When grocery shopping makes your teen need therapy
June 29, 2007
There are just SO many ways to torment a teenager when you take him to the grocery store. After a long day of being cooped up inside as it rained the rain of a thousand ark builders dreams, I realized that the kids had begun to gnaw on the furniture for sustenance and I should probably go buy some food. The teen actually offered to go with me. In my defense I had been bored and doing work things all day. I was in need of some…levity.
It all started when we went in the wrong doors. I mean, I cannot shop if I go in the wrong side of the store. There is an order to these things, people. Of course, this brought on the eye roll of all eye rolls from the teen.
“You seriously cannot start on this side of the store?”
“No! Do you wipe yourself BEFORE you go to the bathroom? I think not! You do things in order. “
I think he saw trouble coming then but chose to push on with me.
Once we reached the donut section (mmmmmmm donuts) he asked if he could have one. Of course I responded as any good, mature and well balance mother would:
“Ohhhh! I want one! I want one! Can I have a donut? I want chocolate. No, cream filled. No. No. I want glazed. No. I think I do want cream filled. Can I? Can I?” All the while clapping in glee.
That got me a “Motherrrrrr” (But he did grin/hide-a-laugh over it.)
Then we got to the area that houses the crunchy goodness of the chips. I stood and looked. And looked.
“What the hell? Where are the X-13D’s? I wanted to buy more X-13D’s and they don’t have any. Nacho cheese is so yesterday. This is so unfair!” *foot stomp*
“Mom, just get the Jalapeño Chips. They have kick.”
“I hate those. You are just trying to kill me. Meanie. I liked the whole mystery behind the X-13D chips. They intrigued me. No CHIPS.”
About this point Brandon wonders whether making a run for it is wise or not. Somehow he decides against it. (Silly boy.)
At the cereal aisle we are looking at the actually healthy stuff when I see that Fruit Loops has a cool little flash light thingie in it. I grab the box and shout, “DIBS! I get the toy! Mine!” At that point he looks as if he wants to self combust to get out of this situation.
“Mom. Seriously. This is not how we act in the store.” Of course that sets me off in a whole new fit of giggles.
“You’re just jealous I get the flashlight,” I mock.
He makes it with me all the way to the frozen foods when I challenged him to a race down the aisle to find the best frozen junk to pass off for dinner and the loser has to cook it when he asks for the keys to the van. In fact, he actually goes to grab them out of my pocket.
“No he didn’t you”, you say. Oh yes he did!
So I grabbed the keys and shoved them into my bra. Safe territory.
This was pretty much how the rest of the grocery store trip went along. He began to taunt me.
“I’m going to eat your donut. I’m going to eat your donut.”
By the time we got to the van he was waving my donut at me. Oh, no. You don’t tease about chocolate anything with me.
Then these words rang out and echoed across the parking lot: “DUDE. DUDE. DON’T YOU DARE EAT MY FRIGGIN’ DONUT!”
I think we may shop at another store for a week or two. Just in case. But truth be told, I doubt my teen will offer to go with me again for quite a while.
On the bright side, the other grocery store has a Starbucks in it! Oh, yeah, baby. Hop me up on caffeine FIRST and then let me loose. Great plans that can go terribly awry.
Posted by Jenn @
11:56 am | |
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The Question for the Masses
March 27, 2007
Question:
Do you think that the (and forgive me for this word, I don’t know a better replacement) blogosphere is overall a good place or overall a bad place?
I am serious here.
Is it a place where you can be yourself or a place where you better watch your back because someone can and will turn on you if they can?
Is it a place where you can make real friends or a place where you can talk to people who will forget you as soon as you don’t IM them after a week?
Is it a place where the people you do make friends with can sustain a friendship or is it a place where you can find out that the people you thought you knew you really don’t know at all as they are willing to dis you when given a chance?
Is it a place you feel free in or a place you feel stifled?
I really want to know what you think.
And if you feel that it is a good place, are you a blogger? If you blog, do you feel you owe anyone who asks that you defend your thoughts, actions or writings deserves an answer until they feel satisfied or do you feel that what you have written for years suffices as a testament to who you are?
Finally, are you willing to ignore it when you see a lynch mob forming online or do you jump in knowing you will be targeted next?
Like I asked when I started this:
Do you think that the (and forgive me for this word, I don’t know a better replacement) blogosphere is overall a good place or overall a bad place?
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Posted by Jenn @
12:48 am | |
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A few good men, a couple of fights and screaming for more!
December 2, 2006
I went on an AWESOME date tonight. It was hot.
There were lots of aggressive men. It included body slams, shoving and a bit of smack talking. There was screaming, cheering and a Boooo! now and then. We even had some rock music to accompany the action. And it went on much longer than we expected. I got so into it, I decided that medication, therapy or talking are not the ways for me to work things out. Nope. It is me, 12 men and some ice. That is where the real frustrations and irritations get worked out. It would have been the perfect date if only there were more fights. Two tiny skirmishes made it less aggressive than a half off sale at Nordstrom’s. Yet, it didn’t stop my screaming, cheering and carrying on.
Oh, yeah, baby. Next time I am having a time of it and feel a bit bitchy or frustrated, I am SO going to go take it out at a hockey game. You should remember that I am the woman who was screaming in labor…not because I was in pain (blessings to the gods of the epidural) but rather because I was watching hockey and was so into the game I didn’t realize I was yelling loud enough for the nurses the hear me. I was told I would always be remembered as the Mom who was more in pain by the bad hockey plays than the labor. (They didn’t even win. They tied!) All that just to say that hockey got me through labor then and through frustration today. I heart hockey.
I will admit, I was like a child at the game. I have loved hockey for years. Every time I had the chance to go to a Star’s game it fell through. This time…SCORE! Giggling and pointing and smacking Clint in the arm way too many times with comments like, “Ohmigod! It’s MIKE MODANO! I could probably even smell his sweat if I tried really hard!” or “Holy crap I can actually SEE Turco spit on the ice. That is so frickin’ cool, man!” Luckily, no one else could hear me. (Trust me, it was enough that poor Clint could.) Not to mention that no one could possibly hear me over the ridiculous, non-stop chattering of the frat-boys and their giggle girlfriends behind us. Every few minutes I would turn to Clint with a vicious glare on my face and spit out, “Seriously? Seriously!?”
Aside from that, it ROCKED! The game ended with a 3-3 score. What? Ahhh, overtime. Blessed overtime. The bonus you get awarded when you stay put and don’t leave early when your team is down. After overtime? STILL a tie. Which brings on a super special bonus of a SHOOT-OUT! Lord have mercy on my racing heart! I was screaming, shouting, cheering, hooting, hollering, and basically being loud and channeling all of my inner testosterone. The Dallas Stars beat the Minnesota Wild 4-3 in a wild game! (Pun totally intended.)
Beer. Hot-dogs. Hockey. Life is sooooo sweet!
Oh, yeah, baby…Clint is I am so getting lucky after such an awesome night of hockey fun!
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Posted by Jenn @
11:49 pm | |
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When going into battle, one must remember to accessorize
September 12, 2006
I was talking to Clint last night about why I simply had to go shopping. It wasn’t just that I wanted to go. I had to go. Being a man who is not so much into shopping, he questioned the need behind why I had to shop.
“Well, I just read an article (again!) on the Mommy Wars. Apparently I have been drafted. I am a Mom. I have mommyblogs. So, I have to go shopping.”
He totally was not seeing the connection.
“If you go into battle you have to have the right equipment and the right uniform. You can’t just march in looking like you came to battle unprepared. So, I am thinking some bitchin’ high heel boots that are just high enough to shout ‘Power boots!’ but not so high they shout ‘How much per hour?’ And of course that would mean a new pair of pants. I am thinking jeans, but they have to be the ones that make my butt look good. You know, studies show that a woman who knows her butt looks good is 96% more likely to be successful. Actually, I made that part up, but the pants, they must be able to make my butt look awesome. And you know that means that I have to have a new shirt. One that is comfortable, yet fashionable. Sexy, yet practical. I know the look I am going for but it may take time to find the right one. You know what this means, right?”
I am greeted with a blank stare.
“Honey, that means I have to accessorize. You can’t have a new outfit and not have the proper accessories. You can’t send me into battle without the right gear. This means a purse that can hold enough to defend myself ‘in the wars’, but not so big that I injure myself carrying it around. A few bracelets. Maybe a chunky necklace, too. And sunglasses. Sunglasses are a must to hide my eyes. The enemy–not that I really know who that is–must not be able to see my eyes.”
Shaking his head as if he is trying to get water out of his ears, he looks at me and says, “So you are at war? Who are you at war with?
“Oh, I have no idea, but the media and books and magazines tell me that there are Mommy Wars and apparently I am a part of it because I am a mommy.”
“That makes no sense, “ he tells me.
“Well, duh! I know it makes no sense. But I have been drafted and must be dressed for battle.”
“And that includes high healed boots?”
(Sometimes they just don’t get it!) “Yes, it means boots…and all the rest. I’m off to the mall to equip myself.”
“Honey, you work from home. Most days you stay in your pajamas all day.”
“Good point,” I ponder. “I better get new pajamas, too. A couple of pairs. Maybe new slippers. Thanks, sweetie.”
Off to battle. (Can someone just tell me that if there actually are mommywars…who exactly is the enemy here? You see, no mom I have spoken to is my enemy. I am confused, but I will be well dressed for battle either way.)
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Posted by Jenn @
3:24 pm | |
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I have a new baby!
August 30, 2006
There is a new baby in my house. Clint brought her home to me. Talk about shocked. I never in a million years expected it. He came home a week ago and told me he needed me to help him get something out of his car. I was oblivious to his game, so I hop up and go out to help. He hands me a box and tells me to carry it in because it is mine. Me? Still clueless just stare at the box.
Huh? What is it?
Clint tells me to look closer.
“It looks like a laptop box. What’s in it?” (I am so smart…S-M-R-T)
He just stares at me blankly. (As I AM so well known for being the queen of stupid questions.)
“Well, I hope it is the laptop I just got you.”
“Wha…? I mean….. Huh? You got a ….. It’s a….. The hell?” (I am also quite an eloquent speaker when I am stunned.) “What do you mean a laptop? What for? Who is it for? What? Huh?” All while I am hugging it to my chest in case he is telling the truth and then someone dares to take it from me.
I must’ve hugged that box for 15 minutes stating and restating the above. Finally, he asked if I was going to open it.
OHHHHH OPEN IT! It is more than a BOX! That is so cool.
Want to look at my new baby? Her name is Avery. She is so beautiful and fast and has a lot of space and is fast and is beautiful.
So, I can work and be blissful as I work. And, if I want to, I can even watch a DVD. AND I can lick her and rub my breasts on her and not be kicked out of Fry’s for doing that!
Want to know what else she can do? Do you? Do you? She can do this:
Oh, yes, people! I can play World of Warcraft on my freakin laptop. The world is sweet. Which means Aggroqueen, she can start kicking some blogging butt, baby! (Which, by the way, you are going over there to check it out, right? And you are leaving comments, right? And you still love me, right? I really don’t want to have to SHOW you why I chose the name AGGRO-queen, my friends. Okay, I am all talk. But really, I am lonely without you over there!)
I do so love Avery! Email me. Msg me. Game me. I want to play with her all day long and there is only so much “I am working” that I can do before I want to play, play, play!
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Posted by Jenn @
6:10 pm | |
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I fell in love to the tune of “Goodbye”
August 14, 2006
I admit it. I fell in love this summer. Blissful. Exciting. Lustful. Love. I had seen the object of my desire before but paid very little attention. I had seen the type before and was always let down. But not this time. This time I think the relationship will last. (At least until a new and improved version is introduced to me.)
I knew it was true love when I was riding in the shuttle bus (the little short shuttle bus) leaving dinner with fellow BlogHers. It was then that the horrific happened. I was bumped and spilled coffee on my brand new, never before worn white shirt. Silence came over me. And then I remembered. I reached into my purse and pulled out what was to become the new love of my life. My Tide to Go Stain Pen. I uncapped it and gave it a whirl. Oh, sure, you would think that someone who has a Tide Pen in her purse would have used it before. But no. I had in “just in case.” Because I do things like that.
I began to dab…rub….dab…rub…..The coffee stain was disappearing before my eyes.
(I should note here that the first time the commercial came on where Kelly Ripa is singing as she is rubbing out a stain on her husband’s shirt, both my husband and son looked at me and in unison said, “That is SO YOU!”)
Before I knew it, there I was falling in love with my Tide pen and singing “Na-na-nah-na, na-na-nah-na, hey, hey, hey, goodbye!” Then more voices joined in with me. “Na-na-nah-na, na-na-nah-na, hey, hey, hey, goodbye!!”
It was a thing of beauty. By the 5th verse and half the bus singing, the stain was gone.
And I had fallen in love.
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Posted by Jenn @
8:31 pm | |
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Celebrate good times…3 years!
July 4, 2006
Clint said there were fireworks planned. And parades. Celebrations all over town. He asked which one I wanted to attend.
“Well, shouldn’t I attend them all?” I replied
“Why would you do that?” he asked.
“Fireworks. Celebrations. Cook-outs. Parades. I mean, if they went to all that trouble to celebrate the 3rd anniversary of my blog, I should go!” I told him with glee and self importance.
“Dear (always with the dear when he is trying not to have me committed), it is NOT always about YOU.”
Silence
“Yes it is.”
Rolling is eyes, he replied, “Yes, all of America is celebrating the 3rd anniversary of you starting your blog. It has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that this is Independence Day or anything.”
“Awwww, aren’t they sweet!” I batted my eyes at him.
“You’re insane. I love you. But you are INSANE.”
So, Happy 3rd Birthday to my BLOG (a day late). And Happy 4th of July to everyone else!
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Posted by Jenn @
2:45 pm | |
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This is why being a “Jenn” rocks!
June 27, 2006
Have you seen these? That adorable little package to the left? Okay, here is a closer view. And I am taking all of the credit for them. I am Jenn. These were my cocktails. Okay, so maybe this Jenn may have something to say about it. But if we were like best friends and hung out together and braided each other’s hair at slumber parties, she would totally let me pretend that they were mine because we not only share the same name, but we would totally be BFF! In fact, I even gave them a place of honor in the adult beverage fridge. (Much to the dismay of the beer and wine.)
Are you going to BlogHer? If you are, I will totally hook you up because I am bringing an extra suitcase just to fill them with these. They are small enough that you can slip them right in your purse without anyone knowing. Not that I would know that. Because I totally wouldn’t know. Honest.
See? I told you that I would share some of the things I learned on vacation. This is one of those things. I learned that I make another Jenn makes some awesome (and so pretty) cocktails. What did you learn while I was away?
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Posted by Jenn @
9:27 pm | |
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Too bizarre a dream even for ME
April 28, 2006
As you have read, I have been under a lot of stress lately. A LOT. When this happens, I tend to have bizarre dreams. Freaky deaky ones. The thing with me, even though they are so unusual, I have to ask the next day or so if it actually happened. My husband is used to this and ignores me. I mean, how could one woman think that most of the things her mind creates is real. Take for instance this conversation with my husband this morning.
Me: I had really weird dreams the other night.
Him: And this is different how?
Me: I dunno. I mean, sometimes I know they are weird, but sometimes they are so real my mind begins to think of them as actually memories sometimes.
Him: Mmmmhmmmmm (such a noncommital answer!)
Me: Like take for instance that time I hit you really hard that morning because you said you were going out on a business dinner and ended up taking a hot exgirlfriend to the zoo and bought her all of those really expensive shitty souveniers that I want, but you always tell me no. Remember that? Because you really were out late that night and my mind got it jumbled and stuff.
Him: Yes, I remember your UNCALLED for arm frogging. So, what does that have to do with anything?
Me: Well, you know how Chelle (my sister for those of you just joining us) spent that entire week reading nothing but the gossip rags and trash papers? Remember how I always interrupted what you were doing to shout out a new star who was pregnant or who was cheating on who and the freakishly wacked out world of Hollywood?
Him: Is there a point to this?
Me: There is. I just…well, I just need clarification because something I think I read I might not really read because it is way out there and well, I want to ask you to see if you remember me shouting it out to you. Remember? You chose to be the SANE one in this relationship!
Him: I am SO afraid to ask this, but what is your question? (Then he actually physically flinched. Actually FLINCHED from my forthcoming words.)
Me: Okay I just need to know if I read it or dreamed it. Okay? No judgements.
Him: What it is you think you know but you are not sure but already *I* am sure it was a dream, but tell me anyway.
Me: Okay, well…it’s like this. I think but am not sure so I am totally not speaking from the truth and would never say anything bad about someone so ..well so hip and cool and shit, but did I tell you at some point that Andrew Shue has a blue penis? I mean, freaky and strange, but I have to know.
Him: You are serious, aren’t you? Tell me you are not serious. I mean it. Tell me that was a joke.
Me: *giggling nervously* Of COURSE it is a joke. I mean that is impossible! Completely! I adore him and would never believe it even if someone said that. Totally not true. Totally a joke. A JOKE. I mean, I support the man and his projects. ESPECIALLY that new one that I am so excited about. See? Me laughing! See?
Him: Therapy, Jenn. Therapy.
Me: I know. I know. Because truly, on ANYONE blue penises and bullocks would be too traumatic! Even for me.
Him: Do not blog this. Don’t Jenn. I mean it.
Me: Of course I won’t. I never missed an episode of Mel*rose Place. I love *Andrew. **Would never dream of blogging something so ludacris!
* Andrew, it was a dream. No hard feelings? I mean, Matthew McConaughey still loves me when I dreamed he stole me away to make me his love slave. And that whole debacle about George Clooney dressing like a woman dream? Totally not true and he still loves me.
** No one tell Clint that I blogged this, mmmkay?
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Posted by Jenn @
7:33 am | |
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Wal-Mart forgive me for I have misjudged thee
April 8, 2006
Yes, I am still here. The past two days were rough on me. Thursday was the 3 month anniversary of Mom’s death. Yesterday would’ve been the 14th birthday of our stillborn son, Jacob. Having those two back to back were kind of brutal mentally. (And I got vomited on as well.) So, I allowed myself a day to wallow in my self-pity, moan about poor me, complain about how everything sucks, then announce that I was going to cry and go to bed early and NO one will disagree with me. (In other words, I put the fear of Crazy Mom into the hearts of my family and they let me be.) But I am feeling much better now. Why? Because today I grabbed my car keys, my purse and my favorite CDs and told the family I would be back in a few hours.
What did I do? I am glad you asked. First I went to go see a movie. (Do you really think I can or would resist a movie with Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew McConaughey in it? Absolutely not. I owe Matt more than to ignore him on the big screen.) But this is not about them or the movie. This is about the Post Movie I Am All Alone High that led me to a place that terrifies me. A place that strikes fear into my heart and causes me to take anti-anxiety medication before going there. Oh, yes, after an hour of Matt, I lost my senses and went to…..Wal-Mart.
Let me tell you straight up, I hate Wal-Mart. Hate. Loathe. The aisles are too small. It feels like it is sucking the life out of me when I am there. I get mean. I get anxious. No matter how clean it is, I leave feeling dirty. I hate going there. I cannot recall a time where I have not left a Wal-Mart with verbally losing my cool with at least one dull-witted employee or feeling the intense need to beat the every loving snot out of at least one person. It brings out the very worst in me. However, when it comes to saving money, there are just some times I have to suck it up and go. ONLY during the week. On an off hour. But nooooo, I was all brave and ready to conquer the world Wal-Mart.
It is the “All New” Wal-Mart. Built to impress the Stepfords. The creme de la creme of Wal-Marts. Yes, I was skeptical. I was. I mean a Wal-Mart is a Wal-Mart is a hellish-torture-pit Wal-Mart.
I saw it as a good sign that I found a parking place right in the front. On a Saturday. (Impossible, people. Unheard of!) So far, so good. No twitching or anxiety yet. The outside looked huge, but surely it was a trick of the eye. Then I walked through the doors.
I stood a few feet into the store with my mouth agape and my eyes so wide they almost popped out of my head. There is NO WAY this is a Wal-Mart. People, let me just tell you about this place. H-U-G-E! Hard wood floors. To my immediate left was a section that overflowed with books. Aisles of books. And magazines. Bestsellers. New books. Lots of them. Like a mini-bookstore. I began to wander the store. (Did I mention the hardwood floors?) There was room in the aisles. I mean, I could dance if I wanted to. I had room to twirl and dance and get all jiggy with it if I wanted to. (I didn’t. But I could have.) I walked in a state of wonderment to the home decor area. I might have blacked out for a moment. I came to in a most bizarre place. Standing in front of a sushi bar. Yes, you did read that correctly. A sushi bar INSIDE a Wal-Mart. And it didn’t even look scary or like the fish came from discards at an old restaurant. If I liked sushi, I would’ve dropped to my knees right there and kissed the sushi case. But I don’t, so I didn’t. Oh, and right by the sushi bar was a beer and wine selection one would expect to find at a liquor store with 1,200 different varieties available! 1200! And it even has a computer that can tell shoppers which of the hundreds of wines go with which foods.
And they had….wait for it…a full service (with tables and Starbucks like atmosphere and coffee-shoppish snacks) COFFEE BAR. In WalMart. You could get a cappuccino or a latte and can sit inside the coffee shop in a big cozy chair and surf the Internet on the store’s Wi-Fi system. In a Wal-Mart.
And It had a spa. And nail salon. And a big photo studio without that crappy-ass backgrounds, but real professional looking ones. And an optometrist. And a hair salon that didn’t even look like a SuperCuts, but a real salon. In the electronics section, there’s an entire wall of the latest flat-screen TVs. And there just might have been a small house of worship, but I became too overwhelmed to look anymore. It was sooo good. I might have even had an orgasm or two just being in such a place.
I feared that if I did not buy something, the fates of Wal-Mart would curse me and make this place disappear, so I raced back to the back of the store and grabbed Dr. Pepper and wine. (No, not to consume together.) Oh, and of course a book. Must have a book. I thought that might be enough sacrifice to the gods of Wal-Mart.
I kid you not about this people. It was not post-good-movie bliss. This place exists. I just pray I don’t fall out of the wardrobe only to discover I was in Wal-Narnia with no way back in. That would crush me. But, I think I can find my way back. It is across the street from the full-size, always stocked Super Target. I have found the intersection of heaven itself. (Though, I fear that Clint will be installing a roadblock there to ensure I am unable to spend every cent we have on my two new meccas.) But fear not. I will return. You can’t keep me away from such an intersection as this. Oh no. It is my calling to go there. Often.
Wal-Mart, forgive me for I have misjudged thee.
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Posted by Jenn @
6:38 pm | |
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