Wuv, twoo wuv...

You know you have been married a long time when:

• Your husband asks you on a Saturday morning "What do you want to do today?" and you know that is code for "Do you want to go to Disneyland with the kids?"



• You answer back with either a "Yea right" glare or "No, I don't want to go" (see "What do you want to do today?" above) and it doesn't take a genius for him to know exactly what that means.



• When he sees an actor he knows but can't remember his name or the movie he was in, and is trying to describe it to you because you weren't with him when he saw said actor, and he says "You know, that guy, from you know, that movie..." and you do.



• He's finally figured out, when grocery shopping without you (which yea, is pretty awesome. I know.) after 17 years of marriage, which toilet paper to buy, which flavor of Coffeemate to get, and which one Lean Cuisine flavor you like.



• He understands that it takes a lot of time to put on mascara if you are a Carsman girl. A lot. Of. Time. (Again, A LOT--two words, people! I mean, really, is it SOOOO hard? A Lot. Not that hard, right? Is it just an American thing that we don't know that A and Lot are actually two words that go together separately? I will have to research that. How stupid are we? Okay, rant over.) Back to the mascara: there's the curling, then the primer, then first coat; dry time, another coat; more curling, declumping; it goes on. It's a curse, I know. "Best not done in a car" he winces, as I do the final curl, and he really means it.



• He understands when you get pissy that while he gets the concept of the buying and the using of the above mentioned toilet paper, he has absolutely no comprehension whatsoever when it comes to the difficult task of actually changing the toilet paper roll. Yup, he will leave the empty paper on the holder, pretty much indefinitely, and use a new roll that he will keep on the counter, inconveniently out of his reach, just to prove his point...whatever that point is. He's kinda forgotten by now. But he means it. And he understands that you get mad...and he's okay with that. (Same concept holds with the paper towels in the kitchen; though God Help You if you use his paper towels in the garage. Those are HIS paper towels and are not to be touched for any reason. Don't even think of letting those run out. Consequences of the most severe kind will ensue.)


• I really won't go into the burping and farting here (which JP refers to as "calling the ducks" for obvious reasons) except to say that men are just stinky. I'm sorry, but there is just no need to clear the room when I, um shall we say, cut it? But when JP lets it fly? Whew, the kids and I run for our gas masks that I keep on a low shelf in the pantry, low enough that Lukas can reach his own. He uses it often, usually precipitated by the cry of "Mama, Daddy's too stinky! Make him stop." To which I have no response, sadly.


• When you go out on a rare date night and end up at the grocery store? Yes, that's a sign of being married a long time. However, in our defense, that's usually after a movie, or dinner out. Trader Joe's is usually not the actual date, which would be kinda pathetic. Though hey, in this economy (which I'm kind of getting tired of saying, frankly) that may become our date night for awhile. If we get to have one. I'm actually writing this on a Saturday night--clearly not going out.


• I guess I'll cover sex--still great after all these years--if we're both awake to actually have it. That about sums it up.


• I accept the fact that my man is generous, silly, funny, gregarious, a neat freak, and a great cook. Sigh...it's my cross to bear. So if he's occasionally grumpy, anti-social, and--oh God--still puts Seinfeld on every fucking day, well, so be it. Sometimes I think that if I hear that music one more time...

and then he buys me some milk chocolate or sunflowers or simply spends time looking at

Transformers on the computer with Lukas or doing math with Anya and I realize, wow-- I think we have it all down pretty well. Now if only we could get the toothpaste thing

right...

A bit of whimsy

Yes, I know it's been too damn long between posts...well, sorrrry! I've been busy. Busy as in:

Potty training Lukey which has worked out pretty well, actually. Only a few pee accidents every few days or so; check out the cuteness in his big boy undies!

Anya's school projects/field trips like her wax museum report and display where she actually portrayed Gene Autry, the singing cowboy. Yes, you read that right. My cute little girl was a dude and hey, she actually pulled it off with panache. One of the dads did a cool video of all the kids and put it to that catchy song by Feist (oh, you know it). Check it out at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a64lfxodeGE. We've also been to Sacramento for a day trip to the Governator's office and the State Capitol building (with his bear statue that his staff has lovingly dubbed "Fur-lough") and no we didn't get to meet him; the new California Vietnam Memorial (breathtaking); as well as the amazing Railroad Museum, Sutter's Fort (eh), the California Women and the Arts Museum (coolness), and, uh, Round Table, that most hallowed of California institutions (I know, though, as my younger sister Leslie reads this, she will argue that it IS hallowed and worthy. She lives in Colorado and can't get Round Table, poor kid.) And that was the end of that looooooong day. I'll just mention here that Anya's hair, which she has been growing out for months, was looking particularly messy, knotted up, and as JP says, afright. More on that later.

Additional Anya projects have included cleaning out my disasterous closet (hey, she volunteered!) and I'm happy to report she lugged up seven, yes seven, bags of maternity clothes, giant sized jeans, and other huge clothes and thank the Lord no longer fit me since I'm no longer gaining and losing and gaining and losing due to motherhood and babies. I'm still about 12 pounds over where I was pre-baby and to that I say, hey it will happen when I don't have a 3&1/2 year old with me 24 hrs/day. He starts school 3 days per week in the fall, and that's when I will hit the gym. You read it here first! Regardless, my closet is on its way to looking like a store. I still have a ways to go, but Anya made some real headway. Good job, baby!

The good news it that I discovered an amazing high-end boutique in Laguna Beach called HAVOC Designer Boutique. The owner, Hella Buchman, is an amazing lady who sells brand new and gently used high-end designers like Chanel, Dior, and Gucci at a fraction of what you would pay at department stores or even outlets. So, I hauled over 10 handbags that I haven't used in eons (Isabella Fiore, Kooba, a hot pink Marc Jacobs bought during my SATC days, even a Valentino in lavendar--ugh) and a pair of Blahniks that hurt my feet and wah-la! I now have my eye on an amazing charcoal grey Marni cashmere with brown mesh inserts and a Thakoon pleated buttoned jacket, as well as a John Hardy turquoise ring. Have to have one splurge! The rest of my future sales will go into a savings account for Anya. (Go to http://www.havocfashion.com/ or visit Hella at
374 Ocean Avenue, Laguna Beach, CA 92651 - Phone: 949.497.6822 Hours: Mon-Sat 10am-6pm / Sun 11am-4pm.) Visit if you're local or if you come into town--tons of John Hardy, Yurman, and Ripka; amazing shoes and bags; and she will call you if she gets in something in your size and style; she sized me up style and size wise in a matter of minutes. Awesome.

And while we're on the subject of my girl: she has been so amazing. Lots of stress these past few months with girl drama at the school and she has been taking the lessons we've been teaching her and putting them to use. Standing up for herself, defending her friends, talking things out--I'm very proud of her. I do think she enjoys the drama to a certain extent, and it can be exhausting at times--listening to how Allison and Lauren and Sierra and Sheena did this to that girl and that to her and OMG (where are my ear muffins as Lukey says?); but I have to admit I'm glad it's girl drama and not boy drama. I've become friendly with two other moms as a result of all this girl drama, as well as gotten to know her teacher on a personal level. He and JP are now sci-fi nerd boys together. Anyway, as Frasier used to say, I'm listening baby.

Finally, after she and I were done with the field trip of joy last Friday, we were picked up by my parents at the hallowed halls of Round Table. Mom was just coming down with a horrible cold, the kind that only my poor mother can get. She was just miserable by Saturday. So Dad ended up entertaining his girls, taking us out for a movie, a few meals out, going here and there, listening to music, even meeting up with our very best friends The Finermans; while poor mom was home resting, coughing, sneezing, etc. We felt so bad--and given that her case of the grumpies was as bad as her cough, so did she. Sorry Mama-san. :(

Meanwhile, Anya's hair had taken on a life of it's own. I think at one point I literally found a nest of birds living in it, along with the roots and berries to feed them. Even Anya agreed that we couldn't continue keeping it long--she can't handle me getting out the knots with her tender head, and she just can't take care of it herself--her idea of taking care of it is to throw it up in a ponytail, ignore the knots, and slink out of the house hoping I won't notice. So this week I took her for a haircut of epic proportions. We all agree it looks darling and is the right thing to do. She loved it in the salon. She hated it today when I blew it dry for her and had an absolute screaming meltdown. I told her I felt like I was on the makeover episode of America's Next Top Model and that made her laugh. Now she's over it. See pic at right.

So, all in all, that's been my life. JP has been home but is gearing up to be gone for most of June. My dear friend Ashle, who babysits for me on Wednesdays so I can get out of the house so I don't go absolutely bonkers, is 7&1/2 months pregnant with her second child--a girl she plans to give the middle name Tutu so she can dress her in tutus all the time. I love her, she's so crazy-fun. I wish I had the daringness (?) to do shit like that. She's so whimsical. Maybe because she's a Libra--though I have two sisters who are Libras and I certainly cannot see my younger sister doing that. Ha ha. Caren maybe? Leslie, absofuckinglutelynot. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Anyway, on that note, maybe we all need a bit of whimsy in our lives. I think I do.

Peace out.

The BMW block, Mia Carruthers, holistic healing and more

Stuff I've learned recently: my son is in a doesn't want to eat phase--he "hates" food (unless it's a fried fishhead, see pix, rt). I can't eat a McDonald's Big Mac anymore without getting sick. I really love pineapple. I don't drink enough water. I do not like Spongebob and I don't think I ever will. However, I LOVE Phinneas and Ferb (they are gods) and Shaun the Sheep (claymation short by Disney). iCarly is cute and well written. I still can't find a perfect mascara though Diorshow comes darn close but it can be clumpy. I love seeing a movie in IMAX (STAR TREK was amazing) and wow the seats are sooo comfortable. Little boys love to fart and then laugh about it. They also smell like puppies when they are dirty. 9 yr old girls love drama, real and imagined--and they still love to cuddle with their mommies. They bleat and complain when they have to do anything having to do with regard to hygiene. And they play a mean game of street hockey! (See American Idol reject Kai Kalama--with her cool teacher Mr. Hartman--who sang the National Anthem at her game!)

Most movie stars really do get plastic surgery frequently (my friend has an insider source), especially after having their babies, which is really unfair to make us think it's just normal. (Have you SEEN Valerie Bertinelli? Even her face looks different!) Come on Kirsty--lose the weight with lipo like the rest of Hollywood! I think Joan River' face should come with a flammable at high heat warning. I think Adam will win American Idol and I don't care if he's gay or loves purple people. And I loved Allison! I love to read http://www.dooce.com/ because she has great quotable lines, like this one: Heather is talking about how she is finally calling a nurse to make an appointment to have her broken toe looked at--a week after she broke it. "And I just didn't have the energy to explain to her how I like to practice a holistic approach to healing called DENIAL." THAT is a great line and one I believe most people in my family practice.

I also realize I'm getting pissy about little things, like why does my daughter's school lunch program charge only $4.00 (good deal for 4-star Laguna Beach Sapphire Restaurant catered lunch) but an additional $2 and fucking 25 cents for a mandatory "a la carte box" that contains a PAPER napkin, a plastic fork, and a small (tiny) water. I ask you, WTF? I told them fuck you very much school lunch program people, we'll take the yummy 4-star lunch for $4.00 that she eats everyday, but I DARE you to tell me that I HAVE to pay for your overpriced box of crap! I've taken it up with the principal. Seriously, I know it's convenient and all, but that's an extra $2.25/day times 5 days, which = $45/mo or over $400/ year. In paper and plastic. Come on!

Ridonkculous.

Or things like when any ole reality "star" or model or actor/actress becomes a designer now. Say what? Like that chick from that dumb show on MTV that I've never watched for fear that my brain will melt The Hills, Lauren Cuckoo something? "Look, I'm known now, I'm hip because people throw free stuff at me, I can make squares and circles, look! I'm a designer!" It makes me sick. When I see all the incredibly talented people who have toiled away for years and years through childhood and design school, heartbreak and trials, and she gets some marketing or network honcho who says go here, walk this way, we'll give you a design deal if you plug mark.cosmetics...it's just disgusting and icky. When I saw her "sketches" I laughed, poor girl: Anya is more talented at age 9. It's like they've duped her into thinking she can really do this; now her line has flopped and they are "retooling" it. Sad, yet ironically funny. (When US Magazine keeps calling to renew, I tell them when they take all these Hills creatures off, then I'll renew. Why are they on the covers of magazines? Do people really care about stupid and stupider, I can't even say their names without barfing, bible spouting, fake-boobed, blond girl that idiotically just married smarmy idiot? You KNOW who I'm talking about. I just want to know fake crap about the real stars, not those idiots. OK, I'm done.)

I started watching a new show on MTV (which I NEVER watch cuz I'm an old fogey) produced by hunky monkey Nick Lachey called "Taking the Stage" about a group of kids that go to his performing arts alma mater high school in Cincinnati, Ohio. I would recommend the show to my mom and dad but since the kids mumble a lot they would probably be quite lost. However, there is a 17-yr old singer/songwriter on there named Mia Carruthers who rocks! She has a beautiful, lyrically pure voice and her lyrics are wise beyond her years. Check out her gorgeous ballad "Breathe You In" at http://www.mtv.com/videos/misc/370240/mia-carruthers-breathe-you-in.jhtml#id=1608938 or http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nLcJ5HqgEE. You will definitely be hearing this girl on the radio. She is THAT talented. So I forgive MTV for The Hills and its stupid cuckoohead people for giving talented kids shots like this.

And now for my most controversial epiphany: I will apologize in advance to any of my readers out there who drive this particular car so feel free to disagree BUT admit it, I'm sure you see yourself in this description. BMW drivers are hands down the most aggressive and idiotic drivers on the road. I say this after years and years of having driven as a sales rep and also as a mom in Orange County, BMW capitol of the world. I have never seen such crazy and dangerous driving anywhere like what I've witnessed here, and I've lived in New Jersey and New York! They really do believe they own the road. How dare we switch lanes? When they bought the car they bought the lane, didn't we know that?

Case in point which makes my dad chuckle to this day: BMW sport car tailing me in a school zone as I am cautiously slowing down in the left lane behind a huge truck since he was slowing down and I just couldn't tell what he was going to do. Beamer decides to gun it and pass me on the right JUST as said huge truck makes a hard right turn into a driveway. So, guess who slams right into big truck? I think the school fence caught him he was going so fast.

Now, if this was just a one-time thing, no biggie. But it's repeated and ongoing in this area. And of course, Barbie and Skipper next store both drive BMWs, so that just cemented it for me. (Of course, I accept there are exceptions to the rule: a nice man in a beamer gave me the right of way the other day at a 4-way stop; I was so shocked that I took a moment to go. The car behind me honked. Guess what kind of car it was? Yep, a BMW.)

There's also my dirty car rule: Why is it that dirty cars are ALWAYS going to be the slow car that you inevitably get stuck behind? You see it 4 cars away on the freeway, going 35 in the fast lane and say, whoa, let's avoid that car! But somehow, you always end up right behind that particular car. And not just behind it, but boxed in? Then, when you finally get a chance to pass, a minuscule opportunity to pass that dirty, slow driver, what happens?

Yup, here comes that damn BMW speeding up to block your way.

Chinese boobies

Haven't written much because I've been busy cooking, cleaning--totally using my college degree--plus my stupid computer got some dumb virus so every time I tried to cruise around the Internet it would take me to some completely different site than the one I wanted to go to...for example, I'd type in "iron rich foods" and when I'd press enter, I'd end up on Chinese porn. Yay me. That was some eye-opening fun.


So it's taken JP awhile to get that cleared up, given that he's had to research the best way to get rid of this dang bug...Spyware, Biodefender, blah, blah, blah. I did my own research (I picked my B.I.L.'s brain). We even burned a wax Toshiba laptop in effigy and we danced around it naked chanting "virus be gone" in Swahili on our date night last Saturday in hopes that even that might work--we got nothin.

So what he ended up doing in a nutshell, so your head doesn't explode and you don't die of boredom, is he set my computer to new and wiped out everything and started over. All I know is it seems to be working though I still don't have Word, I have to go out to the Internet to get my mail which is kind of a pain; on the plus side, I haven't seen any Chinese boobies for awhile now. Which, whew, is quite the relief.