Saturday, February 23, 2013


I believe all families have a set of weird and disturbing household rituals.  

Ours is the laundry.  We do 841 loads a week, approximately.  We have hampers for sorting the dirty and baskets for hauling the clean back to the bedrooms.  Sounds idyllic doesn't it?  Almost blissful...

 Yeah, it doesn't work that way, here's what happens:  all 841 loads, approximately, get folded into giant mounds, piled like plowed road snow. And there it will all sit, in the laundry room, for roughly the next 3 weeks.  Since we now have to trek across the house, past open window blinds, etc., to get anything to wear, we invariably dig around the bedroom closets and end up wearing clothes we thought we'd already thrown away.   Then those clothes pile up in and around the hamper until we finally make the trade.  Then the ritual starts over.

That's normal, right?

Monday, February 4, 2013


Herbie recently came down with a particularly nasty case of croup.  The AMP went to the drugstore and came home with my childhood nightmare:  Robitussin.

The AMP had no idea what a Pandora's Box this opened for me...he came from a more humane country that did not inflict the Tussin on its' smallest, weakest members.  So when the pharmacist said that The Devil's Own Personal Cough Syrup wouldn't interfere with Herbie's other medication, it was a slam dunk.

Until he got home and his wife burst into tears and the mere thought of having to give her precious only child any of This Vile Satanic Torture.  NNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

There are a few things I promised my baby while he was still in utero:  I would always make sure he had a cool haircut, I would not dress him in ugly boy clothes, I would love and accept him no matter which gender he loved, and I would never, ever, ever, give him Robitussin. 

Oh hell...

I am SO clinging to the other promises...

Sunday, December 16, 2012


Herbie has discovered a new love:  "Emergency!".  Yes, the TV show from the 70's.  He has been home sick lately, and he wants to watch Emergency over and over. 

Wow, what an experience for me!

It is an eye-opener to time travel to my childhood pop-culture.  So different than what we watch today.  Let's start with the trivial, shall we?  The hair!!  Non-hairstyle hairstyles, just shaggy and natural.  The bodies!  So many natural bodies...I've forgotten what it's like to see people who just look normal and average on TV.  The acting!  So, um, well, non-taxing.  Unless the leads, John Gage and Roy DeSoto (Randolph Mantooth and Kevin Tighe, respectively), are doing a water rescue, in which case the real actors get in real water that rushes in against a real coastline with real rocks and real tides and get their asses kicked!  No CGI, no stuntmen, no sets, just the real thing...amazing!  The writing!!  Oy vey, what writing?  The dialogue consists mainly of "take it easy" and "take it easy, man", "hey, man", "settle down", "you are going to be all right" et al.  And of course, "lactated ringers TKO" et al.   Except when the writing is being heavy-handed and preachy.  And the pacing!  It's like the actors are moving underwater.  How did Dixie (Julie London) get to be head nurse?  She seems to be in a coma most of the time.  And how the attitudes have changed!  With the exception of the Gage character, all these people are so snotty and brusque with other characters.  So very cranky all the time!  And let's talk about the characters...I have yet to see an episode where a Mom character isn't a total bitch who doesn't care about her kid.  There were some writers with Mommy issues!  And the rest of the women are either vacuous or bitchy.  Except for Dixie, the only woman treated with any respect by the writers. 

The last time I watched this show, I was a kid, with a completely different perspective than I have now.  As a kid, I thought Dr. Kelly Barrett (Robert Fuller) was hot stuff!  He was a man, not a boy, and he had great hair.  Now, I find Dr. Barrett, humorless, smug, and self-righteous.  He'd be a real pain in the ass to live with, so no, Dr. Barrett is no longer hot stuff.  Even though he's boyish, I find John Gage's optimism and humor more appealing.  I've hit an age where I know looks fade and personality means everything!

It's also interesting to see the societal subtext of the day...the black Doctor is subservient to Dr. Fuller and generally attends to black characters.  There are no women Doctors, there are no female firefighters/paramedics, Dixie has to get the doctors for everything, no autonomy for her. 

Watch Rescue Me or even Grey's Anatomy, then watch Emergency! and brace yourself! 

Sunday, November 25, 2012


This will not be a long post, primarily because it doesn't need to be.  Once I say the magic phrase, no more words will be needed.

So we recently had to put down our beloved old dog, The Hairy Carpet.  This was particularly wrenching because it was rather a surprise.  Because the Old Man was a big dog, we decided to have him cremated.  We'd spread some of the ashes in the forest and bury the rest in the backyard with our other pets. 

A week or so passed, the vet called and we picked up the urn.  The weather has been quite terrible, so we wanted to wait for a break in the weather to have our ceremonies.  Finally the day came and we went to the woods. 

As my husband is spreading the ashes, the wind picks up.  Guess where Herbie was.

Yes, The Big Lebowski.

Life really is a black comedy...

Saturday, November 3, 2012


Now that Herbie is in Kindergarten and I have some time here and there to spend with friends, one thing has become very clear:
I am no longer fit for humanity...
I have turned into an exuberant puppy that is so excited to see any human that they jump in the air and bark, while peeing a little.
I'm like a malfunctioning robot--HAL's benevolent idiot sister. 
I see another living being, and I don't intend to, but something happens and a torrent of words pour's like trying to have a conversation with a fire hose!  I answer the door the other day and before I can even comprehend what is happening, I am hemorrhaging words AT THE FEDEX DELIVERY WOMAN...and peeing just a little...
I used to speak in words, now I speak in terabytes...this onslaught of verbal  avalanche...
Don't get me wrong, I've always been a Chatty Cathy, just ask my teachers, but I was cogent!  Now, half the time the torrent sounds nonsensical, like a hyperactive Tourette's...
This is what 5 years of isolation has done?  I'm so thrilled to have an adult, any adult with which to interact that I knock them off their feet with my tidal wave?  Inside my head, my rational side says "for the love of God, will you please shut up!", but the rest of me isn't listening...Blort, blort, blort, the words keep coming...

Thursday, August 16, 2012


Herbie has a new favorite show:  Cops.

Yes, he caught it as we flipped through the channels one day, he begged me to record some episodes.  I told him it was too grownup for him but he BEGGED so I agreed but told him that he could only watch it with Mommy or Daddy so we could skip the parts he shouldn't see.  I thought we could turn the tamer parts of the show into "teachable moments".  Glass half-full, right? 

As it turned out, he really only likes the intros, the show itself bores him.  So, we are watching this intro...over and over and over, because that's my boy.  Everytime he see the intro he notices something different, finally he turns to me and says "look Mommy, the police are helping people move their houseplants".  Dear reader, you are not dumb, so I'm sure you know what kind of "houseplants" the police were helping to "move".  So I just turned to Herbie and said, "yes, honey, isn't that nice of them?"  

So much for teachable moments...

Friday, August 10, 2012


It's never a dull moment around our house...

I was carrying Herbie the other day and tripped on something, we fell together and no matter how I tried to prevent it, Herbie still hit his head on a sidewalk.  I was going to race him to the ER right then, but I calmed down and watched him...he seemed relatively okay.  Then he slept for 14 hours and woke up vomiting, so off to the ER we went! 

We spent a large chunk of the day at the ER, with tests and exams, etc..  Finally, it seemed we were in the clear and he could eat, and boy was he hungry!  A friend came to keep us company in the ER, and we were chatting.  Herbie climbed onto my lap for a cuddle, I was starting to feel a bit more relaxed.  Then Herbie vomited everything he had ever eaten in his life onto me.  Relaxation time over!

Herbie was my priority so I stripped his clothes off and got him into a clean gown.  I, however, was another kettle of fish...I was literally soaked with vomit, top and friend was trying to help me and so was a friend says to the nurse "and it's her birthday!"  The nurse paused and then said "Happy Birthday".   I started laughing, then I laughed harder, then my laughing turned into more of an hysterical laugh and I couldn't stop!  Now people are starting to look at me like I'm losing it, which just made it funnier to me, which made the intensity and pitch of my laughter increase. Now the nurse was really getting worried, and I thought a psych call was in my future. So I beat it, still laughing as I walked to the nearest bathroom, stripped my clothes off, did my best to wash them in the sink with hand soap, twist dry them and put it all back on again.  Hey, wet clothes are better than vomit clothes!  (Although they still smelled.)

The upshot is, Herbie has a concussion...he's still not right, but he is better and he's keeping food down.  As for spending my 49th birthday covered in vomit, well, it could have been worse, and since it wasn't worse, I'm grateful! 

Now if I could just forgive myself for not being able to protect him better...

Sunday, August 5, 2012


If there is anything I have learned since becoming a parent, it is this:  I am being educated as much as I am educating.  And I love it.  Herbie is teaching me how to live and get past old habits, beliefs, responses, etc..  I've always said that this child saved my life, I also know that he has healing it too.  And am I ever grateful!  Yes, I have a special needs child and it is like having triplets, sometimes.  Yes, we have difficulties that other parents can't imagine.  So what.  Things could always be worse.  And, as I view it, my son has a special needs Mom, he just doesn't know it, yet.  The baggage I carry from my childhood and life until Herbie's birth is my personal handicap.  I've had people say  how lucky Herbie is to have me for a Mom...I say I'm lucky to have him for my boy. 

Friday, July 27, 2012


I have a male model for a child, built to wear clothes well, with broad shoulders, a long torso, slim hips and long legs.  So I'm always on the lookout for clothes for him. 

If only I could find some...

Oh, sure, if I wanted to dress him like a cartoon character, or a circus clown, there's those clothes...cliched sports themes, TV show marketing, all other marketing, etc..  But normal, small person clothes?  Ha!!

No, those clothes are very hard to find, in part, because it's a Girl's World out there! 

I'll go into a shop and start looking...and looking...and looking...finally, when I'm about to ask if there is a separate store for their boy's clothes, I find the section.  It's in the hallway next to the bathroom and the fire exit.  There will be a broken rack, tilting from a missing caster, with 4 ratty pieces of clothing, covered in dust, advertising season 1 of Blues Clues.  You'll have to move the industrial metal mop bucket and mop out of the way to check the sizes...

I get it, the companies want to get the girls young and onto a debt-ridden life of princess behavior and compulsive shopping.  But, how are we going to create our next generation of metrosexuals if we don't start them young? 

I have heard from so many significant others/spouses/partners that one man or another doesn't dress worth a damn, has no fashion sense, always looks like hell, etc. etc.. 

Well, no wonder!!

Wednesday, May 16, 2012


So it turns out that I have given birth to Randy from the A Christmas Story movie...while Herbie does like to hide in cupboards, the way in which he is most Randy-ish is that he won't eat at the dinner table.  I even tried the "how does the piggy eat?" routine, to no effect.  How does the Lion eat, how does the Shark eat, nothing worked.  I know he was hungry, he just didn't want real food. 

Because Herbie has oral sensory issues, he likes to eat the same kind of food all the time, which in his case is crackers, pretzels, bread, pancakes...he's a carboholic...and not what I would consider real food.  I'm the Mom that swore, when pregnant, that my child would not eat junk...and here I am with a kid that only wants to eat foods that are predictable in his mouth...what I would call junk!

He ate everything until he turned 2.  I'm hoping this is a long phase and it will pass but just in case, I have that sneaky Mrs. Seinfeld cookbook that shows how to get vegies into everything...

Saturday, May 5, 2012


Before I had a child, I had worried about the "why" phase of was so stereotypical that I assumed I would face it.  Herbie is now 4 3/4 and has yet to have the "why" phase.  Instead,  he is going through a phase far more difficult:  "where".  

He wants to know from where each and every one of his toys came.  Who gave it to him and when?  He wants the full provenance of every single toy.  Every. Single. Toy.   This is really taxing my blank Mommy brain...I can hear the synapses burning.  Every. Matchbox. Car.  

I just figured it out!!  I'm living in the "Toy Roadshow"!

Tuesday, April 17, 2012


Herbie has been experiencing assorted spring ailments, so we have been watching more TV than usual. Nick Jr. has re-ordered their lineup so we are now stuck with way too much Yo Gabba Gabba and Dino Dan.  I have been struck by some similarities between the two.  Both shows feature a central character with obvious mental illness. 

First off, I think it is sweet that Canada gives a delusional, hallucinatory kid his own showcase for his particular illness...much like we have done with the Kardashians, and Jersey Shore...but the Americans are gross and disgusting.  Dino Dan's show is full of people humoring Dan and hoping he's had his meds.  How kind...and self-preserving. 

Speaking of meds, Yo Gabba Gabba needs a dosage adjustment. Up or down, I don't know but something for pete's sake!  I am a kid who grew up on HR Pufinstuf, and my family, so I'm not new to crazy, but YGG tries too hard to be genuinely crazy-fun.  It's just annoying and  I am sick to damn death of "AWESOME".  DJ Lance Rock was entertaining the first few times but now I just want him to shut up and take his imaginary friends off to his psych appointment. 

Now, if you want a genuinely fun and delightful show, watch Pocoyo!  Stephen Fry is magnificent as is everything else about the show.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012


You know that old saying about "never sending a boy to do a man's job"?  Well, never send a little girl to talk to a Mama Bear...

Herbie has particular health concerns.  In spite of medication, he had a seizure the other day.  The next day he was acting disoriented and extra wobbly so I took him to the ER.  The day after that, I got a phone call from a little-deer-in-the-headlights-girl doing the scheduling for one of the Doctors we saw at the ER.  You know the kind...the young girl with little confidence, a tentative nature, a little girl voice, the kind of girl that only understands what to do if each party follows the "script" of expectations.

I did not do that.

I am a Mama Bear.  I will do anything to protect, take care of, advocate for, my child.  I did not want to see this Doctor that I had only met for a brief period...I wanted my son's regular Neurosurgeon.  I very politely said as such to this girl.  She sputtered, hemmed, hawed, panicked and put me on hold.  The next person to pick up was a girl that sounded much the same as the first girl but had perhaps a month longer on the job.  I repeated myself, asking for an appointment with our regular Doctor, as soon as possible.  She got panicky because I wasn't doing what I was supposed to be doing...I was supposed to say "yes, thank you, when can you see us", pick a date, be grateful and get off the phone. 

What was the big idea, being all Mama Bear, and deviating from the expected response???  What's with this adversity?  They weren't supposed to be given adversity, their jobs were supposed to be easy!

Being an adult, and knowing how to respond to large variety of events, I continued to be polite, calm, and assertive.  This was not appreciated.  So the second girl moved from panicky to snippy.  She snippily offered me an appointment with our Doctor, I accepted gratefully and she hung up on me. 

Little girls have no idea what it is to be a Mama Bear. 

Tuesday, February 28, 2012


So the Not Made in China experiment has failed in a massive flame-out. 

I tried, I really did!  In my kitchen right now are 2 old Farberware percolators and an ancient Hobart A9 coffee grinder, the first household items I needed to replace after I enacted the No China Products policy.  I thought I'd be able to pull this off! 

Then Christmas got tougher.  Then I decided I wanted to start sewing again and everything crashed and burned.  I had no idea how many fabrics are made in China until I went to buy my favorites...what a shock that was! 

I came to realize that short of becoming Amish and looming my own fabric, I was fighting a losing battle. 

So, I'm giving up.  I am still going to choose products not made in China anytime I have the option to do so and that will have to do.  I'd like to be a better person, but I don't have that much energy.

I don't know how the family that went without Chinese products for a year did it!  They are better Amish than I...

Saturday, February 18, 2012


So I wake up in the middle of the night next to Herbie and he's barking like a seal, all he needs is a big ball and some fish.  He's struggling so hard to breathe that I call 911.  The 3 paramedics arrive, two younger guys and a middle-age guy.  They listen to Herbie, check his color, take his vitals.  The older of the 3 paramedics says to me: "is this your first child?"  I said "yes".  He smiled kindly and said "this is croup, he needs to go outside for 10 minutes and that will help him breathe."   I half-smiled, half-grimaced and said "oh...rookie mistake, huh?"

If that paramedic only knew that we were near the same age...

Monday, February 13, 2012


I'm not what you'd call a geek.  That being said, I LOVE my smartphone.  It is so handy to have a pocket computer...although I'm sure I only use 10% of its capabilities, because, as I said, I'm not much of a geek.  I grew in an era when girls didn't take advanced science and math classes as it might interfere with our home-ec classes. 

However...and there is always a however in life, isn't there?  However, there is one thing that makes me crazy about my smartphone.  When it rings, if I want to answer it, I can't actually touch it.  I have to divine the person on the other end, I can't touch the phone to answer it because it will hang up the call or put it into voicemail immediately.  I can dream of answering the phone, imagine answering the phone, visualize answering the phone, contemplate answering the phone, but for F sake, I cannot touch the phone to answer it. 

It is very inconvenient to have The Amazing Kreskin hang around on the off chance that I want to answer my phone. 

So friends, if you call me and I don't answer, put on your psychic helmet and I'll put on mine, then we can chat. 

Tuesday, January 3, 2012


Happy New Year! 

I don't generally make resolutions, however, in this case I am making two exceptions:

I will get back on my creative feet and post regularly again. 

I will re-devote myself to Primal eating so I can live long and healthy for my family.


We had a stay-cation for the holidays, just played and relaxed, it was wonderful.  I want to give big props to my beloved AMP...I just love watching and hearing him with Herbie, such a loving, fun Dad.  It's so obvious that we are a lovey-dovey family because Herbie hugs everyone he meets!  I love 4 year old's, they are so fun...

Although, because Herbie has some sensory integration issues, he has been a handful's been hard to take him out to places because he overstimulates/overwhelms easily.  Then he either goes bananas or tries to hide someplace quiet and dark.  Neither works well out in the public!  It looks, to the outsider, that Herbie is out of control and we aren't taking a firm enough hand with him. 


Neither assumption is true, he's just doing the best he can with a damaged cerebellum...and we are just doing the best we can with a special needs child.

Hence, we aren't going out much...

Oh well, this too shall pass...

Thursday, December 8, 2011


Well, the great "Not Made in China" life change has turned out to be a bit like driving with square wheels...I make some progress but it's slow, difficult, and makes my a** ache. 

Until I really started paying attention to all our purchases, not just Herbie's, I did not realize how insidious and encompassing the hold China has over our national addiction to cheap goods. 

Since I was unable to completely escape the Made in China label this Christmas season, it's probably a good thing that Herbie is learning Chinese from Ni Hao Kai Lan!  Actually, between that show and Diego, I'm never sure what he's saying...sometimes it's Chinese, sometimes Spanish, sometimes the AMP's English-English, sometimes my American-English, sometimes my swearing-English.  But I digress...

So, the intention continues, undoubtedly, so will the mistakes...

Wednesday, November 16, 2011


So once the AMP and I got rid of BofA and Chase, I took a look around to see what other changes we should make.  It occured to me that if we took a stand against one corporation that put profits in front of people, then why not the rest of them?  So, we decided to become a Not Made in China family.

Boy, did I underestimate how difficult that would be! 

The first test of resolve came in the form of a coffee making unit.  We wanted to get rid of our BPA laden Mr. I went on the hunt.  I didn't want to spend a fortune, I wanted a lot of coffee flavor, and I didn't want China.  So after researching all the options and taking our family style into consideration (hence, nothing that would shatter!) I went retro and bought a vintage percolator off ebay. 

Next?  Well, the percolator requires a different grind that could be achieved with our cheap little blade grinder, and I am a dedicated decaf person, I don't want caf mixed with my I had to hunt for a coffee grinder.  I ended up with a vintage A9 KitchenAid grinder off ebay.  I had been looking at a vintage manual grinder so the A9 was a step up.

Then I blew it...

I bought Herbie a Curious George Christmas ornament without thinking twice and guess where it was made? 

Okay, a speed bump...

Then I got thinking about other things to change in our house---we needed glass food storage, we need to re-season our abandoned cast iron pans...and Thanksgiving is coming so how to make our meal without canned pumpkin or canned milk like Mom used.  

Suddenly I realized that we'd come full circle in this country---or at least some of us have---I was returning to the methods my parents and grandparents utilized!  Everything has gotten so screwed up with toxins and chemicals that a return to "old ways" have become our option.  I haven't purchased a butter churn or dug a root cellar yet---but give me time...

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go buy a dress with a nipped in waist and full skirt, plus some pearls and kitten heels so I can vacuum with a cloth bag Kirby...

Wednesday, October 5, 2011



These are just a few of the bone-headed errors I have seen in the last few days.  I received an email from a prestigious political action committee with "funner" in it...a committee that I am certain has a PAID copywriter on staff.  A Reuters news article had "weary" when the sentence clearly required "wary", written by a PAID copywriter.  A well known children's education preschool channel using "your" instead of the needed "you're" so often, I've hit a state of despair beyond tears.  Your/you're and lose/loose has become so commonplace, I'm wondering if anyone ever went to school...

And I have never recovered from the tag line for orange juice '"SIMPLY UNFOOLED AROUND WITH"...FOR A NATIONAL AD CAMPAIGN!!  NATIONAL, AS IS REPRESENTING THE U.S.!!

I am married to a foreigner.  He has been in the States for many years but his family still lives overseas and we have spent a great deal of time there.  People in other parts of the world think Americans are stupid, loud, fat and spoiled.  AND THESE TYPES OF BONE-HEADED ERRORS ARE NOT HELPING!

When did education become suspect?  When did behaving like an educated, erudite, thoughtful human become a hindrance?

I have always felt that if you are being paid to do something, you should be able to do it better than most.  If you are being paid to write, then you should be able to do it better than the average 10 year old.  If you speak for a living, you should be able to do it better than the local juvenile delinquents. 

Now, if a monkey was writing all these above items and making these mistakes, I'd still be pretty impressed.  A grown adult doing the writing?  Not so much...

Tuesday, September 20, 2011


Hi everyone,

The fun rolls on in my world...shingles have now jumped onto the bandwagon...I'm calling this Satan's Trifecta--shingles, Epstein-Barr and adrenal fatigue (we'll leave menopause off the list for now!). 

Hence, I am not feeling even a little bit funny-in a good way, so I'm going to repost one of my favorites from the past:


Herbie the Love Bug is such a delightful little man--he makes me laugh more than any supposedly funny movie I've ever seen.  And sweet, boy is he sweet and loving.  And helpful, so helpful. Sometimes it's little stuff like picking up something I've dropped, or getting a plastic container out of a drawer, helping to move laundry from the washer to the dryer...such a love, such a great helper.

On the other hand, Herbie also has a speciality we call "helpiness".  Because he's only 3, he understands generalities well, but nuances, not so much.    He knows that clean laundry in the laundry basket needs to be emptied...the part he doesn't get is, into drawers or closets.  So while the dryer is going for another batch, he finds a waiting laundry basket in the laundry with clean folded clothes...laundry baskets are supposed to be emptied, so out onto the floor goes all the clean clothes.  Oh, and laundry baskets are also supposed to be filled with dirty clothes for the laundry, so in goes clothes on the floor...any clothes he can sorted dirty clothes on the floor gets mixed with the clean clothes he just emptied...then he takes them out again and puts them in again...then repeats that process until either Daddy or I find him...concerned because he was being too quiet...(Herbie is quite the ninja when he wants to be)   Once we find his helpiness, all the clothes have to be washed again.  Helpiness. 

Helping:  picking up his toys
Helpiness:  picking up his toys and redistributing them behind us while Daddy and I pick up before company comes

Helping:  carrying the car keys while we shop
Helpiness:  putting the car keys on a random shelf somewhere in the Trader Joes while we shop

Helping:  handing us a remote just when we need it
Helpiness:  hauling the remote around the house and leaving it somewhere that makes sense to him (shoe, toilet, fireplace, flowerbed) after randoming pushing buttons until he changed the TV language to Swahili

Yes, sometimes it is incredibly frustrating...and most of the time, it is incredibly hilarious...I'm going to miss these days when I'm old and this rate, that should take about a week.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011


Well shoot, sometimes it just doesn't pay to ask questions...

I haven't been posting as often lately for two reasons:  I haven't felt funny but I have felt exhausted and depleted.  I decided to talk to my Doctor. 

So blood was taken, tests were run and Voila:  adrenal fatigue, beginning of menopause and Epstein-Barr aka Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.

Great!  Can you feel my joy emanating from the screen?

Okay, I've always been a "play the hand you are dealt" person, so fine, I'll wager and play.  There is a silver lining to this...I don't have to feel so profoundly guilty for all the Rocky Road Haggen Daz...I've gotten off caffeine so the next means to get energy is sugar...that's my Dr.'s story and I'm sticking with it! 

I knew about the adrenals, the Epstein-Barr I didn't know about and it sucks, that's true...yet, it's the menopause news that bothers me the most.  1-5 years of menopause ahead.  1-5 years of hot flashes, sweats, moodiness, and more fun along those lines. I knew it would arrive but I thought I'd be in my 50's, not 40's. 

Okay fine, I'm not that far from 50, but my age still starts with a 4...

So friends, stick with me, I hope to feel funny, in a good way, again soon!

Friday, August 26, 2011


The other day, Herbie had a great many things on his mind...I could tell by his furrowed brow, his preoccupied behavior...I mentioned it to the AMP when he got home but as it turned out, we didn't have to worry for long.  Not long after the AMP got home, Herbie climbed up on him and said "Daddy, Daddy, I have to talk to you", so Daddy said "okay, sweetheart, let's talk".  They climbed onto the bed for cuddle time and once they got settled, Herbie climbed up and got his face into Daddy's face, put a hand on each side of Daddy's face and said, very urgently, almost desperately:

"Daddy,  please,  I  just  have  to do you feel about Cuckoo Clocks?"

I just fell about the place...I had to run out of the room to laugh my ass off, that was so kooky, so oddball, so hilarious, I was in awe of my child!


Sunday, August 21, 2011


Wow, it's been a while since I posted!  Sorry about that...the truth is, I battle adrenal exhaustion and sometimes I feel my bum slapping the back of my heels.  When that happens, it's all I can do to just be a parent.

On to other things...

It has become apparent to the AMP and I that we haven't been as careful about what we say in front of Herbie as we had been.  We've heard a lot of things like: "where's my Godd**n crayon?" and "where's my damn car" and "sh*t, I need to find my fire truck", "good morning damn dog", "I love my damn dog, where is he?" 

While I am not the only person in this house that swears around our beloved little man, I will say that I do more of it.  I spent my entire adult working life in male dominated industries where swearing was a badge of honor.  But that is not all...I did come by my potty mouth quite honestly:  my Father.  My father swore in front of me a lot.  Now keep in mind that swearing to my Dad's generation and swearing to subsequent generations are two different concepts.  My dad was the King of "hell, damn, sh*t, sonofab***h, bast**d but I was an adult before I heard him utter anything worse.  That is practically child's play today!  My Mom used to scold my Dad for swearing in front of me so he tried to stop.  If he started a swear word or phrase and didn't finish it because of my presence, I would help him by finishing it for him, as if he just couldn't remember the rest of it.  Dad, would simultaneously look embarrassed, proud and amused. Yeah, my Mom loved that...

So, here I am in my Dad's place:  an older parent, swearing in front of the monkey and hearing those swear words repeated.  And I am embarrassed (like Dad, by my behavior causing this), and terribly, terribly amused.  Okay, here it is, I find hearing Herbie repeat my swearing with the same intonation absolutely hilarious!  I have to leave the room so he won't see me laugh!  I'm sorry, but it's funny!  Yeah, my Husband loves that...

Friday, August 5, 2011


Just got back from an exhausting, whirlwind trip to my hometown for my 30th (gulp) high school reunion.


The 30th is an interesting reunion...

The 10th is still much like high school, with the cliques and then everyone else.  The nobodies have either bloomed and are reinventing themselves and flaunting it, or are much the same as before, or they don't come at all because they couldn't care less.

At the 20th, there has been some life lived and it shows.  There is less of the cliques and more of the drinking.  This is the first time you've really seen some of the hits your classmates have taken in life. 

At the 30th, it really breaks down thusly:  I recognized a person immediately---more years, weight, wrinkles, less hair but nonetheless they still look like themselves.  For the rest, it was a game show called "Name That Classmate!!"   You stare at a high school graduation picture on their chest, then look at the person's face, then back to the picture, then back to the face, and after about 10 minutes of doing this, you still can't comprehend who you are seeing!  It's impossible to reconcile the person you once knew with the person now standing in front of you. 

One more delineation:  the people that have emotionally matured and don't care what their classmates from 30 years ago think of them...a chunk of the rest are still obviously trying way too hard to impress and it just comes off as sad and pathetic.  And a few are just happy to still be alive!

Oh, and yes, I was the oldest female classmate with the youngest child. 

Speaking of which, Herbie is demanding I get off the computer and do it NOW!!

Alas, I must go...

Monday, July 25, 2011


I had such dreams when I was pregnant...I was going to feed my child organic, non-GMO, handmade food with lot's of veggies so he would grow up with a love of vegetables and healthy food in general. 


It worked until he turned two, then everything was "no" and "yuck" and "icky".  By three it was "it's too hot", "it's too cold", "it's too yummy", "it's too yucky", "it's too green".  Now that Herbie is almost 4, it's


I'm happy that he likes fruit but that's all he wants to eat!  And if we run out, then it's watermelon, apples, bananas...if we are out of those, then his back up foods are:  french fries (homemade), rice crackers, gluten-free pretzels, ice cream and chocolate.  As far as he is concerned, these are the only foods worth eating. 

Don't get me wrong, I always say "no, you have to eat real food."  He hears Charlie Brown's teacher.

He's a carbaholic!  The AMP and I have gone Primal (no grains) in order to control insulin output and it's ensuing damage.  Meanwhile, Herbie is all carbs, all the time! 

At what age does my cooperative, eager-eater come back? 

I long to hear "Mommy, could I have some peas?"  or "Mommy, I would like some broccoli", and "Mommy, may I have more salmon?"

Well, a girl can dream...

Monday, July 18, 2011


We live in a charming neighborhood full of kids, dogs and trees.  It's peaceful and friendly (with the exception of the asshats trying to set a world land speed record every time they drive on our road...but I digress).  

Turns out our neighborhood isn't the idyll we thought...turns out we have a Monster in our midst.  It's not the Coyote that lives in the woods---the one that is undoubtedly responsible for all the missing cats around here.  It's not Mr. and Mrs. Crone, the nastiest couple in our neck of the woods--mean-spirited and ugly of heart.  It's not even the speeding asshats in a kid and pet neighborhood.  No, it's the:


Yes, the Ice Cream Truck...

The Monster of the Woodlands is the good-natured Good Humor (and others) Man.  All cheerful and happy, playing that sugary song---It's a Small World or something of that ilk--one of those diabetes inducing cringe fests.  All Happy Happy Joy Joy...if you are a kid. 

If you are the Parent of the Kid, it's a daily battle between good and evil (okay, not EVIL evil).  It's the ongoing dance of power and eventual world domination featuring a 3 (almost 4) year old and his parents wrought at our doorstep. 

Great...'cause we don't have that everyday with everything already...

As far as Herbie is concerned, that song heralds the arrival of all things good and right in the world.  The concept of "treat" is anathema to a 3 (almost 4) year old!  If a "treat" is good once in a while, then it's good all the time, right?!   We're raising a regular Charlie Sheen...

More often than not, Mama has to say "no".  As far as Herbie is concerned that makes me:


And yes, we know we have created these monsters by saying "yes" the first time the ice cream truck came to our neighborhood.  Yup, neither the AMP or I had an ice cream truck in our respective neighborhoods while growing up...and were jealous of the kids who hey, it will be fun for Herbie, yay!! 

Just goes to show how wrong you can be...

Tuesday, July 12, 2011


So it seems, after unpacking completely and orchestrating a whole house search, that one of my shoes did not make it home from our cruise.  It was a new shoe complete with new orthotic...not a cheap combo...and I suspect it now resides on a dock or on the bottom of the inside passage. 

Herbie loved playing on the "verandah" of our cabin---where I come from, it's a balcony but that doesn't sound expensive enough for the cruise lines.  Anyway, I suspect that my new shoe/orthotic was used as a science experiment demonstrating cause and effect.  Herbie causes the shoe to go overboard and the effect is Mommy running around like a nutter trying to find a shoe that I still assume I own but have misplaced. 

My grand delusion has has my shoe. 

We thought we knew what the financial pitfalls would be on our cruise...never thought it would be so pedestrian...pun intended.

Friday, July 8, 2011


I have spent years learning how to cook, and don't get me wrong, I'm not there yet!  But, I certainly have made much progress from the days of putting a frozen dinner in the microwave and calling it cooking.  I have years of "Cooks Illustrated" saved for reference, a stack of cookbooks to which I refer and several cooking blogs saved on my desktop.  I am always trying out something new--sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't but at least I'm trying. 

Come to find out, I am wasting a lot of time...

Because, in Herbie's world there is no food better than the food that spends time on the floor. 

Apparently the floor seasons better than fresh herbs and spices, the Maillard reaction or simmering low and slow.  Any previously rejected food becomes gloriously attractive once it has been dropped on the floor.

The floor.

I find myself repeating "immunity building, immunity building, immunity building" as a mantra to ward off the horrors of floor germs while secretly worrying if we will soon need to head to the hospital from whatever has become "the flavor enhancer". 

Don't get me wrong, I try to stop him...he's quick!  I'll say "no, icky, icky, we don't eat stuff off the floor", or "let me get you a fresh one, the floor has ruined that one", things to that effect.  I take dropped food out of his hand...once I even tried to get it back out of his mouth.  That's probably why he loves dropped food so much, it's a forbidden mystery.  He doesn't realize he's giving his devoted Mama little panic attacks!

So there is my helpful cooking advice...if you run out of ideas, try the floor!

Monday, July 4, 2011

CARS 2 IS A #2

CARS 2...


The AMP and I planned Cars 2 as Herbie's first movie in a theater, since he loved Cars (1) so much.  We knew we taking a risk with Herbie being 3 (almost 4!), that he might not sit through the movie, that he'd make noise or it would be too loud (and it was!), etc., but we were excited for him regarding Cars 2.  What we didn't expect was what we got.

Unbeknownst to me, apparently Quentin Tarantino has taken over the MPAA...Cars 2 has the approximate bullet count of the Battle of Gettysburg, yet it is rated G.  G!!!   Bullets flying in a G-rated PIXAR film!!  Violent, loud, over-the-top, soulless, empty...we might as well have gone to a Michael Bay film!

What the hell happened to Pixar????!!!

I will take some responsibility, I did not read any reviews first.  In my defense, I will say that I never, ever expected Pixar to go so far off the map!  Their movies have always had such humor, heart and soul, such courage and cleverness.  Yes, there was an attempt at heart and humor in Cars 2, and it was utterly overshadowed by the dreck.  If we hadn't had two older kids with us, we would have walked out.  By the way, the two older kids didn't like it either.

In our household, the most despised film is "Magnolia" (pretentious, self-indulgent, self-important crap).  So bad we created "Magnolia Scale" of movie ratings.  "Magnolia" sits at the top of the scale...sadly, Cars 2 is only one notch below.

Shame on Pixar...

Thursday, June 30, 2011


The bane of my existence:  trying to find something...usually the remotes, cordless phone, cell phone, Herbie's glasses, Herbie's shoes, Herbie's jacket, occasionally my car keys...yup, those are the big ones I spend an inordinate amount of time trying to find.  Sometimes it feels like that is all I'm doing...trying to find one or all of those items. 

Yay vacation!  A break from all that searching, whew...

You'd think, wouldn't you?  After all, we were on a cruise to Alaska, the rooms are small, we weren't using our cell phones, no cordless, don't need car keys and Herbie's stuff would be confined to one small space, yay!!

Guess what...the universe simply readjusted my normal searching onto the remaining item:  the remote.  We are on a ship, in a small room, and yet I STILL HAD TO SEARCH FOR THE REMOTE!!  Holy Cow!  I couldn't believe it!  I STILL HAD TO LOOK FOR THE REMOTE??  ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME???   We didn't watch the TV much, as most of the handful of channels were devoted to different ways you could spend every last dime you had or would ever have on crap that benefits the cruise line...I'm sorry, I don't want a yellow emerald that reminds me of dog pee...I get enough of that at home with Numbnuts.  But I digress...

So now we are home and all is right with the world...I can't find anything.

Monday, June 27, 2011


Hello All!  We just returned from our first cruise vacation, a lot more fun with a three year old than being stuck on a plane! 

What surprised me was our return...we slept for two days!  I didn't realize our vacation had been so exhausting, but now that I've thought about it, that makes sense.

See, the AMP likes adventure travel...and by adventure, I mean dangling from helicopter over an erupting volcano.  Zip-lining from the top of the Alps to the valley below.  Riding Cat 5 rapids on a pool noodle.

We have a three year old.

Hence, while Daddy rodeo rides a wild Mustang, Herbie and I do things more suited to a little guy.  Riding trains, walking around, etc..

So while the AMP needed to recover from running with the bulls, I needed to recover from parenting on vacation...not terribly different from parenting while at home! 

Except someone else was cooking and cleaning...sigh, I'm sure going to miss that...

Sunday, June 12, 2011


It sure was nice to have the AMP's parents visit...not just because we love them and miss them, living 6,000 miles apart...not just because it was a fun "staycation" for us, not just because we had more sets of eyes on Herbie and he had "new" was nice for all those was also nice for this reason:

We didn't live like depressed college students.

Just before they arrived we had a house jihad and felt so much better.   While they were here, we all kept the kitchen nice and tidy and we got slightly caught up with laundry since Herbie was not helping us with "helpiness", he was too busy charming the grandparents.  Once they went home, we had high hopes for keeping our house such a pleasant place in which to live. 

That lasted about 4 days. 

Now everything is back to "normal" (read: crappy).  Laundry is sprawled all over the laundry room, the kitchen counters are piled with dishes while the AMP and I wait out each other seeing who will cave first.  He and I both grew up in households where the cook didn't clean up, yet I do all the cooking and he cleans up only at gunpoint.   The garbage cans are overflowing and the diaper pail hasn't been emptied since Charlie Sheen went crazy.  Well, crazier.

See what I mean about depressed college students? 

Midnight has come, the carriage turned back into pumpkins and Cinderella has to walk home...

Monday, June 6, 2011


Sorry all, I am much delayed in getting out a new post!!  I do have lots of good reasons, however...

Our visit from the AMP's parental units in from the UK just was a short trip, only a week and it flew by in the blink of an eye.  Prior to their arrival, we were actively working on making our house presentable.  We were ruthlessly getting rid of any surplus in the house and garage.  We worked and worked...we had a house jihad.  While we were feeling pretty good about our progress, we didn't yet feel satisfied...then it struck us:  satisfaction would only come by making the house look like we didn't live here!!   Once we came to that conclusion, we called the project finished. 

It's interesting to have a mix of grandparents and parents in one house...grandparents are all about "yes"...yes to staying up late, yes to chocolate for breakfast, yes to any toy, yes to any deafening noise, yes to pounding on drums, yes to paint and pudding and rocks and's all good...

Parents are more about "maybe", "perhaps", and "no" it's past bedtime, maybe you can have chocolate after real food, perhaps you can have a new toy if you let Mommy get her shopping done first, perhaps you could use your inside voice and inside drum pounding, maybe we could play with paint or pudding after a nap, no you cannot throw rocks at the windows and okay, you can jump in the puddle (it is his job, after all).

So if I let the grandparents be, Herbie turns into a wildebeest.  If I do my job, Herbie doesn't get that "grandparent fun".  And the grandparents don't get to have "grandparent fun".  Where do I find the balance? 

Guess what I did?  That's right...mostly wildebeest.

Now the grandparental units have gone home...and Herbie wants chocolate for breakfast.

Well, at least we all had fun...

Sunday, May 22, 2011


I recently heard on the news that for the first time since the 1950's, the name Elvis did not appear on the list for boy baby names. 

I blame the Fireman Sam show.  The character of Elvis on that show would make even Colonel Parker hate that name. 

 Fireman Sam heralds the fall of civilization...

Tuesday, May 10, 2011


I don't know if the AMP is trying to gaslight me or if Herbie is gaslighting both of us, but things disappear off the face of the earth in this house.  Our house is a vortex...

I just don't understand how we can see something in our house one day and the next day it's gone, never to be seen again.  Is one of our closets a portal into the time-space continuum?  Are we on an old burial ground?  Does some critter come in through the dog door and steal our stuff like that cat on youtube?  Do we have a secret transporter, and if we do, does it work on body fat? 

I know that Herbie's favorite job is moving our stuff all over the house so we never know where to find anything but c'mon, it's not like he's sneaking our stuff down to Yuppie Pawn for quick cash.  We have a finite number of closets, drawers, coat pockets, shoes, cars, flower beds, dog food bags, laundry hampers, flowerpots, toys, indoor and outdoor furniture in or under which he can deposit household goods, so why oh why can't we find our missing items? 

And why oh why do "they" only take the stuff we need but leave the broken stuff, the recycling, the no-long needed alone to grow exponentially? 

Monday, May 9, 2011


Glory Hallelujah, I have my netbook back!  I have been lost without it and this blog has suffered...

Hence, I am a day late talking about Mother's Day.

I told the AMP I wanted a Roomba for Mother's Day (used was okay!).  He told me he hoped we just could spend the day together...I can't decide if that makes him sweet or cheap!  Maybe both...

Truth is, Herbie is the greatest gift I've ever gotten so everything else does pale by comparison.

I hope you had a nice Mother's Day!

Monday, May 2, 2011


I admit that I have been rather disoriented when I go into Herbie's room as of late.  I keep turning to the 6 month old Cloth Mountain to get his clothes.  The CM has been a giant mass of clean clothes, of all seasons and sizes, that I have been too daunted to tackle.  Just too many dominoes have to fall to facilitate that process.  So I have been putting Herbie in wrinkly clothes operating on the idea that he is cute enough to get away with it.  Or I put him in something fresh out of the dryer that hasn't made it to the CM. 
Did you notice the "has been" tense? 

Yes!  I conquered the Cloth Mountain!!!  

Now when I go I to Herbie's room, I find myself momentarily confused
because I have to go to the drawers again...I mean, clothes in drawers, who ever heard of that?

'Course, I should clarify that I conquered the CLEAN Cloth Mountain...the dirty Cloth Mountain in the laundry room is utterly endless...

Monday, April 18, 2011


The Day has finally Arrived! 

I now know what "Buckapenis" means! 

For the uninitiated, I have previously posted about Herbie's use of the term "buckapenis".  For months, we have not been able to figure out what he is really trying to say. 

So today, Herbie is home sick and because I feel bad for him, when he asks for the jaw-clenching, cringe-inducing "Fireman Sam", I relent.  And while I am multi-tasking trying to block the sound, I hear a familiar word come from the animated program:   "buckapenis"!!

Now I know what he is saying:  "...the back of Venus" in a Welsh accent. 

God help me, I can tell you this right off the top of my head:  there are two fire trucks in the Fireman Sam show--one is called Jupiter and one is called Venus.  In this particular episode the character "Elvis" needs to make a rescue while in a leg cast.  So he tells another character to get a tool "it's in the back of Venus", and that sounds just like "Buckapenis" when said with a Welsh (or faux Welsh) accent!! 

One mystery down, 92 left to go!

Thursday, April 14, 2011


Prior to becoming a parent, I had no idea the extent poo would play in our lives.  So much poo!! 

Think about it...

When our little loves are born, what is one of the things we are told to observe:  the black poo.  After that, we monitor their poo for signs of, oh jeez, I don't want to go into it all...if you are a parent, you already know.  If you aren't a parent, you don't want to know. 

Then there is the illness poo...the famous Poonami...of which I have previously written.  The medication poo, the probiotics poo, the "too many fruit wraps" poo, the allergy poo, the potty-training poo, the "naked outside and stops to poo" poo...the list is endless!  The poo is constantly under observation! 

And God forbid, no poo!  Then it's flax oil, avocado, pears and prunes until the poo appears, so even no poo is about poo!

Someday I am going to write a book about all the little secrets no one tells you prior to becoming a parent...

Wednesday, April 6, 2011


I was at a toddler birthday party recently and the Mother handed out gift bags to the kids...let me correct myself, the Mother handed out Swag Bags for the Oscars. If it hadn't already been the end of the party, the rest of us were going to create a diversion so we could make off with the loot. Afterwards, the other Moms discussed how we couldn't possibly reciprocate the invitation because we couldn't afford to match the gift bag!! And FFS it was expected...
This is a phenomenon I had not previously experienced. When I was a kid, the fun thing the guests got at a birthday party was CAKE! And ICE CREAM! And maybe a bit of CANDY if your parents were hip and had a pinata. Then we kids would run around, play games and try to avoid the little bastardo that was trying to bash each of us with the pinata stick.
Somewhere in the ensuing years some hellish shrew, some mistress of satan, decided that we needed to bribe children to come to sugar and playing with other kids aren't the best bribes to a kid. No, now we had to go out and buy crap that no kid or parent really wants or needs, and have it grow and multiply in our already Fibber McGee'd households...or spend a fortune on a Swag Bag that isn't really for the kids but for the other parents to see how generous, boastful, loaded, bankrupt, (insecure, surely) these parents happen to be.
It is time to end this ridiculous practice!!!
Wouldn't it be nice to take something off the to-do list? To take something out of the budget? To take one worry about being good enough off the plate?

Thursday, March 24, 2011


I have a question continuously rolling around in my head...when did I turn into an old fart?  It completely snuck up on me!  How do I know it happened? 


Yup, Huffington Post.  I'll go in to check out the Entertainment news and it will be one silly tart, of both sexes, after another.  I guess they are mostly reality show people...they have a lot of sex tapes, bad boob jobs/plastic surgery, horrendous fake-n-bake tans, screwed up values, stupid names and entirely questionable IQ's.  I know I'm an old fart because I remember when behavior was modified by a sense of self-respect, self-esteem, shame, embarrassment, disgrace.  Now that gets you a "reality show".  I remember when obnoxiousness, stupidity, an unjustified sense of self-importance and entitlement were bad things.  Again, now, fame and money.   I recently saw a headline that read:  "who keeps leaking the sex tapes?".  They are kidding, right?  Look at Kim Kardashian's life since her sex tape and you'll have your answer.  

How do I convince my son that college is crucial when fame and money is heaped upon people who just frak on tape? 

See?  Old fart...

Thursday, March 17, 2011


I will admit that when we had a son as opposed to a daughter, I felt some relief.  I had been told by so many friends that girls were harder than boys, especially during the teen years.  As one of 5 girls, I could relate!  Whew, a boy, less drama!! 


Herbie is at a "Touchpoints" phase---T. Berry Brazelton (Braselton?) put forth the concept in a book of the same name---and I have seen it to be true with Herbie.  What this means is, the "halfs" are other words, age 3 1/2 is a more difficult and distruptive time for Herbie (and us!!) than 3, etc.. 

And Herbie is a little over 3 1/2 now.  Boy, is he ever. 

Apparently the AMP and I are terribly cruel...we do hideous things like, offer food, and he goes screaming through the house...slamming doors...

When did our little man turn into a 14 year old girl??

I've gone deaf in one ear from trying to brush his teeth---yes, neighbors, the bloodcurdling screams you hear---we aren't actually setting him on fire, we are just trying to brush his teeth. 

He doesn't want to wear anything I pick out.  Shirts are "too shirty", socks are "too socky", etc..

He argues with everything we say...he'll say up is down just for the sake of disagreeing.  The other day he told the AMP, "Daddy say 'it's Sunday'"...AMP says "okay, it's Sunday"...Herbie screams "it is not, it's Wednesday" AMP says "okay, it's Wednesday"...then Herbie screams "it is not, it's Sunday!" 
Just to argue!!

And when he wants something he wants it NOW!!! otherwise it is complete devastation.

I've been told this is good, the more defiant he is now, the less defiant he will be as a teenager.  I've also been told that this is just a preview of what we'll see as a teenager. 

I'm sure hoping for the first option.

Oh, I hear screaming, Miley Cyrus is back in the building...

Monday, March 7, 2011


I have a classic story to pass on from a dear friend of soon as I heard this story, I knew it had to go on the blog...

My friends, let's call them Jane and John and their daughter Cutie Pie, age 3.  They went on a family trip to Hawaii recently.  Not only was this a trip to one of their favorite destinations but there was an added bonus:

George Clooney was filing a movie on the same island at the same time!!

Now, Jane and I share a love of George so I was on the edge of my seat for this story...

So, Jane was harboring a secret hope of seeing George somewhere on the island while they were there.  One night, Jane's luck hit.  Jane, John and Cutie Pie were having dinner at a restaurant and in walks George and some bodyguard types...they were all dressed down and trying to blend in, George in a ballcap pulled low, etc..  They sat down just a couple of tables from Jane, John and Cutie Pie.

Jane stopped breathing, eyes wide.  John jumped up to do the Heimlich...Jane waved him off and whispered, "It's George, It's George!!!"  John, not a follower of Hollywood, was utterly indifferent but recognized the joy this was bringing Jane, so when Cutie Pie asked what was wrong, he explained that Mommy would be in another world for a little while.  And she was...Jane was thinking through the possibilities of persuading George to have a girlfriend that came with a husband and a toddler.  It could work!  They could all live at Lake Como together...just that pesky matter of convincing both men that it was doable, if everyone was just open-minded.   George...Lake Como...George...John and Cutie Pie...back to George, George, George...

Jane was soon bumped out of her delicious Cutie Pie standing at her side yelling, "Mama, I have to go poopa, I have to go poopa...Mama, poopa, have to poopa".  Did George notice?  Of course he did!  The whole restaurant did, she's THREE...there are opera singers who would kill for the power of a three year old's voice!!

And boom, the fantasy collapses like a politicians' promises.

While mortified, Jane did notice a small smile come to George's face after CP's outburst, which made Jane love him even more.

Unless it was secretly a grimace while George willed himself sterile...

Monday, February 28, 2011


So as the Mom of a little boy, I am often confronted with people saying things like "oh, wait until he's into bugs and worms and other gross things".  I'm not too worried about worms unless he makes a meal of them on a regular basis (the kid puts everything in his mouth so I'm sure a worm will someday make the list). 

Now, bugs are another story...

I have bugs set up in two categories:  the ones I like and the other ones.  The ones I like:  butterflies, fireflies, dragonflies, praying mantis, the big, fat, furry black and gold bumblebees (not those damn "meat bees" that make eating outdoors a misery), ladybugs, the pre-butterfly caterpillars...okay, those are the ones I can think of off the top of my head.   I consider these bugs to be charming, cute, enjoyable, funny, delightful...the "Big Bang Theory" of bugs, if you will.

For the other team:  everything else.  spiders, mosquitoes, flies, gnats, chiggers, silverfish, earwigs, carpenter ants, termites, roly-poly's, every member of the bee family aside from the cute ones, and anything else not listed on the cute side.  I consider these bugs to be disgusting, pointless, foul, hideous, icky and gross...the "Jersey Shore" of bugs, if you will.  The only good thing I can say about these is:  the bats around here eat them, the woodpeckers around here eat them, toads and frogs and ducks and chickens eat them, etc.

Now if we could only find something that would consume the cast of  "Jersey Shore".

Monday, February 21, 2011


We are usually pretty busy in this household, so when we have days with no appointments, no pre-school, etc., I usually really slob it out.  I find that I am quite tired on those days so we do very little...the AMP will come home and Herbie and I will still be in our PJ's...and why not?  Outside, it's only light-ish and crummy and it's so nice inside!  And jammies are so comfy...

Recently, I had a disturbing was a tired day...Herbie was moving our stuff around the house, like he does, and I was watching TV.  We have a TV with a presence sensor so it will shut itself off if no one is in the room for a period of time.  I was sitting on the couch, drooling, and watching some show. 

The TV turned itself off. 

The presence sensor did not detect my presence...

I was at a new level of inert....


Unbeknownst to me, I had apparently fallen into a coma..  Maybe I was just dreaming all of this and had been in a coma for years...that would explain a lot, actually. 

Or, since it is winter, it could be human hibernation!  That sounds much better!

Then Herbie ran over my foot with his ride-on fire truck and brought me back to my senses.

Well, this situation could not stand so I went into action.  I got dressed, searched the house for the toothpaste---found it in a coat pocket, then searched for matching shoes--found one under the bed and one in the dog water bowl---okay, one's a little squishy, I am undaunted...then I actually checked my hair to see if it was a Medusa reject or halfway decent...then I grabbed the Love Bug and out the door we went. 

Out into monsoon rain, piercing gale force wind and a freezing cold temperature...

Then I remembered why I had been hibernating in the first place!  Hello jammies, I love you...

Monday, February 14, 2011


I once lived on the Big Island, aka the island of Hawaii.  While living there I learned the term "da kine", pronounced just like it looks.  Well da kine means anything depending on its' use.  That's not how it started but that's how it is now.  We have a version of da kine in our's:

Yes, "buck a penis".  We have no idea what Herbie is trying to say!!  It's driving me crazy...I thought I had it about a week ago when he crawled into the laundry hamper to grab a toy and came out with his "Inmate Transport Bus" (part of a "rescue" set of little vehicles) and said "my bucka penis".  Eureka!  It's his "bus of prisoners"!   That conclusion was short-lived.  A few days later he handed me his fire truck puzzle box and said "Mommy can we put together buckapenis?".  Yay!  It's "box of puzzle pieces"....ha, too easy.
Last night I gave him some juice and he said "Mommy, you gave me buckapenis, thank you!".  What?  Juice is now buckapenis?  

That's when it hit me...buckapenis is his da kine!  We may not know what he is actually trying to say, but we do know that whatever it is, it's good!  We can offer him anything, call it buckapenis and he's excited to eat or drink it!   I hope this works for a while!

I'll keep you posted and let you know if and when we ever discover the actual buckapenis.  In the meantime,...

Happy Buckapenis to all!!

Sunday, February 13, 2011


Holy Cow, the Sprout Channel is flogging Valentine's Day like it will bring peace to the Middle East!

Yeah, I know, I need to get out of the house more...

Thursday, February 10, 2011


There's both good and bad aspects to being an older parent.  I thought I had most of them figured out but one has taken me by surprise...I am creeped out by some of the shows Herbie likes to watch.  I've seen too many movies, have too much life experience to enjoy all of the innocent kid shows.  'Course, I grew up on H.R. Puff-N-Stuff so maybe I'm assuming too much innocence in these shows...

Take Bob the Builder--seems innocent enough--oh sure, except for the Scarecrow straight out of the horror movie "Pumpkinhead" and scary "Dr. Who" episodes...

Or the Scholastic read-along DVD version of the old Curious George book, "Curious George Rides a Bike".  George bangs up his bike and two men hauling the circus animals come by and offer to take George to the show in their truck and fix his bicycle---yeah, too "Mystic River" for me!   Makes me want to yell "run, George, run" at the screen...

Then there's Barney...I can't put my finger on it, he just bugs me...maybe it's the song...too "icky pedophile at the playground"...oh, don't even get me started on that topic!  That's a whole 'nother blog...

Which reminds me, no show with clowns...thanks John Wayne Gacy.

And what kind of freaky acid trip is "DirtGirlWorld"??  Yeesh!

Looking over this post it comes to me:  jeez we need to get out of the house!  Come on Spring!!!

Friday, February 4, 2011


Dear Neighbors,

I really want to apologize for all the times you have seen me in the driveway in pajamas, with mismatched shoes, braless, with hair Medusa would have rejected...Herbie is full out 3.5 (a touchpoints phase) with all the power struggles that go with that, so while he loves to ride the mini-bus to preschool that doesn't mean he will cooperate in the time leading up to the bus.  Hence, the run out to the bus in whatever I can could be worse however, as I sleep in the nude...

I also really want to apologize for holding up cars while on a walk because Herbie has gone anvil, laying in the middle of the street, due to his rejection of whatever I just requested.  I don't know how that skinny little kid can suddenly weigh 400 pounds on command.

Oh yes, and I also feel bad about our dogs showing up at your houses with their sad faces and sucked-in cheeks leaving you to conclude that only a treat will save them from extinction...they've worked hard on that look. And sorry about the smell...despite eating the most expensive dog food on the market, they still emit a blue vapor from their backsides that will peel the paint off the walls.  God Forbid you let them in...let us know when you want us to repaint for you.  We keep them in a fully fenced yard, with an additional "invisible fence", however, Herbie likes to force his way out of any sliver of an open door and in the rush to catch the monkey, out go the dogs at the speed of light.

And if I don't invite you over that often, please don't take it my car, there is that "dead possum making wine" smell in our house and we can't find the cause.  Oh, and our furniture bears witness to every bit of food and drink Herbie has ever had in the living room.  It's like the food version of Bobby Sands cell on our couch. 

Finally, we'd like to thank all the villagers for not showing up at our house with torches.

Monday, January 31, 2011


Recently, Herbie handed me his milk and said he didn't want it because "it was too drinky".   Later, he handed me his food and said he didn't want it because "it was too yummy".   His next meal was "too chewy".   Yesterday he didn't want his drink from the refrigerator because "it was too frigy".  Then he wanted the radio off because "it was too songy". 

Wouldn't it be nice if adults could use the same form of logic?  I don't want to get the mail, "it's too billy"...I don't want to go to the dentist, "it's too drilly"....I don't want to exercise, it's "too sweaty"....I don't want to go to work, "it's too worky".   We need the reverse "Big"!!   I keep looking for the magic Zoltan but no luck so far...

Hence, if we employed Herbie's logic we'd just end up homeless, toothless, (more) out of shape, unemployed and people would avoid us because we spend our time looking for the real version of a movie prop...

Friday, January 21, 2011


As always in our household, there is something that we can't find.  Since every flat surface in our home is the landing place for every bit of crap created by mankind, this is not surprising.  However, Herbie makes that seem like, well, child's play.

Herbie has a might even be his favorite game...the "Put Stuff in a Bizarre, Obscure, Baffling Place and Wait for the Tall People to Frakin' Find It".  To wit, I found my Bluetooth earpiece in the air-conditioner, breath mints/pens/matchbox cars inside the AMP's acoustic guitar, socks in glasses of water, my cell phone in a cup of coffee, a tube of toothpaste in the toilet, shoes in the (full) dog water bowl, tater-tots in the treadmill...really, the list is endless. 

The "Finding of the Glasses" takes a skillset that rivals the hunt for Hoffa, the tracking of DB Cooper, the search for Charlie Sheen's dignity and self-respect.  It is a Defcon 4, Orange Level Security crisis in our house.  Since we finally found his first pair buried in the ash of the fireplace, (after buying a new pair) Herbie has set the bar high.  We now know it takes a lot of creativity on our part to match his skills.  When "normal" people look for something, they check coat pockets, the car, a nightstand.  If we can't find something, we automatically look first in the bag of dog food, the flowerbeds, all the shoes and inside the AMP's acoustic guitar---the favorite repository for, in addition to the aforementioned, meatballs, play-dough, and loose change.

Sunday, January 16, 2011


We feel so bad for our little Herbie...last week he fell and broke his collarbone so we went to the ER for about 5 hours...a couple of days later he developed a fever...and vomiting...then came the croup. 

He's incredibly miserable...only sleeping about 3 hours at a time (that should read "he and I are only sleeping about 3 hours at a time"), and is keeping us on a 5 inch leash, so to speak. For example, the AMP went to the bathroom this morning and Herbie laid on the floor outside the door and repeatedly said  "Daddy are you in there?", even though Daddy was answering him, everytime.  (I pointed out to the AMP that Herbie never waits outside the door for me, he just busts open the door gunslinger style).  

A friend of mine called and asked if we needed anything...after thinking it over, my answer was "vodka". 

Friday, January 14, 2011


Herbie the Love Bug is such a delightful little man--he makes me laugh more than any supposedly funny movie I've ever seen.  And sweet, boy is he sweet and loving.  And helpful, so helpful. Sometimes it's little stuff like picking up something I've dropped, or getting a plastic container out of a drawer, helping to move laundry from the washer to the dryer...such a love, such a great helper.

On the other hand, Herbie also has a speciality we call "helpiness".  Because he's only 3, he understands generalities well, but nuances, not so much.    He knows that clean laundry in the laundry basket needs to be emptied...the part he doesn't get is, into drawers or closets.  So while the dryer is going for another batch, he finds a waiting laundry basket in the laundry with clean folded clothes...laundry baskets are supposed to be emptied, so out onto the floor goes all the clean clothes.  Oh, and laundry baskets are also supposed to be filled with dirty clothes for the laundry, so in goes clothes on the floor...any clothes he can sorted dirty clothes on the floor gets mixed with the clean clothes he just emptied...then he takes them out again and puts them in again...then repeats that process until either Daddy or I find him...concerned because he was being too quiet...(Herbie is quite the ninja when he wants to be)   Once we find his helpiness, all the clothes have to be washed again.  Helpiness. 

Helping:  picking up his toys
Helpiness:  picking up his toys and redistributing them behind us while Daddy and I pick up before company comes

Helping:  carrying the car keys while we shop
Helpiness:  putting the car keys on a random shelf somewhere in the Trader Joes while we shop

Helping:  handing us a remote just when we need it
Helpiness:  hauling the remote around the house and leaving it somewhere that makes sense to him (shoe, toilet, fireplace, flowerbed) after randoming pushing buttons until he changed the TV language to Swahili

Yes, sometimes it is incredibly frustrating...and most of the time, it is incredibly hilarious...I'm going to miss these days when I'm old and this rate, that should take about a week.

Sunday, January 9, 2011


All of a sudden Herbie has turned into "Don Logan" (Ben Kingsley's character in the movie "Sexy Beast" a movie Herbie has never seen, of course)!  It's all  "yes, yes, yes" or "no, no, no" depending on what we are saying  ("do it, do it, do the job, do it").   So, if Herbie asks for Sprout TV at bedtime and I say "no" he says "yes", I say "no" again and he says "yes", etc..  Another variation on the that theme goes like this:  "Mommy, please put on the TV", "no honey, you've had enough TV today", "Mommy, put on the TV", me: "I said no, honey", Herbie: "put on the tv, put on the tv, put on the tv, put on the tv, put on the tv, put on the tv", said while I try not to laugh because all I can hear is "Don Logan" saying "do it, do the job, do it, do it, do it, do the job, yes, yes, yes you will, yes..."

Today Herbie asked if he could have water, I said yes, HE SAID "NO"...this was something he wanted but because I said "yes", he said "no"!!  

So now we use reverse psychology...this morning we said, "oh you don't want any breakfast do you"?  And there he comes running to the table.  "You don't want to play, do you'' and he starts playing...we'll see how long that works...

Wednesday, January 5, 2011


Egads, Fireman Sam is back!  I thought we were free of this heinousness (is that a word?) in favor of a different, albeit annoying show, Caillou...but no, now we have the Unholy Alliance of Fireman Sam, Caillou, a cold, wet day and a sick Herbie.  Holy Cow, I'm developing a facial tic...

I was almost off the hook...Herbie wanted "Cars"...Yes!  Of course, could I find the DVD?  H E Double Toothpicks no I could not!  Have I turned the house upside down trying to find it?  Oh H E Double Toothpicks yes I have!  I even checked to see if it streams on Netflix or is On Demand with, of course not because it's all part of the Unholy Alliance!!  I was getting ready to put Herbie in the car so we could go rent it when the dreaded words came forth from my beautiful little torturer..."Mommy, can I have Fireman Sam On Demand, please?" 

Well, at least he's polite...

You may be wondering why I allow this torture to go on...well, clearly I am a softhearted idiot...

So here I sit wondering if, when Norman goes into the water on his go-cart, does Sam hesitate, even a little...maybe he walks just a bit slower?  If he doesn't then he's a better man that I am...

Really waiting for Darwinism to come to that's an episode I would enjoy!

Saturday, January 1, 2011


Happy New Year!!  Thank you to all the people who stopped by in 2010 and I look forward to 2011! 

As is typical for this time of year, I've been reflecting on life and I'd like to share...some things will be funny, some not, which is unfortunate for a humor blog...

First off, I am very grateful for the life lessons I have received by the act of being a parent.  For me, the biggest lesson has been letting go of future-tripping.  I have always been a Professional Future-Tripper, much to my detriment.  Herbie is curing me of that!!  Whew, it makes life so much easier when I don't live the next 30 years all at once.

Why does coffee keep me awake at night but not during the day?

I have learned to live with the chaos created by a 3 year old...but I'm still having trouble living with the chaos created by tired, forgetful, disorganized, absent-minded parents!  Why can't I ever find shoes, coats, keys???

If technology was supposed to make our lives easier, then why do I spend SO MUCH time looking for a remote! 

Who keeps giving our son caffeine and amphetamines at bedtime?  A child that was nearly comatose moments before getting into bed suddenly turns into the Tasmanian Devil.  I'm going to find that Speed Fairy and it won't be pretty...

Laundry multiplies on it's own while sitting on the laundry room floor, fair warning!

Yesterday Herbie handed me his milk and said he didn't want it because it was "too drinky".  I had no idea how funny and entertaining kids could be until I had one.

Which brings me to one final thought:  I am so very grateful for the laughs, joy, love, cuddles and silliness that comes with having a is so much better than it was before!

Tuesday, December 21, 2010


Here's a helpful idea from some dear friends of ours...the names have been withheld to protect the innocent...or guilty...
When you have a toddler and every night is your own personal March of Bataan, continuously putting them back in their bed, try this: make a drinking game! Everytime you have to put Little Cutie Pie back in bed, you have to take a shot---set it up in the hallway or outside their bedroom door somewhere to save time! Pretty soon, you won't care about the March, you may even hope for more miles...

Happy Holidays!

Sunday, December 12, 2010


I never thought there would be a children's show that would make me clench my jaw and grind my teeth as badly as Fireman Sam---a show that makes imbeciles weep...then Cailllou came into our lives.  Now let me point out that Cailllou is better than Fireman Sam in some ways:  the voices aren't as nails on a chalkboard bad, the parenting isn't horrendous (aside from a lack of requiring manners like please and thank you), and there is considerably less moronic buffoonery.   The Narrator's style gets olds quickly but it's better than many.  So what is the problem? 


Imagine a 1970's era television laugh track with the laughs in all the wrong places...laughs that sound like they were made at gunpoint...completely joyless, fake laughter made by adults trying to sound like kids and thrown in at random points for no reason!!   It is just horrendous! 

And forgive me but why is Caillou the only person in the show that looks like he's suffering from Leukemia?   Furthermore, between a name like that and his unfortunate early-onset male pattern baldness, when he's older he is SO going to get his ass handed to him on the playground...

Now to be fair and not sound like a killjoy, there are shows that I enjoy watching with Herbie:

1.  Shaun the Sheep  (glorious)

2.  Curious George  (cartoon, not movie)

3. Clifford the Big Red Dog

4.  Arthur (even though I don't understand...are they Mice?  Bears?  Cats?)

5.  Driver Dan's Story Train

6.  Sesame Street (old school only!!)

Oh, I've got to go, I hear the call of the Lovely Little Tyrant (LLT, for short)...he wants to watch Caillou...

And the clenching begins...

Monday, December 6, 2010


A friend of mine recently told me that all her husband wants for Christmas is a clean car. We both laughed uproariously at that idea!! We both have toddlers...a clean car??? Even if that feat was managed, it would stay that way for what, maybe 4 minutes? Honestly, the crap in my car is the least of my's the smell that's getting to me. My car smells like decomposition and fermenting fruit. Like a dead possum is making wine.

I wish that possum would hurry up and finish, I could use a drink...

Wednesday, November 24, 2010


We have some dear friends that will soon be having their first child...for as long as we've known them they have been urban baby experience. So I've been fluttering around them like a Mama bird trying to make sure they have what they need for at least the first month after their much loved, beautiful bundle of Armageddon arrives and demolishes their previous life. We were chatting the other day about supplies and she assured me they are set...then I asked how many diapers they have on hand...she said "a package of 39" (39? 39...not 40...39...what diaper genius came up with that?) I laughed and said "okay, well that will get you through the first 3 days or so ". The magnitude of her response rattled the portholes in the Space Station:
"WHAT????!!!!" "ARE YOU KIDDING ME???!!!" My friend was shocked to discover that newborns need changing about every 2 hours...
Hence, I didn't have the heart to tell her about:
POONAMI'S...I didn't think now was the time to tell her about the poo's so voluminous that they take out everything in missle range: all clothing being worn by all persons nearby including socks and shoes, plus (when applicable) the car, the carseat, the changing table, bed, furniture and several villages in it's wake. No horror movie can match the power of the Poonami. And if the Poonami is accompanied by eruptions from Mt. St. Hurlins...then you are just done...walk away and let your home become a new SuperFund site.
I'll wait until the baby arrives and she is so in love that she'll think it's a cute story...besides, they rent.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010


I was at a toddler birthday party recently and the Mother handed out gift bags to the kids...let me correct myself, the Mother handed out Swag Bags for the Oscars. If it hadn't already been the end of the party, the rest of us were going to create a diversion so we could make off with the loot. Afterwards, the other Moms discussed how we couldn't possibly reciprocate the invitation because we couldn't afford to match the gift bag!! And FFS it was expected...
This is a phenomenon I had not previously experienced. When I was a kid, the fun thing the guests got at a birthday party was CAKE! And ICE CREAM! And maybe a bit of CANDY if your parents were hip and had a pinata. Then we kids would run around, play games and try to avoid the little bastardo that was trying to bash each of us with the pinata stick.
Somewhere in the ensuing years some hellish shrew, some mistress of satan, decided that we needed to bribe children to come to sugar and playing with other kids aren't the best bribes to a kid. No, now we had to go out and buy crap that no kid or parent really wants or needs, and have it grow and multiply in our already Fibber McGee'd households...or spend a fortune on a Swag Bag that isn't really for the kids but for the other parents to see how generous, boastful, loaded, bankrupt, (insecure, surely) these parents happen to be.
It is time to end this ridiculous practice!!!
Wouldn't it be nice to take something off the to-do list? To take something out of the budget? To take one worry about being good enough off the plate?

Tuesday, November 9, 2010


I relish the end of summer...I hate mosquitoes, sweating, sunburns, ice cream...okay, I love ice cream, just not my ice cream butt, thighs, belly--okay, imagine the Michelin Man on a 90 degree's not pretty.
One other nice bonus: closed windows. Our little man, Herbie, has hit that age where his tantrums are earth-shattering and glass breaking with high-pitched screaming, right on the edge of "only dogs can hear". The Absent-Minded Professor and I have been worried about the neighbors calling CPS saying we are setting our son on fire everyday...many times a day, really. Frankly, I wouldn't know how to find that much accelerant.

Saturday, November 6, 2010


Where we live, it's on the edge of winter, yet I'm wearing sandals outside. As my toes get cold and wet and pick up slimy leaf debris and frak knows what else, I start thinking it's time to get the dog poop off my regular shoes. Yes, that is why I'm wearing sandals...I've had dog poop on my normal shoes for several weeks now and I haven't been able to do anything about it. It's not that I don't know what to do, I just can't seem to find the time.
It's a domino effect, see. In order to get the dog poop off, I need an outdoor hose--which the AMP has already put away. So I'd need to find the key to the shed and if by some miracle I do locate said item, then I'd need to find the hooky-bob quick release which, naturally, won't be in missile range of the hose in the shed. Therefore, I'd have to search high and low, hither and yon, in every logical place and every illogical place (the freezer?) for the thingamajig...or I could remove the whatever thing the hooky-bob hooks into...oh wait, that's right, we got the whatever thing and the thingamajig because we can't seem to get the hose to screw onto the faucet...
Now back to looking for the the process I would notice that Chewie and Numbnuts have turned the laundry on the floor of the laundry room into new beds...oh yeah, I haven't gotten caught up on the laundry either. While searching the garage for the thingy, I would see the unsold/un-donated baby stuff...and the junk that has fallen and/or been thrown out of my car onto the floor of the garage...and crud, the freezer needs defrosting...hey, where is that ice cream...yes, there it why did I come in here again? Man, I need a nap...
Or, I could put on my sandals and go buy new normal shoes...and more ice cream.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010


Apparently, my son is in Witness Protection. I do not know when this happened or how. I didn't sleep through it because I'm not allowed to sleep without authorization from Herbie...and he requires a written request, in triplicate and notarized, at least six months in advance of when I might need the sleep. So, I'm guessing I either fell into a coma, or had a missing time experience from an alien abduction. In any case, while I was "away", the papers were signed and the deal was done.  Here's my proof:

This was Halloween...and every time we readied the camera, this is what we got...

I don't know why a 3 year old would need the WP program...he knows "they" are skimming crayons? He saw a serial nose-picker? He's discovered a raisin mini-box black market?
I am baffled by this sudden shyness. He used to be great about having his picture taken...I took about a 1,100 pictures before he hit his first birthday!
Wait, is that it?? Has he only recently recovered from the retina damage?