the wiener mom begins to consider the possibility of letting go

So, as the wiener mom drives around the fair city of Madison, especially near the high school that the wieners will one day attend, she sees something troubling. A little background info:this high school has won some awards, something National Merit, something with high SAT scores, blah, blah (I'll figure it out before my kids get there). So, we're talking about bright kids here.

Also, it's winter, like dead of. Normally temperatures under 10 degrees. What does the wiener mom see? Legions of kids who aren't wearing coats. Walking around campus without coats, shivering in hoodies and sweaters. Some of them eating ice cream cones... Anyway, I'm shocked. First of all, how dumb are these kids-it's freaking cold out? Why don't they put on a damn coat. Because, they're too cool. That's why. Now I'm shaking my head like an old lady about "kids these days".

Then I start thinking about their parents, what kind of parents let them leave the house without a coat when it's like zero? Suddenly I am struck by a thought...
what if these parents tried to get their kids to wear coats and they wouldn't do it. You can't force a high school kid into a snowsuit like you can a little wiener. You can't velcro a hat with ear flaps to his head. MAYBE, THERE WILL COME A TIME WHEN I CAN'T CONTROL MY WIENERS. Horrifying thought...

Maybe, these parents have chosen their battles and they let this one go, hoping that the kids would figure it out on their own. There will come a time when I will have to let go. My wieners may be very cold and I won't be able to do anything about it. There's something to think about.

the wiener mom and her very creative wieners

One of the favorite activities of the wieners is making "creations" out of recyclables. Big wiener and middle wiener will go to war over a cardboard box. They make use of massive amounts of tape on a daily basis and can turn anything into anything else (geniuses!)
For example, today before preschool, middle wiener found a smallish box. He cut it apart in an elaborate way and cut a whole to look out of. Now it was a spying box! How fabulous! How fun!

Note: it is a tampon box.

Time for school! Middle wiener won't go to school without his spying box (see note above on said spying box). We fight and I give in and let him take a tampon box to preschool. Luckily his teachers found it hilarious and let him share it at circle.

This story does in end in tragedy though. Another teacher, cleaning up the room, didn't see the worth in a cut up tampon box with a whole in it to spy out of. She threw it away.

a very, very short play by the wiener mom

characters: big wiener, middle wiener, the wiener mom

setting: the wiener's bedroom about 7:45 pm Monday night
big wiener is getting his pajamas on and trying to tell the wiener mom about something that happened at school (this will be a very long and drawwwwwwn out process, as big wiener LOVES to talk).
The wiener mom is trying to get middle wiener into his pull-up and pajamas. He is buck naked and apparently trying to pull his penis off...

big wiener: So, then, we went to the.... art room and....
middle wiener: My penis doesn't come off! It doesn't!
big wiener: at the art room we had to wait for... uh Mrs.... what's her name... and
middle wiener: It really doesn't come off mom!
the wiener mom: shhh. I'm trying to listen to your brother.
big wiener: the art teacher wasn't there and there was a sub. do I need cold medicine tonight?
middle wiener: Moooom, my penis will not come off! (continues to violently pull on said member)
the wiener mom: I know that. Now let me listen to your brother. You already had your cold medicine, but what happened in the art room.
big wiener: we are gonna start a project with, ummm what do you call it...
middle wiener: (grabs the wiener mom's face and stares deep into her eyes) My. Penis. Doesn't. Come. Off! (grins).
(the wiener mom is struggling to pull up aforementioned pull-up under incredible odds (involving penis pulling)
the wiener mom: Stop talking to me about your penis!!!
middle wiener: you don't have a penis (shakes head seriously) are you sad?
the wiener mom: NO!
big wiener: paper mache!

the end.

the wiener mom and roger the singing cowboy

Ahhh, nothing says late January to me like a (pseudo) cowboy singing Christmas carols really badly. Hey, just because you wear wranglers and one of those bolo ties doesn't mean you're authentic. Let me explain...

A few weekends ago, little wiener and I headed over to Grandma's nursing home for a "winter party". We were going for the sole purpose of socializing with Grandma (who's almost 90); not, I repeat, not for the entertainment. Had I known the caliber of the entertainment at the winter party, I may have reconsidered my trip. Hey, I'm not trying to be mean, but I hope they didn't pay for the services of Roger, the singing cowboy. Little wiener and I arrive to meet up with mom, dad and grandma and the show is already underway. I should have turned back then.

First of all, in my opinion, Christmas music season ends on January 1, no exceptions. Did they not think that the elderly ladies (no wieners) would notice that CHRISTMAS HAD PASSED? I find this borderline offensive. What's wrong with offering some other type of music, like love songs, or songs from the 40's (they dig that stuff). To make matters worse, Roger had located karaoke versions of tens of carols set to a country twang. 90 year old women, not so much into the country scene. All they really wanted to do was dance, well like 2 of them. My grandma was sitting there shaking her head and "tutting" at the audacity of Roger. She's kind of a live performance snob. The lady in front of her was talking to her son at what can only be described as a very loud stage whisper, "That's Dolores' daughter over there in the blue. Nice of her to come. Of course your sister didn't come. She's very busy I'm sure." One lady was asleep with her head on her knees and countless others were drifting off. The guests of these elderly were just trying their darnedest not to make eye contact with Roger as he swaggered around the community room with his microphone and his cowboy hat. If he made eye contact with you, it was over, he was coming for you. If you were female he was holding your hand for an uncomfortable amount of time and swaying and if you were male, well count yourself as one of the lucky ones.

The pinnacle of the show had to be his attempt at becoming Alvin the Chipmunk by putting on a pair of generic animal ears and talking in a sad falsetto. I think you'd be hard pressed to find one of the residents who even knew who Alvin the Chipmunk was. They probably thought he was one of those doped up kids.

Now, had this show been 30 minutes, it would have been bearable, even dare I say, amusing. But, Roger had no intention of not giving us our money's worth (it was free), so he sang and swaggered for an unbelievable hour and 15 minutes. Perhaps this doesn't sound like too much time to you. Perhaps this sounds altogether enjoyable and I have no appreciation for the finer things in life. I suggest then that you find a holiday episode of the Lawrence Welk show, pop it in the VCR and tie yourself to a chair. Oh, with a squirmy baby on your lap. Fun, huh?

the wiener mom writes an open letter to little wieners everywhere

Dear wieners (specifically mine, but all are welcome),

I have come before you today to address a crucial issue in the success of wiener mom/little wiener relationships. The future of my goodwill and your continued survival depend upon it.
My dear wieners, we must discuss the meaning of the word "other". What it means is not that one, i.e. not that hand, the OTHER one or not that foot, the OTHER ONE. When a person has two of something (hands or feet primarily) and the wiener mom says "not that one, the other one" she does not mean the SAME ONE, she means the OTHER ONE. What confuses the otherwise intelligent and capable mind of the wiener mom, is how a relatively small wiener can correctly use words like, ACTUALLY, and USUALLY, and even REAPPEARING, but he can not give the wiener mom THE OTHER FOOT, even after repeated pointing and wild gesturing, as well as overly clear annunciation, "No, the OTH-ER one."

Perhaps this is a phenomenon witnessed only in wiener world, and both wieners and non-wieners in the outside world have a strong grasp of the OTHER one. If so, please give the wiener mom your apparently successful strategies before she pulls her hair out. No, the other one.

Love and kisses, the wiener mom

the wiener mom gets an eyeful

Nothing important today, just an observation about life inside the locker room. Not that I spend all that much time in the locker room, but part of the reason I go to the gym is to shower in peace and without someone ripping open the shower curtain and pointing at my woman parts and laughing (3 year olds, ha, ha, aren't they cute?)

So, I'm in the locker room, just finished my kick ass workout while watching the Colbert Report, not as motivating as Tom Petty, but I forgot the ipod. I have a little extra time and the 2 smaller wieners are safely ensconced in the daycare having a blast at someone else's expense, so I decide to try the steam room. Ever been in a steam room? Not talking about a sauna here, I've done that, but a steam room.

In my previous sauna experiences I did not feel as though I was trapped in a stifling mist of mystery. I turned it on and nothing happened right away. Immediate reaction, super this is gonna take forever. Like I have anything better to do, than sit alone in a room that is quiet and child-free. Then all of a sudden with great force the steam comes. Ahhhhh, this is nice and warm and detoxifying, blah, blah... until it's not anymore! Until the steam is so thick I CAN NOT SEE ANYTHING. I can not see the buttons to turn the damn thing off. It is precipitating in my nose. When I breath in I gasp for air. So do I get up and blindly try to find the door? No, I wonder, how long am I supposed to sit here for? Is it working yet?

Finally I stagger towards the light which I'm pretty sure is the outside, normally humidified world. I know that next to the door are the buttons to TURN IT OFF. I do manage to find the buttons and press the power button. The great steam machine stops adn I go for the door. IT WON'T OPEN. I feel like I'm going to die in a Bond movie, except that the steam has been turned off and oops, the door opens the other way.

After my refreshing/terrifying steam, I shower and dress and go to dry my hair at the wall of mirrors. There is another woman there, probably 55 or 60. I saw her working out on the treadmill, hey, nothing wrong with a leisurely stroll. She was drying her hair while wearing a towel. I went about my business, drying away. Her dryer stopped and I saw her adjust her towel out of the corner of my eye.

Now, in the locker room, you expect PG, towel covering all important bits, and you expect X, total nudie (hopefully drying off and then dressing). What you do not expect is R-Rated for a LONG period of time. As she adjusted her towel, she forgot to include her boobs. So now anything above the under-breast area is flapping in the breeze. But, she's not done styling. She's going to curl, spray, curl and spray some more. She's gone to apply several layers of makeup, with her boobies just swinging away.

I don't get it. I don't get the level of comfort with one's own body that allows a person to complete their entire hair/makeup routine topless. YOU ARE NOT IN YOUR OWN HOME.I DO NOT NEED TO SEE YOUR BREASTS FOR MORE THAN SAY, A MINUTE. I know it's a locker room, but put the girls away if they don't really need to be out.

the wiener mom gets her groove back

So I joined a gym. It's been years since I belonged to a gym, about 4 to be a little exact. When big wiener was only wiener, I used to tool off to the gym 5 days a week, just for a little social interaction with adults. That did however have the added benefit of getting me in rocking shape. At the time I wouldn't have said that, but looking back, I should have appreciated it when I had it. I was lifting weights and doing all kinds of cardio stuff.

Then we moved and I let my membership expire. I had middle wiener and things got a little crazy and then along came little wiener and we all know what life has been like since then. A new gym opened about 10 minutes from wiener world and were offering low, low introductory rates and I am not one to pass up low rates of any kind. I joined and the gym opened in mid-December and I have been trying to go at least 3 times a week since then.

Now, this is all a little boring, I know. Here's the interesting part, okay the less boring part. I used to love to take classes, I always felt like I got a better workout when someone was telling me what to do. The class schedule is fairly limited since they're new, so it was a struggle to find something to take at the right times. I'm not showing up at the gym for a 5:30 am class, it's just never going to happen. So I found Zumba, a cardio class. Beyond that I knew nothing, so I thought I'd give it a go. Turns out, Zumba is a hip-hop Latin dance cardio class that involves a lot of shaking of booties and other shakeable parts. Fun, I thought. I can go with this. Turns out, my shakeable parts have forgotten how to shake. Turns out, when I try to swivel my hips or shake my breasties my body actually makes pained creaking sounds and sometimes refuses to move that way.

Now, I'd like to say that I could blame this on the fact that my abs are shot from having three c-sections. I wish it was that simple. I think though, that in fact. My shakeable parts have kind of frozen up into a state of old-ladydom. As I'm trying to gyrate along with the other ladies (some are very shake-y, some not so much) I come to the realization that I haven't been using my sexy parts for some time. I haven't needed to, or had the energy to, shake anything for Daddy wiener in a long time. And if we can be honest here, he doesn't require a whole lot of shaking anyway.

So after my first class I'm feeling old, but decide to go back. I do, I go back again and again. I'm not going so much for the cardio, as I am for the shaking practice. This shouldn't be so hard should it? Aren't women's bodies supposed to sway and shake and whatever else I can't do? So I've made it my mission to get "resexyfied". It might also help if the other unshakable parts didn't shake too. I guess I'll shake what I got until I can shake the other stuff. You might not want to watch, not just yet.

okay, okay, okay, I'm sorry.

Yes, yes, I know. I know. I've been really busy. I've been working a lot. Let's just skip all that and pick up where we left off, shall we? It's a new year and I'd love to say; it's a new wiener mom too, but not so much.
I'm back to the blogging. It was either go back to the wiener mom or join facebook and the more people who tell me to join facebook.... well, let's just say "Na-na, na, na, na." So back to blogging.
So let's see... what's new? The wiener mom has joined a gym. The wiener mom got laid off from her job and then found something else. The wiener mom has suffered through two sinus infections (middle wiener) and two double ear infections (little wiener) and an all over body rash reaction to augmentin. The wiener mom has been rejected by a total of 12 literary agencies. The wiener mom has laid awake at night trying to figure out what she wants to do with her life.
The wiener mom visited lovely San Fransisco with her oldest, greatest friend and missed her little wiener so much she wanted to cry sometimes. The wiener mom voted for a candidate for president who actually won and watched him get sworn in today with middle wiener on her lap (asking about Michelle in the sparkly coat). The wiener mom still didn't get enough sleep, though little wiener is mostly sleeping through the night(thanks for asking).
The wiener mom celebrated middle wiener's birthday, halloween (see photos), thanksgiving, and christmas. New Year's Eve too, though she's never felt the magnitude of and enthusiasm for the night. The wiener mom had her little wiener dedicated at the Unitarian Church. The wiener mom knitted 5 scarves.
The wiener mom has survived through winter break, too many snow days and deadly cold days. The wiener mom is now fish mom. Santa brought a fish tank with 6 small fish. The tank promptly became a death trap for fish and only two are stilling hanging on. The wiener mom was consistently amazed and frustrated by her wieners, filled with love and the occasional loath. Just very occasional really.
Oh, and daddy wiener got a harmonica for christmas and now fancies himself a blues harmonica player. So, what's new with you?