Category: jools (also a beloved child)

vacation. all i ever wanted.

vacation. all i ever wanted.

Posted on by wrekehavoc

we went on a magical mystery tour of sorts over the past week. i’ve got a ton to say about a lot of things, but i suspect it will come over a few days, as i also planned brilliantly and have an IVIG treatment today. yep, i’ve been home a grand total of 14 hours, and i’m off to fun and frolic all over again. if you can call being hooked up to an IV for 5 hours fun and frolic. yippee.

but some of the places we went, in no particular order:

fire museum of maryland;

please touch museum (with apologies to my dear roommate from college — we didn’t quite get it together to go together for lots of reasons. major bummer.);

hersheypark, including the new Boardwalk waterpark, which was a lesson in how not to be prepared for consumer demand;

a visit to allaire state park and a ride on the train (and a personal lesson about switching tracks);

a lakewood blueclaws game;

a visit to atlantic city (where the kids accidentally walked through caesars’ casinos and we were escorted out — but all we wanted to do was go and get some taffy and take the kids to yet another rainforest cafe);

a stay in wildwood crest at a kitschy 1950s-era hotel, and;

a ride home on the cape may ferry.

and i wonder why i’m tired.

open letter to mattel

open letter to mattel

Posted on by wrekehavoc

dear mattel,

i’m sure you aren’t having a great week, what with recalls all over the place and the possibility of a really terrible financial downturn looming for you, other toy companies, toy stores, and the like. no one likes to see major companies flipping about like fish gasping for air. and right now, it’s really easy to point the finger and say BAD CHINA! there’s poison in our pet foods, poison in our people food, medicine and toothpaste, my gosh, plenty of tires are faulty, lead in baby bibs, and now this toy thing. just makes you wonder who, if any, of the residents are running the proverbial asylum, huh.

but i have to wonder how much of this you brought on yourself?

i know, i know. you did it because there was demand for it. american consumers clamor for cheap. they clamor for cool. they clamor for things, and you only want to deliver. it’s as american as ronald reagan, a guy i sometimes want to blame for these sorts of things. what does the gipper have to do with any of this, you wonder? the dude’s long been dead.

but you see, he isn’t. not really. somewhere in our history, he kicked tom joad the hell out of our collective consciousness and took up residence. see, he’s now the one who lives in every american who feels entitled to a certain lifestyle that is wildly beyond his or her means. he lives in every citizen who feels like they ought to have everything — now — and for the cheapest price possible. he lives in every person in this nation — maybe this world — who ignores the real costs of good and services in their daily lives. so what if some eight year old is working in a factory? so what if they’re putting diethylene glycol into cough medicine? if i can get lots of bling-bling at walmart for 50% less than i can at joe’s mom and pop store, man, i’m there.

so, following this ethos, you did what every american company tries to do — make a profit. nothing wrong with that, right? but who knew making a profit could get so complicated? doing business overseas — well, nothing wrong with that i suppose. cut costs because you don’t have to pay people a decent wage. [check.] then that company probably has to put the squeeze on their workers to make a profit. maybe put the squeeze on the product quality. maybe do some subcontracts with others who do things very cheaply. lead paint? no problem! [check.]

and of course, all with your consumer in mind. who are, in your case, children. often young children who are known to put things in their mouths, or ears, or up the dog’s ass, for christsake. that’s what kids do. even the most supervised child in the world will manage to do something completely insane with a toy in that one second you close your eyes to sneeze or blink. so how could you allow your designers to make toys using rare-earth magnets? these puppies, smaller and more powerful, can kill a child if s/he swallows it. period. i’m stunned.

and now, the biggie. see, you don’t have to live with my kids. but i do. and right now, between thomas the tank engine trains that were recalled, polly pockets that have just been called home, and even a barbie that my daughter has being sent away, my house is not the happiest place on earth. i just spent 2 hours with my eight year old howling. her favorite polly pocket toy has to go away. well, actually, three of them plus a barbie. but this is her absolute favorite.

and we parents, sometimes, we take toys away from our kids in an effort to teach them to behave. it’s a discipline thing, and we sometimes are in the difficult position of punishing/ teaching, our kids a lesson. only sadly, the kids are now being punished because american corporations couldn’t learn a thing or two about international commerce. i wish i could stick each and every one of you in a room right now with my screaming daughter. no food; no toilet; no way out; and one very pissed-off little girl.

it might be a lesson you’d not soon forget.

yours truly,

wreke

hi, my name is sisyphus

hi, my name is sisyphus

Posted on by wrekehavoc

i have this problem, you see. it’s not as critical as world peace, or hunger, or the state of the planet. i recognize that. but it is something that bothers me, all the same.

let me tell you about today, for example.

today, after waking, getting hellboy dressed and fed and ready for school, i got BC showered (well, she does it herself, but i’m the prodder), fed, lunch made, and carted off to gymnastics. then, i ended up at three different supermarkets. HUH, you ask? well, giant didn’t have meat or chicken that we needed, nor did it have the particular bread that BS wanted (nothing exotic, but they were out of it). i stopped then into whole foods, which had lovely meat and poultry, but still not the bread. so, off to safeway for aforementioned bread.

after putting away the groceries, i literally peeled and chopped five pounds of carrots. (i bought the 5 pound organic bag instead of the two pounder. oops.) i put the whole chicken into the oven (after preparing it, of course), followed by some carrots; i made some really wonderful carrotty-chocolate cupcakes (which sound gross but which are actually really yummy), and a really, truly vile sweet carrot salad (make only if you require a homemade emetic). oh, and i washed and cut two pounds of strawberries, too.

then, i did dishes and proceeded to pick up.

[i’ve provided a musical interlude here. otherwise, you’d be bored if i described picking things up. this seems appropriate. although i’ll also include this one, just cos i like it.]

after all of this, i was left with 45 minutes to work on my novel. which i did. but then, i had to pick up BC.

long story short, the chicken wasn’t cooked enough, the carrot salad was, as mentioned before, nasty, and i ended up scrambling eggs for the kids and eating a bowl of cereal. kid bathed; kids read to; kids in bed. there are dishes everywhere, and i feel like whatever i did today meant a whole lot of nothing.

i push the rock up the hill. and down it comes.

don’t get me wrong. i am lucky as hell that i can do this. i kiss the ground that i can do this. but there are some days when, well, i wish i were doing more for the world. like all that education and all that oomph are sort of hiding themselves under a bushel. i want to be involved in my kids’ lives, but i fear that i will start to get over-involved because i lack much of a life of my own. and there’s not much worse than an over-involved mom.

so what to do?

i guess hope the rock doesn’t crash down on my head, for starters.

endeavoring to believe

endeavoring to believe

Posted on by wrekehavoc

we were eating at a restaurant/bar tonight when we saw that the space shuttle endeavor was going to launch at 6:36 p.m. we rushed home so that we could all watch it together. i was very nervous about this. i remember one afternoon in 1986 when my dorm-mates and i had our soap operas interrupted because of a space shuttle launching. and before our eyes, we watched the shuttle explode into a billion fiery pieces. we were all stunned. it was live. on TV.

nothing had ever happened like this to our generation before. previous generations had the question: where were you when Kennedy was shot? and now my generation had: where were you when the Challenger blew up?

college being college, i remember the fresh wave of sick jokes that followed. the only one i recall:

Q: where does christa mcaulife vacation?

A: all over florida.

(i know. no one deserves that.)

i was very nervous about having the kids watch the shuttle launch. nevermind how many successful space launches there have been in my lifetime; i was fixated on the one i saw that didn’t make it. of course, the newscaster was fixated on the teacher in space, who has been waiting patiently for over 20 years for this chance. it made me tear up.

“mama,” BC said, noticing me on the verge of tears, “don’t worry. they’re showing this on TV. they wouldn’t film it if something bad was going to happen.”

if only.

i’m delighted to report, though, that the shuttle launched without a hitch. my kids got to watch a little piece of history.

and somewhere inside of me, a tiny shred of sanity and wonder was restored.

the wonder pets

the wonder pets

Posted on by wrekehavoc

my 4 year old suddenly has discovered the wonder pets. a year late, of course, but we’re a little slow to watch much on Nick. i hate the fact that they show commercials to the preschool set. hate hate HATE it.

linny, tuck, and ming-ming, too. they’re wonder pets and they eat poo.

no, not really. i’m just losing it watching these things which BS is now TIVOing for hellboy’s watching pleasure. thanks to my friend TIVO we can cruise right over those age-appropriate ads on Nick Jr for things like hair replacement, which all preschoolers seriously need.  i suppose the wonder pets aren’t as bad as watching barney (and i remember the vile jurassic entity in his heyday), which made me actually ill. we tried to banish barney from our home when BC was small, but as every friend of hers watched it at daycare, it was impossible. we embraced him, getting some used home videos and a few toys.

the phase passed. thousands rejoiced.

so as a mom, i’ve learned you cannot banish things unless you want them to grow larger than life. i will learn to embrace the wonder pets. i will become one with the wonder pets. i will… i will stop singing every blessed word that emanates from my mouth in a style like the wonder pets do. like: ju-lian. come eat your BREAK-fast!

i can’t stop SING-ing.  this is see-weee-us! 

the worst was when i tried to sing along with one part. only, too bad for me, cos i got the words wrong:

we’re not too big and we’re not too smart. but when we work together we’ve got the right STUFF!

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WONDER PETS!

wait a second. we’re not too smart? that can’t be right. i must be hallucinating.

speaking of hallucinations, am i the only one who is wondering whether college kids get together, get stoned, and watch the wonder pets? it SCREAMS drinking game, just like love boat did when i was, er, when i was watching it in re-runs.  many. years. ago.

anyway, maybe i can use the wonder pets to encourage certain younger family members to help out around the house. i can grab my trusty broom, hand it to the younger hellboy, grab the dustpan, and sing at the top of my happy lungs:

what’s gonna work? TEAMWORK!

wonder pets. it’s a tv show, a chore-helper AND a drinking game.  not that i would ever encourage the latter, of course.

unless anyone wants to come over my house sometime with some mojitos.

back in radio frequency again

back in radio frequency again

Posted on by wrekehavoc

apologies to those who wondered whether i took IVIG treatments and then went off to die somewhere. you know the quote about my demise being a bit premature.

in truth, i was off in NJ. (i realize that for some of you, that might be the same as going off and dying.) for me, a dyed-in-the-wool jersey girl, going to NJ means going home, even if i haven’t actually lived there since 1989. (in fact, in four years, i will have lived here the same amount of time as i lived in NJ. but you’ll never, ever see me calling myself a virginian. nevah. not that there’s anything wrong with it, of course.)

it’s going to a place where people drink cawfee, get decent pizza, and even sometimes go down the shore. since BS abandoned me (okay, okay, take away the divorce papers, BS! — he didn’t really abandon me, he went to see his folks and then go to a poker tournament in AC, followed by a 10 hour train ordeal (he was on a train behind this one) that made him never want to travel trains again in this life or any other), my dear friend from college and the kids and i hung out on saturday and then drove up through a monsoon (and no, i am not making that up) on sunday to get to my folks’ house. (exit 8, for those of you who mind that stuff.)

we had a great visit on monday at my brother the doctor‘s (BTD) house, where we saw my aunt, my cousin steph and her family, and steph’s mom and dad. (and don’t forget my middle brother, who probably should be knighted one day.) steph and i went to college together, so it was pretty funny that we are cousins who turned out to be friends (a concept that still stymies BC a little.) BC ended up getting along really wonderfully with steph’s oldest daughter, who is a year younger than she.

BC also got nipped by my BTD’s psychotic little rat dog (a dog, i would add, that hates my BTD) when she tried to step over him to get out of his way. on the bright side, if you’re going to get bitten by a dog, follow BC’s three solid steps:

1) know the dog that bites you really, really well — well enough to know it isn’t rabid. [check.]

2) get bitten in a house where a doctor is present. [check.]

and finally,

3) get bitten in a house where a veterinarian is present. (AKA steph’s husband.) [check.]

my BTD cleaned and dressed the wound once BC was done swimming; he felt that the pool was going to clean the thing pretty effectively. and steph’s husband pronounced sparky (that would be the aforementioned psychotic little rat dog, and i do say that with affection) to have “a dominance problem.” and so it went.

on tuesday, my aunt and middle brother helped me take the two kids to liberty science center. i started to cry as we approached jersey city on the turnpike — after all, it was the first time i had seen the NYC skyline up close since 1997. i knew exactly what was missing, and i felt that pain right in my gut. but i’m a mom, and i have to buck up unless i want to start answering pesky questions like: “mama, why would anyone want to fly a plane into a building? will someone fly a plane i’m on into a building?” and so on. so i did.

i’d never been to the center, which recently reopened after a renovation. some of the exhibits weren’t finished, so we all got a break on admission costs; however, too bad for us, as about 4,000 (no exaggeration) kids from the five boroughs were visiting on “camp day.” billions of kids from harlem, brownsville, and the like were enjoying the day. i have no problem with kids from any camps visiting; i just wish the influx hadn’t been on the day we were there. but they were. you had to see BC walking down the steps, asking politely kids to please excuse her so that she could pass, only to be ignored a few times. finally, she stuck out her elbow and moved people out of the way. there’s a part of you as a parent that feels horror at such moments (especially since they were kids from a tough place and could have easily beat the crap out of her suburban ass), and yet also a little piece of you that feels proud that your kid is a toughie. but you hide that latter bit because you know it’s not socially acceptable to have your tiny little kid pushing her way through a crowd. [note to self: BC has a career in being an advance person or security for a band.]

btw, liberty science center has a great little room for the 2-6 year old set, where they have hands-on stuff for them to do. but while their exhibits are pretty neat, i found that a lot of them required a lot of reading. without a tour guide or a docent, it is a tough place for a kid to sustain interest unless you have one really super-excited parent. which i was not. once again, a big shout out to my aunt and my hopefully-one-day-beknighted middle brother (who took the day off for this experience, awesome uncle that he is.)

note to liberty science center folks, if you’re out there: if you plan on having thousands of children from camps there, consider closing the center to the public for that day. i have to tell you, i don’t think i’ll be back again if i think the place is going to be overrun. i’m a parent, and i understand that children have field trips. but perhaps you can manage how many classes/camps come at one time so that the other folks who are there don’t feel overrun and overwhelmed. lunchtime was absolutely unreal in your cafe.

we had fun visiting my inlaws and nieces the next day, and we had a little outlet shopping action with grandma the next. we reintroduced grandpa to pad thai and drove grandma crazy (but in a good way, i think.) and i caught BC’s cold. my aforementioned brother (did i mention he ought to be knighted?) took friday and drove us in my car down to the train station at BWI so that i didn’t have to drive most of the way since i felt so awful. (then he took the train back. what a guy.)

so we’re back. i’m sick as a dog. the house is a disaster. but we’re home.

yay, us.

jesus wept. and G-d laughs Her Ass off.

jesus wept. and G-d laughs Her Ass off.

Posted on by wrekehavoc

somedays, i just look up at the sky and wonder what the hell i did. and no, not even on days like today, when i find out that my trough level (the level of my immunoglobulins post my first treatment) is still low. i’m not skee-eerd. after all, i figure it will take a few treatments before someone jumps up and down and screams, woohoo, it’s working.

but meanwhile, back at the ranch…

1) i continue to do lice checks on girlfriend’s hair. nevermind i only usually find one or two eggs each day and no live lice. i am determined to hit a week where i find nothing, nada. and believe me, lice checks suck. i have to sit there and go through every bit of BC’s topical real estate to find anything. it’s hard, and i am noticing that my 40+ year old eyes are squealing like someone is dragging them uphill.

for those keeping score, here are things we’ve done to get rid of lice.

a) use OTC Nix/Rid product (2 treatments) that probably will ensure that BC will grow another head. [check]

b) put olive oil on head and sleep in shower cap. [check]

c) put original listerine on head, shove hair in shower cap, then let it dry. [check] [and if you’re wondering, yes, your hair smells like original listerine for days afterwards.]

d) buy tea tree shampoo and conditioner. use daily. [check] [smells somewhat like original listerine. ugh.]

e) bag every non-washable item in BC’s room for several weeks. [check]

f) wash every washable item in BC’s room in hot water and hot dryer. on a 90 degree day. [check]

so, one would think that all this effort made a deep impression on BC, as in, “gee, mama really wants these things to get the hell out of our life.”

but noooooo.

BC is in a camp called dance around the world; and yesterday, she informed me, was bollywood day. (and yes, i must tape her doing her bollywood dance moves. i nearly peed myself laughing on that one.) i’m not quite sure why, but in her infinite wisdom, BC decided to dump what appears to be a metric ton of silver glitter IN HER HAIR. this stuff is STUCK TO HER SCALP. and guess what? it makes it VERY FUCKING HARD TO DO A LICE CHECK.

so BS, if you’re reading this, let it be known that i was not supposed to tell daddy. (she meant verbally, so i think i’m covered.) but rest assured, girlfriend is washing her hair in the loathed tea tree shampoo/conditioner duo for the rest of the week.

and she has already incurred the wrath of mama(TM) .

but wait, there’s more.

2) a most adorable little dude is celebrating his second birthday, and i am honored to be baking cake for 60+ people. jools is home with me today, and we’re having a great time (now is quiet time, so i can type on my laptop and he can play Freddy Fish on the other computer). a great time other than a slight mishap.

we were mixing cake number one. jools had his big spoon and was stirring the batter as i was hooking up my portable hand mixer. we used my biggest bowl, one where the kids can stir a decent distance from anything i might be doing. so as i was reminding him, just as THE WORDS WERE LEAVING MY MOUTH, words that said DON’T EVER PUT THE SPOON IN THE MIXER WHILE THE MIXER IS GOING, jools did the unthinkable. he put the spoon in the mixer.

BVVVIT!

and then, the mighty mixer, the mixer that had survived for nearly 18 years, broke. never to go again.

once i made sure that he was absolutely fine, i barked at him for not listening to my words. and he cried, cried, cried, cried, cried.

so G-d, if you’re listening. can you get me kids who listen to me occasionally and think?

oh, and a handmixer would be nice, too.

many, many more reasons why i'm the worst mom ever

many, many more reasons why i'm the worst mom ever

Posted on by wrekehavoc

1) i let BC sing along with the gang of four. pity she continues to sing it as i love a man in a unicorn.

2) when moving away from my crazeeee homemade mix to the safer realm of BIG100, i let BC sing along. only, too bad for me. years and years of classic rock playing in the car have taught her the lyrics to feel like makin’ love. yep.  she sang THAT gem at the top of her lungs. thank G-d she doesn’t know what it means. yet.

3) i slipped some tofu into my family’s life. yep. BS hates nuts, so i found a pesto recipe that uses tofu. i clued BS in afterwards; the kids are still in the dark. everyone liked it (though i think the lemon juice in it makes it taste a little weird.)

yep. worst. mom. ever.

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