Wednesday, August 16, 2006


It's Wednesday, again. My son has blossomed before my very eyes. He is using the potty extensively, and enthusiasticly asking for my approval each time he does. Like an old man he sits on his potty, Madagascar underwear around his ankles, reading "Everybody Poops" out loud to me. "moooom. Elephant poops. da bird poops. Nemo poops." It's adorable.

I just now went home to straighten up my place during my lunch break, and again the "joint custody black cloud" started raining on me. I opened the door to my place and noticed the third tub of play-dough my son was franticly begging me to find before he left for school tucked next to the entertainment center. "Find it mommie! pwease!" I impatiently rushed him out the door and told him I would find it later. He cried for a minute about it and got over it. After noticing the play-dough my glanced over to my sofa, where a bundle of grapes sat on the cushion. Grapes just sitting on the couch, not in the fridge where I put them last. Apparently as I got dressed the little guy helped himself to some more grapes. By my foot lay a headless, plastic T-rex, and I quietly began to cry as I picked up the grapes. I could easily let the wave wash over me and have a complete sob fest - reeling in the pain of this weekly seperation. I sat on my sofa - paralized, daydreaming about kissing him good bye at school this morning. He turned to me in the classroom as I put his things in his cubby and said "Mommie? you come back?". "no, I will see you on Monday - today you get to see your daddy!" I said with a fake enthusiasm I am sure he can pick up on. He grabbed my hand and said "ok, I go bye bye". He clearly understands that he wont see me for some period of time now. I bear hugged him and told him I loved him and this time I got an "I love you too..." back.

I write about this cause I might die if I keep this all inside. I have friends who's 3 year old children cant comprehend the sentence "Mommie? you come back?" as they are NEVER apart from them.

oh the envy......


Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Europe - Rock the Night

I had to share the insanit with you all...enjoy this little trip back to 1989.

Monday, August 14, 2006

I just hit a new low....

I felt the need to confess the most heinous thing ever to the entire world, immediately, at this very moment - for fear of it taking over my life. I just downloaded Europe's "Rock the Night" and I fear I may go dig out the can of Aqua Net residing under my sink and well, ya know - do my hair. Oh I cant shake it either, I may just show up at work with black eyeliner melted onto my eyes and ...jesus! Must turn Europe off. right now.

I blame Gene Simmons and his new show on A&E for resurecting my hairband lust. It's fantastic! Rock god shows soft cuddly side and I cant get enough of Gene, the man I now call "papa demon". Not to mention the constant witty banter from his "midgets" (he calls his 6'7 kid a midget? brilliant) and lovely wife, who I secretly wish was my friend. She has my sense of humor and shit man, she was a mega playboy centerfold, she could have anyone. Just what I like in woman, relentless sense of humor and a nice rack. Ha ha.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Listen up northerners:

Here's a little message to my own kind: Lighten up!! I call into companies and interview them everyday, and I cringe when I see a 212 or 617 area code. What kind of crap is that? It's my favorite part of the country and my least favorite part to call?? Now is it so hard to just be polite and have manners? Up in the northeast everyone thinks you are trying to sell them a vacuum cleaner. I remember, I used to be that person. I still am that hard-edged person at times, but living in Atlanta for over 3 years (Woah....THREE years???) has helped me tone down the UNNECESSARY bad-assness. It's funny and somewhat backwards that I used to have my guard up walking around Boston which has 4 times less the average crime rate than Atlanta does. I have modified my lifestyle a bit - I simply don't walk anywhere at night in Atlanta, double lock my doors, don't leave my lap top in my car - just aint the smaht thing to do here.

Now, I will say that when some raggamuffin homeless person comes up to me while I am pumping gas and asks me for $5 bucks I snap back into that tough northeastern gal (see my post about moms being similar to grizzly bears). While my son waits in the car, I try to ignore them but then I turn and tell them to get the fuck away from me. And they do. They know I am not from here. Let me clarify that I do care about the homeless people and feel we are letting a slice of our population slip through the cracks while we eat out every night, sleep in air conditioned houses, etc. I just don't care for being harassed at the gas station with my child watching - so they can go get high.

Anyway, you northern-types (called yankees, which is an insult down here) should lose the razor sharp edge a bit, soften up; the world aint out to get ya, it's just full of idiots.

stay tuned for my next post on why southeners should toughen least to your face instead of behind your back and how to swear like a champ. It's fuckin' liberating, I tell ya guy!

Tuesday, August 08, 2006


Ever get that feeling....the one where you fill up your lungs, holding the air deep for a second? As you let it go you feel that very moment in life will be a memory you wont soon forget? This happens for me when I see my son after a few days and he says "mommie! I missed you - you came back!" There's no way to explain to him that I didnt want to leave him, and that I am haunted by him when he is not with me. "This is just how it is" seems horribly unfair. I wish I could find the words to capture the way it feels to leave my child every Wednesday morning, knowing I wont see him till Friday or even Monday. I go through the motions, unclipping his seat belt and gathering his bag - which is full of toys and things he wants to bring to his father's house. How does he feel as he waves goodbye to me from the windows of his school, in between shapes of flowers and bugs? My heart in my mouth, fighting tears I go through this weekly occurrence. It simply wont get better.

I have a man in my life who makes me want to have more children. Just typing that sentence reminds me of the misery I went through with my son's pregnancy - I simply cant believe I even feel this way. I knew my son was "sent forth from the others" to ensure that they would in fact be born. I am certain he was required to be so sweet, beautiful and full of life no matter what to trick me into forgetting how much pregnancy sucks! Regardless, I wonder what it is like to have a supporting, unselfish partner to go through those life-changing nine months with. Is it more relaxing? I imagine it to be peaceful with time to enjoy what's happening instead of worrying about paying the mortgage. What's it like to be excited about the new baby instead of afraid of all the changes it brings? I watch this man of mine kiss my child, play with him and care for him as though he were his own. It's not because he is trying to impress me either - and when he asks me "do you think the little guy loves me?" I melt.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

warm fuzzies

A member of crazyhipblogmammas sent out a cool request asking everyone to read other's blogs and post a nice "warm and fuzzy" on their blog. I love discovering new blogs, especially those who are or have been single moms at one point. This pajamamamma is raising three kids, two of which have down syndrome. Makes me feel like a schmuck for thinking my life is at times difficult - I am fine for the most part ( I can hear you chuckling out there!) and truly admire those who love so unselfishly. This world needs more people like her.

ok, so here are the instructions:

1. Leave me a warm fuzzy in my comments.
2. Post a similar entry (or copy and paste this one, giving credit) on your own blog.
3. Leave a warm fuzzy on every blog you visit today.
4. Sit back, read your own warm fuzzies and feel, well, warm and fuzzy!

Tuesday, August 01, 2006


Here is the exact text I wrote in an online request form:

"Looking for pricing on upholstry cleaning, my son threw up all over my sofa just after he scribbled on my love seat. Please help!thanks."

I am going to file this one under "joys of motherhood".