Thursday, May 28, 2009

Where's the Queen?

I've hacked into some other blogger's blog and I've taken over! Come and see what I'm writing about on Petunia Face. I'm also on Uptake.

Miss me? Come and see me.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Godzilla v. Mothra

I am the best mom ever. I've introduced my 8-year old daughter to the world of giant monsters. This is a little girl that cannot even watch commercials for movies where people die, but monsters, well that's an entirely different thing.

She first watched Godzilla v. Mothra with me on Mothers' Day. I also rented Abbott and Costello meet Frankenstein. If you've ever seen a Godzilla film in your life, you'll remember this one because of the identical tiny twin Japanese ladies that are carried around in a box. When the box is opened the little tiny twins sing to summon Mothra who will protect Tokyo from Godzilla. Epic.

The day after we watched these movies, she transfixed herself with King King. It was the '70s version with Jeff Bridges and Jessica Lange. The giant mechanical gorilla head was later used in the Universal Tour in Hollywood. Did you see that one?

When I was little I watched Creature Features every Saturday night. It was a locally produced show with host Bob Wilkens. He was my favorite kind of funny, the dry kind. He sat in a yellow rocking chair in a funky cheap horror set while smoking a thick cigar. Here's a quote ...

"Weird Women. This is a story about witchcraft, the occult, mysticism, price fixing and tire rotation. I think you'll like it."

It was Mr. Wilkens that introduced me to the great Vincent Price in The Tingler. As you'll see, the movie starts with a serious warning that you'll be given special protective equipment in order to safely watch the movie so that you don't become ... infected. To my dispair, I was stuck in my little bedroom watching my black and white television and therefore had no equipment to shield me from The Tingler except the blanket resting on my nose and under my eyes for quick hiding.

Another Vincent Price classic was The House of Wax. It was about a disfigured crazy man who used dead bodies inside his wax sculptures. This movie made it almost impossible to walk through the San Francisco Wax Museum because I'd look at those deep glass eyes and wonder if at least one of them wasn't made out of a real person, especially Marie Antoinette. Creepy.

I've already wrecked my son who, at the age of 23, is still afraid of zombies thanks to The Night of the Living Dead, my all time most frightening movie. That's the movie that made it impossible for me and my son to walk up the driveway in the dark because we knew there was something following us. Close on our heels. Any moment ... Aaahhghg "We're coming to get you, Sharon"!

We're not afraid of silly things like robberies, rapists, and earthquakes. It's the Blair Witch and the Zombies that will finally be the end of us. Of course the dark powers will make it look like an accident, but don't believe it.

Like I said, I'm the world's greatest mom.

Friday, May 22, 2009

New Equipment for Moms

Summer had mentioned in her recent post that she can feed two babies and help another with homework simultaneously. This is the epitome of mothering and woman-ness. Multitasking. It's a skill that nature gave us in order to handle all the things that come to our attention. We gather information, facts and mix it with our experience and formulate solutions. While our brothers on this planet see one thing at a time and cannot handle more than one task in a day. But nature should have included some of the following equipment to make us even more efficient.

Shelves. I want to have several shelves installed on my body to put plates and cups on so I won't have to make ten trips to the table.

Drawers. If I had drawers installed in my body I would never loose my keys or glasses again. Plus I could keep my cellphone and pepper spray in there.

Spikes. Although I'm very emotionally spiky at times and people stay clear when I have my angry face on, I would still appreciate spikes that I could launch on command.

Volume. A volume dial on my ears would be so helpful for ignoring crying, whining, screaming, and idiotic tween goofy-ness.

Four Eyes. I'd like to actually have the eyes in the back of my head that I've been advertising all these years.

Tight Tummy. Now this has no practical use or reason. I just don't understand why something this important has to fall apart? Why did nature have to take this away from me. I know, I know, exercise, diet, lipo, blah blah blah. NO! I just can't hassle with all that nonsense. I just wanted it naturally granted to me.

I'm going to visit with a plastic surgeon and ask for an estimate. I would argue that these suggestions would make life easier and make much more sense than big boobs, tight eyes, golden skin, and long nails. Seriously.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Praying from the bottom of a Toilet

Today I'm wearing my maternity pants. I'm not pregnant, I just wanted some support. I like the gentle soft hug it gives my tummy. I also have on my Birkenstock sandals that make me look like Jesus' fat sister. Plus, as if the first two items weren't bad enough, a tie-dyed t-shirt.

I am also wearing a frown. My life has taken the fast train to Shitville and I'm looking for a good old fashioned fist fight with a stranger in the grocery store.

I'm trying to walk around all peaceful and in total knowledge that there is a Higher Power, a Great River, a Giant Ball of String or Something that is in charge here.

Dear Bigger Thing than Me,

I pray that all the sick and lost souls are cured and saved. I am grateful that I have my health and my family. I hope that tomorrow I'll be a better person than I was today. But most of all, please let me win that contest!

Thank you,
Your Loyal Servant and Blogger Queen

Friday, May 15, 2009

Please God, Let me Win?

Not only do I write posts for my very own blog (this one), but I'm also a restaurant reviewer for Uptake. Since I'm story teller and not a food connoisseur, I write my reviews in the form of fictional fables. As far as I know I'm the first and only food reviewer to do this. I did Fictional Fables with Food because writing food reviews is BORING for me, so I have to conjure up ridiculous stories about CIA agents, blind dates with British men, marriage proposals, and nudity in order to keep me entertained and, hopefully, you.

Uptake is having a contest for the bloggers. The prize is a Girls Getaway for Four at the Silverado Resort in Napa, California, but first I have to "deserve" it and it must be a family friendly story.

I do deserve it and its because I've had to deal with the worst family problem in the whole entire world. It's yucky and messy and humiliating. It's an issue that many of you have encountered but none of you want to talk about: Lice.

Early this week I discovered "them" and instantly started the phone calls to her three best friends, her gym, and the schools. I tried to stay calm and take an enlightened approach, saying to myself and others "hey man, it's not a reflection of bad parenting. It's just something that happens to kids with hair." But inside I felt like a peasant from the 16th century.

I kept both daughters out of school that day so that we wouldn't infect all the other "nice" children. Here are the things you have to do when your child comes home with lice:

1. Freak out.
2. Analyze your own head. Is it itchy because you're psychosomatic or do you have critters too?
2. Pick through your children's hair to identify "them"
3. Make mortifying phone calls to anyone who's come into contact with your family for the past week.
4. Go to the pharmacy and buy $100 worth of Nix or Rid or whatever.
5. Shampoo and apply stinky horrible medicine on EVERYONE's head for 10 hours. Do not just do a 10-minute treatment like the box says because now they are resistant to it.
6. Walk around in your house with shower caps on and pray to God that nobody comes to the door.
7. Wash every sheet, comforter, pillow, rug that you can. If you can't wash it, it has to go in a plastic airtight bag for four weeks. Bye bye down comforters!
8. Vacuum every single thing in your house: Mattresses, sofas, rugs, floors.
9. You know the box of hair do-dads? Well, they all have to be boiled for 10 minutes.
10. Nitpick. That means use a grid system to analyze every single hair on your kid's head and pick off the left-over eggs. This takes hours.
11. Continue nitpicking, vacuuming, washing for at least a week to catch any rogue critters.

As if this wasn't bad enough, we had just sold our house and the agent called and wanted to do a "walk-through". Oh perfect timing. This is about the time I had a complete mental breakdown.

Two days later was the youngest daughter's Open House. All of our friends and acquaintances knew about our new "pets." That's why when people kept commenting on how great my hair looked, I'd reply "I'm using a new shampoo. Perhaps you've heard?" and they'd laugh.

Katia's three best friends' moms and me have been in complete hell for four days and although we are completely lice-free and our houses are cleaner than they've ever been, ever, we are spent. In my opinion, having a child with head lice is worse than leprosy because at least with leprosy things fall off and you can just walk away.

Although the other three mommies have been my friends for years, nothing has brought us closer together. We are the survivors of the same shipwreck. We are going to make bracelets that say "Not a Lousy Mother" on them. We are going to start a support group for other moms because I'm sure we all have Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.

We are going to loose our minds if we cannot get away for a weekend of spa treatments, sleeping-in, pampering, no children. We can get away sometime this summer for a hard-earned Girls Getaway! And yes, Silverado, we will be sparkling clean guests. Promise.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Happy Bad Mothers Day

Sunday was Mothers Day. It was for all the good mothers in the U.S. who deserved a Hallmark card, flowers from the grocery store, and a weird breakfast made of dry cereal in a bowl with black olives on top. Then they got to pretend to eat it while their child stood watching with a look of great excitement and pride.

But today, Monday, I would like to officially claim as Bad Mothers Day because let's face it, yesterday was a disappointment. All we really wanted was to be left alone for one day. To wake up late and have coffee brought to us. We wanted everyone to plan their own food. We didn't want to go to any games, picnics, swim parties, luncheons, or pancake breakfasts. Us Bad Mommies would like one day without a million responsibilities.

If you can check off at least two items below, you'll qualify as a Bad Mother and you can have today to do whatever the hell you want to do or not do.

1. Forget that it's Early Pick-up Day at school and get the dreaded phone call from the somewhat condescending school secretary telling you your child has been waiting for you for 30 minutes in front of the school. You race right over and make-up a string of lies and excuses on the way.

2. Offer your six-year old child a tub of ice cream and a spoon if they'll just let you sleep in for another hour.

3. Assign an entire section of the family photo album to be titled "Sean's Bathroom Pictures" and hold it over his head throughout high school.

5. Hide the last cookie behind your back as your child comes into the kitchen and asks for it. "Sorry, you must have eaten them all. Way to go."

6. Give them cold medicine when they're not really sick because the directions clearly state "Use only when needed" and you really needed them to go to sleep.

7. Give them Tylenol and send them to school.

8. Fake a phone call to their friend's house and relay the bad news "Looks like they're not home. Guess we'll have to schedule a play date for another day."

9. You let your 2nd grader wear make-up.

10.Your child has lice

Here's to you Bad Mothers of America. Go get a mall massage, a cup of coffee, and watch daytime tv. Plan a nice fresh hot pizza for dinner and fake a headache at 6:30 so you don't have to tuck the kids in and read stories. Go ahead, you deserve at least one day a year.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Time for "The Talk"

My daughter had "Life Class" last week. If I was in charge I'd rename it "It's Not Fair: What's Going to Happen to you Next!"

I've already explained to Katia everything she needs to know anyway, but it was nice for the teacher to tell her again. I've lost a lot of credit with Katia because I don't know how to do square routes or decimal dividing and stuff like such as that. Der. I was forced to tell her the horrible forebodings of her future when, one day, I was exiting the shower. Katia was jabbering about something incredibly important, so important that it couldn't' wait until I was all the way out of the shower and dried off. I was watching her face as she was talking when her eyes fell downward and then she stopped. She just stopped in mid-sentence and her eyes popped open like a Chinese fish on a platter.

"Mom! You have trash coming out of you!" she gasped.

I looked down at the little Tiffany blue string hanging down and quickly wrapped my towel around my waist. Busted. Time for "The Talk".

I told her how Mommy's have a blessing each month. I told her all about Eve and how she should never have eaten that damned apple. If she hadn't, we would never have to buy tampons, pads, and tons and tons of panties. I told her that this is why we shouldn't be able to vote or run for public office. Then we sat down at watched Carrie together. It was a special mother/daughter moment.