The Crazy Suburban Mom: 2009-07-26

Thursday, August 6, 2009

We couldn't clean up because Yoda's head wouldn't dry...

As most of you know, I'm an early riser. About seven o'clock in the evening I start fading and by eight I'm cursing that all my favorite shows are on too late for me to watch ... and at eight oh five it's pretty much over.

But cut to three or four a.m? I'm wide-eyed and ready to go.

This morning I get up, go downstairs and make coffee... But no matter how awake I am....

I'm never, never ready for this...


The disembodied head of Jedi Master Yoda greeted me this morning.

And not just Yoda but all the flotsam and jetsam associated with
bringing the full power of the force to New Jersey. And it must have been a
mighty battle because look at my kitchen...

Looks like Armageddon was fought in there...


Total economic damage of said battle? My son tells me, $91 worth
of cake mix, frosting, dyes, fondant, pans, skewers, and other general
Ace of Cakes type materials ...Plus a healthy ration of pizza for several teenagers.

Two teenagers are still asleep on my floor, one went home and
my son was up playing the guitar waiting to head me off at the Yoda.


I'm thinking a blast from the Death Star would have been neater.


Although my son assures me it was much worse before they cleaned, and they
could have finished cleaning if Yoda's head had only dried, plus it took some
time to get the dog unstuck from a frosting container....
After it somehow fell to the floor, Ginger dove in.


But they are sure Master Yoda will win today's
day camp cake contest, which was the point of recreating
the epic final battle of The Empire Strikes Back in my kitchen.


I guess the force is really with me because I had another
pivotal moment amidst the chaos and random crumbs .

For all the times I heard my mother coming out of my mouth and cringed... and thought, Oh God, I promised myself I would never say that.

The fact that I could walk into that kitchen (at 4 a.m.) and not scream , and not even feel a scream welling up in my throat... and have a sense of humor... and just clean it up glad they had a good time... Makes me realize I was right and I am different.

I am the kind of mother I promised myself I would be.


You don't know how many times just by being yourself you've helped me realize I am what I've always wanted to be. What a gift you are.

Love you,


Want to read Part 2? CLICK HERE!


Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Diaper carpets

You remember all the rain I've been whining about?

I really do look for the cheese rather then the whine but enough already with the rain.

Sheesh, I say. Sheesh, and desist.

My newest rain related pain in the ass has to do with my car. The driver's side rug is soaked. Soaked through. I thought long and hard what I could say it was "soaked like" and I could only come up with one thing. Here it is...


That's my boy when he actually was a boy and one of his favorite cousins. I'm guessing this picture was taken during the Jersey shore declutter fest of 1993 when he was 2. That was the year he had a thing for brooms and his cousin would moon every camera pointed at her.

As you can imagine I had very few photographic options since they were always together and most pictures of him included pictures of her rear end.

But listen, so you have a two-year old and a pool. You don't put bathing suits on them, at least I didn't; you just let them swim in the diaper, right?

The thing with the diapers is they are made of some crazy absorbent space-age miracle polymer that allows them to absorb more water than a diaper should be able to absorb.... It's more water than anything should be allowed to absorb or be capable of absorbing... with the possible exception of me, and my ultra absorbent friend PMS helped along by a side of Cheetos. But that ought to be illegal, too.


So, 10 minutes in a baby pool and the diapers end up weighing, what? 20 ... 30 pounds and frequently outweigh the babies. And oh boy, if for some reason your on the back side of a mass exodus from a baby pool? All you see is a wall of little baby plumber's cracks with 30 pound diapers barely hanging on above little fat baby feet running every which way .

So I want you to visualize that gooey out of the pool 30 pound diaper feel and now imagine stepping on one every time you get in your minivan.

And I'm hoping this helps.

***I've never used this stuff before but DampRid sure sounds promising. I happened to find it this morning in rite-aid while I was in there trying to let my shoes dry. Any other ideas? I'm open to suggestions before my feet start molding***


This weeks weight loss totals and my hatred of camping...

I looked all over the internet for a visual
representation of my weight loss to date.

This week I'm going with...


... a Coleman H/T Two-Burner InstaStart Propane Stove!.

Now, while this lovely Coleman stove would "happily satisfy most any portable-cooking needs," I won't be satisfying anyone's portable cooking needs. I wouldn't camp on a bet... Who needs to sleep with twigs up my butt when they have places with room service and cable?

We do however share one thing...

A weight of just over 12 pounds. I lost it and the Coleman weighs it.


Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Retro Tuesday's salute to Jello

retrotuesay stamp

I have a morbid fascination with scary Jell-o recipes.

Not fascination that makes me go, Nom, nom, nom to the fifth power, I would SO eat that for breakfast, lunch and dinner.... but the way you look at something and can't turn away because it's just so freakishly weird and I'm embarrassed to stare but I can't help myself so I'll peek through my fingers and pretend to be covering my eyes.

I've always wondered what made people serve these jiggling jeweled-colored protoplasmic wonders. I've seen the photographs; they look like everything that was meant to be thrown down a garbage disposal was instead suspended in florescent awful for posterity. Had these shining gel-encased time capsules not been eaten I'm sure they could still be on display.

Maybe they still are. I should write the Smithsonian and ask.

I ran across an ad this morning that must have made gel cookery irresistible to young wives.


Easy, fun, nutritious, man-pleasing, low cost...

But still.

Who could eat this?


I mean?


What made Dream whip, mayonnaise, chicken and jello....a good idea?

If you want to use any of the ads I post I'm cool with that but please link back to me - you should be able to cut and paste this one The Crazy Suburban Mom.


Blog Hop Encouragement Mcklinky

This week’s Blog Hop theme is “ENCOURAGEMENT quotes”.

I don't do a lot of these but I like this one a lot and it reminds me of a Wayne Dyer quote - I love Dr. Dyer.

He says: There are so many people in this world looking for occasions to be offended and they’re almost never disappointed.

So true, Dr. Dyer, so true. If you spend your life looking for opportunities to take offense, get angry, feel insulted.... You will rarely be disappointed.

This is Dr. Wayne Dyer's newest book, Excuses Begone.

MckLinky Blog Hop


Monday, August 3, 2009

Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to throw up everything I've eaten since the 90's...

Normally, I have a fairly strong stomach.

Except for vomit. A hint of a wretch and it's all over. This has nothing to do with that but I'm a quivering mass of ready to toss a lunch monkey thank you very much so if you have a weak stomach... move on.



Friday I noticed this lump on my back up under my bra. After some calisthenics involving two mirrors and a digital camera I got look.

It was a big red (quarter-sized) lump surrounded by an even bigger area of red skin. And it was sore. Really sore.

I did the normal thing under the circumstances.

I shrugged, named my lump Verna and tried to ignore her.

Over the next few days Verna continued to get larger and more pissy about being ignored; calling more and more attention to herself by the hour. Last night she howled every time I rolled on my back and even poked me when I tried to sleep on my left side. Considering she was only marginally to the left I was getting concerned. And awfully tired.

I woke up this morning exhausted and positively ill. I had a fever, was wildly nauseated and was unable to ignore Verna who continually pecked at me from the inside out.

I made an appointment with my Doctor because me and Verna? It was time to put an end to our tumultuous whirl-wind relationship. And it wasn't going to be pretty. It never is.

I waited all day for the appointment biding my time but mostly trying not to throw up.


I'm home with a remarkably small bandage considering the drama, a prescription for antibiotics and the sense of relief you feel after a messy break-up. And yes, it was painful and messy....and there were tears. As there are with many endings when one party doesn't want to go and one wants them gone. Very, very, very much.

In the end all I can say is... If you're faced with an infected cyst named Verna? It's nice to have a pretty blond doctor in a daisy-print dress with a very sharp scalpel who can assure you with a straight and honest face that not only is this NOT the grossest thing she has ever done, it's not even the grossest thing she's done this week.



Sunday, August 2, 2009

Stuff I don't get # 2

Old ads.

So wacky.

So wrong.


So very, very, wrong.


Saturday, August 1, 2009

Stuff I don't get #1

My phone rang yesterday in the grocery store and like a million times before I got a collective dirty look from all within earshot.

It's not that they were doing anything special it's just that most people seem to regard my ring tone as a hideous offensive awful. See, my phone rings. It sounds like a phone. A clanging old-time phone with a, you know, bell?

I can't wrap my mind around why my ringtone irritates people so. Plus....Not fifteen minutes before I got the canned food aisle glare-down ; the produce aisle was all a-giggle as another phone alerted with with a string of burps and farts the likes of which I haven't heard since my son's 11th birthday party...

Granted, that phone belonged to an 8 year old boy but that brings up another thing I don't get....

Why is it a good idea for an 8 year old boy to have access to ring tones?


Want to share something you don't get?


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