Things That Make You Go Hmmmm

Wow, actually have time to write since we dumped all the kids at Grandma's house. However, I think I am a little unstable mentally since I spent the morning in the hot sun picking up doggie doodies so I am just going to ramble a while.

1) Am I the only one not surprised that reality dad Brian Masche went all OJ on his family? Anyone who watched Jon and Kate could see the crack in their marriage get bigger and bigger with each episode. His passive eye rolling whenever she criticized him turned into aggressive but ineffective verbal bombs signalling the end was near. With Brian Masche, the cracks in his sanity and personality were evident from episode one. If you are a parent, you knew that he was looney tunes the moment he moved the family away from the grandparents. Who turns their back on free babysitting for one kid, let alone six kids? Only somebody nuts.

2) I am kind of ashamed to admit this but Paul McCartney looked really hot on the Hard Rock Concert that was on VH1 yesterday. I am more of the lust for no bocha Eddie Vedder types but dang, clean cut, suspender wearing Sir Paul was totally adorable and yummy in his cute Beatle way. I wish he would let go natural and stop with the brown hair dye though. Those of us who bought the I Wanna Hold Your Hand in 33 RPM will accept you and love you even if you are way way way over 64.

3) I am still hopelessly addicted to Pit Boss on Animal Planet even though they now run a disclaimer at the end of every episode explaining that the show is a docudrama and that the dogs have been placed in caring homes. Cannot figure out if I have a mad crush on Shorty Rossi, like seeing an Asian who is not all happy happy joy joy but constantly complaining (so very un-Oriental), or just like seeing the dogs. Probably a little of both. I watched the new episode yesterday three times. Mental...

4) I could never understand why people said you should not even try meth one time because you will be hooked for life but then I took a hit of something called Chocolate Mochi (which is actually chocolate covered mochi crunch) that was on sale at Longs for $12.99 this week. This is my new crack of choise, I am totally hooked. It never leaves my side the moment I get into bed and I've even taken to hiding it in the futon so I don't have to share with the kids. Pretty much have replaced eating regular meals with scarfing down handfuls of the stuff. Planning to take a drive to Longs under the cover of buying toothpaste to make another score

5) Picking up dog poop sucks. Even if the poop is hard and looks like chalk, it sucks to pick it up. Even if you don't have to touch the stuff and use your blue clampy poop thing, it sucks. They need to clone a dog who doesn't poop or invent a dog bidet. I love my dogs but it is much easier to pick up rabbit poop.

6) Why do I get jealous when the important men in my life have girlfriends? No, not Oscar the Grouch (I wrote IMPORTANT - duh) but the other men - my sons, my brother, my friends who are like brothers. I even hate the little cute 6 year old who hangs all over the Mad Cow. Even if the girl is super sweet and a perfect match, I still hate them and want to feed them to Sadako in the well from The Ring. If I met the girl on her own, I would probably be good friends with her but the fact that she's paired up with one of MY GUYS irks me to no end and I turn into an evil K-Drama overprotective insane mother-in-law. Haven't stabbed any of them yet but I do shoot major stink eye daggers. Majorly psychotic, I guess, or menopausal.

7) I should not type until I have had coffee. Definitely should not post anything on Facebook until the caffeine has kicked in.

8) There really needs to be a reality show called "The Wine Gang". No script needed, no retakes - just let the camera go. For example, a reporter came this week to ask the boys about women soldiers becoming part of the 100th/442nd and the possibility of these women being deployed alongside the men. The reporter goes, "Were there any working women when you were fighting in Europe?" to which the response was, "Oh yeah, prostitutes!!!!!" This was followed by a good hour of stories about the international buffet of ladies-of-the-night offered to the soldiers during WWII as well as USO volunteers who would do it for free. Dang- those guys lived life to the fullest.

9) Please vote for Margaret Cho on DWTS so people will stop asking me if I am her. Folks, you can tell us apart because she has tattoos on both arms and her eyes are bigger than mine.

10) It may take years and years but bachi happens!

May I Have More SIster Wives, Please?

In the past few weeks, there has been a lot of brouhaha over the new TLC Show, Sister Wives, which features a normal family consisting of one husband, thirteen kids and three wives. At first, I wasn't going to watch because I figured it would be like watching the whole Warren Jeffs debacle on CNN or the Duggar's plus two wives, you know, lots of women with long brown ponytails dressed like their Little House on the Prairie finest and an overly horny American Gothic-esq master. However, when I saw the promos on TLC and noticed that the women were not dressed as though they were on Pilgrim Runway, I thought I'd at least sneak a guilty peak.

The strange thing is about this strange family is that they were pretty normal and boring as all heck. It was almost as dull as the "drama" on the Real Housewives of DC. A bunch of white chicks sitting around talking. That's it.

As I watched though, I starting finding myself thinking that as much as the media condemns the whole polygamy marriage concept as horribly misogynistic, it really seemed like a good deal for the women involved. The burdens of running the home and caring for the children (as well as the obligatory swarmy and useless dad) were distributed amongst the wives with each responsible for the specific duties she preferred or did the best. The wife with the good job went out to work, the motherly one cared for the children and the insane one who enjoyed housework did the laundry. The house was spotless, the meals were all cooked from scratch and the kids seemed remarkably normal. Perhaps it is editing but not a single monku was heard from anyone (unlike those of us who are the one wife and spend most of our waking hours monkuing to any friend we can get on the phone).

What kind of sealed the deal for me about the positive side of the whole sister wife thing is one of the women explaining that her sister was in a polygamist marriage. When her sister was diagnosed with terminal cancer, she did not have the additional stress of wondering about who would care for her children when she was gone. She knew that the sister wives would care for her kids as they considered all of their children to be true brothers and sisters - not half-siblings. She had lived with the other women every day and knew how they parented. So when her time came to pass on, she did so knowing her children would be loved and the other wives would keep her memory alive.

With so many of us suffering from heart disease, diabetes and high blood pressure at an early age, the reality is that the time may come sooner than we think that we must face our own mortality. While it may be easy to accept that it is time for us to go to the great beyond, the fear of what will happen to the children left behind is almost too terrifying to deal with. Of course, the assumption is the surviving spouse would become the primary caregiver as a single parent (with the extended 'ohana stepping in) but what happens when a new significant other is added to the mix? Will Daddy's new "friend" from a hostess bar on Keeaumoku be able to help with homework when she has to punch in at 7 pm? Will that new "Uncle" that Mommy brought home remember to stop leaving the open bottles of Bud out of reach from the baby? The shadow of the unknown stepparent looms over every parent. This is why we have opted just not to deal with it, instead making the totally idiotic promise that we will not kick the bucket at the same time - at least until the Mad Cow heads off to college.

Oprah says that the toughest job in the world is being a parent. She is wrong, that is the 2nd toughest job. The #1 toughest job is being a parent to someone else's kid. I know that I am not the best parent but I figure that since I bred them, I have the right to screw them up since they are my products. You know, the whole train of thought that goes, "I brought you into this world so I can take you out". But screwing up someone else's kid (unless they are giving hassles to my kids in which case I will F them up to no end) is not something I will even consider.

We were asked once if we would be guardians to a friend's kid in the event they passed away. We didn't have to discuss the matter before we told them that we could not do it. Not only were there cultural and religious differences between us but our parenting styles were totally different. Adding this child to our already chemically imbalanced brood would result in a hazardously toxic mix. So we had to say no which was very difficult to do. I mean, how would you react if your friends said "Thanks for thinking of us but we really don't want to have anything to do with your kid when you kick the bucket." Our relationship with them has not been the same but it was something that we had to do because we knew we could not raise her in the manner they would want her raised. Also, kids are like dogs, if you don't get them trained at puppy age, you are screwed and have to go on the Dog Whisperer. The prospect of letting their child live in our pack of semi-obedient human pit bulls and not being able to send her back somewhere when she was somewhat trained was a definite no go.

The one thing I know for sure is that there will never be a reality show called Brother Husbands. Think about it, have you ever heard a woman say that she wished she could have multiple husbands? Most of us don't even want to deal with the one we have at home, let alone add a few more to the mix. I don't need a Brother Husband because I already have another man in my life to do the jobs that my husband doesn't do - things like fixing things around the house, repairing my car, telling me I am always right, picking up the kids when I can't get there. Best of all, this man is stuck with me for life. His name - DADDY!!!!