oh and take several pictures for posterity....just wait til you get a boyfriend, Baby!

Of course, I have fun at her expense. Hence the title. I like to call her Special Ed because when she claps, her hands often miss each other. Then there is the fact that she likes to chew on baby wipes. Baby wipes, you gasp? What self respecting mother would let her baby suck on a wipe? The kind that is too old, too chunky, and too jaded to care! What's a little soap? Hell sometimes I actually give them to her after I've used them to clean her face. MMMMM Soap and crumbs - what a combo.

Baby is well loved, lest you think otherwise from the tone of this post. I'm simply one of those real laid back mom's. I've always been that way. Kids are going to get into are going to hurt are going to do totally disgusting things. Accept it, its a fact of life. As a matter of fact, I left the daycare with tears of laughter streaming down my face the other day because of Baby's antics and one mother's reaction to them. I looked knowingly and smugly at the workers after she left and said - First time mom?? No offense to any first time mom's out there but once you have a second you come to realize - some battles just ain't worth fighting. Its not going to make you a bad mom or hurt your baby if they get sugar before age 3 or god forbid, they touch poop and then lick their fingers. Is that gross, sure! Mostly, it will just give you plenty of stories to embarass them with in later life. Its payback for the days when they no longer think you are cool and would gladly shove you in a closet to avoid their friends meeting you. At any rate, I digress..

Another reason Baby is Special Ed has to do with the daycare. There is a little girl at the daycare who is about 2. This little girl has the sweetest demeanor but she has some special needs. She recently had surgery on her brain to remove fluid and a feeding tube inserted for fluids (apparently, she cannot drink without aspirating the liquid into her lungs). So, they were keeping her in the infant room thinking that the cute, sweet little babies would be less of a risk to her. Baby and her became best buddies. One day, I came to pick up baby and feeding tube girl was sitting by Baby and Baby was playing with something. Come to find out, Baby aka Demon Spawn, had managed to disconnect the feeding tube (and before you go EWWW from her nose??) no it was from a coupler, half the tube ran up the girls nose and the other half went into the backpack. Baby had managed to disconnect the back half and was having a grand old time with her own personal water fountain. I just shook my head and laughed.

There is also a little boy in the infant room (he's a few days older than Baby) who seriously has the biggest head I've ever seen. This kid is beyond cute and sweet but his mother is a head case (that's a post for a whole nother day). So, now Baby has her own daycare posse - it consists of Baby, Helmet Head, and Feeding Tube. YAYYYYY.

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Never Ever Put Jesus in the Drawer

As time is getting close for Baby's birthday, I find myself ruminating on how exactly this happened. Don't get me wrong, I understand the mechanics (and thoroughly enjoy them) of how it happened. Still, how exactly did this demanding little being come into our lives???

This time two years ago, I was happily settling into a new life. After a long time of single parenthood, I had finally found a man worthy of sharing my life. This was a second....what to call it....relationship for both of us. We both had married young and divorced after relatively lengthy marriages. We were settling into cohabitation with my two kiddies and all was well in life. As I had two children and he had two children, we logically decided that adding another child was impractical. After all, we weren't getting any younger and we were still young enough to appreciate that we were seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. Who wouldn't enjoy the fact that you could leave the house without: A. paying a babysitter, B. packing up your entire world belongings into a diaper bag just to be safe, and C. having kids whine that they wanted to go with you? We had done our jobs - our kids were almost raised and no longer needed us quite so much.

Then my sister went and jinxed us. She bought us the dreaded Jesus candle since we were "living in sin". This particular candle has a lovely image of Jesus pointing to his heart and weeping. My sister's clever idea of a joke. After laughing (and looking at Jesus weeping a little uncomfortably - I didn't want to burn his virgin eyes with our bedroom antics), I decided weeping Jesus would be so much more comfortable sitting in the drawer of my nightstand where he could be shielded from all the sinning - and let me tell you, there was a LOT of sinning going on!

Lo and behold, about 3 weeks after putting Jesus in the drawer, I started feeling "funny". I lived in denial for about another 3 weeks. Then I had to tell my hubby - who wasn't my hubby at the time, hence the sinning - that I thought we'd better get a test. He, in all his obliviousness, said a test for what. Yeah, thats how sure we both were that we were done having children. After all, my husband had testicular cancer years ago and only has one sperm bank and it has a low balance at that. Just to be doubly sure, I was also on the pill. So, now you can understand why I still don't understand how this happened.

In the end, it all worked out for the best. My hubby got his little girl he so desperately wanted. She is the love of all of our lives and being so much older this time around, we truly appreciate it more (except for that lack of sleep shit - that is why people hire Nanny's!). It is a little daunting starting over. I'm 35 and hubby is 38 and between us our kids are 16, 15, 12, 8, and almost 1. However, if one more fucking person asks if we are enjoying time with our granddaughter, I believe that would considered grounds for justifiable homicide.

The best part, my sister is now living in sin and I returned the Weeping Jesus to her. I'm waiting on her announcement any day now.....