Suburban Warrior

My husband usually calls me a few times during the day to check in on "his girls". Inevitably, he asks the dreaded question, "So, what's for dinner?". C'mon!!!! Give it a rest already!! Do I not recommend he eat a VERY big lunch for a reason?!?

Anyhoo, yesterday he calls me in the early afternoon. We exchange pleasantries. I inform him of Elizabeth's recent stunts and...then...there it is..."What's for dinner?". I respond, "What do you think I'm running, a restaurant?". Silence...Then a mumbled response that sounded very much like "No, more like a shelter/soup kitchen"...

Men.

Showing proper respect to others, especially adults, was a big theme in both my husband's family and my own growing up...So, naturally we wanted to instill that quality in our daughter.

Well, apparently Elizabeth has combined our parental expectations/influence with some Disney movies with regards to showing proper respect. For the last few days, whenever I ask Elizabeth to do something she curtsies and says, "yes, your majesty". Now, that's all well and good in the privacy of our own home, but it's a tad overdone when we are in public.

ME: "Elizabeth put the milk in the grocery cart".

E: (curtsy)"Yes, your majesty".

or

ME: "Elizabeth, do you need help with your goggles?"

E: "Yes, your majesty". (curtsy)

or

ME: "Elizabeth, GET DOWN FROM SITTING ON THOSE MONKEY BARS!!!"

E: (climbs down from monkey bars and curtsies) "Yes, your majesty".

We've created a monster.

Happy Belated Father's Day to all fathers!!

I WAS having an enjoyable Father's Day UNTIL church. Yes, church. I usually feel good about myself after Mass, but not this time...Mass was almost finished and Elizabeth was getting antsy. Disciplining one's child in church is tricky business, especially if you're Catholic. We must be stern and instill the utmost reverence in our children during church, but at the same time restrain ourselves from wanting to beat the hell out of the little monsters in the House of God ( I don't know about your kids, but Elizabeth knows she has much more control of me in a quiet, religious setting). It seems a good Catholic mother should be in total control of her brood, all the while keeping her Catholic composure. Hmmm, I have ONE child and this is a challenge for me.

Anyhoo, there we were in church and Elizabeth was beginning to toy with me. First, she stuck her wet finger in my ear, then she announced LOUDLY that she had a wedgie, then she stopped communicating in a whisper and began to talk in a normal tone. I attempted to discipline her with my "mother glare" and my "you just wait until we get in the car and there are no Christian witnesses" look, but she couldn't have cared less. Well, she left me no choice...so I leaned in close, gritted my teeth and said, "If you don't stop this behavior we are NOT, I repeat, NOT letting you dance today" (FYI: no, Elizabeth didn't have a recital or anything like that, she just REALLY enjoys to dance around the house). Well, that did it!! Elizabeth stared at me, then glared, then grabbed her pad and pencil and began to write furiously. Oh, boy...Once again, I fear for my safety and those around us. Elizabeth angrily squints at me and shoves the paper in my hand. I look down at the words my own daughter wrote, by herself, on the paper. Apparently, my daughter plays dirty. I am stunned, hurt...and realize I need to go on a diet...

"Mom is 39"

Words sting.

Ok, some of you don't get this blogging thing...

With regards to me referring to Wacko Jacko as a guilty FREAK...

THIS BLOG IS NOT A COURT OF LAW!!. It is a COURT OF PUBLIC OPINION, with my opinion being the most important (ask my husband!). I'm no Greta "rearrange my face so my own mother could never recognize me" Van Sustern but...I am a student of law and I realize the prosecution had questionable witnesses and presented a weak case and therefore probably failed to prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. But you know what?? I don't give a shit. I am so sick of Jacko and his antics...I just want him to go away. Send him to Iraq, or Pluto, or Vegas...but just put him somewhere where I don't have to ever see his FREAKY face again!!

And he can take LaToya with him.

First O.J. now this...

I'm stunned. I simply can't believe that freak is free and is on his way back to Neverland Ranch. I'm sure he's celebrating with Tito and Jermaine by throwing back some Diet Cokes spiked with wine. Some of Jacko's good friends will stop by...Macaulay, Webster, Elizabeth Taylor, Pee Wee, Boy George...the "regular" gang! Jacko's dad will show up and beat the crap out of him for getting himself into this predicament, yet AGAIN!! Crazy kid! After cocktail time and a free-for-all water balloon fight, they'll all retire to his secret bedroom for Sesame Street.

After all, nothing is more special than sharing your bed.

FREAK!

Well, their movie is finally in the theaters today.

Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. What can I say? I would love to have her body and his...well, I'll take anything of his. However, I do believe Ms. Jolie is one freaky cookie. I don't get her...with her blood vials, makeout sessions with her brother, tattoos, multiple sex partners, etc. Hmmm, I guess she left those character traits off her adoption request forms...Speaking of that, what's with her kid, Maddox?? A mohawk on a child? Also, does that kid have legs? In every frickin picture of him in the tabloids Angelina is holding/carrying him!!! Isn't he like 5 years old now?? Lazy ass celebrity kid.

Brad...Brad...Yeah, he's fairly yummy and I did stay up later than usual to watch him with Diane Sawyer on Primetime Live the other night. B O R I N G!!! I want to refrain from commenting on Jesus, oops I mean Brad, walking among the children of Africa because this is not a political blog. I did learn some things by watching the show, but it would have been more interesting if Brad had taken off his clothes while interacting with the poor (or at least his shirt! Truthfully, I hear it is HOT in Africa). Brad succeeded in making me feel like crappola for actually having a roof over my head while these poor children in Africa had nothing (Brad must have forgotten that he recently simply "handed over" the keys to his $20 million mansion to sweet Jenny Aniston so they could all quickly "get on with their lives"). As Brad was explaining how far my $1 could go in purchasing milk/food for these children in Africa, I kept thinking about how many huts, cows, and hospitals could be built with his $20 million!!

So, it looks like Brad wants to follow in Angelina's footsteps and become a UN Goodwill Ambassador...that's nice. I am so glad the world has people like Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt to take the place of Mother Theresa.

So readers don't get left with the impression that I have problems with my mentioned in-laws...go back and read the comment from Thomas Jefferson in the comment section after my "27 Comments" post. All kidding aside, that quote represents my true feelings for my family, especially my in-laws!! Yes, I know what my brothers-in-law are thinking...in the words of Michael Jackson, "Tito, get me a tissue".

Unfortunately, it seems, the feeling is not mutual with regards to me...and from my OWN DAUGHTER!! The other day Elizabeth started begging me for candy before dinner. I said "no". She then began badgering me with "why, but why not? how come? when then? please?" and on and on it went. I looked at her and said, "do not ask me one more time for candy, I said no. If you ask me one more time you will have a time out". She glared at me and I could see the wheels in her head spinning to come up with her next move...she must have the last word, so I knew something was coming...and then these words...

"YOU ARE A...A....A STEPMOTHER!!!"

Well, at least she didn't call me a motherf%*#@&!!! The funniest part was the look on Elizabeth's face after she said it--pure horror! I do believe she thought she had uttered some devil/Satan speak.

Anyhoo, I think we can safely say Elizabeth needs to cut back on Cinderella and Cinderella II.

Don't be too impressed with the 27 comments from my last post.

I married into a large "ready to pounce at any moment" family. And as you can see, they did indeed pounce in my comment section. As you can read, some of them are the very definition of angry, white men. I also found it interesting that one of them likes to pose as a woman, Martha Burke...apparently one of them has more "issues" than I originally thought! On a side note, I would like to thank all those who supported Suburban Warrior with their kind words of support.

I must admit my last post was very poorly planned. You see, I forgot that I had to see Booby and Jamie that VERY night at a family party for my mother-in-law's birthday. But then I thought, "they don't scare me". So, I went and had a fab evening (FYI: has anyone tried the mangotini?? My sisters-in-law recommend!). The sad thing is I realize I will never change Booby and Jamie, as they are who they are. But sometimes who they are is downright frightening. For instance, the last vision I had as I exited the restaurant was of one of them pointing a camera down their pants...(and I won't even mention the food fight during dinner).

Jamie and Bobby...the brothers I never had...

Harry John is not alone on my asinine brother-in-law list. Hardly.

I don't really like to use people's real names, but in this case...well...let's just call them Bobby and Jamie. Now, Bobby and Jamie are tough guys (or like to think so). They hunt, "play" paintball, fish, belong to the NRA, and always, ALWAYS vote Republican. They listen to Rush Limbaugh, Gordon Liddy and read the very unbiased Drudge Report. Yes, I know, they are pathetic (The funny thing is they have lovely wives. Like my husband, they married up).

Anyhoo, these two clowns are relentless in harassing me for my political views. Everytime I turn around, one of these two has planted a pro-Bush or NRA sticker on my car. Very annoying...and illegal I might add. Like so many Republican presidents, they simply take the law into their own hands! But you know, I'm in this marriage for the long haul, so I have come to accept this brother-in-law cross...and all the ugly baggage that comes with it. And no, I have never reciprocated their vandalism with any "Hillary 2008", ACLU or NARAL stickers, but then again, I'm just on another level altogether. This anger/tough guy approach to my political beliefs is puzzling...where does it come from?? Like Harry John, Jamie and Bobby are a tad vertically challenged, so maybe it's that "little man syndrome" thing working??? Whatever it is, they do keep me on my toes...and I do LOVE them bunches and bunches and BUNCHES!!

One can only pray...

Sorry I've been gone, but I'm just now getting movement back in my body after "roughing it" in Irene's backyard.
Obviously, Irene and I made peace. I still think she has numerous old lady qualities and is stuck in a time warp, but whatever...that's what makes the world go round...plus, she promised she would teach me how to play bridge next week.

So, off we went to pitch our tent in Irene's backyard (and FYI: it was not a Red Tent). I knew when we arrived we were in over our heads. Irene, her husband, and her three boys are right out of the REI catalog. Their tent was bigger than a small house and could house approximately twenty-four campers. I saw that their tent was filled with their hearty, warm Eddie Bauer sleeping bags. In the meantime, Paul was busy dragging our collection of old blankets and pillows out of our car (only the best in camping gear for us!). Then Paul attempted to assemble our tiny, little, Kmart special tent...good God, what a scene that was! After watching him struggle with poles, snaps, hooks, etc., I told him Irene and I would finish the job. Which we did...expertly, I must admit...Now that the campsite was officially set up, it was time to relax. The kids ran about laughing...barefoot...enjoying nature...in the fresh, crisp, summer air...And the adults...well, we went inside to sit in chairs and drink wine. I was very responsible and refrained from drinking, as I knew someone had to keep their wits about them if we were to survive the night and it's elements outside...plus I have a peanut bladder and didn't want to keep getting up to urinate.

Anyhoo, after a delicious dinner and roasting marshmallows, it was time to retire to our tents...But first I had to convince Elizabeth that she REALLY needed to wear sweatpants to bed and NOT her Hello Kitty summer nightgown. Then, we had to have a twenty minute discussion deciding who was sleeping in what tent...With that solved, we were ready to hunker down for the night. The dads graciously said they would sleep with three children in the humongo tent and Irene and I would take one child with us in the pathetic tent (by the way, Irene wasn't so tough, as she snuck a lawn chair cushion under her sleeping bag). Surprisingly enough, the kids did well and went to sleep after twenty minutes or so...

The rest of the night is kind of a blur. I think hypothermia set in about 2:30 am, which will undoubtedly happen when one is only covered by an afghan blanket. After one of the longest nights of my life (after childbirth), I finally decided to get up at 5:30 am. I exited my tent and went to peek in the other tent...there slept my very masculine husband, wrapped up in a lovely, floral Laura Ashley comforter (who needs Coleman when you can look "pretty" when camping??). I later learned Paul, too, was suffering from hypothermia.

Anyhoo, we survived to blog about it...and when you've survived a true challenge like we all did, you come out stronger and more confident. And I am very confident I will NOT be doing that again anytime soon...