The Lesser of Evils

I resisted the urge to be catty and gossipy today.

As an aside, one of my friends mentioned that she finds someone in our mom's group to be totally annoying. Since it really didn't have anything to do with our conversation, I told her she didn't have to tell me who...

Hurray for me, right?

So, why has it been driving me NUTS that I don't know who it is?

Well okay, I kinda know, but not really and I can't stop wondering about it...

I am going to get so fat

So, my latest obsession with Big Love has lead me to my next obsession...

NetFlix.

Ever-late to hop on the bandwagon, my husband and I didn't subscribe until now because we hardly ever watched movies. What with the new baby, my husband's long hours, and adjusting to changing routines... Sigh! We barely had two hours to ourselves, much less time to plunk our rears in front of a screen.

Things have since calmed down a bit. As mentioned before, my husband has been devoting more time to his personal projects, which is great for him but leaves me with some more free time on my hands (once our son gets to bed, of course)...

I wasn't until I found myself making multiple trips to the "evil corporate movie rental giant" in one week, that it became evident that there's a easier (*cheaper*) way! After comparing competitors and a little friendly peer pressure, we signed up for Netflix last weekend and started ranking our favorites... and whadaya' know?! I learned something new and quirky about my husband.

The man LOVES taking surveys. No, really. Apparently, sharing his thoughts and opinions give him the same tingly, dizzy, cross-eyed, excited feeling that I would reserve for the purchase of designer handbag or the perfect shoes... He stayed up until only who knows when one night bequeathing star ratings to film after film, then arranging our queue just so. (Nerd!)

I, on the other hand, generally have trouble waiting for things ordered online to arrive. I'm all about the instant gratification when I purchase something. Since we signed up on a Friday, our first three DVDs weren't sent out until Monday and didn't arrive until Tuesday.

That night, INSTEAD of getting to bed early so I could get to the gym the next morning.... we watched... Nay! DEVOURED the first two episodes of another HBO series, Rome. With the exception of the excessive violence and grossly gratuitous T and A, I was digging the storyline and costumes... until this one line given at towards the end of Episode Two:

Caesar is in Italy! Caesar is in Italy!

Ummmm, Italy didn't become "Italy" until its unification in the late 1800's. Prior to that, the Italy as we know it now was comprised of various city states and kingdoms... Caesar actually crossed the Rubicon into Province of Gallia Cisalpina (today’s northern Italy), which no general with his armies was allowed to do at the time. Hence the term, "Crossing the Rubicon", means going past the point of no return. Thank you, liberal arts education and semester in Rome. You never fail me.

Yes, I am a NERD too. For some reason that really irked me and since we all know how it ends (ahem, spoiler alert: Rome falls), I returned the DVD right away and shoved the rest of the series further down our queue.

The next day, instead of doing crunches during my son's nap like I promised myself I would... I devoured another movie, Maxed Out, a documentary on America's personal and national debt. Forget about horror films. I don't really like them anyway. Stuff like this is what really keep me up at night... and thus preventing me from getting to the gym at the only time that I can-- very early in the AM.

I can already feel my butt widening.

Tsk! Tsk! I should be ashamed, but I'm not.

What does it say about me when I blow off a mommy-and-me pool party to stay home and indulge in something less G-rated...

Mind out of the gutter, kids. I'm talking about curling up on the sofa to watch the first season of Big Love on DVD.

Maybe it makes me a lousy friend, but I just couldn't take ONE MORE get-together where we all sit around and compare our kids' teeth, sleep schedules, eating habits, walking, and blah-bitty-blah-blah... Well, for today at least.

That's right, single people, you heard me, Talking about our kids' all the time bores me too!

Ironically, I ditched this particular group of mommy friends for a show that none of them would have approved of... and Boy! are they missing out. This show is unbelievable! As well as, highly addictive... As soon as I finished watching the first two DVDs, I made my husband run out and rent the next three. RIGHT NOW!

We decided to cancel cable months ago in an effort to save some money and our brains from going to mush... Even though there are a few shows we really miss and others (like this one) that we almost bypass completely, we've agreed that it's been for the best. I've since started reading again and, of course, joined the blogosphere. We spend our weekends getting things accomplished (and NOT watching The Real Housewives of Orange County). My husband has gotten serious about his personal projects and began devoting "office hours" to them.

It was on one of these "working nights" that I decided to rent some DVDs and happened upon the first two episodes of Big Love. Having heard so much about it, I was intrigued and now I'm hooked. THANK GOODNESS for "TV-on-DVD" being so hot!

The only problem is my total and utter lack of self-control. I managed to watch the entire season in a matter of days. Not that there were that many episodes... but STILL.

More Confessions

Intrigued, I "googled" for more true online confessions and found one more. This one isn't specifically mommy-related...

True Mom Confessions

Hmm, how best to describe this deliciousness?

I know. I'll just post an excerpt from the site. I hope they don't mind...

"I have a fantasy that a really hot stripper would pay me a visit (when I have no kids around! yeah right!)

The part that would be a major turn-on is when he got to his thong he wouldn't stuff his junk in my face, he would whip out cleaning supplies.

He would dance around as he deep cleaned my house, windows, grout, the fridge. That would get me off!

Come to think of it he wouldn't even need to be hot, so long as he cleaned well ;) "

Spread the word!

Instant Karma

This morning, I took my son to playtime at Gymboree. It's open to kids of all ages, provided they're currently enrolled in one of their classes.

A girl about three years old ran over to play with my son. She took a toy from him when her mom, "Braggedy Ann", swooped in to remind her to "play nicely". I complimented the little girl on how well she shared after that and the mom turned to me to ask...

Braggedy Ann: How old is he? (pointing to my son).

Me: Just turned a year on Wednesday.

Braggedy Ann: Is he walking?

Me: On his own? Not yet, but he holds on...

Braggedy Ann: Well, my daughter walked at 9...er, 8 months old. My son too. (points to younger boy).

Me: Oh really.

Braggedy Ann: Yes, 8 months. Walking. Both of my children started walking at 8 months old.

Me: I see.

Not that I asked, by the way...

My son, having lost interest in the conversation days ago, left to play with something else. I just smiled and took off after him.

A little while later, Braggedy Ann's boy bolted for the parking lot when someone opened the door to leave. I happened to be standing right outside at the time. Luckily, I was there to catch and release him back to his "Smug-mmy".

That is, when she eventually realized he had taken off without her...

Hmm, maybe it's not so great when they learn how to walk...no, RUN away so early, is it?

photo by tobasari1

No, we are not still friends.

In college I dated a boy that used to tell people that he wanted to become a writer. The problem with this statement is people don't say that they want to become writers. They write. He did not write.

This among many, many, many other reasons were proof that we did NOT belong together.

After our break-up, we attempted to be friends for a while, but had too much baggage for that. Short of a few unfortunate "drunk dials", we eventually lost touch.

Since then, we've both gotten married (not to one another) and have had children (not with one another), but that is where our parallel lives diverge.

As far as I know, his life hasn't progressed much since I left him. Although we met in college, I graduated. He did not.

Despite swearing that he never would, upon dropping out, he moved back to the small town where he grew up to live with his parents. He took a job as a cashier at the local corporate retail giant. In fact, that is where he met his wife and I believe that they both still work there to this day.

I won't lie. The validation that, "Yes, I was sooooo right to dump him" was completely unnecessary, yet so indulgent and satisfying at the same time!!!

I know all this and more about him thanks to MySpace...That is until he made his profile "private".

Argh! I don't want to be his friend, not even a "MySpace friend"...

Great! Now where am I to go when I need to feel superior?

photo by Rosalina Y. Yoshida

Cookies are bad for you

Earlier this week, a good friend and fellow blogger over at Are Things Complicated Yet? gave me a copy of "Cookie" magazine over lunch. I promptly went home and devoured every page of it as my son took his afternoon nap...

For those who have never experienced this fine publication, "Cookie" is basically written for the people that never wanted children, but somehow found themselves with one or two anyway...

It's filled with pages upon pages of beautiful ads for designer baby clothes, lavish nursery furnishings, and posh baby gear that I could never afford and articles dealing with problems I would never have.

For instance, here are some articles from the March/April 2007 issue...

One mom's (angry) rant... er, plea to families to STOP LISTING ALL OF THEIR KIDS' NAMES ON THE OUTGOING MESSAGE ON THEIR ANSWERING MACHINE. Apparently, that annoys some people...

Another mom writes about her dilemma with conflicting parenting styles between their two homes... Nope, she is not referring to divorced co-parenting. She is actually worried about how she should parent while in their summer home in Maine, where the livin' is easy, versus their place in Manhattan, which sounds like a pretty neuritic place based on this article...

Oh no, what is a mom to do?

Last, but not least. Sure to be favorite among its target audience. A completely pointless article devoted the perils of modern-day feminism and how being a SAMH is an upheaval of all that our mothers worked towards...

Here is an actual quote cited in the article:

"Your own career is an investment you make in yourself,"..."one that will pay dividends throughout your life. Some benefits are financial, some are intellectual or creative.... If you devote your life to supporting your husband's career, those dividends belong to him—as does the career itself." ([The writer] reminds her readers often that marriages, promises that they are, can easily be broken.)

followed by...

"If your husband divorces you or drops dead, was it really such a great idea to stay home if you can't afford to buy groceries for your kids?"

Ummm, okay? If you can afford to clothe your daughter in that $340 get up (including a $150 cultured pearl necklace) on page 187, I can guarentee you're not going to worry about paying for groceries....

That very same day I was flipping through this magazine, my "problems" entailed finding my son's shoes ("I spy the left one. Now, where did he hide the other one..."), getting the smeared avocado out of his hair, and teaching him how to get off the sofa feet first, not head first...

How funny that I didn't have the time to worry about how I was setting back feminism to the 1950s or the outgoing message on our machine...

For the record, I don't even remember the last time I even checked our phone messages.

Although I refuse to actually pay for it, "Cookie" doesn't necessarily lack merit. Afterall I wouldn't bother to read my FREE copy if there weren't a few useful tidbits. Every issue has at least one smart solution-anything from how to "prepare your last will and testament" to "planning a budget family beach getaway", but I mostly read it for the entertainment value.

Okay, time to search for where my son hid the diaper cream... Oh well, I'll have to consider that summer house another time.

Ciao!