Friday, October 29, 2010

Long Live the Queen!

Okay, people, I may have been a douche-bag mom yesterday, but today I more than made up for it.  I was the most kick-ass, totally non-douchey, uber-housewife IN THE UNIVERSE!

Here is everything I did today, in poem form:

Made lunch and breakfast, walked kid to school with dog.
Emptied dishwasher and cleaned kitchen in order to make,
Banana Bread.  But not before I
Stripped the bed to wash the sheets
And ran the Roomba in the bedroom.
While banana bread baked, I made ten small batches
of walnut pesto.  10 small batches because I don't have a
Food processor, only a mini-prep.
Then, I cleaned up after the banana bread and pesto, and decided to make a second loaf of
Banana bread, for a dear friend who lost her dearest dog, and if anyone deserves some lovin' from the oven,
Its her.
Then I made cookie dough, and put in the fridge to chill.
Then my mom took me to lunch, which I totally deserved because I was rocking the free world.
I picked up my offspring from school, and took her to piano lessons.
We came home and rolled out, cookie-cut and baked three dozen sugar cookies in the shapes of ghosts and pumpkins.
We made icing and decorated them.
Then my parents came over for a martini and to see the awesome black widow costume I made for Leila.  I truly am a wonder.
I cleaned the kitchen, put clean sheets on the bed.
Then I made a big bowl of flavorless geletin that will feel like guts at the third grade Halloween party tomorrow.

Now I am in my pajamas, about to pour a well-deserved bucket of wine, dig in to some Halloween candy, and watch some thing mindless on TV, while patting my self on the back, tooting my own horn and singing my own praises.

Tomorrow, I'll probably do something douchey again, but for now I am The Queen.

Thank you, and goodnight.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Am I a Douche Bag?

This is what happened tonight.  I think I should feel like a douche bag about it, but I don't.

Leila borrowed what's called a Newton's Cradle from a friend today.  It is supposed to look like this:
Kids seem to like to borrow crap from each other.  Before we left her friend's house, the thing got all tangled up, and I diligently and calmly untangled it.  So far, not a douche bag.  When we left, Leila forgot it on the table and I thought, oh good, she forgot about that thing.  One less piece of crap in my house.  Then she remembered, and ran back in and got it.  Shit.

So, of course, what happens next is that she effs around with it in the back of the car, and it gets all tangled up again.  Let me also add here that I don't feel very well, I have very limited patience, most of which has been used to untangle this stupid thing the first time, and the rest wandering around Joanne's fabrics looking for something that I don't even know the name of, to finish off her black widow costume.

We get home, and I am sitting at my desk trying to get the thing untangled.  I have pulled over my touch light so I can see better, but my hand keeps hitting the light and turning it off.  Then as I'm working, the whole shebang falls off the desk and any progress I have made is reversed and the thing looks like hell again.  Cue the boiling blood.  I am trying to tell Leila that she shouldn't borrow stuff like this.  That she should look at something cool in someone's house, and leave it where it is.  That when you borrow something, you are responsible for it, and I really don't feel like having to be responsible for other kids' crap.  Cue the impulse to throw the wretched thing across the room.

Finally, I give up.  It now looks like this:

Its either the Newton's Cradle or what's left of my sanity, and I choose me.  I tell Leila that she will just have to buy her friend a new one.  Now Leila is crying and saying I should never touch things like this!  I'm so horrible!  I hate myself!  Now here come the douchey part, but I still don't feel that douchey about it.  I say to her, "Don't say another word like that, because I don't have the energy or patience to make you feel better about yourself right now."

So she goes into her room to lick her wounds and do what she always does when I'm the meanest mom in the world: make a sign that says KEEP OUT!  with red marker.  That's how I know she really means it.  Then I make her come back out and feed the animals and have dinner, and while she's eating I try to lighten things up by lecturing her again, but in a funnier way, about how people's crap should just stay in there own house, and her crap should stay in our house, and that everyone should just hang on to their own crap and not borrow anyone else' crap.  At first she's laughing, but then she starts crying again, and accuses me of calling all her stuff crap.  Well, most of her stuff is crap, especially that Shaggy figurine from her Scooby Do action figure set that I had to glue the arm back on today, but I go on to explain that I am crabby enough that I am just swapping the word crap for the word stuff and she shouldn't take it personally.

Now she's reading on the couch, and I just realized I haven't had any wine!

So am I douche bag or not?  I think not.  I think its good for kids to see the whole spectrum of human emotion, and boy did I put on a show for her tonight...

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

I have a number of issues

Does anyone else hear voices while they are blow drying their hair, or is it only me?  I swear, I have to turn off the dryer several times during my coiffure because I am sure the phone is ringing or someone is leaving a message on my answering machine.  Do you think this is a problem?

Speaking of messages, I would really like it if all candidates, voters groups, PACs, and involved citizens would please STOP CALLING THIS HOUSE!  I get very excited when my phone rings, like its someone actually wanting to talk to me, or take me to lunch or something, and lately all it is political garbage.  Never mind about the junk mail.  None of these politicians can claim to be concerned about the environment with all the mailers they send out. 

I have a cold.  I thought I had narrowly avoided the whole cold thing after the sore throat I had the other day, but it came on like gang busters last night, and now I'm a kleenex-using machine.

I really don't have the energy for this today.  When you're a (bored) housewife, taking a day off really puts you behind.  I wouldn't think it would, given that I feel like I don't do a whole heck of a lot in a day, but if I take a day off, things start piling up.  Suddenly, there's no milk.  Suddenly, I need to make a halloween costume.  Animals are out of food, and no one has any underpants.  It was A DAY, PEOPLE! I have a bunch of basil to make pesto, but the last thing I want to do in this world is go to the store and buy pine nuts.  Jeez.

Sorry, I'm a little all over the place.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Soup's On!

We had rain all weekend, and you know how much I love that.  Today, though, its sunny again, dammit, but I made butternut squash soup anyway.  Leila is home sick, and I'm not feeling that great either, so I really wish it were still raining.  I've been pretty productive today, for me, and in spite of not feeling well. I've done some laundry, made soup, dyed my moms hair, and I plan to make banana bread and read some of my book club book.  I'm just so awesome. 

I came to a realization that I feel the need to share, mostly because nothing really interesting has happened in the last few days and I have nothing else to write about.  You know how I've been saying that I haven't cooked a good dinner in a long while, and we eat a lot out of the frozen food section of Trader Joes?  Well, delicious though that may be, I think I figured something out.  I don't like to cook summer foods like salads and bar b que and recipes that say "serve immediately."  Those are things you have to make at 5 in the evening, and why would I want to get off my ass, put down my wine, have my kid like a schnauzer around my ankles, and do work?  I like to cook winter foods, like soups and stews and hearty things like that.  I have more energy in the morning, not to mention some freakin' peace and quiet, so I make these wintery foods at around 9 a.m. and they sit and meld and are delicious by dinner time, and I look like a super star.  I do like my man to come home to a house that smells like cooking, and serve him up a hot meal, but not if I have to start at 5 and then clean up afterward.  Fuck that noise.  No sir.

So now that its getting colder, and the rainy season has started, I think I'll be doing a lot more cooking.  Sorry, Trader Joes, you wont be seeing me at least until this phase has passed and I need your delectable pulled pork. 

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Today is The Day!!

I'm gonna kick some ass today.  I'm gonna kick some ass, and take some names.  I'm gonna kick some ass, take some names, and do some laundry. 

I have been sitting around this house like an old, tired dog all week, and it shows.  There's crap everywhere you look, dishes, full hampers, cat hair etc. and it has to stop.  Rob also pointed out to me that he eats his breakfast from a box (instant oatmeal at work) his lunch from a box (frozen lunch from Safeway) and often his dinner comes from a box as well (Thanks, Trader Joes!)  Now, don't I feel like a douche bag?  I can't promise I'll make a fresh dinner tonight (that freezer is pretty full of boxes right now) but I have committed to not touching this computer, not talking on the phone, and not being sidelined until this place is cleaned up.  Its shameful.

Rob also wanted me to point out that the other night he came home from work and I was exhausted, so he made dinner and did the dishes.  He thinks he is unfairly characterized in this blog.  I know many of you probably think so, too, but he isn't  I went through all the posts with "Rob" in the subject, and at least a third of them are glowing, another third are neutral, and only one little third is crazy, bitching lunacy.  I think that perfectly sums up most marriages, don't you?

I'm off!  To kick some ass!  Take some names!  Blah Blah etc. etc...

Monday, October 18, 2010

Weekend Recap

Let's see... So the weekend...  Do you ever have those weekends when you know you did some stuff, but for a million dollars you couldn't say what?  That's the kind of weekend I had.  I know I ate a delicious enchilada, but that's about all.

Here's something, though.  I hang around this house all week doing stuff.  Admittedly not as much as I should be doing, if the pink mildew in the shower tiles in any indication, but I do stuff.  On Fridays, I try to make sure the basics are done; laundry, shopping, picking up, so we don't have to spend any time on the weekends doing these things.  I sometimes fail at this, but sometimes I don't.  On the weekends, I want to have a weekend, where I lay around, or we do stuff as a family.  I want a break from my normal routine.  On Sunday, Rob got a wild hair up his ass about how he wanted to "get stuff done" and I was supposed to hop to and participate.  I finally had to say, If you are feeling like getting stuff done, you go right ahead, but I feel like lounging around and having a weekend.  I'm glad he's motivated to get things done, but I couldn't tell you what he got done.  I know he was scurrying around here, but heck if I know what he was doing.  I have a whole list of stuff I want him to do, and I know he didn't do any of those things.  I cleaned out the coat closet and cleaned out all the magazines from under the coffee table.  Mission accomplished. Nap time.

And another thing!  Whilst cleaning out the coat closet, I found two coats in good condition to donate to the coat drive this winter, so I went to get a paper bag from under the kitchen sink and.... there weren't any.  I had at least three good shopping bags under there, with handles, and they're gone because Rob decided to throw them out.  So the coats I washed in preparation for donation are on the floor.  Why does he mess with my workplace in this way???  I gave him the whole, I don't come to your office and decided what goes and what stays! speech, and he countered with But this is my home! and that may be true, but DON'T TOUCH MY BAGS!  He can have full dominion over the coffee, and the garbage, and the recycling, and I'll even let him be in charge of the shower tiles, but don't touch my stuff!  This is like when I went searching high and low for the garlic press only to find out that he had thrown it out.  Who throws out a garlic press? We have an espresso machine that has made exactly 5 lattés in the last 14 years, but, by all means, throw out the garlic press.

I love a good rant on a Monday!

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Am I Normal?

I helped a friend clean out her closet today... (tangent: this is a sick little fetish I have.  Show me a messy closet, and my adrenaline starts pumping and I just want to jump in and clean it out.  I want to bring bags of stuff to goodwill, I want to organize things by color, I get a little amped about it. Its a little unsettling) ... and I realized something:  I have no clothes.

The more closets I see, the more I realize that I may not be entirely normal when it comes to clothes.  Exhibit A) When I really need a pair of jeans (and right now I have two pair that are patched nine ways from Sunday, and I do not feel like I need a pair of jeans) I go out and suffer through the trying-on process and hopefully, if I'm lucky, walk away with one pair of jeans.  I then wear that very pair of jeans every single day until I wear holes in them.  This can take about three to six months (thanks, Gap.)  If I liked the jeans in the first place (not always the case, sometimes I just buy some to get it over with and hate them the whole time) I will cut up a pair of Leila's old jeans and patch up the holes.  I have a pair right now with four or five patches on them.  As I write this, I am getting more and more depressed. 

It turns out, women seem to have more than one pair of jeans.  They have lots of them.  And they don't wear out in six months because A) they don't wear the same pair every day and B) they wear things besides jeans, like white pants, or skirts, or work out clothes.  Huh.  Work-Out Clothes is a whole category I don't even have.  I have two categories: clothes, and pajamas.  End of list.

Exhibit B: Right now, I am feeling especially fancy because I have three bras in rotation.  They were on sale, so I bought the same one in three colors.  Normally, I have one bra that I wear every day.  Every.  Single.  Day.  When I need to wash it, I stay home, and when the underwire finally cries uncle, I go to Macy's and find a new one.  If the underwear drawers of my friends are any indication, this is also not normal. 

There are a couple of things at work here: 1: I am not a size small, or even medium, so shopping is not a fun day out for me.  Its an excruciating exercise in self loathing and humiliation.  2) My house is small enough that I don't have room for 15 bras and a dozen pair of jeans.  I don't even want to think about what the pile at the end of my bed would look like if I did.  3) Since I don't like shopping in the first place, shopping for bargains is an even bigger pain in the ass.  I find that if you really want some good deals, you have to shop on a regular basis, and that is about the last thing in the world that I want to do.  I go shopping about four times a year, buy two to three items, squeeze myself into them and go on with my life.

So what do you think?  Do I sound normal to you?  Should I clean out my boring t-shirts and patched up jeans and do a little shopping?  Should I bite the bullet?  Checks can be made out to Bored Housewife...

Friday, October 8, 2010


My mom caught an episode of the Kardashians last night.  My dad was watching a baseball play off game, so she turned on the TV in another room and surfed around until she stumbled on the Kardashians.  She was horrified.  She didn't realize it was a "reality" show, and when she found out this was a real "family", she was double horrified.  I thought for a moment that I had found in her someone with whom I could share my sick little love of the Kardashians, and maybe even pull her into Tori and Dean, but, sadly, no.  She was too grossed out, and changed the channel to watch a rerun of Larry King.  I have to hack in to her Netflix again and fill up her queue.

I am partying like a rock start tonight.  I'm going to drink and eat my weight in hors d'oeuvres and walk home.  Except that right now I feel nauseous.  It could be that I ate nothing but Lucky Charms yesterday.  I made a yummy healthy smoothie today, but I still feel like I'm going to puke.  I'd better not be pregnant.  I will be seriously crabby if that happens.  I have a friend who got pregnant accidentally, and when she found out, all she could say was, "I am so annoyed!"  Fast forward a few years, and now she has an adorable three year-old boy and she's annoyed for completely different reasons.

Can you tell I really don't have much to write about today?  I have a busy weekend ahead and I hope I don't burp through the whole thing like I am right now.  Ciao.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Shoe Blues

Leila told me this morning that she wanted to go shoe shopping after school.  This is significant because you have never met a little girl who is less particular about what she wears.  Every now and then she gets a wild hair up her ass about a certain skirt or something, but I pick out what she will wear every day, and lay it out on her bed.  When I ask her to do it herself, she puts on the same purple dress that is too small and looks like a nightgown.  I am sick to death of that dress, but Leila seems to be too lazy to put on anything that requires more than two steps: Step 1) put on underpants. Step 2) put on dress.  Done.  Shoes are for wimps.

She decided she wanted new shoes, and after going through all her shoes and noticing that she's grown out of most of them, I agreed.  We took grandma and her checkbook along, and went shopping.  Skip to the part where we've been to five stores, and have found nothing that Leila likes, or that fits, or that is the right color. The girl is walking back to the car, crying.  This was not the crying of a spoiled brat, though.  This was the crying of a little girl who was heart broken about not finding any shoes, was tired and thirsty and just wanted to go home.  I totally sympathized with her.  This describes almost every shoe shopping trip I've ever been on, which is why I wear flip flops every day.

I talked her in to making one more stop.  Nordstrom.  In the meantime, she decided she didn't't want "school" shoes anymore, she wants boots; knee high brown or black boots.  This is not exactly what grandma and I had in mind, but we were both so relieved when she found a pair of black boots, in her size, that fit, and didn't cost a year of college, that we bought them.   Now everyone is happy, even though I still think she needs "school" shoes.

Nordstrom was like an oasis after all those other crappy stores.  No one helps you with the shoes at those places, and there isn't even a place to sit down and try them on, let alone someone to measure your feet.  Leila was sitting on the floor wedged between two racks of clothes, trying on boots that were attached to eachother with a rubber band!  The Macy's doesn't even sell kids shoes.  What is wrong with the world today?  How about, Don't sell shoes if you don't have a place to sit down and try them on?  How about, Shoes made of plastic are not allowed to cost $85?  How about that?  Honestly.

So her first foray into self initiated shoe shopping ended happily, but some hard lessons were learned.  Shoe shopping sucks, and that's all there is to it.  When we got home she said, "I think I'm getting a mybrain headache..."

Monday, October 4, 2010

No Way, José!

A woman I barely know recently told me this story: She had two kids, the second one conceived through numerous IVF attempts.  She has the second kid, goes on the pill, all is well.  She is almost out of pills, so goes to the gyno to get a new prescription, gyno says, "You're pregnant.  With twins."  Gyno sends her directly to the hospital, because her pregnancy is considered high risk because she's been on the pill the whole time.  She gets a battery of ultrasounds, inside and out, and the gyno was wrong.  Its not twins.  Its triplets.  I swear to God.  True story.  How do you think that call to the husband went?  I'll tell you: she calls hubby from the hospital and says, "Guess where I am:"  SHE WAS ON THE PILL, PEOPLE!  And, if her attempt at a second kid was any indication, INFERTILE!

Well, I  also failed to have a second baby, after two years and more money than I care to think about, and I am on the pill, so I got to thinking: What if I found out I was pregnant?

At first I was excited.  Maybe I would have a little boy!  Whee!  Then I started to think about where this child and all his stuff (and kids have tons of stuff) would go, and I couldn't even get my arms around the heaven and earth that would have to move in order to make room for a baby in this house.  So I skipped past that part, and started doing simple math.  If I had a baby in the next year, Leila would be nine years older than this baby.  When the new baby turned nine, Leila would be leaving for college.  Leila would have been an only child for the first nine years, and the new baby would be an only child for the second nine years.  I would be in the same school district for 16 years.  The minute the first one was getting out of 8th grade, the second one would be starting kindergarten and I would have to do all this bullshit all over again (except that I would be working full time to pay for the addition to my house.) When Leila starts college, I'll be almost 50; when baby starts college, I'll be almost 60...   I got rid of almost all my baby stuff, and I doubt I could get someone to throw me a shower.  My friends are so over the baby stuff by now.  There probably wouldn't even be any hand-me-downs left.  I'd be screwed!  I'd have to re-buy car seats and strollers and baby bjorns and crib sheets and clothes, and ugh!

It was then that I began to stress.  I keep asking Rob if we would go ahead and have that vasectomy anyway, even though the chances are so remote, and he says he's not worried about it.  He says if I miraculously get pregnant, the kid is seriously meant to be, and so be it.  I still vote vasectomy.

I just had a chilling thought!  What if I got pregnant with triplets??!!  I can't even go there in my mind!  I think I'm going to have to lie down.  Vasectomy.  That's all I can think about now.  Vasectomy.  Vasectomy.  You know my fortieth birthday is coming up! That could be a good gift! Vasectomy!  The gift of reassurance that I wont have to spend my retirement savings on bibs and a breast pump and visits to the pediatrician!

Nope.  We are a one kid family.  For now and forever.  Unless...  Oh God, I can't even think about it...

Pretty cute though, huh?

Saturday, October 2, 2010

The Weird Dreams Continue

Last night I was in Tom Petty's entourage.  We went to a Mexican restaurant and were seated in a private room (because it was Tom Petty, and he had an ENTOURAGE.)  It was really boring, so I sneaked out to go for a walk...

Friday, October 1, 2010

Are You the Real Person, or the Vampire Version?

So last night I was being chased by vampires.  Not aggressively, but there were two of everyone, and one was the real person and one was the vampire version, and I had to use my cunning and wit not to fall prey to the wrong one.  Although, come to think of it, they looked more like zombies than vampires.  Anyway, the strange dreams continue, but I wont bore you further.

You know what I love about modern living? I love that I can turn the washer dial to Wash, turn the dryer dial to Start, press the Energy Saver button on the dishwasher, the Clean button on the roomba, and set the microwave to 15 seconds, and even though I'm sitting here chatting with you and eating room temperature leftover pizza (the best kind) I'm also doing a bunch of housework.  Isn't that awesome?  I feel like I'm working hard and being productive, but really I'm just pressing a series of buttons.  I'm like Mrs. Jetson!  Now I just need that five-armed robot that will go clean the shower tiles.  You know, if such a thing existed, I would save up all my pin money and get me one of those. I need me more robots.

This afternoon, Leila is hosting a dance contest.  Every year or so, she comes up with some brilliant idea for some party she's going to have.  One year it was a playground party, where all her friends were going to come to the playground and play and have snacks, another year all her friends were going to come and sing together.  These never happened.  I totally shined them on.  She didn't realize all the work I would have to do, and that all the other girls might not know or care to sing her favorite songs with her, so I just put them off until they fell off the edge of her memory.  So now we have the dance contest for which she has made ribbons and a big sign that took her all afternoon.  I feel badly enough about totally flaking on her other parties, that this one is going forward.  I have picked up the house, I have bought snacks, I have chilled wine for the moms.  Cover your ears if you don't like Lady GaGa and let the dancing begin!

The heatwave is mercifully over, and here is what happens
when you leave your candles out in the heat. 

Have a great weekend!