That's a quote from MY Mom this week and I like it. I've been m.i.a. for a bit. I've decided October is maybe the busiest month ever. Everyone gets the Holiday fever and starts having gatherings and get togethers and birthday parties. For me at work - we're gearing up to lay in our biz for the next year and so it gets zany. Jeesh! And then there's this weird sense of 'omg' the crumbs in my silverware drawer are out of control and we need to have the sprinkler system blown out and how did the linen closet get to be such a disaster. It must be a seasonal disorder.
As a big topper - last Wednesday my four year old who hadn't been feeling well - passed out (or seized - still sorting out which) in my arms. Just writing that makes my belly clench up again. Talk about stress. I think that an ill child has got to rank on the stress o meter pretty close to the top.
On the upside, it's a great appetite killer. A visit from the paramedics (VERY NICE men by the way) and a trip to Children's. Still don't know exactly what happened. She could be a 'fainter'. (Which is a problem because my side of the family is good solid German stock as it my husband's and that kind of thing is really not allowed. Neither is whining, but that maybe is skipping a generation.)
It happened once before and we did the cardio work up - good there. So now a visit to a Neurologist. I know this is not life ending. And when we were at the ER and I saw them wheel in baby after baby on gurneys with tubes in their noses I thanked my lucky stars for what I do have. But then I had to be stressed for that Mom who I saw walking behind her baby, exhausted and bewildered and scared to death.
I asked my bff if I'm the only one who has crazy horrible scenarios running through my head a good portion of the time and was relieved to find out I'm not alone. I polled my brother (who thankfully was our chauffeur to the ER) and good to know that even males can and do go down that dark road in their heads sometimes. It's exhausting trying to hold it together so your little one doesn't see or hear the fear you feel. I worry about her all the time - and found myself obsessing over her sister wondering if she's okay too.
I remember my Mom telling me one summer night when I crept in kinda late after being out with friends (home from college for the summer) that she was really tired and she can't go to sleep until I'm home, so could I please be home earlier. I was bugged at the time. It's not MY problem that my Mom's a stress case and can't let go. But of course now I totally get it.
You have to P.I.T. (pull it together, a favorite little saying I picked up from a co worker) pretty much all the time. We're not allowed to be weak and you have to be ready to lift cars with brute strength and soothe fears and keep it all together. Being a Mom is NOT for Wimps.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
The Common Sense and Awareness Gene
I am confronted time and time again that many many people in this world are lacking the ability to understand their surroundings and see beyond their own tiny little narrative. You wonder, do I have an example of this? Why yes I do!
During my lunchtime today after dropping off a huge load of crap, I mean clothing and housewares in great shape, at Goodwill - I hit the car wash. (Scratch two items off of running list in my head.. sweet.) After the car wash I hit the open vacuum station and scrounge in my wallet and car for the pre requisite 4 quarters so I can use the big vacuum (which better have good suction, that's the whole reason I use these places!) Wa lah! Success.
I start up the machine and start vacuuming like mad because there's never 'just' enough time to get all the cheerios, muffin crumbs, mud, small dolly parts and free crapola fast food toys out of the back of the car. It's a beautiful day and I'm breaking a sweat racing between the front seat and the back seat when I hear 'EXCUSE ME MAM!' I look up from my vacuuming bewildered and on guard - trying to figure out WHO this guy is talking to me WHILE I'm vacuuming.
Apparently it is the painter from the building next door and he's wasting my precious vacuum time to ask me if I could move my car over to the next area because they have a big crane thing a ma jig coming and want to park where I am. ARE YOU SERIOUS?! I yell over the vacuum to him that I have about 20 seconds left and I will move my car shortly.
What was he thinking?? It's not like I was in the middle of a q-tip clean out of the little area between the seat and the drink holder (which needs to happen by the way). I wasn't throwing away garbage or rearranging the herd of rain boots and blankets in the way back. I was using my four - hard to find- quarters for 2 minutes of vacuum time. 2 MINUTES! Has he ever paid for a vacuum at the car wash? It will end. And it will end sooner than you wanted it to! Could you just not wait? So then I felt pressure to NOT use the whole two minutes when I saw the boom or the genie or whatever it was inching closer and closer to my car while being driven by a 15 year old.
And I drove away kind of mad and shaking my head. And that's no way to enjoy a beautiful fall lunch hour. Common sense my friends. Aware of your surroundings and how your actions impact others. (I'm still working on that mean face while grocery shopping thing....I can't help that concentration looks like annoyance - but I am AWARE of this!)
During my lunchtime today after dropping off a huge load of crap, I mean clothing and housewares in great shape, at Goodwill - I hit the car wash. (Scratch two items off of running list in my head.. sweet.) After the car wash I hit the open vacuum station and scrounge in my wallet and car for the pre requisite 4 quarters so I can use the big vacuum (which better have good suction, that's the whole reason I use these places!) Wa lah! Success.
I start up the machine and start vacuuming like mad because there's never 'just' enough time to get all the cheerios, muffin crumbs, mud, small dolly parts and free crapola fast food toys out of the back of the car. It's a beautiful day and I'm breaking a sweat racing between the front seat and the back seat when I hear 'EXCUSE ME MAM!' I look up from my vacuuming bewildered and on guard - trying to figure out WHO this guy is talking to me WHILE I'm vacuuming.
Apparently it is the painter from the building next door and he's wasting my precious vacuum time to ask me if I could move my car over to the next area because they have a big crane thing a ma jig coming and want to park where I am. ARE YOU SERIOUS?! I yell over the vacuum to him that I have about 20 seconds left and I will move my car shortly.
What was he thinking?? It's not like I was in the middle of a q-tip clean out of the little area between the seat and the drink holder (which needs to happen by the way). I wasn't throwing away garbage or rearranging the herd of rain boots and blankets in the way back. I was using my four - hard to find- quarters for 2 minutes of vacuum time. 2 MINUTES! Has he ever paid for a vacuum at the car wash? It will end. And it will end sooner than you wanted it to! Could you just not wait? So then I felt pressure to NOT use the whole two minutes when I saw the boom or the genie or whatever it was inching closer and closer to my car while being driven by a 15 year old.
And I drove away kind of mad and shaking my head. And that's no way to enjoy a beautiful fall lunch hour. Common sense my friends. Aware of your surroundings and how your actions impact others. (I'm still working on that mean face while grocery shopping thing....I can't help that concentration looks like annoyance - but I am AWARE of this!)
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Ad Relevance (Or How Does Your TV Know What You're In the Market For?)

I work in advertising and there is this theory called 'Ad Relevance'. Basically it's saying that if you're the market for a car, you'll pay attention to the car ads. Or if you can't get pregnant, all the commercials are for baby diapers and EPT sticks and it seems like a personal assault whenever you watch prime time TV. (Well that was my own interpretation of ad relevance.) Or Cable. Or that Little House on the Prairie Marathon. Not that I'd know anything about that.
Same seems to be true for radio songs. When I was younger and broken up with someone or some other thing (TLC's Creep anyone?) all the songs on the radio seem so really relate to what was going on in my life. Or so it seemed.
I've recently come to the conclusion that if you're searching for answers, support or whatever it is - everyone and every thing you interact with seem to have a 'message' for you.
My deal - I've said it before - is that I'm struggling with the working Mom thing. I race around trying to make up to my kids all the time I don't spend with them... and spend the rest of the time feeling guilty about one or another thing related to me only seeing them 3 hours of every day. Wow to write it like that really makes me feel like crap.
Kate's new school and the new set of obligations and the new routine have really brought my issues to the forefront. So whenever I spend time with one of my Mom friends, I tend to do a bit of an informal poll about their lives (grass is always greener, I know, I know..) trying out different scenarios in my head, wondering if a different one would fit me better.
Here are snippets of a few of the different conversations I've had and the messages I've gotten:
From my friend Gretchen who recently starting working contract work and took the summer off to be with her girls. We were discussing our older daughters and their behavior. I described our current situation with Kate's issues and she says emphatically (as only Gretchen can do.) She needs her Mom. Period. She needs her Mom. She needs your attention.
In and email from my husband's cousin (Pediatrician with the Navy who now stays home with her kids). Totally unsolicited, just her sign off at the end of the email: Enjoy your time with your girls while they are little-I miss reading to my girls-they read to themselves now, but sometimes they'll recommend a book to me and then we can talk about our favorite parts.
GREAT - now that hits home - because I like that part of our evening.
Visiting my college friend in Spokane last weekend. She works mostly from home, has three kids and is totally involved in their day to day activities and school stuff. She's got the identity of her business AND being a Mom. Is there a trial period for a life change? Maybe I could intern there for a day or two...
There are a few others - but this raises the question of the Ad Relevance theory; Do I KNOW the answer to what it is want to do on a gut level - and so I really only 'hear' these pieces that support it? Nothing is whispering to me as I leave the kids with the babysitter and head downtown for dinner and drinks with my LA sales guys..... except that I didn't say I couldn't go to dinner - I paid for a babysitter so I could. And wore cute jeans of course because I'm not JUST a Mom. Hmm... Is THAT a message?
So maybe I should start paying attention to the Lottery ads.... or the ads for new counter tops.....
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Driving WithYour Foot on the Dashboard. What IS That?
Today as I was heading up the hill from my workout at lunch (going back UP the hill after working out - sucks. Plus it makes me even more sweaty in the office. Sweet.) Some joker drives by me and hovers by a non existent parking spot for a minute or two - long enough for me to see his BARE FOOT on the dashboard.
Let me refresh - I cannot tolerate stupid people. (That's what my husband and I have in common sadly, but we try to hide it from the kids...) I cannot stand people who do stuff just for the sake of being blatantly different, because they think it makes them cool. It does not.
So back to toe man. What was he doing? Seriously? Why the hell would you need your left foot on the dashboard while you're driving. Your BARE foot I might add. It's not like he was disabled and had to use those cool controls with only his foot because he's lost the use of his hand. I'm pretty sure he wasn't raised by monkeys, but judging by the fact that it looked like he doesn't like showers, maybe I misread that one.
I secretly hope he has to make a really short stop and gives himself a bloody nose with his knee. Yes it's evil. You may ask what do I care what some guy in his own car does with his own foot. Because I don't like it. That's why. And it doesn't make sense. And I don't' like things that don't make sense. And he looked like some guy who thinks rules don't apply to him. And I don't like that either. Oh yeah and I don't like long toe nails.
Let me refresh - I cannot tolerate stupid people. (That's what my husband and I have in common sadly, but we try to hide it from the kids...) I cannot stand people who do stuff just for the sake of being blatantly different, because they think it makes them cool. It does not.
So back to toe man. What was he doing? Seriously? Why the hell would you need your left foot on the dashboard while you're driving. Your BARE foot I might add. It's not like he was disabled and had to use those cool controls with only his foot because he's lost the use of his hand. I'm pretty sure he wasn't raised by monkeys, but judging by the fact that it looked like he doesn't like showers, maybe I misread that one.
I secretly hope he has to make a really short stop and gives himself a bloody nose with his knee. Yes it's evil. You may ask what do I care what some guy in his own car does with his own foot. Because I don't like it. That's why. And it doesn't make sense. And I don't' like things that don't make sense. And he looked like some guy who thinks rules don't apply to him. And I don't like that either. Oh yeah and I don't like long toe nails.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Holy Diamond Ring Batman!

It's been a while - but I'm back.
I have this friend who is a girl - who is one of a kind. She's super super smart, extremely curious, well traveled and has a deep deep sense of family and tradition. And she's a hottie too. She's one of our core group of college girlfriends who have stayed in touch and who you know would be there for in a heartbeat, even if you haven't talked for 6 months.
She has been in a few long termish serious relationships and then dated not so long termish some not so prince charmings. She's not afraid to say out lout (to her girlfriends and maybe on the 3rd date to a guy) that she wants to be married. She wants to have tradition and commitment. She wants to create a family and adopt children. She's our scrapbooker and memory keeper. She has great keepsakes from her grandparents and her many travels. When I recently asked her for sand from one of her travels- she totally hooked me up - no questions asked. I keep a postcard from her on my bulletin board that she sent from a trip to the jungles of Borneo or somehwere that says "there is some woman on this safari who has a LV purse with her. Who does that -brings a LV purse into the jungle?" Love it!
And she is obsessed with Princess Di. This is not a joke - this is for real. She loves the idea of 'fairy tale' but is not unrealistic or crazy and no she does not have cats. However, last week during a beautiful trip to Greece with her boyfriend (who is currently living in Toronto but is finally moving to Seattle) he got down on one knee in front of an incredible 11th century Byzantine church overlooking the Mediterranean Ocean and asked her to marry him.
Fairy tales ARE still real. And so are big fat diamond rings and I'm not ashamed to say I'm really impressed (and kind of in awe - did you see the size of that thing?)
Congrats Princess Celena!
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
The Crock Pot; Not Just for Grandmas
So about 6 months ago my bff turned me on to the crock pot. I had one.. might have registered for it when we got married I'm not exactly sure... but I had one. It was dusty and never used except maybe to make those yummy meatballs for a football party - if we had friends who came over to watch football....
So now that bff gave me the super simple idea for making chicken that I could use for tacos, salads etc.. I am totally sold. The crock pot rocks! Was i just late to the crock pot club and everyone still uses them? This pot of crockery has made my dinner time life - fabulous! I've even started trading crock pot recipes with my co workers! And now I have crock pot envy and want the crock pot on a timer - because as it stands right now - I just pray that my crock pot does not catch my house on fire while I'm at work. (However I have one of those nosey neighborhood watch neighbors who calls when we leave the garage door open too long.. so I know she'd be on it if disaster broke out.)
I will save you some time by suggesting that you be very selective in purchasing a crock pot recipe book. Big mistake. You will be transported back to the 1970s and presented with multiple meals that you swore you would NEVER eat again the moment you left your parents house for good. (I'm not a fan of corn mixed in with anything, or beans and stewed tomatoes.. you get the drift. Blech.)
Mostly I just experiment (or call my bff ask what she's making for dinner and copy her.. way easier.) However it is very important to turn it 'ON' when you run out of the house in the morning. Expecting to come home to the simmering smells of some yummy meal instead to find cold wet partially thawed chicken is a HUGE let down. And then the whole stomping around the kitchen thing starts... yeah, no good.
Crock Pot. My new friend.
So now that bff gave me the super simple idea for making chicken that I could use for tacos, salads etc.. I am totally sold. The crock pot rocks! Was i just late to the crock pot club and everyone still uses them? This pot of crockery has made my dinner time life - fabulous! I've even started trading crock pot recipes with my co workers! And now I have crock pot envy and want the crock pot on a timer - because as it stands right now - I just pray that my crock pot does not catch my house on fire while I'm at work. (However I have one of those nosey neighborhood watch neighbors who calls when we leave the garage door open too long.. so I know she'd be on it if disaster broke out.)
I will save you some time by suggesting that you be very selective in purchasing a crock pot recipe book. Big mistake. You will be transported back to the 1970s and presented with multiple meals that you swore you would NEVER eat again the moment you left your parents house for good. (I'm not a fan of corn mixed in with anything, or beans and stewed tomatoes.. you get the drift. Blech.)
Mostly I just experiment (or call my bff ask what she's making for dinner and copy her.. way easier.) However it is very important to turn it 'ON' when you run out of the house in the morning. Expecting to come home to the simmering smells of some yummy meal instead to find cold wet partially thawed chicken is a HUGE let down. And then the whole stomping around the kitchen thing starts... yeah, no good.
Crock Pot. My new friend.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Headline: Pseudo SuperMom Implodes
**Warning - Negative Nelly rant below.
Today, this week, I cannot do it. I am going to wallow in some self pity for a moment and just go off on all the shit that Moms, 'working' Moms, basically Mom's in general have to deal with.
It's too much. Seriously. Too much to keep track of, keep clean, keep fed, 'keeping up', the whole thing.
Yes, I chose to have children and of course I enjoy them, love them, am happy I have a family blah blah blah... but dude, some times I really just want to get in my car and drive away for a long weekend, or month, or a year in Italy. But then that would mean I would have a bigger pile of laundry when I get back, so it's probably not worth it.
I choose to be a working Mom. I struggle with this choice all the time, especially when like tonight my daughter was very last kid there when I picked her up. And she was eating a chocolate rice krispy treat. And then wouldn't eat my forking 'pink pancakes' for dinner. (fortified with protein and veggies, but you totally can't even tell they taste awesome.)
I'm tired of thinking of stuff to make for dinner that is healthy and won't take me back to the big girl jeans and that my kids will eat at least one element of and of course that doesn't take more than 1/2 an hour to prepare. I'm tired of battling at bedtime and bathtime and wanting to scream at my daughter because she's using the most rude voice (because hello - can you say pot calling kettle black?) Or remembering as I'm rushing to get back on the computer (praying that we have a connection tonight - thanks a lot for making my life hell Comcast) rushing to finish the work I didn't get to because I have to run out of my office at 5:02PM so my daughter isn't the only kid left at school. Oh wait, that didn't work.
Remembering that I was going to make baked potatoes tonight so that we could have them for dinner tomorrow night. Because baked potatoes are way better from the oven than the microwave. Oh and that if there's any prayer for me to remember to put dinner in the crock pot tomorrow, I'll have to take it out tonight. And when I"m remembering all this I go back out to the kitchen that still has dishes and crumbs and toys and barrettes and muffins left out. Even though my husband was nice and did clean up the dishes from the dinner no one ate.
So then that sets off the stomping tirade (from me, not the toddlers). Why does no one else in my house (or in the male species apparently) have my same sense of cleanliness? It stresses me out to have crap lying all over the counters and I want to SMASH the stupid phone and it's cord and the keys and card keys that lay all over the counter each night. (Note to self, remember for 18th time to order that phone cord do hickey holder thing that looks like something in a Pottery Barn ad.)
So then I'll be making the lunch for school which my child will eat very little of and making sure the bookbag is by the door, complete with little notes next to each book proving we read them. And changing the laundry out. And mailing a birthday card to that relative. And responding to the invitation to that other birthday party. And finding out that I put the wrong date on the Baby Shower invites for my sister and she's not sure she can get me the phone numbers of her friends so I can call and fix it for them. And knowing I can't go to bed until I put that other huge pile of laundry away because what if I die in a car accident tomorrow and my friends and family come to my house and it's a total pig stye And packing a bag for the gym so I can try and get a work out in this week. And fall asleep reading the two different multiple page 'newsletters' from each of the girls schools after I make notes to put all the pertinent dates in my calendar so I don't miss the parent teacher conference. Like I did today.
I'm done. I quit. This Pseudo SuperMom's Powers are gone. However, I'd like to keep the cape.
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