Wednesday, February 26, 2014

My Super-Duper Big Exciting News

Last year I auditioned for a show called Listen To Your Mother. Listen To Your Mother is a series of live staged readings about motherhood. As my friend put it, think Vagina monologues except about the mom experience in all its various forms and each piece it written by the person reading it. Anyway, last year I didn’t make it, so when I got an audition this year I kept my expectations in check and tried not to get too excited.

I drove down to Oklahoma City and read my piece in front of the three producers while trying to control my shaky hands and voice. I prepared myself to not make it. I told myself it was an honor just to be nominated. Then since I made this trip sans kids I left and went to the outlet mall.

I shopped, I spent too much money, I ate lunch, I ran into a friend and then I got ready to drive back.  I called my mother-in-law to tell her I was headed back. The kids wanted to stay another night and since my mother-in-law is the best she let them stay. Really…she’s the best. She took my kids and my two nieces to Chucky Cheese…on a Saturday.

I went home and went wild. And by wild I mean I ate an obscene amount of chocolate cake, stayed up late and watched movies.  It was wonderful. Just this would have been a great day, but then I got a call.  I made it into the Oklahoma City cast of Listen To Your Mother! All week long I’ve been saying the words “I’m sooo excited” like a valley girl, but I can’t help it…I am sooo excited!

So if you are in Oklahoma City, please come out and see me and this cast of wonderfully witty women on May 4th! Tickets go on sale soon!

Monday, February 24, 2014

She's Got a Fever

Kenzie goes to swim class every week.  It’s at the same time as the baby swim class.  Really it’s just the parents moving their child’s arms and legs because these babies are lazy, but anyway, it got Kenzie thinking…and wishing.

“I wish we had a baby,” she announced in the locker room.

As my dad would say, we need a baby like a fish needs a bicycle.  He also says something about putting socks on a rooster, but I’m not sure that one applies here.

“Really?” I said and then continued to get her dressed hoping that she would forget about the whole baby thing.
“Yeah, I really wish we had a baby.”  Nope, she didn’t forget.  She didn’t forget all day long.  She talked about babies in the car, during lunch, at Target.  This kid had serious baby fever.

It’s not that I’m opposed to babies.  I have a 6-month old niece that I love very much.  I just don’t want to raise another baby.  I’m enjoying the stage that we’re in now, the one that doesn’t involve diapers and does involve everyone wiping their own butts (most of the time anyway).  I like that my children can use words to tell me what’s bothering them.  Sometimes while throwing themselves on the floor or to tell me how mean I am, but words nonetheless.

I thought that I would eventually just have to tell her that for us, there would be no more babies.  Instead she changed her mind on her own while driving home from the grocery store.

“Momma,” she said, “babies freak me out.”

Me too, kid.  Me too.

This is enough.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

My Secret Life is Hidden in My Purse

You might think that just because I’m a suburban stay at home mother of two that I am boring.  What if I told you that at this very moment in my purse are a glow stick and a pair of panties?  Who’s boring now?

Ok, so the glow stick is from a birthday party.  A kid’s birthday party at Bounce U.  I was there though and there were strobe lights and everything, so I’m pretty much a raver.  Not to mention with this glow stick in my purse I could rave anywhere I want.  I could rave at home, I could rave in the pick-up line, I could rave at Target. I’m so crazy I could just call up Miley have her bring some Molly and pull this glow stick right out of my purse and party like it’s 1999.  Alright, so the fact that I just used an outdated Prince reference might show my uncoolness, but there’s still the panties.

Yeah…I’ve got panties in my purse.  What?!  I know.  I am insane.  It’s like I’m leading a secret life.  If the panties weren’t Minnie Mouse and belonging to my daughter.

Wait, wait!  I have a sponge in here!  My mom gave me a sponge that my grandmother sent from Germany because it’s scratchy side is superior to American sponges.  If I went through customs with that thing I would have to declare it because it far exceeds the abrasiveness of anything found on the shelves in this country.  Then I would tell them if they just wanted to go ahead and search me for Cuban cigars and illegal drugs I would completely understand since I obviously fit the profile.

If you want to come over and hang with me just give me a call.  I am warning you though, things might get a little crazy.  I’m talking cleaning pots and pans with illegal German sponges while listening to some pretty hardcore electronica crazy.

Oh, who am I kidding?  I’m going to call Miley and tell her to get her life together and make sure she’s getting enough sleep.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Caption This Donut

-It's ok.  It's whole grain.

-When potheads bake.

-This donut brought to you by sugar diabeetus.

-That donut in the back is just a donut, but that donut in the front is a DOOO-NUT!

-The donut for when you want to indulge.  The loops for your daily recommended serving of "froot".

-Ran out of milk.  Improvised and used a donut instead.

-I don't know, seems a little too heath food-ish.  Can we try deep frying it as well?

-Take three bites of a Froot Loop donut in front of a mirror and Wilford Brimley will appear.

-Froot Loop Donut.  Contains 2% of daily fiber and 100% of I don't give a fuck.

And if the "froot" is just too healthy and you really want to indulge I give you...

The Cocoa Puff Donut.  Why?  'Merica.

Monday, February 10, 2014

The Scary Dog That Isn't

Photo by Ann Pinson

This is my dog.  He is a big dog.  He most recently scared the shit out the AT&T people trying to sell me the U-verse.  They told me what a nice dog he was as Cooper gently sniffed their crotches, but their faces said, “Dear God, please don’t let him eat me and/or bite my balls.”  Well, one of them said that with their face. The other was a girl so I don't think she had balls.  I guess you never really know...anyway, that's not the point of this story.

Rottweilers get a bad rap.  I get it.  Before my husband suggested we get one, I was one of those people.  Why didn’t he suggest we get a baby cougar or a rabid monkey?  That’d be nice.  I came around when I met his uncle’s rottie; a 120lb guy named Rogue whose highest aspiration in life was for you to pat him on the head. Side note: if you are going to talk your significant other into getting a dog, do not wait several months later after she has forgotten about said discussion and make her Christmas present a dog leash and collar.  You might think you are saying “Hey, I found a dog!  Let’s go get her!” but she will think it means you are now into some kinky shit.  True story.

We brought home our furry bundle of joy, a female that we named Shelby.  My mother sent her greetings by mailing newspaper clippings of Rottweilers that had eaten people.  Shelby never did eat anyone and we loved her so much that we got a second rottie, Cooper.  (Shelby sadly passed away from cancer 2 years ago.)

Here’s a story about a Rottweiler that won’t end up in the newspaper.  My big scary dog once hid behind my legs on a walk because a Chihuahua barked at him.  And I was pregnant at the time.  He stayed firmly planted behind my legs until we were out of view of the killer Chihuahua’s yard. He was only a year old at the time so maybe his confidence would grow with time.


Just the other day, this same big scary dog had a big scary nightmare.  At least I assume that’s what it was by the twitching and whining.  The big scary dog then jumped up and ran to me and pestered me until I held him.

I’m just glad the AT&T people didn’t see that scene play out.  Their sales pitch was considerably shorter when they thought I owned a man-eater.

I don't have the heart to tell him he is not a lap dog.

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

It Was a Brilliant Idea Until It Wasn't

Have you ever had an idea that just for one fleeting moment was the most brilliant idea ever?  So brilliant that you wonder why nobody had ever thought of it before? And then you realize it's because it's a really, really dumb idea?

Yeah.  I had one of those tonight.

Eric and I shipped our kids off to grandma and grandpa's house so we had an evening to ourselves. We decided to try out Upper Crust, the new pizza place in town.  This is a huge improvement over our last date night where we ended up at Target.  I wish I were joking about that.  Anyway, I ordered a pizza margherita and as I was chowing down I was thinking about how awesome crust is.  In my opinion, it is the best part of the pizza.  Maybe is was the glass of Pinot Noir or maybe I was high on my newfound freedom this evening away from snotty noses and butts that needed wiping, but this got my creative juices flowing.  Somebody should make an appetizer out of this.  How great would that be? Just a plate of pizza crust.  If I ever open a restaurant, I am serving a plate of pizza crusts as an appetizer.  This is the best idea in food since somebody decided to deep fry macaroni and cheese.

Then I remembered that they have that.  They're called breadsticks.

I am a fucking genius.

Monday, February 3, 2014

Yoga-ing with My Kids

Yoga is defined, by the end all be all of information-Wikipedia, as the physical, mental and spiritual practices or disciplines with a view to attain a state of permanent peace.  Yesterday my kids wanted to do yoga with me.  There was no peace-permanent, temporary, fleeting or otherwise.  There was the physical, mental and spiritual practice of not losing my mind.

For the first two minutes, all was calm and very zen.   As zen as could be expected when doing yoga with a 6 and 3-year old.  That was only after the initial fight over everyone’s spot in the room and some personal space issues.

After the first two minutes it was all downhill from there.   Hudson had tired of doing downward dog over and over again so instead decided to come up with his own move, which he called the booty pose.  As the name implies it involves lying on the floor, bringing your feet over your head so your butt is straight up in the air and near your face.

I tried very hard to tune them out for a moment, but Hudson and Kenzie’s conversation was hard to ignore.

Hudson: “Momma, this is the booty pose.”
Kenzie: “Hudson, you can’t just have your booty in the air.”
Hudson: “BOOTY!”
Kenzie: “BOOTY!”

Hudson told me that he only liked the ones where he got to lie down so I fast-forwarded to the end of the DVD thinking he may like that section better.  I stopped on child’s pose.  Perfect, right?  It was only perfect in that child’s pose involved an actual child climbing on me.  Kenzie tried to climb on my back and then when I told her to get down she resorted to trying to crawl under me.

“Momma, can you take your head off?”
“What? No, I can’t take my head off!”
“Can you open your head?”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“I want to go under.  Can you open your head?”

And on that note I pressed stop.  Namaste.

Considering how much yoga did not happen, I was surprised that the second question Hudson asked me this morning right after “Can you make my waffle?” was “Can we do yoga?”  We did.  Again it involved mostly booty poses, fights over personal space, and in general not doing yoga unless you count the booty pose.

I thought that was the end of yoga.  Until dinner that is, when Hudson asked me again if we could do yoga before bed.

So I guess yoga is here to stay.  I did get smart and buy a yoga DVD specifically for kids.  We’ll see how it goes.  May the peace be with me.

This is how they "Namaste".