VenturaMom

KINDERGARTEN CIRCA 1971

2008-08-30T17:46:00.000-07:00

I went to public school for Kindergarten in 1971, my only year in public school until college. Damn Catholics had a hold on me for the intervening 12 years. But in 1971, as the Vietnam War was raging on, I parted my hair on the side and fashioned it into pigtails. My siblings range from six- to 13-years older than me, so they were a bunch of hippies when I turned five and headed off to Kindergarten at Nuview Elementary.

I remember my teacher, her red coiffed hair, horn-rimmed glasses and perpetual nasal drip. She stuffed her ever-present tissue under her expandable watch band. Classy. One of my Kindergarten highlights was getting the freshly printed ditto worksheets (dude, if you don't know what ditto paper is, f-you - go to Wikipedia and look up mimeograph). Once in hand, I would flip the paper over (we didn't print two-sided because we were too busy cutting down old-growth forests) and on the great white expanse, I would draw a big circle and fill it with a peace sign. I was five. I liked the peace sign because my sister had a peace sign patch on her purse and my brothers painted one on their doorknob with black-light paint. There were peace signs drawn all over the shoe box that held our crayons on the shelf underneath the encyclopedias at our house. So yes, as a five-year-old I would proudly draw a peace sign, knowing it was cool but not sure what exactly it stood for. I just knew it was good. Peace was good. Fingers held in a V for peace. Peace signs on my ditto paper. I was young and free and happy.

And then...The Man reared his ugly head. My teacher (who was a woman, but was my first experience with "The Man") told my I couldn't draw peace signs on my worksheets anymore. She said if I wanted to draw peace signs, I would have to do it at home. So that's what I did. Teacher said, I obeyed. Life went on. The war went on.

Flash forward 36 years later: On The Girl's first day of Kindergarten, she was given a paper to draw a picture of herself. And when she printed her name to the bottom, she followed it with a heart...with a peace sign in the middle. And the war went on.

KINDERGARTEN ALREADY?

2008-08-26T22:47:00.000-07:00

On the first day of Kindergarten I cried a little and so did The Girl. Daddy teared up as well. But the good part is that she loves her new school. I think she was actually bored this summer, despite YMCA camp and the babysitter. She complained that they didn't have enough reading. But what else would you expect from a child of word nerds.

We were sitting at the dining room table on Sunday night finishing her homework sheet (printing big B and little b) when she let out a huge sigh and said, "Mom, I really don't like homework." And my response? "You'll just have to suck it up because you have at least 17 more years of it." And then there was a knock at my door and I was handed my Mother of the Year award for the fifth year in a row. I rule.

SO HOW'VE YOU BEEN...?

2008-06-01T17:38:00.000-07:00

Hi, I'm the owner of this blog. Sort of left it to fend for itself the last several months. Funny thing, though. It won't post by itself, no matter how witty of a blog post I think up in the car on the way home from work. So, here I am thinking...where did I leave off? And who have I talked to in the meantime? Synopsis of the past several months: work, don't clean house, be amazed at The Kid, work, work some more, enjoy my husband, travel to Italy, work, don't clean the house, work, sign The Kid up for kindergarten, work, work, relax for the first weekend in months.

So, what have you been up to?

WHY I AM VOTING FOR HILARY

2008-02-04T22:22:00.000-08:00

I am coming out of the blogging closet to share my reasons for voting for Hilary Clinton for President. The day after my 18th Birthday, I moved into the dorms at San Diego State and began my exciting life as a college coed. It was filled with freedom, fears and firsts. But the most memorable day that fall was Oct. 23, 1984. That day solidified my stance as a woman, as a feminist and put me on the road to self-awareness.

Geraldine Ferraro was the Democratic nominee for Vice President, running with Presidential nominee Walter Mondale. Geraldine Ferraro had the chance to change history, to make history, to be THE ONE. The one woman who was allowed in. The one woman who would truly represent me. That day Geraldine Ferraro stepped onto the stage at the Open Air Theatre (aka The OAT) at SDSU to a packed house. I couldn't get a seat, so I listened atop one of the grassy spots just outside. I remember getting goosebumps from the excitement of being a witness to history. I still have The Daily Aztec from the following day, tucked away with a few pictures from that first year of freedom in the dorms, some old letters and a couple college term papers. And I honestly can't recall a word of Geraldine Ferraro's speech. But I do remember that day was magical.

And despite the fact that Ronald Regan and George H.W. Bush went on to win reelection, I was witness to history. I became a woman that day in the sunshine, listening to the woman who tried to change America. She may not have changed the country, but she did change me. I became a woman. A woman who would stand by my sisters. I became a woman who would try to change my world, even if that only meant changing the topic to politics at the holiday dinnertable with my family. I became a woman who would always quietly whisper in the ear of another woman when her slip was showing, not to point out the miscue, but to ensure others would do the same for me if needed. I became a woman who helped my sisters when I could with a vote or a donation. I became a woman who believes that Hilary Clinton should be the next President of the United States of America.

So folks, before I go back into blogging hibernation, I just want to say that the reason I'm voting for Hilary Clinton is because I believe she is the best person for the job. And it's just so awesome that I get to take my wildly silly daughter into the voting booth with me when I cast my vote for a woman who is running for President. I hope she'll remember.

SINGING GEORGE MICHAEL

2007-11-10T18:06:00.000-08:00

The Hubby is out of town and The Girl has no school on Mon. (holiday) and is off Tue. for parent teacher conferences. Again I must ask, is she eating paste? Can she hop on one foot? Does she pee on the potty? If the answers are no, yes, yes, then we are on track. So we are meeting the in-laws in Santa Barbara tomorrow so they can keep The Girl until Tues. after work. Do you see the beauty of this? Sing it with me George Michael fans:
Freedom
Freedom
Freedom
You've gotta give for what you take

I get to shop by myself at William-Sonoma and Nordstrom. I get to go into work on Sunday to get a jump on a project and NOT feel guilty. I can eat Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch for dinner. I get to sleep diagonally in my bed and no one will pull the covers off. And that's just Sunday! On Monday night, The Hubby returns. If he plays his cards right, he'll even get a good-night kiss if he gets home before 10 p.m. Wink. And then The Child will be returned to me at 5ish on Tues. when I will be happy, rested and ready to be a mommy again. But believe me, I will be singing George Michael as soon as I make the hand off tomorrow.

SHE'S ENGROSSING

2007-11-09T06:35:00.000-08:00

Yesterday The Girl was complaining that her dad was not playing the game Trouble fairly. Then she added, "It's so engrossing." WTF? She's four! So I asked, "Do you know what engrossing means."
"Yes, it's like when you are hearing a really scary story and you get scared and think it's real."
They must be doing something right at her co-op preschool. She's turned into a word nerd just like us! In grade school, she is going to have classmates that think she's a showoff because of her big vocabulary, just like I did! Oh, I'm so proud.

SHE'S SO AWESOME

2007-10-29T23:07:00.000-07:00

Awesome things The Girl can do:

tells me the number on the receipt while waiting for our food at Hamburger Habit or Snapper Jacks
tells me numbers on signs as we drive by
plays the game Trouble EVERY DAY and often kicks her dad's ass. FYI she beat me 2 out of 3 tonight. (V - best gift EVAR)
Can wiggle her ears, waggle her eyebrows, flare her nostrils, roll her eyes and curl her tongue. She's gonna kill at frat parties. Or in Vaudeville.

Awesome stuff The Girl has said recently:

Daddy is older than you because he is bigger
When I roll my tongue, it looks like a private bottom vagina.
Which one of these books is taller Mama? (After I responded correctly...) Good job, Mama! You are getting sooooo smart!

And from the backseat...

The Girl: Mom, why do we have an antenna on the car?
Me: So the songs from the radio station can find their way into our car stereo.
TG: I saved that question for you Mama, because you are much smarter than Daddy even though he is taller.
FYI she asked her dad the same question the day before, but apparently didn't like his answer.

AND NOW FOR WEEK FOUR, I SHALL JUGGLE CHAINSAWS

2007-10-29T22:45:00.000-07:00

Oh, how I love PR. It allows me to write, be creative, decorate my office with pretty posters and use lovely file folders to hold stuff that isn't so pretty. I get to purchase Sharpies and composition books. Sigh, it's swell. I forgot how much joy I find in my job.

The best part about the job? The Kid is still frickin' awesome. Damn, I must have done something right while in the last 4+ years because she still loves school and thinks her after-school care by the neighbor girls is a triple-scoop of fun. Thank gawd. The Hubby is out of town for a couple days for work so I get to do drop-off this week. The Girl just keeps chanting "We get to have some GIRL time." Unfortunately, tonight's Girl Time was preempted by a car crash and fire on the South 101 that kept me parked on the freeway for 2 hours. My lovely 20 minute commute turned into a nightmare. But, tomorrow is another day and I will get to gaze at the ocean (and the road) as I head back up the coast to work. And while there I will use my Sharpie and possibly open a new pack of turquoise Post-It Notes.

I was sick as a dog and so was The Girl. Surprisingly The Hubby stayed germ-free. He would do a little happy dance every morning after I would rattle off all of my aches, pains and complaints. He's usually the sick one. I guess eating a granola bar for lunch the first week didn't really help my immune system. I even woke up with an earache. Grownups don't get earaches! By the next day it was in both ears and I couldn't hear for shit. Even after the antibiotics, everything sounded like I was underwater. It's enough to drive a girl nuts. More nuts. I'm almost back to normal. Whatever shade of normal that may be.

Being the totally-unprepared working mama, I have to go buy candy and face paint during my lunch hour tomorrow. In fact, I better sign off and go rummage through The Girl's drawers to make sure she has a black turtleneck for her cat outfit (ears & tail purchased weeks ago, thankyouverymuch). Gotta love a kid who doesn't want to wear itchy princess costumes. Peace out.

WEEK ONE IS DONE

2007-10-07T15:11:00.000-07:00

My first week as a working mom is done. It went well, if "well" means "holy hell there is no time to clean or do other household chores except before 6:40 a.m. and I fell asleep with The Girl by 9:30 every night." I won't be blogging about work but I must say I do like having an office with a door again. It's been a while. Also, I made fast friends with the IT help dude and that right there is half the battle of corporate survival. So enough about my nameless, faceless corporate existence. Poof, it no longer exists in the blogosphere.

The Girl did unbelievably well at school last week. After her lunch she heads to the "quiet room" where the kids rest quietly (naps not required) for 30 min before she heads back outside to scream and play until the neighbor girls pick her up. She loves being with them (17 & 20 yrs. old). I told them they could run errands etc. with her if they needed to. The Girl was thrilled when they went to Oxnard to try on soccer cleats. Fun times when you're running errands with the sitter & not your mama.

The Hubby has been a champ about getting The Kid to school every day. I pack her lunch, set out her clothes and get her breakfast ready. Then he takes over the rest of the morning duty - dressing, feeding, school drop-off. The only hitch has been that he doesn't know how to style her hair. And by "style" I mean part it on the left and brush. I kept telling him to part it on HER left. To him that meant parting on HER right and sweeping the bangs to HER left. After a quick review on Thurs., all is good.

I think I will be most happy about my role as a working mother when I get my first paycheck. We have already been daydreaming about Christmas presents and other more mundane things we haven't been able to afford. The Kid flushed the toilet the other day and it made some freakish growling noise. The Hubby looked at me and said, "At least if the something breaks now, we can afford to get it fixed." It's so sexy when he talks about spending money on plumbing or replacing the eaves that have dry rot. Sexy sexy sexy.

It is officially October in Ventura. We had a couple crisp evenings followed by dry-ass Santa Anas. Today it was 79 when I came home from the grocery store. My throat feels chapped and both The Hubby & The Girl have the stuffy nose - is it a cold? is it sinuses? - thing going on. But I'm not complaining - sunny and 70-something with blue skies is a nice way to live.

I popped my sushi cherry last night with the family, V, Jonathan and V's new man-toy Hayseed. I ate pokie (or is it pokey?), raw ahi tuna in a delish marinade. Also tried a spider roll (meh). Next time I order any roll, I'll have to remember to get it made with soy paper because why the fuck would you want to eat seaweed?!?! Blech. Anywho, I will leave you with a picture of The Girl, her Auntie V and Hayseed. Good times.

I'M BAAAAAACK

2007-09-28T09:47:00.000-07:00

I took a break from posting because I was so f-ing overwhelmed by the events of the last couple of weeks - crash, death, survival, memorial, scattering ashes, immense love for husband and lastly, new job. Throw in normal mothering duties and I was on overload. But I am back. I'm not sure what I want to write about so I'm going to list a couple things that are on my mind and if the feeling strikes, I will elaborate later.

The time I picked up The Hubby at LAX with Tom's ashes
The time I transferred Tom's ashes into another container for scattering
Being on the outer circle of grief/watching the inner circle of friends grieve
The power of my husband to do what's right - damn, I love this guy
We must set up a family trust - thoughts on mortality
The day my husband told me to go shopping and I came home with a new work wardrobe
The Girl's school and after care arrangements - woo hoo, no more working in the classroom
My new job starts Monday and so does the mother guilt, but the money might balance it out

HOMECOMING

2007-09-15T09:45:00.000-07:00

The Hubby is coming home today, bringing with him the ashes of his friend and coworker. We will take Tom's ashes to his ex and his sons, then head home. This is the day my husband comes home and I am so glad.

SAD DAY

2007-09-11T18:44:00.000-07:00

The Hubby has been in Sarasota for the magazine's annual boat tests. Today the helicopter crashed while shooting photos of one of the boats. Both the photographer and videographer were killed and the pilot is in critical condition. I heard from The Hubby just after the crash to let me know he was ok (he stays on the docks, thank God). He's called a couple more times and text messaged, but he is just heartbroken. The photographer was a friend to all, dad of two boys and was great at what he did. And the pilot is a truly good guy. Hope he pulls through. Link to AP story here. It's a sad day.

NO NEWS IS ... I DUNNO

2007-09-11T00:13:00.001-07:00

I haven't heard anything official on the job front. My friend on the inside assured me last week that my name was at the top of the list. I am beginning to panic.

We are at the in-laws' for a couple days while The Hubby is testing fast boats in Florida. I love not doing dishes.

In other news, I have recently become a freak about stamps. Rubber stamps. I bought some bird stamps by Martha and have ordered a bunch on eBay. I know, I know. Get a job.

THUD

2007-08-31T14:11:00.000-07:00

The Hubby fell out of bed last night (actually early this a.m.). He landed with quite a THUD on the wood floor and I flew out of bed thinking the ceiling just crashed in on us. While I was concerned with his well-being (he bumped his head on his nightstand), I was kind of miffed, too. The crash woke me from a wonderful dream where Payton Manning & I were just about to get friendly. Sorry, Payton, it'll have to wait 'till next time. Can you tell I'm glad football season has started?

Bad wife, bad, bad wife.

PS - I posted an updated pic on my Blogger bio. The new one is from Lake Tahoe after The Girl & I built a fairy house near a stream.

AND I QUOTE...

2007-08-31T14:02:00.000-07:00

My dream boyfriend George Clooney is in the new film "Michael Clayton" about a lawyer who cleans up corporate messes at the price of his soul. The director, Tony Gilroy, gave the best quote I've read in ages:

"All these corporations that you talk about, they are all inhabited by people. It is not some other occult superpower that is deciding this," said Gilroy, who also wrote the script. "Every day, they go back and make a small paper cut on their morality."

Amazing imagery...paper cut on their morality.

THE CITY & THE LAKE (Part 1 of at least 2)

2007-08-29T19:47:00.000-07:00

Vacation was splendid. We had the BEST weather in San Francisco - clear as a bell and warm. A rare combo in The City in the summer. My highlight was the newly renovated kids' playground in Golden Gate park. It has this enormous rope climbing structure (which will be the cause of litigation I'm sure), a man-made creek with river rocks, giant swaths of grass and sand, a cool dessert sand area with little tiny caves that only sand-eating tots can fit into, and loads of that neat squishy foam surface that makes you feel like you are on the moon. There is also an amazing concrete slide (again with the litigation) built into the hillside that has been there for years and years. The kids go down on cardboard for speed or the seat of their pants if they want the slow version (and the parents don't mind a hole in them). We met up with Hubby's college room mate Pete, his wife Kelly and their lovely three-year-old son Theo. The Girl loved Theo because (per usual) she could boss him around. We also went on the carousel that has been at the park since the 30s.

We spent time with Hubby's high school buddy Ian, his wife Andrea and seriously cute son Henry (left with The Girl). I think I am in love with Henry. If he were 40 years older and gainfully employed -- lookout. He also posed as a magician with The Girl and I plan to use that photo as blackmail when they are teens.

We stayed at the Hyatt near Union Square using Hubby's Hyatt points. They upgraded us to the Regency level (breakfast, snacks, sodas, fruit, cheap drinks). Very classy. I highly recommend it... As The Hubby said, "I could get used to being pretend rich." He was mortified that I took two bottles of water with me whenever we left the Regency Club. I told him it's how the rich STAY rich.

Parting shot...The Girl's new slippers from Chinatown.

FROM THE BACKSEAT

2007-08-29T19:32:00.000-07:00

Conversation with The Girl...

Me: Guess where Auntie V went last weekend?

TG: Where?

Me: Las Vegas!

TG: Without you?!?!?

A BITCH SAID IT BEST...

2007-08-27T13:33:00.000-07:00

I got a lovely Birthday present today...Alberto Gonzales resigned. As an added bonus, sister girl over at Angry Black Bitch put the hallelujahs aside and set the mood with a little ode to Alberto (with the help of the lovely Miss Dolly Parton). Heck of a job, Gonzo!

UMMMM...DID I FORGET TO TELL YOU?

2007-08-25T11:25:00.000-07:00

We were on vacation. Had a lovely time. I will post pics and a recap shortly, but wanted to give a big SQUEAL out to the interwebs because I had a REAL LIVE JOB INTERVIEW! I guess the planets were in alignment because as we headed for SF, a friend and former co-worker sent an email saying the PR position at her large corporation was open. She wanted to know if I was ready to get back in the game. Dude, I have never been so happy for a laptop and wireless. After scouring my sent email for a copy of my resume, I found it, sent it off and voila! had an interview scheduled for the day after we returned home. I can't explain the confidence boost I got as I reviewed a couple of my past PR plans and put together questions for the interviewers. I put on grown-up clothes and was instantly transformed from VenturaMom to VenturaMom: Awesome PR Professional. I killed in the interview. KILLED! Fingers are crossed & prayers have been murmured. Do your part please and send positive vibes out to the Universe (or whatever it is that you do) on my behalf. Thanks BloggyFriends (like the Super Friends but without the spandex)!

SMELLS LIKE ORANGE SPRAY MASKING VOMIT!

2007-08-14T20:31:00.001-07:00

The Hubby spent his birthday barfing. He came home from work at 2 p.m. on Monday hurling. He spent today working from home, napping and complaining. I am completely incapable of sympathy right now because I am a bitch. I'm doing so much mother fucking laundry it's crazy. My Dad picked up his dog this weekend, so I am trying to rid our house of 3 weeks of dog hair. We are leaving Thurs. for our SF & Lake Tahoe vacation-palooza. So far I have packed... The Girl's underwear, socks and swimsuits. FUCK. Need more time. Need a not sick husband. Need to chill out.

Our very vague itinerary for the Bay Area part of our vacation-palooza:

Thurs.

arrive late afternoon, head to Oakland for a visit with The Hubby's funny high school friend and her family (she drinks at playdates at the park!)
Zachary's Pizzeria for dinner - best pizza ever
drive to SF & check into hotel

Fri.

tourist stuff with The Girl and The Hubby's college friend & his family; includes playground at Golden Gate Park and Ghirardelli Square for a picture of The Girl & me by the fountain (to the right she was 3 mo.)
dinner & shopping in Chinatown - Kung Fu shoes will be purchased

Sat.

playtime/eating with another of Hubby's friends & his family
leave for Tahoe in the afternoon

Zeum looks quite amazing - has anyone been?

Then we are off to north Lake Tahoe for some R&R (reading and rum). The Hubby has promised me time alone to gamble, drink, read, shop, or whatever. We are also going to be putting The Girl in the kids camp thing at the hotel at least one afternoon/evening so we can get wild. We will probably end up napping, but at least it will be without The Girl.

VISITING HOURS

2007-08-10T21:55:00.000-07:00

The Hubby went to Santa Maria after work tonight to visit his dad in the hospital. This is day four of his stay following heart arrhythmia (crazy heartbeat). Turns out the heart problems were caused by a nasty infection in his knee that had gone completely unnoticed until it swelled to 3x its normal size yesterday. He had surgery on it today and they will start testing his heart tomorrow. My Dad had the same issue - his Dr. thought he was having heart attack, admitted to hospital, eventually found massive infection in toe, surgery and IV antibiotics cleared it up, heart was fine. Hopefully we will follow the same scenario for The Hubby's Dad.

So get better, Tom. The Girl needs her Grampy healthy.

(photo of The Girl & Grampy at the Santa Maria Fair, July 2007)

COUNTY FAIR

2007-08-10T01:55:00.000-07:00

Daddy & The Girl at the Ventura County Fair 2004-2007

RIGHT ABOUT NOW

2007-08-09T16:18:00.000-07:00

Right now The Girl is making animal finger puppets dance in the kitchen. They are grooving to Fatboy Slim's The Rockafeller Skank. I asked her if she wanted me to put on a different song and she said, "No way! This is totally perfect." Totally. And the hippo puppet has mad dance skillz.

GEORGE CLOONEY KISSED ME FULL ON THE MOUTH

2007-08-07T23:56:00.001-07:00

Apparently in dreamland, George Clooney and I keep running into each other at events and tradeshows (!?). He always greets me by saying, "I was hoping I would run into you here." Then we gaze at each other, chuckle and float off to a lovely piano bar. Finally I decide that even in dreamland, running into each other isn't enough. So I tell George that this whole just-my-luck-running-into-you shtick isn't enough. It is then that he tells me he knew I would be there at every event/tradeshow. He called my office and pretended to be from each event/tradeshow to confirm my attendance. Then he reached his warm hands up to my face, held me and kissed me. Then he said he thought I didn't want a relationship. Oh, my dear sweet George, how wrong you were.

BETTER THAN A BONUS CHECK? NO, BUT...

2007-08-02T15:38:00.000-07:00

Mothering isn't a glamorous job. And it pays for shit. And the self-confidence building? Not so much. But just occasionally, you get a little glimmer of validation. Today I got it in the form of a comment at the park.

The Girl and I went to the park where we met an 8-year-old girl. The Girl shared her sand toys with the older girl and they played for a bit. We went for a walk across the park without the other girl, leaving our sand toys behind. When we returned about 20 minutes later, a couple little kids (under 2) were playing with the sand toys. The dad asked The Girl if they could continue playing with them and she answered, "Sure. If you bring a toy to the park, you have to share it with everyone." Suddenly, the 8yo realized her shovel and bag were also being played with by the little ones. She ran over, grabbed them and said they were hers. Then she asked Grace why she shared her toys. Again The Girl answered that it was a rule to share her toys at the park. The older girl just shrugged. And at that moment I felt validated. I have done a good job raising my daughter to share. Next up, world peace.

A COUPLE + A BABY = A FAMILY

2007-07-29T16:03:00.000-07:00

The Girl will be four tomorrow. Four years ago I was a crabby miserable pregnant lady with swollen ankles. I had read all the birthing books, written a detailed birth plan, and compiled the phone list and email for the birth announcement. I had obsessed over pregnancy & the birth for seven months (when I peed on a stick I thought I was just one month along, but at my 4 month ultrasound, they said I was 5 months along, so yippee, I got to skip ahead a month). My most pressing issue was whether or not I had decent jammies to wear after the birth (FYI - comfy jammie pants/shorts and lots of camisoles with built-in bras are a must, Jo). I never really liked being pregnant. Maybe it was the fact that I had a hair-trigger gag reflex. I barfed nearly every day, but didn't feel nauseous, I just would suddenly barf. I had great fun telling The Hubby where I barfed each day - in the Target parking lot! at the corner of Seaward & Thompson! on the neighbor's lawn! in the sink (kitchen & bathroom)!

But on the morning of July 30th, I didn't care about the barfing. I woke up around 6:45 a.m. thinking I was peeing in bed. I ran to the bathroom, sat down and realized my water just broke. The day had arrived. I didn't wake The Hubby because I thought he needed his sleep. As I went back to bed, I realized the contractions my midwife described were just starting, "Picture a thick hemp rope wrapped around your waist and being twisted in the back." It was very mild so I laid in bed and waited till after 7 to wake The Hub and call the midwife. My regular midwife Denise was a scream, but alas, she wasn't on call, so we had the other one - capable and nice but not Denise. At her office (conveniently located across from the hospital) at 9 a.m. she said "Yep, the baby's coming." She also "stirred things up" aka stripped the membrane and said to wait an hour or so to go to the hospital.

We went home and I sat around calling family and friends, staying calm, but waiting for it to get worse. The Hubby's parents weren't answering (dial up! cell phone off!). I woke my sis in Maui (at a time share vacation so she will always be gone for The Girl's birthday) and packed my bag. The hospital is literally five blocks from our house. I could have walked. But we drove instead. The pain was getting more intense and I remember walking into labor and delivery with tears in my eyes saying, "I'm having my baby today." It was 11 a.m. when they put me in the room. I barfed in the sink for good luck. Then my girlfriend Gerri arrived with her camera and a CD player.

After the baby was monitored and I was settled in, we heard from the in-laws that they were on their way. I had invited them into the delivery room, along with my dad, but he had vertigo and couldn't drive. Even though it's only been four years, things are kind of fuzzy after that. There was some checking of the cooch, conversations, stronger contractions, cursing, classical music and hand holding. Then I met the most amazing man...the anesthesiologist. He ushered folks out of the room and went to work quickly giving me an epidural (part of the birth plan). I swear I felt better within one minute even though he said it could take up to 10 minutes. I professed my love to him and told him he deserved a raise. He laughed the laugh of a confident man. I just smiled a lot as The Baby made her way down the birth canal. After that, it was all lollipops and puppies. Until I had to push.

The midwife turned off the epidural drip so I could better feel the pushing. Ouch. As the epidural wears off, the midwife said feeling (read pain) would come back as if someone is opening a window, starting with a crack and eventually spreading across your lower half. My window felt like it was above my right ovary and someone was twisting and pulling it with pliers. I closed my eyes after the first push and didn't open them until I delivered. I was hot. Really sweating. My shins were sweating. There was a nursing student who was in charge of keeping a supply of cold towels in a bucket of ice water and draping them on my chest and wiping my face and head. The chant of, "Push, push, push! You're doing great! Almost there!" went on for over an hour. Her head was crowning but she would slip back after each contraction. I didn't want to cuss at the baby so I loudly said, "I WANT TO SEE MY BABY. GET MY BABY OUT. I WANT HER OUT." Obviously I needed to get motivated for the big finale so The Hubby said, "Touch her head." I gave him my hand and he put it on her furry little noggin. But even that couldn't get the baby out. The midwife said if she gave me an episiotomy, she would come out, so I said FUCK YEAH or something along those lines. With one snip, the baby literally shot out at 5:36 p.m. Then there was a flurry of activity (cord around the neck twice) and the baby went immediately to the warming table. GO WITH HER, I told the hubby. They waved an oxygen tube under her nose, made sure she was perfect (she was) and eventually put her on my chest. She rooted around and was still sort of slimy, but here she was finally. My little girl. We did this. I brought her into the world. She was held and cooed over by all. Pictures were taken. I was in love. Then she went off with The Hubby and a baby nurse to get weighed, measured, poked, and bathed. My girlfriend Vonnie arrived in time to see Nurse Ratchet holding The Baby upside down under running water and scrubbing off the goo. Ahhh, friends, family, and a brand new baby.

Somewhere along the line there was a placenta delivered and stitches given and I finally sat up and moved into a wheelchair to head upstairs to our room (much quieter than the rooms on the floor with labor & delivery and the nursery). As I was wheeled past the 7th floor classroom full of expectant parents learning about the birth process, I shouted, "It's not so bad. But get the epidural."

After The Hubby, The Baby & I settled into our room, we ate dinner from Ferraro's. Food has never tasted so good. I was ravenous. Birthing a baby is hard work. Later The Hubby went home to grab a shower and a change of clothes. It was the first night of the Ventura County Fair, so The Baby & I watched the fireworks. I told her they were to celebrate her arrival. Later that night, The Hubby didn't want to put her back in the bassinet after she woke, so he let her sleep with him in the other hospital bed. The tradition of the family bed began that first night.

And so on July 30th, a baby girl was born. A couple became a family. And life hasn't been the same since.

HOME AGAIN

2007-07-26T11:16:00.000-07:00

The Kid & I were in Santa Maria many days ago. I saw spinners on a Dodge minivan. Then we came home for 1.5 days. Then we went to Long Beach for four days with The Hubby. Headed down to Carlsbad Sun. to see my dad. I took him in for more foot surgery on Monday while The Hubby & Kid went to Seaworld for 12 hours. Really. They went home Tues. night and I came home Wed. evening. I am now doing laundry and trying to remember where everything goes.

The Girl's Birthday party is Sat. If you are in the area, come by to jump in the Little Mermaid bounce house and eat a piece or three of Hello Kitty cake. Since it will be a small party with three other families and the in-laws, I don't have to go whole hog on the cleaning & prep. But still, there is cleaning to be done. The only thing I hate more than cleaning is putting away laundry. Now I'm off to do both...

AN HOUR AND A HALF

2007-07-18T00:49:00.000-07:00

Motherhood is hard. So is marriage. And both are difficult when your spouse travels. I don't mean to be vague, I just want a break. Not from marriage. Not from motherhood. Just a little rest from the grind. A fucking day off. Not coming anytime soon, though. Hubby got back at 8 p.m. from an exhausting four-day trip. We are tagging along on his next trip (Long Beach) this Thu-Sun. At least we'll all be together in the same spot. Then I have to head down south to take my Dad in for yet another foot surgery on Mon. Who the fuck knows how long I will have to stay down there taking care of him. My Sis will be in Maui on vacation and Dad didn't bother to check schedules until six days before his surgery. I just want a break.

I am actually looking forward to my yearly check-up today. I'm dropping The Girl off with friends so I will have an hour and a half off. I will enjoy the time in the waiting room. I will probably even enjoy the exam. Sad. Of course I may just break down in tears while sitting on the table in my paper gown and she will up my meds. Either way, I still have an hour and a half off.

AND NO, THEY AREN'T BEARS EITHER

2007-07-11T18:14:00.000-07:00

As we were heading to the Santa Barbara Zoo today, a Bare Naked Ladies song came on the radio. I was mumbling along to it when The Girl exclaimed, "You've got to do chinchilla paws with this song!" She proceeded to put her tiny hands next to her round cheeks and wave them as, presumably, a chinchilla would.

FYI chinchilla paws ARE the perfect accompaniment to BNL music.

Then she asked who sang it. "Bare Naked Ladies," I answered. "And no, they aren't naked and no, they aren't ladies," I added.

Her reply, "But are they bears?"

(photo is a chinchilla dance reinactment)

SUMMER = CRAZY

2007-07-07T12:24:00.000-07:00

It's summer. There is no preschool. That means I am The Girl's cruise director 24/7. No time to blog. Here's a recap of the last couple weeks:

My dad visited with his dog
The Hubby crashed a watercraft (think jet ski) but is fine other than the $600 bill to tow it from the surf/sand back to the trailer
The Hubby got a rockin' Toyota Tundra on a 1-year lease at his magazine. It's HUGE.
My bro & sis-in-law surprised us last weekend with a visit.
I made $90 at our yard sale
V has been visiting for a week + and we've had fun doing nothing fancy, just eating, playing, chatting
The Girl was in the Pushem Pullem Parade for the fourth consecutive year (see pics on Flickr)
The Girl's tap dance class will be performing at the Ventura County Fair next month
Her 4th Birthday is coming up soon - invitations go out this week!
The Girl got two bee stings in one week
Other highlights include crafts, the beach and parks.

VACATION, ALL I EVER WANTED

2007-06-17T20:34:00.000-07:00

I saw the Go-Go's in concert August 28, 1982, the day after my 16th birthday. I wore a white tuxedo shirt with a pink & black stripped satin cummerbund. Man, we were cool in the 80s, weren't we?

But I digress. We are finally planning a family vacation. The last vacation we went on together was to San Francisco in the fall of 2003 to see friends, introduce The Girl (then 3 months), and go to the Bridge School benefit concert. It's time once again for The Hubby to take more than one day off at a time since he is at his maximum vacation accrual. While The Girl has gone on lots of mini-trips because of The Hubby's work (Long Beach, San Diego, San Francisco), I think she's ready for a week-long trip. I know I am.

We are going to start in Monterey and head to the aquarium the next morning. We'll stay for dinner and then drive to the Bay Area for a two- or three-night stay. We'll be able to take her to The City to see the sites and eat ice cream at Ghirardelli. We'll see our friends in SF, Oakland, and Berkeley and maybe take her to Cal and show her where I used to work.

Then we'll take a drive to Lake Tahoe. The Hubby has loads of points at the Hyatt so we're staying here for four nights free. I can't wait to do dorky family stuff in Tahoe like swim at the resort, take a hike, a sunset cruise (The Hubby & I did that in '96), rent a boat, eat ice cream every night. Tips on what to do with a kid in Tahoe are welcome.

Of course now I have to dream about it until August, but still...having this on the horizon is helping me get through the summer now that preschool is out. With a pending vacation, the beach and crafts, I will survive. FYI- Crafts are important to nearly-4-year-olds. But maybe I'll need some Malibu & Diet Coke, too. And the Go-Go's.

OMG: THE FATE OF YOUR SOUL

2007-06-13T21:01:00.000-07:00

I took this quiz on Beliefnet because it says:

Even if YOU don't know what faith you are, Belief-O-Matic™ knows. Answer 20 questions about your concept of God, the afterlife, human nature, and more, and Belief-O-Matic™ will tell you what religion (if any) you practice...or ought to consider practicing.

Warning: Belief-O-Matic™ assumes no legal liability for the ultimate fate of your soul.

And the results are in...
My beliefs most closely align with the Unitarian Universalists (100%) which I figured. But surprisingly, bringing up the rear at #27 was the faith in which I was raised, Roman Catholic. In fact, I'm more aligned with the Orthodox Jews (20%) than Catholics (15%). Boy, those nuns that taught me for 12 years of Catholic school and the priests who said mass for the 18 years I attended sure got a failing grade when they tried to save my soul.

What's your spiritual alignment?

OLD PEOPLE & TECHNOLOGY DON'T MIX

2007-06-10T14:18:00.000-07:00

When we went to Disneyland a couple weeks ago, we stayed at a hotel the night before with the The Hubby's parents. On the morning we were heading to the park, MIL & FIL were in a tizzy because they had a message on their cell from MIL's brother Kent saying he was downstairs in the lobby and was going to have breakfast with his daughter Sandee (who happens to work at Disneyland & got us in free. SCORE!). FIL was searching the lobby and hotel restaurants for Kent while MIL was leaving messages for him on his cell. When The Hubby & I caught up with them, they were just baffled how Kent, who lives in GEORGIA!!!, could have known we were staying at the Marriott. MIL said she mentioned the Disneyland trip to him in a phone call earlier in the week, but just couldn't fathom that he would be in Anaheim with no advanced warning. Finally I asked, "Ummm...did you check the timestamp on the message?" Apparently this crazy new cellphone technology makes them loose their minds. The Hubby grabbed the phone and went through the missed call log. No call from him there. Then he listened to their saved messages. They had never deleted a message. Finally, The Hubby & I diagnosed the problem. They had missed a call from their friend, but the friend did not leave a message. MIL, thinking there was a message waiting & not just a missed call, dialed her voicemail. She heard a voice mail from a trip to Seattle two years ago that had not been deleted. Kent confirmed everything when he called 5 minutes later. The message was so old that it no longer held a timestamp. The Hubby graciously deleted all messages, all call logs and anything else that could baffle the old folks. Then he walked away from his parents and quietly said to me, "That's the first time I've really felt that my parents are old." Kind of sad. But believe me, we will be repeating that story, poking fun at his parents and getting tons of laughs for years to come.

BABY LOVES DISCO

2007-06-08T00:02:00.000-07:00

I won two tickets to Baby Loves Disco in LA this Sat. afternoon. How fun will that be? The Girl and me out on the town, dancing and doing silly things. Who's coming with us? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Anyone?

Thanks to Robert Mahar of the AWESOME site Mahar Drygoods who sponsored the ticket giveaway. If you haven't been to his store...dude, just go and be amazed, AMAZED, I tell you.

LEGENDARY

2007-06-03T09:42:00.000-07:00

More stories of note from our LEGENDARY trip to Las Vegas:

All cocktail waitresses at Bally's are old. I mean 65+ old. There was one who was probably just 50, but she had a knee brace. It's where old cocktail waitresses go to die. One night we nicknamed our cocktail waitress Grandma (no to her face of course!). But we had an even older one (70+) on our last night. She was called Grandma's Grandma and had wicked pencil-outlined lips filled in with a nasty light pink. She would hover next to you until you tipped after each drink. We also decided that they would be better off (as would we) if Bally's let their cocktail waitresses ride Rascals. Just think of all the drinks they could carry!

I initiated V into the wonders of Deadliest Catch thanks to their Labor Day marathon. Dude, that show rocks. Especially when you are wasted in Vegas.

The customer service at Bally's was exceptional. The front desk gal got us into adjoining rooms. The Spa attendant was hysterical. The Spa manager was fun. The dealers rocked. Even the one from Minnesota! The only downside to Bally's...no restaurants or room service after midnight. WTF? V & I had to go to the vending machine at 1 a.m. when a wicked case of the munchies hit.

Favorite dealers at Bally's: Ladanna, Pinky (swear to gawd), Minnesota guy. We actually shouted down a dealer who thought it was her turn to take over his table. HE'S JUST ON BREAK. HE'S HERE TILL 4!!!! We wanted Minnesota guy back. And we got him.

Favorite table mates: V of course, who never hits on a 16 and sometimes hits on a 14 when the dealer is showing a 3 (GAH!); impeccably dressed Jewish mommy of 2 from Dallas who asked if V was my friend. Then asked if she knew she was "FUCKING the table taking that hit?" Priceless. Also her husband stood at the table a while and commented that they never met people like them (I assumed cynical, dirty, mocking and very drunk); also enjoyed the company of the late 40s gal from Minnesota who sat down and said she was "kind of quiet." By the end of the hour she was asking where that "fucking waitress" was with her beer and hollering each time she won. I live to teach, people.

But by far, the hot doctor who played blackjack with us until 4:30 a.m. was the icing on the cake. An adorable 30-year-old orthopedic surgeon from DC sat down at our table and nearly charmed the pants off all of us. Seriously. OK, so he was just a resident, but still hot. When a Japanese tourist tried to sit in V's chair while she was in the restroom, Doc let him know it was taken IN JAPANESE!!! Right then and there I told him he was so hottttt I could kiss him on the mouth. He giggled and said he had been stationed in Okinawa. WTF? Oh yeah, he had been in the military. He was married, but contemplating divorce since his very successful surgeon wife took a job in another state. Oh you poor, good looking, sweet, sweet doctor man. Rest your awesome head on my shoulder and just let it all out. Mmmmmm...hot vulnerable doctor. I actually asked if he wanted us to make a doctor sandwich. Again, seriously.

THE GREAT RASCAL CAPER

2007-06-01T20:59:00.000-07:00

V & I met up for a four-day, three-night stay in Vegas. No hubby, no kid and three comped spa treatments each. Food, drinks, antacid, fun. Legendary.

A couple days before departing, I read this story about people renting motorized wheelchair/scooters (like the Rascal) in Vegas because they are too lazy to walk a million miles down The Strip to get their next gigantic frozen daiquiri in a yard-long plastic Eiffel Tower or Stratosphere replica. Lazy fucks. Grab a taxi like the rest of us or go join the Midwesterners on the sidewalk. That got me thinking (and drinking) and talking with V. We decided we needed to Rascal-jack someone. Not the healthy but lazy folks. No, we wanted to jack a person who really needed it since we would have a better chance of out running them due to disability or age. We really wanted a Rascal of our own and decided that the elevator would be our best bet for a successful Rascal-jacking. Just get in, then push the person out of the Rascal and exit on the next floor, leaving the Rascalee laying in the elevator unable to follow. Of course we would hit the button for the top floor giving us just a little more time to elude capture before the Rascalee could claw to the emergency phone. But alas, no Rascal riders ever fell prey to our deviously simple plan. But damn if we didn't laugh until Bailey's shot out of our noses every time we passed a Rascal in the casino.

Legendary. More stories to follow.

EMBRACING THE PINK

2007-05-22T15:17:00.000-07:00

I hate the whole "Princess" phenomenon. Disney is killing me with anti-feminist crap for my kid. So far The Girl has only a couple things with identifiable princesses: lip gloss on a string from a birthday party (may get "lost" soon), a Cinderella nightgown from her nana, and a couple hand-me-down princess costumes from her cousins. And of all the princess movies, she's only seen one - Little Mermaid. But somehow she has picked up the 411 on Sleeping Beauty. Today she dressed herself in her Snow White costume, used the detachable cape as her blanket and asked me to come into her room and wake her with a kiss (I know she is mixing princess, but whatever, we don't have a Sleeping Beauty costume). So I did. I told her she was smart and beautiful, then kissed her, then told her to make her bed. And she did. Ugh. One day I will tell her Prince Charming is gay and she has to know herself & completely love herself before she will meet the man of her dreams.

NEWS & NOTES

2007-05-20T17:05:00.000-07:00

We went to Disneyland last week with the in-laws. I've posted some of the pictures on flickr. I'll recap soon enough, including a story of how NOT to traumatize your child (duh, maybe don't take her on Pirates of the Caribbean?!?!). We are bad parents.

Since the original "witch" encounter with The Girl last month, I have seen the witch lady three more times around town (sans hat). I just don't have the heart/balls to make eye contact or say hello. I also don't have the balls to take another look at her feet to see if she has taken care of those nasty toenails.

The Girl has said frickin' a couple more times. Since I didn't have a chance to freak out the first time, after the most recent incident I said, "That is a bad word. You aren't supposed to say it." And she asks, "Which word? Frickin? That's a bad word? Huh." She also said, "Holy crap!" the other day. Yep, that's my doing as well. At least I know she listens to me sometimes.

The Girl's preschool is over for the semester. She starts a four-week summer session this week but after that...dun, dun, dun...it's all me, all the time until mid August. Oh how I love late August. Luckily I can toss in some swimming lessons and another round of tap dance classes to give me a chance to lounge about for 45 minutes a couple times a week.

BEE MOVIE

2007-05-20T15:14:00.000-07:00

The Hubby took The Girl to the zoo today. I was relaxing in the front room, reading a book, enjoying the peace and quite when I noticed a hum. I kept reading, but the hum was getting louder. Soon it rose to a steady buzz and I put the book down to investigate. It was like a scene from a B-movie: bees flying, swarming, buzzing like crazy all over our front porch. Holy crap. There were literally several hundred bees. I watched in amazement and then grabbed the camera. That's less than half of them trying to make a couple of Ikea flower pots into their new colony.

I called The Hubby on his cell at the zoo and updated him on our bee swarm. He thought it best to wait them out until dusk, then zap 'em with bee spray. I secured the windows and doors (closed and locked because bees may be able to open doors/windows!).

After reading about them online, I deduced that they were regular honey bees who were swarming (looking to establish a new colony). So I grabbed the bee spray, cracked the door open about an inch and let it fly. It killed quite a few and more started to dissipate. I got a little braver and ventured out the backdoor, armed of course with the bee spray, and went around the front of the house. Honey-filled bees are rather docile according to the interweb but they still seemed pretty menacing in a B-movie kind of way. So I sprayed around the flower pots a bit then looked up on the roof. I guess they like our roof tiles because the couple hundred surviving bees are now camped up there. And since I have used about half the can of bee spray, it no longer shoots 12-16 feet. So the bees will stay put until The Hubby comes home. I think I will go back to reading, but first I'm gonna go cover up my fireplace opening. Or maybe I will just go read in my bedroom with a towel shoved under the door just in case.

EDIT: The bees went away on their own for the most part, so I spared the stragglers. I read more about swarms and it said sometimes they just move on if they don't find a good place to colonize. So either our Spanish-tiled roof isn't a good place to make honey or our attic is going to start buzzing any day now. The Girl is a bit freaked out by the bee carcases that she is finding around the yard (Don't touch!) and the neighbor said he found a dozen dead ones in his house yesterday. So hopefully that is the end of our Bee Movie.

MATH GENIUS

2007-05-18T16:09:00.000-07:00

The Hubby & I can't do math. That's why we both went into journalism (he editorial, me PR). I have an absolute mental block on my eight and nine times tables. I think I missed that week in 3rd grade. Seriously. Dear departed Sister Columba was a short, stout Irish nun who taught me quite a bit, but failed to add the times tables to my rote memory despite the wooden pointer and vocal repetition. So this is what it's come to I guess...

We are going to have to buy/make these t-shirts for The Girl.

GIFT TO MYSELF

2007-05-12T22:59:00.000-07:00

If I was crazy with money, I would buy this bracelet for myself for Mother's Day. Instead I will buy myself a chai and read a library book (not Charlotte's Web)...

HOW TO THREATEN A PRESCHOOLER

2007-05-12T12:02:00.000-07:00

I have tried nearly everything to get my daughter to do things like stop jumping off high things or pick up her room. Nothing works. Bribes, also known as rewards, don't work. Threats of bodily harm don't work. Actual bodily harm doesn't work. Discussion of appropriate behavior does not work. Praise for good behavior? Doesn't frickin' work. So I shall list all the ways that don't work in order to brainstorm a new idea that will.

Bad parent: Don't do that or I will give you a whuppin'.
Concerned parent: Please stop that honey, you could get hurt.
Loud parent: GET DOWN! I am NOT taking you to the emergency room!
Graphic yet touchy-feely: If you fall, you are going to crack your head open and all of your brains will come out. How will that make you feel? It will make me soooo sad.
Shame based: Stop that before someone who works here comes over tells you to stop.
Bribe threat: If you don't stop, you won't get any gum/cookies/ice cream.
Instant bribe: Stop it now and I will give you this gum. (Two minutes later threaten to take the gum back for non-compliance.)
Errand-running parent: Stop that right now. We don't have time to go to the emergency room today. We still have to get dad's shirts at the dry cleaner.
Teaching to hate the poor: Pick up your toys or I will take them to the Goodwill. I'm sure the less fortunate kids will take good care of them.

So by now I should have some fabulous ideas...but no. I ain't got nuthin. I am praying it is a phase.

OPERATION AGGRAVATION

2007-05-04T22:38:00.000-07:00

This is what The Girl's agenda looked like on Friday:

6 am - wake up early (WTF? I usually sleep til 7:30! oh well!) and watch PBS while Daddy tries to snooze on the couch with me
7 - wake Mama up again, this time using the patented Cock-a-doodle-do (CADD) Method; Daddy goes back to bed
7:15 - annoy Mama by peeing in the shower (with Mama is in the shower too)
7:45 - wake Daddy up again using the CADD Method
8 - Cuddle up on couch wrapped in towels and comforter to watch more TV
8:30 - start snoring on the couch when Mama tries to feed me breakfast
9 - wake slowly and grudgingly as Mama tries to put tights and leotard on for tap class
9:30 - Wolf down a pb&j on the way to Starbucks (sheesh! Mama HAS to have a chai) then decide I need to pee just as we are getting back into the car
9:45 - tap my little heart out
11 - begin full frontal assault on Mama's nerves while at Costco by trying to touch everything and refusing to stay seated in cart (despite bribe of gum)
11:45 - back at home completely undress in order to go potty; get body wedged in toilet, butt in the water; drop tiara in toilet as I am helped out of predicament by Mama; gleefully climb into the bathtub for second bath of the day
12-12:45 pm - ignore hearty lunch, ignore new chalk for blackboard and continue to annoy Mama during her computer time
12:50 - ask to draw with chalk on front porch but actually run away to neighbor's house
12:52 - grudgingly return home when nosy neighbor thinks I shouldn't be outside alone
12:53 - Mama is mortified! Hahahahahahaha!
1:30 - wear Mama down so she agrees to take me swimming with friend
2-3 - as I get into the pool, say "The water is frickin' warm!" in front of friend and parent of friend; get out and pee on the grass behind planter at the pool (cuz I can't just pee in the pool like the rest of the frickin' kids); jump back in; swim; swim; swim; unknowingly splash Mama a lot; continue splashing after Mama points it out and asks me to stop; swim really well; jump in to Mama more
3-3:30 - get out, get dressed, have snacks, head for home
3:45 - look at fish store before going to Von's; writhe on floor after viewing all fish and anemones, dirtying pants a little
4 - continue Operation Aggravation in the brief 5-minute trip to Von's by first laying in the basket of the cart, then repeatedly squirming, completely dirtying my THIRD outfit of the day in the process.
4:30-5 - blah blah OpAg still going strong; play in backyard; chase cats around the yard; plead several times to be liberated from toy-filled backyard to unsafe & unmonitored front yard; say please; find only muddy spot in yard and squish it between toes; wipe most off outside, but attempt to "wash" feet in toilet; make mess; yell for help from mom; enjoy third bath (not counting swimming pool); eat apple & juice in the tub!
5:30 - Mama said I can't get out of bathtub until Daddy is home.
5:32 - Get out of bathtub without telling Mama. Oops, Dad's not home yet. Play in room with blocks and other fun stuff completely naked and wet because Mama says she's too crabby to deal with me.
6 - Daddy's home! Greet him as long lost hero.
6:02 - Begin Operation Aggravation on Daddy.
6:10 - Walk with parents to dinner up the street; dawdle; lose one fuchsia croc in middle of crosswalk as 10 cars wait; get indignant; drive Daddy over the edge while Mama walks ahead acting as if she doesn't know us; cry
6:30 - eat; talk loud; try to escape under table (BTW did you know there is gum under there?); put shoes on table; put feet on table; attempt to lay on table
7-8 - back at home try to stay away from Mommy and play only with Daddy, per Daddy's stern directions; follow Mama from room to room asking for stuff and telling her stories
8:30 - attempt to draw out bedtime by asking to read one million books; agree to three books
8:45 - lights out; tell Mama I'm not tired and run to Daddy; eat yogurt
9 - plead for teeeeeeveeeeeeee; get put back in bed; continue to anger Mama by saying "I'm not tired" despite red, droopy eyes and multiple yawns
9:02 - Uh oh, Mama called Daddy in for backup. Grudgingly go to sleep with mean Daddy while mean Mama does laundry.
9:05 - dream of ways I can perfect the CAAD Method and continue OpAg on both parents. Look sweet while sleeping.

So to recap: three baths, innumerable outfits, a tiara in the toilet, a stuck kid in toilet, feet in toilet, swimming, tap dance, eating, playing, making me crazy. Today was a bad one. Naps must be worked back into the rotation. Maybe tomorrow will be better. On the bright side, no one died.

FREAKISH SHOE & EARRING BUYING SPREE

2007-05-04T17:30:00.000-07:00

I rarely buy shoes. The last two pair of shoes I bought were Crocs - black maryjanes last year and regular black Crocs at Christmas '05. Dude. But for some unknown reason in the past three weeks I have purchased three new pairs of shoes, all with peep toes and none of them made by Crocs. Red slingback flats with white piping & button detail from Urban Outfitters, black & white peep-toe sneakers by BC Footwear, and peep-toe flats in ZEBRA off Ebay! Damn, I really am crazy.

Then I lost my mind completely and bought jewelry. A sassy bracelet & earrings at Macy's and two pair of cheapy sorta-50s/sorta-80s retro plastic-y earrings at one of those tween shops at the mall. I know - crazy fucking lunatic is what I said too! And I think I'm gonna go to Forever 21 to go check out some rings and maybe another pair of under $5 earrings. I am teetering on the brink.

I really think my subconscious is driving this whole crazy buying spree because I'm going to Vegas in three short weeks. Nothing says Vegas like a new pair of zebra peep-toe flats and large cheap earrings (to match the very large hair I get in the desert).

Gawd almighty I need this trip. I need these shoes & earring. Maybe Vegas, Vonnie and zebra peep toes will save me from the daily insanity of a preschooler who naps irregularly and knows how to punch each and every one of my buttons. Peep toes to the rescue.

KID KICKS ASS

2007-05-04T16:40:00.000-07:00

Since Pearl was such a hit, thought we needed another sassy toddler.

FOR THE MAMAS

2007-05-01T08:51:00.000-07:00

Mother's Day is coming up and just for the record, no mom wants these cherub solar lights for the garden. Yeeeesh.

But here are a few cool things you can score for a mama in your life, or force your significant other to get for you, or just buy for yourself because you like it:

For the eco mom: GreenDimes is a service that will cut your junk mail by 75-90% and plant a tree for you every month. It's $36 dollars per year (or a dime a day, hence the name). Cool!

For the hip designer mom: A subscription to Blueprint magazine. I just got my first issue and I think it rocks. I subscribed in part because I fell in love with the masthead font. And hey, it's a Martha Stewart publication, and what mom doesn't love Martha?

For the bejeweled mom: A big frickin' jewelry box in a sassy color. No hideous scrollwork or nasty dark wood stain, just lovely green leather with lots of storage options.

Or just go to Cool Mom Picks and check out their list of cool stuff.

DRUNKY MONKEY

2007-04-27T08:57:00.000-07:00

Happy Friday.

TITS & EYES

2007-04-26T18:24:00.000-07:00

WARNING!! BORING POST AHEAD:

The Hubby is headed to the river Fri.-Sun. to cover a poker run. It's supposed to be 105 in Havasu where he says there will be lots of "titty flashing." Nice. Real nice. The Girl and I plan to tour the parks of Ventura this weekend and eat a lot of Popsicles and Drumstick ice cream cones.

In other news, The Girl and I were in Carlsbad earlier this week to take my Dad in for cataract surgery. It's amazing what they can do now. We sat with him while a nurse did all the paperwork and then dilated his eye (one eye only). We then had exactly enough time to drive to Starbucks, get a chai, and return in time to sign his release paperwork. Frickin' A that's some fast slicin' doc. He had to wear a clear plastic shield over his eye the first day & night and then take it easy for a couple days. But now? Already sees improvement in vision in that eye. Hmmm...maybe Western medicine isn't so bad after all. He goes back in six weeks for a check-up and a new prescription for his glasses.

That's it. Boring. But I did warn you.

A DOCTOR OF LOTION

2007-04-20T23:55:00.000-07:00

Tonight I rejoice for I have molded my daughter into the perfect child - a child who wants nothing more than to rub lotion on my 40-year old feet. Gawd bless her. And gawd bless America. I have dreamed of this day.

It all started innocently when she asked if she could use my lotion (yes it was Hempz lotion, and happy 4/20!) while I read a book with my feet propped up on the coffee table. She then rambled on about being a doctor and needing to take care of the baby (me) and tucked a blanket around my legs. There was some talk of "special Chinese lotion," as well. And then she said the baby's feet were not good and needed help from the doctor. She said she was a "doctor of lotion, not a doctor of feet," but that she was also a pediatrician sometimes. And then the angels wept. She rubbed and dabbed and "swooshed" my feet for more than five minutes. Five minutes of bliss where I realized that all the diaper changes, snot wiping, book reading, breastfeeding, balanced meal making, loving and hugging finally paid off. And I just sat in there my chair, reading my book, blanket tucked around my legs, feet slathered in lotion, thinking, "This is why we reproduce."

SMOKE GETS IN MY EYES

2007-04-17T22:11:00.000-07:00

The Kid & I were up at the in-laws' for a couple nights while The Hubby is in Sarasota. The MIL offered to do a load of wash last night and I jumped at the chance to return home with clean clothes. This morning they were neatly folded on the kitchen table and when I packed our bags I put the pile of clean clothes on top of my dirty clothes. I opened the bag five hours later... wuh, wuh, vurp. The overwhelming smell of smoke nearly made me barf. The clean & dirty clothes are now in my washer (with an extra rinse cycle). They don't smoke in the house, just in the garage. The washer & dryer are in the garage. She folds clean laundry in the house. So does the smoke just seep into the dryer? Ugh. Shiiiiiiver. Ugh. And just so I don't make this mistake again, I am getting a tattoo that says, "Smoke ≠ Downy."

In other unbelievable news, The Girl's grandparents said that if a boy has "-ez, -burg, or -stein" at the end of his name, she can't marry him. So the arranged marriages hubby & I had hoped to line up with the Gutierrez, Lopez, Steinburg or Hammerstein families are apparently a no-go.

I'LL GET YOU MY PRETTY

2007-04-11T20:59:00.000-07:00

The Girl has been collecting Wizard of Oz dolls from the McDonald's Happy Meals. OK, so kill me, I have been collecting them! Hey, they are Madame Alexander. That used to mean something (before they sold their soul to corporate hell and outsourced to China, said the childhood collector). Anywho, we have a veritable plethora of Wicked Witch dolls (four) because she won't let me switch them at the drive-thru window as I paw through the bag. The Girl thinks The Wicked Witch is quite pretty, and aside from the fact she is green, this Madame Alexander version is cute. The Girl has not seen the movie, so she thinks witches are pretty and nice and dress in black.

Cue the uncomfortable scene at the grocery store...

Minding our own business in the produce section, we pass an older lady wearing an oddly shaped black straw hat, a billowy black gauze shirt over white capris, with black open-toe sandals. Suddenly, The Girl announces, "Hey mom, that lady looks like a witch!" I died. Then I quietly added, "Huh huh huh. She's really into the Wizard of Oz and loves the witch. Um sorry. Huh huh huh, ahem." Then I died again. The lady said in a boozy Southern drawl and one wandering eye, "That's fine. She can call me a witch anytime."

For some unknown reason as I retreated, I took a quick peek at her feet. And what did I see? LONG TOENAILS! Giant freakishly long yet unpainted or filed toenails. TOENAILS A WITCH WOULD HAVE. Then I barfed. And died again.

PEOPLE ARE PEOPLE

2007-04-11T17:17:00.000-07:00

I truly believe people come into your life for a reason. Good people, mean people, random folks that just flitter in and then, poof, are gone. Today a good person was put in my path and made my day.

After dropping off The Girl at preschool, I was sitting at the beautiful new Starbucks (right by Lowe's, across from the mall) enjoying my twice-weekly reprieve. I smiled and nodded to a 50+ish woman who was also sitting in the sunny corner sipping and reading. Eventually we exchanged pleasantries and then she joined me for a chat. She is a NY transplant who is trying to "live in the now" and follows some Buddhist principals. I'm down with that. Then we started talking about Ventura, counselling at-risk kids, child rearing and whatever else popped into our brains in a 15-minute chat. What I left with was the feeling that a total stranger "got me." She understands why I trust The Girl to run all the way across the park to pet a dog. She agrees that celebrating and embracing The Girl's current age/stage is essential, instead of always looking ahead or back. I felt like I got a gold star from the substitute teacher. It's nice when a stranger says she can tell that what I am doing is making a difference. But I guess she's not really a stranger since we are having coffee again next week.

I don't know who or what put Kathleen in my path today, but I am so glad to have a new friend.

CUTENESS IS CONTAGEOUS

2007-04-06T09:18:00.000-07:00

PEEP GOES TO THE PARK

2007-04-05T21:23:00.000-07:00

I went a bit nuts this week. The other moms at the park ignored me while I did a little photo shoot on the picnic table. I don't know why they shunned me. As if they've never photographed Easter candy and toys frolicking?!?! Freaks.

more here

SPRING BREAK ART PROJECT

2007-03-29T21:35:00.000-07:00

Looks like I found an art project for The horse-obsessed Girl. Peeps on horses. Just in time for spring break. And yes, I know...WTF! Why do preschoolers need spring break? Painting and counting are so tough these days they need a week off to head to Mexico for some tequila shooters and dirty dancing?

Via cuteoverload.com.

CONFESSIONS OF AN NPR NERD

2007-03-26T11:26:00.000-07:00

I love NPR in a big way. The Girl loves NPR. I have even turned The Hubby into an NPR news enthusiast (which is different from me, since I also have BIG love the non-news stuff). My BIG NPR love is also directed at Ira Glass. There is nothing better than listening to This American Life, while sipping a Starbucks' chai in my driveway, all alone with Ira. You know how that goes: You're driving home from running a few errands on Sunday, listening to a great story about an abandoned house or misspent youth or lottery fever. You have been lulled into a semi-trance by Ira's sorta-nasal but very charming voice. Then, damn, you've arrived home. But Ira's siren song is too strong. You can't turn him off. You must listen to the remainder of the story in your car despite the fact you have subscribed to the podcast. So you just relax, sit back and sip your chai, letting the warmth of Ira Glass wash over you along with the sunshine streaming in from your sunroof. And you let the neighbors wonder.

Whew, I'm spent. OK, back to reality. This American Life is now on Showtime. Now we can all watch as Ira Glass delivers his funny little introductions, gives an endearing giggle when tickled by an unexpected turn of his guest's story, or interjects personal quips into their tales. Oh, Ira, you sweet, sweet man-child.

And enjoy this article by Sarah Hepola on Nerve.com. Very funny and Glass-o-rific. And until I read in her piece that Ira Glass is married, I too held out hope that one day our paths would cross and we would fall madly in love. Nerdy, witty, aural love. A love that is fueled by the fact that there are funny but sad stories all around us that need to be heard.

PS - I also have a secret (well, not anymore) crush on long-time TAL contributer Sarah Vowell. Her wit is drier than vermouth, she loves history, has an odd voice and is friends with Conan O'Brien and They Might Be Giants. Plus, she was an animated superhero. F'n A! She rocks.

TAP TAP TAP

2007-03-22T20:48:00.000-07:00

What do you get for $50 worth of tap dance lessons? Pure brilliance, that's what!

THE KID ATE MY BRAIN

2007-03-20T21:10:00.000-07:00

The Hubby was in Arizona for four days on his annual man trip with his two best buddies, watching baseball, drinking beer and eating wings. I am drained. I got nothin' left, people. My brain hurts from playing games and coloring and talking to the four-year-old who NEVER STOPS TALKING! And my dad came for a visit so I actually had two kids for part of the time. I shit you not, he really asked, "Were you about to get up and get some ice cream, honey? Because if you are, I'll have some too."

OK, maybe a tidbit of preschool humor...

We used to tell The Girl to put her shoes on by reciting, "No shirt, no shoes, no service." So the other day, I asked her to put them on so we could go out to eat, adding "Because you know what will happen at the restaurant. No shirt, no shoes..."
"NO PANTS!" she answered.

We went to one of those yummy Benihana-style places for dinner a while back. The chef chopped fast and did lots of tricky things while grilling our food, including the onion volcano which was "SO KEWL" according to The Girl. We brought home a couple pairs of chopsticks because she thought they were also kewl. She's not very adept with the chopsticks, as expected. But the best part is that she has renamed them pork chops. "Mom, look! I'm using my pork chops to eat!" Splat. Snicker.

MY CRAZY JUNIOR BAG LADY

2007-03-13T18:35:00.000-07:00

My child just rescued a scrap of wrapping paper from the trash can. (editor's note: Yes, I know I should have recycled it in the first place, but shut up for a minute while I get to the point, OK?!?). She is having separation issues with things. Things like tires, dead plants, water bottle caps and apparently, used wrapping paper.

I had a flat tire last week and as the tow truck driver was taking the "worn out" tire off, she asked, "What are you going to do with my old tire? But I loooooooove my old tire!!!" Waaaaaaaa/cue tears. Seriously. She continued to cry when he put the tire in the trunk for repair later (even though we both knew it was a goner).

That night at Costco, as we used some of The Hubby's hard-earned bonus on four new tires for my car, The Girl again started to wail about how she loved her old tires and didn't want new ones.

She cried yesterday as I pulled several brown sticks that used to be coleus plants out of pots on the porch and replaced them with pretty new flowers.

Today's drama was the wrapping paper from a gift from Auntie Gerri. How heartless am I? I tossed it in the trash. She found it, saved it and wailed about my misdeed.

Could this be her way of dealing with loss/death? Or am I over analyzing? Am I pushing my death-agenda on her?

I think I will ask her teacher and the preschool director tomorrow. They know all about that developmental phase shit. Or maybe I will just Google "crazy junior bag lady compulsive horder."

RIDGECREST IS FOR WINNERS!

2007-03-12T09:46:00.000-07:00

I won a lovely prize package from Rebecca, The Major and The Little Monkey for a correct guess about the baby's birth weight or length or date or something. Usually these prize packages turn into a hearty handshake, but noooo....not Rebecca! She went all out and sent a DELUXE (fancy!) PRIZE PACKAGE from the teeming metropolis that is Ridgecrest. Note the stunning design of the t-shirt, the artfully packaged lotion and scrub from the Ridgecrest Spa, the amazing Jesus nightlight, a notepad from the petroglyph museum and the lovely Naval Air Weapons Station China Lake cup. I feel so honored! The Girl promptly claimed the notepad and cup. The Hubby is frightened by the Jesus nightlight and I already stained the t-shirt with hot cocoa.

And Becca, that box of The Girl's clothes I swore I would send when The Little Monkey was born, ummm...it's almost on the way (if you count "almost" as still sitting unsorted in plastic bins in the garage).

PROOF I MAY SOON BE ABLE TO WALK IN HEELS

2007-03-08T15:40:00.000-08:00

Look what's new for summer...

I think I need the Sassari slides in seafoam & white, as well as black & white. Although the celery & white is kinda cute, too.

OPRAH IS AMAZING

2007-03-03T23:54:00.000-08:00

I just finished watching Oprah's special about the school she opened in South Africa. I am a weepy mess and have used half a box of Kleenex. My god. This woman...

She has just given these girls hope. And education. Safety. Love. Food. Shelter. Clothing. These are all the things these girls now have in abundance. These "daughters" of the Oprah Winfrey Leadership Academy for Girls all have a big bushel full of hope. What an amazing thing to be able to give. I really am just awestruck at Oprah's ability to give this dream roots, tend to it every step of the way as it grew and then watch as it blossom into this amazing school full of girls. She is going to change that country. One woman is going to change the fate of South Africa. What does that feel like? That responsibility, that love, the commitment? Damn, the money.

If you didn't get to see the program, go watch some of it on her site. I am really at a loss. Words fail me. Oprah is changing the fate of a nation. I am inspired by her. One woman, one girl, can change the world.

So come on sisters, let's join her. Even if I asked each of you to send me $100, I have a feeling our school would still be a few books short of a library. But we can be that change here, today. Tell someone they did a good job. Tell a little girl she is special. Believe in yourself. We may not be able to open a school, but we can be upstanding sisters, mothers, friends, mentors to girls and women in our lives. Even telling the Girl Scout selling cookies outside of Von's that she's doing a great job can mean a lot. Praise is something we can do for free. And the cookies are only $4 a box, in case you want to do some good for the Girl Scouts. Can thin mints save the world? Maybe not. But you can do good. I can do good. We can do better.

I feel like I just went to church. Uplifted. Yep, that's the word I was looking for. Oprah, girl. You have just changed the world. Can I get an amen?

THE BESTEST

2007-02-26T11:30:00.000-08:00

The Girl has recently begun to use superlatives. I am, apparently, the "bestest mom" she has ever had. After pointing out that I am the only mom she has ever had, she claimed I am the "bestest and the onlyest mom" she ever had. Orneriest is more like it, but I don't think she quite gets my humor. Last night's superlative-filled love fest had to take the cake. And I quote:

"You are the bestest mom with the bestest boobs ever."

You hear that insecurities? Huh? I AM THE BESTEST. AND SO ARE MY BOOBS! So boo-ya, low self-esteem. And take a hike doubt. There's a new sheriff in town. And her boobs rock.

MY WISH FOR MY TOWN...

2007-02-24T10:40:00.000-08:00

I wish there was a really good bakery in Ventura. I want good fluffy cupcakes. I want lots of muffins and a couple flaky croissants. I want sugar cookies that taste good. I want them iced with cute designs. I want Tuesday to be "coconut and cardamom frosting day." I am tired of going into a bakery and seeing pretty things that, when tasted, remind me of rancid paste from kindergarten. One fucking fluffy cupcake. Please, Ventura, please.

THE LITTLE SHITTER

2007-02-23T14:12:00.000-08:00

I can no longer empty The Kid's potty without vomiting. I need to put that plastic eyesore in the garbage tonight. Unfortunately, it is filled with shit right now and I would vomit if I went near it. This started about 10 days ago - the barfing, not the shitting. One day, I had no problem transferring her waste from the red plastic bucket thingy into the toilet. The next...urp, urp, BARF. First I thought I was pregnant, because I had a hair-trigger gag reflex when pregnant with The Girl. I peed on a stick and only saw one line. Days later I continued to barf but got my period, so pregnancy is ruled out. Now just the thought of it (shit), sends me heaving.

The Girl has no problems going on the "big potty," she just likes the scale of the little one. And who can blame the kid. Would you want to perch your bare ass on top of a mile-high Jacuzzi with no hand rails or footrest when there's a perfectly sized potty available? I didn't think so. So out of sight, out of mind. And goodbye gag reflex.

I called the The Hubby and let him know there is a "present" waiting for him. Tonight will be the night we say goodbye to the little shitter.

CLOWNS DIE, HILARITY ENSUES

2007-02-21T17:23:00.000-08:00

With CNN writing headlines like this, I don't even have to come up with anything witty...

Two clowns shot dead during performance

DISOBEDIENCE

2007-02-19T19:14:00.000-08:00

Making Light has an amazing post for all military personnel regarding The Constitution, the Geneva Conventions and disobeying an order. It's a couple months old but is informative and chilling. I thought this would be an appropriate topic for President's Day, since our current president is a moron. Carry on.

PARIS NOT PERRIS

2007-02-18T20:00:00.000-08:00

I left for Vegas Wed. afternoon and stayed at Paris (as opposed to Perris - HA HA. Only V will get that.). Is it me or are all hotel rooms in Vegas starting to look alike? Nice enough, but meeh. The trade show was Thurs., so I spent the rest of the time gambling, drunk and sleeping.

The sourcing wing of the trade show was about 98% Asian manufacturers. Of course we were looking for a factory in Mexico or South America. Luckily I found one Mexican manufacturer (in the state of Yucatan) who seemed nice and provides just what we need. Doing business in Mexico solves a couple issues: 1) they are not China; 2) NAFTA means no import/export fees/taxes/tariffs or quotas; 3) Yucatan is in the central timezone; 4) everyone speaks English; 5) it's near Cancun & the Mayan ruins so there are vacation possibilities.

I went to another section of the convention center for the retail apparel show for women, juniors, kids, and accessories. Big f-n show. The men's show was in yet another hall of the convention center. You had to ride a shuttle to get to the different halls. Then they had 11 bus routes to return you to your lovely hotel. Big business, big show, big, big, big. I talked with a couple other mom-owned small businesses from SoCal and traded some tips. They were nice enough to let me take pics of their booths and tell me how to make it look good on a budget. I swear I walked 5+ miles despite the buses and shuttles.

After organizing all of the business cards, notes and brochures back at the hotel, I went down to have some fun around 6 p.m. I played blackjack for hours and drank at least 10 tiny Malibu & diet cokes. I didn't think I was drunk, but back in the room at midnight I promptly started watching an infomercial on the big flat screen and ate a Snickers bar. Unfortunately I also realized I couldn't sleep because of the frickin caffeine. More infomercials and some Law & Order fixed me right up.

The Girl watched my plane take off Wed. and land on Fri. in Santa Maria. She thought it was really neat and wanted to know about the pilot and what the inside of the plane looked like. She did pretty well with the in-laws, but picked up a snotty nose and fever from Nana. We came back Sun. to relax and get better before The Hubby returns Mon. night.

PS - I forgot that the free nights at Paris were part of some Coach bag promotion, so after the registration person reminded me, I picked out an adorable little black purse ($198 retail!) for free!!! It did however cost me $400 in gambling for that free purse and 2-night stay. But did I mention... I WAS ALONE FOR 48 WHOLE HOURS?!?!?!

V IS FOR VEGAS, BABY!

2007-02-14T09:44:00.000-08:00

Happy V Day. No not Valentine's Day. Today is Vegas day, baby! I'm heading to my happiest place on earth for a trade show. Hopefully I will be able to find a sewing contractor for these damn shoes that I keep thinking are going to launch my career as a wildly successful business woman. In addition to the show on Thurs., I plan on getting quite drunk and gambling and eating and sleeping in a king-sized bed all by myself. Heaven. F'n A!

The Hubby left for the Miami boat show this a.m. and I will head up to the in-laws today to drop The Kid with them. I'm flying out of Santa Maria (yes they have an airport) direct to Vegas for $101 total. Plus I have a free room at Paris. Plus I have $50 "free" money to eat with from our friends at Paris. Ka-ching, more money to gamble with.

This is quite possibly the best Valentine's Day EVER!

THE SAD STORY OF THE BLOG MUTE

2007-02-10T17:20:00.000-08:00

There is stuff going on. Nothing to be alarmed at, just the usual things, funny things, life, etc. Unfortunately I no longer have the ability to write them down. It's like I suddenly became blog mute. Really, I can write. I write funny things. I write mostly truthful things. I just don't have the ability to do it here, on my blog, the place I usually write these sorts of things. I don't know what it is. OK I might know what it is in a "general crappy-feeling" kind of way.

Something is not quite right. I know that's why I take the meds, but really, something else is off. Not physical. No aches or pains. More like a general feeling of waiting for something to happen. Will it be bad? Will it be neutral? Will it just be a change? I have no f-ing clue. The only way I can put it into words is to compare it to a high school trauma/drama. Remember that time when your parents found out one of your secrets (smokes in the backpack, birth control pills in your sock drawer, that note your hot boyfriend wrote detailing what he wanted to do to your girl parts) and you knew you were going to get a lecture or that "I'm so disappointed talk?" That is sort of what it's like. Kind of like dread. But not quite that bad.

I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. But the first one never dropped so I am at a loss over what this is about.

So for now I will chock it up to a bout of the blues due to my dad's surgery (If he died, would I be an orphan?), combined with my lack of a break from The Girl (looking forward to preschool Mon.), and the ongoing cold/laryngitis/possible sinus problems of The Hubby.

On the bright side, I am going to Vegas on Valentine's day. ALL. BY. MYSELF. More on that later. Damn, typing that made me feel a bit better already.

TOE JAM

2007-02-06T23:36:00.000-08:00

Just returned home from a quick trip to Carlsbad with The Girl. My Dad had yet another toe cut off. Gross. Take care of your feet people, because if you stand on them all day everyday for 50 years at your job, they will fail you when you are 75. He had outpatient surgery Mon. afternoon and a PIC line put in on Tues. so he can do his IV antibiotics at home for the next 3 weeks. He's doing great. So great in fact that I wasn't wracked with guilt for leaving tonight. And for the record it was only half a toe.

THE MOMTINI, THE MYTH & THE JUDGEMENT

2007-01-27T09:58:00.000-08:00

Melissa Summers is one of my favorite bloggers because aside from being a witty writer and a mommy, she is sort of damaged. Like the rest of us. We all have our skeletons, Melissa just shares them with thousands of folks who read her blog, Suburban Bliss. Melissa was on the Today show on Friday discussing the "new" fad of cocktail playdates where mommies drink alcohol. (Side rant - WTF Today show??? Since when is this new? Have they never heard of Mother's Little Helper? At least it's only a drink or two and NOT AMPHETAMINES..."THEY WERE DOCTOR PRESCRIBED!!!!!" the 1969 housewife & mother of three screamed.) While I think Melissa did great, and loads of other mommy bloggers agree (and here too), it seems there is still a murmur of discontent. A current of judgement is bubbling up to the surface. Again, I say WTF? People. We are not drinking shots of Jack Daniels or Cuervo (or even Patron, but hey, that's a pretty good idea). When my mommy friends get together for a little soiree, we have *gasp* a couple mimosas or a glass of wine or even a TGIFriday's branded Long Island Iced Tea. At the park. With the kids. Apparently supervising them inadequately. And then we drive home. After an hour or two or three.

So, uptight America (and I'm gonna throw in Meredith Viera too because she was rather patronizing in the piece), LIGHTEN THE FUCK UP! It's a drink with friends while the kids are expending energy. How many parents will be sitting around watching the Super Bowl with a beer in hand? Are those parents not modeling good behavior for their kids? Geeez. Really. Lighten the fuck up, people. And if I have one more person tell me how they would just "never think of drinking in front of the kids," I will punch them right in the face. After I finish my wine of course.

Moms need to stick together. We need to tell Meredith Viera, that Dr. Lady and all the rest of uptight America that moms are on the job 24/7/365. My last day off? The day I got my colonoscopy. Woo hoo. Vacation. Moms need to decompress sometimes. We need a break. And when we don't get a break, a bottle of wine at playdate sure makes our lives seem a little less monotonous.

So in summary, just shut up about cocktails and stop judging. Let the moms have their little bit of whatever. And if you aren't a mom, for gods sake, call a friend who is and offer to babysit for her one evening. It could save the mommy from AA.

THE GIRL, UPDATED

2007-01-26T08:41:00.000-08:00

The Girl has been well behaved lately, except for a huge daily drama from 4-5:30 p.m. At that point I look for the closest stranger and beg them to take her from me. I even offer them spare change and a Starbucks card with $3 on it. Still no one has taken her. Do you think I need to add something else, like a grilled cheese sandwich?

++++++++++++++++++++

We go to the park almost every day. If there are dogs there The Girl immediately heads over and asks the owner if she can pet them. They are always impressed by this and who the hell can resist a freckle-faced girl? She has actually made friends with quite a few dogs - Tiki the pug, Gidget the poodle, Rascal the lab, Kai the mutt, Kona the black lab, Spike the Boston Terrier - and lots more that we know by site. She is seriously into dogs and asks almost daily if she can get one. Of course I am a huge meanie and say no. I have explained that after cleaning up her poop for three years, I would like a break. Her new plea for a dog includes, "I can feed it and walk it and clean up its poop" said in a sing-song voice. My answer is still no. I can resist the freckle-faced girl.

++++++++++++++++++++

We started The Girl in a tap & jazz class offered through the city. She really like the movie Happy Feet (a tap-dancing penguin is shunned, then accepted, the end) and I figured it would be a good way to expend her energy. She liked it and was thoroughly exhausted after it. I can't wait till next week. I think I want a pair of tap shoes. They just sound so cool.

NOT ENOUGH TIME

2007-01-25T09:17:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Fussy.

BLOG FOR CHOICE 2007

2007-01-22T23:27:00.000-08:00

Last year on Blog for Choice day I wrote about why I chose to have an abortion in college. This year we are tasked with writing why we are pro-choice. It's a pretty easy answer now that I'm a mommy. I am pro-choice so my daughter will have reproductive freedom. Sure she's only three (and a half!), but give it 15 years. I don't ever want her to feel ashamed or scared about birth control. I hope she chooses well. I hope she takes my advice. I hope she asks. And if, god forbid, she has to choose to terminate a pregnancy, I will be right there with her. I hope every woman would do the same.

HEY JOE RACIST - WHO ARE YOU ROOTING FOR?

2007-01-22T09:35:00.000-08:00

Hooray, hooray! The Colts and Bears are headed to the Superbowl. Honestly, I don't follow either team closely. I am just THRILLED, however, that there are racists everywhere just seething that two black head coaches are facing off for the first time in the Superbowl.

Of course in this day and age it shouldn't matter whether they are black, white, or green with purple polka dots, but unfortunately it still does matter.

Really the Superbowl is just a way to ease racist/sexist idiots into the next big event that will likely become racially-charged even though it should be about experience and integrity...the 2008 presidential race. Good Lord, we've got a woman, an African-American, and a Hispanic.

I love America!

I HEART JACK BAUER

2007-01-17T11:31:00.000-08:00

You are watching 24 aren't you? Well...aren't you? Gah. You better because where else can you see our hero chomp a guy's carotid artery with his teeth (while subdued by handcuffs), fish the handcuff keys out of the artery-guy's pocket and then spit a big 'ol mouthful of blood when he is free. Oh Jack Bauer, you complete me. Even with the oddly damaged skin on your right hand, dude. And the fact you had to kill Curtis? ROCKED. And you looked really sad. AND BARFED! Awesome.

Ok, got to let this post end because now I just sound odd.

THE BIGNESS OF MOTHER-LOVE

2007-01-13T09:59:00.000-08:00

Last night after reading a few books to bring on the sleep fairies for The Girl, I was laying in bed thinking I needed to put down on paper (or Interweb) some of my ideas for a book. It would be a book just for her. But not for now. The book is for when she is grown, maybe about to marry or have a child of her own. Or it could be a book to help other mothers express the depth of their love, attachment, being. Because you just don't know, can't know that bigness until you experience that unbelievable mother-love feeling that swallows you whole. I didn't have any idea.

MOTHER-LOVE

I kiss you on the top of your head, hoping that it will seep into your brain, becoming more than just a memory of my love for you. The kisses will become a part of you, muscle memory, an actual sensory experience that you feel long after my kisses are gone.

I touch your round belly button with my finger, knowing it is where you were once connected to me, wishing that connection will stay forever. Knowing that my belly held you and the physical evidence on your belly proves it.

I hug you with not just my arms, but muscle and mass encircling you, squeezing you tight as if to physically transfer my love into your body. Sending the warmth of my love to be stored through winters to come.

I protect you with my body - my veins and my flesh, guts, fingernails and bones. I will cover you with my body, as well as my soul, sacrificing both to keep you safe and well. Thinking that someday it will be a metaphor and not my physical presence that protects you. Knowing that sacrifices should be made silently.

I smell your hair and neck to remember what it is like before you learn worry or fear. It smells young and free and hopeful. Before the musk of adolescence and scent of womanhood come to settle in, I will put this sweet smell in my memory.

My hands hold your feet, knowing one day they will walk far away, but squeezing each of them just enough so you know I am there. Remembering when both feet fit in one hand, when newborn feet curled tightly by reflex, before you discovered they could take you places.

I cup your cheek and stroke my thumb on your chin, wanting to tell you that one day you'll need to turn that cheek and you will need to keep that chin up. But then I remember you are still my baby and always will be. I will fight the world for you, my sweet baby, and then with you, giving you the skills to keep fighting.

I squeeze your soft upper arm, your little butt, your leg, like a loaf of bread to make sure this is not a dream. You are real. You are mine. I am your mother and I always will be.

The sea, the sky, the heavens - none are big enough, vast enough to show you this thing called mother-love. When you came to me, a space was created in my heart. It was not an empty space or a hole, but an infinite space where more love and laughter and sand and candy and beauty come to be stored every day. Mother-love is bigger than that. It is a whirlwind that takes on all the bits of your life and builds them into a sculpture in my heart. It changes and twists and grows every day, every minute I breath. Every minute that mother-love shapes me. You shape it. You are my mother-love.

WEDNESDAY THRIFT STORE UPDATE

2007-01-10T12:05:00.000-08:00

I'm thinking of making Wednesdays my day to head to the trift stores downtown and then update you with my bargains. And if you ask nicely for me to keep an eye out for anything cheap, adorable and well made in sizes under 5T, I just might be able to help you. It kills me to pass up a perfect Gymboree dress in size 6-12mo for $1.99.

Todays haul included a bag-o-horses for $1.99. A couple may be added to our ever-present "back to Goodwill" bag.

Three dresses, two pants and a cute top with a sassy embroidered flower & side tie became mine for just over $10.

Still on the lookout for a doll cradle that is not plastic and covered in hearts.

ISN'T THAT COOL?

2007-01-08T10:26:00.000-08:00

The Girl is back in preschool. I am properly caffeinated. So let's see what's new in the grab bag today, shall we?

"Isn't that cool?" has become The Girl's new mantra. Everything is cool. Especially horses! And dogs! And pretty things! And new episodes of preschoolers' favorite TV shows! "That's sooooo cool, Mom!"

I have made no resolutions (per usual) but have again created a list of projects for 2007:

get a job (whoring and dealing don't count, but would make for easy money)
clean out the closets (especially the 3+ years of accumulated kid's clothing) in bedroom, hall and under TV
live with less clutter
sell a couple things on ebay - old Nikon digital camera, old fancy Minolta film camera
continue watching Cops high
get The Girl (who I now sometimes refer to as The Kid) off the boob for good. I know 5 minutes of nursing at bedtime is no big deal, but it's the additional 5 minutes of "I need a drink/cheese stick/book/to tuck in my horses," and the waiting to leave her room until she's doing the "really, really asleep" breathing that is getting a bit drawn out.
get back on The Pill (dependant on The Girl getting off the boob)

I also need to get back into the cooking mode. We are spending too much on eating out. I have bored my family with baked chicken and rice pilaf for a year. Hmmm... maybe a pot roast, meatloaf, chicken piccata, baked rigatoni, stir fry. Some of my oldies but goodies. Now that The Girl eats most of what we eat, it is getting easier. She ate pork chops and apple sauce the other night. Although she did gross us out by mixing ranch dressing into her apple sauce. Dude thinks everything tastes better with ranch. That's just plain gross.

She watched a dog agility competition yesterday on TV and has now added champion to her lexicon. She has a champion blanket for her pig, a champion sticker on one of her ponies, and a champion hair clip for one of her dolls. And yes I am going to Tivo any dog/horse competitions on Animal Planet right this very minute.

SMELLS LIKE HOLIDAY SPIRIT

2006-12-30T07:57:00.000-08:00

This is my third attempt at this post. I wasn't able to finish before we were on to a new holiday venue, so here is the very loooong recap:

The family spent Christmas Eve at home in Ventura. The in-laws arrived at 11 a.m. and spent the entire day with us which was a little exhausting when all I really wanted to do was sit around and eat cookies, fudge and See's candy in front of the TV. After day-long snacking on appetizers, tamales were eaten, presents were opened and we saw Santa and his reindeer fly through the night sky (thanks Aspen Helicopters!). The in-laws stayed at The Pierpont Inn and returned the next morning to watch the traditional ripping of the presents. The Girl went to sleep in her bed knowing Santa would bring presents only if she was indeed sleeping.

Christmas morning brought gasps of joy from The Girl when she saw that Santa really did leave her several gifts. The first she saw was a stuffed Boston Terrier dog peeking out of her stocking. Then slowly she realized Santa doesn't wrap all his gifts and saw the set of ponies, half a dozen books and other packages. She actually had to stop looking at her stocking loot twice because she was so overwhelmed. I shot video and will post once I figure out how. Note to parents - the tip about Santa not wrapping presents is awesome! My sister suggested that Santa use gift bags for clothing, but otherwise his presents were just artfully arranged in one area under the tree.

We were on the road to Temecula by 10:30 a.m. and ready to enjoy another round of wrapping paper ripping by The Girl with my family. She was thrilled to see my brother's dogs again, Winston and Harley, and spent a good portion of the day getting Boston Terrier slobber all over her cute dress. I thought she was going to stroke out when she opened the wooden horse stable from her aunts & uncles. We spent the night there and headed back home for a couple days of R&R. The Hubby took the entire week off, so I napped a lot while he took The Girl to the zoo and park.

We continued our holiday celebration throughout the Southland, heading to Moreno Valley (shout out to V - hey homeslice, IE, the original 714!) for a large gathering of my Mom's side of the family on Sat. She came from a family of seven and they produced 31 kids, most of whom are married with kids. So it was a buncha family. Best part was visiting with my cousin, his wife and two kids who are moving back to the States from Kenya for a few years. Yippee. The Girl was so excited to meet our cousins from Africa. But then she was a beast all day and I let her run amok like a monster.

We spent the night in Riverside and enjoyed walking around the Mission Inn looking at the amazing holiday lights. Woke up and had breakfast with my bro, then back to the Mission Inn for a daytime tour (to tire out The Girl) and then back on the road.

We are home in Ventura to spend our last evening of 2006 grilling hamburgers on The Hubby's new barbeque. Hope your holidays were fantastic and 2007 starts with a bang.

PICTURE PERFECT

2006-12-24T14:36:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night...

DOUBLE WINNER, REBECCA

2006-12-23T21:19:00.000-08:00

This is a shout out to the newest mommy around, Becca. Woot, mommy, woot! Congratulations on the sweetest little girl to ever be licked by Quentin. Welcome to the blogosphere Amelia.

And as an added bonus, Becca has been named the winner of the $10 Lame Gift Challenge. Technically she was over the $10 limit, and she was the only entrant, but still...she won. This has got to be the best week ever for her! First a kid, now this.

The winning entry:

Seasons of Cannon Falls S'Mores Nativity
previously on sale at Amazon for $12.

HO FUCKING HO, INDEED

2006-12-23T17:01:00.000-08:00

The washing machine konked out. We spent last night checking them out after I did a quick search online. We bought a new one. And the Hubby & I are thrilled to be getting a $600 appliance for Christmas. Ho fucking ho.

Did I mention the cat had worms? Visit to the vet + shot + updated vaccines = $91. Again with the ho fucking ho.

Is it the New Year yet? Resolution = I am going back to work so we are no longer poor and in debt.

What do I want for Christmas, Santa? Sanity and a savings account. Thankyouverymuch.

PUMPKIN SPICE BREAD

2006-12-22T10:09:00.000-08:00

It's heavy on the spices and nuts and raisins. If you no likey nuts & raisins, you suk.

VenturaMom’s Pumpkin Spice Bread
3 C sugar
1 C oil
4 eggs, beaten
2 tsp cloves
2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp nutmeg
½ tsp ground ginger
2 tsp baking soda
2/3 C water **

2 C pumpkin
3 1/3 C flour
1 C nuts (or more)
1 C raisins (or more)

Mix it all together and place in two greased loaf pans. Bake at 350 for 60 min or until it isn’t gooey in the middle.

** I updated the recipe because I said you could substitute apple juice for water...IT IS NOT OK. With the second batch, I used apple juice and the whole thing went crazy and dripped all over my oven. Stick with the water. Nice, nice water.

Note: The pink iPod is playing Andy Williams Chrismas music. God bless him. He is the best. And if the comments turn nasty about how Johnny Mathis or some other yahoo is the BEST Christmas singer ever, I will turn off comments and go kick your ass. I don't care where you live. Your ass will be kicked. Andy Williams rocks the yule log like no other.

And the other picture is of a baked mini loaf, ready to be slathered in butter and gobbled up right quick.

THE GIRL IS A MERRY LITTLE ELF

2006-12-21T14:33:00.000-08:00

The Girl wants to wish you a Merry Christmas by dancing a little jig. Click here to be elfed.

UP YOURS!

2006-12-19T11:45:00.000-08:00

Nothing like posting every day in Nov. and then taking a two week vacation. Woo hoo. And it's not as if I was in tropical South America taking a zip line tour through the rain forest. I was here. At home. Doing "fun" stuff like wrapping presents, going to the park, trying (and failing) to clean up pine needles and getting a colonoscopy.

For the uninitiated, my mother was diagnosed at 59 with colon cancer and died just shy of her 63rd birthday, 10 years ago. Her father was diagnosed with colon cancer at 59, died at 60. Since I really don't want to keep that family tradition going, I had my first colonoscopy, having reached the magical insurance-company-approved age of 40.

After enduring a "bowel prep" Sunday (you don't want to know), followed Monday by a really long camera shoved through my *cough* colon *cough*, I am proud to announce I ain't got nothin' bad goin' on in there. Woot!

The nurse and I exchanged ways which we would not mind dying. Hers was to fall off a horse and be kicked in the head at the age of 91, thus dying with her boots on. I opted for a tragic chaise lounge/cocktail umbrella accident poolside in Maui at the age of 90. How do you want to go?

I HEART NACHOS, BUT NOT THAT MUCH

2006-12-07T17:39:00.000-08:00

Christmas list possibilities:

Nacho machine $329
Cheese dispenser $493
Cheese Goo $50
6-lbs Chips $13
132-oz Jalepenos $18
Heartburn...priceless.

SELF-HELP APPAREL

2006-12-06T14:48:00.000-08:00

Mirror, mirror on the wall...I think every mother needs this shirt.

LETDOWN...

2006-12-04T20:07:00.000-08:00

BACK TO NOT SO DAILY BLOGGING

2006-12-02T00:00:00.000-08:00

Thank god NaBloPoMo is over. I will resume posting when I have collected enough funny stories about The Girl, figured how to upload video, or to show you what The Hubby brings back from Dubai.

In the meantime, pity me. I am taking The Girl to the 3rd-Annual Overcompensating-For-Being-Bad-Parents Birthday Extravaganza on Saturday. They will have the usual pony rides, exotic animals, face painting, caricature artists, etc. But now we'll have the added bonus of a feuding MIL/FIL vs. BIL/SIL. Should I just go high?

DISPATCHES FROM DUBAI

2006-11-30T07:53:00.000-08:00

From The Hubby:

Wanted to say hello. Started working today. Met with the race team. Incredible facilities. They have 35 full-time employees. Slept pretty poorly last night so I went downstairs and finished the editor's column. One less than to worry about.

My reply:
If you can't sleep, just take an Ambien before bed!!! Dork. You have 10. Use them.

And another email right before he goes off to buy me wonderful stuff at a souk (Middle Eastern bazaar-type place with 300+ gold jewelry vendors):

We're off to the gold souk soon. This afternoon we're doing the camel rides etc. out in the desert.

What do you think the etc. is?

ANOTHER POSTCARD FROM DUBAI

2006-11-29T23:08:00.000-08:00

The Hubby checks in from his business trip in Dubai:

Day went fairly quickly even though most us didn't sleep much. We went to the Sail hotel and had lunch (Grace will have to go to a junior college now). Beautiful on the outside and pretty tacky on the inside. We saw the Palm Island and the World Island under construction.
We met up with the race team and will
get to work tomorrow. Should be a cool story. Tom is doing a great job driving. Jeff and I went to breakfast this morning at a super cool resort. Good meal and beautiful location. We've become locals. We pretty much know how to travel the area. Traffic is awful just like Los Angeles. Lastly, the number of buildings under construction is unbelievable. There is at least 100 high-rise buildings under construction, no kidding. Take care. The week is going very quickly.

WORD SHERIFF & PUNCTUATION POLICE

2006-11-28T00:45:00.000-08:00

This shit drives me batty. Now there is a flickr pool of fellow word sheriffs.

via BoingBoing

"Here are a couple of Flickr pools with photos of signs that have words
in quotations for no reason, and non-possessive plurals with apostrophes (also
known as the "grocer's apostrophe.") "

DUBAI = MINIATURE GOLF COURSE BUT MUCH MUCH BIGGER

2006-11-27T16:14:00.000-08:00

Two notes from The Hubby who is on a business trip to Dubai with three co-workers. Today's a.m. dispatch:

We're about to venture out on the town. We had lunch on the 25th floor with gorgeous views of the city. Pretty amazing stuff. Adjacent to the hotel they've started construction on the second Palm Island. Got a pretty good night of sleep. Little tired but I'm adjusting. Everyone seems to be feeling pretty good. We're going to meet up with the Yacht Club folks later today or tomorrow to get moving forward with the stories. I forgot I was here to work. I'll keep in touch.

Today's p.m. dispatch:

We're about to shut down for the night. One major theme so far: We all have an overwhelming urge to play miniature golf. The only thing missing is the windmill. We got a rental car today and Tom is serving as the driver. Drivers are assholes so Tom fits right in. We also picked up two cell phones for local use. There are about a million shops that sell them here. We went to the world's largest mall and well it's the world's largest mall. Jeff went snowboarding at the mall and thinks he got wind burned. Nice place but I've seen it America.

Finally, I forgot to mention this. On the flight they have one of those in-house GPS screens so you can watch the distance traveled. Interestingly, we split the difference between Iraq and Iran coming here, mainly flying on the Iran side. Jeff noticed that we went up to 41,000 feet for that section of the trip (we normally flew at 35,000) . We all proceeded to take picture of ourselves with the screen in the background.

I hope the kid is treating you well. Off to bed now. Love you.

POSTCARDS FROM DUBAI

2006-11-26T15:46:00.000-08:00

Received this email from The Hubby this afternoon:

After nearly 25 hours in airplanes and watching two sunsets and sunrises, we made it to Dubai. The hotel is goregous but a little pricey for our budget. We may be moving. We didn't get in until 3 am Dubai time. Remember, is 12 hours ahead of the United States. I'll try to give you updates when I can. So far so good. I love you.

THE HUBBY TAKES A ROAD TRIP

2006-11-25T17:41:00.000-08:00

The Hubby left for an eight-day business trip to Dubai today. For the uninitiated, Dubai one of the seven United Arab Emirates, across the gulf from Iran, bordering Saudi Arabia and Oman on the other sides. It is considered a cosmopolitan city that is a tourist destination known for their gold, shopping, interesting architecture, tall buildings and the big palm tree islands.

He left LAX at 11 a.m. this morning and arrives tomorrow at 11 p.m. Dubai time. It's easy to figure out the time difference since it is 12 hours. So he will have been travelling for 24 hours. Fun! He is going to email us so I will post anything of interest. He is going to Dubai for a boat festival and powerboat races. But he will have some time for sightseeing and jewelry & trinket buying.

PS: I hope you are all playing around with Google Earth. You can see your house or your old boyfriend's house or Dubai's palm islands or lots of other places.

Tonight I showed The Girl how her Daddy flew from LA to NY to London to Dubai via Google Earth. She wanted to know why we couldn't see his plane and since I think she's a bit young to grasp the concept of satellites, I told her he was in an invisible airplane. Years of therapy, I know.

THANKSGIVING RECAP

2006-11-24T22:23:00.000-08:00

I am a traditional turkey kind of gal. We don't fry in my family. The Hubby's family fries their holiday turkey. It just doesn't taste the same with all those weird spices. It's nice and tasty, but doesn't taste like a traditional baked turkey. I am all about the taste of the holidays. So it goes.

The wind was blowing quite hard in scenic Santa Maria and blew out the flame on the deep fryer several times. It also took more than an hour and a half to heat the oil (usually takes 35 min). Then it never quite got to the desired temp, so the FIL just cooked it longer. Instead of eating at 3, we ate at 5:30. And despite my trepidation, the turkey was moist and tasty. Side dishes? A tad overcooked but still tasty. Yum, yum all around.

We took The Girl to the park at 3:30 when we realized the timetable was seriously fucked. So she slept through dinner. Throw in a lot of wine for the MIL and we have ourselves a party. And no, the SIL & BIL did not attend. They didn't even call to wish the parents a Happy Thanksgiving. Bad karma, bad manners.

All in all a harmless family holiday.

THE WORLD ACCORDING TO THE GIRL

2006-11-23T11:34:00.000-08:00

The Girl said all these things in the past couple days. I swear. She is three. I swear.

"If you put something on your lap and it rolls off, that's gravity."

"Do you know what is extinct? Dinosaurs are extinct. Extinct is dead. The dinosaurs are all angels now."

"Listen to that noise, Mom. (Notice humming from a transformer on a power line) It's the beavers! Hurry, get in the car before they get us!"

"Dad, you are a really big dad. And you're old."

"We can't eat a turkey on Thanksgiving. It's not nice to eat animals."

THANKSGIVING MEME

2006-11-22T09:12:00.000-08:00

A Thanksgiving meme courtesy of Angry Black Bitch. If you aren't reading her, you should be.

When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought? Color your hair before Thanksgiving.
How much cash do you have on you? $12 + change
What’s a word that rhymes with “DOOR?” Floor.
Favorite planet? Saturn - love the rings.
Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone? My sister.
What is your favorite ring tone? I use one that goes ring, ring, ring. It came with the phone.
What shirt are you wearing? Coral t-shirt.
Do you “label” yourself? Yes. Wife, mother, democrat, feminist, bitch, lover, Californian.
Name the brand of the shoes you’re currently wearing? Crocs
Bright or Dark Room? Dark
What do you think about the person who took this survey before you? She is amazing.
What does your watch look like? No watch. I tell the time by the sun, moon & stars. And my cell.
What were you doing at midnight last night? Getting my smoke on with The Hubby.
What did your last text message you received on your cell say? Where are u?
Where is your nearest 7-11? Montalvo
What's a word that you say a lot? Fuck, shit, actually, um, dude.
Who told you he/she loved you last? The Girl.
Last furry thing you touched? Blackie – our big cat.
How many drugs have you done in the last three days? Some Tums, Zoloft, and street.
How many rolls of film do you need developed? Digital only, baby. None.
Favorite age you have been so far? 28…found myself then met my hubby.
Your worst enemy? The folks who want women to cover thier breast/child when breastfeeding, but think big giant boobs like Pamela Anderson’s are awesome to look at.
What is your current desktop picture? Closeup of The Girl’s freckles & eyes.
What was the last thing you said to someone? Just a minute.
If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly what would it be? The money, honey.
Do you like someone? Lots of folks. I even love a few.
The last song you listened to? Losing Lisa by Ben Folds on my ipod in the kitchen while doing dishes.
What time of day were you born? 7:47 a.m.
What’s your favorite number? 11
Where did you live in 1987? San Diego, CA
Are you jealous of anyone? Yes - Anyone with a housekeeper.
Is anyone jealous of you? Are you kidding me? I seriously think not.
Where were you when 9/11 happened? On my way into the office.
What do you do when vending machines steal your money? Shake it. Then pony up some more $ for the candy if that doesn’t work.
Do you consider yourself kind? Sometimes.
If you had to get a tattoo, where would it be? Ankle – California Poppy.
If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be? Spanish. Dude, I live in California.
Would you move for the person you loved? Yep, did it in ‘95.
Are you touchy feely? A bit.
What’s your life motto? Lighten up or Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.
Name three things that you have on you at all times? Cell phone, raisins (for The Girl), date book
What’s your favourite town/city? Ventura dude, home is where the heart is.
What was the last thing you paid for with cash? Venti chai, no water, no foam.
When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it? A couple months ago to the Hubby’s great-aunt.
Can you change the oil on a car? No, but I could learn.
Your first love: what is the last thing you heard about him/her? Got married in 1987 or 88 and haven’t heard a thing since.
How far back do you know about your ancestry? Great grandparents on both sides.
The last time you dressed fancy, what did you wear and why did you dress fancy? Fancy? Me? I guess I dressed up on my B-day in Vegas back in August...black cropped pants, turquoise shirt with cleavage, dandling earrings.
Does anything hurt on your body right now? My back.
Have you been burned by love? I thought it was love, but really I was just singed by desire and dreams.

I tag SueBob of Red Stapler, MB of Supafine, and V of Ponytail Pressure.