tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78824113387338857672024-03-13T13:54:23.058-07:00Rock Me MomadeusMommy by day, rock star by night.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-73609055930736189602014-03-13T10:41:00.002-07:002014-03-13T10:41:56.150-07:00I suck at blogsSeriously. Practically zero commitment here. Congrats on 25 years, internet. I suck at you.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-77534890225528245012013-08-27T06:33:00.002-07:002013-08-27T06:33:53.494-07:00Abraham, Morgan, and MomThanks to last night's adventures, Morgan is now officially worth one penny. Because that's what's in her tummy. But let me back up. . . <br /><br />I gave the kids their toothbrushes, then headed downstairs to let the crazy dancing dog out to pee. When I got back inside, the kids were downstairs, and Morgan was complaining that Max put <i>her</i> penny in <i>his</i> mouth. I told him to spit it out, and that we only put food in our mouths. We went upstairs to find Chad cleaning up a giant water mess that Max had created in the bathroom (in about 20 seconds of unsupervised time). I finished cleaning it, while listening to Morgan whining in her room. Suddenly, her whining changed to panic, and she came into the bathroom. I said, "What. . . did you put that in your mouth? Did you swallow it?". She was crying, and looked so ashamed. I kicked the wet towels out of the way, sat her on the toilet, and asked where the penny was. She pointed to her stomach. At least it wasn't caught in her throat. I moved everyone into the living room. Morgan played with her Leapster while I researched pennies (she will poop it out, and she is not happy about it); then I wrestled Max into jammies. I got him safely into bed, and then did story time with Morgan. Once her bedroom door was closed, I plopped onto the couch with a Mike's Hard Cranberry Lemonade, and episode 5 of The Walking Dead, and called it a day. <br /><br />That was the most hectic 30 minutes of my life.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-60145821433489575172012-06-27T11:48:00.002-07:002012-06-27T12:07:36.555-07:00Name that Band!Chlamydia Koala<br />and their #1 hit, "Shot in the Ass"<br />B side: "You Can Love Me, You Can Leave Me, Eucalyptus"<br /><br />With thanks to my fly pals, and their knowledge of STDs carried by cuddly animals.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-34388044304947413452012-06-21T08:39:00.001-07:002012-06-21T08:43:17.510-07:00Another Good Band NamePants Optional.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-29385249611279222202012-06-04T06:46:00.002-07:002012-06-04T06:57:36.994-07:00That Would Be a Good Name for a BandMaximum Cheese<br /><br />You're welcome, garage band. I will accept a band t-shirt as payment.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-83184619837999093152012-04-24T09:55:00.000-07:002012-04-24T09:58:01.335-07:00Extreme Fashion Savings!I just spent $20.31 on myself. I can hear you saying, "But Jen, you never spend money on yourself! What can you possibly have purchased?". BEHOLD! <br />
<br />
Taupe Tencel Linen Cargo Pant 1.88 <br />
Black Tencel Linen Cargo Pant 1.88 <br />
Key Ring Sweater 1.56 <br />
Cute Buckle Sweater 1.56 <br />
Charisma Colorblock Cardigan 3.13 <br />
Out And About Tee 1.25 <br />
Spring Breeze Linen Blouse 1.88 <br />
A Sweet Delight Plaid Capri 1.56 <br />
In-the-bag Tencel-blend Shorts 1.88 <br />
In-the-bag Tencel-blend Shorts 1.88 <br />
New Destinations Wide Leg Pant 1.85 <br />
Subtotal $20.31 <br />
Shipping & Handling $0.00 <br />
Total $20.31 <br />
BOOM! <br />
<br />
Some company called Monterey Bay is having a major clearance sale. 75% off on top of clearance prices, plus free shipping. Did I order fuschia and orange capris that are totally out of character for me? Heck yes--they were $1.88! I totalled up the pre-discount total on that order: $689.89. Aw crud, now I'm compelled to get the total savings. Hang on while I do math. . . 97%! Wow, I'm like those extreme coupon ladies.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-16687500457398296012010-01-19T09:33:00.001-08:002010-01-19T09:36:32.503-08:00What was going on in my head?So back in high school, I had myself convinced that if I could just ride a unicycle, I would be cool. Clearly, I was never destined for coolness.<br /><br />I never did get a unicycle.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-66483233354468828262010-01-02T17:42:00.000-08:002010-01-02T17:59:02.605-08:00Four eyes, zero datesSo. . . we've hit a bit of a dry spell on the gigs. I'm going to switch gears here, and post about the awkward things I did while growing up. Random memories keep popping up lately--maybe my brain is hoping my daughter will avoid doing these things. Or maybe I'm just overtired.<br /><br />When I was 16, I got glasses. And braces. And I had the world's worst bangs. They wouldn't do that giant <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">poufy</span> thing that all the popular girls did with their bangs (and now, looking back at the pictures, I am grateful for that). They were just a giant, dark mat. So to go with all this awesomeness, I decided that I needed Becca Thatcher glasses. Remember her, from Life Goes On? With <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Corky</span>? And while we're at it, remember that show with Wilford <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Brimley</span> and Deidre Hall, and that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">blonde</span> boy who I totally had a crush on, but later learned was gay (as were most of my early crushes--I'm looking at you, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Doogie</span>). <br /><br />So I got giant, burgundy framed glasses, to be like Becca. And then I met Chad Lowe, and we fell in love, but he turned out to be HIV positive, and I didn't care, and we got married, and then he died. OR, I got my Becca glasses, and then didn't date ANYONE for four years. <br /><br />So very awkward.<br /><br />Next time, I'll tell you about Teenage Jen's belief that unicycle riding = popularity.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-48646973266402284102009-08-14T13:30:00.000-07:002009-08-14T13:35:34.235-07:00Giggity giggityWe have a gig tonight. Today, I got up at 6am with the baby, nursed her, gave her cereal, made myself breakfast, played with the baby, got her down for a nap, did two loads of laundry, nursed the baby again, cereal again, got frozen pizzas and pop at the store for the sitter, helped my husband jump-start the SUV when the battery died, took a shower, did my hair, and now I'm waiting for the sitter, while the baby takes her 2nd nap. I am so NOT focused on performing. It's funny, though--as soon as I get to the gig, I'll be in rock mode. And as soon as we finish our last song, I'll immediately be thinking about getting home to the baby. <br /><br />Right now, I need a nap.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-46098541222002733722009-07-27T18:24:00.000-07:002009-07-27T18:31:29.599-07:00Baby's First GigMiss Morgan went to her first gig this past weekend. It was outdoors, and our bass player's girlfriend took her for a walk in the stroller. They sat across the street from us for awhile, so Morgan got to hear us from a distance. Let me tell you, it was so hard to stay onstage--I wanted to go smooch my baby! <br /><br />I'm still feeling sleep-deprived from the gig. Morgan's sleep schedule was normal, but mine was not. Staying up until 1am, and then getting up at 6 with the baby wiped me out. It is now 8:30pm, and I'm thinking about calling it a day.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-74534848534308131382009-07-15T08:16:00.001-07:002009-07-15T08:25:53.408-07:00I'm with the band<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6pWDA53QdE/Sl30M-fYcJI/AAAAAAAAABQ/BKRoXeViJSM/s1600-h/Baby6.bmp"></a><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358707525952408594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 237px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6pWDA53QdE/Sl30GmubDBI/AAAAAAAAABI/BdSzUvQQyzA/s320/Baby10.bmp" border="0" />Mannnnnnnnn. . . it's been awhile since my last post. Turns out babies keep you busy. And I like naps.</div><div><br /> </div><div>So we have a gig in a couple weeks up near Duluth. It's a two day deal. What will we do with the baby, you ask? That's a very good question. I'm thinking she'd make an excellent tambourine player. Or maybe we'll just see if Grandma wants an overnight visit. But seriously, if I didn't think it was going to be too loud for her, I'd just throw on a Baby Bjorn, and bring her onstage with me. As you can see from the ultrasound, she had a predisposition to rock, even in utero. The ultrasound tech said she was signing "I love you". I burst into joyous tears, and said, "No. . . we're in a band!".</div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div>jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-88967372916870636522009-06-10T07:35:00.000-07:002009-06-10T07:45:16.624-07:00Dr. FeelgoodI've been watching A Baby Story on TLC, and I've noticed a trend. Many of the women on that show kiss their doctors on the cheek--BEFORE the epidural. And the doctors kiss them back! What? Is this a common practice in other areas of the country? Are we Midwesterners out of the kissy-kissy loop? Personally, I save my kisses for my great aunties and my husband, and not for the guy checking my cervix. Well, sometimes my husband checks my cervix. . . heh. ANYWAY, I want to know if other people are kissing hello. "Hello, Mailman Pete! Thanks for not bringing me any bills!". Smooch. "Greetings, Butcher Nadine! Awesome pork chops!". Mwah. "Hi there, Doctor Zbornak! I lost my mucous plug!". Kissy kissy. Really?jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-7072485594379955442009-06-07T21:02:00.000-07:002009-06-07T21:12:26.803-07:00Everybody's Working for the Weekend. . . except meSo I lost my job in January, four weeks before the baby was born. Let me tell you, looking for employment while 9 months pregnant is difficult. Looking for employment with an infant in tow is damn near impossible. I know you're supposed to sleep when the baby sleeps, but that's when I send out resumes. Here it is, 11pm, and I'm looking for work.<br /><br />I've been doing most of my job searching online. I am so sick of the fake ads that reroute you to a temp agency's website. And the companies offering $8/hr for administrative assistants. Come on. And the job postings riddled with spelling errors. If you can't spell "receptionist", then I'm pretty sure you're actually porn.<br /><br />On the upside, we have a gig this Friday. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Yay</span>. And I already have a sitter. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">YAY</span>!jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-27064575728542746072009-06-01T19:45:00.000-07:002009-06-01T19:47:44.071-07:00Rock 'n RollThe baby rolled over for the first time! I was so excited. Then I realized this leads to crawling, then walking, then asking to borrow the car, then moving to another state. It's a slippery slope, and it begins with one roll. Sigh.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-48379649242722456792009-05-27T22:06:00.000-07:002009-05-27T22:11:30.379-07:00Siskel and MombertMy husband, Chad, and I have devised our own ratings system for new movies. It goes like this:<br /><ul><li>Would pay <strong>full price</strong> to see the movie</li><li>Would pay <strong>matinee</strong> price</li><li>Would pay <strong>$1 </strong>at Redbox</li><li>Would only watch the movie if stuck on the couch with the <strong>flu</strong>, and unable to reach the remote</li></ul><p>For instance, after seeing the previews for the upcoming <em>Land of the Lost</em>, I declared that I would pay $1 to see it. Chad replied with, "Flu". Sorry, Will Ferrell.</p>jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-77002060535713643612009-05-17T20:10:00.001-07:002009-05-17T20:16:30.747-07:00Brownies and BridezillasThe baby and I had the house to ourselves this past weekend. My husband was hired to run sound for four bands in South Dakota. While he was off doing that, she and I watched chick flicks, and baked brownies. Well, I watched chick flicks, and baked brownies. She nursed, played on her mat, and slept. It was a big weekend for all.<br /><br />You know what show is totally addictive? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Bridezillas</span>. I get sucked into the drama of it all. My husband has been the wedding <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">dj</span> for countless brides, and we have yet to run into a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">bridezilla</span>. An <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">auntzilla</span>, yes. A racist-father-in-law-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">zilla</span>, sure. But no <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">bridezillas</span>. Maybe someday. That could make for some good blogging.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-46435414433180964852009-05-12T12:25:00.000-07:002009-05-12T12:28:47.547-07:00Jingle all the wayA plumbing and heating company placed an ad on Craigslist, looking for a jingle. I figured I'd give it a shot, and just sent a little ditty to them in an e-mail. How does one break into the jingle business, I wonder? I would enjoy being a Charlie Harper. I mean writing jingles, and wearing cool shirts--not the promiscuity, and crazy stalker neighbor.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-68624113913175996672009-05-11T12:37:00.000-07:002009-05-11T12:39:03.511-07:00You know what would be a good band name?Quantum Burrito.<br /><br />I thought up that one during a 3am feeding.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-19490452560953047122009-05-10T20:21:00.000-07:002009-05-17T20:10:10.924-07:00Happy Mother's Day!Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there! We had a lovely one here. My darling husband (who is also in the band, by the way) took the baby and me on a paddleboat cruise of the Mississippi River, and then out for dinner. And the baby was an absolute angel the entire time. She was perfectly happy to look at the river, and to charm the people on the boat. It was a wonderful first Mother's Day. And now she is asleep, her daddy is at a Testament concert, and I'm going to end my day in a bubble bath with chocolate.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-48373883156327251412009-05-09T14:17:00.000-07:002009-05-09T14:28:53.058-07:00The glamorous rockstar lifeSo yesterday, I'm getting ready for our gig. This used to entail picking out an outfit, doing my hair and makeup, and making sure I had a set list. With the wee one, it now involves doing a load of laundry, running the dishwasher, cleaning the house for the sitter, feeding the baby, prepping bottles for the evening, changing the baby, dressing myself, changing myself after discovering spit-up down my back, changing the baby after diaper blow-out, hair, makeup, and set list. Then off to the show, where my boobs steadily turn rock hard and painful. Back home afterward, where my sweet baby is asleep, and I immediately attach myself to the breast pump for some relief. Then I fall into bed, only to be woken by the hungry lass a couple hours later. It's like I'm a singing vending machine. You want milk? I got it. You want the backup vocals for "Highway to Hell"? Can do.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-5526512510288434382009-05-07T20:43:00.000-07:002009-05-07T20:51:12.423-07:00Test one, test twoThis thing is on! The internet works! A very sweet friend read of my plight, and offered to watch the baby! <br /><br />Ok, now I'm looking for more moms to hop on board, and share their thoughts on balancing baby and band. Do other people take their baby to band practice, or is that just me? What about pumping during a gig? Does "Sweet Child of Mine" make you long to be back at home?jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-5147108477278126342009-05-07T13:38:00.000-07:002009-05-07T13:49:35.243-07:00Badass MotherOk, we are 30 hours away from the gig, and still no luck. I've tried friends, kids of friends, family, and neighbors. I'm pretty sure the bar would frown on me bringing the baby in there (maybe with a fake id?), so I need to find a sitter stat!<br /><br />I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Jen, you look smokin' hot in that picture. Were you four months pregnant at the time?". You're sweet. And yes, I was. If you look closely, you'll note that the jeans do not zip up all the way. I was on the cusp of maternity wear at the time. And let me just say, if this blog explodes with popularity (and why wouldn't it?), I'd like to include info on where to find stage-worthy maternity clothes. I was reduced to wearing maternity jeans, t-shirts, and a hoodie from Hot Topic to our gigs. It was ok, but not as badass as I'd have liked. Because I am one badass mother.jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7882411338733885767.post-21455207755687958912009-05-06T20:26:00.000-07:002009-05-06T20:54:55.059-07:00Because she lacks the motor skills to be a roadie<div>As a mom who is in a rock band, I am facing a unique challenge: to find a sitter I trust with my 3 month old, and who is cool with staying at my house until 3:00 in the morning. There have to be other rockin moms out there with the same dilemma. I propose that we seek each other out, share ideas about balancing childcare and gigs, and maybe even recommend good sitters around the Twin Cities. Or beyond. Hell, this is the internet, after all. I hear it's getting to be quite popular.</div>jenjellybeanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361678115712991655noreply@blogger.com0