Such a Hypocrite!

OK...when preparing for our Halloween party, I may have gone just a bit overboard. I shopped all the good party sites online, caroused Target multiple times, got a few 10lb bags of candy from Sam's Club and considered myself good to go.

I must have gotten a little too excited when purchasing from one online site, for when I opened the box, there were not 24 pumpkin bouncy balls, but 240. Oops. I immediately got flashbacks from my mother's online grocery fiasco back in 2005 when we ended up with a bushel of apples.

So when I only needed 10 pumpkin bouncy balls, and I am too lazy to return them (be realistic, they only cost $2.40...TOTAL) I decided to hand them out as Halloween "treats."

Sure you can pull that off when the 2 and 3 year olds come to your door. But I am now realizing that I am setting myself up to get egged by the ungrateful 12 and 13 year olds!

What really is making them angry is me licking the chocolate off my fingers from the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups as I open the door.

I'd egg me too.

Something's Wrong Here

So this morning I went to a reunion of sorts with the women I went to grad school with. For those of you who don't know, I am one of the 60% of women who do not use their master's degree. It is a horrifying statistic, I know, and I'll tell you why...

As I am waiting all alone at a table for eight for my girlfriends to show up, I found myself gazing outside watching all the beautifully dresses coeds and parents walk by on the street (it is parent's weekend here in college land). Of course the obscenity of 18 year olds in Gucci, Prada, and even one boy in a jailhouse jumper (he must have still been in his costume from last night...his parents must be proud!) all caught my eye, but what really caught my eye was a bright pink Cadilac driving down the street. I smiled, but was distracted when my friends finally arrived (20 minutes AFTER we agreed).

We all caught up, went round the table saying what we were all doing now 6 years after grad school. While most of us are still in schools, you cannot imagine my shock when one girl explained that she only worked in a school for one year before she quit to work for Mary Kay full time. It turns out that she could make more money in one month off her commissions, than she did from the great schol system. So she is now a full time Mary Kay agent. And we're not talking little stuff. She has 3 people that work for her, label her products, ship them, and take her orders. She is one of the top sales people in the country and is the proud owner of the pink Cadilac that went cruising down the street.

Now tell me...what is wrong with our education system when you can make 4x as much money selling Mary Kay and having a bumber sticker on your car that says "Lipstick for Jesus" than being a teacher or a school counselor?

A Name Change

In homage to my favorite blogger out there http://www.nursestar.blogspot.com/ I have changed my name.

I was told by the powers the be (my parents) that they didn't approve of my previous blogger id...and at risk of losing a sizeable pair of diamond earrings and an emerald ring...I have changed my name.

Of course this only effects them and maybe the 2 other people who are reading my blog...but so be it.

So add it to your favorites and read it like a margarita (with lots of salt!)

Happy Birthday to Me!

How does one SAHM (that's stay at home mom for those of you who don't know) spend her birthday. hmmmm...

1. Invite over housekeeper for morning of Feng Shui...or just basic cleaning
2. Lock 5 month old puppy in crate until husband gets home
3. Go to gym, leave 2 year old in the day care for 2 hours. (note: only spend one hour working out, make sure to spend second hour taking a long hot shower, using all the clean towels, throw them on the floor, steal free deoderant and lotion samples, and take time drying hair and putting on makeup...it is basically like going to the spa!)
4. Rush home because you are late to meet 2 year's old baby-sitter.
5. Meet friend out for lunch and don't feel guilty AT ALL for paying $10/hour to have lunch and talk only about our kids!
6. Rush home to put 2 year old down for nap.
7. Wake 2 year old up from nap to introduce him to new babysitter
8. Go out for leisurely dinner, drink too much, and stumble home...

Perfect planning if you ask me!

PS It is a good thing that I planned my own party today since the only card I found in the mail today was from Southwest (they always remember!). But I can't complain too much since I got a little boy to sing me a song or two this afternoon...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kqv6cfR-D0c

The P Word

Penis...potty..what have you, it doesn't matter. For the past 8 days, I have had a clear vision of what my son will be like in college. Naked, dancing to the Rolling Stones, and infatuated with his penis....wait isn't that all boys in college?

Not afraid to bribe the crap out of him (literally), we are now official potty users. No present could be better for my upcoming birthday (please don't tell my husband that...I still want everything I put on the list...and a surprise...but NO running shorts please!)

In fact, it has been such a party, my son declared yesterday "my penis has a birthday cap on it." Well, I did say it was a birthday present, but I really didn't think now was the time to explain how and why his penis came to look like that...no amount of M and M's will help him get over that!

Try As You Might

Ok...I don't usually talking about "trying" since I feel like it is just like saying "yes...we are currently having sex" But what you might not realize is that...oh my god...we are having sex for FOUR DAYS IS A ROW!!!!! We haven't done that since...ummm....June 5, 2004 minus 9 months is...September 2003! Lordy. And I digress.

So in honor of our marathon weekend, I thought I might go to Victoria's Secret and get a little something to spice up our venture. Unfortunately, though, I had to take my 2 year old with me (mental note- Victoria's Secret is NOT a kid friendly store...how do you answer the question "What's that?" as he points to a leather thong?) Digression again...my apologies.

So as I undress to try on a cute little nightgown, the little boy in the 2x2 cubicle with me decides to point out the obvious..."Mommy doesn't have a penis!" But instead of being matter of fact in the information, he is horrified. Imagine a screaming, near crying boy in a stroller wailing "Mommy doesn't have a penis!!!" If he wakes up with a nightmare today, it will be visions of me having my penis cut off in the dressing room of Victoria's Secret.

We escaped Victoria's Secret without too much drama. I now own a new set of flannel PJ's (hello romance!) and the 2 year old was comforted when he got home from the mall, ran into the bathroom where his father was showering and discovered with joy that

"Daddy has a penis too!"

Phew...thank god because if not, I bought those PJs for nothing!

Don't You Know Who I Am?

It's a simple fact that as a stay at home mom you lose most of your identity. You have no tactful answer to the "What do you do?" question. Do you say...

"I'm in janitorial services"
OR
"I'm a caterer"
OR
"I'm starting a small entertainment company specializing in vroom vrooms and choo choos"

Whatever it is you say, no one in the working world has a CLUE or truly cares how you spend your 14 hour days. Until last night, I didn't care because I thought that there was at least one person who truly understood me. Who knew how hard I worked, how much I needed a nap, and how much I looked forward to those unanticipated reruns of Sex and the City. But that was until last night.

It turns out that my initial assessment was right...no one truly knows who I am. I found this out watching TV last night when my most loyal friend TIVO tried to change the channel from CSI Miami to Diagnosis Murder. So not only am I finding things in the Lands End catalgoue more attractive, but my TIVO thinks I am 80 going on 105...

I'm screwed.

You'll Know When You See Me

I'm not really sure why people keep asking me if I am pregnant (2 year old, volvo wagon, new puppy...what makes you think we are going to round this family out with another kiddo?). Well, truth be told, they don't ever actually come out and say it like that. But recently there have been a lot of "is there something you want to tell us??" and "are we sure that there aren't any other pregnant women here???" Of course, all eyes were directed at me and my belly (created by beer, not baby)...which, by the way, was supposed to be protected by a sturdy pair of Spanx...I wan't my money back!.

Let me just put it out there. As a girl who likes her drinks (Diet Cokes and Vodka Tonics alike) there will be NO DOUBT when I am finally pregnant. Let's just say...

you'll know when you see me.