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Oh, Yeah, It’s Monday

The posts have been light as of late for several reasons:

  • I’m busy. So busy that I think of things to say, but when I sit down at the keyboard, I have something ELSE to do rightthissecond, and by the time I get back to the glowing screen, I have forgotten what I was going to say. That long slow slide into senility has begun, my friends.

  • I’m angry. So many things lately have made me so mad, I don’t know what to say anymore about anything. I’m sure that whole menses thing this past week hasn’t helped my current frame of mind, but even today, on the last day of my period I am SO MAD I could scream. Actually, I just did.
  • I’m tired. I love my job. I love the kids. I love the people I work with. What I don’t love? This nasty Florida heat. It starts early and only gets hotter as the day progresses (as only heat does, by the way). It’s hot, it’s nasty, and it saps me of my energy and desire to do anything but become one with my sofa and nap after school. I’m excited that we are dropping into the 80′s this week, and that’s sad.
  • I’m frustrated. Too much to do and not enough time to do it in. Since the school seems to frown on kids coming to school naked, I have spent the past few weekends doing laundry so my family has clothes to wear. I have also made appointments and then forgotten what day they are on, thus not showing up. I hate when I’m on the receiving end of that, so I hate it even more when I’m the one DOING it.
  • I’m angry, part 2. My niece’s boyfriend has decided to have a “mid-relationship” crisis 3 months into their relationship, and my heart goes out to her. My fist would like to go out to his face, but lucky for him I haven’t been out to the apartment they share. He lives another day, but only until I find out where they live. Then it’s on!!!
  • I’m embarrassed. I scheduled a meeting with Spiff’s teachers several weeks ago. So what do I do? I miss the meeting. Completely. I realize it several hours later and am immediately apologetic. I more than anyone know how precious teacher’s time is, and I’m mortified that I made them adjust schedules and never showed up or called to cancel. In my defense I had no way to call once I realized it, and that day was crazy beyond belief. Regardless, I’m mortified and embarrassed. I also sent each teacher an apology email.
  • I’m sad. Just when I think that things are improving in Scamp’s class, the teacher tells me he had a “difficult day” or I hear him say to his Nintendo DS “You make me VERY angry.” He’s doing much better, and I think she FINALLY understands that what he does is not intentional. It just breaks my heart that he says things like that based on what his teacher tells him when he doesn’t do what she would like him to do.
  • I’m optimistic. Tomorrow is another day.
Posted by Shash @ 10:47 pm | 2 Comments   | September 17, 2007

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An Open Letter to Britney Spears

Dear Brit Brit,

May I call you that? I mean, thanks to the advancement of technology, I have seen more of you than I think you meant me to. At least, that’s what I like to tell myself; that you really didn’t mean to show the known universe your girly bits. So, since I’ve seen your va-jay-jay in all it’s glory, I think we can call each other by our nicknames. Mine’s Shash, by the way. Nice to meet you.

Allow me to broach the subject of the VMA awards, if I may. Brit, this was supposed to be your big comeback, and since we’re practically family I can be honest and tell you that it wasn’t your finest moment. Sweetie, what the hell happened? The hype was HUGE, and you bought into it and allowed everyone to think you had this spectacular performance in the works. EVERYONE, and I mean EVERYONE was rooting for you. Even your detractors, probably. Sadly, you didn’t deliver, and most importantly, it looked like you didn’t even care. I think the hardest thing about watching all the news shows discuss your performance (or lack thereof) is the realization that the people reporting and discussing it actually don’t want to have to do it. No one wants to report this story because we all had high hopes for you, Brit. And you let us down.

Seriously.

I think we can all admit to mistakes we have made in our youth; marriages we shouldn’t have entered into so young (raises own hand), bad career choices (again with the hand raising), days when our parenting skills veered dangerously off the path that is good (raises hand slightly), and days when we kind of lost our minds just a tiny wee bit. (waves hand around)

Brit, we’ve all been there, done that. It happens. Mistakes are made. You live, you learn. Blah, blah, blah. Life goes on, and you grow up. Even if you’re hounded by cameras, or even if you are not, we ALL make mistakes. The object is, at some point, you learn from them. The mistakes, I mean.

The point here is that I think the sounds you are hearing from the universe at large is that we’re worried about you, Brit. VERY worried. At some point, when life hands you a shame spiral cone with sprinkles on it you realize that changes need to be made. Last night’s appearance at the VMA’s reminded everyone that you are a long way from learning from your mistakes.

I could sit here and tell you that your outfit you wore on stage was about 3 years too late for you; that probably every woman watching you last night that has given birth to children sympathized with the limits of your current body (raises hand high into the air). You’re a beautiful girl, of that there is no doubt, but even the most beautiful girl needs to strategize what to show after having a baby (or two). The girls (your boobs) at one point looked as if they wanted to run off the stage before you did. That’s not a good sign, Brit. Well, unless that was the plan, but I don’t think so…I hope it wasn’t intentional. Because? Yikes.

Maybe it’s time to re-open the pathway back to your family, Brit. Maybe some time out of the spotlight, away from the parties and the dancing and the clubbing will do you good. Some nights in, playing games with good friends and family, away from prying eyes. Might I suggest picking up a copy of Dance Dance Revolution for those nights you’ve “gotta dance”. It’s one of my favorites. Nothing brings a family closer together faster than a competitive game or ten. A family favorite here at Casa de CrazedMommy is Phase 10. Just trying to help. In that same vein? Keep the backup dancers off the guest list. You know, for obvious reasons.

Brit, I feel the need to point out that many of the people who worked for you while your mother handled your career have remained mostly mum about you. The newer help? Not so much. It might be worth your while to consider rekindling those older relationships. You need a few extra hands to help you out. And you know what? That’s okay. There are many of us that would like to have a few extra sets of hands helping us out with the daily drudgery that makes up a person’s life. If an extra set of hands could show up at my house each day and develop, shop, prep and cook meals each day in my house; well, that would be a little slice of Heaven, let me tell you!

I think that many people who care about you, and many people who don’t think as highly of you as some others would not mind at all if you took a step back and reassessed just exactly you want to do with the rest of your life. But, Brit? What you are doing right now isn’t working. It really isn’t.

But here’s the thing, – if you don’t want to perform anymore then don’t. If there is something else you want to do that you thing you’d be good at, give it a go. But take some time to figure it all out. No one would fault you for doing that. As you can see there are people who will wait for whatever decision you come up with. What you need to realize is that those people care about you. They want you to succeed. Sure, there will ALWAYS be people who will want to see you fall, and gladly photograph you as you do just that. Don’t worry about them. Do whatever makes you happy. But own it, and want it. Don’t keep doing this half-assed thing you’ve been doing for awhile now. It’s not fooling anyone, except maybe you, and that’s not the one to fool.

Please, Brit. From someone who is not an uber-fan, but sees what you are doing and as a mom it hurts her to see you self-destruct like this when it is so unnecessary; take a breather. Enjoy those boys. Soon enough they will be grown and it might be better for them if the memories they have of the times they shared with you were a bit more private. Mend those fences, if you can. Some of us don’t have that luxury, and it is exactly that.

Most of all? Be happy. Really, really happy. With you, with your kids, with life. Everything else will fall into place. I swear.

Take care, Brit.

Most Sincerely,

Shash

Posted by Shash @ 12:09 am | 9 Comments   | September 11, 2007

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Can’t Talk, Sore Throat

I’ve been sick for the past week now, and I’m ready for it to be over. I’m behind on EVERYTHING, and I need to get caught up. Then I’ll be back. Promise!!!

xoxoxoxo,

Shash

Posted by Shash @ 1:40 am | 2 Comments   | September 10, 2007

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Memories and Milestones

Today, Spiff turns 13. I am officially a parent of a teenager.

I’m officially freaking out.

This week, both of my boys have learned that summer is officially over.

Spiff learned that he has to pay attention more than ever now that he is in 7th grade.

Scamp learned that mommy will leave you at the door of your classroom, with a kiss and a hug, but she will go, no matter how hard you cry. This is because she knows that within 10 minutes, you will be fine, and laughing with your new-found friends.

Spiff learned that when you turn 13, you get all your favorite foods, which include pizza, pickles, and Italian ices.

It’s good to be thirteen.

Posted by Shash @ 1:14 am | 1 Comment   | September 1, 2007

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