Really?

Must my 4 year old son be subjected to ass in a thong at Kohls!?
So, I was in a desperate search for a bra that keeps the girls where they need to be without spending $65 a pop on them so I drug the kiddos off to Kohls this morning. They have a large selection and always have crazy sales. So yes I know I am asking for it a bit by taking him into the undergarment department to begin with, but it's Kohls, not Pricilla’s after all. So you can imagine my surprise when in the main isle we come across a mannequin with a bra (which really was nothing more than pasties with dental floss) and a thong! Really? I am okay with, and would expect there would be mannequins in bras and underwear, and no I would not expect to see granny panties and a Just My Size 18 Hour bra in stark white, but I think this little get-up was more like something I would expect to see in a porno store. I was actually a little a gasp myself at what I was looking at even before I realize my son was also seeing it.
Oh, how did Rock Star react you want to know? Yeah. He promptly reached out and smacked that ass as he walked by it. Such a proud moment; so proud in fact the first thing I did was quickly look around so make sure no one saw it happen.
Now here is the thing. My son DOES NOT go around slapping asses. He has never seen a bare ass get slapped so what in creation would entice him to do this? Yes, the hubs often gives me a hot smack on the rear but would seeing that little bit of playful affection between parents lead a young boy to smack the bare ass of a mannequin? And why the naked one? There were mannequins all over the place in there; how did he know, or what made him respond to the naked assed one? Sigh.
Well, I did the good mommy thing and pretended like I didn’t see him do it and hoping against hope that by ignoring it, it will never happen again.

Supernova Kids

Do you ever have those moments where you sit and just watch your kids be? I swear there are times when I just can just see the radiant light of growth creativity exploding from inside them. Then, well…there are times when I sit back and think, “What the hell is going on in that kids head?” or worse yet, “That can’t be normal.” I mean, there are things that I understand are developmentally appropriate and there are things that have to be touched and even eaten for understanding. But then there are these things that happen…

-Two rolls of toilet paper in the bathroom sink, water turned on.
- Taking off shoes AND socks every freaking time we are in the car.
-Rolling onto the tummy with pro wrestler strength the second the poopy diaper is opened for changing.
-Bugger eating.
-Pulling out a toy that has JUST been put away even though it spent the better part of the day lying in the middle of the floor completely untouched.
-Watching the Beep-Beep Dot Com commercial with the movement of a coma patient.
-Claiming to be “awe-done!” with a meal then going DIRECTLY to the floor and eating the droppings before I can even hope of getting the vacuum. (BTW- I have learned to vacuum the floor and the baby BEFORE she is let loose.)

I am so freaking glad my kids make me laugh. Can you image having a child who never did anything weird?

WHAAAAAT am I doing?

I have a total love/hate relationship with connection technology. I despise the idea of being connected all the time via phones, texting, email, blogs, tweeting, Facebook, television, etc. At the same time, as a SAHM I do like the ability to reach out. Obviously I enjoy my blogging, but I also battle the idea that rather than enjoying and sitting with the small moments in life we spend them sharing with the masses. People who tweet as their children are being born for example blows my mind! Put the phone down and get present in your own life already! Trust me; I get the notion of sharing the funny interesting things and thoughts in a day. All of my family lives out of state and I love that I can keep in touch with them and the push of a button. I love that my kids get to talk to and have books read to them via skype with their godparents who live in NYC. I love that I can toss jokes with my cousin mid-day who lives in the woods of Wyoming and that I can get photos of my kids in front of grandparents in Michigan within minutes of taking them. It is wonderful to have the ability to stay connected with the people who I love that are far from me. But I have set some boundaries for myself (those of you who know me and have been reading for a while know I am all about the personal boundaries!) I dropped off of FB late last year because I was just spent on all the mindlessness of it. I had a growing list of friends and friend requests that I did not really know or quite frankly care about, and an endless list of friend request from people I really, really did not know that sat there just making me feel guilty. It was time and energy totally wasted. I decided rather than spending an hour surfing FB on info I didn’t care about I would spend the hour reaching out to people with whom I wanted to foster a healthy relationships. Great move. I have recently gotten back on FB, but again with the boundaries, I am only “friending” my first cousins. As you know I love these guys and gals and since we are so scattered about and all keep odd hours between kids, happening social lives, work and school, it is a great way to keep track of each other.
Okay….I think I am rambling and digressing a bit…lets see where was I going with this??? Oh yeah, I signed up for Twitter. WTF?!?! I hate the entire concept. I loathe the idea of telling the world that I am stoked that I just got eggs for 0.49 or getting excited that Ashton Kutcher just went to CVS. Seriously I do not care. So whaaaaat am I doing???? Well as you know I write a weekly column for The Grain Valley Pointe newspaper and they tweet about local stuff. I clicked on their home page and was reading some of their tweets and given my business here in town and that the hubs is on the P&R Board I figured it would be good stuff to know. So I signed up just to get the GV news. Of course though I am now feeling the pull to tweet something. WHY? It goes against everything I believe in and yet it is calling my name…tweet…tweet….tweet…..tweeeeeeettttt! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! For the love of all things good and pure, I will be strong and reject the urge.

Uh…just in case you want to check and make sure I do not start tweeting you can follow me @mamacomedy.

Monday’s 3 Quick 3’s

3 Things I think about when I watch TV…
1. Why do you think shouting at me will make we buy your product?
2. I hate you for making my children think Pop Tarts are healthy because they are made with “real fruit”.
3. When I ponder which brand of tampons to buy, I promise you I am not thinking about which one will best protect me while dancing in my stilettos and red flowy dress but rather which one will survive not having time to use a restroom for 9 ½ hours straight.

3 Things I love about myself…
1. My hands
2. My really, really loud obnoxious laugh
3. I am learning to avoid people and relationships that are void of trust and respect; and put the extra time and energy into people I can trust and respect.

3 Things that make my days a bit brighter
1. Coke-Cola (yeah, for the record – probably not giving it up)
2. My iPod
3. Art Supplies

I aspire to be …Dora?

When I was young I thought of being something great in life. You know an aerobics instructor, a department make-up counter lady, the next Tiffany or Debbie Gibson …you get the idea. But never, oh never did I think on any given day of my life my true aspiration would be to be Dora the *Freaking* Explorer. My kids, and yes I sorrowfully say kids as Itty Bitty is much aware of the mind grating “I’m a Maaaaaap!” song, are obsessed. So much so that Rock Star requests I play Diego and Dora with him daily. Multiple times a day in fact. I find it interesting that he continues to ask me being as I apparently suck at being the almighty Dora.
No Mooom! Not like that!” Argh! So here I am day in and day out try to be the best little Dora I can, only to achieve tremendous failure and have myself esteem shaken-again. I mean really, I already had to give up on being the next hot teen pop star, now this!? Life is so unfair.

Oh Dora, what a love –hate relationship we have evolved into.

Did you win?

For those of you who bet against me that I would not actually return the shit toys from target, you win.

Damn. It.

Toys Suck.

Warning: You are about to read lots of naughty words. Sorry Grandma.


So the hubs and I went to Target today to buy gifts for the kids. I am pretty restrictive when it comes to birthday and holiday gift giving where my family is concerned. As a family we are aggressively working to be more consumption conscious while teaching our children happiness, joy and entertainment do not need to come from things. That being said, we buy our children three gifts for Christmas: one small item for their stocking (plus fruit and nuts), one gift from us and one from Santa. The hubs and I no longer exchange gifts and I have a rule that you only get a gift from our family if we are celebrating together, I do not ship stuff. I will however send homemade gifts of the heart. So my point is…we have very little shopping to do. One quick trip to Target and we are done.

Well, I say Target but what I really mean is the mother-fucking toy shithole of the world. I wanted to get the kids some gentle quiet toys that would allow them to use their imaginations and not be reliant on batteries, lights and noise. No such fucking luck. Nothing. Nothing at all. I could not find anything that did not talk, light-up, blink, sing, or generally rot the small brains it is intended to entertain. Shit.

December 22 and I am a bust. Hmm…could this be the year we give up Santa and tell the kids our family gift will be a day of board games together??? Here I walk the thin line between beautiful, wholesome mommy who will broaden the minds of my children and mommy the crazy bitch who robs my babies of Christmas to serve my own belief system. Damn. Buy toys I must.

I caved, somewhat.

1. Sleds – actually happy with this one given we are supposed to be getting nailed with a snowstorm Christmas Eve.
2. Little People figurines and Schoolhouse – unfortunately plastic. Here love, have a little C-A-N-C-E-R with that toy…
3. Lightening McQueen GeoTrax System. Gag. Loud, batteries required and I guarantee you it will lose it’s luster within 3 days.

Not happy. Toys suck. I have already started knitting next year’s gifts.

UPDATE:

I wrote the above last night then forgot to post it. Today I went to Pottery Barn for Kids and was able to score some wonderful wooden toys for the Rock Star (a HUGE Pirate Ship with figurines) and a barn made of corduroy with fabric animals for Itty Bitty. Sigh. Feeling much better.

BTW – the other shit is getting returned.

I am dying to tell...

Keeping up with this whole Santa thing is exhausting. Rock Star is four and the questions are relentless. I am now having trouble keeping up with my own answers. We went to the Mayors Christmas tree lighting last week, where of course Santa arrived via a bus converted into a sled on wheels. Rock Star anxiously waited in line to see Santa but upon climbing onto his lap he immediately started nailing Santa with questions…

Why did you drive that bus?
Where are your Reindeer?
How do you fit all the presents on your sled? Because the world is big you know.
What is your house like?
Where are the elves?
Do you have lights on your house?

By this time Santa is clearly getting annoyed as Rock Star is not letting him get a word in and is being completely non-responsive to Santa’s questions, Have you been a good boy? and What do you want for Christmas? It was freaking hysterical, all the other children gladly hopped up and rattled off what they wanted, snap-snap a picture and they went excitedly on their way. Not my kid. No, no…my kid wants to debate Santa and pick the scab of practical reality.

As I am dragging Rock Star away, still shouting questions at Santa…and Santa completely trying to pretend my child isn’t still there, I found myself desperately trying to convince him how wonderful it was to see Santa. “Wasn’t that g-r-e-a-t!? Isn’t Santa nice? You really, really got to see him! How exciting!”

He wasn’t having any of it. He crawled into his sister stroller and under a blanket and just kept glaring with this total “that dude is full of bullshit” look on his face. Now, his belief in Santa hasn’t been shaken – he still believes. He just thinks Santa is a little off his rocker.

And here is my other issue: I hate teaching my kids that if you are good you get presents and if you are bad you don’t. I just think the association to a holiday about the gift of Christ and Gods love and grace which is ever present regardless of how “naughty” is way too much of a contradiction. Additionally, we work all year to teach our children to not be greedy and to consume less. As a family we are aggressively working toward simpler living…then here comes Christmas and wham! Stuff, stuff, and more stuff. Lists of “I wants” and believing that the mailman exists only to bring packages from out-of-town family. I am dry-heaving a little as I write this.

I am so close to telling. Oddly enough the only thing holding me back is the wrath I would most certainly endure from other parents when my child announces to their child that Santa isn’t real…ouch!

I Shalt Never...Well, Maybe Just This One Thing

I love to laugh at myself when I think of all the "My Children Will Never" comments I made before having them. I had quite a list:


My kids will never...
1. Eat at McDonalds before they are five
2. Watch TV before 4pm
3. Get away with a temper tantrum in public
4. Force me to bribe them with candy or toys
5. Regularly sleep with us simply because they want to (excluding illness or the unique kid stuff)

I could go on but I would start to get a Mommy complex.
I was reminded harshly of number 2 on my list this week when, while moving, we were without cable. I have had glamorous thoughts over the last year and have told mi prima I am pulling the TV plug about twice a month. I really, really planned to not order it when we move to the new house. But then....

well....lets just say I was humbled. I was also freaking tired! When Cable Guy finally plugged us in yesterday my actual words were; "Ah! Dora, my sweet little parenting partner! I have missed you!" I then looked at Rock Star and Itty Bitty and there they sat, like two little coma patients (with their eyes open) starring glazy eyed at the TV as if they had just walked out of The Little House on the Prairie having never seen the magic box before. And then it was given to me, as if it were a gift from above: Quiet. Stillness. Time.

Exhale....

Rock Star genuinely believes I have Super Powers. Oh little does he know I get them from the Spout PBS gods.

Diego, Red Sauce and Stinky Feet

So Rock Star has spent the entire day being Diego. He will only answer me if I call him by this name and has turned our home into a Rainforest. This is freaking exhausting. In addition to being Diego the Animal Rescuer, he has also decided that Itty Bitty shall be called Red Sauce. Don’t ask, I have no clue. All I know is he has called her “Red Sauce” ALL DAY and she finds it as hilarious as he does.

I however have spent my day trying to figure out how “Red Sauce” has such stinky feet! The child is 10 months old never wears shoes and rarely wears socks. So how is it possible that her feet smell like…well, like the hubs? My poor, poor baby girl. Now for all the typical things I begrudge about my body I have always taken comfort in my nice feet. They are a perfect size (7 to 7 ½) with great toenails and all my toes are just the right length (you know the second one is not longer than the big toe) So you can imagine my disappointment when Itty Bitty was pulled from my body and despite the drugs (intense c-section drugs!), the mucus and all the chatter about her hair, I notice she had the hubs feet. My sweet little…little, baby girl had these feet with an extra knuckle in each toe and a second toe almost double the size of the big toe. Ugh.

Okay, now before you chalk me up as the worst mother ever, I still love and kiss her little toes. Even though they are truly feet only a mother, (well and a father in our case) could love. BUT, the suckers stink! I just don’t get it. From head to ankle she has that sweet, perfect baby smell. Then, POW! Feet.

Maybe there is something to this Red Sauce thing. Don’t tomatoes get rid of skunk smell? Maybe we will have our first mother/daughter at-home pedi tonight, sponsored by Ragu’.