48hrs of me time? WHAAAA?

Success! My left ovary is gone, no I didn't bring it home in a jar to look at because that would be, well...let's just say it, gross. Operation went grrrreat. Most importantly just as I expected all the ladies asked me about my nails, because I'd painted them for once! The Other asked me if I was painting my nails for the surgeons and I responded with "nope, just want nice toes if I die on the operating table" He didn't think that was funny, but a big large laugh from the Other is quite rare as it is. Anyway funny thing happened (not funny in the ha-ha way either) Apparently the Other confirmed with the doctor I can still get pregnant. He's been home what, a coupla weeks, and he's concerned about more kids????? Aaaaack! We almost (I stress the ALMOST here) had a talk about that. He, in his dillusional state (i.e. normal state) thinks 5 is a good number. Not that I need to remind my audience here of all the reasons why MORE children is NOT the best idea, but here is what went through my head 1) I'm so f'n' sure 2) I'm already behind around $100k on funding college education for the ones we do have 3) I'm so f'n' sure.

When he starts pontificating about how great the kids are I have only one billion completely logical counters to his "but I want 'em" argument and one of them is I'M TIRED but we can move forward from that. For once, I decide that saying nothing is the best route because as noted by many, yes, I am the verbal champion in pretty much every debate between the Other and I. I know this because I come from a sane place and the Other shushes me when two hockey players are about to fight as if biiiig things are happening. Really though, in my arsenal are about 50 reasons why having no more children makes sense but there's plenty of time for me to share those and then wasn't the time (Wait, pause, have I changed? Has my ego deflated a bit? I better get back to watching Long Kiss Goodnight, hot damn that Geena Davis kicks butt!) Anyway I know, I'll just save up all my massively good points until it comes to cutthroat time, which I estimate will be when the wee lil' gal turns 2.5yrs. Okay so I put that off, onto the next....

Took the kids to Applebees last night to kill time while the biggest kid was at hockey practice. Who knows why the heck I thought taking a 3 and 1yr old out to dinner would be EASIER than cooking something quickly at home! First, the 1yr old has decided like our human predecessors and folks from around the world that the spoon just inhibits her ability to shove food into her mouth (I can't say I disagree, it just ain't that becoming). I can tell she thinks it really is just an annoying apparatus that her mother forces her to use, bah! I see her thought process as it happens, first she looks at the mashed potatoes, then the spoon...and then, with her whole hand she grabs a handful of the mashed potatoes and manages to fit her entire hand into her mouth. Once that's accomplished, she casually runs her hands through her hair...ooooooh yes, mashed potatoes in hair anyone have a baby wipe that will work on this one??? Next, we're about 2 bites in when the 3yr old stands up on his booster seat and pronounces loudly "I GOTTA GO POOP RIGHT NOW!" and then proceeds to take his boots off and head for the bathroom (he does know where it is because we've ALREADY VISITED IN THERE FOR ABOUT 15 MINUTES IMMEDIATELY AFTER ARRIVING!) I look around apologetically with a bit of a sly smile. Hell, I'm at Applebee's, this ain't Bar LaGrasa folks. Sooo we spend about 25 minutes in the bathroom while our food sits. So in an hour and ten minute Applebee's visit I spent nearly 40 minutes of it in the bathroom. Although reasonably priced for American run o' the mill fare, a $30 bill for an extensive bathroom break does not financially make sense no matter which way ya play it!

Sooooo here's my recent updates:

1) As previously mentioned watched Last Kiss Goodnight oldie but goodie, my sister's favorite movie. She's right, its like Bourne Identity but with a cool hot chick, totally dig it and want to rewatch. Another movie, Dryland with a guy I've never seen. It's about an Iraq vet who returns from the war with a bit of PTSD (is there such a thing as a "bit" of that? probably not) liked this one lots. America Ferrara is actually really good in it and Wilmer Valderrama looks hot with a marine haircut.

2) Had an Amazon gift cert for answering surveys holllaaaa! Bought Black Keys cd Magic Potion. My gosh, has any band since Zeppelin put out only brilliance? I want to marry both of the Black Keys members just to keep them makin' music in my basement. They rock so hard man! Blues, soul, or as my dad would say "those white dudes is cool" ...sooo good. Buy any Black Keys cd's you can but only under these circumstances: you like smokin' electric guitar riffs, your soul craves good ol' blues music, you're super awesome.

3) Heard UGGs are now bad for the feet, apparently the sheepskin can cause foot fungus so not only should you drop $150-$250 on the boots but buy some insoles too. Ummm yeeeea, I'm going to say what really makes sense, they're winter boots NOT shoes for marathon running. If you've got that bad of a foot sweat thing going, insoles and socks will not help. I mean I'm no podiatrist or anything but who goes long distance walking/running in UGGS???

Well that's all I've got, over for now!

Christmas shopping, Boots, and going to the Woman Doc

Well it hasn't quite been a month but what a heck of a couple-a weeks here! Recap of November for all you inquiring minds who've been missing a KB update. I'm big into numbering items because the libra in me likes to see the decisions I need to make in some numerical order. This doesn't actually help me decide it just makes my brain feel more organized. So here goes alllllll the decisions that are still looming in front of my foggy brain:

1) 11yr old wants an Ipod Nano because "its so awesome mom, look at that touch screen". Dilemma: he already has a blasted Ipod. Has consumerism and the spirit of giving gripped me so hard that I am actually going to spend $150 on a an item that does pretty much the same thing as the $150 thing he got less than 2 years ago just to see his face explode into little beams of lightness??? Probably. Still thinking it out though. I'm also avidly checking Ebay, Amazon, Apple, Google for any sign of a cheaper friggin deal cuz dang. $150 bucks is ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY BUCKS! To me that translates into any of the following: a week of groceries, fifteen sweaters at Marshall's (gee I love Marshall's, TJMaxx, and any other store where I can buy a soy based jasmine scented candle, a large Wolfgang puck fry pan with cover, and Puma socks for the kids), or forbid, a little savings money...audible gasp! Anyone know where to get a $20 Ipod Nano that isn't stolen? Lemme know.

2) Went to the woman doc, his words "we gotta get that damn ovary out"...and then he said "forgive me for cussin'". Me, forgive someone for cussin'? He must have read his audience. So I'm going under the knife. I'm a bit nervous after hearing all these stories of people going in for "routine" (routine? really, how many people out there think any surgery is routine?) surgery and ending up on their death bed. Heck, one of my pals we'll call him DG said his friend went in to have a small piece of his tongue cut out and boom bam! DEAD two days later. Aaaaah run for the hills...this makes me think, eh, what's a cyst that's bigger than my ovary, who cares? I'll just deal with it forevaaaaaaa...but alas, modern medicine wins and I want to be pain free so there ya have it. I'm going in same day and comin' out. I am right now giving my right ovary a pep talk and preparing it for battle it sounds something like "you may be going in a team but you're comin' out alone, be strong and stay calm".

3) I want some knee boots. I'm only 5"4'...sure my license says 5"5'...and my weight is 120 with a wet sweater on...hahahahahahhahahahaha I'm dying laughing here. Anyway back to the knee boots...I want some big time baby...I've got skirts just dying to be paired with a great pair of knee boots! Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) I have what appears to be abnormally large calfs. I blame it on those sturdy Finnish women of my past and 12 years of soccer. I'm resigned to stretchy knee boots made of plastic which all my pals know does not fly with me. I don't do plastic. Last time I wore plastic shoes I also carried a Cabbage Patch named Diana after Diana Ross. I once had a pair of Cole Haan knee boots (this was of course prior to having 3 children because those boots could support the family for a month). Black. All leather, pull up, no zip knee boots. I loved those boots like a sibling. However, the left one had a faulty heel (had I paid full price I'd a been a lot more po'd, but I didn't.). Anyway I had the left boot in my trunk and it was in my forward looking business plan to get that heel replaced. Well my car was stolen, in it the f-ing boot! What was my first question to the insurance agent after they found the car? Well, first, I asked about my 100 cd's, one, a bootleg of Led Zeppelin! But second, second was "Didja find the boot?"

4) Last but not least I'm ignoring discussing the Other for fear of retribution from all my supportive women friends who think the Other is a piece of you know what and does not belong home.

5) Oh wait that wasn't last! I submitted to Pei Wei to blog in Asia for 3 weeks and eat delicious cuisine and take pictures and be enigmatic. Oh can you imagine....a mixed gal in Asia? Would I be the first?

6) Oh wait wait, one more, I'm reading Pope Joan (thanks to the Other's mom who has really really good taste in books, have I mentioned how cool she is? She's sewing Christmas pillow covers for me! Oh I've become so Good Housekeeping. What's next a short haircut?) Anyway Pope Joan. Looooove it. Intriguing, wonderfully written book. She's brave, she's smart, she's benevolent. No, women could not (I'm not sure about now, but pretty sure the rule is still the same) become Popes during midieval times...so you can guess how "she" becomes a Pope. Can't think of the author...I'll try for next time.

7) Okay this really is the last one. I've moved from Belgians to Nutbrown Ales. Why oh why do I like beer so much? Surprisingly enough Leinie's is doing a nice job with that Fireside they've come up with. Its much less than the $10 a sixer Frambozen from New Belgium, $10, a sixer? What is this New York?

So Here I Go Again On My Own......

Oh Whitesnake, you're preachin to the choir! I am goin' down the only road I've ever known...except I'm not.

Couples counseling? Return of the Other? Contemplation of family life is on the brain. It's been about a month without the Other and we're survivin'. He wants to go to counseling...hmmmm...I heard a statistic, which, yes I know, is just a statistic, it said something like 80% of married couples who go to counseling ultimately get divorced. Reason being; in counseling you rehash everything wrong with your marriage versus looking to the future and working on that...Me, I'm big on rehashing, analyzing, picking apart every little thing said, every gesture, every shrugged shoulder, every roll of eye...what's the problem here? I need to know what every insignificant tidbit means in order to get to the bottom of the issue que no? Hmmm so everyone (my mother, father, friends) suggests counseling...and maybe we do need counseling. There are definitely some major things the Other needs some help with, anger, depression, lack of ambition. Really though, how many fellas do you know who are out there searching for their inner self who don't wear a daishiki and aren't practicing tantric sex or something? (Sidenote: has anyone watched HBO's Real Sex? Why are they all filmed prior to 1994? And does every male sex therapist have to wear a turtle neck and a mood ring?) So the Other's got issues that need some work, but the big truth of it all...so do I. WHAAAA???? It's true. I can be a bit bossy...or so I've been told. I figured out that I have a huge ego and think I'm pretty perfect, yup I do. I also figured out that I've taken the Mama Bear thing a bit far...I've bitten and scratched and gnashed my teeth over everything in order to maintain control and in the meantime forgotten there's no "I" in team...oh wow, was that cheesy or what? Well I guess its true. Now the question, do I want to be a team player? I truly don't know. I've always wondered about this whole "need a man" thing. Do I need a man? Its actually been pretty damn great having the pad to myself. I put the kids to bed, I have a cocktail, paint my toes, and watch movies. I mean, yes, I do miss companionship (on Saturdays, not so much the rest of the week) okay enough joking, yes, I miss the guy. I miss the way he picks up the 1yr old and she puts her nose to his and they smile and giggle at each other. I miss the way he takes the boys in the basement for hours to hit foam hockey pucks while I actually accomplish something like cleaning the bathroom.....

So the Other and I are talking, trying to figure out our mojo and what we're gonna do with ourselves. Do we go to counseling? Do we get a joint checking account? Do I give up some control? Do I write up a list of chores for the household and truly run the house like a business? Eeeeewww, but maybe necessary. So that's what's whirling around in this brain o' mine...also some other mega important stuff like:

1) Watched Point Break last night. First, watched the last hour of the movie, then because they played it again, the first hour. RIP Patrick Swayze, you rocked some frosted tips and pleated pants like no other. Also, cannot look at Keanu Reeves without picturing Andy Samburg parodying him and his deadpan face(is parodying a word??). Hi-larious as my gal pal would say. Best line from Swayze's character to Jonnie Utah"You're a radical Son of a Bit*h"

2) Next year I'm donating the Halloween candy 24hrs immediately following the big day. Even the 1yr old is coming home screaming "canny canny canny"

3) I watched Sex In the City 2 (seeeee I get to watch these movies again! separation ain't all bad!), okay wow, over the top. I'm so sure, Dior T-shirts and Laboutin shoes to go to a market or whateva? A quick trip to Dubais to stay in a $22k/night hotel? Riiiight. I'm excited for Breezy Point sans little tikes in December! I will admit to at least 3 costume changes on the weekends though. I have a morning cooking breakfast look, a cleaning and I'm a bit warm now look, a post shower now running errands look and finally a, let me put on my drinkin' pants look...ha, laughing to myself.

4) Last, side ponytails do not belong on anyone who can legally vote. Really. I saw a woman around the age of we'll say 65 to give her the benefit of the doubt. Her makeup was done by the artists from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. She had on a red nylon jacket with gold buttons (of course), red high top Reeboks (fo real! Flo Rida is on that!), and a side pony with an oversized RED scrunchie! Yes, I said it, S C R U N C H I E. OH MY G.

Zeppelin said it best "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You"

A friend of mine sent me a text, "when are you going to change your relationship status to single?"...I responded with something about not wanting to answer questions and people being in my "business"...Then I really thought about it and asked myself why I'm so hesitant to declare my status to the world. Those of you who know me know that I am really about the least private person in the world. I mean I spent last Wednesday sobbing at my desk and dabbing at my eyes amidst texting and calling anyone who would listen to me cry silently into the phone. I have a blog, I have a Facebook, I have a Myspace, I have 2 emails, I have a cell phone of which I answer even when faced with stop and go traffic. Soooo to claim privacy is really bull....I just am not sure yet whether I feel single. Yes, I am living as the solo parent in my household and yes, I see that as my future but am not quite ready to hear from long lost high school friends who want to send me a frowny face and a solemn "I'm here for you" message when we haven't actually spoken in person since high school soooo.......That's it, for now The Other is finding himself and me and the kids are well, we're getting up in the morning and going to middle school and daycare and then coming home and eating dinner. I'm saying things like "two more bites of peas or no cookie", I'm hardcore. If its a hockey night we're eating dinner in 22 minutes (sidenote, once again, attention nation: where is the award show dedicated to those of us with this talent?? Will someone please commend me for fixing up a healthy balanced meal and getting 3 kids to eat it within 22 minutes! Eh, I'll pat myself on the back, all of you who do the same go ahead give yourself a pat you deserve it too) I then after those 22 minutes, attempt to wash some dishes while wiping off the baby while putting on the 3yr olds shoes while yelling at the 11 year old who despite telling me he's ready cannot find his water bottle. We then all get in the car and I find myself letting a brief sigh of relief escape. Mission almost accomplished. So uh yea, not much has changed except a lot. I was a single mom of one 5 years ago, then a single mom with an Other if you get my drift, now a single mom with 3. Oh my, an ocean is calling my name.

Crawling under the covers

So its been a hell of a week, year, century. I am preparing my brain for the future and my crystal ball is fuzzy. My magic 8ball is even unclear...on each side of the di I'm reading "I dunno". A friend of mine today told me she's been secretly flicking off her coworker every time she walks by this coworker's cube. Its a silent F.U. which makes me laugh, I care not how immature that sounds! I love it, just picturing her sneaking by the cube, her sweater almost catching on the faux carpet lined wall and snickering to herself, feeling so much better after having jammed two middle fingers in the air...kinda. Well that seems to be the sentiment I'm hearing lately. Everything from, "I'm seeing shadows" to "my back's been killing me"...I've got a long list of things to lament about but since I have tomorrow off of work...I think instead, I'll wake up late (that's 6am versus 5:30am) drink some delicious fresh ground coffee and dig into Anywhere But Here (a phenomenal book by Mona Simpson that I'm rereading) and then languish for a while in my robe. Wake the little ones up to take the big one to school, then somehow coordinate taking a shower while keeping tabs on the 3 and 1yr old (this is where my imagined military training comes in...special ops time man!) drop them off at daycare and take my mother to lunch for her birthday. We're going downtown! Whooo we've hit the big time ya'll! And after it all when it gets quiet, after all kids are in bed, I'm going to crawl under the covers and do what we women sometimes do, have a good hard cry. I'll probably drink a bottle of wine in there, but not under the covers...

It's Been a Long Time Since I Rocked and Rolled...but I did.

Well well well, it has been a while since I've last written. Perhaps I'm building the anticipation, waiting for just the right moment to spring some newfound wisdom on ya'll...like a smack to the face, BAM! You're a changed person now. Okay, that sounds a bit introspective, something of my own expectations about day to day life. No, I don't want to be smacked in the face, I hear it makes your eyes water and also produces a very red cheek. Can you imagine someone slapping you in the face? I am doing it again. Imagining what I'm gonna do when someone does that to me, oh I'm gonna hawl off and smack that person back and then I'm gonna put my hand on my hip and then I'm gonna....wait wait wait, no one has smacked me! I do that, let myself exaggerate myself into actions that I probably would never do. If slapped I would probably stand there and then cry and in my head reenact what I should have done. By that time the slapper would be long gone, and me, the slappee, would be standing there red faced with only a story. Okay onto reality and off of my musings...I've been lost in the land of sickness and children and lack of sleep. Yes, I went to Chicago and then I was back like I never left. It was 60 hours of lusted after freedom that afforded me the grandeur of walking in Wicker Park, taking a picture with my leg up (kind of like the Captain Morgan commercials) on a fountain, and buying something ridiculously expensive at a boutique called Una Mae's (a delightful little place I must say). I've worn the item I purchased nearly every day. A black shawl/jacket sorta deal that falls just so around the hips and derrier. It can look tres chic with jeans or smooth and suave with black pants. I imagine at some point, when I'm feeling skinny, I'll slick my hair back Sade style and put on J-lo hoops. Perhaps I'll attend a play in it (ha, when invited to a play I usually come up with some sort of "oooo already have plans" excuse..but sadly I feel like since I'm artsy I should like plays, I don't, there its out there). The brand is called Gentle Fawn, so thanks to Gentle Fawn for creating one of the most versatile, comfortable, gorgeous items of clothing I've ever owned. It has no buttons and sleeves that get real tight at the wrist. Can you tell I love it? Love it like my own children. Ha ha, just joshin'. But being the fashion gal that I am, I really do keep looking at it to make sure my children don't rub goo all over it.

Chicago was amazing, good eats, too much cocktailin' (Saturday ended 7am Sunday) and Belgian beers. Dear makers of Bell's, you make a dang good beer, will you marry me? Matilde is the new one, 3 beers in one! Oh yes, why didn't I think of this? However, I'd take a reduction in calories because after drinking Belgians all summer I've noticed the "baby weight" (okay she's 15mos...not so much a newborn, but I'm not particular here) is stickin' around. I'm having to suck in when I button pants and every shirt I owned pre-child comes to my belly button. Love that look, I can see the headlines from my runway show now "Mom of three brings back the much awaited half shirt"...smattering of applause and I look in the audience and see my mom. Fade to black.......

Random thoughts:

1) 3yr old has picked up "FINE" as his favorite word as in, "FINE MOM, I'll take bath!" this is then followed by heavy stomping, he's 3, really? Really really?

2) Baby girl has been sick for days, I think she cried for 72hrs straight. At one point she was rolling back and forth while a steady "unnnnhhhh unnnnnh" cry escaped her wide open mouth.

3) I AM your superwoman (this is to the Other). I can make meat loaf, homemade gravy, mashed potatoes, and a veggie for dinner WHILE HOLDING A BABY on my hip. Oh yea baby, bring on the dads who can do that. I'm gonna have a THROWDOWN BOBBY FLAY STYLE! The challenge is on the table.

4) I can't not sleep for 24hrs and not expect to pay for it for at least a week. Yes, I'm STILL trying to catch up. (okay 10 hours straight of alcohol in there may play a small part in this)

5) I'm reading Geek Love, thank you "C" for gettin' that to me. I feel incredibly unbred that this book has been around since 1989 and I'm just now Googling the author to get all credible tidbits of info into her brain. I mean seriously a book about a family of circus freaks? A boy with fins, a set of Siamese twins who play the piano, an albino dwarf with a hunchback and a telekinetic kid? It might be single handedly the oddest book I've ever read, which makes it intriguing which means it's a book I read until my eyes can't focus anymore and I realize I once again am going to get less sleep than I intended. But dang, Geek Love, you make my brain twirl.

6) Last, the Other, I must share a positive, the kids were clean, happy, and fed upon my return. The house was a little tornadoed but that was to be expected. All in all, like I told him, this just means I can go when I need to. What a feeeeeeelllliiiiiinnn!

Blenders and shoes

So I spent the last week taking my son in for an accident with a blender, excuse me, a smoothie maker (side note people keep asking me if it's like the magic bullet, I say "no" only because I thought the magic bullet was some sort of sex toy!). He's attempting to make a smoothie, leaves the blade on the console of the machine, his elbow slips and the rest is all screaming, blood dripping down arm, rush to E.R. (well as "rush" as you can with a sick baby and a 3yr old). E.R. doc was awesome in the frat boy sense. He was 6'4", kinda good looking in the I still play basketball and down some brews with my buds Dad kinda way and very talkative and personable. I have to admit he was much more attractive after seeing us merely 15 minutes after our arrival. Has anyone ever gotten in and out of an ER in less than four hours? I went in while pregnant with my 1yr old diva because I could not keep any food down. I think I sat with a garbage between my legs for 3hrs in the waiting room. Then once moved into the actual E.R. I waited for another 45 minutes for someone to come in, it was the registration people not even the nurse. Once finally poked and prodded the doc orders me up a Zofran and sends me home. Total visit 5.5hrs, total time spent with actual hospital staff approximate 18 minutes, total cost after insurance, $370 big ones. Anyway I digress.

I'm reading Candy Girl by Diablo Cody (yes, I'm way late and uncool). My ridiculously supportive quasi mother in law (the Other and I are thankfully not betrothed) gave it to me in an unmarked envelope and told me not to tell anyone that she was the one who gave it to me. Love her so much. She cracks me up. Now that I'm into the book I get why. This is definitely not something the ladies at book club would discuss. Hey anyone, ever been to Sex World? How about Dreamgirls? What did you think about Diablo Cody letting a girl suck on her......well you get the picture. I dare someone to come up with some literary questions for me to contemplate this Candy Girl....

Other than the my son's battle with the smoothie maker, I spent a good 20 hours trying to find shoes for my daughter. Not shoes with sparkles, bows, and slick black bottoms that are one step away from "I'm waitin' on my check from my baby daddy". Shoes for a one year old that don't slip when she walks and actually bend as in, baby walking here! Tell me why a 1yr old would need platform sandals? Anyone?