Welcome to One Busy Momma! The Blog for Busy Moms by one Busy Mom.....

Welcome to my blog. One Busy Momma is my space to rant about my life and the things that happen in it. I have a crazy life - and instead of focusing on the crazy - I like to focus on the funny. Because if I focused on the craziness - well, I'd have been shipped off to an institution long, long ago. And while, I'll admit, there are some days when being institutionalized sounds PRETTY GOOD compared to making ANOTHER diorama at 1am - I'd rather be right where I am - in my messy house with my not so perfect kids making crooked dioramas in the middle of the night.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Welcome to the Tweens.....

Ahhh - spring. The trees are blooming, the grass is greening and my wallet is emptied. Yes - spring in Busy Momma's household is almost as nerve wracking and expensive as the month of December. Why? you ask. Because Spring - or more specifically, the month of April brings the birthdays of BOTH of Busy Momma's offspring. Yes, Jack and Bella's birthdays are separated by 6 short, sweet days. They were actually due on the EXACT same day - April 23rd. (PC claims that this is because he only gets lucky once a year.) But, Bella came early...the first and last time that little lady was every EARLY for ANYTHING and my awesome doctor induced Jack because he was fully cooked and I was done being pregnant while mommy-ing a 2-year old. Late in my pregnancy with Jack - I was basically a beached whale. And I had a VERY energetic almost 3-year old running me ragged. I would put her down for a nap...and the neighbors would call telling me that she was hanging out her bedroom window waving "hi" to the boys and girls getting off of the school bus. I would set her up with paints and paper and run to the bathroom while she was supposed to be creating a masterpiece...and I'd come out and she would have painted herself purple - or green and look at me and say "Look Mommy - I pretty!" One day she stuck a crayon in her ear to make it "pretty and colored on the inside".  She used to walk around with her hamper on her head...and all we could see were her little shins and feet sticking out of her white, wicker hamper as she bumped into and bounced off of the walls. She used to end her bedtime prayers with "God bless Nanny and Poppy and Unkey John...and please, please, please let me wake up with a mermaid tail." every single night. Ahhh...those were the days.

Fast forward 7 short years later...and somehow - my little girl who enjoyed painting herself with purple fingerpaint is now a tweenager! How did this happen? All of a sudden, she is saying things like: "Mom, can I download the Lemonade Mouth album onto my IPOD?" and "Mom, can we go and see the movie "Prom"?" And my personal favorite: "Why CAN'T I read Twilight??? I'm like the ONLY girl in my class who hasn't read it! And I am SO on Team Edward!"


Many of you know that Busy Momma and Crew are heading to the Happiest and Most EXPENSIVE Place on Earth in a few short weeks. And while booking the trip and making reservations, I stumbled across a NEW attraction that I was SURE my girl would be aching to visit - The Bippity Boppity Boutique. Apparently, for the low, low price of 18 million bucks, apprentices to Cinderella's Fairy Godmother will do your hair and makeup and dress you up like ANY PRINCESS or Tinkerbelle. Sign me up - take all of my cash...I'm in. As I am making the reservation, Bella walks up and asks me what I'm doing. I show her the website and explain that I'm making an appointment for her.

How do I explain the look that came over MY darling little princess...you know - the one who used to pray for a mermaid tail so that she could swim with Ariel? Let's pretend that I had her suck on a lemon and drink 210 day old milk at the same time. Get the picture? Can you see that puss in your mind's eye? And here is what my darling little baby - the one who had me in labor for 3 days AND came out upside down AND backwards AND  broke my tailbone for shits and giggles on her way out- said to me. Wait for it....

"Um - I TOTALLY hope that you're making that reservation for yourself because I am certainly NOT dressing up like a princess in front of like A MILLION people in Disneyland. Mom - I'm almost 10 years old here."


So I thanked the lovely Disney lady on the phone and told her that actually we wouldn't be needing that Royal Princess package complete with souvenier photo after all. Now, this did not bother PC in the least because, in his words, "Well, she just saved us about 18 million bucks." Not that the Royal Princess package was really THAT much...I mean it was ridiculously pricey...but I wouldn't have had to sell Jack into slavery for it.

So why can't I see it through PC's pragmatic glasses? Why can't I just be happy that I do not have to spend ridiculous amounts of money on licensed Disney paraphenalia anymore? Why can't I be thrilled that I do NOT have to contribute to that money-making machine that is the whole princess industry? Why am I sad every time I buy an outfit and can't but matching little bows and headbands and ruffled socks? Been there - done that!

Because I MISS that crazy little girl who thought she would wake up as a mermaid if she prayed hard enough! I MISS the little girl who believed in Santa and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. And don't get me wrong - I love and adore the wonderful young lady I have today. But I am beginning to realize that this parenting thing doesn't get easier as they get older...it gets harder and scarier! When she was 3, I was able to control and manipulate her entire world. And while that might sound crazy - I was totally able to keep her safe. I was in charge 24/7. Now - she is in school, at scouts, at parties....in other words - I am NOT in charge anymore. (Don't tell her that - she hasn't figured that one out.) I cannot control everything that happens to her. And that scares the heck out of me.

I just finished reading Tina Fey's new book "Bossypants". It's awesome - go and get it. And, if you've had more that 2 kids - a box of Poise pads. It's that funny. In her book, she shares a prayer that she has written for her daughter Alice. Again - pee your pants funny. And it inspired me to write my own prayer...

For Bella as she navigates through her Tween years:

Dear Lord:

Please guard and protect my girl as she grows into the beautiful young woman you and I both know she can be. Please help her navigate through the difficult middle school issues with strength and grace. 

May she always remember the lessons she learned at home and apply them in her daily life. May she never take crap from the mean girls in her class. However - may she be smart enough to never enter a fight she cannot possibly win. Lord, give her the strength and smarts to stay away from those 2 really mean biotches in her school. Those girls are for real. And they scare me a little.

May she never believe the "how babies are made" rumors that will surely surface in the next year. May she never believe that babies are made when 2 adults crawl, naked into a hole in the sand and emerge fully clothed at the other end of that hole, as her mother believed for far too long. Also - may she never start one of those rumors, because that would be really embarrasing. 

Dear Lord, please do NOT allow her to get sucked in by the "Giggle Patch". Please steer her FAR away from those girls who, at the tender age of 9 and 10 are already playing "WHO is hot and WHO is NOT".  The girls who pretend to giggle and fall over when a "hot" 10 year old walks in front of them. May she continue to understand and believe that 10-year old boys are gross and smelly and have gross smelling farts. Bevcause they are and they do. May she realize that the "giggle patch girls" are the same girls who geek out and fall out of their seats when they attend an all-girl Catholic High School and a boy walks down the hallway. Dear Lord, please, please please do NOT allow her to become one of those girls.

Please God - help her improve her taste in music. Even though Justin Beiber and Willow Smith are your beloved children...PC and I cannot stand listening to "Whip my Hair" and "Baby, Baby, Baby" one more time. So either improve her taste in music or render us deaf...I beg of you.

Dear God - give her the strength to continue to play with her Barbies and American Girl Dolls for a few more years. We paid alot of money for those things and really would like to get at least another year or two out of them. Please let her continue to think the BRATZ dolls are gross and have deformed lips. And while we are on the topic of lips - please let her continue to believe that Burts Bees tinted lip balm is actually lipstick. Thanks for that by the way.

And please please please grace her with her father's metabolism as she grows and blossoms into a young woman. Because if she keeps eating the way she is eating and if she is blessed with my metabolism...we're going to have issues - that's all I'm saying. Please spare her from the terrible acne that will affect her peers. However - if I have to choose chubby or acne - I'll take chub. We can always work that off but tween acne is a bitch to clear up. And while we are on the topic of genes...please please do NOT grace her with my thighs. I mean seriously - please don't do that.

And finally Lord, as we enter into this forbidden forest that is puberty - please do NOT burden her with getting her first period at school, in front of everyone. While it will not kill her, it will not make her stronger and it might lead to years and years of pricey therapy. Let her get it the way her mother got it - while on a trip, with her father, in a foreign country. And let her father deal with it...because what the hell else does the dad really have to deal with in the forbidden forest - huh?

And finally Lord, may she never believe:
  •  that a boy's thing might fall off if he doesn't "do it" before he turns 18
  • that she can get pregnant from sitting on a toilet seat that has a random sperm on it
  • that she can get pregnant from dry-humping
  • that all of the cool girls really do know what a BJ is in 5th grade
  • that the random slutty girl in school really did "do it" with an 8th grader last weekend
  • that boys will really like her and that she will be popular if she IS that random slutty girl
And finally Lord - give ME the strength to be THAT mom who will NOT have the bullshit in our lives. Give me the strength to call other mothers and be sure that an adult will be home during boy/girl parties. Give me the strength to be "that" mom who drags her ass out of the midnight  rated R movie that she snuck into when she was supposed to be at Nala's house watching "Anne of Green Gables". Give me the strength dear Lord to ground her ass from here to next Saturday morning when I catch her with forbidden substances...and may those substances be as innocent as clove cigarrettes and peach schnapps.

In your name, we pray...

Friday, April 15, 2011

Ass Purse..and other work-a-day things...

So Peeps - can't believe it's here again. Girl Scout Camping weekend. Wow, it seems like it was only 365 short days ago that Bella and I travelled deep into to the wilds of Harford County, MD to spend a weekend camping - and well - what do you know? Time to do it again. Tonight. Well isn't that just a crap-tastic kick in the pants? Not that I don't enjoy communing with nature and all of that stuff - but I don't . I really, really, really don't. And as the rancid whipped cream on this yulk-sundae, I am missing a nail appointment AND I lost a pinky nail today AND it is supposed to rain - ALL DAY tomorrow. So it's shaping up to be a great weekend. And by "great" I mean shitty.

However - it will NOT be any crappier than the week I am leaving behind. (And I think that perhaps, I just invented a new adjective in "crappier" - I'm not sure.) Oh no - not unless I do get poisoned ivy on my lady parts - see last year's camping blog - it will in NO WAY be worse than this past week. You see this week- I had the unique and distinct pleasure of personally visiting buildings in a ceratin school district that is, shall we say, not so scenic - or safe for that matter. Now, to illustrate how unsafe I felt in this particular place, I'd like to transcribe a conversation I had with PC this morning - just to give you an idea of where MY mind has been all week:

PC: "So where are you headed to day?"

Me: "Oh - to the 1800 block of "people murdered here every weekend" avenue. What about you?"

PC: "Uhhh - I'm picking up dry cleaning and having these pants let out a bit."

Me: "Cool. Have fun."

PC: "Um, are you sure it's safe for you to be going to this neighborhood by yourself?"

Me: "Oh, if you're worried about me being dragged from the car, beaten with lead pipes and then being fed to a pack of starving pitbulls - that would have been more appropriate to worry about on Tuesday. Today's neighborhoods might just involve a quick drive by shootiong or a more mundane car-jacking. Nothing too bad."

And here is the sad part - totally not embellishing that one. You know it's been a bad week when a potential car jacking seems "not that bad". When I started this 3 day excursion on Tuesday, PC jokingly said "Just get in and get out." I reminded him that the getting "in" and getting "out" parts were, in fact, the most dangerous parts of my workday.

But, like every ridiculous situation I find myself in - and I seem to find myself in a lot of these - there were many humorous moments interspersed with the terror. Like on Tuesday morning, as I waited to see the principal of a particular school - I was spit on. Yes, that is right - spit on. No, not by a llama as one might expect- but by a human being.  A lovely, darling and obviously precocious little psychopath - I mean cherub- as he was being dragged kicking and screaming into said principal's office. Yes, this little darling took one look at me in my Talbot's crop pants and Ann Taylor twin set and thought: "What's missing on her lovely little springy ensemble? Earrings - check. Necklace - check. Bracelets - check. Oh wait - I know - a lugey. Great - just what I've got." And he proceeded to SPIT on me. Precious - no?

After a series of Brillo pad and Lysol showers, I headed back onto the mean streets this morning to finish visiting my assigned buildings. And boy, oh boy - today did NOT dissappoint! I thought being spit on was exciting - but it pales in comparison to my ass purse. Yes - ass purse - more on that later. But let me tell you about the first building I visited. This particular building was obviously dedicated to employing former circus side-show performers. For every grown-up that I saw was covered in ink - the kind of ink that must be applied to the skin with a series of needles. And one of these heavily tatooed individuals greeted me at the front desk. And let me tell you - nothing says "Welcome to our safe-haven of learning" like being greeted by a woman whose neck is covered in tatoos. As I meekly asked to speak with the principal - she emerged from her office dragging a bored looking child after her and threw him into a chair while screeching, and I quote here: "If I was the police, your butt would have been taaaazzzzzed by now!" I decided that SHE was having a challenging morning and dropped my information on her desk and calmly ran, I mean sauntered, out of the building. At lunch time, while in another fine institution of learning, I heard the following words being gently yelled at a small child - who, incidentally was on his way into the cafeteria to eat: "Get your hands out your pants - that's nasty. Now you gotta eat off those hands."

Nothing puts me in the mood for a good burger like the image of dirty hands covered with hiney-germs holding that burger. Thankfully, I was able to swallow down the throw-up that came up into my mouth and I didn't embarrass myself by puking on the floor.

But, the BEST part of my day happened at the LAST school I visited today. And by BEST - I actually mean best. Totally, ball-busting BEST thing any kid has EVER said to me happened this afternoon - and this is how it all went down:

Me: walking down the hallway, looking for the main office.

Her: walking out of the girl's bathroom as only a self confident 11 year old girl who actually does know "it all" and isn't afraid to show it can walk.

Her: "That's one big purse Lady...not as big as your ass...but big enough."

Yes - she compared my Coach bag...which I'd call mid-sized - to the size of my ass. And yes, she was right - it is , indeed, NOT as big as my ass. Now, while many of you might have been angered or horrified by her fresh-mouthed assertion, I was not. In fact - I was QUITE amused.

Me: "Huh - really?" It was at this point that I took my purse and held it up to my ass and said: "Huh - you're right. It IS smaller than my ass. Cool - thanks for the info."

Now, while you might be wondering "Why wasn't she enraged? Why didn't she report this fresh-mouthed girl to the princiapl?" I was wondering: "Why would she associate my purse with my ass? Are ass sized purses the new trend? Is it only a hip hop trend? Or will this ass purse trend become mainstream? Will Vera Bradley be coming out with new printed, ass- sized handbags? WIll I have to buy the big one? Will it be mandatory to buy one in the size of your ass? Shoot - I really have to rejoin Weight Watchers if this is the new trend. I don't want to have to pay for the big girl sized Vera Bradley bag. Jesus - how expensive will THAT be?  "

WHY didn't I lecture her on the inappropriateness of her comment? Um - have you read the entire blog? This was the last place I had to be. And compared to the delightful things I'd seen and heard this week in the hallways of some of this nation's institutions of learning - this comment was BY FAR the FRIENDLIEST interaction I'd had.

Ok - so now I'm headed back into the woods. AND I was reminded this afternoon that I am NOT to bring booze this year. Apparently it's against some sort of Girl Scout rule. For the love of God - woods, bugs, rain,no heat, no AC, missing a nail appointment AND no booze? ?

Glad I have all of my stuff already packed in my gigantic ass purse.....

Sunday, April 10, 2011

The GREATEST Show on Earth!!!!!!!!!!!

Well hey there Peeps! It's been a while. Spring has spung here in Charm City, and that can only mean one thing....the circus is in town. That's right - every year Baltimore hosts the Greatest Show on Earth - America's Living National Treasure - The Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus during the end of March/beginning of April. And this year, Busy Momma and her crew decided to celebrate the beginning of spring, and Bella and Jack's birthday month by going to see the circus. I'll admit it - I LOVE the circus. And to be quite honest, I've been surprised at the number of friends and acquaintences who have told me that they HATE going to the circus! Shocking, truly shocking! Where else can you see elephants, tigers, acrobats, tight rope walkers, fire eaters, trapeeze artists and their death defying stunts all under one roof while drinking a $12.00 watered down coke and eating a $17.00 box of stale popcorn? Haters.

Anyway - yesterday was the big day. We had taken Bella to the circus when she turned 4, so she didn't really remember a whole lot about it. What she DID remember was being very afraid of the clowns, and she still kept a safe distance from the clowns she saw yesterday. Bella - being the first child - was taken to her first circus as a "Circus Celebrity". A "Circus Celebrity" gets to sit in the very front row AND gets taken onto to circus floor and sits in one of the three rings for part of the show. Pretty cool, huh? Unfortunately for Bella, when it was time to walk down onto the floor, a clown walked up to us and was to act as our escort. Let's just say that this was the day that we learned that Bella was afraid of clown. We learned it, the cast of clowns learned it and EVERYONE at the 4:30pm showing of the circus realized it as well. Needless to say, we opted to be regular circus audience members this time around. It was Jack's first time - and he was beside himself with excitement. And the circus did not disappoint. He was wide eyed from the moment the circus started until the very end. He loved the motorcycle acts, the tigers, the elephants, the cotton candy, the popcorn, the soda, the hot dags and of course - the spinny light. Poor Jack had NEVER been to an event that required the purchase of the $15.00 spinny light. How on earth has he reached the ripe old age of "almost" seven and NEVER been to an entertainment event that included a spinny light? So - yesterday he got the magical motorcycle spinny light. And Jack, being the rule follower that he is, spun that light like his life depended on it every time they dimmed the lights in the arena.

And it is at this point in the blog that I'd like to send a shout out to the dried-up, wizened woman who was sitting behind my wide eyed, excited, beautiful little boy. While I will never understand why you did not splurge and shell out the $15 bucks it would have cost to make your little darling happy with her own spinny light, it is not mine to ask. HOWEVER, when you go to a circus, and the adorable little boy in front of you holds up his spinny light during a BLACK OUT When YOU CAN"T SEE ANYTHING ANYWAY - try not to let your inner and obviously disappointed and troubled child out by telling MY SON to put his light down because you can't see. Might I remind you that unless you have spidey senses or "magical eyes" you can't see SHIT during a blackout and they tell the kids to spin their lights. So please crawl back under the rock you slithered out from and STAY THERE!

Other than that - Busy Momma and her crew had a WONDERFUL time at the circus! Much to Bella's delight - there was not one, but TWO ladies dressed up as Mermaids! Those meramids became aerialists who spun around on bright silver rings that hung from the arena ceiling. And as my children looked on with wonderment, and gasped in delight at the fearless and unbelieveably talented performers - Busy Momma's mind was whirring. The gears were in motion and I became obsessed with one question:

Who are the STUDS of the circus?

That's right - you read that right. For most of the circus, I wondered about the back stage hook ups. Who hooks up with whom? Now, being a theater geek, I am well aware that with every show, there is always a pecking order if you will of hook ups. So I began to wonder - who are the studs of circus life? Who are the most elegible bachelors on the circut? Here are my thoughts n this most important topic:

1. The tiger trainer? While the tiger trainer was kind of good looking and all muscle bound, I am going to say that No, the tiger trainer is NOT the stud of the circus. In fact - PC and I both believe that the tiger trainer guy is the "creepy wing man" of the studs of the circus. He's the guy at the bar who wears pants that are a bit too tight, a shirt that is unbuttoned a bit too much, a chest that is a bit too hairy and gives you the creeps the moment he makes eye contact. His pick up line is old and as stale as his breath. He probably hits on all of the girls in the chorus and winds up spending the night with the bearded lady.

2. The clowns? Obviously not. While I WAS impressed with the clowns who could juggle fire - and think that they are definitely at the TOP of the clown hook up pecking order - PC and I once again agree that clowns only hook up with other clowns. I think that is an unwritten and largely unbroken rule in circus life. I just can't see clowns co-mingling with the acrobats or the aierialists. I just don't see it happening.

3. Acrobats - hmmm. Tough one. While they are muscle bound - and bendy- the acrobats we saw yesterday were, for the most part, all dressed as sea urchin type creatures. They wore head -to- toe purple and neon orange bodysuits. This detail, while seemingly small and unimportant, is, I believe a huge "tell" in the back-stage hook-up pecking order. No self respecting stud would EVER wear a head-to-toe spandex bodysuit. Would he? I am making this decision STRICTLY on costume - but I am going to say that NO - the acrobats are not the circus studs.

4. The Motor-Cycle Men - now while it might seem an easy pick, as they wear leather and ride motorcycles and really are in ALOT of danger in the "Sphere of Death" or whatever they call that steel cage they ride around in - I'm saying no. Here is what I think - I think that the motorcycle men are NOT studs at all. I think they are a quiet bunch of very religious, very Catholic guys. They are supposedly all members of one family, they are from South America AND they are 3rd and 4th generation circus performers. So, I can't see being the big man-whore of the circus community while your parents and brothers and sisters are all on tour with you. I just don't see it happening. Not that they don't get any tail - I'm SURE they do - they just do it covertly and in the backseat of somebody's car or in the elephant cages, the way the rest of us good Catholics do.
5. The Tight-Rope Walkers - again - all one family. Don't see it happening with mom and dad in the act. Plus, these days, they are all attached to some kind of harness - so their act just doesn't seem a "death-defying" when you can clearly see the wires and you know that if they fall - they will just look like fish on a hook hanging from a pulley attached to the ceiling instead of plummeting to their certain death.

So who does that leave us with? Well, one very obvious choice and one not-so-obvious, but I think sure winner. Now according to PC - the studs of the circus are:

The Flying Trapeeze Guys and Girls.


Well because first of all - they save the flying trapeeze act until the very end of the circus - thereby highlighting their importance in the show. And let's face it - who DOESN'T want to hook up with the star of the show?  AND they can fly. I mean say what you will about them - but they are in AMAZING shape, they are all pretty great looking AND they can do amazing tricks. So PC and I both think that the absolute STUDS and hardest to get hook ups are the trapeeze guys and gals.

HOWEVER - I believe that there is another group of circus folk who probably get all of the best looking girls. And this will SHOCK you - but when you think about it - it makes perfect sense. Who do I think gets the prettiest acrobats, aerialists, contortionists and dancers to go gaa-gaa over them? Who makes the prettiest, most stuck-up girls on the circus circut go weak in the knees? Are you ready?

The elephant trainers.

Yup - the guys who take care of the real stars of the show - the elephant trainers. THINK about it. While these guys are not the most ruggedly handsome, muscle bound men you can think of - they take care of the circus' treasure and most beautiful and gentle cast members - the elphants. Taking care of elephants is NO easy task (or so I've been told). They don't get the accolades, they don't get the applause, but they are there every day taking gentle, loving care of those beautiful creatures. A man who can whisper to an elephant and get her to dance and lay down and  - well do anything - is a powerful, yet gentle man. And THAT will make the girls go wild. My theory is that the trapeeze guys have HUGE egos. And MY theory is that they go through cast members like the rest of us go through panyhose. They use them up and then - once they've gotten all they can from them - they ball them up and toss them out. And I dare say that some of the more seasoned ladies on the circus circut can see them coming a mile away. THIS is why the elephant trainers, in my estimation, probably get just as much if not MORE tail than the Flying Trapeeze guys.

Now as far as the girls on the tour - here is how PC and I see it. We think the easiest girls are the dancing girls in the chorus. Now, I will admit that I was a bit disturbed by how quickly PC blurted out "Chorus girls" when I posed the question. For those of you who DON'T know my PC - he spent YEARS doing show after show after show...usually as the lead (think trapeeze guy). Why he was able without a moment's hesitation to id the chorus girls as the biggest sluts on tour is a bit troubling. (Especially because in most of the shows I was in - I was a CHORUS girl! Hmmmm) We both think that the flying trapeeze girls and the girl who spins around in the air by her hair are the biggest bitches in the circus and thereby the hardest to hook up with. I think the contortionists are religious freaks.  Why ? I have no idea. But that's what I think. And any of the girls in the family acts are probably locked away in their circus trailers at the end of every performance because their older brothers know exactly how horny the other performers can get and they will KILL anyone who mars the honor of their little sisters.

So by now you all either think that I have a sure and certain mental problem because these are the things that ran through my mind all day yesterday - or you are laughing your ass off because you DO really know me and are not surprised at all that these are the thoughts that preoccupied my brain all day long. If my thought process disturbs you - keep this in mind.....if YOUR child ever runs away and joins the circus - now you will be that much further ahead of the game in preparing them for circus life. You see, PC and I would not be surprised AT ALL if Bella came home from school one day and announced that she was running away to join the circus. Sparkly costumes, mermaid tails and spinning while upside down at very high speeds while dressed in a sequined covered mermaid tail is simply an opportunity that my Bella would NEVER EVER be able to resist. So, in all fairness to me - these thoughts were simply me being a good mother. Trying to prepare myself for a future that might include nightly updates from the circus tent...that's all I'm sayin'.