Maggs goes vintage.

Maggs is rocking a vintage Nintendo t-shirt (circa 1987) , courtesy of a keepsake box rediscovered in my garage last weekend. She's accessorized her latest find with a wooden bead necklace and matching bracelet (not shown), which she made herself. Eat your hearts out.

Wherein I entreat you to point at me and laugh.

Inspired by Aunt Becky over at Mommy Wants Vodka, who proposed an Internet DUEL of embarrassing photographs, I am going to accept this challenge and treat you to some truly embarrassing photographs of me as a kid. Why? Because I enjoy humiliation. And just in case you were wondering, I also like to be spanked (just kidding, this isn't that kind of post). Truthfully, I am certain that my mother possesses pictures far worse than the ones that I've posted here - you know, the typical 1982 flashbacks of perms gone bad, sparkle headbands and Olivia Newton John inspired "Let's Get Physical" leg warmers. I promise to attempt to procure these photographs and share them in the not to distant future. But anyway, here's what I've got for today:

The year is 1983. I had just received some sort of award in swimming and my mom wanted to get a couple of snapshots of me in all my swimsuit glory to send to out-of-state relatives. It was winter in Wyoming (which means it was really cold) and my mom made me put on my swimsuit and pose for pictures before school, which I'm sure you can tell did not make me happy. Even at the tender age of 9, I was most definitely not a morning person. Truthfully I think my mom has another picture where I'm crying, and this one was taken after she threatened to beat me if I didn't stop. (Just kidding, mom! Love you! But there is one where I look even more unhappy, I'm certain of that).

Circa 1985. Here I am with my little brother, and I don't think I need to tell you that I thought I was the hotness with this haircut and my rockin' dangle earrings. Also, check out the pastel blouse/sweater vest combo. Oh yes, I believed this outfit to be the shit. Scroll down for a close-up.

"Come and get me, boys."

And now for the creme de la creme of today's embarrassing photos, me circa 1988. Oh yes, we have the quintessential ratted bangs, which no doubt required an entire bottle of Aqua Net to sculpt to perfection, and a badass attitude to boot. When this photograph was taken, a childhood friend from Wyoming was visiting for the summer and I remember rocking out to "Talk Dirty To Me" by Poison and watching The Lost Boys and Like Father Like Son marathons. Embarrassing confession: I used to have a crush on Kirk Cameron. I can't even believe that I'm admitting to that right now because that is just so nauseatingly GROSS! It kind of makes my stomach queasy. And oh how I wish now that I had never succumbed to the ratted bang trend. Remind me not to complain from now on when Maggs does that weird thing with her headband.

Well that does it for today. I hope that you've enjoyed this little trip down memory lane. I promise to look for more embarrassing childhood photographs for the express purpose of your amusement, because I'm more than willing to subject myself to humiliation for your pleasure. Aren't I nice like that?

Say hello to my little friend...

Everyone knows that I'm a bad-ass. And a mom. That said, I would like you to say hello to my little friend, Nintendo DS. Yes, Nintendo DS is what I like to refer to as "Mommy's Little Helper." Perhaps at this point you are thinking, " Pshaw! Video games rot the brain! Good parenting? I think not!" To which I would respond that you are a fool - a fool I say!, and attempt to persuade you to listen to what Nintendo DS might have to offer your family.

1) Video games may or may not rot the brain - that remains to be seen in the EW household. But I will tell you this: Nintendo DS makes my son do his homework. Mostly because I say this, "If you don't do your homework now, I will take away your Nintendo DS." Works like a charm every time. *Note: Feel free to apply this formula to bedtime, teeth brushing, you name it. Get creative! Nintendo DS will not fail you.
2) Nintendo DS also functions as a magic wand of sorts. When I wave Nintendo DS suggestively at my son before school, he understands this to mean that if he gets in the car ASAP without whining, crying, or refusing to go to school that day, he will be allowed to play a quick round of Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Winter Games en route to school. Voila! Peaceful mornings abound!
3) Nintendo DS allows one to at least entertain the thought of embarking on a family vacation (not for the weak of heart, mind you). Five hour plane ride back East? No problemo. Nintendo DS is the solution to your problems. *Note: Okay, I'm not gonna lie. A situation such as this may require the assistance of yet another of Mommy's Little Helpers, and no I don't mean alcohol (this time). I'm referring to the ever-trusty portable DVD player.

Until recently, Nintendo DS had been used exclusively as a parenting tactic for my son. But to both our surprise and delight, Carl and I realized just weeks before Christmas that Maggs had recently developed an interest in the Nintendo DS as well. Lo and behold, Santa surprised Maggie with her very own pink "in-tendo DS" (as she calls it) on Christmas morning!

Like mother, like daughter.

Which brings me to my favorite reason of all for being a proponent of the Nintendo DS.

4. While these handheld devices may serve as "little friends" that help my day run smoother by functioning as a means of occasional bribery (let's just call it what it is), they make my kids act like friends to each other, which is perhaps the greatest gift of all.

One of the main reasons Carl and I thought that Maggs would enjoy a Nintendo DS of her own is that the kids can sync their machines so that they can play games together, which they think is the bee's knees. And I'll admit, nothing gives me greater pleasure (other than jarred cheese sauce, Tivo, and 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep) than hearing my kids laughing and having fun together. It's just the best sound in the world. So if you haven't already, I highly recommend that you do yourself a favor and hightail it to your nearest Best Buy or Toys R US or wherever, and purchase a Nintendo DS of your own today. Trust me, you won't regret it.

Just another day here at the Cleaver house...

I present you with two scenarios, typical of daily life here in the very Cleaver-esque EW household (would you expect anything less?):

First scenario: The kids have been non-stop bickering all day. This bickering escalates considerably when I demand gently suggest with kisses and hugs and promises of cookies and pony rides that the children clean up their playroom. I mistakenly tell them to do this together. When they initially refuse, I threaten to sell them to a band of gypsies remind them that Ward will give them a talking to if he sees that their playroom is a shit hole in disarray. Eventually they comply because they don't want to lose their videogames hate to disappoint us. (*Note: I suppose June would happily tidy the toy room herself, all while keeping her coif neatly in place and her dress maintaining the appearance of being freshly pressed. Fuck you, June. I am sick to death of bending over 10,000 times a day to clean up legos that, when they're not painfully embedded in the heel of my foot, are so small they're nearly impossible to detect with the naked eye).

But if only it were that easy. Eventually, exasperated and sick of hearing exchanges such as "You're just a poo poo diaper baby." "No YOU'RE the poo poo diaper baby." "Mom! Maggie called me a poo poo diaper baby!" I repress the urge to scream "You're BOTH poo poo diaper babies!" and instead inform them both that they're no longer allowed to speak to each other ANYMORE. For the rest of their lives. To which Wally and the Beav respond with enthusiastic cheers of, "YAY!" while doing a sort of jig around the playroom. I should have seen that one coming.

Second scenario: The weekend. It's bedtime and the kids are having a camp-out style sleep-over in my room. As usual, they have refused to eat dinner, therefore their bedtime snack is restricted to fruit and dry cereal such as Cheerios. Maggie approaches me to ask for popcorn and cookies, a request which needless to say I deny. She informs me that her brother told her to demand that I provide them with popcorn and cookies and that if I refuse, to hit me. She relays this information to me with a look that clearly says that she understands that this is not advisable. At that point it becomes clear to me that Bear is pulling an "Eddie Haskell" by setting his sister up for his own amusement, and I imagine him in my bedroom suppressing snorts and giggles with his ear to my door in an attempt to eavesdrop on our exchange. I mean, who would want to miss out on that shit storm? "Dance, puppet, dance!" I imagine him thinking as Maggie set out on her mission. For him I guess it's a win-win situation. Either she comes back with cookies and popcorn, or he gets to see what happens when his baby sister tries to put the screws to their mother. Good times all around. Of course, Ward and I did give him a talking to.

I'll actually take these Stepford Children because they seem to be eating whatever it is that's on their plates without whining, crying, gagging, or lying prostrate on the floor.

Yeah, "Happy Birthday To Me" ya jerk off.

What he's really saying: "Hey, thanks a lot asshole! Happy fucking birthday to me."

Monday was Bear's first day back at school after winter break. When I was taking his homework out of his backpack last night I found this message from Mickey. At this point I should be honest and tell you that we were completely unaware that it was Mickey's birthday in November so we did not write, call, or send a gift. My apologies Mickey. I will be sure to put your birthday on the calendar for next year.

Is it just me or does this seem passive-aggressive? I had to do a double take to make sure that Mickey wasn't flipping the bird. Carl thinks that I'm crazy as usual and that this message from Mickey is innocent enough. To which I responded that perhaps my perception has been clouded by too much time around our families over the holidays. Just sayin'.

Stop the Insanity!

Remember Susan Powter? The creepy motivational speaker, dietitian and personal trainer who rose to fame in the 90s with her catch phrase “Stop the Insanity!” Maybe you're wondering why the hell I would mention that annoying bitch when you have tried so hard to block her from your collective memories. No I have not decided to single-handedly resurrected Susan Powter from the annals of 90's pop culture. Lately I just haven't been able to get the catch-phrase "Stop the Insanity" out of my head in reference to my current diet and exercise routines (alright, who are we kidding. There is absolutely NO exercise happening here lately. The size of my ass can certainly testify to that).

All good things must come to an end - well that is if you think that ingesting mass quantities of potato chips smothered in that jarred Tostitos Nacho Cheese Dip substance is a good thing. I do. Or did that is, because just the thought of it makes me want to vomit now. Now that probably is a good thing. Man did I get off track in the month of December. I replaced a diet that consisted of mostly vegetables with one that currently consists of virtually NO vegetables (unless we're including potato chips as a vegetable. No? I didn't think so).

Here are some signs that I must Stop the Insanity right this instant:

1. Carl seemed shocked and maybe a wee bit horrified when I told him that I had eaten three jars of that Tostitos processed cheese dip substance over the course of one week. And this is the same person who eats scrapple. Wow. This may be the ultimate wake up call. Oh my God, I just read the jar and it says that 1 serving of this substance is 2 tbsp, and there are 13 servings per jar. A jar lasts me on average two days. So I'm eating around 6 or so servings of cheese substance a day. This is indeed alarming.

2. Just now Carl called me from the store to let me know that the large carton of Haagen-Dazs is unavailable. He seemed to think that this would be an issue for me because he kept repeating that the LARGE carton is unavailable and that they only have the 16 ounce carton in stock are you SURE that this will be okay?! I repeat THE LARGE CARTON IS UNAVAILABLE!!! I'm like, okay dude, I get it. It's fine. I mean, is this the last opportunity that I will have in my lifetime to purchase Haagen-Dazs? Does he actually think that I would want to eat more than 16 oz of vanilla ice cream in one sitting? (Okay you got me there. I actually have done that, but not since I was pregnant). Anyway, my point being that when he called me from the store he seemed kind of panicked and like I might bitch slap him if he didn't come home with the 32 ouncer.* Maybe this is a sign that I need to re-evaluate my relationship with Haagen-Dazs.

3. I noticed a perceptible jiggle to my arse when shopping at the supermarket in sweats yesterday for more cheese substance and potato chips. And Pepsi. One mustn't ever forget the Pepsi. (I was wearing a pair of really nasty Old Navy sweats with Uggs by the way, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the automated doors when entering the grocery store and this is so NOT a good look for me).

4. Carl's muscles feel stiff and sore from starting his new work-out routine. Mine feel stiff and sore from not moving from either the computer or our Lazy Boy recliner where I gorge myself with ice cream, potato chips and cheese substance while watching marathons of Snapped, and the television equivalent to jarred cheese substance, Jersey Shore.

5. My hair and skin feel all greasy because my body is no longer 65% water, it's now 65% jarred cheese substance.

Upon reading this, you will no doubt agree that the time has indeed come to Stop the Insanity. I'll keep you posted about my progress.

*Carl's fears may have been justified: Haagen-Dazs changed their 16 ounce container to 14 ounces? WTF?!

Update: A little while ago when it came up in conversation, Carl asked me if I was still watching Jersey Shore. When I reluctantly confessed that I did watch this week's episode, he said "Oh, honey!" in a way that suggested that he's disappointed in me as a human being. And I can't really say that I blame him.

I'm feelin' a little bloggy.

I am so excited to have received the Lemonade Stand Award from Naomi at one of my favorite blogs Organic Motherhood with Cool Whip! Thank you so much, Naomi - I'm beyond flattered (blushing).

Receiving any sort of blog award kind of blows my mind because until recently I think I had maybe two or three readers. Maybe. And one of them is my mother. I think she's pretty much required by some sort of maternal law to gush shamelessly about how much she just loves my writing. She also thinks that I look good without make-up and that I have a beautiful singing voice (trust me when I say that neither of these things is even remotely true).

When I originally decided to start a blog, my main objective was simply to discipline myself into writing on some sort of semi-regular basis. I've always really enjoyed writing, and after leaving academia to become a mother, I truly missed the creative outlet that writing affords. Moreover, I realized that instead of bombarding friends and family with lengthy emails concerning the mundane details of my day to day life as a wife and mom, I could pour it all into a blog instead, and then they could either choose to read it or not. The funny thing is, I really never expected to become so addicted to this blogging business, or to enjoy the social interaction and friendship that exists within the blogging world as much as I now do. I only wish that I had more time to partake of my favorite hobby. I would like to give a big thank you to everyone that has taken the time to post comments on my blog. I still can't believe anyone that isn't a blood relative or a life-long friend has actually taken the time out of their day to read the (more often than not) random crap that I post. You're all awesome.

Here are the rules for the Lemonade Stand Award as I understand them. After receiving the award, I must:

- Put the Lemonade logo on my blog or within my post.
- Nominate at least 10 blogs with great attitude or gratitude.
- Link to the nominees within my post.
- Let the nominees know they have received this award by commenting on their blog.
- Share the love and link to the person from whom you received this award.

There are so many great blogs out there, it's difficult to choose. Here are a few that I really dig:
Organic Motherhood with Cool Whip (right back at ya) ;)
Girl in the Room
Speaking from the Crib
Mommy Words
Stir Fry Awesomeness
If Evolution Really Works...
Martinis or Diaper-Genies?
A Life More Exciting
Zen and the Art of Motherhood
Theta Mom
Flux Capacitor
Bon Bon Rose
Diary of a Mad Bathroom
Kerry Character's Blog
Mommy Wants Vodka
Let's Have a Cocktail...

One of the nicest surprises that I had in 2009 is how much I have come to enjoy the community of the blogging world (I know I already said that, but I really mean it). You guys rock! Every morning I look forward to sitting down to read your fabulous blogs over a cup of coffee. Happy blogging to everyone in the new year!