We vote, we create living things, we secretly run things, we work in factories, we are corporate executives. We are women (hear us roar). Women have been fighting to have equal rights with men for a long, long time. Women had to fight to get the right to vote (We're clearly soldiers in petticoats, dauntless crusaders for women's votes... you know you were singing it too) or even the right to have a job. Women's liberation and all that jazz. However, there is one group of women that time forgot.
Stay-at-Home Moms. Disgruntled Housewives. Wisteria Lane's got nothing on the real thing. We've been underappreciated for centuries. Expected to do the work of ten men. Yet we recieve no wages for our work.
So I'm proposing a revolutionary use of our particular skillset. Government. We should be in charge of things. (We already are anyway.)
We could put together a dinner in no time and for less money (we do barbeques), organize charitable events (we do bake sales), give thought provoking speeches on doing what is right and good (been doing it for years), cut down on costs by cleaning up after ourselves (we'd probably do it out of habit anyway).
In a few years the place would all be ours... and let's face it, we'd still do all the same things that we do now. Because we're housewives and mothers (and secretly have magical powers) and that's just how we roll (as the kids say).
So return, brave citizens, to your ovens, your brooms, your huddled masses (of laundry). Somewhere out there is a ball team that is depending on you. It's your day for snacks (you know who you are)! Go! Lead them!
(This message paid for by the Disgruntled Housewives of America Foundation.)
(Such a foundation does not exist in reality)
4.10.2010
Let's Go To The Movies!
Movies, cinema, theater whatever you call it, we all know it. Movies are everywhere and since the advent of such new-fangled devices as personal camcorders, personal computers, and (my personal favorite) the Internet (aka, interwebs, world wide web, the place with the thing and the people and stuff, you know), everywhere literally means Every Where. There are home movies (More of the Grand Canyon Grandma???), wedding videos (Aww... how sweet.), birth videos (Aww.. how-OH MY GOD!!!), video clips (from cell phones that quickly become), viral videos, but perhaps my favorite of all forms of film is the theater showing of feature films. It's great entertainment for the whole family. Right?
Maybe, but there are things that all the good intentions in the world cannot influence. One of those things is spontaneously taking a one-year-old and a three-year-old to see a movie by yourself. Why, oh why (I seem to be asking myself that a lot these days) did I think this was a good idea. Point 1- Movie theaters on Saturdays are generally a bad idea. Point 2-Small children in movie theaters is generally a bad idea. Point 3- The two to one child to parent ratio at the movie theater is generally a bad idea. Even if two negatives made a positive, we'd still be at a Bad Idea. Even if you have the forethought to bring appropriate drinks (Mama, I want juice. In my Transformers cup!!! No wait, wait, I want milk. No, juice) and love items for said children (monsters), you're still probably at a bad idea.
How do I know, you ask. I know because my road to hell is paved with the good intentions that just didn't seem to influence my children's behavior at the movie theater. Saturday. By myself.
During the two thoroughly exciting hours we spent at our local cineplex, we wore 3D glasses, took off 3D glasses, lost 3D glasses, went to the bathroom three times, flashed little boy butt to the ladies restroom, ate popcorn, fought over popcorn, choked on popcorn, ate candy, fought over candy, dropped candy, dropped popcorn, dropped sippy cup, chased sippy cup down aisle, lost sippy cup in theater, dropped other child's cup, found other child's cup, spilled popcorn, dropped more popcorn, argued with brother, argued with sister and generally caused a ruckus. Honestly, I'm surprised we didn't get kicked out.
You know, in the movie Annie, they make it look so easy to take your kid to the movies. It's all lies. Children do not like to wear 3D glasses or share their popcorn or sit still for the last half hour of the movie (no matter how many times you tell them that they have to wait for the lights to come on so Mama can "FIND YOUR CUP!!!").
So, if you're at the theater and you hear some poor woman screaming "Why, God, why did I think this was a good idea?!?", you'll know it was some poor misguided mother who thought her children would enjoy going to the movies (because Annie was good).
Maybe, but there are things that all the good intentions in the world cannot influence. One of those things is spontaneously taking a one-year-old and a three-year-old to see a movie by yourself. Why, oh why (I seem to be asking myself that a lot these days) did I think this was a good idea. Point 1- Movie theaters on Saturdays are generally a bad idea. Point 2-Small children in movie theaters is generally a bad idea. Point 3- The two to one child to parent ratio at the movie theater is generally a bad idea. Even if two negatives made a positive, we'd still be at a Bad Idea. Even if you have the forethought to bring appropriate drinks (Mama, I want juice. In my Transformers cup!!! No wait, wait, I want milk. No, juice) and love items for said children (monsters), you're still probably at a bad idea.
How do I know, you ask. I know because my road to hell is paved with the good intentions that just didn't seem to influence my children's behavior at the movie theater. Saturday. By myself.
During the two thoroughly exciting hours we spent at our local cineplex, we wore 3D glasses, took off 3D glasses, lost 3D glasses, went to the bathroom three times, flashed little boy butt to the ladies restroom, ate popcorn, fought over popcorn, choked on popcorn, ate candy, fought over candy, dropped candy, dropped popcorn, dropped sippy cup, chased sippy cup down aisle, lost sippy cup in theater, dropped other child's cup, found other child's cup, spilled popcorn, dropped more popcorn, argued with brother, argued with sister and generally caused a ruckus. Honestly, I'm surprised we didn't get kicked out.
You know, in the movie Annie, they make it look so easy to take your kid to the movies. It's all lies. Children do not like to wear 3D glasses or share their popcorn or sit still for the last half hour of the movie (no matter how many times you tell them that they have to wait for the lights to come on so Mama can "FIND YOUR CUP!!!").
So, if you're at the theater and you hear some poor woman screaming "Why, God, why did I think this was a good idea?!?", you'll know it was some poor misguided mother who thought her children would enjoy going to the movies (because Annie was good).
4.07.2010
You May Be Right...
Children have an amazing innate ability to have fun anywhere (except the doctor, grocery store, post office, or electric company). The simplest things bring them hours of enjoyment. A small child can turn an average cardboard box into a house, a club, a clubhouse, a rocket, a car, a train, jail, a garage, a table, no a garage, but I said I want a TABLE!!!
When did we, as adults, lose the ability to have that kind of fun? When did sidewalk chalk become a mess desperately in need of some spray and wash instead of a wonderful rainbow of expression? Somewhere along the way we lose our way, but a "lucky" few of us have discovered the secret to child-like fun. (Are you ready for this?) Children!
Nothing gets you outside playing (read: cleaning) with bubbles and Play-Doh like children. There are the games of Hide-and-Seek that turn into Hide-and-Why-is-it-so-quiet-oh-crap-Seek. And something seems to go terribly wrong when a frazzled mother (like the ones in comic strips with frizzy hair circa Albert Einstein and crazy eyes) grabs a piece of sidewalk chalk at the end of a very long (long, long, long, long, long) day of (not so) quick errands (or torture).
Rain turns into a pond, with a duck and a fish, oh, a cloud, maybe a thunderstorm complete with lightning bolt and if you call now I'll throw in a badly drawn Zeus in the Parthenon (maybe?) for absolutely free! (But act now because we can't keep these deals around forever.) And it's entitled, "Zeus, Zeus's Wrath, and Uh Oh Duck". (Probably not bound for the Louvre, let's face it.)
Some people will say their children bring out the kid in them. I say Poppycock! Sometimes you just have to laugh so you won't cry.
And you may be right, I may be crazy, (Hey!) but we all may be a little crazy inside.
Dedicated in loving memory to William Homer Haskins, an eternal kid-at-heart.
When did we, as adults, lose the ability to have that kind of fun? When did sidewalk chalk become a mess desperately in need of some spray and wash instead of a wonderful rainbow of expression? Somewhere along the way we lose our way, but a "lucky" few of us have discovered the secret to child-like fun. (Are you ready for this?) Children!
Nothing gets you outside playing (read: cleaning) with bubbles and Play-Doh like children. There are the games of Hide-and-Seek that turn into Hide-and-Why-is-it-so-quiet-oh-crap-Seek. And something seems to go terribly wrong when a frazzled mother (like the ones in comic strips with frizzy hair circa Albert Einstein and crazy eyes) grabs a piece of sidewalk chalk at the end of a very long (long, long, long, long, long) day of (not so) quick errands (or torture).
Rain turns into a pond, with a duck and a fish, oh, a cloud, maybe a thunderstorm complete with lightning bolt and if you call now I'll throw in a badly drawn Zeus in the Parthenon (maybe?) for absolutely free! (But act now because we can't keep these deals around forever.) And it's entitled, "Zeus, Zeus's Wrath, and Uh Oh Duck". (Probably not bound for the Louvre, let's face it.)
Some people will say their children bring out the kid in them. I say Poppycock! Sometimes you just have to laugh so you won't cry.
And you may be right, I may be crazy, (Hey!) but we all may be a little crazy inside.
Dedicated in loving memory to William Homer Haskins, an eternal kid-at-heart.
3.26.2010
A Word About Exhaustion and Time Travel.
When I was young, (back in the day) I thought I knew tired. I thought that tired and I were well acquainted from my many late nights spent with the internet. I had school and homework, extracurricular activities (boyfriend), important things to tend to (boyfriend), and a boyfriend (boyfriend). I had no idea what exhaustion was.
And now, five years, four moves, two point five kids and a dog, two deployments, innumerable mini-disasters (and a partridge in a pear tree) later, I am so tired that I've entered a whole new realm of exhaustion. A realm so powerful that it enables me to travel through time (that's to say nothing of the delirium and randomness that comes with complete and utter exhaustion). Or at least manipulate it at random (not at will though, unfortunately).
For instance, it's Friday now, but the last day I recall registering was... Wednesday(?). Time travel.
And also, I thought it may have been Saturday since time had managed to slow to a near stop. Time manipulation.
Basically, at any given time, it may be any given time. So, I'm going to hop in my Delorean (delirium) and go back! To the future!!
And now, five years, four moves, two point five kids and a dog, two deployments, innumerable mini-disasters (and a partridge in a pear tree) later, I am so tired that I've entered a whole new realm of exhaustion. A realm so powerful that it enables me to travel through time (that's to say nothing of the delirium and randomness that comes with complete and utter exhaustion). Or at least manipulate it at random (not at will though, unfortunately).
For instance, it's Friday now, but the last day I recall registering was... Wednesday(?). Time travel.
And also, I thought it may have been Saturday since time had managed to slow to a near stop. Time manipulation.
Basically, at any given time, it may be any given time. So, I'm going to hop in my Delorean (delirium) and go back! To the future!!
3.20.2010
Remember the Tostitos Commercial?
People thrive off of human interaction. It's at the core of our beings. It's why we have created this rapidly growing market of internet phenomena. It's amazing how you can stalk someone from across the country (I'm watching you). In roughly 2.5 seconds, half of the world can know exactly what one person thinks or has to say (or how someone's boyfriend totally broke up her by text).
But even with all of these ways of communicating, the one we crave most is the good, old-fashioned face-to-face chat. Chatty Cathy's unite! This is even more important to the Stay-At-Home Mom. She is a completely different creature (sounds like a National Geographic documentary). She spends her days speaking Toddlerese (Interpreters needed!!!) and conversing with such important figures as Elmo and Dora the Explorer. (If I have to tell Swiper one more time, he's going to time out.) That is why mothers love (and I mean love) playgroups.
We'll tell you it's for the kids because we all know that they need to interact with other kids their age to learn social skills and they need to play and work out all that energy. I'll let you in on a little secret though, while that may be true, it's a lie. We go to playgroup to talk to other moms. Really just other people who don't pee themselves (a lot of parenting has to do with the bathroom. It really is a crappy job. Get it?) It's even better when Playgroup Mom commiserates with you.
Have you seen those moms at the park who are laughing hysterically and causing a ruckus in the process? They're probably stay-at-home moms who are just thrilled to be out of the house. The conversations usually go something like this:
"So this morning my son yelled at my daughter because she stole his cup," said Mom No.1
"I know! Mine did too!" Mom No.2 offers.
"Don't you hate it when they do that?" Mom No. 1 asks.
Previously unknown Mom No. 3 interjects, "Wow, mine do that too!!!"
Raucous laughter ensues.
And that will be the highlight of all three mom's days.
Remember that Tostitos commercial where three moms are eating chips talking about how getting the kids together is so wonderful? Then it cuts to the kids and there are three infants in car seats. That sums it up quite well. (said Mom No. 1 in her blog so someone can read it in 2.5 seconds)
Chatty Cathy's invited to the park on my block for raucous laughter and cupcakes.
But even with all of these ways of communicating, the one we crave most is the good, old-fashioned face-to-face chat. Chatty Cathy's unite! This is even more important to the Stay-At-Home Mom. She is a completely different creature (sounds like a National Geographic documentary). She spends her days speaking Toddlerese (Interpreters needed!!!) and conversing with such important figures as Elmo and Dora the Explorer. (If I have to tell Swiper one more time, he's going to time out.) That is why mothers love (and I mean love) playgroups.
We'll tell you it's for the kids because we all know that they need to interact with other kids their age to learn social skills and they need to play and work out all that energy. I'll let you in on a little secret though, while that may be true, it's a lie. We go to playgroup to talk to other moms. Really just other people who don't pee themselves (a lot of parenting has to do with the bathroom. It really is a crappy job. Get it?) It's even better when Playgroup Mom commiserates with you.
Have you seen those moms at the park who are laughing hysterically and causing a ruckus in the process? They're probably stay-at-home moms who are just thrilled to be out of the house. The conversations usually go something like this:
"So this morning my son yelled at my daughter because she stole his cup," said Mom No.1
"I know! Mine did too!" Mom No.2 offers.
"Don't you hate it when they do that?" Mom No. 1 asks.
Previously unknown Mom No. 3 interjects, "Wow, mine do that too!!!"
Raucous laughter ensues.
And that will be the highlight of all three mom's days.
Remember that Tostitos commercial where three moms are eating chips talking about how getting the kids together is so wonderful? Then it cuts to the kids and there are three infants in car seats. That sums it up quite well. (said Mom No. 1 in her blog so someone can read it in 2.5 seconds)
Chatty Cathy's invited to the park on my block for raucous laughter and cupcakes.
3.15.2010
Kites Are Fickle Things
Kite flying has long been regarded as a very pleasurable leisure time activity. Kites can be flown by children and adults, a single person or a whole family. In the Disney film, Mary Poppins, George Banks broke through the monotony of his British life by flying a kite. Perhaps kites are magic. Or, maybe they're just ambitious.
We flew our first kite of the year yesterday. Transformers. With a tail. We went to the field where the old aircraft are displayed. Good idea right? Plenty of room to fly and run and good parking. It was going great! The one-year-old wonder was wandering through the field, Grandpa was being Kite Flyer Extraordinaire, the boy was his apprentice (or as much of an apprentice as any three-year-old can be), and (I didn't know it yet, but) I was to become a World Class Sprinter.
The Apprentice got the reins and it was going well. He'd run with it and bring it back. We took pictures and video and laughed at the... HOLY COW, it's getting away!!! With near lightning speed, I was off, kicking off my shoes in mid-stride (you just can't run in Crocs), running as fast as my out of shape, Mommy legs would carry me. I finally caught up to it on the other side of the green airplane. I was very proud of myself for catching a rogue kite (until I learned the truth).
The Truth- The kite string had gotten caught on the tail of Green Airplane and the kite had gone on to the wing (kites are ambitious) where it could go no farther and hit the ground (where I proudly caught up to it...).
The kite was pulled down... not the string.
"Maybe I should call somebody to come get it down," I suggested.
"We're right here, they'll throw us in the Brig," Grandpa wisely replied.
"Oh, it's sunday. Nothing's open anyway," I recalled.
As of now, there's still a yellow kite handle blowing in the wind off the tail of a C-123K aircraft...
I'm just waiting for the sirens.
We flew our first kite of the year yesterday. Transformers. With a tail. We went to the field where the old aircraft are displayed. Good idea right? Plenty of room to fly and run and good parking. It was going great! The one-year-old wonder was wandering through the field, Grandpa was being Kite Flyer Extraordinaire, the boy was his apprentice (or as much of an apprentice as any three-year-old can be), and (I didn't know it yet, but) I was to become a World Class Sprinter.
The Apprentice got the reins and it was going well. He'd run with it and bring it back. We took pictures and video and laughed at the... HOLY COW, it's getting away!!! With near lightning speed, I was off, kicking off my shoes in mid-stride (you just can't run in Crocs), running as fast as my out of shape, Mommy legs would carry me. I finally caught up to it on the other side of the green airplane. I was very proud of myself for catching a rogue kite (until I learned the truth).
The Truth- The kite string had gotten caught on the tail of Green Airplane and the kite had gone on to the wing (kites are ambitious) where it could go no farther and hit the ground (where I proudly caught up to it...).
The kite was pulled down... not the string.
"Maybe I should call somebody to come get it down," I suggested.
"We're right here, they'll throw us in the Brig," Grandpa wisely replied.
"Oh, it's sunday. Nothing's open anyway," I recalled.
As of now, there's still a yellow kite handle blowing in the wind off the tail of a C-123K aircraft...
I'm just waiting for the sirens.
3.12.2010
Give them a fish, they'll eat for a day. Teach them to fish and they'll run away
It's important to expose your children to nature. It's easy to do that in The Natural State. Arkansas boasts a roaring outdoor life (this article is in no way affiliated with the Arkansas Parks Department.) and a plethora of activities for the avid outdoorsman or even an over excited toddler spending time with his grandfather.
Today was the perfect day for fishing, if you're an adult. It was a little brisk for babies. However, the plan was to go fishing for the first time today, and we must not deviate from the plan. After loading up the car with provisions for every natural disaster ever known to take place and getting bait out of a vending machine, we set out for the lake.
I, myself did not have high expectations for this particular outing. In my mind, my son was grossed out by the worms, antsy and clumsy and fell in the water, while my daughter (who is a human garbage disposal) snacked on a few nice earthworms (they did come out of a vending machine) . So, getting a worm on a hook and the line in the water was already more than I had hoped for.
After about five minutes, he got his first bite. I know, five minutes! It takes me an hour to get anything! No luck, but the second bite was different.
I squealed and reached for the camera, taking many photos of exactly the same thing and of nothing of any consequence in my desire to document the entire occasion should anyone wish to relive it, the whole time, my son and my father were getting a fish out of the water and my daughter was thoroughly unamused. My son was beaming! Positively enraptured! Maybe the best moment of his whole life (all three years of it)!
"Caleb do you want to touch the fish?" we asked.
"Sure!" he said.
He put his hand on his wormy, squirmy rainbow trout and
"Eww!!! That's so gross! I gotta get out of here!" he said, and he ran away.
Someday when I touch my wormy, squirmy kids, I'm going to yell, "Eww!!! That's gross!! I gotta get out of here!" and run away...
Today was the perfect day for fishing, if you're an adult. It was a little brisk for babies. However, the plan was to go fishing for the first time today, and we must not deviate from the plan. After loading up the car with provisions for every natural disaster ever known to take place and getting bait out of a vending machine, we set out for the lake.
I, myself did not have high expectations for this particular outing. In my mind, my son was grossed out by the worms, antsy and clumsy and fell in the water, while my daughter (who is a human garbage disposal) snacked on a few nice earthworms (they did come out of a vending machine) . So, getting a worm on a hook and the line in the water was already more than I had hoped for.
After about five minutes, he got his first bite. I know, five minutes! It takes me an hour to get anything! No luck, but the second bite was different.
I squealed and reached for the camera, taking many photos of exactly the same thing and of nothing of any consequence in my desire to document the entire occasion should anyone wish to relive it, the whole time, my son and my father were getting a fish out of the water and my daughter was thoroughly unamused. My son was beaming! Positively enraptured! Maybe the best moment of his whole life (all three years of it)!
"Caleb do you want to touch the fish?" we asked.
"Sure!" he said.
He put his hand on his wormy, squirmy rainbow trout and
"Eww!!! That's so gross! I gotta get out of here!" he said, and he ran away.
Someday when I touch my wormy, squirmy kids, I'm going to yell, "Eww!!! That's gross!! I gotta get out of here!" and run away...
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