Sunday, June 29, 2008

Presenting the Mother of all Online Showers:Hosted by the two WMs

The lovely Lollie (who I hope doesn't kill me for posting this particular picture ) is expecting her first little wee-nut August 7th!

As much as we wanted to hop on the first plane headed to sunny Fl to celebrate with her in person,sadly, that wasn’t to be.

So we,the two WMs: Worker Mommy & WhiskeyMarie are throwing her one helluva of a cyber shower and you’re all invited!

We’ve got presents from some terrific sponsors and games so grab a drink,sit back, relax and we’ll tell you how you can join in the festivities and possibly take home some goodies of your own.

The Gifts
Happy Panda Baby,whom we love and you will too, graciously offered to sponsor this shindig and will be sending their super hip "Flawless" sleep set for the baby to be - because we know that any baby of Lollie’s will be just that - flawless.

The folks at Belli Skin Care, who make the most divine natural and safe products have offered up some amazing items for mom (to die for body firming serum ,eye brightening cream and other such goodies) and baby like their baby gift set

and finally

What’s a party with out cake? Mommysbabycakes is donating the fabulous three tiered diaper cake and matching diaper bassinet pictured here for mom and baby.

The cool thing about this cake is that all items are 100 % reusable and this cake will not make you gain extra lbs! Mommy's new online but she's got the cutest stuff and incredibly reasonable prices!

And you …just how do you fit in? Well, we want you to share the love.

The Games:
Create a post in honor of Lollie and her baby using the following 20 words : nursery, diaper, bottle, onesie, crib, stroller, binky, booties, blankie, baby powder, magician , practical , fedora, cinema, petunia, bison, airplane , organic , computerized, gesture.

Easy right? Now go forth and create.

And please be sure to come back here and sign Mr. Linky once you’ve posted your masterpiece. You have until July 11th at which time WM, Lollie and I will select 2 winners to receive their choice of a $25 Visa Gift Card or I-Tunes Gift Card.

Ooh and if you want a chance to win a $15 I-Tunes Card:

Lollie’s due date is 8/7 but we all know babies typically come when they want to. In true baby shower game style, leave a comment guessing the gender, the birthdate and the weight(if it helps any Lollie was 8lbs 4oz and her guy was 5lbs 6oz). The closest guess wins (but don’t expect to see this particular prize until August)

Congratulations Lollie, we heart you so !

and to all the rest of y’all “game on!”

Your hosts,
The WMs

Friday, June 27, 2008

Because I'm a Tease

Make absolutely sure that you bring your hind parts back here Monday. Special things will be happenin'.

and that

is all I'm sayin.



Monday, June 23, 2008

I met bloggers and you-u didn't...neener neener

What... like you come here for my incredible sense of maturity ? Pul-ease

Saturday night I met up with Annie, Mommastrantrum and Mamakazie for dinner and drinks. It was the first meeting for all of us and believe it or not they did not run away screaming when they met me. They may have even liked me a little. Or at least were good at pretending.
The conversation flowed as did the wine and we had a fabulous time the ladies and I. And well they'll always be special to me because when I mistook the coffee flavors that sat out on the counter in Dilettante for lotion and promptly pumped it on my hand they laughed their asses off. Much like I would have done had the tables been turned. What can I say it was in a lotion-esque kind of bottle and uh well I guess I kind of thought they were trying out new Amaretto scented lotion. It could happen right?
So there you go, neener neener. You wish you were me don't you ?

Oh and on a totally,completely,unrelated note my 5 year old daughter,J after learning that we were not going to the park immediately upon my arrival home from a long day at work glared at me and said "Mom, you're fired".
And no we don't watch The Apprentice in this house...thank you. So I'm really perplexed as to where she got that little gem. Yep folks , she'll be here all week.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

When being the "cool" parent isn't so cool

Even before I had kids I knew that I wanted to be the "cool" parent.

My children would be the envy of all of their friends, what with a hip mom and dad that were down with all the latest fads and fashions and able to hang with the best of them.

And for the most part hubby and I have lived up to that. There's a reason TomGirl's BFF told her "your stepmom and dad are so cool". We were the only parents that started an impromptu volleyball game in the parking lot between actual games - running and diving for balls like olympians.

Because that is how we roll, hubby and I.

One particularly hot day I was out running errands when I got a call from hubby.

"Can you bring some change when you get home ?" he asked
"Sure, but why?" I asked
"The kids set up a lemonade stand and I don't have any change."

"Oh, ok,no problem" I said making sure to get a few quarters so that I could support our local business. As I pulled in to my driveway my kids came running along with a few of the neighbor kids.

"You wanna buy some lemondade?" they all shouted in unison. I purchased two glasses and set them aside as the first sip taught me that the sugar content was more then I could bear.

Ana a little 8 year old neighbor girl decided she'd wanted to have another drink stand.
"Um do you have some extra milk and some spoons ?" she asked as she talked my daughter J in to doing the stand with her.

"Sure" I said and produced the items. She and my daughter made some concoction and then asked me to purchase one which I did. Moments later Ana was asking if I wanted more.

"Uh no thanks" I said and busied myself with trying to inflate the
pool I'd purchased for the kids to play in.

Once Ana saw what I was doing she ran to get her swimsuit. When she came back she had her two brothers Chance and Stephen in tow. Chance wanted to play she said but he didn't have a swimsuit.I let him borrow some of my son's trunks.

Later when I brought a snack out for the kids, Chance finished his and decided he needed more. "Um we didn't have any breakfast" Ana spoke up.

"You didn't?" I asked knowing it was probably about 12:00 at that point.

"No our Daddy didn't fix anything for us" she said.

"Ok," I relented and went back in to the house for another bag. When I reappeared with the crackers there stood Stephen saying "I didn't get mine".

Before I could say anything Chance and Ana were asking for more. I suggested they head home and remind their Dad they hadn't had breakfast.

"But we can't" they whined "He's doing his work and we can't interrupt."

"Huh" I muttered and tried to ignore their cries for more. It went on like that for longer then I care to mention with this motley crew asking for everything in my kitchen when I'd finally had enough. I told them B & J needed to come in.

"Whew" I said to hubby. "That's nuts" I said "the manners on those kids."

Those kids the ones I thought I wanted to be down with. The ones that knock on my door every evening as soon as I arrive home wanting to chat with me and my kids about absolutely nothing, refusing to take subtle cues like "Ok we've got to go now I need to fix dinner"

Some nights,it's all I can do not to slam the door in their faces. Two nights ago Stephen came over and asked me if I wanted to buy some magazines. Mind you school is out and he had no order form resembling anything legitimate. He merely had a few very old National Geographics that he was thumbing through.

That took the cake. These kids don't think we're cool. They think we're suckers . Bump that, I thought and promptly kicked him off my porch and slammed the door in his 10 year old face for added effect.

The nerve!

Ok, not really

Uh, but I sure did think about it.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Suck It, right Foot

Remember this letter? The one in which I blasted my left foot for cursing me with the worst heel pain ever.

If you recall, I ended my letter asking that my right foot heed my warning and not pull any similar stunts. That tactic worked. For more then a year I had my right foot cowering in fear.

Until a few days ago, when I started to feel that familiar pain as I first stepped out of bed putting weight on my right foot. Pain that emits the kind of screams from me that only dogs can hear.

Oh woe is me!

On the bright side though since this condition is not unfamiliar to me I guess I know how to cure what ails me. Instead of revisiting the pervy doctor that caressed my ankle and slid off my sandal (rather then asking me to take my own sandal off) and talked to my cleavage the whole time - I'll simply freeze water in a coke bottle and roll it around on my heel, I'll do the exercises, I'll wear the splint and sport tennis shoes whenever possible (Oh if only my body understood what it's doing to a shoe fanatic like me).


On second thought,since we all know it's better to look good then to feel good just send me painkillers. Lots of them. The kind that'll make me feel gur-ooovy.

Yep and maybe some liquor too...

Or maybe, just maybe this is my body's way of telling me I've worked hard enough in my 35 years and that I need to plant my arse in a chair somewhere, relax my feet while 22 year old hard-bodied cabana boys fan me and feed me grapes.

Of course it is, I can't believe it took me this long to figure it out. I'm headed in to go talk to my boss now.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Uh, that was my head that just exploded

There was an 80's movie, the title of which I can't remember just now but I remember one line in particular.
"Sometimes you just gotta say... what the fuck"

Advice I need desperately to take.

I needn't stress out about the fact that my boss is stressed out and in turn trying to stress me the hell out. I needn't worry about the fact that my co-worker, whom I like, I really do, is not fully getting all aspects of her job even at 8 months in and thus wants to offload even more work to me (I'm struggling to figure out at what point I tell her enough is enough without looking like I'm failing to be "teamplayer").

I needn't worry that bossylady and co-worker are headed off to a conference next week leaving me to handle the work of three people.
Nope not going to worry about it at all.

In fact, with them out of the office I may blog more .

Yeah, things are looking up already!

Friday, June 13, 2008


With gas now requiring a 2nd mortgage, I've begun taking the train to work religiously. In doing so, I've found that I really prefer it to driving or taking the bus.

I typically come in to work a bit more relaxed having used the ride to indulge in a little trashy novel reading. Comprised of professionals commuting to work, the train is much quicker than the alternative bus that stops at every third block and drives on the heavily trafficked freeways I'm trying to avoid. Plus, I'm no longer subjected to the obnoxious bus riding teens that want to ensure each passenger knows they can use the word fuck in every sentence , or smelly undesirables that have no knowledge they reek when sitting as close to me as possible.

That said, recently I've started to become disenchanted with the train. Particularly in the afternoon. When everyone on the train gets on their cell phones immediately upon taking a seat.
Granted, I understand the need to check in with family after work but that's not what I'm hearing. I'm hearing long drawn out conversations to switch insurance policies, then a subsequent call to significant other to let him know you've done so, then an argument with significant other because he did not want you to switch without consulting him.

Why, just the other day I had the pleasure of sitting across from a lady with a hideous cow print patent leather coat as she discussed her evening plans. "Well I was thinking of picking up a cake and bringing it to him along with a little sump'n sump'n. Then I have to head home and then take a shower and then..."

"LADY," I'm screaming inside my head "WHO FREAKIN CARES , besides if you didn't get the memo, it's no longer cool to say 'a little sump'n sump'n' or any variation of that phrase"

Oh and my personal fave, the exceptionally LOUD mom that was having a discussion with another mom about some neighborhood girl that comes to her house and eats everything. "I mean chips or pop is one thing but she's always in my pantry and its non stop" she bellowed.
When Loud Mom finally ended her call I was relieved , until she felt the need to relay the whole conversation to the passenger across from her. "Drama Mom" she said shaking her head in disbelief. "Soooo ridiculous", she exclaimed!

Her !?, I thought. How about you you ? You are louder than any human is supposed to be and you fail to realize that the rest of us just aren't interested.

Now don't get me wrong, I've taken a brief call on the train before. The key word being brief and even in urgent situations that required a bit more conversation I've lowered my voice.

What is it about the afternoon train that makes everyone turn in to those same obnoxious teenagers I stopped taking the bus to avoid ?

I just don't get it. It's incredibly frustrating!

Short of bitch slapping someone, though, I guess I have to deal with it as I can't think of any commuting alternatives.

But it is getting worse as the ridership increases.

I've actually eyed my kids scooters.

Don't laugh, it could be done. I swear if I have to hear one more time how you sent your outfit to the drycleaners 3 times and they still couldn't get the red wine stain out I'm headed there.

So if you see a little 5' 2" woman on a pink radio flyer scooter headed down I-5 don't laugh. Simply beep and wave and know that I finally reached my breaking point.


Now then, Happy Father's Day to all the Dad's out there and all that good stuff.


Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Eff off Cancer, You weren't invited to this Party

Kay said something funny to me the other day.

It was as I was explaining something I'd written on my blog. "Have you been reading ?"I asked. "No", I just haven't had the time" she said quickly which would have been a perfectly acceptable answer as Kay works full time has two children and just experienced a messy divorce.
But then she added "You know why I don't read your blog ?"


"Because it's not about me," she said, which at that moment if you knew Kay was probably the funniest thing she could have said. Kay is probably the least conceited person you could meet.

"Whatever" I said but secrectly vowed to share some of our escapades or put in more that a casual reference to her as "the bff" in a post

And now I'm writing about her twice in a row in fact, but this isn't really at all what I'd planned on writing.

I didn't want to write that her cancer has recurred and she's most likely going to have to endure high dose chemotherapy and stem cell transplantation- procedures that in addition to possibly making her incredibly weak and ill will take up to a year to recover from.

But I'm hopeful that these treatments will force this evil disease back in to the bowels of hell from which it came.

I've already threatened offered to bring the WM fam and set up shop at her house so that I can be there to hold her hair when she throws up in the middle of the night or make her laugh when she's at the point where she feels she can't take anymore.

The partners at her work are already making arrangements for her to telecommute and have asked that she not make any healthcare decisions based solely on insurance- that if need be they will pay for that which isn't covered.

So between her mom, her sister, her co-workers and I we've got it covered. We're prepared to be her support system.

We refuse to let this univited guest spoil our party.

And to you, my internet friends, I can't tell you how much I appreciate the thoughts ,prayers and well wishes on Kay's (and my) behalf.

You are my support and for that I am eternally grateful.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

That Friend

Did you ever have a friend that while you may not speak with her every day, or even every week, when you do finally speak it’s as if not a day has gone past since you last spoke ? You fall effortlessly in to conversation and when you look at the time realize you’ve been talking for quite a while.

Did you ever have a friend that when you call to tell her about a horrifying parenting moment in which you accidentally let your newly rolling over baby roll herself right off of the bed, has you laughing by the end of the call by animatedly sharing a similar story. A story in which her 18 month old son fell down two stairs and bloodied his lip after she let go of his hand for just an instant . “ Don’t beat yourself up,” she says “Accidents happen to the best of us”

And that friend knows you so well, she can gauge your response to things before you respond.

That friend, when she shops with you will give you her honest opinion on the white pants you just put on when tactfully telling you that maybe they aren’t quite right for you. And you trust her and without offense put the white pants back because you know she’s right

A friend that you can say anything to, a friend that just lets you be you

I have that friend and her name is Kay

As Kay and I exchanged emails last week she mentioned that her annual scan was coming up that afternoon. I asked her to promise to call me right after. She promised, even giving me an approximate time she’d call.

When that time came and went I panicked a little but waited.

When my phone finally rang , I picked it up relieved that it was Kay but quickly became close to tears as she told me things hadn’t gone so well. Ater 4 years in remission from lymphoma , this scan, the scan that if clear would have propelled her in to the 5 year mark in which recurrences are considerably less, was not clear .

I searched for just the right words to say and finally just offered to hop in my car and head over to her house that instant.

But she declined, saying that she’d be fine and that her oncologist will schedule a needle biopsy of the questionable lymph nodes but is not yet willing to treat it like cancer until he knows more.

You hang on to those words , not yet treating it like cancer, for dear life and tell her that you’re hopeful and "lets not worry until we know more".

You end that call on a hopeful note.

But secretly you’re scared.

And as you sit here typing these words at this very moment you know Kay is having her biopsy.

You’re praying for her with every fiber of your being and hoping that the results, although they will take a week to come back , will be negative.

And then you end your post, still frightened, but feeling just the slightest bit better that you’ve shared her with your readers and hope that maybe you will have touched something in them to pray, send good health vibes, whatever they think best

so that that friend ,that you love so much will continue to remain cancer free.

Monday, June 2, 2008

Well maybe this won't win me any parenting awards, but...

The work is still piled high but I missed you and,well, there has been quite a bit going on in my neck of the woods.

That said, I'll keep it brief because sadly not one of my co-workers understands the meaning of a closed door.

Now then, a couple of weeks back I'd taken the twins to their five year check up. They were a bit "up in arms" about being there because I'd forewarned them about the one shot that they would need. But they were generally ok during the multitude of tests, poking and proding from the office staff.

Until it came to the vision test. For my son.

He claimed he couldn't see the bottom line. A couple of things ran through my head at the moment the nurse asked him again if he could read the last line. 1) He's over this damn doctors appointment and wants desperately to leave and thus has put you on ignore
or 2) He hasn't mastered every single alphabet letter visually and may not recognize what you're showing him.
So I chose not to worry about it too much at that point. When the physician came in I mentioned both of these things and he simply said "perhaps, but I'd like to have him seen by a pediatric optometrist to be on the safe side".
Again, it didn't occur to me to worry as I hadn't had any other indications that my son B, couldn't see well.
But I made an appointment with a pediatric optometrist for the following week. And after spending about 2 hours with the incredibly skilled and patient staff at the optometrist's office I was told he would indeed need glasses as he has astigmatism .

Dammit, I thought, out of all the things I wanted to pass down to my child that certainly wasn't one of them.

I almost teared up when she gave me the verdict, now mind you I was particularly hormonal that day, but it still saddened me that my little baby would have to get glasses at age 5. In fact it more then saddened me.

What I couldn't figure out was why. I mean it was only glasses for freaks sake. Hell, I've had some kind of corrective lens since the age of 14 and it's not the worst thing in the world.
But for some reason even as we tried on frames and B sported the cutest little Adidas specs, I was still inwardly upset while outwardly trying to make picking glasses the most exciting thing ever.

Just what was my problem?

And then it occured to me, I'm worried about my son being teased. I would do anything not to have him subjected to that type of cruelty.

So I thought and I thought, about just what I could do to make this situation right. I mean, as his mom and his protector I had to do something.

And then... Eureka, I got it !!!

I shall teach my son to fight back with his words.

Here's how, I envision it going in my mind:

Punk Kid: Hey, four eyes
My sweet son, B: Are you talking to me ?
Punk Kid: yeah you, nice glasses, dork
My sweet son, B: I know you're trying to get to me but I like my glasses. They are helping me see clearly.
However, now that I can see everything, I'm seeing for the first time how ass ugly you really are...(walks away and flips him the bird)

What too much ?