Posts Tagged ‘SAHM’

I need someone to talk to.

Thursday, September 30th, 2010

I think one of the biggest problems of the stay-at-home-mom is the lack of a peer audience. It’s really hard to move through your day, taking in a variety of news and experiences, and not have an outlet for them. Certainly Twitter has helped in that arena — you get 140 characters to say, “What the hell was that I just heard?” — but it’s not the same as being able to turn to someone else and say, “What the hell was that?” and get near-instant feedback and camaraderie.

[Actually, I turn to strangers all the time and make small declarations about stuff. Usually I’ll do this standing in a line {like in Shop-Rite} when we’re both looking at the same trashy News of the World headlines. I find this tactic somewhat unfulfilling, however, since it often results in that startled “why-is-this-crazy-lady-who-may-very-well-still-be-in-her-pajamas-at-10:30-here-at-the-grocery-store” look and a subtle collecting of produce for a move to another checkout aisle. I try not to take it too personally. My pajamas are fine — they could totally be a cute summer outfit.]

At any rate, back to my need for a friend to be with me during my SAHM shift. I don’t have anyone, at least not someone who’s with me for the full 8 hours, so I make little comments in my head and hope to remember them later to share with my husband, other mothers at after-school pickup, or (less appropriately, probably) my 14 year old daughter.

Today, however, I’ll share with you (Hey! Leave your milk and bread where they are. I’m on to you):

From my junk folder on my Hotmail account, I found this: I am Mrs Stella Ethan, a Christian. I have picked you for an inheritance, Everything is available.  Please contact me for more details. It made me laugh out loud. (Thanks to Joann at Laundry Hurts My Feelings for pointing out the delightful bon mots that can be found in the spam folder.)

From the spam folder on this blog site: Why god (sic) allows this sort of thing to continue is a mystery.  Sent from my iPad 4G. There is much about this that intrigues me. What is god (sic) allowing to continue? My site? That seems harsh. I can’t figure out which post it’s attached to, so I’m going to assume it’s about the spanx/Brazilian supermodel post and be inclined to agree. Also — it’s sent from an iPad? I think iPads should be used for good, not spam.

By all accounts, Michael Bolton’s foray into ballroom dance on DWTS was a mess. And having been criticized for the judges on his debacle and subsequently booted off,  Mr. Bolton has taken to the media to cry that he was mistreated. He wants an apology. Insert comment about apologizing for his career, for the When a Man Loves a Woman remake, for his hair, for…C’mon man. Get a clue.

When I grow up I’m going to invent a silent dental drill. I will win the Nobel Peace Prize for this, not to mention the respect of dental professionals everywhere (although, considering their mental state this may not be such a coup).

The masons working on my house are from Poland so, obviously, they converse in Polish on the job. When they talk to each other, it sounds kinda mean. I’m stressed just listening to them. I’m told they’re not yelling, but it sure sounds that way. Having studied Russian (a relative of Polish) for a million years, this never occurred to me. Perhaps this explains the slavic affect — grumpy and mean — because they’re being pseudo-yelled at all day long.

Will the children eventually notice if I start throwing out the socks I find lying around on the first floor? I will certainly feel better in the short term, but how will this come back to bite me later? I need someone to do a risks/benefits analysis for me.

Tony Curtis died this week, Eddie Fisher died last week. All you over-75’s in SAG better get your affairs in order. One of you is next.

With regard to the above, these are two good examples of taking better care of yourself while you are young. Both = ridden hard and put away wet.

Hot air balloons are common around here in the spring, summer and fall. They are lovely to look at. But actually go up in one? No thanks. Stuff like this happens: American Balloonists Missing During Race. Honestly. If God intended us to float around in balloons, I’d be a lot less dense (I mean, physically. What did you infer?).

The last sign of the Apocalypse was just brought to my attention, and so I’m going to wrap this up and make sure there aren’t too many expired cans of Spaghetti-O’s in my basement bomb shelter. Some Einstein in the Publishing World has given Snooki the go-ahead to write a novel. OH MY SWEET CHEESES (thank you Phil from Modern Family. My new favorite expression). There are so many fantastic writers clamoring for book deals, and someone intends to slaughter trees and digital bytes to put this woman’s “work” Out There?

Gotta go. Must pick up water at Shop-Rite. I’m not even going to change: flip-flops and pajama pants are fine for this — it’s an emergency. And you can be sure I’ll be chatting up my fellow Line-rs at checkout. Startled looks be damned.

In my zeal to get this out, I neglected to note it’s a Word Up, Yo! post. Join the fun…

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After 14 years, do you get a company tchotchke*?

Thursday, September 23rd, 2010
*tchotchke: –noun (slang). An inexpensive souvenir, trinket, or ornament.

This job’s got a lot of perks. Oh sure, the obvious ones like the love and devotion of a delightful family; the satisfaction of knowing, when you put your head down at night, that they’ve all survived yet another day of being {14} or {11} or {10} or {8} or {41} or { }…; or even that you’ve got pretty good job security, which is lucky these days for sure.

But specifically? This SAHM gig’s got a lot of aspects to it that are appealing no matter where you work:

10.) Flexibility: Should I grocery shop today or tomorrow? Do we have enough milk to get us through the next breakfast without resorting to apple juice on Cheerios? What about toilet paper? (Certainly the boys think this is optional, but the rest of us might be in need. Quick! A Roll Census.) I get to decide.

9.) Creative expression: What should I make for school lunches — PB&J again? Or get crazy with tuna salad? What about a little wrap dealio, with some sliced leftover chicken? (Do the kids cry over my meals at school too?) And then there’s dinner. Ah, dinner.

8.) Dress code: clothing optional at the bus stop (and by this I mean, PJ’s are fine {keep your pants on, literally}). Even better when combined with a hoodie and some Uggs, provided your pajama bottoms are shorts, and not full-out long flannel pants (then you look like maybe you’re going to the farm stand and not the bus stop). As for the rest of the day….vary your outfit whenever possible. The folks at Shop-Rite are beginning to wonder.

7.) Break times: you can/must take them liberally. Make sure to catch what Rachel Ray’s cooking up (might get some of the gang sobbing later one), see what Hoda and Kathie Lee are drinking this morning (literally, it would seem), what the women on The View are arguing about, what Victor’s up to on Y&R, if Sonny and Brenda have gotten their collective act together (but ooooh, love me some Jason), and who’s on with Oprah.

6) See the world: or at least the delightful 6 mile radius around your home. To the store! Home again! To school! Home again! To school! Home again! To the store (turns out the toilet paper didn’t last)! Home again! To school! (Depending on the day, do this trip approximately 6 times.)

5) Meet new people! Probably at the bus stop while in your shorts and Uggs. Or better yet, at school, when your teacher introduces herself to you and makes small talk about what an interesting vocabulary your youngest has. Did she mean that in a good way?

4) Supervise others: Beg the construction guys to help you figure out why no stone match can be found for exterior of your house. (Never mind that it wasn’t covered in moon rocks or plutonium, but regular old everyday rock.) Confirm again that no one will accidentally unplug the sump pump, leading to alarming beeps overnight that wake the house and set the kids on edge.

3) Finance: Stretch your cash as far as it will go. Discover you  have exactly $2 in your wallet when called upon to pay for another piano book for your child’s lesson. And no checkbook. Debate about returning to the car to scrounge for quarters.

2) Foreign languages: Enjoy learning new languages along with your children as you drill on Spanish vocabulary cards. Follow along in some unnamed language as you wait for the gas station attendant to finish his call before pumping your gas (it’s NJ people — I don’t/can’t pump my own).

1) Sociology/psychology/counseling: Become a human snuggie or punching bag, depending on who gets off the bus and in what mood (also dependent, for some of us, on the performance of the 401k or the stock market in general). Be prepared to welcome them with open arms and a big smile or, conversely, arms crossed and a matching scowl. Tickling is sometimes a welcomed activity, but so too is the old “leave me alone,” technique.

This was prompted by Mama Kat over at Mama’s Losin’ It. Need Inspiration? Check her out!
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