Mising Hoodie, Damn It!

Oooooh. I'm a little pissed off. I am really a pretty laid back mom as far as most things go. I don't really care where you eat as long as you clean up your damn mess. If things get broken, they get broken. They're just things. We used to say, "that's okay, Jack.....accidents happen" and he started saying, "accidents happen somehow!" Somehow indeed. Anyway, I try to not let most things Jack related get to me. PLENTY of other stuff gets to me. And how. See blog. I'm a little "prickly".  There is one thing Jack does that really bugs me and I'm not sure why. Losing things. Last year he managed to lose his ski jacket. HOW? How do you do that? I can see gloves, hats, even lunch boxes. That shit happens. But an entire coat? And awhile back, I noticed I hadn't seen him playing his Nintendo DSI. I asked him where it was and he got all fidgety. To his credit, he's not a liar. He said, "I think I left in the Pilates room that time I had to go with you before school started". Um, that was back in August. This conversation occurred in NOVEMBER. Me: "Jack, why didn't you tell me the minute you realized you may have left it there?" Jack: "Cause you guys would have killed me". Right. We're clearly homicidal. And such yellers! I've yelled at him once. Literally. And I'm not kidding. Clearly, it made quite an impact. Should start yelling more, evidently, so it's not such a shock. Maybe spontaneously. So he doesn't know what to expect. I think that's recommended in most parenting manuals. Keep 'em on their toes! Create an unstable environment! Makes 'em adaptable! Anyway, I ended up calling the rec center, and obviously it wasn't there. This really pissed me off because like the ski coat, it was expensive. It seems like at ten, you should be able to recognize and respect the value of your possessions. Maybe I'm wrong and am applying grown up values to a kid (see "Lost" blog.....I at least have the good sense to freak out when I think I've lost expensive shit) and should be more understanding. I didn't make a huge deal about it but let him know that there would be no replacement. When cleaning prior to Thanksgiving, it turned up in a couch cushion and there was much rejoicing in all of Christie Land. He hasn't really lost much recently, or so I thought. I was going through his closet and noticed that an extremely expensive Polo hoodie (the ones with the gigantic ponies.....I believe this was of the "Olympic Edition" ilk) was nowhere to be found.  Now, lest you think us to be complete maroons, this was purchased by his Uncle Skippy. Uncle Skippy buys him boat loads of Polo every Christmas and birthday. Uncle Skippy does not have children and only has one nephew. Uncle Skippy likes to spoil.  I'm sure the teachers at school must think we are total rollers 'cause Jack has been decked out in Polo since kindergarten. I feel like sending in a disclaimer saying, "We did not buy this stuff. His rich Uncle did".  His teacher last year nicknamed him "Ralph". Anyway, for Christmas this year, Skippy sent a pair of jeans, a button down and this sweet hoodie. Because they were too small, we exchanged them via mail. The new sizes came back with price tags on. The jeans? $150. Shirt was ridiculously expensive and I think the hoodie was at least $95. I about shit my pants. Now, because Skippy is a smart shopper, I'm sure these were all on sale. At least I HOPE they were. But still....expensive apparel for a young chap of ten. Jack saw the price tag on the jeans and said, "WOW! $150 jeans!" to which I said, "Jack, you might want to keep that under you hat lest people think that your parents are freakin' idiots". I'm not convinced he did because I sure do get some funny looks at school. Although that could be due to a variety of factors. So anyway, I'm looking for the hoodie in question. Me: "Jack, where's the Uncle Skippy hoodie?" Jack: "In my closet". Me: "No it's not". Jack: "Then it's at school". Great place for it. Dave goes in and looks in the lost and found (like it's going to last there) and checks in the classroom. Nope. El Losto. This pisses me off. He doesn't lose the cheesy t-shirt that makes me cringe......NOOOOOO. He loses the Ralph. Unbelievably chafing. Hopefully it's under a couch cushion and I can breathe easy again. Shit! 

Silver Perverts

Since I'm writing letters today, here's one to the "Silver Sneakers" at my gym!

Dear Men,

I think your sudden interest in reformer Pilates is awesome. It's really changed my body and increased my strength and flexibility tenfold. I cannot recommend it more highly. The fact that a group of you gather outside of our door, particularly while our asses are in the air or we're waving our legs around in straps is just a great show of support and enthusiasm! For some reason the day I wore those shorts that offered up a little too much information was of particular interest. Sorry our instructor had to shut the door. Anyway, guys, since most of you ARE OLD ENOUGH TO BE MY GRANDFATHER I think you should join us! It's an excellent pursuit for both the young and the young at heart. And that way you can get a closer look.  

Love,

Mollie

Dear Grady, You Suck

Dear Grady,

As I said to our Deep Thoughts readers yesterday, I really didn't need the $170 I spent yesterday at the vet. We didn't just have to pay property taxes on two houses on Friday or anything. Oh wait! Yes we did! And I really loved the fact that because I was so worried about your sorry ass that I missed my Pilates class, could not go for my walk AND basically got nothing done. All. Day. Long. And can I tell you how great it was that in spite of the expensive x-rays you underwent, the vet could not determine if you had ingested a foreign body so sent you home with prescription dog food AND antibiotics? Those were cheap! And Jack was worried about you at school. He really doesn't need to concentrate on his school work.......it's second nature to him. I'm sure you enjoyed the fact that the entire family was fawning all over you last night because you still seemed so punk. Well, I'm glad because you are not getting fawned over for awhile. At least not by me. When you POOPED OUT A CREW SOCK this morning, I ceased to have any modicum of sympathy for your ass, figuratively or literally. Grady, most readers will know that you normally throw UP your socks as a matter of course. This time, it made its way through your digestive tract! I imagine that must have been uncomfortable at best! No wonder you looked so green. Little bastard. And lest our newer readers place the blame squarely on my shoulders, we DO make a concerted effort to make sure no socks are left within your puppy clutches. Well, boy.....it seems that you are a bit of a "sock detective". I don't know where you're getting them from but you're getting them. Clearly. Perhaps we should hire you out as a Puppy Private Dick. Bottom line (no pun intended), that was one expensive snack. Thanks a bunch, Grades. Keep up the good work.

Love,

Mom

Yay, Readers!

HELLO, Deep Thoughts readers! Things over at HQ are chugging along quite nicely. We've got 412 facebook fans, 53 official "followers" on blogger.com and have surpassed 21,000 page views since November. That last number in particular strikes me as kinda nuts. This whole "blogging" thing is new to me. It really is dependent upon readers to get the word out. These things grow based on the "multiplier effect". The more readers I have, the more people will tell others, who in turn will tell others. It's like that dorky ass commercial in the 70's. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TgDxWNV4wWY "And they told two friends, and so on and so on......" I can keep cranking out the content but it's really important that I am able to encourage my readers to find OTHER readers. So, if you like Deep Thoughts, could you pretty please "follow" the blog, become a "fan" on the "Deep Thoughts From Mollie Christie" facebook "fan" page, share it, suggest it, tell those in your sphere of influence to check it out? That would be WAY cool of you. I LOVE writing about my silly life and I love that so many people are reading.......it's pretty awesome. So, it's in your hands. Go forth and preach the gospel, my people! I'll buy you all drinks when I start getting paid. Thanks, as always, to everybody who reads and who send me such nice emails......they make my day.  

Grrrrr....ADY!!!!!!

Well, I am now $170 lighter, thanks to my dog. And have I mentioned that my husband is a REAL ESTATE BROKER? Being a real estate broker these days is akin to be being on skid row. "Broker" being the operative word. As yes, we are WAY broker at this juncture owing to his profession. We had a meeting at school the other day and had to fill out some forms and we were asked if we WERE ON MEDICAID. "Um, while yes, it is true that Dave is in real estate, I don't think that things are so bad that we are now being insured by the same government program that allows for health care for HOBOS!!!!! Geez. Insult to injury? Anyway, as the day has progressed, Grady has been looking less and less like himself. Still not throwing up but won't eat, looks like he lost his best friend, won't even bother to jump on anyone or even bite them. So you KNOW something is very wrong. I take him to see our vet. I LOVE our vet. He's dreamy. I call him Dr. McDoggystyle. I normally don't have to pay so much for the pleasure, however. Seems Grady needed not one but TWO x-rays to determine if he had a foreign body lodged in his gullet. Dr. McD said, "you have NO idea how many socks I take out of Labs". Actually, I have an educated guess. I was personally wondering how many thongs he removes. From Labs. Mind out of gutter, Mollie.....I mean people. Anyway, the x-ray was inconclusive as not all foreign bodies show up on x-rays. So, relieved of my cash but with four cans of prescription food for doggies with indigestion and a prescription for antibiotics in case it's ghiardia, I have returned home. Grady is still ass-dragging around the house with a hang-dog expression. He's probably got some disease contracted from eating poop. Imagine that. I didn't need that $170. I never liked it anyway.  

I Am Mollie, Hear Me Roar!

I was at the rec center for Jack's last basketball game of the year on Saturday and I had an epiphany about the "Mom Jeans" thing. I don't know if all of these women that wear these jeans necessarily are oblivious to the fact that they are not flattering. Sure, some are clueless and just have a penchant for the mundane. I am becoming increasingly convinced, however, that some have an actual agenda. I think they are making a statement. I think they wear those jeans (and drive those mini-vans) as a badge of honor. By relinquishing their sexuality they become martyrs to motherhood. "I love my children so much that I not only no longer have a life outside of them, I want the world to see that I have surrendered my femininity in the process. I do not WANT to be attractive because that would indicate that I have an interest in something outside of these children. Like myself". And I've seen them look at mother's that actually look like they give a shit about their appearance with disdain. Like, "Well, look at you, you brazen hussy......in the time it took you to put on that make-up, I extracted a bean from two noses and drove four carpools". Oh boy. I've extracted plenty of shit out of noses in my day. And driven carpools. I just happen to give a shit about how I look. And you know what? I've still got plenty of time for my child. I'm not giving up on me. What does that say to your child? "I will raise you and you will grow up to have children of your own wherein YOUR life will then cease to have any meaning outside of those children". That's a bunch of crap. I love my child more than life itself but being is his mom is not all of who I am. I am ALOT of other things. And that's the message I want to send him. I'm a pretty kick-ass mom, but I'm also a friend and a wife and a daughter and writer and a designer and a volunteer. And a trouble maker, apparently. Not one of those things takes away from the other but make me who I am. Channeling every thing you've got into your kids isn't really doing anybody any favors, ESPECIALLY not your kids. So while some mothers may wear their "Mom Jeans" as a message to the world, I've got my own message: "I'm Mollie Christie and I'm not JUST Jack's Mom". You'll excuse me now, please.....my thong is giving me an uncomfortable wedgie. Although that's an oxymoron if ever there was one.  

Green Grady

NO, Grady is not recycling and driving a hybrid. We were all excited however, because we thought Grady had turned over a new leaf and was starting to learn how to behave himself with company. We had some friends over yesterday and they have a little girl who calls him "Gravy" and whom he simply loves to terrorize. Well, he was actually pretty chill. So chill that it was remarked upon. As it turns out, our excitement was for naught. He's SICK. And not as in, "Dude, that's SICK!" He was throwing up all night. At least once an hour. It's stopped this morning but he is looking pretty "green". Or a least as green as a black dog can appear. So far, no socks or hamsters have appeared along with the contents of his stomach. I actually wish they would because that usually makes him feel better. According to Jack, it's anybody's guess as to what he got into this time. Apparently he at some tortilla chips that fell to the floor, snatched a cookie out of the hands of a two-year old, consumed a stack of napkins, a music stand box, a Happy Meal toy and a shoe. Oh and a tiny bowling pin. And that's just what we witnessed and couldn't extract from his gnashing jaws. So really, it could be anything at this point in time. Old boot, license plate, human limb......the kind of stuff that comes out of sharks when they cut them open on docks. I'm going to keep a close eye on him and if doesn't start improving, it's off the vet for me and Baby Grades. Yipee. I love spending money because my dog likes to consume indigestible objects.