It's official: I'm becoming my father.

My parents are lively and active people. The word 'retirement' is akin to the most offensive of curse words in their eyes, I think. Over drinks when my dad was in town, he said: "I hate that word." And I swear he was this close to spitting on the ground to show his disdain. All I know is that my parents never stop working, never stop moving, and never stop partying. My dad is in his seventies and he still travels for work all the time - not because he has to, but because he wants to.

And my mom is basically Wonder Woman. She's a very successful real estate agent, she teaches six jazzercise classes a week (the majority of them at 5:45 in the GD morning!), she has two horses that she trains and takes care of almost every day, and she cooks dinner every freaking night.

 

via GIPHY

And yet, I manage to be surprised if they don't answer the phone when I call.

Me: I think my parents find me dull.

The Mr: Why?

Me: Neither one of them is answering their phone! Do I call too often? Are they sick of me? You know, most parents would love it if their kid just called to say hi as often as I do, but they're totally ghosting me! Do they think I'm boring?

The Mr: Maybe they do.

Me: ...thanks, babe.

And then later that night, my dad called me. HE CALLED ME.

Me, too excitedly: Hi, Dad!

Dad: Hey, how are you?

Me: Great! How are you?

Dad: Well, I'm okay. Your mom is in Chicago visiting your sister and the new baby, so I'm just sitting in the parking lot of <LOCAL RESTAURANT>, trying to decide whether or not to go in and get dinner... there are a lot of cars here, so I don't know... or maybe I should call Nick and see if he wants to meet.... I don't know, we've been hanging out a lot this week since both of our wives are out of town... maybe he's sick of me.

The Mr: Did you see that apple just fall from that tree?

But maybe this is a good thing... because maybe it means that I'm also going to be a superhero who travels the world!

Or maybe this means my future just involves a closet full of leotards.

 

via GIPHY


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Grocery Store Anxiety

My mom and I were on our way to get our nails done before my wedding and as we were driving along, we were listening to the radio. We weren't talking much, but I didn't particularly find it to be an uncomfortable silence. My mother, however, did not feel the same way. Mom: For the love of God, say something.

Me: Um... sorry?

Mom: Why are you so quiet?

Me: I don't know! We're listening to music! I didn't have anything to say!

Mom: You always have something to say.

Me: Not always.

Mom: Well, the silence is weird.

Me: Alright... what are you going to do after we get our nails done?

Mom: I need to go to the grocery store.

Me: Oh... do you want me to go with you?

Mom: No, I like going by myself.

Me: Oh, thank God. I hate grocery stores.

Mom: ...what?

Me: I hate grocery stores. They give me anxiety.

Mom: How can a grocery store give you anxiety? It's just a grocery store.

Me: I don't know. I get overwhelmed. There are so many options.

Mom: Yeah, but just buy what you want. You don't need to get everything.

Me: Well, yeah, but I don't know what I want. Take bread for example, have you seen how many different types of bread there are? There's whole grain, all grain, 7-grain, whole wheat - what is the difference between whole grain and whole wheat, by the way, and which seven grains are in the bread, are those the seven grains that I want? - and then there's white bread, which I know isn't the one I should get, and then there's organic and all natural and so many different brands, you know? Oh man, and then I go to the produce aisle and I get so afraid of how to tell what's ripe and what stage do you buy certain things, and why is always SO COLD? I hate going through those freezer aisles. It's the worst --

Mom: --OH  MY GOD, STOP TALKING.

Me: YOU ASKED FOR THIS!

Mom: WELL I FORGOT WHO I WAS IN THE CAR WITH, OKAY?

Me: ....

Mom: ...your brain is really terrifying, you know that?

Me: Thanks, Mom.

And then it started to rain, but because we were in my brother's car, I couldn't figure out how to turn on the windshield wipers, so I started talking to the steering wheel and then I realized that the windshield wipers were activated by a lever that operated much like a Bop-It, so I started imitating the Bop-It, but I don't think my mom knows what a Bop-It is, so I can't really say that I helped ease her mind about me.

Needless to say, I did not end up having to go to the grocery store, so I still say the day was a massive success.


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Diary of a Wimpy Mommy - A Guest Post from Merima Trako

Hello, friends! Over the next few weeks, I am away for my wedding and honeymoon, so I've invited some of my favorite writers to keep you entertained in my absence! Enjoy!! 


I am a mother of two boys. They are healthy and happy, cute and smart, which is probably the most dangerous combination you can have. Many would say that I am lucky, which I am, but what they don’t know is the shenanigans that can come out of the two little monsters I brought into this world.

Case in point, last year when my older was six and younger four, my husband texted me a picture of the older with a massive cut on his lower lip. I was at work, and as every mother would, I panicked. I packed up quickly and rushed home. By the time I got home, the bleeding had stopped, and I managed to pull the wound together with two small band-aids to help it heal without too much scarring. I gave my son a hug, and I asked him what had happened. He told me how he and his brother had found a bungee cord in the garage and they were pulling at its ends on a hill behind our house. At one moment my four-year-old let his end go, and it rebounded to hit the six-year-old on the lip. After a lecture that they should not be playing with adult things, I asked my son what he’d learned from the experience. He said with a solemn look on his face: “ I learned that I should let go of the bungee cord, FIRST.” Not what I had in mind little buddy, not-at-all.

There were other incidents like this, mainly two of them trying somehow to hurt each other, unintentionally and mostly due to some not-so-smart decisions they both made. I am sometimes surprised how they both managed to stay in one piece.  

Another important thing to remember is that little kids will not hesitate to embarrass you in public.  Recently I went to the store with my now five-year-old. I bought a cake for my birthday and two candles (numbers 2 and 5). It was supposed to be a joke ( I am not 25 years old, but a decade older). The cashier scanned the cake and asked if it was my birthday. I said with a grin, “But of course, I am twenty-five, can’t you tell?” I was happy with my little quip. My little one turned and pronounced aloud so that the entire store (and maybe even people in the parking lot) could hear that I am certainly not twenty-five, but thirty (something) years old. We all laughed, some shoppers looked at me suspiciously, though, judging this deceit of cake candles.

So having two kids taught me to always be on a lookout for an object that could potentially become a dangerous toy. I don’t understand this notion that kids nowadays have no imagination. Mine have too much of it, they will think of all sorts of ways to use the most innocent inanimate objects as torture devices on each other.

I’ve also learned that my kids are not my friends. I cannot tell them any secrets, even the simplest ones, like my age. They will tell everyone. They’re the worst friends ever. If I were in high school, I would not invite them to my birthday party.

You also cannot say to your kids that you love them, they will use it against you. “But mommy, you cannot punish me, you love me.” They have no shame, these little monsters.

They are little divas. They want specific haircuts; shirts tucked in a certain way and pants of only one certain length. Girls are divas you say, well, you have not met my boys.

In a few years if you meet me on the street and I am muttering to myself about dirty socks, and muddy shoes and the smell of dirty feet and soccer uniforms, do look kindly on my disheveled mom-look and remember: I am raising two boy-monsters.


 

World According to Blam is a collection of opinions, poetry and short prose, written by Merima Trako. She lives in Connecticut, USA with her husband and two children. An Engineer, a mom, an ex-refugee, Bosnian, she views the world in a unique way, exposed to various settings and experiences in her life.

 

 

 


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In honor of Mother's Day...

Because this Sunday is Mother's Day, I thought it would be fun to revisit all of my mother's appearances on this blog, of which there are quite a few and they are all golden. So,  here's one of the latest and greatest. And don't forget: MOTHER'S DAY IS ON SUNDAY!!

And Once Again, My Mother, Ladies and Gentlemen...

So last night I was sitting at home and relaxing with some Netflix and my dog. It was perfect.

And then I went to wash my face.

"Why do my eyes look different?" I thought to myself. And then I realized that it wasn't that my eyes look different, it's that MY FACE IS FRAKING SWOLLEN AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHY.

So, I immediately texted my mother (because that's what you do in any emergency, and yes I count this as an emergency.), who is visiting my sister and niece in Chicago, which prompted this phone call:

Me: Hello?

Mom: What happened?

Me: I have no idea.

Mom: Is it allergies?

Me: I've never had an allergy! Why don't you know that? All I did today was go to work and eat mac and cheese!

Mom: Weird... Do you have some Benadryl?

Me: No...and everything's closed right now.

Mom: Alright, well... if it's still like that in the morning, go get some Benadryl and go to the doctor.

Me: I don't even know where there is a doctor... I've never needed one out here. I'M A CHILD.

Mom: Good God, Emelie...

Me: Anyway, how is Chicago?

Mom: Good. The baby has a fever.

Me: WE'RE DROPPING LIKE FLIES!!

Mom: Well, your sister and I are fine. We're just hanging out and drinking wine.

Me: Oh, maybe that's my issue. I was out of wine tonight. Maybe I'm having an allergic reaction to not having wine.

Mom: You're out of wine?!?!

Me: I know... I have failed you.

Mom: Well, that's obviously the problem. You need to fix that. Put that on your shopping list for tomorrow, too: Wine and Benadryl.

Sister in the background: What??? DON'T LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER!!!

Me: Mom, you give the best advice.

 

An Oldie, but a Goodie, because #TBT... and my mom.

The great thing about me posting on Thursdays is that whenever I don't have the time, I can just be all "THROWBACK THURSDAY, BITCHES!" and then all of you, my Duckies, are just like "Yay!! Trending social media topics!! I love them!!" In reality, I don't have the day off today, and so I'm scrambling to throw even these few sentences together before I go to work, but I wanted to get something posted because I'm leaving for BlogU tomorrow and I'm going to be meeting all sorts of new people who also blog and I figured that they should have a chance to get to know me (or my mother) a little bit better before we meet face to face.

So... I'm going with an oldie, but a goodie, because everyone loves stories about my mom and this was her debut into the blogosphere.

Quick side note: When I originally posted this, my mom was all "OMG, I'M FAMOUS!!" and then she emailed it to her entire office and they were all "EMELIE SHOULD SEND THIS INTO ELLEN!" and that's when I knew that I really was in Suburbia... because only middle-aged white housewives would immediately start begging me to submit my stuff to Ellen Degeneres.

Anyway... on to the Blog Post...

And My Mother Makes Her Debut... with Assless Chaps.

I have a strange life problem. Well... it's really a blessing and a curse.

I have a hot mom.

Don't get me wrong, 99% of the time, it freaking rocks to know that my parents are still so young looking. It bodes well for my own future. It's the other 1% I try and block out.

Let me explain:

My mom is in her mid-fifties and she looks like she's... well... much younger. Mind you, she has had no cosmetic surgery, the woman just teaches six aerobics classes a week, three of which are at 5:45 in the morning, and then she goes and rides her horse for at least an hour almost every day. Throw in the fact that we're 100% Swedish and you've got yourself one hot mamma. Needless to say, this woman can kick my ass. She's awesome.

She is also wonderfully weird.

We were sitting around the other day and having coffee, and the subject of Christmas came up.

Mom: Oh! If anyone is stuck on what to get me for Christmas, go to [insert big country horse supply store here]! They have so many awesome things!

Me: Okay, like what? Keep in mind that I'm poor.

Mom: Well, they even have horse treats.

Me: Mom... I'm not going to buy you a bag of horse treats for Christmas!

Mom: Well, I'll use them!

Me: Okay.. is there something that's in between horse treats and like... a new saddle?

Mom: Oh, I wouldn't ask you for a saddle. Oh, but you know what, they do have these awesome leather chaps that have fringe going all the way down the sides.

Me: As in... assless chaps?

Mom: Well, yeah, Emelie. All chaps are assless.

Me: I am not buying my mother anything that can be described as assless.

Mom: Why? I think they're cool!

Me: Let's change the subject please. How did your burlesque aerobics class go? I admit that this might not have been the best subject change, but this is how we talk, people.

Mom: Oh, it was so much fun! We had feather boas and everything, it was great. Oh, except my friend was sick and she was so upset that she couldn't be there.

Me: Oh, that sucks! She would have had fun.

Mom: I know, and she was supposed to make "penises in a blanket" so then we ended up not having any "penises in a blanket" :(

Me: Mom... I think it's about time I write about you in my blog.

Mom: Really? Why?

Me: Because I love you. And someone needs to start writing down the things that you say.

I'm not kidding, though. I truly do love my mom, and I rarely pass up the opportunity to hang out with her nowadays. I honestly hope that I'm as badass and free-spirited as she is for the rest of my life. She freaking rocks.

This also means I'm going to have to start working out, though...

I love you, Mom!

And yes... I did buy her the chaps.

And Once Again, My Mother, Ladies and Gentlemen...

So last night I was sitting at home and relaxing with some Netflix and my dog. It was perfect. And then I went to wash my face.

"Why do my eyes look different?" I thought to myself. And then I realized that it wasn't that my eyes look different, it's that MY FACE IS FRAKING SWOLLEN AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHY.

So, I immediately texted my mother (because that's what you do in any emergency, and yes I count this as an emergency.), who is visiting my sister and niece in Chicago, which prompted this phone call:

Me: Hello?

Mom: What happened?

Me: I have no idea.

Mom: Is it allergies?

Me: I've never had an allergy! Why don't you know that? All I did today was go to work and eat mac and cheese!

Mom: Weird... Do you have some Benadryl?

Me: No...and everything's closed right now.

Mom: Alright, well... if it's still like that in the morning, go get some Benadryl and go to the doctor.

Me: I don't even know where there is a doctor... I've never needed one out here. I'M A CHILD.

Mom: Good God, Emelie...

Me: Anyway, how is Chicago?

Mom: Good. The baby has a fever.

Me: WE'RE DROPPING LIKE FLIES!!

Mom: Well, your sister and I are fine. We're just hanging out and drinking wine.

Me: Oh, maybe that's my issue. I was out of wine tonight. Maybe I'm having an allergic reaction to not having wine.

Mom: You're out of wine?!?!

Me: I know... I have failed you.

Mom: Well, that's obviously the problem. You need to fix that. Put that on your shopping list for tomorrow, too: Wine and Benadryl.

Sister in the background: What??? DON'T LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER!!!

Me: Mom, you give the best advice.

A Mildly Inappropriate Conversation with My Mother

Mom: I just found your old bank checks that you lost a few months ago. Me: Seriously?! Where??

Mom: In a laundry hamper in the upstairs hall closet.

Me: Obviously.

Mom: Yeah, that makes total sense, right? I'm actually finding a lot of interesting things!

Me: Whatever it is, I'm holding it for a friend.

Mom: The packet of ribbed condoms, too? Darn, I was gonna take those! Hahaha

Me: Ew! What?!?!

Mom: They were inside a big winter glove. Probably a gag gift, right?

Me: Well, at least we know the gloves are having safe sex.

Mom: Hahaha - The poor thing doesn't have a partner, though!

Me: Aw, so lonely! And yes, my friend gave them out as a gag gift a few years ago. I completely forgot about those.

Mom: Nice!This is the fun part about my kids moving away. I get to go through all their sh-t... Good God, how many hats did you knit?!

Me: They kept me from needing the condoms.

 

knitting

And Then My Mom Gave Me "Medical" Advice.

So, last night I was wearing a skirt while a few of us were sitting outside on the patio, drinking some wine and enjoying a fire. It was actually quite a lovely evening, especially since it was the first time in weeks that it wasn't 90 degrees in the shade. Anyway, not the point.

Like I said, I was wearing a skirt. There were tons of mosquitos, so I grabbed some bug spray and covered myself. Like a normal human being, however, I didn't spray up my skirt. This might have been my first mistake.

Now, before you all start getting gross, no I don't have bug bites on my hooch. Get your minds out of that gutter.

do, however, have a shit-ton of bug bites on the back of my upper thigh.

THIS. IS. UNBEARABLE. You should know right now that I'm not one of those people who is all "Just don't itch it! Ignore it!" I'm more of a "GOOD GOD GET ME SOME STEAL WOOL TO GO AT THIS BABY" type of person.

I discovered this terrible case of awful this morning, when I woke up and was all "WHAT THE ACTUAL FRAK?!"

I stayed with my parents last night, so I came downstairs and was all "MOOOOMMMM!!!" because even when you're a grown-ass adult, you revert back to your childlike ways when staying in your childhood home.

Anyway, I showed my mom the archipelago of itchy terror that had formed on my body...

Mom: Good lord!!

Me: Is it bad?

Mom: What did you do?!?

Me: I don't know! Apparently bugs find me delicious...

Mom: Oh my gosh...

Me: Stop saying that!!

Mom: Let me go get some cream or something...

Me: Hurry... I can actually see them changing back and forth from red to white... What if I'm infected with some mutation? Mom!! I could be a superhero!!

No response.

Mom: Okay, put this on there. Seriously, what the heck did this?

Me: I don't know.

Mom: Did that help with the itching?

Me: Yeah, I think so...

Mom: Okay, well just keep an eye on it.

Me: How? It's not exactly in an easy location.

Mom: Well... every once in a while, just spread your legs and have a look.

Me: ...You really need to start thinking before you speak.

A Very Merry Christmas Indeed – Especially for My Mom…

So I'm back from the Christmas insanity! Sort of. The family is still in town and much of my day consists of "having a conversation" with my one-year-old nephew who knows the word "Da." I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas. We certainly did! Here are just some of the highlights:

Dragon joined us for the first time, got a lot of sweaters and a pipe.

And Dragon got me some dresses and this stuff:

both

He has real alpaca fur!

card

I made a hat for my sister, but it turned out to be way too small. She looked like a smurf. I wish I had a picture of this, but I don't. Sorry.

And, of course...

image

photo

Yeah, I thought you would all appreciate that. After all of you reacted so wonderfully to mine and my mother's little conversation, Dragon and I could not resist buying these for her. She owes you all a major thank you!

Now we are all sitting around and waiting for the apparent "snowpocalypse" that is supposed to come, but there is nothing. According to The Weather Channel, we have a Winter Storm Warning as of 7AM and we're supposed to get 8-12 inches today. I have yet to see a single flake. I am pissed. My plans were to sled until I couldn't breathe before going to work. Now it looks like I'll just have to go to work. Disappointed. Way to fail, Weather People. Way to freaking fail.

UPDATE: It just started snowing like crazy. I take that back, Weather People. You guys rock.

So yeah, other than that, life is good. Sorry for my extreme absence these past few days, but I'm sure you understand and you'll forgive me. Right? Yeah, I thought so.

So... tell me about your Christmas!

Don't all Mothers Have "Unintentionally" Perverse Cookie Cutters?

So, today is a Swedish Christmas Holiday. December 13th is St. Lucia Day. In honor of this holiday, I got together with my mom to bake a bunch of Swedish Christmas cookies and saffron bread (St Lucia Buns!)  Now, as many of you may remember, my mother is anything but normal... or prude.

Which explains why she has cookie cutters of Santa that look like this:

She says it's supposed to be the trim of his coat. I say it looks like Santa shouldn't be around children. Same diff.

Yup. I literally made about 35 of those creepy little Santa freaks and I am not proud. (Okay, I kind of am proud due to the comedy gold that I was finding in it, but morally I am not proud!) So, I was also extra careful when spacing them out on the cookie sheet.

Mom: Emelie, you can put them closer together than that!

Me: Mother, we do not need these things looking any more inappropriate than the already do. I think some distance is mandatory. If I could give them each their own cookie sheet, I would.

Mom: Oh, Emelie. Stop being gross!

Me: Me?!?? I'm the one being gross??? I'm sorry, but someone was clearly not thinking in the cookie cutter factory that day. I'm just saying.

To back up my point, I sent that photo to John Hamm, Gumby, and Apollo

John Hamm: What the hell?

Gumby: I don't even know how that looks like Santa!!

Me: Welcome to life with my mother. Nothing is sacred.

I suspect that Apollo was too ashamed or embarrassed to reply. He is probably cursing me for having ruined the sanctity of Christmas or something. He is such a stickler.