That X-Chromosome Will Getcha

Well, we survived (I use that term loosely) another birthday at our house. Thing 1 turned 10 in human years—17 in girl years.


Someone help me understand when, exactly, I lost control as a parent…

Could it have been when I agreed to let her make her own birthday cake and she decided it needed to be frosted OUT of the pan while it was still hot so she dumped it on the counter and it crumbled into a thousand pieces all over my kitchen and floor?

Could it have been when I told her she could invite a few friends over for cake and ice cream and it turned into a free-for-all, you know, since she didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings?

Could it have been when all her friends helped her decide the party should start right after school instead of a reasonable hour when I could be home from work and so therefore I had to take a half day off work?

Could it have been when I told her we could have pizza for dinner but her friends decided they were hungry NOW so I was sent off to Little Caesars with a list of special requests?

Could it have been when her grandpa called to wish her a happy birthday and all of her friends passed the phone around the room and acted like ninnies?

Could it have been when I made the mistake of letting her pick out some clothes for her birthday and she decided she needed to wear all of them at once to show off to her friends?

Could it have been when the neon pink lipstick made its first appearance?

Could it have been when we decided having a baby sounded like fun and that bloody X-chromosome fought its way to the front of the line?

Yeah. I think that was where it all went awry.

Se la vi! We are stuck with her. Good thing we love her so much!

On the writing front, I have about 72 hours till my pages are due for the conference. I will be locked in my room, showerless and braless donning PJs while I complete my revisions. Wish me luck!

Birthday Dilemmas

I am blogging from Ontario, Canada. I will be traveling here two or three more times this summer so I’ve got that going for me, which is nice.


This week I am having a motherly dilemma. Thing 1 is having a birthday next week. Want to know what she has asked for?

1. An iPhone
2. A plane ticket to Austin Texas to visit her cousins
3. A pair of roller-skate shoes
4. A disco light
5. A razor and shaving cream

We usually keep birthdays very small—just a small gift from each member of the family. Most of you would look at this list and laugh at me, as you should, and tell me the answer is simple.

But let me explain my dilemma...
1. I want her to have an iPhone so she will STOP using mine! And, we are in the process of renegotiating our contracts so it would be relatively feasible to get her one. Except Daddy has insisted he is higher up the iPhone food-chain than she is so Option 1 is out.

Plus. Come on. An iPhone for a 10 year old? I can’t bring myself to do it.

2. I would love to send her to visit my sister. In fact, I would love to go with her. I think that is an awesome birthday present. And, thanks to my travel for work, I have enough frequent flyer miles to buy her a ticket.

But just because I have enough miles…should I? Is that too extravagant? Shouldn’t I save those miles for a family vacation instead?

3. I hate roller-skate shoes. The dog running around my hardwood floors is bad enough. Roller-skates? No.

4. A disco light? Seriously? Where am I supposed to get one of those? And…ew.

5. A razor? Heaven help me. She needs to, don’t get me wrong. She is starting to notice and getting self conscious so I can’t put it off much longer.

What is a mother to do? I have a bad habit of overindulging my children. I want them to have things. I do. But I’m afraid this time it’s gone too far.

I think we will end up with a razor, shaving cream and…WHAT?

Please give me some ideas!

I know. How about a Diet Pepsi and a kick in the butt?

There. It’s settled.

Cake-Chubbies

Thing-2 turned 8 years-old yesterday. She had an amazing birthday party on Saturday, much to the torment of her mother. The chocolate cake was sinful--the one from Costco, you know which one I’m talking about. Don’t pretend you don’t. (And no, I didn’t hide it in the trunk of my car, and eat it in a closet—it’s not like it was CUPCAKES!)

Anyway, the cake looked great going down.

Not so much when it was puked onto my brand-new carpet 6-hours later *sighs*

Se la vi.

I had to run 4 miles yesterday to work off the cake chubbies. Was it worth it? Ohhhh yeah.

Does anyone else out there run? Do you have any tips for me? My sister Tara has thrown down the gauntlet and I am trying to train for a Half Marathon in July. What a joke, right? That’s what I thought. The only way the race would be fair is if all the other runners had to strap a 100-lb bags of flour on their backs and run alongside me.

Being fat is so unfair sometimes.

But look at the bright side—no one expects much of you so you can hide cupcakes in your car and eat a Costco sheet cake and order the Super-Size combo meal with the Diet Coke and all people will do is roll their eyes and say, “Figures.”

Ain’t life grand?

Happy Eating and Running Everyone!