Thursday, October 29, 2009

just call me Michael Jackson.......

Okay, so I may be the most reckless, foolish person on earth..(well, second do G.W.Bush maybe,) but today, in my frenzy to perfect my third grade attempt at a fun house for our Halloween party, I managed to cut myself, significantly-blood spurted, I cursed, went through  half a roll of paper towels and, as the outright gushing subsided( thank god I was wearing all black),I saw that I had cut a fairly deep gash across the inner middle section on my right index finger.Great.FUUUUCCCCKKK! SO STUPID!! that is what I get for multitasking.
I have a sister that is a surgeon, but I pooped her out last night with a forty five minute convo about whether to  H1n1 or not, so I went to the internet and pretty much everyone said to go to the ER.
THE ER!!?? in Los Angeles, is at least a five hour endeavor, if not longer, and fraught with peril with the parking and the diseased millions who use it as their personal GP( no judgement, but I'm just sayin')
So I call my GP (who doesn't do stitches) and thank god, they refer me to ER Utopia-( cue Angel music) The Beverly Hills Comprehensive Medical Group.
I call.Amber answers the phone, takes my info and give me an appointment for one oclock ( most docs are at lunch). It is now twelve twenty seven and I am feeling faint, but know this is the only option before I pick the kids up at 2:30. I drive to the office and realize that it is three florrs below my husband's office. In my bloodsoaked panic, I failed to note the address was the same.
As I pull in and tell my story to Israel, the valet whose wife died from breast cancer last year, I feel a tremendous sense of gratitude that this isn't worse. I go upstairs to the second floor and enter the doorway marked 250. It looks like an episode of Melrose Place.Amber is beautiful with perfect red lipstick and staright glistening hair.She takes my  info and copay immediately and has me sit on the white tufted leather seats that line the waiting room. It is all shiny and clean and totally inviting.There are no bad smells or unattractive people,clothing or scenarios here.Gone are the days of my youth spent in east hollywood free clinincs being diagnosed with vague vaginal issues that required a week long dose of flagyll and some good hygeine.The Doctors here in ER Utopia are doing their doctor thing, sashaying around like they were well paid extras.Courtney calls  my name after about six minutes and  I follow her down the hall..She tells me I did the right thing by coming in quickly. Most people wait and their fingers heal crookedly. I suddenly feel incredibly sad for the people who wait too long and have crooked fingers for the rest of their lives. Jesus Christ, the trauma alone of seeing you own blood spurting out of your body should mean a free ambulance ride to the nearest idle ER,with doctors waiting to attend to your every need. I got 6 stitches and a tetanus shot and was on my way in under an hour. I have a follow up tomorrow and will also be getting vaccinated for the h1n1 while they check the stitches,as will my kids if I want. This place is really how it should be.This is what medicine should feel like.
It was painful and scary enough to endure all of the procedures that go along with getting hurt, but it wasn't more traumatic to get it fixed that it was to get hurt in the first place.
They better fix this health care thing....they just to take my Vicodin and go to bed ...oh, and I have been wearing a stupid single glove all afternoon,just like Michael Jackson.Except every time I grab my crotch and thrust into my hand ,I get this shooting pain in my finger.....

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

swimming with sharklets

so... today we have swim class. I arrive twenty minutes early to the carpool line so I can get my kids loaded up first and dash over the notoriously slow and annoying Laurel Canyon Blvd. and, twenty two minutes later, arrive somewhere on Kling Street(whose name alone gave me pause when I started Willa here two years ago- NEVER would have bought there if given the opportunity, imagine every thime you have to give you address...)
 We rush inside the cabana, throw on suits and bathing caps and I shove them toward their respective teachers, who are bobbing about in the 90 degree pool, patiently awaiting our arrival.
The lessons are just adorable.Big yells to Little every time they pass by one another in the pool, which the teacher finally stops. Little  squeals with delight everytime she comes up for air and Big is swimming like such a girl now, no longer a baby or even a toddler. Her long skinny legs crouch down in dive position as the teacher talks her into the pool, bellyflopping and swimming all the way across.
When they finish simultaneously twenty minutes later, each child emerges dripping and exhausted from pool. I wrap them in identical towels and dress them in identical striped pink terry hoodies with their names embroidered on the front. Life is just too adorable and everything matches.Martha Stewart would be proud.
Then we get in the car. Big begins screaming that she wants to hand the cookies ( their shared reward- a small bag of famous amos mini cookies) out to Little.Predicting that Big may give herself the lion's share, I deny and insist on individual bowls to prevent more screaming on the freeway. Little begins screaming because I try and help her get into the car. Suddenly all of the adorable is gone and I am sweating and it is just loud and piercing and I am thinking to myself, "how did this happen?..whose kids are these???these are not my  annoying kids... this is not my chaotic life!! (CUE MUSIC)letting the days go by and the water hold me down/letting the days go by water flowing under ground...same as it ever was ..same as it ever was....same as it ever was ..." David Byrne is a genius...and certainly must have had small children at some point....this is now my theme song...We eventually get to the freeway,after much hissing through clenched teeth and forcing of little limbs into carseat restraints. Each child has her four cookies in her individual bowl  and is happily singing along to Jimmie Crack Corn. I look in the rearview mirror at their wet hair and chlorinated pink eyeballs and savor the moment. Because it won't last long.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009


Oct. 27th, 2009 at 5:32 PM
wow, truly scarry( uh huh...see what staying home with kids will do.. ?I know that it's SCARY, but we often read aloud from Richard SCARRY, so you can understand how it might get a bit confusing) to log in and see that it has been the better part of seventeen months since I last posted....yikers... and I dont even have the energy to start with what I ate or weighed or whatever that stuff was in the beginning posts... kids are now 2.5 and 4.25 and BOTH IN SCHOOL!! however, have gotten flabby in all parts ( physical, mental, spiritual) and was relying on the plethora of free time to become the amazing inspirational and slightly enviable sex goddess at forty, publish my best seller by forty two ( as promised by now deceased psychic)and save at least one aspect of our dying planet before the kids are in elementary school... boy is there a lot to do in the next seventeen months...well, I am back for now, as fat and saucy as before but definitely feeling the future's so bright I gotta wear a whole lotta sunscreen... NPR.... yeah, the real news really brings me down...let it stand for Not Particularly I let my US mag subscription lapse to try and be a less shallow more complete person.. fuck...

sick husband

May. 21st, 2008 at 8:00 PM
day 4 of lifelong blogging
weight: didn't check
mood: slightly cloudy
diet: way too many peanut butter filled pretzels, chocolate mousse cake from whole foods( 1 piece),samosa, tikka masala with tofu

husband came home sick again.... wish I could be sympathetic, but after a whole day of child care ,a sick husband is the last person I want to deal with...... I guess the plus side is that he doesn't want sex......yet....had good afternoon, until Big awoke demanding ice cream sandwiches...when told no became hysterical for the better part of the afternoon..little just watched and learned..... finally crying stopped and attempts to use potty earned an ice cream sandwich... funny how things work... Big spent several hours in Dora underwear with no accidents.....success is near...maybe......skipped chef....writing short story for contest...

a pretty good day

May. 20th, 2008 at 6:05 AM
day 3 of lifelong blogging
weight:153.5 ( yay!)
mood: strangely sunnydiet:melted popsicles, homemade pizza, no green vegetables

well, today was a pretty good day...that could be the glass of wine and bottle of beer talking, but nonetheless a fine day was had... first ballet, where I exchanged "when my husband watches the kids" stories with the other moms..and watched my adorable kid 's "ta DAAH!!! " after trying to hit two postal bells with her slippered foot.....went home, all slept in car until my attempt to move them-little stayed down for two and half hours and big refused. I was pissed, so she was pissed and then eventually began to play on her own... we made lunch together and played a little...planned togo to the park and did.....saw old friends and chatted a little...argued about the HUGE TWISTY YELLOW SLIDE-Big has eyes bigger than brain...last time she climbed up to the top, my husband had to go up and get her down...friend has kid who broke leg...bad slide, very bad slide...won argument with popsicles.....bad parent......made pizza for dinner...bath...jammies...husband came home "with fever" but thermometer read 98.8.......sigh... is now on comfortable side of couch watching basketball game... will soon sit on uncomfortable side of couch and try and convince him to go to bed.....idol finale is on soon.... oh, but I am supposed to be writing my book......

sleeping in..........

May. 19th, 2008 at 9:19 AM
day 2 of lifelong blogging
weight:154.5 ( damn you ,dora ice cream)
mood: crankydiet: pancake scraps, pesto alphabet pasta, pirate's booty, grilled cheese scraps

so, little one was up all night coughing and bitching and nursing.she is 13 months and sweet as pie nut MamaSahm is getting tired of the routine. I need to sleep more or will surely do harm to something or someone in the near future.....just kidding, sort of...Husband got up this morning with Big one ( cheers! FIREWORKS!! hOORAY)which he rarely does without being asked....and I slept for a whole extra hour.... I awoke to this roasting Monday morning in Socal to my darling husband and darling 3 year old making pancakes...oh, yes, they made quite a little mess ,with pancake batter dripping from every cabinet and batter prints on every surface......very Norman Rockwell...He used vegetable oil to start,which spattered everywhere....and didn't bend over quite far enough to see the measuring cup on the bottom shelf,so he used the one from the kids play cook set... I tried really hard to be appreciative, but I ended up cleaning up the mess while they ate all the daughter was pissed that I wasn't more excited ...but no coffee and no sleep makes it really hard to muster up the ability to pretend that a huge mess and half eaten pancakes is the most wonderful thing in the world....perhaps my own fault for not just letting the mess sit... sleeping in is way is a choice between eating shit now or eating it in an hour...whoopie.......maybe I am too cynical to be a parent...

cleaning out the tub...........

May. 18th, 2008 at 7:34 PM
welcome to first day of lifelong blogging
weight: 154 lbsmood: irritable and slightly anxious
diet: pirates booty, fruit leather, 1/2 pint of dora ice cream,amy's microwave mac n cheese

well, as I was setting up this blog,my 3 year old decided to poop in the tub.She told me about it only after sitting on it and grinding it into the bath mat........which required the immediate sacrifice of trusty nailbrush to remove....I rinsed her off and told her to go to her room while I cleaned the tub...not as punishment,mind you, but to prevent her from attempting to shave with Daddy's razor and sample every type of lotion and cream on display.....the poop got stuck in the drain and required plunging and actual scraping with my heavily tissued finger......sigh... I put her to bed, took a 30 second shower and started typing... but now I am in the sahm lane.....surely makes you lose your mind...........

Monday, October 26, 2009

memorial day in afmanistan

May 28th, 2008 1:13pm
well, back from a 6 day extravanganza of no extra child care......went to wine country for the long weekend...discovered a new technique to deal with my darling husband's different way to parent "as a team"..( read mom does 80 percent, dad does 20 percent).It began when we unloaded the car at hotel number 2 and schlepped everything up to our room.he left the luggage cart in the hall, turned on the tv and flopped onto the bed. I was still wearing 20 lb backpack; both kids needed diaper changes and water, all of our stuff was in the hall- so I said" hey, this isn't afghanistan...get up and help me unload all of of this stuff". And he did.....Ever since I have punctuated similar moments with a running commentary on life in Afmanistan. In hushed tones, as if I were reporting it from the field ....I would narrate-" In Afmanistan, the women are responsible for all of the heavy lifting, child care, cleaning and navigating.They must remember to sunscreen their husband's neck, remind him to bring his sneakers and make sure to remind him of where he left his wedding ring while he took a shower.If the husband decided to go work out for three hours and leaves the wife with the kids at the hotel, she is expected to pack up everything, account for all of his missing clothing and accessories and know where it all is at every moment"   ..When he spent too much time in the bathroom, leaving me with two cranky kids in the hotel lobby for ten minutes...." In Afmanistan, the bowel movements of the male have achieved a ritual status, requiring the female to wait for extended periods of time-as if observing the movement...."   It is much funnier in person, but it kept me from killing him when he decided to "take a break" while we were feeding the kids dinner in the hotel room.... take a break? are you kidding? there are no breaks in child rearing...... welcome to the war in afmanistan, kid......