Random Thoughts Monday

Today's post is entitled Random Thoughts Monday because I don't have anything that cheerful to say. Sadie's lost a few ounces and no matter how hard we try, I can't get her to gain weight and it's becoming a constant source of stress. But let's cheer up and talk about other things - little things. And due to the randomness of today's post, it will not be repeated on any subsequent Mondays. Because it's random. Get it? Random.

1. Hootie and the Blowfish: they had the one song "Hold My Hand" remember? Well, it came on my satellite radio yesterday and for a brief moment, I couldn't quite place it -- and then--oh yeah, Hootie. It's not a bad song. When exactly did they become the Dane Cook of music? We all hate Hootie but I can't exactly remember why they're such hacks. I'm a comedian so I know why Dane Cook's success is so offensive -with his ridiculous hand gesture and over physicalized no joke making rants - but maybe because I'm not a musician, I don't know why we all en mass decided to boot Hootie and his Blowfish crew out of our collective Ipods and stereos. Not that I'm going to ever listen to them. I'm just saying. Thoughts?


2. Sex And the City Movie: in a word: suckassery. I thought I would like it because I was one of those women who loved the series, but no, sorry, it was horrible. And what was with Jennifer Hudson's acting? Is she a robot? She doesn't look like a robot but I've never heard a real live person deliver lines as if a computer designed the voice and facial expressions to go along with the over the top dialogue. Carrie: You saved my life. Louise: You gave me Louise Vuitton. Me: Vomit.


3. The Baby Borrowers: did you see it? Good concept that has already jumped the shark because of how far they're taking it. Young couples borrow babies? Sure, I'm with you so far. Young couples borrow toddlers? Okaay, still here. Young couples borrow teenagers? You lost me. By the time the young couples' kids are teengers they're not going to be young parents anymore. Young couples take care of old people? Now I want to punch the producers in the head. Not watching.


4. I've never ever ever dreamed of swimming with dolphins. How do people come up with this as one of their life's major goals?

5. John Mayer...why? I know, I know, I too enjoy a few of his songs in spite of myself. But, the man is oozing women hating toxins all over the place. From his drunken tirade in the Laugh Factory where he claimed to have "fucked Jennifer Love Hewitt" to his constant vitriol about his famous exes on his blog, he is a one man band of gross. What part of that interests Jennifer Aniston?

6. Why is it impossible to buy a cool minivan? It's like, as soon as you need a car that can cart a shitload of kids around, the car makers assume you've given up on having any semblance of personality whatsoever. We were forced to make our own brand of cool and it doesn't involve bumper stickers. And yeah, the flames are magnetic. It's a lease.



that's Elby saying "yeah, el fuego, bitches!"

Does Maury Povitch Make Any Small Baby Shows?

My little Sadie has been getting some extra help. We have been lucky enough to score some benefits through the Regional Center which is a program that helps children at risk to have developmental issues. We've so far had an OT visit, a developmental assessment -which went fine- as far as right now she seems on track for a baby who's been through as much trauma as she has and who was born so small. But yesterday we had a visit from a nutrutionist and Sadie, for the first time, had actually lost weight. A few weeks ago she was 10 lbs. 12 oz. and now she's 10 lbs. 10 oz. It was upsetting. But, we were told not to worry.

We're going to up the concentration in her formula and try to give her solids even more often. This morning was operation "get the beeyotch to enjoy some tasty avocado." It immediately went horribly awry when, as soon as she got a taste of the "so high in healthy oils and fats" treat, she make a face like I'd just given her a whole chicken liver and projectile vomited all over me and her newly washed bouncy seat. Maybe if I'd added onions, cilantro, garlic and lemon juice she would've totally got why people eat this stuff.

Here's the good news. The nutritionist took measurments of her whole body and apparently -I don't want to brag- but her upper arm circumference is in the upper percentile for her corrected age. Oh yeah, my tiny future Ultimate Fighting champion is getting herself ready to throw down.

Private Moment Interruptus

So it's like, I don't know exactly, maybe 10 p.m. and I'm mixing up a little formula for the overnight feeds and maybe throwing a pot in the dishwasher, you know, mom shit, right? As I'm doing this I mindlessly slap myself on the ass. Yeah, you read that right. I slapped my own ass - maybe more than once. I believe I had a particularly raunchy rap song in my head at the time - Jay Z's I got 99 Problems But a Bitch Ain't One - so yeah, I'm giving myself a couple of ass smacks when I look up and see that my kitchen window is wide open and the neighbor happens to be standing in his kitchen which looks directly into mine. I thank God he didn't wave. We caught eyes and then looked away immediately. Did I mention that he's a rabbi? I'm not kidding. It was ever so slightly embarrassing.

My bud, Suzy, over at Where Hot Comes To Die is doing a contest where she is giving away one of my books. Well, in actuality, I am giving the book away. But she is putting on a contest. Hey, I'll take the free publicity.

Love ya, mean it.

Evolution vs. Creationism: We Have a Winner

Case closed.

********************************************************************************* "Oh my God! Have you seen Baby On Bored? That's the blogger that compared her baby to an orangutan. Can you believe that? She obviously doesn't love her child."

"Well, maybe she thinks orangutans are really cute and she thinks her baby is cute but she happens to think they sort of look alike and she thought it would be humerous to point that out."

"Nope. She just hates children. If she loved her child she would have a license plate frame that says Three Kids is Triple the Fun! or she'd write posts about how "crazy" and "chaotic" but absolutely joyful her life is. But she certainly wouldn't write books that trash motherhood!"

"Hang on a minute. I kind of thought her books were funny. And I didn't exactly get that she was trashing motherhood at all. In fact, I thought she seemed to love being a mom but just enjoys pointing out the occasional shitty parts and the ridiculousness of it."

"No. Funny is a mug that says "Don't bother me til I've had my coffee." It's not funny to make fun of being a mom."

"I don't agree. I like a little edge. Each to their own. Plus I hear she volunteers for the Peace Corp. and that she recently went to Uganda to try and cure AIDS. "

"I think that you're going straight to hell."

"Me?"

"Yes you. I bet you not only like those books but you're voting for Obama too."

You're Never Too Young For Princesses

I think that Elby may be a bad influence on her little sister, Fatty Matty. It's bad enough that I caught her out back giving Sadie a tug off her Marlboro Light but now I come home to find this!



No Mattie No! Please, no princess attire until you're at least two-years-old. My God they start young these days.

Is This an Overshare?

One thing that a lot of people don’t tell you about having a baby is how much it will change your life and by life, I mean breasts.
When I had my Elby, I managed to breast feed for about four minutes before realizing that, having had a breast reduction operation twenty years prior, my baby feeders weren’t able to sustain a life force as hungry as my child. But with the preemie twins I made a more concerted effort and pumped every hour while they were in the NICU – even though I wasn’t producing enough milk to sustain a gerbil, I felt I was at least doing something.
I’m not sure the added nutrients have had much effect on the babies but I will tell you that the pumping had a pretty negative effect on my once buoyant bazoombas. Sure my breasts are a the same size but the problem seems to be more the lack of any solid mass. Putting on a bra is like trying to contain pudding in a picket fence. There is spillage everywhere. It’s coming over the top and when I try to manage that, some boob sneaks out the side. What’s the deal? Do they make special bras for women that have this problem? Because at this point in my life, a mere underwire will no longer cut it. I need a babygate for boobs. And surgery is completely out of the question…at least until I get some Botox. First things first.

Weekend Recommend

People think I'm opposed to others who are crafty. This is so not the case. I'm just so uncrafty and simply uninterested in becoming crafty that my attitude may come across as derisive. Hey, if I could handcraft a tea kettle cozy while waiting for my turn at the dentist, maybe I would. But I can't. So I don't. My feeling is, I'm over forty years old and so far I've never once lustily eyed a spool of yarn and thought oh the things I could do with you Senor String! How you tease me from your shelf at JoAnnes - I am so bringing you and all of your yarny friends home with me and we'll do stuff. Oh yeah! No, that's just not me. Hell, I can barely wrap a gift acceptably. I'm just happy those gift bags are so in style although my ability to work with colorful tissue paper is a bit pathetic.

But in Naptime, I mention my friend Crafty Susan quite a bit because she has a way with fabric, cooking, decorating, gluing and working with things you'd buy at Michael's. Her real name is Shannon and she is seriously quite cool. She finally decided to cash in on her talents and has opened her own webstore with stuff for hip kids which I think everyone should check out. Why not? It's Sunday.

Shannon's cute online store

Also, here's another blog I recommend. I can't help it, sometimes someone who is witty and opinionated just strikes me and I have to give them a little shout out. Go back in her archives to read her opinions on religion and gay marriage. I found myself fascinated for a few hours. She also has some group called allmediocre of bloggers which, of course I haven't been invited to join because no one ever invites me to anything blogwise. But that's okay. I'll survive in my passive aggressive way. http://www.amomtwoboys.com/

Please Don't Eat All the Tostitos

You know your life has gone completely off the rails when you hear yourself say the phrase "Honey, please don't eat all the Tostitos. Those are for the nanny." Really? Has my life come down to policing the eating of snack foods so I won't have to rebuy them for Jaguar. Oh, I forgot to tell you guys that my nanny once did a little play acting thing with Elby's Diego figurines where she, as the baby Jaguar, asked Diego if she was going to get fired. She did it all in third person and it was pretty humorous (can you see me hiring someone who wasn't funny?). So, I've called her Jaguar ever since. I think she likes it. I mean, sure, she cries wet salty tears when I call her that but I can read between the lines. Anyway, the Jaguar likes Tostitos. And I'm very lucky to have the Jaguar so you bet your sweet ass I'm going to make sure there are Tostitos in the house.

So if you're wondering what's up with Sadie, well, I'll tell you. And If you're not wondering, then just stop reading now and feel very bad about yourself. Both babies have been sick again due to one preschooler who catches colds like a swinger catches STDs. They both sounded like crap for awhile so the other day I took them in to see the doctor and it turns out...they both have ear infections again. Hello Amoxicillan, goodbye endless crying...hopefully. But we did find out while we were there that Sadie now weighs a whopping 10 lbs. 8 oz. up from 9 lb 12 oz. 20 days ago. I'm thinking, if I can keep her healthy, maybe she'll bulk up to like 15 lbs. by the time she's a year. I don't even think of her as dangerously tiny anymore. I just think of her as fashionably thin and so lucky she can wear almost anything in her closet! Matilda is almost 15 pounds - up from 4 at birth! Oh, and my pediatrician's office gave me like three hundred dollars worth of formula. So now, at least I don't have to worry about the babies eating all the Tostitos.

Walt Disney Has Some Explaining To Do

In an effort to show Elby that she is still king of the castle figuratively and literally, her daddy and I decided to take her to the magical place where dreams and wishes come true - Disneyland. The only condition was that she remember that she is two years old. "No, I'm three!" "Not today you're not! Let me see your game face!" Apparently once you turn three, Disneyland thinks you're going to be having sixty bucks worth of fun but until then, you're still luggage.

Our scheme kind of reminded me of when I was sixteen and trying to get into bars with a welfare ID given to me by a coworker at Burger King. I always felt a little nervous that I wouldn't pass for Dawn, twenty-six year old single mother of two on the dole. But it worked nine times out of ten. Ah, memories. The entrance to Mouseville went down smoothly. Once in, we headed immediately to the Princess Pavilion. Problem one: the line to have a short meet and greet with the Princesses (and I use that term loosely because is Pocahontas officially royalty or does she just wear a cute dress?) was over an hour long. But we waited because E desperately wanted to meet Ariel. She looooves Ariel. The other princesses are okay in her book but Ariel is the sweet spot. Finally, I let Jon hold our place in line and I went to investigate just what was in store for us after our wait. Turns out, Ariel is not even in the Princess Pavilion. She resided in a cove on the other side of the Matterhorn. So we grabbed Elby and dragged her meet her muse.

Is it just my imagination or did Disneyland used to be totally different? Characters would be running around the park on a constant basis. You couldn't walk five feet without slamming into a Goofy or Eeyore. The Princesses were friendly in the days of yore and would walk right up to you and eat out of your hand. Now everything is just for the photo op. You have to wait in a long line to meet every character. The longest line was to meet the Godfather of mice, Mickey. We had to wind all around Mickey's fun house and watch old Mickey movies and after about fifty minutes, Elby got to shyly kneel at the at the big mouse's feet and say hi.

Get this, the fucker doesn't even talk. He's like an over sized mime. Was that from like silent movie Mickey days? I don't get it. And why do they have only one of every character? We didn't get to meet Buzz Lightyear because "he was going on break!" Would kill them to have another guy in a Buzz Lightyear costume run around yelling "To infinity and beyond"? The whole thing is that they try to get you to buy photo cards so that they take your photo and then you buy it online. As if everyone and their cat doesn't have a quality camera at this point.

The Teacups ride was a big hit. But, just a tip: this ride exists at my local mall. Elby likes it just as much there. Then we went on Alice in Wonderland which scared the shit out of her. We had to promise her like a hundred times on the way home that she wouldn't have to go under any "tunnels where people do silly things and it's very loud and scary."

And then we were off for a mellow face painting which is another thing that can be accomplished without driving all the way to Disneyland.

Then we had lunch. This is Elby looking at the menu. "A chicken sandwich is HOW MUCH?"

The thing E liked best? Getting a princess hat at the end! I know I sound cynical. And I am. Disneyland is not like I remember in my childish haze. But, it was worth every Euro - oh yeah, did I mention we flew to Paris Disney?

Elby had an amazing time and I fell in love with her smile and enthusiasm and humor over and over again. I loved that it was just the three of us. And I hadn't seen her look this content in a long time.

The Heartbreak Kid

My little Elby was a disastrous pill all weekend. I simply couldn't understand why she whined so constantly and could not make a request for something as simple as juice without going straight to tears as if, unless she cried, we'd say, "Juice? Have you gone completely insane? What gives you the impression that your dad or I would want to get off this couch to help you quench your thirst? You want us to actually parent you and get you something to drink?" I found myself getting more and more frustrated. Why so much crying? What happened to my sparkly little spitfire who used to be full of funny and smiles?

So last night, it came to a head when, while getting her hair washed, Elby screamed as if rather than lathering a little Suave Watermelon Kids No Tears shampoo in her hair, we were washing her mouth out with turpentine. I was done. Seriously done. So when tears came at which nightgown she was going to wear, she got a time-out. I made her sit on her bed for three minutes and she wasn't allowed to cry for the last minute or it had to start again. We counted to sixty together after she'd stopped crying and when she came out of her room she was much improved. Of course, the babies were still screaming as they had been for two days. And then it finally hit me what was going on all weekend.

This morning we had a talk. I picked her up from where she was lying on the floor with her purple blanket and carried her around the house like a baby and asked her if she missed being mommy's little baby. She nodded her head emphatically no. But we sat on her bed together and I asked her again. Her eyes started to tear and she actually tried not to cry. I held her. "It's okay to feel sad that there are two babies in the house all the time and you, my big girl, don't get enough attention. It's okay to wish you were still the baby." She threw her arms around me and put her head into my chest -which felt tighter than a fist from the lethal combination of guilt, love, anxiety and the knowledge that I will never be able to give her as much as I want now that I have two more children. I hugged her so hard and tried not to cry myself. I promised to try harder to spend a little extra time with her and promised her it would get easier as the babies grow. Was I lying? I hope I wasn't. I miss my baby girl. And then, on the way to school, she laughed and sang along with the soundtrack to "Once" and I felt like at least for this brief moment, it was just the two of us, and I had her back.

Okay, do yourselves a favor and check out my new favorite blogger Black Hockey Jesus. I really want to feel like I discovered him! He's just hilarious and intelligent and different. Read through a few entries and you will totally see what I mean. His blog is called The Wind In Your Vagina. See? Already funny. And maybe you could leave him a little comment. Cause he's sort of new. Remember when you were new and needed feedback?