I Don't Need A Nickname

I've come to the realization that I actually cause Lazy to happen. It could almost be considered a "condition" around here sometimes. The worst part is that it took me until recently to step back and see what was happening. I made a conscience effort to take a look at what I actually do to cause it. Most of the time the things I do are so irrelevant, that the people I do them for would never consider themselves Lazy for not doing them. Frankly, I don't blame them. I am an Enabler. I've never had a nickname in my life, but if there is one out there that applies at this point, that would be it.

I would first like to blame my own Lazy on most of this. It is possible that this affliction spread from me to them. It just so happens that most days start off bad, simply because I procrastinate when it comes to starting it. Hopefully this isn't contagious also. Lazy, I believe spreads through the fact that I am a Snooze Button Whore. Please, do not decide that this is a more applicable nickname for me...After all, I have impressionable young children and I would prefer to avoid having them call me a Whore.

If you were to follow my day you would realize that I have very limited options for a nickname. Here's how one might go:

I start my day after pushing the snooze button on numerous devices. You read that right, I like the snooze button so much that I set 3 alarms at slightly different intervals on 3 separate devices. I hit snooze on each one at least once, and possibly twice on a couple of them. This is where the Whore aspect creeps in. I like the snooze button so much that I took on multiple partners.

Back to my day...

Today my day started as I ran into the bathroom. I knew things were going to need to move swiftly this morning to get the kids ready in time for the bus. Curse you snooze button!...Call Me. My dog was hot on my heels. I turned on the water for a shower, got undressed, and sat on the toilet. As soon as my ass hit the seat my youngest son walked in, rubbing his eyes and mumbling something about a school day. "Yes, it's a school day" I said as I quickly grabbed some toilet paper to cover my chest. What?...I'm surprised he didn't tell me he liked my shirt...Instead, he started screaming that he didn't want to go to school, stormed out of the room, and slammed the door. Awesome...he's in a good mood. No doubt he will be a lover of the snooze button when he gets older.

I guess this is as good a time as any to point out that a decision to be Lazy and stay in my bed for "just a few more minutes"...causes the constant need the rest of the day for me to multi-task. I've always been proud of being able to do so many things at once, but lately I've come to the conclusion that I complete a majority of these tasks in a way that would be described by many as "mediocre". I am a half-ass, multi-tasker (An additional nickname option I suppose).

I was about to step in the shower when I noticed my dog looking a little fidgety, circling about looking to see where he would go to pee if it came down to it. Shit...OK... I'll be quick, I promise puppy. I grabbed my razor off the counter, and saw my toothbrush. Yep, I can cram that in too. I put toothpaste on it and jumped into the shower. I was going to perform multi tasks, not only at the same time, but in a window of time that was quickly closing.

The short version of this is that I exited the shower having only shaved one leg...and with a new found liking of brushing my teeth while in the shower. I know...I didn't understand it before either, but...it turns out that if you aren't a priss when it comes to brushing your teeth, constantly wiping spittle off your chin...and yes, I would picture you using the word "spittle"...shower tooth brushing can be OK. I personally like to scrub them frantically while using my other hand to shave a leg. Well, it turns out that when the water rinses the froth off your chin, it travels down the front of your body, leaving you feeling minty fresh on your front half for a good part of the day. Who knew??

Oh right...back to my day...

I didn't take much time to decide whether or not I was going to abandon the shaving mission. By now my poor puppy was practically crossing his legs to go out. I ran down the stairs, still not dressed, since that skirt was out of the question with this one shaved leg. I ran back up the stairs, threw on a bathrobe, and went to the kids room. I now realize that I dressed them like they were still 6 months old. I mean...I didn't lay them down on the floor like I was changing a baby, but I physically stood them up, undressed them, and put their clothes on. I'm not sure why I was so alert to all this but I even noticed that I would tap each leg and they would lift it up, in and out of their clothes. Unreal. In my defense, they would need to wake up 5 hours before school started in order to be dressed on time if I didn't help. Even if I was not a Whore...for the snooze button that is.

Now we are on to Breakfast, and I am finally dressed, because I dressed while walking down the stairs. Turns out this multi-task was successful on both fronts. I got their breakfast ready and as soon as I put it down in front them, I say "Eat". I repeat the work "Eat" every five minutes or so until they are finished. I do this because...and I have tested it....if I don't they will drift off and think of something to ask or talk about and actually "forget" to eat. I need to verbally guide them to keep the pace right for catching the bus. I then have them brush their teeth, which surprisingly, they do without guidance...however, at some point intervention is required. Water can be distracting. Then I tell them to put on their shoes. I am a bit embarrassed to admit this, but my kids wear Velcro shoes, simply because tying of shoes in the morning would completely come between me and my snooze button. Go ahead...say it...Whore. I'm not proud. I'm also a little confused why I was embarrassed to reveal that, but not to discuss the whole shower tooth brushing thing.

In the end, my Lazy, causes them to appear Lazy, as they walk out the door just as the bus is rounding the corner down the street. The theme to Chariots of Fire plays through my head as they run in slow motion to make it to the bus stop. I stand in the door and lift my arms in victory. It is then that I realize my stairs/dressing multi task was, in fact, an epic fail.  I somehow, half assed it, and neglected to put on a shirt. The neighbors look on while trying to shield the eyes of their children. I'm sure that my nickname will come from an event like this....

Or, it will just come right from my blog. Given the number of times the words Lazy and Whore were mentioned here, I have come to the conclusion that I would like to remain without a nickname for the remainder of my days...

An Evening With The Ladies

I was going to use Girls Night Out 2, but that seemed a little lame. Besides, it's really not a sequel. The word "girl" to me indicates a child, or at the very minimum a much younger me. An Evening With The Ladies makes it sound a bit more refined...like we are classy broads, ya know? I should really just call it what it is...Moms Night Out . The rare occurrence of spending time with people who will not require cleaning, feeding, or refereeing. Although... that isn't necessarily a true statement, as I am pretty sure I have done all of these at some point when out with ladies.

Let me start with a little upfront information for the men out there. When a woman wants to spend a night out with her friends, please don't take it personally. It's not because she doesn't want to spend time with you, or that she's going out on the prowl looking for another man. It's just that there is something about being around girlfriends that revitalizes us. We need that time to just be ourselves and talk about whatever is on our minds. Believe me, you should be happy that we do not want to discuss most of these topics with you. For example, I know just as much about my friends "lady parts" as their gynecologists. Frequently used terms in our discussions include; uterus, discharge, menstrual cycle, and spotting. I could be wrong, but I'm guessing these are not things you would like to talk about, so that said...you're welcome.

Aside from all the gyno talk, we also discuss our kids at great lengths. We talk about our kids a lot anyway, but lately the discussion seems to be almost exclusively about them. We talk about sickness, including types of cough, such as dry, hacking, or productive. We discuss rashes as if we are pediatricians asking each other questions like "Did it start on the trunk and then move to his extremities?", and "Did it look like spots under the skin, or raised, fluid filled, bumps on the skin?" Then there is the riveting talk about mucus and which colors are good and which ones require medical attention. I promise guys, you're not missing out on much.

The most recent night I had out with the girls had a few elements that stuck out to me. First, we actually carpooled. That's right. We all fit in a vehicle together. Not because it was a small group, but because one of us had a vehicle that was big enough to accommodate us all.

Also, in anticipation of this event, I actually put myself through a training of sorts. In order to prepare for the hours of dancing I rode a stationary bike everyday the week leading up to our big night out. I had to build up some stamina. I didn't want to be embarrassed from becoming winded after dancing to two songs, or from clutching the back of my thigh screaming "I'm cramping!"

Next, was the fact that I did not bring a purse. I believe this is due to the fact that my kids are getting older and I don't feel the need to be overly prepared for everything. Plus, some of my friends still do have very small children. This translates to them having enormous purses which are more than capable of handling the few items I would like to take with me.

Also noticeably absent was the one lady that may have overindulged a bit too much. Either that or we have just become professionals at getting our drink on. No more holding someones hair while they puke, or dragging them off the dance floor because they are making a spectacle of themselves. If you were to look up the term "cock block" in the urban dictionary you would see that it gives a perfect description of the role of an inebriated woman's girlfriends. Gone are the days of having to form a virtual "shield" around a drunk friend on the dance floor to prevent her from falling victim to the guy that combs the bar looking for easy prey. Friends don't let friends get dry humped.

We've also become quite skilled at the art of avoiding a hangover. The key ingredients include a hearty helping of greasy food on the way home, a full glass of water, and two aspirin. Sunday morning we are up, dressed, the kids are fed, and we are on our way to church. We are practically professionals at this.

So ladies, if it's been a while since you've gotten together with your lady pals, what are you waiting for? It's a necessity. Plan something soon, it's good for the soul. Plus, don't forget to invite me...Of course my only motive is to gather material for my blog. Yeah, that's it. I like to think of myself as an investigative journalist...