You know you're in the Mother-Hood when...

You Know You're in the MotherHood When...

You've sniffed a spot on your shirt and been able to determine the origin of said spot with CSI efficiency.

You let someone see you basically naked because he said he was an anesthesiologist.

It's a good day if you actually had time to shower, without interruptions or an audience of any kind.

Your meal plan has consisted of eating whatever mac and cheese is left in the pot after you've served it to the kids.

A drawing of you with a head the size of a watermelon is the prettiest picture you've ever seen.

Everyone but you being asleep counts as "alone time."

You feel a sense of accomplishment if you read an entire article in People magazine in one sitting.

You can name 3 out of 5 Backyardigans - you know you can.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Negativity can be fun, try it, you might like it

Being negative is fun sometimes. I'll be the first to jump on that train. Who hasn't critiqued someone else's unfortunate outfit choice or uniquely horrendous driving skills? Sometimes a gal's just gotta vent, or else the elastic in our granny panties will blow like Old Faithful.
Recently, I have had an ongoing, annoying experience with a major retail chain that shall remain nameless. We will call it, Schmall Mart. I had ordered an item from those Do-It-Yourself kiosk photo machines and was attempting to pick up said item (after receiving a call from Schmall Mart telling me it had arrived.) First attempt, I arrived to the photo department only to be met with hand written signs posted everywhere that the photo lab was closed... sorry for the inconvenience. It took every fiber of my being (and those pesky security cameras) not to go open the drawer behind the counter to retrieve my purchase. I mean, I ordered it all by myself, with no assistance from a Schmall Mart employee, why couldn't I pick it up all by myself? Alas, my better judgment prevailed and I left empty handed, except of course, for what I bought as I walked through the store on the way to the photo lab.
Round two. I arrive at the photo department to, once again, find it lacking... oh what's that called? Oh yeah, STAFF. I am standing there, trying to decide if the pre-pubescent looking teenager working in the camera department or the scowling employee near the tv's would be the right person to ask for assistance. Really all I need is to borrow someone's blue vest so I can pop behind the counter and open that damn drawer! It's right about then when the one of the ladies that had been working on those crazy kiosks next to me stepped around the counter and instantly became a Schmall Mart employee. (I would have made this revelation sooner had she acknowledged my existence in the 10 minutes I was standing at the counter waiting, but alas, she kept the suspense up to the last minute.)
I handed over my claim ticket, explained that I had received a call three days ago that this item was here and watched as she looked through two drawers of envelopes, boxes and bags for my name. Nothing. Nowhere. Not there. "You say you got a call saying it was here?" she asked, as if I must have confused the Schmall Mart call with a call from my sister telling me about the pants she found on sale last weekend.
"Well, it's not here." Again, I envisioned myself leaping over the counter like an Olympic vaulter, pushing her aside and combing through those packages myself. But figured that was not the best idea, the most fun for me, but not the best.
Suddenly feeling like Schmall Mart was conspiring against me, forcing me to return time and time again so I would keep putting things in my cart on the way back to the photo lab, I called later that same day thinking that maybe someone else knew the secret location of my now phantom package. I got the manager this time, who looked and looked and looked. Nothing. Then, "Wait! What's that behind the refrigerator?" I knew it! My package WAS there and had slipped into some kind of Schmall Mart Bermuda Triangle.
"Oh, sorry, that's just an employee's jacket." Buzz kill. I then listened to the manager explain that he's been fielding several calls from customers claiming they received calls confirming their items were ready for pick up when they were not. What kind of bored Schmall Mart employee makes those kind of prank calls? Maybe I am judging too quickly, maybe someone named Spiffany Frizzle ordered something too, and maybe she has a phone number that's the inverse of my number but the employee is dyslexic so she read it backwards and called me by mistake. Yeah, that could happen.
At this point I am making so many negative observations about Schmall Mart photo lab employees that if I were in a tight fitting t-shirt you could call me Simon Cowell.
So now we come to the pivotal point in this tirade. My original claim ticket said that my purchase would be in today, which is May, 27th. I asked the manager if it would indeed be in as scheduled. He told me he couldn't guarantee that because the photo lab was taking longer than usual. The photo company, which rhymes with Sugi, downsized from 10 plants to 4 and apparently their kiosks sometimes lie about when items will be ready. So now I have hostility toward Schmall Mart, Sugi and the friggin' recession for my purchase not being ready. As if I need more to do! The manager is supposed to call me today as soon as the truck comes to let me know if this now very anti-climatic purchase has arrived. Of course, it's for my daughter's teacher, and it's a shirt all the kids were going to sign at a party today, for the LAST DAY of school - so if it DOESN'T arrive, my daughter's teacher will get a plain t-shirt with student's signatures on it today and a photo t-shirt sometime this summer. If it ever makes it from the Sugi warehouse to Schmall Mart that is.
So here I sit, surrounded by purchases I made at Schmall Mart on every trek out there - child's flip flops, Granimals t-shirts, new foundation (to cover the frown lines I have acquired this week from making so many trips to Schmall Mart.)
I am waiting, as if the photo lab was the maternity ward and that kiosk is giving birth to my silly photo t-shirt. If that baby is late, my inner Simon Cowell may rear his perfectly coiffed, tanned head. But, if I can honestly say that this is my biggest problem this week, then I can pour myself a glass of wine, that I bought at Schmall Mart, and sit back with some yummy snacks, bought at Schmall Mart, and lounge in the sun - with sun block on of course, that I bought at Schmall Mart and be glad that it's really not THAT big of a deal and wait for my next minor problem to come along. So I can vent. So that elastic doesn't burst. Or I'll have to go buy more comfy panties at, you guessed it, Schmall Mart.


Amy said...

Ok, I think I have a plan for you, but if it works you have to give me credit so I can ride on your coattails and have the off chance of meeting George Clooney. See, my idea is , get in touch with Ellen DeGeneres and get a once a week segment for your Momasaurus musings. People will love it, namely Ellen, because yall have the EXACT same sense of humor. OMG! This could totally happen, your realize, and when you become rich and famous, you can bring me with you to said Ellen shows so I can stalk George's nearby office. See, it's a win/win. Please keep writing. I LOVE it.

Jennifer Bohnart said...

I totally agree with Amy. you can also look into have some advertisements on your blog and it will make you some money... check out has great q&a's...learned a lot there.
love it...agree I cannot wait to read more!