Tuesday, December 16, 2014

"You clearly aren't a teenager"

So I have since I turned 42 a few weeks back I have been having a bit of a reality check.  I am in my 40's.  Leading up to 40 was kind of crappy.  Then when I turned 40 it wasn't too bad because a few weeks later I found out I was pregnant... something I had been hoping for for a really long time.  Then 41 came and it was still alright because I had my sweet little newborn.  Now at 42 I am officially IN my 40's.  Like the saying goes, "it is what it is"...and I was just going to have to accept it...plus, I thought, it's not like I LOOK like I am in my 40's.  I think I could easily pass for much, much younger.  Apparently the local police department does not feel the same.

I was pulled over the other night...I get my registration and license ready ( oh Chuck was in his car right behind me and he just drives right by me....way to have my back babe!)..the officer comes to my window and says, "your all set mam, we are looking for a silver minivan with 2 teenagers in it...you clearly aren't a teenager." "Hey that is police brutality!" I said. The officer chuckled and sent me on my way.

While driving home my rage began to build.  "Clearly"...really it was dark out, was it really that clear I wasn't a teenager?  Maybe I was a a wild, throw caution to the wind, hot wire a minivan and go for a joy ride, reckless teen.  How did he know without properly checking my ID?  Maybe I was driving around with a fake ID?  How did he know I wasn't 19 and still using my Joanie Jacamoni alter ego?  Now, of course none of that was true but did he have to put such emphasis on the word "clearly".  As the outrage grew during my little 1.5 mile drive home I decided I was not going to stand for this damn it!  

African American's had MLK, women had Gloria Steinem, the gay community had Harvey Milk, who the hell do the elderly have?  Betty White? Should I really call in Rose from the Golden Girls to defend my fellow octogenarians?  Because "clearly" I am over the hill.  I am calling the AARP and the protests will start at sundown I thought, looting of the local medical supply store to commence at midnight...walkers, canes and compression socks for all! 

 The day after I got pulled over I came home and found a message on my answering machine...it was AARP calling me about a subscription!   I have since received 2 more messages from them.  A$$holes! After careful consideration and the fear of potentially breaking a hip I called off the protests.  I did however ask Santa for a towel this Christmas...so I could throw it in!!  I am going to start watching Murder She Wrote and basically anything starring Angela Landsbury.  I just ordered myself one of those sweet housecoats you can only find in the back of the coupon magazines that come in the Sunday paper.  I stocked up on hard candies to have in a bowl on a side table and yes, I will have the requisite old person lace doilies under it.  Oh, and I am working on gathering plenty of nick-knacks to have on the table too.  Not sure why but once you hit a certain age your house seems to fill up with nick knacks and, according to the cop I am now that age.  Oh, and as I am typing this I have a  stash of tissues up my shirt sleeve...because you never know.  I am also wearing a sweatshirt with multiple layers of applique...because that's how grannies role.  I have secretly started weeding through the kids stuffed animals and anything on the smaller side now resides in the back window of my car, again, not sure what that is about, but, since I am "clearly" ancient I felt compelled to surround myself with stuffies.  While checking my email today I had a message in my inbox from "Senior Singles"...I am seriously considering checking that one out because, if you remember Chuck left me on the side of the while I was being stopped. 

So, as I carefully open the towel I asked Santa for this year, but before I throw it in, I will carefully fold up the wrapping  paper and save it for next year, because "clearly" that is what on old lady should do.











Thursday, December 4, 2014

21 Again!

So today is the 21st anniversary of my 21st birthday.  I will save you the trouble.  I am 42 today.  How the hell did that happen?  I remember it taking FOREVER to get to my 21st birthday.  From 18-21 though only 3 years seemed like an eternity!  Though I did have some help from my friend Joanie Jacamoni.  She was a 21 year old, blond hair, blue eyed college student from Connecticut.  On occasion she would be my alias on Friday and Saturday nights.  Joanie and I really had no resemblance to each other but that didn’t matter.  I could have produced an ID with the picture of someone from a completely different race and I would have still been able to get into the Spaghetti Club.  I am sure some of my readers remember the Spaghetti club…the beers were cheap, the guys were cute and the night wasn’t complete without a few drunken rounds of us singing “December 1963” or the song better known as “Oh What a Night”.   God those were fun times!  I think my Fisher friends should all meet there for a reunion.
I was living in Spain when I turned 21.  Over there they don’t really have a drinking age so turning 21 isn’t the big deal it is over here.  There would be no drunken pub crawls, no going out with older friends to be initiated (at least legally anyway) no walks of shame the next morning.  Remember those S.L.?  I think you and I made the most epic walk of shame. Ever.  So not to feel like I was missing out on anything I decided to do something fabulous for my 21st birthday.  I went to Switzerland for a long weekend…by myself.  I visited the United Nations in Geneva..went to the International Red Cross Museum ( I was still young and idealistic and wanted to write global, child welfare policy so I was in my nerdy glory) and went sightseeing through the Alps.
The night of my actual 21st birthday I got all dressed up…even had a skirt on if you can believe that…and took myself out to a very swanky restaurant.  I hate looking like a tourist and at that time considered myself very cosmopolitan so I would always decline the English menu and opt for the menu in the native language.  So they handed me a menu in French.  Now, remember, I was living in Spain at the time and could manage quite well within the confines of the Spanish border.  I knew nothing about French.  Sorry Ms. Forti…I really should have paid more attention in your French 1 class.  But, I was not going to let my complete lack of ability to read the menu deter me.  As the waiter approached I pretended to study all of my options.  When it was time to order my dinner I said in my worst French accent, “blah-blah-blah…blah-blah…blah… avec champagne si vou plez”…in his worst English accent the waiter says you want, “blah-blah-blah…blah-blah…blah with champagne”.  Oui.  He again repeats what I order and confirms, yet again that I would like a glass of champagne with my meal.  OUI!  Now I am getting impatient.  So he brings me a glass of chilled champagne and smirks at me as he puts down my dinner.  Turns out I ordered a fried egg with cheese.  Of course I played it off like that is EXACTLY what I wanted for dinner.  Bon appetite! 
Oh, I almost forgot!  I either almost had the most romantic encounter with a European aristocrat or I almost became the inspiration for one of the Taken movies.  So earlier that day I was having some coffee at an outdoor cafĂ©… This beautiful man, the kind you only see in movies or magazines comes and sits at the table next to me.  He was a bit older than me…by maybe 25 years or so…but he was jaw droppingly handsome so I didn’t care.  He strikes up a conversation with me and we are having a really good time chatting.  He tells me that he lives up the mountain a little way and if I wanted he would love to show me around the little town he was from.  Now, of course I wanted to go.  Who wouldn’t want a personal tour of the Alps from a Peirce Brinson look-a-like?  But I thought better of it.  Now, like I said, I could have missed my chance to marry into European Royalty or I could have been chopped up into little pieces and strewn about the beautiful Swiss Countryside.  I will never know…
Fortunately, I survived my Alpine adventure…looking back now and having seen the movie Taken I am not sure I would let my girls move to a foreign country at 20 years old. 
Now, here I am 21 years later.  So for as slow as my first 21 years went by, the second 21 years have flown by!!  I cannot believe that I am 42.  I do kind of throw up in my mouth a little every time I say it.  I had a hard enough time turning 40…thankfully Chuck planned an amazing weekend away to soften the blow.  That being said, I can’t believe that was 2 years ago!!!  I wrote a blog post about turning 40…I will have to repost it.  I thought it was kind of funny.  Surprise, surprise…I ended up getting pregnant when I was 40 so that probably has made the past 2 years fly by.  But remember when you were young?  40 seemed SO old!  Now I am officially “in” my 40’s and I don’t feel old.  I still feel like I need to get someone’s permission when making big decisions…I don’t feel old enough to be responsible for someone else’s life, let alone 3 little lives… I don’t feel old enough to be getting mammograms…I don’t feel old enough to be having parent/teacher conferences… I don’t feel old enough to really be called middle aged…I guess I should channel my inner Joanie Jacamoni and have a good old fashioned out-out night and I am sure that will make me feel my age in no time!

Sunday, November 30, 2014

I Believe...

Since I am blessed with so much free time, yeah right...I waste most of it analyzing my life.  Here are some truths I have come to wholeheartedly believe;

*  I believe that our cat Lucy is an A-hole with a capital A.  If I had not instilled in my kids that when you take a pet into your home it is forever, she would have been gone long ago.  Did you know house cats can live upwards of 20 years...Lucy is only about 8.  Awesome!

*  I believe we have failed Emily as parents.  At 14 months old she knows how to turn on the ipad, find Youtube and watch Peppa Pig.  Yet she struggles with her shape sorter.  McDonalds is always hiring I guess.

*  I believe Common Core math is the downfall of the American educational system.  After the struggles we have had with Sara and her 1st grade homework it may even become the final straw in her seeking emancipation from us.

*  I believe my recent prescription for a low dose sleep medication quite possibly saved my life.  I know for an absolute fact it kept my family from being the next topic of discussion on the Nancy Grace show.

*  I believe once Emily hits school we are going to be spending a lot of time in the principal's office.  She is unbearably cute but man is she a terror!  I already picture her sitting at her little school desk with her chair leaned back, feet on the desk, cracking all the students up with her fake burping sounds.

*  I believe I am pregnant.  Every month.  Dr. Romeo G., the jackass that botched my c-section is the same ass clown that performed my tubal ligation.  Did you know 5 out of every 1,000 tubals fail?  I am not liking those odds.

*  I believe that if Anderson Cooper and I ever met we would be BFF's.  I know he comes from untold fame and fortune, I mean he is a Vanderbilt after all...and I am just a regular, everyday housewife but he would get me.  Really get me and my sense of humor.  Come on Coop...give me a call so we can hang out!

*  I believe that the Dollar Tree should preemptively supply a needle and thread with their stuffed animals.  Anna loves to get one when we are there.   Within an hour of getting it home I have to go all Doc McStuffins on them and sew up a pulled apart seam.

*  I believe that despite being told all through my formative years that I can do anything I set my mind too, I really can't.   I need to give up the idea that I can be my own hairdresser.  I have tried countless times to color my own hair and guess what?  Every time it is a MAJOR fail.  The dark black hair I am sporting right now is exhibit A.  It was supposed to be "medium warm brown".

*   I believe that no matter how hard one tries, you can never, under any circumstance look cool driving a minivan. 




Saturday, November 15, 2014

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

It is.  Really.  From mid October thru Mid January is when I do some of my best parenting.  Why you ask, is my best parenting done during the fall and winter months?  Oh that is easy.  Threats abound.  Starting around October 15th, sometimes a few days earlier depending on the enthusiasm of my children I can start in with the whole, "well if you want to go Trick or Treating then you need to blank."  Blank can be clean your room, pick up the crafts, be nice to your sister...the list is endless really.

 October 31st comes and goes and then it is November 1st.  Have no fear my friends....my epic parenting is in full effect!  Because all I have to do is mention the elf.  Now technically our Elf on the Shelf does not come to stay with us until the day after Thanksgiving, but, just the mere mention of his name gets the kids back on the straight and narrow.  This year the girls have been really testing my patience.  Granted they have all been sick for over a month now, but still, there are some house rules that need to be followed regardless of the germ factor.  So in an effort to get them back on track I casually mentioned that there is a shortage of elves this year and they are being particularly selective in which families they go to visit. I told them how I saw on the news that very morning that since there were not enough elves for all the children they were only going to homes where the children were on their best behavior, they kept their rooms clean and who were nice to their moms.  Sara, my skeptic, did not believe me and wanted me to call her Auntie Jen.  I picked up the phone and dialed...Sara insisted I put it on speaker phone before she answered, lest I let my sister in on the deceit.  I told her Sara did not believe me about the elf shortage I heard about on the news.  My sister, who has executed similar lies in the past said not only did she see in on the news, she got an alert on her iphone the night before.  Well played Jen, well played.  As soon as I hung up Sara put her books away that had been lying on the floor for a few days.  It isn't Thanksgiving yet so I still have some time to keep up this charade until Buttery, our elf appears.  I really think the local TV stations should put together some phony PSA's about this elf shortage.  They seriously would be doing such a great community service for their viewers.  I would even pay one of the local anchors to make one...hint, hint

Once the elf is here it is smooth sailing until Christmas.  If the kids misbehave all I have to do is glance Buttery's way and they snap right back into doing the right thing. Santa comes and brings the girls their presents and that is all well and good, but it doesn't end there.  Santa has 2 weeks to come and take their stuff back if they are acting like turds.  So now you can see why for me it is...the most wonderful time of the year!! 

Now, thankfully my kids know that I am not going to write a check I am not willing to cash.  Once, several years ago we were at Friendly's and they acted up as soon as we sat down.  Well, no sooner did I scoop them up and leave without so much as a sip of their drinks.  If they were going to act like heathens then no special lunch for them.  Ever since then I have been able to take them to any restaurant and they have the best restaurant manners around.  Just last summer they were told they needed to clean their room by noon time on Labor Day if they wanted to go to the Duck Race...an event they look forward to all year.  They had a good 3 day lead time on that one.  The clock ticked down and they didn't get it done.  Guess what?  No duck race.  They were devastated to learn they needed to wait an entire year for it to come around again.  Yeah, it sucked for me because I love the duck race also, but, it bought me a little insurance if you will...they know I mean business and I mean what I say.  It is just nice to have some helpers from time to time...aka; Buttery the Elf, Santa and the Easter Bunny.

I have heard parents say they are not going to do the Elf because they don't want to "threaten" their kids as a parenting technique.  To that I say; their kids must still be too young to have discovered free will.  Once they realize they are truly in control of what they do there is no going back.  All bets are off and parenting becomes like a Darwinian experiment...survival of the fittest.  I am older and stronger so I am going to prevail...even if I have to play psychological mind games with my offspring.

 Now, I am all about teaching my kids to do the right thing for the sake of doing the right thing...but that is what the other 8 months out of the year are for.  I like to think of this as my little parental vacation.  I spend so much time and energy in trying to be a good mom, role modeling for them that I feel I deserve to coast for a few months out of the year.  Oh, and I get a little break in the spring too.  Thank God for the Easter bunny.  He gives me a 2 week reprieve leading up to his arrival. 

So if you hear me humming to myself about it being "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year"  you will know it really has nothing to do with the birth of baby Jesus but everything to do with me and my quality Holiday parenting.  Oh and don't forget...Santa's watching!!


Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Augmentin...not just for ear infections anymore!!

Totally throwing in the towel.  I have completely given up on trying to anything close to "parenting" today.  I just gave my 13 month old a Kit-Kat for breakfast.  For my foreign blog followers that is a chocolate covered cookie. 

 All 3 of my girls are sick.  All 3 have croup so they have been coughing all night to the point of puking.  Gotta love changing phlegm filled sheets at midnight, 2 AND 3 a.m. Sara has a fever, that is awesome because she is so even keeled baseline, yeah right, throw in a fever and... we have Cybil. 

 Anna is weepy and crying over EVERYTHING.  She has spilled her cereal on the couch twice already...both times completely devastating.  

My lower back has been teetering on the edge of breaking for several days now.  My back finally gave out picking Em up as she tried to crawl off the bed.  Took 4 Tylenol and 1 Advil...can at least move now.


As I was making breakfast Anna gave Em the tissue box "because she wanted it" and she pulled out all the tissues and shredded them on the floor.

Gave Em one of these egg muffin cups I made for my Weight Watchers challenge I am doing, she seemed to love it up until she didn't...then puked it all up on her highchair tray.  

It is only 6:35.  Though it feels like midday since I have been up since midnight.  But that's ok.  Really, it is.  You see I am really, really close to breaking the world record for surviving on the least amount of sleep ever.  Since I gave Emily, still technically an infant, candy for breakfast I may be out of the running for "Mother of the Year 2014"...the complete lack of sleep may be the only accolade I receive this year.  I am a little sad, I was pretty sure I had a decent shot at that Mother of the Year trophy.  Oh well, there is always 2015.

On top of croup Emily has an ear infection.  I am just going to say it...it flat out sucks trying to give a strong willed baby medicine when you have no back muscles to actually hold said baby in any kind of productive way.  I did however realize that in a pinch dried Augmentin can be used to patch drywall.  When that sh*t dries it is like flippin cement.  I know this because with each dose I give about half of it ends up on my clothes, the couch or Emily's face.  It is a bitch to try and get off once it sets in.  

Another valuable lesson I have learned; having a snot-nosed toddler is a very slippery slope to full on white trash.  The girls and I have made that transition with ease.  If Maury and Jerry Springer were out for a walk together and they happened upon my house they would have a knock-down drag out to have us as an exclusive.  Now, fortunately I do know who the father of my children is so I have that going for me, beyond that the girls and I could very easily replace Mama June and her disgusting brood without anyone noticing.  The house is beyond messy.  It is bordering on squalor.  Every craft supply we have is strewn across the floor in the kitchen.  Emily loves to take the cat's dry food and add it to their water bowl, she is convinced they like this sloppy stew she makes for them.  They do not.  The dishes are piled up and if I don't get a burst of energy and actually load the dishwasher it is looking like the kids will be drinking their milk out of Tupperware bowls at lunch time.  I could always play that one off to having a "Turn a Round Tuesday"  where we do everything silly and different.  Huh, like that one?  I am good when forced into a sleep deprived corner.  There are toys everywhere.  I also walked in the kitchen and heard a crack.  I stepped on a plastic spoon.  Turns out there is a whole box of plastic spoons flung around the floor.  Yeah, that's about right. The couch no longer has cushions on it, obviously.  There are cracker crumbs ground into any open floor surface.   If DCF were to show up at my door I am sure the media would be alerted and you would see us on the 6 o'clock news dubbed the next "House of Horrors".  Victoria, I will give you the exclusive rights to the story. 

The baby's face is constantly covered in snot.  I have tried keeping up with it but it is like trying to tame Niagara Falls with a fishing net.  Really, what's the point?  Oh and get this...Emily has amazing timing with meeting her developmental milestones.  Just this weekend she figured out her finger fits perfectly inside her nose!  Yay! (that was said in a quiet, sarcastic voice with my hands half halfheartedly raised)  So now in addition to blowing snot bubbles she lovingly picks stuff out and gets so excited to share her treasures with whomever is the closest to her.  I swear Sara is this close to having an aneurism from seeing Emily constantly digging for gold.  So every now and then Em's nose does take a break and that is fun.  It crusts over and then I have the privilege only mommies get of picking someone else's nose.  I do try to wipe her face clean from time to time, the boogers act like crazy glue so her face is constantly covered with lint, cat hair and just general household grime...but whenever she sees the cloth coming she breaks into what I like to refer to as "the Matrix mode"...she can twist, turn and contort her little 20 pound body in ways that defy all laws of physics. Emily just crawled into the kitchen with a wad of cat hair stuck to her hand...I can only imagine how that went down...patting the cat saying "Niii" (that is how she says nice) and the cat more than likely tried to escape but the cat had no real chance...baby snot is a formidable opponent...the cat ran and the fur stayed.  Poor kitty.  Oh, great news!!  the antibiotic Emily is on will give her diarrhea...her pedi told me so.  Isn't that fantastic?  Looking forward to that!   I was thinking of jumping on the whole Ebola freakout bandwagon and picking up some Tyvek suits from Home Depot.  Maybe that way I have a fighting chance of not getting covered in baby snot again today.  But then I figured, meh who cares?  I will just add my crusted over sweats to the 30 other loads of gross laundry we already have.. 

Anna just asked me for a snack and wanted Halloween candy.  I said, sure, whatever you want.  She said, "mom it IS still kind of morning."  Yeah, I know...I am just too tired to be a good mom today.  She looked at me kind of confused, the look was only fleeting as she ran to the candy bowl and loaded up on Smarties and Peanut Butter cups.

I have given up.  I do blame it on my kids.  Seriously, they are kind of little sh*ts...they could have staggered their illnesses, maybe one a week overlapping at the most 2 kids for no more than 12 hours.  They have been doing that for the past 2 months and I have been keeping up.  All 3 at once?  UGH!!!  I am thinking I must have been jack the Ripper in a previous life.  Honestly, why else would I be punished like this?  I love Emily more than life itself, however, having a child at 40 sounded like a good idea...when it was a hypothetical.  I am going to be 42 in a few weeks.  I am too old for this crap!!!

 

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

No pants? No problem.

So the other day I took Sara to the dentist.  In the waiting room there was a mom with 4 children.  They all kind of looked like her so I assume they were all hers.  Two of them were wild--with a capital 'W".  One of them, about 3-4 years old had a dirty shirt on and a diaper.  That was it.  No pants.  Now, the old me would have totally shook my head and thought "what an awful mother."  When I say "old" I mean me-- but before I had kids.  I have said this over and over again and I will say it until the cows come home; I was an awesome mom---before I had kids.  But the mom version of me barely glanced at the kid in a diaper and just kind of gave the other mom a slight head nod, like, "yeah...been there."  Most days I can hardly get pants on myself, let alone a defiant preschooler and you just have to pick your battles.  I am sure that mom was having a "day".  That is what I call days when everything goes wrong, the kids are acting like turds, and I just want to hit rewind and start all over.  I call them "days" because I don't really think they are bad days...any day I wake up and my children are still with me and healthy is a good one.  So I just go with 'days'.  So why do I bring this up?  Because, like I said, the old me would have been so judgmental of that mom.  Sadly, I am sure she got a lot of holier than thou looks that day...and what is even sadder is that I bet most of them came from other moms.

I never really believed in the whole "Mommy Wars" concept.  I thought it was just a myth started by some writer for a ladies magazine that was short on material with a deadline looming.  This past week I have seen some pretty nasty things that made me realize the mommy war is real and the battle is raging!

I am part of a few Facebook groups for moms.  They are meant to be a place where moms can go and ask questions in a supportive, non judgmental way.  There are so many times I see a post and think to myself, really? Did they just really ask that?  If I don't have any value to add to the conversation I just don't say anything.  If there is a topic I don't agree with, some of the hot topics are vaccinations, sleep training, VBAC's, healthy foods, I just stay out of the thread and go on with my life.  Just because I don't agree doesn't mean I am right and they are wrong or vice versa.  The anger and downright meanness coming from those groups and some online articles with comments posted to them, have made me see that despite what I thought, us moms aren't all in this together and moms can be a pretty judgmental group.

I have my own way of parenting my children.  My friends might do it a little different.  Hell, Chuck does it differently.  Many people have the complete opposite style from me.  You know what?  We are all doing what we think is best for our kids.  There is no right or wrong way to parent.  I believe you do what is best for your particular family.  Now, if I see someone beating their kids, then yes, I would call them out on it.  Short of physically harming your child I am going to let you deal with your kids your way and I will deal with mine my way. 

So that being said, here is how I am raising my children;

The only time I buy organic foods is when they are on sale and they are the better price point for the item I am purchasing.

I vaccinate myself and my children.  I don't believe the government is trying to poison us and I don't believe they cause Autism.  I do believe in protecting my kids from dreaded diseases.

My girls love frozen waffles with butter, syrup, chocolate chips and sprinkles for breakfast.  I off set it with healthy choices the rest of the day.

Emily, who is my lightest, fairest child loves playing with a very dark skinned black baby at her playgroup.   She is so happy playing with that baby I put a black baby doll at the top of her list for Santa.

Anna loves wearing superhero undies.  A black Batman pair is her favorite.

I don't feel my house is really clean until it smells like good, old fashioned Comet and bleach.  I don't feel vinegar does the trick.

I had a repeat C-section...could have tried for a VBAC but didn't want to blow out my uterus.  I labored for 36 hours with Sara before having a section.  24 hours of that was un-medicated, not by choice...just a bunch of hippie nurses telling me I didn't need them.  The last 12 hours I labored much more comfortably with a constant flow of pain medication and that was WAY better!!

I don't allow electronics during meal times, at restaurants or in the car (except if it is a really long car ride, like more than 1.5 hours).  I think my girls should be able to entertain themselves and I think ipods/ipads in a restaurant are rude. I also believe there should be family conversations around the dinner table. Every night we all go around and talk about the favorite part of our day.

In that same vain I limit their TV watching during the day.  For no other reason except it makes my life easier.  They are total nags when they zone out in front of the TV, "Mom, I need a snack"..."Mom can you gt me a drink?"...if they are off playing they are much less work for me.

I have used the proper names for all their body parts from the get-go.  They know girls have a vagina and boys have a penis.  At the same time I totally lie to them on super hot or super cold days...I say the news reporters said we have to stay in today due to the weather.

I am not a huge advocate for co-sleeping with your kids.  I like having my own bed.  That being said, Emily was in her crib for 12 months and now at 13 months she has been joining us in bed at around midnight.

Sara is going to be 7 next week.  Her favorite TV show is The Middle.  I let her watch it.  She also loves any type of doctor show, for her the gorier the better.  Again, might not be the most appropriate shows, but I let her watch them.

She also knows about my not so secret crush on Anderson Cooper.  She knows that the Coop and I could never be together...not just because I am married to Chuck, she knows that the Silver Fox has a boyfriend.  It is just another random fact to her because, like Katy Perry says, "it's no big deal!"

Speaking of Katy Perry, my girls (Emily included) prefer her music to that of Laurie Berkner (a great kid's singer).

There is a bully in Sara's class.  They have been together for the past 2 years.  The girl is relentless.  I have given Sara some problem solving skills...ignore her, walk away, tell the teacher...they haven't worked.  Just the other day I finally told her just to be mean right back to her.

I think the score should be kept in little kid's soccer & baseball games.  Sometimes in life there is a winner and sometimes a loser.  Good life lesson to work harder.

I don't throw the game to let my kids win when we play a board game.  The winner is the winner fair and square.

I make my kids wear helmets every time they get on their bikes, even if they are riding a tricycle.

I had my kids later in life.  My vocabulary was already well established.  Swears sometimes just come out.

The biggest debate of all....Stay at Home Mom vs. Working Mom!!  I work part time.  I feel like I have the luxury of being a mostly stay at home mom.  On the days I am home I can't wait to get out of the nut house.  On the days I work I gripe about having to get everyone ready and out of the house on time.  I see the pros and cons to being a stay at home mom and a working mom...and truth be told, if I had to pick I am not sure which side of the fence I would come down on.

So that is my parenting style.  Chuck's is different.  When I am not home it is a whole different ball game.  We don't always see eye to eye on issues, but the kids are alive and happy when I come home from work so that is all that matters.

I am not saying I do it all perfect.  I know I don't.  I make it up as I go along each day.  I am sure I am doing many things right...I am just as sure I am doing things my children will bring up in therapy later in life.  I am pretty sure the perfect parent is as real as a purple, flying unicorn. 

So the next time you see a kid out and about without pants...don't judge...just be thankful you were able to get your kids dressed before heading out into the world.  Because at one time or another we are all going to be 'that parent'. 













Monday, October 13, 2014

I'm Electric! Boogie, woogie!

Yeah the story I am about to tell you is a lot less fun than the Electric Slide...

Sorry I have been MIA lately, a whole lot going on and at the same time nothing really going on.  I have been meaning to sit down and write a blog but I just have not had more than 3 minutes to myself the past few weeks.  The following are a few things some of my faithful blog readers might get a kick out of.

So a few posts back I mentioned I was suffering from carpal tunnel and I needed to have an EMG.  Well, surprisingly EMG did not stand for the "Easy Muscle Guidance" I was hoping.  Oh no my friends.  There was nothing easy about this test.  Not by a long shot.  So I walk in the room and I see a bunch of electrodes, computer screens and a bed.  The doctor has me get up on the bed and take my shoes off.  Huh, shoes off, oh it must be so I don't get the bed sheets dirty...sure no problem.  I took them off and got comfortable.  IT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH KEEPING THE BED CLEAN!!!  It was so I wouldn't kick them at the doctors head as he shocked the sh*t out of my poor T-Rex arms!  After hooking me up he said, and I quote, "you might feel a slight tingling".  Effin Bastard was a LIAR!  After the first pulse I shrieked like a school girl.  It hurt like a son of a bitch.  He would shock me and move the probe to another part of my arm.  I could see the electrical wave length on the computer...sometimes it would spike up and sadly other times it didn't.  I quickly learned that was not good.  It meant he would have to shock the same spot again, only this time he would dial it up a bit...literally, he would spin the dial up a few notches to get a higher voltage.  I would sit there all tensed up, barely breathing waiting for this torture to end.  Finally after about 10 minutes it did.  Then on to another fun part of the test.  He took super long needles, stuck them right into my arm, deep into my muscle and then he made me move my arm to measure the muscle.  That was awful, but believe it or not it was way better than getting shocked for 10 minutes straight.  I survived!  Thank Christ!  Then it hit me...he was going to have to do the same exact thing on the other arm.  At this point I am vibrating with either pain, electricity or sheer fear...or a combo of all 3.  So I try to make small talk to at least have some sort of distraction during this very, very uncomfortable procedure....that is the Child Life Specialist in me.  Well, I get the one person on the planet with absolutely no sense of humor...at all.  I was saying how this torture device could come in handy, imagine if your nemesis came in for an EMG...you could dial up the voltage and really make them your b*tch.    Now, I know the first rule of medicine is first due no harm...well I am calling BS on that because this test really was causing me harm, but this doctor didn't even crack a smile, he just said as dry as can be, "I never thought to do that...I would never do that"...now come on!!  Never crossed your mind?  Like ever?  I find it really hard to believe that in between patients when he is alone in his chamber of pain he never thought of ramping it up a point or two for some belligerent a-hole of a patient.  I like to think of myself as a kind, compassionate person but let me tell you, if anyone were to cross my children I have at least 3 murder plots in my head I could pull from on a moments notice.  But hey, I guess that is just me.  I survived the test, put my shoes on and hit the road.  I swear to God I was so full of electricity, if my car died that day, or who we kidding?... anytime that month all I would need to do is open the hood, lay my hands on the battery and it would start right up.  I was afraid to take a shower for fear of electrocuting myself but I did my community service and did bathe....you are welcome.  Fortunately my muscles/nerves were fine and at this point I don't need surgery...even if it flares up again I am just going to pretend everything is just fine...

So Sara has been super sick this past week.  High, high fevers for 5 days, stomach pains, etc.  Thankfully she is fine now, but it was a miserable stretch.  So one night at about 3:30 she woke up absolutely miserable.  She was burning up and her fever was 104.  Of course all I have at home are grape chewable Advil tablets and berry flavored generic Tylenol.  Sara will only take Grape flavored liquid Advil.  I know this and for some God forsaken reason I only remember this smack dab in the middle of the night...never in the afternoon while I am leisurely strolling the aisles at CVS.  Yeah right, when was the last time I ever did anything leisurely?  Sometimes I make myself laugh...but I digress...so here I am finding myself driving to a 24 hour pharmacy at 4 a.m.  It is really dark and spooky out, of course their is really thick fog to add to the already unpleasant drive.  I see a shadow up ahead...it is an elderly lady walking down the street at 4 a.m.  OK, so now I am freaked out...did I really see her? Is my mind playing tricks on me and it was just a thick patch of fog?  Was it a ghost?  She did have a bright orange vest on so I am hoping it was just an octogenarian out for her early morning constitution.  Either way it was super creepy and it made me speed it up a bit.  So now I am a few towns away about a mile from the 24 hour CVS I was heading to when I come upon a 24 hour Rite Aid.  I slam on the brakes and pull into the Rite Aid.  Now, if you have never been to a Rite Aid at 4 a.m. let me tell you...It is quite the adventure.  There were only a handful of us in the store and I can say with almost 100% certainty I was the only one with anything close to a full set of teeth.  At first I didn't see anyone.  I am wandering around seemingly alone when I happen upon one sales associate sitting on the floor.  She had a bunch of products strewn about on the floor in what looked like an attempt to restock the shelves.  I say attempt because there was only one box of tooth whitening kits on the shelf and she didn't look like she had much energy, or desire for that matter to place any more kits on the shelf.  I asked her where the children's pain relievers were and she halfheartedly  pointed me towards an empty wall.  OK then.  I ventured on because wandering the aisles of a Rite Aid in the middle of the night was clearly something on my agenda for the day.  I stumble upon a young guy and ask him where the children's meds were.  Just as I ask him I notice  they are right in front of me and man does that strike him as funny.  He laughed and laughed like this was the funniest thing in the world...ever!  He may or may not have been under the influence of an illegal substance.  The only other person in the store looked like a stereotypical, pedophile-looking creepy guy.  Kinds of looked like Kev from the show Derek.  (Side note:  if you have not seen the Netflix show Derek, you NEED to check it out!  So, so good!)  Now, in defense of the creepy pedophile I did look a bit white trash myself.  OK, really white trash.  Had I wanted to, I could have driven to the Rite Aid or the Jerry Springer show and fit right in either situation.  I had on some black yoga pants...I know, ironic as I have never once done yoga.  Needless to say I don't exactly have a "yoga" body and should not, under any circumstance wear yoga pants without an extremely long shirt over them.  I did not have that type of shirt on.  I had whatever T-shirt I was wearing to bed.  I may or may not have had a bra on.  A sweatshirt and baseball hat.  Flip flops or sneakers tied the look together.  I was so sleep deprived I can't remember which.   So as this guy is skulking around the store looking for God knows what I find what I need and head to the checkout.  Of course, because I was really looking to get in and out quick there was no one to be found.  I start to head back to the back of the store to find the oh so helpful sales associates.  Emphasis on the ASS.  As I am walking back there I am thinking this is the perfect store/time for someone to rob them blind...at least of the stuff in the front of the store.  The two workers are sitting on the floor between the aisles all the way in the back of the store.  Oh and yeah, they are stoned out of their ever loving minds.  So if any of my blog readers happen to be of the criminal persuasion and you need to find your next place to rob, you're welcome...oh and I'll take some packs of Nyquil if you can score some.  I also come to the realization that if some sh*t were to go down, I am the brains of the group and I would have to go all Rambo on their asses.  Thankfully we did not come under siege from a marauding gang of suburban hooligans. After circling the store several times I find myself in the checkout line behind our local version of "Kev" and he is arguing with the saleslady, who if you remember correctly is not of her right mind.  He is arguing over a 30 cent price difference.  They went back and forth for a good 4 minutes.  I wanted to punch them both in the throat, take my Grape friggin Advil and go.  I did not.  Why?  Not because I felt the moral obligation not to steal that sh*t, but because I know I would mostly likely get arrested and if anyone, anywhere EVER saw the God awful mugshot that would be taken I would have to enter witness protection.  I would never be able to live that one down.  So I stand and patiently wait my turn as I come up with several very plausible ways to dispose of a body and never be caught.  Consider yourselves warned.  So I finally get home, give Sarita her meds and try to shake off that whole experience.  Sara is much better now and I have Grape Advil on my shopping list and trust me, I will make sure we never run out of it again!

Last but not least we have a thief living among us.  For the privacy of my children and just in the off chance she may want to run for public office someday I will not divulge her name.  So one day we headed out to get some stuff at Wal-Mart.  I had a list ready and prepared the kids ahead of time we were not getting anything that was not on the list.  No Exceptions.  Of course they bombard me the second we get in the store.  We are in the craft section and one of them sees a red feather boa and asks for it.  I remind her yet again we are not straying from the list.  She begrudgingly puts it back and gives me the stink eye the entire rest of the trip.  A few hours later we are home and one of them pulls a large red feather from behind her back and asks the other one if she wants it.  The one not holding the feather asks if she got it from Wal-Mart and she says "yeah".  Well that is it!  The one sister, who happens to be of the anxious variety starts panicking.  "You stole that!", "You are going to go to jail!", "What if the police find out?"...the phone rings and she is having a full blown anxiety attack...she is sweating, turning pale, crying and trembling "Mom, is that the police?"  "Are they coming to get ________?"..."What are we going to do?".   Mind you, the stealee is cool as a cucumber.  I assure the nervous nelly that the police were not on the phone and they were not coming to get her sister.  So the criminal totally has her defense in place...."_______ it is only one feather...it is not a big deal."  This sets the other one off again.  Now I know that I am going to have to address this with my delinquent child but, it was not the time.  I could not gather myself together enough to complete a sentence without giggling.  So I let it go.  The next day I am alone with the crook and I bring up the illegal feather.  I ask her about the red feather.  I ask her if she took it from Wal-Mart and she said yes.  I said, "you didn't have any pockets of a coat on, where did you put it?"...""in my pants" is the answer I got.  We had a whole chat about having to pay for things, even just one feather, etc., etc.  It ended in tears and me apologizing to her about how it is my job to teach her what is OK and what isn't and I must not have done a good job teaching her about ownership.  So we moved on.  A few days later it hit me...she hid the flippin feather in her pants...so that goes to state of mind; she knew what she was doing was wrong!!!  She covered up her crime.  She is good, wickedly so.  Just like a true con artist...she turned it all around so I was the one who felt like I had done wrong.  Well played my nefarious little felon...well played indeed.

So like I said, not as fun as the electric slide, but it will have to do for now.