2012. It's here.

Spring makes me incredibly uneasy.  It's my least favorite season, and it always seems to follow the same disturbing pattern of events. 

Right around the time that an entire hour just up and disappears, the restlessness starts.  Soon after, a girl scout comes to the door and hands me a couple boxes of sheer panic (Caramel deLites and I are frienemies). Next thing I know, there's that weird smell in the air and all that is left of winter are those random grey-brown piles of snow that just sit there until they melt into some sort of muddy goo that Kelan just can't wait to stomp in.  Finally, it all culminates in the terror of facing the stores for clothes. Clothes that don't cover enough of my seriously Casperesque skin. *shudder*

It's enough to make me ill.  Or more likely just stressed enough to dig out the boxes of cookies that I had shoved in the way back of the cabinet and eat enough of them to consider starting that weird fast where you drink maple syrup with lemon juice or whatever.

ANYway................

I'm right in the thick of it, and, ick. But there is a huge light at the end of the tunnel; the only thing that will pull me out of the annual spring funk, and just thinking about it makes me smile. That's right guys,

SPRING FREAKING CLEANING TIME !!!!! 

And it's been a superbly awful January through March, so I'm going to indulge, and indulge big time. In fact, don't expect to see me for a week or two. And unless you are at my door with a couple of toothbrushes and some bleach? You're not getting in. 

Peace and love and stuff!   

This might be insecurity talking. Or it could be pragmatism. I'm really not the best judge of this stuff.

I don't know Martha Stewart personally, but I'd really like to meet her... so I could kick her ass, although, she'd probably be able kill me*. And then bury my body in some sort of decorative way. 

Martha Stewart is not responsible for my insecurites, but I do, for whatever reason, correlate the start of this whole make-everything-look-beautiful-and-perfect-so-that-my-psychological-issues-don't-show phase. But I've really only been around since the mid eighties, so what do I know.  I'm sure she wasn't the first to advocate meticulously planned dinner parties and shoving all your skeletons in a box decorated with flowers that you grew and dried yourself. 

Wow. I have gotten off track here.

Kelan is turning 4!

Raising this kid gets more fun and more complicated by the day.  I like to use Kelan's birthdays as a way to pat myself on the back for having kept him alive one more year**.  I know you'd like to think I'm kidding, but this shit is hard! I'm amazed that any child makes it a day past their first steps. And we're talking about a child who eats crackers that he finds under peoples' couches here. Yesterday, I found him in the kitchen trying to open a bag of crackers. With a steak knife.

Naturally we want to celebrate his birthday, but since when has a homemade cake and a few relatives been a sign that you are a crap mom who doesn't know how to decorate your cupcakes with fondant whatever-the-hell-you-think-your-4-year-old-loves?  I have actually given this a lot of thought this year.  Sean and I just couldn't decide what to do.  Our house is small and a hundred years old and does not lend itself to gatherings any larger than about four people. Which is fine, because I hate hosting- it involves way too much pressure. And more forks and spoons than I own. 

Just now, I was paging through a community publication and I came across an article about planning a special party for your child.  It suggests a theme, four dishes that require intensive labor in order to be "on-theme", and suggests that you make your own birthday hats for everyone- the directions of which are mind boggling, and involve several trips to a craft store no doubt. Not to mention, I'm not even sure what "fringe" is, or where it goes.  Here's the best part.  The article tells you to, I kid you not, construct a photo booth complete with homemade costumes for the kids to wear.***

Now, these aren't bad ideas or anything.  To each his own, and if that's the kind of thing you really enjoy doing, go for it! I'm just the type of person who feels insecure at these types of parties.  I feel uncomfortable eating finger food that so closely resembles the animal it was made to look like.  I usually leave wondering if I don't love my child enough. I didn't plan his party six months in advance! I forgot to have an enlarged photo of him framed for the event! I suck!

In the end, Kelan's party will be at a local pizza place. We will invite some close friends and relatives, and we will probably buy a cake from the store the morning of.  There won't be homemade birthday hats, and there won't be any foods shaped like numbers or animals, but I'm not sure Kelan will care.  I hate to say it, but I'm pretty sure all he cares about is the cake, and the fact that he finally gets to be the one opening the presents. I think I'm OK with that. We'll save the "special table with pictures of your child and his many accomplishments!" for when he wins the nobel peace prize.


* She's been to prison. She can probably make some hardcore decoupaged shivs.   
   
** After all, it is about ME.

*** No doubt so that every mom can stand around with their digital camera and take a hundred pics for facebook and twitter. 



P.S. I don't really hate you Martha! Please don't kill me!

Halloween as usual- you know, with knives and cross-dressing and whatnot

          
                                         There were Pumpkins!

 

Kelan carved the crap out of this pumpkin, and he loved every second that he was allowed to wield a sharp object (Which was really only 4, because Sean had eight heart attacks). 





Oh, you were wondering who made that awesome ghost? That was all me.



                                                              And Costumes!!

And I knew I couldn't pick his costume forever, but I didn't know it was going to be such a "process" to settle on something. And the more I think about it, the more I realize that there isn't a lot of difference mood swing-wise between my three-year-old son and a teenage girl.

This is the costume I totally would have stuck him in if I had it my way :



Seriously!! How could that not inspire you to dump your whole bowl of candy in this kid's bag?

And here's the costume that Kelan would have worn if he had gotten his way:

 

Because he's just so sweet and innocent. I think it's safe (and so sad!!) to say, that our respective choices probably had the same percent chance of getting him beat up on Halloween. Because we are equal amounts of "out there", my son and I. Only, he'll probably grow out of it.

So here's what we went with:



Oh yes, he is dancing in this pic. Also, please note the three layers of clothes I made him wear under it. Because WI is cold. And it was daycare's day to deal with the potty breaks. 



Because as long as he stopped pining for that 60 dollar pottery barn witch costume, I didn't care what he wore.   

Screw living vicariously through Kelan. Next year? I think I'll go as Abe Lincoln. Who's having the party?  

And after we brought the guns and booze back to the car, they let us pick some apples.

Because it's fall. And that's what all the cool parents do.

And I wanted to get a posed picture of Kelan but he wasn't game. He just wanted to dance.

And I couldn't justify punishing him for not wanting to pose for a picture. So I just gave up and rage-tickled him.

And even though I had 14 panic attacks, I couldn't stop him from double fisting pesticidey apples.

So Sean threatened to throw him in with this really hairy bull thing. And he finally started bahaving himself.

Except during the hayride when he went and sat next to some random woman and held her hand. But we didn't get pictures of that because I was too busy being mortified. And Sean was too busy laughing.

On second thought, this is exactly what I would expect from someone who shares my genetic make up

I don't even know how to preface this randomness, so I'll just sum it up as "stuff from last week."





Another daycare art project. I was in the middle of telling Kelan how cool it was when I noticed the upper left hand corner. I'm no child psychologist, but this seems worrisome...

Above is the book that Kelan picked out during the last trip to the library. It was most likely just a random pick, but I like to think of it as an enlightened choice.

Also! Kelan has been into fairy tales as of late. I am amazed at how often I have to ad-lib for content, which is hard because I am very anti-censorship, but geez! I was reading "Hansel and Gretel" the other night and I had totally forgotten (or blocked out?) the fact that Hansel and Gretel were actually purposely abandoned in the forest by there parents-- the first idea their parents talked about? killing them off.

Um, content warning?

So, after a couple of years of people telling me that I *needed* to start watching that show "Weeds", I finally caved and checked it out on Netflix. Almost 5 stars! I got through half of the first season.

The result? Mild depression.

It wasn't the show in particular, I'm pretty sure "Weeds" was just the straw that broke this camel's back. Truth is, I'm usually all for dark comedies. I love television and cinema that can subtly (and humorously) point out that life is messy.

I guess, for me, the whole suburban-life-is-effed-up theme is just getting a little tired. American Beauty? Kind of cool. It was a newer concept back then. But now we have a TON of shows that portray affluent suburban life as seedy, scandalous, and even dangerous.

I've been giving this some thought lately, wondering why I had such a negative reaction, and then I took the topic to Sean (Who has been taking in every episode of Breaking Bad that he can get his hands (or would it be eyes?) on. His opinion, "You're giving this way too much thought, It's just entertainment."

Consider me jaded. Or old. Although I prefer disenchanted, by the whole genre. Because when Sean said that, I immediately thought, Forgive me if I'm not "entertained" by the idea of a mother slipping her middle-schooler laxatives because she considers her fat. Or for not understanding the idea of a mother walking in on her fifteen year old having sex with his girlfriend and then sighing, as if she is just mildly bothered. You know, because her son is that precocious type-- the new Hollywood version of witty, adult-kid.

GAG.

So, at the risk of being "uncool," I'm over it. The only thing I find myself thinking about that show is, Why does she need to be a drug dealer to keep up her lifestyle? Geez, I could solve her problem in a week. Sell your McMansion, move, and live within your means? Not great TV, but in my opinion, neither is watching a 30 something year old man have cybersex with a teenager, only to have it laughed off.

So, Two final points to Hollywood.

1) Get over this marijuana obsession. Anyone over the age of 25 that owns and is proud of a bong? Needs to rethink some life choices.

2) Even though the economy sucks, It doesn't make me feel any better to see that it sucks for the poor little rich people too.

This might have come off more angry that I wanted...

Discuss?

Don't become friends with that cigarette, kids - He will cut you.

It's not every day that your husband turns to you and says, "I feel the need to warn you that I might try to strangle you in your sleep."

But that's life these days.

Sean and I are both trying to give up some vices. Because, now that our second child is indefinitely on hold, we figure we will just have to be healthy and live longer... lest there be canes present at any high school graduations.

Sean is trying to stop smoking when he gets stressed, and I'm trying to give up my addiction to refined sugars.

We are trying our best to support each other, but regardless, it's been a bit chaotic 'round here.

Sean is trying that drug Chantix, which apparently has some weird possible side effects*. I am trying to stop my willful ignorance of calorie intake, because, a calorie is NOT a calorie, is not a calorie...or so I'm told. And we are both researching the best ways to get rid of our bad habits.

Which brings me to this:

This is our newest refrigerator art; It sent Kelan's self portrait packing. It's a quitting aid for smokers. This is one of those things that I read, and instantly want to meet the author. The document is entitled, "Your 'friend' the cigarette" and features a list of comparisons between a smoking habit, and a terrible friend.

The comparisons start off innocent,

"How do you feel about a friend that must go everywhere you do?"

Then it gets serious,

"How do you feel about a friend that burns holes in your clothes and has even been known to burn down a house?"

Huh... that's a weird friend...

Then it gets downright scary,

"How do you feel about a friend that carries an arsenal of poisons with him, and every chance he gets, he makes you sick?"

Wow.

And, this is the one that sent me over the edge, into funny visuals and uncontrollable laughter,

"How do you feel about a friend who has been plotting your death since the first time you met?"

Umm. Holy crap. Nicotine is a dick!!!

Every time I walk past this, I giggle to myself. The first thing I thought of was taking a picture of a cigarette somehow wielding a knife next to Sean's pillow when he was sleeping, and hanging that on the refrigerator next to it..but that might send the wrong message regarding my support of his quitting.

Or would it?

*And strangling people in your sleep is not even the weirdest one, by the way.