Mommy's Juice!: July 2012   

Monday, July 30, 2012

Kinda Wondering What Party Mom & Dad Were Smoking...



After working late on Friday and Saturday night I was looking forward to a relaxing Sunday night at home. Jackson had a birthday party to go to that afternoon, after which I was planning to hit the grocery store and pick up something yummy for hubby to make for dinner while we watched the Olympics. Unfortunately this plan fell apart.  Why?  My money is on a little girl's parents smoking some funny right before her 4th birthday party!

With a start time of 3pm on a Sunday afternoon I went into this party imagining a departure time of 5pm at the latest.  The party was for a girl in Jackson's class at preschool whose family I don't know.  But she and Jackson seem to be good friends so I hated for him to miss it.  Upon arrival I recognized a few faces but still felt like a bit of a loner as I didn't know anyone better than the occasional "Good Morning," "How ya doing's" we've shared during drop off and pick up. Therefore I spent most of the party in that awkward position of "the mom everyone thinks they should make small talk with."  Have I mentioned I'm not a fan of small talk?  Oh the things we do for our children!

After letting the kids play for what seemed like an eternity party dad looks at party mom and says, "what about the arts & crafts?"  To which she replied, "oh my goodness I totally forgot!" Out comes projects for all of the kids, fun but just a little over their heads, and therefore needing to be finished by party mom one right after another.  I tried to assist in order to speed up operations but unfortunately crafts have never been my strong point so I think I was holding things up more than helping.  When every child finally had their pirate sword or princess tiara in place, party dad starts the grilled cheese sandwiches.  A good choice for kids, but not exactly something you can make mass quantities of quickly.

Forty five minutes later the kid's meal was ready.  As they began eating I see party dad pull out a plate full of raw tuna for the grille.  Apparently this was to be the adults meal (BTW - damn good choice party dad!) that he started cooking after the kids ate.  At this point, I realize we've hit the 5pm mark and although I hate to miss the tuna and of course more small talk, I start searching for Jackson to make our exit.  But let's be serious here, what kid is going to leave a birthday party before cake is served.  So I waited for my tuna and proceeded with another twenty minutes of small talk, including an interesting conversation in which party dad makes the joke that when he started college his only interest was in making water bongs.  AHA - at this point I realize why this party is lasting an eternity, party mom and dad are on another planet! At the very end of the tuna dinner party dad tells party mom, "we should do the cake," and I can feel my exit quickly approaching.  "Oh no, I forgot," she replies, "it takes about 15 minutes of thawing before you can serve."  So close!

Fifteen minutes later cake is cut, kids are eating and I'm thinking my grocery store trip is out of the question and my dream dinner just turned into tuna with strangers but at least there was still time left to enjoy the evening at home.  This hope was destroyed as I hear party mom announce to the group, "oh my goodness, we forgot the pinata."  Trying to get Jackson home after he'd had heard the word pinata would have been like trying to pull me away from a party in college before the free keg was dry, it just wasn't going to happen.  And so I sat through the debate of where to hang the pinata, followed by the debate of what to hit it with, followed by a pinata pounding from 12 kids that didn't put so much as a dent into the damn thing.  Another turn for each kid, followed by another, followed by party mom slashing the pinata with a knife in an effort to make it easier to open, followed by another round of worthless hits, followed by the God given gift of another parent who was having as much fun as myself at this point and took it upon himself to hop in the whacking line and knock the shit out of the pirate hat that would not crack! 

Three hours and forty five minutes after arriving Jackson said his thank you's to party mom and party dad and we headed home in just enough time for, well, nothing!

Red Bull IV's and Wal Mart's Finest: Editor's Faves!



As a “mommy blogger” I’m constantly checking out other “mom” sites.   Obviously through this process I’ve ran into quite a few product review sites.  I think these sites are great, however, as a full-time working mother of two boys I look at my blog less as another revenue generator (although if you’re reading this Oprah, we totally need to hook it up!), and more as my little attempt at comedy in this crazy world.

That said, I do find the whole product endorsement aspect of a blog interesting.  Not because I want to tell people how fabulous I think something is and make money (although again, that would be nice, yes Wal Mart family I'm talking to you), but because I want to tell people how fabulous I think something is because I have found that I am pretty much always right and would like to share some of my uncanny wisdom with others. 

And so, I give you the first installment of Mommy’s Juice totally free product endorsements (with the caveat that should the brand manager from any of the below products feel the need to compensate me for this invaluable marketing opportunity I am free at all hours of the day to discuss!):

1. Stouffer’s Lasagna: has there ever been an easier or tastier dinner for a family of four?  Aside from the KFC 8 piece, I’m going to go ahead and say NOT!

2. Clorox Wipes: these handy little fella’s make you actually feel like you live in a clean house, when in actuality you’ve just disguised utter filth in high traffic areas for that Saturday night dinner party, while making sure no one opens the “closed doors” to see your true housekeeping skills.

3. Wal Mart French Toast: the “ultimate’ sweet breakfast treat for those of us that “love” to cook. Just call me Betty Crocker!

4. Stemless Wine Glasses: assuming that most of my readers have children, I feel this product requires no explanation!

5. Red Bull: why in the hell does this not come in an IV!  Throw in a shot of vodka for an even better review!



Friday, July 27, 2012

Supposinoooory!!

EDITOR'S NOTE: THERE WAS ABSOLUTELY NO PHOTO
IN THE UNIVERSE APPROPRIATE FOR THIS POST!!

Four mother eff'ing years old and you still haven't mastered pooping on the potty!!!  This is the freaking nightmare I am living everyday. And quite frankly, I'm over it!  So over it, that I decided to stray from the doctor's advice of avoiding the dreaded suppository.

This decision was based less on my own extensive medical experience (yes, that is a joke) and more on the fact that Jackson's preschool had threatened to make him stay home on Wednesdays, the day his class went to the local pool for swimming lessons.  After a long discussion with the pre-school director on the "consequences" of Jackson pooping in the pool, I could only agree with their decision and promise to do my best before letting him continue with the classes.

The Tuesday night following said discussion I was aware that "Mr. Four Year Old That Doesn't Seem to Care That He Still Is Driving Mom & Dad Crazy With the Potty Training Process" needed a hard lesson and this lesson was coming in the backdoor to clear Mr. Out!!

Five minutes into this very adult decision I felt a regret that I have never felt before in my life. Open to the "medicine" mom was offering, Jackson followed all of mommy's instructions, right up until that suppository was removed from his behind.  At that point began a screaming I have to imagine is reserved for child abuse of the worst degree, followed by an extreme type of kicking I am certain karate instructors can only wish they were able to teach their students.

An hour into this mess, as I sit praying for forgiveness for giving my child this evil poison that has turned him into an evil version of Gage from Pet Sematary, I witness the biggest of big, the largest of large, the most ginormous of gigantic poops I have ever seen one person release from their bodies emerge from my toddler son.  Thrilled this ordeal is over, yet utterly freaked out by what I have witnessed, I breath easily and realize, "I now have the ultimate good behavior bargaining tool just waiting in the bathroom cabinet!"

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

It Must Be Love




My parents have been married for over 40 years now.  I should probably know the exact number but quite frankly it isn’t something we’ve ever celebrated so I’m not sure.  I do know their anniversary date though, December 26th, the day after Christmas.  I know this because as the story is told, apparently they had been dating for quite some time when Dad and she went to his parent’s house for Christmas.  He, being the youngest of four, was tormented by his sisters that day with “why in the world aren’t you married yet,” and “what exactly are you waiting for?”  This led to him romantically taking my mother to the JOP the next day and tying the knot then and there to shut everyone up.  No dress, no flowers, no yummy cake, just a couple of “I do’s” that have lasted for the long haul.

There have been many times I’ve questioned their marriage, and quite frankly wondered how one hasn’t killed the other yet.  My dad is about as stubborn as one person can get and mom lives in world where she seems to hear and see things that no one else ever hears or sees.  Like last week when she reminded me of the time I wanted to drop out of high school and marry my then boyfriend.  Something that I can promise you, never, ever was a consideration in my mind nor a topic discussed until now.

But somehow the two of them have been able to look past the others faults, argue and then let it go, even find a peace in retirement where they are able to share time in the house together without driving each other insane. 

Last month, I got yet another emergency call from home, this time for my mom.  She had what they thought was a bacterial infection that had gotten into her blood stream and from there to her lungs and heart.  She was in ICU and though my dad kept telling me there was no reason to come home, after a phone call to my mom’s nurse I hopped on the very next plane.   It was the nurse that informed me that my mom thought she was dying.  When I asked if the doctor thought she was dying the nurse replied, “she’s real sick honey.”  Three red eye flights later I was in the hospital by her bedside. 

If you read one of my most recent posts you would know that I had just done this trip two months ago for my dad.  Aware that he still wasn’t 100% I knew aside from mom needing me, he too was in need of help.  I had envisioned spending my days at the hospital with mom while dad rested at home.  I was wrong.  That man didn’t miss one set of visiting hours the entire time she was in ICU.  Dead tired, with a headache and zero energy, he drug himself to that hospital room day after day, not listening to a damn word my sister or I said.  It was through this experience that for this first time I realized, they don’t just tolerate each other, they really do love each other.

As she got better and moved out of ICU they began talking about any help she might need when getting home.  Dad couldn’t understand why she would need any help at all.  The therapist explained to him that initially she may need assistance with getting around the house, chores and such.  To this dad informed her, “those things won’t be a problem, I can pull the Coleman grille out of the garage and she can cook dinner from the couch.  The ironing board will fit perfectly by her chair, and if she needs a bath we’ve got a baby pool I can put out in the back yard and turn the hose on.”

Well hell, that's gotta be love!


Monday, July 23, 2012

Margs for Mommy Is Now MOMMY'S JUICE!!


So that Margs for Mommy gal was a TOTAL SLACKER!  Sure she's a full-time working mom of two unruly boys, whose mom and dad both managed to land themselves in the hospital within a month of each other, but none of that is an excuse for letting her blog domain expire.  And as good looking, funny and talented as she may be, can you believe she couldn't figure out how to renew the damn thing!


It is for this reason that I'd like to introduce you to the new Margs for Mommy blog: Mommy's Juice!!  Same  unruly children, same demanding job, same impatient yet unbelievably helpful husband...just with a new look and name!


Where exactly did this new name come from you may ask? It's actually an extension of a trick my Dad pulled on me when I was a kid.  I grew up on soft drinks, which in the South are all called "coke" regardless of what actual beverage you may in fact be drinking.  Dad, being a beer drinker, always kept the fridge full of unusual looking cans which he referred to as "Daddy's Coke."  We were never allowed to drink Daddy's Cokes, which of course only made them that more appealing.  But the consequences of so much as touching a Daddy's Coke were more than any satisfaction of actually trying one would be, leaving my sister and I to only stare at the beautiful red and white cans for years on end.

Like "Daddy's Coke," when I was first asked by my son Jackson what that deep red liquid inside of mommy's dinner glass was I replied, "Mommy's Juice."  "Can I try," he asked.  "Of course you can't sweetie, mommy's juice is only for mommy's and no boys are ever, ever, allowed a taste."  For now, that seems to have worked, as have my answers to "what flavor is mommy's juice."  "Grape honey but only very special grapes that are grown just for mommy's."

And with that I bring you Mommy's Juice, I hope its a tasty treat for many years to come!