25 More Things

it's been over five years since the original revelation of 25 things.  WOW does time fly.  but after this, you will know me twice as well.

1.  i learned to walk in high heels from a glamour magazine 8 years ago.  the trick is to walk on your toes and point them out.  once you do this nearly every day for a few years, you get the hang of it and heels actually become comfortable.

2.  i am a proud and shameless emotional eater.  there are just some tasks that cannot be undertaken without an appropriate amount of chunky monkey under your belt.  i cannot properly set someone in his place on 164 calories of orange and pepper and lettuce juice.  that shit requires LUNCH.  preferably tacos carmelos with avocado and fresh pico de gallo from the verde lea.  (see how emotional i am getting just talking about lunch?)

3.  my signature look is "too much eyeshadow" in any of a variety of glittery colors.

4.  although i gave up baking some time ago (and blame it on the altitude even though i don't technically qualify for high altitude instructions...), my mom did teach me how to make gravy from scratch with no lumps.  this is ironic because my mom is also not known for her culinary arts.  nevertheless, i am glad to be able to contribute something worthwhile to thanksgiving celebrations.  and the same butter-flour-milk technique also makes a fantastic cheese sauce!

5.  i am especially gifted at identifying roadkill.

6.  when i grow up, i want to be a back-up dancer.

7.  i get why hashtags are annoying -- i really do -- but they're so funny i just can't stop.  it's like a whole world of sarcasm that never existed before.  at any given moment, i have a running list of ridiculous ones in my head to be used on the very next photograph my sister posts.  it adds a whole new dimension to the one millionth picture of her painting the interior of her house.  #lesbiansofinstagram #likeaboss #redbeansandricedidmissher #yousabigfinewomanwontyoubackthatthangup #yolobitches

8.  my favorite tv show of all time is futurama.  if you are experiencing a noteworty event, please feel free to consult me for the corresponding futurama episode and life lesson to be learned from fictional aliens/robots/delivery boys listening to the poorly-preserved remains of the beastie boys kickin' it 1000 years in the future.

9.  i have an advanced degree and a successful career, but the biggest accomplishment

of my life thus far is getting my two toddlers to take a nap at the same time.  i know other people who do this too, but those people seem so much more together than me.

10.  i have a favorite spice blend.  it's called cavender's greek seasoning, you can get it at the grocery store, and it's good on EVERYTHING.

11.  i have a second favorite spice blend: herbs de provence, also good on everything.

12.  i am a silverware snob.  i like to eat with good thick heavy silverware, and will dig shamelessly through your silverware drawer to find the most hulking fork available.

13.  i was once high-fived by a stranger after performing a particularly tight parallel parking job.  i brag about it frequently.

14.  i save those extra buttons that come in a little tiny plastic bag attached to new shirts, coats, etc.  i have a whole little drawer of them.  to the best of my recollection, i have never taken a button out of that drawer, for any reason.  (as a result, i still have that one that says "sometimes i like to run around in my underwear for no reason.")

15.  i have zero opinion about whether or not 9/11 might have been a government conspiracy, but i am ANGRY at the candy company conspiracy to change all the candy previously-known-as lime to sour apple flavored.  skittles and sweettarts have been ruined.

16.  i hate drinking out of a straw.  the exception is slurpees and milkshakes, which just aren't the same off of  a spoon and give you a face full of grief if you try to tip over the cup.

17.  the first thing i notice about you is your hands.  then i judge you based on what i see.  and if they're unnaturally small, i am creeped out and we are probably not friends.

18.  i spent a summer in russia when i was in college.  my first memory is looking out the window of my bedroom at a dumpster that said "i hate white people" across the side of it.  i'm happy for the experience, but i cried with happiness when the guy who stamped me back into the US of A said "welcome home."

19.  when i hear about middle schoolers having sex and doing drugs, i'm blown away.  when i was in 7th grade, my friends and i organized a coup against our english teacher, mrs. love, who we most certainly did not love.  we got almost the entire class to stand outside in the hallway until after the bell rang, and arrived tardy en masse.  now that is living life.

20.  i get close-to-vomiting dizzy on the swing set and the merry-go-round.  i ride them with my kids anyway.

21.  my favorite book is jurassic park and i re-read it every year.  while you teeny-boppers are arguing over vampires and werewolves, i continue my eternal internal debate between rugged archaeologist alan grant and the gloomy intellectual mathematician ian malcolm.  *swoon*

22.  i don't do basements.  i flat-out refuse to enter the basement at my office and still run up the stairs at my mom's house before anything can grab me and drag me back down.

23.  i once had the life goal of genetically engineering a polar bear small enough that i could keep it for a pet.  my mom, always the cheerleader, gave me a little tiny one out of her mcdonald's happy meal 15 years ago, that i still have.  (now that i've said it out loud, you know you want one!)

notably, in contrast, at this moment i have zero-point-zero life goals....

24.  i have been using the same plaid flannel pillow on my bed since august of 2000.  my mom bought it for me from kmart when i moved into my freshman dorm because we forgot to pack one -- and ta-da, it now has sentimental value and i will never get rid of it, ever.

25.  my favorite kind of cake is a bundt cake.  for those of you who don't know, that's a shape of cake.  *shrug*

I Am Neither A Hypocrite, Nor A Weakling

right now, i'm sitting on the couch thinking about alice and wonderland, and specifically the grouchy caterpillar on the mushroom blowing smoke rings (and smoke ABCs) asking alice whooooo ... arrrrre ... yooooou?  big thanks to my BFF in all the land for bringing the question to the front of my mind (and if you haven't checked out her thoughts on the topic, i cannot recommend it enough -- just have a dictionary and some aspirin handy because she makes me look tame in words, thought and action.)  and also for reminding me that we are 31 and should be old enough to answer this question.... yeesh.

yet, i feel like i had a better sense of self when we were 17, lifeguarding at the local water park for our summer job, collecting waterlogged quarters from the slides to fund our midnight snacks, and getting stood up by drug dealers before we both shipped off to college.  because back then, my life was mine.  now i am a slave to bills, laundry (oh so much laundry), work, the diamonds on my finger and tiny tugging toddler hands.

in an attempt to define myself, i turned to the online meyers-brigg personality test, where i am a fairly emphatic ESTJ.  according to the internet, this means i would be a good librarian, and i am least likely to develop a DSM-IV personality disorder -- lending further support to the omniscience of the internet, as i feel like those two statements are mutually exclusive.

E is for extroverted.  since the test i took is visual, i am estimating that i am about 8 times more extroverted than introverted.  as far as i can tell, this means that i am greatly effected by inertia -- things in motion tend to stay in motion or they lose interest and motivation.  things at rest tend to fall asleep in 30 seconds or less and wake up disheveled and disoriented hours later, ravenous and having forgotten their life goals and purpose.  i don't mind being alone, but the bills, laundry, work, diamonds and toddlers will be tossed aside for a closet alphabetized by color, a perfectly glittered pedicure, and some sort of marshmallow masterpiece with no measurable nutritional value.

S stands for sensing.  importantly, i have zero-point-zero (0.0) iNtuition.  if it's not right in front of my face, it's not actually happening.  

i tend to generally agree with this assessment, but (1) it does little to explain my fascination with UFOs and crop circles.  (as an aside, i have a pretty sweet husband.  whenever i see a suspicious object in the sky and ask whether he thinks it might be a UFO, he spends an appropriate amount of time looking, examining, asking follow-up questions, and considering the question before saying "no, that's an airplane."  thanks, honey.) 

and (2) it does not address my horrible superstitions and fanatical belief in karma.  yes jackie, i still pick up my feet, say "peanut butter," and kiss the ceiling when i go through a yellow light or over railroad tracks.  i make a wish at 11:11.  i knock on tons and tons of wood, every day.  i believe the rhythm is gonna get ya, and act accordingly.

apparently my intuition is limited to coincidences and fictional worlds that exist only in romantic comedies and sci-fi novels.

T stands for thinking.  i did have an acceptable level of "feeling."  while i consider myself to be extremely rational (like the good little economist i am), i understand that the concept relates directly to subjective internal factors.  what makes perfect sense to me -- based on my status, education and experience -- goes over another person's head who is weighing different factors in their own cost-benefit analysis.  so, this level of "feeling" is really just an extension of how completely rational i am thankyouverymuch.

J is for judging, rather than perceiving.  i am about twice as judgmental as i am perceptive, and i can't say it better than heidi did:  so know this, friends and acquaintances, i don't just see you, i judge you.  even if you put a stupid meme on your facebook page that says "do not judge me." in an attempt to protect yourself.  i cannot be stopped....  according to the meyers-briggs asshole index, you do not have a relationship with an ESTJ, you have a deal.  my family would concur that i'm a bossy, inflexible, insufferable know-it-all.

i am in an impressive company of women (if by impressive i mean bossy, inflexible and insufferable ... and wildly successful and productive) -- famous ESTJs include judge judy (reminding me that i was voted the coveted "most likely to become a TV judge" award my final year of law school), sandra day o'connor, nancy grace, hillary clinton, condoleezza rice, michelle obama, bette davis, joan rivers ... and princess leia.  good to know someone has the time to analyze the personality types of fictional characters, and may i please have that job?

i am also in the company of saddam hussein (to whom the title credits go) and a man i actually truly admire: fidel castro.  now there is a tough, idealistic, unyielding, ballsy SOB.  i get the theoretical appeal of communism, and have to hand it to fidel for giving it a hell of a shot over the course of fifty years.  to the detriment of the cuban economy and impoverishment and starvation of the cuban people, but no matter.  a revolution is not a bed of roses.

and drum roll please ... my same-birthday-meyers-brigg-twin: marion hugh "sugar bear / suge" knight -- founder and CEO of death row records and real life west coast gangsta, who was once arrested for domestic violence for cutting off his girlfriend's ponytail in the street.  first, who remembers to bring their shears into the street during a domestic dispute?  and second, oh no you didn't! *insert sassy finger wave*  i respect your dedication and take-no-prisoners attitude, sir.  you are neither a hypocrite, nor a weakling.  i propose that "money over bitches" will be the theme of our joint 32nd/49th birthday party which will take place on or around april 19.  here's a throwback to our last gettogether, ca. 2005.

the diamond-ring shot glasses will surely get a second life after caitlin's bachelorette party.

with all of this thought and analysis, i got a quick history lesson, but am right back to my original concern ... there is no time for reflection when i can never...  stop...  moving...

arbeit macht frei, friends.

heaven is not a place of idleness

{ESTJ evangelical phenomenon, billy graham}

Fuck You, I'm Juicing

so i just came off my second juice fast in the last few months, and i know everyone is dying to hear the unfiltered version -- literally.  i can't remember why i thought this was a good idea, but i made the mistake of mentioning it to tosca, and then i was locked in by the peer pressure.

i immediately devoured the entire internet plus a few free ebook's worth of information regarding the so-posh-juice-fast-trend.  thankfully, the literature is pretty consistent and so i didn't have to make a lot of decisions (for which i have no basis or concept or context) about what to believe.  now all my loyal fans can benefit from this synopsis.

spring cleaning:  the idea is that you give your body a break from all the energy it spends on digestion, while inundating it with nutrients and enzymes and colors.  and then your body takes that extra energy to do some spring cleaning and healing that otherwise gets pushed aside for more urgent matters, i.e. #2.   i read that three days of juicing is good for you, but then i also read that it takes 4 days to stop digesting (the first 3 days are spent digesting leftovers in the digestive track -- ew -- and the fourth day you live off of something in your liver).  therefore, you don't really get the full benefits until day 5.  then you get 3 days of full-on cleanse.

based on this explanation, i decided on the 7-day fast, and began the countdown.

fuck you, i'm juicing.  i also read about people who do 30 and 100 day juice fasts.  and according to my glamour magazine, it is appropriate to tell someone to f-off if they invite you out to a steakhouse during your juice fast.  zealots.  don't get crazy overboard and rude, people, over your weird alternative lifestyle choice and lack of self-control.

chewing it up and spitting it out:  again, after extensive research, i am pleased to share in one sentence or less: when choosing a juicer, you get what you pay for.  the more expensive juicer will extract more juice and be easier to clean (making it more likely to be used).  there are two types -- (1) a centrifugal juicer which chops up your veggies into tiny pieces and whirls the juice out, and (2) a masticating juicer, which basically chews up your veggies and pees out the juice.  i feel like #2 is the obvious winner.  i settled on the omega J8004 -- after all, it is an entire nutrition center!! ... announced in my best infomercial advertisement voice) -- and have been pleased.

basically, i drank just water and homemade/fresh juice for a week.  there is no specific menu, but you're supposed to shoot for  80% vegetables and 20% fruits (errr how do you measure that?), with at least four 16-ounce juices per day, and 16 ounces of water before and after each juice.  if you're thirsty, drink juice.  if you're hungry, drink juice.  easy peasy, right?

here are my thoughts:

i don't have time for this:  i bet i spent 10 hours in the two days between deciding to juice and when my juicer came in the mail just talking about juicing.  plus, have you seen this shopping list?  (btw, this shopping list is great to give you an idea of what you'll need to get started.)  i'm juicing for two, so that means i need 40 cucumbers.  40.  forty.  4-0.  do they even have 40 cucumbers at safeway?  then i spent more time plotting how to get to the grocery store before tosca, so she didn't buy up all the cucumbers, leaving none for me!

then there is the cleaning, the cutting, the coring (juicing an apple seed will release the cyanide), the smashing things into the juicer and the actual chugging of juice.

i also spent a fair amount of time warning everyone i knew to avoid me at all costs for seven days...

and then:  what am i going to do with all this time?  you know, all the time i usually spend between 8:01 a.m. and 11:38 a.m. trying to decide what to eat for lunch...  i ran a lot of errands on my "lunch" break, made a (small temporary) dent in the mountain of laundry, and billed 9000 extra hours that week.

juicing is fun!  more specifically, the actual making of juice is fun.  the juicer has a little chute you get to shove your veggies in, and you can actually hear it "chewing" the food, then see it peeing out the juice into one cup and excreting the carrot crumbs into another.  (and they are literally dried up tasteless crumbs!)

i was so excited the first time, i took a picture!  even a few months later, i still like this part :)

if it sounds like a bad idea, juice it anyway.  i admit i was skeptical of juicing things like celery and bell peppers, ginger, garlic, parsley, cilantro, lettuce and sweet potato ... pretty much everything i've never seen on the outside of a juice box.  they all turned out OK (lots of times, REALLY GOOD!) and/or are easy to hide under something else.  surprisingly, it's the cucumber that i like least.

in the case of onion though ... mistake.  even if your recipe calls for it, it's a mistake.  don't juice an onion.  ever.

#1.  and #2.  by day 2 at 8 AM, i'd peed no less than 8 times, possibly more, since i went to bed the night before.  and i'm not talking trickle-pees -- these were all-out racehorse-pees.  fluuuuuuush.

when day 3 rolled around, it wasn't exactly "fun," but it was nice to know that when anything was passing through, it was just a bunch of old yucky leftovers that have been hanging out for lord knows how long.  good riddance!

i'm melting, MELTING!  i didn't juice to lose weight and i didn't actually weigh myself at any point during the fast.  i did *feel* skinny despite all the water i was drinking.  i read that it's not a great weight loss strategy because there can be lots of calories in juice -- but you can control this by choosing vegetables over fruits.

be strong, but don't bother being too strong.  after two days of juicing, i had an intense craving for butternut squash soup.  what would i be proving, and to whom, if i skipped that?  i home-made it, without dairy or meat, called it "vegetable broth" and shoveled it right in.

my only real cheating was the day i took my kids to vinny's for lunch and ate a piece of pizza.  i had one piece in lieu of a juice, and still had my 16 ounces of water before and after, stuck with vegetarian and skipped the root beer i'd usually wash it down with.  i feel like it was a good compromise between juicing and actually living life.

and speaking of living life, my kids are officially spoiled.  they also love using the juicer and will ask for *fresh* apple juice....

good thing they're cute.

so now what?  *shrug*  i juiced.  i didn't notice any horrible or miraculous events during the week, although i did live easily without coffee.  all my prior warnings to STAY BACK were unneeded.  i didn't ease myself back into solid foods as recommended, but instead ended the juice fast with a redeye flight to spend the week in a house whose occupant subsists primarily on pop-tarts and hot dogs (love you mom!).  i ate some fast food, a lot of virginia ham and pasta, and a few versions of thanksgiving dinner.  i felt normal and my body worked fine.  my liver did work at maximum efficiency through the holiday season, which was fortunate.

sooooooo in conclusion, i present to you, the +1 effect:  i've seen a lot of reference to the documentary fat, sick and nearly dead as a juicing inspiration.  no, i haven't seen it, and i won't even though it's sitting for free on netflix six feet away at this very moment.  i don't need any propoganda to tell me i eat a lot of oreos and cheesesticks and chocolate croissants from the european cafe.

if anything, i've been inspired by robin quivers and the recent commentary from the howard stern show about her recent book, the veducation of robin.  although she is vegan (RIP cheese!) the take-away from the book is basically this: add one more vegetable to your diet per day.  even that small step can, apparently, have noticeable health benefits.  i call this the +1.  for this reason, i think everyone should juice.

juicing is an easy, easy way to get a +1.  or a +5.  when was the last time you sat down for lunch and an entire head of green leaf lettuce, a cucumber, a pear and a lime?  it's happened exactly zero point zero times in my life.  but it's easy (and fun!) to add in a few servings of fruits and veggies in a juice, especially as an afternoon snack.  this particular version actually tastes just like limeade.

i think i'll do a 7-day fast every 6 months to detox (which is all that is safely recommended) or maybe a 3-day fast every month to keep my innards tidy.  i think it's a good idea, but i don't even think you need to be this extreme to get benefits.  i'll mostly be juicing because it's good.  and so i can continue to eat more cheese-centric and chocolate-centric meals, hopefully without the corresponding expansion of my arteries and behind.

cheers, friends!

p.s. here are a few of my favorite recipes.  i apologize i have not given them any ridiculous cutesy names, so i'll sort them by color:

green:
1 apple
1 or 2 limes
1 cup spinach or lettuce
1 cucumber

brown:
3 oranges
1 red or yellow bell pepper
1 cup spinach

orange:
1 orange or 1 cup pineapple
8 carrots
2 inches ginger root

red:  (somehow this juice is actually salty ... with no salt.  it becomes a nice change to the sweet).
1 beet root
1 orange
2 celery sticks
3 carrots

i also collected quite a few recipes on my pinterest board of the same name, if you're looking for more ideas.  for your own good, please stay away from the one with the onion in it.

2013 Or Bust

well, it's now january 18, 2013, so i may just bust as the year is already 4.9% over.  but first, i will complain.  i hate new year's eve.  i hate countdowns.  i hate staying up late.  i hate nostalgia.

BUT i like new year's day.  i like sales on shiny happy things.  i like eating black-eyed peas for good luck.  i like making lots of silly exaggerated jokes about how this is the best sale and best black-eyed peas i've seen all year!

and i like an excuse to try to be better.  this year:

I WILL live more frugally, more simply, and more naturally.  don't go too overboard on me.  basically, i want to be (more) the type of person who doesn't kill more than she can eat, and who uses the entire buffalo.  first stop -- making my own all-natural cleaner out of vinegar and citrus peels.  FYI you can stop your search here, "clean more" is nowhere to be found on this list.  but when i do clean, I WILL do it with something that my kids can lick off the floor.

i've also already started stockpiling vegetable scraps in the freezer so i can make my own stock.  i WILL have a bouillon-free 2013!  i accept this is probably the lamest new years resolution ever, but i like to cook and i'm thirty.  so whatev.

i'm toying with composting, but am not committed enough to put it in capital letters.  the thought of voluntarily keeping garbage, yard waste, and worms around 2 curious toddlers is a little scary.  especially when you consider the mess that can be made from a mere teaspoon of sticky, purple dimetapp.  nor am i sure what i could do with compost when our sparse vegetation grows happily out of a pile of rocks.

along these lines, I WILL continue to be easily entertained.  and I WILL appreciate the little things.  i am inspired by aaron's appreciation for antiques and rarities.  over the holidays, he was gifted two very simple old bottle openers that he had previously found in a drawer that were made decades ago in philadelphia when it was a huge brewing operation.  before present-opening had concluded, he was already on the internet researching and spewing further obscure facts re their origin and composition.  i haven't seen them since we got home, so i can only assume he hid them somewhere safe that neither the kids or i can tamper with.  later in the weekend, he spent an hour discussing with my mom's husband's sister's husband's sister a  photograph of her father in front of what may or may not have been a model T.  i'm not sure what the outcome was, but A was all-in.  anyway, if you have any old crap that you want to have a good home with someone who appreciates it, will it to my husband, and he will appreciate the hell out of it, and hide it from the rest of us.  (but we still like the weiner's circle and ice cream cones, so there!)

I WILL live more calmly and with less control.  realistically, what do i control anyway?

I WILL massively deplete my wardrobe.  although i fit into everything, i know in my heart of hearts that while i enjoy and benefit from retail therapy, i can easily exist in clemson t-shirts, and clemson t-shirts alone.  and tights and boots.

side note: after wondering wtf "heart of hearts" means, i learned that the phrase was spoken by hamlet to refer to the "heart of my heart," i.e. the center or core of his heart.  this is where hamlet stores rational men who are not slave to passion.  then, when he needs to, he busts them out of his chest like alien to unleash on his foes.  but i digress...

I WILL get more fresh air.  simple and delicious adventure waiting to happen.  i will not get more exercise though.  exercise is boring and contrived and i get all the exercise my exhausted and wasted body can handle chasing panzer full-speed on his bicycle down the sidewalk, holding mohs protectively in a constant arm-lock while he wiggles and giggles and strains to get his jaws on something, and unlocking secret levels of just dance 4.  i may even get one of the 2 brand new pairs of fluorescent running shoes i bought last year out of its box this year.

I WILL write more.  or at least as much as i can.  if nothing else, someday mohs and panzer are going to find this and laugh hysterically or cry miserably at their origins.  just remember, i love you, boys.

I WILL keep up.  in 2012, i did not manage to watch a single clemson football game on the tv.  but i did become the last person on earth to see that asian guy dance gangnam style, read the hunger games (but only book one, and never the movie!), and discover the magic of lipliner.  maybe in 2013, i will finally find out what an "angry bird" is.

I WILL stay true to the things i love.  there's a fine balance between keeping up and hanging in.  fluorescent will likely no longer be in style by the time i break out my new shoes -- but it's unlikely i will outgrow that trend a second time.  red rooster peanut butter cookies.  dancing along to yo-gabba-gabba with my kiddos.  howard stern interviewing politicians and sex symbols alike.  red eye shadow and glitter.  pizza pizza pizza.  debating the relative merits of the above in economic versus psychological theory.  I WILL be there.

Not Selling Any Alibis

today (as in the day i started writing this and probably not the day i finish writing it) is apparently "no judgment day."  better than a hallmark holiday, it is a 24-hour reprieve for hardass moms, created by redbook magazine, to give yourself a break from the daily nervous breakdown that occurs when, for example, you go to pick your kid up from the babysitter and he throws himself on the floor kicking and screaming because he doesn't want to come home with you.  on a side note: i remember a day before popular magazines had the power to arbitrarily create holidays where none before existed?

makes me wonder -- what does the babysitter do that i don't?  oh yeah, she stays at home with my kids all day.

makes me wonder -- am i doing this parenting thing all wrong?  should i be staying with my kids all day?  are my kids screwed because i gave up breastfeeding to go back to work instead of leading them around by the boob until they left for kindergarten?  am i depleting brain cells by playing curious george 2 for the third time in a row today?  should i have given them a bath with real soap instead of letting them jump around in a puddle in the backyard and spraying them off with the hose?

and ... the purpose of no judgment day become apparent.  because if i spend any more time asking myself these questions, and any more time answering them in the affirmative, i'll have to collapse into a blubbering heap of failure and regret.

but friends, here are my confessions.  i am not ashamed.

#1 -- i take full advantage of the fact that panzer will do anything for a fruit snack.  i buy them hundreds of packs at a time at costco, and have at least 3 packages in my purse at all times.  i will pull them out whenever i need 10 seconds of quiet and still.  i will even tell myself what a favor i am doing to him, making sure he gets all that vitamin C.  and gelatoids, or whatever.

and i'm flexible   when the obsession turned to mints, i bought tic-tacs in bulk and commended P on his excellent breath.

#2 -- i let yo-gabba-gabba babysit my kids.  but only sometimes.  i even let panzer believe that DJ lance's name is "butthead," knowing that he is not stupid can pick the real butthead out of a line-up any day.  when i was a kid, you got your mouth washed out with soap for using that kind of language.  also, i let my kids watch yo-gabba-gabba fully realizing that it is simulating a mixed-drug-induced haze/craze.  for all i know, that's what the world looks like to their brains anyway.

#3 -- i will give the kids whatever they want to eat, whenever they ask for it.  eggs and waffles for dinner?  OK.  a bowl full of nuts for breakfast?  fine.  15 glasses of milk today?  probably never hurt anyone.  you just ate three pieces of pizza and an entire pineapple, and now want to stand next to my soup bowl with your mouth open like a baby bird?  in it goes.  i don't even get mad when they eat who-knows-what crumbs off the floor.  (i do tell them it's gross, like when panzer tried to lick the old chewing gum off the sidewalk at the park, but that only invites giggles and increases the desire to eat off the floor.)

lately, panzer has been demanding to eat mohs' smashed baby food zuchinni.  whatever, i make my own and there's more of something else that can be smashed up where that came from.  i mean, kids can't unlearn how to chew and swallow, right?  and if they do, perhaps they just shouldn't be eating anymore...

anyway, when i was growing up, the floor was clean and you ate what was on the table, or nothing.  which brings me to #4.

#4 -- the kids both sit at the same high chair.  (P just pulls up a stool.)  which is the only surface in the house not covered with laundry, bills, bubble canisters, old coffee cups and other assorted things you hope your kids won't touch.  let's face it, there's no table upon which to put a single choice of food.

#5 -- i strap my baby in his swing and put on a movie so i can go back to sleep.  ironic, as when panzer was born, i swore i would never put him in a swing after hearing many horror stories about kids who develop triangular heads from the sway of a baby swing.  but i'd do it again with mohs if he insisted on getting up at 330 AM and wasn't so easy to snuggle back to sleep on the pillow next to me.

#6 --  i take my kids to safeway to look at holiday decorations.  this is where panzer learned about spiders and pumpkins, turkeys, and santa claus and snowmen.  on this point, i truly have good intentions, but usually by the time i realize a holiday is coming up, it's all up on me and i panic with indecision.  thankfully, there is always something we need at the store.

#7 -- i lock myself in the bathroom with the fan on and cover my ears when my kids are crying.  aaron thinks this is childish, cowardly, and unnecessary.  probably so.  but keeps me from running back in scooping them up and ruining that whole rules/discipline/manners thing we agreed to force upon the children.

#8 -- i get angry at my kids.  this was not something i planned to experience in the first couple years, but damn, those little heathens can cause a lot of trouble in a few short minutes!  (and yo-gabba-gabba was supposed to be watching them!)  the battles of will are not my proudest mommy moments, but i will win, especially once you've ticked me off.  thankfully, it's tough to stay mad at a little dude who runs around yelling "sorry mommy! hug!" and pats you on the back like you're his charge instead of the other way around.

#9 -- i cry for my children.  not in front of them and certainly never in front of any of you bitches.  but i'm not strong for them.  i am sniveling mess of worry and panic and indecision.  i get overwhelmed with sadness when people (kids or adults) are short or uncaring or unappreciative of their awesomeness.  at news stories highlighting what a terrible group the human race is comprised of.  when i think of them being grown up-er someday and stressed and tired and on their own with climate change and civil wars and violent religious yahoos with their own kids to worry and panic about.  like me.

#10 -- i ask for help.  a lot.  from anyone -- family, friends, dudes at starbucks, mall security, TSA officers.  pick an occupation -- that person has held at least one of my kids for five seconds while i searched for my driver's license, carried hot coffee to the car, dumped vomit out of my best leather pumps, etc.

and actually, i am largely open to advice.  i'm pretty sure panzer would be potty-trained right now if i had any idea what i was supposed to do.  and also, i am totally open to ignoring your stupid advice, jerk whose baby slept through the night at 3 weeks old.

so friends, i repeat: i am not ashamed.  my kids have fairly good digestion, grow like weeds, smile frequently, and yell "c'mon mommy" or wave fat little arms at me when i walk in the room.  no self-help book can help me with #s 1 through 10.  sorry old lady at the grocery store who never let her kids leave the house without a hat or socks until they turned 7 and can't believe i let P have a cookie from the bakery at 630 AM ... these are my wild, dirty, crazy kids and they are a product of me; you can suck it.