What does a mom eat for dinner when hubby is away for work and Monkey Man is spending the weekend at the grandparents? Pita chips. And wine. I would make such an awesome bachelor. The only difference is I accomplished things today. I took the dog for a run, did lots o’ yard work, then followed that yard work up with a grueling pedicure. After the pedicure, I went shopping for an Easter outfit and some new summer clothes for Monkey Man. A bachelor would’ve just sat on the couch all day and watched baseball, napped, and scratched himself.
Today was Day 2 of hubby gone all day and night for work, and this is Night #2 of Monkey Man spending the night at my parents’ house. I L.O.V.E. my alone time, but I have to say, I think I’m a little lonely. I kind of miss Monkey Man screaming for me to get him his 14th snack or letting me know he has to pee. I also kind of miss kicking hubby out of my favorite corner of the couch. But, nonetheless, I will enjoy the quiet. And then, possibly, I’ll enjoy a brownie.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Just Like MTV's Spring Break!
Monkey Man and I went outside earlier this afternoon to catch the 15 minutes of sunshine that was bestowed upon us. While he jumped on the trampoline, I started the horrible, daunting, never-ending task of cleaning up the backyard of all the leaves, sticks and various junk that has either been left over from the fall cleaning or has made its way to our yard via wind storms. I don’t know why I bother cleaning up in the fall – no one is going to be in the yard all winter and I just have to do it all over again in the spring. Oh well. I was just happy that at least this time, I had summer to look forward to instead of a dreary, cold winter ahead.
While Monkey Man jumped, he announced, “This is the Best Spring Break EVER!” Obviously, it does NOT take a lot to get this kid pumped. Let me now review the most thrilling, exciting Spring Break itinerary ever:
Saturday: Monkey Man stayed over my parents’ house Friday night, so he spent the day there on Saturday.
Sunday: We finally had a sunny, kind of warm day, so we went outside in the yard and played soccer and jumped on the trampoline. Later, we had a belated birthday dinner for Monkey Man with Hubby’s family. This included yet another birthday gift. Score!
Monday: Dentist check-up for Monkey Man. We went to see Hop with friends (absolutely hilarious, I highly recommend it!) then had lunch with our friends. After lunch, we shopped for new Converse (Monkey Man only wears his Converse, so he was in major need of some new kicks. Even with occasional washings, they were looking a little worn).
Tuesday: Annual check-up for Monkey Man which included blood work. After the doc’s office, we continued the par-tay at the Toyota dealer for an oil change. WOO HOO! Spring Break ROCKS! Later that night, I had to teach kickboxing, so Monkey Man’s big cousin and his girlfriend took him for pizza then to an indoor amusement place nearby with go-karts and bumper cars and Laser Tag and foam shooting things and arcade games – a 6 year-old’s dream. Okay, now I see the equivalent of a college spring break starting to take shape here.
Wednesday: I brought Monkey Man to the gym where he sat like a good little boy and played his DS while mommy got her butt kicked. Monkey Man had a friend over (which was a last minute welcome surprise and what prompted the whole Best Spring Break EVER comment).
Thursday: We are going to visit some friends. Monkey Man is excited to play with my friend’s kids.
Friday: Monkey Man is staying with my parents while I go to a doctor’s appointment.
Okay, so without boring you further to tears about the mundane-ness of our week home, I think you see my point. This week doesn’t exactly rival that of MTV’s Spring Break. Not once did someone ask me to join their wet t-shirt contest. My drink of choice over the past few days was Green Tea and an occasional Diet Pepsi. The only dancing I did was because the other day I had to pee really bad and could not get in the house fast enough.
If Monkey Man really thinks this is the best week ever, I am never, ever, ever, EVER letting him go away with his friends when he goes to college. Oh no. Mama’s been there, done that, and if this kid thinks Spring Break can’t get much better than this past week, there are some things better left a secret.
While Monkey Man jumped, he announced, “This is the Best Spring Break EVER!” Obviously, it does NOT take a lot to get this kid pumped. Let me now review the most thrilling, exciting Spring Break itinerary ever:
Saturday: Monkey Man stayed over my parents’ house Friday night, so he spent the day there on Saturday.
Sunday: We finally had a sunny, kind of warm day, so we went outside in the yard and played soccer and jumped on the trampoline. Later, we had a belated birthday dinner for Monkey Man with Hubby’s family. This included yet another birthday gift. Score!
Monday: Dentist check-up for Monkey Man. We went to see Hop with friends (absolutely hilarious, I highly recommend it!) then had lunch with our friends. After lunch, we shopped for new Converse (Monkey Man only wears his Converse, so he was in major need of some new kicks. Even with occasional washings, they were looking a little worn).
Tuesday: Annual check-up for Monkey Man which included blood work. After the doc’s office, we continued the par-tay at the Toyota dealer for an oil change. WOO HOO! Spring Break ROCKS! Later that night, I had to teach kickboxing, so Monkey Man’s big cousin and his girlfriend took him for pizza then to an indoor amusement place nearby with go-karts and bumper cars and Laser Tag and foam shooting things and arcade games – a 6 year-old’s dream. Okay, now I see the equivalent of a college spring break starting to take shape here.
Wednesday: I brought Monkey Man to the gym where he sat like a good little boy and played his DS while mommy got her butt kicked. Monkey Man had a friend over (which was a last minute welcome surprise and what prompted the whole Best Spring Break EVER comment).
Thursday: We are going to visit some friends. Monkey Man is excited to play with my friend’s kids.
Friday: Monkey Man is staying with my parents while I go to a doctor’s appointment.
Okay, so without boring you further to tears about the mundane-ness of our week home, I think you see my point. This week doesn’t exactly rival that of MTV’s Spring Break. Not once did someone ask me to join their wet t-shirt contest. My drink of choice over the past few days was Green Tea and an occasional Diet Pepsi. The only dancing I did was because the other day I had to pee really bad and could not get in the house fast enough.
If Monkey Man really thinks this is the best week ever, I am never, ever, ever, EVER letting him go away with his friends when he goes to college. Oh no. Mama’s been there, done that, and if this kid thinks Spring Break can’t get much better than this past week, there are some things better left a secret.
Friday, April 1, 2011
SPRINGfield in the Summer
Guess who has 7th row tickets to see Rick Springfield in July - WOO HOO! In celebration of the awesomeness that will take place in New Brunswick on what I know will be a HOT night in July, I give you a photo recap of some wonderful moments with Rick:
Although highly unflattering, this photo was taken in March 2008 when Rick came out into the audience and gave his fan, who was standing on the armrest of her chair, a hug.
I went to the Virgin Megastore in NYC in July 2008 for Rick's CD signing. This was the first time I actually met him. I was quite eloquent, too, in our first meeting. "You're awesome!" Whatever, just take a picture with me, Rick.
This was perhaps one of the greatest nights of my life, apart from my wedding, of course. Not only did I take lots of pics with Rick, I actually engaged in CONVERSATION with him. Virginia Beach, September 2008
I met a new friend at a Rick concert last year (the friend who I'll be going to the July show with!) and she gave me the tip on where Rick was staying so we could get some pictures! I love this picture - it kind of looks like we are totally meant to be, right? Thanks to Doug for taking the photo of me and my man! Pennsylvania, February 2010
Although highly unflattering, this photo was taken in March 2008 when Rick came out into the audience and gave his fan, who was standing on the armrest of her chair, a hug.
I went to the Virgin Megastore in NYC in July 2008 for Rick's CD signing. This was the first time I actually met him. I was quite eloquent, too, in our first meeting. "You're awesome!" Whatever, just take a picture with me, Rick.
This was perhaps one of the greatest nights of my life, apart from my wedding, of course. Not only did I take lots of pics with Rick, I actually engaged in CONVERSATION with him. Virginia Beach, September 2008
I met a new friend at a Rick concert last year (the friend who I'll be going to the July show with!) and she gave me the tip on where Rick was staying so we could get some pictures! I love this picture - it kind of looks like we are totally meant to be, right? Thanks to Doug for taking the photo of me and my man! Pennsylvania, February 2010
My One and Only
As you know from reading my blog, I have one wonderful, charming, funny, sarcastic, intelligent, exhausting and simply delightful child. However, as absolutely fantastic as he is, people seem to think there should be more of him. Or more of my husband and me, since we made him. Wow, people really like us that much that they want MORE of us!
Monkey Man turned 6 in March and for the past 6 years, I have been asked by many people:
“When are you having #2?” – Hmmm, none of your damn business unless you’re my husband and I need your sperm.
“So, when are you going to GIVE Monkey Man a brother or sister? - Shall I just run out to Target, grab a child off the shelf and hand over my Target credit card which gives me 5% off said child? Then I’ll wrap him or her up in some pretty tissue paper and give baby to Monkey Man?
“Do you think you’re JUST going to have ONE?” – JUST ONE drips out of their mouths like, “I really should have considered that option. She’s a freakin’ genius – gets to be a mom, love her child unconditionally, but only has to worry about one little rugrat instead of 3!”
“He should have a sibling.” Really? And I should smack you. Then you should give me money to raise the village and send them off to college. What Monkey Man SHOULD have is two loving parents who will give him their world and make sure he feels safe, happy and like he is our number one priority always. He should have food, shelter and an education. A sibling will not add or detract from his life. Monkey Man is a friendly, socially adept kid and has friends, and many people know, sometimes friends are better friends than a sibling. I know lots of people who do not get along with their brothers or sisters. I also know lots of people who are best friends with their brothers or sisters. You just never know what you’re going to get.
“C’mon, have another!” - Yes, because having another child is like taking a shot at the bar. Oh, but wait! We all know what that ONE MORE shot at the bar can do to a person! One time (in college, I was young and stupid. And totally of age) it had me sitting under a sink in the bathroom, with my head between my knees. And, hell, sometimes it produces Baby #2 or #3!
If I am out with one of my closest friends, or my mom, or my sister, and one of them says to me, “So, do you think you would like to have another child?” I would be open and candid with them if they didn’t already know the answer and reasons behind the answer. But when Nosy Nancy from the gym asks me, it’s a little annoying. Take a moment and really think about these questions and statements – there are many reasons that a woman or couple might not have another child:
1. They WANT one child. (Oh, the horror! Just one? How could they?)
2. They have been trying to having another child for years and it’s just not happening.
3. Medical reasons would put the woman or child at risk.
4. The woman has actually been pregnant once, twice, several times and miscarried.
5. The couple has adopted (and I’m talking opposite sex and same sex couples) and are either quite happy with one child or cannot afford the cost of multiple adoptions.
Maybe there are more reasons, but I think the ones I listed are enough to get someone to stop and think before opening their insensitive, rude mouth. This post has been swirling around in my head for a few years now, but a comment the other day by a woman really lit the fire under me. So that night, I wrote as my status on Facebook: “Would it be rude for me to ask people why they had more than one child? Maybe look at them with shock like, "WHY did you decide to have TWO? or THREE?" Because it's pretty rude when people ask me when I'm having another or why I don't have another child.”
Everyone who commented on Facebook was very supportive and seemed aghast that people would actually ask these kinds of questions. People had different things to say:
“It’s very rude and none of anyone’s business. I did not have another until my son was 8 and people would say that to me all of the time. Of course my circumstances were a little different but I really enjoyed the one-on-one time with my son and if I didn't have another so be it. Sometimes people are just jealous because they have 2, 3, maybe even 4 kids and they can't give the attention and time that they would like to.” Amen, sista.
"I used to hear this ALL the time! I finally did decide that another hard pregnancy would be worth it, but that was my decision to make. I've even had people say since, "see, we knew you'd come around." and things like that. I just don't get it - having only one isn't some crazy idea! And to be honest, I love daughter #2, but I do miss it just being daughter #1 sometimes. It was much easier to work when I could devote my free time to her. Now my time is so split that I feel like I'm torn in too many directions at once." Love the honesty, and I'll give it another, Amen!
“The second child is the son or daughter of the social pressure. For almost 6 years I was annoyed with the same bs and I'll just tell them if you'll support him/her and off course babysit whenever I want to go out, I'll go for it.” And again, let me add, if you would like to foot the bill for college, then in the words of Marvin Gaye, Let’s Get It On!
“I just tell it like it is: I'd love to have had another, but she's my miracle baby and I'm just glad she's healthy and happy!” Let’s get another Hallelujah! “Another good comeback- no need, I got it right the first time!” yes. Yes. YES.
Monkey Man was in our plans to be a part of our life. I am thankful everyday that my plans played out and that whatever forces that needed to work with us, did. He gives me (us!) as much joy, laughter, anxiety, delight, sleeplessness, and sheer love as 10 children could. I might be a mom to only one child, but I couldn’t be happier with or prouder of my one-of-a-kind, one and only Monkey Man.
Monkey Man turned 6 in March and for the past 6 years, I have been asked by many people:
“When are you having #2?” – Hmmm, none of your damn business unless you’re my husband and I need your sperm.
“So, when are you going to GIVE Monkey Man a brother or sister? - Shall I just run out to Target, grab a child off the shelf and hand over my Target credit card which gives me 5% off said child? Then I’ll wrap him or her up in some pretty tissue paper and give baby to Monkey Man?
“Do you think you’re JUST going to have ONE?” – JUST ONE drips out of their mouths like, “I really should have considered that option. She’s a freakin’ genius – gets to be a mom, love her child unconditionally, but only has to worry about one little rugrat instead of 3!”
“He should have a sibling.” Really? And I should smack you. Then you should give me money to raise the village and send them off to college. What Monkey Man SHOULD have is two loving parents who will give him their world and make sure he feels safe, happy and like he is our number one priority always. He should have food, shelter and an education. A sibling will not add or detract from his life. Monkey Man is a friendly, socially adept kid and has friends, and many people know, sometimes friends are better friends than a sibling. I know lots of people who do not get along with their brothers or sisters. I also know lots of people who are best friends with their brothers or sisters. You just never know what you’re going to get.
“C’mon, have another!” - Yes, because having another child is like taking a shot at the bar. Oh, but wait! We all know what that ONE MORE shot at the bar can do to a person! One time (in college, I was young and stupid. And totally of age) it had me sitting under a sink in the bathroom, with my head between my knees. And, hell, sometimes it produces Baby #2 or #3!
If I am out with one of my closest friends, or my mom, or my sister, and one of them says to me, “So, do you think you would like to have another child?” I would be open and candid with them if they didn’t already know the answer and reasons behind the answer. But when Nosy Nancy from the gym asks me, it’s a little annoying. Take a moment and really think about these questions and statements – there are many reasons that a woman or couple might not have another child:
1. They WANT one child. (Oh, the horror! Just one? How could they?)
2. They have been trying to having another child for years and it’s just not happening.
3. Medical reasons would put the woman or child at risk.
4. The woman has actually been pregnant once, twice, several times and miscarried.
5. The couple has adopted (and I’m talking opposite sex and same sex couples) and are either quite happy with one child or cannot afford the cost of multiple adoptions.
Maybe there are more reasons, but I think the ones I listed are enough to get someone to stop and think before opening their insensitive, rude mouth. This post has been swirling around in my head for a few years now, but a comment the other day by a woman really lit the fire under me. So that night, I wrote as my status on Facebook: “Would it be rude for me to ask people why they had more than one child? Maybe look at them with shock like, "WHY did you decide to have TWO? or THREE?" Because it's pretty rude when people ask me when I'm having another or why I don't have another child.”
Everyone who commented on Facebook was very supportive and seemed aghast that people would actually ask these kinds of questions. People had different things to say:
“It’s very rude and none of anyone’s business. I did not have another until my son was 8 and people would say that to me all of the time. Of course my circumstances were a little different but I really enjoyed the one-on-one time with my son and if I didn't have another so be it. Sometimes people are just jealous because they have 2, 3, maybe even 4 kids and they can't give the attention and time that they would like to.” Amen, sista.
"I used to hear this ALL the time! I finally did decide that another hard pregnancy would be worth it, but that was my decision to make. I've even had people say since, "see, we knew you'd come around." and things like that. I just don't get it - having only one isn't some crazy idea! And to be honest, I love daughter #2, but I do miss it just being daughter #1 sometimes. It was much easier to work when I could devote my free time to her. Now my time is so split that I feel like I'm torn in too many directions at once." Love the honesty, and I'll give it another, Amen!
“The second child is the son or daughter of the social pressure. For almost 6 years I was annoyed with the same bs and I'll just tell them if you'll support him/her and off course babysit whenever I want to go out, I'll go for it.” And again, let me add, if you would like to foot the bill for college, then in the words of Marvin Gaye, Let’s Get It On!
“I just tell it like it is: I'd love to have had another, but she's my miracle baby and I'm just glad she's healthy and happy!” Let’s get another Hallelujah! “Another good comeback- no need, I got it right the first time!” yes. Yes. YES.
Monkey Man was in our plans to be a part of our life. I am thankful everyday that my plans played out and that whatever forces that needed to work with us, did. He gives me (us!) as much joy, laughter, anxiety, delight, sleeplessness, and sheer love as 10 children could. I might be a mom to only one child, but I couldn’t be happier with or prouder of my one-of-a-kind, one and only Monkey Man.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
He's MY Sugar Monkey!
I had a really great day with Monkey Man today. This is not to say that most days aren't really great, but if you are a parent, you know, that many days you daydream about what it was like to not hear the word "Mommy" said 3,567 times. In 5 minutes.
Monkey Man had his "Primary Show" in school today, which makes it sound like he goes to a one room schoolhouse with a teacher named Miss Magillacutty (total phonetic spelling, but you get the idea). We live in a suburban neighborhood, in a town with 5 elementary schools, so we are in no way rural. I guess they developed the Primary Show in 1923 and the name just stuck.
It was a music show, with Kindergarten, 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Grade performing Disney songs for their theme, "The Wonderful World of Disney." Monkey Man was SO EXCITED that he had several guests coming to watch his debut performance - me, my parents, Hubby's parents, and my adopted 23 year-old daughter (not really, she is my nephew's girlfriend, one of the family and we love her dearly. She lives with us when she is in grad school, and Monkey Man calls her his sister). He woke me up this morning with a, "GET UP MOM! IT'S MY BIG DAY!" Apparently the Primary Show is one step above Broadway. The show was fabulous, an agent signed him, and he'll be singing Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah for his dinner for the next year.
Later in the afternoon, I had to go to the Greatest Store on Earth - yes, Target. I needed about 4 things and Monkey Man asked if he could get something. I told him if he would like to spend his money, he could. Monkey Man has been saving for an iTouch for months now. After we told him that WE would not buy him one, but if he wanted to save for one, he could buy whatever he liked (other than a prostitute. We draw the line at buying a prostitute). He has $215. How does a 6 year-old boy save $215 in 4 months? It's simple: allowance, birthday money, and the biggest money-maker of all - Poppy and Aga, my parents. Aga pays him to let her sleep in when he sleeps over. Monkey Man writes and illustrates books and charges BY THE PAGE. This child has come home from an overnight at my parents' house $9-$12 richer. And he sleeps over almost every weekend.
But I was very proud that he was excited to buy something with his own money. He really wanted a new Wii game, so he decided to get a new game and keep saving for the iTouch, knowing that the game would deplete the iTouch fund. He picked out a new Wii game, and we played it for much of the evening. It just felt really good that he did it himself (and was smart enough to extort from my parents to get him to this point). It felt even better that I didn't lay out a penny for a new game.
Monkey Man had his "Primary Show" in school today, which makes it sound like he goes to a one room schoolhouse with a teacher named Miss Magillacutty (total phonetic spelling, but you get the idea). We live in a suburban neighborhood, in a town with 5 elementary schools, so we are in no way rural. I guess they developed the Primary Show in 1923 and the name just stuck.
It was a music show, with Kindergarten, 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Grade performing Disney songs for their theme, "The Wonderful World of Disney." Monkey Man was SO EXCITED that he had several guests coming to watch his debut performance - me, my parents, Hubby's parents, and my adopted 23 year-old daughter (not really, she is my nephew's girlfriend, one of the family and we love her dearly. She lives with us when she is in grad school, and Monkey Man calls her his sister). He woke me up this morning with a, "GET UP MOM! IT'S MY BIG DAY!" Apparently the Primary Show is one step above Broadway. The show was fabulous, an agent signed him, and he'll be singing Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah for his dinner for the next year.
Later in the afternoon, I had to go to the Greatest Store on Earth - yes, Target. I needed about 4 things and Monkey Man asked if he could get something. I told him if he would like to spend his money, he could. Monkey Man has been saving for an iTouch for months now. After we told him that WE would not buy him one, but if he wanted to save for one, he could buy whatever he liked (other than a prostitute. We draw the line at buying a prostitute). He has $215. How does a 6 year-old boy save $215 in 4 months? It's simple: allowance, birthday money, and the biggest money-maker of all - Poppy and Aga, my parents. Aga pays him to let her sleep in when he sleeps over. Monkey Man writes and illustrates books and charges BY THE PAGE. This child has come home from an overnight at my parents' house $9-$12 richer. And he sleeps over almost every weekend.
But I was very proud that he was excited to buy something with his own money. He really wanted a new Wii game, so he decided to get a new game and keep saving for the iTouch, knowing that the game would deplete the iTouch fund. He picked out a new Wii game, and we played it for much of the evening. It just felt really good that he did it himself (and was smart enough to extort from my parents to get him to this point). It felt even better that I didn't lay out a penny for a new game.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
What's Cooking?
I've written this before on my blog, and said it lots of times - I hate cooking. I do not enjoy taking the time out to buy all kinds of ingredients, assemble them for a recipe, make something, and then eat it. That just takes entirely too much time. And I've discovered I'm like my mom - after I've cooked something, I have no interest in eating it. I've looked at it for almost an hour, I know what's in it, I've smelled it getting ready, and as good as it might be, I have no appetite for it. It's so much more exciting (and so much less exhausting!) to have it arrive magically on my plate.
But I do cook. I just absolutely loathe the process. But this family will not live on take out, so cook I do, not well, not with love in my heart, but for the simple act of survival.
What I don't like about not liking to cook, however, is the vibe I get from people (women) when I tell them, honestly, that I don't like to cook. It's as if my womanhood has been ripped out of me, like my ovaries have been julienned and served au gratin (I clearly have no idea what these terms mean). Why am I SUPPOSED to LOVE slinging a wooden spoon and know exactly what one means when one says "braise" (huh?) or broil (really, what is the difference between broil and roast? Thankfully we don't eat meat)?
I was a part of a marketing focus group about vitamins and supplements, and when I mentioned that I hate cooking, a few of the women looked at me with horror. I wanted to scream back, "But I love to organize! And my house is so clean you could drop your roasted shank pork loin thing on my floor and continue to eat it! What's your house look like, huh, Julia Child? While you're all boiling and basting and sauteeing, I am revelling in the joy of a clean, organized home. I can find my taxes from 2004 in 3 minutes. A friend called and is stopping by in 30 minutes? Not a problem thanks to my rule, 'A place for everything and everything in its place.' "
One woman in particular just kept at it with the, "Well, I just love to cook. I want my family to eat healthy. I love to experiment with all different kinds of foods and herbs and we belong to a Food Co-op and I watch all the food shows..."
Why do I care? I shouldn't care. I do A LOT of things for my family. They are all functioning and alive. They wear clean clothes everyday. Bills get paid on time. I work. Monkey Man eats as balanced of a diet that a picky 6 year-old can get away with. But for some reason, I just feel like I SHOULD love to cook. But, nah. I'd so much rather clean out a closet. Now that's some good times!
But I do cook. I just absolutely loathe the process. But this family will not live on take out, so cook I do, not well, not with love in my heart, but for the simple act of survival.
What I don't like about not liking to cook, however, is the vibe I get from people (women) when I tell them, honestly, that I don't like to cook. It's as if my womanhood has been ripped out of me, like my ovaries have been julienned and served au gratin (I clearly have no idea what these terms mean). Why am I SUPPOSED to LOVE slinging a wooden spoon and know exactly what one means when one says "braise" (huh?) or broil (really, what is the difference between broil and roast? Thankfully we don't eat meat)?
I was a part of a marketing focus group about vitamins and supplements, and when I mentioned that I hate cooking, a few of the women looked at me with horror. I wanted to scream back, "But I love to organize! And my house is so clean you could drop your roasted shank pork loin thing on my floor and continue to eat it! What's your house look like, huh, Julia Child? While you're all boiling and basting and sauteeing, I am revelling in the joy of a clean, organized home. I can find my taxes from 2004 in 3 minutes. A friend called and is stopping by in 30 minutes? Not a problem thanks to my rule, 'A place for everything and everything in its place.' "
One woman in particular just kept at it with the, "Well, I just love to cook. I want my family to eat healthy. I love to experiment with all different kinds of foods and herbs and we belong to a Food Co-op and I watch all the food shows..."
Why do I care? I shouldn't care. I do A LOT of things for my family. They are all functioning and alive. They wear clean clothes everyday. Bills get paid on time. I work. Monkey Man eats as balanced of a diet that a picky 6 year-old can get away with. But for some reason, I just feel like I SHOULD love to cook. But, nah. I'd so much rather clean out a closet. Now that's some good times!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Sugar Mama's Back
Yep, Sugar Mama is back. That is to say I'm off the wagon. I'm so off the wagon, I can't even see the wagon anymore. I think it took a right turn at, "I have PMS." Then it made a sharp left at, "Just this once, I'll start again tomorrow." There was a brief blinking yellow light screaming, "CAUTION! It's been two days and you haven't gotten back on the wagon." Then the wagon fell off a cliff and I said, "Screw it."
Poor wagon never really stood a chance.
Poor wagon never really stood a chance.
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