June 2009 Archives

I went down to the children's lair to get on our archaic computer of which we've sacrificed (ahem, upgraded to laptops and haven't gotten around to recycling the old bessie of a computer) to our children and their super surfing powers on PBS.org, Disney, and Webkinz. Still, I needed a document from a few years ago, so went down. First I texted Chris, "I'm going down to the basement. If you don't hear back from me in 10 minutes, call for help."

Thankfully, it was pretty picked up down there, so I made it. But when I got to the computer, found the document, and went to email it to Dr. Sir

This is what 35 looks like on me. I love it.

It's halfway to Christmas, otherwise known as my birthday. So, what do I do for such a celebratory event? Well, the kids are out of town depleting my in-law's retirement funds through souvenir shop investments. Woops, I mean vacationing through the Blackhills, SD.

So, it's just Ricardo and I to celebrate. And unless we got a bouncy house, there wasn't much of a party going on here. Due to schedules, and rain forecasts and the length of our gigantore forest grass growing in the yard, I needed to mow. I love to mow. So, yes, I mowed the yards on my birthday. When I got to the back yard, I was trying to decide on a pattern. You know, you have to mix up your lawn mowing patterns so as not to get any lawn mower tracks or divets in the grass. Did y'all know that, or do you need to defer your husbands to this segment? Anyhoo, since it's my birthday and all, I got wicked silly and instead of horizontal, or vertical, or even diagonal, I went with circular. What what? Yeah, I rocked the lawn mowing zen world and mowed the lawn in a circular pattern. I know. Gettin C-R-A-Z-Y on my birthday! Whew!

And yes, I made my own cake, because I'm a control freak like that. I went C-R-A-Z-Y yet again and instead of my typical yellow cake with chocolate frosting, I went with lemon cake, white icing. Had the kids been here, I would have made them make it. "Now, get in there and make Mommy's cake!" But they aren't. And Ricardo is working, and I've pretty much scheduled the rest of his evening, so I made my own cake. Yeah, I did.

I scheduled a great gathering and perhaps, used my birthday into guilting people into driving all the way out to the Surfside Club for beer and fried food. It really was fun. I forgot how much I love hot weather, everyone else was hot and sweating. Surfside Club is on the river, and has very specific dress code rules. Which is funny. Because it's a dive. They serve 4 items: Corn Fritters, French Fries, Fried Catfish, Fried Chicken. And that's it. At the bar, you can get a cup of pepsi for 50 cents or you can get diet pepsi for $1.50. Interesting. Or you can get a pitcher of beer or lemonade. I got my very own pitcher of lemonade. It was slimey. I don't know if it was the sugar or the slime from the ice, but I'm grossed out just thinking about it. I drank it though. Because I have a stomach of iron steel, and it was indeed, my birthday, so I'm protected by birthday law from all bad things, right?

Here's another tradition for the Surfside Club. We were greeted with this within minutes of sitting down. I love the expression on all the boat riders faces. "What are y'all doin tonight after work?" "I dunno, I think we'll take Bob out on the river and moon people. What are you doin?"

I had a great group of pals who came out to celebrate with me. It was the perfect party with my favorite people!

Then Michael Jackson died and totally upstaged my birthdayness. I never was much of an MJ fan. Sure, I thought the moonwalking was cool, but someone choreographed that, it's not like he just made it up. I thought the Thriller video was cool. And then I think later, I liked that song Black & White. And that's about it for me. And then he just got really freaky, and in the picture CNN posted on their news coverage website eulogyness, I find myself looking to see if I can figure out where his nose comes off his face. I think I found it. And I am afraid to turn on my tv, because last night, just before I went to bed, I'm flipping, and Larry King is interviewing KENNY ROGERS about Michael Jackson. Another channel is phone interviewing JC Chasez. Really? And there's a lady on claiming to have discovered the Jackson 5. Just like the latter days of his life, this is going to be a circus for a while. Welcome year 35 to me.

That's how I roll.

Ricardo and I have always made sure to share a funny story or something sweet the kids said or did every night. It's especially effective if one of us has had "a day" with the kids.
So, I thought I'd make up for my MommyDearest reference. You're welcome.

Every morning, I get up and have my coffee outside. And every morning, Lucy is the first to wake up, after I've gotten a couple of sips to wake up, and sits outside with me. We noticed the bird feeder was getting low. I'd just filled it two days before.

So, I say to Lucy, "Wow, those birds are pigs."

To which she replies, "No, mom, they're birds."

Good point.

On the same day, we were in the pool with the kids, trying to wear them out before their big road trip. Gramma and Bean were there, all was right with the world. Ricardo was showing Bean how he throws Max into the air. Max balls up and then tries to hit those swim flags that are strung across the pool. So, Ricardo throws Max in the air, and he hits the flags. This is so fun! Then Bean goes to throw Max in the air to hit the flags, and Bean is less tall than Ricardo, and so, when he threw him into the air, he had a good launch, but didn't quite make it as high and missed the flags. Max goes plunging into the water anyways. Re-surfaces, takes a breath and simply says, "WAH-WAH-WAH!" Just like a cartoon. Ricardo was so proud, he came rushing out of the pool to come tell me about it.

I may not be able to teach them how to pick their damned wet towels up. But, who cares? These kids are brilliant and have an uncanny wit about them with impecable timing for a good punchline. So, I haven't quite gotten around to teaching them petty things like responsibility and or avoiding mold growth in their rooms, but I've certainly done right by teaching them about every day life comedy.

I suppose I should get my motherly priorities straight, but we're too busy laughing.

That's how I roll.

"That's great how they carved that and all. Are we gonna stand here and look at that or we gonna find the souvenir shop?" - I'm assuming what Lucy & Max said upon arrival at the Black Hills.

Well, I guess word travels fast. And after the last post, Gramma and Bean-Bean came in and took the kids away for the week. "Sounds like you need a break" Heh, Heh. Well, that's not EXACTLY how it happened. This vacation with the grandparents has been planned for a while. But I suppose it happened just soon enough. Better they come get the kids than CPS, I suppose. What with all that paper work and such.

So, Ricardo and I have a week. All to ourselves. Well, I do. Ricardo has to work. My job went on vacation to the Black Hills. And considering I had a 6-week vacation, and then a girlfriends get away, I'm pretty set on the rested side. I bet I get to the pool to relax and read a book without making sure either of my kids has sunk. That'll be nice. But my first plan of business is to clean the house. Thoroughly. And then for the rest of the week, see if it's really the kids making the mess or someone else. Someone like Farley.

Yesterday I ran all over Omaha. I really did. I ran a few errands, then I had so much fun at Sams Club comparing prices, and/or comparing nutritional charts with no time constraints at all, and no kids asking if they can go get all the samples. Did you know that Kashi Go Lean is nutritionally better than the Flax Plus Granola Cereal and less expensive? I know, exciting isn't it?

Meanwhile, the kids have been having lots of fun. Bean is making sure to send me pictures to prove that the kids are okay. Perhaps I have a reputation that I worry. Really, it's not the kids I worry about, it's Bean and Gramma. They emailed us the first pictures of the trip. WIth Mount Rushmore, and bear country, the Badlands, and old western shoot outs, horse back riding all on the itinerary, you would think there would be optimal picture opportunities. But the first set of pictures is Max and Lucy in a souvenir shop. Ah, the beginning of the tour of souvenir shops. SUCKAS!

That's how I roll.

Perhaps it's the rage. Or the fact that I, too, have this same facial masque.

Oh my gravy. What is it? What am I missing? Seriously, do I expect too much? My kids are filthy. I get so sick of riding them to clean up. But if I don't, they don't. And then I get all crazy yelling. And when I get all crazy yelling, I talk sarcastically, and they just get this look on their face like, "Is that one of those pro-tor-ical questions she doesn't want us to answer again? Why is her face so red? Did she really just thank us for making the house so messy so she doesn't have to do squats at the gym today from picking up all our stuff?"

Today, I spent an hour with the kids up in their rooms cleaning. I belted out orders. I thought maybe I'd take another approach and really try to explain why we need to clean and pick up.

"You need to only use one towel a week. You must hang it on your hanger in your bathroom. That way, it is there when you get out of the shower. That way, you're not running to your room naked and dripping, and you're not getting a new towel. That way, you don't leave soaking wet towels on your floor. That way mold and mildew do not fester in your room. It's not good for you. And doing a load of 6 towels every two days is killing the earth. You are killing the earth. You are single-handedly killing the earth with towels, Lucy."

Or.

"Max, what smells in your room? You need to find out, because I can't walk in here. Why is there a tent in your room? Is that a shoe in your bed? Did you sleep with that in your bed?"

So, we got all that cleaned up. Then, a measley 7 hours later, when it was time for bed, I went upstairs to make their beds because being the rockstar mom that I am, I decided maybe with that smell and all, their sheets should be washed or something radical like that. And lo, after all that lecturing and explanations a wet towel is on her floor. RIGHT THERE> I seriously considered leaving it and then waking her up in the middle of the night with the wet towel. Ofcourse I wouldn't beat her with it. Just wake her up and yell with those mommy-crazy-eyes. And then I remembered she's a pretty hard sleeper, and how much work it would take just to wake her up. Although I could get her to do it, she wouldn't remember it in the morning. The lesson, the shock, all would be lost. Dangit.

So, now I see why Mommy Dearest did it. She had to make that point, no wire hangers dammit. There's a reason why I don't spank my kids, y'all. I don't condone it, but I totally get it now. Because, "Hunny, plastic hangers are so much better for your silk gowns, they don't rust or leave permanent lines in the fabric." Just doesn't work. Still, I'm too lazy to follow through on all that physical labor. Fret not oh mass readers of mine. I'm all talk. The kids are safe. I've just got to find a way to get them to pick up. Until then:

NO WET TOWELS ON THE FLOOR. EVER!

That's how I roll.

A few months ago, one of my ol college pals sent an email to my gal pal group, "My husband just told me I need to take a vacation."

Really, I didn't need this "break" but I need to be surrounded by these women. They challenge me, reassure me, and they feed me. Each of us comes from ridiculously different background and lifestyles. There are a few things we do when we get together:
1. Talk about our feelings
2. Eat
3. Exchange trinkets & gifts
4. Circle Up

The last of the list probably doesn't seem like it to me, but it's the most special to me. Even moreso than Eat. T When we circle up, it's like a huddle, and we pray. What Mom On the Rocks? You better believe it. Even in prayer, sometimes, I get a little distracted, and so, one time, I might have opened my eyes. Apparently, there's a reason why people close their eyes in prayer, to keep focus. But this time, I opened my eyes, and looked down and saw our feet. And it moved me.

I love the feet. You can't tell which feet belong to which lady. Almost always, we're all in flip flops, exposed, but minimally protected.

It turns out however, I needed this trip indeed. I need to see these girls. We have some celebrating to do as one of our gals had a baby yesterday. I guess she's going to use that as an excuse to not come to our double-secret meeting. The nerve. Still, we'll celebrate Baby Reed. Congratulations Courten and Super Jay on a beautiful healthy baby boy and your absolutely delightful family!

Each of these women inspire me between visits, and they make my heart smile to just be around them. All of them, every single one, are strong women with absolutely incredible stories. It's an honor to circle up with these women. To catch up with them, and see how we've changed in just a couple of year's time. And I'm fairly certain, aside from my family, these women keep me solid in my faith and sane in my mommyness.

Until we meet again, we'll email, text and call each other and simply ask when we need it, "Circle Up" for me. It's a simple powerful request.

So, I thought I didn't need this trip. I didn't need the vacation, but I did need to be near my ladies. It turns out, just being around these ladies is exactly what I needed. Just when you think you're going to help out a friend, you get helped.

That's how I roll.

I'm guessing this is how I will look in September.

Just so y'all know I'm okay and I'm not on the verge of beating my kids just yet - I'm leaving this week on a good note. This convo happened the other day in the car. I love driving them all around town for this very reason.

"Hey kids, I'm thinking about doing a triathlon in September. What do you think of that?"

Lucy: "Oh, Mommy, that will be great! What is your favorite part?"

"Probably running and swimming."

Lucy: "Mine is biking and swimming, but not running. But I still do it because I like the whole race."

Max: "I'm good at it all."

"Yes. Yes you are."

Lucy: "We will go and cheer you on and you'll do so good! You're gonna rock it out!"

My little heart melts. Stay cool. Stay cool. Stay cool. "Thanks, Lu."

Max: "Mommy, will you turn the music back up now?"

"What?"

Max: "Will you turne the music back up, PLEEEEASE!"

"Yes." But only because it's Spiderman by the Ramones.

That's how I roll.

I went in for my 6-week check up "in the stirrups" visit to my doctor today. The logistics of what to do with the kids were just exhausting. What we ended up doing was packing worksheets, books and pens and tag-teaming in the lobby. Because the Lord and all those people at all those places I've recently mentioned knows - I was not about to leave the kids alone there. And I sure as hell wasn't going to take them back to my exam room with me... "Mommy, what are these booties on these weird swivel handles for?" Uh, no way. So, Ricardo met me and took care of the kids.

It was a minimal visit, but I'm happy to report all is right again. The emotional void of my missing uterus has been filled with cake.(I've been eating a lot of cake.) I'm free to lift heavy objects, vacuum, and exercise to my little sub-cardio vasculared heart's content.

Doctor Fantastic: "Scoot down some more."

"Fine. Just makes me nervous with that paper gown, no undies, all that cold air... Fine, I'll scoot."

"Done. Okay, scoot back up."

"But I just got here..."

"You're all good. You have no restrictions now."

"None?"

"Nope, everything's back to normal."

"Great! Ricardo will so happy I can mow the lawn again. I mean, he'll be happy about sex too, but mostly the lawn."

We left and went straight to the gym where I hit the steam room, ran a mile, and did some lunges. Then we came home and I made more cake. Life is good.

That's how I roll.

I don't mean to play favorites. Besides, we all know Lucy's my favorite because Max decided to hang out and relax for an hour and a half while I was in labor. And the epidural wore off, but whatever.

I should level the playing field and explain, when we got home from our party disaster, Ricardo was sitting on the couch tuning out the temper tantrum of Max upstairs in his room. When you don't respond fast enough to his wailing, he starts kicking his wall. In the words of Jim Carrey in the Grinch That Stole Christmas,
"Nice kid. BAD JUDGE OF CHARACTER!"

"Max, how old are you?" I always ask this. They always answer correctly, and then I explain that they are acting like 3 year-olds with the tantrum. And they stop, and then we hug, and they help me fold laundry and talk about our feelings and then they tell me what a precious mother I am to them and how much they love me so... Well, they stop the tantrum until a new one comes up.

Max apparently picked up on this, and opted to down grade. Mix it up. Throw me off my game.
"FIVE YEARS OLD!"

So, I calmly explained since he was now 5, we didn't need to save up for that Nintendo DS and that he could just stay there and let 'er rip on the tantrum until dinner time.

Silence is bliss.

Today, I talked to what I refer to as my locker room pals. No, we don't make out and gawk at each other's naked ness, anymore... We talk while we're doing our hair and makeup at the vanity. My locker room pals have a way bigger workout ethic than I do. So, I only chat with them in the locker room. We never ever, ever cross paths during workout. Only after showers. So, I'm chatting with one of those pals, and she says, "It's only been a week, and I just feel like, like a failure."

Amen sister. Amen. I suggest we pretend our water bottles are full of vodka instead of water. Really, this particular locker room pal and I have absolutely nothing in common, except we both do our hair and make up at about the same time at the gym, and we're both ladies, but really, even then, I'm half the woman she is, I suppose. So, we have nothing in common, except mommyhood, and yet, we feel the exact same after one week with our kids, like a failure.

I'm guessing locker room pal has a new plan. She's savvy like that. That, and if she wanted to, she could buy a nanny and run off with the country club pool boy to his Grecian homeland. I'm sure of it. I don't think she would. But she could. Me, I just traded in my kids for different models. I really think I did. Because today, they are brilliant little angels.

We went to two libraries today. Their school has a summer program, so they like to go check out the school, make sure everything is in order. And then the city library has an incentive program. In one week, my kids have read a total of 46 books. I'm not even making that up. What provokes a kid to read? Fantastic stories and imagination? No. Money and prizes. Today, we got to go pick up the prizes. And what? You want more books? Sho nuff. Because you can't beat your brother while reading.

They have been reading all day. Until the tree guys came to cut the limbs down. We watched that. Then they helped me clean. Then they read some more. Then Lucy wanted to write a book report. On every book. She's read 7 books in the last two hours. I guess I found my daughter in the bushes.

That's how I roll.

I took Lucy with me to an open house for some of my favorite culinary gigs: Pampered Chef, Tupperware, and Tastefully Simple. There were others, but they didn't have samples, and if I couldn't cook with it, store food in it, nor season with it, I wasn't buying it. Some people shop for shoes. Some people shop for jewelry. I stick with one theme for the love of shopping: food.

The friend's house I was going to is a new pal from this volleyball league I snuck into. By sneak, I mean, I really suck. When I tell people that, they give me a look of surprised pity. I guess all 6-footers should be great athletes. But just like in college, I got picked because I'm tall, not because I'm good. I've spent the last two volleyball seasons getting my ass handed to me by just about every team. Wait. No. Correction. Yeah, that's right, every team. I've actually threatened the opposing teams server that if she served me again, I'd be forced to blind her with my stretch marks. Works every time. Anyways, so I'm hoping I can save some kind of relationship with these people with my overwhelming personality. Because clearly, my SKILLZ aren't doing it.

I tried to prep Lucy, use your manners, be nice, yes, I'm sure they'll have cookies or something like it. But as soon as we walked into the house, I lost my daughter. I must have been chatting up the Tupperware lady and missed the Linda-Blair-head-spin transformation, but she lost her mind y'all. She was RUNNING through this poor woman's house. Demanding more brownies. I'd tell her to sit down, she'd get up. She was stupid and sassy when a nice woman tried to distract her through dialogue. And I think at some point, while trying to ignore her, I think I saw that brat do a cartwheel IN their living room! What the hell!?

"Who's the jackass who brought their bratty kid?" one of the voices in my head shouted.

I thought she'd be okay at a girly party like that. But as my mother, in her infinite and apparently prophetic wisdom used to say to me, "Well, that's what you get for thinking."

Thankfully she didn't break anything. Still, I was embarassed. Maybe I should have bought more stuff.

We're in some kind of new phase. And by "we", I mean, they are. However, my reactionary parenting skillz need to go up a notch - thus a new phase for all of us.

I left in shock and pretty embarassed. I tore into her as soon as we got in their driveway, and then I left her in their bushes. I hope that was okay.

That's how I roll.

Day one, and I feel like Mr. Frederickson. It's gonna be a long summer.

On our first official day of summer - I dragged the kids to my dentist for my 6 month annual check up. I'd planned the check up per the last day of school. However, I guess I'm still a school-mom-rookie on some levels because it turns out that the last day of school is based on how many snow days we use. We only used one. So, instead of June 3rd, the school refused my children after Noon on May 29th. Whatever. So, that strategic plan went to muck, and I dragged the kids to my dentist. Much to my surprise, Max and Lucy played in the little children's corner. I noticed at some point between the power tooled tooth polisher and the air sucker, that my kids were unusually quiet. Either someone took them, or they were plotting against me. Both scenarios freaked me out. But I finished up, and the kids apparently played well and quietly.

Then we hit the library. I always make them go to the library, and they always put up a fight, and then once we get in there, they pick out so many books, they can't hold them all, and I have to help them out. Today was no different except, the piles of books were heavier. That's a tough problem to have, when your kids are over-enthusiastic about something crazy like READING and all. They each read a book on the way home, and then came home and sat down on the floor and read a few more. The nerve.

Lunch with Daddy. I don't know why I feed these kids. I really don't. It just raises their bloodsugar and they, in turn, lose their freaking minds. We went to one of their friends' house to swim. I am pals with the mom, so I stayed to play too. Soon, they were just nuts. Lucy sassed me. Max and Lucy competed for attention from their pal, and inevitably fought in intervals of every 45 seconds. Then, Max and his pal were running toward each other, Max stuck his hand out for a hi-five, but friend didn't oblige, and Max smacked him on the chest. The kid still had Max's handprint on his chest when we left, 2 hours later. Once my pal started giggling nervously over the ridiculous antics, and there was just no turning back, the sassing and fighting would only escalate, we left.

I drove them straight home. I should have made them walk, but they probably would have loved the independence, and I needed them to be miserable, woops, I mean, learn several lessons. So, I sent them to their rooms - for way more than a time out. Mommy needed a time out, and possibly a whiskey sour.

Then we continued our plan for the day and went to see UP! What, Leslie? Your kids are punished by going to see a movie? And to you I say, shut up. I was not about to hang out at the house with these crazies. They'd served their time and it was now time to release them back in to the community on a probationary period.

It turns out 3D movies are "Like, $3 or something more than like a regular ticket" according to the 13 year-old nose-pierced ticket chick. So, $27 later, we got into the movies. Then, I'd promised the kids dinner at the theater. But I retracted after I got to the second pre-teen and inquired about prices on the entrees.
"How much is a hot dog?"

"$4" Really? For those shitty hot dogs? No thanks.

"How much are those pretzel dunkers with the nasty cheese vat?"

"Their like, $6, I think."

"Okay kids, no dinner here, just get your regular kiddie combo. We'll have dinner at home."

They were fine with that. No fits. I guess my stellar lecture back at the house really worked.

The movie was cute. On our way home, I reviewed:

"There were a few lessons in that movie. One was sometimes, when you get all you've ever wanted, it's not exactly what you thought it would be."

A disinterested, "Uh-huh."

I continued, "And also, when you should try really hard for your dreams, but not if you have to hurt someone else to achieve that dream."

Pause.

"Mommy, I learned something too!" Lucy says. "I learned you should never feed a rare bird chocolate."

Great.

Then Max felt the need to add to the conversation, "And I learned something too Mommy!....Um......wait, nevermind. I didn't learn anything."

Take your kids to see a 3D movie.....$27
Kiddie Combo Pack, gigantic diet coke and stale movie popcorn.....$20.50
A moment in the dark to re-plan the entire summer for sanity.....PRICELESS

That's how I roll.