Saturday, December 31, 2005

Cute Grocery Store Pepsi Delivery Guy

So, it's New Year's Eve Day and I wake up at 7:00 a.m. I lay there and debate if I should get up and go to the store now to just get it over with because somehow, I am hosting a rather large neighborhood New Year's Eve festival tonight, and as the minutes tick away toward countdown, the guest list keeps climbing. (So, come on by if you're in the 'hood.)

I decide just to forego any more sleep, get up and throw on whatever clothes are nearest my bed, brush the gunk from my teeth (and the tongue--you always must brush your tongue, and now, you will probably be thinking of Manic Mom whenever you attempt this hygenical habit), and head out.

I am also heading out for the last grandenonfatsugarfreevanillalattenowhipextrahot of the year, and possibly of my life (see previous resolution post). It was a good thing the barrista chick put too much sugar-free vanilla in it and it didn't taste all that great and that I burned my tongue (yes, that same tongue I previously brushed). So, this is probably a blessing that my final grandenonfatsugarfreevanillalattenowhipextrahotsoIburnedmytonguehot was not anything I remotely enjoyed. Farewell, thee starbucks, hello an extra $15 a week.

I take my list and weave through the aisles at the store, grateful I have decided to get this chore over with, because we all know how I get panic attacks whenever I walk into the grocery store, or the kitchen for that matter. It's no wonder I have a problem with food -- I can't cook, I hate grocery stores. Why do I have a weight problem when anything involving shopping or cooking gives me a panic attack?!?! I guess it's the eating part I can do just fine.

I am browsing the tonic waters, trying to decide if I should get diet tonic water or regular, and please, help me out on this one -- IT'S WATER! So, there's fattening water, or non-fattening water, and how do the two differ? Holy cripes.

I am ready to exit the aisle and move onto the next food search from my list and I realize I am baracaded in by a crate full of Pepsi products and a cute Pepsi delivery guy. A young, cute, Pepsi delivery guy.

Cute Pepsi Delivery Guy is standing there, unsure of what to do because he needs to get into the aisle and we are both in each other's way. So, rather than turn my cart around and have to maneuver away so he cannot see my fat butt, I decide to make a joke and come at him head on with my cart, which, by the way, is happily stocked with Pepsi two-liter products that are on sale.

He's standing there, with some kind of grin on his face, and I can't tell what it means, like is he annoyed that I'm in the way, and he's just standing there trying to be polite, or does he think it's funny that I have to move around him?

"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying!" I joke. And smile. Of course, I smile.

Cute Pepsi Delivery Guy says, "I was just thinking I like your sweatshirt."

I look over my shoulder, blush, look down at my sweatshirt. He's talking to me. He likes my sweatshirt. Is it because I am jiggling? I didn't put on a bra! Oh my, and I blush some more.

I look down again at my sweatshirt. It's like 10 years old and I stole it from my younger brother and it's gray and black and it says Polo Jeans Co. Ralph Lauren. Not sexy, not cute, not clingy, not attractive. I haven't showered in two days, my hair is kept back by a pair of sunglasses. Hell, I haven't even washed my face!

The only thing I can think of to say is, "Uh, thanks." Like he was offering up some major compliment, or, oh my God, flirting with me!

In my head, I'm singing: He likes my sweatshirt! He likes my sweatshirt! Cute Pepsi Delivery Guy likes my sweatshirt. I sing through the aisle, doing a secret happy dance.

Later, after I check out, I sneak a peak down Cute Pepsi Delivery Guy's aisle, and there he is, being nice to another person, an employee of the store. I steal a glance at him once more, just to put his face and body--that cute, strong, delivery-guy bod--to memory, and I see, for the first time, why he liked my shirt. He is also wearing a gray Polo shirt. Soulmates! I knew there was something there! Cute Pepsi Delivery Guy and I are soulmates! We are wearing matching shirts! But I immediately dismiss this fantasy because we all know in truth, I am a Diet Coke girl.

Nonetheless, Cute Pepsi Delivery Guy has got me thinking. I wonder if he does this just to make unshowered, mussed-up hair, thirty-something moms shopping at ungodly hours of the day feel better about themselves?

And I have to say, wherever you are Cute Pepsi Delivery Guy, even though it meant nothing to you, just by giving me that little spec of acknowledgment, even if you were just making fun of my fashionista look, even if you were slying joking because I was sans bra and a bit jiggly this morning, thanks. Thanks for noticing!

And with that, my friends, I leave you with the final Manic Mom post of 2005. You can shoot down memory lane by going to the September posts here, and clicking to find my archives, or you can just wait for the future installments of the year 2006, where I will hopefully make one of my dreams come true and get a freaking book deal.

Thank you all for taking the time to stop by Manic Mom's Mental Myriads, and for your fun and endearing comments and suggestions, your feedback and your thoughts. I'd love to hear where you plan to be at midnight, and what you plan to be doing at that moment where the year moves up another digit. And, if you're reading this post-2005 and hungover, what did you do to ring in the New Year?

Hope 2006 brings you happy memories, healthy days and whatever in life makes you happiest!

Thursday, December 29, 2005

A Cow Chewing Cud (And Her New Year's Resolutions)

That's what it would sound like if you could hear me chewing my gum right now.

What the hell is "Cud" anyway? I'm too lazy right now to look it up.

So, here's a randomly brainstormed resolution list I am going to scale down in the next coming months I am sure, but I guess it's a start, and I bet you can probably all figure out what I'm going to say, right? You probably think, "Oh great, Manic Mom is going to say she needs to stop eating crap and start writing more because she's lately been complaining a lot about eating too much and writing too less.

So, if you guessed that stuff, you're probably right! Here goes:

1. Cut out expensive trips to Starbucks for my grandenonfatsugarfreevanillalattenowhipextrahot. (Okay, not 'cut-out' as in completely cut out, but maybe just tone down the latte intake to maybe just two times a week. That's do-able, right?)

2. Get my fat ass on the Dread-mill every single day and go for at least two miles or as long as Oprah is interesting. This one, I can do. This one, I MUST DO!

3. Get back on track with Weight Watchers and with counting, (AND WRITING DOWN) daily points intake. One good thing about my holiday weight gain is I can now add a couple points as I think I've managed to work my way up into the higher points-intake bracket, which I guess, actually is NOT A GOOD THING BECAUSE THAT JUST MEANS I GOT FATTER!

4. Attend Weight Watchers meetings weekly.

5. Work it into my schedule so that I am working at least 10 payable hours a week so I can start making some real money.

6. Use every single free hour I am sans children for writing fiction/querying agents/editing novel that currently sucks.

7. Accept the fact that 40 Weeks may never be commercially published if I haven't secured a reputable agent I fall completely in love with (and she/he vice versa with my writing and me) by ... June 30, 2006. There it's on paper, or computer screen, or whatever, so I need to be accountable for this.

8. Finish first draft of Lemons/Not My Memoir novel I am currently letting mull around on various microsoft documents and scrap papers and my mind by sometime in the spring.

9. Attend the writer's conference in April I want to attend.

10. Continue to be the kind, loving, sympathetic, fun, caring, giving, generous, laughable mother that I have been to my three doting and adorable children. Ha. Are you laughing? I am.

11. Scratch #10. Just be a good mommy to my good kids.

12. Have more sex with hubby.

13. Scratch #12. Just be a good wife to my good husband. (Okay, and have a little more sex too.)

14. Prepare at least three weekly, nutritious family dinners where Hubby, Ajers, DivaBitchDoll, Tukey and I can all sit and eat and chat about our day. This will be a rather simple resolution seeing as I got a TERRIFIC Christmas gift that I requested from my in-laws! (Okay, I just tried to find a website to give you a link to it but since I couldn't, I'll just tell you: It is a George Foreman Lean, Mean, Fat-Reducing Machine! And can you believe it, I've made two family meals in a row since getting this amazing gift!)

15. Blog-post daily, but...

16. Limit my surf-time to once or twice a week rather than getting sucked in to reading all my favorite blogs every single day. This will allow Resoltions No. 5 and No. 6 to happen easily, I'm sure.

17. I should say no French Fries or chocolate, but that would be okay if I write the amounts down and allocate WW points for these treats.

18. Of course, I almost forgot this one. It has to do with drinking. Which I am going to try not to drink for the first few weeks of January, and then, once I see how much more enriched my life has become, maybe I'll enter myself into the Twelve Step Program... Nah, maybe, if I can abstain for a few weeks, I will slowly allow myself a couple glasses of wine each weekend, you know, just so I can sit and relax and reflect on how much more enriched my life has become because of these resolutions!

19. Will think of more to come, but for now, I'm going to work on No. 10 and 11. Okay, not really, but kind of... I'm going to bond with them while I put the adorable and doting little rats to bed! And then, I'm going to go write something that will probably be crappy, but at least I'll be working toward some of my resolutions.

PS... We all know all of these resolutions are not realistic, but I figure if I at least make a list, it's a start. What resolutions are you going to attempt?

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Post-Holiday Fat Girl Is Here!

Dinner two nights in a row has been frosted walls from the Gingerbread House and Diet Coke.

There is a need for Rolaids because of heartburn that hadn't existed before.

Can no longer look into a mirror at myself without scrutinizing the flab that's gurgling over the upper sides of the underwear...

...and speaking of underwear....

The need has risen to dig deep into the underwear drawer to find the "In-Case-Of Emergency-Wear-These-Bigger-Underwear underwear."

Tukey now refers to my backside as a "big shovvy butt," which translates into "big chubby butt."

Knees crack more than usual when climbing stairs.

Heart-rate speeds up more than usual when climbing stairs, or exerting any kind of mild energy.

Bras, while often usually uncomfortable anyway, are now extremely uncomfortable, therefore as the case being right now, are not worn.

I'm growing my hair longer - a diversionary tactic I've often used when gaining weight... fatter, longer hair; thinner, get hair cut short... and on the same subject...

I am rarely shaving my legs.

The track suits (pretend it's a J.Lo outfit) are out in full force, and jeans are only donned in extreme social emergencies.

The dreadmill is getting dusty.

Breakfast a couple of days ago consisted of a Seven-Layer bar and a Diet Pepsi.

I don't eat breakfast, but am starved by 1:00 p.m. (no need to comment on the importance of breakfast daily--I know! I know!)

During intimate acts between loving partner and myself, instead of thinking about the usual, "What am I going to have to eat later on?" I'm thinking, "Oh wow, I am really fat now." Oh, and still, the usual, "Please hurry up."

But, as bad as I am feeling about my Fat Girl Emerging, I'll let her stay for a few more days because she's not going to be around in 2006, I can tell you that for sure!
And while Fat Girl is okay for the time being, and while she has enjoyed the trips to McDonald's, the stacks and stacks of Christmas cookies and treats, the countless pounds of carbohydrates that have been inhaled the past month, she ain't staying because I've done it before, and I'll do it again. I have absolutely no problem kicking Fat Girl in the ass and telling her to get out of my life because...

Super Power Thinner Girl Will Prevail!

PS... If you feel like voting for a Best Of Mommy blog, even if it's not mine, you can go here to cast your nomination. (I don't know if a Blogger needs more than one nomination, but I imagine if more people voice their thoughts, the better for that Blogger). There are also other categories of fun blogs you may want to know about, so please, check it out, and if you happen to like Manic Mom's Mental Myriads, I would in no way object to you nominating me, or anyone else you like. So, go here to Mommy Bloggers and make sure to include the URL that you want to nominate! Thanks!

Monday, December 26, 2005

Exhale, Deep Sigh, Breathe...

It's over. Ahhhhh.

Just take it all in. The wrapping paper, the boxes, the cardboard crap, the ornaments, the lights, the tree, the holiday candles, and say Ahhhhh.

How terrible is it that I've already started taking down a few decorations? Please, no bah humbugging the Manic. No throwing stones at me! It wasn't intentional. Actually, it is all hubby's fault, but I'll get to why later. First off, a recap of the past few days...

Thursday, we went to a wine-tasting party that was pretty interesting. Most of the guys there wanted to taste other champagne than what was offered by the Sommolier or whatever that guy is called, the Wine Guy. The guys at the party wanted the Champagne of Beers--High Life, Miller Style.

And I have to say, at the past four or five social events, I have done what I haven't done in a while and I'm pretty proud of myself. I have stayed in control. I have not gotten wasted. I have not fallen into Christmas trees, which is more than I can say for some people attending the same events as I. I have not spent the whole next day recovering over a toilet bowl wishing for death. It's been quite refreshing.

And, after New Year's Eve, I am going on a drinking sabbatical. Pick yourself off the floor, but yes, I am going to attempt to not drink for a while. I have yet to determine if that "for a while" is a week or two, or a month or two, but, it's something I've been thinking about and well, it's a place to start.

Anyway, after the wine-tasting party, we had a family day and did the Chicago thing. We've been back here more than a year, and the kids have yet to see Chicago up close and personal. Well, we took the train into the city, toured Sears Tower (rip-off),

the kids took their first taxi ride, we went to Millenium Park and saw the Bean, and to top off the day, we actually rode the Ferris Wheel in the middle of winter!

That night, we went to neighbors' for a great dinner and lots of liquor, but I still held my own, even though some of the guests ended up playing Capture The Flag late night but that's all I can say about that evening.

Christmas Eve we went to church. Oh my gosh, can you believe Manic is R.E.L.I.G.I.O.U.S? Shhh, don't blow my cover, but I love God and Jesus and even went to Catholic school for 11 years (one of those years, a most impressionable one, was spent at a Catholic All-Girl's School -- Boy, are the secrets being revealed tonight or what???). While we're at it, with the religious confessions, I might as well tell you during those Catholic School years, I was chosen to play The Virgin Mary (yes, that virgin) in our Seventh Grade performance of the night Jesus was born. I didn't have any words to say, because apparently, when Mary gave birth to Jesus, nothing happened--maybe the stable boy upped her epidural early on in the evening, because you gotta believe she didn't do that in a stable, surrounded by stinky animals, and hay, and other crap and not have any sort of mind-altering or pain-killing substances to get her through all that!

Digressing here, but, when the play was over, I had to stand and walk out in the procession and when I stood up, I realized my feet had fallen asleep and were all prickly pins-and-needles because the only thing I had been doing for the past 45 minutes was sitting on my knees holding a plastic doll and no blood was being circulated to my lower extremeties. So, I nearly fell off the stage and passed out. Impressionable I tell you.

Christmas morning... well, Christmas Eve, it was a bitch to get Ajers to bed because he is now at that eight-year-old-I-am-very-doubtful-Santa-Can-Hit-All-Those-Houses-In-One-Night-So-I'm-Going-To-Stay-Awake-All-Night stage. Hubby had to sleep with Ajers in the guest bedroom and I think this was one of the first Christmas Eves I have slept alone, in a very, very long time. I woke up in the bed sideways.

So, long story long, and I'm sorry I'm boring you all, but I'm sitting in my New Chair Hubby got me for Christmas, and while it certainly is not the two carat each diamond stud earrings I requested, it might as well be because his faith in my desire to write is just as good! See, he purchased my brand-new ergonomically correct and comfy office chair, a new desk lamp so I can see when I'm writing (which I have forgotten to put on, I just realized) and a new end table so I can put more files and notes and spirals into and not have piles of crap all over the office floor.

And do you know why he purchased these things for me? Because he believes in me, and he believes in my desire to be a published author someday, and his belief just sparks more desire in me to work harder at finding my dream agent, of getting my book in perfect order and of getting a two-book, six-digit (okay, I'll settle for five) publishing contract. And the gifts he has given me might as well be those honking diamond earrings because as soon as I get my first advance for whatever first book I happen to sell, whether it's 40 Weeks or some other unknown novel stuck in the back of my head, or half-written on a spiral, you can bet your bootie that I'm going out and buying myself those damned earrings!

So, that is why I have started taking down decorations. Because Hubby got me some great presents in order to get my writing life organized, and it just so happens that I had to do some cleaning in my office, which led to removing the tree in here, which led to taking down some ornaments, which led to....

It's kind of like that If You Give A Mouse A Cookie book, except this one is called, If You Give Manic A New Chair For Her Office...

Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, and if you're wondering what the real meaning of it all is, I learned it on Christmas Eve at the children's service at our church. It's three little words, and they are: I. Forgive. You.

Which, I really didn't understand. I thought he was going to say I Love You, but the whole I. Forgive. You. thing will work because I'll just tell the kids that's what it means and then if they are fighting they'll just have to stop because then I'll just have to threaten them with the words we learned at Christmas church and if they don't forgive each other, then they can bet their little asses there will not be any presents the next year because that's what the Pastor said at church!

And is it too early to start in on the:
"You better watch it! Santa comes in only 363 more days!" ???

Saturday, December 24, 2005

Have A Manic Christmas!

In case you've ever wondered where the real Santa resides, he is in Bensalem, PA, at The Neshaminy Mall:

Wishing you all -- family, personal friends, friends I've met through blogging, through writing, through living on the east, to moving back to the midwest, to my neighbors --

Thanks for hanging out with me, for making me laugh, for offering support and suggestions, for commiserating with me, for listening to all my griping about everything!

Wishing you joy and happiness, prosperity and peace, laughter and love throughout the holiday season and through all of 2006!

Happy Holidays!
Manic Mom

Best Of Blog Awards

Wow! My friend and fellow writer, Novelist In Training, nominated me for a Best of Blog in the category of Best Mommy Blog. And I didn't even have to beg her to do so!

I'm not sure how it works, but I'm really excited about this, and I don't know if more nominations mean more chance of winning, but if you'd like to give me a teeny little tiny FREE Christmas present, I would love it if you would pop on over HERE, scroll down to the end and nominate Manic Mom's Mental Myriads for this award!

That would rock, and Caryn/Anna, you rock too! Thanks!

Up next, a photo montage from Manic Beuhler's (Family) Day Off aka Christmas in Chicago Manic Style!

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

So Many Emotions; So Little Time

Feel like laughing, feel like crying?

Feel like having your daughter nudge you and tell you to "Stop crying!"?

Feel like eating some popcorn, with just a little bit o' butter?

Feel like slamming a humongo Diet Coke that'll make you have to pee six times?

Then go see This Movie, particularly with your family and you'll be doing all this and more. Well, if you buy the popcorn, and the humongo drink, and if you sit near your daughter, if you have a daughter, and if you think it's funny, and endearing and sad, and humorous, and if you like Steve Martin, and that dude from American Pie, you know the dad who catches his son spanking into an apple pie, and if you liked the first one, which really isn't the original because the first one was an original and the movie-first one was a remake of the original, which I think was black and white, and didn't really have the same storyline as the first movie one... well, then, maybe, just maybe you'll like this movie too.

I did. Very much.

Wow, my first movie review. Maybe I should do this for a living? I gave you some good clues, but didn't give the movie away, I probably piqued your interest, maybe made you think you'd want to see this movie, or at the very least, go see some movie so you can get some of that popcorn with a little bit o' butter, and one of those big drinks, and you may choose to get some of those Reese's Pieces, or Junior Mints or Snowcaps (I would definitely vascilate between the Junior Mints or Snowcaps, but didn't tonight because of previous Fat Girl posts), and okay, I'm just going to shut up now and you can decide for yourself if you feel like going to see a movie.

But it was really, really good, and the tears were really streaming down my face. If you go see it, and you don't cry, well, then, we can just assume I was all teary-eyed for hormonal reasons, which it is that time, which makes me rethink things and wonder WHY THE HELL DIDN'T I JUST GET SOME DAMNED SNOWCAPS!?!?

Fat Girl Part Deux

Fat Girl got her ass
on the treadmill
City of Blinding Lights
a little New Order
some Shell-Shock
Babylon and Dave Matthews
Fleetwood Mac and Amazing
got her sweaty.

The cookies are
in the freezer...

For the time being.

The scale, a scare
to bare body
affecting soul
and all
that is lost
if it is gained.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Fat Girl

I see the Fat Girl
coming slowly
appearing in the hips
and thighs,
anxious for seven-layer bars
and butterscotch
Christmas cookies.

While she is
pleasant enough,
(some would agrue,
"She's jolly!")
She's not the person
I want to be around,
to spend time with,
to share my cookies with.

I'd rather sit
with the girl
who worked so hard,
to shed
the outer layer,
of comfort,
of hidden consequences
and appearance.

The one who thought
about everything,
took responsibilities
and willpower, and
made them hers.

She's still there.
I can see her if
I look hard enough.
She is the happy one;
not the other.

I don't want to lose her,
after I've fought
so hard
to find her.

Where To Get It...

For those of you who have asked where to get the Fill 'Er Up Liquor Pump, if you do a search for Fill 'Er Up Liquor Pump, you'll find many locations including Bed, Bath & Beyond, where I got it, and Linens & Things. It was under $30 at both of these places. I saw it for $79 somewhere online--don't pay that much--that is like 5 bottles of booze right there!

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Pre-Christmas Gorge

In keeping with the spirit of eating everything in sight during the holiday season, I came away a huge winner this weekend, and in no particular order, I give you, drumroll please...
Things I ate today:
chocolate-chip pancakes
butter (for the pancakes)
BTW, I place a piece of bacon in the fold of the buttered chocolate-chip pancake and then eat it like a taco.
broccoli casserole
steak leftovers
muddy buddies (which are chocolate-peanut-butter coated chex mix with powered sugar)
mint magic cookies (which are chocolate cookies with a mint Hershey kiss hidden inside--and yes, I did make them, and I can post the recipe if you want).
diet coke
ice water
potato chips
macaroni and cheese
about 8 chicken nuggets with BBQ sauce
pumpkin cheesecake bread
1/2 bbq chicken sandwich

I think that's about it, but I can't be sure.

Things I haven't done today:

Things I wanted to do today but didn't:
Go for a run
Wash my face
(you know what)

Things I want to do after I'm off the computer:
(you know what again)

Things I will think about doing after I get off the computer:
How gross I am today
Getting my book published someday
Not eating
(same thing as above)

Things I did do today:
Sleep In
Stay in my PJs all day
Bake cookies
Make pancakes
Clean the kitchen about a hundred times
Feed a bunch of people about a hundred times
Feel fat

Here are some pictures I'd like to share to show you I've been in a festive mood lately and am no longer grappled in depression. I give you the view from our upstairs, looking down at our tree (which, I love to tell everyone I got for $25 the day after Christmas at Target one year, and also, if you'll note, the color theme happens to be of a patriotic nature -- all we had was red, white and blue strands!

And here is the snowman we made. He's really big, but now kinda melty:

And then, lastly, if you're still searching for THE perfect gift for those loved ones who are Professional Alcohol Consumers (aka PACs), you simply cannot go wrong with this gift. And I'll tell you, no one ever, will ever, ever be able to top this gift that I gave to my parents. Not only is it a conversation piece, a wonderful accoutrement to the kitchen decor, it is also extremely functional and fun! Merry Christmas Mom and Dad!

Saturday, December 17, 2005

2006 Yet?

I am so ready for it to be January 2, 2006 so I can start my yearly resolutions and give up on them by January 10!

I am eating too much, writing too little. It's bumming me out. But at least my parents are in town teaching the kids the joys of playing Black Jack. Ajer's has taken to saying, "I'm ready for BJ!"

I suggested it might not be appropriate to use an abbreviation.

I'll post more when I have something interesting to say. Hope everyone is being merry and all that good holiday jazz!

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Tukey Talk and Diva Devotions

Diva, the other night, when I came downstairs dressed for a formal holiday party:

"You don't look like my mom!"

Okay, so maybe that comment thrilled me a little bit, until the next night when I was tucking her in, she looked closely at my face and said, "You are getting a mustache."

Then Tukey, the other day: "Look mom, I am helping you clean. See, I use my spit and then wipe it off!"

And today, as we were 'gearing up' to go outside to build two awesome snowmen, which I will post pictures sooner or later--as I was getting on Tukey's snowpants, I hiked them up a bit too high for his liking and he said, "You almost gave my wiener a wedgie!"

What the?

"Sex Is Quick And We Love It!"

Guess who has recently been quoted saying that?



In the January issue of Glamour, page 66: 11 Things That Really Do Change After Marriage.

The question is, do I love it because it's good, or because it's over quickly? Hee, hee. Check it out while you're waiting in line at the grocery store.

Deck The Halls With Cheerful Spirit!

Okay! I'm done with the patheticness attitude and am now a cheery little Christmas elf!

I've just had my Christmas cards done, which, I must say, came out really good because I MADE THEM MYSELF, and instead of going somewhere to have cards made for a buck a piece, the average cost of each of mine is about 30 cents! I am thinking about starting up a Christmas card making business. Any takers for 2006?

So, today, I have eaten about six Christmas cookies, some reduced fat cinnamon cake from Starbucks, a grandenonfatpeppermintmochahalfdecafwithalittlewhip (did you notice I've made a slight change from the usual?)... and now I'm going to top it all off with a diet pepsi.

I am happy today! See what a little sugar in the bloodstream can do for you. Off to start my cards and then I've got to begin wrapping presents. Hope everyone out there is getting into the spirit. It took me damn long enough.

Cheers, and thanks for all the nice comments always when I'm crabby. You guys are better than a therapist! xo

Monday, December 12, 2005

Two Words


Okay, that was six words but already I feel better. I just am so not into the commercialism of this holiday it is driving me insane, crazy, nutso.

What is there to look forward to in lugging crap up from the basement, putting up a tree that is a hodge-podge looking thing that I put so many damn strands of lights on it looks like I used green duct tape all over the branches, plus it's fake anyway. It's pathetic.

Then there's thinking about the presents I've yet to get, the presents I've yet to figure out who I need to buy for, the presents I need to wrap, the presents I need to mail, the presents I need to return already because they're not the right items.

I'm sorry, but I am just so not into this. I could be spending my time doing other, more productive things, and don't anyone suggest a soup kitchen or I will scream!

I am doing too much eating of crap -- gorging myself on stupid cookies that aren't even homemade, and then feeling totally gross after eating them. I am not doing any of the writing I want to be doing. I am not... ARGHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I just feel like screaming. I just wish there was some way to get more out of this. The craziness of the gift-giving, crap everywhere, then you have to clean it all up. And then you have to get those damn little twisty-things off the freaking Barbie dolls and trucks and Rescue Heroes that make your fingers hurt so badly because some little evil person invented those things to make moms and dads angry.

I just want it to be all over. Does this make me a horrible person? Don't answer if you're going to say yes.


Saturday, December 10, 2005

Brilliant Quote. Brilliant I Tell Ya!

"... okay, I just need to take care of myself right now," ... "I need to be able to go to yoga and work out and just read scripts and go on auditions, because that's what makes me happy...Like, papers don't really make me happy."

Name That Star. And it's not Manic Mom.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

A Post About Nothing

No idea where this one is going folks, so either bare with the rant or stop reading now. It's not going to be of anything of importance, just whatever's on my mind. First off, I had to laugh at my cute mom today because she cunningly told me, "Ha, I found where your blog is!"

And I was like, "Duh, I sent you the link."

She was cute though because she told me she and dad get the AARP magazine and there was an article in it about blogging. She said, "Older people blog too! It's not just for writers!" How cute is that? I also suggested to her that if she wanted to, she could go to the NEXT BLOG and find a bunch of blogs to read.

See, I told you this was going to be about nothing, but I am clearing my head right now. So there.

It is snowing like a banshee out there, and I shoveled the driveway THREE TIMES today, count 'em... one... two... three. I love to shovel actually. It's a different kind of exercise and it was fun out there today. The snow (which 99 percent of the time, I hate) is falling really pretty today, and the kids were having a blast out there, and I already lost my train of thought here.

I seriously might go get a Bailey's on ice and come back and then maybe I'll know what the freak I'm talking about...

Snow. Oh yeah, it was so pretty, I even took some pictures that will live and die either in my digital camera or on my computer because I haven't gotten any pics developed from there in like forever.

Still not talking about anything I thought I would be talking about but this is kind of like exercise for my fingers and my brain and I have missed writing a lot lately, and I think that's maybe why I wrote the previous post. I feel like I am spending so much time clicking on blogs and reading them and going to my Yahoo chick lit group and commenting a lot and not doing as much BZ work as I should be, which is a paying gig and I can control how much money I make that way, and here I am not doing the things I truly desire.

I'm annoyed with my whole book I wrote because it's not going anywhere, but I am going to be persistent and keep trying to get it out there. And I'm annoyed I'm not making myself sit in front of this computer and write a measley five pages a night because I know if I do that each and every night, I will get excited about whatever it is that I'm writing and I will write more than just five pages a night. Man, you should see how very fast I am typing right now. It's almost as if my brain is talking too fast and my hands can't keep up... whew... phone's ringing... please hold...

Okay, that was Hubby. He is on his way home. Had a late-night function in the city. And here's another thing I was thinking about. Today and last night, he had stuff going on at the Sears Tower. On like the 99th Floor. It kind of freaked me out because why wouldn't anyone target Chicago next? Then I was thinking, and this sounds very terrible to say, but I would like to tell him not to try to be a hero if anything were to ever happen and to just get the hell out of that place if it got smashed. I always think weird stuff like that. Like I never delete his phone messages just in case it's the last one he leaves me. Or stuff like that. I know it's kooky, but whatever.

What else was I going to talk about. I told you not to click on because this was just going to be a rant about nothing. And I'm right, right? So, yesterday's post. I was just annoyed and having a crappy day and tired of just coming in here, checking emails, going through blogs... and I decided to turn the damn thing off. It is just annoying me and somedays if I don't turn it on, the temptation is not there to come in here and do stuff that is non-productive but enjoyable. I think I need to limit my blog-read/surf 'net time. I need to spend some more time doing the work I get paid to do, and I need to spend some more time writing the fiction I am dying to write.

Here's another way my head works. It's like I'll be doing something, like shoveling the snow for instance, and it was very peaceful out there cuz it's late and the kids were all in bed and the snow is falling all crisp and clear outside and the shwoosh shwoosh rhythm of the shovel and the way I move the snow is almost like a dance. I know that sounds totally weird but it's like put one foot forward, scoop the snow, move the snow, put the foot back. I have a system for it and it calms me, kind of like when I'm coloring. So, I'm doing the shwoosh of the shovel, and taking in the quiet of the night and watching the snow fall and looking at the pretty lights out and my mind is telling me I wish I could write about this experience I'm having right now. It's probably how photographers think. Like they probably always wish they have their camera with them to document the moment. But then I'm wondering if my mind is always thinking about writing what I'm experiencing, am I missing the point, am I being taken out of the moment and why can't I just enjoy an experience without thinking I need to write it down. Why isn't my memory enough.

Okay, I'm still not done. I'm not going to be done until my brain turns off and it will happen eventually. This is a free-writing thingamagig and we used to do this in my writing class and I tell ya, if I want, I could probably keep going and going and talking about anything right now .... oops, I just stopped thinking for a moment.

Oh, Christa just signed on for IM. I bet she might send a note to say hi and if she does I will have to tell her I'm in the middle of a free-form blog entry that is totally the most boring thing I've ever written but it might also be the most soul-baring because right now I'm just writing whatever is popping into my head. Oh, and there was another thing I thought I wanted to talk about but now I just forgot it so maybe it's okay that I can't remember it. And no, in case anyone is wondering, I didn't get that Bailey's when I got up to get the phone and I am currently drug-free and sober.

Hmmm. My contact is sticking to my eyeball. Did you know I wore contacts? Oh, I remember what I was going to say. Confessional Tuesday is now a dead topic since two Tuesdays have passed and no one had missed it. I just found on someone else's blog a Thursday 13 and I thought I could maybe do that one but you know what? I think I've probably told you more than 13 things in this entry here alone.

I got a massage today. I totally treated myself. I was in a funky mood yesterday night, hence the post and I decided to boycot the computer (and we can all see what good that did me now, can't we?) Anyway, Diva (I think it's mean when I call her BitchDoll, but really it is a term of endearment) and Ajers got to school, then I took Tukey to his 9 -1 p.m. program today. I went and got a massage with some grapefruit aromatherapy. It was pretty good. The massage. Except I was a little cold and I finally got the nerve to tell her the bed thing was cold and she realized it wasn't heating. I think I should have gotten a discount or something for being cold. But prior to the massage, I told her I was going to try not to talk because usually when I get a massage (and please, it is only once or twice a year), I end up talking to the masseuse during the whole thing, and come on, how freaking stupid is that? To talk to a stranger when you're trying to relax. (Okay, some might argue that it's pretty stupid to pay a stranger to rub aromatherapy oils all over your naked body, but that's besides the point right now.) So, I got my massage and was totally completely relaxed and I thought I could get home and wrap some presents before it was time to get Tukey, but then I thought, screw it. I came home, went up to our room, set the alarm clock for 12:30 p.m., got all snuggly under the covers, tucking my knees up and curling up tight into a ball, and I also throw the covers over my head. I am really good about sleeping under stuff and still being able to not suffocate (Just ask my college roommates who witnessed all too many times THE DEPRESSION SLEEP in which I would bury myself into the covers, pull a pillow over my head and drown myself in the comfort of the blankets. Boy, those were fun times.) But this 'nappy-napperson' was great today. I mean, who the hell takes a nap from 11 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. aside from maybe a one-year old? Then, I totally zonked out and slept like a freaking rock under a rock. The alarm went off and I was eased out of my slumber by some lovely Christmas tunes that woke me up. Got up, got Tukey, then, to further enhance the "I'm-going-to-treat-myself-nicely-today" day, we then went to get a grandenonfatsugarfreevanillalatteextrahot and a sugar cookie filled with M&Ms.

Okay. I'm done now. Thanks for listening. Everything is much better now.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005


I'm turning this thing off. I don't know what I'm expecting to get out of this but all I'm getting is a big, fat headache and a bunch of lost time.


Super Mom and Manic Mom Lunch Together!

Manic Mom is lunching with Super Mom today. I'm really nervous. I hope I don't spill red sauce on my top, and if I do, I hope Super Mom doesn't whip out her Swiffer right then and there to clean the mess up. I will be mortified!

If you have a mom, are a mom, know a mom, and are in need of a great gift for those Moms in your life, go out and get Confessions of Super Mom for her. And no, I have not be monetarily endorsed to say such a thing. You know Manic Mom - she just tells it like it is, and this is a really fun read! Especially the part about the kid puking and Super Mom is reprimanding him, yet trying to comfort him at the same time.

Of course, if it were Manic Mom, she'd probably sit down right next to the kid puking and tell him, "Honey, been there, done that; I feel your pain." Then grab the bottle and do a shot, but of course, "Confessions of Manic Mom" has yet to be contracted by an agent as of yet. Or written, so that might just have to wait.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005


DivaBitchDoll stayed home from school yesterday. Kind of a "I'm-a-little-bit-sick-but-mostly-in-need-of-a-mental-health-day" if you ask me. Anyway, I was rushing around the house in the afternoon doing whatever it is I do all day, (bon-bons and soap operas, house calls from the pool boy) and then I was looking for my Target receipt because I have a bunch of stupid lights that do not work that need to be returned (plus Daddy Scrooge hates to do lights, so the lights that were working would not be displayed anywhere on our house anytime soon).

This Target receipt was in excess of $600 (Santa Clause, you know), so I was getting so pissed that I couldn't find it, and was huffing and mumbling all around the house searching frantically through my purse, cursing the receipt-stealing-fairy (because we all know there's really one out there!), and I decide I need to calm down so I grab my *happy pills* and pop one.

Sidenote: Mom, before you start thinking I'm a drug addict, I take like one of these every three weeks or so.

Anyway, DivaBitchDoll sees me in this flurry of anxiousness, sees me popping a pill and asks:

"Is that a headache pill or a frustrated pill?"

How are they so freaking smart?

Monday, December 05, 2005

What Would You Do?

Let's say you were at the grocery store and all of a sudden, you look down by the money machine and you spot a ten dollar bill. A quick shoulder-to-shoulder glance indicates to you that no one else is around, no one else has spotted it, no one is searching for missing money.

Do you pick it up and pocket it?

Do you take it over to the in-store bank and ask if anyone has lost money, even though you know the guy will say, "I'll keep it here in case someone comes looking for it" and then he keeps it anyway?

Do you stand there with money in hand and wait for someone to come claim it?

Do you pocket it but then feel guilty as if you have stolen money?

Do you go straight to Starbucks for a grandenonfatsugarfreevanillalatte and a hot cocoa and cookie for your kid who stayed home from school because she 'kind of' felt sick this a.m.?

Sunday, December 04, 2005

A Great Bed

You know, I have to say it was such a great feeling waking up in a hotel room after an evening out with my husband and not finding myself on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, but rather in the luxurious bed with fluffy pillows, clean-smelling sheets and a duvet cover that just rocked.

Ah. It is such a great feeling to not have a hangover, to have the whole day spread out in front of you, to know you have the option of doing whatever you want, that you're not forced to lie in bed all day long and wish for death.

You know what I wish? I wish people could just go up to people and say exactly what they want to say and not feel funny about it. I remember this one time in college (okay, everybody think of the band-camp girl in American Pie -- Once, at college...) we were tailgating before a football game and I saw THE MOST GORGEOUS GUY in the entire world, and I had just a good enough buzz from probably some really cheap and crappy beer, that I just went right on up to the guy and told him what I thought of his looks. I went right up there and said, "You are the most beautiful guy I have ever seen in my entire life."

Boy, did that piss off his girlfriend who was standing right next to him! Ha, kidding, there was no girlfriend right next to him, I just thought that would be funny to say.

Anyway, I guess the reason you can't just go up to someone and say your true thoughts about the person is because they look at you kind of strange and think you're pretty weird, which is what that guy did, and probably because I was weird.

But, at this function over the weekend (and isn't it interesting how I now refer to things as a 'function' rather than what it really was because my mom was worried about what I told you all, so I'm trying to be incognito so you don't know I was really attending an event where there was a chick in a white dress and lots of free booze.)


So, there was this really hot guy there. That's all I wanted to tell you. I just thought it would be neat if we lived in a world where you could tell someone who was hot that he was hot. I'm not sure it would boost their morale coming from a stay-at-home married mom of three who is gaining weight by the pounds daily, but wouldn't it make a person feel nice if they received random comments such as that? I think so.

Here's something else I wish, while I'm on this "I Wish" rant. I wish the hypothetical 'you' were able to know what a person thought of you upon meeting you. Like, I would like to know someone's immediate reaction to meeting someone -- did they think you were nice, did they think you had a skin problem, bad hair, a horrible figure, nice boobs, whatever. But of course, sometimes this could possibly ruin a person's whole life to know these things, so maybe that's not a good idea.

But I also think it would be cool for there to be a website where a person could submit a picture of themselves, or maybe of just their figure, and random readers could log on, and search the database and critique the person. Like, for instance, you could comment on a person's figure and say, 'that person has a nice butt, but needs to work on her upper arms.' Or 'she should really be smiling more.' or 'that person has the ideal figure.' I don't know, this is just something I think about sometimes. Like I'll walk down the street and see a beautifully put-together stylish woman and wonder, what does she think when she sees me walking by? Is she judging me, wondering about my life as I wonder about her? Does she see me with my three kids and wish she had three kids? Does she see me with three kids and think I must be a nutcase and why the hell can't I do something with my hair, put some makeup on and wear some shoes that are at least a bit stylish?

That's the kind of stuff I think about. What do you think about?

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Upon Waking

I dreamed about him last night. I didn't want to, I never want to. I don't think about him during the day so why does he creep back into my most solitude moments of sleep, disrupting me, making me think of the past, causing me to wake feeling crappy?

Friday, December 02, 2005

Liquid Kid Chat

Me: Tukey, do you want something to drink? I can get you water.

Tukey: Milk.

Me: No, you can't have milk in the family room.

Tukey: But Mom! Milk is more healthier!
And later this evening, I poured myself a glass of wine, and believe it folks, I wasn't really into drinking it so it has sat here on my bookshelf for the last hour. Ajers came in and we had this conversation:

Ajers: How old do I have to be before I can drink the wine at church?

Me: I dunno.

Ajers: Well, I've tried red wine, but I never tried white.

Me: Hmmm. (not really paying attention to him, if you can gather by my dialogue here)

Ajers: Can I have a sip?

Me: Sure. When you're done, you can put it in the kitchen for me.

Ajers, in absolute shock: I have to drink ALL of this?

Thursday, December 01, 2005

I'm Riding A Roller Coaster, Dudes.

One minute I'm up, the next, knock me the hell down.

That's really all I feel like saying, but I guess I should elaborate.

Two rejections today. One, a gracious typical form letter.

The other from an agent who I thought I would have a chance with. We had SO MUCH IN COMMON. She has three kids; I have three kids. She is an agent; I am looking for an agent. She lives in the United States; I live in the United States. Her first name begins with a vowel. My first name begins with a vowel.

I mean, come on, how much more could the planets be alligned?

Except, she didn't fall in love with my main character. She thought the "tone was too cute at times" and there wasn't "enough warmth and empathy." She did say she thinks I have a great idea for a novel and the "world is probably ready for a book about a woman who is having a baby just because she is pregnant, and not because she is necessarily armed and ready and trying." She thought my idea was "refreshing."


I am thisclose to quitting my 'job' as a wanna-be-novelist.

Okay, maybe t h i s c l o s e.

Because, truly, I do want it badly enough, and isn't that (and a novel worth a shit) really all that it's about?

In other roller coaster news, An Up: I kicked some major ass in the shopping department today. And my philosophy when it comes to shopping for Christmas is one gift for so-and-so, one gift for me. One gift for so-and-so, another gift for me. So far, my Christmas is going to be great. I've got a new purse, three new tops from Old Navy, four scented candles from Hallmark (half-price) and a 16-month calendar that will all be waiting for me under the tree. Heh heh. I also bought a new pair of shoes (well, three actually, but I'm really only going to keep one pair), but these don't count as a Christmas present because they're for a wedding I must attend this weekend, where I will know no one 'cept a few fellow 'acquaintances' of Hubby's, and we all know what happens when I go to functions where I know no one. Be prepared for a fun puking-in-the-new-shoes or in-the-car, or on-a-hotel-wall entry early next week... Ha.

I also banged out most of the kid shopping, and Target should be thanking me very much. Ajers is on to the whole Santa thing and I'm getting sick of lying to him though. He knows. He's in second grade. He knows about the tooth fairy cuz I couldn't keep lying to him about that so I just told him. I could sooo never have an affair. I couldn't lie about it!

So, shopping went well, rejections sucked. I didn't eat too much today, except for half a bag of those Tootsie roll VANILLA Midgees, which are INCREDIBLE and I'm always sorting through kids' birthday goodie bags or Halloween bags looking for those blue and white wrapped Tootsie rolls, and then, lo and behold, I find a bag of them at Target. I ate about half the bag while I shopped, and then called my friend for shoe advice, which is a whole 'nother story:

Nylons, open-toed shoes for the holidays, no nylons? Freeze your calves off, get pedicures? Wear nylons? Cripes. That was a pain in the arse to figure out, and after searching for the shoes, which I've found and I think are perfect, and if I could find them online, I could post a link here, then I had to figure out the whole wear nylons/don't wear nylons, get a pedicure, skip a pedicure. Ladies, for holiday cold functions, what do you recommend? What's in style? What do you do? Probably doesn't really matter much 'cuz by 10 p.m. I'll probably be shoeless and puking into a plant.

Think Spongebob when you read this next line, in that funky voice when they're trying to show time passing:

Twenty. Minutes. Later...

(How many of you just read that out loud?)

I just realized why I'm all jazzed up. Before I took Tukey to Tot Soccer, I stopped at our neighborhood Starbucks because I 1). Wanted to and 2). remembered they were 'hosting' a neighborhood holiday open house and I figured there might be a chance for a free grandenonfatsugarfreevanillalattenowhip. So, I lock all three kids in the car (okay, folks, let me have it, but really, they are old enough now not to do anything damaging other than kill each other in the four minutes I'm in Starbucks), and when I order my grandenonfatsugarfreevanillalattenowhip, and hot chocolates for the kiddies, I am told "It's taken care of." And I, of course, being Manic Mom, play dumb and say, "Oh, yeah, you're having that little open house right now aren't you?" Clever, aren't I?

And I seriously considered going back on the way home to get another freebie, but had I had anymore caffeine I might be tempted to tell you all about the 'encounter' Hubby and I had this a.m. And we all know that's taboo because Mom wasn't too happy with the amount of info I shared on this blog, hence the new and improved 'anonyminity' here, plus the fact that I gave Mom the URL to the new blog.

Finally (and I'm sure you're all breathing a huge, freaking sigh of relief and your eyes are probably still bleeding because I continue to go on and on with this rant), I forgot about another "Down" on this roller coaster today.

BitchDoll will no longer accept public kisses from me.

And that, my friends, is an extremely low point in a mother's life.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Maybe I Should Do It Daily

Drink a bottle of wine, that is. Come on guys--get the head outta the gutter!

Seriously though, after last night's impromptu wine party, when I came home I told Hubby where I had been, and that I had drunk a bottle of wine, and he asked, "Weren't we supposed to be slowing it down?"

I said, "Not we. You." He drank far more than I during our Thanksgiving 'visit' and as much fun as I had with my friends and family during our 'trip out east', I cannot call it a vacation. To me, a vacation must include a beach, tropical drinks, and the sun. Oh, and no kids.

So, digressing here, but back to the point I was trying to make. It was good that I drank a bottle of wine. I came home, put two-thirds of the kids to bed, while Hubby took the last third to basketball practice. I went to bed, lights out, no reading, nothing, at eight p.m. And slept. Slept well.

This a.m., after getting BitchDoll and Ajers out the door to the bus, with not so much trauma from BD today, I decided to begin a new morning routine that will involve three things:

1. Treadmill.
2. Load of laundry.
3. Shower.

This is my pre-resolution resolution. I was so freaking productive today! I got TWO LOADS of laundry done and put away, I wrote half an essay that I am working on for a regional parenting magazine.

Sidenote: How cool is it that I am being contacted and ASKED to write about S-E-X as a married mother, AND getting paid for it!--I'm working on it Kara, but first, I have to go have sex so I can remember what it's like -- Hahahahah.

It is so terribly amusing to think of things or to write something or to say something incredibly stupid and funny that you break into laughter all by yourself. Isn't that the greatest feeling in the world. To be able to laugh at one's own stupidness? I'm really good at that!

So, more digression here. I got my little list done this a.m., then dropped Tukey off to school, after calling Hubby to ask him, "Where the eff did you put the car keys because I can't find them and I have to get Tukey to school!" (Keys are still MIA, BTW.)

Then, I get into...

Shopping Mode.

Which means, as I learned from yesterday, that I need to start the excursion by popping a Xanax to get me into the correct mental frame of mind. And, although I never got around to sharing my shopping highlights with you yesterday, it wasn't so bad. Tukey was behaved, I got good parking, people were friendly...

I just freeze up and can't do it.

It's like stage fright, but I have shop fright. It's the same thing in the grocery store. I will look at all the choices and my head will start to spin, internally of course, not for real like Regan in Exorcist, and then I will start getting numb lips (this is a genetic thing because this happens to my mom too). So, then I'm asking Tukey, who is FOUR, what he thinks I should get my nephews for Christmas... Would they like the Elmo Giggle Ball or the Elmo Mr. Potato Head guy and then I'm standing there with the two stupid toys in my hands, trying to manuever the stroller in the one-foot-wide aisle in the freaking toy store, and get me started on why the hell they make the aisles in the GD toy stores so freaking small because the people who shop in there are MOMS with freaking strollers!!

See, I shoulda taken a Xanax before starting this post.

I feel better though; thanks for listening.

I am going to try to prepare a meal for my family now, and then I am going to yoga tonight for the first time in about three months, and I'm going to "OHM" my way into sanity.

Until I have to do it again tomorrow -- I have four hours sans kids in which I can attempt the drastic shopping thing again. I think I should just open up that bottle of wine right now.


Post Script: I found the keys. They were in the jacket I wore to the neighbor's last night where I drank the whole bottle of wine. Apparently, Hubby had not taken the main set with him to basketball practice. How the hell am I gonna tell him it was my fault after I griped at him about the keys?

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Is It Wrong?

Okay, I started a previous post titled, "Oh Fuck" which is how I began my morning when I got on the scale. But now I am buzzed on a Tuesday night and it's 7:15 p.m. and believe it or not, Manic Mom DOES NOT drink during the week, and you would not blieve how many times I had to go back and fix typos because of the buzz I have, see I left a couple for you so you can see how I am not v ery coherent.

So there. Havppy fucking holidays. Let the joy begin. shopponjg sucks.

Ha. Ha.

Tis the fucking season.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Fun For Mommy Bloggers

Check out this cool new site for Bloggin' Moms.

Is Everyone's 'Hood Like This?

As we were returning from our little 'visit' over the Thanksgiving holiday, we pulled into our subdivision and were struck with visions of sugar plum fairies and reindeer and all that other crap!

I swear to God, more than half the houses are ALREADY DECORATED! The freaking pressure is on! I think the neighbors actually have a race to see who can get their houses lit up before everyone else, and I also think all the neighbors on my street said, "Okay, Manic and her family are gone. Let's really screw with them and have all our decorations, lights, white sleighs and glowing reindeers, tinseled trees and icicle rooftops all done before they get back."

And some were telling me they have like four or five or even six trees to put up or have already put them up. Trees for the kids in each of their rooms! Trees for the bathrooms! A tree for the basement! The foyer! Heck, I even think one neighbor has a tree in their hallway closet just so those putting away their coats can get festive!

And what am I doing? Well, I'm fretting that I'm not going to get everything done in time! I am trying to dig out of the laundry mess, and purge old toys and old school papers, and cluttered cabinets and closets just to make sure there is space for all the new crap that will be making its way into our home in the next four weeks. It's a never-ending process. Get stuff, stick it in a closet for a year, open closet, realize that has been unused in closet for a year and know that more stuff is on its way, throw out stuff, wait for new stuff to get here so the whole thing can start all over again.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not a scroogy person at all. It's just so commercialized and hyped and the leftovers from Thanksgiving aren't even all gone yet.

But maybe, just maybe, all these neighbors are getting me into the spirit of the season and I'm freaking out so I can be right along side them, ringing jingly bells, baking cookies, wrapping gifts I hope everyone will like (of course, I think I have to buy them first!), drinking festive concoctions that warm the insides, singing Christmas carols around the table (which Diva aka BitchDoll suggested we do tonight), finding the perfect family card to send to friends and family, and then, after it's all said and done, recovering from the enormity of it all and realizing it's all just really about a teeny little baby left in a manger while some smart dudes on camels followed some bright shining star to honor the little guy they would be calling King.

(What the hell is Frankencense anyway, and why was it such a hot commodity back then, when it can be purchased for seven bucks a quarter pound?)

Tune in later this week when I continue my homage to this glorious overly-commercialized, yet somewhat meaningful and spectacular holiday event that is beginning to cloud my already-post-Thanksgiving-pre-holiday-I'm-scared-to-go-shopping brain!


Sunday, November 27, 2005



There is no place like home.

We are back, some are cranky, some have coughs reminiscent of wet hacking doggy crouppy sounds and they might possibly be coughing up lungs, but we are home, with little incidents other than the following:

Two barfers in the car.

A back that spasmed and then went out for a day.

Musical beds every night.

Two chic-fila sandwiches and a super size waffle fry in one sitting.

A urinator in the van, who had to pee in his sister's special cup because there was nothing else available while we were driving 80+ MPH.

More highlights later, after I attack the mound of laundry, go to the grocery store, and do a bunch of other "home-from-vacation-get-back-into-real-life-mode" stuff.

BTW, One, Two, Three, Five, Six, Seven and Eight are accurate.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Confessional Tuesday

Guess which (if any?) of the following are True Confessions:

1. I have participated in a Spring Break Wet T-Shirt Contest.

2. I have participated in a Hot Legs Contest.

3. I have played strip poker.

4. I have been initiated into the High Mile Club.

5. I have hosted a sex toy party.

6. I have subscribed to Playboy.

7. I have been to strip clubs and have 'tucked' money.

8. I have kissed a female.

9. I have had (and completed the act) a phone sex conversation.

10. I have lied about all of the above.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

A Teeny Break

Posting is going to be sporadic at best, nil at worst for the next couple weeks as I will be vacationing on a deserted island with People's Sexiest Man Alive, Matthew McCaughnoy... oh, who the hell cares how to spell his name, anyway?

So, even if the island is equipped with internet access, and all the luxuries, who the hell would want to waste her time when she could be doing whatever she wanted to with the Sexiest Man Alive.

Seriously though, I'm not really going to a deserted island, but you probably already knew that, I was just trying my hand at humor.

How's this for humor... Tukey did the vomit thing, and I'm just sure when it's BitchDoll's turn it's going to be far, far worse than when my darling little boys yakked nicely and quickly, with not too much griping and whining, into the proper receptacles. I can just see BitchDoll (aka Diva) now. She will refuse to let me rubberband her hair and she won't dare let me try to put it behind her ears, she will not want to throw up in the toilet and demand that I get out a crystal bowl, and that I hold the bowl while also placing a cool cloth onto her head while said head is spinning around in circles like the Exorcist chick. I can just see it now.

So, you see why I will be away from the computer for a while. I just like to plan accordingly.

And actually, I really wish I could share with you the truth on where I am going, but my mom is sure that if I tell you, then this is the opportune time for the stalkers and robbers and thieves to come take all my worldly possessions, leaving me with nothing. But, no worries, because I have personally hired five very large scary men to guard my house in the event that any of you terrible people who choose to remain anonymous will attempt to thwart me of all my worldly goods.

On that note, I seriously am taking some time off, going to see what it's like to not be such a slave to the computer, and spend some well-deserved time with my family and friends.

I'm wishing you all some goodness to come your way, and please remember to be thankful for the good that is already in your life, even if you're like me, and the good is that BitchDoll won't get the vomitbug!

See ya soon, and in the meantime, check out those great blogs on my sidebar! Take good care of yourselves! Cheers!

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Today I...

Woke up to a vomiting, heaving eight-year-old.

Sent Diva off to school (I think I might start calling her BitchDoll, that has a nice ring to it, don't ya think?)

Helped vomiting, heaving child through some more bouts of vomit (sorry for all the excrement talk, from both ends lately, but this is my life!)

Ate like a huge pig, handfuls and handfuls of teddy grahams and I don't even like them, and the rest of the mac 'n' cheese, and buttered noodles with parmesan, and a Healthy Choice pizza, and ... what else, I know there is more!

Didn't exercise for second day in a row, and I'm feeling the effects of it and feeling like a big blob, but not enough to drag my ass down to the basement to do the treadmill.

Did receive a rejection from an agent, but no mention of blog being a factor, however, as a sidenote, a blogging reader may purchase some of my written articles as reprints for the parenting magazine she is editor of (shout out to Kara!)

Have not, nor do I intend to take a shower today.

Did clean the drawers in Tukey's room because there has been a bin on the floor in there since August, NO LIE, and I know it had to have been driving Hubby crazy(who I will now call "Sleeping With The Enemy Man" --I think you all know how I've mentioned he can be a *little* anal when it comes to clutter in the house).

Tossed old toys, put some away for Goodwill (including the I LOVE YOU Barney doll that made me a little nostalgic, and the La La Telly Tubbie that made me really happy!), and cleaned out the boys' bedroom closet! They can actually PLAY in their room now as there is carpet space available!

Attempted to clean out BitchDoll's closet, but there were so many damned Barbie and Polly Pockets plastic thingies I wasn't sure what I could toss so I threw everything back into the closet.

Worked on my editing job for three hours, feel a sense of accomplishment there.

Did a load of laundry, folded it, have yet to take it upstairs.

Picked up a shitload of beads the kids spilled all over my office, but hey, they were occupied for about ten minutes so should I complain?

Stopped by some of my favorite bloggers and left some comments.

Emptied dishwasher, loaded dishwasher, ran dishwasher.

Made about 18 different items of food for Ajers to eat once he was done with the hacking.

There's more, but I have to get the kids to bed now as Hubby is working late.

Have a great night!

Confessional Tuesday

I was just reminded that it is Tuesday, so it's Confessional Tuesday. I had something really good to share, but I'm afraid those agents that are searching for me might read about the time I was in high school and I threw up in my mouth and had to swallow it so my parents wouldn't know I was hungover so I guess I can't ...


Monday, November 14, 2005

Too Funny!

Got this email from my mom today, referring to her inability to find the new blog:

So you locked me out totally! Don't feel too good about that!

I called her right away. "Why do you think I locked you out completely?" I asked.

"Because I went to your webpage and it says 'MANIC MOM'S MENTAL MYRIADS IS UNDER CONSTRUCTION'!" She exclaimed.

Apparently Mom had no idea what my URL was in the first place--she would just go to my home web site and click the link to MMMM.

"Mom, this is exactly what you wanted me to do! Now Manic Mom can no longer be connected with [insertrealnamehere, but for those of you who know it, please, no mentions in the comment section]"

But really, and I don't mean this as a negative to my mother, because I love her dearly, but if any idiot wanted to try hard enough, they could find me still.

I just hope there are not too many idiots out there!

In other Mom News, previous to receiving her "You locked me out" email, she called me and said, "I know you never watch the news, so you probably don't know about the teenager in Pennsylvania..."

I stopped her mid-sentence: "You mean the kid who murdered his girlfriend's parents and then the girlfriend and the kid just crashed in Indiana? Those guys?"

I totally stumped her.

"How did you know about that?" Mom asked.

"Mom, you yourself know I am on the computer a million hours a day. The Internet has news on it."

Anyway, she continued, "Well, you know, those two kids, the one who murdered the girl's parents? ...


Blog Virus

It was only a matter of time. Between Ajers having bronchitis, and me spending time over at this blogger, Eulallia, and this adorable
Monkey, I was bound to take ill. They seemed to have passed along their blog germs and now I am tainted.

Or, the flu shot I got on Saturday is doing a number on me and I'm getting those flu-like symptoms that can occur after a shot.

All I wanna do today is cozy on up with a nice blankie (perhaps my Woobie, which always at least makes me smile, no matter how terrible I feel), lie on the couch and snuggle with Tukey until it's school time for him. And drat, then I have a pre-school conference where they will no doubt tell me my child is the best listener, most cooperative, most animated, well-behaved child in preschool. Right? Heh, yeah right.

And something about being sick like this-- I no longer have that daily craving for my grandenonfatsugarfreevanillalattenowhip. When I feel like this, my drink of choice is tangerine lime flavored water, mixed with OJ and cranberry juice. The perfect remedy. A splash of vodka doesn't hurt either.

Ugh, this is actually a perfect day to be sick. A dreary, drippy, Monday morning. And Sesame Street starts in about 10 minutes. Gosh, I do love that show.

And I love Grover, cuz he's blue and furry and so lovable, and also because I loved the book, There's A Monster At The End Of This Book! when I was little.

Some stats on the friendly, furry and lovable monster:

The Cuddly and Determined Hero

With a grin on his face and a bounce in his step, Grover-the self-proclaimed "world's cutest monster"-is always bursting with energy and curiosity. This sometimes gets him into trouble in the real world, but his mommy helps him out as she tells her furry little son to keep trying.

Birthday: October 14

Favorite Song: "Monster in the Mirror"

Best Friend: Kermit (no one else has the patience)

Quote: "Hello every-bod-eeeee!"

Likes: Anything and everything; doing whatever Ernie and Bert can do

Dislikes: Phone booths without doors (supermonsters need their privacy, too!)

Who's your favorite Sesame Street character, and why? Hope you all are well!

Saturday, November 12, 2005

Non-Sexual Affection

The Great Photographer and Elusive Tobias, as I have personally named him, asked an interesting question. He noticed that I would prefer some "non-sexual affection" on my perfect day and asked the following:

"Does that side of things really drop off when you marry? Do you not miss it?"

So, how to answer? And I hope my female married readers will chime in on this topic, stone me to death if I'm wrong, whatever.

But, I don't know if 'that side of things really drops off when you marry' but it definitely becomes second to raising children, especially three right in a row, boom, boom, boom! Of course, when we were trying to conceive these children, it didn't drop off, if you know what I mean, but that's a blog post for another day.

I think, and please remember, I am only one woman, and keep in mind I happen to be Manic Mom so that could come into play here, but when you're in a house all day long with children rubbing up against you begging for juice and cookies and lunch and butts to be wiped and boo-boos to be kissed and buttons to be snapped and toys to be fixed, the last, (and remember, this is just me talking) the very last thing I am in the mood for is S-E-X.

When you have a day of being groped by the children, being groped by the husband while you're trying to make dinner (even if it is boxed Mac 'n' Cheese with the Blues Clues characters), do laundry, pick up the markers and paper the kids left on the floor, fill out school forms, make lunches for the next day... well, being groped in a sexual manner by the husband is just not sexy and does not put a woman (me) in a sexy mood. Others might feel differently.

Sexy for me is for Hubby to tell me he appreciates the fact that I raked the leaves, and that the kitchen looks uncluttered, and that he enjoyed the Shake 'n' Bake pork chops (I've told you all a million times I can't cook worth a shit!). Sexy for me is when he lets me sleep in every weekend and he makes the kids breakfast. Sexy for me is getting a neck massage or when he gives the kids a bath and puts them to bed. These are the non-sexual affectionate things I think I am talking about.

Or, just being kissed without the intent that it's going to lead to sex, just kissing because kissing is a way to connect and it feels nice, and there is a promise of something that might be in the future. Or a sweet hug without an ass grab or grope in the kitchen in front of the kids, because, while I do believe it is extremely important and good for children to see their parents loving one another, hugging and kissing, and telling one another they love each other, it's not so good to have the children see the dad grab the mom's ass or some other part of her anatomy while she's trying to make sure she doesn't burn the water she's boiling for the Blues Clues' Kraft Mac 'n' Cheese.

Now, for instance, take me on a husband-wife-only beach vacation, or even an overnight getaway to a swanky hotel (where I am not puking my lungs out in the bathroom because of overdoing it at a Green Tie Ball), then, I am all over the Non-Non Sexual Affection.

So, do you see what I mean? It's all about timing. For me, timing is everything. And the frame of mind I'm in. And most of the time, when I'm with the kids, or have spent the day with the kids, or am thinking about the kids, or I know the kids could walk in at any second, well, then yes, "that side of things" does take the back burner to what is going on, and that's fine for now, because I know there will be those beach vacations and those overnight getaways in swanky hotels in the future.

So Tobias, I wouldn't say it happens when you're married, but definitely when kids are brought into the world. And I do have to say this. I would sacrifice all the sexual affection in the world if I had to choose between that and having my children, and having the love and affection and joy I get from my kids.

Wow, this was a bit sentimental wasn't it?
Would love to hear what you all feel on this topic!

Tukey Talk

Tukey: Mom, I’m done!

Manic: You pooping?

Tukey: Yes.

Manic: Be right there! (Holds nose, and enters powder room)

Tukey: Mom, I always pray when I poop.

Manic: That's a good idea. What do you pray about?

Tukey: I dunno.

Manic: You ready for a wipe?

Tukey, while grunting: Uhh, I only have one more to do.

I told you it was going to get graphic over here at the new and improved Manic Mom. I warned ya, yes I did.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Yay! You Found Me!

Welcome to the new and improved, say-whatever-I-want-and-hope-the-wrong-people-don't-find-me Blog of Manic Mom!

Many of you already know me, know my name, know where I live, know what I ate for dinner last night. Some know the names of my children, my husband, and the last time I had my period.

But, for those of you who don't, some things are going to have to be kept more under wraps here. I am now a sexier, slimmer version of my old self, now being called either Manic Mom or S.C. Elle. On the flip side, now that I have gone into the Blog World Witness Protection Program, I can be a bit more open with what I have to say here.

And I promise, it's still really me here, just a more private me, in terms of personal stuff about my family and friends. However, now I can really let loose, open up more, get a little bit more daring...

I feel like I just got a boob job or something fantastic like that!

Cheers, and so glad you found me!

True / False Answers

1. My brother nicknamed me Whale-Bone-Whaler when we were younger, deriving it from the ever-popular fish sandwich at Burger King.
TRUE, and I still loathe him for that.

2. I've never had sex in a swimming pool.

3. None of my children weighed over eight pounds.
FALSE. They were 8.11; 9.4; 9.0 in that order.

4. Only three boyfriends ever told me they loved me.
TRUE, but I only think one meant it, so I married him.

5. Two of them were saying it just to get somewhere.

6. I must use two separate knives for the peanut butter and the jelly.
TRUE. Grosses me out when there are crumbs mixed in with the tub of butter, or when I see PB in the jelly jar. Ewww.

7. I'll eat any vegetable as long as it has butter or cheese on it.

8. I once suffered from anorexia.

9. I have worn glasses / contacts since I was 13.
FALSE --got glasses after college, contacts two weeks before our wedding because we had attended someone else's wedding and we were stuck at a table in the back. I thought, "I'm getting married in two weeks and I won't be able to see any of the guests in the back!" (But don't you usually put the lame people in the back anyway?)

10. My teeth are as straight as they were when the permanent ones arrived.

11. I spend way too much money at the cosmetic counter.

12. I have never done chemically-created illegal drugs.

13. The first boy I ever French kissed was named Carter Ganada.
TRUE, but I spelled his last name inocorrectly because I forgot how it was spelled. I was a junior in high school! He had braces, I think, and we were chewing Big Red gum. He also had a girlfriend, so I guess my first real encounter was as the 'other' woman!

14. I still own the shirt I was wearing the night I met Hubby.
TRUE. Got it from the Limited. It's black and orange striped with gold buttons at the collar. Cool back then, not so cool now. Maybe I should post a picture of it.

15. I hate cranberry juice.
FALSE. Hate apple juice.

16. I have thrown up on a plane, ship, car and bus all within a 24-hour period.
TRUE, and this was when I was traveling with my boss. On that excursion, I also threw up in an ice bucket but it was empty. (But there are pictures.)

17. My first job out of college was as an editor for a small newspaper.

18. I have never been on a blind date.

19. I can count on two hands the number of... well, you know.
FALSE. I would need about two-and-a-half hands for this.

20. I used to collect mirrors until I got tired of looking at myself.
TRUE I used to collect mirrors; FALSE that I stopped because I was looking at myself in them all the time.

21. The first time I got my hair highlighted, I was 30.
FALSE. Add five years.

22. I have been arrested one time.
FALSE, but one summer during college, we chickies got pulled over by cops three times in one week. I was only driving on one of those incidents and it just so happened that I had decided to drink ONLY water that night. Good girl that I am.

23. If given the choice, I would spend the whole day at one of the following places:
Barnes & Noble

24. I used to want to be an artist.
TRUE--I liked to paint and draw.

25. I used to want to be a dentist.
TRUE I think I wanted to be the little dentist Elf from The Abomidable Snowman (I know I spelled that wrong--I can't even say it.)

November Archives

Wednesday, November 09, 2005
The Best Rejection To Date Is Here:

You know what? I expect rejection letters. I know they are part of the process of getting an agent, of finding the right match for your work. You have to find someone as passionate about your book as you are and that's really, really hard to do. And I'm okay with that. It's like online dating, or regular dating, or making friends, or blog dating, or mating... whatever. You have to find the right match. It's got to be a "Ying and Yang thang." Or something like that.

But this here is the most absurd rejection in the entire world. I think so anyway. And this is my blog so I can think anything I want to.

So, I send Prominent New York Agent a query -- a short, simple one, with not a lot of info, and asked if she would be interested in reading more.

This is the blurb (in case there are any agents out there looking for my book... hee hee):

Ellen McMillan’s plan for the next forty weeks didn’t involve tip-toeing around her infertile sister, getting black-balled from Thursday night happy hour, and spending a week in Jamaica sober. But because of the Two Hearts pregnancy test, she’s becoming a different woman, complete with a new set of boobs and a blooming uterus. Ellen’s got more than her share of pregnancy woes–her OB makes her insides flutter (and it’s not because the baby’s kicking!), her pregnant boss thinks motherhood and career are not synonymous, and her husband is suddenly MIA, both emotionally and physically. She’s in a constant state of panic, thanks to a premonition from a stranger, a medical test gone awry, and the discovery of a family secret kept far too long. How in the world can Ellen make it through the next four days let alone the next forty weeks?

So, this is the response I get from Prominent New York Agent, which was very timely and honest, to give her credit:

I’m sorry; as a woman who plans to never have children, this just doesn’t resonate with me. But thanks very much for giving me a chance.


She is a literary agent. Does this mean because she never plans on murdering anyone, she is not interested in representing murder mysteries. Since she is not a man, is she not interested in anything a man would write? Does this mean that since she is heterosexual (I'm assuming), any book with gay characters would be disregarded immediately, and thrown into the Slush Pile? Since she is a literary agent, does this mean any book with a main character with a job unrelated to publishing or writing would not resonate with her?

I so just don't get it. And, if she is choosing not to have children, that's fine, that's her own business, but I have never met a parent who has said, "Oh, I wish I didn't have kids." I have met plenty of people who have said, "Oh, I wish I didn't have this job I have."

Prominent New York Agent seems pretty close-minded to me. But, who am I to say what resonates with her doesn't resonate with someone else. It's just a great, big, grandeous mystery to me. And wouldn't it be HILARIOUS if someday my book would become a BEST-SELLER, and I could do interviews and say, "Oh, Prominent New York Agent didn't even want to read my book because it's about a woman who has a baby." And she would be kicking herself because she would have gotten fifteen percent of a Best-Selling book about a mom, and we all know how boring books like that can be.

That would be soooo cool.

posted by S.C.Elle @ 10:18 PM 16 comments

The Joy Of The Sense Of Smell... Or Not.

I smell like how a wet dog smells after chasing a ball into a lagoon, running circles around a skunk and then rolling into a pile of dirt.

I think I should go shower.

posted by S.C.Elle @ 2:12 PM 3 comments

Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Confessional Tuesday

Well, I have spent all day thinking of something really juicy, intriguing, mind-blowing to share on this here, the second-ever Confessional Tuesday ever, and I got nuthin'.

I am a boring person with no secrets.

I'm trying to dig down really deep to come up with some good smut I haven't already shared with you guys. But, I've already told you how my younger brother (then five) caught me and the boyfriend in a compromising situation; I already told you when and where I lost my virginity; I already spill my guts every time I "spill my guts." I share my "fictional" accounted excerpts of stuff; I tell you every time I have a fantastic dream about an ex-boyfriend.

I am an open book who pores her soul out to all who will listen. (Oh, and by the way, that pour / pore thing always gets me in print. I think it should be "pour" as in "spill" but is it really "pore" as in... okay, no, now I am really confused -- I think it's:

She will pour her soul... pore her soul... fuck it... I empty my soul out to all who will listen.

Having said all that, I've decided to host a little True or False on Confessional Tuesday.

Which of the following are TRUE; Which are FALSE?

1. My brother nicknamed me Whale-Bone-Whaler when we were younger, deriving it from the ever-popular fish sandwich at Burger King.

2. I've never had sex in a swimming pool.

3. None of my children weighed over eight pounds.

4. Only three boyfriends ever told me they loved me.

5. Two of them were saying it just to get somewhere.

6. I must use two separate knives for the peanut butter and the jelly.

7. I'll eat any vegetable as long as it has butter or cheese on it.

8. I once suffered from anorexia.

9. I have worn glasses / contacts since I was 13.

10. My teeth are as straight as they were when the permanent ones arrived.

11. I spend way too much money at the cosmetic counter.

12. I have never done chemically-created illegal drugs.

13. The first boy I ever French kissed was named Carter Ganada.

14. I still own the shirt I was wearing the night I met Hubby.

15. I hate cranberry juice.

16. I have thrown up on a plane, ship, car and bus all within a 24-hour period.

17. My first job out of college was as an editor for a small newspaper.

18. I have never been on a blind date.

19. I can count on two hands the number of... well, you know.

20. I used to collect mirrors until I got tired of looking at myself.

21. The first time I got my hair highlighted, I was 30.

22. I have been arrested one time.

23. If given the choice, I would spend the whole day at one of the following places:
Barnes & Noble

24. I used to want to be an artist.

25. I used to want to be a dentist.

See, how boring is this? Eleven of them are false.

posted by S.C.Elle @ 8:44 PM 15 comments

Confessional Tuesday

Seems like just yesterday I told you about the Woobie, and here it is, another Tuesday and I've got to confess something. Problem is, now that my mom is on to me, I have to confess something probably not worth confessing, something that if Mom reads, she can be like, "Oh, good, she's not talking about the topaz thing anymore."

So, what to confess, what to confess?

Anyone want to know anything specific that is Blog-Mom-Sensitive?

posted by S.C.Elle @ 8:16 AM 20 comments

Monday, November 07, 2005
Slowly But Surely...

I am adding LINKS to you Blogger Pals. If you don't see your name to the right, no worries -- this is a work in progress, and I'm trying to get as many of you up as I can. If you hadn't noted that you want to be linked, and want to be linked here, leave me a comment and I'll add you.

On that note, I'm also working on building up my Web site and wonder if you can help out. If you're a regular reader, would you mind leaving a quick, short quote on your thoughts on Manic Mom so I can include on my Web page for the Blog? Send these to the comments section. (You know, something like, "Manic Mom makes me snort coffee out of my nose when I read her." That kind of stuff. None of the usual, "She sucks and she's an alcoholic-pill-popper," although, that might get me more readers!)

Thanks for your help guys! You rock! Also, Dating Dummy tried to help Computer Dummy figure out how to include a link here with my email address but Computer Dummy can't figure out how to do it, so any of you smart-techie-bloggers out there want to give me directions, that would be cool.

posted by S.C.Elle @ 2:47 PM 10 comments


Okay, can anyone tell me, How The Hell Does This Happen?

posted by S.C.Elle @ 9:11 AM 4 comments

Sunday, November 06, 2005
Could It Be Any More Depressing?

Gosh, I just went to the grocery store and I'm thinking, "Man, how depressing." The music they were playing over the intercom was just unbearable. If I were a single person, I would be crying in Aisle Five for sure.

First off, they played Open Arms by Journey. There is a particular ex of mine with whom anything by Journey stirs up crazy emotions. And I had had an incredibly 'interesting' dream last night that further added to these strange feelings. Then, Open Arms ended and Annie Lenox's "No More I Love Yous" comes on. Then, Tears for Fears, "Sowing The Seeds of Love" is on. Geeze, I would hate to be a person going through a break-up, being all depressed, not able to eat, and then finally being brave enough to continue on with my life, go to the grocery store to purchase something to eat since I hadn't been able to eat in so long because I was depressed over getting dumped and then going to the store and hearing all this sob-story music. Cripes. Why can't they play fun music, to get you bopping around the aisles, like B-A-N-A-N-A-S, or some Reggae music or the soundtrack of Grease, or some other stuff to make you feel happy about grocery shopping.

But, one thing that did make me happy was that at our grocery store, they have an in-store Starbucks. And after you purchase seven coffees, your next one is free. Guess what? I hit the jackpot this a.m. when it was announced that I would not have to pay for my grandenonfatsugarfreevanilla(NOWHIPBECAUSEIAMNOWCOUNTINGWEIGHTWATCHERPOINTS)latte, and since it was free, "Would I like a venti instead of a grande?"

Uh, duh. Supersize me baby!

So, maybe the venti coffee is what is making me spew out these words like they're the most valuable words I have ever written. On a side-note, my newest vice is to have a tallgrandenonfatsugarfreevanillanowhip, and then to go through the McDonald's drive-through and get a SuperSize Diet Coke with half-ice. I got this combo on Friday, after I had gone to Weight Watchers and discovered that although I hadn't counted points as religiously as I used to, I still lost 2.2 pounds that week. (If you've ever done WW or know of anyone who has lost weight on the program, every single freaking ounce lost counts, hence the point-two previously mentioned.)

But, anyway, the combination of a hot latte and a cold Diet Coke was wowza, and I was pumped!

So, that's my coffee story.

Finally, I was checking out, taking note that Brooke Shields (who I actually got to speak with on the phone once for an article I was writing) is pregnant with baby number two. I say Great for her! And sorry to hear that Brit and Kev are having parental woes. What'd you expect though -- he's like dad to a few other kids -- this baby-making thing is not exciting for him. It's just another notch in his belt, so to speak!

Anyway, I'm checking out and the lady in front of me looks at my stuff, cuz come on, who doesn't check out other peoples' stuff, and she goes, "Looks like somebody runs a daycare?"

I told her that no, I didn't run a daycare but I did have three kids, hence the teddy grahams, juice boxes, fruit snax, cereal, chicken-noodle-o's, raviolis...

I cracked up. Running a day care was the most hilarious thing I'd ever heard, because 1) I would never have the patience to run a daycare, and 2) I would never WANT to run a daycare.

So, there you have it, my grocery store story, no majorly personal info, no embarrassing stories about relatives, no information that might tell you where I live... just some thoughts while shopping. All safe blogging fodder!

posted by S.C.Elle @ 12:57 PM 5 comments

Saturday, November 05, 2005
Playgroup, Anyone?

I just found this online. It's something I wrote a while ago and just discovered it again via Google:

Everything I Needed To KNow, I Learned At Playgroup.

I kind of miss those days when the most exciting event of the week was Playgroup. Unless, of course, it was my turn to host it that week!

posted by S.C.Elle @ 10:14 PM 0 comments

Poi Dog Pondering

Last night we saw my favorite local band, and words can't describe the music, the energy, the atmosphere, the camaraderie of the group there to hear and watch and sing along with Poi Dog Pondering.

I'll try.

They're a local Chicago band who has (or is it have--this is one grammatical rule I just can't ever figure out) been around for probably 15-20 years. We've seen them about 10 times, and each time the show is energetic, uplifting, fascinating. There are about 11 members of the band with loads of instruments -- drums, trombone, cello, violin, guitars, synthesizers. You can't describe the type of music either... it's so ecclectic and different from probably anything you've ever heard, or thought you might like. And some people don't like this music. I do.

When we were in Philly, they came to a small venue, where Abra Moore opened for them. Before the show, Frank Orrall, the lead singer, walked past me and I went up to him, mentioned we used to follow them in Chicago all the time and now we lived out in Philly and were so happy they were in our town. We shook hands, he was very gracious and kind, and of course, I am easily star-struck. Since they are not as well-known on the east as in Chicago, we were front-and-center, Frank's sweat spilling onto me as he sang his songs, which are extemely poetic, thought-provoking, inspirational and even spiritual. The words just get to me.

I ended up front-and-center last night too, and at one point, nearing the end of the show, when Frank stopped to take a swig of his Heineken, I handed him a pen, asking him to sign the playlist taped to the floor. He did, apologizing that it was messy, and gave it to me. During the show he also did that thing where a singer will go into the crowd and be surfed through the hands of the people. How trusting is that -- to allow yourself to swim along a see of strangers, to let them reach for you, to let them move your body through the flow of fans, just so they can grab some energy from you.

And, later, there was a bouquet of flowers on the stage; he took them from the vase and started handing them to people in the audience. I got one, a white lilly not yet open, and later, in the parking garage, I gave my flower to a girl who was at the concert and noted she wished she had one. Heck, I've had a personal conversation with the guy before; I got his signature; I took their bottled water from the stage to drink last night; I also got a guitar pick. She can have the flower. Okay, I'm somewhat of a groupie, I guess you could say.

You have to check them out. Let me know what you think.

posted by S.C.Elle @ 3:48 PM 2 comments


MMMM might be going under some changes in the future because of some unforeseen circumstances I will definitely explain to you later. You may have noticed my archives are no longer available, and I'm considering moving somewhere else into Blog Land.

There are some things I can no longer post about. Topics no longer approved for discussion may or may not include... well, anything of a personal nature, really.

When I started this blog, I didn't take into consideration a thing called Privacy and I might have put myself out there a little too forcefully, and some think this could be a dangerous thing as there are crazies out there, looking to stalk and kill and murder unsuspecting Bloggers who are only Blogging because they love to write, love to hear the thoughts of others, love to connect with other writers.

Someone asked me why I do this. And if I had any friends, and if I was lonely?
Why does anyone do anything they enjoy?
Yes, I have friends.
No, I'm not lonely.

To me, it's a hobby, a form of expressing myself, an artistic outlet, and yeah, maybe I do seek the approval of others; I do want to hear from others that they enjoy my writing style, or that, as a mom, they too can relate to my parenting woes and joys. I do this because I think it's fun and I like to look at life in a humorous way and I like to make people laugh at some of the funny things that go on in my life.

But, when it becomes too much of an exposure, too much information shared, then it might be time to make some changes. And, I guess, in my hastiness to learn to Blog properly, and in my naivety, I might have expressed myself, shared too much, to you.

I might have goofed it all up.

posted by S.C.Elle @ 2:40 PM 6 comments

Thursday, November 03, 2005
There Mom.

Archive Bye-Bye. Happy? 143

posted by S.C.Elle @ 7:30 PM 12 comments

I'm An Aunt!

Hubby's sister and her husband are officially the proud new parents to their son, Ethan Michael, who became theirs today after a long awaited adoption procedure through Russia.

I'm so thrilled and can't wait to meet their baby!

posted by S.C.Elle @ 10:08 AM 6 comments

Lyrical Lunacy

You know how when a line in a song just gets you? I've been listening to this particular song when I'm running and it just hits a nerve in me. I think that if the singer was looking into my eyes, singing these words to me, I might just die.

"I walk along these hillsides in the summer 'neath the sunshine, and am feathered by the moonlight, falling down on me."

Anyone want to guess?

posted by S.C.Elle @ 8:16 AM 3 comments

Wednesday, November 02, 2005
More On Tuesday

Well, well, well, I have just been made the recipient of some very juicy Blog-Gossip and feel extremely privvy to be in on the big secret of two Blog-Lovers who have found each other through their Blogs, and will, because I am not a Blog-Ruiner, continue to remain nameless until the two make their own announcement on their own blogs. Why ruin all the fun!?

I knew having a Confessional Tuesday would pay off in a major way! Congrats to the lovebirds. I am sooo psyched for you two and cannot wait for the book to come out! You have to write the book--there is not one out there on finding love Blog-Style. Hell, I'll be your agent!

On another note, I have, once again, stolen something from the very talented, and I'm sure beautiful, (judging from her kindergarten picture) MoDigLi

So, to answer the burning questions on blogging:

1. Do you try to look hot when you go to the grocery store just in case someone recognizes you from your blog?
No, I just try to remember the damn list, but I do know someone who puts on a ton of lipstick and heels to shop at the grocery store while on vacation, in a town where the odds are completely ZILCH that she'll run into anyone she knows.

2. Are the photos you post Photoshopped or otherwise altered?
I don't alter photos. What you see is what you get.

3. Do you like it when creeps or dorks email you?
Creeps, yes. Dorks, no.

4. Do you lie in your blog?
Depends. What's your definition of a lie?

5. Are you passive-aggressive in your blog?
I'm not sure what that means? Anyone care to explain? Does this mean I'm bitter, or I try to get back at someone who has wronged me? Probably.

6. Do you ever threaten to quit writing so people will tell you not to stop?
Yeah, I think I did that once, and thanks to all those who told me not to stop!

7. Are you in therapy? If not, should you be? If so, is it helping?
I'm not in therapy. I went to a 'counselor' for two or three visits a few years back. The first appointment, I cried, spilled my guts. The second appointment, I had to make up shit so we could use the whole hour. The third appointment, we stared at each other until the hour was up.

8. Do you delete mean comments? Do you fake nice ones?
I have gotten some mean comments but I didn't delete them. I didn't fake any nice ones.


10. If your readers knew you in person, would they like you more or like you less?
I don't know, can my readers who do know me in person answer this one in the comments?

11. Do you have a job?
Actually, yeah, kind of, and I just got a promotion, kind of. But first off, I am a mom, and that's my number one job. My "sorta-kinda-paying" job is an editor for a parenting website, and I love doing this because I can work any time I want, work as many or as few hours as I want. I also hope to be able to say in the future that yes, I do have a job, and my job title is AUTHOR. (I'm not going to be so off-the-wall and request BEST-SELLING, but if that were to accompany the job title, I'd take it!)

12. If someone offered you a decent salary to blog full-time without restrictions, would you do it?

13. Which blogger do you want to meet in real life?
J Holden, Christa, DD, Joel, Alani, Breakup Babe, Erin, Memphis Steve seems kind of cool, Tulip... Oh gosh, I know there are more... Oh yeah, Agent 007 for sure... sorry if I missed you--not intentional! Oh, and Stephanie Klein so I can kick her in the ass. I no like her.

14. Which bloggers have you made out with?
Breakup Babe, Christa, Tulip--basically all the girls.

15. Do you usually act like you have more money or less money than you really have?
I think I don't act either way. I gripe a lot about being on credit-card parole, but really don't make judgments on who has money. It's all in the heart, baby, it's what you got right here (thumps chest).

16. Does your family read your blog?
Oh yeah. Hi everyone! Well, I know my mom does, because she thinks I'm going to get murdered because I am too open about things. I wasn't sure about my MIL, but she told me the other day she enjoyed the pics I posted when my girlfriends were in town. I think quite a few friends of mine read this. Hoping someday ex-boyfriends will google me and find Manic Mom and read all about me and think "Wow, and to think I let her get away!" Ha!

17. How old is your blog?
I've been blogging one year in December and it is so addicting.

18. Do you get more than 1000 page views per day? Do you care?
I don't get 1000 page views a day. I think I average 200-400 though, which is pretty cool. I'm at 22,000 hits now, but that's not from when I started cuz I couldn't figure out how to put a tracker on.

19. Do you have another secret blog in which you write about being depressed, slutty, or a liar?
Yes, it's called:

20. Have you ever given another blogger money for his/her writing?
No but I often offer sexual favors. KIDDING.

21. Do you report the money you earn from your blog on your taxes?
Money, what money?

22. Is blogging narcissistic?
It's therapy. Here's a question for you--"Is reading blogs voyeristic?"

23. Do you feel guilty when you don't post for a long time?
No, just the opposite, like right now my poor son is upstairs coughing up a lung and here I am, blogging my heart out.

24. Do you like John Mayer?
Totally, totally, totally. Love the song... shit, what's it called, it's on my itunes... Oh yeah, Body is a Wonderland. I even blogged about that song once. And the highschool song is pretty cool too.

25. Do you have enemies?
Anyone? Anyone? Beuhler?

26. Are you lonely?

27. Why bother?
See answer #22.

P.S.--Did I get you on number 19?

posted by S.C.Elle @ 8:58 PM 7 comments

Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Confessional Tuesday

Okay, I'm going to confess something every Tuesday. It might be something really juicy, or really something I just shouldn't share, but I'm going to confess to something every Tuesday, and if you feel like a cleansing is necessary on your part, please, send me a confession in the comments.

Here's my confession:

I sleep with a Woobie.

I haven't always; in fact, I have only had this particular Woobie for a few years, but I love it. It's an off-pink color, not quite pink, not quite purply, almost a dusty mauve, and I think I got it at TJ Maxx a while back. It's got a homemade feel to it, like it's crocheted and sometimes I stick my fingers through the holes of it when I sleep. Or I spoon my Woobie, or wrap it around my body before I snuggle into my bed and get under the real covers. It comforts me. I love my Woobie.

There. My confession. What's yours?