Into the Thick of It

Looking for Into the Thick of It?

2008-04-10T14:04:00.000-07:00

Please head over to my spot at on Wordpress: www.intothethickofit.wordpress.com.

Snake cake

2007-11-11T17:28:00.000-08:00

JP helped with decorating the snake- can you tell?

Rocket ship cake

2007-11-09T20:33:00.000-08:00

Mr. Tonks wouldn't let me light the candles for picture taking purposes. It turned out okay, I think, and I'm pretty sure JP will love it.

A new place

2007-07-27T12:51:00.000-07:00

I've been toying with the idea of moving over to Wordpress and finally messed with setting up a blog over there today. The new address is: www.intothethickofit.wordpress.com. Or, you can just click, here. Please change bookmarks and links accordingly. Apologies for any inconveniences.

Happy Friday!

UPDATE: I've fixed the links and they will now take you to the correct spot. Sorry 'bout that!

A song for JP

2007-07-26T06:39:00.000-07:00

JP was singing a song last night. It is, I believe, from a commercial. It goes something like this: Baby you got it, yeah you know you got... It's got a pretty kickin' bass guitar, male voice singing but beyond that I've got nothing. Does anybody know the artist or the commercial of this song?

This is j0lt's fault

2007-07-26T06:15:00.001-07:00

Your Score: Cheezburger cat

67% Affectionate, 56% Excitable, 62% Hungry

Sure, you deserve one. You helped popularized lolcats from a running gag to an online sensation. Now mainstream media writes asinine columns on this 'phenomenon', students write theses on the topic, programming languages adopt the grammar, and losers write tests about them on dating sites. Now take your cheezburger and never touch teh internets again.

To see all possible results, click here.

Which Lolcat Are You? Test

For the record: I don't like cheese and I'm not terribly fond of hamburgers.

Which kitty are you?

A fair point

2007-07-25T19:43:00.001-07:00

My mom approached me today about JP's painted toenails (currently lime green). She's worried that other children will make fun of him, call him a girl, etc. She's got a point and I've worry about that, too. Father's of other children in the neighborhood raise their eyebrows and ask, "How does Mr. Tonks feel about that?" when they see his toes. My answer, "Mr. Tonks knows better than to inflict patriarchal values on our children." Or, "Why did you paint his toes?" My answer, "Was I supposed to tell him no just because he has a penis?" Unfortunately, at 4 1/2, JP can't play the patriarchy card very well and even if he could, chances are the kids teasing him wouldn't know what it meant anyway.

I'm not about to let a patriarchal society influence the way I raise my kids but, still, what's a mom to do?

Spoilers go here

2007-07-23T17:55:00.000-07:00

So, if you've finished reading the final Harry Potter book, feel free to discuss it here.

WARNING: This thread has the potential to contain spoilers.

Thanks, J.K. Rowling

2007-07-22T18:17:00.001-07:00

Thank you for giving a 20-something a taste of what it was like to be a kid again. I looked forward to Harry Potter books with anticipation I've not experienced since I was little and awaiting Christmas or my birthday- something thrilling and wonderful and palpable.

Thank you, for creating books that my husband (not a reader) and I can enjoy together. On numerous car trips we would pass the time discussing where we thought the plot was going, Snape's true allegiance, Harry's fate and lamented that it would be years until the next book came out.

Thank you for creating books that I look forward to sharing with my children that will allow us to discuss otherwise difficult subjects (human nature, right and wrong, love, death) in a way that will make the topics easier for them to grasp.

Thanks for writing in a way so as not to pander, condescend, or otherwise insult the intelligence of your primary audience- children. Kids are smarter than most adults want to give them credit for.

Thanks for creating female characters (Hermione, Tonks, Ginny, Luna) that buck the patriarchy and defied the female archetype that is too often found in children's books and making them likable, cool and admirable.

Thanks for creating Fred and George Weasley- two characters who made me laugh out loud in every book.

I shall miss the Harry Potter books (and the hype) more than I can say but, damn, what a fun ride it's been.

Jell-O doesn't work

2007-07-20T13:07:00.001-07:00

I'm in the middle of trying to get my hair to a shocking pink color. Our grocery store doesn't have sugar free Kool-Aid in the color I want (unless I want to purchase enough to yield several gallons, which I don't) so I called A White Bear and she and I decided that Jell-O (sugar free, of course) might be a viable option.

It's not. While my hair does feel ridiculously good, it is still brown. I started to freak out just a little about 5-minutes into the process because my hair actually started to "set". I was worried that if I left it for a full 30-60 minutes I would be in big, big trouble- as in never-get-a-comb-through-my-hair-ever-again.

SO! The Tonklings and I are going to head up to the beauty supply store to traumatize the woman that works there a little more and I'm going to shell out $4 for a perfect shade of pink.

I can't resist!

2007-07-20T07:43:00.000-07:00

I'm going to a Harry Potter release party this evening. I wasn't planning on dressing up. I was going to resist, pretend to be an adult and go in my everyday street clothes.

No more!!!

Here is a bit the Tonklings and I are headed out to by Mommy some hair dye so that I may dress myself up as (duh) Tonks. I've decided to don pink hair with a violet stripe, ripped jeans, an orange t-shirt and black robe*.

This is going to be fun!**

*My mom, who holds onto things "just in case," still has a Halloween costume I wore in the mid-90's that has a long, black robe.

**Not sure what's going to be more fun. Going to the party or sporting my newly died locks to my in-laws house this evening when we go over to help them move furniture. My in-laws already believe me to be slightly loopy, this will likely clench the decision.

Why do the East Coast bloggers have all the fun?

2007-07-18T19:57:00.000-07:00

I called A White Bear this evening to check on her. While at dinner with my parents, my mother saw news of an explosion in NYC and asked if AWB was alright.

She was, of course. She was on her way to meet Scott Lemieux and then they were off to a party with a bunch of other bloggers.

Surely there has to be some Midwest* bloggers and surely we must be enough fun to have a party of our own. Let's make plans!

*Preferably KC area but I might travel a little.

This makes me sick

2007-07-18T19:50:00.000-07:00

Courtesy of the Chicago Sun-Times:

NFL star Michael Vick was indicted by a federal grand jury Tuesday on charges of sponsoring a dogfighting operation so grisly the losers either died in the pit or sometimes were electrocuted, drowned, hanged or shot.

If that's true, you fucker, I hope you rot in hell. I hope they skip normal prison and send you straight to one of Dick Cheney's houses of horror abroad.

Don't just talk about it, do something

2007-07-17T11:31:00.000-07:00

Before going any further, head on over to Is There No Sin In It and read this post. Once you're done there, meander on over to Bitch PhD to read this post.

Once you're done, if you're outraged and tired of the Bush Administrations' repeated abuse of the law and flagrant disregard for the Constitution, take a few minutes to compose an e-mail. Send it to your state Representative(s) and congress(wo)men.

Not sure who they are or how to contact them? Click here (look in the upper right hand corner of the page) and here.

This country and its government are not going to change the status quo if we only sit around whining. We have to get up, kick and scream and make our voices heard. NOW.

My childhood revisited

2007-07-15T21:12:00.000-07:00

All of the toys I loved during my childhood are making a comeback: Strawberry Shortcake, Transformers*, Care Bears, etc. and the great thing** is that I have my own kids which allows me to play with this stuff all over again! Since we're revisiting the 80's here are a few more characters I'd like to see reappear:

1. Monchihichis
2. Smurfs
3. Rainbow Brite
4. Charmkins
5. Fraggle Rock
6. HeMan
7. Jem
8. Snorks
9. Alvin and the Chipmunks
10. Kissyfur
11. Get Along Gang

I could do this all night but will stop for now and will probably add more later.

What characters would be on your list?

*I remember being very upset one Christmas because I wanted Optimus Prime and instead my cousin got that one.

**Another great thing about being a parent: I can sit at the table and color with my kids and it's okay because I'm spending quality time with them!

Response?

2007-07-13T12:05:00.001-07:00

The following snippet I received in an e-mail from a family member. The e-mail was in response to my comment that Bush is in denial over the Iraq war.

Despite his verbal clumsiness and mistakes, based on his actions that I know of, President Bush is a man of integrity and I appreciate his courage in attempting to bring us to success.

Comments?

Rich white people

2007-07-12T20:51:00.000-07:00

Recently I was elected to the board of directors of a group that is comprised of a lot of rich white people.

I feel completely out of my element because:
1) We are, by no means, rich.
2) I'm the youngest board member by at least 10-15 years.
3) I don't have a "real" job.
4) I don't give a shit about golf.
5) I don't have any affiliations to any organizations (local or national) whatsoever.

I'm still happy to be on the board and hope that I can do a lot of good for the cause but came home from my orientation last night feeling like a fish out of water and wondering what the hell I'd gotten myself into.

For more on rich white people, see this post by our favorite Bear.

July 21

2007-07-11T19:38:00.000-07:00

July 21 is a day that I'm both dreading and looking forward to with great anticipation- it's the day the final Harry Potter book comes out.

I started reading the series out of curiosity, mostly to see what the fuss was about. Instantly I was hooked. I have sucked Mr. Tonks into my curious obsession and we've had numerous discussions about Snape and Horcruxes, foreshadowing and political parallels. A big topic of discussion these last few weeks is who's going to die. For the record I fear it will be Hagrid. Mr. Tonks thinks it'll be Harry (NO!!!).

I've waited for eight-years for this last book but after next weekend I'll have nothing else (Harry Potter-wise) to look forward to and that makes me ridiculously sad.

Best wishes

2007-07-08T16:20:00.000-07:00

...to Cindy Sheehan.

Just one question: can a man who was never actually elected president be impeached?

One request: Impeach Cheney first (what a dick), then go after Bush (a mindless twat).

Other than that, kudos to you! Down with King George and his evil empire!

Fun news

2007-07-05T16:08:00.001-07:00

...for me at least.

We have an internet connection at last!!!

What is that supposed to mean???

2007-06-25T20:40:00.000-07:00

Last week a shockingly orange invitation to my 10-year high school reunion arrived.

I look forward to going. The $54* price tag hurts a bit but I'll be there nonetheless**.

Amid all the information on the invitation, here's what has me puzzled:
Dress attire: SMART CASUAL

Smart casual? What the hell does smart casual mean? I have no idea what kind of clothing we're expected to show up wearing.

*$54 for a cash bar, a "heavy hors d'oeuvres buffet and dancing. I think we're getting fleeced.

**Mr. Tonks will likely stay home. I'd love for him to go but over $100 for us to eat meatballs and dance to bad music seems obscene.

Breastfeeding

2007-06-19T19:57:00.001-07:00

Over at Is There No Sin In It, commenter maitresse made a particularly snarky remark in regards to breastfeeding. My panties are now good and twisted so I'm going to vent about it here.

I don't understand the hubbub over breastfeeding. Really- what's the big deal? Most mothers are discreet about it. They don't let their boobs flop around, their nipples aren't hanging out for everyone to see...they're just feeding their babies!

Having been both a breastfeeding mommy and a bottle feeding mommy I have felt the pressure from all angles. It's a no-win situation when it comes to how you choose to feed your kid.

With JP, physically breastfeeding him wasn't possible. I tried. Every time he'd nurse, I'd end up with an intraductal yeast infection in my breasts. It felt like he was sucking out needles instead of milk. After four rounds of that, I gave up. Since he was a premature (and a winter baby) I felt like it was important for him to have breast milk so I pumped...and pumped...and pumped. He got the beneficial breast milk via a bottle, I didn't have to deal with nasty infections and everyone was happy. At six-months I couldn't keep up with his demand so we very gradually switched to formula.

The problem with that though was that I was (gasp) bottle feeding my baby. I had plenty people looking down their noses at me. What a bad mother! Didn't I know that breast was best! How could I feed my baby like that? Didn't I love him? Didn't I care? Didn't I want him to grow up smart and healthy??? Shame on me!

With SG we started out nursing and had no problems. She was perfectly happy to breastfeed, started refusing a bottle (no matter what was in it) around two-months and self-weaned at 15-months. It was a heck of a lot cheaper than formula and while the first six-months or so were emotionally difficult for me*, the last nine-months of nursing were great. I even remember knowing that she would wean herself soon and feeling pretty sad about it.

The problem with breastfeeding- people look at you like you're filming a porn movie if you have the audacity to do it in public. Have you no decency? What's wrong with a bottle? Can't you go somewhere else to do that? My mother's friend started harping at me when SG was just a few months old that it was time for her to go on a bottle. She didn't need that anymore. As though "that" were a dirty nasty thing.

As much as I hate this argument, breast feeding is natural and the optimial** food for babies. Our bodies start gearing up for it while we're pregnant. For as long as we're willing to do it, our bodies continue to produce milk (usually). Breast feeding isn't gross or dirty. It is what it is: a means to feed a baby. I think it's a shame that there isn't more support for it, particularly where a baby's pediatrician is concerned.

Having said that, JP was in school with a couple kiddos that were exclusively bottle fed as infants (moms talk about this stuff) and, as far as I can tell, they were just as happy, healthy and well adjusted as the kids that got the fresh stuff straight from their mom.

As a mom, you're damned if you do, damned if you don't no matter what you choose. Mothers of other infants are particularly horrid. "Oh, you bottle feed? Mmmm..." "Well wow! You're just going to whip it out and feed him now? Huh..." It's wretched! From where I sit, having endured both sides, I'd like to tell everyone here and now to shut it. How a woman chooses to feed her child is a personal decision. One she probably didn't choose lightly and something that is between her and her baby. If you don't like it, look away, leave, do whatever you need to do but don't stare and, for God's sake, keep your opinions to yourself.

*I was an emotional train wreck after SG was born. That story is a blog in and of itself.

**I really don't like hearing "Breast is best" as though bottle fed babies are somehow neglected or malnourished because they're getting formula. What's best is when mom and baby are happy. Sometimes that means buying cans of formula.

SG's stolen shoes

2007-06-12T19:14:00.000-07:00

I took the kids to the pool for the first time this afternoon. We had a good time splashing and playing. JP, feeling empowered by the presence of a new life jacket, bravely "swam" where he couldn't touch. SG is still my water baby. She has no fear which, of course, scares the daylights out of me. All was good until we went to leave: SG's beloved shoes were gone.

SG loves shoes. The child could happily shoe shop (men's, women's, kids'- doesn't matter) all day. The shoes that were stolen were a darling pair of Carole Little Kids flip flops that I picked up at Marshall's a few months ago. They were pink with pink sequins and pink iridescent beads in the shapes of shells and fish over the top. SG calls them her fish shoes and she wears them every single day. She's even been known to insist on wearing the shoes to bed.

Of course I informed the manager (after looking and re-looking through our things and then asking the woman next to me if she would mind if I looked under her towels), left my name, tried to impress upon them how important these shoes are and carted a confused SG to the parking lot. "Where my feesh shoes, Mama?" She kept asking. "I need my feesh shoes." When we got home she searched all over for her shoes before bursting into tears, completely dismayed that her shoes were nowhere to be found.

Try as I might, I just don't understand why the hell someone stole a two-year olds shoes! I have tried to put myself in the position of not being able to afford shoes for my kid and still, I don't think I could steal from a child. My mother thinks this was some horrible child's idea of a joke. I keep hoping that maybe a little person (like SG) took the shoes and that their parent will turn them into the lost and found.

In the meantime, I'm trying to replace the shoes. SG and I went to three different stores this evening and came back empty handed (with the exception of a couple inexpensive pairs of flip flops from Old Navy which both JP and SG will wear to the pool from now on). I've looked online and found these shoes over at Zappos. They'd work, I think, but replacing a pair of $12 shoes with a pair of $80 shoes is a bitter pill to swallow. Worse still are the tantrum and tears that will come tomorrow when SG goes to get her shoes and remembers that they're gone.

Morbid thoughts update

2007-06-11T19:09:00.000-07:00

I am not, in fact, dead!

Since I'm still feeling the effects of anesthesia and am acutely aware that my "filter" is not quite working the way it should, I'm going to leave it at that for now. Oh, and no pictures of my bloody tooth as it came out in pieces. If begged I might post a shot of the bloody gauze I pull out of my mouth every 10-minutes. It's gross and my 4-year old is mightily impressed.

Morbid thoughts

2007-06-10T21:22:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow afternoon I'm going to an oral surgeon to have a tooth extracted*. It's not a big deal. Really. So why am I thinking horribly morbid thoughts?

From what I gather, they're going to knock me out for the procedure. What if I don't wake-up? Should I write a letter to my kids telling them how much I love them? Is my life insurance paid up for this month? Does Mr. Tonks know that it's okay if he remarries, as long as Wife #2 is good to our children? Do my parents know I appreciate all they've done for me? Should I call my ex-friend and extend an olive branch?** My house could stand a good cleaning...if I die will people think me terribly disorganized and dirty?

I've been under general anesthesia three or four times before and am obviously still here. During those operations I wasn't worried about not waking up. The difference between those times and now is that I have JP and SG and when it's all said and done tomorrow, I want to come home to my babies.

It doesn't help that last week was not a good week. We had to have a new sewer system installed, our backyard is trashed and is now a big mud pit, I twisted my ankle while digging a trench under our deck (for the aforementioned sewer system), I lost a good chunk of the tooth that's coming out tomorrow and I discovered mold growing on the kids' 6-month old swing set. At this point I'm kind of feeling like, "Okay fate! What's next?"***

But, I can at least go into this "surgery" knowing that today was a good day: we slept in, played, went to JP's favorite toy store (no, not Toys 'R Us- bleh), the whole family saw the very excellent Surfs Up and we had a nice dinner with neighbors. This evening I went for a walk with my friend and enjoyed terrific conversation. In a minute I'm going to pop a couple Tylenol PM so I can actually sleep. Tylenol PM sleeps are always good.

So, should I snuff it tomorrow, I went happy. I love my kids and my hubby and life is pretty damn good. If I survive, maybe you'll get to see a nasty picture of a bloody tooth on Wednesday.

Cheers!

*It was either oral surgery or another root canal. The surgery is going to cost us around $140; the root canal would be around $1000. Since it's my back molar and no one will know it's gone, I opted for the cheapest route.
**If I were a better person I just might but I'm not. I saw her face-to-face a few weeks ago and could barely speak. I think I said precisely seven words. Hmm...if I don't die perhaps will discuss that situation.
**Naturally there are dozens and dozens of things worse in life than what I listed in the above paragraph...but it just felt like one thing after another. The Domino Effect of Life, if you will. I should suck it up and deal, no?

Keep 'em in your pants!

2007-06-05T19:04:00.000-07:00

A few months ago while out and about, I noticed something peculiar hanging off the trailer hitch of a Cadillac Escalade. As I neared the gas guzzling monster I realized what I saw was a huge, shiny, chrome scrotum. I saw them again yesterday, this time on an older Chevy truck. Instead of chrome this particular scrotum was a fleshy peach color- complete with veining.

Can someone explain this trend? I visited a website that sells Truck Nuts and the only answer I found was, "Hang 'em if you got a pair!" I'm at a total loss as to why someone thought this was a stellar idea and why anyone would want these fellas hanging off their vehicle. What statement, exactly, does a giant set of nads make? Mr. Tonks inquires as to what has happened to the penis?

These things are so...DUMB!

*sigh*

What's next, women sporting Tire Tits on their cars?

A hearty fuck you to Old Republic Home Warranty

2007-06-02T21:11:00.001-07:00

The title pretty much sums it up.

Fuck you, Old Republic Home Warranty! And your little minions, too.

Fuck you, Casey and Enrique, for being rude, arrogant, twats.

I hope your toilet explodes (whilst you're on it) and you are showered in raw sewage.

Finally!

2007-05-27T11:10:00.000-07:00

...as promised. A more in-depth Barack Obama post.

I've always been puzzled by the way people speak about JFK. Their voices and faces reflect a reverence bordering on awe- a feeling I'd not experienced with regards to a politician, nor did I ever expect to. That's all changed since I saw Obama speak.

We arrived about 30-minutes early and stood a mere 10- or so feet from the entrance of the old Muelbach Hotel. Our proximity to the front doors led us to believe we were all but guaranteed a good spot once inside. I admit that was a pretty dumb notion! People of all shapes, sizes, ages and races lined up behind us on the sidewalk, past the end of the hotel and around the block. We began shuffling inside promptly at 2:00 and at once realized our lofty aspirations of looking Obama square in the eye wouldn't be realized. There were hundreds of people in front of us. I'm guessing some of them had been there, waiting, for several hours. We wound our way through imaginary velvet ropes in the huge lobby. The sheer number of people made the calm, orderly, quiet way in which we moved astonishing. A few people mooed jokingly, some chattered excitedly about the man of the hour but most just shuffled along quietly.

The grand ballroom was opened to its full size. A press platform was stationed in the middle, platforms with chairs on the sides. We found a place a few feet in front of the press- a fine spot, especially when you consider that people overflowed into the hall- but it was standing room only and an inordinate number of tall people were standing between us and the stage, forcing yours truly to stand on her tiptoes with neck craned in order to see. While waiting we were treated to a wide selection of music. Two weeks ago I could've recalled the songs and artists. Now I can only tell you that if Obama played any part at all in the selection he has excellent taste.

Obama emerged onstage after a few words from a man I didn't recognize (probably in the Missouri government), the reading of a letter to Obama from an 11-year old girl and a sweet rendition of the National Anthem sung by a couple (cute) gradeschoolers. He was dressed in what has become his signature style- khakis, an open collard white shirt and navy blue blazer. He's tall- much taller than I expected- and his eyes sparkle when he speaks. His conviction and enthusiasm is not limited to his voice but shows in his whole body. He walks on stage with purpose and a sense of urgency.

The content of his speech was exactly what you would expect of a person seeking to win the Democratic nomination: he denounced the war in Iraq, lambasted Bush for his "efforts" in New Orleans, blasted the administration for the deplorable treatment of Veterans, encouraged efforts to make this country more environmentally conscious and reduce our dependence on foreign oil, pointed out that the No Child Left Behind Act is little more than pointless rhetoric, Darfur, health care (or the lack thereof). Those aren't the point, not really. The point is that Mr. Tonks and I believed him. We believed that he wanted to make this country better than it is. Better than it has been for a long, long time.

I want so badly to believe in Obama. So, so, so badly. As of yet, he's not let me down. His speech in Detroit didn't go over so well...good. McCain is ripping him because he didn't vote for that ridiculously lame Iraq withdrawal bill. Good. Good. Good. Good. Maybe, just maybe, there is a politician out there that can actually stick to his (or her) convictions. At least I hope so. My God I hope so. For once I would like to feel good about being an American- instead of feeling the need to apologize for it and if Obama is half the man he appears to be, that might actually happen in the near future. Right now I believe he could be the next Truman or the next JFK or the great president that this country desperately needs.

Barack Obama- short version

2007-05-12T19:19:00.000-07:00

I went and it was awesome. No, I didn't meet him but I did get within eight or so feet of him. Yeah! Pictures and details will come soon.

Variety

2007-05-10T19:27:00.000-07:00

Lots of stuff on my mind and not a heck of a lot of time to devote to several posts so here's a jumble of my thoughts:

Mrs. Lucas
I received word today that one of my very favorite high school teachers died yesterday morning. This is bewildering beyond words (she should've outlived us all) and I find myself monumentally saddened by the loss. She was a fantastic honors English teacher (I compared every professor to her and only one met the Mrs. Lucas Standard), a strong woman and just a really wonderful person.

My children
...are driving me up the wall. Summer will officially start at our house on Tuesday and I'm just not ready for it. If JP and SG don't kill each other before September it will be no small miracle.

Emergency room visits?
It's also no small miracle that we haven't been frequenting the hospital. JP bashed his chin with a drawer and is sporting a goatee looking scab. SG did a face plant into the sidewalk and damn near broke her nose. Yesterday JP tried to surf on his firetruck and split his leg open when he fell (smallish cuts, minor bruising) then SG tripped and fell over the same firetruck about two-minutes after I got him calm. I have an unsettling feeling that one of my little monkeys is going to need an ER visit and it's going to be for something ugly.

The Royals
No, not the Queen. We went to a KC Royals game on Tuesday night and saw, firsthand (11 rows from the 3rd base line), just how much they suck. Come on, guys! We're trying to believe!

Things that are lost that I'd really like to find
1) The battery charger for our camera.
2) The battery for our old camera (I can find the charger).
3) My favorite ring (small gold band with tiny but exquisite diamonds).

Zoie
My dog is still far too furry and far too smelly.

Barack Obama
The rally is two-days away. I might wet my pants I'm so excited.

Weight
I've started losing weight finally. It feels good. I'm guessing I only have a few more pounds to go to get where I was this time last year. That may take a few more weeks as I'm shoveling a lime custard sundae down my throat while I type.

A third?
A friend wants to buy our crib mattress but I'm reluctant to make the deal. The debate rages in my head: do I want another baby*?

Sleep
I need to get some.

*Mr. Tonks, I'm fairly certain, would say he's 90% sure he doesn't want another child. I'm on the fence.

Narf

2007-05-08T20:33:00.000-07:00

Apologies for the title of the post. Every time I think of what's whirling around my brain that's the first "word" that comes to mind.

Ever since I had SG (not quite 27-months ago) I've been off hormonally- mood swings, tiredness, general emotional funkiness. It's hard to explain. When she was around six-months old (after a particularly disproportionate breakdown at the doctor's office) I was put on Zoloft for postpartum depression. It helped a lot and I figured that by the time I weaned SG, I'd be ready to wean myself from the medicine.

Not so much.

Fast forward to today. When I had the miscarriage in December everything, and I mean everything, got all kinds of nutty. I gained weight that is just now starting to come off. I started lactating again which has only recently (as in the last week) started to calm down*. My cycle went ballistic. My body went haywire but I'm starting to get back to normal- almost. The things that aren't abating are my moodiness right before my period and my exhaustion level.

A friend suggested that I have my estrogen and progesterone levels tested. I'm wondering, though, if anyone else has dealt with a similar situation and, if so, what did you do? Our insurance sucks so I'm hesitant to do anything that's going to result in serious bills (especially since we just got out of debt) but I'm really sick and tired of being moody and tired.

See what I mean?

Narf.

*Anytime SG started to cry (real crying, not a tantrum) I would have a let-down. Nothing huge or noticeable to anyone but me, just a little leakage and it drove me crazy!

Vet vexation

2007-05-04T18:53:00.000-07:00

I'm completely irritated with Zoie's vet.

Mr. Tonks took the little furball in this morning for a grooming appointment. He returned home with her about 20-minutes later. She was still stinky and overly furry.

Our vet insisted that she be given a bordetella shot, a fecal test and something else (can't remember what). That'd be fine- had all of it not be done eight or so months ago. Mr. Tonks and I refused to go-ahead with any of it so they refused to groom her.

Had they given us a definitive reason as to why (other than a very pithy, "It's for the health and well-being of your dog."), I might have considered it. All of my research on the subject tells me that it's not necessary more than once a year so why should a $35 groom turn into a $200 visit? I kind of started to feel like I was being taken.

She's still funky which means that this weekend I'll have to bathe her, cut her nails and cut her hair. The last time I did that the poor dog skulked around the house for days afterward because I did such a terrible job, unintentionally of course, but terrible nonetheless. Truly, it was awful. My neighbor, upon seeing the dog, said, "Did JP do that?"

Maybe if I let JP do the trimming she'd look better.

Does Baskin Robbins know this?

2007-05-02T18:26:00.000-07:00

Last Friday we took JP and SG to Baskin Robbins to have ice cream with JP's buddy, Sophie. We all had something different but Sophie opted for an electric blue raspberry sherbet (I think that was the flavor) concoction. Sunday evening I received an e-mail from Sophie's mom that read:

Tonight before falling to sleep Sophie had a #2 in her diaper. I changed it as usual but was totally taken by surprise because her poo was bright, and I mean bright, electric blue-green!! I was like what the &*^%,and then I remembered her blinding blue ice cream from the other night!! I had a flashback of her bright blue mouth and face and then it all made sense!

Yesterday several of the neighborhood kiddos and their moms ended up at our house where we were discussing the blue poop. Lo and behold another mom experienced the exact same thing with her little girl.

So, if anyone feels up for an experiment, go to Baskin Robbins. Get a scoop of the blue stuff (you can't possibly miss it), eat it and see what happens a few days later.

By the way, this evening is "Scoop Night" and you can get an ice cream cone for less than a nickel.

Excitement

2007-05-02T18:20:00.000-07:00

On May 12 Mr. Tonks and I are going to hear Barack Obama speak at a rally in town. I'm beside myself with excitement. Will I get to shake his hand? Get an autograph?? Perhaps, just maybe, get a picture taken with him??? My head might just explode if the latter happens.

Ten more days...

Meatloaf

2007-05-01T20:02:00.000-07:00

Over at Unfogged the discussion thread to this post mentions meatloaf several times.

I make a mean meatloaf. It's seriously good stuff. I'm always surprised, though, when people turn their nose up at the mere mention of meatloaf. Clearly, they've been served a greasy flavorless lump sometime in their past. Here's how to make a good meatloaf:

1 lb. ground turkey*
1 med. onion, chopped
1 egg
1 packet Lipton's Onion Soup mix
1/2 cup (more or less to taste) Heinz 57 sauce
1/2 cup+ breadcrumbs (I like to use seasoned)
Ketchup

Preheat oven to 375.

Mix egg, onion, soup mix and 57 sauce in a bowl. Plop ground turkey in and mix well. I find the only really effective way to do this is to use your hands. Ew, I know, but one must sacrifice for a good meatloaf. Once it's all mixed up, add the breadcrumbs. Add enough that the mixture will hold a loaf form.

Instead of using a loaf pan for cooking, I use a silicon jumbo cupcake pan. Individual loafs not only look nifty on a plate, it ensures that the meat will cook evenly. Fill each cup about 3/4 full with the meatloaf mixture. Squiggle ketchup onto each mini loaf. Bake for around 45 minutes.

I serve with green beans and roasted red potatoes (I quarter the potatoes, toss with a tablespoon or so of olive oil and sprinkle with sea salt).

*Using the ground turkey means that the meatloaf is virtually greaseless but, if you must use ground beef, try half turkey, half beef. If you insist upon only using ground beef use one that's at least 90/10 in terms of fat content. Less is preferable. To help soak up the grease, line the bottom of the pan with one or two pieces of bread. The bread will absorb the grease. Be sure to cut the bread off the pieces before serving. No one wants to eat straight fat.

Pica

2007-04-30T13:22:00.000-07:00

Does anybody out there know anything about Pica in dogs? I am in need of some advice, firsthand if possible.

Zoie has always been one to eat things she shouldn't but in the last few months she'd gotten better about it (attempt at eating the ant bait excluded). It seems, though, that the Pica is back with a vengeance. Other than eating through a plastic bag, she's resumed her habit of eating sticks, squirrel/ rabbit poo, dirty tissues (which she gets off the bed stand in the middle of the night) and God only knows what else. Less than an hour ago I caught her up to her eyeballs eating dirt out of one of my potted plants. She was gorging herself like it was prime rib.

I love Zoie, I do, but this has got to stop. Apart from being completely vile, it's also dangerous (what if a stick gets lodged in her throat?) and more of a headache than I can manage.

Help, bloggers!

Damn dog

2007-04-28T20:16:00.000-07:00

This evening Mr. Tonks went to the grocery store, picked-up a few staples, ran to the gas station, went inside briefly and then came home. The dog went with him because she loves to ride in the car.

While Mr. Tonks was in the gas station (for all of two or three minutes) our little (10 lbs., max) freak of nature dog consumed half a loaf 0f bread*.

She's now lying on the floor, bloated and looking totally miserable.

Damn dog.

*I presume she also consumed some of the plastic bag that the bread was in. We can only cross our fingers and hope she doesn't die or need surgery.

Bad mama update

2007-04-26T21:17:00.000-07:00

Today was much, much better. We got out of the house, bought some flowers, had some laughs. Life was good and back to normal.

Not a good day

2007-04-25T18:36:00.000-07:00

Today was not a good day.

I just deleted a lengthy, not very entertaining explanation as to why. The why can be summed up in three words: cranky tired mama.

I hate days like today. They're long and drag on forever. My irritation increases as the time progresses. My fuse is short. I'm not a hell of a lot of fun*. But most of all, I don't enjoy my kids.

The guilt I feel is tremendous. They're just being kids and, in all likelihood, if I would've quit wallowing in my funk and made more of an effort to have fun and engage them, we probably would've had a moderately better day.

I know a woman who's daughter died at the age of three. Three-years old and she was gone forever. When I reflect on days like today I can't help but think of Lauren. Her mother would give her soul to have that little girl back- long, irritating days notwithstanding. After days like today, when I've had time to decompress and breathe, I feel like I've wasted a gift.

Tomorrow we get to start fresh. I'll be a better Mama. I'll make sure we have a better day.

*I wasn't Mommy Dearest but I certainly wasn't Donna Reed. My back and neck are killing me and I'm seriously sleep deprived.

Inane conversation

2007-04-25T18:33:00.000-07:00

I spent about 20-minutes this morning trying to find copies of a couple books that I’d like to read to JP’s class tomorrow. After first trying the two independent and local bookstores I started to call the big box stores. The conversation with a “bookseller” at Barnes and Noble had me wanting to bang my head against the wall:

Tonks: Hi, do you have a copy of “Diary of a Wombat” in stock?

Bookseller: Let me check. Do you spell ‘wombat’ with two t’s?

T: No, one.

BS: Okay. Hmm. I don’t see anything for “Diary of a Wombat”. Wait, let me try something else.

(sound of keyboard tapping)

BS: Are you sure it’s called “Diary of a Wombat?”

T: Yes.

BS: Weeelll (long pause) I don’t see anything by that title.

T: Okay, thanks.

BS: Wait, how do you spell ‘wombat’?

T: (repressing an annoyed sigh) W-O-M-B-A-T

BS: Oh, I was spelling it w-a-m-b-a-t (laughs).

T: (brief, polite laughter followed by silence)

BS: Here it is! Gosh, these computers are so picky.

And wouldn’t you know, they didn’t have it in stock.

It's not that hard!

2007-04-24T05:59:00.000-07:00

I am inept and, maybe, just a little bit dumb.

Right now I'm "taking a break" from attempting to cover a plate of lemon squares with plastic wrap. I've gone through three pieces so far and none of them are sticking. Nothing like a piece of plastic to make you feel like a total moron.

Shit.

I'm getting the tape.

Gross day

2007-04-22T20:05:00.000-07:00

Yucky thing #1
This morning the kids were outside playing and JP found a snake. He was playing with a huge, heavy pipe* on a pile of rocks at the back of our yard and when the Garter snake slithered out, JP got excited and dropped the aforementioned pipe. Right on the poor snake's head. Unfortunately, the pipe crushed the snake's skull but didn't entirely kill it. Mr. Tonks got the shovel and finished the poor guy off. I used the same shovel to dig a hole and carry the snake to his final resting place**. A brick is on top of the snake's grave and JP has been given extremely specific instructions not to dig it up.

Yucky thing #2
This afternoon, while my in-laws were over, I caught the dog outside with something in her mouth and looking particularly pleased with herself. Zoie has a tendency to eat sticks (she has pica so she'll actually eat just about anything) and that's what I expected to find- a half-eaten stick. Imagine my surprise when I pulled out what we presume to be the lower jaw bone of a cat. Any bets on what skeletal remain we find next?

*Our house was built in the 1940's and, for reasons I don't understand, there are two huge pipes (each around eight-feet long) in our yard and other smaller pipes buried in the ground behind our fence row. We'd throw it away but the trash guys won't take anything over four-feet long and we don't own a tool that will cut through 1/4" thick galvanized pipe.

**While carrying the snake to his grave, JP requested to hold it. I said no (it was fairly bloody). Then he said, "How 'bout I just hold its little head? I'll be gentle."

My sweet boy

2007-04-21T20:56:00.000-07:00

I was listening to an NPR story about Darfur this afternoon. A soundbite of President Bush issuing empty threats to the Sudanese government left me feeling enraged. "What are you going to do?" I shouted at the radio, temporarily forgetting that JP was tagging along during my Target run. He asked why I was shouting and who was I shouting at. I explained to him that I was frustrated, that our president wasn't very good and that there are people in Africa who need our help but the president wasn't doing anything for them. He became quiet and I could tell that the wheels in his head were turning. Suddenly his eyes brightened and he said happily, "I have an idea! I know what could help the people in Africa! Superman! I bet if we asked him he'd swoop right in and help all those people." I didn't have the heart to squelch his triumph so I just said, "I think you're right buddy."

Sad, isn't it, when a four-year old's plan to end the genocide seems more attainable (and more likely to happen) than the hollow rhetoric of this administration.

Kicky new sunglasses

2007-04-19T20:16:00.000-07:00

I think these are my most favorite sunglasses ever. It's hard to tell but they have sparkly multi-colored rhinestones on the sides. I have kind of a small head and it was suggested I try kids sunglasses. Hooray for Nordstroms! Cute sunglasses that fit for $10! Woo-hoo!

Not in my house

2007-04-18T18:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday JP said something that didn't sit well with me. I can't remember what, exactly, but it was a derogatory statement about girls. I asked him if he realized that Mommy was a girl and would he like it if someone talked that way about me? He responded with quiet but dismissive, "no."

Hmm...what's a mom to do when trying to teach her 4-year old how not to be a misogynistic twit? Well, this mom uses slightly empty* threats.

I told him that if he continues to put girls down because they're girls he's going to learn what it's like to be a girl. I'm going to make him wear a dress to school.

It must've had at least some effect because today, while chatting with a neighbor, I asked JP what will happen if he's not kind to the girls at school. His response: "Mom's gonna make me wear one of Lindsey's [my friend's daughter] dresses."

*I realize that this gender bias bullshit is because of his age. He's starting to see differences between boys and girls, is learning how to play with more than one friend, etc. Will I really make him wear a dress to school...probably not. Unless he gets really bad. Then I absolutely will.

It came back to bite me

2007-04-11T20:29:00.000-07:00

This time last week I was whining about my allergies.

This week my allergies are much better, thank you, but the weather fucking sucks! It's cold. And rainy. And windy. The beautiful flowers that were starting to bud and bloom are dead. Even those that have been covered and protected have succumbed to below freezing temperatures in the evening. The Easter Egg Hunt at my parents' house on Sunday was cut short because it was so stinking cold. JP and SG were dressed for a trek up Everest- no cute spring outfits this year. The worse part? Snow has worked its way into the forecast. Shit. If it's not Christmas I have no use for snow!

*sigh*

Who knew that I'd be whining because my nose isn't runny?

Come back, Spring!

Happy day

2007-04-06T18:29:00.000-07:00

Mr. Tonks, as I type, is en route to the Apple Store to buy an iMac.

I'm nearly as excited as I was the day we brought JP* home. I will finally be the proud owner of a Mac!!!

Now if I could just get rid of the buyer's remorse...

*Not that I wasn't just as excited to bring SG home- I was- but JP was premature and had to spend some extra time in the hospital so his homecoming was also a huge relief.

Long time, long week

2007-04-04T19:54:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow Mr. Tonks and I will have been a couple for nine-years. Our seventh wedding anniversary is a couple months away.

It sounds like a long time.

It is a long time.

We've been spatting for the last couple days so there probably won't be much in the way of celebrating. I'm feeling irritated and put-out. I don't particularly like him very much right now. Love him, yes. Still, I'd kind of like to kick him in the shins.

My frustration with him spills over onto the children which isn't fair. My already short fuse gets pushed to the limit by two little people who seem to be determined to tick each other off.

*sigh*

This has not been a good week. Is it over yet?

'Tis the Season

2007-04-02T18:19:00.000-07:00

I have been hoping and praying for Spring to get here and now it has arrived in full force in all its glory, with green grass, blooming flowers, budding trees and the need to be outside as much as humanly possible. Glorious!

What is not so fantastic is the runny nose, watery, itchy eyes, sore throat and the feeling that I've been smacked upside the head by a gigantic peony teeming with pollen.

Pre- JP and SG I would've stayed inside as much as possible until Memorial Day. Now, with two kiddos who start begging to go outside almost as soon as they've finished their chocolate milk, being a Spring hermit ain't an option. Plus, I finally have a house I love with a yard that is begging for some TLC. I want to be outside gardening and playing in the dirt! My head is spinning with all my landscaping plans, container recipes and trying to figure out what cool thing I'm going to do with my nifty solar powered, color changing, bubble lights.

*sigh*

There is no point to this post. None at all. You'll notice the label distinctly reads WHINING and nothing else. I've got about four more years of allergy shots before I'm done with Springtime Sneezes (at least this is what they tell me).

Right now, I need to go blow my nose.

I'm the Mama

2007-03-31T19:00:00.000-07:00

Dammit!

This evening I was talking to my mom. Early in the day she called me on my cell phone while JP and I were stranded* at Costco in a not great (not terrible) part of town. Truthfully, I wouldn't go there at night by myself but during the day it's fine.

Apparently she told my father what I had done who informed her to tell me that he didn't want me taking the kids to "that part of town."

Let's refresh:
1. I'm the Mama
2. I spent 53 hours in labor with JP and four with SG. I have earned the right to take them anywhere I damn well choose.
3. I'm not reckless, stupid or prone to endangering the kids' welfare.
4. I'm 28-years old, own my own home, car and haven't lived with my parents for nearly seven-years. I haven't killed myself or burned the house down. I have, I admit, wrecked many cars**.
5. I'M THE MAMA!!!

I got a little huffy about the lecture and told my mother to remind my father of the above points (not all of them but the general gist) and further reminded her that JP and SG were my children, therefore his opinion on where they did or didn't go wasn't any of his business.

Now she's huffy with me, will probably tell my father about our conversation and he'll get his skivvies in a twist. Next time I see him, I'll get a lecture. In front of my kids.

It's not like this is the first time that this has happened. It happens a lot, usually over little stuff- reminding me to dress the kids warmly, not to go out because the roads are slick, put sunscreen on, etc.

Once again, I have never, ever not taken care of my children! They're always dressed weather appropriate in very cute clothes*** when we go out. They always get fed. They each ride in very safe, very expensive car seats. Child Protective Services has never come to my home (nor will they ever need to). I have never lost or injured one of my children due to negligence. I'm a good mom! Not perfect, maybe not even great but I love my kids more than anything.

I love my parents, too, and I know they mean well but I don't appreciate being second-guessed all the time.

Will I ever truly be a grown-up? Is this because I'm an only child? Worse still, will I do this to my kids when they have kids?

*I was in Mr. Tonks' car and decided to buy an outdoor storage box. It wouldn't fit in his little car so I had to have him come with my larger car so we could get the dang thing home.

**I have totaled three cars. In an 18-month period. The two big ugly accidents were not my fault (truly) and I still maintain that the last car committed suicide by drowning. All three accidents were pre, pre- JP and SG. However I have never lived any of them down.

***They usually look cute. Sometimes the dress themselves (or, in SG's case, insist on certain items) in the same sweet clothes but in more interesting ensembles.

Tonks: 1, Ice cream sandwich: 0

2007-03-27T20:58:00.000-07:00

Ha!

I think I have mentioned before that I'd very much like to lose some weight. Between the hoopla of moving, the holidays and miscarriage I've added some extra padding in the last six-months. Ten to 15-pounds of padding. Not a lot, except I'm only 5'3" and normally weigh under 120-lbs.

I've been working out every Tuesday and Thursday for the last two months, walking occasionally and even tried yoga, but haven't been being very mindful of the crap I'm putting in my mouth. I'm a sucker for candy, cookies and all sorts of goodies that only contribute to the chubs.

I'm tired of being fluffy and ready to get back to normal. I'm throwing down the gauntlet. I've got two-months or so before swimsuit season and, dammit, I'm not going to the pool looking the way I do right now*.

This evening I got into the freezer for some ice and saw and Klondike Bar sitting there, calling to me, practically begging to be eaten. I'm a sucker for ice cream, too.

BUT, I practiced self-control and restraint and didn't eat the Klondike Bar! I stared at it as if daring it to jump out of its wrapper and into my mouth before I forced myself to read the label. For reasons I don't understand, finding out that something has trans fat causes the food to lose all appeal. Klondike Bars, by some miracle, contain trans fat.

It feels good, like I've done something stupendous. Instead of throwing away the hour-long ass kicking I had this evening I, just maybe, benefited from it. Woo-hoo!

*Here's the deal: I'm a perfectly healthy weight (as far as I can tell- I don't weigh myself) but I'm not comfortable in my own skin right now. Plus, my height and bone structure mean I don't carry excess weight well at all.

I almost killed the dog (seriously)

2007-03-26T20:24:00.000-07:00

Zoie came dangerously close to entering that great dog house in the sky today.

We have been having some ant issues (due to the all the rain) so Mr. Tonks and I placed a couple baits outside- one behind a large, potted plant and one on the outside ledge of the kitchen window.

I let our Wonder Mutt outside this morning and after several minutes I realized she was being unusually quiet and well-behaved* so I went out to check on her. I found our tiny dog happily munching on the ant trap that had, apparently, fallen off the windowsill.

I called the vet whose receptionist called to his assistant who uttered a very discouraging, "Oh God. Oh no. She needs to get here now."

En route the necessary phone calls were made (Mr. Tonks, my parents**), prayers were uttered, truthful explanations were given to four-year old JP who knew something was up and I experienced my first nosebleed which I blame on stress and humidity.

Long story, slightly short, Zoie didn't actually get to the bait inside the trap and she lives. Hooray! My gross little dog drives me crazy. I threaten, a lot, to strangle her, ship her to A White Bear, etc. but I love her almost as much as I love my kids.

I'm relieved beyond words. The ant traps are gone. The dog is alive. All is well.

*Zoie is a total butt outside. She eats sticks, rolls in unidentifiable stuff on the ground and barks at every damn thing she sees/ hears/ or smells.

**My parents were called to come pick-up the kids because I feared Zoie was a goner and I didn't want them to see that.

5 Questions part II

2007-03-26T18:50:00.000-07:00

See this post for info regarding 5 Questions.

From CharleyCarp
1. How did you choose your undergraduate major?
My first major was my first love: theatre. My second major, after I left theatre*, was journalism. I don't love it but I'm damn good at it.

2. You've won a month-long vacation, half with the kids, half without. Where do you go (you don't have to be in a single place for the whole time, but you only get one plane round trip)?
I'm assuming money is no object so I'm going all out. We start in Australia with the kiddos. I'd take them to Australia Zoo, the outback and the Great Barrier Reef. We'd head to New Zealand for a week or so to explore, hike and raft (again, with the kids). The time spent in Australia and New Zealand would probably take the whole portion of the kids' vacation with us. Once they were safely in the care of my parents, Mary Poppins or Super Nanny* Mr. Tonks and I would spend a blissful five-days doing nothing on a beach in Tahiti. We'd spend a couple days doing Tahitian-type activities and then we'd go to Fiji and spend a few more days basking. We'd rip ourselves away from paradise a few days early to come back to reality so we could spend a couple days at home, alone, to recover from our jet-lag.

3. You're going to visit a friend in NYC for a long weekend (sans entourage) and pick up a copy of the paper to see what entertainment is in town: what is the most pleasing surprise?
A whole weekend with A White Bear? Woo-hoo! I don't know where to begin! A terrific Broadway musical, for starters (not Grease, The Sound of Music, Bye Bye Birdie or any other show I don't like). Beyond that, I'd let AWB take the reigns and follow her lead. I'd would like it, however, if she threw one of her famous parties and made me sorbet. I love her sorbet!

4. You can go back in time to 9th grade: what do you change generally, and what specifically with regard to school sports?
I don't change a thing, generally. As far as school sports go...I didn't do sports- at least not through high school. With the activities I did do, I would prep harder for a couple auditions my freshman and sophomore years, I would've bowed out of debate* my sophomore year before the season ever started. I would've campaigned harder to be the managing editor of the school paper my senior year (I didn't get the title but I got many of the duties in addition to my own section's). I would've thumbed my nose at my parents and gotten scholarships so I could go to the school I wanted to go to.

5. You can go back in time to the 19th century, any location and time, but you have to be a member of the same social class you are in now, and have to stay a whole year. Where do you go, and what work do you do (you may switch gender for the year, if you want)?
Can I just not go? I have no desire to be a man and being a woman in the 19th century in the middle class (no matter the locale) just doesn't sound like my idea of fun.

*I loved debate and I was good at it (state ranked my freshman year). The problem was that I didn't want to devote my life to it, I wanted to spend more time in the theatre and journalism departments. This ticked my coach off to no end and she stuck me with a horrific partner and we didn't even make it to a single tourney. A miserable experience that wasn't worth the effort.

I love monkeys

2007-03-24T19:57:00.000-07:00

The Monkey Story*

I like monkeys.

The pet store was selling them for 5¢ a piece. I thought that odd since they were normally a couple thousand each. I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. I bought 200. I like monkeys.

I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car. I let one drive. His name was Sigmund. He was retarded. In fact, none of them were really bright. They kept punching themselves in their genitals. I laughed. Then they punched my genitals. I stopped laughing.

I herded them into my room. They didn't adapt very well to their new environment. They would screech, hurl themselves off of the couch at high speeds and slam into the wall. Although humorous at first, the spectacle lost its novelty halfway into its third hour.

Two hours later I found out why all the monkeys were so inexpensive: they all died. No apparent reason. They all just sorta' dropped dead. Kinda' like when you buy a goldfish and it dies five hours later. Damn cheap monkeys.

I didn't know what to do. There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my room, on the bed, in the dresser, hanging from my bookcase. It looked like I had 200 throw rugs.

I tried to flush one down the toilet. It didn't work. It got stuck. Then I had one dead, wet monkey and 199 dead, dry monkeys.

I tried pretending that they were just stuffed animals. That worked for a while, that is until they began to decompose. It started to smell real bad.

I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in the toilet and I didn't want to call the plumber. I was embarrassed.

I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them. Unfortunately there was only enough room for two monkeys at a time so I had to change them every 30 seconds. I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so it didn't all go bad.

I tried burning them. Little did I know my bed was flammable. I had to extinguish the fire.

Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen monkeys in my freezer, and 197 dead, charred monkeys in a pile on my bed. The odor wasn't improving.

I became agitated at my inability to dispose of my monkeys and to use the bathroom. I severely beat one of my monkeys. I felt better.

I tried throwing them way but the garbage man said that the city wasn't allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him that I had a wet one. He couldn't take that one either. I didn't bother asking about the frozen ones.

I finally arrived at a solution. I gave them out as Christmas gifts. My friends didn't know quite what to say. They pretended that they like them but I could tell they were lying. Ingrates. So I punched them in the genitals.

I like monkeys.

*I came across this story my junior year of high school. I have no idea who wrote it.

If there's nothing to hide

2007-03-21T05:31:00.000-07:00

...why so secretive?

Do you suppose Bush and Cheney can feel the noose tighten around their necks?

Hell no!

2007-03-20T20:30:00.000-07:00

For future reference, you will never catch me here.

Five Questions

2007-03-17T18:38:00.000-07:00

Via Belledame...

Here's the scoop:
Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."I respond by asking you five personal questions so I can get to know you better. If I already know you well, expect the questions may be a little more intimate!You WILL update your journal/bloggy thing/whatever with the answers to the questions.You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the post.When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Here are Belle's questions for yours truly:

1) If you weren't "Tonks," which literary character would you name yourself after?
Hmm...there are many but I think I'm going to go with Ibsen. I identify with his characters Nora (going from my father's house to my husband's, so to speak) and Hedda (her self destructiveness).

Other contenders: Darcy (I like to think I'm a bit like Elizabeth) and Anne for Anne of Green Gables. My very favorite book in the world.

2) How did you meet AWB?
A White Bear and I met about 15-years ago in middle school French class. She says I called her a bitch and it changed her life. We didn't like each other much back then. We were thrown together again in our high school theatre department and she quickly became one of my favorite people. Now she is JP and SG's favorite "aunt" and I practically count the days between her biannual visits.

3) What's the most beautiful language in the world?
I love French. It's smooth, lovely and even makes fights sound elegant.

4) Did you want brothers and sisters as a kid?
Yes. Being an only child sucks. I would go through catalogues and mark the babies, begging my mother for a brother or sister. In an ideal world I would've had an older brother and younger sister. The older I get the more I wish I had a sibling. It's hard to be an only child (married to a fellow only child) when your parents begin to age.

5) What's a typical day's menu look like at your place?
Breakfast: Carnation Instant Breakfast (chocolate) for everyone.

Lunch: Turkey dogs for me and the kids or (and this has been happening a lot lately) the kids opt for ham and turkey roll-ups* and I drink Carnation Instant Breakfast.

Dinner: Just about anything goes. I cook with red meat about once a year (if that) so there is a lot of chicken and turkey (ground, sausage, etc.) eaten at our house. I make really good ribs, baked beans and cheesy corn. My mac and cheese doesn't come from a box. I've successfully transitioned to whole grain pastas but still don't love brown rice. I prefer fresh veggies but will use frozen. I avoid canned unless I'm using corn or beets.

Snacks: Fruit, yogurt, crackers, I love pretzel chips, the kids love fruit snacks. Ooh, a yummy snack tip: popcorn, lightly sprayed with Smart Balance Buttery Burst Spray and sprinkled with Penzey's Taco Seasoning. Yum.

*Deli sliced turkey and ham wrapped around a stick of string cheese. JP refers to this as a "harvest lunch." I don't know why...

Anyone else want to play?

Poop

2007-03-17T10:15:00.000-07:00

Our next door neighbors have two large black labs. For reasons I don't understand the prefer letting the dogs go to the small front yard to poop as opposed to their large backyard. The stinky bombs sit there, undisturbed, for weeks on end. They look nasty but smell is worse.

The husband (we'll call him Bob) used to turn a blind eye while the dogs did their business in our adjoining side yard. Until one day last fall when I happened to catch the dogs and Bob in the act, activated my car's panic button, and watched in satisfaction as the dogs tore off toward their owner and Bob's cell phone conversation was cut short.

That was a good day. Now the dogs stay in their yard to cop a squat (this makes me happy) but the poop remains.

Many of our neighbors walk, spend time in their yard, and are outside often. Everyone comments to us about the Poop Yard- as though we have control over it. On warm days or when the wind blows from the North the smell is atrocious. The Poop Yard's aroma drifts and can be smelled from three or four houses away. Gross.

What to do? Bob and his wife seem like nice enough people*, they're DINKS** so they're not home all that often. Aside from the poop their yard is well kept but the smell drives the rest of the neighborhood crazy. Do we ask them nicely to do something about the poop? Go over when they're not there and clean it up? Wear face masks while outside and hope they take a hint? Leave an anonymous note?

Down with the poop!

*I say they're nice enough people BUT shortly after moving in I went over there to ask a question and was horrified to see a hardbound copy of Ann Coulter's book on the sideboard.

**Double Income No Kids

It's Foreign Language Day!

2007-03-12T21:36:00.000-07:00

Comment accordingly. All languages accepted- even Pig Latin.

Starting...

Maitenant!

Speaking American

2007-03-12T20:06:00.000-07:00

The whole debate over whether or not to make English the "official" language of various cities, the US, etc. annoys me. Do people really believe that we're going to wake up one morning and suddenly be required to speak Spanish? Or French? Perhaps Mandarin? Maybe Latin will make a resurgence...

I digress.

What irks me more than anything are the soundbites played in the media of people saying, "If they're gonna live here then they better learn to speak English!" or, "This is 'Merica. They need to speak 'Merican!"

I've traveled a fair amount overseas and am always struck by Americans' brazenness (and sometimes downright rude behavior) when it comes to speaking a foreign language in a foreign country. I'll never forget standing in a store in Paris while a woman very loudly and crudely asked the proprietor, "Parlay vouse Englaze?" When the man ignored her, she persisted, this time in her native tongue, "Do you speak English?" He continued to ignore her (rightly so) until she left the store. Such behavior was not an isolated case. The same people who insist that English should be spoken here because, dammit, this is America, won't be bothered to (properly) learn a few token phrases when vacationing in another country.

Tomorrow, I think, should be Foreign Language Day at Into the Thick of It. Bring your favorite foreign phrase and share it with the rest of the class.

Ciao!

What did you do today?

2007-03-10T18:44:00.001-08:00

We built a fire pit and then roasted hot dogs for dinner followed by s'mores for dessert.

Saturday morning ick factor

2007-03-10T08:25:00.000-08:00

It's Saturday morning so, naturally, the children are watching cartoons.

A commercial came on for a new Barbie doll and for reasons still unknown to me, I watched it.

This morning they were selling the Barbie Forever Barbie Doll with Tanner the Dog. Barbie is bad enough* but Tanner the dog is nasty!

You feed the dog "biscuits" which the dog promptly poops out. Barbie very responsibly picks up the poo with her magnetic pooper scooper and tosses it into the waste bin. When it's time to feed Tanner you dump the waste bin and feed her the poo because the food and poo are all the same.

Don't believe me? The sentence below is taken directly from Amazon's item description:
At this point, Barbie can pick it up with her scooper, and then Tanner will eat it again-- just like your real dog!

"Just like your real dog"? Perhaps we're strange but we do not feed our dog her own bodily waste!!!

Ew! Ew! Ew!

The morning after pill

2007-03-09T21:03:00.000-08:00

A news story ran this evening about parents of a murdered teenager trying to get Alexa's Law passed in Kansas. The potential law is so-named after the unborn baby of the murdered teenager.

I'm not commenting about the law or the potentially far-reaching implications. I haven't read it and know nothing more than what's in the story.

This is the statement that sent me reeling:

The bill would not charge a mother who harmed an unborn child, nor would it charge for death caused by abortion or by medication, such as the morning-after pill.

Now, being a wise little feminist, I lurk, on a daily basis, around Bitch Ph.D.'s blog and distinctly remember this post.

To reiterate: Plan B (aka the morning after pill) is not the abortion pill. It prevents pregnancy from occurring.

News dispute

2007-03-07T20:37:00.000-08:00

Mr. Tonks and I are at an impasse.

He has a habit of channel surfing during the 10 o'clock news*. He buzzes back and forth between the four stations which often means I get to watch the same story- three or four times.

This annoys me to no end.

When asked why he does this, Mr. Tonks says, "I didn't think you were paying attention."

In my humble opinion, that response is dumb and makes no sense. Yes, I'm blogging while the news is on but I can pay attention to two things** at once.

I just want to watch/ listen to the news, all the news, not the same news story 4-times in a five minute period. Is that too much to ask?

*The ten o'clock news is usually the only news I get to watch.

**This should come as no surprise. My time is generally spent watching Thing 1 (JP) and Thing 2 (SG) all day, every day. Except of course, when I'm not watching them and they make each other scream.

PITY PARTY!!!

2007-03-06T20:48:00.000-08:00

This evening Mr. Tonks is having a pity party for himself. I hereby invite you all to drop by and placate his bruised ego.

I wish my kids could've seen that

2007-03-06T20:07:00.000-08:00

I have decided that we (the kids and I) are going to start using our garage as a main point of entry into the house. I think it will cut down on some dirt and clutter. Maybe. Okay, probably not but right now it seems like a good idea.

Anyway, in an effort to make this change more feasible, Mr. Tonks and I worked on the garage this evening. I was putting some things in the loft area above the garage which consists mostly of wood joists.

Good thing those trusses were there.

I had just finished putting the leaf blower away and was getting ready to climb back down the ladder when the ladder fell. Using my swift, catlike reflexes* I grabbed one of the joists and held on for dear life. I dangled, about eight or nine feet above the concrete floor, for a couple seconds before Mr. Tonks (my hero!) rescued me and returned me safely to ground level.

My only regret, other than the big bruised knot on my shin, was that my kids were not awake to see my stunt work. I have no doubt that JP would think his mom super cool. I love it when he thinks I'm cool.

*Go ahead and laugh.

The worst dream ever

2007-03-05T17:20:00.000-08:00

The dream I had last night was wretched. Wretched.

I dreamed I was going to the bathroom. It was one of those dreams that was vividly real. The kind that leaves you disconcerted upon waking because, in your sleepy state of mind, you're not sure what's dream and what's reality.

So, as I said, in my dream I was perched on the toilet, answering the call of nature. Midway through my business I woke-up, terrified to find myself in bed. I felt around cautiously, certain that my hand was going to eventually hit a wet spot. It didn't, thank God. Can you imagine that conversation at two in the morning? Having to tell my husband that his 28-year old wife had wet the bed? Something, incidentally, that I've never done- not even as a toddler!

Needless to say, my remaining five-hours of sleep were not good.

Easily amused

2007-03-04T12:14:00.000-08:00

Confession: I love to go through the Sunday engagement and wedding announcements and study the couples and make predictions as to how long the relationships will last.

Guinea pig

2007-03-03T18:07:00.000-08:00

JP wants a guinea pig. We place the blame solely on Wonder Pets.

He has a really cute, realistic looking stuffed guinea pig, which reduced the number of guinea pig requests, but hasn't stopped them completely (which was the goal).

I told JP if he wanted one two things had to happen: he had to use his own money and Daddy had to agree to it. The latter did not occur. When JP readily agreed with the first stipulation, I explained that buying a guinea pig would delay buying the Nerf crossbow thing that he wants. He didn't care.

We went to the pet store* today and while there he blissfully cradled a guinea pig for half-an-hour. There is no doubt that he truly wants one.

Mr. Tonks and I have pondered the possibility of the Easter Bunny bringing JP a guinea pig but, quite frankly, the Easter Bunny is on the fence as to whether or not s/he really wants one!

*While there a woman was purchasing something in a big cardboard box. JP asked about the box's contents and she said, "A bunny. It's dinner for a Burmese python."

A LOT

2007-03-01T18:49:00.000-08:00

When I was but a wee high school sophomore taking J-1 (the prerequisite journalism class) our advisor strode into the room and wrote the following on the board in huge letters red letters.

ALOT = TWO WORDS DAMMIT

A LOT

She went on to list other offending words: your/ you're, its/ it's, their/ there/ they're, etc . You get the picture. More often than not, when I see "alot" spelled that way, it makes me cringe. It drives me crazy and it makes me want to yell, "Two words, dammit!"

I feel much better having gotten that off my chest.

Blah

2007-02-28T11:40:00.000-08:00

I've been wanting to write something non-mommy related. I'm bored with the topic and, quite frankly, I'm sure my handful of readers are as well.

Instead, I'm sick. Mr. Tonks has been home for the last two days taking care of the Tonklings and babying me. Yesterday he got a taste of what it's like for me on my "day off" as he calls it and today he has bravely loaded up JP and SG (both, by the way, have ear infections) and taken them to Costco because we are out of food.

Part of me feels sorry for him. I do! He's been thrown into some rough waters, head first, without much of a life jacket. The other part of me is secretly rejoicing. He's getting a small taste of what it's like to stay home- I can tell because he's been a little cranky with JP and SG and Mr. Tonks is not the cranky type.

So, until I feel up for a non-parenting post, A White Bear ponders the fate of bees over at ITNSII?, Orange has some interesting points about boys vs. girls toys, Jolt had some wicked spam so it might be worth going through her comments alone just to see some more of that stuff ;) and if you haven't checked out her blog yet, you should. My friend Anna posted another gorgeous African sunset picture and, of course, there is always something interesting going on over at Unfogged.

Right now, though, I'm off to take an afternoon nap.

The best e-mail I've gotten in a long time

2007-02-27T19:32:00.000-08:00

It read:

I'm ok and my soldiers are ok. I can't really talk about it, but whoever is praying for my guys has my thanks.

Thank God. Dan is safe.

What I'm doing now

2007-02-27T12:16:00.000-08:00

Today I am home sick. I ventured out of my room (where I've miserably been watching movies all day) to play a little on the computer.

Now, instead of writing a post about what it's like for Mr. Tonks to play Mr. Mom, I'm writing a post about my friend, Dan.

Dan is stationed at Bagram Air Force Base in Afghanistan. The same place where some Taliban member tried to blow up (or so they say) VP Cheney.

The terrorist failed. Instead he killed at least one US solider, a South Korean soldier, an American contractor and wounded others.

I don't know if my friend is still alive or not. I have searched every conceivable article on the incident, watched every video trying to catch a glimpse of his face. The base is huge, the probability of seeing Dan on tape is minuscule but not knowing if he is dead or alive is enough to make me insane.

The war in Afghanistan is what the Bush administration should have concentrated its efforts on. Instead, he (Bush) lead us into a false war in Iraq and, to this day, I'm still not sure why the hell we ever started shit over there. I can't help but wonder if Bush would've finished the war he started, instead of the war Daddy Bush started, maybe, perhaps, the war on terror would be more successful.

I'm so angry right now. I'm angry that our army is spread so thin that men and women are having to go back and for two and three tours of duty. I'm angry that the war in Iraq ever happened. I'm angry that Bagram security allowed a suicide bomber inside the base. I'm angry that there is a possibility that Cheney- a foul, horrible, evil man- is still alive, while my friend- a sweet, kind, intelligent, loving man- might be dead. Even if Dan did survive, someone's friend, husband or wife, son or daughter is gone. Perhaps I should blame the Taliban (and I do) but, mostly, I blame Bush and Cheney for so royally fucking up and playing Russian Roulette with other peoples' lives.

Money and guns

2007-02-24T18:30:00.000-08:00

Every once in awhile I take JP on a date. We go wherever he wants, move at his pace (i.e. I never say, "Come on! Let's go!") and spend time holding hands, playing, and talking without Mr. Tonks or SG.

Several weeks ago, while on one of our dates, JP discovered a Nerf crossbow thingy that he really, really wanted.

First, toy weapons of any kind are banned in our house. I admit that this rule is completely futile. He may not have any toy guns but he'll make them out of anything- a straw, wooden spoon, etc.

Second, the aforementioned rule notwithstanding, the damn thing cost over $20. I usually buy JP a little something when we're out but it usually falls into the $5 or less category.

I have decided to allow JP to buy the Nerf crossbow but he must do it with his own money. I occasionally pay him for doing extra chores- picking up sticks in the yard, dusting the doors, etc. To date he's earned about $8 of the $23 he needs.

Today we went on another date and visited a different toy store. There were many things that caught his eye and on more than one occasion JP would say, "Mommy, do I have enough money to buy this?" I finally explained to him that, yes, he did, but that if he spent his money he would have to start all over on his savings for the crossbow. He pondered this and then said, very somberly, "Okay Mommy. Let's just go."

To teach him this lesson about money is monumentally hard for me. I am an only child that grew up in a house where money was never an issue. I wasn't spoiled but I never really grasped the concept of money. To this day, at the age of 28, I have money management issues. I'm trying to teach my 4-year old son a lesson that I am still learning.

To see him make such a mature decision- to forgo instant gratification for a much bigger payoff- made me so proud. It was one of those rare moments when, as a parent, I feel like I'm doing something right.

Little mean girls

2007-02-22T19:39:00.000-08:00

Today I took JP and SG to the mall for shoes. They behaved so well I not only took them for overpriced hot dogs at Nordstrom's Cafe and let them have lollipops, I was also manipulated into schlepping to the Rainforest Cafe to look through their store.

On the way there JP (who, at age 4, is roughly the size of a first grader) very happily showed his heart shaped lolly, smiled and waved to a trio of 7- or 8-year old girls walking hand in hand towards Build-a-Bear. The middle girl looked contemptuously at him and muttered, "Stupid."

She was horrified to discover that JP hadn't heard her but I did. I stopped, and said, "Excuse me?" The trio stopped. The middle girl looked terrified. I again said, "Excuse me?" The middle girl who had so much to say just moments before scurried away, still holding her friends' hands.

I wanted to pinch her, slap her- to be just as mean as she was. JP was oblivious (thankfully) but I wanted to pound that tiny little witch into the ground.

The mother (of which girl I'm not sure) was walking about 10-feet ahead of the pack, on a cell phone and completely unaware that anything had transpired. I thought about following them into Build-a-Bear and letting the woman know how hateful the child had been. I didn't because I thought it better for JP. Why make an issue out of something he didn't even know happened? In retrospect I wish I would've. Obviously she needed a lesson in kindness.

Assorted thoughts

2007-02-22T18:20:00.000-08:00

Birthday Blues update

Yesterday SG turned 2 and I actually managed to NOT cry once. I got teary eyed (while sitting on her bed and staring at her for about 10-minutes) as she slept but I didn't dissolve into a ball of sadness.

Yesterday was a good day
Krispy Kreme for SG's birthday breakfast. Played at a park for 3-hours. Yummy birthday dinner for SG made by my mom. A horrendously ugly cake made by yours truly that tasted really good. Oh, and we scored a brand new water heater for a mere $80! Hooray for the home owners' warranty! It was installed today so tonight I get to take an honest-to-God hot shower for more than 3-minutes. :)

Maybe February isn't too bad

...because the weather has rocked this week. It's been in the 50's and 60's all week and we have spent as much time as humanly possible OUTSIDE! If the weather takes a turn for the colder (which it will) I will go back to maintaining that February sucks.

I like working out
I do. It's fun, especially when my friend/ neighbor goes with me and we laugh about leaving our husbands with the children. While we're getting our butts kicked in a body sculpting class, they're getting their butts kicked by kids who would really rather not sleep. Plus, I'm losing all the weight I've gained over the last few months and getting toned. Sweet!

My neighborhood

It's just flat out awesome. Love it. Love living here*. Love my house. Love my neighbors. Hooray for my neighborhood!

My dog is gross

She is. She's seriously overweight (at nearly 10 lbs. she weighs about 4 lbs. more than she should). She makes these horrible noises, sounds that should be coming out of old men with emphysema and she has a funky goiter on her side. I love her, though. Nasty sounds and all. That's her in the picture.

My in-laws are moving here

Quite frankly I'm not sure how I feel about that. Right now they're over an hour away. My mother-in-law has "expectations" that she never asserts and we usually fail to meet. They're being so close in proximity will either be good or really, really bad.

I'm done!

Remember that hot shower I talked about? I'm going to go take it as soon as Grey's is over.

*We just moved here about 5-months ago.

Birthday funk

2007-02-18T20:10:00.000-08:00

My baby girl's second birthday is on Wednesday and the Birthday Blues have begun.

I'm not sure what my deal is. Whenever the kids' birthdays approach I begin to get weepy and wistful. I look pictures to see how much they've changed, dwell on how fast the time has gone and long to bottle up all their sweet baby goodness to keep forever.

If history repeats itself (and I'm sure it will) I will likely cry myself to sleep Tuesday night. By Wednesday evening, Thursday at the latest, I'll be over my little funk and back to normal.

Until then...let the tears flow.

Who knew?

2007-02-17T19:19:00.000-08:00

This catalogue was in our mailbox today. I had no idea such things existed.

Need a new Rosary? They've got hundreds. Did you know that a Rosary is manufactured especially for Catholic believers who are incarcerated? Yep! The catalogue boasts they're "Ideal for Prisons!"

How about some Holy Cards? A statue of St. Lazarus? Maybe a Crucifixion Bust Wall Plaque. I'm not sure what's more disturbing about that: using the Crucifixion as art or the fact that the Christ in this particular model has no limbs.

Most interesting though are the priest models. Several of them are quite handsome. I don't think I've ever seen a clergy member that good looking.

Perhaps I need to revisit the Catholic faith?

Jon Who-ert?

2007-02-16T22:10:00.000-08:00

[Mr. Tonks here. Thanks for letting me share my world with you. In case you didn't know, I'm teh shit. Soooo... um... glad that's out of the way. Ooh! Ooh! FYI, I might post complete fabrications and non-true things sometimes.]

The following is an email that I managed to swipe from an anonymous FoxNews staffer before it was sent to various members of the right-wing blogosphere:

Good news! FoxNews is ready to rock the funny with our new specials, Redeye and Half Hour News Hour and we need fellow flag-draped funny-men to "bring-it" conservative style! Those liberals think they have the market on humor. Pa-shaw!

Come join us at Fox 'cause Uncle Sam demands it, Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior knows that the other networks work for satan. Boooooo! Satan totally sucks.

Join us as we skewer:

the democrat party
GAYS! AHHH!! Get them off me! LOL!
Mexico
Islam
blacks, Thanks Biden!
the poor
poor blacks
Iraq
science
women (with whole shows devoted to Peloosi goosy and she-devil Hillary-hilarity)
black women
poor black women
9-11 victims and their families
veterans who oppose Our Leader's war and surges
nature and those who care for it
art
victims of parkinson's disease
non-country music other than Nugent
Spongebob
education
college professors
did I mention Gays?!!! Seriously! Total yuck.

Here's what some of America's most important people have to say about our new shows:

"ROFLMAO."
-Dick Cheney, Vice President of the United States of America

"OMG, THE FUNNIEST COMEDY SHOW IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD, EVAR!!! I HATE ISLAM! WHY AM I YELLING?!!!"
-Micheal Savage, The Savage Nation

"I wholeheartedly reject a show such as this that uses mass media as a platform for hate. These agents of intolerance will only succeed in dividing this country more...[30 seconds later] Its good to see Fox balancing the scales. Its a funny show. Our great nation needs to hear this message."
-John McCain, U.S. Senator (R-AZ)

"Oh... oh god... oh... oh! Oh!! Smear em, baby! Yes! Yes!! Oh god!!! SSSSMEEEAAAR!!! OH! OH! YES! OHHHHHHHH!!!!! Ahhhhhhh. That was fantastic. Anyone got a cig? Maybe a smoking mosque?"
-Michelle Malkin

"The Daily Show emboldens our enemies. The Colbert Report undermines our leadership. Its good to finally see a show that isn't weak on national security who doesn't embolden our enemies and undermine our troops. These are Great Americans. We must win. They must lose. Good. Evil. Right. Left. Embolden. Undermine. Let Freedom ring."
-Sean Hannity, FoxNews "Hannity & Colmes"

"Its good to see the Father God back in the funny business. I thought He lost His sense of humor after He took Anna Nicole away."
-Pat Robertson, The 700 Club

Mr. Tonks speaks

2007-02-16T21:55:00.000-08:00

Mr. Tonks has lots of opinions and he's funny. Therefore, soon he shall be contributing to our little forum. I'm also toying with the idea of asking a couple other people to join in the fray but until then...

Enjoy!

More February bitching

2007-02-16T20:17:00.000-08:00

It started to snow this afternoon. Again. Two more inches of the blasted white stuff.

JP (whose 4) looked out the window today and wailed, "Mommy, it's snowing! I don't want it to snow! I want it to be sunny!" Then he started to cry.

Fucking February. Now it made my kid cry.

Good weekend food

2007-02-16T20:01:00.000-08:00

This is a hoagie. A warm, yummy, gooey delicious sandwich. Just about everybody I know loves a good hoagie and mine are pretty darn good. This is ridiculously easy which makes it ideal weekend food. Here's what to do...

Gather:

Hoagie rolls (I like to use firm whole wheat rolls)

Thinly sliced ham and turkey*

Swiss cheese

Shredded mozzarella cheese

Garlic salt

Assembly:

Slice and toast hoagie buns.

Layer turkey and ham on the bottom half of hoagie.
Put Swiss cheese and mozzarella on the top half of the hoagie.

Sprinkle meat with garlic salt.

Cook it:

Zap sandwich, open faced in the microwave for a minute.

Put the two halves together.

Cut it.

Eat the hoagie and enjoy.

*If you'd like you can use turkey OR ham. Whatever floats your boat.

I hate February

2007-02-14T17:36:00.000-08:00

I. Fucking. Hate. February.

It's a depressing, nasty, dirty, dreary month. I hate it.

I am on the verge of losing my mind. It has been over 30-days since we've been able to go outside and play for any decent length of time. The children are sick of me, sick of each other, sick of their toys, movies and games. Quite frankly, I'm not all that fond of any of the aforementioned items either. Children included.

My darling little heathens are dangling on a precarious ledge. There are moments when I think they're going to quit fighting each other, declare mutiny and begin a preschool version of Lord of the Flies. They'll become cannibals, first using me as their snack and then go after one another. The little one will ultimately be victorious. Of the two she's got more staying power.

I feel quite certain that the only thing that can save me from the doldrums is some sunny, 60 degree weather. Yeah, I know, it's not going to happen.

I hate February.

I could've lived without hearing this

2007-02-11T18:58:00.000-08:00

This afternoon JP popped his little blonde head out of the bathroom and shouted, "Mom! Come here!" I obliged him. Upon entering the bathroom he very cheerfully exclaimed, "Hey! Want to see my nasty poop?"

Ugh.

Faith

2007-02-11T18:33:00.000-08:00

Today's Non Sequitur struck a chord with me.

It's been awhile, a long while, since I've been to a church to worship. The longer I stay away, the less I want to go. It's not that I don't have faith, that I don't believe or even that I don't want to. I just haven't found a place that delivers a message I can believe in.

My beef with organized religion has less to do with religion and almost everything to do with the people who organize it. So many times the individuals who tout themselves as "good Christians" aren't. They talk a good talk, put together a good facade, but they don't walk the walk. Yet they'll happily help you with every sin and shortcoming you've got.

It's frustrating because I want my children to grow up with a strong faith but finding a church that's not going to condemn my beliefs (pro-choice, legalization of gay unions, etc.) that will also foster my kids sense that something exists that's bigger than them.

So, until I find that place, Hueyism is looking pretty darn good.

Oh happy day!

2007-02-10T12:06:00.000-08:00

He's running.

Barack the vote*!

Huh? moments

2007-02-06T20:19:00.000-08:00

I don't do well in the morning. For starters, my bed is ridiculously cozy and comfortable so getting motivated to get out of it doesn't come easy. Second, it's flipping cold. Third, my room is quiet, my children are not. Finally, I'm just not a morning person. Mr. Tonks is the go-to-guy when it comes to getting up with JP- usually when it's still dark outside.

This morning was no different. Mr. Tonks woke me up and I lay there, refusing to get out of bed. He turned on the light, got the ironing board out and turned the TV on. I lay there, refusing to get out of bed. I was vaguely aware of the news but still in la-la-land and still refusing to get out of bed.

I eventually hauled myself into the living room and plopped on the couch and watched the DVD* du jour with JP and SG but something was bugging me about a story I thought I heard on TV.

As my head cleared I really began to wonder if I was going crazy.

Me: Was there something on the news this morning about an astronaut being arrested?

Mr. Tonks: Yeah.

Me: Arrested for attempted kidnapping and murder?

Mr. Tonks: Yeah.

(long pause)

Me: Was there something said about her wearing a diaper so she wouldn't have to pull over?

Mr. Tonks (laughing): Yes.

Me: Really? Why would you do that?

Mr. Tonks: She's an astronaut. She's probably used to it.

Me: What? Astronauts don't use diapers. They pee in a hose.

Mr. Tonks: What do you think they do on spacewalks?

Me: Hold it. Go before the spacewalk. They don't go in diapers.

Now the debate rages: do astronauts use diapers in space?

*We don't have cable or satellite. We have good ol' rabbit ears sitting on our TV. The theory is that we'll watch less TV and, more importantly, so will the kids. We'll also save money. In the last few weeks, though, this has not been the case. The baby is turning into a complete couch potato and I've probably spent more on DVD's in the last two weeks than it would've cost to have cable with every available premium channel.

Winter be gone!

2007-02-05T20:24:00.000-08:00

If only it were that simple.

The children have not been outside to play for weeks. Weeks.

JP has a wretched cold which means he doesn't feel good and he's acting like a total toad.

SG is getting the aforementioned cold. She is a total punk when ill.

I have to go for root canal related work tomorrow and I'm coming down with the same cold the kids have.

Mr. Tonks is, as usual, perfectly healthy which kind of pisses me off.

Blah.

This just sucks

2007-02-02T20:40:00.000-08:00

Right before Christmas I had to have two root canals. One on a Monday; the other on a Wednesday. The mind-blowing pain associated with the Monday one is something I'll never forget. Two words: liquid lightning. That's the only way I can describe it.

Do you know what sucks more than the pain?

The bill. One thousand dollars. Per tooth. Our insurance has a cap of $1,000 per year so we we're stuck with a nearly $1,100 dollar invoice that sweetly arrived a few days after Christmas.

Each root canal takes approximately seven-minutes from the time the endodontist starts drilling until he's finished. That's around $8,000 per hour. Just food for thought.

When I opened the bill I immediately thought of all the things I would rather go in debt for other than the root canals: the Mac PowerBook that causes me to drool just a little. Nifty new furniture from this store. A weekend away to someplace warm and quiet sans JP and SG. LipoDissolve*. At least 10 new pairs of shoes. The list goes on and on. I don't like going into debt but, dammit, when I do I want to have something to show for it!

Today I had to go back for a second root canal on the bottom (Monday) tooth. The infection was coming back with a vengeance. I'm hoping we don't get charged- as if the endodontist has some sort of all inclusive package per tooth. Seriously, if we now have to dish out over $2,000 to this guy I'm going to be really upset.

*sigh*

This just sucks.

*I really, really want LipoDissolve. Two pregnancies have not been kind to my bum and thighs and LipoDissolve seems like a brilliant solution.

February 2nd

2007-02-01T20:24:00.000-08:00

2/2 UPDATE: Phil says spring will be here soon! WOO-HOO!!!

Groundhog's Day is tomorrow. That funky little rodent had better not see his shadow because winter needs to go away. My sanity depends on it.

Outrage Part II

2007-02-01T16:43:00.000-08:00

The incident below happened February 5, 2006- nearly a year ago.

Today the Kansas City Police department announced that the offers involved in the incident were on leave. With pay, of course.

Department Chief James Corwin declared the officers actions as "inconsistent with the values and policies of this department and inconsistent with the training they received in the police academy."

Huh. Interesting, no?

The police chief offered up the pithy quote at a news conference held this afternoon where no questions were allowed from reporters.

I suppose he was afraid* they'd ask things like, if their behavior was so outrageous, why are the officers being suspended a year after the incident? Why weren't they suspended in a timely manner? Why is it that this case only came to light after the victim filed a lawsuit against the police department? Why haven't the officers been fired?

Oh, and for those of you reading this not from the area: there are two Kansas Cities. Kansas City, KS and Kansas City, MO (they melt into one big metro area but that's beside the point). The incident happened on the Missouri side of the state line.

*Corwin cited pending litigation as the reason for not allowing questions. Whatever.

Outrage

2007-01-31T19:13:00.000-08:00

This story is all over the news here.

Sofia Salva was pulled over by police about a year ago. She is seen on video telling the police officers (one of whom is female) that she is pregnant and bleeding. Over and over again she tells them that she is pregnant and bleeding. She even offers to let them check her underwear.

The officers' response: "How is that my problem?"

Salva was arrested on several outstanding warrants and traffic violations and taken to jail where she was denied medical treatment. When she was released the following day she went to the hospital where her baby boy was born prematurely. He survived for 60-seconds.

In the video you can clearly see Salva's distress and her compliance with the officers. She offered no resistance other than her verbal assertions that she was pregnant and bleeding. Why was an ambulance not called? Why didn't they escort her to the hospital? Why didn't she receive treatment in jail? What the hell is wrong with the people at the Kansas City Police Department?

I all but guarantee that Salva, a black immigrant, wouldn't have endured such treatment (or, rather, lack thereof) had she been a white woman.

Bitch Ph.D. has a fantastic post about the rights of women in police custody, "'Bad' Women Have Rights Too". I'm ashamed to say I hadn't given the subject much thought until reading her post. I encourage you to go there and read it.

The disdainful negligence shown by officers Melody Spencer and Kevin Schnell is repugnant. "Protect and serve" now seems a particularly laughable motto for KCPD. They did nothing of the sort.

Answer the question

2007-01-30T18:11:00.000-08:00

Today on NPR they aired an interview with reporter Juan Williams and President Bush. If you want to read the whole transcript or hear the entire interview, click here.

MR. WILLIAMS: All right. You know, you mentioned timetables. NPR has a reporter embedded with the Minnesota National Guard in Iraq, and one of the soldiers there asked the question – says, my name is Specialist Ryan Schmidt from Forest Lake, Minnesota, and my question for you, Mr. President, is what if your plan for a troop surge to Baghdad does not work

PRESIDENT BUSH: Well, I would say to Ryan, I put it in place on the advice of a lot of smart people, particularly the military people who think it will work, and let us go into this aspect of the Iraqi strategy feeling it will work. But I will also assure Ryan that we're constantly adjusting to conditions on the ground.

MR. WILLIAMS: Let's talk about Iran for a second, Mr. President.

PRESIDENT BUSH: And let me also say to Ryan, thanks for serving. I mean, one of the amazing things about our country is that we have people who volunteer to go. And one of the things I look for is whether or not we're able to recruit and retain, and we are. And it's a remarkable country, Juan, where people are saying I want to serve. And I appreciate that soldier, and I hope this message gets to him that not only do I appreciate him, but a lot of Americans appreciate him.

In other words, boys and girls, Bush doesn't have a fucking clue. His big Save the Day Strategy for Iraq is based on a "feeling." Yeah, I get a feeling too. Every time I need to poop.

Someone tell me, please, when in the hell is a reporter going to hold Bush accountable for answering a damned question? No tap dancing. No evasive maneuvers. None of his coy off the cuff remarks but a real honest-to-God answer?

Journalism no longer exists in this country. It's been replaced by the media.

Dammit!

2007-01-28T20:29:00.000-08:00

I had a pretty good post all ready for my half-dozen readers- a bit too introspective but decent reading nonetheless. I clicked to spell check, Blogger went down and with it went my post. I'm far too annoyed to re-write so it'll have to wait until tomorrow.

Wouldn't you quit after dog 3 or 4?

2007-01-25T19:34:00.000-08:00

This snake ate 11 dogs.

Enjoy this odd little nugget from The New Straits Times.

Acceptance and appearance

2007-01-25T18:39:00.000-08:00

Appearances are important. At least as far as my mother is concerned.

My mother is very, very worried about appearances. As a child I was always perfectly dressed no matter what the occasion: play, shopping, dinner out- my clothing was coordinated from head to toe. Mom began curling my hair when I was tiny. Before I had enough hair to curl I wore bonnets whenever we went out so people would know I was a girl. Appearances were very important.

True story: early one morning when I was six-years old, I cut my arm on a broken mirror. The cut was bad enough that it required 15 stitches- inside and out. Before taking me to the emergency room Mom took enough time to put make-up on. She couldn't be seen without her make-up. Appearances, you may recall, are very important.

I'm not so concerned about what I look like. Oh sure, I bathe and wear deodorant. I like my clothes pressed (enough to be wrinkle free). I usually wear make-up and brush my hair. However, I have no problem going out in sweats, sans make-up with unbrushed hair pulled back in a sloppy pony tail. I don't care. This act of defiance drives my mother crazy.

My children are not always perfectly dressed. One afternoon the kids and I met my mom at the garden center. JP had dressed himself that morning in orange and navy striped clam diggers, an orange Cars shirt with gray sleeves, electric blue shoes (with orange soles) and royal blue socks with multi-colored cars all over them. He looked mismatched but adorable and was very, very proud of the outfit he picked out. My mom was not happy at all. She couldn't believe I had let JP wear such an outfit, much less leave the house in it. Lest you forget, appearances are important.

I never felt like I could do anything well-enough to please my mom and the need for perfection caused issues down the line that will be discussed, in detail, in another post. I love my mom but this need for everything to be "just so" was, and sometimes is, her major downfall as a parent.

I want my kids to grow up knowing that even if they are mismatched clothes, I still love them and what matters more than anything is that they be happy with the choices they make in life. If they choose to do it in clashing shades of orange and blue, so be it. This mama doesn't think appearances are all that important.

Shame on his parents

2007-01-24T20:09:00.000-08:00

In case you missed it, earlier this month 15-year old Shawn Hornbeck returned home after being kidnapped four-years earlier.

For reasons I still don't understand this kid has been paraded through press conferences and the Oprah show. What is wrong with his parents? Why, after Hornbeck has endured years of hell, would they do that to him? What was achieved by having him interviewed by Oprah? Am I the only person that finds their behavior slightly appalling?

Barack Obama sent me an e-mail!

2007-01-24T20:03:00.000-08:00

Okay, so it was a mass e-mail but it started, "Dear Mr. Tonks and Tonks..." and was signed by the man himself!!! For reasons I can't explain this thrills me to no end. If you would like to receive your own e-mail from Obama, click here.

On a related topic, Mr. Tonks has yet to make my RUN, OBAMA, RUN sign. If he doesn't do it soon I'm going to be forced to make something crude and embarrassing. Mr. Tonks, you see, has unbelievable artistic talent. I do not.

Oh to zone out

2007-01-24T19:42:00.000-08:00

My mind goes constantly. In a million different directions at all time of the day and night. It doesn't matter what I'm doing and it seems to be worse the older I (and the kids) get.

I think about what we got SG for her second birthday and the paper I want to use to wrap it. What tasks I've yet to accomplish and what I might actually be able to get done. I ponder what I want to do when my baby starts preschool. Do I want to go back to school? Get a job? Dare I venture into the world of theatre again? I ponder all the things that JP has done during the day that made me laugh. My moments of being a piss poor mother and wishing I could take them back. The times when I've been an awesome mom inspire me to create more moments to relish. I have trouble falling asleep at night because I'm mentally composing a submission to Newsweek and keep asking myself if I really, really want to reveal a part of my life to millions of readers. Money issues abound, as I think they do with everyone. My mind races around all the projects I want to do to our house- which is really quite perfect as it is (except for the lack of garage). Is SG for the children's day out program next year? Where is JP's rocket lunch box? The list goes on and on and on all day.

I've always been like this but lately it's getting intrusive. It's not as though I think I have adult ADD or anything like that but, damn! I just wish I could turn down my own thoughts for five minutes. To my handful of readers: any thoughts?

Tonks' take on the State of the Union Address

2007-01-23T19:10:00.000-08:00

Bullshit. Rhetoric. Some "feel good" American stories followed by a little more rhetoric and a lot more bullshit.

My kudos to Nancy Pelosi for not smacking Bush in the head. I'm not sure I could've shown as much restraint.