Wanda Says…Why my husband’s gaming privileges are about to be revoked.

December 21, 2014 / Wanda / 2 Comments

A couple of days after my last post, On the subject of video games and prison lingo, this conversation took place with Bryce about another video game.

Bryce: Mommy, will you watch me play this game? It’s pretty cool.

Me: Sure, I can watch for a few minutes.

Bryce: Let me show you the characters first.

He starts flipping through these pages of characters on the game. The graphics of this game are also cartoons, but I realized right away that it’s more of an adult cartoon style. At least the detailed pictures were. When the game is in play the characters all compress down into innocuous looking little people and they appear child-like. But when you peruse the actual game roster the characters are all sexy fantasy creatures…who are well endowed and wearing very little clothing. I saw picture after picture of female characters with their breasts hanging out and wearing small bikini style costumes to match their persona. I was shocked, but Bryce didn’t seem to notice how exposed these characters were and the conversation continued…

Me: I’m surprised daddy let you pick this game.

Bryce: Why? It’s fun.

He then shows me a picture of an exceptionally racy looking character and I almost choked on my tongue.

Me: Who is that character?

Bryce: She’s a Succubus.

Me: For fuck’s sake! (said quietly to myself so Bryce wouldn’t hear)

When I mentioned this little conversation to my husband, he had the decency to look embarrassed before he started laughing his ass off. And when I mentioned writing this post to him he said, “What’s the big deal? It’s a mythological creature……that could be painted on the hood of a Camaro.”

I rest my case.

On the subject of video games and prison lingo.

December 18, 2014February 22, 2019 / Wanda / 8 Comments

Last week Dan downloaded a new game to the ipad for Bryce. The graphics of the game are cartoons, but the game is still a bit scary because all the enemies are monsters, like vampire bats and werewolves.

This was the conversation I had with Dan about the game last week. Keep in mind that Bryce is only four years old, but because he has an older sister who loves video games, he’s more adept than most four year olds at playing them.

Dan: I got this new game for Bryce. At first you only had to shoot enemies with a bow and arrow, which didn’t strike me as being overly violent. But now you have to defeat your enemies with a dagger, and that just seems too violent.

Me: You think? He’s four, and he has to defeat enemies with a dagger? Is that the same game he asked me for help with the other day? He told me he was in a “creepy situation” with a game and needed help getting out of the level. I saw the vampire bats and told him to shut it off.”

(I want Dan and Bryce to have their own activities, you know, father/son stuff, so I don’t want to interfere. Although I am a bit concerned, I’m trying to trust Dan’s judgment).

Dan: Yeah, I’m not sure we’ll be keeping this game.

Two days later….

Dan: Bryce, tell mommy what you did to the werewolf.

Bryce: I shanked him with a shiv.

Me: (epic sigh)

Wanda Says…Blog awards, Rick Springfield, and other random stuff.

December 16, 2014 / Wanda / 7 Comments

Recently another great blogger, Weight2lose2013, nominated me for the One Lovely Blog Award. This is my second ‘New Blogger’ award since I started this blog four and a half months ago. I won’t lie, I’m pretty thrilled about it.

The One Lovely Blog Award nominations are chosen by fellow bloggers for those newer and up-and-coming bloggers. The goal is to help give recognition and also to help the new blogger to reach more viewers. It also recognizes blogs that are considered to be “lovely” by the fellow bloggers who choose them. This award recognizes bloggers who share their story or thoughts in a beautiful manner to connect with viewers and followers.

You think I’m lovely? Really? Even though I use the F-word a lot? Awww, that’s fantastic!

Prior to blogging, I’ve never won any awards. Not ever. Not even a perfect attendance award in elementary school. This was partly due to how shy I was as a kid, and I didn’t really outgrow that shyness until I was in high school. Even then, I never liked to be the center of attention so I learned to fly under the radar. I’ve always been social and enjoyed being included in group activities but I never really put myself out there to try and accomplish something I could be recognized for.

So having my silly, ridiculous little blog acknowledged in a positive manner by my peers in the blogging community feels pretty amazing. I never thought anyone would read it, so I am beyond flattered that any of you enjoy it enough to keep coming back and checking in on Wanda. I truly enjoy being a part of the WordPress community, and I want to thank Weight2lose2013 for the nomination and support. All of you should go check out his blog immediately!

Now let’s get to the rules…

In order to “accept” the award the nominated blogger must follow several guidelines:

Thank the person who nominated you for the award.
Add the One Lovely Blog logo to your post.
Share 7 facts/or things about yourself
Nominate 15 bloggers you admire and inform the nominees by commenting on their blogs

Here are seven random facts about me:

1. I often read to myself, out loud. I can’t help it. When I’m engrossed in a good book reading out loud to myself just happens, and when I try and suppress the urge I get frustrated and end up re-reading a paragraph several times trying to concentrate. I don’t like to read with other people in the room for this reason. Does anyone else have this problem?

2. I’ve had a white hot crush on Rick Springfield for about 30 years now, and I don’t see that changing, ever. Growing up, I really wanted to be Jesse’s Girl so Rick would love me too. (Sigh)

3. One of my biggest pet peeves is when people ask me if I’m wearing contacts. I have blue eyes, and five out of ten people will ask me point blank if I am wearing contact lenses. Here’s what irritates me about this…they don’t ask if I’m wearing colored contacts, just contacts. I do wear contacts because I have horrible vision, but they aren’t colored. Frequently, people just assume my eye color is enhanced with blue colored contacts, and when they ask it’s almost like they’re accusing me of something. It’s the knowing tone of voice they use, like they just out-smarted a used car salesman that annoys the shit out of me. I usually reply by saying, “Yes, I wear contacts because my vision is horrible, but how could you tell that just by looking at me?” My point is that people shouldn’t assume that because someone has an interesting feature that they’re fake in some way. And even if they are, why should you care?

4. Coffee is my favorite beverage. I worship coffee. I could drink it all day, especially when it’s cold and raining. I don’t like black coffee, though. I like my coffee like I like my ice cream…sweet and creamy. When I travel, I even pack my own sweetener (Stevia) and non-dairy creamer. So many people and hotels don’t have Stevia or the cream I like, so I never leave town without it.

5. I love books of all kinds and I read books from every genre. Historical fiction is my favorite, but paranormal romance is my secret, guilty pleasure. Sometimes, after reading something heavy and thought-provoking, I need a book that doesn’t make me think too hard. Something that just makes me laugh, takes me to the edge of my seat, and makes my heart race with the anticipation of the two main characters finally getting their shit together and realizing they belong to each other. Some of my favorite series include the Fever series, the Immortals After Dark series, the Black Dagger Brotherhood, and the Charley Davidson series. All of these series are sexy, smart, action-packed and hilarious.

6. I really do have a weird obsession with the zombie apocalypse. Last month my husband was cleaning out the garage and he knew to pile everything he wanted to get rid of in the driveway for me to look at first, just in case I wanted to save something for my zombie stash. He wanted to get rid of a Brita water filter tank and several new, replacement filters. I was like, “What if the zombie apocalypse comes and we need a way to filter water for drinking?” He calmly put the water tank and filters back in the garage, without saying a word. I think he appreciates the fact that I’m thinking ahead. 😉

7. Sometimes, I spontaneously start dancing around my house. Sometimes with music, most of the time without music. My dancing is usually motivated by doing something silly with my kids. I think I’m a great dancer. My kids think I’m ridiculous and my husband just thinks it’s funny.

Now for the blogger nominations! I don’t know fifteen new bloggers to nominate, so I will nominate the bloggers that I do know and believe you will enjoy as much as I do.

http://jurassicmom.com/

http://lindsaysmiles.wordpress.com/

http://sweetykannoth.wordpress.com/

http://redcarpetsquare.wordpress.com/

That’s it! Thanks again and I hope everyone has a fabulous week! 🙂

Wanda Says…Busy, busy, busy!

December 10, 2014 / Wanda / 10 Comments

This isn’t a real post. This is an I-don’t-have-anything-fun-to-write-about-but-don’t-want-to-ignore-my-blog post.

Things have been busy around my house between managing regular daily life and preparing for Christmas, and it seems like all the funny stuff I think to write about is either way too personal or inappropriate.

So, not that anyone cares, but this is a mash-up of everything that’s been going on at my house in the past week…

My husband and I have been trying to find an efficient and safe way to remove silly string from my drive way. Let me say that not anticipating the mess and difficulty of cleaning up silly string after my daughter’s birthday was an epic fail on my part. Epic. We are having a serious drought here in southern California, and I thought once we had a good rain it would dissolve. Yes, that makes me an idiot. It didn’t dissolve and my driveway looks like shit. Vinegar helps to loosen it up and we’ve used a putty knife to scrape it off, but we can only work small sections at a time. We don’t want to use chemical solvents because the run-off will end up in the ocean. And spending an hour at a time on my hands and knees scraping the concrete is less than ideal. If any of you have a suggestion for this, I would be happy to hear it.

We got the tree up and decorated it last weekend. It’s beautiful. I love my Christmas tree. With the bow at the top, it’s about nine feet tall.

And this is Santa. He likes hanging out in my tree. He’s cool like that.

Ho Ho Ho!

The rest of my week has been a continuous flow of cooking, baking, Christmas shopping, helping with homework, play dates and housework. I hate the housework and the cooking but I love the baking and shopping. I love listening to Christmas music when I bake. I think it makes everything taste more Christmas-y. I also did my Christmas cards this past weekend, and every year I ask myself, “Why the hell do I still send out Christmas cards?” They are such a jolly pain in the ass. 😉

That’s about it. I’m sorry I haven’t had time to keep up with my blog reading, but hopefully tomorrow I can squeak out some time to catch up on everyone else’s posts and see what’s been going on in the world.

Happy Wednesday! 🙂

Wanda Says…On my son’s opinion of Corn Syrup.

December 5, 2014December 6, 2014 / Wanda / 9 Comments

My kids love juice.

I don’t really serve them much juice because I know it’s the equivalent of giving them sugar water. Now that they are a little older I buy reduced-sugar apple juice, or all natural juice boxes for their lunches.

Last week, in an attempt to switch things up a bit, my husband picked up some Sunny Delight at the store. The kids love orange juice and he thought they would like it.

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

As I was standing in the kitchen looking at the list of ingredients on the juice bottle, this is the conversation that went down as my son was drinking his orange juice….

Me: Dan, this juice has corn syrup in it. So we can finish the bottle, but let’s not buy this again.

Bryce: This juice is delicious! What’s corn syrup?

Me: The syrup of corn.

Bryce: I love the syrup of corn!

Me: I’m just kidding Bryce. It’s a sweetener made from corn and it’s really bad for you.

Bryce: It’s not bad for me! It’s so good for me! I love this! I love this corn syrup juice!

Me: Well, enjoy it while it lasts because we’re not buying it again.

Bryce: We are going to buy it again! Aren’t we, daddy? Right, daddy? Right, daddy? Say yes. Say yes. Say yes.

Based on Bryce’s behavior, I would say Sunny Delight is crack for kids.

Now he refers to Sunny Delight as corn syrup juice and everyday he asks for some. Everyday he says, “Can I have corn syrup juice? Corn syrup is so good for my body and you need to get me some more. It’s good. It’s soooooo good. I love corn! I will eat if for dinner if you put some syrup on it.”

Yeah, we are never buying this again. Sorry, Sunny D.

Wanda Says…On the subject of Margaret, Playboy & Spin the Bottle.

December 3, 2014 / Wanda / 5 Comments

One of my favorite books from childhood is Are You There God? It’s me, Margaret by Judy Blume.

It’s a pre-teen, coming of age book about an eleven year old girl trying to handle a series of changes in her life. Margaret is growing up, and she has a hard time talking about puberty with her friends, or her fear that she may not be like other girls her age. So Margaret confides in God. Margaret talks to God about everything from her anxiety about fitting in at a new school, to her concern that her breasts aren’t growing fast enough. It’s charming, innocent and funny.

I recently bought this book for my daughter, Bryn. She loves to read and since this was a favorite book for me when I was her age, we have been reading it together. We sit on Bryn’s bed at night and take turns reading chapters to each other.

I remember reading this book as a ten year old girl and being fascinated because the characters openly talk about puberty and periods and their budding interest in boys. As a mother of a ten year old daughter, reading this book again gave me a completely different perspective. Keep in mind that I haven’t read this book in 30 years, and aside from the main storyline, I had forgotten quite a few important details.

There were multiple pop-culture references in the book that were appropriate for the time period and seemed to be no big deal when I was a kid. But having to explain those references to Bryn was not something I was prepared for. For example, in the book, Margaret and her friends swipe a copy of her dad’s Playboy Magazine so they can see the centerfold and speculate how their own breasts and bodies may look one day. As Bryn and I are reading this chapter, and Margaret and her friends are staring with wonder at the eighteen year-old centerfold, I’m thinking, “Oh dear God, what can of worms have I just opened?” And of course, Bryn looks at me with wide, startled eyes and says, “What is Playboy Magazine, and do eighteen year-olds really take their clothes off for pictures?!” Shit.

Oh wait, there’s more…

In that same chapter, Margaret’s friend sneaks a copy of her dad’s medical anatomy book, and the girls giggle and laugh as they look up pictures of the male genitalia. There are also scenes in the book where Margaret stuffs her training bra with cotton balls, and she and her friends attend their first co-ed party, where they have to play spin the bottle and go into the bathroom with a boy for two minutes and receive their first kiss. In another scene, the girls do arm and chest exercises that they believe will help their boobs to grow. And while they do these exercises, they chant “We must, we must, we must increase our bust!”

Bryn vacillates between laughing uncontrollably and hiding under the covers with embarrassment as we read together. I vacillate between sweating, stammering out my answers to her questions, and taking deep, calming breaths so I don’t shout, “You will never play spin the bottle! Do you hear me? Never!”

At one point, I had a moment of terror when I imagined her going to school and telling her friends about the juicier details of the book. I let her know that because we were reading this book together, and I felt she was mature enough to handle it, I was willing to answer her questions and be honest with her. But I couldn’t make that decision for her friend’s parents, so she had to agree to keep these discussions between us. I said, “No going to school and telling your friends about this crazy game called Spin the Bottle.” Yeah, I know, fat chance of that happening, but I had to try.

Despite the embarrassment and discomfort we both felt, it’s still a great book, and an age-appropriate way to start some important discussions. The mom in me rebels at the idea of her growing up, but the woman in me understands that it needs to happen. I want her to learn about puberty and periods from me, not her friends. I want her to always trust that she can come to me for anything, and it’s up to me to help her develop that trust through my willingness to be honest and have these tough conversations with her.

On a lighter note, Bryce must have been listening in on our reading, because the other day he was marching around the house chanting, “We must, we must, we must increase our bust!” 🙂

Wanda Says…When did dentistry become sexy?

November 25, 2014 / Wanda / 7 Comments

I had a dentist appointment today. I hate going to the dentist.

I suffer from a life-long fear and anxiety of all things dentistry. It began when I was a child. Our dentist did not particularly like working on children, and back then the attitude toward having dental work was very much a suck-it-up-buttercup mentality.

At my childhood dentist’s office, there was no room for sissies in the chair. Just a hygienist who was willing to hold you down while some sadistic fuck of a man who called himself a doctor would drill into your teeth without novocaine, or gag you until you threw up all over yourself, and then ridicule you for being upset about it. I could go into more detail, but I’m sure you get my point.

So I developed a deep and lasting fear of all things dentistry. So much so that in my early twenties, I just said to hell with it. Why pay someone to torture me with small instruments of pain? No, thank you. So I just stopped going to the dentist….for fifteen years.

Now let me say this…I have been blessed genetically with good teeth. And thank God for that, because I don’t think I would have survived if I’d ever needed braces. And I’m vain enough that if my teeth were jacked up or in pain, I would want to have them fixed. But thankfully I have nice, straight, even teeth.

Last year my wisdom teeth (which no one ever bothered to tell me should come out when I was a teenager) began to ram their way through my gum line. My top ones came in ten years ago, but I had room for them so figured I was fine just leaving them in. If I survived the pain of cutting teeth at 30, I was keeping them! But last year when one of the bottom molars started to present itself, it was impacted and there was just no way to put it off any longer. I was devastated and terrified, to say the least.

After a weekend spent laying on the couch in severe mouth pain, my husband dragged me to his dentist. He had been trying to get me to go for years, and finally, my pain and suffering was the last straw. Dan even scheduled the appointment, took time off of work and went with me. He’s awesome like that.

What shocked me is how much dentistry, and the image of dentistry has changed over the years. My husband’s dental office (and now mine as well) is lovely. Remember how dentists offices always had a certain smell to them? I hate that smell. This office doesn’t smell. The staff and hygienists are kind and considerate. Oh, and all the dentists who work there are hot as hell.

Seriously?

Yes, seriously. Like, doctor McDreamy hot.

When you look at the office’s website which has a page dedicated to each of the dentists in the practice, they read like celebrity bios from Men’s Magazine. They are all highly educated, certified and accredited from the best schools, and they are all easy on the eyes. Their photos are glossy, professional and highlight the athleticism of the doctor featured. Their bios read like, “aside from the charity work doctor so and so does for homeless children’s dentistry, in his free time he enjoys surfing, beach volleyball and working out.”

Is this a California thing? When did dentistry become the cool, hot guy profession?

And what’s even crazier is that my dentist is the most considerate, compassionate, do-anything-to-ease-your-fears-and-make-you-comfortable kind of doctor. He is amazing, and he won me over with his easy-going demeanor, sense of humor and understanding of my fears. He is patient and gentle, always.

And the truth is that I could give two-shits about how adorable he is. Good for him. What I truly care about is what a great dentist he is, and how he’s working successfully to change a stereotype simply by being the awesome doctor he is.

Now, despite doctor Dreamy’s awesome demeanor and my profoundly improved experiences with dental care, that didn’t stop me from wanting to cancel my appointment to avoid having my teeth cleaned today. I almost did. Last night, as I lay in bed dreading the next morning and having nightmares about needles and dental drills, I really wanted to fake-sick so I could cancel my appointment. My husband talked me out of it, and I didn’t want to disappoint him by acting like a candy-ass.

I did find it funny though that the dentists office called me, emailed me and texted me like, ten different times to confirm my appointment. When I mentioned the excessive confirmation process to my girlfriend, who also goes to the same dentist, she said, “Well it makes sense. They know you’re a runner.”

LOL! That I am!

Wanda Says…I’ve touched poop with my bare hands.

November 24, 2014 / Wanda / 16 Comments

I’ve done a lot of disgusting, undesirable things since becoming a mom.

For example, at various times and for various reasons I’ve caught both of my kid’s pee, poop, and vomit with my bare hands. This was usually in an attempt to redirect the flow or minimize the splash zone.

I’ve sniffed butts, armpits, underwear, diapers, and feet to determine the source of offensive odors. You know you’re a parent when you have no qualms, whatsoever, about picking up your small child and smelling their ass in public to determine if he or she has a poopy diaper.

When Bryn was three years old, she crawled into bed with me, woke me up and told me she had an upset stomach. I laid her down with me and began to rub her tummy while questioning her about her symptoms. Before I knew what was coming, she sat up and threw up all over both of us in the middle of my bed. It was everywhere. She was hysterical and we were both covered in vomit.

What? It’s just a little pee!

When my son was an infant he shot a stream of his pee into my open mouth when I was changing his diaper. With baby boys you can never let your guard down while changing diapers. You have to be focused and quick to avoid disaster. He was laying on his back on the changing table and I was talking to my husband. His timing was perfect. I was distracted while doing two things at once, and his pee shot straight up into my face as I turned my head and opened my mouth to talk. Believe me when I say that was a startling, gag-worthy experience, and one I hope never to repeat, ever.

Another time while at Disneyland with the kids, I was holding Bryce on my hip while waiting in line to meet Mickey Mouse. He was two and not yet potty trained. He peed and pooped in his pull-up at the same time, and the two substances mixed to form a watery concoction that leaked all over my clothes from my waist down to my thighs. I had extra clothes for him and was able to buy a new shirt for myself at the gift shop, but was at a loss to replace my jeans. I smelled like I had the Hershey squirts for the rest of the day, and I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

When my daughter was five we were in the bathroom at Midway Airport in Chicago, Illinois. Midway is a pretty nice airport, and their bathrooms are actually nicer than most, but when you have hundreds of people moving through them everyday they just can’t be that clean. Well, after using the facilities, my daughter accidentally dropped her favorite stuffed animal, a little orange cat named Spooky, into the airport bathroom toilet. We both froze. And then, without thinking, I did what any self-respecting, child loving woman with a Mom Card would do…I reached my hand into that Godforsaken pee-germ bowl of bacteria and I saved Spooky. I rinsed him in the sink of the bathroom, wrapped him in a roll of paper towels, and then asked the cleaning woman in the restroom to pour straight bleach on my hands. When we arrived at our hotel, I soaked Spooky in hot water and shampoo (it was the only soap I had). Bryn was sad that I wouldn’t allow her to snuggle Spooky after his traumatic nearly-flushed down the toilet ordeal, but she understood that he needed to be thoroughly decontaminated first. After arriving home at the end of our vacation, I put Spooky through a hot water cycle in the washing machine and high heat dryer before he found his way back into Bryn’s arms.

What I find noteworthy about these foul experiences with my children is how becoming a parent changes your reaction to them. Instead of becoming physically ill myself after being thrown up on, or grossed out by the ordeal, my first thought is of my child’s comfort, fear and how to make it better for them. Instinctually, my own needs become secondary to theirs. I will walk around Disneyland with my son’s poop on my jeans, and not make a federal case of it so he doesn’t feel shame. I will bathe and wash my daughter’s hair before I wash her vomit out of my own hair so she will know her health and comfort are more important to me than a little (a lot) of throw up. I will stick my hand in a disgusting airport bathroom toilet to save a beloved stuffed animal before I will allow my daughter to suffer that loss.

I have earned my Mom Card, and God only knows what their pre-teen and teen years will require of me.

Now I would love to know…What is the most disgusting thing you’ve ever done for your kids? 🙂

Wanda Says…I need another vacation.

November 20, 2014 / Wanda / 4 Comments

This is me, three days after coming home from vacation and trying to catch up on housework and deal with my children. For real.

Wanda Says…Keep calm and head to Chicago!

November 19, 2014 / Wanda / Leave a comment

This past weekend I went to Chicago, alone, for a girl’s weekend with some of my college friends. I needed a break from my stay-home-mommy-madness. I needed a break from laundry, dieting, cooking, and repeatedly asking small people to brush their teeth and put on their shoes.

I love Chicago, and it is my favorite city! Aside from being beautiful with endless cultural opportunities and diversity, there is a comfort and familiarity that always draws me in. Lakeshore Drive, Michigan Avenue, State Street, Navy Pier, Grant Park, Buckingham Fountain and the Shedd Aquarium all hold memories for me that span the first 25 years of my life.

Millennium Park

Some of my favorite memories include prom dress shopping at Lord & Taylor and Bloomingdales, attending the Taste of Chicago food festival, Cubs games, making a music video at Navy Pier (which I am still extremely embarrassed about), attending a friends fairy-tale wedding at the Hilton Towers, and endless nights of fantastically bad behavior while bar hopping with friends.

The weekend was amazing!

We spent time in downtown Chicago and went to Macy’s to look at the holiday windows. We had lunch at the Walnut Room and I felt the holiday spirit begin to rear it’s glorious head as I drank wine and allowed myself to be sucked into the moment .

Macy’s Christmas Tree in the Walnut Room

I believe!

We walked the city and visited Cloud Gate, or as the locals call it, The Bean, at Millennium Park.

The Bean!

We drank endless bottles of wine, ate tapas and sang at the top of our lungs in a lovely little dive bar. We reminisced over old memories and we laughed until our sides hurt.

I froze my ass off, but it was worth it!

I want to thank my friends for making themselves available to me when I desperately needed to escape from my life for a few days. Thank you, Jennifer, Katie, Amy N., Amy D., Jenn L., and Melissa. Thank you for being the wild, wine-drinking, fun-loving, adventurous women that you are!

I also want to thank my mother-in-law for the first class plane ticket to Chicago! You spoiled me rotten for my birthday and gave me a much needed boost to restore my sanity, and I can’t thank you enough! 🙂