1. clean pantry

Moving forward.  I am on a FIVE DAY CLEANSE.  A Clutter Cleanse. 

Day 1.

I am replacing bottles with cans sippy cups (for baby).  It allows me to reorganize the pantry.  Well, ONE shelf, anyway.

As I was organizing, I realized that I am lacking important kitchen utensils like "MOMMY SIPPY CUPS"! 

Must get to Target right away.  Or Pottery Barn.  Or Anywhere that sells Mommy sippy cups. 

i'm.a.happy.mommy

because i'm going on vacation

far, far, away

to the land of probable relaxation

landing on a cay

no cooking for a while

no cleaning there either

i get to eat at restaurants dressed in style

and there's plenty a housekeeper

so i can do absolutely nothing

sleeping and drinking

perhaps a little shopping

but i won't buy a thing

for the next fifty years....

Said husband resides with us... in between work, travel, and more work... so he is not home a whole lot.  But we have a very BIG dog and he bites.  and growls.  and chews.  and spits. 

Fortunate said husband recently had a day off ... no work, no travel, no projects ... in the downpour.  So he spent the day inside surrounded by extra X chromosomes, moods, tempers, and hormones. 

Daughters 1 and 2 and mommy start speaking in their deaf voices.  Husband is a bit bewildered and asked, "What did you say?" 

Daughter 1 perfectly responded, "huts her hunch?"   Daughter 2 laughed and added, "huh [gutteral sound]? hime her hunch." 

Perplexed husband is not pleased NOR humored.

Mommy guffawed and stated, "hood her hunch!"

Husband left the room.  He returned to announce, "AND I can easily go the next fifty years without ever hearing those voices again!"

So, mommy and daughters 1, 2 and 3 started conversing in Japanese.  

100

red jelly beans? 100 ounces? 100 minutes of peace and quiet? 100 freckles? 100 pages? 100 post-it notes? 100 t-shirts? 100 pennies? 100 steps to the mailbox? 100 idle seconds til I hear the word "MOM"? 100 repetitions of squats? 100 pistachios? 100 ...

100 blog posts!

100 days of writing... of releasing words... of mindless drivel.

It's not even September...

And the talk around school is... Halloween Costumes! Already. Seriously.

Can't it wait another month? Or another six weeks? Halloween?! We still have 4th of July paraphernalia hanging on the front door. We still light snakes on the sidewalk at night (leftover from the 4th).

The children are excited by the selection of costumes available in August. And they will be definitely less excited by their available choices in October.

What happened to making your own costume? Like, being a "Gypsy" or an "American Indian" or a "Hobo" for the fifth year in a row? There weren't a whole lot of choices back in my 'trick or treating' days. And it wasn't THAT long ago.

The girls are thinking of "OZ"... one will be Dorothy, one will be the Scarecrow and the other one will be the New Toto.

And, hopefully, a "little" costume for mommy - as she hands out candy to all the neighborhood children. At least, Daddy will be happy.

Mommy Mafia

A group of "first grade" moms congregate on the same patch of grassy lawn as school is dismissed. The mafia of moms varies daily. The rich moms. The fit moms. The tan moms. The dowdy moms. The intellectually-challenged moms. The mis-fit moms. The mis-understood moms.

Today the conversation is dull, braggart, and nauseating. We all "pay" the same tuition. We all "wear" the same uniforms. We all "have" the same teacher. We are all "getting" the same education. WE ARE ALL THE SAME. Maybe. Maybe NOT. NOT. Definitely NOT.

Mom A announces, "My Sara is reading on a second grade level already". (Woo Hoo!) Mom B counteroffers, "Dillyn is so smart. She has been accepted in the Children's University for summer!" (Another Woo Hoo to YOU!) Mom C agonizes with her statement, "Lizbeth is reading on the seventh grade level according to the latest testing at ESU" (What is ESU?). Mom D admits, "Where is ESU? My Briella has straight A's". (An amazing feat considering the students do not receive letter grades until third grade!)

I listen without volunteering as the one-ups-man continues in full force. Mom E sighs, "I wish there were another program for the extremely gifted"! Mom F declares, "Yes, I would pay more IF there were only a 'special' extra program for our children"!

I finally interject with my off-kilter humor, "The children are SUPPOSED to be READING???"

Six moms stop and stare at me in shock. They are aghast. It is apparent on their faces. They are oblivious to my sarcasm. Inside I am giggling like a six year old. I am totally pleased with my banter.

Later on, I realize that the gossip has begun. I am its focal point. I am the reason their brilliant children are being "held back" in the classroom. I am the reason their children are just mediocre. BUT, I GET THE LAST LAUGH!!

It's Rough Being A Baby...

I want to be a cat (says the wise one)!

Cry. Point. Clap. Cry. Whine. Mess. Laugh. Smile. Cry. Cry. Grunt. Utter. Cry. Laugh. Smile. Sleep. Mess. Cry. Tantrum. Smile. Laugh. Cry. Yuck! Walk. Cry. Cry. Fall. Laugh. Smile. Cry. Crawl. Eat. Smile. Laugh. Mess. Cry. Cry. Smile. Sleep.

Sleep. Eat. Sleep. Sleep. Eat. Chase. Sleep. Eat. Eat. Sleep. Mess. Sleep. Run. Eat. Eat. Pounce. Sleep. Creep. Eat. Climb. Eat. Eat. Sleep.

Who wants to be the "mommy"?

Wake. Caffeinate. Smile. Type. Clean. Cook. Make. Wash. Change. Clean. Carry. Wash. Rinse. Dry. Play. Hydrate. Wipe. Change. Create. Spin. Pull. Push. Wax. Vacuum. Cry. Caffeinate. Hydrate. Smile. Nibble. Cook. Clean. Clean. Wash. Rinse. Dry. Hydrate. Caffeinate. Hallucinate. Smile. Smile. Cook. Clean. Mail. Sweep. Ignore. Answer. Wash. Rinse. Dry. Spin. Play. Wipe. Change. Smile. Watch. Clean. Wash. Rinse. Dry. Laugh. Pull. Play. Tote. Lug. Drag. Nag. Nag. Nag. Wipe. Hydrate. Caffeinate. Smile. Talk. Chat. Listen. Pickup. Clean. Clear. Laugh. Sign. Fix. Write. Read. Peruse. Nag. Nag. Smile. Hydrate. Wash. Rinse. Dry. Smile. Hydrate. Sleep. Snore. Wake. Sleep. Snore. Sleep. Wake. Sleep. Snore. Sleep. Wake.

Sugaritarianism

Allows only the ingestion of ONE food group: FATS - sugary and sweet junk foods for all your daily meals and snacks. All FAT foods are delivered to your plate directly from a prepackaged box! No prep! All eat!

I am contemplating a change in my current dietary habits. Lately, I am having a problem with the process of food preparation and meal consumption.

It begins like this:
Raw Chicken, Beef or Poultry
Trim
Cut into smaller pieces
Cook via baking, grilling, sautéing, broiling, roasting, or boiling
Dinner is served

I cannot eat. I am having an odd aversion to any type of raw meat product.

IF I prepare it, I cannot eat it. IF I do NOT prepare it, I can eat it. Why?

Does ANYONE have this issue?

This is not new for me. It has occasionally occurred over the last twenty years. And it has been occurring more frequently in the past five years. The nausea symptoms are progressing with every meal cooked. I gag. I pass. I avoid.

Do I need therapy for this raw meat aversion?

Luckily, my husband prepares the weekly salmon meal. Thankfully, my husband prepares the yearly turkey meals at Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. The cleaning of the turkey is another blog for another time!

Maybe I need to explore vegetarianism options. But all I can happen upon is Sugaritarianism!

Lucky Charm Revisited

Whatever happened to the superstitious feet? You know the ones that were mass produced into key chains. Dyed in a multitude of colors to suit your fancy. The lucky rabbit foot!

As a young child, a lucky rabbit foot appeared to be the “in” charm of the 70's. And if you were “lucky” enough to be a licensed driver, then you may have had a foot dangling from your keys (to ward off accidents? to ward off being locked out of your car? to put a hex on slow driver A?).

Of course, I was too young to drive but that did not alter my desire to have and carry a lucky rabbit foot. I just really wanted one!

My dad, an avid sportsman, improvised. He hunted dinner rabbits. And if we just happened to be served a game meal, then there was probably a foot somewhere to be had. Not just any foot. But the coveted left hind foot. The luckiest part of the rabbit – so the story goes. shhh! please don't call peta!

One night, as I was washing up for dinner, I noticed a peculiar gamy aroma coming from the kitchen. It was rabbit. (I detest game – any kind of game.) Despite my aversion to a rabbit meal, I was offered the trophy. A real rabbit foot. Not synthetic. Not dyed. It was rabbit colored. It was rabbit odored. It was a stick in your pocket and carry rabbit foot. I was happy … until my cat ran off with my lucky foot.

I suppose the foot did not provide me the gift of luck since I was not feeling particularly lucky. I still preferred the pink commercial foot. And my cat would not have run off with a fake foot.

On the other hand, perhaps, I was lucky. What nine year old kid wants to walk around with a foot in her pocket? So I held out... (not because I wanted to but because nobody bought me a foot!)

And good luck finally arrived by the time I was a legally licensed driver. Rabbit foot was OUT. Bottle-opener key chain was IN. Perfect for enabling the “drinking and driving” teenager phase. And, thankfully, that low-budget fad diminished fast enough and soon gave way to Gucci, the new IN for key rings.

Real (non-dyed) lucky rabbit feet can still be found at www.crookedcreekantlerart.com economically priced at $6.00. Perhaps, renewed luck would be on my side -- thirty years later. (IF I were a CPA, I would take note: a $4.00/7% annual/200% total increase over thirty years!)
Or see www.gucci.com for the classic key ring, now priced at $155.00. (a $90.00/7% annual/140% increase over twenty years! And IF I were a CPA, I would advise myself to buy one NOW because in ten years it may reach the 200% increase creating a new price of $200.00)

Or try some new luck and go for the Tiffany sterling silver heart for $235.00 or the Louis Vuitton classic Monogram Key Ring at $165.00. (Your husband will be thrilled that you gave up on the rabbit foot and held out for something memorable that he can surprise you with! And with my luck, I will be gifted the sentimental rabbit foot on my next birthday from my loving husband!!)