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!!
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Monday, December 3, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
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!!
* "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!!
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
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!!!
*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!!!
Saturday, November 3, 2012
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!!
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!!
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