THE MARRIED BACHELORETTE- PART 2

Okay, after tonight I promise not to blog about "The Bachelorette." Wait. Take that back. I can't promise because there is still the final episode, but I will at least make a solid attempt.

Let me start by saying that I had hoped that Graham would make a dramatic appearance .... Deanna would walk on the beach, under the sunset, after her dates with Jeremy, Jason, and Jesse (hi, all J's...), and she would say that she can't stop thinking about him (I sure couldn't) and wants him back. But NO. She got over it fast and rightfully so. She had fantastic and fun dates with Jason and Jesse and in the end, let the too perfect Jeremy go. (By the way, does anyone else think he has the tightest, shiniest jawline ever??? Freaky!) But when she said "Jason" at the rose ceremony, I literally screamed "YES!" and woke Baby-Ko. (Not so coincidentally, T-Ko disappeared in to the bedroom and called it a night at that point).

The fact that Deanna chose Jesse and Jason gave me hope for television. While both are attractive, they are certainly not perfect and certainly not the typical "Bachelor" meat heads that they usually cast. They are shorter, less contrived, goofier... They are REAL MEN. The kind of men that I would pick if I were the Bachelorette...

Speaking of "real men," did anyone see tonight's episode of "American Gladiators???" :-)

SEX AND THE SHOES...

With my five year anniversary approaching next week, I have been racking my brain trying to think of a great gift for T-Ko (preferably one that doesn't involve killing hookers). And considering that I just spent a small fortune on the said XBox 360, I would love to find something that doesn't break the bank and/or lead to future marital problems...

Well, ironically, this morning on the Today Show there was a follow up segment about this couple who wrote a book about having SEX 101 DAYS IN A ROW. Yes, in a row. No excuses. No ifs, ands, or "butts." As I listened to the couple brag to Meredith Vieira about their sex life, I noticed how happy and glow-y they both looked. The wife looked like she had just returned from a tropical vacation and the husband looked like he was ready to do his wife right then and there. Then I noticed the chyrons on the bottom of the screen: "Frequent Sex = Better Sleep".... and "Frequent Sex= Fewer Colds or Flu." Seriously?? I want to sleep better. I want to feel better. I want to look better. Can frequent sex also help lift my tribeswoman tits? I mean, these people were making sex sound like a miracle drug. Count me in.

I was about to pick up the phone to call T-Ko to tell him he was about to get the best anniversary gift of his life, when reality struck and annoyance set in. The couple was talking about making the effort to have sex (despite exhaustion or something like that) and the husband said "... but an hour later, when we were done...." - WHOAH. Hold up. ONE HOUR? Really??? One WHOLE hour? Like from start to finish?? Does that INCLUDE foreplay and the essential trip to the bathroom afterwards? One hour? Really. Good for you. Good. For. You. I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

Then suddenly, my attention shifted. The camera went wide and I noticed Meredith Vieira's SHOES. Ooh. Where do I know those shoes from? The peep toe... the high high heel... the red sole... Ahh, yes. Christian Louboutins... I stared at them for a good 2 minutes yesterday at Nordstrom... Now THOSE would make a great gift. After all, there are SOME things that are better than sex.....

ADDENDUM TO "THE MARRIED BACHELORETTE"

To my loyal readers (Mom),

I would like to make something abundantly clear: While I thoroughly enjoyed last night's episode of "The Bachelorette," it is most certainly NOT my favorite Monday night program. Oh, no. "The Bachelorette" is ALWAYS watched on DVR at the end of the evening, after T-Ko has once again, dominated the remote control and watched his share of "Cops" and "Girls Gone Wild" type programming AND of course, "AMERICAN GLADIATORS" (the best show in spandex on TV).

WHY? Why you ask do we watch American Gladiators, the best 80's revival show EVER??? Well, first and foremost, T-Ko works on the show. Second, his paycheck allows for me to stay home with Baby-Ko and go take classes from crazed middle aged women like Wacky. Third and most importantly, I watch "American Gladiators" because it strikes a chord.... Unlike watching "Biggest Loser" where I just feel bad for the fat bastards as I repeatedly tell myself 'I will never get that big', watching "American Gladiators," I feel INSPIRED... Watching these buff men and women swing on giant ropes across a pool makes me want to hit the gym and starve myself, as the only Gladiator name I can come up with for myself these days is "MUFFIN TOP." (btw, "name your Gladiator name" is a great game to play at home... yet ANOTHER reason to watch).

SO, my loyal J-KO fans: Please support American Gladiators on NBC at 8pm, THEN tune into your normal Monday night crap. Oh and while we're on the subject, would you also please tune into "Don't Forget the Lyrics" on FOX, yet another fine program that T-Ko works on (and pays the bills)...

THE MARRIED BACHELORETTE

I am ashamed to admit it, but I am hooked on this season's "Bachelorette" (ABC). I usually cringe watching dating shows especially since I've worked behind the scenes on some of them. But tonight, I found myself utterly enthralled and almost on the verge of tears....

Okay, quick recap: Deanna (the bachelorette) is down to 4 guys. Her favorite of the 4 is Graham, the hottest hottie of the bunch. Despite his gorgeousness, Deanna's been skeptical about him; he's been "holding back" and has had a hard time opening up. He's that guy that we all have loved before- the guy where the chemistry is undeniable and you fall in love instantly but he's "too cool" for school and you can't even tell if he even likes you back, BUT he gives you glimpses every now and again, so you hold on and stay in it. (He's Mr. Big before Paris). ANYWAY, Deanna has been dissed at the altar before so she doesn't want to take a chance that in the end Graham won't love her back and/or propose. SO tonight, she DIDN'T give him a rose. WELL, she does the requisite "it's not you, it's me, bye-bye" walk out to the limo with him and starts crying... tells him that HE was the ONLY one of the four guys that she was falling in love with but that she just can't take a chance. Graham is visibly upset. She tells him that their relationship ends here, it's over. He starts to cry and then stands up and hands her a card and tells her she can read it someday IF she wants. He gets in the limo, she starts to read the card (hysterically crying) and says in her interview that she is second guessing her decision now....

Out of all the "reality" moments I have ever seen on TV AND witnessed in person, this was by far the most truthful. (Okay, I'm being over dramatic, but honestly, IT WAS GOOD). Infatuation, disappointment, miscommunication... That's part of what makes relationships and romance REAL... and I was left wanting more.

THEN, the show cut to commercial and the VO says: "If you want to nominate yourself or someone you know for The Bachelor call..."

"Nominate me," I joke (kind of).

In another scene, a bachelor says, "I never have sweaty palms. She makes my palms sweat."
"Did I make your palms sweat?" I ask.
"Yeah."
"When?"
"Yesterday," he says dryly, "yesterday."

Now THAT is REAL romance....

NON, NEIN, NEE, NYET....

The lecture in Wacky's Class today was about using the word "NO." Wacky said that our babies are entering a stage where they will begin to "test" us and that through repetition, will begin to understand consequences. She said that by saying "no" all the time we'll sort of stifle their curiosity and exploration and that we should use the word "no" sparingly; it should be saved for 2 or 3 things and instances in your house that are dangerous....like the fireplace, or the stove, or daddy's gun collection...

Wacky said that if you use the word "no" too often, it becomes unimportant and has no meaning and can lead to inconsistent parenting (kind of like when Baby-Ko wants to play with my iPod and I say "No" and then T-Ko uses his blackberry as a teether). Wacky said that instead of saying "no," you narrate the situation for them and then use redirection as a tool to get them to stop doing whatever it is that they shouldn't be doing. So for example, if Baby-Ko reaches down for his poop while I'm changing his diaper, I should say, "Wow, Baby-Ko. You've found your poop. Poop comes out of your tush and is pretty messy. Why don't you play with mommy's bangle instead.... " Or something like that.

I don't know. It's all very fluffy and lovely sounding.... The idea that we'll always have this free-flowing line of communication with Baby-Ko sounds fantastic... The idea that I'll always have the time to redirect his attention when he's playing with the phone, for example, and has accidentally dialed 911... or the patience to tell him to stop playing with the trash in the waste basket (actually, NOT say "stop" but instead, "Wow, Baby-Ko. You've found the trash. Did you know that Americans generate about 4.6 pounds of trash per person, per day? Why don't you help me by carrying the garbage to the back yard where we will start a compost heap instead."

I don't know. Things were different when I was a kid. My mom said "no" all the time and I think I turned out okay... and she certainly didn't rely on a Wacky to tell her what to do. Unless of course my Grandmother counts...

ADDENDUM TO A TOY FOR T-KO...

T-Ko just announced that he got a blow job from a hooker, ran her over, took his money back and went to buy a hot dog.

(And you thought your husband was an asshole...)

Aw. Shit. Cops just busted him. Good thing though... because if this "wild" streak keeps up, he's going to develop carpal tunnel syndrome...

A TOY FOR T-KO

To: T-KO
From: DH
Sent: June 14, 2008 9:51pm
Subject: J-Ko's Blog
CAN'T WAIT TO READ J-KO'S BLOG ABOUT HOW SHE MESSED UP AND GAVE YOU A FATHER'S DAY GIFT THAT PLANTED YOU ON THE COUCH MESMERIZED BY ANIMATED SUPER HEROES PLAYING X BOX WHILE YOUR BABY SITS STEWING IN A DUMPY DIAPER
***

PROPHETIC.

SO yes, like a total schmuck/ sucker, I bought T-Ko an XBox 360 for father's day. And not just ANY XBox, I bought him the top of the line XBox. (Apparently sales people at Target know how to upsell). He has been talking about this "toy" for months and months AND for months and months I have ignored his pleas (and sometimes threats) about buying it. I feared that I would never get to watch TV again, that I would constantly hear the sounds of gun fire, missiles, and cursing as T-Ko stole money from hookers (yes, a lovely little function of "Grand Theft Auto").

But I ignored my better judgment and decided to surprise him with one for Father's Day. Sure. I could have gotten him a "typical" Father's Day gift... something for the BBQ, a tie, a certificate from Baby-Ko that says "Good For One Day of No Diaper Changing" or something corny like that.... But, I decided to go for the gold and make the guy happy (and think he has the coolest wife ever). I can never actually wait until the actual holiday or birthday to give him a gift, so I gave it to him last night. Needless to say, he was thrilled and within an hour, was back at the store buying more games, and calling his boys to come over and play....

As I sat watching T-Ko and his buddy trying to carjack people (really, "Grand Theft Auto" is special), my life flashed before my eyes. Okay, not really. But I did remember that scene from "Prime" (btw, GREAT under-rated movie) where Raffi tells her friend she's buying her boyfriend nintendo and the friend says, "Raffi, do you like having sex?" And I wondered if even though I've made T-Ko swear that he cannot dominate the TV all day/ night, that he can never ever play with it while Baby-Ko is up and/or in the room, and that it has to go in the credenza and not on top (he claims he will, he has to get the "right" hook up), if he really might choose the game over me.

Well, considering that I just crossed in front of the TV to get water and he nearly had a heart attack (apparently he's trying to save the world in an F16), I have a feeling that yes, he might choose the game over me.... at least while it's still new anyway. In fact, knowing him, he's going to stay up all night playing games. But when Baby-Ko's up at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning, someone's gonna wish they got a "Good For a Day of Sleeping In" certificate instead... Happy Father's Day, sweetheart. :-)

NEVER SAY NEVER

If I had a dime for every time I used to say "When I have a baby, I will never ______" and then actually DO "the never" once I had a baby of my OWN, I'd be a very rich girl. Well, today, I think I managed to do every "never" I have EVER declared...

I had plans today to take my BFF to lunch for her birthday. I suggested we go to the Little Next Door because I have never been and because, let's face it, 3rd street is a hell of a lot cooler than Ventura Blvd. As usual, my 8 1/2 month old partner in crime was in tow. As I shlepped the diaper bag and the world's biggest stroller ever up the block, I prayed that Baby-Ko would put on his "city" face and play it cool for the next hour or so while mommy enjoyed her expensive salad and french pressed coffee with her friend. Of course, due to a top tooth cutting through, Baby-Ko was not so willing to play along.

As Baby-Ko fussed and squirmed in his stroller, then in my arms, then in my BFF's arms, I began to panic. He was on the verge of a major meltdown so I had to pull out all the stops and began to commit a series of "nevers" one after the next.... I let him play with utensils, I let him bang his maraca on the table, I let him eat cheerios to his hearts content, I let him play with an old bottle of water in my bag... But when those "toys" no longer interested him, I went into DEFCON 5 and gave him MY CELL PHONE. Despite the fact that it's probably made with lead paint AND the cover is missing ( completely exposing the lithium battery) my cell phone was, for a brief period, the ONLY thing keeping us from getting dirty stares.

Halfway through our meal, a very pretty, tall, tan mom (PTTM) walked in and sat down near us. She was there with her mom (I think) and her 16 month old daughter who immediately spotted Baby-Ko. When he saw the little girl, he immediately wanted to get off my lap and on to the floor where she was. He let out a huge screech and without even thinking about it, I sat him on the floor... The patio FLOOR of a fucking restaurant, where he pat, pat, patted the floor (like the bunny). For a brief second he was happy, making googly eyes at the girl and feeling free of my arms. But when the little girl wouldn't relinquish whatever little toy she had in her hands, he lost his shit again. SO, I picked him up and offered my cell, AGAIN. My BFF, who was probably embarrassed at this point, suggested we "maybe get the bill?"

After Baby-Ko threw (my now broken phone) on the ground for the 10th time, the PTTM shook her head said to me, "It makes you wonder why we do it..."
"Hmm," I laughed politely. Wonder why we do it....? I mean, I know she was commiserating, but I have to say, I have never "wondered" or questioned "why we do it"- why we have babies... I KNOW why we do it.
I do it because there is nothing more precious then feeling his breath on my cheek when he falls asleep in my arms...
I do it because his thighs are so delicious, I have to stop myself from taking a bite.
I do it because the sound of his giggle is infectious.
I do it because I have never seen anyone enjoy a cheerio so much.
I do it because despite the fact that I feel like I'm constantly disheveled, that I can no longer "do lunch" (certainly not in Hollywood anyway), that my tribeswoman tits are such pancakes that I might even enjoy a mammogram, and that my cell phone, aviators, AND iPod now belong to an 8 month old, I am completely and utterly in love.... and would NEVER trade it for the world....

THE POOP MACHINE

Yesterday, as I sat praying that my 3rd cup of coffee would stir a little somethin' up in the ol' bowels, I caught a story on the Today Show that once again sort of shocked me. Ironically, it was about a woman who runs a potty training program out of her house called "Booty Camp." I won't go in to a lot of detail about this woman's methods, but I will say this: Bitch Ca-Razy! Okay. Literally imagine 3 year olds, with their pants DOWN, sitting next to each other on beginner potties in a ROW, in THE MIDDLE of some lady's kitchen. Their parents are watching and being given "tools" to help encourage and train their kids to use the potties. Meanwhile, the lady gives the children the saltiest, sweetest, shittiest (no pun intended) food and drink you can imagine because she claims the salt and sugar will speed their bladder and "soften their bowels." Some leave successful, some leave with crap still in their pants, and some leave with crap on the floor (literally, they have to help clean their mess off the floor if they have an accident).

I don't know. Potty training seems like something that should be done at home or at preschool where a child's "potty" readiness is treated on an individual basis. Fortunately, we're ways away from having to think about potty training Baby-Ko. Besides, Baby-Ko has his own system in place and has created his own personal little bathroom and toilet area: The Evenflo ExerSaucer, a.k.a. The Poop Machine. I don't know what it is, but EVERY TIME we put Baby-Ko into it, without fail, he poops! If they only made a machine like that for adults, I'd sure cut out A LOT of caffeine....

Behold BABY-KO & THE POOP MACHINE. Oh, and the very first picture ever posted on my blog...

Mission Accomplished!

A WACKY DADDY

"Are you so excited to come with me?" I asked T-Ko as we got dressed.
"Oh, yeah. Thrilled," he said dryly. "I've been waiting for this day my whole life."
"You'll be in a room full of women..."
"Who cares? Their vaginas all look like Glad bags."
"What?! A glad bag?? Does MY vagina look like a 'glad bag?'"
"I don't know. I never see it."
"Ha ha." I quickly pull down my pants and flash T-Ko. (Mommy is sassy!)
"Nope. It's fine," he says.
"Phew," I say sarcastically.

Okay. I realize that T-Ko is not the "oooh, can I come with you to Mommy & Me" kind of Daddy, BUT I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm. I mean, I have been taking Baby-Ko to Wacky's class for 5 months now and a lot of the other daddies have attended before. Not to mention, I was dying for him to meet Wacky and become brainwashed just like me. Usually I return from class and tell him the newest advice that Wacky has given us, (like "under no circumstance, may you take the babies in a public pool"), to which T-Ko always responds "F Wacky."

"Hmm, what can I do to embarrass you...?" T-Ko said mischievously as we pulled up to class.
"Nothing. Don't do anything. Just sit and observe." I said seriously. "I hope your socks don't have holes in them."
"What? Why??"
"Because you can't wear shoes in the class."
"I hate it already."

Of course, T-Ko didn't hate it at all. In fact, I'm pretty sure he enjoyed it. It certainly helped that Wacky was in a cheerful mood and answered all of my annoying questions without any obvious judgement. It also helped that the other mommies encouraged T-Ko to join us during "Happy Feet" (the dance we do at the end of the class with the babies).

There was no way I was going to be able to convince him to join us for lunch afterwards, but at least I got him to come to Wacky's class and see what hype is all about. Plus, seeing T-Ko dance with Baby-Ko, was enough to keep me happy for a long time... And I'm pretty sure seeing my hoo ha, albeit briefly, and confirming that it does not in fact resemble a Glad trash bag (whatever that means), is enough to keep HIM happy for, well, at least a few days...

FREAKS LIKE ME

I love Target. I love it like a drug. Give me an excuse to go there and I'm all over it. So tonight, when I decided that I should bake brownies to take to a friend's house tomorrow for a play date, and that we're out of diapers and wipes (oh, and napkins too), the red and white dartboard called to me.

Well, ever wonder where all the freaks in your neighborhood go on a Monday at 9:30pm? Well, look no further. They are at TARGET. That's right. Tar-jay. And I'm pretty sure the freaks from your neighborhood, contacted the freaks from my neighborhood and made plans to go to MY Target together.

The minute I pulled into the parking lot, I regretted the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra (or underwear) under my shlumpy get up. Maybe I'm too paranoid and growing up with a single mother has made me overly cautious, but my lovely little (huge, really) Target felt scary. Outside, there was a man holding a baby and screaming at his wife, a teenager defiantly pushed a cart into the lot not really caring who and what it hit, and an employee that looks like he was just fired (again)...

Inside, I grabbed a cart and surveyed the store: the "regulars" I normally see, (tired moms trying to keep their kids from melting down as they buy detergent) were no where to be found. Instead, weirdos roamed the aisles, making me wish I told T-Ko I loved him (instead of "can you do the dishes for once?") before I left.

I zipped through the store, and as always, managed to grab some other things I "needed." (Seriously, it was the perfect size plastic container). There were only four check out stands open, all with very long lines, about seven freaks deep. It was like a metaphor: Four Lines of freaks, which freak do you choose? I chose the line with the freak buying a suitcase, a hammer, and I'm pretty sure using traveler's checks. My other option was a line where a guy with jesus hair was talking to himself, buying hair gel and nuts (no, kidding).

$100 bucks later (how the hell does that always happen???), I sped out of the parking lot and headed home to my humble and SANE abode. I know I live in a very safe neighborhood and a safe city for that matter, but I'm a big scaredy cat and I guess having a baby heightens my awareness. So from now on, no more Tar-jay runs late at night. We'll stick to our normal day-time, Target routine. Besides, I feel a lot more normal when I'm shopping with other freaks like me....