There's a plague upon us...and mind your own business!

It is a medical miracle that Anna has, up until this point, not succumbed to the plague.  You see Anna is perpetually conducting a scientific experiment to see how far a human being can push the limits of cleanliness.  Or, in her case, lack of cleanliness.  In what would seemingly be an impossibility Anna comes out of the tub DIRTIER than when she went in.  When she washes her hands I make her use a  nail brush, not in preparation for a manicure...nope, it is because after a day of Anna being Anna her hands look as if she had been toiling in a coal mine for a 24 hour shift.  I don't know what she gets in to.  Sara's hands have never been that dirty.  Ever!  But, I need to keep in mind this is the child that just the other day admitted to having, on occasion, picked her nose with her toes.  It is not uncommon to see Anna walk by, going about her daily activities sans pants. No reason given.  She is the master of passing gas and instinctively blames it on someone else with a completely straight face.  She is the queen of pooping her pants and continuing to play while sitting in her own filth.  Today Chuck wondered out loud if Anna had contracted leprosy.  He was getting her out of the car and had to wait, she was peeling a layer of her fingernail off.  Yup, that is about right.   I have never put much thought into putting my children on a reality show, but, if I had to guess which show may be appropriate for one of my offspring I would place the smart money on "Monsters Inside Me" on Animal Planet.  It profiles real people that are infected with all sorts of crazy parasites, bacteria, etc.  I see an upcoming episode featuring Annie and a rare form of Leishmaniasis. 

Poor Anna has been sick since Christmas Eve.  She was fine all day.  Late in the afternoon she was crying at the drop of a hat.  I just thought she was overwhelmed with the festivities and didn't give it much thought.  We head out to a family holiday party and 10 minutes in she get sick eyes.  She is freezing and asks if she can go home and go to bed.  We make a quick exit.  I feel bad for Anna, but I also feel bad for exposing all the other kids at the start of school vacation.  Had I known she was sick I would never have brought her....I swear I am not THAT parent...you know the one that always brings their snot nose kid without giving anyone a heads up beforehand and inevitably your kid gets sick 2 days later.  So to anyone that was at the party...I am so sorry!!  She didn't show any symptoms until after we arrived!!

Since then we have all been playing musical beds...trying to maximize the amount of family members who get sleep.  Christmas Eve Anna slept in bed with Chuck and I took the bottom bunk in the girl's room.  Anna was coughing so much it was difficult for Sara to fall asleep.  So Chuck and Anna had a sleepless night.  Sara was up every 20 minutes asking if Santa had come yet, the fish tank light shines brighter than the northern lights so in between her waking up I had perpetual sunlight shining in my eyes.  Christmas night Sara slept in my bed, Anna in hers and Chuck on the couch.  That was the best combo.  The girls did fine and Chuck and I each got a solid 5 hours.  More than we have had in a long time.  Last night Anna wanted a turn to sleep in my bed with me, Sara was on her top bunk and Chuck started out in the bottom bunk.  When all was said and done I ditched Anna and went into her bed, Chuck then went out on the couch.  Anna threw a fit and wanted to sleep on the couch, so Chuck went into our bed and I ended up on the floor next to Anna and the couch.  Did you follow that?  Once we get Anna's cough under control musical beds is over and everyone will be back where they belong.

Anna has been fever free for over 24 hours so we ventured out into the world today.  It is the only day during Chuck's time off that we had no plans.  We wanted to have a fun family day.  Of course the weather was a disaster but that didn't stop us.  Like I said, Anna was fever free BUT...if you happen to be at the Bertucci's in Norwood, The Bass Pro Shop or Berry Yogurt at Patriot Place you may want to bring some Purell. We had a great time until we came across a jerk at the Bass Pro Shop.  Yes my friends, I said it...a JERK!  And the answer is no... for those of you that may be wondering if I had a run in with a hunter.  It happened in the most benign area of the store.  The time share kiosk!  We were having a great time climbing through the ice fishing tents, sitting on the tractors, checking out  the stuffed wildlife and looking at the fish and turtles.  Then we met her.  The jerk.  She handed us something to fill out so we could enter to win $25,000.  So there we are filling out forms when she blindsides us with her a$$sholeishness.  That may not *technically* be a word, but it suits her just fine.  Sara has decided that she doesn't want to dress like a little girl anymore.  She wants to dress like a big girl.  To her that means jeans, long sleeve t-shirts and sparkly hooded sweatshirts and boots.  Nothing pushing the envelope there.  She does however like to wear eye shadow or lipstick.  I don't allow this all the time but sometimes I do give in...Rule #1 of being a parent...PICK YOUR BATTLES!!  If a tiny bit of teal eye shadow is going to help Sara through the day then from time to time I am going to allow it.  Sara is a sweet, extremely bright, kind child.  She is also a very anxious child.   If there is a big, anxiety provoking event coming up she feels much calmer if she has a little lipstick on.  Makeup has become like a security blanket for her.  Not exactly what I would want for her as a go-to esteem booster, but you know what?...it works for her and it enables her to face some situations that in the past she would just avoid, making it unpleasant for the whole family.  As her mother I have the final say as to how she is raised.  It is not like I am dressing her in slutty clothes and pimping her out or putting fake eye lashes on her and adding hair extensions because I don't think she looks good enough.  I am letting my little girl dust a little shadow on her eyes.  OK, that being said, here is what happened....I am filling out the form and this girl who looks to be about 20-23 years old says, "oh my God does she have makeup on?....I didn't see if before until she blinked".  I said, yeah, she wanted a little that matched her sweater.  This time share girls goes on and on...saying things like..."you are her mother and you let her wear make-up?...how old is she?...she shouldn't wear makeup this young....she will be crazy as a teenager if you let her get away with stuff like this...she is too cute to wear that stuff...my nieces and nephews would never be allowed to do that..."  she is going on and on.  Sara is starting to feel real uncomfortable at this point.  Thanks random strange Bitch!  You are  undoing all the hard work I have put into Sara over coming her social anxieties.  I have seen some questionable parenting choices in my time.  If the child is not physically being hurt or severely emotionally hurt in my presence I keep it to myself and might make a comment later to someone.  There have been 2 occasions when I have seen parents smack their kids in the face and I have said something.  But, who am I to tell another parent their child really should have a coat on in the rain?  Maybe they just spent 40 minutes trying to get the kid to put one on and finally decided to just go out anyone hoping the child will learn to wear a coat next time.  If a parent lets their kid eat 2 happy meals at McDonald's not my place to say anything.  If someone gives their kid coffee at Dunkin Donuts there is nothing I can do about it.  I can only do what is right for my children and hope that other parents have the best interest of their children in mind when choosing how to parent them.  So back to this jerk...she keeps going on and on.  I seriously started to look around for John Quinoes.  I was thinking I HAD to be on the hidden camera show, "What would you do?".  Nope....she was just a straight jackass.  I wanted so bad to say something..to tell her off and explain to her that yes, just like you I was an awesome parent before I actually had children.  That I had all the answers and I was going to have perfect children and always say the right thing.  But then I HAD children and I realized that every day brings a new challenge...some you would never begin to anticipate so until you walk in someone's shoes you should keep your comments to yourself (or at least until I walk away and say them behind my back)...but I didn't say any of that because Sara was with me and she is still traumatized from the spirited "disagreement" I had with the cashier at the big Wal-Mart.   She still gets nervous when we go there...she reminds me that I yelled at the guy we were never going to shop there again.  So I walked away leaving poor Chuck to listen to her whole time share presentation. Since we left there Sara has asked me 3 times what that lady said and why she said it.  I was honest and told her she was mean.  Sara asked why and I told her that she wasn't happy with her life so she wanted to make everyone around her unhappy too.  I told Sara that we don't need to listen to unhappy people that what they say isn't important.  After I write this blog I am going to email the manager at the Bass Pro Shop and tell them they need to reign her in.  If I ever voiced my personal opinions at work I would be out of a job so fast.  Not that I want her to lose her job, but just stick to selling time shares and leave the parenting to the parents.  Thank you.  I will get off of my soap box now....

He's Making a list...she's calling his bluff...

It's Christmas time.  That magical time of year when parents can just mail it in.  All the work is done for them...you've got Santa to do all your dirty work.  Kids are fighting?... "Santa's watching"...kids are not cooperating?..."Do I need to call Santa?"   Now, with the whole Elf on the Shelf phenomenon it has made my job that much easier.  From Thanksgiving when our Elf "Buttery" arrives until Christmas all I need to do is glance over at the elf and they shape right up.  If I do need to bring in the big guns I call the big guy himself...I am very fortunate in that I have his direct phone number...I call, put him on speaker phone and he sets the girls straight real quick.  Last year the idea of "Santa watching" actually lasted until about Valentine's Day.  He saw the girls engage in less than "nice" behavior and sent them a letter reminding them he was still watching.  Once they had enough of Santa low and behold, the Easter Bunny is starting to get his basket's together.  Good news for me, not so good for the kids...now they have to be on their best behavior if they have any hopes of getting candy...

I recently became aware of people that are not into the whole Elf on a Shelf  thing...not because they are creepy looking and make the kids nervous, but because they don't like the idea of "threatening" their kids into good behavior.  Hmmm...I must be a sh*tty mom because I kind of base my whole parenting philosophy around that in the winter and spring months.  I put in hard work all summer and fall...teaching them the all important life lessons of why you should "be good for goodness sake" and not because you are afraid you won't get something sweet out of the deal in return.  I deserve to cruise through a few months out of the year.  I am not sure, but, these may be the same kind of parents that believe  score should not be kept in soccer and that running races and the like should not be allowed on the playground lest some child learn the horrible life lesson of adversity.  I am just going to say it...when I play a board game with my kids whoever wins fair and square is the winner, I don't let them win on purpose just because I am 35 years older than them...But once again, I digress...

 Back to Santa as a parenting tool...Santa sent my girls computer messages.  Sara watched hers while holding her breath.  Of course, Sara, the girl who always follows the rules to a fault made it on the nice list.  You could literally see her relax once she learned her fate.  Anna on the other hand, watched but not as intently.  It was as if she had some insight into Santa's thought process.  Turns out she made the nice list, but barely.  Santa told her she still had a few things to work on if she wanted to stay on the nice list and not cross over to the dark side.  I can't tell if Sara was terrified or in her glory that her younger sibling may have done something to anger Jolly Old St. Nick.  Sara says, "does this mean Anna isn't going to get any toys?"  I explain to the both of them  right now she is safe, but, Anna really needs to work hard the next couple of days to stay on Santa's good side.  Anna looks at me and asks, "so I might wake up and not have any toys?"  To which I answer, "It could happen...if you aren't really good the next few days you might end up on the naughty list."  Now, I know I should never make a promise I am not prepared to keep...but, technically this was Santa's promise.   She looks me straight in the eye and says, "that's OK...I don't want any new toys...I have enough already."
 That little bugga just called Santa's bluff!!!  This kid is fearless!  Most kids cringe at the thought of not making it onto the nice list.  Nope, not Anna...in her defense she is totally committed to her laziness.  It is just too much work being good.  I guess she feels the reward is not worth the investment.  In a way I admire her dedication.  As some of my Facebook friends know, we recently discovered a snack wrapper burial ground behind the couch.  Based on the evidence we knew Anna was the culprit.  She is the only one in the house that eats fruit snacks and drinks smoothies.  When presented with said evidence she originally denied it, only to cop to it later in the day.  She promised not to dump things behind the couch anymore.  I would check daily and nothing!  Wow, she was listening and following the rules.  Yeah, right!  A few days later I was pulling the curtain back to let some light in and there it was...her new hiding spot...all the wrappers come falling out.  Apparently the 10 foot walk to the trash is too much.  She is "too tired and lazy" to throw things away.  Apparently she is too lazy to even look for a new hiding spot as she is back to her original behind the couch dumping ground.

Knowing Anna like I do, she talks a good game but I knew she would come around.  She has really been stepping up her behavioral efforts lately.  When she sneaks a snack before meal time she is getting one for Sara too...oh how considerate!  The second she pees or poops herself she comes right over, snuggles me telling me I am the best mommy ever and today, she gave me flowers!!  (Granted she pulled them out the Styrofoam from a faux floral decoration, but, it is the thought that counts...right?)

So as of tonight, Saturday 22nd at 8:59 pm Anna is on the nice list.  I have a feeling she will be getting something under the tree on Tuesday...until then, I like millions of parents before me and millions to come after  will be  milking the Elf and Santa for all I can. 


Merry Christmas!!


PS-  A quick, funny Anna story that pretty much sums her up...tonight we were all on the couch watching a movie.  She has her hands and feet under a blanket.  She asks what would happen if she had no fingers or toes.  I told her we would help  get the things she needed for her.  She said, "No!  How would I pick my nose?"  Sara and Chuck laughed but I was horrified...I asked if she really picked her nose with her toes and she said she does.  GROSS!!  I then said, "Anna there is no one like you"..."Yes, mom, people like me" she responded...she is truly one of a kind!!

What the What?

That is what Anna says for something incredible or unbelievable.  That is how I have been feeling since Friday...the day of the unimaginable tragedy in Connecticut.  What the what?  How could something like this happen to beautiful innocent children?  How will the surviving children who witnessed unspeakable sights recover?  How will the parents whose children were murdered go on?  Why would a mother keep so many guns in her home she shared with her troubled child?  The questions go on and on and for many of them there will be no answers.  We will never know.

I have a few draft blog entries I have been working on.  There was one I started before the school shooting.  In it I actually was talking about home schooling...I wrote how I thought it wasn't for me.  The reasons being; 1.)  I am not a hippie parent, 2) that I believe in socializing my kids and having them be part of a societal group 3.) I get sidetracked easily...I would be teaching the girls a science lesson and the phone rings... it would be a good hour into the phone call when I realize I ditched the kids mid experiment and 4.) honestly, I am just way too lazy to home school my kids.  That was BEFORE Sandy Hook.  Since then I have honestly looked up the Home Schooling laws here in my state and I have seriously started thinking about it.  I have even thought about asking some other moms if they wanted in on it so the kids would have a few hand picked classmates.  I thought I had several more years before we needed to worry about school shootings.  But our country has entered a new low...children killed while learning their ABC's.  Sara goes to preschool in the local elementary school.  Four days a week I entrust Sara to her teachers.  As a parent you always worry about your children.  It is part of a parents DNA.  As a former preschool teacher I understand part of a teacher's job is to protect and keep your students safe.  I trust the teachers to keep Sara safe from playground bullies and to protect and build her self confidence and self esteem.  A charge in itself daunting, on top of it they are also responsible for teaching them academics.  It had NEVER crossed my mind that her elementary school teachers may someday have to protect her life from a mad man with an assault rifle.  It makes me sick to my stomach.  Chuck had Monday off and Anna's playgroup is over, we were just going to hang out.  I offered Sara the chance to stay home with us.  I was really hoping she would take me up on it.  She opted for school.  It was gut wrenching seeing her walk out the door.  Chuck took her to school that morning which is just as well because I was on the verge of tears as it was, had I seen the police car parked outside I would have lost it.  Even Chuck, who normally is not very reactionary got choked up.  She needs to go to school, all children do but every parent I spoke to had the same reaction that morning...it has become especially hard letting them go.

All parents have to make decisions for their own children.  Chuck and I have made a conscience decision to not tell Sara about the shooting.  Knowing her baseline anxiety issues combined with her age and developmental level we decided she did not need to know.  It is not that we believe in shielding our children from the world around them. We are quite honest with our kids; they know the proper names for ALL their body parts, they know that sometimes bad things happen, they know that pets and people die, sadly, even children.  But, this, this is just too much.  I have no answers for them this time.  We have not watched the news since Friday.  I have not listened to talk radio either.  I do put the TV on at around 10 p.m. hours after they have gone to bed, just to make sure they don't sneak out and see something they shouldn't.  I sit horrified listening to parents of the murdered children, stories of the teachers that gave their lives for children they have only known for 4 months and just seeing so many people broken hearted.  Anderson Cooper started to cry during one of his reports.   It was just too much for me.  I put on Jimmy Kimmel for a break from the unbearable sadness.  He came on and during his live monologue he started to cry.  He is a comedian.  He is supposed to be light hearted and make people laugh.  Even he is just so upset by this.  This tragedy has cut straight to the core of so many people on so many levels.  Something has to be done. I am not going to get into a debate about gun control legislation or the treatment of the mentally ill in this country.  I have my opinions on those issues, but no real answers...

But here is what I DO know...due to some hard life lessons and working in pediatrics for 13 years, many of those years in an ER and most recently an intensive care unit, I do know tomorrow is promised to no one.  I have seen far too many lives forever changed in an instant.  Many people may think seeing some of the tragic things I have seen over the years is a curse.  I like to think of it as a blessing.  It has made me a better parent.  I know that I don't get a second chance with my kid's childhood. I try to make it count now, today.  I put a joke in Sara's lunchbox everyday, it is a pain in the neck, but I want her to know that I am thinking about her even when we are not together.  Thanks to my friend Dawn I do "play, chores, play" with the girls.  20 minutes to play, 20 minutes of chores and then back to playing.  I don't want them to think back on their childhood and remember me always cleaning the house and not playing with them.  I watch all their "shows" they put on for us, I read to them every night before bed, and I always, ALWAYS put them, their well being and happiness before my own.  Life with children can and does get crazy and at times you get bogged down in the minutia of the day to day but I want my children to find the positive in every day.  To that end every night at dinner we all go around the table and talk about the favorite part of our day.  The girls love this, especially Anna...many nights I haven't completely sat down and she is asking about all of our days.  It is not always unicorns and sunshine in our house but literally at the end of the day I want them to know how much I love them.  I tell them both how much I love them and I always say, "with all the children in the world I have the best two...I am so lucky to be your mommy".  I have done this long before Sandy Hook and I will continue to do it for as long as they let me...and even after when they will need to hear it the most.   Remember after 9/11 how the entire country was so nice and friendly?  People would let you merge on the highway, wouldn't complain how long they were waiting in a line...stuff like that.  The country was a kinder, gentler place.  It lasted about a month or two and then faded away.  Everyone has been saying how they are hugging their kids tighter...that is wonderful.  I think the best way to honor those poor babies that were murdered and their heartbroken parents that can never hug their children again is to continue to hold them tight and tell them how much you love them and don't stop in a month or two...but do it every chance you get!!  That is really honoring their legacy...not posting a poem on Facebook about how the children killed in the shooting are on a "field trip"... as a parent I found that offensive.  A field trip implies a special day trip, something they will return from at the end of the day.  These children are dead, they are not just at the zoo or museum...they are not coming back...sorry, my blog, my opinions.  So if you are a parent or have children in your lives in any capacity, or anyone loved one for that matter, take the time and do right by them.. EVERYDAY!!...you may not have a chance to make it up to them tomorrow.

I am not a perfect parent.  Chuck is not a perfect parent, but, I am so grateful that he is a very hands on, present father invested in parenting his girls.  Chuck and I were just talking about this recently.  About 80% of the time I am a really good mom.  20% not so much.  But I am working at changing that stat.  In my blog I go on and on about my kids, their crazy antics and how more often than not they drive me nuts but I have gone on record with this before...my hardest, longest, most challenging day as a mother is a 100 times better than my greatest day before I had children...

This is the WORST time of the year....and other mutterings heard lately

So the other night Sara declares that it is the worst time of the year.  I was asking why?   I honestly had no idea what she was getting at.  Chuck had her pegged instantly!  He says, "oh is it because you have to be good EVERY day until Christmas?"...yeah she says.   I guess that is just WAY to much for her to commit to.  Here are some other gems from the past few days...


*  Sara is really into rhyming lately.  She makes up little rhymes day and night.  The other day in the car she is really into it.  She was singing some song  she was making up as she went along.   Somehow the word "poor" comes up in her little diddy.  She then came up with poor, sore.  She continued to work out other words that rhymed with poor and sore and this is what she came up with "a poor, sore whore"...she went on and on singing this in all sorts of voices...low, high-pitched, ballad-like and even country and pop versions.  I literally had to bit my lip!!  It was flippin HYSTERICAL!!!

*  We are in the bathroom and I was cleaning a poop accident.  Though I really should not technically call it an accident since Anna knew full well what she was doing as she popped a squat in the corner....but back to the story...I was grumbling about how I really don't like changing poopy pants and Anna says I should like it...her "poop smells like a rainbow."  I am going to categorically disagree with her on that one.

*  Anna and the truth really are not friends.  Lately she lies...About anything...All the time...To our faces.  She had light pink pants on the other day.  She walks away and I notice the butt is bright pink.  Irrefutable evidence of having peed her pants.  I asked her if she peed.  She looked me right in the eye and said No.  I asked her if she were sure she didn't pee herself.  She says no and asks me if I want to feel her undies.  Sure enough, my eyes had not deceived me.  They were wet. I told her that I know she just told me a lie.  I asked her why she lied to me...she walked away shrugging and rolling her eyes.  She has no conscience.  Isn't that one of the criteria on the sociopath check list?  Just thinking out loud here but maybe I should consider locking the cats up....

*  Sara has been poking herself in the eye for about 2 years.  Every day.  Multiple times.  Lately she has also complained of her eyes hurting and watering.  I do the responsible thing and take her to the eye doctor.  5 of her 7 cousins have glasses and got them when they were young.  We talked to her about maybe having to get glasses.  Turns out her eyes are fine.  WHEW!!  Or at least you would think it was a relief.  NOPE!!  Sara was crying the whole way home because she can't get glasses...yelling at me "you never let me get anything I want."...like it is my fault she has good eyesight.  I guess I am a sh*tty mom for passing down good ocular genes.  A few days later she took her birthday money and bought herself some fashion glasses from Clares.

"It is OK if I pee on my raincoat.  Pee is kind of like rain..."  UMMM, no not really.  Name withheld to protect the innocent.

And last but not least...a knock knock joke from Anna....

Anna:  Mommy, Knock, Knock!

Me:  Who's there?

Anna:  I love you!!!

OK...she just bought herself a few more days....

The 40 year old mom

So it is official.  I am now 40 years old.  I have not been looking forward to this day at all.  And of course my kids help me ring in the new decade as only they can.  Anna decides last night that she is going to get in on the act.  She is going to start having night terrors and start sleep walking.  She had a night terror that lasted over an hour.  She was running all over the house, screaming and crying.  It was so sad.  But know what is even more heartbreaking?  Sara ended up sleeping with Chuck in our bed, Anna finally settled in on the couch at around 2:30 a.m. and I ended up falling asleep on the living room floor.  What a way to ring in the new decade!!

I know that everyone says, "40 is the new 20"..."40 is Fabulous"...etc...etc.  I know deep down that is all true but I can't get out of my head the idea that IF I live until 80 my life is half over.  If I don't make it to 80 my life is MORE than half over.  YUCK!!  In an effort to improve my odds I have been trying to get healthier...I did not quite make my quest of "40 by 40"...meaning losing 40 pounds by my 40th birthday but I did take a big bite out of that by losing 27 pounds!  Yay me!  Honestly, I don't think I look 40 and I don't feel like I act 40.   I still remember my sister throwing me a surprise 13th birthday party.  I can not get over the fact that was 27 years ago!!  It seems like just a few years ago.  Chuck knows that I have been having a really hard time accepting that I am turning the BIG 4-0 so he went to great lengths to help me start this new decade off right. If this past weekend was any indication I think I may just be OK.

So all I knew about the weekend was that we were going away overnight.  That I needed to take a vacation day on Sunday.  That I needed a dress and we were all set with a babysitter.  Other than that I was in the dark.  So last week I had to head out for the dreaded dress shopping excursion.  In an effort to keep my marriage and family together I went shopping alone.  Since I had some mild success at the Dress Barn last spring (the last time I wore a dress was for a wedding...remember that sh*t show?  If you need a refresher read my old blog posts...it is well documented!) I decided to start there.  Are you sitting down?  I found one!  IN RECORD TIME...45 minutes!  I actually found 2 that I could have gone with.  I have never had choices.  I usually just settle for something that doesn't look horrible.  In addition to losing the 27 pounds I have dropped 3 dress sizes since the wedding debacle.  I started Weight Watchers right after that nightmare.  It paid off!  I was able to wear a dress AND be comfortable.  Until this past weekend I never thought those 2 things could be done at the same time.  Huh, who knew? Chuck was shocked, SHOCKED when I came home, before lunch with a dress, shoes and jewelry.  It made for a much more pleasant afternoon than he had anticipated.

So Saturday morning comes, my dad comes and gets the girls and they drive off without a hitch.  Well, kind of...I leaned in to kiss Sara goodbye and she told me "I want to go to Bucka's to sleepover, but I don't want to go in his car, I want you to drive me there instead".  I answered with, "Yup, I know you do...not gonna happen." as I closed the car door and headed in the house and watched them drive away.  FREEDOM!!!!  So we head in town for lunch.  I am told I can pick either Chinese, Mexican or Spanish food.  The Chinese restaurant, though hip and on the waterfront was still Chinese food.  Something I can get anytime.  I do like Mexican but I am kind of particular about it....I am in the small percent of the population that thinks cilantro tastes like dirty dish water.  I want to enjoy my lunch, not have to pick out the small green bits.  I chose Spanish food (and yes my friends, they are 2 completely different things).  We park the car and stroll down Newbury Street.  It was so beautiful...the snow was softly falling and the white Christmas lights were twinkling.  It felt like we were dating!  We go to Tapeo for lunch and enjoy some delicious Sangria and tapas.  It reminded us of our best pre-kids vacation to Barcelona.  The tension and stress of day to day life was wearing off.  We were really starting to relax.  Lunch was done and it was on to the afternoon activity.  Again, I had a couple of things to choose from.  We went with an afternoon movie.  When we were in line for tickets we could not remember the last movie we saw in a theater....together...without kids.  Seriously, we could not remember.  I am sure at some point we did see a movie together but we are still drawing a blank.  We went to see Argo and it was glorious.  The movie was good but I did not have to sit in a contorted position with a leg across the adjacent seat in an attempt to hold it down so one of my girls doesn't collapse inside the seat.  I felt so FREE!!!

After the movie we head to the hotel to check in.  Pretty swanky... complimentary wine throughout the hotel...nice call Chuck!  We get to our room and get ready for dinner.   Me in my dress and Chuck in a jacket and tie!!  Yes, let that sink in for a minute.  Chuck and I consider ourselves amateur foodies (minus the pretentiousness).  We don't go out very often but when we do we do it right.  However, if you take the amount we spend on dinner and average it out over the course of 12 months we still spend less than most couples that go out on a regular basis.  For my birthday Chuck pulled out all the stops and we went to what has to be the fanciest restaurant in all of Boston...L'Espalier.  Let me describe the experience for you...through the eyes of someone that is not so fancy.  First, we open the door to the restaurant and you walk into a little cubby type space.  There a woman greets us with a fancy French accent asking if we had reservations.  We say we do and she instructs us to get into the elevator.  We do.  It takes her a minute to realize we don't know what floor we are going to.  Again, in her accent she tells us.  Up we go.  I do notice a plush chair in the elevator...Chuck comments that rich people get tired easy...they must need to sit on the long 2 floor ride up.  The elevator opens up to an elegant looking man, again with a French accent welcoming us, by name, to the restaurant.  Oh my...I can sense we are in for a treat.  I also sense, though I can not prove, that these two may not have been all that they seemed.  I have this feeling that the accents may not have been authentic.  In my mind I think the lady at the first door was really Carla from Eastie and the elegant man really may have been Sully from Southie and their conversation may have been slightly less elegant.  Please read this with a thick, overly stereotyping Boston accent...Once the elevator door closes  Carla calls up to Sully..."Hey, Sully...it's Cah-lah...just want to tell youz guys up the-air that weeze got two more a-holes comin up for ah-nutha wicked ova-priced dinnah"  Sully responds, "aw, that's fah-kin pissah Car-lah.".  The door opens and Sully greets us with his smooth, "Bonjour Mademoiselle and Monsuier L__________".  Not sure which is true, but my version is more fun.

So we sit down for dinner.  I look around and everyone is very fancy.  There was a gentleman there in a tuxedo.  Now normally if you are out to dinner at say at Bennigans or a Fridays and you see a guy come in with a tux on you automatically think they were in a wedding earlier in the day.  Nope, not here.  I think that is his normal Saturday night attire.  So we decide to go with a tasting menu.  It was about 10 courses of food, none of which I could identify.  You know it is fancy when you are not allowed to choose your own appetizer.  They just bring them to you because they know better.  They bring us these tiny little bits of food on a silver serving tray.  At first I was confused.  I thought that kids were not allowed in this place.  Why did they have Calico Critter food on my plate?  Were my kids hidden in the back making me dinner?  Nope, that was the real size of the food!!  With each course they had someone come out and explain what it was.  Which was not as helpful as you would think...with some of it I was even more confused when they told me what I was eating.  I did feel like I was a judge on Chopped or Iron Chef...I had cardomin ice-cream...lime something another with a champagne veil.  Not sure what it was but Chuck declared it the best champagne veil he has ever had.  We fell into the bread trap...which in their defense is genius.  In between each course they come around with fresh bread so you of course you take it.  I say it is genius because they give you these teeny-tiny portions yet you go home feeling full from all the bread.  It is a win-win...I guess.  One of the courses comes and no word of a lie it is 2 tiny cauliflower florets with 2 pearl onions in a big bowl.  Now at this point I have had 3 glasses of wine (ridiculously over priced wine...if I were to use the same amount of money for those 3 glasses of wine I could have bought 6 bottles of wine in the "real world"!)...so with the wine on board I am about to burst out laughing over my tiny portion, fortunately they came and added 2 ladles of rutabaga soup.  Have no fear my friends, I did not leave hungry...in the next course they gave me 3 halves of brussel sprouts.  Let me do the math for you...that is 1 1/2 brussel sprouts.  No wonder the French are so much thinner than Americans. Don't get me wrong the food was AMAZING and it was a really cool experience and had we won Powerball last week we may have become regulars...we even had a palette cleansing course before the desserts.   Or dessert-ettes I should say.  They were delicious but I would have preferred them to be a tad larger than Japanese Erasers.    The dinner came to an end and we were waiting for the elevator with "Le Sully" when Chuck buttons up his dinner jacket.  The button crumbles under his hand.  Yup, that is about right.  Just when we think we pull off this glamorous night of being the "beautiful people" something comes up and knocks us back to reality. 

So the weekend comes to an end after brunch at the hotel restaurant.  I swear that Captain Sully Sullenberg was 2 tables over from us.  Chuck didn't believe me but when we got home he googled him and now he thinks I was right.  We pick up the kids and head home.  Though we were only gone for a little bit more than 24 hours it felt like days.  Thank you to Chuck for giving me a much needed break from reality.  I LOVED it!!

So back to today...my actual birthday.  Sara and Anna told me that they wanted to do something special with me today for my birthday.  I asked what they were thinking.  They wanted to take me out to lunch at a restaurant.  But then Sara added they had 2 problems with their idea.  #1.  They can't drive and  #2.  They have no money.  So I had to drive and pay for my own birthday lunch.  Again, that seems about right.  Of course they had a special restaurant in mind.  Red Robin!  It is a burger place.  Just the place a vegetarian wants to celebrate a special event.  Of course Sara has an ulterior motive.  She tells me that Red Robin is right next to Claire's and that they have fashion glasses there.  You see Sara got some devastating news last week.  We took her to the eye doctor to see about her eye poking ways and she was told she did NOT need glasses.  She was heartbroken and lets me have it the whole way home..."You never let me get anything I want"... as if it is my "fault" her eye sight is fine.  I know, I am an awful mother...I should have scratched her eye or something before we went in to make her dreams come true.  So she has set her sights (pun intended) on a pair of fashion glasses...so I don't think she really cared about my birthday today...I think it was more of a means to an end.  So once again, despite today being a major and not very welcome milestone in my life...it is not about me.  Yes, I am now 40 years old...but I am a 40 year old MOM...and I guess that is what comes above all else.   Happy Birthday to me!!

At Last...

So I am just going to put it out there...I have a great husband.  I do.  I am not just saying that because he is most likely going to read this or because he just surprised me with an awesome birthday weekend.  I just do.  I waited a long time to find "Mr. Right".  32 years in fact.  But thanks to Dr. Neil Clark Warren I found him.  Yes, that Neil Clark Warren...the eharmony guy.  I remember sitting in a mediocre Italian restaurant on my 30th birthday with my parents, sister and sister-in-law with their kids and thinking...really?  This is really how I am spending my 30th birthday?  This really can't be my life.  This is more the opening of a sad movie.  Then I opened one of my birthday presents and it got worse.  It was a Swifer Wet Jet.  Not that I wasn't grateful for the mop but I thought..."WTF?!  If I am still single next year at this time please just take me out to some field and shoot me...please someone just put me out of my misery."   I took the mop home and spent the next few days contemplating my next move.  I got to thinking...I spent so much time researching what I wanted to do for a career, where I should go to school, where I should rent an apartment even which grocery store is the best, yet, I was leaving the biggest decision up to chance...hoping that some random stranger would sweep me off my feet.  Strangely that never happened.  I was working in a pediatric ER at the time.  Evenings.  3 Weekends a month.  Funny, that was not conducive to a love life.  Obviously my plan was not working.  Time to change things up.

Back to Dr. Warren...I had recently attended a Child Life Conference and he was one of the speakers...something about working effectively with different personalities.  He was a pretty interesting speaker...interesting in that I did not fall asleep while listening to him.  He was hawking his latest book afterwards, "Love the Life You Live".  On a whim I bought one.  Not really into all that self help, touchy feely stuff but the book kind of made sense.  In a nut shell...you are the one in charge of your happiness, or, "hey Erin...get off your ass, stop waiting for your Prince Charming to randomly ring your doorbell...ain't gonna happen so get yourself out there."

I decided to put as much effort into dating as I did every other aspect of my life.  "Don't let life happen to you...happen to life!"  Right Amy?  So I rolled my sleeves up and got down to business.  How at my age was I going to meet someone?  The bar scene was out.  My work schedule allowed me to visit bars on Tuesday afternoons.  Not quite sure but a guy hanging out at a bar on a Tuesday afternoon probably was there on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday afternoons too.  Not a path I wanted to go down.  I have my own issues...don't need an alcoholic on top of them.  Blind dates...been there and did that.  A LOT!!  Funny who people think would be a good match for you.  Turns out if you are single and your friends know someone single that is good enough for them.  I could write a whole post on my blind date debacles...but I will spare you.  Let's just say I think the staff at the Beer Garden in Southie may have thought I was a "working girl".  It was my go-to spot for blind dates.  It was easy, close to where I lived and I didn't have to think about it.  I had so many friends looking out for my love life I had a blind date at least once a week...so I was single-handedly keeping the Garden in business.  They would have been wise to install a revolving door for all the random dates I was meeting there.  Sadly, or luckily for me they all went nowhere.  One or two may have made it to a second date but that was the extent of it.  One guy talked about water the whole time....he was some type of water engineer.  I get it, water is important for the survival of the human race as a whole, but 2 hours in I didn't care if the worst drought in the world was upon us...I would have rather died of dehydration than heard one more fact about water.  Another guy was such a soft talker that I spent the entire time saying, "pardon me?", "excuse me?", "come again?".  Turns out I had agreed to a second date with him without knowing it.  I guess I didn't hear him ask.  They all had some fatal flaw.  Even though 8% of blind dates end in marriage I decided to cut my losses...that I was more likely in the 92% of blind dates that end in misery.

So I went to a Christmas party.  I finally had a Friday night off, had a cute dress on and was having a great time at the party.  It is about 10 pm and the party breaks up.  Most of the revelers head home with their spouses to tend to their children or the ones there with a date head out to continue their fabulous evening.  So here I am at 10:30 on a Friday night, home alone with pretty party hair, party makeup and a decent buzz. What to do, what to do?  I end up online.  I look up my old friend Dr. Neil Clark Warren.  I am going to "Love the Life I Live" if it f*cking kills me!!!  I stumble across his dating service eharmony.com.  Keep in mind this is 8 years ago.  Online dating was still relatively new and still somewhat taboo.  It is what creepy losers do.  Right?  In my tipsy state I sign up and fill out my personality profile.  It took a couple of hours to fill it out and by then my buzz was starting to wear off.  Oh my God!!!  Was I a creepy loser? I didn't think so.  Yeah I was single at 30 years old, but, I thought I was a nice, normal girl that just happened to not have found anyone to spend my life with yet.  That to me was much more acceptable than being a creepy loser.  I was sticking to my rationale instead.  I clicked on "post profile" and left it up to chance....

I woke up the next day, completely sober and didn't immediately remember the previous night's activities.  That was until I opened up my email.  I saw that I had a few matches from eharmony.  Huh?  Oh right!!  I joined last night in my wine fueled feeling sorry for myself fest.  I was going to delete the emails but curiosity got the best of me.  I opened them and my life was about to change.  I jumped in with both feet.  I was going to be serious about this dating thing.  I took it on as if it were a part time job.  I went on a ton of dates via eharmony.  They were all great guys...just no spark.  I was starting to think that Dr. Neil was on to something.  All of the matches made sense and could see why we were matched.  But I just didn't feel that connection I was hoping for.  This went on for about 9 months.  I was either up on Federal Hill or the East Side of Providence at least once a week.  Meanwhile I decided that I needed a bit more of a shakeup in my life.  I felt like things were getting stale.  I decided to move across state lines and take a job in Salem.  I took a short 3 month break from dating while I got my new life in order on the North Shore.  Have no fear though my friends, I only put my online membership on hold....I didn't delete it entirely.

Once I was settled in I was ready to pick up my little sociology experiment.  I went on a few dates within my new geographical range.  It was a nice way to get to see the restaurant scene in my new neighborhood.  Still no one really jumping out at me.  That was all about to change.  It was a Saturday afternoon and I was meeting one of my matches for lunch.  I grabbed some "broken in" jeans (or slightly unwashed if you will) and threw on a sweater.  I didn't put much thought into my outfit.  It was just a first lunch date with a younger guy that I suspected answered all of his questions the way he thought a girl would want them to be answered.  Yeah right, a 29 year old guy who wants a family, a quiet life and to settle down.  MMM, yeah sure.  (Hey just thinking out loud here, I am 3 years older than him.  How much of an age difference does there need to be for me to be considered a cougar?  As of tomorrow I am going to be 40 and he is going to be 36 for about 3 more weeks.  Does that count?)  But for some reason I was intrigued by his profile.  Plus, it was just a quick bite to eat.  I had to go grocery shopping because the next day I was hosting my annual "Lonely Hearts Club Un-Valentine's Day Party".  I pull up a few blocks from the restaurant (online dating tip...don't park where the potential suitor can see your car...you don't want them knowing your car just in case they turn out to be a stalker...you're welcome).  I head into the restaurant and see this guy sitting down in the lobby.  He stands up and smiles at me and I am done.  Chuck has this beautiful warm smile that lights up a room.  One look at it and I was smitten.  I am not saying it was love at first sight.  I personally think love is something that grows over time, but I knew this was going to be something different.

We had an awful lunch of fried pickles, but it didn't matter.  We continued our date walking all through downtown Salem just talking and laughing.  It was a good 5 hours before I remembered I needed to get to the grocery store for what I now knew was going to be my final Un-Valentine's day bash.  I remember getting in my car and calling my sister in law to tell her my good news, that I met the person I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with.  She told me and I quote, "yeah, don't get your hopes up".  I showed her!!  So we started spending a lot of time together and eventually I stayed over his place for the first time.  I didn't know it then but turns out my future husband has a sleepwalking problem.  I remember being at his place in a sound sleep when all of the sudden he stands up in the bed and walks over me.  Literally steps on my stomach and keeps walking.  I am thinking, "Friggin serves you right Erin, you meet a guy online of course he is going to murder you."  Thankfully he did not kill me that night and we eventually we went on to get married and have two beautiful little girls that you all hear about all the time.  Oh, and he was completely honest in his profile...he really did want all the same things I did.

I kind of joke that I got Chuck on sale.  I purchased the 9 month package from eharmony...worked out to $19.99 a month.  Chuck only joined for a month at $59.00.  Even still I think he got a bargain with me!!  Ha- Ha...I am sure as he reads this he is making a comment in his head about a "bargain basement" or something similar.  If it were not for Dr. Neil Clark Warren invited to speak at the Child Life Council Conference all those years ago you may not be reading this blog right now.  I may have remained a "Lonesome Loser" forever.  Not that single people are Lonesome Losers..that is a reference to a song my sister wanted to play for me at her wedding.  Thanks Jen!  Since joining eharmony over 8 years ago I personally know of 10 relationships  still going strong that have started as a result of online dating.  Some of them a direct result of seeing the success Chuck and I had.  So I guess I was a forward thinker of my time.  A pioneer if you will.  I think that may just qualify me for a Nobel Prize.  I will keep my eyes peeled for my prize notification. 

How it all began...

So Anna turned 3 the other day.  My "baby" is 3!!  How did that happen?  Life is going by way too fast and I always say "YES!" when Anna asks me if I miss my Anna baby. I am turning 40 in a few days (GROSS!) so unless Chuck and I hit the big Power-ball Jackpot on Wednesday and use our winnings to adopt some kids we are done having babies.   So the past couple of days have got me thinking about how it all began...

I got married a little later than most and we were hoping to start our family right away.  I knew that the odds were not in my favor since it was the first month but I was hopeful nonetheless.  I came home from work with an awful headache.  I went to take something for it but I thought what if I am pregnant?  I did feel a little dizzy in the playroom earlier in the day and I threw up a little in my mouth on the shuttle bus.  Or did I?  Was I just imagining these things because I wanted it so bad?  Maybe I shouldn't take anything.  I decide to take a test knowing full well that it was going to be negative.   Chuck thought I was nuts.   But that is par for the course.  I take the test, leave it on the counter in the bathroom, set the kitchen timer and wait.  The buzzer goes off and Chuck gets to the bathroom first and I hear this sound. Nothing I had ever heard come from him before.  I guess the best way to describe it is kind of like a gasp.  I head in to see what the commotion was.  He holds the stick up and clear as day I see the word, "Pregnant".  I stopped in my tracks.  Nothing much was said after that.  We kind of avoided each other and eye contact was non-existent.  I think we both knew in that one instant our lives had changed forever.  We were going to be parents...our lives were going to be enriched by the pitter patter of little feet, we were going to have a child that we would be able to impart all kinds of wisdom upon, that we were now going to live the all American Dream.  YEAH RIGHT!!!  I am confident that we were both thinking, "What the hell did we just do?".  OK, I know exactly what we did.  For 2 weeks straight we put all of our efforts into becoming a family so much so that there may have been an occasion when technically I may have been asleep...

But here I was pregnant.  I found out very early so I had a LONG way to go...a long, long way to go.  I started off with a local OB.  Just gonna put it out there; she was AWFUL!  I vomited for the first 15 weeks.  Everyday, all day!  Everything I ate came right back up.  When I brought it up to her she said, "well my sister puked up until the day she delivered"..really? That was her professional, medical response.  My response was to think, "Oh, she had a sh*tty doctor too?".  So for that and several other reasons I switched practices.  I was much happier.  After the puking was under control I had a very uneventful pregnancy...  Just the typical pregnancy stuff.  I did have a bout with plantar fasciitis. Not going to sugar coat it...I was enormous when I was pregnant.  Like I said before, I thought I was a cute pregnant lady in my head.  In reality I was gigantic.  One morning I woke up with the sun shining in my face, heard the birds chirping and I was thinking how life was beautiful.  I stood up to get out of bed and I had unbelievable pain in my foot.  My first thought?  Holy Sh*t!  I am so fat my foot broke under my own weight!!  I was horrified at that thought.  Of course I was home alone and had to hobble/waddle my fat ass to the doctor.  Turns out my foot was not broken, just a case of plantar fasciitis due to my "extreme weight gain" and wearing flip flops.  So going forward I was going to have to stuff my feet into sneakers.

Speaking of my enormous belly...not only did it nearly break my foot it caused "logistical" problems if you will.  Chuck constantly refers to my T-Rex arms...he thinks they are disproportionately short.  Like Cee-Lo Green if you will.  I don't agree but he is so insistent...he even shared his opinion with my nephew on Thanksgiving and man did he think that was funny.  Back to the big belly and short arms.  That is a set up for failure for one very crucial aspect of daily living.  Wiping my ass.  Yup, I said it.  I would dread going to the bathroom because every time I knew I was going to have to contort, stretch and reach into ungodly positions in order to take care of business.  Again, Chuck delighted in this and would always say, "I wash myself with a rag on a stick" when I would come out of the bathroom.  It may be a line from some obscure movie...he is good for that...but either way, it was funny once but ran its course after about the thousandth time.  Oh and my friend Amy heard of my plight and sent me a link for an ass wiper.  Yes!  There is such a thing.  Turns out this is a problem for many...I clicked on the link and was fascinated.  And to be quite honest I never laughed so hard.  I did my own Google search (which I am sure some of you will now too) and I was surprised to find out there is a whole cottage industry dedicated to cleaning asses world wide.  I will wait while you go look it up........

OK, so back to my story.  The rest of my pregnancy was uneventful until my 39 week appointment.  I went in and things were good.  I was about to step on the elevator and the nurse practitioner came running out and announced I wasn't going anywhere.  I had very high blood pressure and needed to be induced. Great.  It was Game one of the World Series...something the Red Sox don't do often so it was a big deal.  Oh, did I mention my hospital was right down the street from Fenway Park?  It was going to make for an awesome amount of traffic for poor Chuck.  He might not make it to the delivery in time!  Those sentiments would come back to bite me.  So I get all set in my room, Chuck makes it in and they induce me at 7 p.m. on Thursday night.  My contractions start getting pretty strong around 9.  But I could handle them so far.  I did have a birth plan in mind.  It included a traditional medical setting with as much stainless steel and antiseptic as possible.  I also had a plan to take as much pain medication as humanly possible.  In fact, if they could have placed the epidural at month 8 just to be ready I would have been all for that.  I wouldn't have a tooth taken out without anesthesia and that is about one millionth the size of a baby if you think for one minute I would have a baby pulled out of me without anesthesia then you are crazy.  I take a Tylenol at the first sign of a headache for God's sake.  So I say bring on the meds!!  I, however, had the one hippie nurse in all of the hospital.  I was asking for something to take the edge off...something, anything...it could be a flippin Tylenol, just something.  You know what she suggests?  A hand massage.  Betcha never would have guessed that.  She is doing a hand massage on me and teaching Chuck how to give me one. Hey lady, guess what?  Not my friggin hand that hurts.  She left and I took one look at Chuck and gave him the look as if to say, "you touch my hand that will be the last thing you ever do in this life".  I made it 24 hours without pain meds.  Yes...I said 24 hours!!  I finally got my epidural at 24 hours in.  At about 12 hours in I got this wonderful, magical cocktail known as Nubain.  It was when  a normal nurse came on.  Thank God the hippe and her magic crystals went off shift.  Back to the Nubain...It was just enough to take the edge off.  I still felt all the contractions but I didn't care! Kind of like when you have 1 too many glasses of wine and you bang your knee really hard.  You feel it but you don't give a sh*t.  You just laugh it off with your friends like it is the funniest thing that ever happened to you.  A little side note, I think at the time of discharge when you are taking your newborn home your doc should give you a prescription for Nubain refillable 12 times a year for the next 18 years.  That way you can just laugh off all the craziness that is motherhood.  Wouldn't that be  awesome?  But I digress...That was the Nubain.  It doesn't last too long though.  But it was enough to let me rest.  Because apparently 24 hours of labor is not enough.  Oh no my friends...I had a ways to go yet.

So like I said at the 24 hour mark I get the epidural.  It was magical!  It was on a pump delivering the medication continually.  I also had a button I could push every 9 minutes if I felt I needed a little more.  I wasn't feeling anything at this point and I wanted to keep it that way so every 9 minutes on the dot I pushed that button.  It would make a slight beeping noise.  Well Chuck thought that was a bit excessive, he thought if I wasn't feeling anything then I really didn't need the "extra" so I had to disguise it.  So now on top of clock watching I needed to make sure I had a cover.  I would push it and simultaneously cough or ruffle my sheets making sure to mask the little beeping noise.

I was feeling good.  What I wasn't feeling were my legs.  You could have driven an ice pick through them and I would not have flinched.  Great!  Along with that though came the inability to move my legs.  The hospital I was at was a teaching hospital.  Fine, I am all for higher education.  What I was not fine with was a parade of people coming in, pulling the sheets up and getting extremely intimate with me, then discussing my progress all the while not moving the sheets back over my "area".  There was nothing I could do.  I was so numb and we have already established I have T-Rex arms so all I could do was lay there with it all hanging out as they taught the med students about the stages of labor.  This is not the stuff they tell you about in "What to Expect When Expecting".  I had an IV in my arm, heart monitor on my chest, pulse ox on my finger, oxygen mask on my face, a urine catheter and a probe on the baby's head.. for the record she was still inside of me so use your imagination on how THAT was attached.  Not the pretty "Facebook ready" ladies I see on The Baby Story.    I swear someday I am going to write a book called, "What to REALLY Expect when Expecting!"

So I am now 35 hours in.  It is Saturday morning.  I have been in labor since Thursday evening!!    The crew parades back in and announces, "We need to talk about other ways of getting this baby out."  Other ways?  I'm not a doctor or nurse but I am only aware of 2 ways...the traditional way and a C-section.  What the hell did they have up their sleeve?  They then bring up the idea of a c-section.  They do it ever so delicately as if not to crack a fragile egg.  I told them I didn't care if they had the janitor come in and take the baby out...just get it out.  I waved the white flag hours ago.

So off to the OR we go.  Then they give me some gross drink to neutralize my stomach in case I had eaten anything recently.  Hmmm....let's see...I have been here since THURSDAY FRIGGIN NIGHT....it is now SATURDAY!!  I think my belly is clear.  As soon as I swallowed it I puked it right up.  All over my self because I was a load of jelly from all the anesthesia I had pumping through my body.  (Truth be told when I went to deliver Anna I took a tiny sip and threw most of it away...and guess what?  we both survived!!)  I get on the operating table and they get to work.  I get this unbelievable case of the shakes.  I was terrified that I was shaking so bad that my scar would be this weird Frankenstein zig-zag.  My teeth were chattering so hard I thought they would shatter, that I would have a beautiful baby to hold up in the pictures but I would have a smile resembling that of a crystal meth addict.  Fortunately my teeth held up.  Again, this is common for a c-section but surprisingly that was left out of the book.  Despite all the pain meds dripping into my spine I felt way more than I should have.  They were going to put me out completely but it was only going to be another few minutes and I told them I wanted to be awake...we didn't know what we were having and I really wanted to be awake for that.  Finally!!!  It's a girl!!!  Chuck said, "It's Sara!!!" I saw her for a quick second and the next thing I knew I could hear myself snoring very loudly.  They then snowed me with meds to finish the surgery.  I finally got to see baby Sara a few hours later after she briefly visited the NICU to get an IV and some quick tests because I had a fever.  It was amazing!!  It was worth every second of pain to hold her for the first time.  I was her mom.  Forever!!  We spent the next four days in the hospital getting to know each other.  Basking in the glory of mesh underwear (fellow mommies know what I am talking about!), napping while Sara hung out in the nursery and just getting ready to go home as a family.

Reality quickly set in once we got home but despite all the craziness we did it again two years later when we added Anna Banana to our family.  Like I said at the start of the entry, that was 3 years ago!  My baby is 3!!  I wish I could slow life down and keep them little forever!  At the same time I love the little ladies they are becoming.   Hopefully we will win Powerball tomorrow and we can afford to adopt more children because even though my blog may not always show it...I love my kids more than anything and I am so lucky to be their mom.

Is that poop or Cocoa Puffs?

Sadly that is not just a clever blog title...those are words that were uttered in our home recently...On more than one occasion if I am to be completely honest.  There were some questionable, brown balls on the floor.  Fortunately they turned out to be cocoa puff...this time!   Some other funny things that have been overheard lately...

*   "My muh-gina is going to smell like pink lemonade"  after Anna put on some new, bright pink underwear.  Um...huh?

*  Sara, "Mom, you should be our babysitter instead of mom...that way you can get paid."  Wouldn't that be nice...

*  "Mom you never let me do anything I want."  After I wouldn't let Anna squish my boobs at McDonald's.

*  After carefully inspecting her poop Anna dejectedly lowers her shoulders and very sadly says, "OH Mom!  I really wanted it to be corn poop."

*  I asked the girls what they were thankful for this year.  Sara immediately said she knew what she was thankful for; her friends.  That was sweet.  She then listed her cousins, cats and toys.  Funny, me, Chuck and Anna didn't make the cut this year.  When I asked Anna she said, "Scott Brown because he is our Senator".  Aww...I didn't have the heart to tell her that he lost the recent election and with the new senator elect we really don't have much to be thankful for in terms of politics in this state...but I digress..

Oh and again, neither of my children listed their parents on their list of thankfulness.  Hmmm...I will have to work on that for next year.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!!

Let's Stay Together?

"Let's disband...This family is a failed experiment."  That was my husband's words of wisdom tonight.  My reaction?  To burst out laughing while reading "Going on a Bear Hunt" to Anna.  It is so true!!  Marriage and procreation  in essence is just a study in sociology.  An odd social experiment if you will.  I agree with Chuck, most times I feel like I have failed.  Not through any fault of my own.  My kid's mission's in life is to make me feel like I know nothing.  I know deep down that we are good parents...I am going to go out on a limb and even say very good parents but as with any scientific experiment their are control groups and variables.  We have two very volatile variables.  Their names are Sara and Anna.  

I was a preschool teacher for a number of years, I have worked with moms in prison, facilitated parent nurturing groups and worked with children and families in the health care setting for about 13 years.  When it comes to kids...I got this.  YEAH RIGHT!!!  When it comes to other people's kids I got it.  When it comes to mine all bets are off!! 

Typically the girls and I have a good routine.  Our days lately have been filled with playing school, enjoying the last bits of nice weather, sewing projects and just enjoying each others company.  Notice I said "our days..."  Our evenings are a bit different.  Once the sun goes down  all hell breaks loose.  I have never seen any of the Twilight movies, Walking Dead or any of those other vampire movies so I am not sure how it all works, but,  I am not entirely convinced my children are not demons.  We have a pretty standard routine that starts at 7 p.m.  Last snack and a show until 7:30.  I read them each a story, bathroom break and brush teeth and off to bed at 8.  Anna is almost always on board, some nights she even asks to go to bed before 8.  NICE!!!  Sara on the other hand turns into Sybil. She constantly interrupts dragging out the whole process, she insists EVERY night that she doesn't need to pee.  She slams the bathroom door EVERY night when I tell her she needs to try then, she grumbles about not being tired, she isn't ready for bed etc, etc....when she finally realizes I am not going to back down she stomps up the bunk bed ladder giving me the stink eye.  Then it is another few minutes of her complaining out loud about the atrocities committed against her.  I am lucky in the fact that both of them are asleep before 8:30 99% of the time and they sleep until 7 a.m.  It is all the drama that precedes bedtime every night.  It is exhausting!!

Tonight we strayed from our nightly routine.    What the hell were we thinking?  We "ruined everything" according to Sara.  What was our crime you ask?  We were trying to make them happy.  Shame on us!!!  They wanted to play school for a few more minutes and I let them.  They each had a turn being the teacher and Chuck and I were the students.  Sara read her book to us and then Anna.  Well, Anna was ridiculously funny and cute when reading her book.  Chuck made the ultimate faux pas and laughed.  Well that was it...Anna gets upset and puts her head down and crumples with embarrassment.  I suggest she pick a different book after she complains Chuck ruined it.  So she does and I smiled at one part in the story and she goes off on me for smiling.   My kids love to put on elaborate shows for us and they really get into it.  They are so cute but if we pull out the camera, show any sign of enjoyment they immediately scowl and look at us like we are the A-holes.  I have learned to keep a poker face in order to keep the peace but Chuck has yet to learn that lesson.  We are 5 years in and he hasn't made the connection...laughing results in a 20 minutes cry fest. 

So we recover from Anna's meltdown and I start to read them their bedtime story.  I had previously stated that we could play school for a little bit longer and then I was going to read 1 story that I was picking and they both agreed.  Silly me, I believed they would hold up their end of the bargain.  Once Sara realized (about 2 pages in of Bear Hunt) that I was not reading a book she chose she fell apart.  If anyone had walked into our house at that exact moment you would have thought she was reacting to finding out she eventually will grow up and have to move away from mommy and daddy.  It was THAT dramatic!!! 

So long story short...I agree with Chuck.  This experiment  has disproved our hypothesis that we would be the BEST PARENTS EVER.  Turns out we are exceptionally adequate...but I think we should hold off on disbanding just yet...because in my non-scientific observations I think that is better than most parents I have seen lately.

The world according to Anna

Anna talks all day long and I could listen to her all day long.  She cracks me up and is one funny little kid.  She has a wicked sense of humor for someone so young, but the stuff she says when she isn't trying to be funny that is her best material.  Here are some of her latest examples...

*Anna mispronounces the word litter.  She calls it glitter.  On Mondays we go for a walk around the block before her playgroup starts.  There is a lot of litter on that block.  Each week she is stunned by it.  Stunned!  "Oh Mommy!  LOOK!  Someone glittered!  There is glitter everywhere!  That isn't nice to throw glitter.  Who would throw glitter on the ground?  Mommy, it is probably the teenage boys....teenage boys love to throw glitter out.  Mommy, why do the teenage boys like to throw glitter?"

Now there is a tiny little back story about placing the blame on the teenage boys...and it may just be my fault.  Actually, it is entirely my fault.  One time a few years back Sara and I were in a parking lot and there was a takeout container dropped on the ground.  Sara asked a million questions about it; why was it there?  how did it get there? how long had it been there?  I got tired of the questions and I just absentmindedly made something up and said it must have been teenage boys.  Well it stuck with her and she passed the urban legend about the teenage boys along to her little sister.  Now Anna and Sara blame all the world's ills on the poor teenage boys.  Graffiti...teenage boys.  Broken window...teenage boys.  A shopping cart not properly corralled in the cart return...teenage boys.  Right or wrong I go with it.  I am thinking long term this may be to my benefit.  They are going to have such and aversion to teenage boys that when they are preteens and are supposed to be interested in them they will dismiss them as insignificant hooligans.   Little did I know on that night a few years back I was laying the ground work to save Chuck and I many sleepless nights fretting over our girls becoming interested in boys.  You're welcome Chuck!

Back to Anna and her funny ways....

Anna likes to pretend she is a kitty.  She will put on some kitty ears and crawl around meowing.  She really gets into it, but, fortunately for me she always reassures me that she is not a real cat...she is still Anna, just pretending.  Every single time I get the reminder as if I may actually think she is really a cat.

Her problem solving skills are second to none.  Sara always wants to play with her and Anna wants to play too but never wants to play what Sara wants.  So she will say, "OK Sara, we can play animals for a really long time and then we will play dress up for a little bit."  So they play animals for a really long time and then when Sara says they have to play dress up now Anna backs out of the deal.  Sara falls for this EVERY TIME!! This is a daily occurrence in our house.  Oh!, and another funny thing Anna does to Sara (though I am sure Sara will not agree it is funny) Anna will ask if she wants to play or do something and Sara will say "no".  Anna then will say, "Oh, good you want to play"...Sara gets pissed and reminds her she said no and Anna will go on and on saying "you said yes, I heard you.  Mommy Sara wants to play with me..she told me she did."  Sara gets PISSED and Anna just keeps egging her on with a straight face the whole time.  Again, Sara falls for this everyday.

Anna is going to be 3 in a few weeks and I keep saying I can't believe how big she is getting.  She sweetly comes over and asks me if I miss my Anna baby...

Every night before bed I tell her that there are so many kids in the world but I have the best two kids and that I am so lucky to be her mom and every night she responds with, "I am so lucky to be an Anna"...not "I am so lucky to be YOUR Anna"...just "an Anna".  It cracks me up every night.  And yes, I miss my Anna baby!!!

Say it ain't sew....

Sara has learned how to hand sew.  She wanted to make a blanket for her Barbie so we took an old T-shirt and made a few flimsy sleeping bags.  She graduated to mending Chuck's old socks and was really looking for bigger and better projects.  Her birthday was coming up so I thought that as a way to encourage and foster her budding talent we should get her a sewing machine.  I did all the research, opting for a real machine vs. a kids (the reviews said the toy ones were crap, to just get a small, inexpensive real sewing machine).  I found a decent one and had Chuck order it.  I also got a box full of fabric, buttons, ribbons, scissors, pins, pin cushions and tape measure.

Her birthday came and we gave her the sewing machine.  She was thrilled.  That night I sat with her and we both learned how to use it.  The last time I actually used a sewing machine was in my 7th grade Home-Economics class.  That was a long time ago my friends.  I have no sewing abilities and the night before her birthday while talking with a coworker I realized I never bought thread for the machine...slight oversight on my part.  But I digress...so after Sara's party we came home and set up a little sewing circle.  We made sleeping bags for her dolls and a pillow stuffed with Chuck's old shirts.  The next night I stopped at Wal-Mart on my way home from work to get some more sewing accoutrement. I figured we were having a "hurricane day" and would be stuck inside all day... I got real pillow stuffing and in my cockiness I got a pattern for a vest.  .  I am terrible at math, just ask Ms. D.  I had to take her Algebra I class two years in a row.  I had to learn how to read a pattern and then teach it to Sara.  We used her measuring tape in an effort to learn new math skills, we learned how to pin the fabric and how to sew in a lining.  So in a 36 hour time frame we learned the basics of using a sewing machine, made 2 doll sleeping bags, 3 pillows, a purse and a vest.  Not bad.

Sara wore her vest to school and really enjoyed the attention she got from her teachers.  She was on a roll.  She came home from preschool asking to make a dress.  Really?  OK, the house was clean and I had nothing else to do so we headed to Joann's Fabrics.  It is like the Promised Land of the sewing subculture.  I was so overwhelmed.  There had to be 10,000 fabrics to choose from.  I head over to the pattern area.  At Wal-Mart they were just out on a rack.  Here they were hidden away and you needed to follow some obscure numbering system reminiscent of the Dewey Decimal system.  I was not privy to the secret of unlocking the pattern code so I asked 2 ladies that were somehow able to navigate the drawers and drawers filled with old dusty envelopes that look like they have been in there since the 70's.  They both kind of looked at me like a fish out of water.  I know I did look a bit out of place in my jeans and v-neck sweater.  I should have worn the requisite elastic waist woven knit pants with a green turtle neck and applique vest which appears to be the universal outfit of the sewing set...maybe then they would have accepted me into their world.  They did finally help me understand the organizational ways of Butterick and McCalls.  Sara kept finding very complicated patterns that included pleats, bows, zippers and other things way beyond our skill set.  I got her to finally settle on a very simple  A- line smock dress...it was in the "Under 2 hours" section.  You already know how this is going to end....and it is WAY LONGER than 2 hours. 

We head over to the fabrics and Sara is in her glory.  Her first choice was no word of a lie Gold Lame.  All I could think of was the show Solid Gold and the black dancer with the super long hair.  I am sure all of her clothes were cut from this cloth.  Disappointed she moved on to the sheer, sparkly section...it took some convincing that was not a great choice since it was see-through.  After listening to her complain that I never let her get anything she wants she settled on a soft pink fabric (the same on both sides for mommies convenience when lining it up).  We get some Cheetah print fabric at Anna's request and some big, clunky diamond buttons and head home.

We (Sara and I) spend the next 6 hours measuring, cutting, pinning and sewing her dress.  A few bumps in the road...for the life of me I could not line up the front piece and back piece properly....again, the math so I just re-cut 2 of the same pieces and voila, they magically fit...(I bought 2 extra yards of material knowing that I was going to need it for mistakes I was going to inevitably make) but we got it done and she was thrilled with her masterpiece.  She wore it the next day and again loved the attention.  It really has boosted her self esteem and she is talking much more in class.  I want to encourage this talent but there is no way in hell I am going to be making new outfits 4 days a week.

With my kids I never do anything for the glory or praise I am going to get.  Anyone with kids knows that they really don't care about the back story of your parenting...they don't care about all the thought and consideration that goes into your decisions, the life lessons you want to instill or the planning and care that goes into the day to day life you provide them.  As long as their needs are met and they are happy that is all that matters to them and it should be that way.  HOWEVER, in this one case I came up with the idea of teaching her to sew, then graduating to a real machine that I researched, gathered all of the other supplies and spent hours bent over the little table teaching her, and myself how to sew...and guess who gets all the glory?

Drum roll please.....CHUCK!!!  Yes, technically he did click "purchase" on the website link I sent him but that is where his participation began and ended.  But Sara keeps saying that he is the best daddy ever for getting her a new sewing machine.  WTF!!!!

On a side note I told Chuck that if we wanted to we could have 19 kids because I am now a master of the smock dress and on all those TLC shows that is what they wear. I made one for Anna that even has pockets.  Or we could start our own fringe religion because they usually all dress alike in smock dresses.  Isn't the end of the world coming next month?  If anyone is interested in coming over to ring in the end of times just let me know your measurements and I will have Sara whip one up for you.  Bring your own Nike's and we will be good to go!!

I bleep you not!

OK, I am sure you are all sick of my Market Basket posts but I sh*t you not the story you are about to read is real.  Every week I have some MB issue but like a moth to a flame I am drawn back week after week.  I think it is much like a car wreck.  You know it is going to be bad but you look anyway.  I know deep down that Market Basket is going to be bad but I go anyway...

This week the shopping trip itself was fine.  No bumps in the road there.  It was the check out process that was sheer disaster.  One of the things I really like about The Basket is that they hire people with special needs.  That is important to me and I want to support them for that...it is a big part of the reason I make the long drive every Thursday.  I usually have the patience of a saint when they are bagging my groceries...I build in an extra few minutes to my budgeted grocery shopping time to accommodate this.  However I was not prepared for what happened this past Thursday...

I specifically go on Thursday mornings because I have a window of opportunity to go with just 1 child at a time when the store is not super busy and when I never have to wait in a check out line.  Typically at that time of day they are waiting around for someone to come into their lane.  It is common for the bagger to stand at the top of the line, lure you in and start helping unload your groceries onto the conveyor belt.  It gives you a jump start on processing your order and I am sure it mixes things up for them a bit, combating the boredom they must encounter at the slower times of the day.

So one of the baggers, who in my head I refer to as Chatty Cathy because she never stops talking to me, the cashier or even herself when no one else is listening, flags me down.  I think she is there to help me unload my cart, oh no my friends, she has bigger plans for me.  She tells me that she is a cashier now and that today was her first day in this new role.  SH*T!!!  I only have an extra 5 minutes budgeted to get my order processed, have Anna take a ride on Old Yeller (the mechanical ride she earns for behaving...that only works 50% of the time), the 20 minute ride home, unpacking the fridge and freezer items before heading to pick Sara up from school.  I am doomed.  I can feel it...

So she does a pretty decent job of getting my order through in a respectable time frame.  I then bring out my coupons...I am back in my coupon faze, I have bright red hair to prove it!!  L'Oreal was on sale AND I had a $2 off manufacturer's coupon.  Can't beat that no matter the color!  I saved $6.50 this week, it was supposed to be $6.90 but that part of the story is coming a bit later.  So she takes my 7 coupons and looks them all over, intently studying them if you will, much like the passport control people at JFK post 9/11.  She pulls one out of the group and in a kind of stern voice tells me that "this one expires tomorrow".  "Mmm-huh" I say, "that is why I am using it today"...she goes on to tell me that she likes to make sure that they are not expired.  I wanted to tell her that if she tried to swipe them through and they were expired they would be rejected, but I thought better of it and bit my tongue.  She then goes on to ask her bagger to look for each individual item I had a coupon for.  Keep in mind that half of my groceries were already bagged!!  She didn't care.  She wanted to do her due diligence and see each item in the flesh.  This time I did tell her that if the item was not already purchased and she scanned a coupon it would not be accepted.  She said, yes, she knew that but she just likes to double check for herself.  I just dejectedly put my head down and waited for her to visually confirm the previously bagged items.  Lest, I try to pull the wool over her eyes and get thirty five cents off of bread I didn't really buy.

She is done.  I pay and turn to push my groceries out of the store.  Not as easy as you would think because somewhere along the line the bagger disappeared.  While I was proving to the cashier I was not misusing my coupon privilege the bagger went MIA.  So now I had to finish bagging the stuff myself, which in the long run is probably to my benefit...I made sure to evenly distribute the glass jars and not load 9 of them in the same bag while giving syrup its own bag.

I was walking away when I was summoned back to checkout lane 5.  Apparently she missed a coupon.  She was apologizing profusely and told me to take it to the courtesy booth where they would redeem it for me.  I told her no worries.  I would just use it another time.  She begged me, even used "please, please go and turn it in".  I told her not to worry, I wouldn't tell anyone that she missed it (except all the blog readers) and that I would not complain and I promised to use it next week.  She was devastated.  I finally lied and told her I was going right over and turn it in.  I wanted to make sure she was able to sleep that night and not fret over the 40 cents I overpaid for my Land O Lakes margarine...

Can't wait to see what next Thursday brings.


Oh, here is a link to the People of Market Basket website.  For those of you not in the MB catchment area you can log on and get a glimpse into the wonderfulness that is "The Basket"....

http://www.peopleofmb.com/

Speechless

So Sara has learned how to "sew".  She can sew a somewhat straight line and has turned a bunch of old T-shirts into Barbie sleeping bags.  She has also fixed Chuck's socks that had holes.  Well about an hour ago Sara told me there was a little hole in the table cloth  she wanted to sew.  This was news to me but I told her she could do it after lunch.  I just walked into the kitchen and noticed that the tablecloth was shredded.  No little hole!!  I also noticed a pair of purple kids scissors on the table.  Apparently Edward Scissorhands was a little too eager to sew.  Of course the one time I need to come across stern I get a case of the giggles.  I ask what happened and I said I really wanted the truth.  She goes on about Anna needing paper...never mentioning what happened to the table cloth.  I ask her if she cut it with the scissors and again, I wanted the truth.  Totally straight faced she says, "I told you I wanted to do a sewing project so I cut it and now I can sew it up again"...

I have nothing else to say.  I am speechless.

A tisket, a tasket...I went shopping at the Basket

Trust me, the trip did not disappoint!  If you have been following my blog you know  I have a love/hate relationship with Market Basket.  I love it because of the low prices, great produce and decent vegetarian selection.  I hate it because, well, it is Market Basket.  They leave pallets in the middle of the aisles, the baggers have an odd sense of what products should be matched up in the bags and the clientele is in a word; interesting.  If you are not from this area you may not understand the intricacies of the Basket.  For a better understanding check out "The People of Market Basket" facebook page.  It will help get you in the mindset I need to channel every Thursday morning.  

In addition to my weekly trip into the abyss it was an all around craptastic day.  I woke up late, sweating my a$$ off.  I look to my left and there is Anna sound asleep.  I look to my right and there is Sara.  I have two built in human furnaces...no wonder my body temp is raised 10 degrees.  We get ready and head out to drop Sara off at preschool.  We make it before the doors open...with time to spare if you can imagine that!  It is a chilly morning so Anna and I make a mad dash for the minivan.  I get her all buckled up, pull out of the parking lot and reach for my nice, warm pumpkin coffee.  I didn't find it.  To my horror it had tipped over and spilled out all over the minivan's rug!  So no coffee and now my van smells like sour pumpkin.  YUM!!  I move on and decide to not let that ruin my day.  Little did I know there would be plenty of other things to come that would trump the great coffee debacle...

We go shopping, speed through so we would have time to get the shopping done, get home, unpack it all and pick Sara up on time.  MB is about 12 miles away.  Not too far, but you have to time it out like a Team Seal 6 operation.  If I were EVER 10 seconds late picking Sara up she would NEVER let me forget it.

We are in the produce section and Anna notices a small hole in my jeans...right next to my back pocket.  She puts her finger in it announcing loudly that I have a hole in my pants and yanks on it turning the tiny hole into a 3 inch rip on my ass.  Thanks Anna!  I can always count on her to embarrass me one way or another while at the Basket.

So, like I said, we got the shopping done in record time, and it was a LONG list this week.  I find an empty check-out line.  Score!  I load up the belt, the lady scanning is pretty quick.  Great!  We will be out of here in no time.   But wait, the groceries are backing up.  What the heck is happening?  Turns out the bagger may or may not have been under the influence of an illicit substance.  He would take every flippin item hold it up, turn it around checking it out from every possible angle before putting it in the bag.  It was as if he were on drugs and the shiny labels were distracting.  If you are a MB shopper what is up with their bagging techniques?  They pile 10 glass jars in one bag, 4 small cat food cans in another, 3 half gallons of milk with dryer sheets in a 3rd and the tiny, sacred, plastic spray bottle of butter gets a bag all to itself.  I have never been a grocery bagger so there must be some science to it, but I do not understand their logic at all.  But I digress...

So Anna and I head out and just as we cross the threshold of the automatic exit door my precariously piled pyramid of bags comes crashing down.  So there I am holding up the exit door chasing after the cat food cans, trying to keep Anna from wandering away all the while trying to keep some shred of dignity as people are complaining about the hold up.

After getting our sh*t together we head over to the Merry Go Round (Anna's reward for good behavior) she is thrilled there is not an "Out of Order" sign on it.  Typically there is.  She gets on the green horse and gears up.  I put the quarters in and you guessed it...NOTHING!!!  Once again it is broken.  Poor bugger is broken hearted.  She sadly rides the single horse...

On the way home we are stuck behind someone going 20 miles an hour for 11 miles!!!  It is a long 11 miles on the back country road...Thanks to the tripping bagger and the blue haired couple out leaf peeping I am now 20 minutes behind schedule.

I get home and load both arms up with the bags and climb the million stairs up to the front door.  We have a screen door that opens into our screened porch before we get to the actual front door.  It sticks sometimes so I bang it open with my knee.  I fall face forward on top of all the bags.  Anna grumbles..."what is taking you so long" as she steps over me and the groceries.  So compassionate.

I drop those off and head down for the rest of the bags.  I load both arms up again.  I refuse to make more than 2 trips.  I start the long trek up the stairs.  My foot gets caught and I fall face forward again!!  I sh*t you not.  I am laying flat out on the stairs with yogurts rolling by my face.  I jump up as fast as I can because my face is very close to where I have seen a snake in the past.  That would be the icing on the cake.  A snake slithering over my head...

I have just enough time to put the fridge and freezer items away before preschool gets out.  The girls and I then went to a playdate.  Which was the highlight of my day...thanks Danielle and Dawn!!  I finally got the last of the groceries put away at 3:30 this afternoon.


Oh, here is a joke my sweet little 2 year old told me today...

Anna: "knock, knock"

Me:  "who's there?"

Anna:  "how did the mommy poop on the baby?"

Me:  "I don't know.  How did the mommy poop on the baby?"

Anna:  "From her butt hole"

And how was your day?