Scenes 4, 5 & 6

So this takes you thru to Act 1. Act 2 will be posted tomorrow in one big post to make it easier to read.

SCENE D
EXT. STORM CELLAR - MOMENTS LATER (JIMMY, GEORGE, CRAZY EDDY, FRANKIE, HILLARY)

Jimmy steps outside his house to see George walking up the driveway they share. He's still in a kilt.

JIMMY
Wow. It's like a scene out of Rob Roy. If Rob Roy were a geek and carried a cell phone.

George sits down next to him with a sigh.

JIMMY
Bad day on the battlefield?

GEORGE
Turns out it was a company takeover party and the new C.E.O. Is from Mexico, not Scotland.

JIMMY
Ay yay yay! In a tribute to his homeland, have a Corona.

GEORGE
Gracias. (NOTICING JIMMY) Bad day for you, too?

JIMMY
Depends on your definition of "bad day". Does being in debt and fighting with your wife count?

GEORGE
It's better than lots of money and no wife to fight with.

JIMMY
Most days I'd agree with you, bud. But today I just miss being...

He's struggling.

JIMMY
...Free.

There. He said it.

JIMMY
How about you, buddy. Ever think about cheating?

GEORGE
Every time I see Laura Croft.

JIMMY
With a real woman.

GEORGE
Are you kidding? Real women don't go for me. The first time I got Frankie in bed, I flipped her over to check for batteries. (THEN) How about you?

JIMMY
Sure, I think about it. But I wouldn't. My wife is way too smart.

GEORGE
What if you couldn't get caught? Like with our hot little nanny?

JIMMY
I have two words for you: Jude Law. (Then) I just wish my wife weren't so stressed out. She's acting crazy.

GEORGE
Frankie was nuts until the kids started school. Hillary will find her groove again soon.

JIMMY
I hope so. Because as nice as your legs are, I'd rather be drinking this beer with her.

A beat.

JIMMY
You know, even if I knew I would never get caught, I still wouldn't cheat. (THEN) And I thought my wife was crazy.

As they down some beer, cut to:

SCENE E

ACT ONE SCENE SEVEN - INT. OFFICE

Frankie is dealing with Mr. Edwards who can't sit still.

CRAZY EDDY
...I don't understand why it's taking so long to fill this job.

FRANKIE
Perhaps if you sat down, I could show you some resumes--

CRAZY EDDY
Sit, schmit. I lay around on mattresses all day. And if those mattresses could talk--

FRANKIE
They'd ask why you've turned down 3 of our best sales guys.
(pointing to one)
Jim McQuilan has five years of financial analysis.

CRAZY EDDY
But he doesn't have breasts.

FRANKIE
And you need breasts to get a sale?

CRAZY EDDY
I'm giving you a job, ain't I?
(then)
Look, I run a mattress business, and if there's one thing I know about sales, if my head of sales is going to sell mattresses, she has to look good on one.

An exhausted Jimmy enters.

CRAZY EDDY
Take this man over here. Is there nothing you like better than a good looking woman on a mattress?

JIMMY
I don't know. It's been so long, I wouldn't recognize one.

FRANKIE
With the way Crazy Eddie operates, I'm shocked he ever sees one either.

CRAZY EDDY
I like you. You're bold enough to call me on my crap. And smart enough to know that for the extra 10% I just raised you, you'll find me a head of sales with all the right attributes.

FRANKIE
As soon as I take off my bra and clean my oven, I'll get right on it.

She exits.

CRAZY EDDY
She's feisty. You and her ever...?

JIMMY
Nah. I'm a celibate fellow.

CRAZY EDDY
So you're married.
(then)
Look, come on down to my mattress warehouse. I'll hook you up in more ways than one.

JIMMY
With all due respect, Mr. Crazy Eddy, I'm a professional who is going to fill your job order, not some schlub who's going to pay astronomical prices for a mattress you claim can get me sex.

CUT TO:

SCENE F
ACT ONE, SCENE EIGHT - HOME

Ext. House - Jimmy, out of breath, puts a mattress up against the side of the front door and enters.

JIMMY ENTERS TO FIND HIS WIFE LOOKING AT THE PACK N PLAY.

HILLARY
Shhhh... the baby just went down.

He sits on the couch. On the teddy bear.

SFX bear: I got honey honey honey in my tummy tummy tummy YUMMMY!

HILLARY
Thanks a lot!

They are both now screaming over the toy and screaming baby.

JIMMY
I'M SORRY! HANG ON!

TAKING A BINKY FROM HIS POCKET, HE PUTS IT IN THE BABY'S MOUTH.

JIMMY
Well whatcha know about this?

CLOSE UP: BABY WITH BINKY THAT HAS FAKE BUCK TEETH ON IT.

HILLARY
Do I laugh, cry or call an orthodontist?

JIMMY
Smile, because I have a surprise for you. (BEAT) You're not smiling.

HILLARY
That's because surprises "for me/from you" all have cords, remotes or fish tank sized speakers.

JIMMY
That's not true.

HILLARY
Five words for you: Anniversary Car Seat Ass Warmers.

JIMMY
You're always calling me a pain in the butt. Didn't those help? (OFF HER SMILE) That's better. Now as shocking as this sounds, I've been listening to how exhausted you are. I spent almost a grand of savings, but it's something we both can share. Starting this Monday, you're getting--

HILLARY
--A vacation? You booked a vacation!?

JIMMY
(SHOCKED) I.. Uh...

HILLARY
Oh, honey... no dishes. No kids!

JIMMY
Wait... wait...

HILLARY
We can finally have sex again!

JIMMY
(NOW HE'S ON BOARD) Surprise!!!

She jumps in his arms and hugs him. When she walks away, she leaves milk stains on his blouse.

FADE OUT:

END OF ACT ONE

Macaroni Thrills/Scene 3

Rex and I went for our weekly date to the Macaroni Grill, which we've renamed Macaroni Thrills because A) We haven't laughed that hard in a while, B) We didn't have to make any of those curly noodles with orange powder C) The place looks like a theme park with the food the size of a Dora the Explorer's head and D) For a heavy fine, you, too, can leave without any dishes to do!

We met a few friends that Rex knew from his In & Out Burger Days and just hung out. We covered everything from mutual friends, to mutual funds, to house payments, to kids, to work, and to why women can site from memory their husband's exact food order at any major drive thru chain, but men can't figure out to bring home flowers once in a while (Yes, K, life isn't an episode of Friends, but Casa Di Mama P would feel a little less like Married With Children if we had a few suprise buds around here. And no, not those kind of buds, though that might solve the problem, too).

My point: We had so much fun that it was determined that a Vegas trip, though a huge daydream, is in order.

When was the last time any of you took a vacation? (Other than Cecelia, who just came back from Austraila. And Herb, who is still in New Zealand. And Texas Lizzy, who just went to Vegas and California. And Sister R, who spent Thanksgiving in Arizona. And Ali, who went to Sacramento for Xmas. And Mrs. V, who went to Portland a few months back, and Mama P Light, who spent some time with her mom holiday shopping in Vegas and... maybe it's just me who never travels?)

Here's the 4th Scene. Since I have heard no comments for about 2 weeks, but my hit meter (located at the bottom of the page) keeps getting steadily higher, I can only assume people are reading but hate it so much, they're scared to note it. Or there's nothing to say because it's just that brilliant. I am not hanging my hat on either and am going to just keep plugging along. So there.

SCENE C
INT. LIVING ROOM - AN HOUR LATER (JIMMY, HILLARY)

JIMMY ENTERS THE HOUSE AND HE'S SHOCKED TO SEE SOMETHING HE HASN'T SEEN IN MONTHS.

JIMMY
Is it my imagination, or do I not see rugrats?

HILLARY
Cloe has them. Instead of working I decided to sleep. And drink.

JIMMY
You should be ashamed of yourself. Drinking and sleeping in the afternoon... without me.

HILLARY
You've got a job, babe. Last time I checked, hanky panky didn't put a roof over our heads. In fact, it put two new heads under our roof.

JIMMY
Who are not here right now.

HILLARY
Which is why you need to stay sober and make a placement. It will make everything better.

JIMMY
No. Sex will make everything better.

HILLARY
So we can live in a tent?

JIMMY
If we're having sex in the tent, is that so bad?

HILLARY LAUGHS.

HILLARY
Oh, honey, you know I adore you. But I've had two kids poking and prodding me all day. I don't need to be poked and prodded by you, too.

JIMMY
I'd be insulted if I didn't want to poke and prod you so badly. (THEN) You know, Frankie and George do it three times a week.

HILLARY TURNS AROUND QUICKLY.

HILLARY
You've been talking to Frankie about our sex life?!

JIMMY WISHES HE COULD TAKE THAT LAST COMMENT BACK.

JIMMY
Technically, I talked about our non sex life.

SHE'S NOT AMUSED.

JIMMY
And it's not just about sex. I miss spending time with you. It seems every time we have one quiet moment you use it to sell on E-Buy.

HILLARY
It's important to me. It's my outlet.

JIMMY
I know. I just wish your outlet could make some money.

Whoops. He did it again.

HILLARY
Great. Now Frankie thinks I'm a lazy and sex less.

JIMMY
And soon to add "drunk".

HILLARY
And you wonder why I don't want to have sex with you.

JIMMY
I was kidding! (LOOKING IN HER EYES) Hellooooo... Hiiiilary!

HILLARY
What are you doing?

JIMMY
I'm looking for that sexy lady I married. You might remember her? Long flowing hair who did that wacky seventies move every time she'd bowl a strike. (HE DOES A FUNKY MOVE) The football freak who was so excited to get married she proposed to me during the Super Bowl. The one who was so thrilled to have a baby she threw herself a shower at six weeks?

HILLARY
(FEIGNING SHOCK) You didn't hear? Dumb broad got broadsided by a killer mortgage and no time to herself.

JIMMY
I know you need a break. I do, too.

HILLARY
You get that break. Every day. From 9 - 6.

JIMMY
It's called work. It's not a vacation. You think I don't want to stay at home, drink a beer and sleep?

HILLARY
Is that what you think I do all day?

JIMMY
No. You also find time to complain about not having time and then use the time you do have to pick a fight with your husband.

HILLARY
You forgot, "And to tell him to leave."

JIMMY
Fine, but not without one thing.

Hillary makes a lame attempt to purse her lips for a kiss.

Sidestepping her kiss, Jimmy grabs two beers and exits.

CUT TO:

The Terrible 3's

Anybody out there in Cyber Space find raising a 3 year old like raising a puppy?

- Sit there! Good boy!
- No peeing on the couch!
- No jumping on the bed!
- Thiiiiiiis way!
- No! No! No!
- Hey, no biting!
- Don't sniff that person's butt, it's rude
- If you're a good boy, you get a snack

And, like having a puppy, sometimes Mommies need to take a class - as in I will be taking one in February. I am going to refer to it as a T I T - Toddler in Training. I just hope they don't make me walk Stink around a circle with a choke chain.

Here's Scene 2 of WAC

SCENE B
INT. JIMMY AND HILLARY'S ROOM - THAT NIGHT (CLOE, HILLARY)
Hillary is working on her lap top when a young college girl, CLOE, enters. About twenty same size boxes surround her.

CLOE
Got some E-Buy packages going out?

HILLARY
I wish. The only thing I'm expressing today is right here.

She turns off the breast pump and starts fixing bottles.

CLOE
I'll take the kids and then you'll have some time to yourself.

HILLARY
Oooh goody. Should I start with the laundry? Perhaps the toilet? I think I saw my career there. And my size 2 jeans. Quick, grab a plunger!

CLOE
We'll need a long one. Your pedicure is lodged there, too.

HILLARY
When I hired you to be my nanny, I don't remember one of the qualifications being "smart ass".

CLOE
And I don't remember my dream accomodations being a storm cellar.

HILLARY
A storm cellar with cement siding and no windows. Now that's living.

CLOE
So is having a husband that worships you and two great kids.

HILLARY
I know. I know! I shouldn't whine.

CLOE
You're just pooped from doing too much.

HILLARY
When the kids sleep, Mommy works.

CLOE
I thought "When the kids sleep, Mommy sleeps."

HILLARY
That's only for moms with maids. And since my MBA now stands for Maid/Broke but Ambitious, I get to do it all!

Hillary slumps on the couch.

CLOE
Hey, I'd kill to be you some day.

CLOE
Of course, not until I finish college and get my practice going. I'm talking at least 15 years of freedom first.

HILLARY
I was flattered until that last sentence. Now I have to fire you.

CLOE
I'll cite post partum for my radical termination. Before I go, here's my parting gift.

HILLARY
A six pack of beer? This isn't going to cure my sleep deprivation.

CLOE
There's nothing a six pack can't cure.

HILLARY
You'll be the only psychologist I know with a keg in her office. Is it too early to book weekly appointments?

CLOE
If you don't get sleep soon, you better book some dailies.

As Cloe grabs the bottles, they smile at each other:
CUT TO:

The Male Man & Scene 1 WAC

As I was rushing to transfer my sleeping chillins from the SUV to the house, my mailman, Scott, ran up to me. He's a nice 32 year old guy that looks more like a cute bartender than a government worker. As it turns out, he used to be in the entertainment business, but once he got married and had kids, he had to get a stable gig. I usually donate my Writers' Guild scripts and DVDs to him, leaving them on the front porch for him to pick up during a route. On the rare our occasion our schedules collide, we chat in the driveway about movies, kids and how to balance life with dreams... all sorts of your average post man/house frau conversation.

Today he handed me his card and shook my hand, announcing that he'd been transferred back to Lancaster where he lives. He wanted to stay in touch so he could bounce WGA stuff off me, which is fine. While showing me photos of his family, he mentioned that his 4 year old daughter just landed a commercial agent and is going out on lots of auditions. He told me if ever I wanted to get my loud mouth baby girl on the Pampers Money train to give him a shout out in return for my script and writing generosity.

Who says housewives can't do business from their porch? With cute mailmen and Ebay, we can run the world!

Here's the next scene of my pilot.... And keep in mind... this is not meant to be a rocket science script. We're talking ABC midstream TV, okay? It's also a first draft. Not that it's not hiiiiiiilarious, because it is. Sometimes. Just shut up and read.

Also please note: Women Are Crazy is going to be shortened to WAC from now on. As in Mama P is WhACked for typing when she should be sleeping while her kids are sleeping.

And now, a final shout out to Papa John who attended Stink's school on Grandparent day. He loved it! "He" meaning Stink. Papa John? I'm not so sure, but he was a good sport. And I heard from a few moms in the lobby, while we were waiting for the big grandparent/kid dismissal "Oh, you brought Papa John? He made quite the impression during circle time."

Hmmmmm.

ACT ONE
SCENE A

FADE IN:
INT. GARAGE/OFFICE - DAY (DAY 2) (JIMMY, FRANKIE, GEORGE)

Jimmy stumbles into his garage - also the home office for his job placement business, MFA - "More Frequent Assignments". His female business partner, FRANKIE, is already fast at work, headphones on, typing on the computer, drinking coffee.

JIMMY
What are you so happy about?

FRANKIE
Just George. You know how frisky he gets after a night of online gaming.

JIMMY
I wish I didn't, but every Monday you tell me.

GEORGE, a handsome geek, crawls out from under a desk.

GEORGE
Not only am I the online conqueror of nations by night, but I am your server's master by day. Bow down!

FRANKIE
I'd do it if I were you. My husband just saved us thousands of dollars in computer repairs.

JIMMY
Which I'll be putting toward therapy if I ever bow to a man in a skirt.

GEORGE
It's a kilt. For our Scottish CEO's welcome lunch. There's a reason I keep ascending that corporate ladder.

JIMMY
As long as I'm not under it while you're climbing, good for you.

FRANKIE (turning to George)
Bye, babe. Don't be late tonite. Don't forget the milk. And stop by the cleaners... and the pet store.

GEORGE
Anything else, just call.

JIMMY
Or yank his leash.

And with a kiss to Frankie, George exits.

FRANKIE
He wears the skirt, I wear the pants.

JIMMY
And if I don't make a deal soon I'm gonna lose my shorts.

FRANKIE
Lucky for you, I just got us a contract with Eddy Edwards.

JIMMY
You landed Crazy Eddy? (Singing theme song) IF YOU GOT BAD CREDIT BUT YOU STILL GET PAID / DON'T YOU SWEAT IT OUR MATTRESSES WILL GET YOU… LOVIN' A GOOD NIGHT SLEEP.

FRANKIE
He's looking for a V.P. of Sales.

JIMMY
Nice, title. Nice title means nice salary. Nice salary means nice commission. Nice!

FRANKIE
I knew you'd be proud of me. I told him we knew a lot about mattresses because we both have two kids.

JIMMY
Well, in my case you should have said, "He also an expert on futons." I swear I haven't gotten lucky since my son was conceived four years ago.

FRANKIE
You have a one year old daughter.

JIMMY
Once in four years is not lucky. It's begging.

FRANKIE
Does it make you feel better that I'll never have as much sex as you did in college?

JIMMY
Since apparently I'm not going to either, the answer is no.

CUT TO:

Typo Found by Warbride

Frankie is a different character.. It should have said Hillary. The first scene of the show (The Cold Open) is just between Jimmy and his wife, Hillary.

Thanks, warbride!

Women Are Crazy - Cold Open

Okay, so I am done with the First Draft of my pilot, Women Are Crazy. I am going to put a scene a day up so you can read it without being stuck at your computers for a half hour at a time. For those non script readers out there, a typical script is 40 pages long, 10 scenes or so, 5 per act.

I hesitated to post this, for fear of plagery. Then again, I should be so lucky someone from my old biz (other than my agent) is out there trying to steal my work. I'll take the chance for some good feedback.

Hope you smile a bit. (I like it anyway, so nanny nanny nanny noo)

Drum Roll............

Women Are Crazy

A Pilot by Mama P

Cold Opening

A brass bed is covered in various articles of clothing: a veil, a bow tie, a blue garter belt. Hillary and Jimmy, an attractive couple in their early 30s, kiss madly.

JIMMY
I could make love to you forever.

HILLARY
Since you just married me, that's a good thing.

JIMMY
Was that what we did today? All I remember is downing three shots and dancing with a fat chick.

HILLARY
That was the mother/son dance. (THEN) And watch the fat jokes. What if I gained weight?

JIMMY
You mean going from a 36 B to a 36 C kind of weight?

HILLARY
I'm talking 38, 48, 38.
Jimmy takes a beat - confused.

HILLARY
I'm pregnant. Found out this morning. (OFF HIS LOOK) What. You wanted kids after we married.

JIMMY
Not five minutes after.

HILLARY
I guess we unofficially had a shot gun wedding.

JIMMY
(LOOKING UNDER COVERS) I say we celebrate with a 38 special.

Hillary rolls on top of him and kisses him. Pan out.

Pan in: 9 months later. Hillary sits on Jimmy's lap, 8 months prego.

HILLARY
Still want to make love to me forever?

JIMMY
(NOT BREATHING WELL) I do. And I think the end is near.

HILLARY
Oooh, do you need some oxygen? (Kissing him, then huge smile) Did I mention how much I love you?

She smiles at him.

PAN OUT.

PAN IN. Hillary is still smiling - at an adorable toddler.

HILLARY
(TO BABY) Did I mention how much I love you?

JIMMY
(A LA BABY) "Yes, Mommy. Now it's time that this bed had some action!"

He picks up the baby and slides it up and down Hillary's once again prego belly. Hillary laughs some more.

JIMMY
Remember those days when all we did was make love in this bed?

HILLARY
Yes. And we will again. Promise.

PAN OUT:

PAN IN: Jimmy and Hillary on one side of the bed. Nick, now 2, is doing an Evil Canival jump over their 6 month old daughter who screeches with laughter. Jimmy looks at Hillary.

JIMMY
Babe, I have to get up early tomorrow.

HILLARY
(VERY PISSY) Then go to sleep!
PAN IN: On a very defeated Jimmy.

PAN OUT: On a still defeated Jimmy. He is alone, on the couch, covered in a baby quilt. He picks up a teddy bear.

JIMMY
Will I ever sleep with my wife again?

He pulls the teddy bear's string.

TEDDY BEAR
Not a chance in hell, Suckaa!

Off Jimmy's surprised look:

FADE OUT:

Bipolar

Today can best be described as a series of ups and downs.

Down: I had about as much sleep last night as a solider guarding the queen thanks to Squeak's teething issues.

Up: I managed to organize most of the kids' Xmas and birthday treasure trove (Squeak's goes under her bed, Stink's near his door)

Down: We had to leave a Moms group early due to Stink's grabby behavior and Pip's screaming.

Up: Stella came by this afternoon with her typical assortment of pasta boxes, left over hangers, odds and ends of sauces, magazines and sweaters. She also brought her usual load of upbeat conversation, including some stories about some Japanese cousins the kids have thanks to someone named San San who married Stella's husband Gerado's sister's grandson's wife. It's all more exciting when she tells it, especially over a martini (Which she did not have today. In fact, she rushed off at 3, under the pretense of missing traffic. Personally, I would bet my son's preschool tuition that it was to be home for that 4:00 martini).

Down: Stink is not in the most agreeable post nap mood.

Up: I got some Ebay done while he hemmed and hawed over a cut-off Scooby Doo.

Down: Squeak dismantled my entire desk while I staked my Ebay claim.

Up: Rex will be home in an hour.

Down: It's now 4:00. What to do with the remaining hour? Go for a walk? Be a soccer monster? Teach Stink Farse?

Stay tuned.

Pilots Are Sexy...

As in television pilots. As in I sent mine off to ye ol agent today via Priority.
Perhaps its the New Year. Perhaps its the moon. Or, as is my guess with everything, perhaps it's the Zoloft. I don't know, but since 2006 began, I have not only managed to keep to my writing schedule, but I have actually managed to consume less calories than an Army platoon. Of course, I still can't find my keys and exercize is an illusive mystery, but let's go with baby steps, shall we? There's plenty of time for personal trainers and drivers when I make my script millions.

How's your New Year's resolutions going? (And no wise crack remarks from Cecelia or Slim.)

Here's a random joke Rex sent me which made me smile. All you good Catholic's will especially chuckle.

SIPPING VODKA

A new priest at his first mass was so nervous he could hardly speak. After mass he asked the monsignor how he had done. The monsignor replied, "When I am worried about getting nervous on the pulpit, I put a glass of vodka next to the water glass. If I start to get >nervous, I take a sip." So next Sunday he took the monsignor's advice. At the beginning of the sermon, he got nervous and took a drink. He proceeded to talk up a storm. Upon his return to his office after the mass, he found the following note on the door:

1.. Sip the vodka, don't gulp.
2.. There are 10 commandments, not 12.
3.. There are 12 disciples! , not 10.
4.. Jesus was consecrated, not constipated.
5.. Jacob wagered his donkey, he did not bet his ass.
6.. We do not refer to Jesus Christ as the late J. C
7.. The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are not referred to as Daddy, Junior and the spook.
8.. David slew Goliath; he did not kick the shit out of him.
9.. When David was hit by a rock and was knocked off his donkey, don't say he was stoned off his ass.
10.. We do not refer to the cross as the "Big T."
11.. When Jesus broke the bread at the last supper he said, "Take this and eat it for it is my body." He did not say "Eat me".
12.. The Virgin Mary is not called "Mary with the Cherry".
13.. The recommended grace before a meal is not: Rub-A-Dub-Dub thanks for the grub, Yeah God.
14.. Next Sunday there will be a taffy pulling contest at St. Peter's not a peter pulling contest at St. Taffy's.

Leakage

Mrs. V brings up an excellent point re: leakage. It's not pretty. It's not sexy. But the fact is, moms (especially after two kids) have a hard time laughing, sneezing and jumping without raining on the parade float. Will it happen to you? Depends. (Pun intended).

Here's some other equally glamorous facts that people don't tell you about motherhood:

- Just when you're at the final pushing stage, your husband waiting for your offspring with open arms, you will poop on the birthing table. Just go with it. Personally, the Texas Longhorns could have walked in and I would have cared less
- For some moms, breastfeeding is about as easy as cracking the DaVinci code. Regardless of those signs stating "Babies are born to be breastfed" it doesn't work for everyone. If it does, good for you
- Attachment parenting is great on paper. Then you have a one year old that can't eat a cracker without being permanently lodged to your nipple
- Kids are their own person. Enjoy dressing them while you can, because when they hit 2, they are going to wear their shoes backwards, boys will want to wear Dora underwear, girls will want to wear Xmas sweaters inside out to Easter parties, and they will lose their shoes on the way to preschool
- No matter how unique you think your child's name is, you will find some kid at a mall play area with the same one.
- If you want a girl, you will probably have a boy, and vice versa
- Just when your child is dressed for pictures, they will poop, urinate or vomit
- No matter how much you exercize, you will mysteriously gain little side rolls. The negative, you can't wear muffin top jeans. The positive: extra cushion for your rugrat and no side carrier necessary. And just when you finally believe you're doing the best you can and this is what you will look like forever, you will run into some mom who lost all her baby week just 2 hours after giving birth
- You can pay 1000 dollars for your Baby Bugaboo stroller, but the kid still isn't going to want to sit in it
- Your husband isn't going to find your reasons for time off as necessary as his. Make a understanding with him and move on
- If you compare yourself to other parents and what they have, you will ultimately be disappointed. Especially given that they are probably doing the same thing
- No matter how open you are to others, people will make nasty comments. For some reason, there is always that mom in the playgroup that has elevated herself to "baby expert". Let her blend her own baby food and be glad to have her wisdom
- Friendships are torn apart more than bonded when kids are born, since every mom thinks their angel is the most precious on the planet. I strive to not let this happen and hope it doesn't happen to you
- Family and friends aren't as accessible as you once thought they might be due to busy lives. Join a support group and adjust. Everyone does the best they can
- You will forget birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, and being 30 minutes late counts as being on time
- Babies can tear apart marriages or bring you closer - it all depends on how you want to look at it
- Treating your baby like an adult is only going to insure that they go from crib bars to real bars. Structure is the best way to make them safe
- You will change your mind ten times on how to handle something and that's okay
- People will give you their opinion whether you want it or not. Sometimes they might be right, which is super irritating
- There's a million ways to parent, and yes, you are the best parent on the planet with the most precocious, smart kids that ever roamed the earth. She can stand up and smile at the same time? Wow!!! But guess what, no one else thinks she's as cute and smart as their kid. It's okay

And finally.........

- Just when you think your baby will never sleep through the night, they've turned 3 and learned how to work the remote control.

It's a fun ride. Even if you leak a bit on on the front seat.

Squeaky Sunshine

I talk an awful lot about Stinker. He's at that age where he can tell me stories about "ghosts that ate his macaroni" and how he "doesn't want the blood to fall out of his body". His verbal skills make him easy fodder for blogging.

However, let me just state that my little Pipsqueak is really coming into her name sake. She is a fireball of energy who greets me each morning with a tilt of her head and quick turn back, shrieking "no kisses! no kisses!" She can name all parts of your body (including "eyeball! eyeball!" which she'll thrust her pointer into... thank the Lord I wear glasss). She repeats all that she hears and never stops moving. She is all girl with her love for shoes, purses and dolls. But she's also Miss Rough and Tumble USA who is fearless. No jumper, vacuum cleaner, ball or mud pile is safe when Miss Pip comes lurking. With her dimples and and quick laughter, she's a true joy to hang out with. Even her tendency to hang on me with unwavering attention (which used to bug me to no end) is now just another endearing Pipsqueak quality. I even taught her to say "I'm a pain!" (pronounced "EmmaPen") which she follows up with an air kiss. Little brat.

She's so going to kick Stink's ass.

(Pictured: Sophie swinging, about 4 months ago post bad mommy buzz. I still say she rocked the haircut, but my husband begs to differ)

Jumping for Fun

Thanks to my girlfriends, husband, mother and Little Debi (my box car cakes, thank you very much), Stink's 3rd Birthday Thomas extravaganza went off without a hitch. Well, if there was a hitch, I was too busy running around like a crazed mom to notice (as evidenced by this photo, thank you Rex. If there was a caption over Stink's head it would read "Yes, Mommy, I know you are trying to encourage me. Now back off before your eyes pop out of their sockets and land on my cabooses you freak").

Random things to note about throwing a birthday party (well, they worked for me... take it or leave it)

- If you invite your kids' whole class, they just might show, so be ready to cook 80 quesadillas (any moms of class mates, if you are reading... you are the best group of girls I could have ever asked for to go through toilet training, party circuits and general toddler mayhem... thank you!)
- Spend the extra money and get alcohol for the parents - they deserve it (especially the few dads that showed up... cheers to them!)
- Every time a party guest asks for one of your kids' presents, divert them with a bright colored party bag. This tactic also works for husbands, only insert "computer game" over the words "party bag"
- For $72.00 and a good sports bra, you too can have this incredible bouncer pictured above. Just Jump for Fun Fun at 1-800 -281-6792 before your boy turns 13 and he's dialing 976 Jump for Fun.)
- There is such thing as too many presents. I have seen less gifts on a Toys R Us commercial (But thank you to all my friends and family... I joke about gift overload, but these are going to come in so handy on rainy days when I pull out a new set of play dough, truck, maid gift certificate... wait, that last one was my fantasy gift. Nevermind.)
- For all the work I put into this party, I'm still glad I kept it simple. The homemade quesadillas really only took me 30 minutes, the bouncer took 10 minutes to order, and I didn't go crazy baking homemade train cakes. Creative I am, Martha Stewart I ain't, but I think it all came together. (That or I drank too many of the beers Mrs. V. kindly brought over.) Whatever the case (and I'm not talking beer) there comes a point where we moms need to plan, make lists, then move on. I did that and actually had fun.

In closing, today Stink went to his cousin's Princess Party where, yes, there was more cake, presents, games, and a jumper! Since it only takes a few days for toddlers to create a habit, is it any surprise that Stinker announced that "tomorrow I have my Scooby Doo party". When I asked him to go use the bathroom one more time, he said he'd do it for a present. Thank God my little Pipsqueak still thinks that going to the supermarket is a fiesta. I give her two more weeks.

Bounce

No sooner do I put away holiday decorations do I find myself knee deep in 3 year old party planning. The goal was to keep it simple - some cake, a jumper, some easy food. But when you're trying to entertain 20 toddlers and feed their parents something other than pizza, things ultimately get a bit more complicated. Between ordering the bouncer, buying paper goods, dropping more than a few ducets at Costco, trying to sanitize the house with two rug rats chasing the vacuum cleaner and finishing my pilot, I've had stuff on my mind.

The question of "tacos" vs. "quesadillasa" was running through my head at exactly 2:45 this Friday as I made a left turn into the post office to mail my script. I had fifteen minutes before I had to get the kids from Grandmas (who was kind enough to loan me 2 of her folding tables and one patio set. Well, she didn't loan me the patio set... I just took it. The blessings of both an SUV and a comfort level with your mommy). Apparently I cut some guy off and took his parking space. After being flipped off and yelled something, which I could only assume wasn't "Love your hair!" I braced myself for the inevitable parking lot brawl as he stepped out of his car toward me. It went something like this.

Man: You took my space!

Me: I'm sorry, I didn't mea--

Man: You just whipped right in and nabbed it. What the fxxx?

Me: Look, I --

Man: Watch the way you drive you bxxx.

Me: (Okay, I was fine up until that compliment) Do I look like I meant to do it? I had a lot on my mind and...

Man: I don't give a flying fxxx--

This is where it gets ugly. If it were the Old West, both of us would have been dead. Pistols on the ground. Priority packages stained with blood.

Our words clashed over each other like fists in a wrestling fight. And not a title fight, like in Vegas. A stupid WWF fight. It was Mama P Make My Day vs. Bad Business Suit Mad at Ex Wife Toyota Camry Driver.

Me: What is wrong with you? Why are you so angry?

Man: Just learn how to fxxxin drive--

Me: Get yourself some Prozac, asshxxxx--

Man: Don't tell me what to do you b---

Me: You need some serious anger management courses.

Man: Shut the fxxx up--

Me: No, YOU SHUT UP YOU PRICK! What if I had cancer? What if I had just lost my mother? What if I went to Baja Fresh and they didn't carry Diet Coke and I was driving around crying into my Diet Pepsi? It was an accident! Jesus!!!!!! (Everything I shouted is practically verbatim, minus the Diet Coke line. But you get the idea)

The entire parking lot is now looking at this middle aged man in a suit cursing out the mother in the pony tail and Jackie O Glasses.

And then he started to walk away, but not without screaming

Man: Fxxx off!

Me: No, you fxx off you fxxin axxxhole!

Lots of fucks flying. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

I try not to lose my cool. I really do. But damnit, sometimes it pisses me off that here I am trying to raise healthy kids, keep a level of spirituality going in this nutty world, exercize for my health, exercize for my mind, be a good citizen. And then I run into people like this.

The most interesting part of this experience was how, despite obscenities flying (and the potential of getting punched out or shot - this is L.A.) I remained fairly calm. My heart was beating, but I wasn't freaking out. Maybe it was the Zoloft, but I'd like to contribute my grace under fire to starting to know who I am. And yes, I might have said "Fuck" (sorry mom) but it was done with dignity. It's not okay to yell at me. It's not okay to assume. I will stand up for myself and feel good about it.

The theme of the week must be bounce because:

- We had to bounce back from Xmas right into the Thomas the Train Party
- I have had to let more than a few insults bounce off my back
- I've done more laundry than a Chinese Drycleaner and used the wonderfully smelling Bounce sheets
- I bought Bounce paper towels for my many upcoming party spills
- I rented a bouncer
...and if I keep on running into obnoxious Valley dwellers and don't start shutting my mouth, I'm going to need a Bouncer.

PEOPLE - BE NICE TO EACH OTHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DON'T MAKE ME GIVE YOU A TIME OUT, BECAUSE I WILL!

Chuckle Cheese

Had my first experience at Chuck E. Cheese today, thanks to Texas Lizzy and Toddler J. My first note: It's such a typical mother to travel half way across the country and still have energy to find a chain restaurant to accomdate her kid. As for my kids, they loved it. Minus a small injury incurred from Pipsqueak heaving herself off of a merry go round (landing on her nose and causing some blood), all went off without a hitch. My second note: if a rat in a zoot suit can make this much money, I have no excuse not to sell my pilot. That leads me to my third note: gotta go and do my one hour of writing. But not without my fourth note, because I'm a rambler and a mother - this combination always leaves room for "One More Thing Before You Go" (as Maria Shriver's latest book is entitled)... HOOK EM HORNS! Or as it will most likely be in Texas Lizzy's household tonite, hook 'em horny.

Congrats to her husband and all you UT fans out there. I personally could give a rat's ass who won the game. But like I said before, given there's a huge money making rat's ass in every city of this country making a fortune, I gotta go write myself up a huge helping of pilot cheese so that in regards to my TV career I'm not "standing alone".

It's Beginning To Look Less Like Xmas...

"....And Mom and Dad can hardly wait for school to start again..." No truer Xmas song was ever written. Stink went back to preschool today, I regained my sanity (as well as one key made and a car wash) and there is peace on earth.

I had such a wonderful time this year. So many people love my kids. So many people came by. I baked so many fabulous cookies. And now, that damn tree is going out by the curb, people can go back to their own places and I can detox the fridge.

Never have I been so happy for boring normalcy.

Any of you out there have New Year's goals that you plan on breaking next week? I certainly do. And being the over achiever, I hope not to break them. Being half Catholic, half Jewish, I can also flog myself with guilt when I inevitable falter.

Here's my top 10 goals for any of you who care to read them:

1. Be working part time by September in one of 3 capacities (A being the most desired). A: Freelance TV. (Okay, so I am the lamest person on the planet. My pilot is done. I just need to finish one more punch and mail it off. Yes, it's a month over due. I suck so much I can't stand it, but that leads me to my #2 goal below. But first, here's Plan B) Freelance write for magazines. Thank you, Mama P Light, who steered me in that direction. I have the tools. I just need to get those letters out. Which leads me to #3, but finally, plan C: Work part time as an assistant, God help me, in a company I love where I can eventually go full time when the kids are in school, or break in creatively. I suppose Plan D could be to Writers Assist on a show again, but those hours are nuts.

2. Stop badgering myself. I can only do so much as one mama, wife, daughter, friend and so on.

3. Stick to my Monday/Tuesday and Thursday one hour writing deal at night after the kids sleep... (And not blog writing, though I love you all.) I need to focus on my script writing. That's my first love, and as my agent can tell you, it's been on the back burner too long.

4. Get a great office set up for myself. So it's not my dream office, but I'll get that when my script sells (note to self: send script to BridethatWas this week). Meanwhile, I want my black shelves and bulletin board for appointments and nice calendar and fresh paint job. I can do that!

5. Stop obsessing over the little things in the house and get out more, even if it's just to a museum, or a new park, or the zoo. I refuse to turn into Suzy Baseboard Obsessor. Move on. (Though I would kill the pope to have Nate Berkus suprise me with a shelving makeover and one year supply of towels from Linens and Things. Note to self: Write to Nate Berkus)

6. Watch the news for five minutes a day. Or online. It's time to be more aware. If anyone out there knows of a fun news blog, that would work. I find humor makes even the most boring stock report go down more easily. Or at least a bag of Twin Dragon Almond Cookies. And since dieting is not one of my top 10 goals (since I seem to have an eating plan that is already working for me) I can eat whatever during the news. As long as it's in the morning or before 2.

7. Finish my bedroom. I have a scrap book center (translation: my photos in old boxes gathering dust). While I might not ever be part of a crafty clutch, I certainly want my photos and videos in pretty albums or boxes where I can find them more easily. I want my walls covered in beautiful frames of my girlfriends, family and kids. I spend so much time taking pictures and making memories, but then I can't look around and see the fruits of my labor. Also, this center is my space where the kids can't get their paws on it.

8. Learn Civilazation IV for Rex. I hate it so much right now. I don't know a "wonder" from a "culture bar". But he friggin loves it. And more than once he has thanked me for trying to learn. I figure the more I understand it, the more I will get inside his techno brain. Which makes him appreciate me more. Which makes him more open to things I love, like dancing, music and theatre.

9. Laugh every day with my kids and everyone around me. I could die tomorrow, so life's too short to be crazy. If I ever get cancer (God forbid) I'm getting a blue Marge Simpson wig that sits high on my head with a teeshirt that says "I have cancer, what's your excuse?"

10. Not pay so much attention to what I think others think, but try to beat my own drum and wear headphones. I can't please the world, nor is anyone asking me to. It's time to put on my big girl panties and face reality.

Well, that was longer than I expected, but it's done. I am now going to print these and hang them on my bulletin board in my office. I mean, if I had paper in my printer and a bulletin board, I would do that.

See what I mean? Time to get an office!

Please, share your thoughts with me on your goals, or lack of!

(* Pictured: Stink, Pip and me admist floor rip out, Phase 3. I am sad to say, I look every bit of my almost 36 years. Not that 36 is so old, but it's closer to 40 than 30. And I just can't believe how fast the years fly by. Even more reason to stick to my goals and have a blast. Or maybe a blast by a Microabrasion specialist. Whatever.)

Mall Madness

A combination of hyper children, need for socialization and torrential downpours led me to mall today. Not the mall near my house, where it's usually me and a thousand people speaking Spanish and old abuelas sharing their Vallarta Cheesey Puffs. It was at the mall near my mother. The pretty one, where the nanny / child percentage tops most peoples' credit card APR. Where there's a fancy children's boutique outside the play area, beckoning you to spend money you don't have on overpriced baby blankets that your child is just going to vomit on. The one with the fancy furniture stores where I can feel guilty for having mismatched desks in my office when for $6000 Rex and I can have complimenting mission style ensembles. But let's face it, it's our mission style ways that led us to our two children, which led us to eating cheap Mission burritos on Taco Tuesdays, which made us spend less on our style in the first place, so the hell with that furniture. I'll get my Pottery Barn office... it's just going to be in bits and pieces. Like most of my dishes - thanks to my children. Which just validates me even more for not spending 6 grand on an office set.

My point? Lots of DKNY babies, Calvin Klein mommies, screenwriting Daddy O's on lap tops and Petunia Picklebottom toting nannies casing the joint. Enter a rain dripped Sophie, Dominic in mismatched socks, and a hunkering Mama P in her pony tailed finest.

Quick side note: To give myself credit, I have a Petunia Picklebottom diaper bag also. My mommy friend, L, has one also. (L is fabulous... I joke that she's just like me, only 100 pounds thinner... From now on, I will refer to her as Mama P Light) I didn't spend the money on these threads to have the label - I just love the bag, and I'm worth it. So is L. And maybe most of these moms are boring sheep like me who all like the funky but oh so exclusive line of Chinese silk baby bags. Good for them. Good for me. I'm not here to make a judgement call on our individual tastes, or lack of. Why be critical when it's so much more fun making up stories about them in my head? ("Oooh, that mom could be snarling because she really isn't as rich as she looks, but instead gets her clothes by shop lifting because she's pissed at her abusive Arab and she's biding time before she leaves him for the pool cleaner"... You know, those normal kind of thoughts).

I try so hard to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Especially moms, because I know what it's like to have great kids go loco on you, or unexpected illnesses, or just plain rotten days when even the dog talks back at you. I know.

Which is why I was so upset when this woman turned to me near the slide and said, "Your son had an accident. You need to to change him."

It's true. Scooby Doo had sprouted a leak. I had just noticed it myself and was planning on leaving seconds before she accosted me, which is why I told her as uninterested as possible,"I don't care. It's just pee. I'll get to it when I can."

Which is when I turned back to my mother, who had arrived moments earlier, and watched as she took this mechanical grinch out of a giant Xmas bag and pressed to button, causing it to gyrate in green glory.

So there I was... the tacky mother who had a mismatched child with pee on him, Sophie with a birds' nest hair do, and my mother making a green Xmas monster do the Margarena.

Eventually I turned around and left, but not without turning to Miss Nosy Mommy and saying "You know what, I know my son is wet, but mind your own business." At which she said "It's my business to keep the play area safe for other kids who don't need your kids' pee on the slide".

Which, she was right, but fxxx her. At which my mother, Grinch in toe, said to her "Watch it!" and took off.

I hate judgemental mothers. And I love my mother.

And any mother out there reading this... if you see a mom with bad hair and a wet kid, let's trust that she knows he needs a clothing change. If you can't be nice, don't say anything at all. Or at least ask what size cappucino she wants.

Happy Birthday 3 Year Old

It's hard to believe that 3 years ago New Year's Eve I left my own party to go give birth. Stink was a month early, but he clearly didn't want to miss the celebration. I thought I'd be freaked out about labor, but my water breaking came as such a surprise, I didn't have time to panic. Before I even settled into the hospital bed I had an epidural and fell asleep. Eight hours later it was time to push, and minus one hour of discomfort when they turned my drip off, I had a text book delivery.

Rex and I didn't know what we were having, and I can still picture my mother and Rex's mom at the delivery room door screaming "What is it! What is it!" and Rex yelling back "We don't know! It's not all the way out yet!" And then I felt something like a slippery fish fall out of me and the doctor said, "It's a boy!" And they put him on me. I could smell his newness. He was crying like a little sheep. And as I held him close I couldn't help but think with terror, "Oh my god, he looks like Cartman from Southpark."

His looks really were an enigma. Where did that big circle headed boy come from? Why was he blonde? What was with the blue eyes? These attributes only made me love Stink even more. He was his own person from day 1. I realized then and there that God doesn't give us kids as accessories. They are full packages with their own agendas. I remember waking up in the middle of the night and making the trip into the NICU. I remember the exhilartion of picking him up and kissing him for the first time, thinking "I can't believe I did this. He's mine." I had never felt so intoxicated with happiness in my entire life.

I know some of you moms out there didn't bond with your kids right away. I understand that, as it took me a bit longer with Pipsqueak, who I now adore with every fiber of my being. But with Stinker, it was as if the world st0pped. I couldn't stop eating and calling everyone I knew and snapping photos. This kid was mine, and from the moment I saw him, my heart burst in two and I knew I'd never be the same again.

I totally get why people want more and more kids. They want to relive that first experience just one more time. How cliche, but how true, it is that they go from little babies who coo at your every look to potty trained toddlers who love all things Dora, Scooby Doo, Diego, and of course, trains. Stinker is Mr. Personality, half angel, half devil. With his big eyes and blonde curls, I fall in love with him more every day.

Big sarcastic me wants to say something witty, but I'm too busy crying right now.

I love you Stinky Malone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(* Pictured: Nick in the NICU, or as we dubbed it, the NICK U... Me post epidural - you can see the needle in the photo. Despite its length, I highly recommend it! And of course, my three year old, last week on Xmas eve at Stella's.)

Angels in the Toilet

Mid linoleum knock out, phase II, the guest bathroom started flooding. We couldn't figure it out. I opened the shower to find soap bubbling everywhere, presumably from the 10th load of laundry I did today. All eyes turned to our precocious toddler. Papa: "Nick, did you put anything in the toilet?" Nick: "Nooooo!" Mama: "Niiiiick. No one is going to be mad at you. Now tell us, did you put anything in the toilet?" Nick: "An angel!" Papa: "A what?" Nick: "A Christmas angel!"

See what I mean about 1 step forward (putting decorations away) 10 steps back (the tile project put on hold while James pumps up water and I mop the floor)

The positive news: James was able to plunge the main line and, unlike my cyberfriend Toni's train in the toilet story, we were spared a $300.00 plumber.

I guess this toilet angel's cloud had a silver lining. (Though I wish I could say the same for Lizzy's luck getting tickets... Thanks to everyone for your smart ass comments...)

Rosebowl Tickets Anyone?

Texas Lizzy is in town and looking to buy Rosebowl Tickets. If anyone out there has some, please email me. She's willing to pay up to 500 bucks/ticket. Thanks!

Parking It

Had a nice few days off with James. We started some house improvements, most significantly, our kitchen floor. After going back and forth on tile, linoleum, pergo, do it ourselves or have it contracted, the big decision was made last night when James took a big shovel and ripped it to shreads in less than an hour. Turns out there were four layers of floor underneath. Like my plan to organize my freelance career, I was reminded that there are many levels to get through to find my place in the world, but if I can stick it out through the yuck and goo, I will eventually have a beautiful floor to write on. As I made dinner admist the chopping, we laughed at our chaotic life. Nick was watching Dora, Sophie was throwing blocks, and friends were due over for a walk at any time. During the madness, we decided that I would repaint the kitchen once the baseboards were ripped out and James would lay the tile. Lucky for us, we already found a pattern we agree on (a beautiful brown square and cream that will be set in a diner checkerboard pattern). Now it's just a matter of calling up the tile guy and ordering - in this case, that would be Zarko the Great. No joke, his business card says "Zarko the Great". After attempting to get four estimates from various contractors, who all canceled or just didn't show, I will give Zarko the Great much kudos for his followthrough and earned namesake. He's a big Greek guy with five kids who not only is going to show James how to lay the floor, but tossles the rug rats hair and calls them Sir and Madam. Sold.

Side note: At the park the other day, a little girl was singing "Happy Birthday" to her sand cake. She had sticks for candles. I was thinking how sweet it is that techology hasn't ruined creativity. This all changed when she got to the end. "Happy Birthday to Elda, Happy Birthday to you..." "And dinosaurs... on 64... And a big fat lady... on channel 80"... Wow. You can't stop the power of cable.

Saint Nick

James started his first day of work today, which marks the official end of our holiday celebration. An hour into his day, he received this email from me:

"In the past hour I have caught Nick:

- Pants down on the couch, peeing on Sophie
- Pants on, riding her like a bull on the linoleum
- Spitting apple juice in her hair

On his way to his room, he asked for a lollipop.

I am beyond pissed."

Glad to be back to the post Christmas normalcy.

In liue of songs, as I'm about to collapse from cooking, cleaning, wrapping and general Xmas preparation-ness (is that a word?) I'd like to wish everyone a safe and happy Xmas. I'm about to spend it at Stella's mobile home. I am sure to have loads of stories, so I expect some from you.

I wish everyone joy, love, peace, happiness, and of course, a maid.

And though I know I joke about being a waffling Catholic, I'm actually going to say it: God bless you. We all have so much to be grateful for. And if you don't think you do, then stop being so self defeating and do something about it: write a book, read a book, join a group, join a gym, join AA, start drinking, buy a house, sell a house, rent your house, rent a houseboat, take a class.

Or just at home and feel sorry for yourselves. But come on people, it's a new year. Who the hell knows why we're all here, but I have to think it's to be good to everyone and make our mark the best way we can.

Okay, I was supposed to stop at God bless you. Too bad.

Jingle Smells, Jingle Smells

This holiday season, my son has discovered the joys of farting. I was talking to Texas Lizzy, and apparently this is nothing new in the toddler arena. In her household (a beautiful ranch erected just to irritate overpriced LA box dwellers like me) farting is known as 'tooting' and consistently causes Toddler J to erupt in giggles.

Last night, after Nick could not stop cracking up (pun intended) at his "smelly butt noises" we had the official talk.

Me: Can we fart loudly at home?

Nick: Yeeessssss.

Me: What about at school?

Nick: Yeeeeeeeees.

Me: Nooooooooooo. We save our farts for home only.

Nick: Ooooh, Mama lets me fart from my butt?

Me: Yes. That's it.

Nick: Papa lets me fart from my butt, too.

Me: That's right. Papa can be very juvenile, and nothing makes him laugh harder than a good ripper.

Nick: Yes, a ripper! I can rip for Papa! And Mama! But not for church. Jesus doesn't like farts.

Me: That's right. No farting for Jesus.

Nick: It's Jesus birthday at Xmas!

Me: Yes! Very good! It's his birthday. (I am thrilled for the spiritual segway)

Nick: Even though it's Jesus birthday, I get the gifts.

Me: That's right. Jesus is a good man. He shares.

Silence, then....

Nick: I like Jesus. He shares his presents. And after I open them, I can fart. Cause I open them at home and I can fart at home!

I give up.

On that note, let's sing along to Jingle Bells, shall we?

Chorus

Jingle smells
Jingle smells
Nick's discovered farts
For loads of fun just pull his thumb
And warm his little heart (Tooot!)

Jingle smells
Jingle smells
Toddlers love the noise
Forget tv and coloring
It's farts for girls and boys

Bridge

Last night after our prayers
When everything was calm
I thought at first he made
A tiny little yawn

But then I heard a laugh
And something like a bell
It turned out to be gas gas gas
And how he loved the smell, Oh!

Chorus

Jingle smell
Jingle smell
Stinkies all the way
Yes this song is juvenile
My son likes it that way (Hey!)

Big Finish

Jingle Smell
Jingle Smell
Tooting all the way
Let's hope Santa brings our son
Some Beano on his sleigh

Come On, Gimme Some Credit

Inspired by my last rendition of Rudolph, I will be rewording one Christmas song per day to get me through the holiday madness. Think of them like Mama P's little Advent calendar - emphasis on the vent. Call me Weird Al Yank a Bitch... As in I could have yanked this bitch right off the register at Old Navy today and thrown her straight into their signature car and pushed it into the LA river.

After buying 215.00 worth of Old Navy clothes last week, including a fateful sweater set and pants for Nick, it turns out that after one wash the 2T cable knit, like my career, came unraveled at the seams. Then Nick's grey sweats developed a hole in the crotch. I haven't seen this much material openings in inappropriate places since Chrisitina Aguilera's last video. And since these threads aren't making me millions, I figured I would return them.

Okay, I admit, I had no receipt. But lucky Patron Saint of Shopping... the cashier said she could credit the card I bought them on. Perfect! Nick and Sophie were in the car with Grandma, I hadn't waited in line... what a lovely ending to a day of errands with the munchins. Insert game show buzzer: IRRRRRRNNNN! After telling me I would be credited 107.00, they said the register wouldn't validate the card because it says I didn't use it at that store. Bull! I don't ever use my credit cards, so I knew for a fact this was the only one (my Atm card got sat on one too many times, so I was using credit simply as a means of funding until the new one arrived.)

After holding up the line and enduring one too many incriminating looks by other shoppers (and I can't blame them... this was taking waay too long) I finally agreed to take a store credit, but not without telling the manager (a pretty Asian version of Madonna resplete with punk hair, headset and attitude) that "I'll take it your store credit, but your store sells crap. You hear me, Old Navy crap crap crap! Your commercials make everyone feel bad for not looking like a robot and your clothes are, let me remind you again, CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!"

I got home and immediately checked my MBNA statement. Guess what? 215.00 cleared well over a week ago. On my MBNA. The same card that never was used at Old Navy. Hmmm.

I am so angry.

But my mom made a good point. She said cancel the transaction with MBNA so they don't pay Old Navy. Hmmmm. What if I got my 107.00 credit in the mail still? Then everything would be paid for! But that's not very Christian, is it. But technically, I'm a waffling Catholic, so maybe until I get my Vatican papers, it's okay. Or perhaps I will just go to confession and pay off a saint?

Who knows. Let's all turn to happier thoughts, like verse.

Everyone! Sing along to "Santa Clause is Coming to Town"!

Chorus

Mama P's making a list
She's checking it twice
And now her warm heart is turning to ice
(Cause) Oooool Navy Suuuucks... cow balls

The sweatpants had rips
The sweaters were crap
And the 12 long jeans sent too much air in her crack
(Yep) Ooooold Navy Suucks... cow balls

Bridge

She's sick of all their dumb ads
Of anorexic freaks
Who look great in their lame clothing
But they're way too scared to eat, SO!

Final Chorus

You better watch out
Go ahead - cry
Mama P's looking you straight in the eye
Ooooold Naaavy Sucks... Cowballs

Rudolf the Zoloft Reindeer

Okay, everybody, sing along to the "Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer" theme music.





Cue horns...

Mama P the Dead Beat Blogger
Thought that she could do it all
But all of that changed last Sunday
When she finally hit the mall

She couldn't find no parking
And when she finally did
The lines forming round Old Navy
Left reindeer tears on her lids

Bridge

Then she got back to her house
With Xmas cards left to write
Both kids puked over the couch
And she and James had a fight - HEY!

Big Finish

Now there's four days til Xmas
With shopping and gifts to wrap
And if she sees dear old Santa
Mama P is gonna kick his asssssssssssssssssssssssssss!

* Pictured: Nick being particularly helpful by dumping a bottle of baby powder all over my already vomit stained cushions "To clean up the pee pee!" he informed me.

Lucky #7

Okay, so this little ditty was taken from Toni's blog. I thought I'd throw it out there in case any of you want to add your two cents. (And thank you to WGA L, Mrs. V and a few more who posted! You're alive!)

Okay, here they are...

Seven things to do before I die:

1. Write a musical
2. Write a series of books similar to Armistead Maupins Tales of the City called 'The Valley Gal Chronicles'
3. Be published in a nationwide magazine
4. Get back into TV and do shows I love
5. Not be so anxious about traveling. (I went to London once for 5 days and spent 3 in a hotel. That's just dumb)
6. Be more current about news and perhaps a bit more poltical
7. Start a program for stressed out moms
8. Make a living from home (either Ebay or writing)
9. Take up piano again
10. Be very physically fit
11. Do more things that scare me(okay, so I have more than 7... I'll stop here)

Seven things I can (or will) not do:

1. Be mean to someone on purpose. It's just not in my nature. I can't say I haven't hurt people due to my honest and large mouth, but it was never to intentionally hurt them.
2. Go through childbirth without an epidural (Since we're not having any more kids, this isn't an issue. Unless I get knocked up by Liam Neesons Love child in a re-enactment from "Rob Roy"'s opening scene, but that won't happen either due to #3, inspired by Toni
3. Cheat on James. He can be a pain in the ass, but he's so damn loyal and good and true. I adore him.
4. Dance on my toes. I'm 6'1. I am a 38 DD. It's just not in the cards.
5. Jump out of a plane.
6. Have certain kinds of sex in certain kinds of places, body or otherwise... nuf said.
7. Walk naked in a nudist colony. Call it the Catholic conservative in me. I just don't need my hoo hoo in the wind. Nor my post child gumby boobs. Sounds very freeing, though. Until you sit on a lawn chair. Yuk.

Seven things that attract me to my spouse/partner/the opposite sex:

1. His beautiful face - like John Kennedy Junior - classic, rugged.
2. His voice - deep
3. His no nonsense, grounded attitude on life
4. His heart - amazing with kids and animals
5. His cleanliness - I can be messy, so it's a plus. When we first dated, he'd show up at my teeny apartment - that didn't have a dishwasher - and take my dishes to his condo on his lunch break). Then he'd take them home, run them through his dishwasher, and bring them back. I thought that was sweet. OF course later in life, it's this anal side that I could kick him in the head for. But while I'm kicking him in the head, I have clean plates.
6. I loved that he owned a condo and wore pants that weren't falling off his ass. A big plus compared to some winners I dated.
7. He puts up with me.

Seven things I say most often:

1. I love you.
2. Who loves you more than anyone in the whole world? And Nick screams "Mommy!"3. 1! 2! 3! Time out!
4. Hi, Doll
5. God Damnxxx! Need to work on that
6. Thank you
7. God, I really need to... fill in the blank

Seven books (or series) I love:

1. Tales of the City
2. Editorials in the LA Times Magazine
3. Harry Potter
4. Anything Ann Tyler
5. The Little House series when I was a kid.
6. The Writers Market (God, I really need to query... see?)
7. Any kind of home decorating or woman's magazine

Seven movies I watch over and over again (or would if I had the time):

1. Moonstruck
2. Life is Beautiful
3. Shrek
4. When Harry Met Sally
5. Evita or any musical for that matter.
6. The Incredibles
7. Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer (It's just so cozy with the snow and the music and the whole underdog theme. I am not fond of Santa's sexim toward Clarissa, but that aside, it's a classic)

Okay, anybody else, feel free.

The picture above is my husband in Germany. As you can see, he's totally exhausted. Can't you just see how much he misses me from his eyes? I really need to send him a care package.

Comments From the Penis Gallery

Okay, I meant "Peanut" gallery. Just trying to get everyone's attention. HELLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOO! I have had so little comments lately that I have a stock pile of reasons that ya'll better fit into. My opinon to follow. They are:

Reason 1. It's holiday season - I'm too busy (Hey, I have two kids and am neurotic and needy enough to post my life on the internet. At least validate my efforts with a "hey, whatevah idiot. bye." Cecelia... don't you dare post that. I know your type.

Reason 2. I don't have anything clever to say. (Fine. That just makes me feel better for being more clever than you. Given I am just avoiding dishes and putting Nick to bed, I don't need something witty. But you will get less harrassed if it's funny)

Reason 3. You don't want me to know who you are. (I will hunt you down, so come clean now)

WHERE IS EVERYONE!>????????????????????!

Cracking Myself Up

So I bought myself two pairs of jeans today. This is quite remarkable because A) I rarely buy for myself. B) Nick was with Crafty K at an indoor playgym (God bless that woman - she didn't even have her kids with her, but since she was hosting the mommy and me for her church, she wanted to take Nick as her guest... that woman is soooo getting the fancy highrise in heaven). C) Sophie slept - the WHOLE time.

It was a very odd experience to walk through Old Navy and just... look. And lo and behold, there were two pairs of size 12 long jeans that fit like a glove. This constitutes as remarkable # D because I don't know the last time I was a 12. And not to sound braggy, but I will, since it's my blog, I looked friggin goooood in them! I kept turning around to look at my ass and thought "either I'm on drugs, or these things make me pretty hot. I'm not talking J-Lo or MILF status (MILF - Mom I'd Love to Fuck) but I looked sexy for Mama P.

I was in such good spirits I bought 2 shirts, matching cable knits for the kids, and some pants/shirts for Nick. This goes down as Remarkable #E since I rarely buy new. But what the hell. My ass was doing the thinking, not my brain.

This became only too clear when I picked up Nick from Playsource. He was at the train table, and when I bent down to get him... pooooof. Air in the dairyair. (Yes, Mom, I know that's not how you spell butt in French, but I'm too lazy to look it up right now. And since my butt is the size it is due to lots of icecream, and I was feeling wind back there, dairy air works.) Honestly, there wasn't massive amounts of air, but to quote Dominic's favorite Thomas book, "There was a crack in the track!" To clarify: the pants didn't rip. The waist was just a tad too low. No major cheek cleavage, but enough to really bug me. I tried the whole "it's no big deal if I don't squat" defense. But as a mom of 2 toddlers, all I do is find myself on the floor, or hunched over a toilet. That just isn't going to work.

Then I got home and checked the VISA bill. Yikes. Buyers remorse started setting in big time. Sure, the kids would look adorable in their sweaters, but do they need them? And the shirt I got, it does look good with my bowling shoes, but so does KD Lange, and it's not the look I'm going for.

So, after some long soul searching, I am returning both jeans and the shirt I bought. I'm keeping the kids stuff. (I know that's a typical mom move, but hell, they friggin deserve some new digs for a change). As for me? I ordered one pair of 12 long WAIST jeans online and called it a day.

Kids are now sleeping. I'm cleaning my office, prepping dinner, and making mental plans to sell more Ebay stuff. Then I'm going to buy myself more clothes.

I swear.

No, really.

And shoes.

Seriously.

And when I post the picture of my angels in their red brand name cable knits, ya'll better post and tell me how friggin adorable they look! I will spare you the photo of my ass in the jeans. It ain't that kind of blog. But truthfully? I'm tempted to take one. Just as a reminder for what I look like next month when I'm back to my normal size 14 and then have to complain on this blog how I spent 30.00 on something I can't wear.

Soul Foods

I was at Whole Foods market on Thursday morning. I sometimes go there with Sophie after I drop of Nick at preschool. This particular location has a fun cross section of ethnicities and economics. There's the long haired organic attachment parenting hippy moms loading their boca burgers into their Mexican woven environmentally sound shopping bags. There's the Tommy Hilfiger clothed mommy and daddys toting their twins (by surrogate, hence mom's killer rack) in designer puffy stroller seat covers. They are usually on their cel phones calling out names of cities, which might lead you to believing their travel agents, until their kids respond to mom's shrieks, "Berlin, take your hand off of London's cheek RIGHT now or we will NOT be going for sushi". There's the twenty five year old Sarah Jessica Parker type clad in the DKNY business suit buying her premade lunches for the week, and equally as many red wines. Then, there's Marty.

As it turns out, Marty is a 85 year old wheelchair bound senior with no legs. Like me, he was sipping coffee in the cafe' area. I saw the headline "Williams Awaiting Death Penalty" and as it turns out, for the first time this month, I actually listened to NPR this morning. I had to know Marty's story, so I threw a quick comment his way about how many years William's has already spent in jail. I figured Marty would either start talking, grateful for company, or pretend not to hear me. Lucky for me, he started jabbering right away. At first, it was about the news. How terrible people act. Within minutes he had rolled himself over to my table. I detected an accent, which led to the info that he was a Jew. He was born in England and moved to Italy when he was 17. There he met a woman who "had a body that would not stop" and married her. She was the love of his life. He is still not over the fact that she died of cancer in 82. He stopped believing in God when his son died a year later. Five years later he married wife #2. He likes her, but... (now in a hushed tone as she was due to meet him soon) ..he's not in love with her. She's lost too much weight recently. And let's face it "I have a lot of women chasing me at the senior center. Not that I'd marry them, but I could have a nice relationship".

A quick interjection: This is a typical man. He's 85. He has no legs. He has on old clothes. But he claims women are chasing him. I almost added "Of course they're running after you... it's not like you can run after them" but I refrained. I would say he's arrogant, but I kind of believe him. This guy has a fabulous personality. He's engaging. And there's some women who can't live without a man, so perhaps it's true....

Anyway, before his wife came, and before Sophie passed him the 100th brochure from our table on "whole foods veggies" he slipped me his # on a check book cover. "I live in Room 26 at the Senior Center... come to the front desk if you ever want to have coffee. And bring the kids! I am not trying to push a friendship on you, but I like you. You're fun to talk to. And it gets lonely."
Then he wheeled away.

As I watched him converse with the woman he did not love (though he'd been with her for over 20 years) I was struck with how someone can spend a whole life adding memories to the vault, but without someone new to talk about them, they mean nothing.

I weighed the pros and cons of calling this guy one day. Cons: He's a total stranger. I have so many obligations already. He does more talking than listening. Pros: He can't exactly attack me - he's bound to a chair. It's good for the kids to see older people and not be scared. He's wicked smart, funny and full of story potential.

Guess which option will win out?

I Am Thankful

I awoke this morning to James eating Cheerios on the floor with the kids. He also had sent the following (posted below) to me. I don't know what's going on around here, but clearly the Xmas spirit is infesting even the curmugeony of scrooges. I also find it odd that the one other blog I follow (Travels with Toni, link a few posts below) features quite a few "gratitude" listings. Coincidence... Universal goodness being tapped into? I don't know. But it's nice to focus on the good things in life sometimes rather than the obvious sadnesses. Some of you might have lost family around this time of year (I did). Some of you might be low on money (been there). Some of you might not have a significant other (been there). Some of you might be fighting with your significant other (been there). But even with all this, there's always something lovely amiss. Let's turn our heads toward that and keep on truckin'. And if you can't see the rainbow in the rain, there's always the news.


From James.....

I am Thankful: FOR THE WIFEWHO SAYS IT'S HOT DOGS TONIGHT, BECAUSE SHE IS HOME WITH ME. FOR THE HUSBANDWHO IS ON THE SOFABEING A COUCH POTATO,BECAUSE HE IS HOME WITH ME.FOR THE TEENAGERWHO IS COMPLAINING ABOUT DOING DISHESBECAUSE IT MEANS HE IS AT HOME,NOT ON THE STREETS.FOR THE TAXES I PAYBECAUSE IT MEANSI AM EMPLOYED.FOR THE MESS TO CLEAN AFTER A PARTYBECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVEBEEN SURROUNDED BY FRIENDS.FOR THE CLOTHES THAT FIT A LITTLE TOO SNUGBECAUSE IT MEANSI HAVE ENOUGH TO EAT.FOR MY SHADOW THAT WATCHES ME WORKBECAUSE IT MEANSI AM OUT IN THE SUNSHINEFOR A LAWN THAT NEEDS MOWING,WINDOWS THAT NEED CLEANING,AND GUTTERS THAT NEED FIXINGBECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE A HOME.FOR ALL THE COMPLAININGI HEAR ABOUT THE GOVERNMENTBECAUSE IT MEANSWE HAVE FREEDOM OF SPEECH..FOR THE PARKING SPOTI FIND AT THE FAR END OF THE PARKING LOTBECAUSE IT MEANS I AM CAPABLE OF WALKINGAND I HAVE BEEN BLESSED WITH TRANSPORTATION .FOR MY HUGE HEATING BILLBECAUSE IT MEANSI AM WARM.FOR T HE LADY BEHIND ME IN CHURCHWHO SINGS OFF KEYBECAUSE IT MEANSI CAN HEAR.FOR THE PILE OF LAUNDRY AND IRONINGBECAUSE IT MEANSI HAVE CLOTHES TO WEAR.FOR WEARINESS AND ACHING MUSCLESAT THE END OF THE DAYBECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE BEENCAPABLE OF WORKING HARD.FOR THE ALARM THAT GOES OFFIN THE EARLY MORNING HOURSBECAUSE IT MEANS I AM ALIVE.AND FINALLY, FOR TOO MUCH E-MAILBECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVEFRIENDS WHO ARE THINKING OF ME.SEND THIS TO SOMEONE YOU CARE ABOUT. I JUST DID.
Live well, Laugh often, & Love with all of your heart!

K Tagged

Before you read K's books, I have to comment that I always knew how smart she was. And introspective. But it's so interesting to do little exercizes like this, because I see a different side of her now. Not that I'm surprised, because she's as beutiful outside as she is inside. But she's still pretty whacked. She collects Asian salt shakers. Her husband dressed up as Mr. T. She had an engagement dinner at 7 Layers of Beef. She jokes that she's not uppercrust, but she's pretty much the cream in anybody's coffee, so don't let her disuade you. And K, if my comp hubby can send me love letters from work, you can believe in romance, too. Just forget about the glass slippers and stick to tivos.

K's choices:

1. C.S. Lewis-His overwhelming arrogance and confident conclusions changed my life. Read page 56 in The Case For Christianity.

2. Alison Weir-She gives voice to The Six Wives of Henry VIII. I love anything from that era. -such tales of castles, wealth, rising up through the ashes only to be cast away..and the sex! Those people were serious. Procreate or die. Good stuff.

3. I could die and wake up in Where the Wild Things Are. I get that kid. I want to be that kid. Wouldn't it be great to dress up in a white wolf suit, sail away and become king of a bunch of cooks, and come home to warm dinner. It just reminds me of seeing my mom. She'll love me no matter what.

4. Then there's Gatsby. I found that book bound in Blue leather decorating the bathroom in my parents house in high school. I read it 6 times since. I memorized the last lines when I was 16...I was an emotional mess back then, but that book haunted me through all my dramatic times. It's easy to get lost in.
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter - tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms further... And one fine morning - So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
5. I read a book called Thank You Mr. Falkner every year on the last day of school. It's really easy to have a hardened heart by June. You spend your entire year trying to help some kids through red tape and learning disabilities. I cry almost every time. It reminds me why I teach and how hard it is to be a kid.
6. Memoirs of Geisha-damn them for making it into a movie. I read it cover to cover on a plane trip to Manhattan. Oh just go see the movie.
7. I want to be Holly Go Lightly. I have her sunglasses. Does that count? Who doesn't want to have Breakfast at Tiffany's?
8. Judy Blume. Are you there God, It's Me Margaret and Wifey. I'm speechless. I learned so much.
9. I read Less Than Zero in college because I was fascinated with the characters. Then I read the strange sequels that followed. Bret Easton Ellis is dark and to tell you the truth really weird. I hadn't quite settled in my skin back then and those characters fascinated me. I loved being around my "cool" Hollywood friends but too much of a white bread bubble girl living in suburbia to do anything outside of the box, or is it bubble? Anyways, it was a good chapter in my life. I'm glad I didn't go out of the bubble box.
10. My copy of Cinderella is lost. It was original Disney with a torn pink cover and I would read it over and over and over in my bedroom. I studied the pages and outfits. Some day my prince would come. Who knew it would be a washed up baseball player accountant? Will his 4 Runner turn back into a pumpkin at midnight? It was nice to be a kid and believe in the fairy tale. If you truly know me, you know how I preach that "life is not an episode of friends". I don't really believe in romance anymore. It was nice to believe for a little while.
11. Cookbooks are my Prozac.
12. The Scarlet Letter was great long before Demi Moore tried to spice it up. I remember reading that and thinking how brilliant Hawthorne was. He knew what people wanted to read. That was my first taste of adultery and drama. The I met the ass that I dated for 6 years.
13. Pride and Prejudice is my other Cinderella. Long before I had no clue about life I thought I would fall in love with Darcy and run away. Just once I want a guy to write me a letter. The rest I can let go. God knows no matter how much elbow rubbing I do with the upper crust-I aint getting in.
14. Mormon books..I don't know what it is. Those people intrigue me soooo much. Try Leaving the Saints. The woman is so nuts even without her crazy religion. I didn't want to keep reading but I had to. There are a couple of good ones out there. No really.
15. Chalotte's Web It is the first time you realize you are growing up. Some teacher handed you a copy of this book with death, rebirth, and struggle in it and you're supposed to get it. It jsut made me start to see the world had some issues.

Tag, You're IT!

I was one of 3 people"tagged" by my online buddy Toni to list 15 things I like about books. Once I got started, I couldn't stop. I am posting my replies here since I'm too lazy to write a new post tonite and going to tag 3 of my own readership: Lucky winners are:

1. Cousin Kim
2. K
3. Kate

I'd have said Cecelia, but I'm going with the 3Ks. Though Cecelia, if you have time some day, please post your top 15. You're such a good reader of stuff - smart and political and I hope to learn about history through osmosis.

My response to Toni:

Right now I'm knee deep in poop and chicken cooking (not a great combo). Hence, this is a first course sampling of kid books and adults (not THAT kind of adult version you pervs)

1. For my son, I love reading this colorful condensed version of Heidi. You know the chick: blond, barefoot, digs goats and is nice to old people. It's so soothing to read at night. We cuddle in the bed and read about the hot cheese bread and warm milk Heidi shares with Grandpa overlooking a valley of flowers. But old Grandpa, speaking of pervs... he unnerves me a bit. I'd like to see a Broadway version of the real story behind Heidi and her grandpa.
2. Thomas Books - great for counting, coloring and getting your kid to eat (look... it's Thomas carrying green peas to your tunnel. Eat! Quick, let's put it on the turn table! Then you put it on a lazy susan, give it a quick spin, and while they're laughing, down the hatch!)
3. I don't like Dr. Seuss that much. I know I"m going to hell, but he's a bit too bizarre, with his dogs and his cars, like he's smoked too much pot, yes he rhymes quite a lot, but I'm sick of the fish and the hats and that's that...
4. I hope my kid reads the "Little House" series. I love the idea of traveling in a covered wagon with your family close by, fighting for survival but cozy campfires at night. Of course, in reality, my family would have intentionally forgotten me in the woods. I'm not a good traveler and most definitely would have gotten wagon sick. And I can't drive an SUV well let alone a huge object that requires horses, rope and a skill for Indian hunting. Starbuck hunting? I have an Eagle eye for that, my pioneer friends.
5. I adore anything with Ramona Quimby or Super Fudge. I hope my kids aren't too cool for school with those. (I never did the Nancy Drew mysteries. Sorry, Toni. But maybe I'll read them now?)
6. Shel Silverstein gave me my love for writing wacky poems. My highschool quote was "Teddy said it was a hat, so I put it on, now dad is saying where the heck's the toilet plunger gone?"
7. I will run from anything sci fi and fantasy. Except for Harry Potter. My husband and I read that out loud to each other during our honeymoon (ironically a week spent in the wilderness in a cabin)... I was so entranced, I swore if I had twin boys I'd name them George and Fred.
8. I adore Jane Eyre. I remember going through a rough time in college and reading it in the ladies' lounge outside the main quad with a cup of coffee in one hand, the rain coming down.
9. Armistead Maupin is my hero. If you haven't read Tales of the City, then get off your butt and buy it on Amazon tonite. I love his short chapters with characters so laugh out loud funny you want them over for dinner and red wine. Or a joint, as in his case. For me to want to smoke a joint with anyone (as I've never smoked pot in my life) must mean that he writes some "good shit, man"
10. I remember taking a day off of Catholic Girls' highschool to finish reading the Grapes of Wrath. I sat all day in my dad's recliner with the wind whipping outside. I felt safe and warm, and lucky I wasn't starving. Again, love outback spirit. But prefer the air conditioning of Outback Steakhouse.
11. I read this random book I found thrifting called "Playing Away" about a woman who has an affair. It was so funny, despite the subject matter, and touching... it was sort of a Helen Fielding meets the girls who wrote "The Nanny Diaries"... that's a good book, too. And it has a good ending
12. Oh, God... the BEST book I read this year "Hypocrite in a White Pouffy Dress". GET IT.
13. The most overrated book I read this year "Good in Bed". Too unrealistic... like I'm all for the fat chick getting a break, but this was the fat chick who wrote a character who wrote who had fantasies and weird coincidences happened that made these fantasies come true, despite stupid choices on her part. NOOOOOO.
14. Anything by Anne Tyler is a winner. She might have slow pacing, but it's like you're in a Philadelphia home. With people who's lives are so sedentary... until one minor thing comes into play and the ball of thread comes unraveled.
15. I did not like "Light on Snow" by Anita Shreve. I found it "Light on Plot" and too obvious in its emotional currents... "Ooooooh... a lost baby in the woods helps a dad and daughter bond after they lost their own wife/mother"... Still, it's a huge seller, so maybe I need to get off my ass and write something better if I'm so great.
Random Selections I adored
- White Oleander- ...Ya Ya Sisterhoood (what the hell was the first two words?)- Memoirs of a Geisha- Anything by Amy Tan- Great plays
Not a Shakespeare fan myself, but had a great class in college on it.
Wow, I didn't know I was so passionate about books. Thanks, Toni!

You Ain't Nothin' But a Hound Dog...

... Cryin' all the time.

In homage to Toni's Xmas photo session (post below) I am uploading a shot of Sophie taken last Halloween. At that time, her hair was still pitch black, and she had side burns. It was a toss up between Snow White and a Flying Elvis. Guess which one I went with? She was very pleased.

Ah, Memories

I'd like to put a good word out to a mama who is raising 3 boys in Chicago. She's one of those wacka-dos like me who is trying to bring up healthy children while maintaining her passions - in her case photography and writing. Here's her blog. http://www.travelswithtoni.com/blog/ I am posting 3 pictures of her ill fated holiday photo session. I love any woman who has the good graces to take out her camera when life is going to crap.
I particularly ike how big brother is laughing at little brothers who are alternately crying and also laughing at each other. Fabulous!

Hooray, Hooray...

...It's Taco Tuesday! Ay yay yaaaaaaay.

Spent a very busy past few days doing a whole lot of mommying wifeying occasional andrea-ying stuff. Bought Nick a train table for Xmas and an art table for his birthday (my New Years boy!) Did a little Sunday school teaching (more details later - it's shocking I do this, but it's fun, and the kids like me... it really is a miracle from God!) I food shopped, I went to a jewelry show, I did 10 loads of laundry, cleaned floors, started repainting my hallway in conjunction with painting my mom's bathroom. I ebayed and thrifed and punched my pilot and... well, I'm not doing a very good job defending why I never get one thing done well with a life so packed in odds and ends. If I could be a Super hero, I'd be Octamom - In one hand is a toilet brush, in one a diaper, in one a lap top, in one a paintbrush. That leaves four for cooking, cleaning, ebaying and phone calls. Everything else is going to shit. Then I call on Anal Man - my superhero husband - whose xray vision is more like tunnel vision, but he focuses. And always saves the Day!

James really has been great lately. He's been making his stews, thanks to a 1975 pressure cooker from Stella. He's been putting Sophie to bed each night. We've been dating again (including a Saturday night visit to the Marmalade Cafe' where we people watched, strolled by Xmas trees, and of course, talked about his favorite subject, cars and computers. And to be honest, as long as my mouth is being stuffed with sour dough bread and Diet Coke, he can talk about an RX 7's rotary engine for hours without piston-ing me off). With all this soul providing (okay, so I like that Michael Bolton song "Soul Provider"... I also like country music, Disneyland and Walmart - Get over it) I have no business complaning. At least not until my next period, and then he can go to hell again.

I am downright chipper these days. Between my time off, Nick's reinstalled nap (making him his happy go lucky self again) and much time spent with James and my family/friends, I'm a regular little Xmas Elf. Well, a 6'1 Xmas Elf. Okay, I'm a Xmas Giant. But I don't have a huge head. That would really bug me. Especially the inevitable insults as I walked down Plummer: "Hey, getting ahead in the world?" or "Hey, you want some more head?" Or "Hey, heading this way?" Then again, people are so politically correct, maybe I'd get a writing job on a show under some WGA clause: "In addition to all the sexist men that write for Hollywood, we also need one female, preferably with an oversized head to fill our special needs quotes. " Then again, everyone in Tinsel Town has huge heads, so maybe my idea isn't so brilliant.

Top 20 Wrap Up

A rather rough week of parenting and domestic mishaps have just been added to ye old memory file. I have two choices: curl up in a fetal position and live off of a sippy cup and Gerber puffs, or remain focused on the good things. I am choosing the second, because by nature, I'm a "pick me up by my great thrift store find of the week 10.00 Bass boot straps" kind of girl. To quote one of my favorite sayings "There are two kinds of people in the world: positive and negative. Neither are right, but the positive is happier." In homage to this, here are my top 10 gratitudes of the week. In homage to the pissy four year old inside of the mature 35 year old, I am also posting the top 10 irritations. Re: my complaints: I am going to delude myself that the 10 negatives should be viewed as less "bitching" and more "connecting" to my massive online audience who will be thrilled to know they are going through simlar things as me. Of course, as Cecelia pointed out a few weeks back, my readership probably consists of 40 people if I'm lucky which, in her honor, goes down as the #3 complaint on my Top 10 list of complaints. The truth is she's probably right (her pragmatism is her best quality), but rather than face this probable truth, I shall simply up my delusion pill from 50 miligrams to a horse size tablet of happy serum and continue on.

Top 10 Positives This Week

1. My hallway is almost done
2. Nick just used the toilet on his own
3. My pilot is completed
4. I bought the Writers Market (new, no less! 30.00! I'm so crazy!)
5. I am going on my 3rd 6 hour Sunday
6. Sophie is talking in sentences now "Up, Mommy" or "Milk, peeez" and is seriously the cutest spunkiest girl in the world
7. I sold some items on Ebay, upping my fortune to an average of 50.00/week - woooooo!
8. James and I are spending loads of time together and laughing more than usual
9. I am looking forward to Maid installment #1 next week (Xmas gift from fabu hubby)
10. I am healthy and am reminded by Nick each day that I am loved.

Top 10 Pissy Items (Let's just do adendums to the list above, shall we?)

1. My hallway is almost done - but I see blue streaks all over from where the paint store didn't mix it properly, so I have to redo the WHOLE THING
2. Nick just used the toilet on his own (after having a few accidents each day this whole week)
3. My pilot is completed (but I need to punch it and cut one page out before giving it to power agent) Also, I can't rest on my laurels that I am an internet celebrity, because as Cecelia pointed out, I have 40 readers if I'm lucky. THANK YOU Cecelia.
4. I bought the Writers Market - new, no less! 30.00! I'm so crazy! (I now have to find time to query all magazines and brace myself for the inevitable 100s of rejections before an acceptance letter happens... I am less worried about failure as I am finding the time to write alluring letters. 5. I am going on my 3rd 6 hour Sunday (Hey, there's the six hours I'll need to use to write my query letters)
6. Sophie is talking in sentences now "Up, Mommy" or "Milk, peeez" and is seriously the cutest spunkiest girl in the world (As her cuteness rises, Nick's rebellion does, too. Yesterday, he threw all his blocks into the turtle tank and started sipping reptilian crap water from his Dora cup)
7. I sold some items on Ebay, upping my fortune to an average of 50.00/week - woooooo! (I also didn't sell alot, so with Ebay fees and money spent on inventory, I'm almost breaking even)
8. James and I are spending loads of time together and laughing more than usual (He's leaving for Germany for a week soon)
9. I am looking forward to Maid installment #1 next week Xmas gift from fabu hubby (I can't complain about this... I'm trying, but no dice)
10. I am healthy and am reminded by Nick each day that I am loved. (I worry that I'm not giving him what he needs or he wouldn't be wetting himself on purpose... )

Okay, I feel soooo much better now. Hey, at least I'm not poor Jessica Simpson, going through a divorce. I mean, it's such a rough decision to leave a man you know is a womanizing bastard. Then you have to fight over your fifty million dollar assets and your fifty million dollar ass that will be wearing fifty million dollar clothes to court that will land you fifty million more dollars in your free advertising and predictable Movie of the Week.

Mama P's crystal ball reading for Jessica?

-A few years boozing and sleeping around (probably with an ex of Paris Hiltons, which isn't hard, because that chick has fucked everyone)
- Then she'll turn 21, long for spirituatlity, and join the Kabala or Scientology.
- After a year of being best friends with Madonna or Katie Holmes, she will go back to her Christian roots, marry her father, and have a baby to "settle down" (in this case, she'll have her brother or sister)
- Then she'll go into obscurity for two years, seen only in organic coffes shops with the baby sling, being quoted as "I have no nanny" and other such blatant lies.
- Then she'll join Angela and Brad for a tour of a third world country and adopt an Ethiopian boy named Botox.
- Then she do a Barbara Walters Exclusive! Telling the world in exquisite detail about how she pissed in a dessert hole and had to live in a Holiday Inn for two weeks
- Then it's the inevitable "Return to Music" with an aimiable duet with Nick Lachey (who just finished an Oprah Winfrey Exclusive! on his sex addiction and genital warts condition.
- Then she will divorce her father, marry her fat 40 year old manager, and we won't see her for twenty years until the "Newleyweds Xmas Reunion" where she's bloated more than Cathy Bach.

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Clearly, for all my complaints about having no time, when I do have time, I don't use it constructively.