On probation

As I mentioned to my friends on facebook this week "if I worked for me I would fire me."  I have had a job since I was 14.  My first job was at a family fish & chips restaurant.  I had to wear what I called "the English Wench" uniform that bound and lifted my ta tas up into a ridiculous mound of cleavage (I wonder if I could still get one of those...).  Every woman that worked there just happened to be fairly well endowed.  It used to completely gross me out when the horny old guys would come in on Sundays and stare down my top while they ordered their clam strips.

I went from that job to the best high school job EVER - working at a music store.  I always had a job in college working for various professors and offices.  After college and graduate school I went right to work and worked hard.  My point in all of this is that I have a work ethic, a very strong work ethic.  I just haven't quite figured out how to transfer this work ethic to my house.  Therefore, I live in a shithole.

When I was managing people I learned something very valuable that I have referred to time and time again.  When you ask someone that works for you to do something and it doesn't happen there are only two possible reasons:  1.  They don't know how.  2.  They don't want to.  I know how to clean a toilet, do the laundry, sort through old things, file bills, clean the basement, etc. etc.  I guess the bottom line is that I truly, sincerely don't want to.  But this isn't working.  I have signed up for our current division of labor.  My husband works hard.  He makes plenty of money.  I am not holding up my end of this deal.  He of course doesn't say this.  There is the occasional unspoken look around the crap or question of when was the last time the sheets were washed, but he really doesn't give me a hard time about it.

I know how to manage people.  I know how to prioritize.  I know how to meet deadlines.  So I am officially putting myself on probation.  Each week I am going to set some specific goals of accomplishment around my house and post them here for all to see.  I will let you know if I meet my terms.  

I need a good consequence if I don't meet my terms.  I think it will be letting my husband in on this if I can't do it myself and asking him to help hold my toes to the fire.  That would be humiliating enough to do the trick.

You know you're the mom of boys when...

You walk into the bathroom to get them out of the tub and one of them has sheathed "it" in an empty M & M minis tube and it's pointing straight at you.

Double your pleasure

The other week (a.k.a. the week of the plummah) I had my own plumbing issues.  It seems that as I age, Aunt Flo is coming with more of a vengeance.  It's like my body is in payback mode for the 5+ years I was either pregnant or nursing and didn't have a period.  So between the plumbing debacles and the monthly visitor I had a big Ghostbusters sign up "down there" (thanks Jodi).  Which caused my husband, who for the record is 10,000 times more funny than me, to make the statement "women need two vaginas."  This in turn has caused me to giggle and fantasize about that possibility ever since.

My husband of course made this into a football analogy.  He says it would be akin to having two running backs in  your backfield.  One is your no-glory, workhorse.  Gets only the short carries but does the job and does it well.  The other is your end-zone loving showboat.  When you need a big, bring-down-the-house return, he (she)'s your man.

This analogy didn't quite work for me, so of course I had to give them personalities.  I fully admit these personalities are complete ethnic stereotypes and are purely for illustrative purposes.  

Think about if you really did have two?  One you could keep nice and pretty, like your favorite party dress.  The other would be like your most comfy pair of jeans and Cosco fleece top.  This is one thing that men just cannot relate to.  Our parts do a hell of a lot of heavy lifting.  Theirs?  Peeing and screwing.  Puh-leaze.  Think of it in terms of nature; what has more going on, a stick or a burrow?

Meet Olga and Kiko

Olga

Olga used to be a russian gymnast, now she just coaches.  She is strong like bull.   She handles all things that come her way stoically and without complaint, for Olga is built to last.  Olga is not unattractive (still has good bone structure) but is more about function than form.

Kiko

Kiko is all milk and honey.  She is the delicate lotus flower.  She is meticulous and always perfect.  But behind closed doors, Kiko is a little bobcat.

I would divide their job responsibilities as follows:

Kiko:

Wedding Night

Vacation sex (every other day, Olga can sub in)

Daytime sex

Doctor appointments

Date Night

Olga:

Childbirth

Aunt Flo

Quickies

Spin Class

Drunken sex (either partner)

Horseback riding

Tight jeans

Going to the beach

Any of the "i's" (irritation, itchiness, infection)

But sadly of course we all only have one.  And mine is not named Olga or Kiko, her name is Jaime Sommers.  But that's a story for another day.

Baby boy

Five years ago to the hour my 9 1/2 lb.  son was remodeling my vagina from the inside out.  I savored every minute (after that part).  I inhaled him.  I broke all my sleeping, nursing, and scheduling rules with him.  I studied every detail of his perfect face and body to remember each stage.  And it still went too fast.

Happy Birthday baby boy.  Mama will be in her closest sobbing for the next few hours.

Song lyrics - Part deux

I got some great mistaken song lyrics from some friends on facebook that I thought I'd pass on for a good chuckle.

Remember AC/DC "Dirty Deeds done dirt cheap?"  Oh no, that was "Thunder Chief and the dirty feet."

Or a little trip to 1977 with the Bee Gees, "More than a woman."  She was actually "Bald headed woman."

Rock out with some White Zombie to "More Human then Human" and you're actually bangin' to "More Human Vacuum Man."

CCR fan?  When "There's a bad moon risin" keep in mind "There's a bathroom on the right."

And who can forget the favorites that need no explanation:

"Hold me closer Tony Danza" and "Secret Asian Man."

My kids have added a new one this week.  From Madonna and Justin Timberlake's (pant pant) "We've only got 4 minutes to save the world" the chorus where Justin says "Madonna, Madonna" is of course "McDonald's, McDonald's."  My 8 year old completely cracked me up when he said, "if you only have 4 minutes to save the world, WHY ARE YOU STILL SINGING?"  Logical boy.

Weekend Update

Whew!  What a week right?  It's been really hard for me to sit down and write this week for so many reasons.   Part of me felt that with the monumental changes going on in our country it was almost disrespectful to write about the silly, unimportant crap I normally write about.  And, I've been "giving of myself" this week at my son's school which has taken an enormous amount of time and energy.  I'm in a place of trying to figure out how to make the most of my time & talents that contributes to my family and the world at the same time.  Anyone out there have suggestions?  I'm all ears.

I have figured out a few things.  Fitness is a passion of mine, specifically yoga, spinning and training.  I need to do something with this.  I have been talking forever about getting certified to teach spin and finally did it.  I'm doing the training on February 7th!  Very excited and terrified about teaching.  I have no problem speaking in front of thousands of people, but the thought of leading a spin class of 30 peeps freaks me out!  What if I hyperventilate and fall off the bike?  What if I fart?

I've also been teaching yoga at my son's school during indoor lunch periods.  This has been amazing.  Last week I had 40+ third graders in a hallway doing yoga and they were SILENT.  I am not shitting you.  I have some girls in my classes that are my absolute inspiration to keep coming back.  These are mostly african american girls who have never done yoga but are completely into it.  I watch them getting into the poses, the relaxation, the connection of mind/body/breathing and it touches me.  They say things like "I can feel myself getting stronger already" and "I love the third eye, it's so relaxing" and thank me so sincerely for coming and want to know EXACTLY when I'm coming back.  I hadn't ever considered being a yoga teacher, but after this experience I just might.  

The other thing I've figured out is that I do love to write and I love to make people laugh.  When someone makes a comment on my blog that I made them laugh out loud, it absolutely carries me through the day.  That's the other reason that I haven't blogged much this week, I just haven't felt funny.  I've felt reflective.  I'm sure this won't last.

I would like to say thanks to everyone that comes and visits this blog.  It has been a gift to me to have this place to air my silliness, stories, fears and bitches.  Politically, I am an Independent and don't align myself with either extreme of the spectrum.  But I do sincerely believe one thing that our new President talks about frequently and that is that we are all in this together.

I'm ready.

Thank you Mr. President.

My son just got home from preschool.  I still have the inauguration on television.  He just yelled from the living room "Ian wants to be President."  Ian is the only African American kid in my son's class.

I hadn't cried today, until now.