There's Some(thing?)one For Everyone

I realize this is an unconventional Easter post. But, really? Could one wait even one more day to air this to the blogging public? I think not.

http://www.independent.co.uk/extras/sunday-review/living/i-married-the-eiffel-tower-832519.html

Super Saturday

Got up this morning, picked a bunch of basil from the garden and made fresh pesto with it (if you beg, I'll give you my Sicilian aunt's recipe). If you like pasta for breakfast, this is the house to live in.

Then I boiled way more eggs than any family need dye for one Easter Sunday. But, I found camoflage egg dye for Two Fish, in addition to the regular dye. So we needed some extra eggs. We'll just be eating egg salad for awhile.

I've decided to take the children to see Monsters Vs. Aliens today. By myself. Because I've lost my mind.

Dressers, Bookshelves and Big, Fat Armoires

Dang. I was really hoping that the requirement that something be drastically changed every time The Scientist returns home was going to be satisfied by the puppies being neutered. This is evidently not so. Starting yesterday, I have been overcome with the mad desire to rearrange everything in our home. This leads me to one of two conclusions. Either The Scientist is on his way home, or I am pregnant and a few weeks from delivery. My current figure aside, the second option is not possible. It must be the former.

Dressers have been emptied and moved to the living room. The treadmill has been moved from the garage to the bedroom and back to the garage (don't know what I was thinking on that one). An old-ish armoire that has been living in our garage for the past 5 years has been emptied and ritualistically cleaned with enough cleaning products to give one a spontaneous case of something ending in "-oma." It has been moved to our bedroom. Yes, I did it by myself. I moved it to the garage five years ago by myself too. When I was 8.5 months pregnant. I figured if I could do that, I could definitely get it back in again not pregnant.

Our lone bookshelf has moved rooms (bone of contention between The Scientist and myself- he hates them and thinks they look cluttered. I think bookshelves lined with books are signs of interesting people. I'm right.). It is going to be getting a friend here soon. We have those books double and triple stacked in there and just looking at it is making me jittery.

Random things are now serving as bedside tables and may not stay there. Our garage has a new, sensible (read, CHEAP) storage piece which has not been filled and it's soon-to-be contents are all over the place. You don't even want to know the state of our clothing, what with all the dresser shifting going on around here.

I have about 36 hours to put it all back together. Start the timer...NOW.

A Plan B for Madonna

Poor Madonna is having a rough week. Turns out the Malawian (is that a word?) judges don't put quite the stock in celebrities we do and has denied her request to adopt a(nother) child. While I do think this is a crying shame as this child has the opportunity to grow up in privilege instead of poverty, I don't know that there's much any of us can do about it. So, I've come up with a plan B for her.

I think she should strongly consider adopting any or all of The Real Housewives of NYC. In my constant quest to keep abreast of all trashy reality TV, I tried this one on for size a few nights ago and decided that it didn't at all meet the criteria I look for in trash TV. For one, I don't like my reality personalities to be hopeless or devoid of human decency. If Madonna is just looking to adopt someone to whom she could give a better life, these gals are just her ticket. They don't so much need the life of privilege as much as they need some good old fashioned tough love, but that's a part of the parenting game, right? In fact, I'm suggesting them to anyone looking for a mission project. Forget the starving orphans in Malawi. I've never met anyone who needs savin' more than Kelly and Jill. And, the good news is that, should they be picked for anyone's next mission project (or Madonna's next charitable and/or maternal venture), unlike most children, they don't eat. At all. So, they're really, really cheap to keep around.

It's just something to think about.

April Fool!

The Mommy Show is not without its lighter moments.

This was the children's dinner tonight (totally stolen from Family Fun Magazine).
The "homemade chicken tenders" were actually sugar wafers coated in peanut butter and rolled in crushed cereal.
The "cupcakes" were actually meatloaf (a Paula Dean recipe I would highly recommend) with tinted mashed potatoes piped on top. You can think of me as sort of an evil Martha.

You can see One Fish's face when she tasted her "chicken, " but the meatloaf cupcake was the best. She looked down at her plate and was quiet while she chewed. Then politely excused herself for a drink of water. I started to laugh and couldn't stop. She finally looked up and said quietly, "Mom. This tastes like crap." I think it was the first time I've ever heard her use that word! It was hilarious and I couldn't stop laughing!!!

I tried to pass the jelly off as ketchup but Two Fish asked me why there was jelly on his plate. I told him it was a "new organic ketchup." That satisfied him and he didn't ask again, even after he was eating his "chicken" dipped in the new "ketchup." He was highly complimentary of how I'd fixed the "chicken" and said that it tasted like granola bar chicken. If it hadn't actually had a big ol' sugar wafer inside it I would have been making a mental note to make it again.

When I came clean (which was much quicker than planned since I couldn't stop laughing after One Fish made her "crap" pronouncement), they were suitably shocked and impressed. After spending about five lamenting how horrid meatloaf is, Two Fish allowed that this particular dish was actually pretty decent- given that it was not, after all, a fluffy, pink frosting covered baked good.

One Fish never did come around on the meatloaf and continued to mourn her lost cupcake through the rest of the meal. But, even she had to admit that she had not been aware what deceptive skill I had to fool them all day into believing they were having cupcakes for dinner. "How do you lie so well?!" she wanted to know. Oh, someday, little bear...someday...you, too, will learn...

If laughing at your children's expense doesn't say "family fun" I don't know what does.

Martinimobile

I have a proposal I've been mulling over for quite awhile. Ever since I became a stay-at-home mommy (slave), actually. This latest recession has really brought it to a head. BTW, are we calling it a depression now, or are we sticking with recession? I can't seem to keep up. Anywho, think about this and tell me if I have not had a stroke of genius: What do people do when times are tough? If you answer "look for a job and drink, you are getting a ding, ding, ding! You got it right! So, my little business should cater to both. I can start franchises (to employ the out of work realtors, don't you know), AND provide a much needed service. If I were really smart, my new business venture would be...


The Martinimobile

These little busses would look suspiciously similar to the ice cream trucks we all grew up with and loved. With maybe a little Mardi Gras float feel to them too. Naturally, we would market to the mommies for starters. No one I know needs a martini at the end of a long day of legos and carpool like my favorite mommies. I can also think of quite a few childless girlfriends who would be digging in their change drawers for this too. I think we should carry a very limited selection- just to make it easy. And, really? If someone is running down the street chasing a Martinimobile, do they really care what the heck is being served as long as it has the word PROOF on the side of the bottle? I think not.

I'm really not much of a drinker. Not because I'm against it. On the contrary, I'm all in favor of a cocktail (or three) at the end of the day. I just don't have the time and have lost all tolerance and so one drink makes me sleepy and renders me unable to morph into the drill sargeant I need to be to get everyone into bed before 9PM. But, I can't help but think often of my grandparents and how they had a drink every single solitary night when my grandfather got home from work. He mixed the drinks and they drank them together while they discussed their days and relaxed. They just had one each and I can remember exactly the glasses they drank them from. I think they were onto something. Just one. To help one relax. And how convenient would it be if you didn't even have to mix it yourself? If it just came to you?

I really think there is lots of room for expansion with my Martinimobile idea. I could rent out for playgroups (is that wrong?), block parties and of course, church preschool holiday parties. Stop it with the raised eyebrows- I'm kidding! Kind of...

On a more serious note, I would definitely have a very, very strict policy against selling to anyone who didn't look somewhat haggard, over the age of at least 30 or who looked remotely like a nanny or babysitter (Not that I would have any clue what either looked like. I don't see many around this fishtank). It is one thing to have a cocktail ourselves at the end of a long day- just to get us through the 4-7 Angry Hour, as we call it. It is a whole 'nother story to pay someone to keep your precious children, only to find that they were using your daughter's school milk money for Long Island ice teas.

I would also have pretty stringent hiring requirements for my "bus drivers." All my drivers would have to be over the age of 30, have vibrant senses of humor and wear yoga pants.

I haven't even drawn up a business plan yet and already I am envisioning my successful business. Women across the Gulf Coast, hearing the tinkling of my merry bus, throwing couch cushions to the ground in their haste to scrounge up the change necessary to get a Screwdriver. Racing down the street, baby on the hip, toddler being dragged by one hand, change clutched in the other, screaming, "Wait for me! Wait for me!"

See, I told you I'm a genius. Now, don't you want a franchise?

Just wait until she has kids

Do you think Kelly Clarkson could have figured out a way to make the same catchy song without using the word "SUCK?" There is just something offputting about an 8 year old belting out "my life would SUCK without yooooooouuuu!" from the backseat of my car. Which is why I change it when it comes on, unless they aren't in the car. In which case I sing along at the top of my lungs.

I'm considering telling them that she is saying "My life's a muck without you" so I can continue to listen to it, but I'm not sure they'll buy it. Any suggestions?