Birthday Blues

My youngest turns 6 today. It is the official end of the ‘baby years.’ This year, she will grow a couple of inches; lose the chubby cheeks, knees, elbows, and toddler belly. She’ll probably even lose that cute ‘baby way’ of talking. “Them don’t know, mama.” I let her sleep in my bed last night because I wanted-no- needed to be close to her when she magically turned 6 in the night. Of course, the kick to the ribs at 3:00am reminded me why I don’t like to sleep with her all night. (Sometimes she wants to come into the bed to fall asleep and her daddy will transfer her to her own bed.)
Last night, I was filled with visions of babies, knowing that she’s my last. My heart ached, but a hard kick to the bladder, reminiscent of when she would do that from the INSIDE, brought me back to reality. What was I thinking? My 42 year old body could never handle another pregnancy. My 42 year old mind couldn’t handle another kid. So I’ll hug my sweet baby and enjoy the fact that she is growing up and there are many more adventures to be held…thankfully, changing diapers is no longer one of them. Happy Birthday, Julianna Rose!

Life's a Beach!

With the kids spending this week at my parents’ house in Pittsburgh, my husband and I have planned an impromptu mini-vacation to the beach. It has been 12 years since we’ve been to the beach without kids. Despite the fact that the beach is one of the most relaxing vacation spots ever, when you add kids to the mix, it actually can become quite stressful at times.

First, you have the packing. You have to think of every emergency imaginable and then make sure that you pack for it. Did you pack one pair of sweats for each kid in case a freak cold front blows through? Do you have antibiotic cream, allergy cream, anti-itch cream, and band-aids for all types of beach related injuries? Do you have 5 different levels of sun screen, and aloe vera gel? Do you have sandals, flip flops, swimmy shoes, swimmy vest, beach towels, pool toys, and fishing gear? The packing list can go on forever. When you finally get everything stuffed in the van, there’s barely room for the family to sit - let alone sit comfortably.

When we finally get to the beach, I want to walk the beach, but the kids want to play in the pool, which means I have to go and ‘play’ in the pool too.

At the beach, I try not to get dizzy watching three kids, in three different places all the while praying that a shark or giant wave doesn’t get one child while my eyes are focused on another.

Then there’s the ‘sea fishing’ that my son and husband like to do. I have visions of hooks getting stuck in flesh, nasty fish germs on tiny fingers that end up in tiny mouth, giant fish pulling my son and pole off the pier. Those worries are best left to my husband.

After a day filled with sun and sand, the kids have to shower first, or the beds will be filled with sand, which means by the time I get my shower, the hot water is gone and all the towels are soggy.

Then I have to worry about making sure the kids are staying hydrated so they don’t get sun poisoning, keeping their ears drained so they don’t get swimmer’s ear, providing enough ‘healthy’ food so they don’t get stomach aches and….well, the list goes on and on.

So you can see, the fact that tomorrow, my husband and I are going to the beach for three days without our children is truly worthy of some celebration. I’m not quite sure how my husband and I are going to survive this trip without kids. I can tell you this: we will be packing light, VERY light.

Welcome Back

After a LONG hiatus, I am ready to entertain the masses once again with my adventures in the Frumpy Zone. What? You don't have time to read about my issues, you've got your own crap to deal with? I understand. Well, whenever you feel that you are being swallowed up by the insanity of your world, take a break, and check out the Frumpy Zone. You will return to your world thanking the gods for the chaos in your own life. At least, you'll get a laugh and a short break.

Frumpy Fashion Quiz

Frumpy’s Fashion Tips:



Warning:

The tips are most likely not appropriate for anyone who takes fashion seriously.

Take the quiz below to see if this site is for you.



Frumpy's Fashion Quiz:



1. Your favorite place to shop for clothes is

A. Upscale mall

B. Department Store Clearance Racks



2. The tags on your clothes state

A. Dry clean only

B. Wash and wear



3. You wear clothes to

A. Look fabulous

B. Feel comfortable



4. The most you would pay for a pair of jeans is

A. Money isn’t an object if they look great.

B. No more than $50 – and for that price they better look good on me!



If you chose A for most of your answers:

Stay away from this site. It is totally inappropriate for a woman as classy as you. If you already looked ahead then quickly shut down your computer, head to Nordstrom’s and buy a pair of Italian leather shoes…full price. You’ll feel much better.



If you chose B for most of your answers:

Welcome to the Frumpy Zone! This site will let you know where to find all the great fashion bargains and give you great fashion tips like: floral pastel printed blouses are great at hiding spit-up stains. Gauzy peasant skirts are perfect for catching puke.*



*This really happened. I was at the pediatrician's office with my son when he was

four. He had a horrible cough, lots of congestion, and a fever. When they did the finger stick he literally cried so hard that he puked all over me. Luckily, I had on

my gauzy peasant skirt and was able to catch it all, walk over to the sink, rinse it out with pleasant smelling hand soap and be on my way. By the time we got home, my skirt was dry and no one could have known that I had been wearing vomit an hour before.
FZ

F A S H I O N

The Blob Returns

Read part one of The Blob Returns in the October issue of Richmond Parents Monthly.
Note: Please excuse the typo in the above article. It was an editorial error.


You have now entered the Frumpy Zone…a place that sometimes echoes the television sitcoms of the past. Richard Lee spent the previous day in the Frumpy Zone and is only too happy to have left and returned to the reality of work. Unfortunately, his wife, Colleen, wakes up to a world that is colored in varying shades of grey. Her usual t-shirt and yoga pants have been replaced by a knee length light grey cocktail dress. Her red hair, now glossy grey, is clipped in a neat pile on top of her head and she’s wearing a very dark grey lipstick. The Frumpy Zone has now been sucked into an eerie replication of an ‘I Love Lucy’ episode.

Ricky spent the previous day cleaning up the mess from the ‘Blob incident.’ He warned Lucy in his sexy broken English not to wash the towels at one time because they had sopped up an entire bottle of laundry soap.

Lucy, the ever dutiful wife replied, “Yes, Ricky.” Unfortunately, Lucy doesn’t want to spend an entire day washing 10 loads of towels, so she decides to cram just half of the towels into the machine. Forty five minutes later, Lucy opens up the front loading machine only to have a mountain of bubbles froth out onto the floor. “WAAAA, Ricky!!!!!!!” she cries, quickly slamming the door of the machine shut. Luckily, Ricky is at work and can’t hear her cries of distress.

Worried that Ricky will be angry that she didn’t listen, Lucy hurries to clean up this disaster before he gets home. First, Lucy gets a bucket and lets the bubbles drain into it then dumps them in the bathtub. Nex,t she starts lugging heavy, wet towels in the bucket to the bathtub. Each soaking towel weighs about twenty pounds – not an easy task in a cocktail dress and pumps. Lucy is sweating, her hair is escaping its ‘up-do’ and the front of her dress is wet. Thirty minutes later, the towels are draining in the tub, and the laundry closet floor is sparkling.

Emerging from her bedroom in a fresh outfit in varying shades of grey, Lucy calls Ethel and tells her about her latest disaster.

Sometimes, even the worst disasters can provide entertainment. Colleen has spent an unusual day that could have been an old “I Love Lucy” episode…a day that one can only have in the Frumpy Zone.

My First Pink Tool Kit

My First ‘Pink Tool Kit’ Project



My pink tool kit finally came in and I have to say it is sooooo cute! It has everything a novice project creator could want – even a cordless screwdriver. My first project would be to install (such a professional constructive sounding word) 6 plant hangers on the front porch. I only have to measure and screw in two screws apiece. A piece of cake for my adorable pink tool kit. R-I-G-H-T….This is the Frumpy Zone. Nothing is that easy.



It was a dark and stormy night… (Hey, it works for Snoopy.)



Of course it was a little muggy but the sun was hiding behind the clouds and the kids loved watching the storm from the porch. I laid out all of my supplies and got to work. Now I must say one thing before I get started. I am not a meticulous person when it comes to projects. I hate reading directions and I like to do my own thing. When I cook, my recipes never come out the same way twice. I tell you this so you know how dedicated I was when I measured exactly where the first screw would go so each plant hanger would be uniform.



Next, I hammered the screw in place with my pink hammer – too cute. Then I added a Phillips tip to my new pink electric screwdriver. (Of course my daughter had to pry the tips out of my pink tool box because they were stuck and I couldn’t remove them.) Funny thing, my really cute pink handled electric screwdriver wasn’t strong enough to even scratch the wood.



So I tried a Standard tip… no luck….O.K. so maybe pink has sissified my tools… So I dug my old tool kit from the top of the fridge – of course I almost got hit in the head with a grill lighter which clattered to the floor while I was lifting the overflowing tool bag.

I rummaged around until I found a red and black screwdriver with removable tips. After adding a Standard tip, I screwed in my first screw. Not bad, until I got to the end and only had about ¼ inch to go and the screw wouldn’t budge. So I decided to start on the last screw. After much struggling, I finally got both screws in. I was sweaty and tired but filled with a sense of accomplishment. This is so much more rewarding than doing dishes. I know that when this job is done, it will stay done. Unlike dishes, no matter how many times I wash them, there will always be more.



On to the second plant hanger...



The storm slowed down to a drizzle and I was ready for hanger number two. For some reason, the wood on this hanger seemed harder. I couldn’t get the screws to turn. I kept alternately hammering them and then trying to screw them in. My screwdriver kept slipping, leaving little slash marks in the paint. My sore arms were quivering like a bowl of Jell-O. I was hot, sweaty and starting to curse. The bleepin’ screws wouldn’t go in no matter how hard I tried. If I hadn’t already completed one, I would suspect that I was dealing with cement. After quite a bit more sweating and upper arm quivering, I finally finished hanger #2. Total time to screw in four screws: one hour and ten minutes.



Of course after that, I figured I would do the rest later.



When my husband came home from work, I proudly showed him my two installed plant hangers. He wasted no time telling me that it should only take about 10 minutes to screw four screws – with the proper MAN tools of course!

He’s lucky I didn’t hit him over the head with my pink hammer!

The next day, my husband showed me how to use his ‘heavy duty MAN electrical drill/screwdriver combo thingy.’ He even let me try it on one of the screws. It seemed that my husband was running into the same issue: cement-wood. So I gratefully played “Vanna” and handed him all the supplies while he installed the remaining four plant hangers. Total time: one hour

Labels

Labels

I find it annoying that society, the media, the all elusive 'THEY' have to label mothers. You have the Stay@Home Mom, the Working Mom, Super Mom, Soccer Mom, and now the Blogger Moms. Can you see them lined up like Barbie dolls with all their little matching outfits?




Check out Super Mom Barbie. She has the 'Farrah Fawcett cut' and even comes with a little red cape that can turn into an apron or a silk nightie depending on the situation.(Frying pan and bacon not included.)






Working Mom Barbie is all dressed up with her leather pumps, and matching briefcase, her hair cut in a slick bob. (She has a spit-up stain on her suit jacket.)









Blogger Mom Barbie comes with a laptop and her own Starbucks travel mug.







Soccer Mom Barbie has a designer sweat suit and a cooler filled with snacks, a first aid kit, and Gatorade. (Soccer ball decal included.)





Stay@Home Mom Barbie has her hair pulled back in a pony tail, is sporting Ken's t-shirt, and a pair of faded jeans. None of the other Barbie Moms will talk to her.




Then I went to work full time and WOW, there's the guilt again, except this time it's guilt because I'm not home for everything and guilt because it actually felt good to be away from the chaos for a little while. Despite our circumstances, we are all mothers and have made choices that work for our own independent situations. We need to stick together but for some reason, the media, (made up mostly of men) wants to keep us divided. Why?



Because together and united we have power! God forbid a bunch of mothers actually realize how powerful they truly are. The term Mommy Wars is the most idiotic word I have ever heard. Come on! We all have something in common....we love our kids! We need to stand together and refuse to be labeled. We are more complex than that! (Can you hear the Battle Hymn of the Republic playing softly in the background?) So don't let THEM label us. We are so much more than that.