Dear Santa:

I’ve been working hard all year to make your nice list, but Life as a CEO isn’t always easy.

There’s the cooking, which I am not great at, and the cleaning, which I don’t like to do, and the ironing, which I never do. Sometimes I whine about needing an extra hour in the day, or an extra set of hands, or a clone. I yell at my kids, am quick to tell off cashiers (usually only when pms’ing) and tend to get grouchy with my husband. I’ve double booked appointments, neglected to mail birthday cards, and missed things I’ve planned to attend. I’ve skipped serving a veggie with dinner. I’ve offered my kids a second serving to fruit snacks so that I could check my email in peace and quiet. I’ve certainly chose the half-a$$ road due to exhaustion, and sometimes desperation, on more than one occasion.

I’m no Stepford wife, or Mrs. Clever, or Mr. Clean for that matter. But, my home is a happy one.

My husband loves pizza, and he doesn’t correct me when I say I cleaned the bathroom even though what I really meant was that I took a Lysol wipe to it. My children are healthy, thriving, respectful, loving children, and they never complain when I offer that extra serving of fruit snacks. My family and friends love me in spite of my often absentmindedness and hypochondriac tendencies. The groups that I volunteer endless hours for are flourishing with success. I’ve unselfishly donated my own goods and money to those in need. I am good to my neighbors, polite to strangers (you can not hold PMS against me!) and strive to take care of Mother Earth.

I don’t “need” anything per say. But, I could be the total package if you grant me the following Christmas Wish List:

(1) An IPhone—Since it’s so important that I manage all of my daily tasks as CEO, this little device would allow me to multi-task and provide me with no excuse to forget appointments or birthdays.(2) A dishwasher—If I had a dishwasher, I’d steer away from one-dish meals and explore the world of cooking.

(3) A new set of Pots and Pans—in exchange for that one dish from above.

(4) A new COACH Bag—since Miss Mac is now potty trained and I no longer need a super duper Diaper Bag, maybe one that has all sorts of interior compartments to hold my new IPhone so that I am never without

Facebook it?

(5) A Boob Job—don’t my boobs deserve to be “happy”, too.

Thanks, Santa. You’re the best!

To read other Writers Workshop posts, visit Mama Kat!

I’ve kept journals on and off throughout my life, but I’ve never held onto any of them along the way. Instead, I have a box of memories, from my teenage years mostly. I did rip out a few journal entries and put them in there, but as for the rest of the journal, I always felt it was safer in the trash!

The box has lots of letters–you know the kind we would pass in class or in the halls–and lots of pictures. I’ve saved certain movie stubs and concert tickets. I am even guilty of saving certain mixed tapes from the many boys I was head-over-heels “in love” with during that era of my life.

When I read MamaKat’s Writers Workshop prompt about our teenage diary entries, I immediately thought about this one note in particular that I DID NOT intend, or want, to keep. For some reason, my mom held onto this note. She thought it was charming and that I’d appreciate it one day. I thought–and still do on some level–that it was nauseating.

The note was from this boy named Alan. He was an odd ‘fella! I don’t normally call boys “fellas” but this kid dressed, looked, and acted like a ‘fella at the young age of 13. He was always gawking at me, always finding a reason to choose me for his team in gym class or to be his lab partner. He was very quiet, polite and studious. I don’t remember him participating in sports, or having have many friends. For some reason, I remember that he always brought the teacher exquisitely wrapped gifts for the holidays that you knew his “Momma” had her hand in. You know – that sorta boy.

Anyway, I remember walking to my desk one day and seeing a folded note on the floor with my name scribbled on it. I picked it up, not knowing what to expect, and read it. While I don’t have it in front of me, I can tell you that it went something like this:

My Dearest Chrissy:
I am a catalog freak. I love looking through them and reading them. I can’t get enough of them. But I love you more and I would give up catalogs if you would go out with me.
Yours Forever, Alan

I remember looking around to see if Alan was watching my reaction. I remember looking to make sure that no one saw the note–I didn’t want people to think that this self-proposed freak was my boyfriend. I mostly remember wanting to vomit. What the heck was a “catalog freak??” anyway! I remember running home and trying to burn the note–I guess my mom took it along the way.

And, you know what? 15+ years & one son later–I find that note “charming” in an innocent way.

Most 13 year old boys, even when I was 13, are more concerned about feeling girls up then reading magazines, catalogs none-the-less. And, boy did that ‘fella have guts??

I can only hope that Buckaroo will grow up to be a kind, polite and studious boy. And I am glad that the only thing he likes to do with catalogs is to cut them to shreds.

Swine Flu Thoughts…

Never-ending To-Do List Thoughts…

OCD Thoughts…

Right Here….what DaddyMac says as he points to a spot on his back that needs rubbing

Imagining what I want to do the next day…

Never gonna wear a two-piece again??!! thoughts…

Get me more milk Mommy…

Hot, no….cold….no, Hot…

Under the covers, no….outside the covers….no, just one leg out….

Zzzs….If I fall asleep right now, I’ll get (fill-in-as-I-watch-the-hours-go-by) hours of sleep…

But, the BIGGEST reason I can’t sleep at night is…….

Can you figure it out???

The clues are right there…..

Yup!

SNORING HUZ!!!!

Maybe the voices in my head will go away if I get me some damn ear plugs already!

Visit MaMa Kat over at Mama’s Losin’ It to read more Writers Workshop Posts!!

For today’s Writers Workshop, I chose Mama Kat’s prompt “pick a Halloween costume or moment you wish you had on tape”…..as soon as I read that prompt, I immediately thought about Halloween 2002…

One of our local radio stations had “Flashback Friday” back then, and I’d always listen to it on my way to work. I never called in to request a song, until the day I heard that anyone who called in would be entered into a drawing to win tickets to a special Halloween Bash at the radio station and the best dressed at the party would win tickets to see U2 in concert! I just had to win those tickets, so I called in and requested….“I Hate Everything About You” by Ugly Kid Joe (ah, memories of Powder Puff Football and High School come pouring back every time I think of that song!). The DJ loved my request so much that he immediately gave me tickets to come to the Bash on the spot!

I was so excited–hadn’t a clue what we’d dress as but I knew my Hubby (for some reason, I’ve decided to change his name to DaddyMac from here on out…) would come up with something stellar. We were so excited for the Bash–neither of us had ever been to anything like this before. We imagined loads of food, hundreds of people dressed in their finest, dancing, prizes and much more.

DaddyMac decided we’d dress as vikings. I bought loads of black fur and sewed us costumes. He completed his get-up with this very real viking helmet:

We pulled up to the studio to see maybe 5 cars in the parking lot and I remember thinking to myself, “are we just that excited that we are the first ones here?” We got our costumes set, and walked inside the building. There were lots of radio personnel all over the place–they were busy preparing for the Bash–and we were directed to a waiting area. Inside the waiting area were maybe 5 or 6 other people dressed in costume. All of whom were total losers. I am not trying to be mean, but seriously, they were losers. We started to wonder what we were in for.

Looking back, we should have known what we were in for when we were told we had to be at the “Bash” at 6am. I mean, who throws a Smashin’ Bash at 6am? DaddyMac called out of work that day and everything–we were totally siked, and determined, to win those U2 tickets!

The next 3 hours were the most boring ones of my life. There was a crazy psychic reader in one corner, one table of snacks in the other, and fake “made for radio” games like bobbing for apples which they seriously asked us to “make noises into the microphone then reach your hand in and pick your apple.” They had us standing on the side of the building on the highway reaching into a garbage can that didn’t even have apples in it! Oh, and as for all the dancing we’d be doing…there was one small bathroom sized room decked out with black lights where they had us “dance” in. At one point, they asked us to all line up and the “winners” of the U2 tickets would be announced. Clearly, it was in the bag. We were going to see U2.

Clearly I was wrong.

What. A. Total. Waste. Of. Time.

We packed our $hit up and ran for the door. Before we made it there, we were greeted by the radio host who apologized for the morning and gave us 2 tickets for the concert because we were “totally cool.”

Hey–at least we got the tickets! And that may be the one time someone ever called me cool.

Job Description {of the day}:  Activities Coordinator

At the risk of sounding like a crappy mom, I have a confession to make: I can’t stand taking my kids to the playground. It’s not something I wake up and say, “oh, it’s a beautiful day, what a great day for the park.” Here’s why:

* Moms are just spectators at the playground & we can’t even enjoy it. The moment you relax, close your eyes to take in a deep breath of fresh air and let the sun dance on your face, you open your eyes and realize you can’t “find” one of your kids and your heart skips a few beats. So, you spend the rest of your time hawking your children’s whereabouts trying to keep them both in your view while they run in opposite directions.

* Someone has always got to pee, or poop, or both, once if not twice during your visit. If your playground has a potty, it likely looks like a walking version of the swine flu. If not, then you’ll be forced to work your diaper changing magic on the seat of your car. Always fun.

* Someone always gets hurt. Be it a small scrape on the knee from running around like a mad man, or a whack in the head from walking in front of the swings. Tears are always shed.

* Other moms are constantly judging your parenting skills waiting for you to mess up in some way, shape or form so that they can claim the coveted “Best/Coolest Mom at the Playground” award.

* There is the inevitable “I wanna go home” whine-fest that your toddler will make at some point. You will then have to convince them to stay by getting all goofy and riding the pony spring rider in order to ward off the meltdown your 5 year old will definitely have if you unexpectedly announce that it’s time to go.

* Then, of course, it is time to go. And, even though you just spent an hour watching their every move, pushing them on the swings, clapping at them going down the slide a hundred times, giving them a snack, etc. they still have meltdowns and your “fun” day at the park quickly ends with a “get-in-this-car-right-now-or-else” moment.

Despite how I really feel, the pictures below are why I give in and take my kids to the park often – Motherhood is really all about them anyway!

This post is being submitted for MamaKat’s Writers Workshop and for Wordful Wednesday over at 7 Clown Circus!

Today’s “Writers Workshop” over at Mama’s Losin It is based on the upcoming Uma Thurman film called “Motherhood.” Uma Thurman plays a mom named Eliza who gets so caught up in the demands of motherhood that she fears she’s lost herself. She turns to blogging and realizes what is truly valuable in her life. For someone like me, a “mom blogger,” I know this movie is going to hit so close to home. The reason I turned to blogging was to have my own place out in this cyberworld; to vent, to relax, to share stories, and to something say or “do” things that I might be more reserved about in my day to day life.

Mama Kat’s prompts for our writing assignments this week were all about Mothers. I chose prompt #1, the interview, but I took a different spin on it. I chose to interview my best critic, my Buckaroo. We are all our own worst critics–some days, I question every move I make–should I have put him in time out? could I have handled that discipline better? are they watching too much TV? gosh, chicken nuggets for dinner again?

Here is my interview with Buckaroo:

Q: What does a Mom do?
A: Some moms go to work, some moms do sewing, some moms go shopping all day, and some moms stay home

Q: What is my job?
A: That’s easy! You are my mommy. You stay home with your kids and take care of us.

Q: How long have I been a mommy?
A: About 100 years.

Q: How old am I?
A: 20-teen

Q: What does your mommy do all day?
A: When I go to school, you take Miss Mac shopping for our food and gas for our car. You play with us a lot, too. And you go on the computer.

Q: What do I do the best?
A: You are good at giving me drinks and feeding me.

Q: What do I do the worst?
A: You never buy me those happy meals! (people–I’m not being mean, the kids has food allergies!!!)

Q: It make you happy when I…
A: It makes me happy when you buy me stuff when I am at school and surprise me when I get home, and when you buy me happy meals (holy pent up anger here!)

Q: It makes you sad when I…
A: Nothing you do makes me sad. (Awe…..I LOVE him!)

Q: Even when I have to put you in time out? What will you do when your kids don’t listen?
A: I’ll just say, “Kid, don’t do that!” and I’d never put him in time out because he’ll be my best kid and that’s just not nice.

Q: What do you wish I’d do more with you?
A: I wish you’d let me bake cookies only when Miss Mac is sleeping so that I can eat them all and not her.

Q: What do you wish I wouldn’t do?
A: There is nothing that I really wish you wouldn’t do.

Q: Can you think of 5 words that describe your mommy?
A: Blue shirt, fun, cool, pretty, beautiful (I seriously don’t know the last time someone called me “beautiful”!)

Q: What is the best thing about your mommy?
A: The best thing about you is that you rub my back before I go to bed.

The interview ended with the following:

Mommy?
Yes, Buckaroo.
Can you please rub my back?
Sure, honey!