Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Hanging Up on Elbow

Little man and I have a 32 minute commute to daycare/work. Without a doubt even after hearing Chicken Fried for 25.5 minutesstraight, by minute 26 Little Man has had enough of the rat race. He is hungry, most likely uncomfortable, and surely even he is sick of that stupid song (once my favorite). At this point in the journey I have heard the same song six times in a row, most likely spilled coffee on myself or my seat, am running late and now must come up with a distraction for LM because 6 minutes of an unhappy toddler is actually the leading cause of fatal car accidents (probably).
One particular morningwhile sipping my coffee, dodging a pot hole and restarting Chicken Fried, I use my Go Go Gadget arm to search around the backseat like a blind man. BINGO- the Elmo (LM calls him Elbow)phone. Actually the Elbow phone is really an Elmo remote but my son sticks everything smaller than a shoe box up to his ear and says Hello, so we call it a phone.
LM is screaming and tearing at his car seat straps as if they were holding him under water. I put the toy remote to my ear and say, Oh hi Elmo. What is that? You want to talk to Little Man? The monster in the car seat has quieted but has yet to remove his scowl. Little Man its Elmo, do you want to talk to Elmo?
Talk to Elmo I plea.
LM squints his eyes and looks at me in the rearview in disgust. But I push on.
C'mon, Talk to Elmo
I thrust the Emo/Elbow, remote/phone at my cranky little guy. He snatches- literally snatches the toy from my hand, puts it up to his ear and in his infamous Lauren Bacallish voice growls-
Bye. The toy is then launched half way across the car. I am shocked. My son has just treated his dear friend Elbow like a foreign telemarketer. I pull up out front of the child care center and begin to unstrap the little guy from his car seat. He looks at me and smiles, that gorgeous innocent smile that melts me instantly. As I am pulling him out he hugs me. He is happy. Hanging up on Elbow mysteriously morphed him into the beautiful, good little boy that I am proud to call mine.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Wedding Season

If you are between the ages of 22 and 34, Summer time means one thing; Wedding Season. Every spring Honey and I start receiving endless amounts of wedding invitations. Our summer calendar fills up before all the snow has had a chance to melt. What does this all mean? I'll tell you. It means endless trips to Bed Bath & Beyond, Rehearsal Dinners, finding a babysitter, and all of your spare cash being shelled out on dresses and suits, gifts and drinks, even strippers. Don't get me wrong, I love a good wedding as much as the next guy. The good old American Wedding tradition can not be beat. The white dress, the blushing bride and the bouquet toss are just a few of the guarantees at any good American wedding. And here are a few more.
You will have a discussion on the way to the wedding regarding wether or not you think the marriage will last and why.
You will stress over what shoes go best with your little black dress, only to get to the wedding and kick them off ( in my case I actually left with out them!)
You will order the beef option because three months ago when you had to chose, you felt like beef, but inevitably the night of the wedding you will wish you had ordered the chicken.
You will break your vow never to dance to The Funky Chicken, The Makarena, or the electric slide.
If you are anything like me you will forget one of the following; the card, the gift, the time of the ceremony.
There will be someone there that you don't like.
There will be someone there that you only see at weddings and yet for some reason at the weddings you will be best friends.
You will drink too much, but guaranteed, the guy who caught the garter will have drunk more than anyone else.
You will call someone by the wrong name....twice.
And if you are anything like me you will voice out loud that you are glad that it is not your stressful day, while secretly wishing it were.

To all of my readers, I would like to propose a toast to a Happy Wedding Season! Cheers!
PS Congrats B&T we had a great time!

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Miss Instant Gratification 2009

And the winner of the 2009 Miss Instant Gratification is..........MorganU!
Vanna, tell her what she has won!
"Well Pat, where do we even begin. MorganU, you have won a lifetime of disappointment. That 4 day diet that promises to make you lose 16 lbs will not only never work but even just 4 days will prove to be too much of a commitment for you. Because of this, you will have a lifetime of arm jiggle all to your very own. But that is not all. You will impulse shop for "needs" that you dont need, can't afford and within hours of purchasing you will not even want. This means you will have an abundance of crap and a bank account that will never add up to much at all!"
"How does a promise of head aches for life sound? Well, you got it! You will have endless head aches from all the wine you will drink to instantly relax.
Ever dreamed of a fantasy vacation? You got it, and it will be accompanied by a credit card bill that will take you years to pay down because you can't afford it...not even a little!"

Vanna, can there possibly be more?

"There can! Miss Instant Gratification of 2009 will be leaving here today with her very own Instant Gratification kit. This includes 1 pair of Spanx, a can of self tanner, hair extensions, a bottle of diet pills, and her very own Instant Gratification Gown that promises to hide all of her imperfections so that she won't actually have to work on them!"
" Congratulations MorganU!''

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Attention Dr Phil

There are few things in life that are a guarantee. I can gaurantee you that I will be 10 minutes late, my car is perpetually on empty and that if I am home at 5 O clock on a week day (which is no guarantee) that I will be listening to Dr Phil while buzzing around the house cleaning, cooking, sipping wine.
The other day, ( I cant be specific because I have been a day ahead all week) Dr Phil had men and women on discussing Why Men Suck. I think it was worded differently but clearly, if Dr Phil had a few male fans left, they have officially signed off. One of the "had been hurt a zillion times" ladies suggested to Dr Phil that he hold a "Husband Boot Camp". I couldn't agree more. And Dr. Phil if you are reading, I have a few suggestions:

Firstly, I would like the men to have a crash course on CLEANING. Please be sure to cover the following areas.
Sinks- Sinks are not storage places for dirty dishes. They are not miraculously emptied by dish faries that look an awful lot like you wife (or Pretty Much Wife). They are not garbages so please stop sweeping crumbs etc into them. If you are using the bathroom sink, try to think of it as a person, a person who does not like to have toothpaste stuck to him/her for all of eternity. Please Dr Phil cover the sink topic but do not spend too much time on it b/c the men will begin to tune you out.
Hampers- Please show them what one looks like, make them repeat the word over and over...HAMPER HAMPER HAMPER so that when we tell them to put their filthy clothes in it that they don't look at us like we have three boobs and are speaking vietnamese.
Showers- These should happen everyday. If you miss one, you do not need to make the next one last 45 minutes. Once out of the shower please use one of the clean towels that your wife or Pretty Much Wife has so generously left hanging for you...and note to yourself that that same place is where the wet towel should be returned. Dr Phil, please remind them once again that there are no fairies to help out in this situation either. This might be a good place to point out to them that if they put in a few more hours of work a week that we could actually hire a "fairy" to do all of this work, saving many future fights and causes of stress.
Romance- more important now than ever. Again Dr Phil please remind them of how wonderfully they wooed us in the beginning. Please share with them that we fell in love with a romantic guy. Please give them a few romantic ideas...I dont want flowers, I want time. I want planned evenings just the two of us. I want to be asked to do fun things.
Sex- Now Dr Phil this is important. If there is one way that you can get through to these hubbies or PMH's fill them in on a little seceret...we find clean, tidy, romantic men extremely sexy. Honestly, if my Pretty Much Husband were to swiffer the floors and turn on the dish washer without being asked, I would consider that foreplay!

Monday, June 15, 2009

Recipe for a Wonderful Solo Evening

Recipe for a successful evening...
Ingredients - Jammies (preferably flannel)
Slippers- fuzzy
giant glass of wine (white in the summer, red in the winter)
Diana Kraul CD
Fabulous book (trashy magazine also acceptable)

Directions- After a usually crappy day in your dim, dingy office drive 9 miles over the speed limit home. Once home ignore new bills that are half hanging out of your broken mail box and head straight for the laundry basket that contains the clean and semi clean clothes and dig out your most comfortable pair of jammies. I suggest yoga pants and an inside out sweatshirt, but really anything will do. Kick off your sexy shoes and replace immediately with 100% unsexy fuzzy slippers. Head to kitchen. Find the cleanest/largest wine (or pint) glass and fill to brim. Sip. AHH. Pop in the Diana Kraul, Frank Sinatra or Michael Buble CD and begin to imagine yourself at a cafe in Tuscany. find the book that you have been reading for the past 6 months and go back a chapter as to remember where you left off. sit in His chair (even though you complain about how ugly it is you have to admit that it is way more comfortable than your gorgeous couch.) and kick your feet up. This is a great recipe to use on that odd occasion that your child/ children are not home, your Honey is busy and you dropped your phone in the toilet. Warning: this recipe is easily ruined if you let your mind wander to the unvacuumed carpet, the laundry pile that has consumed half of your bathroom, or the fact that you really don't know where your child/ children are, so take time to ensure that all of this is taken care of ahead of time, preferably by someone else.

Morgan U, Famous Blogger!

I am elated. I am having visions of being interviewed by Oprah, having papparazi follow me to Starbucks (we don't even have a Starbucks), and having Botox. I am being played in a movie by Scarlette Johansin. Why you ask?

Well, Saturday we went to a party. And that is where it happened. I was approached about my blog. Four people at the party declared that they were official fans of my blog. I am instantly transformed into Morgan U the famous Blogger. I have since practiced my signature, made an appointment to get my hair done, and decided to stick to my fitness routine so that I will look fabulous while being interviewed by Letterman.

I have practiced how I am going to tell my boss that I am leaving to become a famous Blogger. I have decided on a new car and I have picked out a Prada bag. What I have not done is seriously think about how I can get my Blog read by the right people. The people that will read it and wisk me off in a private jet to give me a celebrity makeover and a book deal.

So here is my plea: Oh wonderful ,fabulous, loyal fans out there, if you have any celebrity friends, distant relatives with connections to Hollywood, or even a friend of a friend of a friend that sweeps the floor at Harpo Studios.. hook a sister up. I promise you now that when I am a famous Blogger that attends parties with the cast of The Hills that I will not forget you! I will throw stunning parties with celebretyish goody bags. I will charter a yacht and bring all of my closest 300 friends for a celebrity studded cocktail party. Loyal fans...you will not be forgotten!

See what happens when I get a compliment!

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Picking Up Poop

When exactly did it become necesarry to walk your dog, carrying a plastic bag and wearing rubber gloves so that everytime your K9 does his business you have to reach on down to Gods green earth and pick up said poop with said gloved hand? Does this seem sane? Do people even question why it is ok for every other animal on the planet to leave deposits wherever their little tails desire? I dont even have a dog and everytime i see someone stooping to such insanity it enrages my inner angry child I want to put my head out the window and scream "you silly human, why are you giving in to this craziness.....for zillions of years dogs, cats, squirells and elephants alike have been crapping outside...."I have never passed a gravestone that read "dead from excessive amounts of doggy dew deposited in yard. My yard has worms, potato bugs, spiders and grubs, really what harm can a little poop do?

Clearly, I am having anger issues right now. Clearly I am frusterated with job, life, home etc. clearly it is not the lack of dog poop on my yard that is making me so volatile......but really pet owners across the globe save me from my coming anurism and leave the poop!