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.

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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."

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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.