TH kindly went grocery shopping this weekend and bought some chicken breast for me to make this yummy Chicken Milanese from Smitten Kitchen. After a very trying day with 2.0, I begrudgingly went to start making the chicken. And wouldn’t you know, the chicken had gone bad.

WOOHOO!!!!

Ok, I have 5 minutes to take a shower! All 3 kids are home, 3.0 is in her crib sleeping, 1.0 and 2.0 are watching a show and TH is out on a run. Here we go!

Ok kids, I’m going upstairs to take a shower.

Ok, Mommy.

Remember, no one do anything to anyone or say anything to each other. If there is a problem, don’t yell up to me. I won’t be able to hear you but 3.0 will and you will wake her up. If she wakes up, don’t worry about it, you don’t need to yell up to me to tell me because again, I won’t be able to hear you. You don’t need to come up either because I’ve become accustomed to 3 minute showers and will be out and done before you even know she’s awake.

Now, the dog is outside, so let him in when he’s ready. However, what do we do if someone knocks on the front door? We DO NOT answer it or let them in, only the dog. But you don’t even need to let the dog in now that I think about it because he may bark and wake 3.0 up. So, what do we do if someone knocks? Right, come upstairs to tell me, do not let them in and DO NOT yell up to me. I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO HEAR YOU.

Now, don’t touch or talk to each other. Do not scream at each other. If one of you makes the other mad, immediately come upstairs to tell me and we can deal with it that way. Or deal with it yourselves without yelling about it.

If you get hungry, you can have a snack that you can reach. Here are cups in case you get thirsty. Only get water, don’t get anything from the fridge. If you spill the water, it’s fine, here are paper towels. It’s just water so you don’t need to yell up to me to tell me.

Keep the TV on this show. If anyone wants a different show, discuss amongst yourselves or wait until I am done to discuss it. Actually, here, let me just put in this movie and then there will be no discussion about any of it. Hold on, I’m trying to get to the menu to skip the ads for all the other movies you are going to want me to buy if you know they exist. Ok, movie is playing.

Again, remember I’m just upstairs. If you need me, come upstairs and get me. Here’s the phone, you know how to dial 911 in an emergency. But if it’s an emergency where one of you can come get me then do. Watch this clock. If I’m not done when the clock says this, come check on me in the event I was lost in the bliss of actually being able to shave my armpits that I lost track of the fact that I am still your mom and need to get out of the shower. But if you are sitting and watching a show quietly, there should be no emergencies and I should actually be able to shave both legs as well…a girl can dream.

Ok, do you remember all that? Yes? Well good, you’ll need to remember it for next time because I don’t have time to take a shower now.

OMG, you can’t imagine my relief today! It just occurred to me that I’m totally in the clear with the Princeton Mom. Well, shoot, not totally in the clear but I’ll explain. I realized that I got my MRS degree while attending college…in other words, I went to college and conquered by finding a husband. I mean, it was touch and go for awhile there. I was thinking pre-med but quickly realized how ridiculous that would be and instead chose the obvi choice of Communications Studies…which essentially is an MRS, right?! It was a BS degree…no literally, it was a Bachelor of Science.

Anyway, I should be her example to all. Not only did I land a husband, I landed myself a TROPHY husband. Yay me! #thatshowwedo. It’s a bit of a bummer that she leaves out the heterosexual male population and isn’t encouraging them to land that perfect Blue Ribbon Wife. I would be offended, but she’s very clear on who her audience is. Her message is one of cows and milk, producing it and giving it out for free. “I’ve got nipples, Greg, could you milk me?” She’d be really pissed at my R U Nursing? post where I maybe imply that I’m nursing TH. While we are on the subject of giving milk out for free, I wonder if I should be charging 3.0 for my breast milk…shoot, gotta look into that.

Here’s the problem though. I don’t want anyone to blow my cover that we actually waited until 5 years out of college to get married so we could explore different cities, get graduate degrees, travel and give TH some time to scout out any other trophies or ribbons that may be out there. I know, Susan, I could have lost him to someone else in that time. Then again, I’m starting to remember that one guy that was totally into me post-college that lived in the penthouse of the Hancock building….No! No! Stick to college, that’s where all the good ones are! Marry Smart! That’s the name of her book and I’m so glad it has such a self-explanatory title…it will really help all those ditzy ivy league coeds from marrying dumb.

Because I consider myself a bit of a protege of hers, I’m trying really hard to resist the urge to call BS on her (no, not the Bachelor of Science this time, the actual bullshit). I think this woman figured out a way get her 15 minutes of fame (literally, i think it was 15 minutes). No one knew who she was. Now, she gets to get made fun of on Jon Stewart and the BRW is writing a post in her honor! She’s hit the big time. Btw, Jon Stewart for President.

For argument’s sake, let’s say she’s really got a handle on reality. She’s not the first to hold a more “traditional” opinion on the strategies of how to find a mate. Remember “The Rules”? Those women didn’t have the benefit of social media to propel them into our lives without our consent when they first came out with their clearly helpful and empowering ideas. I think they are doing pretty well regardless. And as a Comm Studies major, never have I ever done a presentation on their book. Hm…do you think I’m gonna drink?

You take a picture of yourself with your Uber driver and post it on Instagram and Facebook when you share the same birthday! 6/6. True Geminis (aka crazy people). I personally believe I made his night with my ridiculous antics and sarcasm. However, I recently learned that as a passenger, I am being rated! Shouldn’t be a problem, right? TH has repeatedly asked me why I feel the need to chat up every stranger I’m with for more than 2 minutes. I have no idea. Maybe it’s a desperate plea for the Midwest kind of human interaction that is lacking in the Pacific Northwest for me. Or maybe it has nothing to do with regional location but the fact that if I chat people up, I have a greater chance of learning something interesting or at the least, getting entertainment value out of it.

The Uber drive was the start to a fun night. We began the evening with a couple of Pimm’s Cups (the BRW drink of choice as you know) at a local underground bar. Then on to dinner at Spur Gastropub. I am generally weary of a pub that includes the word gas in it, but holy crap, every single thing we ate at this place was delightful and it didn’t hurt that the waiter was knowledgeable and funny. I don’t believe in the phrase “food porn” and so my posts will NEVER use that in context nor include a #nomnom. This is not meant to criticize those that do, it’s just my attempt at civil social disobedience. I already gave into the trend of skinny jeans against my will and probably everyone else’s as well, don’t make me become Cookie Monster. So if you are in the Seattle area, go to this freakin’ place. I’m just sad it took us 5 years.

That was the end of the night. But the day in general really exceeded expectations. Your birthday should just be a fun day. You don’t have to make a big stink or have a party or whatever, you just need to have a good attitude. It’s a day that can be distinguished as personal from the other 364 days of the year. That, in itself, is a reason to smile. No matter what, do something for yourself, something as simple as treating yourself to a forbidden food or Frappuccino or a yoga class if that makes you feel good. Your birthday is a big deal. Maybe not to other people, but it is to you.

First up: Treated myself to a massage from Gene Juarez Salon. A trophy wife has a regular masseuse. A BRW has kids who she pays to rub her feet. I don’t do spa treatments very often, so when I do, I want the whole spa experience. None of this, “I know a great masseuse that will come to your house and give you a rub down while you sit and stare at the carpet you need to vacuum, toys you need to clean and children you need to feed” crap. And let it be known, NONE of those tasks were even attempted on my birthday and they definitely shouldn’t be attempted on yours. Well, you can feed your kids, that’s fine. It just so happens that with school and a class party, I didn’t actually have to feed my kids that day, they were fed by Papa John’s.

Next up: Wendy’s Crispy Spicy Chicken Sandwich. Say what you want about eating fast food. I am an adult of sound mind and body who understands the crap that makes up said food. But you know what, sometimes I just want McDonald’s fries or a Wendy’s sandwich. I’m going to do it and I’m not going to be embarrassed or ashamed for putting that in my body once and awhile. It was effing delicious. Even more delicious if you watch Real Housewives of Orange County while eating it. And note, that’s organic ketchup, so I’m gonna go ahead and say that balances out the situation.

D-Day: Hm, yes. My birthday was also the 70th Anniversary of D-Day. But as we all know, I tend to shy away from serious discussions such as that. I took private time to honor those who served and continue to serve, but because it was also my birthday, I then moved on to a different kind of D-Day: National Donut Day. I would love to make a joke about how I would of course be born on NDD, but alas, it’s the first Friday of June which happened to fall on my bday this year. Just a perk! I celebrated with Krispy Kreme because that is my personal choice of donut in all it’s gloriousness.

I was also lucky to receive birthday wishes from over 100 of my closest friends from Facebook. It turns out I apparently had that setting on private (probably some classic BRW experiment where I wanted to see who would be the first to risk writing it on my wall and whether others would follow). I was immediately informed of this blunder in the morning when a good friend of mine sent an email explaining that she was taking a chance on her memory and wishing me a happy birthday despite not having FB to cross-reference that fact. Um, I immediately changed my setting. Are you kidding? FB is DELIGHTFUL for your birthday.

And last, but NEVER least, we topped the day off with my annual Baskin Robbins Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream Cake.

I realize now that my day was very food oriented, so clearly that is my way of celebrating life. What is the ONE thing you do for yourself on your birthday or have someone else do for you? And if you can’t answer that question, it’s time to come up with an answer and implement that on your next birthday.

PS – I did actually go get my Starbucks mocha (iced because it was beautiful outside) but the drinking of it was constantly interrupted by the aforementioned class party where I was running after 2.0 for a good hour. The drink was not missed since another mom from the class (whose birthday happened to fall on one of her class parties) slipped into my purse a mini bottle of whipped cream flavored vodka and the class sang happy birthday with what I believe was a pride month cake with a rainbow.

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted! Mostly due to what I’m referring to as the asshole virus…you can figure that one out. I’m not not above getting sick every so often, but this bout was weird. Usually, a stomach bug lasts like 1-2 days. I’m going on day 4. But it’s doing amazing things for my weekly weigh-in at Weight Watchers.

However, I have not had my Starbucks in 4 days, which is not doing amazing things for anyone around me. Oh, and the fact that I love to eat and that’s the one thing I’m unable to do right now. In 4 days I have had 6 pieces of toast, 10 crackers and two bowls of chicken noodle soup, accompanied by a gallon of Gatorade. I feel fully prepped for a colonoscopy without having to drink the liquid metal.

I have been less than blue ribbon for sure around here. If there was a status above trophy, TH would earn it. He’s essentially been taking care of everything, including me, and he even hosted a barbecue at our house for his work friends. Meanwhile, it is not lost on me that I’ve been bed-ridden during what happens to be the most beautiful weekend and week in Seattle thus far in 2014. It’s also not lost on me that I heard the dog throwing up somewhere in the house (as I mention in my About section) while I was indisposed and I have yet to locate the scene 4 hours later.

In other news, I was in bed while 2.0 (who has been a self-imposed vegetarian since he started solids) asked TH to make him a cheeseburger with a fried egg on top. HOLY SHIT! That’s awesome, it’s like one of my favorite foods in the world and 2.0 ate it. When I came down and asked him about it, he said he loved it, only next time could he have it without the burger part….and scene.

As John Updike said,

The true New Yorker secretly believes that people living anywhere else have to be, in some sense, kidding.

I feel the same way about people who say they love kale.

TH needed a new car. He’s 37 years old, been married 9 years, just had a 3rd kid.

In my mind, I’m thinking, “Here we go, midlife crisis time.”

How our dads did midlife crisis:

How I would do midlife crisis:

How TH does midlife crisis:

Tell me, how would you do midlife crisis?

So there’s a saying, “You should do one thing every day that scares you.”

I think, as a parent, waking up and getting out of bed qualifies.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Last year on the mother of all days, I found out I was pregnant with 3.0. Pretty good way to spend Mother’s Day…freaked out about downloading a 3rd version of the TH/BRW program. But now I get the joy of celebrating with the little love that she is. However, Mother’s day proposes some issues for me (What? No way!).

First, TH asked what I wanted to do for Mother’s Day. I explained that it’s a tough day because if they spend the whole day doing everything I want, letting me sleep in, breakfast in bed, Starbucks in bed, lunch in bed, Starbucks round 2 in bath, dinner in bed, then they are just giving me a taste of the good life…a utopia surely never to exist. So he responded, “Ok, we’ll just leave you alone, grumpy.” Yes! Leave me the fuck alone…now THAT’S a day in honor of a mother. So I said, “That sounds great.” Then he realized his mistake: “No, no, I mean, we’ll just treat it like any other day if you don’t want us to make a big fuss and you’ll be a scrooge about it.” UGH! “Any other day” sounds TERRIBLE.

Second, cards. C’mon. Buying and then actually sending greeting cards is on top of my list of “Worst Errands Ever.” First of all, there are so many to sift through. If you are actually taking the time to get a card, you might as well get a good one, requiring you to look at every. single. card. The task is so annoying and time consuming that you end up only getting for the holiday/birthday at the time, when really, you should invest the whole day and get all cards for the year just to avoid having to go any other time to do it. I’ve caught on to at least buying more cards than I need so I have some leftovers for the next time I’m in a pinch. And yes, I even have this awesome little thing:

But you are so sick of being there after going through all the grandma, aunt, sister, mother in law, blah blah blah cards that you gotta get out of there asap.

Well, if this errand is daunting for me (aka someone who others would argue has “nothing to do all day”), I can’t imagine what it’s like for a spouse who works. Then again, when I got to Target to do this, I am usually with child(ren), increasing the likelihood of spending more money and time at the store while also listening to the background music of “I WANT THAT TOY, I REALLY WANTED THAT TOY….SCREEEEAAAAAAAMMMMMMMM. Oh that card makes music. I WANT THAT CARD, I WANT THAT CD! I WANT TO WATCH FROOOOOOZEEEEEEEEN!!!!!!!” So to help a brotha (aka TH) out, I decided to go ahead and get my own cards this year. But the only one I liked was a “from the dog” card (because it had a Westie on it).

So I got that and called it a day. TH signed it from our dog and my Mother’s Day greetings are complete. But now, I gotta still sign the cards for everyone else (and of course that means the kids have to sign their names…or at least I need to hold the pen in my non-dominant hand and sign their names for them), address, stamp and send the cards with enough time for them to get there Saturday; because how worthless was the whole task if they get there after the day!

But even I know getting a card in the mail amongst the annoying bills and junk brings a smile to anyone’s face. Especially when it’s in honor of being a parent. Sigh. And so it goes, as it will for every holiday and birthday hereinafter.

My response to the always appropriate question of “Are you nursing?”

“Of course! My husband insisted. But I’m formula feeding the baby.”