Eleven

Da na na na na na na na
They say it's your birthday
Da na na na na na na na
We're gonna have a good time.....

Eleven, or has Dylan likes to say, double baseball bats.
I can't believe it.
It really does go by quickly.

So, here's to my 11 year old shortstop.
My very accomplished violin player.
My brainiac.
My comedian.
My little boy.

Happy Birthday.
I love you!

Me! Me! Me!

Being a working mother is tough.
Oh stop rolling your eyes.
I know, I just started working this year and
I know I act like I'm the ONE and ONLY working mom,
but come on - it's hard.
Plus, having a 10 year old who, on any given day has
baseball
violin
religion class
boy scouts
AND 4-5 hours of homework doesn't make it any easier.
I think the kid needs a personal assistant.
Oh wait, that's ME.
And don't bother telling me he's "over scheduled" ok?
Those events often fall on the same day, same time
and we decide ahead of time which ones
we'll absolutely flip-out about missing,
we do exactly that, flip-out,
and then we sulk appropriately .
Sometimes you have to take a little time for yourself.
I find it's best to do so before the urge to torture small animals becomes so strong that................nevermind.
Yeah, that's the point I've gotten to, so the next few days are...
ALL ABOUT ME!
Had a mani-pedi this am. And a MAN did it. Loved it.
I'll definitely go to him for my next manicure (6 months).
Getting the curls cut tomorrow, hi-lites Thursday.
In between I have to get Dylan from Bobby's house, run him to violin, then baseball.
Afterwards I'll write out his birthday invitations and then run to the post office to mail them,
but I'll be sure to wear flip-flops so I can look at my new toes.
You know I already ruined my manicure, right?
..........where is a squirrel when you need one...........

Things to ponder on a beautiful Sunday morning.

1- Why does a 10 year old boy flip out when his mom picks out a perfectly nice sweater for him to wear to church?

2- How much jail time would a mom serve for jamming a sweater down a 10 year old's throat?

3- Where do the snails in my backyard come from and how do they get there so quickly?

4-When you get a new car, how long before you stop turning on the wipers when you mean to signal?
How many more times will you lock yourself INSIDE this new car?

5- Will your 10 year old son ever stop going into hysterics whenever you do that?

6- Who the hell left that Borat message on my cell phone?

Bad Mama

Yesterday.
Home from school.
Hurry!!! Baseball!!!
Here, have a PB&J sandwich, energy for practice.
Hurry up, do homework, you have practice.
We have to be there early, we missed the first one because you were sick.
Here are you clothes.
Hurry up, get changed.
Is your homework finished??!!!!
Hurry!!!!
Get in the car!!!!!!
Hurry!!!!!!!
Drive to the field.
First one's there. Good.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Hmmmm...........
Did the coach say this field?
Hmmmm.............
Let's drive to the other field.
Hurry!!! Get in the car!!!!
Now we're late!!!!!
Speed to the other field!!!!
Hurry!!!!
No one there.
Hmmmm...............
Call coach.
No answer.
Drive around.
Hurry!!!!!
Ring, ring....
Coach.
Hi, where are you??? We're ready!!!!! We've been hurrying!!!!!! We're ready!!!!! WHERE ARE YOU!!!!???????
Practice was yesterday.
Shit.
MOM!
sorry.

The Curly Girl is back.

Yup, the curls won. I was my old self today.
I walked into school all curly and one of the first kids I saw said:
"Mrs. M! You're back!"
Yes, I think everyone was more comfortable with the curls.
That's who I am, curly, unpredictable, a little crazy, fun.
Curly Girl, that's me.

Had a little burst of mojo around 5pm and managed to crank this out:

I used the always wonderful Worldwin Cardstock
Zsiage paper
Zsiage chipboard letters

Curly? Straight?

Thank you for all the nice comments about my straight hair and ginormous forehead. You are too kind.
So here are some comments about my new hair from the kids at school:
"It's SOOOO much better"
"I don't like you that way"
"Who are you?"
"OH MY GOD"
"You look scary"
Yeah, so the curls will be back tomorrow. I didn't feel like doing my hair today so I made sure I didn't move an inch while I slept, and then I did all these crazy moves in the shower to prevent the hair from getting wet, I'm sure I could teach a yoga class now.

Curly Girl Goes Straight!

Story at 11.
(did you ever see such an enormous forehead?? It's more like an eighthead.)

104.6

No, not a local radio station.
Dylan's temperature yesterday.
Within 20 minutes his temp went from 104 to 104.6, even after Motrin.
Little panicky.
Called best friend Jodi.
Called doctor.
Called Grandma, who is a nurse.
Wet cloth on forehead.
Lots of pacing.
Grandma shows up.
Exhale.
Temp down.
"Mom, can I have some pizza?"
You can have anything you want.

An Open Letter to the "Lady" On-Line Behind Me at the Grocery Store

Dear Lady,
You seemed to be in a hurry.
Perhaps you had to go to the bathroom.
Perhaps you were rushing to visit your poor sick aunt in the hospital and visiting hours end at exactly 1:42pm.
Perhaps you had to bring your cart full of stuff over to the homeless shelter before another person went hungry....
But somehow I doubt any of those were the case.
I think you were just a rude, obnoxious wench who found it necessary to put your hands on my groceries and push them up on the belt so you could make room for 93 boxes of Lean Cuisine.
DON'T TOUCH MY STUFF!
DON'T EVER TOUCH MY STUFF!
You wanna pay for it, then ok, you can touch, but you didn't offer.
Not only did you TOUCH MY STUFF, you put both hands on my three loaves of bread (lovely bakery sourdough, cinnamon raisin swirl and 183 grain something or other).
You SQUASHED my loaves!
Did you catch the look I shot you? No, because your ginormous Yoko sunglasses were blocking your view or maybe you couldn't see over your Meg Ryan lips.
And I love how you found it necessary while furiously loading organic crap on to the belt, to push into my cart, which pushed into me, and demand that the checker check the price of your 323 load bottle of Tide.
WAIT YOUR TURN!!
I bet you're the kind of driver who doesn't believe in alternate feed.
I want you to know that I got immense pleasure out of discovering that I didn't have enough cash in my wallet to pay for my junk food and insecticide covered fruit.
You know I slid the credit card through the reader incorrectly on purpose, all 7 times.
HA!
That'll learn ya'.

Resourceful

My hair dryer broke. Yes, another one
I guess it developed a grudge against me, as it started shooting big ass sparks at my head accompanied by loud popping noises.
It wasn't even a year old.
Yeah, it was a cheepie ConAir $18 job, but all I do is diffuse my curls, 15 minutes - tops - each day.
So I tossed it out and resurrected my last broken blow dryer. See, I keep an old one on hand, unless they have a built-in Uzi like this one.
The old dead one was indeed that....dead.
What's a Curly Girl to do????
She sticks her head in the oven, that's what.
Seriously.
Hey, the curls need heat and no, I didn't stick my head all the way in. I crank it up to 350, crack the door a little bit and dry the girls.
I know.
Dylan saw this and I think he's ready to commit me. Yes, even my 10 year old knows it's wrong. It's just wrong.
So I'm in the market for a new dryer.
Jen, my boss, thinks I should get one of those professional $100 jobbies. I'd be very happy with another $18 flame thrower.
Suggestions?

Lazy

That's a slug.
That was me yesterday.
I really didn't do anything. I did manage to shower, thank God, oh, and I made a wonderful dinner, but between those two things.....not much.
Today is a new day.
I have to CREATE.
I'll be back later to show you what I've done.

Wearing heels.

Once upon a time there was a girl who wore heels every day. The girl not only walked to and from work, but she stood all day wearing those heels. Usually she had to stand on the train too as the land was sorely lacking in chivalrous men. The girl didn't mind - most of the time.
Then one day, the girl met and married her prince who took her away from the big city. They had their own little prince and the girl stayed home to care for the baby prince. She also cooked and cleaned on occasion.
Ten years passed.
The baby prince was no longer a baby, but a very funny, baseball playing violin virtuoso with a social life to rival anyone in the kingdom.
The girl decided to go back to the big city, well, actually, two towns over, and try her hand at work once again.
So after 10 years of flats, the girl dared to don her heels again, and you know what happened........
HER FEET FREAKIN' HURT LIKE A SON OF BITCH!