August 30th, 2010, posted by Marcie
Yakiddie-yak (verb): the revealing, honest, often insightful and always hilarious talk that gets blurted out of children's mouths
…that is very much worth repeating. Here are some good ones that the WoMo girls have collected over the last couple of parenting years:
My three-year old asked for a penny to throw into a fountain. After he did, I asked him what he wished for. “A penny,” he replied.
When my grandson asked me how old I was, I teasingly replied, “I'm not sure.” “Look in your underwear, Grandpa,” he advised. “Mine says I’m 4 to 6.”
I just went camping with my two sons. We kept the lights off until we were inside to keep from attracting pesky insects. Still, a few fireflies followed us in. The three-year old looks over and in a frustrated voice says, “It’s no use mom. Now the mosquitoes are coming after us with flashlights.”
My kids are very picky eaters, so the variety of meals in our house is slim. The three-year old finally asks me, “Mom, why is lunch made out of dinner?”
One day more...
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August 25th, 2010, posted by Aimee, Tags: Partying
Wining: the act of quaffing copious amounts of mid-priced Chardonnay with your girlfriends, bitching about work and gossiping about other friends’ marriages while the kids are somewhere terrorizing the house.
The combination of harried moms and white wine is well-nigh notorious these days, what with books like “Sippy Cups are not for Chardonnay” earning bestseller status and a TwitterMom Happy Hour making the New York Times. But I would argue it’s the working mom crowd who take this trend to the next level.
Here’s how it always plays out. Fridays roll around and the fog of a hectic, stressful work week begins to lift. By 4 p.m., your mind begins to wander: “Did I remember to pick up a bottle of La Crema at Safeway?” … “Do I have time to stop at Trader Joe’s on the way home?” Then the strategizing. How to combine a couple … okay, sometimes a few … glasses of vino with a more acceptable mom activity and get some quality time in with not only your kid, but your long neglected spouse and friends. more...
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Tags:Partying
August 19th, 2010, posted by Marcie
Freebie-Jeebies: noun; the angst and uneasiness that sometimes occurs when a working mom is unexpectedly left alone
It doesn’t happen often. But every once in a while, along comes an sudden space in time where a working mom will find herself on her own, without a single thing planned to do.
What the…!?!? Huh? Look around the house… no movement. Stillness. Silence. A beautiful yellow-orange stream of sunlight is piercing through the window. Fluffy dust bunnies are dancing on the hardwood floor.
“Hellooooooo?” Apparently, the hubby took the two screaming (albeit cute) wee ones to the park.
The silence is foreign. The house feels unfamiliar. Move a few cautious steps forward. Pause, take in a deep breath. Wow. That feels good. (An interesting fact about WoMos is that they often forget to breathe. Apparently, it’s low on the list of priorities.) Shoulders drop. Shock gives way to disbelief, then excitement. Look around again. Sure, the house is a mess — Lego shrapnel covering the floor, lunch dishes still in the sink, laundry overflowing. Noooo waaaaaay, the chores can wait! This, more...
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Eternalist: noun; denotes the neverending “To Do” list of any working mom.
The urge usually hits around mid-day on Sunday. While others are enjoying the sunshine by the pool or relaxing with friends and family, most working moms begin to develop an almost uncontrollable urge to get out the pen and paper (or pull up the outlook calendar on her phone) and start jotting down the inevitable to-do list for the week ahead. “Oh god, what time’s that meeting with the new client tomorrow? When did he say the deadline for that RFP was? Wait, isn’t Braden’s dentist appointment Friday, right at the same time as my practice group outing?” The thoughts of commitments and conflicting appointments washes over you, obliterating the joy of what’s supposed to be one of your only two days of leisure in a whole week.
If I can control myself until the early evening to pull out the “list,” the rush of pending doom is still inescapable when I finally pull open the calendar and grab a pen to plot out the days to follow. more...
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Tags:Juggling & Struggling, Time Is A Four Letter Word
When-it-Was-Hot: term specifying the specific age at which someone was at their peak of physical attractiveness; often used to describe a formerly attractive school mate and member of the opposite sex, e.g., “23 – yep that was Jeff Smith’s ‘When it was Hot.’”
The sad part about getting older is that it sneaks up on you. One minute you’re the girl who turns heads at the bar and can talk her way out of any traffic citation, and the next you’re, well, sorta just a boss and a mom who’s faded into the woodwork.
Even more pathetically, for those of us who work in offices surrounded by childless 20-somethings with fast metabolism and time to go to the gym and enjoy happy hour cocktails, it’s often easy to forget that your beauty’s expiration date has passed or is coming soon. There you are with the crew, ogling the latest Vanity Fair spread with Robert Pattinson and debating the merits of Kristen Stewart’s Bella when boom, it hits you. Should you run into “R-Patz” on the street, he would look at more...
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Tags:Looks: Is This Mirror Working?
Sleepgasm: noun; the intense emotional sensation experienced after an uninterrupted eight-hour sleep for any working mom. Also known as the elusive “Big S.”
So, I finally, nearly achieved the big “S” last weekend. Sure, it was more like seven hours of slumber - but it was a somewhat glorious stretch in a bed without a blaring alarm, crying child or groping spouse. Too bad it took being hooked to an IV in a hospital bed, drugged up post-surgery and literally listless from hours of HGTV to achieve that. Oh, and the little yellow pill the nurse delivered in Dixie cup before lights out.
The story behind the forced downtime not surprisingly says a ton about the typical WoMo habit of putting her family’s health in front of her own. Like most working moms, I honestly don’t have time to get sick, let alone get into the doctor for every little ache, pain and sniffle I experience. And on the annual visits I force myself to squeeze in, I consistently skip the pesky “blood work” assignment the doc slips me on more...
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Tags:Juggling & Struggling, WoMo Book (untitled)
