Thursday, May 31, 2007
**OH MY GOSH, HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN SWEET Ramblin' Rose, WHO SENT ME TIM TAMS, ONLY THE GREATEST CHOCOLATEY-EST, YUMMIEST AUSTRALIAN COOKIES EVER... and not only did she send me a care package once from Australia, she sent me ANOTHER PACKAGE LATER!!!
And, an update to Rusty Nails: I am currently enjoying my icedventinonfatsugarfreevanillalattewithEZwhip with the gift card you bought me from the FIRST EVER STARBUCKS IN THE WORLD! I even told Shannon, my barista (see I know them all by name!) that it was a very special original card! And I celebrated by getting a venti!!!
And continuing to be happy, today I open my mailbox to find care package from BBFF Swishy with two awesome CDs – yes, I got her Grey’s Anatomy Mixes, Volume I and Volume II. And, she included some ORBIT Bubblemint gum that I have been blowing mad bubbles with, as has Swishy. We IM each other WHILE blowing mad bubbles. Are we weird or what? Don’t answer.
I challenege you; Beat this bubble-blowin' babe:
I know some people might not understand the connection you can make through blogging, but I have met some really terrific people online and in real life because of this blog. It’s an amazing little community and it’s been so fun to pop over to other blogs and comment, only to see that I know the other commentors! It’s fun to check in and see what’s going on in others’ lives, and to know that in all my crazed days, I’m nowhere near being alone. And that is a really great feeling.
And to all of you who wished Mr. Manic and me a Happy Anniversary, we thank you, even though Mr. Manic still barely knows this blog exists and I've been Manic for two-and-a-half years! We’ve yet to have a minute alone to open the cards we bought one another – they are still on our bathroom counter top. Now that’s pathetic.
And speaking of pathetic, author Tyeese Gaines Reid has chosen the winner of the Get A Life contest. Now, before I reveal the winner, I want you to know this does not mean this person is really, really pathetic. It might just mean she / he needs a little down-time, me-time, alone time. You are not a loser! You are worthy of great things! You just need to find the time and the ways to discover those great things!
Colorado Writer is our grand prize How Pathetic Are You Loser… oops, I mean WINNER!
And if Colorado Writer is unable to meet the requirements of being the How Pathetic Are You Loser, then the runner-up is Rhonda!
Thanks for participating, and Colorado Writer, you will be receiving an autographed copy of The Get A Life Campaign book by Tyeese Gaines Reid, and I might just send ya some ice cream too! Rhonda, since you’re just a little bit of a pathetic loser, if you email me your address, I will send you some ice cream too!
And for those of you just not pathetic enough to win, well, that’s great news, isn’t it?!?! So, maybe you’re not that pathetic after all, but if you do need some help you can always order a copy of The Get A Life Campaign.
In other Manic News, my body is not a temple. Oh wait, yes it is! It is the Temple of Doom!
(I'll give you all a minute to clean up the beverage you just splurted onto your computer screen because I'm just so damn funny tonight!)
You would not believe how much I walked in the past 10 days. Let me do the math, because I am just neurotic and dorky enough to have a spreadsheet calendar where I record what type of daily exercise I do…
In 10 days, I have walked forty freaking miles. FOUR-OH! 4-T! Can you believe that? And this rebellious Temple of Doom body of mine has done nothing to thank me for it. Aren’t I being good to my body? Am I not doing what I am supposed to be doing? I am also trying to eat something for breakfast each morning because I am fearing my metabolism has up and left the freaking building.
It’s so frustrating, I am even considering going to some sort of Weight Control doctor. WTF?
OH MY GOD… Ajers just scared the absolute crap out of me. I was in a typing maniac zone and I think I was talking what I was writing and saying the words aloud as I typed and all of a sudden I look up and there’s Ajers peeking over the cabinet door. And now here is Diva. Which brings me to what I was going to say next.
Tomorrow, believe it or not is the start of
S U M M E R V A C A T I O N.
Am I happy about this? I am not sure. We’ve got some plans: the first ever Manic-Disney trip will commence this summer. We’ll also be heading to Ohio to celebrate my Little Granny’s 95th birthday. And God love her, she is as sharp as a tack, and cute as a button. She used to call me Schnicklepuss when I was little, so now I call her that anytime we talk on the phone. I can’t wait to see her and squeeze the bajeezes out of her!
And later in the summer, we will be seeing THE AMERICAN IDOL TOUR! EIGHTH ROW! And yes, I am very excited to be going. The Manic Kids do not know yet that we are going. I don’t know how I will be able to keep it a secret from them. I can’t wait to make my signs:
Blake, Will You Have My Babies!?
Sanjaya, Don’t Come Near My Diva!
So anyway, rambled on long enough I think. But I do want to say to all of you, thanks for reading Manic Mom’s Mental Myriads. It’s a little secret world that not everyone in my life knows about, and it’s just fun to connect with all of you and I really enjoy your comments and thoughts. They do make my days brighter!
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Get a morning shower!
Get kids fed and walk them to bus.
Throw in laundry.
Do freelance work.
Take car in for the first ever detailing in six years.
Starbucks stop (thanks Rusty Nails for the gift card! Whoo-Hoo!)
Back home - Tukey and a playdate.
Do my freelance job work.
Throw laundry in dryer.
Playdate gets picked up.
Lunch for Tukey.
Tukey to school.
Get car back from detailing. Can't believe it's MY mini.
Run to Hallmark store.
Go to grocery store.
Realize I forgot I'm snack mom for Tukey's game and I need snacks.
Get a call from Diva who has left her permission slip for horseback riding at home.
Call Tukey's carpool to see if he can stay at the house cuz I have to deliver permission slip.
Get Ajers from bus.
Tell him he CANNOT eat that cookie in my newly detailed clean car.
Speed to school.
Deliver permission slip and a kiss to Diva.
Speed to grocery store.
Get goldfish, animal crackers, juice boxes for tee-ball team.
Pick up Tukey from friend's house.
Realize I've had to pee since 10 a.m.
Do more freelance work.
Get kids in their baseball gear.
Feed kids something.
Mr. Manic comes home early to messy house.
Mr. Manic doesn't say anything about messy house.
Mr. Manic takes Ajers to his game.
I wait for Diva.
Tukey needs to go to his game.
Diva needs to come home from horseback riding so I can get her uniform on.
Diva gets home; is not feeling well. Does not go to her game.
Diva and I go to Tukey's game. With snacks.
Watch Tukey's game.
Am kind of bored.
Call Mr. Manic after Tukey's game to see if Ajers game is still on.
Ask kids to take showers.
Get out fruit, wine, cheese, and crackers.
Sit with hubby for 13 minutes while we eat and reminisce about 14 years ago today.
Because, this is what happened 14 years ago today:
Signing off for Mr. Manic snuggle time. With all the craziness, we'll always take some time to realize we are each other's best mistakes in life! (Ha, just kidding! We are each others' soul mates! Ha, just kidding again!)
Happy Anniversary to us!
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Me: "Daddy has to make a phone call for work and he's down there."
AJers: “Are you sure there’s not another woman in his life?”
~ ~ ~
Me, in the bathroom, Tukey comes by and yells through the door:
“Mom, you still taking a doozy?”
~ ~ ~
Diva, overheard with her friend in the backyard as they practice hitting for softball:
“Get mad at it girl! Get mad at it!"
And, in preparation for batting, where they have to plant their front foot down in order to hit: “Squish the bug! Squish the bug!”
~ ~ ~ ~
AJers, sniffing around in my bathroom: "Ewwww, it smells like updog in here."
Me: "What's 'updog?'"
AJers: "Not much, what's up with you, dog?"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tukey: Mom, do birds lay eggs?
Me: Yeah, of course! They all do, penguins lay eggs, all birds lay eggs.
Tukey: I only thought chickens lay eggs.
Me: Nope, all birds lay eggs.
Diva, entering into the conversation: Well, how exactly do they come out? Do they throw them up, or do they poop 'em out?
Me: Well, actually, they come out of their vaginas.
Tukey: Mom, you scare me.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Here it is closer:
During my creative splurge, I realized I made a mistake. Can you find what I did wrong in my Sidewalk Quilt?
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Thanks to everyone who chimed in on the topic of being pathetic. It's interesting to know that our patheticism revolves around our lack of a sex drive (excluding Piddler, who is a sex goddess in her own right--you go girl!)
If you were even too pathetic to leave a comment to enter the contest, you still have till Friday, 5 p.m. to do so. A winner will be named early next week.
In other news, ways Manic Mom is now getting a life:
It's 8:05 a.m.
I've been up for 2-1/2 hours, and have already walked FOUR MILES! Yes, you read that right. Four miles. To me, that's a lot. And I walked four yesterday. And the day before that, I walked SEVEN! (Three to Starbucks early in the a.m., then the four-mile route my friend and I are combatting.)
I've decided this is absolutely the only way to jumpstart my metabolism and if that means I have to get my a$$ out of bed every morning at 6:00, to get the exercise in and to feel good about myself, then this is what I have to do.
But, it's not like I haven't BEEN exercising. I average 4-6 times a week some sort of exercise, whether it's strength training, walking, yoga (I even swam twice last week). I don't know why my body is so freaking rebellious?
And I've also decided that if this doesn't kick my metabolism into gear, then the hell with it all, and I'll just resign myself to being a big ole blimp and eat anything and everything that gets in the way.
The other goal my walking pal and I have is that we are expecting at least one cat-call, horn-honk, whistle-blow per walk. We have to walk till we get that. And believe it or not, yesterday, some tattoo-clad dude in a white work truck did whistle at us. And the shocking thing was it sounded sincere! Walker pal and I both fell to the ground in gratitude. I was sure as the truck was passing us, the dudes were saying, "We sure made those old ladies feel good." Thank you boys!
Monday, May 21, 2007
Take it away Tyeese--
Enter the Manic Mom "How Pathetic Are You?" Contest!
Are you so overworked that you haven't seen a movie in years? How about reading a book that didn't star Elmo or Pooh? Has your sense of style become dull, or uh... motherly? Do you not feel like yourself anymore? Has your career, husband or children sucked the life out of you?
Tell us all about it in the comments section. I'll pick the most outrageous and deserving story and reward you with an autographed copy of "The Get A Life Campaign" to help you shape up!
P.S. Manic Mom is a huge believer in the power of ice cream so she'll throw in a little tasty treat so when you get your book, you can go out for ice cream, and enjoy a little quiet time with a great read and a yummy sundae!
"The Get A Life Campaign" by Tyeese Gaines Reid is a fun, witty pocket guide for busy women who are determined to get their lives back. Each chapter teaches women how to make more time for themselves and use it wisely. The book provides all the things you've ever thought, heard or advised someone else in a nice, concise, on the go format. It takes an upbeat look at ways to avoid the rut, squeeze the most out of busy schedules, and help busy women get the lives they deserve. If you're not pathetic enough to win the contest, you can still get a copy at www.getalifecampaign.com.
So go ahead, share your patheticism. It's not like Manic doesn't share hers with you practically DAILY!
Good luck from Tyeese and Manic Mom!
Sunday, May 20, 2007
What's a "Bump-and-Run," you ask?
Kettle One, Starbucks Liquer (or is it Liquouer?), Bailey's and coffee, shaken, not sitree.d... and oopps, some mistakes are occurring with the fingers on the keyboard.
A "Bump-and-Run"... unexpected for a Sunday afternoon considering Manic Mom has a "nodrinking-on-Sunday" rule. Apparently, I do not follow my own rules.
Today could have started out absoulutely miserably given the initial circumstances of me being awakened at 7 a.m. by doting and (ahem) horny hubby, but, thinking in terms I don't usually think in, I was able to align with the stars, and make the day a beautfiul one.
Tyupos left in because I'm being real, and if I can't be real after a "Bump-and-Run" then I have to ask myself, "Who am I? Really?"
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Manic Mom is going to bed.
Manic Mom thinks she needs to get a life.
Maybe tomorrow Manic Mom will go shop for one.
Update, eleven minutes later:
Manic Mom is still bored.
Manic Mom has not had a Starbucks since Friday, May 11.
Manic Mom drank her last dose of Detox-7 today.
It appears Manic Mom has gained an average of two pounds a month in the last year.
How is that possible?
This frustrates Manic Mom.
Frustration makes Manic Mom want to eat.
Eating makes Manic Mom gain weight.
Which continues the vicious weight-gain Manic cycle right back at the frustration part.
Is there no stopping?
OK, since she has totally bored herself to death, Manic Mom is really going to go to bed now. She bets you're just as thrilled as she is.
Manic Mom definitely needs to GET A LIFE. Stay tuned for more on that later this week.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Think of this
What are You thinking?
About the sensations
Who You're with?
Why You're Alone?
What is being done
And who are You
are You thinking
About the sensations.
of being Alone.
When You're obviously
of the Other.
Why think this?
And after, See
if You can answer
You will know.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
I went pee then.
Birds are chirping. Too freaking loudly. Or is it loud?
Then felt the urge to Blog in order to shut my mind off so I can have two more hours of sleep.
Diva’s tooth, still intact.
Detox-7 seems to be working, aside from a killer headache on Day 2. Bark fiber drink seems to go down better with some Oreo chasers immediately following.
It was a long matchstick that clogged the toilet. No further problems.
I’m hungry right now.
Diva ate cashews yesterday – a MAJOR breakthrough – voluntary PROTEIN!
These were the winners of the CD contest; as promised, they all received personalized CDs according to what I knew of them, or what I think I know about them --
My Cold Stone Creamery Mother’s Day choice: cake batter with hot fudge, caramel and brownies.
Jenster won that prize.
I’m typing with one eye closed because it’s kinda bright (the screen) and it’s bothersome.
As I believe in The Secret,
I am positive 40 Weeks will be published some day.
Puncture wound healing nicely.
Wonder-Neighbor no longer worried that I’m suicidal.
Hubby refused to wear this on Mother’s Day. He said, “Not for nothing, but it’s kinda catty.”
Haven't had a Starbucks fix since last Friday.
Not missing it. Or the money that it takes to sustain such an addiction.
Second novel progressing very nicely.
Had an awesome walnut, pear, blue cheese salad yesterday.
Shrek the Third comes out this weekend.
Swam laps at the club yesterday instead of the Strength Training program. Hoping to be incredibly sore when I wake up for real today.
I have been a Blake Lewis fan since I first saw the cutie and he beat-boxed. He reminds me of an ex-boyfriend – the hair and the smile, not the beat-box or singing part, or the tattoos, so I guess he doesn’t really remind me of an ex-boyfriend. But, at this point, I would say it’s anyone’s guess as to who will win the title. Jordin is amazing.
The Manic family is getting tickets to the American Idol tour. Diva will freak out when she sees Sanjaya (ewww) singing on a stage in front of her.
Talked to Swish on the phone yesterday. Had to call her cuz the Tegan and Sara song reminds me of her.
Still typing with one eye closed – can you guess which one?
Those birds at 4:46 A.M. have got something going on. They are screeching outside.
Read this incredible book recently: Twisted. Young adult, but not for children.
Am reading this one currently; has lots of familiar references as I went to high school in that town. I wonder if the author is an alum there? He must be.
I am feeling like James Blunt right about now.
Mind is clear.
And am going back to bed to spoon Hubby, who I think I want to rename Mr. Manic.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
I slice it in two, twist it and pull it apart. Then I cut the one half like a graph. I always take the knife and make a row of cuts, then do the other side, so the pieces almost come out in cubes.
The next side is the side with the pit. If you’ve ever cut an avocado, to get the pit out, you stab at the hard core with a knife, twist it and pull the pit out.
I miss the pit.
Instead, I hit another target I wasn’t aiming for.
I hit the flesh of my skin, right between my thumb and pointer finger, the fatty little spot that if you have a headache, you’re supposed to squeeze together in order to eliminate the headache.
It’s one of those pointed cuts, not a slice, but it feels deep and I feel like, “Oh my God, how bad is it. How bad is it bleeding? I didn’t want to look at it so I tell Diva I just cut myself and she runs to get me a band-aid while I grab paper towels and cover up the wound. So, I see that I am not hemorrhaging or even oozing blood but I feel a little nervous, and unsure, so I call my neighbor.
Neighbor First Choice doesn’t answer.
Neighbor Second Choice doesn’t answer.
Neighbor Third Choice, who should have been my first choice, answers her phone.
“Hi, I’m OK, but I just cut myself. I’m really OK, but I think I need an adult over here.”
Wonder-Neighbor is here in a flash. I let her in, then we sit on the stairs together. I explain, “I’m really OK, I shouldn’t have called. It’s not even bleedin…”
Then, Wonder-Neighbor looks at the ottoman and sees the weapons.
A camouflage gun and a 14-inch Ninja sword are on the couch. She looks at me, shocked, and then I realize, “She thinks I tried to commit suicide!”
“They’re fake!” I shout. And start laughing. I’m like, “Come on, ME? Do you really think I’d be that outta whack? My kids are here! They’re fake! They’re toys!”
And then we start cracking up over the absurdity that I just happen to call her for help, and that there are TWO weapons, which I am one of those moms who didn’t let her kid have one of those paddles with the ball stuck there with a string for fear it could take someone’s eye out. I always scowl at the thought of them playing with weapons, and here, very conveniently, are TWO weapons, and it looks like I am making a serious cry for help!
We put some cream on my 1/8 of an inch wound, which obviously, I am fine because I can type this up like the chick in the courtroom types – fast and furious – and then I stick a band-aid on it.
I tell her thanks, I love you, she loves me. We have a great neighborhood, and of course, then we laugh full-well knowing I would never do anything crazy like that in my entire life, not even if 40 Weeks never sells! Winka winka.
It’s about a half-hour later and the doorbell rings. It’s Wonder-Neighbor again.
“I just wanted to come over to check to make sure you’re all right.”
Then she eyes the toy weapons again, and we look at each other and laugh.
“I told Katie and Jeff (not her children’s real names) about it. They said, ‘Are you sure the knife wasn’t real, mom? You should go back and check!’”
Aw, come on! I have got way better things to do with my life than contemplate suicide!
All joking aside, if you do ever feel like there’s no other option, please get help. Things might be shitty, but there’s always help, and, most importantly, there’s always HOPE. If you do need help, go here: Suicide Prevention or call 1-800-273-TALK
This has been a Public Service Announcement from Manic Mom.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Hope you all had a nice Mother's Day. I had Cold Stone Creamery ice cream for dinner which is exactly what I wanted (and, if anyone can get the EXACT order in the comments, there is a prize involved here* - see restrictions below), It was pretty much a perfect day. Here I am with my babies, at lunch, which could have been a disaster cuz Diva (who is donning the blanket we keep in our car), was freezing, and therefore pouty, and I had to give her the "what-fer" a few times and gave her not one strike, but two strikes before she fully realized that "hey, it's my mom's day and I can be a diva 364 days out of the year and it's pretty much fine but I better step up today so I don't piss her off." Good thing missy, very good thing.
So, I haven't discussed this lately but I am in the process of a major DECLUTTER in order to DECLUTTER my house, my body, my mind. Last week I spent one full day purging practically everything in our basement. We no longer have scattered puzzle pieces all across the floor. There are no balls in the basement any longer (I've been a pretty lenient mom and the kids usually go downstairs for a rousing game of dodgeball. In our basement. You should see the walls. I am no longer letting them build forts in which to have barricades in order to blast nerf gun toys at one another. Nope. It is a clean place of solitude. The kids were thrilled with the change. They can color down there! They can play waitress now that the bar area has been decluttered (we haven't done that EVER since we moved here two-and-a-half years ago!). They can do crafts and watch TV, and lounge around and play Dance, Dance Revolution and I have threatened them that if I ever have to clean up their mess like that again they will be very unhappy children.
And then, I took the decluttering frame of mind upstairs into our bathroom. I had medication products that expired in 2001. I had tubes of cream that I have no idea what body parts they were to be used on. I had Noxema containers with stuff inside that looks like that cement mixture you used as kids to make crafts. No way is that going on the face. Toss, toss, and toss. I was a maniac and now everything is clutter-free and happily in a place where it belongs. And everything is something that I use regularly or plan to use soon.
The feng shui of it all is just too good to be true.
Next up, is my closet, and the clothes that unfortunately, no longer fit, but fortunately, are no longer in style! So that's one way of looking at it from a positive perspective! I will be tossing anything that I cannot button. There will be a lot of stuff.
I'm living The Secret, altering my surroundings so I can focus on getting what I want in life. I ran to Target to buy a new sprinkler for the front yard for the kids, and then had to go to the grocery store. The grocery store by the Target is convenient. While it is convenient, I loathe that grocery store. Not the chain, that particular store. I usually take a right out of my subdivision to get to the grocery store, but Target is to the left, as is the grocery store I hate. It always puts me in a bad mood. There are always lines. The stuff I need is never there. I had to stop in to get just a few things, and when I was walking in, I said to myself, "God, I hate this store."
Then, I stopped.
That is my problem. I go into the situation negatively. I think automatically that it's going to be a horrible shopping experience. I dread going there.
Today, I decided to switch my mode of thinking.
I walked into the store, and made myself smile really, really big. I wasn't smiling at ANYONE in particular. I was just smiling. And I looked at the apples and I thought, "Wow, these are the most beautiful apples I've ever seen," then I went over to the deli and thought, "Wow, what fresh looking meats and cheeses," and "How clean and nice is this store!"
Then I found the few things I needed, smiled at some customers, noted that the produce guy snuck a grape and ate it (which kind of grossed me out, thinking that I could be buying grapes someday that a strange man has been chewing on). I got up to the front of the store, where there is always, always a line, or not enough cashiers and guess what?
TWO LINES WERE WIDE OPEN!
I actually had to make the decision which lane I would go through. I really hope I didn't hurt the other cashier's feelings when I didn't choose her.
So, the whole shopping trip was exactly opposite of what I usually experience because i followed the Law of Attraction via The Secret and my magnetism was aligned with whatever it is on earth that lets us be happy and I had a great experience.
And then, I got into my car to drive home...
And I had to go.
Like bad. Really, really bad. I won't go into details because I know some of you can be kind of squeamish, but I concentrated on The Secret and told myself, "I HAVE THE SECRET!" Kind of like how He-Man cartoons started out with him pulling a sword out of a rock and yelling, "I HAVE THE POWER!"
I was really and truly saying these phrases out loud:
I HAVE THE SECRET!
I HAVE THE POWER!
I WILL NOT POO IN MY PANTS! (No, I didn't really say that last one, but was definitely thinking it.)
I was also thinking the whole way, "I'm not going to be stopped by a red light! I will not miss any of the lights!" And you know what? I didn't miss a light!
I got home, did my business and whoo! What a great feeling to know that The Secret works (and that I didn't have a majorly embarrassing incredibly awkward accident in my car!).
And, along the lines of me decluttering my life, the reason I had the urge to do what I had to do when I was in the car is, I'm sure of, this new product I am test-driving, if ya know what I mean: Detox 7. Today is Day 2 of the seven-day detox program, and let me tell you, so far, it's good. The only problem was I was totally unprepared to drink a cup of tree bark and root, leaves, and other herbally dirty things. I swear it was like drinking a cup of dirt shoveled from the back yard. But today, I was prepared, and mixed the fiber breakfast starter drink with green tea. Oh yeah Baby, clean Manic Out!
And I think it's working, body and mind because I was so productive today and upbeat and clutter-free and here is a quick list of the positive things I've done today, in no particular order:
Woke Up (always a plus)
Didn't have the major daily urge I usually have to crawl back into bed with Tukey to snooze while he watches Curious George and Clifford
Did a load of laundry that I promise I will fold and put away later
Went for a power walk
Killed a fly in the kitchen (come on, you all know how fabulous it is to get a fly that's buzzin' the kitchen!)
Went to Target to buy the kids a sprinkler, some buckets, and jump ropes
Went to the grocery store I no longer hate
Zapped two wasp hives while in the process of being built
Wrote this blog post
Got three kids through the shower
Passed out a load of snacks and juice boxes
Did three hours of freelance work (Check out some quizzes I wrote here: BabyZone Quizzes). They're fun to do!
Entertained the nine or 10 or 12 children in my front yard via the sprinkler. A couple of them started belting out at the top of their lungs:
"CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES, COME ON!"
They played Rover, Red Rover, and also a new, fun version of Duck, Duck, Goose in which the Duckee had a bucket of water and when he chose the Ducker, he would pour the water over that person's head. Good times, yes siree.
They are cracking me up. My yard is a mess. My house is now still a mess because I was outside with them. Dinner's nowhere near being made (even though it's just going to be chicken caesar salads), but hey, these kids made some memories today. This is the kind of 'hood they should grow up in, and these are the kind of memories they should have!
Here are some pictures:
Next up for decluttering--continue with the current novel I am writing. You can read the first chapter on my website under the tab, Novels. Let me know what you think. And any editors reading, if you love it, I promise I can get you the finished product by the end of summer (see, it's that Secret thing working for me again!)
*Sorry Swishy, as much as I love you, you are not eligible to participate because I think you know already what my fave is. Prize will be given to first commenter to guess what flavor and what mix-ins I got, but you don't have to guess the size or if I had it in a waffle bowl or styrofoam bowl cuz that would just be too dang hard! Winner will receive a trip to Cold Stone Creamery or another local ice creamery if you don't have Cold Stone near you. And sorry also to my blood relatives, and my marital relatives, you too, are ineligible to play.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
And that's what we should be thinking of on a day like today.
So, I guess I am saying Happy Mother's Day to all those people who have brought the people that I know into my life, and I hope you took the time today to acknowledge a special woman in your life, whether it be your sister, you mother, your aunt, a cousin, your grandmother, a great-aunt, a friend.
I'm not sure how many Mother's Days in my life that I've not been able to talk to my mother but I'm thinking that where she is right now, she may have access to the internet, and surely she is checking in with Manic Mom. So, mom, I love you very much and thank you for the life you gave me. Without you, I am literally nothing.
Friday, May 11, 2007
I want to be real on this blog so I am tryin gnow to chance change any errors ... AJERS GO UPSTAIRS...!!! hE IS DOWN HERE INTERRUPPPING ME!!
OK. so, i'ts the rirday Friday before Mother's Day. I am a mother. It is MY weekend. And if I have a hanovboer that spells ahangober ... shit... hangover, tomomoorrwo then I will be M . A D...
DSear God. Give me my fingers back so i can use this keyborar already.
OK, njherehs a good recipe for you....
Take Pillsbury rolls, one stick of butter. one contairner of blue chese. cheese. melt butter and bl;ue cheese togehtrer. cut bisguicts.. hold y hholy shit i apologive... cut bisquits into quarters (that means into fours)... satuarate saturate the bisquit quatersr in the melted butter and blue chese mixtyure and then bac... bake.
Forget it. I suck. This is a poor excuse of a blog post. but hey, this is Manic Mom on the Eve of the Mothe's Day... MOTHER'S day weekend.
Will leave you with this. I bought a gift for Hubby for Mother's Day that I am MAKING HIM wear all DAY LONG.
Here it is. Do you think he'll wear it?
HappY mother's day to you all! Good NIght, and pray the Non-Hangover Fairy visits me!
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
But this a.m., Tukey and I were laying in bed, after I started cleaning out my closet and got sidetracked by my bed. I mean, after all, it was just lying there, my bed, looking so forlorn and lonely, I just felt the need to crawl all up in it and snuggle with Tukey while we debated the pros and cons of watching Blues Clues vs. Oprah. Somehow, I won out and we tuned in to Oprah (Oh yeah, I know how--I lured him with the fact that part of the show was being filmed in Disney).
Anyway, so I just spent the hour from 9 a.m. to 10 a.m. bawling my freaking eyes out over Oprah's Cheers To You episode where she surprised amazing women. If you could have heard the noises I was making. At one point during my crying-but-happy-crying love fest for Oprah I really did think, "Oh my gosh, if anyone could hear me right now, they wouldn't know if I was seizing/having an orgasm/crying/laughing/shouting at the TV just because/cheering for the Olympics/God Knows What!" Tukey kept asking me, "Are you crying? I see water on your face," and I kept explaining I was crying because I was happy that all these good people were on Oprah and that the one lady who raised five children on her own also put herself through college, and then nursing school, and then Yale School of Medicine and because of Oprah, her loans of over $160,000 were going to be wiped out! I was crying because of the lady who helped 570 families adopt or be strong enough to keep their babies, and she helped that many families become families! I was crying because... well, maybe I was crying because it was any excuse not to go back into that black hole of a closet and continue the wretched job of excavating the wreckage that is my wardrobe in the hopes of finding any summer items that remotely will fit this fat a$$ of mine.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
It’s really strange how this publishing/writing/author industry thing works out, and how closely connected people really are. When I first “met” Allison Winn Scotch, it was because she was writing an article for Glamour magazine and contacted me for a quote. (Read Allison's article in Glamour, January 2006, Things That Change After Marriage.)
We had no idea that both of us were on our quest for fiction publication. We had no idea that we both were on the same internet writer’s loop where we’d spend time learning about the craft, and helping others do the same, asking questions of those who were in the race ahead of us.
Then, one day, we realized we “knew” each other, and since then, I think it’s safe to say we’ve become internet pals. Allison has been a great sounding board for me when I need support, motivation, inspiration for my fiction, and today is the day she has been waiting for, and the day I hope to achieve eventually with my own novel.
Allison’s novel, The Department of Lost and Found comes out today, and she sent me a signed copy, which I will add to my cherished collection of signed copies of books from my favorite authors, Jennifer Weiner and Emily Giffin.
Happy Publication Day, Allison!
Now everyone, go out and get The Department of Lost and Found. It’s a great read, with a spirited and spunky main character, and a message that’ll leave you sighing with contentment in the end!
Would Manic Mom steer you wrong?
Here's my review:
When Natalie Miller’s live-in boyfriend discovers she’s got a lump in her breast, he bolts. And leaves Natalie battling cancer virtually alone (less a couple already-occupied girlfriends—one planning her wedding, the other, writing cover stories for national magazines). Her parents are also a bit preoccupied, and not very sympathetic, but it might just seem that way because Natalie is such an independent and strong person, who dreams of being the first female president.
When cancer strikes, Natalie goes at it, determined to beat the bastard. She’s feisty and strong, and hits her treatments full-on! Throughout her crusade, she also battles the curiosity as to why every guy she’s thought she’s ever loved has disappeared on her, and she vows to contact them all to find out why. She’s definitely not looking to rekindle any old flames, but when rocker-boy Jake soars in and nurses her through her ordeal, she can’t help but think that he’s been the one all along.
Or has he? Because Natalie’s too-hot-to-be-my-ob/gyn-but-he-is-my ob/gyn gynecologist is suddenly in the picture, providing her with pot to jumpstart her appetite, while his presence is jumpstarting her libido.
Along with her cancer battle, lovelife woes, therapy sessions, diary entries, an odd fixation on Bob Barker, and a career she’s much too dedicated to, Natalie proves that the disease doesn’t make you who you are, or who you’re going to be. For some, it’s just a snag in the journey, and Natalie takes the high road with determination, charm and wit to beat the son of a bastard disease!
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Even MORE so disturbing is there are no fat people depicted. (Addendum five minutes later: Fat people found.)
What do you guys think of this? Art? Or just an excuse to get nekkid in pubic? I'm not sure what I think of it. I am pretty positive though, that I would not volunteer this bod up for one of his photo shoots. I think it would take a pretty (pick one of the following:
d. All of the above)
type of person to actually WANT to do this. Or am I wrong? How many of YOU would do this?
PS--also, how many of you skipped right past my pun?
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Then, I cry. I flop onto my bed and start crying. Is it my period that's coming? Is it because I know the kids are going to make me crazy when he's gone? Is it because I'm just moody? Is it because I'm going to miss him terribly? I don't know. I just cry. I'm crying right now, and I don't know why.
Ajers has a game. It's about 10:00. I have to take him to the game which starts at 10:30. I am waiting so we can all say goodbye to daddy. He's like, "Doesn't Ajers have to be at his game," all accusatorily, like I'm not keeping up my part of the deal as mom. Like it's going to freaking matter if he's 15 minutes late, which is really 15 minutes BEFORE the stupid game starts. I tell him that we were going to wait until HE left so we could all say goodbye to him. This makes me feel like I'm a bad mom, and come on, it's a stupid baseball game where they just stand in a field three-quarters of the time. Who the fuck cares if he's on time, rather than a half-hour early.
I yell to him, "Then take him!" And I start crying. And Ajers gets in the car, and I'm crying and he hugs me and tells me he'll call me when he lands, and you know I won't wash his dirty t-shirt he slept in last night, and if there's a coffee cup out there that isn't washed, I'll keep it there until he returns and I'm writing this in the hopes of counter-jinxing it so nothing bad will happen when he's gone, and as I'm writing this, I totally know my mom is going to read and freak out, but MOM, DO NOT WORRY ABOUT ME! I am going to have a Cinco de Mayo party tonight with all the neighbors and my world-famous Margaritas so I will be fine. Or just drunk and wallowing in my self-pity (See, I can laugh!)
The phone just rang. He has to come back after dropping AJers at his game. He "forgot" something.
Because I love him.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Any editor-takers out there? Hee hee.
Anyway, isn't there an Elton John song called, "Someone Saved My Life Tonight?" Well, someone saved MY life today, and it's Sweet, Southern, Spirited (and let's not forget S M A R T, ANDIE, who wrote this in the comments after my toilet debacle:
When I see the water start to rise on my toilet, I immediately turn the water off (you know the little twirly valve on the left side of the toilet. Then I plunge. 95% of the time, once you plunge, all of the water drains out and you're all set!
WE INTERRUPT THIS POST FOR A VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT:
It was not Manic Mommy who left anything in the toilet that would cause this latest overflow! She immediately called Hubby to accuse him, and he denied vehemently, but Manic is not too sure as he spends a LOT of time in this particular bathroom. Manic knows now which toilets are safe in the house so she avoids this particular one at all costs so as not to be blamed for situations.
So, thanks to Andie, this is what happened this a.m.
I peed. No big deal. A pee. Everyone does it. Even teeny-tiny bugs, I am sure. Not too much toilet paper. But somehow, I had a flash maybe before I made, or maybe it was after I made, but I thought to myself, "hmmm, maybe this is not right?" Perhaps there was paper in the toilet; it hadn't been pre-flushed. I should have known.
I flush. Diva is in the bathroom with me, the door is open, we are a very open and friendly family when it comes to the potty (which brings me to another story I will share in a moment, having to do with bathroom stuff too). So, Diva is brushing her teeth before school...
YES! The tooth is STILL there, and on her birthday, she was able to eat: brownies, cookies, pizza, TCBY yogurt, cotton candy. Are you sick from the 'idea' of all that crap yet? I am... she managed to eat all that, and the tooth, it's still there. But we're not worried about the tooth anymore. We've got bigger fish to fry: the toilet...
So, I flush. It's yellow water. And it starts rising. I panic. I search around. I think I might try to grab that garbage can and try that stupid trick again, try to 'catch' the water with the rounded lid-shaped garbage can... DUH. Then, my mind shuffles to recall all the great comments and suggestions everyone left me, and I think...
someone wrote to tell me...
what was it?
The water's rising, and this time it's REALLY yellow and I DO NOT want that on my feet...
who told me to do what?!
The water continues to rise and is just about to come over the lip of the toilet, and then it CLICKS, my mind does, that is...
And then I remember. TURN THE KNOBBY THING DOWN BELOW! TURN THE KNOBBY THING DOWN BELOW!
The water stopped just at the edge of disaster!
Thank God Andie saved my life because I would have died had this happened again.
You blog readers ROCK! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Another quick bathroom share, because while I'm at it, I might as well keep on keeping on...
We went to a mall yesterday before Chuck E. Cheese, and stopped in at Macy's. One or two or three of the kids had to pee so we find a family restroom.
I'm peeing. And then Ajers is standing to the side and notices a machine on the wall. A silver machine that takes quarters.
A silver machine that takes quarters so that you can purchase a NAPKIN.
"What a rip off!" he announces. "You have to PAY for a napkin in here?!"
Diva and I giggle cuz she kind of knows what they are and kind of what happens to a woman. She tries to explain to Ajers.
"It's for a mom's underwear. In case some pee comes out." she says.
"Ewwww. Mom! You're like an old person who pees her pants?" Ajers yells.
In the meantime, Tukey has discovered the paper towels, grabs one and shows it to Ajers, announcing, "Here are the napkins Ajers, and THESE ONES ARE FREE!"
And just in time, we wash our hands and get ready to leave when Ajers notices the OTHER sign on the machine...
"Mom, what's a tampoon?"
Oh what fun it is!
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
I cannot believe it. An educated professional dentist could not get my daughter to comply long enough to stick one digit of one finger into her mouth to get the “effer” out.
And, it’s her eighth birthday today.
I took her to have her tooth extracted on her birthday, the only day of the year which constitutes extra, extra special treatment, and gifts, and love, and yummy treats, and what do I do? I take her to the dentist, where she is back there for over 37 minutes, and I am waiting in the front, thinking, “Oh my God, this is taking too long, why is this taking too long” and I’m raising my eyebrows and turning my ears toward the door to try to get a glimmer of an idea of what’s going on back there, and I don’t hear anything so I ask the receptionist, “Is she OK?”
“She seems fine.”
I know this is exactly how I will feel on a day, maybe twenty or twenty-five years down the road, if I am in a waiting room while she and her husband are at work trying to get a baby out. And I’ll wish I was there with her, holding her hand, wiping her face, telling her it’s OK and that it’s almost over and the pain won’t last, and as soon as that tiny little thing gets out of her body she’ll feel so much better.
The dentist finally called me back there. I was like, “WTF, THE TOOTH IS STILL IN HER MOUTH?” Is he not a professional? Doesn’t he do this for little kids like all the time? Is this totally abnormal behavior for a child with a loose tooth?
I try to calm her down, because she’s crying and her face is blotchy and it’s her birthday for crying out loud and what kind of mother am I to do this to my child on her birthday. I try to hold her hands so the doctor can get in there.
He tells me, “I can’t do it. Ten years ago, twenty years ago, I could do this with no problem, but the climate in this town…” He thinks I’ll sue him! Or that one of his patients (and the office is filling up) will file a suit on him for mistreating a little girl, a little girl who happens to be celebrating her birthday, a little girl screaming hysterically on her birthday—what a way to say Happy Freaking Birthday.
We leave. In the car, she is crying, and I start crying too. “I’m so sorry, honey! I feel so terrible, I am so, so, so sorry! I didn’t want your birthday to start out this way,” I say.
“It’s OK mommy. It’s OK.”
You know, I don’t really know if it is OK. And now my baby girl, who is eight today, is at school, with a dangling tooth that’s causing her to talk like she has a mouthful of spit, causing her to not be able to eat her favorite foods on her birthday, causing her to get so upset she doesn’t eat but instead vomits stomach acid.
I can tell you this for certain. She will always remember her eighth birthday. I just hope that later today, I can make this a happier and brighter day for my precious, precious little Diva Girl.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
It is so hard to be sympathetic to her. Saturday a.m. she got up, the tooth is twisted in her mouth, on the verge of falling out, all I need is to get in there with one swift PLUCK, and the world’s problems in Manic’s house will be solved. (Until the next fricking tooth decides to jump ship.)
She sat on my lap Saturday morning for over an hour while we did the “Loose-tooth dance.” She crying, sweating, breaking out into little bumpy spots on her forehead, drooling (because she cannot swallow for fear of inhaling the tooth), kicking, yelling, and then talking like this:
Mmmhhhi jssst wnnnt mhhhhy mhhhtooth mmhout. (I just want my tooth out).
On Saturday I plied her with the promise of playing on Barbie.com and that was enough to get her to forget about it for a while.
Yesterday, after she got off the bus, it was bad, but not bad enough that she couldn’t play outside with a friend until 6 p.m. Then, the drama started up again. She and I sat in this office from 7:30 p.m. till after 10 with me trying to coax her, bribe her, wit her to get the tooth out. Do you know how I wish I was brave enough to hold down her arms and yank it out of her mouth? I so wish I could. I took a flashlight into her room last night, thinking one quick motion and it would be all over. I even told her last night I would maybe do it.
I took her to McDonald’s and ordered her the largest milkshake in the entire free world and she could not drink it. Who can not drink a milkshake? People with their MOUTHS WIRED SHUT can manage to drink a milkshake. She, however, was unable to. Oh, the drama that is my daughter.
At the ungodly hour of 6:30 a.m. today, she comes into my room and starts yelling, “Mhhhdid mew take it mhout?”
“MHHHDID MEW TAKE IT MHOUT?”
She had WANTED me to take the tooth out while she slept. I swear we have wasted eight hours of our lives at least so far on worrying about this one little tooth. Her birthday is tomorrow. She is upstairs asleep in my bed right now, and when she wakes up, I am driving her to the dentist and begging him to please take it out, which is exactly what I had to do when she had the Nanny McPhee front tooth hanging just like this one.
Maybe the baby teeth know something we don’t. Maybe they’re afraid to be sent to the tooth fairy. Maybe they’re holding out for more money? Maybe they’re smarter than we are. I don’t know, but I do know these two things:
1. I am so glad Diva is not my youngest because I don’t want the tooth-falling-out experience of my last child to be such a miserable time. And I know when Tukey starts losing his teeth, he’s gonna just yank out the loose ones and say, “Hey mom, better call the tooth fairy, I’ve got another one for her.”
2. I am fearing the day Diva yells to me from the bathroom, “MOM! There’s blood on the toilet paper!”
Addendum: OK, just as I was going to hit the PUBLISH button to send this post out into cyberworld, Diva starts screaming for me from upstairs, so I run up, and there's puke on the carpet and she's saying, "Mhhi Mhhhhbarfed." There's yellow-acid puke in the bathroom. The girl has no food in her stomach and she is so worked up over this tooth thing that it makes her shake, get hot, puke, get the chills. And she just reminded me the last time she barfed was the first time she lost a tooth.
She asked if I could bring up her milkshake that I kept in the fridge from last night. She thought she could try to take a sip. The girl sucked on that straw and made the same sounds a newborn does when drinking from its mother's breast! Complete with the happy sighing and the sounds of the internal digestive system gurgling, saying, "Thank you! Thank you for putting something into this empty cavern that is my stomach!"
After she sucked and sucked and sucked, she looked up at me and smiled and said, "That is so good. Thank you so much mommy!"
I Heart My Baby Doll Diva Girl!
Addendum to the addendum: She puked up the chocolate milkshake. All over my bed. The tooth, it is stll there.