ad hoc LIFE

May30Things I Need Like A Hole In The Head
Tonya

Things around here at ad hoc MOM have been a little, well, ad hoc. As long as ad hoc stands for crazy and hectic and lots of wine consumption, which I’m almost positive is the exact definition of the word given in the latest Oxford Dictionary.

While I try and make my life (read: my brain) run more efficiently (read: run…just run) I’ve been trying to do things that may help. Such as, buying self-help books (I don’t actually have to read them to get their usefulness though, right? Cuz I don’t have the time for that), cleaning out books, toys, and clothing, and purchasing other items which may help me get more done in a day, like meth. In my search for such products, I‘ve come across a few things that I would buy ONLY if I had a hole in my head. Carrie’s hilarious post this past Friday inspired me to put together a list to help those of you avoid such ridiculous purchases while out for some relaxing retail therapy:

Kim The Talking Clock

Not only does it look like some creepy machine out of a Terry Gilliam movie but it voices the time! Can someone please tell me who needs this thing? What the hell is it going to say that I don’t already know?

- It’s 3:45, you have 15 more minutes of free time before you have to pick up the kid from preschool. Enjoy it while you can, Sucker!

- It’s 4 am and the kid is wide awake! Hahaha! I’m sleeping in, Bitch!

- It’s 8pm and you haven’t gotten shit done today. Also, maybe you could shower this week? Your hygiene is just despicable.

I imagine that if you disregard Kim, she will, of course, kill you in your sleep.

 

Fancy Espadrilles

There was, once upon a time, a me that would totally have worn these and loved it. That me never had to go to the playground and climb up a slide to extract a child who is trying to climb over a bunch of bars made for climbing under. Nor did that me have to run top speed after a wayward 3 year old on a scooter and a sugar high. And I’m pretty sure that me didn’t have to carry that same bruised, crying, now on a downward spiral from the sugar rush child home 15 blocks with the scooter in tow.

But what about date night you ask.

Ah, you crazy young folk, date nights are for relaxation, which means no dressing in anything uncomfortable, it also means not doing anything uncomfortable or taxing or far away or that requires a bathing suit. Screw it, basically, it means a movie with lots of movie candy. Don’t. Forget. The. Damn. Candy!

 

Hip Tube Top and Shorty Shorts


See reason above. As well as, police code 314, which states: Don’t Nobody Nowhere Need to See Any Of What Chu Or What Chu Ain’t Got Goin’ On! Also, I have to point out, that should anyone take me up on what my tube top suggests I would have to kill them, which, of course, would then be a police code 187 with some 314 thrown in, I think I’d get life?

 

Marie Claire Magazine May 2011

There are brief moments where I fool myself into thinking that such a magazine will make me feel better or give me some really helpful life tips. But then I open the cover only to find that it says things like this:

Anal, really? How about a Hotel Room ALONE is the new oral? That would work! I love that right above this “hey, all the cool girls are doin’ it” article there’s a snippet of info about how women want more personal space. Thanks, for the clarity, Marie Claire!

And I must a HUGE thank you to the mag for helping to continue women’s fight for equality with articles that suggest alimony, when paid to husbands by their much higher earning wives, is wrong.

Then, of course, (best for last) there’s the super duper helpful piece interviewing real women (who refuse to give their names) about how to successfully balance motherhood and a career. I really don’t think anything makes me feel better than knowing there are flourishing professional women out there who have to hide away their families and their own identities like they are in Witness Protection in order to get ahead…all this under the heading: …Get Ahead Tips…

I don’t think I have to tell you what orifice I think Marie Claire should shove it…

So, for the moment, I’ve put away the credit card, picked up a more respectable mag like US Weekly and retreated back to this here Interweb.

It feels good to be back.

And, HEY!, check me out over at The Mouthy Housewives where I’m pitching in every now and again (like today!) with some advice! (I’m not sure why they picked me…I think they drink…but I’m soaking it all up until they sober up!)

Filed Under: ad hoc LIFE, Rants
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May3It’s Always The Dude With The Most Hands Who Gets All The Attention.
Tonya

P and I went to the Aquarium recently. I’m not sure which one of us was more excited. Ok, I’m going to guess P, since they weren’t giving away free Louboutins or tickets to the next Jay-Z concert. Although, I must say, the penguins really crack me up. Anyway, we took the train. And then we took another one…aaaannnnnndddd….another one because they were working on the tracks. I guess this is an improvement over winter when you have to switch trains due to bad weather? We made the most of it though.

P used my cell to take some awesome photos:

I think they really speak to the Brooklyn-ness of Brooklyn.

Then we pretended to be the various animals we would see at the aquarium:

P talking like a walrus. He really knows his animals! I’m not sure if you’ve ever had a conversation with a walrus but it’s hard to keep from laughing and also it’s hard to understand what they’re saying because they giggle a lot.

When we got to the aquarium we were just in time to see the sharks being fed. P was psyched. Frankly, I was a bit disappointed. Apparently, these sharks eat fish not stranded surfers and inexperienced swimmers. WTF? Am I right? It’s like when I went to Graceland and they wouldn’t show me the toilet Elvis died on…

I think these are vegan sharks? They at least have an issue with eating humans. They said they wouldn’t even wear human skin jackets!

I got over my being bummed when we got to watch Osborn the hilarious sea lion. He played pranks on his trainer and yelled at the crowd. My kind of guy. Like Eminem but with fins.

Quite spicy language for a sea lion!

P was a little less impressed but then we saw a woman walking through the stadium selling dolphin hats and he was elated. After that, Osborn could do no wrong!

This kid takes fashion VERY seriously, and also, sun safety.

The we caught the walruses having lunch. But they were too busy eating to talk, so, thankfully, I didn’t have to try and be polite and not laugh while they spoke. P got to climb an enormous one that I’m pretty sure was a real fossil from back when walruses ruled the earth during the Jurassic Period. I’m pretty sure that’s what I read.

A real fossil!

We also saw penguins, jellyfish, sea anemones, otters, huge sea turtles, and all kinds of really brightly colored fish. P couldn’t wait to get home and tell Daddy all about it!

Here’s his summary as soon as my spouse walked in the door:

“Daddy, we saw an octopus today, but it was sleeping. I’m hungry.”

Octopus. Sleeping. Or maybe dead. It’s hard to tell.

Filed Under: ad hoc LIFE, Entertainment, Motherhood: Fun?
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Apr14Celebrating 1 Year of Ad Hoc MOM In Typical Ad Hoc Fashion!
Editors

With the Mom 2.0 Summit upon us this coming weekend we realized, quite a bit late, that Ad Hoc MOM has been bringing the ridiculous, the crazy, and all things duct tape and wine soaked for over a year now! We feel so grateful for all of our awesome readers and the incredible rockin’ bloggers we’ve met!

To celebrate we thought we’d take a look back at a few of our first posts:

From Carrie: An Ad Hoc MOM’s Bag of Tricks, January 24, 2010

What’s in your purse?

From Paula: An Ad Hoc MOM’s Work Space, January 27, 2010

What’s in your workspace?

From Tonya: An Ad Hoc MOM’s Palm Pilot, February 1, 2010

I have again resorted to writing on my hand (a la high school). My Iphone’s To-Do application is full of things that are ongoing projects, such as preschool applications, finding a therapist to deal with the aftermath of said applications, etc. So, for things that must be done ASAP they go on the hand and if they don’t get done they get rewritten. I will probably die of some strange ink related illness later in life; they will ask my husband: “did she work in an ink factory? Because the levels of such and such toxic chemical were really high.” He’ll say: “No she just forgot a lot of stuff.”

What’s in your palm pilot?

Filed Under: ad hoc LIFE, Celebrations
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Apr5The Unfortunance of Being Nauseous
Tonya

I’m a little worried that the next time I step foot in the Y down the street from my house they will take my ID away and escort me back out. I didn’t exercise in the nude or hit on any of the members or try to score coke in the ladies’ toilet (maybe I should have?) but I’m pretty sure I did something just as bad.

Last Sunday at about noon I decided, after a weekend of pure gluttony (ok, no Twinkies were had but that’s only because I couldn’t find them. Seriously, I really love Twinkies.) I decided I should make my way to the gym for a run. Once there, I very “smartly” situated myself between a Jessica Biel look-a-like and a more feminine Madonna.

Ok, so I didn’t have their biker shorts and racer tank tops. Nor did I have the matching sports water bottles and pedometers surgically implanted into the wrists. Instead I was in pajama bottoms (they’re kind of like running kulats: fashion forward and sporty!), a t-shirt with a picture of a refrigerator running (because that’s true comedy!), mismatched socks, and the largest bottle of water I could find, about the size of a small child.  But I was still feeling pretty good. I was in the game! Hey, I figured, if they could run 4 minute miles so could I! Before I had P, I was in awesome shape and could totally wipe the floor with these two yahoos (well, at least in my revisionist history) so I can totally keep up with them now. How hard can it be?

No one told me running that fast in a hot room without any ventilation feels like death. It does…or at least what I’m pretty sure death feels like if you were beaten to death with your own shoe while being force fed horse manure. Yea. It feels like that.

This sad sojourn to the Y also happened to coincide with a period of time where my body and I have been playing a nice little game of pretend. I make believe it looks like it did pre-baby and it acts as if it is also that body pre-baby.

Ok, so maybe this is not me, per se, pre-baby. But you don’t have any pictures that say otherwise!

After about 30 minutes of this charade my body finally cried uncle. I hit the emergency stop button on the treadmill, the one that I’m pretty sure they put there for the old folks whose glaucoma has gotten so bad they can’t really see. I grabbed my 3 foot tall bottle of water and stumbled out of the room. I didn’t make it far though before my body started retching and my mouth began producing excess saliva. I was a rabid dog with turrets. It’s amazing the kind of personal space folks allow you if they think you’re drunk, crazy, and about to vomit all over their New Balance!

Since my house is only 2 blocks from the Y, I thought, if I really hurried, I could make it. I did not.

I didn’t even make it a block.

On a sunny afternoon, in a well-crowded street, mere steps from my gym, I lost my entire breakfast and what I’m pretty certain were some of my more vital organs. And now the Y thinks I have bulimia while my neighbors, I’m pretty sure, think I’m a drunk. The good thing though is my body and I have finally realized it’s time to head to some couples counseling because post-baby things are NOT the same.

On a side note: my son pooped in the potty! It’s like he got into Harvard ya’ll!! I’m so proud!! And, yes, I do realize that I should put away a little money each month for all of the therapy he will need later in life.

Filed Under: ad hoc LIFE, Exercise?
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Mar31Lunch Time
Carrie

I have run out of ideas for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Waffles, chicken nuggets, macaroni and cheese, repeat, don’t eat, repeat, don’t eat. Meal times have become intolerable for the whole family. Don’t believe me? Here’s documented proof.

But who’s kidding who? This distress signal is about more than just food options. It’s about the d…r….a….g of the middle of the day. Sometimes, it just seems interminable. Especially after a skipped nap.

To those who have already seen this picture on Facebook, I apologize. But I think you’ve been sufficiently warned that this is an emergency type situation.

With appropriate amounts of love, remorse and dried up broccoli and chicken bits under my fingernails,

As ever,

Carrie

Filed Under: ad hoc LIFE, Food
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