Tuesday, January 26, 2010

It’s in Writing…Crap.

I made a few simple New Year’s Resolutions. Nothing to get crazy about. Not a long list, because really, who needs that kind of stress and depression if the resolution is not resolved?

Go to bed by 10 p.m. Sunday through Thursday (work nights)
In an attempt to read more and sleep more, I am trying this one. 25 days into the new year, I’ve been somewhat successful. It’s at least lurking at the back of my brain when it’s 10:15 and I still need to fold the laundry. It’s kind of liberating to let the laundry sit for another day because I need my beauty sleep.

I have been reading a lot more and there have been a few mornings that I haven’t felt like I’ve been hit by a truck. I’ve never gone to bed really late, 11-11:30 was the latest, but if I don’t get 8 hours of sleep, I am a miserable human being. And since Monkey Man still has not received the memo that waking before 7 a.m. is simply unacceptable, I’m really doing this for him. What 4 year-old wants to wake in the morning, all chipper and ready to start a new day, a day that he feels has endless possibilities with mommy barking, “It’s too early! Go back to bed! Okay, fine, get in our bed and I’ll put on that annoying little yellow sponge that sucks every brain cell out of your head but will buy me 30 more minutes.” So really Monkey Man, this resolution was born out of my love for you.

Stop the addiction to Facebook
As Spongebob sucks the brain cells from Monkey Man’s head, so does Facebook do to mine. I’ll get on the computer, check email, get ready to write a post, then “just check Facebook.”
Translation: I’ll get my world news from the Live Feed, find out HGTV and Food Network are back on Cablevision, get pissed at some person’s status because they are voicing their opposing political opinions a little too loudly for my taste. Then I’ll get lost on someone’s page looking at photos of my friend’s cousin’s friend’s mother’s nephew’s birthday party. Two hours later, the laundry sits, I need to iron and make lunches for the next day, I haven’t emptied the dishwasher, and I STILL haven’t written that blog post. So, on January 25, a new resolution was born: to only check Facebook on weekends.

Stop eating meat
My husband has been a vegetarian for almost 4 years. When he started, I did it for 6 months. Then I just kind of stopped, eating it (it being chicken or turkey, I haven’t had a real hamburger in probably 4-5 years) here and there if we went out to dinner. I never cook meat at home. I’ll eat it out, but I cannot stand to touch any kind of raw meat. I became very used to “fake meat” – veggie burgers, soy crumbles, fake meatballs, fake chicken – and that’s what Monkey Man eats, too (well, that and occasionally real chicken nuggets. If you can call chicken nuggets real. But he also eats the fake chicken nuggets). There really isn’t a reason for me to eat meat. I’m perfectly happy with all the meat substitutes and I know of plenty of other sources of protein and vitamins (more so now than 4 years ago). So on January 2nd I decided to go meatless again.

Maybe next year I’ll decide to give up chocolate chip cookies. Or Pop Ems. Yeah right.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Drag Queens & Preschoolers

The 'tude on this kid rivals that of a drag queen having a bad hair day. I’m finding it hard these days to come up with a funny, sweet, or witty story about Monkey Man. Because let me tell you LOUD AND CLEAR, shouting from the rooftop of my suburban home, that these days, Monkey Man’s behaviors haven’t erred on the side of funny or sweet. But witty? Well, I am most certainly at my wit’s end.

So now, I give you…
The Top 5 Things I’d Rather Be Doing Other Than Raising a 4 Year-Old:

5. Shop naked in a Beverly Hills boutique while bloated with PMS. I would rather have wealthy, snobby, nipped, tucked, carved, starving size 0 women see my body in all its water retentiveness than say one more time, “If you don’t stop whining I’m locking you in the broom closet until they do a documentary on what exactly happened in your life to turn you into the Michael Myers of our neighborhood.”

4. Relive my entire 6th grade year. At least now if my BFF passed me a note stating she is no longer my BFF because, and I quote, “You know what you did,” I would have the nerve to say to her, “F**k off bi**h.” Sometimes I think, if I survived 6th grade, there is a good chance of me making it through this stage of Monkey Man’s life.

3. Be puking drunk because at least during some part of the night I was having a good time dancing on a bar. I always had (notice past tense) a good time dancing on bars. And not for money, I’m not that kind of girl.

2. Give up any kind of product that contains chocolate for an entire year. I’m sure the shakes and sweats wouldn’t last too long, and by the end of the year, my body might be worthy of shopping naked in that Beverly Hills boutique.

1. Relive Monkey Man’s first 8 weeks. You know, that time when the newborns lay there like parasitic blobs, just taking all your sleep, your smiles, your boobs, your SELF formerly known as YOU. Because this 4 year-old thing, it’s JUST. THAT. BAD.