So, I got out this morning and voted with no problems whatsoever.  No huge queues or anything!  I expected the so called voter fraud left, right and center, but nah, nothing!  The worst that happened was an old lady in a wheelchair almost mowed over the little munchkin as we were exiting and she was entering.  And, also when I asked for an “I VOTED” sticker for my boys, I was told that they were no longer permitted to hand out more than one to each voter! 

WTF? 

Anyway, I forgot to go and get my free coffee at Starbucks or my free ice cream scoop at Ben and Jerry’s afterwards!   Hmm, maybe the voter staff were under strict orders from them to not hand out more than one sticker?

Oh well! 

I now anxiously await the election results and can’t wait for tonight’s Indecision ’08 with Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert! 

How about you?  How was your day?

My heart dropped in to my stomach and I suddenly felt ill.  The little munchkin was fast asleep and I had expected the boys to walk in the door within five minutes, joking or arguing with each other as they usually do.

Still on the phone, I ran to the front door to take a look outside in the hopes that he had left on his own and would be biking round the corner any minute.  I asked my oldest son if his brother’s bike was still there and when he told me it was I felt even sicker.  The assistant principal of the school got on the phone with me and told me that they didn’t want to alarm me, but they were doing a lock down and a door to door check of the school.  Apparently, they had paged his name several times to which they he had not answered.   I told her I was on my way to the school and would be there in a few minutes. 

Fighting back the tears and fears, I stated to load up the still slumbering munchkin in to his car seat when the phone rang again.  I could hear it in the house, so I ran back in for it.  Seeing it was the school’s number, I took a deep breath and answered.  It was the assistant principal again.  She immediately told me they had found my middle son.  He had simply forgotten he was biking home and had not heard his name called throughout the school.  Blissfully unaware of the pandemonium he had caused, he had been chatting and running around the pick up area with his best friend. 

When he walked through the door fifteen minutes later with tears in his eyes, I honestly didn’t know whether I should laugh or cry, scold or hug.  I knew the assistant principal had lectured him already so I did what every mother would do in my place and folded him in to the biggest hug possible. 

Now, I make sure to write in his planner exactly how he is getting home.  Mummy doesn’t want any more frights like the day the school “lost” one of my sons!  And, on the positive side, I was so proud of how my oldest son handled the situtation and how protective he was of his younger brother.

No more “aye, aye Cap’n” jokes from the peanut gallery please!

In all honesty, I thought I could feel the start of one coming yesterday, but I decided to ignore it and slapped my make up on and put my contact lenses in anyway.  What an idiot, right?  It’s been a while since I’ve had one, but I do remember that you are not supposed to either of those.

I was able to navigate my way to my trusty old latop and fire her up to do what every good 21st century patient does these days and google what the best treatment is for a sty.  According to eMedicineHealth.com, I should be applying hot compresses a couple of times a day and that should do the trick.  I did get a fright when I ventured further and read that it’s not necessary to see a doctor unless:

• Your eye is swollen shut. 

What?  Huh? 

• Or your eyelashes fall out. 

Oh my god?  What the heck am I dealing with here?

• You have any change or disturbance in your vision.

Well, that happens quite often with too much alcoholic intake, but I don’t think that’s what they mean is it?

I had no idea a sty could be quite so serious.  Hopefully, it will disappear as quickly as it’s arrived and I can be my usual glam self, but until then it’s specs and no make up all the way because I want this baby G-O-N-E!  Off to get some hot compresses.  If you have any true and tested cures for a nasty sty, please feel free to share.

I had to make my first call to Poison Control in years! 

The little munchkin decided to play with his new Aveeno Baby Lavender & Vanilla Calming Comfort Wash that I left on the kitchen counter after we returned from purchasing it on our weekly trip to the grocery store.  Yes, I know.  I’m scolding myself now.  I should have put it away in his bathroom immediately after returning from said shopping trip, but I was too lazy to go up the stairs.  I thought it was out of his reach. 

And, so off I went to vacuum the stairs.  Ironic, huh?

Then, the munchkin comes running up to me pointing to his mouth and saying yucky.  I thought he was simply doing an impression of an elephant as we had been doing that earlier, so for a minute there I was I making elephant noises back and nodding my head enthusiastically.  The poor thing laughed, but then got mad and said yucky more clearly.   At this point, I could smell the lavender on him and then it dawned on me what he must have done. 

I immediately swiped out his mouth with a wet cloth making sure to get all traces of it out of his mouth and offered him some milk to drink.  He drank some, but really wanted only water.  He had some cheerios out from earlier and proceeded to tuck in to those.  Looking at the bottle, it didn’t look like he had got any more than a drop in his mouth, but I decided to play it safe and call Poison Control anyway.  The lady was very nice and told me that I did all the right things and that he should be fine. 

Should be? 

I didn’t like the sound of that till she told me that she said it because he may have some stomach upset over the course of the day.  Thankfully, he did not.

I usually just buy the regular Aveeno Baby Wash, but decided to go ahead and try this Lavender & Vanilla Calming Comfort Wash  as I thought it might help relax him at night and then he might just possibly sleep through a whole night.  It’s worked only once! Typical!

I have been observing a new phenomenon that is sweeping our nation and infiltrating playgrounds and morning coffee klatsches alike. 

A phenomenon I’d like to term “SAHM, Interrupted.” 

Now, the definition of “SAHM, Interrupted” is double entendre.  There is the SAHM whose blissful homemaker existence has been interrupted because she is forced to return to the workforce to supplement the family income.  Maybe, the frequency of her spouse’s bonuses are down or there is rumor of a possible redundancy looming.

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the percentage of the workforce made up by females will increase from 46 percent in 1998 to 48 percent in 2008; 21 million women are expected to enter the labor force by 2008.  I personally believe this figure will be considerbly higher as I know very few SAHMs who are not considering returning to the job force.  No longer can many SAHMs afford the luxury of being a one income household with the rising costs of well,  . . . EVERYTHING.  I mean what food has not increased over the past couple of years, not to mention the price of gas?  So, hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work those SAHMs go!

Or, there is the SAHM that has been dealt no other choice, but to be stuck at home.  She must tighten the apron stings as she can no longer attend playgroups or outings which require a full tank of gas to get there.  An afternoon spent at the mall is avoided at all costs unless shopping for something specific.  And, she must forget about all those Mommy and Me classes because in this economy, if you want to be a SAHM, they are out of the question! 

There is no denying that both definitions of “SAHM, Interrupted” are directly related to our sluggish economy and rising cost of living.  Which ever way you look at it, the blissful life of the SAHM has been forever changed and interrupted.   No longer is every day “casual Friday” nor can homecooked meals for the family be simmered on the stove for hours on end whilst we watch afternoon soap operas and eat bon bons.   All kidding aside, one can’t afford to spend money on the ingredients to make said homecooked meals let alone spend the time if going back to work.

How many happy homemakers’ lives do you know that have been interrupted?  As one myself, I can’t wait for our economy to pick up again so I can return to my blissful SAHM existence!

Nice idea, right? 

It was until they all got attacked by a swarm of mosquitoes and ran off forgetting about the little munchkin who traipsed right into their path.  Apparently, Logan had stood there shaking his finger and telling everyone off instead of running after his big brothers and daddy.  Obviously, my idiot of a DH ran back for him seconds later, but alas it was too late.  Said mosquitoes had feasted on my poor defenceless baby and left countless bites on him.

He was up all night scratching and crying from them.  Poor baby!

We did have a nice get together on Sunday to finally celebrate my birthday and Grandparent’s Day.  Yummy food, great conversations and some dancing in the kitchen!!!  Good times!  Although, the boys swear they saw and ran from a snake in the dried up lake behind my mum’s house.  I guess they didn’t get enough of exploring earlier in the day, did they?

The other day when I was at the grocery store, it dawned on me as I looked over the contents of my shopping cart.  I’m not as green and crunchy as I used to be. 

There was once a day when I would walk proudly around my local grocery store with a cart bursting at the seams with the healthiest foods and products.  I’m sure those around me had shopping cart envy as my weekly shop would behold a plethora of organic goods.  Yes, people would gasp at the contents of it — I even had little old ladies stop me and tell me what a wonderful mother I was to feed her children such healthy items.  And, I have to admit that I would smugly walk by those mothers pushing shopping carts laden with not so healthy items and thank the stars that my kids would eat well.

How naive was I to think that wouldn’t bite me in the arse one day! 

Then I had my youngest son.

Look up “fussy eater” in any parenting book and next to the definition, you will find his name!  He seems to only want the familiarity of those foods that he knows and likes and just refuses to try anything new.  Now, according to Dr. Sears’ website, being a picky eater is part of what it means to be a toddler and as a parent, you should aim for a nutritionally-balanced week, not a balanced day.  One of his suggestions to get your child to eat their vegetables is to try growing them yourself.  Me?  Plant a garden?  Hmmmm, that might just work.  The National Garden Association reported this year that consumer spending on vegetable gardens is up 25 percent from two years ago which means it is growing in popularity.  With the rising costs of organic vegetables in our stores, it is definitely a way to get cheap, healthy food.

Now it is I that wanders the grocery store aisles with shopping cart envy, staring longingly at those carts laden with healthy produce and foods.  I am the one that gets the mixed, pitiful stares in the check out aisle as fellow shoppers glance at the new contents of my shopping cart . . . organic fruits and vegetables, organic 5 spouted bread, wholewheat pasta, chocolate pudding, ketchup and chicken nuggets?  Huh?   

And, I keep buying these items fearful that the child will starve.

So, can I still I be all green and crunchy when all my toddler wants to eat are chicken nuggets dipped in (organic) tomato sauce?

“Honey,” I told him.  “It’s not my birthday till next week.”

“I know,” he replied.  “I’m practicing for it.”

Awwwwww, how sweet, I thought to myself.  It’s no big secret that the guy wants to be a gourmet chef when he grows up so my mind got to wandering about just what exactly he was going to make me.  Exhausted (DH had decided he wanted to spoon and cuddle at 5 a.m. — grrrrrrrrr), I dragged myself out of bed and headed down the stairs to see what concoction was awaiting me. 

It was so sweet!  How I wish I’d taken a picture of it, but instead I’ll do my best to describe it.  He had laid out the table and there was a cup of coffee made strongly just how I like it, 2 pieces of whole wheat toast and a scrambled egg that he had whipped up and cooked in the microwave.  After getting the little one some cheerios, I was finally able to sit down and enjoy said breakfast when out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of a piece of aluminum (aluminium or tin foil as we say it in the UK) foil.

“What’s that out for, son?”  I asked the junior chef.

“Oh, I used it to cover the egg.” he answered nonchalantly.

My fork stopped mid-mouth as I slowly asked if he had put said foil in the microwave. 

“You. Did. What?”  came out of my mouth.

The realisation of what had happened swept over me and I calmly explained that metal was never to go in to a microwave oven,  Ever.

“Were you trying to do a science experiment?”

“Well, I know you never put a C.D. in the microwave, but I didn’t know about foil.”

Oh my!  We tasted the egg and found that it had a decidely metal taste to it.  I think he’s learned a valuable lesson that will only help him to be a better chef, right?  Breakfast was wonderful and moreover, the thought behind my breakfast was wonderful.  

But, now I have to worry about using my microwave.  Anybody have any idea of what may happen if I try and heat the munchkin’s chicken nuggets in it come lunch time?  Dare I?  Will it explode on me?  I don’t think metal and microwave ovens mix, do they?

Somehow we got on to the subject of MILFs.  Yes, my hubby called ME a MILF!  Hah!  Then, we started to make up our own decidedly naughty if not just a little crude acronyms!  I decided it might make good x-rated blog material (if I dared) and proceeded to jot them down on a post-it note to take home. 

Except, at the end of the day I couldn’t find said post-it note. 

OMG!! 

It can’t be!

What if some poor unsuspecting person happens upon it, I thought?  I searched frantically.  High and low, but to no avail.  Then I decided to forgetta ’bout it!  Who would really care?  After the weekend I had, they could stuff themselves.  If it’s found, I’ll simply feign ignorance or plead the 5th.

They were really funny by the way.  Wish I could remember them all — there was MIAF, but that’s about all this momma brain can recollect.  It’s probably best left to your imagination anyway!

I had the most amazing idea come to me this morning when I was pounding away on my elliptical machine.  Wait for it.  It’s really that good so read slowly to get your head around it.

What if . . . I could invent a contraption that straps on to a piece of exercise equipment like said elliptical machine or a treadmill that would hold a laptop securely in place so that you could surf the net or even blog whilst getting your workout?

I thought to myself, Karen, you amazing woman, you!  Wow, you’ve really outdone yourself this time!  What an outstanding idea. All those running, blogging mamas would love me for this invention, right?  I then immediately visualized tag lines for my product:

You can finish that run and THAT report!

Work your legs and your finger tips!

I caught carried away even more with my imagination and saw myself living a champagne and caviar(ewwww, can’t stand the stuff) fruit jet set lifestyle because my idea would obviously make me richer than I could ever imagine and continued to give myself kudos and congratulatory speeches!

Now, ideas for new innovative products come to me all the time.  And, then I find out that somebody already beat me to the punch.  That my idea is available in the stores or an infomercial.  Or even on line.

http://www.thenetrunner.com/

Barstewards beat me to it again!