Tag Archives: single mom

God speaks.

I’m sitting in the livingroom, just outside the bathroom, where MP has been for awhile. She calls to me in her best deep voice.

MP: Hello? Mommypie? This is God speaking.

ME: Hi God.

MP: Your little daughter … has … peed … like … a … boy.

(Mommypie gets up and runs to the bathroom.)

ME: What?!? (scanning the area around the toilet) You didn’t. DID YOU?!?

MP: (smiling) I was just joking.

(Mommypie exhales and exits the bathroom.)

MP: That wasn’t God talking either.

16 Comments

Filed under Piecing it Together, Uncategorized

I know there’s a lesson in here somewhere.

Once a month I volunteer at a local elementary school. United Way provides an after-school program for kids whose parents have to work, and I help out with whatever they may need that day. Sometimes it’s helping kids with homework, sometimes it’s playing with them on the monkey bars.

This week, as I’m pulling up to the school, I see flashing lights in my rear view mirror. Totally taken off guard, I park in front of a chain link fence bordering the playground. Two cops get out of their cruiser — one of them, I kid you not, crept up the side of the car, hand on her holstered gun like she was ready to take me out. Keep in mind, the lights are still going. And now, the kids are starting to gather along the fence.

Apparently I “blew through the school zone going 29 MPH.” I said the sun was in my eyes. I said the school crept up on me — I can never remember how to get there. I said I had no idea I was going 29 MPH. All true. The best part, though?

COP: Are you a parent? Are you picking up your child?

ME: No. I’m a volunteer.

COP: Oh, really?

ME: Mmm hmm — for the United Way After School Program? I’m here to help the kids with their homework until their parents can pick them up.

Ooh yeah Baby. An even BETTER answer than “I have diarrhea.” (Which I’m SO going to use someday.)

Now the kids are waving.

We talk a little longer, he checks my license, registration, insurance, etc. and tells me he’s letting me off with a warning.

Schweet.

Mommypie. Model Citizen. Example Setter.

11 Comments

Filed under Life Lessons

Thankfully, I’ll be the one with the camera.

In the morning, I’m hitting the road, heading to an annual overnight “retreat” at a mountain resort with our Board of Directors. Loosely translated, “work all day and watch grown men and women act like total idiots at the bar all night.” This is the one guaranteed night each year MP has a sleepover at Grammy and Poppy’s — they have fun, I have fun, it’s all good. The resort is about an hour away though, and thinking about it makes me miss her already. I know, I know …

So, I’m charging the camera as I type. If I’m lucky I’ll come home with some blog-worthy photos. I’d post some from last year to give you an idea of what’s in store but I swore to delete anything incriminating. Which means … I got nothin’. This year, who knows. Back in the 90s, I saw Glenn Close in the restaurant. She looked remarkably like a regular person. Which totally didn’t stop me from telling everyone I knew I rubbed elbows (literally) with the Fatal Attraction chick. What I wouldn’t give to have gotten a picture of her eating a rabbit dinner …

Oh, and did you notice how I’ve already blown the NaBloPoMo thing? That was quick. Now I just have to break the news to the Teletubbies. Po will be devastated. I however, will not.

Okay, I’m exhausted. I’m taking a chance and leaving the packing ’til morning. Which is probably a really bad idea, but the lids, they are heavy ma Doogs.

See you in a few days!

8 Comments

Filed under Piecemeal

Newsflash!

This just in.

elmoflash

Elmo’s a perv.

P.S. Thanks QB for makin’ my day.

17 Comments

Filed under Bits and Pieces

Gettin’ Pippi widit.

It was brought to my attention that one of my Tweets Thursday sounded a bit … odd.

You’re right, it does sound like code. (You and your dirty minds.) Unfortunately, my life is not NEARLY that racy.

Here’s the poop. The company I work for puts on an annual business conference, complete with workshops, exhibitors and a cocktail hour. One of the showcase vendors was a massage therapy center. I’ve had some serious back pain for a few years now (helluu Mommy Back), which has escalated over the last few months, so I asked the guy manning the booth for a massage.

I went to lie on the table face down when he told me to turn over, saying something about not being able to form a relationship with the back of a head. Mkay, different, but I get it.

Before the guy cracked everything from my toes to my fingertips to my neck, he told me my back pain stemmed from my feet. He pointed out that I put my weight on the outside of them, which throws everything off. Which I’d never noticed before, but is totally true.

He brought my knees up to my chest — up and out. He told me to relax. To which I replied in my head, “Dude, unless you wanted me to push some major wind, you do NOT want me to relax.” Seriously. I went into this thinking I was getting vanilla. Not spumoni. I was fully unprepared for Yogi-in-a-Box-Contortions.

And then, at one point he started pushing on my stomach with one hand while the other cradled the small of my back.

“Are you cycling?” he says.

“Yeah.” I answer.

I thought he was asking if I biked. I was just about to tell him all about MP’s bike trailer when he says, “I can tell. Your ovaries are swollen.”

Umm …

“Are you cramping?”

“Uh, no …”

“Well, this should help …”

AWWWWKWARD.

Despite this completely uncomfortable exchange, by the time he was done, I was ready to pledge allegiance to his Body Shop. I WAS in Heaven. I literally had NO pain. I told everyone I saw to “Go over to this guy’s booth and get a massage OMG it’s amazing and incredible and I’m totally making an appointment first thing Monday.”

Until Saturday morning when I’m feeling like I’ve been hit by a train. And I literally cannot get out of bed. So much for blind allegiance. The back is just as bad as before, if not worse.

Not so bad that I couldn’t make it to the theater. MP and I went to see a local production of Pippi Longstocking.

And back cracker be damned, all was right with the world.

14 Comments

Filed under No Piece

Howling at the moon and other country activities.

It happened last year and it’s happening again. A week before Halloween and MP’s waffling. Just a few weeks ago she was PSYCHED to be Bat Girl. Her costume is seriously kick ass.

And suddenly, now she wants to be a werewolf.

I have no idea who or what is responsible for planting this thought. Who knows what crazy randomness lurks in the mind of a 4 1/2 year old? I suspect MP’s brain looks something like a Froot Loop strewn McDonald’s PlayLand. With toy catalogs and lots of Chapstick and Spongebob serving ice cream. Surprisingly, it appears to be a place where mythical hairy monsters aren’t so scary afterall. Mean foxes and dinosaurs on the other hand … THOSE are the things nightmares are made of.

(At least lately.)

So, the whole werewolf thing has spurred kind of a crazy routine.

(At least lately.)

We howl at the moon.

We don’t just stick our heads out the door and give a couple ‘owwws.’ We go out on the lawn, get down on all fours, throw our heads back and HOWL Baby.

I can’t take credit for THIS particular crazy idea. This one’s all MP’s. A few nights this week, I’ve put her to bed without howling, only to have her tiptoe out to the livingroom in her footie PJs.

“Mommy, we forgot to howl at the moon.”

So we bundle up in our coats and winter hats (yes, we have SNOW) and run out to the yard. And as off-the-wall as it sounds, I think it’s actually empowered her a bit, and made her a little less fearful of the night.

Living in the country has its advantages.

We just don’t do it on Fridays. That’s when the ‘neighbors’ get naked and climb into their teepee sweatlodge. This is also a new development. I’m SO not kidding.

At any rate, I’m still pushin’ Bat Girl. As much as I love the whole wolf vibe, I have NO idea how to make a werewolf costume.

16 Comments

Filed under Pieceful Night's Sleep

A day at the patch with Al.

Yesterday, as is customary this time of year, MP and I made our way to the Pumpkin Patch with Grammy and Poppy.

Shortly after arriving, we ran into one of MP’s friends from school. Together, along with his 2-year-old brother, they were inseparable.

Just like MP’s hand and butt.

It’s the latest phase. The Hand-Down-The-Pants one. It’s constant.

When I asked her to please take her hand out of the back of her pants, she replied with an amiable “okay,” and moved it to the front.

Al Bundy’s got nothin’ on this kid.

17 Comments

Filed under A Little Piece of My Heart

Can’t we all just get along?

Things in my office have been a little tense lately. I work with five women and one man, Conservaboss. (I think it’s about time for more BO bumper stickers …) I’ve worked with TONS of women before and NEVER experienced the catty, nosy, jealous, backstabbing BS that goes on in my office nearly every day. Seriously. Women are absolutely ridiculous. I don’t know how lesbians do it.

In all honesty, it really comes down to just a few bad apples who get off on trading negativity almost as much as two hormonal teenagers swapping spit. And I’ve learned the best way to avoid being peppered with the BS is to stay buried in my office.

Until Monday.

Remember my Social Media Presentation last week? On Monday, one of the Apples (who takes great joy in finding fault with me, my ideas, my work, etc.) rolled into my office, sat down, and gave a backhanded compliment before tearing it apart.

And I lost my shit.

Just thinking about it exhausts me. Needless to say, when the smoke cleared and all was said and done, I felt like a weight had been lifted. I was completely honest. And it was completely harsh. But 100% deserved.

What it comes down to is this. I would love nothing more than to spend each day with MP. Being the sole bread-earner, that’s not a possibility right now. But if I can’t be with her, I damn well better like the people I DO spend time with. Because thinking that I spend more hours each day with a few downright nasty beyotches than I do with my daughter makes me angry.

So tomorrow, the entire staff will be going on our annual day-long “retreat.” Which really just means we go somewhere, recap the past year and talk about plans for the next. AWESOME timing. Should be a BLAST.

I’ve decided to take the high road however, and attempt to be a uniter.

I’ll be passing out Pop Rocks and Diet Pepsi. If THAT doesn’t get a laugh, I’ll be throwing in the proverbial towel and heading to an ashram somewhere in India.

25 Comments

Filed under Piece of My Mind

I knew this day would come.

Sunday morning, MP let me sleep in a little bit while she watched cartoons. When I woke up and emerged from the bedroom, she was shuffling around with the kitchen broom.

I asked her what she was doing and she mumbled something about sweeping up the bathroom. Not sure what she was talking about, I peeked my head in the doorway.

And saw this.

Mounds and mounds of hair.

And when I looked closely, I saw the damage. All in all, I have to say, she did a pretty good job perfecting the Crack Shag. She was SO proud, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Mommy, I did it just the way the Hair Cutter Lady does it! I squirted with this (Johnson’s No More Tangles), just like the lady, then combed it and cut it! Just the way I’m supposed to!”

So last night we made a visit to the Hair Cutter Lady for a little damage control. MP now has a bob.

Which is actually pretty cute.

We have agreed that from now on however, do-it-yourselfers are off limits.

33 Comments

Filed under Piecing it Together

But it kills 99.9% of bacteria in 15 seconds …

MP and I have been fighting off colds for a few days now. I am the color of cream of celery soup. MP is ASKING to go straight to bed after dinner. Somethin’ ain’t right, and I don’t understand it.

Especially in light of the fact we’ve been wiping our hands and faces with THESE bad boys.

Which, in my defense, look suspiciously similar to THESE.

But, to cut costs, I went the Tarzhay brand way, bought the generic, left them in the car, and have been using them on MP and myself every day for the past few weeks. Only after a few days of using them as Kleenex and blowing my NOSE into them, did I notice they left my membranes horribly dry. Drippy, but dry. And smelling like an institution.

Upon closer inspection …

Which I failed to notice. The only thing I saw was:

Kills the common flu virus!

Kills 99.9% of bacteria in 15 seconds!

Alcohol-free!

Bleach-free!

Crap. I guess this means disinfecting the dog’s poo-face is out of the question.

I’m goin’ to bed.

33 Comments

Filed under Confessional