Edith's Quick Guide to Dating

It recently occurred to me that after about twelve years of dating and five years of marriage (though it ended in ruins), I have amassed quite a bit of valuable information when it comes to ensnaring a member of the opposite sex and just dating in general. Even though the very idea of going on dates myself makes my blood run cold and my stomach turn, far be it from me to begrudge my sisters a little wisdom I have picked up along my romantic timeline. I would like to preface this list with the disclaimer that these are for dating. This is not relationship advice. You are on your own there.

"OMG! You're so funny!"

1. Be funny, engaging, interesting and quirky. Dates are SUPPOSED to be a good time...so keep a positive attitude. DON'T talk about depressing or serious crap.....especially in the first couple dates. NOBODY likes Debbie Downer.
2. Show a little skin, but not TOO much. Short skirts if ya got the legs, a little cleavage if you're stacked, maybe an off the shoulder is workin' for ya.....NOT ALL OF THESE AT ONCE. At least not if this has any possibility of going ANYWHERE relationship-wise. He will not want to take Slutty McShowsitall home to meet mom.
3. If you don't want to know the answer to something....DON'T ASK!!! Girls do this crap all the damn time and it is annoying.
4. DON'T call. LIMIT texts. I cannot emphasize this enough. How many times have you watched this nightmare drama when your friend likes someone and bombards them with communication. It freaks people out!!! Especially when they are new to you and don't know that you don't "normally" act like that. (Pshaw...right).

If all else fails....this shirt is a GREAT ice breaker.

5. Let him set the tone for communication. Guys need to grow a pair in this field and I'm a bit old fashioned like that. IF he starts getting over-eager with the texting and calling, BACK HIM OFF. Not in a mean way, just setting some ground rules kinda way. IF you don't back him off, you will have a control-freak parasite on your hands and if that's what you are into....well....have at.
6. NEVER clear your schedule in hopes of a date. ALWAYS plan things and keep busy. You can always cancel on a girls night at the bar if a great date comes up....but if you fail to make plans, you will be obsessing about stupid girl bullshit. It is very important to HAVE A LIFE. Also important to note here, the date you desire does not take over this life. I hate those dramatic bitches that always have some guy that is making or breaking their entire existence. Those people are just undateable.
7. DO : Smile, be confident, make lots of eye contact, ask interesting questions, crack jokes (NOTHING is sexier than someone who makes you laugh), make the best out of ANY situation.

8. DON'T : talk about clothing, hair or make-up (he doesn't care), text or call other people while you are on a date (RUDE!),  talk about old boyfriends or bad relationships, and DO NOT sleep with him on the first FEW dates. Trust me on this. Regret is an ugly shade of orange.
9. Plan a fun date. Don't go over to someone's house and drink.....that's not a date, that was high school. Go bowling, see a band, go to a festival, go horseback riding....ANYTHING....but make it fun!
10. DON'T GET DRUNK. Tipsy? fine. Drunks are NOT attractive people, no matter how attractive they are sober. Just keep this in mind next St Patrick's Day and you'll see what I mean.

Okay? Go have fun! I was always great at going on dates, having a great time, making sure my date had fun, and never getting too attached too quickly. That is what dating is about and maybe one day, I'll take my own advice and enter that world again.

A Day in the Life...

Here I sit, bleary eyed, shivery, expended. It is the very beginning of my day and it feels like I am enduring some kind of obscene torture. My day started, in all actuality, yesterday morning. It was decent, busy and fulfilling. Twenty minutes before my workday was over and I was getting the surge of anticipation to get to derby practice, the retrograde into horrible nightmare day began. You know those really terrible days where nothing seems to go your way? You are trapped inside your head watching all this slow-motion insanity just happen to you? Yeah....THAT.
I really don't feel the need to go deep into specifics and become all ragey again so let's just go over the highlights of the past 16 or so hours.
1. The news I got was that I would be in charge of the kids that night....which is against weekly schedule.
2. Pick up kids and disappoint them.
3. Try to compensate by purchasing pre-cooked meals from a clown-endorsed establishment as scrambling to make dinner also sounded pretty shit at that point.
4. Carry said meals, drinks, purse, PRE-PACKED overnight bag, pair of shoes, 5 art projects up terrifyingly narrow and steep stairs to house....only lose one drink in the fall.
5. Split up meals and toys so EACH child gets something of everything and there is no arguing while said children clamor around my feet and scream about receiving toy with purchase.
6. Open toys and dispense to quiet children only to realize said toys make noise. (GAH!)
7. Put in inappropriate vampire movie to entertain children while they eat.
8. Go outside and scream, have a cigarette.
9. Notice landlord walking up driveway who says, "We have a problem." (After discussion, not such a big problem. Apparently I have been paying utilities on the wrong house though.)

My Insane Bendaroo Shark

10. Girl child comes running out of house in only underwear, crying....then wants landlord to wear her leprechaun hat.
11. Pull out Bendaroos for entertainment. Get inundated by insane requests for ponies and a skatepark.
12. Make insane Bendaroo objects for children and am covered in waxy substance rest of night. Quiet cries of dismay when my creation falls apart the minute it is picked up by offering ice cream.
13. While reading "James and the Giant Peach" at bedtime, a toy truck is launched at my head. END story.
14. Spend the first hour of "quiet time" putting kids back in bed, over and over and over again. (Dodged three more flying objects)
15. Daughter won't stop clearing her throat. Already had allergy medicine, wipe her with Vicks.
16. Son starts having gas pains and screams and cries for twenty minutes straight until I finally pin him down and get gas drops in mouth.
17. Repeat last step every hour, on the hour....ALL NIGHT LONG.
18. Wake up at 6am from my 5th power nap with both kids sleeping sideways pushing me off MY bed which is wet and smelly with spilled milk.
19. Go back to power napping and wake up late for work.
20. Frantically getting ready to run out the door, looking for son's watershoes for water play day  and son informs me a giraffe with hands has taken them.....
Fuck it.

I feel like I am on hallucinogens anyway as we stumble out the door and I bark random commands at kids as we load up the car. How the hell does my five year old know what a "buzzkill" is anyway? Off I go....side-stumbling through another day! Thank you Cleveland, you've been wonderful.

Summer Synopsis

I'm not feeling at all ranty today. Perhaps it's just that I alleviated most of my tense, inverted, angry energy last night at derby practice. Perhaps it's because I have been snarky to everyone who crossed my path in the past week or so (ie. more of a dick than normal). I think it's the hazy heat and the lazy mid-summer malaise that just occurs this time of year when all you feel like doing is sipping on lemonade, laying in a swimming pool, listening to the crickets and cicadas as the firefly lights gently sparkle up the evening air. Yup...not ranty at all. I'm feeling quite poetic.

In spite of it's suffocating heat this time of year, it is my favorite. There is an energy that exists in the summer that just seems absent the rest of the months. Outdoor festivals with music floating through the air mixing with the sweet smells of funnel cakes, hot dogs, and popcorn. Those moments when time just seems to stop. The awe and wonder on a kid's face lit by the glow of sparklers. Watching the heat make waves in the air as it reflects off of asphalt. Plopping in a bushy patch of cool grass under the shade of a tree to watch my kids run off and exert the last of their stamina. Completely disregarding the oven and serving sandwiches, chips and fruit for dinner. THAT is what summer is all about.

The Ruination Of Writing

     I'm feeling a little bitter today, so here goes a full on tyrannical rant about a topic that is truly troubling to me. Writing. I love it. Not everyone does, nor should they. I'm not saying I'm an incredible writer or anything. I do enjoy it though. When I say writing, I also actually mean pen to paper, physical act of transforming thoughts into words and images. Typing is just not the same. Fingers touching plastic keys....something gets lost in the translation from the mind. Writing is a beautiful faculty. Penmanship was once seen as an art unto itself. Thus, my disgust with our progression to obliterate this craft completely.
     I collect postcards. They represent so many divine constitutions to me. One thing I love so much about them is that before e-mails, twitters, text messages and facebook statuses, there was this really great uncomplicated way to drop a short note to someone to say hello. Let's face it, EVERYONE loves getting mail that isn't bills or direct mail pieces.....something personal. Postcards allow you to just say the right amount of words without the cumbersome task of composing a letter. Short, sweet, personal. There is great nostalgia in that. The picture, photo, comic or what ever on the opposite side is just a bonus. Most often it's a snapshot in a time     and place the composer wants you to experience as well.

A Tiny Taste of My Own Collection

     Postcards represent such a unique and elegant form of communication I see going by the wayside. I too, am guilty of not sending or receiving any in recent years. I hear about the elementary schools taking the emphasis off of practicing and learning handwriting and cursive. These practices will soon be obsolete and it breaks my heart! I am going to start baby-steps towards my communication revolution! (First by updating my actual address book). I would love to see a resurgence of postcards! Send me your address, I will send you a hand-made postcard. Make this old-fashioned gal a little happier.

The F@*king Mouths On These Kids!!!

      Let's face it, every kid goes through the "cursing" phase. They are going to be exposed to it somewhere, even if you try and shield them from it. My kids are usually okay....not big cussers. On the occasion that they do let one fly, I can at least appreciate that they use it in the right context.

      Coming home from the grocery store JUST as we walked in the door:
       Me: "Oh no. We forgot to get milk."
       Elliott: "Shit............. We need to go back. I'll get Simon."

    I can't exactly reprimand her for this. She used it correctly....and it's use was well warranted. I also believe the more attention you draw to it...the more kids will use it. I have explained certain words that are not to be used by children. I have also explained WHY it is bad to use them. I think maybe that gets overlooked sometimes. Not only are bad words highly offensive to some people, they can hurt feelings, be seen as rude, and even reflect badly on themselves or their parents. I tell my daughter that swearing is for the ignorant. "It's for people who can't creatively express themselves." I have also explained that sometimes, when mommy is really mad.....she forgets to be more intelligent. Happens to the best of us.

     Simon is a WHOLE different ball of wax. He is a two year old (re: asshole) and 1. doesn't know any better 2. understand my explanations of why this is bad  3. give a shit. He likes to kick things or throw them in frustration and yell "Fuck it!" Yes....it is hilarious to see. I DO NOT laugh though. Keep it all in and have a good one after he's crashed. Laughing at this, will also encourage it's further use. His tiny two year old brain thinks, "I am a two year old asshole and I am hilarious when I act awful. Everyone thinks this shit is hilarious. People laughing is funny....I should keep it up." Yeah.....it's not THAT funny. Especially if you are me.

     I like to offer alternative phrases for cursing like cotton-headed ninny muggins, jello-jiggler, pea-spotted carrottron, bug-headed buttspanker, tuna-flavored cheesebandit, or eel-livered sockpastry. The point is to get them thinking creatively and not sounding like foul-mouthed little hood-rats.

Getting the Boot

    So.....the whole Sack Lunch anger rant came directly before my daughter got kicked out of the field trip program I had enrolled her in.....and paid for. I am kind of glad I don't have to mess with that crap anymore...but I was sad for her. She liked feeling big and riding in a bus and all. The reason behind her getting kicked out was stupid. She's a five year old kid. She had to go to the bathroom.....so what if she wandered away to accomplish this? Sometimes, when ya gotta go, ya gotta go! I got my refund, kid learned a lesson, whatevs. I'm over it now.

    This weekend, I took the minions to the pool for a bit to cool off and have some giggles. They had this kiddie whale slide. My kids were going nuts on it completely ignoring the lifeguard's yelling to go down feet first, walk not run, wait for the other kid to get out of the way before going down and so on. Both my kids eventually got kicked out of the little whale slide area. Rather than yell at them about this...I just said we would leave the pool at that point. I wasn't really upset at all about it. The kids were having fun and weren't hurting anyone. I think some rules are just there to be broken.
     This kind of all leads up to my current attitude. I LIKE that they rebel. I like that they aren't afraid to stick up for themselves and what they believe is right (even if they are wrong). It's a trait I intend on cultivating and encouraging in them. Don't get me wrong....I don't want kids that run around all super crazy and disregard all authority......but a little anarchy is good for them. I refuse to raise robots. I want them to think for themselves...not just follow instructions. I want them to learn for themselves which rules are worth breaking and which ones aren't. I want them to test limits....it's how they learn where they stand. This is our theme for the rest of the summer. I am going to sit back and allow them to discover what behaviors work and where they work. I am determined to have our family unit get thrown out of no less than 3 more establishments by the end   of summer! We seem to be on a roll here and who am I to mess with momentum?

Big Hairy Struggle

LOVES being pampered!

At 3rd Birthday!

I LOVE getting my hair done. It's the one time I feel pampered and the only time it ever looks any good. I always schedule my appointments when I don't have the kids to maximize my enjoyment of it. That being said, I only get to do this about once every three or four months. I am totally that friend who would look so much prettier "if she just fixed herself up a bit more." I'm a busy gal.....it's alright if the glamor takes a back seat every now and again.
     I have mentioned before just how much my daughter and I are alike. She is great with haircuts too! LOVES being pampered. I have fun playing dress-up with her and doing her nails, make-up and hair. When she was three, the thing she wanted the most for her birthday was pink streaks through her hair. I couldn't have been more proud. I took her to the salon and fulfilled her wish happily.
    Now let's get to the meat of the blog here. My son. Evil two year old, asshole, nemesis, yet the most angelic face you have ever seen. He hates haircuts. He hates them so much, I will let his hair get crazy shaggy until he looks slightly street urchin before I drag him in. I would let him grow his hair long and beautiful, but he doesn't take after my dark, sun lovin' side of the family. He's gets pink-cheeked and sweaty on contact with heat. Really....I only do it because HE MUST HAVE IT DONE.

HATES haircuts.

      Last night was Haircut Ambush Night. I cannot even describe the misery I endured. I was trying to mentally prepare my spawn for what was to come while some old man kept talking to me and cooing over how cute my son was. Just you wait mister....(inner monologue)....he's about to get A LOT less cute. The old man starts telling my son how cute his mom is. REALLY?!!! How fucking inappropriate can you BE?!!! I try to ignore this douchebucket and get the message through to my son that IF he behaves, he can have ice cream. I repeat this over and over and over until his name is called. He is telling me, "NO! No Mom! NOOOOO!!!!" Deep breaths as everyone in the salon is staring at me. I set him up in the chair, help the stylist wrap the sheath around him while he is kicking, screaming and biting at it. And.......below you can see what the next 15 minutes of my life were like. I FUCKING HATE TAKING HIM FOR HAIRCUTS!!!!