Up The Hill Backwards

Wordless Whatever Day It is

2010-10-04T15:28:00.004-04:00

It was Little S' birthday today

In Order to stop her brother stealing her thunder certain measures needed to be taken.

It didn't work

Where have all the cribs gone

2010-06-07T15:12:00.005-04:00

Since we've gotten rid of the crib its like a free for all in my house. You think its quiet. You think you can finally sit down have a little drink, watch TV when you hear it. At first you think its the neighbors. Maybe a little mouse. But no its worse its the distinctive sound of little feet. It's (gasp) my kids!!! Its like now that the crib is gone the cage has been opened and the animals at the zoo are running free.

My son is stealthy little a little ninja. One time I went into the bathroom and closed the door before seeing him flush against the wall. Silently watching me. Sometimes at night I have the horrible feeling like something is watching me. I look up and there he is. Black rimmed eyes like the boy in the grudge staring at me. Waiting to ask me if Michael Jackson had ever gone to the moon to learn to moon walk or why fish never blink when they clearly have water in their eyes. Its eerie and frightening.

My daughter is less stealthy. She's like the Godfather in pigtails demanding goldfish and strawberry milk. She wanders the halls bumping into things and humming the Wonder pets theme song.

Its getting so I can never trust a moments peace I know that at any minute my children may enter. I may never be able to watch a show that is not rated G again -just-in-case. Why cant they make a crib with the bars on the top so her mommy can have a little drink in peace. Is that so wrong...

And Here It Is

2010-06-04T09:51:00.003-04:00

Wow. Today by mistake I stumbled across my blog. Its been so long since I've seen it. Its not like I haven't thought about it. I do all the time. I write entries in my head while Im laying in bed or while Im bathing the kids or changing a diaper. I even wanted to post the picture of Little S's first poop here for wordless Wednesday but somehow it never happened. Between work and the kids I barely have time to brush my teeth. You know the story blah blah blah

I am resisting the urge to go back and read all my entries. I know this parenting thing its been a hard but sweet road and life is never easy but to read it all laid out like this is very strange. Its like reading your old diaries. It always end up with a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach and an empty bottle of wine next to you.

Instead these days I amuse myself with writing a status update on Face book. It seems like all I can manage these days. I post things like Someone Pass the Cheese Wiz and I feel like I said it all. I mean that is profound but there is something about bloging I miss. The feeling of laying it all out there for people to see. To reflect on if I ever get that chance.

Ive got so much to say and so little time to say it. Even now this is a stolen moment I should be working. I should collating something. But it feels good to say hello again. Ive missed this and I hope it wont be months until I come back again to say hi and take a moment to breath.

Send Me a Gooroo Please

2009-11-10T13:08:00.004-05:00

I'M sorry Ive been so MIB (again). Its been so hard just keeping up with everything. Every time I turn around a new crisis seems to be tapping me on the shoulder and sneezing in my direction. I hate to complain ( no really OK maybe I do) but who knew this whole working mommy thing would be this hard. So far this school year we've had:

broken bones,
pneumonia,
several herniated disks,
school placement problems,
a pinched nerve,
and the most fun of all LICE!

And just the normal things like trying to balance a full time job and running back and forth between two schools is just doing me in. The idea of cooking dinner and doing homework after working a full day,running back and forth between two school across town from each other in 25 minutes while pushing a stroller with a toddler complaining she cant breath and she wants to walk is as appetizing as a plate of cooked meal worms in a light broth. (phew)

Every time I feel like I may have it under control I learn I really don't. It enough to make me sit around and waste my time dreaming of an early retirement or running away and joining some weird cult just so I can have new things to worry about.

Anyway I'm still here just insane and bitter and overworked and ready to cry at the drop of a hat.

Anyone met any good cult leaders if so send him my way I got my bags packed and I have a valid passport ready.

Kindergarten Upadate

2009-09-17T10:11:00.007-04:00

This was B on the first half day of kindergarten.

This was B the night of his 5th Birthday and the first full day of Kindergarten

This is B today

Yes B has fractured his arm falling from the monkey bars at school. He has fractured his growth plate and will be in a cast for the next six weeks. He has discovered that his cast is good for hitting his sister on the head with and is currently using as a new sort of weapon. Even though he is in a cast he is loving school and the attention he is receiving for his battle wound.

Keeping you in the know

Suzie

P.S> I am so sorry I haven't gotten to reading anyone's posts for awhile. As you can see things have gone from nuts to nuts and I promise to get to you all just as soon as I can.

Updates

2009-09-09T15:08:00.002-04:00

Sorry I have been MIA. Things have been crazy and its hard to keep up with everything so I have assembled this update to keep you in the Suzie loop, refresh your Suzie knowledge and keep you abreast (please excuse the pun) of the latest Suzie gossip:

First is first THE BOOBIES ARE FINE! It took forever to find out. Apparently the added stress of not knowing is good for 40 year gals health and looks. So they keep you guessing as long as they possibly can and grudgingly give you a phone call ages later to tell you you are A OK at least until next year when you go through the hell all over again.I love the 40's.

By the way thank you all by the way for your thoughts and prayers you guys rock.

Next Suzie fact I failed the driving test. Yes I sure did. In fact I did it in a wonderful and unique way I hit a parked car. Yup I posses a skill which is stunning and wonderful. My driving instructor who has never cracked a smile in the 20 hours we spent driving together laughed and laughed the whole two hours back to the city. I am very proud.

Lastly my little B went to Kindergarten for the first time today. He smiled and waved me good bye without a second glance and now I am binge eating and having a minor anxiety attack as I think of my little boy going on his way in life. The schools super made me really worked up by saying I remember holding my little boys hand on the way to kindergarten and now I am waving him off as he joins the marines. I don't want my 4 year old to join the marines he cant even tie his shoes yet for goodness sake!

So that's it that's the the scoop, the big show, the facts of my life to date. Call TMZ Suzie's in the house!

Still Waiting

2009-08-26T10:40:00.002-04:00

I had to take a boob sonogram. I'm still waiting for the results. Can someone please play the Jeopardy theme song please.

A Tumor or Not A Tumor That Is The Question

2009-08-24T11:41:00.004-04:00

So so far 40 just sucks. Sucks bad.

Not to spill it all out all over the place. But as soon as I turned 40 my doc sent me for a mammogram.

My Aunt died of breast cancer and it was a terrible experience. Of course I was scared to death of a mammogram. I went in to the imagining center and dressed in one of those spa robes not fooling myself I would end up with sparkly toe nails at the end of it. I told the lady who would be squishing my breast and dragging it across the room about my Aunt and asked her if she could show the film to the doctor right away. She said he was out but she was nice and made me feel really comfortable as she compressed my boob till it looked like a pancake.

I got dressed while freaking out when she came and told me the radiologist was there he would look at the film and I should wait. I did sweating and praying and working myself up into a tizzy. An hour later she came back and brought me back into the room. Apparently something was off she needed to do more squishing. I went numb but not so numb that I didn't feel the next round of squishing and pulling and pulling. When she was done she said she'd go show the doc. I waited and thought about chemo and dying and putting my family through what my aunt went through. It was terrifying. 20 min later she returned. Its fine your in good health well see you again in a year.

I was so happy I walked home on air with a spring in my step I had escaped death.

The next day my doctor called. Don't freak out he said but we found a tumor in your breast. It's probably benign

What?!!

I explained that it was clear the radiologist had told me so.

Well not according to this report he explained. He said You have a tumor and we should do a sonogram.

Please call the radiologist. I begged and find out what happened between its OK and and its a tumor please

The doctor was astounded I don't know why your freaking out about this. He went on Its Friday we wont hear from him until Monday at the earliest.

So I've spent the weekend pretty damn confused. I am fine but I have a tumor. I'm healthy and can go but I'm not.

This is too much for my 40 year old brain. I seem to be confusing the doctor. He doesn't understand why a tumor may upset me. No one is calling me back and I am freaking out.

I hate 40! Hate it hate it hate it!

The Truth About Ryan Seacrest and Dick Clark

2009-08-13T10:22:00.004-04:00

Since I have reached the age of 40 I have been hiding under a rock trying to make it go away. Although hiding under the rock didn't make 40 go away I did have the opportunity to hear some good under the rock gossip (or make some up). This gossip involves someone who is ((gasp)) older than me Mr. Dick Clark.

I heard that Dick (although he is at least 102) suddenly started to age. He had been holding off aging for the last 50 years by drinking the blood of small children and animals. But when that no longer worked he invested his fortune in finding a cure to aging. His team of evil doctors came up with a plan. All he needed was a young good looking down and out guy. He found Ryan Seacrest.

Ryan was living under a bridge and was desperate for cash. Dick gave him an out. He could have Dicks amazing fortune if he agreed to give Dick his body and he took Dick's. He told Ryan that as long as he kept up a good blood supply he could live for a long, long time. He would even have a young wife a mansion, a tremendous fortune and a swimming pool. Ryan said OK. The switch was made and Ryan is now in actuality Dick Clark.

Dick (in Ryan's body)went on to a mass his own fortune and now lives once again in the lap of luxury and has at least another 100 years to go in his body before its time for another change.

Hey I'm 40 I'm allowed to be crazy if I want.

Maybe that should be my tag line.

(By the way not that I didn't love your suggestions but I'm leaving the tag line contest open for another week or so. Hey I'm 40 I can do whatever I want!)

Here It Comes

2009-08-03T15:35:00.002-04:00

So I am turning 40 on Sunday. I must say I thought it would be a lot more graceful than this. I feel like I am heading into the future whining and crying and being pulled along by my feet by father time. When I imagined this day I imagined myself shoulder straight head up walking proudly into 40. But keep in mind I also imagined flying cars and weekend vacation to the moon (sort of a non cartoon Jetsons). But here I am 39.99999 and moving on. I am depressed sore and generally filled with anxiety.

I keep doing a mental recap of life so far and I think Hey Suzie buck up things are pretty good you've accomplished a lot. I wont go into my list of accomplishments as my mother would say its a kenahurah and will call the fates down to destroy any happiness I may have. But I think I have a pretty good list. But I still feel terrible as the big 40 descends.

I think I may be having a mid life crisis. And perhaps I should just embrace it. I mean I've already gotten the tattoo maybe I should get a bright red sports car and some arm candy Perhaps I should run away and join the circus or start a religious cult. But I think I may be too tired for all of that.

So instead I will go to bed at 9pm all this week wake up and drink decaf and try not too eat too many birthday cupcakes my son will make with love and probably some snot. Ain't aging grand.

Tag Line Giveaway Contest

2009-07-27T09:09:00.003-04:00

OK I know I sound like a broken record but my 40th birthday will be coming up soon. I have wonderful things to look forward to like checking boxes on forms that say 40-49 mammograms and high cholesterol. It has also occurred to me that my tag line:

30 something Mom of two, has a Doctorate in education and runs a school. Used to be fun and wild and now just needs a nap.

will no longer be accurate.

I could pretend and be 30 something forever but as I will be embracing my middle age-dom I have decided to change it.

I once saw someone else (thanks Vered) do a tag line contest and since I no longer have an original bone in my body and will never be able to think of a fitting tag line I will be doing a giveaway/ contest. Yes between now and August 6th you my bloggy friend will have the opportunity to help me update my blog with a fitting tag line for your rapidly aging friend. The winner will receive two baby Einstein DVD's. You can either play it for your kids or wait until you get to be my age when you once again find watching brightly colored balls roll and toy monkeys playing a tin drum to classical music endlessly fascinating.

So go on give me some ideas. Don't be shy. Unless you are not form the USA in which case you can submit ideas but there is no way I will get it together to get you the DVD's so all you will get is my undying love and gratitude. The winner will be announced August 6th by *Ryan Seacrest who will be mixing cocktails for me all day long and giving free pedicures.

*I don't actually know Ryan Seacrest and he wont be stopping by but a gal can dream cant she?

Please Dont Tell My Mom

2009-07-22T08:41:00.005-04:00

I wasn't sure if I was going to blog about this as many family members read my blog. But I have decided that as I approach 40 I'm a grown woman and I can make big grown up decisions without having to explain myself . So here goes I got a tattoo. (Please don't tell my mom please. I know Ill be in some bigggg trouble!)

But I did. I got a tattoo its kind of big but I love it. Its on my hip over some very flattering stretch marks. Its a sea horse. I got a sea horse because the female squirts her eggs into the males pouch and then she goes off gallivanting on her own. The male then clings to a weed and swells up and is forced to sit and waits for the babies to emerge. Now I know this has nothing to do with my life as its been years since any form of gallivanting has not occurred f but its a reminder to myself to maybe start doing a little galli every now and then and save some vanting for later.

I went to Daredevil Tattoo. When I got there it was filled with 18 year old boys covered from head to toe in tattoos. Rap music was playing at top volume. I thought run run now why you can. But I didn't I sat there the old lady in her career pants suit silently hoping a meteor would strike the shop before my appointment.

Finally the owner a nice more my age lady appeared and she took me into a back room. She played some blue grass (apparently this is where the old folk hang out) and helped me settle in for the tattoo which I will name Pain Fest 2009. Pain Fest 2009 consisted of me trying not to bite a hole through my purse while a needle poked repeatedly into my skin for an hour and a half. I tried to be cool but its hard with your shirt tucked into your bra strap as you sit in the equivalent of a human sewing machine. She was however very nice and getting this tattoo proves I'm not really old I'm just enhanced age wise.

So here it is my sea horse!

Just a reminder please do not tell my mom!

I HAte Jose'

2009-07-16T08:57:00.003-04:00

I take back everything I said about liking to drive. That wonderful driving teacher is now but a memory I have instead been stuck with Jose'. Jose' speaks in a calm voice. He wears dark sunglasses Jose' however is evil. As soon as I get behind the wheel it begins:

Susan you must anticipate traffic
Susan you must use your rear view mirrors.
Susan you are not signalling
Susan do not use the gas when you turn
Susan watch out for that man on the bike
Susan do not hit that woman with a baby carriage
Susan watch out for that pole.
Susan do not back into that tree.

Although he does not yell at me the calm quiet anxiety that Jose' radiate has created a boiling pot of hate and nervousness in my stomach. I find myself unexpectedly hitting the breaks and unable to hold onto the steering wheel do to all the sweat. I have even found myself experiencing road rage while in park.

Jose not only makes me nervous he makes me mad. Its only a matter of time before that pot overflows and I tell Jose' where to stick it. Before I tell Jose' that he is making me a nervous wreck. Before I tell Jose' that no matter how calm he sounds I have seen him tear a hole in dash board with his finger nails as he barks out commands. Before I start to scream DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO JOSE'! I WILL HIT THAT WOMAN WALKING BEHIND MY CAR IF I WANT TO! I HATE YOU JOSE'! AND MY NAME'S NOT SUSAN!

Im the Queen!

2009-07-13T10:11:00.003-04:00

As many of you know I have started driving lessons. Some of my big fear were will I hit anyone? Will anyone hit me? Will I throw up on the instructor? Fortunately I did not do any of these things. The instructor was really nice. He got in the car with me (brave man) and drove me to a not so busy area but as this is Manhattan that phrase is relative.

He had me get behind the wheel turn the key and suddenly I was covered in sweat. Not just a little sweat but flop sweat. The kind of sweat that soaks you from head to toe. My hand kept slipping off the wheel and I had to keep wiping the torrential downpour out of my eyes to see. My poor instructor pretended not to notice as he had me drive around and around the block stepping on his break every few minutes when I missed stop signs and red lights through the downpour of my own fear.

It was sexy let me tell you.

On Saturday it was time for my next lesson. It was new instructor as I guess the old one was ummm. lets call it sick? This instructor was fearless. He greeted me with a smile and said:

Here you go This isn't my car so hit something if you want to I don't care.

Something me sprung to life. Before I knew it I was cruising down the street at 30 miles and hour. I was doing 3 point turns. I was singing along to the radio and cutting off taxis. I was amazing. I was a driving queen.

There was a moment when I almost hit a woman but she totally deserved it as she walked in the back of my car when I was in reverse doing my three point turn.

So watch out you pedestrians, bike messengers and taxis Suzie the Queen of Cars is behind the wheel!

Today I Drive

2009-07-07T10:16:00.003-04:00

Today I am taking my first driving class. I'm not feeling very confident about it. In fact I woke up several times in a hot sweat thinking about crashing into things.

What really made me nervous was when I was in Philly last week (my excuse for going MIB all last week) I had an experience at Chuckie Cheese that really shook my confidence. For all you foreigners out there Chuckie Cheese is a place for kids that has lots of games and rides for kids and uses a big rat for its mascot (it is as horrible as it sounds). Anyway I was at C.C. eating pizza and pretending my fruit punch in a plastic cup with a rat on it was really a dry gin martini in a clean martini glass when my son approached.

Lets play a driving game mommy Ill teach you to dive.

Apparently my son is a consummate driver who will teach me the ropes if I panic.

What could it hurt I thought. I gripped that wheel put in my coins and took my shiny yellow car driven by my avatar a big busted, blond haired, gal out for a drive. When it began I was whistling a happy tune by the end I could barely pucker.

Yes, by the time the game was over I was covered in sweat and my shiny new yellow car was nothing but a smoldering wreck. Don't even ask about my avatar she wouldn't have spoken to me if she could. But since she was trapped in the fiery wreckage I can only imagine her wrestling with her broken bones to flip me the bird before she became one with the computer cosmos.

I looked over and my son was jumping up and down clapping he had come in first place his avatar was waving a winner flag and his beautiful red car was shiny and proud.

So if today you hear about a ten car pile up in NYC caused by a student driver please don't tell my avatar I know she'll gloat.

A Letter To My Bod

2009-06-26T09:24:00.005-04:00

Dear Body:

You have been a good body Ive been really pleased about our relationship. You breathe you eat and make it possible for me to do everything I need to do in the course of a day. Remember that time we went to the beach...it was all thanks to you. You body are to be commended.

Lately I've noticed you are beginning to hmmm.. whats a nice way to put it..fall apart. I'm not sure who gave you the fall apart message perhaps it was that nasty 5th vertebrae (she's always causing problems) or maybe someone told you this year we would be turning 40.

Contrary to popular belief 40 does not mean one has to fall to pieces. It is not necessary to tell hair follicles to fall out. It's not par for the course to cause us to end up in the hospital in abdominal pain. Neither do you need to give into to migraines, excessive gas, incontinence, scumming to gravity in important and unflattering areas,wrinkling, hemorrhoids or anything else you may associate with the dreaded four zero.

It is my great hope that we will have many many long years left together. I would love to see the world and body it would be my greatest dream to have you there with me. So do me a favor ignore the big four zero its just a number and not a message of destruction and please tell the 5th vertebrae to get a life.

Love,
Suzie

Post Cards From the Hospital

2009-06-23T08:40:00.003-04:00

Some people know how to vacation. They go to Peru or Bornio. Some people prefer Disney or Universal. I however being the unique soul that I am I choose the hospital. Yes the last few days I have been in the hospital throwing up blood and experiencing what can only be described as labor without the wonderful little present at the end.

Wednesday I woke up in the middle of the night feeling as though fairies were pulling my spleen out of my toenails. After a fun filled night of moaning and scaring my husband into an early grave I went to the doctor who quickly sent me to the emergency room. From there I was admitted into the hospital from hell for a fun filled night of injections in the stomach being poked in places even my husband would not dare to go and lemon flavored jello ((shudder)).

I wont bore you with all the details but suffice it to say that Beth Israel is one horrible hospital. And after being poked and prodded and cat scanned and dog scanned the doctor followed by a team of groveling interns said So what do you think is wrong with you?

I laughed and then realized he was serious and staring at this bunch of incompetents I answered My doctorate is in Education Administration ask me whats wrong with a school I can tell you but reading a cat scan is not my speciality.

The doctor and his gang looked disappointed they shrugged their shoulders and moved on to ask another patient to analyze a brain scan.

So according to dopey sneezy and doc I either have an ulcer, gal stones, food poisoning, an alien abduction that went wrong, or a hang nail.

Either way someone owes me a trip to Disney World.

Give Me Back My Candy!

2009-06-16T14:57:00.007-04:00

On Friday in my preschool graduation anxiety I bought a candy bar. Not any candy bar but a Hershey bar. I have to be in the right mood to eat them but when I am they are just so good. I ate a few bites and put it away in my draw for another day. You never know when a chocolate bar could come in handy. All weekend I thought about that bar. I knew Monday morning if I wanted to I could walk in my office at 7am and eat the whole thing.

On Monday I came into my office and there on my desk was a wrapper. A brown crumpled up wrapper. Yes, someone had eaten my candy bar. At first I was ok with it. NO biggy. I could have had other things stolen I mean a candy bar is not much to loose. But as the week has gone on (yes I know it is only Tuesday) I have gotten more resentful about that bar.

I mean I could be eating its delicious chocolatiness right now. But no! Some lunatic bursts into my office over the weekend and steals my little piece of joy. What mean nasty person does a thing like that. Its my candy bar! Not theirs! I am trying not to let my obsession grow but now I want to find this person. I want to find out what kind of heartless meany would do such a thing. I will not rest until I have found the culprit. I will not cease until I have caught the evil dooer and brought them to cholatey justice!

On the flip side B's graduation was great. Here's a picture. Isn't he cute?

and here is an empanada (as some of you were not familiar with its flaky crust and its yummy meat or cheese filling)

and here is a picture of a chocolate bar

cute as well but please note the chocolate bar is not holding a diploma and does not have a flaky crust or a yummy meat or cheese filling..

Poor chocolate bar....

I may be a little obsessed

My Own Little Panic Attack

2009-06-12T09:00:00.005-04:00

Today is B's preschool graduation. Not only is my little boy graduating but I as director I am helping run the thing.

Last night as I sat on the couch watching I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here which is now my favorite show on TV. (I mean seeing Janice Dickinson steal granola bars and urinate in camp has to be one of the most brilliant forms of entertainment ever created.) I began to wonder what dish I should bring to the graduation should I order a pizza or make empanadas?

It was no longer a simple choice it was THE choice. I found I could no longer breath. My heart raced. I began to mumble pizza no empanada.

I mean kids love pizza right and grown ups love empanadas the choice was staggering and before I knew it I was hyperventilating. I knew if I didn't make the right choice the empanada demons would take over the world and the pizza that I ordered would have saved all the inhabitants of earth. My husband turned to me and with a wild look of concern on his face. I clutched at my throat and gurgled pizza.

Yes I was having a full panic attack over what to bring to the graduation.

You would think with the state of the world today fiances being what it was I would find something sensible to have a panic attack over but no, being the overachiever I am I decided to go full panic out on graduation.

Honey my Hubby assured me I will bring the food calm down its all gonna be fine.

No I gasped its not its not

And before I knew it I was boo-hooing over little B going to kindergarten. My little baby leaving his mommies school and going into the big public school. I saw tests and bullies and detention in his future and began to wail. My hubby grabbed the vodka and assured me he would be fine and keep repeating he would order the pizza.

After a big cocktail and some onion dip visualizations I was breathing a little easier as Janice climbed into a glass cage filled with alligators.

I might be ok now but don't blame me if your day is cut short by wild hoards of empanada demons. You've been warned.

I'm Back!

2009-06-10T09:35:00.005-04:00

I'm back. Did you miss me? The trip was great lots of sunshine and deck chairs. Lots of fatty foods and frozen drinks. And the crowning glory , child care! Ahh that was the life.

But now I am back and normal life comes flying at you faster than a baby on a greased sit and spin.

So to really get a good does of reality I went to sign up for driving lessons. It was a brave move on my part since I've never been comfortable with the idea of driving. I always crash those electronic driving game into the wall or run someone over in the first two minutes. But I made a promise to myself that I will learn how to drive in the next three months. So I swallowed my fear and went to sign up at the driving school. Of course I asked lots of questions like are their duel controls for me and the driver? Will the teacher yell at me? How many people crash while learning?

The woman was very nice and answered all of my questions and then said to me:

I know how hard it is for middle aged woman to learn how to drive? Middle aged woman always ask questions like that.

WHAT?!?!

WHAT DID SHE SAY!?!

MIDDLE AGED WOMAN! ME? WHAT THE...!?!

Suddenly my fear of driving was the least of my worries I was now a middle aged woman. I guess I saw it coming people no longer calling me miss and the dreaded Ma'am rearing its ugly head. The reduction of cat calls while passing construction sites. The rechecking if its mammogram time at the doc. It all lead here to the first time I have been called middle aged.

Suddenly there I was a middle aged woman standing in a driving school. It was awful it was unpleasant and worst of all it was the truth (I think how old is middle aged anyway? Isn't it 50 now. I mean jeepers I'm only 39! Still a spring chicken still in my thirties at least for another few months. Whats wrong with that chick anyway who says things like that! That's it I'm taking my toys and going home!)

I should have never come back from vacation.

Im Going On A Trip!

2009-05-28T09:51:00.004-04:00

So I am ready to go on vacation to Club Med for a week. How do I know? These are my subtle clues:

I just slammed my head into a door and I am here at my desk typing with a big slab of butter and salt on my head. (Apparently its an old remedy to stop my head from swelling some of the teachers applied to my head with glee.)

A bug flew into my eye this morning causing terrible pain and lots of snickering.

I didn't sleep at all last night partly due to everyone having bad dreams in shifts and partly due to my own bad dreams about airports and screaming children.

I have bronchitis and sound so much like Darth Vader I'm sure they will kick me off the plane for spreading the Swine Flu.

Yes As you night have guessed I am not the best traveler. I have nightmare about planes and the smallest amount of turbulence sends me into a fit and I attract disaster and door frames in the days leading up to a trip but I am going. And I am going to have fun. I better after all this.

My goal is to make it through the rest of today without loosing a limb or a vital organ and hopefully I will see you all in a weeks time.

The DMV Strikes Again

2009-05-22T08:29:00.003-04:00

Well I did it. I now have a learners permit.

I walked into that DMV held held high...well not too high as they might recognize me from the other two times I was escorted out of the DMV. Presented my 15 different types of ID including my library card, cable bill and an offer for a 0% interest credit card from Herbie's Bank and Chicken wings shack and took my test. It was nerve wracking but I sat in my little desk and answered questions about stop signs and yielding and other driving stuff. I waited for the results and then was called to the counter to be told yes indeed I had passed.

I screamed with joy hugged the clerk who almost called security and ran out clutching my new leaner's permit. It may have taken me two tries, being thrown out twice and being told I didn't have enough ID over and over and over again but I did it. I ran gleefully to the elevator when three things stopped me cold :

1. I had just passed a test many 15 year old pass on the first time (it took me two tries Dr. Suzie!). I can hear the jokes now"Oh is it your 16 birthday today I must have forgot."

2. If I passed the actual test I was likely to become every ones personal driver. Oh Mommy could you drive me to soccer? Mom can I go to the mall? Mommy can you drive down town and bail me out of jail it wasn't my fault I swear!

3. If I went to a wedding or party I would likely become the designated driver and never be able to drink and have fun again. Hey Suzie a tequila shot accidentally fell into my mouth i guess your gonna have to drive the three hours back to NYC.

This little piece of paper was no longer my triumph it was a stupid move a dumb move one that would haunt me for all time. First I should have never learned to cook. Second I should have never started cleaning ever. I should have lived in filth until someone other than me learned to clean. The one thing I had going for me was not knowing how to drive and now silly me silly know it all Suzie was now going to do it all.

I hate you DMV! It's all your fault!
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By the way thank you all for your kind thoughts. Having my bloggy friends support is such a wonderful thing. I know this death will take a long time to come to terms with but having a place to vent and laugh is such a valuable thing.

Sadness

2009-05-21T15:23:00.002-04:00

My friend died. He has been my friend since middle school. I loved him I always thought he'd be in my life. I knew he was sick but somehow on emails it just didn't seem so serious. I thought he'd get better I thought we'd hang out dance have fun again. But he died and its so awful I can barely breath. I want to scream and cry and by doing these things I want him to come back and not still be dead. But its pointless no matter what I do he'll be dead. I will never see him again no one will share those memories we shared for all those years with me again. Ill never get those quirky emails again. He'll never meet my kids he'll never see my face and Ill never see his again. Its just so sad. I feel like there is a big hole in my heart. Its raw and ugly and shameful and just so sad.

I have no friends to have a drink with to toast his memory with to tell the old stories to. Everyone is far away and I feel so alone. I don't know what to do and in reality none of it matters because nothing is going to change anyway. It is what it is. Death is final and I just want to go to sleep and wake up and have it all be better but none of that will happen will it.

My Printer Is Possesed

2009-05-19T11:38:00.003-04:00

I HATE MY PRINTER!!! It is a mean ugly printer that is obviously out to get me. Ask me go on ask me what I have been doing for the last two days. Sadly enough I have been trying to get my printer to print. I'm not sure if its having an identity crisis maybe now it thinks it is a bread machine and not a printer maybe that's why it will not print but if that was the case shouldn't I be greeted each morning with a nice sour dough roll or some sliced pumpernickel. I keep waiting but no. My printer does not think it is a bread machine. Maybe it giving me the cold shoulder for some passing cartridge comment. Well printer I didn't mean it. I'm sorry please please print....

Obviously I am loosing it. What gal in her right mind would spend 48 hours trying to fix a misguided printer? What girl would dream solutions in her sleep which would obviously be greeted with failure in the morning when her paper weight of a printer would stare at her in disgust and laugh at her sad attempts at trying to get her to print.

I don't care printer! You wont break me. I am stronger than that.

In other news I am going to the DMV tomorrow. If you turn on your TV tomorrow and see a girl being escorted out of the DMV in a straight jacket with a printer under her arm and laughing hysterically just turn the channel. Please don't watch my shame.

That Shamoo guy

2009-05-14T09:10:00.005-04:00

We have been having a sleep strike in my house. Little S has decided the only way she will sleep if I am in the room. She is very specific as she is the queen of everything and must be obeyed. I must sit on a little blue stool right next to her bed legs in front of me and back turned to her bed. If I fail to disobey in any way ie cross legs or face the wrong way I am rewarded with up to 2 hours of screaming. The type of screaming it is impossible to ignore, watch tv through or have any type of conversation that does not involve saying "Huh? What?" a couple of hundred times.

Now for you first time parents out there I know you are horrified by my ability to let my child scream for an extended period of time (its true I would have never done it with my first) and be so callous as to hold a conversation during it but when the second one comes around you realize as long as they are not bleeding, killing one another with sharp objects or have lost a limb they are fine and crying is not gonna hurt them. That's how I roll anyway.

So after several days of enduring the screaming with no end in sight I enrolled the help of little B. I explained that Little S was very upset about sleeping and could he help. After careful consideration and a few ice pops he agreed.

So I put B to the test and wouldn't you know it within 45 min S was asleep no screaming no muss no fuss. I heard him say things like S I love you but I am very tried so you will have to go to sleep now. And lay down S I'm here with you. I think he sprinkled some fairy dust cast a magic spell and poof she was asleep.

I now know the truth B is blessed with magical sleeping powers. I had no idea he was a sleep guru. That fairy dust magic sleep thing is a gold mine. I now see the possibilities and will be renting him out to do his magic for only $999.99 nightly. I can see it now the shamoo guy trying to hawk little B's sleeping abilities. Maybe a late night infomercial. Watch out QVC here we come!

My Life of Crime

2009-05-08T08:39:00.003-04:00

I was gonna take a bloggy break but then I I went out. I hear the gasps out there. Yes I really went out. Thus here is the after post. Its sort of like the after glow but with typing instead of smoking.

So I went out. We hired a babysitter and everything and went out to a party. OK it really wasn't a party. In fact it was some travel agent event where they tried to hawk expensive vacations that we couldn't afford in a 100 years. But there was free food and drinks so lets call it a party.

So at the party there were tables set up advertising different trips that we would never go on. We walked around and took the small amounts of strange swag they offered. We had luggage locks and bookmarks and even a bandanna. But on this one table they had these banks that were shaped like penguins. They were so cute I could imagine the look of joy on my kids face as I handed them the penguin in the morning. I asked if I could have one but was told no they were just for display.

As the night wore on I got a little tipsy and suddenly that bank looked mighty appealing and before I knew it I had that bank in my grubby little hands. Yes I stole a penguin bank me Suzie the mother, wife and moral compass for the family. I was a thief and whats worse I liked it. I laughed and hid it feeling so bad ass. The old Suzie was back. I was dangerous and wild and the bank was mine. I had done it. I was home free.

When suddenly a hand tapped me on the shoulder.

Give me the bank.

I turned and there was a very angry travel agent stamping her foot in anger and looking like she wanted to kill me.

She grabbed the penguin bank.

Just kidding I stammered.

No you weren't! She said as she walked away in obvious disgust with my thieving ways.

I guess I'm not cut out for a life of crime but for one shining moment that penguin bank was mine...all mine.

Where Have I gone?

2009-05-06T14:51:00.003-04:00

I've been a bad blogger lately. Somehow I seem to have lost the drive, the joy de blogg, the muse of the blogg. There's a lot going on and each day I think today's the day I will blog about my hang nail or today's the day I will complain about my child's complete lack of interest in brushing his teeth but each day I seem to get caught up in this and that and before I know it I'm laying in bed wondering where the day has gone. Its sad but true. I think it happens to all bloggers eventually. Its not like nothing interesting is going on its just hard to keep up with it all and sadly blogging seems to fall to the bottom of the list each day.

What is also hard is enough people I know read this that I have to be careful about what I can say and the idea of self censoring while writing just gets overwhelming. I'm not sure what Ill do about all of this. I guess I'll post when I can and give myself a break if I take a break. Still love you guys and I plan to get back to my bloggyness when I can .

I Should Be Ashamed

2009-05-01T10:21:00.005-04:00

I like to think of myself as a reasonable person. I am polite I try to be nice I dont curse or hit people. I might even be called mild mannered by some. But what most people don't know is that under this seemingly nice exterior is a temper. It doesn't show itself often but something about the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles for you foreign types) unleashes the volcano of anger that has been lying dormant in me for years.

I think it starts when they call me Ma'am. I know it is supposed to be polite but it makes me feel old and something about that ma'am word feels snarky and down right rude.

The next thing is the blank stare they give when the paper work they handed you and told you to fill out is now not the right paper work and they tell you to go stand in another line for the next twelve hours of your life to get another piece of paper.

It is at this point where I snap. I don't even drive but I made myself a promise I would drive by the age of 40. Its down to the wire as I am getting old and I thought (I guess in a naive laughable who do you think you are kind of a way) that getting the learners permit would be about studying and memorizing traffic signs not seeing if I could stop myself from freaking out at a DMV employee who just snapped her gum in my face while announcing that my New York State ID was not good enough proof of ID for New York State.

So I started off my Friday morning the way I did last Friday morning being escorted out of the DMV office by security. Yes, even keeled Suzie cursed and yelled and flailed her arms while screaming at the entire DMV office. Not once but twice!

What can I say.... I guess every superman has his red cryptonite and for sure the DMV is mine.

Day 35

2009-04-28T09:14:00.005-04:00

Day 35. Still no cook hired at work. Day 35 of me, the director doing the cooking for the whole school.

Day 35 shall also be known as the day Suzie the director/cook set a very large pot of rice on fire. Complete with flames and smoke.

And day 35 shall also be known as the day of the tremendous stink.

For those of you who have never set a large pot full of pounds and pounds of rice on fire you are missing out on a very unique smell. The smell is a cross between burnt smell, farts and desperation. It is a smell no matter how you spray or air and area out will never seem to go away.

Its the kind of smell where upon entering the school people stare accusingly at one another and wait for the other to blush.

It is the kind of smell that clings to you and follows you home.

It is the kind of smell that says do not let this women ever cook again. Take away her pot. Take away her serving spoon for the good of mankind.

The smell has spoken...I beg of you people please listen before it is too late.

I Got IT!

2009-04-20T10:17:00.005-04:00

Little S has eczema that seems to flare up for no rhyme or reason. When she gets a flare up we cover the area twice a day with a prescription cream and then smother her in Crisco. I know it sounds crazy but in a day or two it usually goes away.

My hubby on the weekends gives the kids a bath. So I reminded him about using the cream after her bath.

Its in the second draw I reminded him by the diaper rash cream.

Got it he said.

After the bath I heard crying and the sounds of a struggle. I wandered into the bathroom.

He seemed really annoyed and told me I got it! I did it last night it was fine it'll be fine again tonight! She just doesn't like it.

I looked around but the prescription cream was no where in sight.

But honey I don't see the prescription cream just the Crisco. I said trying not to sound like the nagging wife I am. What cream are you using?

The cream from the second draw. He barked at me.

I looked down my crying little baby was completely white like a ghost. She smelled like fish and seemed very put out.

And in my hubby's hand was the diaper rash cream.

Yes my hubby had covered my baby head to toe in destine.

I wondered why it was so hard to spread. He grumbled.

Say It With Shredded Cheese

2009-04-17T08:10:00.000-04:00

I gotta say. There's no use holding back. I'M gonna say it loud and proud... I hate cooking!

Hate it!
Loath it!
Detest it!

So how is it I am now the cook for my kids my husband sometimes even my parents and now MY WORK!!!! OK there's a long story connected with it but suffice it to say the cook she is gone and no one including me wants to be the cook anymore. So rather than let the kids starve. Rather than let the parents complain and relvot I am now up to my elbows in baby bottles and graham crackers.

Not to sound like the guy on Star Trek but I'm a doctor not a cook dammit!

In this job as daycare director I have drained radiators, killed large bugs, unblocked toilets. I even held a girls arm on as part of it dangled off after falling off the jungle gym. I did this all gladly with a smile on my face (except for the last one cause that would just be sick) but making macaroni and cheese for 56 ungrateful kids and teachers...NO! I say NO!

Why why did I go to school for a million years to get my PhD? Go into debt with school loans? Was it to spill someone else's breast milk all over my suit jacket? Was it so I could make 56 pita pizzas?

No!

In fact I just threw a fit with shredded cheese that left me embarrassed and slimy. And why? Cause I don't wanna be the cook anymore!

I hate it!

I hate it!

I hate it!

...anyone need a job?

Grandpa's House

2009-04-13T12:42:00.004-04:00

I just came back from a few days in Philly visiting my folks with the kids for Passover (my favorite holiday!). For little B it is better than Disney Land. He and his Grandpa spend hours jumping on the bed and causing mayhem in the house. He believes his Grandpa is 4 years old and just an over sized kid (maybe he has some glandular problem that makes him so tall but B is just too polite to ask) and a great play mate.

The trip always ends with B saying can we please stay here forever?

I love this relationship It is sweet and wonderful and it makes my heart swell with love for both of them but no matter what by the time we leave B has infected my (not four year old father) with something awful. B sniffles and slimes on his grandpa and this time he even threw up on him. So its not surprise that as we leave my father sniffs not only with remorse at seeing his little play mate leave but with the first symptoms of the tropical illness B has infected him with.

My Dad is in his 70's although he's a strapping guy he's eligible for free bus rides and discount movie tickets. Age does not make these icky childhood illnesses any fun at all. So I have the impulse to wrap B is plastic wrap and fit my father with a plastic bubble so I would not have to wait for my mom to call and say the inevitable.

Your father is sick....he's not a young man you know.... (insert pause for guilt and foot taping)

So when B asks Can we stay here forever the answer is no you little pattrie dish! Not this year. Now get your finger out of your nose!

So Sorry

2009-04-07T08:58:00.002-04:00

I'M not trying to ignore you guys. You know I wouldn't. I love my bloggy friends but lately Ive barely had a chance to clip my toe nails let alone blog or even read blogs.

Each morning I wake up to some kind of crisis. Whether its wet sheets water bugs or nightmares. What would a morning be without doing excessive laundry, nose wiping and monster chasing

Give BOTH kids asthma treatments. Yes my kids never do anything easily why do once when it is so much more fun to have both kids get morning asthma attacks at the same time and vie for the one machine we have in the house. Yes I lost the other machine. I don't know where it disappeared into the wear house of stuff I call my house.

Get to work and cook for 56 kids. Yes while the cook is on leave I am now the cook. I have set oven mitts on fire and burned waffles but still they let me cook aren't I lucky.

Change 26 kid's diapers. Make 46 baby bottles.

Deal with crazy staff members. Deal with crazy kids. File, stamp, and do the Hokey Pokey.

Go home cook for the kids clean the house, bathe the kids set up everything for the morning.

Put kids to bed cook for hubby.

Fall into stupor

Wake up do it again.

So I am a little overwhelmed right now. But don't worry my Bloggy friends as soon as I've found time to take care of my luxuriously long toe nails, and maybe find some time to brush my teeth I shall be back to posting a little more frequently until then....Arghhhhhh!!!!

My Baby is A Genius!

2009-04-03T08:24:00.001-04:00

You know me. I'm not one of those parents who gloss over the hard stuff I can be cynical even a little sarcastic at times when talking about parenting. But something happened today that made me the sappiest, gushiest most over the top mommy ever. My little boy my sweet little baby wrote his name for the first time.

He just sat down and boom there it was.

So I did what any other reasonable person would do. I snatched it out of his hands ran into my office and promptly burst into tears. After that I called his Dad his Grandma and Grandpa and all of my in laws. Then I emailed every relative yes, even Aunt Carol who has never liked me since that grilled cheese incident of 74 (just don't ask) yes, even Aunt Carol received an email with an attachment containing in high definition and a ridiculously huge size (so one can study it if need be) my baby's first writing of his name.

After I was done with that I went on Face book and posted my sons crayon masterpiece that proves he is not just any four year old he is a super genius ready for early college admissions with the beautiful writing of his name.

I stopped myself from running out of work and having the paper laminated and framed so upon my death bed I could gaze at his first name printing and cry with joy at my wonderful son who could do no wrong ever for any reason (shhh...I'm having a moment)

So for now I will bathe in the glory that is my sons first writing of his name and hope my tears of joy do not smear the wonderful red crayon that spelled his wonderful amazing name.

...Maybe I should lay off the caffeine for a while too.

The Shoe Shop of Doom!

2009-03-30T09:34:00.003-04:00

This weekend my son had a growth spurt. Not the normal one where he grows a little at a time but one where he woke up in the morning and nothing fit. Not his underwear, pants or even his shoes. So my Sunday was spent running around with a four year and my 17 month old trying to buy a whole new wardrobe. We were doing OK until we hit the shoe shop.

The shoe shop is my traditional place of hell. I am not one of those women who lust after shoes. I hate them and more than hating shoes I hate shopping for them. As a kid my mother and I always had our most impressive fights in the shoe shop. I vividly recall her threatening me with a pair of high heeled shoes as she waved it above my head and not so calmly discussed my dating choices.

So we got to the shoe shop and B immediately went for the pink light up Hannah Montana shoes.

I want these mommy.

Sorry sweety I said calmly putting them back and looking at the boys shoes, We need to find shoes that you can wear to shoes. These brown ones are nice.

NOOOOO!!!!! I want the Hannah Montana shoes! I WANT EM! I DO MOMMYYYYY!!!!

But sweety...

Suddenly I was hit in the head by a pair of red pump.

Hannah Montana Mommy!!!!!

A pair of spiked boots came flying at my head.

My little S was armed and was lobbing shoes at my head as fast as a malfunctioning batting cage.

NOT THE BROWN ONES!!!!! I WANT PINK!!!!!!!!

I ducked as a pair of ballet flats connected with my head.

Not the brown mommy!!! NO!!!!! I WANT THE PINK LIGHT UP HANNA MONTANA SHOES! NOW!!!!!! WAAAA!!!!!!!!

I picked up my children one under each arm and ran up the stairs to the check out (Yes the sadists keep the children's section in the basement) leaving the wreckage and the pink light up Hanna Montana shoes and a pile of shoe missiles behind us.

He better not grow anymore for a while otherwise we will be practicing the art of foot binding...or my husband can take them. Either one.

I Saw It

2009-03-25T11:08:00.003-04:00

I did it I joined the ranks of millions of teenage girls and I rented Twilight. I could only watch first half but I think being exposed to that film for a good hour makes me a total expert in teenage girls and today's youth. This is what I've discovered about the youth of today.

Teen aged girls love boys with waxed eye brows this is also true of the Jonas brothers who my husband went to the bathroom with and found himself totally intimidated by their scarily perfect eyebrows.

Teen aged girls do not suddenly discover their hip hurts while they are watching the movie and excuse themselves at totally the best part to pop Advil and grab a heating pad

Teen aged girls love boys with lots and lots of make up including eye brow pencil, lots of mascara and plenty of lipstick.

Teen agers are still as mopey and distant as I was when I was 17.

Teen aged girls need to be locked away until adult hood for their own good because not only do they always want the boy who is the worst choice (I mean the guys dead and has to stop himself from eating her or goodness sake) but they go out with guys who are way too old for them (Like 130 years to old for them. What do these two have to talk about anyway? She grew up watching Dora and he grew up watching fire. I'm sure these two would have some really fascinating conversations)

Teen aged girls do not stop the movie when Edward and Bella are holding hands and he 's a glowy and cute and go to bed at 9pm cause they have a big day tomorrow

So that is my take on todays youth. Excuse me while I skip the rest of the film and go find the strongest lock made to get ready for Little S teen age years.

It All Starts Here

2009-03-23T10:02:00.003-04:00

Today's the day in 15 min I leave to register my Little B in kindergarten. I didn't sleep at all last night. Instead of catching some zzz instead I chose to freak out. As I lay there time began to speed up. First B was in kindergarten cute and little holding my hand. Then I sped right past first grade second grade. In fact I zipped past middle school entirely and found myself slamming into his high school years.

I saw B as a surly teenager. Where all he did was hang out with his friends play video games and was hell to be around. I found myself questioning everything. Will he hate me will he be as bad as I was at that age? Will he never snuggle with me again?

And then when he finally recovers from his teenage years I wont be able to reap the benefits. Because then he'll find his life partner and he'll just call me every once in a while when he feels guilty and I will just miss him so much my heart will break.

So I guess I am officially a mess. So here I go setting my child on the road to life.

I need a hug...

or a big sandwich

Tooting the Night Horn

2009-03-20T09:00:00.003-04:00

Last night I was sleeping quietly when what sounded like a loud car back fire woke me up. I sat up in bed wondering what was going on was it a car a gun the start of some night time race when I heard it again. This time it was clear that was no car back firing that was the sound of the passing of some serious wind. I looked accusingly at my hubby as he slept on as innocent as a lamb.

Well! I thought there goes the romance. We've never been the kind of couple to cut the cheese freely in front of one another. We've never even used the bathroom in front of one another and as far as I know he may have never answered natures call in his life. (Hey don't judge. After witnessing child birth twice you do what you can to keep the mystery alive.)

I was catapulted out of my thoughts when suddenly it sounded. The passing of wind this time as a long scary musical note followed by some little toots and a loud thunderous clap.

I was shocked. It came form the wrong direction. It was near my side of the bed. I looked around for someone else to blame.

There's no dog anymore it couldn't be him.

Is it me?

Am I the nocturnal farter? Am I the one tooting the night horn?

Once again the bottom trumpet was sounded.. and it wasnt me of that I was sure. I felt no rumbling, no gust of air. It was... the baby monitor.

My beautiful little S was the midnight tooter. Yes my tiny little girl was sleeping bottom up and was creating such a noise that even my son stirred.

Strangly enough I found I was proud. Yup, my little girl may be tiny, she may not even be on the weight and height charts but her powerful gas cried out I am here! I count! I am a powerful gassy being!

Hey, I'm a mom I take pride where I can get it...shesh

The Beast Returns

2009-03-17T08:59:00.005-04:00

The evil beast that had previously possessed my son seems to have jumped ship and is now residing in my daughter. I began to realize it during the last few days when she began throwing temper tantrums of such magnitude that even dogs stop and stare at my daughters high pitched shenanigans.

A wonderful example of this was yesterday at work. Work is tense to say the least. Parents are loosing their jobs by the dozens and tempers are high. It was the end of a particularly tense day and I was very glad to be on my way home. Little S toddled out of her classroom looking so cute with a big smile of her face. I gave her a hug and when I went to put on her coat the beast emerged.

She began screaming and kicking and crying and howling. I put her down on the floor and the real show began. She arched her back, kicked and flailed. Parents craned their necks to see who the bad parent was with the insane child and low and behold it was me. Dr. Mom who is supposed to be a child expert helplessly watching her daughter go insane in the hallway. Even B stood watching his mouth open in awe and horror at the beast which used to be his sister.

Now I'm just waiting for the projectile vomiting and her using telepathy to push a man of the cloth out the window and well be all set.

My Daughter Has Skills

2009-03-13T08:26:00.004-04:00

I don't know if I should write about this but I am impressed with my daughters ingenuity. So please dear readers do not be offeneded but as you know my kids are a little on the gross side.

Dinner was not a big success at my house last night. After they were done throwing the dinner of rice and sloppy Joe's around the cries of I'm still hungry echoed through my kitchen. In response I gave my son and daughter four pretzels each (a very big treat). They were thrilled and ran around in pretzel joy.

After a little while it was bath time. Little S stood up and looked very uncomfortable and started crying and patting herself. Finally she sat down and plop plop plop the pretzels popped to the surface. Apparently she had stored her pretzels for later like a little drug mule. Don't ask me how she did it. But yes she did. She grabbed the pretzels and shoved them in her mouth and was very unhappy with the results.

Well with the way her college fund is doing these days I think training in the drug mule business might not be such a bad idea. Hey at least she has skills.

My Eye Hurts

2009-03-11T08:43:00.004-04:00

My eye hurts. I don't know why. I just woke just this morning and there it was stinging away. Now I am not the sort of person to get crazy about small things. I'm just a go with the flow type of gal. Its a good thing I'm not one of those crazy nuts who blow everything out of proportion because if I was these are some things I might have thought happened to my peeper:

I was abducted by aliens and they implanted a chip in my eye so they could find me later. Hey its better than the anal probe.
I scratched my eye during a fight with a vampire. After the fight my memory was erased so I would not tell anyone of their secret lair.
I'm actually a super hero while I sleep and I wear colored contacts to hide my secret identity. They make my eyes ache sometimes but saving those puppies and seven babies was totally worth it.
During the night a fertile bug deposited eggs in my Corina. In a few weeks they will hatch like the movie aliens and take over the earth
I'm possessed and the demon is trying to get out through my eye
The kids did something bad bad bad
Because of fear of the recession unbeknowst to me my hubby rents out my eyes while I sleep to make some extra cash. The person who used it last night was not careful and scratched it He will not be getting his security deposit back.

Its probably nothing. I'll just be wearing tin foil on my head and locking my door at night until I know for sure.

It Just Might Make Me Grumpy

2009-03-09T09:13:00.008-04:00

I hate daylight savings time. Its disturbing. Getting up at 5:40am when you know its really 4:30am just throws me and makes me grumpy.

You know what else is disturbing and makes me grumpy. Going to your regular Mexican fast food joint and as you order seeing a toddler in a pink princess dress wandering through the kitchen on the other side of the cash register.

You know what make me even more grumpy is realizing that that toddler in the pink princess dress is your baby who your husband is supposed to be watching while you get the food.

Not that that happened on Sunday. Not my husband no way! He would never fail to realize that his baby in the pink princess dress had left the table wandered into a restaurant kitchen causing kitchen wide panic as the restaurant workers tried to stop my little girl from making her way to a large vat of guacamole in the back of the kitchen to stick her hand in it. Nor would he ever completely forget that we have two children who need consent supervision and become so engrossed in a set of instructions to build a balsa wood airplane that he would allow both children to wander freely through out the restaurant giving his son time to shove eight lemon slices with rind into his mouth while no one watched.

That same man would not look at me shrug and say I thought you had it covered. Nope cause that would make me mighty grumpy. Uh huh....

Where Out Thou Oh Hoagie?

2009-03-06T08:32:00.004-05:00

Its sad I am truly obsessed with a sandwich. I think about it all of the time I even dream about it. Its not just any sandwich its an Italian Hoagie from my home town of Philadelphia.

The anti kosher nastiness that makes you feel bloated for hours afterwards. It stains your clothes and makes your breath smell bad. But its so worth it. I've been obsessed with men I did the teenage stalking thing but this this is different. This sandwich has invaded my thoughts, my dreams. Any food does not hold a candle to it.

Why not just eat one you may ask? Because my sandwich is 97.12 miles away (Yes I map quested it). I tried to bribe my Dad who lives in Philly to fed ex me the sandwich he laughed and explained the bread would never hold up. I explained to him I would take that risk but alas no. No sandwich will be forthcoming.

I guess the fact I am dieting has something to do with it. Nothing that hasn't been weighed measured critiqued and fussed over ever enters my stomach. But this sandwich with its mayonnaise and vinegar soaked bread would have me throwing my scales and measuring cups out the window if only for a moment of its time.

I mean just look at it.

Its tempting luncheon meat, its soggy soaked bread. Who wouldn't rather spend a good 10 min with this sandwich than doing any thing else. Yes you heard me right I would rather have 10 min alone with this sandwich than 10 min alone with Brad Pitt (Unless he was holding this sandwich during that time for me to snack upon).

I don't think I have ever been this obsessed with food let alone a sandwich. I wish I could forget, think about something else. But alas it is no use.

So unless Brad shows up soon my Dad gives in and mails me sandwich or the tooth fairy stops delivering quarters and leaves a sandwich under my pillow instead I guess I am doomed to eat my diet food and wait until I can see my love again...someday.

A Blood Thirsty Sandwich

2009-03-04T08:48:00.003-05:00

I planned to blog about my favorite sandwich the Philadelphia hoagie which I am now truly obsessing on. Yes I think about this sandwich I dream about it. It has taken over my mind. I mean look at this thing.

But this morning something so crazy, so mind bending occurred that the sandwich actually took a back seat and instead I will blog about my sweet little blood thirsty child named Little S.

Yes this morning I learned that my beautiful little S is a horrible hulking monster. Yes a snarling beast. You may think I am exaggerating or being a bad mom but you did not witness the rage fulled babyness which I call S.

I began innocently enough it was a normal Wednesday. We had arrived at school and S was covered in snot. You see S has a perpetual runny nose. She is very cute but is constantly dripping snot. When it gets really bad she points to the snot and says eyes eyes eyes until someone hands her a tissue (Yes she is a little confused but she's 16 months hopefully by the times she's in high school she will have gotten this one straight)

So she's walking around the classroom saying eyes and I give her big brother B a tissue to hand to her. Instead of giving her the tissue he holds it over her head and starts to mock her eyes eyes he says in a baby voice. S leaps for it but she is too short. She shreiks she whines. She squeezes her little fists together but nothing seems to work.

Suddenly she lunges at her brother locking her teeth into his back. The next thing I know she is crying and biting and snotting on him. I pull her off of him and she lunges again biting into his back once again. I pry her little mouth off of him. She is wild and flailing trying to take a hunk out of her brother. She is out for blood and hysterical. Limbs flaying I take her out of the room. She is sobbing shouting eyes eyes and gnashing her little teeth together. After several minutes of hysteria she starts to calm down. I hand her a tissue and she looks up at me smiling and says Tank oo (S for thank you) in her sweet little baby voice.

I am not fooled. Today I have learned my baby is a vicious blood thirsty child....

I still want that sandwich though.

Snow Day

2009-03-02T07:38:00.004-05:00

Its a snow day and instead of being asleep in my cosy bed I pushed my stroller through the fresh snow sweating and grunting along the way and lugged my family to work. Why you may ask? Good question. Well,I needed to let everyone know school was closed, feed the hamsters and fish and return a few emails...

OK that's all an excuse.

Here the truth Ruth.

The idea of spending another full day with my wonderful little kiddies alone trapped alone in the house for the day put me in such a panic I would have gotten here if giants had been lobbing boulders from the sky. I would have lugged my stroller here if bats had filled the street with a sea of guano.

Yup, its true.

I know I will have to go home eventually. I know I will have to face the stir crazy kids who will become truly scary at 4pm when the idea of spending one more hour with each other and me will make them scarier than a cat in a washing machine, then a four day old tuna fish sandwich in July then Dolly Parton first thing in the morning with no make up (sorry Dolly).

I know. I fear.

But for now...I have work to do.

I Hate My Scale

2009-02-27T08:52:00.006-05:00

Its official I am obsessed with my scale.

Its a love hate obsession kind of thing. It sits by the side of my toilet mocking me calling to me. It says weigh yourself you know you want to. I resist its evil call NO I think I will only weigh myself once a week but each morning I give in.

I get up strip down and step upon its silver footprints. It lies says one weight, them another. I reposition my feet hoping to see that first weight the lower one. I stand on one foot then the other I turn around and yet it lies again telling a completely new weight a bigger one. I know I would stand on my hands if that would help.

It laughs at me.

Ha ha says my scale. You are my puppet I will now pull your strings. I try to break away I put the scale back. The next thing I know it is out again and I have moved it to a new location one where it will surely tell me a skinnier weight (yes, I remember now this is the skinny place) and it does briefly before once again flashing an entirely new weight. I get upset and prepare to step off when it flashes a weight completely unrelated a goal weight it knows I long to see.

Yes I think Ill take that weight.

I put the scale away. Get the kids dressed drink some coffee and find nature calling me. As soon as I finish I see the scale calling me again.

Come on it beckons you must have lost a few ounces at least. Now you'll get to see what you really weigh.

No I think this is crazy. I will not fall for your erratic numbers I am too strong.

Before I know what has happened I am naked again staring at the digital read out hoping to see a dainty weight
my high school weight
he weight of Kira Knightly after a very large sandwich.

Instead suddenly I find I weight three pounds more.

Disgusted I step away vowing tomorrow I will not be your fool you evil scale. But as I close the bathroom door I swear I can hear evil laughter.

And The Cow Goes Moo

2009-02-25T08:42:00.003-05:00

Work once again is getting in the way of my blogging. Its not like its fun work things like going to the zoo or eating ice cream. Nope its annoying stressful work things. Who would have thought the world of early childhood would be as high stress as it is. Someday it is down right cut throat, high stress unpleasantness.

Its not like I am working in a roller derby where you are aware the other gal in the ring is mean and ornery and wants to knock you on your butt.

Its not like I am a pirate in search of gold and treasure knowing one day my looting and pillaging may to a public hanging or mutiny.

Nope I am an early childhood administrator. A gal who turned her back on the glamor of the stage (Yes, I was once a cow on Broadway. You should have heard my heartfelt mooing. The reviewers just loved me.) Instead I shunned all of that and focused my life on trying to help families and kids.

And I gotta tell you some days I think I need hazard pay. I suggested turning the filling cabinet into a relaxation spa with masseuses and a harpist or a small beach resort to help deal with the stress but unfortunately that seems a little hard to budget (would that fit under office supplies or misc).

But I have lots of faith in Wednesday. Its gonna be better than the last few days. It has too otherwise I am going to invest in a new cow costume.

Guess Who I Saw

2009-02-23T08:40:00.005-05:00

I had so many blog plans toady. I was gonna write about a party I had where many of the people in attendance I recently re found via facebook and how strange and wonderful the experience was. I was gonna write about how Little B watched Bolt and freaked out and wandered the house in fear of some red eyed girl for 24 hours. But instead I had an experience this morning that knocked it all out of the water.

Getting B out of the house this morning was not easy. I felt like a record on repeat (for those of you young ens a record is a black piece of vinyl with music etched into its grooves used in ancient Rome). I said B get you glove B get your gloves until it sounded like BGETOURGLOVES BGETGLOVES BGEGL...... So we left the house and not only did B not have his gloves but neither did Little S. S was crying and B was chanting that his hands hurt. I stopped the stroller to stick my gloves on them while yelling at B he should have brought his gloves when I look up and who do you think is staring at me?

KATIE HOLMES!!!!

Yup Tom Cruise's wife is staring at B with a big smile on her face. I stared and turned bright red and tried to pretend I was not just yelling at my children. She waved at B and walked away.

I think I am a celebrity now by association. Soon I will have paparazzi chasing me down. Can't a girl even go to the store without all the flashbulbs? I will say. Soon Ill be wearing big dark sunglasses as I make my way down the red carpet.

Yes Katie Holmes and I shared something special...not sure what but it sure was exciting.

Sometime I just love New York.

An Infomercial of Lies

2009-02-19T08:48:00.000-05:00

Last night B was on a screaming jag. For some reason he was very worked up that the water next to his bed that I had just poured was not fresh. So he sat in his bed crying and screaming at the top of his lounges scaring the poor baby out of her skull. I offered to change it for him I offered to have him change it. I held him I rocked him. I yelled I threatened but to no avail.

So my hubby and I sat in the living room listening to the screaming trying not to freak out while playing with the TV volume so we could hear anything above the ear splitting screams. When suddenly we heard:

Are your children making you crazy?
We both turned drawn to the magical voice on the TV

Do you feel like you are living in a battle zone?

We both nodded in unison. Eyes wide

Are you sick of the back talking, arguing? Do you wish you could just have your sweet child back?

Yes Yes ! We chanted

We have the solution to bring peace back to your family again.

We grabbed each others hands nodding and smiling. Yes they have the solution it will all be OK.

Just call 1-888-badkid

Before I knew what I was doing I had grabbed the phone. I dialed I knew would do anything they said military school, join the Moonies or shave my head. Heck I'd even launch him into space.

Hello you've reached 1-888-badkid are you ready to bring peace to your home?

We are! We shouted. We Are!

Are you ready to be friends with your child and stop the shouting and end the threats?

We are! We are!

So how old is your teenager?

ummm..4

Oh umm this program is for 12-18 year olds.

...damn.

..probably couldn't afford it anyway

Sick But Skinnyish

2009-02-17T08:56:00.004-05:00

I'm back.

Sorry I've been a way so long but once again I've been sick.

My throat was filled with puss and I felt just awful. But I'm OK now. This has been a strange winter. I'm the type that never gets sick and now twice in almost 30 days I am laid up with just gross awful sicknesses. Nothing major just the kind that lands you flat on your back for a good week.

I hate being sick. Housework doesn't stop and the kids seem to need more attention than normal especially if you cant lift your head off the pillow. Hubby was great and really helped out but still.

However there are a couple of really good things about the winter germs. The best part is I lost another 10 pounds! Two illness later I am twenty pounds thinner. I was thinking about getting my own site and adverting loosing 20 pounds in 30 days through the www.rentmygermykidsforaday.com. Since I've poured through all of my sick days for the year I'm going to need the extra income if anyone else decides to get sick this year.

The other good thing is I have lots of good fodder for the blog. In my head I've been blogging away. Boy I was witty and insightful I had 45 comments. I think I won a few awards and was nominated for something. It was great.

So I hope you all haven't forgotten about me. If I could have sat up I totally would have been commenting away on your bloggs. I'm going there now and I promise I have some great insightful...OK I promise to blow you away with my witty wise ....Ok I promise to do the silly word recognition thing on your sites and try it at least twice before I give up and storm away.

Keep healthy

Its Not Fair

2009-02-11T09:20:00.003-05:00

I'm so sick.

I am unable to function. I'm not sure why I'm here at work maybe just to spread the germs around so they wont be lonely.

I think we should start charging tuition for germs as they seem to spend more time at school then the kids do.

I know I should have called in sick but everyone else did.

So here I am spreading my germs. Unable to talk. Wanting to lay on my bed and Watch Big Love.

Sometimes I really hate being a grown up.

My Own Little Typhoid Mary

2009-02-09T08:51:00.003-05:00

Its been some weekend. Everyone has been sick. Our little typhoid Mary otherwise known as Little S has been spreading her sea of germs wither and yon. One cough and she has spread her plague throughout the land. She herself seems to be fine expect for the pool of green snot that is constantly collecting below her nose.

My husband is the worst off. A little kiss snotty from his cute little baby and he has a full blown case of bronchitis. She leaves him laying in a ball moaning in pain.

I thought as a long time daycare director I could not be effected by her germs. I've gone years without so much as a cold. But little did I know that S has super germs capable of stopping a rhino in its tracks and cause it to spontaneously develop a serious case of pink eye. So I too have been effected. As I sit her now I am fighting giving into the throws of a flu she has given to me with her snotty sweet little hands.

Little B isn't much better although his illnesses seem to be shorter in duration then his grown up counterparts. However the whinnying created from the short lived illnesses are enough to drive even the strongest to his knees. Cries of MOMMY I WANT AN ICE POP NOW!!!!! I DON'T FEEL GOOD I NEED AN ICE PACK!!!! WAAAAAA!!! Seem to do more damage than little S's plague ridden hugs.

I've considered putting her in a bigger version of one of those hamster balls to help protect us for her evil germs. I even considered a suit made of plastic wrap and helmet. But I think at least for now we must accept the fact that our darling little daughter is really a germ factory waiting to infect us all.

Tales Of The Toilet Seat

2009-02-06T10:26:00.003-05:00

Yesterday I went to the gym. Before I went out on the floor I thought I would stop and have a potty break. (Yes it is that kind of a post) I opened one of the stalls and was greeted with a toilet seat covered in pee. Yuck, I thought how gross. I shut the door. I opened the next stall and was assaulted by yet another pee pee covered seat. I went to the next and the next all the toilets were covered with the stuff.

I wonder how something like that happens. How do women who are designed to sit upon a seat manage to pee all over them? I doubt a man snuck into the women's locker room just to pee all over the seats. My four year old could be responsible as he has some terrible aim but as far as I know he doesn't go to my gym (unless he is doing so behind my back) so that rules him out.

Perhaps a women is trying to perfect peeing her name in the snow and is trying out her technique in the women's locker room on all of the toilets.

Maybe a giant pee monster escaped from the monster jail and is getting revenge and mistook the women's locker room for his captors home.

Whatever it is that peed all over the toilet seats in the locker room I must say I am impressed. If it had just hit one toilet I would have shrugged it off. But to hit all six shows it has some stamina and a very large bladder.

Good for you super bladder creature! Good for you!

Wisdom According to B

2009-02-04T08:50:00.003-05:00

Since many of you did not appreciate the intellectual debate on Blues Clues. And many of you claimed not to watch Blues Clues at all due to silly reason such as not having young children and the like. I shall resort instead to child spoken wisdom. Although it breaks my heart not to include any references to children's show references or post any Sportacus pictures.

So this is for you my Blues Clues deprived bloggy friends:

You can never have enough chocolate milk

Mommy is not old (my favorite)

Grandpa is not 72 he is 4 years old

Jumping on the bed will solve everything

People live in the TV they are very small though

Its not picking your nose its just stracting the inside of your nose which is totally fine.

When you die you get up again a little bit later and you are OK

The two invisible cats with rainbows on their tummy's are responsible for all broken things

But the most important wisest thing ever said is....

wait for it....

You must wash never wash your bottom with a wash cloth before you wash your face.

Truer words have never been said

So sue me. I had to. He's just so cute

I Think Youre All A little Sick

2009-02-02T10:57:00.013-05:00

I am disturbed.

Last Friday I posted a picture of this man:

Sportacus.

As you know I love Sportacus. I get it maybe he's not every ones type even though in reality he looks like this:
Ah huh yeah...

But I was amazed. Yes, I will go so far as to say I was shocked concerning the conversation about Blues clues.

How could so many of you pine for Steve? When he has been replaced with Joe

Just look at this beefy guy. He's cute funny and he looks good in a sweater.

Where as Steve is umm Steve.

Now many of you said I need to get out more. That may be true. Maybe its a little sad to be debating who is hotter Steve or Joe. Maybe it takes a sick mind to fantasize about Sportacus while my kids hit each other with blocks.

But at least we are not debating Franklin

vs

Little Bear

Now that would be sick.

Although Little Bear would totally win hands down

Must Be A Kid Thing

2009-02-02T08:59:00.005-05:00

As it was a long and whiny weekend I made sure the kids went to bed on the early side. I think the bed time is a bit too early for B but he can play as long as he doesn't wake the baby or leave the room.

Last night after about an hour I checked on the kids and saw this:

Warning: This is a reenactment. B does not becomes green and rips his shirt when angry. Well at least not in the past two months or so.

There was B playing happily.

About an hour later I heard a thump.

When I walked in I saw this. He just played until he fell.

I tried to imagine that happening to me.

Oh blogging is so much fun. Wordless Wednesday Weee!!! Cant wait to post this Barbie photo..zzzz

I love standing in line for the post office. This is so great. Must get additional postage...zzzz

This is the best sandwich must put on mustard please pass the mayo...zzzzz

Nope. Must be a kids thing.

Not At All Wordless Friday

2009-01-30T09:22:00.000-05:00

Since yesterday was such a bad day I thought I would post about something that is near and dear to my heart.

Sportacus

I love him so.

Ok I hear you saying yuck but your wrong. No yucky guy could do this

In case you dont know this guy he is Sportacus the lead hot guy in the kids show Lazy Town. At first I didnt notice him. All I heard was the singing and general high pitched sounds that acompany kids shows but then he did a flip and I was hooked.

Ahh Sportacus. Its been so long since I've seen you. I think they have moved your time slot. Its been too long since I have gazed upon your bulding bisept.

Sponge Bob will never be able to hold a candle to you

The Walk

2009-01-29T08:57:00.004-05:00

This morning B woke up with a big smile on his face.

Mommy he announced I am going to walk to school today.

Terrific I thought. I have a 50 pound bag of sand to bring to school (Yes I have big bags of sand in my apartment.) I can finally get rid of it and bring it to school in the stroller.

B put on his red car boots.

Mommy I am going to wear my boots and walk all the way to school

Great.

So I get them dressed they eat breakfast while talks about his monumental trip 6 blocks to school.

They put on their coats

I put baby S in the stroller

I put the 50 pound bag of sand in the stroller

were off

As we reach the corner B begins to cry.

Mommy I don't want to walk anymore

Sweety you're doing a great job and I have a 50 pound bag of sand in there. You'll have to walk

MOOOOOOOOMMMMYYYY I don't want to walk! ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Sweetie, please walk I can't carry a 50 pound bag of sand and push the stroller

I don't want to walk! ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

B you need to calm down

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! I don't wanna walk! Waaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!

B please

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

OK I'm counting to ten

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! I don't wanna walk! Waaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!

People walk by and shake their heads. I feel the need to shout "You handle it then Mr or Mrs. Perfect Parent cause I'm trying my best!" But I don't.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! I don't wanna walk! Waaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!

I try to breath slowly while pushing the incredible heavy stroller dragging along my hysterical child and try very hard not to:

scream (I wanna I really wanna)
freak out (which I am..inside)
slap him upside his head (which would be bad but very satisfying)

Mommmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Waaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!

B I start to get a little louder. Cut it out. Its not far to school

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! I don't wanna walk! Waaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!

B STOP IT RIGHT NOW!!

He pauses looks at me looks at the stroller....

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! I don't wanna walk! Waaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!! Mommmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Waaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!

I think I'm done having children. Two is my max

Check please

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I just thought I'd add this in as I am feeling a bit needy right now.

I don't know what it is but I am really loosing it today. I don't know if it was the walk with my rotten I mean lovely son or work stress but today I just wanna cry or scream. Every time I turn around it seems to be another crisis and I've had it. I want to run away and pull the covers up.

I'm upset

I'm sad

I'm very stressed out

Just thought I'd complain.

Thanks

Oh NO! Not Another Meme

2009-01-28T09:20:00.009-05:00

I have been tagged. I'm not a good meme person. I tend to take the awards and run but since I've been tagged with this thing repeatedly I thought I would do it.

Rules:
Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you. If I didn't it's probably because I just didn't feel like bothering you. (p.s. I didn't write this.)

I have a cut on my finger that is driving me crazy. I have covered it with several Dora Band aids but it has not helped.
I keep a switch blade in the draw by my bed. Its true I do. You never know when you can foil an alien abduction. So I am prepared
I like eggs but they creep me out a little. I always feel like I may end up munching on a baby chicken.
I used to be really scared of statues. Especially Greek and Roman ones. I'm better now
I love the number 5. Its even hidden in the tattoo on my shoulder.
I have a cut on another finger it does not have a band aid on it cause I'm tough.
I was signed up to be on the space shuttle. They took me off the list when I turned thirty. It hurt.
I feel I am slowly turning into my mother.
I am addicted to chap stick. Its embarrassing. I can't seem to get through a conversation without lathering the stuff on.
I also have a cut on my hand. It hurts too. Once again no band aid. Your impressed right?
The only time I've been away from the kids over night was when I was in labor with my second baby.
I've have had some spicy fantasies about Sporticus from Lazy Town. He's HOT!!!!
I don't know how to drive
I'm going to learn how to drive this year. If I can find my social security card, renew my passport and pass the test.
I've never been on a motorcycle.
I love to read crap. Paranormal Romance is my drug of choice.
Geese make me nervous. They are really big and I feel like if one runs at you they all will and you will be doomed!
I hate Swiss cheese
The band aid on my finger is wet and its not really helping much.
I am a good cook. I am! Don't look at me that way. Its just that sometimes I choose not to be.
I smoked for 10 years now even the smell makes me want to hurl.
I am very good at dreaming. If there was a contest for the best dream maker upper it would be me and I would win the prize.
Mirrors creep me out. I am always afraid my reflection is doing its own thing or someone else will be looking back at me.
I am sure I wont think of 25 things boy 25 is a whole lot of stuff to think of. I think 24 is pretty impressive.
I did it 25!!!! Last fact... umm...I love dry gin martinis!!!!
Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

So that is my list and here is my award.

And here are the people that are going to groan and say, "Oh no not a meme. Arghhhhhhh"

Tag you're it!

Ren
The Mrs.
Debbie
honeywine
Kristin H
Erin, Nick and Merrick
Kmommy
Cat

Queen-Size funny bone
Kate Coveny Hood
Not Your Aunt Bea
Sarah
My Wonderful Men
Susan
tiff
adrienne
Heidi
Rebecca Ramsey

Mark
WillThink4Wine
Heather
April
Chimera
TattingChic
forgetfulone

Juggs, Boobies and Bosom

2009-01-26T09:02:00.005-05:00

My son has become obsessed with my boobs. He wants to look touch and talk about them all the time. I have no idea why. I know I am one sexy mama but really this is nuts.

When he was younger he was a non discriminate boob feeler. He would toddle around and suddenly it was like someone turned on a large magnet. His little hand would fly across the room making a B line for the closet pair of boobies he could find. It was embarrassing but since he was so cute he'd get giggles and some awws. Luckily this habit stopped around two when the sticky finger factor began to loose its charm.

Or so I thought.

Now being with him is like being on a date in high school. I am constantly fending off the roaming hand. We are sitting down watching TV he snuggle up he gets closer and closer until I feel a little hand slowly worming its way down my shirt. I pull his hand out. I talk to him about boundaries he nods looks serious and then a few minutes later I feel that cold little hand again stealing down my top.

The conversations are also a little uncomfortable. We were walking down the street and he said Lets run Mommy. Oh wait you cant your boobies are too big. Or as he shouted out in Wallgreens the other day. Mommy I love your boobies!

Thanks babe.

I hope this is not setting the tone for the rest of his life. I can imagine him running up the tab on magazines like jugs and big boobie web sites. I'm sure he'll be a regular at Hooters. But the ones I feel really sorry for are his future girlfriends. They'll need to wear steal tops and spikes if they want to go out with my son and his roaming hands.

One things for certain though I'm sure they'll be stacked.

The Meatloaf From Hell

2009-01-22T09:09:00.003-05:00

I cook just about every night. When we had no kids I would cook once a week. It was a big event. I would buy a great cut of meat research new and exciting recipes and create a romantic and wonderful meal. Since LAK (life after kids) I cook most nights. I have a rotating bunch of recipes that are quick and easy and everyone seems to like. But one night a week I make my meatloaf. When I make my meatloaf I am greeted with comments such as:

I hate this!

This is yucky!

Oh no not meatloaf!

My Hubby smiles but when he sees my meatloaf his eyes go dead. Its as if my meatloaf has sucked the soul right out of him.

Why you may ask do I make this pathos inducing meatloaf? I guess the simple reason is its easy and we can all eat the leftovers the next day. (Yes there is two days of soul sucking meatloaf night.)

I guess the other reason is I HATE COOKING EVERY DAY!!!! Maybe I am secretly punishing everyone for making me cook after a long days work. Why is it my job? Who made me the cook cleaner and everything else? Maybe someone else who doesn't make the meatloaf from hell weekly should learn how to cook.

So in order to spread the evil specter of sadness that is my meatloaf I thought I would pass along my recipe.

Suzie's Soul Sucking Meatloaf
1 pound of clinically depressed ground chicken
1 small sad little onion
1/4 of a cup of heartbroken red pepper
1 lonely egg
lots of despondent ketchup
plenty of dejected bread crumbs
and a good dash of grief stricken worcestershire sauce and some pensive soy sauce

Grab and knife and sigh be sure to suppress sob as you chop and saute the onions and peppers
slap everything in a chipped and ugly bowl (be sure to mutter under your breath as you do this)
knead slop with hands while complaining bitterly about cooking
put into a greased meatloaf pan while shaking head and slowly with feeling
top with ketchup, bread crumbs and some Parmesan cheese
add tears if available
cook at 400 for 20 min
use time to mutter and complain quietly
put in broiler to crisp top for last 10 min
serve while hot and despondent

Watch the soul sucking fun begin

We Interupt This Blog

2009-01-21T08:50:00.006-05:00

I have gotten really into Facebook these days. I know I originally hated it but now I'm hooked.

We interrupt this blog post for fast breaking news story from Suzie's school:

It has been reported that one of the parents came to school this morning to drop off her two kids aged two and 10 months. The mother bent down to take her baby out of the carrier she was wearing when her two year old came running over and bent in as to give the baby a kiss. Instead of a kiss he took his brothers nose in his mouth and sucked up all the snot from his brothers nose . As he ran away laughing he was seen licking his lip in triumph. This was followed by mass gagging and shouts of Ewww! and NO WAY!!! from observers.

We now return you to our regularly scheduled blog post.

Maybe in a few years she'll return I hope so I miss her.

Today Is the Day

2009-01-20T08:58:00.009-05:00

I am so excited today is the day Barack Obama is going to take the reins of our country. It restores my faith in the American people. I know you all don't agree with his politics but I gotta tell you I'm bursting with pride.

I was so excited I spent the morning drilling B on presidential things. On the news they showed a picture of this:

I said B that is the White House where the President will live. Can you say White House? It came on again. What is that? I asked The White House he answered proudly.

My husband stepped into the room. B pointed and yelled look Daddy there is the White House where Barackobama (Yes its all one word in B land) will live.

My husband paused and looked at me. No Honey he said that is the capital building. The White House is down the street.

Then this guy comes on the tv

Look its Barackobama B shouts out.

Well... ummm....Happy Inauguration Day anyway!!!

It's Really Cold

2009-01-16T11:39:00.004-05:00

It is one cold day. My office is cold really cold. Its hard to concentrate and not keep saying things like boy is it cold. I cant believe how cold it is.

Its so cold in my office I think my brain has frozen solid.

Its so cold in my office if I licked my keyboard my tongue would stick

Its so cold in my office I just wanna take a nap like the little matchstick girl at the end of the story where she succumbs to hypothermia and well you know

Its so cold in my office people are forgoing the freezer and moving in the lean cuisines to conserve energy.

Its so cold channel 5 has issued a frost advisory for the printer

Yeah I know its not a great post but its cold people! I'm doing my best.

Its Suit Day

2009-01-15T09:28:00.004-05:00

Wake up
put on suit for tour day
wake up baby
cuddle baby and coo
aww cute little baby
notice large snot stain smeared across suit
grab baby wipe scrub suit
Give the kids dry cereal to protect suit
Go to work
feed school baby bottle
awww cute little baby
ponder having more kids
feel the warmth of puke flowing down top
grab baby wipe clean off puke
reconsider having more kids
go to office
print up brochure
glow with workers pride
clear paper jam
glow with a little less pride
clear another paper jam
cut fingers again
feel pride glow fades
cut finger again
wonder how long it would take to get new job
grab baby wipe
clean blood off suit
ignore coffee, children, powdered donuts anything that can hurt suit
sit perfectly still doing nothing so as not to disturb suit
be asked why you are doing nothing while at work
explain suit
ignore stares
Its suit day dammit!

Here Chicky chick chick

2009-01-14T11:33:00.005-05:00

Chicken pox. The doctor thinks I have chicken pox. Can you believe it?

I remember being 9 with the pox and thinking at least Ill never have to go through this again? Oh yeah? That's what you think little 9 year old me. Little do you know that when you are an old almost a 40 year old lady you will be foxy, poxy again. And if you thought having chicken pox when you are 9 is bad just wait because having the pox as an adult is really great. The days and days of high fevers the itching the pain yes actually pain all makes for lots of grown up fun.

And just try keeping up with the little ens as you sweat and itch and move around in your delirium. Its a whole new level of fun.

I hate to be bitter. After all the test results are not in yet I could have such fun things as shingles, leprosy,some really gross thing I saw on Opera in my fever fog.

You know knowing my family its probably some weird flesh eating virus that will cause the staff at my school to freak out and wrap my kids and I in plastic wrap to keep from getting my hideous new disease that of course is highly contagious.

Ok Im bitter and sick. What can I do I'm only human or well maybe a little fowl of late. So here's to you chicken pox. A pox on you!

I Dont Feel Well

2009-01-12T08:15:00.004-05:00

I am sorry I have not responded to anyone posts of late. I have been sick. Really sick. The kind of sick where you cant lift your head off the pillow. Where you wake up drenched in sweat and wondering where the hell you are. The kind of sick that should be reserved for bad people who enjoy poking small animals with sharp sticks.

After spending the last few days in a fever fog I awoke (not that I am better but I can now take a few steps without collapsing and asking for my mommy) to look around my apartment and realize it has been transferred to some hell dimension. A dimensions where sippy cups filled with rotten milk crunch under my feet. Where dirty diapers and old trays of take out food food never seem to quiet make it to the diaper basket. Where monster hell children run around insanely eating candy in dirty pajamas even though it is 3 pm and exhausted and crazed looking hubby rocks humming tunelessly to himself .

Last night I struggled through my fever fog to right the wrongs of the hell dimensions. I talked my poor hubby off the couch and let him run free in the fields of Sunday night football. I fought the and scaled the ugly mountains of trash. I tamed and dressed the hell children and even cooked them dinner.

So I guess the lesson here is Mommies can never ever get sick. Ever for any reason...But I gotta tell ya...I want my mommy..... I'm so sick

I've Got Something To Tell You

2009-01-07T14:41:00.007-05:00

Yesterday morning I forgot my cell phone. My wonderful hubby decided to drop my phone off for me at work. While he was there he was distant, removed, he wouldn't even step foot inside the door he just hovered around the outside of the room and held the phone out to me. It was very strange.

Later on during the day I received this IM

Hubby: Honey you there

me: yup

Hubby: I have something to tell you

Me: Uh oh OK

Hubby: Your office

It smells

bad

Me: WHAT???

Hubby: Yes, not at all fresh. It was sort of overwhelming.

Me: Oh my god really

Hubby: yes it stunk

I took a deep whiff. It smelt fine to me.

Me: Ok thanks

Hubby: Really bad

Horrified I went into a classroom and grabbing the first teacher I saw I asked her to join me in the office. She looking around scared waiting for the pink slip.

Sniff. I told her.

She did staring at me with wide eyes.

Does it stink?

She started to smile.

I didn't want to say anything but it really stunk this morning. Like poop. Like big old poopy diapers.

A teacher passing by chimed in.

Yeah it smelled really bad. Terrible.

I was horrified. What had happened how did this stink go unnoiticed by me? How did I work blissfully through the stink unaware of the stinky office I inhabited.

I wanted to yell it wasn't me! I didn't make the office stink! I wanted to blame my office mate. I wanted to point fingers. I wanted to protest to yell to shout to rage against the machine.

But instead I was faced with the awful truth

This morning my office

stunk

My Appliances Are Revolting

2009-01-07T10:36:00.004-05:00

It began quietly enough first thing in the morning blurred eyed I awoke poured myself some coffee from my lover..the coffee maker. The one I trusted and loved sometimes more than...others in my household. When I finished I rinsed out the carafe and wiped it and before my eyes my trust was shattered as the carafe broke around my hand. Although I was unscathed a little piece of my heart broke too.

Little did I know this was the beginning of the revolt of the appliances.

Next it was my radiator. My mean hissing ugly radiator. It waits for the warmest days and then turns on full blast causing us to switch on the air conditioner in the dead of winter. It chokes us with its stifling dry heat it bangs it rumbles. It is evil and it wants to suck all moisture from the air. I know it plotting waiting biding its time to get me.

Then it was the oven. My reliable little range. I went to turn on the gas and was struck in the eye by a flying knob. After searching my postage stamp kitchen I finally found the culprit. I felt victorious but it was only the start. I turned on the oven and inserted my meatloaf. I thought I could see a twinkle in the gas ranges eye but I chalked it up to the flying handle. 30 min later I checked the meatloaf and to my horror and dismay it was cold and raw. I switched it to the broiler not willing to be bettered by my oven and the whole broiler draw came apart in my hands.

I am scared. I know they area all out to get me. I'm not sure if I can even trust the toilet anymore.

Im On A Diet

2009-01-06T09:29:00.006-05:00

Now that I am trying I mean really trying to loose weight I am totally obsessed. In my head I am already skinny. I am wearing the latest fashions shopping at the regular stores and not "women stores". In my head I am already a foxy,pulchritudinous, radiant, ravishing, refined, resplendent, shapely, sightly, splendid, statuesque, stunning, sublime, superb, symmetrical, taking, well-formed, wonderful hot tamale.

In fact I am a such a modely, gal who looks so fabulous men follow me drooling as I walk down the street. I am so gorgeous in my head that I can't believe I have to work this daily job people should just throw money at me because I am that beautiful. I am such a looker people have to wear sunglasses so as not to be blinded by my hot, fantastic bod. Its amazing I have not been discovered by the media yet.

So as long as I maneuver carefuly being sure not to see the size tags on my clothes I should be fine.

Catch Up

2009-01-05T10:08:00.010-05:00

I cant believe how long I went without blogging. It was scary I missed you guys. I think I may have gone through a little withdrawal on the first few days some cold sweats a few shakes but by the end I was almost ok. Ok but not complete how could I be without my bloggy friends. Sniff.. but those kiddies of mine those crazy little aliens who live in my house would not have it. As soon as the computer went on something would smash, someone would punch someone else or a little someone known as S would stick her tongue in the electrical socket (no kidding this really happened). So this was pretty much a bloggy free break.

I thought I would give you a quick run down of my week as I actually have a lot of work to do (gasp):

S weaned herself

Since I am no longer a human milk machine I have begun to take diet pills to loose the endless folds of baby weight. I now find I have enough energy to scrub the floor, make dinner and write a novel all at the same time.

My coffee maker broke. I feel betrayed and angry. I loved that coffee machine oh how I loved him.

I saw the mummer parade which is a weird Philly tradition consisting of vast amounts of alcohol and men in dresses and feathers holding parasols

I have come to the conclusion that Ryan Seacrest has sold his body to Dick Clark who's soul is now inhabiting it. That man is rich I mean really rich. It could happen.

So I hope you are all caught up. I hope you all had a happy and healthy New Year.

Happy New Years

2008-12-31T20:18:00.003-05:00

Its New Years eve and here I am getting ready to PARTY!!! I've got the champange, the jello shots. I'm dressed in my funky nightime gear. getting ready to dance and to p-a-r-t-y! Wee its all systems go!!!!....

or...

I am at my parents house watching Shrek dressed in my pj's having eaten chinese food and getting ready to go to bed at 9:35

you decide

either way Happy New Year!!!

Games for the Holiday Break

2008-12-24T09:13:00.004-05:00

This is my last day of work for the next 11 days. While I love time off I am a little scared of spending the next 11 days ALONE WITH MY KIDS!!!!!!!! It is very frightening and I'm not sure that we will all survive but I have created a list of few games to help get me through the next week and a half. Here is the list of Suzie's Games for the Holiday Break:

Get Mommy the Jug of Wine

Who can sleep the longest?

Find the TV remote

Scruby scrub scrub the tub

Being really really quiet is fun

Lets pretend to be mommy and watch all her tv shows (without whining about wanting to watch cartoons)

Shake, Shake, Shake, mommies martinis

Hide and seek for Mommy (who has really left the apartment and is sleeping in the hallway)

The first one to shriek or whine is a rotten egg

and my favorite

Lets all go to Grandmas house!

Hanukkah in the Up The Hill Backward House

2008-12-23T09:15:00.007-05:00

Ive had many people ask me to describe a little bit about the Jewish Holidays and since its Hanukkah I thought I'd give it a go. I have lots of links if you want more information or recipes. So here it is Hanukkah in the Up The Hill Backward House:

Hanukkah is a holiday that takes place at night but in our house hold it goes on all day long. It starts out like this:

B if you don't unzip that suitcase and let Baby S out of there we are not having Hanukkah tonight!

B if you keep shrieking until Mommies ears bleed there will be no presents! Not one! No way! No Hanukkah for you!!

B that's! It I'm calling Daddy its all off!!! Now take that candle out of your sisters nose or that is really it! No Hanukkah and I mean it!!!!

When the evening finally rolls around everyone gets very excited. We put the candles in the menorah (The Hanukkah candle holder) and we let B choose the colors. B passes out the kepas (prayer caps) his has superman on it. I take out the family Siddur (prayer book) I received at my Bat Mitzvah from my Uncle Sauly. It looks very old and mysterious it had a metal cover and is covered in plastic jewels. We use the top candle to light the others B helps. I start the prayers. And as I begin we all take a breath... as B starts singing Christmas carols at the top of his lunges.

Threats begin again.

We settle down.

The candles are lit. We begin singing and dancing.

And then the cry heard religiously every night PRESENTS!!!! Present Time!!!!

Each child gets one present. Usually it is something small. Hanukkah presents are not big things just small little toys and traditionally the kids get money called gelt. We give them the chocolate kind and we only do that one night as my kids are scary on sugar.

We eat lots of fried food to celebrate the oil lasting in the temple for 8 nights. Ahh the Jews and our love of high cholesterol foods. We eat latkes (potato pancakes) and schnitzel (fried chicken cutlets) and end with sufganiot (jelly donuts). We also only do that one night as I am scary on fried foods.

Then its off to bed to begin saving up threats for another day.

That's It I'm Offically Old

2008-12-22T09:04:00.004-05:00

This morning I decided I could no longer go outside with my coat unbuttoned. Due to my expanding waistline I was unable to warmly affix the coat to my body and since the temperature had fallen to a balmy -10 I thought buttoning the coat might be a necessity today.

The only way to accomplish buttoning my coat was to move the buttons. This would involve (gasp) sewing! Bravely facing the unknown I took out my needle and thread and began by threading the needle.

I noticed as I did this that the hole had gotten mysteriously smaller than it had been the last time I used it. In fact it was no longer a hole but a pore. An tiny itsty bitsy pore that dared me to try to put some thread though it. I squared my shoulders and decided to face the task head on. No microscopic needle hole was going to do me in! I cut the thread like a pro sucked on the end and began threading.

I held the needle as far away from me as I could hoping to use my telephoto sight to thread the needle. I pushed it through and success! I was not old! I was not loosing my sight! I was young and spry! I had done it in just one try!

Then I moved the needle and realized I was not the owner of a brand new threaded needle. I had threaded the air and that would not help move my buttons.

I went to the bathroom and turned on the bright lights. This was the kind of light that showed every blemish every ounce of cellulite. It was mean light and today it was my friend.

I held the needle and cut the thread again. This time I would not fail. I pushed and shoved and squinted and twisted but even in the bathrooms harsh light I could see that needle was no closer to being threaded than Elmo was to being the voice over for Darth Vader in Star War 105.

Finally I realized there was no choice. It was time to get out the big guns. My Granny glasses. The kind that costs $10 from the drugstore and fit in their own cardboard flowered carrying case. A real fashion statement. I stood in the bright light mean light looking like Old Mother Hubbard. Holding that needle out to the end of my arm dressed in my granny glasses bathed in the unforgiving bathroom glow. I battled and I grunted and a danced around but finally. It was done. The needle was threaded and I was victorious.

I looked up and both my kids were looking at me silently. I thought I could see pity in their eyes as they quietly shook their heads.

Get the walker out kiddies Granny's home.

10 Reasons Why My Coffee Maker is Better Than My Husband

2008-12-19T08:58:00.004-05:00

I know it is not right to create a list about why my coffee maker is better than my husband. Its not politically, morally or socially correct. In fact only a real sicko would create a list stating why their coffee maker was far superior to the father of her two children. Bad Suzie bad! So with that in mind:

10 Reasons Why My Coffee Maker is Better Than My Husband:

He always knows what I want
Every morning he is there steaming and hot
He can cook (well making coffee counts doesn't it)
He never complains about anything, ever for any reason
He never asks me how much I spent on that
He never throws his socks across the floor with wild abandon (OK he has no feet but you get the idea)
He never ever leaves used tissues in his cups when he is done with them -you know how important this one is to me
He never looks at my meatloaf with sadness in his eyes
He never pees on the toilet seat
(This is my favorite one!)I CAN TURN HIM OFF!

OK I cant stop:
11. He smells good
12. He never disagrees with my parenting techniques

Now this is getting scary:
13. He doesn't pick his toenails
14. He doesn't snore
15. He kisses like a pro
16. He is the sexiest coffee maker in the world!

OK now Ive crossed the line...I'm sorry...I am so ashamed

Dear Little S

2008-12-17T09:01:00.004-05:00

Dear Little S:

I'm writing this letter to let you know about a few things that have been on my mind of late. I am your Mommy and love you so I feel its my duty to be up front about an issue that needs discussion.

First off let me start with a few positive points. Thank you so much for not calling me Daddy anymore. I really appreciate it. Mama is much better. And I gotta tell you I love the wet, snotty, open mouth kisses you give more than chocolate.

While I am very impressed with your developmental leaps I do have an issue that needs to be addressed.

Your interest in the toilet is admirable. I'm hopeful it may lead to early potty training and that is great but I must point out a reoccurring social fopah you have been discovered doing on multiple occasions. Believe me I say this because I love you and want what's best for you.

Please stop sticking your hand in the toilet after your brother has gone pee pee.

Please stop splashing around in the pee pee toilet water.

And for goodness sake please please do not do a full hand lick after the pee pee potty play.

Thank you for your attention in this matter.

Love

Your Mommy

Hi Im Cindy

2008-12-15T15:16:00.006-05:00

Let me begin this story by telling you I am not normally an angry person. I can take a lot before I blow. But sometimes someone so annoying and so perky hits me like silk wrapped nails on a black board. Sometimes someone comes around who is so horrible and so caustic I would rather be locked in a small car with two kids who suffer form extreme motion sickness and recurring gas.

This is the story of one of those people. Let call her

CINDY

My story begins in the gym. As you know I gained about 15 pounds on vacation. So I was working out as hard as humanly possible without breaking a real sweat after all this was my lunch hour I needed to go back to work and no one likes a sweaty office pal.

I was reading OK magazine and I had a people tucked away for later so I could find out why Tom Cruise really jumped on that couch when suddenly there she was

Hi!

I looked down from my stair master and she was CINDY. A 20 year old skinny perky beast with happy little boobies and a scary over sized smile. She was pure evil and I knew it. CINDY was trouble.

Hi I'm Cindy It said again have you had your personal training session yet this year?

I looked down at her perfectly bouncy hair and her sassy little smile and tried not to scream in terror. I tired to ignore her pretending to care about Posh Spice's new not ever eating diet but I could feel her eyes burning into my skull.

Hi Cindy. I said trying not to show it my fear. I've heard they can smell fear from a mile away. I'm not really into that kind of thing. I have two small kids and this is the only time I have to myself to read and think but thanks.

I opened my OK magazine and tried to concentrate on Britney addiction to vanilla lattes while hoping some brave knight would appear and save me from the CINDY. But I had no such luck she was on the loose and I was face to face with the beast.

Hi! She squeaked again. You know working out with a personal trainer could really help you control some of those problem areas.

The terror was overwhelming. Please I thought go away CINDY go away!

Instead I took a deep breath and summoned my courage

Cindy. I'm not trying to be rude but I really look to forward to having a little peace and quiet at the gym. Thanks but I'm OK.

I could feel Cindy's eyes traveling over my body. I knew she was sizing me up maybe thinking how I would taste with a little holindaise sauce.

But have you met your personal work out and weight goals this year?

And that was it. CINDY may have been one scary 20 year old perky perfectly conditioned personal training demon. But I was an almost forty year old Mommy of two. I think I could take her if I had to. The anger broke free and the Mommy monster was on the loose.

Listen CINDY I am about 30 pounds over weight I have the neck the size of a tree trunk. I said spitting my venom in her direction I am still fighting baby weight and I fit into nothing. But the question is do I want to work out with you. You 20 year old teeny tiny person who is named CINDY and wont leave me alone in the gym? No CINDY I don't so please back away CINDY before I blow a big fat gasket and roll you in sugar and eat you as a snack.

She took a deep breath smiled. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

OK but if you change your mind look for me. The names CINDY.

I'm still shaking

I'm Back

2008-12-15T09:27:00.002-05:00

I'm back! Did you miss me?

I had a great trip. I'm relaxed. I'm tan. Ive gained about 15 pounds.

So here are my trips highlights:

Upon reaching the airport we noticed the bag contained the children's clothes were no longer with us. Yes we had left the kids suitcase at home. After a little tiff in the security line between hubby and I we relaxed and resigned ourselves to a week of naked dirty kids.

Spending $130 dollars at Wallmart in FA so we would not have a week of said dirty, naked kids. (By the way I love Wallmart. We don't have them here in NYC. Next Ill be discovering chick a fil a.)

B freezing during his bunks performance of a hip hop show where had to be removed from the stage. (This is a step up from the last trip where he fell off the stage)

S getting the entire top row of her teeth suddenly at 3am one evening.

Getting food poising Saturday night and heaving my guts up.

But the question remains did I enjoy myself?

Am I relaxed?

Was it fun?

Was it worth getting a second job and going into debt to pay for this trip?

Yes yes yes yes yes!!!

Wordless Wednesday

2008-12-10T07:25:00.000-05:00

I am not here. I am on vacation until Monday. I have a lot of hopes for this vacation.

I want to reconnect with my kids

reconnect with my hubby

eat some good food

maybe have a few cockatils

let loose a little

But mostly I want to relax

Good Bye I'm A Leaving

2008-12-05T09:04:00.003-05:00

I'm going away tomorrow for a whole week. I am so excited. I will miss you all but this has been a pretty intense year and a break sounds so good.

I am excited but still the little nagging travel worry bug is flying around my head whispering tales of plane trouble, crying babies and just plain travel worry.

I used to be a world traveler. I went to Egypt Israel, Zambia and Spain (among others) and all with a small backpack. I would pack an hour before I got a taxi to the airport. I would have no hotel booked for my arrival. I would land with a guide book and a vague idea of what I would be doing.

I remember riding a bus in Turkey with no idea which direction I was going in with no one who spoke English and a guide book that included the phrase I didn't do it please call the American Embassy (an important phrase indeed).

I remember landing in Egypt and realizing I had forgotten to pack underwear. Trying to buy panties in a Muslim country was an experience. I tracked all around Cairo's bazaars with a little piece of paper that read I have no panties in Egyptian written by the hotel desk clerk who got a good laugh of my predicament.

Now every facet of my trip is planned. I know which room Ill be in. Which deck chair I will use. How many feet it is from the bar to my room.

I pack lots of extra underwear and plenty of clean socks. I could open my own pantie bazaar for the packing impaired.

My guide books need only include the phrases Can I have another mud slide please and which way to the pool?

And yet that worry bug is still a flying. Crazy aint it?

Morning Has Broken

2008-12-04T08:55:00.007-05:00

This morning I was taking my daily 5:30am shower. I get early so I have a little time alone. As I stepped out of the shower I saw five little fingers pressed under the door. They wiggled a greeting and slipped away. I opened the door to find B laying with his arms stretched above his head face down on the floor waiting patently for me to emerge. I invited him in the bathroom and he began to talk.

Mommy why do you take showers and not baths? I dreamt I saw Captain America and he was flying and he said Hi B and I said Hi Captain America.......

He chatted away as I got dressed

Mommy why do dinosaurs not be alive anymore? Why do they have big big poops not little poops like I make?

He chatted on as I put on my make up

Poops is a potty word right? I am in the potty so I can say poop poop poop. Why you not say poop mommy?

Little S got up. She saw me and smiled and reached out her little arms and yelled

Daddy!!!!!

As I nursed her B continued

Now I am out of the potty so I cant say it anymore but i wanna say it mommy can I huh? Can I say poop?

I brushed my teeth and S laughed and laughed.

I brushed her teeth and she spit on the floor like her big brother (although he spit in the sink)

Then she smiled a big toothy grin (with her four teeth)

You know I don't think there is anymore of a perfect way to begin my day.

(OK so sue me I gotta do a sentimental post every now and then. I think its in every mommy contract to ohh and ahh over their kids every now and then. Don't worry tomorrow Ill be crabby old me I'm sure.)

Facebook is One Scary Place!

2008-12-03T09:04:00.003-05:00

I'm into trying new computery things. I twitter, I blog, I've my spaced, I've even downloaded a few itunes and I don't even have an ipod. So knowing how savey I am my "friend" (I now say that in quotes) convinced me Facebook was the place to be. It was like the studio 54 of the 21st Century. The hip in place to be. So as not to loose any more street cred (I wear more mom jeans, go to bed by 9pm, and make meatloaf on a regular basis. My hip points are sorely lacking) I decided to go and see what all the fuss was about.

This is what I found in the first 10 minutes:

1 high school prom (ummm lets call him a date)

4 old boyfriends

3 mean chicks who hated me in high school

1 guy who still remembered that unpleasant comment I made in 1986 and was still holding a grudge

and some guy named Ed who for the life of me I cant remember

I grew up in Philly and although it was a big city it felt like a small town. Everyone knew everybody. Every silly thing you did was broadcast to all citizens of my town (at least it felt that way). As a teenager I did a lot of silly things. I think in fact I was the queen of silly things. When I left Philly I breathed a big sigh of relief and I thought now I can start fresh.

And I did

Until Facebook.

Did you ever have that nightmare where everyone you knew in high school were still there dishing the dirt on you. Pointing and poking you all over again. Where you never really grew up and felt just as vunerable as you did all those years ago? Did you?

Well welcome to Facebook!

B's Thanksgiving List

2008-12-01T08:55:00.002-05:00

Here are the 10 things B learned about Thanksgiving this year:

No matter how many times you poke a turkey it will not get up and run
Turkeys used to have a head now it doesn't
Don't try to eat the contents of bag that mommy pulls out of the turkey. Its not candy. Don't even look in there...trust me.
Grandpa's curried cranberry is not good don't eat it
If you keep saying "Mommy please!" in a high pitched whiny voice while mommy is cooking by the 15th or 16th time someone will get fed up enough to give you all the chocolate milk you can drink.
Under the table is much more fun than sitting in your seat. Especially if you can grab your sisters leg and pull her under there too and then wrestle her to the ground and lay on top of her while singing the Wheels on The Bus Song.
Your head is not filled with hair. It just grows out of the top of your head. The rest of your head is filled with other stuff
Your sister fits perfectly in the boxes the groceries come in. If you sit on the box she will not be able to get out no one will see her and everyone will pay attention to you.
If you squeeze stuffing in your hand you can make stuffing balls which you can then throw at your sister or the dog.
Pie is good.

This is B's list I personally I do not agree at all with number 4. I thought your cranberry sauce was great. I mean it. Sorry Dad.

To All You Turkey Lovers Out There

2008-11-27T08:04:00.002-05:00

Happy Thanksgiving!
Now get to cooking

Still Talking On A Wednesday

2008-11-26T09:09:00.016-05:00

Pies I'm all about . Yes this Thanksgiving on top of the turkey and string bean casserole I will be making pies. For some reason it has become my obsession.

I went to sleep thinking about pies.

Woke up thinking about pies.

Bought more pie ingredients on the way to work

Talked about pies at work.

I'm making
sweet potato pie
pumpkin pie
pecan pie
and a Marlboro pie (its some 1812 house recipe I saw on tv)

And I'm making these pies all with my rashy gangrenous hands. I'm not even sacred about loosing a in the pie that's how much I care about the damn pie.

Try to engage me in conversation I dare you because it will somehow involve . I don't know what happened. I used to talk about a lot of things. I talked politics culture I even went galleries but none of it was as all consuming as my recent thoughts about pie.

Its Not All Roses Being Queen of The Martians

2008-11-25T08:53:00.009-05:00

I have this weird rash between my fingers that is driving me crazy.

(Yes I've reached the age where I complain endlessly about my aging body. Just wait until I blog about my cholesterol. You guys are in for some fascinating stuff)

I looked up rash on google image and it was pretty darn gross people with the flesh falling off and blisters and for some reason about 70 crotch shots of really really scary looking problems. I thought yuck how can I do that to my bloggy friends first thing in the morning so instead I will post this

chicken fingers much better and they taste better too.

This rash showed up about a month ago and its red and itchy and I think about it all day long. I tried creams, soaks just about everything. I've even slept with socks on my hands. I'm trying S's old psoriasis cream and its seems to be working a little but the question is where did it come from. Here are some of my thoughts:

Its an overworked and too tired rash. My fingers have given up. They don't want to clean anymore or change diapers or make dinner. They're on strike and the rash is their protest sign. Good for them
I have leprosy (why not go for a classic)
After being made queen of the aliens I caught some weird outer space disease but it was totally worth it.
I am slowly falling apart
The fat comment made them really angry so they decided to get all rashy in retaliation
Maybe there is no rash and its all a figment of a deranged mind.
I have a flesh eating disease and I will be a goner by next Tuesday.

I'd like to end this post with a picture of some lovely finger foods because I'm hungry and it is so much nicer than a picture of a gangrenous hand.

Fatty Fat Fat Strikes Again

2008-11-24T09:32:00.003-05:00

Did I have a good weekend....hmmmm? Well my sister in laws bridal shower was this weekend. It was lovely and she looked great and the food was wonderful. My only complaint however was when I left the table for one minute I walked in on a conversation about how much weight I had gained since I had given birth to S.

You would think they would stop and have the decency to start talking about celebrity rehab or the latest Paris Hilton scandal when they noticed me.

Nope.

They continued the conversation.

Well it is hard to loose weight while nursing. She still has such a pretty face. Shame though.

Well that just made my day. I already felt very bad about a terrible dye job I had received (Whats so hard about light brown people?) And sitting in on a weight conversation about me was just as much fun as having toddlers redecorate my new couch.

I got mad and proceeded to eat several rolls and desserts in retaliation.

That'll show em

(I am feeling pretty blue right now. I would be very pleased to receive any empty compliments you may have especially concerning my looks. I know you've never really seen me so improvising and lies are totally welcome. Thank you)

Oh Where Has She Gone?

2008-11-21T12:18:00.004-05:00

Where is Suzie? Where has she gone? She has not responded to my sassy stories. She has not commented. She has not twittered. She has not regaled us with her wit at all. Her blog page sits silently showing a Wordless Wednesday of days gone by. What's up?

Has she been abducted by a traveling green martians who have no children or husbands and like to drive in fast cars and think tummy flab is sexy?

Has she run away and joined a troop of high flying acrobats who have made her their queen and worship her by giving her foot rubs and frozen drinks and let her sleep late every morning?

Or did she in the throws of a cleaning frenzy try to remove the huge ugly scary looking dust particles and bits of old food and grime she saw in her clear mac key board with q tips and end up smashing the thing against the trash can rendering it useless and broken ?

One can only wonder.

Never Wordless On Another Wednesday

2008-11-19T08:57:00.005-05:00

I love my hubby I do. But why? Why?

I've asked him so many time. Pleaded, demanded but still every morning there they are. The used coffee cups with dirty napkins inside.

Its just the grossest thing. Putting my hands into that mug and pulling out that used dirty napkin. It makes me gag.

I know marriage is a give and take. The blending of two lives to create one family but if I had known it would involve taking dirty old napkins out of used coffee cups...well... I would have taken a much much longer honeymoon.

Beer Pong Dreams

2008-11-18T08:58:00.004-05:00

This weekend I was walking with my hubby pushing my big red double stroller past a bar near our house called Porkies. In the window they were adverting a beer pong world championship. In case you (like me) have never heard of beer pong (you should totally be as ashamed as I that you do not know about this intellectually stimulating and dignified sport) here's a handy dandy definition:

Beer pong (also called beirut, lob pong, BP, etc.) is a drinking game in which players throw a ping-pong ball across a table with the intent of landing the ball in one of several cups of beer on the other end. When a ball lands in a cup, the defending team must consume all of the beer inside that cup. The game is won by eliminating all the other team's cups before all of one's own cups are eliminated. The losing team must then consume all the beer remaining in the winning team's cups.

Outside Porkies stood a young girl maybe twenty one or so. She was wearing a I'll pong for you hand made tee shirt. She had mascara smeared on her face and a big smile.

My husband taking a chance she was a beer pong finalist (he's smart like that) began to engage her in a run down of how her team was doing. As they chatted away about the awfulness of her teams ability to play beer pong and how astonished they were they were even in the illustrious beer pong finals I began to day dream.

(Que fuzzy screen and dreamy music)

I saw myself sitting in my dorm room with so much time on my hands I could hand draw my beer pong tee shirt. I saw myself gathering together my friends to practice our beer pong craft. Setting up cups and bouncing that pong pong ball. I saw my brow winkled in concentration. I saw my hand shake with determination as I ponged my ball to the waiting cups. I saw myself waking up on a lazy Sunday knowing the only thing I needed to do for the day was compete in the world beer pong finals!

For one shining moment my bills sat unopened. My children were not yet born. My hubby was just some dude I had yet to meet. I was a beer pong finalist and I rocked!

When suddenly a shout of "I gotta go potty!" shattered my pretty beer pong dream.

I was not a finalist I was a mommy and wife I had bills to pay butts to wipe and I didn't even own a ping pong ball.

Maybe next year.

A Very Very Bad Weekend

2008-11-17T08:49:00.004-05:00

This weekend was not what I would call fun. In fact I would call it a hell fest. I trip through awful land. A peek into the land of terrible horrible. All courtesy of my son B. B was in rare form. He tackled his sister with some impressive WWF moves. He created some riveting works of art on the dresser in his room. But his most impressive feat took place Saturday afternoon when B had metamorphosed into a slobbering high pitched Helli monster.

We decided to take him to the park as we were all becoming a bit scared of the beast that used to be B. It was cold and gray but we bundled them all up and off we went. The way the weekend was going I would have taken that child out if giants were dropping boulders from the sky.

When no one could feel their fingers anymore we decided it was time to go home. We let B run ahead as Hubby and I walked behind trying to find strategies to handle our little beast when suddenly I couldn't see B anymore. Hubby set out on a quick jog to find him. As I watched I thought of which toy I could take a away as a punishment.

I saw hubby running in another direction then another. I realized B was gone. My heart rate started increasing the sweat began pouring down my face as just about every Sally Field's movie ran through my head. I began to run and scream for B. Poor S just held on to the stroller for dear life as ran like a mad woman looking for my darling little B.

Suddenly a man grabbed me. "Are you looking for a little boy in a yellow and blue hoody?" I nodded choking back the tears. He ran with me to a park bench outside of the park on a street facing a huge intersection. There was B curled up in a ball. The minute I saw him I burst into tears. Yelling "What did you do?"

"Why are you crying mommy?" He asked. His Daddy ran up a second later resisting the very huge impulse to throttle him. And echoed my "What did you do?" question.

B got very quiet realizing just how much trouble he was in. "You have no idea how lucky you are!" I yelled and sobbed. "You could have gotten hit by a car! Someone could have taken you! You could have died and never seen your mommy and daddy again! You have done a very very bad thing! Very very bad!"

Ive never been so happy to hold that little beast. And stroke his little monster hair.

And I don't think Ive ever been so happy to see a Monday morning in my life. Hooray for Mondays!

Our Olympic Sport

2008-11-14T07:29:00.006-05:00

Everyone in my house seems to have diaper rash (kids that is I don't know about my hubby but I think he's OK).

S has a diaper rash that looks like she is just raw. It is an ugly one we had to buy a cream to cure it that was more expensive than most of my wardrobe.

B has the privacy rash. The rash that makes him close the bathroom door and pretend he has it all covered even though the boy cant wipe his bottom to save his life.

The result of these rashes are two very cranky kids and the constant need to apply lotion. I thought I knew a lot about my family but I have learned something new during this rashy time The Up The Hill Backwards family has buttocks of iron. When I go to apply these creams those kids clamp down like no body's business. The jaws of life couldn't pry those suckers apart. I wish there was a strong butt cheeks Olympic sport cause my family would get the gold.

As I write this I realize I will now be forever connected with google searches involving iron butt cheeks but hey when I get a chance to brag I go with it.

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By the way thanks so much for all your great Christmasy advice, You guys rock!

Santa Free Zone

2008-11-12T08:46:00.009-05:00

I have a question for you. Let me start at the beginning.

Christmas is a very hard time around my house. We are Jewish and we do not celebrate Christmas at all. Not a little not a smidgen not an iota not a nano particle. On this point I will never budge.

Its not cause I'm a meany (although I may be one its completely unrelated) and I don't judge other Jews who choose to follow the red and green road. I just believe Christmas is not a secular holiday. Its like Brooklyn Day being celebrated in Manhattan its just not our thing.

Christmas is a huge holiday in the states. Christmas music plays in every store. Pictures of Santa's and chimneys are everywhere. Green trees hung with ornaments take over the streets. Even his beloved Elmo hangs antlers on his red fuzzy head and sings carols.

Its hard to be a little Jewish boy watching all of this. Poor little B wants Christmas so badly. He dreams of Christmas. He has little sugar plums dancing in his little yiddle head. He dreams of Santa sliding down our chimney (we dont really have one but a kid can dream) and stuffing his little smelly socks with candy. But alas it is not to be.

After watching a tear slide down his Jewish nose as he thought of the Christmas not to be. I decided to talk up Chanukah's reminding him of eight days of presents. I talked up Passover and getting presents when he finds the Afikoman (the hidden matzoh). I bubbled enthusiastically about the lighting the candles every Sabbath. It was exhausting but after quiet a talk up I finally finally I saw a little smile.

"Yeah I'm gonna get eight days of presents!" He bragged. I had done it I thought. I have broken Christmas magical hold on my son all will be well.

Yesterday we passed another store all decked out in the Christmas spirit. There were Christmas trees and reindeer it was a whole Christmas fest. B went by sighed longingly and said and said."Mommy can we celebrate Christmas this year?" Oh no I thought not again! I took a deep breath and reminded how Jews do not celebrate Christmas I launched into went into my great speech about Chanukah's Passover blah blah blah. It was exhausting.

But Mommy he said "Some Jews do celebrate Christmas." "No they don't." I snapped hoping not do another song and dance about the whole thing. "Yes they do. My teacher Ms. Deborah said some Jews celebrate Christmas. She said her friend is Jewish and she has a tree and Santa comes to her house. Can we have a tree? Can we have presents? Can we huh?"

So the question is it bad form to tell my sons teacher what she can "do" with her Jewish Christmas tree? Cause I've got a good place she can put it.

Im Off On My Quest

2008-11-10T08:48:00.004-05:00

You my bloggy comrades you have helped arm me in my quest. Through the reading of royal bloggy comments and your wisdom I now believe my quest is possible.

If what you say is true I need only travel past the forest of horrible endless temper tantrums that seem to involve kicking ones sister with shoes on while knocking everything in ones room onto the floor. Run through the field of midnight screaming fests that wake everyone in the house up including the baby and cause the neighbors to bang on the wall with alarm. Skip over the valley of poopy accidents that caused us to go through every pair of acceptable pjs and began another temper tantrum when my young one had to wear T2's that totally didn't fit. I may eventually find the lake of 2nd and 3rd graders. A place where a screaming mommy may lay down her high pitched angry voice for a while and replace it with slightly naggy but not quiet as loud screamingness.

I hear it may take me and my royal steed another 4-5 years to achieve such a quest but I must believe it will come true.

This weekend I did not think it possible. I was tempted to jump on my royal steed and take off for Vegas or some high tower where the shrieks and refusal to do anything ever for any reason and the constant screaming for ice pops and Mikey mouse Club House from my royal son B would not make me long for a fire breathing dragon to do his worst. But I will go on. Knowing that his constant temper tantrums that last a minimum of 45 minutes each will one day end and I will find that lake and it will be good.

Unless you are all a bunch of fakers and then I will be very very upset indeed.

Where Has She Gone?

2008-11-07T08:42:00.003-05:00

I don't know what happened. I used to be such a good mom. The type of that mom you see on that commercial where the boy accidentally sprays his mom with orange soda and instead of her yelling at him gleefully gets into a soda fight with her son. The type of mom who surveys her orange coated kitchen and hums a little tune while cleaning it up all the while singing boys will be boys doo dee doo.

I don't know what went wrong. Where that happy, gleefully, mommy went? And why has she been replaced with a very cranky, unpleasant, tired, woman who seems to yell at the drop of a hat?

I have changed.

No longer do I find delight in stories that start and I end with "Can I have 9 bananas today?" and continue on for 45 minutes.

No longer am I content to watch my son lick the bathroom mirror slowly when we are already 20 min late for school.

No longer do I clap my hands with joy as my daughter sits in the dogs water bowl and emerges soaking wet when all her other clothes are in the washer.

I don't know what happened. I still love my kids. I still love being their mom. But the woman who marveled at what an artists little B would become as I surveyed the picture B drew in poo on his bedroom wall. She is gone. Long gone.

Now Thats Commitment

2008-11-05T15:14:00.002-05:00

Warning The following post contains discussion about "womanly" "yucky" things.

Yesterday I had a GYN appointment (see I told you). I let my boss know and left before lunch. The office was filled with pregnant ladies and I spent my 45 minute wait contemplating having another baby. I think its something in the air there that causes temporary insanity because this morning I contemplated selling the two kids I already have on Ebay. Anyway I finally get into the examination room and they give me one of those horrible paper gowns. You know the ones that don't close in the back so you end up flashing anyone who enters the room.

The doctor comes in and tells me to scoot down to the end of the table when suddenly the phone rings.

I usually turn off my phone at the doctors I do. But recently there seems to be a rash of kid trouble. Things like B having meningitis or S having seizures. Its always something scary and new so I keep it on. I jumped up to grab my phone sure that B has been stung by a killer bee or S had been eaten by a wandering mountain lion. The caller ID said my work and since my kids go to school there I prepared myself for the worst feeling slightly relieved that I was across the street from the children's hospital just in case I had to make a mad dash run to their snake bite center.

I mean why else would they call? Who would call someone at the GYN office unless it was an emergency?

I answered the phone breathless with fear. And sure enough it was my boss , "Uh Suzie..." here it comes I thought, "The Department of Health is here. They need that paper work they sent you last week."

In disbelief I stutter ,"Umm I'm at the doctors right now. Cant this wait?"

"Hold on let me put them on with you."

And sure enough he handed the phone to the Department of Health Inspector while I Suzie was umm... otherwise indisposed.

That's right I spoke to the Department of Health while having an internal exam.

I think I need a raise.

Halloween Horrors Continued

2008-11-05T08:51:00.007-05:00

Just when you thought it was safe and Halloween was over it rears its ugly head again. Although Halloween is long gone I find I am being haunted by a four year old boy. This four year old child floats around my house moaning and chanting in a way that is so scary it chills you to the bones. The chant always seems to be the same:

I want my trick or treat candy! Do you have my trick or treat candy? Can I have it now? I want candy? Its mine why cant I have it huh?

I can be cooking in the kitchen or doing the laundry it makes no difference it come when it wants filling me with fear as it moans its terrifying demands:

I want a candy bar? Do I have any candy bars left? I want one. I like candy bars. Do you like candy bars? Is it dessert time yet? Can I go trick or treating again today PLEASE?

This morning was the scariest moment yet. I woke up switched on the light in the living room and there it was. Sitting on the couch. Clutching a bent lollipop with the wrapper still on. It squinted in the bright light and looked up at me with sleepless, haunted eyes.

Can I have this now? Is it dessert time? I want this lollipop. Its green. I love green lollipops can I have it now? Can I huh?

I've read some books on haunting I tried all the tricks tried lighting candles, sprinkling salt in a circle but it seems to have no effect.

I think I am doomed!

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Hey I got on Top Mama as I am very vein and love seeing my pic up there can you please click on my pic to keep me in the running click
here
or click the top mama sign on my side bar
and click my Sweet Marie pic
Do it a lot please
Be your best friend

Did I Ever Tell You...

2008-11-04T09:07:00.007-05:00

My sister in law is getting married. She's great so I offered to send out the invites to her shower. As I am pretty busy I came up with the ingenious idea to do it first thing in the morning at work before my boss gets in.

I wanted to make the cards look wonderful so I bought these fancy laser labels. I tried them in the ink jet printer and they smeared. Now everyone knows You can't have a smeared label its just not done. So I had a brilliant idea to stick them in the copy machine.

Please note it was 7:30am I had just stood in line to vote for and hour and a half. I was woozy and I hadn't had any coffee yet.

So I loaded them in and waited expectantly for my beautiful labels to emerge. The first page went through no problem. I held the matt clear labels in my hand and patted myself on the back for being able to do it all.

I waited patiently for the second page to emerge.

Suddenly the machine coughed and spluttered and started to smoke. Instead of my beautiful labels one column of chard stickers where thrown violently from the machine. I opened the machine sure I could pull it out but it tore and smoldered. Little labels with fancy apple chancery font stuck on the turning wheel thing. Aunt Jesspos label stuck to the whosie whatsit.

I tried everything. I pulled I pushed. I used tweezers. I cried but the machine would not listen it just whirled and steamed as if to say you are going to be in so much TROUBLE!!!!

My boss is a nice guy but breaking his machine and doing shower invites at the job? To put it mildly he would not be happy and I knew I was doomed!

I began to panic. I tried to run through other pages with educational material on it so it wouldn't look like it was my fancy labels that had broken the $2000 copy machine. It was no use. I was sunk.

I sat against the machine and whimpered getting ready to spill the beans and tell my boss everything. Suddenly from the kitchen my knight in shining armor entered; the cook.

Step back she said. With nimble fingers coated in breadcrumbs from the chicken fingers she prodded and tinkered and finally pulled the blackened remains of my labels from the machine.

Here she said and threw them on my desk.

I gasped in awe and uttered a "Thank you!" She turned grabbed her pot holders and said "No Problem".

Who says there are no heros anymore?

I feel Yucky... Again.

2008-11-03T09:41:00.004-05:00

I'm in a mood.

Yes believe it or not I do get moody.

Why am I moody dare you ask?

B has the runs.
S is teething and very clingy.
I had a dream I gained 60 pounds all in my stomach.
Everyone is sick at work.
Hubby and I had a little tiff last night (I was right of course).
None of my pants fit right
I stepped on a glue trap this morning and my sock is sticky
no matter how hard I try I cant keep the house clean
and I want a big fatty sandwich but I cant because and I'm always on a diet and I never loose any weight
I have a new hair cut and I hate it
I looked at my wedding alblum last night and I wish I looked like I did 10 years ago
and I've lost my blogging mojo

All in all it has put me in a funk.

Well you asked.