In Which She Ponders the Array of Choices in Crackers:
I can't, CANNOT, seem to buy crackers successfully or with any sort of speed at all. Does anyone else have this problem? I get to that aisle and there is this ridiculous abundance of choice, and I get totally stuck, my eyes racing from brand to brand and subgenre of cracker (thin? thick?) to subgenre (wheat? rice? devoid of trans fat or...?). I stand in a sea of crackers for absurd stretches of time: Late July, Kashi, Tamari Rice, Health Valley, Stoned Wheat…
Sometimes I wish I were in a society where there was less choice. Like in a Communist country. There would be downsides, true. For example, there was probably no tamari rice cracker in East Berlin. So you have no tamari rice cracker and that blows. Then again, on the bright side, there's no tamari rice cracker. Just plain old crackers. You reach out, purchase them, and leave. No agonizing over the myriad cracker-options. No computing of individuated-cracker-to-price ratio. No boggling of the mind by something quite so thin, insubstantial, here-today-gone-tonight as a bloody square of compressed wheat. Or rice. Or puffed soy.
Yes, buying crackers is paralyzingly tricky for me. And now my staggering inefficiency at cracker-choosing has morphed into a newfound blankness at the bread aisle too. I am in a new place and the breads are strangers to me. So much so that after a glacial eon of hesitation had me frozen in the bread section last week, Crabtot leaned toward me from her perch in the cart and said, "For God's sake, Mommy!"
Quite right.
In a related point, I had what I think will turn out to be a typical Crabcity moment. Here in my new west coast world, the local QFC grocery store baking aisle sports an eyecatching mix called "hemp brownies." Now that's a happy toddler for you! They also sell bongs and didgeridoos at this grocery.
Okay, not quite.
In a slightly unrelated segue: I had one of my first truly crunchy-west eavesdropping experiences. At a playground, a dad with Willy Nelson braids was telling some German woman a recipe. "You just sauté the tofu, add some Kashi, then hot sauce, then the flax seed and only AFTER the ginger do you put in the bulgur. You can also use quinoa instead. The kids really love it." And then they headed off for cranio-sacral massages.
But sadly, I love Crabcity so much that it is hard to make fun of. For now. Which is probably good. Because apparently I am not funny anyway: I am still smarting a tad from an incensed reader who commented over at the bloglet on my piece, When Parents Attack! Feel free to tell her off for me if you have oodles of time and can think of nothing better than wading through the pop-ups on my bloody bloglet. Please feel free to lob a zinger at that lady. I have said enough. In fact, I shouldn't have said a thing. I mean, who does she think she is, attacking me like that? I'm the one who gets to talk smack about other moms, not her!
Sheesh. The nerve.
Stay tuned. I have a host of pithier posts coming up. And hold on, hold on until June when the C-tot hits school and my personal website here will get more attention. Plus I will also be doing more giveaways. Which will cause many of you to label me a blog-whore but hey, WHO CARES if I can get me some free swag. And you. Because the truth of it is that if I want to run with the big gals in this here blogging world—and I do (because it's my "work")—I need to offer something to rival the riveting content of fundmentalist Christian homeschooling blogs. No, seriously, I am lining up some good stuff for these freebie festivals. Some of the swagginess is personally gratifying: sweet, cheapo, but beautiful and original things I have found with my own eyes and which benefit the world's natural environment in huge ways, while simultaneously raising money to feed everyone everywhere, all the time. And that can mean only one source here at Crabmommy: the Dollar Store.
Okay, what was I saying? Dollar Store prizes aside (and there are always more of those to come on this site), I'm working on finding cool and delectable and nifty things to give away. And I have found some good goodies that are good and do good. But that's only some of the loot. Other stuff is sheer utter corporate swagibility that is to be foisted upon this blog readership. My motto: if they bring it, I will fling it! At my readers, that is. Mind you, I have already nixed a wide array of useless and ugly and cheesy stuff, so don't think I'm not discriminating. There will be only quality loot in these giveaways. Ish. So rest assured.
Now, for those who think giveaways are completely lame and wankish: I'm going to do them on weekends so as not to interfere with the HIGH ART and literary-minded parenting pursuits I like to delve into in the week. Fair?
As for you who want to know what I want for Mother's Day (the sixty million dollar question that has been clogging up my inbox [joke]): nothing. I want nothing at all and I mean it literally. And as we moms all know, a day of nothing at all is hard to come by.
Anyone else got a randomoment to share? Or something to tell us about Mother's Day? What's MD all about at your crib?
I wish you all a good one and please God, not breakfast in bed. May you not receive breakfast in bed. (Am I the only one who does not like b in b?)
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Randomommy #3, Observations from the Domestic Frontier
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15 comments:
I loath b&b.I dread b&b. I offered to get up and whip cream for the pancakes so I could avoid b&b. (does anyone remember that stomach turning commercial: "...we dont' have the stuff to make pancakes.") They're not going for it. I might go for b&b if I didn't know I'd have to eventually haul my butt out of bed to clean up the ungodly mess created by hub and children concocting b&b.
And I never get it right anyway; I'm not sure of the parameters. Can I get up and shower? Can I get up to pee? Do I have to pretend to be asleep? Should I fake surprise? At what point do I scream at my lazy kids to get the frig OUTTA BED, mommy's getting hungry!!!
Every year, the only gift I've ever requested on Mother's Day is for my kids to stop bitching/whining/fighting/crabbing (no offense). So far, nadda. But this year is looking up; we get to attend a model train show (wtf?!?! should this not be offered on Father's Day weekedn...?). In a nod to moms, there is also a giant used crap sale in the same building. I'm all atwitter.
I just read the Cookiemag blog. (frig signing up there, too complicated)May I suggest that CC's cookies aren't the only thing that's crumbling in her world? She needs a re-lax. Breakfast in bed, perhaps? A little gin in the teapot? My grandma didn't call it 'mommy's little helper' for nothing.
Crabmommy, CLEARLY you are failing to recognize this person's obvious superior parenting skills. I mean, jeez. Bow down already.
As for mother's day, I'd like to spend some special quality time with a Stephen King novel and a cheese sandwich. Or two. Yeah, two sandwiches.
Love the crabiness here. My last b&b resulted in a bed full of coffee and a dog making away with my stale bagel. I'm considering running away for the day. Or going on strike. I saw that on a made for tv movie of the week once. If it can work there then I'm sold.
The bloglet attacker: she really did drive the point home. What a cow!
I'm having a moment of sympathy for the unfortunate young women who will, perhaps, one day become mothers to CC's grandchildren. She's the kind of mother-in-law that could cause real problems in a marriage.
I'm with everyone here on breakfast in bed for mother's day. There is nothing good about it. Instead, I'm escaping with my mother, grandmother and sister for breakfast without children. Following breakfast, we'll find something to do - anything at all - to delay going back.
The bloglet attacker has a need to respond to every single comment back at her...that should tell you all you need to know right there. She is so defensive and insecure, it IS scary.
I've never had b in b. Last year was my first mother's day (spent adopting in China), so I have no idea what might happen this year...although, if it involves any more family togetherness time in my bed, I'll pass. I get plenty of togetherness in the form of my kicking and squirming tot when she climbs in most mornings around four, thank you very much.
wow! cookiecrumbs really seems to have too much time on her hands.
New here-
and wow! Cookie crumbs is bananas! Wonder what her sprited children were doing when she was busy playing high and mighty and mean... hmm. ickyness.
Love your blog!!!
That crunchy recipe sounds god-awful. But puzzlingly (is that even a word?) I want to taste the outcome.
Considering cookiecrumb's confusion over how blogs work, how punctuation works, and how the term "snark" works, I actually want to compliment her for figuring out how to power up that big scary computer machine and get it to her let her onto the internets. But I'm not going to register at cookie to do so.
I hate b and b.. hate is to light of a word- detest is better. I would love a day of nothing but at the beach.. with my laptop.. that's it.. oh and by the way cookiecrumbs is probably the same hag that I ran into at a local pizza joint and chastised me for letting my 3 year old take a sip of my diet coke
I just found your blog (I was blog surfing, because I have nothing better to do with my life - haha), and just wanted to say HELLO! And you make me laugh. Loud. And I love it. Thank you. :D
Mother's Day? We should call that Mommyrella's Day. This is the one day where I get to go to the ball, and the fam can do all my work. Think I'm kidding? I made them a list, room-by-room, bullet pointed, of how I clean the house and would like it done. At the top, I put "Do weekly grocery shopping 'See attached list.' Wash, fold, and put away all laundry. Have dinner ready by 6:30." My son called it "slavery." I answered, 'Yes. But I do this every week and you only have to do it one day in 365.' Then I told him he and his dad and sis had better start on Saturday to get it all done. Forget breakfast in bed. Wash my sheets.
"...And then they headed off for cranio-sacral massages."
God, you make me laugh!!!! That was perfect!
MDay should absolutely be a day when we get to run away from anyone attempting to cling to (or get into) our skirts (husbands included ... obviously). Kid concocted bnb should be outlawed, as we will already be in a hotel room, alone, ordering bnb from room service sometime around noon. With accompanying cocktail. For God's sake, if we can't avoid being mothers on Mother's Day, when can we?
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