Archive for August, 2009

open letter to sandy and tricia mcilree

so, i’ve been listening to mix 94.7 on and off since it was party 94.7. i was there when jb and sandy started doing the morning show. when my family moved to omaha in 1998, one of the things i was going to miss was the morning show on 94.7.

i remember when jb and erin were just dating and i remember when raleigh was born. i’ve been through bridget, funky, steak boy, deb, autumn (i really miss autumn), bri and lauren. i’m really pleased with the addition of sarah and cass. i remember when alex was digitz and sandy was sandy rivers.

i remember the big boat movie and to this day i reach for my phone to call whenever the big boat movie is mentioned. i remember the mixes one of the producers (it must have been funky) made of  “my heart will go on” and when another radio station stole the mix and claimed it as their own. i remember when another mix was made and sandy called out “hey! we’re playing it now! start recording!” to the other radio station.

on spring break of my freshman year of high school (about a month after jb and sandy started) i won a contest they put on. listeners needed to call in with a great excuse for not being able to come into work. i was having my tonsils removed that day and decided that was a pretty good reason. i won tickets to a carnival that was in town.

i remember when sandy played rugby and had to tape his ears. i remember seeing a picture of it.

i remember when sandy was NEVER getting married (again) and NEVER having children. i remember being extremely happy to hear that he had proposed to tricia and again when they were expecting. landry is flippin’ adorable.

i remember when one valentines day, a gay man was trying to win one of the last reserved spots for a nice restaurant that jb and sandy had. because they were considering letting the gay man have it, a (now former?) listener wrote in very upset because homosexuality was a sin and he was shocked that jb and sandy would consider helping out this homosexual man.

whenever i call in and the fact that i used to live in omaha, sandy always asks what part of omaha i lived in. when i mention (reluctantly now because i know what is coming) millard, he gives me a hard time because that is the westlake of omaha (for what it’s worth, we lived on the east side of millard which is not like westlake).

i called in when they were discussing high maintenance women and wanted some to call in. some other callers went on before me and when they finally picked up my line, i “chewed” them out for making me wait so long like any high maintenance woman would do.

my in-laws also listen to jb and sandy and my father in law even helped out with the “asian girls eating pluckers hot wings” by offering to pay the $1,000 reward if they could eat all 100(?) hot wings.

some of the things they have done over the past 14 years have made me cringe, but mostly they make me laugh. this morning, however, i was not laughing, i was very sad for a very young girl.

sandy’s wife, tricia, had a baby 10 (11?) weeks ago. last night, they let her cry it out (CIO). here is my open letter to sandy and his wife tricia:

Dear Sandy and Tricia,

As you’ve read above, I’m a big fan of the JB and Sandy Morning Show and have been for years. I’m so happy that Sandy has found someone he can be happy with and that the two of you have a beautiful little girl. I love seeing her pictures via Twitter and love hearing Landry stories.

Raising children is a tough job. It comes with challenges around every corner and you are faced with some very tough decisions. Whatever decision you are faced with, there are thousands of books to tell you why THIS decision is the best one.

You are given advice (whether or not you want it) by doctors who specialize in children, by doctors who specialize in podiatry, by moms, dads, grandmas, aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors, friends and (my all time favorite) people whose only experience in anything “children” comes from what they see on TV. They’ve never so much as looked at a baby in real life, but by golly, they know exactly what you should do when it comes to your kids. Then of course, there’s always the random radio listener with a blog *ahem*. Oh, my other all time favorite is the friend whose cousins neighbors kids teachers ex-husbands step-sister’s dogs fathers owners pen pals daughter had that same problem and this is what they did and it worked within minutes! So it HAS to work with your kid! Oh, you already tried that? And it didn’t work? Well, you did it wrong, because is DOES work!

You catch my drift?

Anyway.

I too have been struck by the sudden need to give un-solicited advice from time to time. I usually can quash that feeling by doing something else as equally unproductive. Sometimes I give-in. I’m afraid to say that this is one of those give-in times and you are the recipient of my very-unsolicited-but-i-have-to-say-something-advice.

Just for the record, I am qualified to give this advice. I have squirted out three of my own kids. I have yet to lose one and as of 8am this morning, none of them have asked to speak to a therapist. I am also the oldest of three, I have a nephew, my best friend has five kids whom I’ve known all their lives (ok, the oldest I met when she was 13 months old, but she’s known me for as long as she can remember), my neighbor has a couple of kids whom I’ve also known all their lives, I babysat as a teen, I was a nanny in Omaha and I play an expert on the internets. I’ve also seen A Baby Story on TLC.

So, onto the actual point of this open letter containing unsolicited advice.

This morning Sandy mentioned that Landry was left to CIO. Now, yes, I understand she wasn’t actually “left”, that you were both still in the room with her while she was screaming “WHY? WHY? WHY?”, but that’s about as useful as water to a dead man. Sandy, if you were in intense pain, would the knowledge that Tricia was in the same room but watching TV be any comfort to you? (Sorry honey, I’m watching the “G.I. Joe” movie [that’s actually an inside joke, my five readers will get it]).

Yes, I understand that you are trying to teach Landry to comfort herself. Seriously, the ONLY thing a 10 week old baby needs to learn is that when she cries, you will be there to help her. She spent nine months in a very dark, very cozy, very small space, give her a while to adjust before you throw her to the wolves! Ten weeks is not enough! Even the “experts” say that if you are going to CIO, wait until they are AT LEAST six months of age. That’s more than twice what she is now!

Now, I’m not a fan of CIO at any age. I never did with my three. At six, five and 13 months, they don’t have problems going to sleep. Sure the older two sometimes grump when it’s bedtime, but they don’t scream and stamp their feet until we let them stay up as late as they want. The 13 month old usually goes to bed without a problem. Sometimes she decides it’s not bedtime when we decide it is, but that is the exception, not the rule. These times we let her stay up a little bit longer and then try again.

My point is that not letting her CIO is not going to set you up for years of a bratty child. She is only going to be a baby once, snuggle her while you can. Let her know that you will always be there for her when she needs you. Right now she needs you to hold her. It won’t kill you.

erin

roaches will be the death of me

the first memory i have of a roach was when we were living in an apartment in austin. my mom had called my dad to come home from work and kill the roach that was in the  bathroom sink.

it all went downhill from there.

fortunately, in the various places i’ve lived after moving out of my parents home, i’ve only had one roach in my abode. it was actually recently. the tall one was not so nicely woken up one evening and ordered to go and destroy the beast that had invaded our home. he smashed it a couple of times with the nearest deadly weapon…an empty milk container…and the face eater fell into the magazine basket. he thought the job done, and headed back to bed. “nuh-uh!” i gasped, “i have no proof that IT is actually dead”. the magazine basket was removed to the front porch, i swallowed a couple of klonopins and we continued on with our lives.

further proof that i am terrified of the fiends? when angelo spent two months in that other city, the kids and i were visiting him (that sentence is grammatically incorrect, but after 9 p.m. my grammar goes to shit). he was working and i was at his temporary home with the kiddos. i walked into the kitchen to find the largest red wasp i had ever seen in my entire life. not only could this thing eat my face with one bite, it could take out my entire head, neck and one shoulder as well. so uncool.

i called the tall one and informed him that if he didn’t make haste back there with an m-16 to take this thing out, i was calling the police to come and take care of it. he informed me that he was not coming home and that if i called the police to rid the house of a wasp, he would live in that other city forever while i still lived in herein. obviously, he is not very sympathetic to my plight.

so, i took matters into my own two and a half hands. i grabbed a cup, covered the beastie, listened to it buzz obscenities at me from beneath it’s trapping, slid a piece of cardboard under the cup (this was the scariest part as i am convinced that bugs have supernatural powers that allow them to materialize from the trap to the outside world with just a sliver of crack [i will totally make that make sense in the morning]), somehow, i was able to open the door to the mudroom, and the door to the outside, AND the screen door to release the upper body eating creature.

had that been a roach, instead of a wasp? the kids and i would have been outside in the cold hitching a ride to where ever angelo was at. i.don’t.do.roaches.

it’s a good thing i don’t know any national secrets, because the only thing someone would have to do to get them from me, is put me within seeing distance of the varmint, and i would tell them everything from grandma’s secret apple pie recipe to the secret code to get into canada (i have just killed my chances at getting any sort of security clearance).

guys, i have nightmares about these things. i skip the pages that discuss roaches in the kids’ “all about bugs” books. i know that it is completely irrational. i KNOW that roaches don’t bite. i KNOW that had the wasp had a chance, he would have been rubbing his butt all over me, but a roach would just try to fly away…but, it doesn’t make a difference.

there is a better chance that i will wake up at 5:30 every morning for the rest of my life, than ever willingly go near a roach. THAT is how much they terrify me.

edited to add: i didn’t grow up in a roach infested hovel.

what happened?

so, i said it was going to be a week, and i ended up not blogging for almost two months…so where was i?

well, you see, the week had ended, and i was out for an evening stroll when i was suddenly overtaken by a blinding light! suddenly i found myself floating in the air rising higher and higher! the light was so blinding that i couldn’t see anything! when the floating weightlessly through the air sensation ended, i found myself in an empty room save for the bench i was perched upon! across the vast room, a door hissed open and someone waltzed through the room towards me! as they came closer i realized it was me! (i NEED to do something about my hair, and i didn’t realize how fat those pants made me look). “i” started to speak and “i” told me that i was here in search of intelligent life. i then informed “myself” that “i” had the wrong person and “i” needed to go to abigail‘s house. “oh” “i” said. then i was  unceremoniously dropped on my butt back where i had been taken from. what only seemed like a few moments in the mother ship was almost two months in earth time. has anyone heard from abigail lately?

you’re not buying that are you?

ok.

so, i was out on the lake floating around on a tube without a care in the world. suddenly! a ship approached and i found myself scooped up in a large net and plopped rather rudely on the deck of the ship! after the shock, i looked around and found myself surrounded by three dozen smelly, unshaven, dirty (and in desperate need of a dentist) pirates! a man who identified himself as captain duracell announced to me that i had been chosen as the newest member of their crew. obviously, i was not in a position to decline as while he was making his “request” we stopped by the plank. “ok” i answered meekly and we spent the next month stealing candy from babies before i was able to escape by, well, bleeding. the pirates thinking this a bad omen (and obviously having no idea about the inner-workings of a woman’s body) threw me overboard to the sharks. in their haste to be rid of me, they threw me over the side with the rowboat and i spent the next month floating around aimlessly around the lake before i was found delirious by a couple of local fisherman by the shore. before you ask, i was unable to retain any of the candy i had stolen from innocent babies.

no?

a flock of wild geese picked me up and…?

the russian army was searching for a crystal skull and kidnapped me to find it for them?

the house across the street where a crazy old man had died tried to eat me?

my older sister, jane, and i were swept off of our feet (well, she was swept up right away, i was dragged kicking and screaming) by two very wealthy men?

alright fine, i procrastinated. jeez, y’all are no fun whatsoever.

project “WAKE UP ERIN!”

so, i’ve NEVER been a morning person. even with a good amount of sleep, waking up in the mornings is tough. seriously, why would i want to leave the comfort of my bed? yeah, i can’t think of a reason either. don’t get started about the beauties of life, and the kids and their smiling faces…because, invariably, they are smiling because they are doing something they shouldn’t be. and the beauty of life…guys, i live in central texas, we’ve just completed our 52nd consecutive day of 100+ degree temperatures. it’s hot. even aidan doesn’t want to be outside.

so anyway, because rousing myself from the comfort of my cozy bed is so difficult, i generally don’t do it until olivia starts protesting her cribbed captivity. usually, the bigs are also awake at this point and i have to start my day immediately, instead of easing into it. you know, cuppa joe, some quiet time on the internets, a shower…whatever. i have an alarm, but, bad habit turns it off, i turn over and start dreamin’ away again. something has to be done, and the promise of the aforementioned pleasantries just don’t seem to be doing it.

so, i need a volunteer. someone who will be up at 5:45a.m. CST every morning for at leastthe next 21 days. it is supposed to take 21 days to form a habit, so the goal is to go 21 consecutive days of waking up early and then it is supposed to be…well…habit. this wonderful volunteer is to check my twitter (@oneandonly_erin) to see if i have tweeted that i am up. that tweet should happen shortly after 5:30a.m. CST. if i have not, well, a phone call is required. i have very obvious you-disturbed-my-slumber voice and if my slumber has indeed been interrupted by this phone call, well, i’m going to need to be coached out of bed (think football coach) and reprimanded before the twitterverse. oh, andwe start back from day one. hey, maybe someone can offer an awesome prize (3-4 round trip tickets to charleston, south carolina would be nice) if i make it in one shot.

so, to sum it up:

  • i hate rising from my bed.
  • i need someone to be my “coach”
  • this someone will need to be awake enough to check my twitter by 5:45a.m. CST to see if i have risen for the next 21 days by that time (this includes weekends y’all)

anyone up for the challenge?

friends for life

my favorite photo from our photo shoot with abigail and jerry’s kids on sunday. for 11 days every year, we have five consecutive years represented. this year we have ages 3-7.

from youngest to oldest: meghan, tony, moira, aidan and katie.

friends for life

after lilly’s 2nd birthday in december, we’ll have the same type of photo with the babies.