Mommy's Juice!: April 2012   

Monday, April 30, 2012

Munchies Ma'am??




I went to the neighborhood pizza joint the other night for take-out.   We rarely get take-out, mainly because we aren’t in a very “take-out friendly” area.  This particular pizza place might as well be throwing Di’Jiorno’s in their ovens, they are seriously that tasty.  But after a tough Friday at work and absolutely no desire to cook, take-out Di’Jiorno rip-off it was!

I called in my order and arrived at the twenty minutes later mark I was given, only to be told it wasn’t ready yet.  I can’t imagine why, I was the only customer in the place at the horrific dining hour of 5:30pm.  But believe me, not having food on the table for my kids by 6pm is like feeding Gizmo after midnight.  You really don’t want to go there.

Anyways, as I sat waiting for my pizza to cook I was greeted by what had to be the heavy metal station on Satellite Radio.  And I mean HEAVY metal.  I didn’t even realize people listened to metal anymore!  This made me take a second look at my chef’s of the evening, both of whom I noticed were wearing black tees with the names of bands I had never even heard of.  I actually work in the music industry, I know music, even music I don’t like, and these were foreign to me.

Did I mention the date of this excursion was Friday, April 20th?  As in 4-20?  As I stare in wonder another person comes through the front door looking eerily like the two behind the counter.  When he walks up to the counter the cashier asks, “Hey man, how’s your holiday going?”  His “holiday”??  I pondered this question for a minute before it hit me that it was in fact 4-20, the international stoner holiday.  Once I understood the greeting the next thing I pondered was, why didn’t he ask me how my holiday was going?  Hey, I’m not exactly puffing my way to work every morning, but I must admit, I felt somewhat discriminated against for not being included in the festivities. 

As the two discussed their celebrations for the occasion my pizza came out of the oven.  “Ma’am, your pizza is ready?”  Who in the hell is MA’AM!   Realizing I am the only female in the room, I am mortified to have to answer his call of the old and dull.  When did I become ma’mm, when was I no longer invited to join in on ridiculously stupid holidays created to encourage bad behavior, and someone please tell me when I started eating dinner at the ridiculous hour of 6pm???   I am so un-cool.  So, so, very un-cool.   

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Isn't It Sad?



Isn't it sad...

That I let the boys walk on my back because it's the closest thing to a massage I can get these days?

When you start to consider birthday cake one of your major food groups?

When you leave poop in the baby's diaper because you know your hubby will be home soon and it's his turn next right?

That the kid's are up at 6:30am every weekend morning, but when you need them up on a work day they feel like sleeping in?

To bribe your child with a quarter if he'll just shut up for the next five minutes?

When he doesn't earn that quarter?

Isn't it sad.....

When you describe yourself to someone looking for you as the "one who looks like she just had to drop two kids off at daycare?"

To pay a babysitter $15/hour to watch your television set while your children sleep?

When you prefer to drink on work nights instead of on the weekend's when you are home with the kids?

That rain in the forecast gives you nightmares of being stuck inside with your kids?

When you get that God awful Caillou songs stuck in your head all day?

Isn't it sad.....

When the teacher's at daycare have to send you multiple reminders to bring in family photos?  Which you haven't done yet because you actually haven't printed any...

To stoop so far as telling your kids the park is "closed" simply because you can't face the ordeal of packing everyone up and into the car?

That "free time" has turned into a glass of wine and a quick bath, during which your children bust through the door at least three times?

When you realize for the first time that Shaggy is a total stoner?

Yes, it's sad.  Sad, worth it, and one day to be missed I suppose!

Monday, April 16, 2012

Stalker Mom



I've always thought of myself as a laid back mom.  I fully believe in the term, "learn the hard way."  If it takes falling off the ladder to realize you shouldn't have been climbing it, so be it.  If you have to fall into the ditch to finally stop getting so close to it, well lesson learned. With two adventurous little boys to keep a constant eye on, I almost had to adopt this style of parenting, or I'd find myself even more stressed than I already am.  So I must say, even I was a little shocked to find myself sitting on the side of a mountain fully STALKING my 3-year old during his ski lesson recently.  

Living in a ski town means enrolling your kids in ski school by 3-years old at the latest, waiting any longer would be considered child abuse in these parts.  So I signed Jackson up for the Sunday 6-week beginners program this winter.  Due to a recent knee surgery my husband didn't get a ski pass this year, which meant 6 glorious Sunday's that I got to drop the little guy off and spend an entire day all to myself snowboarding., a luxury I haven't been able to indulge in since his birth.

I was a little concerned when I wrote the check that first morning. Jackson isn't exactly the best listener, and skiing isn't exactly the least expensive sport.  I was pretty much convinced I was throwing money down the toilet for what would end up being an extremely pricey daycare.  But when I picked him up after day one I realized I was mistaken.  He LOVED it!  Listened fantastic and was skiing on the magic carpet all day.

The following week when I picked him up they informed me he had gone up the "skittles" lift.  A short distance from the magic carpet itself this was expected and I couldn't have been more proud.  Then, as I am dropping him off on day 3 I hear his instructor say, "after lunch today we're planning to go up the Fanny Hill lift."  Um...excuse me. The Fanny Hill lift, although no black diamond, is still a pretty big deal.  This is the real lift, with the real people, and to imagine my toddler going out into this dangerous new venture without me was petrifying.  Sure, I should have taken the laid back mom attitude of, "knock em dead kiddo," but instead out came the voice of a mother I've never met before, "really, Fanny Hill, are you sure he's ready for that?"  Seeing my concern the instructor said they would go only after a few runs at the bottom to make sure he was ready.

Well she wasn't the only one that was going to make sure.  I raced to my car, threw on my snowboard gear, and literally sat on the side of the bottom of the mountain, stalking every kid's lesson I saw, trying to spot my little man to make sure he was ready for this big step. After nearly an hour of sitting in the cold snow he appeared.  Looking like a little peanut coming down the mountain I watched as he made absolute PERFECT turns.  How in the hell can a three year old do this? Convinced he was in good hands I went off to enjoy the rest of my day, bragging to all my fellow chair lift riders on my amazing skier going up the big lift on his third day.  "Aren't you worried," one lady asked, to which I replied, "oh of course not, he'll never learn if he doesn't try."