here in my car

i'm gonna be honest (i hate "words" like "gonna," "sorta," "kinda," but oh well). our car time together is rough. like painful for myself and anyone else in or near the vehicle. really just one of my kiddos is in hate with the car ride but i'm not naming names. no one wants that label. even at one. i've tried everything. "kiddie" music which i swore to the donnas i would never do, every toy imaginable, rear mirrors (the kind that go in the backseat of the car, not mirrors so you can see your rear. that would be the worst invention of all time), snacks, books, objects that are otherwise not approved for toddler usage like plastic spoons and packs of tissues (bad idea. don't try it.). i have fantasized about turning them forward-facing as officially the united states government recommended safety practices agency (just made that up) says it's okay. they're over a year. they're over 20 lbs. but then i started doing research on flipping the seats. apparantly I should still be rear-facing when in a vehicle. it's safer for me. i might climb into their carseats just to see how it feels. the rear-facing vs. front-facing debate is about as heated as the breast-feed vs. bottle-feed debate. it's controversial. it's passionate. i didn't know. but now i know. and now i can't flip. at least until they're older. i don't know how old. not like my current age old. not like i'm dropping them off at their first middle school dance and they're rear-facing, fixing their hair in the rear mirror. but i'm trying to hold out for a little longer. plus i have no guarantees that this is an easy fix to the passenger stress. what if they hate the front-facing more? it is possible. i pull out all the try to evoke happiness stops when in the car. today i was afraid of myself when i heard myself say out loud (out of body experience) in my sweet mommy voice "you better watch out or the rhythm is gonna (used it again but this time i'm quoting) get you." i was trying mainstream radio. it was gloria estefan (and the miami sound machine, don't forget them). one of the worst songs of all time. O A O A. O A O A. O A O O AH. (sorry i just did that to you. now the rhythm has gotten you and it's all my fault). horrible. and it was the best i could do to soothe my precious angel in the back seat? no wonder he was mad. perhaps i should be talking to him about this song: here in my car, i feel safest of all, i can lock all my doors, it's the only way to live, in cars. i mean, that's motivation. that's inspiration. that's a one-hit-wonder, gary numan (had to look it up).
ok. i wrote this post. and then i reflected. and then i acted.
here's the update. ladies and gentlemen. we have reintroduced DWP (driving while pacified). with pacifiers. yep. i did it. i gave them pacifiers in the vehicle. we usually only have pacifiers in the cribs. you're in the crib. you get one. you wake up. you find your treasured pacifier. you go back to sleep. you're out. pacifier out. it's glorious. now, we have pacifier peace in the car. it's blissfulmonious (just made that up). do i know i'm creating drama for myself when they're 3 and cannot function without one? yes. here's my justification. pacifiers while rear-facing. when they get the turnaround. pacifiers be gone. wish me luck. and if you doubt my success, sorry, our success. keep it to yourself. no haters.

i have bangs

i mean. new bangs. non-elective, involuntary, new bangs. this seems like something i have to confess. but don't worry. they're not the kind of bangs that you carefully make a neat curling iron roll in and then spray. and they're definitely not the spray spray tease tease bangs of yester-year. these are wispy swoopy bangs. trendy wispy swoopy bangness (made that up). think reese witherspoon or selma blair. and then vanish those two hotties from your cerebral vision because that's not at all what i actually look like. even if my bangs are similar. which they're not. although people magazine did inquire if they could list me on their "style watch poll: what's her best look?" (http://tinyurl.com/2fqq5t) but i declined (also made up). back to the bangs. the bangs that my hairdresser decided "in the moment" that i needed. "do you mind if i just?" snip. snip. "you're a hot mom, you should have trendy bangs." snip. snip. um, okay. but we should have discussed this. and don't think calling me hot is going to make up for it. ok, it makes up for it a little. what are we talking, though, for bang-maintenance? i don't know how to maintain high-maintenance hair. did he just give me high-maintenance hair? trendy bangs. which are greeted by my spouse's reaction of "do you really have a lifestyle for those?" oh no... he didn't just... yep. he did. that, my friend, is a challenge. now i must maintain my high-maintenance trendy bangs. i can take care of two toddlers and a dog on a daily basis. i can take care of some freaking bangs. it's on. it's the kind of challenge that makes me want to go out and get some mousse to make sure i do this right. do people still use mousse? or is it of the "rouge" era of long ago? with other retired beauty products like seabreeze. you know you used some seabreeze. that stuff was like straight rubbing alcohol. of course it removed your make-up. it removed your actual skin too.

not me

not me either

part of actual me

duh

we are in the height of babble in our house and it is quite enjoyable. often times it's that sweet continuation of one chosen sound such as ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma, ma (my fav), or da, da, da, da, da, da. i need to tell you about a babble gone wrong. it was wrong on the level that, i'm afraid for my future. R was pushing her train. note: this is an actual push-approved toy. toy made to be pushed. with wheels. not like a table, chair, trash can, or other object that is, in fact, not made to be pushed. in their baby minds, everything was made to be pushed. that's the purpose of all objects. to be pushed (or put in mouths. or both). as i was saying, train-pushing. life was good. push. push. push. so i asked the obvious, to my darling daughter, as i often do..."are you pushing your train?" here's where the babble went wrong. it wasn't the usual da, da, da, da, da, da. it was a clearly enunciated "duh." just one. "duh." there was a pause in train-pushing. there was a look. and there was a "duh." she's too young to know about "no doi" but if she knew, i think i would have gotten it. did she not get the memo about mommy behavior and it being perfectly acceptable to ask the obvious questions? "are you looking at your book?", "do you have a ball?", "is that a turtle?" PERFECTLY ACCEPTABLE! why am i already not cool? why am i already not cool?!

new current obsession

my new current obsession is a person/blogger/published writer. i'm burying the lead so wait for it. my spouse, knowing i am all about the blogs lately, forwarded me a link to a blog of a person who is a mother of twins and who lives in texas. makes sense that i would be interested in what this person might have to say. here's where it gets really interesting. her name is stephanie klein. i thought, that sounds familiar. stephanie klein. maybe she is a former student? she is from new york. you know, i had a friend in elementary school named stephanie klein. she had curly, red hair. now i see her picture. this stephanie klein, of new york, has red hair. what a coincidence! then i start reading blog entries. very talented writer. with an extaordinary memory. she writes a lot about her childhood, naming childhood friend names. i didn't get named. but julie tesser, lori sussman, meryl glass, allison redmon, kim filione, gina ferrara...all named. and all my early elementary school friends. shut up. this is weird. not as weird as my sister's third grade best friend, kristen d'amato being babysat by former supermodel, pre-supermodel days, carol alt, but it is weird. reading her blog is like a trip down memory lane. i'm going to give you the link to her blog but let me caution you: this is not your fluffy i love my twins mommy blog. it's dirty. she's dirty. ok it's not all dirty. when you hit the dirty, you'll know. and when i started to recount my six-year-old stephanie klein memories...yep. she was dirty. like she used bad words. even at age six. and i'm not talking about "stupid-head" and "dumb-butt" (those are good ones by the way. thinking about bringing them back). i remember her screaming something on the playground (dirty) really loud and i was mortified to be seen with/near her for fear that someone would think it was i who said it. and, with my parents' wise judgement of character, they didn't particularly like me hanging out with her. so now stephanie klein has twins and lives in texas. even though we were second grade friends i'm pretty sure we won't hang out now. number one: we weren't great friends. i don't think i was cool enough for her. i definitely wasn't dirty enough for her. she had queen bee potential and was maybe even a little mean. and i was the kind of kid who saved bugs from near death and wrote "happy springtime i love you" cards to my mother for no reason (it was springtime. i loved her). sidenote: i'm not claiming to be an angel here. i'm sure i did mean stuff. i once tied a kite to my dog's collar. i was tired of flying it. how hard is it to fly a kite? poor topper. it scared him. i felt bad (still do a little). number two: she's still dirty. and i still am not. even if i try really hard. sometimes i say "ass" on my blog and that's about the level of my filth factor. sassy? yes. dirty? no. i really want to know if she also mentions alyssa tennenbaum, karen fiore, lea fischman, diana tillis, christi cunningham, rachel seiden, jessica seiden (not related). but they may have been of the lesser popular variety. like me. so anyway, here is the link to her blog: http://www.stephanieklein.com/. enjoy it. it's enjoyable. i have not read her book yet but i did order it for $6 including shipping which i feel a little guilty about because she may not be making any cash on that purchase at all. then again, from my research she is kind of a big deal so she probably doesn't need my sad little royalty. she has quite a way with words. and if it is truly non-fiction, she really puts it all out there. and i have to respect that. consequently, i sent her a quick comment on her blog to which i have received no response. queen bee. of course she wouldn't respond. it's not like i gave her my number and told her to call me so we could meet for coffee and talk about mrs. buonocore (first grade teacher). my spouse asked about it and all i said was "i second grade hate her." see how mean i can be?

UPDATE (02/26/08): [picture me eating crow. even though i am a pseudo vegetarian]. the queen bee did respond. i just didn't see it. she is nice. and now i wish i would have paid full price for her book.

question

a question for you, mister somewhat youthful looking alone in the car with no handicap thingy hanging from the mirror and not even on the phone (there are actually four of these people in my immediate view): do you really have to be in the starbucks drive-thru line? because i really have to be in the starbucks drive-thru line. and i mean it. the starbucks is virtually empty. there are five employees with nothing to do. there are 14 available parking spaces. it's a beautiful day. not too cold. not too hot. no rain. no wind. not even high on the allergy count, so don't try that one. it's 10:15 am. you're not late to work. or, you're super late to work. late beyond repair. and if you were late to work, it would be faster for you to get your ass out of the car to get your damn coffee because you don't have two toddlers that you have to unbuckle unbuckle hoist hoist buckle buckle coffee unbuckle unbuckle hoist hoist buckle buckle. (i didn't get my coffee that day because the line was too long. can you tell?)

why don't i just rub it in my own face by finding a picture of an icy delicious beverage that i did not get to adore?
p.s. i'm writing this instead of taking a shower and washing my hair during my sacred alone time. damn blog!
p.s.p.s. see previous post

announcement

ANNOUNCEMENT. i have a very important announcement. "mommy is taking a shower and washing her hair." i speak in third person. i make this announcement every few days. ok, i shower almost everyday. the hair, however, takes a few days vacation. i'll have you know that this is under advisement from my hair dresser who proclaimed that my hair would shrivel up and fall off if i washed it everyday. thank God i don't have to/am not allowed to wash it every day. because there's no way this could happen. my daily alone time is a precious commodity. and although i see the value of clean hair, i don't want to spend all of said alone time in the shower/drying/styling my hair. especially the drying/styling procedures. this is no small task. it involves drying then straightening. i have a lot of hair. like enough for at least three people. even with my chi styling products, it is a time-sucker. i could forego the whole dry/straighten thing and rock the tousled look au'natural but then i am committed to no brushing for several days and i have to brush. hey, i said i wash my hair only every few days. i am a regular brusher! and i'm no kate hudson. i don't look like that with natural hair drying. i'm also not sure why the good folks at target care if my hair is "done." i mean, of course they don't care. the people at the grocery store? don't care either. everyone just looks at my kids anyway. no one even sees me. let alone my hair. i'm a regular wallflower (never been called that one before). i am merely a shadow, a vehicle enabling the propelation (just made that up) of two cute kids' forward movement. i'm sure the shower/hair-washing announcement only adds to my appeal to my spouse. because every once in a while i'll provide him with a shower update. because i'm certain he wants to know (strangely, he never asks though). "tonight i'm taking a shower because i haven't showered since sunday (it's tuesday)." surely he must know this. why do i feel the need to announce it? daily alone time showers are nice but don't get me started on the luxurious luxury of a morning shower during the weekend (spouse with children). pure indulgence!

not me

a little saturday night on a wednesday morning

i have decided that when my daughter [ALERT: sappy moment to follow] ok i really love to say that. my daughter. see? i just said it again. it is so fun though. i'm new here. does this get old? not to worry, C, saying "my son" produces the same effect. as i was saying, i have decided that when my daughter takes a fall (and this happens fairly regularly with the somewhat new walking thing, which is of the "one too many cocktails" variety currently) she bears a striking resemblance to mary katherine gallagher. you know, the character from saturday night live, played by molly shannon. you can picture her falling, right? it is usually on top of something large like chairs, instruments, a bathroom stall, etc. it's not pretty. it's not graceful. it's a big fall apart fall. and then she gets up and dusts herself off (she does aspire to be a "superstar" afterall). that's what our little R does. shuffle ball change. enormous tumble. clatter. up. dust off. repeat. and, yes, she is already a superstar. and she knows it.

postpartum

i have been doing some research. it appears that it is quite common for changes to occur with your hair during pregnancy and postpartum. during pregnancy: more hair. after pregnancy: hair falls out. this didn't happen to me. so why am i talking about it? it happened to my dog. my dog is a male. never pregnant. but i swear he must have sympathy pregnancy/postpartum hair issues. i hope you can understand what i am saying through my fancy medical jargon. here's the thing. i know he did not have this much hair before the babies got here. and definitely not before the babies began their self-propelled mobility across our floors. and he certainly didn't shed this much. ever. postpartum must be taking it's toll on the little guy. i mean ginormous (real word) guy. and don't feel bad for him. he doesn't have to clean it up. i have always liked to clean. seriously. i'm a cleaner. let's say i was a frequent cleaner. my frequent cleanliness is no match for my dog's postpartum hair. i can't keep up. i dust-mop daily and vacuum at least weekly. doesn't matter. my spouse suggested we give the kids dust-mop clothing so they can just shimmy across the floor as usual but actually clean in the process. i'm pretty sure there are child labor laws that won't allow it and anyway, the main purpose of cleaning the floors is to keep the hair off of the kids. my fav (not really) is when i have just vacuumed and/or dust-mopped and an enchanting little hair/dustbunny hops across the floor. right in front of my face. like it's flaunting it's dusty hairy badness. i've gone right to the source. gus gets "furminated" (this sounds like when perez hilton calls everyone who is pregnant "sperminated." i'm not sure if there are similarities but, again, gus has never been pregnant). the furminator is a shedding tool. kind of like comb meets razor. it allegedly removes the undercoat. i am starting to think that removal of the undercoat actually promotes more hair growth but what do i know? this is what i get for being a conspiracy-theorist. and if it's true then i am just enabling the furminator folks. i use the furminator weekly. and each time i do it there are at least two smaller fluffy animals that come out of my dog's coat. so i know i'm doing something. i have been considering shaving gus so he will look like a 68 pound poodle or even investing in laser hair removal. i mean, it doesn't even really get cold here. does he need all that hair? in case you're worried about gus, fret not. he doesn't have any other symptoms of postpartum. especially fatigue. definitely no fatigue.