Hollywood here I come

I've been asked to write my blog into a movie idea!!! An agent from Talent People, LLC in Hollywood emailed me a month ago. His name is Sheldon Baskin and I guess someone sent him my blog and he thinks it would make a good movie. So you can imagine, with my job and the kids, Brian and Tyler, I thought I'd never have time to write up my ideas for it. But I managed to make it happen!! I've been devoting all my spare time to it and it's almost done. Can you imagine how fun it would be to see my story up on the big screen with Julia Roberts playing me? No, Kate Bekinsale playing me. Yeah, Kate Bekinsale.

The only problem is, I don't have an ending.

So I have to make one.

Which I am doing this week.

Meddlng Mom

This mom, who works at her daughter's school, logged in and changed her daughter's grades.

Oh boy, here's the worst part, her kids were already getting A's. I can't imagine caring that much.

4th of July

My plans for the 4th are to sit by a pool with a Mai Tai and tan in the sun while Tyler makes sure I have the proper amount of suntan lotion at all time. In reality, Brian bought the kids a pool, so we'll be setting that up then filling it with a hose for God knows how long. I guess we could also do this.

This is the worst excerpt:

Tell kids they can have a party, said Jen Singer of MommaSaid.net, an online community for moms. Let them plan the day's events, allowing them to get excited about the party.But then impose rules, such as they can only eat carrots — no ice cream — and they can only play inside. When they get upset about the rules, explain that's how the patriots felt when England made rules and imposed taxes on Americans.

I guess I'm lucky

I'm lucky that Brian would never buy into this (and he has a girlfriend at work, maybe?). I do not want to be the person responsible for paying the mortgage.

Picture this

They took my photo today at work for their website. I hate taking photos because I know how I like to be photographed (one of those few things in my life I can control) and no one ever does it right. I've had to ask people to take photos of me down from their facebook or school bulletin boards because I was captured at the wrong angle.

This one is meh. I wish I had left those velcro rollers in an hour longer. The kids we're coming down on me pretty hard in the car and I buckled under the weight of their jokes.

From Resentful Mom

New Friend

So I have a new friend here at work. Her name is Jackie Kirkpatrick and, well, she's pretty much the best lady I've ever met in my life. She confided in me last week at lunch that she has an open marriage. Well, it wasn't really confided, she pretty much tells it like it is. Kind of like how I imagine Dolly Parton talks. She told me all about it. How her and her husband don't talk about who they are sleeping with outside the marriage. She told me that she's only had one outside lover from the relationship and that he was kind of a stupid hot guy and how they make the best ones because then you don't want to leave your husband for them. I couldn't tell her about Tyler. Not yet. But I'm really excited about the idea that I could have a girlfriend to talk about all this exciting stuff with!

How Babies Are Made

Where can I get a copy of this book?It would save me a lot of stammering explanations.

Hot lunch

Tyler and I have been having amazing lunches. It seems like we can talk forever and thankfully both our jobs aren't the punch in, punch out types. I just said "our jobs". Wow, I really feel like an adult again. Speaking of feeling like an adult, guess who just gave someone a blow job in a hotel room? That she actually enjoyed. ME!

We are taking it super slow. This was the furthest we've gone and you could tell by the, um, quickness of it all. I'm kind of glad it didn't take a long time. It's best to get first time things over with quickly then next time you can skip the awkwardness and get right to the fun!

Mummy

Ok, time for one of two things. Be nicer to Bekka or leave her for good. This story scares me.

Burning that candle

I can't imagine being a single mom. I mean, if push came to shove, I just wouldn't raise kids myself. I would leave those kids at a church doorstep in a heartbeat. I am barely able to do all mom things I did before I started designing part time again. Which is why I've made an executive decision for the first time in this house - to make Brian take the kids to activities on the days I have off. So, two days a week he has to come home at a reasonable hour and take the kids to some sort of rehearsal. That means I still have to take the kids to things in the evenings of the three three days I work, but in return I am getting two days of actual alone time. Sure I'm doing laundry and dishes, but it's uninterrupted laundry and dishes. Brian tried to tell me he didn't have time to take the kids to their "extra" activities and I said to him "Well, I guess your kids won't be well rounded enough to go to college". Having kids that don't get a higher education is a great weapon against a man who measures everything in degrees, awards and trophies.

Everything happens at once

The partner at my old design firm, Gunkelman FLESHER , called me last week and offered me part time work at my old design firm. His exact words were, "We need you."

He even offered me a new Mac loaded with Photoshop, Illustrator and InteriCAD 6000 so I could work from home, coming into the office one day a week. I told them I would be happy to come into the office three days a week.

So, for the past week I've been designing a new bar for the Chambers hotel. By myself. It's been amazing. I'm not sure how much I'll be able to write about what's going on, but I will certainly keep this blog as updated as I can. I'd like to increase my workload to 5 full days a week. It'll take me a few weeks to blow off the old low self esteem dust, but once I'm warmed up, I can charm the work right out of them.

In the meantime, the kids will be at summer camp.

Paid for by mommy.

Suck on that Brian.

And guess who has a standing Friday lunch with Tyler? This lady (I am pointing two thumbs at myself).

Mommy Dearest

Cody will never let this happen to me. Thank God my son is probably gay.

Passive Aggressive

Tonight is the first night I've had any time to myself since Brian started demanding that we have sex every night. I mean, it's not exactly assault, cause forced-ish sex falls in a gray area when you are married. And normally I don't care since I get that this is part of the deal, but it just feels like he's trying to prove something and that means we're both pretending. And when no one wants it, it's like kid of a waste of my time. Which is why tonight I told him "no". And saying "no" felt good. Except he took it as a challenge and tried to manhandle me. I kept telling him I needed a break but he didn't listen. He wouldn't stop so I punched him in the face. I take kickboxing class and my right hook is amazing considering I've only ever punched my reflection in an aerobics studio mirror. His nose started bleeding and he was so dumbfounded he didn't know what to say. Then I told him he can think about what if someone manhandled his daughter like that and he got the point real fast. He's asleep right now with toilet paper in his nose. What a jerk.

End of Days

School ended today. Goodbye alone time. Goodbye structure. Goodbye Tyler?

Hot Tip

Thanks to one of my readers for sending me this article from the New York Times. One of the best quotes is this:

"Pay attention to your own needs, he writes, back off on your children and everyone will be happier and better adjusted."

Could being a Resentful Mom and hiding my real emotions and desires actually making my kids into terrible people? If so, it's time to stop being polite and start getting real.

What Women Want

One of the many problems with women's magazines is that they are bi-polar. Take for example, this issue of Women's Day.



One one hand, there's a huge, delicious photo of a pie. Which you just want to dive your face right into. It's a strawberry pie because strawberries are in season. But to the left of that is a teaser "Special Report save-your-life health check". Doesn't it stand to reason that if strawberry pies are in season, so are just plain delicious strawberries? That could be one way to save your health. Eating something other than this pie.

Thankfully, I have the "will power" to avoid things like this. And by "will power" I mean self hatred.

555 Pounds of Responsibility

Holy fried fish! Award goes to the mother of this kid for best "Neglectful Mom". Holy sheesh.

Chained for life

Technology and the Internet have just proved that it would be virtually impossible for me to ditch my kids forever.

Early Bird

Saturday mornings made me wish I could get away with spiking the kids breakfast with Jack Daniels. Their bodies are designed with some sort of mechanism that wakes them up earlier on Saturday than on school days. I call it "Up Syndrome". And it's awful. Waking me up at 5:45 on a Saturday, trying to use their cuteness for evil, evil things like asking me to make them pancakes, taking them to the park, or worse, much worse, putting together the Pig Chef puzzle.

From Resentful Mom

To catch a cheat

I found out today why we can't send the kids to camp. The bank called me today to ask me about a charge on our account. It was for $568 at a place called Jewels Spa and when I asked what it was for the customer service rep said "Couples massage".

It sure wasn't me having that couples massage. Time to investigate our finances. Secret style. I may have stumbled upon my way out.

From Resentful Mom

Role Playing

I think Bekka’s going down the dark road of RPG(role playing games). She’s been putting spells on the food at dinner and giving me intense stares, like she’s cursing me. She's also been calling me "King Swineheart". Fearing this was a reference to my weight, I did a marathon session on the elliptical machine (1 hour 46 minutes). While excreting an insane amount of sweat to Fergie, I decided that I was taking her actions too personally. When I got home, I googled "King Swineheart". King Swineheart is a villain in a RPG game called "Fuzzy Heroes". How could an overweight girl who loves stuffed animals not love this?

This is not really my fault. Yes, I let her eat and eat until she was given no choice but to join the only social group that would accept her – D&D kids. But I thought the worst that could happen would she would join flag brigade. This I will not take responsibility for. She's her own person, she makes her own decisions. It would be like holding Ted Bundy's mother accountable for his murders? No?

Baby remember my name

Cody saw a commercial for the Children's Theater Company in Minneapolis and is adamant on going to their summer camp program. I want him to do it because I can probably enroll him in the day sessions for the whole summer, I can probably talk Bekka into doing it, and then I can drive to Minneapolis every day!! Which means I can see Tyler everyday. It would be similar to what it would be like if we were married, it's like a test run. And, I haven't been able to see him since Brian got back, which is killing me. Especially after how he took care of me after my accident. But after talking to Brian it's clear he'll be giving me the old money excuse (classes are $300 a week for the day classes), saying we can't afford it this year, despite the fact that nothing has changed financially for us and last year we sent the kids to Swift Nature Camp which cost us about $4K per kid, so I don't see how this is different. Except with arts camp, the kids are at home to buffer any interaction I may have to have with Brian.

Belated Mother's Day

Since I was injured the weekend of Mother's Day and Brian was in Asia, he and the kids decided to take me out last night. We went to, ugh, Macaroni Grill, Bekka's choice, and once one of the kids decides where to eat, even thought it's a celebration for you and you being a mom and doing a lot of work and making sure they don't die and giving them food so they can sustain life, and make sure they're clean when they go to school so you don't get a call and they don't get made fun of, and you take them to all their after school activities and you wake up when they want you to even though you're really tired, when they want a certain kind of food, you can't tell them "no". You just have to eat your Penne Rustica and pretend that you're happy when inside all you wanted is a simple, authentic bolognese sauce made by someone who is preferably of Italian descent.

From Resentful Mom

Wrongsentful Mom

A 23 year old woman in New Mexico suffocated her 3 year old son, brought him back to life with CPR, then changed her mind and suffocated him again. Then she buried him beneath the sand of a nearby playground. When asked why she did it, Tiffany Toribio said she did not want him to grow up with no one caring about him, the same way that she had grown up where nobody had cared about her. Which is awful. However, according to CNN.com, family members indicated that she did not express the typical love of a mother for her child.

This got me wondering if I was capable of killing my own children. Don't worry, when push comes to shove, I wouldn't be able to murder them. If I wanted to be done with them I would leave them in the dead of the night. But it's kind of like the psychological freak out you go through when you are standing near a ledge or a drop off and your mind says "JUMP" and you get scared that you just may jump. I get scared that I could, one night, just be so frustrated that I drown them or put a pillow over their tiny faces. I won't. Even though they may have been brought into this world under false pretenses, they deserve the chance to live their life. It's theirs to have, not mine to take. Plus, I would go to jail. But I'd bet you'd be hard pressed to find someone whose never thought about killing another human being. And if you're a lady with murderous tenancies (I'm looking at you Tiffany), of course you're gonna go for your kids who are small, defenseless, and trust you.

Injurycation (pt. 6) - Percodan

My prescription ran out today and with it went the deep seated desire to talk about my sister and get philosophical. To catch you up, I am at home, wearing a leg brace and walking with a cane, putting as little weight on my right leg as I can so it can heal. No repairing necessary. When Tyler dropped me off at home we sat in the car for three hours and talked. I sat in the backseat since I couldn't bend my leg, so it was a little awkward, but really nice. He told me kids weren't a deal breaker. "A deal breaker for what?" I asked. He said "You know" then giggled like a school girl. Then I giggled and added "They're a deal breaker for me". It was like we were in high school again. But this time I'm not breaking up with him.

Brian comes home tomorrow. Not early because of my injury, just cause his assignment in Asia is over. We already have plans to go camping for Memorial Day weekend. I wonder if he even realizes I can't bend my leg. Or maybe he does.

Oh boy.

Injurycation (pt. 5) - Reasons Why

Saturday morning I woke up with a killer knee brace and Tyler asleep in a cot, next to me. Sometimes it can ruin a person to watch them sleep. Drooling on a pillow, snoring, mouth agape, farting. But Tyler sleeps like a doll. Hands under his pillow, head facing me, mouth closed, taking quiet, purposeful breaths. Beautiful.

And sad. Sad because things are so very complicated. And it's all my fault. Everyone's in this mess because of me and my heroic ideas of what a spouse and family should be. Well, to be honest, it's really my sister's fault.

When I was 13, my mother and I returned from voice lessons to find my 17 year old sister Juliette tied to a dining room chair and shot execution style. You can watch as many crime shows as you like. You can not recreate the complete shut down your body experiences when you find someone you love dead. You instantly feel responsible, like there's something you could have done.

My father came home later from his office in downtown Chicago and upon hearing the news, instantly went to work on a heavy drinking problem. The Winnetka police were quickly replaced by the FBI, but ultimately they couldn't build a case against anyone and they were on to the next big crime. My family quickly dissolved after that. My father buried himself in his work at his engineering firm and his bottle at Meier's Tavern and my mother, well, she married another man. It must have been hard to look at my father. Juliette looked just like him.

In college I thought this was my chance to make my own stable family. I chose Brian, who I thought would be reliable, and for the most part I was right. And together we would make a safe, even tempered life for us and some kids. A nice, steady, uneventful, safe life. But I realized, after Tyler came back into my life, that stability is dysfunctional. Nothing in life is stable and to think so is delusional. And what you sacrifice for "stability" is happiness, excitement, and change. I built this prison accidentally, with my own good intentions. And maybe one day, I can break it down. But for right now, I have to live in in-between land.

Injurycation (pt. 4) - Substitute Mom

Before I go on about my wonderful experiences with Dr. Brent (the preferred greeting of the good doctor), let me clarify something. I am not racist. I don’t think that that Dr. Goodarzi was a bad doctor because he is Indian. I think he’s a bad doctor because he’s over worked and can’t muster any bedside manner or diagnosis because he’s been treating people for 6 days straight without sleep. Dr. Brent is not a good doctor because he is white. He’s a good doctor because he’s at a hospital that runs like a well oiled machine and has staff that can assist him or a colleague who can relive him. That being said, the fact that one is Indian and one is white may have contributed to why one is at a well run hospital and one is at an over budget one. That is someone else's racism. Not mine.

That being said, Dr. Brent was amazing!! Not only was he handsome (is there a rule that handsome guys only hang out with other handsome guys?) but really laid back. He actually hugged me and said he had heard so many great things about me. The great things probably not including my marriage to another man and my children who I leave every Friday with a crappy neighbor so I can go to a Spanish class I am not enrolled in so I can spend romantic time with his friend Tyler.

At any rate, he was super cool and said that he wanted to schedule me for surgery to check out the damage. Which meant I would have to stay in the hospital overnight. Which meant that I couldn’t pick up my kids who probably, under the normal rules of society, should be dealt with. Now I don’t know if it’s because Tyler’s in advertising or maybe that he’s all around amazing, but that guy sprung into action. I guess sometimes when clients come to town, TadWare will set up nanny’s for their kids. This is a relatively newish thing they’ve done since the 90’s since there are a lot more women running their own companies (can you imagine the freedom? You could pay someone full time to watch your kids during the day while you go to an office and do something you love. Or at least something that makes you a lot of money!). These "modern ladies" apparently like to travel with their kids but don't want to deal with their kids. It's some sort of mom badge of honor that they can do it all, at least with the help of several other people. Anyway, he called his secretary and had her set up someone for my kids. So while I am being admitted for surgery, a nice stranger named Sally Werman is driving to Kathy’s house to pick up the kids and take them home to explain what happened, make them dinner and tuck them in bed. I hoped that maybe she'd be in her thirties, married but infertile - just the right kind of lady to fall head over mom heels in love with two kids. And they would fall in love with her too and when I got out of surgery Cody and Bekka would be standing at my bedside asking me if they could go live with Ms. Weman. And I'd say "Of course! You deserve to be happy too!".

Injurycation (pt. 3) - The Bad Hospital

The doctor at Hennepin County Medical Center, a one Dr. Sanjay Goodarzi, was delightfully hands off. Bad for my knee, great for a visit from the person you're having an affair with. When Tyler found me, his face went through hundreds of different emotions. Recognition, relief, worry, empathy, and fear. We quickly worked out that if any of the staff got specific with him, he would just say he was my husband. Then, if the doctor or any of the nurses asked his name, he would say he was "Brian". The idea was uncomfortable for the both of us, but what choice did we have (besides him leaving - which is not an option). But we really had nothing to worry about because the doctor never came back. After four hours of waiting and half assed pain management, Tyler called his friend, Dr. Brent McDougal (with a name like that, how could you not be a doctor?) who works at Abbott Northwestern Hospital and arranged for me to be transported to that hospital. I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THAT WAS POSSIBLE!! When the private transport came for me, in under an hour (!) the hospital staff at Hennepin acted personally offended that I was leaving. But there was something in their fake nice tones that indicated they had probably been through this before.

Injurycation (pt. 2)

So I am in the ambulance and I call Kathy to tell her I've been in an accident. She feigns concern then asks me when I'll be back to pick up the kids. When I remind her that I am calling her from an ambulance she says "Of course, take your time" as if I had just told her I have only one more errand to run. Then she tells me I can reimburse her for the cost of feeding the kids dinner when I am "all done". I'd tell her to take the kids back to the house and let them fend for themselves but I am afraid she'll steal something, so I told her ok and hung up on her while she was making some comment about Cody getting into her shoes. I thought of who else I needed to call. Not Brian, he can't do anything from Asia, and I don't live near my family, so I guess that just leaves Tyler. Whom I called. When I called him I greeted him with a "Hey honey" so that the ambulance driver's wouldn't know his name. It was a little bold since we weren't at the stage yet, but I honestly didn't have a choice. Tyler was so concerned that at first I didn't recognize it as concern but sarcasm, because that's how detached I am from hearing sincere concern. And then you know what that guy did? He left work and met me at the hospital.

(con't tomorrow)

Injurycation (pt. 1)

Bad things always happen to good people. And that good person is me.

Friday looked like a day right out of a romantic comedy. I was supposed to meet Tyler for lunch at Manny's Steakhouse (I like my steak how I like my happiness. Rare.) Then afterwards he was taking me to Lake Harriet for the afternoon. He said he had a very important question to ask the Elf Tree. The Elf Tree is a tiny tree with a door, and if you leave a question in the tree, days later you come back and have your answer. Apparently it was some question I needed to be with him to drop off, which leads me to believe it was about me. Romantic huh? The idea of someone doing something for me not out of holiday obligation was so exciting! So exciting that I started day dreaming about it and rear ended someone on the highway at 45 MPH. I moved the airbag but suddenly realized I couldn't move my right leg. Apparently I tore my PCL - the center ligament in the knee, necessary for things like , you know, moving your leg. Since I've had two humans exit my body I was able to handle the pain ok until the ambulance got there. They loaded me onto a gurney and the cop interviewed me about what happened. I told him I was on the phone with my kid because telling him I was "on my way to see a guy who I like more than my husband" seemed wrong. More wrong than lying to a cop.

From Resentful Mom

(con't tomorrow)

Accidentes

I just got out of the hospital. Was in a car accident. More to come when I can stay awake for a hour.

What's in a name?

Cody's favorite toy is a stuffed Big Bird doll. He named him Marcus Merriweather, and every couple of months, Marcus has a "garage sale" of Cody's things. Cody drags all his DVD's, clothes and folded bedding out, organizes them by category, prices them, then displays them on a folding table that I have to drag out from behind a million other things stacked against the wall in the garage. Cody places Marcus on a stool and then we open the garage door. Cody leaves, then comes walking in to signal the beginning of the event. It's an intense process to watch, as Cody haggles with Marcus about price (prices Cody himself set a half hour earlier) while simultaneously complimenting him on his wares. And in the end, all the things get put back. It's not like Bekka's "tent city" where she gets bored or distracted and just up and walks away from it, leaving sheets and blankets tied to the dining room chairs for me to deal with. No, no, not with Cody. The cleaning up in this pretend scenario is built in. Now that I think about it, most of Cody's pretend scenarios have to do with some sort of cleanup. There's "tornado", where he destroys his room, then comes in to help all his toys put their homes back in order, there's "life coach" where he'll come in and help his teddy Jacob Thurston turn his life around, and "maid" where he just plain cleans his room. He has to time all these right because he likes for them to all be wrapped up before 4PM so he can watch Oprah . He always makes it happen.

E-lderly

My 54 year old father just got e-mail last week. The upside is that I can "talk" to him once a week, fulfilling my obligations as a child, without actually talking to him. The downside is he's latched onto forwards like nobody's business. I usually just delete them but he's gotten good about making them look like they're not forwards anymore. I'm not sure how, but they look, at first glance, like a personal message. When you look closer, there's no address in the to: field. Anyway, today he sent me an email with no salutation or closing, just quotes about housework. I find it generally off putting to get housecleaning forwards from a man whose idea of cleanliness is waiting until things get so bad they need to be thrown away. Anyway, here they are. I think they're a good representation of the deepness of our relationship.

Anybody who doesn't know what soap tastes like never washed a dog.
- Franklin P. Jones
The classes that wash most are those that work least.
- Gilbert Keith Chesterton, 1874 - 1936
We should all do what, in the long run, gives us joy, even if it is only picking grapes or sorting the laundry.
- Elwyn Brooks White, 1899 - 1985

Spring Cleaning

Today is the start of my official spring cleaning. I know it's almost summer, but with Brian being gone and my overall busyness with another man and children, it's been tough to find time. To ensure it all gets done and this overwhelming task isn't burdening me anymore, I am enlisting/bribing the kids for help. The good news is kids are cheap labor, and for $5 a piece I can get them to do things that I couldn't hire a cleaning lady to do for $100. It's a real bargain. And they usually do a real good job. As a matter of fact, if they do as good of a job as they did last year, I am considering making this "pay-for-clean" deal a weekly occurrence. Until Brian gets back. He's of the mindset that kids should be kids, but I think, look, if they want to do some hard labor for money, isn't that a good for them too?

So.. tired.. can.. barely...type

Tonight after Cody and Bekka were asleep, I went to the liquor store and bought myself a 6 pack of Bud Light in the bottle. I sat on the back porch and just listened to the silent suburbs as I drank my watery beer and read another infuriating ladies magazine. Ahh, life is disappointing.

Happy Mother's Day

Since Denise is leaving us on Tuesday, I thought it would be nice to take her to a Mother's Day dinner tonight after she suggested that we should take her to Mother's Day dinner tonight. I made reservations for Buca Di Beppo, which is where Brian e-mailed me to take her. Well, Denise was insulted, which I totally understand. Offering to take someone to Buca Di Beppo for a celebration is like punching them in the mouth then force feeding them mediocre gnocci. I hate everything about that place. When I told her it was Brian's idea, she laughed and told me to "do better". So I made reservations for D'Amica Cucina in downtown Minneapolis.

The restaurant was amazing. I had the Butter poached chicken with seasonal mushrooms and chive risotto, Cody had the roasted lingcod, Bekka had the pancetta wrapped berkshire pork tenderloin, and Denise took down two dishes - spaghetti alla chitarra and the veal tenderloin. We barely spoke. Each moment our mouths hung empty we'd become lost in thought, reminiscing about the moment the food was in our mouth and getting excited for the next bite. A sea of calm washed over us and carried us through our deserts of truffle cake, mascarpone cheesecake torte, and frozen lime zabagilone napoleon. It was amazing. We were all getting along and the most insane part was that I was actually enjoying myself. Because no one was talking, it was like I was eating this marvelous food all by myself. The check came ($156!) and I tipped 20% (even though Brian only usually tips 15%). We walked slowly to the van, in silence, happy and full. We got in, the kids buckled up, Denise settled in, not saying a word. I turned on the classical music station. It was perfect.

And 40 minutes into the car ride, Bekka threw up pork tenderloin and three distinct deserts, erasing the fond memories I had just created.

Breaking up is hard to do

I threw away my last bag of Pepperidge Farm Milano mints. Quitting those things was like quitting smoking when I found out I was pregnant with Bekka. I'm sorry, forced to quit smoking when I found out I was pregnant. But quitting the cookie habit was 100% my decision. I am really, really, really good about eating healthy, it's about the only thing I have any control over, but those delicious, airy, fresh tasting cookies lure me in with their siren song. I'll buy a bag at the store, eat three in the car, then quickly throw the bag out the window onto Weaver Lake Rd. like they're on fire. I feel terrible about throwing them out the car window, but I'd feel worse about taking down a whole bag, "Bekka style" (she gets her compulsive eating habits from my side of the family). But today, today was my last day. I don't want to be the white lady sitting in the parking lot of Cub Foods, scarfing down cookie delights in her mini van while her kids watch. I don't want to be that lady anymore.

Girl Fight!

My "best friend"(or "the only female in a 50 mile radius who I can stand for more than 10 minutes"),Kristie Snidelou, is mad at me. She's been calling me, I assume because she's going thru a "needier phase" and needs me to hold a cell phone to my ear for an hour while I do housework and utter intermittent "Really?"'s. I just don't have the energy to deal with her and Denise, who by the way hit rock bottom yesterday with EBay when this item (photo below), an Art Nouveau Period Milk Glass Ink Stand & Inkwell, was sniped from her at the last minute. She lost her shit, yelling and screaming and dropping fbombs, said something mumbly like a gypsy curse, and that was the end of EBay. So, I am back to dealing with her 24/7 and she wants to take us all to a nice lunch today, which means no Tyler (again!). Last sidetrack, so I set up a new e-mail account on gmail, it's rachtyl@gmail.com. It's a special account where he can send e-mails to me!! Cute! I have to clear my history every day, but it feels safer than using my email.

Anyway, so Kristie, not being the most understanding or objective person, got super mad when I would text her back instead of calling her back , you know, just to let her know Denise is here and I would call her when she was gone. So then Kristie would call me the next day, leave a short, angry message to "please call me back", then I would text her, then the next day it would happen like that all over again. I guess my texting instigated her annoying behavior, culminating in this e-mail:

Rachel,

So you have time to text me but you don't have time to call me back? I need you right now and you're being a bad friend. I guess when you "have some time", call me and we can talk about this. I am really disappointed in you. You're not the type of person to let friends down.

Kristie Snidelou

The fact that she signed with her full first name is especially infuriating, it just oozes authoritarian attitude. Like she's reprimanding me.

I'll just ignore her until I am done with Denise, then I'll take Mrs. Kristie Snidelou to lunch and apologize. I may not like her, but I can't dump my friends just because they're demanding and I have nothing in common with them.

(until Tyler and I move in New York together).

From Resentful Mom

Sex and the Suburbs

Denise offered to watch the kids today while I went to lunch with some friends. I suspect her only reason being that she wanted the freedom to be on EBay and didn't want me knowing about it. So we met at Houlihan's and predictably, after everyone ordered virgin Cosmopolitans, they all started in on Sex and the City and who they were (Carrie, Miranda, etc. I said I was Ms. Garrett from "The Facts of Life") I never liked Sex and the City. I think they cast that show with ok looking women who acted pretentious so that ok looking women viewers wouldn't be offended by their cartoonish behavior and the husbands of these viewers wouldn't be attracted to the characters. Sex and the City was an ok looking womens' little coveted treasure. And now it's gone and there's nothing to replace it. So they talk about it, like a deceased friend, sipping drinks that are devoid of fun, and talking like city girls. I enjoyed watching them, "do" their little play, withholding juicy info on my new relationship with Tyler which would have made their year.

From Resentful Mom

Ebay Crazay

Where to start? Well, this is the first time I've been able to use the computer in four days. I guess Denise only has 56K Dial up at her home, so once she figured out how fast our service is here, she jumped right on EBay. You see, Denise is a hoarder. It's her dirty little secret. When you first step foot in her house everything seems in order. But upon further inspection, when you open drawers or closets, her dysfunction is in plain sight. Her number one item, depression era milk glass. She buys it like it's crack cocaine. And EBay's her pusher who has lots of product. So for four days she's been at the computer, sweating through her pant suits, hoping she wins auction after auction. She stopped today because she got a light sensitive headache from staring at the screen for so long. Although she's on the computer all day and night, at least she's not criticizing my appearance. I've found her weakness. And yes, I mean to use it against her.

From Resentful Mom

Sheeeeeee's Heeeeer

Brian's mom arrived today. Just in time to drink coffee on the patio and watch me put together the kids new swing set Brian bought on line (it's the top photo, the one with an irrational number of races represented). She just sat there, complaining about the couple next to her on the plane who insisted on watching the "raunchy movie with Woody from Cheers." After several guesses as to what the movie was and Denise's last minute addition of "bowling movie", I guessed "King Pin" to which she responded "Sure", as if she the whole time she was pressuring me to figure out the name she really could have cared less. All this before she even unpacked.

And she doesn't miss a beat. She flew right into why I didn't have non-dairy powdered creamer. Didn't I know she was coming? Didn't I know she only takes powder creamer in her coffee? Didn't I know how hard it was for her to enjoy the coffee with regular milk in it? Then she proceeded to pull out two packs of non-dairy powdered creamer out of her purse and put it in her coffee. The order of her actions confused me and made me so angry that later, when I was checking my e-mail, I did some research about powdered creamer. Apparently, when suspended in air, it's flammable. Good to know.

From Resentful Mom

PS - I gave my site a little face lift. A new subtitle in the title bar and new Twitter and Digg features. Please use them. I stayed up from 10:30 to 12:30 learning how to do them, then I got up at 5:30. I am "sleep upright at a stop light" tired.

My Hero

Last Sunday, after listening to her children bicker in the back seat of a car for God knows how long, Madlyn Primoff, told her kids to get the f out of her car. The 12 year old caught up to the speeding car, but the 10 year old's tiny little legs couldn't make it happen, so she was picked up by a passer by and taken to the police. When Madlyn came to get her daughter, she was arrested for child endangerment.

Madlyn, hats off to you. You're a resentful mom who wears her resentment proudly. This lady, from the NYT article, says it best:

"CHERYL KESSNER, a social worker who raised five children, said Ms. Primoff made a mistake, but the girls were left, for however long, in a safe commercial district, not a dangerous neighborhood. She said the reaction was as much about the overly anxious, safety-obsessed standards of suburbia as Ms. Primoff’s flawed judgment."

I'm sorry you're probably going down for this Madyln. Those throwing stones at you are surely as guilty of doing the same thing to their kids. But if they throw stones at you, they can place themselves safely on the side of "good parent". They are not brave enough to defend you. But Rachel Sochney will.

From Resentful Mom

Baby Crazy!

Who would buy this you ask? Ladies who have had several miscarriages (probably including the doll's artist Sherry Rawn). Only tragedy like that can make a woman so blind to the reality that tiny babies can't make such complicated expressions or hold their own heads up.

From Resentful Mom

Cody, is that you?

This kid bears a striking resemblance to my son Cody. Lipstick and all.

From Resentful Mom

Talk Talk

This is a conversation Bekka and I had yesterday about the children's book "The Tail of Emily Windsnap":

Bekka: So the girl Emily, her mom, let's her take swim lessons and her legs stick together in the water so one night she goes to the pier and swims and her legs turn into a tail.

Me: Oh, wow, how great would that be? Huh? To just swim away from home whenever you want. I bet sometimes you wish you could just run away.

Bekka: No I like it here. Emily lives on a houseboat and I wouldn't like that. It would rock all the time.

Me: But if you ran away, er swam away, you could do whatever you wanted. Think about it.

Bekka: But my legs can't so that mom.

Me: But if they could, would you swim away?

Bekka: I guess that would be fun.

Me: That's all I wanted to know. I mean, you shouldn't run away, but you know, it's natural to want to run away from your parents. But you shouldn't. But don't feel bad for thinking it or trying it. But don't. You understand?

Bekka: You're weird.

Me: Sure, we'll call what I am "weird".

Magazine Madness

I just got my scanner to work so I'm going to get caught up on all the ridiculous things I've been pulling out of mom magazines that I wanted to share.

This one I call "Ty Money-gton". I don't understand how Ty Pennington is qualified to be a spokesperson for baby formula.

From Resentful Mom

If this ad could talk:
"Hey, don't I help make people's dreams come true? Well I think that says it all for Similac baby formula and why you should buy it."

From Resentful Mom

Lost

We had to go to Brookdale Mall today to get Cody new khaki pants. First of all, going to the mall with kids rapes the mall experience of all its fun. To slow the kids down a bit, I always let them eat two Cinnabons (see attached photo) each. I guess in the Cinnabon excitement they forgot where I was sitting. After 10 minutes I figured they were in the hands of a responsible mall employee, so I decided to pop into the Gap and try on some cute striped sweaters in peace. I paid with the cash back I got at the grocery store since I am not allowed to buy clothes without Brian’s approval. I was heading to Macy’s for Bobbi Brown mascara when I heard the announcement for the “mom of Bekka and Cody” to report to the security center. It always makes me laugh when I am reminded that the kids don’t know my first name.

On the way home I asked Bekka why she didn’t use her new Sidekick to text me where they were and she said my phone number isn’t in her phone. I left it at that. She’ll hit me up for it if she wants it, until then, if ain’t broke, you know?

From Resentful Mom

Full Frontal

Today I went to"Spanish Class", aka "The affair I am having with my high school boyfriend Tyler". I met him at Koyi Sushi Bar (so fancy) and had salmon sushi for the first time since college (Brian thinks sushi is pretentious, even though he drives a 6 series BMW while I drive a mini van). I couldn't stop eating it! It was like butter if butter was made out of fish flesh. When the bill came it was $168 dollars!! That's more than I have saved in the secret bank account I keep from Brian. Tyler picked it up and said he had this cause "it's business". "What business?" I asked. Then he took me to Graves Hotel 601 and said "This business". Instead of giving in to the obviously awesome situation that was about to happen, I just started crying. I was instantly overwhelmed. It's hard to enjoy sex with a hot successful guy who likes you when you know your kids are staring out a window waiting for you to rescue them from a house that smells vaguely like rusting metal. I was prepared for him to slowly back away, most guys can't handle when women cry, but he sat with me and just let me cry. He didn't even try to pull a "it's going to be ok" on me. He just held me. Then he started crying. He admitted it was too soon to be doing this, but he misses me so much and just wanted to be with me, not at a restaurant or in his office. It was so sad. And really sexy. But also sad. But sexy too.

Flight of the Conchords - I'm Not Crying from Flight of the Conchords

Tales from the Bedrooooooommmmm

Bekka has developed a new nighttime fear. Closets. Apparently some dumb dumb parent let her and her friends watch Poltergeist, and for three weeks now Bekka has a nightly cry session brought on by an intense fear of being sucked into the closet. I tried explaining that you can't get sucked into a portal to the dead if you don't believe such a thing exists. She said she did, and quickly ran for my bed (cause I guess if a portal exists it can't suck her through my closet?). I personally don't believe in ghosts, but I understand that kids are kind of dumb about this stuff and so I abandoned the angle of eradicating her fear with logic. She's been crowding me out of my own bed with her need to sleep at an angle, leaving me huddled, sleepless and frustrated in a tiny corner at the top of the bed. So last night I had to end the craziness. What I decided to do was as genius as it was uncomfortable. I slept in her tiny closet. It was an awkward night. When compared to sleeping on a small plot of bed, sleeping in a child's closet is like being stuck in a men's prison. I was so tired that at a certain point in the night I cried softly, promoted by the thought of a parallel universe opening up and actually rescuing me from this. And in the morning, after I dug a Barbie shoe out of my thigh, I emerged, unharmed, proving to Bekka that there was nothing to be scared of. She seemed convinced and so we woke up Cody and all went downstairs. I tried to make breakfast, but was so tired I put eggs in the toaster and poured OJ on their cereal, which they ate. I suppose you can't be choosy if you can't make food for yourself. After I literally held my eyes open to drive the kids to their respective places of learning, I found the first shady parking spot I could muster the energy to drive to and had myself a nice three hour car nap. It was delightful.

Pixie Infestation - watch more funny videos

I see London, I see France

I sent Cody to his friend Troy’s house and less than an hour later he was back home. Apparently, this all according to Troy’s mom, Janika, Cody took it upon himself to round up some other kids in the neighborhood and play a secret game in Janika’s tool shed. If the game had a name it would be “stand in the middle of the circle, take off your pants, spin around”. From her guestimation, they were in there for a good thirty minutes, 6 of them, all boys except for little Annie Lukke, who I assume made the cut because she recently cut her own hair, making her look like a boy and confusing Cody. I told Janika we are having tests run on Cody to see if he’s autistic. I explained to her that kids with autism often times can’t make moral decisions. I’ll never have to prove it, but spreading this autism rumor may keep Cody from ending up dead on a barbed wire fence because of obviously gay behavior.

Fudgecicle

Brian’s mother Denise, who is, in so many words, cunty, overbearing, nit picky, opinionated, unbearable, cunty, unfriendly, mean, anal retentive, bossy, moody, and cunty is coming to stay with me and the kids for a week. Because I am a professional at dodging her phone calls she just called Brian directly and told him she was coming. Brian understands his mother, so much so he wouldn’t dare tell her she can’t come. Cause she’ll come anyway, she’ll just be in a bad mood when she gets there instead of her usual "hour of happiness that slowly erodes into silent bitterness". To make matters worse, she wears pantsuits all the time, a choice I find threatening. The nature of the pantsuit is formal, so to wear that particular outfit in a casual setting instantly nullifies the casualness of the environment, and I wish every environment I am in to be a casual one. You can see my dilemma, coming to breakfast in a nightgown and robe only to be met with a woman looking like she's ready for a power lunch. I wish Brian’s dad was alive to at least buffer the situation, but she drove him to death 10 years ago with constant bitterness and her critical word knives. I guess the only way to deal with it is to murder her.


And by murder I mean take pills.

Deer Gets Revenge on Hunter - watch more funny videos

Happy Birthday to Me!

Yesterday was my birthday! Yesterday was Easter! Guess which celebration was swept under the rug? I guess my birthday can’t really compete with a holiday that involves candy. I took the kids to Pilgrim Park for the neighborhood Easter egg hunt. I chose not to wear a dress, because unlike the other moms, I have not slipped into “Spring Denial”. It’s still cold outside, so I will wear jeans and Uggs and my Northface coat. And the eggs weren’t the only things painted up. You’d think these ladies took makeup advice from 80 year old bridge players. Red lipstick, red cheeks and too much eye makeup. Sheila Dreckwell was the belle of the cosmetic overload ball, and not be outdone, wore a gallon of “Romance” by Ralph Lauren, one of the worst perfumes I’ve ever had the displeasure of gagging on. Her broken down husband Greg wore a white bunny suit that was dirty, a sad sign that they owned that suit. When Shelia turned my way and slightly opened her mouth, I told her she had lipstick on her teeth. She went right for her purse, on the other side of the park. I mean, she didn't have lipstick on her teeth, but it's my birthday. I deserve break from small talk.

Not About Love from Zach Galifianakis

Re-Introduction

(Hi guys - just a reminder - am blogging for Funny or Die starting today - sorry if some of this is stuff you already know)

Happy Easter! My name is Rachel Sochney. I live in Maple Grove, MN. I’m a wife, mother of two, and spend most of my time looking for the non-existent escape hatch on this prison ship called my life. I’ve accepted the fact that the delusion of a happy, stable, middle class existence hinges on my ability to keep my sadness, anger and depression to myself. Here’s a little about my family:

Brian, my husband, is a VP of Product Development for Hormel. He’s very handsome and quite possibly sleeping with a married woman who suffers from “stripey hi-lights”. I have not confirmed this, but it is possible because Brian has been forcing us to go to church every Sunday, a sure sign of guilt. He’s in Shanghai for a month opening a new office for Hormel and trying to figure out how to “Chinese-ify SPAM”. His words, not mine.

Cody, my three year old son, has a questionable penchant for décor , fine foods, and dressing like Fred from Scooby Doo. I suspect and hope he is gay. He also loves inappropriate outburst like laughing during the sad part of a movie. When people take me to task to control his behavior, I tell them he is autistic.

Bekka, my daughter, is fat. I’ll watch her take down a whole box of Thin Mints and not even try to stop her. I like to be the skinniest lady in this house. Brian bought her a Sidekick for her birthday, a phone significantly better than mine.

Tyler Cerdus is my ex-boyfriend from high school. He works for an ad agency downtown called Tad Ware & Company. He’s recently divorced and e-mailed me a few weeks ago. We’ve had coffee and several days ago he kissed me after showing me the hilarious video of the news woman eating "it" while stomping grapes. I’ve invented a story about taking a Spanish class on Friday afternoons so I can see him every week. He could be my ticket out, but I can’t let him know that. That would scare him away.

I’m really happy to be guest blogging for Funny or Die. I’d like to end all my posts with a selected video that sums up how I’m feeling. Here’s Sunday’s:

Mauled By a Bear - watch more funny videos

Infirmary

I have food poisoning from a chicken salad sandwich I ate yesterday. I knew the chicken was bad (it was kind of gray), but I was so hungry I couldn't stop. Now today, I am being punished with a dose of vomiting and diarrhea. And guess who had to cancel her coffee date/Spanish class but yet still managed to still do 17 loads of laundry today? Rachel Sochney. Oh I threw up everytime I had to get up to load the washer and dryer, but I did it. The kids were nice to make me chicken noodle soup, that I had to secretly dump down the toilet cause I threw up in it as soon as they left the room. The worst part of it is, I just want to be left alone, in bed, and not move. But that's not the deal, is it God?

From Resentful Mom

From Resentful Mom

No Penny Pinching

I refuse to use coupons. It's not that I disagree with the idea of coupons, I just have to find subtle ways to put it to Brian for controlling the money. If that's the way he wants it, then I'll be the one buying Crest Pro Health Enamel Shield, two at a time. My only other obstacle in my mission to spend as much money as possible is the store brand savings cards. A grocery trip is not complete without a long discussion as to how it only takes a second to fill out, how much I can save today, corporate dribble, corporate dribble. I'm a smart cookie. I know what those cards do. They collect data, then you exist on paper somewhere as a series of products and days of the week and numbers. Then some marketing nerd tries to predict your shopping habits and how to market directly to you. It's a scheme, I see right through it, and it gets in my way of spending Brian's money. Instead of explaining all this to the check out girl, I tell her I can't read. It's much more effective.

Movin' on up

So I got an e-mail from a nice lady named Lauren who works for Funny or Die. I guess someone there forwarded them my blog and they must of thought it was funny, cause I'll be guest blogging for their site Sunday thru Friday! I'll be honest, I'd never heard of their site until three days ago, but after some investigation, I see they are run by Will Farrell and some other people who I am sure are famous in some way or another. I'm not sure how it's going to work yet, but I'll be posting in both places for those 6 days. My first non-paying entertainment job!!

Free at Last

Hormel is opening an office in central Asia. What does that mean to me? One whole month without Brian! He's got to open the office and figure out how to market pre-packaged pork to a culture he calls "ching chongs". Brian is what I call a "self aware racist". He knows he is using racial slurs, but does so only in our house (in front of our kids). As is standard for "self aware racists", he follows any slur with a "just kidding", as if that phrase negates anything said before it. Which it doesn't. So, it's kind of appropriate that he should have to spend an entire month amongst the very people he degrades while I have secret lunch dates with a man who surpasses him in every way.

Getting Saved

I faked being sick today to get out of going to church. I just needed 3 hours myself to think about things, but instead I watched a History Channel special about The Great Depression and then cried cause this stupid documentary trivialized my own weighty problems. It's hard to worry about how I may or may not be tearing my family apart, all while sitting in a four bedroom home we purchased for $475,000, that is almost paid for, when other people right now are loosing their homes and jobs.

Freaky Friday

Can't type long. Taking the kids ice skating. Sat in Tyler's office yesterday and ate Chinese food. Sat on vintage Knoll lounge and ate Chinese food way better than P.F. Chang's. He has a corner office with views of downtown. Beautiful views of the Mississippi River, the Edison Building, 225 South Sixth. Tyler showed me this YouTube video that made me snort (considering the views, you may have already seen it):



And then he kissed me.

Text Massage

This was on my phone this morning. I had to post it before I erased it from my phone:

secret meeting? today? please? i need more rachel. t.

Would it be too suspect if every Friday I paid Kathy to watch the kids? It actually makes sense, if you think about it, cause I've always wanted to "learn Spanish" (be happy), so why not sign up for a three hour "Spanish class" (time with someone I actually like) at the "University of Minnesota‎ Downtown" (Tyler)?

Quick(en)

I just spent three hours of my day trying to get our Bank of America checking account to automatically download transactions to Quicken. The problem has something to do with cookies getting in the way of the new updates. I will say this for the downturn, it has made customer service people, especially those at banks, especially courteous. I was shocked that no one got frustrated with me, resulting in an escalation wherein I start cry screaming, a unique skill I use with customer service people. It's not a skill, I guess, so much as a crack in my fake, mom exterior. All my sadness and frustration and stress coming out in phrases like "caaaan, i, ahh, please, ahh, talk to your suuupervisor (sniff) (blow)."

Now who do I cry to?

Movie Time

I took the kids to see Monsters vs. Aliens today, they really enjoyed it. It was all they talked about the whole way home. I couldn't participate since I exercised the old "kid ditch" where I buy myself a ticket for another movie, playing at the same time as the movie the kids are seeing, and then I let those guys go it on their own. Instead of sitting through "Monsters vs. Aliens" I enjoyed "I Love You Man" and laughed for the first time in three months (not counting my "date" on Friday which I am considering a parallel life in which events are excluded from comparison with my day to day life). The only time the "kid ditch" was a complete failure was when I didn't check the running time of "Happy Feet" and "Casino Royal". They cried for a long time, telling me they thought I had left them. I told them I would never leave them like that. I would, however,sneak out in the middle of the night with a suitcase full of clothes and an address book.

Wii (Weeeeeeee!) Pt. 2 (of 2)

(con't)
He looked so comfortable and chic and cool, and here I was in full makeup, heels and a short black dress. I must have looked like I was on a job interview. He ordered a decaf cafe au lait and sat down. We dove into some real awkward small talk, so I decided to make a bold choice and ask him how he was doing since the divorce. It was a good move. He started talking to me like an old friend. He told me he was doing really well, he and his wife were wrong for each other, he has a new found freedom and feels centered, and he's super relieved there were no kids involved. I took that as a queue to talk about my own kids. I was worried, I never told Tyler I had kids, but I proceeded anyway. I told Tyler that kids aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, one of mine is gay and the other is fat. He thought I was joking and laughed so hard he nearly knocked over his beverage. I told him I was serious and he laughed harder. I thought for sure I had just ruined this for myself by being so honest and expressing a thought most people would deem "socially unacceptable". But you know what???!!!!! He grabbed my hand and told me that it was refreshing to hear someone say something so truthful. Between his passive aggressive ex-wife and working in advertising, he's surrounded by false truths. It was so, so great. He was looking me in the eye and holding my hand very gently, which I kind of wish he wasn't doing because my hand was hot and moist from being so nervous. But he didn’t stop. He asked me if I was married, and I told him the truth. If that was going to discourage him, he didn't show it cause that guy did not miss a beat. He went right into how he can’t believe how great I look, and that I looked younger and thinner than his ex-wife, who is a yoga teacher!! We sat there for two hours, just talking! He finally had to go back to work, but asked if we could do this again. Then he hugged me, for a long time. A long time. I can live off the memory of that hug for at least two weeks. Then I need to see him again.

I'm having an affair, right?

From Resentful Mom

Wii (Weeeeeeee!) Pt. 1 (of 2)

The Wii worked like a charm. The kids have been playing "tennis" for six hours and they show no signs of stopping. Which gives me time to write about Friday. I'm too excited about it that I can't do it all in one post (plus I want to drag it out).

Saying that my coffee date with Tyler was amazing does not do it justice. I was there first, of course, trying to figure out the most casual place to put my hands(turns out around the coffee mug is the most casual). The he walked in. I knew it was him even though his hair was a little more salt and pepper, his face slightly aged, but I tell you this, I swear to GOD this man looks better now than he did at 17. He looked like if Clive Own, Daniel Craig and Hugh Jackman had their sperm fused together and then they fertilized that super hot guy sperm with an egg from Angelina Jolie. Then that baby became a man. A man I was having coffee with in secret. The only thing that could have made it better was if "Here Comes Your Man" by the Pixies started playing (in reality Avril Lavigne's "Complicated." was on, which is still relevant, I guess, but too negative and on the nose for me).

Ok, here's what he was wearing:

7 For All Mankind jeans

From Resentful Mom

Ben Sherman striped sweater

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Cool Adidas sneakers

From Resentful Mom

God Willing

Brian made us go to church this morning. It was terrible putting on a dress and pleading with the kids to get up and put on nice clothes. Brian has only done this once before a long time ago, and after that mass he and I ended up in a long conversation at Chili's, ending with his confession to me that he started dabbling in cocaine again. He went to a $10,000 a week treatment center called Hazelden in Center City, which looks less like a hospital and more like a college campus. We were engaged at that time. The week he was gone was the last time I was happy in this relationship. From the moment I picked him up, he's never mentioned his drug problem, and I never said a word about loathing him.


Based on his demeanor lately, he’s up to something else. Certainly not cocaine cause he’s not trying to have sex with me all the time (in the butt). If I had to guess, it’s whats-her-face from work, Tracie Welkey, and it has to do with where whats-her-face is putting her face (Brian’s crotch). Brian has not talked to me about it, and I don’t know if he will. If I can get more evidence, I can call him out. And once his affair is out in the open, I get my free pass to have an affair. With Tyler. Yipeeee!!!

7 Days

Despite my amazing Friday afternoon (I’ll write more when the kids aren’t all up in my business), today officially begins the 7 day patience tester I call “Spring Break (my spirit)”. It's written in some book I’m unaware of that it’s my responsibility to pack in a week full of fun for these guys just cause their teachers need a break. I’m a smart cookie though. I convinced Brian to let me buy a Wii for the kids. It’s a great video gaming system because the kids can stay active, and therefore become tired and sleepy, and it’s a video game, so they can stay involved in something other than broken record-ing he phrase "What are we doing?". With the Wii and "Monsters vs. Aliens", "Race to Witch Mountain" (and "Tyler Perry's Madea Goes to Jail", if I really, really need it), I can maybe survive this week.

From Resentful Mom

Friday I'm in Love

In honor of today's special event,(coffee with Tyler), I've just spent two hours on my hair and makeup, more time than I've spent in total on those two things this year. I am also wearing Spanx, to give the illusion that I am super skinny, not just "skinner than America" skinny. Until Tyler sees "behind the curtain", I'll keep wearing these and add another aerobics or spinning class to my daily workout routine.

I look the best I've looked in 7 years today. It's a shame that in several hours I'll be in traffic taking it all off with a baby wipe.

Pants

Brian thinks that going Macy's to buy him new business wear is fun for me. It's not. I'm not allowed a credit card to buy myself things, to reward myself for living another day, but I can borrow his card to buy him $500 in pants. I've figured out a way to make it worth my while though. I buy him pants I know he will wear and pants I want him to "try". These "try" pants are new, hip pants that he would never, in a million trillion years, be caught dead in. When I bring them home, he tries them all on then gives me the ones he doesn't like to return. When I go back to Macy's, I don't return the pants, but simply exchange them for merchandise I've placed on hold during my first trip. Now, this merchandise, my stuff, makeup, purses, shoes, clothes, have all been carefully assembled to add up to the exact amount of the returned pants. No paper trail on the old credit card, and in a month when Brian asks me what was bought at Macy's I say "Your pants!". He never even remembers the returns! It's an insane racket! And because he is a typical guy, when he sees something new on me, I can just say it's old and he feels bad that he didn't remember it! Because why would I lie to him?

Secret Coffee

Tyler finally wrote me back! Of course I responded to him right away when he e-mailed me last week, and then I started freaking out that I scared him off with my quick turnaround. Turns out he was in Sunny LA meeting with the California Raisin Board. I hate raisins, but I love sunshine and hot guys I used to sleep with! Oh God, this is crazy right? I'm having coffee with him on Friday at a place called Janine's in the warehouse district. I asked my neighbor Kathy to watch Cody and Bekka for me, so that's taken care of. Plus, she owes me in back favors for all the bandwidth she sucked off of us. So I have at least three hours to get there, make Tyler fall in love with me, then get back before 5. I can do it. Just need to dust off the old self esteem.

Phone time

You know when the last time i had an uninterrupted phone call was? 8 years ago. Children do not like it when you are on the phone. They have a special ability to sense when you need to talk to another person and then they prevent that from happening by any means necessary. All I needed to do today was to upgrade our services so Bekka's could have a data plan on her new Sidekick. That's all I had to do. But Cody would not let that happen. He kept coming in the kitchen asking for things, apples with honey on them, grilled asparagus, San Pellegrino. It's hard to deny him these things. Number one, he's demanding and number two he's really pretty cute when he's eating pretentious food.

Baby Shower!

I needed a full day to wash away the shame of Georgie's humiliating baby shower games before I could write about it. Good thing I came prepared with my flask shaped like a cell phone. Here's a short recap of the stupid games I was subjected to.

Guess Mom's Tummy Size: Everyone cuts a string they think will be the measure of the mother-to-be's stomach. I cut mine really long, to insinuate that Georgie was huge. People did not think that was funny.

Never say "Baby": Everyone wears a demeaning yarn necklace of safety pins. Whenever someone says "baby", you call her out for breaking the one rule of "Never Say Baby" and then she has to give you one of her pins.It was the only competitive game of the afternoon and it didn't matter that I was aggressive and angry when playing it. I won.

Who Can Make The Mother-To-Be's Baby: Everyone goes through magazines and they cut and paste from different ads parts of a baby to put together a collage of what they think the baby will look like. I made my baby have a Ziplock bag for a head. Deborah laughed, no one else did.

Guess The Gerber's: Adults eat unlabeled baby food and try and guess what the food is. I don't eat carbs, so I didn't play.

Bottle Races: Grown women race to finish drinking from a baby bottle. I pointed out that bottles are just man made versions of human breasts, so in essence they are sucking on a teet. That killed the game. Hooray!

During a rousing game of "Guess Whose Baby Photo is Whose" I found solace in my safe place, the bathroom. I pretended that I didn't feel well before I excused myself. That bought me at least 30 minutes, so I took a 15 minute power nap on their shower rug, and then while I was checking out their medical goods I found herpes medicine under her sink. And guess what, I don't think Georgie is having a C-Section, which means that baby's first taste of the outside world is the taste of herpes, whatever that tastes like.

Thomas Kin-crap

Thomas Kinkade, "Painter of Light" represents everything I hate about Maple Grove. The fact that a Thomas Kinkade gallery even exists here is proof positive that this is hell. If you're not familiar with his use of idealism and sentimentality to sell paintings via mail order and franchises to dumb dumbs, consider yourself lucky. Unlike my counterparts here, I have a minor in Art History, which makes Thomas Kinkade especially excruciating to talk about. When Thomas comes up, usually because someone has a TK "painting" (a TK painting is a print where hilights have been painted on by "skilled craftsmen"), I try to change the conversation to quality impressionist painters like Manet. Which elicits the response "You mean Monet". I take that as my cue to admit that I misspoke and when my face turns red with anger I feign an allergy to whatever is being served. A lot of ladies in Maple Grove think I am allergic to smoked salmon mini cheesecakes, feta cheese tartlets, potstickers, prosciutto-wrapped asparagus,bruschetta, tiny pizzas and deviled eggs.

From Resentful Mom

Bri Time

After dinner last night the kids wanted to watch Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. I'm always game for a little Johnny Depp action, and the kids love it, so everyone wins. Except for Brian. I think he has the ability to sense when my hormones increase, which happens every time Johnny Depp comes on screen. Johnny Depp scene = hard, one armed hugs from Brian. In addition to mathematical affection, Brian participated in a game the kids play that I call "Ask mommy to get things from the kitchen with baby voices". Cody started it with a "Mommy, mommy appie juice!", Bekka followed with a "Mommy, mommy Oreos and ice Cream and candy canes!" and Brian ended it with a "Mommy, mommy popcorn!". Then he smiles and shrugs his shoulders like "I'm adorable, right?". On a day to day basis, my hate level for Brian is at a low 4. But when he pulls shit like this, moves he thinks are cute and loving but are just plain needy, that indicator zooms to a 10 (this is a 10 point scale). It's times like this where I think about shooting myself in front of all of them, so they have to live forever with the image of what they pushed me to.

From Resentful Mom

It's the Grind!

My real level of stress comes out at night.

Hamburger Help Me

I am at the end of my rope making fresh, healthy, meals that take me an hour and half to prepare. If these people want me to cook for them every night and clean up, they're going to eat something that came from a box. Enter Hamburger Helper. According to their website, they have 45 different options, if you count Tuna Helpers and Chicken Helpers. That means for a month and a half, I can make a different dish every night that takes me less than 30 minutes. And while I am making it, I will eat my secret dinner of fresh salad and grilled fish.

Baby Crazies

Saturday is my friend Georgie's baby shower. It's her first baby and hopefully her last (or maybe she'll have a third trimester miscarriage). This woman should not have input on anything impressionable. Georgie can be summed up with this set of words: hi-lights, Escalade, appletini's, pink, bling, Irish Catholic, spray tan, cleavage, over extended.

She sent out her registry list and I've spent the last hour trying to find a gift under $100. If I can't, I am not afraid to show up empty handed and site the economic depression, and I bet you I won't be the only person. Which means Georgie will cry and take it as a sign that we don't love her (which is kind of the truth). I don't care. She cries a lot. It's the typical MO of a woman who wears heels to wash a car. Here's some of the pretentious and tacky baby crap she hopes we will buy her:

A pink studded pacifier $120:

From Resentful Mom

You can only buy this thing on a website called Aristabra.com. This will be one businesses I hope gets taken down by the economic slow down.



Cashmere baby blankets $190:

From Resentful Mom

People who make this know babies throw up, right? Available on another pretentiously named website ElegantRoots.com. The copy on this photo is hilarious.



Juicy Diaper Bag $298:

From Resentful Mom

This will shock you. Available only at Neiman Marcus.



Gucci baby carrier $895:

From Resentful Mom

If you can afford this why would you even carry your baby?

Blast from the Past

I'm in shock. My high school boyfriend e-mailed me. I can't believe what it said:

Hey Rachel,

It's Tyler Cerdus. Your high school prom date. Do you remember me? I was thinking about you last week. My wife and I divorced six months ago and well, it took a while for me to unpack. Saturday I was unpacking a box of photos and out fell a prom picture of us. We look so young and happy! Not as happy as prom night. That was way more fun ;) You we're so beautiful and between you and me, of all the girls I've been with, no one has anything on your perfect ass. I'm surprised to see you are married with kids. I thought for sure you'd be a famous artist living in New York City. I'm an ad exec at Tad Ware & Co. Want to get coffee?


Tyler

I have always dated hot guys, at the expense of the companionship of an intellectual equal (including Brian). But Tyler, oh Tyler, he was perfect. Smart, confident, and super super super super hot. I broke up with him three weeks before graduation because I didn't want to be tied down in college. Hilarious right, for a woman who is now imprisoned by a lifestyle created by her own unwillingness to object to the events confining her.
Yeah, I am totally having coffee with him.

Good Eats

My new plan for Bekka, post birthday, is to ween her off the junk food. Not so she'll get healthy, I am just curious as to if she's naturally fat or fat from eating. If she's not lost weight in 6 weeks, I know for sure her weight problems are out of my hands and I will let her eat whatever she wants. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited about the possibility of watching her destroy herself with food.

Birthday #2

My enemies change form day to day. The mailman, who leaves important mail sticking out of the box to get wet while somehow shoving circulars into the dryer areas. The Schwan's Man who, after delivering our month’s supply of turkey pot pies, exits while saying “Better put some meat on those bones or you might blow away in the wind”. He says it like being skinny is a bad thing (it's not!). Or the CenterPoint meter reader who not only never closes the gate, may have taken a poop in my backyard. But today I faced my biggest adversary - other moms.

Mom's treat birthday parties as an open season for unsolicited advice. I'd rather have nuclear weapons tested on me than listen to a group of women criticize how I put birthday candles on a cake. Theresa Fendlik, mother of booger eating Stacie, told me I should of had cupcakes instead of a sheet cake - it's less messy & everyone gets the flavor they want. Suzan Funk, mother of neurotic Jacqueline, told me I spent too much money on Dora the Explorer decorations at Party City when they're 10% cheaper at Party America. Gladys Rockerfeller, who is not an 85 year old trustee as her name might imply, is the mother of Stella Rockerfeller, a small child suffering from pica, a medical condition where, in her case, she eats garbage and paint. Gladys said nothing to me, she was too busy keeping Stella away from the trash. However, she did manage to nod her head and utter an “uh huh” when she agreed with one of the other mothers. After 4 hours of 7 year old chaos and 30-35 year old lady hating, I sat back on the couch, exhausted, staring at the gaggle of ladies and I prayed that God would force my claw foot iron tub through the ceiling, crushing the waste-of-space bitches sitting at my dining room table. He did not. Next time God, you better kill someone when I ask you to. Or I am done with you.