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August 26, 2004
Mother of the Yeaarrrr
Lani, writing from the very glamorous closet...
Those of you who have sauntered over from my old blog might remember my whole Mother of the Yeaarrrrrr schtick. Well, for those of you who were worried, I'm still Mother of the Yeeeaaarrrrr.
Translation for the newbies: It's a miracle no one has taken my children away.
Case in point. Yesterday. Fish and I decided we were going to be Good Parents, and instead of keeping the children locked in the closet all day like usual (um, I feel compelled to clarify that I'm kidding about the closet thing, lest someone actually come here and try to take my children away) we went to Strong Museum in Rochester. For those of you unfamiliar with Strong Museum, it is to fun activities for children what the Hellmouth was for demons.
For those of you without your Buffy References Translation Guide: It's like Chuck E. Cheese on amphetamines.
I'll just give you a brief rundown of my MotY nomination-worthy experiences yesterday.
1. Promised the kids we'd leave at 9:00 am. Actual departure time: 12n.
2. To save time, I didn't shower, simply put my hair up in a scrunchy and had an imaginary but still powerfully humiliating run-in with Sarah Jessica Parker. (For those of you without your Sex and The City Reference Guide... suffice it to say, scrunchies in public are apparently air-quote bad end air-quote, and thus, the staple of my hair style since having children is now the source of countless hours of indignity and shame. Thanks, SJP!)
3. Ran errands (to bank, to gas station, to grocery store for snacks) with children impatiently screaming "Mooo-zeeee-ummmm" in the back of the car as I yelled at them to be quiet or I'd turn around and go home. (Retrospect - it might not have been a bad idea to have turned around and gone home.)
4. Gave both Sweetness and Light lots of soda (total MotY moment) and a bit of chocolate ice cream. Sweetness went to the bathroom with me at a rest stop. Light asked to go to the bathroom as we were leaving said rest stop. I think to myself, "I brought fresh Pull-Ups. She'll be okay." Those of you who are parents might know where that's going. For those of you who are not parents, I'll just build the tension by moving on.
5. Get stuck not once, but twice, in super-slow construction zone. Curse, then apologize to children. Curse again, apologize to children. Children curse, and I tell them not to use bad language. I am Hypocrisy, hear me roar.
6. Arrive at Mooo-zeeee-ummm to find Light's Pull-Up, jeans and car seat are... well, use your imagination. Yay me - I brought clean Pull-Ups. MotY moment - I failed to bring clean clothes, cleaning supplies, disinfectant/deodorizer, de-humidifier and a hair dryer. Plus, Light has chocolate ice cream stains all down her front, as does Sweetness. Combine this with my unshowered scrunchy look, and we've gone from Nice Family Going Out For The Day to the White Trash Family Trying To Put On a Good Show For the Child Protective Services People.
7. In the History House (or whatever the hell they call it) Light ran off. I chased after her - immediately. Saw her go, off I went. She was nowhere. NO. WHERE. I hailed down a Mooo-zeee-ummm worker and told her my daughter is missing. I gave her description: 2 years old, light brown hair, pink and blue striped shirt. Moo-zeee-ummm worker tried not to roll her eyes at my blind panic, got on the horn and announced a code 66. "Little girl, 2 years old, pink shirt." And I say, "Pink and blue striped shirt." She looked at me, rolled her eyes. "Nice scrunchy." Light showed up two seconds later. Crisis averted. But still.
(Okay. She didn't actually say "Nice scrunchy." That was a projection of my own insecurities both as a mother and a woman. But she didn't correct the description, which pissed me off. Bitch. Points for me: I didn't actually call her a bitch. In front of the children.)
8. On the way home, play the soundtrack from Buffy The Vampire Slayer, and allow my children to sing with gusto the I'm free if that bitch dies part because... well... I think it's cute. Hey - there are only so many times you listen to Elmopalooza. And, in my book, there's nothing cuter than hearing a two-year-old sing, I've got a theory... that it's a demon...
Yep. This is my existence. I'm Mother of the Yeeeeaaaarrrrrrr.
With a scrunchy.
:::sigh::::
:) Lani
Posted by Lani at 8:48 AM | Comments (4)
Comments
Once again, Buffy references. Hmmm... strange. The person I know as Lani HATES Buffy. Absolutely HATES Buffy. The Lani I know is more of an Ally McBeal girl. The Lani I know wouldn't lower herself to watch an episode of Buffy. I can only assume that you are an impostor. Please bring the real Lani back. Please bring back my Babs. Sheesh, the next thing I know you'll tell me you want to Syracuse because of the basketball team!
Posted by: Babs at August 26, 2004 1:51 PM
Okay, that was like seven years ago. And I never hated Buffy. I just wouldn't watch it. I was a snob. I admit it. Now, I've learned the error of my ways, and I am born again.
And I did go to SU because of the basketball team. So there. Pfffft.
Love ya, Babs!
Posted by: Lani at August 26, 2004 2:06 PM
Buffy is the best tv show that has ever and will ever be on television.
Period. End of story. :-)
Marianne
Posted by: Marianne at August 27, 2004 10:02 AM
*snerk* Bless your heart. *g*
You realize-- this is the beauty of being a mommy. There is always someone out there who has One of Those Days that makes you feel immeasureably better about your own parenting skills.
I now owe you One of Those Days, doll.
Barb
(who is procrastinating packing for the enforced vacation she doesn't really want to go on)
Posted by: Barb at August 27, 2004 2:54 PM
