To all the moms…

Heard this great essay on NPR last night about the bedroom secrets of the suburban Dad rivaling those of their single counterparts. It’s a funny read, but even funnier if you can listen to it. Here’s an excerpt:

You think it’s hard to get the attention of a woman in a bar? Puh-leeze.

These guys have to convince a woman who has fallen asleep in her clothes reading Thomas the Tank Engine stories that what she really wants right now is some midnight romance under the giant pile of laundry covering the master bed.

So, so funny, and so, so true. To read (or listen) the rest, click here.

My Little Valentine. Big Valentine Accomplishments.

I’m the mom who forgets she signed up to bring cookies on party day, and runs into Safeway five minutes before preschool starts for the privilege of screaming at her children to hurry up already.

I was also the mom who’s daughter brought Diego Valentines to preschool last year. Period. Because I thought when the flier said to bring Valentines, it meant to bring Valentines – NOT hand painted party bags with custom made stickers filled with homemade candy and cookies and tied with silky pink yarn.

Sheesh. Entering the school years is a whole new ballgame of peer pressure, only I have a calloused heart of cynicism on my side these days.

This year I was so proud of myself! In the spirit of maintaining, I added ‘cupcake mix’ to my grocery list on Tuesday, and remembered to buy frosting and sprinkles (Ruthie’s contribution to the party). Last night the kids and I made the cupcakes, and I had Ruthie sign all her Valentines with the letter R – the only letter in her name she can write at the moment.

Tonight we frosted the cupcakes and filled her goodie bags with jelly beans, a sucker, and her princess Valentines.

This Getting Things Done, this Being On Time, this Remembering to Follow Through thing is exhausting for sure. I mean, I’ve just spent two full evenings engaged with my kids when we normally flop in front of a movie. And Ruthie is so excited about her goodie bags she hugged me over and over before bed, and then came downstairs once, looked at the pile of bags on the table, and leaped into my arms one last time.

Valentine’s “Day” has been a three day affair, if you count the shopping – a big change from waking up in a panic at 3am the night before. AND I’ve had a great time with my kids.

I almost had an over-achieving moment when I realized I forgot to buy cellophane gift bags for the candy, and I was going to run to Target after 9pm and fill all the bags myself. But Bryan was like, Seriously? SERIOUSLY? So I improvised by lining regular ziplock bags with pink tissue paper, and stuffing those with the candy.

I think it says, “Fine, I’ll participate in your silly commercial holidays” without going over the top Martha Stewart. What do you think?

Frankly, I’m just happy I won’t be screaming at my children in Safeway tomorrow morning.

Hopefully this will last longer than the sticker chart did.

My kids are starting to drive me crazy with the “I’m hungry” all the time. I had two different friends suggest designating a snack drawer in my refrigerator to fill with snacks my kids can help themselves to, that I refill daily with healthy snacks. I thought this was a great idea.

It took me awhile to get around to implementing, but today I launched Project Independent Snacker.

I showed the kids their baskets, taught Thomas that his name started with the letter T, and explained the basket would be filled everyday with snacks they could eat whenever they want without asking me first. BUT – and I made sure to repeat myself several times – when the basket is empty, there will be no more snacks.

They were like yeah, yeah, sure, gimme that juice box.

I’m sure it will take a few days for them to get over gorging themselves on free food, and I will also have to gauge how much snacking they really need to do during the day. I may have to add or take away the quantity of food.

In this basket is a cheese … thing – I’m not sure what you call it since it’s not a stick. But Ruthie doesn’t like white cheese so I had to improvise – an apple, a juice box, a container of trail mix, and a container of carrots with hummus. Other snacks I have for variety include apple sauce cups, little boxes of raisins, granola bars, crackers, and celery with peanut butter. I’m sure I’ll think of more, but that’s actually probably enough variety.

It felt weird buying all those individually packaged snacks, though. I don’t normally do that, and I’m sure the Earth will haunt me in my dreams tonight and whisper wickedly, “YOUR TRASH IS SUFFOCATING ME!” But for now that’s how I needed to start this thing off – I needed it to be easy so I would finally do it. Once I get into a groove with it I’ll go back to buying bulk and put stuff in containers.

I’m hoping this routine will stick, unlike that stupid sticker chart I made. That lasted, like, five days because Ruthie is so not motivated by stickers.

She’s motivated by watching me melt down into a temper tantrum.

Happy New Year. In February.

So I’ve spent roughly the last month thinking about the New Year and its inevitable draw to set goals. I know these things are usually considered before the New Year so as to get a head start on accomplishing said goals, but we all know I’m not that kind of an overachiever.

Instead I’ve been lurking around the internet, wondering about what all of you are saying about the New Year, in hopes of drawing inspiration.

I loved the honesty of Beth Grigg making a Wild-Ass Guess Regarding 2008; Sarcastic Mom wants to lose Kevin and Leroy, the two rolls of back fat that have attached themselves to her (seriously, follow the link – there is a slightly disturbing, yet familiar picture of Kevin and Leroy. I think their close relatives have camped out on my body where my ass meets my thigh); Wicked Weaving’s aims, or attainable goals sounded a little less threatening than “resolutions.”

One that really stuck out to me though, is Mommy-Come-Lately’s “word” for 2008. Rather than choosing specific goals, she basically chooses a theme for the year. For instance, her theme for 2006 was “gratitude,” last year’s was “simplify,” and this year’s is “content,” as in being satisfied.

I thought this was a brilliant idea, and borrowed it for myself. You can read about my theme for the year on my updated About Page. Yes, I created a new About Page. Why? Well, youâ€™ll just have to read it to find out.

Considering this yearâ€™s theme (seriously, go read about it), I believe 2008 will be a year in which I set the stage for my future writing career by brainstorming, collaborating, and networking with other writers. I hope to be a regular contributer to other web sites, and will look into submitting my essays into some print mediums. Itâ€™s difficult to set specific goals of who and how many since I really have no clue. The point is, I want to challenge myself outside of The Pile.

So there you have it. My very own wild-ass guesses.

Easy Peasy Dinner: Artichoke Chicken

artichoke chicken Things have been slow on this pile since the implementation of NOT SLACKING OFF, and when you factor in that I’m not screaming with rage or contemplating the demise of my children, what else is there to talk about?

This may turn into a food blog.

Speaking of which, thought I would share Bryan’s favorite dinner with you. It’s yummy and low-carb and super duper easy – takes me, like, TEN MINUTES to whip together after a busy day. Thing is, you have to like mayo, which I know not all of you do, and you have to like artichokes, which I know not all of you do. But ever since we started eating actual artichokes with the kids as weekend snacks, they totally dig the idea of artichokes from a can.

Here’s the recipe:

1(ish) cup mayo (I use light)
1(ish) cup fresh shredded Parmesan cheese
1 can artichoke hearts
pepper to taste

(and because the above ingredients look extremely ~~boring~~ white, I usually add something else, like chopped red pepper, or sun dried tomatoes, or broccoli, or something)

Mix together and spread over thawed chicken breasts in a baking dish, and bake at 350 until done. What would that be, like 30 minutes or something?

As you can see, my cooking style is as free spirited as I ~~was before I had children~~ am.

Because he would want you to see it, too.

I bought the kids a “gently used” play kitchen from someone off Craig’s List because I was feeling their old one was too small and unusable. I’m sure the old one was fine, and I’m sure by purchasing this new kitchen the kids will simply have a much larger toy to ignore in the playroom, but I was becoming irritated that the old kitchen wasn’t very practical or realistic.

In reality, I’m living vicariously through my kids since we are not in a position to upgrade my own small and impractical kitchen right now.

Thomas is super excited about the new kitchen. Every time someone comes over he says in his extremely loud and extremely high voice, “Come see ow new kitchen!” He even extends this fantastic greeting to Bryan every night when he comes home from work. Explaining to Thomas that Daddy has already seen the new kitchen doesn’t seem to compute, because the Earth will stop spinning if you do not lay eyes on this new kitchen.

Walkabout

Today the kids and I went on our weekly Walk About Town to run errands and to generally be part of the community. I use “weekly” in a loose way, since the last time we did our Walkabout was before Thanksgiving, which was before the Pukefest, which was before the vacation, which was before the vacation recovery.

But prior to all that, we were going weekly.

We walked to the optometrist, and to the bank, and to the post office, and ended where all good Walkabouts end: the cupcake shop, where it’s always warm and inviting, and there’s always someone to chat with while sitting in the cozy leather chairs.

I’m always so proud to be my kids’ mom when on our Walkabouts. They wave and say hello to every person we pass, regardless of what that person looks like or is wearing, or is smoking or drinking (if you know what I’m talking about). Thomas does not take his greetings lightly either. You must respond to him, or he will continue waving at you and chirping “HI!” until you acknowledge his neighborly hospitality.

Today at the bank he growled like a monster at another customer waiting in line – his greatest display of affection.

California Culture Shock

It takes me fifteen minutes just to get to the interstate from where we are staying, on a hill high enough that my ears pop every time we go into town. On the interstate it takes another 10-15 minutes to get to Costco, or Target, or wherever I’m headed (because, you know, I saved all my Christmas shopping for when I was ON VACATION). For a girl who lives in a walkable community, a couple miles from everything else she needs, having time for only one errand a day was not on the agenda.

Californians are not hospitable drivers. They don’t like to speed up or slow down to allow for your merging needs. They would much rather you slam on your breaks at the end of the on ramp to avoid running into the guard rail.

Also? For some reason, as I drive around Southern California in our rented Chevy Trail Blazer with tinted windows (it was cheaper than the minivan – I promise), I feel the need to listen to the pop and hip hop stations. What’s up with that? Is it a California thing? An SUV thing? Is it a tinted window thing? I don’t know, but I think Bryan will dig his ears out with a spoon if he has to hear Justin Timberlake in the car one. more. time.

Flames, flood, and signals of the end

When I told my friend about my day she was like, “Geez, it’s like Red Dawn – grab your guns and head for the hills!”

First of all, my power went out quite randomly this morning while I was frying ground beef. I was also doing laundry. I had turned on all the lights and was playing Christmas music to stave off the depressive dreary day. Suddenly, all my productivity halted and we sat in the kind of dark where it’s not really dark but not really light, either – like the bad dreams I always have when I can’t see my enemies clearly.

The creepy thing to me, was that as soon as the power went out I heard multiple sirens from all directions, as if catastrophe and chaos awaited me on all sides.

Eventually the power came back on, I finished my chili and got the laundry done.

Then around 2:00 the power went off again. And I began hearing sirens again. And then I saw a HUGE PLUME OF SMOKE rising above the buildings a few blocks behind my house.

I actually called the police department as was like, I HAVE NO POWER, I HEAR SIRENS, AND I SEE SMOKE… AM I IN DANGER???

Turns out the McDonald’s down the street was on fire, and she had no idea why I had no power. You should click on that link and see the pictures – FLAMES SHOOTING INTO THE AIR. It’s a spectacular sight.

Oh, and did I mention our governor declared a STATE OF EMERGENCY for all the flooding? Yeah, it’s the end of the world. Grab your guns and head for the hills.

Anyway, I just spent two hours without my kids, making lists and checking them twice; making travel plans, returning travel-related emails, scheduling Christmas photos, alerting all of Southern California we will be in town for TWO WEEKS, and so on. And now, I will do some quick Christmas shopping.

Go forth and have a better day than me.

101 Things Found on my Piano

The Great Purge of 2007 did not stick. Most everything that I decluttered is back to it’s original glory, that is, CLUTTERED. A girlfriend came over for lunch yesterday, and I had to clear a path for her through the living room, then clear off the counter to make lunch, then clear of the dining table so we could eat.

We had a good laugh about it, mostly because in the humor of those moments I just decided to admit to myself that I am a Clutter Bug. I don’t pick up after myself, I don’t finish what I start, and I hate maintaining. This is not to say I’m giving in to myself; I’m just going to look at it from a different perspective.

So after she left I put a movie on for the kids and decluttered my piano, which is a major hot spot of clutter in my house – it being the only surface in the living/dining area that doesn’t need to be eaten from or have a drink set on. It’s a non-functional space, so it’s easy to drop stuff there and get it out of the way.

You are going to die laughing when you read this, but as I began to clear stuff off the piano it was cracking me up how ridiculous I am. JUST THROW IT AWAY, ALREADY!!! I know the list is tedious, but for the sake of humoring me, you should skim it over. Plus, I’ve rewarded you at the end with a picture of what it looks like now.

Here is everything I removed from the piano:

One Costco coupon book, expiration date: October 28, 2007.
One half made crown Ruthie started in Sunday school class.
Two unmailed thank you notes from my birthday in September 2007.
One construction paper turkey headband Ruthie made at preschool.
One glasses case.
One unmailed thank you note from Ruthie’s birthday in March 2007.
One borrowed night gown waiting to return home.
Three drink coasters (the fourth was cut to pieces by our resident slasher)
One blank birthday card waiting for a birthday.
Various thank you notes and birthday cards received that until now I haven’t been able to throw away (buh-bye).
One invitation to a party in April 2007.
Two sets of iPod earbuds.
One small wedding photo album.
One unfinished felt project from a camping trip three years ago.
One deck of playing cards.
One broken, homemade mosaic’d picture frame (buh-bye).
Two framed pictures waiting to be hung.
Four hilarious and off-color Christmas card samples from comfort-guide.com.
One user’s guide for a bluetooth hands free speaker.
One tube of chapstick, cap missing.
One pen cap, red.
One 1/2 T measuring spoon.
One small flashlight.
One box of inhalation medication from November 2007.
One huge box of wipes, owner unknown.
One purse waiting to be returned to a friend.
One bunch of Sedum Autumn Joy flowers I thought would dry well, but really just left a mess of dried flower pieces.
Pictures given to me by a friend… two summers ago.
One wrapper to a spool of yarn I want to track down online.
One “control-a-man” remote I received for my birthday.
A wedding program from October 2007.
One scrap notebook the kids write in.
One book I’m waiting to review on my blog.
One 8.5 x 11 piece of paper with one tiny phone number written on it.
One rag that needs to be put in a box in the basement.
One book that needs to be put away on the basement shelves.
Scholastic book order forms from Ruthie’s preschool.
Class pictures from Ruthie’s preschool.
One pound puppy named Banjo.

Ha! That’s so embarrassing, but there you go. Merry Christmas.

Speaking of Christmas, Bryan was able to remove the plate rack from the wall and I hung a Christmas wreath in it’s place. It’s starting to look (and smell) like Christmas in here!

I should also probably mention that I came home from the store today to find the Sufjan Stevens Christmas box set open and disassembled on the top of the piano, as if someone had just played all four CDs and left everything sitting out. So it’s not like I’m the only nut that needs to be cracked around here.

Coding Horror

As it turned out, Bryan had to work the entire weekend I was in Kansas. He took a short break for beer and pizza on Thanksgiving, but otherwise he spent the weekend coding while the kids watched movies. He coded in the living room while the kids took a bath. He coded on the couch while the kids watched movies. He coded in bed while the kids jumped up and down all around him…and watched movies.

As the weekend approached and I realized it would not be filled with fun trips to the dog park or shopping to get mama that really great Christmas present, I tried to find someone to help him with the kids. But in the frantic days before my departure all I could think of were the usual friends and babysitters who watch my kids, and they were all gone for the holiday weekend. After I got home, of course, I remembered all sorts of other people who had offered to watch the kids if we ever needed it.

I checked out six new videos from the library in hopes that fresh entertainment would help keep the kids out of his hair.

The first day I called in I got a report that Ruthie had watched Pocahontas four times in a row. After the second viewing Thomas threw a major fit, so Bryan stuck her in our room while they watched “Buzz Lightyear.” I later learned that Ruthie watched Pocahontas four times every day, which I think breaks the record from my Finding Nemo days.

The second day I called in I learned that Thomas had ripped one of the library’s DVD jackets to pieces (note the bright pink sticker that says, ADULT SUPERVISION RECOMMENDED).

The third day I called in, I learned that Ruthie had drawn on my stainless steal refrigerator with a Sharpie permanent marker. For Sunday I called in reinforcements and had a friend take the kids to church so Bryan could code uninterrupted.

But really, this was like a typical week for me, so I think Bryan was a major stud if that’s all that happened while he was completely preoccupied. When I got home the house was clean, the kitchen was clean, and the kids were alive. That’s all I ask. Truth be told, I felt really bad that he was stressing through a major coding deadline with the kids underfoot while I was making a spectacle of myself over politics in a restaurant.

Yesterday while I was catching up on reading some blogs, I read this HILARIOUS post by Dooce on her new blog design. When she says, “[Jon] has been knee-deep in code for almost two months now…]” I totally related to what that’s like. Yesterday morning Bryan was screaming the F word at his laptop because something wasn’t working in Explorer the way it was working in Firefox, which is similar to the other night when he was screaming the F word at his laptop because something wasn’t working in Firefox the way it was working in Explorer.

When this happens I just pretend I’m not there.

My favorite excerpt from that post is this:

Yesterday as we neared the final stretch I decided to take Leta out to run some errands so Jon could project manage those last few tasks without being distracted by the sound of her body tossing itself on the floor. He briefly got up from this desk to kiss me goodbye when I noticed two giant sweat stains underneath his arms, and I was all, are you running on a treadmill while coding my website? Isn’t that complicated? And he’s all, yes I’m running on a treadmill, WITH MY BRAIN.

So thank you, Bryan, for manning the DVD player while I whooped it up with my family in the midwest.

workout on strike

I am skipping the gym today, or at least postponing until the afternoon. For the last month and a half I have sacrificed community, productivity, and time spent mothering my kids to make this a priority in my week, and I am highly discouraged that I have seen absolutely NO results on the scale. I know muscle weighs more than fat, and I’m likely building more muscle, but COME ON.

I’m not quitting for good or giving up in any way. I’m just feeling particularly overwhelmed right with all the things I need to get done, so I’m giving my gym the finger in order to check some things off my list. I need to feel like I’m accomplishing SOMETHING today.

Derailed.

Just checking in because I hate to see posts like this one sit at the top for too long, dragging everyone down. I actually pulled it together this afternoon: I had a good cry over a glass of wine, I had a good cry on the phone with a friend, then I rallied myself to dig out of the clutter that was suffocating my living room.

I recognized early on in my day that I was responding completely wrong to everything – not just in my actions, but in my heart. I’ve felt bitter, angry, and selfish this week – and I’m not even pms-ing. I knew this, yet the train had already left the station and I didn’t know how to turn it around.

When I explained all this to my friend on the phone, she stopped to pray for me right then and there. “Lord Jesus, please pull up the tracks of Jen’s day so her train derails.”

In that moment those words felt like the most powerful thing anyone’s ever said to me.

I find that I am still attempting to change my anger and control tendencies by asserting my own will against them. Just typing out that last sentence is laughable – controlling my control issues with more control. Ha! That’s funny.

So much more to write, but it’s after 11 and it’s good to end on a light note anyway.

Grrrrr…..

I’ve had a really shitty and stressful day already, and it’s only 10:30. Thing after Thing has happened, giving many reasons to complain about the injustice of Things not going my way – some legitimate, some not. I’m am failing miserably, today, at responding to these Things with grace and mercy.

Maybe I should read my own posts about Thankfulness at my NaBloPoMo site.

Election Day

Last year on election day I turned a new leaf and made a new commitment to the democratic process. Having lived a life of apathy until that point, I felt challenged to care by people in my life that I respected. Not pressured by them, mind you, but internally challenged. I saw their example, and felt I needed to take action in my own life to make some changes.

This mostly came about as I unpacked layers of my inner demons that year to discover I was a lazy and apathetic person in general, not just politically. I made decisions based on my comfort, on convenience, on what I was feeling at the moment. Caring about democracy just wasn’t in the top ten list of Things That Make Jen Feel Better.

Funny, since if you took democracy away from me I would be feeling very consternated.

So last week I dug out my voter’s pamphlet for my area and read up on all the issues. I found that as a homeowner I was keen to read up on proposals pertaining to property tax increases; as a car owner I read up on road and bridge proposals; as a mother I read up on school levy proposals. Not having thought about these things at all in the last year, my brain was exercised to think about my priorities and how I wanted my tax dollars spent.

The morning after I voted, I found myself leaning against the stove, sipping coffee and watching the local news coverage regarding election results. That afternoon I checked the website for our major newspaper to see updated election results. I found myself invested in the very issues I knew nothing about prior to election day.

I am no political activist, but my vote made a tiny dent in the way things turned out last week – both at the polls and in my priorities – and that’s all I was hoping for.