Monday, June 30, 2003 :::
 

::No Screwdriver Required::


Things my husband now knows, after visiting with my brother and his lovely wife.

Any purchase in the world can be justified in the name of 'savings'.

Every member of the Williams family is lazy, very lazy. My brother and I showed off our laziness by sitting on our asses while my husband cooked breakfast and my sister in law cleaned up all the dishes from breakfast.

When your wife says, "Hey, while Scott and Jenn are at church praying for our hedonistic souls, why don't we make breakfast for them?" What she really means is, 'Why don't you make breakfast while I take a shower and play with the dog.'

If my brother gets drunk enough he loves to horrify me with disgusting things. Including, but not limited to inappropriate gestures and innuendo and horrifying stories like the one about my dead Grandfather's penile implant at age 70.

Things we both learned:

Josie, the new cat, was rescued by my sister in law from a life of 'Mulletry' in Lebanon, Indiana. There is a special place in heaven for heroes like that.

My brother and his wife did such a fine job raising their dog...Logan and I are thinking about shipping the kids down to see what they can do with them.

Finally we both realized that it's still really nice to get away from the kids for a few days, but it's also really nice to see them when we come back.



::: posted by Melissa at 1:39 PM



Thursday, June 26, 2003 :::
 

::Hold Me::


I love that Maddie sobs and must skip the part in Dumbo where the kids are teasing Dumbo for his big ears. The part where Mrs Jumbo kicks ass and is roped down totally sends her into hysterics. Then there's the part where she is locked up in the mad elephant cage and Dumbo goes to visit and he misses his mom and she holds him in her trunk through the bars...truth be told I just want to hold Maddie and cry along with her.

Great, now I'm all sad.


::: posted by Melissa at 3:18 PM


 

::Remind Me::


You know what sucks? No one is perfect, so when you get married you suddenly realize...'Hey, hold on a minute! I'm not perfect....and NEITHER ARE YOU!?!?!?"

The thing is, since no one's perfect you have two imperfect souls just trying to make their own personal imperfections fit together in the most tolerable, pleasant and effective way possible.

I think that's the best you can hope for. Like Logan and I. I'm a huge bitch, and he's really nice. Together we're perfect!


::: posted by Melissa at 1:50 PM



Wednesday, June 25, 2003 :::
 

::Summers, Party of One::


Apparently $5.99 doesn't buy you a party with a pinata, mariachi, a band of wild Mexicans and crazy hats.

Apparently the "Party In A Bucket" is really only a party if your idea of a party is sitting by yourself sipping a, very tasty, margarita alone.

I think it's time for a Chrissy and Melissa style play date...now that's a party!


::: posted by Melissa at 10:29 AM



Tuesday, June 24, 2003 :::
 

::Partying In The Bucket::


I just bought something called a "Party In A Bucket", and I'm wondering who's invited. Do they give you friends in this bucket?

Apparently so far in the bucket there's only non drinkers, since you have to buy your own Tequila. I realize how this sounds but I just think it's going to be a pretty lame party if no one is going to drink. If there's no alcohol in the "Party Bucket" they should really just call it a 'Gathering In A Bucket'

I've actually convinced Madison there is a party inside this bucket. I think I've convinced her so well, I'm actually starting to hope a pinata, mariachi band, big sombreros along with a huge crew of wild Mexicans come flying out of this bucket when I finally break it open at the appointed hour.

According to this funny lady, the key to putting on a swimsuit in public involves several margarita's...so I'm going to try out this formula and see if it helps, because otherwise I'm going to have to wear those stupid "Water Pants" and I just don't see that as a good thing for my soul.

She also said that someday I'm going to look at pictures of myself and wonder why the hell I didn't wear a bathing suit when I could because of how HOT I'll look in comparison to what mother nature has in store for me, for everyone who continues to age.

I think that might be the saddest thing I've heard all week. That thought alone is making me consider skipping the 'Party In The Bucket' and just drinking the tequila alone in long pants.


::: posted by Melissa at 4:07 PM


 

::Loving Summer::


I realized yesterday there are three things I adore about summer with kids.

The smell of sunscreen on their skin, mixed with a little chlorine from the swimming pool....it's like heaven on earth and I could bury my nose in their necks for hours just taking it in.

I love giving them ice cream cones and letting it spill all over them and not caring because I'll just dump them in the pool before I take them inside.

And finally I love margaritas....it's not technically a kid related activity. But in my world it is. A nice cold margarita while I sit by the side of the pool reading a magazine while my kids play is one of the very best things about being a stay at home mom.

Now if only I could figure a way out of putting on my bathing suit in public.


::: posted by Melissa at 10:12 AM



Monday, June 23, 2003 :::
 

::Enjoying Today::


The Dullest Blog In The World


::: posted by Melissa at 1:35 PM


 

::Be Careful What You Wish For::


Remember I asked for a cropped pant swimsuit a while back? I mentioned I might pray for one actually?

Well I asked and you won't believe what I saw this weekend in the Eddie Bauer catalog. This!

Now that I see it though in reality, I really don't think it's a very good idea at all. In fact I think cropped pants at the beach are a crime against the laws of God and nature.


::: posted by Melissa at 9:54 AM



Sunday, June 22, 2003 :::
 

::Version Of Hell: Part II::



It's always 1975 and you have the hair to prove it.


::: posted by Melissa at 1:29 PM



Friday, June 20, 2003 :::
 
::Hey, Sarah B. Get Out Of My Head!::


Last October, I had to say good bye to three girlfriends. It was all terribly painful, but in the end for the best....for a variety of reasons, but I'll leave that for another bitching style post.

The four of us created a friendship from a larger circle of friends known as "Beer-Za" (for the beer and pizza Thursdays we had for about 3 years). That circle of friends was really interwoven, so that when the four girls weren't getting along anymore, the group dynamic was destroyed. It was a great dynamic that I am always looking for and after 8 months, I still miss that group of friends.

It's nice to hang around with people living a life more like mine. People living on one income for 4 people. People who have children and know how it can be. People who are married and know that sometimes you really hate your spouse. People who understand that what I'm doing here all day is a 'job', and that sometimes this job is really shitty, just like everyone's job is kind of shitty. They understand the mind numbing drone of day to day life with a toddler and a preschooler.

I've met people who are living a life really similar to mine. My moms club, some preschool moms I've met. I can include my kids in our friendship. I can be a wife and mother with these newer friends. I can bitch and moan about motherhood with them and they don't suggest I get a job at Starbuck's to make everything better.

But then I still feel like a huge part of me is missing. Maybe that group of people that made up Beer-Za wasn't living the life I was...but they kept me from being entirely absorbed in motherhood. I could still be young. I could still do horrible drunken karaoke. I could still go to parties where kids weren't invited and not one person talked about poop or about the tantrum of the week.

I suppose you could say I miss all the good things about that group of girlfriends, and before my rose colored glasses cloud my judgment...it was certainly not all roses. Gossip, immaturity and a judgmental attitude is a very ugly thing. I wish I could have kept a part of that circle.

I think it's that I wish the transition from being the best of friends to being just sometimes friends would have gone more smoothly so that we could still have the good parts of those relationships.



::: posted by Melissa at 1:53 PM


 
::This is so wrong::


I am actually afraid to share this little site because I think my sister will be charmed by the japanese imagery, the poorly translated grammer and she'll think it's a fabulous idea to torture your cat by dressing it up like some stupid garden goose.

You must look at this site

My favorite is this cat.


If you squint really hard and focus on that black spot under his nose he looks a little like Hitler. It's kind of amusing thinking that for all the bad karma Hitler created for himself he's been cursed to come back as a cat, but not just any cat. He's being dressed up, looking ridiculous even for a cat and to top off the insult...he has to pose for pictures. God truly does work in mysterious ways.


::: posted by Melissa at 9:23 AM



Thursday, June 19, 2003 :::
 
::They Call Her A Lady, But She's Really Just::


After behaving like a Lady for 2 days, Queen Macintosh is back in full force.

God Help Tech Support.



::: posted by Melissa at 4:04 PM



Wednesday, June 18, 2003 :::
 
::Househunting::


I've been looking at houses. I've been trying to convince the Guy that it's a good time for us to move. The problem is, I'm not really sure it's a good time for us to move so I'm having a hard time selling the idea.

But the other day I came across a cute little house...nothing spectacular about it except It was located just off "Beaver" street. I really want to live there.

Imagine the fun we could have.

"Yep, that's right we live off Beaver."
"Mmm hmmm, the Summer's family lives off Beaver."
"So you come up on Beaver, turn left and we live right off Beaver."

I would never again say my street name. Everything would be referenced in relation to Beaver. And really isn't that how it should always be?


::: posted by Melissa at 4:14 PM


 
::If You Want To Bore Yourself To Tears::


If you feel like being bored to the point of tears, try driving to Indianapolis from Detroit.

The drive looks like this. Get on I-94 go west. At Marshall, MI turn left and then drive straight for, oh let's see....forever. You think I'm kidding? I so wish I was kidding, but I'm not. Look at this

Actually no, you don't have to drive on that long and boring road with nothing to look at forever...just until you feel the need to tear your eyeballs from your skull if you see one more farm. Or until your husband starts listening to Bob Mould and that heinous "Hair Stew" song and all you want to do is ram the cd down his throat.

On the bright side of this long and terribly boring drive, we'll be without kids for at three days, maybe four. Dear God...it's been so very long since I've been away from both my children for over 6 hours.

Also on the bright side of this equation...we'll be sleeping in AND taking naps, we'll be giving the dog 'fun times', we'll be foraging for crap (what some people without souls call 'antiquing'), eating delicious meals, some even home cooked, picking on He Who Is Shrinking, drinking beers and playing cards with lots of inappropriate chatting. I won't have to look at a single sippy cup, I won't have to wipe one ass, I won't have to make sure everyone is buckled into a car seat. I won't have to listen to "Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom" for a few days and I can't tell you how incredibly happy this makes me.



::: posted by Melissa at 11:20 AM



Tuesday, June 17, 2003 :::
 
::If You Want To Lose Your Mind


If you are in the mood to drive yourself into the depths of insanity, buy all your appliances in a stainless steel finish. Proceed to try and keep it smear, streak and fingerprint free. If this doesn't make you crazy, have a child or two and try the above once again.

I guarantee you will be insane at the end of the week.


::: posted by Melissa at 5:19 PM


 
::Versions Of Hell::


There is a neverending stream of sippy cups in your sink. They're always full of spoiled milk and the valves...dear God the valves. You load up the dishwasher and look....more sippy cups and more spoiled milk and more valves. The valves.....







::: posted by Melissa at 5:15 PM



Monday, June 16, 2003 :::
 
::Too Much Fun?::


Is it possible I have found a parent friend who is too much fun?

I went to Chrissy's house this morning...oh and the kids came too. We set up the pool plopped the kids in it and at 11 am she made a couple of bloody mary's. We sat in the sun, talked and looked over the pool scene like a couple of really bad lifeguards.

In my defense the V-8 she used was fortified with some sort of extra mineral. Also, she put garlic stuffed olives in them and garlic is good for you right? Logan won't like the smell of me when he gets home, unless he stops at Chrissy's for a little visit with 'Mary' and her garlic stuffed olives.

I had so much fun my face hurt from laughing so hard. But now I'm faced with the fact that under no category can I justify this late morning cocktailing. I have some rules about cocktailing. It seems the only way to justify our morning playgroup cocktail is to call it the "Day After Father's Day Recovery Day" Chrissy's husband was gone all weekend...do you have any idea what kind of a toll that takes on a woman?

I don't know. I'm just not sure that Chrissy and I are the right influence on one another. We're both raging Irish girls with a taste for the drink and a bit of bitterness about the whole parenting thing. She's just a little nicer about it than me.

We may have 'too much fun' together but there is just nothing like a playdate that ends with naptime for everyone.


::: posted by Melissa at 3:43 PM



Saturday, June 14, 2003 :::
 
::Is It Wierd I Love Maternity Clothes?::


In honor of this big announcment...I decided to browse the maternity offerings. I have an obsession with bridal magazines, even though I'm happily married. I also have an obsession with maternity clothing, even though I'm happily done breeding.

I sadly recall back in the summer of 98 during my first pregnancy. The choices were really pretty bad back then. So bad that I actually purchased a dress with sunflowers all over it. I've never been a fan of flowers on my clothing, I've never been a fan of the 'jumper'...but it was hard to look like myself while pregnant.

Instead I ended up looking like I ate an elementary school teacher and then stole her clothes.

During my second pregnancy I did a little better, thanks to great bargains at Babystyle. But even back in the winter of 2000 there were a lot of nasty maternity panels hanging around. Thanks to the Gap, Old Navy and Liz Lange at Target...it's now possible to have an affordable and stylish maternity wardrobe and maybe it's even possible to be panel free for your entire 9 months!

You can wear jeans that look like 'jeans' not like paper-y cotton pants with a denim look to them.

You don't have to wear a tent posing as a shirt...you can wear flattering slim cut tops like this.

You can pretend you're pregnant while starring on Sex In The City.

You can look cool going to yoga

And if your pregnancy isn't uncomfortable enough, you can also add this torture device to your wardrobe. Maternity and Thong are two words I never believed should go together. But you know, when you weigh 40 or 50 more pounds than normal...panty lines really do accentuate your expanded behind. So the maternity thong is a necessary evil. Unless you go au natural.

And I haven't even gotten to diaper bags and nursery furnishings yet!


::: posted by Melissa at 3:49 PM


 
::The Ego Of The Computer Technician::


I understand being a computer guy at the help desk for a large ISP must be pretty irritating. I can imagine the kinds of retarded questions they are asked everyday. I can imagine how aggravating it must be to try and help people figure out their computers. I can imagine how they get people like my mom, who is still mastering the art of 'Call Waiting' after over 10 years of use.

"Oh, wait, I have another call...hold on...okay where's that button, okay hold on....Hello?"

"Still me Mom."

I think they must actually like the job because really it must make them feel smart. I've been on the phone with tech support a lot the past few days because Her Royal Highness Queen Macintosh has been malfunctioning. Most of these malfunctions are unexplainable even by the wise and all knowing help desk technicians.

I think Queen Macintosh is pissing off these technicians because they don't seem very smart when their final words of advice are "Well, I guess you should call someone who is really familiar with the Mac...and if they can't help you, call us back."

I'm wondering why I would call them back at that point? "Well I had a pro look at it. What can you do for me now?"

Today my latest 'All Knowing' technician had this suggestion for me.

"Are you connected to the internet?"
"uh...yes"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure"
"How do you know?"
"I'm loading 3 sites while I talk to you."
"I don't know why you're getting a connection error message if you're connected. You're sure you're connected?"

So then I'm arguing with the technician. He's getting snippy. I'm about to tear his head off. Queen Macintosh is spreading her joy all over, driving me insane and bruising the ego of the help desk guy.



::: posted by Melissa at 2:57 PM



Friday, June 13, 2003 :::
 
::Does This Happen To Anyone Else?::


We own the oldest computer in the world. It is not a Texas Instruments computer, but as far as I am concerned I may as well be playing "Pong" on this piece of crap.

The only redeeming thing on this computer is the little 'Apple' logo all over it. (I am completely loyal to the Mac...but I feel my allegiance fading into the distance.) Otherwise it's a dinosaur. A piece of crap held together with duct tape (not really, but it may as well be)...and the horror of it is we can't buy anything else. Given my ability to spend far beyond our means and my husband's insatiable need for turkey jerky (in some circles known as Soylent Green).

This computer knows I hate it. It knows so on occasion it behaves like a huge bitch. Just all the sudden has the world's slowest connection to the internet. Just all the sudden won't allow me to pick up my email.

This computer appears to enjoy "Wowing" the tech support at my ISP's helpline. As in "Wow, I don't know what could possibly be wrong, I know very little about Mac's...but we've gone through everything that could possibly be causing your problems..."

This computer hates me, and I hate it. We're at a stand off. Either Logan buys me a laptop with a wireless connection....

Or, as my smarter, funnier sister in law says, "These nails are coming off and the shit is on!"




::: posted by Melissa at 11:30 PM



Thursday, June 12, 2003 :::
 
::Would You Rather::


My MOMS Club is going to a Tiger's game. A wholesome family event featuring America's favorite pastime PLUS, beer, hot dogs and free carousel rides.

I think my little darlings would actually enjoy the experience...well except that they're scared of everything that is new...which, considering they've been on this planet for a combined total of 6 years...is pretty much everything. Combine this with the fact that "He Who Is Shrinking" is going on a 150 mile bike ride for MS that weekend...and you have a bit of dilemna.

On the one hand, I like hanging out with the people from my little club. I like their husbands too. I like sharing new things with my children...I also like beer. I like it a lot.

On the other hand, I hate the fact that my children act as though the nuclear holocaust has arrived whenever someone new comes near them and the only fall out shelter is my leg. I also hate the fact that my son has a temper which explodes in a way equivalent to the A-Bomb and no one is exactly sure what sets it off. But once it goes...I have three words for you: Duck and Cover.

So the decision comes down to these choices.

Would you rather go to the tiger's game and endure public mayhem and terror OR sit at home and punch yourself in the face repeatedly?

Because they're actually equal...but I'm opting for beating myself about the face for the afternoon. At least that can be done in private.


::: posted by Melissa at 2:49 PM



Wednesday, June 11, 2003 :::
 
::I Almost Listened::


I just got a call from "Great Escapes Vacations" and... Get This! I have won yet another free vacation! Which is so odd since I win at least one trip a day from these nice people and I've never once returned their calls about these free trips.

Today I happened to pick up the phone...usually they don't get to tell me in person about the great trip I've won. But today this telemarketer got lucky and got to share her exciting news with me up close.

I've developed a polite and short response for telemarketers. "I'm sorry, I'm not interested, stop talking. Good bye." I ask them to stop talking and then I say good bye because I don't want to hang up while they're talking...I'd really hate for them to feel stupid.

Today this lady didn't stop talking, instead she said, "You mean you're not interested in a free vacation?"

It gave me a moment's pause...I really almost listened to her. I had to admire the approach because I use that same approach in arguments with my husband all the time.

For example, while driving through Chicago, lost, in a snow storm and without windshield washer fluid:

Me: "You know, it's no wonder we're lost. You can't see anything through that windshield with the snow freezing up there. Why don't we just stop and get some windshield washer fluid at a gas station."

Logan: (a mumbling sound) "Fine"

Me: "Why did you drive past that gas station, they have windshield washer right there outside?"

Logan: "I think we can make it there without stopping. It's fine I can see just fine."

Me: "Well sure you can see fine if you like being lost and if you like being hunched over looking out of a one inch peephole in the windshield."

Logan: "Please stop, I'm driving it's fine."

***Here It Comes***

Me: "Okay, it's just that I don't know why you'd want to be so miserable when you could just stop and get some washer fluid and everything would be fine. I just don't understand why you don't want to be happy."

And it worked. He squealed into the gas station and bought some windshield washer fluid....because he couldn't argue with that statement. I know he was thinking..."Yes, she's right, why don't I want to be happy?"

He was also probably thinking "If I stop and pick up washer fluid AND dump her out of the car right here in the middle of Chicago, I actually will be really happy."

But he didn't dump me out because he's a lot nicer than me.

So, when this cunning and wise telemarketer questioned my horrid state of being that I wouldn't want a vacation...I actually stopped to ponder for a moment why I am such a wretched soul who can't accept joy and gifts.

But then I realized that over the course of a 40 second phone call I had actually become far dumber than I had been when I originally picked up the phone, and so I hung up.






::: posted by Melissa at 3:53 PM


 
::My EPT Story::


I've tried to sell this joyous double line story to EPT but they don't seem interested. Which is fine, I'll just publish it here.

We'd been trying to get pregnant with Max for 2 months. When I wasn't pregnant after the first month we tried, I was convinced I was infertile and would never again have a child.

I'm a little compulsive about things.

After the second month of trying I just knew I wasn't pregnant and that God had forsaken my uterus.

I'm also a little dramatic about things.

So we went on a road trip with friends to see the infamous Kahiki in Columbus, Ohio before the doors shut forever. The sole purpose of this trip was to drink fruity drinks from smoking glasses all night long, and to watch my husband behave like a child at Disney World.

The oddest thing happened, I couldn't drink. I like to drink, a lot. I'd even say I'm a heavy hitter. I especially like to drink while out with all my friends at a really cheesy tiki bar with volcanos and hula dancers. Very little makes me not drink, except illness, pregnancy and the designation as driver.

After we arrived home I decided I really should see if God had taken pity on me and allowed me to reproduce, because otherwise it was fairly obvious I had some terrible disease given the fact I couldn't drink all weekend.

The only thing is, when I was done peeing on the stick I realized I'd eaten a lot of really nasty road food over the course of the trip and I had more 'business' to finish in the bathroom.

I distinctly recall thinking..."If this test is positive, I'm going to feel really stupid sitting here taking a crap for this momentous occasion."

And wouldn't you know it. There I was taking a crap and the line came up and I started screaming for Logan who came running to the bathroom thinking I quite possibly had some Kahiki related food poisoning. I held up the stick and all he said was,

"Are you taking a shit?"





::: posted by Melissa at 3:29 PM



Tuesday, June 10, 2003 :::
 
::+++++::


Uh, no not me Jackasses.

Someone peed on a stick, redecorated a room, was hormonally deranged and thought she was bloating for no apparent reason. As a matter of fact...she was pregnant.

I wish I had been pregnant and/or post partum while on the internet. I have thankfully given up on those dreams and am now so hopeful Ms. Armstrong will make me proud. I hope she'll feel the joy, see the true madness of it all and keep her sense of humor through it all.

Oh, oh, oh....I can't wait to read her take on this ride she's taking off on.

I also feel the need to censor some of my thoughts on parenting for her. Jesus....I'll ruin the experience for her before she even gets started.




::: posted by Melissa at 10:55 PM


 
::Bathing Suit::


Everyone complains about bathing suits. So do I. I'm already dreading putting mine on.

I'm wondering if I can pray to the Patron Saint Of Cropped Pants to make the Cropped Pant Swimsuit the look of Summer 2003.


::: posted by Melissa at 2:35 PM



Monday, June 09, 2003 :::
 
::Worthy::


I pray for things. Typically I pray about really difficult situations for people I know and love. I pray for them to find strength and courage. I pray for relief for those who are suffering. I pray for sleep for new mothers. I pray for new jobs and I pray for lay offs to pass over those who I love. I pray for the health of my family.

I'm actually not all that religious and I'm sure whomever it is I am praying to realizes this. However, this spirit does seem to listen to me sometimes.

Sometimes, though, I pray for really stupid things. I pray for the house next door to sell to quiet people, I pray for a babysitter, I pray for money, I pray for an iBook, I pray for central air. I've even prayed (several times) that cropped pants never go out of style, because I am never again wearing shorts and I'll feel really stupid wearing pants all year.

I kind of think that whomever it is I am praying to really finds that prayer especially irritating. He's probably thinking of his huge back log of issues to follow and I'm down here chiming in with fashion requests.

That's one thing I think the catholics have right. You can direct prayers to specific saints thus relieving some of the workload for the 'Big Guy'. Delegating at it's finest. Seems wise to me, I suppose I'll have to see if there's a patron saint for each of my many causes. I'm betting there's some beautiful saintly woman who's in charge of fashion and I just hope she likes cropped pants as much as I do.



::: posted by Melissa at 3:38 PM


 
::Imagination::


This is a typical game my daughter and I play.

Her: "Okay, you be this doll, and you be the mommy doll."

Me: "Allright."

Her: "Mom...you have to make her talk"

Me: "Hello, how are you?"

Her: "I'm fine."

Me: "That's good."

And then I'm all out of ideas. Sometimes I really think I should have become a crazy cat lady with hundreds of cats rather than a mother.



::: posted by Melissa at 10:03 AM



Friday, June 06, 2003 :::
 
Shots All Around!


Today I lied to my daughter. I told her we were going to the doctor and I didn't think there would be shots involved. But I thought wrong. All morning I knew I was lying to her. I took her to the toystore and bought yet another stuffed dog to try and curb my guilt. I took her out to lunch. I even went so far as to take her to the pet store to look at the puppies.

But when we arrived at the doctor....yes, there were shots involved. Needless to say I was shocked to learn three shots would be a part of our visit today...and now my daughter has had her first experience with betrayal.

Oddly enough, my 2 year old required four shots.

Everyone in this house at this moment hates me.

The next round of shots starts in 5 minutes when my husband walks through the door because I will be clocking out for the night.

My shots probably won't make me cry, but who knows...perhaps the guilt will get to me.


::: posted by Melissa at 6:24 PM



Thursday, June 05, 2003 :::
 
::Why Does Totshop Sell Such Cute Things I Can't Fathom Buying?::


My therapist seems to think I have a little spending issue. I will admit to having no self control over my spending. In my world "We're broke" has very little meaning. I swear I grew up believing the 'Money Machine' was exactly that. And to be honest...I really like believing that and I'm having a hard time accepting it's not actually true.

As such, I have found a new way to torment my fragile soul. I shop on the internet but I don't buy anything. It's very very difficult to do this...but it does satisfy some deep need in me.

I found this and I think it just might be the coolest shirt for a toddler I've ever seen.

I also found this and I actually believe I will die on the spot if my son does not wear this shirt by the end of summer. This also may be why my therapist keeps harping on my money issues.

Usually I avoid the girl stuff because resisting the temptation when adorable little girl clothes are involved...it's really cruel and inhumane. However, I did see these and yes, it is cruel and inhumane indeed.


::: posted by Melissa at 9:36 PM


 
::I'm Thinking::


I'm thinking I'm either going to have to stop buying adorable small chairs at every antique store, garage sale and flea market I go to or I'm going to have to get more midget friends. Soon all the chairs in my house will be scaled to those who are 3 feet tall.

I'm also thinking it's a bad sign when you have a book titled "Toxic In Laws" on your nightstand.



::: posted by Melissa at 2:11 PM



Tuesday, June 03, 2003 :::
 
::Rethinking The Mini Van::


This funny lady brings up some valid points about the mini van. Read her thoughts here.

Of her excellent anti-mini van points I see one with great potential for me. It's where she points out:

Friend with mini van: "Hey! We can carpool!"
Me, without mini van: "Great Idea! But oh wait I can't fit extras in my car....oh well they can ride in the trunk"
Friend with mini van: "Uhm...I don't think so."
Me, without mini van: "Hey! I know! Why don't you drive ALL the time and I'll mix up the drinks and we can have cocktail hour when you're done with carpool duty."

But you see, this gal lives in a place with a lot of mormons, and maybe mormons are a lot nicer than my hedonistic suburban friends...because in my world-

No Mini Van=No Carpool=Drive Your Own Kid In Your Non Mini-Van


I also like her analogy of the mini van as uterus. A big comfortable uterus driving down the road, screaming everywhere you go "Hey! I've birthed kids and now I'm toting them all over...and I've got room for MORE!"

I don't know...that really doesn't turn me off the mini van. A uterus is a nice safe, warm and quiet place. With dual zone climate control, I can be comfortable and so can the kids and with the dvd player...'TV Coma' will kick in and it'll be quiet. A lot like a uterus.

And like a uterus, a mini van isn't cool to look at....but it does it's job extraordinarily well. It's functional beyond belief. In fact the uterus is kind of magical, and if you get that cool disappearing third row seat....the minivan is magic too.

In fact I'll even go so far as to call the minivan miraculous. Sure, the uterus gives us the miracle of life...but if my kids will sit comfortably on the 'Punch Yourself In The Face' boring drive to Indianapolis, if Logan and I can actually talk to each other instead of tending to every whiney demand from the back of the car, if there's room for us to spread the kids out to avoid arguments....well in my book that's a miracle!

I wonder when our lease is up....


::: posted by Melissa at 2:00 PM



Monday, June 02, 2003 :::
 
::Magic!::


I get this a lot.

"They're only young once, enjoy it."

Most of the time I agree with the sentiment. The thought is correct, however, reality interferes.

Usually it's someone older, maybe they're senile. Because a lot of the time they say this to me in the midst of one of Max's public fits.

"Oh, he's a little pistol isn't he? Enjoy it...it goes far too quickly."

Here's what I do, I smile broadly and say...'Oh yes, I know.'

Here's what I'm thinking: 'Now, tell me, which part of this particular moment am I supposed to be enjoying. Is it the sreaming lunatic I'm fighting to control? Is it the near constant sound of a small child's voice saying "Mom, mom, mom, mom" Should I be enjoying the sweat pouring down my face because I can't even make a run through the market to get milk without this unstable child of mine turning into my own personal Damien? Because I don't know, I'm just not enjoying this at all.
As a matter of fact at this particular moment I simply can not wait until my children are grown and married and giving me grandchildren. Because at that point, perhaps the parent amnesia will have taken hold of me and I'll be in line at the market watching a mother with young kids and I'll remind her what 'magic' she's living."

And you know what? When I'm the old lady at the market watching that young mother struggle with her kids...I will actually remember the magic of this time. Because that's the way this parenting thing works. The bad parts are pretty easily forgotten. You see that's the magic...the fact that you can forget how hard it is when you're done with it.


::: posted by Melissa at 2:04 PM



Sunday, June 01, 2003 :::
 
::A Priest, a Rabbi and....::


My daughter knows one joke. And one joke only. To her it is funny every single time she tells it, but to most people it's really not at all funny.

Madison: Knock, knock
The Victim: Who's there?
Madison: Boo.
The Victim: Boo Who?
Madison: Ah, you don't have to cry about it.

Yesterday, she told this joke 20 times in a span of thirty minutes. She said it so many times the left side of my face went numb and drool started to ooze down the side of my face.

Thank God my sister was with us, together we made this joke funny to us.

Madison: Knock knock.
Aunt Teri: Who's there?
Madison: Boo!
Aunt Teri: Go the hell away already BOO. I don't want to talk to you anymore!! Remember that restraining order???

This didn't give us the desired effect however.

The joke then changed to...

"Okay, so a priest, a rabbi and a blow up chicken walk into a bar......the blow up chicken says, 'knock knock', the priest says, 'Who's there?', the blow up chicken says, 'Boo'. The priest says, 'Boo who?' The blow up chicken says, 'You don't have to cry about it.' Then the rabbi shoots them both."

Instantly improved joke. Perhaps not entirely kid appropriate, but sometimes it's gotta be that way.



::: posted by Melissa at 2:03 PM


 
::In The Carpool Lane To Hell::


If you say "Chuck E. Cheese's" really fast...it sounds a lot like "Chuck E. Jesus"

Which is fitting because my children actually worship in the house of Chuck E. Jesus. It's their own personal mecca. A religious experience going there. It's actually as close as my kids get to religion at this point now that Madison is done with preschool at the Presbyterian church.

It's a little ironic that their vision of heaven looks a lot like my own personal hell. But at least they sell beer, or if you prefer...they have fancy wine that pours from a tap! Ooh la la.



::: posted by Melissa at 1:50 PM






Where Neurosis Lives




Outfitting Very Small Brides Since 2003!
(also a lovely wedding keepsake)
Miss Periwinkle

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