Midwestern Mommy

Um. Hi. Remember me?

Well, its been pretty crazy around here. Most of the craziness has been what I call “happy chaos”. There’s soccer games, family gatherings, friend gatherings, preschool and whatnot. Fun stuff see? Social, happy stuff! (But there was also some unfun crazy stuff. But hopefully that crap is ovah.)

So anyway… Ya know what I’ve noticed more and more lately? Is that “Tweed” apparently is here to stay. (Please see “Tweed” post if you have no idea what I’m referring to.) Seth’s alter ego Tweed is quite “squirrelly”. Tweed’s personality is a mixture of a Dalmation on crack with ADD and Jim Carrey’s character from Ace Ventura Pet Detective.

I don’t consider hyperactive, unfocused, squirreliness to be an attractive quality in a person –especially when that hyper squirrelly person NEVER STOPS TALKING. Quite honestly? The boy is DRIVING ME CRAZY. At first I told myself that he’s probably much better behaved at school. But then I volunteered at his preschool on Wednesday. And I learned that, nope. He’s just as wild and unfocused there as he is at home. His poor, poor teachers. Methinks their alcohol consumption has tripled since the beginning of the school year. Kinda like mine has.

I keep hoping that this squirrelly-ness is a phase that he’ll outgrow it in the next weeks. Or at worst, in the next few years. But I also keep reminding myself that if he doesn’t? Most women don’t think the squirrelly guys are sexy. (Don’t get me wrong — funny is sexy. John Stewart? Funny. Sexy! Carrot Top? Squirrelly. So very UNsexy. See?) And the good thing about that is when he’s in high school? I won’t have to worry about him inadvertently making me a grandma.

Sorry I haven’t updated in awhile. Life has been busy and stressful. I hope everyone has a happy Friday. Sorry I haven’t gotten to read any blogs this week. I’ve missed hearing everyone’s stories and finding out what’s going on in your lives. I’ve been thinking of ya’ll.

Hope to catch up next week. Hope your weekend is happy.

Take care.

You know all of those cheezy inspirational posters that you see in the occasional office or cubicle? Well, the mastermom behind Motherhood Uncensored challenged her readers to create a few. It was too fun to resist. Here are mine. And here’s some of the other participants’ efforts as well. (Oh and don’t forget to look at this mommy’s posters too!)

For quite some time, Seth has had an imaginary friend. His name? Jackson.

And all was well until the day Jackson started pulling the dog’s tail, hiding stuff, and throwing food. Apparently, Jackson was also the one who peed on the walls, wastebasket, and floor of the bathroom several times. Because when we’d confront Seth about such matters, he’d tell us earnestly, “Jackson did it.”

Yeah, that Jackson was a pain in the ass. So when he finally left for good, I was all “Yipee!” Jackson got the hell out of dodge a few days after Seth befriended a boy named “Jack”. I guess invisible Jackson couldn’t compete with real boy Jack who has a pool, plenty of trains and kick-ass swingset WITH fort. Go figure.

So this summer, we’ve enjoyed some Jackson-free time. There was no blaming the dog or Jackson for the general mischief. Actually, there wasn’t much mischief at all. Oh happy days!

But then we went to Mexico. (My God, will I ever stop talking about that trip?) Seth was thrown into an entirely new environment. New smells, sights, people, language, foods. Even the trees and sand were different. Finding yourself in the midst of an unfamiliar place and culture is unsettling to many adults. Most young children probably find it quite stressful too. But Seth showed little distress. He soon got over it with the help of “Tweed” — his alter ego.

While vacationing, he was jonesin’ for some kid contact. So by the second day of the trip, he was approaching other kids with a bit of our help. He’d engage them in long monologues (good Lord, that child is his father’s son!) about his Matchbox cars, his grandparents, and his cousins. He also loved to ask them, “Can you do this”? (insert silly noise or silly jump into the pool here.)

He’d eventually ask the child his or her name. And when they’d ask him his? He’d always answer, “Tweed.”

I’ve heard of guys giving fake names to chicks in bars, but this?

We soon realized that when Seth was being “Seth” he was shy and quiet but sweet. When he was Tweed? He was loud, outgoing, crazy, silly, and rambunctious. Like a dalmation on crack with ADD.

At one point I wondered if we left “Seth” in Mexico eating fishsticks with the homeless kitties we saw on the beach. Much to our chagrin, we apparently brought back Tweed. Tweed seems here to stay. But it hasn’t been all that bad.

The “Tweed” persona has helped Seth befriend several kids at preschool — on his first day. Tweed is having a blast at school. (Actually the kids at Seth’s school think his name really is “Tweed.”) Tweed loves adventure. He’s the kid who wants to run around and play soccer. Tweed tries new foods. Tweed likes cheese quesedillas and fried rice. Tweed? Even likes him some Lebanese food. (Riz Touk at Saleem’s in the U-city Loop.)

As our new routine has been established, life has settled down to a comfortable rate of chaos. Bits of our old Seth are slowly starting to resurface — though still infused with a whole mess of “Tweed”. But the past few weeks have been an enlightening and interesting ride. To say the least.

So I have this favor to ask of ya’ll…

Here’s the deal. My good friend (and cousin), Linlee, aka Little Miss Sassy and her hubby are wonderful, compassionate, intelligent people. They have an amazing marriage. They are best friends who respect and support each other. If you’ve been reading this blog for a few months, you’d know that they are the fun, beautiful couple we love to hang out with. (Did you click on this link yet? Because you should. Hello! Both of them! Total hotties!)

If you read her blog, you’d know that they’ve been battling infertility issues for quite some time. It has been a heartbreaking experience thus far. Their first attempt at IVF was halted midway due to some complications. But next month they plan to try again.

If you’ve gone through IVF or know someone who has, you know that it is very expensive and emotionally exhausting. And there are shots Linlee has to take! With big needles! They have had to sacrifice quite a bit to get to the point they were at this past August. So when things didn’t work out, there were alot of tears shed — by not only them but by many people who’ve been hoping, wishing, and praying for them.

A few months back when I placed ads on my site, I told ya’ll the proceeds would help offset adoption expenses (should we decide to adopt) and fund ALS research. As of a few weeks ago, I decided that the funds would be split equally between the ALS-related cause and helping my cousin offset some of her IVF expenses.

Although Marc and I would like to expand our family, we feel pretty lucky. We already have a child. And we KNOW Linlee and Brinnon would be fabulous, involved, patient, loving parents. So right now we are sending all of our prayers, hopes, wishes their way.

So my favor is this: please click on the ads you see on this site. And please remember to click on them in the future. Every click brings Linlee and Brinnon one step closer to living their dream — a dream so many people take for granted. And don’t forget every click also helps generate revenue to fund ALS research.

On Monday morning I made a discovery that pretty much soured the entire weekend. Sometime during late Sunday night/early Monday morning, my purse had been stolen.

The car wasn’t broken into. The culprit didn’t have to make that kind of effort. In the craziness that was the weekend, we didn’t put the car in the garage. The hubby had forgotten to lock the vehicle and I had forgotten to bring my purse in the house. We were both completely exhausted as we spent Friday, Saturday, Sunday working our asses off at a feverish pace to get our other house ready to be put on the market.

What sucks is that the scrawny little fuckers (the cops, the hubby and I are pretty sure it was most likely a neighborhood teen) took my favorite purse and the following contents: two camera phones (I had grabbed Marc’s the other day because mine had a low battery), our digital camera, wallet, various credit cards, bank card, favorite Burt’s Bees tinted lip balm, my favorite eye shadow compact, $80 in cash (and usually I NEVER have that kind of cash on me) and my favorite-est photo of Seth evah. Oh and my social security card.

I have a pretty good idea of who probably snatched it. But I can’t prove it at this time. But let me say this: if the pasty little shithead I’m thinking of really did take it, I’m gonna string him up by his teeny, tiny little nuts. (And if the pasty little shithead happens to be reading this, I just want to tell him: that new haircut you got recently? Makes you look like an updated “Blanche” from The Golden Girls. You may think its very “rocker chic” but honestly? That is one prissy, old lady, candy-ass haircut. Plus, if you go for “rocker chic” you need to at least know how to play a damn instrument!)

We will prosecute to the fullest extent of the law — especially if the police end up catching the person we suspect. And if this kid whom we suspect goes to jail, I hope a large, well-hung dude with anger management problems makes this little thief his bitch and treats this kid to donkey punches on a regular basis.

I’m sure that WHEN we’d press charges, this kid’s sue-happy parents would probably stop trying to befriend us. (Aka come over to our house to mooch food, a beer or free babysitting services.) The suspected culprit and his family are the proverbial “turd in the punchbowl” of our happy, fun little neighborhood. So on the other hand, maybe he’s just done me a gigantic favor? Because honestly, I would pay a tidy sum to get him and his family out of our hair.

And if the thief isn’t reading, that’s ok too. Because if he is caught, he will never see it coming.

Now, if you will excuse me. I have to go eat some candy or pop open a bottle of wine. Because every time I think of my purse, that kid or his family? I can feel my blood pressure shoot up like a rocket. And just that in and of itself makes me angry. Because they aren’t worth it.

I’m thinking of writing a children’s book on our experience of replacing our countertops. (We got the countertops replaced two days after we came home from our vacation.) It would go something like this:

Chapter 1

The countertops are old and bad.

Watch Lisa beg for new ones.

Beg! Lisa, Beg!

See Marc agree?

Nod, Marc Nod!

Watch Marc and Lisa drive to Lowes.

Hear Lisa and Marc argue over colors?

Fight, Lisa, Fight.

See Marc win?

Chapter 2

See subcontractor overestimate measurements and infate the bid?

Re-measure, Marc, Re-measure!

See Marc call them on it?

Ha, Ha!

See savings account dwindle once final bill comes in?

Bye, bye money.

Chapter 3

Watch Marc clear out cabinents the night before installation?

See Lisa sprint to the bathroom because she’s still sick?

Bad Mexico, bad!

Chapter 4

See subcontractors install the countertops?

Go, subcontractor, go!

See them vaccum the dust from installation?

Watch Lisa droll? Cute young men! In her home! Vaccuming!

See Marc and Lisa wait for backsplashes?

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Chapter 5

See young men arrive with backsplashes?

Watch Lisa bribe workers to hook up the water?

Bribe, Lisa Bribe!

Whew! It is all done.

Marc and Lisa are very happy.

(And very happy it is over with.)

The End