Greetings from the Crotch Queen

So I stole my title from fellow BabyCenter writer and friend Kim Moldofsky who attended Camp Baby earlier this year. Hosted by Johnson and Johnson as a vehicle to show blogging moms their products, she apparently came home with a ginormous load of freebies, including a life time supply of K-Y jelly. Word on the street is I'll be getting some, too. I have never used it, but I will attest to this: Sex lubricant is one item I won't buy used.

Speaking of sex, my Good Housekeeping blog occasionally gets comments from people other than perverts, teenagers and mad men whose wives kicked them on the street for their porn and fast food habits. One commenter in particular was Diana Jerome who sells products for an internet toy company. Ahemmmm...

She asked if I was interested in buying some of her products. I told her if she wanted to send me some free samples I was indeed interested. Cut to one week later - this is what I got today!

As I cracked open my pistachios and drank my coffee, I went through the box. Rex drank his glass of milk while perusing the catalog. It had everything from racy to very mild, like the cream pictured: X-Scream. I immediately opened it up, applied it to my lips, and then looked at Rex, who laughed:

* "Oh my God! That is why they do animal testing. For bozos like you who just try stuff without bothering to read if it's even for your lips in the first place. They're exploding! Oh no!"

He's upstairs now. I hear the shower running. Too bad my products are down here! Ha ha ha!

Anyway, thanks Diana.

** If any of you want to reach her, you can here or email her at diana.jerome@slumberparties.com

Asterik translations:

* No, neither of us believe in animal testing. Relax. It was a joke! (Nor do I believe in some of the animal prints in the catalog. Matching Tarzan outfits? Sorry Diana. No Rexs of the jungle at mi casa! But the other stuff was intriguing.)

** Yes, I just did a blatant plug for someone's business. Why? #1. I got free stuff. #2. I like Diana. I don't know her. But I like her. And #3. Good for her for leaving me a comment and following up. Why don't more of us women put our necks out there? If we don't ask, we don't get.

So there. All done! Now go to her website! Or not. As for me, I'm going to bed with my new Basic Instinct pheromone mate attractor. I think if I rubbed beer on myself and played Star Trek theme music, that might work, too.

More of my writing can be found on Goodhousekeeping
& Babycenter. I write under the name Andrea Frazer. Drop me a note! I’d love it! Or don’t.

Twisting Through Life

I hope none of you had family affected by the big Virginia twister. I'm waiting to hear from a friend about his mom who lives there part time. I'm sure she's okay, but you never know.

And by "friend", I mean "ex-husband". Not that this fact has any merit other than some salacious intrigue, but with life so short, why not throw it in?

My friend has a blog himself. I'll wait to see if it's okay that I share it with you. Baldo's dad, are you there? Do you want one million women hopping over to your site? Now's your chance! (Okay, one hundred women... whatever.)

On other breaking news, my mom is now able to walk to the bathroom in under an hour, thanks to her healing ankle. By Friday she should be able to write that novel "Around the Block in 80 Days". Look for it in big print at a store near you.

* Side note: My mom got a call from her 80 year old brother with this thick Jersey accent. "So, sis, are you feeling better? It's so great to find out about your busted foot through your daughters blog!" Hi to any and all of my fellow Eastern clan that read this. I hope I make you proud with all my talk about tics, poop, sex and Mothers Animal cookie excess. Not necessarily in that order. Write when you can.

Today, my son had these minor vocal tics - kind of like light "beeps" and I was feeling like the crappiest mom ever because they were driving me CRAZY. And really, it's not his fault. So I didn't say anything and tried to think positive happy thoughts. Unfortunately, the thoughts kept being interrupted by annoying beeps so I wasn't really winning that game.

Side note again: Stink, if you ever read this down the road, know that I love you to pieces. I promise to give you lots more to hate me for than working through my noise issues. Like the time I'll show up at your First Communion training dressed as Barney. That'll teach you to steal that chocolate.

People, the truth is, my son is fine with a few tics. They really are small. It's ME that has the issue. I need to get over it. I really do. Because honestly, it could get worse, it could get better. What he needs is a mom who 100% loves him no matter what. Which I do. But I don't need to get so crazy over it. I need to have some faith in what I'm doing. Which is a lot. So that's enough of that.

Tonight, along the lines of dealing with differences in a positive light, Stink picked out "Don't Cry Big Bird" as a bed time book. It was a new one, but as fate would have it, it was all about how Big Bird feels different and cries about it. But his friends all do nice things like make the hop scotch game bigger. Or all of them sit on one side of the see saw so he can bounce with them. The moral: Difference is not that bad. You just need to adjust and move on.

Yeah, I didn't feel stupid or anything.

My Ren Fair Lady

I might have mentioned that we went to the Renaissance Fair a few weekends back. Kind of dusty, kind of dirty, but all around a great time.

It's nice to let out steam. It's not saving the world, but it saved our sanity. Pretty darn good if you ask me.

Tonight my best friend from kindergarten, Topanga T, came over at 4 so that Rex and I could go to the Dorothy Chandler Pavillion for My Fair Lady. AT & T sponsored the event - the same people who sent us to Jersey Boys last year. Free tickets, parking and dinner? Yeah, I know how lucky I am.

While the actual choreography, sets and talent were outstanding, I have to say that I hated the storyline. A gruff professor grabs some poor girl off the street, teaches her to speak nicely just to win a bet, is verbally abusive to her (and threatens to hit her), and alludes to throwing her back on the street when he wins.

Then she gets mad and leaves him. (Yeah!) Then she misses him. (Huh?) Then he treats her like crap again. (Baffoon!) Then he misses her. (Too late, buddy.) Then they get together. (Oh, not too late after all. Now this "lady" gets to live with a tramp after all. How romantic.)

I probably have thought about this too much, but that's my opinion.

Do we all have some gutter mouths in us? I do. That's for sure. Do we all have some ladies in us? I hope so. I bet you male readers hope so even more! Dumb joke. It's late. Moving on.

All I know is that I hope Pipsqueak knows better than to fall for some guy who treats her like an object. I'm guessing if he ever asks her to speak into a horned shaped recording device, she'll tell him to take it where the sun don't shine. Not even the rain in Spain will dislodge it.

Thief! Thief! Give Me My Normalcy Back!

Thank you to those of you who emailed me outside of this blog. It's been a little bonkers around here. Some good stuff, some not so good stuff, some bizarre stuff... Like my cooking, let's just throw it all out there and let you taste it for yourself. Insight, humor, or insults all welcome.

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* Stink's EEG: The upside? Stink has normal brain frequency. No epilepsy. That means that when he tics, it's just that... tics. I'm relieved, though of course, it would have been nice to have a cause. The downside of the EEG: It's now official that my HMO is the worst health insurance on the planet. Well... that's not true. If you're healthy, it's terrific! If you're a 5 year old boy about to get electrodes placed on his head, it's not so great. Example: Stink (to the tech, after asking her five times and not getting his questioned answered): Will this hurt? Tech: No. Stink: Are you sure it won't hurt? Tech: I can make it hurt.

* Kindergarden for Stink: Downside: We did not get into our first choice charter school. The luck of the Irish, the luck of the Jewish and the luck of the English (all my background) were NOT with us. Charters here are done in a public lottery. You either get a good one, or not.) Upside: We got into another! Entreprenuer business school! No joke! Taught by strict Russians. (Think thick legs, thick accents, shouting...)"We will not stop until all our kids are Harvard bound!" Holy Moly. Free tuition, small classes, personalized curiculum. I'm there. So he has a business plan at 5. Whatever.

* My Good Housekeeping Blog: Upside: It shot to one of the top spots and was syndicated by Yahoo in their new female driven platform Shine. Downside: Yahoo uses tags like "dominatrix" and "sex slave" to get traffic. And so a blog about my responsibilites called "All Tied Up" will get horny men living in the middle of nowhere (or next door to me... who knows) who find my face next to the word "spanking". Terrific. And needless to say, when they find out it's a tame blog about romance and marriage, they're pretty mad. The comments are not exactly pleasant. As far as getting my writing exposed? Great! But being personally exposed? Not so much. I signed up to write about marriage and sex, not be associated with bondage.

* Yesterday. Upside: I drove my mom and the kids to my sister's to go swimming. It was sunny! And breezy! Perfect! Downside: Until my mom didn't see a really uncommon thing my sister has near her driveway called A STAIR and fell down. Hard. Broke her ankle and everything. Ambulance. Fire Truck. Couldn't move. It was so! Much! Fun! She's getting a cast as I type.

* Tonight: Upside: I'm going to dinner with Rex since Stella is here! Downside: I have to first return a wheelchair to a friend and get my mom home and get the kids to bed and... and...

* Tomorrow: Upside: Stella gets to take the kids to school. Downside: I get to go right back to the same HMO that I just went to last week for Stink's EEG, and yesterday and today for my mom's ankle, because she's having major eye problems and is going to get drugged up. I can't wait to see her on a martini and Vicadin.

With this week so crazy, not sure what will happen about my plans tomorrow. I was supposed to go see this new documentary about Tourettes at UCLA. It has been planned for over a month. I so rarely go out at night. I got a sitter and the whole nine yards. I know that Stink has such a minor case compared to what's highlited in the film, but I'm dying to meet the top docs in the field who will be there. I'm hoping to work my "getting to know you/invite me to your house for a Diet Coke/look at my cute boy if I need your help later I'm calling" magic.

On top of all this, the kids have been terrific, but soooo sneaky. I have so many stories about Stink it's not even funny, but I'll share later. Let's just say that I wish these devices, from the Rennaissance Fair last weekend, were mine. I could use them.

I owe so many of you visits. Don't leave me! I'll be back...

More of my writing can be found on Goodhousekeeping
& Babycenter. I write under the name Andrea Frazer. Drop me a note! I’d love it! Or don’t.

Taking a bite out of life

So tomorrow I am taking Stink for an EEG for his tics. I want to rule out epilepsy. I don't think it's absence seizures, but given that his bad eye rolls are a bit disconcerting when they happen (which luckily are less and less these days) I'm not taking any chances.

The good news is that since we've gone gluten free for good, I see some remarkable changes. He rarely tics like he used to. But... I'm scared to say this... it could be the cycle of the tic. What if after knocking my socks off they come back? Am I just kidding myself?

Or am I simply eating healthy so it's not a big deal? Other than I might be causing more stress with the constant "Yes, you can have a cookie, it's just sugar... but no food dyes... and that hotdog? Sure... but no bread."

What if I do all groundwork and it doesn't do a damn thing but make me the butt of some college story where he's like, "My mom used to drag in wheat free pizza to every Chuck E. Cheese party from the time I was 5. It suuuucked."

I'm holding my ground though. Do we walk around feeling sorry for the Jewish kid who can't have the cheese burger? No. He doesn't eat milk and cheese as part of his culture. It's accepted and we make adjustments. So Stink and the family will have to make adjustments to my crappy cooking, too!

What choice do I have? At least with the diet I feel like I'm controlling something.

Ha. Like I have control over anything anymore.

And now what I lack control of the most? My heart. It loves these kids so much I could cry from the emotional overload of it all. And guess what? Today I did.

But better now. Thanks, Mom.

* Photo of Stink eating gluten free corn spaghetti. Rex spent an hour on the sauce and made tons of extras. I told him that the kids wouldn't eat it and to make the pasta seperate. His response: "If I'm going to eat fake noodles, they can try my masterpiece." Clearly Stink hated it.

How are you all? I owe so many of you visits. Honestly, I'm in outerspace right now with too much going on. But I think of you often and will poke in soon. Make way! You can't escape!

Peas & Thank You's

I recall watching Maria Shriver on Oprah last year promoting latest book on motherhood. She said that what she remembers most about growing up was not what she was given materially, but what her parents taught her about life and thinking.

Dinner time was not about "What did you do at school?" Since Dad founded the Peace Corps, it's not surprising that it was about "How can you use your talent at changing the world?"

Shriver drove home the point that sitting together at the table is more than food for our bodies. It's food for our souls.

Take last night for example. My son dropped a green veggie in my water. I thought it would be a great opportunity to school him on saving the planet, but settled on teaching him bad jokes.

Me: "Hey, don't pea in my water!"

Him: (Confused look)

Me: "Get it? 'Cause it's a pea. And you shouldn't pee either. It's a double entendre. A joke! That we say at home - never at school. Especially not during circle time. Or when you're practicing the sign of the cross. Jesus and veggie jokes - not a great combo. Though it worked for Veggie Tales. But I digress."

He looked at me in a daze. Oh well. He'd understand later.

I got up to get water. Just when I thought my material was going to be wasted, Rex sits down. Stink drops a green veggie in his water.

Stink: "Hey, I peed in your water, Papa!"

Papa: "Cute."

Stink: "Get it? PEEEEED!" Guffaw, chuckle, hee hee heee.

Papa: (Serious) "Very nice. But no toilet jokes at dinner."

Stink: "You mean you didn't flush before touching your noodle?"

(I showed amazing restraint at that one.)

Papa: "I mean no talk about pee, poo, or anything related to the bathroom."

Pip: (Suddenly piping up, huge brown eyes, all earnest) "And no talk about diarrhea either?"

Stink is now hysterical and Pip, though not sure why, joins in the merriment.

Papa, to quote a book I just read, morphs into Ward Cleaver. "No talking about anything that exits from any orefice. Which means hole. As in your body. ENOUGH."

There's quiet for a minute.

Stink: "But if we really have to pee, that's okay, right?"

Rex is speechless now. But he had to admit, Stink did have a point.

I'm not sure if this was the kind of "thinking outside the box" Shriver was talking about, but it's a memory for me, that's for certain.