Men and My Sports Bra

Being an old married hag I have to admit I live vicariously through my babysitter. Saint Sarah is young, pretty, and has way more energy and patience than I do. She is also single and 24 years old. That means I already had a driver's license when she was born.

Recently Saint Sarah was complaining about men, seriously afraid she was going to be an old maid. I tried to comfort her, telling her that true love sneaks up on you.  I told her that Erik and I didn't go on an actual date until 2 years after we met and I was 33 years old when we got married.

I advised her that men are pretty much useless until they get closer to the age of 30, and even then they still need a lot of maintenance. Just wait,  I told her,  as I swept the room with my arm, you could have all this.........and then my 5 year old peed on her lap.

After we cleaned her up,I once again tried to comfort her.  Look I went out with a younger guy once.  He was 20 and I was 21 years old.  One night we were supposed to go out on a date.  I picked him up, took him to the liquor store and bought him  a 12 pack of beer and then he broke up with me in his driveway.

I drove home to my roommate in shock. But instead of comforting me she started to laugh hysterically, "He used you to get beer!!".  I joined in the laughter, she was right, this dude wasn't worth a broken heart let alone a mild annoyance, I was just killing time with him anyways.

Saint Sarah seemed to be amused by this story,  and as far as I am concerned there are very few men on this planet that deserve to breathe the same oxygen that she does.

Well while we are on the subject of embarrassing moments.... I had a huge struggle at the gym earlier this week . I had a fabulous, sweaty workout, I was so proud.  But while in the locker room I hit an obstacle. I peeled off my sweaty clothes, placed my glasses in a safe place and then attempted to take off my sports bra. I have been doing some lifting lately so my arms were like spaghetti and as I went to pull off my sports bra it got stuck. It got stuck on my face. I was naked, naked, naked except for a sweaty bra stuck on my face. I couldn't see and I could  barely  breathe.  Eeeek.  I decided that after one deep breath if I couldn't get that bitch off my face I would ask for help....and then I would quit this gym.

I faced the wall, counted to ten, took a deep breath and then ripped that thing off of me. Phew...

If you have any embarrassing moments you would like to share with us than please bring it!!

Make Me Laugh

I have been dealing with some shit lately.  I strive to write funny, sometimes thought-provoking, but mostly funny posts. I am drawing a blank.  And I really need to laugh.

So I am going to try something new.  I am going to put this linky thing at the bottom of this post and I want you to add a link to either something funny on your blog or just a link to something you find hilarious. 

Go ahead, make me laugh (Clint Eastwood voice).  See, I am just not funny right now only dorky.

No Excuse, Support Exists

A side effect of being a mom, and especially a stay-at-home mom, is isolation. When my oldest was born I was so lucky to have an awesome neighbor whose 2nd son was born the day after my firstborn.  We talked on the phone, we walked in the mornings, we traded dinners, we watched trashy reality t.v. together. I thought this whole mothering thing was a piece of cake.

Then my friend moved 2 states away. I had never felt so alone in my life. I found a mom's club and even though I eventually got kicked out because of my big mouth, I am still close friends with these women.  I have known them now for 5 years and they have been a huge support.

Now I have 3 kids.  Just a few months ago my oldest was diagnosed with ADHD and Sensory Processing Disorder and my youngest was diagnosed with Pervasive Developmental Disorder (which is basically Autism). I felt the same way that I did when my friend moved away, alone.

I cried and felt sorry for myself and drank too many beers and yelled at my kids and refused to have sex with my husband.   And then I sucked it up and started looking for help.

So we all know about 9-1-1 and 4-1-1 but have you heard of 2-1-1?  This number is somewhere in between 9-1-1 and 4-1-1, if you aren't having a full blown emergency but need more info than a phone number, than 2-1-1 is for you.  Crisis intervention, family counseling, parenting classes etc. Free of charge.

Through them I was able to find out about CARE Parent Network.  They hooked me up with another mom who has a son with ADHD and a son with Autism!!! That's better service than an online dating website, and it's free. This mom called me before mother's day when I just happened to be wine-tasting in Napa.  I told her I couldn't talk at the moment and she said she was extremely jealous.  But she called me back this evening, and Erik had taken the kids to the gym, so I was actually able to talk on the phone. We talked for an hour. We had a lot in common.

This hour long conversation was informative, but mostly therapeutic.  The kind of phone call where you are scrambling for a pen to write down what she has to say, but where you also can just take comfort that somebody has walked a mile in your shoes. And she is still standing.

I am not the only parent in this family, I am not a single mom and Lord above I never want to be!  So on my husband's day off I am dragging him to a Saturday full of parenting classes. Classes for parents of children with special needs; that's us.

After my firstborn got kicked out of his second preschool I found the ever so amazing School Of Imagination.  My friends always tell me that I should be their spokesperson because I praise them so often. I can't help my enthusiasm, I love this school.  Your kid could be as difficult as  you can imagine, and they will nurture and bring out the best. School of Imagination also offers parenting seminars and other community outreach projects.  One of these seminars are what we will be attending on Saturday.

A dear friend of mine, Danica, accused me of being so blue lately.  Meaning my blog posts haven't been light hearted and funny.  I agree. I have been dealing with some shit, I want perfection for my kids. And Danica isn't shallow by any means!  I know she just turns to my blog for humor to get her through the day.
:
Here is a joke just for Danica: What's the difference between a heterosexual woman and a bisexual woman?

4 drinks.

The Ugly Voice

Disclaimer: I do not want pity or praise. I just want you to read this and comment.  I want a yes or no answer, and/or feedback. 

I am writing this because after almost 40 years on the planet I have finally realized I am not that unique. I do not have experiences or thoughts that are singularly mine. So I just want to know if this happens to you?

Every time I go to the gym I encounter major resistance.....from myself.  And when I am on a roll I go to the gym 4 days a week.  But the whole time I am getting ready, the whole way there and the whole damn time I am working out, there is an ugly voice in my head.  I have to ignore and fight this voice, and she is a bitch!!  This is what she says:

"Why are you going to the gym when you should be cleaning your house?"
"Too bad you don't have cuter work-out clothes."
"You  should pack healthier snacks for your kids."
"Why bother going to the gym you barely have enough time to work-out?"
"You should shower before you go because you smell/your hair is frizzy/your face is oily."
Once I am at the gym she gets really mean:
"Stop running you are sweating/jiggling/your stomach is showing/you have camel toe."
"You can only run 6 miles per hour? That's pathetic."
"Oh great there is that super skinny chick who has more kids than you do."
"Why are you doing sit-ups when your favorite beverage is beer?"
"Do you think that doing sit-ups is really going to get rid of the flabby tummy and stretch-marks?"
"Lifting weights is not going to hide the fact that you have breastfed 3 kids."
"Your husband is working his ass off and you are in the hot tub reading a book....just because it's a parenting book doesn't make it better."
"Quit the gym and save the cash for a makeover."
"Well at least you don't weigh 300 pounds like that woman over there."

And she doesn't shut her trap until I am actually in the shower.  Once the endorphins kick in from the exercise she finally shuts the fuck up. The gym is not the only place she shows up to talk shit to me,  but that's the only place where she has a megaphone.

Does this happen to anybody else?

Mother's Day 2010

Since I am a mommy blogger I am obligated to write something on Mother's Day.

I celebrated on Friday by going wine-tasting with my N.E.O. Mom friends in Napa. That was awesome!

Saturday my 4 year old daughter and 5 year old son had dance recitals.  That was awesome!

Today, Mother's Day, not so awesome.

My husband has been oncall all weekend, I have barely seen him. My kids were beastly today and it was pouring rain, trapping us inside. I could have gone to the gym but the time I got my act together the daycare was closed.  They closed early for Mother's Day.

I dragged everyone to the grocery store, during the brief time Erik was home, so we could have some together time and get out of the house. A husband is almost as bad at the grocery store as 3 kids.

I planned to make an amazing dinner, because I love to cook.  But Erik got called back to the hospital, so I cancelled it.

I let the kids play in the mud once it stopped raining, bathed them and put them to bed.  Bekah was inconsolable, crying for her father. I ran out of patience. Now I feel like shit for yelling at her and want to wake her up and apologize.

But this Mother's Day is still marginally better than the Mother's Day we took the kids to Hooters for dinner.

Happy Mother's Day.

Spring Numbers

For the new readers of this blog I would like to inform you that every year I take pictures of my kids when their ages run concurrently. Since my oldest 2 are 17 months apart and my youngest 2 are 15 months apart, every spring they are very close in age, until my oldest's birthday in June. This year I am the proud owner of a 3,4 and 5 year old.

I used to do this big production where I cut out pieces of cardboard in the shapes of their ages and covered them with wrapping paper.  I started off having them hold them, but then found it was easier to tape them to the wall above their heads.

This year I got almost no cooperation from them at all.

At first Mike completely refused, then Bekah and then Jake. This may be my last year doing this. I know the grandparents will be very disappointed.

Their tshirts say "I'm 3/4/5 what's your excuse?"  My plan was for them to line up against the wall so you could read their tshirts. Whatever.

Summer Camps 2010

After picking up my 2 oldest kids from school, I informed them of all the wonderful camps and activities I spent the whole morning signing them up for. My 5 year old proceeded to give me an alternate list of camps that he would prefer to attend.  All the way home from school he cracked himself up with these perfect camps:

Fart Camp
No Underwear Allowed Camp
Killing Sharks with Nerf Guns Camp
Weirdo Camp
Butt Camp (just in case you didn't get enough of Fart Camp), and
Wrestling With No Shirts On Camp


Sigh...........