Shanghai'd & Scooby Snacks

Another two weeks fly by and I realize I have not even looked at my blog, much less posted anything.  To be honest, I have been in survival mode since Husband was "Shanghai'd" for a week...literally.  His company sent him to Shanghai, China to do whatever it is he does for a living.  After eight and a half years of marriage, I am still not entirely sure.  When I tell him this, he laughs and tries to explain again.  My eyes glaze over when he starts mentioning words like "hydraulic" and "Six Sigma".  I guess I won't pursue an answer too adamantly and just enjoy the regular paychecks. 

While he was gone, I had a hectic week as a single parent.  Eli took that week to have the mother of all meltdowns, at 10:30 at night no less, when I was so tired I couldn't see straight.  My basement Boy Wonder Wyatt was skiing somewhere and couldn't run interference for me.  So I did what any good parent would do...I banished her, and her equally wailing sister Katybird, to separate rooms and told them that if they didn't stop crying by the time I counted to 10, I was going to shut their door ALL THE WAY (that's akin to waterboarding in their book) and not open them again until morning (they haven't figured out the their doors lock from their side of the door so my threat does not really carry much weight). 

By morning, we had called a truce and by week's end, I was ready to pin a medal on the chest of every single mother I see.  I don't know how they do it without a tag team partner. 

We picked Husband up at the airport on Saturday where he proceeded to tell me, among his other stories, that he tried "dog" that week.  Yes, I guess in China, dog is an acceptable form of meat for human consumption.  Husband is not a huge fan of Chinese food to begin with and well, being in China, it means the real deal...not our sweetened, fried, MSG-laden version.  His host ordered dog and it was served cold.  I asked him if it tasted like chicken.  He made a face and let me know that it has a very distinct flavor, all its own.  One bite was enough to last a lifetime for him. 

Needless to say, he's glad to be back in the US of A despite being completely mixed up on his sleep schedule and being down for the count all day today with flu-like symptoms.  SIDENOTE:  there is nothing quite so pathetic as seeing a 6'5" strapping man wobbling around sicker than a...

[dare I say it?]

DOG!

RUT ROH RAGGY! 

I just HAD to go there, didn't I?

The Hounds of Cougarville Strike Again!

In a late breaking news development, a local Momzilla was alerted by concerned next door neighbor Melissa K that two black hounds were spotted gallivanting around the small suburban city of Cougarville (name changed to protect Momzilla location) mid-morning last Thursday.  The hounds appeared to have sly grins on their slobbery faces akin to Sylvester the Cat when he captures Tweety in his mouth.  Neighbor Melissa's dad also owns two black hounds but further investigation determined his hounds were safely at home. 

That key piece of evidence led local police, er, Momzilla, to realize that the two hounds in question were none other than Atticus (AKA Lumpy) - a notorious chew and slobber hound known to eat cell phones belonging to landscapers and to leap over two sets of minivan seats to secure an entire package of string cheese from Boy Wonder Wyatt's parents Denis and Jackie.  [NOTE: the string cheese was later recovered by Momzilla after much slipping and sliding on a wet lawn and prying impaled string cheese - still in package - loose from a set of slobbery canines...and I mean the teeth, not just the dog] and Sasha (AKA Spazzoid) - aider and abetter to the notorious chew and slobber hound with a deep affinity for flip flops, superballs, paintbrushes and bungee cords. 

Momzilla raced back to her little cabin in the big woods to find the two hounds had returned from the scene of their misdeeds and were proudly standing over the now-deceased body of a black cat.  Witnesses report the hounds were protectively guarding the cold, stiff body of the cat who appeared to be missing a vital piece of its hind parts.  Also in their possession was a deer head and one hoof. 

Boy Wonder Wyatt was called up from his basement abode to dispose of the victims.  Cheers and sounds of disgust could be heard from the two spastic Squirrels who reside with the Momzilla. 

Further investigation revealed that the batteries supplying power to the PetSafe Stubborn Dog Fence collars had ceased to be of use and were promptly replaced by Husband.  The two hounds have been remanded to custody and the smell of burnt dog hair indicates that the zapper collars are now in working order.  The hounds responded by howling, racing back to the porch, and respecting the invisible fence surrounding their two acre prison.  The hounds will be eligible for parole...well, never. 

YOU, TOO, can prevent crimes like this from happening in the future.  If you spot two black hounds heading for the Maine Ave Market (name changed to conceal Momzilla's location) or dragging dead cats along in their jaws, please call 1-800-MOMZILLA immediately.  Or just offer them some string cheese.  Or your flip flops.

For more merry misadventures of the Hounds of Cougarville, read here and here! 

The Midnight Non-News

I know I am long overdue to post.  What started out as a catharsis for my own neurotic musings has turned into the pressure to post at least once a week.  I think I'll call this blogger's block.  Maybe I should have had a focus like cooking my way through Julia Child's cookbook or posting my school lunch experience daily.  Instead, you get the random midnight thoughts of a Midwestern Momzilla. 

So here goes...

In sports news, Eli is in volleyball now and getting a sound spanking weekly from her cousin Courtney's rival team (coached by her varsity volleyball head coach mother Tracy who can still put a dent in a gym floor with her serves).  Courtney can serve overhand...in the 4th grade...with enough power to break a nose...so it's interesting to see most of Eli's team duck when Courtney serves. 

In other sports news, in a moment of late night New Year's Eve weakness, I agreed to run a 10k with our good friends the "Lindyhops" (real name concealed so my whereabouts in the Momzilla Protection Program remain secretive).  Actually, it was probably about in the 35th round of rousing Phase 10 game ('cause that's how us cool people roll on New Year's Eve) when I realized that I was never going to get two sets of four that I said "Run again?  Why not!".  I looked on the race website and found that EVERYONE who completes the race gets a medal. 

Well, that was enough for me.  The only medal I currently possess was the product of my 8th grade Math Counts "Mathletes" team.  I may not win any athletic competitions but I will square root your butt right off if you mess with me.  That's what me and my white and nerdy posse do. 

In educational news, Eli's grades have been rather schizophrenic.  After a lengthy school meeting with the teacher, the principal, the psychologist and the state's community resource advocate, we determined that Eli would benefit from counseling, weekly meetings with her teacher to review her work and she may need an occupational therapy evaluation.  No testing accommodations...and she is still sitting in the back row.  By the time anything of importance is completed, so will the third grade and she'll be home for the summer.  And I'll probably face this battle again in two years when Katybird makes it to third grade. 

In travel news, Husband leaves for China in one week.  I offered to sneak along in his suitcase but he rolled his eyes at me and told me his company may not allow me to go.  I told him I could randomly show up in China...they can't disapprove a SHEER COINCIDENCE, can they?  He says wait until he gets to go to Australia...if he ever does.  Meanwhile, my 223,000 frequent flyer miles with Delta are just itching to be used....

And in adoption news...well, not much.  Our home study is being evaluated by a TX caseworker for a brother/sister combination (ages 4&5) who, if I am reading between the lines, are ADHD and love/hate each other.  Sound familiar?  Anyway, caseworkers are not fond of interstate adoptions (because it's a ton of paperwork and much hassle) which puts us behind in state home studies in the stack but nothing was moving in our home state so I've taken to trolling the web.  Feels a bit like online shopping for children.  We'll see what happens...

That's the news from the little cabin in the big woods this week....where the men are good-looking, the women are frazzled, and the children are all above average (in spastic-ness).

Lauren and the Bad Romance

This has nothing to do with Momzilla-ness but had to share my niece Lauren's college video of Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance", in which she plays a part.  Simply BRILLIANT!



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Xozp8ROqPI

The Real (Frazzled) Housewife of W County

I have been seeing previews all over Bravo for shows about "Real Housewives" from different areas of the country.  I am fairly certain the only thing real in these housewives whole bodies are their internal organs.  Seriously, since when do fake-baked, liposuctioned, botoxed, hair extensioned, breast augmented females who do nothing but back stab, cheat and drink all day qualify as "Real Housewives"?

I'll give Bravo a real show...it's called the Real (Frazzled) Housewife of W County!

The episodes may or may not contain footage of me in a large white bathrobe with hair that hasn't been shampooed in 48 hours tramping down the stairs in the wee hours of the morning to rouse two sleeping and very crabby/reluctant Squirrels. 

Cut to the Squirrels doing everything BUT eating their breakfast and getting ready for school with me bellowing idle threats like "IF YOU DON'T HURRY, I'LL MAKE YOU WALK TO THE BUS" knowing full well that I won't because then they will MISS the bus and I will have to slink down in the driver's seat as I, still white bathrobed-swathed, drop the girls off at school. 

Then a phone call comes that Kate is not feeling well at school and can I pick her up.  She promptly harfs up her Eggo waffles in the car on the way home. 

Eli, meanwhile, comes home with yet another flunked assignment, thanks to her many distractions and lack of ability to actual read any directions with an assignment, and I begin to wonder if my fight to advocate for her is doing any good whatsoever. 

By 2:30 in the afternoon, all ADHD medication has worn off and the girls have decided that they are STARVING and want me to make s'mores (say what?) and drink pop - to which I say NO to both, which leads to much whining about how they NEVER get pop and can't WAIT until they are grown up because then they will drink pop every day all day long. 

The day is not complete without at least one of the two threatening to run away because life is unfair and I must love one kid more than the other.  Meanwhile, I realize I am now going on 72 hours without showering and Husband calls to say he has a two hour conference call when he gets home so he will need the kids to be quiet while he secludes himself to the bedroom to try to shut out any noise. 

I open the refrigerator and stare inside hoping someone has done the grocery shopping for me only to realize I have five stalks of celery, some shriveled grapes, a 1/2 gallon of week old milk, and something I can't quite identify in a Tupperware.  Probably some experimental recipe that Husband wasn't very fond of so he relegates it to the back of the fridge and opts to buy lunch at his work cafeteria. 

Much squirrel wrangling and wailing over homework later (by both the Squirrels...and later me joining in in sheer frustration), I realize a few things:

1) Nobody seems to hear a word I say.
2) I used to like cooking until I had to do it every day, several times a day, in mass quantities.
3) Having an MBA has absolutely NO advantages when it comes to parenting.
4) Working from home sounds much more fun and easy than it is. 

and finally

5) I am THE REAL HOUSEWIFE material...but my life hits too close to home for most of you so tuning in would only lead to a greater need for Prozac in your life.  So escape to your glamorous plastic Botoxed fake baked housewives on television...but don't you DARE call them "real". 

I Pledge My Head

Lately, Eli has been pestering me to join 4-H.  Not so much for what it teaches but because her BFF Olivia is in 4-H and heaven forbid Eli miss out on ANYTHING her friends are doing.  Add to that, the 4-H leaders are requesting the honor of my presence as a co-leader. 

I have a single-minded response to both of these:  OVER MY DEAD AND BLEEDING BODY!

You see, I am a 4-H survivor, er, alum.  Yes, once upon a time, I "pledged my head to clearer thinking, my heart to greater loyalty, my hands to larger service and my health to better living for my club, my community, my country, and my world".  Twenty years later, I am a half-crazed Momzilla so you can see how far pledging my head got me in life. 

I suspect my mother enrolled me in the torture of 4-H because she wanted to see me, as well as her other six daughters, domesticated into the Stepford version of Proverbs 31. 

Instead, her eight children turned out like this:

In our defense, we came from a church that did a lot of intermarrying so the gene pool may have had some cross-contamination. 

But I digress...

Not that I didn't make a valiant effort in the domestic arts.  By the time I came along (the 7th kid in), Mom had handed over sewing instruction to my oldest sister Beth.  I was sent packing for two weeks up to the mosquito-infested state of Minnesota to gain instruction on how to operate the infernal sewing machine and serger. 

This is me putting in the stitches (only sewing over my thumb a few times) under the glamorous country blue and dusty rose wall decorations that swathed my sister's house in the mid-80s. 

This is me taking OUT the stitches (yet again).  My sister would usually give up and tell me to go watch her kids while she efficiently whisked this number through her machine. 

And to make matters more humiliating, Mom also entered me in the "clothing review" in which you had to model the outfit you made.  And write fetching commentary to be read while you pranced in front of the sparse crowds of other moms who made their kids take 4-H projects to the fair.

I am sure that I wrote something along the lines in "Stepping out this fall in a lovely knee-length polka dot skirt is Jane." when I should have written "Behind those ginormous tortoise-shell-framed glasses is Jane who hasn't realized that Keds should never be the shoe of choice to accessorize any outfit, no matter how homemade." 

Of course, my sister Mary took to sewing like a duck to water and had to show off her mad skills by making a prom dress:

She also had figured out the Big Bang theory and had her ears pierced.  Life was so unfair back then. 

Alas, despite all the baking, sewing, and craft-making elementary years, I am still domestically inept and have emotional scars from my time in 4-H.  I think my Squirrels have enough reason to need therapy so we'll skip 4-H for them.  Plus, ADHD and a sewing machine...now THERE'S a recipe for disaster. 

Aboriginal Glow & Mascara Eye Jabs

Move aside, ole Mary Kay, because the Squirrels have discovered a deep affinity for makeup!

It may have started with our K family summer vacation where Rachel and Kate tortured poor Erin with subtle colors like hot pink and purple:

Or perhaps it was Lena's rampant makeover binge at Christmas this year, after which she would cross her arms, step back thoughtfully, and say "My work here is done!":

But whatever (or whoever) the culprit, the Squirrels are vastly in love with makeup experimentation.  Armed with new Caboodles (ah...fond memories of the '80s), no one is safe:

So what did the Squirrels want to spend their Walmart gift cards from Dale & Candy K on but MAKEUP!  And not just any makeup but a multi-layered, retina-burning display of colored powders, blushes, eye shadows, and lip glosses:

I talked Kate out of the purple glitter mascara but she was definitely determined that WHATEVER makeup kit she bought at her favorite store (Claire's...motto:  lots of overpriced crappola that is guaranteed to break upon usage), it HAD to include mascara.  She is a bit of a disaster trying to apply the stuff.  It winds up under her eyes, on her eyelids, and once on her chin (not sure what happened there) not to mention the more-often-than-not eye jab that leaves her whimpering.  BEAUTY IS PAINFUL! 

Eli, on the other hand, has a unique method of applying powder (pat, pat...rrruuuuubbbb all around with her hand).  And the sad news is that most generic makeup kits are made for the vanilla crowd, not my beautiful chocolate Squirrels, so Eli ends up having a faint Aboriginal glow to her after multiple applications.  Who am I to judge?  I tried to accomplish a "smoky eye" on myself and wound up looking like I just stepped out of the boxing ring after three rounds.

Why do I allow such chaos?  See for yourself:

That's right...at least a 30-second interval of absolute silence in my day and it all comes off with a good washing.  PRICELESS...even if they bawl when I won't let them go out of the house looking like hookers who fell face-first into a Crayola vat.  Mother of the Year, here I come!  Where is my crown and sash?