C’Mon Ride That Train… October 30, 2008

When I’m driving my train of thoughts, I’m usually surpised by where it takes me.

For example, driving back from my son’s preschool, I was thinking about how my ex mother-in-law is moving back home from Florida…which is going to be a HUGE blog post, in and of itself, when I can put into word how I am going to feel about this…

Anyway…

Thinking about her led me to an elementary school…6th grade, I think…memory.

There was this boy, David, that I was friends with.  He was a genius.  In 6th grade, during our math time, his mother would come and take him to the community college to take a math class there.  Yeah, THAT smart.

So…

We used to play together at recess.  Us and a kagillion other 6th graders.

One day, David announced that he was starting a club called…

The TWAT club.

Uh-huh…the TWAT club.

And we were all in it.  The TWAT club.

None of us knew what it meant.

We ran around the playground calling everyone that name.

We called each other that name.

Thank goodness we didn’t call our teacher that name.

After a few days of the TWAT clubs inception, our principal caught wind of this group.

And…

she called us all down to the office.

There were about 10 of us crammed into Principals small office.  Feeling very uncomfortable.  And not knowing exactly what it is that we had done wrong.

She looked around the room.  And then asked us if we knew what the word twat meant.

None of us claimed to know…

except David.  The founder of our little club.

And…she had him tell us what it meant.

We were all SHOCKED.

She asked him, if he knew what it meant then how was it that he had started this club…

And he said something like, “Because I knew that no one else knew what it meant.  And…I thought it was a funny word.”

We had to apologize to everyone who we had called twat.  And…David had to apologize to us for leading us astray.

So…while my train led me from my (twat) ex-mother-in-law…to the 6th grade memory…

I started thinking about how easily someone who knows just a little bit more than someone else…can be blindly followed.

We FOLLOWED this kid.  Because we thought it was a funny word too.  And NONE of us chose to find out what the word meant.  Not one of us asked.  We didn’t care.  It didn’t matter.  Because…we had a private club and we were cool.

But…

when you follow.  And you are completely ignorant to what it is that you are following…

then you really are in the Twat Club.

Somehow, I’m going to have to change the wording and use this as an example for my kids.  To NOT be a follower.  To follow YOUR OWN inner voice…

To start your own club and not join the twat club!!

On Being a (Room) Mother… October 29, 2008

At the begining of the school year, my 5th grade daughter brought home a packet for parents.  In this packet was a bunch of sheets calling for parental volunteers.

So…because I have only one child left in the elementary school…

I signed them.

I figured, with only one kid in the elementary school…so much easier to volunteer my time!  Right?!

Besides, I ASSUMED that so many other parents would want to be active and volunteer.  Right?

And…when I signed up to be Room Mother…I figured that ALL the other moms would be signing up too…and the chances would be slim to none for me.  Right?

And…when I signed up to be the Picture Lady…I figured that ALL the other moms would be signing up too…and the chances would be slim to none for me.  Right?

WRONG!  WRONG!  WRONG!!

But did I ever get an email informing me of my postition as room mother?  NOPE!

Did I ever get an email informing me of my postition as ArtSmart Lady?  NOPE!

I found out I was room mother because my daughter started bringing me money and checks for the class parties.

I found out about ArtSmart when I got an email confirming the time I’d make an appearance.

Well…

It’s all fine and good.

I pulled myself together.

I did a presentation on Faith Ringold for the 5th graders.  I SUCKED!!

I’m planning a Halloween party.   Not completely planned yet because…

I SUCK!!

And yeah…I know…Halloween is Friday.  Don’t fret.  I’m good under pressure.  Even though it’ll SUCK!!

But.

My daughter is so excited that I’m the HEAD Room Mother.

And the stinking Picture Lady.

Just like I used to be so excited when my mom was the Room Mother.

AND…the Picture Lady.

Just like my daughters children will be excited for her to be involved in their school.

And that is REALLY what it’s all about.

The little things.

To make your children happy.

Even if you think you suck at it.

Your children think you’re wonderful.

And it makes them proud.  And it makes them happy.

And they are able to look back on their childhood and see that you cared.  Because…you were an active participant in their life!

That, to me…is why I didn’t complain about not being informed in a proper fashion.  Because my daughter…is so excited.  And proud.  And happy.

And that…is what it’s all about!

You Can’t Teach An Old Bitch New Tricks… October 25, 2008

Once upon a time there was a Mommy dog.  We’ll call her…um…Bee Atch.

Well, Bee Atch had a litter of five puppies.  And she controlled these puppies with an electronic collar and a remote controlled zapper.   These puppies knew not to mess with Mommy Bee Atch or they would be zapped…bad.

The puppies grew into mature dogs.  With major issues.

Some of them went on to have litters of their own.

But Bee Atch made sure those electronic collars NEVER were removed.  And every time she thought her grown puppies were getting out of line…she zapped them.  And they would whimper.  Then do what they thought Bee Atch wanted them to do.

So…one puppy…er…mature stud…had a litter with one stray dog.  That litter produced two mutts.  But…the pairing didn’t last.   Because…once a stray dog, always a stray dog.

Anyway…

That stud went on to meet Pedigree.  She had two purebred pups from her first litter.

Pedigree the purebred and the mature stud decided to mate for life.  And…then they had a litter together.  One little purebred pup.

But Bee Atch wasn’t happy.

Her black sheep dog child.  How dare he have more puppies.  With a PEDIGREE!!

So…Bee Atch decided…she would punish her puppy…er…mature stud…

by withholding affection and spoiling from the purebred puppy that his second mating had produced.

One day, she took the Mutts shopping…

Lavishly bestowing winter clothing and boots and socks and pants and…well…everything…upon them.

After this shopping spree at Mutts “R” Us…she returned to her son’s den.  Ladened down with packages.

Marked “For Mutts Use Only!”

Then…she turned her nose up at the first two purebred children from the pedigree Mommy doggys first mating.

And…

She patted the top of the newest puppies head.

And told him that she thought his fur cut looked nice.

She did not care that his pants were flood-ish on him.

She did not care that he needed boots and a winter jacket to keep his poor little paws from frost bite.

Bee Atch…does NOT CARE about this little pup.  Because she DID NOT want him.  She DOES NOT want him.

Bee Atch…

is a BEEATCH.

So little Pedigree Pup…

doesn’t even give Bee Atch a nose rub…or even a leg hump or even a raised eyebrow or ear wiggle…

But the sad thing is…

Little Pedigree Pup was invited to go with his Pedigree Grandparents.

And Little Pedigree Pup, because of how he is treated by Bee Atch…

wanted to know…

if he Pedigree Grandparents REALLY wanted him to go with them.

Because he is used to Bee Atch and her treatment towards him.

So Pedigree Mommy rubbed noses with Pedigree Pup and assured him that his Pedigree Grandparents…

LOVE and ADORE him and…

they really, really want to take him with them to a Puppy Halloween Party.

And just because Bee Atch is a beeatch, it doesn’t mean that all grandparents are like that!!

So Pedigree Pup shook his tail.  And is in search of his Ninja Pup costume.

To head out with Pedigree Grandparents that care about him.  And will rub noses with him.  And scratch his itchy tail.  And minds that his pants are floods.  And get upset if his paws get frost bite.

Because Pedigrees are NOTHING like Beatches!

edit…

Feelings were hurt by the term Mutts.  No malicious intent was there by the usage of this term.  It was the only word I could think of at the particular moment.  So…my apologies.  So substitute the word Mutt for…oh, I don’t know…any type of dog you can think of…OK?  Again…my apologies to Mature Stud Puppy.

A Not So Desperate Housewife…The Sequel… October 24, 2008

Our last episode left the Suburban HOT housewife telling the lawn guy to blow it out his hole…well kinda anyway…

Who woulda thunk that there was going to be a sequel?  Well…apparently our landscaper has a bit of a something or another for this Suburban Momma.

Arriving home from work, I jumped out of my car and headed towards the door.  I wanted to grab a Coke Zero from the fridge before zipping off again to collect the muchkin from preschool.

The landscaper was parked at the other end of the circular driveway…and was mowing the lawn.

When he saw me, he shut off the mower and yelled out…

“Do you have a check for me?”

I replied…

“Sure…if you want a super ball for a check.  But…I promise to pay you next week.”  Then, being a smart ass…”Do you have any money for me…I saw some cute boots I wanted.”

He laughed.  “No one is paying me this week.”

“Sucks to be you.”  I said.

“Well…we can work out OUR bill.  I’ll take it in trade.”

Huh?

He wants a service for a service, right?  I mean…I AM assuming.  And you know what they say about people who assume things!!

So, I said…

“Sure.  How about…I’ll make you one of my crocheted purses or perhaps…a neckwarmer?  And then we’ll call it even.”

“NOT what I meant.”  he laughed, and turned away,  ready to go back to his business of fall clean-up.

Well…seeing as that is the only type of service that I am willing to offer…I guess he’s going to have to wait on payment.

I told my husband.  About this event.  And the previous one.  He laughed and said that the lawn guy is just joking around with me.

But I’m guessing if I said yes to any of these little propositions…he would, MOST DEFINITELY, prove that he is not joking.

Not about to find out though.

Besides…he isn’t very good with the bushes!

The Preschool Rebel Without A Stupid Cause… October 23, 2008

My youngest son.

My little male chauvanist pig.

My little dark prince.

He got himself into some serious trouble with the powers that be, yesterday.

Oh yeah…I’m harboring a soon-to-be criminal.

A real rebel.

Without a cause.

So…anyway.

His teacher.  His “boss”.

She comes to my car while I was waiting in the fancy, schmancy carpool line.

“I just wanted to let you know…he wouldn’t help clean up.”

I raise my eyebrow…well…I TRIED to only raise one eyebrow but sadly…the only thing I can do is wiggle my ears.  Somehow…that doesn’t impress…

I said, “Oh…”  very matter-of-factly.  Because…I knew where this was going.  He lives with me…I KNOW this kid!!

“Actually…if truth be told…he NEVER helps clean up.  He always claims a handicap.  His leg.  His hand.”

Me…I tried not to laugh because, like I said…HELLOOOO!!

“So, ” she continued “I told him that if he didn’t help to clean up, he wouldn’t be able to go outside to play with the rest of the kids.”

“Let me guess…he still didn’t help!”

“Well…he decided that he would help.  After everything was cleaned up.  So…I kept him in.  He hates me right now.  I just wanted to make you aware because…well…he IS NOT happy.”

Then…they brought him out to me.

He climbed into the car.

He buckled himself in.

Then…he collapsed.  His little face…it started quivering.  And tears started flowing…

“They wouldn’t let me play outside.”  He sobbed.

“And why not?”  I asked, trying not to let my maternal instinct kick in…and go beat up those who made my son cry…

“I didn’t help clean up.  So…I hate them.  They suck.”  He said.

“Well, next time they ask you to clean up.  And they threaten to not let you play outside…what are you going to do?”  I asked him…wondering if a lesson had, by some miracle, been learned.

“I’ll help.  But…I’ll only put ONE toy away.  Because they have bad toys.  Their toys are stupid, anyway!!”

And then he was done.  He started telling me about all the kids that are stupid and bad and dumb and he hates.  Because they only want to play stupid games with the stupid toys.  And no one wants to play super heroes so they are all stupid.

The whole ride home…that’s what I heard about but…

When we FINALLY got home…

You know what he did?

He went upstairs to his room…

He noticed that it was still a mess from the morning destruction.

And…

he cleaned!!

By himself!

Without anyone telling him to.

So…apparently…a lesson was learned.

Well…at least for yesterday.

Who knows about today.

I’m hoping he didn’t get in trouble again today…

for dumping the toys that he thinks are stupid over the heads of the kids that he thinks are stupid…

my little dark, chauvinist rebel without a cause…

The Mountain Was Moved To The Molehill…Or So It Seems… October 22, 2008

Yesterday I told you about my daughters side of the room.

Yeah.  OK.  So much for me being tough.

She came home from her basketball game.

She went to dinner with her mother.

She came home and did her homework…

And then…she headed upstairs.

She took one look at her bed and started to cry.

And she started to complain about how tired she was.

And she asked…”Can I just move everything over to the side and go to bed?”

I folded my arms over my chest, tapped my foot upon the carpeted floor, shook my head and said,

“Absolutely NOT!”

Then, thinking she was going to take care of her stuff…like I so nicely had asked her…I left the room and went about my motherly duties.

MY BAD!

My first mistake was…

leaving the room.

My second mistake was…

not going back in that room until much, much too late.

Because…

She did not move things over to the side…

Not exactly.

She moved everything to the floor.

And there it stays…

Because today,

Right now…

she has her last basketball game.

And then,

she is going shopping with her Bubbie to get some more stuff that she can leave in that heap of shit on the floor.

And then,

she will come home to do her homework.

And perhaps,

after all that…and a shower…

Maybe,

She will move that pile that had started out under and around her bed…

and then it moved to the top of her bed…

and now it’s on her floor…

Maybe it will end up…

EXACTLY

WHERE

IT

STARTED!!

All over her stinking bedroom.

SIGH

do you see that one picture?  The one that is neat and tidy?  THAT…is my other daughter.   The poor thing.  Her sanity…her very existence…is being threatened.  She is a mere tiny little thing.  And…we may never see her again if the mess spills onto the LIGHT side.  I think I may have to buy a life jacket…and an inflatable life raft…

You never can be too safe!

Is This A Mountain Or A Molehill? October 21, 2008

You have been claiming, my darling daughter, that you have no clothes.

You complain.

You whine.

You claim neglect.

And when all else fails…

you call your Bubbie to take you shopping.

Every time you leave this house with your Bubbie or your Mother…you come home with new clothes.

And…

somehow…

they disappear.  Mysteriously.

So I did a little investigation.

I went into YOUR SIDE of the bedroom…the DARK SIDE.

I HEARD no creepy music.

I SAW no scary, clothes stealing monsters.

I SMELLED no fabric burning chemicals.

I simply TOUCHED the crap under your bed.

I pulled out things from the bags hanging on your bed post.

I unclogged under your mattress.

I unstuck things from the carpet from the deepest recesses of under your bed…

and…

everything…

EVERYTHING…

I found…

is right here, on top of your bed.

So guess what?

Someone is going to be learning how to be a laundress.

And…

Someone is going to learn how to be a garbage man.

And…

Someone is going to learn how to be a carpet cleaner.

And that someone…

it’s not me.

It’s NOT your sister, with whom you share this room…

It’s YOU.

So…finish your snack.

And your homework.

Because you have a TON of work to do!

These pics were taken with my camera phone and I can’t make them bigger.  So…look closely.  Because this is, what used to be, my daughters bed.  Now it’s a garbage dump!

Are You There God, It’s Me Melissa… October 20, 2008

Hey God,

I need to discuss something with you.

I know what you’re thinking.  How can someone who so adamantly doesn’t believe in you want to talk to you?  Well…because.

Because I have tried REALLY hard to believe in you.

And I almost did.  Once.  After the bleeding incident.

But…due to life circumstances, I began to believe that I’m still around…not because of you but…because I was under good doctor care.  Sorry.

But…

I’m struggling here.

Did you NOT notice?

I’m struggling on so many levels with my life.

So…while I’m struggling.  And trying to do what it is that I need to do.  I’m waiting for some sort of sign to prove that you really do exist.

But…

Nothing.  I’ve gotten…NOTHING.

And…right now…I could really use you.

But it’s really difficult to believe in something that isn’t tangible.  So…I really would like some sort of sign.

What kind of sign, you ask.

Oh, I don’t know…

A yes from one of the literary agents.

Or…

A few sales.

Or…

My children to not give me problems for a WHOLE WEEK.

Or…

My husband to not be such an asshole anymore.

SOMETHING.

Because…I really need some help here.

AND…

Temple isn’t making it any easier to believe in you.

Their bottom line is about our dues.

Not about our privilege…our RIGHT… to practice our religion.

And…because we couldn’t pay our dues…

we weren’t allowed tickets to the High Holy Day Services…

and our childrens religious education is being threatened!

I know!  A crock, right!?

And…

There is NO ONE to go and talk to there.

So…

please.

C’mon…give a girl a sign.  I’m not asking for much.

Just…a sign.

So that I know that you’re there.

So that I can have some sort of comfort.

Because, right now…

I just don’t.

Right now…

I’m achy.  And sad.  And miserable.

And so lost.

So…if you really do exist.   And you’re in the mood to prove it.

I’m waiting.

Thank you in advance for your cooperation in attending to this matter.

MBB

Thursdays Thought…A Mini Poem… October 16, 2008

Sometimes…
I feel like
I’m suffocating
in the burden
of
YOUR
life

The Day I Realized I Passed My Prime… October 15, 2008

I stopped thinking about sex constantly and started thinking about how to pay my bills…CONSTANTLY.

It is sooooo much more fun to think about sex.

SIGH