Jen Mann's Blog, page 44
November 10, 2012
Happy Birthday to Gomer and Adolpha
Happy Birthday Gomer AND Adolpha!
On this day in 2004 we welcomed Gomer into our family. He arrived a month early and freaked me out when he ended up in the NICU. After a rocky start he ended up being the easiest, happiest baby.
On November 9, 2006 we put Gomer to bed and he had just learned how to say "Happy Birthday!" He was practicing for the next day and I felt the first pangs of labor. I knew that the next day wouldn't just be his birthday.
Sure enough on this day in 2006 Adolpha arrived to complete our family. Yup. Two babies, same day, just two years apart. Nope. We didn't schedule them, they both came naturally on the same day. I'd like to think they're pretty rare and special.
All day long random hospital staff kept stopping in my room while I labored. "Are you the lady giving birth two years later to the day?" they kept asking me.
In between my breathing (hee hee hee hee) I would say, "Yes! Could you please close the door on your way out? My business is hanging out here."
Just when I was starting to feel like a rock star my brother sent me an email to bring me back down to earth. He attached an article about a woman who had given birth earlier that week to her third child on the same day. It said something to the effect of: I know you think you're something special and you think you're hot shit, but I found this article on Yahoo's front page this morning and you're nothing compared to this lady. It looks like you'll need to go for 4 kids if you want to top her.
We all know I'm not an over achiever, so of course I stopped after two.
November 8, 2012
Who is The HUBS??
I guess I learn something everyday. Here are some odd things about The HUBS. Guest post today.
If you are reading this list, that means you have come here to learn
some unknown and obscure facts about me. Some of these facts are so
obscure even my wife does not know.
I will tag some
other bloggers and hope they will post some sort of list that will
reveal some interesting, random, or obscure facts about themselves.
This is a great way to know someone a little bit better.
1.
I was born in Taiwan, but I am Chinese - not Taiwanese. I am fluent in
Mandarin Chinese. I speak English with NO accent...maybe a slight New
Yawk City accent. Anyone that meets me in person can't believe I can
speak fluent Chinese. I normally bust out the Chinese at the Chinese
restaurants to order those special menu items that white people never
see and would never eat. Yes, it really does exist. You can't just ask
for the Jellyfish and Pig Intestines in English.
2. I
love television and films. I went to USC and NYU Film school, so I
have watched and learned all about Film and TV production. I learned to
speak English watching all those 70's-80's shows. I was a latch key
kid. Today, most people don't know what that is, but it basically means
you went to school by yourself, you came home by yourself and watched
TV all day long until your parents came home from work. I thought this
was great, with Carol and Mike Brady, Maggie and Jason Seaver, Claire
and Cliff Huxtable, and Elyse and Steven Keaton and all the other great
parents on TV, why did I need any parents in real life?? I thought
those shows were great and had a sense of morality. Not sure any of the
Real Housewives would be a great example of parents today. I do watch
them as well. Yes, I am guilty and feel dirty after.
3.
80's New Wave music is my wheel house. If a song comes on the radio
that was in this era, I can name that tune in 4-6 notes. NO JOKE. I
can't name all the bands, but I will try just off the top of my head.
Depeche Mode, OMD, A Flock of Seagulls, Ah-Ha, The Cure, The Smiths,
Erasure, Simple Minds, The Psychedelic Furs, UB40, U2 and so many more.
I was NOT a Van Halen, Twisted Sister kind of kid.
4.
I am a cheap bastard. I know, everyone that knows me and that has
read my blog or my wife's blog knows this is no secret. I want to share
some weird ways I like to save money. Not all of them will work or is
for everyone, so take from it what you will.
When I
pump my gas, I always stop when it clicks automatically - never rounding
off to the next dollar - because you are not getting any more gas by
pumping anymore...BUT, I leave the lever in the ON position while I take
the hose and raise it up to get any remaining gas in the hose. I am
sure I have saved tens if not hundreds of cents doing this.
5.
I like to get my haircuts at Great Clips. Why? Because they are cheap
and do a fairly good job. I always use a coupon. If one does not
come, I just wait. Sometimes my hair is so over grown my wife calls me a
Monchici. Yes, I do resemble that Monchici doll.
6. I
hate to read and write. I am a visual person. I don't really read
books or write very much. Ever since Jen with her blog and book has
taken off, I have been doing more reading and writing. Most of my
reading is done on the computer. I do lots of research...on anything
and everything. I read lots of websites, blogs, magazines and
journals. Books...not so much.
Shameless plug: The last book I read was "Spending the Holidays with People I Want to Punch in the Throat." I had to read it because my wife wrote it and it is funny as hell and it talks about the 80's Christmas. My favorite.
7.
This is the last fact and super cost saving tip I am leaving. I pee in
the shower. Don't be grossed out. It is natural. I do it to save on
water. If you can't get with this idea, you are killing our planet one
unnecessary flush at a time. I will admit to even holding my pee until I
can get into the shower to pee. That is how committed I am to saving
our planet. I am no tree huger, but if I can save 2-4 gallons of water
ever day by peeing in the shower, I will do my part.
That
is all. I can't think of any more things to say. I hope you know me a
little more and understand me a little more. Here are the other
bloggers I hope will do this as well. Since I am new to this, these are
all people that I know through my wife. I hope you will check out some
of these other people as well. They are in NO particular order.
http://mommas-musings-by-momma.blogspot.com/2012/10/its-major-award.html
http://www.peopleiwanttopunchinthethroat.com/
http://underachievingdomesticgoddess.blogspot.com/
https://www.facebook.com/momswhodrinkandswear?fref=ts
http://www.youknowithappensatyourhousetoo.com/
http://letmestartbysayingblog.com/
http://www.robinschicks.com/
November 7, 2012
Week 7 of My Transformation - The Dirty 30
Yup. "Good." Can you imagine me thinking that 7 weeks ago?? Not "Ugh" like I usually do or "Sigh. OK. Let's get it over with." I was pretty happy with myself for being so positive.
I arrived at Starting Line Fitness in a good mood and ready to work. All I can say is it's a good thing I was in a good mood, because Kris had an (evil) twinkle in her eye when she said, "Today we're going to do the Dirty 30."
The Dirty 30 is ten exercises for 30 reps each. Sounds OK, right? Except I've never done so many reps of so many different exercises. And just to make it more interesting Kris increased my weight in a lot of them.
About half way through my workout I gasped to Kris, "Son of bitch! I can't imagine how much this would suck right now if I was in a terrible mood today. You are kicking my ass!"
She just smiled sweetly and said, "That's ten. Just twenty more."
I managed to finish it all (after much cursing and stopping to catch my breath) except the crunches. The crunches are always at the end and yesterday I was praying for crunches just so I could have the chance to lay down. We finally got to crunches and I practically wept with joy when she brought out the mat for me to crawl onto.
I laid on my back and tried the first one only to squeal in pain. You see, I am a complete idiot and my body is an absolute wreck. Last week I diagnosed myself with a tumor when it was really a tight IT band (which is doing much better now after the roller of death, thanks for asking) and this week I managed to pull a muscle in my stomach - IN MY SLEEP!
No joke. I was sound asleep two nights ago and I rolled over and felt something pull in my stomach. It actually woke me up. Are you kidding me? A pulled muscle from sleeping?!! Only I could do this.
"I can't do it, Kris," I whined. "I pulled a muscle earlier this week."
"Oh yeah?" She asked. "What have you been doing?" I know she had visions of me doing 100 crunches every night or running several miles. "Is it your leg again?"
"No. It's in my abs."
"How did you do it?"
"I turned over too quickly in my sleep," I said. "Hey! It really hurts!" I complained over her guffaws.
Lucky for me she took pity on me and just made me hold a plank instead of doing my crunches and crying.
I am down for a total of over 7.5 inches and I'm definitely getting stronger so I would say Kris is doing it right.
November 6, 2012
The First Time Gomer Pitched a Fit
This Saturday will be Gomer's 8th birthday and Adolpha's 6th birthday.
Although they share a birthday and are best friends, they have such different personalities. Adolpha was high maintenance in the womb and Gomer has always been the most easy going and loving kid you could meet. In fact, Gomer never threw a fit until he was two years old.
We'd had a pretty good run until the day I took him to Old Navy.
It was January and Adolpha desperately needed tights. Everything she had to wear was a dress and she needed something to keep her little bare legs warm. Old Navy had a good selection for a decent price so I decided to take a minute to myself and run out and get her some tights.
As I was leaving the Hubs said, "Really? You're going to leave me with both of them?? Alone??"
"You can do it," I replied. "I'll be an hour."
"I can't do it. Adolpha is too fussy to be put down and Gomer will miss you too much. You have to take one of them," he said.
I sighed heavily and decided I'd take Gomer. At least he could walk so I wouldn't need a stroller and the Hubs was right, Adolpha was too fussy - he could keep her for a while!
Gomer wasn't too happy to go out in the cold and he really wasn't thrilled about shopping, but he put on a brave face like he always did.
In those days Gomer was obsessed with balls. He was crazy for them. I remembered that Old Navy had a big gumball machine-looking thing that would give you a giant superball for a quarter. I told Gomer, "We need to be quick and if you're a good boy I'll get you a ball at the store. OK?"
"OK!" he replied.
We got the store and I found the tights that I wanted. I started to get on line when Gomer reminded me, "Ball!"
"Oh, right! OK, they're over here, Gomer." I walked over to the gumball machine thingy and put in a quarter. Just as I did this, Gomer walked over to a bin of soccer balls and selected an $8.00 ball.
"Ball!" he said holding up his pick.
"Oh, no, Gomer. Mommy got your ball already. See?" I showed him the super ball.
These aren't good enough for my kid.
He took one look at my pathetic offering and started to scream.
Not like a wahhhhh scream, but like an ear-piercing-I'm-being-abducted-someone-call-the-cops-I-don't-know-this-crazy-lady scream.
The entire store turned and stared at me. I was horrified. My precious snowflake had never behaved like this before. I had no idea what to do.
"Gomer," I hissed. "stop that right now."
"Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!" he wailed at the top of his lungs and then he threw himself on the floor.
"Gomer! Get off the floor!" What the hell had just happened to my little boy? It was is if he was possessed by the devil himself.
"That's it. No. Ball," I whispered to him. I shoved the super ball in my pocket and tried to get Gomer off the floor.
He went limp like a 45 pound wet noodle. I struggled to hang on to my tights and my child.
By now people had stopped shopping and were just staring at us. They were watching me try and parent my child and they were watching my child melt down like an ice cream cone on a hot July day.
I weighed my options: On one hand Adolpha needed tights and I didn't know when I'd get the chance to go shopping again without having to haul two kids, a stroller, an infant car seat, an enormous diaper bag (Gomer still wasn't potty trained at this point, so I needed newborn diapers and gargantuan diapers), a breast pump (no matter how hard I tried to plan to go out in between my pumping schedule, it seemed like I always had to pump at least once in a public restroom), a back up battery for the breast pump, at least two lovies for each kid, snacks for Gomer and an extra bottle for Adolpha in an insulated cooler (in case my breast pump AND back up battery failed AND the winter temperatures dropped so low that my baby's bottle MIGHT get a tad warm and get her sick - God, I don't miss those days of worrying about EVERYTHING when my kids were babies!!). On the other hand Gomer was a mess. He'd misunderstood me because I wasn't clear about which ball I was offering. I could buy that $8.00 ball and he'd shut up. But then he'd win. He'd know that in the future anytime he wanted something he could pitch a fit and I'd cave.
I had to decide right then and there what kind of parent I was going to be. I looked at his bright red, screaming face and made my decision.
Nope. Adolpha was getting her tights and Gomer wasn't getting ANY ball no matter how hard he screamed.
I dragged his limp ass up to the line and waited patiently. I ignored him while he wailed and thrashed on the floor beside me.
A few people actually moved and let me go ahead of them. "Thank you," I said through gritted teeth as I shoved him forward with my foot.
Now I was between an older lady (grandma age) and a teenage girl. Both of them were looking at me like I was Mother of the Year. The grandma harrumphed and muttered something like, "I would take him home." The teenage girl nodded in agreement.
"Look," I told grandma, "I have a two month old baby at home that needs tights, dammit. This kid is pitching a fit because he can't have a ball. You are too old to remember when your kids acted up in a store and you -" I turned on the teenager, "should pay close attention, because I'm giving you a glimpse of your future if you don't practice safe sex. Now everyone quit staring at me."
I paid for the tights and carried my screaming, thrashing toddler from the store while he pulled down the front of my shirt and exposed my boobs to everyone who cared to see my goods. I wrestled him into his carseat. This was my first experience with the arching toddler who refuses to be buckled into his seat. I ended up sticking my knee in his gut to get him in his seat. I threw myself into my seat exhausted and called the Hubs.
"You will never believe what YOUR son just did."
"What happened? Why is he crying?" the Hubs asked.
"Clear out his room. Take everything of any value that he cares about. I want it all gone by the time I get home. Everything he loves is off limits."
The Hubs could tell I meant business. He hung up and got to work.
We got home and I filled in the Hubs. We sent Gomer to his room to think about his actions for a bit while I calmed myself down.
Finally, I went upstairs to talk to him about his behavior. After our talk I asked him, "Do you have anything you'd like to say to me?"
He had calmed down. He sat there and stared into my eyes and thought long and hard. Finally he said, "Sorry usually works."
"HUBS!" I yelled. "Come and get your son before I hurt him!"
November 3, 2012
Weekly Wrap Up 11.3.12
This week has been a lot to handle with Sandy. I'm in sunny, dry, warmish Kansas, but I have many friends on the east coast who are still suffering almost a week later. Hang in there!
Top Read Posts This Week:
When I Realized I Wasn't Tough Enough for NYC - Part 1 - This was the first part of my two part story about my worst day ever. There was a lot of talk of me punching the guy in his nuts. I didn't want to touch his dirty penis and the guy was crazy enough to stick his bare penis in my face on a public train - I was not about to get into a fight with that guy. He'd probably kill me.
Halloween is Over - I complained a bit about some tweens we came into contact with on Halloween and I got a little grief about picking on the big kids. I just want to be clear - I don't mind the tweens coming to my door as long as they're polite (don't threaten to roll my kids for the remaining candy in the bowl) and they're in a costume (punky ass kid costume doesn't count).
When I Realized I Wasn't Tough Enough for NYC - Part 2 - My day was so crappy I couldn't fit it all into one post.
Over Achieving Elf on the Shelf Mommies - He's moving up the list.
Mayor Bloomberg and the New York City Marathon - When I wrote this Bloomberg wanted to go ahead with the marathon this week. By the end of the day he chose to cancel it. Good move, Mayor.
Book Update:
This week I decided that I've done a shitty job promoting my book. Someone mentioned the book on the Facebook page and at least three people chimed in that they didn't even know I had a book. Ack!! I am terrible at self-promotion and getting the word out. If anyone feels like tooting my horn, please feel free to toot, because I suck at it.
Nook is a bastard and still hasn't published the book yet. A few Nook readers told me they went ahead and downloaded the Kindle app for their smart phones and tablets and went that route since Nook is so slow.
I mailed out several signed copies this week that will be someone's Christmas present . . . shhhh. I won't tell who is getting PIWTPITT for XMAS. If you'd like to order signed copies for Christmas presents be sure to order early so that I can ensure they will reach you in plenty of time.
My Favorite Comments of the Week (and My Replies if Necessary):
New York is an amazing place but I'm only half kidding when I say that every time I go there I spend half my time looking at the locals and mentally saying 'why do you do it?' I want to grab the women and put them in sweat pants and ponytails and say 'Have you been to my town? It's really nice! It's easier, I promise!' on When I Realized I Wasn't Tough Enough for NYC - Pt. 1
I don't think I ever left my apartment in sweat pants when I lived there and now I barely put on real pants.
so now that you're all safe and not living a loop of that godawful day, i can say honestly that i laughed my ass off when you told the guy that you wanted to go home to Kansas because how could anyone NOT think you were doing some weird Wizard of Oz performance piece... on When I Realized I Wasn't Tough Enough for NYC - Pt. 2
We have actually had parents DRIVING these older kids around the neighborhood at the close of trick or treating. No costumes. They'd jump out of the car as it came to a screeching halt at the corner of our block. Like a greedy mob, tell us we should give them the remainder of our bowls because trick or treating was over now anyway. on Halloween is Over
Oh hell no. I would not give candy to anyone who jumped out of a car.
I too must be the minority here...I don't mind the older kids, (as long as they don't push the littles and DON'T take all the candy). They are going house to house, putting a little effort in it, working for their $15 worth of candy; candy that they easily could have just gone out and bought. What makes me laugh is the parent pushing the 3 to 9 month old baby, going trick or treating for them...REALLY? that candy is for the baby. WTF? Are you saving it for the next couple years for them? on Halloween is Over
When my kids were babies they LOVED Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and luckily the neighbors were very generous with them. ;)
I have to admit, I let my 14-yr-old daughter go trick-or-treating last night. She went with a group of her friends, but before going another mother and I gave them a debriefing. We told them, "Look, you guys are really too old to be doing this, the only way to make it work is to be very friendly and polite. Make sure to make eye contact, say "Trick-or-Treat" and smile while saying "Thank you". If she wants to go next year, I'll make her take her little brother. He got way more candy than her anyway, even though he went to less houses. I have to admit, I always give the teens less and the cute little kids more! on Halloween is Over
I'm from Joplin, MO, and I cannot fathom how an event of pretty much any kind could be held only six days after a natural disaster of this caliber. Six days after the Joplin tornado, search teams were still looking for bodies in the piles of bricks and splinters of wood that used to be the center of our town. Find another time to host a marathon. Rebuilding lives is more important than a race. on Mayor Bloomberg and the New York City Marathon
I am a runner so I understand all that goes into preparing to run a marathon but holding this event is a terrible idea - the death toll is still rising, for goodness sake. Postponement may not be possible b/c of the winter weather on the horizon, so cancelling seems like a rational decision at this point. I feel badly for the runners, but I feel worse for the people of NYC. Sorry marathoners, I'm on their side! on Mayor Bloomberg and the New York City Marathon
I agree as well, but I won't be donating to the Red Cross ever. on Mayor Bloomberg and the New York City Marathon
I don't care if you donate to Red Cross or not, it's just the easiest one. Just please donate.
I thought I'd read all your posts, but oh man. I just happened to see this one and I'm dying. You can brighten anyone's day, I'm sure of it! on Me - At Zen Massage
This is actually one of my favorites. I'm glad you found it!
I just finished reading your book Spending the Holidays with People I Want to Punch in the Throat and I loved it! It's hilarious and I've been telling all my friends about it! Can't wait to read your next book Dagrún from Iceland:) on When I Realized I Wasn't Tough Enough for NYC - Pt. 1
Thanks so much! Would you please leave me a review on Amazon? It's a HUGE help for me. Thanks!
Not ALL kids get to have birthday parties and holiday parties. so GUESS WHAT?!!! Im having a potty party for my kid. So what are you gonna do? Geez grow up and let people have fun. Instead of judging people how bout the next time you go to church if you even go you actually listen to the whole not judging someone maybe then your children wont turn out like you on Potty Parties
When I read a comment like this it reminds me to pray every day that my kids turn out exactly like me.
November 2, 2012
Mayor Bloomberg and the New York City Marathon
I feel my spirits lifting already. Not.
I can't even believe that this is in the works. Sure, it has the potential to be a huge revenue boost for the city, but it also has the potential to be the biggest clusterfuck ever witnessed.
Have you seen the city? I've seen enough pictures of places like Staten Island, Queens and lower Manhattan to know that the city isn't in any shape to host a marathon this weekend. I can (sort of) understand the people who are in favor of the race happening who say things like, "It will empower the city" or "It will raise awareness." Huh. Like I said, I sort of understand them. It all sounds good, but it really doesn't mean shit. Because you know what else empowers the city? Electricity being restored and garbage getting picked up. Do you know what also raises awareness? Telethons and pictures of the devastation. It looks like a war zone in some of those places. I saw pictures this morning of a woman cleaning out her mother's home where the water reached the roof of her home. There is nothing left to salvage. That picture inspired me to give money to HELP the victims of SANDY more than watching a bunch of runners trot through New York City ever will. I read a story about two little boys whose bodies were just recovered after they were swept from their mother's arms during the storm. I don't know about you, Mayor Bloomberg, but it just feels dirty and wrong to host a marathon less than a week after that mother's tragedy.
With so many people still suffering without power, heat, food and clean water it just seems like a dick move to announce that the marathon will go through this weekend, because it will "lift spirits." I tell you what, if I was one of the people stuck in my cold and dark apartment the last thing that would lift my spirits would be a bunch of runners. Unless those runners are bringing me a hot pizza and a new battery for my cell phone, they'd better watch it, because I might throw my rotten week old food at them as they passed by.
The marathon is a huge undertaking on a good day. I've seen it. (You didn't think for a second that I've actually RUN the marathon? Ha.) No, I didn't run. I just watched it run by while I waited for the street to open back up again so I could hit the mall. I've seen how much work it takes and I've seen how it can tie up traffic and police resources. It is a total pain in the ass on a day when everything is working right. The city is already a mess, why add more mess to it?
Because it's about money. If Bloomberg cancels the race the city is out millions of dollars in revenue. OK, but how are all of these out of town runners (with money to spend) going to get to New York? LaGuardia is barely opened at this point and all of the other local airports and doing what they can to stay on schedule. Where will they stay? Hotels are full of locals who are either homeless now or trying to find a warm bed for the night. How will they get around? Subway service has resumed partially, but there are still lots of places you can't get to very easily. Lines for the bus are outrageous and gas is scarce for cars and taxis and generators. The marathon officials have said that they will get runners around on private buses, but wouldn't that money be better spent on rescue and clean up efforts?
And what will this undertaking cost the city? Not just in dollars, but in time wasted that could be spent helping people. Just think how much time has already been spent agonizing and strategizing how to keep the marathon going. Imagine if that brain trust got together and started working on ways to clear streets of debris or something like that?
It's so easy for these officials and organizers sitting in their warm, well-lit homes each night stressing about how they can keep the marathon going. I doubt any of them are in a place without power or food right now. I doubt any of them are sitting in shelters or digging through the rubble that was once their home or burying their loved ones lost in the storm. If they were, I'd guarantee the marathon would be the last thing on their minds.
I read that another concern is that the runners would have to refund their pledges that they've raised if they don't run so that's millions of dollars to charities too.
As someone who has a couple of avid runners in the family, I have donated to their causes when they run. If they came to me now and said, "I'm sorry, the New York City Marathon is being cancelled and I can't run. I'll have to refund your pledge to XYZ Charity" what do you think I would say? Do you think I would say, "Yes, that makes sense. I want that money back, you lazy SOB. I was only giving that money because you were running. Now that charity doesn't get anything from me. Sorry, suckers!"
Of course not. I think MOST people would say, "I'm sorry you can't run. You must be disappointed. I know you've trained hard and this was a dream of yours, but hopefully you can run next year. In the meantime, please make sure my money gets to the XYZ Charity."
Most people are not assholes. Most people understand that a major storm of epic proportions has just raged through New York City and it makes absolute and total sense to cancel the race, but still distribute the donations that they raised. If a donor didn't think that way, I wouldn't worry, karma will definitely catch up with him!
I'm not saying the race needs to be cancelled this weekend - just postpone it, Mayor Bloomberg. Your city is not ready. Help your fellow New Yorkers first and then worry about the bottom line.
This is a tough one and people are divided on the topic. What do you think?
UPDATE:
The marathon is now canceled. Good job doing the right thing.
Image: ING NYC Marathon
November 1, 2012
Halloween is Over
Trick or treating tires them out. We hit one side of the main drag of the neighborhood and Adolpha was ready to call it quits. At each house she would weigh the pros and cons of carrying her heavy bucket full of candy up to another door. "What do you think they're giving out?" she'd ask me before she'd sigh heavily and plod up to the door, curiosity getting the better of her.
After about twenty houses, both kids were ready to call it quits. They wanted to go home and hand out candy instead. Sounded good to the Hubs and me. Especially to the Hubs. You see, October 31 starts his Grinchy holiday season. If you think I'm not crazy about the holiday madness, you should spend some time with the Hubs. Tonight he told me his Halloween family tradition: "We would turn off all the lights and make the house as dark as possible, but kids would still ring the bell. As soon as they'd ring the doorbell, we'd mute the television and hold our breaths until they finally went away."
It's like living with someone raised by wolves.
Although, after listening to many of the middle schoolers out trolling for candy tonight, I'm beginning to think his idea isn't so bad. Here are just a few of the gems I heard tonight from the pack of middle schoolers that were in front of us at most houses (can't wait until it's Gomer and Adolpha out there wilding and insulting the neighbors):
"Where's the chocolate?"
"Don't you have better stuff than this?"
"Is that all we can have?"
"What's your costume? Are you Santa Claus? No? Oh, well something about you reminds me of him."
"Hey you guys my phone is rubbing my leg raw. I've got to find a better spot for it. I wish this costume had pockets." (FYI - if you're old enough to carry a cell phone then you're too old to trick or treat at my house.)
"Oh my God, you guys, asking strangers for candy is so awkward."
My favorite tweens of the night were the ones who were the last visitors at my house. We'd come back and the kids were sitting on the porch with our enormous bowl of candy handing out treats. I was just coming out to tell them it was time to come in when I overheard this conversation:
Kid 1: I could just take that whole bowl of candy from you, you know.
Gomer: No you can't. We need it.
Kid 2: You should just give it to us. No one else is coming. We're the last group.
Adolpha: You can't have it. There might be more kids.
Gomer: It' doesn't matter. Our mom said only two pieces for each kid.
Kid 3: C'mon, either take it or let's go.
That's when I opened the door and stepped out on the porch and I saw three kids dressed like morphs. Can someone please tell me what the hell a morph is and why is it such a popular costume this year???
Me: What's going on?
Gomer: Those kids were going to take our candy.
Me: Oh is that right?
Kid 1: I was just kidding him.
Me: It didn't sound like you were kidding.
Kid 2: I love your daughter's costume. Is she a cow?
Me: No. She's a puppy and people have been calling her a cow all night. Look at her face paint and look at her ears. She is obviously a puppy. She hates it when people call her a cow.
Kid 2: Oh. I can't see very well. She kind of looks like a cow.
Me: Well, she's not and she's ready to start biting people to prove she's a puppy.
Adolpha: Grrrr.
Me: Boys, I think you'd better run along before I let Adolpha get you.
Do we look like cows? We are obviously spotted puppies, silly morphs.
Ha. Those freaky morphs thought they'd just help us out by taking the last of our candy since we weren't going to have anymore customers. Don't those punks know that any left over candy always goes to the moms?
Photo: Kids Dressing Up Box
October 31, 2012
When I Realized I Wasn't Tough Enough for NYC - Pt. 2
All I wanted was a grilled cheese sandwich.
I came out of the subway station and found that the downpour was still going on. I fought the rushing water to get back up the stairs and headed for the disgusting grocery store.
Inside it was packed. No one wanted to go out for dinner or wait to have it delivered that night. I grabbed the last loaf of bread and got on the long line.
By now I was tired and cold and still wet. I just wanted to go home. I should have just gone home, but damn it, I really wanted that grilled cheese sandwich so I held on. I stood online and shuffled forward like a zombie every few minutes. I was getting close to the register now and I didn't have much longer to wait. The end was near. I was so ready to get out of there when suddenly . . .
I was attacked.
"Son of a bitch!" the man behind me yelled as he knocked the loaf of bread from my hands.
"What?! Are you crazy?" I screamed as he stomped the living shit out of my loaf of Wonderbread. My grilled cheese sandwich!! "What are you doing? That's the last loaf, you asshole!"
He stopped and said to me, "Lady, you're lucky I did that. There was a mouse in there. I could see it through the plastic bag. You would not have been very happy to get home and find that thing in there."
A mouse. In my loaf of fucking bread. I stared at the demolished loaf of bread and the dead mouse.
I imagined getting back to my apartment, taking my shower, putting on my cozy jammies and getting my new loaf of bread out, opening the twisty tie, reaching in and grabbing a . . . mouse!!!!!
I almost threw up just thinking about it. Instead, I just burst into tears.
"Hey lady, relax. It's just a mouse. It's no big deal. You're welcome."
I kept crying. "Jeez. Go get another loaf. I'll save your place," the guy offered.
"I don't want another loaf of bread from this shit hole. Besides, that was the last one. I just want to go to home," I sobbed.
"OK, then go home," he said.
"I want to go home to Kansas," I said. He looked at me like I was insane.
I wanted to say, "Listen, I fell down the stairs in a monsoon and got all wet and gross, a crazy homeless man exposed his penis to me on the subway and now there's a mouse in my loaf of bread. The universe is sending me a message. I've done my time. I've given it a whirl. I'm cooked. It's time to call it a day."
I left the store and walked slowly through the rain back to my apartment (even when I'm upset I don't run and besides, what would be the point - I was already soaked) crying the whole way. When I got back I called my mom and dad and said, "I want to come home."
There were ecstatic. They probably booked me a plane ticket that night. I don't really remember.
I got cleaned up and went to bed. I woke up the next morning and the sun was up and the sky was clear. The roads and sidewalks were clean - New York always looks better after a hard rain to wash away all the grime. The night before was a distant memory. I decided I wasn't cooked yet. I got dressed for work and called my mom again, "I'm staying," I told her.
God bless her, she tried to sound upbeat, "Oh. OK, sweetie. Well, just let us know if you need anything."
"A grilled cheese sandwich would be great," I replied.
I ended up staying in New York for another year or so and I never had another day like that one ever again.
This horrible day doesn't even remotely compare to the horrible days all of the victims from Sandy are enduring. Please continue to remember them and if you can donate to help them.
October 30, 2012
When I Realized I Wasn't Tough Enough for NYC - Pt. 1
Over the years I had put up with all the inconveniences of living in a such an old, expensive city. I paid a small fortune to live in a dusty pre-war apartment a block from a very active fire station. Because my apartment didn't have air conditioning, I worked up a sweat most mornings just taking a shower and blow drying my hair. It was during my New York years that I started experimenting with letting my naturally curly hair go curly, because there was no beating it. I put up with all of this so that I could have interesting (life sucking) jobs and so that I could be near the (future) Hubs. I had one of the worst days of my entire life when I lived there and it was just during a normal rain storm. My day was so shitty that I decided right then and there that I was not cut out for New York City and it was time to throw in the towel.
It was fall and it started raining around lunch time that day. I knew the commute that night would be a nightmare (even though the subway is underground rain always throws it for a loop) so I decided I'd stay late and let it thin out a bit. I worked for several hours that night and finally decided it was time to head home. The rain had not let up at all. It was falling in sheets and the gutters were a little overwhelmed by the sheer volume. The subway station was just across the street from my building so I ran for it. When I got to the stairs to the station, a couple inches of water was running down the stairs like a waterfall. People were slipping and sliding. I hadn't worn my tennis shoes that day but I was wearing flats. I started down the stairs slowly, because I am a klutz. About half way down I thought, Oh this isn't as bad as I thought it would be. I let go of the railing. BOOM! I fell right on my ass and bounced down several stairs. Yuck! I was sitting in cold, greasy water that was running off the streets. Fast food wrappers and empty coffee cups were floating past me. I heard my train approaching the platform, so I grabbed my bag and moved as quickly as I dared through the rapids.
I managed to get to the train before it left and I was pleased to find it mostly empty. At rush hour I would never get a seat, but that night I had a whole row to myself. I sat down and tried not think about my cold, wet underwear sticking to me or if there was a cigarette butt caught in my slip. I had a twenty minute train ride and I just wanted to calm down.
Food has always made me feel better, so immediately my mind went to "What are we having for dinner?" I don't know what it is, but there is something about a cold and rainy night that always makes me want grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. I think my mom must have made that for me a lot on rainy days when I was a kid, because I am hard-wired for that stuff when the rain starts falling.
I was so busy dreaming of a hot shower and a grilled cheese sandwich (not together, of course!) that I didn't notice the man who came through from the other train car. He stopped right in front of me and held onto the bar over my head. At first I didn't think anything of it. If you ride the subway in New York City you have no personal space. Everyone is in your face. It didn't seem unusual until I noticed that the car was still pretty empty and he could have gone anywhere. Why was he standing in front of me?? I looked up and he was grinning at me and doing pelvic thrusts towards my face. I looked at his nether regions and saw the tiniest, pinkest, wrinkliest penis I've ever seen sticking out of his fly.
Yup. The guy was sticking his penis in my face. I've just fallen down the disgusting stairs of a subway station and sat in a slush of trash, rat droppings and probably Ebola and now this guy is sticking his penis in my face?? What am I supposed to do with that? I did what you'd expect. I went nuts. "Are you fucking kidding me with that shit?" I yelled at him. "Get the fuck out of my face, man!" I shoved past him and moved to another seat while everyone else on the train gave us both some space. In their defense it was hard to tell which of us was the crazy one. He got off at the next stop to go wave his tiny penis in someone else's face and left me alone.
Now I really wanted my grilled cheese sandwich! As we got closer to my stop I realized that I did not have the necessary ingredients to make a grilled cheese sandwich at my apartment. I didn't have the most important ingredient: BREAD.
I was going to have to venture to the "disgusting grocery store." The disgusting grocery store was a block from my apartment, but I never shopped there. It was so dirty that I was afraid to buy produce there. I once got expired milk from there. The meat always had a green tinge to it. This store was for emergencies only. Well, this was an emergency, I thought. There was no way I was going to walk further in this deluge just to get a loaf of bread. How bad could the bread be? I wondered. They can't screw that up, right . . . ?
Come back tomorrow and find out how the disgusting grocery store can most certainly screw up a loaf of bread.
October 27, 2012
Weekly Wrap Up 10.27.12
Friends Are Hard to Find - Part 2 - My friend Sandy tried to arrange a playdate for her daughter Olive with a classmate, Drusilla. This one got some fiery comments. Let me explain a few things: this happened face to face, so there was no way for Sandy to "hang up" the phone on her. Sandy didn't walk away from her, because she was trying to find Olive a friend and this woman was being uncooperative. Sandy is THE nicest person I know (she actually barely reads this blog, because she thinks I'm a "little mean" on here - no offense, Jen) and she was trying to HELP Drusilla's mom come up with a solution. It wasn't until later when she replayed the conversation in her head she realized the woman was being such a twat.
There were a few of you who stuck up for Drusilla's mom or sympathized with her or wondered if there was more than met the eye with this woman. You are much nicer people than I could ever be. The way I see it is, if this woman has a condition of some kind then she needs to just do what the rest of us do: LIE. Just say, "I'm sorry, Drusilla is very busy and she doesn't have any free time. Ever. Thank you for asking though. It was nice to meet you. I'm sure I'll see you around." Done and done. The way she handled it was fucked up.
How NOT to Make a New Friend - Sandy's experience with Drusilla's mom got me thinking. I have no idea how to make new friends so I can't offer you any advice there. What I can tell you is how NOT to make friends.
Someone suggested "You seem normal" could be code for "I read PIWTPITT and have a sense of humor. Do you?" I like that idea. Try it and let me know how that works.
It Might Be a Tumor - It's not a toomah - or at least I don't think it is.
Over Achieving Elf on the Shelf Mommies - That little bastard is getting ready for his close up this season. He's ready for a repeat of 2011. He's such a media whore. All I can say is, "Wait for me, Choppy!"
Book Update:
I'm beginning to get a complex from how long Nook is taking to get my book up and running. Yup, still no Nook edition this week. Sigh. They hate me.
The book is selling briskly this week. I mailed out a bunch of signed books for holiday presents. I've still got strength left in my hand, so if you want a few for your friends too, order early before fatigue sets in.
I've also been invited to be a guest at a book club that has chosen my book for their November selection. How cool is that? I'm going to go and deface their books with my scrawl and try to keep them on the topic of my book (you know how book clubs get - they never talk about the book). If you're in the Kansas City area and you'd like me to come to your book club, I am totally available - as long as it's not a cookie exchange too.
My Favorite Comments of the Week (and My Replies if Necessary):
Due to exuberant zumba-ing, I developed IT band issues. And I didn't even know I HAD an IT band until then (although I sure know it now!). I didn't get my diagnosis from Google, though. I got it the old-fashioned way - asked someone who has had hip problems and let HER diagnose me. Her dad is a veterinarian, which qualifies her as a diagnostician in my book. on It Might Be a Tumor
Do you have to roll on the - dum, dum, dum - Styrofoam Roller of Death?? That thing hurts like hell. on It Might Be a Tumor
I am doing the Styrofoam Roller of Death and it hurts more than childbirth. Seriously.
OMG, I ADORE you! Still LMAO! on Over Achieving Elf on the Shelf Mommies
"I forget to move him all the time and when I forget I have to spin even MORE lies than usual." Why not drop the whole Santa Clause lie in the first place? on Over Achieving Elf on the Shelf Mommies
OK, I'm an asshole who hates to make my Elf do magical things, but I am not a monster. Plus, the Santa Claus lie keeps everyone in check ALL YEAR ROUND. I will milk Santa for all the good behavior I can get.
All I could take away from this story is that your son's name is Gomer? Or is that your last name and that's what you were referring to him as because it's easier that saying "John" so the school knows exactly what "John" you're talking about. God, I hope that's your last name because Gomer is a terrible, terrible first name and after reading your baby name post I would expect better from you. on Me - In the Carpool Line
OK, obviously you are new so I'm going to cut you some slack. But come on. Who takes the time to leave a comment like this instead of just going to the WHO IS JEN? page or doing a little investigating? Of course my son's name isn't Gomer. It's also not my last name. How awful would that be? I was glad to read that you read at least another post besides this one. Keep reading, you'll find out that my daughter's name is Adolpha - that will really send you for a loop. Just buy my book, all will be explained there.
"you look a lot like my husband's first wife." I honestly didn't know what to do with that on How NOT to Make a New Friend
A little off subject! But when I was interviewing a sitter for my then 3-year old son, (who felt "naked time" should be an all-day event every day of his life) my idiot husband asked the sitter this question: "So...how do you feel about nudity?" Yup. She still ended up taking the job, and 5 years later she is no longer my sitter, but a very good friend. Maybe there are no wrong questions, if u are interested in someone who is real. on How NOT to Make a New Friend
WOW!!! All I can say, Dru's. mom should have just said, "Thanks but no thanks" and Sandy should have just let it go and moved on... lesson to be learned- just be nice, you might end up being put on blast by Jen!!!!! LOL...love you, Jen!!! Keep the blogs rolling....Sandy: good luck finding a new friend for Olive, keep trying!!!! on Friends Are Hard to Find - Part 2
I actually know a child named Steele. He is a twin and his brother's name is Stryker. (as in "strike her." True story. No one is going to mess with those kids! on How NOT to Make a New Friend
Make it stop. What are their parents going to do when they end up on the Mathete team instead of the football team?
I would have said no to the playdate request also, but I would have been more polite. I would never let my daughter go to someone's house that we did not know. And honestly, I can barely keep up with my friends as it us, I don't feel the need to add more people. I am a private person and kind of shy as well, I would have a hard time spending two hours with someone that I just met. on Friends Are Hard to Find - Part 2
You ruffled a few feathers, didn't you? What did you expect though? You basically complained that you've got more friends than you can handle to a group of women complaining that they don't have enough. THEN you said you were too "shy" to hang with a stranger for 2 hours. Really? Too shy to carry on a polite conversation with a stranger for 2 hours? That's actually the easiest 2 hours. You don't know ANYTHING about this woman so now the time to get her talking. You can talk about kids, school, husbands, jobs, The Real Housewives of Where Ever, books, movies, you name it! I sincerely hope you never have to move away from the friends you've already established and I hope that you and your current group never grow apart, because then you'll find out how hard it can be to walk into a room full of strangers and try to find a new friend - for you and/or your kid.
Dear Jen's Hubs, Could you install a like button in the comments section? Pretty please? on Friends Are Hard to Find - Part 2
Wouldn't that be the best?
