Top Ten Things Mariah and Nick Should Know On the Birth of Their Twins
Having done the twin thing twice, I offer the following advice:
10. Don’t go anywhere with the babies, ever
9. Leave the kids in diapers until your family has been talking about you for at least 6 months
8. Remove all coffee, occasional tables or anything a toddler could climb on– or you could throw
7. Breastfeed — it keeps you from having to do anything else, and it’s like great diet where you can eat whatever you want
6. Forget the cute outfits for the babies, keep them in sleepers with feet or onesies — all the time
5. Forget the cute outfits for yourself, start shopping at Target, their stuff is washable
4. Learn to sleep sitting up
3. Know that for the first year, your children will be called, by you,
” This One and That One”
2. Ignore all unsolicited advice, except for the next one . . .
1. If you didn’t get your tubes tied, re-evaluate your birth control . . .
it could happen again . . . soon
Worst Mother’s Day Card Ever
Mums for Moms
The Hallmark Holiday of Mother’s Day is fast approaching. The advertisements for flowers and candy, and brunches and jewelry, are popping up more quickly than the weeds in my yard. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against honoring motherhood, sisterhood, and female nurturing. It’s all good. But I have long maintained that it works best for the mothers of adult children (preferably child-free) who are in the position to do things for their mom that their mom might actually want and in this way show appreciation for everything their mother has done over the years — the kind of appreciation you usually only understand after you’ve grown up. Before my kids came, and back when I had disposable income (sigh), I used to take my Mom to a fancy brunch in the city. It was nice.
At the other end of the spectrum of motherhood, mothers of babies and small kids usually love the home- and school-made cards and trinkets and hand prints of the little ones. I know I did. These new moms usually also hope their husband or significant other will give them “a day off” of mothering. A little ironic. Moms of intact families often want to hear this from their men:
“I’ll take the kids, I got this. You do nothing, I mean NOTHING — no cleaning, no meals, no laundry. We will bring you food.“
That’s a beautiful thing, if someone can do that for a mom. Of course, those newer mothers, if they are lucky enough to still have their mother alive and close by, have to go to the mother thing for her, so it is not a day to stay in bed all day watching trash TV and surfing the net.
Single mothers of course, have a whole different thing going on. They might have to haggle to even see their own children on Mother’s Day, depending on the calendar, the court order and the relationship with the Ex. And, unless the kids are grown, any celebration must be engineered, paid for, and cleaned up after — by her. A single mom might want a day off, too, but having the kids celebrate Mother’s Day elsewhere . . . well, that’s not quite right, either. And like the married mom, if the single mom has a mother, she has to do for her, too. Conclusion? Different situations call for different celebrations.
But let me take you back to a time when I had a husband and either one or three babies. Can’t remember. I think just one, but it wasn’t my first Mother’s Day. My then husband (kinda like the sound of that . . . but I digress) went out and got me a card. Kids weren’t old enough to do it on their own. It was nice of him. He didn’t always know how to do things like this. He was brought up without a father so he had no role model in the home for how a husband should treat the mother of his children. I don’t give him a pass because of this, it’s just a fact. It’s a fact easily remedied by reading, looking at TV, or copying what he sees good husbands do. It’s not that hard.
Another fact? Attention to detail was never his strong suit.
Like I said, different situations, different celebrations . . . even different cards.
Clearly my husband shopped in the wrong section of the Hallmark Cards display.
He got me a card that said,
“Happy Mother’s Day!
Our family is so much better . . . now that you’re in it.”
Yep, that’s right folks, he got his wife, the mother of his children, a card for a Stepmother.
Alrighty then. I mean, damn, I think I was still nursing somebody at the time . . . and I got a Stepmother’s Mother’s Day Card. And no, he didn’t accidentally mix up the card he bought for his own stepmother. He had no stepmother.
He bought that card for me.
I read it. I read it again. I read it TO him. He gave me one of those embarrassed laughs and apologized, but not profusely. I kept that card for a time, but of course, did not display it. I just couldn’t believe it. I mean, damn. I was a new mom, and it kinda hurt. I do give him credit for getting me a card. I know there are some guys who don’t do that for their wives. I probably would have been mad if he’d done nothing. But there are plenty of men who do the right thing — with precision. So many things would have been better. Flowers, a single flower, even those nasty flowers that are sold on the highway — would have been better. No words, no careless mistakes.
He took the time to get me a card.
Didn’t take the time to read it, though.
It was long ago . . . but it still smarts a little bit.
Just Me With . . . The Worst Mother’s Day Card . . . Ever.
Postscript: I thought this was the most insensitive thing he could have done on Mother’s Day. I was wrong. See “How I Found Out That My Ex-Husband Was Getting Married”
I Don’t Go To Weddings, But I’ll Watch the Royals
Weddings. Ahh weddings. It’s that time of year. Starting off with a bang this year with the Royals William and Kate, but for regular folk some people will be getting invitations to sibling’s, cousin’s, aunt’s and uncle’s, best friend’s and acquaintance’s. Me? I haven’t attended a wedding since my marriage ended. And actually, I’m kind of in between life stages for weddings, anyway. My friends are either already married or simply not going to do that (or if they do, it’ll be somewhere in Vegas). For the most part, second marriages are not in full swing yet. The younger members of my family aren’t old enough or ready. Despite my marrying young, the rest of my family and close friends don’t generally do that. We’re slow that way. So, I’m probably off the hook this year.
Still, I’ve been invited to a few weddings over the years, but I politely decline.
At first I thought it would make me too sad to watch a marriage ceremony when mine didn’t take, but really I’m afraid I’d be one of those drunken hecklers you usually find at comedy clubs.
Officiator: “Do you promise to Love, Honor, and Cherish . . . .?”
Me: Yeah, they say that NOW . . . Everybody SAYS that . . .
Officiator: “Forsaking all others . . .”
Me: HA!!!! Until a juicy young piece of a** asks for a ride home after work . . . Forsaking all others . . . for a while . . .
Yeah, perhaps I am right to politely decline live attendance at weddings.
Still, I struggled with my last decline. A very good friend of mine, who had been my bridesmaid and I, hers, at her first wedding, was remarrying. She was and is deliriously happy. Her first husband turned out to be a complete schmuck. I’d known him from college too, actually longer than I’d known her. I did not expect his bad behavior. Neither did she. He cheated on her. Got some other woman pregnant — twice. First, abortion. Second, well she was six months pregnant when he finally had to come clean. He first complained of depression and suicidal thoughts (to soften her up, I think), then hit her with, oh and by the by, I have a girlfriend and she’s pregnant and having the baby (unlike the first pregnancy) — WHAAAAT?!!!!!!!!. Despite this, my friend tried to save her marriage, something I couldn’t fully comprehend at the time, but I understand now. She got him into counseling, on antidepressants, and did not kick him out. They tried to work out a plan for this child, who was coming, no matter what.
It didn’t work; he left their marital bed to go to this woman’s hospital bedside and watch their child’s birth, giving the baby the same name he and my friend had discussed if they ever had a child. Cruel. You see, the schmuck didn’t want children at all when he and my friend first married but then softened and consented to one, just one. Sadly, my friend could not get pregnant. So his impregnating another woman and giving that baby the name they had decided on . . . well that’s whip worthy.
I remember talking to her over the phone — while her husband was at the hospital shortly after the baby was born. It was unspeakable. That is a pain no one should have to endure. There’s a special place . . . for that man. After the baby was born, he never really came back home, except to change clothes. A couple of days later as she worked from home and thought he was at work — and he thought she was out — he came by and left a note, saying his place was with the baby and the baby’s mother. After 12 years of marriage, she got a break up note. (She found out later it was all preplanned as he had already applied for and was given “parental” leave from work. Ugh.)
From “Sex and The City” Carrie’s boyfriend broke up with her via a Post-It note.
My friend talked her way through this with her girlfriends; all we could do was listen. (A favor she returned to me later).
But, my friend met another man, by chance, at an event. He, too, was suffering from the effects of a cheating and also spiteful spouse. They clicked immediately. They fell in love. Some of us girlfriends (original bridesmaids) were worried that it was too soon, that it was a rebound situation, that this guy was also hurting too much – that it was like meeting someone in rehab — you have a lot in common, but is it really a basis for a positive new start? My friend explained, “You know, bad things happen all the time, suddenly — car wrecks, cancer, hurricanes, and we accept that and adjust. Why can’t we accept it when good things happen, suddenly, seemingly ill-timed?” Okay, she’s a genius. And she is a brilliant, talented, quite no-nonsense, kind of woman with a dry sense of humor. She’s not even religious, so it’s not a “God sent him to me” type of thing. They just found each other. After dating for a couple of years, last year, they married at the beach. You see, except for the horrible ordeal with the schmuck, good things tend to happen to this woman. She even sold her old house in this horrible market in a matter of weeks.
She’d found her true love. She won’t have children, and his are almost grown, but they have each other and have been happy, really happy.
I did not attend her wedding. It was a semi-destination wedding small affair and although she would have been thrilled if I’d come, she kind of expected I wouldn’t make it, and was really cool about it. I was in a bad way and couldn’t handle long drives, plus I wasn’t sure what I would do with my kids. Plus, it’s not really good for me to be around for these things. I might have cried — too much. I was in her first wedding, and she in mine and neither one ended well — I dunno – – was I being superstitious? It certainly wasn’t jealousy. I have never been happier for anyone getting married. She deserves happiness, just because she’s cool, let alone all the crap that schmuck put her through. I definitely would not have heckled her.
Sometimes, it’s okay to stay away. I have her back, though, and she mine. We both know that. I may attend William and Kate’s special day, though. And I’ll call/text/email my friend to see what she thinks of it . She loves royal weddings. After all it is thousands of miles away and on television and on delay (I’m not getting up at 4:00am) and I don’t actually know William and Kate. So I think it’s pretty safe for me to be in TV attendance.
I haven’t lost all capacity for romance, damn it.
Just Me With . . . a remote control and well wishes to all the brides . . . from afar.
I did go to a wedding, eventually. See “I Went To A Wedding Alone”
Toilet or Kitchen Sink — Who Can Tell?
As I noted in Piss, Puke and Porn after I bought my new old house I allowed the prior owners to rent it back from me for a number of months while my marital home was on the market. During this time I worked mostly on the outside of the house.
It needed it.
I saw this home and had to have it. I’m crazy that way.
When it got closer to move-in time I did do some work/planning inside the house.
It needed it.
The Kitchen
One fine day I was in the kitchen measuring, trying to come up with a plan to remodel the kitchen which, again, was nasty –I mean it had stained, smelly carpet — IN THE KITCHEN! Once white ceiling tiles which were brown from cigarette smoke and water damage, and the kitchen boasted a lovely exposed toilet pipe, etc. But I was financially challenged and wasn’t sure how I was going to be able to afford all the home renovations needed at one time. I briefly considered trying to live with the kitchen “as is’ for a while. (Of course, after removing the carpet and massive cleaning and disinfecting.)
Makes you want to cook, right?
During the rental period, the matriarch of the family, bless her heart, had become ill. She was staying in a hospital bed in the front room (the hallway was too small to get a bed upstairs). Her common law daughter-in-law (the one living upstairs with Piss Man) was her primary caretaker. See What Happened In My House? Murder? The daughter-in-law seemed to want to befriend me. I can talk to anybody, really, so we were chatting it up. Mind you, this was before the discovery of The Piss Collection.
But then something happened.
Piss Man’s Girlfriend had gone to check on the Matriarch. I stayed in the kitchen, pondering — what to do with this mess? Then, Piss Man’s Girlfriend returned with a full bed pan and proceeded to empty it — into the kitchen sink — INTO THE KITCHEN SINK !!!!
EWWWWWWW!
She did this right in front of me!!!
My hopes of my family using the existing kitchen for a while and thus staggering the home renovations were dashed, or should I say splashed down the kitchen sink. A kitchen sink currently being used and surrounded by dishes and food.
Ew.
When the family moved out of my new old house, the entire kitchen — including the kitchen sink — was demolished by a friend and I — within days. We lived for four months with no kitchen at all. But I’d rather have no kitchen at all than —-
Just Me With . . . The Ever Popular “Toilet — Kitchen Sink Combination.”
Related: What Happened in My House, Murder?
Just Me With My First Blog Post!
Well, I hope this isn’t a mistake. The first post is supposed to be the grabber, the one to establish your niche in cyberworld. Am I a dating blogger? breakup blogger? mommyblogger? a singlemommy blogger? a DIY blogger? Truth be told I haven’t written what I want to be my first official blog yet. But my page looked so . . . unfinished ( I really hate that ) so this little ditty is my first official, if not well advised, blog. Sigh. Sometimes it seems I do so many things butt backward (notice the effort not to swear on my first post?). Ha!
Just Me With . . . 