Those Damn Thomas Trains

Kids have a few of the Thomas the Tank Engine trains, and they love them.

Problem being that when my youngest says Percy's name, it sounds very distinctly like "Pussy."

Brings a whole new child-molestation level to her requests for Daddy to come play.

"Daddy, will you play with my Percy, please-please?"

And a very dirty parental in-joke: "Daddy, do you like Percy?" "Mommy, can you give Percy to Daddy, please-please?" "Percy doesn't want to see Daddy right now." "Daddy LOVES Percy!"

Yes, yes he does, thank you very much. Now bug off, kid. Daddy's gonna play with my Percy.

(Man, that was dirty...even for me!)

Thanks, Kid.

My son this morning decided to point out everything in his view that matched his red shirt.

My hair rubberband, his sib's socks, a piece of furniture, the red nail polish stain on the carpet, a random toy, the blood in our bodies, (he's half vampire, did I mention that?) and the best part:

Those red dots on mom's face.

Thanks, kid. I needed that today. Think I'm gonna go put on some makeup, ya little twit.

UGH.

So, my intestines are trying to chat me up this morning...

AND I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT THEY'RE SAYING!

Really, it beats the crap out of me!

If they could only speak ENGLISH...

She Wants to be a Soccer Mom

Girl I know...fondest dream? Motherhood a la Soccer.

I'm living a beautiful, successful woman's fondest dream?

Let's analyze this for just a moment, shall we?

I mean, I do spend most of my time having my nails done, visiting the salon for my root-upkeep, and shopping at Neiman Marcus - the outlet, of course - not to mention all those personal training sessions at my in-home gym...

And I love my ice cream bon bons while I'm updating myself on the daily goings-on of General Hospital...

And there's something about watching your maid do your cleaning for you, and your housekeeper heading out to pick up your children from school and day care, and your personal chef preparing your South Beach lunch and putting together your farmer's garden-based family dinner for later tonight, and your gardener cutting back your tea roses, and the dog-walker taking your puppy for a spin around the neighborhood, and that hunky pool boy scooping the fallen leaves from the pool knowing you'll never have to do any of those things yourself that really increases your zest for life...

And did I mention how much I adore my au pair? Almost as much as my kids do...so long as they never start thinking that she's the mom, that is. Oh, and I'm equally as thrilled by how much they love their private tutors...and golf teachers...and piano lessons...and dance instructors, sports coaches, and the lot...

But I must confess...the last time I actually drove my minivan, it was to have my eyebrows threaded, and the last time I actually attended one of my son's soccer games was...well, let's be honest, I let my husband do that. My skin is sun-sensitive.

No wonder she wants my life. It's good to be me!

Are They KIDDING ME?!

Leaving my kid's school today after dropping said child, I encountered exactly 4 other people headed back to their cars, as well.

THREE of them were on cell phones.

WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE SO DAMNED IMPORTANT?!

Really. Did they just HAVE to call their significant other at work to say "I just dropped Jr, and now I'm on the way home!" (Significant Other doesn't give a damn, okay?) Was it absolutely imperative that they immediately telephone the doctor's office to say "I'm on my way, but I'll be 2 minutes late"? Or maybe they had to call up their BFF's and say "My kid is out of the way, so I'll meet you for brunch at 10!"

NONE of those things are important enough that they couldn't wait the 5 minutes it takes to get home to a landline.

"Oh, but we don't have a landline because our cell phones are just so much more convenient!" Yes, and you pay for that convenience out the NOSE, don't you? You PAY MONEY each month - sometimes into the hundreds of dollars! - so that someone can bother you WHEREVER you are. WHY? In the name of all that is sacred and holy, WHY do you want to be able to be reached at every moment of every day?

Are you a paranoid individual? You're afraid your father is going to have a heart attack at any second, and you want him to be able to reach you while you're at Target buying socks (rather than call an ambulance, like he should)? Does having a cell in your purse ease your anxiety about your the possibility of your child becoming ill at school, knowing THIS WAY they can reach you?

Or are you just THAT important that you NEED to be able to be reached? A heart or neurosurgeon, for instance? No? How about...a Blockbuster employee! Because, you know, any one of your coworkers could get mowed down on the freeway on the way to work, and you MIGHT be needed to come fill in! HOW ELSE WOULD PEOPLE RENT THEIR MOVIES if you weren't able to step in for your dead coworker??? Perhaps it is that, as the mother of a Boy Scout, you're just always prepared, and this way your teenager can text you to complain - in abbreviated English - about the load of homework the teacher is currently laying on. Because, you see, THAT couldn't wait until they came home. NO, NO, WAIT...your child needs you to pick them up from school, but you'll be running errands all day and won't be home until the bus would have arrived...then again, you'll get home, check your messages when you notice your kid didn't get off the bus, and race to the school five minutes away to pick that kid up. ("The school might be EMPTY by then!" Doubtful.)

I JUST...DON'T...GET IT.

We are SOOOOO eager to be SOOOOOO connected...doesn't that seem just a little codependent? Or egotistical? Or obsessive? I mean, really, how did we get along without cell phones back when we were kids?

Just fine, thank you very much.

And I get along without a cell phone just fine now. And so do my kids. No, not everything is instant, but I don't expect it to be. And damn it all to hell, I don't WANT to be reached when I'm browsing through clothing...I don't WANT to be interuppted when I'm perusing the aisles of the grocery store. I just want to enjoy.

People of the world, turn off your cell phones - at least while you're driving, at the movies, attending a live performance, or sitting at dinner - and enjoy just taking a breath, will you? I promise, the world won't end if you don't get that text until later, and that phone call coming in? Or the one you were just about to make? It's not important. You're not that important. And that's okay.

I'm not either.

I'm Baaaaaaaaaaaack...

Ate a piece of cheese today: Cotswold, to be exact.

I nearly orgasmed on the spot.

Bad, Naughty Mommy is BACK, people. With a VENGEANCE.