Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Face Book!

The Lint Trap is officially on Face Book with its own page. Everyone please swing by and "like" me. 

Official page https://www.facebook.com/TheLintTrap  

Come on and show me some love! 

If you have a page leave me a message and I will swing by and "like" you! (this is feeling so very middle schoolish all the sudden.)


Siblings are the Bomb

I was telling a friend about a funny conversation I had with mybrother, and she made the comment, "I want a brother like yours. It sounds like y'all have a great relationship." Later on I processed that comment (the brain is S-L-O-W these days) and realized how right she was. I have one brother, Jay, and we talk regularly and laugh A LOT. We get each other and genuinely like each other's company. Growing up, we fought constantly and vehemently. Then when I was in 8th grade and he was in 11th grade, we quit being a-holes and started being friends. We have been there for each through every joyful and terrible thing, and I couldn't ask for a better brother. 

The way I see it, no one understands exactly where you came from except siblings. Only your siblings get exactly what makes you, you. They saw you grow, change, and come into your own as a person, all while sharing a roof, parents, clothes, and in our case, a wall. No one else could ever understand why it is so funny to say, "wood chuck to grey squirrel." No one else remembers the time he caught my sweater caught on fire. No one else was there to convince my parents to let me watch "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" at my slumber party even though they thought it may be a tad too racy. No one else covered for me when I snuck into my parent's liquor cabinet. Yep, all Jay.

Without my brother there to play with, fight with, and tell on, my childhood would have been a very lonely existence. It is so not fun to swing on a tire swing in the back yard alone. You can't have food fights alone. Subsequently, it is more fun to wash windows with someone else. It is boring to play Monopoly alone (full disclosure it is actually quite boring with two people). We have the same memories of family vacations, holidays, and normal everyday boring life. I can't imagine if I didn't have a Jay in my life to share all those memories with. Don't get my wrong, it was not all laughs and good times. We are family, and families don't always get along. It can't always be great, because that would be impossible. We still have disagreements (yes you did through the ice pack overhand at my face) and we know exactly how to push each other's buttons (Mr. Sensitive). But the good outweighs the bad, by about a zillion.

The hubs has a sister, and when he got up to toast her at her wedding, he may have become a bit, umm, verclemped. It was sweet and touching because he is not forthcoming with emotions, especially not in front of a ballroom filled with over a hundred people. As he was a wee bit choked up, I finished his speech for him and we made our way back to our table. As soon as we sat down, his mom leaned over and whispered, "all I ever wanted was for you two to love each other. Now I know you really do." While he could not appreciate her comment at the moment because it put a kink in his efforts to compose himself, I logged that sweet moment away. Truer words were never spoken by a mother and I now understand and feel the exact same way. I want my kids to have a bond that is special and strong, no matter how far apart they are in miles or life. However, I wish for Alice and my future children to not only love each other, but to like each other. I know a lot of people who don't really like their siblings even though they love them. They don't "get" each other, they don't see eye to eye, they have no common ground as adults. And that makes me sad (tear). Fortunately both of hubs and I not only love our siblings, we like them a lot. Hopefully that will provide our kids with good examples.

To have a sibling to share life's important milestones is invaluable. Jay and I have been there for each other through failed relationships, deaths of family and friends, each other's weddings, and the birth of my child. When I think back over my life, there he is, always being the best big brother I could ever ask for. I was distraught when he left to go to college so be bought me a kitten. He surprised me by coming home when I was on Homecoming Court my senior year. He came to my 21st birthday. He drove me home from college the last day of my senior year. He is the only person who came to see me in Australia. He cried at my wedding. He drove in the wee hours of the morning to see my newborn daughter the day she came into the world. Becuase he couldn't stand it and was so excited. Now that, my linty peeps, is a good brother.

I hope to provide Lady Baby with at least one sibling so she will have someone to conspire with, play with, and resent me with. I want her to have a partner in crime like I did. I don't care if she gets a sister or a brother, I just want her to have someone to have her back and be on her side. A sibling who knows where she came from and help her on the path to where she is going. It's okay if they beat the crap out of each for the first decade, they have their whole life to be friends. Take it from me. Jay and I are living proof. 

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Toddlers are Mental

I have noticed a little something about my toddler. Or maybe a big something. She appears to have mutiple personality disorder. For reals y'all. Split personality. Jekyll and Hyde. Sybil. Vicki on One Life to Live. That is what I dealing with on a daily basis over here.

Let me provide a few scenarios to state my case:

Its time for breakfast. I scoop Miss Priss up and put her in her booster. Where she eats every meal. Every day. Nothing new. Except she decides that today she doesn't want to sit and eat. So she revs up some impressive hysterical screaming, complete with "mommy mommy mommy" and sobbing. Alarmed that my precious flower is in distress, I remove her from the seat and hug her. She immediately giggles in the way only an evil genius can. Realizing I have been had by a child (again), I pop her back in the seat and we start the whole thing over again. Screaming, taking her out, giggling. I. Am. Not. Happy. Now I am faced with the quandary--do I let her starve or let her eat while walking around. I am not proud to say that I have waffled and given in on several occasions, mostly because the screaming wears me down.

Anthony gets home from work and picks Alice up. She begins her normal riff of screeching for mommy. I take her, and she turns the tables on us and switches over to screeching for Daddy. Switch parents, screech for the opposite. Confusing? Very. Frustrating? Insanely. This one mystifies me, because we are both standing together, handing her back and forth. Then, I am over it, and I walk away leaving hubs to hold a thrashing wild animal. *smile*

These are only two of the millions of situations in which Lady Baby turns it off and on. It really is award worthy. My peeps, don't be surprised if one day in about 20 years you are watching an awards show and see an older version of me (still hot) sitting in the audience. I will be there as my child's plus one (because she of course brings her mother to the most momentous moment of her life), cheering and weeping, watching my first born receive her Oscar/Emmy/Tony for best actress. In my opinion, she is well on her way to a lifetime achievement award. Here is hoping they count your toddler shenanigans in your body of work as a performer. She will be a shoe-in at age 12.

I am open to advice, opinions, and/or ideas on how to handle Her Highness. I am not scared of the smack down. In fact I bring it on a daily, if not hourly, basis. But there are certain things that are hard to punish. How do I explain to a 20 month old that she is time out for being too smart for own good? You can't. If you could, I would have figured it out be now, surely. But then again, I am not the smart one, Lady Baby is. I suppose I may as well prepare for a lifetime of being outwitted. Let's just hope she keeps the personalites to two, because that is all mama can handle.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

A Letter from the Dog

Dear Mom and Dad,

You guys are great. You love me, you feed me (not as much as I would like, but it will do), and you let me sleep in your bed at night. I really appreciate all of this. The problem is that thing you came home with about 20 months ago. I think you call her Alice (what kind of name is that? Stupid). She is the devil and I would like her to leave now. 

Remember back when it was just the three of us? Yeah, I know we have the cats too, but they don't really contribute much. Except for the yummy poops and occasional face licking, I could really do without them.  Anyhoo, I call that time "the good ole days." And for very good reason. I laid around all day either outside in the sunshine or inside on the couch. In peace. We spent the weekends together. We went to the dog park. We hung out in the yard, you doing the whatever people do in the yard, and me chewing sticks and rolling in leaf piles. All of our your meals were eaten in the den in front of the TV. And you always shared. Always. It was the three musketeers. Now, there are four of us. No one ever says the four musketeers for a reason. Because the fourth was annoying and they kicked her out of their club. 

These days, there are some differences in my life. Differences that I did not ask for, nor do I appreciate. Ever since you brought the maniac home, things have been amok. Yes, she has an intoxicating scent of poop and hot dogs with a little soured milk thrown in, but I find her to be super annoying. These days it's all Alice-this, Alice-that. What does Alice want for dinner? How about what I want for dinner. Not this food you bought me for old lady dogs. I don't appreciate the assumption that I need tiny pieces of food. Last time I checked I have all my teeth. Where should we take Alice today, the park or the playground?  No one is talking about whether I would like to go to the park or not. Jerks. Sure I have a torn ACL, but I still enjoy a jaunt around the block. I am looking a little thick around the middle, thanks to you two and your inability to pry yourself away from your precious child and her many needs.

Don't even get me started on the teasing with the food. Yes, I will admit I enjoy the food the leech kid throws down during her meals. Some might call her behavior a bit ungrateful. If you gave me delectable treats like cheese, chicken nuggets, and pop tarts, I would NEVER discard them uneaten. In fact, I would eat them so fast, it would be as if they never existed. I would literally inhale them without chewing. You wouldn't even have to wash the plates. No, my real issue lies in the urchin's behavior when she has a snack. We all know I have the refined manners of one of the Queen's corgis. I don't snap, I don't snatch, I don't lunge. I wait patiently for my bite. I may, upon occasion, delicately take my bite when one has forgotten to share. I have tried to employ these manners with your offspring, yet she does not have my polished ways. She shakes her food in my face. When I try to have a bite, assuming this is why she isputting it in my face, she runs the other way. And laughs. Minx. I have no tolerance for this tomfoolery. From now on, I will take the food, consequences of child's volume be damned. I will still be gentle, honestly, that is just good breeding. But no more waiting. I am done kowtowing to a rug rat who eats bananas. (Ugh. As if that is food.) I will take what is owed me. That also includes that tricky plastic bowl with a lid that has a hole in the top that you fill with goldfish and cheerios. Yep, I can get the lid off that thing in a hot second. Good manners and smart. Not so much with your little cherub.

Moving forward, please take note of the following. I am requesting more walks. I am pleading for the screamer to sleep more, thus enabling the three of us to spend more quality time lying around watching TV. I will even let you pick the shows. I am putting you on notice to quit buying the geriatric food or else I will start barfing it up. AGAIN. Lastly, I implore you to muzzle the young one. She is too loud and I do not like it. At all. I prefer to sleep and groom in peace. I can't think with the constant shrieking and squealing. It is maddening and it interrupts my naps and cuts in on my butt licking. And as you well know my pets, that is when I do my best thinking.

Let me know if you want to think tank on some ideas of relocating Alice. I am sure I have some friends that know of a nice farm that may be interested in taking her.

Smell you later (literally), 

I have enclosed this picture of the good ole days, just
in case you have forgotten. You, me, a pile of leaves.
Now that is fun.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Feast or Famine of the Pants

This past week I had two serious mommy fails. I know what you are thinking...only two? Ha, I laugh at that. I have had many more than two today this week. But these are two biggies that point to the fact that I seem to be seriously losing my mind.

Sunday night I changed Lady Baby's diaper right before we left to go over to a friend's, then on to eat at our neighborhood joint. (If you have ever been to see me, you know the one. The only place we ever eat.) When we got to our friend's house, I realized I forgot to put Her Highness's bloomers back on over her diaper. Oopsie. No biggie, right? (I now scoff at my own stupidity.) We were not going anywhere fancy, just up the street. We sat outside to enjoy the lovely weather and live music and child proceeded to run around like a maniac. Side note: I don't let her run around like a rabid animal at most restaurants, but this one has a yard and patio where she can be free. She is all over the place and of course refuses to sit in her booster and eat, so hubs and I are taking turns between eating and watching her. As I am having a nice conversation and enjoying my lovely salad I hear, "Uh, her diaper just fell off." I turn around to see my delicate little flower with her lady bits out as she goes race walking (the fastest way she can move as of yet) away from us. I leaped to action and grabbed her up while he grabbed the diaper. Let me be the first to tell you...getting an already used diaper back on a squirmy child while sitting at a table in a restaurant is no easy, nor G rated, task. It involved a lot of thrashing and crotch exposure to several innocent patrons just trying to enjoy their pimento cheese burgers and oyster salads. Thank god she is too young to remember her first (AND ONLY) public pants off experience. 

Tuesday morning was stressful. Anthony's car broke down at 5am on the way to the gym, he had a doctors appointment he had to get to at 8:30, Toodles had preschool and picked that morning to sleep until 8, and my check engine light came on in the middle of all the hub-bub. We got out of the house in record time, I shuttled everyone where they needed to go, and all was great. Until we got home from preschool and did a diaper change. There, under her knit  pants, were her pajama shorts. In my psychotic running around I had dressed her quickly, and apparetnly with my eyes closed. The worst part is, I had to have taken her pants off, changed her diaper, AND PUT THEM BACK ON. The poor child had spent the day in two pairs of bottoms. She was so hot and sweaty, she probably lost a few lbs. I knew the teachers had seen the strangeness that was my child's outfit because she had on one of her diapers with her name on the crotch.  My first reaction was to call her teachers and tell them I really wasn't crazy (lie) it was just a bad morning. I refrained for fear that calling them at home would only make me look more loony. Go me.

I am sure I am not the only mother that either of things has ever happened to. It was just my first time, and they happened two days apart, making me feel even more I've-officially-lost-it-and-should be medicated than normal. I am not super organized on my best day, so really neither of these situations should have come as a surprise. My favorite phrase is "it was an accident." Incidentally, said phrase has been banned from my house by a certain someone I pledged my undying love to. I say it all of the time because it is very true. I never mean to do these weird things, I do them by accident. Eh, see, I can't help  it. Just rolls right off the tongue. Fortunately I see the humor in my own shortcomings. We were still laughing about the diaper when we walked into the house an hour later. When I discovered the pj bottoms, I was dying in Miss Priss's room. You should have see the look she was giving me from the changing table. It was all, "God Mom, you are so weird." Ever since these incidents (so for the last week) I have been extra cautious about pants/bloomers/pj's/shorts. Not too many and not too few. One per bottom per day is a plenty.

sorry baby, Mommy made you look a fool

New Look for the Trap

As you can tell, I revamped my look (again). The last header bugged me from the get-go. Something about the color as well as the lint looking a little roadkill-esque. Then my husband informed that the lint picture looked like something out of the opening credit of True Blood, which confirmed my suspicions. After staring at it in growing disgust for months, I finally got around to doing a little revamp yesterday. What started as a quick project turned into about 5 hours of messing with the design. But it is done (until I see something else that bugs) and I am very happy with it. Hope you like it!

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

A Versatile Blog on Fire

In the past month two fellow bloggers have been sweet enough to give me awards. When I started this blog I was a little nervous. I could not imagine who would want to read my stream of consciousness ramblings. Thank god for Lady Baby, who provides me with constant fodder for The Lint Trap. Without her, I would be blogging about managing an optometrist office. (I am sure many of you are thinking about how hilarious that would be...not). 

My faithful Linty Peeps, please check these blogs out! 

Not so Silent Mommy gave out awards and the recipients had a choice between the two awards she was paying forward. We were supposed to choose for ourselves, so choose I will. While it sounds nice to be "versatile" how awesome is it when someone says, "damn, she is on fire." So really, there is no choice. Blog on Fire it is!!! (I have no idea if either of these are better, or more esteemed, etc. It is sort of like finding Nell in the woods and telling her to choose between a Oscar and an Emmy. She is just happy about the shiny statue. Same, same. I am just happy about the shiny statue.)

But wait, good news...I don't have to choose! The lovely Moms Mission Upstream gave me The Versatile Blogger award. I get to keep them both! Hooray! Henceforth, I would always like my blog referred to as A Versatile Blog on Fire.

The rules are as follows: write seven things about yourself and then pass the award on to 10 other bloggers. Let us commence...

1. I love to sleep. When I wake up in the morning I am already excited about going to bed that night. I am all, "goodbye pillow, I will see you very very soon."

2. I have been with my husband for 13 years. Yes, we started dating when when were infants.

3. I hate animal movies. They always make me cry, and I don't need that. I know what you are thinking. Not even Seabiscuit? Nope, under no circumstances will I ever watch a horse movie. "But it was critically acclaimed," you say to yourself. I don't give a #$% if Seabiscuit himself accepted an Oscar in a horse tuxedo. Not seeing it. And no, I will have not, nor will I ever, watch Marley and Me (spoiler alert: the dog dies. Shocker.). Related: If you tell me a sad story about an animal, you are dead to me. Make a note.

4. I love General Hospital. It is one of my many guilty pleasures. I will probably blog about this sometime. For now, just know that I am very well versed in the comings and goings of Port Charles, and am only slightly ashamed of how knowledgeable I am on the marriages of Sonny Corinthos. 

5. French Toast is my favorite food. I never actually make it, but I order it quite often when we go out to brekkie on the weekends. What makes bread better? Dip it in batter and fry it. Duh.

6. I want to travel all over the world and don't like when places are not travel friendly. I find it distressing when I hear on the news that someplace I would love to visit is in the throws of civil war. Or has been ravaged by floods. Yes, I am worried for the people, obviously. I am not a monster. But I also worry that the place may never be tourist friendly again and I will never be able to go there. For example: Egypt. They have some issues in the civil unrest department. They really need to get it together so I will not worry about dying a fiery death if I visit. Sure, it will probably be 20 years before I have the time or money to mosey over, but they need to be ready. I gots to see them pyramids before I die. Mama has a bucket list.

7. I am addicted to twitter and facebook. I totally understand it smacks of "she needs to get a life." But I do it anyway. Judge away (or don't, because I may cry if you call me out.) It started because I was home all day with an infant. Sure she was cute, but a conversationalist she was not. My computer became a way for me to see what adults were doing out in the real world. Away from spit up and crap diapers. So there, I admit it. I am an addict and there is probably an intervention somewhere in my future.

And now for the recipients...In no particular order.... Drum roll please....

1. La Dulce Vita~The Sweet Life
2. Mommys Nest
3. Poop on a Hot Tin Slide
4. Sarcasm 101
5. stark.raving.mad.mommy.
6. The Desperate Housemommy
7. yeahgoodtimes
8. Eat, Drink and Decorate
9. Life is Hard Laugh Anyway
10. Three Gals 

(no idea why my links are different colors. that is operator error.)

Some of you are probably like, "lord, another award. I am already so popular, where will I find the space for yet another one?" If that is the case, then you should call Meryl Streep. She will tell you how to handle it. (BTW, I don't feel sorry for you.) Also, please pick which award you want. Wait, I have a better idea. You all get both. Eeks, this must be how Santa feels! You're welcome lovely bloggers. Enjoy your award, link back to me, and pay it forward. 

If you need me, I will be preparing for my interview with Barbara Walters. I am sure you are familiar with the Most Intriguing People specials she occasionally does. 


Monday, September 5, 2011

10 years ago...

About to board in Greensboro
(can you hear her sobbing through the space time continuum?)
As you all know, I have been feeling a little, er, long in the tooth lately. (If you have no idea what I am referring too click here for a little educational look back.) Discovering that this past weekend marked the 10th anniversary of my epic EPIC trip down under was sobering. How can it have been ten years since I boarded a plane with my friend Jenn to leave for eight long months of being adventurous far, far from home? That would have made me *gasp* 22. (Not to mention skinny with a fun haircut and nary a care in the world). I was fresh off of graduation and didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I had the rest of my life to work for the man (insert parental eye roll here.) Why not travel? When I found out three of my friends were going to backpack around Australia, I jumped on the opportunity. Endless summer, living out of a bag, traveling around like a gypsy? Yes please.

Wakey wakey...touring around New Zealand
Looking back at myself as a traveler, through the lens of an adult with a child, I gasp at the idiotic things we did. Like getting on a dude's boat to travel between islands in Fiji. Hitch hiking in Tahiti and riding in a water delivery truck. Walking through the jungle in Thailand with forest fires literally lapping at the edge of the trail (in retrospect, they probably call them jungle fires.) But we felt untouchable, safe in our little band of four. Not sure that would have helped us had we been sold into white slavery, but back then I had no worries. I also think we had the invincible, world by the balls feeling that only the young possess. I suppose we kind of did have the world, or at least the southern hemisphere, by the balls. It was ours for the taking, and take we did. I went skydiving and saw whales and penguins in New Zealand. I rode an elephant in Thailand and ate food cooked in a crock pot in a shack. I got insane food poisoning from food cooked in a crock pot in a shack. I petted kangaroos, held a wombat and a koala. I had a zookeeper ask me to please let go of the koala, my turn was over. I lived in an awesome flat in Sydney with my three best friends. I worked at a hostel. I got fired from a hostel. I played skip-bo almost every day for seven months. I took planes, trains, boats, barges, rafts, canoes, taxis and buses. I swam in the ocean in Fiji and drank kava kava out of a coconut shell. (Related news: Kava tastes like dirty foot water.) I partied all night in a club, dancing my tale off. I threw up in a trash can behind the desk at work with a lobby of people watching (classic case of cause and effect). I rang in the New Year in the Sydney harbor on a yacht and ate my birthday cake on an island in Fiji. It was seven months filled with moments, big and small, that changed my life. And I wouldn't trade one of them for anything else. Except maybe the barfing behind the desk. That one, I could have done without. And the food poisoning, that was a rough few days. But you get my point. Awesome time. Amazing. Ridiculous. EPIC.

Our version of The Wiggles
I feel so lucky to have had the experience of traveling. It is so important to understand the world outside of the tiny box we live in. There is so much out there to be seen, so many people to meet, and places to visit. Once that is added to your life experience, it is easier to grasp the idea of the global community. I had the luck to make friends with people from all over the world, some I still keep in touch with all these years later. I will encourage my kids to travel either as yound adults. (Until then they have to stay in their cages where mommy can see them at all times.) Besides life, travel is the greatest gift my parents gave me. I hope to be able to pass that along to Alice. I wnat her to go and see the world, far and wide. Then she can come home, become a respectable member of society who pays taxes, get married, and have her own babies. But epic travel first. Because Mommy says so.


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...