United States of Motherhood

One of Life's Little Luxuries in a Bad Economy and Great Marriage: The Good Toilet Paper

2009-07-20T07:16:00.000-07:00

I grew up in a family of eight which necessitated cheap toilet paper.

My mom even tried to institute a 4 squares rule. Seriously!

Since living on my own, then starting our family, quality stuff was the only option.

One of life's little luxuries.

Charmin Ultra Soft Quilted.

But lately, life's got in the way.

Too busy to shop--to keep up.

So it came down to one roll of toilet paper Sunday amongst our three bathrooms. CG carried the roll from commode to commode for it's denizen PB, Li'l man, and me. We barely made it.

I used four squares.

Then, it flew out of my mind as I was off at 6:30 for a swim meet.

I came home to a proud CG. After seriously using a paper towel for his own ((ahem)) needs, he went out and bought toilet paper.

The "strong" kind he said with pride. "The kind that doesn't pill." The kind that doesn't fail.

Fabulous! I was glad we had something; don't get me wrong.

However, he had bought sandpaper on the week-end my stomach has decide to revolt and I've been throwing back Pepto like shots after Taco Bell issues.

My tush is not happy to move from it's soft, billowy Charmin bought in scores of rolls from Costco in the past to cardboard. Strong cardboard, but cardboard nonetheless.

I do believe this might have been one of my husband's first handful of times buying toilet paper in our almost 13 year marriage. He's never strayed before in my loyalty to my toilet paper label loyalty.

I do believe.

I also believe, no matter how grateful I am, it will also be his last. My derriere can't take it.

So what's your poison? Soft? Or strong? Or maybe in this economy, cheap?

Life's Happy Little Accident: Compliments of the Dick Near You

2009-07-17T08:35:00.000-07:00

After 5 days of meets in 6 days, we played hookie from swimming the other day.

Why would such a dedicated swimming family do such a thing?

Someone decided to let the air hiss out of the two passenger side tires on CG's Mini at our latest swim meet Tuesday evening.

It appears someone didn't like him parking in front of their mansion on Mercer Island.

Sigh.

Of course, my absent minded husband didn't notice and drove on the highway for a scant handful of miles and the 10 month old tires were shredded.

Of course, he had three kids with him--two of which we were carpooling home.

I came to the rescue in my trusty SUV steed.

Of course, my car was filled with a red wagon, pop up tent, four massive swim bags, two existing kids, and coolers which required repacking my SUV to fit six kids, a wagon, cooler, and said massive swim bags, plus three more. We stuffed the gigantor pop up tent diagonally in CG's Mini.

Re-packing a SUV on a narrow shoulder while cars careen at highway speeds at dusk at you?

Whooo-ey, fun, my friends. Priceless.

Took said kids home. Dropped our kids home with warnings to make dinner and then straight to bed. Whiplashed back with dinner for CG who had been waiting on the side of the road for 2 hours.

In that time?

Roadside assist couldn't find a blasted contracted tow truck.

We ate in my car while CG juggled three phone lines trying to get someone out there. We finally paid $300, despite roadside assist before the tow truck driver would come. We were promised it would be reimbursed, but my thought wandered to people who don't have a credit card to give over the phone. SOL!

We finally got our car towed to the tire dealer we had a warranty with and got home just 30 minutes or so after midnight.

8:45 PM to 12:30 AM to get towed and home? Ridiculous.

So, that 7:45 practice that requires a 6 AM wake up the next day? That soooo was not happening.

So we played hookie. We slept in.

Well the four of us without a swimming attendance requirements. Eldest went to see Harry Potter with a friend and then went off to an oh-so-luxurious afternoon practice.

Oh, well maybe the three of us, since CG has this little thing called a job.

We took CG to tire store. We got curry for lunch. We argued the warranty and got 2 tires for $130 instead of the $400 offered. We dropped CG at Starbucks to be a corporate wageslave.

We shopped for stuff we didn't need. PB got four outfits. The poor boys got socks.

We drank cool drinks at Starbucks and played board games waiting for CG to finish, scooped Eldest after practice, and then went on an impromptu foray to a restaurant made famous by Sir Mixalot.

Yes, my friends, we went to "Dicks, the place where the cool kids hang out."

The burgers were terrible, soggy fries, and five cents for ketchup.

Pretty much living up to the reputation of a restaurant lauded by a 2 bit, 80's rap star that CG's pimply-faced self listened to in high school.

Yes, what an outrage that we had to pay for ketchup especially since PB practically mainlines the stuff.

And yet, we had grins on our faces.

Fifty cents later for ketchup and another $30 for crappy food, we were off with a smile to find a park.

We found this strange, but cool park on top of a reservoir that we found. Yes, you heard that right--- an underground reservoir in the middle of urban Seattle.

There was a odd troup of hoola hoopers there. A dozen scantily clad women flipping hoops on ankles and necks. Some even lit up. There was even a token or two of men. It made me think of People's Park in Berkeley, but greener and cleaner. We are in Seattle after all --albeit in Sir Mix-a-Lot's old 'hood.

We ate greasy food, not caring about upcoming swim meets. We dipped toes in water fountains. We swung on swings. We watched bizarre hula hoopers. Then we played a raucous hour long game of TV tag. Never would this have happened without two blown tires...making lemonade as usual, my friends.

Ever played? I admit, it's been a while. It's a game of tag where you must yell a cartoon character and squat tot he ground before the person who is it tags you.

Believe me, it's hard to come up with a unique character, yelling "Woody Woodpecker" or "Mighty Mouse," before a kid in much, much better shape tags you.

Then they ask, "Who's Mighty Mouse?"

When you are it, they shriek,"Lois."

I say, "Who?"

"You know, mom, from Family Guy."

Uhhhh....Sigh.

My strategy was in using my mind, rather than running. I went through Looney Tunes, Tom & Jerry, the Disney Princesses, Simpsons, Scooby Doo, Flintstones, Jetsons...

So smart I was. Up and down. Squat after squat. Nope, no running for me. Squat, squat, lunge, hunch, squat...

I haven't been able to walk straight for two days. Seriously. I couldn't sleep the first night because of my throbbing thighs.

Perhaps my lazy butt should have run instead of testing my memory?

Perhaps I shouldn't have eaten a crapload of grease which made me think my 36 year old butt could still gracefully work off those calories with each lunge and swirl like I was six?

Perhaps CG should have parked on the west side of the road or used the free valet parking for his precious Mini?

Perhaps?

I think not. For while we now have costly new tires and I, screaming thighs, I still have a smile on my face.

I like it when life's little accidents turn into some much needed down time.

So yes, inconvenient tires costly, thighs screaming, and yet still a smile.

So to that someone who didn't like CG parking in front of your mansion? I'll call you Dick.

So say there, Dick, thanks for mini-vacation. Our posse had fun on Broadway:

I am sure that is not what you intended. Dick!

Thx for the Flickr pics by timo_w2s

Who Needs a Vacation From Summer Vacation? Admitting You Have a Problem

2009-07-13T18:58:00.000-07:00

Anyone else reading need a vacation from their summer vacation?

Ummm, me!

Pick me!

Swimming two swim teams for three kids seven days a week--sometimes twice a day--has been beyond brutal.

Whatever we do is not enough.

I am sure all of you mom's of kids that play uber competitive sports are nodding their heads in commiseration.

Michael Phelps' mom is a saint. A saint I tell you.

So, I am realizing quickly, with meets, meets, more meets, champs, and long course champs, we have about two weeks free of swimming until the fall schedule starts.

We had a three day weekend of meets ending yesterday, followed by a meet tomorrow. Then next week we have swim meets from Tuesday through to Sunday.

Every. single. effing. day. Sigh.

And fall schedule for swimming starts in mid-August!

(Tap! Tap! Tap! 'Scuse me? Ahem! When did August 18th become fall?!)

So, to all you out there wondering where I've been?

It starts with P and ends in L.

We won't start in about coaching and swim mom dramas.

I could talk all night.

The shining moment of summer so far? We did end up having some wonderful family visits from my sister, brother and their families.

We still went to practice with family here mostly because we are afraid of our swim coach. Seriously. Another story entirely....

However we still managed to show them a lot of the parts of Seattle that we love including Mt. Rainier...

...which was completely snowed in after we drove the three hours to get there which I would have known if I had done my research rather than constantly widening my butt driving to swimming.

Now it's back to swimming, swimming, and, yes, more swimming.

I think my feet are permanently webbed.

My head is a stuffed with carpool schedules, swim practices, and good intentions to disinfect the house some day.

Just please remind me of my resolution to do NOTHING with PTA or the kid's school this fall, m'kay?

I always think I'll catch up in summer, then swim teams hit.

Then I have good intentions once the kids go back to school...then school and swimming and volunteering hits.

So I make resolutions to get my life together once school ends...

Sigh.

It's a vicious cycle. This year I hope to stop my hand popping up and my hand magically writing my name down on volunteer committees.

Hello. My name is Scout's Honor and and I am a volunteer-addicted swim mom.

I hear the first step is admitting you have a problem.

Now that next step...

All that keeps cycling in my head when it comes to steps is the line, "I'm falling and I can't get up!"

Gah! I think drowning might be more appropriate.

Thanks for the Flickr pics by programwitch and by Pierce Place

A Moment of Silence Here: Mourning a Family Pet's Passing

2009-07-05T18:28:00.000-07:00

Shhhhhh!

A moment of silence needed here...

(Pause. Heh! Silence? Me?)

Sadly, PB's fish "Crystal" died while we had six house guests over the last 10 days.

I did not give the passing the proper due attention it deserved.

PB, while clearly distressed was easily distracted by visiting cousins and applying temporary neck and face tattoos.

Even yet, my more than slight stress at permeating house guests in my introverted lifestyle, made me have a minor break in all that's holy about motherhood.

Yes, I told her just to flush it.

PB was brusquely persuaded to swish her little friend Crystal in the porcelain throne...by herself.

No moral support.

Nope! Too busy keeping house in a semblance of cleanliness and free from bio-hazards as sadly I did very little cleaning before said house guests arrived. Even though I had CG stall for two hours after their flight arrived before returning home. Ooops! Sorry Molly.

So, no, no one brushed away PB's non-existent tears . Nope.

She only got a shriek from this Mommy to not bury the poor thing in the flower bed or Seb would dig it up along with $500 in newly planted flowers and landscape with him.

Another shriek ensued when she tried to sneak the decaying fishy corpse into her father's office as he was on a conference call so he could give the event the grave contemplation it deserved.

Not a shining moment for me.

Good moms lament with their children when family pets die.

Good moms use these moments to teach about life cycles, spirituality, pragmatism, creationism, or whatever sage advice of their choice.

They provide hugs and kisses.

Sigh.

Does the fact I've had an extra three kids in the house count? Two toddlers?

Nope. Didn't think so.

So here I sit in the dog house.

No worries. My brother left me plenty of beers with which to drown my conscience.

I think it might be the beer talking because now I am considering this for the thirteen cent feeder fish we had for just under six days who we deliberately bought to cycle our new tank for better fish and for about whom I told the kids not to get attached to even though I knew they would ....

Plot 37 is calling to me.

PS Please don't tell PETA about that fish cycling part. I'll deny it and any knowledge of taking my houseguests to that dastardly place where they throw dead fish. Heh!

I Told Him So!

2009-06-23T13:48:00.000-07:00

We have newly acquired a huge fish tank in the Scouty household.

Don't ask.

Blame it on all this summer sun making this Seattlite sun mad and incapable of resisting the pleas of three beasties.

It was either this or a cat. Sooooo....

The aquarium won out over kitty liter because it filled the gaping hole left in the built-in cabinet in the family room after we got a wide screen TV.

I cannot tell you how much that hole bothered me.

Too big as a shelf.

Too big and arched to put a door on it.

No symmetry.

Ah, OCD flares again.

Eye twitch.

Beasties request made perfect sense.

Aquarium fit better that cat nasty box.

We also acquired 5 new finned friends.

It's has been a few years since our last fish tragedy so I relented.

We each named a fish.

CG named his fish, "Fillet-O!"

"Fillet-O!"

Say it a couple of times aloud and see if anyone around you snickers.

Sounds like something else, yes?

I told CG last night, as I rolled my eyes, that it might not be the best of appellations.

He countered with innocent outrage that I had a filthy mind.

Dirty mind? Me?

Shrug.

Maybe true. However, I didn't believe his innocent outrage for a second.

Today?

PB has been calling CG's fish "Fellatio" all morning.

Sigh.

I rest my case.

I do admit though that my fish, a Plecostomus Agae Eater named "Francoise the French Kisser" or "Frenchie" for short will be in good company.

I do believe CG and I might indeed be well matched.

Dirty minds think alike. Heh!

No Offense! But I Plan To Be a Bit Wordy Today...

2009-06-22T05:51:00.001-07:00

I found this product to the left and thought how appropriate.

If you have children or spend time around children, you've probably been hearing this title above a lot lately.

It's unfortunate that I seem to be.

It's the preface the kids these days say before letting loose their thoughts in rather blunt and oft brutal precision on someone--usually a friend, peer, and yes, even adult.

Somewhere along the way, this latest generation of kids have decided that saying, "No offense," takes away the sting, hurt, and betrayal of saying, for instance, they "hate" your clothing, your hair, or think "you're not the sharpest tool in the shed," etc.

Seriously.

I've run into it quite a bit when I work in my kids' schools and now it seems to have hit home on my son's Facebook account where a bunch of his friends that are girls (some exes, some platonic) roasted him a new one.

I believe one quote was something along the lines of, "No offense, [Eldest], but I don't see what any girl would see in you."

Yep, this bullet was said by a so-called friend.

Ohhh, of course, any pre-teen boy wouldn't find that offensive to have a friend write those words on his front page where his 89 other friends at school and swim team could see...all because she wrote "no offense" first.

Instantly neutralized. Poof!

Sigh.

My question is how did two simple words become the salve that allow one's friends to hurl insults and criticisms?

Sadly, I am now hearing my 7 and 9 year old let loose with the same gusto.

It's infectious.

It appears honesty trumps feelings nowadays.

What ever happened to the old saying, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all?"

Oh, Thumper, I miss you.

Civilized society once curbed their tongue.

Now it's fair game to say something rude to those you love and respect where once you would have curbed your tongue out of respect, if you only preface it with, "No offense."

It needs to be realized that allowing our children to use the "no offense deodorant" as a shield to say things we might not otherwise say is just wrong. In my house, those words are met with just as swift a response a a four-letter word.

So, let me get in on the game:

No offense, Eldest's friends, but saying no offense before saying something ugly and rude still makes you look ugly and rude.

As for Eldest, luckily, he's a preteen boy and it rolled off his back since he does not seem to care much about anyone's opinion. I am not sure PB would fare so well.

So. my questions, my friends, is do I get involved?

Should I talk to the young lady or her parents? I see them both regularly.

As a mother, it kills me not to say anything since this girl has also been quite physical in the past...

Oh, don't get me started on that one. Okay, maybe a few words on that topic. I deserve to be a bit wordy since it's been a while between posts. Heh!

I am finding more and more that while young men are taught never to harm even a hair on a girl's head, we've encountered one girl after another who has failed to be taught the same.

There was one who left scratches and bruises on him because she "liked" him. She was 18 months older, 4 inches taller and outweighed him by 30 lbs.

Another likes to with all regularity to kick my son when he gets mouthy. He's been writing quite a few checks that have been cashed in with bruises. It seems parents look the other way because the checks are written by girls.

He had yet one more throw a full water bottle in a car on the highway at his face which gave him a fat lip. He's lucky she didn't break a tooth. No apology. No repercussions.

I am just waiting to find out they all said, "No offense," before they slap him.

My friends, especially those with preteens and teenage girls, a little help here? Advice? I don't think my inclination to bitch-slap a 13 year old is exactly the best policy. Nor is saying to this NSFW below response to their parents:

Living with my son, I know he's not innocent. He can give verbally as good as he gets, but the physical aspects of his female friendships coupled with somewhat of cyber-bully comments are getting to me of late.

We already had to take issue with one bully at middle school this last year slamming him into lockers leaving with a stiff neck. It got resolved pretty quickly since our school does have a no bullying policy. However, I wonder how many bullying incidents, where girls are the aggressors, simply aren't being reported.

Boys are just supposed to take it?

It's making me angry that we've taught our son to never be physical and we are trying to teach him that words do hurt and other parents may not be raising their children to have that very same civilized respect.

Stupid Uterus

2009-06-09T12:34:00.001-07:00

Source: http://xkcd.com/594/

My geeky husband sent me this. So typical. Heh!

So, all you waiting with bated breath for my decision?

Start breathing or you might go the way of poor David Carradine. Okay, maybe not that bad, but it's still going to be a while.

I am waiting to make a decision after school lets out and family visits. I don't want to rush it.

I know, it sounds like I am avoiding the issue, but seriously, I have/had two class parties to plan, 1 teacher gift and still collecting money, swim meet last weekend and one this next weekend, two concerts for two different kids, literacy day, field day, 38 swim practices for three kids, two gymnastics practices, a 30 minutes slide show and 25 CDs to burn, 23 personalized laminate cups for 1st grade momentos, and staying up until midnight helping Eldest convert a huge project on PowerPoint to add mp3 and movie files...All in the last two weeks!

Then, with my house trashed, I have 7 family members coming a week later. I have not planned anything. Don't know where they'll sleep yet. Don't know what we'll eat. No idea where we'll go. Luckily, they're okay with that. The guilt is still coming at me in waves.

My point being I really am not procrastinating.

Really.

Not putting myself first either, but not procrastinating.

Hopefully, every- thing will calm down in July...Right-o!

So I still need to focus and be at complete peace with any decision I make:

Plucking out one's bits like cherries seems so permanent which sounds both good and bad at once.

Friday Night Funny: Hammer Pants Time

2009-06-05T19:12:00.001-07:00

Have you seen those drive by Zombie gatherings? Now imagine them in gold lame Hammer pants:

The customers' face are priceless.

To Friend or Un-friend: Negotiating the High School Drama of the Internet, Stumbleupon, Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, and Beyond.

2009-06-05T12:25:00.000-07:00

My friends, the Internet can be so high school.

Everyone is vulnerable.

Give someone a shield of anonymity and a high speed connection and it ain't nothing, but drama all over again.

The hysterics. The bullying. The campaigning. My friends against your friends. My posse against your posse.

I try not to let it get to me. People with too much time on their hands. I mainly try to steer clear.

Alas, I still get a little slighted and even have had my feelings hurt when I've been unfriended myself because I wrote something that runs contrary to one of my readers or "friends" own beliefs.

Isn't the Internet a space to discuss?

To be open-minded?

People seemed to be so easily offended. In fact, CG pointed out CNN covered this very topic yesterday.

So, a blogging friend, Pinkpackrat, recently wrote a post about finding Obama inspiring. I may not have agreed, but I love that I can get different perspectives from a variety of people and blogs.

Sadly, she got the short end of the stick and was unfriended. Not by me. No reason or explanation. Just cut off.

Deja Vu.

This was my windy response to her:

Oh. honey. I hate being unfriended.

You may have guessed, I am conservative, but I always appreciate a well-balanced, open minded discussion.

I lost 10 friends on Stumble and about 15 regular readers on my blog because of my gay marriage posts that I stumbled.

A Republican that supports gay marriage right? Pashaw!

Personally, my thoughts are if I want less government that means less government for everybody including staying out of people's lives and right of marriage and to be happy.

So that said, it always sucks to be unfriended. Worse is when you get a liberal and conservative using your post to be disrespectful to each other in comments.

You like them both and they want you to pick a side...grrr...I am already a mother to three. Sigh. That's happened more than once.

I like respectful disagreement. So perhaps your unfriends knew they couldn't articulate their positions respectfully so chose to unfriend. Maybe it's a good thing?

That's what I tried to convince myself of as well as : Do you/I really only want a fair-weathered friend and yes man?

Not me. No worries here. I may not always agree or "up" by I do read with an open mind.

The only time I unfriend is if they constantly demand reviews or spam me to death with Noni juice or hotels in far flung places or SEO software. (Note: Or are openly hateful or racist)

I know, I know. Such a pushover.

Me? Scout.

It happens. I sometimes like keeping the peace.

So, my friends, how do you deal with the unfriend?

Or being kicked off someone's blogroll without a why?

Or never getting on their blogroll in the first place even though they visit, you comment, they comment, you blogroll, and ... nothing?

It's like being picked last at school or better yet, having the friend that doesn't acknowledge your presence at school.

What about Facebook? Do you take it personally if they ignore your requests?

Just curious because lately I've run into a whole lot of close-minded, teenage mentality peeps on the blogiverse: If you don't believe exactly as I believe, I am taking my ball and going home.

The balance though is there are so many better, positive blogs out there that makes it worthwhile and most of them don't reflect my own beliefs because my friends, I already got a mirror at home.

Thx for the Flickr pics by just.Luc, Eddie~S , by nouQraz and by carf .

What a Waste of My Culinary Skillz: Scout-berry Cobbler

2009-06-03T21:40:00.001-07:00

Doesn't this look delicious? Beautiful.

It's fresh from the oven and still bubbling.

Can you taste it? I can envision a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream cloyingly melting into it's tart and crumbly mass.

Butter, sugar, and berries.

Does it get any better?

Not really, but it can get worse. You see this Scoutberry Cobbler was made without measurement. A haphazard splash of this, a dash of that. It didn't matter. It can never be replicated. Never.

Sadly? It will never be tasted. Never.

It's for PB's market day. Something about trade and her team being Australia and mumble mumble...oh, yes, Australia exports oats and fruit and sugar cane and dairy...blah, blah...can you tell school is almost over?

So, very educational. Ahem. Yeah. Educational especially since it was my butt making the cobbler at 9 PM tonight before I am off for an all-day field trip with Li'l Man to the Seattle Zoo tomorrow. Joy.

To be truthful, the teacher said it was on the kids to make anything they wanted to display.

It could have been a paper maiched pie or even straight up paper.

However, tell that to my soft-hearted brown eye girl who had already extricated a promise from me to help her (that would be me mostly) make one of my apparently famous, whipped up in 30 minute cobblers the kids love.

She had mentioned it to her teammates. They were counting on me.

So this cobbler is, but a sample product.

Not enough to be shared or eaten.

Instead it will be touched, pawed, poked, smelled, sneezed and breathed on by a huge mass of elementary school kids with less than exemplary hygiene at the school's international market.

Germs cloyingly melting into it's crumbly tart exterior. Doesn't sound as nice, eh?

So alas, to the dustbin it will go.

What a waste. She's a beauty.

By the look of her, the best I've ever made which is doubly sad because I measured nothing; so, no, results will be unlikely to be duplicated. Sigh.

Ah well, this below is also a beauty, the best I've ever made, and again, can never be duplicated in her perfection:

Beautiful. Well worth the energy...

The Greatest of Sacrifices: Safeguarding My Husband's Health

2009-06-03T05:00:00.000-07:00

I am a hero.

A hero!

I saved my husband from eating a doughnut yesterday...

I ate it.

That's how much I love him.

Heh.

So much for oatmeal.

And CG? You're welcome.

Thx for the flickr pic by _mpd_

Hello Future: No Nets To Catch Males Here

2009-06-02T17:58:00.000-07:00

Net to catch the males? Bah! I think three is plenty in this household.

Fitted with coins, keys, and candies for cuties? See if CG had had a belt like this one mentioned, we wouldn't have been at risk for identity theft.

And women wearing pants? Oh pish!

An atmosphere that is scientifically kept to the right temperature? Sigh. Did I mention it's 90 degrees here and we don't have air conditioning?

Ugh, Seattle isn't supposed to be this hot. I note that they did not mention global warming in the video. I am thinking those rip off sleeves look very tempting right now.

The Land o' Tarty Living: Scout's Mockjitos Recipe

2009-06-02T10:23:00.000-07:00

Serves 40 -- 8 ounce cups

Punch Concentrate

60 Limes—juiced night before (7.5 cups)

2-½ cups sugar (superfine if you have it)

5 cups packed fresh mint (stems and all since it will be easier to strain later)

2 — 2-liter bottles of Seltzer Water

1 large bag party ice

Garnishes

10 limes — thinly sliced day of serving — set aside

15 sprigs mint to set aside

½ cup sugar — set aside (coarse sugar and turbinado sugar is nice, but white will do)

In a large bowl, combine lime juice, sugar, and 5 cups mint; stir until sugar has fully dissolved. Take back of wooden spoon or muddler and crush/bruise mint against side of bowl to release mint oil. Get brutal. Take out your aggression on that mint, my friends. Pour into large pitcher or Ziploc bags overnight in refrigerator to steep. Don’t store in anything metallic—only glass or plastic.

Next day: Strain concentrate to remove mint since it will be browned from steeping overnight.

Stir or Shake concentrate to incorporate any sugars that have settles at bottom of refrigerated container(s). Add concentrate to large punch bowl. Add one bag party ice. Stir. Add 2 – 2 liters of club soda. Stir slowly to incorporate concentrate with soda. Slice limes and take stems off 15 springs of mint. Add limes and mint to bowl to garnish. Taste and add more sugar if needed, but this should be rather tart and refreshing—not sweet.

Put 2 ounces of punch into shallow bowl. Dip clean cup’s rim into liquid. Add ½ sugar set aside into second shallow bowl. Dip wettened cup in sugar to rim. Ladle punch into cup. Try to get each cup 1 sprig mint and/or slice lime to garnish.

Not feeling mock-ish? Add 2 liters of rum or one big ass bottle of Bacardi from Costco to punch bowl before you add seltzer. Yep, spike that bowl. Heh!

Need smaller amount? Halve everything. Still too much? Halve it again. Freakin' lightweight.

Enjoy, my friends. Perfect for a warm summer's day.

Thx 4 the pic by massdistraction 'cause these never last long enough to take pictures.

It's His Party and I Can Cry If I Want to: My Mission To Simplify Our Birthday Parties

2009-05-30T07:35:00.000-07:00

See this little guy? It's his birthday party in that picture. He's two and it was a train party with sandwiches carved into trains, train rides for 40 guests on real steam engine miniature trains, pinatas, tent set up at park, and all the trimmings.

So, I am know for my parties. I am the penultimate party lady.

At school, people have seriously told me they were so sad they didn't make it into one of my children's classes because they knew I'd be party mom.

They knew?

I've been trying to extricate myself from that Martha Stewart part of my life for a while now. I am only co-party mom to one child's class this year, but I cannot escape my reputation.

I self-patterned, hand-sewed and stuffed these last year for one school party:

Yes, 30 stuffed coyotes, hand sewn scarves to choose from, carefully glued button eyes the kids chose at school. Yep, a very labor intensive build-a-bear.

Almost as labor intensive as the 30 minuted DVD we had for Eldest's class I put together with music and transitions.

Yep, trying to escape my reputation of 15 girls at a sleep over with chocolate facials, homemade, triple-decker cakes with homemade ganache on pedestals and columns, personalized lip glosses and hand lotion gift baggies, and crazy intricate decoration. Did I mention we used the good china? The chips were in hand cut crystal bowls?

I know. Ridiculous. I am the mom you hate.

Or a pirate birthday party with 25 6th graders each given costumes to ravage the neighborhood before return for an so over the top pirate theme with bones and gold strewn throughout the house with massive amounts of games, pizza, homemade goodies, and cake.

Did I mention this party was 6 hours long?? Or that there were over 40 Jolly Roger Flags purchased and displayed?

Arrrrrgh!

This year has been the year of slowly trying to slow down the party mania both in time for me and cost.

Oh, my goodness, the cost. With never wanting to hurt feeling, we have the precedent of large attendance parties, but I am embarrassed to admit that comes at a cost of $400-700 a party and more if I am not keeping track.(Using my best Jedi master technique: CG you did not read this.)

All those party favors, food, decor, parchment invitations, etc. add up. It's ridiculous.

PB's birthday at the SPCA did have 26 guests, but everything else was ramped down a notch and really it was for charity. It still was over $500.

Now Li'l man is up:

This year? I beyond suck. His party today is only 4-1/2 months late. He's been patient. Last year, his party was only 3 months late.

There's something about being a third child whose party falls right after the holidays. Sigh.

So today, we are having our most casual party ever: 6 guests plus the the birthday boy and us, a kid's movie, evite invitations, and Red Robin for lunch afterward.

I am not even bothering with a cake--the singing ice cream sundae from the waiters will do. I'm letting the balloons be Red Robin balloons as the only decor.

Party favors are something last minute we picked up last night rather than this intricate process of labeling and personalizing everything. Simple little buckets of candy with a punch balloon on top since we are going to see "Up."

It's strange to have a party this easy. There's no stress. There will be no clean up. I am hoping we go under $200. There is no grimacing to make everything perfect.

That's it.

After 13 years of motherhood, I've realized everything doesn't have to be perfect. They'll have fun regardless without the huge production.

Maybe I am just off my game this year, or maybe this is the new Scout that realizes enjoying the party with my kids is more important that making it perfect.

Or maybe I realize with two back to back swim practices, then a Marimba concert right before the party, then this party, then two huge school projects the kids need to finish this week-end, then add one more swim practice tomorrow, that we are all tapped out as a family. (breathe)

Yep, I am a slow learner. Must simplify.

The Crap Load of Oatmeal Diet: Otherwise Known As I am Sick of Being Fatter Than My Husband Who Eats Crap

2009-05-29T13:14:00.000-07:00

cue music

I like big oats and I cannot lie
Those other brothers can't deny,
That when a bowl walks in with an itty bitty...

Okay, so who am I kidding here?

There's nothing itty-bitty about today's breakfast. This is one huge ass bowl full of desperation and hope all tied up with a ribbon on top.

CG, dear CG, has had some health problems of late, that I have blogged about way more than he would like. But wait!

I have good news to report. The results are in, my friends!

With medication and diet, he dropped 49 points on his cholesterol test in a matter of two months.

Seriously! One point from fifty.

The diet? Oatmeal. Old-fashioned kind. Every morning with a handful of exceptions.

Let me mention the intent was to lower cholesterol, but an added, unintended, but awesome bonus was that he lost 20 lbs during that time. He's 6"2.5", and he weighs 185 lbs.

Did I mention I hate him?

Seriously.

Okay, not seriously. Okay, yes seriously, but only an itty-bitty bit about the size of my butt.

So twenty pounds in 2 months with no extra exercise or change in lifestyle except to chill out on the bacon and cheese and supplement oatmeal instead, he's shedding pounds like crazy.

He looks good. Really good.

So, he ate 1/2 cup oatmeal every morning and swore it kept him full for most of the day.

Hmmmm....

We all know what I am thinking yes? Remember Alli? Yes, Alli. If one is good, more must be better after eating donut?

Bad idea, my friends. Baaaaaad idea. Did I learn? {chirp, chirp}

Yep, so, like all Americans, I was thinking, if 1/2 cup is good, more is better. Hence the oatmeal above.

Okay, I admit, through some measuring errors (adding oatmeal to measuring cup with milk in it already is not the most accurate) might have increased it's sheer magnitude.

So, instead of 1 cup cooked, it was maybe....3 1/2 cups.

I was able to eat 1/3 of it before I never wanted to see oatmeal again. I saved the rest for lunch. Guess what? 1:30 has rolled around and I'm still stuffed.

Hmmmm....my husband might be on to something. It's akin to bloating/banding one's stomach...only with a crap load of fiber.

And when I say a crap load of fiber? I mean {eyebrows raised} a crap load of fiber.

Something tells me I will be very regular tomorrow and mayhaps even a few ounces lighter, my friends..

I'll keep you posted...about the ounces and weight-loss, not the regularity. Heh!

Bigotry

2009-05-28T09:08:00.000-07:00

big⋅ot⋅ry

[big-uh-tree] –noun, plural -ries.

1.	Stubborn and complete intolerance of any creed, belief, or opinion that differs from one's own.

2. Narrow-mindedness, bias, discrimination.

3. California's Proposition 8.

Humbled: Update on Land of EKGs

2009-05-27T09:00:00.000-07:00

We received an early morning call from our pediatrician.

The results are in.

After reviewing all data, Seattle Children's said those blessed words, "Normal."

"Normal? All three?"

"Yes, normal."

"Are you sure?" I knew the universe could be screwing with me with something as simple as bad paperwork.

"All. three. normal." The nurse said with amusement in her voice.

Did you sense my stress melt away?

My body slumped.

Thank you universe.

Eldest yells from the background, "What? She has to get her heart removed?"

Note this was said as loudly as possible to freak out sister with maximum velocity.

I raised my eyebrows.

"Oh, dang it. She'll live."

Strike heart condition. Add bowlfuls of sibling rivalry.

Everything is getting back to normal in Scout territory.

The natives are vicious, but as healthy as a horse, as usual...

Thx for the flickr pic by Balakov

Decisions, Decisions

2009-05-26T18:14:00.000-07:00

So I have many decisions lately.

Lots of decisions.

Endless decisions.

Still no answers.

Clean house or blog?

Think, think, think...

Hysterectomy or Uterine Ablation? Still pondering.

To preserve or not preserve your child's first arm pit hair? Hmmmm....

To reward or not for good grades? Let me chew on this Red Vine while I deliberate.

Swimming or Grades? Can they co-exist? Dunno.

However, Eldest added more to the mix for that question today. He emailed me a poem he wrote over the week-end. The assignment was a personal narrative poem.

Can we guess what the subject was? I'll give you 3 hints.

Shocking as this was, it wasn't about cell phones, farts, teasing his sister, or world peace.

Check it out:

Down the Lane

As I speed down the lane,

I leave ripples in the water.

As I race down the lane,

I leave friends and enemies in my bubbles.

As I speed down the lane,

I am in pursuit.

As I swim down the lane,

I rule with my suit.

As I speed down the lane,

People gasp and stare.

As I dive into the lane,

The pool welcomes me into its grasp.

As I speed down the lane,

I see the fatigue in my muscles.

As I race down the lane,

I am near the end.

As I speed down the lane,

The end is in sight.

As I reach for the wall,

Exhausted and tired, I fall.

Did I mention he loves swimming? Sigh. There's no doubt. Still thinking on this. Can you smell the smoke?

______________________________________________________________

I do know one thing that doesn't require a decision.

Beliefs versus equal rights? No brainer, my friends.

No matter your beliefs, no one has the right to use those beliefs to take away another's rights.

Last I checked we believed in a secular government in this nation. Common law dictates a separation of church and state and the constitution prohibits the establishment of any one church.

Does that stop anyone from their beliefs or practices? No.

However, nor should it stop anyone who does not have the same beliefs as you.

It's a slippery slope. What happens when you are the group next up to be scapegoated?

Love is love whether you are a straight or gay couple.

I found a voice of reason today.

Please read it to the very end until you judge. You may not agree with her beliefs and even I may not agree with her beliefs, but I think we can all agree with her thoughts on where her beliefs belong--in her home, in her church, but not in secular government.

Co-exist keeps circling in my mind.

Shame on you, California. Prop. 8 is a blight.

On the good side, I think we are a generation away from erasing this bigotry.

It is taking a long time, but eventually equality in the eyes of the law will actually mean something.

Thx for the flickr picsby hanssolo. and by aharvey2k.

How Often do You Bathe Your Dogs: A Confession

2009-05-26T14:19:00.000-07:00

Here is my secret of the day:

I haven't bathed my elderly dogs in 8 months.

Eight months.

It seems so cruel. They are frail. They rarely go outside except to relieve (as few steps out the doggy door as possible) themselves in the Seattle rain then back inside.

Water has always terrified them.

And? To be honest, it's a chore to get them in a tub.

They fight. They growl. They shake and tremble. They dig in their heels.

They are 11 and 15 years old. Poor pups. The anxiety and stress of a bath alone could still their elderly hearts -- or at least that's what they would like me to think.

However?

Today is one day too long.

They shed. They smell. There is evidence of dingle berries.

Forgive me, my pups.

You are getting a bath.

Too Many Medical Procedure Videos: Raising Boys

2009-05-25T15:23:00.000-07:00

Li'l Man whacks PB on her belly when he plops his feet in her lap while reclining on our couch. It's not a hard hit, but she squeals, ever dramatic.

His head hangs upside down off edge to watch Kung Fu Panda.

Yes, real estate on this here sectional is dear.

PB: "Hey!"

Li'l Man flippantly: "What! It's not like you really need your uterus or anything."

Me: {{Eyebrows raised}}

Li'l Man: "What?! It's not like she needs her uterus or something."

His voice is indignant as his hands move to his hips.

He stands stubbornly by his first statement. No negotiation.

Yes, my seven year old thinks uteri (Would that be the plural of uterus, heh!) are redundant.

It's my own fault.

After watching this the other evening, I told him not to worry and that I didn't really need my uterus anymore.

In seven year old, I guess that I speak for the entire female population. Men are so literal.

Me: "Yes, dear son, I think she might want to keep that part of her undamaged. If it's okay for PB to get whacked if her uterus, then that means it's okay for you to get whacked by PB in your..." I trail my voice off for effect and point downward.

I look down below his waist. He immediately understands and does a half-cringe.

No more need to communicate.

Boys! It is so easy to communicate through their sympathetic communication centers.

Their father is the same way.

Thx for the flickr pic by paul goyette

In The Land of EKG: Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome Part #2

2009-05-24T22:40:00.000-07:00

Okay, I can't leave the last post like that. We need some humor, don't we?

So, at the EKG for Eldest yesterday, he looked so solemn. He laid on the bed as the technician applied the stickers and attacked the wires. He looked worried. I was worried. I had just heard about PB.

I sat at the end of the bed.

I slowly crept my hands to touch his head, stroke his hair and said...

..."Zzzzzzztd," as I suddenly stiffened my fingers and grabbed his head. Zap!

Yep, I made an electrocution sound.

It made Eldest smile. It made me smile. It made CG smile. It made the technician smile.

Tension from the room gone. Okay, mostly gone.

CG said if was effed up.

Hell yes it was, but it worked. When life gets you down, when in doubt, insert humor.

Yep, that's how Scout rolls. Heh!

UPDATE: Psssst... Want to hear it from CG's perspective? Yes, Scout's CG, My CG, blogs. Yes, he does. He wrote about the the kids' EKG with more details here.

Thanks for the flicr pic by mako

In The Land of EKG: Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome

2009-05-24T11:45:00.000-07:00

My husband has a potentially fatal heart condition called Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome amongst his many other heart conditions/issues.

It's that freak thing that happens when an otherwise perfectly healthy athlete drops dead on the field.

A ticking time bomb.

Turns out it can be genetic.

Good News: The local hospital was able to finally see my three kids for EKGs.
We got it done yesterday. The boys' EKG results turned out normal.

Bad News: PB's EKG turned out borderline abnormal. We wait for Seattle Childrens hospital to review her results. We have to wait a few days because of the long week-end.

For now, I do what all mothers do. I worry.

I should have know the child that looks the spitting image of him with dark eyes, dark hair, a tendency to be a bit "furry" would also have his heart.

She has my heart as well...

...in a worried vise.

Thx for the flickr pic by d ha rm e sh

Giggle of the Day: You Just Got To Love Vince

2009-05-22T09:06:00.001-07:00

...Even if he slaps his prosties after she tries to bite off his tongue.

Botulism: Truly Not One Of My Favorite Things

2009-05-22T04:30:00.000-07:00

The best part of waking up in the morning is not dishes.

Nope, is it not.

Know what's worse?

Day dreaming whilst opening your daughter's thermos that's been sitting on the counter by the sink for the last few days only to realize your mistake not to recognize the hiss until too late....

Splat.

(Wipe explosive material off cheek in form of rotten red tomato sauce and swear at the splashes on the walls.)

Curse you, botulism. Curses!

Inching Those Grades Upward: Finding Balance Between Sports and School

2009-05-21T09:27:00.001-07:00

You might have noticed we've been riding Eldest of late. His grades last trimester included two C's which is completely unacceptable in this family.

He hadn't even been trying.

He may have not gotten the right fit of teachers this year, but there was no denying the F he got on a English project that required several paragraphs of explanation and he wrote a scant four word sentence in place of each paragraph.

Four!

He also didn't try on his standardized tests this winter and his scores dipped as low as 35 percentiles.

We were shocked. Was it comprehension or sheer laziness and attitude tested that day?

Education is so important to us and always has been.

I think we might have gotten off course and actually considered dropping swimming entirely last week because while, honey, swimming might get you some scholarships and get you entrance to some universities you might not have been able to attend otherwise if you are good, it doesn't pay the bills.

Ask Aaron Piersol. Ask Jason Lezak. Yep, as Newsweek monickered him, he's "America's Unemployed Olympic Hero."

What did he get for his gold medals over several Olympics?

3-4 speaking engagements and $1750 monthly which barely covers the mortgage.

I've heard Megan Jendrick, being on our team, is also not raking in the dough.

I'll take my son having an education and career over some stinking medal any day.

And yet, we've invested so much time on this sport that our children love.

Sadly, all these academic UN-achievements came at the same time that we discovered that Eldest was ranked 38 in the nation for one of his events in his age group. He made top 100 on a couple more.

Sigh.

Lovely. Sometimes it seems to be a choice between academics and swimming.

He loves swimming. His friends and social circle are there. It's his thing. But he used to love to read? He used to get great grades? Where did that boy go?

So, when grades faltered yet again, there was nothing left to take away. Already gone was his iPod, DS, Wii, computer in room, cell phone, Facebook account, and grounded indefinitely?

So? We took away the summer rec. team. I told him he couldn't participate.

Then today?

I check his grades online and the C's are now a B and B-. The rest are at least an A-.

He's coming around just when I am deciding we need to find some balance.

So I'm faltering. Do I turn rec. team into a carrot rather than stick? Is that considered a bribe?

I went ahead and told him if he gets five A-/B+s and no less than a B in the last class, Rec team is back on the table.

Was I wrong? Am I wrong to let swimming take over our life?

Swimming seven days a week. Some days we leave for swimming at 3:30 and get home at 9 PM.

Dinner is eaten on the run most nights.

Homework is done in the car, in the stands of the pool, or at the nearby library.

CG begrudges the time swimming takes away from family.

All other sports and activities have fallen by the wayside.

I'm trying to figure out the balance.

Anyone out there have a child in a sport that requires such a time commitment?

Were you in a competitive sport to this extent as a child?

How did you make it work? Or did it work? Was it worth it?

Any advice?

How does one deal?

Thx for the Flickr pics by billaday, by A. Dawson, by garybirnie.co.uk , and James Jordan

United States of Motherhood

One of Life's Little Luxuries in a Bad Economy and Great Marriage: The Good Toilet Paper

Life's Happy Little Accident: Compliments of the Dick Near You

Who Needs a Vacation From Summer Vacation? Admitting You Have a Problem

A Moment of Silence Here: Mourning a Family Pet's Passing

I Told Him So!

No Offense! But I Plan To Be a Bit Wordy Today...

Stupid Uterus

Friday Night Funny: Hammer Pants Time

To Friend or Un-friend: Negotiating the High School Drama of the Internet, Stumbleupon, Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, and Beyond.

What a Waste of My Culinary Skillz: Scout-berry Cobbler

The Greatest of Sacrifices: Safeguarding My Husband's Health

Hello Future: No Nets To Catch Males Here

The Land o' Tarty Living: Scout's Mockjitos Recipe

It's His Party and I Can Cry If I Want to: My Mission To Simplify Our Birthday Parties

The Crap Load of Oatmeal Diet: Otherwise Known As I am Sick of Being Fatter Than My Husband Who Eats Crap

Big*ot*ry

big⋅ot⋅ry

Humbled: Update on Land of EKGs

Decisions, Decisions

How Often do You Bathe Your Dogs: A Confession

Too Many Medical Procedure Videos: Raising Boys

In The Land of EKG: Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome Part #2

In The Land of EKG: Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome

Giggle of the Day: You Just Got To Love Vince

Botulism: Truly Not One Of My Favorite Things

Inching Those Grades Upward: Finding Balance Between Sports and School

Bigotry