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Domestic Goddess = Me

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , on December 1, 2009| Leave a Comment »


Big Brother’s recent class assignment: bring in a copy of a favorite recipe from home. Big Brother reported to me today that he told them he planned to bring in “my Mom’s delicious cookie recipe.”

Hmmm…
My cookie recipe? K.
Open package
Break apart
Throw onto cookie sheet
Bake
PTA, here I come.

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It Can Help You Look Younger, Too…

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , on November 20, 2009| Leave a Comment »

Got my hair cut and colored the other day. As usual. Cut about an inch off. As usual. Left feeling rather glamorous. As usual. Then, on the very next day, looked almost like I never went. As usual.
But, this time I did think to ask for some advice on how to make my hair look less dry and my hairdresser (who never pushes anything on me) asked what shampoo I use.
Me: Ummm. Well, not really anything in particular.
C: No?
Me: No, I actually just buy whatever smells the best to me at the time.
C: At the grocery store?
Me: Yup.
C: Conditioner?
Me: Sometimes. When I’m at my mother-in-laws because there’s some in the shower. Or sometimes I’ll use Husbands’ 2-in-1 Head & Shoulders. I think that has conditioner in it.
I’m such a lost cause.
Anyway, I came home with a new bottle of shampoo and a new bottle of conditioner. Bought directly from my hair salon. $15 a pop. (Gasp!)

Husband came home that night and gave me the usual thumbs-up on the day-of hair do. I shared with him that I got some advice on my hair and was optimistic about what was sure to be my new shiny, healthy hair due to the amazing shampoo and conditioner I had just purchased. Yay, me!
Husband: Just what you need, huh? More products.
I laughed. Because, there could be absolutely no possibly way that he was serious. And maybe he was.
I’ll let you be the judge.
Here below you can see my extensive collection of shower products.

Note my exciting new shampoo and conditioner. Body Wash is made by Dove, probably cost $2 and has probably been sitting in the same spot in the shower for a month because I lost the loofah. Aforementioned H&S shampoo is not mine.
And here, on the left side of the middle shelf of our medicine cabinet is my complete make-up collection. Really.
Again, note the staggering array of high-cost brands including such notables as Bonnie Bell lip gloss and Maybelline mascara. Rodeo Drive, here I come.
And finally, my additional “vanity items” – Oil of Olay, Ralph Lauren Romance perfume and Dove deodorant. Right Guard, of course, is his. Anything left of the Oil of Olay is “ours”.
So, there you have it. I certainly may be high-maintenance in other ways but products?! Ha. I will not be branded with the Scarlet P. Nope. Not me.
Bring on the $15 shampoo. I think I deserve it.

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I Scream. You Scream?

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on November 20, 2009| 2 Comments »


So, it’s become clear to me that yes, I am, in fact, a screamer. I’ve become one of those Moms that I never really thought I’d be or at least I hoped I wouldn’t be. But, nonetheless, the fact is that, when push comes to shove and the rubber hits the road and all hell is breaking loose (look at that, three coloquialisms in a row) I am…in fact…a screamer.

And, apparently you know you have entered the inner sanctum of my life when I allow you to witness the full mental breakdown that leads to the event of my banshee-esque screaming. Today, for example…
My beloved almost-five-year old (he long ago stopped calling himself four) had been out of the house almost literally all day long. School, extended for lunch and play with a new “girlfriend” (she’s from Norway and Big Brother apparently takes after his father), no afternoon nap, home for about 20 minutes then off to a swimming playdate at the Y and dinner with his best friend, C. And C’s nanny who is a-w-e-s-o-m-e. I adore her. And I have total envy of my new and wonderful friend M., who employs said Nanny’s services and, therefore, exposes her children to DELIGHTFUL play on a regular basis. (As an example, Big Brother made a pickle pizza last time he was at C’s house. How cool is that?)
Anyway, Nanny is kind enough to allow the ours to be family #2 and she helps us out as much as she can. We do regular play-dates at the park. My boys love her and can’t wait for the next time we go out but they hope we DONT go out with C’s Mommy and Daddy because that means they can’t have Nanny all to themselves.
Now, fast forward to 6:45 this evening when Big Brother arrives home. I haven’t seen the kid in what seems like weeks and, as I rush to the door to greet him with visions of hugs and kisses, I realize quickly that he could, clearly, care less. Instead, he saunters past me on his way to, no doubt, ensure that his pesky little brother hasn’t had any fun while he was gone and to make DAMN sure that said fun stops…now. Up the stairs goes Big Brother. I greet Nanny who wants to discuss (god bless her) when she can take him off my hands YET AGAIN for a sleepover with C.
30 seconds go by. Max. Little Brother wails loudly from upstairs.
Me (medium voice): Hey guys? Play nice, ok?
Conversation continues with Nanny.
10 seconds later.
Big Brother: NO, Little Brother, that’s my Bakugan!
Little Brother wails yet again. I picture the hands on the shoulders shake Big is undoubtedly giving Little.
F-ing Bakugans.
Me: Big Brother! Stop!

Smile at Nanny. “Sorry.” She understands, of course.

12 seconds? Maybe?

More cries. Louder now. Conversation with Nanny is drawing to a close. But not before she hears the quiet fraying sound of…what was that? Oh yes, my last nerve.
Me: Big Brother, I swear if you don’t keep your hands to yourself this second I’m going to come up there and you. will. be. SORRY!

Nanny: Ok, well let’s chat tomorrow.

Sometimes I wonder what differentiates the good Moms from the bad. I sure as hell hope it isn’t volume.

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Why I Might Go Eat a Pizza…

Posted in Uncategorized on November 14, 2009| Leave a Comment »

You know when you lose so much weight that suddenly you look in the mirror and you notice that your body has shrunk so much that your head looks HUGE?

Yeah?

Well, that’s not happening to me.

Weight Watchers tells me that over the last four weeks I have lost 3 lbs and 8 oz. Or, roughly 3/4 of a pound per week. For all the g-damn cottage cheese, steamed veggies and fiber crackers? 3/4 of a pound a week?!
Annoyed.

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Devil Just Come On Back, If You Ever Want to Try Again..

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , on November 12, 2009| Leave a Comment »

About nine years ago, I was a little nervous to meet an old friend of my then-boyfriend (now-husband) who I had heard a lot about. Fun stories mostly, nothing really intimidating, but he was really the last of Husbands’ close friends that I hadn’t met and I wanted to make a good impression. We were meeting up (with others) at a bar in Fanueil Hall and while I could get myself there today, I have no clue what its name might be.

Anyway, long story short, he gave me the thumbs up. But not because I was good to Husband (then Boyfriend) or because I came from a good family. He approved of me because I could sing (and did sing) every word to “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” by the Charlie Daniels Band. With that on my resume, he figured I was cool enough to hang with his buddy.
I love that song. Love it. L-o-v-e it. Preferably played very loudly.
And there have been many and various knock-offs of this classic that have all, in my opinion, fallen flat. Nothing even entered the CDB stratosphere.
Last night I watched the CMA Awards for about 15 minutes. And, to be honest, I watched them because I was bossily not going to let Husband watch another minute of Fox News in my presence. So, I pretended that I really wanted to watch the Country Music Awards when, frankly, I could care less about them.
But during those 15 minutes we were introduced to the Zac Brown Band. And we witnessed this. Then we rewound and rewatched. Again. And then again. Three times. And, now twice this morning. Just makes me smile. Awesome.

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So Sue Me…

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on November 5, 2009| Leave a Comment »

So, I’ve recently learned that some nincompoop parents decided to sue the Baby Einstein company because they were angry that the videos did not, in fact, make their children smarter. And these idiots won. And now we lucky parents can walk right back into our local Walmart and return these “worthless” videos for a full refund. Are you kidding me?!

I get it that, yes, the company certainly should not make such claims if they are not going to be true in all cases. The parents who decide to drop their child down in front of Baby Einstein so that they can sneak a cigarette on the back porch, share a few extra vodkas with their spouse or catch the tail end of Judge Judy will be sadly disappointed when little Charlie doesn’t finish up his forty-two minutes with Baby Monet and head out to paint the next “Water Lillies.” So, I’ll give you that the company’s claims were baseless and that perhaps there are, sadly, thousands of parents out there foolish enough to really believe that they could cross “educate” off their childcare to-do list for the day with a video. The company should never have said such things as the videos alone clearly can not teach. And, I suppose, that makes it worthy of a lawsuit.
Sigh.
But those parents who actually remain in the same room with their child while they watch and actually talk about it now and then? I believe that those parents, more likely than not, do see that these videos can expand little minds even if just a bit. I absolutely love it that when my 2-year old hears classical music he smiles and says “Einstein!” So, he doesn’t recognize that it’s Bach versus Beethoven, he loves it. It makes him smile.

Big Brother picked up some sign language from Marlee Matalin on Baby Wordsworth. He gave me some giant belly laughs when we’d do “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes” to Baby Da Vinci. I also got some of my best educational (yes, educational) toy ideas from these videos. Toys that were Will’s that have become Little Brother’s that they regularly play and enjoy together.
So, I’m pissed me off. It makes me crazy that Julie Clark now has to give back any portion of her multi-millions to these lazy-ass, lawsuit-toting morons who go after a company like Baby Einstein and call themselves good parents for doing so.
And, frankly, I hope Julie is sitting back in the palatial mansion she likely bought a few years ago (when a little, know-nothing company named Disney bought the majority stake in Baby Einstein) and laughing it all off.
Have a drink on me, Julie. I’m keeping my videos.

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Mirror, Mirror on the….hmmm. Where IS that thing?

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , on November 3, 2009| 1 Comment »

On Tuesday and Thursday mornings, I’m solo. Both boys are at pre-school and it’s truly a great time to schedule all the stuff that’s just easier to do without kids. You know…grocery shopping, maybe a pedicure, my own doctor appointments, cleaning the house, folding laundry. So, today I went to Target after drop-off. Wandered around, found what I needed (and, as usual, also found more than I needed), then stopped at Dunkin Donuts for a coffee on my way home. Came home, unloaded the car, called my friend S., answered email, looked at Facebook, installed a couple booster seats at the kitchen table and then, while replacing washcloths in the boys’ bathroom, it happened.

I looked in the mirror.
And, I had a raisin in my hair. Right over my right ear. And it had undoubtedly been with me since I carried Little Brother into school.
WTF? I actually carried this freakin’ raisin around in my hair for the last two and a half hours?! In public?

Which made me contemplate the fact that, at some point in my married / Mommy life, I pretty much stopped looking in the mirror. I mean, of course, I look in the mirror when I need to. Brushing my teeth, drying my hair, etc. But, other than that? Nah. Not so much.
We were given a beautiful tiled mirror as a wedding gift that was generously purchased by my boss from a store in Marblehead that I covet called Comina. I can’t even let myself go in for fear I’ll spend $100 on a napkin ring. And when we received it, it seriously may have been my very favorite wedding gift. Finally unpacking all our pictures the other night (we moved in July but whatever), Husband noticed the mirror was missing.
Me: Oh, yeah, we have that. I unpacked it a few weeks ago.
Husband: So, where is it?
Me: It’s on the floor of my closet.
And, I think I probably stopped looking in mirrors somewhere around the time that I decided my go-to sleepwear was the set of polka dot pajamas I bought at the local Big Y Supermarket.
Poor Husband.

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Oink

Posted in Uncategorized on October 26, 2009| Leave a Comment »

Mass hysteria or desperate times, too much mercury or no mercury, nasal spray or arm injection, presidential emergency of epidemic proportion?……

Whatev.

My little men have now officially been vaccinated for the press event known as “Swine Flu” and I, for one, am immensely relieved about it. Let all those other snot-nosed kids at their school cough and sneeze and wipe their germ-ridden (albeit adorable) little hands right on my two little sweetie pies.
We, for two, will not be getting that disease this year.

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But Weight Just a Minute

Posted in Uncategorized on October 19, 2009| Leave a Comment »

I went to a beautiful wedding the last weekend in May. One of my own bridesmaids (who I’m pretty bummed to have nearly lost touch with) was getting married and I was really looking forward to her wedding. I would have liked to have lost weight for it (she went to Elon and I swear I have never met a woman who went to Elon who wasn’t beautiful and/or so thin that I would likely be able to eat her for lunch…in a small bite) but I didn’t. So, since I hadn’t been to a wedding since last fall (you know you’re getting old when…) I just decided to choose from one of last year’s “fat dresses”.
Tried them on for the first time two days before the big event. And they were too small. Sh*t.
Bought a tent (oops, I mean, a dress) the next day, wore it to the wedding and sadly realized as I looked around that I might just be the heaviest woman in the place. Or, at least close to it. More Chardonnay, please.
Enough. On June 1, I joined Weight Watchers, which was a successful program for me before my own wedding and I knew I was finally in the right mind set (shame is a powerful motivator) to start it up again.
And, now, a little more than four months later, I’m well on my way to becoming the next Valerie Bertinelli (without the hankering for tattooed rock stars). I’ve lost 23 pounds and I’m in the groove. But, the annoying thing is that I can still wear my clothes from 23 pounds ago. I mean, they certainly look a little better on me but you’d think I’d have dropped a few sizes wouldn’t you? So, I’m trying to look at 23 pounds in terms of other things. Things that actually mean something to me in my stay-at-home Mom-ness.
For example, I lost the equivalent of:
roughly 23 bags of coffee beans
my Keurig one-cup coffee machine when half filled with water
4 Directv DVR/HD cable boxes
2 XL HE Gain Laundry Detergent bottles
47 Thomas The Tank Engine DVDs
9 bottles of Chardonnay
my 2 year old son‘s entire body weight
And, that all makes me feel a little better about the fact that I’m not entitled to a new wardrobe…well, at least not yet.

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A Little "Peabody Ink"

Posted in Uncategorized on October 15, 2009| 1 Comment »

Let me begin with the fact that I’ve always wanted a tattoo. But, I didn’t want to be foolish about it and go get something like a butterfly or a ladybug or a Patriots logo or something that I’d be bound to not care at all about twenty years down the road. And then I’d be stuck with it.


So, now that I’m a proud Mommy of two (and there will never be three) beautiful children, I know that there is something in my life I’ll love forever and ever. Unequivocally. No matter what.

I’ve been mulling the idea of two small blue hearts, one with a W and one with a J (my boys first initials), for a while now. On my hip / bikini line so that no one I don’t care to show it to would ever know it was there. I’ve mentioned it to my husband and to friends but I’m pretty sure no one actually really thought I’d do it.

Well…I did it.

Made an appointment yesterday at a place called (gulp) Drastic Tattoo out near the Northshore Mall (on a friends recommendation).

Ring. Ring.
“Drastic Tattoo, this is Diamond.”
Diamond? (Deep breath)
Me: Ummm, hi. I think I want a tattoo tomorrow morning, do I need an appt?
Diamond: Sure, we open at 11 am.
Me: Oh. Hmm. Well, how long will it take?
Diamond: Tell me about the kind of tattoo you want.

So I explain it. Verbose-ly.

“Well, I’ve always thought I wanted a tattoo and never knew what to get and now I have two boys and I think I just want two little hearts colored in and each with the letter of their first name. I’m really nervous about it. I haven’t even told my husband I’m doing it. Anyway, I have to pick them up at school at 12:30 so if it’s going to take a long time, maybe I’ll just try to do it another day and…”

Diamond: I can open at 10 for you if that helps.
Me: Oh. You can? Well, that’s so nice of you.

I shouldn’t have been surprised that they open at 11, anyway. I mean tattoo places probably aren’t big stops for women coming in right after pre-school drop-off. And, hell, they’re probably staying open until, like 4 am or some hour I haven’t seen in…well, maybe forever.

Diamond: I’ll draw something up for you. See you at 10.
Me: ok

So, last night my dear husband asks me what I’ve got going on today and why I didn’t call my cousin back who I adore and who is in the area for the week and I was probably going to see on Thursday (today). I said I didn’t have anything going on and was actually probably not going to see her after all. Not sure why I didn’t come out and tell him about the appointment then. I guess I didn’t want to be talked out of it or offered opinions or whatever. Not to discredit his input which I value. This just sort of had to be something I was doing because I wanted to do it. For me.

Got up this morning and dropped the guys at school. Walked into their wonderful little school un-showered, in jeans and a fleece pullover. Ran into plenty of parents I should probably care about making a good impression on. But, nope. Went dirty. Came home after drop off, before my 10 am tattoo appointment and for some absurd reason I showered, put on nice black pants, a nice sweater, heeled black boots and…no joke….mascara. What in the world??? What message was I trying to send to the tattoo place? “Oh, in case you didn’t know already by my psycho-babble on the phone, or my black Jeep Grand Cherokee with car seats in the back or the fact that I’m walking in with my Starbucks pumpkin spice latte in hand….just to make it extra clear to you…I’m gonna dress up for my tattoo appointment. Just so you know for sure that I’m not the kind of person who usually gets tattoos. ” I swear, I’m half insane most of the time. They probably opened early for me so I wouldn’t scare off the rest of their clientele.

Anyway, Diamond is there when I arrive at 9:47. The place smells so badly of patchouli I can hardly breathe. But, it’s clean and bright and I think it’ll all be ok. Diamond’s done a sketch for me and sure enough it’s two hearts with a W and a J. But they’re all swirley fancy cursive Miami-Ink letters with curly-q tails and my two hearts have little twinkly star-burst things coming off them and they’re all askew and really BIG. And, I’m such a goddamn mouse who is afraid to hurt people’s feelings that it took all I had in me not to say “looks GREAT” and just go ahead and let the man put his insane artwork right on my body. Forever.

But, I muster up the courage and I edit. And he fixes. And it all looks good to go.

And now I’m on the table and definitely freaking out but determined. All set. I can do it.

Then right before the first outline begins, his freakin’ boss arrives and strolls right into the room, takes one look at me and says with a grin “This your first tattoo?” Genius. Oh, and he has tattoos ev-er-y-where. Even on his entire bald head. And the top of his hands. And he’s completely making me panic.

“Yes, my first tattoo.”

“Ah. Don’t be nervous. Just think about how this felt!” (pointing at his head)

I think I might throw up.

He continues. Pulls up a chair nearby. “Here, I’ll just tell you about my crazy teenage daughter this morning. Sh*t man, it was f*ckin’ ridiculous. Just listen to this and it’ll take your mind off the needles.”

Oh, please go away. Please.

But, I hear all about it and I am such an insane pollyanna, niceness nerd that I even manage to contribute a “no way” and a “oh no” and a “really?” now and then. The story takes roughly 15 minutes. The tattoo takes 19 minutes 37 seconds. Roughly.

And it’s over.

I tried calling my husband on the way home and I’m pretty sure he was busy and sent my call to voicemail so I haven’t even told him yet (although he’ll know before I post this of course.)

So, what do you think?





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