Sunday, April 29, 2012

Those Parents

I regret to inform you that Chuck and I have become those parents.  You know the ones that I am talking about...Oh look at those parents...can you believe those parents just did...and the dot, dot, dot is never anything good.  It is always something that you yourself would never do...especially if you are not a parent.

Well, we officially became those parents on Friday night.  It was a typical day in our house, nothing out of the ordinary.  Then came bed time.  We have always been lucky in that department.  The girls never fight us on bedtime and they are typically both asleep by 8:15, they may not stay asleep but they always start out with the best of intentions.  I say we are lucky in that department but there is one caveat...I am just going to put it out there...Anna still uses a bottle to go to sleep.  I know, I know...you are all thinking what?  Isn't she almost 2 and a half.  Well, yes, yes she is.  Since we are amongst friends here I know you are not going to pass judgement.  Even if you do I don't care, and here is why.. #1. In my defense it only has water in it and #2.  She drinks out of a cup all day, the bottle is only at night.  #3. She asks for it at 7:30, announces she is going to bed, walks in her room, turns her radio on and climbs into bed.  You really think I am going to mess with that?  If she is going to put herself to sleep the little bugga can have her bottle until she is in college.  When other kids are asking their parents for money for new cell phone covers I will be giving Anna ten bucks for a new bottle cover...that is fine with me.

So what is the big deal about Friday night you ask?  Oh, I will tell you.  We lost the bottle!!  "The" bottle?  Yeah, we only have one.  We got the set 4 and a half years ago when we had Sara.  Since then some have cracked and we lost others along the way.  So we are down to one 4 ounce bottle and yes we do refill it for her.  My kids don't use binkies, have special lovies or any other must-have items but we can not break her of the damn bottle.  I have tried.  She has given up her nap but in return she sleeps later...7:45 p.m. to 6:30 a.m.  It is a fine line I need to walk. 

So back to the missing bottle.  We looked everywhere.  Anna is usually our go to girl when it comes to finding lost things.  She may be just under 2 1/2 but she has this incredible memory and for some reason has a photographic inventory of all the items in our house.  Sara refuses to play the game Memory with her because she knows she is going down.  Anna was so over tired and was falling to pieces and couldn't remember where it was.  Chuck and I were tearing the house apart.  There was sweat, there were tears and I know that I was starting to formulate Plan B...no, not try to give her a substitute sippy cup.  I have tried that in the past.  Not going to work.  I was trying to figure out in my head the closest store that might sell Avent bottles.  Does CVS?  Would Shaw's have them?  Would I have to go all the way to Wal-Mart?  Oh wait, maybe Chuck's mom has an extra one hanging around.  I am almost positive that Chuck was thinking the same thing.  Which now with the clearer vision that comes once the tantrum has passed sounds ridiculous, but in the moment I would have paid $100 to have an Avent bottle magically appear.  I did finally find it. I tried to think like Anna, which if you have ever met her in person is funny just to imagine.  I looked in the cabinet under the fish tank (remember, she did poop in there one time...we have since filled it with their trucks to avoid future accidents).  It wasn't there, but in the process their wagon rolled ever so slightly and I caught a tiny glimpse of a blue A!!!  I found it!!!  I found it!!!  Crisis averted!!!  I rinsed it out, filled it up and sent Anna on her way.

Friday night I swore then and there that was it.  No more baby bottle for Anna, she was going to have to toughen up and drink from a cup at night if she wanted water.  I am a better parent than that ridiculous display of spinelessness that just occurred.  I have a degree in child development.  I have been working with and advising parents on how to raise their children for the past 20 years.  I am NOT going to be one of those parents anymore. 

File this blog under do as I say and not as I do.  The bottle went missing again last night and guess what?  I caved.  30 seconds in and I caved.  The hunt was back on.  We did find it.  It was in the dishwasher of all places.  So now in the clarity of a new day I am going to be strong again, set forth a contingency plan for when the bottle inevitably goes missing again....  I am going to buy new bottles.

Friday, April 27, 2012

High Anxiety

If any of you out there are also parenting an anxious child...God luv ya!!  It is EXHAUSTING!!!  I am not talking  the run of the mill kid that gets anxious before a doctor's appointment.  This is more the generalized anxiety about life in general.  I am only 4 and a half years in but man...it is tough to always think 10 steps ahead and try to anticipate what will trigger a bout of nerves.  I am usually pretty good at it but the past 24 hours I have dropped the ball.  Here are two examples...

Last night Sara and I were in my bed watching TV...yes, I said my bed.  The poor bugga is still plagued by nightmares from that flippin movie Chimpanzee.  She had one where I was climbing a tree to get some fruit and a gorilla came and ate me and then another where I was cooking dinner on a scary night and someone came in our house.  Normally I would go into her room to calm her down, but I am on the injured list.  Anna got a bad foot infection and when I took her to the doctors she freaked when she was supposed to get on the scale.  I had to suffer the ultimate humiliation and get on the scale alone and then with her. To add injury to insult Anna did that awesome toddler trick of throwing herself back when I was holding her causing me to rip my neck muscles in half and rendering me unable to climb the bunk bed ladder at 2 a.m. to quell a nightmare.  How is that for ironic...at work I am able to get kids that up until 10 minutes before were strangers to cooperate for painful, invasive procedures...and I can't get my kid to cooperate and get on a scale.  Lovely.

So back to the story..we were watching TV and a commercial comes on for a cell phone.  The mom and daughter are crying hysterically because the girl is going to college.  Sara asks why they are crying so I tell her.  Then the questions start...what is college?  why does she have to go?  why is the mom sad?  I swear I never saw this coming..."WHAT?  YOU HAVE TO LIVE AT COLLEGE?"  It all went downhill from there.  It was a good half hour of me getting peppered with a million questions.  I tried the "you can ask 1 more question and then we are done talking about it" only to get ambushed 2 minutes later with "mom, I am not going to ask you about when I go to college...but when Anna goes...".  So it ended with me agreeing to drive her to and from college everyday and promising that I will never make her sleep there.  I even went the whole "college is awesome, you can go to parties every night if you want" angle but nope, she wants me to send her college teachers a message so they know that she doesn't have to sleep there.

She did bring it up briefly this morning but she got over it quick as she was yelling at me for breaking another promise.  She wanted to make pancake pops for Anna since she wasn't feeling well.  Well, Anna came in the kitchen and ruined the surprise and somehow that was my fault...just like yesterday when I promised them ice-cream, the 1st place only took cash so we went to another place down the street instead.  Again, I broke my promise because we didn't get ice-cream at Pirate's Cove.  I am a terrible mom.

Anyway...I digress, back to the anxiety at hand.  So we were having a delightful lunch today, it was bright and sunny and the girls were in a great mood.  Sara announced she knew how to say chocolate milk in Spanish (I try to repeat words in Spanish for them so they will have some vocabulary.  I would love to take them to Spain in a few years so they can meet all my family and friends over there).  I said Muy Bien!  Now if you are ever in Spain and you want a drink you can ask for your favorite.  She asked how to say white milk.  Then the questions started...what if I have to go to the bathroom?  how do I say that?  what if I want to ride a swing? What if I am hungry?  Keep in mind she is now not asking out of curiosity, she is starting to panic.  I tell her that is she goes to Spain I will be there with her, not to worry.  Well, mom what if we are there and you won't tell me in English?    50% of me was so proud of her at that moment...she knows me so well.  For kicks that IS something I would do.  I think if I recall clearly...I may not have translated for Chuck when we went to Spain.  I mean how else do you learn?  The other 50% really felt bad for her being so worried over nothing.  I again, promised that I would stay right with her and help her speak Spanish if we do go on vacation in Spain.  I am almost positive if we do go 5 years from now, I will forget to translate one word for her and she will go on a tirade about me breaking another promise.

That is just one day in the life of an anxious child.

Maybe for college I should send her to the University of Barcelona?!

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

In Loving Memory...

This blog is dedicated in loving memory to Ishia the mother chimp in the Disney movie Chimpanzee. 

So...despite how it may come across in this blog, I do love my children and I take my job as their mother very seriously.  I think long and hard about the life lessons I want to instill in them, I read books to them, play board games, Barbies, do crafts, create science experiments...you get the picture.  I try to be well thought out in my approach to teaching morals, how I discipline my children and just being a good, decent, present parent.

Recently Sara had started to get pretty bratty...whining, screeching and being mean to her dad.  She even kicked a trash can at me.  Enough was enough.  I brought out the big guns and we made a behavior chart.  She needed to follow 3 rules in order to earn a circle.  The rules were 1) No yelling 2) No whining and 3) Be nice to daddy.  She could earn up to 3 circles a day...each day was broken up into 3 smaller increments of time....a whole day would be too long for her to be good.  I wanted her to be able to have some success so I broke it up into 3 time separate time frames.  Once she got all of the circles (21) she got a reward.  See, I told you I was well thought out!  She wanted to go see Disney's new movie Chimpanzee.  A rated G documentary about a baby chimp that is orphaned until he is taken under the wing of the chimp group's elder male.  She would call for me to come in every time she saw a commercial for it.  The timing was right...if she did a great job it would take her a week to earn the circles and she would be able to see it opening weekend. 

Sara worked so hard and she was much more pleasant to be around.  I know it is just circles on a chart but it taught her so many important life lessons...1. hard work,determination and perseverance pay off.  2.  the nicer she was to people the more time they wanted to spend with her doing fun things...her and Chuck really bonded over frog hunting that week and 3.  Mommy and daddy will not tolerate bratty behavior.

She did it!!!  She got all of her circles in time to see the movie on opening weekend.  I switched my schedule around a bit, I wanted her to know that this was really important and that I was recognizing her hard work.  So we go to the movies, just her and I.  She was so excited with the biggest grin on her face.  We got our snacks and headed into the theater.  This was the big time!  A real movie, with the lights off and previews.  Typically we see the Kidtoons with the lights just dimmed and no previews.  You could tell she felt so special and grown up. 

Now I am just going to say it...DISNEY DID US WRONG!!!!  Let me explain...the movie starts, it is very sweet...The baby, Oscar, is the cutest little bugga.  They document the chimp group playing, sleeping and eating.  Well, the fruit trees are bare, they are having a hard time finding something to eat.   So the chimps come up with another plan...they decide to seek out and ambush a monkey.  They show them setting up the ambush and carrying it out.  They didn't show the actual killing but you could hear it in the background...they then pan over to the chimps eating monkey flesh.  Sara looked at me stunned and said, "I thought they ate bananas"...so we recover from that and move on.  Well...now comes the part when baby Oscar becomes and orphan...They show a leopard stalking around in the dark and then you hear the mom screaming as she is being eaten...these chimps are so human like and keep in mind THEY SCREAM LIKE PEOPLE!!!  Sara is staring straight ahead and says "did the leopard kill the mom?"...I am staring straight ahead and just as stunned answer "uh-huh"...

The movie comes to an end and we silently walk out of the theater.  I was shocked!!!  I knew the baby chimp is orphaned but I figured that since it was rated G that it would kind of gloss over the gory details...

That night I was putting Sara to bed and we were talking about our day and I was saying how special it was and I was so proud of her for earning all the circles.  She tells me that it wasn't really that special because I took her to the worst, scariest movie on the earth. 

Thank you Disney!!!  You ruined a delicate, complex reward system that has been so effective in the past.  Now where is the incentive?  I can just imagine the wheels turning in Sara's head..."Um, ok, let's see mom wants me to behave...if I work really hard she will take me somewhere and scare the sh*t out of me as a reward?  thanks but no thanks"...I've got nothing. 

To top it all off Sara has been having nightmares since we saw Chimpanzee.  One was of me climbing a tree to get fruit and a gorilla comes and eats me.  So now we are back to not sleeping through the night again...paging Dr. Murray.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Mommy Confessions...Part II

I had a conversation with a fellow mommy yesterday.  We were talking about how hard being a parent really is.  Being a good parent that is.  Harder than you ever imagine.  It is not all the Koala's and butterflies  Babies R Us lulls all pregnant women into thinking it is.  Again, don't get me wrong I love my children, I love being a mom and I think I am pretty good at it but I want to write a book about what to REALLY expect when expecting.  All the down and dirty secrets of motherhood that no one wants to talk about...not the fake Facebook postings of the AMAZING life, the AMAZING kids, AMAZING everything that so many people put out there.  Deep down they are just like the rest of us, feeling our way through motherhood, making it up as we go along and making mistakes along the way.  So this post, and this blog in general is for all the parents out there that sometimes wonder "what the hell was I thinking having kids"...and for the mom I was talking to yesterday I got your back....here is validation that you are not alone...

1.  I don't let my kids turn the pages when I read them stories.  If they did then I could not purposely skip pages to get through the book faster.

2.  I love both my girls equally, but...sometimes depending on the day I prefer the company of one more than the other.

3.  Chuck can not wait for the rain storm to start...he is sick of playing outside with the kids.  I agree. 

4.  I don't save all the artwork they make for me.  I lie about it too.  "Hey mom where is that special picture I made for you"...oh the 37th special one today?  yeah, you must have put that one in your room...knowing full well I put it in the trash (and covered it with vegetable peels for good measure).

5.  I secretly hope that Sara stays exceptionally average and does not become exceptional with her dancing abilities.  I am not committed enough to become a dance mom.

6.  Sometimes I just throw away poopie undies.  I can't be bothered trying to rinse them out.

7.  In public I sometimes say to my misbehaving children "wait until I tell your mommy about how you are behaving..." pretending I am just the babysitter and not truly responsible for them.  A trick I learned from my sister.

8.   The other day I was in the elevator at work.  The door opened on the maternity floor and there was a happy looking group of about 8 pregnant ladies and their partners.  Obviously a birthing class.  It took all of my might to quell the unbelievable instinct I had to get off the elevator and run right through them screaming "RUN!  RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!!  IT ISN'T ALL THAT IT'S CRACKED UP TO BE!!!"

I didn't do that.  I upheld the mom's club code.  Never, Ever, under any circumstance let pregnant ladies who are about to join the club know the truth!!  If we did, no one would ever willingly join the mommy club and the human race would die out.  I did my part for mankind...I gave a sweet smile and a nod, letting them live out the rest of their pregnancy in ignorant bliss.





Friday, April 20, 2012

Call the U. N. ...we have some Human Rights violations over here

I am on strike.  I have been since about 5:30 last night.  No one here seems to notice or care.  I am considering contacting the United Nations due to the egregious Human Rights Violations that are occurring within these four walls.  

For my 21st birthday I went to Geneva, Switzerland (by myself!!)...not for a booze fest but to visit the United Nations...not sure if many of you know this, but...I am a huge geek.    I had this dream of working for UNICEF writing global child welfare policy.  I was going to travel the globe and save the world's children.  Somewhere along the line I got sidetracked and now I am writing weekly behavioral charts to hang on the kitchen wall.  Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change my life or how it turned out I have a great husband and two wonderful little girls.  There are a few things, however, that I might tweak a bit...

Back to my 21st birthday in Switzerland.  I got this great children's book about the Declaration of Human Rights.  It now sits on the girl's bookshelf and Sara occasionally picks it for story time.  I am going to refer to that Declaration in defense of my current strike.  Which started when several members of our household were joking about how I am the worst mommy ever.  I have fed my children breakfast (because the state mandates I do so) and I have stripped MY bed of the pee soaked sheets because leaving them on is just plain gross  (I did not pee in it...one of the kids ended up in my bed and of course peed).  Other than the bare necessities the "fairy" is not coming today.  I am not refilling the soap, changing the toilet paper..it can sit on the side of the tub, I am not grocery shopping, I am not playing, I am not doing dishes, vacuuming...etc, etc...Which will come back to bite me is the ass, because I will end up doing all of this when my strike is over anyway.

According to the Declaration these are my Human Rights that have been violated:

Article 4:   No one shall be held in slavery or servitude; slavery and the slave trade shall be prohibited in all their forms.  Hmmm..no one can be anyone else's slave?  Sara and Anna certainly did not get that memo.  They truly believe that I am here to cater to their every whim.  Little do they know I am here voluntarily and if I am not mistaken April is National Volunteer month and instead of taking me for granted they should be showering me with appreciation and gratitude...need to work on that one.

Article 5:  No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.  No one is to be hurt?  I recall getting a trash can kicked at my knee a few days ago...and last night one of the girls ended up in my bed and peed!  To me that constitutes cruel and unusual  punishment.  Another argument to present to the tribunal.


Article 12:   No one shall be subjected to arbitrary interference with his privacy, family, home or correspondence, nor to attacks upon his honour and reputation. Everyone has the right to the protection of the law against such interference or attacks.       I have the right to privacy?!!  Really??  Then why do my kids constantly walk in on me when I am in the bathroom or shower?  They come after me like a heat seeking missile when I pick up the phone...so again, my right to free correspondence is being violated on a daily basis.


Article 17:  (1) Everyone has the right to own property alone as well as in association with others.  (2) No one shall be arbitrarily deprived of his property.       This one I have a real problem with.  I have NOTHING that is my own.  I go to put on my new makeup and the colors are already gouged out, I try to eat dinner and someone wants a bite, I went to put my shoes on for work the other day and couldn't find them.  I looked everywhere...shame on me for not looking in the playroom where they were filled with turtles.  Of course that is where they would be!!  The article states there needs to be a fair reason to take my property away.  I hardly think stuffing my shoes with plastic animals is a fair and just reason to seize my property.  Again, I will be presenting this to the UN General Assembly.

 

Article 19:  Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers. Sadly, I don't have this right either.  I have tried to tell the kids I don't like their TV shows and they get all bent out of shape and throw a fit when I try to watch Anderson Cooper.  My opinion carries no weight.  That is a clear violation of article 19.

 

Article 23.  (1) Everyone has the right to work, to free choice of employment, to just and favorable conditions of work and to protection against unemployment.  (2) Everyone, without any discrimination, has the right to equal pay for equal work.  (3) Everyone who works has the right to just and favorable remuneration ensuring for himself and his family an existence worthy of human dignity, and supplemented, if necessary, by other means of social protection.  (4) Everyone has the right to form and to join trade unions for the protection of his interests.   This is probably the biggest violation of all.  In reference to part 1...favorable working conditions!!!  Ha-Ha...I just have to laugh at that one.  Pee, poop, vomit (both child and feline) those don't sound like favorable conditions to me!  #2..equal pay for equal work...let's see 24 hours a day x 365 days a week at $0 per hour, add in the evening and weekend differential let's do the math...zero times zero, carry the zero and you get ZERO!!!  I get paid nothing!!  I know, I know, I get paid in smiles and their sweet kisses...doesn't that warm you heart?  Yes, but I am grossly underpaid for my job performance.  I deserve cold, hard cash for all that I do around here.  I like #4 the best.  I have never been in a union but according to the Declaration I have the right to assemble so I am thinking of starting one.  UP YOURS Local 101 (Under Paid Yes! Over Used Really big Sap).  It has a nice ring to it.  I might get out the poster paint and make a sign right now.  A nice big placard that shouts out Up Yours!!  Hanging in the kitchen. I am going to be the Norma Rae of mothers!!

 

Article 24:  Everyone has the right to rest and leisure, including reasonable limitation of working hours and periodic holidays with pay.  Reasonable limitation of working hours?  Let's see I clock in 15 solid waking hours with the girls.  Plus I am on call for the 9 hours they are asleep.  If they have a night terror or pee the bed I am called in.  This is 7 days a week.  My rest and leisure is the 2 hours I am allotted for my Thursday night grocery shopping.  Not sure that really qualifies...I try to catch Anderson Cooper every afternoon but that is inevitably interrupted for a poopy diaper or an emergency snack.  I think interrupting the Silver Fox is the grossest violation of my Human Rights that I can document.

 

Article 25:  (2) Motherhood and childhood are entitled to special care and assistance.   This is my favorite right of all!  Many years ago a huge group of people from around the world came together to set forth a set of rights that every human being has and that everyone else should respect.  So to my family you need to treat me with special care and assistance.  Not because I say so, but because the whole world says so!!!

 

That is the defense I am mounting for being on strike.  I think I have a pretty good case, I am anticipating the General Assembly would side with me.  I believe that moms should be a protected class and that there are crimes against humanity occurring in homes around the world on a daily basis.  It stops here.  Moms if you are with me join my newly formed union and shout from the rooftops  to anyone that will listen we aren't going to take it any more...UP YOURS!!!



 

 


Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Same poop, different day

So as you know Anna occasionally shows an interest in toilet training...the other days she doesn't give a sh*t (sorry, I couldn't resist).  Anyway, today is one of the days she is on board.  So this morning she wants undies on.  No problem.  She insists on the Dora ones, which we have already established are 2 sizes too small.  No matter to her, she still wears them.  So she tells me she has to go poop and wants to sit on the toilet.  So I go in the bathroom with her and sure enough, she already crapped in her pants...the concept of telling me BEFORE she goes is still incomprehensible to her.  So I clean her up and we put the poop in the toilet and she flushes it away.  She says the requisite "bye poopy" as it is circling the drain.  Then she starts to freak out because, are you ready for this?  "The poopie misses its family".  I sh*t you not, Anna throws a good 10 minute fit because she wants the poop back so it can be with its family.  What family?  Is there something more going on here that I don't know about?  Keep in mind, this is the same girl that pooped inside of the fish tank cabinet and never thought to tell me.

So we put some clean undies back on and she goes on her way.  I do the whole every 20 minutes sitting on the potty deal...thinking the timing will work out for at least one of these potty breaks.  Oh, silly me....I should have known better.  I hear Anna calling me.  It was kind of a muffled, distant call.  I looked everywhere and finally found her standing on top of a child sized dresser that is in the girl's closet.  "I peed"  she said with such confidence and sense of joy.  So I go change her and head back to the dresser to clean up the pee.  She had a dress on and it was still dry, her undies were soaked so I was expecting a big puddle on the dresser.  NOTHING!!!  I looked and looked and could not find it.  I asked Anna and she couldn't remember where she was when she peed.  I spent 15 minutes looking for the phantom pee.  Never did find it.  I am sure I will stumble across it in the middle of the night when I am barefoot trying to break up a cat fight.

A few minutes ago Anna comes to tell me she has poop.  She has a diaper on now...I smartened up.  So she says that it is a silly poop.  That when she squishes it it feels funny.  You try it mom she says.  No thanks....well you would have thought I ripped her favorite stuffed animal in half and tossed it in the trash.  Apparently not squishing a two year old's poop when asked is the worst insult you could send their way...I will do almost anything for my kids but I draw the line at squishy their poop.


Monday, April 16, 2012

Once Upon a Time...

There was a little fairy...  She was quite the helpful little bugga.  She would come around and load and unload the dishwasher, clear the island of its debris, fill up all the soap dispensers and clean the fridge every week before finding time to go grocery shopping.  This fairy also bleached down the bathroom  scrubbing the toilet and tub and even cleaned out the toothbrush holder every week so gross sludge wouldn't build up.  Somehow the fairy always knew when we needed to get more toilet paper, soap and toothpaste. 

In addition to cleaning, this amazing little creature would sort through the girls clothes, get backpacks and snacks ready for school and have all the clothes laid out at night.  She would arrange play-dates, read stories and play Barbies no matter how tired she was.  The fairy also took one of the children to her dance class every week, hung the coats up, made all the dentist and doctor appointments and knew every last cell on the children's bodies inside and out.  

If something were missing the fairy could tell you exactly where it was in about 2 seconds flat, if a game piece were missing the fairy could immediately come up with a replacement. 

What is more amazing is the fairy comes around EVERY day!!!  No matter the weather, no matter if she is sick or even if it is a holiday she comes and gets it all done.  This fairy is more reliable than the postal service.  365 days a year!!!!

Now, I have never seen this fairy that comes to our house but I am pretty sure that Sara, Anna and Chuck have.  They are pretty pleased with her job performance. They like the way she takes care of everything so much they occasionally leave extra jobs for her to do....like leave an Italian ice cup upside down on the sofa on a 90 degree day, empty out the closet onto the floor looking for shorts, leave poopy undies on the bathroom floor...fun stuff like that.  The fairy LOVES finding these little extra projects...it gives her such great job satisfaction knowing the family she is assigned to her have such confidence in her fairy magic.  

I bet she comes when I am at work.  Maybe that is why I have never seen her...

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Laissez faire..or is it a lazy fair?

Honestly, I can't tell.  I am still on the fence trying to decide if my children are extremely lazy or have brilliant problem solving skills.  I will present the evidence and you can decide.

Recently Sara was not allowed to go outside until she cleaned up her toys.  She wouldn't budge.  She REALLY wanted to go outside because the night before she set up a science experiment on the hill in the backyard and wanted to see what  happened to it.  I was sticking to my guns...no going out until the toys were put away.  She would look out the window and stand on her tippy toes to try to see the top of the hill.  She would ask me what I thought.  Nothing.  The toys were still out.  It seriously would have taken her all of 2 minutes to clean them up.  Nope!!  Chuck comes home and she is laying around and asks him to go and check the hill, he does, comes back and reports what he sees.  Sara gets the one thing she wants AND didn't have to clean up.  Lazy or creative problem solving?...

Again with the toys.  Neither of them wanted to clean them up.  I told them they had to before we could go for a walk.  I leave the room and come right back and the toys are miraculously all cleaned up.  I knew better..they shoved them all under the trampoline.  Yes, I know, if you have been following my blog you know that the trampoline is STILL in the living room due to my husband and I being too lazy to take it down...remember?  we were so excited to give it to her we put it together in the living room not realizing that once assembled it does not fit through the doorway.  So in my kids defense I guess the apple does not fall too far from the tree.  Not in their defense now...our house is pretty small, it is a very short walk to put the toys in their room.  Pure laziness or a good understanding of spatial relations?...

Sara is famous for calling out for you to come because she "needs you".  She always makes it seem like there is some dire emergency on the horizon.  Usually she just wants you to throw her trash away or get her something.  Drives me nuts but one of her other parents (who will remain nameless) usually caters to her whim.  Again I ask...lazy or a master at the art of delegating?...

My last piece of evidence to present and to my Facebook friends you may have heard about this last incident a few days ago...but it is my strongest argument yet.   Anna and I were snuggling and reading on the couch.  She says, "here mom" as she dangles a huge booger on her finger.  I tell her that is gross to go get a tissue and she says to me, "I am too lazy...I will put it back".  She puts it back in her nose, looks at her now "clean" finger and goes on with her life.  I was disgusted and stunned all at the same time.   Mostly disgusted though.  Was this another argument for laziness or ingenious time management?

I have been thinking about that last scenario for a few days now and I am not sure if I should be totally frustrated with my children over their laissez faire attitude towards life or should I be bursting with pride over their amazing ability to take the path of least resistance and always come out on top?  The jury is still out, but one thing is certain...I have been diligent with Anna making sure she is using her hand sanitizer...


Thursday, April 12, 2012

Move over Larry Flynt...

Anna is the new purveyor of smut.  So this morning I broke my rule of taking children to Market Basket.  Thursday evening is usually my thrilling night out at the grocery store.  It was going to rain and I was really tired I just wanted to get it over with.  I decided to go with Anna while Sara was at preschool.  You know if I bring a kid with me it will always end in a good story.  Today was no exception.

A while back Anna was not talking so we enrolled her in Early Intervention to give her a boost.  I am constantly asking myself why was it again we thought it was important to teach her to talk?  Anyway she has this curious little accent...kind of a cross between British (she calls her self Ah-Nah) and New York (she pronounces back bay-yak) with some other weird, hard to place phonetics.  Add to that her articulation problem and it is always an adventure listening to her....

We were in the chip aisle and she wanted some "Pi-Pi Boobies".  Any guesses?  That would be Pirate's Booty my friends.  She was so mad that I wouldn't get it for her and she kept nagging me to get her Pi-Pi Boobies.  The little old man looking at the mixed nuts really got a kick out of that one.

A little further down the aisle she saw the fruit nacks (that is fruit snacks to you and I).  She really wanted Hello Tittie ones.  She kept asking where the Hello Tittie fruit nacks where.  I have never seen them and I am not sure they even exist but I couldn't resist I kept asking her what kind she wanted. It never gets old.

Even though Anna was feeling under the weather today she was really happy and singing Ring Around the Rosie throughout the whole shopping trip.  However, due the her odd speech pattern she sings it "asses, asses we all fall down".  She was singing it so loud and with such passion I just let her keep going. 

She may just take over for Larry Flynt when he retires. She already spends most of her time talking about Tits and Asses.  Yup, my sweet little girl...asses, asses we all fall down!!!

Monday, April 9, 2012

It's a Jungle in Here

So in addition to my two little girls we have a couple of pets...2 cats, a guinea pig and 3 fish tanks to be exact.  Lately the pets have been causing me more grief than the kids.  It came to a head the other day when I found myself walking into work in a most unattractive outfit.  It was blue pants, a blue tank top and a blue sweater.  None of it matched.  Needless to say it was not my first choice of attire for the day.  I had something a bit more coordinated but at the last minute, which is usually reserved for changing one of Anna's crappy diapers, Lucy tried climbing up me and in the process ripped my original shirt.  It wasn't a huge hole but it was right in the middle of my belly and not sure if many of you know this...I am really, really white and my belly is a bit on the softer side these days so that shirt was out.  Hence the ensemble that encompassed every blue hue under the sun.  For those that may have had the pleasure of seeing me that day, yes, I am well aware that my outfit didn't match and I am sorry.

So let me introduce you to my pets so you can get a fuller appreciation of my day to day life.  First up;

GRACIE:   She is my 10 year old cat.  I got her when I was living in Providence.  She really loves me.  REALLY loves me.  Gracie is always all over me, rubbing up against my leg, cuddling with me on the couch, comes up and purrs in my ear and tries to lick my ear.  She kind of has a creepy smile on her face when she is doing this.  When she does it I always get this image of the lights dimming, a disco ball coming down and Marvin Gaye's Let's Get it on starts to play...I am sure somewhere on the internet I can find a subset of society that may be turned on by this....but it is driving me nuts!!! She had a partner in crime for her entire life who died last summer (a quick side story....Sara is a very cerebral child and really needs and wants a lot of information.  We knew Maddie was going to die and we had prepared Sara for it.  She wanted to give her last pats and she picked out a box and blanket to bury her in.  We were coming home from the vet after it happened and it was pretty quiet in the car.  Sara very sweetly asks Anna if she wants to play with Maddie.  Anna who really doesn't understand what just happened says yeah.  Sara yells at her " Well, you can't she is DEAD!" nice gentle introduction to death for Anna).   So Gracie hasn't been the same since the other cat died.. She seemed depressed and lonely.  After about 6 months I had the bright idea of getting her a new cat friend....


LUCY:  Lucy is a 5 year old black cat....who thinks she is a panther.  She HATES me.  She stares at me and licks her lips...just like the panther in the Geico ad.  She glares at me when I come into the room.  I am slightly afraid of her.  She is creepy...you turn around and she is there staring.  I have opened the cereal cabinet a few times and she is in there waiting to scare the sh*t out of me...and she does.  She is all black except for a few white furs on her chest.  Oh and her butt hole is white.  So on the rare occasion she does come around me it is usually to put her ass in front of my face so I get up close and personal with her white balloon knot.  GROSS!!  She does however, LOVE Sara.  She literally climbs up in her arms to be carried around.  She sleeps with her every night and Sara can do anything to this cat, put necklaces on her, ride her around in the wagon, get her to eat right from her hand, you name it this cat is game. Oh and since we got her in January I have only been able to clip 4 of her nails.  Chuck has to wrap her in a towel and practically choke her to get it done...and still only 4 nails have been done.  She goes nuts and I fear I will turn out like Siegfried, or is it Roy?  This cat is out to get me.  No wonder her nails ripped my shirt...

The two cats do not get along.  It has been 3 months now and Lucy is still out to kill Gracie.  Gracie is in fear for her life and sleeps on my head at night so as to not be murdered in her sleep.  Does not help with all the other sleep disturbances I have going on.  But I feel a sense of obligation to keep her alive for another day since I brought this murderous cat into her life.  I have a spray bottle hanging on my headboard for the inevitable middle of the night cat fight...it is to the point that my 2 year old shouts out, Mom the cats are looking at each other....that means I have about 3.2 seconds to get my ass in there to referee.  Sara and Anna try to smooth things over by saying "good girls" when the 2 cats are in close proximity.  

We have set up 3 cat litter boxes for them.  They have this stupid game they play.  One will take a crap and the other will come along about 2 minutes later and show them up.  It is literally like they are trying to out crap each other.  It is awesome for me.  Why, you ask?  Oh, because the only litter box they find acceptable is one in the kitchen.  Just to mess with me even more is the fact that they play this game just as I sit down to eat.  We tried to move it out of the kitchen but that was not to their liking.  One day I walked into my room and it smelled like poop.  Anna and Chuck had both just been in there so I couldn't rule any reasonable source out.  They both denied it.  The smell was lingering.  Turns out one of the cats took a dump on the clean laundry.   Now, shame on me for leaving the clean laundry in a pile on my bedroom floor.   I knew it might be compromised by one of the kids, perhaps leaving a toy in the mix.  I never imagined that a cat would crap on it.  Had to rewash everything.  This time I was smart and put the clean laundry on my bed before I put it away.  Well, fool me once shame on you...fool me twice...Yup!  This time the cat not only crapped on my clean close but decided to pee on it too.  So we put the litter box back in the kitchen and haven't had that problem since.  I am sure you are all thinking to yourself why don't you just put your laundry away in a timely fashion....to that I have no good response.  We did move the litter box to the top of the basement stairs to see if that helps.  Oh, and the 2 boxes down in the basement are not up to their standards however, the hole surrounding the sump pump is.  That is there new craptastic idea.  Sh*tting in the hole.  That sucker is being cemented up this weekend.  Take that cats!!  I am sure they will find another way to get back at us.

MS. AMERIGOLD LEMON LAVALLEE:  is "Sara's" guinea pig.  I put it in quotes because it is only Sara's when it suits her.  Like when Anna pays attention to it...then Sara claims her.  Other than that they only play with her when I suggest it.  Sara had some issues about a year ago that we were working on.  She would get a small reward when she earned it and was to work toward a larger goal.  In a fit of desperation I said to her, "Sara if you do ___________ then you can get anything you want"...just as the words left my mouth I wanted a do-over.  I have degrees in child development, I have worked with children my entire adult life and when working with kids I know you can't write a check you aren't willing to cash...I was going to have to follow through with whatever she came up with.  Without missing a beat she yells out Guinea Pig!!  I have never had a guinea pig, we don't know anyone that has one...I had no idea they were even on her radar.  So I drove her right to the pet store, I had them take out the cutest one and let her hold it...I dangled that damn guinea pig like a carrot in front of her face.  She could have one, but, she needed to earn it.  She failed the first day.  I told Chuck, no worries, she can't do this....we won't have to get a guinea pig.  Wouldn't you know the next day she did great and for the next 30 days held up her end of the bargain and earned it.  In the meantime I did some research.  Did you know those little suckers could live for 8 years?  I trolled on Craigslist and found one.  This is going to sound awful but I knew the novelty would wear off and I would end up taking care of it...I wanted one with a few years under its belt.  Found one, cage and all for $40.  We went to get it.  I read the ad wrong.  It was 4 months...not 4 years.  I am in it for the long haul, oh and yeah, the cage was all rusty I needed to buy a new one.  I guess you can't trust Craigslist....She is very cute and she squeals with delight every time I walk by her.  She is great for my self esteem...if the kids are bringing me down I just walk by her cage and get a little pick me up.

The fish are Chuck's I don't have much to say about them...they are now in the basement.  That makes me happy.

If you ever hear me say that getting a dog would be a good idea STOP ME!!!!




Thursday, April 5, 2012

And so it Begins...

Anna has decided she wants to wear underwear.  Actually, it was "suggested" to her by her Auntie Jen.  Auntie promised her a new Dora doll if she peed on the potty.  She also promised Sara a new doll if she would teach Anna how to use the potty.  Anna could not have cared less but Sara is all about prizes...if there is one to be had she will find a way to get it.  I hang up the phone with Auntie Jen and I walk by the bathroom and they are already in there.  Sara marched Anna right in as soon as she heard there was a princess doll involved.  Princess paraphernalia is a pretty strong currency around here. 

Anna is only 2 years and 4 months old.  Way too early for her to potty train.  Some kids are ready that young and some are not.  Sara was trained at 20 months....she was ready.  Anna is not.  Case in point;  the other day I had to quickly move Anna out of the tub and ditch her on the couch since her sister gave birth to a turd in the tub.  I was in the kitchen spraying the tub toys down with bleach when Anna comes into the kitchen naked, with huge smile on her face.  She joyfully announces that she just peed.  Yay!  I say to her and head into the bathroom to clean out the potty. She says "mom it's not in the potty...I peed on the couch"...she was so proud of herself I couldn't get too upset.  Plus, as you all know by now we have nothing nice anymore anyway so a pee soaked couch fits in quite nicely with the decor.  So she is starting to get that she shouldn't pee in her diaper, but she doesn't quite get that we, as the human race are slightly more civilized than our animal counterparts and we really can't just pop a squat where ever and whenever the urge strikes.

So now for a couple of hours during the day she wants to wear her undies.  I indulge her.  She wants Dora ones.  Well, my little lovebug skipped right past the 2T/3T size right into size 4.  So she complains every time she has to put on a Minnie Mouse pair.  Really?  Does it matter?  They are going to be soaked in pee in about 15 minutes anyway....

Anna spends A LOT of time sitting on the toilet.  She tries and tries so hard to get a few dribbles out.  With all of that straining something is bound to come out.  Usually it is just gas.  If you kept up with my Facebook entries then you might remember a few months back the 2:30 a.m. "Fart-Gate"...remember when Anna farted and she was so upset that she could not see her fart in the toilet?  yeah, well, it happens several times a day now.  She get so frustrated because with all that hard work she expects to see "results"...unfortunately farts are invisible.  After telling someone at work about Fart Gate 2010 she gave me some talking points about farts so now I have a better response to Anna when she is upset about not seeing her farts instead of just laughing at her.  Now when she is mad that the potty is empty I tell her that "yes Ann, your fart was real, even though we can't see it, we heard it and we can smell it...so we know that it really came out of your bum."  I have to dig down deep to say that with a straight face, but it works she doesn't throw a tantrum over the phantom farts anymore.

What she DOES do now though it just as curious...she "needs pwibacy"...translation:  needs privacy.  Miraculously about 30 seconds after I walk out and close the door she announces she peed.  Not sure if she is telling the truth or not...she tends to flat out lie to your face.  But I go along with her and praise her for a job well done.    I would later find out that she is up to no good when she is alone in the bathroom.  She confessed to Chuck that she put a booger on Memere's (her grandmother's) towel.  Chuck did call his mom and tell her.  I can only imagine what she has been up to in my bathroom.  I have been extra vigilant in there lately.


I will all keep you updated with her progress...I am sure it will be an adventure.

On a somewhat related note...Anna had school today.  It really isn't school it is a little preschool playgroup that we go to for 2 hours a week.  Anyway, she is very shy there.  In the car ride there we practiced some polite phrases she can use when she wants to ask for a snack or a hand stamp.  Didn't work...she was super shy the whole time...UNTIL she lets out a sonic boom and announces at the top of her voice "I farted...excuse me"....


Monday, April 2, 2012

Forget Waterboarding....

Contact the CIA!!  They no longer need to water board the inmates at Guantanamo...I have a new form of torture that would get even the most hardened terrorist to crack.  Force them to wear the outfit, shoes included, that I wore last night.
 
Let me start by saying the wedding was wonderful...we had a really good time and it was glorious to see the girls drive away with my parents for the night.  HOWEVER....I have never been more physically uncomfortable in ALL OF MY LIFE!!!  I do not make this statement lightly, I was in labor for 36 hours with Sara...and this 8 hour span of time trumps that hands down.

Let's start at the beginning...getting dressed.  It was even more of an ordeal than I had imagined.  I got the first "undergarment" on.  The first shaper.  It had this rubbery seam around the openings for the legs and around the waist, which is not really a waist at all since it comes up to your armpits.  It was a struggle getting it up but I did it without sweating too much.  Then came the Spanx nylons.  Holy God...these things were a disaster right from the get go.  I swear they were defective.  The first leg went on fine, relatively speaking...as fine as stuffing a watermelon into a grape.  I could not get the second leg on to save my life.  Literally if there were a man standing next to me with a gun ordering me to put it on properly I would have been shot dead.  I tried and tried... this thing was not going on.  It was so tight it wouldn't budge.  I took it off and started over 3 times. I swear to God  the second leg was two sizes smaller than the first.  I tried everything!!  I was contorted into all kinds of positions trying to pull this up past my knee.  Chuck was offering to help but I refused...that is all I needed after all the running around the day before ending up with ripped nylons would be the icing on the cake.  After a good 10 minutes of getting into every yoga position imaginable I managed to get it up, kind of.  I say kind of because I could get it up enough to cover my leg but there was this super tight ringed up bunch of nylon just above my knee.  Since we were running late I had to go with it.  Chuck offered a helpful tip, "if you don't throw a clot by the end of the night you will be fine."  In an effort to not ruin his night I made sure to periodically move my foot to keep the blood flowing.  I think the alcohol during cocktail hour sufficiently thinned my blood as well...

So I re-dry my hair...which was soaking from sweat after my nylon workout...Now on to the shoes...I guess buying them at 7 p.m. after running around all day was not the best idea.  When I went to put them on for the wedding they were HUGE!!  So big in fact that I was walking out of them with each step I took.  There was no way I was going to make it.  I ended up stuffing paper towels into the toes and off we went.  It was a bit of a drive up to New Hampshire so my mind was wandering a bit on the car ride.  No word of a lie, this is what I REALLY thought about...1)  if we were in accident and needed medical attention are there trauma shears strong enough to cut through two layers of Spanx and 2) would the trauma team be able to apply for workers comp for their injuries they would undoubtedly sustain from the muffin top that would be unleashed when said Spanx were cut?  It would be similar to the dough that pops out of the Pillsbury can when you peel it back...only on a much grander scale.

We get to the country club and head in.  Turns out I can't walk like a normal person.  I am all pigeon toed and look as if I have a stick up my ass as I try to walk and keep my shoes on.  I head into the bathroom and try to figure it out.  I add some toilet paper to the shoes to try and make them fit.  If I can just get to my seat all will be well.  I have to walk down stairs.  I was terrified but I bit the bullet and did it.  I made it safely down but just as I walked into the ceremony room I got this ungodly pain that stopped me dead in my tracks.  I could not move, it felt as if there was a giant, hot nail poking straight into my big toe.  I had to try and bend down, mind you they are 4.5 inch heels, so I am balancing on one of them and trying to get some of the toilet paper out all while holding my purse and wedding program.  Of course now there is a line behind me as I am doing this.  Total class act at this point.

Cocktail hour comes and goes...I stand in one spot and ask others to get my drinks for me.  Somehow the alcohol is not numbing the pain but it has brought out my biggest fear.  The need to pee.  I wobble to the bathroom and just as I had envisioned it... A LINE!!!  I go in and try to take care of business as quick as possible and head back to my table for dinner.  But guess what?  Yup!!  The seal has been broken and now I have to go about every 20 minutes.  It was a nightmare...the painful walk, the pressure of getting the spanx up and down in under 2 minutes and the defeated walk back knowing that in 20 minutes I would have to do it all over again.  For the first time in our 7 year relationship I was happy that Chuck is not an extrovert and that I could just sit at the table and not worry about him asking me to dance.  I was kind of bummed because they had really fun music and I did want to get up and dance.  We did slow dance once...if you call it that.  It was more me leaning on him and him holding me up...I am sure everyone there thought I was tanked....little did they know I was just bringing back the lost art of  Chinese foot binding.  I am sure you are all asking why I just didn't take them off.  I would have but they were so swollen I was afraid I would never get them back on.

I have never wished for date night to end so fast.  Finally it was time to go.  We get in the car and I do take my shoes off.  We were a few miles into the drive and I threw caution to the wind and took the nylons and spanx off too.  The throbbing in my thigh was just too much to take and I couldn't wait to get rid of them...I could send them to the military...they would make an awesome tourniquet in the trenches.  I figured if we were in an accident there was no more embarrassing situation than an other...double spanx or nothing....equally embarrassing. 

So there is a wedding coming up in about 14 months.  I am already dreading it. I am happy for the couple and wish them well, but I don't want to have to dress up again.  How can I get out of it so I don't have to go through this hell again?  Could I time it right and have a baby right around the same time?  Could I have one of my ER friends put a long leg cast on me so I can't travel?  Are there any elective surgeries I could qualify for next spring?  I decided that is crazy talk.  I am going to bring back the leisure suit a la Carol Brady.  I am going to wear a nice pastel blue, elastic waisted pantsuit with wide flat shoes.  If I start shopping now I may avoid the day before run around...

So I am going to box it all up and send it to Guantanamo for them...who knows I may just play a pivotal  role in preventing the next Al Queda attack.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Happy Birthday!

Tales of a Mini Van Mom is one month old today!  As of 7:50 a.m. there have been 3,462 views on the blog.  It has been viewed here in the United States, Spain, Japan, France, Italy, New Zealand, Canada, The United Kingdom, Germany, Ukraine and someone in Russia logs on almost everyday!!!  THANK YOU ALL FOR READING IT!!!  I am having so much fun with it.  It is very cathartic and kind of like a free form of therapy.  If you promise to keep reading I will promise to keep writing.