Fashion Mags and I have different definitions

I am not fashionable.

My look is mostly Gap. Maybe some REI thrown in there. On a rare occasion maybe even some Express. Usually with and eau du baby.

I still love magazines though. I love flipping through the pages and seeing photos of glamorous women looking like I never ever will. Wearing outfits that cost more than my car.

It is really funny because a few really popular magazines have features that discuss getting designer looks for an affordable price. Keyword: affordable.

Instead of a $975 shoe buy the pair that is only $400. While $500 is a great amount of money, I cannot fathom spending $400 on a pair of heels that maybe, I'd wear twice. Let alone $975. I just can't imagine.

Maybe I am old. Maybe I have spend too much time shopping at Target. Maybe I am just unaware, out of touch, or just dim. But I cannot see spending 3x my car payment on shoes.

The same goes for strollers. I have my double stroller that I nearly choked buying at a cost of $250. I see people with strollers well over $1000. Really. A mortgage payment, in a stroller.

I walk, a lot. My stroller has a ton of miles on it. But $1000? If I suggested that, B would sign me in to get my head examined. If the stroller came with an au pair- then sure, but a device for pushing a child around? Not going to spend that kind of money on that- I just can't!

My mom rocks

In my drugged stupor I am singing it to the Drew Carey Show theme "Cleveland Rocks" clearly pain pills affect my sanity.

annnyway...

she does.

when we got home from the hospital I kind of waved and went to bed. My arm was numb and floppy.

I attempted eating, and puked, I attempted water, and puked.

As miserable as that was, and believe me it was, I did not have to worry about the kids. I did not have to worry about getting them fed, or dressed, or watching out for them I could focus on my aim at the toilet.

To be honest, I have no idea how she does it. She is amazing. She comes in and in some sort of flurry she leaves behind her a trail or organization and cleanliness. It is kind of scary. I have watched her and I am really not sure how she does it. It is like a miracle of some sort.

Tonight, she reorganized my refrigerator, after taking all of the shelves out and cleaning the darn thing out. She is just amazing.

When I was a teenager and a kid she did not seem nearly as awesome, how wrong I was.

Now the crappy parts. I feel like I will never be the great mother she is. I will never be able to go into a room and get it put in order in a heartbeat. I can't organize or clean like that. She is so much nicer than me. I feel like I can never measure up. But, I want to. I wish I could.

Post Surgery Owies

Surgery is not supposed to be fun, I don't think.

Mama's the world over spend years cautioning their kids to not cut themselves, and to sign informed consents for someone to knock you out and cut you open is counter-intuitive.

But again, I did. And again it hurts. I had my wrist put back together yesterday. And am now doing everything one-handed. Typing only with my right hand is slower and bothersome.... but there are a lot more obnoxious things. For example, I can't open my pain pill bottle. Putting a diaper on an uncooperative baby with one hand is like wrestling an angry octopus...I could go on and on. It is not pleasant, hopefully, this will be short lived.

Giveaway Winner!

In other news, I suck. I totally forgot about posting the winner my apologies,

Congratulations to Karen!

I will be emailing her shortly to get her information.

Annoying day to day life

Expedition v. Excursion

ex·pe·di·tion/ˌekspəˈdiSHən/Noun
1. A journey or voyage undertaken by a group of people with a particular purpose, esp. that of exploration, research, or war.

ex·cur·sion/ikˈskərZHən/Noun
1. A short journey or trip, esp. one engaged in as a leisure activity.

This gets me, it really really gets me. Expedition means a bigger trip, excursion means like a day trip- a smaller trip. So then logically, an Excursion should be the smaller car. Expedition means a bigger undertaking, and should therefore be the larger vehicle. But no. They are reversed and it makes me freaking insane. Really, I see one of these cars on the road and I want to yell at Ford.

Early Reading= late blooming??

First and foremost: The fundamental task of early childhood isn't learning to read, or to "get ahead" for school, or to impress the neighbors, or to give the folks something to brag about. Encouraging children to surge ahead beyond their real developmental needs leaves them with some really sludgy clean-up to grapple with later on.

- Marsha Lucus, Phd.

This is key. As a child I was intellectually advanced. I got concepts quickly and became bored to tears.

While I can balance a chemical equation or find the area under a curve with ease I am socially inept.

I have no idea how to relate to people most of the time. When in a group, I like watching people interact and often am struck with an, "ah ha!" moment. As in "ah ha! that is how they do it!"

My book smarts are great, but they only get me so far. I would rather have a kid who is empathetic than able to read Dostoyevsky at age 12.

It is easy to get caught up the the mompetition of life. Moms bragging that their kids are in 5 activities and school or has mastered their third language without accent by age 8 is a hard act to follow. Even harder is realizing an internalizing that your child is a person, not a trophy, that he or she has wants and needs that are every bit as important as an adults.

To be sure, I am not saying that kids activities are bad- just that kids should be kids first and foremost.

So my three year old can't read, but if she sees someone hurt, she'll offer a hug or ice- and I think that is a pretty great skill to have.

A chicken with a neck

As a mother of 4 I do a lot of laundry. I cook a lot of food. I clean more than is reasonable. It is pretty much all the same.

Today, I pulled a chicken out and was getting it ready to stick in the oven. The bag of innards was being stubborn so I turned the chicken around to see if I could push it through any easier than pulling. When I turned it over I saw what I thought was a really floppy wing in the wrong place- like a mutant chicken.

It was the neck. The chicken still its neck.. Its head was gone but the neck and bones and skin were still there. Chickens have a longer neck than I would have expected.

You know that roaring in your ears and the watery mouth that you get before you vomit? Yeah, I got that. I had to sit. The next dilemma: what to do with my headless (but not neckless chicken)?

Further butchering seemed to be unnecessary. So I plopped the bird neck tucked under it, into the pan, seasoned it, and roasted it.

That was not before I called about 10 people to tell them about the chicken with a neck. This was the most exciting thing to happen in my life in a few weeks. Yep- a chicken. With a neck. I took a picture. I emailed it to my mom (wow, my life is really dull- huh) I emailed my mother a photo of a chicken with its neck. Whats next an apple with leaves?

As I stood at the stove making gravy I realized something- that my suburban housewife bliss- is really really fucking boring and clearly, I need to get out more.


Vegetarians Beware- photo below (a crappy camera phone photo)