Archive | May 2011

Ah, “Baby Bullett” so unnecessary, and yet so enticing.

]You know how sometimes when an infomercial plays, you scoff at first glance because you are a completely practical person that does not need the crap that they are trying to sell you? Well, actually there are plenty of people who relish any crap that people will sell you. However, I pride myself on not falling for buying stuff I don’t absolutely need.

The first time I saw the ad for the Baby Bullett, I was immediately transfixed, but this may be in part to my long running obsession with the original Bullett. Although both are basically blenders, they seem so fun to use, perhaps the title itself, which promises intense power. Not to be all Tim the tool man Taylor about it, but I love me some power.

In any case, this super blender allows you to mash-up the fruits and vegetables that you could pay a lot to have all prepackaged and provided by Gerber, or you can make your own. Now, the obvious reality is that people have been making their own baby food for years with little to no help from such a machine. This one also comes with little jars that you can place the date when made on a dial that encompasses the top. The date feature is neat, not nearly as amazing as the girl in the video finds it, it’s as if she discovered there was this thing called gravity.

Again, all of this can be done with a blender, or better yet, a food processor, but it’s so darn cute! They put an adorable smiling face on it, and make it a lovely shade of sea-foam green to make it extra appealing. Should I get one? I don’t know, maybe if I see it on sale at Target some day and am defeated by plenty of money to spend but nothing else that catches my eye. Not usually a problem. But alas, when that day comes, I won’t have any use for the Baby Bullett because most likely, I will not have a baby anymore, but merely a toddler that wouldn’t eat mashed up food anyway.

Advertisements

“Your baby has a rash! Call the Doctor!” and other statements from an alarmist grandmother.

When I was a child, my friends thought my mom was the coolest. She was a mother that would always okay a sleepover and buy me anything I wanted, although I was a kid that rarely asked for stuff. One morning after a truly fantastic sleepover, my friends were amazed when my mom allowed us to have a gourmet breakfast of cold pizza, M&M’s and Coca Cola. Although such a diet was a key component of why I was overweight as an adolescent, my friends thought she was the coolest. A mother that doesn’t give a bedtime, never says no to going to a friend’s house, and allows her children to watch rated R movies? isn’t that the picture of perfection when you’re a child?

Well, the lack of limits that were placed on me and my brother did not make us spoiled brats, which is a shock in its self. We are both relatively structured adults who know responsibility and a proper diet, more so than my mother actually. Where did we learn this? who knows. Without a father around, perhaps it was partly the influence of our grandparents, who lived next door.

Most parents act nervous about everything their child does, and once they have grandchildren, they calm down a bit and just enjoy having them around. Well, my mother went the complete opposite route, constantly worrying that something is wrong. Now not everything has changed, she still brings over ridiculous amounts of junk food and gives them to my son before I can feed him his dinner. She constantly buys him things that he doesn’t need. In many ways, she is still the carefree grandmother who doesn’t care

Recently my daughter developed a rash on her face, mostly it looked like a patch of dry skin. My mother bothered me every few hours to ask me if I called the doctor. Now that my mother has discovered the beauty of text messaging, she has found an even easier and more passive aggressive way to irritate me. In th end, I hesitated making an appointment, mostly because the many times I attempted to call the doctor, all lines were busy. It’s great to have the best pediatrician in town, unless you expect to get an actual appointment. Not surprisingly, the dry patch cleared up in two days and all was well. New issues arise every day. Today my son is in pain and has a red anus, poor kid. Always something. So for tonight, I keep him away from citrus and check on his stool to make sure he doesn’t have worms. The joys of the internet, giving modern mothers the impression that they may have some idea what the hell is going on with their child. Alas, a mother’s job is never easy and never done.

<img src="http://images.demandmedia.s3.amazonaws.com/verify.png?id=B83QNpGUMTQx2eHFqdb3Xut" 
alt="" style="width:1px;height:1px;border:0px !important;" />

Back to writing

   It has been a while since I have posted, for a myriad of reasons, none of which are even reasonable. There are times when I get so distracted with life that I can’t seem to buckle down and focus on other things. As a mother, it has become increasingly difficult to be the same scatter-brained and flighty nitwit I have been in my youth. Although I  am still plenty youthful, being a mother and a divorce’ does tend to make one considered a trifle more adult and equipped to handle multiple life circumstances that are thrown at you. I always think of a line from the movie “One Fine Day” which features Michelle Pfieffer as an overwhelmed mother of an adorable little boy who says something about how she has balls in the air that she is trying to juggle and if she drops one then they all go down. I get that but for some reason, I have always struggled to juggle multiple things in my life without dropping something.

I won’t get into the reasoning for my somewhat lackadaisical attitude that I have been sporting lately, because I am hoping that I have reached the end and will get back to the more important things in my life that need to be handled first. My children are growing up so quickly that I feel that I should have guilt issues when I want to get out of the house for the day and be a grown-up. But alas, we all know that you should not feel guilty for wanting to feel like yourself rather than just a mother who is the shell of her former self.

As I am writing this post, I realized how scattered I truly am, seeing as how the post went into a completely different direction than what I had originally intended it to be. The point remains, I hope to get back to regular postings and be the best damn mommy blogger I can be.