If you think I'm sexy

You would be wrong. J. and I went to a Halloween party this weekend. It was hosted and attended by parents from A.'s school. The theme was movie themes or celebrities. J. and I racked our brains for weeks trying to come up with the perfect costumes.

For some reason, adult women believe that Halloween is the one time of the year that it is okay to dress like their inner slut. Unfortunately for me and J., I have no inner slut. We arrived at the party to find Supergirl in a mini skirt and shiny knee high boots, one of the vixens from the Austin Powers movie, a buxom Pamela Anderson, a pregnant Britney Spears in a short skirt and even Marge Simpson in a strapless dress. I arrived wearing a potato sack.

J. and I decided to go as characters from Monty Python's Holy Grail. He was the Black Knight and I was King Arthur. J. even had some sex appeal. When wearing the black mask, he looked like a one armed dominatrix. I carried a white bunny. There was one other woman dressed as a man. She was the police officer to her husband's Larry Craig. However, even she looked like a feminine cop. I was wearing a potato sack. Did I mention that the potato sack also stunk? At one point, someone sniffed my costume.

(Getting the bunny was a feat in itself. A. wouldn't let me borrow it. I tried to guilt her but it was a no go. When I went to get the babysitter, J. put the kids to bed. I waited until she was asleep, snuck in and stole it. Sad.)

We had fun at the party. Everyone thought I was Joan of Arc. Once I explained who I was I got to listen to every quote from the movie. There was a creepy man in a spandex Spiderman costume. He was about 4 foot tall and followed me around all evening quoting the movie. Weird.

Finally, at the end of the evening, it was time to call it a night. There was definitely going to be fantasy sex happening at various homes. Husbands were filling their wives' drinks at a frightening rate. J. and I went to Del Taco for chili cheese fries.

Here's What You Do

A. is having some issues at school with a "mean girl". This little girl who I will refer to from now on as "Heather". Well, Heather has been picking on my little girl. So, we've been having conversations about bullying and how to stick up for yourself. I called my mom to help because my first inclination is to tell A. to punch her in the throat. That way, you get it out in first grade and no one messes with you for the next 7 years. I mean she gets suspended for what, three days. No biggie.

Well, I know that my mom will probably have more constructive advice. I talked to J. about it. He doesn't understand "girl world" or "woman world". He thinks I need to call the mom and tell her that her daughter is a shit. Can't do that. I suggested that he call the dad and take care of it in "man" words.

All this time I never thought to talk to C. about it. He sat quietly and didn't give his input until last night. He turned to his sister and said, "Listen, this is what you do. If she is being mean to you, you look her in the face, yell PAAAAAAAAAA and turn your whole body."

Who knew it was that simple?

Tantrum from Hell

C. was really angry last night. He threw himself on the floor and was yelling at the top of his lungs. That, of course, is nothing new. However his tantrum was a little different this time.

C: I am mad at you Mom.
Me: Okay.
C: I hate you Mom.
Me: Okay.
C: (Getting more angry) I hate GOD!!
Me: Okay.
C: I HATE JESUS!!
Me: Okay.

I did not correct him. That's between a boy and his maker. I got no dog in that fight.

Hugs not Drugs

A. can read. This is starting to pose an issue for me. Driving home last evening we passed a DARE poster.
(wait for it, wait for it....thanks Dee for that precise description of what the process of a child thinking feels like)

A: Mommy, what are drugs?
Me: (pretending not to hear her to buy some more time)
A: Mommy, what are drugs?
Me: Well, they are things that people use and it makes them do bad things.
A: What kind of bad things?
Me: Ummmm (wishing a Shrek song would come on for a distraction)
Sometimes when people use drugs they steal and lie and hurt people.
A: Is there a store where people buy drugs?
Me: (how do I explain the whole "dealer" concept to a seven year old) No, honey, someone has to go to a person called a dealer. That very bad person sells them drugs. (remembering that her father used to sell pot in college)
A: What do drugs look like?
Me: They can be a pill or a powder or something that looks like a cigarette. (geez girl give your momma a break)
A: Why do drugs make people do bad things?
Me: Well, drugs make your brain think differently and so some people will do bad things. IT IS AGAINST THE LAW TO TAKE DRUGS! YOU WILL GO TO JAIL!!! (want to get that out so C. hears its)
C. then interjects: I won't take drugs because it will make my brain not be a circle anymore.
Me: ummm, okay.
C: Master Splinter (from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) blah, blah blah blah Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles blah blah blah (he may already be on drugs)
A: Can kids go to jail?
Me: (now I gotta explain the whole concept of juvenile detention) Yes, it is called juvenile hall.
A & C: (in unison) juvenile hall?
Me: (this is getting out of control) Yes, juvenile hall.
Me: If someone ever tries to give you drugs you just say no and then tell an adult.
A: What if someone throws drugs at me and I get powder all over me? Will I go to jail?
ME: Well, no one will throw drugs on you. (they cost too much)

Then as if God was looking down on me and decided that I suffered enough A. got a new thought:

A: Mom, can I wear my costume when we get home?

Sooooo, I may be fat

The weather is changing and it is time to break out last the jeans from last year. WELP, I got fat. I know that I have gained weight. I, however, have been able to keep myself from the true reality by wearing skirts this summer.

Truth punched me in the throat yesterday in the form of jeans that used to fit. I went through the list of reasons why they didn't fit:
1. I'm bloated (I don't know if you actually gain water weight in your thighs)
2. The jeans shrunk. (Little known fact that jeans in a drawer constrict)
3. I always hated those jeans anyway and was going to throw them out.

So, I headed out to buy some new jeans. I don't like to spend more than I have to on jeans, yet I am in a constant search for that perfect pair that I had 10 years ago. (mind you I was a size 4 and everything fit perfectly) Well, I happened on to some very expensive designer jeans at my favorite discount store. I picked them off the rack and went to try them on.

I get into the dressing room and catch a glimpse of my body. BLECHHHH!!! Something about the wraparound mirrors and the dressing room light caused my thighs to look like marsh mellows. BLECHHH! Anyway, I pull the jeans up. I didn't realize that the rise of the jeans was about 2cm long. They were little more than legs with a crotch. I turned to see that my ass crack was accompanied by my whole ass hanging out of the top of the jeans.

I handed the jeans back and went to look for something else. I found another pair with more fabric. I hoisted them onto my arse. They were tight but I could get them buttoned. I turned to the view from the back. ARGHHHH!! I had the butt pinch that turns into the butt wink when you walk. Too old, can't do it. I have not given up yet. I go up not one but TWO sizes. Then I realize, I am tooo vain to do this.

I go to another store and another store and another store. NOTHING FITS!! Defeated, I return home. I get online and look at LL Bean. They have mom jeans.