Category: Uncategorized

I don’t know if it’s me – okay, I’m fibbing – but, my kids have taken on an attitude, this year.

I know – just act surprised, m’kay.

Not the typical surly sort of suckage you’d expect from a child – shuddup! – but, they don’t seem to be asking for much, lately and this is the first year that the kids have NOT made a list for Santa!

I don’t know, if it’ll snow, let’s just have a cup of, "Are you kidding me!?!"

Of course, I’m happy – they’re actually seem to be happy with…um…whatever they get and I think I’ll buy them ALL a pony, damnit – but, I can’t help but feel a little bit surprised, as well.

Like, what do they REALLY want and are they going to like what Santa’s brought them?

I don’t know – since, I have NOT even started shopping, my own self, yet – but, I can tell you this:

Thirteen things you will NOT find under our tree on Christmas Eve:

1.  Wii game system:  WHO KNEW, kids would want it for Christmas?  Stupid Nintendo!

2.  PSP, or Playstation 3 for that matter:  Because, we GOT to eat.

3.  Hannah Montana concert tickets:  Unless, YOU want to send us some – I would liked to have seen Montana!

4.  Bratz – big eyes, big lips, these girls ARE scary looking:  The spokesdolls for Botox, I swear.

5.  Most anything on Oprah’s Favorite Things:  Cheese and rice, would it kill her to like something, say, under $25?!?!

6.  Loud toys:  Not if you EVER want to see your grandchildren, again!

7.  Victoria Secret:  Secret’s out, granny underwear IS in!

8.  Candy, chocolate coins and cookies for Santa:  Because, Doofus ate AND either pooped, or threw it ALL up, ALREADY!

9.  Gingerbread house:  See note above.   

10. Puke or poop:  Ditto.

11. Kids, sleeping:  Hahahahahahaha – as wired as they are, right now and you ARE kidding me, right – why bother going to bed, at all?

12. Mommy kissing Santa Claus:  No one can hold a candle to Garth (not his real name) besides,  I’ll be too busy…wrapping!

13. Any of you, my dearest blogging friends:  Not after reading this list, or at least numbers 8-10, anyway.

Only 12 more sleeps ’til Christmas – Holy Hannah Montana, seriously – if anyone needs me, I’ll be upstairs in the closet, buried knee deep with laundry and looking for my Christmas mojo!

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Garth (not his real name) and I met on a blind date – his oldest sister and I were friends and  he only agreed to take me out (ONCE) on a dare – 2 months later, he proposed, I accepted and my father jumped Garth (not his real name) and nearly consummated the union, himself, right their in the middle of the living room!

"Cheese and rice, I thought I was NEVER going to get rid of her!"

Nice.

Clearly, my parents were extremely happy – hell, my last boyfriend was a hockey player…10 years older and about 5 inches shorter than me…and used Elmer’s glue as hair mouse – and everyone in the family pretty much knew that my parents liked Garth (not his real name) more than, you know, me.

17 years, 4 kids, 4 cats, and 1 sock-eating doofus-type dog later, my parents insist that I should start taking better care of Garth (not his real name) as the man is about as worn out as…um…I am and they swear that he gets NO respect!

"Are you kidding me!?!?"

Okay, it’s not like I don’t know Garth (not his real name) feels a bit tied down at the moment – and not in a fun sort of way, either – I mean, I lived with the man long enough to know that…um…I am NOT the easy woman to live with.

Hey, I’m Hungarian – not to mention, a Gemini and the female half of fraternal twins – we ARE an emotional lot and Garth (not his real name) knew this from, like, right after he asked my father for his permission to marry me.

"Someone help me get Daddy off of Garth (not his real name) please!"

After 17 years, 4 kids….etc…etc…I can honestly say that – although, we’re both starting to show a little mileage and several weeks go by before we even get a chance to, you know, squeeze in a tune up  – there are certain things about daddy, that mommy knows best.

 

13 Words of Association for Garth (not his real name)

1.  Kisser:  luscious, suckable full lips such that Angelina Jolie would be, like, "Niiiiiiice!"

2.  Looker:  his eyes are a beautiful shade of green and sort of like the color of the ocean, after a storm.

3.  Humor:  slightly nutty, a bit Eddy Izzard-ish with a hint of Steven Wright.

4.  Coffeemaker:  a perfect pot every time and hands it to me, in the shower, every morning!

5.  Bugger:   kills spiders and other creepy crawlies, DEAD.

6.  Psychic Reader:  Knows when to hold ’em, knows when to fold ’em, knows when to walk away, and knows when to RUN!

7.  Healer:  I couldn’t have gotten through this week, without him!

8.  Believer:  balances work, play and a full plate of very cold pasta carbonara with the greatest of ease.

9.  Giver:  donated $$ to Thing Two’s girl scout bowl-a-thon, and walks around with holey shoes, because he is Father Christmas.

10. Dapper:  the man can work a suit!

11. Tougher:  than most men (even some women…who shall NOT be named…but, 9 of whom happen to work in his office) I know.

12. Whiskers:  hence, his blog-alias….Garth.

13. Fodder:  makes for great blog.

It’s things like these – little miscellaneous words of association that either rhyme, or end in "er" – that does a momma good ;o)

[Disclaimer:  the order in which items appear may change according to, and in keeping in line with, the author’s mood.]

Last week, I spoke of how much I used to hate Mondays and that – after years of taking quiet little moments for granted – it’s taken me some time to learn how to stop, drop and breath.

Today is NOT one of those times.

My Aunt Theresa – my mother’s only sister – has been suffering with diabetes ever since she gave birth to her second child at 20.

Theresa is also my Godmother, but has always treated me like a younger sister – she was 12 when I was born – and has been my mentor and one of my best friends for, well, ever since I can remember.

You see, Theresa and I have a lot in common – in more ways than one and some too painful to mention – and having been raised in a similar fashion, we both couldn’t wait to turn 18 and Theresa is the one who helped me develop my…ahem…rebellious streak.

We shared secrets and our clothes, I was her full-time babysitter and she got me into the hottest bars – sorry, Mom! – and when I got married, I was very honored to learn that she was more than happy to be my Matron of Honor.

Then, I grew up.

Garth (not his real name) and I both worked very long hours on Wall Street (yes, NYC) and once we saved up enough to buy a house and then started having children of our own, we sort of lost touch.

Oh, Theresa and I called each other and saw the families on holidays and such, but we both longed for  each other…of who we were…back in the day.

Today, Garth (not his real name) got home early – a few minutes ago, in fact – to tell me that my parents had called to let him know Theresa is in the hospital, AGAIN.

Her kidneys are failing – no biggie, just one more thing on a long list of suckage dealt to one of the strongest women I know –  but, this time, she’s refusing treatment and my parents thought it best if that I wasn’t home alone.

Actually, my cousin had to take the phone from my mother and fill Garth (not his real name) in on the details, so that he could "break the news" to me.

"How could she do this to her family and give up so easily?"

Garth thinks she’s being selfish.  I, however, believe the opposite to be true and think it would be too much to ask that, you know, she hang around any longer.

Theresa is 10 years younger than my mother and (at 55) she looks at least 20 years older than that!  Suckage will do that to a person.  Most of our family and friends know that Theresa is a survivor.  But, it seems that I am the only one in the family who does NOT expect, or even want her to fight, anymore and just let the poor woman go and give up, already!

"How could we ask her NOT to?"

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, or how in the world my mother and I are ever going to live without her  – not to mention, how in the hell we’re going to tell the children that, yes…one of their favorite people in the whole wide world IS probably going to die – for today, I’ve decided to just…let it go.

I mean, she IS still with us and the hubs and I are leaving for the hospital, as soon as the kids get home from school, today.

Sometimes, life sucks – SHIT, I’m so pissed right now – and people around us are hurting and there’s just nothing we can do about it.  Except, perhaps ask God that he, you know, step in, at anytime, really, if he feels like it and QUICKLY!

Nope, today is NOT a good day.

Jenna has been a long-time blogging friend and, whenever I visit Family Living; Hatfield Style, her strength and perseverance never ceases to amaze me.

Jenna’s about to give birth, too – seriously, like probably right about now – and, with Jenna’s help, her adorable son, Nick (he’s two and she’s tired) is going to make a terrific big brother!

The love she feels for her family shines through her writing and for this – and much, much more – I’m sending her a love byte.  Thanks for being such a good blogging friend!

Jenna, u-rock my socks!

——————————————————–

Looking for more Linky Love Bytes?

 

[Edited to add: Feel free to join in at anytime, we’re here every Tuesday, try the veal!  The Queen of the Dorks thanks you, Mister Linky!]

‘Nuf said!

[Note:  Cross-posted from here, but snagged from  Webelieveingirls.com and I DO believe that Mattel is on the right track, too!]

Last week, we had family over to help celebrate Thing One’s 14th birthday and Thing Two (she’s turning 12, next month…ugh!) was feeling a bit out of sorts…

…oh and just so you know, almost 12 is way worse than 13.

So, feeling somewhat exasperated my own self – note to self:  never, ever drink warm sangria, AGAIN – I willingly handed over the job of recording our happy little event and left her with very explicit instructions.

"Here, take the camera…leave the canolis…and go wild!"

Then, promptly forgot just how literal-minded these kids can get.

Oh, Holy Hannah Montana, just what in the name of all creatures great and small is going on here?

"Um…we just were…uh…sort of, you know, playing."

Apparently, they were bored (I know, just pretend to be surprised) and there wasn’t anything good on t.v. (800 bazillion channels, and all) and heaven forbid they disturb the cat.

"So, um…er…uh…oh, c’mon…it’s just a movie…yaaaaaah…that’s right…WE MADE A MOVIE!"

Oh, well – taking into consideration that I am a HUGE movie buff and have sort of a soft spot for independent film makers – that’s different, then.

"Okay, so show me."

So, without further adieu, it is my pleasure to present to you:

Crouching Brother, Hidden Maniac

Yes, he has my unicorn, but little does he know that it is also called…the pink sword of destiny!

Ha-hah – your feeble weapon does NOT scare me – unicorns are STUPID!

Oh…no…he…didn’t!

Hee-YAH!

YAH-HEE-HEE-YAH!

Pleeeeeeze, I beg of you…have mercy…I am your ONLY brother!

Aha-ha-ha-ha-ha-AH…the pink sword of destiny pities the fool with a faithful heart…but, next time, you might NOT be so lucky!

Stupid uni….

Morale of the story:  Never turn your back on kids – especially, those brandishing pink swords of destiny – lest, you miss the true nature of magical moments and they catch it all on film.

I wonder if John Lasseter, or Steven Spielberg got their start this way…or, do they even HAVE any sisters?

Because I am such a BIG fan of Shannon at Rocks in My Dryer – not to mention, taking the chance of actual winning some fabulous blog prizes – I’m playing along with a very Bloggy Giveaway!

Here’s how it works.

You leave a comment on this here blog post and I’m supposed pick one – on Friday, November 2nd by 5:00 p.m. – and giveaway something really, really pretty.

My parents just returned from a 5 week trip to Hungary and – in memory of the men, women and children who lost their lives during the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 – I am proudly giving away a beautiful handmade linen table runner, they brought back from my mother’s village of Mosonmagyarovar, Hungary.

It’s about 2 kids long, as shown by The Boy and Mini-Me…

…with folksy flowers typical of Eastern European needlepoint, as shown by Thing Two…

…and intricately crocheted edges, as shown by Thing One – yes, she still hates her hair!

This is going to be fun – some of my favorite bloggers are playing along, already – and I can’t think of a better of way of celebrating our family’s heritage, than giving a blogging friend something really, really pretty!

Remember, please leave a comment – by Friday (11/2) 5:00 p.m. – if you would like to take part in This Full House’s Fall Ya’ll Bloggy Giveaway and we’ll pick a winner on November 2nd!

Good luck!

Alas, poor Jack…I knew him…um…well, seems he couldn’t stand the heat and I don’t believe I’ve ever had a pumpkin actually…you know…melt.

Yes, I know, we probably carved him way too early and the bugs had a field day, feeding, mating and whatever bugs do inside of rotting vegetables!

Still.

"When are we getting another one?"

Um…let…me…think.

"Next year!"

[eyes go wide]

Honestly, I don’t remember my parents ever spending as much time (as I do) preparing for a holiday (I know…Halloween isn’t one, technically) except, maybe, like Christmas and even then, we were the last family to decorate, the tree didn’t go up until Christmas Eve!  Yet, things still seemed to work out somehow.

"Don’t worry…we still need to go out and find your Halloween costumes."

I know; I’m hoping to have good luck with that, too.

"Besides, the party’s not until Sunday!"

This year, I really do NOT feel like I have a lot of control with what’s happening anymore – especially, with my kids.

"I want to go trick-or-treating with So-and-So."

"I’m tired of being a Ha-whoa-ween witch and want to wook just wike Hannah Montana!"

"I want to be a Mutant Transforming Ninja Destroyer of all Things Great and Small!"

"I’ve decided I’m not going trick-or-treating, this year."

Even though she’s turning 14, next month, Thing One’s revelation threw me for a loop.

"Don’t worry, Momma…Thing Two can go with So-and-So, you can take the little ones to Grandma’s and I’ll stay home and give out the candy!"

Our nest is by no means empty – a bit full up and in dire need of a good disinfecting, actually – but, gone are the days when we would ALL dress up and go trick-or-treating, together!

So, I’m taking a lesson from my parents and just going with the flow.

"Fine…but, I am NOT giving up the ghosting!"

Because, I AM the grown up here.

Let’s play!

I created this blogging meme a couple of years ago and had a lot of fun with it. It’s time time we all tapped into our inner-child and go and ghost someone!

The rules are easy:

(1)  It’s your turn to "ghost" three other bloggers.

(2)  Stop by their blogs and leave a comment on their latest post saying, "You’ve Just Been Ghosted — Come Over and Grab A Puking Pumpkin!"

(3)  Copy and paste the puking pumpkin somewhere on your blog (either in a post or on your sidebar, perhaps) so that everyone can see that you have been "ghosted" and will NOT "ghost" you again.  This will also let you know who you can "ghost."

(4)  Feel free to link to this post (or a post of your own) for directions, grab the puking pumpkin and go "ghost" 3 bloggers on your sidebar (preferably, somewhere you haven’t commented in a while, or a blog you’ve NEVER commented on before and/or new to the blogosphere) and dont’ be afraid to share some linky love.

It will be fun to see how many "puking pumpkins" appear in the blogosphere by Halloween!

Okay?

I’ll start – my mother, punched your mother right in the nose, what color blood…no, wait…that’s not right – I’m going over to ghost 3 bloggers.  Look out, it may just be YOU!

Have fun!

As most of you know, by now – especially, if you’ve recently had the pleasure of spending an outrageous amount of time waiting in an airport, WITH ME – I’m not a very good airline traveler.

[burp]

Excuse me, but attending BlogHer ’07 was the first time I had boarded an airplane in 15 years and, thankfully, I was lucky enough to be seated next to a young couple (he was from Chicago and they were both moving back to her home, in Norway) who were kind enough to talk me up…through…and down the entire way.

[I would link to my post, where I blogged about it, but I can’t seem to get anyone to tell me just how in the heck to download them from the wpdatabase dump…as if, I have time…or, obtain the necessary degree(s)…to be able to convert .sql to .xml…DANGIT!]

Then, remember my trip to California, earlier this month?

[Which, I can link to…because, I decided to re-post all of October…before the dump, just in case…since, I am SUCH a dork!]

Where my plane was re-routed to Dulles and the naked dude?

[insert mental etcha-sketch, NOW!]

Well, I must be a magnet of misfortune – these things seem to happen to me…all…the…time – although, it could always have been worse and…now, that I think on it some more…a couple of scenarios come to mind.

Thirteen things about flying the friendly skies:

• Taking the last of a box of Dramamine and finding out that your flight’s been delayed, the recommended dose!

• Deciding to buy another box, ANYWAY…and realizing that you’re out of cash and you’ve lost your debit card!

• Feeling nauseous while waiting in a standing-room-only crowd of annoyed business travelers, suddenly remembering that you’re a bit claustrophobic, as well and hoping that you do NOT actually, throw up…OUTLOUD.

• Having your flight delayed, AGAIN, throwing your arms up in
  exasperation and then hitting the guy in the head, standing next to you.

• Fully admitting that you are an absolute klutz and then tripping over his suitcase, as an exclamation point!

• Boarding the plane, FINALLY, and realizing that not only are you…way…in…the…back…of…the…plane…AGAIN…but, the guy you just rammed with the umbrella (the one she insisted you take, btw) yep, he IS sitting next to you.

• Having your flight delayed – what, NOT again!?!? – and sitting on the plane for another two hours, on the ground!

• Skipping dinner, making fun of your MIL for suggesting that you go and buy a candy bar, just in case and then tearing into the rest of your spearmint gum, as if it were your last meal on earth…sorry, Mom…stupid United Airlines!

• Nearly losing your lunch…in your purse…but, finding your debit card.

• Not being able to find a way to remedy the nervous habit of yawning, nearly choking on your spit and then spitting your gum on the passenger sitting in front of you.

• And wondering who you’ll be sitting next to, in Hades, for NOT telling her.

• Arriving to your destination, FINALLY, with a splitting headache, and finding out that your driver is an excellent conversationalist!

• You realize that you can talk and chew gum, with your eyes closed…at the same time…while your driver politely carries ALL of your bags to the front door, thanks you for a pleasant trip and refuses to take a tip…thinking, perhaps you’re NOT such a dork, after all!

Yeah, I guess now you see why it could always have been worse….besides, you could have been traveling with me…stupid United Airlines!

Have you heard about Blog Day for the Mothers Act?

It’s a part of the BlogHers Act and a global issue that BlogHers would like to see addressed during the 2008 American Presidential election.

Today, I am proud to say that I support The Mothers Act and would like to tell you a little about what BlogHers (like me) are doing to help make a difference and do something good, for a change.  I mean, really.  In this day and age.  I can’t think of a reason why another mother should suffer from postpartum depression.

It’s real and it sucks to have to admit that I did not enjoy those first 6 months of being a mother – not like a lot of other mothers I knew, who swore that they did – each and every time.  Beyond all the apprehension and second-guessing, that goes with the territory.  I didn’t know what it was, really.  Just, that I didn’t feel.  Anything.  Except, maybe shame.  And kept it to myself.  I was a mother, after all.

I just did it.

Luckily, I had Garth (not his real name) to help me through the really rough patches and a very supportive family.  But, since I started blogging, it was plain to see that this is not always the case.  I was NOT the only one to suffer in silence.

Now my daughters will know better, too.

Power is knowledge and it’s high time we of the Internets banned together and blow-out the blogosphere with the biggest warm fuzzy, EVUH!

More about The Mothers Act:

The Moms Opportunity to Access Help,
Education, Research and Support for Postpartum Depression Act, or
MOTHERS Act (S. 1375),
will ensure that new mothers and their families are educated about
postpartum depression, screened for symptoms and provided with
essential services.  In addition, it will increase research into the
causes, diagnoses and treatments for postpartum depression.  The bill
is sponsored by Senators Menendez and Durbin.

More about postpartum depression from Katherine Stone:

"Postpartum depression is a serious and disabling condition that affects
up to 20 percent of new mothers — as much as 800,000 American women
each year.  Yet only 15 percent of these women will receive any
assessment or treatment.  Let me repeat.  With all we know and as smart
as we are, only 15% of 800,000 women will get diagnosed and treated.
That is so wrong on so many levels.  Women are not being diagnosed
because they’re not being educated and they’re not being screened.
Untreated, the consequences of maternal mood disorders range from
chronic, disabling depression to death.  The impact of untreated
maternal depression on infants/children ranges from behavioral and
learning disabilities to depression and, in the worst case scenarios,
death from infanticide."

More on what you can do to help:

1. Blog it on Blog Day for The MOTHERS Act tomorrow, Wednesday, October 24, 2007

2. Share your link at BlogHer

3. Proudly display the badge in this post stating you’re going to do the above.
4. CALL YOUR SENATORS AND ASK THEM TO SPONSOR AND SUPPORT THIS LEGISLATION!!!
5. Go to Postpartum Support International to get all the contact info you need.

Or, click here to find your United States Senator’s contact information and then all you need to do is say to the person who answers the phone:

"I’m calling because I want the Senator to vote for the MOTHERS
Act, Senate Bill 1375.  I vote and live in the Senator’s state."

That’s it – they’ll make a note of it, and
you’re done – it’s THAT easy and I’ll be damned to an eternity of inefficient appliances, if it won’t make you feel good.

Just DO it!