Monday, March 31, 2014

A blind guy walks into a crosswalk

Yeah, I know that sounds like the start of a funny joke, however, that was the start of just a typical Friday for me.  So I was headed to work after a busy morning giving a presentation to a class at Wheelock College, my alma mater.  I was feeling great, feeling like I was once again a contributing member of society…not just a tool used to wipe noses, provide nourishment to my baby and wash dishes.  Not that those things are not important but sometimes I need to feel like my identity is more than just someone’s mother.  So I am cruising along on this bright and sunshiny day, stop at Burger King to get some lunch, singing along with the radio and really just feeling good about life.  Then, you guessed it….A blind man enters a crosswalk and it all went to sh*t!!

So, yes, literally a blind man enters the crosswalk.  I was the 3rd car from the crosswalk.  A Range Rover was immediately in front of the crosswalk, then a smaller sedan and then me in my minivan.  Oh, and of course this was just not any minivan…this was my BRAND NEW minivan.  I had it for less than 2 weeks at this point.  Long story kind of long, but, it was time for us to trade in our original minivan.  The rest of the family wanted a Honda Pilot.  The Pilots are sharp looking cars that happen to be way cooler than a minivan.  I would love one also, but, unfortunately they do not meet the needs of our lifestyle at this point.  Now it is not that we have an actual “lifestyle” that is cool or glamorous but we have 3 kids in big, bulky car seats.  The Pilot is not practical for us.  It was really difficult getting the girls in and out and there was no storage to speak of.  Chuck and the girls were set on the Pilot that they even spent half an hour (in a snow storm!) trying to configure the seats in such a way that they could get in and out on their own.  Emmie and I watched this comedy unfold in the warmth of the dealership.  They claimed to have set them up in such a way that it was functional, but as soon as they opened the back and the stroller came crashing out I turned to the salesman and said we will take a new minivan in whatever color you have on the lot.  Would I like a test drive he asked?  Nope, I am well versed in the minivan ways, just get the paperwork ready and bring it around.  If looks could kill I would have been dead 3 times over when the rest of my familia walked back in.  I swear to all that is holy even the baby was giving me the stink eye.  So we head home in the minivan and surprisingly everyone is happy.  It was an upgraded version with all sorts of bells and whistles so the girls thought it was super cool.  Though they did make me promise that the next car we get is a Pilot.
So back to the story.  The Range Rover sees the blind man and stops in plenty of time.  He does not need to slam on his brakes, he comes to a complete stop in such a way that me, 2 cars behind can see him stop and stop safely as well.  The car between us, yeah, not so much.  She plows right into the Range Rover.  She had to have been texting or something to not see a huge car stop right in front of her.  Her airbags deploy and her car is totaled.  All 3 of us were in the left lane.  I immediately try and get over to the right lane so I can get out of the way.  Just as I start to move the girl jumps out of her car.  She is standing on the median, she must not have put her car in park because it starts rolling backwards.  I start beeping my horn to get her attention.  She finally sees what is happening and kind of jumps in her car half way.  So she has one leg in the car and one out as she is running alongside it.  If she weren’t about to slam into my car it would have been kind of funny…you know kind of like one of those mad-cap scenes in a totally cheesy, predictable comedy.  There was nothing funny about this!  Sure as I am typing this her car slams into my brand new car.  I am pretty sure everyone in a 50 mile radios heard some pretty salty language come out of me.  I finally pull over, get out and head to the scene of the crime.  When I get there and say that I was from the minivan she just hit she had no idea what I was talking about.  Now, I give her the benefit of the doubt since she did just get hit in the head by the airbags but as our interactions went on it became obvious that her social skills and level of understanding was dubious at best.  I tell her that my car was less than 2 weeks old to which she replies, “yeah, I know mine is only 2 years old”…um, OK, not that same thing AT ALL, but whatever.  I ask if she has insurance, she didn’t know…she needed to call her dad.  Thankfully she did!  So Mr. Range Rover comes strolling over.  Handsome guy, decked out in an expensive looking suit.  He lets us know he has called the police already.  Great.  So what does the girl do?  Walk away.  She took a little stroll down the street talking to herself.  OK, we all cope with stress in different ways.  So as I start asking for everyone’s info Mr. Range Rover hands over his business card.  Of course he is an attorney.  So the girl says now word of a lie, TO THE GUY SHE JUST SLAMMED IN TO, “so since you are an attorney will you be able to help me if I get in trouble for this?”  At this point I am seriously starting to look around for a hidden camera.  This has to be a joke…a blind guy, an attorney, a girl that I am starting to suspect has some pre-existing "issues", a car crash and me.  So it takes over an hour for the police to come.  In that time the girl saunters up and down the street several times, which is a VERY  busy 4 lane road I should add.  I am making calls to Chuck, work and my insurance company on a phone that is slightly and I mean ever so slightly better than 2 tin cans and a string (this whole incident shamed me into getting a new phone…I will write about that another time!)  Since my car was brand new there was nothing inside.  All I could scrounge up was a pen that had no ink, but did leave a pretty good indent in the one scrap of paper I could find.  If worse came to worse I figured I could retrieve the information by doing a primitive crayon rubbing and accessing it that way.  Now, had this accident happened in my old van not only would I have my choice of writing utensil I would have enough food scraps, blankets, random mittens and half full juice boxes to keep us all alive for several weeks.  Oh, did I mention it was 4 degrees that day with a wind-chill of -12?  I did happen to have some business cards on me due to the fact I had given the presentation earlier in the morning.  She takes it and sees that I work for one of the local medical centers.  She then says to me, “ Oh, I work at  ( a local social service agency)” and then stares at me as if to say, so since we both work in the helping field we should be besties.  This whole thing is getting more and more bizarre…

So the police show up.  The officer is a woman who is probably 90 pounds WITH all her gear on.  Don’t get me wrong…she looked as if she could take all 3 of us blindfolded with one hand tied behind her back.  That is why I bit my tongue so hard when she asked if the blind guy was around so she could talk to him.  It took everything I had not to say, “Why? It is not like he saw anything”, but I didn’t not want to finish the day off sitting in a jail cell for being a wise ass so I asserted my right to remain silent.   She takes all our info and our statements and sends the attorney on his way…he was late for court.  Oh, not before the girl asks the two of us if this were all her fault.  In my head all I could hear was Steve Urkel saying, “Did I do that?”  Again, I scan my surrounding but no camera.  An ambulance pulls up and takes the girl to be checked out.  The officer told me she felt as though she may be a bit disoriented.  Um, yah think?  Though I really think that may be her baseline.  She was a sweet girl and I did feel bad for her.  I just kept telling her that we were all OK, no one got hurt and we will straighten it all out later.  Though I really wanted to scream at her because she had to be texting or talking on the phone.  There was no way she could have slammed into the Range Rover if she were not driving distracted.  That is a huge pet peeve of mine.  I don’t text to begin with and I only talk on the phone if I am pulled over…just not worth the risk.  OK, I will get off my soapbox now.  So somehow I am the last one at the accident scene.  Two hours after my minivan was violated I finally was able to head home.  As I walk through the door the girls pounce…is the car OK?  Can you still drive it?  Not one ounce of compassion towards me, no, hey mom you OK?  Did you get hurt mom?  Nope…all the cared about was the minivan that they didn’t want to begin with anyway!!
So all night I sit and stew over the fact that Chuck and I can never have anything nice.  We try to but either the kids or the cats ruin it within the first 24 hours.  I guess we should count our blessings and rejoice in the fact that we did have a shiny new car for 13 whole days.

So the next day I am over it and take Anna and the baby out for a while.  We head to Target.  We run into my brother and his daughter.  I am telling him all about the previous day’s high jinks when I sh*t you not, my license plate number is called over the loud speaker!  I immediately panic and think I left the baby in the car on this freezing cold day.  Nope, she is quietly sitting in her stroller right in front of me.  Then I think that I must have left the car running…it has a push button start and I still wasn’t used to pushing the button to turn it off.  So me, my brother and the kids head over to the courtesy desk.  Then I am hit with panic…was it stolen?  Was it hit again?  A pimply, faced teenage security guard comes walking over to me.  I ask if I left it running, nope.  I asked if it were stolen…nope.  I ask if it were hit again?  YEP!  My brother, THE POLICE OFFICER, bursts out laughing!  Really Dave?  I hope that he handles crisis situations at work better than he did with me.  So as he is laughing and laughing exclaiming, rightly so I might add, "that you cannot make this sh*t up!!  Everything always happens to you!”… as we listen to him giggle at my expense,  the baby and I head out to the parking lot with the Teen Target security guard to check out the damage.  I am sure this poor boy's virgin ears had heard expressions and things come out of my mouth that he never thought in his wildest dreams were even possible.  In the longest run on sentence I used the work F-*-C-K as a noun, verb, adjective, adverb, pronoun and probably even a mother effing preposition!
Fortunately this one part of the story has a happy ending.  My car was not hit a second time.  Apparently, a Target “guest” saw a blue truck pull out of the spot next to me, saw the damage and the blue paint scrapes and assumed it had been caused by the truck.  They reported it to the Target Security team.  Even though it caused my blood pressure to sky rocket to just under stroke level, I thought that was really considerate of them.  So as I sit and type this, my minivan is in the shop, hopefully being restored to its full glory and I will, hopefully, be a minivan mom again by tomorrow evening!!

Friday, March 28, 2014

My Trophy has Lost its Shine

So remember a few weeks back when I was singing the praises of my epic parenting wins?  Yeah, well those glory days are gone.  Long gone.  No sooner had I hit the publish button on the post that it all went to sh*t, or should I say, back to normal.  Here are a few examples of what I have been up against lately;

So I set the girls up with the computer to watch the eagle cam that everyone is talking about. Of course as soon as we turn it on the mom eagle stands up to reveal a dead squirrel which she immediately rips the head off and feeds to the baby. Typical, I try to show them something scientific and end up traumatizing them instead.  So when they start torturing small animals and graduate on to serial killing I plan to squarely lay all the blame on Berry College...and not my parenting fail.

I recently had the pleasure of carrying one of my children out of dance class kicking and screaming, "I hate you!...You are a jerk! and You ruin everything fun in my life!"  Now, granted, it was not my finest moment but I want to thank all the other dance moms for ignoring the sh*t show they were treated to and for carrying out the dance bags that were left behind.  Long story short one of the girls behavior was unacceptable, I called her out on it and said she had 2 minutes to get it together or we would leave...2 minutes came and went so I had to hold up my end of the bargain.  Unfortunately, their dance studio is in the basement so I had to carry her UP about 15 stairs.  Fun times!!

Anna had a dentist appointment.  It did not go well.  Oh, she cooperated and got her teeth cleaned.  That was not the problem.  Turns out she has a few cavities.  Actually, more than a few.  I would tell you how many but I lost count after 4.  I have tried every kind of fluoride toothpaste with her and she hates them all.  The only one she will use is the toddler training paste without fluoride.  So my thought was; brushing with that was better than nothing.  Um, that would be a big fat WRONG!  So as the dentist was admonishing me for my crappy parenting I start to explain that she may be prone to having cavities...that as a child I had really soft teeth, etc.  To which she answered, "yeah, that was 40 years ago, we know a lot more now."  I put my finger up to say something and the look she gave me shut me up before I could open my mouth.  So I headed back to the store and found some toothpaste that were Crayola Crayons.  It was a pack of 3 colors that you could mix and match AND it had fluoride.  She started to use it begrudgingly.  So a few days later Sara has her cleaning appointment and on the way home was complaining about the flavor toothpaste they gave her.  Anna pipes up with, "well Sara at least mom doesn't make you brush your teeth with crushed up crayons like I have to..."  Somehow even the "fun" toothpaste I bought has me in the dog house with these kids.

So Sara has strep throat.  I poo-pooed her symptoms for a day and a half.  At bedtime she was complaining she was cold.  She was too cold to sleep.  Yeah, yeah Sara.  I got your number...you are trying to stall.  Put on a sweatshirt and some gloves and go to bed.  I send her to school the next day.  That night the same thing...but I notice she is hot, really hot.  103 degrees hot.  This goes on for another 2 days and I call the doctor.  Strep Throat.  Now there are so many words I can use to describe Sara, but, for today I will stick with "high maintenance".  When Sara is sick it becomes a family event.  She is the lead actress and the rest of us are her supporting characters.  Trust me, it is not a drama you want to be involved in.  In addition to Strep Throat -- Sara suffers from severe, intermittent, pseudo- paralysis.  She is able to ride her bike at will.  She can run on the playground and jump on the couch unimpeded.  However, this strange phenomenon happens several times a day when she is completely unable to walk.  This usually happens when she needs to throw something away, wants a drink or snack or when it is time to clean up.  There also has been no sleep for any of us this past week.  OK, I take that back...I have had a solid 1/2 hour every night.  For some reason that has not been entirely compatible with activities of daily living for example; I am running at a solid 0 for 10 when it comes to getting any of the girl's names right on the first try.  I have been eating pumpkin seeds at meal times because I am too flipping tired to prepare something real.  Oh, and here is a good one...I was rushing around to get myself and the 3 girls ready the other day.  I had to switch days at work for a meeting.  Shockingly a million and one things come up as I am trying to get ready.  Someone needs breakfast, the phone rings, Emily poops herself at an inopportune time...you know the drill.  So we get out the door on time, by the skin of our teeth I might add.  I get to work and head right to the conference room.  Huh, its empty.  Where is everyone?  I ask around and no one knows about the webinar.  Turns out it is NEXT Wednesday.   AAAARRRRHHHHH!!!  Well, that is about right these days.  So I go about my day at work and about an hour before I am to go home I walk by the full length mirror in the locker room.  Holy effing sh*t!  What the hell happened to me?  My camisole has a huge spit stain right in the middle of it.  But, that is not the worst of it my friends...not by a long shot.  Oh no...it gets better.  My hair doesn't look quite right.  Now, I don't have the best hair...I used to have cool hair before kids.  Now it is just mom hair.  But I try to make it somewhat presentable before work.  Not today.  This is my best guess as to what happened on Wednesday;  I must have been mid hair styling, got distracted and never went back to finish.  When I blow dry my hair I pull the top up in a pony tail so I can dry the bottom first.  I have a bob so it really isn't a pony tail, more of a nub, kind of like the stumpy tail on a doberman pincher.  It doesn't even qualify as a messy bun, just a mess.  Well as I go in for a closer inspection I notice that I still have that nubby ponytail and apparently I never finished drying my hair...it is all stringy and disheveled looking.  A wave of embarrassment washes over me.  I have been walking around work like this for 6 hours!!  The only way I could have looked any worse was if I had used a banana clip to hold my hair up.   I didn't even have a comb with me so I decide to just leave it.  It isn't like my poor, unsuspecting colleagues are able to unsee what has already been seen.  To all of you working the day shift on Wednesday I sincerely apologize.

So I guess I should be happy...I am back in my comfort zone of mediocre parenting.  The pressure of being mom of the year was getting to me anyway.


Friday, March 21, 2014

Babies suck...and other random stuff

Sorry for the long gaps between posts.  I have been busy playing school and restaurant and having a 3rd kid really cut into my free time.  I haven't had time to sit and write a proper post, I think I still owe you a "What to Really Expect When Expecting, 3rd Trimester" and I have to fill you in about a car accident I was in, but, in the meantime I am going to share a few observations/quick stories of what has been going on lately;

*  So last night, actually more like really, really early this morning while I was nursing Emily I was clicking through the channels.  Some pretty interesting things on at 2 in the morning.  Anyway, file this one under, "Now, I have seen it all"...Amazing Arms.  What are Amazing Arms you ask?  Oh, my friends to truly appreciate Amazing arms you have to Google them, go ahead...I'll wait......ok, so you're back.  Amazing arms are Spanx for your arms.  They are a compression sleeve to keep your bat wings at bay.  Now, I am not opposed to Spanx...some of my earlier posts are steeped in Spanx infamy.  Hell, I even ensconced my belly bump in pregnancy Spanx.  So in the wee hours of the morning it got me thinking..there are Spanx, or Spanx like products for almost all body parts, belly, back (to get rid of unsightly back fat) thighs all the way down to ankles, bras that minimize, ass and now arms.  So I could conceivably be Spanxed up from neck to ankle.  But all that fat must get squeezed somewhere, right?  So I burst out laughing imagining myself all svelte and sexy with gigantic Fred Flintstone feet and a head the size of something you would see on Mt. Rushmore.  I may do it just for the photo op.

*  The other day while putting socks on I noticed while shaving my legs I have missed a one inch by one inch patch probably all winter.  I am torn...should I shave it and be done with it or braid it like a rat tail a la 1987 and call it a calf tail?

*  I just saw a recent study that lack of sleep causes brain damage.  If you miss big chunks of sleep, even if you get "catch up sleep" you can still have BRAIN DAMAGE.  That answers a lot of questions for me, especially this one; how is that after making the exact same commute to work for 4 years I got lost the other day?  Not just took a wrong turn...all out lost.  Thanks Sara, Anna and Emily, not only have you made me lose my mind, you all have actually permanently damaged it.  Good going.

*  I have an irrational fear.  Most moms worry that if they take their eyes off of their children they are going to get kidnapped.  Nope, not me.  I am worried someone will see Anna wandering and take her to the Pine Street Inn (the local homeless shelter).  No matter what I do Anna forever looks homeless.  She comes out of the tub dirtier than when she went in.  She insists on growing her hair like Rapunzel.  Right now it is halfway down her back and it looks more like Medusa than a Disney Princess.   Not sure how to make her look like she comes from the industrialized world...

*  Speaking of DCF I am one Katy Perry song away from them knocking on my door.  The girls love Katy Perry.  A few of her songs; Roar and Firework in particular are great anthems for girl power.  Her other songs, yeah, not so much.  Currently they can't get enough of her song that comes on right after Roar; Legendary Lovers.  Yes, my 4 year old sings along, "I feel my lotus bloom, come closer...legendary lovers..."  All I need is for her to sing that in her preschool class and I am sure a 51-A will be filed against me before the song is over.  Oh, and they have started requesting, "the birthday song"  which goes something like, get in your birthday suit, time to bring out the big balloons.  I have tried to reintroduce Laurie Berkner, but I guess songs about alligators on your head are not as cool.  The horse has left the barn on that one.

* The girls have been fighting like cats and dogs lately.  I think the horrible winter has definatley given them a wicked case of cabin fever.  Just yesterday they were going after each other and Sara was ticked at Anna for something.  She made her a beautiful picture that said I love you Anna, Love Sara.  Sara then asked Anna if she liked it and of course she said yes.  Sara then proceeded to say "Good, too bad you can't have it" AS SHE TORE IT TO PIECES!!!  I am dreading when I have 3 teen girls at once.  I am going to put the pharmaceutical companies out of business trying to get my hands on as much Prozac as possible once Sara hits 13.

*  Sara had a dentist appointment yesterday.  She was so mad at me for booking it on a holiday.  Don't worry...it wasn't a holiday for normal people, just Sara.  It was the first day of Spring and she was seething that I made her miss out on the holiday.  This is the same kid that was thinking a leprechaun was bringing her something for St. Patrick's Day.  She didn't think I was funny when I said all he brings is a bowl of Lucky Charms.  So as we were heading out Em puked in my hair.  I wiped it out the best I could but we had to go.  We were in the crowded waiting room and I was sitting next to a brooding teen boy.  Anna comes over and announces very loudly, "mom, you smell, really gross...like baby spit and poop".  The boy laughed and laughed.  I guess my good deed for the day was done.  His mom got to see him smile...I guess that is a silver lining.

*  Babies suck.  This is according to Anna.  She is one of the funniest people I know.  I know she is only 4 but she makes me laugh out loud at least 10 times a day.  With her things are right or wrong, black or white, up or down, yes or no.  There is no in between.  No grey area.  She calls everything like she sees it.  Emily is 6 months old, can you stand it?  She is putting everything into her mouth.  So one day she saw Em sucking on a toy and announced, "babies suck".  Sara had a field day with this.  Sara is in kindergarten, the real world...she is a bit jaded, hardened if you will...she knows that suck can have another meaning.  She kept giggling and getting Anna to say it again.  Of course Anna was more than happy to oblige and even took it one step further, "Babies suck, and Emily is the suckiest baby of all"...ah, sisterly love!!!




Thursday, March 13, 2014

It's Just "the bug"...

So when I was little whenever we would get sick my mom would say, "you just have 'the bug'..."  I would automatically conjure up an image of whimsical butterflies and ladybugs fluttering around in my tummy.  It was such a magical explanation for a belly ache.  Well, let me tell you there was NOTHING  magical or whimsical about the "the bug" that plagued me and my poor family over the past week and a half.  There were no cute ladybugs smiling as the went topsy turvy in my tummy.  It was more like cockroaches, wasps, fire ants and stink bugs that laid the smack down on our innards.

Sara was so grumpy one day...I know shocker, right?  Well she was relentless.  It lasted until bedtime...she fought me tooth and nail; she wasn't tired, she couldn't sleep, she had a belly ache...yeah, yeah my friend I have heard it all before.  She ended up coming and sitting next to me on the couch.  Still complaining her stomach hurt I asked if it were a normal belly ache or a different one.  No sooner than the word "different" crossed her lips did she throw up all over herself, the couch, blanket and floor.  Sara is a very particular child and apparently she is too good to throw up in an average bucket...oh no, she can only heave into a soft fabric.  So by 4 a.m. we were out of blankets and towels and had moved on to table cloths.

She is down for the count from Saturday until Tuesday.  Then nothing.  I thought we were in the clear.  I was wrong.  So wrong...

This past Saturday Anna is kind of weepy.  I just think she is over tired.  Now I am not saying our couch is possessed or anything, but...there seems to be a Bermuda Triangle of Vomit hovering over it.  Mid afternoon Anna was laying in the exact spot Sara was and yup, you guessed it.  She starts puking.  Poor bugga.  Being the complete opposite of her elder sister she handles it like a champ and gets all the puke into the bucket and rings a bell when she needs us.  Annie is sick all day but insists on sleeping in her own bed.  Sara on the other hand comes looking to snuggle the second she gets a hangnail.  Since Anna has been sleeping all day she is wide awake at 2 a.m.  She makes her way into my bed and we snuggle and watch TV.  She leans over, smiles and kisses me.  Oh how she makes my heart melt.  About 10 minutes later she leans over and smiles...I lean in for the kiss and how do I put this delicately?  Blows chunks all over my face...my eyes, in my nose and mouth...nothing was spared.  Great...  Now my immune system is a ticking time bomb!

By the next morning Chuck gets it.  And of course he gets it way worse than anyone else.  Ever. Since the beginning of time.  He was constantly moaning.  Sara, my worrier, was concerned.  "Mommy, is dad OK?"...yeah, I tell her.  "What is wrong with him?"...oh he has the stomach bug too.  "Mom, should he go to the doctor?"...No, I explain that he will be fine...he has the same bug she had.  I had to reassure her over and over that he was OK.  The moaning continued and finally I had to let her in on one of life's mysteries.  A phenomenon that defies any real explanation...that when boys get sick (no matter how minor the illness) they act as if they are about to die within the hour.  It was a hard truth that as a female she needed to learn at some point.  It is one of those things that as women we just have to learn, take in and just accept it and move on.  Sara finally was in on the joke and she started imitating him and man was she spot on.  I love you babe!!!  But come on Chuck, the Oscars were last week.

Chuck ends up taking a sick day on Monday...something he rarely does.  Just to f*ck with him I decide to get in on the action and start puking too.  Or at least that is the way her perceives it.  As I am coming out of the bathroom from a vomit session he grumbles about how he just wanted to stay home and sleep.  Oh, sorry we ruined your plans...Yeah, like this is how I planned my day off too.

Speaking of the bathroom.  We asked A LOT of our bathroom this past weekend.  With the 4 of us 'throwing and going' we really punished that poor, poor room.  Our bathroom is tiny.  If you are in there with the door closed there is a good bet one of your body parts, be it an arm, leg, knee, elbow or arse is touching some solid surface.   In the 48 hours that we were quarantined I swear I was coming out of there sicker than when I went in.  I think if I came in contact with the bathing suit Farrah wore in Backdoor Teen Mom I would have a much less concentration of germs on me than if I touched the sink in my own bathroom.  Yeah, it was that gross in there.  No amount of bleach I sprayed seemed to take away the sick vibe that was hovering around in there.

It wasn't just my bathroom that was disgusting.  It was the whole house!  Having two and a half kids left to their own devices while mom and dad waited for this plague to pass threw our entire world into chaos.  I can not even begin to describe the mess.  Ever see the show Hoarders Buried Alive?  AMATEURS!!! I was beginning to think we needed a backhoe to come in and just dig us out from all the crafting crap, snack remnants, mounds of laundry and dirty bottles.  I was going to take and post pictures of the squalor we were living in but I thought if DCF caught a glimpse of them they would come and take my kids away.  Truth be told...there may have been a point or two where the thought of making an anonymous call to the hotline crossed my mind.

Now do you think the kids cared that we were sick?  If you answered with a resounding "NO" then you would be correct.  They could not have cared less.  For some reason, even though Chuck and I were down for the count these kids still wanted to play, get a ride to school, read books and eat!  WTF?  So with 6 hours straight of grossness coming out both ends I still had to meet my children's basic needs.  Emily didn't care that I was so weak I didn't even have energy to change the TV channel.  At one point Chuck and I were on the couch, the kids had gone off to play and we were sitting there watching Nick Jr....Dora I think.  So back to Emmie...I am still nursing her.  As we all know, mom's don't get a sick day.  So I try nursing her.  I was dehydrated.  Hadn't been able to keep anything down at all...not even a sip of water.  So my boobs were useless.  They looked normal but I kept trying to tell her, "I got nothing"...Have you or one of your kids ever drank all the juice out of a Capri Sun and then you blow it back up?  It looks full, but, when you suck on the straw it immediately crumples in on itself.  Yeah...nursing was kind of like that.  Or better yet, wasn't there a scene in a Chevy Chase movie, maybe Christmas Vacation, when he carves a beautiful looking turkey, but the second the knife pierces the skin it disintegrates and dust comes flying up?  Again, very similar.  Well, poor Emily was having none of that.  She wanted her milk and she wanted it now damn it!  She was trying to nurse all the while her little hands turned into little fists of fury and she was beating the crap out of my boobies.  I get it.  I have been known to hit of kick a vending machine when my soda doesn't come out.  Now just as kicking the machine is usually an exercise in futility...so was this.  There was no milk coming...all she was doing was banging around the tumble weeds that had started to gather in my boobs.  I guess I will have to start taking Fenugreek again, doesn't that sound like a foreign swear word?  Fen-you Greek!!..No, Fen-you! 

So, thankfully we are all feeling well again and the house is slowly starting to look like the "after"  from Hoarders.  But I want to leave you with a tip...a life lesson I had to, unfortunately, learn the hard way.  If you are less than 48 hours out from a nasty, nasty stomach bug and you get the urge at say 10:30 at night to eat guacamole...just say NO GRACIAS!!!  It will not end well...I speak from experience. 








Thursday, March 6, 2014

It was bound to happen

So Sara and Anna are growing older and with that comes their exposure to the real world.  Up until they started in the public preschool program they lived in a bubble.  Their friends were my friend's kids.  They only knew about shows that I allowed them to watch...in a nutshell the only things that existed to them were things I hand picked for them to know about.

They went off to preschool and the bubble was burst...my kids were exposed to the gritty underbelly of society.  Children other than those I had a preexisting relationship with were there for their friendship...they learned of shows such as "Jessie" and "Dog With a Blog", and subsequently Chuck and I are forced to watch these unbearably corny programs...they learned 2 of my best kept secrets; that there was an American Girl store and Disney was an actual place you go to.  UGH!!  What else were they going to uncover?

They are bright kids.  The girls began to question things.  I knew they would.  Some of the questions I anticipated; "Mom, can I get a tattoo like you?"..."Mom, how did you meet daddy?"..."Mom, why do you have to work and some moms don't?"...I can handle these...I don't get rattled easily.  But this morning it happened.  Sara asked me the question I have been dreading.  Her words made me stop dead in my tracks..."Mom, can we get one of those stick figure, family stickers for the back of our car?"...NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!  I panicked.  I started to sweat.  I mouth went instantly dry.  I started to speak and all that came out was a combination of stuttering and stammering.  GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!!!  You can do this.  You spent thousands of dollars on an eduction in child development. So I did what any self respecting parent would do; I lied.  "Oh, yeah, I have seen those.  The car store puts them on a couple of the cars they sell and I guess our car wasn't one of them."  She bought it and moved on.  Thank God.  Now, I have begrudgingly accepted the fact that I drive a minivan (check out my blog post from way back "The Day I Became a Minivan Mom), but I will be damned if I drive a minivan with a stick figure family on the back.  Nope, won't do it.  I have nothing against them and if you have one on the back of your car no judgement here...well, who we kidding...maybe a little...

I know that since sending the girls out into the world Pandora's box has been opened and one can not unsee what has been seen...but maybe we can shove the stick figure bumper stickers back in and I can home-school.


**In an effort of full disclosure this was not my intended post.  I wrote a really good one about something that happened to me last Friday...one of those 'You can't make this sh*t up' ones.  But, just at the same exact moment I was hitting 'save changes' the delete button was also tapped. I am not one for pointing out others mistakes but I will not be typing while holding the baby any time soon**