Man's Dictionary For Women

Man's Dictionary For Women:


(1) Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.

(2) Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.

(3) Nothing: The calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with "nothing" usually end in "fine".

(4) Go Ahead: This is not permission, this is a dare. Don't Do It!

(5) Loud Sigh: This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing there and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to # 3 for the meaning of "nothing".)

(6) That's Okay: The most dangerous statement a women can make to a man. "That's okay" means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

(7) Thanks: If a woman is thanking you, do not question, or faint. Just say you're welcome. (Exceptions include when she says 'Thanks a lot' - then she is using sarcasm and not thanking you at all. Under no circumstances reply, 'you're welcome'. That will bring on a 'whatever' - see below).

(8) Whatever: A woman's way of saying...Go to Hell...

(9) Don't worry about it, I got it: This is something a woman says after she's told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking 'What's wrong?' For the woman's response refer to # 3.

Punishment Must Fit the Crime

My son came home with a detention for forgetting his book in another class.


Okay, fine.

I'm not the teacher, but if there are punishments on kids for forgetting, I'll just be thankful I"m not in school being policed or I'd be in trouble hourly!

The problem I had with the detention is that it was at 7:30AM. AM. Before school. Before my morning is complete. Before I pick up all the neighborhood kids for carpool.

Wait ....Mom is not headed for detention....why do I have to stress to rearange five other kids and my morning because one son has detention?

I was on a complaining rolling rant last night, "No...how is early morning detention going to prove anything? It's just creating stess! Havoic! I"m calling the school! He can suffer a punishment during recess or lunch! Not screw with my morning!"

The husband suddenly stopped me and said, "Hey, this is good for him. Getting up a little earlier. It's no problem fo rme. I'll stay home from work and get him to school by 7:30am."

"Oh....okay." Ranting over. Problem solved.

This morning, my son woke up early, while the husband chose to sleep in an extra 10 minutes. My son came down at 6:50am and together we packed up his bag, got his 'due-today' science project ready by the door and even made his favorite egg breakfast!

At 7:15am, my son and I were both were milling about waiting for my husband, now in the shower to come down and take my son to school. At 7:20 totally ready to walk out the door, my son was still eating slowly knowing full well that my husband still had to pack up his work computer and make his own breakfast before they could leave the house.

Then, like a California tornado (that doesn't exist, but if it did, it would sound similiar to the noise coming from my own home this morning) the husband began yelling at my son that if my son woke up earlier they wouldn't be late.

The husband then spouted off a few more comments that included, "I'm not taking you to school today! You need to call your teacher and tell her why you didn't make it to detention!"

To say my 12 year old was devistated doesn't even touch the emotions I played witness to coming out of my child.

But now, 'Mom' was back on the hook to call school and explain now (after the fact) why my child wasn't at detention.

Going back to my original point: Detention shouldn't inconvenience the parent, but the child that receives it. It should teach a lesson, so a child learns from it, so he won't do it again.

Sadly all my son learned was: Don't ask Dad to take you to school...ever.

I'm sure in a few hours the husband will realize he was the cause of this morning's events and maybe even appologize to me or even agree with me that any detention causing parents stress or worry aren't doing anyone any good.

But that would be admitting Mom was right. And for Dad, oh boy, that's so hard to do.

Swearing in Church

Limping into church on crutches to see my son's preschool performance, I tripped and quietly said, "Oh shit..."  My mom behind me was not happy, "God damn it, Laurie! Stop swearing!  We're in church for fuck sake!"

"Something is Wrong with Grandma..."

From the moment I hear that the in-laws will be visiting CA from Philly, my shoulders lurch up in physical defense. Then when they arrive, my big smile doesn't hide that I am in full battle mode....able to morph into Queen Warrior in mere seconds. Okay, my in-laws aren’t that bad, it's just the MIL is very negative toward me and tells me what I'm doing wrong...constantly.

This year I was ready. But this year Grandma was different. Instead of yelling at me that I relocated her coffee cup without telling her, she giggled and asked me how to use the Keurig coffee maker. Not once, not twice, but every morning, for a week.....she would ask the same thing:

1) “Three years ago I used this coffee maker thing...can you show me how to use it again?”

2) “Can I heat up my coffee in your microwave?” (She'd ask me this every 5-8 minutes) (She heated up her coffee so many times she didn't even need to drink it; it evaporated.)

Something is wrong with Grandma.

One day, hunched over the bottom double oven she grasped at the handle, "Do you mind if I heat up my coffee?"

"Um...the microwave is over here..." I answered quickly coming to her rescue.

One day she dropped her coffee, another day she dropped the milk. Both times she blamed others or shook her head in disgust that life wasn't fair.

One day I made her coffee, dragged her to a chair and suggested, "You know, if you drink all your coffee in the next five minutes, it won't get cold, and you won't need to reheat it." She looked up at me like a child happy someone was finally coming to her aide.

"Okay..." She said as she smiled.

Then one day my mother-in-law walked up to my husband, her son, and asked, “And where do you live, sweetie?”

My oldest son, Ty, eleven and sometimes more innocently funny that me, added his raw commentary, “Houston, we have a problem.”

Being away from home may have increased the stress bringing on whatever dementia my MIL was already going through. Alzheimer’s or something else….it really didn't matter. All that did matter was that Grandma would never been the same.

Not that this is a bad thing. For me. For the first time in….well…since I’ve known her…she has actually been nice to me. Complimenting me. Thanking me for being in her son’s life. This was the first time I can actually say, I like her.

I’m not going to share this with family that is devastated Grandma is losing her mind…but as I watch the bitter sad sometimes mean woman fall into a new kind of normal....I welcome the upside.

"Halloween Mess Caused By Daddy..."

…Dear Children,


When your future spouse asks you to dress a five year old in a specific outfit, remind them to not get creative and do anything 'outside' what you have asked. Cause they just may spray paint that kid's head with black hairspray and forget to tell you....meaning that the child spends the morning rolling all over so many cushions causing huge 'head shaped' black spots to appear in so many spots, you'll just assume it's some kind of joke. Later discovering that 'No... your parent (i.e...'creative' spouse) didn't put down a blanket or towel or even inform the child that he should be careful, instead, he let him free....free to be five and roll, land or head butt cushions with a staining painted head.

Please remind your spouse if such a disaster ever happens (and let's assume it's won't) but if it does, please remind your spouse they have the absolute freedom NOT tell you and fix the problem themselves! Cause if they do nothing and leave their creation remnants at the front door in a huge pile telling you, "You need to clean this up..." Let them know you will not be happy. For days. Weeks maybe.

"Best Travel Advice for Cheap Restaurants!"

When you know you are going to be traveling to another city for awhile...sign up to get Groupons for that city 2 to 4 months prior!  Then watch the expiration dates and look for things you'll want to see, do and eat!  Brilliant idea from someone I met today!!!

"Best Solution to Driving and Texting"

Best solution to driving and texting....hire a kid.  I've got one that sits in the front seat.  When I get a text, he reads it to me and then responds for me as I tell him what to type back.  Best part?  He gets to practice his 'real word' spelling and properly listening to a woman's voice telling him what to do in detail. 

What man couldn't have benefitted from that early training skill?!

The CEO of the House...by Laurie McDermott: "The Pain of a Thank You Note"

The CEO of the House...by Laurie McDermott: "The Pain of a Thank You Note": "I sent her a gift. She sent me a thank you. The thank you was so awesome I felt compelled to send her a thank you for the thank you... Whic..."

"The Pain of a Thank You Note"

I sent her a gift. 

She sent me a thank you.

The thank you was so awesome I felt compelled to send her a thank you for the thank you...

Which she responded with a thank you for the thank you for the thank you. 

I then called her to tell her to knock it off.

Efficient....

I spent the morning at Coffee Bean doing what I hate....calling on bills where mistakes have been made: late charge, insurance didn't pay properly and Verizon added some weird fee.  Even if it's $2.00, if it's not suposed to be there, I will call and make sure it's off my bill.

My husband (the guy who never looked at his bills before he met me, spending hundreds if not thousands of dollars for things he didn't buy) keeps telling me, "Okay....but don't you think you are wasting your time?"

Umm...No.  Today after calling six places and 'winning' on all of them where mistakes were fixed and charges were returned to me, this man gets up to leave Coffee Bean.  As he passes me he says, "Wow!  I need someone like you working for me!" 

Lost in my own world I looked up confused. 

He laughed and said, "I've been listening to you on the phone....you're good.  I need my managers to be more like you!"

Ha.  I didn't know him but it was nice that someone actually noticed that yeah, I was doing the right thing.  And keeping these companies in line on their 'charges.'

Have you looked at your bills lately?  All of them?  Open your eyes, read the charges and don't believe everything on your bill.  You may be surprised at what you've been paying for over the years that you didn't even know about!  And if you find something, be brave.  Pick up the phone, ask about it or stop it.  

Never be embarrassed to want to know what charges are.  Cause the 'takers' know people believe more than they doubt.  It's your bill.  It's your money.  Keep it.

College for Who....?

My neighbor's daughter got into Stanford. 

I was so happy for them and said, "My kids will never get in there...unless they play on getting a scholarship for ping-pong."

My neighbor Maura laughed and told me something I thought was so cool I had to share, "Laurie, your kids could to Stanford and do nothing...or the could go to a community college and do everything!"

She's right. 

Forget pushing the ping-pong idea.

Raising Chickens...?

Sick of paying outrageous prices for organic eggs, my farm raised Uncle, in the middle of Chicago Suburbia, built a chicken coop and sent away for chicken eggs.

The eggs arrived morphing into chickens until a year later...pop! The first egg. Sadly some of the chickens were eaten by various rodents that broke into the chicken pen till my Uncle had the coop reinforced.

Visiting Chicago with my "can’t-we-get-chickens" kids this week, they were excited to see the birds and graciously offered to care for the chickens when my uncle left town for a week. Our job was easy: Fill the bowls with feed, water, then go collect the eggs. It was like being on a farm…only the farm was a 8 x 20 foot shed.

The first day was scary, the chickens didn't know us and we didn't know them. The second day was scarier, the chickens almost seemed to be trying to attack us. The third day my kids convinced me they could do this job on their own and returned sweaty and panicked: “The chickens are out! They are attacking!”

I ran to my uncles house with a broom and a red towel (bulls follow it, why not chickens?). Then with my kids screaming in the background, I got all the chickens back in the pen. Catching my breath I realized the upturned empty bowls for their water and feed were deep in the pen. I had to go back in. With feed in my hands I ran to the bowls as the chickens charged me with their heads and bodies. Literally they would run on their ledges and launch themselves into the air and then me, sacrificing pain to get me out of their home.

Scratched but not bleeding I closed the pen and left with my shaking children. For the rest of the week, we threw feed in. They were chickens, they didn’t need a bowl! The water I put by the door and filled it with a heavily padded arm.

The question came up about getting chickens and my kids all paused, “What about a dog?”

I wasn’t ready for a dog, but at least the chicken idea is gone for good.

The Risiduals of Vacations...

For five days straight at Paws Up Resort, I had one (okay two) s’mores around a campfire each and every evening. (Just typing this makes my mouth water…whoops...sorry...let me wipe off that drool...)

Why did something so ordinary taste so dang good? I was obsessed with them. One night at camp, I almost pushed over two kids to get the last piece of chocolate. Maybe it was that Paws Up is so relaxing? Maybe it’s because at Paws Up camps, you get a butler...who helped me so much, I never had to even think about what to feed my child. (Hmm...what did she eat anyway?)

Obviously addicted, earlier tonight, I turned on my stove, found a marshmallow, saltine crackers and some M&M's....it wasn't Montana, it wasn’t a campfire, but the mere act made me happy.

BTW: If you try this at home, forks and flames don't mix. Flaming hot and screaming do.

The Wrong Words....

I often get in trouble to saying or assuming the wrong thing or words.  Not like the politicians lately....but I've been known to confuse what my kids have said to me, forgetting they are children and their "S word" is actually "Stupid."  I've put my foot into my mouth and have even upset some parents.  It's all good, but I couldn't help buckle over in laughter when I read the following story thankful I"m not the only one...

Tony was about 9 years old and staying with his grandmother for a few days. He'd been playing outside with the other kids, when he came into the house and asked, 'Grandma, what's that called when two people sleep in the same bedroom and one is on top of the other?'

Grandma was a little taken aback, but she decided to tell him the truth as she always did, 'Well, dear, it's called sexual intercourse.’

‘Oh,’ Tony said and he went back outside to play with the other kids. A few minutes later he came back in and said angrily, 'Grandma, it's NOT called sexual intercourse. It's called Bunk Beds. And Jimmy's Mom wants to talk to you.'

A Moms Love...

I've had a staph infection on my thigh for almost six weeks. At first it was annoying, then it was painful, and then I couldn't walk....

What was inconvenient for my kids, soon became inconvenient for my husband.

After two weeks, I was desperate and called the only person I knew could help. Superman? Um...close. I called my mom.

Within a day of my call, she flew 3,000 miles to come to my rescue and save my world. She took the kids were they needed to go, she cooked, she cleaned, she fed my family, but most importantly, she gave me the love (I so needed) that only moms know how to give.

Beyond comforted, I knew my mom, with unconditional love and my best interest in mind, was here to help and I could relax and heal. And while it took a long time to get better, I couldn't help think about what I'd have done if my mom wasn't alive anymore.

I guess I'd suck it up? Be brave? Hire help? It was a mushy, teary night of reality as I thought about dear friends who have already lost their mom, even calling two of them to say, barely audible, that if they ever got sick, or needed me, I'd be there for them. Of course, I could never be their mom, but I could do my best to make them feel loved.

Make a note of those buddies you have who may not have their mom. If the time ever comes, make them joyful that at least they have YOU.

Costco with Two Monsters

Recently I went to Costco with my youngest and his buddy with the promise, ‘I need two things.  If we’re out in ten minutes, we’ll go to McDonalds for ice cream.”  Sounded good, right?

I should have taken bets…I’d have made serious cash. The boys ran, hid and even disappeared behind boxes and shelves I didn’t even notice were there. Every time I asked them to walk with me, stop touching products or stop staring at strangers, they either laughed or ignored me running the other way. I wanted to strangle my child but knew that would scare his friend into never coming over again (not like that’s a bad thing). In the end I asked a big guy employee with a walkie-talkie to pretend to arrest the kids.

He laughed and walked up to the children still hiding behind a box and in a deep authoritative voice said, “Stay with mom or I’ll have to arrest you and take you to jail!”

The boys immediately ran over to me. The friend didn’t leave my side, asking questions like, “What does arrested mean? Where is jail? What is jail like?”

Great…I can see the conversation at his house over dinner…. ”Well son, what did you learn today?”

I answered the boys' questions and reminded him he could come over any time but we’d have to wait they both boys learned to listen.

It’s now been three weeks…........still haven’t heard from his mom.  (not like that's a bad thing either.)

It's JUST Flag Football People!

Rarely do I repeat other's words (cause no one’s funnier) but today, I laughed so hard I almost peed.

My oldest plays flag football. Clueless on the game, I just love watching my son run around. It's fun, but the parents around me are insane. It's a problem in all sports, but what do you do? Me? Laugh at the goofy parents.

Well today, an email came down to all players from the City that runs the program and I had to share. Because anyone who's ever played sports or had a child play sports, is going to either laugh or cry.

In the subject; "It's Just Flag Football People!"
The letter starts off....


So this weekend -

1. One Coach challenges another Coach to fight, and calls a Mom a (female dog).

2. One Coach walks on to the field during the game, curses at Refs, gets thrown out of game and refuses to leave the field.

3. One D4 kid (allegedly) repeatedly grabs kids by the neck.

4. One D2 kid (allegedly) throws a punch.

5. A bunch of D3 parents start screaming at every play or call against them, so much that the other team parents have to move.

6. An anonymous parent sends a nasty email to a D2 Coach insinuating the coach purposely "broke a kid's spirit and shattered his confidence" - when the other coach had no issues.

People - this is youth sports - not life or death! The league will react swiftly to this kind of behavior, and we can tell you Coaches will be suspended for life, and kids will be removed from the league for their actions.

We don't have the time, staff or quite frankly, the interest, in reviewing every piece of tape to see that specific "bad/missed" call! And it doesn't matter - you still need to act as a role model and not a raving lunatic.

Please people - check yourself. When 6 year-olds are looking at you like you're crazy... you are.

-The XXX City Board


YES! And depending on your level of parental sportsmanship, you may or may not be laughing but at this point, but all I can say is “AMEN!”

Pregnant Again?

A few hours ago I thought I was pregnant with my fourth child.  My life is crazy, I don't want any more kids..  And I don't believe in abortion.............but suicide.....!

When Mommy is Sick

I'm on crutches, standing in the doorway talking to my dear friend, Gloria, when my six year old walks up to me with her swimming towel and says, "Mommy, can you hold this?"  followed quickly by, "I'm hungry!  can you get me something to eat?"

I looked down at the girl people have called, my "mini-me" and wondered why she didn't notice my hands were already full, holding handles that allow me to carry my body on two silver sticks. 

For almost 2 weeks I fought this weird infection on my leg.  Staph infection they determined.  Big.  Red.  Nasty. What comes along with Mr. Staff Nasty is fever and pain.  Nice, huh?  I, the mom that never gets sick, was ordered by a couple of doctors to SIT and let others do things for me so the swelling will go down!  Ha!  "Others?"  Did they think I lived in a group home?  I wanted to laugh!  Actually, I think I did.

That first week I was up and down, on and off the couch, giving directions, helping kids, helping my husband...to find things, fix things, make things.  As I'm limping in pain over to 'help' my daughter find the tape, she stands starring at me as if she's angry that I'm taking too long. 

The swelling and pain grew so much that one doctor threatened to admit me to the hospital.  YEAH!  But I knew I had one other (better) option.  

The next day, I called the one person that could help me.....my savior, my hero....my superman.  Superwoman.  I called my Mom.  She understood.  She'd had a husband (he died) and she'd been sick.  She knew exactly how I felt and what I needed!

Even the very thought of calling her caused me to burst into tears.  I could barely speak to make my desperate plea, "Mom, I need you...."   And that was it.  My mom was at my side as soon as she could get a flight.

Since then, things have calmed; my kids are happy, my husband is happy (but still can't find things in his own home, but he's happy), and I'm happy.  No.  I'm blessed.  I've been able to do as the doctors said and do it with love and support all around me.  (which some say, makes healing happen even faster!)

I know Mother's Day is long gone, but your mom, if living, isn't.  Thank her often.

The Puppy-Sitter

It was early morning on Mother's Day and my sister-in-law, Amy, was doing a good deed. Babysitting the neighbor's 6-week old Golden Retriever, in his cage for the night, till my young niece and nephews took him out to play....

"MOM!"

Amy ran to the frightened scream to see the tail end of her black thong panties being swallowed by the tiny puppy, "Nooo!"

In an instant, the panties were gone inside the barrel of the dogs' tummy. The family knew they had to get the dog to the vet or risk having to tell their newly divorced neighbor, who purchased the puppy to ease stress on her kids, that puppy was heaven-bound.

Amy grabbed the dog and ran to her car. It wouldn't start!

(This was when, rude as it may seem, I started to laugh.)

It wasn't even 10am on Mother's Day and poor Amy was battling fires she didn't even cause.

(I continued to muffle my laugh as she continued her story...)

Her husband yelled and protested as Amy then climbed into his immaculate, no-dogs-or-children-allowed-car, to transport the underwear infested puppy to the Vet.

Thankfully, the undies were still in the dog's tummy and inducing vomit produced the underwear, his Dorito breakfast and a $385 fee for their trouble.

Days later Amy wondered out loud if she should have let the dog try and digesting the thong, but is still happy she did what she did.

As am I...as I love stories like that!

But if they ever watch another dog again, it will not be on Mother's Day and will not be left unattended with children And her dirty clothes...they will forever make it into the hamper...with a new lid.