Must…Get…Sleep

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I know I must sound like a broken record, but I keep telling myself that I simply MUST go to bed earlier at night.  Six hours of sleep just isn’t cutting it for me anymore.  I am like a crazed zombie, especially late afternoon when I hit the great wall of exhaustion.  I find myself staring right through my kids as they try to have some long-winded conversation with me — I can see their mouths moving, but my mind has run away to la-la land.  All I can think about is curling up in a ball and chilling with Mr. Sandman.  For whatever reason, though, I can’t seem to get my act together at night to crawl into bed at a decent time. Once I finally get the kids tucked away, I absolutely have to have some down time for myself.  That’s when I eat dinner and watch my stupid, mindless t.v. shows.  And, yes, I am fully aware that I’m not advancing my intelligence level by tuning in to Bret Michael’s “Rock of Love Tour Bus”, but it helps me to wind down and relax. Plus, how can you not be entertained by a bunch of strippers fighting over a 40-something year old, washed up rock star with really horrible hair extensions??!!  I miss the days of being able to function like a champ on as little as three or four hours of sleep.  What ever happened to those days? Oh yeah…those kids of mine and a whole decade and a half of aging sucked them right up….

Germs Be Gone

Ask any of my friends and family, and they will tell you that I am a bit of a germ-a-phobe. When my twins were little, I used to really go overboard, wiping anything and everything with disinfectant.  As they’ve grown older and I’ve grown tired, I tend to let a lot of things go now days.  For example, I have fully embraced the three second rule, especially if the food falls on our own floor.  A little dust-off and you’re good to go.  However, my kids are like trained dogs and know that the first thing we do when we walk in the door is to wash our hands.  And whether they want to or not, I make sure their friends abide by this rule when they come over, as well. And judging from my observations, kids just flat out do not know how to properly wash their hands!  I swear they think it’s a race to see how fast they can whiz right through it. There’s no scrubbing, no lathering, and very little rinsing going on.  I have been known to make my kids, as well as their friends, re-wash what was never really washed in the first place. I may not be able to control every little thing they come in contact with when they are in public, but I can certainly try to scrub it off when we get home. Mentally, it just makes me feel better to at least attempt to ward off the latest, greatest virus in town, like this crazy swine flu crap that the media is trying to whip us into a frenzy over. I understand it’s their job to inform us about this situation, but do they really need to scare the hell out of the public? Don’t get me wrong, I certainly don’t want any pig germs to come strutting into my world any time soon.  I just think that, like everything else, the news channels are over-dramatizing the so-called epidemic.  Just to be on the safe side, though, we will continue to scrub our little piggies all the way home (no pun intended)….

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Daddy Fashion Faux Pas

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I don’t know about you, but I cannot trust my husband to dress my kids for anything in this world, at least in anything that’s decent for public viewing.  God love him, but he can’t seem to put anything together that actually matches.  I often wonder if the man is colorblind.  His philosophy seems to be that as long as it’s somewhere in the realm of the same color scheme, well, then, it goes together. Magenta, pale pink, hot pink, fuchsia, rose — all the same to him.  He also doesn’t seem to realize that kids do, in fact, outgrow their clothes. I’ve often come home to find my son wearing pants that look like capris because they are from last season.  The poor child looks like he’s waiting for the flood to come in!  And even though I’ve explained this concept to my husband many many times, he seems to forget that the kids have certain clothes that are dedicated to messy things like painting or running around in the muddy backyard.  I always have to lay out certain clothes if they are going to a birthday party, and my husband is planning to drop them off.  I’ve learned the hard way that if I don’t, he’ll outfit them in some holey, paint-splattered, mud-stained ensemble.  Luckily, my daughter is finally getting to the age where she notices what goes together and is starting to call him out when he’s making a fashion faux pas.  Lord knows, he needs all the help he can get when it comes to kid styling.  So, if you happen to see my kids wearing ratty, old daisy dukes with cropped shirts, please don’t blame me.  My husband must have been in charge of wardrobe that day….

No One Wants a Square Butt!

Is anybody else at all bothered by that stupid Burger King/Spongebob/Baby Got Back commercial? Believe you me, I am far from a prude, but, personally, I think that commercial is just all kinds of wrong!  There’s a bunch of girls shaking their tushes in tight shorts with the Burger King guy spinning tunes.  Very odd.  Here is the ad, in case you haven’t been blindsided by it yet:

Burger King is saying they’re targeting adult audiences because this kids BK Value Meal can only be obtained with the purchase of an adult BK Value Meal.  They claim to only be running the ad during adult programming shows.  Now, I don’t know about you, but, personally, I DESPISE Spongebob.  Everything about him bugs the living crap out of me — his voice, his friends, his extremely small pants.  My kids, however, LOVE him. If that commercial comes on in my home at any given time, I guarantee you that it’s not gonna be my adult attention that it grabs.  My kids, though, will be completely mesmerized by a commercial that, really, makes absolutely no sense whatsoever!  So, if I put two and two together, am I to assume, that if my kids eat the Value Meal, that, they, too, will have square butts?  I mean, seriously, as a woman living in a self-image obsessed world, why would I want to stuff my kids’ faces with fat-laden burgers when I’ve just seen a parade of very deformed booties shaking all over the screen?  I just don’t get it!  Granted, if it was part of a Saturday Night Live skit, I might find it a wee bit funny, but when it gives my kids even more reasons to talk about butts, it kinda loses its humor on me.  We have enough gutter talk as it is around here, and you can bet your square ass that we don’t need any more!

Girls Just Want to Have Fun

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Last night, I had the luxury of having a girls’ night out — no hubbies, no kids, no butts to wipe.  A full night of adults-only, worry-free fun, and I enjoyed every little second of it.  What an incredible change of pace to not to have to be the mom or the cook or the maid for a whole night.  It is so liberating to just “be” for a few hours.  I think it’s only natural as a mom to feel like I’ve lost myself somewhere underneath all the nitty gritty crap that’s often involved with certain aspects of parenting.  The girl that just wants to have a little fun is definitely still hiding under there.  My friends helped me find her again, and she came out to play!  It was a great night that went by way too fast.  And although I am extremely grateful that my husband allowed me the chance to escape all the madness for the night, I knew that I just had to grit my teeth and step right over the mess that was ready to greet me upon my arrival back home.  So what if the laundry had tripled in size, the floor had collected even more crumbs, and the dishes were still waiting patiently to be unloaded from the dishwasher — la dee da. The kids were happy, clean and fed, and most importantly, were still in one piece!  Get-away mission accomplished!

Hot Stuff

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It was such an unbelievably beautiful day here today.  It was so warm that it was like we fast-forwarded Spring and dove right into Summer, which is more than fine with me. BRING IT ON, MAMA NATURE!  I am so sick and tired of winter and everything related to it (the boots, the coats) that I could never see another snowflake again and be a better person for it. In the midst of my excitement over the amazing weather, I could have sworn I heard the whiney complaints of my children about the heat being too much to bear. Oh, no they didn’t! After being trapped indoors for the past six months, you mean to tell me that I have to sit and listen to bitching and moaning about a little sweat?  Suck it up, people!  This is a little slice of Heaven!  I actually heard my son tell my daughter that he thought it was too dangerous to be outside because of the heat — as if I need another drama queen in the house. Oh, but I didn’t let it stop me from enjoying the last bits of the day though. After running like a mad woman all week long, I made an executive decision to tune out the negativity.  I poured myself a glass of wine, plopped my tired ass in a chair on the patio, propped up my flip-flops, and finally finished my Us magazine from two weeks ago.  Life was good…at least for the ten minutes that this lasted anyway….

Who You Callin’ Girly?

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As a mom of twins, I rarely get opportunities to have one on one time with my kids.  So, for a special birthday treat, I promised my daughter I’d take her to get a manicure with her best little girlfriend before the big birthday party last weekend. (My husband took my son and his best buddy on a beach adventure so we could have some girly time.) To say that the girls were excited about the appointment would be a severe understatement. They were dressed in their pinkest of pink dresses and waiting by the door for hours beforehand.   My daughter must’ve asked me five hundred times if it was time to go. When we finally got to the salon, they were told to pick out the color they wanted, which, naturally, was the sparkliest pink known to mankind. When the ladies began to clean up their tiny little hands, I have never seen two little girls sit so perfectly still in all my life.  I couldn’t get my daughter to sit that calmly if my life depended on it! While I waited for the beauty queens to be pampered, I watched these nail salon experts go to town with their magic — I haven’t the slightest clue how you file something as tiny as a six year old’s microscopic pinky nail without losing your mind. And then, I was even more amazed when they used a toothpick to apply the world’s tiniest flower stickers to the girls’ itty bitty thumbnails without hacking up the whole paint job.  I wanted to stand up and clap or something because that truly takes skill.  I know this because I have tried and miserably failed on more than one occasion to paint my daughter’s nails, only to have them end up looking like she stuck her fingers in a bowling ball full of pink paint. It’s impossible!  As expected, the girls could not have been more proud of their fancy nails.  They were beyond careful about not messing them up.  However, kids will be kids, though, and after she knew that her nails were definitely dry, my daughter hiked up her dress and proceeded to dig for worms in the backyard.  So much for girly time….  🙂