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You? Have opinions. I? Want them.

Written on June 9, 2008 by Jennifer in Ask Teh Internets, begfest '08, brutally honest monday, confession, Little Monkeys, playing along, Quirky Me

This is my first time participating in Mrs. Flinger’s Brutally Honest Monday.

I’d like your (brutally honest) opinion about a recent incident.

The kids and I went to watch Tate play softball last week. Being a magnet to puddles, Carson immediately found the biggest, muddiest puddle and jumped right in. Within seconds of getting to the ball field, Carson was soaking wet and dirty.

There were lots of other kids around Carson, laughing at him getting all wet. The next thing I know, I look over and a girl who looked to be at least eight or nine, was throwing handfuls of mud on Carson (and cackling manically…or so I imagined. I mean, maybe she was.)

I was FURIOUS.

I marched over there and yelled at her to stop. I told her how ashamed she should be for picking on such a little boy and that she should know better. There was lots of huffing and puffing (on my part.) Also, my face was most likely all sorts of red.

I was SO PISSED.

I made the girl apologize to Carson. She did, half-heartedly. Then I grabbed Carson’s hand and we marched off, with me saying the MOST mature, parental thing ever…”Let’s go play over HERE away from those MEAN kids.”

When I made it back to the bleachers, a few of the people who had witnessed THE INCIDENT, looked a little horrified. I’m not sure if they were horrified by how I reacted or by the girl’s behavior. Of course I assumed it was all about me. Also, I’ve told a few people what happened and each person acted like I overreacted slightly.

Here’s what I’d like you to consider when forming your opinion…

1. She was DEFINITELY old enough to know better than throw mud on a little kid.
2. She was throwing the mud at his head.
3. (Don’t forget the maniacal cackling.)

But also consider this…

1. He was already filthy, dirty from jumping in the puddle.
2. I probably could have left out the huffing, puffing, and stomping away with the immature retort.

I am a little nervous since this is “BRUTALLY HONEST Monday.” Don’t think the BRUTAL part means to be, you know, too BRUTAL. I’m tender hearted. **bats eyelashes**

*****

Pssst…Nikon! Hi there! I entered your contest to win a D60 last night! You know, I could say really nice things about your WONDERFUL cameras here on my blog…I’d sure love a camera to review! PUH-LEASE!!!! Kthnxbai!

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Let’s Hear From Our Judges

Written on May 7, 2008 by Jennifer in blogging, confession, Little Monkeys, Mommydom, Need to Know

The response I got to yesterday’s post truly shocked me. I haven’t mentioned this before, but before I hit *publish* on a post, I like to guess the number of comments I’ll receive for it. I guessed yesterday’s post to be a 34 and thought that it wouldn’t really be a post people felt compelled to comment about. Apparently I underestimated people’s feeling about children’s bedtimes.

Most comments were positive, but I got the feeling from a few comments that you felt very defensive about my opinion of early bedtimes, pointing out when I already had, that I was being judgmental (paraphrasing). When I thought about it, I certainly cannot blame anyone for feeling defensive since I’ve read many others’ posts that have left me feeling that same way and wanting to defend my parenting decisions. In fact, yesterday there were a few comments where I felt judged for judging. How’s that for irony?

I suspect, though, that each and every one of us has tsk tsked someone else’s parenting decisions. If you were to say you’ve NEVER judged someone else, I’d probably call you a liar (under my breath). Oh yeah, I said it, a LIAR. Liar, liar pants on fire.

There are many issues that I think, for me, I can safely say are truly off limits for judging. Choosing how to feed your infant, choosing whether to stay home with the kids or work, choosing how to birth your children, these are all things that I strive to never, ever judge or criticize. In fact I cringe whenever I read a post about why breastfeeding is the best for everyone and that everyone MUST try it and that there is no reason not to. Or when someone says that it’s okay for a mom to work when the family needs the money, but otherwise, no. Or when people feel like they must educate people about a VBAC after they’ve already chosen to have a repeat C-section.

These are the type of things that literally make my heart all racy and my stomach flutter to read. I get very nervous when people judge these sorts of things.

We all do the best we can do for our kids.

Conversely, though, I fully admit that I’ve judged for lots of other things. A mom putting sweet tea in her kid’s sippy cup? A little girl that I think is dressed like a tramp? A mom not watching her brat kid at Chick-Fil-A? Oh, I’ve judged.

I think that through blogging, though, I’ve learned to be less judgmental about how others parent their kids. There are millions of us mommy and daddy bloggers out there that come from different backgrounds with a wide-range of experiences and beliefs. I’m continually learning and expanding my point of view through reading about lives that are not a part of my own reality. So all the while, as I sit back and occasionally judge, I’m trying not to. I’m attempting to be more understanding and accepting.

I’m not perfect and won’t ever be. Neither will you.

We all do the best we can do for our kids.

Now! Moving right along! *claps hands* On a completely unrelated note, have any of you tried the Strawberry Banana V8 Fusion? Oh. Mah. Gah. DELICIOUS. Just like a smoothie, no blender needed. You’re welcome!

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Tip Anxiety

Written on April 21, 2008 by Jennifer in confession, Quirky Me

The other night I discovered that you can order pizza ONLINE! Since I have a bit of phone anxiety (I’ll post about that another time), ordering a pizza online is just beyond fabulous.

Since Tate and I rarely carry cash, I chose the option on the screen where you can pay by debit card (also beyond fabulous), but! there is the part that asks if you want to add a tip, and yet another one of my silly anxiety rears it’s ugly head.

Tip anxiety! (dunh, dunh, duuuuuhhhhhh)

I want to tip what’s acceptable. I hear that you give 15% if service is average, 20% or more if you receive excellent service. My stomach gets all fluttery just thinking about how this applies to the pizza man especially when you’re ordering online! What if the driver sees that I’ve already tipped and thinks that it’s lousy and decides to hock a giant loogie on my pepperoni, mushroom, and black olive pizza?! Or! What if they take forever and a day to deliver the pizza, then I’m screwed in doling out the proper punishment of a crappy tip because I ALREADY PAID THE TIP!

(By the way, even if they did deliver the pizza hours after I ordered, I probably wouldn’t give the driver a crappy tip because he might remember us the next time we ordered and somehow get his revenge on my pizza!)

Oh the TIP ANXIETY. Stomach pains!

This is also a problem at carry-out/fast foodish type restaurants. One of my most favorite places on Earth is Sonic. If you’re not familiar with Sonic, it’s a drive-in style fast food restaurant where your food is brought to you by a carhop. As I sit waiting for my food to arrive, my palms start to sweat and I feel a lump in my throat and my stomach starts to gurgle. Do I tip? If so, how much? And why should I tip, they’re just delivering the food! But if I don’t tip…I don’t want to EVEN THINK of the consequences. Also, tip jars at places where you order from the counter boggle my mind. I don’t think they should get a tip simply for ringing up my order and putting my food on a tray. Again though, I worry that if I don’t tip they’ll eventually get their revenge.

Tip anxiety also struck last week when I got my hair all done up purdy like. I got the bill, I saw the amount, I couldn’t breathe, just trying to quickly do the math in my head. I know how to figure a tip, but whenever I’m put on the spot and the perky cashier is standing there waiting for me, politely smiling, as I stare, dumbfounded, at this little receipt as if I’ve never seen those new symbols–numbers!–before. I’m completely embarrassed to admit this, please don’t tell ANYONE, but I once left a $20 tip for my hair stylist in Knoxville because I did the math WRONG. I was so nervous, I didn’t even realize how ridiculous $20 was for A TIP until I was in the car and suddenly regained my ability to figure a tip in my head.

There are instances too numerous to count where my tip anxiety has or could come into play. I’d never use a skycap or bellhop to help with luggage because of that awkward moment after they’ve lugged all your bags and then they just stand there waiting for a tip. Thank goodness I don’t live in a city where taxi cabs are a primary means of transportation, I couldn’t bear to have to figure a tip! Have you ever been someplace where there is someone in the bathroom handing out towels for you to dry your hands after you used the restroom! That is THE WORST. I’ll hold my pee to avoid having to deal with a washroom attendant.

I did a little research and found many websites that explain how much to properly tip. While this information is helpful, it doesn’t give me the ability to do math in my head under pressure. I found one website that has tip cards! Genius! My luck, though, I’d lose the tip card, emptying the contents of my purse frantically searching for it and SWEATING. All the while, the cashier stands there wondering why I don’t just figure the tip in my head and not-so-secretly thinks I’m an idiot.

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Wonder Dorks

Written on April 15, 2008 by Jennifer in confession, marriage

Every night before the kids’ bedtime, the whole family relaxes on the couch and watches one episode of Thomas, Max and Ruby, or Wonder Pets. I’m not sure who likes the cartoons more, Carson or Tate and me.

Here’s a snippet of a recent conversation between Wonder Dork #1 and Wonder Dork #2:

Tate: “Can we watch both Wonder Pets episodes? I haven’t seen the one where the they save the kangaroo.”

Me: “Oooh! It’s a really good one! It’s kind of a tear-jerker, though. It all works out in the end, luckily. They have celery on the barbie when they find the kangaroo’s mommy.”

We looked at each other and realized to our horror that any semblence of cool that we liked to pretend still existed had at that moment gone up in poof of smoke.

Since we had already lost our membership in the cool club, Tate and I belted out all the lyrics to the Wonder Pets songs.

(Just shut up. okay?!) (Don’t pretend that you don’t tear up at Wonder Pets occasionally and sing along, too.) (And I’m sorry if I gave away the ending to the kangaroo episode. I probably should have given a spoiler alert.)

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Throwing Caution to the Wind

Written on March 10, 2008 by Jennifer in confession, Little Monkeys, Pictures, Quirky Me

In a move very uncharacteristic of my food-safety obsessiveness, I allowed Carson to lick the batter from the oatmeal cookies. (Breathe Shauna, breathe.)

Y let her daughter do it on the reassurance from her commenters that the evildoer Sal Monella would keep away.

[picture removed]

I’m pleased to report that we are diarrhea and emergency room free.

I’m noticing that my rule-breaking self appears to be on a downward spiral. First the “borrowing” of Internet access, now the licking of contaminated batter. I am out. of. control.

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I’ve Never Seen “The Sound of Music.” Really.

Written on December 3, 2007 by Jennifer in confession, Spare Time Junk

Welcome! So glad you found your way here! Have a seat, make yourself comfy.

Hey you! Don’t put your drink down in my sidebars! You’ll leave a ring.

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I read this post by kellyo75 last week and she admitted to having never seen Say Anything.

I’ll pause for a moment while you regain your composure. Breathe deeply. Deeeeeply. In. And out. In. And out. Atta girl. I’m not certain how that’s possible either to not have seen Say Anything.

Feeling better now? Good.

While I can’t imagine life not knowing the quirkiness that is Lloyd Dobler, I can appreciate that not all people have seen the movies that I find to be quite enjoyable. With that said, I hope that I won’t cause more hyperventilation when I confess that I’ve never seen The Sound of Music. Really. In fact, I have very little desire to see it. I’m just not that into musicals.

“The hills are alive with the sound of music….” blah, blah, blah.

Also, I’ve never seen Braveheart. You know, the bloody painted faces and Mel Gibson flick. I assume that this won’t cause you to lose sleep, but I just thought I’d mention it since my husband finds it unbelievable that this is a movie I’ve never seen.

Thinking about these movies I haven’t seen made me start reflecting on overrated movies. *stares inquisitively while tapping chin with index finger* Here is my pick for the most overrated movie ever…and the award goes to….

There’s Something About Mary.

*uses index finger to fake gagging*

“There’s something about paying hard earned money to sit and watch that turd of a movie” is more like it.

*more gagging*

I remember sitting in the theatre, after having heard that it was THE FUNNIEST MOVIE EVER!, and thinking to myself that I wanted to leave or gouge my eyes out. But since I’d paid, I stayed (and left my eyes alone), hoping against hope that the movie would improve. It didn’t.

I feel the same way about those Meet the Parents movie.

*barforama*

I guess I’m just not that into Ben Stiller.

So let’s get to the discussion, what movies haven’t you seen that everyone else in the entire world (including Lichtenstein) has seen? OR!!! Even better…what movies have you seen and wish that you hadn’t? (I hear Knocked Up is as good as There’s Something About Mary…anyone? Anyone??)

Discuss.

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Bless Her Heart, She Can Be Such an A*sshole

Written on November 29, 2007 by Jennifer in confession, Mom Wars, Quirky Me

This is a post that I really, really wish weren’t true. I’d take it back if I could.

Yesterday, I went completely ballistic, as in totally bat shit crazy, at the library. (And it had nothing to do with the mommies at storytime.)

If there is one thing I hate, it’s late fees. And if there is one thing I hate even more than late fees, is being charged a late fee that I did not actually incur. So when the librarian told me when I was attempting to check out that I had $8 in late fees that I’m certain was an error, I lost it.

Lost it.

Yelling. (I’m pretty sure I said things like, “I’m going to give THEM a piece of my mind.” And, “This place is so stupid. We’re NEVER coming back.” *cowering*What do you have to do, return books a week early to avoid a late fee?” Oh. Yes. I. Did.)

Rolling my eyes.

Stomping.

Huffing.

Name calling.

At the librarian.

In front of the storytime mommies.

In front of my children.

It’s as if my wack-job alter-ego, Trixie LaRue had taken over.

As I’m writing this, it’s only been about two hours since the incident and I’m extremely remorseful and embarrassed. This part of my personality, the part that can blow a fuse without a moment’s notice, is something I hadn’t seen in a long time. It’s something that I’m ashamed of and something that I wish I knew how to control.

There are several instances that I’ve completely lost my cool. Yelling at the man who said some off-color things to my friends and me in an LA restaurant at 2:30 AM, at the beyotch cashier at Kroger, at a friend who changed plans on me. Each of these incidences I had reason to be angry, but my reaction was completely uncalled for. Recalling each of these events still puts a knot in my stomach, I can feel my cheeks flush from the embarrassment.

I wish I could describe what happens in these moments where the anger portion of my brain suddenly becomes unleashed from the logical and sane portion. When I say suddenly, I really do mean suddenly. It’s not as if I was already angry or stewing from another injustice, but without warning I’m shouting and making a complete ass of myself. In an instant I can go from perfectly calm to raging lunatic. As I’m in the throes of my tirade, I realize I should stop. Somehow I just keep ranting, though, knowing how idiotic I am acting, wishing I could stop acting like a childish two-year-old.

I’m not sure I can face going back to storytime next week. I made an ass of myself and I don’t know how to get past that embarrassment. Also, I owe the librarian an apology, but I’m not sure if I have the ‘nads to tell her how sorry I am that she was on the receiving end of my tantrum. The sad thing is, is that Carson had actually really enjoyed storytime yesterday, participating during the songs and interacting with the children. Also, the other moms and I actually had a conversation and I was feeling really great about the day. Then I go and act like such a jerk. Because of $8.

I’ve been imagining all day that after I left, the librarians were in the break room saying, “Bless her heart, she was being such an asshole!” That at least puts a little smile on my face.

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