The Mini Van Soap Box

Safe to say that the background soundtrack of our house is channel 144 - The Food Network. It's clean, family friendly programming that allows us to devote the appropriate amount of attention to play-doh or coloring, but still glance up occasionally and get the gist of what is going on. Her favorites: Rachel Ray, Paula Dean, Alton Brown and the lady who pronounces mozzarella as MOOT- zarella.

The Food Network and cooking/baking in general overflows into other things we do as well. A favorite game of hers is to "cook" while she's in the bathtub. She's got a slew of little toys and buckets and cups that serve as her baking dishes and bowls. This game works well on many levels, it reinforces what I had her help me with in the kitchen and also works on her counting and numbers. I would like to share with you her recipe for cake. Please feel free to make it and let me know. I'm afraid I don't have the required ingredients in the house.

27 cups flour
12 cups sugar
4 cups vanilla
1 cup baking soda
8 cups broccoli
4 cups vegetables and rice
4 cups oranges and peaches
lemon zest

(I'm not kidding about the lemon zest either - - she actually picked a toy up and rubbed it against the bowl to make the zest)

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In another fun bath time game - she and I decided to work on her animal identification. Most of the toys that I mentioned above are primarily of an animal nature. The other night though, the game took a slight turn and instead of simply just identifying the animals - it was what each animal likes to eat.

The following should be read quickly without taking any breath at all and without any punctuation.

I read an interesting article the other day about the state of affairs in the United States right now. Maybe "interesting" isn't the right word...more like depressing, dismal, desolate...gloomy. The word "recession" is burning our retinas and the proof is in every thing we have to buy or do - or rather in the things we can't buy or can't do.

Turns out that that McDonald's coffee sales are skyrocketing and Starbucks are declining. Folks are making some financial choices in their day to day lives - hence, buying a 99 cent every day coffee over the $5.15 half caf extra hot skim mocha latte.

Not too surprising that a lot of other industries are taking a big hit as well - Spas and Beauty Parlors, Movie Theaters, almost all retail, and grocery stores are noting a major spike in coupons.

However, unfortunately there is one thing we can't get away from.

Gas.

And it's starting to give me the shits.

Like many parents, we spend our lives in our cars. Mine...the ultra cool mama minivan...has put on countless of miles between school, gymnastics, post office, bank, doctors visits, grocery store and of course, work. And just this morning I had to fill up or push the damn thing the rest of the way.

$57.24 to fill up the tank. And I know my California friends are getting sucker punched much harder than that.

What was your last gas bill and any interesting ways of keeping costs down on other things?

Anyone have a recipe for home made beer using cardboard and mulch? That would help me out A LOT.

My husband, God love him, leaves our house every morning at 5:15 for work. He then drives to a bus, that takes him to a train, that takes him downtown and then walks the rest of the way to the office. A lot of people do it in this area (I know this because of the "I didn't get a seat on the train this morning" or the "You wouldn't believe how bad this guy smelled on the bus"), I, however could never be one of those people. The idea in itself seems like a job - but to do all that - and then still have to go to work?? Blech.

Anyway, one of the major staples for a commute this this is an iPod, or music player of choice. He's had his for quite some time now - probably since they first came out with them. They've been upgraded and snazzed up as with most electrical devices are - and he's being chomping at the bit for a new one for some time now.

How convenient that I started working out - and currently the only thing to watch and/or motivate me at the Gym is CNN or Golf. Both respectable programming, sure - but not exactly what I need to get pumped and go the extra mile.

Enter Ebay!

I got him a great deal on the new iPod touch and when it arrived I received his old one. Not exactly the color choice I would have picked - but hey, I strap it to a sweaty arm every day.

There is one inherit problem with me having music blaring in my ears in public. I have to try VERY HARD not to sing.........or dance.

I've twice now lost my footing on the elliptical because the Bee Gee's came on.

So, this morning before going to the gym, I added some songs to my new blue iPod.

Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to not start running in place and empty my water bottle over my head when Maniac from Flashdance comes on??

I will freely admit that there are certain days we allow the off spring to veg in front of the tv. There are just those times when she is so out of control - almost begging us to put her on baby Ridalin - that as a last ditch effort we'll throw her in front of the tv. She has her favorite shows, and for the most part I don't have a problem with them at all. They all seem to try to teach a life lesson of some sort - learn to share, be nice to others, don't bite, etc.

Much different than the life lessons I could have learned....like dropping an Acme 50 ton weight on someones head will get me what I want.

Anyway, I can safely say that after 3 1/2 years, my husband and I have probably watched 4,000 episodes of The Little Einsteins. After that many episodes, it's starting to make me wonder.... Who are these people that animate this show? And what exactly is the proverbial corporate ladder within animation studios? Is the bottom rung getting coffee and being someones bitch....Or animating Saturday morning cartoons?

The Little Einsteins - for those that don't know - is a music based cartoon. Each adventure is based on, say, chasing musical notes down to finish a concerto....or singing the correct notes to get the magical door to open. Personally, I think it's great - Music is very important - and at this point my daughter can say things like "Fortissimo, Adagio - Pirouette and Port de bras".

With the exception of their abnormally huge heads, only four fingers on each hand, eyebrows that seem to float independently from their heads and eyeballs the size of dinner plates....I really don't have a problem with the show.

I just get confused sometimes. Why do they have to go over the mountain....Why can't they go around it? In yesterdays episode they were, once again, chasing some musical instruments down and came upon three mountains. They had to problem solve and figure out a way over the mountain..(which is interesting because they fly around in a ROCKET).....Seriously, why can't they just go around it? Why make it more difficult than it needs to be.

Yes, I realize that I have over analyzed a children's cartoon once again....but it just seems to me that unless you are a Von Trapp child, there's really no reason to run up the mountain when the magical clarinet is right there on the ground. Sometimes it's okay to take the easy road.

I lived in a great neighborhood when I was a kid. Almost every other house had a kid that was about the same age as me, so when you inevitably broke up with your BFF, there was another one around the corner. I, however, was fortunate enough to have one best friend for the better part of all my childhood years. We still talk at least once a year despite living on opposite sides of the country and I believe we will always hold a special place in each others hearts.

After all, his was the very first pee-pee I saw. A memory like that stays with you forever. Especially when your five years old and your mother catches you "if you show me yours I'll show you mine!"

Anyway, it was a great neighborhood - a neighborhood that barely exists these days. Not that the houses and trees are gone...but that the idea of the neighborhood is slowly dying these days. There was not a day that I didn't play outside as FAR away from the parental eye as possible - and that was the norm. 'Be back before it gets dark' was the common response to "I'm playing outside".

On one of those occasions, my friend Greg and I decided to play at his house - since both of his folks worked and we had the place to ourselves. Growing bored of the latest episode of The Great Space Coaster and whatever current trouble we were causing, Greg had the most brilliant idea EVER.

His mom had gone to whatever at the time was the equivalent of Price Club, and had come back with about 400 cases of yogurt. Let's see how much yogurt we can eat - whoever eats the most wins.

And by winning I mean - who throws up first, loses.

I have no idea how many empty cartons of yogurt lay littered all over the coffee table, but I know it was a lot. I also know that I lost - by a fraction of a second. True friendship shows itself in those that can vomit together.

Still to this day, I have no idea why we thought it was a good idea. But the next day we laughed our fool heads off at how freakin' brilliant we were. Next on the list was snorting Pixie Sticks.

But that's another story.

Anyway, so most of you know that I've started working out. I'm working on two full weeks now, and while although I am NOT on a diet, I am watching what I eat and trying to make better decisions.

I settled down yesterday to have a whole wheat turkey sandwich and Yoplait Go Crunch Yogurt.

Apparently, 20 years later, I still can't eat yogurt.

For the last 24 hours I have been contemplating this post. Apparently there is a thing called "tagging" among us bloggers and as of yesterday morning - I was tagged. I have been challenged to write a Meme (that's what it's called....really). I have been given a topic on which to write about and rules to follow, thanks to Mumma Boo.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hated school? Did I ever tell you guys that I dropped out of college? Me - thinking - classrooms - assignments: Not a good mix. It hurts my brain. I would much rather be thinking about ways I can rearrange my living room or how I can manage to find out where my personal trainer lives and nail all her doors shut so she can't get out.

However, I can not explain how happy it makes me to have readers AT ALL. So therefore, I will comply and compose my essay.

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Today's Topic: 5 Classes I Wish They Had Taught In School

1. Bad Boys Are Really Just That: BAD!
Prerequisite: None - With the exception of poor judgment of character and low self esteem
In this class we will explore the many different ways one can shield themselves from low life scum boyfriends that will suck you dry and make you feel as though you are a loser.

Optional Elective Courses: Do Not Let Him Move In With His Dog and Under No Circumstances Are You To Marry Him!

2. National Television Theory 101
Prerequisite: Must Be A TV Whore
This class will give you the tools in which you will need to make sound choices in your television viewing. Completion of this course will eliminate the desire to watch shows, and desperately love, that will ultimately be canceled by the 5th airing.

3. Padawan Training: Beginner
Prerequisite: Appropriate Amount Of Midichlorians
All beginning Jedi must take this course to learn the art of Mind Control. Would you like him to clean the bathroom? Would you like her to sit down and stop singing Twinkle Twinkle little star for 5 damn minutes? Would you like the asshole in the corvette in front of you to actually learn where the gas pedal is? When you satisfactorily complete this course everyone's mind will be your playground.

Advanced Electives: Jedi Knight Training, Learn To Move Things With Your Mind. A handy power to have when she's gotten out of bed for the 18th time.

4. Mary Poppins Cleaning: Crash Course
Prerequisite: A Dirty House
This class is a down and dirty advanced course on cleaning the house by simply singing a song. By courses end you can clean your house by simply sitting on your ass and drinking a beer as long as you sing a peppy little tune in between sips.

5. Advanced Toddler : The Dead Language
Prerequisite: A 3 1/2 year old that thinks made up words are the FUNNIEST THING EVER
By the end of this 12 week course you will not only understand everything she says but you will also find it as freakin' funny as she does. "Twinkle Twinkly Little Pompop" "Daddy is a Fhrugh" will have you rolling on the floor. **A physicians note is required for this course as a large amount of alcohol and drugs are used in the training process**
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So, there you have it. My task is complete.

By the rules, I am supposed to tag 5 others....Pass the torch in a way. I actually found this to be the hardest part of this challenge.......

The Sylvester 4 - Big B
You Must Be Joking - C-Rah
Mind Of A Mad Women - Mad Woman Meg
Bill and Jill - Bill and Jill
One.O.Eight- Tacitus
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* Link to the person that tagged you.
* Post the rules on your blog
* Blog about the 5 classes you wish they'd have taught in school
* Tag random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
* Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.
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As a side note....I have, like many others do, a stat counter that tells me the hits this website gets on a daily basis and where they come from. For the amount of traffic I get here....ya'll certainly are quiet.

Come on people....Say Hi!

Ever have a weekend where nothing out of the norm happens? Yea, I have almost nothing interesting to write about...and let me assure you I was looking for something to write about. I'm always keeping my eyes and ears open for the strange things that happen around me so I can judge people later and share it with all of you.....However, this was a totally normal, completely non-interesting weekend.

Saturday we were up early for her gymnastics class - which she loves, and apparently is kind of a natural (or so says the gym teacher). I do enjoy the gymnastics class quite a bit actually...mostly because I don't have to be involved. I get to sit in the parental aquarium and watch behind a wall of glass. I'm always prepared to give myself an hour of quiet...I'll bring a book or the paper....but 9 times of out of 10 I won't even pull it out. I'll end up chatting with another parent about how much our kids suck....Or watching the class in awe and confusion wondering "Who IS this child that does everything the teacher tells her to do without throwing a tantrum!?"

Rush home and back out again for yet another birthday party. However, these people didn't make us go to Chuck-E-Cheese. THESE people are cool enough to have a birthday party for 4 year olds AND supply booze for the parents. (mental note to hang out with them again)

Side note: I can only assume that the majority of the population was having some serious hot monkey sex the entire summer of 2004...Because I have 4 year old birthday parties packing every Saturday from now until September.

Sunday morning I was hoping that the morning would be a great time to hit the gym because most normal people would be at church. Alas, no. Heathens we all are. Regardless, I got a good hour workout in. Grocery store, cleaned the house, did laundry, re-arranged her room (again), paid the bills, and managed to watch a whole movie.

See? Nothing interesting.

I did have an uncomfortable conversation with someone at the gym though.

Apparently I talk loud. Yea, I know - not exactly a news flash. But last Tuesday during my workout I mentioned to my trainer that I couldn't stay any longer than the hour and forty five I was already there, because I had a laser appointment. Not something I've mentioned to any of ya'll as of yet, because I really don't know how to explain it without sounding raunchy.

Anyway, apparently an older guy overheard last week - and was on the stationary bike right next to mine.

He asked how my eye sight was.....

"Um...fine thanks"
"You've recovered well? It didn't hurt at all"
"I'm sorry. Do I know you? Did what hurt at all?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I overheard that were having laser done. Just wondering if it hurt at all."

This is where is realize that he thinks I got LAZIK eye surgery - Not laser hair removal for my hoo-ha and underarms.

"OH!" I say. "Um, I didn't get laser for my eyes - It's....um...laser hair removal...."

Silence.

"Well, good luck with that" and then he leaves rather quickly.

I think he was a hell of a lot more embarrassed than I was.

I was sitting at a major four way stop the other day. This intersection is probably eight lanes across on all four sides...minutes from our major highway and right across the street from a major shopping mall. Anyway, I'm in my hot mama mini van waiting the 20 minutes for the light to change to green and notice a begger out of the corner of my eye. Not necessarily common place in this area - but also not all that surprising. We'll often get the fire department / police department or some other organization standing at busy intersections with buckets asking for donations for the latest cause.

However, this guy....not with an organization. Just a dude. With a card board sign and a backpack.

Where my car was situated, I could only get the back view of this guy - so I'm not exactly sure what his sign said....But CLEARLY it said "Fuck You Guy With Hair Piece In the Green Accord".

Hair piece guy gets out of his car and just went ape shit on this guy. Now, I'm a firm believer in everyone earning their own way - and if you're homeless - get some help - learn a skill - try to get a job. Start at the bottom. Work your way up. Easy for me to say, sure...But hair piece guy went berserk. Arms are flailing and wagging his finger in his face.

Personally, I just ignore the people asking for money (unless it's the cops..."remember I gave you money") This guy takes another tactic all together.

Obviously I couldn't hear what he was saying, so for all I know he could have been offering him a job and was REALLY excited about the opportunity to work with this guy. But I'm going to guess from the tuck and cover position that homeless guy was taking - he would not be throwing on a suit and tie for an interview any time soon.

A few minutes later, the traffic light has changed and his side of traffic has the green light. However, this guy feels so impassioned by what he's saying he never gets back into his car (despite the honking horns) and the light turns back to red - now all he's done is piss off half of the population of Tyson's Corner that want to take a left onto Route 7.

That's a good days work if you ask me. Verbally abuse a homeless person and receive 47 death threats.

I have Tuesdays off of work. It wasn't exactly by choice that this happened - but as long as the real estate market is in the crapper - we had to make some cut backs at the office. Financially it hurts to lose a whole day of pay, but we all agreed to take one for the team. Now that it's been this way for a while I've come to realize that my Tuesdays are a God send. I have a full time career, I'm a full time mother and a full time wife. That a lot of things on a "to do" list.

The point?

I was able to schedule my first personal trainer session yesterday during the day.

I think I'll beg my boss to let me come back to work full time now.

We started at 10:00 am sharp with the obligatory questionnaire session. "Do you have diabetes, do you have bad knees, are you a cross dresser and dance naked in your backyard" All fairly easy questions and for the most part I was pretty honest. Took my weight, age, height, body fat and DNA sample and we were off to the gym. (DNA sample in case I spontaneously combust and they have to identify my body)

An HOUR and FORTY FIVE minutes later - I finally had to stop her. If this was truly what she wanted me to do every other day as a routine, I might as well divorce my husband right now. There was no way I could devote two hours to the gym every day. I realize that in HER world - FITNESS is the "thing" and I respect that - But honestly, I don't give a shit about your "thing". I just want to lose some weight, look better/feel better. Just because I joined a gym does not mean that I'm prepared to change every aspect of my life. I will not start filling my pantry with granola, rice cakes and low-cal cheese....that stuff just tastes bad.

Anyway, I'm typically the type of person that if I'm uncomfortable or anxious I'll make jokes. Which I did for the ENTIRE time I was with the reincarnated Ghangis Khan. And now a day later - I'm thinking she doesn't "get me". When she pulled the exercise ball out - I commented "Oh, I have one of those", she seemed happy about that until I explained to her that we use it to see how long you can sit on it without spilling your beer.

After all the sweating was done for the day I got the "talk". A good solid half hour where she lectures about what to eat and how to eat it. I nodded my head and agreed with everything she said - all the while knowing perfectly well that I was lying through my teeth and that she would have to pull the white bread out of my dead cold hand before I gave it up.

Oh - and did you know that breakfast is THE MOST IMPORTANT MEAL OF THE DAY. Yea, I didn't realize that either. Easy enough -McDonald's is right across the street from my office - I can just go through the drive through every morning.

And then her head blew up.

I've gone back and forth all week if I was going to share the following with anyone, however, I finally decided that if I threw it out there, maybe it would be a motivating factor to keep my ass in gear.

I had a moment. It wasn't exactly as though the heavens opened up and poured sunshine directly on me - or some out of body experience....Just more of a "ooohhh....alright, alright, ALRIGHT!" kind of moment.

I need to get in shape.

It's a mixture of many things really that has spurred this decision. A week long trip to the beach with two very thin sisters, pants that no longer fit, an addiction to The Biggest Loser tv show, and the fact that I've had to cover every mirror in my house with black plastic.

While I won't bore you with all the details of my 'gym shopping' and fretting over how much it costs...I'll just say that as of last Friday I became a member of a local gym. In addition, I've decided to pay a bit more money at the start up for the opportunity to gain the wisdom of a personal trainer for three whole sessions. A decision I'm certain I will come to regret.

After I signed the next year of my life away - I was led to a wall of what can only be described as mug shots of personal trainers. Maybe 20 to 30 to choose from. I'm supposed to pick the best trainer for me - simply by their pictures? Oddly, I found it easier than one would think. It was a pretty easy elimination process. I knew I didn't' want a man. 14 down. I knew I didn't anyone that looked like this.









Or This:










So, that was another 8 down.

There was really only two options left - and one of them looked as though I could sit on and beat if the situation ever arose.

Ding Ding - We Have a Winner

So, to get a jump start on things (our first official meeting is Tuesday) I decided to run over on Saturday morning and get some time in on a treadmill. Only to 'accidentally' run into my trainer and have an impromptu session.

Sunday morning, clearly I was sleep walking or in some drug induced haze, because I found myself driving BACK to the gym for a Spin Cycle of Death class. If that women said the word 'cadence' one more time I was going to shove my water bottle up her nose.

Now, I'm at work where my legs have fused into the plastic of this chair and the only two things on my body that are not screaming out "BITCH" are my ears and maybe the tops of my feet. I am also quite certain, although I have not investigated yet, that there is a bike seat shaped bruise on my ass.

I'm sure more humiliating stories will come of this - so if nothing else it's good blog material.

I've gotten some nice emails over the last week or so asking about the spawns recovery and how she was doing. It was rough going for a while, but we are back in school full time and about 95% back to normal. Thank you for the concern.

However, I truly don't feel as though I stressed strongly enough last week the extent of this child's breath. As was explained to me when leaving the hospital, I should expect her to have bad breath, and not to be concerned about it. It is even typed in her discharge papers "No Amount of Toothpaste or Mouthwash will help"....something about surgeries involving the throat/mouth and tissue and the healing process....However, I had a puffy faced, drugged up, crying child, so I wasn't really listening to anyone at that moment.

I do remember thinking though "How bad could it really be? She's 3 1/2 for cryin' out loud!"

Ho. ly. Crap.

She could kill someone with this breath. From 20 paces.

To make matters worse, take the bad breath and then throw "mommy, I'm siiiiiiick..... hold me" in the same pot ... That's a huge grease fire waiting to happen. All she wanted for DAYS was to be held and coddled, kissed and pet. Normally, my heart would melt in these situations - but given the circumstances - the only reaction it evoked was that my eyes wouldn't stop watering and I have a crick in my neck from constantly making sure it's not my arm pit that smells like a septic tank disaster.

Thursday night, two days after the surgery, she woke up middle of the night screaming for me. I ran in there, scooped her up and brought her in with me to catch a few more winks of sleep. Some time later I was roused out of my sleep by this interesting noxious odor. In my head, given that I'm half asleep and my eyes are shut, I could only assume that my husband was sleep farting directly in my face. I actually pictured in my head that the only way it could be THIS bad, was if he stood up in bed, squatted down and farted directly into my face.

At this point, I'm wondering if there is a sleep study that I could enroll him in. Honestly, this could be detrimental to our marriage. God Forbid he ever had to travel with a colleague and share a room?

However, as I'm sure you've guessed, I pop open one eye to see my sweet angel face child not but two inches from my nose....breathing on me.

This will now be known as "The Time Of the Ass Baby".

It may surprise most of you that I'm really not a confrontational person. I'll stand up for myself and my family if the situation arises, but more times than not I'll just walk away from a situation and then talk some smack later.

Such was not the case this morning.

About a week ago during my normal morning drop off at preschool, I noticed a red car in the parking lot that appeared to have a small child still in it. And no parent.

I'll let a lot of things slide, however this is not one of them. I do not live in some back road country town where everyone is friends and we drive our John Deere's to the bowing alley. I live in a suburb, yes, but a suburb outside of a city that's usually ranked in the most dangerous of cities. Leaving a child in a car - under any circumstance - is not acceptable. Ever.

However, don't judge lest you be judged - I decided to wait it out. I sat in my car to make sure this kid actually HAD a parent, somewhere. Eventually someone came out of my preschool and waltzed over to his car, got in and drove away.

Maybe it was a fluke, maybe he just lost a loved one and is overcome with grief, maybe his child really ISN'T a child, but a very very small adult.

Against my better judgment, I let it go and didn't say or do anything.

Until today.

Same car. Same child.

I waited again - but this time made really ugly looks at him and rolled my eyes. Dropped my kid off and went straight to the office where I then told on him.

They, like me, were upset. They thanked me for informing them and assured me that they would take care of it.

I'm not exactly sure what that means - could be a strongly worded letter or an ass kicking by the back dumpster. I'm fine with either way.

If by some chance YOU are the parent that left your child in the car and are reading this right now, I will apologize for ratting you out. However, unless you've been living under a rock for the last 20 years - we don't leave kids in cars anymore. In addition, I've now twice sat in that parking lot and babysat your kid while you were doing other things, thus making me late for work.

You owe me $50 bucks.