Gliddy glub gloopy Nibby nabby noopy La la la lo lo…
I’m not a morning person. I’m a mommy, you know what I mean? Still. My husband Garth (not his real name) couldn’t care less if I woke up, tomorrow, decided to shave my head and start referring to myself as:
“Hello, my name is Starshine and I AM Mr. Clean’s bitch!”
I’m telling you, as weird as it sounds, he’d STILL think I’m sexy.
Why?
Because, my husband is really NOT all that interested in what’s going on with my head – yes, he is a very smart man – but, he HAS sung praises of his love for me…from the neck down…many, many times.
Last month, I was asked by the lovely Jill Asher (co-founder of Silicon Valley Moms Group) if I’d be interested in writing for an upcoming new sister site, for New Jersey mom bloggers.
“Hey, you know, I’m from Jersey!”
Well, yah…and DUH!
Today, I am thrilled to tell you that the site has officially launched and…GUESS WHAT…I even got to write the introduction:
My mom is still in the hospital, but she’s doing nicely – thank you for your kind thoughts – so, I was able to spend the last night of spring break with my kids. But, I was emotionally spent and way too tired to cook. So, when my kids asked my husband Garth (not his real name) if they could roast marshmallows, I told them that we were all out of marshmallows (stupid food shopping) but, suggested that perhaps they’d like to cook their hot dogs on the fire pit, instead.
[eyes go wide]
“For real?”
You see, 2 of my kids want to go camping…but, the other half don’t like bugs…and thanks to having given birth to all 4…my sciatica does’t do tents, very well…so, roughing-it seems a little too much work, if you ask me.
Still.
It warms my mommyblogging heart to get a chance to do something…anything…together and kicking back in our yard is perhaps the closest our family gets to, you know, going wild.
“Where’s Mini-me?”
[shrugs shoulders]
“She said she doesn’t like turkey dogs and is looking for something else to eat.”
[SLAM]
“Okay, I found some meat-wike-wooking-thing in the fweezer…I think it’s eat-uh-bow!”
It’s seems like my youngest daughter (she’s 6) can fend for herself and doesn’t have a problem playing “survivor girl,” thankyouvermuch!
[Please, clean off a chair and stay a while – subscribe to email updates or the RSS feed or – if you really, really like me – then Digg This, I’ll love you forever!]
My mom had double-knee replacement surgery, last year (yes, it’s just as icky as it sounds) and her and dad have had one medical challenge after another, since then.
Life goes like that, sometimes – beautiful one minute, filled with suckage the rest.
It’s okay, though. I sort of imagine life as a giant 50 foot female, all hopped up on too much caffeine and experiencing a bad hair day, and expect it will probably try to bite me in the ass, more than once.
Today, most especially, she is going to be a total BITCH!
I remember the one (and only) time I ever saw my father flat-out drunk.
It was New Years Day in 1978 (I was 14) and we were on our way home from spending the entire night celebrating at The Hungarian Club, but my twin brother and I had to help my mother carry our father to the car, insisting that he was just too "happy" to drive.
We carried him upstairs, sat him on the bed and tried hard NOT to burst out in a fit of giggles, as he tried to pull his turtleneck off his head and somehow managed to twist it into something resembling a straight jacket.
When Thing One was born, my husband and I couldn’t wait to bring her home and welcomed our new roles, as mother and father to our brand new baby daughter, celebrating each milestone of “firsts” with equal amounts of enthusiasm and trepidation.
Then, I became pregnant with Thing Two and – though, I couldn’t wait and called my husband, at work, and gave him the results of the pregnancy test, while in the middle of a meeting with a client – I soon started to worry whether or not I was ready to separate myself from being “the world” to Thing One and having to share, well, pretty much everything, from my toes up, with TWO babies!?!
Soon, my fears were put to rest and the mommy in me sort of just, you know, kicked into high gear and there seemed to be plenty of me to go around.
Until, they grew up and NOW my husband Garth (not his real name) and I combine our super parental powers and it takes every bit of that strength…NOT to bite their little heads off.
The Parent Bloggers Network is collaborating with Discovery Health to introduce their new docu-drama "Deliver Me" which follows
three women – best friends, working mothers and physicians – as they
balance delivering babies together in their OB/GYN practice with their
lives outside the delivery room.
Perhaps you’re like me – having given birth to what will probably be her last baby, 6 years ago – and asking yourself, what’s this have to do with me?
I am pleased to announce the birth of This Full House Kids – yep, we have added yet ANOTHER blog to our menu and I know what you’re thinking…yes, I DO…because, it’s probably the same thing that my husband, Garth (not his real name) is wondering and I ask myself, all the time, too.
There’s an interesting article in USA Today about how babies can cause “momnesia”, the mental fuzziness and memory lapses that set in shortly after childbirth.
The article goes on to give expert opinions on the subject and why some women would be reluctant to talk about their memory problems. One that hit home, for me, was for fear of
being judged poorly at work.
Uh-huh.
NOT just at work and It doesn’t go away, either. Still. If you’re wondering (or, worried) about the long-term effects of “momnesia,” don’t sweat it. Take it from me – nearly 15 years of working in the trenches – here are 13 reasons why I do NOT think you’re crazy.
