What are they on?

Cartoons are evolving into something unrecognizable. Days are numbered for cartoons with talking animals, big headed people with small bodies, and underwater campfires. These are so old school.

As a parent, you become a connoisseur of fine kids TV shows (there aren't many). You notice the subtle differences between Hannah Montana and iCarly (Carly wins by a nose). You also take note of the complexities of Spongebob and you see a version of yourself in him (it's like the creators know you). Good TV shows are a rarity these days and good kids TV shows are even tougher to come by.

Just when you think you can't take another cartoon with a genius boy or another cartoon with a talking animal, cartoon creators give you something completely different. These cartoons make other cartoons (even Chowder) seem normal.

• Fanboy and Chum Chum on Nickelodeon. "Superheroes" who where their underwear over their clothes. These are the ultimate cartoon geeks.
• Adventure Time with Finn and Jake. I don't really know how to explain it. It's just... well... odd.

It seems as though these folks over at Nick and Cartoon Network searched deep into the caverns of their imaginations and pulled these 2 shows out. Miles likes these cartoons and so does Joe, it seems (I see him giggling while Miles is watching the shows). Maybe I haven't given these cartoons a chance yet. Perhaps they need more aging before I take a sip. However, I still wonder, What kind of drugs are the creators on?

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Running away

Every so often I get the urge to run away. Yeah, you heard me.

Miles and Caitlynn have both threatened to run away. They don't make it far before realizing no one will put up with their shenanigans. Usually Miles makes his empty threat after I tell him he's not allowed to ride his bike when it's 8:00 at night or when it starts snowing (it snows here in the spring).Caitlynn's threat comes after I tell her to go to bed or stop playing her Nancy Drew game. They end up listening to me but I feel the the beginnings of teenage angst as they storm into their bedrooms... "If I lived somewhere else I could play games all night long! Mama is so unfair!"

But I'm with them on this. I have mother's angst. Every time I clean up their messes in front my computer or survive one of Caitlynn's tantrums (very scary), I find myself thinking, "You know, if I lived somewhere else without them I wouldn't have to put up with this shit. It's so unfair!"

Sometimes I daydream about what my life would be like without the kids. What would I be doing? Where would I live? At one point after college, I seriously considered moving to New York City. I ended up in Chicago with Joe. Close enough. I doubt I would have moved to New York by myself. Instead, I'd probably be living in Ohio near friends and family dreaming of moving away to some exotic place, like Montana. Most likely I would have been a chef somewhere (hopefully not a Burger King), living with a couple cats, and mooching off of Stormy and Dave (I love you guys!).

As glamorous that life sounds, I cannot imagine life without my kids. Sure, they drive me nuts and I will always  day dream about running away, but I will miss them immensely.

Just last night, I stayed up half the night with Miles, who is sick. Sure, I'll get the flu from him and I'm extremely tired right now, but I would rather be here with him (and with Caitlynn) than anywhere else in the world, except for that lovely chateau in the French countryside where Brad Pitt is serving me breakfast in bed.

I love day dreaming.





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Does James Bond have a Mommy?

I have to take time out from my normal, crazy life and ponder important questions. You know, questions regarding fictional action heroes.

The other night I was watching a James Bond flick. No, not an old Bond film, but one of the new ones with the blonde Bond, Daniel Craig. As I was watching him chase bad guys and kiss pretty girls, I kept wondering about his personal life.

I have many questions about Mr. Bond...

Does he watch action films? Or is he a big softy and go for romantic comedies and sappy love stories? For some reason I can see him sitting back and enjoying a Lifetime movie.

Does he go home for Christmas?

Does he remember his mother's birthday? I certainly hope so.

What does his home look like? I picture a studio apartment with Ikea furniture. Nothing on the walls.

When he's in the middle of a car chase, or running after bad guys, does he ever wonder, "Did I turn off the coffee maker? Hmmm...keys, cell phone, gun, turn off coffee maker. Yep, I did. Whew!"

What was he like in high school? Loner, stoner, geek, nerd, or jock? Or that guy that no one spoke to simply because they were too afraid to speak to him?

Does he collect things? I'm guessing he has a secret collection of Beanie Babies that he only shows to girls he really likes.

A lot of these questions can be applied to Jason Bourne, too. However, Bourne didn't find out his true identity until the last film. I wonder if he was surprised when he got home to find the DVD collection of the Knight Rider TV series and a stack of Nicholas Sparks books next to his bed.

Who am I?






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When parenting gets hard....

You know, parenting is never easy. Good God, no. And if you are a parent who thinks it is easy, then just wait. You’ll get hit over the head one day and find yourself curled up on your bed hoping your fairy godmother can come rescue you. My fairy godmother won’t return my calls. Damn her.

I haven’t been writing too much lately, not because I’m busy with school and work (I am but that’s no excuse) but because things have been rather tense around here. For the sake of privacy, I won’t elaborate about what is going on, but it has to do with Caitlynn. Suffice it to say, she’s having a tough time. Her tough time makes it tough for Joe and I. Hence, it’s the point where parenting gets hard, really hard.

I desperately want to find some humor in our situation but it’s been difficult. Joe and I are tired at the end of each day. We have a bet going right now and the winner of the bet gets a night away from home. I hope I win, but I know Joe could use a break, too.

Miles seems to be rather unaffected by what is going on. He gets up, goes to school, comes home from school and rides his bike. He’s a happy-go-lucky kid. He gets in trouble – of course! – and it’s been fun hearing him try to rationalize his actions or blame the cat. Poor Dexter. He gets blamed for everything. It snowed yesterday. It's all Dexter's fault.

So, for the time being, I’m not able to write much or even visit some of my favorite blogs. I just don’t have the time or energy. Hope y’all understand.







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Adulthood

A couple weeks ago, I posted on my Facebook page "I just realized I'm an adult. When did that happen?"

I may be sarcastic, but I was actually being serious when I posted this. I did an assessment of my life and it dawned on me that I'm an adult. Dude, what a bummer. I guess the facts have been there all along, I'm just waking up to it: I'm in my 30s. I have 2 kids. I have a job. I pay bills. And I had open heart surgery. Going through that surgery is enough to age anyone. AND... I don't know who Justin Bieber is. Is he someone important?

But when did adulthood hit? Was it when I graduated from high school? I don't think so. How about when I graduated from college at the tender age of 22? Um. Maybe. But not really. I moved back in my mom and step dad until I found a job elsewhere.

Was I an adult when I married Joe? Well, technically I was, but I didn't feel like one. And I still don't feel like an adult.

Do I act like an adult? Most of the time. Ok. Ok. All of the time. I act like an adult 99.9% of the time. There are times that I feel like being the one to throw a temper tantrum over chocolate milk.

While I ponder my own adulthood existence and fret over gray hairs (I have way too many for my age), I'll leave you this to ponder...

An adage from the 60s (that's you, Baby Boomers) was "Don't trust anyone over 30."

So, if 40 is the new 30, then does the saying get bumped up to "Don't trust anyone over 40?" And if so, does that mean I'm not supposed to trust my husband, who is 40? Or is he ok for one year until he reaches 41 and then I'm not supposed to trust him? And what happens when I turn 40 (or 41)? Do I not trust myself?

I'm confused. Getting older sucks.

I want to be 5 again when all I had to do is remember my ABCs and counting to 20. The kids don't realize how good they have it right now.

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