Emma: You know what is a good idea Mom?
Me: What?
Emma: To get frozen when you die so that if science can find a way to bring you back to life you can live forever.
Me: Some people do that.
Emma: Really? Where do they put them so they don't melt? Oh yeah...and I just learned to use one of those phones that has the spinny thing on it. Cool huh Mom?
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Major Gas
Me: (pumping gas into my Ford Expedition which was down to fumes)
Fucking weird as shit guy creeping up BEHIND me: Sorry to be asking you this but I have been looking for and Expedition. Where did you find yours?
Me: Uhhh...Carmax (you fucking weird as shit guy creeping up BEHIND me) * quickly climbing into my car and locking my car doors*
As I drove away I realized he was driving a car from a CAR DEALERSHIP! You know who this guy was? He was a, fucking weird as shit guy creeping up BEHIND me!
Fucking weird as shit guy creeping up BEHIND me: Sorry to be asking you this but I have been looking for and Expedition. Where did you find yours?
Me: Uhhh...Carmax (you fucking weird as shit guy creeping up BEHIND me) * quickly climbing into my car and locking my car doors*
As I drove away I realized he was driving a car from a CAR DEALERSHIP! You know who this guy was? He was a, fucking weird as shit guy creeping up BEHIND me!
Thursday, May 21, 2009
The Ape(s)
I am at a "mother" of a dilemma. Where to begin? I suppose if you are reading this you are well aware that I am Cuban and Italian. Right? OK. Well this mix does not lend to easy grooming. Look, flat out...we are hairy chicks. My razor cannot keep up with me. The wax fights an often losing battle. This has been one of the things I HATE the MOST about my bod. That and my super, super long ass but that is another blog.
I went to Catholic school and a skirt was a requirement. Does anyone have any idea how friggin terrible that is when you look like an ape as a child. Yes, I said it...an ape. I was an ape. Want to know why I "chose" the word ape? Because that is what the kids in 3rd-5th grade called me every day I had to wear that damn plaid skirt showing off my ape gams. Ugh. It was terrible. Really...I clearly have not forgotten it. Those ass-holes.
But then in 5th grade, my Dad started dating his now wife, Arleen. At that time her daughter was 15 and her son was 13. I was 11. 11 years old with ape legs. Dad and Arleen always would have a day over the weekend that the 6 of us would hang out...do something fun. One particular Saturday they thought it would be fun to go hydro-tubing. You remember...the tubes you slide down into a pool of water? Insert my complete and utter 11 year old panic here. So let me see. I have to wear a swimsuit at 11 with my itty bitty boobies, and my LONG APE LEGS in front of a 13 yr. old and a 15 yr. old? Holy shit! What was a panicked 11 yr. old to do? Ask to shave for the first time of course!
So...I go to my Dad. He basically says that he needs to check with my Mom. I think he was willing to let me but ya know...divorce is messy enough without allowing your 11 yr. old girl to shave her ape legs during your visitation weekend without the Mom's buy-in. So off my Dad went to the phone. Well...my Mom said no. I was devastated. Full embarrassment was coming later that evening in front of my future step-brother, step-sister, step-mother and strangers alike. My Mom and Dad stayed on the phone for some time...intense conversation it seemed. So what did I do? Went into the bathroom of my Dad's apartment, took my pants off, grabbed my Dad's razor, sat on the toilet seat, put my right foot up on the side of the tub and dry shaved my ape legs...hair, skin and all. Yeah that's right...my shins looked like corned beef. I was so cut up that we did not go hydro-tubing that night.
So now, Emma, almost finished with 3rd grade has ape legs too. She wants to shave...says the kids make comments when she wears shorts. She has begged me and begged me and I have said no. How can I be saying no? Am I not the one who wrote those paragraphs up there? Do I want her to hide in the bathroom and convert herself from ape to cold-cut? NO! So...when I said no, she asked me about Nair.
I still have not made a decision on any of this. I will. But in the meantime, I want to say to all the kids who called me ape, "screw you I'm hot"...and Emma will be too!
I went to Catholic school and a skirt was a requirement. Does anyone have any idea how friggin terrible that is when you look like an ape as a child. Yes, I said it...an ape. I was an ape. Want to know why I "chose" the word ape? Because that is what the kids in 3rd-5th grade called me every day I had to wear that damn plaid skirt showing off my ape gams. Ugh. It was terrible. Really...I clearly have not forgotten it. Those ass-holes.
But then in 5th grade, my Dad started dating his now wife, Arleen. At that time her daughter was 15 and her son was 13. I was 11. 11 years old with ape legs. Dad and Arleen always would have a day over the weekend that the 6 of us would hang out...do something fun. One particular Saturday they thought it would be fun to go hydro-tubing. You remember...the tubes you slide down into a pool of water? Insert my complete and utter 11 year old panic here. So let me see. I have to wear a swimsuit at 11 with my itty bitty boobies, and my LONG APE LEGS in front of a 13 yr. old and a 15 yr. old? Holy shit! What was a panicked 11 yr. old to do? Ask to shave for the first time of course!
So...I go to my Dad. He basically says that he needs to check with my Mom. I think he was willing to let me but ya know...divorce is messy enough without allowing your 11 yr. old girl to shave her ape legs during your visitation weekend without the Mom's buy-in. So off my Dad went to the phone. Well...my Mom said no. I was devastated. Full embarrassment was coming later that evening in front of my future step-brother, step-sister, step-mother and strangers alike. My Mom and Dad stayed on the phone for some time...intense conversation it seemed. So what did I do? Went into the bathroom of my Dad's apartment, took my pants off, grabbed my Dad's razor, sat on the toilet seat, put my right foot up on the side of the tub and dry shaved my ape legs...hair, skin and all. Yeah that's right...my shins looked like corned beef. I was so cut up that we did not go hydro-tubing that night.
So now, Emma, almost finished with 3rd grade has ape legs too. She wants to shave...says the kids make comments when she wears shorts. She has begged me and begged me and I have said no. How can I be saying no? Am I not the one who wrote those paragraphs up there? Do I want her to hide in the bathroom and convert herself from ape to cold-cut? NO! So...when I said no, she asked me about Nair.
I still have not made a decision on any of this. I will. But in the meantime, I want to say to all the kids who called me ape, "screw you I'm hot"...and Emma will be too!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Keegan the Parrott
Josh: Keegan, say, crocodile.
Keegan: cock-o-dial
Josh: Keegan, say frog.
Keegan: F-ukk
Josh: Keegan say, vagina.
Keegan: Kitty-cat
Josh & Cristina: (laughing asses off wondering, WFT???)
Keegan: cock-o-dial
Josh: Keegan, say frog.
Keegan: F-ukk
Josh: Keegan say, vagina.
Keegan: Kitty-cat
Josh & Cristina: (laughing asses off wondering, WFT???)
Emma's Heart
Emma: Mom, I want to be an organ donor. Like...really soon.
Me: You do? You know that is something that you can only do when you are older and when you pass away?
Emma: Oh. But can't you live with like one organ and give it to someone who needs it?
Me: Well yes. If you needed a kidney, if the doctor says we match, I could give you one of mine and live just fine.
Emma: But you could not do that with a heart, right?
Me: Right, because you can't live without a heart. But Emma, if you needed my heart I would give you mine.
Emma: Oh, Mom...I would not want you to die just because I would die. It would be ok.
Me: You do? You know that is something that you can only do when you are older and when you pass away?
Emma: Oh. But can't you live with like one organ and give it to someone who needs it?
Me: Well yes. If you needed a kidney, if the doctor says we match, I could give you one of mine and live just fine.
Emma: But you could not do that with a heart, right?
Me: Right, because you can't live without a heart. But Emma, if you needed my heart I would give you mine.
Emma: Oh, Mom...I would not want you to die just because I would die. It would be ok.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
You can't take your sperm back
This has come up so often in the past few weeks I could not ignore it any longer.
When my husband took 3 months worth of his salary (I assume that is what it was) and purchased me this lovely piece of carbon and then asked, "marry me and have a family WITH me?" I took him seriously so I said yes. When we bought our home, with his money and my money, it was intended to be a place where we would live together with our family. And then, when his daughter, my daughter and the two of us moved in together I still believed that he wanted to have a family WITH me. And when our son was born I still believed that he wanted to have a family WITH me. And yes, all of those beliefs are still accurate. So why do I get this from people I know? "Cristina, you are so lucky that Josh helps you with the kids and the house". Ummmmmm, nooooooooo. I am lucky that I have found a wonderful human being with whom to share my life. See, Josh cannot take his sperm back...neither can any other father! He and I chose to have a family together therefore he and I chose to take responsibility for that family. Am I the primary care-taker of the kids and the house etc.? Yes, of course.
I work part-time from home for a reason...but he has two arms and legs also.
I saw a story on The Today Show this week. A husband and a wife from Pennsylvania have a toddler and a baby on the way. They do this thing called "Equal Parenting". Sounds good, right? Wrong...it is ridiculous! I know, you are thinking, "wait...this sounds like something that Cristina could get behind". Hell no! Allow me to explain. These two idiots share a job...a job that they get paid for. I have no clue what it is but what the hell kind of job could this be? So, they share a job and share the responsibilities for their one son. They have a kid schedule. Monday's she gets up with him and he puts him to bed. Tuesday that flip-flops and so on.
A schedule? And they have purchased a smaller home, don't go to the movies, or dinner and share a car.
Where do I start with this shit? OK...first off, Josh's job pays our bills but there is no way I am going to talk about ball bearings all day. There is no way I am going to share commissions with him. There is no way I am going to work with some of the good ol' boys he works with. So job share? Eff no! And a schedule to have the joy of seeing your baby or toddler first thing in the morning or rocking him to sleep? Are they effing kidding me? Look, if Mom or Dad are available to participate in either ritual...just do it already! For God's sake...it is a kid...not an annual pap or rectal exam that needs to be scheduled when it is convenient for you. And a smaller house, no money to go out and one car? So let me understand this. These idiots work together, trade on and off with child-rearing according to a schedule, don't have money to go out as husband and wife and have one car so they go everywhere together? No time or money to be an individual or a couple? This is not "Equal Parenting". This is a one way ticket to a divorce that will take you from small house, one car and seeing your kids each day to a life in a roach infested apartment, the city bus and spending every other weekend with your kids once the divorce lawyer gets his/her mitts on you.
Here is an idea. If a husband or wife sees shit that needs to be done around the house or for the kids...just effing do it! And courtesy rules. When your spouse does something helpful a simple thank you will do.
Am I downplaying how wonderful Josh is? NO! NO! NO! He is. He is a wonderful person who takes his responsibilities seriously. He is a wonderful person who appreciates what I do therefore reciprocates when he can. If I ask for help he gives it. He often gives it without me asking. What a concept! But, what I am saying here is these are his kids too. This is his house too. He eats this food too. He dirties dishes too. He wears and dirties clothes too. He makes messes in the house too. So why should he not be accountable or responsible for these things? Because he makes more money than me? Because he has outdoor plumbing? No! He should be responsible and accountable (and he is, by his choice) because he asked me to be his PARTNER in LIFE. And this is the life that WE have CHOSEN.
When my husband took 3 months worth of his salary (I assume that is what it was) and purchased me this lovely piece of carbon and then asked, "marry me and have a family WITH me?" I took him seriously so I said yes. When we bought our home, with his money and my money, it was intended to be a place where we would live together with our family. And then, when his daughter, my daughter and the two of us moved in together I still believed that he wanted to have a family WITH me. And when our son was born I still believed that he wanted to have a family WITH me. And yes, all of those beliefs are still accurate. So why do I get this from people I know? "Cristina, you are so lucky that Josh helps you with the kids and the house". Ummmmmm, nooooooooo. I am lucky that I have found a wonderful human being with whom to share my life. See, Josh cannot take his sperm back...neither can any other father! He and I chose to have a family together therefore he and I chose to take responsibility for that family. Am I the primary care-taker of the kids and the house etc.? Yes, of course.
I work part-time from home for a reason...but he has two arms and legs also.
I saw a story on The Today Show this week. A husband and a wife from Pennsylvania have a toddler and a baby on the way. They do this thing called "Equal Parenting". Sounds good, right? Wrong...it is ridiculous! I know, you are thinking, "wait...this sounds like something that Cristina could get behind". Hell no! Allow me to explain. These two idiots share a job...a job that they get paid for. I have no clue what it is but what the hell kind of job could this be? So, they share a job and share the responsibilities for their one son. They have a kid schedule. Monday's she gets up with him and he puts him to bed. Tuesday that flip-flops and so on.
A schedule? And they have purchased a smaller home, don't go to the movies, or dinner and share a car.
Where do I start with this shit? OK...first off, Josh's job pays our bills but there is no way I am going to talk about ball bearings all day. There is no way I am going to share commissions with him. There is no way I am going to work with some of the good ol' boys he works with. So job share? Eff no! And a schedule to have the joy of seeing your baby or toddler first thing in the morning or rocking him to sleep? Are they effing kidding me? Look, if Mom or Dad are available to participate in either ritual...just do it already! For God's sake...it is a kid...not an annual pap or rectal exam that needs to be scheduled when it is convenient for you. And a smaller house, no money to go out and one car? So let me understand this. These idiots work together, trade on and off with child-rearing according to a schedule, don't have money to go out as husband and wife and have one car so they go everywhere together? No time or money to be an individual or a couple? This is not "Equal Parenting". This is a one way ticket to a divorce that will take you from small house, one car and seeing your kids each day to a life in a roach infested apartment, the city bus and spending every other weekend with your kids once the divorce lawyer gets his/her mitts on you.
Here is an idea. If a husband or wife sees shit that needs to be done around the house or for the kids...just effing do it! And courtesy rules. When your spouse does something helpful a simple thank you will do.
Am I downplaying how wonderful Josh is? NO! NO! NO! He is. He is a wonderful person who takes his responsibilities seriously. He is a wonderful person who appreciates what I do therefore reciprocates when he can. If I ask for help he gives it. He often gives it without me asking. What a concept! But, what I am saying here is these are his kids too. This is his house too. He eats this food too. He dirties dishes too. He wears and dirties clothes too. He makes messes in the house too. So why should he not be accountable or responsible for these things? Because he makes more money than me? Because he has outdoor plumbing? No! He should be responsible and accountable (and he is, by his choice) because he asked me to be his PARTNER in LIFE. And this is the life that WE have CHOSEN.
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