My dad would be soooooooooooo pissed. He'd fuss. He'd argue. He'd profess outrage. How DARE the City of Bowie try to dictate where people can and cannot smoke when outside, in an open area, he'd declare. He would rant as he breathed through his canula, attached to a constant supply of oxygen. He would bellow while popping 18 different medications. Notice I say he "would," instead of he "will," because he passed away three and a half years ago of smoking-related illnesses. Still, the recent City Council decision to ban smoking on city property, including parks like Allen Pond, would have him …
Mommy (aka “me”) is a practicing nighttime-insomniac. And big brother just got home from school. So... it’s time to try to sneak a nap in. Imagining the gloriousness that is my pillow, I drag myself to the bedroom and climb under my blankie.Ahhhhhh.Comfy.Peace.With little sleep at night, I am usually able to drift off during the day. I revel in these rare moments when my body and brain have the same siesta goal. I close my eyes and imagine floating on a deep blue lake, a cool breeze flowing over my..... "MOMMY." I am jolted back. I sigh and squint at Creature #1—my four-year-old boy child."…
Dear Lord, if, by some odd chance, I should suddenly be arraigned on the attempted murder of my husband, please place me in front of a judge of the married-female persuasion. You see, Lord, it all started one frosty afternoon as I fought a futile fight against a particularly perplexing plumbing problem. The toilet was backed up. My husband (who, for his own safety, we shall not call David), was about to leave for work when said essential bathroom item ceased to… shall we say… function. Desperate, I asked (aka screamed loudly) for his assistance. Unable to help before having to leave for …
Warning: This column is for Ladies only. If you are of the male persuasion and become squeamish at the letters “P” “M” “S,” turn and back away now. Because we are at full PMS overload. And it isn’t pretty. It begins, my Lovelies, with an innocent, “quick run” to the store. I realized my heightened hormonal state approximately 15 minutes ago while attempting to check out at a store that shall remain nameless. (For kicks, though, let’s just say it’s name rhymes with “Tall-Cart.”) I had about ten items. One “20 items or less” line has about six people. The other: one. Guess which one I …
The day before yesterday it was too early to put up the Christmas tree without feeling silly. And now – it’s outta here. Ok. So. My perception of time may be a tad off. But I swear it was only a week ago that I was telling 4-year-old Creature #1 that Santa would be coming after 23 more night-nights. Yet, suddenly, the colorful lights on my house, the holly adorning the Mall entrance, and the stuffed Rudolph I couldn’t live without… are all tacky. The only appropriate references to Christmas in the neighborhood are the dead-Santa-inflatables that lie melted like the Wicked Witch of the …
M E M O to T E E N S DATE: [insert], 2011 TO: [insert child's name] FROM: The Mother of the House ********************************* Please be advised that, despite warnings from friends to the contrary, iPods and their accompanying earbuds do not provide energy, nourishment, or the increased ability to obliterate colorful cartoon creatures who breathe acidic fire. Therefore, it is important to note that you will not fall into an instantaneous coma if the earbuds are removed, or the iPod is (gasp) turned OFF. A doctor may be consulted if you wish, but last research indicates that an iPod is …
I just trashed everything I wrote. One reason is because I assume that readers would like me to write in complete sentences, and another is cause it's just plain fun to drag things into that cute little recycle icon. Since I have been interrupted 47 times in the past ten minutes, my focus was not exactly, well, focused. Thus is the dilemma of the mother who attempts to work from home. Please note the usage of the word "attempts." In constructing the simple paragraph above, I paused no less than six times to find sandals, deal with Boy Child #1 (who refused to eat dinner anywhere but …
I am evil. I am a stepmother. But I repeat myself. Five years ago I was single with cats. Now I find myself parenting teenagers. Two of them. (Sympathy cards can be sent to: Maria Lang c/o "I Cause Eyes to Roll Daily" Halfway House in DailyDrama, Maryland.) With an uninvolved bio-mom, and myself a current stay-at-home-mother to the teens and my toddlers, I find myself in the position of being the primary disciplinarian. Which, to be eloquent, sucks. Currently, as we try to deal with the 15-year-old's difficult issue, I learn that I am being referred to with euphemisms not allowed in …
Its two weeks after Halloween, and Santa is already camped out at the mall. Yes, it's the most wonderful time of the year again. The time when turkeys go on sale, stores put out the creepy dancing Santa, and toy commercials are the only thing on TV. In other words: It's panic time. As leaves fall gracefully to the ground, and the air hints at the smell of snow, some people see festively-decked-out Christmas trees. I cringe at a calendar with not nearly enough blank spaces. Others see a jolly Santa, handing out treats to cherub-faced youngsters. I cry over a nearly depleted bank account and…
Apparently my sister has an opinion. While this in itself shouldn't be surprising, since her comments are about me, I take umbrage at some of her views. Yeah, that's right; I said "umbrage."A few years ago (five, in fact), at the advanced age of [censored], and much to my family's shock and chagrin, I did the unthinkable: I got engaged. Shockingly enough, a wedding followed a few months later. However, the ball truly dropped when, more unexpectedly, I got pregnant. The first grandchild was on the way. Then, 20 months after Boy Child #1 emerged, Creature #2 popped out. I was suddenly a mother …
