free (fringes) love

{So it turns out I broke the internetz trying to get this link to work.  Anyway, read on, and please visit free fringes to participate in Lovelinks #8.  You can still link your post here, but we won't see the pretty thumbnails!  Erica has promised me a hosting gig AFTER my switch to WordPress, which is now imminent - stupid Blogger...}

I have a confession to make:

I have a secret crush.

I can’t help it.  My crush makes me feel special.  My crush makes me feel like what I have to say is interesting and important.  My crush also makes other small blogs feel the same way.

So I guess my crush is kind of a blog hussy.

But that’s okay.  There’s enough love to go around, isn’t there?

Erica at free fringes is the creator and fabulous host of Lovelinks - a brilliant new feature that highlights the smaller blogs (like mine!) and brings them together with fabulous readers who will help spread the love - or at least make you feel a little less lonely.  

AND it's easy peasy to get involved by linking your favorite posts of the week that could use the love: either someone else's or your own, then vote on your favorites.  

Winners will receive a fabulous button and bragging rights for the week (sorry, a years' supply of macaroni is not included.)

I am flattered to have won Lovelinks #7 (acceptance speech?  I can barely get a sentence posted!)  So I was bestowed the honor of hosting this week's Lovelinks #8

Want one of these?  Then link up!

Give us your best post of the week, or share with us your favorite obscure posts from when you were just messing around instead of working on that spreadsheet.

Submissions are open beginning at midnight Tuesday (5/24) until midnight, Thursday (5/26) then the fun begins:

1. Visit as many links as humanly possible

2. Leave relevant comments on your favorites

3. Come back and vote for the one you loved the most - voting is open until midnight Saturday (5/28) then the winner will be revealed!

4. Don't be mean or stingy: Karma will bring you back as a cockroach

What are you waiting for?  Click below to link up (and stop making me look bad, or Erica won't let me play with her stuff anymore!) 

[Edited by Erica M---for your link to work, you'll need to add this hyperlink somewhere in your post: lovelinks #8. Just something like: this post was lovelinked this week at lovelinks #8. Very simple]

The Mommy Has Two Faces

                 or

We can’t ALL be June Cleaver, but we can act like her.  Publicly, at least.  These are a few of my confessions (your results may vary):

::~::

At the tee ball field:  "Sweetie, you can't help your team if you're laying in the dirt - you gotta stand on the base, you silly goose!"

On the way home:  "I can't believe you spent the entire game laying in the dirt!  I'm not coming to another game ever again!  Now you'll never play for the Red Sox!"

::~::

The In-laws hear all about the lovely salmon dish that you slaved over for their grandchild's birthday dinner, because that's what your precious baby wanted.

They do not hear about the rest of the week's menu, which was comprised mostly of Ramen soup and frozen pizza.

::~::

On 'Pajama Day' at school, every child is wearing freshly laundered, rip-free PJ's that are as cute as a button!

At home, fleece tops and bottoms are found, but it must be explained to the protesting child that it really is okay to wear a Lego Star Wars top with Super Mario Brothers bottoms.

::~::

Lunch for school is lovingly prepared, and contains the following items:  a sunflower butter and banana sandwich on 100% whole wheat bread, with apple slices and an organic milk box.

Lunch at home is a can of Spaghetti-O's dumped in a bowl and nuked for 90 seconds, 

and may or may not be served with a cup of coffee.

::~::

On school days, the kids always have on clean underwear.

On non-school days, they are just as likely to be going 'commando.'

::~::

C’mon, fess up!  I can’t be the only one...

Reboot

Okay, so I took a little *break* and I feel like I have some ‘splainin’ to do.

Sometimes, I have these weird panic attacks.

They start out in the pit of my stomach - where the little butterflies start flittering.

Sometimes the butterflies grow.  And grow.  And grow.

Until they turn into something different.

When that happens, things start to go awry.

The shame of it is, that nervous, tweaked-out energy usually translates into some of my best material - I’m pretty funny in calamity!  But I can’t get it together enough to concentrate on any one thing for longer than a nano-second.

The kids generally don’t realize I’m in mid-crisis;  partly because I try not to visibly freak out, if at all possible.

And partly because they make me screamy anyway.

Normally, Derek’s there to talk me down from the imaginary ledge, and I can get back to a place where I can function normally.  At least for a little while.  At least until the next one happens.

I can’t figure out why they come and go the way they do, and usually I can work through them, but sometimes, they just get a little too big and demand attention. 

Kinda like a third child.  Or worse, a second husband.

So I do what I can to make it through, until the anxiety decides to retreat back to it’s dark little cave.  Although that periodically takes some creativity on my part.  This time, I needed something a little crazy to get back to “normal.”

So naturally, I dyed some of my hair purple.

I feel much, much better now...

Technical Difficulties

After a series of mini panic attacks, I was happy to have ridden the wave and come out relatively unscathed.

Then the ‘big one’ came rumbling through.

Luckily, Derek was there to talk me down from the proverbial ledge, and the anxiety has ebbed back down to a low ‘hum.’

Still, while the *humming* continues, I feel like I need to take a step back from a few things and focus on getting the beast back in it’s cage.

So while I am basket-weaving, hiding in my closet and talking to my dog, I hope you’ll bear with me here.

I’ll still be lurking around, trying to re-work a few things and stay in the loop, but right now, I kinda feel a little like this:

Thanks to everybody for your awesome support and understanding...

~ Chris xx

Mother's Day for the Behaviorally Challenged

I like to think I’m fairly low-maintenance.  I don’t require endless hair and nail appointments.  I rarely go on ‘shopping excursions,’ and I do not expect flowers and lavish gifts on Valentine’s Day.  Because of this, I think my family feels they get a free pass to put in minimum effort on every front.

Normally, I don’t mind.  I don’t care if I’m catered to on my birthday or anniversary.  And it’s no big deal if I don’t get showered in adoration for the posh birthday parties I throw for the kids (although a "thank you" would be nice.)  But there is one deal-breaker:

Mother’s Day.

I will cook, clean, wipe bums and make beds every single day of the year.  But not that day.  So, although I don’t expect to be lavished in expensive baubles this Mother’s Day, there is a short list of things I do expect:

 1. Make your own bed.

You can do it.  I know you can. Even though this is a service that is usually provided for you, it really doesn’t take much effort to pull up a sheet and quilt in an orderly and wrinkle-free fashion.  And don’t forget the pillows.

2. Mediate your own arguments.

I will not play the role of arbitrator today.  The easiest way to avoid any need for a referee is if each person plays with/touches only his/her own stuff.  It’s also helpful to avoid any contact or personal interaction with any other family member.  If a disagreement over a certain toy/activity cannot be avoided, go see your father.  Just know that he will probably throw away the toy in question, or ban said activity from ever happening again (up to and including playing anything in the house.)

3.  Be your own medic.

Unless there is the possibility of limb amputation, I will not be attending to any cuts, bumps, scrapes or bruises.  Please be careful.  Also, if amputation does become an issue, go see your father.  He may have the bedside manner of Nurse Ratched, but he will be the one to take you to the urgent care.

4.  Do not disturb my nap.

On this day, I plan to take a nap, by myself, in peace and quiet.  This plan will require certain adjustments to your behavior (see 2 and 3 above.)  In addition, there is an expectation on my part that you will use your inside voice.  I realize that an inside voice may not fulfill my wish for a peaceful rest, so it may be wise to implement the “Irish whisper.”  Also, not talking at all is an option you may want to consider.

5.  All stabby toys should be removed from my bed.

This is essential for the implementation of number 4 above, and should not require any further explanation, however, an illustration is provided below:

What would make your Mother’s Day perfect?

Stop Making It So Easy, Gwyneth!

So, in a recent interview, Gwyneth Paltrow explained away her critics, detractors and downright haters by saying this:

“I think my work ethic is the reason why I'm successful. I think that a lot of people don't want to put in effort and it's easier to not change, not do something good for you, not work on your relationship, not make yourself a meal, not work out. [They're just] pissed off at someone else doing that.”

Turns out, that is not a great way to make friends and influence people.

You might upset the commoners.

It’s not that Gwynnie is without achievement.  She’s an Oscar winning actress, cookbook author, and budding singer.  Not to mention a deliriously happy wife and mother of two.

Oh, and did I forget to include that she is also the proud parent of a website that offers it’s readers advice about what to cook, where to go, what to buy, what to do, and what to see?  Micromanage your supporters much?

She seems to think that with a little hard work and gumption, these things are attainable for everybody.  If we would just get off our collective asses and stop focusing our attention on bitching about her.  (And for Cripes sake, do a colon cleanse once in a while you nasty bitches!)

The thing is, when you’re born on third base and helped along in your acting career by your ‘Uncle Steven” (Spielberg,) in your foray into publishing by ‘Dad’ (famous TV director Bruce Paltrow,) and nudged forward to a singing stint by the ‘hubs’ (Coldplay frontman Chris Martin,) it’s kinda hard to hit a foul.

All that aside, I think the worst offense is that she’s applauding herself for working out, cooking healthy family meals, juggling her career and raising her children in a nurturing environment.  Isn’t that what the rest of us do every day?  Without nannies?

Alas, she takes her critics with a grain of salt because, according to her, 

“We live in a world now where everybody is able to express their opinion, and If everyone has an opinion then no one has an opinion. Ultimately, it's not about me.”

So if we’re not born into fame and/or wealth and have the audacity to express our opinion, it ruins it for the rest of you.  Well played, Gwyneth.  Well played.

I may not be ‘better’ than Gwyneth - my kids eat the occasional Happy Meal, I am known for running out the door without a proper preening, and most days the only exercise I get is in the form of vacuuming and making beds.

But at least I’ve never called my dead grandmother a c*nt. ***

(***her comment is about 4 mins in)