Archive for April, 2008

Keeping it Real – Mother’s Day Photo Contest

April 29, 2008

The folks over at www.5minutesformom.com are hosting a Mother’s Day Photo Contest with the theme “motherhood”.  I checked out some of the pics already and many of them are these amazing and beautiful portraits of motherhood often seen through the innocence of childhood.  There are dozens of truly talented and emotional peeks into mothers’ lives.  I wanted to enter so I went through literally hundreds of photos of the family, of the boys, of me pregnant.  And this is the picture I decided on:

 

Why this one you might ask?  This one where I look like I am 2 weeks overdue, where I look like I have been in the hospital for 4 days on a multi-day pitocin induction, where I look like I haven’t slept – for even a moment – in 72 hours, where I look like I am about to be wheeled into surgery to get this kid out of me.  Why this one?

 

Motherhood is about joy and beauty and unconditional love.  But motherhood is also about pain and sacrifice.

 

My tummy used to be flat.

I used to sleep 8 hours a night.

I used to buy lattes. Now I buy diapers.

I don’t get the luxury of being selfish anymore.

I have never known pain and heartache as when this child lets me down.

I have a road map of motherhood that stretches from my boobs to my knees. 

Some days do feel like labor. 

 

And even so, I got lost in this child the second I laid eyes on him.

 

Advertisements

Open Letter to my dear sister

April 29, 2008

Dear Sister –

When I told you that you are in the wrong profession if you want to make money, I was clearly wrong. 

Salt Lake City’s new library director.
*    Salary: $117,000.
* Education: Bachelor’s degree in early-childhood/human development, University of Vermont, 1980. Master of library science, Emporia State University in Kansas, 1995.
* Career:    Co-owned The Book Co., a Denver children’s bookstore, from 1981 to 1989; held various positions at the Denver Public Library from 1989 to 2008.

Maybe you’re just in the wrong town.  Please don’t take it too hard.  I’m not successful either. 

love,

Ruth

PS If push comes to shove, you could buy a train and sell rides.  Or get this, you could become a nose and insure it for $5 million then be sure your nose has a little mishap.  That oughta cash out big time.

It’s time for some REAL baseball

April 28, 2008

In preparation for Riley to start tee ball tomorrow, we did a little shopping.  My cute little sporty-dyke was happier than I had ever seen her while shopping.  Last week I dragged her to a few clothing spots and got nothing but half-hearted nods.  She actually swooned over the bat.  Insisted on buying multiple balls.  The mitt she bought is top notch.  Of course, Riley got his own tee too.  My kid now has more equipment than I suspect the coach even has.  We got home and she tore through the packaging like it was Solstice.  Then we all went out and played.  An hour later we returned.  I was hot and tired having played more baseball in the last hour than I had played in the last decade.  Riley hadn’t even taken off his shoes when he announced, “That was just practice.  Now its time for some REAL BASEBALL.”

He turned on the TV.  He inserted “Wii Sports.”  He proceeded to hit a home run.

Another get rich quick idea

April 27, 2008

I took the little mooches to the zoo today.  We saw hundreds of animals and an equal number of pregnant women.  What is it about pregnant women and the zoo?  We rode the train.  The rip-off-3-minute-so-not-worth-a-dollar train ride that somehow the boys always convince me they deserve to ride.  We waited our 10 minutes to get on the train when I realized what a brilliant idea a train actually is.

 

At $1 per person

With at least 50 people per train ride.

Train ride = approx. 3 minutes. (This allows 2 minutes for unloading/reloading and the train can still operate 12 rides per hour.)

50 folks at a dollar a piece X 12 rides an hour = $600 buck an hour

$600 per hour that’s about $4800 per 8 hour day.

You gotta employ a ticket-taker and a train operator.  At $10 per hour that’s a mere  $160 per day.

There’s track to lay (does one lay track?), a train to buy, and gasoline is expensive.  Would I need to purchase train liability insurance?  Even so, at $4800 per day intake, I think there’s profit to be made here.

 

Wonder what a train costs?

 

Confessions of an employed lesbian

April 25, 2008

It is time to confess.  I have been sitting on some great news all week and I haven’t yet shared.  I got a job!  And not just any job either.  I got the kind of job that I always wanted.  The kind of job that thinking about doing gives me butterflies in the pit of my tummy.  But happy butterflies like this is the start of something very good.  This new job is with a hip and progressive organization.  And the job requires that I dress smart and sassy and professional. 

Smart.

Sassy.

Professional.

These are not adjectives used to describe my wardrobe on a daily basis.  This has not been my wardrobe since my oldest was born over 6 years ago. 

So what do I do?

The way I see it, I have 2 options.

  1. Spend the $1,000 it will take to totally revamp my look into a smart, sassy, professional vibe.
  2. Spend the $1,000 it will take to buy a new treadmill thus dropping the 20 pounds of baby fat that still sags from my tummy and rear and revert to my old smart, sassy, professional clothing that for 6 years has hung in plastic bags in the basement closet just waiting for me to be a size 10 again.    

I’m thinking I’ll finally donate the size 10 and hit the mall.

Update: Those were Oaxacan brownies

April 24, 2008

Will mentioned after dinner that he was going to try to make those vegan brownies again, this time using agave nectar.

 

Me:  There was more wrong with those brownies than the lack of agave.

 

Will: I’ve been thinking it might have been the wheat flour.

 

Me: What wheat flour?  We don’t have wheat flour.

 

Will: I got the flour from that jar there.

 

Will pointed to the masa harina.

This will not curb your chocolate craving

April 24, 2008

My friend Will has been excited to make vegan brownies for the last week.  I wasn’t sure what the excitement was about necessarily.  I typically save my enthusiasm for food items with milk and eggs.  And a lot of butter and sugar which were also absent from his brownie recipe. 

 

Flour.  Check.

Applesauce.  Check.

Cocoa Powder.  Check.

Agave Nectar.  Hmm.  Not in the juice aisle.  Not in the Ethnic aisle.  No where to be found.

 

Will’s thought process must have gone something like this.

 

Well, here’s guava nectar.  Guava shares 4 letters with agave.  Anything that has a A-G-A-V in it has to taste pretty close to agave.  Switch a little U to an E and -ta da – you’ve got agave.  Definitely worth a try. 

 

Agave Guava  nectar.  Check.

 

The brownies looked enticing.

They filled the kitchen with a delightful aroma while baking.

I was even getting excited for a little vegan taste test.

 

They were disgusting.

The brownies were cakey and crumbly.  And they were not sweet.

I considered adding a scoop of ice-cream to the mix, but figured it’d just destroy the ice-cream.

Will agreed.  The brownies were a bust.

We threw the entire pan out.

 

The moral of the story according to Will:  Guava does not equal agave.

The moral of the story according to me:  vegan schmeegan!

I take my kudos where I can get them

April 23, 2008

 

On Sunday I took Grandma out to breakfast at the restaurant where I used to work. Riley stayed with cousins but I had Casey on my hip along with a diaper bag and I looked – ohh so domestic.  The restaurant has changed a lot since I worked there 15 years ago.  The menu, the servers, the quality of the food seems to have gone down.  But not the prices; they’d gone up.  Anyway, it was an early birthday breakfast for Grandma.  This reminds me – BIG SHOUT OUT TO GRANDMA as today is her birthday.  That very morning, Grandma told me she refused to be an old lady.  I love that about her.  78 years old and still so young. 

 

 

Anyway there was a server working there from my days as waitress.  She walked up to me and asked how I was.  I told her I was putting the smarter half through school, and living the Mommy life as a stay-at-home mom.  (I repeat. This gets so much more status in Utah than anything else I could say.)  I was the opposite of who she expected me to be.  So domestic.  So normal looking.  15 years changes a lot.  Anyway, the end of our conversation went like this:

 

Server:  Umm, I just want you to know my daughter is LIKE THAT.

Me:   Like what?  Gay?

Server:  (hushed voice) Yes.  She just came out, but I knew for awhile.

Me: I’ll be damned. 

Server: (mumbling still in a hushed voice as she turned to grab the coffee pot) so thank you.

 

Booze, Cigarettes, and Women

April 21, 2008

I spent the last 2 days in Roosevelt, so there is so much to write about.  But I’m going to pace myself.  More Roosevelt to come in the days ahead.

 

I spent a chunk of time with my grandparents on both sides, valuable time that I treasure even more now that they’re getting older.  I spent time with my dad and both his brothers.  My dad has a younger brother who has always been particularly irresponsible.  But irresponsible in a charming and hilarious way.  Irresponsibility that makes him endearing as my uncle and leaves me oh so thankful he isn’t my father.   

 

Years ago, my mom did his taxes which resulted in the following exchange.

 

Mom:   “You made $80,000 this year.  What did you do with all that money?”

 

Uncle:  “Well, let’s see.  I probably spent $10,000 on booze, $10,000 on cigarettes, about $10,000 on women.  I spent $1500 on that old truck out there.  I paid you twenty bucks to do my taxes.  Hell, I must have just wasted the rest.”

 

But he’s finally growing up and settling down.  He’s married a woman who I believe is smarter than him (rare for him in all his marriages) and she doesn’t put up with his shit.  He’s working hard to put her through college and they have a toddler together.  A toddler who he dotes on.  It’s charming really.  57 years old and finally all growed up.

PhD humor or lack thereof

April 19, 2008

Last night, my partner had a bunch of people over from her PhD program.  I felt a little tentative, nervous about being surrounded by such radical, political, intelligent people.  I wondered if I could hold my own politically and intellectually.  Turns out, I needn’t worry.  Three hours, and lots of beers later, I overheard this conversation.

 

PhD Student #1: I have a knock knock joke for you.

PhD Student #2: Okay.

PhD Student #1: Knock knock

PhD Student #2: (long pause.)  I don’t get it.

PhD Student #1: It’s a knock knock joke.  You’re supposed to say ‘Who’s there?’

PhD Student #2: Ok, sorry.  Who’s there?

PhD Student #1: Interrupting Cow.

PhD Student #2: What?  How is that funny? 

PhD Student #1: It’s not done.  You’re supposed to say ‘interrupting cow who?’ Haven’t you heard a knock knock joke before?

PhD Student #2: What?  I’m just supposed to know what to say?  I don’t get it.

PhD Student #1:  It’s a knock knock joke…Just say ‘interrupting cow who?’

PhD Student #2: Interrupting cow wh

PhD Student #1: Moo (followed by laughter)

PhD Student #2: How is that funny?  That’s just stupid.  Why’d you interrupt me?

 

I no longer felt intimidated by these soon-to-be PhDs.  I just felt very……SOBER.