Tales from the Dark Side

A big smooch to all of MomBrain’s drunken companions who left their favorite hangover remedies in the last post. I’m afraid MomBrain is just not that experienced with hangovers. My only truly drunken rampage occurred on a cruise ship and it was all my sisters’ fault. After throwing me down on the Lido deck, Sister K put her foot on my delicate princess-like neck and Sister N poured tequila down my throat for several hours. And Sister L is not without responsibility. She was 8 months pregnant and just stood by laughing and laughing her jelly belly laugh.

I am here to tell you that MomBrain is a very cheerful and talkative drunk. I am also here to thank Sisters N and K for saving my alcohol-poisoned, dying self the next morning by throwing me into a cold swimming pool. I was not the only bloated seal floating face down under the water slide, but I was perhaps the most grateful and the most resolute: I Will Never Get Drunk Again.

Random Notes

The Timekeeper … MomBrain made the very horrible mistake of giving the Little Guy a zipper pull with a digital watch on it. It was only a dollar at Target, and who can resist that? But LG is now covered with bruises because he stares at his zipper pull constantly, including while he’s walking. Also, our morning conversations have been reduced to variations of one recurring sentence: “MOMMY!!! IT’S 8:38!!!” followed by “MOMMY!!! IT’S 8:39!!!” until mercifully we are at preschool and IT’S 9:00!!!

Shout Outs … My new stats counter has a time zone map of all the people who click into MomBrain. And hey – there’s five people in Africa! I’m guessing those hits are from Iraq, probably from friends of Navy Corpsman Sean at Doc in the Box. So here’s a big shout-out to the troops who stumble into my little corner of the Blogosphere. MomBrain thinks about you every day.

Help Wanted

Oh. My. Goodness. Somehow MomBrain has agreed to write seven articles, all of them due on June 1. Since the Little Guy is in preschool only 8 mornings between now and then, that means one article a day. Fly, little fingers, fly!!!

How can you help? Thanks for asking! Tell me your best hangover rememdy – just put it in the comments or email me.

Also in the works – an essay I really care about and want to finish, another essay I want to start, 3000 words of a novel that feels promising, and way too many ideas that I have no time to pursue.

The span of my life seems to alternate between periods when I have lots of time but no money, and enough money but no time. Why is that? When will I have time and money together?

Birthday Madness

There is a boy in my bed, wearing nothing but his Incredible Hulk underpants and my lavender-scented eyemask. He is lying on his back, sucking his thumb. He is five years old.

Today is the Big Party. Now, by some standards, MomBrain is a very, very bad mommy. Do I bring in ponies? No. Do I rent a moonbouncer? No. Do I hire clowns? Hell, no. We are simply meeting a bunch of kids at the local park, where we’ll have cake and ice cream and presents followed by a free-for-all at the playground. Five-year-olds don’t need more than bikes, bubbles, and sidewalk chalk to have fun, so that’s exactly what we’re providing. My nine-year-old niece Girly Girl has agreed to be law enforcement. My fourteen-year-old niece Sweetie will be attending to presents and food. And Sister N, with an Eye for Beauty, is the Official Party Photographer. The rest is just fun, fun, fun.

Of Hostages and Birthday Cake

MomBrain is back from a lengthy absence in which she was held hostage by her other personality, Suzy Snowflake. Suzy is a sad, sad girl who likes to look at her bellybutton a lot. She also sleeps a lot and eats nothing but Oreos. Poor MomBrain is bound and gagged in the corner while Suzy writes very bad poetry about dead leaves in the gutter of life, forgets to shower, and misses all of MomBrain’s deadlines.

Eventually Suzy gets tired of herself and MomBrain manages to break free of her restraints. We stretch. Eat salad. Wonder how fast we can lose the three pounds of belly fat that Suzy left behind. And start typing.

Today is the Little Guy’s fifth birthday. Every sentence begins with “Since today is my birthday and I’m turning five …” and ends with some variation of “Can I eat breakfast in front of the TV?” or “Can I not go to school today?” And I can barely squeak “No” because I am so misty-eyed remembering my little peanut.