Where for art Thou, Cool Moms?

Where are they all hiding? I’m starting to feel like an endangered species here. Is it so much to ask for a fun pal with a sense of humor *gasp* or maybe someone a bit progressive in their thinking? I know having kids changes people but seriously, you don’t have to turn into boring tightasses. What’s even worse is when you find someone kind of cool and their husband isn’t. That means you can’t do family things or couple things because your husband has absolutely nothing in common with their husband and groans every time you try to set something up. Of course, if your husband’s friends would grow up already and take the leap…*sigh*

I Vent, Therefore I Am

Peebs is really high maintenace this week. It was my recollection that babies got easier after 6 months or so. Not this one. I always thought my daughter was kind of difficult but in retrospect, she was positively mellow compared to him. He goes from 0 to 60 in about 3 seconds. One minute he’s sitting there perfectly fine and content and the next, he’s shrieking in that horrible squealing way that he has and I can literally feel my eardrums rattling. Really. And what is it that elicits such horror from the child? Oh I don’t know… maybe I’ll try to change his diaper or put some socks on him. Perhaps I’ll do something realllllly crazy and try to take a dangerous object away from him (he grabs everything in a 3 foot radius so he does occasionally get hold of something he shouldn’t have) And if I put him down or walk away from him for a split second I’m pretty sure this is what his screams would translate as if I could interpret it–> “Holy Shit!!!!!! The boobs are walking away!!!!!! Red Alert!!! “

You might think I’m exaggerating but I assure you — I am not. Nobody believes me because when we are out anywhere, he’s so cute and gurgles and coos at everyone, making a total liar out of me.

“Uh…Mommy?”

No good can come from a statement that begins with “Uh…Mommy?” But alas, I heard it bright and early this morning.

It was followed by “There’s big log of kitty-cat throw-up on the patio floor”

To which I replied “lolololololololololololololololololol” That’s me laughing really hard.

I don’t know why I laughed so hard but it was hysterically funny. To be honest, finding a log of kitty-cat yack isn’t all that unusual around here in this palace o’ bodily fluids and other icky things but later we found an even more mysterious treat left by the kitty — a piece of fried chicken. Yes, a piece of fried chicken sat under one of the chairs on the patio. I had seen it but without my contacts in, I thought it was some other random piece of whatnot. I’ve yet to figure out why it was uneaten or where exactly it came from as we never eat fried chicken.

“My Scene”

Someone gave my daughter a “My Scene” doll for her birthday. They’re kind of like the Barbie version of Bratz dolls, which I detest. I’m just not interested in those ugly, slutty giant-eyed dolls as toys for my five yr old daughter. Maybe when she’s thirty. Or when George Bush learns to pronounce “nuclear.”

Seriously…I don’t know if I’m just twisted or what but I’m telling you, this doll looks like a hooker or possibly a drag queen. So naturally, my daughter finds her far more interesting than any of her eight million Barbies. Her platform stripper shoes are also of keen interest. I don’t know… I’m fairly open-minded but I think “Madison” just might have to have a garbage disposal accident or something.

And forget all that unsexy diaper business… Apparently Baby Bratz Dolls now come with their very own THONG. Phew! I was wondering where I was going to get a baby doll’s thong. Thank God someone is thinking of us parents.

It was one of those days…

There are some days when it seems like everybody in the world smiles at me and does nice, considerate things for me, nearly all of them strangers. Today was one of those days. Why does this happen? I can only hypothesize that my energy is somehow different.

Maybe I had a friendly spring in my step today (unlikely with the Buddha baby on my hip).

Perhaps I was forgetting to scowl?

Or maybe I’m like Cinderella but instead of charming rodents, I’ve charmed all the Hummer moms at my daughter’s school with my bedhead and mostly Target-purchased attire.

Hmmm.