Mae Midwest

Looking for Mae?

2005-12-15T18:20:00.000-06:00

Here she is!

Mae where are you?

2005-10-09T12:56:00.000-05:00

Looking for Mae?

Find her here

Louie Louie, oh oh oh, you're so fake now, yeah yeah yeah yeah

2005-10-08T14:22:00.000-05:00

There's a local radio station in town that's giving away designer purses to the something-ith caller.

Today, the Midwest Household received a card, advertising this giveaway.

On the card are featured several hot designer purses.

It is with much amusement to report that the Louis Vuitton purse pictured in the ad is a fake.

And not a good fake, either. An extremely obvious one. Took me one second in a dark room to spot the fakeness. Here in the light, WOW. That's a plastic purse party purse!

Heh.

God Bless Robert Martinez

2005-10-07T12:36:00.000-05:00

"You don't lay me, you don't pay me, get the fuck out of my way."

Wise words spoken by Mr Bobbo Martinez of Los Angeles, CA. God, Bobbo was a character. A hispanic who wore spandex. Hispandex.

Hispandex Bobbo was so right.

Sometimes I forget Wise Bobbo's words. I let people get inside my head and fuck with it. People who aren't paying me, aren't laying me, and really should get the fuck out of my way.

But those are the people who refuse to budge. They stand there, in your face, and flail around and make a lot of damn noise.

The trick is to not listen. To recite Bobbo's words and not let them get to you.

OH my gosh, that's hard to do. Hard, hard, hard.

Over the past few days, I've learned that perhaps, perhaps, it's time to be a bit more like Bobbo. Minus the spanex. And the internet sighs in relief.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Now get the fuck out of my way so I can go do it.

Tetanus, what a bully

2005-10-06T16:46:00.000-05:00

Today we had our first set of vaccinations for the upcoming trip to China. You have to start the Hepatitis series six months before travel. We had a flu shot, a Hep A/B combo, and a tetanus/dp combo.

We go back in one month for the second Hep combo. We will also have a measels, mumps, rubella booster, and a typhoid shot.

Then we go back three weeks before depature for our final Hep combo.

Wow do our arms hurt.

I doubt I will be able to lift the kiddo tomorrow.

I think it's the tetanus. That shot has a painful reputation.

Right on Target

2005-10-05T14:08:00.000-05:00

Envy me, you Target Whores. I went to the opening of the new city Target last night. Free food, music, and hey how about that special little shopping cart escalator. People crowded around it, oohing and ahhing. You don't see those in Missouri like you do in Southern CA.

We went with Dock Slop Jack.

Dock Slop Jack, who taught my kid that when the cats sneeze, they say, "Meow-Choo!"

Hi pedofiles! Little Suzy's in the backseat!

2005-10-03T19:47:00.000-05:00

My pal Lbseahag posted in her blog about this trend on the West Coast that is SURE to catch on here in the Midwest any second.

Stickers you can paste on the windows of your vehicle that show the members of your family in stick figure form. Complete with a set of letters so you can place each family member's name under the stick figures.

WOW. Wow. WOW! Not only is this hoaky as hell, it's a very, very, VERY dangerous idea.

Do people live in this fantasy 50s wanna be la di da fairy land or what?

YEAH let's advertise to every fucked up pedofile in traffic that you have a bunch of juicy and succulent kids in your mini van. And better yet, also list their names! And then, park that sucker in front of your house or in the driveway. Just in case the random kid fuckers who stroll down your street didn't get a hint of who you've got in the house. Ripe for the pickin!

I know there's one dumbass who reads this blog who thinks I'm way too paranoid about my kid's safety. "Yeah, the world's a bad place but I don't want the threat of pedofiles to ruin my life. What are the chances it would happen to you?"

Oh just suck it.

Police officers advise parents to NOT get a backpack with the kid's name written on the back. The fear is that a predator will use the familiarity of the name to his advantage when the kid strolls home from school.

Wouldn't the same be said about these stupid stick figure car stickers?

I don't know, guys. I guess I live in the year 2005 where bad shit happens and there's too many people just one exit away from Crazy Town.

Be smart, be safe.

Personally, I love the example Hag posted in her blog.

Grandma #3

2005-09-27T08:05:00.000-05:00

A personal note to KD and Kevin- next time I see you, I am going to bop you over the head, Bunny Foo Foo style. You guys got Narnia hooked on Miffy and Friends. And now, the only thing that runs through my head is the Miffy theme song:

"Miffy- a sweet little bunny!"
"MIffy- a smart little bunny!"
"MIffy- a cute little bunny!"

AHHHHHH help meeeeeeeeeeeee! Narnia LOVES Miffy. I give her a choice of the following in the morning: Wiggles, Miffy, or Backyardigans? MIFFY MIFFY MIFFY!!

I want to punch Miffy in her little X mouth.

In other news:

In Colorado, we became friends with our realtor and so did Marge. Our realtor is this super hip, super cool lady who, after we got to know her, became super successful selling 1-2 million dollar properties. I think it has something to do with knowing us, don't you?

Yesterday, Janet came to town to see Narnia. And that, THAT is when I realized how it must feel to have two grandmothers in town.

I didn't have to do a thing.

Between Marge and Janet, every one of Narnia's wants and needs were taken care of. Janet wants to take Narnia back with her to Colorado. Narnia said, "Yeah, I want to live in a million dollar custom home, take me take me take meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

So this week will be spent with the two grandmas. You will probably find me extremely relaxed, happy, and with tons of free time.

SO THIS IS HOW SOME OF YOU FEEL???? Those of you with lots of family in town? Er, SANE family members in town?

Oh man, I hate you even more now.

I'm just trying to picture what it would be like to have grandmas AND grandpas. And Aunts. And Uncles. And Cousins. I'd never be home. I'd be out each and every night. I'd never be home on the weekends. I'd go to parties, and get my hair did, and my nails did, and oh my god- I'd read. I'd READ BOOKS. BOOKS FOR ADULTS!!!!!

But I'd miss my boo schnookums. Now when I sneeze, Narnia says, "Bless you, Mama!"

Still- oh my god, what Matt and I would do with a weekend away....

How you like me now?

2005-09-26T13:39:00.000-05:00

It's been one month since I saw Dr Wonderful and began my effort to control the PCOS. Would you like to hear how I'm doing? I'm going to tell you RIGHT NOW, isn't that EXCITING AS HELL?

I feel GREAT!!!

I hate even publishing this for fear of suddenly getting severe mood swings or hard core depression or something crazy like that.

Let's just say that after only three days of taking the Necon 35 birth control pills, I became a different person. A happy person. A person who did not have mood swings. A person with zero depression. A person with zero anxiety.

After a week, I began searching for the mood swings. I'd sit on the couch and sink into the cushions and go, "Ok, depression, hit me cuz I know you are!" I'd wait a second and go, "Huh. I feel fine. I feel fine. I FEEL FINE!!!!!"

After three weeks I am pleased to report I had ONE mood swing. This from a gal who would only have one good WEEK per month. One day? I'll take it!! I also had cramps and that period feeling. BUt the next day, nothing. All gone. I'm guessing my body was fighting the pills and the pills won.

I am taking monophasic birth control. That means I get the same amount of hormones every day. I take them for three months, then I stop for one week to have a period. I have heard I may have breakthrough bleeding, but that hasn't happened yet. I honestly believe it's the same amount of hormone every day that keeps me level and even.

So all I can tell you is that after three weeks, I'm sold on Necon 35 and monophasic birth control pills. I'll be sure to report back in a few more weeks to let you know how it's going.

Now for the Metformin. I was ok until I upped my dose as directed to two pills per day. I've had nausea off and on. And I cannot stomach greasy foods whatsoever. They make me vomit about 30 minutes after eating. So guess what- no more fast food for me! No more fried foods, either.

My appetite is much lower now and I need less food to feel satisfied. I seem to be more aware of how foods affect my body, too. I crave sugar MUCH less now. Before, I'd want sugar all day and night.

I got on the scale and did not see any pounds lost, but my pants are slightly looser. My muscles feel really good from daily 30 minute workouts including body sculpting and weight training. The only time I don't work out is when I am ill or have a severe lack of sleep the night before.

I THINK we may have found the answer. But my mind is open. After years of feeling like crap, it's hard to believe I will continue to feel good. I had forgotten what GOOD felt like.

It's an amazing feeling!

Trash and treasures

2005-09-26T11:05:00.000-05:00

Today the trash men were here to collect the trash. Narnia watched them in fascination and when the truck pulled away she said, "Bye bye, Trash Men. I love you!"

They take away Narnia's diapers. I love them, too.

My friend Britney has come up with an idea that I am going to steal like the un-creative rip off artist that I am. INstead of everyone bringing presents for Hannah's 2nd year birthday party, Britney has asked that we bring donations for Nurses for Newborns.

I think this is a brilliant idea. Do our kids really need more STUFF? No. They really don't. Not when other kids out there have so little. Whatever our kids need, we can easily provide. So why not help others?

We will do this for Narnia's birthday party. She will get a gift from myself, Daddy, Marge, and Matt's mom. Otherwise, all other "gifts" will be donated to a program that helps orphans in China.

I encourage other moms out there to do the same thing. If you are middle or upper class and can easily afford all the toys your kids can handle, why not try something like this at your toddler's next birthday party?

That's my Philosophy

2005-09-25T20:08:00.000-05:00

Does good customer service still exist?

That is the question I am constantly asking. Sadly, I'm finding the answer to be, "rarely."

Today was a trip to Sephora Westfield Shoppingtown West County, St Louis, MO. I'm typing the entire name out in the hopes it will be Googled.

I was giddy with excitement to be going to Sephora to purchase Philosophy indulgence items. The Gingerbread Man hot salt scrub. Crumb Cake three in one shampoo, conditioner and body wash. Airbrush foundation in neutral. ANd people have such a hard time buying me Christmas gifts? Hello?!

Total price: $85.00. I work hard, I deserve a little lovin.

I get home and set up my purchases in the bathroom only to discover the shampoo/body wash isn't sealed for my protection. As a Philosophy devotee, I know each item is always sealed for my protection. Yet I've never purchased from the Sephora store before. Maybe the items aren't sealed for Sephora. Nahhh... that's just icky. But still, I wanted to be sure.

I dialed the Sephora Westfield SHoppingtown West County, St. Louis, MO location. The phone was answered by a fluffy headed wing nut, so I knew I was in for a headache.

Fluff Head: Thank you for calling Sephora West County, can I help you?
Mae: Yeah, I was in there today and I purchased a Philosphy 3 in one body wash and it wasn't sealed. I just wanted to double check to make sure all Philosophy body washes are sealed when sold at Sephora, correct?
Fluff Head: Um... I don't know... what was that again?
Mae: Philosophy 3 in one body wash.
Fluff Head: And what is it you want to know?
Mae: Is it sealed? Um.. how do I explain? Is there normally a seal under the cap?
Fluff Head: Please hold.
Mae: (waits)
Mae: (waits)
Mae: (waits)
Mae: (sighs and looks at the timer on the phone. 6:45 seconds have passed.)
Fluff Head: (Comes back on line) Thank you for calling Sephora West County, can I help you?
Mae: Yeah, it's the lady who's holding to find out about the Philosophy-
Fluff Head: Oh yeah. What did you want to know again?
Mae: If the product is normally sealed under the cap. See, I usually buy direct from Philosophy. This was my first time buying from Sephora and it's not sealed.
Fluff Head: Ok, hold on, let me check.
Mae: (waits)
Mae: (waits)
Fluff Head: Thank you for calling Sephora West County, how can-
Mae: Yes, hello. It's still the lady asking about Philosophy.
Fluff Head: OH yeah. We like, don't sell that product so you have to ask somewhere else.
Mae: No. I was just in today and I bought the product. It's in the Philosophy section. Back of the store. It's very colorful, has different scents like berry, chocolate, mimosa...
Fluff Head: Ok, I don't know about that. Hold on, let me ask someone.
Mae: (waits)
Mae: (waits)
Mae: (waits)
Mae: (About to hang up when Fluff Head comes back on the phone)
Fluff Head: Thank you for calling Sephora West County, how can I help-
Mae: Yeah! Yeah.. it's me again.
Fluff: Oh yeah. Um. Like, you have to call back some other time cuz everyone's helping people who are actually IN the store.

I stayed on the line that long because I wanted to know where this would end. And also, because I want to have LOTS to tell the manager in the morning. Not that it will do any good. I'll get the, "Gosh, I apologize, let me go check on that" line of BS and will find out that yes, all products do come sealed and we're so sorry you were sold an item that had been opened and returned. So sorry our people didn't check the product to make sure it was sealed for your protection from someone's fingers, nose, or god knows what else was inserted into the container.

Should I have checked before I purchased? I shouldn't have to. I should assume that a high end product like Philosophy sold from a store like Sephora would have high standards. However, in this day and age, I should just assume everyone and everything is constantly fucked up. Even tho I am paying for products and services, I have to be the manager, customer service rep, and quality control specialist.

It bugs the crap out of me.

Harriet the spy

2005-09-24T20:40:00.000-05:00

I think I'd make a great spy. No one would ever suspect me. You know, this somewhat frumpy housewife in her tshirt and jeans and BACKPACK (sorry, Babysitting Mafia) just shuffling along, doing her Mama thang.

This is why I make a great blogger. I'm constantly observing everyone, just waiting for them to do something interesting so I can write about it in my blog.

Wow, no clue how pathetic you are until you type it out and then read it back to yourself.

Here's a few conversations I overheard while desperately seeking out material for this here blawg.

Setting: Grant's Farm tram
Observing: Two midwestern West County-ish generic-style moms. 30ish.

Generic Mom 1: How's Dave?
Generic Mom 2: Dave's fine. How's Kathy?
Generic Mom 1: She's fine. How's Robert?
Generic Mom 2: He's fine. How's Dan?
Generic Mom 1: He's working.
Generic Mom 2: How's his work going?
Generic Mom 1: It's fine. How's Dave's work going?
Generic Mom 2: It's fine.

Wow, someone actually had sex with these women enough for them to produce offspring. Which proves that for every boring person out there, there's a person boring enough to have sex with them.

Setting: Costume Shop
Observing: Slightly less generic looking 30 year old woman. Probably not a mom. Isn't wearing Mom Jeans and has on heels. Talking on cell phone.

Costume Lady: Oh! My! God! I've been trying to call you for like TEN MINUTES!
I just found a switchblade and when you press the button, a comb pops out! Isn't that GREAT? (Listens) Of course I'm getting one for you! I'm getting one for me, too! Can you just imagine me whipping this out and scaring everyone and then pressing the button and combing my hair? Everyone will just DIE!

Yeah, everyone under the age of five.

Setting: Outside of Target
Observing: 40 something year old woman. Bad 80s hair. Feathered bangs. Tshirt with teddy bear printed on the front.

Bad Hair Woman: What did I tell you before? How come you don't listen to me? You've got to get her out of your life. Rip off the bandaid, Carrie. Just rip it off. Sure, it will sting at first. But then the pain is gone and so is she. Rip it off! Get her out of your life for good. You have to be strong and you have to do this before it's too late. Get. Her. Out. Now. Carrie, listen to me. Rip off the bandaid.

Oooh yeah, that's better. Who's Carrie and who is this other woman? And best of all, who is this feathered hair Dr Phyllis?

Setting: Medical office
Observing: 50 something year old woman in business attire

Office Woman: I'm telling you, he did. He grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me deep into the eyes and said, "Sue. Listen to me. I will not let this happen to you again. Do you understand? I'm on your side, Sue. I will NOT let this happen again.
(Listens) Of course I didn't believe him! He's in management, they're all a bunch of crooks.

Ooooh nice! I wanted to stick around to hear more, but she caught me lingering and turned her back on me and lowered her voice. Damn! Gotta work on my mad spy skillz.

Tight lips don't sink ships

2005-09-24T16:02:00.000-05:00

Time to install that filter upgrade on my brain.

I'm just not watching my mouth lately. The brain is thinking thoughts. The thoughts go to my mouth. The words come out of my mouth. People give me funny looks.

Examples:

A play group with women I don't know. They're sitting together on the floor. I walk over and sit with them and say hello. I ask how they know each other. A breast feeding support group. "Oh oh," my brain says. "Oh oh," I say out loud. I am met with quizzical looks. "Oh, um.. " I stammer, "My daughter's 20 months old, too old for breastfeeding, ha ha ha." I am then met with disapproving looks. "The world health organization says a child should be breastfed until age 3." I am told. I smile calmly and reply, "Well the world health organization needs to send some spare boobies my way cuz I'm sure as hell not doing THAT!" More looks from faces with tightly pulled lips. The talk quickly turns to cloth diapering. Such passion for their choices and everyone who uses "paper diapers" are just evil. I turn to Narnia and say, "Time to go, honey. These aren't our people." I said that out loud, too? Why yes I did! Oops.

I don't think I'll be welcome to join them again, do you?

You know, I'm a mom and all, but damn. I just don't care to discuss breastfeeding in public anymore. I certainly don't want to sit with a group of women I don't know and discuss it. How's your boobs? Oh mine ache today. How are yours? Oh my nipples are sore. Eh bleh yeeeecccccch. Can we talk about something else please? How are you cloth diapers holding the runny poop? Oh yeah.. gimme more of THAT talk. OMG people can we talk about anything else? How about that new Chris Rock show? Or better yet, the one about the housewife who sells pot. That's a GREAT show. No? Cracked nipples? Ok...

Another example:

Very pregnant mom chases her toddler around the room. We smile at each other and I politely ask when she's due. I do the math in my head and say, "So your child was 3 months old when you got pregnant?! Are you INSANE?"

Oops.

She gives me that same tight lipped look. I quickly add, "OH, uh... well I had a miscarraige 8 months ago, so I'd be having a baby next month and I'm SO GLAD now that didn't happen because can you just imagine? An active toddler AND a newborn? NO WAY, NO THANK YOU! I'm happy to have my life back!"

If she pulls her lips into a tighter grimace, they'll crack apart... She nods curtly and walks away.

Later that day, on the phone with my newly pregnant friend who is complaining about morning sickness. "I had to lay on the floor all day while my daughter ran around me. I told her if mommy got off the floor, she'd puke all over the place." My kind and sympathetic reply, "Better you than me, Chickadee."

What has happened to me?

I dunno, but I kind of like it. I'm a bit edgy these days. I think it suits me.

Yep. Yep. Yep. I've totally lost touch with the baby making, breastfeeding, prego crowd. Thems not my people anymore. I don't know who my people are, but I have a feeling they wouldn't give me that stupid tight lipped, something's stuck up their ass look. They'd open those lips and tell me where to shove it.

THOSE are the people I want to hang out with. Those are MY people.

You say Grandma like it's a bad thing

2005-09-22T13:17:00.000-05:00

My morning
By Mae Midwest

The morning begins with a little family outing to Grant's Farm with my mother, myself and my daughter.

Interior- Mae's house
Mae is coaxing Narnia into her shoes.

Marge: Aren't you going to put socks on her?
Mae: She's wearing sandals.
Marge: And.. you're not going to put socks on her?
Mae: It's going to be 90 degrees.
Marge: She'd be more comfortable in socks with her sandals.
Mae: Mom, she is wearing sandals without her socks, ok?
Marge: (sighs) I think you're wrong, but.. whatever!

Mae is coaxing Narnia into the garage.

Mae: Come on, Narnia, Grant's Farm! Choo choo train! Let's go!
Narnia: (squats down and looks at the floor)
Marge: Oh god, she's sick!
Mae: She's sick? No... she's looking at a bug.
Marge: NO, she's sick! She has stomach problems!
Narnia: Yucky bug!
Mae: See, she found a bug.
Marge: No, I think she's sick. She has stomach problems.
Mae: Yeah.. she can't stomach the sight of the bug. LET'S GOOOOOOOO.

Once in the car.

Marge: She's tired. She wants a nap.
Mae: Mom, it's 930am. She doesn't nap for several more hours.
Marge: She isn't herself today. And she's yawning.
Mae: Mom, she's fine. She'll perk up once we get to Grant's Farm.
Marge: See? She yawned again. Oh, poor baby! She's exhausted!
Mae: Mom... she's fine. We're going....
Marge: (sighs) I think you're wrong.. but.. whatever....

Narnia does not fall asleep in the car and screams with delight when we pull up to Grant's Farm.

After the visit, as we board the tram to go home.

Marge: Here, move. Move now.
Mae: What?
Marge: THe lady in the seat behind us. Her friends are in the seat in front of you. (Turns to lady) Here, miss, we'll move so you can sit behind your friends.
Mae: Mom, I just got settled and got Narnia seated.
Marge: Miss, we're moving so you can sit with your friends.
Lady: Oh. Uh. No. That's ok. I'm fine here.
Marge: No.. we're moving so you can sit with your friends.
Mae: (sighs) Mom, it's difficult to move everything with Narnia....
Marge: But she wants to sit with her friends!
Lady: I don't know... those...
Marge: (Grabs Narnia and takes her off the tram)
Mae: Guess we're moving.
(The Lady takes our former seat and sits there, staring blankly ahead.
Mae: She doesn't know those people.
Marge: WHAT?
Mae: Mom, she doesn't even know the people in front of us.
Marge: WELL! I thought she did. I thought I'd be nice to her.

After Grant's Farm at restaurant:

Marge: (As Mae bites into sandwich) Aren't you going to give her your tomatoes?
Mae: No. She got two tomatoes on her own sandwich.
Marge: Yes, but, shouldn't you give her your tomatoes, too?
Mae: She won't eat my tomatoes. She'll barely eat her own tomatoes.
Marge: Still...
Mae: No, Mom, I want my tomatoes, thank you.
Marge: You won't even give your tomatoes to your own daughter?
Mae: (keeps eating)
Marge: FINE! I'll give her MY tomatoes. (Hands tomatoes to Narnia.) Here you go, honey. Omi gave you HER tomatoes.

Narnia did not eat any of the tomatoes.

After the restaurant, Mae picks up Narnia to put her into bed.

Mae: Here we go, Narnia, Let's spend 45 minutes trying to convince you to nap.
Marge: OH! How could you say that to her?
Mae: Huh?
Marge: That's SO MEAN!
Mae: Because it takes her at least 45 minutes to fall asleep no matter what we try.
Marge: Yes, but that's so MEAN to tell HER that! Look at her. Don't you think you have the most precious daughter?!
Mae: Yes.... but... huh?
Marge: Don't you appreciate how smart and cute she is?
Mae: What are you getting at?
Marge: You should be thankful you have such a good daughter.
(Narnia begins to arch her back and scream for Marge.)
Mae: Narnia, I am going to put you to bed.
Narnia: (hits Mae and screams, "Noooooo!! Want Omi, want Omi!!!"
Mae: (sighs) This is not good.
Marge: HERE! Let me do it! You obviously don't want to!
Mae: Yeah, Mom, you're right. I don't want to sit with a child who hits me and freaks out and cries for 45 minutes. Would anyone? (Phone begins to ring. Mae leaves the room.)

Five minutes later

Mae: Of course. Of course she fell asleep instantly.
Marge: Well, she could sense you had better things to do.
Mae: Better things to do???
Marge: She knows you have other things you want to do.
Mae: Other things I HAVE to do, you mean? Like talking to a client on the phone?
Marge: You can't handle one child, what are you going to do with two?
Mae: (stares at Marge)
Marge: I have to go. I have to work EXTREMELY long hours tomorrow and Saturday. ON my feet, ALL DAY LONG. I need my rest NOW. Is there anything else you need from me?

Marge walks away while Mae wonders why a simple family outing to an animal park can end up this way. Every. Single. Time. And why she's so stupid for thinking that just once, just once, it will be different.

Disclaimer- if any of you post that I should be grateful I have a mother, grateful she helped me during the PPD, and grateful my mother helps so I can have a career, so help me god, I will trace your IP address, track you down, and go postal on your narrow minded, head up your ass.. ass.

Oh look, Mae's frustrated. Deal with it.

Take my paper and shove it up your ass

2005-09-21T13:32:00.000-05:00

I'm not a happy little city resident at the moment.

We live in a la de da neighborhood of the city. We moved here before the neighborhood went West County on our asses. Everyone here has lots of money or lots of time. As a result, the lawns look like something you'd find at a botanical garden. Except our lawn. Why? Well, we have one of the biggest front lawns in the entire neighborhood and that's not an exaggeration. Where most neighbors have a postage stamp for a yard, we have the entire post office.

When you have a postage stamp yard, it's easy to keep it landscaped and gorgeous year round. When it's about 6 lawns put together, it takes a lot more effort. We put in enough effort to not get a ticket. The lawn is mowed. There are flowers along the front that are kept neat and weed free. There are tasteful bushes that are not overgrown. It's very simple.

We get two free newspapers delivered twice a week on our lawn. Sometimes it takes us a few days to pick up our papers because we never use our front lawn. We never set foot on our front porch, even. Our garage is in the back. Our front lawn is pretty much useless to us. So a few days go past before we even remember a newspaper has been thrown on the lawn.

Lately, some persnickety neighbor has been placing our papers on the front porch. They are not being kind. They are doing it so we get the message and pick up our damn papers. This person cannot stand to walk past our house and see a wrapped newspaper sitting on the lawn for more than two days.

And of course, the papers sit on our front porch longer than this oh so helpful neighbor would appreciate, too.

Well today this neighbor thought they'd be clever. They decided to place the paper on the front porch and then open up the screen on our screen door a few inches. That way, we'd open our front door, notice the screen door was open, and when we leaned down adjust the screen, we'd see the papers.

I figured this out because Matt did not open the screen. I did not open the screen. Marge did not open the screen. The mailman did not open the screen. THe neighbor kids did not open the screen. The screen did not open itself. You almost have to force the thing open. ONly an adult could do it. This morning, it wasn't open and there were no papers. Hours later, it's open and look, there's the papers.

I took the papers inside and called the newspaper and asked them to stop the free delivery. Then I wrapped the papers and placed them back on the lawn.

I will NOT be told how to live my life. Our house is fine. The yard is fine. THe papers were sitting there two days, today included. I will not let some uptight bitch try to control me. She can sick the block captain on us. Won't she be shocked to find out WE ARE THE BLOCK CAPTAINS! We know the rules. We understand and we follow them. But damn, we're human and sometimes, sometimes, SOMETIMES there are things far more important than picking up our fucking newspaper!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh my god, I'm going to bust my spleen, I'm so pissed off right now.

She's got class

2005-09-20T14:13:00.000-05:00

We need a new term for, "stay at home mom." When Narnia and I stay home, we go crazy. Right now, our calendar looks like a chicken with painted feet walked across the thing. Each square is filled with activies.

Like today, for example. Narnia had her very first class at The Magic House, which is a children's museum here in St. Louis. THe Magic House offers art, science, and movement classes for toddlers, which is unusual. Not many places want to take on toddlers.

Narnia had a great time until the teacher put Elmo in the center of a parachute and had us bounce him around. Narnia almost clawed her way onto the parachute to save him. When she couldn't reach him, she flew over to the teacher and began tugging on her pants to get her to stop. Then Narnia fell to the floor and cried until the teacher stopped everything and handed her the Elmo.

And now we see why very few places offer classes to toddlers.

Oops, diva is up from her 1 hr and 20 minute nap (AHHHH!) gotta run.

Is Mr. Clean available?

2005-09-19T13:21:00.000-05:00

I'm looking for some information and wondering if you can help.

When it comes to at home cleaning services, what should I be looking for aside from just the price?

I am trying to find out if it's better to go with a large service or a small service or an individual? My concern is with background checks and insurance matters.

Can anyone give me any insight into this?

Thank you

Yard for sale

2005-09-18T13:12:00.000-05:00

We had a yard sale this weekend. Who actually likes holding yard sales? THEY SUCK to run. Your stuff's laying all over the yard. People are picking through it, offering you insulting prices for items you once cherished.

Matt and I learned the rules of the game with our first garage sale years ago. This time, we marked everything sky high, knowing people would try to dick us down as low as they could. Sure enough, when their offers came in, they gave us exactly what we wanted for each item.

Oh, and how about having a yard sale with an energetic almost 2 year old? Fun fun fun. Combine her energy with the kiddos next door, who were also holding their yard sale in conjunction with ours. It was madness from 7am-1pm.

But we made $350 bucks. Living on a busy street finally paid off. No ads, no signs, just traffic. We almost completely sold out. We were putting stuff away and people kept stopping by. One lady came to our back door and asked if we still had some items left, which she purchased.

And now the storage room is cleaned out of all the crap we'll never use again.

Oh, and this one dude offered to buy our HOUSE. Too bad his offer was 20 grand below what it's worth. He was ready to give us 10 grand in cash to hold the place. Let us enjoy our recent 6500 dollar heat and AC unit. Let us enjoy the 1200 garage door. Let us enjoy the yard which will be free of 3 grand worth of trees.

Stupid houses. Big money pits.

And now, it's back to reading Christmas messages. Oh yeah, my Christmas begins in early September. And you guys wonder why I hate Christmas so much? A two day holiday lasts four months long. Hooray.

Stupid trees

2005-09-16T15:50:00.000-05:00

Let's play good news bad news.

Bad news first.

The bad news is that is will cost over 3 grand to deal with the trees in our front yard. One is dying and needs to be removed. The second one, the one that had a limb that went boom, will cost over 800 dollars to trim.

The good news is that the cyst of my ovary is benign.

Zicam, I think I love you

2005-09-15T13:34:00.000-05:00

My husband has a fantasy.

In the fantasy, he has come home from work with the beginnings of a cold.

I greet him at the door, cup of hot soup in one hand, Vicks Vapo Rub in the other, a look of concern on my face. I pat his back, take his coat, and lead him to bed where I tuck in him gently and turn on CNN. Then I bring him his laptop and for as long as the cold lasts, I am there for him, showing all my wifely support until he gets well again.

And then he woke up.

Welcome to reality, Matthew.

Matt walks through the door with the beginnings of a cold. As soon as I hear that he is sick, I say, "OH GREAT, who did this to you? It was the daycare parents again, wasn't it? God, when are they going to get fired or transfered to another department? I'm so sick of you bringing home cold after cold. Oh and it's always them. Their stupid daycare kids, getting sick over all over the place. GEEZ!"

Wife storms out of the room. Matt follows weakly, sneezing the whole way.

"Oh would you PLEASE stop doing that? GOD, I cannot afford to get sick right now! This is my busy season! Stay away from me, I cannot get sick do you hear me!!!!"

And then I begin twitching ala Tweak from South Park, head to the bedroom, get under the covers and curl into the fetal position. All while moaning, "I can't get sick. I can't get sick. I just cannot get sick!"

Matt's so glad he married me.

We haven't been sick in this house since March. It's been pure bliss. Oh but now germy little kids are back in school. Colds are flying all around again. And Matt HAD to come home with one.

Enter Zicam. Oh Zicam, will you marry me? Zicam was suggested by our beloved dentist, Dental King. He said to take it as soon as you feel a cold coming on. If it doesn't zap away the cold, it will make the cold less powerful.

He was right! As soon as I started sniffling, I popped a Zicam. I continued to pop them as directed. And yes, yes, yes, YES! I barely feel my cold. Up until today, I was able to record scripts like nothing ever happened. Today is the worst of the cold, so I'm sounding a bit like Oscar in his trash can. But at least I'm not in bed, crying because I can't move my head. Which is what usually happens when I get a simple little cold. It's never a simple little cold for me.

I had to be born with this freaky talent of being able to read out loud and sound oh sooooo marketable. I'm grateful I can make hundreds, if not thousands of dollars (on a good day, a REALLY good day) per hour. But damn if cold season isn't the biggest fear of voice talents from coast to coast. My competition is lurking in the wings, Zicam clutched in one hand, demo clutched in the other.

And now, so am I. Take that, cold germs! Zicam's on my side.

*Today's blog entry is not brought to you by Zicam or the makers of Zicam. But it should be. I'm waiting for my endorsement deal, Zicam people!

Educate me

2005-09-14T10:02:00.000-05:00

Here is a question for you.

This is inspired by my friend who is a blogger. She's the type who says whatever is on her mind. No censoring. Her blog is the type that should attract all the loonies to argue with her. But she never gets them. She asked how come she never gets rude comments in her blog, but I seem to attract them like crazy. She wants to know why.

It's always the most mundane posts that get the odd comments, too. I could post here that I love the look of fresh, green grass in the springtime. And some yahoo is will come here and say, "HOW COULD YOU! Don't you know that fresh green grass is the leading cause of hampster deaths in China?" Or how about, "Actually, grass doesn't appear in the springtime and it's not techinically GREEN." I don't know what it is, but I seem to attract people who feel the need to tell me how it is, homie.

For example- I posted that how in MY playgroup, the boys play with trains and the girls play with dollies. Someone posted that I'm sexist. ME? Those snot nosed kids are sexist, not me. HAH, humor... humor, people. Humor. So you can see why I read the comments sometime and go, "WHAT THE FUCK?"

Is it because a majority of my readers come from an extremely conservative area of the country? My friend is in Los Angeles and so are most of her readers. They tend to be more laid back, more accepting of differing opinions. More accepting of wacky people? Do you think that makes a difference?

For those who blog- Have you ever had an issue with rude comments in your blog? Have you ever been "attacked" for something you said? What do you do when people post comments that really shouldn't have been said "out loud?" Do you get rude comments, too?

Or, are you someone who enjoys posting "rude" comments in people's blogs? What motivates you to do so?

In the past, I've said some sassy things about the types of people I observe on a daily basis. I know people of that type or associated with that type or whatever- have taken it personally. That I can sort of understand. What I don't get is that I always get the oddest comments from my mommmy posts. Grocery store posts. Gym posts. The boring shit that tends to stir up the hornet's nest. A Margeism!

People are funny. Without you, I'd be bored.

Backpack, backpack

2005-09-13T14:58:00.000-05:00

I completely embarassed the Babysitting Mafia the other day. And for that, I'm so proud.

I had hired them to escort me to the mall and watch Narnia while I ran a Very Imporant Errand.

Oh hush. Bath and Body Works shopping IS Very Important.

I paused for a moment outside of the mall's entrance to strap on my backpack.

The Mafia had a cow, man.

Let me back track a minute and explain the backpack. The moms in my MILFy mom group all wear backpacks. Our kids are over the diaper bag stage, yet still need all the crap that cannot fit into purses. We need our hands free to hold sippie cups in one hand and cheerios in the other while our cell phones are wedged between our cheeks and shoulders. It's for the active moms who don't understand the term, "Stay at home mom," because when are we ever at home?

Hence, the backpacks.

My friend Britney started the trend with her gorgeous Pucci backpack. I gasped when I saw it. "BRITNEY! You have a Pucci backpack!" Britney said, "Huh?" I pointed out the label and she shrugged. "I have no idea what that means." Oh my god.. Britney...

Desperate attempts to find my own Pucci back pack ended with me buying a darling little black leather pack that held maybe my cell phone and a credit card. Hmm... no room for 20 diapers, wipes, treats, bibs.... ok, plan B. Then along came the sensible black and pink hiker's back pack. Which I now take with me everywhere I go. Wow, I can't even remember the days when I carried an itty bitty purse...

So I'm strolling into the mall with my backpack and the Mafia are just standing there, refusing to move. I ask, "What's wrong, girlies? They reply, "We are NOT going into the mall with you wearing a BOOK BAG!" I corrected them by saying it's a backpack, not a book bag. They argued with me that no... it was a book bag and how embarassing to carry a BOOK BAG into the mall!!

I said, "Tough shit, girls. It's what all the hot moms are wearing these days. Didn't you get the memo?" They just rolled their eyes and stayed about ten paces ahead of me, so no one would know we were together.

As someone who spent a great deal of her life in Colorado, when I see a backpack, I think- hiking. I don't think- bookbag. I don't even think- diaper bag. But it's useful. It's easy. It's convenient. And at this stage in my life, that's all that matters.

Sorry, Mafia.

Firetuck go wooo wooo woo!

2005-09-11T12:35:00.000-05:00

Narnia is obsessed with firetrucks.

This replaces her previous obsession with frogs.

Which replaces the obsession with turtles.

Which replaces the obsession with snakes.

We're so proud of our son.

JOKING! (Remember, I have to say that before someone accuses me of being SEXIST.)

heh.

Last night, Matt was changing Narnia's diaper before bed because it's the weekend and on the weekends, Daddy has Diaper Duty.

They were doing their usual routine of, "No poop for you," when a firetruck came blaring by.

Narnia said, "No poop for.. FIRETUCK!"

So they went to the window to watch the firetruck. And then for the next half hour, it was non stop firetruck talk.

"Narnia, time for bed."

"Firetuck! Firetuck go WOO WOO WOO! WOO WOOO!"

"I know, honey, that's great. But it's time for bed."

"Firetuck! Fireman wear hat! Firetuck BIG! Firetuck wooo woo wooo woo!"

And so it went until we finally convinced her the firetruck went night night and so should she.

"Firetuck home. Firetuck go night night."

Today we went to the Great Firetruck Rally in downtown St. Louis. About 50 or more firetrucks from all over the city and country went down Market street with the lights and sirens going while crowds gathered to wave them on.

It was quite a sight.

I pictured the people in the surrounding highrise apartments, waking up to hearing 50 plus fire engines blaring and thinking it was 9/11 part two.

We held Narnia while she stared, eyes wide, and muttered, "Firetuck. Firetuck big. Firetuck woo woo. WOAH!"

On the way back to the car, we purchased a little toy firetruck.

Narnia is one happy little girl.

Special

2005-09-10T14:16:00.000-05:00

OOOOH! There's something new in Mr Dude's yard today. If you don't know what the hell I'm talking about, skip down to the previous post.

It's a sign and it says that Dude's house is featured on this year's house tour.

It's not just me who thinks he's special.

For those who don't know what I'm talking about- each "special" neighborhood of St. Louis offers up a few "special" houses and you can buy tickets to tour each "special" home for a real "special" experience. It's a way for we poor people to peek into the lives of the rich and feel envious because they can afford decorators and high priced crap and we can't.

Tickets are usually around $15.00. Which discourages the hoi polloi from attending.

That would be us.

I'm tempted to go. I want to see the inside of this house. Don't you? Want to come with me?

I'm a little scared of Mr. Dude, I have to admit. He's big. I think he may have mafia connections. The Babysitting Mafia? Could be.

I'm a little scared someone who knows Mr Dude is going to show him my blog entries. and one day Mr Dude will come knocking on my door, demanding I compliment him on his raincoat wearing goose.

Mrs. Dude would be the ultimate weapon. I'm REALLY scared of her. It's the hair. I don't trust anyone with feathered hair.

Here's something else you local yokels will appreciate.

I completed my shopping for our Halloween costumes today. This makes my friend Britney sigh and roll her eyes and say, "We've got six weeks!"

Yessssss... but.... if you get it done NOW, then it's DONE. Last minute Halloween shopping results in you going to parties with a sheet wrapped around your body and leaves from the silk plant in your mom's living room taped to your head.

Narnia and I are going as matching butterflies to the parties. Matt is going as a bug collector. We are going trick or treating as a family of glow worms complete with glow sticks taped to our bodies. Go ahead, steal the idea. I know it's brilliant.

Johnny Brock's is this famous costume shop here in St. Louis. We went today and found dozens of kiddie and adult butterfly wings. ANd yet... NO antennae. Not one pair in the whole shop.

This does not make sense to me.

The employees of Johnny Brock's also seemed baffled. As one girl said, "We have butterfly costumes but no butterfly antennae?

Yes, and now you see why I am looking flustered.

That meant a trip to the party store. If you're local, shop there first. The prices are lower then JB's. Not as much selection, but if you go now, you are sure to find what you are looking for.

Narnia and I purchased hats for her New Year's birthday party. Mine is a top hat covered in pink marabou. Her hat is a birthday cone covered in white silk, topped with pink marabou that reads, "Princess."

This would be a good time to remind my friends that as long as you know us, you will always have plans for New Year's. We are the first stop on your New Year's party tour. Sort of like the "special" house tour. With cake. And noise makers.

Getting back to Halloween- Here's a new trend in packaged costumes. It seems employees of the packaged costume companies are getting ideas from club and private costume parties. The selection is quite fun and a lot more creative than I've ever seen. We really loved the guy dressed as a present with a tag that reads, "To: Ladies. From: God." (God's gift to women.)

That has been my Saturday so far.

Won't you be my neighbor?

2005-09-09T20:17:00.000-05:00

OH! I need to tell you what's going on with our neighbor!

Just to refresh your memory-

We have a new neighbor. He has moved up in the neighborhood from one of the modest homes to one of the chi chi homes on just the right street.

Dude's got money to burn. The problem is that he truly is burning it on useless crap for his yard. Hmm.. let me rethink this. Is it a waste of money when the neighbors drive by, stare, point, and laugh? That's quality entertainment. And that's worth every burnt penny.

Dude has gone overboard with the front yard lawn decor. There's fountains (plural) and a waterfall. There's big stuffed chairs decorated with his company's logo. The landscaping makes me think of the flower and plant arrangements you'd see at a theme park. Big, big, lots of everything that can grow, everywhere! And how about the sizeable goose with the outfits you can change to match the seasons. Who the fuck has time to dress up a statue goose, you may ask? I've known people who do this. I can't explain them.

Dude's house was starting to become the most interesting thing that's happened to our neighborhood in years.

In this here blog, I predicted we'd soon see:
Statues
A flag pole
A boat parked in the driveway

Dude did not let me down. Soon the animal statues came to guard his front walkway. Placed on pedestals, no less! Then came the flagpole and (shock) neighborhood flag, not the American flag as I had pictured. NOt on my list were the lawn lights. Dozens and dozens and dozens of expensive, top of the line lawn lights. So many that it looks like he's decorating for a Christmas display. There's no boat.. yet... but there was one accessory that has completely made my year.

The wife.

Oh, she's the best ornament in that whole yard.

With her parted in the middle and feathered from here to there hair, her ripped up Harley Tshirt, her too tight, too short cut offs that cut off the circulation in her fleshy thighs, and the cigarette that dangles from the corner of her mouth. Mrs Dude rocks the lawn. I love her.

I also love that the neighbors must be beside themselves with worry right now. What's next? There's not much lawn left. What will Mr and Mrs Dude do now?

I can't wait to find out.

Terrible Twos

2005-09-09T14:28:00.000-05:00

Here's something parents of children never warn you about.

The terrible twos? They start way before the child turns two.

Narnia is now 20 months and there are days when I want to walk out the door and keep going until I get far into the Colorado mountains and hide until she's 30.

We are now butting heads. I swear, she was sent to earth to pay me back for everything bad I ever did to my parents.

The good thing is that her best friend's mother is going through the same thing. Britney and I met today at another 2 year old's birthday party. We stood together at the snack area and she whispered to me, "Hannah's being the most obnoxious bitch on earth today."

Oh good, so glad it's not just me who thinks those thoughts about their own kid. And has the balls to say them out loud.

Narnia has learned to be manipulative. She plays each family member against one another to get what she wants. Oh yes, she already knows how. She's stubborn. She loves being yelled at because she enjoys watching us melt down. And now Narnia's starting to get bitchy with her friends. Her latest thing at playdates is push children out of the way of what she feels is hers and tell them, "NO!" Again- very normal. I've seen it a million times at play groups.

I just hate that it's my kid who's acting this way.

Cuz just last month, she was so damn adorable. What happened?

Britney just laughs when I complain and says, "Welcome to the terrible twos. I'm so glad you're finally there. NOW you understand!"

Today's party was actually very sweet. It was held in a gorgeous home in the city. The mom made tutus for the girls and capes for the boys. She made quiche for the moms and cupcakes for the kids. There was finger painting and lots of fun. But Narnia, oh Narnia. She just wanted to break down and freak out and be mean to the others and when I saw the pained looked on the other mom's faces, I took her home. The hostess escorted us to the door, handed us a bag where she had painted Narnia's name on it, and filled with Elmo goodies, and I aplogized and felt awful that it was my kid who was acting that way.

It's a toddler thing, I know. They are trying to learn who they are and how the world works. The problem is that they don't care, or aren't aware of who they step on along the way to get to that place of understanding.

So when your boss acts that way or your friend or someone in your family- just think of them as a toddler who never grew up.

Oh, and let me just state this for the record- I love Narnia no matter what's happening. Terrible twos or not, she's my world.

Just thought I'd put that in there because people can be so flippin weird and misread and get all huffy and defensive. It's sad I have to do that. But it's either dislaimer myself silly, or risk a comment battle later on.

Cure my disease

2005-09-07T17:36:00.000-05:00

WELL WELL WELL. FINALLY. FINALLY. FINALLY!

I'm not crazy. My hormones are.

This is a new GYN for me. He came highly recommended by Dental King. I've found that Dental King never steers me wrong with his suggestions about... anything, really! Way to go, Dental King!

As you know, I have PCOS. Poly cystic ovarian syndrome. It's a nasty little syndrome that takes over one's reproductive system. It causes all kinds of horrible symptoms including weight gain and being unable to lose or maintain a healthy weight.

For years, doctors have told me this, "If you lose weight, the PCOS will go away. Just try to diet and excersize, and it will go away."

And for years, I've tried. Oh, I've tried. I've worked my ass off only to find it expanding. I've put tiny meals in my stomach only to find my stomach getting bigger and bigger. And no one believes me. They think all I do is cram my face with food and then lay around all day long. Oh sure, I indulge, everyone does. But not enough to be this weight. Not at all.

I went into the appointment expecting this new doctor to say the exact same thing. Lose weight and you'll be fine. Lose weight and the PCOS will go away. It's not the PCOS, it's you. You're a big lazy pig. OINK!

When his nurse weighed me, I had to hold back the tears. I weight more now than I did when I was 9 months pregnant with Narnia. I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom where I sat there and cried and cried. How could this be? I gained 15 pounds in one week. I've done nothing different. I spend my mornings running all over the Zoo and Botanical Garden. I work out HARD when I put Narnia to bed EVERY SINGLE DAY. I only eat one pig out meal on the weekends. There is NO REASON for this high of a weight. None. You eat more than me. Trust me, you do.

The doctor wanted to meet with me in his office first. I got in there and sat down and braced myself for a weight/diet/excersise lecture. Instead, I was totally shocked when he told me the following:

PCOS is a disease and it's VERY serious.
PCOS is the reason for my weight. Period.
PCOS is the reason I am frequently depressed and/or anxious.
I do not need anti depressants, special diets, or excessive exercise.
The only way I am going to lose weight is to control the PCOS.
The only way I am going to control the moodiness is to control the PCOS.
If I don't do something soon, the PCOS is going to spiral out of control.
In fact, it's already started.
PCOS is much more serious than the doctor's first recognized.
ALL women who have PCOS need treatment, because it's very, very serious.

So what is the treatment? For me, it means taking a birth control pill that will shut down my ovaries. I will be taking a three month pill- periods every three months, YEAH! It should keep my hormones at one constant level. And also, taking Metformin, which is a drug that controls diabetes. I do not have diabetes. Women with PCOS have insulin resistance. Which is why the weight gain is so severe.

One drug alone does not control the PCOS. You need both. Unless, of course, you want to get pregnant. Which I don't.

For many years, doctors believed one or the other method of PCOS control was fine. But now they are learning that you need both.

There is no cure for PCOS.
The weight won't completely go away, but it will get better.
So will the moods.

And the right ovarian cyst that won't go away? I have an ultrasound next week. He feels the pills will help. And if they don't we have some treatment options to look at before surgery. But it all depends on the ultrasound.

Oh please oh please, let these pills be the answer. I'm tired of my weight. I'm tired of working so hard and eating so little and weighing so much. I'm tired of the moods and the depression and the fatigue, so much fatigue all the time.

I just want to be normal again.

Whatever that is!

New doc, lots of hope

2005-09-06T20:09:00.000-05:00

I'm worried.

I have a cyst on my ovary. It won't go away. That's not good. Not good at all. It could mean something. Something bad. Very very bad. Or it could just be a stupid cyst that will only go away with surgery.

Regardless, I'm in this awful head space where I fear the worst. The, "You have Cancer and we need to begin aggressive treatment right away," dreams are not helping.

It might be a few days or weeks until I know what's going to happen.

I have issues with my reproductive system. It's something I've known for a few years now. And back then, the goal was to help bring a new life into the world. Now, the goal is to keep my life going.

I sure hope this new doc has some answers for me.

Because I have a lot to live for.

Poop.

2005-09-03T20:21:00.000-05:00

Remember the Soup Natzi from Seinfeld? "No soup for you!"

When Matt changes Narnia's diaper, he tells her, "No poop!"

And Narnia answers, "No poop for you!"

This is what happens when daddies get Diaper Duty on the weekends. Come Monday I get all kinds of surprises when it's diaper time.

MSG is the vanilla of spices in China

2005-08-30T13:58:00.000-05:00

My husband was headed to the grocery store. On the way out I stopped him and said, “Add some ice cream to the list. I am sick of the frozen yogurt we’ve been eating. Get some of the good stuff. Something fun!”

Matt returned and I didn’t see him unpack the groceries. Later in the day, I asked him what he had purchased. “Chocolate chip,” he answered.

“WHAT? Chocolate chip! That’s not FUN!” I said in a huff.

Matt looked confused, “Chocoate chip isn’t fun? It’s more fun than vanilla.”

I then asked what brand of the exciting oooh god hold me back chocolate chip ice cream he had purchased.

“Healthy Choice.”

I stared at him for a long moment before saying,“ARE you kidding me? NO, really. Healthy Choice. That’s your idea of FUN? Or is there a hidden meaning in there somewhere?”

Matt looked completely confused, “We like Healthy Choice ice cream.”

“Matt, when have we ever purchased Healthy Choice ice cream?”

“The Girl Scout Mint Cookie ice cream!” he insisted.

“No,” I said with a sigh, “Honey, that is certainly NOT a Healthy Choice. It’s Edys.”

“Oh ok. Well it’s still more fun than vanilla.”

The Healthy Choice ice cream? Tastes exactly like the frozen yogurt we’ve been eating. Exactly.

See, this is yet another reason I don’t think Matt would ever cheat on me. And if he DID, she’d be on the chocolate chip level of women. Not the turtle fudge brownie women. Not the Butterfinger fudge crunch women. Not even the raspberry cheesecake swirl women. She’d be just one step up from vanilla.

I’d have nothing at all to worry about at all.

Matt’s daughter has spent most of the morning in front of the mirror while wearing butterfly wings and chewing pretzels with her mouth open. She’s fascinated with how that looks.

Matt’s wife has spent the morning asking how to survive in China for two weeks when one is deathly allergic to MSG. Hey! Great! Didn’t even think about that one, now did I? All this time I’ve been worried about taking Narnia to China when I’m the one who really should be worried. I am learning how to say, “I am very allergic to MSG, no MSG please,” in Chinese. I have a card that says that phrase that I can take with me to restaurants. According to those who’ve just gotten back, even the eggs in the all American buffet at our hotel are smothered in MSG.

Epi Pen, anyone?

I think I’ll go join Narnia in front of the mirror now.

Not that kind of meat

2005-08-28T14:42:00.000-05:00

On Saturday we attended our first of many 2 year old birthday parties coming up in the next few months. Before we left the house, I said to Narnia, “Narnia, we’re going to a party!” She jumped off the couch and began yelling, “PARTY! PARTY! PARTY!” Then she danced in circles with her arms over her head and said, “Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee paaaaaaaaaaaaarty!”

Oh, she’s nothing like me. Not at all.

Narina is officially my daughter. She loved every single aspect of the birthday party. She loved dining at the kid’s table. She loved the piñata. She loved the gift bags. She loved twirling around and around the host’s living room. You would think the party was being held for her.

When we left, Narnia was stumbling around with a lampshade on her head and saying, “I love you guys! Let’s hug it out, bitches!”

Again, nothing at all like her mother.

Inspired, I spent Sunday shopping for Narnia’s birthday party. Which is New Year’s Eve. Which is many months away. BUT I was in the mood. And I’ve learned since having kids that when you’re in the mood, you do whatever you’re in the mood for at that exact moment. Cuz soon, that mood will pass and might not come back again anytime soon.

Let’s see.. what else to report?

Oh, yes. Narnia is now 20 months old. She is the slow kid out of all her friends. All of her buddies can speak in complete sentences and were potty trained by 18 months.

Little, freaky, advanced children who are probably mini robotic aliens sent to take over the world.

Narnia is a completely normal 20 month old. Her favorite phrase is now, “Hit daddy in head!” Her potty seat is used to store her toy snakes. And she’d rather spend her days twirling around the house wearing my undies on her head.

Oh geez, my daughter is the Tara Reid of toddlers.

OK, perhaps, “normal” was the wrong choice of words.

Narnia is now hooked on The Backyardigans, thanks to our friend Miss Kitty. We even play their music CD in the car and joyfully sing along.

Another big show in this house is Between the Lions on PBS. I'm probably the only person on the planet who can say that their favorite song of the moment is, "Homophones" by Brian Mcknight.

I read this book
It's red, come look
A book about a special love
Homophones

Right here, you'll hear
Two words that sound the same
But don't look the same
Here's the name
Homophones

I know there's no one else
Who loves them so

You're right, let's write these words
All day and night
They're out of sight

Yes, they're so sweet
That's why we always meet
Not that kind of meat
But you can't beat
Homophones

Two words that sound the same
But they're not spelled the same
Homophones

Check it out. And then be sure to watch Chicken Jane. I'm so pleased that someone realizes that parents are stuck watching kiddie shows, too.

Nuts

2005-08-26T14:57:00.000-05:00

The St. Louis online/blog scene right now is just WOOOOOOO- WAH-KEE! Wocka wocka WOW wacky!

A special shout out to one of my blogging Sistahs who's going through a rough time online right now.

Ahh blogging. You share yourself and get torn apart enough times and you soon discover you don't feel like taking the beatings anymore.

I've seen too many people alter their blog style in response. I hope she doesn't do that.

Unforunately, the idiots shout louder than the nice people.

Good weekend, yall.

2005-08-24T13:17:00.000-05:00

Bad water, bad food, diseases, rabies, and scabies, OH MY!

Those are just some of the warnings posted in our China travel guide from the adoption agency.

Talk about a downer, maaan.

I know those realities exist. I'm thankful for the education. We will be vaccinated and we will take all precautions. But I just want to enjoy our upcoming trip, not dread or fear the experience.

I’ve made an appt with a doctor who specializes in overseas adoption care. I am going to sit with her and ask her really, seriously, truly, taking Narnia with us- good idea or not? Because truthfully, we have no one to leave her with for two weeks. Marge is not an option, don’t even go there. Because I said so, that’s why. I’m getting really good at those typical mother come backs, aren’t I?

If the doctor says BAD BAD BAD idea, then Matt and I are going to have to come up with plan B.

Also- hey, what’s the deal with all the compliments on my weight loss? REALLY funny, considering I’ve gained ten pounds. I’ve had four comments in the past two weeks. One came today by the annoying old man in the neighborhood who traps you in your yard and won’t shut up. He walked past and said, “Slimming down, eh mom?” Didn’t even trap me in a stupid conversation about his Aunt Edna who always shops at the whatever store because they always have who cares on sale.

Senile old goat.

Yesterday, Narnia counted to six. I told our Parents as Teachers educator about that today and she didn't seem impressed. She was impressed by the fact that Narnia can climb up on the couch. I find that to be a bit backwards, but what do I know? The weight loss has made me senile, too.

Up next on the Travel Channel- Narnia

2005-08-22T18:45:00.000-05:00

Narnia needs her own travel show. That kid is the best little traveler.

We're home.

You know that film effect where the character center frame is standing still and everything around him is racing about at break-neck speed?

That's California.

Everyone and everything is whirling around, and I'm stuck in line at Ralphs.

It's so good to be home.

2005-08-22T09:16:00.000-05:00

I shall miss the ocean. Especially the dolphins and seals, bobbing around in the water.

I shall miss the cool weather. It's nice not to sweat.

I shall miss the sides of avocado because I like avocado.

I shall miss the Asian families. Especially the 80 year old couples, slowly crossing the busy streets without any fear.

I will not miss the traffic.

I will not miss that nervous feeling I get around my in laws.

Almost home and ready to be home!

Bay City Roller

2005-08-20T16:33:00.000-05:00

Right now I'm blogging with sand covered toes. I'm THAT talented.

Actually, the sand is leftover from a trip to the beach. You can envy me, but don't go overboard. While it's 70 degrees and sunny at the hotel, it's high 50s and freezing on the beach . Still, it's the ocean. Yeah, envy me.

Right now I am right across the street from Ebay. The Midwesterner in me actually squealed when I saw the giant Ebay headquaters sign. WHere's Google? Is it down the street? Ahhh now that would REALLY make my day.

The Bay Area does nothing for me. San Francisco isn't my thing either. Nice to visit, wouldn't want to live here.
We come here ever so often because of Matt's family.

The best part of the family visit is going to the beach. That sounds awful of me to say. I should say, "The best part is seeing the family," but come on. The beach wins out over anyone, anytime. Even Ebay.

Narnia's first plane ride was completely uneventful until landing when she screamed like she's never screamed before. First flight of the day. Nothing but business travelers. And of course, the typical comments like, "At least you know her lungs work." Yes, thank you, thank you SO MUCH, you helpful, helpful man in a tie. Now come here and let me tighten that thing until you question if YOUR lungs work.

Really funny thing happened when we got on the plane. Matt had to get Narnia's cat seat situated. I was holding her near a row with an elderly couple. I said to them, "Here ya go," and pretended like I was handing Narnia over. They made like they were moving over so we could climb in. I said, "No, we're not sitting here. You get to watch her for the entire trip, thanks." I'm sure they weren't amused but I loved it because they actually took me seriously for a second. Heh.

I then sat next to a couple with Narnia perched on my lap. The husband actually muttered, "Oh great. Just our luck." I smiled at him and said, "What did you do to deserve this, huh?" Then I stood up and got Narnia into her car seat a few rows up.

People do not like toddlers. I was that person before I had kids. Wait. I still don't like toddlers. I like my own toddler. She's a good kid. It's all those monsters that ruin it for her.

We're staying at a business type hotel and again, Narnia's the only kid here and again, we get frightened stares from the Silicon Valley business types. Acually, I think we are the only family with a child in the entire Bay Area. Maybe they're hidden away in the 500 thousand dollar starter homes.

Narnia has decided that the ocean is cold. When we ask if she wants to go to the beach, she says, "COLD! Hat! Coat!" Our first trip had her headed from the ocean straight to the boardwalk and to the car. It was too much for her. Eh, it was Santa Cruz. Hah, I accidently typed, "Santa Crazy." It was too much for mommy, too.

Second trip was Half Moon Bay. Now that's more my style. We saw a dolphin couple swimming together. We saw people riding horses along the shore. And we saw a whale. That was not a reflection of me in my swim suit, either.

Guess where we're going this afternoon? IKEA. Oh baby. OH BABY. ANd a stop at Jamba Juice. And you know how everything in St. Louis comes with a side of hot melted cheese? Everything here comes with a side of avocado.

It's a whole different world.

I wonder how my house sitter is doing? When polling various Californians about their favorite bloggers, the names Dock Slop and FLuid Pudding come up a lot. Guess which one is watching our house?

Time to go sit in traffic.

2005-08-17T13:50:00.000-05:00

13 year old Babysitting Mafia member Gabby arrived yesterday at my front door looking nothing like she did six months ago. Dark tan, long blonde streaked hair, belly revealing low cut tank top, short shorts, and metallic silver evening wear purse. I quickly ushered her into the house so the neighbors didn’t think I ordered a hooker for a little afternoon delight.

She immediately asked, “Guess what I did this summer?” I answered, “Grew boobs.” She smiled and said, “Aren’t they great?”

“No. No they are not great. They need to be hidden away until you’re 18, young lady.” To which Gabby replied, “I’ve got it, might as well flaunt it!”

Oh no. No no no no no no. I fear the future. I fear it, I fear it, I fear it. Oh, Narnia, you are going to be dressed head to toe in baggy gym clothes and that’s final.

Gabby and I headed to the mall where every single man over the age of 40 stared at her. Stared and almost walked into walls. Stared and almost fell over themselves and anyone around them. Oh that’s bad. Bad bad bad bad bad.

On the way home, Gabby spotted some of her guy friends riding bikes by the park. We pulled over so she could say hello. She got out of the car and the boys physically stepped back from her, then looked at her boobs, then looked at the ground, then looked at her boobs, then looked at the ground and finally kept their eyes on the ground.

Gabby bounced around, hugging them and laughing and talking about her summer. Two of the boys kept staring at the ground while one of the boys insisted he keep hugging her over and over again. Uh huh…

She climbed into the car and I informed her that boy had a major crush on her. She said, “Jim? Oh he’s just a friend!” I said, “Well, he wants to be more than friends.” Gabby said, “NO way! He got major zits this summer, blehhhh! I’d never go out with HIM!”

After we got home, Gabby asked if I had any friends who needed a babysitter. She said, “Their husbands will love looking at me!”

Oh lovely. That's nice. Good god did we act that way when we were 13?? Or does the mind forget when one has a daughter of her own?

C is for Care Bear

2005-08-16T14:08:00.000-05:00

DAMMIT!

I went to the optical shop to pick up my new presciption sunglasses. And guess what? They ugly. They so ugly, they fugly. And yes, you can use a pimp-ass accent when reading that description. Because it doesn't have the same dramatic effect when said by a 34 year old white woman.

I don't know WHAT I was thinking when I picked out those frames but yeeeeeeesh. And please don't say yeeeeeesh with a pimp ass accent because it doesn't work. I tried. It's funny, but it doesn't work.

This afternoon, the Babysitting Mafia and I are going back to the optical shop to select a new pair of sunglasses. The optical shop has a guarantee. If you don't like your glasses, and I sure as hell don't, you can get a different pair with no questions asked. Most importantly, no money spent.

Why am I bringing the Mafia? Because if the optical shop gives me any shit, Mafia Gabby with kick some ass. No, actually, it's because you cannot shop for glasses with a toddler. The Mafia will entertain her. And bonus, fashion advice from 13 year olds. If they so, "Oh you look so cute in those!" I'm gettin em. But I have to agree, too. I usually have excellent judgement, but not when my brain is so wheeeeeeeee like it is now.

It's SO worth 6 bucks an hour.

After that, I will record some voice overs so I can pay for the Mafia.

Oh, guess what Narnia did? She won a raffle at the neighborhood play group's preschool fair. The owners of the preschool delivered the giant Carebear to us today. They didn't even give me a sales pitch. They said my living room was.. interesting.... and then smiled and left. I kind of felt like a celebrity, like we should be posing for a pic with me holding the Carebear or something.

What's really odd is that Narnia got a mini Carebear in her kid meal at lunch today.

No, I guess that's not odd. Or really blog-worthy, to be honest. I'm really trying not be the kind of blogger that blogs about extremely boring shit. But think of it this way- when do I ever think of Carebears? I don't. I didn't know they still existed. And now today, two Carebears.

I grasping for straws, here.

Time to go.

Are they real or fake?

2005-08-15T14:21:00.000-05:00

I once had a radio show called, “Blonde Roots.” Because deep down, I’m a dingy blonde. I’m a ding bat. I was a ding bat when I had the radio show and I’m a ding bat now. I’ll be a ding bat when I’m 90.

I’m not stupid. I just have too much information swirling around in my brain. I know too many people, I do too many things, and I can’t be expected to be totally coherent day and night.

My friend Britney has to give me directions each time I go to her house. Matt had to give me directions to the adoption agency today. Even tho I've been there at least five times.

I just can't be expected to remember everything, now can I?

Take today, for instance. I stopped in to the optical shop to have my new eyeglasses adjusted. My new CHANEL eyeglasses adjusted. Because I’m special, remember? So special, that last week, I ordered prescription sunglasses. CHANEL prescription sunglasses. Again, you know, all together now, I’m special…

After I was adjusted, I visited the Chanel display to ooh and ahh over the non prescription sunglasses I now can’t afford BECAUSE I also purchased a pair of regular sunglasses. CHANEL sunglasses. Damn, I really AM special. Special Ed.

That’s when the sales dude who had helped me earlier made a phone call to someone, telling them their new glasses were in.

I said bye and went went la la la to my car and then home.

Where there was a message on my machine. From the sales dude at the optical shop. Telling me that my sunglasses were in.

He was calling my home as I stood in the shop.

And since I am such a dingy brain, I didn’t even think to ask him if my sunglasses had arrived. Nor did I tell him my name when I had my glasses adjusted.

So now I have to go BACK to the optical shop and pick up my sunglasses. CHAN- eh.. you know the rest.

And this sucks because I have SO MUCH ELSE going on in my life that I really can’t make time for another trip to the opical shop. Who really needs to just drive the glasses to me, for the amount I have spent. Seriously now.

So here is my question for you. This designer stuff- it gets tres expensive. How do YOU feel about designer replicas? You know- why should rich people have all the fun? Good? Bad? No way?

Here’s my take. I’m a big fan of handbags. I know a lot about designer hand bags for some strange reason. Because my brain needs more useless crap in it. But I do, and I find the info to be enjoyable. Especially when I spot someone carrying a designer bag. I like to slyly check out the bag to see if it’s a fake. And most of the time, it’s indeed fake.

There are two handbags I want to own. The Hermes Birkin which is 30 thousand dollars. FOR A BAG, I know! And the Louis Vuitton Cabas Monogram Glitter in pink and also in white. 4 grand each.

I have a friend in China who can get me both bags- mirror image replicas for a few hundred dollars. And I’m tempted because they are gorgeous bags. But at the same time, I know it’s silly because OBVIOUSLY I look like I cannot afford those bags. I’m climbing into a 23 thousand dollar car, for crying out loud. But they are gorgeous bags and I want one and I wouldn't care if people knew they were fake. They're nice bags. And I can't find anything else that's a non fake that I like better.

So yeah, this is the stupid shit I think about off and on during the day.

And now I’m making you think about it too. Because I can’t decide. Would I look silly carrying one of those bags? Or should I just say, what the hell? Have some fun! Have a piece of something I could never afford in this lifetime.

More Tees That Go Boom! All Down! Boom!

2005-08-15T13:39:00.000-05:00

Marge watched Narnia for me today while I was at the agency. I felt it was necessary, since we were going over such intense paperwork and toddlers don’t really enjoy paperwork. Unless they are scribbling on it or tearing it up.

When I got to Marge’s house, Narnia looked up as I walked through the door and her eyes lit up. She shouted, “MAMA!” and she reached her arms out for a hug. I pulled her into my arms and she gave me a big smooch and said, “I love you, Mama.”

OH!!! My baby girl!!

She’s starting to put words together and form little sentences. “What’s Mama got?” “Where’d Mowee go?” “Is Dada home?” “Narnia take bath!” “Mama, I poo poo!” I don’t know if she is on track for 19 months or ahead of the game, and I don’t care. I just love hearing her little voice.

We had an intense storm on Saturday. Narnia had just woken up from her nap and entered our office to see the trees bending and shaking in the high wind. She raised her hands in the air and shouted, “Tee!! Tee go BOOM! Tee fall down! All down! Tee BOOM!”

Then she asked about her friend, Hannah. “Hannah? Hannah home?” And I wondered if she was worried about Hannah’s safety?

After the worst had passed, I sat her in the open window and together we watched the rain and sang itsy bitsy spider. She then took turns hugging Matt, then me, over and over again. She patted our arms and said, “Awwww, Mama! Awwww, Dada!” Then she’d look up at the trees and tell us that tee go boom! All down, all down, boom!

The next morning, she woke up and led Matt by the hand into the TV room. She pointed to the windows and frantically narrated the previous day’s storm. Waving her hands in the air and telling him about the rain and of course, the tees that go boom.

I wonder if Narnia will ever get over having a tree limb fall on her room?

DTC

2005-08-15T11:45:00.000-05:00

Our dossier was just reviewed and accepted. A check, a very large check, has been given to the agency. Our dossier will be in China early next week. Then it will be translated and put into the system. We should have an early September log in date.

The agency says we should have our baby's picture in March and will travel to China in May.

That feels like forever. But I'm looking at it this way- it gives me 8 months of alone time with Narnia.

The paperwork is done. YES! DONE!

Try these

2005-08-13T15:12:00.000-05:00

Like Oprah, when I find a product I love, I have to tell the world.

Since I'm not Oprah, I can't tell the world, but I can tell the three people who read this website.

Sorry guys, this one's for the ladies.

Oh, before I begin- I'd like to ask your advice on something. Now that my hair is longer, I need a product that can be put in my hair once it is dry to give is some body and hold. A spray in product would be ideal. Something that gives it hold and bounce. I have a lot of hair, but it's fine. Any suggestions are appreciated.

Alrighty, here are some of my favorite things of the moment:

Are you like me and have to have something on your lips at all times? (Not chocolate. Or Johnny Depp. Sorry.) I have to have lip product on my lips day and night. I recently discovered a new lip product that is aaaaaamazing. And cheap!

Alba Terra Tints. About $2.50. Purchased from Whole Foods.
Oh love love love this product! It smells like peppermint, stays on even when eating, and moisturizes like crazy. It leaves more color than a normal lip tint. My color is Sienna and I can wear this stuff as if it's lipstick without that heavy or drying lipstick consistency. Comes in a typical "Chapstick" tube and I think four different colors. Excellent daytime color.

More lips, please.

Whole Foods has a brand of lip protector. It's just called Whole Foods Peppermint. $1.50. Strong peppermint smell, very refreshing. Not as conditioning as Alba Terra Tints but a great item for the purse or diaper bag for between lip touch ups. Only get if you like a powerful peppermint smell, which I do. I'm an Altoids kinda gal.

THe only other lip item that I've tried that stays on as long as Alba Terra Tints are the lip conditioners from Bare Escentuals. Both the Buzz Late and the regular flavor lasts a very long time. I use these at night and still have soft lips in the morning. And that's with a fan pointed at my face all night long. $8 from the Bare Escentual boutiques.

For those with kiddos-

We are space challenged in this house. We need toys that can be easily stored. If you have a toddler, you have to get anything made by Playhut. They make tunnels, tents, and ball pits. Skip the blow up jumpie items because they can easily get holes and tend to be VERY LARGE and take up a great deal of space. Go for the tents and tunnels. The kids LOVE them and the sets can fold up and store behind a couch.

I'd suggest the mega set for about 60 bucks at Toys R Us. With it you get two tents and several tunnels, plus a set of plastic balls. Get the additional $20 100 ball pack, too. The balls that come with the set are small. And we all know that small balls are no fun. Heh.

Skip the arcades until the kiddos get older. Fun for parents, not so much fun for those under 4.

The fire engine and school bus are fine, but they are about 30 bucks and only offer one "tent" to play in. Spend the extra 30 and get the mega set for lots of playtime options. It seems like it would be HUGE, but it can be set up so it doesn't take up a lot of space. Oh, and check for Playhut on Ebay. I recently purchased a 25 dollar set for 7 dollars.

Another item we discovered and love is the Fischer Price Fun Foldin Kitchen for $50 at Toys R Us. It's a kitchen set that can fold up and be stored in the closet or behind the couch. AHHH! Nice! This one is about as tall as a two and a half year old and has a sink and stove and phone. It comes with some pots and pans and odd looking plastic food. The bright orange macaroni and cheese is delightful! Get the add on food kit for $14 bucks.

We set this thing up in the living room and put a little plastic container next to it to hold the food items. Then we took another plastic container and turned it upside down and set it in the middle of the living room. Narnia uses that container as a table and sets it with glasses, milk, and plates of food. She then serves them to her dollies. When she's done playing, we load up all the food and pots and pans in the plastic containers for easy storage.

The best part is when she gets bored, we can store it for a few weeks and then bring it out and it's like having a new toy again. And it can hide away during play dates because it's only big enough for one child and that can cause issues with multiple children. So this might be a problem with siblings. I highly suggest getting one of these as a starter kitchen, before you invest 150 bucks in one of the larger kitchen sets.

Toys also carries a mini kitchen set that is great for grandma's house for 20 bucks. It can be stored in a box in Gma's closet. It's about 15 inches tall? Maybe about that high. Still, it's something that my daughter played with for over two hours while at Marge's the other day.

I'm always looking for helpful storage ideas, toys that can fold up and be put away, or anything useful for a small home. Keep me in mind if you discover anything.

Behold, the power of HOO HOOs!

2005-08-12T14:42:00.000-05:00

The title of this blog entry arrived by me entering a B into the title line above, and THAT popped up. I must have used that as a title in past blog entires. I don't recall what I had written, but it must have been good. Maybe I should do that from now on. Enter a letter, and choose a title from the cache.

Our adoption documents arrived this morning from the Chinese Consulate in Chicago. An appointment was immediately made with the adoption agency for next week to review our dossier (the collection of paperwork.) If everything looks good, our dossier is off to China. That is called being, "DTC." Dossier To China.

The next big goal is being, "LID," or having a, "Log In Date." The REAL 8 month countdown begins with our LID notice, which should come in about three-four weeks from now from Guagnzhou, China.

Guagnzhou, China. (Gwan-Joe) or, "GZ" for short. That's the final stop for all couples adopting from China. We have requested a baby from Guagnzhou because we'd like to spend our two weeks there at the White Swan Hotel (which can be googled.) Since we will be traveling with Narnia, we'd like to make our journey as simple as possible. Many people told us we're crazy, why not travel around China as much as possible? Those people don't have toddlers. Toddlers and a new baby who will be frightened of us and possibly quite ill from the orphanage. Let's just make this as easy as possible on ourselves.

Today I've been thinking a lot about Guagnzhou. I emailed our online friends who live there and told them of our news. It's been fun to follow their lives over the past few months as well. Most are college students who have just graduated and found jobs. We've exhanged pictures and plan to meet. That's the reason we gave in our letter to China for requesting Guagnzhou as a place to adopt. It's one of the big cities that allows adoption in the first place. BUt we stressed that we are anxious to meet our new friends and learn Chinese culture from them first hand. What an honor it will be to spend time with them and their families.

So that's where my mind is today. Thinking about China. Wondering if my daughter has been born yet. If not, she will be born in the next few weeks. Legally, she has to be at least 6 months old at the time of the referral, which is what we get six months from our LID. It's a piece of paper with her pictures and health record, estimated birth date (unless known) and a bit of information about her personality. We asked for a baby to be six months old at the time of referral, but you never know if that will be honored or not. Sometimes request letters are and sometimes not.

Each month on the China adoption forums, people post their referral information as they come in. And they all come in at one time, from each agency around the world. It's interesting to see which couple got what baby as compared to what they asked for in their request letter. There's rumors that China takes the ages of the parents into consideration. Older couples get older children. If you don't ask for a daughter, you might get a son, if any are available. But mostly it's all girl referrals under 18 months old.

Then everyone posts the referral pics. It's always of angry looking babies completely covered in clothing. The Chinese overdress their children, as compared to what we do in America. The little referral pics are usually of a baby being propped up, completely stiff from all the sweaters and coats and rarely smiling. Still, they look adorable. I can't go to the forums during referral time or I get a bit sad from the longing.

And now, back in America...the Babysitting Mafia taught my daughter to count to three. They also had her call all their friends on their cell phones and say, "Hulloooo? Hello Kitty! Goodbye!" Which is what Narnia says when she talks on the phone. It's never, "hello." It's, "Hullooooo?"I'd say the 18 bucks to the Mafia was well spent!

The Mafia wanted me to go with them to girl's night out at Chevy's for dinner. I said to them, "Why, I'm 28 years old! I'd just cramp your style." They said, "We don't care that you're 28! You're so cool! Come with us!" I said, "Well.. since you insist that I'm 28 years old.. maybe..."

But I didn't. Tweens! No thanks.

It's a slow day today. That's nice. Happy weekend.

Pouring Rain

2005-08-11T12:33:00.000-05:00

WHEEEE MADNESS WHEEEE!

The garage door dude is here.

Dude it totally earning his moolah today. It's 98 degrees with no breeze. Dude is sweating. Poor dude.

Major huge huge audition for another CD release. I seem to be on this production company's short list. Yay for me. Now, I just need to book an actual gig before they boot me off the list.

Audition comes in while Narnia naps. Good timing. Thank you, VO Karma Gods.

The production company sent the final edit of the commercial for me to watch and listen to the scratch VO. That's a voice over recorded by someone in the production company to give the VO talent an idea on timing.

It's another commercial that will run on MTV. Marvel at Gwen Stefani's rockin bod.

Do about 90 takes. Settle for take #1.

Listen to take #1 about a billion times. I sound funny when I say, "Michael Buble'." In my defense, Buble' is an interesting name to say. Especially while trying to sound like the kind of girl who rushes to the record store the second a new CD is released. 20 years old. Perky. Sexy. The kind of friend you want to lay down on a soft mattress with and... oh wait. That was yesterday's gig.

Close eyes, hit send. Bye bye audition. This almost 35 year old needs to be on MTV.

I offered Garage Door Dude the use of a fan. He declined. Might use the fan on me instead.

Have a call in to the Babysititng Mafia. Inbox is loaded with VOs today and Marge no longer assists me when I'm recording. My career exists without my mother's assistance. It's at a more frantic pace now, but it exists.

Mafia wants to decline the offer, because they'd rather go see a movie.

Tell them to get over or I will play their version of an Ashlee Simpson song they recorded in my studio on the radio. They freak. Accept the offer. Blackmailing 13 year olds. Yes, I have stooped to that level.

Oh, my head hurts.

And I really need someone to paint my toe nails. Because I am not good at painting my toe nails. And I am afraid to go to a salon because of that fungus that eats your legs. The one you get from dirty soaking tubs. And I'm a bit creeped out by using nail polish that's been used on someone else.

Will not be asking the Mafia, otherwise I will have pink, orange, and green toenails.

I may sound 20, but I really should look my age, thank you.

And there's a million other things but it's ok. It's ok. I can handle it all. I'm Super Mae. Super Duper!

Out of paper

2005-08-10T13:34:00.000-05:00

I hung out at my mom’s this morning. Narnia and I arrived to find a brand new talking rocking horse.

Narnia informed us that the horse scared the crap out of her. Literally. She pooped through all the diapers I had in my backpack.

I had to bring her home naked except for a dish towel wrapped around her butt.

It was a proud moment for me in my motherhood career.

Last night, I could not fall asleep from all the thoughts spinning around in my brain. Yesterday was one of those information overload kinda days. I shall tell you about it now.

The day began with a gig at the studio. It was just the engineer and myself until the last few pages. Then the entire staff gathered around the engineer to hear me read the pages from a very important client. That’s typical. The writers want to hear their words. The producer wants to make sure the client’s desires are fulfilled. The talent usually sits there, freaking out, because everyone has an option and none synch up.

The producer gave me direction of how he wanted me to sound- sexy, yet conversational. Like you’re talking to a special friend.

Since the product was a mattress being marketed to women, I had a good internal giggle over those directions. Hey, special friend. Come lay down with me on this feather light mattress. You want to because I’m sexy, yet conversational. I’m YOUR special friend, aren’t I?

I nailed all four pages on the first take. Because I RAWK! And because.. I had to or else I’d burst out laughing from the images I had in my head.

Dashed home, where Matt was watching Narnia and took them to our local neighborhood play group. They had organized a preschool fair and about 12 schools participated.

I filled out Matt’s nametag to read, “Big Daddy.” And mine to read, “Big Mama.” The reps from the schools either got a big kick out of the names, or pretended they didn’t exist.

We’ll be checking out the schools that got a kick out of the names. The others- hey- I can’t pay 10 grand a year for preschool so F em anyway.

After getting home, there were tons of business calls to get through. Family issues. Play group matters. The usual. More crap to fill my brain.

Then Big Daddy got home and we went to pick up my new glasses. The CHANEL glasses. Yes, everyone has to know that I am SPECIAL. Ooh ahhh. Link courtesty of the Fab KD, who found these online while I was searching and coming up with nothing.

The optical guy adjusted the glasses on my face. Then the sales gal helped me pick out another pair of frames to be made into prescription sunglasses.

So the sales gal says, “I was supposed to ask you something. The guys in the back want to know why you’re so happy?” She motioned to where the guy was who helped adjust my glasses. “They want to know what drugs you are on and if they are legal.”

I smiled and said, “ Tell them it’s because of Big Daddy.”

She looked very confused.

Came home and read a note from our courier in Chicago. The Consulate did not want to accept our request for a 48 hour turnaround. You pay double for that service, right? They said no, because they are out of paper. Can we please do the 5 day turnaround instead?

Our courier said no, they paid for expedited service, they should get expedited service. The Consulate’s office told her they’d try, but they are very close to running out of paper.

I swear, when we get home from China, I am going to sit and laugh my ass off over all this crap. But now, I find it hugely annoying.

So the Consulate is out of paper.

And because of my new eyewear fetish, so is Big Daddy.

Oh the craziness of it all

2005-08-08T13:56:00.000-05:00

Our weekend:
Just as our I-171 was delivered on Friday, the insurance adjustor showed up to inspect the damage from the fallen tee that went boom all down all down.

I've got the inspector dude trying to tell me what's happening, while the adoption agency is calling, and I'm attempting to edit and print our final forms for China.

Once he is gone and I can collect my thoughts and return the agency's call and ask an important question, it's after 5 and everyone has gone home.

Then on Saturday, we're running around town trying to get some last minute items for an upcoming event thingie, and get our papers together for Monday, and we pull into the garage and hear a BING, then a CLUNK CLUNK CLUNK.

Matt hops out of the car and announces that our garage door is falling down. Go boom! All down, all down! I tell him to stop tugging on the door and let me get Narnia into the house because that's just not safe.

Thankfully, Matt put on a hard hat before messing with the door because it came crashing down on his head.

The door was 50 plus years old and not meant to be going up and down on a garage door opener several times a day. It was time to be replaced. At the cost of 1 grand. We have an odd house, we have an odd garage. It has to be a custom job. Oh yay.

As Narnia said to the garage door guy, "Too big! Too big. Daddy no fix. Door fall down. All down. Boom!" Then she went on to tell him that the tree fell down and went boom. Oh, and Hannah fell down and went boom, too.

I am pleased to report that today,our adoption papers were certified by the Secretary of State in just one hour. Everything is now headed to Chicago to the authenticated. It looks like our papers will be in China not this Friday, but next. We have one final appt with the adoption agency to make sure our dossier is complete. If it is, bye bye papers. Have fun in China.

YES

2005-08-05T14:03:00.000-05:00

It's here.

We're THIS CLOSE to becoming parents again.

Matt's coming home early. We then head to the bank to have it notarized.

Then Monday, it goes to the Secretary of State. The St. Louis office rocks and it will be done that day.

Then Tues or Weds, it goes to the courier in Chicago.

She then walks it to the Chinese Consulate.

One week later, the forms come to us.

Then that Friday, the forms go to China.

6 months later, we see her picture.

2 months after that, we go get her.

It's almost over. It's almost over. It's almost over.

In just a few weeks, our "pregnancy" can begin!

I love everyone

2005-08-03T14:39:00.000-05:00

Conversation I had with Gilad, my personal trainer.
Gilad: Reach those hands to the ceiling!
Mae: Uh, Gilad...
Gilad: Reach reach reach!
Mae: Gilad, my ceiling is pretty low.
Gilad: No excuses! Reach those hands up up up!
Mae: And I have a ceiling fan.
Gilad: Don't you want sexy arms? REACH!
Mae: Yes, yes I do want sexy arms. That end in actual HANDS. Not bloody stumps.
Gilad: Doesn't it feel good to REACH?
Mae: No, not really.

While Narnia naps, I do the Gilad 30 minute workout on Fit TV. Is it helping? I'm still big. but I'm big and beautiful. But I won't credit Gilad with that. I will credit Gilad with putting a smile on my face each time I shout, "GILAD! GILAD! GILAD!" Becuase it's just fun to say.

I just got back from a play date at the South County Mall. I know, I know, I'm a rock star.

In attendance was my pal Britney. You would never think that I'd like Britney so much. Church going, moral, do the right thing, sweetheart Britney. But I do. And she likes me. We joke that we're only friends because our daughters are obsessed with one another. We're friends for the kids, for the KIDS, maaaaaan.

I dunno, I like Britney. And I like her husband, Jack. A sweet computer geek. Which appeals to Matt. The two can sit and talk for hours while Britney rolls her eyes and I say, "Penis! Penis Penis, Britney! Penis!" And she then rolls her eyes at me.

It just works out nicely, this friendship. And Jack bakes. Wow does the guy bake. I call him my Bread Bitch. He calls himself, "Yeastie Boy."

Um.. why do I smell cat poo?

OH LOVELY! Woem pooped in the office. Good going, Woem!

Yuck.

OH Matthew. Did he forget to scoop this morning?

I love my husband. I don't say that enough. He's so good with Narnia. There's nothing sexier than a daddy who LOVES being a daddy. I'm lucky.

Matt takes time off work so I can go to the studios and work. He also gives up his wood working time so I can work on weekends. It really hasn't hurt my career any. But it cuts into his Matt Time and that makes baby Jesus cry.

Heh, had to steal that one from a recent email from Miss Kitty. Another friend of mine that I like a lot lot lot. She's the total opposite of Britney in every way and I love them both. I like variety. I'd hate to hang out with the same types of people all the time. That would get old.

Ok, why is there a spoon on the office floor? Woem, what ARE you doing when I'm not home?

You know who I'd love to be friends with? Kathy Griffin. She cracks me up. I LOVE her comedy. Love love love. I Tivo'd her name and have recorded anything to do with Kathy Griffin. You should, too. Check out her latest comedy show, "Kathy Griffin is not Nicole Kidman." Also her new reality show, "Kathy Griffin, my life on the D list."

When I watch her show, I want to BE Kathy Griffin. Her timing, the way she speaks, the stories she tells. She is living the life I want to live, that woman.

Quirky women. I love them. And I love beefy TV personal trainers from Hawaii, too.

Can you feel the love in this post?

2005-08-01T13:03:00.000-05:00

I had a Me Day yesterday. A mother/daughter Me Day with Marge in Charge. Something that was desperately needed in our relationship.

It was a great day!

We went to the mall to look for clothes for an upcoming vacation. Oh my GAWD! I have a reaaaaaaaaaally hard time paying 80 bucks for a shirt. I just can't do it.

I used to be known by my friends as, "Second Hand Rose." I could walk into any second hand store, and within seconds, zoom in on the GOODS! The Pucci shirt for $3. The 14k bangle bracelet for $10. Those precious items overlooked or not recognized by the store's staff. I could put together a designer wardrobe for 100 bucks. Even back when I started my second hand obsession in the 8th grade.

My first taste of the second hand experience came at the Vail Sale in Vail, Colorado. Ever been there? Total luxury, that Vail, Colorado. Imagine a high school gym packed with tables covered in rich people's castoffs. I don't mean, "I live in a 500 thousand dollar house in West County." I mean, "My second car is a jet," kinda money. Wealth. Those people have nice things.

That's where I learned the thrill of the hunt of second hand shopping. I get chills just thinking about it.

Another incredible second hand shopping experience was in Aspen, Colorado. Another billionaire playground. The millionaires can't afford to live there anymore. So you get the real deal holyfield at the second hand shops. Uhhhhhh I am salivating just thinking about it.

In today's world, there's ebay. Eh. It's ok, but you don't get that rush from actually finding the diamond in the haystack. Touching it. Trying it on. Feeling the rush when you pay 2 bucks for it.

So the whole mall clothing experience was dull and boring. Racks and racks of items I didn't have to hunt for. They're right there, staring at me from behind an 80 dollar price tag.

Bored, we headed into an optical shop. Where I tried to stay away from the Chanel. No no no, no designer frames for me. And certainly not at retail prices.

Yeah, right. I went right for the rack. Each frame I tried on was hotter and sexier than the last. Chanel- I don't know what it is, they know eyewear. No one does sexy eyewear like Chanel. And there's bling. On regular eyeglasses. Yeah, I likes me some bling!

So the woman who won't pay 80 bucks for a shirt, ended up paying.. um... I'm not telling... but it was A LOT for a pair of eyeglasses. Sexy severe librarian, black, with a tiny bit of the CC bling on the stems.

And I'm going back to get the sunglasses.

I'm the woman in Chanel, carring Coach, rooting through the dollar bin at Goodwill.

It's funny, and I love it.

Identity Crisis Over

2005-07-28T20:22:00.000-05:00

Credit Miss Kitty. A visit with her reminded me of everything I've forgotten.

Maybe I need to chat with her more often to make sure I don't get lost in Midwestern Mentality Hell.

I'd explain, but eh... don't feel like it.

I will tell you that I have news on the elusive I-171. I called INS again in total frustration. Got a very nice lady! JUSTIFIED!!! She said yeah, of course we should be worried. It's been over 30 days and that's unusual. But... the good news is that it was JUST approved. A supervisor needs to sign off on the file and then the I-171 will be mailed. She said it might be two more weeks until we see the thing. She said there's nothing on the file to indicate why it took so long.

That's all I wanted. Info. So woooooooo! It's coming. And that means we can get going.

And I'm Mae Midwest again.