Tuesday, May 29, 2012

A letter to my son's preschool teachers

Dear Preschool Teachers,


You know that preschool is my specialty.
You know that I am a teacher myself.
You know that I have experienced preschool in several schools in several different capacities.
You also know that this is my first time experiencing preschool as a Mommy.


You know my child well.  You know all the kids well, as any teacher should.  You know my child is funny, creative, talented and energetic.  You also know that he is difficult, stubborn and loud...but instead of trying to change him, you embraced him, and for that I am eternally grateful.


You know that my kid marches to the beat of his own drum...but instead of making him feel like he is different, you gave him a baton and let him lead the parade.


You know that my kid loves to tell stories...but instead of telling him to quiet down, you handed him the mike and let him work the crowd.


You know my kid has tactile sensitivity...but instead of forcing him to paint his feet, you let his friend step in and taught him a lesson about teamwork.


You know my kid has a hard time with other kids...but instead of letting him play alone, you took him by the hand and showed him the way.


You know my kid so well.


Did you know that at the Thanksgiving table, when asked what he was thankful for. he replied, "My teachers!"


Did you know that he beams with pride when he waters the bean that he planted in the cup?  Just like his confidence and love of learning, it blooms more each day.


Did you know that when he learns something new in school, we are at the library later that day taking out every book on that subject?  


Did you know that I will miss our chats?  You never rushed me when I needed to talk or vent about his progress.  You want him to be as successful as I want him to be.


Did you know that I haven't told him that school is ending?  I can't bear to see his tears and I am not ready to accept it myself.


Did you know that you will be missed dearly?  And while I don't want my boys to grow up too fast, I look forward to three years from now, when my teeny tiny baby goes off to his first day of preschool.  I'll turn to him and say, "Do you know how lucky you are?"  





Friday, May 25, 2012

All we are sayin, is give geek a chance!

So just this morning as the first beams of sunlight were coming through my window, I opened up my eyes, stretched my arms, and rolled over to face my husband.  He ran his fingers through my hair, looked into my eyes, kissed me gently on the forehead, and said those five magic words that every woman wants to hear:  “Happy Geek Pride Day, Sweetie.” 

You see, Valentine’s Day is nice and all, and his Mommy trained him well enough to know that he must not come home without roses and chocolate, but nothing gets my baby all excited like Geek Pride Day.
Yep, the gays and the pagans get their pride days, why not reserve a day for our geeks as well?  Be proud and get your geek on!  Let’s celebrate all of the sci fi weirdos who are not ashamed to dawn their flashing futurama belt buckles!

In case you are wondering what to do to mark this special occasion and keep your geek happy, I have compiled a list of geek-related items and have taken the time to rate them for you, so you know what is essential and what is total crap.  The rating scale is as follows.

Jar Jar: stupid, worthless or annoying
R2D2: useful
Jabba the Hutt: slimy or creepy

Yoda: Smart


So here are some things you might find in a geek household:

Canned Unicorn Meat

Rating: Jar Jar

While I realize the novelty of this item, I also realize that we live in harsh economic times.  I have no problem with killing little innocent unicorns and eating their meat, I mean, we all have to survive and we can all enjoy the delicacy, but the problem is that …brace yourselves…unicorns are fictional.  So if you are expecting real unicorn meat, you’ll be disappointed because it’s nothing more than a plush unicorn in pieces with fake blood splatter and plush toys can really screw up your sauté pan.  So if you are craving unicorn, I suggest you instead run to Waldbaums and get yourself some pork chops and just pretend it’s unicorn, which I hear actually kinda tastes like fictional chicken.

Murder Shower Curtain

Rating: Jabba the Hutt

I’m a little torn on this one.  I think it’s totally appropriate but only under the following conditions:  It must go in your guest bathroom and guests with heart conditions must be forewarned before entering.  This is not the guest bathroom you allow your future mother-in-law to use, because let’s face it gentlemen… if you have a future mother-in-law that means that you have actually taken time out of your World of Warcraft adventures to go and get yourself a woman and you don’t want to mess up what may be your only opportunity to settle down with someone who is willing to spend the rest of her life washing your Battlestar Gallactica boxer shorts. 

Polluted Toxic Waste Glasses

Rating: Yoda

We actually have a set.  These are our juice glasses.  I like them because they actually have a use.  I’m not a big fan of knick knacks that serve no purpose and just sit on a shelf and collect dust (cough cough – stuffed monty python attack rabbit – cough cough), however these are kinda fun.  Just be warned that they are made from a very thin glass and can probably shatter easily, especially if you are using them to make a toast and clink them together.  Hazaa!

Darth Vader Bank

Rating: R2D2

Pretty darn cool bank, if I do say so myself.  You need a place to put your pennies when saving up for that newest version of Mass Effect 2 anyway, so why not save in style?  This bank is so cool that I bought it for my brother and his wife as a wedding present.  (The gravy boat was already purchased from their registry.) 


Glow in the dark Star Trek Wall Decals

Rating: Jar Jar

Now I consider myself pretty open minded about what we keep in our home (I mean most people have their wedding picture in their bedroom but I have a framed Starship Enterprise), however there comes a time when you have to draw the line.  Nuff said.


Star Trek Dress


Rating: Yoda

Ladies – this one is made for you.  Forget the lace bustier.   Just throw this dress on with a pair of fishnets and your man will go wild.  You’re welcome.  (Hope you’re not reading this, Mom.) 

Wonder  Woman Lingerie


Rating: Yoda
Ladies – see above.  (Sorry again, Mom.)



So there you go.  Happy Shopping for the geek that you love.  May the force be with you all, and may you all live long and prosper!

Thursday, May 24, 2012

My friend has 12 pets - intro

My friend has twelve pets.  Well, at least she did.  I haven't been in her house in about 25 years, and I'd feel pretty weird if I called her to ask her about her animal situation years after the fact....so for the sake of this blog, lets just assume that she does.  "My friend has twelve pets" may be a simple five word sentence that your first grader might write as part of his spelling homework, but those words are famous to me.  It was the first sentence I impulsively uttered out when I became a TV star.

Okay, I'm not a TV star. I'm not even a D list celebrity.  In fact, no one outside of my immediate family would even understand the significance of "My friend has twelve pets," but that sentence is me in a nutshell. 

Watch the clip and see:



The year is 1982.  The show is Romper Room.  The lady is Miss Molly.  And the annoying, dimple-faced, pig-tailed kid in the red dress who incessantly interrupts Miss Molly until she is forced to respond...is me. Why did I insist she have this piece of information?  I have no idea...but my mom was thrilled because the camera man zoomed right in on me, and my grandma was proud to see me on television, and my two older brothers had many years worth of teasing material. 

So that's what this blog is about...not 12 pets...but me.  "My friend has twelve pets" is a totally random statement, and...well...I am totally random.  Or at least my writing is.  I like to write about random stuff...but the main person that this blog is for...is me.  Not you.  Not the 1 person who insisted I start a blog or the other 2 people that said that they might actually read it if time allowed and there was nothing on TV.  For those of you that know me, you know that I am not a professional writer...at all.  I actually kinda suck.  I took one writing class in college and it wasn't even specifically writing, it was writing for educators.  But those of you that know me know what I like, what I am passionate about, and what I would die for...coffee.  Oh, and memories.  I enjoy everything that is involved in memory keeping - taking photos, scrapbooking, and especially writing.  I find that after a big event I like to get my thoughts down immediately while they are still fresh in my head and this blog serves the perfect purpose, as a way to help me remember the little things...like how my newborn always turns his head to belch in my face while I am burping him or how the 4 year old always offers me his boogers after he picks his nose (what a sweetie)... and also to remember the big things...like when my boys one day become high payed doctors and buy me a condo in Boca.  You won't believe the look on my face when they surprise me! 

So this blog will sort of serve as a collection of my writing.  I have some old stuff that I will put up for you to share.  Some of my older stuff is much heavier from when my writing wasn't funny.  Life isn't as funny when you don't have kids...before you find yourself saying things like, "Please don't lick your brother" or "your penis is NOT a toy!"

I prefer to keep my blog anonymous and will therefore use fake names when writing about my family.  What goes on the Internet stays on the Internet.  Even though I do put some personal stuff on Facebook, I have a private profile and so only my 4,285 closest friends including the mail carrier and the cashier from Sears can see it.  I figure that it is best to keep my kids real names disclosed for a few reasons.  Consider the following scenarios:

Scenario 1: No one reads my blog.  It doesn't matter if I use first names.  It doesn't matter if I use last names or even social security numbers.  No one reads it - not even the 3 friends who were nice enough to lie and say that they would.  I become old and die in front of the computer with cobwebs in my hair resembling Miss Havisham while waiting to see if anyone comments on a post.

Scenario 2: You like me.  You really like me! Word gets around and I am the next Perez Hilton.  Next thing you know I am signing a book deal, doing appearances on "The View" and my third cousin's roommate's pet iguana is hitting me up for money, and because I have no backbone, i will give him the money, never hearing from him again, and then probably find out that the iguana has started a company selling unitards that makes it big and I will kick muself for not investing in shares when the price was low, and that damn iguana will act as though he doesn't even know me which proves that you should always draw up a legal contract when lending money to cold blooded lizards.

Scenario 3: (And probably the most likely) Ten years from now my 4 year old's buddies will google his name and find lots of dirt on him and I just can't bear having his friends tease him about how he used to jump out of the bathroom and scream "pooptini" every time he has a bowel movement.  (it's cute now but hopefully in ten years he'll outgrow it.)

So there you have it.  Enjoy....and in case you didn't know - My friend has 12 pets.