Again, sorry for the huge gap between posts. I have not been in the mood to write since my mom died. Anyway, I figured I would give it a try today and see if I can write myself out of the funk I have been in. Here goes...
So after coming home from my mom's services I decided we needed a distraction from all the sadness we had just endured. Chuck agreed and we hastily booked an overnight at the new Great Wolf Lodge that opened up not too far from us. We booked the fancy room with the Wolf Den bedroom for the kids...like anything cool we try to do, it, of course came back to bite us in the ass. So two days later we spring the kids from school a little early and head to the hotel. Chuck and I are so excited because we have kept it a secret from them. We are driving in the middle of nowhere and neither of them ask where we are going...I am so disappointed. Finally about 5 minutes from GWL I make them guess where we are going. After a boatload of clues Sara figures it out.
So we get to the hotel, get registered and settle into our room. The girls are so excited and LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the cool wolf den bedroom with the bunk beds. We get our bathing suits on and head for the water park. There are so many cool water slides, wave pools and water toys kids will be entertained for hours. Yeah, except mine. Safety Sara insists on wearing one of the community life jackets provided by the park...even when she is in the wave pool. Oh, and when I say she is "in" the wave pool I mean her feet, ankles and her shins are in the wave pool. Yet, she still insists on the life vest. I guess you never can be too careful. On the complete opposite end of the spectrum we have Emily, the baby, whom left to her own devices would sail over Niagara Falls in a barrel if we let her. That kid has no fear and no sense. Not a good combo in an everyday setting, a recipe for disaster in a water park. Poor Chuck was on Emily duty for most of the trip. Then we have Anna...she had fun for about 28 minutes and then decided she was done. So we change up, have dinner and hit the arcade.
Bedtime comes and they excitedly climb into the bunk beds in the wolf den. The baby is in the pack and play and Chuck and I settle into our bed. I am so physically and emotionally exhausted I just want to get a good night's sleep. Not more than three tenths of a second after I close my eyes I hear it..."mom...mom...hey mom..." OK, so one of my children has long straight hair that she parts in the middle and she is an extremely pale child. I swear to all that is holy on more than one occasion she has woken me from a deep sleep and when I see her standing over me in my bed I nearly sh*t myself thinking she is a ghost. Anyway, back to the story...without boring you with all the details Sara is terrified of the wolf wallpaper that is their little bedroom...she ends up in bed with Chuck and I end up on the pull-out couch...oh, and at some point the baby ends up on the couch with me.
So morning comes and we get ready for the water park again. We head down and are about 30 minutes too early so we hang out in the arcade. I need to use the bathroom so I head back to our room...and wouldn't you know it...friggin fire alarm is going off so we can't get back to our room!! I only brought one bathing suit and it is still damp from the day before so in addition to having to hold my pee indefinitely (sorry, there is no way in hell I am going to pull my bathing suit down and be pretty much naked in a public bathroom) I am freezing.
So we spend some time wading ankle deep in the pools. When the girls have had their fill of the human stew that is a public pool we change up and have lunch. As we are heading back to the kiddie rides we get handed a formal memo from one of the life guards outside of the pool. I take a glance at it and it says the pool will be closed due to an "Accidental Fecal Release"...huh? Oh my God! Someone sh*t in the pool! Someone sh*t in the pool and now it is closed. Now, of course this being me and my family it is no ordinary poop. No my friends, this is super poop! Cryptosporidium to be exact. Now, you may not be familiar with this super sh*t butt, pun intended, being the nerd I am I knew exactly what it was. I am an avid viewer of Monsters Inside of Me. Dan Riskin, the biologist that hosts the show is a friend in my head. I swear to God if someone gets infected with Bot Bot fly larvae I could remove that thing in my sleep. So if you feel something crawling around in your head and you recently spent time in the tropics give me a call and head over with some Vaseline and tweezers...I can have you good as new in no time. But back to the Crypto. So the memo goes on and says that the pool will need to be closed for 18-24 hours per the CDC!! Yeah, it is that kind of super poop! Cryptosporidium is not your run of the mill diarrhea...it is sh*t that is encased in a hard shell. I sh*t you not!! It is crap ensconced in shell a la M&M's. So seeing that I have the sense of humor of a 12 year old boy I start envisioning some kid popping a squat in the corner of the pool unleashing a torrent of mini M & M-style crap out of their ass.
Now I am curious, how did they know it was super sh*t and not just your everyday turd? Who has that glamorous job of testing each loaf? I hope they get combat pay for that duty...ha-ha...see what I did there? Duty? Oh, and how do they know it was an "accidental" release? Maybe some parent had it and was ready to stick needles in their eyes and decided to take their morning sit-down in the pool instead. I mean it is kind of a brilliant plan. Think about it. Once the pool is closed there really isn't that much to do and you could pack it in early and head home. Or, another thought I had was this; there is alcohol available for the adults. A lot of alcohol. Maybe one of the dads had a few too many the night before during the mind numbing story time/dance party. It is conceivable that while in the pool with his kids he let one rip and unfortunately it was more than a fart. Who knows? It could have been a case of the beer sh*ts that shut the place down. I guess I will never know.
Since returning from Great Wolf Lodge I have heard from 2 friends that have gone. Both of them reported being the victims of an AFR. That is what they call them there. I guess they happen so frequently the staff can't be bothered to say it in full each time. An Accidental Fecal Release is so common it is now simply referred to as an "AFR".
So the take away from our Great Wolf Lodge adventure is this; don't pay extra for the fun kids room if any of your children are afraid of paper wolves potentially attacking them in their sleep, bring your own Clorox bleach wipes...you never know when you may need to bleach your entire family down and if you think you may have to urge to stick needles in your eyes due to excess forced family fun, make sure to have a pack of mini M & M's on hand so you can inconspicuously drop them in the pool and yell, "Holy Sh*t! We have an AFR over here!!" You are welcome!
Saturday, March 21, 2015
Sunday, February 15, 2015
42 years, 1 month, 14 days, 6 hours and 57 minutes...
That is how long I was lucky enough to have my mom. She died one month ago today and it seems like a lifetime without her already. I have never known such complete sadness.
My mom spent Christmas Eve with us at our home. I never imagined she would be dead 3 weeks later. Everyone says there is nothing like losing your mom, I am sure short of losing a child this is true. Try to imagine finding out as of right now you could never see, hear or speak to your mom again. Terrifying, right? Well, forget that feeling because that is nothing like it at all...it is at least a million times worse than anything you can imagine. The other day in talking with someone else that lost their mom she described it perfectly. Before you have kids you imagine what it will be like...you think you know what it is like. Then you have kids and realize you really had no idea at all. The instant intense love you feel the moment you become a parent is nothing that can be described in words. It was the same way when I lost my mom. She had some health issues and I had thought about what it might be like when she died. Then she died and I realized I had no idea at all. The moment she took her last breath the unbelievable sadness and emptiness I instantly felt, again, is something that can not be described in words.
I had to tell the girls when they came home from school. I have never dreaded anything more in my life. I honestly can say this was the most difficult parenting moment I have ever. My mom had only been dead a few hours, I wanted to just curl up in bed and sob but I needed to be the one to tell them. As a Child Life Specialist this is something I do...sadly, I have experience in explaining death to children. I have been the one to break the news to a child that their sibling died or given parents the words to use with their children. I know how to do it. I know what to say. I had been preparing my kids in the few days leading up to her death. They knew grandma was sick. They knew the doctors and nurses were trying really hard to make her better. They knew they were trying every medicine they had to make her better. They also knew that no matter how hard the doctors and nurses try she might just be too sick and there might not be any medicines left to try...and she might not get better. I know for their developmental stages I needed to give the physical explanation of death. That is what they would understand. I know I just answer the questions they ask and not to give any extra information. But you know what? None of that knowledge made a difference. It was the worst thing I have had to do. The girls were devastated. Sara loudly sobbed for at least half an hour straight. Anna quietly cried into my shoulder for at least an hour. Later on I found Anna crying behind her puppet theater. Several times they would lock themselves in their room and cry under their covers. It is gut wrenching to watch them deal with such pain.
In the midst of helping them deal with their own grief I had to help plan my mom's services. When someone dies somewhat suddenly their is no time to take a minute and catch your breath. We needed to get a cemetery plot, plan visitation and her funeral. It is all so overwhelming and unbelievably expensive! The funeral business is the business to go into. You can make a fortune! I think in the same way there are wedding planners, there should be funeral planners. There are so many decisions to make on the spot and at a time when you really are unable to think straight. You should have someone run all the errands; to Wal-Mart for picture frames, Office Max to print off the programs, the florist to order arrangements, the mall to buy appropriate funeral attire. It is all so overwhelming, yet it needs to get done. I had to get an outfit to wear...I needed a black suit...I don't wear suits to work so I had to get one. I was wandering the store aimlessly when a saleslady came over and asked the occasion I was shopping for. My mom's wake and funeral I answered. It was so surreal. I was shopping for clothes to wear at my mother's funeral. What the f*ck!!! Within 10 seconds she had 3 other sales associates at my side helping me pick out clothes. I was a blubbering mess in the store. I had to get a ton of picture frames for the wake. Sara came to Wal-Mart with me to get them. We wandered around the store for an hour because I couldn't focus. Finally we were checking out. I opened my wallet and my debit card was missing. I reached for my credit card and that was gone. I couldn't think straight. Are you kidding me? Now on top of everything else I have been robbed. I pull out my cell phone to call Chuck and it is dead. I start having a full on anxiety attack in Wal-Mart. This is not happening. Not now. Not here. Not in front of Sara. I find my debit card at the pharmacy and turns out Chuck had used the credit card to order my mom's flowers earlier in the day. But things went from bad to worse. I get home and spend a lot of time typing up a eulogy for my mom. With a few sentences left the computer crashes and had only auto-saved the first sentence. It all hit me. I have never felt such rage in all my life. I ran out on the porch and let out a god awful scream. It was a sound I have never heard before. Dogs off in the distance started barking it was so loud. I can't believe #1. I am having to write a eulogy for my mom...my mom who was sitting in my living room just a few days before and #2. my computer crashes so I have to do it all over again...it was so painful to write the first time now I have to do it again?
We get through the wake and funeral and I don't know how, but something came over me and I was able to get up and read my mom's eulogy in the church. My mom deserved it. She deserved more than just a generic funeral service. My younger brother also got up and gave a beautiful tribute. I also wanted to do it for my children. This was the first funeral they attended...it was going to leave an impression one way or another...I wanted to make sure that in addition to seeing great sadness they would also see me stand up tall and strong and talk about the love I had for my mother. We let them decide how much they wanted to participate, assuring them there was no right or wrong choice...they both wanted to go to the wake and funeral so we let them.
The first two weeks I was just numb. I couldn't sleep or eat. I was just surviving. The past two weeks have been even tougher. Now reality is setting in. My mom is gone. I will never see her again. My kids will never see her again and that just sucks. The sadness is always right there underneath the surface waiting to come out. I have 3 kids. I have to get up and get them ready for school. I have to change diapers and clean the house. Life goes on. But there are times everyday when the sadness just comes out. I was driving down to see my dad and Anna asks, "are we almost to Grandma and Bucka's house?...I mean Bucka's house?"...her innocent little correction killed me. Thankfully she was sitting behind me and couldn't see the tears streaming down my face. Another day they were off playing and come and ask me for a box. Thinking they were doing some craft project I ask what it was for. Oh, we are playing funeral they answer. I know that is developmentally appropriate and a normal, healthy way for children to work through their grief but it was like a punch to the stomach. Walking through the store the other day and I saw cards for "Mom" and I lost it. On Friday I asked Chuck if he checked the mail because my parent's had sent the kids something. I burst into tears just as soon as that left my lips...my dad sent them something...not my parents becuase my mom is dead.
Yesterday we had our first family event, a cousin's chocolate Valentine party, since my mom died. It was heartbreaking to see my dad walk up the stairs to my house without my mom. The kids had fun but for me it was so hard to have this party go on and not have my mother a part of it. She was missing and it really was hard not to notice the emptiness.
For the past 15 years I have been working in hospitals and one of the things I have told families to do when a loved one is sick or has died is to keep things as normal as possible for the other children. I want to apologize to every family I have ever said that to. F-ing Impossible! There is no way to keep things "normal"...so I am sorry for ever making a family more stressed or feel like they are failing if they weren't able to keep things "normal".
This year is going to really suck having all the first Easter, Birthday's, Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc. without her. This is my new reality and I don't like it. I am terrified of a life without my mom, but, like I said in my eulogy for her; my promise to her is this; though some days will be difficult, we will get up. We will go on. We will continue to lead the successful lives you worked so hard to give us. We will continue to draw on you for inspiration as we raise our children in a way that would make you proud, and, we will make sure all of your grandchildren know you and the amazing person you were.
My mom spent Christmas Eve with us at our home. I never imagined she would be dead 3 weeks later. Everyone says there is nothing like losing your mom, I am sure short of losing a child this is true. Try to imagine finding out as of right now you could never see, hear or speak to your mom again. Terrifying, right? Well, forget that feeling because that is nothing like it at all...it is at least a million times worse than anything you can imagine. The other day in talking with someone else that lost their mom she described it perfectly. Before you have kids you imagine what it will be like...you think you know what it is like. Then you have kids and realize you really had no idea at all. The instant intense love you feel the moment you become a parent is nothing that can be described in words. It was the same way when I lost my mom. She had some health issues and I had thought about what it might be like when she died. Then she died and I realized I had no idea at all. The moment she took her last breath the unbelievable sadness and emptiness I instantly felt, again, is something that can not be described in words.
I had to tell the girls when they came home from school. I have never dreaded anything more in my life. I honestly can say this was the most difficult parenting moment I have ever. My mom had only been dead a few hours, I wanted to just curl up in bed and sob but I needed to be the one to tell them. As a Child Life Specialist this is something I do...sadly, I have experience in explaining death to children. I have been the one to break the news to a child that their sibling died or given parents the words to use with their children. I know how to do it. I know what to say. I had been preparing my kids in the few days leading up to her death. They knew grandma was sick. They knew the doctors and nurses were trying really hard to make her better. They knew they were trying every medicine they had to make her better. They also knew that no matter how hard the doctors and nurses try she might just be too sick and there might not be any medicines left to try...and she might not get better. I know for their developmental stages I needed to give the physical explanation of death. That is what they would understand. I know I just answer the questions they ask and not to give any extra information. But you know what? None of that knowledge made a difference. It was the worst thing I have had to do. The girls were devastated. Sara loudly sobbed for at least half an hour straight. Anna quietly cried into my shoulder for at least an hour. Later on I found Anna crying behind her puppet theater. Several times they would lock themselves in their room and cry under their covers. It is gut wrenching to watch them deal with such pain.
In the midst of helping them deal with their own grief I had to help plan my mom's services. When someone dies somewhat suddenly their is no time to take a minute and catch your breath. We needed to get a cemetery plot, plan visitation and her funeral. It is all so overwhelming and unbelievably expensive! The funeral business is the business to go into. You can make a fortune! I think in the same way there are wedding planners, there should be funeral planners. There are so many decisions to make on the spot and at a time when you really are unable to think straight. You should have someone run all the errands; to Wal-Mart for picture frames, Office Max to print off the programs, the florist to order arrangements, the mall to buy appropriate funeral attire. It is all so overwhelming, yet it needs to get done. I had to get an outfit to wear...I needed a black suit...I don't wear suits to work so I had to get one. I was wandering the store aimlessly when a saleslady came over and asked the occasion I was shopping for. My mom's wake and funeral I answered. It was so surreal. I was shopping for clothes to wear at my mother's funeral. What the f*ck!!! Within 10 seconds she had 3 other sales associates at my side helping me pick out clothes. I was a blubbering mess in the store. I had to get a ton of picture frames for the wake. Sara came to Wal-Mart with me to get them. We wandered around the store for an hour because I couldn't focus. Finally we were checking out. I opened my wallet and my debit card was missing. I reached for my credit card and that was gone. I couldn't think straight. Are you kidding me? Now on top of everything else I have been robbed. I pull out my cell phone to call Chuck and it is dead. I start having a full on anxiety attack in Wal-Mart. This is not happening. Not now. Not here. Not in front of Sara. I find my debit card at the pharmacy and turns out Chuck had used the credit card to order my mom's flowers earlier in the day. But things went from bad to worse. I get home and spend a lot of time typing up a eulogy for my mom. With a few sentences left the computer crashes and had only auto-saved the first sentence. It all hit me. I have never felt such rage in all my life. I ran out on the porch and let out a god awful scream. It was a sound I have never heard before. Dogs off in the distance started barking it was so loud. I can't believe #1. I am having to write a eulogy for my mom...my mom who was sitting in my living room just a few days before and #2. my computer crashes so I have to do it all over again...it was so painful to write the first time now I have to do it again?
We get through the wake and funeral and I don't know how, but something came over me and I was able to get up and read my mom's eulogy in the church. My mom deserved it. She deserved more than just a generic funeral service. My younger brother also got up and gave a beautiful tribute. I also wanted to do it for my children. This was the first funeral they attended...it was going to leave an impression one way or another...I wanted to make sure that in addition to seeing great sadness they would also see me stand up tall and strong and talk about the love I had for my mother. We let them decide how much they wanted to participate, assuring them there was no right or wrong choice...they both wanted to go to the wake and funeral so we let them.
The first two weeks I was just numb. I couldn't sleep or eat. I was just surviving. The past two weeks have been even tougher. Now reality is setting in. My mom is gone. I will never see her again. My kids will never see her again and that just sucks. The sadness is always right there underneath the surface waiting to come out. I have 3 kids. I have to get up and get them ready for school. I have to change diapers and clean the house. Life goes on. But there are times everyday when the sadness just comes out. I was driving down to see my dad and Anna asks, "are we almost to Grandma and Bucka's house?...I mean Bucka's house?"...her innocent little correction killed me. Thankfully she was sitting behind me and couldn't see the tears streaming down my face. Another day they were off playing and come and ask me for a box. Thinking they were doing some craft project I ask what it was for. Oh, we are playing funeral they answer. I know that is developmentally appropriate and a normal, healthy way for children to work through their grief but it was like a punch to the stomach. Walking through the store the other day and I saw cards for "Mom" and I lost it. On Friday I asked Chuck if he checked the mail because my parent's had sent the kids something. I burst into tears just as soon as that left my lips...my dad sent them something...not my parents becuase my mom is dead.
Yesterday we had our first family event, a cousin's chocolate Valentine party, since my mom died. It was heartbreaking to see my dad walk up the stairs to my house without my mom. The kids had fun but for me it was so hard to have this party go on and not have my mother a part of it. She was missing and it really was hard not to notice the emptiness.
For the past 15 years I have been working in hospitals and one of the things I have told families to do when a loved one is sick or has died is to keep things as normal as possible for the other children. I want to apologize to every family I have ever said that to. F-ing Impossible! There is no way to keep things "normal"...so I am sorry for ever making a family more stressed or feel like they are failing if they weren't able to keep things "normal".
This year is going to really suck having all the first Easter, Birthday's, Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc. without her. This is my new reality and I don't like it. I am terrified of a life without my mom, but, like I said in my eulogy for her; my promise to her is this; though some days will be difficult, we will get up. We will go on. We will continue to lead the successful lives you worked so hard to give us. We will continue to draw on you for inspiration as we raise our children in a way that would make you proud, and, we will make sure all of your grandchildren know you and the amazing person you were.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Now I have seen it all!
Sorry for the huge gap in posts. My 16 month old has turned out to be a lot of work...to put it mildly. Now, I am not complaining...I love her more than life itself and I wouldn't trade her feisty little personality for a more docile one, but, she is a handful. That being said, I have not had any gaps in observing this weird little thing we call life...
As you know I live in a small town out in the central part of the state. If it were described on the news I am sure they would include the phrase "sleepy little town"...but lately I have seen a few things that have made me realize it may not be that sleepy after all.
** Camel Tow. No, I did not misspell "tow". I was driving along and had to wait as a huge tow truck turned in front of me. It was very flashy looking. It had a cartoonish looking llama on it. I kind of cocked my head and thought, 'why would a truck have a llama on it?'...Well, it didn't! It was a camel!! Huh, that was weird...then it hit me and I could not stop laughing (I do have the sense of humor of a 12 year old boy after all!). It was Camel Tow! Friggin Genuis!!! So after a good 5 minutes of pure unadulterated joy I started to break this whole Camel Tow idea down. So what was their business model? Who is their target clientele? Are they targeting young men? What happens if they show up to tow away a feminist who has broken down? Do they get turned away? Oh, and if the business owner is a married man how did he broach that subject with his wife? Hey hun, I have an idea for a towing company...I need to dip into our nest egg and use all of our savings...oh and I am calling it "Camel Tow"...Wonder if they are still married? Oh, and if you are wondering there is WAY more than one tow company with this name. I googled it and there are several search pages devoted to camel tow.
** OK, so now that you are back from googling 'camel tow' I had another bizarre experience the other night. I was at Kohl's picking up a few things. I was looking at some stuff right near the ladies dressing room when a customer came out to look for her item in a different size. Sounds normal right? We have all done that. Question for you? Have you done it in your UNDERWEAR? I sh*t you not, this lady came out in her bra and undies! She was wandering around the racks looking for another shirt in her underwear. Now, as if that were not weird enough, what appeared to be her husband and kids joined in the search for the perfect top. Not one of them said anything to her. Like, oh I don't know, "put some flippin clothes on mom!"...not a word from any of them. This family seemed to be of a different cultural background, however, the children spoke perfect English...so even if they were from a different country at one point, they have been here long enough to know Americans typically wear clothes while shopping in public. Oh, and to add to it, this lady was no Victoria's Secret model...don't get me wrong, neither am I...Adam Levine won't be calling me anytime soon, but if for some god forsaken reason I decided to walk around in my underwear I would make sure I was a little closer to looking like Giselle than Mama June. I swear to all that is holy-- I kept looking over my shoulder for John Quinones to come out and say I was on 20/20's What Would You Do? Sadly, that never happened and I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time...and lucky me got to witness a middle aged lady, in desperate need of a wax, wandering around in her undies looking for a black shirt. With that kind of luck maybe I should play the lottery today!
** So I was driving to work on Sunday and was stopped at an intersection. Something to the left of me caught my eye. I looked over to see a young girl, probably late teens/early 20's cracking a whip. She was out in the driveway cracking a whip. "What the f*ck" is the first thing that came to mind...Then I wanted to know why she was spending her Sunday afternoon in the freezing cold cracking an honest to goodness real whip. Is she a dominatrix practicing for her afternoon session? Is she a lion tamer honing her craft? Is she just some super-nerd acting out one of those middle earth type movies? I will never know...there was no way I was going to stop and ask her. Whatever the motivation behind her bizarre hobby, at least I can honestly say a whip cracker does not make for a sleepy little town!
** My husband is NOT gay!! No, I am not making some surprise declaration about Chuck. That is the title of a new TLC show. I was dozing on the couch the other night and heard a commercial for a show called; My husband is NOT gay. I thought for sure it was a SNL spoof...but I remembered I was watching TLC and they don't advertise SNL. So as with everything else super important in my life, I Google it. Sure enough it is a real show about married men, that even though they say they are attracted to men claim not to be gay. I wish I could sit here and tell you I had the will power not to watch it, but I can't. I can pretty much bet you once it previews I will be DVRing the crap out of that and binge watching after the girls go to bed. I wish I were making this up, but this made me say out loud, "Now, I have seen everything!"
Again, I am going to try to be better about my posts...I learned a very important life lesson yesterday...if I want to get something done, give Emily some chocolate ice-cream and I buy myself 45 minutes. I will be stocking the freezer up right away!! Oh, and my little blog is about to hit 25,000 page views. I know in the blogging world that is not much, but I am kind of excited about hitting that milestone!
As you know I live in a small town out in the central part of the state. If it were described on the news I am sure they would include the phrase "sleepy little town"...but lately I have seen a few things that have made me realize it may not be that sleepy after all.
** Camel Tow. No, I did not misspell "tow". I was driving along and had to wait as a huge tow truck turned in front of me. It was very flashy looking. It had a cartoonish looking llama on it. I kind of cocked my head and thought, 'why would a truck have a llama on it?'...Well, it didn't! It was a camel!! Huh, that was weird...then it hit me and I could not stop laughing (I do have the sense of humor of a 12 year old boy after all!). It was Camel Tow! Friggin Genuis!!! So after a good 5 minutes of pure unadulterated joy I started to break this whole Camel Tow idea down. So what was their business model? Who is their target clientele? Are they targeting young men? What happens if they show up to tow away a feminist who has broken down? Do they get turned away? Oh, and if the business owner is a married man how did he broach that subject with his wife? Hey hun, I have an idea for a towing company...I need to dip into our nest egg and use all of our savings...oh and I am calling it "Camel Tow"...Wonder if they are still married? Oh, and if you are wondering there is WAY more than one tow company with this name. I googled it and there are several search pages devoted to camel tow.
** OK, so now that you are back from googling 'camel tow' I had another bizarre experience the other night. I was at Kohl's picking up a few things. I was looking at some stuff right near the ladies dressing room when a customer came out to look for her item in a different size. Sounds normal right? We have all done that. Question for you? Have you done it in your UNDERWEAR? I sh*t you not, this lady came out in her bra and undies! She was wandering around the racks looking for another shirt in her underwear. Now, as if that were not weird enough, what appeared to be her husband and kids joined in the search for the perfect top. Not one of them said anything to her. Like, oh I don't know, "put some flippin clothes on mom!"...not a word from any of them. This family seemed to be of a different cultural background, however, the children spoke perfect English...so even if they were from a different country at one point, they have been here long enough to know Americans typically wear clothes while shopping in public. Oh, and to add to it, this lady was no Victoria's Secret model...don't get me wrong, neither am I...Adam Levine won't be calling me anytime soon, but if for some god forsaken reason I decided to walk around in my underwear I would make sure I was a little closer to looking like Giselle than Mama June. I swear to all that is holy-- I kept looking over my shoulder for John Quinones to come out and say I was on 20/20's What Would You Do? Sadly, that never happened and I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time...and lucky me got to witness a middle aged lady, in desperate need of a wax, wandering around in her undies looking for a black shirt. With that kind of luck maybe I should play the lottery today!
** So I was driving to work on Sunday and was stopped at an intersection. Something to the left of me caught my eye. I looked over to see a young girl, probably late teens/early 20's cracking a whip. She was out in the driveway cracking a whip. "What the f*ck" is the first thing that came to mind...Then I wanted to know why she was spending her Sunday afternoon in the freezing cold cracking an honest to goodness real whip. Is she a dominatrix practicing for her afternoon session? Is she a lion tamer honing her craft? Is she just some super-nerd acting out one of those middle earth type movies? I will never know...there was no way I was going to stop and ask her. Whatever the motivation behind her bizarre hobby, at least I can honestly say a whip cracker does not make for a sleepy little town!
** My husband is NOT gay!! No, I am not making some surprise declaration about Chuck. That is the title of a new TLC show. I was dozing on the couch the other night and heard a commercial for a show called; My husband is NOT gay. I thought for sure it was a SNL spoof...but I remembered I was watching TLC and they don't advertise SNL. So as with everything else super important in my life, I Google it. Sure enough it is a real show about married men, that even though they say they are attracted to men claim not to be gay. I wish I could sit here and tell you I had the will power not to watch it, but I can't. I can pretty much bet you once it previews I will be DVRing the crap out of that and binge watching after the girls go to bed. I wish I were making this up, but this made me say out loud, "Now, I have seen everything!"
Again, I am going to try to be better about my posts...I learned a very important life lesson yesterday...if I want to get something done, give Emily some chocolate ice-cream and I buy myself 45 minutes. I will be stocking the freezer up right away!! Oh, and my little blog is about to hit 25,000 page views. I know in the blogging world that is not much, but I am kind of excited about hitting that milestone!
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.
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
café… 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.
* 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!!
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!!
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