Random Tuesday Thoughts: Yes, Petra, There is a Santa Claus

Today I am participating in the much celebrated and super awesome Random Tuesday Thoughts hosted by Keely over at The Un-Mom, so grab that button up there, visit her over at her pad and write some random stuff of your own on your own blog. But first read this and don't steal it. Get your own randomness, this is MINE.

Just when you think things can't get any worse, they do. Yup, they get a LOT worse. So then you are convinced that things are never going to get any BETTER and you start to get used to your cursed life. You accept that you have no money, never will and will just have to suck it up, that the only luck you will ever have is bad luck, but that it's alright because you have family that loves you and pretty good hair so it's cool. But then something happens. Something you don't recognize. It takes you a minute to figure it out, but then you realize that it's something...good. That something good happened to me today people. After about a month and a half of absolutely ZERO job prospects from dozens of resumes and job applications sent out, I heard from TWO different prospective employers. Then I had a phone interview with one of them.

And I got the job.

I fucking rule.

It's a very part time copy editing and blogging gig for a start up upscale event planning company in Boston, and it certainly isn't going to solve all our money problems, but it's a start, and it's something GOOD, so I'm happy. It doesn't take much lately. Plus, the owner is simply fabulous and we hit it off right away so I am really looking forward to this new opportunity. So Merry Christmas to me, there IS a Santa Claus!

Next, I want to talk about this:

This photo is taken from the blog of Bob X. Cringely. This is his family's ACTUAL, REAL -LIFE Christmas card.

Um, really Bob? I was literally left speechless. I am not even going to say what I think. I want to know what YOU think about this little gem.

On to a picture with a lot less skin and a lot more cute little girl.

I am pretty sure this is the picture I am choosing for Quinn's portfolio picture for the modeling agency. Oh, you didn't know that my child is a bidding young model/actress/rock star? Well, she is. There were so many cute ones to choose from that my friend, Jennifer DeCesari took, but I think this one is the winner. Go check out her web site for more of her awesome photography.

So what do you think? And please keep your opinions about child modeling to yourself if they involve the fact that you think I am exploiting my child. She WANTS to do this, and if she is successful, it will send her to college. So bite me.

Finally, I wanted to tell you about the conversation that I had with my daughter at bedtime last night. She informed me that she has changed her mind and does not, in fact, want to marry Joe Jonas anymore. I know, I know, I was surprised too. I mean, he seems like the logical choice. But she has her mind absolutely made up that she would like to marry someone else. A young man who embodies everything that is good and fun in her little world, the young man who has taught her countless priceless lessons in life and about the value of a really good pillow fight.

This young man is her brother.

"I am going to marry Big Boy. He will be the daddy and I will be the mommy," she said to me.

As I tried my absolute hardest not to laugh, I said to her "Honey, you can't marry Big Boy, he is your brother. You're not allowed to marry your brother."

Her eyes filled up with tears and her lip quivered and I had to try even harder not to laugh. I know, I am a terrible, insensitive mother.

"Please, mommy? Please? I want to marry Big Boy. I really do!"

And when I shook my head, she burst into hysterical tears and I had to hug her and bury her head into my shoulder so she couldn't see the pained, trying-so--incredibly-hard-not-to-burst-into-laughter look on my face.

I finally got her calmed down and tucked into bed, and she cried herself to sleep, the poor little thing. I went into Big Boy's room and told him what happened, thinking he would get a kick out of it.

"Hey Big Boy, Baby Girl just got really upset because I told her she couldn't marry you because you are her brother."

He looked up from his Nintendo DS, rolled his eyes and said "Tell her not to worry, I'll help her find a husband."

Now that, my friends, is real brotherly love.

Happy holidays everyone. I love you and appreciate you all. Enjoy your families this season, be safe, have fun, and try not to get stressed out. Remember what matters.

All I Want for Chirstmas Is To Stay Out Of Rehab

I stopped drinking during the week.

Gasp!

I know. Shocking and mildly disturbing, right? Especially at this time of year, when stress and chaos abound, and with two kids, being unemployed and living with my in-laws, having a drink on a Tuesday night was a vital way to unwind and cope with the uber-demanding entity I like to call my life.

Which is a big problem. Because, in fact, not only was a glass of wine a way to unwind, it was a completely necessary and MUST HAVE part of my day. If I did not have a bottle of wine, I found a way to get one. And most nights, let's be honest, it did not stop at one glass of wine, it usually escalated into two or three, which inevitably lead to me feeling sweater tongued and heavy headed the next morning - and waiting longingly for 6 or 7 p.m. when I could have my beloved glass (or two) of wine again. The letter of the day is "W" people. And the word of the day is "wino."

I am not saying I am an alcoholic, but in a family famous for alcoholics, I know how damaging it can be, and I don't want to go down that road. I also know that the worst time to be drinking a little too much is a time when you are stressed out and overwhelmed. So I decided to nip it in the bud before I became the next victim on Intervention. I had already started getting suspicious every time I was invited to a get-together or someone wanted to videotape me for something. And when people automatically assumed I was drinking wine every night while watching television, I knew A&E was only the next logical step.

Not only that, but it saves hundreds of calories a week, and tons of money that we certainly don't have to spend right now, so in my somewhat deluded estimation I am killing, like, 24 birds with one stone.

Even my husband, Mr. Open a Beer As Soon As He Gets Home has all but stopped drinking. I know, right? He now drinks MILK at night during the week. Is there anything cuter than a grown man drinking milk at night at home while watching the basketball game? No, there isn't. But we have both found that we are so much more clear headed and feel so much better, plus there is no danger of feeling out of control or bajiggity when the shit hits the fan. That is of utmost importance, you know, keeping the bajiggitness at bay during times of stress and hardship.

So I figure by being all grown up and responsible-like, I am doing myself and my family a big favor. And now the only thing I am in danger of being on Intervention for is my unhealthy adult obsession with The Jonas Brothers ;)

Seriously, though, if you or someone you love has a substance abuse problem, please seek help. Here are some links to useful resources:

Drug Abuse and Addiction: Signs, Symptoms and Help for Drug Problems

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration

Substance Abuse Treatment Facility Locator

Go Elf Yourself!

One thing about being unemployed, you find yourself with quite a bit of free time on your hands. And rather than spend that time doing constructive things such as clean, write, look for jobs, or even blog, I find myself doing stuff such as "elfing" my entire family for mine and my daughter's absolute and complete enjoyment. That is what I did yesterday afternoon. And it did, indeed, keep us entertained for the ENTIRE afternoon because, surprisingly, it didn't get old and we spent about two hours watching them over and over and laughing HYSTERICALLY.

So here they are now, for your viewing pleasure. Starring me, my daughter, my son, my husband and a very special guest star whom my daughter would not let me leave out of the fun. There will be a very special Christmas prize for the first person who knows the name of that young, handsome bonus elf. (FADKOG, calling FADKOG!!!!!)

Enjoy!!

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

I Am Not That Funny And I Can't Save You Money On Insurance But I Can Kick You In The Nuts

Like my self-esteem is not low enough. My celebrity look-alikes can't be anyone stunningly beautiful and gracious. No, not me. I get told I look like the most obscure, goofy, dorky people in the public eye.

I cut my bangs, proof of which can be found in my new picture over there in yonder right sidebar. Also, I had to upgrade my eyeglass prescription AGAIN because I am slowly going blind and my contact lenses are scratching the corneas out of my eyeballs, so I used my computer glasses frames to get a new RX so that I could use the old frames and RX for computer use because my eyes are SO bad and my prescription is SO strong that when sitting in front of the computer, the prescription actually burns my eyeballs and deteriorates them even faster, according to the eye doctor. Yeah, I am a genetic winner apparently. But that's not the point. The point is that with my new bangs and glasses, apparently the dude with chin pubes and a receding hairline at Blockbuster thinks I look JUST LIKE the nerdy comedian girl from the Adam Sandler movie Funny People. Uh, thanks?

This is her:In the movie, they refer to her as "mousy" yet "sexy" like a "mouse you want to stick your dick in." Are you trying to tell me something Blockbuster man? Ew. Just...ew.

Now, that's not the worst of it. The other person that people like to tell me that I look like (including my dear, dear husband) is FLO from the Progressive Insurance Commercials.

Seriously? I don't think I look ANYTHING like her. And she is a total spaz. I'm not a spaz, am I? Am I? Wait, don't answer that. Moving right along...

I just wouldn't mind someone pulling me aside at the grocery store and saying "Wow, you look just like "insert gorgeous, glamorous celebrity here" instead of "that nerdy chick from that movie" or "that hyper lady from that commercial." Is that too much to ask? Really?

I guess I need to start wearing my evening gown out to the grocery store from now on...so who do people tell YOU you look like?

I Eat Turkey In a Big Brown Shoe

The title of this post is inspired by my husband who loves the Turkey song by Adam Sandler because I couldn't think up a title for this post and yesterday him and his friend were going back and forth quoting the song. So gobble gobble goo, gobble gobble gickle honey. Thanks.

Today is the day of my obligatory Thanksgiving post because tomorrow I will be super busy impregnating myself with a massive food baby consisting of turkey, mashed potatoes, carrots, green beans, and corn bread. I already did a "things I am grateful for" post last week, so instead, today I am just going to list all the people I want to thank on this Thanksgiving. Man, I hope I don't leave anyone out. And if I leave you out, please email me and let me know and I will add you. Here goes:

1. My husband, for his love and support, for putting up with my craziness, ups and downs and the fact that sometimes I don't match up his socks right

2. My kids, for teaching me patience every day and giving me more love than I have ever imagined I could ever know.

3. My mother, who has always been the best mother a girl could EVER have, has saved my ass countless times and never, ever judged me.

4. My father, who has never given up helping us with our house and has taught us so much about home building, being an incredible husbandand father, and patience.

5. My sisters, who are all so different and have all given me so much in so many different ways. Finally, after 30 years, they are all beautiful friends and cherished family.

6. My in-laws, who have given me a roof over my head and have taught me tolerance and patience in truckloads.

7. My friends, who show me love and support every day, are so incredibly fun and are always there for me when I need them.

8. My fellow bloggers, who have welcomed me into a community that has helped me grow as a writer, a person and a friend. I would not be who I am today without them.

9. My stepson's school, who is going to help us out this Christmas with gifts for the kids because they found out that I lost my job. It will never cease to amaze me when people actually step up and help others out of the kindness of their own hearts.

10. The federal government for having unemployment, because even though it was a pain in the everloving ass signing up for it, I am very, very lucky to have it.

11. My former employer, for giving me a severance, even though I wouldn't need the severance if they hadn't let me go, but I won't go there.

12. The Jonas Brothers, just for being them.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I hope you take the time tomorrow to thank the people in your life that make it a little bit better.

And wear stretchy pants.

Dear Children, Santa is Not Recession-Proof

I had the dreaded conversation with my 9-year-old yesterday about how this Christmas might be a little "different" than past years. Different meaning instead of a Christmas tree with gifts bursting with gifts from underneath it, he would probably be able to count his gifts on one hand. Now, of course, I didn't say that to him but that is the ultimate reality of the situation. Whereas every other year this child has spent HOURS on Christmas morning ripping open presents with wild abandon, this years it's going to be a reindeer of a different color. And I wanted him to be prepared. But how much (and how in the world without breaking his Christmas spirit) do you explain to a 9-year-old about unemployment, insufficient funds and the reality that there is an unfortunate lack of cute little elves in America to make gifts to place under the tree?

(Luckily my 3-year-old asked for a hula hoop for Christmas, then said she changed her mind and said she wanted a chair for her bedroom, and when I told her she could have both, she said "It's a Christmas miracle!!!!" so I am not worried about that one.)

So this is what I decided. He knows I lost my job. So I said to him that, since I lost my job, this Christmas was going to be a little on the "light side" since we needed our money for the important things like food and our house, etc., etc. Of course he would still get gifts, but he was probably not going to get the amount of gifts he has gotten in the past. I followed that up with Christmas isn't about the presents, it's about being with your family, and enjoying time together and loving each other, and we are so very lucky because we have each other and our health and somewhere to live and food to eat. His immediate reaction, which I knew would be the case, was "But there will still be lots of gifts from Santa."

So I said "But things are tough for Santa too this year honey."

Why not? Why the hell not? I mean, I know that Santa is magical and everything, but really, how much magic is there to go around? There has to be a shortage eventually and couldn't there be a magical recession? Maybe the elves aren't happy with their benefits or want better hours, and can't quite keep up with toy production. Looking at it logically, even Santa can't escape some ups and downs. So yes, I went there. I pulled that card--the very last one in the deck, and I am OK with it.

Because this is probably one of the last years that he is going to believe in Santa Claus. And God forbid there are only four gifts under that tree and he gives me that look that says "Now I know. You have been lying to me all these years. And you didn't even have the balls to tell me the truth. Pussy." I'm just not ready for that yet. He deserves to believe for a little while longer. So this year I will do my best to give him whatever we can, and we will say it is from Santa and that he did his best but times are tough up in the North Pole. And instead of hundreds of gifts, he will get the other stuff he always gets on Christmas in tenfold. His family. Lots of hugs and kisses. And magic. Lots and lots of magic. In the form of those cookies being eaten and the milk being drank and the reindeer prints on the fireplace hearth.

And I swear if any of his friends tell him that Santa is recession-proof I am going to their house and smashing their XBox into a million little pieces.

1-2-3 Magic, Thank You For Being You

We have been having quite the crisis around my house lately. No, not the one where I lost my jobs. No, not the one where I have lost my mind with stress and depression over having lived with my in-laws for five years, the entire length of my marriage. No, the one I am talking about is the one in which my 3 1/2-year-old daughter, the former angel baby, glorious sleeper and perfectly behaved little model child decided that being well behaved was, like, totally 2008 and she was going to do what all the "cool toddlers" were doing and make everybody's life miserable.

What a little joiner.

I've talked about it before; how the week before she turned 3 it was like a switch flipped and she became a different child. Well, that was nothing folks. Because that child was Cindy fucking-Loo-Hoo compared to the Damian clone that has been running our household for the past month or so. She's bossy, she's obnoxious, she's whiny, she's demanding. Oh, and did I mention she was abusive? Yeah, mommy was getting punched, hit, kicked, scratched, bitten, and pinched on a daily basis, and was about ready to run away from home and join some welcoming group of gypsies if it didn't come to an end.

But all this began right about when my hours increased with work. And, working from home, as you can imagine, this meant that less attention was paid to her. Also, I was more stressed and had less patience. This created a vicious cycle of her feeling ignored, acting out, me overreacting and losing my patience, her getting out of control, then me giving her her way just to get some peace so I could work.

Not good. Not good at all.

Then I lost my jobs. Bad news, yes. More stress? Yes. Toddler's behavior? Ten times worse. We all know that kids are like dogs and bees. They can smell fear. And she could tell something was wrong with the family and acted out accordingly. So last week was probably the worst week we had ever had and an all time low in my parenting career. But I got smart, and remembered what we did when my stepson was completely unmanageable as a toddler. We called on people much smarter, more experienced and less messed up than we were. Out came the parenting books.

The one parenting book that we found to be extremely helpful with my stepson, who happens to be ADHD and had severe speech and developmental delays and learning disabilities as a toddler (now only struggles with the ADHD, has a come a LONG way and doing really well) was 1-2-3 Magic. It was easy and effective and we ended up using it for years with him. We even used a modified, watered down version of the technique of it up until now with our daughter, but had gotten away from being completely consistent, which is key with this program. So I made a command decision this week, that I was going to get the new edition of the book, read it cover to cover and devote myself to carrying it out and making a positive change in our household.

I forgot how hard the first few days were. I felt like a zookeeper in a crazy zoo full of psychotic animals who won't stay in their cages. One, two, three, time out. One, two, three, time out. One, two, three, time out. All. Day. Long.

Good thing I was out of a job.

Day 2 wasn't much better. We spent most of the day counting and putting her in time out. But she seemed to understand the system better and would anticipate the third count and know she was going to time out and wish she hadn't pushed her limits. This was promising. It gave me hope for Day 3. And at least I got 3 minutes of peace every time I put her in time out in my bedroom about 50 times a day which equals approximately 150 minutes of peace for mommy. That's not bad for a mom who has not been getting ANY peace for months. I savored it.

Day 3 (yesterday) yielded much better results. It started off on shaky ground, and she was in time out within 30 minutes of waking up, but then she went to preschool and came home a different child. She didn't get a time out ALL AFTERNOON. Yes, she got to 2 quite a few times, but never got to 3. And there were a few times she said out loud, "if I get to 3, I get a time out," almost like a little toddler mantra, reminding herself to behave, and not only was it adorable, but it was a perfect little internalizing tool for self monitoring. I almost cheered out loud when I heard her say it.

So I think we are going to be OK. I know it isn't the end of the road. I know we are still going to have a lot of tough days, and she may regress to her rotten behavior and we will have to start all over again, but at least I know I have a plan. I know what to do.

And as a wise man once said, knowing is half the battle.

Help for Anissa Mayhew

This is taken from The Spohrs Are Multiplying, about Anissa Mayhew of Aiming Low, whom you may know from around the blogging community, Twitter, etc. She's hilariously funny, sweet and talented and tragically suffered a stroke yesterday:


12 pm Eastern UPDATE FROM ANISSA’S HUSBAND:

What we know is she had a massive stroke.

She bled into the brainstem and pons areas of the brain. She is no longer sedated but still unconcious and unresponsive. Vitals are mostly stable except for a lowgrade fever most likely due to the damage to the pons. The pons control the bodies ability to regulate temperature. She is still on a vent and it is unclear if she is capable of breathing on her own. She has had an mri/mra/ct today. An eeg is pending. We’re in a waiting game now for survival first, and ultimately for her to wake up.

—————

As you may have heard, Anissa, our beloved friend and leader at Aiming Low, suffered a stroke on Tuesday afternoon. She is in the hospital right now, in the ICU.

More than anything, Anissa needs your prayers and positive thoughts but to the many people in the Atlanta area who have offered help to the Mayhew family, we have set up a form for you to fill out so we can have everyone’s contact info in one place (please be assured your information will be kept private). If you are NOT in the Atlanta area but still want to help, you can also leave your information on that form.

Things that would be helpful right now are gift cards to restaurants and gift cards to the movies or to Blockbuster (to help keep the kids occupied) and gas/hotel gift cards for her extended family. We will be setting up a PO Box on Wednesday and posting the address here along with any updates. Please don’t send anything to the hospital or the Mayhew home. If you have questions, please email helpforanissa@gmail.com

We ask that you please respect the Mayhew family’s privacy by NOT calling the hospital and we thank you all SO MUCH for your outpouring of love and support for Anissa and her family.

With thanks and love,
The Aiming Low Team

UPDATE: An address has been set up to send cards and packages:
860 Johnson Ferry Road 140-184
Atlanta, GA 30342

How Unemployment Got Me Out of a Ticket

Well, I have something else to be grateful for today. My unfortunate situation of finding myself without a job has gotten me out of a speeding ticket, however, you might say that I wouldn't have been in the situation of getting the ticket in the first place if it weren't for the unfortunate unemployment, but that's neither here not there. Here's what happened.

This morning I went to the unemployment office for the second time to apply for my benefits of which I have been paying into for years and have never taken advantage of. I have never actually even LOST a job, nevermind collected unemployment. I have never been fired, never laid off, have always left jobs of my own free will. Thus, I have never had the wonderful experience of applying for unemployment. Well, little did I know that they like to make it as difficult as possible. Like pull your hair out of your head, want to scream and kill someone difficult.

The first day I got there at 10:00 and there were NO appointments available so I was told to come back at 8:30 a.m. when they opened to snag a spot on another day and that it was first come, first served. So I lined up day care AGAIN today and got there at 8:39 a.m. (because I hit traffic) and was told the first spot that was available was 2:00. Unfortunately, I did not have day care at 2:00. So I turned on my heel and left. Again. Irritated and emotional, I got in my car and pulled out of the parking lot.

As I drove down the street, fuming and frustrated, those tell tale blue lights started blinking in my rearview mirror. I looked at my speedometer to find that, yes, indeed, I was doing about 40-something in a 30 mph zone. My theory about puppy drowning and Nazi supporting was starting to really make sense because yes, I was being PULLED OVER as I pulled out of the unemployment office. They must have been REALLY cute puppies. I felt like I was in a bad sitcom. I could already feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

By the time the police officer strode up to my driver's side window, tears were already streaming down my face and I handed him my registration and my debit card.

"Sorry, I don't take credit cards" he said with a smirk.

And I burst into hysterical tears.

I wish I had a camera to capture the look on this cop's face. I went on to blubber uncontrollably "I just left the unemployment office and they turned me away AGAIN and I have to go get my daughter and I don't have any more day care for her because I can't afford it anymore and I don't know what I am going to do and really officer I never speed ever my husband tells me I am such an old lady driver and I am really, really sorry. Really."

His face softened. He took my license and registration. And he said something I have never heard a police officer say ever in my life.

"It's going to be OK."

I wiped my tears away and tried to smile. He went on to tell me about how his son was out of work and he had a lot of friend who were unemployed and we chatted about how hard it was out there right now. He was actually really sweet. By the end of it, I thought he was going to reach through the window and give me a hug. He told me he was just going to give me a written warning and that he wished me the best of luck with everything. And with a big, warm smile, he was gone.

And that, my friends, is how unemployment got me out of a ticket. Although I have a sneaking suspicion it had more to do with my pathetic crying.

I'm So Bleepin' Thankful it Hurts, AKA The One Where I Lose My Job

Yup, so I lost my job. Wait, correction. I lost my JOBSSSSS. The last two. My full time editing job AND my column at Toy With Me are gone, gone, gone, gone daddy gone, as the Violent Femmes would say. I'm not sure what I did in a previous life to deserve losing both my jobs in the same week but I am only guessing that it's something akin to drowning adorable puppies while supporting Adolf Hitler. However, after taking a week to be a miserable, sobbing mess and feeling awful for myself, I have decided to crawl out from under the proverbial rock I have been under and throw myself back into life (and blogging) because hell, what else is there to do!

The first thing on my agenda is to take stock, during this time of intense sucktastic-ness of the things that I have to be grateful for. So here they are, in no particular order:

1. Now that I am unemployed, I have TONS of time to blog.

2. My kids have only gotten colds this winter season (knock on wood) and some families have really been hit hard with H1N1.

3. Since losing my job, my husband has been amazingly supportive and sweet and it seems to be bringing us closer together to be faced with the possibility of our impending failure at life.

4. I have no loved ones overseas or that have been injured or killed in the war.

5. Unemployment. Nuff said.

6. Now I have no excuse not to work out so I plan on getting into smokin' hot shape.

7. The Jonas Brothers.

8. Now I can concentrate on finishing my book and hopefully get a book deal.

9. My house is almost done, and as long as we can stay afloat for the next few months and not go into foreclosure, we will be moving in at the beginning of the year and out of my in-laws house.

10. The Jonas Brothers.

Yes, I know I listed the Jonas Brothers twice. But they are really helping me get through this tough time right now. Heh. Don't judge me. I am not drinking excessively or doing drugs. So what if I have a little obsession with some young, tight pants wearin' purity ring-sportin' teen idols?

Shut up.

OK, so here's the plan. On Saturday I am bringing my daughter to an open casting call for child modeling/acting since she is such a little ham and keeps telling me she wants to be famous. So I figure we get her to start bringing home the bacon, and I can live off her fame and fortune for a few years until my book takes off, then I'll tour the country and get famous myself and my family and friends will never have to worry about money again because I will HAVE THEIR BACKS.

What do you think? Good plan? I think so. I might be slightly delusional, but it's OK, it's my defense mechanism right now and it's keeping me from not showering and sitting around eating Ben and Jerry's all day in dirty sweat pants and holey tee shirts. I figure by the time I need a real plan, I will probably be lucid again.

At least we can hope so :)

This Little Piggy Went to Market, This Little Piggy Stayed Home...With Swine Flu

OK, I am officially freaked out.

I was remaining so calm and level headed about the whole swine flu epidemic, and wasn't giving into the mass panic that the media seemed hell bent on creating on the outbreak. I decided to give my kids the vaccine, and even when the doctor's office called me the day before their appointment and told me they were out and did not have any idea whether they would be getting anymore, I still didn't get nervous. But now, it has hit close to home, and it is now safe to say that I am worried.

My cousin's daughter, who we trick or treated with, hugged, kissed, and shared air with all night Friday and who hung out with my kids all day yesterday, has H1N1. She was diagnosed this morning and since it is contagious for up to 24 hours before symptoms begin, we may have been exposed and my kids were definitely exposed.

Ugh.

This is all I need right now. I am already up half the night unable to sleep because of all my anxieties about money, work and getting our house done. Now I get to have scary visions of my whole household coming down with swine flu, totally disrupting whatever semblance of balance we currently have. I know that most people only get a mild version, and that most people who get really sick or die have pre-existing conditions that make them at-risk, but I have to admit, I AM FREAKING OUT.

I thought maybe we would float through this pandemic like immunity rock stars, that maybe, just maybe, the universe had decided that we had enough shit on our plates and they might let this shit storm slide. My fingers are crossed. I am saying a novena and doing a Wiccan spell tonight. And I am going out to buy a CASE of Purell tomorrow. I will BATHE my children in it if I have to.

You better watch out Piggy Flu. You don't know who you're messing with. A mommy scorned is NOT one to mess with.

I Totally Suck at Life

Yes, you read that correctly. Lately, I suck at life. How can you possibly suck at life, you may be asking. Especially since that is the one and only reason we were created--to LIVE--so how could someone suck at their primary instinct? I don't know, all I know is that I do. HARD.

I can't write for shit. I am working all the time and still not getting all my work done. The house is a mess, the kids don't get enough attention, and I haven't cooked dinner in a week. To top it all off, I got sick AGAIN (after just having a bad cold about three weeks ago) so apparently my immune system is malfunctioning, which is further proof that I SUCK AT LIFE.

I can't think straight or remember anything. I feel like I am putting in 110% of my energy and only accomplishing about 50% of what needs to be done. I am irritable, unhappy and completely unmotivated.

I know, you didn't realize this was going to be such an inspiring, uplifting post, did you?

So basically, I just want to apologize to everyone for not posting, not reading blogs and commenting and not interacting much on Twitter. I'm not really sure how to remedy this predicament, but I have an inkling it may require large doses of psychotropic drugs and possibly a lobotomy.

If I am not drooling and staring into space in a vegetative state by next week, I will let you all know how it is progressing. In the meantime, Happy Halloween. Any guess what my costume is?

Yes, you guessed it, a ZOMBIE MOM. I think it's quite fitting really.

Boobs, Glorious Boobs

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I'm Everywhere

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Sex and The Suburbs Blog Launches Today!

What are you doing here??? Get over to the Sex and The Suburbs blog NOW.

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Jonas Brothers, How Do We Love Thee?

Thousands of screaming pre-pubescent girls filled Mohegan Sun Arena waiting for the magical moment when the objects of their obsession would take the stage and serenade them with songs of teen angst, love and rock and roll.

There we were. Right in the middle of all of it.

And it. Was. Awesome.

The day started with my dear, little angel waking up at 6 a.m. As I entered her bedroom, she shot up out of bed and cried "IT'S JONAS BROTHERS DAY!!!!!'

Indeed, in fact, it was. But we weren't leaving for another five hours...

We spent the morning counting down the minutes until it was time to get ready.

Here she is right before we left:

Her tee-shirt says "Biggest Little Jonas Brothers Fan" and yes, her super crafty, uber devoted mother made it for her (THAT'S ME). I even ironed on the sequined guitar and silver stars on the back. I RULE.


Here she is practicing her "I am so cute you can't stand it" face.

This is her "Enough pictures Mom, let's GO" face.

So off we went. Here she is in the car on the way. The excitement was mounting:

And after about an hour and 50 minutes, we made it there. Little did I know that not only would she be the biggest little Jonas Brothers fan, but did you know that teenage girls LOVE 3-year-old little girls? Yeah, I felt like we were with the band or something, the way they all gushed over her and how cute she was. People stopped just to talk to us and one nice mom with her daughter offered to take our picture. Here it is:

Then we waited outside the arena in a sea of young girls, and my little social butterfly made friends with even MORE people. Here she is outside, waiting to go in:

There was a lot of squealing and bouncing. And it was hot because we were squeezed in like sardines. This was not my favorite part of the day.

But then it was time to go in. So we made our way through the doors and found our seats. Here we are sitting in Section 21, Row U, seats 13 and 14:

She had her glow stick and she was ready to rock. Here is the view of the stage from our seats:

The opening act was The Wonder Girls. And let me tell you, there was nothing wonderful about them. They sucked big time. But then it was time for the JoBros. The excitement in the air was palpable and Baby Girl just kept saying "it's Jonas Brothers time, isn't it?" while bouncing up and down in her seat. I might have been just a little bit excited too. I didn't bounce though. Really. OK, maybe a little...

The show began. The boys were adorable. The music was great, and the energy from the thousands of screaming girls made me feel young again. But watching my daughter dance her little heart out was the best part. And when she screamed at me "Get up and DANCE Mommy!!!" I got up and danced with her. It was just pure, unadulterated joy. Here she is rocking out:

The show was actually pretty short, so about an hour and a half later, we were filing out of the arena and battling the crowds again. But the fun didn't stop there. We didn't get to meet the Jonas Brothers, but there was this in the lobby that you would have thought was the Jonas Brothers themselves when my daughter caught sight of it:

How can you go wrong with a day of screaming girls, an incredibly good looking and talented boy band show AND an animatronic wolf on the top of a huge rock waterfall?

It doesn't get any better than that folks.

And she is already asking when we get to go again.

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

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Not Even Close To Wordless Wednesday: Good News/Bad News

OK, so we will start with some good news. My daughter started dance class on Monday and she LOVES it. Here she is showing off some of her sweet moves:

But now we move on to some bad news. My debit card got hacked and some loser scumbag asshat charged about $250 worth of Boos Mobile minutes and Asian food using it. Thankfully, I found the first charge last Friday night and called immediately so it could have been much worse. Also, thankfully, I did not have much money in there so they couldn't make any big purchases. One of the only times when being broke is a good thing. But what really sucked was that I was planning on buying some Jonas Brothers tickets for me and my daughter, and since it was going to take seven days to get my money back and the concert is this weekend, I was pretty sure that dream was down the toilet. HOWEVER, a little angel who restored my faith in humanity made it possible. So, yes, the next piece of good news is...

My little girl and I are taking a girls road trip and going to The Jonas Brothers this weekend!!!!!!!!!

We are just a little bit excited. And by just a little bit, I mean that she has woken up every morning this week asking if it's time to go see The Jonas Brothers. And I might be putting quite a bit of thought into what to wear and how to do my hair so I don't look like an old, desperate cougar amongst all the screaming tween girls. But no matter what, we are going to have a blast, because they really do put on an awesome show and live music is always AWESOME.

Ok, now for some more bad news. Yesterday I started getting sick. So I have been pumping myself full of fluids, taking Vitamin C and Zinc and hubby came home and made me chicken soup last night. So I am working very hard on getting better by Saturday so I am able to fully enjoy the Jonas Brothers experience.

Good news! The Sex and The Suburbs blog is going to launch next week! I know, I know, you just can't contain yourselves! So Monday, I will be posting a link to the very first Sex and The Suburbs post at its new home, and I expect all of you to come, read, comment and get in on the discussions. I really need you. And you. Yes, you too. Don't try to hide over there in the corner, I see you. And I need you too.

So, I will end on that positive note, instead of the other piece of bad news I have cause it's really not THAT bad and I am all about looking on the bright side. Heh.

Happy Wednesday!

Sexting, The Jonas Brothers and a New Pair of Uggs

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Beyonce, Eat Your Heart Out...

I have to post this because I am just amazed at the pure, raw talent that my daughter possesses already at 3 years old. But I would like to preface this by saying that it was HER idea (even the leotard and the patent leather shoes) and I am NOT going to be a stage mom.

With that being said, enjoy! May it bring a smile to your face on this Monday!

Happy Birthday To Me

Today I am 30.

I started out like this:


I wish I looked like this:


But I actually look like this:


And that's OK, because I have this:

Not bad for 30 years, if I say so myself.

There is a God, and He Created Slimwear

How have I not realized that there is a product out there that could have completely changed my life three years ago? How could I have not been schooled in the true miracle that is slimming shapewear? For realz ladies, my life will never be the same, and it is all because of these:


Why there is not a mandatory class on slimming foundational garments for all women over the age of 18, I will never understand. I am reeling at all the form-fitting dresses and awesome jeans that I could have worn all these years, with nary a bulge or muffin top. They are comfortable, completely discreet and come in a variety of colors and styles to compliment any wardrobe and make you look smokingly slim and firm.

I am in love.

And all because while lamenting over the muffin toppiness, I decided to try using my belly band from when I was pregnant to see if it sucked things in enough to smooth out the bumps. And it did. And that got me thinking...maybe there is a garment made specifically for this purpose NOT for pregnant women, but just for us chubby mommies who need a little sucking and tucking in. I knew that there were corsets and other torturous equipment out there, and I had even heard of Spanx, but strangley thought Spanx were something completely different from what they actually are...don't ask. But I really didn't know that there are DOZENS of companies that make these camisols and body shaping thingies that don't suffocate you nor make you look like an old lady.

Oh, how naive and ignorant I have been.

The best part? They are not that expensive! But, honestly, I would pay through the nose for anything that made me look thinner. Seriously, these things take off at least 10 pounds and smooth everything out.

I am wearing one every day. I am wearing one to bed (although I am interested to see what happens the first time hubby tries to undress me while I am wearing one, cause really, they are kinda like sausage casings and I have to pull out my best contortionist impression when donning it and removing it myself...). But it's a small price to pay for banishing my muffin top.

So ladies, if you haven't checked out these miracle garments, please do. You will thank me for it when you are strutting around town in your skinny jeans with confidence.

By the way, nobody is paying me to endorse this product in any way shape or form, I just felt I needed to share this new discovery with all the other moms or muffin-topped ladies like me out there. How about you, what is your beauty secret you just can't live without?

I am reeling about all the things that could be out there that I don't know about.

A product that removes cellulite and simultaneously charges your ipod perhaps? A cell phone that prevents wrinkles? Come on ladies, don't hold back on me--DISH!

If Anniversaries Were Nickels, We'd Have a Quarter

Today marks five years that I have been married to this guy here:

FIVE YEARS!

I can't believe it. A lot has happened in the past five years.

**We moved in with my in-laws**

**We bought a house**

**We had a baby**

**We fought**

**We made up**

**We loved**

**We yelled**

**We kissed**

**We laughed**

**And we cried**

But with everything that has happened in the past five years, one thing has always been for sure.

We have done it together.

Here's to many, many more, my love.

Farewell to Sex and The Suburbs

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A Day Late And a Dollar Short

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Not Very Wordless Wednesday: Third Grade, Here He Comes--Hold Your Nose!

I wasn't allowed to take pictures of him at the end of the driveway.

He insisted on picking out his first day of school outfit, complete with skulls on the front of the shirt AND the back pocket of the jeans.

The other day he had actual REAL manly B.O.

I almost cried as he walked off to the third grade today.

But then I reminded myself that he still needed me to tuck him in at night...even with stinky armpits.

Check back tomorrow after I drop this one off at her first day of preschool:

It's going to be an entirely different story.

Sex and The Suburbs: Moms and Porn

Head over to SexIs for this week's edition of Sex and The Suburbs, where I lay it all out and tell you what I honestly think about porn and where it fits into being a mom and a wife. If you have anything to say about it, please click here and tell me your opinion!

And, as always, if you haven't taken my motherhood and sex survey, click here and take it!

Thanks moms!

Random Tuesday Thoughts: Toy With Me, Preschool and The Third Grade Blues

No, you are not hallucinating, I am participating in RANDOM TUESDAY THOUGHTS for the first time in, oh, four months, six days and 22 hours or so (not that I am keeping count). So yeah, head over to Keely's, grab the button and regurgitate some random thoughts of your own. I forgot how much fun it is; seriously, it's better than therapy and you don't get your husband looking at you with that blank stare, grunting "uh-huh."

-Have you been to ToyWithMe.com? Well, if you haven't, you need to get your ass over there, because 1. It's awesome, and 2. It's going to be even more awesome later this week when I begin writing a bi-weekly column on motherhood, marriage, sex, and relationships. Yes people, this Wise Young Mommy has a new gig, so you can get your fix even more often.

What more could you ask for?

-In two short weeks, my 3-year-old daughter will start preschool (SOB, GASP, HICCUP) and my 9-year-old stepson starts third grade. One is very excited for the new adventure, the other not so much. Can you guess which is which? Well, let me just tell you this: when asked if he was excited to go back to school, the 9-year-old Playstation Prodigy replied, with a look that could only be described as utter disgust, "No." That's it. No elaboration, no diatribe on the evils of third grade, just No, plain and simple. I think he is in denial.

-Speaking of denial, I was totally denied a car through Cash for Clunkers so I am starting to think that this whole "government helping us" thing really isn't working. What is up with telling us last week that there was another $2 billion available for all of us driving gasoline guzzling tanks and then ripping it out from underneath us with merely three days' notice? Yeah, not so thrilled with that. My dreams of owning my very first brand new car have been trampled on and squashed. Off I go to the used car dealerships...

-I found THE perfect pair of jeans that make me feel like a sexy, bootylicious slighter fatter (but still smokin' hot), much whiter version of Beyonce. The funny thing is: I have NO idea where they came from. I already asked my husband, calmly and rationally, if he was having an affair with a woman exactly my size who shops at American Eagle, and after he got over being completely offended and self-righteous, he denied said allegations and I was back to wondering how this pair of denim heaven ended up in my laundry basket. The only thing I can think of is that my stepson's mother ended up putting them in his bag by accident, which is unfortunate, because guess what? She's not gettin' these suckers back. They are mine now. My ass would be lost without them. Don't judge me. It isn't very often you find the perfect pair of jeans that flattens your tummy, hugs your ass in all the right spots and slims your thunder thighs.

OK, I think that's all the randomness I have in me today. Remember to go check out Keely at The Un-Mom and also go visit ToyWithMe.com and start subscribing so you don't miss out on any of the awesomeness!

Happy Random Tuesday! It feels good to be back.

Sex and The Suburbs: The Celebumom Phenomenon

This week the Sex and The Suburbs topic is celebumoms and the mainstream media and how we let ourselves feel bad because of their unrealistic mixed messages. Head on over and check it out--you might relate (or maybe you totally disagree). However you feel, drop me a line by clicking on the link and giving me some feedback or letting me know what you would like to see fleshed out in an upcoming column:

Click Here To Leave Feedback

And if you haven't taken my motherhood and sex survey (and you are indeed a mother), please click on this link to take it:

Click Here To Take Survey

As always, both of these are completely anonymous, so be honest, open up and let me know what's REALLY on your mind ladies!

Learning From Our Mistakes

"It was just a mistake!"

This is what my daughter now immediately responds with when she does something to get in trouble, such as turn her Playdough bucket upside down, thus covering the livingroom floor in little pieces of dried up playdough and gazillions of little plastic molds and cookie cutters or squirting her juice box creating a six inch stream of juice, or as she just did literally five seconds ago, eating half a bottle of fluoride free toddler toothpaste.

Apparently she has figured out that, in this touchy feely age of parenting in which we are raising our spawn, "everyone makes mistakes" and they are always forgiven. So now wreaking havoc on the household is not, in fact, the acts of a depraved, heathen-esque toddler, but just the mis-steps of a misguided, misunderstood little girl. But because she is sweet, says she is sorry and calls her acts of depravity "mistakes," it's OK and Mommy is going to say "Oh honey, don't worry, everyone makes mistakes."

Unfortunately, this Mommy responds with putting her in time out with a puzzled look on her face as she screams "But Mommy, it was just a mistake!!!"

So how do you explain to a 3-year-old that there is a difference between doing something undesirable without the intent to create chaos and doing something naughty, all the while knowing quite well that it's naughty but then backpedaling by using the "mistake" excuse? A mistake is something you shouldn't have done, correct? In her mind, it's all the same. On one hand, my daughter is very, very smart, but on the other hand, she is still 3. And 3-year-olds subscribe to their own brand of logic that is not easily penetrated by adult rationalization.

So I guess until the day that I can sit her down and explain the difference between intentional actions and unintentional actions, I suppose she is just going to have to learn from these "mistakes." Perhaps she will see a trend in the fact that she gets in trouble for hitting her brother in the face and she doesn't get in trouble when she accidentally spills her cup of juice. And maybe one of these days she will remember how much trouble she got into for pouring Mommy's coffee on her laptop and realize that that is one mistake she does not want to make again.

And in the meantime, I will not be keeping any liquids anywhere near my laptop when my daughter is in the vicinity. See, I can learn from my mistakes too.

Sex and The Suburbs: The Dry Spell

Head on over to SexIs Magazine and read this week's edition of Sex and The Suburbs, all about the dreaded "dry spell." You know, moms, when you can't remember the last time you saw your husband naked and you are growing cobwebs on your hoo-ha? It happens to the best of us, but there are some ways of breaking out of it and you can read all about it!

Please ladies, I need more feedback from you on what you want me to write about for Sex and The Suburbs. Now you can offer up your stories, ideas, questions, and suggestions for what you would like to read about, completely anonymously, by clicking on this link:

Click Here to Make An Anonymous Suggestion

So head over to the "suggestion box" and sound off on what YOU would like to see in future columns! Thanks!!!

Puppies Are Cute And They Don't Make Your Ass Any Bigger

Yesterday two momentous things happened in one day that made me want to laugh and cry simultaneously. First, my daughter and I visited the preschool where she will be going two times a week for four hours come September. And second, my 3-year-old aquatic prodigy started swimming all on her own, without the aid of any kind of flotation device.

I am thinking that this means one of two things:

1. We need to have another baby because my baby is growing up too fast.

2. It's time to close up the uterus, get the two kids jobs and start planning for retirement.

Most likely scenario # 1 is going to win out since I am only (almost) 30, and I don't think I am ready to give up on dreams of another tiny, snuggly little poop machine. We're not ready for it right at this moment, but I think it is only a matter of time before I will start feeling phantom
baby kicks and the urge to have a baby take up residence again as I watch my first baby start to look at colleges and consider a career in medicine. Seriously, have I told you how smart she is? It's a little scary. I am expecting her to start preschool and come home reading and writing poetry and prose on the second day and then she won't need me for anything anymore.

First she wipes her own ass. Then she's writing dissertations. It's inevitable.

But, all joking aside, I am so incredibly proud of my little girl and all her achievements. I just wish it would slow down just a little bit.

Yesterday my 9-year-old stepson occupied himself by putting tiny water balloons in my 3-year-old's bathing suit to make her look like a little, miniature Pamela Anderson and I just about had a heart attack. She pranced around, swinging her hips and embracing her newfound curves, and I knew I was in so much trouble. Then he put them in the butt of her suit and you know what she said? "Look, I have a momma butt!"

Cute. Heh.

So I figure since I can't do anything to stop this growing up thing, the best I can do is enjoy all these new accomplishments with her, and consider having another baby to prolong the death of babyhood in the family. But then I look at my "momma butt" and I have second thoughts.

Maybe we should just get a puppy...

Sex and The Suburbs: If You're Freaky and You Know It, Clap Your Hands!

Today's Sex and The Suburbs column is all about getting a little kinky in the bedroom (and possibly coming away with some bruises and rope burn in the process). Some moms like a little bondage in the bedroom and why not? So how about you? Do you enjoy a little dominant/submissive role play or being handcuffed to the bedposts? Please share your stories and opinions with me!

As always, you can e-mail me at wiseyoungmommy@gmail.com or read the column and then come back and leave me a comment here with your thoughts, stories or questions. And if you are a mother, and you haven't taken my motherhood and sex survey, please click the link and take it now!!!

Click Here to take survey

This book isn't going to write itself and the more stories and feedback I get from real moms out there, the more informative and honest it is going to be. Please, help a momma out!

The Light At The End of The Tunnel

I have been living with my in-laws for five years.

Yes, this is where your eyes pop out of your head and you feel really bad for me, and preferably send me gifts to show your immense sympathy.

Three years ago this month, we bought a very old house that needed a LOT of work. Little did we know it would need about 347 times the amount of work that we thought it did, and that we would STILL be working on it three years later. Little did we also know that living in a tiny basement apartment with no windows while working from home with two children is likely to drive a mom completely and utterly insane. Sometimes I wonder if we would still have done it if we had known.

But we will never know that, and now we are in the final stages in completely rebuilding our home for us to finally move in. And although my nerves are shot and I am about one step away from rocking back and forth in the fetal position morning to night, we are almost there. We are mere months from being able to move all our possessions into our very own home, with windows and everything.

And I will finally be able to have friends over for play dates. I will be able to do laundry whenever I want to and my husband and I will be able to have sex as loud as we want to, in every room of the house, if we wish. My daughter will have a beautiful, pink princess room of her own instead of being shoved into a spare room full of old books and 30 years of unused Christmas gifts, and we will have closets of our very own--in every room. And all those fabulous gifts we got for our wedding five years ago will be brought out of storage and we will finally be able to enjoy them. To be honest, I don't even remember what half of them were. It will be like my wedding day all over again.

So, as difficult and emotionally tumultuous the past five years have been, and as back breaking and expensive as it has been to turn this 1850's structure into a habitable home, I don't regret it. Because in mere months, I will get to enjoy the freedom and space that I have been without for five years. My husband and I will get to re-acquaint ourselves with living together in our own home, and we will have a kitchen table at which we will sit around and have family dinners with our children. Things that we took for granted before will feel like the greatest gifts, and I will feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

I see the light at the end of the tunnel. And once we step into that light, we will never be in the dark again, because we will always know how lucky we truly are. Is there anything better than that?

I don't think so.