I'm With The Band

Say what?

2011-02-18T18:54:00.000-08:00

Once again I've let this blog go silent for a long time. I think it's because I have nothing to say that hasn't been said in previous posts. Cranky husband. Three kids. Very tired. Those last pregnancy pounds still there. I honestly can't think of anything to say.

Part of my job involves keeping up with "mommy" blogs and there are so few that really interest me. If I don't want to read about other kids pooping in their pants, why would I expect anyone to enjoy reading about my own kids doing it?

Maybe my life will become less like the movie Groundhog Day and more interesting at some point. After each of my kids was born I kept hearing, "Things will change"; "It will get easier"; etc. etc. Things did change, things got easier, and then - stop the madness! - I kept having more kids. And they kept turning out to be boys. So the "it will get easier" part is still in my future. Years in my future. For one thing, Cranky Jr. #3 has still not figured out how to alert us that he needs to use the toilet.

So in case anyone was concerned, I'm alive - and if I can think of anything worthwhile to say, I'll let you know.

Chipmunks part trois

2009-09-06T13:30:00.000-07:00

I mentioned a while back that the chipmunks have returned. The bricks on the patio and walkway have come unearthed. Holes keep appearing in the dirt. Cranky keeps fixing things and the next morning this work has been undone.

What to do? He's tried every kind of ammo known to man, apart from dropping a nuclear bomb on our property. Actually, considering how we feel about our surroundings right now that might not be such a bad idea.

As upset as Cranky is, he is mercifully not as crazed as he was last year. He just ordered more glue traps but he's not running wild-eyed around the property looking for more places to put them. We have almost become resigned to seeing another member of the chipmunk family = and clearly there are MANY of them - popping up.

We have other things to worry about - Cranky Jr. #1's so far unpleasant experience at grade school, Cranky Jr. #2's thuggery...and our little mountain climber Cranky Jr. #3 falling off of something. We have distractions like breaking up a fight between Jr.s #1 and #2 riding in the cart during family outing to Costco yesterday, thinking Jr. #2 is totally toilet-trained and then getting a nasty surprise...the list goes on.

So while we're not totally at the "live and let live" stage we at least are managing to co-exist with the chipmunks without driving ourselves nuts. We've got kids for that.

Typical

2009-08-23T09:48:00.000-07:00

I am married to probably the greatest husband ever. That said, Cranky has annoying quirks, just like anyone.

A typical sample:

Cranky comes home early from work and plops himself down in front of his computer and turns on the TV. The kids are playing with me in Cranky Jr. #1's room. The phone rings. It is our babysitter calling for me. I head to our room to pick it up. As I begin speaking the kids start screaming. Cranky looks at me and points in their direction - meaning I should go deal with it while I'm on the phone and he is just sitting there. After I hang up I express my annoyance. His response?

"Well, I'm not supposed to be home right now."

We're doomed

2009-08-10T06:14:00.000-07:00

Some people might ask why we can't go on long trips at this particular juncture. No, we haven't taken a vacation in a long time. Yes, we are tired and stressed out and yes, we deserve one.

However, let me recap the events of yesterday, and you be the judge:

We pack up the kiddies in the van and head to a mall to look at desks for Jr.

As we pull into the parking lot we hear a suspiciously explosive sound from the back.

I remove Jr. #2 from the car and clean up gallons of diarrhea from his legs, shoes and bottom. I throw wipes and destroyed underwear in a plastic bag to throw away. I throw soiled yet potentially salvageable shorts in the trunk.

I have no extra shorts but his shirt covers his clean underwear. We get to the mall and I run into a kids' clothing store and buy a pair of shorts.

We put them on him in the store and head to Pottery Barn Kids to look at desks. After we discover none of them are the right size I think I smell something. I see a woman looking at me in disgust. I look down and notice Jr #2s new shorts have a watery brown stain heading south. I drag him to the store bathroom and try to clean him. I run out of wipes and start using paper towels. I have one extra plastic bag in which I put the new dirty shorts. I realize I have no new underwear, pull-ups or diapers, just Jr. #3's size 3 diapers. I put one on him, hanging together by a thread and pray they stay on until we get home.

We leave the store in shirt and precarious diaper and head to the parking lot. Jr. #2 spies a play area and takes off. We chase him around and around. I am terrified the diaper will fall off. We finally make it to the car.

There is a chance Cranky is going to win a company-paid trip next year. He may have to go alone.

Don't U Forget About Me

2009-08-07T10:49:00.000-07:00

So John Hughes has passed away - director of all those 80s movies my best pal Becky and I went to see, and soundtrack to my teenage life. He directed my then-future now ex-boyfriend Ray Gun Geek #1 from "Pretty In Pink" (or was he Ray Gun Geek #2?).

Becky and I enjoyed those movies but absolutely could not relate to anything his characters did. We were the kind of kids every parent of a teenage daughter hopes to have. Our big idea of a Saturday night was to order a pizza and watch TV. We never got into trouble, never even experimented with anything other than an entire pan of brownies. But we had lots of fun watching the movies.

RIP John Hughes.

Today's Playlist In Memoriam:

"Don't You Forget About Me" - Simple Minds
"Pretty In Pink" - Psychedelic Furs
"Old Time Rock and Roll" - Bob Seger

Oh so funny

2009-06-05T10:17:00.000-07:00

A frequent comment I hear upon meeting people who know my husband: "Oh, he's so funny! You must laugh all the time at home!" Yes, it's a laugh a minute here in the Cranky household. I was approached yesterday about working with a band whose title refers to dirty socks. Will I have time? Cranky's comment: "You can't even handle the dirty socks at home!"

This may actually be true but irritating nonetheless.

Here I go again

2009-04-03T19:43:00.000-07:00

I can't believe i haven't written anything here in two years! Actually, yes I can. Cranky started a new career, we remodeled the house, Baby #3 made his unexpected yet wonderful entry into the world....too much going on even to write bits and pieces here and there.

But I've become inspired by stumbling across a colleague's delightful blog - after one read I decided to jump back on the bandwagon so to speak - hahahaaaa!

She's wondering, after leaving a record label job a few months ago, whether she can make her rock and roll dreams come true. I'm wondering, after leaving a rock and roll job over ten years ago (!) whether I can too. Her new client and my potential new client are one and the same. Let's hope it works out for the both of us!!

So maybe I'll start writing about it. Stay tuned....

Oh No

2007-08-31T07:45:00.000-07:00

I thought we were in the clear. I thought I could look forward to Cranky coming home in a relatively decent mood (relative being the operative word). I thought I wouldn't have to go through endless packages arriving at the door, each with the latest technology to eliminate chipmunks.

I was wrong.

Yesterday afternoon I heard Jr. screaming from the patio. I ran over, to find him sitting on his tricycle crying hysterically that a chipmunk had popped up and scared him.

They're back.

And there's nothing we can do to stop them.

War is Hell

2007-08-23T06:48:00.000-07:00

My husband Cranky is a fanatical golfer yet is utterly uninterested in the movie "Caddyshack."

My brother has zero interest in golf yet "Caddyshack" is one of his top two favorite movies.

Which one actually lived out the Bill Murray/rodent war in real life?

Cranky, if you read his most recent post, has finally won the never-to-be-forgotten War of the Chipmunk. Yes he has remorse and yes some people have commented negatively on his blog about it. But folks, you don't have to live with him. You have no idea what it is like to dread the sound of the garage door opening at 4:30 every day, knowing his first order of business after work was to check on the chipmunk situation. You can't imagine the torture of living with someone who comes in the house raging about this thing to the point that he can't focus on anything else.

I happen to be a vegetarian. I'm not crazy about the idea of killing animals (although truthfully my reasons for being veggie are more health-oriented). And while the thought of Cranky going medieval on this thing is distasteful, I'm more relieved than upset. One chipmunk down, I get my life back.

And all you Cranky detractors who are appalled at the death of a rodent, maybe you'll think twice next time you put that portion of dead cow on a bun in your mouth.

Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs

2007-06-05T06:12:00.000-07:00

Some children are picky eaters.

Then there's Jr.

Yes, our little pride and joy eats an extremely limited diet. He won't try anything new, ever. This is a challenge at every meal time but especially at breakfast when I need to get him to school on a full tummy.

Morning after morning he asked for waffles or pancakes with veggie sausage links. For something like two years. I could sometimes get him to eat a granola or cereal bar instead but he usually didn't finish them. He'll eat Cheerios but dry - he has never had cereal with milk. I have despaired of the situation ever changing.

This morning I feel like a genius. I got him to eat a bowl of cereal with milk. How? Two little words, words so simple that I'm amazed I didn't think of them earlier.

Cocoa Pebbles.

I Hate Mother's Day.

2007-05-13T09:35:00.000-07:00

For those of you who can't stand the suspense - Today is Mother's Day. And?

Cranky came downstairs and sat on the couch. I waited a while before finally asking if there was anything he wanted to say.

"Huh? Oh yeah - happy Mother's Day."

I had to remind him it was Mother's Day so that he would remember to go to the car and get the card that I reminded him to buy. What's the point?

Then Jr Jr had an "event" in his diaper and Cranky looked at me, expectantly. I gave him a dirty look, so he started the changing process - and then halfway through had to call for reinforcements.

Happy Mother's Day to me.

Every Day Is Mother's Day

2007-05-08T14:17:00.000-07:00

Mother's Day is fast approaching and I'm waiting to find out if I'm going to be a part of it.

Yes, I'm a mother. I still can't believe it, but I am mother to two adorable boys. I've been a mother for four years. Have I ever received even a card from hubby? NOOOOO!!!

It appears that once again we will be partaking in a group Mother's Day brunch or BBQ, so at least there's that. I'm not expecting any further festivities or special time reserved for me. I've gotten better about this - I don't even flinch now when I see those "Mother's Day Spa Gift Package" promotions at the gym.

Still, I've left catalogs and "Mother's Day Gift Guides" in magazines conveniently strewn about the family room (OK, I'll admit the celebrity who secretly commissioned a bust of their son for his wife was a little over the top). I've dropped several hints, even mentioning the cute peapod necklace with tiny pearls inside, one for each child. I should know by now that hints don't register in Cranky's brain. "You know, I'm really stiff and sore - I could really use a massage." HINT!!

Yeah, right. Who's listening? Mother's Day, Arbor Day, Passover - what's the difference? "Why is this night different from all other nights?" I'm here to tell you - it ain't!!

Maybe this will be the year I get a card.

It's A Mad Mad Mad Mad World

2007-04-28T08:43:00.000-07:00

While it may not be apparent from most of my postings, I am actually nearly as interested in politics and world affairs as Cranky. However, since his blog expresses most of my opinions in a different, yet entertaining way, I've decided to let him be the political voice of the Cranky household.

After a hiatus, hubby recently came back to writing. And one of his readers came back to posting comments. Someone who vehemently opposes his views and nastily claims Cranky won't engage in a rational debate or pay any attention to a Republican (ignoring the fact that one of Cranky's favorite bloggers is Andrew Sullivan. And by the way, he enjoys jousting with family members who have different political views). Someone who apparently knows him or at least is pretending to know him, but is too cowardly to "out" himself, even privately. Someone who thinks I must be a saint to put up with him and God help our kids.

To be fair, said reader apologized for the comments about me and our children. But I'd like to make something clear to him or her.

Yes, Cranky's crankiness can sometimes be frustrating, as I'm sure some of my quirks are to him. But if we're going to invoke God or Zeus or any kind of deity, let's get something straight. I'm lucky to have him. Our kids are lucky to have him. I don't care if he's a Democrat, Republican, Libertarian, monarchist, carnivore or vegetarian - I would have married him anyway. He's the best husband and father in the world.

On second thought....

2007-04-27T09:38:00.000-07:00

I might throw in the whole closet. I think I'm too tired to do this a third time!

Today's Playlist:

"Sleepy Time For Teddy Bears"
"Goodnight"
"Go Back To Bed"
"What Are You Doing Out Of Bed"
"Don't Feed Him Honey"

Throw in the Towel?

2007-04-09T08:02:00.000-07:00

It has been 8 months since Cranky Jr Jr entered the world - 8 months since my large pink Ralph Lauren towel made its' way from my house to my doula's car to the hospital and back to my doula's house - where it went missing until now.

If you're not familiar with the term "doula," in my case she was a sort of labor coach, helping me to deliver Jr Jr sans drugs - believe it or not, a much better and easier experience that my first labor with drugs. While I won't say it was a walk in the park, the entire experience was very special for me. She came to our house when I went into labor - I had been in bed, then went to the floor, then back in bed where my water broke and the doula grabbed a towel from our closet to put under me. When it was time to go (frankly I think we should have left a little earlier - trust me, you don't want to be in transistion phase in a jeep on the highway for 20 minutes) I sat on the towel as we drove to the hospital and when they put me in the wheelchair from the parking lot into the building.

Our precious Jr Jr entered the world shortly thereafter (it was a relatively quick labor, at least in comparison to 14 hours with Jr) and the towel went home with the doula. A few weeks later I emailed her about it. She said it had disappeared. We were in touch sporadically after that - she still couldn't find it and I said it was no big deal.

A couple of weeks ago the doula emailed to say it had miraculously appeared! We never got around to going to her house to pick it up. Last night as I sat on the couch with Jr Jr the doorbell rang. There she was, with my pink towel in a bag. I almost burst into tears when I saw her. Cranky was totally unable to understand how emotional I instantly became, but the doula knew and understood immediately - she's had seven kids.

I didn't want her to leave. I didn't want to let go of that experience. I guess that's why I still have the postpartum creams and girly things that I bought for right after the birth. I even have the spray bottle from the hospital - OK, I know you're probably thinking that's too much information. She wasn't able to stay because one of her kids was in the car. When she closed the door I became totally weepy and Cranky was totally perplexed. "Why are you crying? You should be happy!"

The towel is still sitting in the bag. I don't think I can use it. I won't remember which one it was if it goes in with all the other towels. I want to hang on to the tangible things that were part of a special time.

As the doula was leaving, she whispered, "Are you thinking of having another one?"

I looked to make sure Cranky wasn't nearby. "Well, he doesn't want to but....."

Should I throw in the towel?

To be continued...

I'm Bad; I'm Nationwide

2007-02-15T08:27:00.000-08:00

Picking up where I left off, Cranky redeemed himself last night with flowers, candy, a card and dinner (OK, the dinner was not his idea but whatever), so things are looking up in that department.

In the sickness department, things keep getting worse. Jr. Jr.'s fever turned into a cold, which brought on an eye infection and now croup, which manifested itself in the middle of the night last night. Meaning once again I'm not going to be able to go to the gym, since I'm exhausted.

But that's not what I want to discuss here. I want to discuss the original Jr., our number one son, a.k.a. Ladies' Man.

Yesterday I picked him up from his Valentine's Day party at school. He came running out of the classroom with a big heart painted on his cheek. I told him it was time to leave and to please put on his boots. Did he hear me? No. He was busy chasing down all the girls in his class to give them a goodbye Valentine hug, or should I say, the Heimlich. His teacher, who has a son the same age, came out to chat. She also asked him to put on his boots. Did he hear her? No. He was busy bouncing around like a maniac. I felt embarrassed. Jr's best friend was nearby getting ready to leave as well, calmly putting on his coat, and the teacher made a comment about how mellow he is. "Well, Jr. is obviously not mellow," I said sheepishly. She tried to comfort me. "Oh, my son isn't either." I still felt embarrassed. I tried being firm, I tried physically dragging him but despite his skinny frame he's extremely strong. "I have to say goodbye to Kathleen! I have to see what's in my goody bag! I want to go zoom!" He took off.

Jr. is not a rotten kid by any stretch of the imagination; rather, he's a force of nature. He has made his imprint with everyone, parents included, at the school - in fact, he's famous. He wants everyone to know he's the man, he's in charge - and he's available if you're cute.

Today's Playlist:
"Sweet Home Alabama" - Lynyrd Skynrd"

Valentine, Schmalentine

2007-02-09T09:30:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again. Chocolate. Red roses. A card. Maybe some jewelry &/or dinner if you're lucky.

I love all that stuff. Always did. Even as a kid, I remember hanging out at the drugstore contemplating the large array of Fannie May heart-shaped boxes of chocolate. Once I made a Valentine mailbox and put a bunch of valentines in it for my parents and brother. I made everyone sit there and get their (multiple) valentines one by one.

I'm still semi-obsessed except now it's on Jr's behalf - I spent last night (when not tending to Jr Jr's fever) at the grocery store getting supplies for his preschool party. Vanilla frosting, valentines (which I had to sign but not address. Jr. didn't get past a couple on his own), and goody bag items. I stood in the Valentine aisle forever, sweating over which candy to get (let's see - Butterfingers are made with peanuts but these are cute; they're heart-shaped - does anyone in his class have a peanut allergy, or is it cashews...hmm..). The prior day I stewed over rubber bracelets vs. pencils at Party City.

Yesterday after work Cranky came into the bedroom and said "You're not expecting anything for Valentine's Day, are you?" I gave him a dirty look. "Well, we're married now..." he said. Meaning he shouldn't have to bother. I gave him another dirty look. "Well I don't know what to get you. What should I get you?" "It's not that difficult," I said. If I tell him what to get it doesn't seem special. How hard is this? "Well, when am I even supposed to get something? We're not going out to dinner or anything are we?" he said.

I'm thinking of crashing Jr's Valentine's Day party at school for comfort.

Today's Playlist:
"More Than A Feeling" -Boston (it was on at the grocery store)
"Just What I Needed" - The Cars

Barf Me Out

2007-01-31T08:55:00.000-08:00

Ah, the folly of trying to plan a workout schedule. It has been six months since Jr. Jr. entered the world and I'm still wearing my maternity jeans, with seven pounds to go.

Every time I get a good night's sleep (not often) and I've recovered from one of the illnesses that Jr. brings home from preschool, I think "Ok, NOW I'm going to be able to get back in shape." I go back to the gym for a couple of days. Then I'll either have a terrible night's sleep when Jr. Jr. decides to wake up at an ungodly hour, or I'll get sick again.

This week has been no exception. Jr. brought home a particularly bizarre and nasty virus which seemed to only strike at night and lasted for days. Every night at around 10 PM he would barf all over his sheets. I put a wastebasket next to his bed but he never managed to aim at it. Every night I washed the mattress pad, sheets and comforter. I got a milder version of it, in which I'm mildly nauseated during the day and have horrendous stomach cramps at night. So far Jr. Jr. seems OK (knock wood). And of course Crankyboy is OK, since he NEVER gets sick. Maybe I should go on his Cheetos, Doritos and cheese pizza diet. It doesn't seem to matter that I wash my hands like a maniac and open doors with my sleeve (Cranky jokes that I'm like Howard Hughes).

Today Jr. is finally back at school. We'll see what he brings home next. I'll be happy if it's a girl and not a virus.

Today's Playlist:
"Crazy Train" - Ozzy Osbourne
"Safety Dance" - Men Without Hats
"Call Me" - Blondie

I'm Baaack

2006-11-27T13:07:00.000-08:00

Yes, I have returned - to write a new blog that I will allow Crankyboy to approve in advance. Stay tuned...