Mother Chick

I Still Kind of Hate Money and Budgets

2011-09-02T07:00:00.001-04:00

In a previous post I discussed my hatred for all things money and budget related. Even though I hate it, I still did it. I made a budget. All of a sudden I have multiple spreadsheets with names like "Cash Flow Analysis" and "Savings Balance" etc.

I now have our bills and expenses calculated out for the rest of 2011 and put myself on a strict budget of $25 per week spending money. That might not seem like a lot. That's because it's NOT. Luckily, I work from home so it's not convenient for me to pop out to get lunch, or drop by Starbucks for a Frappucino. That helps. But still, if I want to indulge in my mani/pedis, I have to like, save my spending money for more than a week to have enough to cover it. So weird. (Mr. Chick's spending money is a whole other topic for another day - trust me, it's complicated.)

Interestingly enough, I started talking about this topic because of a Twitter comment made my Miss Britt and the system I've adopted is really similar to the spreadsheet budgeting method she talked about at one point on her blog. I've actually tried for years to come up with a budgeting system that would work for us and I think I've finally done it. I couldn't figure out exactly what I found so difficult about the other budgets I tried, but I had a huge 'Aha' moment not too long ago.

I realized that a lot of the pre-existing budget spreadsheets and programs are built based on a monthly schedule, but for me, it's easier to budget based on pay period. Mr. Chick and I are both paid bi-weekly on similar schedules, so it's much simpler to budget our money for bills during a pay period, than to look at a month from the first to the last day, when that doesn't usually fit in with our pay cycle. Because of that, I never really had a clear picture of how much money we had, or didn't have.

I now know at any given time, exactly how much money is in our checking and savings accounts. I can tell you how much we'll be able to put in savings by the end of December. I can tell you what the balance on my checking account will be in November. Again, so weird. But, liberating at the same time.

I still haven't made any progress with establishing what our ultimate financial goals are, but hey, the fact that I have a spreadsheet that I look at on a regular basis called 'Cash Flow Analysis' is good enough for me. At least for now.

Lucky Number 13

2011-09-01T07:15:00.001-04:00

Violet turned 13 last weekend. I am now the mother of a teenager. How is that even possible?

We celebrated on Saturday with a 40 person cookout with family and friends and I made this cake, which was pretty awesome if I do say so myself. Alas, the only pictures we got of said cake are below and they don't fully convey the awesomeness that is the Super Special Rainbow Cake:

On Sunday, which was Violet's actual birthday, we marked her 13th year with a round of mini golf and ice cream and Violet's favorite dinner, lasagna. Oh, and more cake. A fun time was had by all.

Did I mention that I'm the mother of a teenager? Crazy.

What's Cookin' Wednesday - Crock Pot Chicken Tortilla Soup!

2011-08-31T17:42:00.000-04:00

For my first edition of What's Cookin' Wednesday, I'm using my chicken tortilla soup recipe because 1) it's awesome and 2) it's what I'm actually making for dinner today. That would be why I'm posting it so late because I actually had to finish it in order to get a picture of the finished product. Such a planner I am.

This is the best chicken tortilla soup and it's so easy because all you do is open a bunch of cans, throw in some chicken breast (which can be frozen) and in 6-8 hours you have yummy deliciousness. This is so good that I've never had anyone eat it and NOT ask for the recipe.

You need all the ingredients shown here, plus chicken breast and a bay leaf. (In a perfect world, I would have remembered to take the picture before I started, instead of remembering after everything was in the crockpot and digging around in the garbage for the empty cans and also realizing I had zero bay leaves left in my spice cabinet. Oops. Oh, and you need some minced garlic too - about two cloves, one small chopped onion and two cups of water. I also add some ground red pepper because we like a little more spice but this soup also has a slight kick without it.)

Once you put all of your ingredients in the crockpot and stir, it will look like this:

Set the crockpot to low if you want to cook 6-8 hours, or high if you want to cook for 3-4 hours.

Just before serving, remove the chicken breasts and shred with a fork.

Return the chicken to the crockpot and stir.

Serve topped with tortilla chips, shredded cheese, sour cream, etc.

INGREDIENTS & INSTRUCTIONS

- 1 lb chicken breast

- 1 small to medium chopped onion

- 2 cloves minced garlic

- 2 cups water

- 1 32 oz carton chicken broth

- 1 can enchilada sauce

- 1 small can diced green chiles

- 1 can diced tomatoes

- 1 t ground cumin

- 1 t chili powder

- 1 t salt

- 1 t black pepper

- 1 bay leaf

Place all ingredients in crock pot and stir. Cover and cook on low 6-8 hours or high for 3-4 hours.

Just before serving, remove chicken breast and shred. Return to crock pot and stir.

Serve topped with tortilla chips and shredded cheese.

Enjoy!

I'm linking up this post with:

In My House, Money is a Four Letter Word...And So Is Budget.

2011-07-20T13:14:00.009-04:00

First, apologies for the unscheduled break in posting. Turns out, writing this post was really difficult and made a break from all things Mother Chick necessary. Strange, considering the incident which was the topic of said post happened 8 years ago, but I reserve the right to feel crappy about the fact that my daughter almost died. So anyway, sorry for the break and love and kisses and all that jazz.

A while back, there was a rather interesting discussion on Twitter on what qualities and traits everyone felt were necessary in order to finally consider yourself a grown up. Someone, I think it may have been Miss Britt, said that it was necessary to be able to make and also stick to a household budget. If that's the case, I'm totally not a grown up, at all. (Disclaimer - this post has nothing to do with Miss Britt's opinion, but is really about how I'm a slacker when it comes to all things finance related).

The thing is, I hate thinking about money, paying bills, savings accounts, 401k, IRA, CDs, the stock market...blah blah blah. Seriously...HATE. Online bill paying has been one of the best things to ever happen to me because I can just set everything up to be paid automatically and I am required to put zero thought into the process. We are fortunate enough to be in a situation where we always have the money to pay our bills, with plenty of discretionary income left over. And, we have a savings account that sometimes has a lot of money in it and sometimes has a little. We save for retirement through various options with our employers, although we could both be doing more in that area, I'm sure.

I just hate dealing with it all and I also hate feeling deprived of the things I want. When I think about putting together an actual household budget, I get all antsy because what if I budget a certain amount for say, going out to eat, and then I want to go out to eat and it's not in the budget? That would piss me off. I know, spoiled bitch, right? Whatever, I own being a spoiled bitch. Even so, the truth of the matter is, I like doing things and doing things costs money. I don't foresee myself ever being the type of person who is like 'Oooh, sitting here at home and playing a game together was SOOO much better than taking the kids to Busch Gardens.' Yes, I know that playing a game together can be fun and economical but is it better than Busch Gardens? No, I don't think it is.

Lately though, Mr. Chick and I have been discussing the fact that we really do need to budget and come up with some financial goals. I've done some research though and the whole thing just seems so damn complicated and like a lot of hard work. While reviewing the advice of some personal finance gurus it seems that everyone recommends that you have a million separate accounts for things like an emergency fund, and a savings fund, and a vacation fund, and a car fund, and this fund and that fund. Thinking about the work involved with actually setting all that up and then separating money into those accounts makes me want to open a 'Just Kill Me Now' fund.

So the other day, I was perusing some personal finance blogs and one PF blogger with a fairly significant following wrote an entire post that was probably 500+ words, complete with charts and cost breakdown analysis on the virtues of using dried beans as opposed to canned beans to save what amounted to like, a dollar. To each his own and all that, and bless that blogger's little heart for having the strength to write 500+ words about beans. That said, if I ever find myself in a position where I'm writing a long meandering post about beans just...kill me now. Seriously.

I really need to get started on that fund.

Things I Thought While Getting a Deep Tissue Massage

2011-07-05T07:22:00.000-04:00

1) Am I supposed to get like naked naked?

2) Oooh, this massage table has an electric warmer. Toasty.

3) You know, I popped a breath mint before we started, why didn't she?

4) Is that muscle supposed to crunch like that?

5) Why does every massage therapist play the same music they play in Chinese restaurants? How is that relaxing?

6) I'm really glad she finds the music and dim lights relaxing but if she yawns in my face on more time, I might involuntarily punch her.

7) I really don't think that muscle is supposed to crunch like that.

8) She really should get a pedicure. She works in a salon/spa, how hard could it be to keep your toes polished?

9) If she runs into the corner to cough into her arm one more time, I'm leaving.

10) This hurts like hell. I'm paying this woman a hundred bucks to beat the shit out of me. Clearly, I'm an idiot.

8 Years Later

2011-07-02T13:25:00.003-04:00

You always remember the day your child almost died. Even now, eight years later, it makes me physically ill to type those words. To even think those words. It doesn't change the fact that they are true. On the evening of July 2, 2003, our Lily almost died after nearly drowning in a swimming pool. She was two years old.

The day began like any other, work for my husband and I, 4th of July crafts at daycare for the girls. When I picked Violet and Lily up, her daycare provider handed me the red, white and blue t-shirts and windcatchers they made that day, along with a picture of all the kids wearing their new shirts, proudly holding up their craft projects. I quickly glanced at the picture, smiled, and went about getting the girls buckled in their car seats.

My phone rang on the drive home and it was my aunt. Would I watch my cousin the next night while she and my uncle went on a date night? Sure, no problem. And hey, why didn't we bring the girls to her to watch tonight so Mr. Chick and I could go furniture shopping without kids in tow. They were having a cookout at their house that night, so the girls could swim with their cousins. Sounded like a plan to me.

When we dropped the girls off, I put Lily's water wings on her little arms and watched her toddle off with my uncle in her little green Elmo bathing suit. "Bye Mommy!" Lily said, as she grabbed my uncle's hand. "You really have to watch her around the pool. She will jump right in because she's not afraid." I said to my aunt. My aunt had raised four kids so I knew that the reminder was more to make me feel better, than me being worried that something would actually happen. I kissed Violet and off we went to furniture shop without kids in tow, which felt like a luxury. When Mr. Chick asked if I wanted to go out to eat after finishing at the furniture store, I thought for a second and decided we would go back and get something to eat at the cookout and watch the girls swim. I had no idea at the time what the implications of that decision would end up being. It would end up saving our child's life.

As we pulled up to the house and got out of the car, I noticed my dad running out the front door with the phone in his hand. "That's weird," I remember thinking. As I got out of the car, I heard him yelling. "If you know CPR, get in there!" We still didn't know what had happened or who was in trouble, but with Mr. Chick's first responder training as a deputy sheriff, we knew we had to hurry. We ran through the house and my world stopped. It was my baby that needed help. I saw Lily's little legs hanging over the edge of the pool while my husband performed CPR, trying to get her to breathe. I remember squeezing my grandmother's arm, screaming for my baby, trying to get anyone to tell me what had happened to her. There were no less than 15 adults around that pool and not one person could tell me how long she had been under the water.

After what seemed like an hour, but was really only minutes, my husband picked up Lily and held her to his chest. She was breathing, but was clearly dazed and having trouble. By that time, paramedics had arrived and they grabbed my little girl and loaded her into an ambulance. For some reason, they would not let me in with her, so we were going to have to follow in our car. I remember that after the ambulance tore off, I saw my aunt in the driveway, watching the scene unfold. I let out a scream unlike anything I've ever heard before which I can only describe as unadulterated RAGE. I was beyond furious. As I ran toward my aunt, I screamed "I'm going to FUCKING kill you!" and at the time, I meant it. My husband grabbed me around the waist and threw me in our car, so my anger was going to have to wait.

In the car, I rocked back and forth, unable to sit still. The best way that I can describe it is that my fear and anger physically hurt. When we got to the hospital, I walked up to the triage desk in the emergency room and I remember the nurse behind the counter ignoring me as she took someone's blood pressure. I stood there for crying for a minute or two, before interrupting to say that my baby had just been brought in by ambulance so that person's blood pressure was just going to have to wait. Another nurse popped out from behind a curtain, grabbed me by the arm and whisked me behind the double doors.

A trauma nurse met me me behind the doors and I was hysterical, asking everyone who would listen if my baby was going to be okay. I have no idea where my husband was during all of this. The trauma nurse was a total bitch, telling me that I was not helping my daughter any by being hysterical and I should just calm down. I was too out of it to respond how I would under normal circumstances, which would be a solid 'Fuck off, bitch.' She steered me to the registration area and said the best thing I could do would be to get Lily's registration completed. Right, because heaven forbid the fucking registration doesn't get done. I still get pissed thinking about that nurse.

Around this time, my mom finally got to the hospital. (Editors note for clarification: My parenst are divorced, so my mom was not there when the accident happened). They brought her to meet me in the registration area and I just collapsed in to her, saying 'Mommy, mommy, mommy...my baby, my baby, my baby' over and over again. I still couldn't sit still so I paced back and forth in the hallway, waiting for the doctor to come out and give me something, anything, any piece of information that I could hold on to.

As I waited, a detective walked up to take my statement about what had happened. They were confused on how this could have happened, with so many adults right there. Understatement of the fucking century. The one thing he said at that time that sticks with me to this day is "Nobody watches your kids as closely as you do." That one statement would end up meaning that nobody would be trusted to babysit our kids for years and years after that.

As I spoke with the detective, I stuck my hand in my back pocket and felt a piece of paper. I pulled out the picture that Lily's babysitter had given me earlier. There in the picture, wearing her homemade red, white and blue flag T-shirt and a beaming smile was my perfect little girl. Getting that picture earlier in the day already seemed like a lifetime away. I prayed for the opportunity to take more pictures like that.

Finally, the doctor came out to speak with my husband and I and his beside manner was about as good as the bitch nurse from earlier. In a matter of fact tone, he said "Well, he's stable for now but she does have water in her lungs and if a kid her age is going to die, it's going to be from a lung injury, so I really can't tell you what's going to happen." I collapsed all over again. My baby. My beautiful perfect baby. We had broken her.

When I finally calmed down, the doctor explained that they were transferring Lily to the children's hospital across town as she would need to be on oxygen in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit and doctors there should be able to tell us more. The bitch nurse handed me a bag and I looked inside, finding Lily's swim diaper and her little green Elmo bathing suit. I remembered her happily saying "Bye Mommy!" earlier that day and I held her wet bathing suit to my face and cried all over again.

The detective from earlier came over and I figured he wanted to ask more questions. He led my away from the doctors and nurses and said "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but they told me she'll probably be fine." I remember clinging to those words like a life raft in the stormy sea that my life had become. I definitely understand that doctors and nurses have to maintain a professional distance, but I felt like the doctors and nurses in the ER took it to the extreme. I didn't need sympathy, but a little empathy would have been nice. I was actually glad to transfer to another hospital.

When we arrived at the children's hospital, we followed the paramedics in and waited while they got her set up in the PICU. Once she was settled in a room, we were finally able to see her. I approached her bed, which was one of those big metal cribs and I rubbed her arm through the bars. She had tubes and wires connected everywhere and she seemed to be dazed, staring into space. Finally, the pediatrician arrived and evaluated Lily's chest X-ray and examined her vitals. As he finished his assessment, he let us know that the next 24 hours were important in determining Lily's prognosis. Things could go either way because she had a lot of water in her lungs, which can cause infection, complicating the situation.

For the next 24 hours, I refused to leave the hospital. Luckily, the doctors and nurses at the children's hospital were amazing. After about 12 hours, they let me pick her up and hold her in a reclining chair. I held her close to my skin, so that she would know that I was there for her. During this time, Lily was subdued and quiet and we had no idea what damage her accident may have caused. After another 12 hours had passed, they took her from my arms to update her chest X-ray and assess her progress.

While we waited, Mr. Chick held my hand and I cried, praying that the test results would show that she was improving. After a short while, they brought her back and placed her back in my arms, saying that the doctor would be in soon. Their faces gave nothing away, even as I searched for clues. When the doctor finally arrived, the first thing he did was give us a thumbs up. Her condition was improving with no signs of infection in her lungs. She still needed the oxygen that was being pumped up her nose as her lungs cleared, but all indications were that we would be headed home in a day or two. With that, I breathed for the first time in 24 hours.

Given her prognosis, we were given the okay to transfer out of the PICU to the 'regular' hospital floor, where the nurses were just as amazing as the PICU team. Lily would still need to be assessed for brain damage the next day, but just then, the fact that she was going to live was good enough for me. As it turned out, we would have our answer on the brain damage later that day when a nurse rolled a TV/VCR with some Barney videos into the room. As Lily watched, she spoke for the first time since before her accident. "I love you, you love me...." She remembered the Barney song. My baby remembered and could sing along! I had never been so happy to hear that horribly annoying tune. To no one's surprise, she passed her tests the following day with flying colors.

Three days after Lily's near drowning accident, we prepared to take her home from the hospital. We packed up the flowers, balloons and toys that had poured in from family and friends and said goodbye to the doctors and nurses who had cared for our daughter, just like she was their own. As I carried her through the hospital lobby, she looked over and saw the bubbling stream that runs through the center atrium of the hospital and looked back at me. "I go fimming?" she asked. Yes baby, you go swimming.

My precious baby girl was going to be just fine.

At the time of Lily's accident, I did not know how to perform CPR. Lucky for me, my husband was able to use his training to save our daughter's life. As a result of our experience, I quickly got CPR and First Aid certified through my local Red Cross chapter. Parents - please please please get this life saving training...your child's life could depend on it. Visit www.redcross.org to find a class near you.

Random Friday Thoughts

2011-07-01T13:08:00.002-04:00

1) Do you think we've become an inconsiderate society? I do. Example: Today I went to Subway to pick up a quick sandwich for lunch. How much time do you expect to spend in Subway when you're getting a 'To Go' order? Five, maybe ten minutes if they are busy, right? Right. Today I was in Subway for TWENTY FIVE minutes and there was exactly ONE person in front of me in line. This man was the epitome of inconsiderate. First, he ordered three sandwiches with ridiculously complicated instructions for each. Cut that one in half, keep this one whole, toast this one and not that one, put everything on this one and nothing on that one...ridiculous. While he was giving his ridiculous instructions, he then got on his cell phone so he had two conversations going at once, one with the sandwich artist (WHY did they stop calling themselves that?) and one with the cell phone caller. Obviously, this slowed down the entire process even more. As the people behind the counter were trying to make their way through the sandwich order, and he's talking on his cell, issuing orders, etc. he realizes that he knows one of the owners of the Subway and proceeds to start a THIRD conversation with that person, complete with an introduction to the other guy that was standing with him, the whole nine. After this whole exchange, they finally finished making his sandwiches and he proceeded to the register. One would think that this ridiculous transaction was almost over, right? One would think wrong. He made the cashier ring up the three sandwiches as three SEPARATE transactions, then proceeded to argue when they wouldn't give him the $5 footlong price on the sandwich he made them cut in half, which was prepared two different ways. After they relented and gave him the price he wanted, he finally took his damn sandwiches and left. Sometimes people make me want to beat them about the head with blunt objects. That is 25 minutes of my life that I will never get back.

2) Lily amazes me on a daily basis. She is such a free spirited individual who doesn't give a care as to what others think of her. If the crowd goes right, you can bet your ass that Lily is going to go left to see what happens on the road less traveled. She always keeps me guessing and you just never know what she's going to come up with next. I love that about her. I also think that these traits are going to give me gray hair when she's a teenager. Even so, I hope as she gets older she continues to embrace her individuality.

3) This weekend, the girls are going out of town with my mom and won't be home until Monday. This all happened rather unexpectedly as she only called me last night to say she wanted to take them with her on her trip. I packed them up and they shipped out this morning. So, this kid free weekend stretches out in front of us and I have no idea what we're going to do with it. It's kind of nice to not have a plan and see how the weekend unfolds. I'm thinking some nice dinners out, maybe hit the beach for some relaxation...and I'm not sure what else. What would you do with an unexpected kid free weekend?

4) Mr. Chick (who's a detective) was on call last night and got called out for a burglary at 2:00 AM. This is how it usually goes when he's on call...90% of the time the call out comes in the middle of the night. You know, I just can't think of anything worth stealing that's worth being awake at 2:00 in the morning. I get the whole 'cover of darkness' thing but one would think more houses would be burglarized during the day when most people are at work. Actually, now that I think about it, our house was burglarized during the day several years ago and the thieves were caught when a deputy sheriff saw said burglars walking down the street with garbage bags full of our stuff. Also, the burglars knew that a cop lived at our house and still broke in. Criminals really aren't that smart sometimes.

5) On Monday, our nation turns 235 years old. We have no big plans for the 4th because Mr. Chick will be working from 8 AM to 2 AM (yes, that's 18 hours straight), so our holiday will be low key. Actually, it will be closer to no key because the girls won't be back until Monday night so I'll be partying like it's 1776 with me, myself and I. It's a good thing I like me.

Have a safe and happy 4th of July weekend!

Couching the Subject

2011-06-30T07:40:00.006-04:00

Once I decided that the idea of another baby was not just going to go away quietly on it's own, I knew I had no choice but to tell Mr. Chick what I was thinking. Nothing like pondering having another child all in your own head, without letting your husband in on the secret, right?

When I dropped the 'baby' bomb, his initial reaction was about what I expected and included much stammering, stuttering and staring. Then he repeated the words 'no way in hell' and 'you've got to be kidding me' over and over again, which was also expected. I expected this reaction not because I think he's dead set against the idea, but because I've been dead set against the idea for as long as we both can remember. Saying I might want another baby is pretty much the equivalent of me saying I might want to shave my head and move to Zimbabwe to raise goats. When he started randomly giving me the stink eye and shaking his head though, I knew that I had him thinking about the possibility of another baby, too.

The thing is, Mr. Chick likes to pretend like he has absolutely no say in the matter because I make all the decisions around here anyway. Now that might be true, if we were say, buying a couch. I'm on to his tricks, though. He acts that way about decisions so that way when the couch gets here and it's uncomfortable to sit on and doesn't match the curtains he can say 'You were the one that wanted that couch.' A baby, however, doesn't come with a warranty and Scotchguard isn't going to help a damn thing, so there's no way I'm taking all the credit for this one. Not gonna happen.

As of now, we're like a Republican and a Democrat, vacillating between a dead even 50/50 split both for and against, to 60/40 against, 70/30 for, back to an even 50/50...it's never ending. We really need a bi-partisan vote, so in Mr. Chick's pragmatic view, we need to create a list of pros and cons to having another baby. Since I have exactly zero brilliant ideas of my own to move the discussion forward, I've agreed with this plan.

So, next on the list: Make a list. I'm going to suggest we do it while sitting on the couch, which I did pick out all on my own and is awesome thank you very much.

If All Else Fails, Tell the Internet

2011-06-27T17:19:00.004-04:00

I've had this niggling thought in the back of my mind recently. It's like an annoying ear worm of a song that won't go away (Livin' La Vida Loca, anyone? You are welcome, internet) and I've been ignoring it. It's still sitting over there in the corner, staring at me and I think it's getting comfortable. I figured I had to take some sort of action, before it starts leaving wet towels in my bathroom and drinking the last Diet Coke, which is just wrong on so many levels.

So what is this thought, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. You should feel special that I'm going to tell you because I have not told anyone this thought, except for my husband. It would just be wrong to tell the internet this thought before I told him. Not as wrong as drinking the last Diet Coke, but still. Anyway, all of a sudden I'm pondering what it would be like to have another baby. I KNOW. Huge, right?

Clearly, I've been feeling nostalgic recently, as evidenced by this post. That said, I've been absolutely sure for YEARS that we were not having any more babies, ever ever ever. My girls are 12 and 10 and for the most part (the most IMPORTANT parts) self sufficient. Everyone in my house wipes their own ass. Everybody sleeps through the night and feeds and dresses themselves. There are no tantrums, unless Mr. Chick wants to take over the TV to watch something dumb, like UFC fights, when I want to catch up my DVR'd Food Network shows. Which happens ~~pretty regularly~~ almost never. And it's been that way for a very long time.

So, why would I want to change that? Why would I want to go back to a crying baby, sleepless nights, diaper changes, tantrums, watching Playhouse Disney shows constantly, potty training and everything else? I have no idea. But I still kind of want to.

I'll be examining this issue over the course of several posts. Follow along to see what happens...this should be interesting, or educational, or mildly entertaining, or ridiculously frustrating, or possibly all of the above.

Random Friday Thoughts

2011-06-24T11:12:00.007-04:00

1) Earlier this week, I was driving down the road when I noticed a Chrysler Town & Country with a huge sticker covering the entire back window. Now, being a minivan, you could totally expect said sticker to be for something like a daycare or maybe those stickers for each member of the family, all the way down to the dog, cat and hamster. But, no. This huge sticker was for the band Papa Roach, complete with a freaky picture of some guy wearing eyeliner and a studded choker. Papa Roach is a band that sings about bleeding and not giving a f*ck and probably also roaches, or something. Apparently while wearing eyeliner. And chokers. I just had to drive up beside this minivan to see who was driving and it was totally somebody's mom, for sure. I'm all for trying to hang on to the last shreds of my youth, but not so much that I would sticker my minivan with NKOTB stickers or whatever. If I had a minivan, that is. Which I don't.

2) The other day I was walking through Target when I saw this girl at the checkout counter totally rocking a sweater dress, studded ankle boots and also, feathered hair. I really don't understand why we're revisiting 80s fashion. It was not a good look the first time around. I mean, I get nostalgic once in a while too but it doesn't mean I want to throw on some parachute pants (seriously, WTF on those things, anyway) and start carrying around my Cabbage Patch Kids again. Not that I ever wore pink parachute pants or anything. Nope, I didnt.

3) You know what bugs me? When actresses and models talk about how they eat whatever they want and stay skinny. I call BS on the whole 'I just eat what I crave and I manage to stay thin.' Yeah right chick, you must get some wicked cravings for celery sticks and ice water. Oh, and cigarettes.

4) This week, I decided to teach myself to knit because why not just throw one more thing on my To Do list, right? So far, I've knitted and unraveled yards and yards of yarn. I have two problems with my knitting. a) both sides of my knitting look like purl stitches and from what I gather, one side should look like knit stitches and the other side should look like purl stitches and b) I may very well be way to uptight to knit because my stitches are so tight that they're hard to get off the needles. I should have known this actually, because one other time I tried to learn to knit using hard plastic needles and I snapped the needle in half during a particularly aggressive knit stitch. None of this will make any sense if you don't knit but it's irritating me, hence this random knitting thought.

5) Attempted knitting aside, I'm not really very crafty. I suck at taking pictures, which I told you about in last week's Random Friday Thoughts. I also mentioned my non-start at scrapbooking. I can't draw my way out of a paper bag, either. The blogosphere though, is full of a bunch of crafty chicks. You should check out the Etsy shop of Twinkie Tot Mom, or the website of Ninotchka whose artwork is AMAZING or the baking creations of Three Pugs & a Baby. Oh! Also the jewelry of Christina Lee. So awesome. I am in awe of these ladies, and so many others with their crafting and artistic abilities. Maybe I'll get really good at knitting, so I can be crafty too. Perhaps I'll start with these. Stylish, no?

Happy Friday to all!

Getting to Know Me - First Edition

2011-06-22T20:45:00.002-04:00

Because I hate the term 'meme', I'm going to call this a 'Getting to Know Me' post because I refuse to call it a 'meme'. I came across this one at 'Life of a Doctor's Wife' and because I liked the questions, I figured I'd give it a go. So, without further ado, I give you my 'Firsts'.

1) Who was your first prom date?

My first and only prom date was actually my husband (although he wasn't my husband at the time, obviously). It was my junior year and it was his senior prom; we went to different high schools. I remember I couldn't get his boutonniere to stay pinned on so my mom had to do it for me and I thought my dress was the greatest thing ever (it totally was NOT). I think the theme of the prom was "Almost Paradise," maybe? Clearly, I was underwhelmed by the experience because I didn't bother to go to my own senior prom the next year.

2) Who was your first roommate?

I've never had a roommate, unless you count my husband. Have you seen Single White Female? No thanks.

3) What was your first alcoholic beverage?

I distinctly remember my dad giving me sips of his beer on hot summer days. In high school, we'd all throw in a few bucks for a case of disgusting Natural Light and then chug it while playing quarters. Natty Light isn't exactly a sipping beer, if you know what I mean.

4) What was your first job?

In high school, my first job was as a cashier at a pharmacy, which is where I actually met my future husband. We had our first kiss in that store, in aisle 11, next to the greeting cards and under the mylar balloons.

5) What was your first car?

Technically, my first car was a silver Ford Escort, which I got on my 16th birthday. That car, however, was stolen before I even got my driver's license so the closest I ever got to driving it was sitting behind the wheel. It was eventually recovered but the thief had taken it on a joy ride then put it in park with a brick on the gas pedal so the engine was blown. After that, I got a maroon Ford Tempo that had a cracked manifold. It sounded like the engine was falling out whenever you stepped on the gas. It did have automatic seat belts though, so that was pretty sweet. Not really, but whatever.

6) When did you go to your first funeral?

I think I was five when my great grandpa died. I vividly remember the smell of all the flowers and that everyone was taking them home after the wake. I seem to remember getting yelled at by someone when I picked up some pink carnations. Carnations are totally not worth getting yelled at over, by the way.

7) How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown?

I was twenty and I would never live there again.

8) Who was your first grade teacher?

Her name was Mrs. Smith. I remember her as very tall but that could very well be because I was short. The Challenger explosion was when I was in first grade and I remember that Mrs. Smith was a finalist in whatever program it was that eventually chose Christa McAuliffe to be the first teacher in space. Because of that, we were watching the launch in our classroom and when the shuttle exploded Mrs. Smith cried and went home early. My other memory is of this girl Andrea, who was one of a set of identical twins that were both in our class, puking on Mrs. Smith's feet while she read us a story. The only thing she said when puked upon was 'Oh, dear.' I bet she wanted to say "What the f*ck?" That's what I would say.

9) Where did you go on your first airplane ride?

I don't know for sure, but I'm willing to bet that it was Florida. My parents moved from Ohio to Florida when I was four months old. When I was two, they got divorced and my dad stayed in Florida and my mom moved back to Ohio with my brother and I. This one time, when I was four, my mom had to put me on a plane to Florida all by myself. I remember that I wore my favorite dress that was white with yellow flowers and I accidentally locked myself in the airplane bathroom and couldn't get out. Having parents in two different states sucks and to this day, I still hate goodbyes.

10) When you sneaked out of your house for the first time, who was it with?

Hmm, I don't think I ever actually sneaked out of the house. I was more of a skipper of school, once I started driving. There was this one time that I told my mom that I was spending the night at a friend's house and then we drove three hours a way to go to a keg party with some guys we had met while we were on Spring Break in Florida a few weeks earlier. That situation could have turned out really bad as there were some pretty unsavory individuals at that party. I'm still convinced that we were almost assaulted in an alley that we had to pee in because the bathroom in the house where the keg party was held was out of order. We were dumb girls. But also, who throws a keg party with a broken bathroom? People who pee standing up, that's who.

11) Who was your best friend and are you still friends with them?

In first grade, I was best friends with a girl named Sonya that lived right next door. Sonya's family was Lebanese and they were always inviting me to stay for dinner, which I hated. To my six year old self, hummus was pretty much like vomit on a plate. Sonya eventually fell out of my favor when she stole my Lifesavers pencil case, because obviously, RUDE. Her mom made her bring it back and apologize in front of my mom, but alas, our friendship did not survive the incident.

12) Where did you live the first time you moved out of parent's house?

My husband and I (who was still just my boyfriend at the time) moved into an apartment together two weeks before Violet was born. It was the easiest move I ever made because I actually had to work on moving day and since I was hugely pregnant anyway, there wasn't much I could help with. By the time I got home from work that day, everything was in and unpacked and I'm just now realizing that I have no idea who did all of that work. I do remember sitting on my bed and crying because I was nineteen, about to have a baby and I wanted to go home to my mom.

13) Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day?

It's a toss up between my mom and my husband...it depends on the situation.

14) Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid?

It was my cousin's wedding and I was in the 8th grade. We wore these horrible pink satin dresses with puffy sleeves and ruching on the bodice. We also rocked the dyed to match shoes and the piece de resistance was the fact that we each carried ONE fake rose as our 'bouquet'. I remember I walked with a groomsman who had played football with my cousin's husband in college and said groomsman was hoping to get picked up by a team in the upcoming NFL draft. He didn't. Also, my cousin is now divorced. I blame the horrible bridesmaid dresses. That's no way to start a marriage.

15) What is the first thing you do in the morning?

Open my eyes and think "Damn! Morning already?" I have insomnia, what can I say?

16) What was the first concert you attended?

My first concert was Bush, on the Sixteen Stone tour when No Doubt opened for them. I had a huge thing for Gavin Rossdale back then, who is now better known as Mr. Gwen Stefani. It was a good concert though.

17) First tattoo or piercing?

My first piercing was my ears when I was five. I did pierce my tongue when I was 18, but that didn't last long because my mom threatened to kick me out of the house when she saw it. I told her that I was taking it out not because she was kicking me out, but because I didn't like it that much anyway. It was totally because she was kicking me out. I also have two tattoos, a flower on my hip and a tiny ladybug on my foot. The flower I got the day I turned 18 just because I could. I'd like to get them both removed but haven't gotten around to it.

18) First celebrity crush?

I thought Ralph Macchio was the hottest thing going in Karate Kid. I never did write to any of my celebrity crushes. One time, I did write to Whitney Houston and remember that I was offended that she never answered me. Little did I know that she was too busy smoking crack to worry about writing some kid from Ohio.

19) First crush?

In second grade, I had a huge crush on a kid named Chad Becker. I'm not sure why, he was actually pretty funny looking, come to think of it. My first 'boyfriend' was a kid named Nick Dumas, in the fourth grade. We would hold hands under a table during silent reading time.

20) First real love?

My husband. That tends to be the case when you marry your high school sweetheart.

There you have it, internet. I hope you enjoyed this trip down Mother Chick's memory lane.

A Mom Is Always A Mommy

2011-06-20T21:30:00.003-04:00

I've reached the juncture as a parent where I can clearly see the young women my girls are going to become. Really, I should say the young women they are becoming. At almost 13, Violet is as tall as me, wears a women's size 10 shoe and looks about 16. Couple that with the fact that I'm often told that I look younger than I actually am and everyone always thinks we're sisters when we're out together. I'm sure I will appreciate this at some point but now, not so much. At 10, Lily is going through a definite awkward stage but even so, she's starting to care about things like clothes, hair and make up so I know she's not far behind her sister.

It sounds so cliche, but I really do feel like yesterday they were babies and I blinked and now we're here, teetering dangerously close to their teen years. My lap sits empty because my girls, who no matter what are still my babies, have outgrown it. There are no more bedtime stories, no more kissing boo boos to make them all better, no more picking them up in my arms and cuddling them close. I can see that there's a time, in the not too distant future, that they won't need me anymore. At least not in the way that they used to.

Sometimes though, when I least expect it, I catch a glimpse of my babies in my not quite yet young women. Someone hurts themselves and needs me to hold their hand until it feels better, someone says 'I'm scared and I miss you and I don't want to spend the night here, please come pick me up' or someone still wants me to tuck them in and kiss them goodnight. It's at these times that I remember.

A Mom is always a Mommy.

Random Friday Thoughts

2011-06-17T08:14:00.000-04:00

1) It's the first week of summer break here. So far, I've refereed more fights than I can count, picked Lily up from a friend's house at 11:30 PM from an aborted sleepover attempt, washed 237 loads of soggy beach towels and wet bathing suits and tried unsuccessfully to make our dog throw up when he ate a bouncy ball. A homemade bouncy ball, at that. There are 7 more weeks of summer vacation and I'm not sure we're going to make it. I'm going to count my blessings that my kids don't go to school with Phineas and Ferb, who get 104 days of summer vacation. I bet their moms drink, a lot.

2) So, the dog ate a bouncy ball, right? Then, he refused to throw up even though I followed the vet's instructions exactly (10 cc's of hydrogen peroxide down the gullet). I figured that when a foreign object is ingested, eventually it has to come out, one way or another right? Right. For the next couple of days, Violet was on poo watch and would report her findings every time he went out to do his business. The bouncy ball pieces never re-appeared but we did find some ribbon, some tape, a bandaid and pieces of a popsicle stick. Apparently, I have a Shih Tzu that moonlights as a carp. Well that, or he was trying to wrap a present, cut himself and decided to make it better with a bandaid and a popsicle.

3) This week, I was talking to a friend who said that they thought it was weird for people to eat at a restaurant or go see a movie by themselves. As someone who has done both of these things many times, I don't get it. What's wrong with some quality time by yourself? I know I tend to lean a little more on the 'loner' side of things, but I really don't see anything wrong with it. As a matter of fact, I'm probably going to go to the movies with me, myself and I this weekend. I want to see a movie thats in theaters right now that's a confirmed 'chick flick'. I know there's a snowball's chance in hell that Mr. Chick will go with me and all of my friends are busy. So, I'll just go by myself. Is that weird?

4) I'm not a very good photographer. I forget to bring our camera everywhere and if it wasn't for my husband, we'd probably have about 12 total pictures of our children. I just always seem to have better things to do than worry about taking pictures. Not to mention that when I do attempt to take pictures, they're blurry, or too dark, or too far away or too this or too that. Photography = Not My Thing. Given that, it makes total sense that I asked for a really nice and expensive camera for Mother's Day, right? Mr. Chick totally came through and purchased said camera and I think I've taken four or five pictures with it. This reminds me of the time I asked him to get me a scrapbooking kit for my birthday, which then sat on a shelf in a closet for the next five years before I finally decided that maybe I'm not so into the scrapbooking and sent it off to the Goodwill store. Yeah, it's just like that...but a lot more expensive this time. I better figure out how to use that thing.

5) I've mentioned it a few times on Twitter this week, but seriously, I think Jillian Michaels is trying to kill me. And she's doing it slowly, one 30 minute workout at a time. Seriously, people the 30 Day Shred workout is hard and I'm in fairly decent shape as a runner. It is, however, the best 30 minute workout I've ever done and I've done quite a few. If you are looking for a workout program that gives quick results in a short amount of time, RUN to get this DVD. The fact that it only takes about 30 minutes out of your day is a bonus, also. Here's the thing: You're supposed to do the workout every day. I've only done it every other day so far because I swear, my arms would fall off and beat me about the head if I tried to make them do that amount of push ups every single day. I'm going to attempt to do it every day next week and I'll update with my findings. If my arms fall off though, typing is going to be hard.

Have a lovely weekend!

When I Grow Up...

2011-06-15T17:42:00.007-04:00

When I was in the sixth grade, our teacher made us write a list of the things we wanted to accomplish in life. One of the things we had to list was the job that we thought we would have when we grew up. I wrote "I'm going to be a high school model, and then a marine biologist." First, I have no idea what I meant by a 'high school model'. I assume that I thought that I was going to have a successful modeling career from grades 9-12. Right, because those aren't awkward years at all. Apparently, I was kind of dumb in the 6th grade. I did go to high school with a girl that modeled in Japan and then did a short lived stint as eye candy on an MTV game show, all before we graduated. That's about as close to modeling as I got in high school, or ever, now that I think about it. So, 'high school model' never made it to the old resumé. Bummer.

As for the ‘marine biologist’ part of the equation, I totally copied that off of a friend of mine who didn't turn out to be a marine biologist, but did in fact become an archaeologist and now spends her days digging up old stuff in Ecuador. My marine biologist aspirations were over before they even began, as evidenced by the fact that I refused to dissect dead animals (like a fetal pig, ew!) in10th grade Honors Biology and failed that class voluntarily. It’s a good thing I had my modeling career to fall back on, right?

When my high school guidance counselor asked me what I wanted to major in when I went to college, I think I gave her a blank stare and said something along the lines of “Um, beer pong?” So, she made me take one of those aptitude tests that's supposed to match your personality with a career. According to my personality, I should be a flight attendant. Right, because herding people and luggage into a narrow metal tube with wings and serving drinks at 30,000 feets sounds like an awesome career choice. I decided to stick with the beer pong.

When I got to college, I realized that they don’t actually let you major in beer pong. I know, right? I was surprised too. I went ahead and picked the next most reasonable option. Fashion Merchandising. Because LOTS of community college students in Ohio major in fashion, right?Turns out, not so much. In quick succession, I changed said major to Secondary Education (because who wouldn’t want to shape the youth of today? Apparently, me – which is why this major didn’t last long either) and then Nursing (see my Honors Biology story to learn why this didn’t work out - obviously I had not learned much since the 6th grade and was still pretty dumb).

Now, if you do the math on my age versus the age of our oldest daughter, you’ll notice that I actually ended up majoring in ‘Mommy’ in college. Let me tell you, this really put a damper on the beer pong, which was still my unofficial major at the time. It was the one that I managed to stick with the longest. You’ve got to have goals people, am I right?

These days, I’m an executive at a marketing company, so it all worked out in the end. Clearly, I narrowly avoided my fate as a marine biologist/flight attendant/fashion merchandiser/teacher/nurse/beer pong coach. That would have been hard to fit on the diploma, anyway.

Random Friday Thoughts - Annoying Edition

2011-06-10T08:41:00.002-04:00

1) Earlier this week, I was in the checkout line at the grocery store when the cashier scanned my bag of chips and threw the bag toward the bagging section. The thing had a hang time of at least three seconds and there was the definite sound of chip breakage on impact. Now, I could see if the bag of chips was a small part of a large grocery order and she was in a zone scanning multiple items, but nope. The chips were the only thing that I bought. For a minute, I contemplated telling her that she needed to get me a new bag and then decided that was more hassle than I felt like dealing with at the time. Once in the parking lot, I pulled out of my parking spot only to be prevented from leaving by a store associate gathering carts and blocking the entire exit for at least five minutes. WTF? The motto of this grocery store is "Where shopping is a pleasure." I'm contemplating writing to them to suggest they change it to "Where shopping is a pleasure, unless you're in the checkout line or parking lot. Then it kind of sucks." Annoying.

2) If you ever get a craving for key lime pie, get some Fiber One Key Lime Pie Yogurt and some sliced almonds. Mix together and enjoy the deliciousness. If you want to go all out, I suppose you could throw in some graham cracker crumbs and top with whipped cream but that obviously negates some of the 'low calorie' deliciousness. This will kick a key lime pie craving square in the crotch. You are welcome.

3) I recently had to 'unfriend' my oldest friend in the world. This was my best friend from the time we were 8 years old, my partner in crime all the way through elementary, middle and high school, the maid of honor in my wedding. Trust me when I say that cutting her off was justified and while I am absolutely sure that I did the right thing. That said, I keep having dreams where she calls me to apologize for what happened between us. Does that mean that it bothers me to not be her friend anymore or that I still think she owes me an apology? I hadn't even talked to her in over a year before the incident that caused the unfriending, other than random Facebook posts, so I'm voting for the latter. Annoying.

4) I was a champion speller when I was in school. I'm not even kidding. I won the school spelling bee two or three years in a row and went on to the county spelling bee from 4th through 8th grade. All of a sudden, I'm forgetting how to spell words. What is up with that? I blame texting. As I was titling this post the 'Annoying Edition' I started to type 'Annoying Addition' before I caught myself. Also, I'm constantly guilty of run on sentences, until I catch myself and edit. WTF? I blame texting. Also annoying.

5) You know those copy/paste Facebook status posts? "Put this as your status for one hour if you know someone who has died of cancer," etc. I secretly hate those. Yes, I know people who have died of cancer, I have an awesome mom, a fabulous sister, I love my kids, I support our troops, etc etc etc. I just prefer to think my own original thoughts, thanks. Annoying.

What do you find annoying today?

My Non-Shrinking Violet

2011-06-09T19:23:00.001-04:00

Violet has always been my 'shrinking violet'. She is shy, easily intimidated and sensitive beyond belief. Early on in her school days, she was dubbed the 'crybaby' because she cries at the drop of a hat (seriously, she even cries at weddings...what kid do you know that does that? Violet, that's who). I knew that we would have bullying problems because kids can be evil and they will spot your faults and use them against you for shits and giggles, because they are assholes like that.

Not surprisingly, Violet had a few problems at school with some 'mean girls.' Sixth grade is BRUTAL people, and sixth grade girls, lo, they are bitches. At the time, I tried my very best to turn each incident into a learning experience for Violet, when I really wanted to march into that school and ~~smack those girls in their bitch faces~~ give those girls a piece of my mind. Alas, trying to explain to a pre-teen girl that it's not the end of the world to have people make fun of you at school was like trying to get Lily, my younger daughter, to let me brush her hair so she didn't look like she styled it with a fork every day. That is to say, my attempts were futile and I knew we were in for a long haul with middle school.

Nonetheless, I stayed the course every single time and encouraged Violet to stay above the fray. My instructions were simple: try to be friends with everyone and if somebody says something about you, starts a rumor, or just acts like an asshat in general, IGNORE IT because they are looking for a reaction from you. If you don't react, they will get bored and go away. And, if you hear someone talking about someone else behind their back, you should be a friend and stick up for the person getting trashed because you know how that feels.

I could never be sure if my message was getting across until several months later when Violet mentioned that some kids were laughing at one of her friends in the cafeteria that day because she has cancer and has no hair, and it was making her friend cry (I told you, bitches, right??). When I asked Violet what happened after her friend started crying she said "I remembered what you said, Mom. So I went over to those girls and told them that she can't help that she has no hair and that she is way prettier than they are because they're making themselves look ugly by making fun of someone who is sick."

When I recovered from the shock of my Violet asserting herself, she went on. "Then I told them that if they want to make fun of someone, make fun of me instead, because I don't care what they say about me and I can take it. And other than that they should keep their mouths shut and quit being rude to everybody because they just look stupid."

When I asked how the mean girls responded, she said "They didn't say anything else after that, I think they knew I was serious. And my friend felt better after someone stuck up for her, so you were right, Mom. I'm glad I stood up for my friend."

That, my friends, was a proud parenting moment. She's not such a shrinking violet after all.

As A Matter of Fact, I Won't Be Your Neighbor

2011-06-06T21:51:00.008-04:00

In a previous post, I mentioned the fact that we moved in the fairly recent past. What I failed to mention is that we moved from a regular neighborhood to a gated community. For the last few years, I coveted this community. In my head, I had pretty much likened it to a suburban utopia. Look! Big two story houses! Pretty lampposts! Award winning landscaping! A dog park called "Barkley Park," how clever! And look at the resort style community pool complete with a winding waterslide and kids splash zone! Surely this community had to be heaven right here on earth, right? Right.

Shortly after moving in, however, I discovered something about myself. An important something. I am not really a 'gated community' type of person. Apparently, there are a few key rules to follow in order to flourish here in Utopia and I lack these skills because I just don't give enough of a crap about other people's business. Read on though, to discover how you too can become a maven of Gated Community Society. I'm told it's a very prestigious post.

1) You must be nosy and care who's having an affair with who, who got drunk at the Valentine's Day 'Sweetheart Social' (and you should actually want to attend crap called the 'Sweetheart Social') and who hasn't paid their association dues in two years. I don't care about any of that and I also don't care who keeps their garbage cans out at the street for more than 24 hours after trash pick up (scandalous!) or who saw police cars on their street two nights ago (there goes the neighborhood!). Mind your own business, people. Nobody cares. Or maybe that's just me. Whatever.

2) Another responsibility of any good gated community citizen is to guard the front gate with your life. If someone tries to tailgate you in the gate, you should automatically brake check said individual, roll down your car window and accuse them of trying to get in the gate without a code. Even if the person behind you clearly has a resident sticker that opens the damn gate, just like YOU do. This might have happened to me and I might have jumped out of my car in the middle of the street and told the jackass in the Prius to mind his own damn business (although I might have replaced the 'damn' with another word that might begin with the letter F) because as a matter of fact, I do live here, asshole. But, I digress. Never mind the fact that the back gate is open ALL DAY and anyone can get in that gate WHENEVER they want...you should guard the front gate like Fort Knox. The security of the community depends on you!

3) If you're over the age of 65 or so, it's important to operate under the notion that you live in a retirement community when actually, you do not. As such, you should scowl, snipe and yell at all the kids in the community whenever possible because clearly, they are up to no good. Selfish kids, for wanting to use the bike paths, sports courts and parks! Isn't it obvious that their mere existence in these areas encroaches on your enjoyment of the community? Apparently the sign out front that calls this a 'family' community wasn't prominent enough when you were looking for a place to live out your golden years, Mr. and Mrs. Retiree. Too bad for you.

As you can see, being a good Gated Community Citizen is a big responsibility. But, if you follow the few simple rules above, you too can be part of this exclusive club. We have big two story houses! Award winning landscaping! Pretty lampposts! And don't forget the cleverly named dog park and resort style pool with waterslide and splash zone! Move right in! You know you want to.

Let's Try This Again...

2011-06-03T23:25:00.003-04:00

In my defense, in one of my last posts I did say that I was going to be a lazy blogger. Yep, that's me. Recently however, I've found myself thinking more and more about writing again. And, you know that when you're equating your day to day happenings with blog posts, it's time to get off your arse and do something about it.

So, here we go again. Mother Chick Part II.

Life As I Know It

2011-02-23T21:18:00.002-05:00

You know how some people love change? They thrive on not knowing what's going to happen next and roll with the punches. Me? I am not one of these people. In the last 8 months, however, I have:

- Quit my job to become business partners with my mother.

- Decided that although I really love my mom, I don't like being her business partner.

- Got a new job, which involved working from home, in our house that we were already busting out of thanks to the fact that it was our 'starter home' that we bought before the real estate market sank, much like the Titanic. So we...

- Listed our house for sale and moved for the first time in seven years. Two weeks before Christmas. Yes, I am that breathtakingly stupid.

- Then I decided that I really hated the new job. It involved way more travel than I initially agreed to and you can only take so much of people that work for you crying at work EVERY. SINGLE. DAY before you want to poke your eye out with a stick. Fundamentally disagreeing with how the company is run by the owners also presents quite a problem. So I...

- Got a new job and quit the sucky one.

That's a very brief synopsis of 8 months that have been one shitstorm after another, gritty details of which I don't care to revisit. Some of it was indeed self-inflicted, but all of it was painful. Things are most definitely looking up and I believe that everything happened exactly how it was supposed to.

We're all settling in to this new version of normal and the scars of the last 8 months have started to turn from fresh bright pink to pearlescent white. Our house? Still for sale. The new(est) job? Pretty awesome, actually. Change is good. I'm going to keep saying that until I believe it. Change is good! Nope, not there yet...

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

2010-09-14T08:32:00.005-04:00

You know how your life goes along and pretty much looks the same for a really long time; like for years at a time? You live in the same place, you have the same job, your routine stays the same, and so on.

Well, I quit my job in June and it's been one big ball of emotional upheaval around here ever since. I'm definitely not saying that I think I made the wrong decision, but I never realized how much I identified who I was with what I did for a living. I'm sure there are some people who would roll their eyes at that and think "It's just a job, get over yourself" at that statement. While it may be true that a job is just a job, I happen to really like working and to like being really good at my job.

I actually quit to partner with my mom in her business and I now realize that that little plan had disaster written all over it from the very beginning. I love my mother, I do...but it turns out that I don't like being her co-worker. One of our first official business partner-y things was a week long business trip to the Northeast. I'm telling you, you haven't lived until you've driven a roller skate of a rental car through Man-freaking-hattan with your mother in the passenger seat doing her best backseat driver impression. Follow that up with a road trip through Massachusetts, Connecticut, Vermont and New Hampshire and she almost didn't make it back from that business trip. It makes my eye twitch thinking about it now.

Since that didn't work out, I've been doing a little consulting work and trying to do my best impression of a stay at home mom (which is not a good one). The thing is, I'm a fairly social creature, so I need interaction with other people to stay sane. With Violet and Lily at school all day, I find myself alone for most of the day. As such, I now chatter incessantly at Mr. Chick as soon as he walks in the door from work . He's been mostly good about it, but his eyes do start to glaze over when I regale him with tales of organizing the hall closet or my fun trips to the grocery store.

I recently accepted a new job, which I'll start in October. The pay is great, the perks are great, the company is great. The only (really small) drawback is that I'll be working from home, because the company is located about two hours from where I live. I'm sure most people would think this is a pretty sweet set up, I've just never preferred the home office set up. It's not a dealbreaker by any stretch of the imagination, but I still won't be getting any in person human interaction on a regular basis.

Oh well, at least when I pounce on Mr. Chick when he walks in the door from work, I can talk about how I forgot the cover sheet on my TPS Report that day. That's way more interesting than groceries, right?

Well, That Was A Long Break...

2010-09-09T15:26:00.003-04:00

Apparently, I have the attention span of a gnat. That is, if you judge by the fact that I haven't even looked at this here blog in what, six months?

That said, a six month break has given me some perspective on what I really want to get out of blogging. I started this blog to have a little corner of the internet where I could publish whatever I wanted, even if it sucked. I didn't intend to care about how many people read it, how many followers I had, etc.

I found myself, however, quickly getting caught up in all of those things - which resulted in my investing what I felt was way too much time and energy on things that were ultimately unimportant in the grand scheme of my life. I didn't like looking at all things that were happening to see how I could spin them into a blog post.

So, I've decided to reclaim my little corner of the internet, and use it for that which I originally intended. I'm going to post what I want, when I feel like it, and not worry about comments, followers and the like. Here's to being a casual and lazy blogger.

More posts soon...or maybe not.

Random Friday Thoughts, Tuesday Edition

2010-03-02T20:36:00.004-05:00

Since I missed last week's installment of Random Friday Thoughts, I figure why not have a Tuesday edition? Also, I have a lot going on and as a result, can barely string together two coherent sentences, so Random Friday Thoughts on Tuesday it is. But first, rest assured that I made it through the Sleeping Pill Incident unscathed...I don't think I actually took a double dose. Mr. Chick woke me up every hour all night anyway, to make sure I didn't accidentally die in my sleep. That was a fun time. Now for Random Friday Thoughts:

1 - Violet broke her cell phone again, resulting in our second cell phone insurance claim within 6 months. (Side note: If you have kids with cell phones, get the insurance, it is SO worth it.)Anyway, her phone is dead because she dropped it so many times the charging port came loose and now the battery won't charge. Today I went online to file a claim only to find out that they no longer make her cell phone model. Therefore, they're going to replace it with a "comparable model." The "comparable model" is the phone she's been wanting for months. Just where is the lesson in that, I ask you? I'm making her pay the deductible out of her allowance money, but still...gah.

2 - Speaking of cell phones, Lily has been wanting a cell phone ever since Violet got one when she was ten. Lily is lobbying hard for a phone and I have been resistant because I just feel that eight is too young, and she's not responsible enough yet. Now, in some ways she's more responsible than Violet (see #1 for an example). As another example, Lily saves her money like a champ while Violet spends her cash as soon as it hits her hot little hands. Over the summer, she saved up $200 through a combination of allowance, birthday money and doing odd jobs in order to replace her broken Nintendo DS. I refused to buy her a new one after she thought it was a good idea to play with her old one while in the shower. She saved all summer and not only bought a new one, she bought a better one - a Nintendo DSi. I have no idea why that's better but I know it was double the price of the original. Right now, she's $113 saved up and just as I was typing this, she came and asked if she saved enough, could she please buy a phone. Then she proceeded to show me yearbook pictures of everyone in her class that has a cell phone. Am I being too old fashioned? Eight just seems pretty young to me.

3 - Did you hear that Nasa scientists are saying that the recent Chilean earthquake knocked the earth off it's axis, thus making our days shorter? Granted, it's only a couple of milliseconds but when there already aren't enough hours in the day for me to get things done, every millisecond counts.

4 - I can't wait for summer vacation. This week alone I've had to assist with making an ocean habitat in a shoebox, a book report in the form of a clay sculpture and a painted T-shirt for the P.E. Olympics. I get that parents need to be involved in the education of their children, but I'm tired of homework. I'm also tired of the 8:00 PM "Oh wait Mom, I forgot that I need __________________ for school tomorrow." Like last night, when the _________________ was twenty full size Hershey bars and I had to make a last minute run to the store so Lily's class can learn fractions. How is it that I always seem to end up with homework during the school year?

5 - I am really sick of soccer. The girls have been playing soccer non-stop for over two years now. We go from Fall soccer, to All Star soccer, to 3v3 tournament soccer, to middle school soccer, to Spring soccer, back to 3v3 tournament soccer, back to Fall soccer...you get the idea. Mr. Chick has decided to coach Lily's Spring soccer team, which starts in a few weeks. That means in a few weeks both girls will be on TWO soccer teams apiece, and Mr. Chick will be coaching. Good times. I am not just a soccer mom, I am the soccer mom. Kill me now.

6 - I've been a bad blog friend. Do you ever have something going on in your life that is so big, it takes up all of your time and mental energy? Yeah, that's me right now. It's nothing bad and will all turn out well in the end (at least that's what I'm telling myself) and I promise I'll be a better blogger/comment leaver soon. I have a post coming up tomorrow where I expound on Nazi skinheads and Walt Disney World. You're riveted, I know.

I hope you have enjoyed this Tuesday installment of Random Friday Thoughts.

By The Time You Read This...

2010-02-24T20:35:00.003-05:00

I might be dead. Well, kidding...but if I'm not dead, I will at least be dead to the world for a while. You see, I'm not the best sleeper in the world and I can't ever fall asleep on my own at a reasonable hour. As such, I sometimes take an over the counter sleep med (at the direction of my doctor) to help me fall sleep. I also have a ridiculous tolerance for certain types of medication, which means that the regular dosage never works for me. So, I always take double the amount on the label (again, at the direction of my doctor).

Now, this doesn't usually present a problem unless you forget that you already took the medicine and then take a second dose. The best part is that I'm not actually sure if I did take it twice. I might have, but it's really anybody's guess at this point. Yes, I am that dumb. Mr. Chick has officially declared me an idiot and keeps taking my pulse to make sure I haven't died without realizing it.

Seriously, I'm not really sure how I don't fall down more. I better go lie down before I hurt myself.

Well, Now I'm Just Phoning It In...

2010-02-23T13:52:00.007-05:00

because I received another award. I haven't even had my gown from the last ceremony drycleaned yet and here we are again! The lovely EllaBellaMozzarella and Thirty: Owning Up To Being Grown Up (love that blog title!) gifted me with this:

So, thank you ladies and also, thanks to the little people everywhere.

Now, I know this award has rules and I'm supposed to pass it on and link all over the place etcetera, but since I admitted that I'm a stingy rebel when I got the Sunshine Award, I will now confess that I am also lazy. As such, in lieu of following the rules, I'm gifting this award to anyone that lands here that has never been given an award for their blog. Anyone who has the nerve to spew their guts on the internet is a Beautiful Blogger in my book.

It's a Major Award!

2010-02-22T14:18:00.007-05:00

Well, maybe not, but I'm kind of excited about it! I was gifted with the lovely Sunshine Award by Three Pugs & A Baby.

I confess that I'm not really that familiar with these awards, so I'll do my best to not screw this up.

The first rule of the sunshine award is to put the logo in a post on my blog and link back to the blogger who gave it to me. So, check.

Next, I'm supposed to bestow the award on other deserving bloggers and link to them on my blog. So, without further ado, I give you:

Ladies, I salute you and send you some sunshine.

I'm probably supposed to include more than six people, but I'm a rebel and also stingy. And, I sincerely hope I did this post right because I seriously had to look back at Three Pugs & a Baby like 20 times for the instructions. Yes girls, I am that much of a loser. My apologies to the board of directors of the Sunshine Award for any unintended recipient faux pas.

Look, I Wrote Something Important!

2010-02-20T08:28:00.003-05:00

Apparently, I totally missed the fact that an article I wrote was featured at the lovely and fabulous Lady Bloggers Society yesterday. Here it is. Quick, go read it!

Random Friday Thoughts

2010-02-19T14:17:00.009-05:00

1 - The other night, Lily and I were hanging out in a Chinese takeout place waiting for our food. After we'd been waiting a few minutes, a fairly unassuming guy walked in and sat down at a table right behind us. Apparently I looked like I was in a talkative mood, because he immediately started chatting me up. He was slurring his words pretty badly, so I looked back and realized that he was totally wasted out of his mind. He started slurring to me about his newborn preemie daughter and when I looked back to ask him her name, he was chugging from a tiny bottle of Jaegermeister. Nice. The daughter's name? Star Destiny. I'm pretty sure he picked that name after one too many shots of Jaeger, but that's just a guess. I mumbled something like "Oh, that's nice" while the bitch in my head thought "Well, she's all set for a career in the pornographic arts." Poor kid.

2 - Who saw the Men's Figure Skating final on the Olympcs last night? If you didn't, Evan Lysacek totally rocked the house and won the gold medal. Today, silver medalist Yevgeny Plushenko is talking trash about Lysacek, saying he shouldn't have won because he didn't do any quadruple jumps. Whatever douchebag, you lost, suck it up and quit being a crybaby. Also, cram it in your cramhole.

3 - Speaking of Evan Lysacek, on the final spin of his excellent performance, one section of his hair broke free from his gel helmet and was sticking up all Ed Grimley like. It was a long spin too. I just kept thinking that the poor guy is going to have to witness his bad hair moment every time he wants to relive his triumph. Of course, then he'll remember that assbag Yevgeny Plushenko still rocks a mullet, so nobody's having as bad a hair day as he does Every. Single. Day. And then he'll look at his sweet gold medal and feel even better. And then he'll get into his Ferrari that he bought with all of his piles of endorsement cash and he'll feel even better still.

4 - This morning as I was getting ready for work, I was watching the local news and saw a story about a driver that ran their SUV right into a house last night. The house is vacant, so thankfully nobody was hurt. The driver was nowhere to be found when the police arrived and I'm thinking it's a good possibility that the driver was drunk. Drunk people always seem to walk away uninjured from accidents like this, they are surprisingly bendy. Well, here's the thing stupid and possibly drunk SUV driver! They have these newfangled things called license plates which can lead the police right to you! I know, crazy right? I never would have thought of that either! Too bad for you, dumbass.

5 - This weekend promises to be a nice mix of activity and relaxation for Casa de Chick. Tonight, Violet is going to a school dance and I'm going to try to not remember the things I did at school dances. Tomorrow, I'm running in a 5K race to celebrate Thomas Edison and the invention of the light bulb, because hey, why the heck not? I'm hoping my wonky knee holds out. Sunday is brunch with some family that's visiting from up north. Hmm, maybe I won't be relaxing quite as much as I thought. What are you doing this weekend? While you're at it, celebrate some light bulbs. All the cool kids are doing it.

Angst Schmangst

2010-02-18T21:58:00.003-05:00

Violet is killing me with the angsty hormonal tween act. Everything and I do mean everything becomes a huge ordeal with her that can only be remedied by dissolving into tears and informing everyone within earshot that her life, it is terrible. Apparently, we are affronting her very being by even daring to breathe in her general direction.

Remember when I said we were going to have a family day last Sunday? We decided to be spontaneous and as a last minute surprise, took the girls to Busch freakin' Gardens. You would think that it would be impossible for a kid to have a shitty time at a theme park. Well, you would be wrong. Violet spent the day arguing with everybody, then sighing and rolling her eyes about the injustice of it all. Parenting would be a lot more satisfying if when your kids are acting like an ass, it was considered acceptable to turn to them and say "You're acting like an ass."

It doesn't help that my own mother just laughs knowingly when she witnesses Violet's angsty antics. She loves to remind me that I hated her between the ages of 12 and 18. When I was 16, my mom took me on a trip to Jamaica. Asshole teenager that I was, I remember that I wanted to be anywhere in the world but in Jamaica with my mother. So I spent the next seven days acting like a total asshat.

I also remember that when we got back from Jamaica, my mom was so horrified by my unappreciative behavior that she made me see a family counselor with her. The counselor listened to her story about the Jamaica trip and declared me to be a normal teenager. Then he asked my mom to make another appointment so the two of them could talk through some of her "issues." I drove my own mother crazy.

Oh karma, you're such a bitch.

It's a Sickness, Really

2010-02-15T16:28:00.013-05:00

I seriously despise clutter. I know that there are those that love "stuff" and feel soothed by having everything they've ever owned within an arm's reach. I am not one of those people. When I cleaned out our garage last summer, the sum total of my 31 years fit neatly into one smallish sized Rubbermaid bin. (My husband on the other hand, required two large sized bins and that's only because that's all I would allow. We actually got into a fight over his old high school wrestling singlet. Like he was ever again going to squeeze into the damn thing and put someone in a full nelson, but I digress.)

Anyway, as evidence of my distaste for all things clutterous, I give you the barren landscape of my kitchen counters:

As you can see, there are only two things that live on my countertop. One (the knife block) is utilitarian, because I actually need to use knives now and again. The other (an antique wooden box with drawers) belonged to my mother-in-law, an avid collector of ~~old stuff~~ antiques. She passed away five years ago this past January, and it's nice to have a few things around the house to remember her by (although we shall never make mention of the old chamber pot that we also inherited, which looked lovely in her living room, but lives in a closet here at our house).

Anyway, back to my clutter diversion. When we put our house on the market last year, it took me exactly five minutes to "stage" our home for showings and said "staging" involved getting rid of some refrigerator magnets and putting away a couple old old family photos. I've been known to "accidentally" get rid of things around the house that people were "still using", like the time I threw out my husband's school report card collection. He was none to pleased, but did he really need to have a written record of the fact that he won the Good Citizenship award in second grade? He would surely disagree but I, on the otherhand, think not. I'm also one of those annoying people that's picking your glass up and putting it in the sink while you're still drinking out of it.

The one exception to my fervent desire to make our home a confirmed NO CLUTTER zone is this:

Just what is that, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. That is every spare electrical cord, adapter, charger, etcetera that has ever made it's way past my doorstep. The bin contains not one, not two, but THREE telephones (two cordless, one old school Conair phone), an old video camera and every other electrical cord and charger known to man. I really don't know why I can't get rid of them, but I just can't. Look, I know it's crazy. I know, okay - you don't have to laugh like that.

But, consider this, my friends. What if one day someone...let's say, Brad Pitt (this is will be after he kicks that skanky hobag Angelina to the curb, of course) comes knocking on my door and he is in desperate need of a charger for his circa 1996 Motorola flip phone? I'll totally be the one laughing then you guys, I just know it.

Apparently, I'm a Joiner...

2010-02-12T22:46:00.004-05:00

The other day, I joined this group:

Usually, I'm not much for joining things. I do enjoy, however, a good grassroots efforts as much as the next girl. The purpose of the Lady Bloggers Society is to give women bloggers a place to network, share ideas and support each other. I'm excited to see this new group grow and take shape. Go check out their new page and if you're so inclined, join the ranks of the best new group in the blogosphere.

Random Friday Thoughts

2010-02-12T16:20:00.004-05:00

1 - You know, it really is amazing that any of us outlive childhood. Kids do some stupid stuff. I had a friend when I was a kid who had a big scar on her hand from where she got burned playing "Mr. Fix It" with a bobby pin and a light socket. I myself have a wicked scar under my chin from where I was riding my bike with no hands and when I inevitably biffed it and fell off, I decided to catch my fall with my chin. And just this week I caught Lily trying to open a tin can with a knife. But wait. That's not even the best part. The best part is that she was trying to open a tin can with a knife while standing on a soccer ball. Yep, that's my kid.

2 - We recently celebrated Groundhog Day, which is probably one of the more useless holidays in a calendar year. Seriously, what moron thought it was a good idea to pull a fat mouse out of a hole to predict the weather? Mr. Chick was telling me the other day that he was watching a news story the other day about Punxsatawney Phil, the famous groundhog from Punxsatawney, PA . Apparently, fans of Phil believed that it's been the same exact groundhog that has been predicting the weather for 120+ years. Riiiigght. Anyway, the news story was about how fans of Phil had been let in on the little secret that there have actually been a plethora of Phils, and he was not in fact, original. And the Phil fans were pissed. Why this story was remotely newsworthy is beyond me, but whatever people, go cry to the Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus.

3 - When hubs and I were in Los Angeles a few months ago, I noticed that there are a ton of restaurants and stores with the word "Bar" in the title. Not like "Bar & Grill" but just plain old "Bar" - like that was supposed to be more upscale or something. In the three days we were there, we ate at a Bread Bar and a Sushi Bar and shopped at Beauty Bar. I'm convinced I could move to LA, open a restaurant named "Crap Bar" and make a ton of money.

4 - I took the day off work today and went to the movies all by myself. People, it was glorious. Nobody needed me to take them to the bathroom, nobody needed one last thing from the snack bar, there was no arguing over who sat where. I just sat and watched the movie and when it was over, I got up and left. Hubs thinks it's strange when I go to the movies alone. I say it was one of the best days I've had in a while. I saw Dear John which I thought was pretty good, and hits the spot nicely if you're in the mood for a good chick flick. If you've never gone to the movies alone, try it, it's nice.

5 - I am officially declaring this Sunday Family Fun Day and when it's Family Fun Day, participation by all members of our nuclear family is required. The girls still get excited about these days, but I'm well aware that we are fast approaching a time when I will be met with sighs and eyerolls when I suggest a day of family togetherness. For now, I'll enjoy it while I can. Previous Family Fun Days have included theme parks, mini golf, the beach, etc. Since the weather this Sunday is supposed to be rainy, I need an indoor activity. I already know that I'm going to make a chocolate fondue, which I'm totally stealing from Tina of Florida Girl Meets the Midwest. But that won't fill an entire day. If you could have a Family Fun Day, what would you do?

Lovely weekend wishes to all!

The Case of The Three-Legged Bunny

2010-02-10T20:45:00.010-05:00

As I was going through Lily's school papers today, I came across this:

Unfortunately, Lily was still at school when I discovered the little masterpiece, so I had to wait all day to ask her about it. I couldn't even begin to fathom what the assignment had actually been. The drawing sat on my kitchen counter all day and by the time school let out, I was dying to know just what in the hell it is they're teaching my kid over at that school that would warrant a bunny homicide.

When I asked Lily what kind of assignment it was that produced the little gem of a sketch, she said that her teacher told the class to draw something that was "on it's last legs." This actually makes sense to me, as her class is spending a lot of time this year learning different expressions and sayings, like "on it's last legs" and "frog in your throat" and "piss like a racehorse." Well, maybe they're not really learning that last one. That's just my personal favorite.

Now, I love that she felt compelled to make sure that everyone that looks at this drawing realizes that they are in fact looking at not just a bunny, but a dead bunny. The words "Dead Bunny" scrawled next to the carcass pretty much give that away. And props for also making sure we know the bunny is bleeding by noting "That's blood" at the bottom. Heaven forbid we confuse the blood for some other bunny body fluids. Points off though, for not actually following the assignment, as this poor bunny clearly saw its last leg quite some time ago.

When I inquired as to why the dead bunny had just three legs, Lily said that when her teacher gave the assigment, she actually thought she said to draw something "without it's last leg." Hence, we got a three-legged bunny. Once she realized that the bunny was supposed to be "on it's last leg" she went ahead and killed the pathetic little guy.

That means the killer was Lily, in the classroom, with a pencil. Mystery solved.

Where the Hell is My Stress Ball?

2010-02-08T23:18:00.009-05:00

Due to various recent events, I've been dealing with my fair share of stress as of late. I'm a pretty intense person, and when I get stressed, I get bitchy. The other day, Mr. Chick did something that pissed me off and I actually envisaged putting him in a headlock. I've also developed a new habit of calling every other driver on the road who irritates me a fucking fuckbag fuckstick (I'm nothing if not eloquent, no?). As charming as all of these lovely habits are, I figured that maybe it's time to try some stress relief techniques.

The first problem there is that I don't actually know any stress relief techniques. So of course, I decided to do what any self-respecting blogger/social media maven would do. I Googled it. Many of the "techniques" I found seemed to be things that would be fairly simple to do...unless you're me.

Here's a run-down of some of the stress relieving tips I came across in my research:

1 - Breathing exercises: Well, hmm. I'm probably the only person in the world to ever totally fail Lamaze class. When I was pregnant with Violet, I waddled in to class with my pillow and laid around with the other beached whales, but absolutely refused to do the patented "hee hee hoo" breathing. (It was kind of like the time I failed Biology because I refused to dissect a fetal pig because ew, that's just gross.) Actually, Violet was born three weeks early so I never actually finished the class. I guess that makes me more of a Lamaze drop out. Then, thanks to five months of bed rest while pregnant with Lily, I again found myself in labor (without any drugs or epidurals thankyouverymuch), with nary a breathing skill to be found. So, I came up with my own system of breathing that involved breathing in and blowing out fast and long. This plan resulted in my face going totally numb so yeah, that was a fun time. Clearly, I won't be taking up the breathing exercises any time soon. Next!

2 - Play with a pet: You guys. My dog is the LAZIEST dog in America, and possibly the world. Her hobbies consist of lounging on her bed, lounging on the the couch and if she's feeling up to it, lounging on the chair. One time I got all ambitious and took her for a walk and about 1/4 mile into the "walk" she laid down in the middle of the street and refused to go any further. I had to pick the little jerk up and carry her home. Not long ago, she ate a chicken wing bone and when we Googled to find a list of bad symptoms we should look for, it said to call the vet if the dog becomes listless and lethargic. Mr. Chick and I just looked at each other and laughed since she spends her entire life both listless and lethargic. (Well, not unless you count the times when she humps her boyfriend Clifford, a stuffed big red dog that's as big as she is. She thinks he is H-A-W-T.) Anyway, this dog does not "play". Next!

3 - Yoga: The other day, my mom gave me a 20 minute stress relief yoga video. I've never really been much of a yoga fan, but I decided to give it a whirl anyway. I then spent the next twenty minutes trying like hell to rub out the charley horse that I got as a result of a stupid downward dog, which doesn't look anything like a dog. I'm thinking the only way that damn video is going to provide any stress relief is if it includes vodka shots during the cool down. Next!

4 - Crying: Several of the sites I found had entire sections devoted to the cleansing qualities of a good cry. Whatever, I don't cry for fun. Next!

5 - Stress relief games: I came across this site, http://www.businessballs.com/ (Dear Businessballs.com: Your name is stupid. Love, Mother Chick) that one would think has something to do with making or selling balls. But nope, they don't. They publish a stress relief website. Anyway, one section of their site is devoted to a "stress relieving" computer game. The object of said game is to shoot happy faces with a paintball gun. This might not seem so bad until you really think about it. First of all, why does a stress relief game involve any kind of weapon, let alone a gun? And why is the game set in an office building, where guns clearly do not belong like, ever? The best part is that when you inevitably lose because the game itself sucks ass and the happy faces disappear before you can aim at them, a message pops up that says "Oh dear, you didn't shoot well enough for the next round!" Man, I love a good old passive aggressive stress reliever, especially when it basically calls me a loser at the end. Next!

Feel free though, to use any of these ~~totally shitty~~ super helpful tips the next time you feel compelled to put someone in a headlock or call them a fucking fuckbag fuckstick. I've resorted to making frequent visits to my happy place, which is on my couch with a glass of wine. But only when I can get the dog to move, of course.

You Like Me, You Really Like Me...

2010-02-08T10:49:00.002-05:00

So, wow. I am pretty terrible at accepting compliments and praise so I will do my best here and hope that I don't come off sounding like a total doucheface. I am beyond humbled that the lovely Lee of Triple H fame thought enough of my little corner of the internet to actually link to me in one of her posts. If you're visiting from Lee, welcome! And to the whole ten of you who were already coming here regularly, thank you thank you thank you to you too.

My mom asked me not too long ago why I blog and tweet to which I replied "I'll have you know that TENS of people follow me on the internet and are interested in what I have to say!" Alas, she was not impressed. Just wait until I tell her though, that now (thanks to Lee), TWENTIES of people are following me on the internet.

I write things here for no other reason than 1) I like to write and 2) I crack myself up on a pretty regular basis. To see that others actually think I'm kind of funny too is mind boggling to me. To actually have people say I'm a pretty good writer just leaves me speechless.

Lee, thank you for thinking enough of me to send your readers my way. I will certainly follow your lead and pay it forward if I'm ever so big a rock star as you, my dear.

Random Friday Thoughts

2010-01-29T15:47:00.001-05:00

1 – Yesterday, as I was pulling out of the parking lot of my office building, I noticed that the car in front of me had a vanity license plate. It said “Sweti” which I think was supposed to mean “Sweetie” but really ends up looking like “Sweaty.” Methinks the driver of said car didn’t necessarily think that idea through quite enough.

2 – My knee makes this really gross crinkle crackle noise when I bend it. It’s done that for a really long time, like over a year, but is only just now starting to hurt. Everyone that’s heard it seems to think I need to go to the doctor. I think I’ll take some flaxseed oil and glucosamine and see what’s what. I probably shouldn’t start training for that half marathon I want to run either. It’s only one little knee, right? I have another one!

3 – Violet is quickly becoming the most argumentative member of our household. I swear, I could say “The sky is blue” and she would argue with me about how wrong I am. This is very annoying to someone like me who clearly knows everything about everything. She’s also starting to act all angsty all the time, which is also fun. I do not really like this age, I must say. Nope, not at all.

4 – I am now annoyed because Mr. Chick just called me and is going to be working late tonight executing a search warrant, when we are supposed to be out buying a grill. This might not seem like a big deal, but we are hosting a cookout tomorrow and I threw our old grill away yesterday. Stupid criminals are cramping my style. Quit stealing and get a job, jeez.

5 – I got an email from Lily’s teacher today. Apparently, there is a head lice outbreak in the 3rd grade. A head lice check is an excellent way to start the weekend. I’m looking forward to it immensely. I’m choosing to look on the bright side and be happy that at least there's no soccer tournament this weekend.

Lovely weekend wishes to all!

It's All Fun and Games Until Mother Chick Rips Your Head Off

2010-01-28T21:52:00.002-05:00

Seriously, what is with kids today? Violet called me at work today and was in tears at the after school program. A boy was hitting and pushing her AND calling her a bitch. WTF?

After I popped a vein in my eyeball from the rage, I tore ass out of work and was at school in less than 1o minutes. Luckily, I was wearing my chunky heeled bitch boots, so the counselors could hear me marching up to the school from at least a mile away. It was quite the entrance. I actually felt a little sorry for the counselor when I walked in because she looked pretty scared. Not sorry enough to spare her my wrath though, because there were several problems with today's incident:

1 - Violet called us from her cell phone to report what was going on. In my opinion, a counselor or program director should have called to speak to me. They never did and that's not cool.

2 - Apparently this boy had been pushing and hitting not just Violet but several other kids, several times over the course of several hours. When I asked Violet where the counselors were, she said they were busy playing football. I get that part of their job is to play with the kids, but they are also supposed to supervise them to make sure these kinds of things don't happen, or to stop them quickly when they do.

3 - When I questioned the counselors on what happened, they had no idea that he had actually hit and pushed Violet. Because they didn't realize that he had actual put his hands on my child (because he clearly wants me to remove his eyeballs through his nostrils), they didn't suspend him from the program and send him home. So, they didn't see what happened because they weren't watching, then they didn't research thoroughly enough to get a clear understanding of what actually occurred. As a result, I had to take my kid home to remove her from the situation. What's wrong with that picture?

I definitely have some follow up work to do here, and I will. Part of me wonders if I did the right thing by taking Violet home, because she needs to learn to deal with some of this stuff on her own. I really don't think this was one of those times, though. I wanted her to feel supported and safe and to know that if she is in a situation where she feels threatened, I will do everything in my power to help her. And that it is never okay for someone to treat her like that.

Violet did tell me later that she said to the boy when he hit her "Are your parents proud of you when you act like that?" To which I said, "That was a really good thing to say." while thinking "Next time though, punch him in the mouth."

Doing My Part for Global Diplomacy

2010-01-26T19:15:00.007-05:00

The company that I work for is actually pretty big. As in global. In my office alone, we have a fairly large contingent of Ukrainian computer programmers and let me tell you, you have not lived until you've listened to two Ukrainian men argue in Slavic over who forgot to refill the coffeepot after pouring the last cup. Those Ukrainians, they love their coffee fiercely.

Anyway, we sometimes have visitors to our office from our other locations around the world. Today a visitor from one of our Chinese offices, whom we'll call Lisa (did you know that the Chinese all adopt American sounding names for business purposes because they are easier to pronounce? I think this is kind of sad, actually), arrived for a month-long project. Having been pre-selected as the office ambassador prior to Lisa's arrival, the tasks of showing her around the office and taking her out to dinner after work fell to me.

Early in the day, I did some last minute research on Chinese culture to ensure that I didn't do anything to inadvertently offend her. Number one on the list of "Don't Do This To A Chinese Person" was touching. Apparently, the Chinese dislike being touched by strangers. Chinese people and I have that in common, actually. Interestingly enough, when Lisa arrived, the first thing she did was hug me.

My research also said the Chinese don't like to use the word no. If you ask a question they will respond with "Maybe" even if the answer is really no. My research instructed me to do the same, so as not to appear rude. At one point, Lisa asked me if the bathroom was "that way" and pointed in the wrong direction. When I said "Maybe" and pointed the other way, she looked at me like I was maybe smoking a little of the crack.

At dinner, Lisa asked me what I like to do for fun. When I mentioned my daughters and their various extracurricular activities, she said "Oh, you don't look old enough to have a baby, even if you have at age twenty. I am twenty six and have no babies." This is when I remembered that my research also said that I should be prepared to answer personal questions that I might think are inappropriate, and to be vague but polite.

When Lisa asked, "You will have more babies, yes?" I thought to myself "Hell to the no" but instead just laughed and and answered "I don't know...maybe?"

On Comments

2010-01-25T20:45:00.003-05:00

There was an interesting discussion on Studio Thirty Plus the other day on blog comments. The question posed was about whether or not you, as a blogger, respond to comments and if so, how? Do you reply back in the comment thread? Email back? Something else?

I found it interesting that some people said they respond to comments within the actual comment thread itself. I've never thought to do this. I guess it's because of how I visit and comment on blogs. I leave comments but don't actually go back to check and see if they were responded to. I suppose I automatically assumed others operated this same way. Now I'm wondering if I've been doing it wrong.

Once upon a time, I had a different blog for two plus years, and received my fair share of comments on it. At the time, I read a lot of blogs and commented on a few fairly regularly. This was before blogging became hugely ridiculously popular, so there really wasn't a Comment Code of Ethics. Also, I was probably just a selfish whorebag who thought everything I had to say was beyond interesting, so of course the masses would read and respond.

These days, if someone is kind enough to visit and leave a comment here, I return the favor by visiting and commenting on their blog. I actually like this method, because I find a lot of great blogs this way. Of course, I also comment on other blogs too, if I have something to say. If I read a blog and don't comment, most likely I have nothing interesting to say that day. But if it's a blog I read regularly, I'll most likely comment at some point.

Others still said they reply to comments directly via email. I've actually experienced this recently. I've read Cecily at Uppercase Woman for years, but also hadn't commented in many years. Cecily has what I consider to be a huge audience and yet, I've commented on her blog twice in the last couple of weeks and both times, she responded back to me directly, via email. It was almost like getting an email from the President. Or maybe the First Lady. Or Whitney Houston. Oh wait, that bitch never writes anyone back (Check out my 100 things list if you are dying to figure out what I mean by that, #79 to be exact).

Anyway, I thought it was pretty classy for someone with such a wide readership to take the time to respond individually. Nonetheless, I'll probably keep on keeping on just as I have been, but I'm interested in the thoughts of others on this subject (all 9 of you who read this thing, anyway).

So, if you have a blog, how do you handle comments? Do you appreciate reciprocal comments or individual responses to the comments you leave? Along the same lines, if you read blogs and don't comment, why is that?

Random Friday Thoughts

2010-01-22T16:27:00.002-05:00

1. People constantly amaze me with their aptitude for laziness. Example: The elevators in my office building break ALL. THE. TIME. The last time one broke down, it actually fell a couple of floors with someone inside. Luckily they weren't hurt, but the fire department had to come, there was a crowd gathered, it was all very dramatic. The elevators were out of commission completely for several days after that and I decided that since I rather like being an able-bodied individual, I'd be just fine taking the stairs every day. Our building is only five floors, so this it totally doable. I've heard tell that since the "incident" the elevators make a terrible clicking noise and shudder and hesitate when reaching a floor. I find it fascinating that some people still voluntarily board the Elevators 'O Certain Death on a daily basis. When I walked past the elevator bank this morning, some guy was holding the door for me. 'You sure?' he asked, when I said I was taking the stairs. Yep, I'm sure.

2. I've felt all day like I have a sneeze stuck that won't come out. Except, I've sneezed about a thousand times and I still have the stuck sneezeness going on. Is annoying, in case you were wondering.

3. Violet is going out of town with a friend tonight, for the first time ever, for THREE WHOLE NIGHTS. I'm a little freaked out. May need to drink heavily this weekend. Not that that's out of the ordinary or anything.

4. Serioulsy, what is with people? One of my employees resigned and today was her last day. So of course, she left at lunch time to get a sandwich and never came back. It must have been a really good sandwich. Loser.

5. Why am I again not looking forward to this weekend? Oh, that's right. Another all weekend soccer tournament. For the second weekend in a row. Excellent.

Lovely weekend wishes to all!

She Is Definitely Her Mother's Daughter

2010-01-20T20:44:00.010-05:00

Oh, Lily. That kid kills me. She has such a spirit and I love that but man, she tries me sometimes.

Example:

Scene: Lily has just done something mean to Violet for the 100th time.

Mother Chick: "Hey! Go to your room."

Lily: "I wanted to go there anyway, see you later." Happily skips off to bedroom.

(END SCENE)

OR

Scene: Lily has just done something mean to Violet for the 1000th time.

Mother Chick: "Hey! Give me your DS for that."

Lily: "Here, I was done playing anyway." Hands over DS without batting an eye.

(END SCENE)

See what I mean?

What's that saying? What doesn't kill me makes me stronger? I think it's more like "What doesn't kill me still makes we want to drink a lot of wine."

Yep, that's definitely it.

Random Friday Thoughts

2010-01-15T14:59:00.003-05:00

1. Does it make me a bad person because I’m secretly (well, maybe not that secretly) happy that Violet made first cuts for the school soccer team and Ringleader from the infamous Mean Girl Incident did not? Granted, I don’t really care if it makes me a bad person as it’s simple, really. Mess with my kid, and I will want to rip your face off. I won’t actually rip your face off, but I will be happy that karma is in fact, a beyotch (like Ringleader!), and you got what you deserve. Which in this case, I am. Happy, that is.

2. Why is Smart Food White Cheddar popcorn so darn tasty? Mmm, popcorn…nom nom nom.

3. Why do my dog’s feet always smell like Fritos? Not that I sniff her feet on a regular basis, but she’s jabbed a paw in my face a time or two when she would like some attention (yes, she’s a spoiled brat) and it never fails, Eau de Frito-Lay.

4. I wonder if it’s a bad thing that on January 15th, I’m drinking a can of Diet Coke that’s advertising Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios. Stupid vending machine guy and his stupid old soda. Can you get old soda poisoning? I guess we’ll find out, because I didn’t notice until the can was empty. If you don’t hear from me after this, it’s because I died of old soda poisoning. At least there is now record of it on the internets, so my family can file a big lawsuit. I feel faint…

5. How is it possible to not be that glad that it’s the weekend? Oh, right, an all weekend soccer tournament will do it every time. Games start at 6:00 PM tonight all the way through Sunday. Good times.

Lovely weekend wishes to all!

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

2010-01-13T22:04:00.006-05:00

I'm not what you would call a neighborly person. I know the names of the neighbors on either side of my house, and I'll wave if I see you outside, but that's pretty much the beginning and end of any effort I make. I'm not unfriendly, I just don't go out of my way to befriend people based on their proximity to my abode.

My husband is much better at the whole neighbor thing than I am. He'll come inside and say random things like "Bill and Cheryl are going on vacation next week," to which I'll reply "Who the hell are Bill and Cheryl?" and he'll remind me that "Hello! Bill and Cheryl live in the house directly behind ours." And I'll promptly forget because I don't really care, until the next time he cares to share tidbits on The Life and Times of Bill and Cheryl.

I have this one neighbor though, that I see quite often. We'll call this neighbor Mr. Little, because he stands about 5 1/2 feet tall and probably weighs 100 lbs soaking wet. He is a lithesome slip of a man. Wow, there are eight words I never thought I'd string together in a sentence, but I digress. Mr. Little is the neighbor I see most often because he is ALWAYS outside. He works in his yard and cuts his grass, Every. Single. Day. Even in the winter.

He also has a really nice swimming pool that's actually more of a water feature. I say this because I've never seen anyone actually swim in said pool. Or float. Or doggy paddle. Or backstroke. Nothing. Ever. I really can't say why I find this so strange. For some reason, I find the need to randomly mention the fact that nobody ever swims in his pool to visitors to my house. It can make for pretty weird conversation. Example:

Random Guest: "Thanks for inviting us for dinner, it was really good."

Mother Chick: "You're welcome. Also, did you know my neighbor never swims in his pool? Isn't that weird?"

Anyway, moving on! Every time I see Mr. Little outside, he has on the the exact same outfit: A black and white flannel shirt, black jeans and black shoes with velcro straps. I sometimes wonder if he has the same outfit hanging on every hanger in his closet. He even wears this outfit in the summer, when the average temperature hovers in the high 90's with 100% humidity.

Recently though, I somehow found out that Mr. Little is a former Mr. Universe bodybuilder. Now, I really don't see how that's possible based on the Mr. Little I see every day. Mr. Little is short and tiny, he is twee! Remember, 5 1/2 feet tall and 100 lbs soaking wet! Not that he'd know anything about being soaking wet, since he never swims in his pool. (That is just weird. Clearly, I can't get over it.)

Now, I started this post by saying that I am not very big on active participation in the neighborhood and all things neighborly. BUT! I can't help thinking that it would make things more interesting around here if he should one day decide to mow his grass in one of his old Mr. Universe Speedos.

I'm just saying.

Mother Chick Chat - a.k.a. All About Me

2010-01-08T23:58:00.008-05:00

In a getting to know you type move, here are 100 completely random (and probably not that interesting) facts about me:

1. I am married to my high school sweetheart.

2. He’s a cop. A sheriff’s deputy. Well, a detective, actually.

3. I once said that I would never be with anyone who a) was a cop or b) owned a motorcycle.

4. My cop husband loves his motorcycle.

5. I once said that I would never have any children.

6. I have two children.

7. Clearly, I say a lot of dumb things.

8. My favorite color is pink. I find this slightly cheesy as I get older, but I like it anyway.

9. I can hold a grudge like nobody’s business. Cross me and you are dead to me, end of story.

10. I realize this is not one of my most redeeming qualities, but I don’t care enough to change.

11. Because of #9, there are whole branches of my family tree that I never speak to.

12. One of those branches is my dad. I haven’t spoken to him in almost a year and have no plans to do so any time soon.

13. I hate gossip. Before engaging in gossip with or about me, refer to number 9 on this list.

14. I can raise one eyebrow without the other.

15. Only my left one though.

16. If I raise one eyebrow at you, it means I think you are either a) stupid or b) lying to me.

17. I once went two years without talking to my sister. We weren’t mad at each other or anything though.

18. Now I talk to my sister every day.

19. I was born 2 months premature and almost died at birth.

20. I was breech and the doctor didn’t know it.

21. A nurse saw my butt and said “I see the head!” Personally, I don’t think my butt looks anything like my head.

22. My poor mother had to deliver me breech with forceps and no drugs. I probably still owe her for that one.

23. I almost died because my head got stuck. Once the doctor finally delivered me, he lifted me too high and all my blood rushed back down the umbilical cord to my mother, so I had to have a blood transfusion.

24. Everything turned out fine, because I am clearly a) fabulous and b) brilliant.

25. I never leave the house without having my toenails painted.

26. I hate clowns. They are freaky little bastards.

27. I am a very skeptical, ‘believe it when I see it’ kind of person.

28. I read constantly and have since I was little. I like most every genre, except maybe science fiction.

29. I heart my library card. I am a nerd like that.

30. Although I like to be social, I also appreciate alone time and when I don’t get it, I get cranky.

31. Some day, I would like to write a book. A novel, I think.

32. I once tried to teach myself how to knit but I had the yarn wound so tight that I broke the needles. I am clearly too uptight for knitting.

33. I truly believe that karma is a mean bitch.

34. I rarely watch TV.

35. I do like the Food Network though, because I like to cook.

36. I like to take recipes and adapt them to a healthier version.

37. I am also a fan of throwing a bunch of ingredients together and seeing what happens.

38. My family doesn’t always like my “experiments,” but they humor me anyway.

39. I also like to run, for fun. This is a foreign concept to many people.

40. I’ve run a few 5K road races, and would like to complete a half marathon in 2010. I’m not sure I’ll ever work my way up to a marathon. We’ll see.

41. A couple of years ago, I ran so much, my two big toenails fell off. It was gross.

42. I’m really vain about my feet so I glued on fake toenails (yes, they make fake toenails) until they grew back. My friends and family found this really funny. I did not.

43. I got better running shoes and my toenails don’t fall off anymore.

44. I really like to travel but I hate flying on airplanes. I’ll do it, but I hate it.

45. Places I most want to travel to are: Italy, Greece and Alaska, in that order.

46. My least favorite place I’ve been so far: Los Angeles. That place sucked. If you love it there, more power to ya. Just not my kind of town. Not to mention, LAX is a shit hole of an airport. The mountains, or hills, or whatever they are, were pretty though.

47. I am seriously addicted to Diet Coke. It’s my one vice though, so I don’t sweat it.

48. Speaking of sweat, I rarely perspire, even when exercising. This is weird, but handy, living in the South and all.

49. I had another blog before this one, from 2004-2006. I had a fair amount of readers and I’m kind of irritated that I let it go, as it chronicled a lot of important events in my life during that time, like the death of my mother-in-law from cancer.

50. It amazes me how much more aware you become of your mortality as you get older. I used to be a lot more fearless.

51. I also hate watching others around me get older. It bothers me to watch my mother age and know that she won’t be here forever.

52. I also find that I question more now that I’m older, rather than accepting things at face value or going with the flow.

53. This can make things more difficult, but also more interesting.

54. I’m a pop culture junkie. Celebrities kind of irritate me though. Most of them, anyway.

55. I’m also a trivia nerd. I have the most random facts floating around in my head. I can whip some ass at Trivial Pursuit.

56. When I was in the first grade, I refused to wear anything but skirts to school. Now I hate getting dressed up. Luckily, I work in a casual office.

57. It amazes me that my two children have polar opposite personalities to one another, and that they are also so different from me.

58. I can go eat in a restaurant or go to the movies by myself, it doesn’t bother me.

59. I love to go to the movies at the theater, but rarely watch movies at home. I cancelled our Netflix account because we never used it.

60. Both of my girls play soccer. I never thought I would be a soccer mom, but I love it.

61. I am a very competitive person.

62. This is interesting, because I never played competitive sports in school. I was a cheerleader and gymnast.

63. I am actually a pretty shy person when I’m around people I don’t know.

64. Some people mistake this and think I’m a snob, but I’m really not.

65. This is one personality trait I am working on changing.

66. I’m a fairly impatient person. I’m all about instant gratification.

67. I think it’s funny when people fall down. Well, as long as they’re not seriously hurt.

68. You know how people say to enjoy your kids while they’re small because it goes by too quickly? Now that my kids are older, I’ve realized that it’s really true. I’m holding on to these last days of their childhood with both hands, but they are still slipping away little by little.

69. I hate loud noises. They actually make me mad. The sound of a loud motorcycle infuriates me.

70. My maiden name is really uncommon. Anyone with that last name is usually my relative. It never exists in those books or on websites where you can trace your genealogy. We may have just grown from pods.

71. When I get angry, I clean my house. It makes me feel better.

72. I can’t stand clutter. Sometimes this is a problem because I throw things away, and then think of uses for them after they’re already gone.

73. I like to sit in the sun, even though I know it’s bad for me.

74. I have two small tattoos and would like to have both of them removed. Since they are mostly hidden, I may not ever get around to it.

75. My favorite food is mashed potatoes; I could eat them every day. I don’t actually eat them very often though. I did eat them nearly every day when I was pregnant.

76. When I was pregnant with Lily, I had pre-term labor and was on bed rest for 5 months. Bed rest sucks.

77. I really like pens. All kinds of pens. Especially free pens.

78. My creative pursuits pretty much begin and end with writing. I am not artistic: I cannot draw, paint, sculpt scrapbook, etc. I would like to get more into photography though.

79. When I was in the third grade, I wrote a fan letter to Whitney Houston and asked her to send me an autographed picture. She never did. What a bitch.

80. I can’t think of anything that I’m allergic to. Stupid people, maybe?

81. I have absolutely no sense of direction. I once got lost in my own neighborhood. That was a fun time.

82. I’m an okay driver, except for when I run into stuff accidentally. Like mailboxes.

83. For some reason, every time I drive through an intersection, I have this irrational fear that someone is going to run a red light and t-bone my car. What’s that about?

84. I actually have a lot of irrational fears. I just stuff them in a box and don’t look at them very often.

85. I love to shop, but always look for sale items. It pains me to pay full price for things. Ann Taylor Loft has the most kick ass sales around.

86. The one thing I don’t skimp on is makeup. Bare Escentuals is the bomb diggity. It is never on sale but is like gold in little plastic pots.

87. I have a fondness for 80s teen movies. In my book, “The Breakfast Club” is one fine piece of cinema.

88. I am always freezing.

89. I think the worst show on TV is that “Real Housewives” crap on Bravo – those are some annoying bitches.

90. When it comes to real life, I don’t cry very often. I can, however, get all teary over commercials and TV shows and movies. I get that this doesn’t make sense.

91. My favorite movie of all time is probably “Titanic.” That one gets me every time.

92. I cannot stand garlic breath. Seriously, ew.

93. I think the beach is the most relaxing place in the world. I would live there if I could. But who the hell has that kind of money?

94. I dislike pretentious people. A lot.

95. I don’t like people looking at me or being the center of attention, it makes me uncomfortable.

96. I don’t think I’ve ever met a famous person, that I can think of. I once saw Hulk Hogan at the airport. He’s tall.

97. I am an extreme perfectionist. This is an annoying habit.

98. I get compliments all the time on the perfume that I wear. It’s from Target and costs $13.99.

99. I wonder, every day, whether I’m doing a good job raising my girls.

100. I hope, every day, that I’m doing a good job raising my girls. They are my greatest thing.

Real Life Mean Girls

2010-01-07T22:01:00.004-05:00

This afternoon, Mr. Chick called me at work to say that he had just talked to Violet and she was really upset because a couple of girls at school started a rumor that she was a lesbian and kids were laughing at her. Commence Mother Chick effectively losing her shit, because this is not the first time that we've had trouble with these ~~bitches~~ girls. A few months ago, they would not stop leaving messages and texting rude things to Violet and calling her cell phone at all hours of the day and night. At that time, I called the ringleader's mother and I thought we resolved the situation. Apparently not.

I'm also irritated that this all happened today at school, the guidance counselor was involved because Violet went to him, and yet I never received a phone call from anyone in charge at school. What's that about? I left a voicemail for the counselor to call me tomorrow because I want to know what was done about what happened today, and what happens if something similar happens again with the same girls.

I will say, I talked to Violet this evening and think I am satisfied with how the counselor handled the situation, but I still want to talk to him directly to make sure we are on the same page and I handle it appropriately at home. I will not tolerate any more bullying and want to make my position clear.

Luckily, Violet seems to have come out the other side of this episode relatively unscathed. We talked about how she did the right thing going to the guidance counselor and some other things she can do if something like this happens again. She is officially a rock star and I am so proud of her.

Mean middle school girls suck. Bitches.

The One With The List

2010-01-05T21:07:00.002-05:00

Last year, my New Year's resolution was to not say so many swear words. Holy shit, did that not work out!

This year, however, I'm going with some things that I think are a bit more attainable and should ultimately lead to a more pleasant existence for more people than just me:

1. I will have more patience with my children. I'm going to try. Really. I mean it.

2. I will be more charitable, and not just by donating money. I will try to teach my children to be charitable as well.

3. I will relax and enjoy life more. I'm going to try. Really. I mean it.

4. I will make a list of things I want to accomplish this year and I will actually accomplish those things. (First thing on the list - Make a list.)

5. I will do more things to save money this year, and actually save money, not just spend more.

Let's hope I do better this year than last, dammit!

A Night At The 5th Grade Museum

2010-01-04T21:00:00.005-05:00

Last school year, Violet talked quite frequently about a girl we'll call "Summer", who was the coolest girl in the 5th grade. Summer wouldn't talk to Violet, because she was apparently not cool enough to be Summer's friend, and Violet didn't understand why. Thus was the first in a long line of lessons for Violet entitled "Lo People, They Doth Suck."

When I inquired as to what it was that made Summer so great, Violet thought it had something to do with her pretty hair and the shirts she wore under her school uniform. Seems like a scant few reasons, but far be it from me to question the 5th grade cool-o-meter. I happen to think it had something to do with the fact that Summer's mother let her wear thong underwear, which is just wrong on more levels than I can count, but I digress.

One night, the school hosted a history program based on "Night at the Museum" where every 5th grader dressed up as a different historical figure and gave a spiel about that person when you walked up and pushed a button taped to their hand. Violet was Samuel de Champlain, who was an explorer and apparently pretty boring, because the only thing I remember is that he died on Christmas Day.

After listening to Violet, I walked around the 5th grade classrooms hearing about other explorers, some presidents, some Native Americans and other random figures, like Daniel Boone. For some reason, I just thought that one was a strange choice, but I bet the kid picked it because he got to bring one of those guns that has a cork in the end that pops out when you pull the trigger.

After Daniel told me all about his trials and tribulations as a hunter in the American frontier, I moved over to Summer. I wasn't quite sure who her historical figure was supposed to be. She was wearing a pink prom dress type thing and had big hot rollery Farrah Fawcetty curls in her hair. "This oughta be good," I thought, as I pushed the button on her hand.

Turns out, Summer was Clara Barton, a pioneer woman and nurse. "Clara" regaled me with tales of her achievements as a humanitarian and battlefield nurse during the Civil War, and told me all about how she organized the American Red Cross. When she finished her speech, I said "Good job" and walked away, while thinking to myself "I highly doubt she did any of those things in a pink prom dress, dumbass."

I'm just saying.

Sick Day, Dad Style

2010-01-04T12:14:00.007-05:00

Not long ago, the school clinic assistant called my cell phone while I sat in my office, shuffling papers or completing some other equally important task. I wasn't surprised, as I'd been nursing Lily through an ear infection for a few days, which had culminated in a fun-filled holiday weekend visit to the urgent care center.

Evidently the antibiotics and eardrops we had procured hadn't quite kicked in yet, and she was in the clinic complaining that her ear hurt. The nurse requested that someone appear with pain reliever, posthaste. You can't just sign a note giving the school permission to give your kid drugs when it seems like it might be necessary, you have to bring the stuff to school and personally hand it to your child. I am in complete agreement with this rule, by the way, as I would rather not have some random clinic assistant dosing up my child without my knowledge. It is, however, rather inconvenient when there are important papers to shuffle at one's job.

Since I was buried under all the paper shuffling, my lovely husband was going to have to make the trip to school. I knew that this was going to create a hardship for him, as I had spoken to him less than 30 minutes before the school called, and he had been on his way to play golf. I dialed his cell and explained the dilemma. While somewhat put out, since he'd been this close to teeing off, he agreed to make the trip and dispense the stuff as requested.

By the time I called him back to check in, about an hour later, he had gone to the school and was already back on the golf course. When I inquired on how things went at the clinic, he hesitated. Suddenly, I heard what sounded like Lily's voice in the background.

"Is that Lily?" I asked.

"Yeah, the school made me take her with me because her temperature was 99.2 when I got to the clinic," he answered.

"You have our sick child out playing golf?"

"No, she's just riding on the golf cart."

"So, you have our child, who was sent home sick from school, riding along on the cart while you play golf?"

"What? I gave her some Motrin."

I'm sure this would have seemed like a completely rational line of thinking if I also had a Y chromosome, right?