Magnificent Obsession

I wrote last fall about Audrey's new obsession with cartwheels. Well, it hasn't faded, and, as a matter of fact, intensified to the extent where I decided to try to have it do us some good.

I enrolled her in a gymnastics class at our park district, and so far she is doing well...hanging with the normies and everything! Read all about it HERE on the Patch!

When I Get Older...

Audrey's been talking a lot lately about things she's gonna do "when she gets older". Which for the most part amounts to all of the things that I won't let her do right now...plus some other weird shit.

Audrey: "When I get older, I'm going to..."

• Have a doggy and a kitty.
• Walk my doggy and kitty.
• Work at school and get to use the teacher's bathroom.
• Buy cupcakes, mac and cheese, cookies, candy, cake pops, whoopie pies, hot chocolate, marshmallow pops, cheese sticks, donuts, caramel corn, cotton candy, pizza, french fries, ice cream...
• Work at the yellow house down the block. (me: *?*)
• Drive. (me: *Oh Lord*)
• Have a baby in her tummy (me: *sob*)

Who Cares Why Manhole Covers Are Round?

My latest Patch article follows on my last one about my (so far) half-assed job search. Have you heard of these jackass interview questions that are like the riddle of the Sphinx? Have you ever been asked any weirdo questions in an interview? Do I really have to be prepared to answer questions like these?

The whole thing makes me so tired I think I'm going to take a nice long break from barely looking for a job...

Click HERE to read more!

Popping My Chuck E. Cheese Cherry

Somehow I managed to make it through nearly 8 years of parenthood without having ever crossing the threshold of a Chuck E. Cheese. But that all changed last weekend. Audrey was invited to the birthday party of one of the boys in her self-contained classroom at this notorious establishment.

Everybody has to experience it at least once, right? I just crossed my fingers and prayed that all we would come away with was blog material, and not, say, an antibiotic-resistant strain of dysentery.

The one handy part about being a total pessimist/cynic/mortal dreader of everyone and everything, is that things are sometimes not as bad as you thought they'd be. And this was definitely true for Chuck E. Cheese. I actually didn't think it was that bad.

It was, of course, the definition of sensory overload, and it took Audrey a while to acclimate to the combination of hordes of noisy kids, flashing lights and noises from the arcade games, an animatronic band of costumed animals, blaring music and video screens, and the sweet, sweet smell of all that pizza and cheesy bread.

Plus, she was seeing classmates outside of their usual context, which always freaks her out. But besides Audrey and Chris, the birthday boy, there was just the famous Jack in attendance. So it was a small party. According to Chris' mom, Chris said that Audrey is his girlfriend. Given that she's the only girl in a class with 9 boys, I think she's everyone's girlfriend.

Party of three

I couldn't get Audrey to stay in one place for long enough to play many of the arcade games. She did like one that sketched your portrait....

The Three Faces of Cheese

I asked her what she was so worried about in the picture on the right, and she thought that was hilarious. Now she keeps looking at it and saying, "What was she so worried about?" while laughing her head off.

Everyone told me that kids tend to be mortally afraid of The Master of Ceremonies when he finally makes his appearance. My nieces, who are now 16 and 20, have still not gotten over their fear of costumed creatures. I guess that's one way to ensure your kid doesn't become one of those weirdo plushy fetishists. There's little that doesn't cause Audrey anxiety, but somehow she was not afraid of Chuck E.

Future plushy   ^^

And of course it's not a party until Audrey smells your cake...

When it was finally time for the big finale and singing "Happy Birthday", I think the birthday boy reflected the feelings of many of past, present, and future birthday honorees...

Briefcase Full of Blues

2012 will more than likely be the year that I return to work after seven years off from full-time employment.

If I am to believe every article ever written about working motherhood, I am doomed to a life of debilitating stress and crushing depression upon returning to work.

Click HERE to read all about the secret to avoiding that all-too-common fate.

PS: I will actually be posting a non-Patch post this week...if there is anyone still out there who cares *sniff*

A Very Special Winter Break

How's winter break going for everyone? How do your kids do with two weeks of unstructured time off?

For us, it's not as bad as it used to be, but it still takes a concerted effort to make sure that there is some semblance of a schedule.

Click HERE to read all about my past winter break FAILS...

The Downers Grove Christmas Tree Is...

Last year, I wrote a post called "The Downers Grove Christmas Tree Is Rubbish" which got me some attention in my hometown, led to my column at the Patch and a writeup on my blog in the Chicago Tribune Local, and garnered me riches and fame beyond my wildest dreams. Well, two out of three ain't bad.

I thought I should carry on with the tradition and say something equally inflammatory about my town's Christmas tree this year. I'm not nearly as famous as I need to be, so I figured that I had take it up a notch or five. So for the 2011 edition, I will say that The Downers Grove Christmas Tree Is...RACIST! Whaaaaat? Shut your mouth! Oh no you di-int.

EXHIBIT A:

Mrs. Claus or...Mrs. Butterworth?
You decide.

The white face isn't fooling anyone.

OK, so maybe I'm painting Mrs. Butterworth with the same brush as Aunt Jemima. Is Mrs. Butterworth as racist an image as Aunt Jemima? Is Mrs. Butterworth even black?

So I Googled it and found a blog called Yo, Is This Racist? I can't find anything on the site about the person running it, but I'm willing to accept him/her as the final arbiter of what is racist...I mean, he's got a blog right? And a submission box labeled "Yo, Ask Me If Something Is Racist". And when someone named Anonymous asked if the Mrs. Butterworth bottle was racist, he/she answered as follows:

"Holy shit, yo, that shit is astoundingly racist"

He said "shit" twice. Case almost closed. I have one more photo to submit into evidence, but first some-not-nearly-as-offensive-as-racism-but-still-offensive ornaments:

Cyclopean gingerbread man
with a scrotal piercing

Special needs parents could have supplied
enough materials for a treeful of these.

I'd like to think that I had something to do
with the abundance of plastic wrap this year.

Poor Mr. Bill.

Owen does not read my blog or he would
know that old AOL CD's with a couple of
Christmas stickers do not decor make.

I swear it was not me that pulled
back the tin foil on this one.

My annual dough-based-ornament-gone-bad
Rorschach test.

And finally EXHIBIT B proving definitively that the Downers Grove Christmas tree is racist: