Mommy with a Penis

We may have been spared the entire Bristol/Levi scandal if they lived in Northampton, England... And from what we've seen of Mr. Johnston johnson... A little rear entrance might have suited him just fine.

The heinous dress kept calling to me. And like a traffic accident, I couldn't stop from sneaking peaks. It was a pink on pink confection, bubblegum on top with matching bows on a fuchsia ballerina skirt. Oh, and did I mention Hello Kitty's puss emblazoned across the bodice? My teeth hurt just looking at it. I was standing in the checkout line at Macy's buying last minute Christmas gifts when the monstrosity caught my eye. My cynical inner voice couldn't help but query, "What poor Filipino sweat shop kid pieced together that dish rag?" But quashing the cynicism was another voice, one that was more powerful, more resonant, and I'm embarrassed to admit, surprising fey, "Maxie would love it!" Followed immediately by, "And I have a coupon!" I'm not sure which gave me the fortitude, the possibility of making my daughter deliriously happy or twenty-five percent off the already discounted price, but either way, I grabbed a 5T off the rack ...

When Michael and I started this having children thing , I was determined to keep our home from looking like day care gone wild. There would be no forts in the living room, no crazy swing set structure taking up the entire back yard and no toys littering every room of the house. I envisioned a Japanese minimalist approach to parenting. "Here's a box, honey. Now go play." And for a while the kids didn't know that a wooden spoon banging on Tupperware wasn't the neatest thing since drinkable yogurt. The thing is, Michael and I didn't just renovate our house, we gayed the place up big time. Our kitchen is the perfect example of sleek, sexy lines amidst varying textures: polished granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, brushed nickle pulls on blond bamboo-like cabinetry. Thomas the Train and Dora the Explorer simply do not belong on the imported slate floor doing the Watusi. Likewise, our bathroom is sumptuous. The chestnut wood cozying up to the creamy mar...

Well, it's been awhile my furry friends. It's a new decade, there are ten Oscar nominees for best picture ( The Blind Side...really? ), New Orleans won the Super Bowl, and Sarah Palin can't seem to keep her yap shut. I'm sure it's seemed as if I buried my head in the sand. Well, yes, all sorts of dithering has gone on in the first six or so weeks of the new year. But on this crisp and clear manic Monday I've set aside the remote, the joystick, the newest Dan Brown novel, for it's time to be present, and maybe, just maybe I will string a word or two together creating these magnificent constructs called sentences. Twenty-ten hasn't been all mindless avoidance. There have been torrential rains, caffeine free mornings, a tearful goodbye to my close friends carbohydrates, many many triangles of Laughing Cow cheese smeared on stalks of celery, reintroducing myself to the gym, hating the fact I made that reintroduction, a jaunt to Knots Berry Farm, getting cas...