Theme Thursday: Kids (Mine, Yours, Theirs…)

Theme Thursday

Theme Thursday is a weekly happening where bloggers come together and link up their takes on a theme chosen by Jenn at Something Clever 2.0.  This week’s theme is Other People’s Kids. 

I readily admit that I had a lot of trouble doing this week’s theme post.  It wasn’t necessarily the topic.  After all, I work with kids.  I went to school to work with kids.  I like kids a lot!  After playing around with a lot of different things, I finally just started writing what came out of my head easiest.  I don’t think this post is really about other people’s kids anymore.  Oh well, I’m ADD, remember?  And my throat is really sore.  And my own kid won’t poop.  I’m a little distracted.

Sometimes I can’t help but shake my head at some of the stuff I’ve seen.  Don’t worry, my kids are the cause of some of the head shaking.

This one has raised an eyebrow or two.

This one has raised an eyebrow or two.

My kids certainly aren’t perfect.  I’m sure that people that don’t know me have passed judgement on my kids and/or me on a number of occasions.  I feel like I’m not qualified to judge on other kids and how that kid is acting at that particular time.  I don’t know what their situation is, or if their children have special needs, or if maybe the kid just needs a nap really badly.

I never miss an opportunity to use this picture!!!!

I never miss an opportunity to use this picture!!!!

I’m sure that people wonder what the hell is going on when my kids are throwing a tantrum in Target.  The truth is I probably told them no and they aren’t getting their way.  Imagine that!  Sometimes though, there is stuff I see that just screams to be made fun of.  Like this:

The sad thing is that I've seen this in real life.  More than once.

The sad thing is that I’ve seen this in real life. More than once.

After all, we do live in an era where shows like “Toddlers and Tiaras” has viewership.  All I can think when I see references to it is “What are you people smoking???” Never seen the show, never will.  My daughter is referred to in this blog as Princess Whatever-We-Are Calling-Her-That-Day.  We strive to make sure she believes that she is NOT a princess.

There is no royalty in our house, though she thinks she is the queen.

There is no royalty in our house, though she thinks she is the queen.

Today Princess It’s-All-About-Me announced to me that she no longer likes princesses.  She likes kitties.  That is fine with me, other than the fact that I have now had to sit through Aristocats four times in the last month.

My daughter.  She thinks she is all that...

My daughter. She thinks she is all that… I may call her Princess here, but we don’t let her think she’s one!

We really try to make our kids NOT be spoiled brats.  Sometimes they can be very trying.  We have to have a sense of humor about this stuff.

I can't imagine where they get it from...

I can’t imagine where they get it from… Evil Genius in the fort he made.

But really, when you think about it, there are some pretty historically bad parents.  These parents make some of today’s parents pale in comparison.  Like Joan Crawford.  Or Darth Vader…  Think about how their kids turned out.

parent darth

The truth is, no matter how good of a parent you are, no matter what you are doing, there is going to be someone who is going to disagree and tell you that your are totally raising your kids wrong.  I was born in the seventies.  We grew knowing the Bill Cosby style of parenting.  Now that’s probably considered wrong!  You can’t yell “Let the beatings commence!” or say “Let me describe the brain damage.”anymore without getting some seriously judgemental looks.

I'm not judging.

I’m not judging.

So in summary… unless it’s something totally, utterly wrong, I’m not going to be openly judging you, or your kids.  I’m nice like that.

Be sure to check out all of the posts at the Theme Thursday link up.

Dude, Where’s My Love? Oh THERE It Is…

Words to live by.

Words to live by.

I’ve shared several times that I’m the person that, well, never quite fits in.  Never have.  I’ve always been a bit odd.  I wish I could say that it doesn’t bother me because I’m older and wiser now and blah blah blah.  But more often than not it does bother me.  Which is too bad, because if I’m still having teenage angst at 38, that doesn’t bode well for my middle aged years.  What age is considered middle age these days, anyway?  I just read an article about Brad Pitt and how introspective he’s been as he approaches 50.  So maybe it’s 50?  I didn’t have the attention span to finish the whole article anyway…

I’ve tried to fit in, and it just never quite works out the way I’d like it to.  I tend to stick out like a sore thumb, which is interesting because that sure doesn’t stop people when I’m in groups of parents from pretending I’m totally not there.  Sometimes I want to turn to them and say, “You know, I may not be 100 pounds and have my hair perfectly styled and wearing the skinny jeans and the too tight sweater, but I’m a perfectly nice person.  You act like I’m going to wipe a booger on you.”  I really wouldn’t do that, but I certainly wouldn’t put it past my son.  I think I may have referred to good old Winona playing Lydia Dietz on Beetlejuice, which is still one of my favorite movies.  She comments:  “I too am strange and unusual.”  That’s for sure, I could probably win some prizes for strange and unusual!  I’ll take cash, please.

My whole life is a darkroom. One big dark room.

My whole life is a darkroom. One big dark room.

Being part of the whole blogging world has been pretty darn good for me.  Yesterday was EPIC!  I exceeded the number of people that are my “Fans” on Facebook.  I won’t tell you how many of them that are actually my family and friends, but I will say I about bet they are really getting tired of all the crap I have been posting.  I also managed to get the most page hits ever (AGAIN) on here.  This was due to two factors.  1)  I kept relentlessly peddling my story about peeing my pants at Wal-Mart.  I think people finally started reading it so maybe they wouldn’t have to see it, but then realized that it was actually pretty funny.  2)  I am technologically impaired, and spent two hours fighting with WordPress about images.  I almost burned my I ♥ WordPress shirt over the whole deal.  No I DON’T want to put all of my image at the top of my blog post.  Why?  Because I think it looks stupid.  The result was that I totally put everything on my blog post wrong.  Each picture got an individual hit when viewed that counted toward my total visits for the day.  Ooops.  I may accidentally make that mistake again…

I’ve been going through this whole glorious depression thing which in itself is not very interesting or much of a tale to tell.  Unless you like stories about people who cry at the organic grocery store.   But that’s not why I’m writing this.  This is my public service announcement to the world about just giving people a little bit of understanding.

Not that kind of pubic service announcement, but do you remember these guys?  "We're not candy!  Even though we may look fine and dandy..."

Not that kind of pubic service announcement, but do you remember these guys? “We’re not candy! Even though we may look fine and dandy…”

I’m still new to the blogging world because, well, I just am.  I read a lot of different blogs.  One humor blog that I have recently started reading was having a hard time.  Bad decisions, bad luck.  She obviously needed someone to listen.  I commented and left her some real words of encouragement, and that I understood all too well how it feels when life sucks.  I didn’t offer advice, I just wanted to let her know that we are all human.  Every stinkin one of us, and that we are not perfect.  She was really touched.  I’m not writing to tell you all that I am a fabulous person that changed somebody’s life, because I didn’t, I just know how it feels to be there and no one seems to care. You just want some understanding.

I’ve been there, many times in my life, and I have felt very alone many of those times.  One great thing about this online world is that you aren’t ever really alone.  I haven’t exactly had a lot of support for this blog from the homefront.  It’s not that he doesn’t care.  He’s busy, the last thing he really wants to hear is that somebody commented on this or I have this many followers or whatever.  My daughter would rather I throw my computer out the window so I can spend more time doing nothing but cuddling with her.  Luckily I have had a lot of support from the others who do the same thing I do, and that has been wonderful.  I’ve had people help me fix up my blog, tell me where I need to go to get more exposure, and just let me know that they genuinely like how I write and are loyal followers.  Aw heck, this week I have even agreed to do some guest posts on some great blogs!  You have no idea how much that means to me.  The feeling that I am successful at doing something is huge.  Now if I can only get those people who do the “Freshly Pressed” page here at WordPress to get that (hint, hint folks, show me some loooooooove.)

This is to all of the people who've been so awesome to me in this here blogging world.

This is to all of the people who’ve been so awesome to me in this here blogging world.

One thing I’ve struggled with the last couple of years is exercising, and with the being an unemployed bum AND not being able to get out and move around I have really sunk into the depths of bummerdom.  I already don’t feel wonderful about other things, so the extra smooshiness around my middle (not a muffin top, more of a coffee cake) is certainly taking some of its toll on my self esteem.  One fabulous blogging friend reached out to me and let me know that she too has been there, and has been very supportive of me throughout the flab and the anxiety.  It made all the difference.  I’m not going to name her, but she knows who she is!  😉

It’s getting better.  I’m feeling a lot better the last few days.  I’ve gotten out, I’ve moved around, I’ve done some stuff.  Now I’m still unemployed and feel like a big losery loser, but I’ve got a lot more hope than I’ve had.  The candle is still flickering in there!

I’m thinking back to when I was employed, however, and working around toxic people all of the time, and thinking that in a way maybe I am better off NOT working.  One woman in particular had the nerve to tell all of my coworkers during an organization wide meeting in the room that I was weird.  ALOUD.  Right in front of me.  It had to be the most backhanded compliment I had ever had in my life.  If I wasn’t so nice, I would have thrown my pizza at her.  But I sat and took it.  People like that, well, I hope they get what they deserve.  Thhhhhhpt!

Are you wondering if I forgot what my point was?  No, I’m still doing my little public service announcement.  If you see someone who is usually pretty funny have a heartfelt blog post, and you can relate, just take a moment and share that with them.  It’s so good to know that you’re not alone.  Or maybe there’s a mom who is a little different and doesn’t seem too comfortable around other parents.  Take a moment and say hi, you may be glad you did.  People like to be approved!

We constantly quote this, I didn't even know what it was called until I accidentally found it.

We constantly quote this, I didn’t even know what it was called until I accidentally found it.  I was APPROVED!!!!

The Approval Center (Click to view)

So hey, it’s the holidays.  Share the love.  Come on people now, smile on your brother (or sister).  Just because I’m feeling pretty good about this, I’m going to share this classic commercial, because I can.  And because I REALLY want a Coke.  Peace man.

Coca-Cola Hilltop Commercial.

Again, my apologies for no image to go with this.  I only had the above images because I had this post almost done before they did whatever that they did that I am too ADD to figure out.  Anyhooooo….  Last minute additions have no visuals!

I Peed My Pants At Wal-Mart and Other Tales of Mommy Incontinence

HA HA HA. Not.

We’re avoiding Target as much as possible these days because it’s just too darn fun.  Target just goes from 0 to $100 in no time flat.  It’s those dang end aisles, the clearance, and stuff that is just really cool!  Any list you bring in there somehow disintegrates or gets extra items added to it.  Therefore we’re forced to go to my least my favorite place in the world, Wal-Mart.  On the list today is the biggest bag of dog food for the smallest price and pasta that helps us poop. Sounds like a fun trip, doesn’t it?

Upon inspection of the dog food prices, it looked like the 50 pound bag of Ol’Roy was going to be the best deal.  Less than $20 for 50 pounds of dog food?  That’s, um, less than 50 cents a pound (don’t ask me to break it down more than that).  We’re used to buying the 17 pound bags of Puppy Chow with a coupon.  But this is MUCH cheaper.  I don’t know why we even bother, the dog would rather eat trash or steal our food than actually eat dog food.  I sat and watched him eat a stick today.  Really?

Of course now that I have made the decision that yes indeedy this is what we are going to buy, I realize that it may be difficult to get it into the cart.  How do other people buy that stuff anyway?  Do you go find someone and ask for them to haul it up front?  Oh wait, that’s Target.  Repeat after me, Target is BAD.  It has the hypnotic eye.

I study the bag carefully.  It’s only 50 pounds.  I’m not a professional weightlifter, I just say it like that because I have kids that weigh not much less than that who still insist on being carried.  But this bag is just so, BIG.  I figure I can probably slide it onto the bottom part of the cart.  I pulled on the bag, it slid towards me pretty easily.  I grabbed hold of it with all of my might and pulled it off the top of the pile.

And as the bag came off and into my waiting arms, I peed my pants.  That’s right, I dribbled right into my own undies.  I was now at Wal-Mart with a wet crotch, staggering around with a bag of dog food that weighed more than my seven year old son.  I really hope the “People of Wal-Mart” cam didn’t happen to be following me right at that moment.  If so, I can assure you that I am wearing adequate clothing and no children were buried under things in my cart.

I admit it, I’ve dribbled in more places than a leaky garden hose.  Thanks kids.

Ah the joys of motherhood.  It’s amazing how a body that can hold another human being inside of it can’t contain it’s own pee.  It’s not a new problem for me, I’ve had it since I gave birth to my son.  It’s not like I just pee my pants randomly though, there’s always some sort of force involved.

Have you ever walked down a hallway, stopped and crossed your legs because you knew a sneeze was coming?  I call it the “Antipee Maneuver”, because when you have those issues you have to make some adjustments to anything that involves moving around and muscle contractions.  Take the gym.  I used to go to exercise classes religiously at 5:30 in the morning two or three days a week (yeah I don’t know how I ever did that either).  It was ok except for anything that involved jumping.  I am unable to do jumping jacks without wetting myself.  So I do a sort of half  jack where I don’t actually spread my legs.  It’s more like just jumping while I wave my hands in the air. I also can’t jump rope.  When we would do jump roping, I would have to do it one leg at a time.  Fortunately no one else caught on that I was struggling.

It doesn’t stop there.  My husband knows darn well that he can make me pee my pants.  He knows because he’s seen me do it.  He’s been known to pick me up and shake me, tickle me, or sneak up and scare me, all with the same result-a little bit of tinkle in the nether regions.  This evening he thought it would be EXTREMELY funny to sit on me and tickle me.  I warned him about the consequences of said tickling-in other words I shrieked, “I HAVE ALREADY PEED MY PANTS ONCE TODAY, DON’T MAKE ME DO IT AGAIN!!!!”  He quit, but more because I wasn’t being any fun than it was from my threatening voice.

At thirty eight years old, I know by now that it pays to be prepared for most situations.  But since I am ADD, I tend to NOT be prepared unless it’s that time of the month.  I just forget until it’s too late.  I’ve been known to have to buy new underwear when out and about for the day.  I’ve also been known to go home and change my pants and come back.  You’d think I’d learn to have either pantiliners or emergency underwear handy, much like I have extra underwear for my kids just in case.  Nope.

Hey I bet you’re wondering what happened to the bag of dog food.  Oh I got in on the cart.  I had to pretty much lay on the floor of the aisle and shove the bag on to the little part underneath the cart.  I also managed to somehow get it out of the cart and into my trunk.  It’s still in my trunk.  My husband can bring it in, because I bet he won’t pee his pants doing it.  Guys have it so easy.

It’s really hard to find images for this post. Just sayin.

The ADD Mom goes out…ALONE

Yesterday a historic event occurred in our household.  I got out alone.  For more than 10 minutes.  I even took my car.  I overcame Mommy guilt and left the house and went to town.  It looked kind of like this picture:

I’m FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

When I mean going to town let me clarify-we live in the Midwest.  We don’t live in the middle of nowhere, but the nearest decent sized town is about 15 minutes away, 20 if you actually want to go anywhere there besides Wal-Mart.

We had gone to the fair the day before, so of course noone else was even interested in leaving the house.  As a matter of fact, I’m not sure that anyone even noticed that I left the house.  I decided to go walk around the lake in our nearby big town.  I wanted to take a loooooong walk, and I had enough time I could explore some of those trails I keep seeing and find out where they go.  I put on my running shoes, grabbed my purse and water bottle, IPOD, phone, and left.

First I stopped and got the mail.  I don’t get out much, and they don’t deliver mail to peons like us.  And now that we have the dog, I rarely get out without him.  So our mail piles up for about a week before I make it over there.  Last week when I finally made it there I had the big yellow note in there:  “Your mail is too large to fit in your box”.  And there wasn’t even a package in there.  Not like I could retrieve my mail, though.  Our post office is open for approximately ten minutes a day if you’re lucky.  Unfortunately for me, I had already passed that small window of time.  So I had to go back to the post office the next day, which is a HUGE thing to do two days in a row.

Next I stopped and got a water and the Sunday paper.  Since I have become an unemployed bum, I had to forgo certain luxuries like a daily newspaper and getting something from the gas station.  Except on Sunday.  That newspaper is like gold to me. I read it cover to cover, er, front to back.  And I needed the water because it was hot and I had forgotten to fill my water bottle.

funny-newspaper-headline-9

I stop and get the Sunday paper every week just so I can read articles like this one…

As I drove out of town I drove and searched through my purse at the same time for the Crystal Light stuff I put in my water.  I can’t drink just plain water unless I am parched, and my body would probably go into shock if I did.  Now I know I grabbed the little packet, but now I can’t find it.  And I have now emptied the entire contents of my purse onto the passenger side seat while driving.  It’s not there.  Drat.  And I’m thirsty.

I reformulate my plan.  Surely I can’t walk without lemon flavored water.  Splenda sweetened water.  My sensitive system can’t handle regular Crystal Light-I get heartburn so bad it’s like having a heart attack.  And of course only one place sells that Splenda Crystal Light stuff.  Yup, Target.

And I need labels.  Not just any labels.  CLEAR labels.  Because they look nice.  And the white ones leave crappy residue when you peel them off.  And I change my mind a lot, so I peel them off a lot.  So where can you buy clear labels?  Staples.  And Staples is right down the street from Target.  So I’ll take the long way around and get the labels.  Then I’ll go to Target and get my lemonade stuff.  And maybe some pop, because Target also is the only place that carries my lemon flavored Diet Sunkist.  Lemon again.

So I go to Staples, which is clear on the other side of town from the lake.  I love Staples.  I could spend hours in there looking for stuff.  But the Mommy alone time has a time limit because my family may need to eat, so I just need to go in and get out.  Staples clear labels are very expensive, and I need two sizes.  Hey wait a minute, don’t they sell clear labels at Target too?  I wander around for a few minutes, then select the size of labels I know I haven’t seen sold anywhere else, and fork over the money for them.

I have never bought staples or a stapler at Staples...

I have never bought staples or a stapler at Staples…

Next I go to Target.  I whizz in, grab the lemon Crystal Light stuff, grab the pop, and then go up to the checkouts.  It’s a college town and the day before classes start, so everyone and their roommate is there getting supplies.  I am ecstatic that I get right up to a register with no waiting!  Wait… I forgot the labels.  Back to the office supplies.  They don’t have them.

Where the heck did I see those clear labels?  Must have been Wal-Mart.  Back to the checkouts, buy stuff.  Out to the car and drive across the way to Wal-Mart, which is even busier than Target.  I find the labels.  And guess what, they have the other ones I paid way more for at Staples.  No.  NO.  Just get the ones you don’t have and go.  But the lady who cuts my hair remarked I needed a detangler comb.  Mine is missing.  Probably in my daughter’s room somewhere.  They sell those at Wal-Mart!  I run over to the hair section and grab TWO-one for me and one for my daughter.  Hers is pink. That way she won’t steal mine.

I walk out of Wal-Mart having now taken an extra hour to do all of this stuff.  By the time I get to the lake, I will have less than an hour to do my walk, because people have to eat, and my husband won’t think to start supper.  I have to wait for a train.  Then by the time I get there I have to pee.  It’s a good thing there is a bathroom right there.  Then I do my walk.  I settle for the shortened version, since I had less than an hour.  No exploring trails for me.  I do it and head home, very satisfied with having gotten some exercise.

I get home a whole 20 minutes late.  And guess what? He was starting supper.

You can read about the next adventure in The ADD Mom Goes Out… With Children