Momo Fali's

Random Realizations: Holiday Edition

2009-12-28T12:32:00.007-05:00

1. You know you are a true chocoholic when you realize there isn't a chocolate nut cluster in the world that stands a chance against you.

2. Or, a peanut butter blossom.

3. If your son has never had an instance where he has scratched his crotch in public, you can be sure he will do it for the first time in the middle of his school Christmas play.

4. When he's standing directly in front of the principal.

5. And, you can be sure he'll do it for a second time when he's performing during the children's Christmas Eve Mass.

6. While standing in front of an entire congregation.

7. And your priest.

8. You may underestimate how bad of a charades player your sister says she is, until she acts out West Side Story by simply belting out, "Maria..."

9. If your daughter gets a camera for Christmas, it's possible that she will think she is the next Annie Lebovitz and you will have to pose for pictures for days on end.

10. And, during those days on end when you've been living off of beer, wine, egg nog, rum, Bailey's and apple pie, you probably won't look very pretty in those photographs.

11. When you are 38 years old and your parents still spoil you, you'll feel like a kid again.

12. If you are participating in a White Elephant gift exchange, you won't feel so bad about contributing something tacky when you receive a clock from 1982. With dust on it.

13. If you have to make three different trips to the carry out in the middle of your family gathering, you will realize that you are related to a forgetful bunch.

14. Either that, or they drink a lot.

Speaking of Cut

2009-12-26T12:16:00.003-05:00

For as long as I can remember, my husband, our two kids and I have gathered around our dining room table for a traditional dinner on Christmas Eve. First, we attend church, then come home and I put a ham in the oven.

The only problem with this arrangement, is that the children's Mass, in which my kids often participate, is at 6:00 PM...which means we don't get home until after 7:00. I don't like to leave the oven on when we're not home, so Christmas Eve dinner is always a very late one.

This year I tried something new. I pulled out my gigantic, electric roaster and threw the ham inside before we left for church. That way we came home to a fully cooked ham.

Actually, it was a little too fully cooked.

And as we sat around the table aglow with candlelight and set with my mother's Christmas china, my daughter didn't let it go unnoticed when she said, "You know, I like dry meat. It's easier to cut."

Thinking Positive

2009-12-23T09:31:00.006-05:00

Not too long ago, I almost saw a pedestrian get killed. Cross-traffic was stopped at a light, or so this woman thought, and she stepped off the curb and into the crosswalk. A car ran the red light and missed her by inches.

The scene often runs through my mind in slow motion. I picture her hair getting blown by the passing car that almost ran her down. Yet, in my memory, her hair isn't tossed by a whoosh of air. It is a gentle breeze because the picture runs so slow.

I feel much the same way about the time my son stopped breathing after one of his surgeries. I remember the frenzy and the near-constant push of medication. I remember my son screaming and then suddenly hearing nothing but the nurse yelling at him. But, all of that craziness also drags on in my mind. It's as if remembering it at the pace at which it happened is too much for me to endure.

When I go back to the moment when my aunt told me that my cousin had died, I see her mouth move sluggishly as she said, "He's gone". When I recall standing next to my niece in the ICU when she took her last breaths, the blips on her monitor barely move in my mind.

I think painful memories work that way. They travel through us at a rate so as not to shock our hearts into stopping.

But, I want the good memories to slow down. I need pictures of happiness and light to linger in my head. Those images are far too fleeting.

My New Year's resolution is to stop walking around in a perpetual state of anxiety and make my brain happy. To nurse my soul and to stop letting bad thoughts plod along slowly. I want to make the good feelings last longer than the rotten ones.

All of the negative, slow motion moments in my life are wearing me down and it's high time I sent them packing.

Then, I'm going to invite bliss and ask it to kick up its heels and stay a while.

Digits

2009-12-21T11:31:00.003-05:00

Next week, my daughter will mark her 11th birthday. We were discussing this momentous occasion when she suddenly said, "I remember being so scared about turning 10 last year!"

I replied, "Really? Why?"

"Because I knew I'd be in double digits for the rest of my life!"

Nothing Says Christmas Like a Speculum

2009-12-16T21:07:00.004-05:00

My Husband Said I Looked Like a Dog

2009-12-14T08:04:00.004-05:00

So, you know how you have a lot to do when there's less than two weeks before Christmas? And then your kid gets a cold so bad that he throws up when he coughs because he's so full of mucus? And then your dog gets a massive bladder infection and ear infection? Oh, and you have to fly to a black-tie, corporate party in Atlanta because your husband's company just KNOWS you hate to fly? Yeah, me too.

I don't know about you, but I was able to hold it together with all that stress...especially because I got some Xanax to help me get through the flight. The flight which had me so crippled with fear that I could barely function.

On the way to Atlanta on Saturday, the medicine helped a lot, until we hit turbulence. When my husband saw me holding on tightly to my tray table, he ordered me a vodka and cranberry. That drink was, without a doubt, the best drink I have ever had...until he ordered me a second one. One-and-a-half Xanax and two drinks. What plane?

When we arrived, we heard from the dog sitter that the dog was doing okay, my mom told me that my son was hanging in there, and I had lived through the flight. Things were going great!

Until after the party when my right wrist started itching. I silently thanked my mother for passing me the genes for spider veins and sensitive skin and I chalked it up to a cheap bracelet I had been wearing.

But, by yesterday morning I knew it wasn't just sensitive skin. I had hives. If you have never had the pleasure of having hives, let me describe it for you. It's like being covered with mosquito bites...everywhere. A thousand of them. On your scalp, your eyes, inside your ears, your shoulders, your elbows, your forearms, your hands, your stomach, your crotch, your thighs, your knees, your shins, your ankles and, my personal favorite, the soles of your feet. I was scratching so much that my husband said I looked like a dog...with fleas...and bedbugs.

The concierge brought me some Benadryl, but by the time we got to the airport yesterday I was feeling miserable. While everyone else was printing their boarding passes, I was all, "Hey Delta dude, is there a medical clinic up in here?"

There was. It was upstairs next to the USO, where there were military personnel all over the place. Then I was all, "Hey folks, thanks for risking your lives and protecting my family, but can you get out of my way because I have HIVES!" They were happy to oblige, likely because they thought I was crazy as I kept taking off my shoes to scratch the bottom of my feet. Also, I may have slightly resembled a leper.

The doctor immediately gave me a shot of steroids, a pack of Prednisone and then asked me if I realized that my blood pressure was 160/104. Really? Maybe that's because I'm agitated and want to tear my own skin open and I would rather take off all my clothes and wriggle around on a bed of nails or rub up on the scratchy side of a velcro rug than be here talking to you.

The doctor assumed that the hives were from the Xanax, so I had to white-knuckle it all the way home. And when we flew through clouds for a good five minutes and I couldn't see anything out the window and we were flying through "rough air", I'm sure that I no longer looked like a dog.

Because this chick? Was sweating like a pig.

This Barbie is No Doll

2009-12-11T07:00:00.001-05:00

I'm not sure why, but lately I have been reminiscing a lot. Maybe it's my age. Maybe it's the holidays. Or, maybe it's because I'm getting on a plane tomorrow and am fairly certain of my impending death.

No matter the reason, I have mostly been thinking about my old friend, Barbie. Barbie, Mel and I were inseparable. Here is a picture of the three of us as kids...before things turned ugly.

I think we were such good friends because we could all relate to each other. We were such misfits! I had not yet grown a neck, Barbie could never stay out of her mom's makeup bag and loved to wear "Nair shorts", and Mel...well, we could rarely get her out of the trees thanks to her freakishly long arms.

Eventually, I grew a neck and when Mel hit puberty, the rest of her body caught up with her ever-growing arms. We changed. Barbie didn't. Some people just never grow up.

The Nair shorts became shorter and shorter, and sometimes she didn't wear shorts at all. Instead of just wearing red lipstick, she started wearing blue eyeshadow too. And, in high school, when she had her first sip of warm beer, we lost her for good.

Barbie turned to Coors Light more often than not, though she did end up getting married. But, she had so many kids that she ended up losing her mind and once gave away all of her family's food to a strange woman in Ohio.

I heard through the grapevine that during the last couple of years she has completely flipped out and tells everyone that she is, in fact, a weasel. The whole story is just so sad.

Today is Barbie's birthday. Wherever you are, Barbie, and whether or not you really are crazy, and whether or not you think you're a human or a carnivorous mammal that looks like a rodent...I miss you. I am wishing you a happy birthday.

Oh, and by the way, Barb, you have been blunked.

How to Get What You What

2009-12-10T07:07:00.002-05:00

The other night, around sunset, my son asked if he could turn on the Christmas tree lights. Before I had a chance to answer, my daughter turned to him and said, "Can I turn on the lights tonight? You always do it."

My son replied, "Sure." Then his face turned red, his eyes filled with tears and he said, "As long as you smile really big like I do when I turn them on."

Keep Your Eyes on Your List, Santa

2009-12-07T06:41:00.001-05:00

Here are some pictures of the Christmas decorations in our living room.

Here is the tree...

Here is the mantle.

As it turns out, I've had a couple of elves helping me add decorations.

Let's take a closer look, shall we? Here is what my son put on the tree...

And because the puppy was chewing on a Barbie, my daughter took it
out of the dog's mouth and put it up on the mantle.

It looks like Santa is on the naughty list this year.

Draw Your Own Conclusion

2009-12-04T15:36:00.005-05:00

Last week, during a family game of Pictionary, my son drew this...

He claims he was trying to draw a man with big ears. But, it looks to me like he drew something else entirely. I mean, we all see it...right? It's pretty clear to me that this is a unicorn.

Things That Drove Me Crazy Yesterday

2009-12-02T07:09:00.000-05:00

1. Art Garfunkel.

2. Seeing dog hair on my floor.

3. My son's aim in the bathroom.

4. The fact that the laundry never stops.

5. Holiday shopping on December 1st and seeing the store has been ransacked and stock is depleted.

6. Heartburn.

7. Dry hands.

8. Bills.

9. Cold weather.

10. Thinking it was Wednesday and it was only Tuesday.

11. Realizing that even though I'm halfway through, this is going to be a very long week.

Gravy

2009-11-29T21:40:00.007-05:00

Sometimes, in the middle of doing something completely mundane, I will think to myself that there are so many things that I have not yet taught my children. Most recently, while preparing Thanksgiving dinner, I thought about how my daughter should know that you only use Wondra flour to make gravy. No lumps, baby.

These are the things I forget to mention during the hustle and bustle of everyday life. They may not be as important as reading and writing, but you know...people will judge you on your gravy. Trust me.

It's other things too. Little things. Like the fact that vinegar is the one and only thing you should use to clean glass, or that at least once in your life you should watch a sunrise.

My daughter should know that you can put toothpaste on your zits before you go to bed and you'll wake up with clearer skin. I need to tell her that she should always wear cotton underwear and never a thong, which I have also heard referred to as a bacterial superhighway. Go ahead, use your imagination.

My son needs to be taught to always let women through a door first and be seated first, and that the gender and age of the other passengers plays a part in when he should exit an elevator.

They need to know that hard work builds character, that nothing is free and that there are a whole lot of people in the world who don't believe either of those things. Oh, and if you put feminine hygiene powder in your shoes, it will take the feet smell away and if you wait until your spouse goes to bed, he or she will never know that you put Vagisil in their boots.

I want them to understand that there are certain things on which you don't skimp, such as toilet paper, paper towels and car tires. Their first tool should be a hammer, followed closely by an electric screwdriver, their first car should be a very large piece of junk and their first kiss should be with someone who really likes them and respects them.

They need to know that nothing will hurt as much as their first broken heart, that All in the Family is a great TV show and that they must always floss their teeth.

More than anything, I want them to know that it's okay to take risks, but they should never, ever be reckless.

Especially with gravy.

Thanks

2009-11-25T09:55:00.004-05:00

I had planned on writing a lovely, little Thanksgiving post today. Something to say that, despite the constant drama in my life, I am very thankful for a wonderful family, a good husband, (mostly) happy kids, (fairly) good health and for you. For the readers who support me and leave me witty and insightful comments when I need them most.

But, just now, I went to make my crust for the pumpkin pie and after I added all the ingredients to my food processor the motor blew up.

So instead of writing that lovely, little post...I'm going straight for the wine bottle.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Here's hoping your appliances don't bust.

Make Me Smile, 2009

2009-11-22T17:50:00.027-05:00

Things have been a little glum around here lately. Flu, pneumonia, blog-friends having massive strokes and perfectly wonderful children dying will do that to you.

But, that doesn't mean I walk around with my head hanging low all the time. No! There are still some things that make me smile when life isn't throwing wrenches in my direction.

Last year I wrote a post of my favorite things for my female readers to get a glimpse at what makes me happy. And, I know for a fact that one male reader used the list for gift ideas for his wife. Hi sweetie! Thanks for the Dyson!

Given the state of the blogosphere (Look everyone, it's the Federal Trade Commission!), I feel the need to say that no one is paying me for these product endorsements. I really like this stuff, and if something is listed it was paid for with my own hard-earned, lunch lady paycheck. Just sayin'.

1. So, speaking of that Dyson. Best. Gift. Ever. The two dogs we have are great pets, but their fur is the bane of my existence. I sweep the floors with this vacuum cleaner every other day and the canister fills up TWICE. It's disgusting. And, totally awesome.

2. The Wii Fit Plus has given our family hours of entertainment and, instead of playing standard video games, my kids are working out. So am I. I dare you to play the flying chicken game and tell me your shoulders didn't burn. Seriously. I dare you.

3. My Yes to Carrots lip tint in Chocolate Kiss. I got a free sample of this at the BlogHer conference I attended in July and have been addicted to it ever since. My lips are dry all year round and I apply Vaseline at bedtime and this during the day. It moisturizes wonderfully, looks good and tastes yummy. Bonus! Next, I want to try their body butter. Though it's possible I may slather it on my toast.

4. I used to make fun of my Aunt Shirley, because when she found an item of clothing she liked, she would buy it in every color. Which is exactly what I have done with Old Navy's Perfect Crew-Neck tee. You can wear it with lounge pants, you can wear it with jeans, or you can throw a belt around it and wear it with a skirt. Also, they're as soft as peach fuzz and you can't beat the price. Aunt Shirley is making me eat my words. Momo throws fist in the air and yells, "Dang you, Aunt Shirley!"

5. This classic Chuck Taylor shoe, by Converse. I don't own a pair. Yet. I totally dig that they're back in style though. They remind me of old photographs of my dad playing basketball. Dude could crossover dribble like nobodies business.

6. When I was at the BlogHer conference, I lost my little point-and-click camera (but, I did get that free lip tint...so it was totally worth it). I came home, decided it was time to be a grown up and purchased a Nikon D-40. It takes beautiful pictures. Though it does have so many bells and whistles that I plan to take a class on how to really use it. But, it is mostly idiot-proof, which makes it the right camera for me.

7. Lands End jeans. I'm 5'10". You can choose your inseam length. Enough said.

8. As for stocking stuffers, the OPI nail color I chose last year is so...well, last year. My new favorite? This lovely shade named, Significant Other. Mostly, I like it because my mom says nail polish should only be red or pink and deep inside I'm still 12 and want to get under her skin. Also, because I can introduce my husband to people, then hold out my hands and say, "And, this is my significant other." Then people think I'm crazy and I can avoid all that small talk stuff.

9. Have you ever taken a balloon and rubbed it on your head a few times, only to have your hair go all crazy-static on you? Yeah, that's my hair from October to May. Pantene Breakage Defense shampoo and conditioner help. A lot. When the weather gets really dry, I keep the conditioner on during my entire shower. My hair combs out easily and feels soft and silky. If I may say so myself.
10. I have said before that I hate winter, but there are a few delightful things about the season. Crackling fires, holiday lights and these socks from Bath and Body Works. They're not called the Sweetest, Softest Socks Ever for no reason. Plus, they have those little non-skid things on the bottom for the nights when you've put too much rum in your egg nog or mornings when you've put too much Bailey's in your coffee. Or, if you're like me and you're just a complete klutz.

Lucky

2009-11-18T07:05:00.008-05:00

I couldn't sleep last night.

This is nothing new, but the circumstances behind my insomnia were. I was thinking about cheeseburgers.

I was thinking about cheeseburgers, because that's what we're having for lunch today and my boss won't be there which leaves me in charge of making sure 200 kids get fed. On time.

So this pressing matter kept me awake, but after a while my mind began to wander.

It wandered to a fellow blogger, Anissa, who had a stroke yesterday and is in ICU. Anissa started blogging after her daughter was diagnosed with Leukemia.

Which led me to think about the little girl I know who is dying of a brain tumor.

And that sent my thoughts to some of the underprivileged kids we met last night at an event at the Boys and Girls Club of Columbus.

Thinking of underprivileged people, led me to think about the soup kitchen my daughter visited with her Girl Scout troop yesterday. The soup kitchen where they serve lunch to 1500 people a day.

Which brought me back to cheeseburgers.

And I realized that lunch is really nothing to worry about.

Random Realizations: Moving Edition

2009-11-16T07:30:00.000-05:00

1. If your 75 year old mother is preparing to move and keeps telling you how hard it is because she "has so much stuff", you won't believe her until you see it for yourself.

2. Because apparently you can't have too many vases.

3. Or soap dishes.

4. Or canister sets.

5. And, clearly, everyone needs a set of everyday dishes and three separate sets of fine china.

6. Your sister, who lives with your mother part-time, and who was home ALL summer, may suddenly disappear to northern Ohio for "grad school" and "trade shows" and won't come home from the time your mother decides to move, until one week after the move is completed.

7. Which leaves you to pack her stuff up.

8. And, when I say "pack" I mean put her things into hodge-podge boxes, cart them across town, lug them into the new house and up a flight of steps, then throw them in a corner.

9. Your sister is lucky you love her.

10. Because she's a pack-rat.

11. You may be really excited to have this Friday off work, only to realize your mom really wants you to paint her new living room and dining room.

12. Your mom is lucky you love her too.

13. And when your mom lives just two minutes away instead of 25 minutes away, all of this will be worth it.

Not So Yummy in the Tummy

2009-11-11T07:09:00.001-05:00

When my daughter was two years old, I was making the bed one day when she came out of our bathroom chugging a glass of water.

I said, "Boy, you sure are thirsty!" Then I realized that I hadn't heard any water running. I walked over to find a liquid trail from the doorway to where she had dunked her cup into the toilet. But, at least it was clean water. You know, with that bleach tablet in the tank and all.

Other than that, and my son once taking a sip of dishwasher rinse aid, I haven't had to call poison control. However, if there was an emergency service to ask whether the dogs were going to die because of something they ate, I would have it on speed-dial.

Our 11 year old Labrador has been the worst culprit. There was the time she ate an enormous, solid, chocolate bunny, the time a chicken bone slipped out of my fingers and she caught it in mid-air and swallowed it whole, and my personal favorite...when she ate a breast pad when I was pumping for my daughter. By the way, there is something infinitely wonderful about a man who will go through the dog's poop to make sure your breast pad hasn't entangled itself in the mutt's intestines. Hi honey!

As for the new puppy...she has a penchant for dead squirrels, dead birds and my son's vomit.

And, that bleach-filled toilet water? It turns out the dogs like that too. I suppose I should count my blessings because my kids never ate any breast pads.

Tell me boys and girls, what's the worst thing your kids (or pets) have ever ingested?

Pain

2009-11-08T19:32:00.009-05:00

On Friday afternoon I sat down to write this post, but I couldn't come up with the right words. I tried again yesterday and here I am again, on Sunday evening, and I am still at a complete loss. It is, quite simply, too painful to trivialize with my voice.

So it has come to this. At a time when there is nothing I can say, I will simply state the facts.

* On February 17, 2004, my niece, Madison, died just shy of her first birthday. My son was too young to comprehend her passing. My daughter was five years old and understood all too well that her cousin was gone.

* On March 1, 2004, a schoolmate of my daughter was run over in our preschool parking lot. Michael was three years old. Telling my daughter that he had been killed in an accident was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

* On September 1, 2007, one of my son's preschool classmates passed away. John was five, as was my son. My son was far too young to say goodbye to a friend and his friend was far too young to die.

* On October 15, 2009, a little girl who attended school with my daughter and whose family goes to our church lost her battle with Fanconi Anemia. Samantha was 11.

* And last week we learned that a nine year old at the school has an inoperable brain tumor and isn't expected to live more than a year. A girl who used to play on my daughter's soccer team and who, until last week, seemed perfectly fine.

Another child. I can not bear it.

I have not told my children yet. My 10 year old daughter and my seven year old son shouldn't have to deal with losing their friends. Not so many of them. Not in the midst of childhood which is supposed to be carefree.

Not again.

Some Like it Hot

2009-11-04T07:13:00.004-05:00

In the school kitchen where I work, things get hot. Not hot like a humid day in Florida, but hot like a humid day on the face of the sun.

At any given moment we could have our ancient oven running, along with the convection oven and three warmers. Add in the steam from the dishwashing sinks and you have yourself your very own steam room. You know, kind of like a spa. Yesterday, I gave myself a green bean facial.

The school doesn't have central air, so to cool the area we use a window air conditioner. That's right. A window air conditioner. If you stand in one particular spot by the trash can, you can almost feel a small breeze. Almost.

But, the heat doesn't cause me to have a bad attitude. Quite the contrary. Because yesterday I told the ladies I work with that if I ever hit the lottery, I'll totally buy them a new window unit.

I'm generous like that.

Let it Go

2009-11-02T07:04:00.001-05:00

There are a lot of things you give up when you have children. You simply have to learn to let some things go. Like a good night's sleep, disposable income and liquid assets.

You also have to accept the muddy floors, juice stained school uniforms and beds that don't make themselves.

You have to understand that the bathmat will get soaked, that little children like to smudge up the television, the computer monitor and the car windows, and even though a backpack has come home without the slightest remnant of a snack for over a month, it doesn't mean you won't look in there one day and suddenly find a small container full of moldy strawberries. Hypothetically.

However, since I started my new job I've found it really hard to let those things go ignored because I just don't have the time to deal with them. It's one thing to see a load of laundry sitting on the floor in the basement and think, "I'll get to that later" and it's something else entirely to actually get it done.

It didn't used to bother me if I saw a pair of socks on the living room floor or dishes in the sink, because I knew I would have time to take care of it. Now, I simply don't get that chance. It's frustrating and I have been letting it drive me crazy.

Yesterday, in the midst of cleaning the house, my daughter asked me to stop and listen to her play a song on her electric piano. As I sat on the edge of her bed and listened to her play Pachelbel Canon, I realized that I really need to stop worrying about whether the floors need swept or if the blinds are dirty.

Because as she played that beautiful music all I could think about was how dusty her keyboard was.

Some See Double, I See Poultry

2009-10-28T07:13:00.000-04:00

I have been known to do unusual things after taking Ambien. What is remarkable about these things is that I often have no recollection of them. Luckily I don't eat, drive or call people. Shout out to my big sister! Put down the phone Trish!

Mostly, I just write. As it turns out, I did some of that last night. I vaguely remember penning notes to my two children and to my husband before I went to bed. I know they were love notes, left for them to read when they woke up. If you had asked me what those notes said this morning, however, I would have been clueless.

So sometimes there are brief remembrances about the previous evening, but not always. I logged on to Twitter today, and had absolutely no memory of leaving this update last night:

On Ambien...just saw woman seductively stick her leg around our bedroom door and it turned out to be a huge Turkey drumstick.

A hallucinating, crazy woman in the bed and a woman with legs made of turkey behind the door.

My husband is one lucky guy.

Call Me Sickly

2009-10-26T07:08:00.000-04:00

Ohmygosh, so like remember when I had swine flu and then after that I got pneumonia? And then my doctor called and sent me to the hospital because he thought I had a pulmonary embolism, but I took a test where I sucked in a bunch of radioactive stuff and the bad pain I was having was actually from pleurisy? And right after I got over the pleurisy pain, I got a cold? And then remember how I told my boss that it was TOTALLY a good thing that I had a sore throat because that meant my sinuses were draining? And then my sinuses stopped draining and I started coughing and my lungs felt like they were filled with concrete so I went to the emergency room in the middle of the night because I thought my pneumonia had come back? And remember how the doctor sent me for my third chest x-ray in the last month and then told me that all that gunk that drained out of my sinuses had gone down my throat and into my lungs?

So it turns out I don't have recurring pneumonia, but it does turn out that the sore throat I had two days ago? Was not such a good thing after all.

Things I Said Yesterday

2009-10-23T07:03:00.003-04:00

To my son:

"Maybe if you would have gone to the bathroom when I told you to, I wouldn't be standing in the shower holding your piece of cheese and trying to wash my hair one-handed!"

"Is that stain on your jacket from when you threw up phlegm at recess or is it a blood stain from yesterday's loose tooth?"

"Hurry up and go poop!"

To the puppy:

"Get your butt off my new throw pillow!"

"Get your butt off my laptop!"

"Hurry up and go poop!"

To my daughter:

"The puppy ate your soccer ball."

To a newly purchased cleaning product:

"Your bottle says 'streak-free shine'. You are not streak-free shining."

To the television:

"Wow. Rick Springfield has had some work done."

To my husband, when he asked me suggestively what was for dessert:

"Chocolate chip cookies."

A Day in the Life: Cafeteria Edition

2009-10-21T07:15:00.000-04:00

I work in a school cafeteria. Okay, I'll just say it. I'm a lunch lady. Stop laughing before I shove my mole in your face.

If you want to read why it's the best job in the world, go here. If you don't want to read that, just know. It is the best. I enjoy the work, I get to see my kids and the people I work with are fantastic. I really love my job. If it paid better I would call it downright perfection instead of referring to it as glorified volunteer work.

There are four of us permanently stationed in the cafeteria. There is my neighbor/friend/manager, who knows all the ins and outs of everything. From when to place the produce order, to the intricacies of the computer program, to which kids like to try to sneak an extra dessert.

I am Worker #1. I sometimes help with the computer work and lunch count, I do a lot of the food prep, serve the kids and help clean up.

Worker #2 arrives at 10:30 and helps with serving and clean up.

The last employee is the prefect. She controls the kids. She keeps the volume low and the mess to a minimum. She is the one who dismisses the children and keeps things orderly. She also has a different parent volunteer who comes in to help her every day.

With the exception of a couple of burns on my arms, nearly running out of taco meat and a few burned French fries, this has been a stress-free job. Until yesterday.

Yesterday, my neighbor/friend/manager went to a funeral and left me to work the computer in her absence. Because I would be doing that, a parent substitute came in to cover for me in the kitchen. Keep in mind, lunch begins being served at 11:15. Here's a recap:

* At 10:30 Worker #2 arrives and says she has a migraine. She never complains and is always reliable and would never leave me hanging out to dry, so I know it's the real deal.

* At 10:31 we determine the parent substitute can't be the only person serving, as the entree is chef salad. The server has to ask each student if they want cheese, ham, pepperoni and/or croutons and add them to the bowl of lettuce. One server = Kids not eating until sunset.

* At 10:35 I begin calling every parent I can think of who might be able to come in and sub for Worker #2 so she can go home and have throbbing head and nausea in peace.

* At 10:45 I give up on finding a substitute.

* At 10:50 I call my pharmacist and ask her this hypothetical question. "Say I have a migraine and I took one Excedrin Migraine at 5:30 AM and another one at 10:15 AM, would it be okay to now take a pleurisy pain pill left over from when I had pneumonia?"

* At 10:51 pharmacist says, "No."

* At 10:55 I run up to the office where there is a parent volunteer covering for the secretary, because the secretary is also at the funeral. I ask the parent if she can come volunteer in the cafeteria after she finishes volunteering in the office. She says, "Yes." Yay! Problem solved!

* At 11:00 I explain the situation to everyone. The permanent prefect will help my substitute in the kitchen and they will both serve the kids. The volunteer who is scheduled to come in will be joined by the volunteer who will be coming down from the office. They will control the kids. I will work on the computer as planned. Got that? No? Me either.

* At 11:07 we realize that half the chairs are being used at the church for the funeral. Three of us make a beeline for the music room and steal all the chairs.

* At 11:10 I realize the mouse on the computer isn't working.

* At 11:11 I beg a teacher to help me. She finds me a new mouse. I doesn't work either.

* At 11:12 the mouse starts working and we all come to the realization that the parent prefect who is scheduled to come in, is not going to show up.

* At 11:13 the other volunteer comes down from her office post and tells us she has never prefected in the cafeteria before.

* At 11:14 I consider taking an Excedrin Migraine. Or five.

* At 11:20 my neighbor/friend/manager stops by after the funeral to check on things and sees that all hell has broken loose.

* At 11:30 my neighbor/friend/manager returns from running home and changing her clothes. Then she jumps in and starts serving the kids. You know? While I work the computer...as planned.

And would you believe that at the end of the day she actually said that she feels comfortable taking a day off now? Clearly, she dipped into my pleurisy pills.

Head Case

2009-10-19T07:07:00.000-04:00

I have been going to the same hair salon for many years. I LOVE my hair salon. I love my stylist, the atmosphere, the service and the fact that kids aren't allowed unless they have an appointment. It has been my little oasis.

However, it's not ideal. Sometimes it's hard to get in, it's a 20 minute drive from my house and it's not cheap. And, that whole not allowing kids thing? It means that getting an appointment is even more difficult because I have to coordinate it with my husband's schedule.

So last week, I walked into the little salon at the end of my street to check it out. Not only does this place allow you to bring your kids, but they'll turn on a TV show for them. It's also $30 cheaper than my regular place. Did I mention it's at the end of my street? Exactly a two minute walk from my front door?

Convenience + Lower Price = "Who Wants to Give Momo Some Highlights?"

Because I was a new customer, the guy took care to make sure the color was right. He used three different shades, then gave me a haircut and waxed my unibrow. I was there for three hours.

When you're sitting in a stylist's chair for the better part of an afternoon, you do a lot of talking. When I got home, I realized that the poor guy probably thinks my name isn't Momo, but rather Liar McLiarson. Why? Because these are a few of the things I told him:

1. That I had just got over swine flu and pneumonia, and that my doctor thought I had a pulmonary embolism.

2. That my son almost died from a strep pneumo infection.

3. That my son almost died after one of his surgeries.

4. That my mom was born in Honolulu and used to go to school barefoot and shimmy up trees to get away from wild boars.

5. That my mom was playing marbles outside a church when Pearl Harbor was bombed and saw fighter planes flying overhead. Then one of them crashed down the street.

6. That my daughter weighed 2 1/2 pounds when she was born.

7. That I used to have a high-pressure career and now I work as a lunch lady because my son sometimes chokes when he eats and I might need to perform the Heimlich.

8. That my husband and I went to Florida for a vacation, where we were greeted with temperatures in the 40's. Then it took us four hours to drive 90 miles and we were rear-ended by a semi.

9. That I'm scared of cats because my neighbor's cat used to stand on its hind legs and swat at me while hissing. Then it would attack me.

10. That I grew seven inches in nine months and ended up with stretch marks on my thighs when I was 12 years old.

Hopefully he thinks the chemicals soaked through my scalp and just made me seem crazy.