What the What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

Anna:  Mommy, Knock, Knock!

Me:  Who's there?

Anna:  I love you!!!

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

The 40 year old mom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At Last...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How it all began...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is that poop or Cocoa Puffs?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!!

Let's Stay Together?

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

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

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

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

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

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