Taking Back Tuesday: You Might Be a Hoarder When…

Posted on October 16, 2012 by momsaidwhat

Here’s hoping it never comes to this…

On my first “Taking Back Tuesday” after a lengthy self-imposed exile, I’ve decided to come clean about my hoarding tendencies before footage of my rescue from beneath a collapsed pile airs on the local evening news.

It seems that hoarding has a genetic component, I’m sure not unlike alcohol or drug addition.  My mom, the Captain, will being doing cartwheels knowing that this one gets planted firmly in my dad, Mr. Wonderful’s, pile of blame.  While the Captain sees absolutely no reason to hold on to even a morsel of nostalgia, Mr. Wonderful would surely find himself gasping for his final breath with a box of musty, old catalogs on his windpipe.  Fortunately he has been saved from death by hoarding by his lovely, clutter-busting wife who regularly throws away bits of his past when he pulls out of the driveway in the morning.

I’m sorry for blowing your secret, dear Captain.  Not that being outed will deter you from tossing Mr. Wonderful’s training manuals from his first sales job in 1973.  (Can’t say I blame you on this one.)

There is no doubt that my brother, the Golden Child, and I have inherited the hoarding trait from Mr. Wonderful; while our little sister, the Duchess, much like the Captain is liable to throw away your underwear while they are still on your body.  (Just ask her fiance about the whereabouts of his priceless antler collection; though I think she may have a point here.)  The Golden Child and I are just one traumatic event away from falling off the deep end, forever bound to the leftover crusts of this morning’s toast just in case a colony of bacteria is calling them home.  Just one crisis away.

Anyway, regardless of which of our parents are to blame for our tendency to place nostalgic value on every piece of chutch that has passed through our hands it has become clear by the bowing of my closet doors that the madness has to stop.  I’m feeling inspired and perhaps a shade jealous of the Golden Child who made a small fortune peddling his “treasures” from his driveway.  (He couldn’t call it a “garage sale” per se, as the garage is off limits due to safety concerns.  The hoard hides in the garage.)

Because I realize that there isn’t a large market for my dead grandmother’s “Love That Red” lipstick (found her last tube in a piece of her old furniture), so I’m deciding to devote this week’s “Taking Back Tuesday” to thinning the hoard. (Deep cleansing breath, Molly.  Hands above your head.  On a scale of one to ten, my anxiety’s about a seven.)

I’ve challenged myself to throw out five (gasp) items that I have absolutely no reason to hang on to; and no, Grandma Helen’s lipstick is not one of them.  So far I’ve earmarked my Alpha Chi Honor Society medallion (Don’t figure it holds the same value as the Purple Heart, and I certainly haven’t donned it since the ceremony.  Though it may get me into a couple of VIP rooms in Vegas.  Worked for Michael Phelps.)  I’m also tossing by half of my “Best Friends” locket I shared with my best childhood friend who moved away in the fourth grade.  (Anna, it doesn’t mean I love you any less.  I just think it’s time.)

I’ll be sure to let you know tomorrow what other pieces of my past didn’t make the cut.  For now, Grandpap Pete’s expired driver’s license is safe.

Whew.

Deep cleansing breath, Molly

 

 

Posted in Molly-isms | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

Sign of the Buffalo

Posted on October 15, 2012 by momsaidwhat

ImageThere’s so much about parenting that borders on nauseating.  I really mean that.  In no other social circles is it both permissible and acceptable to lick your thumb and wipe the face of another.  In fact, I can’t think of anyone other than the Captain who has ever groomed me with their saliva, not even my mate.

Dear Jeff, I thank you for that.

Saliva grooming is hardly the vilest of acts committed by the child rearing set.  I’ll cop to catching handfuls of Jeffrey’s puke for the sanctity of the carpet.  (Who wants to smell sour milk in their Berber for a month?)  Dignity, for me, was lost on the birthing table; I snag vomit like an all-star shortstop when nature calls.

I’ll tell you where I have to draw the line.  There is one place that I refuse to go as a parent, and it may come as a bit of a surprise given my willingness to cross boundaries of health and proper hygiene.  You can take this to the bank; you will NEVER, EVER, EVER hear me utter the phrase. “Use your words.”

EVER.

Period.

I’d like to know the etymology of this ridiculous parent lingo, as I certainly don’t remember the Captain laying those pearls of wisdom on us.  It was far more likely we were being tricked into playing “Let’s see who can stay quiet the longest,” rather than receiving any encouragement to rattle on or more clearly explain our position in an argument.   It seems that “use your words” has caught fire in the last few years, coming into fashion alongside scheduled play dates and the “time out.”

Perhaps it is because these innovations in parenting simply were not a part of my upbringing, that they affect me like a high pitched dog whistle.  We played with the kids in the neighborhood, thought about what we were doing, and the hell there would be to pay if we acted like jackasses, embarrassed the Captain or Mr. Wonderful, or brought shame to the family name.  “Use your words?” We got “The Sign of the Buffalo,” the universal McClelland family symbol for, “How about shutting the hell up for a minute cause you’re really getting on my last nerve.”

The rampant use of “use your words” reaches from toddlers to teens.  For grunting toddlers struggling to express their needs, apparently a condescending “use your words” gives them the vocabulary Merriam Webster.  For the older set, “use your words” begs the child to state their case in a bilateral negotiation.  Either way, I’m irritated.

I find myself wanting to crouch down on bended knee to meet these word-using parents on eye level (apparently this posture is a pre-requisite to dropping the line “use your words”), and say in a similar, sing songy tone, “Sign of the Buffalo.”

Posted in Molly-isms | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Check Me Out at A Hopeful Sign…

Posted on May 29, 2012 by momsaidwhat

One last post before I go….

http://ahopefulsign.com/making_a_difference/i-am-supermom

Posted in Molly-isms | Leave a comment

Taking Back Tuesday #’s 8 and Niner: See you after I crush the GRE

Posted on May 29, 2012 by momsaidwhat

I’ve decided my brain and my mental well-being can only hack so much.   I’ll be “Taking Back” this Tuesday and next by studying for the GRE.  I’ll look forward to sharing my experience with you when I return to momsaidwhat on June 11th.  Please come back!

 

Posted in Molly-isms | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Taking Back Tuesday #7: Mastering Middle School Math

Posted on May 22, 2012 by momsaidwhat

It’s Tuesday, Readers, and I’m taking back Humpday Eve by doing something reeeeeeeaaaaally wild and crazy…I’m studying basic math.

A few months back I took the first step toward enrolling in a PhD program by registering for the GRE exam.  Step number two has proved to be far more difficult in that now I actually have to study for the test which is rapidly approaching in two weeks. (Hello, May.  Where the hell did you go?)

I’ll be honest, I’m a complete, neurotic nerd when it comes to studying, grades, tests, papers, etc.; so I’ve been hitting the GRE study guides on a semi-regular basis for the past six weeks.  I have vocabulary flash cards literally stashed in every orifice of my being, because anytime is a good time for learning 🙂

Puke.

That being said, I’ll also have to admit that I have only been studying for the verbal portions of the exam; well, because I’m good at the verbal.  Math is a whole different story.  I haven’t taken a math course in at least a decade.  Needless to say, I’m a bit rusty.

When I say rusty, I mean:

-I’m that checkout girl who has to close down her register when the computer goes down.  How could I make change

-I use my fingers under the table when doing basic arithmetic so that I won’t embarrass myself.

-I know how much a new outfit at Macy’s costs when the sale is 50% off, but take another 30% off…thank God for those strategically placed, price check scanners.

-If someone asked me what time a train leaving Pittsburgh at 9:42 A.M., travelling westbound to Chicago at a rate of 62 mph would arrive in the Windy City?   I’d have to take a flight instead.

That bad.

That rusty.

That pathetic.

Today on Taking Back Tuesday I’m going to make my math teachers of yesteryear proud.  I’m going on YouTube to download every basic math concept the Khan Academy is willing to teach a math idiot like myself.

And what they can’t teach me…I’m calling my seven-year-old nephew William.  He can math circles around my sorry self, right from the front row of the first grade.

 

 

Posted in Molly-isms | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Did Something Crawl Under There and Die?

Posted on May 16, 2012 by momsaidwhat

Something died in my car.  Now I just have to find it.

I opened my car door this morning to put the baby in his carseat when I was hit in the face by hot, moist death.  It was that bad.  So bad I could taste it.

I became a bloodhound, smelling my child, his filthy, crumb-laden car seat, every inch of upholstery, to no avail.

I checked all four tires to see that I hadn’t unknowingly ammassed any road kill points.

All clear.

I opened the trunk to see if Jeff had stashed a corpse when he drove my car last week.

Nothing.

This leaves me with just one other place something rotten could be hiding…under my seats.

I’ll tell you that the thought of exploring just what may be causing the noxious odor under my seat is frightening to me.  I’m just glad that both the baby and our family dog have been ruled out.  Yup, that bad.

Unfortunately for me, I was running late this morning and did not have time, nor proper hazmat gear, to stick a hand under there.  I figured I’d have to deal with whatever it might be after work, after it had marinated in a hot car for eight hours. 

I rolled down the windows and turned up the radio.  Problem solved.

Today at work, I’ve narrowed it down to two possibilities

Best case scenario: a sippy cup full of milk that Jeffrey threw to the floor in protest.

Worst case scenario: the neighbor kid.

I’ll keep you posted.

 

Posted in Molly-isms | Tagged | Leave a comment

Taking Back Tuesday #6: Having an Ugly Cry

Posted on May 15, 2012 by momsaidwhat

I’m not exactly sure what my problem is today, but I just want to have a good, hard cry today.  Not necessarily because I’m sad about one particular thing or another, just feeling completely overwhelmed, frustrated, and a tad bit blue.

Since Taking Back Tuesday is a day to replenish myself and make productive my most unproductive, blah day of the week; I’ve decide to let ‘er rip. 

So here I am, alone in my room with my computer, just letting it all out and letting it go…and it feels really freaking could.  There’s just something about a good cry from time to time, and I mean a GOOD cry–the ugly cry. 

I’m sure you’re familiar with the ugly cry.  It’s not like you see in the movies where the acresses makeup remains on her eyes and the teardrops fall evenly and perfectly from her mascara rimmed eyes.  The ugly cry is the face contorting, makeup running, sounding like the possessed, whole body spasm producing wail.

Sometimes life just gets a bit overwhelming and you have to open the floodgates to clean out the emotional system. 

That’s how I’m taking back Tuesday.

Posted in Molly-isms | 1 Comment

Mondays with the Working Mom: Aunt Dot Speaks

Posted on May 14, 2012 by momsaidwhat

It’s funny how when you least expect it, you hear a voice from the past that sets your mind straight and puts it all in perspective.  On Monday mornings, I let my mind wander wherever it pleases during my dreaded morning commute.  This morning, for reasons only known by the Universe, my subconscious resurrected my long deceased Aunt Dot.  God rest her soul.

I’m sure you have an elder like Aunt Dottie perched atop your family tree, chain-smoking Kent King 100’s and griping about what a waste of money the space program is.   You wanted an opinion on something, Aunt Dot had one, and you better believe it wasn’t wrapped in so much as a shred of political correctness.  If nothing else, she was an honest woman.

Aunt Dot never showed up to our house empty-handed; tucked in her “grip,” her name for luggage, was always a bag of chocolate licorice and a 500-piece jigsaw puzzle to keep us occupied.

Knowing that I was completely devoted in my love for Michael Jackson, Aunt Dot came loaded with a stack of National Enquirers, which she referred to devoutly as “The Paper.” In fact, it was Aunt Dot who spent hours removing a comb tangled in a rat’s nest of my hair after I tried to give myself a jheri curl just like Michael’s.  I would have been the person in lily white Pleasant Hills to rock a jheri curl.

Part of me still just doesn’t believe she’s gone, even after all these years.  She passed away during exams in my first year of college.  I didn’t come home for her funeral because she never wanted anyone gawking at her dead body, and I knew I was respecting her wishes.  She would have wanted me to stay at school.

I guess I was just missing her today, wondering what she would think of her baby all grown up.  I wish she were here to give me advice, to meet my son, to tell me not to worry about money, to scratch my back until I fell asleep on her lap.   Some days I just want to be that worry-free kid again.

If I breathe deeply enough I can still smell the faint scent of Dove soap and stale cigarettes, just like the old days…

 

 

 

Posted in Molly-isms | Tagged | 4 Comments

A Mother’s Day Tribute to “the Captain”

Posted on May 11, 2012 by momsaidwhat

My mom, the Captain, has repeatedly cancelled Mother’s Day do to the thoughtless actions of her ungrateful children.  The years that she actually permits the observance of the blessed day are usually, by coincidence, the years that Mother’s Day falls on my dad, Mr. Wonderful’s, birthday.   The Captain spends the entire day  pissed off that Mr. Wonderful, once again, gets to shade her moment in the sun.

Because I only post Monday through Friday, today is my day to pay tribute to the woman who reminds me on a daily basis of the nine months plus 35 years I have been sucking the life out of her.  Today is Mr. Wonderful’s birthday.  I figure I’ll get extra points for writing about her on his special day.  (Yes, there are points assigned to Mother’s Day niceties in the McClelland Family, where even breathing is a competition.)

Last year my sister and I were shut out by my brother, the Golden Child and his touching photo montage.  This year the bastard grew a tumor to gain the sympathy vote, and my sister, the Duchess, is about to become a mother for the first time; so I figured I better go hard or go home.  Here are a few ideas I’ve been toying with to honor the Captain should she allow us to observe Mother’s Day this year:

1.)  The Golden Kegel Award 

For years the Captain has cautioned me of the dangers of a weak choo choo.  Think it’s funny?  Try walking around with your bladder hanging out, like a grapefruit between your thighs.  Not so funny is it.  Next time you’re in the bathroom, think about taking a few seconds out of your busy day to stop your urine flow.

2.)  The Roofie Awareness Lifetime Achievement Award

Since I left for my freshman year of college in 1994, the Captain has waged a fierce, fearless battle against the date rape drug Rohypnol.  Through her wide-reaching campaign cautioning women of the perils of leaving their drink unattended when they went to the ladies’ room, so many have been spared from an unthinkable crime.

I was always confused by the number of times she hit me with this message, because I was always in the library.  Silly Captain, they don’t serve drinks in the library.

3.)  The Why Buy the Cow When You Can Get the Milk for Free Award

For every parent of a daughter, this one is pretty self explanatory.  I’m still claiming Jeffrey to be conceived by immaculate conception, alien insemination, or the stork.

Or we can just spend all of Mother’s Day playing the Captain’s favorite party game, “Let’s Go Around the Room and Say One Nice Thing About Me.”  Who doesn’t like a forced compliment every now and again?

Happy Mother’s Day, Captain.  Thank you for all of the wisdom, both solicited and unsolicited, you have shared so openly with your three ungrateful children.  You help me everyday to be the best woman and mother I can be.  You are the standard.

Oh, and one nice thing about you…You’re girls still haven’t dropped one bit.  What more do you want?

Posted in Molly-isms | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

From the Archives….My Brother is my Mom’s Favorite Child

Posted on May 10, 2012 by momsaidwhat

Mom thought the Golden Child would want to attend Dad’s birthday party.

On the cusp of Mother’s Day, I thought I’d re-post last year’s reflections on the sacred day.  Tomorrow I’ll share with you the new ways I will be canonizing the Captain in honor of the blessed event this Sunday.  Be sure to tune in and wear a panty liner.  I’m bringing the funny…

It’s official.  My brother is my mom’s favorite child.  He sealed the deal and took the crown with this year’s Mother’s Day gestures.  My sister and I were left in the dust.  Lost by a landslide.

We hate him and his photo montage.

I think it’s important to note that last year Matthew’s card was late, forcing “The Captain” to declare an end to the Mother’s Day holiday forever.  She wrote her congressman, and the CEO’s of Hallmark and American Greetings, in a one woman effort to strike down this painful event once and for all.

She burned her bra in the front yard in an act of silent protest.

Imagine my surprise when “The Captain” called in tears, barely able to speak with emotion.  She had just received my brother’s card in the mail, three days BEFORE the- holiday-formerly-known-as Mother’s Day.  The card portrayed a young, tow-headed boy riding away on his bicycle with some sappy-assed saying about how she was always there for him, and how she still is there for him. Wamph wamph waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamph.

She wept as she read his well-crafted words:

Dear Mom,

To the most incredible woman I know.  I couldn’t have asked for a better mother or grandmother for my children.  I know that distance separates us, but always know that you are close in my heart.  Happy Mother’s Day.

Love, Matthew

Seriously???!!!!

He didn’t stop there.  All day my Facebook account is blowing up, people commenting on photos my brother had tagged me in.  I log on to find a photo montage paying tribute to “The Captain,” celebrating years of childhood memories, God-awful fashion, and some of the greatest moments of bad hair history.

Suddenly and without warning my gift to “The Captain” faded into obscurity, and with it my hopes of winning the title of favorite child. (In my humble opinion, nothing says “I love you” like IPad for Dummies for Seniors.)

Atta boy, Matty.  You are the favorite.  You are the star, her prize, her baby boy.  You win the battle, but not the war.  I’m banking on your procrastinating ways rearing their ugly head just in time for mom’s birthday.  I’m working on a custom macaroni necklace that will bring “The Captain” to her knees.  You’re done, Matthew.  D-O-N-E!

Posted in Molly-isms | Tagged , , | 1 Comment