Here on the frontier, There are falling leaves, Although my neighbors are all barbarions…And you? You are a thousand miles away. There are always two cups on my table.

Archive for July, 2011

By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he’s wrong. Charles Wadsworth

When China was a little bug, (my daughter not the country), her sleeve caught fire. We were lighting Hannukah candles when she reached over the burning flames. I slapped the burning sleeve out. Husband and I examined her burned sleeve and her arm amazed that the flames never touched her skin.

Something similar happened to Egg, (my second daughter not chicken fetus). We do a lot of candle lighting in our religion. She wanted to blow out the Sabbath candles when her hair caught on fire. My mother standing nearby and I brushed the fire out as fast as it started. Egg was fine.

She turned her 3-year-old self around and smiled at us wondering why we were patting her head. She never knew how close she came to setting herself on fire.

If you are a parent then you know what I’m talking about.

You’ve swept food out of little mouths before they choked. You’ve caught your child mid-fall in the playground and set them on their feet to run and play.

For older kids. We fill the gas tank when we know they are going out. We check the tires. Twice.

The 17-year-old boy that comes to pick up your 14-year-old daughter for a date!?

That boy never makes it in the house! You know what I’m saying?

We watch out for the foreseeable problems our children are headed toward and run interference.

Kids, they are like the quarterbacks running with the ball. They may not see their teammates (parents) behind them tackling the opposing players, but they are there.

Funny. If a touchdown is made they dance around like monkeys. If an opposing team member takes them down they are just as likely to look around at their own team(again,it’s us,parents)  and say, “Where were you guys?”

It’s often a thankless job parenting. Until our kids have children of their own they may never understand why we do what we do.

“I’d catch a grenade for ya, put my hand on a blade for ya..”.  Heard that song?  It shouldn’t be a boyfriend singing to a girl.

It should be the parent’s anthem.

This is gmom.

peace out.

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Animals, They’re All Animals!

My favorite is the beat-box rodent.

What’s yours?

This is gmom,

peace out.

Norway. Now What. Gmom’s Thought’s From Baltimore

For those following my blog.

Husband is home.

Mission accomplished.

I may be able to loan him out to FEMA. He is good.

It’s quiet in Baltimore tonight. Warm and sweet. Cujo and I are doing our usual patrolling of the grounds. Heat lightning is firing every few minutes.

Unless you live under a rock you have heard about the atrocity that happened in Norway on Friday. A lunatic planting bombs in Oslo then went on a killing spree at a youth camp.

Security is not tight in a country unused to such violence and better known for awarding the Nobel Peace Prize and mediating in conflicts, including the Middle East and Sri Lanka.

Breaks gmom’s heart.

Man dresses up like a police officer to gain access to the summer camp than mows down the kids with an automatic weapon.

In Boro Park, New York a few weeks ago, 8-year-old Leiby Kletsky walking home from day camp was picked up by a man who murdered and dismembered him. He put the boy’s body part’s in a red suitcase and kept the child’s feet in his freezer for himself.

In the search for Leiby, 3000 people hit the streets. A store’s surveillance camera caught the boy going with the man in to his car leading the police to resolution of the case. The boy was an orthodox Jew, the man he went with wore a yarmulke and looked liked an orthodox Jew.

Here in Baltimore recently there were 3 cases of men banging on residents doors saying, “Baltimore City Police,open up.” And the people did. People were tied up, men were shot, homes ransacked.

Use to be you could tell children if you are lost go to a woman.

(Now we have Casey Anthony on the street)

Use to be you could tell children if you are lost go to someone in a uniform.

It’s a different world.

What do we tell our children now?

This is gmom,

peace out.

Good Gifts (and bad) For Wives : Husbands You Can Take Notes On This

Everyone likes to get a good gift. A gift that demonstrates that the giver really thought about what the the receiver would like.

Women are typically good gift givers. Men not so much.

So I’m doing you guys a favor and spelling it out for you.

Newsflash!  Flowers are not a gift. They are a thoughtful gesture or an accompaniment to a heartfelt apology.

Roses go really well with, for instance,… “I borrowed your car,

left the tank on empty and didn’t tell you.

I am fully accountable for you being late for your meeting.”

Newsflash!  Unless the girl is a teenager don’t give candy. Almost all women are watching their figures and don’t appreciate the sabotage.

It’s a classic blunder.

If we want chocolate we’ll buy it for ourselves.

Good Gifts:

1. Diamond stud earrings. Guys don’t try and get creative with all the pretty colored stone  jewelry out there.

The classic diamond stud can be had pretty inexpensively. Just one word of warning don’t buy the size for infants unless your wife is a dwarf, then it might be okay, I’ll check.

2. Gift Certificate to a spa. Most women will really appreciate your thoughtfulness. Showing your love by giving her some pampering is going to win you big brownie points.  Most guys think their gal wants to spend her special day with him.  I don’t know why guys think this.

3. Gift Certificate to her favorite shoe or clothing store. Don’t risk buying what you “think” she would like and worse yet, guess her “size”. That’s a night on the couch for sure. And don’t buy sexy lingerie guys, it’s so self-serving.

4. Short on time or inspiration? Buy a Kindle and a beautiful card with a return gift receipt. She will love it. Unless she is blind and only reads braille. Then you screwed up.

Bad Gifts. Very very bad.

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1. Membership to a gym. (Can you spell divorce court?)

2.Gift Card to Home Depot.

3. An Appliance.  Unless it’s something she specifiacally asked for, found the one she wanted and taped a reminder to your shaving mirror.

4.A home cooked dinner. No explanation needed right?

5. A mop. Thanks to Silverado for this one. Inspired.

Guys I just want to say, your welcome.

I know you needed this information.

Gmom is here to help. I’m just like that. I’m a helper person.

Now, what was the best and worst gift that you have received?

This is gmom the helper person,

peace out.

I Found My Happy Place! He Wears Diapers!

 

The organic baby made his first project in daycare!

Marshmallow Fluff smeared on a paper plate with Fruit Loops stuck on it!

 

And he’s a cheap date!

Ya gotta love that!

Next time I go looking for my happy place I’ll start looking while on my knees but this time…

I’ll open my eyes.

Love to all.

This is gmom,

peace out.

Where Is My Happy Place? Can I Borrow Yours?

Have you ever been told to go to your happy place?

Go in your mind to the one place on earth that you most want to be,

A beautiful beach.

A mountain meadow.

A rolling hillside in Ireland.

A holy place you once visited and never forgot.

So many times I’ve coaxed women, who in the clutches of labor pain to envision their happy place and go there.

I’ve spent hours whispering to them words of encouragement, that they can endure, that they can breathe through the most intense pain, and most often they do. I leave them holding their perfect beautiful infant at the breast.

In the last few weeks, so many people have told me to go to my happy place.

I’ve searched for it. I’ve even tried physically to go there.

What a crock.

I’ve gone through 6 labors unmedicated.

I’ve had my spinal nerves ablated.

I’ve done it before, I’ve found the strength to go …somewhere.

But now…I’m lost.

My happy place must have gone with the recession.

I can’t feel my strength, my breath.

How can I find my happy place if I can’t find myself.

Where did  I go ?

Alcohol: It’s What’s For Dinner. Featuring Cujo The Dog

Cujo The Dog Ready For A Fun Evening

Husband is gone for the duration.  Saving lives, solving problems, hopefully not reading this.

Me. I’m enjoying a nice summery beverage.

Whiskey straight.

Straight out of the bottle  while standing at the kitchen sink in case I gag. Bad reflex when one is not use to drinking. I use to drink. Pretty pink and soft snowy colored drinks with fruit. Dressed up with girlfriends, going out,dancing, pretty, flirty.

See what happens when you have kids! You are reduced to slugging booze over the kitchen sink. Effects the same though.

I’m funnier, I’m pretty and I’m great company. Just ask Cujo the dog, who by the way has suddenly learned English. I know! I (hic) can’t believe it either!

Say something Cujo

I in turn have learned to bark. So between his English and my barking we’ve pretty much got the dictionary covered.

It turns out Cujo greatly resents my keeping an organic kitchen, and frankly I can’t seem to remember why I do either.

I don’t really care about cows. I’d eat most any animal if it’s seared properly and has a nice char.

Cujo! Come back here! Play inside.

Cujo would be yummy I bet.

Americans, we don’t eat dogs or cats.

It’s a cultural thing.

In the Asiatic countries people eat all sorts of crap delectable yummies. Monkeys, dogs (including border collies) bats, snakes.

Cujo let's pretend your the crinimal and I'm an (hic) ociffer.

I’m certain if Taco Bell made a Border Collie Burrito we’d all be chowing down no problemo.

Juco why you hanging with Bart inside come on don't be ascared-redy-cat.thing

Where my little buddy Cujo go?

 Cujo, here Cujo.

I dunno whas goin on with Cujo. He usually (hic) very friendly.

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Cujo actually goes in and out of the house through the opening in the screen at the door.

Alas, since last evening he has lost all ability to speak..and won’t come near me.

I’m sure in a few weeks he’ll get over it.

This is gmom,

peace out.

Down The Rabbit Hole

For all  of you following my blog husband is still away overseas.

Here is what has changed at  home while the man who holds the string of your kite is gone.

Number one: You might accidentally kill one or  2 of your children.

Normally, in the night Bart comes in, he drives ones of the biofuel trucks and comes in at 3 or 4 a.m. I’ll half wake up and hear him kick off his shoes, shuffle into the shower, scrounge around the kitchen and go to bed.

But without husband here, I immediately reach for the gun.

I go up the stairs gun poised, ready to defend against any intruder. It never dawns on me that Cujo is upstairs happily bopping around.

Bart turns and sees me. Without a word he takes the gun out of my hands, removes the clip and tells me to go back to bed before I hurt myself.

Okay,sorry.

Number 2: You might let your guard dog sleep on your husband’s $200 Brooks Brother’s robe, maybe even on the bed.Everyone needs to be special sometimes.

Number 3: You might stop taking showers  often. I mean what’s the point? This goes for changing into nighties as well.

Number 4: You may suddenly realize that a plate of french fries makes a perfectly good dinner, even better while eaten in front of the TV.

Number 5: You may realize that you don’t have to water the “effing lawn everyday, or pick up your dog’s  poop. I mean who made these rules anyway? Poop is organic..it’s like compost.

Number 6: Turns out you don’t have to go and check on your neighbor just because it’s 103F outside. Just a big “ole, hope you’re still alive Edna!  Yelled out an open window does just fine.

Number 7: You have the opportunity to go though all husband’s secret guy stuff. Unfortunately this has yielded nothing! Nothing!

I hope this give you some good ideas for the next time your superhero flies off.

This is gmom.

Down the rabbit hole.

peace out.

A Man’s Life

My husband is away.

Doing family business. Kind of heroic stuff. So while I sit home and do my small tasks, go to work, annoy the children, and worry my face into a topographical map. He took matters into his own hands.

He sat in the American Embassy for 8 hours to update his passport in one day at a cost of well….don’t ask.

He bought a ticket out of the country. Remembered his blackberry and my laptop and the boy is gone.

So what is a man’s life anyway.

I’m sitting at his desk. As usual it’s a mess. Little papers with names and numbers, messages scrawled all over it. A filing system I bought him for Father’s day sits unused right next to the monitor. Post it notes stuck to the wall!

Hand sanitizer, a mug one of the kids made eons ago filled with maybe 50 pens, most that don’t work, a calculator. His work jacket sits on the back of the chair smelling of trap grease..and him.

My dog Cujo’s cage sits right by his desk with his jar of treats right on the desk. He hates Cujo.

At least he always says he hates Cujo..

My desk is different.

I dust it.

I have a total of 2 pens and a legal pad.

There’s face cream and an eyebrow tweezers.

A jar of Exedrin and vitamin water.

3 pictures of the children.

My laptop.

Zyrtec.

That’s it.

This isn’t what I thought marriage would be like when I was a little girl running around with a pillow case on my head playing ” getting married”.

I never played “marry” with my girlfriends and said “Let’s pretend we have no money, our houses are too small, our children have problems , our husbands never pick up their dirty clothes and don’t even know how to load a dishwasher…yeah let’s do that!!!”

I never thought “marry” would be a messy desk in my ultra clean home, and a stinky jacket on the back of the chair and dust bunnies underneath the desk that look like shag carpeting in the worst color ever.

When I played “Marry” as a little girl I never fleshed out the guy in the fairytale, he was always an obediant shadow person.. you know a silent partner. I don’t think I even envisioned the guy living in the same house. He just brought a diamond ring and that was about it for his part. Ha!

I never imagined the silent partner would turn out to be my  hero.

This is gmom,

peace out.

 

Sex Offender Registry: Check Out Your Neighborhood Today!

One should feel safe in their own neighborhood, wouldn’t you agree?

 In my zip code there are 157 registered sex offenders.

 People (if you can call them that), that have raped children, hurt them

 sexually and get their nuts off on trading pictures of naked children. 

The second thing that bugs me are the innocent parents who stupidly put their children out on nthe sidewalk hailing down cars to buy a cup of lemonade.

I stopped today by a little girl to buy a cup.

 I never got out of my car. She reached in the car window to hand me the cup.

I held back the the money so she had to reach in again.

I asked her, “If I wanted to know your name, or how old you were or where you lived, what would you say?”

“Well I live right here at 34 Ivy Drive, I’m 8 years old and my name is Emily.”

You’re a smart girl. Where’s your mama.

I went to the door.

I tried as gently as possible to talk with the mom.  This neighborhood just isn’t safe for her child to be on the street like that.

“Oh I am watching her from the window.”

Lady, while you’re watching from the window. I’ve hauled her into my car.

Think about it.

I left with a loud “Who in the hell do your think you are!!!” Ringing behind me.

157 registered sexual offenders in my zipcode.

How many in yours?

This is gmom,

peace out.

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