My big boy

Four years. I can’t believe it. How did he go from this:

To this:


I really find it all amazing. He’s articulate, he knows all his letters, can sight read some words, likes to play math, and is ALL MINE. I love him so much…he should never know just how much I love him.

But do you know what? I’m starting to think that this birthday thing is bogus. Why are we celebrating him? What has he done that is so remarkable? Why aren’t we celebrating us, the parents? I mean for the first 3 years we kept him alive…that deserves some sort of presidential commendation of some sort…or at least our own wing at the ER. And for the past year…well, we haven’t killed him…again deserving some sort of award I am sure.

So tonight, as we opened up his presents, it wasn’t him that we were really toasting. It was us. Here’s to us…4 years in and we are stronger, sometimes meaner and sometimes nicer, more lenient and yet also stricter, more forgiving, equipped with a better sense of humor, and better parents than we thought we would be. We toasted with our “survival martinis” and hope to be drinking them every June 5 for the rest of our lives.

Happy birthday big boy. We love you.

Hypocrisy

OK...rewind about 10 weeks when my mother innocently enough said, "little girl, these thighs are going to give you some problems when you get older."

I can't even begin to explain how I over-reacted. Steam poured out my ears, face turned bright red and I almost cried right there thinking about my little girl and all the body image delusions she is going to have to deal with. It just isn't fair.

A week or so later I still had not recovered and I told my mom that I really didn't like the comments about her thighs or any other body part because I just worried so much about all that girls have to struggle with regarding their appearance and then I asked her not to comment on her weight or anything else.

You know what my mom said? "I didn't with you did I?" Uhhh...touche. She didn't. She never once said a word about my too tight pants, my desire to wear things that only "skinny girls" should wear, or my ability to polish off a dozen cookies in one sitting. In 7th grade she even took me to my weekly weight watcher meetings and cooked special food for me the entire time. She didn't comment, she supported.

So how ironic that I accuse her of judging...when I think it is deep down me that is commenting, judging, obsessing. I can't get these thighs out of my mind.

Now before you comment that she'll grow out of them, it's just baby fat, etc. I know that. But I also know what she is genetically stacked up against and I just want to enjoy the time when I can squeeze those thighs, love every roll in them, and post them on my blog for everyone to see.

In the future, I vow not to comment, but for now, I just can't resist.

So predictable

I have been waiting for this weekend since 2004. When last year they announced that the movie was going to come out this summer, I immediately called my sister and made her promise to go with me (no way in H-E-double hockey sticks that my husband would be seeing this one!) Turns out I didn't have to beg her to come with me because half the female population of DC was at the theater staging a sit in for their seats so far in advance I couldn't even get a drink before the show. Damn.

After the 45 minutes of trailers where my sister can accurately tell you who everyone is and what movie/show/broadway play they are from (it is an AMAZING talent of hers, one that surely is untapped!) the movie started. And so did the tears.

I'm a loser, I admit it. But I cried quietly in my seat thinking about how I was reuniting with some of my longest, dearest, and most predictable friends (every Sunday...I could count on them!). I was not, however, hooting screaming, whistling, and swirling my pink feathered boa in the air like some other patrons of the theater. (they must have gotten there in time for the pre-theater drinks...damn again)

The movie, well, it was pure magic. I mean if pure magic is fantastic clothes, great one liners, more fantastic clothes, and a brief glimpse of full frontal MALE you know what. (I missed it...how could I?...must have been wiping my eyes with my feather boa!)

Yes, for what it is worth, the movie was predictable...but you know what? So am I.

We're back!

I feel like we have been gone from our house for a full month. Maybe that is what 18 hours in the car with your two young children does to you.

We've gone 280 miles South to the wonderful Outer Banks, where I think I used the phrase, "when we used to live in North Carolina" once every 15 minutes. (I didn't know that I missed it that much until I went back!)

Then we drove 280 miles North to the Jersey Shore. We got to ride a ferry that served beer...but it didn't make the trip less than 8 hours.

And then we came home.

But seriously...all that driving was worth every minute of it. Good weather, good friends. MANY good drinks, and great memories. I've attached a slideshow that only touches on what we did this week.

I'd do it all over again...but you're not getting me in the car for a long time any time soon!

I've been duped

Today my budding genius of a 3...going on 4...year old boy told me that after nap he wanted to go to the Space Museum. That would be the Air and Space Museum right near our house. Just like Renee Zellweger in Jerry McGuire, he had me at museum.

No worries that this was the first sunny day in 10. No worries that I had barely showered (it was interrupted by the preschool calling saying that I forgot to pick up my son...nooo...I simply didn't know there wasn't lunch bunch!) No worries that the little girl was cranky, hungry, and in no mood to go look at rockets, airplanes, and space shuttles...he had me at museum.

But what I thought was an intellectual journey to learn about the history of flight (in preparation for our trip to the Outer Banks next week) really turned out to be a journey to learn about the manipulation of Mommy. And Mommy was the one to learn, a lot.

As soon as we got into the car, talk from the back seat was all about a space grabber. I didn't exactly remember which exhibit he was talking about, but I was happy to encourage him. But soon enough, I realized that this exhibit was nothing more than a display in the gift shop. And the "space grabber" was nothing more than a very long, and rather expensive set of plastic tongs.

Still feeling the guilt from leaving him at school...I indulged him. Yes, you parenting critics out there. I bought him the darn thing. For one, I felt guilty, but also because I appreciated his forethought, his strategy, his outright manipulation. The score today: Little Boy: 1, Mommy: 0

And, I have to say, it was SO worth it. There must have been 100 thank yous, 100 I love yous, and 100 "if you do (fill in the blank) I'm going to take the space grabbers away" Never have we had a better trip to the museum.

Good thing the little girl can't talk because I am sure she would disagree.

This is why we have Mother's Day

Seriously...we celebrate Mother's Day because only a father would let his daughter put nearly half her body through the banister (and left her there while he got the camera to document the incident). Has he not read ANYTHING on the internet late at night when he couldn't sleep? Oh, that's right....he's never up late at night sleepless...that is why we celebrate the mother.

I'm not even going to mention the outfit he put her in!

Amen.

A series of events that made me cranky

Step One: Plant spring flowers in urns outside

Step Two: Awake the next morning to find all plants eaten...blame deer.

Step 3: find fury looking creature with petunia hanging out of his mouth. Guilty before proven innocent.

Step Four: Pay man in beat-up pick-up to "take care of the problem" a la Tony Soprano

Step Five: rejoice, no longer cranky.

It's not easy being green...part 2

Seriously...I blogged before about my AWESOME reuseable bags from Harris Teeter. I still LOVE them. But you know what I don't love? An idiot checker/bagger.

Now, remember, I used to be a bagger/checker. I even almost worked at the courtesy counter...so I can critique. OHHHH...I can critique.

So the other day we went to the store. I mean, really, do I not win an award for going grocery shopping with both kids, and empty stomach, and my 5 reuseable bags? I think I do. Digressing...I know.

As we are checking out, the nice bagger man is talking to the kids, making them laugh, and wrapping each item I bought in plastic bags and then putting them into my lovely green reuseable bags. Seriously...do you not get the message I am trying to send with the bags? I hate the plastic bags, I semi-want to save the earth, and I HATE THE PLASTIC BAGS. I just sort of stared at him wondering...why are you wrapping up my yogurts in plastic? What's wrong with the bag the lemons are already in? what the f%&k are you doing?

Unfortunately, I just stared and said nothing. Next time I will save the Earth AND be assertive. And for that, with 2 kids in tow, I certainly will deserve an award!

Is it Friday yet?

I haven't worked a real job in almost 4 years. Yikes...that is a long time when you actually write it out. And I haven't wanted it to be Friday more than today.

You see...for the past 4 years there has been no difference in my day to day life whether it is Monday, Wednesday, or Saturday. Yes, you'll say, my husband is home on the weekends. But he is also home some days during the week, so the extreme difference between a Tuesday morning and a Sunday morning does not exist. Take a vacation...not me...everywhere we go, I'm on a business trip. My job goes with me 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Ask me what day it is and I won't know, but I'll respond like a preschooler. "I hope it's a school day!"

And even though I haven't had a job in over 1200 days, I still remember very clearly what it is like to need a weekend. Get through Wednesday...you are more than halfway there...by Thursday afternoon you can already taste that Friday afternoon margarita...and get any work done at 3pm on Friday...you've got to be kidding me.

So in the past four years, I have never needed a weekend, a break in routine, a happy hour, an escape like I need this week. And you are going to be SO glad I'm telling you why.

It all started on Saturday night when I thought maybe, just maybe, I ate too much peanut butter cookie dough...but no, it wasn't my guiltY conscience making me sick it was that nasty old thing called the 24 hour flu. Puke and pass out, that is all I did on Sunday while my loving husband held down the fort. On Sunday night I went to bed thinking phew, the worst is over. HA!

I could go through all of the gory details, but suffice it to say that my illness was just the calm before the storm. Both little ones got the 24 hour flu that has since turned into the 72 or 96 hour bug. We're still illin' over here. And to put icing on the cake...today my husband came down with it too. This bug is kicking our ass! To summarize:

17 -loads of laundry done this week
7-times I have cried
6-plans that we have cancelled
4- times I have been puked on
3-times I have been pooped on (a student I took to Costa Rica once called it "pissing out your a-hole" He is SO right!)
2- times I have found my baby sleeping in vomit
0- times I have been to the gym

150- times I have screamed "IS IT FRIDAY YET????"

Soccer!

Add to my list of things we swore we wouldn't do...but did anyway. Soccer.

For the past 5 years we have rolled our eyes, commented with disgust and declared with all seriousness that we would not put our darling son into programmed sports until he was at least 5...6...7...13...the age changes with the degree of difficulty of eye roll.

But guess where we were on Saturday morning. Soccer.

Well, that is if you call packs of little 3 and 4 year olds chasing a soccer ball like an amoeba searching for algae. Not fast, not efficient, but eventually the job gets done.

And if I could, I would take all my eye rolls, snickering, and judgement back...it was TOO fun.

I don't think that I have a Pele or a Beckham on my hands...but we sure did have a good time.

The way-back freezer

When I was growing up we had a 2 refrigerators with freezers and a stand alone freezer in the house (yes...VERY environmentally friendly). I think they must have been stuffed with veggie lasagnas, frozen tomato sauce, and cases of grapefruit because I don't remember ever going into one of them for something to eat. In fact, I remember there never being ANYTHING to eat at my house.

Come over to our house and you'd get 2 choices...microwave popcorn or melba toast. Yeah, we weren't exactly top of the list for best after-school snacks.

But if I wrack my brain, I have vague memories of a 2nd stand alone freezer out in the storage shed. That shed was scary...Boo Radley wouldn't have wanted to be in there, but there was a freezer out there...and you know what...turns out that is where all the good food lived. All those boxes of chocolates my parents got as presents, left over cookies, even a chocolate orange...they were put out to pasture in the scary shed freezer.

I always thought that the food was put out there so my sister and I didn't eat it. But now, I think it may have been to keep anyone from eating it. You see, I now have 3 refrigerators. One in the house, and 2 in the garage...and a similar pattern has emerged. Healthy food that I should eat is inside the house, staples are in the first fridge in the garage, and anything worth a damn is in the 2nd fridge/freezer in the garage. If I don't want to eat it (read: I WANT to, just really shouldn't) I freeze it and put it in the 2nd freezer. Cookies don't last 5 minutes without being frozen and put in the frozen netherlands. Maybe that is what my mother was doing too. I mean...Joey on Friends did it with The Shining when things got too scary...and I do it with my downfall foods when they get too scary. (that is if you think that cookies, chocolates, banana bread and 2 cases of beer are scary!)

I heart Spring

Spring has finally arrived here. About freakin' time, I say. I mean, it is mid-April after all. No wonder I have been cranky these past few weeks, it has been freezing around here. My friends from the great state of NC all sent their Easter pictures rubbing it in with their kids running around in shorts, sundresses and the blooming flowers in the background. Adorable Easter picts, I have to admit. Here are our Easter pics...not a sundress or a flower to be seen for miles...just crying that our mittens were wet.

But this week, Spring finally arrived. And all of a sudden, I am in a good mood. I mean, what could make a mommy happier than a picture like this taken before school.

OK...the picture that I got later that day, after school, did make me smile more. You can't make this stuff up!

titled: Shark Eating a Swimming Donught

Embarassing story of the day

I pride myself on being able to contribute around the house. Sure I cook, clean, do laundry...shocker there...but I also can plunge toilets, hang pictures, reset the water heater, set up our internet telephone. I know, you are falling out of your seat you are so impressed by my well-rounded set of skills!

What I don't particpate in, though, are the audio/visual components of the house. Speaker wires, cables, suround sound...blah, blah, blah...I don't speak that language.

Rewind...did I mention that he we got a 62" tv?

In all of its new glory, it was drawn to our attention that the picture was crooked on our beautiful new tv. (we hadn't noticed because we were still staring at the wrinkles on Dick Enberg's face in HDTV) It wasn't so much crooked as it sort of sagged in the middle. I could give a plethora of analogies of how it sagged...but if you only imagine what I would look like running down the beach in a bikini...then you get the point.

So today the repair men arrived to fix our tv. As soon as I escort them into the family room, I turn back to the kitchen to find my little crawler/explorer extraordinaire. When I turn back again, the TV has had a tummy tuck and is back in business.

How did you do that so fast? I ask

We just took the speaker off the top of the TV. It was too heavy and it was causing the screen to bow yadah yadah yadah yadah... (I told you, I don't speak the language so if the problem is fixed, that is all I have to know)

hmmm. Thanks for coming?

How freaking embarassing. But I have to admit. Removing a heavy speaker is not as embarassing as when the electrician came out just to press the reset button in the bathroom.

It's not easy being green...or is it?

Back in the day, I was a grocery checker. And I was damn good at it too. I almost was promoted to work at the courtesy counter to sell cigarettes and condoms, but the offer came just as I had to go back to college (DAMN, I would have been extra-good at that job). I even belonged to the Grocery Workers Union of America (ok, not sure that is what it was really called, but regardless of their name, they took $5 from each paycheck!)

While not high paying, not particularly thought provoking, and honestly, not terribly good on my resume, the job still has many effects on me to this day. Every time I go to the store (a mere 3 or 4 times a week) I cringe having to watch the checkers try to figure out just what is the vegetable code for fava beans, or are they lima beans, or wait...are they soy beans? Crap! (I still remember that cucumbers are 4032) I refuse to leave my cart and "just run back for one more thing" UGHHH! And most cringe inducing for me is watching the checker try to organize your groceries in those awful plastic bags.

Paper or plastic? I would ask.

Can you do paper inside of plastic? followed by that punch in the smacker smirk

Suuure. I would respond....though screaming in my head...NOT ONE OF THE OPTIONS F*%K FACE.

So when I saw them offered at my good old Harris Teeter, I just knew I HAD to buy their reusable bags. For a mere $.99 a bag, you solve all packing issues for both you and your checker. The bag is sturdy, it has a flat bottom, and it holds a ton. I was so excited when I saw them, I bought 8, but I have never had to use more than 4 on any given trip. And, let's not forget the fact that I no longer have 55 million plastic bags shoved in the bottom of my pantry.

These bags are pure heaven.

So now, when I go to the store I become that condescending woman. You know, the one that smiles and says...you have it so easy...because seriously all you checkers out there...you do. And if you piss me off...I'm going to ask for paper in plastic. smile.

Please come home

So my husband has been out of town FOREVER. I mean seriously, when he left we joked that we would see each other again in April of '08...and you know what today is??? April 3, 2008. He needs to come home NOW...before I start drinking at 8am (it was acceptable in college, so why not now?), only serve my children Chic Fil A, put locks on their doors, and dance around the house naked with my noise canceling headphones on.

I mean, I am so desperate for some "me" time while he has been"working" (skiing in Whistler hardly constitutes a hard job) that I will do just about anything to get out of the house. On Friday, I got a bikini wax. Yup...your husband goes away for 6 days and all of a sudden waxing is considered a "spa treatment." Sometimes I am so desperate for a little me time that I think I would get a full body wax, toenail removal and nose hair plucking. I don't care what you do to me, just give me 5 minutes to lie on the warm, soft bed with the crazy muzac on...I'd pay $100 for that alone, just as long as you don't talk to me. While not nearly as painful, on Saturday, I went stag to an 80's prom. I didn't even have to go stag in the 80's, but solo I went this weekend in my fishnet leggings, flashdance shirt, and blue eyeshadow.

Amazingly, I have also managed to entertain the kids while he has been gone. We've played outside, gone to the gym, ridden our bikes, gone to the gym, taken the dog for a walk, gone to the gym (did I mention the free child care????), and I pray to God that he will be home tonight.

Time to Change the Channel

I have never really been a fan of kids music. The songs are too sweet, sing songy and like freakin' duct tape to my head. John Jacob Jingle Heimer Schmidt...shoot me now. Head Shoulders Knees and Toes...poke my eye out.
B-I-N-G-O...go ahead and commit me to the asylum.

That being said, we don't ever listen to kids music in the car (for fear of me driving head on into oncoming traffic) and we just listen to the radio. That is...until today when the lyrics got in our way.

We're driving home from the grocery store, jamming out in my pimped out volvo wagon, sun roof open, windows down, be-bopping our way home. It was great. Then the little questioner from the back seat says, "Mommy, why do they want her to get down? They say she is on top, and then she should get down"

silence from the front seat

"Mooommmmy, why, why do they want her to get down? She's on top right?"

unrestrained giggling from the front seat

"it's a silly song isn't it Mommy. I thought it was silly too."

So that's how I had to throw a bone to kids music and change the station.

I'll be the one with the noise cancelling earphones driving my kids around. Now that's silly!

What $1 at Target will get you

His choice, not mine. But I certainly enjoyed pushing the two of them around in the cart at Target. We got lots of attention...some good...some bad...but we didn't care. Attention is attention in this house!

Are you kidding me?

No joke, this is what my husband thinks is a good present for our 3.5 year old son.

He claims that not all of the figures have guns. Do you see any? They must be the ones with the grenades.

Will anyone let their children play at my house anymore? I'm not sure I would.

I'm not over-reacting am I? Is he going to be a school shooter? An NRA member? A...gasp...Republican????

Penis overload

No...this is not a perverted blog, I swear.

It is just a rant about my 3.5 year old is OBSESSED with his winky, pee pee, ding-a-ling, or whatever you want to call it. And to be honest I just don't know what to do about it.

Do I make rules about where and when he can touch it? Perhaps post them on the fridge for everyone to see?

Do I ignore it and look the other way when he has his hands down his pants at birthday parties, swim lessons, and everwhere in between? This will be one way to help him keep track of his toys as no one else will want to play with them!

Do I embrace all this touching and feeling? no, no, no...jokes about this will just get totally perverse and make even me blush!

Whatever the course I take, I have to do something. All this penis exposure is just too much. He, on the other hand, seems fine with it and finds new uses for his appendage at every turn. In fact, today he realized that it was a good place to hang his swim goggles.

Just be glad there are no pictures for this blog!

weighing in

OK...seriously, who the hell am I kidding? Myself, no. The woman behind the counter, no. The people waiting in line behind me, no. And who the hell cares? Only me.

So I ask you, why do I follow the same ridiculous routine each time I go to weigh in at Weight Watchers?

• light as a feather workout gear- check
• flip flops (so to avoid wearing those REALLY heavy socks)- check
• no food or drink since 8pm last night- check
• gone to bathroom 15 times to squeeze out that last ounce of pee- double check
• stripped down to nearly naked-check

When I first started the program this fall, I swore I wouldn't go through with this routine (yes, yes, this is patterned behavior that I am very familiar with.) I arrived wearing corduroys, a shirt, and socks...big fat heavy ones...and proudly stepped on the scale. I even managed to keep it up for the first few weeks. But then I had one week where maybe I had a few too many glasses of wine, girl scout cookies, or nachos with queso (just examples people!!), so without even thinking about it, I reverted right back to my "weigh-in" behavior.

And now I am stuck.

If I go back to say...jeans...I might not show the correct amount of weight loss because those pants are so much heavier than my almost see-through, not even comfortable, but light as a feather, black yoga pants. You can spout all your rational thoughts at me, like I'll just have to suffer one week of adjustment, or the clothes don't really make that much difference, or even that eating breakfast doesn't effect your weight that much. But in my heart of hearts, this is the behavior that I embrace.

I can only change one life-habit at a time. We're working on food now, next step...neuroses

A small step in the right direction

So I haven't been having much luck with my resolutions/ new habits/ lent sacrifices (those who are paying attention, you are right, I'm not even Catholic but LOVE the idea of challenging myself to give up something). Since January 1, 2008 I have not:

• found a new career to make me lots of money and insanely happy at the same time
• lost the remaining of my baby weight plus the extra 10 I have carried around since the first time leg warmers were in style
• stopped complaining about things that really are not in my control (I think this one is helpless, but it remains on my list nonetheless!)

Yesterday, however, I made a small step in the right direction. I kept my grocery bill to less than $150. In fact, it was only $120. As I was watching the tally grow on the screen in front of me it was like I was watching my favorite horse win the Preakness. yes, yes, go , go, yes, yes, GO, GO, YES, YES, YES. YES! YES! Or maybe it was more like that scene from When Harry Met Sally. You know the one.

Either way it was SO satisfying.

Today I am feeling incredibly successful and hopeful so I am adding one more things to my list and posting ithere so someone keeps me accountable. As of today:

• TV will not be turned on during the "day time" hours. That means from breakfast until dinner. Mostly this is for me, so I can get more done during nap time and spend less time watching Ellen...but I am hoping that we all benefit from the music that will replace the drone of the Food Network in the background (not like I was ever really going to make that leg of lamb anyway...it's not in the budget!)

Wish me luck...and I wish you the same with your goals!

His first love

It all started a few weeks ago. We got an e-mail from pre-school introducing us to the new student in our class. I encouraged the little boy to be nice to her, tell her his name, play with her on the playground, etc. Little did I know that I was encouraging the first great love affair.

So over the course of the past few weeks I have been hearing more and more about this girl. We sent her a special valentine, we learned how to spell her name, and we talk about her incessantly in the car on the way home from school. Still, I wasn't thinking much about this, he simply had a new friend.

That all changed on Wednesday when one of his teachers, as I was dropping him off at school, said, "Has Will told you about his new girlfriend?"

Slam on the brakes....WHAT????...girlfriend-girlfriend???

As relaxed as telling me that he painted a picture at school, she said, "yup...and they are totally smitten. Have a good day! " Slam the door. As the horns started honking from behind me in the car line, the freak out began. Hold on ladies...my boy has a girlfriend???

Still, I wasn't thinking too much about it. I did sneak up to school early so I could check her out (totally adorable, he does have good taste!), called the hubby to report and wept quietly that he was growing up so fast.

It wasn't until his other pre-school teacher called me that afternoon to talk about the relationship between said girl and my son did the true freak out begin. She started out by saying that he had impeccable taste (A+ in parent management to her...always start with a compliment) but that sometimes he was very sad if she didn't want to sit next to him, swing with him...the list went on. So my son is a stalker??? No, she insisted that wasn't the case, but he was "very invested in the relationship." Since when did we use this sort of language for 3 year olds???

SUPER FREAK OUT GOING ON NOW.

I don't know what to make of this whole thing. But all I can say is that it completely took me by surprise. In my list of neurosis...having a girlfriend hadn't even made it to the list yet and now it is at the top. Was it like this when I was 3.5? And why am I taking comfort in the fact that she is so cute, bright, and mature? Can this really predict what might happen in the future? And if so...watch out girls...I'm on the fast train to crazy-town!

So random

So, I mentioned earlier that I haven't been blogging as much lately. I don't really have a reason, just haven't really thought our life was that interesting (stay tuned for the blog on the boy's girlfriend...I KNOW!) So when I go missing for a little, I realize that some people actually do read my blog (ok...just 2 Laura and my mother). And in her feeble attempt to catch up with me via our blogs...Laura tagged me. I LOVE doing these stupid things with her. We compete to see who can say the stupidest, strangest, and sometimes most perverted things (think of how much time we waste filling out those chain mails asking about random personal details.)

So here are the rules:
1. List 7 random things about yourself that people may not know.
2. Link the person who sent this to you, and leave a comment on their blog so that their readers can visit yours.
3. Post the rules on your blog.
4. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, linking their blog. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog. I don't have 7 blogging friends...so I'm not doing this one!

So here we go. 7 random things that very select few know about me.

1. In high school I was the front end of the dancing cow in the musical Gypsy. My lines were "moo, moo, moo-moo" No joke.

2. Also in high school, I came in second in a beauty contest on a cruise ship on the Black Sea (back in the days of the USSR) I was named Miss Charming...so true!

3. I, to this day, try to convince myself that I am shorter than my husband. I'm not, I'm an inch taller, but I really don't like it!

4. I try SO hard to never have to go to the bathroom in a public space. To me, they are the grossest things out there. Granted, not as bad as the hole in the ground in Odessa, but still...so many germs!

This is getting hard. I know there are random things about me, but I can't think of them right now!

5. I cannot leave the house without making my bed. I would rather be late than leave with the beds unmade.

This is starting to look like a documentation of my OCD, but that is ok.

6. If I could go to dinner with any celebrity it would be either Will Smith or Queen Latifah.

you asked for random...I'm giving you random!

7. My favorite word in the whole world is F#*K. (this is not a revelation to anyone who has ever been with me after having a few drinks!) I think it is the most versatile word ever and if challenged I could find a way to use it in every sentence. That will be my next challenge to Laura!

OK, that's it. That was harder than I originally thought.

He married Martha.

I've been missing, I know.

I've been busy, you know.

But I have to say that it may be a week late, but I still feel compelled to post the pictures of our Valentine's dinner. I am neither a professional chef of photographer, but this was one hell of a meal if I do say so myself.

Check it out.

Of course, his first question was, "Did I marry Martha Stewart?" How much did this cost? Such a romantic I tell you. But the answer truly brought him to his knees:

• Beef tenderloin- free (xmas present from the bossman)


• scallops - $8


• Alaskan King Crab- $6


• Asparagus- $3


• Having your son eat the whole meal without a single argument- Priceless

It may not fit into our $60/week budget (yeah, that isn't going so well) but it was YUMMY!

$15/ person...really?

OK..if you know me at all, or my husband for that matter, you know that the writers' strike has really challenged our relationship. I mean, seriously, if nothing is on, does that mean that we have to talk to one another? Noooo...it just means we have to find something to watch.

But sometimes it isn't just the lack of TV that challenges us, it is what we choose to watch. The other night I found myself engrossed in a marathon of Jon and Kate + 8 on TLC. The premise is that Jon and Kate have 7 year old twins and 3 year old sextuplets. I watched for hours in awe how they managed to feed, clothe, take out to public places, and control these 8 kids while still staying sane. Don't get me wrong, they lose their patience, yell, and even bicker with each other. But no more than my husband and I do. It is amazing.

It is so amazing that I can't stop thinking about one episode; the one when Kate goes to the grocery store (this is nearly as exciting as 24 people, I tell you!). Imagine going grocery shopping for 10 people...and only once a week. I can barely go for 4 and I end up at the store multiple times each week.

And if that sounds challenging, imagine trying to keep your bill less than $150. FOR TEN PEOPLE! I find it hard to keep MY bill under $150. If I were on Kate's budget, I would only get $60 a week. You've got to be kidding me.

But in the spirit of trying something new and paying for my $3700 transmission (thanks Volvo!) I'm going to give it the old college try. I guess if it is the old college try it means that we'll be eating Ramen noodles and drinking Natural Light. But if I drink like I did in college, that will blow my $15 right away. And I digress.

I'll let you know how it goes, but don't expect miracles. Unlike Huckabee, I tend to believe the mathematics major rather than the miracles major.

sound sleeper

Seriously, does this look comfortable?

the bad kind of quiet

I don't know about the rest of the moms out there, but a little silence is about the best thing in the world. Whether it is in the morning before the kids wake up, during nap time, or at night when they are both asleep. I love them to death, but a little quiet goes a long way for my sanity. Yesterday I experienced the bad kind of quiet. You know, that silence that happens when your child goes downstairs, plays by himself, and everything seems well...quiet.

I got carried away by it yesterday. Little boy went downstairs between lunch and nap time and it got quiet. I sat down at my computer, started checking e-mail, changed the laundry, paid the bills, ate my own lunch and then it dawned on me...why is it so quiet? So I went down to see what was going on. And as you can see from the photo to the right...what I experienced was the "bad kind of quiet"

I have to admit though, if I had to do it all again, I'd let the destruction happen all over for another 15 minutes of quiet in the middle of the day!

Reality TV...or just comedy

So, as we all know there is nothing on TV these days. The writers strike has made all of us desperate for anything new. Read a book? Nahh...we'll just suffer through all the reality TV that is on.

So tonight, we see an ad that gives us hope for the next couple of months.

The Baby Borrowers


The premise is that there are 6 teen couples who think that they can handle having a baby. And we get to watch them find out the truth.

The catch phrase is, "It's not reality tv, it's birth control"

Set the TIVO, I'm there for the trainwreck.

I'm so glad I had a ....

Boy

Seriously he is the funiest kid I have ever met. All he does is try to make people laugh, make them happy, and of course be the center of attention (i would have to say that he comes by this all very naturally!) He gets up is the middle of dinner because "I just have to dance" a la Dazed and Confused...We often ask, "where did he come from?" wink, wink

But what makes me love him and his father even more is their love for all dangerous, risk taking, outdoor activities that I really have no interest participating in. For instance...it snowed 3 days ago, so this morning in the 22 degree weather, the 2 of them bundle up in their snow gear, head outside and find the only portion of steep hill that still has some snow left and decide to go sledding. Yes this hill goes right into a stream, yes this hill has a pipe drain on one side of it, and yes, I think that there is some sort of monster living at the bottom of this hill...but who am I to question their adventure? They trek out there, move snow around so there is one continuous path, and sled until frostbite and broken limbs are nearly imminent.

But let's rewind to yesterday when we go to our friend's 3 year old birthday party. It's at this awesome place called Ultimate Playzone. Sure it took us over and hour to get there...but it was SO worth it. Bouncy houses everywhere and no sharp corners to speak of. And getting back to my risk-taking, fearless duo...they had nothing to fear. There were bouncy houses, slides, a pirate ship, basketball nets and nothing else to cause injuries...or was there? It seems that it took my husband about 5 minutes to dive into the bouncy house with the gaggle of 3 year olds and start propelling my son into the air. This is their schtick...rough house and wrestle. It seemed like a good idea until our son cannon-balled himself right onto an unsuspecting little girl also at the party. She never saw it coming, that 46 pounds of boy careening right toward her head! Luckily there were no major injuries to report, but bloody noses, cut lips, and lots of tears later everyone returned to the party.

The party was still a huge success (I mean seriously, it had a Diego cake from Graul's) and much fun was had.

And as we drove home we asked the little boy "What was your favorite part today?"

He thought for a minute and responded with a straight face, "Well....I know it definitely was not when you threw me and hurt me Daddy...definitely not that part."

Touche kiddo, touche.

If you are going to London...

Today was a sad day in dressing my children. You see, while my parents lived in London, I always wanted to shop. But if you have ever been to London then you know that a pound is a wee bit stronger than a dollar so shopping is never a sound investment (actually my mother's friends could justify a flight back to the States citing the amount of money they would save from shopping)

Anyhow, one Christmas my mother decided to follow the advice of Time Out and shopped at Marylebone High Street. Sure you have to push yourself through the crowds of sigh *tourists* sigh again waiting to get into Madame Toussad's to get there, but once you arrive...it is a European shopping heaven. No deals to be found, but a mecca nonetheless. My sister, however, might complain that there was no Jigsaw, but nothing is ever perfect. So that Christmas we were introduced to Space NK Apothecary, The Conran Shop, Skandium, Brora (the most beautiful cashmere you have ever seen!) and of course, the point of my story, The Little White Company.

I think that it started innocently enough with a pair of Christmas pijamas and it just snowballed from there. Not only are the pjs made from the most luxorious thick 100% cotton, they are simple, downright adorable, AND cheaper than pjs at the Gap. I covet these pjs, saving them for special nights...nights when the boy has taken a bath, when someone besides us is going to see him, or when I just need a good hug from a kid in the comfiest pjs around.

My last visit to The Little White Company was in May. My parents were packing up to move home, and I was stocking up for my little boy and my in-utero little girl. We bought just about everything in the store that we didn't already have...and then some. But today I realized that we didn't buy enough. Today, I put the last new outfit on our little girl. I have no more stock-piled pjs to hold on to for the next special occasion...we're back to stocking up at the Gap and other such places. So today, I am sad. I miss going to London for so many reasons, but The Little White Company might be the biggest of all.

is paying $50 in shipping too much for pjs???

Not my future career

OK, so I have been dwelling a lot on what I want to do when I grow up my kids grow up. But I'll tell you one job I'll never get. President of the United States.

I have been amazed this week at the amount of press Hillary Clinton has gotten because she teared up in New Hampshire.

She teared up for god's sake. Not cry, not sob, just got a little choked up, verklempt if you will. She's tired, she thought she was losing, and she is human after all.

Now, let us just for one moment imagine that I was in her position. No sleep for about 10 months, thought my life goals were about to go down the toilet, and asked a raw, emotional question. This is what it would have been like for me.(because it is the important things in life that usually get me going!)

It doesn't matter if I am tired, sad, angry, or overjoyed...I cry. It is a characteristic that I come by honestly and genetically and there is nothing I can do about it. Just ask my parents, sister, husband, former bosses, and the nasty man who yelled at me because he thought I took his parking space. I'm a crier and proud of it.

Say Peas!

Oh how I love solid food. And so does she. We are now sleeping through the night, not cranky, and well adjusted (I'm talking about me, not her!).

Hallelujah!

A New Year: A New Me

I have to make a change. No, I am not just talking about the jeans that I have been wearing for 3 days straight or the 6 pounds I gained over the holidays. (the women at weight watchers were nice enough not to gasp and just tell me that they were proud that I even came back)

I am talking about my career...or lack there of at this point.

Every day I struggle to be a good mom. And to be honest, I don't think that I am doing that well. In fact, the other day I was asked which I loved more, a good meal or my children. That answer is obvious when I revealed my 6 pound weight gain, right? Noooo...I love my kids to death, but I just am not the crafty, make a project out of pipe cleaners, paper plates, and all the leaves they dragged into the house stay at home mom..so I question what am I good at?

• spending no less than $100 at Target
• wasting 4 hours of free-school time
• taking 4 days to wash 3 days worth of laundry

Can I make a career out of any of these talents?

No...but I think I had my eureka moment this morning when trying to figure out what we were going to do (a no plan day is always the scariest day of all!) and all I wanted was a cup of coffee and all my 3 year old wanted to do was play with friends.

So that's it. I'm going to start a business...and no I'm not joking here...a drink and play cafe**. Have a cup of coffee, enjoy wireless internet and watch your child play with all the toys you don't want to have in your house (picture kitchens, work benches, big blocks and everything else you don't want to store *) Of course, there will be a fantastic person to watch the children, make sure everyone shares, takes their turn, and leaves you alone while you check your e-mail, pay your bills, or even google your 8th grade boyrfriend. Doesn't that sound fantastic?

I'm on it.

*add to that list the flat screen tv in the corner that I promised my husband will exclusively play ESPN on Saturday and Sunday mornings to attract the Daddy congregation.

**very strange coincidence that Monkey Business has had the same thought recently too!

12 Days of Christmas

Let's just cut to the last verse and it is much better if you sing it out loud!!

On the twelveth day of Christmas my true love gave to me:

12 hours of sleep (continuous, not just over a period of 3 days)
11 friends to play with (at their house!)
10 pedicured toes (a manicure would be pushing it!)
9 days without bed wetting (now I'm getting really greedy!)
8 minute carpool line
7 pounds lost (that would get me back to even!)
6 days at the gym (even God took one day off!)
5 SERVINGS OF VEGGIES EATEN!
4 hour naps
3 square meals
2 healthy kids
and a maid to clean up after me! (not every other week...ALL THE TIME!)

Bad Mommy

I have been thinking for months about all the things I swore I would never do as a parent back when I was not a parent. I'm never even really positive about the contents of this "list" until I get to the point where I have to break one of the rules.

They include things such as:
1. I won't make a scene in a restaurant, store, library, or any quiet place. HA! Did that one about 15 million times already

2. I won't let my child pee outside, on the side of the road or any place other than a bathroom. Did you see us on the side of 95 South that day peeing in the woods?

3. I won't let my kids have those motorized vehicles that are fake jeeps, hummers, race cars etc. In my garage there are now TWO of them, thanks to the neighbors.

4, I won't succomb to the junk food, processed food that is so available and will give my kids all natural homemade products. Just ask my mother about our trip to Vienna where my son only ate processed orange food. Oops.

Most of these "rules" I set out for myself were broken with my son, but today I was able to break two of them with my daughter simultaneously.

5. I won't neglect my child, ignore their cries, or leave them wanting.

Well...today I did all 3. Little baby girl was playing in the exersaucer and started to make some noise. I was doing some other things and wanted her to hold off for her nap until we got in the car in 10 minutes. She whined, she cried, she fussed, but she was going to be okay. I checked my e-mail, I changed the laundry, I emptied the dishwasher. And then I decided to check on her. There she was, as cute as a button, asleep in the exersaucer. This is not an easy thing to do.

So as I ran to get my camera to document this neglect (wouldn't this story be better with a photo?) another rule got broken

6. I won't let animals lick, maul, eat my children

When I got back to sleeping beauty she was awake because the dog was standing right in her face and licking it.

Hmmm...send this one to DSS.

He must hate me

So yesterday was my husband's birthday and I had such a great plan. I had a sitter, I had reservations, and I even had clean clothes and makeup to wear. But the plan was tossed aside when my husband couldn't get home from work in time and we instead looked for a Plan B . So the conversation went something like this...

Me: So what do you want to do? I can meet you somewhere.
Him: I don't care, I just don't want to eat at a mall.
Me: Hmmm...I don't know where anything is around here if it isn't at the mall.
Him: You don't know where ANYTHING is that isn't at a mall.
Me: uhhh...no not really. I know where 3 Cheesecake Factory's are, but I don't know of any free standing restaurants around here that aren't at a mall
Him: Fine, we'll eat at a mall, on December 18, at night, on my birthday...fine.

So I get to the restaurant and my husband is no where to be found. I call him on his cell.

Me: Where are you? What's taking so long.
Him: I'm here, I'm just looking for a parking space

10 minutes later I call back
Me: What is going on? What's the problem?
Him: I finally found a spot by Macy's, I'm walking the 15 miles to the restaurant, I'll be right there.

I think I hear him mutter something about "happy birthday to me" as we hang up.

Eventually we enjoy a nice dinner together. Let's be honest, for the 2 of us to even eat dinner without shouting over the 3 year old, the crying 5 month old, and the whining dog...it could be at McDonald's and we'd be happy. Add to it a couple of margaritas and raspberry martinis...and everything is great. So as we wrap up dinner, I tell him to go ahead get started back to his car (The way he describes it, he parked in Wyoming!) and I'll meet him home.

When I got home, I paid the sitter, checked my e-mail and then my kids (in that order) and settled down to the couch. About 25 minutes later it dawned on me...Where IS he? So I called.

Me: Where are you?
Him: I'm still at the f&^**^ing mall. I can't find my car.
Me: What can I do?
Him: silence

Another 25 minutes pass and I am doing my best not to fall asleep on the couch before he gets home. Eventually he confides that the red packages with ribbons he used to remember which entrance of Macy's he used were at all 10 entrances. I didn't ask too many questions, just served some birthday cake, yawned, and whispered quietly as I walked up stairs

Me: We shouldn't have eaten at the mall.

A Christmas Tag

I've never done this before...but here we go...I'm only doing this for you Boom!

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?
I would love to be so martha and wrap everything...but in a pinch, a bag and some tissue!
2. Real tree or artificial?
No question, Real!
3. When do you put up the tree?
Next weekend, we just haven't been home to do it yet!
4. When do you take the tree down?
New's Years Day. I'm already feeling down from the disappointment of New Years, why not just go with the depression!
5. Do you like eggnog?
YUCK!
6. Favorite gift received as a child?
a riding saddle. In fact, I just got rid of it last year...to the delight of my husband.
7. Have a Nativity scene?
no.
8. Hardest person to buy for?
my in-laws, for sure!
9. Easiest person to buy for?
my 5 month old. She's going to LOVE everything I got her :)
10. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?
jogging shorts and fat calipers (to measure my body fat) from my husband. He swears I asked for them!
11. Mail or email Christmas cards?
mail. Come to think of it, I better get on those!
12. Favorite Christmas Movie?
A Christmas Story. Eat like the piggies!
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas?
RIght after Halloween. I start with all the online stuff, become friendly with the UPS guy and of course, I always end up at the mall the week before christmas!
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?
Well, for about 25 years we have been handing a fruitcake back and forth bewteen two families. Not exactly what I would call a present, more like a weighted brick of love.
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?
My Aunt Jenie's cookies that my father is now starting to cook. BTW...1 is about 15 points on WW
16. Clear lights or colored on the tree?
clear
17. Favorite Christmas song?
Carol of the Bells, though I can't sing I loved singing that in chorus "ding dong, ding dong"
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home?
oh so sad...we used to travel Rome, Vienna, London...but this year it is home sweet home.
19. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer?
Not unless dopey is one of them!
20. Angel on the tree top or a star?
Star.
21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning?
Morning, noon and night. My sister and I fight over who can open the last present. We like to drag it out...of course because presents equals cocktail hour!
22. Most annoying thing about this time of year?
those blow up decorations...they are NOT decorations, just ugly! AND...long typed out letters accompanying christmas cards.
23. What I love most about Christmas?
Cooking...eating...cooking...eating..and repeat! OH...and christmas cards with pictures.

Snow Day!

Snow Day! part 1

I have always loved snow days. When I was little I remember begging my dad to cancel school. (and unlike many other kids, my father actually had the power to do so.) I would wake up at 5am just to hear him walk down the hall and turn off my alarm clock. No matter, I was already wide awake.

And then when I was a teacher myself I would wish for them like a little girl wishing for a pony. Oh, what I wouldn't do to have an extra day to grade papers, catch up on report cards, or write lesson plans. And like any good snow day, I would always spend it curled up on the couch watching Oprah and Ellen, reading the People magazine (purchased the day before in hopes there would be a snow day) and taking cat naps.

But I have to tell you nothing makes a snow day better than when you wake with a cry of joy from the monitor, "YAY! It's Christmas!" My little boy, looking out his window this morning and seeing all of the snow just assumed that Santa had come, Christmas was here, and there was joy to be spread around the world. And then he added, "AND Mommy, it is a school day too!" As if life couldn't get any better...snow, santa and school. He had hit the trifecta.

So one can only imagine the disappointment when he came downstairs and found that not only had Santa not come, but school was closed. Yes there was snow, but it seemed to have ruined all of his plans. Luckily for us, nothing changes a sad face around here like chocolate chip cookies and some sledding. So the crisis had been diverted, snow days are still fun around here and by lunch time, even the dog was smiling (can't you see it in the pictures?)