Micromanage this!

I admit it. I am a bit of a micromanager. I bark directions and yelp orders all day long. I am bossy and controlling. I just never let anyone up for air.

“Get up. Get dressed. Drink your milk. Brush your teeth. Out the door. In the car. Buckle up. Don’t yell. Don’t run. Say hello. Please share. Don’t hit. Please be nice. Eat your snack. Wipe your mouth. Say goodbye. Wash your hands. Eat your lunch. Close your mouth. Clean up. Play nice. Share your things. Take a rest. Time to eat. Sit down. Eat your peas. Drink your juice. No dessert. Did ya wipe? Don’t whine. Mind your manners. No TV. Take a bath. Don’t splash. In your jammies. Brush your teeth. Say your prayers. Kiss goodnight. Turn off the light. Go to sleep. Sweet dreams.”

And, then, I turn my wrath on hubby.

“Remote, please. Rub my feet. Not now. Go to sleep.”

Those dog days....

So, they call 'em the dog days of summer? The way I see it, these lazy summery days are more like cat days.

Dozing, belly up, in the sun. Stretching and yawning the day away. Meditative. Relaxed. The Devil may care. Purrrr.

Yep. The cat days of summer.

A dog?

Well, a dog is for September. Up and at ‘em. Ears perked and tail a waggin’. Eager to greet the day. Attentive and enthusiastic.

The dog days of Autumn.

There ya go. Just a little more accurate, I say.

Woof.

You’re welcome.

Luck be a Lady.....

I was simply on fire. On a roll. Luck be a lady. Baby’s got a new pair of shoes.

I simply brought the house down.

All that and it was only 10:00 AM.

I was at the local MOMS Club Mother’s Day raffle. I bought 5 tickets and all 5 were winners. My biggest win was a $900 laser leg hair removal package.

A week later, I went to the Medical Spa to claim my wonderful prize.

Zzzap! Ouch. Zzzap! Ouch. Zzzap! Ouch. Zzzap! Ouch.

Afterwards, I looked at the welts on my legs and realized that beauty does come with a price tag.

Indeed.

OK, so maybe it was free for me, but you get the picture.

How About a Little Nap?

I feel robbed. Burglarized. Cheated, really.

My preschooler has given up her afternoon nap.

My daily 2 hour oasis of peace and tranquility is no more. Like a puff of smoke, a spray of mist, a candle in the wind. Puff. Gone. No more. A relic of the past.

I wasn’t going for the whole idea at first, of course.

“Whatcha mean, you’re not tired? Lay down. Grrrrrrrrr!”

I wasn’t one for changing up the schedule.

“When I say, Sleep, kid, I mean, SLEEP.”

I was inflexible.

“Sleep! Sleep!”

I was grumpy, selfish and guided by my own agenda.

“Look here. I got a date with Danielle Steele and a box of chocolates. Mess with me and there’s gonna be trouble.”

I was completely married to an old schedule.

“It’s 1:30! Snooze! Now! Now! Now!”

And, I certainly wasn’t going to take things laying down. ( Ahem.)

“SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPP NOOOOOOW!”

Needless to say, it took some time before I accepted things. But, in the end, I began to realize little girls grow up, naps fall by the wayside along with diapers and pacifiers. (thank goodness)

And, mammas need to find their oasis elsewhere.

Mommy’s Night Out, anyone? First round’s on me.

Author’s note. I know, I know…But, Quiet Time in their room with a book just isn’t working here. Something about a slime monster in the closet. Another post. Another day.

Blogging- A Winter Sport?

I’ve come to the conclusion that blogging is a winter sport. It’s right up there with snowshoeing and tobogganing.

I’ve noticed recently during my travels through the blogosphere, many of my fellow bloggees…ah…bloggos……ah….never mind…are a bit distracted. It seems most are camping, gardening, sunbathing and the like.

I decided to consult a local social scientist to see if the empirical evidence I have gathered is indeed substantiated.

Mammatalk: So, Doctor. Do bloggers blog in June?

Doctor Blogger: This is dependent on the location of the bloggee. The closer to the Poles the bloggee resides, the longer the Blogging season. The winters in the Polar Regions tend to be longer. As such, Polar dwelling Homo Sapiens tend to habituate indoors longer seeking intellectual stimulation in front of electronic devices.

Mammatalk: Ummm-Hmmm…

Doctor Blogger: Conversely, the closer a Homo Sapien resides to the equator, the more likely blogging behavior will decrease in June. Subsequently, an increase will be noted in outdoor behaviors …. bird watching for example.

Mammatalk: Ah…yeah?

Doctor Blogger: However, we do have a few anomalies. For example… the bloggee who resides in an area with mild year round weather. To these bloggees, a sunny day is merely a sunny day. Not a distraction.

Mammatalk: Yo, Doc. Pass the sunscreen?

Doctor Blogger: My point exactly.

5 Minutes for Parenting

Today, I have the honor of being featured here on 5 Minutes for Parenting in their A Dose of Humor weekly column. If you would like to link up your funniest moment of the week, be sure to pay them a visit.

Happy Birthday, Cowboy!

Chocolate Bandit

He couldn’t be guiltier if he had been holding a smoking gun.

He was standing there wearing his boxers and a lopsided grin. And, he was holding the empty box of Dreyer’s chocolate peanut butter ice cream

“You wanted some?” He asked, attempting to display belated concern.

The gall. The indecency. The lack of civility.

“Scoundrel!” I muttered under my breath, turning on a swift heel.

Now, let’s hope he doesn’t discover the missing Hershey’s chocolate bar that was hidden in his top desk drawer.

Because, that would make me a hypocrite.

Or something. No?

Yep. The smoke's comin' from my blog....

Alright, gang! Secret’s out. I suffer from a mean case of kitchen phobia.

One little oopsie with an Easy Bake oven back in the 70’s and I’m wounded for life.

I didn’t fare much better when I flew the nest. Domino’s Pizza pretty much kept my head above water in the dorms.

In my twenties, I was a single, career-woman-on-the-go racking up bar…Ahem…I mean, restaurant tabs all over town.

And, then I fell in love with a man who cooked…very well. Glamorous as this life may sound…and it is rather cushie here on the couch listening to those pots and pans clang away…The fact remains, this has only added to my phobia. It’s classic kitchen co-dependence.

Sure. I can make a mean pb&j…and thank God for instant macaroni, but….do I need to go on?

There have been a few awkward moments at our dinner parties.

“So glad you could come. Hubby’s in the kitchen …..making…..something…..yeah, that’s it. Something.”

“More wine? Let me see if I can go find the refrigerator….”

“The flavor? Dunno. But, if you ask ol’ fancy pants in the apron, I’m sure he’d fill ya in.”

I’ve had countless reactions.

From an envious…

“How’d ya score that deal?”

To a slightly venomous…

“Whatcha mean you don’t do kitchens?”

To the occasional confessional…

“Yeah, my hubby, too! Shhh!”

However, recently, I feel a metamorphosis occurring. The stars are aligned.

My girls are curious about cooking. I stumbled upon some great cooking blogs. And, hubby has been travelling for business.

Makes for a spiffy combination.

Yep,ladies, things are finally cooking in the kitchen.

Psst… anyone out there know what a wok looks like?

The Elixir

A band aid yields great power in my little mommy world. A paper cut, a bruise, a bump…real or imagined….quickly gets covered with a bright pink band aid in our house. A band aid gives the victim the proper attention and soothing. It lowers the blood pressure of all involved. It turns down the volume of the screaming and eases the drama. It initiates the healing process. And, it’s decorative to boot.

It’s an elixir, really. Calming. Soothing. It makes nice- nice. The ultimate fix it.

Magic in a box. Pure and simple.

When was the last time you applied a band aid to your knee?

AHHHH. All better.

That, a glass of wine, and some Brie cheese and I just may be on to something, ya think?