We've Moved! As of 1/1/07 find us at www.whitetrashmom.com. Visit us!

Photoshop Makeover - Before/After Retouch Of Model

2006-12-20T02:13:00.000-08:00

Read this WT Sisters (and Brothers) if you think that models in ads and magazines are "real". Think again. This ad from Dove and their Campaign for Real Beauty does a great job of revealing how photos of models and celebrities are unrealistically modified. This is on You Tube. Watch this for :30 seconds. You will be amazed. Go here for the link or paste in the url below into your browser. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aHLpRxAmCrw Good job to Dove for this campaign. I am glad to see it. Basically, normal women compare themselves to a standard of unrealistic beauty...that comes from Photoshop.

Hostess Twinkie Truffles

2006-12-17T09:55:00.001-08:00

Hostess Twinkie Truffles A recipe for Hostess Twinkie Truffles for a holiday dessert! Here is the wonderfully WT recipe using Hostess Twinkies. Tacky Princess and her holiday baking have inspired me to give you another WT holiday recipe. As we all know, the Hostess line of food products is a white trash kitchen staple. For this reason, I am giving all you WT cooks out there another use for the ever popular TWINKIE. Click the link and enjoy!

Size 12 is Too Big

2006-12-06T18:29:00.000-08:00

Here's an example of the insane standards of "beauty". Top picture is the beauty contestant that is "too large" and the BOTTOM picture is the model that was considered to be ideal. This story is a true story from the DAILY MAIL, in Great Britain. Link to this story by clicking on today's title, Size 12 is Too Big. Here's a quick overview for you:

Poured into a gold swimsuit, Make Me A Supermodel winner Jen Hunter looks as if this outfit was custom-made for her.

But the one-piece triggered a furious row about stick-thin models when her rival finalist Marianne Berglund appeared painfully underweight in the same attire.

Jen Hunter, age 24, is a contestant on a British Reality TV show. She's a healthy size 12 and was reduced to tears by judges, who gave her harsh words because she "wasn't taking the exercise and diet program seriously". Can you believe this! If this isn't just a snapshot of how sick and twisted things are....I don't know what is. Talk to me people.

Daily+Mail Jen+Hunter Size+12 Make+Me+A+Supermodel

Welcome to My Trailer Park

2006-12-04T07:24:00.000-08:00

Dear WTMs, Sometimes when I write about my white trash life, you might think I am kidding. However, if you look at the snow fort that was left in my front yard----this is the view from the street----you can clearly see that the only thing missing from this picture is the car on the cinder blocks. This is what remains of the front yard snow fort on Monday AM. My girls and neighbors built this fort AND a backyard fort over the weekend. The snow was wet and perfect, they had a blast. Here are two more pics of the fort. http://www.flickr.com/photos/whitetrashmom/ I did not see this masterpiece until Sunday, as it's in the front yard, east side. It's not that our yard is so huge---I am just lazy and didn't go over there. I asked the girls about it and they said that "Dad said we could leave it up". I was horrified for about 10 seconds (what would the neighbors think). Then I remembered the words of my very wise husband: Memories are the most important gifts we can give our girls. My husband is so good at this and has created so many good memories, especially at the holidays for the girls. He is so wise at knowing when it's right to let the "rules" relax and when to stick to them. I am more laid back with the kids overall. But he is the genius that knows when to let them make a mess, helps them make the mess and LOVES to encourage them to do stuff will make awesome memories for the rest of their lives. It is this reason that he really is a better parent than me, although I would never admit this fact to him. During the holiday season, the man puts me to shame, honest to God. I tend to look at the snow and the fact that my good glasses are left outside and I start to get peeved (I know who is going to help them clean it up). But Tim reminds me that especially at holidays, we need to "make the memory". He reminds me that the girls aren't with us all that long and that once they get older, they won't want to do these things. He instantly helps me realize how precious these times are and to let the rules go. I know today's post is so very sappy but I wanted to explain just how wonderful my husband is and I knew you WTMs would get a kick out of the scene in my front yard. Happy Monday!

Ah, the Snow Day

2006-12-02T07:32:00.000-08:00

Ah, the Snow Day. The kids are outside romping in the beautiful white snow. Me inside baking ginger cookies and sipping hot chocolate, watching fondly from the frost-covered windows. Wishing it could go on like this forever. AS IF!!!!!!!!!!!! That would be the Lisa from PB Kids scenario. You know the one where everyone and everything looks, smells and acts perfect all the time? Here's the real deal... TP: Why don't you go play in the snow? It's beautiful and perfect for sledding. Thing 1: I don't have any snow pants. TP: That's no problem. Just put some extra layers on. That's what we always did. Thing 2: And I don't have any good gloves for snow. Mine are too small. TP: No problem. You can borrow mine. Thing 2: Uh, Mom. Your hands are like a giant's compared to mine. TP: No problem. Just stuff some Kleenex in the ends. That'll keep you even warmer. (smiling...) Thing 1: And I need a shower (this, as if a sudden epiphany...). TP: No problem. You can take it afterward. That makes more sense anyway. Thing 2: But I don't have any friends in the neighborhood. TP: No problem. You have a built-in friend right here. Your sister. (smiling...) Thing1: Mom, it's like, totally freezing out. TP: No problem. That's what your new coat is for. It's got that cool Thermo-nuclear-insulate-layer to keep you toasty warm, remember?! Thing 2: And my boots don't fit. TP: No problem. You can wear your sister's old ones. They should be just right by now. (smiling...) Thing 1: I don't have any snow pants. OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm going to have to beat them. Seriously. Call Social Services. I can't be held responsible for my own actions any longer. The smile is creasing my face and causing me serious pain. My face might just crack. Pass me the Senor Patron, Queen. It's my turn... So, I finally manage to shove them out the door after about an hour of tussle. (No, I'm not kidding...) I sit down at the computer to get a little work done, thinking maybe some of my day can be billable after all. NINE minutes tick by on the clock. The back door flies open. Thing 1: (Covered in snow) I have to go to the bathroom. (Of course, you do. You are Thing 1, and that is your M.O.) She proceeds to strip off the 14 layers of clothing that took her one hour to put on...and heads to the bathroom, which is all of 6 feet away. Thing 2: (Shrieking into house, directly followed by dog, who is quite literally covered in huge globs of snow. Dog is grinning from ear to ear...) Oh my gosh, it is, like, so, like freezing out there. It could, like, freeze your nose, like, right off your face. This from the child who has on her lightest weight winter coat, no scarf or hat and the pair of makeshift gloves her child-abusing mother made her wear. Her hightop's are soaked, and she collapses onto the mudroom floor, as if she has just run a marathon in the snow. Thing 2: I'm done. It's, like, way too cold. Yep. That's it. 9 minutes of respite for over an hour of hellish preparation. Thing 1: (coming out of the bathroom) What are you doing? Thing 2: I'm done. It's, like, colder than the arctic out there. Thing 1: Yeah. I don't have any snow pants anyway.

HBO "Thin" -Real Life is More Painful

2006-11-27T16:52:00.000-08:00

Over the Thanksgiving holiday I saw some pals from college. One of my friends lives far away and I get to see her about once a year. My friend had bulimia in college----and still fights that battle, twenty years later. Call me shallow but when I was in college, it was not that big of a deal to be anorexic or bulimic. Nearly everyone I knew was on diet, a lot of people had done the "scarf and barf" method of weight loss prior. WT Campers---I am not saying it was right, I am just telling you the way it WAS. At the sorority ( "Delta Delta Delta-Can I Help You Help You Help You") the bathroom by our chapter room was for "Scarf and Barf". It was widely known and accepted that the chapter room restroom was pretty much just for the sisters that barfed up their food. Insert dorm or sorority---it was pretty common everywhere. There is a point here. The point is that the weight/thin issue has been on my mind a lot lately.

I have an almost 13-year-old girl who is not "concentration camp" thin----and I have trouble finding her clothes!
I have an 8 year old that can wear a size SMALL---for Women's t-shirts!

The documentary that is on HBO has brought a lot of this to the forefront and gotten people talking. But when I saw my friend from college...I just have to tell you that it just HURTS ME TO SEE HER STRUGGLE WITH IT STILL. My friend is accomplished. She has a beautiful family. She is a wonderful giving person. If she could only see herself how others see her...she would realize that she's beautiful inside and out. I know she is still struggling with bulimia (even though she tells me she's fine, tells others she is "over it") I can tell BY HER TEETH. Her teeth are discolored and it is one of the telling signs of someone that is throwing up alot. I know that her obsession and illness is going to take her from this world earlier than she should go. Throwing up on a consistent basis is not healthy and this will do her body harm in ways that have not shown up yet. You can't do that kind of damage to the body without harm. I know this is a rant but I am just so sad. I wish things were different. I wish something could be done so that so many women did not feel the pressure to be perfect, thin. Does anyone have any ideas, thoughts, opinions? Help me try to come up with some positive ways to combat this trend. I can't just sit and watch anymore.

HBO+Thin Bulimia Weight+Issues THIN+Documentary

Only a Friend Would Dress Your Kid Like a Hooker

2006-11-26T10:40:00.000-08:00

Only a best friend would dress up your child like a hooker. We spent part of the weekend with some of my best friends-----I've known these friends since I was 5. I am now 43. Do the math and you'll come up with years of dysfunction, fun and laughter. One of these BF's is Godmother to my youngest daughter. These two women and their families are considered family by my kids and it was great to see them. There is only one drawback. My friends have no young girls. One BF has a college age daughter. The other BF has a son in 4th grade. Therefore, it is way fun for them to play dress up with "Miss Minnesota", my 8 year old daughter. Miss Minnesota is now the proud owner of a pair of black high heels with a "peek a boo" toe. She wears them 24/7. She tried to wear them yesterday to 5 o'clock mass. I was so proud. Did any of you experience family fun like this? Spill it sisters.

Pug Bowling

2006-11-24T10:07:00.000-08:00

Pug Bowling is a great time waster! I am a pug owner and pug addict. But this video clip is toooooo funny, even if you are not a pug addict. Go here to see PUG BOWLING. No pugs were harmed in the making of this clip. Watch entire thing----it's worth it. pug+bowling, pug, animals, dogs, funny, you tube

Like I Have Time For That...

2006-11-17T09:55:00.000-08:00

PB's ideas for the kids before the Thanksgiving meals are a completely foreign idea to me. The idea that the person who is preparing a two-legged beast, mashy pote's, stuffing and pumpkin pie for 23 people to nosh on has even the slightest bit of EXTRA time on HER hands (c'mon, you and I BOTH know it's the women preparing these feasts...) is so funny that I forgot to play the laugh track. I spent nearly all of my day off yesterday baking 6 pies. I spent most of the rest of the day pondering how I would be handling preparing the remainder of the meal in addition to the dessert - THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF ANY MEAL, IN MY HUMBLE WTM OPINION. Fortunately, I am not the illustrious hostess - this year. My side of the family's celebration is THIS weekend... and while I am no Martha Stewart, I CAN cook AND bake, in spite of my WTM status (which, I obviously wear proudly). However, as I find myself with a miserable cold at the moment, I am moving at the pace of a 78 year old tortoise. It's not pretty. I complete a small task and then have to take a little break - or, worse yet, a nap. It's pretty pathetic. Anyway, a CRAFT for the little kids to work on while the hostess is finishing preparing the meal? So they can slime the table with glue? So they can whine that their turkey doesn't look like the one in the pretty picture in the magazine? So they can pull on my apron strings to ask for help and make me liable to do things that will garner me a visit from Family Services? Thank you, NOOOOOO! Who are these people kidding? What planet are they living on? Maybe they live in the UK, where they don't celebrate Thanksgiving...or, maybe, as the Queen of WT herself has suggested in the past, they have a slew of robot-like servant types who cater to their every whim. Wake up, and sniff the craft glue, PB. Get a dose of reality. And while you're at it, check the turkey to see if that little red thingey has popped out yet, will ya'?.

Pottery Barn versus Reality-Thanksgiving Craft

2006-11-16T15:55:00.000-08:00

Dear WTMs, I journey once again into my love/hate relationship with Pottery Barn. Today's "PB vs Reality Moment" is Pottery Barn Kids Thanksgiving Craft. Per the "PBK" website, those zany folks want you to spice up your kid's holiday table with homemade centerpieces! According to "PBK" it helps the children feel involved and gives them something to do! I can't imagine a more stressful way to kick off the holiday than to give children glue and scissors before the meal. White Trash Mom has some questions for the peeps at Pottery Barn Kids regarding the nifty craft idea:

Who is going to take little Tommy to the ER after Molly pokes him with the scissors?

If they kids want to be involved, why not involve them in cleaning the guest bathroom before company arrives? Guest bath is currently a Barbie pool so taking the naked Barbies out of the sink would be nice.

If kids want something to do, why not have them help Mom and Dad with the Thanksgiving meal? Or at least get Uncle Bob a beer from the frig while he watches the football game?

Glue before a meal? If they eat the glue, they won't eat their dinner.

What do you suggest when the newly created centerpiece becomes a football?

My nephew thought it would be funny to make the turkey anatomically correct. Would you like to take a photo of his centerpiece for next year's catalog?

Do you have any other completely insane suggestions from LALA land?

If you want to read more about the "PBK" craft idea, please click on today's blog entry title. If you can't tell, I think a craft centerpiece created before the meal sounds like a slice of HELL. Please tell me what you think. Am I negative? Wrong? Anyone? Bueller?

White Trash Mom Holiday Shortcut #1

2006-11-15T10:05:00.000-08:00

Design Mom has given us a shortcut to having the kids make holiday cards. Design Mom's tip is right here. Besides saving us time and effort, Design Mom has given us another tool in our WTM war with the "Muffia"! Can you imagine how upset the muffia moms will be when you, the WTM, send out your Christmas cards with awesome kid artwork? It just puts me in a holiday mood!

Spam Burrito for Pesky Relatives

2006-11-14T07:56:00.000-08:00

Dear WTMs, Are you dreading the holidays more than usual this year? Are you stuck with unwanted house guests (your 2nd cousins, your senile uncle and his 3rd wife)? White Trash Mom has the answer! Make sure these annoying family members don't stay at YOUR HOUSE next year! How, you ask? It's simple. Feed them really BAD food. You don't have to be mean or make your home a pigpen---just have two or three days of really bad chow and they'll be sure to call your SISTER next year! One excellent recipe to drive away the free loading relatives is....the popular Spam Breakfast Burrito. YUM! More recipes coming as we count down to Thanksgiving...WT style!


                          SPAM BREAKFAST BURRITOS
 
Recipe By     :
Serving Size  : 6    Preparation Time :0:00
Categories    : Main Dish                        Breakfast

  Amount  Measure       Ingredient -- Preparation Method
--------  ------------  --------------------------------
   1       cn           SPAM Luncheon Meat, cubed
                        -(12 oz)
   4                    Eggs
   2       tb           Milk
   1       tb           Butter or margarine
   6                    Flour tortillas (6")
   1       c            Shredded Cheddar cheese,
                        -divided
   1       c            Shredded Monterey Jack
                        -cheese, divided
                        CHI-CHI's Salsa to Taco
                        -Sauce

  Heat oven to 400'F. In bowl, beat together SPAM, eggs,
  and milk. Melt butter in large skillet; add egg
  mixture. Cook, stirring, to desired doneness. Fill
  each tortilla with SPAM mixture and half of cheeses.
  Roll burrito; place seam side down on 12x8" baking
  dish. Sprinkle remaining cheese over top of burritos.
  Bake 5-10 minutes of until cheese is melted. Serve
  with salsa.

Pottery Barn Versus Reality During the Holidays

2006-11-13T15:02:00.000-08:00

Dear WTMs, I pick on Pottery Barn. I especially pick on PotteryBarnKids. I am a hypocrite that I rant about PB & "PBK" since I also covet their products. There is a point here. The point, dear WT Readers is that while I want their stuff and I am a card carrying member of the PB customer club, PotteryBarn and Pottery Barn Kids represent the retail side of the PERFECTION MYTH. The big lie. You know what I am talking about. The lie that all of us modern women got spoon fed during the "women's lib" years...that you can "have it all" AND that you can have it all while you:

make buckets of money
are concentration camp THIN
bake homemade bread
design craft projects for your kids
speak Mandarin Chinese fluently
romp like a sex kitten with your man

I don't blame Pottery Barn for the big lie. However, I would like to point out the following Pottery Barn Versus Reality Holiday Moment. Today's "PB vs Reality Moment" is the picture of the PBK perfect Thanksgiving table for the kids. Picture from PBK shows the children laughing and playing at the festive and fun decorated table for the children (all the perfect adults are in the other room, with Norman Rockwell). It's perfect, it's wonderful...it's a complete and insane fantasy. Here is why it's a fantasy:

None of the children are picking their noses
The children are not squabbling
All kids have clean, non stained clothing
None of the older kids are trying to sample Uncle Jack's "toddy"
There is no dog nearby getting fed under the table
No children are whining
No one is sick (there is always a sick one, every holiday)
And finally---the plates and utensils actually match.

Anyone? Bueller? What am I missing? Chime in! thanksgiving PotteryBarn whitetrashmom

Center for the Prevention of Shopping Cart Abuse

2006-11-13T06:41:00.000-08:00

Dear WTMs, Mondays stink. Here is a really stupid website that might bring a smile to your Monday. Center for the Prevention of Shopping Cart Abuse.

Watch Out Pet Food Pranksters!

2006-11-11T09:35:00.000-08:00

Dear WTMs, Read in the news about a guy that sued for $2.7 million because someone tricked him and served him dog food as a prank. While I am not trying to take away from this man's situation (sounded like more than just a prank), this $2.7 million dollar verdict strikes FEAR into my WT heart because of all of the MEOW MIX incidents that I have masterminded and been a part of over the years. Confession time. It's pretty clear I am a little immature since I named my blog White Trash Mom. But what you don't know is that I have, on many occasions, tricked people into eating MEOW MIX by mixing it with CHEX mix...As a JOKE, a prank, a lark. Starting in childhood, we would regularly do this to my older brother and his friends. Fast forward to college and adult life----this practice continued even into my late 30's! I had a client that I worked with for many years, that was almost as immature as I was. Therefore, we would regularly prank eat other, with the "Meow Mix-Chex Mix" as one of my standards. This means that NOT counting my brother (due to the sister-brother NO SUE clause) that I could be sued by a number of my brother's friends, various sorority sisters, friends and even my former client. Clearly I need to start raising my legal fund NOW. Are there any other PET FOOD PRANKSTERS out there? Confess now and let's help each other raise money for legal aid.

Dysfunctional Family Letter Generator

2006-11-09T09:09:00.002-08:00

Dear WTMs, I know it's far too early for WTMs to be thinking about holiday cards. However, I found this on DIGG----The Dysfunctional Family Letter Generator. An excellent way to waste time and laugh. And not too far from the truth---am I right? Enjoy my sisters in WT! Go here to waste time!

Trust but Verify-Kid Sick Days

2006-11-06T09:57:00.000-08:00

Dear WTMs, As I have mentioned before, the idea of "Trust but Verify" is a big part of my parenting philosophy. The phrase "Trust but Verify" was used by The Gipper, President Ronald Reagan, when talking about the evil Red empire of the Soviet Union. President Reagan said that he TRUSTED them...But he did not trust blindly. He checked up on them. I find this phrase helpful in parenting. As a youngest child of the family, I was able to weasel out of many things. As a former "weasel" child, I am a natural skeptic when it comes to sick days for my kids. My younger daughter is home sick today. She was up and down last night with an upset stomach and a bad headache. Gave her kid Tylenol and let her sleep on the couch downstairs. However, this AM, I tried to "break" her. Sure, she said she was sick----but I applied just a little pressure to the situation to see if it was a scam. Naturally, we lost the thermometer (again) so I could not check the fever. Dig if you will, my version of "Trust but Verify": "Trust but Verify" Sick Day Treatment: WTM: So...You're sick today? You don't feel any better this morning? Miss Minnesota/Margarita: Yup. WTM: You know if you miss school today, you can't go to SusieQ's house Tuesday for that playdate? (Please note: I am not that harsh---this is a ploy to see just how sick she is) Miss Minnesota/Margarita: I know, I don't care. WTM: And you know you are going to have to stay in your room most of the day, no TV. (Note: As if! Again, this is a tool to get the truth) Miss Minnesota/Margarita: Yup. Usually by the second or third question, the girls will either "break" and confess that they are not that sick OR if they don't, I can see that they really ARE sick. This ends the interrogation. What do you guys do to determine "sick day health"? Would love some tips from other WTMs. They are smaller and younger and smarter than us.

Duct Tape as a Babysitter?

2006-11-06T08:34:00.000-08:00

Dear WTMs, Another story about a great American mother.

Quizlaw brought a news story to my attention. Quizlaw is a great blog, if you don't read it.

The story-There was a recent Florida incident where a mom used DUCT TAPE her kids together while she went to work. Another case study for mothers that should not have kids. Luckily, neighbors heard the crying children and called the police. You can read the story of this mother of the year by clicking on today's title "Duct Tape Babysitting".

The incident is scary and horrid enough...but my peeps at Quizlaw (always twisted) began offering the QUIZ LAW BRAND BABYSITTING TAPE.

I am not laughing at child abuse. But the "duct tape as a babysitter" is so wrong...and so stupid that it is a ripe subject for dark humor. Anyone? Bueller? And is it me or do more of these incidents seem to happen in Florida?

The Mommy Blog-Melinda Roberts

2006-11-02T12:40:00.000-08:00

Dear WTMs, One of our own is a published book author! Melinda Roberts, who writes THE MOMMY BLOG, has a new book out! Book is called MOMMY CONFIDENTIAL: Adventures from the Wonderbelly of Motherhood. Melinda was really helpful when I decided I wanted to write a "WTM" book. You can read more about the book, go to an online store to purchase it HERE. The last email I got from her, she said that AMAZON.com was going to start selling MOMMY CONFIDENTIAL in November. I just wanted to do a post about my friend as I think it's great. Check out the book and her blog!

New Fun Friends at the New School!

2006-11-02T12:30:00.000-08:00

Dear WTMs, Are you with me on the magnet? I have some excellent news from my daughter's new school. She is doing great, making friends and is very happy. Let's chalk one up for the home team. I have even found some potential mom friends that I think I could hang with! It's not like that is a priority in picking a school but it does help to have some buddies so that I can get the lay of the land at the new school AND it's just nice to have friends. I don't dare say it...don't dare hope...but I think they could even be...WHITE TRASH MOMs. I don't want to get all psyched up yet. It's still early and I am still pretending that I am relatively normal. CLEARLY have not spilled the beans on the WTM blog yet. Will keep you updated.

Catholic Holy Day-All Saints Day

2006-11-01T07:17:00.000-08:00

Dear WTMs, I am Catholic and today is a Holy Day (All Saints Day). In my own WT way, I am being a good Catholic by sharing with you a recent Catholic joke I received from one of my best friends. You Catholics will enjoy this one: SITTING BEHIND A COUPLE OF NUNS AT A Detroit Red Wing Hockey GAME (WHOSE HABITS PARTIALLY BLOCKED THEIR VIEW), THREE MEN DECIDED TO BADGER THE NUNS IN AN EFFORT TO GET THEM TO MOVE. IN A VERY LOUD VOICE, THE FIRST GUY SAID, "I THINK I'M GOING TO MOVE TO UTAH , THERE ARE ONLY 100 NUNS LIVING THERE." THE SECOND GUY SPOKE UP AND SAID, "I WANT TO GO TO MONTANA , THERE ARE ONLY 5O NUNS LIVING THERE." THE THIRD GUY SAID, "I WANT TO GO TO IDAHO , THERE ARE ONLY 25 NUNS LIVING THERE." ONE OF THE NUNS TURNED AROUND, LOOKED AT THE MEN, AND IN A VERY SWEET, CALM VOICE SAID, "WHY DON'T YOU GO TO HELL . THERE AREN'T ANY NUNS THERE." Those of you who had any contact with nuns during your school years KNOW just how true to life this joke is. Clearly those Red Wings fans were NOT Catholic! Happy All Saints Day.

Pink Flamingo Crisis

2006-10-31T14:42:00.000-08:00

Happy Halloween. Or Happy HELL-O-WEEN as I like to say. Only a few more hours until our kids will be high on so much pure sugar they will take a week to "detox". WTMs, there is a WT crisis going on that you may or may not be aware of. I am talking about...the Pink Flamingo crisis.

On this day of Halloween, we all need to take a moment and reflect on the closing of the company that produced the ORIGINAL plastic pink flamingo. The pink flamingo, a WT cultural icon beloved by shallow and tacky Americans everywhere...is on it's way to extinction. I don't need to tell my WT readers what a serious matter this is.

Here is the story about the pink flamingo crisis, from one of my favorite websites, IMPROBABLE.com.

Read the info at Improbable.com but to sumarize: Union Products Inc., the original manufacturer of the plastic pink flamingo, will close its doors by Nov. 1, according to the company’s president.

It's a dark day in WT America my friends. Pop open a cold one right now in your trailer and remember the good times.

Muffy's Daughter Needs Physical Therapy

2006-10-24T21:18:00.000-07:00

I'm such a clutz that I recently fell off a piece of exercise equipment. I think I was so proud of myself for actually making it to the gym that I got too big for my britches (if that isn't a play on words...), forgot what I was doing, and fell. The result, much to my dismay, was that I had to get some physical therapy on my ankle. Well, the last time I needed any of that was over 15 years ago after a car wreck. Man, those places have changed. They're kind of glitzy! So, it's my first visit, I'm standing at the counter, waiting to be acknowledged after having signed the obligatory sheet of paper. And in walk a mother / daughter combo, the likes of which I haven't seen since the 1970's. I kid you not. It was like something out of a time capsule. (Can you say Dallas? Dynasty? Knots Landing?) Mom's makeup is so thick that it makes my face hurt just looking at it. And I swear that 9-year-old had on blush, mascara and lip gloss. EE-oooh. She had obviously come straight from school, as she had her backpack, it was the middle of a weekday afternoon, and she was talking about what happened at school that day. What transpired next made my toes curl. The mom, let's just call her Mary Kayte... She brushes right past me - all five foot two of her. I swear, I thought she was going to step right on my bare, flip-flopped toes with those spike heels. Then, I really would have needed therapy...So, she brushes past me and proceeds to start in on the receptionist, for whom I have been patiently waiting. "Excuuuuuse may." (thick Southern drawl) "Ashley Carter is here for her appointment with Gary." (flashes me a perfect-toothed bleached til-they’re-painful white smile) "Hah...how're yeeou?" "I'll be right with you in a moment, Mrs. Carter..." (Mary Kayte purses her lips at the mere thought of waiting even a moment...) Feeling invisible, I continue to stand there, patiently awaiting some sort of direction. My appointment was to have begun 8 minutes ago, but I figure it looks like a busy place, the phone has been ringing incessantly, so it may be a little while longer. "Excuuuuuse may...Aysh-ley's appoh-eent-munt with Mr. Gay-ree was s'post-to start three minutes ago. Ahh don't hay-uv all day, yeuuw knoooow." "Mrs. Carter, we'll be with you just as soon as we can, ma'am."(Mary Kayte looks down at her insanely long - not to mention thick - nails and clucks her tongue.) Turning to me...and this was classic..."Way-ull would you look at thay-ut? Ahh just got these duhn today, and ahhl-ready thay-ur gittin' all scuffed up! Ask me, that's the sahn of a bay-ud manny." Affecting mock horror, I smile sympathetically. (Come on, what else can you do?)"What's a girl to do?!" "Ahh know!" Then, she turns back to the receptionist, who has, by then, fielded about 20 phone calls. "May-uhm. Is it almost Aysh-ley's turn? She's got cheer in anoth-uh ow-uh and a hay-uff." (Receptionist turns to me and gives a most apologetic look...then back to Mary Kayte) "Yes, Mrs. Carter, Lee is ready for Ashley now." Mary Kayte's head snaps up, her nails grow about another half an inch, and sparks fly out of her eyes. After the head-spinning ceases... "Ex-cuuuuse me. Did you say Lee? Ahh specifically asked for Mr. Gay-ree. Aysh-ley hay-uhs to hay-uhv Gay-ree." (crosses her arms, rests them on her bejeweled chest and proceeds to stare the receptionist down) At this point, Ashley hops up from her seat where she's been playing with her Gameboy and does a backbend, thus providing comic relief for me - but not her mama. Then, she does a Russian (think leaping with legs spread eagle in the air). I am almost beside myself. I can hardly suppress the urge to laugh. It's like she's trying to provide a distraction from the scene that she KNOWS her mama is about to create. "Well, Mrs. Carter, we'll have her back on with Gary for next time, but for today, she'll need to see Lee." Mrs. Carter proceeds to throw one – helluva – hissy-fit. I'll dispense with the Southern vernacular to avoid this taking too long to read... "Do you realize that Regionals are in November? " pause "And right after that comes Nationals. And mark my words, she's GOING to be ready." (Pan to Ashley: Back flip. Splits. Winning smile...) "Ashley, settle down...And she can't recover with just anyone. She knows Gary, is comfortable with Gary. Give Lee to someone else, and give Gary to Ashley. Ashley has only a few weeks left to kick this injury's butt, and she gonna do it, too, mark my words, as God is my witness." Receptionist starts to speak, but Mary Kayte has not quite stepped down from the soapbox... "Do you realize that Ashley gets up every morning at 5 am to go practice with her coach for two hours before school? And she's got 4 dance classes per week - not to mention tumbling." Cartwheel...Roundoff. "Ashley, so help me, you are gittin' on my last nerve. I said settle...Period...Now, I'm not going to let some nitwit's scheduling error mess up my little star's shot at Nationals, so just get Gary out here, and let's get on with it!" Splits, arms in the air, wild grin upon her young face. Receptionist, with eyes bugging right out of their sockets, replies with measured words: "Mrs. Carter, Gary called in sick today, so Lee will have to take Ashley this one time, and then we'll be back to normal next week. OK?" "Honestly, you'd think you people could take your jobs more seriously. You're messing with people's lives here...Ashley, come on, Peanut. It's time for your therapy. Go on in. Thank yeeeouu." Flashes those pearly whites, fluffs her sprayed-into-submission bob and marches into the workout area. "Tacky Princess, thank you for your patience, we're ready for you now." OMG.

Dear Abby vs White Trash Mom

2006-10-24T10:43:00.000-07:00

Good Afternoon to all the WTMs:

Today I read DEAR ABBY. Here is one of the letters with her reply. After you read her reply, please read White Trash Mom's reply. I am confident that you guys will agree with me. Read on:

DEAR ABBY: My wife and I are in our early 30s, with a 2-year-old daughter and a baby on the way. Both of our parents live eight to 10 hours away by car, so there is limited exposure to both sets of grandparents.

The problem is my father. Dad is very physically affectionate, even against the will of our daughter. For example, if she walks past him, he'll grab her and squeeze her and kiss her while she struggles to break free. It's all in the spirit of a playful hug, but it bothers my wife and me to hear and see our little daughter say "No!" and struggle to get away while he says things like, "No, I'm not going to let you get away. This is what a granddad does."

My father imposes the same behavior on me, coming up behind me and forcibly hugging me while I cook, wash dishes or some other task. When I say this makes me uncomfortable, he either acts offended or makes fun of me. His aggressive demand for physical affection is becoming an issue with us. But when we say things like, "Let her go" or "Respect her boundaries," my parents make light of the situation. In fact, my mother said on her last visit, "Your daughter HAS no boundaries!"

What can we do to protect ourselves and our kids from my father's aggression without hurting his feelings or starting a fight? -- ANXIOUS DAD IN OHIO

Here is the reply from DEAR ABBY:

DEAR ANXIOUS DAD: Perhaps back in the day when your parents were raising you, children didn't have boundaries, but times and circumstances have changed. Today, parents teach children to assert themselves if someone's touch makes them uncomfortable so they will be less submissive if an adult tries to take advantage of them.

There may not be a way to protect yourselves and your children from your father without "hurting his feelings" or "starting an argument." People as insensitive to the feelings of others as he appears to be are usually hypersensitive when it comes to their own.

Because your father (and mother) refuse to accept YOUR boundaries when you ask him to let your daughter go, recognize that his time with your children should be severely curtailed until they're old enough to fight him off. And the next time he grabs you from behind, don't "suggest" that it makes you uncomfortable; INSIST that he let you go.

DEAR ABBY has been giving good advice for years. I can't say that her advice is not good. However, White Trash Mom, has a little different, a more DIRECT approach communicating with "Anxious Dad" about his creepy dad and mom.

DEAR ANXIOUS DAD: Quit being a wuss! Your dad and mom, while I am sure they don't realize it, are being totally creepy. Okay---I am being NICE when I say that they don't realize it. They probably DO REALIZE it and they don't care! People that say things like "Children Don't HAVE Boundaries" make me break into hives.

I question whether or not you have explored all the "issues" that you have with your dad, if he comes up and GRABS YOU and you don't feel comfortable----and you're a grown man. Think of how bad it makes your little girl feel!

Get a backbone for God's sakes! If it creeps you out-----it has to really upset your daughter! I understand you don't want to create conflict but the creepy parents you have are acting like bullies-----and bullies respond ONLY to force. I understand that things change with generations but they don't respect you or your family. Protect your daughter.

Muffia Headquarters-DISCOVERED!

2006-10-23T16:47:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, I now know the location of "the muffia" headquarters. The evil ones operate at a small, out-of-the-way grocery store and deli, near my favorite liquor store. Read on for details....if you dare. I went to my favorite liquor store today to stock up on my best friend, SENOR PATRON. As I mentioned in the previous post, it's been a MONDAY. I took a proactive approach and decided to go to the liquor store early in the week. Monday, after all, is close to the weekend. If you look at it from a certain point of view. My favorite liquor store is not that close to my house BUT they are nice and most important....they take checks. A key factor when dealing with a WT shopper like me. After writing a sizable check for SENOR PATRON and other "friends", I decide to dash in to a nearby grocery store. It's not my usual grocery...this store is a little smaller, more "exclusive" than the coupon palace that I usually frequent. When I entered the store....my WTM instincts went into high gear. I sensed...DANGER. Despite the fact that I had showered AND groomed today, the muffia immediately knew that someone from the outside, someone NOT from the mothership, had invaded their territory. I even looked a bit "muffy-esqe" today in my pants, shirt and sweater. But all the same, the evil ones knew that I was a WTM. My smart ass smirk and really brown hair "roots" were a dead giveaway. As I quickly walked through the store, grabbing my ding dongs and fruit roll ups, the muffia silently watched me. Unlike most of them, I actually had to be somewhere. So I raced down the aisles, at lighting speed and then I noticed....I swear to GOD I am not kidding...one of the "Queens" was following me. Really. Queen Buffy was by far the loudest of the crew and I knew she was one of the leaders because only a leader could dress that badly! I could hear her from two aisles over discussing the "hellish remodel" that she currently has going on-----and she was wearing a paint spattered shirt(multi-color coordinated) and sweats to prove how DIFFICULT her remodeling was going. Anyway---"QB" followed me, I kid you not, for over two aisles. She started by the frozen foods and was on my ass all the way to the coffee and bread section. As I was in the check line and I could see the door, I decided to get a little SASSY. I spoke directly to the muffia mom and her toddlers in front of me. WTM: Your daughter is really sweet. How old is she? MUFFIA MOM AT CHECKOUT: (Has "deer in the headlights" look on her face, panics and looks around ) Chesterfield is 18 months. Barley is 3 years. WTM: She'll be grown up and living with her boyfriend Steve in his conversion van before you know it. HAVE NICE DAY!

If Shopping is a Disease, I'm Terminal.

2006-10-16T15:44:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Apparently compulsive shopping is more common than anxiety or depression, according to a new study released by doctors at Stanford University. The study says that 1 in 20 adults suffer from an addiction to shopping. There are some medical professionals that want to classify shopping addiction as a true medical disorder----right up there with Bi-Polar Depression! Yippee! Good news for the white trash credit card chargers (like me)! The cherry on the cake of this NEWS story about "shopping addiction" comes from one of the best ever sources for American life, "NEWS OF THE WEIRD".

When Lucille Schenk finally sought help for compulsively buying jewelry, New York psychologist April Lane Benson advised her to have a "conversation" with the jewelry before she made her next purchase, as a way to put some distance between herself and her compulsion. "I would say, ‘You are so beautiful, I can’t live without you; I love the way you sparkle,’" recalled Schenk, 62, in an interview. "The jewelry would say back, ‘You need me. You look pretty when you wear me.’ I would say, ‘I do need you. I can’t possibly think of being without you. But something has to change. I need to stop this. I can’t afford a penny more.’"

There is really nothing to say in response, is there? I have an idea for Ms. Schenk. Next time she has an urge to purchase jewelry, she could just pay ME the money and I COULD TALK TO HER (instead of the jewelry).

White Trash Mom Flunks Out

2006-10-11T04:22:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, If I had to go back to 7th grade and if I had to take 7th grade math-----I would flunk out. Completely. My 7th grader, at her great new school, gets hellacious math homework. I am not only NOT a HELP to my daughter with her 7th grade math homework questions-----my advice actually caused her to miss several questions on a test. I am 43...and I can't do 7th grade math. This should not be a surprise since I totally stink at math and if not for Microsoft Excel® and a calculator...I would pretty much be locked out of a job. But this year, it's not like I can even look up the concept and help her with the problem she's stuck on. Now I look up stuff and I misunderstand it---and I tell her to do it incorrectly. HELP! OMG, I feel so very stupid. I really do. Last night there was some hellish math AND then some science FORMULAS. By her bedtime, I needed a Tylenol PM. My head was pounding. Give me your wisdom, WT sisters and brothers. I need to hear some good news. I need to hear that I am not the only one that would actually flunk 7th grade.

House of Appliance Hell

2006-10-10T05:31:00.000-07:00

Tacky Princess here. Back from the depths. Of family drama. And computer hell. And currently (and always...) living in House of Appliance Hell (hereafter referred to as HAH!). You see, it's not enough that we live in an old house. OK, not ancient. But old enough that it has continual problems, as older homes will have (need a new furnace, need to fix the foundation, need to fix the roof...you get the idea - not cheap stuff.). And we keep up with those, 'cuz' we like to stay warm and safe and dry (and we don't want our neighbors to egg our house...). But Lord, almighty, the appliances...I don't know anyone who has the luck we have with appliances.

In a few shy of 20 years of marriage (child bride), we have managed to blow through:

4 Coffee Makers
4 Toasters (and none of them really worth a damn, including the current model)
4 mini vac's (and that's saying something since we've had outside help with our cleaning for the last 14 years...)
4 Electric mixers
4 can openers
4 microwaves (one actually CAUGHT ON FIRE - that was our signal it needed to be replaced!)
3 Dishwashers (one actually CAUGHT ON FIRE - no that's not a misprint - it, too, caught on fire - different house - different occasion - sparks flying out of dishwasher)
3 Irons
3 Waffle Irons
2 Griddles
Oh! And we can't forget the untold numbers of cordless phones. OMG! I'd be willing to wager that we've gone through a minimum of 14 cordless phones. That's almost one per year. Unbelievable. I continually find myself saying, "I'm sorry, could you hang on while I switch to a different cordless? This is the old one we bought three months ago, and it is just shot." Which is met with, "Oh, yeah, I was going to say: You sound like you're in a can... You keep cutting in and out... Are you calling from the UK? Are you on your cell? You sound like you're in a tunnel...in a vacuum...in a box." You get the picture. Very pleasant. And this on a 3 month old phone.

Generally speaking, we buy name brands, and most of the time, I even do a little research before we buy. After all, when you live in the HAH!, you can never be too cautious. But it doesn't seem to matter. Everything breaks.

There is one exception. Old Faithful. Our washer. From 1892. Uh huh. 1892. It came with our first house. The seller was marrying a sugar daddy, and he already had the best of everything, so she no longer needed her top drawer 1892 Roper. Yep. Roper. Ever heard of it? We hadn't either. We figured it probably wouldn't even make it when we moved it to our second house, but lo and behold, we hooked Old Faithful up, and she started going - full blast. It wasn't until she got to the spin cycle that we noticed something was a little off. Well, that might be a bit of understatement. Let's see. How shall I describe it?

Think back to your days of the pre-college exam. ACT...SAT. Now, remember on the SAT - the verbal section? Come on, dig back. You can do it. Exercise that old gray matter! OK, are you with me? S-T-R-E-T-C-H! OK, Verbal section - Analogies. I know, college was a long time ago. But this is fun, right?! Here we go...

Rock concert is to World War III as Tacky Princess's washer is to a Boeing 737 taking off

Have you wrapped your brain around that one? Are you getting the mental picture? Since we moved over 10 years ago, our washer has sounded like a Boeing 737 taking off outside of our kitchen (where the laundry room is). Now, I'm all for having the laundry on the first floor, but if you heard this washer...

If someone happens to be doing laundry when we have guests over, and the spin cycle comes on...OMG! The alarmed look that comes across their faces. You can tell they are sure that we are under terrorist attack. All conversation must cease. The floor / furniture / windows shake. The CD that's turning might even skip. When the cycle is over, we calmly explain the situation. Our guests give us that "you poor saps" look and politely excuse themselves. Why, you might ask, don't we replace it? Well, it WORKS fine. It's just noisy (and annoying) as hell. There are other ailing appliances in the HAH! that demand our immediate attention (and monies...). So, how can we justify $600 or $800 for another new one unnecessarily?

And when my Big Strong Man is out of town...well...let's just say, it can keep a girl company, if you know what I mean. HA!

You Can't Fix Stupid

2006-10-06T19:29:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Per one of my favorite blogs, CeleBITCHY, an update on Britney's husband, K-Fed: Here’s K-Fed partying it up in Vegas. As D-Listed points out, that stupid custom bling looks like a Pepperidge Farm Chessman cookie. Page Six reports that philandering K-Fed, who is currently partying with random women while his wife tends to their one year-old and newborn baby. The gurus at CeleBITCHY go on to tell us that K-FED will make about $10 million bucks if he and Brit split. I feel the need to write Britney a letter from her mentor, WT Mom. Stay tuned.

Debby and her monkey can't eat at Crackerbarrel

2006-10-06T14:27:00.000-07:00

In September, following complaints of diners, the health department in Springfield, Mo., notified restaurants that Debby Rose's "assistance monkey" could not be permitted to dine with her! The harsh health department officials said that Debby's "assistance monkey" could NOT sit next to her in a high chair at local restaurants,even though Rose said she suffers from a disabling social phobia!

Apparently, Debby's phobia is only helped if she can have "Richard" with her. "Richard", who is a bonnet macaque monkey, is the only reason Debby can go out to Cracker Barrel or whatever other restaurant she chooses. Monkeys are generally permitted under the Americans with Disabilities Act if they perform certain tasks, as capuchin monkeys have been trained to fetch groceries from shelves for wheelchair-using patrons. However, animals that provide only emotional support fall into a gray area, according to a U.S. Justice Department spokesperson quoted by the Springfield News-Leader. [ABC News-AP, 9-16-06]

Two questions: WHY ARE THESE PEOPLE ALWAYS NAMED DEBBY? Why in the name of God did the restaurants allow DEBBY to bring in a flea ridden monkey into their establishments? EW!

Plain Jane Mom

2006-10-05T16:44:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Found another cool blog. PLAIN JANE MOM. Check out her recent entry about the idiot parents that park in front of the fire hydrant at school drop-off.

ANOTHER day where some mom parks in front of the fire hydrant at preschool. Good lord people, don’t you get it? I don’t want my kids on fire. If you want that for your kids, please take care of it on your own time.

And then she gets all mad when I very politely mention that she’s in front of the hydrant. In fact, I’ve gotten quite good at this little spiel because I do it about once a month. And that is just the folks who do this when I happen to be there.

Sigh, can you guess how popular I am at this school?

Get this gal a margarita with my best friend, SENOR PATRON! Go here to check out Plain Jane Mom.

Un-Freakin-believable

2006-10-05T08:24:00.000-07:00

Tacky Princess here. Uh Huh. Remember me? From back in the day? I know. I've been remiss. Life has gotten in the way lately, believe me. School stuff, work stuff, DRAMA, family stuff (oh, brother...), sick people, did I mention DRAMA? So, I finally, sit down to write to you, our loyal readers. And I'm just putting the finishing touches on House of Appliance Hell, when - you guessed it. I tap the switch on the surge protector for our computer with my great big FOOT, thereby inadvertently turning said computer OFF. And had I learned ANYTHING from the last time this happened to me? Or the last time something like this happened to one of our kids? OF COURSE NOT! Far be it from me to SAVE MY WORK!!!! I'm like the 3rd grader whose dog ate his homework. I only wish I could say this was the first time I've lost data. Meanwhile, to make matters worse, the brand new computer that I accidentally switched off, is now no longer functioning. My Big Strong Man is going to be so very pleased with little old me, let me tell you. Now booted off the home computer, whoever said the library was a bad place to use the computer must not have been very motivated... Hence, you will have to wait a little longer for me to completely re-think, re-type, re-enter, re-edit, re-fluff and re-put the finishing touches on the elusive "House of Appliance Hell". Now, lest I continue to RANT, I’ll leave you with this little nugget… Think back to the SAT when you were in high school…are you thinking…are you there? Come on now…dig back…OK, Grammar/Verbal section…are you with me? Now…think analogies. Still with me? I know – pretty lofty stuff for those of us who’ve been out of college for a while now. But you’ve got to exercise the old gray matter now and then, right? OK, here goes…Analogy: Rock concert is to World War III as Tacky Princess’s Washer is to Boeing 737 Ponder that…and I’ll get back to you with my next REAL entry. Cheers!

WTM Blog Updates

2006-10-04T11:13:00.000-07:00

I know just enough web stuff to be dangerous. In my attempts to make the blog more readable, I put the "Official" WTM blogroll on another page. I also have a "HALL OF FAME" (or in the case of those not happy with WTM love...a hall of SHAME). See links to these pages in the sidebar. I also plan to add other pages but I am sure that I will procrastinate so I dare not give details. BTW-does anyone know how to change the COLOR of the font in the SIDEBAR on blogger? I can't do it. If you do, will you please let me know? If you can speak in small words it will help. Thanks and will chat later. Note-If you blog is missing from the "official" blog roll, please know it is operator error and will be back up soon. If it's not back up soon, please let me know. Not that many people consider it an honor to be on WTM's blogroll so if you one of the few, the proud, the brave---let me know!

White Trash Mom Troop Beverly Hills Camp Out Part Two

2006-09-28T02:56:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, The following conversation sums up the Girl Scout camping trip experience. Dig if you will, the picture. It's the morning after the campout. Girls are eating breakfast. I am standing there with my daughter and some of her tent mates. Tent Mate 1-Did you HEAR that screeching animal light night? Tent Mate 2-It was so creepy! Tent Mate 1-I think it was a racoon or something...being attacked. WTM's daughter -No guys----THAT was my mom. SFX-All 12 and 13 year old campers start LAUGHING hysterically. Reason for the "screaminglikeananimalinpain sound"? There was a moth in my tent. It was a big moth! My daughter was a pretty good sport about what a weenie I was, since it created such an entertainment factor for her friends.

White Trash Mom Troop Beverly Hills Camp Out

2006-09-22T04:49:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, This might be the last post you have from me, since I am going camping this weekend with the Girl Scouts. My older girl is a Cadette Scout and now my younger girl, Miss Minnesota/Margarita is a Brownie. I was a troop leader for the Scouts, along with some of my best buddy WTMs, when my older girl was in 1st grade. When I told my husband that I signed up to be a troop leader, his snarky reply was: What are you going to do for an activity? Take them shoe shopping at Nordstroms? Naturally, my husband was, in fact right on target and so my buddies and I gladly gave up our leadership roles to a wonderful woman after just one year of being in charge. She has been the troop leader since. Bottom line is this: I owe her one as she bailed me out (because stuff like Girl Scouts, Cub Scouts is FOR LIFE. It is very hard to find volunteers because it takes up a lot of time). Fast forward, the girls are in 7th grade. Wonderful scout leader calls me the other night. She needs warm bodies to camp out. In a tent. On the ground. With a bunch of pre-teens. White Trash Mom's idea of camping....is staying somewhere with no room service. Lame but true. I say yes. I tell her that I don't know how much practical help I will be-----but I am in. However, being the resourceful leader, she doesn't tell me that my best friend, Senor Patron, cannot come to the camp out until AFTER I commit. The woman is shrewd! However, it is too late to back out, despite the ban on alcohol for adults, so hopefully I will post when I return.

ADDDDDDDD & White Trash Mom

2006-09-20T19:45:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, I am sure it is no surprise that I am a product of the 60's and 70's and I have major "ADD". My career has been spent in advertising, where ADD is kind of a prerequiste for the industry (being child like and hyper makes you a lot of money). Sorry if this is too much information but there is a point here. I will get to it, I promise. So...two years ago when my 12 year old was at the old school where she was getting bullied to a pulp....the school suggested I take the child to a doctor to check for "ADD" since she seemed very "distracted" in class. Naturally, being the obedient mother, I take the child to the doctor to see if she has "ADD". We go to the shrink doctor and she talks to my daughter for a bit and then talks to me. My daughter is fine. She probably has mild ADD but the reason she's "distracted" at school is due to the fact she is getting BULLIED daily. After giving me the lowdown on my daughter, the doctor pauses and says: Have YOU ever been tested for "ADD"? The bottom line of the visit was that my daughter was relatively fine-----however she thought I could benefit from some ADDERALL, the ADD medication! THAT my friends, is the background for the story I am FINALLY telling you today. Whew. So at 43, along with 11 year old boys everywhere, white trash mom takes AdderallXR. It is really a godsend and has helped me be a better person, better wife and better mom by helping me FOCUS more. Okay----but the hardest part of taking the medication is going to the pharmacy to get the refills. What I am about to tell you I SWEAR is a true story. I am not embellishing at all (okay maybe a little). Dig if you will, the picture: White Trash Mom in jeans and clean shirt. At pharmacy waiting for ADD script to be filled. Nice blue haired ladies are chatting with me while we wait. I am nice to them, polite----just like the grandaughter or whatever. The nice old ladies were very sweet and we were having a love fest while we waited for our drugs, talking about Fall Mums. Then the pharmacist calls me over IN A REALLY LOUD VOICE and says: The insurance company will only pay for HALF of your prescription....they said that the drug is supposed to be for kids, not adults. You are taking more than they recommend for a child. The nice blue haired ladies immediately FLEW away from me, over the other side of the pick up counter. It was like I was TED BUNDY or some human form equally as gross! I tell the big mouth pharmacist in a normal voice that the she needs to call my doctor so that the doc can CALL insurance company. I tell the pharmacist I will be back shortly to pick up my "crack" and I slink out of the store....feeling like I did something wrong. I really don't care about the fact that a prescription can help me in my daily life. I am way over that. I just get bummed out that I get treated like a "crack" addict for taking a FDA approved drug that hurts no one and has made my life a better place to live! It is pretty funny, in a sick kind of way, so I had to share.

A Backpack is NOT a Weapon

2006-09-19T14:32:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Please go to one of my favorite songs in order to flashback to my day:

They're Coming to Take Me Away, Ha Ha They're coming to take me away, ha-haaa. They're coming to take me away, ho ho, he he, ha ha, To the funny farm, where life is beautiful all the time And I'll be happy to see those nice young Men in their clean white coats and They're coming to take me away, ha-haaa!

The song listed above (with link included) kind of sums up my day. I know are of you are familiar with the kind of day that STARTS out with the words:

"A BACKPACK IS NOT A WEAPON!"

If you are a mom (or a dad) you've had days like today. It's in the manual. There is no need to relive the day-from-hell. I just wanted to post the appropriate "Song of the Day" with a few choice words, for those that need a reminder why birth control is sometimes a good idea. Dig if you will, sisters in WT, some of the words that ACTUALLY CAME OUT OF MY MOUTH TODAY: "A BACKPACK IS NOT A WEAPON!" "Let's just drive over and talk to Father Kent. You can explain to HIM why you think it is so COOL to do the sign of the cross BACKWARDS" "A BARETTE IS NOT A WEAPON!" "If I had to be either Lindsey Lohan or Britney Spears, I would be neither" "A PUG IS NOT A WEAPON!" I don' t need to go on. Let's just say that Monday happened on Tuesday today at WTM's house. Let's hope Wednesday is more like Friday. Or I better get a Senor Patron IV.

Bad WTM This Week, Good School News

2006-09-15T15:59:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Sorry for the lack of blog posts this week. I found a school for my daughter and am very excited. The good WTM karma and prayers really worked because we found great school that is a perfect mix of structure, technology with a great principal and teaching staff. It's 3 minutes from our house and she can go there for 7th and 8th grade. We are so excited and better still...SHE is so excited. Will be back in snarky form next week with lots of reports from the field. Thanks again my WTMs for all the good stuff that came our way. I know it helped.

Love that Deep Fried Coca Cola!

2006-09-12T14:48:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite new blogs is AGENT BED HEAD . Agent Bedhead has given me inspiration today and I just had to share with the WTMs! Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, America invents something even more...WHITE TRASH. Read AGENT BED HEAD's news from the White Trash front:

There really isn’t anywhere to go from here. Using a lethal combination of American know-how, a perverse imagination, and appallingly poor culinary sensibilities, Abel Gonzalez, Jr. has invented the laser-guided, heat-seeking nuclear stealth missile of junk food—deep-fried Coca-Cola.

Granted, I am no fan of junk food, although I’m pretty live-and-let-live when it comes to other people’s preferences. But this sounds like revolting overkill, like topping off your bowlful of Lucky Charms with a handful of Gummi Worms. On the bright side, if you strapped down Nicole Richie and force-fed her a couple of these monstrosities, she’d probably look like John Travolta as he continues to come to terms with his inner who-knows-what.

Thank you AGENT BED HEAD for finding just another example of why most of America is overweight. Grab a Deep Fried Coke and throw in some pork rinds and some funnel cakes! YUM!

Where Was He Until 10 In the Morning?

2006-09-11T20:39:00.000-07:00

Ah, the teenage years. Filled with so many firsts. First date. First kiss. First love. First time sitting behind the wheel and actually driving the car. First time going to the movies without an adult. First time to go out, stay out all night, not call home, and LIVE TO TELL THE STORY! OK, thank God that wasn't my teenager. But my friend was telling me that one about her son - who is 16 - just the other night. I nearly dropped the phone. Nice family. Seemingly nice kid. She said they knew why he didn't answer his phone when they repeatedly called him all night long, trying to locate him (guess he won't be buying the old GPS tracking device story anymore, now, will he?! - See 6/29/6 post). She said he knew that they wouldn't have approved of what he was doing. OK, so I'm so very lame that I still don't even know what that was. She said that when he finally came home - in BROAD DAYLIGHT - that he said he had never "done it before, would never do it again, and I don't want to talk about it ever again." OK, that right there would have been enough to make me vomit. So, what was "it", WTM's? Here are the things that I think it's safe to rule out:

Doing whipped cream (you know you know what I'm talking about...)
Playing Spin the Bottle.
Making out with his girlfriend, Little Susie (The movie wasn't so hot, it didn't have much of a plot...)
Smoking pot - Let's face it. That's piddly sticks in this day and age, right?
Went cowtipping.
Holding up a convenience store (Call me crazy, but we live in the 'burbs, and the kid just doesn't fit the profile)
Making mad love. (Now, just on GP, you and I both know that teenagers are incapable of making "mad love" - sorry, trying to keep our lovely blog pg). But that aside, again, especially for a boy, I don't think that would warrant the whole mystique of the situation - and certainly, if he said he's "never doing it again" - unless he's decided he did it with the wrong gender!
Went TP'ing. Lord knows, he'll have to do that another dozen times or so to get it out of his system!

SO - what the hell was it? I'm thinking really serious drugs or a major love party (with multiple partners - ewwww!). Either way, I can hardly stand to think about it. My friend sounded almost non-chalant - resigned to that fact that this is what raising teenagers was all about. Lord almighty, it's a fine line, isn't it? On the one hand, you don't want to smother them. On the other, you sure as hell don't want to be the parent who says, "Yes, you can make love to your girlfriend/boyfriend as long as you're safe and you do it under OUR roof."

Call me crazy, but maybe my parents were onto something when they had the "Don't Ask / Don't Tell policy". Oh, don't get me wrong. It wasn't spoken. Nothing official. But I knew they didn't want to know what I was up to any more than I wanted them to. And I was one of the GOOD girls! If that makes me a dinosaur, I guess I'll have to embrace it. Just call me Pebbles - or Betty - or Wilma! Just don't refer to my big strong man as Barney - or Fred - ew.

Super Nanny Marathon

2006-09-11T19:21:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Tonight I am watching the SUPER NANNY marathon that I tivo'ed on Sunday. I don't know if you have watched SUPER NANNY but I L-O-V-E the show. I'm sure SUPER NANNY could do some work in the WTM HH at times, since I am far from the perfect mother. However, some of the mom and dads that SUPER NANNY works with make Britney and K-Fed look like model parents! OMG! Some of the parents are complete and total idiots. REALLY. The idiot parents have kids that "Damien" from THE OMEN would be afraid of! Example: The four year old girl that BITES, HITS, KICKS the mom. When she is trying to get her ready for school. The mom just cries that she "just doesn't know what to do". She doesn't know what to DO?? Here is a hint: If you can't control a 4 year old enough to get dressed, you might as well go and buy the child a conversion van and some pot TODAY. Because in 10 years, that 4 year old will be 14...and living in the conversion van with "Steve" her 24 year old boyfriend. After she dropped out of middle school. EW! Example: The family that can't control a five year old because he runs outside the front door, out into the traffic! The clueless parents just shake their heads because the 5 year old just "doesn't listen". WTM is no SUPER NANNY but I will tell you this: Try opening up a can of WHUPASS and see if that doesn't help. In the words of my wonderful Catholic neighbor, Martha: JESUS, MARY AND JOSEPH! My kids have had their share of tantrums and we're not a model family by any stretch of the imagination. But some of those people on SUPER NANNY should NOT BE ALLOWED to breed! It's so bad...but so very good. That's why I am watching it. Ladies? Anyone? Are you SUPER NANNY fans?

9-11 Tribute

2006-09-11T07:13:00.000-07:00

Thomas Fitzpatrick is the man that I am paying tribute to today. This blog is a part of the 2,996 project. I don't know much about Thomas Fitzpatrick but here is what I do know: He was a husband and a father of a little boy and a little girl when he died. He was 35 years old. He lived with his family in Tuckahoe, New York. Thomas Fitzpatrick was a Bond Salesman Financial Adviser, Sandler O'Neill & Partners. He had to be Irish...Fitzpatrick is a pretty well known Irish name. These words are not enough and this tribute is not what he deserves. I read something recently in the Zero Boss blog . He says it better than I ever could. How can I call forth the people who knew him to give him a proper remembrance? It doesn’t matter who he was or what he did or didn’t do in his short lease on Earth; he deserves this memorial. We all do. After all, it could have easily been me.

And isn’t that the moral of this story? It could have been me. Hell, I used to work across the street from the Towers in Bankers Trust Plaza. Why Karen Helene Schmidt, and not Jay Andrew Allen? No reason. Circumstances sent her one way, and I another. The particulars of our two lives are divergent; our fates, however, are interchangeable. We are all equally conditional creatures. Strip us down to brass tacks, and we all sparkle with the same radiant essence. That my essence is still attached to my body and Karen’s does not is the result of a coin toss, and nothing more. But Karen’s memory means more to me than a sermon on the sins of procrastination and sloth. Thinking of her agonizing over my memory the way I’m agonizing over hers, I feel a vivid connection to the moral core of our species. Through her memorial, I awaken my own humanity.

As for the particulars…no, I don’t know that much detail about Karen Helene Schmidt. Yet. My tribute to her is that I’m posing those questions, and searching for answers.

My tribute is that I care enough to ask.

Have a good day and say a prayer or think a good thought for Thomas Fitzpatrick and his family. Remember.

Morning Poker with Miss Minnesota

2006-09-07T07:30:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, If my youngest daughter, Miss Minnesota (aka Margarita) doesn' t make it in her sales career, she has a great shot for a career as professional poker player. She has the "gift" of the bluff and she perfects this gift every morning as she gets ready for school. WTM: You packed your lunch. MM: Yup. WTM: You've got your homework. MM: (Affirmative grunting sound) WTM: You're ALL ready for school. MM: Um-huh. WTM: You've brushed your teeth. MM: Ohyeasuremom. (Quick answers using multiple words are a red flag) WTM: Let me smell your breath. It is at this point in the morning "fake out" that she utilizes a variety of tactics. I will share with you her "Top Three" responses below: "Know When to Hold 'Em, Know When to Fold 'Em" response (Smiling brightly up her mom) Oh MOM! I was JUST KIDDING! I am doing it right now! "Academy Award" response (Small, half tears in her eyes) ALRIGHT! I haven't done it! I am SORRY! I know I was SO WRONG. "Do You Feel Lucky, Punk?" response (If she is feeling "lucky" that day, she keeps bluffing) Okaymomsurenoproblem. If I have to smell her breath to get my answer, I immediately invoke Mother Law #345. While she is brushing, I stand in the bathroom and lecture her using a combination of the following effective methods: FEAR DIDN'T I TELL YOU ABOUT MY COUSIN? SHE LOST ALL HER TEETH WHEN SHE WAS IN THIRD GRADE! SHE HAS TO EAT PASTE! GUILT WHY? WHY DO YOU LIE TO ME? HAVE I BEEN THAT BAD OF A MOTHER? SCIENCE I GUESS WE NEED TO MAKE A SPECIAL APPOINTMENT WITH THE DENTIST SO HE CAN SHOW YOU JUST HOW EASY IT IS FOR YOUR TEETH TO ROT! Dramatic? Sure. Crazy? A little. But no one ever said making sense or being sane was a part of motherhood. If you start out sane, your sanity is gone after the toddler years.

Fork in the Road

2006-09-04T07:10:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Thank goodness Tacky Princess has been posting good stuff lately because my input has, in a word, sucked. The WTM HH is currently in a crisis involving my oldest daughter. This is the daughter that I have written about that we pulled from her school near the end of her 5th grade year, due to the intense bullying she received from some very mean girls. You can read some background on this subject by going to a post I did about the subject in April 2006. You can also read this post by clicking on the title "FORK IN THE ROAD". My daughter is fine....great in fact. The next school year, after the bullying year, she went to a very small but great school that has allowed her to gain some confidence back and become ALMOST the kid that she used to be. We are very proud of her but there are still scars from that awful year. The school we have her in now is the school she went to last year. It is a great school but it is extremely small. We enrolled her in this school because we really did not know what to do for this year and needed more time to check out our options. At the end of the school year, in the Spring, she wasn't quite ready to leave the smaller school. But she had a great summer and really gained more confidence over the summer. Over the summer she told us that she WANTS to move on. She wants to go a bigger school...which is a very good sign. We have wanted this for her and this is very healthy. Her current school was great for a year but it is quite small and it is montessori based. That kind of learning has been wonderful for her but there are no secondary schools, high schools in our area that are montessori. So what in the hell is the problem? My husband and I are both scared. We have been visiting and checking out schools for her to visit. There is no "perfect" solution. I look around and see kids and I wonder "Will you be nice to her?". I look at the administration and I question whether they are telling me the real story or if they are trying to SELL me on their school. We want so much for her to have a good experience at this next school because she is ready. WTMs, please a prayer or a chant or send some good karma toward my girl and my family. My daughter is such a good kid and she did not deserve what she got from the place she was bullied. We need to have a good experience at this next school. Send some good stuff our way to help our family make the right decision. Thanks and I promise the next post will be full or humor and fun.

Some additional info on the homework question

2006-09-02T12:00:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs,

The homework issue really touched a nerve and I wanted to follow up on TP's rant with some research.

Studies of homework levels have suggested that excessive homework may actually be detrimental to overall academic performance.

Less homework given by teachers would give students the opportunity to have more time to do things on their own such as visiting friends or playing sports, which are essential elements in the development of the child, as well as give students the opportunity to study what they want to learn and not just what that school district or teacher wants them to.

Homework's defenders say it increases students' mental capabilities and organization skills, which are necessary to the success of the person in question later in her or his life. This may not happen if inability to cope with the homework results in the student's coping with life breaking down under the stress, in mental health episodes, or in a need to avoid education altogether after being over-pressured to develop skills irrelevant to the student's interests.

In one recent study, a correlation was shown between students' performance and time spent on homework. Some students notice a direct correlation between the amount of homework they do and the number of questions missed on a test.

In Australia, some teacher's groups have complained that the support for homework in the first three quarters of schooling comes mainly from parents rather than from the academic institutions

Really Just a Rant

2006-09-01T08:38:00.000-07:00

Yes, that's your fair warning. I promise it will be short, but this is really just a rant. The Queen usually gives you the heads up when she needs to whine, so I figured I would, too. Here's my beef. Teachers, we love you so, and I know that you are overworked and underpaid, and yada, yada, yada. AND, I truly appreciate all that you do. But could you pile on any more hours of homework every night? Is ANYONE with me? Whatever happened to time for kids to play outside after school? When your 5th grader comes home from school, takes 20 minutes to have a quick snack and tell you about her day, gets right down to homework, works diligently until dinner - and let's face it, folks, we don't eat until 645 or 7:00 many nights at our house - and THEN, still has to get right back to her homework after we finish dinner...DON'T YOU THINK THAT'S A LITTLE MUCH???? For some reason, every year, the Pollyanna in me thinks that it's going to get better. I've talked to parents from public, parochial and private schools, and we're all saying the same thing. GIVE THE KIDS A BREAK! I'm all for a good education. Don't get me wrong. And you know, my husband and I happen to be blessed with children who have no learning disabilities and who pick things up very easily. S0, if they are having trouble, how about those who are not so fortunate? They need a little time to recharge their batteries - not to mention do chores for their WT moms, for Pete's sake. I mean, I wind up feeling guilty asking my kids to set the table for dinner and take the trash out, let alone changing the oil in the car or cleaning out the refrigerator (hey, someone has to do those things, right?!). They are so overwhelmed, and it's only the second week of school. There's a new book out called The Case Against Homework, in which the authors, Sara Bennett and Nancy Kalish, argue that more homework does not necessarily translate to better educated children. Possibly even the opposite. So, why stress out our children (and their parents, who have to hover over them like beastly taskmasters...)? Here's a brief excerpt:

"For example, most parents (as well as many teachers) would be surprised to hear that there's absolutely no proof that homework helps elementary school pupils learn more or have greater academic success. In fact, as this book will explain, when children are asked to do too much nightly work, just the opposite has been found. And study after study shows that homework is not much more beneficial in middle school either. Even in high school, where there can be benefits, they start to decline as soon as kids are overloaded."

WTM's, are you WITH ME? We have to present a united front on this, and fight back! If the teachers and administration don't hear it from us, do they even know it's a problem? According to the women who wrote the book quoted above, the answer to that is NO! Let's make it a point to be present in our children's lives in this way. Let's not just complain about it in the parking lot and at soccer games. Let's do something to make a difference. OK, that's my rant. I'm climbing down from the soapbox now. I promise my next post I'll be back to the same ol' flippant, snarky little snot you've come to know and love! Cheers for a great holiday weekend!

Is Your Husband an Alien?

2006-08-29T20:15:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, More scientific data from one of my favorite tabloids, Weekly World News. A recent story broke the news that as many as 5 million aliens are living in the United States. "As many as 5 million aliens are living in the United States after taking on human form," says Dr. James Kune, a physicist and former government UFO expert. "My research has determined that the average person has a 50-50 chance of being married to one." Dr. Kune says he has researched human-alien marriages for the past 10 years and uncovered at least 1,000 cases of aliens passing themselves off as humans. One of the most surprising findings in Kune's research is that these alien-human relationships are among Earth's strongest marriages. While the overall divorce rate for U.S. marriages is hovering around 50 percent, almost 90 percent of alien-human marriages last well beyond the so-called 'seven-year itch' that often marks the end of human-to-human marriage. Dr. Kune has several signs that point to your spouse being an alien: Alien husbands love to fix things around the house -- and actually repair what's broken instead of making it worse. "This is obviously a function of their highly developed mechanical and scientific skills," Dr. Kune says. "They usually have every high-tech power tool they can get their hands on, and keep it all compulsively organized." Alien husbands do not use the TV remote to "surf" at lightning speed through channels, but stop at each program to absorb the information before moving on. Alien husbands are energized and stimulated by physical contact with their wife. They often initiate long conversations after a lovemaking session, in order to better understand the experience. Alien husbands will ask for directions when they're lost -- sometimes. "A significant number are just as stubborn about it as human men," Dr. Kune says. "I suspect that a lot of aliens are on this planet only because they couldn't find their way to their planned destination."

Kill Me Now - It's Time for The Fundraiser

2006-08-25T15:54:00.000-07:00

I swear, I can already see the shades being drawn as we leave the house. People cringing as we drive by. Normally friendly folks ducking back into their homes when they see us rounding the corner. That's right. It's FUNDRAISER time. That special time of year when we send our children out to peddle unwanted goods to all of our neighbors. "Hi. I'm Mary Margaret O'Malley, and my school, Most Holy of the Holier Than Thou's, well, we're doing a fundraiser to increase the size of our gym, so we can kick the living daylights out of our opponents again this year in CYO. In order to accomplish this noble mission, we're selling...candy, posters, magazines, popcorn (pauses for an exhausted breath...), trash bags, candles, Entertainment Books, grapefruit, books, doodads, you name it - if you want it - or even if you don't, we'll sell it to you!!!!!" Now, that's the way it comes out when Miss Minnesota or someone of her ilk delivers the speech. Here's how it comes out from the child who loathes the sale and anything to do with it. "Hi, uh, um, you wanna' buy some candy?" Yes, that's the way it sounds when a charmer like my seventh grader delivers the presentation. It's riveting. Now, don't get me wrong. She loves her school, and she wants the new gym just as much as the next dumb jock (don't even get me started...), but we've been through this sale for nine years now. And every year, we participate. Because that's what you do. And every year, we wind up with an ENORMOUS supply of candy/candles/trash bags/magazines/books/grapefruit, etc. to prove it. If we had a bomb shelter, we could store everything down there, and I think we could live pretty nicely just on what we sell (to ourselves, mind you...) to support the school. I am the only salesperson in our family. Everyone else in the family is horrified by the mere prospect of even approaching a neighbor's front porch - even to offer them a plate of cookies - just to be nice. It's out of their comfort zones. So, to ask them to traipse around the neighborhood and swindle unsuspecting people out of their hard-earned greenbacks? Not gonna' happen. Consequently, every year, before my kids have even made it out the door to get one sale, kids from other blocks are already making their way over to OUR block and hitting up our next-door neighbors - and US. I had two boys come by tonight, and I made my daughter (still in school uniform) come to the door with me, so they'd get the drift: "Sorry, no sale here. My kid's selling, too. See?" So, the one boy goes, "Hi, we're from Most Holy of the Holier...Oh...Do you go to Most Holy of the Holier Than Thou's?" (Super sharp, this one...?) Darling Daughter: "Yeah..." Super Seller: "Dang...Well, would you want to buy some anyway?" Tacky Princess: "Well, no, honey. She needs to sell, too." (like that's going to happen...) "But good luck!" You see, these kids were still just young enough to be hugely impressed by the prize offerings and the sales pitch by the marketing company that comes to the school. They get these kids so pumped up that they are absolutely certain that they are going to win a brand new flat screen HDTV for their rooms - not to mention pizza every night for a year. I'm serious. They are so dazzled by the sales pitch that they're like little robots for the cause. And yes, it is a good cause. But I soooooo hate turning my kid into a door-to-door Amway rep. (If you're an Amway rep, I'm sorry....) It's just such a mean way to start off the school year...unless you're Miss Minnesota...and you LIKE selling all this crap. And if that's the case, the neighbors on her block better close the drapes NOW!

Birth of a Saleswoman-WTM Style

2006-08-25T09:41:00.000-07:00

School Fundraiser is going on at my 8 year olds school. As I have mentioned, she is an excellent but sometimes ruthless saleswoman. Her early training has given her an edge. I blame myself for her early training due to the fact that I had to travel one summer all over the U.S. due to a client weekend event promotion. Naturally I took them with me and they became excellent at selling tires to unsuspecting consumers. The CMO of the company wanted to hire them at ages 4 and 8. I blame myself for her early start but she does have the "sales" gene in her due to MY dad. But it's scary----dig if you will, the picture: Miss Minnesota/Margarita on the way to school this AM: Those neighbors just got the house painted AGAIN! Geez, Mom, they have been doing a TON of work to that house. You know, if they can afford all that work, they can sure afford to buy some stuff from ME for my fundraiser! Her comment is scary on a number of levels. Let's examine: 1)Obviously she has heard me talk (or bitch) about how expensive it is to do home improvements. 2)Her "Nosy Bula" nosy neighbor gene has matured and is healthy. I am this way too. Call it curious or call it NOSY---she's got it. 3)Her drive to sell stuff for material reward is quite developed. Again, this streak is from my side of the family. My husband is extremely hardworking but he is not as driven by the almighty dollar. My side of the family goes like this: Dad grew up VERY poor, worked very hard and did well for our family. My siblings and I were the first ones in his family to go to college. My dad was a small business owner and could sell snow to Eskimos. My sales skills pale in comparison BUT I have some of his skills. Miss Minnesota/Margarita could be the best one yet. Scary but once again, it's the mother's fault. God help the neighbors as she desends upon them this weekend!

Drop Kick Me Jesus Through the Goalposts of Life

2006-08-25T05:43:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, The title to today's blog entry is actually the title of a Country and Western song from Bobby Bare. My brother used to SING "Drop Kick Me Jesus Through the Goal Posts of Life" to me to annoy me when I was growing up. Since I was a "C&W" music lover and he was a big brother, he used any and all means necessary to tease me. Now that the explanation is out of the way...I am once again blogging about the brink of the teen years. Today's incident with my "teen-to-be" reminded me of the toddler years...When this child wore nothing but red cowboy boots, a worn out "Lion King" shirt and her pj bottoms. I am not kidding when I tell you she wore NOTHING but the boots/shirt/pj fashion combo...For a month. I have mostly blocked out the toddler years for both my kids but today I had a "flashback" with my daughter. TTB (teen-to-be) is getting ready for school. She puts on a shirt she created for Girl Scout camp. Keep in mind we just went shopping and purchased some nice clothes, some "cool" clothes for her since she spent the summer in tennis shorts and a bathing suit. So she just got new clothes (which SHE even picked out). I mention to her (very nicely) that perhaps she should wear one of her new shirts. You would have thought I locked her in a closet and beat her with wire hangers! She was NOT snotty (thank God) but she seriously looked like I had slapped her. It was like I told her that we changed our minds and were dropping her off at the orphanage today. I quickly changed tactics. I decided that since the camp shirt was clean, covered vital body parts and had no bad words on it----to just let it go. Drop kick me, Jesus through the goal posts of life End over end, neither left nor to right Straight through the heart of them righteous uprights Drop kick me, Jesus through the goal posts of life

Now I Know Why Tigers Eat Their Young

2006-08-24T19:27:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, My 12 year old is becoming a teenager. I know that Tacky Princess recently blogged about how sad she was that her daughter is going to high school. However, my house I am wondering if my older daughter will live to see high school. Of course, I am JOKING and I love my daughter with all my heart, as I always have. But let me just say that the transition into the teen years are not going to pretty at our house. Perhaps I should talk to my doctor about additional medication for me if the last few weeks are any indication. Sure, I would be in a a coma for the early part of her teen years but I would have teeth. The last few weeks have been spent totally GRINDING my teeth as a way of not completely screaming at this child/pre-teen/teenager to be. I remember 7th and 8th grade. Nearly everyone I know pretty much agrees that middle school or junior high pretty much stinks at one time or another. Unless of course you are the early bloomer who is usually also the MEAN girl..In which case you have a great time until 8th grade and then it's downhill from there. So I remember this age and how awkward it can be. I also remember that this is my daughter who got the spunk taken out of her two years ago and is still kind of raw. She is good and we are proud of her but the scars have NOT healed from the effects of the bullying and so she is extra sensitive. So I know all the facts I have just listed. But there are days..... There are days (for example, yesterday) that I just lose it. Dig if you will the picture: I am speaking to the guy that is fixing the new gutters to that NO MORE WATER leaks into our family room. So I am kind of interested in what he has to say. So there I am, speaking to the person that is going to keep our roof from caving in. The girls start to bicker and then one of them starts crying...All over a MOVIE. I thank the roof saver and calmly shut the door before the wrath of the WTM starts. I really cannot believe how quickly I turned into my MOM...Complete with gritted teeth and pointing fingers. It was quite ugly and I really hate it when I am such an uber-bitch mom. I have no guilt over the usual mom nagging but this was nuclear. I had just had it. The girls eyes popped out of their heads (even the 12 year old, who has seen EVERYTHING) and they were quite good the rest of the night and into today. But it really took it out of me! OMG getting that pissed off (it had been building) really drains me. Is raising a teenage girl really stressful or is it me? I need advice, WTMs. I need advice and another Margarita with my new best friend, Senor Patron.

The Beginning of the End...

2006-08-23T10:47:00.000-07:00

Without so much as a glance over her shoulder, my Darling Daughter shot out the door for her first day of high school yesterday. With as much as I had been looking forward to the first day of school for the kids (read "counting down the hours, willing it to happen, checking my watch every 30 seconds, double checking that my alarm was set correctly..."), I hadn't expected the maternal pangs of anxiety that set in on me. My baby's in high school. Geez, that must make ME, uh...ANCIENT! Right before her ride showed up, I remembered our tradition of the annoying picture on the the first day of school. With this being a particularly momentous year and all, I zoomed back to grab the digital and clicked it on before she knew what hit her. Of course, as soon as she realized what I was doing, the groaning commenced. "Are you serious? I'm not three...or even six...I'm in high school, Mom. Wait, they're here. I HAVE to go!" "Just one picture. Come on. For posterity." This was met with a tremendous affected sigh and overly dramatic eyeroll. You know the kind. She doesn't believe the old line about her eyes sticking that way, so I'm toast on that one. The result was a blurred shot of something plaid turning to run out the door. Very nice. Now, don't get me wrong. I enjoyed the solitude of my day. No one to tell to turn down (or off)the television. No one to fix lunch for. - OK, I admit it. I, like the Queen of WT, pretty much leave my girls out in the cold when it comes to playing chef in the summer. We're probably lucky they haven't caught the house on fire! But I digress...No one's internet usage to monitor. Hmmm...yes, the anxiety is waning...now. But yesterday, I was in nostalgia mode. Back in the day, our eldest was fond of giving us little gems like...

"I do not like the pool table - because it does not have ANY pink."
"I am always right. But not Hayleigh. She's wrong - a lot."
"What if we're all just God's big Polly Pocket toy? And he just likes to move us around a lot?"
"How come the President doesn't wear any pink?"
"NOOOO! Mommy, let me take the Band-Aid off myself. 'Cuz' I'm really good with Band-Aids - under socks - with blisters - and not much lights on."
"Yes, we should so name the new baby broccoli." (her least favorite vegetable...)
Giving direction to her younger sister... "NOOOO! Not like that! You're doing it WRONG! Like this. UGHGHGH! Let me do it, then. THIS is how you lick the envelope." - Licks the envelope and seals Grandma's card.
And one of my all-time favorites..."I'm not going to get a big elephant for a pet 'cuz' a BIG elephant would shake the house, and you wouldn't be able to color because you couldn't stay in the lines. So, I'm going to get a baby elephant."

Yes, those were the days. When she was little, sometimes we could hardly shut her up. Yesterday, when she (finally!) got home, I said, "Just a second while I finish what I'm doing. Then, I want to hear all about your day," and walked out of the room. She called out after me, "Well, just so you know, there's hardly anything to tell...!"

When I returned, this is what I got. "We didn't really do anything - just getting to know each other exercises and stuff. And I need to go shopping for more stuff. Can we go after dinner?" This, as she coasted out of the room. Yep. It's the beginning of the end. Or is that a 'glass is half empty' mentality? Just a new phase. But before you know it, she'll be off to college, and I'll REALLY be crying in my coffee!

Best One Liners from "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby"

2006-08-22T15:41:00.000-07:00

Sure it is back to school week and there is alot going on. But a great way to waste time today is to bring all you WTMs some laughs with the best ONE LINERS from "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby"! I have below some of the best one liners. I got the list over at my favorite movie site, PAJIBA.com. Here is the link to the excellent review by Dustin at Pajiba and after the review there are some great comments. I got the one-liners from the comments and have fun! http://www.pajiba.com/talladega-nights-the-ballad-of-ricky-bobby.htm Best One Liners from "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby" "Help me, Jesus! Help me, Tom Cruise! Tom Cruise, use your witchcraft to get the fire off me!" "I can't control my heart rate, I've got a cougar on me!" "Dear Lord Baby Jesus, I want to thank you for this wonderful meal, my two beautiful son's, Walker and Texas Ranger, and my Red-Hot Smokin' Wife, Carley." "Chip, I'm gonna come at you like a spider monkey!" "I hope you both have sons! And they have no legs! Then you can feel my pain, and my hurt!" "DON'T YOU PUT THAT EVIL ON ME RICKY BOBBY" "I'm gonna scissorkick you in the back of the head!" "SHAKE AND BAKE!" "If you ain't first, you're last." "I wanna go fast." "Drive it like you stole it." "If you don't chew Big Red, then f**k you!" "If we wanted wussy kids, we would have named them 'Dr. Quinn' and 'Medicine Woman.'" "Hakuna Matata, Bitches". "Nope, from now on it's, Magic man...and El Diablo." "This sticker is inconvenient and dangerous, but I do like Fig Newtons." "I sent my application in to The Real World, and I'm pretty much putting all of my eggs in to that basket, the MTV basket." "If my MTV career doesn't work out, I was thinking I'd start selling crack. I would be like a laid back crack dealer, though. Nothing too formal. I'd just be like 'Hey boys, how's it going? Want some crack?'"

But We LIKE Being Tall...

2006-08-18T14:52:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been in the sort of situation where another adult is talking to your child in a tone of voice like she's giving motherly advice, only to realize she's a freakin' wack job? This happened to us just yesterday. We were (naturally) buying last-minute uniform shirts from the required store. They were all out of the size I thought my daughter needed, so she had tried on the next size up, which though big, was not ridiculously so. The shirts are 50/50, so they won't be shrinking, and the kids have to keep them tucked in. Plus, she needs to wear this particular style two more years. I figure with a little bit of luck, this may be our last round of red shirts with the logo. Anyway, I came back from discovering that the next size down was, indeed, sold out, only to find the saleslady chatting it up with my daughter. Here's how the convo was going... Darling Daughter: "Well, I think I'd prefer the next smaller size, since this is REALLY huge." (tugging at bulk of shirt to show how roomy it was inside...) Wack Job: How old are you? DD: (visibly blushing, as all adolescent girls do, when asked anything regarding their appearance) 12. WJ: WHOA! Heavens to Betsy, girl! (surveying her general length, loudly sucking in her breath, then letting out a slow whistle and shaking her head) Same thing happened to my daughter. (sees me now standing behind her and appraises my height, as well) Uh, yeah. Trust me. You are not done growing. How tall are you? DD: (smiling uncomfortably) Just over 5'10". WJ: Geezy Pete to Moses! Yup. My daughter's 6'2". Believe me. It gets better, hon'. Uh, did we say anything about strife/sorrow/a tough row to hoe? Stuff a sock in it, lady... (OK, so I wish I'd said that. Instead, I just stood there, giving my daughter what I hoped was a sympathetic look.) WJ: Yeah, trust me. You're growing. I know all about this stuff. My daughter. Geez. The memories. The tears. Phew. Glad that's over with. The boys - well, they're just jealous 'cuz' they just wish they were taller. And the clothes - never could find any to fit. Not to mention the shoes - Zappo. com, by the way. (turning away for a moment) I'll be right with you, folks. (Not to be deterred from her life's work, she zeroes right back in on us...) Sorry. This is really inappropriate (uh, ya' think?). I just try my best to help others out where I can and all. Having gone through this terrible time ourselves and everything. Man, I'm glad those days are gone. But trust me. Really. You'll get through it. Hey, you're a pretty girl. (What - are you throwing her a bone? LWTM (That would be me - Lame White Trash Mom...): When will the smaller size be back in stock? WJ: (incredulous) You're not seriously considering getting her the smaller size? OMG, this lady will not let it go! I could take her, ya' know? I may not be meaty, but I've got muscle! I've got like 5 inches on this woman! Who am I kidding? I AM meaty. And muscle? Maybe not so much. But I'm a WT Mom, protecting her young from a wack job. And I can take her. She's goin' down... WJ: Uh, Ma'am? Are you with me? LWTM: (leaning across the counter and speaking in a slow and measured tone of voice) I'll take these two today, and please hold back three of the smaller size for us when the backordered shipment arrives. And MA'AM? We LIKE being tall. We can always see over everyone at church. We can reach everything on the top shelf at the grocery store. We even help the little old ladies when they can't reach. We never have any trouble seeing over the fatheads at the theatre (ok, I know, that wasn't very gracious, but...). When osteoporosis takes its toll on my ancient old bones some day, I'll still be a respectable 5' 9" tall. We can always find our car in a parking lot. We can find each other in a crowd. And MA'AM? My daughter is so intelligent and so beautiful that it wouldn't matter if she were four and a half feet tall or six and a half feet tall. She will walk proudly to the front of the boardroom some day. That's just who she is. Mouth gaping, Wack Job rang us up and called for the next customer. As I turned around to leave, the lady behind me winked at me. Chalk one up for the WT Moms. I may be a slow starter. But once you wind me up, look out, ladies! :)

White Trash Day of Mouring-The Day the King Died

2006-08-16T08:27:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, I know I don't have to tell you WT fans what today. For those of you that new to the world of WT, today is a day of mouring. Today is the anniversary of the day that THE KING died. August 16th was the day that Elvis, the King of Rock and Roll, died at his home, Graceland. I think it was in 1977 or 1978. Please forgive me for not knowing. I always remember this day because it is also my brother's birthday AND my cousin's birthday. So how does ELVIS affect me, WTM? Because of all the contributions to the culture of WT, of course! Elvis was and is the King of Rock and Roll. I am not kidding about his real and true contributions to music and to pop culture. But if you are a fan of "WT" culture, The King had an even greater impact. Here is a very short list of some of the ways the King impacts our lives, even years after his death: 1. He squeezed himself into the white jumpsuits, despite extra poundage. If you go to any themepark in America, you will see thousands of people squeezing their behinds into spandex shorts that are two sizes too small. 2. He lived in a ranch home that had very bad decorating. Take a look at the McMansions everywhere in America for evidence of the King's impact. 3. He shot out his TV. Except for having to replace it, don't we ALL want to shoot our TV? 4. He started a new industry---think of all the Elvis impersonators that would be out of work had Elvis not lived and died? It would be tragic. 5. Big hair. The hair of the King during the white jumpsuit days was big and had lots of product. I think that says it all. 6. Excess is best. The King super-sized everthing...he at lots of sandwiches, drank lots of booze and took lots of drugs. Modern America is ALL about excess. Too much is not enough. My Catholic guilt is setting in. I really am sad for Elvis and his family at the way he died and the last years of his life. That part I am not kidding about. But you really cannot argue at the impact on our culture (or non-culture, if you read what the rest of the world thinks about America). So, WTMs, think about Elvis today. Make yourself and pb and bananna sandwich, squeeze yourself into some shorts that are too small, crack open a beer or a pop and toast the King. If you click on the title to this entry, you will be taken to a news story about Elvis. Countdown is THREE MORE DAYS until school. If it doesn't start soon, I WILL BE SHOOTING OUT MY TV!

North Woods - Part Deux - You Might Be A Yooper If...

2006-08-15T19:58:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the lengthy hiatus. I think the Queen is right and that I, too, was abducted by aliens. Either that, or my kids were, and the aliens made a mistake and brought them BACK. Personally, I am of the opinion that if they take my children, they should have to KEEP them. Especially at this special time of year when everything they do is so endearing. :) The countdown is on - S minus 5 (school starts in five days!). So, getting back to the North Woods. Thanks to the person who commented about getting the Itch. Yes, it really does exist, and yes, isn't that charming? Nothing like a little goose poop in an otherwise crystal clear lake to enhance your enjoyment of the summer months in the UP. What I'd like to focus on this time is the overall attitude / "climate" of the UP. If you are not from this "neck of the woods", it really is hard to do this justice, but I will try, my WT comrades. Do bear with me. You see, Yoopers are a whole different breed altogether than you and I - and proud of it, I might add.

You just might be a Yooper if... You go to bed in, wake up in, spend the day in, go back to bed in and wake up again in the same clothes. And by golly, those clothes were good enough for the last two days, so why not go for a third? You collect every piece of trash like it's worth a brick of gold. After all, if you send it out with the garbage, it costs you money, since every piece is weighed on pick-up date. If it can burn, melt or smolder, it goes on the fire, baby. You judge a grocery store by the price of kerosene for your lamps. Your snowmobile cost more than your kids' college education. You have the most teeth of anyone in your family, and that's twelve - top and bottom. Your car's "Check Engine" light came on in 1989, but you know that's just a scam to get you to take it in to the dealer, so you just keep adding the EZ Heat and keep on keepin' on. A Pasty refers to nothing of an unseemly nature, and you even salivate at the mere thought of them! Your spandex leggings have worn through the inner thighs, but you figure it's only you, the chipmunks, the mice and the bears out there, so what da heck? A big outing is a trip to St Vinny da Paul's for some "new" clothes and whatever else you might find. Other Yoopers' trash is your treasure!

By the same token, if your clothes match, that's a modern day miracle (read: mistake) and practically an embarrassment to your kind. Striped shirt, plaid pants? You bet! On the other hand, you might be a Lowper or Troll (Can you say Lower Peninsula SNOB?) if... You look down on anyone who lives north of the Bridge (to Mackinac Island) A cabin in the woods is defined as anything with less than 3,000 square feet and only two bathrooms. Roughing it means going without your hair straightener for the weekend. Camping entails taking the Escalade anywhere over 20 miles outside of the city and staying in someone's second home that has a woodburning stove or at least a fireplace. A hike is what you take to find a place to smoke where "the wife" won't catch you. Yoopers. Lowpers. Two different types of people from two different places. A different world. More another day. S Minus 5, ladies. S Minus 5. We just might make it...

How to Know if You've Been Abducted by Aliens

2006-08-15T14:13:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs,

Feeling blue? Tired? Sure, it could be the fact that your kids need to be in school but it could also be aliens. I got a very excellent and highly scientific article through my subscription at KEEP MEDIA. But it was originally written by reporter Nick Jeffery from one of my favorite publications, WEEKLY WORLD NEWS. If you don't read WEEKLY WORLD NEWS ,you really should start. This newspaper is in my WT Hall of Fame.

Here are some of the HIGHLIGHTS of the article for your reading pleasure. Enjoy! MOST people have been abducted by aliens, say some UFO experts -- so odds are you're one of them.

"Extraterrestrials possess the ability to wipe human memory clean," said Dr. J. Albert Longneck, a UFO investigator from Houston, Texas. "You could be kidnapped once or twice a week and you wouldn't remember a thing."

But there are detectable signs that you've been taken aboard a spacecraft and examined, according to Dr. Longneck. Here is a revealing excerpt from his upcoming book Did I Forget I Was Kidnapped By Aliens? •You're drunk a lot -- Aliens take advantage of boozers because they're used to forgetting huge blocks of time and some really embarrassing stuff, said Dr. Longneck. ETs appreciate drunks because they don't have to waste their memory- wiper ammunition, which is expensive. They pick up a lot of people stumbling out of bars.

•You find a lot of puncture marks in your arms and you can't remember injecting yourself -- "These are from routine alien blood tests," said the expert.

•During an X-ray, your doctor discovers you are missing an internal organ you know you were born with -- "A lot of times aliens take out spleens, a lung, a kidney, an appendix so they can examine them closely," explained Dr. Longneck. Despite their advanced intellect, sometimes they simply forget to put them back.

•You cut yourself and your blood is green -- "This is when they've accidentally sucked out too much of your blood and had to give you a blood transfusion from their own blood bank," explained the expert.

•You look in the mirror and see that your nose is suddenly smaller -- "Many extraterrestrials are interested in plastic surgery techniques and will try them out on their captives," said Dr. Longneck.

•You suddenly discover you are missing a limb -- "You know you started out the day with two arms and two legs, and yet, when it's time to go to bed, one is missing," said Dr. Longneck. "This is an indication they have kept one of your

FYI-My favorite part of the article is if you "discover that you are missing limb". Actually if you are a parent, this actually could be kind of a surprise since you never focus on yourself.

Erma Bombeck Guilt Grabbers

2006-08-13T05:06:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Since I have been yelling at my kids so much lately, I thought I would share with you some great "guilt grabbers" from the master of motherhood, Erma Bombeck. These "guilt grabbers" are from her book, MOTHERHOOD, THE SECOND OLDEST PROFESSION. I'm going to send all of that food you left on your plate to all the starving Armenians. Do you want mommy to leave the house and never come back? If you sleep with dogs, you get fleas. You are going to drive me to an early grave. Be glad I'm screaming, when I stop... This is the last time I am going to beg. Just keep playing with matches and you'll wet the bed. That's what you get for not listening. I'm only one person. Happy Sunday, WTMs! Talk to you Monday!

Signs the Kids Need to Go Back to School

2006-08-10T08:27:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, August is a month of conflict inside my WT heart. On one hand, I am sad because it is almost time for the kids to go back to school. On the other hand, if my kids don't get back in school soon, I will need a room at Shady Brook Farm where I will be making potholders all day. It's a tough one. With the girls back in school that means that I am back in school too. The routine starts over and the nightly battles of showers, homework and activities begin. I like the fact that summer is a break from all of that. On the flip side, my kids are starting to show the signs that they are bored and have WAY TOO MUCH free time on their hands: Symptom Number One They look at me with their eyes practically rolling back into their heads and sigh "O-KAY" when I ask them to do something mundane, like take out the trash or fold laundry. Symptom Number Two They are slipping back into the false impression that they need to have 24/7 entertainment provided for them. And they keep asking when we are going on another VACATION! Add to this symptom the fact that "Miss Minnesota/Margarita" child has taken to using the crystal wine glasses for her drinks. AS IF! Symptom Number Three The girls fight about the color of the sky and just about everything else. "The sky is blue" "No it's not...it's sky blue" "I SAID it was blue and that covers all the blue colors including SKY blue" "Does not" "Mom, she is being MEAN...." It usually at this point in their "exchange" that I usually scream something like: "fortheloveofGODwouldyougirlsquitbickering!Doyouknowhowluckyyou areandifyouwanttobeunhappyaboutsomethingIwillgiveyousomething tobeunhappyabout!" Or, something along those lines. After reviewing this post, I realize I am no longer conflicted about the kids going back to school. Thank you for allowing me this therapy. Countdown is ten days until school starts, probably roughly the same for most of you WTMs. Let the games begin! What about you guys? Are you READY?

North Woods Primer

2006-08-09T21:33:00.000-07:00

Have you been to the North Woods? No, I don't mean the stretch of highway just outside of your suburban area. I'm talking about the North Woods of Michigan. Now, some would argue that those are not the true North Woods...they'd tell you the North Woods are only found in the state that begins with "W" where everyone walks around with cheese on their heads. Poppycock. Our North Woods are of mythic proportion to our family. And they exist in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Now, they haven't always been so special to our family. In fact, our first trip there was something of a shock. It was some years ago. And I have to tell you. Tacky Princess was not prepared for all the nature. For all the spiders. For all the mice. And mosquitoes. And general lack of...facilities. Ah, this takes me back, WTM's. And I'm really not sure I'd call them the good ol' days. Those of you who have been with us for a while know that there was a time when I was dangerously close to the dark side of Muffiadom. Well, when we first visited the North Woods, I was still there. Let me lay the scene, if you will... Piling into our van, we crammed suitcase after suitcase filled with everything we owned. Having heard that it can actually snow in the U.P. (forever after referred to as the UP) even in late July and August. So - we needed parkas right along with our swimsuits. Uh huh. I'm not joking. When we arrived, I discovered what outdoor facilities meant. OUTHOUSE!!!!! OK, you can take the Tacky Princess out of the city, but it's darn hard to take the city out of the Tacky Princess. I'm all for scaling back and all, but schlepping outdoors to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night (which you inevitably have to do if you've had any children and/or are over the age of 30 and/or don't do your Kegal's faithfully...) - OMG. That is painful. And to a city girl like me. It's downright scary. I know. I'm a whimp. Then, there was the bathing situation. You guessed it. No running water. Bathe in the ice cold lake. Our cabins are a 10 minute car ride from Lake Freakin' Superior. Can you say, "Arctic"? Try shaving your legs in that water. So, the first time I was heading into the lake outside our cabins to take a dip / shower / shave, my host says to me, "Oh, don't forget to hustle in to avoid the itch. Once you get in over your shoulders, you don't have to worry about it." "The what?" certain I had misunderstood him. "The itch. Didn't Susan tell you?" "Uh, no." "Yeah, sure she did. You know, get in super fast, so you don't get the itch." OK, so now my skin was starting to crawl. "Um, no, I'm pretty sure I would have remembered a conversation about something called the ITCH. Why don't you fill me in?" "Well, it's just that the geese poop in the lake and all, and the first twenty feet of water or so can make your skin itch all over. It's not dangerous or anything. No big deal, really. Just hurry in." "It makes your skin itch. . . All over? How long does this last?" "Not too long - maybe six or seven hours. But really, just forget about it. I shouldn't have even mentioned it. Sometimes it's not even a problem." (Visibly freaking out now...) "Oh, that's ok, I think I 'll just wait a while." We're going to be there six days. Thoughts start racing through my head. Which is worse? Not bathing or getting "the itch"? I'm truly not certain, but I sure as hell don't want this "itch"! Would you? I walk back up to the cabin, reporting to my husband that I will be smelling like B.O. for the remainder of the trip, and there's nothing he can do about it. Furthermore, he will learn what it's like to live with Mountain Mary because shaving is now out of the question. Like you can do that while in the water over your shoulders. Keep in mind this is all on our first afternoon in the Woods. As dusk falls, I realize that the one "light" in the big cabin is only enough to light a small area in the kitchen. I likened going upstairs to the four bedrooms to going through a haunted house at Halloween. Dark, unknown, no idea what might be coming next. Stuff everywhere you turn. 1 AM - Daughter has been crying inconsolably for two hours. Scared. It's too dark. Not used to the creepy sounds (nature is scary...). Sounds like frogs, mainly. She can't get to sleep. I'm afraid she's keeping the other seven people upstairs awake, too. 2 AM - Daughter finally falls asleep - in our bed - there are now three of us in a double bed. Very comfy. I am wide awake. Nature is so very restful. What is that awful smell? Oh, goody. I think it's me. 3 AM - Have to pee like a racehorse. Willing it to go away. Damn those vodka tonics. I figured they'd make me sleep. What was I thinking? Should have known I'd need to get up. Periodically, I hear a scurrying around downstairs - I'm hoping for a mouse, but Lord knows what it is, and I can't go down there. I'm such a wuss. 4 AM - God, kill me now. If I wet this bed, I will never forgive myself. Will blame it on our precious inconsolable daughter. Never mind that the stuffing is coming out of the mattress, and it smells of mildew. This isn't my place to soil. 5 AM - OMG, OMG, OMG. This is hell. WT hell. Where is a #%**$ toilet when you need one? Can no longer turn over in bed for fear of leaking. Would slit my wrists, but razor is still outside from failed bathing attempt. 6 AM - Sun is rising. Courage returning. Bears probably sneak off when it's light out, right? Along with the Boogey Man? Geez, what a wuss... 6:15 AM - Hubby wakes up; bounds out of bed to go outside to take a leak. I beg him to wait for me to slither out of bed (avoiding leakage...) and go with him. Safety in numbers, right? Must continue tomorrow. Sorry so long. This is making me have to go to the bathroom. In the one with the real live flusher. And electricity. And a mirror. And a shower - with razor. And fan. Ah, the luxury...North Woods Part Deux next time... :)

White Trash Summer Vacation

2006-08-06T16:32:00.000-07:00

Found this card in a pile of old pictures today. It is from that awesome line of cards, mikwright, that uses old family pictures for their greeting cards. If you can't read the picture I have the front of the card below: AND DAD SAID: IF I HAVE TO TURN AROUND ONE MORE TIME---WE'RE GOING TO DROP ALL OF YOU OFF AT THE NEXT REST STOP AND GO ON WITHOUT YOU! The inside of the card reads: My summer vacation was fun. We went to the washington monument. My sister got cramps. My brother lost his retainer. Mom cried alot. Dad took us to an orphanage. Just a nice and dysfunctional summer vacation thought from white trash mom. You can find other twisted cards from mikwright by going to www.mikwright.com!

Talladega Nights, The Legend of Ricky Bobby

2006-08-05T05:45:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, New movie for the WT Hall of Fame. Last night I saw the new Hall of Fame selection, Talladega Nights: The Legend of Ricky Bobby. There are SO MANY one-liners from this movie that will be quoted from this movie! If you like really stupid humor (a la Wedding Crashers) then go out TODAY and see this movie. Naturally, I saw it on opening night but will probably drag my older brother to see it this weekend, as he and I both are incredibly immature when it comes to our humor. If you want to know more about the movie, please click on the title to today's blog entry and you will be taken to THE BEST MOVIE REVIEW SITE IN THE WORLD...Pajiba. Dustin and the peeps at Pajiba pretty much dictate my media habits (except for Project Runway) and their reviews are LOL funny (and rather mean at times but that's the fun of it)! Go to Pajiba.com to read the review or click on the link in the title. If you want a good belly laugh, go directly to the multi-plex, get an $8 slushie and some nachos and have yourself a great time! Let me know what you think.

Ding Dong Recipe & Kid's Sleepovers

2006-08-03T13:22:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, My healthly food phase lasted almost 48 hours. It is now back to the normal WTM food fare. I have three reasons for posting this Ding Dong recipe today: 1)Due to the many WTM reader requests. 2)Due to the fact I am craving chocolate today. 3)Due to the fact that I no longer care if my kids eat right since they both had sleepovers last night and I want to give both of them away so it really doesn't matter what they eat. Here is the Ding Dong recipe: Ding Dong Dessert Sandwich Items Needed: 1 box Hostess Ding Dongs 4 oz. cream cheese 3/4 c. powdered sugar 6 oz. whipped topping 1 small pkg. white chocolate (chocolate or vanilla) instant pudding 1 Â½ c. milk 1 pkg. chocolate chips DIRECTIONS: Mix powdered sugar, whipped topping and cream cheese in a bowl. Add more or less cream cheese, sugar or whipped topping to desired consistency. Set aside in the refrigerator for 10 minutes. In a separate bowl, prepare instant pudding according to directions and place in refrigerator for 5 minutes. Next, slice the Ding Dongs in half and lay them cream-side-up on a plate or serving dish lined with wax paper. Layer pudding in the middle of Â½ Ding Dong and spread out to the edge of the snack cake. Add a layer of chocolate chips and a final layer of cream cheese, whipped topping and powdered sugar mixture. Place the other Â½ Ding Dong on top of the layers and voilaÂa Ding Dong sandwich. Add a final layer of cream cheese, whipped topping and powdered sugar mixture with chocolate chips on top of the treat. Repeat. Place in freezer overnight before serving Would I REALLY give my previous lambs away? Of course not. I would naturally try to SELL them on E-Bay. I AM kidding. But seriously, why in the hell do I agree to have sleepovers? Both of the girls, especially my older one, are SO CRANKY the next day that I curse myself every time I let them have a sleepover. Then the horror of the post-sleepover fades (much like the birth experience or the terrible twos) and I let them have another one. AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Lying to My Children for Health Reasons

2006-08-02T17:07:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Due to my WT mothering skills, the girls have some pretty bad eating habits. I do try to have lots of fresh veggies and fruit around to balance out the LUNCHABLES and the fast food meals but I have been inspired lately to actually try to do better. Call it the heat, call it guilt...I don't know why I am on this mission but the good mother genes are kicking in and so I am trying harder to make at least ONE meal a day that is healthy for the little monsters. The problem is that the girls don't LIKE food that is not heavily processed with lots of preservatives. All that MSG laden stuff that makes everything taste so good! Anyway---they are picky so like a good mother I pathologically LIE MY BUTT off when I try to serve them good food. Turkey Burger Meat substituted for Hamburger Meat I can't let them SEE the turkey burger meat or it's the kiss of death. They can't taste the difference but if they see it----it's all over. No dice. Cheese & Velveeta Cheesefood on Veggies My favorite cheesefood, Velveeta, is used on some veggies so they will actually eat them. I figure a little bit of cheesefood and a lot of veggies is better than no cheesefood and no veggies. No Calorie Powder Drink Mixed into Water I tell them it's Koolaid when it is really Crystal Lite. Like the WTM I am, my standards are LOW so I rationalize that it's better than soda pop. I have some other things but since my list is so lame I thought I would ask some of you all what you do to assist your kids in eating better. Things that are easy and don't take a lot of time. Any tips WTMs? Would love to hear them!

Our Lady of Perpetual Shopping

2006-07-31T17:16:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, I am recovering from my 25th high school reunion. I am trying to post about it but I still feel too lousy to write. I didn't even drink that much but I have felt like ca-ca every since Sunday AM. Reality sucks. I am posting later tonight but had to share something from the weekend with you. One of my high school friends made me a belt buckle that had the above "Saint" on it. Naturally, since I went to a Catholic high school, many of my high school friends have kind of a twisted sense of humor. If you are offended by the above "faux" Saint, please go away. I am on my last nerve today since those strange children (who are calling me MOM) keep asking me to take them places or to feed them. Will talk later tonight. After I've started to drink again.

Starving My Children

2006-07-27T04:49:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Apparently, I am systematically starving my children. According to my 12 year old daughter: Other moms fix LUNCH for their kids. You NEVER fix us lunch. We have to fix ourselves pb&j sandwiches for lunch every day. I wish I could do my almost teen daughter's voice for you on the blog because it is quite pitiful. Reason #468 why my kids will need therapy later on...I make them fix their own lunch in the summer. I really have no strong moral principal about the kids fixing their own lunch. I am just lazy and I think that if I have sandwich stuff, fruit and some carrots they can pretty much fix themselves lunch during the summer vacation. However, this week in our household was kind of bad one in terms of lunch materials for the poor starving children. The girls and I just returned from a weekend trip, so I didn't go to the store over the weekend. I am not really eating much this week, as my 25th high school reunion is this weekend and I am trying to lose 10 pounds before the weekend. Very realistic. So with no store run and me not eating, the kids REALLY DID NOT have much to choose from for lunch materials. Yesterday they ate crackers and pretzels with peanut butter because there is no bread, no cheese, no meat in the house. There is no more fruit as of this AM because my nephew was here last night and he loves grapes. There is oatmeal...but no milk. There is some THAI soup mix. It is, even by my WT standards, pretty sad. I will probably have to make a light store run today just so one of the neighbors doesn't hotline me to social services. WTMs, do you starve your offspring in the summer? Or am I, like my daughter claims, the ONLY mother on the planet that makes her kids fix their own lunch?

Trust But Verify and Other Travel Tips

2006-07-22T17:49:00.000-07:00

"Trust but Verify" -President Ronald Reagan, regarding the Russians during Cold War Dear WTMs, President Reagan is known for making that quote about the USSR during the Cold War. Sure, he trusted the "Commies" but he liked to "verify". Doesn't matter if you loved Reagan, thought he was the devil or somewhere in the middle. This philosophy comes in very handy as a mother. This philosophy is especially relevant in my life as I packed for on a short weekend trip with "the girls". The girls and I are visiting one of my best friends and her family this weekend. I am taking a short "blog break" right now and relaxing. But I just had to share the pre-trip packing experience, preparing for this quick trip, as it will hit close to home with you WTM readers. My girls are 12 and 8. Older daughter gets more responsibilities and perks but I am letting them both do more things this summer that reflect my growing confidence in their maturity. I trust them but I verify. For example-My 8 year old wants to pack her own suitcase. Fine. She was passionate about her mother not laying all her clothing out "like a baby". She is, in case I was unaware, going into THIRD GRADE. Practically college aged, right? So I let her "pack". She goes to bed Thursday night. I check her duffel bag. I swear I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP. I was laughing as I figured it would probably be as "scary" as it was-----I had a stash of her stuff in my bedroom ready to pack----but I let her do it, just so I could say that I did. Contents of her bag for a 4 day weekend (after several talks about what to bring and a pile of clothing laid out for her):

A walkie talkie
American girl doll clothing (Two sets with NO American Girl doll being taken)
Gum
Two very old VHS tapes of Kid Movies
Two pairs of flip flops
A purse from my sister
Pictures she drew (sweet)
Books
PJs
Underwear

In the mind of my 8 year old, the above list is perfectly fine for a 4 day trip. Trust but Verify, right WTMs?

Peaceful Mass vs. Mass Circus

2006-07-20T11:39:00.000-07:00

Ahhh, the Catholic Sunday Mass. Every Sunday. Without fail. Unless you are dying. (and you'd really better go then, so you can get your "last rites"!) Stand up, sit down, kneel, stand, kneel, sit, kneel. Do it in the right order. Say the right response at the right time. Sing when the man or lady waving their arms around tells you to sing. I know - some of you don't get our compunction to go EVERY week, but it's been ingrained in me since I was born. And honestly, when I allow myself to get immersed in it, the Mass really does "feed" me spiritually for the upcoming week. Not to sound preachy/muffy/holier-than-thou or anything like that, but we try so very hard (in our own lame way) to get there on time. And like many of the regulars, we tend to sit in the same area each week. Don't misunderstand. We are not like those anal-retentives who know exactly which row is "theirs" and give people the evil eye if someone deigns to take their pew. We just sit in the same basic 6 to 8 rows. I guess we've found our "comfort zone". However, on two separate occasions recently, we let life get in the way (read: had hair problems that screamed to be resolved before walking out the door...) and arrived at Mass just as it was about to start. So, once, I marched the family all the way down to the front, and once, we simply slithered into the back row. Let me tell you something. They were two completely different Masses. Don't get me wrong. Same priest was presiding. Similar Mass content (I think...). But it was as if we were in two completely different universes altogether. Let me lay the scene. Front of the Church: Serene, peaceful people who are fully participating in the Mass Back of the Church: Young, sleep-deprived parents whose children distract anyone within a 50 foot radius Front: Perfect opportunity to listen to the readings and really reflect on their meaning Back: Perfect opportunity to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud at all of the naughty things the pre-school age children around us were doing Front: Perfect vantage point for helping with the distribution of the Eucharist (communion) Back: Perfect spot to find leftover Cheerios if your stomach is growling Front: Ideal location if you want to focus on the Mass and solely the Mass Back: Ideal location if you want to focus on the adorable drooling twins and their conniving older brother in the pew in front of you Front: Quiet as a church Back: Quiet as a circus ---Speaking phonetically, sounds like: wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-woooooooooooooo! RRRRRAAAAHR! Mommy, RRRRRRRAAAAHR! I'm a lion! RRRRRRAAAAHR! (SHHHHHH!) No! RRRRRRAAAHR! (SHHHHHHH!) ME-OH ME-OH ME-OH ME-OH ME-OH ME-OH ME-OH MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Mommy, ME-OH ME-OH ME-OH ME-OH ME-NOOOOOOOO! NO! Mommy! (Shhhhhh!) NOOOOOOOooooooooooooo! (now muffled and slightly drowned out by hand over mouth trick, followed by obvious licking Mommy's hand sounds and delighted laughter, followed by Mommy shoving Petey Preschooler into Daddy's arms and turning away as if she doesn't even know the child) Front: Perfect view of the alter/priest/servers, etc. Back: Perfect view of all the pretty outfits in church that week, not to mention a prime spot to watch Petey Preschooler sock his mommy in the butt like 30 times before the dad nearly rips his arm out of the socket. Petey, though, seems indestructable (and incorrigible) and smiles a toothy grin. Again, failed attempts to suppress our laughter. Front: Snuggle time with hubby Back: Birth control argument Front: Great for those with long attention span Back: Great for adult ADD victims You get the picture. Several times during Mass, while we were in the back row circus, my older daughter and I had to avoid eye contact because we both knew we'd start cracking up at all of the funny noises, sightings, etc. Sorry, I know you had to be there 'cuz' writing simply cannot do it justice. It really did take me back to when our girls were younger. Generally speaking, they were pretty good, though they, too, had their moments. Like the time our two-year-old kept screaming, "I - WANT - SOME! I - WANT - SOME!" throughout the entire Communion. This went on until I remembered that I had some Cheerios tucked away in the good ol' diaper bag. When I got them out, she gleefully started eating them and proudly began yelling, "I - GOT - SOME! I - GOT - SOME", much to my horror. Ah, good times. Good times. I'd love to hear of your own WTM church experiences! Let's hear it, ladies!

Guy Kawasaki Likes White Trash Mom

2006-07-19T21:08:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Guy Kawasaki, one of my FAVORITE business writers, mentioned the white trash mom blog in one of HIS blogs yesterday. I was totally floored by this because I read his blog and I love his book "The Art of the Start". Mr. Kawasaki runs a successful venture capital firm and is very easy to understand---for a newbie geek like me. His style is refreshing and very down to earth. The irony is that the last few months I have been trying to raise capital to expand the jeans business. I have been getting kicked around pretty hard and have not had much success. One of my favorite authors/business gurus notices the White Trash Mom blog. Isn't that a scream? Only in America! Alanis Morissette says it best, don't you think? Have a good one WTMs!
Ironic by Alanis Morissette

An old man turned ninety-eight
He won the lottery and died the next day
It's a black fly in your Chardonnay
It's a death row pardon two minutes too late
Isn't it ironic... don't you think?

It's like rain on your wedding day
It's a free ride when you've already paid
It's the good advice that you just didn't take
Who would've thought... it figures

Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly
He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids goodbye
He waited his whole damn life to take that flight
And as the plane crashed down he thought
"Well isn't this nice..."
And isn't it ironic... don't you think?

It's like rain on your wedding day
It's a free ride when you've already paid
It's the good advice that you just didn't take
Who would've thought... it figures

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up
In your face

A traffic jam when you're already late
A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break
It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife
It's meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife
And isn't it ironic... don't you think?
A little too ironic... and yeah I really do think...

It's like rain on your wedding day
It's a free ride when you've already paid
It's the good advice that you just didn't take
Who would've thought... it figures

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
Life has a funny, funny way of helping you out
Helping you out

Aldi in the Hood

2006-07-13T10:32:00.000-07:00

That's right. There's a distinct difference between Aldi in the 'burbs and the Aldi in the Hood. And I'm here to spell them out for you. I had never yet been to Aldi in the Hood, but last week, I was picking up my dry cleaning in the Hood (at the waaaaay cheaper cleaners there...), and I figured while I was over there, I'd give it a shot and save myself the trip to the one I usually go to. Neither is actually close to my own home, so it's never a convenient trip, to be honest. At least not as convenient as my grocery store a few blocks away. I walked in and discovered that the layout was basically the same. Same routine on the carts. Prices: same. Cool...but that's where the similarities ended, my WT comrades. Here's how it went down from there... So, I'm strolling along the first aisle, and this guy stops in front of the sugars and proudly tells his wife/significant other/hoochie mama...whatever: "Hey, 'dis brown sugah bettah for ya' dan duh white stuff. It healthy. It the heart healthy shit. Let's get some." It took me a minute to figure out what he was talking about. Aha! He was thinking of the naturally brown sugar - you know, like Sugar in the Raw? The unprocessed stuff? Far be it from me to correct the genious. Strolling, strolling... An employee approaches an ancient woman just behind me... "Excuse me, ma'am. We're going to have to keep that bag for you up front while you're shopping. You can have it back when you leave the store." (takes a plastic shopping bag from the elderly woman, while repeating what she has just said) It becomes apparent that the woman has been placing smaller items in the bag in an effort to steal them. This is disturbing on so many levels... not the least of which is the value (or apparent lack thereof) that we place on the elderly in our society. But this is a "happy" column, so I'll journey onward. So, I'm on the produce aisle, which, by the way, is probably about five percent the size of the supermarket size of produce aisle. Generally, at Aldi, as I've mentioned before, there's just one of each type of product (one white bread, one grape jelly, one variety of apples). However, in the case of tomatoes, there was a small selection to be had. Now at the risk of sounding very haughty, high-minded and intellectually biased, I am going to proceed on here. I'm among my WT friends, after all, and I feel this is a safe place for me to sound off... I'm standing in front of the produce. In order to read the prices here, you have to look above the items, find the name of what you're looking for and read the sign. It's not exactly rocket science. Suddenly, I become very aware of the area surrounding me and the odor therein. Uh-huh. You guessed it. B.O., sisters. Bigtime. I nearly caught my breath, but before I could, a hand was on my back. I looked up to find myself staring at the big breasts of an enormous woman in halter top and spandex leggings. Of course, I was also face to face with the B.O. I tried to back up, but the giant woman put her arm around me and drew me closer. As an aside here, let me just say two things. I am not a small woman, but this woman made me feel dimunitive! And second, I have an aversion to close-talkers to begin with. That's even with people I know well. So to have a B.O. laced Amazon whom I don't know from Eve hug me to her bosom? Well, let's just say it was all I could do not to vomit. I guess you could compare it to my daughter's reaction to the pizza sauce at the concert (see 7/4 post)! "Lemme axe you somthin'..." "Uh-huh, sure" (just please don't put my nose in your armpit...) (Pointing at the Grape Tomatoes and then up at the signage above) "Which ones is these?" "Oh, those are the Grape Tomatoes." (releasing her vice grip...) "Grape? Geez...And how much are they?" (Pointing at the sign...) "A dollar twenty-nine." "Oh..." (picking up the Roma Tomatoes and again resting her other hand on my back...) "Well, how 'bout these here? Are they the ones that's 59 cents?" "Hmmm...no, it says they're a dollar forty-nine." (pointing at a different sign) "Well, damn...which ones does it say is 59 cents?" (looking where her finger points, it dawns on me...) "Oh, that's the avocadoes. They're 59 cents apiece." "Sheee-uht. Ava-what? I just need me some tomatoes." "Yeah..." OK, now, really. What was I supposed to say? I did feel sorry for her. She stunk, she couldn't read. And she didn't know the joy of the California avocado. Life's tough, you know? Standing in line now... Stinky Amazon: Man, did you see those tomatoes? They's pricey! I thought they was 59 cents. Super Genious: Yeah, but they do have the brown sugah. That shit's good for your heart, and it only 89 cents here. Heart healthy bargain shopping. Only at Aldi in the Hood...

WTM Decorating

2006-07-08T11:04:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, I have been decorating, the white trash mom way, for my older daughter's room. She is in the "I am 12-I need to make my room a place my friends and I can hang out in- phase" and since she still has the furniture that she had in her nursery, I can't really blame her too much. Okay---so I have been painting furniture and prepping walls the last few days. I did all the crap that HGTV said would make my painting experience a good one. I purchased all the products and paint that was supposed to make the project look great. Yet the furniture looks like "ca-ca". I did everything that I was supposed to do yet it looks BAD. Not the "Charming-Shabby Chic" type of bad. I mean BAD. Like a toddler took a brush and smeared it all over the furniture. REALLY LOUSY. I have been trying to patch up my mistakes yet it still looks awful. As much as I bag on "Pottery Barn Kids" and the like, their furniture looks great------how in the HELL to they do it? Anyone? Bueller? I await the advice of my WTM network for answers!

An Aldi Primer

2006-07-08T07:13:00.000-07:00

Do you any of you share my obsession? Many of my friends sneer, jeer and laugh at me for shopping at Aldi. But I don't care. And the Muffies? Well, let's just say, you don't have to worry about any encounters with the Muffies at Aldi. For those of you not blessed enough to have an Aldi in your midst, let me fill you in. Small grocery store, off price, only one brand of each type of product. Instead of being all Always Save or some store brand like that, it's Aldi's brand, but they've come up with their own clever name for each individual product. I got frozen pizzas there recently, and I think they were called Tortino's. Get the idea? It's often a blatant knock-off of the popular brand name. Personally, I am convinced that they've gotten the good brands to make the products for them and let them distribute them under a different name. OK, so when I quit working full-time a few years back, we lost almost half of our income in one fell swoop. I was doing everything I could to cut corners. Frankly, it totally sucked. A friend told me to try Aldi, and though skeptical, I figured, "What did I have to lose?" So, I went. If you've never been there, here's an Aldi primer...

Do not go to Aldi at mealtimes or at any other time that you think a normal grocery store might be remotely busy. There's usually just one checker, and lines can be a problem.
Don't (like I did) go to Aldi, after your exercise class, with your full wedding set on, chatting on your cell phone, get to the checkout, whip out your checkbook, only to discover that they DO NOT ACCEPT CHECKS! - An aside here, if I may...this did happen to me. There were SIX people in line behind me, and the tension was palpable. I was mortified. Embarrassed in my new haven of a grocery store. Here's what the checker said: "I'm sorry. We don't accept checks or food stamps." Apparently, she thought I might resort to food stamps when the check thing wasn't working out. I thought I was going to have to slink out of the store without my groceries. I checked my wallet, discovered I had one twenty, and two dollars and forty-two cents in change. I asked for the total, wondering how much stuff I'd have to put back, and it was $22.23. I had two bags, completely filled to the brim with groceries! I was hooked.
Don't expect anyone to bag your groceries for you at Aldi. In fact, don't expect bags at all - unless you want to pay for them. . . which I do... regularly. And for that, I get stared at... regularly... by the regulars.
And you know that curbside driveup you love so much? Not gonna' happen. Get over it, girl.
Oh! Here's a great one. When you're walking in, you have to grab your cart from outside the front door. But you'll find that the carts are all locked up. You have to put a quarter in to get the cart. You get it back when you return your cart to the proper place. That's ingenious, if you ask me. The number of times I've seen carts careening across a parking lot...
Occasionally, you won't be able to find a price for something at Aldi. Assume it's dirt cheap, and buy it, sister. You're at Aldi, for God's sake.
The samples? No, sweetie. There aren't any samples.

Now, let me just tell you. The first time I came home with goods from our local Aldi, my husband was less than elated. You have to understand, my big strong man is no Kip or Biff or Ken or whatever we've decided to call the male equivalent of the Muffie (Queen, we really must make an executive decision on this one...!). He grew up in a blue collar family in a lower middle class neighborhood. He doesn't put on airs. However, he has BAD memories of his dad, who did all of the shopping, buying all generic label products. Remember the black and white label stuff? How appealing a cabinet full of that stuff must've been! He swore two degrees later that he'd never have to eat that way again.

Anyway, let's just say, I had an uphill climb, convincing him that this Aldi place was a good bet. But the more products we tried, the more we were all convinced. Geez, I'm sounding like the creepy people on an infomercial.

OK, now for the really cool secrets. Some of my favorite products, etc. Their Fit & Active line of crackers and tortilla chips. Light pancake syrup. Pudding, English muffins, cereal with cranberry and almonds, all dairy products, refrigerated biscuits, marinated pork tenderloin, beef sirloin frozen in individual cry-o-vac packages. What else? Oh! Frozen curly fries - seasoned and oh, so yummy! Frozen Italian Ice, frozen fruit bars, those fabulous individual eclairs you can buy at Sam's (cheaper, just as good, and you don't have to buy a palate full of them...). Honey, ketchup, mustard, sugar, flour, pancake mix. I'm telling you, the list goes on.

Produce is hit or miss, so I don't get it as much. The consistently good stuff is grape tomatoes, pears, corn, seedless watermelon and tri-color peppers. I don't like their apples, bananas or peaches.

All right. I'm off my Aldi soap box. But soon, I'm going to tell of my recent experience of shopping at Aldi in the 'Hood. Whole different world, let me tell you. Whole different world.

Is That Barf? No, It's Pizza Sauce!

2006-07-04T06:45:00.000-07:00

WTM's, you will all be relieved to know that Darling Daughter is OK! She survived her first concert experience, and so did her wacky (or is that wack-o?) mother! She checked in twice - once during the concert and once on the way home to tell us when she'd be at her friend's to be picked up. While still at the concert, her voice was charged with energy, and it really did bring back all of the memories of those lazy hazy concert days. Here in the Midwest, we had what we called Summer Jam. They had Foreigner, Kansas, Journey, Styx, REO Speedwagon...can't remember all of them. Anyway, they were all in one venue. What a blast. And yes, we had to dress the part. I was so pleased to see that my daughter and her friends wore their jean shorts, shirts and flip flops (not to be confused with thongs, you know...) to the concert. None of the hoochie mama stuff for my girl. :) Yep, she's a good girl - so far, anyway. I would have been decked out in flouncy skirt, the aforementioned Mia flats or better yet, Candies hooker heels, off the shoulder top, big wide belt cinching in my (then) tiny waist, Olivia Newton John style headband (for all that sweating we'd be doing...), glitter eye shadow up to my brows, dark lipstick, liner and blush. Oh, yeah, what a hottie. Go, eighties! So, on to the funnies of the evening. This was the kind of concert where you move from stage to stage to catch the next performer. The girls were doing just that, along with the roadies from Cheyenne, when one of the roadies happened to step on someone's unused "cup" of pizza sauce. You know, the kind with the sealed top? Suddenly, my daughter found her back side completely splattered with pizza sauce! Now, of course, in our day, you know it would have been vomit, so when I heard the story, I was immediately thinking how lucky she was that someone hadn't hurled on her. But to hear her tell the story, you would think someone had poured a vat of mucus on her. A little aside here. This is the child who, when we sat her down on the grass for the first time as a toddler, she kept trying to lift her legs up off of it. Hated the stuff. This is the child who melts in temp's above 75 degrees or humidity above 60 percent. This is the child who would only sit on the edge of the sandbox, and even then, it was pretty gross, thank you very much. This is the princess who couldn't stand to get her face wet in the pool until she was like 8, cuz, eeeeoooh! And this is the child who HATES ketchup. Makes her literally gag. She thought the stuff all over the back of her was ketchup, and she said she nearly threw up. OK, so, you're caught up on her hangup now. So, picture me, suppressing my laughter (I know, I'm her mom...it's shameful...). But I just couldn't help myself. So, I had to tell her that she would find it funny, too, by the next morning, which she did, by the way. She and her friends did their best to get her cleaned up and moved on to the next performer. And bless her heart, by the time she got home, she still had pizza sauce in places I don't even want to think about! They had a blast, got within about 5 feet of Cheyenne (my daughter's biggest thrill of the day), swears she "made eye contact with her", and she got some amazing pic's of her, too! And her line, which she proudly professed to me: "And Mom, we didn't have any encounters!" (unless you count the pizza sauce!) That's my girl!

What Have I Done?

2006-07-01T22:40:00.000-07:00

"Stay together!" "Call to check in every couple of hours..." "Keep your bag with you at ALL times!" "Stay hydrated!" "Don't forget to reapply your sunscreen." "Stay away from the weirdos..." Big strong man gives me the evil eye...and whisks her away to drop off at her friend's house. "Have fun, sweetie!" I call out weakly. We've already told her all of these things - and more - like there will be pot at this concert. There will be drunk people. There will be stoned people. There will be people who really invade your personal space. Oh, God, did we make a mistake letting our daughter go to her first concert at almost 15? She's with two of her girlfriends and the (reportedly) responsible young adult cousin of one of the friends (she's 23). Thinking back to the days when my husband (then boyfriend...) and I went to concerts in great numbers, I can think of many unsavory experiences that I had. There was the time that I got high off of secondhand marijuana smoke. I am NOT joking! OK, that's freaking me right out. My friends and I decided to move to different seats when we realized that we were feeling funny, and we hadn't even been drinking or smoking anything. OK, we'd had a little beer - we were legal... but not a ton. And we were in an open air stadium seeing Pink Floyd. Stoned off of secondhand weed. Ugh! There was the time that the drunk teenaged girl standing directly next to me took off her hot pink tube top and was promptly carried up onto the stage. You thought I was going to say she was escorted out of the concert, didn't you? Nope! They made an even bigger spectacle of her than she was already making of herself. Another time, I went to Lilleth Fair, and I got hit on - hard - twice - by lesbians. Nothing wrong with lesbians. Just don't want any coming on to my very heterosexual daughter. In fact, don't want any guys coming on to her either, for that matter. Oh! And there was the time that my best friend - are you ready for this? Someone actually threw up on her. Yep. Right onto her Cindy Lauper look-alike flouncy skirt, leggings, Mia flats, etc. They missed her side ponytail by a smidge. And thank God for that. It had taken quite some time to get the sprayed-on haircolor just right. One-third hot pink, one-third teal and one-third purple. The silver eye shadow made the look. Try to top that one. OMG! What have I done? Please, God, let her come home OK. Tell me she's going to be OK.

Mid-Summer Night's Blues

2006-06-29T20:50:00.000-07:00

Wow, could it really be almost the middle of summer (while, technically, it truly just began, in terms of the actual season...)? Here in the Midwest, where we live, school has already been out for over a month. We are well into the swing of summer. We've gotten past those dreadful first couple of weeks of summer where the kids had actually forgotten what to do with all of their time. That's where I came in with the lists of things for them to do. You know, like this one: Empty wastebaskets Clean one bathroom of your choice Straighten den Pick up everything in house that belongs to you (that's a great one, don't you think?!) Of course, this is assuming that their own room is already clean, which is a lofty assumption in and of itself. As soon as I start making the lists, the summer boredom and the "what can we do's" seem to simultaneously V-A-N-I-S-H - VANISH! Funny how that works, huh? So, yes, we've gotten into the "routine", if you will. My oh-so-soon-to-be-high-schooler has discovered every reality show known to man, much to my chagrin, and I find myself creating DUMB rules like, "You may only have a combined two hours of computer time, TV or Playstation each day. I hate what I sound like, but I also despise that it takes a hunky boy walking down the street to get her even to consider walking out the front door to get a breath of fresh air, let alone ride her bike, shoot some hoops or hit some tennis balls against the garage door. God forbid she break a SWEAT! OK, I'm ranting. Have I mentioned before that you all are very cheap therapy? Thanks ever so much. And may I just say that if you hear a heavy "thud, thud, thud" sound emanating from the general vicinity of my humble abode, that would just be the music of our 11 year old, who has suddenly switched from show tunes 24/7 to Hit List, blasted just below the legal limit before your eardrums burst. All Show Tunes, All The Time could be quite a trial after a period of time, but I am beginning to pine for the days of "I'm Going to Wash That Man Right Out of My Hair" and "Bill, I Love You So, I Always Will". Anything's better than "Don't You, Don't You Want to Do Me Now?" (I'll tell you what I want to do with you...) Now entering my soundproof bedroom for a little R & R with my big strong man. Thank God for that little bit of respite, and double thank God that he doesn't like to listen to "his" music (think headbanger) in our private quarters - mostly only in his car (phew...!). Must...sleep...now. A little James Taylor, Sheryl Crow or Natalie Merchant might be nice right about now. Signing off. :)

Muffia Meeting-Part Two

2006-06-28T07:55:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Sorry to not conclude the "two parter" yesterday but fell asleep (drooling) upright in a chair. Okay---so I am outside the meeting room listening in and waiting for a moment when I can break in to the all important meeting and humbly ask where pictures are being taken. Disclaimer: I knew some of the moms in this meeting----a few WT moms were in the muffy meeting hell, probably guilted into joining or just did not say no fast enough. Overheard in hallway: Anorexic fake tanned mom #1: Okay now we come to the issue of catering. Dean and Deluca were good for the salads but I received feedback from "Anorexic fake tanned mom #2" that the dessert tray last year was not up to par. White Trash Mom Commentary: I swear to God. She said "up to par". Read on. As soon as " mom #1" said the "par" comment, woman joined in the DEBATE with a heartfelt speech. This person had to be "Anorexic fake tanned mom #2": "Anorexic fake tanned mom #2", speaking in a "valley girl" voice: You know, it's just that, you know, Dean and Deluca was SO EXPENSIVE so their dessert tray and Muffy and I just REALLY feel that we need to MAKE A CHANGE this year, you know? White Trash Mom Commentary: Please note: I added in the third "you know" for dramatic effect----but the first two were absolutely real. I could NOT make it up. It was far too good. After the important speech by "Anorexic fake tanned mom #2", there was a general consensus that yes....a change needed to be made. Whew. Another mom, who I will call "Bigger Boned Mom wearing really expensive clothes and dripping in jewelry" chimed in with her suggestion: "Bigger Boned Mom wearing really expensive clothes and dripping in jewelry": Connie So and so...you guys know Connie, right...ANYWAY...has this incredible woman she uses for her parties and events. Her name is Xiena or Sylvia...whatever...she hardly speaks a word of English but she is SO SWEET....Anyway...I could get her number from Connie and we could see what she would charge for a desert tray.....Connie says she is dirt CHEAP...... White Trash Mom Commentary: Alot to translate here for those of you not skilled in Muffia communication. "Bigger Boned" mom was able to immediately NAME DROP (Connie So and So) to show her importance. Basically, when Bigger Boned mom was invited to parties at Connie's house (and most of the people in the room were not) she got the "inside" scoop on....DESSERTS. Impressive, yes? Bigger boned mom came up with the great idea of taking advantage of a woman that hardly speaks ENGLISH. Awesome idea for a CHURCH FUNDRAISER. Really cool. BTW, when I say "Bigger Boned" for this mom, I mean she was bigger for MUFFIA standards. That means she was probably a good size 8 or 10. It was right after "Big Boned Mom" commentary that my kids screeched: MOM, where do we need to go? Did you find out? Busted. I quickly ask for directions and I RAN away before I caught the eye of a friend of mine. I would have totally busted HER if I made eye contact. My WT Mom sister was doing her very best not to totally ROLL HER EYES at every comment made. WTMs, it's not like I SIT AROUND and try to bag on the muffies. You can't make up this stuff. It's like the BEG me to make fun of them and to tell you guys. I just can't help it......

Invasion of the MUFFIA meeting

2006-06-26T21:38:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Tonight we had pictures for the parish directory. Please keep in mind the following: 1)I take HORRIBLE posed pictures. I am making a statement of fact. More detail later. 2)Our appointment was for 830pm on Monday evening. We had to grab whatever slot we could because, being the WTM that I am, I did not sign up in time to get a reasonable time. More on the hellish picture session later because the headline of the day is this: I broke through a MUFFIA meeting tonight----I was able to overhear several minutes of the VERY IMPORTANT meeting before I was discovered and kicked out. There is a point to this post if you read on. Okay---so we had our appointment tonight for the parish directory. Since I did not sign up when the good times were available, we took our FUN FAMILY PICTURE at 830pm on a Monday night. My husband looked fine. The children looked like "Grapes of Wrath", type of of refugee look since they haven't had a hair cut since April. I NEVER miss my haircuts but have missed a hair weave so I look like "Pepe Lepew" with a big old BROWN root stripe in my hair (otherwise colored o so natural blonde). You get the picture ladies...it was a miracle we showed up. It was a miracle that we actually SHOWED UP-----so having the correct information and actually going to the correct location for the church picture would have taken ANOTHER miracle so OF COURSE we went to the wrong place for the pictures. IT WAS AT THE WRONG PLACE that I was able to crash the MUFFIA MEETING! It made the wrong location so worth it by being able to overhear the meeting. Dig if you will the picture: At 830pm on a MONDAY NIGHT in the SUMMER, there are women that are wearing DESIGNER sportswear. (Shudder). I love sportswear. I love expensive stuff. But I sure as hell am not wearing it if I am going to a meeting with a bunch of people on the "Committee for Sausage" or something equally as important. I am so sorry to cut the post off before giving you detail about the MUFFIA meeting. But I am exhausted and must give you details in the AM. Am going to be better at posting and would you all please give "TACKY PRINCESS" some grief for her lack of posting? I have nagged her repeatedly and it may help if she is "cyber-nagged". Thank you for your patience and I will post the details of the muffia meeting in the AM.

You can take the girl outta the country and more reasons for future therapy

2006-06-20T14:37:00.001-07:00

Dear WTMs, I was raised in a city in the midwest near the Oklahoma/Kansas Border. There were two kinds of music that were available when I was growing up...country AND western. And there were LOTS and LOTS of what people call "Ditch Lillies". I have attached a picture of the ditch lilly that grew everywhere in my hometown. These are great flowers----they grow in the 100 degree, burning heat of summer, they don't need a lot of water and they are virtually impossible to kill. A perfect type of plant for my garden. I like to garden but I am not very good at it. You cannot find "ditch lillies" in a nursery and you really don't see them very much at all where I live now-----but these flowers are my favorites AND they remind me of "home". Every summer, I become obsessed about the ditch lilly plants whenever we travel to see grandma or if we are in the country (like last week to scout camp). I can spot a "ditch lilly" a mile away and I always threaten to stop and dig some up. The girls are so used to me ranting about ditch lillies and talking about how I am going to just stop the car on the highway and dig up a few....they ignore me. However, today, much to my younger daughter's complete horror----I STOPPED THE CAR just off a country road (not the inter-state highway) and DUG UP A FEW "Ditch Lillies" for my yard. FYI: I did not steal them---they were in a DITCH, hence the name, DITCH LILLY. Miss Minnesota/Margarita Girl was DYING. First she begged me to do it when she was "not in the car". She was doubly horrified because her big sister was NOT in the car with us----therefore SHE WAS THE ONLY ONE that had to suffer. I joke about being "WT" but I do have to say that stopping on the side of the road to dig up flowers is kinda WT----but I don't care. I've got my pretty orange flowers and I am planting them tommorrow. AND just because she complained....Miss Minnesota is going to help me. You can take the girl outta the country but you can't take the country outta the girl. Reason No. 457 why my kids will be in therapy.

WTM meets Girl Scout Camp

2006-06-16T08:24:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Sorry for lack of postings this week. I have been at Girl Scout Camp with my older daughter (the future film maker). Her troop and a few other troops in the area are the "helpers" at the little kid Girl Scout camp and then they also have their own camp. They are had a blast and the last day is today. I am not a camper. I like the outdoors but I like my outdoors to be:

70 degrees
Sunny
Bug free

As you can see, I am not the most "hardy" of campers. My older daughter is a total nature girl and loves to be outdoors in the woods. Thank God for my husband who takes her there and who has taught her camping skills. If it had been left up to me, she would only know how to call for Room Service. But "Miss Filmaker" and her buddies were able to help littler scouts as well as start fires (scary) and be in the forest with buddies. They are having a great time. So I helped out with camp. Two of the days I had to take "Miss Minnesota", my 8 year old with me as my "assistant". There is a point here, please read on. At the camp, all the girls have "camp names". They have names that they go by during the week (ex: wildflower or cricket) and at the end of the week the girls reveal their "real names" to the younger campers and to each other. It is part of the fun. I did not have a "camp name" as some of the moms did. I can barely remember my real name so having 39 girls call me some other name would just be useless. Miss Minnesota, since she helped me, had to pick her own camp name as well. Guess what name she picked? Margarita. You know, like the drink. Yes, that's right. My 8 year old chose an ALCOHOLIC DRINK for her camp name! Not a nice animal or flower. I had NO IDEA that she even knew the name Margarita, much less she wanted to be CALLED that name for her camp name. But once she said the name, that was it. So she was MARGARITA at camp. You should have been the wide eyes of the mothers when she proudly told everyone her camp name. I wanted to crawl in a hole. I asked her, after she had blurted out her "camp name" why she chose the name of an alcoholic drink. Her answer: I like the way it sounds. Daddy drinks Margaritas sometimes and he says I will probably like them when I am old enough to have one. Spoken with the logic of an 8 year old. I know that when my husband told her that she would probably like Margaritas, he was not talking about when she was 8. He was talking about when she was 25 or 26! But Miss Minnesota has always been a little ahead of schedule. Naturally, my 12 year old and her buddies thought this was SOOOO FUNNY and encouraged MARGARITA to tell as many grown-ups as possible. It was so much fun! Last day is today. I will report in again after it's over. If someone from camp did not HOTLINE me to social services. Then I won't be able to report until Monday.

Muffia Spy Invades Neighborhood

2006-06-09T07:17:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs My oldest daughter is in a tennis league this summmer. She plays for a local neighborhood pool and tennis place. The tennis league is made up a few country clubs, a few city park tennis clubs and a few neighborhood places. The purpose of this tennis league is to teach kids more about tennis, to get them to play more and to have fun. It is not ultra competitive and the emphasis is on learning the rules of tennis so you can play for life. Our little neighborhood pool and tennis place is kind of a throw back. It's hidden in a neighborhood not far from mine and it's awesome. It is not expensive to join, anybody can join and it's fun to go and hang out there. It is kind of a haven, I have found, for other WT moms and we have done this every summer for the last few years. I am going somewhere with this, I promise you. This week I found that our little WT haven has been invaded by...the Muffia. Right now, I have only seen ONE muffy but like mice, they tend to gather in groups. How did I spot her? Read carefully the list of signs below, WTMs: Number One Sign She was extremely obsessed with the RANKING of each player on the tennis team. She asked about 10 questions about this at the parent meeting to kick off the season. Number Two Sign She watched a few of the girls play a match after the meeting and then immediately went up to several of the moms after this match and tried to arrange a "challenge match" for her precious daughter. Note: The challenge matches are played to determine RANK/SKILL level. She only asked the moms of the younger kids and less skilled kids. Second note: The rules of the tennis league indicate that the CHILDREN WHO PLAY are supposed to set up their own matches. A good way to usually spot a MUFFIA mom is that that mom is doing more for their kid that they are supposed to. Number Three Sign A few of the moms were talking while kids were playing. This mom was very horrified to tell us that she...WORKED PART-TIME. Kind of like it was a disease. My WT pals and I chimed in that yea, we worked too or else no I used to but I don't right now. It's kind of a fact of life in my world, not a chronic disease to be ashamed of. I was 90% sure she was MUFFIA and then this past week, I knew it. See sign number 4. Number Four Sign At the first tournament of the season, I went along to watch. The daughter of the MUFFIA spy kept asking the score keeper mom about RANKING. After listening to the daughter ask endless questions about RANK, this sealed it for me. I knew that a muffia spy has entered our quiet little WT summer oasis. I am not against being competitive. I am competitive and I think that competition is a healthy thing. But when it bugs me and when I think it goes into "MUFFY" territory is when the competitive aspects of a sport (ie: Tennis) override the PURPOSE of the sport's venue (ie: JUNIOR FUN LEAGUE TENNIS). Apparently this mom did not get the memo that this league is a beginners type of thing, designed to have fun and teach the rules and MANNERS that go along with the game. I plan to call an emergency WTM meeting with some of the other moms later this weekend to discuss the spy situation. There will be plenty of beer and cold frozen drinks served at this gathering so that we can better plot: 1)How to turn this mom to the light or 2)Run her out of our oasis. If we can't turn her away from the dark side, we need to drive her out. The muffia rule our schools during the year, I don't want any at my summer hangout. I will update you ladies on this serious situation. Wish me luck.

Beginning of Summer Wars

2006-06-04T05:21:00.000-07:00

Dearest WTMs, Sorry for lame posts last week. I have been deep in the trenches of the Summer Wars. The first two weeks of the vacation are always a little rough for our family. School ends and the girls have the insane idea that:

They have a full-time maid for the Summer (me)
They can play "Off-Road" for Playstation 2 and watch TV all day long
They are entitled to nothing but FUN FUN FUN for the next 90 days

Needless to say, this fantasy world is shattered EARLY in the vacation but I always have to do a little "Boot Camp" type of reality check for the girls at the start of Summer. My behavior modification program is pretty simple, I am sure you are familiar with the methods.

1. Yell alot about how we live in complete squalor. As you scream, use examples of how gross the house is by taking old sandwiches out from under their beds or making them look at all the dog hair in the see-through vacum cleaner.

2. Force them to make piles of items that they have not touched in the last 2 years. If they have not used it, touched it in 2 years, it goes in the Garage Sale pile. Do not be swayed by tears for the broken EZ Bake Oven that Grandma gave them. Either use it, throw it out or sell it at the yard sale. If it is old and nice enough, give it to charity.

3. Forced outside labor. Weeding, helping plant stuff, help with yard work.
4. Repeat some of the things your mom used to say to you. It's really a form of brainwashing but I have found it works nicely to get them out of the fantasy world that my entire job over the vacation is to play "cruise director" for them. My favorite mantras are as follows:

One of the reasons parents HAVE children is so they will do chores! Don't believe me?
Call Mrs._____________(insert name of a WT Mom friend). She'll tell you.
If your attitude continues, we can just start going to 815 mass EVERY DAY. I'd love it.
Where is the phone book? I want to check into Summer School for you guys if you are so bored.
If you are that bored, perhaps you could call Great Aunt Cassie. I'm sure her 17 cats need some attention...you could spend ALL DAY with her. I'll get my keys.
I am sure Susie's mother IS a way nicer mom than me. If you would like to do EVERYTHING Susie does, let's call Susie's mom and get the name of Susie's Oboe teacher. I am sure you'd love that.

I hope you guys don't think I am total beast. I do love having them home, away from schedules of school. But it takes a few weeks to break them into the reality of summer.

Too Much Estrogen in our House

2006-05-26T10:13:00.000-07:00

That's right. You read it right. There's way too much freakin' ESTROGEN in our house. You've got me, of course. Then, there's the Teenaged Princess. And now we've got one On the Brink. My formerly sweet, sits on my lap even though she's way too big, still losing her teeth 11 year old is oh, so close, to joining the ranks of "woman". Lucky girl. So, I need to take a little break from Graduation to go on a little rant (that's your warning, ladies - this is your chance to exit out...). Just look at her sidelong, and she's in tears. Tell her she needs a shower - tears. Remind her to make her bed - waterworks. Offer to fix her hair - tearfest. Even the slightest provocation sets her off. My, oh my, what a dangerous web we weave, WTM's. What was I thinking? Better yet? What was my big strong man thinking - injecting me with the stuff with which to bear two daughters? He's the one that could've provided a little y chromosome. Hell hath no fury like a household with three women on the SAME cycle. This is where we are headed. I've seen friends go through this, and it ain't pretty, believe me. Why me? Why? This may seem trivial to those of you with boys. Oh, I admit, my husband and I used to "chuckle" (to put it mildly...) in wonder (and yes, sometimes disgust) at his brother's boys. They got filthy dirty by 8:30 am every day. The younger of the two was called by his first name each and every time they rushed into the ER with yet another injury. At one point, my sister-in-law was certain DFS would be knocking on their door at any moment to investigate the many "accidents". The boys couldn't keep their fists off of each other. The younger brother was using profanity regularly by the time he was two! They seemed absolutely uncontrollable. We were oh, so happy to have our precious - little - sugarplums. My brother-in-law would scoff right back at us, saying, "Yeah, talk to me when they're 13!" I guess I just didn't believe he knew whereof he spoke. But alas...he SO did. And now he's laughing his ass off. Let me just end this rant with one last thought. I thank God every single day for school uniforms. Without them, my life would be pure and utter hell. ("No, you can't wear that skirt to school...that shirt is too short - it shows half of your stomach...your jeans are too low cut...no spaghetti straps at school...no high heels in 6th grade...I don't care if Allie is wearing her tube top to school today - you're not") And just think of the Queen's daughter - Miss Minnesota! Can you imagine what she'd want to wear to school?! Counting my blessings...1, 2, um...

Differences Between You and the Muffia

2006-05-25T15:02:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, As a part of the on-going, pre-Summer education series, I will continue with the lessons on:

HOW TO SPOT THE MUFFIA during SUMMER VACATION

I think that sometimes the best way to describe that the MUFFIA is, is by showing the differences between "WT" moms (which we all consider normal) and the MUFFIA moms. Situation #1 You are at the pool. Your oldest child is trying to drown his/her younger sibling. WTM Method of Stopping Your Child You quickly turn your head, get up and scream at the top of your lungs at your child, who is at the far end of the pool.

Suzanne (Insert Middle Name Here) Jones!
I swear to God if you touch your sister one more time you will wish you were never born! Don't make me come in there!

MUFFIA Method of Stopping Child You do nothing. You continue to talk to another mom at the pool or read a magazine. You ignore any wrong doing of your child, choosing to ignore the younger siblings cries for help, until another parent or a lifeguard steps in. Or else 911 is called. Situation #2 Your family is at the FUN Summer Block Party. One of your children is either 1)taste testing all the desserts with their nasty, dirty fingers OR 2)is trying to "help" with the BBQ by lighting napkins on fire on the host's front porch WTM Method of Stopping Your Child You scream at your child or children, walking very fast to get to them so you can give them one of the famous smiling but "gritted teeth" little up and close and personal talks.

SCREAMING FROM ACROSS THE BLOCK PARTY---LOUD ENOUGH TO WAKE THE DEAD: JESUS, MARY AND JOSEPH!
AFTER DOING THE WALK/RUN OVER TO THE KIDS AND GRABBING THEM BY THE ARM. USING LOW VOICE AND GRITTED TEETH:
Suzanne (Insert Middle Name Here) Jones-----you KNOW better! What in the HELL are you thinking? Can you tell me that? You are SO dead, do you realize that young lady?

MUFFIA Method of Stopping Child You do nothing. You continue to flirt with Mr. Rankin, the cute single guy with the BMW that lives down the street. He could be "second husband" material, after all! You ignore any wrong doing of your child, letting your kid almost burn down the neighbors house. Is this a clear picture, WTMs? I would love to read your feedback!

Tracking Muffia at 8th Grade Graduation

2006-05-24T20:13:00.000-07:00

OK, the Queen has given you a few survival tips for summer vacation. But I'm still in a time warp. And I know that many of you have not yet reached the end of your school year, as we have. And many of you are not even close (lucky!) to the perils of the 8th grade graduation. But trust me when I tell you. The advice I am about to impart will undoubtedly come in handy. Be it next week, next year or 10 years from now. Mark my white trash words, ladies. You will thank me. So, get out your pens. Warm up your printers. Do whatever it is that psychs you up for getting learnt! 'Cuz' you got it here first...The first installment of... Tracking the Muffia at 8th Grade Graduation No matter what comment comes out of Muffy's mouth during graduation week, you can count on this. It is veiled and not even close to what it first appears to mean. Let's dissect a few of the doozies I heard just last week... Mitzee: "So, your daughter's going to ABC Academy next year?" (ABC could refer to public school, private school, the zoo or even rehab...) Tacky Princess: Yes. She's so excited! Mitzee: "Are you concerned about the ..." (fill in the blank here..."boys, lack of boys, Christianity, homosexuals, drugs, test scores" - you get the picture.) TP: "Um, no, not really. Like I said, she's excited, and we're excited for her. They have a great reputation." Mitzee: "Oh, honey. (looks both ways, like she's going to tell a big secret) 'Cuz' I was reading the other day about how ABC Academy has dropped in ALL - I'm not kidding - ALL - of their test scores." Like I said, it doesn't matter which school you've chosen, she'll just go right in for the kill. Here's another one. Lindeigh: "I saw that Darling Daughter got that award for academic excellence." TP: (guarded) Yes, we're very proud of her. Lindeigh: "She must be a total brainiac!" TP: Well, she's a smart girl, but she works really hard to get the grades. Lindeigh: "Well, yes, when you don't have all those sports and other activities interfering with your study time..." (doesn't matter if she played year-round - just ignore and move on...) And yet another example: Lynda: "Oh, I saw that your daughter made the freshman volleyball/basketball/softball/soccer (whatever!) team at ABC Academy for next year." TP: Yes, she's very excited. (You see how I keep my answers short and to the point?) Lynda: I didn't even know they had a freshman team. TP: (leary, but taking the bait...) Yes, I guess they do. Lynda: My daughter Penny Perfecto went straight to JV, then dressed for Varsity. (Well, yippee kay ay for her!) TP: Wow, that's awesome. Lynda: Yes, and she's on the drill team, pep club and bimbo's society, too! TP: Oh, excuse me, Lynda, I think I see... SOMEONE...(disappear) One more if you're not already asleep...I started this exchange - foolish girl... TP: Hi, Suzi. I saw that your daughter got the President's Citizenship Award this year . That's incredible (especially since she's already slept with half the 8th grade...). Suzi: YES, WE COULDN'T BE MORE PLEASED!!!!! TP: How does one qualify for that? Suzi: Oh, it was a rigorous process. She had to know everyone in the class really well (no kidding...), and she had to be well liked by her peers (both sexes or just the one?). And then, she had to have a good GPA on top of it (so, the fact that she blatantly cheated on every math, science and social studies test wouldn't really come into play, then?). Overall, she just had to be a great kid. TP: Got it. (Run like hell.) OK, this is just the beginning. Next time, look for "Setting Up For the Graduation Party with the Muffies". Oh, yeah, it's a winner. "Should we put the lamps on this side of the table or this one? Let's try it both ways and take a little VOTE. Wait. I think they need a stronger bulb. Does anyone have a 60 watt bulb in their bag?" (Are you kidding me? Oh, yes, I think it's right here next to my WD-40, socket wrench and Clinique Happy!...)

How to Spot the Muffia during Summer Vacation

2006-05-23T14:46:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Since SUMMER is around the corner, I wanted to take a little time off from my usual whining to discuss a very important Summer Survival Skill. How to Spot the Muffia during Summer Vacation
Muffia members do not travel in packs as much in the Summertime. Due to the fact that many "muffys" migrate to cooler or warmer areas of the country, the herd is thinned out a bit, so it can be harder to spot them. But be on guard, WTMs, they are out there in full force and I would like to spend a little time this week preparing you. Today's lesson in Summer Vacation Prep deals with the basic lesson of how to spot the Muffia member, if the evil member is truly alone? Since bullies travel in packs and the status quo of most of these muffia bullies is to stay in large numbers, how can you tell if the mom you are talking to at the baseball game or the pool bbq is MUFFIA? Look for these warning signs: 1. If you see them in the early AM, are they dressed to the nines in full make-up? I not talking just a shower and clean. I am talking full armour, lipstick and curled hair at 8am swim practice or camp. HOWEVER, I know one great WTM friend of mine that has to shower every morning to start her day. She looks great when you see her but it is mostly due to the fact that she is nice and has a warm smile for you. So the full grooming alone is NOT the only sign. Please read on. 2.When you see the "mom" at various events and lessons or summer school, does the "mom"talk a great deal about their really exotic family vacation they are taking? Or how about the "family cabin" at the lake or by the sea? Before you judge too harshly, some of my best friends have lake homes in their families and these gals are as WT as they come. So once again, this sign ALONE is not one to worry about. 3.When your child or children are fighting with each other, being too loud at the movie or making a scene in a public place, how does the "mom" react? Now ladies, THIS is a sign you should pay attention to. If the "mom" looks at you with a superior air or stare----you could be faced with a MUFFIA mother. If the mom laughs and tells you how their kid embarassed the family at church camp----you've probably got yourself a new WT Mom friend. Think about these important facts. More on Wednesday.

The Oxymoron of The Eighth Grade Graduate

2006-05-22T14:00:00.000-07:00

OK, my week from hell is over, and now I officially have a few minutes to breathe. And, of course, to BLOG to you, my WTM comrades! Naturally, as is so often the case with me, once all of the festivities of a really busy week wind down, I find myself sick - again! Who gets a really bad cold this time of year? Moi! My oldest daughter graduated last week. From what you might ask? Well, judging from the pomp and circumstance, one would certainly think it was high school at the very least. But alas, she'll be with us for four more (gulp) teenage years. It was only 8th grade graduation. We'll save the over-the-top festivities for another blog entry. But here, I'll just run thru some of the idosyncracies of being an 8th Grade Graduate (i.e. 14 year old girl) The Oxymoron of the Eighth Grade Graduate:

Too old to ride her bike - too young to drive (thank you, God...)
Too old to visit playgrounds - too young to go park with boys in their lots (ditto above...)
Too old to play with Barbies - too young to dress like one
Too cool to go to the mall with Mom - too young to be dropped off alone
Too hip to go to the movies with Mom and Dad - too poor to go very often with just her friends
Too old to order the kids' meal - too small an appetite to be ordering from the adult menu (it's just not worth it!)
Too old to play in the ball pit at the fast food restaurant - too cool to hang with the parental units instead

I could go on forever. But you know what? I have to figure that if it's hard for me to have a teenage daughter, it has to be oh, so painful to BE the teenage daughter - no matter how well adjusted she is or how perfect her mother is (HA!). The world is so different from when you and I were growing up. We had temptations, yes. But I don't think we had the pressures that teens today face. Not in the same way anyway. One more thought to tease you to keep reading our blog. My next entry will be all about dealing with the Muffia through the trials and tribulations of the Eighth Grade Graduation. You younger moms may want to print it out, laminate it for preservation purposes and tuck it away for future use. Trust me when I tell you. It WILL come in handy!

White Trash Childrens Bedroom

2006-05-19T06:50:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Sorry for not posting alot this week. Have some cool stuff going on that I will be able to tell you about next week. In my last post, I gave you the WTM vs Pottery Barn Kids "Lists for a Child's Bedroom". Just in case you thought I was KIDDING about my offspring and their hellish messy bedrooms, dig if you will a picture of one of the bedrooms. This is a REAL picture of an 8 year old girl's bedroom. This was taken on a typical day and in case you were wondering...we were not the victims of a natural disaster. My youngest daughter, whom I call "Miss Minnesota" here in the blog, can make a clean room into the mess you see in a matter of 10 seconds. As you can see, we purchased the nice and matching furniture for her room. Clearly this was a mistake. We should have purchased some cardboard boxes and a beanbag chair. She is so little and sweet. She looks like an angel. But the child can make any room, particularly her bedroom, into a pit of hell in a matter of seconds. It's her special talent. Please look at this picture and feel superior to me. Have a good Friday!

Pottery Barn Kids Room Checklist

2006-05-16T16:58:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, I got an email from Pottery Barn Kids yesterday. I guess I am still on their mailing list. I thought they had banned me from the mailing list due to blog entries I have written that bagged on the store. And I bagged on the executives that write the little blurbs about their "average" lives. But for now, at least, I am still on the mailing list. Giving me another chance to bag on them. Here is a recent blurb and suggestion list from those wacky folks at "PBK" about how to make your child's room very special. See below: Pottery Barn Kids ROOM CHECKLIST "Create a bedroom for your child that is far more than a place to sleep. Start with the basics, add a few special touches, and it can also be a place to play, study and dream." BEDDING quilt, duvet cover, sheet sets, bed skirt, blankets, comforter FURNITURE bed, dresser,nightstand,armoire,bookshelf,desk & chair ACCESSORIES frames,wall art,wall shelving,storage baskets & bins,rug,window panels,window hardware, lamp,alarm clock Now, please come back with me, from LALA land to the real world. Real World, a la "white trash mom" Children's Room Checklist "Create a bedroom for your child that is not only a place to sleep but also a room to act as a prison cell, when needed. The room has to not only have the child or children in it, but also all of their mountains of stuff. Be sure to put a bed in the room, if the Hot Wheels or Barbie or whatever else they have collected does not take up too much room. BEDDING Use only the nice sheets and bedding that was purchased for the parents room in the children's room. Any nice pillows will especially be used in the children's room...as a cat bed mattress. FURNITURE If the toys/accessories don't take up too much room, get a bed. If you have a desk in the room, pile all kinds of stuff on it---nothing school related of course. Any nice storage baskets should be left empty. ACCESSORIES Any nice matching wall art should be drawn upon or replaced with magazine cut outs that are taped on the wall with scotch tape (so the paint comes off the wall). Used Gum Stash Place all used gum under the desk area or on the headboard of the bed. Halloween Candy Hiding Place Use one of the dresser drawers for something really useful. Hiding the Halloween/Easter/Holiday candy from your mom. The Pit of Hell (aka under the bed) Throw all trash, wrappers, old clothes, new clothes...really just about ANYTHING under the bed.

Due to Muffia Spies, International WTMs

2006-05-15T06:37:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, Due to recent events related to the MUFFIA spies (see post on 4-6-06 MUFFIA SPIES ARE TRACKING ME), I now have STATCOUNTER installed this blog. Statcounter just tells you what web sites referred people to you and also where your readers are coming from (state or city or country people live in). It's not too "Big Brother-ish" but it lets me know more about the WTM bloggers. Most importantly, it lets me see if the MUFFIA spies here in my home base are reading the blog. Thankfully the muffia here in WTM HQ are not reading this blog. I am really not too sure that all of them CAN read but that is a story for another day. I am still glad I installed the statcounter thingy. The information about who is reading the blog is very enlightening! First of all, White Trash Motherhood is quite INTERNATIONAL. Dig if you will the picture: White Trash Motherhood is popular DOWN UNDER. Yes WTMs, for some reason, there is a large group of blog readers from Australia. I have always wanted to visit Australia and this just reaffirms my love of this awesome country! Thank you to the Aussie WTMs. Our Mother Country, the United Kingdom, also has a large base of readers! My friend Sarah, who is British, says that she likes to visit whitetrashpalace.com because it doesn't take itself too seriously. Sarah says that too many Americans just take themselves too damn seriously so it's refreshing to have an American store that isn't "utterly boring". I knew that the whitetrashpalace store had a large UK customer base, due to the catalog requests. I was surprised that the blog has a fair amount of WTM readers! Finally, Finland and Canada have a good share of blog readers. Since Canadian and Americans share so many cultural practices (except that Canadians are nicer, more educated and live in a colder climate) I am not that surprised by the Canadian WTMs. I am very happy but not that shocked. Finland, however, is a kicker. What's up with WTMs in Finland? Party on Finland WTMs!
Second interesting thing I found out, due to the statcounter thingy, is that the blog is getting 800-1,000 readers every day. I am freaking out because while that figure is a drop in the bucket compared to the DOOCE blog, it is a huge number for the white trash mom world! If we keep gathering "converts" to our WTM philosophy of life, we should be able to overthrow the "muffia" far sooner than originally planned.
Raise your coffee cup, your diet coke or whatever you are drinking right now and Let's toast our future...a future where store bought cookies are good enough, school auctions are banned and anyone NOT wearing pajamas at morning drop-off is shunned. AHH. Happy Monday WTMs and thanks for all the great support!

WTM's Mother's Day Observations - The Whale Tail Is NOT WT! It's Just Plain Trashy!

2006-05-14T09:42:00.000-07:00

Ah, Mother's Day. The chance to relax without guilt. Blog, uninterrupted by the little cherubs, whining for their turn (only one computer in our house, besides my hubby's laptop for work...). The opportunity to do whatever it is that you want to do because it is the one day out of 365 that you are allowed to choose how you want to spend your time and money. Sounds ideal, doesn't it? Would that it were true... :) Each year on Mother's Day, I reflect on my Mother's Days from the past. Like the Queen of WT, I, too, lost my mother way too young. She was 62, and I was only 27 at the time. Our first daughter was born just two weeks before she died. In fact, not to be too maudlin here, but I actually had to be induced into labor because my mother was dying, and we needed to fly home to get there before she passed. Yeah, I know. That's a tearjerker. So, just like the Queen, I have mixed emotions on Mother's Day. In church this morning, a wave of sadness came over me so strongly, it nearly knocked me off my feet. Tears in my eyes, I was contemplating excusing myself to the ladies room to avoid the embarrassment of crying for no apparent reason. And then, it happened. The comic relief that I so sorely needed. I was looking down, willing the tears to go away. Through the blur of the tears, what did I see but the distinctly rounded cheeks of the young lady in front of us. By "cheeks", you understand, I mean butt cheeks. OMG. In church. OK, so the point here is that she had on a pair of gauchos (or split skirt or whatever you want to call it...) and had her thong on underneath. Naturally, since the thong went straight up her butt, the clingy knit fabric proceeded to do likewise, and there she was, standing in Mass, with her cheeks protruding like two ripe melons on either side of her proverbial crack. You could even see the outline of the whale tail through the filmy knit fabric. Do you know about the whale tail phenomena? I only recently learned about it. In case you, too, need enlightening, here's how www.urbandictionary.com defines it. "The whale tail is the shape formed when a thong or g-string rides up high over a woman's trousers." OK, so in this case, the thong wasn't sticking out of her clothes, at least. But the fact that you could make it out through her clothes, coupled with the fact that her butt cheeks were sticking out all over the place with nothing between them and the fabric of the gauchos was just so GROSS! Her mom must have been SO PROUD! At the risk of sounding like a fuddy duddy to you younger WTM's, I'm sorry, but...the whale tail is NOT WT. It's just plain trashy. Any questions? Still blinking back the tears, I had to stifle a major GUFFAW! Talk about the emotional roller coaster. It reminded me of pregnancy (alternating between laughter and tears with absolutely no warning whatsoever). So, that started my day in a weird sort of way. For a while, it seemed that our Mother's Day "tradition" was going to be that Dad was out of town. At one point, when our kids were still awfully little, my big strong man was gone three consecutive years. Business two years in a row, followed directly by his brother's 40th birthday the year after that. Needless to say, he was in the doghouse for this. On one such occasion, when our youngest daughter was just a toddler, I woke at 6:45 am to find a camouflaged version of her peering at my bedside (eerie experience if you haven't yet been down this road...). Wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I asked her what on earth she had all over her face (and hands, chest, nightgown, etc.), to which she replied, "I squeezed it!" Turns out she had climbed on top of a chair, on top of the desk in the kitchen, and reached the very top shelf of the cabinet to get to the blue FOOD COLORING. Then, my little angel took it to her room where she proceeded to SQUEEZE it all over her carpet. Ah, those were the days. Then, there was the year, I came home from my exercise class on the Saturday of Mother's Day weekend, knowing that my husband was planning something out of the ordinary - some sort of MD surprise, if you will. You know, to atone for all those times in the past when he was OOT. My mind was reeling. What could it be? A day of beauty of some sort? Massage? Spa? Pedicure? Manicure? All of the above? Nope! I walked in the door, spent from my workout, sweat still dripping from my forehead. Holding four tickets up in the air, he and the kids cried out, "Surprise! We're ready to go to the amusement park whenever you are!" Uh huh. The amusement park. You know. Where you relax with the 10,000 other people and their screaming children. Sounds divine, honey! Yes, Mother's Day. The day that is like no other. The day where the family honors the one who does so much for them on a daily basis. We do have a couple of steadfast traditions, though. We go to a big brunch, with extended family. This I truly do enjoy. And a few years ago, I became one of the coolest moms ever by declaring that on Mother's Day each year, we'd have dessert for dinner - i.e. Coldstone Creamery or some such fair. Never mind that when dinnertime rolls around, we are still full from brunch. We manage to scarf down some tantalizing sweet treat anyway. After all, it's tradition!

Ther Perfect Mother by Erma Bombeck

2006-05-12T13:46:00.000-07:00

Dear WTMs, It has been kind of a bad week, one of those weeks that things just go wrong. On Friday, the last day of this hellish week, I was faced with the following:
1)The home phone was turned off. Because I forgot to pay the bill. Shit. Was turned back on 30 minutes later but I was pissed at myself for being a loser. 2)There was no underwear to speak of, for me to wear, so today I was forced to go...commando. 3)It is the weekend before Mother's Day and I always miss my mom alot on this weekend. She died of cancer in 2000 and Mother's Day still gets me. I knew I had to do something...so I turned to my WTM role model, the White Trash Mom that started it all...ERMA. I blogged about Erma Bombeck's column, "The Perfect Mother", in September 2005. Sorry if this is a re-run for some of you. I just needed the reminder today and thought that maybe some of you would like it. Again. From her book "Motherhood--The Second Oldest Profession". Have a great Mother's Day! The Perfect Mother “ by Erma Bombeck Everyone said Sharon was a terrific mother. Her neighbors said it. Sharon painted the inside of her garbage cans with enamel, grew her own vegetables, cut her own grass every week, made winter coats for the entire family from remnants, donated blood and baked Barbara Mandrell a doll cake for her birthday. Her mother said it. Sharon drove her to the doctor’s when she had an appointment, color-coordinated the children’s clothes and put them in labeled drawers, laundered aluminum foil and used it again, planned family reunions, wrote her Congressman, cut everyone’s hair and knew her health insurance policy number by heart. Her children’s teacher said it. She helped her children every night with their homework, delivered her son’s paper route when it rained, packed nutritious lunches with little raised faces on the sandwiches, was homeroom mother, belonged to five car pools and once blew up 234 balloons by herself for the seventh grade cotillion. Her husband said it. Sharon washed the car when it rained, saved antifreeze from year to year, paid all the bills, arranged their social schedule, sprayed the garden for bugs, moved the hose during the summer, put the children on their backs at night to make sure they didn’t sleep on their faces, and once found a twelve-dollar error on a tax return filed by H & R Block. Her best friend said it. Sharon build a bed out of scraps left over from the patio, crocheted a Santa Claus to cover the extra roll of toilet paper at Christmastime, washed fruit before her children ate it, learned to play the harpsichord, kept a Boston fern alive for a whole year, and when the group ate lunch out, Sharon always figured out who owed what. Her minister said it. Sharon found time to read all the dirty books and campaign against them. She played guitar at evening services. She corresponded with a poor family in Guatemala…in SPANISH. She put together a cookbook to raise funds for a new coffee maker for the church. She collected door to door for all the health organizations. Sharon was one of those women blessed with a knack for being organized. She planned a “theme party” for the dog’s birthday, made her children elaborate Halloween costumes out of old grocery bags and her knots came out just right on the shoelaces when they broke. She put a basketball hoop over the clothes hanger as an incentive for good habits, started seedlings in a toilet paper spindle, and insulated their house with empty egg cartons, which everyone else threw away. Sharon kept a schedule that would have brought any other women to her knees. Need twenty-five women to chaperone a party? Give the list to Sharon. Need a mother to convert the school library to the Dewey Decimal System? Call Sharon. Need someone to organize a block party, garage sale or a school festival? Get Sharon. Sharon was a SUPER MOM! Her gynecologist said it. Her butcher said it. Her tennis partner said it. Her children… Her children never said it.
They spent a lot of time with Rick’s mother, who was always home with them and who ate cookies out of a box and played poker with them.

Forget Summer Camp - How About A Little Child Labor?

2006-05-12T10:48:00.000-07:00

OK, sorry, WTM's. I have been on a little hiatus for the last couple of weeks, it seems. Good thing the Queen has been there for you. Loved the blog about overscheduling our kids in the summer. I, too, wish we could get back to the time when we played with the Roly Poly's, turned fireflies into "rings" (eeeooww!), played kick the can in six uninterupted yards (no fences) until it was so dark we could no longer see well enough to play and had to wash our feet before we could get into our own beds in the evening (God forbid we took a bath - that's what the pool was for the very next morning - ha!). But that's not all. My childhood experience may have been a little different that yours. My mother was a golfer. I mean a really incredible golfer. After my brothers went off to college, my sister and I would often wake up to the note on the kitchen table from Mom. My friends couldn't believe it was for real until I showed them one. The note went something like this...in her beautiful scrolling cursive, of course...

Girly-Q's (or "Cindy-rella's", or "Sweetiepies" - you get the picture...),

I'm at the links. Please plan to do the following while I'm gone...

Weed the hedge (don't forget to crawl behind the fitzers, too)
Wash windows for one hour (vacuum the tracks!)
Polish silver for one hour

Chicken salad in fridge for lunch.

Have fun! See you after about 3 pm.

Love, Mother

Now, my mom wasn't one of those who had two or three martinis after her round of golf (which MANY of the ladies did). In fact, she was such a serious golfer, she might even practice on the range after playing 18 holes. Then, she'd buzz into the store and pick up some hamburger to grill for dinner and maybe grab some corn on the cob to go with it. Add some buns, the iceberg lettuce salad with Dorothy Lynch dressing and some strawberries over vanilla ice cream for dessert, and that was dinner - at least twice a week.

So, back to the note. Yes, we really did get notes like that ALL THE TIME! And yes, we really did have to do those things. And yes, we did survive. We grumbled here and there. But you know what? I know an awful lot of women who can't wash their own windows to save their lives. And when they try to, they look like crap. My mother's standards were grueling, to put it generously. SO - we knew the silver had better be gleaming. And man, was there a lot of it. They gave silver as prizes in golf tournaments all the time, and she won a gazillion of them!

Now, don't think I had this horrible mother. She didn't make us do ALL the work. She was like the Energizer Bunny, whirling through the house, getting things done. She could fix a toilet, work on the electrical and mow the lawn - all in the same day. And she still had time for her cocktail on the patio before dinner. But I'm waxing poetic here...In any case, we got to go to the pool and play tennis and stuff like that, too. We just had to "contribute". So, I'm here to tell you that not only do we NOT need to overschedule our kids in the summers, a little hard labor won't kill them, either. I'm not kidding. It will make them better people. I have a family member who has told me she thinks they were too easy on their kids - didn't make them do enough.

Bag that. Make them help with the housework. Teach them to run the washer (and work on making a dent in Mt. Washmore...). Teach them that when they tell you they're bored, you will most certainly find something for them to do! They may not like it. They may complain. But you'll be raising better people for it. Sure, there'll still be plenty of time for lemonade stands, chasing butterflies, feeding the ducks at the pond, riding bikes all over the place. And they'll appreciate those things more, too. And let's get our kids OFF the Playstation and computer and OUTSIDE - especially while it's still pleasant and not a freakin' steam bath!

So, yeah, forget about signing up Jack and Jill for all the hottest classes. But don't forget the life lessons that can be learned at home thru a little child labor. And then, they'll better enjoy the time for jumping on the tramp, finding turtles in the pond, searching for arrowheads at Uncle Ned's farm, and staying up so late they think they deserve a medal. Those are the things they'll remember forever. Am I right?