Enjoying Life with 3 Dogs, 2 Kids & an ADHD Husband.

Not too long ago, I sent in an article to eharmony, in hopes of getting a writing gig.  Guess what?  I-Got-Published!

Okay, so it’s not like I’m going to be short-listed for the Pulitzer or anything.  Or even that I finally  finished that heinous romance novel I started over five years ago (poor Drake and Sophie–they at least deserve some kind of closure!) 

But I’m excited about it anyway.  Besides, as a mom, I’ve been pretty much indoctrinated in how to celebrate the mundane.  Such as all those times I cheered like a crazy woman upon discovering poop in the potty.  Or when I do the happy dance because my son chooses a tissue upon which to wipe his weeping mucous membranes, rather than his sleeve.  Or the couch.  Or even the hound dogs (poor Skye). 

I mean, surely, if human feces and boogers can make me pump my fist in triumph, then you can pretty much guarantee I can get excited about anything. 

So awhile ago, I wrote an article on dating (yeah, funny one, I know) in San Diego.  As it turns out, they chose nine writers out of over a thousand submissions, and for some crazy reason, I happened to be one of them.  And, I’m actually getting PAID to do it.

Without further ado, here is the link to my article.  Actually, there’s just a teensy weensy little more ado to be had.  A small precaution, really—you see, here’s the part where I tell you how truly awful my article is, in the hopes that your diminished expectations might be ever-so-slightly exceeded.  Seriously, though, if you’re seeking an introspective, erudite discussion on the philosophy and conundrums of procuring romantic partners in Southern California, you shouldn’t even think for a millisecond about clicking this link but instead, make a beeline for your local library (Only, don’t check out fifty books and then promptly forget about them for over two months.  As I recently discovered, librarian types tend to frown on that.  Plus, you can buy your own bookstore for less than the overdue fees.)

http://advice.eharmony.com/article/the-top-10-guide-to-dating-in-san-diego

And, since my brain doesn’t understand the term “linear” at all, here are some photos that have absolutely nothing to do with dating in San Diego.   I caught Fergie being, well, Fergie, about a few hundred times today. 

I like to call this ensemble, “A Day in the Life of Fergie:  So Many No-No’s, So Little Time.”

Hmmm, anything tasty by the sink?

The approach….

The kill….Um, hello, does she not see me standing RIGHT HERE???

Same bowl, different snack time.  Are you kidding me?  And I’m still standing RIGHT HERE!

And now for the trash:

What have we here?  Mommy’s used snot rag?  Score!

Aha–my favorite dessert!

I promise you, the dog really does get fed.  And sometimes, even digestable stuff.

 

Oops–just a few words first.  Don’t forget to enter my contest–it ends Thursday night (and a new one will begin).

As far as WW goes, Just call me indecisive…..

Babies…

Dogs:

The great purge has finally arrived.  And it’s about time.

No, not that kind of purge–I enjoy my yummies entirely too much to sully their memory with the flavor of vomit.  Besides, we don’t clean our toilets enough for me to chance sticking my face inside ours on a daily basis.

No, I’m talking about a stuff purge.  As in, cleansing our home of the five zillion useless pieces of crap that clutter every square inch. 

Hubby and I have been vainly attempting to get organized for years.  And finally, it’s dawned on us why even the smallest drawer has thwarted our most Herculean efforts to conquer it:

It’s all about the stuff.  Granted, both hubby and myself are utterly devoid of any organizational talents.  Not to mention,  the thousands of brain cells we’ve sacrificed at the altar of parenting haven’t helped our cause.  But, really, people.  Surely even the most organizationally-void soul doesn’t clean their garage for an entire day, only to end up having it look like this: 

(And yes, the same totalled car from over a year ago is still in residence.  Talk to my husband, because I honestly don’t have an answer for you.  At least, not a coherent one.)

So, finally, after a stunning number of failures, we think we’ve excavated the root of our issue.  See, it’s not just an organizational thing, it’s a stuff  thing.  And we’ve got too much.  Stuff, that is. 

I know—for a couple with three and a half graduate degrees between us, it took long enough.  I mean, when your counters look like this, and your garage like this, you’d think anyone with an IQ over ten would have come to this conclusion years ago.  Let’s face it—even the love child of Pamela Anderson and Dan Quayle would have comprehended that there are simply not enough organizational devices in the entire Northern hemisphere to encompass the vast amounts of junk taking refuge in our home. 

So, in a massively ginormous effort to both de-stressify and greenify our lives (hey, this is my blog, and thusly, I am granted the power of making up words as I see fit), we’ve decided to purge.  The plan?  Simple.  We sell some on craigslist, list some on freecycle, and give any leftovers to charity.

Oh yeah, and I figured I could give some stuff away on my blog.  And here is the perfect place to start:

Yes, that is my closet.  Disgraceful, I know.  But just think—you can assist me in at long last determining the color of the carpet inside.  Assuming I actually have carpet in there.  And here’s how it works:

I’m going to be photographing various items I need gone and posting them here over the next month.  If you want that item, leave a comment.  At the end of a set period of time, which I’ll state in my post, I’ll randomly pick a winner and send them the item.  Oh, and feel free to leave a comment even if you don’t want the item–seriously, you won’t hurt my feelings.  Well, maybe just a little.  But I’ll get over it.  I mean, I am giving the item away after all, so logic dictates that I can’t be too attached. 

Then again, there are times when logic is just as elusive to me as the plentitude of Pamela Anderson’s bosoms.

Anyway, I figure it’s a win-win-win situation here–I’m cleaning my house, you’re getting prizes, and we’re all recycling and saving the landfills.  And all joking aside—hubby and I are really serious about scaling down the material goods.

So, here’s the first item.  I honestly don’t think I ever bought this dress–is it possible my clothes are procreating in there?   Frankly, it’s just a wee bit too short for somebody getting ready to attend her 20- year high school reunion next month (yikes)!  The brand is Billabong, and it’s a size Medium, and never been worn (unless I wore it with the tag once, which, knowing me, is a distinct possibility.  Details are so not my thing).

And if you are one of those people who must see it on first, then here you go:

Love it?  Need it?  Or absolutely detest it, but just want to get to know your mailman better?  Then leave me a comment.  You have until midnight Thursday.

So, I’m thinking this is not what the Happy Heiny’s manufacturer intended when they called this diaper an “all-in-one”.  But really—doesn’t it make a perfect hat? 

Everybody’s a fashion critic these days—even Finley.   And here’s what she had to say about my Tar-jay bling bling sandals:

(In case you’re wondering—yes, that is a gi-normous pile of baby spit-up.  On my foot.)

So they’re obviously not Manolos.  But really, are they that bad? 

Well, we obviously know Finley’s opinion.  Then again, just about anything can make her upchuck.  Even her own drool.  The real question here is—does it make me a bad mom to admit how high on the icky scale I rate massive amounts of baby yak?

And for the life of me, I can’t fathom how something so cute produces such a vast amount of yuck:

Stacey and Clinton, don’t get any fancy ideas!

My mom used to say, “Everybody has a talent.”  Or maybe that was Claire Huxtable.  At any rate, the important thing to note here is that I subscribe to this theory. 

Unfortunately for me, not all talents are created equal. 

For example, my ”special” ability involves remembering impossibly random 80’s songs and lyrics.  This skill (and I use that term very loosely) is infinitely less desirable than, say, the ability to change dog poop into diamonds (in which case I would be a bazillionaire by now) or the ability to see out of the back of my head (great for catching my son BEFORE he ”decorates” baby sister with red duct tape). 

Heck, I’d even take the ability to cook dinner while taking a nap.  But alas, no such luck.

Thus far, the only real use I’ve discovered for my “talent” is to annoy friends by screaming “It seems I care enough to know that I could never love you” any time Poison Arrow comes on at a party or bar.

At long last, though, I’m getting a chance to utilize my talent to better mankind.  Or, at least,  to make my 20 year high school reunion music selection not suck (although, “not suck” and “80’s music” is something of an oxymoron).  And yes, I said 20 year—the midlife crisis provoked by this landmark will undoubtedly fill another fifty blog posts at some later date.

But back to 80’s music.  Here’s the part where you help me out.  Below is a list of songs I remember from my high school years (1984-1988).  If YOUR favorite song from that time period is missing, please, put it in the comment section below.

In turn, I promise not to scream ABC lyrics ever again.  So long as Dead or Alive is still fair game.

Mission Viejo High School Class of 1988 Reunion Song List:

 

Squeeze (happy now, Joe?  J   –Tempted,  Hourglass, Pulling Mussels from a Shell

Beastie Boys—Brass Monkey, Fight for Your Right, Paul Revere, Girls, She’s Crafty

Guns n’ Roses—Welcome to the Jungle, Mr. Brownstone, Sweet Child of Mine, Paradise City

General Public—Tenderness, Never You Done That, General Public

The Cult—She Sells Sanctuary, Love Removal Machine, Wild Flower, Lil’ Devil

Oingo Boingo—Dead Man’s Party, Not My Slave, Only a Lad, Wild Sex (in the Working Class)

The Cure—Just Like Heaven, the Lovecats, Why Can’t I Be You,  Hot! Hot! Hot!

Thompson Twins—Lay Your Hands on Me, If You Were Here

Bryan Ferry—Slave to Love

New Order—Bizarre Love Triangle, The Perfect Kiss, Blue Monday, Shell Shock, Subculture (re-mix)

Gene Loves Jezebel—Desire

Dead or Alive—You Spin Me Right Round, Something in My House

Flesh for Lulu—I Go Crazy

Yaz—Situation, Don’t Go

Spandau Ballet—True

INXS—Need You Tonight, Original Sin

Tears for Fears—Everybody Wants to Rule the World, Shout

The Call—Everywhere I Go, I Still Believe

The Alarm—The Stand, Strength

Psychedelic Furs—Pretty in Pink, The Ghost in You

Frankie Goes to Hollywood—Relax, Two Tribes

Wham! –Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go, Everything She Wants, I’m Your Man

Siouxsie and the Banshees—Cities in Dust

Soft Cell—Tainted Love

Animotion—Obsession

Simple Minds—Don’t You (Forget About Me), Up on the Catwalk, Alive and Kicking

The Fixx—One Thing Leads to Another, Are We Ourselves?

Berlin—No More Words, Sex (I’m a…..)

Duran Duran—Hungry Like the Wolf, The Reflex, Rio

Thomas Dolby—She Blinded Me with Science, Airhead

The Smiths—Bigmouth Strikes Again, How Soon is Now?, What Difference Does it Make?

Hoodoo Gurus—Bittersweet

Naked Eyes—Always Something There to Remind Me

Talk Talk—It’s My Life

Go West—We Close Our Eyes

Sly Fox—Let’s Go All the Way

UB40—Red Wine

The Clash—Should I Stay or Should I Go?, Rock the Casbah

Madonna— Holiday, Into the Groove, Like a Virgin

Bangles—Hazy Shade of Winter, Walk Like an Egyptian

ACDC—You Shook Me All Night Long

Wall of Voodoo—Mexican Radio

Bryan Adams—Run to You, Summer of 69

Cutting Crew—I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight

Whitesnake—Here I Go Again

Crowded House—Don’t Dream its Over

REM—The One I Love

U2—With or Without You, I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking for, The Sweetest Thing

Falco—Rock Me Amadeus

Bananarama—Venus, Cruel Summer

LL Cool J—I’m Goin’ Back to Cali

Wang Chung—Everybody Wang Chung Tonight

Howard Jones—Things Can Only Get Better

Level 42—Something About You

Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam —Take Me Home

Boys Don’t Cry—I Wanna Be a Cowboy

Van Halen—Jump, Dreams

David Lee Roth—Just a Gigolo 

Tones on Tail—Go!

Shannon—Let the Music Play

Chaka Kan—I Feel for You

 Klymaxx– Meeting in the Ladies Room

The English Beat—Mirror in the Bathroom, Save it for Later

Michael Jackson—Billie Jean, Thriller, Smooth Criminal

Peter Murphy—All Night Long

Go-Go’s—Head Over Heels, Our Lips are Sealed

Michael Sembello—Maniac

Cameo—Word Up

ABC—Poison Arrow, Be Near Me

Midnight Oil—the Power and the Passion

Alphaville—Big in Japan

Pet Shop Boys—West End Girls, Heart

Icicle Works—Whisper to a Scream

Modern English—Melt With You

Billy Idol—Rebel Yell, Mony Mony

OMD—If You Leave

Heaven 17—Let Me Go

Book of Love—I Touch Roses

Samantha Fox—Naughty Girls Need Love Too

Suicidal Tendencies—Institutionalized

Dramarama—Anything

Aha—Take on Me

Steve Perry—Oh Sherrie

Poison—Every Rose Has Its Thorns

Sting—We’ll Be Together

Ratt—Lay It Down

Janet Jackson—Nasty

Katrina and the Waves—Walkin’ on Sunshine

King—Love and Pride

Murray Head—One Night in Bangkok

Los Lobos—La Bamba

Don Henley—Boys of Summer 

Nena—99 Luftballons

Jermaine Stewart– We Don’t Have to Take Our Clothes Off

Nik Kershaw—Wouldn’t It Be Good?

 Lloyd Cole and the Commotions—    Perfect Skin

Ministry—Everyday is Halloween 

Depeche Mode—Master and Servant, Something To Do, A Question of Time, Stripped, Black Celebration, Shake the Disease

Altered Images—Happy Birthday

Big Audio Dynamite—The Bottom Line

Warrant—Heaven

XTC—Dear God

Divinyls—Pleasure and Pain

The Pretenders—Show Me

Joe Jackson—Right and Wrong

Sisters of Mercy—This Corrosion

Violent Femmes—Blister in the Sun, Add it Up

Morris Day and the Time—Jungle Love

Prince—Let’s Go Crazy, U Got the Look, When Doves Cry,

The Outfield—Your Love

The Romantics—What I Like About You

Bronski Beat—Hit that Perfect Beat, Why?

Erasure—Sometimes, Who Needs Love Like That?

Club Noveau—Lean on Me

Junior—Mama Used to Say

Terence Trent D’arby—Sign Your Name

David Bowie—Modern Love, China Girl

George Michael—I Want Your Sex, Hard Day, Faith

Love and Rockets—No New Tale to Tell, Ball of Confusion

Bon Jovi—Livin’ on a Prayer, Wanted Dead or Alive

Def Leppard—Pour Some Sugar on Me

Ready for the World—Oh Sheila

C-Bank—One More Shot

Shannon—Let the Music Play

Sheila E—The Glamorous Life

Vanity—Nasty Girl

Expose—Point of No Return

Cover Girls—Show Me

Fivestar—All Fall Down

The Dead Milkmen—Bitchin’ Camaro

Aerosmith—Dude Looks Like a Lady

Echo and the Bunnymen—Sugar Kisses

Robert Palmer—Addicted to Love, Simply Irresistable

Salt N Pepa—Push It

Grand Master Flash—White Lines

B-52’s –Rock Lobster, Summer of Love

Kim Wilde—Keep Me Hangin’ On

JoBoxers—Just Got Lucky 

Billy Squier—The Stroke

Elvis Costello—Veronica

Eurythmics—Sweet Dreams

INXS and Jimmy Barnes—Good Times

Kenny Loggins—Danger Zone, Footloose

Motley Crue—Looks That Kill

Peter Gabriel—Big Time, In Your Eyes

Phil Collins—Easy Lover

Queen—Under Pressure

Real Life—Send Me An Angel

The Police—Roxanne, Message in  a Bottle, Don’t Stand So Close To Me, Every Breath You Take

Talking Heads—Burning Down the House

The Cars—Hello Again

The Ramones—I Wanna Be Sedated

The The—Infected

Til Tuesday—Voices Carry

ZZ Top—Sharp Dressed Man

Yello—Oh Yeah

Run DMC—Walk This Way

Tin Tin—Kiss Me

 

This morning was pirate dress-up day at preschool.  And water play day.  I suppose the two are compatible—after all, pirates did live on ships most of their lives.  Still, I felt a little strange having my son don striped pirate breeches over his blue and orange plaid bathing suit.  I mean, what would Stacey and Clinton think?

We picked up his friend on the way, which always makes for an interesting experience.  Here are just a few scintillating snippets of conversation from the seemingly never-ending car ride (Note:  preschool is about two minutes from my house).

“Ahoy there, you scarfy dogs!”  (These being the scurvy dogs’ more fashionable cousins, presumably.)

“Baby sister, quit being so full of happiness!”  (Ah, a budding Morrissey.)

“Go faster, mommy, go faster!” (He won’t be allowed to drive until he’s thirty.)

“Yeah, Miss Debra, go fast!”  (Ditto his friend.)

Son:  “We’re going faster than a walking piece of nothing!”  (I wasn’t sure if I should take offense, or if this was some sort of preschooler existentialism.  And how exactly does this relate to pirates?)

Friend:  “We’re going faster than poop plopping down from the sky!”  (Now, that’s an analogy I haven’t heard before, but I suppose plopping sky poop would be quite speedy.  Though I’m still not sure what any of this has to do with pirates.  Or Gordon Lightfoot, for that matter.)

Then of course, the inevitable round of “Quit touching me!”  “No, you QUIT touching ME!”  And so on, until my head demanded  an IV of Extra Strength Tylenol.

You know, Wordless Thursday really has a nice ring to it……

And here’s the pirate swag my son created and brought home.  I’m thinking less swashbuckler, and more, I dunno, Liberace meets Dead or Alive, maybe?  And the apple stickers are throwing me off a little.  

Unless the pirates ate them to fight off “scarfy”:

 

….and just in the nick of time!

“Hound dogs make the best friends”

What NOT to do when attempting the word challenge:

1)  Do not pronounce the word with all the clarity of someone who just downed a pitcher of Everclear martinis.  People will look at you like you’ve been smoking crack in a closet for the past five years.

2)  Do not be foolish enough to choose two words if you are easily confused.  Uttering “callipygian” at the grocery store probably isn’t wise, as I’m fairly certain even the most well-shaped watermelons do not have buttocks.

3)  Do not forget your words, and thus mangle them into some kind of non-existent hybrid-word.  For example, “Brobdingnagian” and “callipygian” are difficult enough by themselves.  Creating “Brobipygian” is not only completely unnecessary, but makes you sound like you just immigrated from Mars.  And the cashier at the pet food store will stare at you.

So, in the interest of maintaining a few remaining shreds of dignity, I’m going to practice my words a couple thousand times before breaking them out in public again.

Apropros of nothing, here are some photos my hubby took over the weekend:

Believe it or not, I was there first.  Apparently, the only good spot can be obtained by squishing in-between me and the side of the couch.

I suppose the other couch was toxic or something, because notice how many hound dogs are on it:

Guess who finally moved?  Worthless Ridgebacks.  Oh, so sorry to have disturbed you, Skye…….

I have a confession to make.  Being semi-new to the blogosphere, I’m not 100% certain what a “meme” is.  Or, for that matter, how to pronounce it.  Hubby says he thinks it’s pronounced “meem”.  But it could be ”Mee Mee”, or “May May”, for all I know.  Hopefully, somebody will enlighten me soon. 

From what I can gather, a meme is sort of like a bloggers’ chain letter, only way cooler.  And less annoying.  Bascially, its an idea that spreads from blog to blog, in hopes of keeping us all entertained. 

So, in the interest of being a team player, I’ve decided to start my own chain.  For all you Miss Manners bloggers out there, I apologize in advance if I am performing some gi-normous meme-related faux pas.  I plead complete ignorance.  And the 5th, if that helps.

My idea is pretty simple.  See, I love being a stay-at-home-mom.  Really, I do.  But there are days when I can actually feel my brain shrinking inside my skull, and times when I can literally see the redundant gray matter bits flying out of my ears, no doubt in search of a more stimulating environment.  I mean, my kids are wonderful and amazing, and of course,  as Rule Number One in the Mom Handbook dictates, I believe them to be the most highly intelligent children on the planet.  However, I’ve been rudely awakened to the fact that even the most clever four year-olds enjoy conversing with appalling frequency on topics like human feces, flatulence, and the private parts, or lack thereof, of Thomas the tank engine.

So, in an effort to inflate my gray matter back to its original dimensions, I’ve come up with something I hope will be a little more intellectually-stimulating than, say, blowing tooting noises on my arm.  Yes, I’ve set the bar that high.

My idea?  Well, it all comes back to memes.  I realized that I’d seen the word “meme” on multiple occasions, but never bothered to ascertain its true definition.  In my pre-kid era, I used to mark any rogue words I’d happen upon in books, then hunt down their meaning with the determination of a…well…hunter.  (At this point, I feel obligated to mention I imbibed a couple too many margaritas last night.  Which is to say I had one.)  Nowadays?  I simply ignore the offending letters, hoping, I suppose,  that one day the definition will be prominently featured in an episode of Blue’s Clue’s.  And it’s hopeless, really, because all I can think about when I watch that particular cartoon is, “Gee, I wonder how often Steve (or Joe) washes that hideous shirt?  Is he trying to teach my son to be slovenly?  And, for that matter, can the creators really hate fashion that much?”  And then I digress into thoughts of what might happen if Steve hooked up with Stacey and Clinton from “What Not to Wear”, and how it would make for a ridiculously short episode, because there are only so many ways you can examine one shirt in a 3-way mirror, and by then, even if Blue was screaming “Tumescent!” at the top of his lungs while running naked through the streets, I wouldn’t notice.  Although, come to think of it, Blue’s always naked.   Which is a valid choice when considering poor Steve’s wardrobe.

So, with no plausible chance at reclaiming my brain via Blue’s Clues, I figured I’d have to try something else to regenerate my neurons.  Thus, my Word Quest begins… 

How it works:

First, I’ll pick a word that baffles me or that I’ve absolutely never heard before in conversation, and make it my slave  For the next few days, I’ll take that word, one that has nothing to do with excrement or wee wees, thank you very much, and use it routinely when out and about.  I can whip it out at the grocery check-out line.  Insert it casually into some playgroup gossip.  Impress that snooty preschool parent (although snooty really doesn’t fly at the world’s cheapest preschool).  Even throw it out there at the BlogHer mixer (or at least I could have, had “Procrastination” not been my middle name).  Basically, I’ll keep using my word until I’ve completely tamed it into submission.  Then, on my blog,  I’ll give the definition, use it in a sentence, and then post about any random reactions I got from friends and strangers when uttering it.  And I’m tagging five other bloggers to do the same.  Once they’ve finished posting, they’ll tag five more, and so on.

I figure even if I’m lazy and apathetic, I’ll learn one new word.  And if I’m feeling especially motivated?  Heck, I can read the blogs of my tag-ees, and oversaturate my poor brain with even more brand spankin’ new wordage.  And just think–we’re upping the vocabulary ante for bloggers and readers alike.  We can all grow our brains together in one huge collaborative effort, and save ourselves from the insidious, mind-melting effects of neglect.  And sleep deprivation.  And never, ever reading any books with words over one syllable.

So, I’ll include a list of words below, just in case you’re feeling stymied (see that?  I’m getting in the mood already).  But feel free to find your own.  Ultimately, its your brain at stake, and therefore, your choice.

Here are my tag-ees:

Swistle        Moo       IdentityMixed       WannabeHippie        Playful Professional       Stimey

(Note:  In case you’re wondering, yes, I can count to six.  Even with one margarita in me.  I listed one extra above because Playful Professional may be on a blog hiatus for awhile) 

And, by the way—if you’ve been tagged, it basically means one of two things:  1) from what I’ve gathered from your blog posts, it seems like you might enjoy some mental exercise, or, 2) from what I’ve gathered from your blog posts, it seems like even if you think this is the mother of all stupid ideas, you might take pity on me.   Oh, and there’s the third cateogry as well, in which I shamelessly remind you how I fostered and cared for your poor homeless rescue dog before she went to live with you forever, so now, you should feel sufficiently indebted to me to do this bloggy thing.  (And in case that wasn’t pointed enough, yes, IdentityMixed, I am guilting persuading you into participating!)

Here’s a list of a few words I found in my search: 

abrogate, obdurate, lachrymose, crepuscular, blunderbuss, soporific, rapacious, boreal, pelagic, clathrate, rapprochement, hegemony, gyre, apostate, manse, misoneism, tohubohu, nocebo, acritochromacy,

 And here’s a great Word-A-Day resource to look up your own.

One word I considered from the above website was “coprolite”, which is basically a fossilized terd.  Then, I remembered my vow to shun all things poopy and their derivatives, so I continued my search.

And finally settled on two words.  Yes, I know I was supposed to pick just one, but being the indecisive person that I am, that really wasn’t in the cards.  And just as a tantalizer, I’ll give you the words, Brobdingnagian and callipygian.  And the fact that they have to do with size and bottoms. 

And now, only time will tell if I’ll be able to use them in public without snorting iced tea out my nose.  I suppose so long as it isn’t brain cells, I’ll be making an immense improvement……..