Saturday, January 17, 2009

Serenity Now!

Frank Costanza says it best when he screams, "Serenity now!" in the middle of a stressful situation. I'm going to start doing this as well, since I clearly need a mechanism for coping with stress. This morning we had a cheerleading competition that turned out to be a disaster. Here's a recap:

6:30 a.m. Wake up, shower, burn CD of competition music
7:00 a.m. Put the kids in the tub, construct four messy buns, find four white socks, head downstairs
8:00 a.m. Attempt to get the kids to eat
8:10 a.m. Listen to CD four times to verify proper working order...check!
8:31 a.m. Don shoes and coats, grab gigantic diaper bag full of baby gear, cheerleading gear, children's entertainment items, food, etc.
8:45 a.m. Load three carseats into my mom's Suburban, hit the road
9:30 a.m. Arrive at competition, register, and enjoy one last moment of peace and quiet
9:55 a.m. Escort twelve two-to-four-year-olds through a maze of screaming tweens, cranky and obsessive parents, and idiotic competition staff members to the practice gym for warm-up
9:56 a.m. Answer Adam's call to tell him where to be to watch the competition while helping six Tiny Tot cheerleaders build a pyramid
9:58 a.m. Answer Adam's call to tell him to wait outside and I'll find him and give him his ticket
9:59 a.m. Get kicked off the practice mat before our turn is over because the competition is ahead of schedule and we're supposed to be on the performance mat in the other gym
10:00 a.m. Drag my two crying daughters and ten other cheerleaders to the performance gym and run onto the mat
10:01 a.m. Convince all twelve girls to assemble in their formation instead of standing right next to each other
10:02 a.m. Start the music, do the routine in front of the mat, instantly freak out when the music stops playing halfway through
10:03 a.m. Coax all twelve girls to finish the routine even though the music has stopped
10:05 a.m. Head out to the commons to find Adam standing there, missing his Bar prep class, waiting for his ticket so he can watch his daughters perform (who had just performed)
10:06 a.m. Fight back tears for being a crappy wife while explaining to seven frustrated moms that I don't know what happened to the music
10:07 a.m. Assemble 12 Mini cheerleaders and escort them through a maze of screaming tweens, cranky and obsessive parents, and idiotic competition staff members
10:15 a.m. Realize my practice stereo won't work and take the Mini cheerleaders through their routine twice without music (no stunts hit, they couldn't remember their formations, and we didn't know which way we would face in the gym)
10:20 a.m. Run on the mat and direct traffic to get everyone in their proper places
10:21 a.m. Kneel down and flail frantically while trying to get the cheerleaders to catch up with their music
10:22 a.m. Music stops again; girls run around with no clue of what to do while I'm whisper-screaming "Keep going! Keep going!"
10:23 a.m. Fight back tears again
10:24 a.m. Leave the gym, move to commons to regroup
10:25 a.m. Face four more frustrated moms and secretly avoid one mom on purpose (what can I say...I'm a wimp!)
10:45 a.m. Move three carseats from the Suburban to our Honda, pack the double stroller, the gigantic diaper bag, the broken stereo, and a bag of 48 pom poms into the trunk while listening to three kids whining and crying
11:00 a.m. Head for home with an immense stress headache
11:37 a.m. Adam (who hasn't slept for 36 hours) falls asleep while driving and we narrowly escape a wreck
11:43 a.m. Walk through the door and contemplate faking a collapse from exhaustion a la Paris Hilton and/or Mariah Carey
2:40 p.m. Blog about it for some well-deserved therapy and closure

A Very Strange and Distrubing Dream


I fell asleep while lying down by Karli tonight. I don't know what conditions manifested in my subconscious to produce such a weird combination of ideas and occurrences, but the result was a truly disturbing dream that had me awake and nervous after only an hour of sleep. Hence, I sit at the computer for some blog-therapy since I don't want to risk having another dream like that, ever. It was way too creepy and involved me as a volunteer at a mental hospital where my patient slowly turned into a character who looked like Gollum on Lord of the Rings and became more weird and invasive every day. This thing, named Zoal, had problems that started showing up in my own kids and eventually, everyone with whom I associated at the hospital was suffering from Zoal's afflictions. Add to this the presence of several of my cheer students wearing sparkly, royal blue leotards and tutus and you'll know the level of my psychosis. Shudder.

Yes, I AM Getting Implants

Someday soon! If you are TMI-phobic, then read no more. I weaned Rex over the past month and can safely say that my upper body has finally settled into its postpartum shape (or shapeless, in this case). The metamorphasis must be done now because frankly, there is nothing else left to disappear. It is completely depressing and has me wondering if breastfeeding really is worth the sacrifice. I wasn't even this small in ninth grade! For consolation, I guess I'll just dream about being on the show Dr. 90210 (Dr. Li is my hero!). I can lead a rich fantasy life, right?

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Clark Family Phrase-ology

Obviously, my kids say some pretty funny things. Lately the girls have employed some very entertaining phrases (not quite as entertaining as the expletive described in the previous post, but still...). Here are just a few:

Natalie: Karli, you need to come take a bath right now.
Karli: Mom, I do not have time for this stuff!

(Music playing, Amber and Natalie are dancing and Natalie lies down to rest...what an old fogie)
Amber: Mom, get up right now!
Natalie: Just let me rest for one second. I'm kind of dizzy.
Amber: But mom, we need to do a booty dance!

Karli (while watching the movie Aquamarine): I love it when Raymond takes off his shirt.

These Damn Kids


I know what you're thinking...and no, it isn't the case. This is not my statement. It is Amber's. That's right...adorable, sweet, three-year-old Amber. Today at her cheer class, the Drama Queen herself emerged from Amber's usually pleasant personality, and as the other students ran in front of her to head to the drinking fountain, she screamed out, "I AM SO SICK OF THESE DAMN KIDS!" I instantly started laughing for two reasons: 1. I'm sure I've said that about my own kids at some point and Amber remembered it, and 2. My mom had the most horrified look on her face. It was priceless and hilarious and totally embarassing. Looks like Adam and I had better watch our mouths.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

So Close...DARN IT!

I am a huge nerd when it comes to radio contests (among other things, obviously); I'll listen to a radio station all day long for weeks to win something I want. I support my concert habit this way; I've won tickets to Hootie and the Blowfish, 98 Degrees, and Enrique Iglesias through my dorky dedication to radio. In this case, I wanted to win Rascal Flatts tickets from KBUL 93. They're having a contest where they play a clip of a Rascal Flatts song backwards. The 13th caller gets a crack at guessing the song to win tickets.

This morning while driving home from work, I heard the clip and figured it was "While You Loved Me." I tried calling but didn't make the cut and forgot all about it. Then, around two o'clock this afternoon, I heard the prompt to call and dialed away. After six busy signals, I got through and was caller 13! I couldn't believe my luck. I get all giddy and nervous and excited about things like this, so my heart was pounding and I was desperately trying to ignore the three screaming tykes in the back seat so I could focus. The DJ played three different clips of the song, which didn't sound like "While You Loved Me", but I was so nervous that I just blurted out that title.

He said, "Is that your final answer?" so I said, "YES!" and he said......"Oh. No. I'm so sorry!" As soon as I agreed that the title offered was my final answer, I realized the song was "Mayberry". I hurriedly said, "Wait! Is it 'Mayberry'?" to which the DJ responded, "I'm not allowed to tell you, but that's an excellent guess!" BLAST! It was "Mayberry" and I missed my chance to go to the concert because I was starstruck and suffering from Mom-Related-Inability-To-Concentrate Syndrome. At least I won a free RF c.d. as a consolation prize. Maybe next time.