Wednesday, December 31, 2008

The One Where She Says 'Adios' To Her Ass

My favorite Homer Simpsonism is when Bart says to Homer:
"Daaa-ad, I'm tired of your half assed attempt at being a good father."
to wit Homer replies:
"Hmmm, I was using my whole ass."

****************just click the links to follow along**********

That, my bloggy friends is the way I feel about 2008. It was using its whole ass. And I, for one, am glad to see it go.

I have been in a funk lately - since about Halloween. Nyaah, who am I kidding - I've been in a funk since like 2007. This year has just beaten my spirit.

You happy 2008? Yeah, I'm talkin' to you, 2-oh-oh-effin8! You think you're all "ooh, I'm a big happy new year with all my curvy roundness and potential prosperity...Just wait all you revelers - go blow your noisemakers and drink your tiny bubbles - You'll wish you were gonna party like it WAS 1999..." and BLAMMO!

First you took my wonderful dad.
Then you took my Thyroid (D.A.C.) and parathyroid glands (apparantly by accident)
You left me without a voice, numbed my extremities, and solemnized my spirit.
You made me think about friendship and what that really means all the while sending your own unique 2008 brand of whoop-ass their way. (for anyone who is counting - 3.5 divorces, a couple of admitted (or discovered) addicts, 2 cases of cancer, one brain tumor, and one death).

Am I just wallowing in my own self pity? Or, as my oldest friend Cheryl (literally 5 seconds ago)tells me, that although I am depressed and feel intense sadness - it makes me all the more capable of feeling joy and real happiness as well. I guess so and I hope that is true. Extreme emotion on either end of the spectrum is draining. And, quite frankly - I am tapped out.

But- in my effort to fight back you gave me this. This other place I call home. It all came to me in a dream back in February of this shitty year. Aroused from a pain killer induced slumber - I woke up with my first post and wrote it in about 22 seconds. Literally. I could call it my new hobby, or addiction, or obsession - whatever. But this is a place where I can vent and share - no reprisals. I like this place, and if some don't understand it - screw 'em.

2008 brought us a year frought with political tumult and economic cirisis and Olympic excitement of epic and historic proportion.

2008 also sent me here- which totally didn't suck in any way shape or form (other than the frickin' roosters and all that cock-a-doodle doo-ing) .

2008 also filled me full of laughter and joy of the parental kind. My girls are wonderful and I always take 50% of the credit for them (guess who gets the other 50%?). And although they are not perfect - they are damned near perfect. And, they are getting older and more challenging and scaring the shit out of me on a daily basis. And sometimes I am such an ass-mom. I've really got to resolve to watch my temper and my sharp tongue as regards the girls. I should be more aware of how my words effect them. (thanks Sunny, for posting something so deeply personal and making me think. Hard.)

So good riddance to you - you shitty year. I say 'Adios' to this ass of a year - and I resolve to say 'Adios' to my big fat ass (and belly and thighs)as well.

Let's raise our cyber glasses , get ready for the what will inevitably be another year full of the unexpected - and to that I say "Cheers!" And when you're nursing your cheap champagne hangover tomorrow morning while watching the Tournament of Roses Parade followed by hours of college football - do what I am doing. Wishing you all a happy, prosperous, healthy and simple 2009.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Friday's Favorite Foto - Holiday Edition

Hope everyone had a wild Hanukwanzamas!
And your children enjoyed their gifts as much as mine did.

For more Friday Foto Fun - pop on over the Candid Carrie's !!

Monday, December 22, 2008

The One in Which She's Been There, Done That

I've seen this floating around and I decided to steal borrow it. I've been having a tough time coming up with original , thought provoking material lately - so I 'd thought I'd use this 'Been There Done That' device and stir up a martini the creative juices in my blogorhythms. This is the time of year when bloggy friends are coming up with meaningful content ...Christmas wishes, and memories and good will toward men....but I am lame and as such I am doing this instead.

What you're supposed to do is:

Things you've done: Bold
Things you want to do: italicize
Things you haven't done and don't want to - leave in plain font

1. Started your own blog. ('re here aren't you?)
2.. Slept under the stars. (as in really slept or passed out? either way , I'm in on this one)
3. Played in a band - or musical. (loved performing!)
4. Visited Hawaii. (just last October!)
5. Watched a meteor shower. (and a lunar eclipse, and a solar eclipse through the little hole in the paper gadget)
6. Given more than you can afford to charity. ( in the spirit of the season, aren't we all supposed to italicize this?)
7. Been to Disneyland/world - (Both- going next month for the little one's 5th bday).
8. Climbed a mountain. (in a car, van, aerial tramway, bus..but never in the literal sense)
9. Held a praying mantis. (eeeewwww, bugs)
10. Sang a solo. (reference #3)
11. Bungee jumped. (no frickin' way)
12. Visited Paris.
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea.
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch. (I am using the word 'art' quite loosely here)

15. Adopted a child. (maybe some time later in life...but not now)

16. Had food poisoning.
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty.
18. Grown your own vegetables. (I actually have a rogue lima bean plant right now)
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France.
20. Slept on an overnight train.

21. Had a pillow fight. (complete with flying feathers and everything!)
22. Hitchhiked.
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill.

24. Built a snow fort ( I grew up in the Boston area...)
25. Held a lamb. (the real deal, not just the chops)
26. Gone skinny dipping.
27. Run a Marathon. (no frickin' way)
28. Ridden a Gondola in Venice.
29. Seen a total eclipse. (does solar count?)
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset.
31. Hit a home run. (are we being literal or figurative here?)

32. Been on a cruise.
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person.
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors. (if New Jersey counts...)
35. Seen an Amish community. (no toilets? seriously?)
36. Taught yourself a new language. (if you count jibberish )

37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied. (everything is relative)
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person.
39. Gone rock climbing.
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David.
41. Sung karaoke. (loudly, sometimes drunkenly and pretty well, I might add)
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt.
43. Bought a stranger a meal in a restaurant. (does Dunkin' Donuts count?)
44. Visited Africa.
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight. (I.Love. the. Beach)

46. Been transported in an ambulance. (Xmas eve 2006- gallstones)
47. Had your portrait painted. (only if they can get my good side)
48. Gone deep sea fishing.
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person.
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris.
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling. (and I don't deep water well, so this in and of itself is quite a feat)
52. Kissed in the rain. (romantic!)
53. Played in the mud. (and I don't do dirt well, either)
54. Gone to a drive-in theater. (When we were kids, we used to all the time - do they even have these anymore?)

55. Been in a movie. (I was an extra in a Jon Cryer movie)
56. Visited the Great Wall of China.
57. Started a business.

58. Taken a martial arts class. (does watching Kung Fu Panda like 67 times count?)
59. Visited Russia.
60. Served at a soup kitchen.
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies. (no- but ate plenty of them)
62. Gone whale watching. (but I have visions of rough seas and hurling and the romance seems to escape this idea)
63. Gotten flowers for no reason.
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma. (now , they won't take it)
65. Gone sky diving. (are you outta your frickin' mind?)
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp. (chilling and reviling and I actually vomitted)
67. Bounced a check. (who hasn't ??)
68. Flown in a helicopter. (are you for real here? this is swirlgirl we're talking about)

69. Saved a favorite childhood toy. (I have saved a few books for my daughters)

70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial.
71. Eaten Caviar. (NY's Eve tradition for me!)

72. Pieced a quilt. (hubby's grandma was a master quilter and we all have personalized ones)
73. Stood in Times Square.
74. Toured the Everglades.
75. Been fired from a job.
76. Seen the Changing of the Guard in London.
77. Broken a bone. (4 fingers on one hand at the same time)
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle. (not even on a non-moving one)
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person.
80. Published a book.
81. Visited the Vatican.
82. Bought a brand new car.

83. Walked in Jerusalem. ( I know I should want to - but I have NO interest in doing this)
84. Had your picture in the newspaper. (several times)
85. Read the entire Bible. (same at #83)

86. Visited the White House.
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating. (no way - jews don't hunt unless it's for a good bargain or a good bagel)

88. Had chickenpox.
89. Saved someone’s life. (once I rescued a girl from a swimming pool)
90. Sat on a jury. (had jury duty but was never impanelled)
91. Met someone famous. (can you say rhymes with Blorge Gooney?)
92. Joined a book club.
93. Lost a loved one. ( I really wish this one wasn't in bold)
94. Had a baby. two wonderful little girls
95. Seen the Alamo in person. (I would like to see more of Texas than just Dallas)
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake.
97. Been involved in a law suit.
98. Owned a cell phone. (don't we come prewired these days?)
99. Been stung by a bee. (stepped on one once)

So- I've been there and done a lot of that...How about you??

Friday, December 19, 2008

Friday's Favorite Foto

I love little girls' imaginations. The way they play and act like grown-ups when they think nobody is watching them.

and then, just when they realize they are playing to the camera....

They go and do something like this!
Yup! That's how we "tea party" around here!
Lips down and pinkies up!
for more foto fun - go visit Carrie's place

Friday, December 12, 2008

Do You Hear What I Hear?

So my sisterbestfriend had these little thingies taken off her vocal chords the other day. Nothing to be that concerned about (?)...she has had a strained hoarsey voice for several months now - and went to a ENT who stuck something up her nose to see and 'Voila' ...nodules on her vocal chords.

About 40 years ago - our dad had this too. He had to have them removed and couldn't speak for a few days. We called him 'Frankenstein' because he had a scar that went practically from ear to ear and little sutures that resembled the bolts that were on the monster. Then, he had to go to a therapist to learn how to talk correctly - - from the diaghragm not the throat. Maybe that's just about the time Daddy developed and perfected 'The Poppy Face' - a scowly lowered brow menacing look that could capapble of extracting the truth out of even the most verdant liar. In those days...they cut you open for this type of procedure. Nowadays - they go in through the nose and snip*snip - it's over in less than an hour.

So my sister had this done on Wednesday. The rule was she couldn't talk for 48 hours and then has to be on vocal bedrest for about two weeks. And, if you know my sister - not talking is harder than , I don't know - not breathing!! The. Woman. Likes. To . Talk. Add to that she talks for a living, and not just for sport and she has a cell phone where her ears should be - and this will be the longest 48 hours in her life!

So we make a plan - since she can't talk...she can either just blow into the phone - or better yet, she can *beep* once for yes and *beep*beep* twice for no.

So I call her and ask her if how she is feeling (*beep*) if she got good drugs (*beep*beep*) and if this no talking thing is killing her (*beep*). I realize that in order for this 'beeping' plan to work, I have to ask questions answerable with a simple yes or no answer. Having failed miserable at that - since , to me, nothing worth asking is answerable with a simple yes or no - I decide to email her.

I write that for me it would be no problem and how I would love not to talk to anyone for two weeks....she responds that she would rather not listen to anyone for two weeks. Ha-Ha!!

So then it got me thinking (which is always a dangerous thing)- as to the difference between speaking and talking and the differences between listening and hearing...I like to think of myself as someone who speaks and listens rather than someone who simply talks and hears. No offense to my sisterbestfriend - but she talks more than she listens.

If there was one gift I could give my children - it would be the gift of listening. That means really taking an effort to hearing something, comprehending, processing, paying attention - whatever you want to call it. That means not formulating your next sentence in your head in mid-conversation...that means not asking a question unless you are willing to wait and hear the answer...that means being patient....that means caring...that means empathy....that means everything.

To listen well, is as powerful a means of influence as to talk well, and is as essential to all true conversation Chinese Proverb

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Phun With Phood

"Hey baby, where you 'bean' all my life?"

Just another trip to the clean plate club with the occasional dip in the hot water and a touch of seasoning along the way!

...for more photo fun, pop on over the Carrie's place!

What's Up With This Thing?

Hey Blogger -
Why won't you let me post any comments today?
I'll be good, I promise! (fingers crossed behind back)

It's like you have something against the second part of the alphabet or something. I seem to be able to comment on A thru L of my daily reads...but not the others.

So to all of you who did not receive a comment from me today - and I know how that just wrecked your whole fricken day (the not getting my comment part) all I have to say is:

"awww", "that slayed me!", "what about the others?" , "very clever" , "wish we had smell-a-vision", "bah-humbug", too bad those mice don't sing like Alvin and his 'munks so you could make some big money", and "that's what I call a brain fart".

Maybe that's been the problem all along. All of my eleventy billion readers (thanks Anna for teaching me how to do that!) have had trouble leaving comments ...and all those advertisers who want to send me free stuff to test and give away can't visit me because Blogger has it out for the second half of the alphabet! I need to change my name from swirlgirlsrealname to something that starts the letters A-L.... any suggestions?

...tune in tomorrow for some photo phun!!

Saturday, December 6, 2008

The One in Which She Has to Represent

Each year at some point in my life, I have had to be the one to check the calendars. The token, if you will. The wiser on the subject. The Chosen One. All eyes will look to me to whip out my handy calendar of customs and practices and see what is what and when. Whether it be a school function, a soccer practice, a PTA meeting, a meeting for work(when I actually did things and got paid for doing them) - I am the one who was the gate keeper to all things Jewish. Even here in the cyber meeting world - I have been called upon to "represent" for my peeps. And, as I am forever channeling my inner Linda Richmond - I will do so with as much seriousness as I do most things.

Hell, I can't get through a day without letting out some self-deprecating humor or a good yiddish expression. Or ten. Oy Vey - see? There I go again.


This was a typical conversation with me and my calendar in the days of yore...

Me: "We can't have that meeting on that Tuesday after 5:00pm in September, it's the first night day of Rosh Hashana"

n.j.. Boss* "but my calendar says it is on Wednesday.

Me: " Yes, n.j. Boss, it does - but the Jewish calendar is lunar, with each month beginning on the new moon. And the rest of the world operates by the solar calendar. This is because a Jewish "day" begins and ends at sunset, rather than at midnight. If you read the story of creation in Genesis Ch. 1, you will notice that it says, "And there was evening, and there was morning, one day." From this, we infer that a day begins with evening, that is, sunset. Holidays end at nightfall of the date specified on most calendars; that is, at the time when it becomes dark out, about an hour after sunset. And, the Jewish day begins at sunset the night before the day of the holiday. When the mathematical calendar says that a holiday starts on Wednesday, it actually means that the holiday starts on Tuesday night. So in actuality we can't have that meeting until Friday because Rosh Hashana is a two day holiday and ends Thursday night....

n.j. Boss: {{crickets}}

me: "...and don't ask me why sometimes the holidays are in September and sometimes in October...and how sometimes Christmas and Hanukah coincide and sometimes they are weeks apart. I was never very good at the Metonic system......"

n.j. Boss: oh jesus mary joseph swirl girl - when can we schedule the meeting?

me: ...I'll consult the Talmud and get back to you on that n.j. Bossman.

For observant Jews who work in the secular gentile world, this can be problematic in some years: if all of the non-working holidays fall on weekdays (as they sometimes do), an observant Jew would need to take 13 days off of work just to observe holidays. This is more vacation time that some people have available. But don't get me wrong - sometimes this came in handy. We got to take the regular national holidays as well as the important Jewish holidays off from work!



So let's start with Hanukah, since it is coming at us faster than a bunch of jews lined up in front of the Two for One Sansibelt sale at Jacks for Slacks in Boca Del Vista .....(self deprecating jew joke) - Contrary to popular sitcom folklore, we don't all move to Florida (a.k.a. God's Waiting Room ) when we retire, and suddenly wear polyester stretchy pants. We don't all talk like Seinfeld's parents, suddenly find orange an attractive hair color, and play mah jong. Well, some of us don't anyway. ( I fear it's a genetic predisposition..)

Anyway - Hanukah, also known as the Festival of Lights, is a holiday to commemorate the rededication of the Temple desecrated by the Greeks in ancient Syria a wicked long time ago. According to the story - when the Greeks , led by Antiochus and his hoard of Greek guys blew into town, they oppressed the Jews ( oy, vat else is new?) by trashing their 'hood, prevented them from practicing their religion - and even sacrificed pigs in their Temple. Now- a Jew named Judah Maccabee didn't like those Greeks gettin' jiggy with the piggy in his house - got together with his boyz and decided it was time for the 'throwdown'! The Jew crew defeated the Greeks and it was a mitzvah. But, when it was time for the rededication of the Temple, legend has it that there was not enough oil to light the menorah , or candelabrum, which was supposed to burn throughout the day and night. Miraculously - the little they had lasted 8 days and 8 nights. (such a deal-and you know how we jews like a good deal!) Hanukah celebrates that miracle of the lights, not the victory over the Greeks. We're a peace loving people y'all.

Most people know Hanukah, not because of its religious significance (it really isn't that religiously significant to begin with) , but because of its proximity to Christmas. In fact, the only religious ceremony is the lighting of the menorah itself. The whole gift giving thing is a relatively modern answer to the Christmas tradtion of gift giving. (can you say 'jealous much'?) And while all of you out there need additional square footage or another garage just for the boxes of ornaments, the prestrung Martha Steward artificial spruce and the inflatable Rudolph and Frosty yard snowglobe...we get to go into the cabinet over the fridge (that is reserved for stuff you don't use because you can't reach it) pull out our menorah (and we usually have two or three homemade firetraps from preschool) and a box of candles- and maybe a little dreidle ; a game whereby contestants spin a square wooden top to win some (really gross tasting) chocolate coins a.k.a. Hanukah gelt.

Sounds festive doesn't it? We might even get crazy and fry up some Latkes (potato pancakes) - and this year, because we've been very, very good...we'll serve those with applesauce and sour cream! Wheeee!

On the first night of Hanukah around here - after we've lit the 1st candle on the Menorah, opened one present ('cuz we have 8 frickin' nights of this my friends) kids like to put on their the Burl Ive's claymation classic of...(uh, not for us) hop in the car (sans carseats and seatbelts)... pop our favorite carols into the c.d. player- (no wait, we don't have any of those.)..and drive around the 'hood checkin' out Christmas junk, er um , sorry - I mean decorations! ***

So there you have it. 2000 years of history and tradition as interpreted by your favorite (or perhaps your only) cyber Jew! If you think Hanukah was fun...just wait until springtime for the interpretive dance of the Pascal lamb and the Matzoh!

* n.j. stands for non-jew
**much of this post was, um adapted from the site Judiasm 101.
***and no it's not okay to have a tree or lights or decor when you don't celebrate Christmas people. Blue and white lights hanging from your eaves and mailbox do not mean Hanukah. If you put up lights and junk, how will Hanukah Joe know where the Jews live? How would he know whose sliding glass doors are open so he can sneak in and leave some gelt and a dreidle under the pillows of good little kinderlach? Huh? I guess he could wait until Christmas Eve, and just got to the local Chinese restaurant and movie theaters. Because that's what Jews do on Christmas Eve. Gotta Represent.

Oh yeah- and let's send a Chchchchchchappy (summon up all yer phlegm folks, we are a very phlegmy people- what , with all those years of walking in the desert and all) Birthday to my sister in Florida! She is not retired, and does not have orangey blonde hair (yet)...and I wish I could celebrate her 48th with her!

Friday, December 5, 2008

Friday's Foto

I don't know why- but I just love this picture. Maybe it's because my girls are fearless and I am full of fear. Maybe it's because my girls it's because they have an uncanny ability to scare the shit out of me. ("Be - put your foot to the let them go up there with no shoes?...okay, that's far enough!) Maybe it's because their sense of wonder and discovery is just what it should be - childlike and unsatiable.

For more Friday foto fun, hop on over to Carrie's place!

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

We Bad ! Fo Shizzle! Yeah Boyz!!

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

Have a Hip Hop Hanukah

the Hip Hop Hanukah Hora is Happenin!

visit the SITS girls for more holiday fun.

the video is up there 'cuz I am so BAD that I can't get it to be down here.....

for some more {hicup} holiday cheer - check out the Good Little Swirls and Boyz over there to the right....Linky Love to all.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Happy SITSnukah

******BREAKING NEWS******
The Grand Prize for tomorrow's Merry SITSmas is:
YOUR Blog Featured as our Friday Favorite and....
A $200 Target Gift Card!

That's 3/4 of the way to a Wii-eeeee!

I am not sure what else I have to do - hope it's not sharing my fondest Christmas memories, 'cuz- uh, I'm Jewish.

so how 'bout some channeling some Hanukah love SITSas!!

Monday, November 24, 2008

The One Where Swirl Girl Actually Unfurls

EDITOR'S NOTE: Tuesday's post will come to you over at Even The Nice One's...who has asked my to guest post for her while she's preparing for some very special Thanksgiving guests. And, I was still a little unfurled when I accepted the challenge, so ...Caveat Emptor, Nice One...

It's probably not the best idea to blog when one is in a foul mood. But what the hell, it's my party and I'll blog if I want to. And if I limit my blogging to only those moods in which I am not in a foul mood...well, I'd post about once a month.

For some reason, I am foul :

No wins, two losses , one tie ....between Hubby and his brother, Progesteban* in terms of the successes of marriages to which they have stood up as Best Men. Remember a while back I posted about a friend of Hubby's whose horrid wife gave him shit because he wanted to spend time with his dying mother? Well, now she is throwing the "D" word around. He's so better off without her. She is trash. I hope he serves the papers to her first - so he protects himself from her scournful awful self.

By the way, Hubby counts for one win and one loss on Progesteban's side. Before me, he was married once loooong ago. Married on Memorial Day and divorced by Labor Day of the same year.

*Progesteban is Hubby's brother's nickname . Real name Steven, the metrosexual bachelor totally in touch with his feelings that I coined this name.

I can not fathom (thank goodness) being in a position of hating someone so much that I am willing to throw in the towel. Another friend is going through a divorce - and a nasty one as well. I sympathize with both, but can't empathize - 'cuz I have never been in that position and hope never to be. Although, truth be known -I've been such a harpy lately that Hubby might just want to toss my whiney ass out the door right now!


2012 save the date --W.T.F ? We got a letter from our temple that the 2012 Bat Mitzvah dates are open and must be reserved now. Two Thousand and Twelve? Seriously? I am just starting to plan Thanksgiving 2008 for crap's sake - and I am supposed to pick a date in Twenty-twelve?

So - we did (by the way, September 8, 2012 - mark your calendars) and I start to think about being across the country from our old friends and entire family...and then I start thinking about how much can change in 4 years and who (god forbid) may or may not be with us in 4 years and I get really depressed.

Hubby and I start to 'talk' about who we would invite and who may or may not come and then stop ourselves and he says "I can't believe we are even having an argument about whether or not my mother would get on a plane and come out to California for her grand daughter's Bat Mitzvah"

And we are out of chips and the Halloween candy stashed in the freezer and I get really, really depressed.


I was totally insulted by a stranger on Friday. My neighbor had a little cocktail party for women (note to self: anything billed as 'for women only' with alcohol is just another way to sell AmwayArbonneSilpadaCookieLee so stay away!!) the other night and since I live across the street, I had no "I can't get a babysitter" or "I don't like to drink and drive" excuse. So I went. One of the women there totally dissed me. Twice. The first time was when I told her I was blogging (and then had to explain what blogging was , but not in an informative kind of way, but in a defensive way) and this woman says to me ...get this: "You're husband let's you blog?" I was all "I don't ask permission" and "it's no different than emailing or talking on the phone". What kind of relationship do you have lady? You ask your husband permission to have your own life? What, do you ask for forgiveness if you forget to put his pipe and frickin' slippers next to his chair before you put on your frickin' 1950's Harriet Nelson apron and mill your own frickin' wheat?

Then - later in the evening - when we were talking about kids and school and what not, she looks at me and says "You don't have kids in school do you? Yes, I have a 9 year old and a 4 1/2 year old. "You do?" she says all indignantly "I swore you had kids in high school or college" ( which is a passive aggressive way of saying I look tired and old). I swear if I was a dog, one of my little dog ears would have gone up and one would have gone down and my head would have cocked to one side (no , I think it actually did) like I just heard two alley cats rumbling in the streets...My neighbor, sensing the impending tongue lashing about to ensue, tried to intercede - saying something to the effect of "because of your calm , cool, collected air -you couldn't possibly have such young children . She mistook you for a well balanced, experienced domestic goddess much older and wiser than you are!" I am all "Oh, yeah? (chest bump) bitch's time for a throwdown. Drop that Pomegranitini and pull up your bra straps 'cuz it's time for some whoop-ass!"

But, my better senses got hold of me - or I am just too old and tired to be that full of piss and vinegar that I said it was time to leave 'cuz I had some blogging to do...fodder, indeed.
Have your husband read this to you, dearie...

Saturday, November 22, 2008

The Fabulous One...

Many thanks to The Nice One at Even the Nice Ones for bestowing this fabulous award on me.

She and I both have sexy blog cartoon selves so we are real tight. I don't know about her in real life, but my waist is indeed that tiny and my boobs are indeed that perky.
What I have to do is this:

1. You have to pass it on to 5 other fabulous blogs in a post.
2. You have to list 5 of your fabulous addictions in the post.
3. You must copy and paste the rules and the instructions below in the post.

Instructions: On your post of receiving this award, make sure you include the person that gave you the award and link it back to them. When you post your five winners, make sure you link them as well.

The hard part of this for me is choosing only my fabulous addictions, not my run of the mill (read: sometimes illegal and always illicit) -not so fabulous here goes:

5. addicted to soap operas since I was 11. Something about Luke Spencer and Laura Weber and those discoteque lights and Herb Alpert's "Rise" got under my craw back then. Hell, - it's over 30 years ago, and while I don't actually watch them any more ...I still check for updates on my ABC addictions. You know your old when your favorite character's children are the new 'it' couple.

4. My acrylic nails....oh yeah - I got me some loverly french manicure and have for oh so many years. I don't even know what my real nails look like. Even in this economy - I'd give up lunch (yeah, that's it - lunch !) everyday for my fingernails. Too bad my kids will go hungry without their packed lunchboxes, but my nails still look fabulous.

3. Salt and Grease...sure I love chocolate, but my first and always preferred snack addiction is chips, chips and chips. Something about the combo of lightly salted-hydrogenatedly-oiled potato or corn products really makes me happy. Add to that a coating of 'processed cheese food' and I am all squealy with joy. (side note: just how many cheetos do you eat before you lick your fingers, anyway?)

2. Reality TV...maybe because there is such a lack of original programming these days, but I can't wait for AmericanIdolSoYouThinkYouCan DanceProjectRunwayTopChef to come on each week. Oh, and I'd like to thank my DVR for making it all possible.

...and my number one Fabulous Addiction is - as if you didn't already know:

1. Blogging. I have B.O.C.D. - Blog Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I need to start a support group. I'll call it On and On Anon. Coffee and chips will be served at the meetings. And we offer free WiFi. Any takers?

Now for the hard part: I have to select 5 Fabulous cyber friends to share this with.

Aunt Becky at Mommy Wants Vodka because she has the most fabulous new look for her site. It's so 'afterschool special' in an "Are You There God, It's Me Margaret" kind of way. I read her each day , so maybe if I kiss her bloggy butt a little here - she'll finally add me to her blog roll.

Happy Hour Sue at Happy Meals and Happy Hour because she has the most fabulous sense of humor and always makes me laugh.

Tiffany and Heather of the Secret's In The Sauce. The fabulous site that brings about 300 bloggers together -each and every day.

Trooper Thorn of Dogs and Jeans. Trooper is hysterical. His fabulous coverage of newsworthy events like the Olympics and the Election actually made me snort whatever beverage I was consuming out of my nostrils (and let me tell you, wine stings when it comes out of your nostrils). I don't think Trooper would mind the girly picture on his blog. Would you, Trooper?

and Romi, at It is What it Is because she hasn't been around for a while and I want to make sure she is still as fabulous as ever.

So there you have it.

Fabulous is as fabulous does.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Busy Hands...

...make beautiful pictures.
These are 'fridge worthy'.
I needed to smile after feeling in a funk all day.
Go visit Carrie's place for more Friday Foto Fun!

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

What If We Really Could Kill Two Birds With One Stone?

I never got the constant "why" of toddlerhood. You know, the incessant questioning of all things that most kids ask - usually answered with a ' because'. Instead, I get the "what if"s. You know the incessant questioning of all things - usually answered with a 'well, then...'.

Here is a typical conversation with the 4 year old...and it just happened today:

Rachel: "Mom, What if there was no sun?"
Me: " Well, then we'd be in the dark all the time."
Rachel: "What if we were in the dark all the time?"
Me: "Well, then we wouldnt' be able to see anything."
Rachel: " What if we couldn't see anything and we had to blow our noses?"
Me: "Well, then we would blow our noses in the dark and hope we got it all in the tissue.'
Rachel: "What if we had no nostrils?"
Me: "Well, then we would have no noses to blow."
Rachel: "What if we could blow our boogers out of our bummies?"
Me: : Well, ....(pause)...then we'd be killing two birds with one stone!"
Rachel: ...(sound of crickets chirping) ??

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Oompah Loompahahahahaha

Writer's Workshop: If you've not been to Mama Kat's (and of course you have, silly) then you really must. Each week , Kat helps us out with a prompt of some sort know, to help stir the bloggy fires within. One of the prompts this week was to write a haiku. Haiku is a poem consisting of three lines, with the first line consisting of 5 syllable, the second line has 7 , and the third line has 5 again. It doesn't have to rhyme and is usually about nature. I tried to be au naturale, but the thought of blogging in the nude makes me giggle.

So, here is my attempt at Haiku. And I am combining this with Carries Friday Foto Finish Fiesta with this video treat!

The candy she took
Face orange, covered in gook
~Told her not to look


..and she didn't believe me about the dye pack in the Halloween candy bag.

..if she were wise, she'd have listened to me.

This is Emily's Hip Hop Recital. She's the Oompa Loompa second from the lower left. Sorry for the quality of the video. I was laughing too hard.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

The One Where the Names Have Been Changed

...not to protect the innocent - but because I am pretty much stealing this idea from Lizzie at The Journey to the Hot Tub because she just posted her 164th post and wrote this long list. I guess the thing to do when you've hit 100 is compose a list of 100 that make you -you. The ultimate MeMe. (not YouYou, get it?) The idea of coming up with total originality on this, the occasion of my 100th post is just too exhausting for me . So, as imititation is the sincerest form of flattery and Lizzie just lost her bid as the Plaid Candidate (she could teach Michele Obama a few things, maybe?)- I thought I would copy, I mean pay homage to her insight herein. So I changed the details (and who am I kidding, I made some up) so that they are applicable to my life .

Note: so as I am writing this, I realize that so much of what I am writing has to do with my wonderful dad who passed away January 10th of this year. Today is the 10th of November. It's been 10 months...and I still miss him so profoundly it....well, you know. So - as a tribute to him and my mom, I am going to tell you at least 100 things about my life and how I got to this point.

1.My birthday is February 23, 1964
2.I have 2 siblings.
3.I am the youngest of the three.
4. Does the expression, 'saved the best for last' mean anything to you?
5. My mom says she was roughly 30 days late with each kid...
6.There are only about 3 baby pictures of me in existence.
7.If I told you it's because I looked like Bozo the clown, would you need further explaination as to why #7?
8. My middle name is Jaye. I always like that.
9. Had I been a boy - I would have been J. Warren or J. William. (what would they have called me? J.? or Warren?)
10. I never like my first name. It's not dignified. I can't imagine the day I will be called Grandma Swirlgirl'srealname.
11. I was teased about being Hot and Juicy for about the whole 80's.
12. I was supposed to be the 'biggest' adult of the 3 kids. Rang in at about 10 lbs at birth.
13. Doctor's didn't know shit back then.
14. Doctor's don't know shit right now.
15. When I was 5 or 6 , I had an operation in my left ear to correct the broken eardrum. It was discovered during the hearing tests that they started doing in Elementary schools.
16. I vividly remember my daddy telling me I needed the surgery by surprising me with a Baby Go Bye Bye (remote control car) that 'drove' out of the mirrored closet in my parents' room.
17. I also vividly remember waking up from that surgery with a bowl of green jello over my bed.
18. I haven't eaten green jello since then.
19. I went to nursery school at Little Folk Farm in Framingham, Massachusetts
20. I vividly remember peeing on the bouncing rubber swing at Little Folk Farm in Framingham, Massachusetts. Non-sequitor really, just the facts ma'am.
21. I had a really terrific childhood. Really!
22. We had family dinner just about every night at 6:00pm. Even though mom worked (for Dad) she still made dinner for us. This was a major foundation and I try to practice this with my own kids now. T.V. off and real conversation. On Sundays, we would have pizza and soda in the den, watching Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom and Jaques Cousteau.
23. I vividly remember pinching grapes and English Peas from Dave's Fruit Stand.
24. My mom would shop at Dave's for produce, and she went to the butcher next door, then to the bakery for the best ever Russian Rye Bread.
25. I could eat a loaf of that Rye Bread. Fresh and hot - with tons of butter. This bread made the most amazing toast you've ever had in your life. I love rye toast.
26. My dad didn't eat vegetables other than iceberg lettuce salad and corn on the cob. He was a meat eater. "what , steak again?" was often heard in our house.
27. My dad was the only one in the family who just had to have those little corn shaped plastic corn holders or he would bitch about it.
28. Even to this day - I have a set or at least a pair of those little sharp implements of corn torture for my dad.
29. Every summer from 1972 to 1980 - I went to summer camp in Merrimack, New Hampshire.
30. There are things I loved about it - and tons of things I hated.
31. I was never in the in crowd at Camp Naticook. That is the part I hated.
32. My first boyfriend at camp was named David Goldstein.
33. My husband's name is David Goldstein.
34. They are not the same one. I wrote about that here.
35. My parents were ultra cool. They went out every Saturday night with friends.
36. My parent's were married for 50 years. That's 50...five oh. I should only live that long.
37. Their circle of friends have remained basically the same for most of that time.
38. #'s 36 and 37 are hard for me to fathom. Really.
39. When I was 15 , as the two sibs before me did, I went on a cross country bus trip called
California West.
40. We slept in tents in campgrounds and made our food on a real chuckwagon.
41. Most of the kids on that trip were from the in crowd of Camp Naticook.
42. That is why I sometimes hated that trip.
43. I was the rebel camper. The no make up wearing , earthy crunchy, non-meat eating JAP who hung out with Sara - the freaky chick with her guitar and the pound of weed she smuggled in her duffel bag.
44. I was arrested in Disneyland for smoking a joint on the skyway to Fantasyland while on that trip.
45. Let's just say, for me...unlike the sibs before me, mine was a 3/4 cross country because I was sent home and missed the last two weeks.
46. My father was never more disappointed in me as he was when he saw me after that lonely flight home. I was ashamed because all I ever wanted was for my daddy to be proud of me.
47. I hope that was the only time Daddy was that disappointed in me.
48. To this day, Ernie (my father's best friend) can't see me without a little dig about the joint smoking.
49. And, the first time I wore a bikini when I finally had the curves to fill it in.
50. My dad used to go on golf weekends every year with Ernie and a few other guys. They'd go to Virginia Beach and go to strip clubs and play golf.
51. Ernie, Bernie, Irwin (that's my daddy) and Bob were best friends.
52. They would play Gin on Monday nights and drank and smoked cigarettes.
53. For money-or merchandise. All of my parents' friends were in sales of some kind of wholesales merchandise like clothing, furniture, mattresses, jewelry, etc...
54. My wonderful dad was the youngest of the 4 best friends and the first to leave the table.
55. I was a Bluebird for about a month. I was thrown out for stealing Dawn Speranzas yarn octopus and claiming it as my own...(I don't know why I added this, it just came to came to mind)
56. I am not artisitc at all. That may explain #55.
57. Other than the fruit mentioned in #23, and the yarn octopus - I have never shoplifted.
58. Other than being busted and visiting the underground jail in Disneyland, I have never had a run in with the law. You'd be scared straight if you saw disney characters in 1/2 costume, too, 59. Not even a speeding ticket or other vehicle related infraction.
60. About 13 years ago, at a fancy schmancy wedding in Newport Rhode Island , we (Hubby and others) were partying after and there was a cop at coffee shop. I asked him if I could see the inside of the cruiser.
61. You really can't get get out of the back seat of a cop car.
62. When I was in 10th grade, my dad took me to London for a week.
63. We ate at wonderful restaurants, saw every thing London is famous for, and went to 3 Broadway shows. . It was an incredible experience.
64. We met up with the Bernie's son, Billy. Billy had scored tickets to Pink Floyd's "The Wall" concert that he bought from some scalpers. "The Wall" only showed twice. Ever. It was a stunning spectacle. Afterwards, Daddy and I ran with all the Londoners to the 'tube' after the show. It was the first time I ever really saw my dad run.
65. There is not a single picture of Daddy and I on that trip. We borrowed my sisters fancy schmancy camera and learned how to use it by painstakingly reading the manual on the plane trip to London.
66. We never loaded the friggin' thing with film. Wondered how we were able to take 106 pictures with one roll of film.
67. Daddy always drove luxury vehicles. He actually had a mauve, two toned, landau roofed, tinted windowed Lincoln Continental. On family road trips we listened to awesome music on the 8 track.
68. I vividly remember all of us singing to everything Elton John's "Goodbye Yellowbrick Road" to Barbra Streisand's "A Star is Born" to Led Zepplin's "Physical Graffiti".
69. Everyone sang or 'air band'ed. Even my brother who probably wouldn't admit it that for some strange reason he doesn't know why he can sing the words to Neil Diamond's "Song, Sung, Blue".
69. I also remember when my daddy drove me to college on the first day, there was dorm chatter that I was the princess of the Jewish Mafia capo because of that pink Lincoln.
70. When I graduated college, like other sibs before me, went on a bus tour of Europe called Contiki. We stayed in campgrounds throughout 11 countries. I was the only American on that trip.
71. I was in the in crowd on that trip. It was absolutely amazing and I don't think I have ever laughed (or drank) that much in my life.
72. I did properly load the camera back in the summer of '86 and have the photo album to prove it.
73. My daddy was a glazier. He owned a window, mirror and autoglass shop in Waltham , MA.
74. When he worked Saturdays, he would take one of us kids with him. We would Windex the mirror wall, type letters to ourselves, use the adding machine...Daddy never let me go to the shop in the back to use the bathroom. The guys had pictures of naked chicks on the walls in the dirty shoproom.
75. After work, he would take one of us kids (whosever turn it was) to lunch a 'dadventure' of their choice. I opted for museums, theater or shopping in downtown Boston.
76. My room in our house in Framingham had a cloud and blue sky mural and a mirrored wall. Come to think of it, that house had a lot of mirrors in it. Only on walls.
77. My brother and I had awesome Bose sound systems in High School. One of daddy's Gin buddies' daughter worked at Bose...he may have won them in game. I still have the speakers.
78. My dad retired at 51. I should only live that long.
79. I vividly remember him telling me that he and mom had sold the business, were selling the house that they (and I) were living in, and moving to Florida. We were driving home from work together (my first crappy job was down the street from the glass shop) and it was snowing.
80. A few years later, I moved to Florida too.
81. I don't winter gracefully.
82. I lived my parents in their Florida apartment on the beach for about a year. It was awesome.
83. I worked at bar in Palm Beach as a waitress. I am a great waitress.
84. I served the Senator from Massachusetts and his nephew their first Dewar's and water the night the nephew had his run in with the law for not understanding the meaning of the word 'no'.
85. I have an non pigmented birth mark on my thigh - that is sort of shaped like Cuba. When I worked in the bar in Palm Beach, I would let guys do body shots of tequila off my Cuba. Made a lot of money doing that...(my thigh is so much bigger now, it's more like South America now,{sigh})
86. During that year of living on the ocean with my parents, Daddy and I spent just about every single day at the beach. Reading , talking, sleeping, floating on the Hammecher Schlemmer raft.
87. I vividly remember those afternoons. Hanging out not just as father and daughter; but as friends.
88. My parents were truly thrilled for me when Hubby proposed.
89. They threw us one hell of a party.
90. During the ceremony, I switched around a couple of words and laughcriedtwitchedsnorted for about 2 minutes. I was supposed to say 'land of Moses' and said 'mand of loses'
90. Hubby and I honeymooned in Italy for two luxurious very glorious weeks.
91. I was completely confident in my photographic abilities by that time in my life and have an album to prove it.
92. My parents were at the hospital to greet their granddaughter. They were literally walking down the hall when they saw everyone running toward my room. They didn't make it to the elevator when they heard my laughcrytwitchsnort and knew Emily was born.
93. When I brought her home, my daddy came over every day bearing gifts. One day a Pooh Bear. The next day something else. He was content just to sit and hold the baby.
94. My parents babysat their granddaughter every Wednesday when I went back to work. They did everything together on Wednesdays.
95. When Hubby and I moved to Maryland, mom and daddy were happy for our opportunity - but I know the thought of not seeing me every week was killing them. Then we had Rachel and they wished they could babysit her every Wednesday. The time she spent with her grandparents are irreplaceable for Emily.
96. In my adult life, I am pretty sure I spoke to my Daddy every 3-4 days bar none. Sure, I spoke to mom, but it was Daddy with whom I really talked.
97. When we had the chance to move to California for Hubby's job...our lives would change forever. I was sad to leave the east coast. Sure, my friends that I had made in Maryland, sure my sisterbestfriend, but mostly because of my Daddy.
98. My wonderful father had several health issues in the last 5 years of his life. The distance in miles between us mattered so much more because of that.
99. He joked that he wanted more initials after his name than his doctors did. And not initials as in Jr. or Sr. - but as in P.A.D., Q.B.P., C.L.L., M.C.C. (Peripheral Artery Disease, Quadruple By Pass, Chronic Lymphatic Leukemia, Merkel Cell Carcinoma) - that kind of initials. The kind that suck.
100. I wrote this in my first month of Blogging.
101. All of this might lead one to believe that my mom had nothing to do with my upbringing. That is definitely not the case. My mom is strong, and smart and instilled the greatest gifts in me and my brother and sister. I could write a hundred things about my mom, too. I hope I don't have to for a long, long time.
102. Of all of my parents friends kids- the three of us are the most 'undisturbed' . Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. They must have done something right!
103. I hope -no I know that when my girls are blogging about their mom, that they only have good things to say about Hubby and I . If they have 1/2 the relationship with us as my sibs and I had with our parent's - they are lucky frickin' kids, let me tell you.
104. The stories you have read are (mostly) true. The names and dates may have changed slightly to make for better blogging.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

...And It Wasn't the Onions that Made Me Cry

As usual - I respond to comments from some of my regular reads. This time is was Ms. Tootsie Farklepants' post that led me to this response....

I, too, was in tears watching the election returns last night. I cried partly because Obama was elected and the sheer historic proportion of that in and of itself hit me with uncontrollable emotion. And, partly because Obama was elected. I know that sounds weird because he got my vote, but after I cast my ballot - I didn't feel that proverbial sense of 'hope' that has been tossed around - I felt , well - a little jittery in the depths of my soul. I can't explain it really.

I also cried at the results of several Propositions and Senate races here in California. As much as I will miss my daily mailbox full of mudslinging fish wrap from our local candidates, I will NOT miss the barrage of television ads appealing to the lowest common denominator ; fear. Good for you, you pro-Prop 4 whacko's (requiring parental notification upon minor's seeking abortions- which did not pass here) Your down to the wire ad showed a skanky looking self-admitted sexual predator who pretty much said if this prop didn't pass, he would be able to continue molesting girls and impregnate his victims and just take 'em for abortions since they didn't have to tell anyone about it. What brilliant pro-lifer douche bag came up with this ad?? Thank god the people of California were able to see through that one.

And I think it's sad that in a state where we are supposed to be the liberal, gay cavaliers, all tree hugging and dope smoking - we seem to care more about the ability of chickens and veal cows to be able to spread their wings and turn around in their cages (you know , so they can take a good long stretch before we eat them!) than we care about alternative fuels and equality among it's dope smoking and apparantly unrehabilitatable denizen. {As an aside, I think it's hysterical that the two counties that actually voted to pass the drug rehabilitation (Prop 5) and decriminilization of small amounts of marijuana possession here were Humboldt and Mendocino counties whose biggest cash crop next to wine grapes are guessed it -mary jane. I know from personal experience (I was in the wine business you know, heh-heh).}

But most of all, I cried last night because Oprah was there (and she had more secret service guys around her than Obama did)and she was crying. I cry when she gives away cars to the needy and I cry during her 'Favorite Things' shows. I cry because I am needy and I would love to be in the audience to receive a faux sheerling pashmina and those jeans that make you look 20 lbs. lighter. And, you know what else made me cry? Poor Stedman. Oprah was there in all her Oprahness and she was literally hanging on some guy - and it wasn't Stedman. Who was that guy she was hanging on to, anyway? Anyone know? He looked a bit like comedian Lewis Black (who is snarky, angry and just friggin' hysterical - but it wasn't him) Poor Stedman - always behind Oprah...never along side her. When ya gonna come clean Oprah and just admit that Gayle and Stedman are one and the same...C'mon- you've never seen them both at the same time, have you? Not that there's anything wrong with that - at least not anywhere else but in California....

Well, aside from The Big News , the first order of business for the new guy is political appointments. And the insider scoop from the 'loop' is Barack's first official appointment. The "O" was just announced as Michelle Obama's Personal Wardrobe and Image Consultant....What the heck was she wearing last night? Not for nothing, but Halloween was last week Michelle. And now that you are the First Lady're subject to the same scrutiny and ridicule as everyone else. You could even cross party lines now and ask Sarah Palin where she got her clothes. I hear that the Anchorage Mervyn's is closing and you can get red suits real cheap. They also have a few bridges and comfy leather chairs for sale as well. Yep - direct imports from Ted Stevens' cedar closet next to the wine cellar. I am sure Mrs. Steven's would be willing to 'lend' you a few things since they were not 'gifts' in the first place.

So now that the whole thing is over -and you won (or lost) whatever it was that you wanted to say Yes or No to , would you please come by and ...CLEAN UP YOUR SHIT! Come get your signs off the side of the road, tear them off the trees that you stapled them to, off the freeway overpass without causing more traffic tie-ups and SWAT standoffs....clean up after yourselves. I, for one, am sick of looking them. Take the placards out of your kids hands and take them off the the street corners, go back to homeschooling them, mill your own wheat, feed them whatever fear you've been feeding them - and hope that none of them come to you and tell you that they are gay, or pregnant and unwed, or got caught passing rolling papers to a friend at school.

Peace Out.
I certainly hope so anyway.

(note to self: the next time you try to write something funny about some very unfunny subjects- don't'll turn out like this post)

Sunday, November 2, 2008

If It Were Only That Easy.

Sorry for this, I just had to show you our Halloween pictures. Aren't they cute? And check out Rachel's rock hard abs...she get's that from me.


November 4th...Election day

4 year old's preschool class going to an actual polling place to see what an election is all about. She knows that tomorrow , mommy's and daddy's across the country will be voting for our new "precedent" (no pun intended I am sure, just a pronounciation issue).

The children in her class will vote on which is their favorite ice cream flavor.
Chocolate or vanilla. Then, after all the votes are tabulated , they will eat the winner.

If it were only that easy.


4th Grade teacher is donating the excessive amounts of Halloween candy to those less fortunate. I told the 9 year old that I put a dye pack in the donation bag which, upon opening - would explode in her face and she would look like an Ooompa Loompa (complete with orange face and green hair) if she pilferred the bag. I think she actually believed me and swears she won't open the bag once I drop her off tomorrow.

If it were only that easy.

We took the girls to see 'Stomp' the other night. If you are not familiar with the show, it is a troupe of percussionists who use everyday things like brooms, and garbage cans, and paper bags to make music. No words or music or big theatrical production numbers....just common things that make the rhythm and harmony. It was great fun for everyone in the audience of all ages. You can't leave the theater without smiling and shaking your Tic Tac container to a rhythmic beat.
Balloon hats and music invoke smiles.... and smiling and laughter are what separate man from beast. The common human experience. We took our kids to the Skirball Museum in L.A. to see the Balloon Guy a few month ago, and we have exposed them to all kinds of music and theater.
In their own diplomatic way, while discussing important things like why people are standing on the side of the road waving 'Yes on Prop somethingorother' or 'Honk if you're voting No on thisandthat' - Rachel had the idea that we should just 'Stomp' our grumpies away when were mad about something. Emily thought we should have each candidate twist up a big balloon hat and whoever twisted the most intricate one without popping it would be declared the winner.

If it were only that easy.

This, coming from a Barbie doll and her Oompa Loompa sister. Hell, if Sarah Palin has a chance to become the Vice President - just maybe they are on to something.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

The One with Much Ado About Nothing

I am having a hard time lately . I am having a hard time coming up with clever, quippy and inspiring blog posts. And yes- even the snark seems to have gone out of my snarky.

What's that you say? The Swirl Girl in not unfurled? (your welcome, Kat). She has no soapbox upon which to climb? She hasn't been wronged by a fellow driver, customer service clerk, telephone solicitor. Kids are fairly easy going and haven't made her drink endless amounts of alcohol?


I love comments. I read them all and try to respond to all of them. I'm feeling pretty good about my many (okay, you two...stop snickering) regular readers out there. I usually go on to the commentors site (most of which I read on a regular basis - but I LOVE that I do get some new people) and leave my comment love - right back atcha! But some comments are worthy of a little more. You know, linky love... so here goes:

Dear John ,

Thanks for the comments you recently left on Swirl Girls Pearls. As a seasoned blogger ( I have almost 100 posts ) , I rely on the comments from my readers (there they go snickering again) to assure me that my subject matter is touching some 'hot button' ; subjects that 'tap' the readers' core.

So - what was it in the post about giving my 9 year old the 'how the seed get's fertilized ' chat or the one where I retell the story of how this Sally met her Harry led you to believe that I needed this from you...

"John said...
Viagra resource containing quality information on Erectile Dysfunction, Impotence, Viagra News, Viagra Usage, Viagra Forum etc to help you understand the most effective treatment available for Erectile Dysfunction(Impotence)

October 30, 2008 10:36 PM "

If I led you to believe I was in the market for assistance in the arena, I am sorry to have misled you, John. You seem like a good guy- but if this is an attempt to meet girls, you need to try harder to 'pick me up'. Hell, I'm cheap - but I'm not easy.

I know times are 'hard', (or in your case, apparantly not) but stalking mommy blogs to sell viagra is like hanging out at AA meetings with a box of donuts and some quaaludes. You're no Allison hawking the Hoover , so back off Jack ! (or Jack off back).

Yours truly sorry,

Swirl Girl


Kat over at Sunshine and Lemonade is having a month of contests and I want to win. 10 weeks of good stuff and give-a-ways to be exact. This week it's an autographed copy of Wicked, the novel. And although it is autographed by the author, Gregory Maguire, and not by Kat herself - I would like to continue my Random Popularity and be chosen at random to win this prize. Kat is so smart and well read, and this is her favorite book of all time...I figure if I read it, maybe some of that smart will rub off on me through blogsmosis.


...and last but not least, after 2 hours of hard time Trick or Treating (with wagon pulled portable bar), putting the Pirate and Cheerleader to bed, and sorting the bags of candy - I have made a decision. Butterfingers, Snickers , and Milky Way Bars are going to be stolen from the aforementioned two chocolateers, and tucked waaay behind the edamame and homemade chicken stock in the freezer. For me. Sssshhhhh.

Friday, October 31, 2008

Friday Foto Fiesta or When You Give A Kid A Camera

When you give a kid a camera

(a great idea from my new bloggy friend Putting the FUN in DysFUNctional) makes for fun day at the soccer field...

Rachel's self portrait... she looks just like me (well, at least her chins do). Stretch your neck , dolly!

Front row viewing for Barbie and her peeps... meanwhile, I had to stand up the whole game. 'Cuz nobody puts Barbie in a corner. Check out their solidarity pose. Word.

...even the ball had one. (get it?)

You put your whole self in, you take your whole self out.... this is what I call going for 'the Hokey Pokey' goal. These little kids literally run into the net with the ball, their teammates and their opponents!

Go Fireballs! Greatest coach ever, too! Encouraging the kids to read 20 minutes a day and to eat Captain Crunch on game day! ('cuz don't we all wanna be smart and sweet?)

Emily's self portrait... she got the neck elongation thing down!~

Pop on over to Carrie's for more Phriday Photo Phun!!!

Monday, October 27, 2008

It's (Women's) Business Time

The questions are coming faster than I can deflect them. I have tried to answer (read: avoid) them in a meaningful way - but I can' t do it anymore without going to that place I have been afraid to go. She is only 9 , I know - but things are different these days. I mean, have you seen the 4th grade lately? They are not little girls anymore. There are belly shirts, and heels and little boobs budding everywhere. I realize that every mom and grammy reading this (especially one that I can think of, two if I count my sister) is saying - 'been there , done that' with their daughters - but this is me and my it is infinitely more important than anyone else's experiences on this subject.

{{cue flashback music and wiggly wavy things }}

Mom was driving me to a party. A boy-girl party at Brian Brady's house. In the basement with Elton John's 'Goodbye Yellow Brick Road and Terry Jacks' 'Seasons in the Sun' playing on the record player. His parents were upstairs while we - the 4th grade class of Heminway Elementary School in Framingham, MA - were about to embark on our first co-ed birthday party. And I have to say - I like liked him. And, I was one of the popular girls in 4th grade. And he like liked me back.

So mom is driving me to his house. I am all dolled up in my Huck-a-poo shirt and Jordache jeans. (BTW - this was the only time in my life I could actually fit into designer jeans) Love's Baby Soft roll on lip gloss tucked stealthily in my back pocket right along side of David Stacy's comb (okay, so I liked Brian Brady first and David Stacy was second on my list) and my mom says to me "You know, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

{{flashback over}}

That. was. it. The extent of my 'the talk' with my mom. I don't recall her ever having sat me down and having the all important 'conversation' with me about the changes in my body and my emotions and ... you know.

So the 9 year has asked "Mom, what is puberty?" and I said "It sucks, wanna ice cream?" (deflect and re-interest NOW) and she has asked what neutering is (when we were watching the Animal Planet once) and I said " Let's see what's on Disney channel and wanna ice cream?". All this deflecting has done has been to delay the inevitable and cause me to gain a few unwanted ice cream pounds.

So I broke down and scoured the shelves of Border's for the right book. Oh sure, once I was in High School - I had 'Our Bodies, Ourselves' loaned to me by my friend Jodi who is the 3rd of 4 girls in the family. The 9 year old is too young for that at the moment. But I need something to help open the floor to questions without raising any unwanted ones...and I found the right mix of cartoon and credibility. Straight talk about first bras, first periods and the changing body.

Our girls have see us naked all the time. In fact, one of the funniest things the 9 year old ever said to me was when she was about 4 and in the shower with me helping me shave my legs while I was very pregnant with the now 4 year old (conserving water lazy and huge to do it myself , yes) she looked down and up , down and up at my very different unmanicured, wet and naked body and said "Mom, your feathers are dirty!" There is chapter in this book that I think is actually titled "Your Feathers Are Dirty" This was a bright kid .

So the 9 year old reads the whole thing in like 45 minutes (crap!) and decides that we, like the author, should have "Women's Business Time" once a week. The first meeting was this past Sunday. In her oh, so grown up voice- she sits me down (on her bed , right next to the 27 Webkins and assorted stuffed animals and I have to take the eraser out of the bottom of my foot and give her some shit about what a pigsty her room is first) and we have the first session. Using the book as a point of reference, we go over the first bra stuff. Easy enough.

Moving to the touchy stuff now. I start with "You know honey, a period is not just a punctuation's actually a lot more than that. " She comes right back with - "So it says I should get used to blood on my sheets." " How do you know when it's coming?" " Will I get zits and stuff?" " Is that what all those mommy bandaids were for?" "You had a hysterctomy so you don't have periods anymore, right?" "How do you know which ovary is releasing the egg?" All good questions...this is a bright kid.

I take the experiential stance at this point and look to graphics in the book to explain what a period is biologically, how often it comes, and I am thinking this is a good thing. We talk a little more about some of the emotional issues that are starting to pop up and Hubby calls us for dinner (phew - thank you, thank, thank you Hubby). It is then decided that we should have the "Women's Business Time" at the same time next week. Done.

Later that evening - she asks me "So , if the egg doesn't get fertilized each month, you get a period right? What if the egg is fertilized?" I respond by saying - "Well, then, you are pregnant if the egg is fertilized"

...and then she pops the big one - the big gulping, seat squirming question ....
"How does the egg get fertilized, Mommy?"

{{cue flashback music and wiggly wavy thing}}

I played 2 minutes in the closet and let some kid named Doug something or other - who was not even on my 'like list' - play chicken with me and he felt me up. We kissed with our mouths closed and moved our heads back and forth mushing our lips together and he put his sweaty hand on my Huck-a-poo shirted boob. And for the record, I was one of the 'developed' girls in 4th grade so lucky Doug. (I wonder if he is sitting somewhere with his 4th grade daughter remembering his first boy -girl party.....nyaaaah.) What can I say? Once a slut always a slut.

{{end flashback}}

I say to her "It's business time, women's business time." week.