Quick post today, kiddies, but it's gross enough to make you think about it all day long.
I took the kids to the park yesterday straight from school to enjoy this gorgeous weather. In preparation, I made sure my middle one used the facilities at school before we left, but I had the potty in the back of the van just in case. So we get to the park and as we're exiting the vehicle, my oldest tells me she has to go to the bathroom. As you know, the pick up her school is curbside (like Chili's without the benefit of guacamole) so I didn't have an opportunity to have her use the loo, but I figured she must have gone in the three hours she was there, unlike my middle one who is basically a camel and will hold until her bladder is the size of a beach ball. We got to the park and daughter #1 asks if she can use the potty. I don't discriminate when it comes to port-a-potty usage having been there myself, so I set it up and shut the van doors to give her some privacy.
Moments later, I look through the tinted windows to see her holding her nose. Oh, no, you're saying. She didn't. Oh, yes, she did. My five year old daughter took a dump as big as a grapefruit in the potty in the car. Now what the hell was I going to do? The van was beginning to smell like the bathrooms at Yankee Stadium - I had to get rid of this thing. I gave her a few wipes and she took care of business after which, I tucked them in a dirty diaper of the baby's which I was throwing out in the park trash anyway. But I couldn't very well walk up to the garbage can in full sight of all the other moms and drop this huge HUMAN turd in the can. So, I did what any irresponsible dog owner would do. I found a tree hidden from view of the park and away from the van and tossed it where no one could step on it. Yes, I am embarrassed, but what was I going to do? Of course I had to do it without my girls seeing or the questions would have been endless. Oldest (loudly entering park): "Mommy, who's gonna clean up my poop?" Me (whispering through clenched teeth : "Shut up, kid."
So my apologies to anyone at Crestwood Park who found this monstrosity. No, it wasn't a great dane that did that, it was my fifty pound five year old.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Food of the gods
I have a problem. I think I am really, truly, addicted to peanut butter. I can not remember a day in the recent past when I have not consumed peanut butter, in one form or another, at least once. I used to have a pretty normal relationship with peanut butter. I had a jar in my pantry and occasionally would have some on a piece of toast, then I had kids. Once you have children, peanut butter becomes so central to your existence running out is akin to McDonald's running out of fries.
My children are not helping with my addiction as their appetite for this heavenly spread had increased and varied in its applications. Since they eschew most forms of animal flesh I'm happy they eat something containing protein and dole it out liberally. Their favorite manifestation - the cut-out peanut butter sandwich - is especially problematic since once I cut out the shape, I am left with the entire crust with which to plumb the depths of the peanut butter jar. And yes, they are total freaks and DO NOT like jelly with their peanut butter. We also eat it on apples, crackers, bagels and toast. This may not seem like a big deal to you until you realize one tablespoon has almost one hundred calories. One tablespoon? Please. That's the amount I lick off the knife while making the sandwiches. Never mind when I start in with my finger. Eeew. That sounds gross out loud.
It's gotten so bad my husband and I were watching The Biggest Loser and a trivia question came up asking how much peanut butter the average American eats in one year. To which my husband quipped, "A normal person, or Mary?" Smug asshole. He is free from peanut butter's evil grip as he is the sticky paws of chocolate and pie. Let's see how funny you are when they put up a bacon question, smart guy. He's right though. Manys the night I have sat next to him on the couch eating peanut butter directly from a jar with a spoon ala Dee from What's Happening? and wondered where the rest of the jar had gone at the end of the night.
I suppose there are worse things to be addicted to, booze for instance, but my situation is like an alcoholic working as a bartender. Will I ever be able to get this monkey off my back if constantly faced with it? Perhaps if I switch my kids to chunky style, which I find abhorrent and a crime against nature since it basically looks like a bag of half-digested peanuts instead of peanuts that have intentionally been ground smooth. My brother in-law was given a PB&J on rye made with chunky PB and strawberry jam while on an outing with a friend's family when he was nine years old - that woman should have been drawn and quartered.
For now I will comfort myself with the fact that my vice is full of protein which I need for nursing and healthy fats to raise my good cholesterol. Maybe when the kids get older and actually begin eating more than the nine foods currently in their repertoire it'll be easier to get over this vice. I tell my husband to become concerned when I start telling him every time he asks me for a favor "Gimme a quarter."*
*Which, if you do not know was Dee's catch phrase when Rog asked her not to tattle, get to YouTube immediately.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Baby Mama
I just got back from my hair place (or the SA-lon as hubby calls it) and I am shocked - shocked! - to report that Ashlee Simpson is pregnant. OK, well, maybe. It was US Weekly after all. Regardless, if it is true then she is yet another young, unmarried, celeb who apparently doesn't know how to use a condom and I am sick and tired of it.
For the record, I do not give damn whether or not these women, no, girls, are married or not. It's the fact that they do not have their lives together, decide to bring a child into the mix and then, by the glib way they talk about it, set an unrealistic example for young girls. Under the best circumstances, like having a supportive partner who, ideally, you live with, and being financially and emotionally secure, having a baby can seriously throw you for a loop. I was lucky enough to be in the ideal circumstance when I had each of my kids and each and every time I had days when I thought I was going to jump off a bridge. So when a teenager in Anywhere, USA is deciding whether or not to have sex and if so, whether or not to abstain until proper birth control is obtained she can relax, thanks to Jamie Lynn Spears, Jessica Alba, and, maybe, Ashlee Simpson, knowing that if she does, indeed, get pregnant, it's no big deal.
This trend feeds into my rage, in general, at the way pregnancy and motherhood are portrayed in the media. A pregnant belly is treated like an accessory and while I appreciate the subsequent increase in availability and chicness of maternity clothing, the real, stretch-marked, swollen-ankled truth about the physical demands of carrying a child are swept under the red carpet.
And after these celebs have their babies - wait, let me take a deep breath here to keep my blood pressure under control. OK, better. If I see one more fucking celebrity on the cover of a magazine with the caption "Body after baby!" I'm going to drive down to US Weekly's offices with a firearm. Let me say this for all of you who do not have children and for those of you who have had a child and weren't wearing your size 24 True Religion jeans five weeks later (I had to look up the size comparison since I know nothing about these weird, Euro-sizes) - IT IS NOT NORMAL TO BE BACK TO YOUR OLD BODY RIGHT AFTER YOU HAVE A BABY. Do you know why these women look so great? Because they have a staff. Someone else, other than them or their complaining husband, is getting up with their kid in the middle of the night so they can get a full eight hours of sleep in order to have enough energy to workout for two hours the next day while yet another person cares for their infant. After each baby, I barely had enough energy to stuff that third cookie in my mouth to give me a sugar rush to wake up and take care of my kids, never mind take a Boot Camp class. I loved, loved, loved Sarah Jessica Parker for saying during a post-baby interview that she was able to get back into shape so quickly only because she was lucky enough to have childcare which many new moms do not have.
The media, in its irresponsible praise of celeb moms does not mention the fact that the life of a celeb new mother looks so easy compared to yours because it is. They have someone to clean their homes, cook their healthy meals (or accept their Zone delivery), do their laundry, you name it, they don't have to do it. With all this extra time they can actually shower, or even brush their hair - imagine! But the most glaring oversight is the fact that these new moms return to work and their lives carry on as if they'd never had a child. And it is this that makes me the most angry. The average, young, single mother out there struggles and sacrifices. Many can barely cover the cost of the daycare that allows them to work. So when a young girls is making important decisions about her life and sees these images in the media she may think, "Hey! Jessica Alba can do it. So can I, even though I'm only sixteen, live with my parents have haven't graduated from high school."
Yeah, yeah, I know. It's the parents' responsibility to make sure their kids make the right choices and the media shouldn't be parenting our children, but for some kids that's the case. And while US Weekly and OK only care about selling magazines, celebrities should care about being role models for their audiences. For all that money we pay them by buying albums and movie tickets, so they can hire four nannies to tend to one baby, the least we can ask for is a little honesty. Even if it's only to say, "How do I look so good after my baby? A lot of money. A lot of money and Spanx."
For the record, I do not give damn whether or not these women, no, girls, are married or not. It's the fact that they do not have their lives together, decide to bring a child into the mix and then, by the glib way they talk about it, set an unrealistic example for young girls. Under the best circumstances, like having a supportive partner who, ideally, you live with, and being financially and emotionally secure, having a baby can seriously throw you for a loop. I was lucky enough to be in the ideal circumstance when I had each of my kids and each and every time I had days when I thought I was going to jump off a bridge. So when a teenager in Anywhere, USA is deciding whether or not to have sex and if so, whether or not to abstain until proper birth control is obtained she can relax, thanks to Jamie Lynn Spears, Jessica Alba, and, maybe, Ashlee Simpson, knowing that if she does, indeed, get pregnant, it's no big deal.
This trend feeds into my rage, in general, at the way pregnancy and motherhood are portrayed in the media. A pregnant belly is treated like an accessory and while I appreciate the subsequent increase in availability and chicness of maternity clothing, the real, stretch-marked, swollen-ankled truth about the physical demands of carrying a child are swept under the red carpet.
And after these celebs have their babies - wait, let me take a deep breath here to keep my blood pressure under control. OK, better. If I see one more fucking celebrity on the cover of a magazine with the caption "Body after baby!" I'm going to drive down to US Weekly's offices with a firearm. Let me say this for all of you who do not have children and for those of you who have had a child and weren't wearing your size 24 True Religion jeans five weeks later (I had to look up the size comparison since I know nothing about these weird, Euro-sizes) - IT IS NOT NORMAL TO BE BACK TO YOUR OLD BODY RIGHT AFTER YOU HAVE A BABY. Do you know why these women look so great? Because they have a staff. Someone else, other than them or their complaining husband, is getting up with their kid in the middle of the night so they can get a full eight hours of sleep in order to have enough energy to workout for two hours the next day while yet another person cares for their infant. After each baby, I barely had enough energy to stuff that third cookie in my mouth to give me a sugar rush to wake up and take care of my kids, never mind take a Boot Camp class. I loved, loved, loved Sarah Jessica Parker for saying during a post-baby interview that she was able to get back into shape so quickly only because she was lucky enough to have childcare which many new moms do not have.
The media, in its irresponsible praise of celeb moms does not mention the fact that the life of a celeb new mother looks so easy compared to yours because it is. They have someone to clean their homes, cook their healthy meals (or accept their Zone delivery), do their laundry, you name it, they don't have to do it. With all this extra time they can actually shower, or even brush their hair - imagine! But the most glaring oversight is the fact that these new moms return to work and their lives carry on as if they'd never had a child. And it is this that makes me the most angry. The average, young, single mother out there struggles and sacrifices. Many can barely cover the cost of the daycare that allows them to work. So when a young girls is making important decisions about her life and sees these images in the media she may think, "Hey! Jessica Alba can do it. So can I, even though I'm only sixteen, live with my parents have haven't graduated from high school."
Yeah, yeah, I know. It's the parents' responsibility to make sure their kids make the right choices and the media shouldn't be parenting our children, but for some kids that's the case. And while US Weekly and OK only care about selling magazines, celebrities should care about being role models for their audiences. For all that money we pay them by buying albums and movie tickets, so they can hire four nannies to tend to one baby, the least we can ask for is a little honesty. Even if it's only to say, "How do I look so good after my baby? A lot of money. A lot of money and Spanx."
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