“we will never be apart.”
That’s the new rhyme (with accompanying hand gestures) my little 7 year-old girl and I made up together tonight.
The day she turns thirteen and finds me highly annoying, I will shrivel up and die.
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31May
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30May
I love how little kids interpret the meaning of so many words.
Take, for instance, the word “popular.”
The other day, I was driving with the Redhead, and several birds flew in front of my car throughout the drive. She asked me why so many birds kept flying in front of my car.
“I guess I’m just popular today,” I joked.
“Um, Mom? I think you’re pretty… But you are not popular.”
On top of finding out that the boys don’t like me, this new revelation that I am unpopular bruised my psyche.
I asked her why she thought that, and she said “because you don’t get to go on a stage and have screaming fans!”
Good answer, Druesy… Good answer!
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27May
I recently joined a gym, and as a new member perk I am entitled to two free sessions with a personal trainer. Today, I went to my first session.
Holy mackerel – Jess was friendly, perky, not too mean but not too nice, and really helped me learn the machines.
Because I am stubborn, I never admitted when the weights were too heavy. As a result, I fully expect to have limited arm movement tomorrow.
I’ve never been the kind of person to obsess about my weight. When she said my “ideal weight” is 131, (I’m 5′7″) I told her that I weighed more than that in high school and that I look freaky in that weight range. (Lollipop head! Hellooooo!) I’m pretty sure my skeleton alone weighs at LEAST that, and a girl’s gotta have organs, right?
Oh well, my own goal for working out is to feel good. I don’t feel terrible now, but I want to feel better.
Slap me!
If you see me walking down the street and in any way resemble a Bobble head, please, just slap me!
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25May
Don’t ask me what got me on a massive cooking and baking kick, but I have to say I’m happy to get back into what used to be one of my favorite pastimes.
After my “Big D,” (divorce) I just kind of took a break from it, since my kids generally prefer plain noodles. Making a whole meal for myself isn’t that practical, and I get bored quickly with leftovers!
I saw my bread machine sitting, sad and lonely, in the bottom of my pantry recently and hauled that behemoth out to make a pizza crust. Just for kicks, I Googled a recipe for white bread.
The recipe is easy to follow, and contains exactly six ingredients: Water, oil, flour, salt, sugar and yeast.
It probably costs 25 cents per loaf, too.
I throw all of these things into the machine, and put it on the bread dough cycle. I’ve never been a fan of the bread baked right in the machine. 1 hour and 30 minutes later, I have perfect dough. I throw it into my stone loaf pan, let ‘er rise, and bake it for 26 minutes at 390 degrees. The result is a delicious white bread with a crusty… Um.. Crust.
Yum. It tastes even better than it looks.
Behave yourself and let it cool completely before cutting. If you do it too soon, your lovely loaf will be smooshed flat. Never fear, because even flattened bread can make good french toast!
The best thing since...
Speaking of french toast, I have been making huge batches of it, then freezing the slices we don’t eat right away. It’s a quick and easy breakfast for weekdays! From the freezer to the microwave, it tastes almost as good as it does the first day.
Easy French Toast Recipe: Whip together 3 or 4 eggs, some milk, a dash of vanilla, a dash of cinnamon. Dip your bread and fry it up in a skillet of hot oil. Sprinkle with powdered sugar and top with maple syrup!
Don't forget the bacon!
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23May
I purchased Maybelline’s Define-a-Lash and was eager to see results like they promise in their advertising.
Day 1: At first, I thought my eyelashes were being plucked out en masse. The brush is hard and unbending, apparently molded plastic in comparison to the traditional bristled mascara brush.
Once I realized that tension is everything, I was able to control and suppress the searing pain by reigning in my gusto.
Day 2: It was important I look good today for reasons I’d rather not reveal at this time. While leery at first, I bucked up and opened the shiny pink tube for another go-around. Based on my near-plucking on day one, I approached this mascara application with much more caution.
My restraint paid off. By adding 30 seconds to my morning routine, I added a relatively pain-free, visually pleasing lash experience. When they say “define a lash,” they really mean it. The prickly brush definitely applies mascara in a uniform manner to each and every lash it encounters, and the result is just as I’d hoped.
**Note: Eyelash appearance was not enhanced in this photo. Surrounding fine lines, wrinkles and uneven skin tone may have been embellished. We want to focus on the lashes here, after all.
(This post was originally written May 1, 2008 for my old blog.)
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20May
The other night, as I cleaned up the kitchen, Druesy called in from the family room: “Mom? How do you get boys to like you?”
A little surprised by the question, I replied “Just be yourself!”
After a short pause, she innocently asked me “So… Then how come no boys like you?”
I guess I’m doing a good job of being opaque to my children about my “adventures” in dating. This is a good thing.
My friend Chip suggested I tell her “Honey, a LOT of boys like Mommy. Mommy is just very selective.” He’s right about the selective part, at least! Ha ha!
I can only imagine what kind of statements she makes about me when she is in class, or with friends, or with her dad!
It’s hilarious, and I love it!
The best part is her honesty. It’s kind of like the time I got new glasses and she kept giving me what I can only describe as “uncomfortable looks.” She later stated:
“Mom, you look REALLY pretty without your glasses.”
I thanked her and asked “And how do I look with them on?”
After her trademark pause, she said “Ummm… A little bit good?” (Definitely in the form of a question… Not a statement!)
What funny, well-intentioned insults have your kids sent your way? -
18May
I just got home from work.
Just who is it that comes into my home during the day, while I’m at work and the kids are at school, leaving it to appear ransacked when we get home?
If not for the absence of blood, I actually think an unsuspecting police officer might identify the family room as a possible crime scene.
It really didn’t look like this when I left today… Did it? Oh, that’s right – I ran out the door with my hair on fire just like normal, so I probably didn’t notice.
A gremlin of some kind is surely to blame. Does anyone else have a gremlin at their house?
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17May
Doesn’t everyone? Your baby is so precious… So darling… So gorgeous…
When my daughter was young, I was bombarded by people advising me to get her into modeling. (She has raging red hair – it seemed kind of normal!)
But, I live in Milwaukee, WI, which isn’t exactly the modeling hub of the world. Then again, we do have Kohl’s Department Store HQ right here in town, and we aren’t that far away from Chicago. Right?
So, I sent her pictures to one of the two local modeling agencies. I got a rejection letter that said (for the most part) “Sorry, we don’t need babies right now. Please send pictures again in six months!”
As a natural skeptic, I did my homework, and understood that any “agency” who requests money from you up front is a scam. When I got the letter (on my second attempt at submitting pics) that Drue was accepted, I asked around to be sure that the agency was really legitimate.
Long story short, I got her into their system, and she did get calls for Kohl’s ads.
Here’s the catch: They call you one day before the assignment. If you can’t make it, someone else can. Furthermore, if your child is smaller than a 4T, they call in two kids. They don’t tell you until you arrive whether or not your child is the primary or the backup.
This is understandable, but highly annoying if you take time off (and lose pay) just to get to the photo shoot and learn that your kid is the backup. You still get paid, but really… Is it about the $32?
Additionally, when your kid is the backup: This is when you start to hope for the other family’s misfortune. You want that kid to have a bad day, because otherwise your baby doesn’t get exposed to possible fame. Plus, her Mom is a total bi-atch. Wouldn’t you just be better off at work, talking about American Idol and chiming in to the water cooler gossip? You’ve heard of stage parents. Brace for them.
The first time I took Drue to a gig, she played in the waiting area like she would at a doctor’s appointment.
I, being the first-timer, smiled and tried to strike up conversation with the other parents in the room. One woman gave me a look, and said “So, how many times has she worked?” I explained this was our first time, and was met with a smirk.
Naturally, I took internal defense toward this woman, until she said “Baby X (I don’t remember her name, for crying out loud) has done 16 ads, and will be REALLY upset if she doesn’t get to “work” today.”
I felt an instant blend of annoyance and sympathy for the woman and her kid.
Sadly for Baby X, Drue was the primary, and did a fine job. She got a Thursday morning Halloween outfit ad.
She was called back a couple more times, and we had one more success, in the form of a cute spring outfit.
Bottom, right...
Our final attempt did us in. I took a half-day off of a high-paying hourly consulting gig. (So, 4-4.5 hours) We went to the shoot, and Drue was called in. We were handed some adorable pink pajamas to change her into.
When we entered the makeup room, I instantly noticed a HOT red-haired model sitting in a pink bathrobe. I turned around to spot a man model in a charcoal robe. They gave Druesy some blush and as it all went down I realized the inevitable: This was a “family” shot!
Sure enough, we entered the photography stage, and the model “mom and dad” went up on the stage. I was asked to hand over my lil’ redhead. I did.
I looked at this freakishly gorgeous “family,” and felt strangely jealous. As luck would have it, Drue freaked out almost instantly!
That was the end of our family modeling attempts.
I’m glad we did it. All along, I thought “the minute she doesn’t like doing this, we’re done.” We were true to that theory, with her blatant rejection of her model parents.
At the end of the day, it was kind of fun. She earned a small amount of money toward her college fund, and some fun conversation pieces for her “Star of the Week” posters.
Plus, I still think she’s kinda cute.
Tags: modeling
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16May
I spotted a new cleaning product at the grocery store the other day – Simply Safe All Purpose Cleaner.
All Purpose Cleaner
It claims to be “Industrial Strength-Family Friendly,” and boasts that it smells great, is non-hazardous, industrial strength and eco-friendly.
The price was about $2.49, almost a dollar less than larger name products. I bought it.
It is “rain” scented, and I love it. My kitchen and bathrooms smelled good after using it, and I liked what I read on the label.
Not until I decided to review this on my site did I notice it is manufactured in Thiensville, Wisconsin… The “donut hole” of my own hometown of Mequon!
Check it out if you want more info! They have many more products, which I intend to try.
Tags: cleaning, product review, products
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12May
Dear Jerk,
This morning started out great. I was on time, the kids were both happy and funny, and I was in a generally very good mood.
Imagine my surprise when I ran into daycare to drop off my son, was back out to my car in 3-4 minutes, tops, turning onto the street when I glanced at the passenger seat to see my large black business-style tote missing.
What? How could this be? When I brought Boo’s nebulizer into daycare, did I inadvertently also bring in my tote bag? It didn’t seem likely, but I circled back around to see. No bag.
Hmm. I must have left it at home. Although, I could have sworn I had taken something out and put it back in while already in the car.
Still, I ran on home to confirm what I knew deep down: Some jerk went into my car, while my car was parked in the spot closest to the door. At my DAYCARE. In broad daylight. That jerk was you.This crime had nothing to do with scruples. I didn’t drop my wallet on the way into daycare, presenting you with coincidental and unwelcome temptation. There was no split second for you to choose right over wrong. You opened my car door and took my bag.
It wasn’t a mistake. You did not accidentally open the door to my car and remove my bag willy-nilly. You did this on purpose, and my gut tells me it was premeditated. Sure, I left it unlocked and that is my own stupid fault. But it doesn’t change the fact that your actions are despicable and asinine.
I’m guessing you thought the bag contained something valuable, like a laptop. It did not. You probably didn’t notice it was “pleather” until you got away with it, either.
You got a bag that I’ve owned for about 14 years, filled with a bunch of stuff that is mine. MINE. My checkbook. My knitting projects, that I have spent countless hours on. My brand new M*A*C Studio Fix compact and my favorite Bobbi Brown Italian Rose lipstick. (The exactly two “expensive” makeup products I own and splurge on.) My book of stamps. My Netflix movie that I was going to send back (pre-paid postage from the work mail room) and will now have to pay a ridiculous fee for. Do you get the theme here? MINE. NOT YOURS.
This is what I know you took from me today. I'm sure I will sit up in a cold sweat later, realizing there is more.
Likely, you grabbed the bag and raided it immediately for cash and untraceable items. You got $40. Whoop-dee-doo. That is $40 you just took out of my Disney savings fund, thank you very much. Of course, you don’t care about that. You probably also threw MY bag into a dumpster.
The scene of the crime.
I’m a right-brained person, and as such my imagination can be very colorful. I have used my own system to “profile” you, which took valuable time from my day. I have come up with two personas who may be responsible for this.
Persona 1: You are a creepy, random thief who happened to target a rushed parent. You were in the right place at the right time. Statistically, you are not a serial killer, but the fact that my bag contained documents with my home address doesn’t help me sleep any easier.
Just let me have an ounce of fun with this, please...
Persona 2: You are actually a parent at my daycare center. You see me daily, and have studied my behavior. You know my routine. Your child eats lunch with mine. You clearly aren’t out of a job, as your child is in daycare. Are you struggling? Cry me a river. Isn’t everyone at some level? Many of us struggle, but I, for one, do not steal during tough times. There are ways to earn money honestly. Your habits are going to, in all likelihood, be perpetuated (since they do learn from example) through future acts of the child you pay big money to put in the daycare center.
The more likely suspect. It's my blog. I can say that.
Avid knitters might speculate that I am the victim of a Knitter Hate Crime. Although I lost 3 sets of needles, several balls of yarn and my precious, beginning knitting endeavors, I think the knitting supplies probably caught you off guard.
R.I.P.
I think I have said enough. I’m actually writing this in an effort to release some of the very bad thoughts you made me think today. I am glad nobody caught your pathetic, jerk-wad booty in the act, as you may have panicked and actually harmed someone over the meager contents of MY black bag. I am glad my disorganized nature and today’s planetary alignment worked in harmony to keep the bulk of my ID and valuables out of the bag.
Sincere in my theory that you are a jerk,
Heidi
P.S. The gift card my parents so kindly bought me “from” my kids for Mother’s Day was in there too. If you feel remorse, I could use some new black sandals, size 9. You know where I live.
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