A Tale of Four Movies

This is kind of a big movie week in our house.  At least it is for me, and really, who cares about the others.  This isn't A Day In All Of Our Lives blog, is it?

First, I did get Current Husband and The Son to watch Breaking Dawn, Part 1 with me over Spring Break.  Current Husband wondered which people had implants and was then disappointed by the lack of a big bloody hunting/fight scene (QUOTE:  "I was so relieved they got that wedding out of the way fast, but the blood never came.")  The Son was traumatized by the sex and the birthing, which is honestly good news for me.  Maybe they should start showing Breaking Dawn in Health class in middle school.

Second, I got Oldest Daughter to watch Breaking Dawn, Part 1 with me on Sunday night.  We saw it in the theater together, but it was nice to watch it again with her.  Although I'm sure you're seeing a theme in which I watch Twilight movies and don't really give a shit who watches with me, but it seems pathetic to watch them alone.

Oh.  Hi Rob.  What are you doing here again?

I watch this movie for the articles, I swear.

Third, Hunger Games comes out this week.  Seriously can't wait, this movie is going to kick ass, as evidenced by the fact that they cast Lenny Kravitz as Cinna.  Woot!  I bought six tickets today so CH and I can go, and we'll let Oldest Daughter and The Son each bring a friend.  So what happens?  The Son tells Youngest Daughter about it while they are walking home.  When, oh when, will these children learn to keep secrets from each other?  Were we going to lie to YD about the rest of us going to a movie without her?  OF COURSE WE WERE!  I'd come up with a separate but equal option that doesn't involve her watching children fight other children to the death, take out the part about all of us eating ourselves sick with popcorn and peanut M&M's (seriously, if you haven't eaten this artery-clogging concoction then you haven't truly lived), and pick her up after the show with Skittles in hand.  Easy.  Now I'm going to have to spend my entire week explaining to her why she can't see Hunger Games. Thanks a LOT, Mr. Full Disclosure.

Fourth, the Breaking Dawn, Part 2 teaser came out today, and it is truly that.  Watch closely, it lasts 15 seconds:


Next time, just flash Jacob tearing his shirt off and show Edward flexing his back muscles (I still can't get over seeing Spot, the one nipple of his with a donut of hair around it, in New Moon), and whisper, "Twilight!"  You've got me.  They could just show a flash of Charlie saying, "What the fu..." and the release date, and people would go crazy.  (Do you hear me, BD2 people?  I would LOVE to see that teaser!!)  I thought this movie would come out in June because that's how they've released Twilight  movies, but NOOOO.  It's not coming out until NOVEMBER!  WTF, people!?  That's eight months away!

I hope the DVD player is ready, because that leaves time for a LOT of BD1 showings.  Wanna watch with me?  I'll make popcorn and peanut M&Ms....

A Little Help - What's a Virgin?

Last Saturday, a long-awaited date came up on the calendar.  Eclipse was released on DVD.

Oldest Daughter and I are Twilight freaks.  Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery, and if having a crush on a ficticious sparkly vampire (or the hot borderline jailbait British kid that plays him) is wrong, I don't wanna be right.  And let's get one thing straight...I don't watch Harry Potter and think about getting it on with Daniel Radcliffe.  But Rob Pattinson I would happily spank.  I have standards.

So it isn't enough that I've read the book...a number of times.  Or saw the movie in the theater two times.  OD and I have watched the DVD three times since Saturday.  I can explain it no better than a meth addict explains why they like meth.  There is no rational explanation.  But a margarita, a Twilight movie, and my flannel pjs go together like Larry, Mo and Curly.  Or ice cream, brownies and fudge.  Or teenagers, acne, and Facebook.  Or beer, NASCAR and Winnebagos.

Let me make one criticism of the movie - Jacob?  He's hot.  He's buff.  He's what I would expect a guy who turns into a werewolf looks like.  Hugh Jackman as Wolverine, I buy it.  But the other dudes in the pack in Eclipse?  They have muffin tops bigger than mine.  It really should be in their contracts that they have to work out with Taylor Lautner, because if you are going to spend the entire movie running around shirtless, give me something to look at, not be uncomfortable about.  If I was going to be in a movie shirtless, I would work the freeweights and get a boob lift, AS A FAVOR TO THE VIEWER.  You're welcome.

So we watch the movie with another family the first time.  Youngest Daughter and her second grade buddy are busy chanting for Jacob and cheering for the wolves in the first movie.  It's cute.  The second time, we watch it with just our family.  The Son and YD are asking questions and then shushing each other when the other one talks.  It keeps them somewhat occupied.  The third time, YD is sitting on one side of me, and The Son is on the other side.  It's the part when Bella and Charlie are talking in the kitchen, and he is asking her if she and Edward are taking precautions.  Bella ends up saying, "Okay, Dad?  I'm a virgin!" and they both get uncomfortable and leave the room.  YD turns to me.

"Mom?  What's a virgin?"

"Oh God, honey, it's been so long, I don't know," is what I think.  I know YD doesn't know what a virgin is - when she and a friend were into the movie "The Grease", as YD called it, they sang the song Sandra Dee a LOT.  When her friend would sing "Lousy with virginity", YD would say, "No, it's 'Virginia-t', like my middle name."  "OOOHHH, I get it" her friend would say, and they'd go on singing.

"Shh! We're watching a movie!" is what I say.

YD whispers..."MOM! What is a VIRGIN!?!"

The Son is shaking with laughter, eyes big, watching me.  The older kids live for moments like this.

"Well...um...it's when someone is very careful....they don't do a lot of crazy kissing or anything...." the scene changes to Bella trying to seduce Edward into tapping that.  We all watch in silence.  I'm hoping The Virgin Moment has passed.  YD is watching intently as Bella wraps her leg around Edward's rock hard...vampire body...and starts to unbutton his shirt.

"Is THAT what a virgin does Mom?"  YD is now confused.  Bella says she is a virgin, and then in the next scene is dry-humping Rob Pattinson.  Well honey, that's what some virgins do.  I had a friend in high school who we referred to as "The 69 Queen" - and I know you read this and you know I love you - and she proudly graduated as a virgin.  But her boyfriend all during high school always had a smile on his face.

"Um, no honey, a virgin probably wouldn't be getting quite so...crazy."  I don't know why, but the word 'crazy' just kept popping up in my head.  Probably because it was an easier word than 'penetration' or 'hymen' or 'intercourse'.  It's just so..so...crazy!

I thought about going with the whole Virgin Mary comparison, but still, Mary ended up with Baby Jesus and it still waded into waters I wasn't comfortable swimming in.  YD knows about penises and vaginas, she just isn't aware yet that they are interlocking parts.  I finally tried a strategy that addressed genital involvement.

"Bella just means Edward doesn't see her private parts."  I stared at the TV.  Edward was telling Bella he wanted to protect her virtue and asking her to marry him.  Stick with the theme, YD.

"Ew. Why would she want him to do that?"

"She wouldn't.  That's why we like Bella.  Yay!  They're getting married!" And finally, YD was distracted.  A wedding!  Like Bridal Barbie!  And we could just forget about vaginas for now.

YD might see the wedding scene, but Breaking Dawn will conveniently break down when the honeymoon starts.  But Mommy?  Mommy might have to watch that one alone.  Brown Chicken Brown Cow....

Finally, A Real Day in the Wife

This blog is called "A Day in the Wife", and yet, ironically enough, I never write about that.  Today will be different, because it has been my typical clusterf**k of a day, and I think my readers should know how bad I really am at this whole Wifery thing.

7:25 a.m.
The alarm has apparently been going off, but I have somehow missed it.  I have to leave to take Oldest Daughter to String Camp in 20 minutes.  She needs at least 40 minutes to get ready.  I wake her up and take my verbal beating, knowing there is coffee in my future.


7:28 a.m.
I walk into the kitchen to make coffee.  We are out of coffee filters.  The crying begins.


7:50 a.m.
We leave for String Camp, late again.  Oldest Daughter is angry and I am starting to shake from lack of caffeine.


8:15 a.m.
I get coffee at Starbucks, but my Starbucks card is .52 short.  I have to leave the coffee, go back out to the car to get money, and come back in to pay.  There are four angry people waiting in line behind me, and because they couldn't override it on the register, so they had to wait for me.  Suck it up, people, I NEED that coffee!


9:10 a.m.
Other children wake up, and demand breakfast.  I am out of cereal and bagels.  Luckily, I have toaster strudel.  I make the toaster strudel, but Youngest Daughter refuses to eat it because the design I made with the frosting is unacceptable, asks for Dots candy instead.  I openly lose my temper for the third time today.  YD eats toaster strudel with bad design, and somewhere, Michael Graves shakes his head at the tragedy of it all.

10:00 a.m.
I take YD, her brother, and his friend to PetSmart so they can look at snake accessories.  The Son and his friend both have corn snakes, which go on "playdates" to each others tanks.  I warn The Son that snakes are not pack animals, and they will probably kill each other eventually.  On the plus side, this will get me out of buying frozen baby rodents to feed said snake.  YD asks if we can go to the Target next door for a free cookie.  While out, I get a text from Oldest Daughter's cello teacher that the audition clinic for the local symphony youth string ensemble has been moved to today at 1.  Is OD planning on attending?  He strongly encourages it.  And we will have to reschedule today's lesson.  I panic, trying to quickly rearrange the day and figure out where and when this clinic is taking place.


Noon
Pick up OD from string camp and tell her she is going to ensemble clinic in 45 minutes.  She begins to cry, says she is not ready, tells me she doesn't want to go, and blames me for the symphony reschedule.  Because I hold unlimited power in the universe.  I spill coffee on my shirt.


12:50 p.m.
Yelling at everyone to "get in the van, we are late for the clinic!"  Everyone is crying:  OD because she is freaking out, YD because there is no candy involved, me because I am late AGAIN, and The Son because he is sad that everyone else is sad.  Make note to self to Google which Norman Rockwell painting corresponds to this moment.


1:05 p.m.
Pull up at audition site, comment on how empty parking lot is.  Go inside, ask secretary where clinic is, she looks at me like I asked her how to make cat salad in Portuguese.


1:09 p.m.
Force OD to text friend, find out clinic is tomorrow, cello teacher messed up.  I swear profusely.  OD is relieved.  YD asks for Skittles to celebrate.

1:15 p.m.
Get home to find gas company employee standing in my yard next to the For Sale sign, smoking, with the new gas line pipe sticking up out of my yard three feet from his cigarette.  Briefly hope he flicks his butt that way.  Instead, he opts for Port-O-John across street from my house (Did I mention my house is on the market?).  Notice full McDonalds bag on my curb next to where the gas company truck was parked about an hour earlier.  Hope prospective buyers avoid our house today.


1:45 p.m.
Realize in cello panic, I forgot to give anyone lunch.  Vegetarian daughter wants mac and cheese.  YD does not want mac and cheese, she asks for Twizzlers.  The Son doesn't feel like mac and cheese either, he would prefer turkey sandwich.  Children start fighting about which lunch would be best.  I leave to find Aleve bottle and a corner in which to rock.


2:43 p.m.
Remember I intended to make barbequed ribs in slow cooker for dinner, but they are supposed to cook on low for 6-8 hours.  I brown them in a frying pan and put them in the slow cooker on high, hoping that 6-8 hours on low heat means 3-4 hours on high heat will suffice.  Suspect my meat math is off.  Hope family isn't hungry until 9 p.m. and this does not result in multiple counts of food poisoning.


4:17 p.m.
Remember The Son goes to resident camp over an hour away on Sunday, and I haven't sent in physical forms.  Call camp and find out there is still a $285 balance.  Secretary urges me to get forms in mail tomorrow, since they are supposed to be mailed in 4 weeks prior to camp.  Crap.  (NOTE:  Same thing happened last year.  And possibly year before.)


5:43 p.m.
Call Current Husband to remind him that I am meeting friends for margarita and Eclipse, and need to leave by 6:10.  He tells me he will be home in 10 minutes.

6:13 p.m.
Current Husband arrives at home.  George the Superpet is jumping on him.  OD, YD, and The Son all run to him, grateful there is a non-swearing, non-caffeinated parent on the premises.  CH comments on how good dinner smells, and I say, "You can try it now, but it may not be done until 8 p.m.  Have fun!" and I leave.

7:45 p.m.
Two margaritas under my belt.  Rob Pattinson is filling up the screen in front of me.  I have a Diet Coke, and am surrounded by eight great women.  My day just took a turn for the better.

10:45 p.m.
Arrive at home calm and relaxed.  Walk in door.  The Son announces he has a friend over for the night and they will be playing with the snakes.  Oldest Daughter says she has plans with a friend tomorrow, and could I send lunch with her so she doesn't have the awkward vegetarian moment?  YD comes yelling out of the back room, seemingly ready to stay up for another three hours.  She asks if she can have a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.  I refuse.  She is angry, fights the whole "going to bed" thing.


12:22 a.m.
YD finally asleep.  Blog is almost done.  House is disaster.  Have to wake up in 7 hours.  At least I have coffee filters.

UPDATE:  1:13 a.m. 
Realize as I'm going to bed that I forgot to call the real estate website by Wed 3 p.m. deadline to tell them we are having an Open House this Sunday, now all advertising is gone and I have to cancel Open House and reschedule for the next weekend.  Because I am so organized.


TALLY:
Coffees:          5
Diet Cokes:    2
Medifast bars:  3
Expletives:      43
Margaritas:      2


Tomorrow, I will wake up at 7 a.m. (I hope) and try all over again to get it right, but I am not optimistic.  Perhaps two more coffees will get me there... 


This is A Day in the Wife. 

Please tell me your days are not dissimilar.

It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 32

Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word "culture". Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws.


Today's topic: Bella is a whore.


Let me just state for the record that I am, indeed, one of those freaky Twilight lovers. There, I said it. I love the books, I've read them all multiple times, and it's not just because of my daughter. I won't throw her under the bus. And while I think Jacob is just fine, particularly under the tutelage of Taylor Lautner, I am a Team Edward girl.


Watching Eclipse brought home a theme I felt while reading the books:
Bella is a total cock tease.
(BING! Did you hear that? It's the sound of another follower leaving.)

Dig deep within your soul, Twilight people....if Edward or Jacob was your friend in high school, and Bella was on Edward like white on rice during school, but then hopped on the back of a motorcycle to straddle Jacob and tear out of the parking lot in front of Edward, and both of those hot dudes were walking around totally sexually frustrated, you would:

1. Hate Bella for playing them.
2. Have sympathy sex with at least one of them.
3. Both.
4. Call them up and be all, "I just don't get why you put up with that crap Ed, you are all that and a bag, so just let her run around with those mangy cliff-jumpers" OR "You are so much better than this Jake, go find a girl who will scramble her egg on your chest because if she wants that sparkly freesia-scented freak she deserves him!"

I was so pissed during New Moon, because even though Jacob was a great friend and all, you totally knew he wanted to get in Bella's pants, and he wasn't even that subtle about it, and she's like, "Oh, it's okay if we hold hands, because friends can do that" and "I'll hang out with him every single day even though his friends have all told me that he calls me his girlfriend".  I mean, really?  Really Bella? 

Then Eclipse came along, and I was even MORE pissed, because come ON, Edward is BACK, honey!  Hello, remember the whole Romeo and Juliet thing going on in New Moon?  Like if R & J hadn't killed themselves over their true love, maybe Juliet would've looked at Benvolio some night when he was over to play cards with Romeo and said, "maybe we could hold hands and I could tell him I love him, but not in the way I love Romeo.  That would be okay, right?"  No, Juliet.  No it would not.

And then the whole Eclipse sleeping bag scene?  It's great in the movie, don't get me wrong, I love it.  But let's take stock here:  Bella has been dry humping Edward for almost two years now, and has spent the better part of the last month trying to coax Edward into deflowering her.  She makes a deal that she will marry Edward, even though she is totally against marriage, if he will just do it with her once, even though he has explained that he will most likely kill her during intercourse.  Then enter one really inexplicably cold June night in Forks, and enter Jacob with his 108 degree body whose wolf senses CLEARLY smell a girl in heat.  Suddenly it is ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY to Bella's survival that Jacob wrap his shirtless body around her in her sleeping bag, in front of Edward.  And the entire time, Jacob is fantasizing about bangin' Bella, knowing Edward is reading his mind.

Can you say SADISM?!

Then BANG, the storm is over, Bella can run around without a coat on, and run after Jacob to dry-hump him in front of Edward, and let the wolf stick his tongue down her throat.  Even though Edward is her one true love.  And she's already agreed to marry him.  Then Jacob gets half the bones in his body broken, and after Carlisle painfully rebreaks and resets his bones, Bella walks in to weep and say that she really does love Edward more, but thanks for the smooch.  That's cold, Bella.  Stone ass cold.

I actually didn't like Bella much at the end of Eclipse, the book.  I thought she was a tease and not so naive that she didn't know she was playing both of these guys, particularly Jacob.  And I got a little fed up with the whole "UGH, do I HAVE to marry you Edward?" because who gives a crap if you are marrying him if you are becoming undead soon afterward anyway?  Yes, Bella, you HAVE to marry the superhot sparkly vampire who has pledged his life to you and promised you wedding night nookie even though you will inevitably be cock-blocking him, AGAIN.  And HELLO, can you imagine the haul from the gift registry?   "We'll need 14 Nambe bowls to hold all of the blood at parties, and four sterling candleabras, and some of those lovely Waterford goblets.  For the blood."

Let me take a moment to assure you, gentle reader, that I know these things to be true:

• these are books
• vampires and werewolves are not real
• Bella is a teenager and doesn't know shit
• no one puts blood in Nambe bowls

But still.  I can't have Oldest Daughter sitting there watching the movie thinking, "Damn girl, I need to get me two hot boyfriends and play them off of each other!"  I don't even want her to get ONE hot boyfriend.  I'd like her to be BFF's with a guy on the Lego Robotics team and Computer Club, and they can Facebook each other until they are 23, disease-free, and able to get a nice job with benefits.  But I digress.

Bella?  I know Stephenie had to drag this story out for four books, and there needed to be a conflict.  But it all ended up making you look kind of pathetic and cruel and fairly whorish for a virgin (another favorite scene with Bella and Charlie and "the talk").  And I know there is more coming (no pun intended) in Breaking Dawn, but at least we FINALLY get to see you two nutty kids get past the tentative smooching and groaning stage, because I'm starting to avert my eyes when you kiss.  It's all so pent-up-frustration-y.  As they say in boxing, "LET'S GET IT ON!"

Happy Whoreticulture Friday, and have a terrific weekend!  And go see Eclipse, it's the best one yet!

What I Remember of Eclipse

Last night was a night of penance.

Oldest Daughter and a friend of hers spent an entire day last week cleaning to prepare for my open house, so I promised I would take them to the midnight showing of Eclipse last night.  I know.  The sacrifices I make for my children are enormous.  

I think a hallmark of really good parenting is creating rewards for your children that actually benefit you.  It's the ultimate in multitasking - they're happy, you're happy, everybody's happy.  Some examples of this method are:

1. "If everyone does a good job with their chores, we'll get Dairy Queen Blizzards."
2. "If you're all really good, we'll let you go to Grandma's for a couple of nights."
3. "If you clean my house for the Open House, I'll take you to Eclipse."

I'm a hero, and I get ice cream, a night alone, and some Edward time.  I'll put that in the WIN column.

To prepare for our Eclipse night, OD and her friend decided to make t-shirts to commemorate the occasion.  Everyone there would have Team Edward or Team Jacob shirts.  At the tender age of 13, young women want to feel like they are participating in a Pop Culture moment while equally shunning it at the same time.  What's an angsty teen to do?  My daughter and her friend decided to make Team Billy t-shirts.  Billy, for the non-Twilighters, is Jacob's father, and one of the Quileute elders.  He is in a wheelchair and says he is "Down with the kids" and Charlie, Bella's dad, says, "Yeah Dude, you're the bomb".  He's a pretty minor character.  Their shirt choice was the perfect non-conformist, "I'm involved yet above all of this" solution.

 And?  They put fuchsia streaks in their hair.  

Because Team Billy is just that crazy.

Leaving for the show at 11 p.m.  I vetoed my Team Billy shirt.

We left for the midnight movie, located five minutes away from my house, at 11 p.m., thinking we had plenty of time.  Wrong.  The entire parking lot was jammed with cars, and there were Twilighters everywhere.  The theater had five midnight shows going, and all were sold out.  The lines to wait to get into the theater to sit were snaked down the hallways, and I was surrounded by texting teens.  There were moms there, yes, but the predominant audience member was a teenager wearing a tight t-shirt, short shorts, flip flops, and a glowing phone with their fingers flying over the keyboard.

Much to my chagrin, we had to sit in the third row of the theater, and the girls behind me kept putting their feet up on the back of my seat.  I thought about yelling at them, but instead, I took a bag of contraband candy out of my purse and said, "Hey, I have an extra bag of candy, and my girls don't want it...do you?"  They took it, and didn't put their feet up on my seat again.  I literally caught more flies with honey.   The movie began, and every girl in the theater started screaming, including the ones over 40.  

Edward.  It's been too long.

The movie was pretty good.  Edward's makeup has greatly improved since the first movie, and Jacob never disappoints.  The sex talk between Charlie and Bella was funny, and the Cullens got to go all badass, which was great.  In New Moon, my big distraction was Spot, the ring of hair around Rob Pattinson's nipple.  In this movie, it had to be Jasper's hair.  WTF?  Did a stylist really do that on PURPOSE?  He looks like Jack White from the White Stripes, which is great if you are actually Jack White.  Otherwise, you look a bit like a cross between Johnny Depp as Willie Wonka and the pedophile that lives down the street.  

My angsty teens said Eclipse was the best Twilight yet, but it was late, and I'm old.  I'm going to have to see it a few more times before I can make that kind of judgement.

Opening Your House Can Be Hazardous to Your Marriage

First, what do you think of the new template for ADITW?  I think it's pretty awesome!  This is the blog redesign I won through the Mummy-Time SuperMegaAwesome Giveaway, and was done by the ultra fab Sarah, of Blog Designs By Sarah (see her button on the bottom right-hand side?).  Group Slow Clap for Sarah today!


So many of you know Current Husband and I put our house on the market last Wednesday.  Holy Mother.  Of course, when one lists a house on the market, it is time to finish all of those projects you wanted to finish in the previous few years.  All I can say is thanks to the power of Prednisone, I have been on Roid Rage for the past 10 days.

I had this really funny post about all of the stuff that happened leading up to the open house, but CH came in and told me that I shouldn't blog about the house while we are trying to sell the house, so I had to delete it.  I guess he has a point, but it's ALL I'VE BEEN DOING and I really have very little else to write about.  Here is what got past the censor:

1. I painted a few things.
2. I only showered every couple of days.  Or three.
3. We had Taco Bell twice. 
4. I stripped Nancy Reagan (and this only got by because I already wrote about it.)
5. I alienated my husband and frightened the kids and George the Superpet.

The downside is that I have killed approximately 5 million brain cells with paint fumes.  The upside is that I now have biceps.  Seriously.  If I had any sex drive left, CH would be on me like white on rice, but every time he tried to touch them I'm like "REALLY!?  REALLY!?!  ARE YOU EFFING SERIOUS?!" and he backed away whimpering.  There is nothing like listing your house to make you turn on each other.  You start keeping track of who does what.  You start getting tired and delusional and seeing your spouse like this:

But the results have been sparkling!  Too bad I didn't do these things over the past four years! 

Here is some of my work:

New valance, new fluffy white towels 

(DO NOT USE UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH!) 

and fresh white walls!

Suck it, Nancy Reagan!  I win!  The ceilings in here are 9 feet. 

Arms up for the wallpaper death march!

The open house was scheduled for Sunday at 1 p.m., but on Wednesday we got a call from someone wanting to see it before the open house, on Saturday night at 7 p.m.  POOF!  There goes 18 extra hours to prepare for the open house.  I popped a Prednisone, turned green, tore my shirt, flexed my biceps, and growled.  Bring it, Mr. Clean, you are my wingman.

All the cleaning and sprucing in the world might not sell your house, so I decided it was time to turn to a power higher than paint fumes and steroids:

A lovely friend gave me this St. Joseph and brought YD a Happy Meal on showing day.  Win-win.  I felt like St. Joseph needed a little extra something for luck, so I told CH I was going to bury him with a mini bottle of Bailey's I had in the fridge, but CH thought that was sacrilegious and therefore detrimental to our cause.  Again with the buzzkill, CH.  So instead, I buried St. Joseph with some delicious raisins, because the Sun-Maid Raisin Girl is kind of cute and I thought they might hit it off.

He is happily ensconced in a garden bed near a cute little bunny nest.

Work your magic, St. Joseph, because I am still on steroids and am unstable, and I know where you are buried.

Tomorrow, Oldest Daughter and I are going to the midnight showing of Eclipse, because after all of this house stuff, I need me some Edward and some Dots.  Can't wait!

Thanks again to Sarah, and thanks for sticking around, Wifers!  I read all of your comments and appreciate your support!  You people rock!

 

Mother vs. Nature, part 2

Continued from last night...

So Todd and I are  battling mutant rodents in the yard in hand to hand combat, but they are retaliating by bringing in giant rabid raccoons to crap next to the house.  I decided to eliminate their cover by hacking through the jungle of weeds and hedges that abut the garden.  As I'm climbing behind the garden fence with my pruners in hand, I swear I hear little squeaky voices saying, "Stanley!  Grab a beer and a camcorder, this is going to be great!" and another squeaky voice saying, "The dumb bitch is going to fall for it!" and a third, deeper voice yelling, "Alvin!"

I cut back into the weedy growth and hedges about a foot, so if the chipmunks are approaching the fence, we can see them and use our 30 foot flamethrower to incinerate them.  However, about 12 hours later, I realize that I have been handling this:

 Say hello to poison sumac.

It started as a little bug bite on my family gobbler chin.  I sort of absentmindedly scratched it, and thought, "Huh.  I need to use bug repellent."  Then it sort of spread, and then I could feel it developing on my chest where my bra strap would be, and then on my hip, and I thought, "Uh oh." Because whenever I get into poison ivy, oak, and now sumac, I turn into a balls-out leper.  Think I'm kidding?  Get a load of this action:

 This picture?  Is actually flattering.

I have a patch of this the size of a tea saucer on my chest, and a long 2-3 inch wide strip from my abdomen down my hip on either side.  At least I can rest assured that I will not get pregnant this month.  Glass half full!

You might be asking yourself, "Self, what is poison sumac like?"  Well, you are in luck, because my public humiliation is your learning tool.  It burns like when James bit Bella on the arm and Edward had to suck it out but he wasn't sure if he could stop. (By the way, why didn't Edward's eyes turn red after sucking Bella's blood?  Huh?)  It is blistery and oily and crusted over, and looks like there are tiny disgusting water balloons all over me.  Tonight I was working on the porch, my FAVORITE place in the world at this time of year, and Youngest Daughter was eating a bag of Cheetos in a nearby rocking chair.  Suddenly, out of NOWHERE, she throws down her bag of Cheetos and yells at me.  "I wish you had never gotten into that poison stuff because your face is so disgusting I can't eat!" and she stomped out of the room, crying.

YES, my face makes children cry.

And?  Oldest Daughter had to tell me my chin was dripping as I drove her to school today, which is every middle schooler's dream next to having her mom show everyone the Thriller dance in the middle school gym.  I had to carry a napkin with me to the Son's baseball game tonight so I could soak up my disgusting sap on the bleachers with the other parents.  They all gave me a wide berth.  I'm also lactating boil secretions through my shirt, and it's been a long time since I've secreted or lactated.  Yay, me!  Even Todd "Hot Nuts" Epstein is eying me funny.  

So I guess I am on house arrest for the week, because this is really too disgusting for words.  When I was 11 I got the chicken pox and had my mom get me a yellow shirt with glitter rainbow letters that said, "POXY LADY" because weirdly enough I loved Jimi Hendrix back then.  I mean, I love him now, but at 11?  I was ahead of my time.  So I'm thinking of what t-shirts I could get for this.  Here are some ideas:

1.  "Kiss me, I'm a leper!
2. "You should see the other guy!"
3. "It's not syphilis - yet."
4. "Kiss the Cook!"
5. "Crusty the Clown Did This To Me"
6. "Seeking Pro Bono Dermatologist"

So the chipmunks have won this battle, but they have not won the war.  I plan to give them smallpox infested blankets and acorns rubbed in cold sores.  If they want to go to dermatological warfare, bring it on, baby.  I got all summer.

Edward's Back...And His Front

"Do you really have any idea how important you are to me?  Any concept at all of how much I love you?"  Edward pulled me tighter against his hard chest, tucking my head under his chin.

I pressed my lips against his snow-cold cheek.  "I would get a better idea if you would fix the dishwasher, my handy little vampire."

"You compare one small tree to an entire forest...wait...did you say fix the dishwasher?"

"Yes.  You sit at the table and stare at me the entire time I'm washing the dishes.  For claiming to be so observant, you've really dropped the ball on noticing I am not loading and unloading a dishwasher.  Maybe get up and lend a sister a hand?  And that garbage isn't taking itself out."

 Edward leaving after dishwasher hose bursts.

Worthless bloodsucker.

This weekend, the kids and I watched New Moon.  I ordered it from Amazon, but they gave a free one-day digital download when you ordered the DVD, so at 11 p.m. CST we were able to crowd on the couch and watch it on my computer.  I still love it, even though time has colored some of it in Velveeta-hued shades of cheese.  We can't all be brie, darling.  

(Spoiler Alert!)  So we're crammed on the couch, Oldest Daughter, The Son, Youngest Daughter, and me, all trying to get the best view of the computer screen, and the scene comes up where Edward is in Italy and steps out into the sun with his shirt off.  

YD:  "Why is he naked?"

ME:  "He isn't naked honey, he's showing his skin in the sun."

OD:  "SHHH!"

SON:  "What is wrong with his chest?"

ME:  "What do you mean?"

YD:  "He is TOO naked."

SON:  "He has that one hairy spot on his chest..."

ME:  "SPOT!  You see The Spot!"

OD:  "SHHHH!  Leave The Spot alone!"

SON:  "What do you mean, 'The Spot'?"

YD:  "Why is Edward naked?"

And this is how I know these are my children.

First, YD understands that Edward is, indeed, almost naked.  It's one thing to read the book when he takes his shirt off in Volturra and gets nearly sparkly.  It's quite another to see Rob Pattinson's V-Line in front of you.  Let's take an Urban Dictionary moment:

V-Line:  Usually refers to a guy's ripped obliques, which are like plainly visible arrows pointing to his happy place.

But the New Moon movie people did Rob no favors by flaunting Taylor Lautner's shirtless visage in front of us the entire movie.  Rob, who should be impressive without a shirt, suddenly looks like a scoop of vanilla ice cream next to a Hot Fudge Sundae.

Second, my children seem to be the only other people who noticed Rob's unbalanced nipple hair.  As I mentioned in my post after seeing the movie in the theater, from Whoreticulture Friday, Issue 7, Rob had such disproportionate nipple hair I lost my New Moon focus:

"So far I seem to be the only person who noticed that in New Moon (Oh my GOD will she quit talking about New Moon? No. No she will not.), when Rob Pattinson took his shirt off, one of his nipples had some whackadoodle hair job or something around it. It's like one nipple got the JFK hair and the other one got the Jackie. It was distracting for me. Urban Dictionary calls this a Nipple Brow or a Nipple Beard. I've started calling him Spot, much to Oldest Daughter's chagrin."

 Holy crap, she's right!  This one IS bushier!

All I'm looking for is validation.  I can't be the only person who notices these things.  I mean, come on...they didn't stick him out there naked so I would listen to his dialogue.  So pay a little attention to the details, okay?

Eclipse is coming out on June 30, and since Edward shouldn't be shirtless in this one, all I ask is that they keep his lipstick under control and I'll be happy as a clam.  That is all.

It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 6

Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word culture. Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws.

Today's topic: Breaking (New Moon) Mom
WARNING: Potential spoilers below. Read at your own risk!

I looked across the low ripples in the water, black in the darkness, looking for him.

He wasn't hard to find. He stood, his back to me, waist deep in the midnight water. The pallid light of the moon turned his skin a perfect white, like the sand, like the moon itself, and made his wet hair as black as the ocean. I stared at the smooth lines of his back, his shoulders, his arms, his neck, the flawless shape of him...

"Holy shit! I'm in the ocean with Edward!" I said, surprised, even though I was writing it.

"AAAH! YOU Again!" Edward used his perfectly sculpted hands to try and cover himself. "How do you keep getting in this story?!? Where is Bella?"

"She's sitting on the bathroom floor, freaking out, and I think she's going to shave her legs again. You know, Edward, I'm an old pro at this. Do you want to do a test run? Just to be sure you don't kill Bella, of course..." I winked at him.

"You are actually rather frightening, and I don't scare easily," Edward said, as he backed away. "And your body is...different...from Bella's. Not as appealing. But there is a confidence there that is intriguing. Perhaps I SHOULD be sure I can control myself with her..." Edward stopped, contemplating.

HA! He was more of a man than he gave himself credit for. Now was my chance. I had to act quickly, before the Cougar venom I slipped in his post-wedding deer kill faded away.

"Ooops!" I gave myself a small cut opening the condom wrapper. (Hey, I don't care how cute Renesmee is, I am DONE carrying ANYONE's spawn, even if he is a superhot sensitive Cullen.) Edward looked suddenly ravenous. He moved toward me, and his breath came rougher now. I dropped my towel to tend to my cut, exposing myself to him. His Michelangelo-like body came to a screeching halt. The clouds re-formed and the angels stopped singing.

"No. Absolutely not. No I don't think so." Edward averted his eyes, started whistling a tune from WWI and looked up at the moon, glowing silver across the rippling water from his abrupt stop. He looked a little sick, actually. Was he okay?

"Edward? Edward are you out there?" Bella called from the house. "Who is out there with you?"

"It's a Cougar, love, nothing to be alarmed about," Edward called. "Less dangerous than werewolves, really." He then whispered to me, "Listen, I think you should go. Do you need the boat?"

"Did you say a Cougar?" Bella called. "Because the whole house is full of them. They're making margaritas and just put The Notebook in the DVD player. Something about being a part of your Team? What should I do with them?"

"Er, let them enjoy their drinks, love, I'll be in in a minute!" He turned to look at me, winced, and then immediately looked at the moon again. "How exactly did all of you get here from Rio?"

"We're peri-menopausal, Edward. The erratic hot flashes make the water a refreshing necessity, and the irrational rages make us capable of things we couldn't do as stable, rational 30-year-olds. The pack is here, Edward. I'm sorry, but I am a part of your world now. I can't live with you, because you are a fictitious character, and I am technically still stalking The Edge, but I can't live without you. But I can't admit to my friends that I love you, because you are, after all, in a YA novel and 17 years younger than me in human form. Thank goodness we have that 'Oh I was actually born in 1901' loophole or I'd be picking out my prison bitch with Mary Kay Letourneau!" I laughed.

Edward sighed a glorious sigh that sounded like my kids leaving for Grandma's and "here's your Cold Stone Gotta Have It" and the bean grinder at Starbucks all wrapped up in one. Oh, if only he could play "Where The Streets Have No Name" on guitar!

"How do I rid myself of you?" he asked, still naked and waist deep in water. I found myself thinking about how his skin would never pucker. And he wouldn't have that George Costanza problem in the water, either.

"Let's do one of your famous compromises - kiss me and I'll leave, I promise."

"And you'll take the Cougar Pack with you?"

"Done. Now get over here, you undead bastard, and kiss me!"

Edward moved toward me, miraculous in his erudite, sensitive vampire glory. He was a Quarter Pounder with Cheese, lettuce wraps at P.F. Changs, cupcakes from Maggie Moos. His sweet breath washed cool and delicious over my face, like a Mega Mocha MooLatte from DQ. This was it...come to Momma....

"JULIE! Are you coming to bed or not!?!" Grr. This was not Edward.

"Damn it, CH, I told you never to bother me when I'm blogging! You ruined the moment anyway. Go stick your head in the freezer for a few minutes and you might get lucky."

Foiled again. But I'll always have Eclipse...

New Moon Cougar

"BELLA?"

Edward's soft voice came from behind me. I turned to see him spring lightly up the porch steps, his hair windblown from running. He pulled me into his arms at once, and then immediately stepped back in alarm.

"Oh no, honey, it's Julie." I set down my coffee mug and van keys.

"Julie? I thought you were Bella. But now I see that you are older and fill out those mom jeans a bit. And your smell is all wrong. You smell...bitter."

"That's what forty years and three kids will do to you, Edward. You should probably cave and change Bella now, before her varicose veins and incontinence kick in. It happens earlier than you think."

"What ARE you?" Edward stood in all of his sparkly glory, hair perfectly disheveled, British accent adequately hidden, and he seemed confused, yet intrigued.

"I don't have those submissive, self-confidence issues your young girlfriend has. I'm a Cougar, and my pack has moved in. There is WAY too much testosterone in Forks, and my coffee group of experienced, hot, perimenopausal mothers has been created to meet the needs of the man beasts in this region. Now give Mommy a kiss, you bloodsucking fool, or I'll spank that perfectly sculpted butt!"

If it's news to you that New Moon opens in theaters this Friday, you might as well stop reading now. It's true, I am one of those crazy people who are obsessed with the Twilight Saga. I've read the entire series, including the Midnight Sun post on Stephenie Meyer's site, multiple times, and Oldest Daughter and I have watched the Twilight movie a number of times, which I hated at first (it's not like the book!) and then grew to love.

I'm going to take issue for a moment with the Twilight Haters. I sent out an e-mail to a bunch of moms I know about doing a group outing to see Twilight, and I got a couple of replies making fun of me for liking a young adult book. Another acquaintance on Facebook commented that she was quitting Breaking Dawn because she couldn't take any more, and a couple of people (including me) commented that she shouldn't quit now, she needed closure, and another woman jumped on and said, "I didn't read the books and I'm glad I didn't, because from what my students tell me, they are really bad and young girls shouldn't be reading them. What a horrible thing for people to follow."

To these people, I say SUCK IT.

First, why anyone would make fun of someone for reading a book, any book, is beyond me. Oh, by all means, go back to your Dancing With the Stars and Nutty Bars (Nutty Bars...yum) while I READ something. But the people who are ribbing me don't bother me, because I am never above giving someone a hard time about something. It's the chick who gives a book review and opinion on a BOOK SHE NEVER READ! I bet she's great in bed. "I am not trying that because I heard it's dumb. And I heard orgasms are overrated. And I won't kiss you because I heard bacteria causes H1N1. Why don't we just not have sex and I'll tell everyone you're inadequate?"

Second, over 20 million readers just might be on to something. And the Twilight movie alone grossed over $380 million so far. So I'll take solace in the fact that I am not alone in thinking there is something to this that isn't just screaming teeny-boppers.

Third, Edward is perfect. Women love him because he is educated, artistic, hot, protective, and has the appropriate amount of self-loathing most men are missing. Am I a New Moon Cougar? Jacob/Taylor seems a little young and green for my conscience, but my friend Liz and I had the Edward/Rob discussion a couple of weeks ago.
ME: "So I would say the Edge is top on my list, and probably Seth Meyers, and Bradley Cooper is pretty hot, Vince Vaughn is sort of off the list now..."
LIZ: "What about Robert Pattinson?"
ME: "Well, he's cute, but he's only 23, so it would be weird."
LIZ: "But he's cute."
SILENCE. WE SIP OUR WINE.
LIZ: "I wouldn't kick him out of bed."
ME: "Okay, if he asked, I would help him out. Because it would be like community service. And he IS British. And legal."
LIZ: "Barely. But I'd do him."
ME: "CH isn't going to like this."

So go enjoy New Moon. Because it's ENTERTAINMENT. It's Fun with a side of popcorn. Cougars unite, and get down with your teeny bopper self. (But if you scream while I'm trying to hear the dialogue, I will shove Milk Duds up your nose.)

A friend turned me on to Jen Lancaster's books a few months ago, and I've never turned back. She is absolutely hysterical, and she too is obsessed with Twilight. Her post yesterday about New Moon made my day: www.jennsylvania.com

The song playing is my fave from the New Moon soundtrack (yes, I have it, but I don't have the action figures, so I still have my pride.) Happy New Moon!