That's What I Get For Raising Smart Ass Children

So, the other day my son and I were getting our teeth cleaned at our bi-annual trip to the dentist. He was x-rayed and cleaned first - then came over to hang out with me while they worked me over. Christian went to the toy box to get his prize - even though he is 16 years old. The yo-yo sucked so he went back to get something else. The chair was reclined back, my eyes behind the protective glasses were closed and my mouth was wide open. The Dental Hygienist turned her head to grab a tool and my man-child crammed a toy truck in my mouth.

It. Was. Awesome.

As Long As He Enjoys His Death, It's All Good

My son is playing in a Lacrosse tournament this weekend and I just had to sign the following waiver:

I understand that the dangers and risks of playing or practicing to play or participate in Lacrosse include, complete or partial paralysis, brain damage, serious injury to all bones, joints, ligaments, muscles, tendons, and other aspects of the muscular skeletal system, serious injury to virtually all internal organs, and serious injury or impairment to other aspects of the body, general health, and well being. I understand that the dangers and risks of playing or practicing to play or participate in Lacrosse may result not only in serious injury, but in a serious impairment of future abilities to earn a living, to engage in other business, social and recreational activities, and generally to enjoy life.

WTF??? Seriously, how is a mother supposed to sign something like that?

I'm pretty sure I had to sign the same thing when I was registering to play this game of life as well.

What the hell was I thinking?

Disney Acquires Social Network For Kids Togetherville

Disney Acquires Social Network For Kids TogethervilleDisney has just acquired Togetherville, a social network for kids 10 years of age or younger, we’ve confirmed with the company. Terms of the acquisition are not being disclosed at the moment.Togetherville, which exited beta last year, mimics the experience of adult social networking sites, i.e. Facebook but in an age-appropriate and

Happygasms Where I Least Expected Them

Last night I attended my daughter's Jr High School orchestra concert where a professional musician named Aaron Ashton (who I believe is a friend of her teacher) performed to raise funds for the school's music department.

Holy shit.

Once in a while we are fortunate enough to see someone perform that takes what they do to a whole new level. Someone who has become so skilled and so out of this world perfect that it seems the most effortless thing ever done and leaves you breathless and gaping - jaw dropped. That was what last night gifted me with. I seriously needed a cigarette when this guy was done playing.

To see an orchestra full of kids playing along with that level of talent and to see my beautiful daughter and her cello get swept up in the gorgeous music (she also got to sing with him) was priceless. The video below (not from last night and, unfortunately, poorly shot) is them performing my favorite song of the evening.



Check him out. His album "Split The Difference" is really incredible. If you ever get the chance to hear him and his band play, jump on it. You will be so glad you did.

Yey, public school! They step up once in a while.

Friday Video: 3 Year Old Jonathan Conducting Beethoven

Talk about being Freak of Nature Talented. Oh, the rapture...

Remember when life was like this? When you experienced the things you loved, and were good at, this vibrantly? This completely? This blissfully?

No? Please try.

When was the last time you threw yourself into something you enjoy this much with all your heart and, when you were done, threw yourself on the floor and laughed out loud in complete and utter satisfaction and joy?

How about today?

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Related Links
Friday Video: Jessica's Daily Affirmation

Stolen Post: Drugs, Addiction And Brutally Murdered Fairies

While I will not expound on the few ways in which I disagree with this Post I Stole From Cafe Mom I will say that it is an AWESOME way for parents to make their kids laugh while helping them to understand that drugs can seriously hurt their bodies.

Parents, it's quite funny. Don't think I didn't just post it on the Facebook Profiles of my Loin Fruit.

Persnickety Pickle Pants - For Real

Is it seriously Thursday already? I am blog-sucking again. Okay, that didn't come out the way I intended but it is just too awesome a sentence and visual to correct. You know what I meant...

So, my cousin decided she was going to design children's clothing. I didn't blink an eye. As crass as it sounds, cousin Corinne craps creativity. (She should probably also think about selling seashells by the seashore.) When I learned that she was calling her company Persnickety Clothing Co. I jigged a mighty jig. She is Persnickety, I am Hullabaloo. Happygasmic words exist and all is well in my world.

And then I saw the clothes. They are, seriously, the cutest clothes you ever did see (yes, even cuter than the cutest little penis you ever did see.) Now, I am done having children. For real. But, these clothes actually make my uterus sit up and scream, "Come to Mama!"


I want to dress the entire globe in them. (They actually do have a Buy One Give One program - for every item sold, they donate a beautiful dress to a third world country.) Hell, I want to wear them myself. I am aware that actually doing so would be odd and somewhat pathetic. Things delightful in Kidland don't always translate in Adultworld - like my friend's son who went with us to the health food store with his entire head covered in tin foil. On a four year old it is hysterical. A man does the same and we're all steering our children away from Uncle Pervy and his helmet of shame.

But, come on, how fabulous would I look sitting on the bar, shooting Tequila, in this outfit?

It's Fun To Stay At The...

So, last night I went to watch my son in the Spring Dance Recital at the Jr High my kids attend. Ballroom dance would have been a seriously shame-based activity in CA when I was in Jr High in the early 80's but now, here, it is a cause for much student body rejoicing.

In the middle of the 2 hour long festival of mid-pubescent movement, the lights dimly came up on 5 silhouettes. I instantly knew what I was looking at but could scarcely believe it was real. "Noooo..." I thought, "It can't be. I'm not that lucky..." Oh, but hot damn ladies and gentlemen, as it turns out - I AM That Lucky!!!

The soundtrack of my childhood suddenly blasted through the sound system and the blinding lights came up on a Construction Worker, Policeman, Army-dude, Indian and Cowboy gettin' their serious boogie on. I was so overcome with celestial glee that I didn't even care that they left out the Harley Leather Dude. Last night, a Jr. High School in Salt Lake City, Utah paid homage to The Village People. Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. And a God. And they Both Love Me!!!

Legally One

The other night, my kids and I went to the wedding reception of a gay couple that we are absolutely head over heels for. If you asked my children who their favorite humans on the planet are, these two would both be near the top of the list. For me, there are no words...

Without question they have the relationship I dream of having.

They flew to Boston and were legally married. The justice of the peace that performed their ceremony told them that not one word had been changed for gay marriages - word for word the vows are the same for straight and gay couples. Their reception, attended by family and friends (many of the LDS faith) was held in a very classy Salt Lake cafe. There was delicious food, drinks, music, candles and tree lights, laughter, tears and happy-happy-joy-joy.

And, behold, the sky did not fall.

Bon Appetit

Last night I was in need of an escape so I took myself to a movie. "Julie & Julia" was exactly what I needed - in far more ways than one.

First of all, I got to spend over two hours with Meryl (my true eternal companion), Stanley Tucci never fails to delight me (if you have not seen "The Impostors" you must - the first 15 minutes of he and Oliver Platt is freaking brilliant) and I got to stare at and fantasize about food - something I don't do nearly enough. Seriously, who needs porn when we have the Food Network?

My father was a gourmet chef. He worked at, and helped manage, Scott's Seafood in San Francisco when I was little. He was cuisinely talented, passionate and obsessed. I remember when Dole had a pineapple recipe contest we ate pineapple cakes, muffins, salads, curries... for weeks. We had homemade doughnuts and dumplings coming out our eyeballs. He either created his own culinary masterpieces or made already existing recipes far better than originally planned. When I spent the night at his apartment he would apologize to me for the leftovers then proceed to serve me something that made my taste buds explode and left me feeling like I needed to confess to my bishop.

I always thought that I would be like my dad. That I would be the kind of mom that made delicious and healthy meals from scratch. That my children would have a long list of favorite foods that their mom made. But then I didn't think that I would be raising children alone. And I had no idea then that cooking real, healthy food was so damn expensive. I thought my children would never eat hot dogs. Ha. With my money and time on the strictest of budgets and my energy spread so thin - my sweet kids eat far more microwaveable and thrown together food than I ever imagined possible.

And it breaks my heart.

I used to cook. I know how. It's in my blood. And I miss it terribly. Like singing. It is one of those things that has been hidden, lying dormant, in the depths of me and is screaming to have life breathed back into it.

Like most of my friends who saw "Julie & Julia" I feel inspired to break out the cookbooks and my mortar and pestle and get to work. But, unlike most of those same friends who made two or three dishes then gave up, I am reclaiming this as a part of my life. It ain't going to be easy - I am already doing the juggling act of the century. But it is important. Food is one of the great sensual joys of life that I am totally depriving myself and my children of. Such bullshit.

Baby steps. One amazing meal a week. Tonight, my dad's own chicken spaghetti recipe which is to die for. Or, better yet, to live for.

Let the fun begin.

And Then Fire Shot Out Of His Eyes

Yesterday our children got a beautiful pep talk from an articulate, successful man who overcame an under privileged childhood to become the first black President of the United States. A kind human being that knows about hard work and the need for confidence and education took the time to tell my kids, who are also being raised by a struggling single mother, that they must take responsibility for their own lives and education, that where they are right now doesn't have to determine where they'll end up, that no one's written their destiny for them and that they make their own future. He challenged them to set goals for themselves, to never give up on themselves, and to not let their failures define them. He inspired them by asking them what their contribution is going to be. What problems are they going to solve? What discoveries will they make?

Right before this man spoke to my daughter, a girl in her class got up and started gathering her books. My daughter asked her where she was going. Her response: "My mom doesn't want me to listen to Satan."

Let me clarify one thing - I have actually heard Satan's pep talk to kids and it talks a lot about doing drugs to make life better, having lots of sex with kids from detention centers with condoms made of rice paper, burning crosses on the lawns of people you don't like, hating yourself, hating your parents, dropping out of school to become rodeo clowns, posing naked for magazines that don't airbrush and sticking your head up the butts of large zoo animals.

Satan my ass.

Thank you, Mr. President, for giving a shit about my kids.

The Best Mother's Day EVER

Yesterday, my teenage son and almost teenage daughter gave me the best gift I could ever have hoped for. For over two whole hours they gave me my babies back. My daughter will still cuddle with me but my son? Yeah, right. And that's how it should be. He is a young man - there are definite boundaries now. He hugs me, but cuddling? Yeah, good luck with that. I have said before how monumentally unfair it is that we mothers are given these beautiful babies and that our job, from day one, is to teach them to not need us. They still need me in many, many ways but not in some of the ways I want them to still need me. Not in some of the ways I still need them.

But yesterday... I woke up to them yelling private jokes at me and singing while giving me breakfast in bed. They made me an omelet, turkey bacon, bagels, juice... and beside all that on the tray - one of my favorite memories. Years ago, when they were 4&6 they gave me breakfast in bed (family tradition) for either my birthday or Mother's Day. They didn't know how to cook and so they dug through the cupboards and gave me a warm can of Classic Coke (which I HATE) on a plate surrounded by sunflowers seeds and gumballs. So, yesterday I got the same treat next to my real food. Have I told you how funny my babies are? They are, both of them, hysterical.

Then they proceeded to wrestle and tease and joke and burrow in my covers and stand on my head and accidentally hit me while they were trying to hit one another. Their body slams hurt far more now than when they were little but their fights when things went too far made me laugh more than they used to.

We played forever and then they treated me to a movie. X-men. They opened doors for me, held my hands, told me they loved me. It was an entire day spent in heaven. What more could a mother ask for?

Not much.

Other People's Sensibilities Aren't My Concern ...

So, I found out this week from Charlene that my blog is banned in Little Rock. Well, not the whole city, but it has been banned at the Arkansas Heart Hospital. BTW, that is where Charlene’s dad is currently, so if you get a chance please send some good vibes and positive thoughts his way. I’m sure they would be appreciated.

Anyway, Charlene informed me that she could not access my blog through the hospital’s wireless network because it was blocked for “objectionable content.” No. Fucking. Way!

Actually she says that “several” blogs are blocked for the same reasons. So, I guess that the corporate overlords of the Arkansas Heart Hospital have decided to protect their patients, guests and staff from themselves by making sure that they don’t “happen” upon my blog and be all offended like or something. How thoughtful of them, huh?

I’m actually more honored than anything else. This really is one of the proudest moments in the history of this blog. Getting banned, along with getting hate mail (and some fan mail from time to time too) tells me that people really are noticing me and that makes me feel good.

But you know, it’s entirely possible that some of the patients at that hospital would actually feel better if they read my blog. And it might perk them up a bit to get a chance to see a pic of .... Oh IDK ... maybe .... CARRIE UNDERWOOD IN A BIKINI!!


OW! Baby!

So, where was I? Oh yea, getting banned. Maybe I should sue? I wonder if I could get some airtime on Bill O’Reilly over this? Maybe I could turn this into some really good publicity? This would further my life’s desire to become a pseudo-celebrity and get pictures of me partying with Paris Hilton in Hollywood posted onto the pages of the gossip sites! It could happen!



Anyway, this also leads me to another situation that presented itself earlier this week. Tali, over at Misadventures has created a blog for her son. It’s a pretty cool idea too. It gives him a chance to work on his language and writing skills and all that cool stuff. I mentioned to her that I was reading his blog, but not commenting because I didn’t figure that she would want him to follow me back over to my blog. Tali said that she could block my blog if I was worried about that. That was sweet of her wasn’t it? But, if I wasn’t so damn lazy I could follow Dana’s suggestion and just create a separate blogger account and sign in on that one to comment over there. Cause what’s the fun of having a blog if you aren’t getting any comments, right?



BTW, before all you super sensitive mommy bloggers go bonkers I should let you know that Tali is monitoring her son’s internet usage very closely and he has to log on through one of these net nanny type software programs that blocks all the really bad sites. Unfortunately I haven’t achieved the level of offensiveness to get banned by that software ... yet.



What’s really funny about all this is that I’ve never really been particularly concerned that some kid might wander past my blog and see and read things that he/she shouldn’t. Mostly because I don’t really care. Because I don’t really consider it my job to protect anyone’s kids from my blog. I consider that to be their parent’s job. If parents are just going to let their kids get on a computer and surf the net and aren’t going to be worried or concerned about what they are seeing or reading then I’m not going to be either.

I’m fully aware that there are probably teenage boys (and maybe some girls too) are searching “Giada de Laurentiis Nude” or maybe even for pics of Haden Panettiere in her cowgirl outfit (Aunt Jackie was the first one to recognize "Claire Bennett." Good job Jaxxx! And Malcolm too, cause he recognized her also.) or whatever and are coming across this blog. Well, I got news for ya sport. You’ll have to put the lube down and keep searching cause those naked pics of Giada don’t exist. Okay, actually it’s because there really isn’t anything on this blog that they won’t find on network TV or at least on MTV and E! reality shows. So what the hell. If parents are letting their kids surf the net unsupervised then you know they’re not monitoring what shows those kids watch either.

Now, don’t get me wrong here. If I’m standing on a street corner and you and your kid are there too, and you don’t have a hold of your kid’s hand or have him on a leash or something and he starts to run out into traffic, do I feel obligated to grab him and keep him from getting run over by a bus? Yes. Unless I already have my camera in video mode and ready to go. CNN and Fox News will pay good money for videos like that, ya know. But, I don’t feel obligated to make sure your kid doesn’t read dirty words or see pics of scantily clad babes on this blog.

So, what have we learned today? That I don’t really care about your kids. No wait, that’s not it at all. It’s just that I don’t worry about things like kids finding my blog. I don’t really want to lay out a path to my blog for them, but if they happen to come across it then oh well. And if you don’t want your kids to see certain websites or watch certain television programs then it’s up to you to block those things, not up to me try to keep them away or up to the government or corporations to censor them on your behalf. Besides, this blog isn’t really THAT bad, and isn’t doing THAT much damage to society. No matter what crabby, bitchy, whiny, holier-than-thou emailers and the Arkansas Heart Hospital might think.