2006 August archive at Redsy

Archive for August, 2006

Aug

Bird Flu

By R 0 Comments

Categories: Fun Games and Sexual

Here’s what being sick means now that I’m in my late 30s and have successfully reproduced a triplet of girls under 5 whose endless needs spike up as my energy crashes.

1. Morning dose of twinfighting escalates and ends with hitting and yelling and bad words ("You are a butt poop!")

2. Last Swim Lesson cannot be missed, temperature and sore throat notwithstanding

3. Feel hungover, but without the benefit of pre-party or cute dress or drunk sex with hubcap.

4. The over-talk famous among parents of twins everywhere fades into a not wholly unpleasant background buzzing noise, followed by call-outs

"Momma! MOOOOOMMMMMAAAAAA! Ma- Maaa! Answer us! Right This Minute!!"

5. Start watching the clock and realize it’s going to be a long one…

6. Play fun game called "Tune In / Tune Out" where I listen to snippets of the constant talking that goes like this

"…and the family lived in the bubble.."

"…nine, ten, YOU’RE the witch!"

"I told you, pee, talk to your parents!"

" Don’t worry, mama, we’re just being ghostses…"

7. And we’re out of coffee…

Aug

Every Mama Needs…

By R 2 Comments

Categories: Every Mama Needs... and Sexual

To consume 2 cups of coffee before having to explain where the dog went when he died
To teach her kids to get themselves breakfast so that she can sleep past 7am
To institute "quiet play time" until the kids are in college to insure daily down time
To get laid properly, slowly, and lovingly without hearing "Mama! I’m out of WAAAAAATER!" yelled from the other room…

Aug

Sassy Pantses

By R 0 Comments

Categories: Reds

My twin daughters are full of vim, vigor, and confidence. They
proclaim that they are "brave, strong, and powerful" and I’m very
proud. But the Darlings of the Self Esteem are also excited about
outnumbering mama and putting (keeping?) me in my place.

SASSY PANTSES

1+1 = 1 MILLION

SHE

I’m often identified as "she" (as in, "shhhhh, she might hear us")
and it’s usually stage whispered from the next room as I try and do
dishes, and they try and rule the world.

Thus, the confidence I try and grow in the wee birds frequently bites me in the arse. Such is life with the Wonder Twin Daughters o’ Sass.

Thank GOD I’m the only one allowed to drink coffee and chant to myself "I’m in charge. I’M in charge. I’m in CHARGE, dammit!"

Aug

Ask Me, I Know

By R 1 Comment

Categories: Ask Me Something

Here are some fun questions I’ve been asked:

"So. Do you love your daughters enough?"
"Did your hips expand after you had kids?"
"Does your husband mind that you breastfeed?"
"Tell me all about your life. Are you happy?"
"You had your twins out of wedlock?"

The problem with these questions isn’t that they’re rude and overly personal, the problem is they mirror questions my Inner Mormon (IM) sometimes asks me when I wake up in the middle of the night. IM is there to hound me with doubts about all the bad/good/I don’t know choices I’ve made thus far. And even though all’s apparently well that ends well, they still haunt around.

One of the things good girlfriends do for each other is share these doubting thoughts and then apply a salve of understanding…

So share yours with me. It’s free and I’m always nice to gal pals. Post here or email me: crankmama@gmail.com

Aug

Drop Out

By R 0 Comments

Categories: Fun Games

Cleaning up throw-up notwithstanding, a girl can have fun beyond her wildest dreams as a mom. Here?s a fun game. I like to call it ?Drop Out.? Let?s say you?re home of an evening and the kids are in bed. Your husband starts to tell you a story about his golf game, or his meeting with the company, or his latest research on grass. Here is how ?Drop Out? works. You sit very very still and stare quietly out the window and don?t respond at all. When
he repeatedly calls your name (assuming he?s noticed you?re not
listening), slowly turn your head and fix him with a totally blank
stare. If your eyes are half-closed so much the better. Then, barely and inaudibly mumble ?huh?? Better yet, just stare at him and don?t say a thing. At
this point, he?ll either abandon his story all together (you win),
retell the story from the beginning (you lose), or keep on talking from
where he left. Just think of the fun!!

Or, you can play a new game I just made up called ?Watch the Mad Lady.? Wait
until one of your babysitters comes to watch the kids and announce
?Here comes Jiggles? in sing-song voice as they walk over to you.

See? Fun.

Aug

Eye Candy

By R 1 Comment

Categories: Sexual

So I?ll share with you my latest and most secret problem. It
seems to have a direct relationship to how little sleep I managed to
get this weekend, what with the stomach flu sweeping through my family
and all. Nevertheless, it?s a problem I?ve had before and perhaps you can relate. It has to do with men. And lust. And
the fact that I?ve unfortunately hit my sexual prime at the very moment
I?m wearing big jeans, getting no sleep, practicing dubious personal
hygiene, and developing new wrinkles daily.

It?s the men in their 20s. They are everywhere. Is it just me or do they just keep getting cuter? I know, I know, they are probably all lousy in bed and selfish and terrible to women and never call their mothers, but, oh my. Those boys sure do wear jeans nicely.

When I spot one, it?s like someone dropping chocolate in the middle of my carrots & spinach world. I look. I sigh. I move on. And that little hit of beauty and longing makes my days so much brighter, I consider it an innocent diversion. In fact, I highly recommend it for all mothers everywhere because everyone knows that mama needs some sugar too.

I cannot stress enough that when I was in my 20s I
dated these men and I?m sure I was right to chuck them for not really
?knowing? or ?understanding? me. Seriously, how could a woman stay with a man who refused to truly get the women?s movement? After
all, how was I to know at the sweet age of 20 that I?d never again see
(or feel) a flat stomach after I turned 30, except in movies?

Perhaps men in their 20s exist to help women in their 30s discover the joy of ogling. Having
survived our teens and 20s being the object of desire for all men
everywhere, maybe this is our chance to turn the tables. Maybe it?s our
turn to be can be the admirer, the watcher, the whistler even (don?t
tell). For me, men in their 20s are like the size 4 (ok
fine, size 6) jeans I keep in my drawer–to look at longingly and dream
of wearing–knowing that I never will.

Next time you?re driving somewhere, do me a favor. Turn
down Raffi or Sesame Street, pretend you?re driving a sleek sportscar
rather than your smelly kidmobile and scan the streets for a cute guy
in his 20s. And once you find him, go ahead and take a nice, long, loving look. I know it will make your day just a little bit brighter. Just don?t crash the car.

Aug

Oh Canada…

By R 0 Comments

Categories: Reds

When on a trip in another country with a baby, even if it is a friendly Canadian type country, one must come prepared. Apparently this ought to include baby helmet, suture equipment, food, and lots of money.

As I quickly learned this weekend, the delight of
a newly walking child on a wobbly boat is trumped only by the backache
of the parent charged with keeping said child from toppling overboard. As
I chased around in a crouched position, bitterly noting the lack of
food with any discernable fat or sugar or salt, any food at all for
that matter, I swore under my breath at my folly in agreeing to this
trip in the first place. Dinner, it seemed, would be served around 9pm. Eventually, I decided it was time for mommy and b3(baby 3) to go for a fucking walk.

We made our way into the ?fun touristy? streets,
crammed with cars and mysterious sidewalks that ended in the middle of
streets –much too narrow to accommodate my off roadin? stroller and
bad attitude. I wandered around feeling shipwrecked until
I spied a friendly enough looking cash machine and sang blessings as I
extracted a number of bills sure to protect us from imminent nonfat
food hell.

The nearest food-like place was a large loud and
crowded organic market with stalls filled with fruit, art, hemp
clothing, but who needs plants when one needs a burger?We eventually
found sustenance and returned to the foodless boat. After listening to
in-depth discussion about pedicures, shopping, and leisure time
endlessly filled with travel, I had scads of fun chasing a newly
energized b3 hither and yon as she found each and every corner to
impale her head upon.

The weekend finally ended, but not before I
collided with the corner of an iron gate, fought with my husband in a
wine store, and dissolved into tears in front of my ?if you don?t have
anything nice to say don?t say anything at all? in-laws.

Next time, I?ll bring my own cheeseburger, child helmet, case of wine, and cranky girlfriend. Now THAT?s something worth traveling for?

Aug

Stay At Home, Mama

By R 0 Comments

Categories: Reds

I?ve heard many women take issue with the label ?stay at home mom? because when one is a SAHM, one rarely does stay at home. In
fact, you are much more likely to taxi kids to classes, take part in
the mysteriously popular ?mommy & me? classes ? my idea of a great
class would be called ?daddy & me? ? than your working for pay
sisters of capitalism. See what you think of my new little jingle.

Go to your classes of knitting and art
Follow the crowds to the small sunny park
Pack up the kids with the cooler and wipes
Wave ?hi? on the field as your waiting child snipes
I?ll be at home while my darling kids play
Not a carseat to buckle, nor a fit to delay

Or something like that. I
love staying home when I?m off work? the kids and I all stay in our
PJ?s until odd hours, play easily with what?s here, and even have time
for rest and daydreaming. It?s the only way to go. Every time I start to feel guilty and organize an edifying outing of some sort, I almost always regret it by the 3^rd potty trip, or fit, or fight, or fall. And
while my rebel self enjoys the scene caused by twins and a young baby
having a simultaneous crying jag, MM (mean mommy) surfaces, using
an irritable voice and pledging warnings? nothing terrible just lots of
backward car yelling ?if you kids don?t quit, you?ll get a TIME OUT
WHEN WE GET HOME? and that sort of thing, which is murder on the back,
don?t you know. Whereas, if I stay home, where all the
outlets are covered, stairs gated, furniture soft, and sandwich fixin?s
fresh and inexpensive, a fun time might just happen after all.

So I propose a new label for gals like me: No Place Like Home Moms (or NPLHM) or Nice Peeps Lounge for Hours, Mary?

Aug

Fun Games

By R 0 Comments

Categories: Fun Games

Box

Many children are involved in enriching and educational activities from a very early age. My kids haven?t been in classes until now and they are nearly ready for Kindergarten. To
be specific, they aren?t currently enrolled in any of the following:
soccer, karate, Spanish, dance, gymnastics, interpretive dance, or
nonviolent communication.

They are, as my husband and I affectionately call them ?bucket head kids?. They
are the ones who play all day with relatively little structure, happy
to put buckets on their head and ram into walls for fun. Very little television means they have creativity that includes a fun game called ?Box?. And, as you can probably guess, this is where they play with an empty box.

Sometimes for hours

Aug