I'm so not a granola girl

My Husband.He's a mountain bike racer. (Doesn't he look all sweaty and dirty and hot and yeah, I'm totally pimping out my husband for a post).

Said mountain bike races are well, in the mountains (okay, we live in Minnesota, so large-ish hills with trees). Who likes to be in the trees, among the mountains, taking in those deep breaths of fresh air?

People of the 'granola' kind. My husband even witnessed through the corner of his eye (or so he says) a woman biker pulling up her skirt, slipping off her biking shorts and proceeding to pull up her underwear, in front of people, in front of 100 racing people. I'd consider that pretty granola. I'm so not a granola girl.

Needless to say, I feel like I don't fit in well with all of the granola girls who some happen to also be mountain biking mommas. I sit side-by-side these mommas as I tide my boys over with their favorite over-processed, pre-packaged, high fructose snacks as they sit cheering on their racing Dad. My favorite new snack to bring along...

because they look like this

which looks very similar to this

Gotta love a snack with shock value. If I pack them up in a clear little baggie and hand them individually to my children to woof down, imagine the look on those granola girls' faces.

And you crazies at Keebler - you know you wanted to call them Scooby Snacks, you know America is going to, why didn't you just go for it? A big Rut -Ro for you. (By the way, I love using my horrible Scooby voice when asking my boys if they want a scooby snack?)

Hooters for Neuters

Once in a while something catches your eye, makes you stop in your tracks, makes you turn all your attention to this one important, pressing subject. This morning, I had the television on, listening to CNN in the background of my breakfast fiasco clean-up when I heard that one of the most popular searches this week was Hooters for Neuters.

It appears as though the term 'neutered' makes men cross their legs, cup their hands and clear their throats (what a surprise!) Men fear that neutering their best friend may take away from his owner's virility. Apparently, jiggling young women, clad in short shorts and tight t-shirts bearing platters of wings is helping encourage those men to in fact, neuter/spay their pet.


Thank you, Hooters girls for your job well done. It's great that your continuing to 'encourage' our men and dwelling into serious issues (which, I don't want any haters, I know that it's serious, I just couldn't pass up the chance to blog about the great slogan: Hooters for Neuters.)



Oh, and did you know that Hooters has clothing for children. Get your Christmas shopping done early! (I'm so getting this for Wyatt)

duct tape and desire

Nothing makes me feel better about my deep, dark desire to duct tape my children's mouths shut on certain days than looking for a new job on Craigslist, where I could then leave my grouchy, fussy children in the hands of some other poor soul while I pursue new endeavors.

Perhaps I should look into something to advance my career, below they are looking for someone 'mature'. Plus, who doesn't like a free clothing job benefit...

Female Models $20.00 an hour plus free clothes (western suburbs)

Reply to: job-776472581@craigslist.org

Date: 2008-07-30, 3:38PM CDT

Looking for a mature model girl next door is a plus

Maxim meets playboy style shoot

No experience required

Must be fun and take direction well

outdoor and studio shoots available

Great way to start a portfolio!

Or perhaps a job that interests the 'high end', sophisticated side of myself...

So You Wanna Be a Model?

Reply to: job-768367788@craigslist.org

Date: 2008-07-24, 1:42PM CDT

Looking for females and couples ages 18-35 for a high end fetish video and photo shoot. Head and body shots a plus. Experience isn't a must, we will train if necessary. Up to $75 an hour if experienced and a good fit, possibility of long term work with points. Contact James

Compensation: Up to $75/hr based on experience

(and yes, I could totally use $75 an hour, that would be a huge pay increase. Bonus, they are 'willing to train'. I am curious what a 'good fit' means and 'long term work with points', hmmm)



or perhaps I should forget a new job and just have my investments start working for me...

Locations needed for "America's Next Felon"

Reply to: frznstate@aol.com

Date: 2008-07-21, 1:59PM CDT

We're looking for an abandoned warehouse, or an empty warehouse that looks rough or could be dressed down. Even an empty or closed restaurant, bar, gas station. Something a dirty cop and an ex-con would hold a reality show so it wouldn't draw attention. Budget is very low so we'll talk about compensation. The owner of the location will get film credit, copies of the project, invite to the wrap party and to the premiere, and t-shirts when they arrive.

This is going to going to be a fun project so get on board.

I think my house would be perfect for a dirty cop and/or ex-con show. I'd get to wear a t-shirt that says something along the lines of "America's Next Felon" was filmed at my house and all I got was this lousy t-shirt. (Aren't those shirts the best!)

It's so great that life is full of opportunities. (I'll make sure to tell my children this when their mouths are taped shut so they can be sure to hear me.) You can thank me too, I've left all links to Reply to:

renewal

A renewed respect, I wrote that I have a renewed respect for single parenting as I 'vacationed' alone with my children. It's renewed because I've always respected single parenting. At seventeen years old, I watched as my nineteen year old sister came home with this little baby, snuggled in her arms always, that was all hers. The father walked out after the pregnancy became too real and 'real life' became just too much.

I watched her bath this baby, feed this little being, cloth this tiny little boy all by herself. Though I was seventeen and wrapped up in my own world like only a seventeen year old could do, I took some notice. I could see that she loved it, she loved being a mother, it was written not only on her face, but her entire body oozed of new motherhood.

But she did it all alone. There was no one really to hand off her baby to when she desperately needed a break. No one to turn to in the middle of the night and whisper 'your turn' to when the baby woke in the wee hours of the morning. There is also no one that understands quite like your partner, your husband in sharing that little smile between the two of you as you recap the moments of the day that made you laugh out loud or in fact, scream out loud.

I've been thinking about this, as well as those moms that have husbands that work all of the time or husbands who travel for business often. I'm so lucky, I don't have that. I spent several night of this vacation wiping tears away from my four year old's eyes, getting ready for bed, as he again begged for Dad to be able to be there. Bedtime is their time, he and Dad reading books, folded into each other absorbing each other in that moment of that night. I love that he cherishes his father in a way that I can never replicate.

I'm lucky that I don't have to be a father, ever. I'm a mother. I may not be good at it some days, I may very much be this anti-supermom on those days when I give up trying to do it all but knowing that I do not have to 'do it all' all by myself renews love of my husband, my partner.

the skirt

It's definitely not the coffee, cause it was bad, I mean really bad. It's certainly not the 'social' aspect, I worked in my own one man (umm, woman) team. There are only a few things I miss about not working 'outside' the house, as in not contained within these four walls with an equal number of children, leaving me outnumbered for nearly 12 hours a day. What I miss the most about working (and I'm going to drop the 'outside the house' part from here on out because you get it, I get it; we Moms are all still working, some just get checks deposited in the bank. Back to what I miss most about working...) is getting 'dressed up'.

I'm not one of those people that must wear makeup before leaving the house or am I one of those that wears velor jogging suits out in public. I'd like to think I'm the middle of the road here; a little bit of fuss and of course, a little bit of muss.

I worked in corporate retail, I got to dress with the best of the best, at least for the Minneapolis area. I literally rode 'their' coattails trying to look a quarter as good as they did. When it's laundry day here, I find myself reminiscing at the closet doors. The green suede skirt is calling me. It's a one-of-a-kind, soft, buttery dark green suede pencil length skirt. It was never put into production and I probably bought it for $10 at a sample sale, but nonetheless, it is one of those things that makes me wish I was still stuck in a cubicle with my plastic plants.

I slip off my stretchy pants and slip into my skirt. It doesn't look horrible with my matching sweatshirt, but I look for a replacement. I top it off with my favorite pair of black heels. Forty minutes later, I've tried on nearly all of my all of my old work clothes, have a pile of things that should be hung back up and the pile of laundry still in the basket is still there. I contemplate actually wearing the skirt, but come to my senses. I have a 15 month old that likes to throw his food in any 4 foot radius. I'm on the floor at least six times a day wiping spilt milk up from under the dining room table. I have to pin the arms down on Wyatt to change his diaper.

What, give up this glamorous job? The skirt will have to wait.

running in circles

I'm on vacation this week, with both of my children, without my husband. I'm really not certain it should be considered a vacation on my side but I'm certain that my husband should consider it his. I have a renewed respect for single parenting. I feel like I'm running in circles, getting pretty much nowhere. I often have been thinking about this video of Wyatt at about 9 months old. He's doing exactly how I feel 'running in circles', but at least he and I are having fun doing it.

This video has been posted previously, but recycling in all forms is pretty cool, right?

fuzzy numbers

Remember this from your child birthing classes?


I think that today I'm at about a 3, multiply this by the fact that it's 82 degrees in our house (because the air conditioner is broken and it's smack dab in the middle of summer therefore not being fixed until tomorrow). All you mathematical geniuses out there probably have an equation that can calculate my pain level of 3 multiplied by the degree of 82 and come up with some real 'emotional' number but I'm guessing that my face looks closer to the 5 than it does to the 0.

It's not that I hurt or I'm in pain, I'm simply tired. I'm tired of being the 'bad guy' all. the. time. I'm tired of pulling Henry off Wyatt when he performs his 'smothering hug'. I'm tired of separating Henry and his friend from yet another one of their death-match wrestling moves. I'm tired of putting them in a time out for the third time in a row. I'm tired of asking 'why you did this?' only to be responded to with a snicker or a shrug of the shoulder. I'm tired of him saying that I'm being the naughty one. I'm tired of him saying that he doesn't love me.

But there was five minutes today (which is probably as exaggeration, it was more like a minute and a half, but I'm hanging onto those '5 minutes' with all I've got) where I was so happy to be with my children, in the moment, right there. Since the air conditioning is out I have both fans running in our living room. Today, for the first time, I showed Wyatt the simple joy of 'talking' into the fan. He was enthralled; first timid, then inquisitive and then he thought the entire experience was hilarious. When he discovered that he too could 'talk' into the fan, well that moment is simply one of those moments that I just can't get tired of.

Don't you love the wind blowing in his hair? He looks like a 'little old man' about to lose his toupee.