Thursday, December 22, 2011

'Twas three days before Christmas

And Mother Nature dumped a lot of snow
I had one day of work left and didn't want to go.
I wished for a snow day but Todd said "oh no"
If you want a snow day you take PTO!

The Weatherman scared everyone, no one wanted to drive
I made record time to the office, I made it alive!
I got all my work done, I'm not staying 'til five
I'm leaving here early, for this I will strive.

I've got presents to wrap and food to prepare
The guys in my house are of no help, they really don't care.
All the work falls on me, it doesn't seem fair
There would be no Christmas if I were not there.

So tonight I will sort and lable and wrap
Who's idea was it to buy all this crap?
Video games and Lego and Xbox...
Is this what he asked for when on Santa's lap?

As much as I Bah Humbug and act like the Grinch
The reason I do all this work is a cinch
The joy that I see on  my Tommy's face
Is the reason I participate in the holiday rat race.

See, even Mrs. Scrooge can find some holiday cheer
To all of my friends who are far and near
I wish you the very best over the holidays and for the coming year.

PS:  I'll work on my rhyming for next year, I promise!

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Bah Humbug

Have I mentioned lately that this time of year is NOT my favorite?  I remember as a kid, the wait between Thanksgiving and Christmas was eternal.  Now it goes by in a flash.  There are several reasons for this:

Grown-ups do all the work.  We shop, we bake, we wrap, we ship, all on top of working a full time job.  There is barely enough time to sleep, alcohol consumption goes up nation-wide (OK, I made that part up), the post office is a nightmare (lucky for me my hubby takes care of that part).  There is just too much to do.

Kids, well, they just sit around and wait.  They circle what they want in the toy catalog, they go see Santa, they want everything they see on TV...it's a long process for them.  Then the big day comes and all of our hard work as parents is demolished in mere minutes. 

I'm not a cook, but I do like to bake or whatever during this time of year.  For the past several years I have made something like 13 batches of Chex Mix, PER YEAR.  This year?  Nada, nothing, big fat ZERO.

Tomorrow is cinnamon roll baking day with my friend Susan.  We are on a time constraint due to the kids getting out of school at 230, their holiday party at 130, yadda yadda.  So tomorrow at 830 we begin the task of rolling out the dough.  Lots of dough.  Dough that I have to have ready by 830 when there is a 2-hour prep window.  I'll be scalding milk at 6am...damn you, Pioneer Woman!!!!

Saturday is cookie day with our friend, Karen.  It's a tradition that Tommy and I look forward to every year.  I'm still not done shopping, I'm not done wrapping, and I'm certainly not done bitching about the holidays.  I vote that we do it once every 4 years, like the Olympics, and people will appreciate it more.

In the meantime I'm off to train Manny the Elf how to scald milk and mix in yeast.  Sh*t.  Yeast that I have yet to buy...ho ho freaking ho.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

The shopping mall is like a mine field

I rarely go to the mall.  There are only a handful of stores that can get me there, otherwise I go to the nearby outside mall.  When I DO go to the mall, which happens to be Flatirons Crossing, I have to methodically plot my way through so as to avoid those annoying mall kiosk sales people.

Those people are like vulchers.  They wander out into the walkways and want to squirt lotion on you or crimp your hair or clean your jewelry.  They are highly trained at blocking your path whilst waving about the product they are trying to sell.  It usually goes something like this:

Annoying Kiosk Salesperson (AKS):  Would you like to try some lotion
Me:  No thank you
AKS:  Can I ask you a question?
Me:  You just did and no thank you

I don't like to be purposefully rude, but trying to draw me into some kind conversation by asking me a question...puhlease.  I don't want your product thankyouverymuch.  Go away and let me be. 

It's not like I'm strolling along at a leisurely pace either, I shop with a purpose, I want in and out.  If you see me heading full tilt toward you, don't get in my way or you are likely to become mall road kill.  I detest these AKS so much that I now have a path that involves many escalators and department store detours to avoid the long stretch of AKS.  A trip to the mall now takes twice as long because of the detours.  I suppose I could look at it like an exercise routine.  Or, I could just stay away from the mall, which would make my hubby's wallet very happy.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Second grade homework strikes again

Growing up I hated math.  HATED it.  I clearly remember saying "why do I need to do this stuff, I'm never going to use it again in my whole life".  Well, life proved me wrong as I basically do math for a living.  Algebra and all. 

Math has changed a lot since I was in the second grade.  They have this newfangled NEW math now.  The schools really should have night school for us parents who use "olden days" math.  Case in point:

Tommy brings home this math homework before Thanksgiving.  It was called "Ballpark Estimations".  First of all, why do we need this?  If they want a ballpark estimation for 59 + 63 why don't they just add the two together and have the correct answer instead of a close enough answer?  Anyway, I read the instructions on the back of the worksheet and we went to work on it.

Yesterday the homework came home.  They were ALL wrong.  All of them.  I consider myself a fairly intelligent person so I was slightly offended that none of them were right.  And here is the kicker...I'm not sure WHY they were wrong!!!!

I'm volunteering in Tommy's class on Friday and asked his teacher if I could stay after and have her show me what the !@#$%^&*!!! I did wrong.  Stay tuned.

Monday, November 28, 2011

Black Friday

I never participated in Black Friday until I had a child.  Sure, we used to go with our mom the day after Thanksgiving, but that was back in the olden days when stores still opened at a normal time. 

Two years ago the furnace went out and it was FREEZING in our house, so I got up and went to Walmart at 5am.  What a disaster and I proudly claimed that I would NEVER do that again.  The next year I got up at 4am and went to Kohl's.  I was in such a fuzzy state I'm still trying to figure out who I bought all of that stuff for, and yes, I claimed NEVER AGAIN.

Of course I got lured in again this year by a video game that Tommy wanted that was nearly half off at Target this year, so I planned to go.  I convinced my friend, Leslie to go with me, and then on Thanksgiving we recruited Lexi and Ally to go as well.  To kill time I took the girls to a movie but first we needed coffee so we hit the McDonalds Drive Thru.  TWENTY FIVE minutes later we had our coffee, which we had to guzzle down (my throat is still in pain) and went to the movie.  We swung by and picked up Leslie and went to Target.

For some reason I had it in my head that they opened at 10.  Nope.  Midnight.  Crap.  Now we have 90 minutes to kill.  Went and got some gas, thought about going to Walmart, even got so far as the bank across the street to park and then nixed it.  So we went to the other Target and the line was wrapped around the building.  We sat in the car where it was warm and Leslie and the girls played trivia on her phone.  A few minutes before midnight we made our way to the front of the store realizing we would have to wait until the entire line was inside first.

We saw lots of people we knew, everyone was in a happy, cheerful mood.  No pepper spray or stampeding, so that was a plus.  About 1220 the line was inside so the rest of us were allowed in.  We decided it was too difficult to drive a cart, we would just carry our purchases...good thing I brought my elves with me. 

I sent elf #1 (Leslie) off on a secret mission.  Lexi had to make a pit stop so Ally and I headed to electronics where there was a huge line.  I stuck her in the line and headed to the video games.  Luckily I found what I was after right away and I went to rescue Ally from the line.

Then we headed off to housewares.  Their uncle just moved back here from Taiwan and he's setting up a household, so we got a coffee maker, toaster, etc.  This is where the elves came in handy.  We all carried boxes to the front and checked out.  We were out of there by 1245.

The next day after sleeping in I headed up to Evergreen to my friend, Larae's store, Marmalade.  She sells the best jewelry, really unique and beautiful.  I knocked off some gifts from my list all while supporting small business, and headed back home. 

Then after dinner with my hubby, we hit the mall.  My sister was at the mall at Midnight and said it was crazy but she got some good deals.  The place was still busy at 7 o'clock that night, especially the Apple store.  They had a good system though, an express check out.  You basically walked in, said what you wanted and paid.  Of course we got behind the people who were asking a million questions and taking forever, which didn't go over real well with Adrian.  But another checker outer showed up to rescue us.  I don't mind that store, but seriously, turn on some A/C...it was about a thousand degrees in there.

All in all, Black Friday was pretty fun.  I can't believe I'm saying it, but I probably will go Black Friday shopping again next year, as long as my elves are available!

Sunday, November 6, 2011

I'm pretty sure my husband's car is out to get me

I have had nothing but trouble with that car since the day it arrived.  I took a day off of work to take delivery of that car.  From this point on I will refer to the car as Black Widow, or BW for short.

The guy off loaded BW into the street and parked her kind of crooked.  After he drove away with his load of cars, I tried to put BW into the driveway, but it would not start.  Turns out, it was out of gas.  I was nice and went to the gas station, bought some gas, put it in the car, and pulled it into the driveway.  Later that day Adrian discovers it has no dashboard, none of the gauges are working. 

So while he was out of town I dropped BW off at the shop and went to pick her up a few days later.  But the place was CLOSED, in the middle of the day!  My friend Susan had to take me to get Tommy at school and drop us off at home, only to head back up there an hour or so later to get the car.

Those were just minor things, right?  Well, I have been pretty vocal that BW is going to get pulled over because the windows are tinted too dark for Colorado law, and there is nowhere on the front of the car for a license plate, also a Colorado law.  Well, BW is pissed at me for talking smack about her.

Friday night as the three of us are going to dinner, I get inside the car and RRRIIIIPPPP something tore in my lower back.  I literally could not get out of the car.  Adrian had to help me out and up to the bed, where I have been the most of the weekend.  This morning we ventured out for some breakfast and as I walked past BW in the garage, I swear, she snickered at me as I hobbled by.

Adrian leaves for a road trip tomorrow and he's taking Christine, I mean, Black Widow, to the airport.  I get a few days of reprieve from Adrian's killer car.  In the meantime, feel free to bring over any pain killers you may have squandered away, I can put them to good use!

Monday, October 24, 2011

I would like to take this opportunity to publically apologize to my parents

When Marne and I were growing up we wanted a dog.  We swore we would take care of it, clean up after it, etc.  So after enough convincing on our part *ahem* we got a puppy named Mazie.  All the promises we made lasted about, oh, a week.  Mazie soon became our Dad's dog.  He fed her, took her to the groomer, cleaned up the yard after her.  Pretty much we shirked all responsibility of caring for the dog.  We just loved her.

I bring this up because the boys in my house wanted to get another pet.  Tommy's friend, Jack, recently got a guinea pig.  I should rephrase that to say that Jack's mom, Susan, got a guinea pig.  She takes care of it, cuts up it's food, etc.  Jack does help out cleaning the cage and such, but pretty much Astro belongs to Susan.  Adrian thought Tommy should have a guinea pig.  Because I have seen what happened at Jack's house, I put my foot down.  I take care of the dog, and I fully admit she is MY dog, but I'm not taking on another pet.

Tommy and Adrian came home with a fish aquarium.  When I got home it was in pieces on his bedroom floor.  Here's how the conversation went:

Me:  I told you I am not in charge of this project.  Why is the tank in pieces?
Adrian:  Because!  It's a mess, I can't figure it out!!
Me:  It amazes me that you are a writer by trade, yet you cannot follow directions.
Adrian:  It's too confusing, they make it too hard!

Ugh.  So the next morning Tommy asked me if I would put it together (and who can resist that little cutie?) so I told him I would work on it later.  I asked why Daddy didn't put it together...his response, and I quote:

"Daddy was reading the directions and then he yelled My Eyes! and threw it all down on the floor".

Basically they bought a tank and some rocks.  In the process of putting it together I realize you need something special for the water, which they didn't buy.  Also, they didn't buy anything fun like plants or rocks for the bottom of the tank.  So Friday after school Tommy and I head back to the pet store to get such items.  We get it home, put everything in place, and we are ready for fish in 24 hours.

Saturday, back to the pet store for fish.  Fish are picked out (Irving, Max and Jimmy), yay....but wait, we need other goo for the water.  OK, got that.  Oh wait, we need food for the fish...got that, and it REEKS!    Oh wait, do we know how to clean the tank?  Of course we don't, so we get the hose water sucker outer thingy.  Ca-ching, more money spent.  Here is the finished product.



Jimmy is the striped one, the black one is Irving, and Max is usually hiding somewhere, he's shy.

I very pointedly show Adrian the tank cleaner and tell him I'll figure it out, but HE is responsible for the weekly cleaning of the tank.  I can see it now, Ginger Boy is going to get a glazed look on his face, say he can't do it, and you know who will be responsible for cleaning that tank.

Pretty much this is another payback from my childhood.  Sorry Dad, but I'm getting mine now with the fish pooper scooper.  Just like I bred my own little bathroom inspector.  What karma lies in wait for me next?

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

I now truly understand the meaning of the phrase "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas"

For the past couple of years I have been making an annual trip in the Spring to Vegas with Joan and Kristel.  The first year Lori went as well and the 4 of us had a fabulous time.  Something seems to always happen that just makes the trip.

That first year we were drinking at the bar in the Flamingo casino and met some very young college boys.  Somehow by the end of the night I ended up with a booty text from one of those young men.  THAT is the moment that pretty much defined that trip.

Earlier this year we went and sadly Lori couldn't join us, so it was the three of us.  We found part of a latex glove in the bottom of our pile of nachos...hence our term "latex nachos".   Since there were three of us we had a roll away bed that we nicknamed the snapping taco.  Both things were mentioned several times over this past weekend when we converged upon Sin City once again.

When Kristel and Jim decided to elope to Vegas I was thrilled to be one of the very very few people who knew about it.

Here is how our trips start out.  I arrive hours before Joan so I can play black jack.  Generally I am a leetle bit tipsy and have several of strings of mardi gras beads around my neck.  I did not disappoint.  Joan and I checked in and had lunch and wandered around a bit.

We met up with Kristel and Joan at Margaritaville which is a traditional stop for us.  Jim, whom we met for the first time on Saturday, didn't miss a beat.  He ordered up some non-latex nachos and off we went from there! 

Joan and I decided that since Jim didn't have any guys along for the wedding the three ladies took him to a strip club for a bachelor party.  Because my husband thinks I'm going to get fired because of some of the things I write in my blog, I'll just leave it at that. 

On Saturday, the newbie cab driver that got lost driving me from the airport to the hotel, picked us up at the outlets.  What are the chances of THAT?  Nine zillion cabbies in Vegas and I get the newbie with the map and GPS twice in two days!!!!

On Monday while waiting for Jim & Kristel to come downstairs for the limo, my celebrity crush, Anderson Cooper walked by.  From that point on we were on a mission.  After a beautiful wedding we pretty much tracked AC down at his broadcast booth where Kristel and Jim got warm wishes, a kiss and a handshake, from AC himself.  *swoon*

We had a fabulous dinner at Craftsteak, where apparently people willingly pay over $100 for steak.  Really?  A slab of meat?  I could buy half of a Coach for that!!!  It was delish and Kristel had always wanted to eat there, so it was perfect.

So this year's recurring topics:  strippers and Anderson Cooper.  I'm not sure we can top that next year!!!

Monday, October 10, 2011

Bullying sucks

As much as this topic is in the news these days, I can't believe how much it goes on.  For the last month or so Tommy has come home from one of the houses on the street saying he's been bullied.  This is such a hot topic these days and I know it's discussed in school.  However sometimes when he says he's been bullied, I feel like he's exaggerating and maybe it should be "bullied" in air quotes.

Today was different, he came home crying, elbow bleeding a bit and said he got a dodgeball thrown into his back, a football thrown into his face, and pushed onto the concrete.  Then he realized he had left his phone down at this kid's house and got hysterical at the thought of going back to get it.  I wasn't sure what to do and I was pissed.  I wanted to go down there and knock their heads together (I am a GREAT role model for anti-bullying) but I didn't.  I marched down there instead of flying on my broom, and I confronted them. 

The bully was actually a stranger kid, one I had never seen before.  But he looked like a typical bully.  Crew cut hair, freckles, square shaped (twice as big as Tommy, apparently a 4th grader), almost a charicature.  He looked like his name should be Butch or Buster.

He said they were playing dodgeball.  OK, 3 kids on 1 isn't dodgeball, and what a stupid game, it practically promotes bullying.  I asked what game they were playing that constituted throwing a football in Tommy's face.  No answer.  I asked what game they were playing that constituted knocking him to the cement and he said he didn't do it.  I KNOW when kids are lying, he kept denying it.  So I played a trick on him and said "what if I told you I saw you do it?"

Dead.  Silence.  I'll say right now that I did NOT see him do it and I'm not condoning lying to a child, but once he thought I did boy did he back off, apologizing all over himself.  Anyway, long story short, he lives in the neighborhood and I told him I would involve his parents if it ever happened again.  I also told Tommy to stay the EFF away from that house.  It's bad news.  The kids do whatever they want, the whole time I was yelling in their garage the dad never came out.  I speak in a shout, imagine how loud I am when I yell.

So how does this keep happening to kids?  Adults have to go to diversity training in some occupations so that they don't get in trouble for offending someone of the opposite sex, or someone of a different minority, etc.  The schools should be more involved but where are they going to get the money?  Already our school is down to a part-time librarian, they get P.E. one week out of the month (it's no wonder obesity is a problem), same with music, art and computers. 

I wish I had the answers, it's just amazing to me that it's discussed everywhere you look, but it still happens down the street on a regular basis.  Sometimes being a parent stinks.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Things that keep me up at night, Volume 1

Our son's given name is Thomas Alan Michael Dater.  Yes, he has 2 middle names.  My husband doesn't have a middle name so I thought if Tommy had two, it would bring the universe back into balance.

Lately I've been wondering if I have scarred him for life by calling him "Tommy".  Tommy was very appropriate for a new born.  Even though he was all wrinkley like an old man, calling an infant "Thomas" or "Tom" didn't feel right.  Quite honestly I don't think I was the first one to call him Tommy once he was born.  I was pretty disheveled after the whole experience and I don't think I called him anything but "Pumpkin" for a couple of days.  Once we got home he was being fussy and I remember my mom saying something like "Oh Tommy, what's the matter" and from then on that's what we called him. I guess I needed to hear someone else call him that first or something, I don't know.

So getting to my point.  He's 7 and Tommy is still appropriate.  I know my dad had all of these little old lady aunts who called him Tommy until they died.  So even as a fully grown man, he was still called Tommy.   My Grandma doesn't call him Tommy though, I wonder if she ever did?

What if Tommy doesn't want to be called Tommy when he gets older?  He has all of these friends at school and none of them have names like Mikey or Jackie or Benny.  They are all Michael and Jack and Ben.  Even his friends in the neighborhood have names like Zachary (NOT Zach), Pablo and Raphael.  When I was a kid we had kids named Billy and Scotty and Jimmy. 

Growing up my friend Julie had two brothers, Tom and Bobby.  Tom was never referred to as Tommy in my recollection, but Bobby was always Bobby.  Maybe because he was the youngest, or the baby of the family, I'm not sure.  I wonder what he's called today?  I know she reads my blog so maybe she'll let me know.

What if Tommy comes comes home one day and says "don't call me Tommy anymore, call me Tom"?  I'll tell you now that my heart will break.  But I can also understand if he doesn't want to go through high school, college and beyond as Tommy.  I just don't see him as a Tom or Thomas.  My only hope is that it doesn't happen any time soon!

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Today's blog is brought to you by Lake Avenue Inn

Thursday night is my night out with the girls.  "The Girls" are a group of women from the salon I frequent, and there just so happens to be a bar next door.  Now, this isn't the type of bar you would think a bunch of salon workers would frequent, but it's convenient, so that's where we go.  Here are some pictures of some of the other people who go to Lake Avenue Inn:

Yes, these gents really ARE wearing overalls

I really have no words for this guy

One night, some guys rode their horses over, tied them to the big tree across the street, and strolled in for some drinks.  The cook, Butch (yep, didn't make that up either), makes a mean spaghetti and meatballs, or pretty much anything Italian, so there is another draw to the place.  So now you have an idea of my Thursday night hang-out.

Every Thursday the ladies gather, and we stroll in with our high heels, designer purses, big hair, and proceed to hash out the previous week or whatever else is on our minds.  Topics have included:

Boy Scouts--There are some ladies who drop their daughters off at Girl Scouts and swing by the bar to have some drinks while their girls learn how to walk old ladies across the street.  One night after being a leetle bit over-served, I proceeded to announce to the entire place that I won't let Tommy be in the Boy Scouts because they disparage "The Gays".  I went on and on about how some old white den leader (no offense to my scout friends Eric, Russ, etc.) is more likely to do damage to your son than a gay man.  Blah blah blah.  These chicks are looking at me like, WTF, as I went on and on about "The Gays".  Come to find out, these chicks are a couple.  The one with the mullet should have tipped me off, but my gaydar sucks.

Spouses--We get a lot of mileage out of this topic.  My spouse doesn't love that I go to Happy Hour.  He thinks there is something nefarious going on, like that's where I meet up with my secret boyfriend or something.  Obviously he's never been to this place, because the NRA guys aren't my style.  One night, the stalker Ex of one of the ladies showed up and I had already gone home.  DAMN the People Hater would have loved to have gotten involved in THAT. 

Kids--The group's kids range from Tommy, who is 7, to adults with kids of their own.  This is where I pick up some of my best parenting advice.  The one thing I have learned is that as soon as Tommy's out of college he is off our payroll other wise he may drain us into bankruptcy. 

Gossip--Hanging out with a bunch of salon gals always provides tons of fodder.  I don't know why but so many of those people (not ALL!!!) are just drama.  There used to be this guy who was always at the bar, named Paul.  He was known to buy the ladies a round if he was there.  Well, he got involved with one of the salon chicks, and she literally bled the man dry, and then moved out of town with her hair extensions, puffed up lips and new wardrobe.  So ladies, if you are reading this, you better not miss a Thursday or we'll talk about you!! 

That hour and a half I spend on Thursday nights with the girls is something I really look forward to each week.  We laugh, we cry, and we support each other.  I kind of feel like we are that group of women from Steel Magnolia's and I'm Weezy!

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Perhaps my yearly birthday meltdown could have waited a week

Every year around my birthday I have a mini freak out. Nothing serious, a cartilage piercing, thoughts of a tattoo, considering Botox. This year I put purple streaks in my hair. It looks cool, I've gotten a bunch of complements this weekend.

Then I remembered I'm renewing my driver's license this week. After living with my last picture for 8 years in which I wad pregnant and had about 4 chins, I will now have purple hair for the next decade on my license. FABU.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

I think I am goingto have to break up with the Cheese Lady

I love the Cheese Lady.  She works at King Soopers in the fancy dancy cheese department.  Whenever she sees me coming she shows me where the bargain blue cheese is, or cuts me a sliver so I can have my favorite cheese and only pay a small amount.  I seriously have a crush on the Cheese Lady.

Well.  The Cheese Lady done me WRONG yesterday.  In addition to cheese she is also in charge of the olive bar, where you can buy olives, hummus, roasted red peppers, etc.  You can also buy roasted garlic there.  Adrian bought some of said garlic and ate it last night.

Oh my God people.  I thought I was going to DIE.  I'm not sure if it wasn't roasted properly, or if it was the quantity that he ate, but the stench coming off of him last night was making my eyes water.  It was literally coming out of his skin.  Just from breathing there was this green cloud hanging over his head.  I was hiding under the blankets because he kept trying to breathe on me and I couldn't take it.  He had brushed his teeth, but it didn't help, I suggested he gargle with lighter fluid.  Finally he went to the guest room to work and I told him he could only come back if he promised to not exhale. 

About 10 minutes after he left my eyes were still burning and watering and I got up and opened the windows and sprayed some room spray.  Except the garlic was so bad the spray didn't cut it and it ended up smelling like garlic and fake pineapple which is NOT a good combination.

And on top of all of that, Rhoda helped herself to something that Tommy was eating for dinner and had the stinks last night too.   I am just lucky I survived the night.  Seriously.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Second grade homework might be the end of me

Now that we are a couple of weeks into the school year, homework has started to become part of our nightly routine. Apparently the actual word "homework" has become debatable in our house:

Me: Do you have homework?

Tommy: No. But I have to finish a writing sheet that I didn't get done at school.

Me: OK, so you DO have homework.

Tommy: It's NOT HOMEWORK! It's a paper I didn't finish at school.

Me: Well, you brought WORK HOME to do, so it's HOMEWORK.

Tommy: No it's NOT!

I felt like we were having a "who's on first" conversation. I now phrase my questions differently:

Me: Tommy, did you bring any kind of work home from school that needs finished before tomorrow?

Tommy: Yes, but it's NOT homework!

Yesterday he brought home actual homework. Every week there is a packet for spelling and he has to learn the words, how to spell them and he has to write them in sentences.

I'm a little concerned. Last year one of his words was big and he wanted to write "My mommy has a big butt". I told him that wasn't appropriate, can you imagine? So far this year the words have been pretty innocent, but if he comes home with Vodka or Hookah on his spelling list I am screwed.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

I could have sworn I gave birth to a BOY

But this morning you could have fooled me. We are having some very cool weather here in Colorado and Tommy actually needed to wear pants to school today. Nana and Papa bought him some school clothes, including some new jeans. If you know my child, you know he is a toothpick. He's about a size 6 in the waist and a 10 in length so it's quite challenging to buy him long pants. My mom found some Shaun White Skinny Jeans that actually fit and bought him 3 pairs. I got them out today for him to wear. The conversation went like this:

Mom: Put on those pants. I adjusted the waist, if you need help, come find me

Here he comes and they are around his thighs. I apparently made them too tight, so I fixed them.

Tommy: These are too loose, I don't like them, they are falling down!

I tightened them again.

Tommy: I hate these pants, my underwear shows in the back.

Mom: Your shirt is long and covers the back, your underwear don't show.

Tommy: Kids will see my underwear and make fun of me!!!

Mom: No one is going to see your underwear, calm down.

Tommy: They are too loose, they are too tight, wah wah wah

Mom: They are too loose AND too tight? Explain yourself!

Tommy: They are too loose in the back and the legs are too tight I COULDN'T BEND OVER TO PUT MY SOCKS ON!!! I HATE THESE PANTS!!! NANA SHOULDN'T HAVE BOUGHT THEM!!!! I want to wear my old pants!!!

Mom: Your old pants are too short, you can't wear them.

Tommy: WELL I'LL JUST WEAR TALL SOCKS THEN!!!

Um...yeah, because THAT will eliminate the "waiting for a flood look".

Finally with some coaxing, coercion and flat out bribery, I got him to school. This afternoon when I picked him up he said "these pants feel good, Nana doesn't need to take the other pairs back".

Oh my goodness...I should count my lucky stars that he's NOT a girl!

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

An observation

I'd like to start off by saying my husband will hate this blog, so Adrian, if you're reading, turn back now. This blog is about the subject of which we do not discuss...

As you know, I'm known as Heidi Dater People Hater. People just irritate me. I’ve thought a lot about it and I might be irritated all of the time because I don’t poop. My 8-pound dog poops twice a day without fail. I’m an over grown person and I can’t go but once every 10 days or so.

Now, if you think about it that’s about 40 times a year. Can you imagine if I were a man? That just wouldn’t be acceptable. It means I would miss reading the sports page 325 days out of the year.

My mom has a friend who thinks a big dump in the bathroom is the solution to what ails you.. You have a headache? Go poop, you’ll feel better. Stressed at the office? Hit the crapper and all will be well. Mad at your husband, drop a deuce and your problems are solved. Nope, not for me.

I’ve tried everything too. More fiber, more coffee, more greens, more fruit, less iron, you name it, I’ve tried it. On a recent trip to Las Vegas I accidentally discovered Vodka is a laxative. Yep. After 11 vodka cocktails spaced out throughout the day, I had to go. It’s the witching hour, people are stumbling around drunk, missing shoes and various articles of clothing and it’s the best time to be people watching, and I’m missing it because I “have to go”.

So now I’ve found a remedy, but how feasible is it to drink 11 vodka’s each day? Even every other day? Can you imagine the drive to work, client meetings, teacher conferences? It’s a whole new reason for AA to exist. Hi, my name is Heidi D and I’m an alcoholic because I can’t poop and I use vodka as a laxative. Can I get a sponsor? Can you hear that conversation now? I’m sorry Mr. Sponsor, I really had to poop so I downed a fifth...that would be such an AA FAIL!

Monday, August 29, 2011

Tacos!!!!

It's been a rough few days. One of our clients terminated our relationship last week. It was one that I have spent a lot of time on over the last year, really giving it my best effort, so I took it kind of personally. I dwelled on it all weekend and came to the conclusion that I really did my best and I'm proud of the job we did for them.

So imagine my giddy-ness when as I am driving home my hubby texted me the one word I have been longing for...TACOS??? Whoop whoop!

You know you are jealous...

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

It's bad enough that I FEEL old...

...what, with 42 looming around the corner. As many of you know, turning 40 didn't bother me at all. However recently things have been happening lately that are making me dread my next birthday.

A few months ago I was doing OT (occupational therapy)with Tommy. When we do one of the exercises he sits on the bathroom counter so we are kind of at an even level. I am sometimes unsure of these exercises so I was really concentrating, and this is how the conversation went:

Tommy: Mommy, you have a cut in your forehead

Me: No, that would be a wrinkle (I then raise my eyebrows to make the lovely horizontal lines across my forehead)

Tommy: No, that isn't it, it goes up and down between your eyes

Me: No, that's STILL a wrinkle (as I now squish up my face to make the even lovlier vertical lines between my eyes)

Tommy: Well, it looks like a cut to me!

After that conversation I had a major complex and immediately called my friend Dr. Mike to see about some Botox. Adrian put THAT idea to rest, so I still have the wrinkles.

Well, fast forward to tonight. I go to the neighbor's house to tell Tommy it is time to come home for dinner. This is a kid that Tommy doesn't play with often so we don't know them very well. The older brother comes to the door and says "Tommy, your GRANDMA is here to pick you up".

Who whatta? GRANDMA? OK, so I'll admit, I do get my hair cut by a gal who cuts the hair of a LOT of old ladies. And I'm always concerned that I'm going to walk out of there looking like said old ladies. However usually I look pretty hip. That is until last week when Ms. Haircutter was too busy talking and pretty much scalped me. So I have really short old-lady looking hair which apparently makes me look like my own child's grandmother.

It's only Tuesday but I'm thinking a cocktail is in order. I'm off to figure out what old ladies drink while I look up Dr. Mike's phone number.

Monday, August 15, 2011

Well Hell's Bells

Welcome back from vacation. The washing machine is broken. The yard is all dried out (was there a heat wave while we were gone?). Weird work stuff. Weird husband stuff. Kiddo won't stop making this throat clearing/grunting sound (he says his throat itches).

Sometimes taking vacation isn't worth it when you come back to a bunch of fall out.

That is all. If you need me, I'll be at the coin-op laundromat.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

I love Disneyland, but I don't love all of the other people there

We just got back from a week in Southern California which included 3 days at Disneyland/California Adventure and a day at Universal Studios. If you are planning a trip there anytime soon, I have some words of advice for you.

#1--Take a cattle prod with you. If you don't have access to one, buy a light saber, sword, or magic wand--anything long and pointy will do--so that you can poke and move people out of your way.

I don't know what it is about the Happiest Place on Earth, but people lose all common sense when they arrive. The people pushing strollers will abruptly stop whilst a stampede of mouseketeers is behind them, causing a bottle neck. Groups of 3or more will all walk abreast of one another, usually holding hands and strolling at a snail's pace, meaning NO ONE can get around them. My favorite (note sarcasm) was a group of 3 people who came to a dead stop outside of Star Tours (the MOST popular attraction this summer), each pulling out a map and opening it is far as possible, to figure out where they were, or where they were going. These instances are when the cattle prod will come in most handy.

#2--Wear clothing that actually fits your body. Oh my goodness, if you are into people watching, Disneyland is THE place to be. I do not understand the phenomena of women wearing clothing several sizes too small for their bodies. This is another instance of when the cattle prod will come in handy. You can jolt all of the people who come to a dead stop to gawk at these women right out of your way.

#3--If you are young and in love, please spend the admission fees to get a hotel room instead. My child and I do not enjoy standing in line behind you while you grope and squeeze and slurp all over one another. It's Pirates of the Caribbean, NOT Love Canal.

OK, now for some serious tips:

If you have a Smart Phone, download MouseWait. THE best app for looking up wait times, seeing if rides are closed, etc. Couldn't have lived without it.

Figure out the Fast Pass system. We rode 17 rides on Friday, mainly due to these handy little passes. I'm not sure how I worked it out, but I did.

Go early, ride as much as you can, leave after lunch, go swim, take a nap, refresh, and go back around 6. When everyone is watching the parades, river shows and fireworks, you can ride lots of stuff without waiting.

Wear comfy shoes. I wore one pair in the morning and switched to something else in the evenings. I only got one blister!

Finally, if you run hot like I do, the following places are very well air conditioned: Space Mountain once you get inside the lower part, Pirates, Haunted Mansion, Soarin' Over California, and Buzz Lightyear. The number one coolest place in all of Disneyland is inside It's A Small World. You will be singing that song in your head for the rest of the week, but it's worth it for the cool air!!

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Back from a fun Girls Weekend

But honestly, sometimes it just isn't worth it to leave town. Let me preface by saying I love my husband and child. Love them dearly. But upon my return, I wanted to smack the both of them.

Hubby lost my car keys while I was gone. Not only my car key, but the house key, key to my office, key to my mom and dad's house, all my shopper tags...thank goodness I had this weird ESP thing where I grabbed the pink Coach cupcake keychain off of them before I left. They have vanished. He can't find them. My guess is they are in the garbage, where he puts everything else. I called today, $200 to replace the key and remote entry thing. I'm emailing him and bitching at him for losing them and you know what he said to me? "You didn't even look for them in the house yesterday when you got home". I swear, the man has a death wish.

Tommy apparently can't find the laundry hamper when I am gone, so I had to pick up 3 days worth of clothes. The dog drags shoes and socks around the house, so when I walked inside down the hallway was shoe, flipflop, insole from shoe, sock, croc, sock, another shoe, etc. Please note that NONE of these were mine as I put my stuff where it belongs. Not them though, and then they wonder why they can't find their shoes when it's time to put them on.

I could go on and on, but I won't, mostly because my husband would probably divorce me if I complain about him too much on my blog. Not that he actually reads my blog. Case in point...guess who still has not had any tacos???? Tap tap tap...is this thing on?

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Commuting

I have somewhat of a commute each day. About 45 minutes each way, so I'm in the car six or more hours each week. Over the past 20 years I have witnessed some crazy stuff. Let's see:

The creepy guy BRUSHING HIS TEETH behind the wheel. Gross on so many levels, where is he spitting?

People shaving. Once a guy with a razor and recently a guy using a cordless shaver.

Not long ago there was a story about a woman who got pulled over for doing some, um, personal grooming whilst driving down the interstate. Lady, either take care of your business before you leave the house, or save it for later! Gross!

Last week there was a woman clipping her fingernails at the stop light. Her window was down, but she was not throwing her clippings out. I shudder at the thought of what the floor of her car looks like. Ewww.

Once the Interstate was pretty backed up and a guy was reading a book while driving. Yep. READING. I can't sing and drive at the same time, let alone read and drive.

One of the women at work apparently applies her make-up each day on her way into the office. There is a ginormous bucket of makeup in her front seat. Now, she lives near me so she takes the highway and apparently applies her mascara, etc. You would think she looks like the bride of Frankenstein with eyeliner on her forehead and such, but she actually looks great every day. Not sure how she does it.

I recently came across the video below. Honestly. This takes the cake.
Way beyond texting and driving!

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Mister Dater, Taco Hater

Mr. Dater is either A) Not reading my blog, or B) ignoring my not so subtle reference to tacos.

I thought for sure I'd come home from a hard day at the office to Tacos for dinner on Monday. Nope. Tuesday...not a chance. Maybe he's holding out for Thursday, which is our actual anniversary. The traditional gift for 10 years SHOULD be tacos, but it's not. I looked it up.

The traditional 10-year gift is aluminum or tin. The US Modern gift is diamonds, WHICH I GOT! Thank you Mr. Dater!!!! However, a girl can dream about tacos, right?

So now I need to think of an anniversary gift for Mr. D. Aluminum or tin. A box of Reynolds Wrap? A baseball bat? Disposable pie plates? Any input will be greatly appreciated!

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Celebrating 10 years of wedded bliss this week

OK, so it hasn't all been bliss, but show me a 100% blissful marriage and I'll show you a liar! Anyone who is THAT happy all of the time is hiding something.

So anyway, I've learned a lot in the last 10 years. Here are some tid-bits:

Husbands aren't great listeners. If you are conversating with your husband and all you get in response are grunts and words that sound like "yuh", he is NOT paying attention.

I have learned to NEVER leave any items of importance on the kitchen counter because they will inevitably end up in the trash. This includes new checks from the bank, receipts, curtains, passports, magazines, wads of cash...it doesn't matter, if there is something there, it goes in the garbage. I have spent many an afternoon searching the garbage bins for instructions to the new gadget we bought, or looking for a bill that needs paid. So I hide such items, and then forget where I hid them. It's a lose-lose situation.

Men do NOT understand a woman's need to accessorize. Purses, shoes, jewelry, etc. Because they have no need for such things, neither should I.

When he asks what I want for dinner, he really isn't interested in my answer, which 9 times out of 10 is tacos. He HATES tacos. I don't know why, who hates tacos? So he asks, I say "tacos" and I end up with something like, grilled chicken. GIVE ME MY DAMN TACOS!!!!

I could go on and on, but in the interest of fairness, I'll tell you some things he has learned in the past 10 years.

Women are sneaky. He asks "where did you get those shoes/that purse/those earrings" and I reply "What? These old things? I've had them forever!!!". I have also been known to pilfer money into a secret "purse account" that he has no access to. Tee Hee.

I am a hot mess. Literally HOT all of the time, as mentioned in a previous blog. I used to be cold all of the time. Freezing, I would jack up the thermostat and he would complain, which earned him the pet name "Heat Miser". Now, ten years later, it's the opposite. I would crank the air conditioner if I knew I wouldn't have to hear him screech when the utility bill comes. He puts up with me, another reason I keep him.

I am bossy. I try to be in charge of everything. Dr. Phil always says "Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?" Well, Dr. Phil, being right makes me happy. I have backed off a bit and there are one or two things where he gets to be in charge, aside from the kitchen. He is in charge of the satellite TV and the bank accounts. Everything else is MINE.

Finally, there is Tommy, our awesome 7-year old son. He is the cutest, funniest, sassiest, smartest kid I know and we love him more than anything. If nothing else, he is ONE thing we got right, and he likes tacos too!!!

So here is to 10 years of marriage, and hopefully another 40. Stay tuned!

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Heidi Dater, CSI Evader

I like to mess with people. One day I went to Wal-Mart to buy one of those 6 cubic foot freezers for the garage. I was also buying a bunch of saran wrap for some baking I was planning to do. This old man in front of me is giving me a funny look so I say "If I chop him up just right, do you think I can get my 6-foot 5-inch husband to fit in here? I wonder if I bought enough plastic wrap?" He hustled his wife out of the store right quick.

I think I watch too many crime shows. I'm pretty sure I know how to get rid of someone without getting caught. If Dexter can buy all of that plastic sheeting and trash bags without drawing attention to himself, then I can do it, right? Really, I think about this stuff a lot, keeps me up at night. Does he go to a different Home Depot every time he makes a kill? You can't buy that much plastic wrap over and over at the same store without someone noticing. I worked a a cashier in college, I remembered whenever people would come in and buy large quantities of stuff. Like this one guy, he came in and bought HUGE quantities of toilet paper several times a week. That's all he ever bought. People notice that kind of stuff!

Another example...whenever I go to the Coach store the sales associate takes me right to the new pink items. Now, either she remembers I like pink, or the give away might be that I'm dressed like Pinky Tuscadero (you gotta be old to get this reference!).

But I digress. My point is I might make a second career out of making people "disappear". So call me, I can help.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Proud Mommy Moment

Over the weekend I experienced something that is weird and cool all at the same time. My kiddo, Tommy, can do something that I can not do. He can SWIM.

I don't swim. I can't swim. My parents did their due diligence and had me in lessons, but I was a freak and hated every second of it. I literally can't do it. In my twenties I took lessons at the Y and made zero progress.

First of all, I don't like water. I don't like to be wet, I don't like to get splashed, none of that. Secondly, I'm a sinker, not a floater. I don't float. I don't know if my legs are too long or what but when I try to float on my back, my legs sink and drag along the bottom of the pool. If I am really really desperate, I will hop in the pool to cool off, but that happens about once a decade. I just don't like it.

Because of my pool phobia (hydrophobia, I looked it up!) I wanted to make sure Tommy learned to swim. It didn't start off well and we gave up in the middle of the first session. The next year I tried again and I almost grabbed him and ran when he started to cry. That's when I met Jorna, who is now a very good friend. She kept me calm that day, and it got easier every time we went.

Now, just a few years later, he's almost done with lessons. Last night he started a new level and that little booger swam the entire length of the pool several times, doing several different strokes. Crawl, back stroke, some other weird stroke that I can't name, and he can tread water.

Maybe he'll be the next Michael Phelps???

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Heidi Dater Hormone Hater

Menopause is a beyotch. If you haven't been lucky enough to experience it for yourself, let me warn you about the hot flashes, night sweats, hormonal rages, forgetfulness, weight gain and *vaginal dryness*

I'm convinced the divorce rate of menopausal women must be ginormous. Honestly, I wouldn't blame my hubby for tossing me out on my can because I am such a hot mess.

Let me tell you about hot flashes. You are cruising along just fine and the next thing you are hotter than hell and sweating profusely. One day I'm at Wal-Mart checking out. Not exerting any energy, sweat pouring off of me. My summer wardrobe s my winter wardrobe. Tanktops in Colorado in a blizzard...no problem. Just call me Sweaty Betty.

Sharing a bed with my hubby is a problem. In the middle of winter I have all of the bed covers off and a fan blowing on me whilst he's under 4 fleece blankets.

The moods are brutal too. One night I ripped Adrian a new one because he tore a hole in the tortilla bag in instead of opening it neatly along the zip lock thingy. I lost my mind. He looked at me like I had 2 heads. My head is spinning around, and I know I'm being crazy, but I can't make it stop.

Here is the thing, men just apparently aren't that smart. A few nights later, another annihilated tortilla bag--he must REALLY be in a hurry to eat those tortillas. Lost my ever loving mind again. He'll never learn. I'll show him. It'll be a cold day (and since I am always HOT, that translates to NEVER) before I buy tortillas again!

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Generally I am known as the People Hater

Today I am Heidi Dater Mother-EFFING-Garage-Door-HATER. Seriously, how can one household device be such the bane of my existence?

It all started when the batteries went dead so I replaced them. Then only one opener could be programmed to open the door, and the keypad wouldn't program. Naturally, being the Handy Mandy in our household, I kept the programmed remote for myself, leaving Adrian to push the button and run to hop the sensor every time he left the house.

So the new circuit board arrived and I installed it myself. It was only 9,000 degrees in the garage last night and I was sweating bullets. Got the board on there, was reconnecting these stupid wires that kept breaking. Took for focking ever. Finally got it all set, programmed my remote and SUCCESS! Attached it to the visor in my car woo hoo! Adrian's remote? Not-so-much. Can't get it programmed. Mother Trucker. Got the keypad programmed, I'll take two out of three. Saved $100 visit from the garage door guy.

Fast forward to this morning. Go to leave. My opener is GONE. Poof. Into thin air. Or the juvenile delinquents who stole my flamingos also helped themselves to my garage door opener. FOCK. So I drop off the kiddo, go back to the house, erase all the codes, bolt all the doors. They got my flamingos, they aren't getting anything else from me!

So I am back to square one. Oh, and did I mention when I left the first time I went to close the door with the keypad, and it didn't work??????? What's that garage door guy's number again?