I Could Change the World.

I’m not very political. Being blue-state born, red-state bred and living in a swing-state known for its purple pride and purple rain, I usually find myself torn in an election year. I do, however, aspire to change the world – you know – on that elusive day when I have more time.

Besides my lofty aspirations, I suffer (like many women) with tremendous guilt. Every once in awhile my guilt moves me to act. For example, ever since last week when I was whining about garbage day, I have been feeling the need to compensate for my pitiful whining with pro-environmental action. According to this site if I tell two friends about all these easy things we can do to save energy, and they tell two friends…, we can have a cleaner environment in a mere 32 days. Check it out. They have some great tips.

It’s not Thursday. No garbage today. So, I figured I could take 20 minutes and try to do something positive. I have a little time because the kids are watching TV. On two separate TV’s. In two separately heated rooms with the lights on. Waiting for me to get off my computer and cook their lunch in the oven I started pre-heating twenty minutes ago. Before we drive 40 miles to my part-time job.

Posted in Ranting and Whining | |

I Hate Garbage Day.

It’s garbage day. Like most American families we produce more than our share of garbage – diapers, juice boxes and the like. On garbage day the trash disappears from my life (which I like) to become just another contribution to the world’s environmental concerns (which bothers me a little). Like most of my lofty aspirations, I figure – “hey, someday, when I have a little more time, maybe then I will do my part to decrease our contribution to the wastefulness.”

But I don’t have time. Especially on garbage day. My children get up 45 minutes to one hour earlier on garbage day. Garbage trucks and garbage truck drivers are loud. Their loudness is amplified in comparison to the relative quietness of the homes on my street at the ungodly hour at which they take my garbage.

This hour to 45 minutes is my time. You know – to do things like drink my coffee and read magazines. Or post on this blog. Or catch up on my pop culture news. When I don’t get this time our whole entire life-balance is off. This happens every Thursday.

Maybe if the garbage truck would come one hour later I could spend that time saving the environment. Probably, though, I would just drink another cup of coffee. At least today I didn’t go to Starbucks and get it in a paper cup.

Posted in Ranting and Whining | |

The World’s Worst Invention

There was a time when I could choose a grocery store or shopping venue by considering its selection and quality of items. I could examine the price-to-value ratio of toiletries and the freshness of produce before choosing where to spend my hard-earned dollars. I could mull over my route from work to home and determine which establishment would be the most efficient and convenient stop on the way.

Those days of smart shopping are gone. The only factor in my life now: What kind of carts do they have? Do those carts accommodate small children, and do they do it in a way that will lend to a peaceful and quick shopping experience? Attention store marketing people: You can charge twice as much for your groceries if you provide shopping carts with little two-seated cars underneath.

On the other hand, if you are going to offer the worst invention ever – you should be forced to give away your groceries. What is the worst invention ever? Miniature carts for the kids to push around the store.

I dragged the troupe in for a “quick stop at the store” this morning, and they spotted them immediately. This was exciting. We were all aflutter. “Mom, we can help you.” It will be so fun. Though I recognized the potential for disaster immediately, there was no turning back.

And so it began – during our fifteen minute excursion we had: one cart tipped over and spilled as a result of a hasty attempt at cornering; two major meltdowns over who “won” the cart race from the hamburger to the milk; three very painful run-ins with my Achilles; and several pitiful glances that spoke “how many children does she have anyway?” and “why can’t she keep them under control?” The result? A highly stressed-out mommy with one less place to shop.

Posted in Ranting and Whining | |

How Sean Astin Ruined My Day.

I operate in the happy delusion that as my children age, parenting is going to get easier. After all, what could be more difficult than trying to navigate Target with an infant, a two year old in hysterics, and a potty training preschooler? This delusion propels me through those rough times when I’m just not sure I have the physical or mental capacity to change one more diaper. DEEP DOWN, I have probably always known that as my children age the challenges won’t disappear, they’ll just change. Surely I’ve heard that warning from friends slightly further down the road. But I like to put important realizations in the far back recesses of my consciousness where they can wait until I have the emotional ability to process them. Which was not today…

Which brings me to the story of how Rudy sent me into a panic. I was enjoying my morning coffee – before the three awoke – perusing the new Family Circle (no judgments people, I used to read Cosmo, but life changes; I haven’t always driven a minivan either). Mr. Astin gave an interview in this month’s FC about parenting his three lovely daughters (god bless him) ages 1, 4, and 9. One of the challenges he cites – answering tough questions.

Now let me pause here to say that I have noticed that the questioning phase begins around age 4. Lately I have been fielding some good ones about death, gender and religion. My favorite recent inquiry “If Jesus is a boy, why does he have all that long blonde hair?” And priding myself on the “honest-but age-appropriate” mantra I learned in all my reading, I have been secretly starting to plan how I will answer the baby-making questions when they start to come.

However I was not (and am not) prepared for the one Rudy threw out in his interview. (I would provide a link to it, but it’s not online. Check it out at the very back of this month’s FC.) Apparently one of his children (presumably the oldest) has actually posed the question: “What is an orgasm?” Let’s just let that sink in for a moment. Yep. Orgasm.

So let me get this straight… while I am blogging and blathering on about how to say the word “vagina” to my 3 year old; Samwise Gamgee is telling me that six years from now I am going to have to tell her about the Big O. How do you even answer that? “Well, sweetie, if you haven’t figured it out before you get married, we definitely need to talk??” And is the answer different for girls and boys? I can (sort of) envision fashioning a response for my daughter, but what if my sons ask? Am I even qualified to tell them? And is this really something I should teach them? All kidding aside, can’t they just learn about this stuff from their friends on the playground?

Those are just a few of the questions that were running through my head before 7 am. Thank you very much to Family Circle and Sean Astin for bringing this issue to the forefront of my mind at such an early hour. After the fleeting thoughts briefly took over my brain, I successfully pushed them back into those recesses. Maybe I can do this diaper thing for just a little while longer after all. Maybe there’s no rush for them to grow up too fast.

What questions are you/have you been most freaked out to answer?

Posted in Ranting and Whining | |