Eventually

Eventually, I will post this wonderful blog all about nostalgia. (Since I'm coming up on a birthday, it's got me thinking...) But right now I'm swamped by Brownie stuff, and the first grade scrapbook. Which will, of course, be a work of art befitting display in one of the world's finest art museums...

But - in the meantime, here's a funny funny that was in the paper on Sunday. I just LOVE Danny Donkey. Hopefully you will too. (Click on the pic if it's too small to read the words...not a cruel joke, I swear...)

I Am a Sucky Mom Compared to Kate

Last night I got the chance to catch up on my recorded episodes of "Jon and Kate Plus 8". (If you aren't familiar with this one, it's a show on TLC about a couple that has 7 year old twin girls, and sextuplets (yes - that's right - SIX kids) that are 3.) Anyway, in any given episode, I can be amazed and awed by how well this woman handles 8 kids under the age of 8. But then I watched the "Valentine's Day" episode.

In this episode, she starts the day by making home-made heart shaped pancakes for all 8 kids. OK - special occasion. I get it. Then, the kids come down, and she has special Valentine's place mats for each of them, special Valentine's goody pouches on each of their chairs, and they all are wearing cute matching Valentine's Day shirts. OK - at this point I'm thinking "gee - all I did was buy my kids some little heart boxes with chocolate in them." Chocolate that I eventually ate, no less...

Then - after the 2 older girls head out to school, Kate makes the little kids homemade edible playdoh. Edible freakin playdoh. COME ON! Then - during the day, she manages to write up little scavenger hunt clues, hide them all over the house, and when the older girls get home from school, they do Valentine's Day Scavenger Hunt. At the end is a giant wrapped box full of more Valentine's Day goodies. AND she bought and wrapped a gift for her husband too. Oh - and got them cute Valentine's Day shirts. Too.

I get Family Fun magazine. I see where you CAN make your own playdoh (some edible, some not.) But why on Earth would anyone do that when you can BUY perfectly good, cheap Playdoh at the store? I saw 5 little tins of the stuff for a dollar at Michael's just today!

I am soooooooooooo suspicious, now. Where did she find the time to make up clues, write them on cutesy pink and red pieces of paper, hide them, AND get a big goody box at the end? OBVIOUSLY the camera crew helps. All this, and her kids were all clean, and her house was in reasonable shape. No way - not possible.

Here's how MY day went today, and it's not even Valentine's Day: Get up. Get kid #1 up. Make coffee. Make Kid #1 oatmeal and milk. Pack kid #1's lunch while she eats. Go upstairs to get kid #1 dressed, teeth brushed, and school stuff ready. Bart takes kid #1 to bus stop. Go into bathroom and wash face, brush teeth, and begin make-up. Try to get kid #2 up. Go back for more coffee. Go back to try to finish make-up and put on clothes. Try again to get kid #2 up. We are supposed to leave for school in 20 minutes. FINALLY get kid #2 up. Bart hustles him to get dressed while I pack dry cheerios, yogurt, and milk for the car ride. Load kid #2 into car with travelling breakfast, and remember I forgot to pack kid #2's lunch. Run back in and throw stuff in a lunch bag. (No homemade pancakes here, don't cha know...) Drive kid #2 to school - arrive 10 minutes late. Leave school, go to Michael's to get fusible webbing (supposed to make Karlin's d%*mned Brownie patches to stay on), and a floral ring to make a diaper wreath for an upcoming baby shower. While there, I realize that - "Hey! Easter is in 4 days, and I don't have anything for their baskets." So I spend 20 minutes cruising for cute crap to put in the baskets. Head home. Change clothes and do 1 hour and 15 minutes of strenuous yard work. (I actually enjoy this.) Then - special treat! - LUNCH AT A RESTAURANT WITH BART! Yipee! I suppose I could have spent this time making homemade somethings, but hell - a girl's gotta eat. Even when I shouldn't. But that's another story. Back to the day. Pick up kid #2 at school. Bring him home, leave him with Bart. Go to pick up kid #1 and her friend from school. Host kid #1's friend for play date. Try (unsuccessfully) to get kid #2 down for nap so he won't disturb husband working from home. Create worksheet for girl scout meeting. Drive kid #1 and her friend to the Girl Scout meeting (a bank tour). Kid #1 behaved HORRIBLY at the tour. Run by Target to pick up supplies for the yard work I didn't complete. Get home and vent to husband. Eat a quick dinner, then have "the talk" with the sassy, disrespectful kid #1. And now we're solidly into homework & bath time.

So when was I supposed to do the scavenger hunt? Or the homemade playdoh? Or the pancakes? And I only have TWO kids. AND my husband was working from home today, so I had some help.

I could have axed the lunch. And the yard work probably could have waited. But the baby shower is a week and a half is at MY house, and the yard needs serious help before real people see it. I am the co-Leader of the Brownie Troop, so I had to go there.

So I suck compared to Kate. Kate who looks pretty skinny after 8 kids, and manages to do all that cool stuff like make homemade edible playdoh. And scavenger hunts.

WANTED: Camera crew. Need not operate actual camera. Must only be able to hold down kids while I make homemade playdoh. Must also be able to write clues on and cut out cute little pieces of paper. And help make pancakes. Experience not necessary.

Personal Responsibility

Oh. My. God. This is the kind of crap that makes me want to move to Barbuda, I swear.

Yesterday, I actually stole a few minutes away to watch "Good Morning America." They did a feature about a woman - a laywer - who used to be extremely sucessful - large income, big clients, etc. She started taking weekend trips to Las Vegas with friends, and got into gambling. The weekend trips turned into week-long trips. And then multi-week trips. In the end, she was literally sitting at the tables for DAYS at a time, with no sleep and no meals. She was brushing her teeth with baby wipes, and the poor waitresses were so worried about her that they were bringing her fruit juice and crackers so that she wouldn't collapse at the table. Needless to say, this woman, who is clearly addicted to gambling, lost everything and then some.

So how does she begin to pick up the pieces of her life? Does she attend Gambler's Anonymous? Maybe. Does she stop going to Vegas? Yes. But what is her REAL PLAN for getting a leg back up?

SHE'S SUING THE CASINOS. Yes, that's right folks. Apparently the casinos - whose whole purpose for existence is to provide entertainment to people while making money - these casinos LET HER GAMBLE!!! They LET HER LOSE ALL OF HER MONEY!!! How dare they?

Someone correct me if I am out of line here, but to my knowledge no one at the casino put a gun to her head and made her sit at those tables. No one pushed her hand into her pocket for the ATM card to get more money. No one went onto the computer for her and booked her airline tickets to sin city. Yes, she has an addiction. But is that the casino's fault? No, no, no. Millions of people gamble for fun and entertainment every week in Veags without serious problems.

But this chick refuses to take PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY for her own actions. Instead, she wants someonw else (the casinos) to be to blame for her own illness, lack of discipline, and poor decision making.

And really, isn't this at the root of many of the probelms we're having in America today? Nothing is anyone's fault - someone else is ALWAYS to blame. How DARE McDonald's serve hot coffee that is actually hot? It's obvioulsy THEIR fault that dumbass spills it on himself and gets burned. And all the fast food places...they obviously strive to make people fat on purpose. It's THEIR fault that Bubba eats Whoppers 7 days a week, and supersizes even his ketchup packets.

You know what? I am not a supermodel. (Gasp - I know. Try to contain your shock and disappointment...) I weigh more than I ideally should. Do you know why? Because I CHOSE to have pizza for dinner last night. Because I CHOOSE to exercise only 3-4 times a week, instead of 5-6. Because I CHOOSE to eat bread and drink beer. Is it Budweiser's fault that I am flabby? Absolutely not. It's MY FAULT. I make these choices, and I live with the consequences of these choices.

My mom made me learn this lesson very, very young. When I was about 5, I stole a piece of candy from the little candy store up the street from my house. The store was owned by a sweet little old man, who later turned most of the store into an arcade. When my mom discovered what I did, she marched me back to the store. Then I - crying hysterically - had to explain EXACTLY what I did, and then apologize. (Kids always cry when they are guilty. Actually, lots of adults do too.) Little old candy man of course crumpled at the site of my tears, and told me it was OK - I could keep the candy. But of course my evil mother intervened, and it was not to be. Another incident happened on the school bus. I think I was throwing paper or something - I don't remember. But I got in trouble. My mom (who was the school secretary) marched me into Mr. Massey's office. (Mr. Massey was the dreaded elementary school principal. It was rumored that he had this larger-than-life paddle with holes drilled into it. The holes made it hurt more when you got paddled. Oh - the fabulous days of corporal punishment. The funny thing is, I don't think anyone ever actually GOT paddled. It was the FEAR of the paddling that made the difference. But I digress...) Anyway, I had to march into Mr. Massey's office - again, bawling - and tell him exactly what I did and apologize. Now Mr. Massey, after years of being exposed to guilty crocodile tears, was immune to them. He gave me a stern warning and the "disappointed in you" speech. I am pretty sure I never got in any serious trouble again until high school.

So it all goes full circle. Today, Brenda's mommy won'accept that little Brenda could possibly do anything wrong. When little Brenda is busted throwing paperballs on the bus, Brenda's mommy marches into the principal's office and demands to know why HER little angel is accused of such a heinous offense. OBVIOUSLY is was little Jimmy's fault - he started it. And that bus driver - she's always hated litle Brenda since day one. And where does the Principal find these employees, anyway? The bus is FULL of hoodlums whose parents don't properly discipline them, and all of that bad influence is rubbing off on little Brenda. If little Brenda isn't excused from all of these trumped-up charges, Brenda's mommy is going to write letters to the Governor and every newspaper in the area, pointing out the Principal's gross incompetence. Then Brenda's mommy is going to go to the School Board and demand an apology to little Brenda. In 99% of the cases, the School Board will actually make the Principal apologize to Brenda and her mommy. Then 25 years later, Brenda is suing the casinos because she was stupid and lost all her money at Blackjack.

Beautiful.

All I can hope is that some judge gets the case and tosses the woman out on her blackjack-table-seat-flattened ass. But I wouldn't bet on it...