Shoe lies

I had an interesting conversation with a co-worker in the hallway today. As I passed by her she exclaimed “Cute, sassy shoes!” I replied with gratitude as she went on to ask “But, I just don’t know how you girls wear them all day. Don’t your feet hurt?” I looked her straight in the eye and said “Oh no, at my desk I kick them off and if I have to walk anywhere downtown I put on flats”. She let out a long and pronounced “ooooh” as she realized the farce that is a woman trotting around in her high heels all day pretending that she’s doing so pain-free. She tossed back, “So, you don’t walk over to Target in those?”
I guffawed and stated “Hell No!”
So ladies, here it is. The rest of us are not teetering around in our four inch or higher
stilettos all day. If you are, please stop, you’re killing yourself for no reason. If you’re
walking down just to get a latte, sure leave those sexy heels on and make the men swoon
at the way you walk with a titillating swagger; make the women swoon with envy that
you have the cutest shoes they’ve ever seen. However, if you plan to power-walk more
than three blocks you must leave the damn things under your desk and put on a pair of
flats. Your toes will tank you, your stilettos will enjoy the reprieve, and the women
trying to balance on one foot at a time for a little relief while in the elevator will envy
you.

Happy Mother's Day from Dead

If you know me well you know I’m not a believer. However, once in a while a good horror flick will give me the creeps and make me think that ghosts are staring at me in shower. Sometimes I hear them saying “Damn, that lady needs to shave her legs and workout a little more”. I hate ghost, they’re so snarky.
On Sunday a spirit channeled herself through me. She said to my beautiful little monkey “Every day is Kid’s Day”. My head whipped around so fast that my neck still hurts. I thought to myself, “Oh my gawd, my mother is here”. Not only do I look at my hands every day and think, those are my mother’s veiny hands; but now she’s taken over my larynx and is spewing forth the quotes I loathed so much as a kid. When I start calling myself “Abbey Normal” and telling my daughter to “drink your milk so your ovaries don’t shrivel up” please check me into the nearest mental institution.
I won’t complain too much about all of her traits I’ve inherited. This oily skin is keeping me from getting wrinkles. I am also grateful for my big brain and mesmerizing eyes. However, I will admit that I am working pretty damn hard trying not to repeat her mistakes. So much so that the weight of it swings me to the opposite extreme, "hello new mistakes I didn’t see you coming". Is this a bad thing? Not so much. It has made me to be very self-aware and I work improve myself so that I can offer my daughter a safe place to fall; even if it does involve hugs from veiny hands and a quote from Abbey Normal.

Demons and Cheezy Puffs

Tuesday night at the Shaffer Shack was full of thrills.
The Monkey woke at 10:00p.m. and proceeded to wail and scream and contradict herself for two hours straight. (up, down, up, down, momma, dada, momma, dada) Finally, on the third offer to sleep in the big bed with momma she acquiesced and passed out from sheer exhaustion.
I feared the worst…Night Terrors! Yes, as described by other parents they are the demon spawn that creep into your home and stealthily leave with your beautiful baby that slept through the night and replace it with a party animal night owl toddler.
So on Wednesday morning momma whined to her other mommy friends about the evil that lurks in the 2nd bedroom upstairs. Momma complained that she should just buy her own Dunn Bros and pay for the staff because it would be cheaper than buying it by the gallon. Momma whined to the therapist that she was an inadequate parent that couldn't comfort her child.
Then momma learned on Wednesday evening that daddy had let the little monster eat a whole canister of baby cheesy puffs before bed on Tuesday. Momma realized she is married to the demon spawn that robs her of her beauty rest. Momma made that demon support her caffeine addiction this morning.

Drowning in Exhaust Fumes

I’m exhausted. I have yet to pin down whether it is physically, mentally, or both. I’m sure the physical is an absolute. Chasing after an 18 month old monkey for a week straight is enough to put anyone into a constant state of exhaustion. To all you stay at home mommies out there…Kudos…I have no freaking idea how you do it. Even with the constant flow of coffee and espresso coursing through my veins I barely kept up with the two foot monster.
It got to the point I insisted on writing her a check for all the personal training. We swam, we walked, we ran up stairs with the 30 pound monkey clinging to the front of me; we down ran stairs with the 30 pound monkey on my shoulders pulling my hair as though it was a bridle and reins; we ran stairs with the 30 pound monkey shrieking in my ears that she needed a banana fix now dammit. And you know what really pisses me off…that I still managed to gain weight on vacation. All of the delicious food on the cruise found a new home on my hips. Why hello dessert, you’ll do just fine over here on the right buttock…Welcome!
As for the mental exhaustion…yeah, I’m certain there’s that too. Have you ever entertained a toddler on a plane for 3.5 hours? I have, with help, and I still thought about jumping. Planning flights around nap time doesn’t work either. OH Momma...I’m too excited to sleep!!! Instead I’ll bounce off your lap, to Dada’s to Gamma’s and back again. Snack. Snack. SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!! Book. Book. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK! Mom, mom, momma, momma, MOMMA, MOOOOOOMA!!! Aaaaaaand FIN.

Torn to Pieces

As a mother there is the constant battle of whether one should stay home with the children versus going out into the working world to be a career woman. The pull of little hands and giant sobs on the left; the pull of personal success and a second income on right. Every day the two hands try to balance; every day one outweighs the other.
As women we of course are our own worst critics. If we go to work we think of all the milestones we are missing. I personally want to be there for the first time Tess stubs her toe and screams “Dammit”. My heart will swell with pride that she’s been watching her momma so closely. On the other hand, the feedback for my desk job is so much more rewarding…some days…especially payday.
Constantly the battle of whether the paycheck should be sacrificed for the reward of time spent watching the development of a little human being versus the lesson to our daughters that they too can be anything they want to be when they grow up. It’s impossible to make the “right” choice. It simply doesn’t exist in a neat little box upon the shelf. The wrong answer for one is the right solution for the other. Each child is so unique in their needs that you may meet the requirements of your first born while depriving the second.
What’s most frustrating is that as mothers we have turned against our own. The two sides: stay at home moms and the working mothers. Each side staring the other down, criticizing in their minds, “Oh how can she stand it!?!”. Whether it is “how can she stand being at home all day wiping boogers” or “how can she stand being away from her babies”. Then there is the other side of the coin. The working mother who wants to be home and the mother at home who misses her career. I look for an answer but I only find more questions on how to balance my roles of wife, mother, daughter, and self. I eventually give up, pour myself a glass of wine, crack open InStyle magazine and think “Oooo! Shoes!”. Now I remember why I really have a job.

A High Tech Xmas

I was reading one of those lists of “Best Gifts” for the holiday season. Today’s happened to be one for the hi-tech savvy individual. But when I got to this little honey I busted a gut and sprayed a fair amount of disbelief in the form of saliva all over my computer screen. What is it you ask? Why…A cordless wine bottle opener.

To view it in all its wonder check it out on Amazon.com if your really "Giving".
http://www.amazon.com/Waring-WWO100-Cordless-Professional-Quality/dp/B0026YQCB4

Why the sopping wet disbelief you ask. Because I already own a cordless wine bottle opener and it didn’t cost me the original price tag of $99.99

Modern Technology

Christmas is still 17 days away and I’m already exhausted from traveling. Yes, I admit it has only been one trip so far, but the drive across Minnesota to South Dakota is not only long, but also boring. At this moment however, I would like to take a moment and thank the person who invented the portable DVD player. Without it I would not have been able to watch Snow White two times on my way to SoDak. Nor would I have been able to start the movie UP six times on my way back to the Twin Cities. Without it, I would not have had a happy baby who was mesmerized by the beauty that is modern day cartooning enhancement re-released for a limited time.

“OMG…Dwarves are sooo funny!”
I would also personally like to thank my hubby and his innovative mind that converted our portable DVD player so that it could become one that attaches to the headrest.

Why yes, that is a bungee cord in canary yellow
Truly, I am grateful for being a parent in the modern day. It is so much easier to look back to see my zombie baby being content instead of fighting with the dog over her side of the seat. This will really help with the 5 million trips we have planned to Wisconsin over the next 3 weeks.