Tag Archives: family

Unexplained Mysteries of My Universe

15 May
  • The closer I get to menopause → the angrier I get → the more I pluck my eyebrows → the angrier I look → the angrier I feel → the more I pluck my eyebrows → the more I resemble Uncle Leo from Seinfeld.
Good god, these hot flashes are a bitch!

Good god, these hot flashes are a bitch!

  • The older I get → the more chin hairs I get → the worse my vision gets → the less chance I have of spotting stray chin hairs → the better chance I have at landing the coveted Bearded Lady position at the local circus → the circus never comes to my town.
  • The later I am for an appointment → the tinier the toy my daughter wants me to find → the bigger the pile of crap it’s buried in.

    But Mom! I need Polly's purple shoe right now or I'll JUST DIE! WAAAAHH!

    But Mom! I really REALLY need Polly’s purple shoe RIGHT NOW or I’ll JUST DIE! WAAAAHH!

  • My husband loses 20 pounds after going on a ‘diet’.
    Old breakfast : two donuts + two Yoo-hoos + a bagel with extra cream cheese
    New breakfast: two donuts + two Yoo-hoos + a bagel with a moderate amount of cream cheese
  • I inhale my kid’s chocolate glazed donut fumes too deeply = 20 pound gain.
    All of it in my ass.
    Never in my boobs.
  • Empty bathroom = infinity # of hours
    Empty bathroom + me = suddenly everyone has to go pee simultaneously
  • The older my son gets → the cooler he seems → the more I want to hang out with him → the less he wants to have anything to do with me.
  • The increase in the amount of my son’s armpit hair = the increase in his ability to roll his eyes at everything I say

    Right back 'atcha, kid.

    Right back ‘atcha, kid.

  • # of tasks I have to do in the shortest amount of time = # of  times my kids need me to get them something every 2 seconds.
  • The more I try to get my kid’s attention → the louder my voice gets > likelihood they’ll ever respond.
  • The more secret the conversation + the more you whisper + the more curse words you use → my kids’ hearing is suddenly better than a German Shepherd’s.
  • 10 minutes = average time it takes to have sex
    1.5 seconds =average time it takes for kids to realize you’re having sex and decide to start banging on your bedroom door.

Care to add any other mysteries of your universe?

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I’m So Glad You Read That Book, Mom

12 May

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It’s the weekend and I’m driving my  79-year-old mom around town on some errands.

Me: Ooh!  Gas prices seem to be going down!

Mom: Heh? Gas surprise and you wanna roll the window down? Well, be my guest.

Me: No, the gas PRICES are going DOWN.

Mom: Oh, don’t even get excited. In about 50 years, the world will end and let me tell you, the last thing you’ll be worried about are gas prices. First the earth will heat up so much, we’ll all have to live under domes. Trust me, you don’t want to be on the outside of the domes when that happens. Jeezum crow! You’d be toast!

Me: Domes?

Mom: Oh, yeah! But domes wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe they could keep a few people on the outside…y’know [makes quotation marks in the air with her fingers] accidentally… like criminals…[scowls] or Randy Travis and that god-awful, just terrible, awful woman, Rachel Ray.

Me: Rachel Ray? What in the hell has she done?

Mom: Oh, you don’t want me to go there.

Me: Oh, okay, I wo–

Mom: God, her voice!  It’s so deep! Like a man that smokes! And she’s always flapping her lips and running back and forth to the fridge. She thinks she knows everything about cooking. Well, here’s a tip, missy–put all the food you need on the damn frickin counter before you start babbling like an idiot and running around the kitchen like a chicken with its head cut off. There’s the first rule of cooking, Miss Rachel Ray. [speaks slowly, overemphasizing each word] Take. Out. The. Food.

Me: Okay. So–

Mom: And her chest is too small. [shakes head] Oh, no, no, no. Just too small for those revealing blouses she wears. Trust me, when we’re thinking about food, we certainly don’t need to see that.

Me: So what’s this dome book you’re reading called? [My mom always has a stack of New Age/Inspirational/Biblical books on her night stand] Is it The Apocalypse and You: A Practical Guide to the End Times?

Mom: It’s true, it’s gonna happen. Pollution will be so bad, we’ll have to live under domes just to breathe. But I’ll be long dead! [cackles smugly] But you, oh you’ll be dealing with it. And I say, good luck!

Me: Mom! That’s not very nice!

Mom: The Earth is going to end and we’ll have to go to other planets eventually. Uh-huh. But it won’t be all bad. We’ll have a new world filled with peace and love because we’ll all be on a new spiritual path. This is how it will be.

Me: Was this book written by Oprah?

Mom: Yep, this world is pumpin’ a handcart straight to hell. It’s too late to save it. Maybe if people would love and take care of one another more, we could survive as a human race. Ha! I ain’t bettin’ on it.

Me: Gayle! Oprah’s best friend! This book was written by her, wasn’t it?

Mom: We might be able to live on as a human race if we move to other planets. Sylvia Browne says there are already aliens living among us now. Maybe they can help us. Y’know… [leans in and raises her eyebrows] even someone like Oprah could be an alien!

Me: I could see that.

Mom: But anyway, I’ll be on the Other Side when it’s all over, living in my mansion up in the clouds, eating all the ice cream I want. But don’t worry, I’ll haunt you and try and help.

Me: That’s very reassuring, Mom. Thanks.

Mom: You’re welcome! [sighs softly like she's just discussed the weather] So…what’s for lunch?

I guess I could live with this.

Yeah, I guess I could live with this.

Any other people you think should be “accidentally” left outside the dome? Maybe my mom can have it arranged.

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Happy Mother's Day, Mom

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom

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Like this? Want more?

I’m So Glad We Went Out to Eat, Mom

I’m So Sorry I Missed Your Call, Mom

I’m So Glad We Had This Talk Again, Mom

I’m So Glad We Had This Talk, Mom

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This Mom’s Wish

9 May

Dear Kids,

This is all I want for Mother’s Day (and beyond):

  • That you realize half-eaten tuna sandwiches don’t belong in the far corner of your closet buried under three tons of toys.
  • You learn to fight less and love more.
  • Hands are not for hurting but for helping — also for helping Mom by picking up all your stuff off the floor. Here’s a tip: open your hand, pick something up, put it away.
  • R – E – S – P – E – C – T Find out what it means to me. And to anyone else you’ll meet for the rest of your life. I’ll give you a big hint: it’s probably the single most important thing, other than love, you can feel for another human being.  It will carry you throughout life and help you learn from others, shaping you into a positive force that can move mountains.  If you give it, others will return it to you.
  • Silence. Just ten minutes will do.
    OK, five is fine too.
    One minute?
  • A hug. A real one. Not the kind where you wiggle away in horror like I’m trying to pull the teeth out of your head.
  • That you help one another. Always.
  • If you ever see someone down, try to help them. If someone needs a hand, help them. If someone is struggling, help them.
  • Did I mention you should always help one another? Yeah, do that. Always.
  • That you realize what you put out there in the universe, positive or negative, will come back to you times ten. It’s the hardest lesson of all, but one worth remembering.
  • That you know love is all you need.
    And chocolate.
    I need some right now.
    Did you buy me any?

By the way, you both have already given me the above gifts.  All I ask is that you keep it up. I’m proud to be your mom.

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Happy Mother’s Day

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You Are Now Entering the No Filter Zone

10 Apr

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I grew up in a very loud house. My five brothers were wild and my mother had a voice that could cut through steel. My only tactic to get noticed was to stealthily drop verbal bombs here and there during dinner conversation. Things I thought, but probably shouldn’t have said out loud. Blurting was what I did best.  It got me some attention and a few laughs.

I called these little nuggets of blurtiness “Fork-Droppers” because my mom would always respond by clanging her fork to her plate and giving me The Look (while silently laughing). “Darla! Jeezum crow!” she’d snort while covering her eyes. But I couldn’t help myself.

Holidays seem to bring out my Fork-Droppers in full force.  Take Easter dinner the other day with my family:

“Y’know, come to think of it, your older brother did have lots of girlfriends back in high school,” my mom said, folding her napkin in her lap. “Pass the peas, please, Darla.”

“God, yeah!” I yelled, my mouth stuffed full of ham, bits of gristle spraying everywhere. “He had girls up the wazoo!”

I handed my mom the peas, she glared at me over her eyeglasses.

“Uh…I meant that…figuratively?” I mumbled, my eyes darting around the table. We ate in a few moments of heavy silence.

“And, of course,” I added, tilting my head, “literally. I mean, let’s be real here! Am I right? Huh? Am I right?” My words sliced through the air like a knife cutting through a putrid hard-boiled egg. I snorted and slipped into a fit of frenzied guffawing, mashed potatoes flying as I tried in vain to stifle my laughter with a napkin.

My mom’s fork dropped.

“Darla!” she yelled.

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Aside from the glaring fact I should try closing my mouth when I chew, why on earth do I say these things? Is it because I’ve completely lost my social filter of what’s appropriate? Am I still yearning for attention? Do I just want a cheap laugh? Should I have passed on that third glass of wine?

Or have I finally turned into my idol, Sophia of the Golden Girls?

And another one just because it’s funny as hell:

Have you or one of your relatives ever said anything stupid or inappropriate at a holiday dinner or get-together? Tell me so I can use it in the future.

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Words of Wisdom from the Wee Ones

22 Mar

While grocery shopping with my six-year-old daughter, little Miss J:

Miss J: Mommy, y’know what?198481_10150183247247873_525857_n

Me: What?

J (yelling): When you drink milk, it makes your boobs big!

Me: Excuse me?

J: The more milk you drink, the bigger your boobs!

Me: What?!

J: It’s true. Gabriel told me. (Gabriel is a five year old boy in her class)

Me: Um….no. Just no.

J: Can I have some milk?

Me: No.

J: (tries to lift my shirt)

Me: What are you doing?

J: C’mon! Lemme see yours!

Me: No, stop that! (she tries to stick her head underneath my shirt, old lady buying produce glares at me)

J: Hmm…

Me: Get outta there!

J: (walks slowly away, tapping her finger to her lips) Hmm…
How much milk do you drink, Mommy?

Me: What? Why?

J: Nothing.

Me: What are you trying to say?

J: It’s just that…well…I’ve seen worse.

(still not sure if I should take that as a compliment)______________________________________

Miss J wanders into the kitchen, tears streaming down her face.

Me: What’s wrong, sweetie?483644_10151380954547873_1466432138_n

Miss J: I want a baby sister.

Me: Oh ha ha! Well, now! No…sorry, you can’t have one.

Miss J: Why? I want one!

Me: I’m afraid that’s impossible, mommy can’t have more babies.

Miss J: (looking horrified) You mean, I can only have the ONE BROTHER?

Me: Yup. Just the one brother.

Miss J: You mean to tell me….that I (pointing finger in the air with each word) am STUCK…with THIS KID…
in THIS HOUSE….for the REST OF MY LIFE?

Me: Yup. Well, until you move out, go to college or get married one day, so it won’t be for the rest of your life–

Miss J: I’m marrying Daddy.
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My husband and I had a rare day off together and my daughter asked us what we were planning to do all day. We informed her we would be spending it having some “alone time”, like grown-ups sometimes like to do. So we dropped the kids off at school in the morning. As she was walking away into a huge crowd of kids, parents and teachers she stopped, turned around and yelled, “Have fun kissing and getting married today, guys!”

From my ten-year-old son:

CJ: I really, really, really want to go to the chorus concert tonight at school!IMG_2331

Me: You don’t sing.

CJ: So?

Me: You’re not in chorus.

CJ: I just wanna go.

Me: You hate music.

CJ: I just really wanna go, that’s all.

Me: Who is she?

CJ: Huh?

Me: What’s the girl’s name?

CJ: I don’t know.

Me: Is it Jessica?

CJ: Whatever.

Me: Matilda?

CJ: It’s Courtney! Not Matilda!

Me: Ohhhhhh. So your girlfriend’s name is Courtney!

(His sister starts dancing around him while singing, “He loves Courtney! He wants to kiss her!”)

CJ: She is NOT my girlfriend. Just a friend. But she is girl.
(pause) That’s a friend. And stop singing that mom, it’s not funny.

Me: What do you think having a girlfriend means?

CJ: Well, first you ask her to date you. Then you date for like…three weeks. But only after three weeks, can you kiss her. Then, if she doesn’t dump you, you keep dating and kissing until you’re, like, in college. Then you get your degree in engineering, buy her a house so you can give her a ring and ask her to marry you.

Me: Yup. That’s pretty much it.

CJ: So Courtney is NOT my girlfriend. I don’t want a girlfriend, like ever. Never ever.

Me: My work here is done.

What enlightening or embarrassing things have your kids said to you lately? Please, tell me, I need to feel I’m not alone.

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I’m So Glad We Went Out to Eat, Mom

15 Mar

“Hey, Ma? Wanna go out to eat tonight?” I ask my 79 year old mother.

“What?”

“Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?”

“What??”

“Do YOU…” I yell, pausing as my mom leans in closer.

“WANT TO…” She begins to nod her head slowly with each word I say.

“GO OUT…” I gesture to the door. She raises one eyebrow at me.

“TO DINNER….” I continue. She smirks.

“TONIGHT?”

“Do I…want to…go out…” she repeats mockingly.  I nod emphatically. She blinks. “With Yul Brynner? God no! He’s dead! Why would I want to go and do a thing like that? The man was bald! Like a cue ball! Bald as the day is long. And his days aren’t long anymore cuz the poor man is deader than a doornail! So sad, really.”

“I said DIN-NER,” I motion my hands to my mouth like I’m eating.

“Oh. Well, I’m hungry so why the hell not? I’d never go eat dinner with Yul Brynner though, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I wasn’t ask–look, just forget it. Hey, what does that mean, anyway?” I wonder aloud. ”Dead as a doornail? I mean, what the hell is a doornail? And why is it dead?”

“Darned if I know,” my mom shuffles over to get her coat. She stops and glares at me. ”Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go before I’m deader than a doornail!”

[Later on, my mother and I are seated at a local Italian restaurant, looking at our menus]

“Can I start you off with some beverages?” a young waitress smiles as she sets down two glasses of ice water.

“Well, you just gave us water so what else ya got?” my mom asks. “Or does this cost us money? Is this water free?” she scowls and peers suspiciously over her eyeglasses at the waitress.

“It’s free, Mom,” I sigh.

She looks down at her glass. “Is this tap water?”

“Mom….”

“Would you like me to bring you something else?” asks the waitress.

“Well, yes,” my mom glares.

Several seconds pass. My mom cringes as she looks around the room. “God! I can’t hear myself think in here. The music is too damned loud!”

Several more seconds pass.

“Uh…ma’am? Do you want some coffee, tea, soda?” the patient waitress asks.

“Heh? Oh! Sanka, please!” my mom yells and puts her napkin in her lap.

The waitress glances at me, then back to my mom. ”Excuse me, ma’am?”

“Sanka. I want Sanka.”

“Sanka?” the waitress appears confused.

“Sanka. Sanka! SAN-KA. CAN YOU HEAR ME?” My mom dismisses the waitress with a wave of her hand, then leans toward me and yells, “Jeezum crow! I don’t think the poor girl can hear me!  The music is too dang loud in this place!”

“Mom, I don’t think she knows what Sanka is. I don’t think you know what it is. It’s decaf coffee. You don’t drink decaf coffee, Mom.”

“What?”

“She’ll have black coffee, not decaf,” I say to the waitress. “Or Sanka,” I add a sheepish smile.

“You want me to thank her! Thank her!” my mom sits straight up. “I will. Just as soon as she brings me my damned coffee!”

I'll thank her when I get my Sanka!

I’ll thank her when I get my Sanka!

Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion when my mom yells, “Well, I ain’t eatin THAT!” then insists a salad should not have lettuce because lettuce is a waste of perfectly good food.

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Like this post? Here, have some more!

I’m So Sorry I Missed Your Call, Mom

I’m So Glad We Had This Talk Again, Mom

I’m So Glad We Had This Talk, Mom

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The Curse of Being a Mom

22 Feb

My sweet and loving ten year old son has made me many cute little drawings over the years.

But lately, I’ve noticed a very disturbing trend.

Age 5:

Kudos to him for getting my teeth and eyes just right...

(Kudos to him for getting my teeth and eyes just right…)

Age 7:

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Age 10.5 (today): This is what he left taped to his bedroom door:

zip

I get this feeling he’s trying to tell me something….

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Beautiful Child

26 Jan 385673-bigthumbnail

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Gasping your first breath on a cold fall day,
your hazel eyes greeted my blue.
A strand of my hair locked tight in your grasp,
I let my heart bleed into yours.

We ran together through the scarlet leaves,
our dance tinged with memories of gold.

You showed me the starry night,
the seashell warmed by the sun,
the bumpy edge of a lizard’s back.

I showed you the edge of time.

Still we giggled and breathed in the wide open sky,
as it dripped into our lungs
we drowned,
wrapped in sparkling silver threads,
laden with love’s pure promise.

I dream to be rescued
but only as a brown speck
floating in the soft moss-green of your eyes,
so I may see what I’ve always known to be,
I am you and you are me.

A beautiful child.

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I’m So Sorry I Missed Your Call, Mom

6 Jan answeringMachine

answeringMachine

My answering machine messages from my 79-year-old mother while I was gone for a few hours last weekend:

picviewbig

[answering machine beep]
Darla? Darla? Darla? Darla?
(click)

[beep]
Darla! Darla! Darla! Darla!
(click)

[beep]
Gah! Are you there? DARLA! I know you’re there! Oh! God! There it is! Do you hear it? That beeping? It’s the freakin smoke alarm! I think it’s the one downstairs. Or it’s the one upstairs. I can’t tell. But it’s driving me out of my freakin mind. Oh! There it goes again! Good god almighty–
(click)

[beep]
Can you hear me? CAN YOU HEAR ME! DARLA! God! Are you exercising again? You can’t hear me? Helllooooo? HELLO? Why are you always exercising?
[mutters under breath]
…it’s like she’s obsessed with exercise…always when I call…every single day…always with the exercise and the working out…it’s like an obsession, she just never stops. God!
(click)

[beep]
Darla! I know you’re not there but when you come home I need you!  Did you hear me? I NEED YOU! Darla! The smoke alarm is going off again! It might be the batteries! But I think it’s your father! He’s giving me a sign!
(my father passed away 20 years ago) Oh, I just know it’s him!

[smoke alarm chirps once in the distance]

Gah! Do you hear that? He’s driving me crazy!

[puts hand over phone and yells]
I get it, Ralph! I know it’s you! You can stop with the smoke alarm now!

[normal voice] Wait a minute, maybe it’s my rice cakes… Oh jeezum crow! I put them in the toaster because I was gonna make a hamburger… you know I can’t have bread… you really should try it, Darla, it’s– OH GOOD LORD!

[silence]

Nope, not my rice cakes. Wouldn’t you know it, I never even put them in the damn toaster.

[smoke alarm beeps]
AHHH! The beeping! Again with the beeping! Ralph! Is that you, Ralph? I hear you! I know you’re here!
[covers phone and yells]
Quit bugging me!

[silence]

[smoke alarm beeps]

That is IT! I have had enough!

[phone slams onto table]

[chair drags across floor]

[loud grunts and groans]

[WHACK!]

[crunching noise as plastic hits floor]

[gasps]
God! Oof! Oh! Finally! Jeezum crow!

[picks up phone] Darla? Darla, are you listening?! Can you pick me up a new smoke alarm? And some batteries? Or just take me to the pharmacy? I’ve got a headache now and I’m outta aspirin. Oh and also the bank and Food City cuz I need some more rice cakes. When I was smashing the smoke alarm they burnt to a crisp in the toaster.
(click)

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Like this post? Want another healthy dose of dear ol’ Ma? You may also enjoy:
I’m So Glad We Had This Talk, Mom
I’m So Glad We Had This Talk Again, Mom

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Things My Daughter Taught Me During School Vacation

1 Jan 483644_10151380954547873_1466432138_n

Ruminations on life, uncut and unfiltered, straight from the mind of my six year old daughter.IMG_2024

“Uh, mom? Your butt is big.”

(pause)

“Oh, I mean lovely. Yeah! Your butt is lovely!”

(pause)

“Also big.”

(scratches head)

“Actually…very big.”

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483644_10151380954547873_1466432138_n

“Well, I think peeing is dumb.

It’s just dumb and stupid and I don’t like it!

Why do we always have to stop playing to go pee all the time?

I won’t do it anymore. I won’t!”

____________________________________________________________

“Watcha doin’ Mom and Dad? Getting all snuggly?

You guys gettin’ all snuggly-wuggly and cuddly? All kissy? Kissy-poo?73150_10150090052562873_3801046_n

Well, that’s just SO GROSS!  I don’t wanna see that!EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!”

______________________________________________________

“I have a new boyfriend now,  Mommy.

His name is Gabriel and he sits next to me at the triangle table.

He’s nice but he breaks all the crayons so from now on I’m going to have to call him Gary.”

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198481_10150183247247873_525857_n“I am so excited to go back to school tomorrow, because I have P.E. class!

Yeah! And I LOOOOOOOVE P.E.!

Well, actually, I hate it….we run, we jump, we do stuff. I do get SO tired.

(sighs and looks wearily off into the distance)

But I really, REALLY love the part when we get to drink water from the fountain!”

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(Over the past two weeks of vacation, I also learned Little Miss J’s new favorite catchphrase.
This is her response to almost everything I do or say:)

284689_10151222955417873_2133117492_n“Seriously? Be serious!

Are you serious?

Because…

seriously?

SERIOUSLY!
______________________________________________________

And so kids, tomorrow? It’s back to school! Seriously!

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