So Much To Blog About...

So little time. Maybe tomorrow I'll just do a quick hit list of some of the weekend highlights, which did include a stupid meal at Charlie Trotters that would have fed a family of four comfortably for probably six months! I kid you not. Envision wheelbarrows filled with 1,300 McDonald double cheeseburgers. Yes, it makes me sick to my stomach too to think about it.

More sometime later. I'm still trying to get over the guilt of wasting so much money on such a ... (I'm trying to search for a more accurate literary word, but the only one that comes to mind is STUPID) meal.

Chicken Salad Thoughts

I had lunch by myself yesterday, took out my notebook and this is what I wrote:

Stephanie. Just thought I could make you smile cuz you seem so sad. Take it to the Limit. Paradise. Do you clap in a sandwhich shop? Clapclapclap. What do peole wonder about when they see me sitting here alone. Does the mom next to me with the bratty daughter think I don't have kids and I have no clue? Ha. I do have a clue but I guarantee you I would not put up with my child throwing turkey onto the floor. And then I wonder if she is related to the girl playing the guitar and singing? This might be a fun place to hang out and write. I don't know this song. Oh, yeah, I do. First cut is the deepest. I feel weird eating alone, like everyone is watching me chew, watching me pick out the celery in my chicklen salad. Now what is this song? Who will save your soul? She's good. DD would like her. Sandwich is done. Time for a wax.

Thought for the Day:

Do you think Paris has ever even eaten a Happy Meal hamburger? My God, what do you think would happen to her if she actually ate that burger she's pimping in her new commercial?

Hubby's Home

Yes, I missed him, and he is a hungover fool right now--must have been a really rough conference, staying up until 4:30 a.m., networking! Although I missed him, I did enjoy sleeping in the whole bed by myself. I felt like Patrick the Starfish, sprawled all across the bed, and I even woke up sideways a couple times. Love sleeping like that. Anyway, he's home, and I did give him a 'welcome home' present, complete with nice undies. Now though, I'm going to yoga and wonder if I should change the undies, although at least when I do the downward dog, I will know I won't have to reach up to adjust them because they're right where they're supposed to be!
Winka-winka!

Not Lately Up for Blogging

...Or anything that has to do with the computer, internet, working, writing. Just blah on that whole spectrum.

Hubby is out of town for three nights and as I'm fighting with the kids to get them bathed tonight, I say a vocal prayer, full of angst, to God to please never make me a single mom. I seriously could not handle it and have so much respect for those who are raising their children alone, or those moms who have husbands that travel more than two or three times a year. God love ya!

Went to a Bikram Yoga class on Saturday and it kicked my butt! It's the kind of yoga where they turn the heat up in the room to 100 degrees, and you seriously melt in there, dripping and stinking up the whole room. I was getting nauseous from the smell of stinky sweat--it was like being in a man's locker room with a bunch of football players who have just finished their four quarters plus over time (not that I would know anything about being in a men's locker room after a football game, of course--wink, wink!)

Anyway, after I got rid of the headache after the ninety-minute sweatfest, I did feel pretty good. So good I had to take a two-hour nap later in the day. And then I had kid reprieve for the night and much of Sunday. But I did miss them, and was happy when they got home from their grandparents on Sunday afternoon.

So, not much is happening. Big weekend here. Going to Charlie Trotter's and downtown Chicago overnight on Friday. Looking forward to the dining experience but not so much the food. I would rather go to Maggiano's and do a family-style dinner where I can just gorge full of pasta and bread. But, I guess Charlie Trotter's is an experience that if one should get to do, one should get to go. I'm sure I'll be blogging about how disgusting the foie de gros crap is, which is really force-fed duck liver. Gag. And people call this a delicacy?

Oh, and I've got another trip to Brazil scheduled. It is summer time after all!

Kids Say The Darndest Things

Is that how you spell Darndest?

First, this a.m. Ajers was checking out his lunch box to see what I had made for him. I had inadvertently put a cocktail napkin in his lunch box -- one that had a drawing of a martini glass filled with a pink cosmo and garnished with a slice of lime. On the napkin, the phrase: CHEERS!

Had I seen it, I would have never put a napkin like that in his lunch to take to school.

Ajers asked Scott if he would replace the napkin for him with another. His comment to Scott: "This is inappropriate for me to take to school." A first-grader. Geeze.

And then, completely unrelated, but nonetheless, a cute curiousity from Diva. As we were sitting in my office together, she glanced over at some pictures of Scott and me. This must have reminded her that he and I were her parents and for the most part, in love, and this question sparked from her little mind:

"How come you never 'slobber kiss' with dad?"

Good question, Diva, good question. Have you ever heard of it called that? Gross.

Best Morning Moments...

... are when the little ones come padding out of their bedrooms, still drowsy from sleep and come to me and crawl onto my lap and I inhale their little sleepy smells, and bury my head into their hair; close my eyes and hug them tight, their little bodies all still warm from being snuggly in their beds all night, and we're just quiet and still and I can smell their little yucky breaths but it's not a yucky scent because they are my babies and it smells so good, and then I ask how much they love me and the answer from their little tired mouths are sixteen-fousand-ninety-ten, and I know they love me the most in their entire little world and I hope and pray they will love me that much forever and ever.

My Tukey

Tukey and I were cuddling on the couch and he decided to blow raspberries on my belly. We were cracking up. Then I said to him, "You are so cute. Do you know how cute you are?"

He lifted his eyebrows, grinned really big and said:

"Supuh Cute." In his little man voice. Oh, to bottle them up at this age!

Pancakes for Dinner

Invented a new type of pancake tonight and LOVED it. And note, Manic Mom is not a breakfast person, nor does she favor sweets over salty, but this treat ROCKED!

I made Hungry Jack pancakes (the type where you just add water, not oil and eggs). I poured the batter onto the griddle, then after it cooked a little while, I lightly spread a mixture of cream cheese and chocolate chips onto the top of the cooking pancake. After that, I added more pancake mix to the top so the cream cheese/chocolate chip mixture was tucked nicely inside, kind of like a stuffed pancake.

After that sucker cooked up nice and light brown, and a little crispy, I flipped it and the other side cooked. When it was all done, I put fat free cool whip on top and a ton of strawberries. So good! It made my mouth happy!

Manic Mom's 'Mazing Margaritas!

I guess I'm a little behind on the Cinco de Maya but here's the most awesome margarita recipe you could ever have. Feel free to share it on your blogs, tell all your friends this came from Manic Mom! Enjoy! (I did last night, and I plan on mixing some up tonight too!)

For one blended pitcher:

6 oz tequilla (and don't skimp on a cheap brand, and make sure it's gold color and not clear because I think they do make clear tequilla and it's yucky!)
2 oz triple sec
6 oz Minute Maid Limeade (the frozen can type--this equals 1/2 can)
1 tablespoon sugar (Very IMPORTANT!)
amaretto
ice
sliced lime for garnish

Mix tequilla, triple sec, Limeade and put into blender filled with ice. Add 1 tablespoon sugar. Blend until margarita-worthy consistency. Pour into glasses, add lime for garnish, and here's the top secret grand-finale addition:
pour a healthy shot of amaretto onto the top of the margarita.

One pitcher makes about four margaritas.

Have fun! And remember, tips #46 and #47 from Manic Mom: If partaking in these enjoyable libations, make sure to drink responsibly, and that does not mean drink until you pass out, or for those boy readers of Manic Mom (DD-I'm talking to you baby!): Don't drink so much that you think a chick who looks like a two at ten, suddenly becomes a ten at two!

Carrumba! (No idea what that means, but it sounds like the most logical Mexican/Spanish saying I know that conjures up "excitement," "enjoy," "go nuts," "have fun!")

You Gotta Love A Man Who Can Cry

Note to self, next time hubby is looking for some extra loving, give it to him.

He cried tonight.

When a man cries, doesn't it make you just want to love him more? Now, what kind of man can be man enough to show such a display of emotion, and in a public place no less? And, in a public place where there are about 94 first graders and a gym-full of parents, grandparents and siblings all watching the First Grade On The Right Track Program.

What a proud dad. Ajers was up on stage, singing about having a Gratitude Attitude, Respecting Others, Being Kind, offering Safety Tips, and my husband was so filled for love for his first-born that he was overcome with emotion and oops, how did that happen??? A few tears slid past those tear ducts and made themselves known to a community of first-graders and their families.

Okay, actually, I'm probably the only one who saw the tear slip out, but, again, I'm probably the only person who would have appreciated that one lone tear so much.

Yep, he's getting lucky next time he wants it, for sure! And damn, where is that new device I need someone to invent that I wrote about in the previous post. Well, hubby might just have to wait a couple days.

Can Somebody Invent This Please?

WARNING: This is a TMI post regarding the monthly occurrence of every woman.

If we can send a man to the moon, why can't somebody make monthly periods more bearable?!?!

If we can stick a plastic cylinder up our va-jiggities filled with cotton to collect the 'flow' why can't someone invent a device kind of like a turkey baster-slash-vacuum that we can just shove up there, collect the 'uterine lining' that is constantly building up and flowing down, month after month after agonizing month. We can just say, "Oops, I feel my period coming along. I'll just go get my trusty turkey-baster-slash-vacuum apparatus and get this thing over with."

Now, wouldn't that be a great invention?

Not Another Damn Tennis Ball

On my morning walk, I spotted one, and now every time I see a tennis ball, I'm going to think that my day will be a good one. Hope yours is! (Hell, hope mine is too!)

How Many Leaves Does One Get?

...Because it's Monday, and I'm turning over another!

Yep, I was so sick of the depression last week, I have decided THIS is going to be THE week! I have written down a lengthy list-of-things-to-do, with Ajers help yesterday, and this a.m., when he woke at 6:30, he came into my room and saw that I had already showered.

He said, "Mom, you weren't supposed to take your shower until 7:00!" So, see, already, I'm ahead of schedule! I even made him scrambled eggs this a.m. and helped him with some homework. It was some special time, I tell you!

So, this new leaf went power walking this a.m. with hand weights, and I've got my list of things to do today. Since Ajers helped me with the list, he said I needed to include some 'rest' time, God love him!

Things I'm going to work on to control:
My upper arms need some shaping.

My feet need some attention.

The lines around and under my eyes (big thanks to L for my Mom's Day gift of Loreal eye lines decrease cream -- such a good friend--she knows I would shudder at the thought of spending $17 for eye cream so she goes and buys me some to start the ball rolling!)

I am going to face each morning like I am waking up and getting ready to go to a real job, because that is what I'm doing, I'm working. I'm going to make myself get up, get my ass out there and walk, take a shower, feel good about myself, have nice days.

Quit goofing around on the computer.

FINISH NOVEL I SO DESPERATELY NEED TO AND WANT TO WRITE! (And then I'm going to reward myself by buying an iPod, learning to use it, and downloading a ton of great music onto it -- cuz that's what you do with an iPod, right? I've barely seen one up close!)

Make myself look nice each day, or at least semi-presentable, even with maybe more make-up than the usual lipstick.

Bed by 10:30 each night.

I hope this leaf stays around for a while. Oh, and no Starbucks until Friday, after I weigh in at Weight Watchers--that will be my reward for the week.

And Then There Are These Weird Things Too...

I used to have to sleep on the furthest side of the bed from the bedroom door, in case an intruder came in, they would get Scott first.

I have to check each child about six times before I go to bed to make sure they're still breathing (as they've gotten older, I've gotten better at refraining from this.

If I go pee before bed, then as soon as I get off the toilet, even if I think the word PEE, I will have to go and squeeze some more out, just because I thought about it and if I didn't go pee once more, I would get into bed and it would just drive me crazy thinking that I would have to get up again to pee. This one drives me freaking crazy!

Before my mother or I take a flight she and I both have to call one another but only on the departure flight, never necessary on the return. My mom will call me even if her flight's at 6 a.m. It's okay for me to turn off the phone so she can leave a message though... that still counts.

I save every voice mail Scott leaves me on the phone and either he can be the only one to delete them, or I can delete them ONLY if he is in my presence at the time of deletion. Same goes for voice mails from my mom, dad, or children. (Also, of course, I couldn't delete the voice mail Brooke Shields left on my phone when I was trying to get in touch with her for an interview!)

Scott and I have to kiss each other every time we take an escalator at the mall, airport, sporting event, wherever they have escalators.

I cannot/do not want to taste-test anything I am cooking to make sure it's done. I always have to have someone else taste it. Yes, I do want to eat it, but for some reason, testing a sauce, or a noodle, or a piece of chicken to make sure it's done just bothers me.

Scott and I "butter" each other before bed. Now, don't go getting any freaky ideas. We call toothpaste butter--as in, "did you butter me tonight?" When we are having an argument or if he (or I for that matter) has pissed me off (or I, him), refusal to butter opponent spouse just defines how mad we really are at one another.

I really don't have any problems using public bathrooms, but have become more of a germ-ophobic the older I get (I guess I just thought I would share that one because I do have a friend or two -- you know who you are! -- who refuse to use public bathrooms and freak out if I mention I am going to go poo in Walmart's facilities!)

I never leave the dryer on when I leave the house; this is more of a precautionary measure and not a habit of sorts. Our dryer is really old and it's going to kick it soon (very soon, I hope, so I can get a front-loader and washer!) and I'm afraid it is going to explode while I'm gone. Same thing for at night. I will not let it go when we are sleeping.

I am sure there are more OCD-ish things I do, but I'm stumped for now. What are your quirks?

Oh, by the way, Happy Mother's Day to those of you celebrating your children, or even if you are awaiting the dreams of a pregnancy. I wish you all much happiness! Because no matter how much I gripe and bitch about Diva, Ajers and Tukey, they are my complete reason for being. Simple as that. And yes, want to know what I asked for for Mother's Day? I bet I'm the only one who requested a front screen door! Now, if that ain't Manic, you better just go find yourself another Manic Mom to hang out with!!

And finally--I am now of Latino descent and being called Juanita by close family and friends for the colorist today was a little, how shall we say, "highlight happy" with my usual dark brown-reddish, okay, chestnutty locks. For some reason, I now look Hispanic. Adios, y Cumplanos de Madre, or something like that! : )

Ok, I'm Playing the Turd Poem Game

I was only too happy to contribute a poop poem on
DatingDummy

And I actually had this written a week ago, only to get "TURD TAGGED" from Brenda, which as soon as I can get the kids to bed, I'll link her and the three Bloggers I choose to "Turd Tag."...

Here it is, for your reading pleasure:

TURD in a punchbowl,
I have to write a poem-oh SHIT!
TURD in a punchbowl,
Forget this CRAP-I quit!

I wiped three butts, just today,
and was feeling less than fine.
Especially when I realized,
one wasn't mine!

(Couldn't quite stop
so here's the scoop,
I'm a Manic Mom who
deals with lots of POOP!)


So, here are the rules:

Simply compose a four-line poem (I went overboard) and post it on your blog. The first and third lines of the poem should read “Turd in a Punchbowl.” But here's where I'm going to deviate from the rules. Change it to Turd in a FISHBOWL. Lines two and four may be about any subject but they must rhyme with each other.

The addition: Then pass it on to three fine bloggers.

And with that, I'd like to tag the following people with this meme: TBContinued ...

It Must Not Have Been A Tennis Ball...

...Because my day completely sucked, and it ended with the following:

--me, coming to as close as I can imagine to having what a nervous breakdown feels like.
--hyperventilating while giving the kids a bath.
--three of the towels I just washed and dried fell into the tub, getting soaked.
--apologizing to my kids because I was a not-very-good mom yesterday (I hate to say BAD)
--having some scary swish, swish sounds whirlpooling around in my head, like extra blood in my brain trying to escape.
and finally, [never mind what I was going to admit here], asking Diva to put Tukey to bed, putting my scented eye-pillow over my eyes and letting Ajers fall asleep in my bed.

And then, I sweated all through the night, was hot, then cold, then hot again, and had dreams of snakes--there was an orange one that bit and was venomous, and there was a black one that wasn't a biter. I also dreamed of ex-boyfriends (two nights in a row), strangers, and wheelchairs. I woke to a massive sinus headache on my right side.

Any psychotherapists out there want to take a stab at what my problem is?

Tennis Balls

Have you ever played this mental mind game? I'm not even sure if maybe I'm the only psycho in the world that does this. For instance, these are some of the nutso things I think in my head:

When I was trying to get pregnant, I would think in my mind: If Scott didn't drink all the orange juice in the fridge, then I'll be pregnant this month.

If I drop the soap in the shower, then I'll have a crappy day, but then, after I drop it, if I accidentally drop it again, then the day turns good again.

If I get this damn eyebrow hair plucked out on the first try, then Diva will not be a brat today.

If I am able to poop before I go to weigh in at Weight Watchers, then the number on the scale will not be that bad.

So, after last night's whatever-you-want-to-call-it -- depression over not being organized, not having a routine, not being the perfect wife, mother, friend, sister, daughter, niece, lover, whatever I am at whatever time of day it is, I told Scott I wanted to work out a 'schedule' in which I go to bed at a normal hour (wow, there's a thought!) and try to get in some exercise in the morning, which I'm all about because I know it will make me feel better. So, I'm shooting for the 6 a.m. wake-up-and-walk call (I know, I know, I tried this like a week ago!), and then lights out by no later than 11, but preferably 10.

Digressing here. Back to my mind game, which I had to preface with the 6 a.m. thing because as I was walking this a.m., I walked by a house where two girls had been playing tennis yesterday. They had had a large bucket of tennis balls that they were hitting against the garage door and letting them fly across the street, over their house, onto the golf course behind their house. Everywhere.

So, this morning on my walk, I said to myself, If I see a tennis ball still lying around, then it'll be a good day.

I didn't see one.

But then, on my return route home, I hadn't been thinking about the tennis ball at all, I'm not sure what I was thinking about, but suddenly I was aware that I was right back in front of the tennis ball house, and just for the heck of it, I turned my head in the direction of their yard, and wouldn't ya know it, there was one lone fluorescent yellow-green ball hidden in the shrub that I couldn't have seen on my pass by the house previously.

Does this mean it's going to be a good day? I sure as heck hope so. I deserve one, darn it!

Hope your day is a good one too, and please leave me a comment if you also make up crazy mind games in your head too! I don't want to be the only one!

I'll Be Back Soon...

...As soon as I dig myself out of this hole of depression I have fallen into. Help! I've fallen, and I can't get up! And then, when I climb out, all grimy and slimy and stinking from the foul smell of my funky mood, I'll try to get my life and schedule organized and into a sensible routine. Then, I'll feel good again.

And yes, it is that time of the month.

Cyber Dieting

Charity and some of the other gals are starting a new Blog, and it's a good thing because I'm feeling like such a BLOB!
It's over at:
http://www.dietblogging.blogspot.com.

I'm too lazy to figure out the HTML so you'll just have to cut and paste to go to that site, that is, if you're up for a challenge!

I'll post, MAYBE, my current weight each week (scary, scary, very scary), and tell you what I eat each day, which will be loads of fun. Good thing I didn't start this diet journal yesterday because then I would have had to tell you I ate the French Toast Orgy at a great little place in Buck Town with some very great friends I used to work with! The French Toast Orgy was new to this virgin, and let me tell you...
It was French Toast stuffed with marscapone cheese, with fresh fruit, and yogurt and granola. Like a bomb exploded on your plate. Plus, I got some apple smoked bacon too... I ate the whole damn thing.

Hence, the need to diet blog!