Alabaster Mom

Portrait of a Tantrum "I DO IT!" I hear that about 874 times a day. It doesn't matter if letting her "do it" causes a small task to take six weeks. She is gonna do it come hell or high water. This brings back memories for my mom, who says that my middle sister was always yelling, "I DO IT BY MESELF!" Though they don't share any of the same DNA, my kid seems to have a lot in common with her headstrong auntie. One of our big challenges lately is that she wants to wear a Pull-up instead of a diaper. Her Pull-ups have Disney (Motto: you may as well just send us a check because we are gonna get your money anyway ) princesses on the front. There is also a smattering of colorful flowers in the crotch area, and the flowers go away when the kid pees in the Pull-up. The flowers are usually history within seconds, which tells you how well the potty-training is going. Not only does she want to wear a Pull-up, she insists on donning it herself. This always alwa...

I suffered, so that she doesn't have to "Claudia, you're in your 30's. Isn't it time you stopped telling that story?" No Mom, it's never time to stop. I must warn others, like a Public Service Announcement, you know? This is A's third Halloween. The first year she was a bee, last year she was a chicken, and this year she's a dragon. Each year I buy her a Halloween costume almost as soon as they hit the shelves. Why, you ask? Because I don't want her to have to be Chewbacca. Let me take you back a bit. The year was 1978. I was in the third grade. Like most kids, I was pretty psyched about Halloween. Free candy from the neighbors - what's not to like? I asked my mom repeatedly about my costume (what, oh what, would she pick out for me? And when?). Alas, she waited until Halloween day to buy my costume and all the good ones were gone. So she bought what they had left: Chewbacca. Keep in mind that Star Wars had come out and as you may recall, i...

A is an only child (well, technically speaking, she does have a biological half-brother, but she is *our* only child). She is our first and, as far as we know, our last. She was the long, long, long awaited baby who brought an end to years of heartbreak and longing. And, it goes without saying that she is exceedingly cute. As such, she has been photographed daily since her birth. Sometimes multiple times a day. It's gotten to the point where she now mumbles "cheese" and doesn't even look up. This morning she is wearing a new fall outfit so I thought I would take a quick snapshot. But here's the problem: Pingu is on. The kid is obsessed with Pingu . If you've never heard of Pingu , count your blessings. Seriously. He appears on the "Sprout on demand" channel on our cable system. They broadcast the shows in sets of three, because they are only about 6 minutes long. While the shows do get replaced by different episodes from time to time, we still get P...

Our Caller ID has started displaying in Spanish. We have no idea why. Our Caller Id is a separate box that sits on our kitchen counter (we don't have one of them new-fangled phones that displays Caller ID, ya'll). Yesterday it started telling me that I had 9 Llamadas. P says that the kid must have pressed too many buttons and somehow switched the language. I dunno - I mean, the thing only has three buttons. But, who knows. I took French for something like 7 years and don't know any Spanish at all, but I feel pretty confident that I can figure out what my Caller ID is trying to tell me nonetheless. This little episode did bring a little thought into my mind, though. Why would Caller ID ever need to display in a different language? At least not in the U.S., right? If I lived in Germany I would expect my Caller ID to display in German. Fine. Now, I am not one of these people who beats a drum saying, "If you live in this country you'd better speak the lan...

I stepped on the scale this morning. It was not good news. I even resorted to stripping off my pajamas and taking off my glasses to see if that would help. Short of blowing my nose, I had nothing else to get rid of. It seems I have fallen off the wagon. Not only did I fall off the wagon, I think the wagon backed up and ran over me a few times. I've been eating too much and I had hoped that the fat cells in my ass wouldn't notice. But alas, they did. So, I am recommiting myself to the Weight Watchers program today. Maybe if I say it out loud, so to speak, I can hold myself accountable. I'm going to head back to the meetings and get rid of this extra weight (I haven't weighed in since early August). I'm going to get back to my goal weight by the time Short Stuff and I leave for our Thanksgiving trip to VA. I started WW in September of 2005, when the kid was just four months old. I became a lifetime member in December of 2006. Unlike most moms who lose pregna...

I think you'll agree that this is a flattering portrait (that's my friend Kathy on the left). I thought Dave had already taken the photo and I was saying, "Did you get my boobs in that shot?" Just making my mother proud every chance I get, you know how it goes. I'm going to refer to my friends by name in this post because it's too confusing to do otherwise. They are welcome to sue me. However, they all know that I just bought a furnace on Friday and therefore . . . what's that old saying about blood and a rock? The wedding was a lot of fun as was the reception. P could've come but didn't want to expend the effort to find a sitter. My friend Kim agreed to be my date, though (I also spent the night at her house, as I live about 120 miles from the wedding location). A bunch of our friends from the rescue were there. Apparently the bride was expecting some questionable behavior from our group, because she sat us at two tables that were about as far fr...

[the kind of lady who yells "I farted!" in public, but anyway . . . ] Dig the glittery cha-cha shoes Short Stuff and I had an interesting evening together. To back up a bit, I had an appointment after work with my optometrist. It was a good time, as always. I am convinced that the whole "air puff in the eye" test is actually not a valid test at all but rather an elaborate practical joke carried about by optometrists the world over. Then comes the "this one or that one" test. You know you don't want to fail this test ( Oh my God, what if they both look the same?!?!). If you do, you're walking out of there with glasses thicker than your forearm. (Brian Regan has a funny routine about this. I tried to find a clip of it on YouTube but all I could find was the audio , accompanied by some weird anime crap. But anyway, it's funny.) Anyway, I guess I passed because he informed me that my prescription was the same as before. But then, not content to le...