This is an OLD blog entry of mine from early 2009 and my Myspace days. Remember Myspace? Remember searching all night long for just the right background and taking 2 hours stringing together a picture montage set to music ready to make the coldest heart cry. Remember that? Whatever happened to Myspace?
Facebook happened. That's what.
How did we all simultaneously convert to Facebook? Funny how things work that way. In an attempt to delete my old Myspace account I came across this blog entry about Kate Gosselin and decided it was worthy of a re-print, especially since I have been failing in the posting department. Maybe this will get me going again. And let me remind you again: this is from A LONG TIME AGO.
I love Jon & Kate Plus 8 and I'm not afraid to admit it. I've been watching the show since its inception and have, in a friend's words, stalked them ever since. I talked about them to my friends (mommies only, singletons wouldn't understand), made my husband watch with me and searched for all articles relating to their plight. I'm pretty sure I've seen every episode, which is why I can now firmly state:
I HATE KATE GOSSELIN!
I used to be Kate's cheerleader. I thought everything she did was remarkable. She was doing more times eight than most people can do for two. Since I had just recently become a mother myself I marveled when peering into her life. She was cooking organically for 10 on a nightly basis for dang sake! That alone was amazing to me. She had a knack for organization, which I needed to learn a thing or two about. And hey, I just love kids, OK? So I defended her when my friends tried to cut her down in conversation and even got a bit perturbed with them. How can they not see the awesomeness that is Kate Gosselin?
Sure, there were some obvious things about her personality that were out of whack, shall we say, but who could blame her- she HAS EIGHT KIDS!! And her harshness towards her husband initially seemed necessary, her obsession about play clothes vs. nice clothes appeared smart and her boiling points with the masses of people in her home seemed obvious. But there has been a change of tides with her and me.
I think I first started noticing her shamelessness in the ToysRUs episode and the Disneyland tip. I don't know which came first. They were both jaw-dropping for me. The toy store was shocking in that not only was she ordering her husband around like her own personal mule but she openly berated him for acting "like a child" and continued to scream at him with absolutely no courtesy for the shoppers around her, her children not to mention, her husband, Jon.
Disneyland is a whole other chapter on shamelessness. Granted Disneyland is a hard days work for any parent, that's a given. But at some point that day Kate herself decided to give all 8 kids ice cream for a treat to escape the heat and avoid "hunger meltdowns". What happened next was hard to watch. She created utter chaos and pandemonium when the ice cream started to melt too fast and was getting the kid's clothes dirty. All hell broke loose when Kate decided they were going to take back all the ice cream from the kids and hand feed it to them! Any parent should know full well you NEVER attempt to take ice cream from a 3 year old! EVER!
She then joins the chaos herself by having an unnecessary tantrum whilst surrounded by a slew of people there to assist HER! Three extra family friends, a team of Disneyland staffers, as well as the entire TLC crew and oh, let's not forget Jon, watch in horror as Kate (who is seemingly oblivious to anyone else including her 8 belligerently screaming children) freaks out about her own desire for sparkly clean outfits for their photo-ops! She created all the drama herself and then proceeded to, once again, berate her husband for "not helping". Phew.
While I obviously had a lot to say about those episodes, at that point I was still on Kate's side. I still really, really liked her even though we were polar opposites. We had a similar enough parenting style, in regards to discipline, that I was still into the show. Things started to gown further downhill when I saw the cupcake decorating episode.
For the kid's 4th birthdays they decided to take them to a bakery and decorate cupcakes. They drive and hour and a half to the baker. After church. In church clothes. (are you thinking what I'm thinking?) While she came prepared with aprons for the kids, there was no apron to mask the displeasure on Kate's face. Clearly she didn't want to be there. For the entire time she sat with a scowl on her face and her arms crossed across her chest and policed everything the kids touched and did. Don't touch this, don't eat that, she was non-stop! The ladies at the bakery were trying so hard to impress her with fun ideas for the kids, but she kept shooting them down..."as long as they don't get dirty", she shamelessly and firmly scowled. You can almost see the baker roll her eyes.
Wait, it gets worse.
After the kids have created their cakes it is decided by Kate that they are not allowed to eat any of them. SHE wants to present the cakes to them after dinner (and of course, protect the all important outfits). But the absolute final moment of chaos and craziness came after dinner. Four of the six kids, too excited in anticipation for their cupcakes, didn't finish dinner and were denied their birthday cupcake/dessert treat and sent to bed!!!!! There I sat on my couch, in my comfy, cozy jammies, under my blankie and with my mouth-wide open- actually feeling sorry for the little blue and green and red dots on my television that make-up those sad little sextuplet faces that were denied their little cupcakes. I wanted to strangle her!
That's when I decided it was over between Kate and I. As hard as it is gonna be, I have to break-up with her. It was fun while it lasted, but I'm moving on.
Post-Script Update: I have still not warmed back up to Kate Gosselin. Her stint on Dancing with the Stars certainly didn't do anything to help break the stereotype of her being a cold, stiff bitch. And please, don't even get me started on the hair, the boobs, the tan, the clothes, the shoes. STOP! Who are you? I don't even recognize you anymore!
June 24, 2010
Mom, When Can We Go to a Farm?
As some of you may or may not know, we haven't had a lot of luck with our pets in the last couple of years. As a matter of fact- we've had no luck at all. We lost 2 of our dogs in the last two years. Our Jack Russells, who we loved so much.
I'll spare you the tear inducing love story that I could pen about my 'babies before babies' and just tell you that in short- Maximus, the baby, got out of the yard and discovered Victory Blvd too early in life...and Bare, 'the middle child', just recently had to be put down due to kidney failure.
Coach Hubs and I decided that at 3 years and 2 years old we just weren't ready to teach the kids about REAL life, life and death etc. To us it may as well have been the birds and the bees talk already. No, thank you. Instead we opted to use the perfectly good, old-school, not nearly used enough explanation of "The Farm".
Now this method doesn't really help in their reaction at all. Let's get something clear here, this method is for the purely selfish, unprepared, lazy parent. We selfishly didn't want to have to explain death, we were certainly unprepared about the necessity to explain death and entirely too lazy to research the correct thing to say to 2 toddlers who just lost their puppy. This is why we went with the Farm Response.
The explanation is simple, the benefits (to the parents) is exponential. Maxi dog felt sick and needed to go to the farm for medicine and fun. No, he's not coming back. Bare-Bare missed his brother SO much he wanted to go to the farm to be with him. No, he's not coming back.
The tears are real. The true feeling of loss is real. But the excuse (in this naive mommy's brain) eases the pain. At least they're on a farm- together.
Cut to today, 2 years after Maxi left for the farm and 2 months after Bare left for the farm...
Big L asks: "Mom, when can we go to a farm?"
Me (totally oblivious): "Great idea, L, a farm would be fun to go and see."
Big L: "Ya, that way we can see Maximus and Bare again."
Mom is speechless. The wind has left me. I just nodded my head and said, "Ya...that's a great idea."
That's our Bare
(and my body-painted children)
Maximus w/ a 6 month old Luke (awww)
I'll spare you the tear inducing love story that I could pen about my 'babies before babies' and just tell you that in short- Maximus, the baby, got out of the yard and discovered Victory Blvd too early in life...and Bare, 'the middle child', just recently had to be put down due to kidney failure.
Coach Hubs and I decided that at 3 years and 2 years old we just weren't ready to teach the kids about REAL life, life and death etc. To us it may as well have been the birds and the bees talk already. No, thank you. Instead we opted to use the perfectly good, old-school, not nearly used enough explanation of "The Farm".
Now this method doesn't really help in their reaction at all. Let's get something clear here, this method is for the purely selfish, unprepared, lazy parent. We selfishly didn't want to have to explain death, we were certainly unprepared about the necessity to explain death and entirely too lazy to research the correct thing to say to 2 toddlers who just lost their puppy. This is why we went with the Farm Response.
The explanation is simple, the benefits (to the parents) is exponential. Maxi dog felt sick and needed to go to the farm for medicine and fun. No, he's not coming back. Bare-Bare missed his brother SO much he wanted to go to the farm to be with him. No, he's not coming back.
The tears are real. The true feeling of loss is real. But the excuse (in this naive mommy's brain) eases the pain. At least they're on a farm- together.
Cut to today, 2 years after Maxi left for the farm and 2 months after Bare left for the farm...
Big L asks: "Mom, when can we go to a farm?"
Me (totally oblivious): "Great idea, L, a farm would be fun to go and see."
Big L: "Ya, that way we can see Maximus and Bare again."
Mom is speechless. The wind has left me. I just nodded my head and said, "Ya...that's a great idea."
June 22, 2010
Swim Classes and Lollipops
It's summertime and around here that means it's time for the grandparent's yearly gift of private swim lessons at Lucile Cowel Swim School. We've been doing them every summer since Big L turned 1, so this is year three for him and year one for Little L.
I guess you can consider Big L the professional. He knows the drill- he knows just where to go, where to sit and dives right in when it's his turn. He also knows that when you have a good lesson you get a lollipop after. And Big L always gets his lollipop.
Little L is a whole different story. This Mommy knew full well it would be different, because, let's face it...Little L is just not quite the 'sport' that Big L is. And I use the term 'sport' in the most unsporty way. Big L has just always been game for anything and anyone. but the little one is picky. and she'll let u know it.
Poor teacher Rachel. She never stood a chance.
Years past I secretly side-eyed the mother of the child who was screaming in the pool. I mean, a 15 minute lesson and the kid is screaming the whole time, day after day, lesson after lesson. And now here we were- Little L's first lesson and it suddenly hit me...I'm going to be THAT MOTHER!
Sure enough as soon as her big toe hit the water Little L started crying.
Oh, here we go. She started crying and she didn't stop. Now she's clutching the teacher (who is all of 19 years old) who is just trying to hold Little L at a safe enough distance to keep her now runny nose from making any sort of contact with her taut, toned and tanned skin.
I'm starting to sweat, I'm panning around me looking for the ominous stares, but it's 9AM, no one else is there- I'm in the clear.
To my surprise Little L pulls through that first day, she bucked up for the last part of her lesson and made it thru another 2 lessons before the inevitable happened.
Little L didn't get her lollipop.
On the day of lesson 3 Little L decided she wasn't going to swim that day. And while she quickly gave up her initial protest upon entering the pool that was about all she did. The rest of the her 15 min. were spent completely shut down towards her teacher, her mother, her brother and her grandmother. There would be no kicks, no smiles, no fun. All of our encouraging cheers fell on deaf ears. It was like we weren't even there. Little L was NOT going to swim. She curled up her little body like an invalid and allowed her teacher to pull her thru the water until it was time to go.
"But wait, mom, what about my lollipop?"
If you're a firm believer in choices and consequences, well, you can just picture what happened next. Little L didn't get her lolli and she was none too pleased about it. She was crying and screaming and having her little fit. I didn't even have a chance to feel guilty about the damn lolli because I was too busy having to reprimand Naughty Grandmother(NG) who was trying to sneak a lollipop for her behind my back! Thankfully NG was the one who taught me that one stern look can instill doubt and fear and so she(NG) quietly sulked back to the lollipop container and put it back.
It's my turn now, these are MY rules! ha.
This all bring us to today. Swim lesson number 4. Guess who dove right in, did her kicks for teacher Rachel and even smiled while having her lesson? That's right, Little L. And she was SO happy and proud of herself when she got to pick out her lollipop today. She chose green. Just in case u were wondering.
I guess you can consider Big L the professional. He knows the drill- he knows just where to go, where to sit and dives right in when it's his turn. He also knows that when you have a good lesson you get a lollipop after. And Big L always gets his lollipop.
Little L is a whole different story. This Mommy knew full well it would be different, because, let's face it...Little L is just not quite the 'sport' that Big L is. And I use the term 'sport' in the most unsporty way. Big L has just always been game for anything and anyone. but the little one is picky. and she'll let u know it.
Poor teacher Rachel. She never stood a chance.
Years past I secretly side-eyed the mother of the child who was screaming in the pool. I mean, a 15 minute lesson and the kid is screaming the whole time, day after day, lesson after lesson. And now here we were- Little L's first lesson and it suddenly hit me...I'm going to be THAT MOTHER!
Sure enough as soon as her big toe hit the water Little L started crying.
Oh, here we go. She started crying and she didn't stop. Now she's clutching the teacher (who is all of 19 years old) who is just trying to hold Little L at a safe enough distance to keep her now runny nose from making any sort of contact with her taut, toned and tanned skin.
I'm starting to sweat, I'm panning around me looking for the ominous stares, but it's 9AM, no one else is there- I'm in the clear.
To my surprise Little L pulls through that first day, she bucked up for the last part of her lesson and made it thru another 2 lessons before the inevitable happened.
Little L didn't get her lollipop.
On the day of lesson 3 Little L decided she wasn't going to swim that day. And while she quickly gave up her initial protest upon entering the pool that was about all she did. The rest of the her 15 min. were spent completely shut down towards her teacher, her mother, her brother and her grandmother. There would be no kicks, no smiles, no fun. All of our encouraging cheers fell on deaf ears. It was like we weren't even there. Little L was NOT going to swim. She curled up her little body like an invalid and allowed her teacher to pull her thru the water until it was time to go.
"But wait, mom, what about my lollipop?"
If you're a firm believer in choices and consequences, well, you can just picture what happened next. Little L didn't get her lolli and she was none too pleased about it. She was crying and screaming and having her little fit. I didn't even have a chance to feel guilty about the damn lolli because I was too busy having to reprimand Naughty Grandmother(NG) who was trying to sneak a lollipop for her behind my back! Thankfully NG was the one who taught me that one stern look can instill doubt and fear and so she(NG) quietly sulked back to the lollipop container and put it back.
It's my turn now, these are MY rules! ha.
This all bring us to today. Swim lesson number 4. Guess who dove right in, did her kicks for teacher Rachel and even smiled while having her lesson? That's right, Little L. And she was SO happy and proud of herself when she got to pick out her lollipop today. She chose green. Just in case u were wondering.
June 21, 2010
Drowning in Laundry
OK, I know this is a cliche, everyday, stay-at-home mother annoyance but I've got it REAL bad!!!
I literally have laundry piling up in every corner! Clean laundry. Dirty laundry. Folded laundry. Donation laundry. Preschool mommy laundry. Laundry I don't have room in the drawers for....and it goes on and on.
It is just about all this freaked out mom and her 986 sq. ft house can take!
My oldest (just turned 4) is potty trained but we're in the thick of his nighttime training right now. Balls to wall no more pull-ups- we've been doing underwear to bed for probably 2weeks now. we've had 2 dry mornings. Every morning it's the same thing. Me: What happened Big L? Big L: I was too tired to get up. ARRRRR!
Little L is in the midst of basic potty training. Underwear on during the day, accidents galore. She's catching on pretty quick but we have poop issues so there's lots of extra underwear and changes of clothes.
This bring us to Coach Hubs. Now that football season is in full effect my dear husband literally multiplies my laundry load by 4. There is his work clothes, his coaching clothes, his 'I just got home clothes' and his nighttime routine of shower and change clothes. And when the winter months start, it gets even worse because now we'll have to add an underlayer to all of his outfits as well as a sweatshirt/jacket to every husband outfit mentioned above! ARRRRRRRR!
Just thought It would be fun to make my first post back in a long time a nice bitchy, whiny, naggy one. you're welcome.
I literally have laundry piling up in every corner! Clean laundry. Dirty laundry. Folded laundry. Donation laundry. Preschool mommy laundry. Laundry I don't have room in the drawers for....and it goes on and on.
It is just about all this freaked out mom and her 986 sq. ft house can take!
My oldest (just turned 4) is potty trained but we're in the thick of his nighttime training right now. Balls to wall no more pull-ups- we've been doing underwear to bed for probably 2weeks now. we've had 2 dry mornings. Every morning it's the same thing. Me: What happened Big L? Big L: I was too tired to get up. ARRRRR!
Little L is in the midst of basic potty training. Underwear on during the day, accidents galore. She's catching on pretty quick but we have poop issues so there's lots of extra underwear and changes of clothes.
This bring us to Coach Hubs. Now that football season is in full effect my dear husband literally multiplies my laundry load by 4. There is his work clothes, his coaching clothes, his 'I just got home clothes' and his nighttime routine of shower and change clothes. And when the winter months start, it gets even worse because now we'll have to add an underlayer to all of his outfits as well as a sweatshirt/jacket to every husband outfit mentioned above! ARRRRRRRR!
Just thought It would be fun to make my first post back in a long time a nice bitchy, whiny, naggy one. you're welcome.
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