Charlie's Angels

christmas eve mass never fails to bring a tear to my eye. i don't know if it is the decorations, the music, or the sheer joy i feel when i am with my little family. this year was no different. my babies were not thrilled about going to mass, but little evita was calmed down with the promise that she could wear "magic sparkily shoes" with her dress. the best part of mass was the dimissial when "hark the herald angels sing" was sung, and both of my kids yelled, "hey, it's the charlie brown music!" both babies sang at the top of their lungs, using their own lyrics.

it was a pleasant christmas, and i do intent to stretch the holiday spirit throughout the week the kids are home from school. i haven't seen much of nik. he has been busy burning his brain cells playing xbox nonstop. i am trying not to feel guilty about this. emma is in good spirits, playing barbie in peril constantly, and thankfully, not requiring the participation of dan or me.

sadly, the tree is dead. it looks nice proped up in the snow at the curb. next year i must resist the urge to buy the tree a month before christmas.

blessing and peace to the world.

letting it go....

tis the season for just letting all the petty shit in your life go. simply drop it from your fingertips. let it fall from your hands, like a feather caught on a breeze. i am really trying to let it all go. let all my pent up frustrations just go. i am taking a broom and sweeping my brain clean. i refuse, I REFUSE, to get all caught up in all the same drama/bullshit that crowds my tiny mind most of the time.

my little evita is talking thru her nose. thank you christmas colds. i know that she is suffering. her head is hot, her nose is raw, but she is so damn cute. why is she so much more loving when she is sick. it is as if she thinks, "ok, i am sick. i better not pull any of my normal shit here. i need this crazy bitch to take care of me. the only way i can get a popsicle is to sweet talk her."

and so, little miss stuffy-head has me wrapped around her finger. "tanks omma" i love her.

when i am in the process of letting all the shit go, i really enjoy talking to people who are busy getting themselves all worked up. it reminds me of lenny bruce. back when he was being sued by just about everyone and shooting a nice cosy mixture of cocaine and heroin, he stopped doing regular stand up routines. instead he would just read out his court transcripts to the audience. he was confused as to why the audience didn't have the same response he did.

problems, or communication breakdowns occur when your world has become so small that only you and your deluded personality fit. it is times like this it is best to step outside yourself and look in. if the picture isn't as pretty as you thought it is time to make a change. it seems like the holiday season brings out the worst in people. as if we should stop and say, "oh my god! i can't believe how unfair the world is to you. poor baby!" suck it up and LET IT GO.

my babies always help me put things back into perspective. why the fuck should i care about some-stupid-such-and-such, when i have one baby with a cold and one baby who has just given birth to a reincarnation of mickey rooney. everything here is swell. and why shouldn't it be? just let it go.....

THE BLUE SLOTH

any one out there feeling a little empty inside? is there someone out there putting their kids to bed and then sneaking off for a good cry? anybody else sick of hearing, "parenthood is a process...there is no completion." is there another parent out there who is sick of being told, "nobody said raising kids would be easy." i am sure a frontal lobotomy isn't either.

please take a moment and read this particular entry of a great guy who has just about at the end of his rope. he is husband, father, artisit, and very very insightful on how it feels to be a parent.

the blue sloth
http://artweld.blogs.com


thank you phillip.....

the randomness of every day things....

these are things that have made me say, "huh...."

rugby. can i say it? i love rugby.

what is nick rhodes obsession with being a space alien? is he not able to smile with all that lipstick?

why does jennifer lopez feel the need to make a video that replicates the movie flashdance?

is the manchester city team good enough to win this year?

why are the majority of my thoughts related to "all things english?"

how much is too much when pushing someone over the edge?

why does dan need to have a gameboy advanced?

if i don't eat anything during the day, why is my kitchen a mess?

is it bad to let your children go to bed at 6:30 PM?

what is the deal with all the reality tv? what happen to good old fashion primetime dramas?

why does the bbc america channel show nothing but english home improvement shows?

why must the office end?

why do people have to use the correct pronouncation when saying things like, provolne cheese or genoa salami?

did you know how inexpensive a trip to egypt is?

why did the black crowes break up?

what is with the new "elite" being rich, young and spoiled americans?

must it be so cold to have snow?

is sweden really covered in a blue haze this time of year?

how much kleenex can i use in one day?

why must emma play use the holy family to play her star wars games?

how did i ever get two children who are so beautiful......

that is a real mystery...

somebody up there really likes me....

my beloved sparky. today is my love's birthday. we don't make a big deal about birthday's or christmas, i say "we" as in dan and me. we have learned to make every day special. i know i may sound completely corny, but we truly view each day we have together as a gift. i can't put into words how much this man means to me. i know i have written a great deal about him and all that makes him wonderful, but i couldn't resist sharing one moment.....

quite a few years ago (before babies) dan and i had gone out for an evening. this meant both of us getting dressed up in fancy clothes, a fancy dinner and staying out past 1 am. it had been a lovely evening and we both enjoyed ourselves and the company of friends. upon returning home we both changed into our p.j.'s, i made a big bowl of popcorn and we watched an old bette davis movie on tv. during the commercial, dan leaned over to me and whispered, "this is the best part of the entire evening."

this is what i love best about dan. you can take all your fancy dinners, fancy clothes, entertaining people and stimulating conversation. dan would rather be alone with me. i don't know if this is a sickness on his part. i know i feel the same way. sure, there is a lot of very interesting things to do and see in the world, but what better place to be than snuggled up with the love of my life. i realize i gush, but can you tell me what is better than stretching your foot across the bed in the middle of the night and touch toes with your love? the man can still make me blush.

daniel, you are my love and my best friend. i am soooooo proud of you. you take such great care of me and your children. you have my admiration and my respect. for now and always. i love you to death, sparky!!!

swimming in the deep river of denial

this is what i should be doing. i should be cleaning my house RIGHT NOW. the babysitter is coming early this afternoon so that dan and i can go out for the evening. this means i have about 3 hours to put my house in order. i am not moving. i am sitting here contemplating what needs to be done and where i should begin. really this is just procrastination, but i am pretending that i am forming a plan of action.

the boy's room. my son's room smells. smells bad. i don't know why or what is causing this smell. he has no food, no strange animals, no toxic chemicals and yet, his room has an odor. it is a combination of feet and pent-up energy. i asked dan this morning, "WHAT IS IT?" his reply, "boy." his room smells like boy, pure and simple and incredibly stinky.

evita's domain. picture a room in which you can't see the floor because of the 1,000's of hair clips, pretty ponies, polly pocket pieces, dental floss (all pulled out of the container) and my maxi pads (some opened, some not). i asked evita, "what is going on in here?" her reply, "i am working on something." ok. fine. WHAT IS IT AND WHY MUST ALL OF MY MAXI PADS BE INVOLVED?

the basement. oh fuck off. can't i just put caution tape across the stairs and deny entrance?

the kitchen. come on people, throw me a bone.

the living room. this i can handle. i simply will take an empty laundry basket, fill it with all the stuff from the living room, put this in the basement, and then run the vaccuum. there all done. that wasn't so bad. now that i am all done i can take a quick nap, put my feet up and eat some bon-bons. ahh, this is the life.

crap. ok, now i need to go and clean. don't ask me why i need to clean for the babysitter. if you are asking this question you simply are not insane enough to understand the inner workings of my twisted brain. don't you know that all babysitters secretly work for child protective services. they come to your house and once you leave they start their inspection. how clean is the house? are the children wearing clean clothes? do their rooms smell of feet? is there any decent food for these kids to eat?

true story: last time dan and i went out, upon returning home our babysitter greeted me with the following:

"yeah, um emma peed all over herself so i had to give her a bath." (shit, the tub is one place that i never clean before she comes. the bottom of the tub is full of empty shampoo bottles that nik must have and barbie heads that emma loves. there is hardly any room for kids at all.)

"and, um, i gave them a hot dog because i thought they should eat something besides cookies, chips and pop. hot dogs were the only things i could find." (fuck!!!!!! can someone please scrape me off the bottom of her shoe? am i the worst mother? obviously the answer is yes.)

"they were so hyper, probably from all the sugar, they totally crashed. and i couldn't find their pajama's."

i expect to hear from the authorities at any second. now do you see why i must participate in this charade that my house is always clean, as are the children and that i have provided healthy things for them to eat? now do you see? this is why i hate going out at all. what the fuck was dan thinking by making me go out on a friday night? why must i do this. cleaning and i must make myself presentable, as well. now do you see why i am just sitting here?

i am going to end it. i am going to go into nik's room and close the door. hopefully the fumes will do me in and i won't have to go tonight. farewell.......

take my husband, PLEASE

these are things about dan that cause me to dream about putting a steak knife in his neck and collecting the insurance money:

he spends 20 minutes in the shower EVERY SINGLE DAY. what the fuck is he doing in there? fuck if i know!

when i announce that the house is filthy and everyone must help me clean, dan decides this is a perfect time to start cleaning his office, or even better, the junk drawer. i nearly killed him before thanksgiving when i am scrubbing the kitchen floor on my hands and knees and he comes to me with the following: "hey, why the hell do we have 'icing that writes' in the house? do we really need this? there must be 3 packages of this crap in the drawer. and what about all those screws? what is up with that? are you saving them for some craft project with the kids. boy there sure is a lot of junk in that drawer!" no shit, it is a junk drawer.

at least 3 mornings every week dan will ask, "do i have any clean socks?" while looking in his sock drawer. as if i am the keeper of all clean socks. mine, they are all mine, hee hee hee! i am not sharing!

he insists, REALLY INSISTS that his nighttable be free of all "kid debris" no action figures, no hair clips, no "notes" no nothing! he must remove all items every night before he goes to sleep. why? there must be room for the laptop, cell phone, iPod, MacWorld magazine, dental floss and about 1,000 receipts from various purchases including a sub sandwhich, cd, socks (a silent protest against me) and various parts of computer equipment.

he puts my bras in the drier -- AFTER LIVING TOGETHER FOR 12 YEARS! DOES HE NOT KNOW THIS BY NOW!!!!

in the morning, when i am running around like a headless chicken, attempting to get the kids ready for school without killing them, he will stand in the middle of the hallway and ask: "what can i do?" capture the naked girl that just ran past you and put some underwear on her. or, take the toothpaste away from your son before he eats the entire tube.

he will come home from work and find me in a puddle of tears and ask, "what is the deal with dinner?"


this is how he saves himself from death:

toilet seat is always down.
trips to taco bell at 1:30 am.
new roll of toilet paper on holder.
brings home chai tea from starbucks -- venti-sized.
flowers for no reason.
diamond ring.
absolute devotion to his family.
folds clean laundry.
puts clean laundry away.
sings to me in the shower.
loves me UNCONDITIONALLY.
buys new sponges for kitchen sink.
puts kids to bed regularly.
reads to his kids, and likes it.
fills my gas tank, and wiper fluid.
tucks me into bed.
puts my clean pj's under my pillow.

ok, i guess i will keep him. i just needed to vent.....

wwjd?

let me start by saying i am a roman catholic. i want this to be very clear. i wasn't born a catholic. far from it. my parents, both raised catholic, decided that it was in their children's best interest to not inforce any set beliefs onto their kid's young minds. instead, my parents preached education and world travel. they expected my sister and i to go to college, get a degree, travel thru europe and then move out on our own. marriage and children were never mentioned. my mother's thought was, "why marry? go see italy before it falls into the ocean. children? i didn't even have you until i was 36. by then i had a job and a plan for my life. surely your plan involves something other than getting married?"

um, well, it did. my perfect sister did exactly what was expected of her. she did go away to school (4 years at UofM and didn't see a single football game, much to the old man's chagrin). after graduation, she did travel for 2 months thru europe, got a fashionable haircut and slept on a boat in Amsterdam that carried in hash, and drank her way thru germany. upon returning home, she promptly moved out of my folk's house into a house with her boyfriend. the same boyfriend that she later married some 10 years later, once she was 5 months pregnant. never once did religion play a role in her life. her husband is jewish, but never saw the inside of a synagoge. since her children have expressed an interest, she provides both a christmas tree and a menora. although, she says that christmas trees have nothing to do with "all that jesus crap."

all that jesus crap.

well, i was supposed to follow her example. however, when i was 6 my dad's mother came to live with us. at the time, she had terminal cancer and had decided that she did not want to die in a hospital. she had been a devout catholic her whole life, and i can imagine it was hard for her to see her oldest son did not share her passion for a religious life. my grandmother never spoke to me about religion, but her religion surrounded her. her home was full of religious statues, she attended mass daily, and when she was living with us she brought the aura of her religion with her. her faith was so much a part of her. it was not something she separated from herself. instead her faith was simply part of her genetic makeup. i would always check on her after i returned home from school and i would often find her quietly praying the rosary. when i would ask her what that necklace was, she simply replied, "oh, just some faith beads." the faith beads were quickly tucked away under her blanket. she respected that my parents did not want me undully influenced into any faith. there was always an air of respect between my deeply religious grandmother and my communist parents.

those were the days. the whole idea of respecting someone's opinion, EVEN IF IT DIFFERS FROM YOURS is non-existant now.

i did not undertake my coversion to catholicism easily. it took a total of 3 1/2 years for the entire process to end. and it is not really an ending, but rather a beginning of my religious life. i spent most of those 3 plus years learning about the church's views on various issues. i wanted to understand why the church felt the way it does. part of me was afraid that i would become a right-wing religious nut. i feared becoming one of those hated women who stand out in front of abortion clinics, holding up a poster of a fetus. or, i would start questioning the right of men to live with men and raise children. i actually lost sleep thinking i was going to completely change who i was as a person.

i did change. completely. but not the way i thought i would. i am catholic. in fact, i am the church's worst nightmare. i am pro-choice, believe in birth control, don't give a shit about gay people getting married or having children AND i understand the church's views on such social issues. i have actually read the catechism that shapes the church's teachings AND i respect their position. it just has not become my position. i really do pray twice daily. i spend that time thanking god for my blessings and asking for help. not to make me that catholic the church feels i should be, but help to make me more like my grandmother. i don't want my faith to be something separate from my daily life, but rather part of my daily life. i don't have to go around converting every one around me. if someone asks me, i have no problem saying i am a catholic. but, don't ask me to defend my beliefs or my church. my faith is mine and mine alone.

i didn't try this religion on for size. i have made a committment to this faith, for me and my family. religion has become such a touchy subject, mostly because people try and convince you that their faith is the best or the only path to god. i can't tell other people what to believe. i don't even like to tell people why i choose the path i did. all i can say is that it is between me and jesus.

and yes, i do have a personal relationship with the son of my savior. and why shouldn't i? he brings me great comfort. who else can comfort me when i am wallowing in self-pity, overwhelmed by parenthood, frustrated at being me? good old, JC! can i get a whoop whoop for the big guy? i find it annoying when i hear people say that jesus instructed them to do such and such. as if jesus has nothing better to do then tell miserable, petty people that they should openly pass judgement on the world around them. yeah, that's the message i hear in church every week: "be mean and petty. judge those around you. hold humanity in contempt. be vocal about your hate." wwjd? i shudder to think what he would make of the world today.

of course, the 3 plus years that i studied to become catholic were really hard on my parents, who feared what would become of me. well, i survived and so did they. no, i am not going to attempt to bring them back to the church, even if it would get me bonus points with god. just as they are happy without god in their lives, i am happy with god in my life. what i have become is less tolerant of those "religious" people who make a showcase of their religion at the expense of people around them. i ask to be more understanding and patient with humanity in general, but these people push my buttons.

what can i say, i am a work in progress. hey, even the world took a few days and we are still working out the kinks.