I’m completely overwhelmed with every aspect of my life lately and I need to simplify things so I quit Deep South Moms and I’m going to stop posting here for a while, maybe for good. I’m keeping IzzyMom open and whatever I have to say, I’ll say over there. In short, I’m just not one of those blogging maniacs that can crank shit out 24-7. I was just plain nuts to think I could keep two blogs plus run The Green Mom Review and write for Deep South Moms. Nucking futs. Thanks to those of you that have been incredibly loyal and didn’t give up on me and my harebrained ideas about moving all over the blogosphere. I’m an idiot. ’nuff said.

Last Sunday on Mother’s Day, I awoke around noon and was greeted with a fantastic breakfast (that means BACON), fresh coffee, gorgeous pink Gerber daisies (my favorite) and the sweetest little treasures from my children.

Accompanying the gifts from my daughter was a card/drawing she made at school that touched my heart—but also made me scratch my head a bit (see highlighted parts).

It read:

I love my mommy sooooo much! Her name is Janet. She is fun and pretty. We like to go to the mall and buy clothing together. It’s fun! Sometimes she plays board games with me. My mommy is a great cook, too. My favorite meal she makes is tater tot casserole. My mom makes dinner, does laundry and cleans the house. I’m glad she takes good care of me.

Is that not the sweetest thing you’ve ever read? I know. It is.

The only thing I don’t understand why she makes me sound like a housewifey mall rat who favors food from the Michelle Duggar cookbook of white trashy recipes?

Allow me to elaborate…

We never go clothes shopping at the mall. Well, actually, I did recently take the kids with me when I went hunting for a purple shirt to wear for the March for Babies but seriously, before that, I can’t remember the last time I dared to take the kids clothes shopping with me. I’M NO MASOCHIST!

Also? I DID a made tater tot casserole — ONCE — but only because I happened to have all the ingredients and I really REALLY didn’t want to make burgers or meatloaf again. It was okay but nobody seemed all that jazzed about it. Yes, I noted the recipe while watching “18 Kids and Counting”  but hello? Tater Tot casserole? That’s just embarrassing and frankly not the sort of thing I’d want the whole world to know about — not including YOU , of course — because I trust that we will never speak of this again. RIGHT???

It was really very generous of my daughter to say I’m a great cook but just like that business about cleaning and doing laundry? It’s kind of not accurate. I’m a bad cook and I really try NOT to clean or do laundry. Must be wishful thinking on her part… Poor kid.

Don’t get me wrong. I thought T’s card was beyond awesome. She said all those nice things (factual errors aside), which I loved—but you have to admit…it’s comedy gold.

Now that part about being fun and pretty? That part is totally true :)

I force my children to watch Mystery Diagnosis with me every day. Okay…I don’t FORCE them, as in tying them up and propping their eyelids open with toothpicks, but I turn it on and if they don’t want to watch it? Too bad because Mystery Diagnosis is the most awesomely awesome show on TV (aside from Gossip Girl and Trust Me—which is awesome because it’s awesome and also because Tom Cavanagh, whom I used to regard as somewhat lizardy looking, is cute)

I hate, hate, HATE the term “make love” as well as any variation of it.  It just sounds so…gross…and maybe even a little skeevy. Am I alone on this? Am I weird? Maybe I am because I think I’m the only woman on the planet who does NOT get all squiggedy over the word “panties.”

Panties, panties, panties! Take off your PANTIES!

See? Not a single shudder.

But that other one… YICKETY YICK YICK YICK.

There’s only one exception and it’s this song. I like it despite the fact that the guy says the dreaded ML words ten thousand times. But other than that? DO NOT SAY.

I’m addicted to Pepperidge Farm Bordeaux cookies. I could eat a whole bag by myself and were it not for my kids swarming around me every time I open the bag, I WOULD eat them all by myself.

In other food news, I’m craving a gyro. I haven’t had one in years. Freaky meat on a spool = NOM NOM NOM.

And finally, there’s only one more episode until I’m all caught up with Doctor Who. Am sad. But for the love of all things good and decent, do NOT tell me what happens. Also? Harboring a teeny WTF crush on David Tennant.

That is all.

Well duh. Of course I’m alive. Dead people don’t sit down at computers to write in their blogs. Or do they? I should probably kick that one over to zombie expert Jenny.

Anyway, I’ve been engaged in a mad sleep-a-thon. A sleep-off, if you will. And guess what? I WIN. Why? Because I have undoubtedly slept more in the past three days than ANY of you. And that’s why I feel alive. ALIVE! This sleeping business…it’s really marvelous, as Lucy Ricardo would say. She always says things are marvelous. But the sleep? It really is something to marvel at because when you get enough of it? You feel SO. MUCH. BETTER.

You see, without going into too much detail, I’ve been dealing with an issue that has turned my whole life upside down — boy you turn me — inside out — and round and round…

SORRY. When I’m well-rested, I sometimes burst into song. That it was a Diana Ross song is just unfortunate. Disregard.

So yeah, this issue, which is not completely resolved as of yet, has stressed me out to the nth degree and apparently, my body and mind revolted and decided I should sleep. And sleep I did. And I feel trés awesome today. Maybe even happy.

But? I’m camping with Brownies this weekend and I’m feeling very apprehensive about that. I don’t know why, though. Even last year, when I had both my period AND a raging sinus infection, I still had fun. Well, minus the snoring…

Someone snored like a freight train. I didn’t sleep a wink and my daughter cried because she couldn’t sleep either. So there we are, whispering in the dark about the snoring while she cries and I debate setting my ears on fire. That part wasn’t fun.

Soooo…I went online today and bought some earplugs made especially to block out snoring—a pair for my daughter and a pair for myself. All I can say is they better work because I paid a small fortune to make sure they’re here before we leave on Friday.

And if they don’t? I’m camping in the momvan.

I’m not a huge fan of the vegetables. Actually, let me rephrase that… I’m not a huge fan of cooking the vegetables.

Or buying them.

I don’t know how to tell a good *insert random vegetable name* from a bad one or an overripe one from an overpriced one—actually, vegetables seem to be quite a bargain to me and I’m perplexed when I hear people bitching about the price of peppers or avocados or whatever.

Anyway, to reiterate, I don’t hate vegetables. I just really like them a WHOLE lot better when someone else buys them (because they probably KNOW how to NOT buy bad veggies) and even more so, I like when SOMEONE ELSE cooks them.

Me? I typically mutilate them first and then proceed to undercook, overcook or underseason them and generally render the poor vegetables inedible—unless they come in a bag, drowning with processed cheese sauce in which case, they’re kind of already inedible by most standards..

Also, I must confess…I am of the mind that just about everything in life worth eating can be improved with a little hot oil and a skillet. Potatoes? They’re good. Crispy hash browns, however, are heavenly.

Salmon? It’s okay. Salmon in a crusty, crunchy pan-fried little croquette thingy? Nomnom-a-licious.

Toasted cheese sandwich? Meh. Grilled cheese sandwich? Far superior in every way.

As luck should have it,  today, while perusing my iGoogle page and reading news (an excellent procrastination tool, if I do say) I came across a recipe for veggie pancakes on NPR. Naturally, this appeals to me per my unbridled love for all things crispy, crunchy and savory and I really want to try to make them but I’m reticent…

First, I’ll have to buy all the vegetables, which we’ve already established is a challenge for me; then I’ll have to cut them, grate them—whatever—without losing a digit (or any precious knuckleskin) and of course, try not to burn them which, in case I didn’t mention, is always hard because I am an impatient cook who frequently jacks up the heat “just for a second” and then wanders away to screw off on Twitter or read email or check out the news on iGoogle. The ceremonial ringing of the smoke alarm usually ensues.

Urggghhh. Maybe next week…

When your husband’s doctor’s office calls and says they need to speak to him about the labs from his recent physical at his earliest convenience. Well, he’s out of town and didn’t put me on his forms as a person they can discuss his medical stuff with so now I’m sitting here wondering WTH is up and no idea when I’ll know.

We finally joined the rest of the western world and got a Wii (secondhand from a friend) and for the last couple days, I’ve been slowly (because mah mad technonerd skillz apparently don’t extend to video games of any kind and my kids can attest to this) learning how to get around in and use it.

I’ve decided I really like Wii tennis. You get the satisfaction of wacking a ball, which I’ve always loved, but without all the sweat and sun, both of which I hate. My fair skin can’t take the blazing Florida sun and well, I think two words will sum up why I hate perspiring — BOOB SWEAT. While I wasn’t blessed with abundance in that department, I got way more than my fair share of sweat glands in that area. Well, actually, I don’t know if that’s true because I don’t ask other women about boob sweat but if that sweaty line that appears on my shirts, just below my bra, is any indicator… Um, let’s just say I hate sweating and leave it at that.

I also love Wii boxing. I never knew beating the crap out of a fake and not very human-looking person could be so elating, so…satisfying. Apparently, I have a lot of aggression to get out. Or maybe I just like boxing? Regardless, knocking out my two dimensional opponents has brought me a sick amount of joy these past two days.

Today, I finally ventured into Wii Fit territory. Apparently, I’m the most unbalanced person to ever walk the earth. The damn thing asked me if I fall down a lot when walking, which I DO NOT, thankyouverymuch!

Actually, like most people, I have one leg slightly longer than the other. Except it’s slightly more than just slightly. Apparently, the Wii doesn’t know that humans are rarely perfectly symmetrical. Nonetheless, I seem to have made it this far in life with my supposedly poor balance and compensate just fine. And I’m still mad about that falling remark, Nintendo!

The upside is that I’m in a normal weight range. The downside? I’ve gained three pounds since my last doctor’s appt in December. Looks like the Wii and I will be spending a lot more time together as I set my “goal” to lose 5 lbs. in two weeks.

I’m embarrassed to admit that after falling asleep with my son tonight for about 4 hours, I woke up to soreness in muscles I didn’t even know I had. Gah. No wonder I hate exercise. Where’s mah Aleve?

On Tuesday April 7th, the world unexpectedly lost a precious little girl named Maddie Spohr, age 17 months. I wrote about Maddie’s passing over on IzzyMom a couple days ago and my heart continues to ache for Maddie’s parents, Heather and Mike Spohr. I can’t even begin to imagine what they are going through right now.

In this dark and sad time, though, the kindness and generosity of people across the internet and around the world (most of whom didn’t know Maddie any more than I did) has been nothing short of awe-inspiring.

People have pulled together to help the Spohr’s web site remain up after being taken down for excessive traffic by the thoroughly uncompassionate Bluehost.

In less than three days, people have given upwards of $25,000 in donations to the March of Dimes, which Maddie’s mom requested in lieu of flowers.

People have come together to form teams to participate in the March of Dimes ‘March for Babies’ on April 25th and raise money in Maddie’s name.

People have put up web pages aggregating all the hundreds of posts about Maddie (scroll way down to see the list).

People have set up a donation site to help with Maddie’s funeral and memorial service costs (donations STILL needed! Details here)

People have spearheaded meal delivery campaigns for the Spohrs so that they don’t need to worry about cooking or grocery shopping.

I’m awed by all the good in the world. Thank you, thank you, thank you to all you wonderful people out there. You’ve all helped to make sure Maddie Spohr, the beloved little girl with the captivating smile and big blue-green eyes, will NEVER be forgotten.

If you want to help, there are many things you can do:

• Sponsor our Friends of Maddie “March for Babies” team or any of the dozens of other teams from around the country that are walking in Maddie’s name on April 25.

• Donate to help offset the cost of Maddie’s funeral expenses. This would help the Spohrs tremendously.

• Donate $5 towards a gift card for a restaurant in Mike and Heather’s area that delivers because eating is not optional. You gotta eat. Please email me (janet at greenmommedia dot com) OR direct message me on Twitter (@thecaffeinatrix) if you’d like to take part in this. I’ll send a card to them (with your name included) along with a restaurant gift card. I’m hoping to raise a minimum of $75 because everything is expensive in LA.

Also…

A P.O. Box has also been set up in Heather and Mike’s name for cards, gift certificates and the like. The box is located inside a UPS store so packages are accepted as well.

Mike & Heather Spohr
11870 Santa Monica Blvd. #106-514
West Los Angeles, CA 90025

Thank you for your kindness, compassion and generosity :)

Madeline Alice Spohr

Don’t you sometimes just want to write a list of all the things/people you hate, piss you off or just plain annoy you? I do.

But then I’m all “Oh, but that’s so negative. I don’t want to be THAT person…all I HATE THIS and I HATE THAT!”

And then I hate myself for being so wimpy and spineless because seriously, why should I care? I’m feeling the hate and I want to share it and sharing is good—or at least that’s what they tell you in kindergarten and kindergarten teachers don’t lie, right? Because I would really hate them if they did.

So yeah, I’m gonna share the hate. And if  you start feeling the urge to lecture me about it, you should probably just not—or I’ll add you to my list.

The short list (because I’d hate to blow my whole hatewad in one shot):

• I hate when people walk away when you’re still talking to them. It makes me want to roundhouse kick them in their stupid, departing kidneys. Why? Because it’s just rude. Let’s roleplay for a sec… You be talking to me about something, anything, and I’ll just meander away while you’re talking. Makes ya wanna kick me, right? I knew it. You’re my kind of people.

• I hate when people send me an email or use the contact form on one of my other sites and try to convince me of how wrong I am about something BY INSULTING ME and then they link to their site which is, presumably, being left as a point of reference to my supposed wrongness and THEN? They throw in a little PR blurb about themselves. It makes me all “Dude. Do you seriously think I’m going listen to you or feature your product/service after you just talked a bunch of shit to me? You’re a total social moron and if I cared about you at all, I’d send you a copy of Dale Carnegie’s “How to Win Friends and Influence People” and try to save you from your own stupidity but since I hate you? I won’t.

• People who work in stores and know NOTHING about what the store sells and are completely unapologetic about their ignorance. EXAMPLE: I go to Office Depot to buy some ink for this Kodak behemoth of a printer/scanner/copier because while I don’t need to print at this moment, I do need to scan stuff and this stupid piece of shit won’t let you SCAN until you buy more ink. Scanning is a completely inkless process and yet I’m held hostage until I throw down for ink. How am I going to put all those old pix that showcase the fact that I used to be hot and cellulite-free on Facebook without a scanner? Note to self: I also hate Kodak. Anyway, I search the ink section only to find there is ONE pack of Kodak ink and it’s for some other shitty Kodak device. So I ask some Office Depot dude zipping around on one of those old people scooters if they carry Kodak ink and he doesn’t know. Whatever they have out is “probably” all they have, he says. He waves in the general direction of the aisle I just came from and zips away. Must be nice to get paid for being lazy, stupid and useless. I’m certain there’s a cubicle at AIG with his name on it. So yeah, I hate Kodak, I hate Office Depot and I hate that stupid fuck on the scooter.

• I hate people that see you heading toward a certain register at a store and haul ass to get there first, even though you were closer. I hate you and if I thought I could get away with it, I’d totally set your hair on fire without a second thought. This also applies to people who pull this same shit with parking spaces. They get extra hate points if they’re one tiny little woman driving alone in a Hummer, Suburban or Excursion.

Wow…that felt really good. I can feel the hateclouds dispersing already. I highly recommend making a hatelist, if only to make you feel less hatey and more tolerant of the things you hate.

Wait! Do I feel a brainstorm coming on? YESSSS!!!! Seminars, books-on-tape, infomercials, Home Shopping Network—an entire empire built on getting people to recognize their hate, vent their hate and eventually be at peace with their hateyness. I’m gonna be a zillionaire.

(Actually, Walt is turning in his cryogenic chamber thing and you can bet when they finally thaw him out and bring him back to life, he’s gonna be pissed about this)

Every now and then, I feel the need to acknowledge the things I don’t understand. At the top of the list is Disney Eggs. Yes, I said Disney EGGS. Like chicken eggs. With Disney characters stamped on them. Am I the only one who finds this incredibly (and edibly) surreal? And really, just WHY? Are they supposed to be collectible? Heh. Or served whole so kids can see the characters stamped on them and get all excited about eggs?  And since when does Disney dabble in agriculture?

Maybe it’s one of those bizarre licensing agreement situations, like Hannah Montana and High School Musical macaroni and cheese, where you have to wonder…WHO SIGNED OFF ON THIS??? Because it’s just dumb.

Anyway, I’m probably the last person on the planet to know about these, in which case, forgive my ignorance. It’s merely a case of my studiously avoiding the Disney channel—and clearly, if this is what they’re selling, I’m 100% correct in doing so because again…DUMB.

Would you buy these? (And I’m asking all you normal people out there, not the folks who obsessively hoard Disney stuff)

Like many of you, I watched Obama on Leno last night. Unlike many of you, I fail to see what the big fuss is about. The media-generated moral outrage at President Obama’s Special Olympics remark is just that…media-generated. Additionally, it’s somewhat ironic that the same party of people who think it’s hilarious to mass email jokes and comics regarding black stereotypes in reference to Obama are suddenly all up in arms because he dared to utter the words ‘Special Olympics’ on a comedy talk show.

I watched Obama on Leno. In fact, I watched it twice and Obama’s remark about the Special Olympics was clearly in reference Leno praising Obama’s bowling score in a patronizing way (jokingly, of course). It was so obvious to me that the remark was directed at Leno—how anyone could have interpreted it as a slur against those who particpate in the Special Olympics is beyond me.

Edited to add:

Leno joking praised Obama’s bowling scores and then Obama said  “That was like the Special Olympics or something” while gesturing to Leno with his left hand, indicating that he was addressing Leno’s mocking praise.

You can see this exchange at 22 seconds into the following video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vE0yAEvVsUo

I know Obama has issued an apology but that’s to be expected. Even though he didn’t do anything wrong, IMO, he knows how the media works and he knew, probably as soon as the words came out of his mouth, that a shitstorm was going to ensue, warranted or not.

I could understand why people would be outraged if Obama had truly made some kind of hurtful remark about the Special Olympics. My own son is in a special ed preschool program for a speech delay and I worked with developmentally delayed and autistic adults for over five years so it’s not as though I don’t understand or that I’m not empathetic because I am.  And believe me, if I really felt like Obama had insulted those with special needs or those who participate in the Special Olympics, I would be upset, as well.

But I just don’t think he did. If anything he was referencing how Leno was speaking to him and drawing a parallel with how people treat folks with developmental disabilities, which is, per my observations, very patronizingly. I fail to see how that would be hurtful or insulting. It’s certainly not untrue.

There’s simply nothing to be angry about—there was NO disparaging remark—and more than anything, this whole brouhaha is a distraction from the real issues at hand (although you can’t blame the media for wanting something else to beat to death. The nonstop 24-7 news coverage of AIG and Bernie Madoff IS getting pretty tiresome)

Can we move on now?

You’re at Teaser #4 out of 6. If you’re wondering what the hell I’m talking about, click on the curtains and follow the purple brick road. OR if you like your surprises to make sense, start at the beginning by going to  Teaser #1.

Either way, all roads lead to awesomeness!

I was reading the paper online this morning and came across this article about a study that says people in committed relationships, on the whole, quickly look away when they encounter an attractive member of the opposite sex. Apparently, they typically don’t even know they’re doing it; that it’s some sort of automatic response, presumably to “buffer against infidelity.”

So I’m reading this and I’m like “Hey—I do that” and it does feel sort of..automatic. I mean I see men with women, looking at OTHER women all the time and they’re totally cavalier about it and I? Am looking away like I’m some kind of schoolgirl, which I’m SO NOT.  But are those guys just uncommitted cads???

Actually, I’ve noticed my husband looking away lots of times and I just figured he was trying to be respectful (or not provoke any kind of painful elbowing to the ribs, as his ex girlfriend was fond of doing to him) by not blatantly gawking at other attractive women in my presence, which I thought, you know, was pretty cool.  Me? Naive? Poppycock!

Now that I know about this, perhaps I should test myself and see if I react the same. Might be fun…heh. Or maybe it won’t make any difference at all and I’ll be all “Oh! What lovely shelving this store has!”

Why do people turn into such buttheads when they become famous? Someone I knew fairly well years ago went on to become a big fish in his particular pond and on more than one occasion, I have been standing within feet of him, within HEY-I-TOTALLY-KNOW-YOU distance and not a single word of acknowledgment from him.

Of course, I must seem like an asshole to famous people because I won’t fawn all over them—but why should I? If you sit on a toilet every day and take a crap, you’re no better than anyone else. End of story. So I guess being ignored was supposed to be some sort of punishment for my refusal to pee myself over being in his presence?

Whatevs. It was a long time ago. Amongst other things, I now raise children, the future of America—you know, the people who will be wiping our collective asses when we’re old and demented? I just can’t bring myself to care all that much about fame and celebrity.

Anyway, it so happens this person friend-requested me the other day on Facebook. I’m truly dumbfounded because what? NOW you want to be my friend? NOW you want to acknowledge my existence? Seriously?

Well, from what I’ve heard, you’re still a big doucher.

Friend request FAIL!