Wednesday, December 12, 2012

My name isn't Suzy!

I'm having a bit of an identity crisis. 

Lately, I've been having a lot of Suzy Homemaker moments. And while technically I am a "homemaker", I don't identify myself that way. 

Loving, Devoted Wife & Mother. Yes.

Stay at Home Mom. Yes.

Retired Speech-Language Pathologist. Yes. 

Xbike Instructor. Yes.

Damn Good Friend. Yes.

Sometimes Blogger. Yes.

Witty Bitch. Yes.

Maid. Yes.

Cook. Yes.

Laundry Fairy. Yes.

Hunter & Gatherer. Yes.

Wine lover. Yes. 

Over-volunteerer. Yes.

Homemaker. Wait, What?

I'm not sure why I don't identify with the term homemaker or why this label irks me. Labels don't matter, right? I guess in my head it just seems so 1950s. Not that there was anything wrong with being a homemaker in the 50s. (Best to cover my bases in case one of my dead grandmothers gets wind of this. They could be reading over my shoulder. Sometimes one of them makes the lights in my house flicker. True story.) I've even heard that doctors in the 50s were pretty liberal with the valium for those homemakers, so there's that. What? Widespread valium use doesn't go in the pro column? Oh. My mistake. 

Anyway, here are some of the occurrences of late that have given me the homemaker hibbie jibbies. 

1. I got a Shark Steam Mop and I am ridiculously excited about it. A mop!?! WTF? I love it. I tell people about it. 

2. I've been ironing Scott's shirts. I. DON'T. IRON. Yet, I've ironed his shirts now on 2 occasions. Maybe I've been replaced by one of those Stepford Wives? 

3. I got new plungers at Costco today and I cannot wait for someone to clog up the toilet so I can try one out, which I'm sure will be soon as for some mysterious reason we use plungers quite a bit at our house. We blame the toilets. Ok, so hear me out on this. Rubbermaid has this new genius plunger called the Clean & Dry Plunger. Scott showed me an ad for it this morning on Youtube and we were both sadly very intrigued. Then I saw a 2 pack at Costco and got so excited that I texted Scott a pic and put them in my cart pronto. The plunger "repels water & other things". The demo in the ad is super cool. Go ahead and Goggle it. I'll wait. 

Yeah, big sigh, I'm a Homemaker. Better than a Homewrecker. I aspire to one day be a Lady of Leisure, but until I get a staff to mop the floor and plunge the toilet, I'm happy to have the latest and greatest technology to help me do the job.

Peace & Love ;-)

Friday, September 14, 2012

Almost Setting a Good Example

True confession time. 

I am a tad judgmental. 

I have not really gotten more mature over the years, but for the most part I've gotten better at faking it. Also, I am more willing to move past first impressions and give someone a chance. I try to not say things out loud in front of the children disparaging someone's appearance. However, if you prove to me through word or action that you are a douche bag, then I care not if you are winning any beauty pageants, I will not be shy about expressing what an ass hat you are. At least from the safety of my car. 

Yesterday, because I'm such a nice mom and also because I was craving a Matcha Green Tea Blast, I took the kids to Jamba Juice. I pull in the crowded parking lot and see an open spot right in front of Jamba. Perfect. I go to pull in said spot and there is a women (who was neither slight nor attractive) standing with the door of her car open in the next spot. She was going through papers of some sort. I pull partially into my spot and wait as I don't want to deal with the insurance hassle of ramming her or her car door. I wait uncharacteristically patiently. I do not honk. I do not gesture. I do not say mean things. I simply wait.

She keeps glancing up at me and going back to the papers. I smile and wait. After a minute or so, in a clearly huffy manner, she grabs her papers, slams her car door and stomps off to the other side of her car shaking her head.

Me: "I guess my nice waiting made her angry."

The boy: "Why is she so mad?"

Me: "I don't know. Just get out of the car and don't say anything."

We go in Jamba. Get our smoothies and get back in the car. As I'm pulling out of the spot I notice my parking lot friend coming out of Jamba.

Me: "Here comes the angry lady out of Jamba. I didn't even notice her in there."

The boy: "How come you made her so angry?"

Me: "Maybe she is having a bad day. Maybe she was already irritated and moving out of my way just sent her over the edge. It probably has very little to do with me." (notice how calm and super mature I'm being)

Me: "Or maybe she's jealous that I'm cuter than her." (not so mature, but clearly this is a joke and I cracked myself up)

The girl: (looking up from texting) "Are you talking about that fat old lady? Yeah, you are the winner of that cuteness contest Mom."

The boy: "Did you see her fat extra chin?"

I blame Scott.

Peace & Love ;-)

p.s. I did give the kids a spiel about judging folks based on what they do or say and not what they look like yada yada yada. 

Thursday, September 6, 2012

My Open Door Policy Reconsidered

Yesterday in the car with both kids.

The Girl (age 11): "I walked in on The Boy in the bathroom sitting on the toilet the other day. Gross."

The Boy (age 6): "You shouldn't come in there when I'm going potty!"

The Girl: "The light was off and the door was open! How was I supposed to know you were in there? When I use the bathroom the light is on, the fan is on, the door is closed and the door is locked."

Me: "How come you guys walk in and talk to me when I'm going potty?"

The Girl & The Boy in unison: "You always leave the door open!"

Me: "Even if I close the door you still think you can waltz in and talk to me."

The Girl: "It doesn't count if you close your main bathroom door, but not the one to the little toilet room. I think you are just doing your hair or something in the big part of the bathroom so I open the door."

The Boy: "Sometimes I come looking for you and I see you on the potty going pee or poop with the door open."

Me: "Okay, I don't always close the door when I pee, but I definitely close it when I poop. You guys never walk in on Dad going potty."

The Girl: "He closes the door!"

The Boy: "He would be mad."

Me: "I'm going to start closing the door and locking it. Every. Time."

Several Hours later just the Girl and I are home. I go to pee and nudge the door closed, but don't actually push it closed to latch or lock it resulting in it being slightly open.

The Girl (from around the corner and 2 rooms away): "See, you don't close the door."


Friday, July 20, 2012

I should be scrubbing toilets.

Something very strange is going on with me. I'm leaving for vacation soon and I'm not stressing out about cleaning the house. If you find this confusing click here and all will be explained. I should be dusting, vacuuming and scrubbing, but I'm just not feeling it. I feel I should be feeling it, but I'm not. Trying to get in the spirit of my usual pre-vacation neurosis, I did clean my bathroom yesterday and while I like that it's clean, I do not feel compelled to press on.

This is worrisome. Seriously, what is wrong with me? Am I depressed? I don't think so. Here's what I know:

  • I'm pretty darn excited about the vacation with Scott to include sand, sea, beer & tequila sans children. Yay!
  • My sleep patterns seem the same. They are as jacked up as they ever were and I'm tired like I've been for the last 12 years.
  • I'm exercising and getting high from it. I get paid to do it, so I'm really not sure if would be motivated to go right now otherwise. I don't ask myself that. I just do it. 
  • I have been doing an excellent job shoving food in my face lately, but I go through cycles. Eat, drink, be merry and gain 5, followed by get strict with myself and lose the 5. I blame my daughter who has decided to be a baker this summer. It would be very rude of me not to eat all the yummy stuff she's been filling the kitchen with. (Um, yeah, there's probably some kind of eating issue in there. It's no secret I have a sugar addiction. Let's just gloss over that for now. Okay? Great.)
  • I'm still feeling the happy moments and getting fired up when appropriate or sometimes when it's not.

Yep, I seem pretty much the same minus the clean house neurosis. 

I have noticed I've been going a little longer over the last few months between serious house cleanings. Perhaps, subconsciously, I've been lowering the family's expectations so that in a few weeks when, for the first time in 11 years and 9 months, I have all my offspring in school from 8-2, they aren't wondering what in the hell I'm doing all day? The cleaner house will be a sign that finally I have time to get shit done.

Here's the problem with that, if indeed that 's what I've been doing, I don't think I'm going to feel like cleaning the house then either. 

Maybe I've just matured and have gained an understanding that in the grand scheme of things an uber clean house is overrated? That can't be right. There must be something wrong with me and there must be a drug for it. I better watch some TV and wait for one of the drug companies to inform me what I should ask my doctor about. 

Peace & Love :-)

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Randomettes... Ummm...

Think, think, think...

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock...

I fear I've lost the will to rant.

I thought I'd have something to go on about after tent camping for 3 nights, but not really.

I didn't love sleeping in a tent on an air mattress or that the bathrooms were so far away, particularly in the middle of the night. Not that I walked to the bathrooms in the middle of the night, but my ass got rather cold while I was squatting in the bushes down wind from the tents. 

I also didn't love that the boy had a middle of the night, hour long, pain induced, freak out that damn near sent us searching for an ER at 2 a.m. (he's fine, we think it was gas. horrible, painful gas), but that wasn't because we were camping. That would have sucked at home too. Also the girl had a meltdown, mainly due to too much fun and lack of sleep (this we can blame on the group party camping), but all was well after a nap. 

Otherwise, the whole thing was pretty good. Fun even. The food was fantastic, thanks to Double D Moma and her mad menu planning, food & drink purchasing, and cooking skills. The company was fabulous. The setting was beautiful. The kids had fun. Scott had fun. I had fun. The dog seemed to like it and only wandered away from camp to be brought back by a ranger once. 


After many, many games off having my ass handed to me, I finally beat Blondie in a game of Scramble. So the score is somewhere around: Lil Tirade- 1, Blondie- 93. It's a very small victory and I will cling to it. 


I've been teaching the kids to do their own laundry. The boy is into it. He's 6 and loves to help around the house and do things on his own. Today he said, "I'm doing my laundry Mom". And he did. All by himself. Hamper-washer-dryer-dresser. The girl, age 11, is totally capable of mastering this task, but is way less enthusiastic. I told her that she is lucky because she got 5 more years of laundry service than her brother. The eye rolling and sighing leads me to believe she does not concur.

peace & love ;-)

Sunday, June 10, 2012

It's Frickin On Like Donkey Kong!

Or in this case Scramble. Scramble is my newest app obsession. It's like Bogle with 3 timed rounds per game. It's super fun and addicting to a word game lover like myself, but it is PISSING ME OFF. 

The game isn't pissing me off so much as my friend, Blondie, is pissing me off. She keeps kicking my ass. It is so rude! I have beaten her in a couple, only a couple, of rounds and come sort of close in one game, but I keep losing. BAH!

Blondie is one of my favorite Scrabble opponents. Sometimes I kick her ass. Sometimes she kicks my ass. She doesn't dally too long between turns. We sometimes exchange witty banter while playing. It's a terrific match. Except for when her app was being an asshole and she deleted it for months and forced me to play Words With Friends with her which is okay, but not as good as Scrabble. I'm totally over that though. She saw the light and returned to Scrabble. We are a good match.

I am consumed with beating her in Scramble. I've even started spending an extra coin to gain an extra cheat during the game. You have to use a coin to play a round, which is stupid but it is meant to drive you to upgrading from the free version so you can earn coins faster and then buy more coins in app, because you are totally crazed and obsessed and need to play more rounds right now. You get a new coin every 20 minutes or something like that. I haven't given in to the upgrade or more coin purchases yet, so take that Scramble. You get a free cheat at the beginning of each round with an option to buy a second cheat for a coin. 

It's a bit confusing if you aren't playing it, but the point is when I first started I was like "yeah, I'll pick a free cheat, why not? but no need to buy a second, that's overkill" and now I'm spending way too much time strategizing about which 2 cheats make the best combination. I can't disclose my strategy here though. I don't want Blondie to know my tricks. My tricks that fail to beat her. Bah!

There is another opponent I have not yet beaten. I'm pretty sure I know who it is, but I'm not 100%. I think it's one of my other smarty pants friends that I gave my user name to, but I'm not familiar with her user name, so I could just be getting my ass handed to me by some random. Friend or foe, I'm making it my mission to kick her ass too.

I would like to state here that I have beaten at least 4 other opponents in a big ass kicking kind of way. Just sayin.

If you want to play, my user name is.... liltirade. Apparently I need all the practice I can get.

Peace & Love ;-)

p.s. When I first started playing I had tunnel vision on the board and didn't notice the prominently displayed pause button at the upper right of the screen and would totally yell at my kids if they dared to talk to me during a round. After all, I did announce loudly not to talk to Mommy for the next 2 minutes because "I'm trying to beat Blondie!" Blondie told me about the pause button and the next time the girl walked by and looked at the screen while I was playing she said "that pause button is soooo obvious, how could you miss it?" I am getting it from all sides on this one.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Randomettes: Puking, Moths & A Drop Off Lane Miracle

I missed the girl's spring band concert last night, because I was home puking from food poisoning. Lovely. I missed last year's spring band concert, because I was tagging along with Scott on a business thing. I believe we were at a private Journey Concert that night. This year's excuse for not going was less guilt inducing, but also way less fun.


This morning I rounded the corner into the drop off lane at school and witnessed a miracle. Everyone was doing it right. No one was parked by the kinder rooms waiting for the doors to open, no one had left a parked car in the hug & go lane to walk their kid to class. All the cars were pulling up as far as they could, dropping off students and then driving away in the correct lane. It was really, really weird. It felt like there was a rift in the space time continuum. Weird I tell you. There was another 20 minutes before the upper grades had their final bell so I'm sure someone fucked the whole thing up before school started though.


The moths are back. They can hibernate in the pupae state apparently. This has been going on for a couple weeks and I just couldn't summon the strength to discuss it here. The pantry has been searched again and nothing has larvae in it and I can't find any pupae. The pupae can be in tiny cracks in the shelves or in areas outside the pantry. The pheromone trap has gotten a handful of moths and we have killed a half dozen or so. One moth was even trapped in a Ziploc after emerging from it's pupae in said Ziploc full of tea bags. Scott and I searched every tea bag and couldn't find the pupae. We threw the whole bag out of course. Sigh. That bag had been in the pantry since the original moth war lending credence to the hibernation theory and demonstrating the worthiness of all my cleaning, bagging and food containering. So there's that.


I survived the girl's 5th grade camping field trip. This should be applauded for at least 2 reasons. 


2. 3 days & 2 nights with 70 5th graders. I really shouldn't have to explain why you should be clapping for this.


The girl has to bring a 'sweet treat' to a school party tomorrow and I wanted to pick up something sweet to bring to my GNO tomorrow night where we will be having 'Booze & Snacks'. I'm over the puking and while I'm sort of hungry, I'm also sort of leery of any food and nothing really sounds good. This made it really hard to be decisive on picking treats. I did a lot of wandering and staring and then this happened:

My kids are gonna be thrilled. My thighs will not.

Peace & Love ;-)

Monday, May 14, 2012

Check Out My Ass!

I almost titled this post "Happy Mother's Day to Me" or something like that, because it is sort of about my Mother's Day, but in the end it's really about my ass.

I have to admit I was a little bent that Scott didn't plan anything or get me a gift for Mother's Day. Instead he said we could do whatever I wanted. I really just wanted a nice day with my family. No extravagant gifts necessary, though I did feel like a bit of thought on his part would have been awesome. 

After the kids gave me their sweet cards and Scott gave me the gift of free choice, I was a little salty (only to Scott, not to my precious offspring). 

Also, I might not have been feeling super after the 2 "Bob Drinks" I had the night before, which involve so much vodka it's really like 4 or more regular drinks (Bob is not my friend's real name, obviously, as everything here is anonymous- that is if you don't know me) and I did have to get ready to teach my regular Sunday morning x-bike classes. (Note to self: don't go to Bob's house the night before teaching x-bike. duh!)

Anyhow, somehow I survived the x-biking, started feeling a bit better and decided I wanted a pedicure, Pinkberry and not to be in charge of dinner. I took the girl with me for the pedicures and when we went for Pinkberry my 6 y/o brought his wallet and paid for my yogurt. The Pinkberry people thought it was so adorable and they were right!

Near Pinkberry are several new clothing boutiques that Scott encouraged me to wander in and "pick out something pretty" because he's from the 1960s apparently. So I did.  

It felt a bit odd shopping somewhere other than Target, Old Navy or Marshall's, but I did find jeans that I love. They are Miss Me brand which allegedly is a good thing and they are cigarette length which the sales lady claims are "very in" right now. I did stand looking in the mirror at the length somewhat confused for awhile and let the lady talk and talk to convince me of how "now" this style is. She offered me heels to try on which made me laugh as I don't so much wear heels with jeans, I mean maybe a wedge, but heels? 

I bought the pants because my whole family said I should get them, Scott did not even give me stink eye over the price and if I do say so myself... my ass looks great in them. Check it out:

Lucky for Scott, the day was a win. I probably should have shopped longer and harder, but I really wanted to go home and take a nap. Damn you Bob!

peace & love ;-)

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Shower Thoughts... Kenny Rogers is so wise

This morning in the shower I was thinking about Kenny Rogers. No, not like that. Eww. Gross. 

I was thinking about this thing that I'm involved with and whether or not I should continue to be involved in said thing. I was weighing the enjoyment I get from it vs. the amount of time I spend wanting to bang my head against the wall, when the chorus of The Gambler sung by Kenny Rogers popped into my head:

"You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em.
Know when to walk away, and know when to run."

It was then that I fully realized that Kenny wasn't just singing about poker. Those lyrics are a metaphor for life people. One can apply this advice to relationships, jobs, volunteering, shopping, eating, blogging, eyebrow tweezing, zit popping, etc. I can't think of something it wouldn't work for. 

I think I just found my next tattoo. Wait. That might not actually be good a idea. It's a lot of words and would take a long time causing much pain and costing much money and where would I put it really? I guess on my back, but then when I'm really old and wrinkly it could be difficult to read. Yeah, never mind.

Still, very sage advice.

I was so impressed by Kenny's words of wisdom that I googled the lyrics and found out not only are there a lot of profound lyrics in that song:

"'Cause ev'ry hand's a winner and ev'ry hand's a loser,
And the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep."

I also found out Kenny is just the messenger. Four other obviously super deep people are the writers. For complete lyrics and a list of who actually wrote The Gambler go here. Be warned a pop up will appear asking you if you'd like to download The Gambler ringtone. I said "no thanks", but it's okay if you want to buy it.

As for the thing... For the moment I'm going to hold 'em, but I'll be watching the other people's eyes to see what cards they're holding and hope I know when to fold 'em. And also when to run like hell. 

peace & love ;-)

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

The Return of the Wine Fairy

Last night my Wine Fairy painting was returned to it's place of honor in my kitchen. My uber talented friend, Sharpie Fine Girl, created this piece for me to mark the occasion of my 40th birthday back in December. 

The Wine Fairy
When I initially brought The Wine Fairy home I carried her all over the house debating on the perfect spot for her finally determining the kitchen, where she could watch over my wine choices, was it.

She didn't grace the kitchen wall for too long before SFG wanted her back. How rude! SFG had been invited to show her artwork, but was mostly sold out of her paintings and needed to borrow back some pieces for the show. Pretty great problem to have I think. Because I am an awesome, supportive friend I acquiesced. 

Off went my Wine Fairy to be viewed by the masses leaving an empty spot on the wall that even Scott noticed. I hope nobody touched her! The show has been over for a couple months-ish, but it took SFG a while to get her back to me. Allegedly she "forgot" The Wine Fairy last month when I saw her, but perhaps there's more to the story.

I got her back last night and delivered her safely to my kitchen where she can watch over and protect me. Except for when I take her to the store where she will guide me in choosing excellent, low priced, delectable wine. Yes, she is that powerful and no, you may not borrow her. Maybe SFG knows her powers and that's why it took so long to get her back? Maybe SFG made a copy of my Wine Fairy and kept the original for herself? Wait... SFG is a beer girl so that doesn't even make sense. Whew. Close one!

peace & love ;-)

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Conversations with Scott... I'll ban it!

Scott: "What?"

Me: "Nothing. I don't think you'll like what I have to say so I'm not going to say anything."

Scott: "Great."

Me: "And I probably won't blog about it."

Scott: "You can only blog about me if I say so."

Me: "Uh-huh."

Scott: "I'll ban you from blogging about me."

Me: "I don't think so."

Scott: "It's not anonymous."

Me: "It's anonymous-ish."

Scott: "Everyone that knows both of us knows that it's about us. Only people that don't know us, don't know that it's us. That's fucking fantastic."

Touche Scott.

peace & love ;-)

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

I'm Going Back to 1976 to Get a Good Night's Sleep.


This morning. 2:30 a.m.: 

The boy, age 6, showed up on my side of the bed which he does every time he needs to pee in the middle of the night rather than heading straight for the toilet. Always my side. Never Scott's side. Always my side. Always.

Me: "Go potty."

The boy: (runs off to use the potty, turns on the bathroom light, closes the door loudly, slams up the toilet seat, pees, flushes, slams down the toilet seat, washes hands, opens door, turns off light and returns to the bedside) "Please tuck me back in."

Me: "hmmff" (haul self out of the warm bed, down the hall & up the loft bed ladder)

The boy: "It's 2:30. I have 4 more hours to sleep. I can do that." (He then rolls over and is asleep... like instantly)

Me: (down the ladder, down the hall, to the bathroom -obviously since I'm already up-, back to bed & wide awake) "WTF?"

I don't think it took me too long to go back to sleep, but it wasn't roll over and be out. I tried that and I was awake long enough to know it didn't work. 

I've decided I need to invent a pill, a method, a something that gives adults 'kid sleep'. So many times Scott and I have discussed just how much we'd pay to have one night of kid sleep. I think we have upped the ante to somewhere around 3 gazillion dollars. 

I've never taken Ambien or the like and I'm not lining up to do it, because I would certainly eat random things in the night or drive over to ARCO and pump gas in just my underwear or something else dangerous and/or embarrassing and/or fattening. 

I'm down with having wine, or whatever your pleasure is, to ease you towards slumber, but in my experience it doesn't produce 10 hours of solid sleep or allow for easily going back to sleep at 3 a.m. It has been suggested that maybe I'm just not drinking enough of it, but I don't really want to feel like I've been run over by a bus every morning so I've decided against chugging copious amounts of wine as a sleep aid. I have considered, but not actually tried, keeping a glass bedside for middle of the night sleep inducement. That seems like borderline alcoholic behavior though.

Narcotics without an IV of Compazine make me hurl so no.

The Michael Jackson drug, propho-something-or-other, seems like an extremely bad idea and I don't actually know Nurse Jackie so I doubt I could get my hands on any.

My invention will be all natural, organic, be legal everywhere without a special card, will have no side effects and will allow you to sleep long and hard without worry like my children do. Like I did when I was a kid and would fall asleep draped over the top of the couch and have no memory of being moved to my bed. Like I was even able to do when I came home from college, but never ever able to do in my dorm, apartments, or houses. The sleep that comes with the deep rooted sense of security that someone else is in charge, you will be taken care of and not even the smallest part of you needs to be on alert. 

That's the sleep I crave.
Me circa age 5.

Another solid example of fabulous kid sleep.
Also circa age 5.

I'm starting to think a pill is the wrong direction to go. A time machine seems like the better choice here. That's clearly the easier path to take. I'm going to get right on it. Just think when I am rich and famous you can say you knew me when.

peace & love ;-).


This morning at 3:33 a.m. I got a text from my mother:

Mom: "Read blog at 3:23. 2 thumbs up on pics."

My phone lives on my night stand right next to my head during the night as I don't have a land line and if anyone needs to call me in an emergency situation that is the only way to contact me. When my text noise went off at 3:30, I sat straight up thinking my alarm was going off and did I forget I was teaching at 6:00.  

Scott: "Does she think you are always awake at 3:30?"

Me: "I think she thinks my sound is off or the phone is downstairs or maybe she thinks I started that wine sipping thing and am passed out and won't hear it."

So today I text back:

Me: "Thx. BTW, your 3:30 a.m. text woke me up. 2 thumbs down."

Mom: "Noooo. Why is your sound not off at night?"

And there you have it. 

Now if I could just get Alanis' "Isn't ironic" out of my head...

Friday, April 6, 2012

Ta Da!

The kids and I made our annual Easter Bunny Cake today. My mom started making the bunny cake with me in 1977 when I was 5. We change up the the candy and colors each year, but the basic bunny remains the same.

This year's cake.

The boy's plan for the cake which we took to the store instead of a written list and referenced while decorating.
This cake gives you big bang for your buck. It's relatively easy and always impresses. All you need is a cake mix, 2 tubs of frosting and candy.

Pour batter into 2 8" rounds and bake.

After cooling leave 1 round intact and cut the other round like this to get the ears and bow tie.

Arrange on tray and trim bow tie and ear pieces as needed.

Then you frost, decorate and viola... bunny cake. Most years we make a white cake, because I feel it's the easiest to frost prettily, but this year the kids super duper wanted a red velvet cake so we went for it. For the first time ever I did a crumb layer of frosting and then refrigerated the cake for a bit. I had to google "refrigerating cake and frosting" to figure out what to do. I had a vague notion of cake/frosting/refrigeration, but no real plan. Turns out the crumb layer (which just means do a thin first layer of frosting to seal down the crumbs and then refrigerate for 10+ minutes) was genius and the white bunny with red innards is a success. 

We are bringing the bunny cake to a party tomorrow. Usually when people comment on the bunny cake I explain how easy it is to make. My daughter has suggested that tomorrow I be prepared to say how difficult and laborious the process was so that I get extra props. So, if by chance you have both read this and are attending the same party tomorrow, nod and smile when I lie to your face.

peace & love ;-)

p.s. bunny cakes from the past.

Would you care for some cereal with that sugar?

Yesterday I had a serious lapse in judgement and knowingly purchased all of these cereals at once for the express purpose of my children's consumption:

Honey Comb (10g Sugar)
Honey Kix (6g Sugar)
Fruit Loops (12g Sugar)
Cinnamon Toast Crunch (10g)

I don't know what made me so amenable. Maybe it was that we had just picked out everything for our annual bunny cake based on the boy's drawing of how we should decorate it this year. Maybe it was the funny memory of my baby brother, who turned 29 yesterday, being scared of the Easter Bunny. We had to leave notes asking the bunny to please leave the Easter baskets on the porch. Maybe I was just in a good mood from the shining sun. 

Whatever it was, my children were thrilled and while I was hoping I wouldn't see anyone I knew during checkout I was kind of liking being the fun cereal mom for once. Usually I am the mean cereal mom. There was that one summer at the cabin when I said yes to a box of Fruit Loops. 1 box for the whole 2 weeks. Also, I did allow the boy to eat Cocoa Krispies and a chocolate glazed donut for breakfast every morning on our recent cruise. I am not without my fun breakfast moments, but at least 49 weeks of the year, not really so fun.

Here is where I guess I should say that while I do not buy 100% organic nor only 100% whole grain, I do generally make healthy choices for my family. We always have fresh fruits and vegetables. I prepare mainly chicken and fish and the occasional lean meat. I never fry anything or add salt outside of a baking recipe. We do sometimes have chips around (usually, but not always baked ones) and 99% of the time there are some type of sweets to be enjoyed after meals. I like to buy my cookies at Trader Joe's, because even sweets are somehow magically healthier when they come from Trader Joe's. It's a fact. Now you know.

Before I even got out of bed this morning, the boy informed me he had eaten 2 bowls of some combo of the above cereal and his stomach hurt. My immediate reaction (with eyes still closed) was to announce that I was going to rectify my lapse in judgment by tossing out all that evil sugar cereal. Then I remembered that sometimes the boy claims his tummy hurts because he wants to watch TV. 

What to do? Toss it all? Set limits at 1 bowl followed by yogurt or fruit if still hungry? Eat it all myself to save the children?

Here's what I did: I asked the Keurig to make me a cup of coffee. No decisions should be made before coffee. Then I googled the nutrition information for the cereals I usually purchase.

Honey Nut Cheerios (9g)
Trader Joe's Honey Nut O's (10g)
Frosted Mini Wheats (10g)
Trader Joe's Frosted Shredded Bite Size Wheats (11g)
Trader Joe's Maple Frosted Shredded Bite Size Wheats (12g)
Cinnamon Life (8g)

The numbers are quite similar. The lowest amount of sugar is in yesterday's purchased Honey Kix. Very interesting...

Should I feel vindicated? Should I feel duped? Should I feel like an ignoramus? Should I expect the kids to eat plain Cheerios (1g) or Rice Krispies (4g) without adding sweetener? Should I tell them it's unsweetened steel cut oatmeal and fresh fruit or starve in the morning? Should I buy only Fruit Loops?

I DON'T KNOW! I haven't had my second cup of coffee and these questions are just too much for me...

peace & love ;-)

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Wee Hours WTF?

Early this morning around 2 a.m. or so I was awake and attempting to do what I tell my kids: get comfortable, lay still and go to sleep. I was trying to clear my mind and avoid running through my to do list or obsessing over terrible accidents that could befall my loved ones. I'm not great at clearing my head and being zen. Here's some of the weird shit that was running through my head:

  • I really shouldn't have taken that afternoon nap, but I was sooo tired...

  • (to the tune of Low) she hit the wall, she hit the wall, next thing you know, shawty got z, z, z, zzzs...

  • (to the tune of Not Afraid) I'm not asleep, I'm not asleep, which really blows, which really blows... I can't go on living this way, So starting today, some bitch has to pay...

  • The shower principle! I keep forgetting I want to write about that episode of 30 Rock where Liz was Jack's shower principle and how I wrote about the shower principle a while back, except I didn't call it the shower principle, but I was yammering about it before Tina Fey explored it on TV...

  • This jibberish might be good for the blog. I should put it in my iphone notes... 

Then I hid under the covers and typed this bullshit entertainment gold into my notes on the iphone cuz I didn't want to disturb Scott with the light from the phone. I'm very considerate like that, but then it got really hot under there so I had to stop. I guess I went back to sleep then, because my notes end and I can't recall any further witty repertoire with myself. Obviously I should hide under the covers and take notes more often. My middle of the night neuroses is good stuff or at the very least passable material for a half ass blog entry. 

That reminds me how much I loved it on Parks & Rec a few weeks ago when Ron Swanson said, "Never half ass two things, whole ass one." I can't tell you how many times I've said to my kids, "Don't do that half ass, do it full ass." Words of wisdom my friends. Words of wisdom.

Peace & Love ;-)

Friday, March 30, 2012

Lil Tirade Gets A Facebook Page

After a solid 5 minutes of consideration, I've decided lil tirade should have her own my own her own Facebook page. Even though I remain anonymous on this blog, I have been sharing my blog posts on my personal Facebook page. If you already know me from Facebook, then you've cracked the code of who lil tirade is, because I've told you it's me.  

However, now that I've set up a lil tirade page, I think I'll stop sharing the links as me. Just as lil tirade. So, if Facebook is how you know when I've written a new post then I suggest "liking" lil's page. In my imagination this will accomplish the following:

  • my fb friends will no longer be subjected to my blog posts should they not want to be.
  • my many, many, many readers that are not my personal friends can now follow lil on fb.
  • I can put a "follow me on fb" button thingy on the blog.
  • I can spend more time on fb.
  • I can be even more obnoxious as lil as I'm separating my stuff and her stuff, although that probably wouldn't stand up in court.

I hope if you like the blog, you'll like lil's page on fb. Even if you don't like the blog that much (which is confusing since you are reading it right now), maybe you could like lil's page and then hide it, cuz it would be awesome to have lots of likes.

peace & love ;-)

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Which part of "Hug & Go" do you not understand?

Lady in the maroon Escalade who parked your ginormous gas guzzler at the ass end of the drop off lane by the Kindergarten rooms for a good 5 minutes whilst dicking around in your vehicle and not dropping off a Kindergartener and then finally pulling through to the front of the line past all the empty curb space you had been ignoring to drop off a 5th grader, I am talking to you!

Seriously! What. The. Fuck? 

Drop off/pick up at my kids' school is a nightmare. My kids make fun of me, because from the safety and comfort of my own car I spend every morning explaining to the other parents how to use the drop off lane effectively and efficiently. The other parents can't hear me of course, but even if they could it wouldn't matter, because people are asshats.

The school does a good job of trying to make things run smoothly. There are 2 lanes running the same direction through the parking lot. The one next to the curb is for stopping and dropping off the students. "Hug & Go" people. It's on all the signs! The other lane is for getting the hell outta there. After dropping your precious bundles off, you should pull into the outer lane and exit the parking lot. Simple, yes? Apparently not. 

The Principal and/or a teacher as well as students in bright orange vest are along the curb encouraging people to pull all the way through to keep the traffic flowing, yet people still stop at the back end to let out their Kinders jamming up the line into the street rather than pulling through to the farthest available curb space. It's an extra maybe 30 feet for the kid to walk back. If you are concerned that your kid might wander in the wrong direction and you need a visual of them walking in their classroom, might I suggest parking, getting your ass out of the car and walking them in. The best is when people park their car in the drop off lane and proceed to get out of their car with the kid to walk them to class. 

It would be easier on the blood pressure to park on the street, get out and walk the kids in, but Kindergarten starts at 7:40 in the a.m. and I much prefer to roll through the drop off lane in my pajamas. 

This morning, while I spent an eternity wedged between the nonmoving Caddy & some poor innocent parent behind me practically on my bumper just trying to get out of the street and into the drop off lane, I came oh so close to taking my sage advice out of my car and directly to the woman in the Escalade so clearly in need of my assistance. I considered laying on my horn and decided that would be pretty obnoxious and then I contemplated getting out of my car, knocking on her window and imparting my wisdom upon her. 2 things stopped me. 

1. I would be setting a terrible example leaving my car parked in the drop off lane during "hug & go" time.


2. I was in my robe.

Peace, love & deep breaths ;-)

Thursday, March 15, 2012


Be prepared to be irked. Possibly quite pissed. Maybe even reach through the computer and bitch slap somebody angry.

I am having the hardest time adjusting to real life after returning from the cruise. 

My breakfast view one week ago (Cabo)

I know, I know, you wish you had such problems. You want to smack me. Well, you can't. Go ahead and call me names. It might help. I totally understand. I'll wait...

I don't want you to worry about me though. I will be okay. 

One day soon I will snap out of it and stop: 
  • Being surprised that no one has come to tidy my house after we've left in the morning. 
  • Wondering where the towel animal and chocolates are and why my bed looks like it was never made instead of perfectly turned down.
  • Looking for the buffet.
  • Expecting a fabulous show before dinner.
  • Looking for Captain Jack Sparrow coming down the hallway.
  • Assuming I can sleep till whenever.
  • Wondering where my dining room servers are and what they've done with the chef.
  • Trying to drop my kids at super fun kids' clubs 100 yards from the house.
  • Thinking the biggest decisions of the day are what to drink, what time to start drinking, and what is the perfect pace for making it to all the desired activities.
I'm just going to have to accept that:
  • I'm the only one who will tidy the house.
  • The only towels on the bed will be damp ones left there after morning showers. There will be no turn down service.
  • The only buffets in town are not the kind I'm looking for.
  • The pre-dinner show here is homework and sports practices.
  • It's unlikely I can get Scott to don his Captain Jack outfit and wander around the house more than once a week.
  • It will be impossible to sleep in because I am back to mapping out the day and making lists in my head at 5 a.m.
  • Joseph & Arjay will not be handing me a menu and taking my order. They won't be sending the chef either.
  • I've got to take the kids to school and then chauffeur them to activities.
  • What & when to drink are still on the list, but are so far down it I can't quite see them from the top of the list in the morning.
Le sigh....

What's a sad, spoiled gal to do.... start researching and planning the next cruise of course. Silly people! More naming calling? Yep. I get it. 

Peace & Love ;-)

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Goodbye Reality

Scott and I are taking the children and a suitcase full of booze and going on a cruise.

Goodbye laundry.

Goodbye housekeeping.

Goodbye cooking.

Goodbye lacrosse, baton and tball practices.

Goodbye Facebook.

Goodbye Scrabble.

Goodbye phone calls, texts & emails.

Goodbye work.

Goodbye meetings.

Goodbye PTA & committees.

Goodbye kids' taxi service.

Goodbye blogging.

And goodbye peeps.

Monday, February 20, 2012

I'm Not Worthy

I must be doing something okay, because the accolades are rolling in. My fellow blogger Jo at the Bright Yellow Balloon Shenked me the other day. Thank you Jo?  

The Shenking, which I'll explain in a minute, reminded me that back in November Dani at Facebooking From The Edge bestowed on me the honor of Versatile Blogger. 

I thanked her, but never passed on the honor as was explicitly stated in the rules of said award. How rude. I have some excuses.

1. The end of October through mid January is really busy with birthdays and holidays. I'm lame.

2. I turned 40 in December and my short term ain't what it used to be. True story.

3. Scott, the girl and I all had the stomach flu last week. Was. Not. Pretty.

4. I'm actually not very good at this whole blogger networking thing. I get really excited when someone comments on my blog and I will leave comments on other blogs when the mood strikes, but regular commenting both because it's a nice thing to do in the blogging community and because it might interest someone in checking out my blog is not my strength. Plus, I feel pressure to make my comment funny. I don't always having something funny to say. Shhh. Don't tell Scott. (I realize leaving a comment and passing on an award aren't the same thing, in my mind there's a connection)

5. I have an inferiority complex. Many of the blogs I enjoy and would give an award to (aka recommend) are way famouser bloggers than me and they would probably never know about the award. Not that they would be rude about it. I just don't think my blog is on their radar. I could be wrong. Maybe The Bloggess is a regular lurker here.

So, back to the shenking. It's also a chain letter blogger to blogger recognition thing. It involves answering questions, giving random information about yourself (synonymous with blogging, no?), tagging, and creating questions or something like that. For Jo's clear as mud explanation check here.

Since I'm so late in responding to Dani's award and since Jo says I can play along or not and because I'm a rebel without a clue, I'm going pick some of Jo's things to do and combine The Versatile Blogger awards with the tagging list. Confused? Me too.

Things About Me (If you would like to know 25 more random things about me than you already do check here. It's an old post, but the stuff is still true.)

Jo's questions (I'm answering 3 of the 11. I'm a rebel remember.)

4. If your best friend's spouse ever made a pass at you, would you tell your best friend? Hell to the yeah!

6.  What destination would be your ideal vacation? Caribbean. Caribbean. Caribbean. Although, I'm willing to give the South Pacific or Seychelles a try.

7.  If you could change one thing about yourself (no effort involved), what would it be? Boobs. I need perkier, bigger boobs.

Blogs I Read (If you are on this list feel free to consider yourself Shenked and/or awarded the honor of Versatile Blogger. Also feel free to completely ignore this.)

Facebooking From The Edge 

The Bright Yellow Balloon 

Lola is 40  

A Day in the Life 

Absoulutely Narcissism 

Poppy Haus 

Eating Over the Sink

The Bloggess

peace & love ;-)