Waiting on a Woman

I heard this song in the car for the first time today. Ok I'll give you a minute to listen to it, if you're not a country fan and haven't heard it already.

Back? Ok, so I'm sitting in the car and thinking ...hey I like this song...I wonder if my hubby has heard it...of course he has...I'm sure he knows all the damn lyrics already...how in the hell does he do that...I can't even remember my cell phone number...man I love Brad... I wish hubby had an old man to tell him that he shouldn't mind waiting on me...who am I kidding I wish I had Brad...I bet he'd wait for me without getting so pissy...Damn I love cowboys...I wonder if hubby would wear boots, if I bought him some... ooo maybe some kicker jeans... HAHA...ok no really, why do guys get so mad...if they're waiting, that means they're not helping, right?

So then I start thinking about men always complaining about waiting on women. It's total CRAP!!! You hear me guys!!! CRAP!!! Do you know why you guys are always waiting? Because women are the ones doing everything while, you are sitting your little rear ends on the bench waiting. So don't pat yourself on the backs so quickly for being good husbands and waiting patiently for us. Maybe if YOU would have called for reservations, balanced the budget to see if we have enough money, helped pack the diaper bag, cleaned up the kitchen, dressed the kids, feed the cat, turned off the T.V, turned on the alarm, and locked the doors, WE would have enough time to get dressed and not keep you waiting.

1950's Housewife Week

This week we had plumbing work done, so we were trapped housebound. Now for those of you who don't have the pleasure of knowing me in person, you must understand that being stuck at home is like... well I don't really know what it's like since I'm never home. Just the thought of it makes me want to pull my eyelashes out.

When I looked around, I realized that I was the only one who was stir crazy; the kids loved playing with .... hold on it's coming.... THEIR toys. What a novel idea. You mean I don't have to buy them new, super elaborate, not to mention expensive toys and run them all around town to playgroups and story time in order to entertain them? Damn!! Now what in the hell was I going to do? Well I decided to rewind the women's lib movement, put on my bra and apron and be a model housewife for the week. Just in case you haven't received the handbook, here's a copy.

Monday - Plumbers show up. I offer them sweet tea and chit chat for a bit. Wash, hang and fold two loads of laundry while the kids play in the yard. Hot breakfast, hot lunch and hot dinner. Stay up after everyone is in bed to prep for recipe club the next day.
Tuesday - Yup you read that right. Recipe club. Every time I tell someone I'm going to the recipe club I feel like I should put on some heels and bust out the jello mold. Anyways, I finish my curry chicken salad, and pack up the kids in the station wagonfor a good 'ole time. Come home and make a nice dinner for hubby.
Wednesday - More laundry on the line, kids left to their own mischief, and tea for the plumbers. Today was my day to make a meal for a mom that just had a baby. You know Moms helping moms. I made chicken tortilla soup and pack it up for a friendly neighbor visit. Come home in time to enjoy dinner with my family.
Thursday - Rained all day. Now in all the movies and books these 1950's housewives sent their kids outside to annoy the childless neighbors. Not ONCE do I remember seeing what they did on rainy days. So I improvised. They fought, cried and tore the house up. I cried, smoked (I couldn't get into character for this one, so I smoked out of their view), and put them in lots of time outs. Left overs for dinner.
Friday - I'm done with the 50's housewife thing. We HAD to get out. I left the water hose out in case the plumbers got thirsty, called my husband and told him we were going out for dinner and dropped the kids off at my mom's!

Things I love about my town

1. Just when it's been hot and dry enough to scorch my grass and crack my dirt, it pours for days. Floods the city, drowns my already dying grass, and fills the cracks all the way down under the foundation of my house.
2. I can still drive on the busiest freeway when my turn signals aren't working and I can't afford to fix them, because no one in this city uses their signals anyways.
3. It's so humid that the stunning, slim and single woman standing next to me now looks like the bride of Frankenstein. haahahahaa. See ponytails ARE more chic sometimes.
4. I'm no longer a minority. I mean, I AM, but I'm not.
5.....more to come

Big Girl Brag

A mom friend was recently telling us about her son, who is A's age, writing his name. So the next time A and I sat down to "write letters" and play school I asked her to write her name on her letter. We've been practicing our letters and with the help of LeapFrog and SuperWhy A can write her name!!! Yeah, I'm taking very little credit for this. My daughter is a genius a smart little girl and television is a wonderful babysitter.

Oh and I totally realize that you now know A's name, but I'm still going to be calling her A. oops

** I helped with Dad, but Allie is all her**

The secret revealed

You know those annoying mom's who always appear to have it together. Yeah I think I'm one of them, but wait! Before you roll your eyes right off my page, hear me out. Nothing is ever like it seems. I have major insomnia. MAJOR and it sucks! The only way I can keep from crawling out of my skin at night is to clean, or do little projects. Then when friends ask, "Oh my god, when do you find the time to do this stuff?" I just respond with a generic, "No, no, it's no big deal really. It takes no time at all," because I don't want to have to explain that I can't ever go to sleep until the wee hours of the morning and I yell alot am always grouchy. So there, now the three people who read thiswhole world knows my secret.

Fruits of last night's insomnia. ARRRRRRR

We are getting ready for A's Pirate Princess party. Easiest tutu in the world to make. REALLY!!!!

Dear Lord,

Church is the one hour a week you spend reflecting on how God's message of love has been incorporated into your life. We are supposed to focus on the teachings of the bible and with the help of the priest and his sermon, I'm supposed to learn how to live a good Catholic life and teach my children how to be good Catholic children. Sounds easy enough, right? Well throw in a two year old future talk show host and a one year old with the cry of a baby pterodactyl. Now we've got a whole congregation praying extra hard for the Lord to give them enough patience to not slip birth control into my coffee at the Meet and Greet after mass.
I figured out that mass with my kids was a joke very early on and I did what every sane Catholic mother does and put my kids in the free daycare provided by the church. Well, we hit panic mode today, when my husband walked back from the daycare room WITH the kids. Crap! How on God's green earth was I going to get two kids through a one hour mass??

Well I can't say we did it gracefully and not all of us made it, but we did get through the hour...

9:05a.m - Hubby shows up with kids in tote. Yeah mass does start at 9:00am.
9:07a.m. - We spot our family. Scoot ourselves through a pew and a half to get there all the while, M is waving to every person that has the pleasure of having my butt in their face and their feet crushed by my husband's size 11's. A is so excited to see her Mimi and Popo, you know because it's been 12 hours, that she shouts hello to my parents and my mother in law, then proceeds to tell them all of the wonderful things that happen in a two-year-old's life. You know, only the appropriate things for church like big poops.
9:15 a.m. - I think I heard the first reading. Maybe not. Kids spot the snacks in my purse. Pterodactyl boy screams and starts flapping his wings. I feed him.
9:16a.m. - Ahhh the minute of silence is over. A sees the snacks and wants some too. I give her a bag. She wants M's. I switch because M doesn't care and I want A to hush up. I know this won't work forever, but I'm going with it for now.
9:20 a.m. - Kids are still eating. woohoo. I'm so worried about them acting up that I can't even pay attention to the second reading when they ARE being quiet.
9:21 a.m. - Forget it I don't even know what he's talking about now. I start starring at the lady in front of me. She's pregnant with a little girl. Maybe 1 1/2. She's good. This lady has no clue how much harder two is.
9:25 a.m. - Yay we're singing. M is under the pew looking for the goldfish he dropped. I'm sure he's eating them off the floor. Don't care; he's quiet.
9:30 a.m. - Daddy is getting restless because A is crawling up and down the pew.
9:31a.m. - A's crying. Daddy takes her outside. DAMN I think he made her cry, just so he could leave.
9:38 a.m. - Collection basket is coming around. Damn I forgot to fill out the check. Martin tears out a page in the misselet. Damn! DAMN!! Write check out for $10 more that usual.
9:43 a.m. - My Dad takes M. I guess I look frazzled.
9:45 a.m. - More screeching. M is back with me.
9:49 a.m. - Little girl in front of me is acting up. YAY!
9:50 a.m. - Thank God, it time for the Eucharist. Mass is almost over.
9:51 a.m. - Walking back to my pew. See the wreckage from daycare being closed in many other faces.
9:52 a.m. - Pray.Peace. Forgiveness. M is hitting my head and laughing.
9:53a.m. - Daddy comes in and needs the keys. A had an accident.
9:57a.m. - Mass is over. Thinking about sneaking out before the Priests' procession. Stay and sing instead.
10:00am. - Walking out of the sanctuary. Douse M and me in holy water. Want to put some in his sippy.

So I have NO CLUE what today's mass was about, A and her daddy were only in church for 30 minutes and the only lesson I've passed on to my kids about church is that Mommy and Daddy will give them anything to be quiet including yummy snacks.

Peeping Crisa

When I was younger I would cruise the fancy neighborhoods at night just to catch a glimpse of the "perfect" people's lives. I know a little stalkerish but these people encompassed everything I thought was ideal at the time. Money, cars, huge homes, rich neighborhoods. Now that I'm an adult with a decent home, nice cars, nice neighborhood and overall a great life, I know better. There is no such thing as perfect or ideal, there is just life.
So, last night I was outside smoking looking at the stars and when I turned around I could see our perfect little kitchen and den through the window. If I were seventeen again peaking in through the window I would have seen what I thought was an ideal life.

Well I've kinda been in a slump. Happy. Sad. Mad. Confused. Sometimes my emotions get so jumbled up that I can't get them out. This is where I'm at right now. Since, my brain won't talk to my fingers and my mouth won't listen to my brain, I think it's best for me to read instead of write.

This past week I had two days like this and two like this! That evens out to me being a decent mom right?