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Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Leap Of Faith

I wish my birthday fell on Leap Day because technically, I'd be eleven years old. My birthday, however, is in July - the month that everybody's away on vacation. So if we're counting celebrations, technically I guess I'm five. That goes for my maturity as well.

Samu, the Kindergartner, knew today was Leap Day. His older brother, the Air-Head, doesn't even know what year we're in, much less the day of the week. Forget explaining Leap year or Leap Day - I might as well teach him Latin.

For example, everyday for homework, he has to write his name and the date. I'll ask him what today is and no matter where we are in the month he says, "I don't know, the 9th?"

"No, we're further than that. Look on the calendar."

He checks the calendar and five minutes later he says, "Yeah, it's the 9th."

So forget the concept of Leap Year.

Ask him what date "The Avengers" movie is going to be released, however, and he'd probably include a countdown. What can I expect from a kid who eats a dry rice cake topped with dry seaweed?

Don't clean your screen, that is rice cake on his cheek.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Free Praise

You are doing an excellent job.

Don't look over your shoulder because I AM talking about you. We all need a random somebody to be on our side and say something encouraging - even though that person may be an embarrassment, but what the heck, praise is hard to come by. So take this compliment - compliments of the nutty house and Thank You.

You might suspect that I'm having a "corn flake" moment and I did consider downloading the "Magic 8 Ball" application for my iPhone to guide me through tough times. The truth is, I just decided to be grateful for everything. Even the shitty things - like returned packages for insufficient address. But most of all, I'm grateful that you stop by, leave comments and give me a reason to publicly announce my idiocy. After all, a low can be a high if you look at it upside down. It all depends on your point of view.

With that said, here is an inspirational video of Samu's idea of skipping rope. Honestly, he thinks he's really good at it.

By the way, the Magic 8 Ball app is now FREE!

Saturday, February 25, 2012

The Mid-Winter Recess From Hell!

"I survived the Mid-Winter Recess 2012" - that's my new bumper sticker idea. For when I get a bumper other than my fat ass. Honestly, I love my kids but having them all day for a whole week was like being held prisoner by mental-midget pirates.

Of course, I'm exaggerating - again. Although the boys were far from being angels, they followed my objective, which was to sleep in every morning. I planned nothing just to accomplish this and for the most part, I succeeded. We slept until 7:06 am.

As a result, I have nothing to show - so I'll post the rest of the pictures we took during our tour of the Lower East Side. It followed our field trip to the Manhattan Bridge because I personally feel that Chinatown is not a kid-friendly exploration. It might just be me, but I don't appreciate old ladies elbowing me to pass on Canal Street. Don't worry - I elbowed her back at the red light she was in a hurry to catch.

Yes - I can be a bitch, too. Have you seen my mother?

We stopped for lunch at One and One - it's a pub on First Avenue and First Street, thus the name. Back in the day, it was our favorite last stop. It looked quite different in the daylight and I vaguely remembered the food being good - but even sober, it was fantastic. Not to mention, our waiter looked a lot like Lawrence Fishburn. I'll take the blue pill.

On a useless fixture in the middle of Allen Street

Where Mommy & Daddy used to play live bad music

One on One, waiting for grub

An unusual shot of Mommy and Daddy - together
In front of Hell's Angels HQ - where they belong!

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Bridge Over Trouble

For the shortest month of the year, February always gets me in a funk right smack in the middle of it. Maybe it's the tax preparation, or it's the cluster of birthdays of all the wackiest women I know. Personally, I blame Valentine's day. The idea of hearts and chocolate just makes me a little bi-polar, ya know?

So, even if this only suits myself - I am dedicating this post to encouragement. While perfection and beauty may get all the attention, flaw and functionality are the crucial balance without which love would cease to exist.

Yeah, I'm not sure how that works either but it sounds good, don't it?

It started with the second grader's Social Studies project: two full written pages and a mini-model on a New York City landmark. Zuki was assigned the Manhattan Bridge. Of all the useless landmarks in this town, the Manhattan Bridge was my least favorite. If I had a choice, I would've picked "Pete's Tavern" in Gramercy Park - no doubt I'd do a lot of hands on research there. I'm sure many New Yorkers feel the same way. It's an unimpressive bridge. Not to mention shoddy. But Manhattan Bridge is what we're stuck with.

The research was grueling because the resources were profoundly limited. I resorted to reading a blog, albeit a rather insightful one, which titled the post, "Manhattan Bridge: New York's Dysfunctional Classic". Like the ugly middle sister, standing in the shadow of our beloved Brooklyn Bridge, the Manhattan Bridge to this day is under appreciated and largely ignored. It was almost scrapped entirely but went under reconstruction instead - for nearly two decades. Today, it stands dutifully - silencing the doubters and receiving nothing more than a mention in a footnote.

In a way, I can identify with that. The headache we're experiencing right now with Zuki's schooling is a strange reflection of its plight. Seriously, it's enough to make me want to go there to jump off of it. Instead, we took a field trip to the Canal Street entrance to pay our respects. We took pictures by the stone archway - the bridge's only notable feature and I promised to appreciate it more. In my head, I thanked the Manhattan Bridge for showing me the beauty of surviving those troubles and eventually becoming the subject of a seven year old's school project.

I was sure my husband was appreciating the same new found respect when he uncharacteristically asked to borrow the camera.

Then he said, "I want to take pictures of that statue's tits."

Honestly. Can't take him anywhere.

Sweet Tits is on the bottom left
Zuki's attempt at photography

Monday, February 13, 2012

I 8 Your Heart

Although I'm not in a writing rut right now (try saying that three times fast), I just had to take a break and get away. In other words, my husband turned on AMC's "The Walking Dead" marathon and I could not tear myself away.

What is it about zombies? Out of all the ghouls, they are the least intelligent. Downright retarded if you ask me. Yet, what makes them so appealing? For starters, nobody's tried to make them more, you know, romantic. Unlike vampires, who have become fashionably lame, zombies haven't sold out. Their look hasn't changed, still wearing those same tattered clothing with blood stains that make you wonder if there's enough Tide stick in the world to get them out.

My boys are rather obsessed with zombies, too. How do you kill zombies, mommy?

"Honey, there are no such things as zombies."

"Yeah, but if there were, how would you kill them?"

"Apparently, you have to shoot 'em in the head because if you shoot anything in the head, it dies. Well...except maybe Kevin Brennan."

But Werewolves are my personal favorite. Maybe because I'm raising two myself. They are not affected by the phases of the moon, however, they are half feral almost all the time. This picture speaks for itself.

The Feral Kids
But I am happy with my lovable mosters. Be it zombies, werewolves or toofless sharks, they have a heart of gold. Happy Valentine's day.

Samu's Zombie V-day Card

Friday, February 10, 2012


This will be a quickie post in honor of my mother's birthday. So far, ten has been the theme for the day. Work started at 10 am. I began with a meditation session which was ten minutes - when I was done, it was 10:10 am. Before work, I purchased a bottle of sake (rice wine) for a mini celebration this evening. It was ten dollars. Okay, ten-dollars and ninety-five cents - stay with me, here.

Yes, we are planning a small celebration so that she may either A, blow it off or B, attend and say it's lame or C, get ripped and throw up in our living room. There is always the option that she may actually enjoy a quiet little shindig.

My husband and I call her the "Crazy Lady." And she's an Aquarius.

So, that last option is highly improbable. And when my husband and my mother get toasted together, she always starts beating him up. I do nothing to stop her. He deserves it. It's funny how the smallest people cause the biggest injury. Samu did a number on Daddy the other day when Daddy teased him relentlessly. Samu's kicks to Daddy's calves were ineffective, so Samu lifted Daddy's shirt and scratched his back with razor sharp nails.

Little people...don't f*ck with them.

Getting back to my mother, or Baba as my boys call her - if I had to find a saying that describes her - it would have to be, "It's not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog."

Man, does she have a lotta fight. It's what keeps her looking young. I should be taking notes, but she never gives me a chance to take my boxing gloves off.

Ding! Round Ten. Happy Birthday, Baba.

My mom & 2 glasses of champagne

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Mission: Impossible

This is awesome - I've been tagged by a really cool mama, Kim at "The G Is Silent". She was tagged and answered 11 questions and passed on the glory to her dysfunctional group of bloggers. Ah, the price of popularity.

Nobody wants to know this much about me, but Kim does - so, I'll oblige. And because I don't want to break my streak of breaking Chain mails, and yet would feel guiltier than an adopted daughter who forgot to send a Valentine's card to my Jewish mother, again...I'll oblige. With a twist of my own. Instead of eleven questions, I offer eleven prompts as a blog topic - please cover ONE at your convenience. But you hafta cover one and no, I won't hex you for not spreading the disease.

And if you don't have a blog, you do have to submit a two-hundred word essay on canary yellow memo paper that lawyers use. Illegal size is okay.

Kim's Questions:
1.  Have you ever played an instrument?  If you haven’t, what kind would you like to be able to play? The only one worth mentioning is guitar. I'm bad ass. Or so I've been told. No "easy listening" Jewel or Jack Johnson stuff - I play music that doesn't sell. Apparently.

2.  What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleeping and why? Thirty-two hours the day I flew to Japan and went out drinking all night with my sister, her husband and my cousins after I got there. Why - because I was a zombie.

3.  If you could be a fly on anyone’s wall, whose would it be and what would you hope to learn? I'd like to be a fly on Hugh Jackman's wall, find out once and for all if he's gay.

4.  What are 5 items in your home you could not possibly live without? Beer, pretzels, Samu's favorite pizza, beer and Pub Mix.

5.  If someone popped by your house unannounced right now, what would you be most embarrassed about? Not answering the door.

6.  Honestly now – Do you watch any of the Kardashian circus? No, because I can watch whores that are tricking on Sixth Avenue in person.

7.  If you could be famous for anything, what would you want that to be? That I got paid for being stupid.

8.  Who is that one person from your past you would most like to connect with but you either don’t remember his/her last name, don’t know her married name or just can’t find on any searches? A good friend I just stopped talking to for no reason. Or a reason I can't remember now anyway. I left him at CBGB'S without saying goodbye. "Goodnight, Fred."

9.  Who is at the top of your “list?”  You know, the one you’re allowed to stray from the marriage for. If Tim Finn ever showed up at my door, my husband would be dead to me.

10.  What’s your preference:  Phone call, text or email? Do you mean for sex? That would definitely have to be snail mail - I'm a sucker for love letters.

11.  Do you have a new/newer/newish laptop that you just have no need for and you want to send to a family who currently has only one working computer, and it’s a work computer and really isn’t supposed to be used for anything but work but is currently being used for this blog right this very second? Yes. My personal assistant, who looks like The Rock, is on it right now.

Thanks for enduring that slice of mediocrity. Now for Mission: Impossible - pick a prompt and don't be shy. When you post it, I'll be sure to link it here so that all the world may see what blogging geniuses my blogger friends are.

1. Tattoos: Will they remain fashionable forever? How will you handle your kid getting one? And if you're kid-less, how would you handle your dog getting one?

2. The worst boss or teacher you ever knew.

3. Who will play you in a movie about your life and how will it end?

4. What's going to be your retired look when you're as old as Betty White or Dick Clark?

5. You're allowed to loot for a day - any city, any store and you don't have to fight zombies or rabid dogs.

6. The world is at peace - what comes next, boredom or mayhem?

7. What drink goes best with a luscious sunset?

8. If you could take credit for writing one book, composing one song and accomplishing one life achievement what would they be?

9. What famous people share your birthday and what traits do you like or dislike that you have in common?

10. A mistake or regret you hope your kids will never repeat.

11. You are commissioned to write the story line for "Where The Wild Things Are," for the screen. Let's pretend the Spike Jonze version never happened - we never made it to the end, anyway.

The Impossible Team:
Maureen: Tatterscoops
Ava: Grapes And Oranges
Diplo Daddy: Educated Abroad
Bridget: Twinisms
Megan: Best Of Fates
Tricia: Critters And Crayons
Michelle: And Lily Makes 3
Trinity: Real Life Reslers

Grace: Mama Grace (where have you been, girl?)
Last but not least - the gal who got me into this club: Kim: The G Is Silent

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Hymn Of The Schedule Battle

Every stay-at-home parent faces this question at least once in their career, "What do you do all day?" Although, I admit, my husband's been smart about not asking that question - I do get asked from complete strangers. The audacity, right? Usually I tell them that I go bar hopping after shoe shopping and they know to avoid asking me that question again.

After reading Megan's quirky entry at "Best Of Fates", where she posted a snapshot of her awkward schedule and visiting Bridget's hilarious post at "Twinisms" on why she was so tired - I decided, why not pile on more evidence? Just to show you how good your life is.

05:53 am  My eyes snap open. I await an onslaught of some sort
05:57 am  Still trying to go back to sleep but I'm sure a little guy is going to crash my bed any sec
06:05 am  The alarm goes off - I curse the lost 12 minutes of sleep
06:20 am  Ten minute workout with husband farting throughout the ENTIRE thing. STIN-keee!
06:45 am  The battle begins!! And goes on until I drop the suckers off @school
08:45 am  Jot down a "To Do" list and ignore it completely
09:00 am  Write, check emails, pay bills and stare - just stare - at the mess in my house
12:00 pm  Realize I can't have lunch because I haven't gone shopping and starve
12:01 pm  Set up manuscripts to send in for rejection notices
 2:20 pm  Pick up the Air Head and begin the homework battle
 5:45 pm  Pick up "Piss Pants" a.k.a. Samu and begin the dinner battle
 8:30 pm  Put the demons to bed and say, "Don't give me any crap tomorrow!"

But of course, they do give me crap because I wasn't specific enough. Same day - different battle hymn. As for the attempt to make myself look noble, you know, the 'manuscript' submission thing? Yeah, well it's like saying I'm sending out my resume to an electronic job posting (which I have done). Useless, yes, but it feeds my delusion so nicely.

With my day typed out like this, you may think me productive. Organized even. But I assure you that nothing - absolutely nothing - gets done on time around here. Well, except beer o'clock.