Sexy Monogramming

In order to semi-spruce up the downstairs bathroom, I ordered two monogrammed hand towels each with a fancy black "P" (the first letter of our last name) on them, in case there was any doubt as to who would be cleaning up after the guest peed.

I hung them over the toilet in all their starched glory. I turned and walked back in to see the effect from a first-timers perspective expecting to be blown away by the subtle class of monogrammed towels.

It was then I saw the error: P P

Even my 2 year old didn't miss the humor in that.

Sexy Leash

After yesterday's post, my friend Matt suggested that I put Baby Boy on a leash so he can't dash off while I am peeing.

I used to mock those who would drag their kids through the Mall on leashes. That, however, was before I was a mom. Now it only comes down to what color I should buy and if I can get a matching one for the dog.

We are flying for a vacation next month and I can't say I haven't pictured tying BB up by the luggage so Darling Husband and I can enjoy a peaceful vodka tonic before the flight.

Sexy Stall

There is always that awkwardness of taking toddlers into a public bathroom with you--there is really no easy way to accomplish this task. But outside of peeing in empty Dunkin Donut cups in the car, sometimes there is no choice.

Taking them into handicap stall makes the most sense because they have room to stand and stare at you while you A) make the toilet paper nest upon which to perch or B) attempt the quad-strengthening squat- and-pee.

Of course by this time they have lost all interest in your project and have A) crawled into the stall next to you (no doubt an unwelcome surprise for the neighboring stranger) as you try to grab their clothing or hair and end up peeing all over your shoes and purse OR B) what Baby Boy did today: as I was doing the thing that we do once a month, BB had flicked open the latch on the door exposing my plie-insertion stance to the line of people.

Thankfully, a understanding lady zoomed into action and held the door shut as I finished. Meanwhile BB had managed to drench himself by the automatic sinks.

Is there any question as to why I rarely leave the house?

Sexy Salsa Vom

Ok there is nothing sexy about vomit. At all. I hate it. But we had guests up skiing for the weekend and one of the boys spent the day eating--I kid you not--two bagels and butter, a pizza, bacon, an entire bag of Blue Chips and jar of salsa, a 1-lb bag of Easter colored peanut butter M and M's, 2 hot dogs, 3 hamburgers, 1/2 of a loaf of garlic bread and lasagna. And that is just what I witnessed.

Any guesses how the night turned?

It brought me back to a night when I was 10 and my friend's mom brought us to the movies. I cannot recall the movie, but I spent the night curled up in the fetal position in their clawfoot bathtub shaking with sugar withdrawals.

I guess an occasional binge and following aftershock is a right of passage as a kid--carpet cleaning bills notwithstanding.

Sexy Polygamy--maybe?

I am being a sloth on this Friday and catching up on back issues of National Geographic--so technically I guess that is the most intellectual type of slothing...

The cover story in the current issue is an investigative report on the FLDS ranch in Colorado City. Despite my judgement for all the "godly" reasoning they have for "sealing" themselves to several (albeit underage) wives, I am thinking the idea of polygamy may not be a bad idea.

I could use a wife to do all the cleaning and landscaping, another for the food shopping and preparations, the hot toddy wife for the nights I feel fat or "have a headache," one for being pregnant (as we know that isn't my thing), and one whose only job is comic relief and rubbing my feet (what Darling Husband used to do).

Basically what rich people pay servants for but this is better because I automatically increase my wardrobe by 5--I missed out on all those shoes not having sisters.

With a new group of wives I can focus on being a mom without all the excess shit that gets in the way.

Of course to balance it out, I am going to kidnap Tom Brady for an extra husband--I don't think Darling Husband would get too mad about that...

Un-Sexy Snack

Wanting to make Darling Husband a lovely dinner, I stopped with Baby Boy at the local gourmet shop to grab a bottle of wine (another reason every store needs a drive-thru. These 4 minute errands end up taking 35 minutes with toddler in tow).

To distract the kiddo, I gave him a container of yogurt covered pretzels while I compared two bottles of Spanish red. Within seconds not only had he disassembled the iron-clad package but had vanished.

At this point I am waiting to hear the SMASH signaling I now own hundreds of dollars of broken wine but it is silent, which mothers of toddlers know is often a worse sign.

I creep through the aisles trying to find him. I see his little form hunched over something on the floor. He is unawares of my presence. I pounce.

He is hovered over a drooly, wet, nasty pile of half-masticated yogurt pretzels, apparently decided that he hates the yogurt part, and is trying to pick out the un-chewed pretzel part.

Horrified, I grabbed him and we fled. I guess Darling Husband will have to be happy with water with his (fake meat) pot roast.

Sexy Reminder

I love seeing musicians in small venues mostly because they tend to reveal the secrets behind their songs. Many people don’t like having the curtain pulled back from the wizard, but the story behind an artist’s Why is often more fascinating the actual product.

We saw the lovely Dar Williams perform over the weekend. She introduced my favorite, “The One Who Knows,” saying it was written after spending time with a friend and her two children. She added that to this day it surprises her that she had created it before she herself had children seeing that she had captured so accurately what she now felt as a mother.

Before I had Baby Boy, I interpreted 99% of songs to be about romantic love, obvious odes to pick up trucks notwithstanding. Now hearing this anew from a mother’s point of view, it had me in tears as no song has done before.

This is the chorus that ran through my head all weekend:

“You’ll fly away, but take my hand until that day. So when they ask how far love goes, when my job’s done you’ll be the one who knows.”

Is that not just so beautiful?

What those words awoke in me is that despite all the stress and struggle that raising children can be, it is such a short amount of time that we have them beside us. It is easy to shuffle through the days letting the laundry and homework and diapers and crumbs outshine the gorgeous light that surrounds our children. If we ignore this light though, it is going to vanish. (Long before they make us drop them off two blocks from school so we don’t embarrass them.)

I see too many parents resigned to the fact that their kids “are brats” and they complain about them and all the work and live an endless sigh.

So this is my love letter of sorts to the slices of precious time amidst the rigamarole; you know, the real reason we had children in the first place.

Parenthood is living for the moments in between...

Feeling the excitement in your changing world

in between guessing for a boy or a girl.

The adoration you feel upon first seeing their face

in between wishing the house had more space.

A full body snuggle with a soft and sweet kiss

in between making piles of lists.

Having a charged camera right at your side

in between moments you’ve sadly let slide.

Reaching out to stable the shaky first step

in between the falls where both of you wept.

His actually eating a few bites of food

in between throwing it, “Honey, that’s rude!”

Her using good manners at a play date

in between your being constantly late.

The first time baby correctly calls, “Mum!”

In between using the dog as a drum.

The most melodic giggles galore

in between mountains of toys on the floor.

The pride that comes with sharing their dreams

in between working through struggles and screams.

Wrapped in a blanket under the moon

in between locking themselves in their room.

Keeping faith that their souls are true

in between the phase of “Dad, I hate you!”

Watching them dress for their very first date

in between their coming home way too late.

The years in between birth and eighteen

it went by so fast, like clouds in a dream.

Sending them off into the world on their own

in between heartbreak at your baby birds flown.

In between the longing and sadness and fears

knowing you’ll love them for ten thousand years.

Un-Sexy Scare of the Day

Since we live in the middle of nowhere, I spend 60% of my day imagining "today will be the day the murderers and rapists pick my house to attack." In this macabre fantasy, I envision how I will get Baby Boy to safety while finding the one spot in the dining room where the cell phone actually works before my grim demise.

It never ends well.

Today, I was in the kitchen in my bra (leopard for all you FB bra color-posters) and out of the kitchen window I see eyes from a black sweatshirt staring at me. Heaven knows where the adrenaline rush came from but in seconds I had Baby Boy thrust into the pantry (the low-shelved cookies kept him quiet) while I wielded a serrated bread knife at the gaping attacker.

It was all very Mr. and Mrs. Smith--without the Brad Pitt and fabulous breasts part.

Unfortunately, I don't think Webber Oil will be delivering to us again anytime soon.

At least we pay our bills on time and the stunned delivery man got to see my fabulous new bra.

Sexy Room Service

Two weeks ago we stayed at a hotel (the same one with the "Please DO NOT use the pool if you have diarrhea" sign) and ate room service for almost every meal.

My son, previously, had the eating habits of a North Hampton vegan (mostly by his choice). Yet after a weekend of mini-pancakes, chicken fingers and giant cookies served on silver platters covered with dome lids he has become the eater I hear moms bemoan in the aisles as they try to cohearse their kids to believe Annie's organic all-natural gummy bunnies are THE EXACT SAME as Fruit Roll Ups.

Since I refused to let him eat piles of sugar for breakfast back at home I reverted to yogurt, fruit and the like. After two days of watching nature's bounty hurled across the floor (and quickly into the dog's mouth), I figured he will eat when he was hungry and ignored the firestorms.

It is amazing at how long a toddler can fast when they want to.

Today at the store I broke down and bought Van's mini-waffles (I still refuse to buy anything with Elmo or whatever fuzzy character they assume sells meals). He was happy until he realized it didn't come under a shiny, round lid.

I won't give in to this. Really....I....won...anyone know a website for room service equipment??

HOLLA to the Sexy Followers

I just want to thank my followers here and on Facebook--it means so much to me! Tell your friends so I don't get sent straight to DVD. lol

Sexy Snuggles

I was so touched that my usually un-snuggly Baby Boy was crawling up on my lap today to give me some Valentine's cuddles.

Until I realized he was sneakily trying to grab the fancy new universal remote control I had hidden on top of the couch.

UnSexy Color of the Day

We have been skiing for the week and like most skiers, a giant part of the experience is holding your pee. Having to pee as a skier never strikes at a convenient time: it never happens when you are stripped down to the long johns sipping cocoa in the lodge. It happens when you are stuck on the chairlift or at the top of the trail the furthest from the lodge...so most people just pull over to the side and pee in the woods.

I have become quite adept at balancing behind a tree, on the ice, with ski boots on, poised like a racer so the pee doesn't go into the pants (a definite no-no). Today however, as I was in position to go, I heard hoots and hollars from the chairlift.

Turns out wearing my new bright red ski coat isn't the best choice for stealth woods peeing.

Sexy Elephant

We took Baby Boy to a restaurant last night and on the way out they had one of those games where you move a giant claw around and try to grab hold of a cheaply made, soon-to-be-recalled, flammable stuffed animal.

He zoomed in on a puffy (ugly, ugly) elephant and kept doing the sign for "elephant" and "more" until Darling Husband dug up some quarters and plopped them in the machine as I sprayed sanitizing gel all over the controllers--last thing we need is that ugly doll AND swine flu.

After a dollar's worth of realizing that toy was waaaay too heavy for the flimsy claw to ever latch on we started to leave. Baby Boy continued throwing his arm up like a trunk and trumpeting like his favorite elephant. I took another dollar out and swore I would be able to get it for him.

45-minutes and $22.00 later, that goddam elephant hadn't moved and Darling Husband and I were about ready to get black-balled for all the swearing and kicking of the machine we were doing.

Baby Boy had lost interest about $8.00 in and was having a splendid time picking chewed gum from the side of the target practice game.

This morning however, Baby Boy was acting like an elephant and pointing to the door and grunting with want.

We are going back to try again this afternoon. I am sure when the elephant sees us he will bury himself deeper into the array of tropical fish and Sponge Bob's while Baby Boy mimics him against the scratched Plexiglass--because as you know, elephants and toddlers never forget.

Sexy Reading

If you haven't read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, read it!!! It is sooooooo amazing!!!

Sexy Surface Cleaning

Once you have kids the concept of cleaning the house in a thorough manner pretty much goes the direction of one's waistline: away.

Here is the Sexy Mama's Guide to Surface Cleaning...your friends, husband, dinner guests and children will never know about the inches of dirt under the rugs or entire meals behind the couch.

UPON ENTERING your home, the smell is the first indication that you just spent hours scrubbing. Spray Windex around the doorway about 20 mins before expecting guests. Also, be putting away a roll of paper towels as soon as they see you with a breathless, "Gosh, sorry. I just got done mopping and the time just slipped away!"

IN THE KITCHEN you also want a smell but rather than ammonia something sweet or spicy--something that will whip up visions of you cooking the day away. Light candles that smell like Vanilla cookies, apple pie or cider.

STOCK UP on fabulous little gourmet frozen appetizers like quiches, frozen chocolate croissants, cashews, champagne and raspberry liquor...there is never an inappropriate time to serve these and they are practically no work. Serve them on your wedding china--yes, this is exactly what you have been saving them for.

SCREW THE ROOMS no one is going to see. If you have friends coming over don't clean what they won't see. Unless you have a brand new nursery to show off, shove the kids' rooms full of the clutter from the living and dining rooms. People expect the kids' rooms to be messy--even if it is with old New York Times and overdue bills.

MAKE THE BATHROOM beautiful. Buy fancy towels, little candles, a gorgeous mirror, lovely flowers--this is a space that people will use to judge the whole appearance of your home.

LOVE YOUR DIMMERS nothing says clean like what you can't see! Hide that dust and fuzz with mood lighting. Plus it also hides your "laugh lines"...

DISTRACT WITH MUSIC play a sexy iPOD playlist and when the conversation lulls and people's eyes start wandering to the nests on top of your cabinets, you can redirect to the funky song that is playing--mimicking Single Ladies will never be old.

SHOW OFF YOUR LADIES these days there is no excuse to not have rockin' cleavage. If you don't naturally have bazooms, Vicky's has these new Stage 5 bras that literally make you 2 cup sizes bigger--INVEST!!

AND DON'T WORRY this is our dirty little secret--after all, isn't life really about how it appears at first glance?

Sexy Invention of the Day

Guitar Hero and Rock Band are what most adults buy their kids for gifts mainly because they love to play them after the kids have gone to bed (and they are missing their middle school days).

Here is the new idea for those of us who don't have enough coordination for Smoke on the Water, sober or otherwise: Cowbell Hero.

And for those of you more classically inclined: Metronome Hero.

UN-Sexy Pool Rule

We took Baby Boy to Boston this past weekend and stayed at the Four Seasons where they have a fabulous indoor pool. Despite how classy the hotel is, I had to take a double take at the un-sexy rule they had posted:

"If you have diarrhea, PLEASE don't use the pool."

Sounds like there is a backstory to that one...