The One With the Puffy Heart

So I finally got it. And well before Valentine's Day. I got the Puffy Heart. No - not from Tiffany. The one I got did not come in a pretty box. It didn't come to me in the form of a gift. It will , however, be one I save forever.

My Puffy Heart came to me in the form of an apology. The oldest one called me "the worst mother in the whole world". Words that sting worse than being called the 'c' word.

Backstory: Every Monday, Emily comes home from school with what her teacher calls The Goldminer chart . Basically, this is a behavior chart filled with clever acronyms that describe the student's behavior like following directions, turning in homework, being attentive etc...Emily usually receives very good to excellent ratings on said chart. She is diligent about homework, citizenship, and all the rest. But last week, for some reason - her Goldmine was barren. Apparantly she forgot to turn in several assignments, and had some issues with talking in class during lessons. Or something like that.

When asked (by me) what homework assignments she told me she turned in (and apparantly did not ) she couldn't recollect. So she's sitting with her afterschool snack (the norm around here) and the comics (also the norm) and getting the third degree from me...my ire was growing because she was more into the latest installment of 'Leo' in the paper than she was into our conversation. And then she let 'er rip.

Me: "Em...it is really important that when you say you did something like turning in homework, that you actually do it. What assignments did you turn in late or not at all?"

Her: {chew, chew, slurp} I don't remember.

Me: "The reason you have your agenda book is to write down assignments and due dates for things - not just to doodle and get the latest joke of the day"

Her: {slurp, swallow} " I don't remember..If I knew, then I would remember!"

Me: {voice rising} "Dude, you remember everything you ate from age 2 through 9 and every episode of the 'Suite Life of Hannah Montana' and you can' t remember to write down your homework? Maybe you have too many things in your life to remember....too much soccer, softball, hip hop, huh? Maybe I won't remember to drive you to those things"

Her: {crumpling up newspaper} "Fine! You're the worst mother in the world! I don't have to be perfect all the time!"

Me: "You have no idea what a worst mother in the world is, kiddo..."

She stomps upstairs. Slams door.{sound familiar mom?} And upon my orders ...does homework and doesn't come out until about 1 1/2 hour later. With this:


{you gotta enlarge this to get the full read}
My Puffy Heart apology. In a homemade envelope with a To: mommy and a From: ??? (like I didn't know from whom it came) simply stating that I am not the worst mother in the world, I do everything for the girls, and color coded Puffy Heart mood indicator (this one is orange for 'okay'). And, my favorite line ever...." And, hey, we all are a pain in the ass sometimes"

True dat.

I Puffy Heart that kid...I am she and she is me and we are all together...

Waay back story - when I was about 9 or 10, I was really pissed at my brother and sister for something and scribbled "fuck you Robert and Stacy , I hate you" on that piece of paper and threw it away..or so I thought - My mom found it and asked if I wrote the note. I, of course, denied it..before I realized that bro and sis would not write such loathing about themselves and I was the only kid left in the house who would. I Puffy Hearted them, and had to write it 100 times on a piece of paper as part of the punishment. Thank god there was no internet or blogs back then....

**UPDATE!!** Friday
I found Shauna of See My Designs - the wonder woman who designed my blog back in July. She found my header and is working to re-head my beheaded site. Phew!
And, I am not supposed to ask you to click on the ads, but if you choose to do so on your own...well, goody. And, lastly -the beast with 8 babies already has 6 at home and lives with her parents. She has gone into hiding ...or is holding out for a call from TLC. Either way, she's a freak or is starting her own cult. It's okay to drink the Kool-Aid, babe.

Thursday...
So I am so frustrated right now I could seriously hurt someone. It's been a while that I have a good bitch session so hold on to your seats for a touch of Swirl Girl's own special brand of whoop-ass:

1) I decided to follow someone's advice and put Google AdSense on here so I could make tons of money a $1.27 and somehow it deleted my awesome header. So while your clicking on the ad for some TubeLube and Amazondotcom and whatever else AdSense thinks is apropos for my blog (that means do it incessantly 'til your fingers hurt and the ENTER button on your keyboard falls off) - if you find my cute header in your trash somewhere, please send it home. It is amazing how attached you get to something like your cartoon image...I feel naked without it - and there is good naked and bad naked. This is the bad naked.

2) What is so difficult about making lines in the circle at school pick up? People have no problem doing it at McDonalds or Starbucks. But at a school that has 550 students whose parents all come to pick them up? Nope - we are going to drive into the ONE WAY circle and park perpendicularly against the flow of traffic. Make two lines along the curb , pick up your kids , and move along people. Think of it as a drive-thru window...only with less calories. Duh.

3) I had the pleasure of previewing the 'puberty' movie that our school district will be showing our 4th grade girls this week. Great - now after all the hard work I've done in explaining to my 9 year about the changes that will be taking place with her body - she's going to watch this video and start asking even more questions. And, the little time lapsed cartoon anatomical imagery on that video? Think 'Ch-Ch-Chia' vagina with a five o'clock shadow, perky c cup boobies and pimples. Not to mention the part where they intentionally dangle a 'pregnant' pause (pun intended, here) when they state "if the egg is not fertilized by the male sperm, it is expelled through the ..." First of all, is there another kind of sperm besides male sperm? And, my kid will raise her hand and ask how the sperm it gets in there to fertilize the egg!

4) What the fuck with this woman who just had 8 babies here in California ? At the same time! Oh sure, she was all "I'm was planning for 7, but uh-oh, surprise - the doctors pulled out 8!" And, she is planning to breast feed. How? More importantly - Why?? I guess if your going to have mulitples...then you should go big or go home. Twins, triplets or quads is pretty cool . But if your going to have 4, you may as well have 7 or 9. That qualifies you for lots of free shit like car seats, diapers for life, and probably a show on The Learning Channel. Not to mention, some plastic surgeon will offer you a tummy tuck, and your tits can go on tour in Vegas for the newest Cirque de Soleil puppet show.

I know some people who'd love one of those babies. Seriously - she probably wouldn't even know if one was missing.


I am going to bang my head against the wall now.

Manic's MeMe or The One Where She Gets The Q and A

My friendthatIhavenevermetyet Manic Mariah is doing this Q&A thingy-do. She sent me a list of questions and I am to provide the answers. Here goes:

1) What's the worst gift you've ever received and ever given?

This is where I should be a really good sport and say something like 'there is no worst gift when it is given out of love...' or some shit like that - but there really are some not-so- terrific gifts. I would have to say the worst gift I ever got is the gift that I never got.

2) What song evokes the strongest memories for you?
This is actually toughie for me. There are so many songs that bring up very vivid visual images in my head...I have always loved music and it has always been a huge part of my life. When we were kids, my parents were friends with someone whose daughter worked at Bose Equipment. My brother and I had amazing Bose 360 Stereo systems with kickin' speakers, tuner, and turntable. (for those of you readers who were born in the 80's or later, a turntable is an antique piece of stereo equipment on which a moulded vinyl disc would spin at certain rpms while a diamond needle would scratch over the grooved surface and somehow music would come out of it). Anyway - I had tons of record albums (and I still have most of them...and if I go out to the garage and open the box right now, I could probably scrounge up a doobie or two from the double album sets that made for great rolling trays)...sorry to have strayed off topic here - flashbacks are a bitch.

Okay - a few songs that evoke the strongest memories for me are:

We Are Family by Sister Sledge and Celebrate by Kool and the Gang : I can see my wonderful dad's white- man's -overbite -while- he -dances expression as I write. All I need to hear is the first few notes of We are Family and I go into a blithering bawl.

Funeral For a Friend /Love Lies Bleeding - Elton John: Again, this in one of my dad's favorites ...this reminds me of long family road trips and the old 8 track in the Lincoln., each family member honing in on one instrument and singing only that instrument, stopping at Rein's deli somewhere in Connecticut for lunch. Yum.

Born to Run - Bruce Springsteen: I saw Bruce at the Boston Garden in 1981. 5th row center on the floor. I even remember that I was wearing an off white velour v-neck with a collar. Why that tidbit is important other than the fact that I was ensconced in velour...I don't know. I am pretty sure , that despite the fact that I wasn't really sure what was going on at the time, when he sang that song right at me...and only for me...I experienced my first orgasm at that concert. And I wasn't touching myself at the time either. And although I was one of 15 thousand other people, the only ones who really knew what I was feeeling ...were me and Bruce. And Clarence, right?

3) What is so great about your favorite underwear and / or bra? I don't really have a favorite pair. I despise panty lines, so I've been a thong wearer for year. I figure if I am going to spend half my day pulling it out of my ass , I may as well start with it up there in the first place. So goodbye granny panties, bucket-o-undies, big uglies...whatever you call them. And, no - there are not really 'comfortable' in the true sense of the word, but I forgo comfort for no V.P.L. anyday.

4) Is justice or forgiveness more important? Would you forgive me if I said justice over forgiveness? Forgiveness is a copout. It has become as politicized and normalizing. And one gigantic excuse for everything from cheating on your spouse, to bilking investors, 'oh there just being children'. I may forgive , but I don't forget.

5) Who would you like to tradeplaces with for a month?
I don't think I'd want to change places with anyone for a month. I have come to realize that what we see and think we want is not always reality. Appearances are very deceiving, right? Not that I wouldn't mind being George Clooney's arm candy for a few weeks, and then maybe I'd like to be Oprah just long enough to embezzle do some good with all that green (not to mention the shopping and )...So I guess I have to say that I'd like to be me with Oprah's money and ...well, just George Clooney.

So there it is...forgive me.

**and let's send some good internet waves over to Kat's husband Michael who just suffered an aneurysm over the weekend. shit...