Fluid Pudding : Page 90 of 122 : It's the old small talk!

Unlike her mother, Meredith can cut a rug! Figuratively!

When I was in the seventh grade, I went to a dance. Less than thirty minutes after arriving (and feeling like someone from another land as I watched over 100 people smiling and air-knocking simultaneously to Who Can It Be Now), I knew that dances were not my thing. After a bit of semi-frantic wandering behind the scenes, I quickly learned that the student council members were running the snack booth in shifts, so I wandered over and struck a deal.

Me: I know I’m not part of the student council, but my change-making skills are impeccable.

Popular girl: You have to be on the student council to work here. We each have to work a thirty minute shift.

Me: I understand that, but I also understand that it’s only a matter of time before Centerfold starts playing, and you would probably rather be dancing to THAT than hanging out back here. Me? I would rather be selling Coke and Laffy Taffy than just about anything else right now. I CURRENTLY HAVE AN “A” IN MATH.

Popular girl: Well, if you promise not to steal any of the money…

Me: I’m BAPTIST.

For the rest of the night, whenever a student council member would show up for a shift, I would kindly relieve him or her so I could continue to hide behind the metal box of quarters. I Never Went To Another Dance. Ever. No. Not Even Prom.

The list titled Things I Hope My Daughters Don’t Inherit From Me is longer than you think, and one of the items on that list is “483. My complete inability to let go and dance.”

On Saturday night, Jeff took Meredith to a dance celebrating the 99th anniversary of Girl Scouts. I am pleased (elated, even) to report that Meredith never felt the urge to sit in a tiny room and sell candy bars. (I put together the following video (with a bit of my own editorial commentary, because my opinions are Important when it comes to Ke$ha) as a bit of a souvenir for Meredith. Feel free to watch it if you want.) ((Also, please know that had I been at the dance, I probably would not have allowed Meredith to keep jumping off of those bleachers. Buzzkill, thy name is Pudding.))

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Only One More Day for This One!!! I’m giving away some more energy-conserving light bulbs, and I would love for you to win. People have been leaving some great tips on how they conserve energy around the house! Come on over for your chance to win!

I am drinking Tropicana Pure Premium and giving away a $100 Visa Gift Card! Leave a comment for your chance to win!

I went shopping at Walgreens, and now I’m giving away a $100 Walgreens gift card! Come on over! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Well, hello there! I believe I’m 80% Tiger Mother!

A few months back I noticed that Amy Chua was making the talk show rounds discussing her book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. After watching a few of the interviews, I sort of knew that I would probably never read the book, and I sort of knew that I would never want to be friends with Ms. Chua. Her kid made a birthday card for her and she gave it back and demanded something better?! What sort of parenting is that?!

My church book club selected Battle Hymn for our summer book, and I quickly signed up for it at the library because I knew that I didn’t want Ms. Chua to receive any royalty cash from me. When I made my library request, I was something like request number 394,492 with four copies in circulation. It was doubtful I would ever see the book. No big deal.

Apparently, some sort of hiccup took place in the system, and I got the call from the library a few days back. Please know that I’m sort of glancing around the room before I type this next sentence for fear that Katie Couric will walk out of my bathroom and roll her eyes at me, but: After reading the first 68 pages, I’m finding that I’m actually agreeing with MANY of the points that Chua makes in her book. MANY of the points! (I don’t really care if Katie Couric rolls her eyes at me. I think we could make up over burritos, and everything would be Just Fine.) ((Do you know that I make my kids correct their homework, because I find it unacceptable for them to make mistakes when they have the convenience of time to complete things accurately? I’ve also been known to make them correct things that they bring home from school. I know we’ll eventually reach a time when I can no longer enforce Correction, and I’m hoping the habit sticks so they eventually do it by choice, or just get things right the first time. We’ll see.)) (((How about that burrito, Katie Couric?!)))

It is now becoming clear to me that most of the people who interviewed Ms. Chua never read the book. Like me, they received the bulleted points that most of the articles puke out—the points that make Chua look absolutely callous and semi-abusive. And, sure. On the surface, it might seem a bit weird that Chua loaded the car with her daughter’s dollhouse and threatened to donate it to the Salvation Army piece by piece if the child didn’t perfect a particular piano composition by the next day. (Do you remember when I, smelling like a freshly showered Cinnamon Bun, went on a rampage and threw all of my kids’ toys away? We all have our moments, no?)

Anyway, peppered throughout the book (at least the first third that I’ve read so far) are things that really hit home (and sometimes sting a bit). For example:

Western parents worry a lot about their children’s self-esteem. But as a parent, one of the worst things you can do for your child’s self-esteem is to let them give up. On the flip side, there’s nothing better for building confidence than learning you can do something you thought you couldn’t.

As Chua has said time and time again, this is NOT a parenting manual. This is a memoir. AND, if you treat it as a memoir and NOT a handbook, it’s not difficult to find the humor in it. (By the way, it’s very refreshing to be reading it simultaneously with Let’s Panic!) I’m actually considering purchasing the book when my library time is up, just so Penguin can shoot a fraction of a cent toward Ms. Chua for me. It bothers me that Joy Behar gave her such a hard time. It bothers me that I did That Thing where I judged another parent before knowing the whole story. (And I don’t even know the whole story! I know only 68 pages worth of the story!) Once again, we’re all doing our best, and my best is different from your best, and our best is different from Joy Behar’s best, but the fact remains: Everyone (probably) Loves Cake Balls. And later this week, I’ll show you exactly how to make them.
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Only Three More Days for This One!!! I’m giving away some more energy-conserving light bulbs, and I would love for you to win. People have been leaving some great tips on how they conserve energy around the house! Come on over for your chance to win! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I could never give up pancakes.

Meredith has decided that she is interested in the concept of Lent, but is more excited about what you put into it than what you take out of it. For example, she has decided to give up gum for 40 days (which isn’t really a big thing being that I don’t allow her to chew gum more than once or twice each month), and has set the goal of finishing her current book by the time Lent is over. Harper has decided that she wants to give up her excessive use of the word Like during Lent. I’m behind that choice 100%, and will encourage Meredith to join Harper in her efforts. (Am I a bad mom for accusing my kids of using Lazy Language when they, like, say Like, like three times during each sentence? It drives me insane, and I’ve reached the point where *I* loudly say LIKE every time THEY say like, which drives them nuts. It’s all about reciprocity, no?)

As for me, I’m not really a Lent type of person. I was raised to believe that Lent is for Catholics, but I’ve learned since then that what I was raised to believe isn’t necessarily true. Instead of giving up chocolate or Facebook or mustard (or Indian food or cake balls or grilled cheese horseradish sandwiches), I believe I am going to focus more on keeping my mouth closed and my ears open. (Just last night I found myself regretting about fifty things that I had said earlier in the afternoon, so practicing The Fine Art of Reticence with a Bent Ear couldn’t come at a better time.) This evening our church is having a Pancake Dinner to bid a ritual farewell to certain foods for Lent. As many Christians do, I’m picking and choosing which traditions to stand behind. I Will Always Stand Behind a Pancake Dinner.

Are you giving anything up for Lent? Do you, like Meredith, set a goal to put something back into the next 40 days? I’m curious to hear what Fluid Pudding readers out there are doing from now until Easter.
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I’m giving away some more energy-conserving light bulbs, and I would love for you to win. People have been leaving some great tips on how they conserve energy around the house! Come on over for your chance to win! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Kidneys, Veterans, My Head, and Balls of Cake

The kidney people used to call a few times each month to ask if I would put some sort of donation out on my front porch. Inevitably, I would forget to put the donation out until midnight the night before they were to come by, and then I would get all cranky and run around my house yelling and and throwing things into bags and boxes and cursing about kidneys all the while. More often than not, the kidney people would then NOT come by, and my bags and boxes would sit there until I packed them into the back of my car and drove them to the little yellow house charity thing at my kids’ school. After three instances of no-show kidney people, I asked them to take us off of their call list.

Last week the veterans called. Today I gathered two bags full of clothing and shoes and coats and whatever and will put them on the front porch before eight in the morning. I’m counting on you to be more reliable than the kidney people, Veterans. If this is the beginning of a successful charitable/reliable relationship, I may even donate a KIDNEY to one of you for the sake of irony and goodwill. (You might think I’m joking. I’m not joking.) Let’s make this work.

Thanks to all of you for the fun suggestions on the review site. Like I said, I’m still sort of swimming and throwing balls around at this point, but when it’s time to make a decision (possibly during the week of the 21st?), you’ll be the first to know what I come up with.

Speaking of the review thing, do you remember last month when I was lamenting about the headshot thing? I talked to Julie at Sungazing about setting something up and then I started spinning around and crying about haircuts and eyeliner and feeling uncomfortable with the idea of being within 300 feet of a camera, and suddenly we were scheduled to hook up with a few friends for lunch last Friday, and because my hair was cut (and I was okay with NOT using liquid eyeliner) a headshot appointment seemed like just the thing to do! We met up on Delmar and despite the fact that I’m a big apprehensive baby, Julie Worked Magic. Never before have I actually been happy to see a photo of myself. Julie is so talented and fun and she honestly loves what she does, which made the whole experience breezy.

On Friday night, I went to my second ever trivia night, and I’m convinced that I should go to MORE trivia nights because even though I’m not very good at them, they’re really sort of fun, aren’t they? Our table won the Best Decorated Table award, and that may have been because no other tables were decorated, but it also may have been because someone at our table owns a laminating machine! (It’s becoming really clear to me lately that I’m surrounded by amazing people.)

This week will be spent celebrating Jeff’s (40th) birthday, making more cake balls (have I talked to you about my cake ball thing?), and possibly planning a (very) small getaway. Meanwhile, I’m holding out hope for the Vietnam Veterans of America and their ability to pick up my (gently used) stuff.
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I’m giving away some more energy-conserving light bulbs, and I would love for you to win. People have been leaving some great tips on how they conserve energy around the house! Come on over for your chance to win! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Nobody likes The Pudding Probe.

For the past three years or so, I’ve been doing the review writing gig for BlogHer, and even though I sometimes twirl counter-clockwise in my cocksure skirt and my confidence starts getting all monkeyed, deep down I know that I really do love writing the reviews, and I know a few of you enjoy reading them.

Why do I enjoy writing the reviews? Obviously, it’s fun to try out new products. (When you review new makeup, you score the opportunity to stand in a bathroom and act like Pat Benatar! When you review kid clothes, you get to dress your kids up and let them act like superstars! Sometimes, when the urge strikes and there aren’t many rules to follow, you can throw on the Paganini and let people watch you eat. It never gets boring!) To me, the best part always comes at the tail end when I get to send out the little “HEY! You just won!” e-mail if the review is attached to a giveaway. I love that. 100%.

I’m typing this out really quickly just because I have a question for you. I’m thinking of taking the reviews to a website that I’ll dedicate solely to my reviews. The main reason I’m considering this sounds strange, and I’m still sort of working it all out in my head. When I look at my stats (which I rarely do, because I don’t really know how to get to them without a lot of dizzying clicks and errors) it seems that most of you don’t really care about the reviews. With that said, I know that there is a large group of people out there who really dig the review/giveaway sort of thing, and some of them dig it because they’re sort of needing it. As much as I want Fluid Pudding readers to win Every Single Thing I Ever Give Away, I also know at least three of you who roll your eyes every time I put the little dotted line with the giveaway links at the bottom of my posts.

Anyway. Typetypetypetypetype. Can you tell I have to leave here in ten minutes to pick up the kids?! I’m thinking about a website dedicated to the reviews, and I’m wondering what the name should be, and when I said The Pudding Probe over on Facebook, I had a few people gently shake their heads and remind me that medically speaking, a probe is not such a great thing. I also threw out Pudding Perlustration, but come on. Now I’m just showing off the fact that I have a big thesaurus. At the time of this post, the most recent suggestion (by Neil) was The Scrutinizing Pudding. I’m liking that, too. Any ideas? If I choose your name, I might give you something. Like I said, I’m still working it all out, and I need to leave the house in three minutes.

While you’re here, don’t forget that I’m giving away a copy of Let’s Panic as well as some energy-conserving light bulbs from GE! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Shorties can give you the whim-whams!

EDITED TO ADD: A winner has been selected! Congratulations, Meg!!!

When I first found out I was pregnant with Meredith, it was early September and I was glowing and doing beautiful things like taking folic acid and pre-natal vitamins and eating lots of fruit to build the most perfect environment for the tiny miracle who was being sculpted in my precious uterine apartment.

At the end of October, when I was starting my second trimester, I had to have an emergency appendectomy. From that point forward, my pregnancy was filled with days spent on the couch and lots of moaning, and suddenly I had gained over sixty pounds with three months left to go, and SCIATICA!!! In other words, there’s a lot to expect when you’re expecting, and despite what you’re led to believe, not all of those forty weeks are spent standing in a meadow wearing a gauzy dress and holding a bouquet of fresh flowers while the wind gently caresses your enlarged (aka swollen and painful) chest and your glowing (often acne-ridden) face.

I had the final appointment with my obstetrician on my actual due date. I was eighty pounds up, and Meredith was measuring in at ten pounds. At the appointment my doctor threw around phrases like “perineal massage” and “pain threshold” and words like “episiotomy” and “ripping” and “stitches” and do you know me? Because if you know me, you know that I’m highly uncomfortable talking about body parts—especially if those body parts are (mostly) contained in my drawers. (People who really know me are furiously nodding their heads right now. Because They Know.)

Anyway, right after the appointment, my mom drove me to Houlihan’s, where I sat and stared at a French dip sandwich for thirty minutes as I pondered the ripping and the stitches. Before we left, I went to the restroom and BLOINK! I felt something fall out and splash. I prayed to God that it wasn’t the baby and at the same time I prayed to God that it WAS the baby, because That Was Easy! and I looked down and it was NOT the baby. It was—are you ready—my MUCOUS PLUG! And really? All I could do was: 1. Try to remember if I was supposed to somehow recover the mucous plug., and 2. Laugh. Maniacally. Because pregnancy can often be absurd. And there was really no way to prepare for the ludicrous side. Until now.

Friends, I’m here to announce that two of my very favorite people in the world have published a book (it was released today!) and that book is titled Let’s Panic About Babies! Alice and Eden have kept me in stitches (non-perineal) for years, and the thought of them writing a satirical pregnancy guide almost makes me want to get pregnant again. (It really does. Almost.) AND, the most excellent news? They’re letting me give a copy away here at Fluid Pudding! Between now and Friday (March 4), leave a comment below and at 11:00pmCST, I’ll fire up the random number generator to choose one of you to win! You don’t have to be pregnant to win! You don’t have to be a mom! You don’t even have to be a woman! You just have to be a Fluid Pudding reader. Because, to quote Charlie Sheen, Fluid Pudding readers are built with Adonis DNA.

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Before you leave you brush your teeth with a bottle of What?!

Meredith had a friend over on Friday night, and this was a Big Deal, because it was the first time we’ve ever had one of her friends over for the night. I picked the kids up from school, I took them straight to the theater to see Gnomeo and Juliet (which they loved and I sort of hated), and then we came back to the house for pizza. At about 8:00, the friend busted out Just Dance for the Wii, and the girls started dancing. I noticed that they spent a lot of time dancing to one song in particular, but I didn’t pay much attention to what the song was.

On Saturday night, Jeff told me that Meredith had purchased the song on iTunes and that I should listen to it, because when they listened to it in the car, it became clear pretty quickly that it’s not a song for a seven year old. Apparently, Ke$ha, who spells her name with a dollar sign because she’s awe$ome and has dirty feet, brushes her teeth with a bottle of Jack because when she leaves for the night she ain’t comin’ back. (She’s says she’s trying to get a little bit tipsy, and later boasts that boys are trying to touch her junk, but she’ll kick them to the curb unless they look like Mick Jagger. Apparently, she doesn’t have a care in the world, because she has plenty of beer (along with the aforementioned bottle of Jack), and as long as the police don’t shut them down, the party don’t stop. Also, she’s going to fight until she sees the sunlight.)

My gut reaction was to immediately delete the song from Meredith’s iPod and replace it with the stupid Kidz Bop version. Hhhhhhhh. Deep down, I knew that was a crappy solution. Yesterday afternoon when Meredith wanted to listen to her iPod, I told her that I needed to talk to her for a bit.

Me: We need to talk about Tik Tok.

Meredith: What about it?

Me: Well, do you know how you talk at school about drugs and alcohol and how they’re not good and that it’s important to stay away from them if you want to stay smart and creative and healthy?

Meredith: Yes.

Me: I know you like the music behind Tik Tok, but the words are all about a girl who’s not so bright and she drinks a lot of alcohol and gets herself into trouble at a party and just sort of hopes that the police don’t show up.

Meredith: I didn’t get that, but I did hear her say that she was going to fight.

Me: Yep. She also wants to fight.

Harper: And she wants to brush her teeth with a bottle of Jack.

Me: Yes.

Meredith: That’s a dollar wasted.

We’ve deleted Ke$ha and replaced her with the Spanish version of a Selena Gomez song that we like. Selena may be kissing Justin Bieber, but at least she’s not singing songs about pouring vodka directly into her eyeballs. And if she IS, we won’t know, because my Spanish is a little rusty, and Meredith’s Spanish is limited to numbers and a few common phrases. Once again: Parenting is hard/easy.

It’s the final day for Round One of my lightbulb giveaway, and I would love for you to win. People have been leaving some great tips on how they conserve energy around the house! Come on over for your chance to win! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I swam across, I jumped across for you. Oh, what a thing to do.

Every time the outside temperature goes up (or down) by forty degrees or so, I start feeling the urge to buy new threads. And that’s sort of funny, because Fluid Pudding New Threads can be summed up as follows: Every spring/summer I purchase five short sleeved t-shirts to wear with my skirts, and every fall/winter I purchase five long sleeved t-shirts to wear with my sweaters and jeans and corduroy pants. I replace my staples as necessary. (For example, I’m currently down to one pair of jeans, and they’re all frayed at the bottom. I’ll probably wait on this until the fall, unless I can catch a good Gap sale between now and then. (I have a gift card.))

Last week the outside temperature hit seventy degrees, and because I now have friends who use the metric system, I’m proud to say that: Last week the outside temperature hit twenty one degrees! Anyway, I somehow fell into a website called ModCloth (you probably know them because you’re so good at this sort of thing), and I fell in love with this bright yellow jacket. (OUCH! I paid a LOT more for that jacket than $23.99! What the la la la la laaaaaaah! I’mGoingToPretendIDidn’tSeeThatPrice!!!) Anyway. (I CAN’T pretend I didn’t see that price! The jacket was $55 when I bought it! And that was a HUGE splurge for me! HUGE. My heart is beating in my eyeballs right now. Hhhhhhhh. No one got hurt. No one got hurt. No one got hurt.)

Anyway. The next time you see me strolling around town, I’m going to look a little something like this.

When I started this post, I was all, “Hey! Look! I’ve gone three years without a real jacket, and now I have a real jacket! It’s yellow!” But instead, now I feel sort of, “Hey. Look what I just spent entirely too much money on. And because of it, I’m ending my sentences with prepositions and not even exploring alternatives. Time to eat some Crisco and stop washing my hair. I’ll be crying in the shower if you need me.”

I also grabbed this dress. When it comes back in stock, it will probably sell for five dollars. Don’t look at me.

UPDATE!!! UPDATE!!! I felt so gross about this that I actually called ModCloth and said, “I need to ask a really bold question. I ordered a jacket one week ago today, and I just noticed that the jacket is now selling for less than half of what I paid and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah…” Anyway. They are giving me a store credit for the price difference. And that’s incredible. Because I now have my eye on this dress. And how cute is this?! And now I’m happy again! (It really doesn’t take much.) SO, next week I’m going to tell you about how I lost my mucous plug when I was pregnant with Meredith, and I’m coupling the story with a book giveaway! Stay tuned!
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Did you know that I’m giving away light bulbs? Because I am. And I would love for you to win one. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

From Thursday to Today.

It has been a busy few days at the Pudding Ranch. Last Thursday we had Parent/Teacher Conferences at school, and those went pretty well. It appears that Meredith takes after me in the Disorganization department, but what she lacks in order she makes up for in creative writing. Harper rarely eats her lunch (as evidenced by the nearly full box she returns home with each afternoon), but she’s rocking the math problems. All is well.

On Friday, I took Harper to have her hearing checked. I’ve reached a point where I no longer think it’s cute when she misinterprets what I’m saying. (Roast = Toast. Miss Debbie = Miss Daddy. Haircut = Bear Cub. (Why in the hell would I ever say that I’m in desperate need of a bear cub?)) According to the audiologist, her hearing is phenomenal, although she does have quite a bit of negative pressure in her eustachian tubes. (Airhead jokes are not welcome here.) Eventually, this might lead to the removal of tonsils/adenoids, but until she begins to complain about pain or starts experiencing chronic sinus infections, we’re just going to pretend that everything is A-ok!

On Saturday, Meredith woke up with an explosive cough. We took her to the doctor, where she was diagnosed with parainfluenza, or The Croup. She was given a cough suppressant, a pain killer, and a steroid. The steroid, which makes her act nuts, has been classified as one of the top five worst tasting medicines of all time, but our pediatrician has learned that if you chase the medicine with a green lollipop, the taste immediately goes away. Red lollipops will not work. For reasons completely unknown to everyone, the lollipop has to be green. I learned Saturday afternoon that when one is looking for green lollipops, the most difficult thing in the world to find is green lollipops. BUT, find them I did, and yes. Crappy medicine + green lollipop = Tolerable. Excellent. (She took her last dose today, and we have one lollipop to spare.)

Sunday. After church we worked on the house and Jeff’s parents came over for dinner. I made rice bowls with tomatoes and corn and beans and WHEE! EVERYONE LOVES THAT I’M A VEGETARIAN!!! NO ONE IS STRESSED ABOUT IT AT ALL!!! (Eight months and going strong. Did I mention that we now have Baby Back Rib Chips in the house? Crazy.)

Yesterday morning found Meredith and Jeff at the orthodontist at 8:00. At 10:00, my mom came up and she and the girls and I went to see Never Say Never. And then I went home and got all crabby on my Facebook page because: In a world of Justin Bieber haters, I do NOT hate Justin Bieber. I know! (I’m forty, meaning I’m old enough to be his mother’s older sister.) You know, I’m tired of people hating someone just because it’s fun/popular/whatever. (It would be easy for me to hate Glenn Beck. VERY easy. But I don’t! Life? Short!)

Today? Today I’ve been volunteering at the school and working on the house. It seems that Meredith is having a friend over this weekend, and we haven’t really done that in a few years, so it’s time to clean bathroom floors and put away laundry and all of the other crap that I tend to hate doing.

Did you know that I’m giving away light bulbs? Because I am. And I would love for you to win one. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Oh my Goth!

I throw in my sponge! (My make-up sponge.) My inconsolable soul able to weep these tears no more. No more!

I hereby draw the line. (Around my eye!) ((With a felt-tipped applicator that gives me ultimate control.))

Oh! My mumpish existence. If you blur your perception, a fish appears to be consuming my bulbus oculi. Eye? Ideally, I’ll be able to recreate his brother on my other side.

(I’m now ready for tomorrow’s Parent Teacher Conferences.)

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The Puddings are saving energy and giving away two $50 GE energy smart LED light bulbs! Come on over for a chance to win! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>