Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Confirmation

Ok, clearly "shut the hell up" is not the right choice in my dieting dilemma. My need to shed a few (let's not get into how many I am considering is a "few") was confirmed by Lori last night. Hey, do you remember Lori? That one that a few short weeks ago I wrote a loving and glowing tribute to? Today's post... not so much. In fact, I am thinking of renaming "Be Nice To Lori" Day "Kick Lori In the Shins" Day.

Lori just returned from Florida, so the girls and I got together last night to dish. Its been like two whole weeks since we'd seen each other, so much gossip was spread. When Lori was giving us the run down on her vacay, she said that something she did made her think of me and it cracked her up. I was all ears, as I am a total attention whore, so I waited with baited breath (is it bated or baited?) as she continued. She thought of me when she was at Sea World and saw Shamu. Pause for reaction. I am quite sure the story was going to continue.... but she took that moment to pause and therefore Homa, Laura and I erupted into hysterical laughter. Of course, my laughter was only to mask the murder plot that I was devising in my head at the time. She really did continue the story (although it was nowhere near as funny after the whole "Lynn is like Shamu" thing), and I am sure she didn't mean to offend (right? RIGHT?????)... but I am considering that it may be a sign from God that her story would come out that way on the exact day I wrote a blog post about being a heifer... I mean killer whale.
Actually, if you look at us... the body shape is pretty similar. Just in case you can't tell... the first one is me. (I am the one in red... holding fat Jack. See the resemblance???)
This is the whale. I mean Shamu.... I guess the "whale" part is debatable and may apply to both.

In light of this, I am going to bite the bullet (instead of the Quater Pounder with Cheese and large fries). I love the comments and the idea of getting a blog group on a diet. Tell me when, where and I will sign up (as long as we don't have to go to those friggin' meetings). Uh... and...as long as its not until Monday. My in-laws are coming this weekend and God knows I need the excess calories for stamina.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

The 8 Year Diet

So, I am fat. Its ok, you don't have to write in that I am gorgeous or I look good at any size or the dreaded "but you have such a pretty face." (Mark, I especially mean you. Don't do it. Its not safe). I don't look gorgeous, I would look better smaller, and my face ain't that great. I am funny. I am witty. I am smart. I am a smart ass. My kids are cute. Those are my only attributes. Looks... not so much. But, here's the kicker. I recently realized that my friend Homa and I have been talking about dieting since I met her. In 2001. That means that I have been talking about going on a diet for 8 years. Seriously.
In that time, I had a three month stint with Weight Watchers, where I agreed to give them my money and cook their recipes and not lose a damned thing. Truly. I didn't cheat. I followed that diet to the number. I calculated my fat and fiber grams and divided by my weight and multiplied by the number of letters in my mother's maiden name and then I combined that with my blood type and signed away my first born son (his name was Sam... we don't speak of him since Kirstie Alley took him away. Ok, so she was with Jenny Craig. Whatever). Let me tell you...the weight seemed to melt off... of MARK. The weight seemed to cling on... to ME. Lying cheats, that's what I call them. And really... can you picture me in one of those meetings? Its not pretty. Picture lifetime member "Tammi" gleefully talking about how carrot sticks are the new Hershey bar. Would you want to say that with me in the room? Didn't think so. Carrot sticks are the old carrot sticks and Hershey's is my friend. Piss off, Tammi. We'll discuss "trading hugs for jugs" next week at your own risk.

So, I am at an impasse. I am no thinner than I was 8 years ago. I've had my ups and downs... ups being the general direction (and if this were mountain climbing or banking... up would be a good thing so who I am to judge whether or not its bad in weight land). The downs were taking place only when breastfeeding Will, which I now realize I never should have stopped. Yes, it may be creepy to breastfeed a soon to be three year old, but seriously... if you can down an entire Ben and Jerry's 1400 calorie pint and not gain an ounce... isn't it worth it??? So, here's the burning question. Do I actually break down and go on a diet that has apparently been worth discussing for 8 long years of my life? Or, better yet, do I just shut the hell up?

Friday, April 24, 2009

Trip to the Snorchestra

So, last night I was able to attend the Snorchestra. The nice thing about this particular performance is that it isn't as snooty as a regular orchestra. The ticket prices are decent, the lines short and the dress code is extremely casual. I got the ticket for the bargain price of promising to love and to cherish, to honor and uh... obey (snort... yeah right). I was the only one attending the show (until Will woke up and 2 a.m. and joined me), and I was appropriately dressed in my black and white pajama pants and black t shirt. When in doubt... wear black, I always say. The featured performer last night.... Mark. His symphonic range of bodily functions was not to be missed... and not for the timid.

I was watching Tivoed Grey's Anatomy when the snorchestra began. (And can I just say, Grey's...uh heartbreaking much??? Do we have to always kill children on these shows? Are ratings not high enough when the adults croak, we have to get the most cherubic, big eyed, baby talking little angel around and then ax them???? Thanks for that, Mary Shelly or Angela Kelly or Mary Poppins... whoever you are that write that show. But, I digress.) Initially, there was the tuning period before the music began, where Mark flexed his various instruments. There was a little sigh here and there. A snore, quiet at first, and then when the actual performance began it would ebb and flow leading up to a crescendo of mouth and nose noises that should not exist in a human being. The climax of that section so loud that I still don't know exactly what the Grey's cast were saying (but they cried, so I am pretty sure the kid was toast).

Later, the performance became more interesting when the snoring was accompanied by loud bouts of coughing, which I assume was the percussion portion of the event. Sonic booms like the staccato blast of the timpani (sounds like I actually know something about music, right? But really, I am just making this crap up) came with the soft bell like sounds of a symbol, the vibrato of his phlegm chiming in.

At the very end of the show, when the snoring softened and the hacking quieted, and I started my golf clap of appreciation came the finale. A loud one time burst of gas, passing through his nether regions with the force of a missile... and then... silence. Like a breath of fresh air (except without the fresh air and with me holding my breath). The snorchestra ended and like a good performer, Mark left me wanting more. Oops, not more.... a divorce, is what I meant to say.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Happy Sleep Deprived EEG Day

Dum Dum (Meant to sound like the weird Law & Order sound that you can't really duplicate while typing).

Playroom at Lynn's House
4:02 am

Jack doesn't want to be awake. I don't want to be awake. Jack sucks his thumb and whines. I suck my thumb and whine. 4:00a sucks. 4:00a is better than 2:00a, but it still sucks.

*** To be continued. ***

Playroom at Lynn's House
4:28 am

Jack playing with balls (no, pervert... not his. The ones of the bouncing and basketball and baseball varieties). Lynn super tired. Jack whining. Lynn whining on her blog. 4:28 am sucks too.

*** To be continued. ***

Kitchen at Lynn's House
4:48 am

Lynn is folding laundry wondering why she doesn't get up at 4:00a every day to get chores done. Oh yeah, because she fell asleep at 1:00amish, Jack woke up at 1:15 amish and Will woke up at 2:30 amish. Just realized that "am-ish" without the dash is amish. Too tired to fix it and typing with only one finger cuz holding Jack in desperate attempt to keep him up.

*** To be continued. ***

Family Room at Lynn's House
5:14 am

Jack is feeling playful. Lynn realizes that a snot sucker may not be the healthiest toy for Jack to play with, but if it makes him happy. She will let him continue to chew it. Oh yeah, fine... call Child Protective Services. Even they will understand that keeping your kid awake takes desperate measures.

*** To be continued. ***

Playroom at Lynn's House
5:37 am

Get the crash cart... we're losing him!!!!

*** To be continued. ***

Playroom at Lynn's House
6:13 am

Walked into kitchen to nuke pizza for my breakfast. Hey, as long as I've been awake, it can probably be considered lunch time. Re-entered playroom to find Jack face down on a toy. Threw him into sitting position. He is looking at me like "why mommy? Why don't you love me anymore?"

*** To be continued. ***

Lynn's Home Office
6:33 am

Mark is awake and dressed, so signing off to go get ready and then head to the neurologist. Hope Jack forgives me some day, because he is sure hating me now. Wish us luck with the EEG.

*** To be continued. ***

Lynn's Home Office 9:26 pm

Jack's EEG looked great. It is unconfirmed, but the tech said that she thought it looked perfect. Should hear back from Doc tomorrow. Jack came home at 11a WIDE AWAKE. He slept at EEG for 30 minutes. Sure...when you need him to be awake, he is EXHAUSTED... when you are ok with him napping he is awake. Kids suck. But, he is healthy, so just today... I won't complain too much. (Because I was too busy napping myself!)

The End.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Dinner With A Friend (The Sequel)

Did you notice that this time there are no quotations around the word friend? Last night I really did feel like we were closer to what we used to be... and I attribute a lot of it from the advice I got from you guys.

J.D., in particular, struck a cord. Why wouldn't I be myself? I was going out with my friends Homa and Laura, and Ardnas too, but why not focus on the way we always have fun... and the Ardnas part will work itself out. And you know what? It did. You're a smart man, Charlie Brown (or J.D.).

I wore what I would wear if I went out with my usual group. I acted how I would act if I went out with my usual group... and when I made a sarcastic comment (I know... me sarcastic... who'd have thunk it), Ardnas laughed too. And when she talked about her kids, who are so close to mine in age, it didn't feel like a competition. Her Retep is no better or worse than Will... just different. Although, at least he is potty trained... so he's one upping me in that regard for sure! (Not me, I've been potty trained for years... but Mr. Will is a stubborn little pooper). In all honesty, we did do the Christmas letter versions of life to some extent, but I think that is normal. I think that its to be expected that you don't come out with the boo hoos and the "my life suckses" when you haven't seen someone in a long time. But, it wasn't completely fake. There was honesty on her part about some professional issues, and I made it pretty clear that Will belongs in a straight jacket most of the time.

Time will tell what happens next. I was just as absent as she was for the last six months. I didn't call her either. So, the ball may be in my court now. She initiated dinner this time. In a little while (not 6 months), it will be my turn to make the effort. But, I think, if we can connect a little more often, the friendship that I used to value may make a come back.... (don't call it a comeback, I've been here for years... Sorry. Always gotta channel a little LL Cool J when I talk about comebacks).

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Dinner with a "Friend"

So, tonight my crew (minus Lori who is basking in the sunshine... if there is any... in Florida) and I are going to dinner with an old friend. Its a bit of a sticky wicket (as the geezer on Dancing with the Stars would say) so I thought I would throw it out to the masses and ask their opinions.

My friend, we'll call her Ardnas (names are changed to protect the innocent), used to be one of my best friends. I met her when I moved to Indiana, but our friendship didn't prosper right away. She was a little older than me in years, and a lot older than me in maturity, and we didn't click right away. We were civil, but not close. Homa was our mutual friend though, so we bonded eventually and eventually-er she was even in my wedding. We threw her bridal shower, her bachelorette party, her baby shower, and were anxiously waiting at the hospital when her baby boy was born. He's about six months older than mine. Then, we drifted... and by drifted I mean that she eventually stopped talking to me altogether. Silence. Cut off. Shut down.

Make no mistake, that was a rough period for both of us. We both were having our first kids, and nothing, and I mean nothing, throws life out of whack more than your first crack at parenthood. Plus, as I mentioned above... we are pretty different. I never really knew the reasons why she decided that our friendship was over. There was no discussion... just radio silence. But, it seemed that we just went two different directions (which is interesting, because she was the friend that my path in life was closest to... married a few months later, kids a few months younger, but essentially, the same path). But, we drifted. I know that she made the "cut off" decision because she felt it was best for her, and I honestly harbor no ill will about it. I missed my friend, but I was never angry.

Two years later, we semi-reconnected. Her husband's mom died, a lady that I met on many occasions, and I sent a sympathy card. She emailed back a "thank you" for the card, and I wrote her back. I wasn't going to put myself out there to be cut off again, and it took about a month to do so, but I did. Then, our group (a foursome that used to meet out on a regular basis) met out for dinner. It was awkward and no one was as open as we used to be... but it seemed like a start. A few weeks later, she and her family came to my house for dinner, and it was awkwarder. Our parenting styles were too different. I felt judged by what I let my kids do, and I felt fake fearing that any comment would come across as me judging her. I hate feeling fake. Then... radio silence again. Nothing. For six months. But to be fair... the silent treatment was on both sides. I didn't call her either.

Suddenly, Ardnas sends an email to the fab four asking for a dinner tonight. At the time, I was uneasy. What do we have to talk about? Why catch up with someone who misses huge chunks of my life? But, Homa said that if we just view Ardnas as an acquaintance now, why wouldn't we go? Which is true. I truly wish her no ill will, and could easily chat if I saw her out or at a mutual friend's house. So, we agreed to go. But, to make a short story as long as humanly possible... now I am not too sure. I am nervous that the feelings that made her bail in the first place will come back. We seem like a much better idea in theory than in practice. And, I am afraid that my fear of saying something that will cross the line will keep me from saying anything real. And, what is the point of being with me if I can't be real.

I am so nervous about dinner. I don't know what to wear. I don't know what to talk about. I feel like its a first date, but I already know the relationship isn't going to work out. We walk on eggshells trying not to offend each other, and that isn't real communication. When she asks what's new, what am I going to say? In the last six months... a lot. I don't want to get into Jack's medical stuff, because she won't be there to comfort me if his EEG on Thursday turns something up. And, I don't want to talk about stresses raising Tabbi, because I don't want to be judged as lacking as a parent (I reserve that for my readers). I feel like I am going to recite the "Christmas letter" version of my life... which is a brief summary of events and milestones in the best light possible to display my perfect life. YEAH RIGHT! I don't do Christmas letters and I don't have a perfect life. So, does it make sense to spend two hours tonight pretending like I do? Time out, sans children, is a rare commodity in my life. Is Fakety Fakerton the person I want to be when I get that time? And, I don't even mean that just for me. Is it worth it to her? If I am fake and don't want to risk offending her, is it worth her time, as well? Are past memories enough to keep the spark alive, or is it time to let the fire die?

Monday, April 20, 2009

God Bless Suburbia

Sung to the tune of God Bless America by Irving Berlin (with lyrics completely obliterated by me, of course. Sorry, Irv).

God bless Suburbia,
Subdivision where I live,
With my minivan, and my pooches
and my 2.5 required kids!

From our strip malls, to the Targets
To the soccer fields, overrun
God Bless Suburbia,
The home of clones.
God bless suburbia,
The home of clones.

With our uniforms, from The Gap
And our hair in perfect bobs
God Bless Suburbia,
The home of clones.
God bless suburbia,
The home of clones.

Where Oprah, is our leader
And Gail King, our new VP
God Bless Suburbia,
The home of clones.
God bless suburbia,
The home of clones.

With our houses, all in a row
its so hard to, find your own
God Bless Suburbia,
The home of clones.
God bless suburbia,
The home of clones.

Friday, April 17, 2009

My Perfect Boy... in the helmet

So, we had Jack's first physical therapy appointment yesterday, and the first thing out of our PT's mouth was "has the doctor mentioned putting him in a helmet?" "Uh wha?" was what came oh so eloquently out of my mouth.

Apparently Jack is hideously deformed. Ok, I put in the hideously part for artistic license. I mean look at this face... Deforma-wha? The word on the street, or from the physical therapist with the thick Slavic accent that makes everything sound cooler than it is, is that his ears are different heights and his face is no longer symmetrical from the torticollis (which spellcheck thinks should be tortillas) or muscle that didn't develop right. So, he got a dent in his head from the tort leaving his head cocked all the time and that made his facial bones shift a little. The helmet will put everything back. But... a helmet? That he wears? OUT OF THE HOUSE????

I know I sound totally vain, but its not that. Look at those smiling faces! Babies love helmets! But, people will look at him. People will look at him with pity and with judgement and with curiosity and with interest and with pity. Yes, I said pity twice. My boy don't need your pity! In the immortal words of Mr. T (sort of) "I pity the fool who pity my baby!" And what's worse... they may comment. Someone somewhere might look at him and call him the R word (karma, much???) or something else equally disrespectful and evil. The good news is that my guy is so young he will never know or understand. He will be way out of the helmet before he even comprehends that someone could be so completely ignorant and mean spirited that they would say something cruel. He will never know. But... I will know. I will hear it and I will understand. And I will kick the crap out of that person and I will end up in prison. All because of a little helmet.

I have to ask his pediatrician about it next time we go, and that is a month away, so I am not too concerned, nor am I running out to buy it right now. But, I feel at the minimum I should issue some sort of warning or press release... "mock at your own risk" or something similar to warn people off. Protective mother bear here.... don't mess with my cub!

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Official Be Nice To Lori Day

I don’t make friends very easily. For people who know me, they are probably thinking that I am lying, because I am pretty social… but it’s true. And it isn’t because I am shy or difficult (you don’t learn that ‘til you’ve known me for awhile), it’s because I don’t really let people in. I don’t get attached to people very easily. So, while I have people I am social with, there are very few that I am really attached to. And, no… I am not going to list the number here so you guys can guess if you’re on the list or not. But, there are three girlfriends that I see and talk to very regularly (almost daily or many times a day), and they are my core. My center. My people. I need them, and I don’t do need very well.

It took years to cultivate my little group. Some have joined and left, only to be replaced by others who will be there forever. One stayed on the periphery for years and only recently really entered (sorry, but you’re in there), but I know she’ll never leave. Even though she mostly thinks I am nuts (or “too much” as she calls it). One I met through happenstance as she was always my server at a local lunch spot. Who knew that she would go from giving me my bacon cheeseburger to giving me my baby shower??? And she is my topic today.

I am officially naming Thursday “Be Nice to Lori” Day. Not every Thursday, because she’s not that deserving, but today. She has things rough today. I am not going in to her business (and in the process of being nice to her, neither should you), and that isn’t even my purpose today. I am just going to take the opportunity to tell her (and anyone else still reading this pointless ranting) that I love her. That is not something I say easily. Ask Mark.

Let me tell you a little bit about Lori. Things I bet even she doesn’t see. Lori is one of the strongest people I have ever known. She has dealt with more in her life than I ever will. I have never known the depths of struggle that Lori has endured, and I would wager that I never will. Years before I knew her, she faced some serious demons head on. She was brave and risked everything to start over in life, and provide a better life for her daughter. She is also a giver. She wouldn’t admit it, I don’t think, because she calls herself lazy, but when I needed someone to help me through bed rest when I was pregnant with Jack and needed a Will wrangler, she was the first to volunteer. If you knew how much work wrangling that kid is, you would get how major that is. Her grandson needed structure, safety and a loving home, and she took him in and raises him like he was her own child. She would think that isn’t spectacular. But, how many people would do the same? My grandfather died a week before Mark’s 30th birthday and she took over and threw his whole party for me. She would act like that isn’t something, but to me when I needed something good to numb the pain, that was everything.

Now, she isn’t all sunshine and roses here, people. Lori tells it like it is. You screw up, and by God, you are going to know about it. You do something stupid, and oh my God, you’ll hear it forever, but you know what? I love that. Lori doesn’t do fake. And I get that, because I do. I can’t always tell someone no when I want to. I can’t always be the bad guy, even when I want to. But, Lori can. And I dig that about her. I learn so much from her. So, today, in her honor, I am telling the God’s honest truth about my friend Lori (because Lori don’t do fake and neither will I). She is an amazing person, and I am so extremely lucky to have her.

So, I have a lot of readers who never comment (you know who you are)... and I am asking that if you know Lori today... even though you don't know why today sucks, just wish her a good day. And even for you who don't know Lori... any stranger could use a little boost, so if you've got something nice to say... please do so. Thanks!!!

************** Please note that just because Lori read and commented, doesn't mean more comments to her aren't welcome. I told her to check back later, so please send some love her way! *****************************

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Intruder...

The following is a true story. It happened yesterday to my friend Laura.

Laura lives far away. When I say far, I mean F-A-R away. She lives in a small farming town, which means that neighbors are miles away. Typically it doesn't bother her, because she lives with a husband and two kids, but yesterday she was alone. Her husband was in Iowa with his father who had heart surgery and her kids were off doing kid things. So, Laura was at her house trying to get things done. She sat upstairs in their converted attic/now office, and she heard sounds. Laura tried not to worry, but when you are alone and neighbors are far away... you take notice of sounds. She heard a creak and a crack. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Then, she decided it was just the wind. She heard another creaky whine and dismissed it as the house settling. She heard another creak in the wood, and decided it was just her imagination. Suddenly.... she heard the scariest noise of all... Hannah Montana. Singing. What kind of sick serial killer taunts their prey with Hannah Montana??? Evil! Psychotic! Demented!

Laura decided to make her way down the stairs, better to confront her serial killer where she can get away than trapped in the attic. She continued to hear the whiney Hannah Montana song getting closer and closer as she walked down the stairs. She followed the song, expecting her Miley Cyrus obsessed attacker to be on her at any moment until.... she found her daughter's Hannah Montana doll in the dog's mouth... with her arm bent to make her sing.

So, the moral of the story is this... nothing in the world is as scary as a Hannah Montana singing doll!

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

The Shack

The Shack is a book that I am totally intruiged by (thanks to Lori, who actually read it and told me about it). I haven't read it yet (because I am deep into book two of the Twilight series and can't stop now), but I think the idea is so fascinating. Let me summarize for you.
The book is a true story, although its kept in the fiction section. You'll get that in a minute. The story is about a man who takes his three kids camping. Two kids are in a canoe and it tips over. He runs into the lake to help his son whose lifejacket is caught on the canoe keeping him under water. While he does that, his 8 year old daughter stays on land at a picnic table coloring. A serial killer kidnaps her and they find her bloodied clothing in a run down shack. She is presumed dead, but her body is never found. Tragic, yes?
Three years later, he receives a letter in the mail (on a day where the mail doesn't go out ) and it says to meet him at that shack and its signed God. He is torn about what to do. Sick joke? Serial killer trying to lure him there to kill him, too? But, in the end he goes. He walks into the shack, sees the blood stains from his daughter and leaves. Walks out and says to himself, this is crap and I am going home. Suddenly the entire area changes to a beautiful place. God opens the door and requests that he comes in. God, in the story, is played by a maternal black woman who cooks all the time. Love that! Jesus is there (a carptenter) and the Holy Ghost (and ethereal, light-bathed glow that he cannot look at directly). He spends the weekend with the holy trinity and converses with them. Basically, he asks all the questions that everyone would like to ask, predominantly... why do bad things happen to good people or innocent children? God answers him, although somewhat vaguely, because the point is that mortal humans don't have the capacity to understand God in all her wonder. He even gets to see his little girl playing with Jesus and in the end, God asks if he wants to go with her or go home. He finally decides to return home to his living family. When he leaves, he gets in a horrible car accident and slips into a coma. Turns out, the crash happened Friday night. Not Sunday when he left the cabin.

So, the question of the book is this... did it really happen? Did he spend a weekend talking to God? Or, was it all a hallucination from the coma? I really hope its the first one. What do you think?

Thursday, April 9, 2009

At least he still has a job...

I don't worry about much outside of my own house. Sad, but true. I think in child development its called the Egocentric stage, and I just think I never grew out of it. I hear about economic downturns and whatnot, but I don't do stocks, so I ignore it. Can't fix it... why worry? But, yesterday it hit home.

Luckily, Mark is still employed. If not... we would be up that proverbial creek without the much needed paddle. God knows, I don't make no money... so Mark better bring home the bacon... and the electric bill... and the rest of the groceries... and the mortgage payment and so on. Its amazing how much he needs to bring home! He better get a bigger car! Oh wait... bad economy... can't get one. Yesterday his company announced that they had the worst quarter in the history of computer company quarters and they are decreasing everyone's salary by 10 percent to make up for it. So, Hello Economic Crisis, my name is Lynn. Nice to meet you.

I am so thrilled that his company took this approach as opposed to laying people off. Everyone can hurt a little instead of someone hurting a whole, whole lot. But still... what are we going to do about this mess? Mark and I (and kids) should be fine... but when will it end? I have decided to step out of my cocoon and join the real world (not on MTV, but the really real one) and worry about this now. And here's what I decided... let's fix it!

Really... someone out there ought to be smart enough to know what to do. I can't balance a checkbook, so its not going to be me... but surely someone can. What did they do to end the Great Depression? What about the folks at Prada or Dolce and Gabbana? They somehow get people to fork out hundreds for a purse that they could get for $30 if the name was different, so why not put them in charge of our financial mess. Or, even better... what marketing people? My all male, almost 3 year old son is obsessed with getting PJ Sparkles dolls. Have the PJ Sparkles people fix the economy! They are brilliant. Or, better yet... the bloggers of the world. We are smart, witty and fabulous. Anyone have any ideas? Let's put aside our snark for a day and fix the world! Who's with me? Hello? Is this thing on?

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

A Little Vacay

So, if ever you decide to go on a trip with more than one other person, or including children, assume that all plans are flexible. That is what I learned on our lovely trip to Detroit. Let me break down the highlights for you.

1. We were planning to leave upon arrival of my brother from the Indy airport. Then we were driving to Rock City. But, upon my brother's arrival, we learned that his car had been impounded from his house because he isn't allowed to park on the street. So, we spent about 45 minutes waiting for him to find a way to get someone in Kansas City to pick up his impounded car. Rumor has it, these conversations involved him dropping the f-bomb. If you know my brother at all, that will be the highlight of this post.

2. Upon finally leaving for lovely MooshyAgain (Will's term), we get about 5 minutes away and realize that we forgot to leave a key for Homa who is house sitting. Not a good way to ensure someone can come in and let the dogs potty and eat. So, we turn back. Not a good start to our trip.

3. We arrive at the Huntington, Indiana Dairy Queen for a little snack and break for the kids. Upon exiting the car, Will's entire butt is covered in wee wee. Leaky diaper. Great. So Mark unpacks the car to get into his suitcase and get him a dry pair of pants. I take him into the DQ restroom to change his diaper and once the cold air hit his wee wee, the floor was covered in pee pee. So was I. So Mark exits to unpack the car a second time and get me a clean shirt.

4. When finally in Detroit, we take the kids to the Detroit Zoo. Because the builders of the zoo are evil, the first thing you see is a massive playground. At that point, animals were just not worth the effort. So, $40 (plus another $30 for souvenirs and snacks) to play at a playground. Nice. At least Mark and Tabbi got to see some animals.

5. We decide to cross the pond to Canada on Sunday. Internet advertises Science City in Windsor, so we think "perfect." And by we, I mean me. Looked like a cool little sciencey children's museum. Traffic in the tunnel took forever, and we arrive at Science City about 25 minutes before they close. Luckily, we arrived 25 minutes before they closed, which meant that we didn't spend any money to go through that dirty, rundown, living animals in nasty puddles of water, sorry excuse for a Science City. After leaving the sad, sad little science town, we couldn't just put the kids back in the car for another hour, so we found a playground. In the hood. If Canada and all its universal health care and non-hand gun allowing splendor could have a hood, this is it. We were surrounded by middle school aged thugs and their thugettes. But, we stood firm and Will and Tabbi had a lovely playground experience. I think Will is pretty sure the zoo and Canada are the same place.

6. My mom and I take the kids to the Rainforest Cafe for dinner. Lovely, until we get back home and realize that while we left the forest, the key to the rental house was still there. We had to then figure out where the forest was, as we had no idea where we were unless Kate the British GPS told us how to get there. In this case, we had just jumped off the highway, but had no idea how to find our way back. Luckily, after much use of technology (and Homa for googling an address) we got back there, retrieved the key, and then returned to the rental house.

So, moral of the story... don't leave home without a GPS and a DVD player in your car. Or... just don't leave home.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Getting to know you... Getting to know all about you...

I just received this facebook meme from about 200 people yesterday and I am nothing if not a follower. I am also going out of town today and not sure when I will post again, so I thought a list of 50 things will take people awhile to comb through. So, if you read like 10 a day, you will be done by the time I get back.

1) Favorite object in your room? Me? Although it happens too rarely. I kinda wish I was in my room more often. Alone. With no one but my lover, Tivo.

2) Have you ever smoked heroin? I am so drug non-inclined, I didn't even know you smoked heroin. I thought that was a shoot-em upper.

3) Do you own a gun? Nope. Not a fan of the gats. Have big dog for protection instead (although don't tell the robbers that like a spider, she is way more afraid of them than they should be of her).

4) What flavor do you add to your drink at sonic? I don't add nothin' to my Diet Coke.

5) Do you get nervous before doctor appointments? Uh yeah... That scale looms before me like a cliff and I am about to step off the edge.

6) What do you think of hot dogs? I love me some Costco or Sam's dogs! 6,000 calories of sodium induced goodness.

7) What song are you listening to? Go, Diego, Go! Vamos, Diego, Vamos! Its a catchy tune that will be playing in my head well into the nursing home years.

8) Drink in the morning? Diet Coke.

9) Any plans tonight? Driving to lovely Detroit. Not really paradise, but a vacation nonetheless.

10) Can you do a chin up? I doubt it.

11) What's your favorite piece of jewelry? Hmmm... I know what I am supposed to say (my wedding ring) but really, I love me some big earrings.

12) Do you like blue cheese? Nope. I am pretty cheese boring. I don't like very many types.

13) Ever been in a car wreck? Never a serious one.

14) What color is your couch? Chocolate brown micro suede with white dog hair accents.

15) What's one thing that you hate about yourself? One thing? That's like trying to eat one Dorito. Who can stop there? Maybe... uh... my lack of tolerance for being out of control. One might refer to me as a "control freak."

16) Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment. I don't want to pack, am hungry for breakfast but there's nothing to eat and oohhh... leftover pizza... ignore number two.

18) Name 3 things you bought yesterday? I bought Tabbi little bras (don't tell her I told you), Will some shoes and me a shirt for $6.78 at Target on clearance. Can't pass that up.

19) Name 3 drinks you drink regularly? Diet Coke, Diet Coke and Diet Coke.

20) Current worry? Two words... Road Trip!!!

21) Current hate right now? Hmmm... Dog hair. Covering. EVERYTHING. IN MY HOUSE!

22) Who was your last text from and what did it say? Hmmm... I think it was from Lori and it said something like "I will call you later." She didn't, for the record.

23) How was New Years Eve? Uh, I am not even sure I remember doing anything on New Year's Eve. Is that wrong? Actually, I think Will was sick so we cancelled our plans, if I remember correctly.

24) How was your day? Its 9:56a, so my day is just starting. So far so good.

25) Name three people who will complete this? Tara (because she already did), Heidi because she does these things sometimes and maybe Amie.

26) Do you own slippers? Nope. Don't wear them.

27) What are you wearing? Hmmm... do I tell the truth? Red snowflake jammies.

28) Do you like sleeping on satin sheets? No way. You could slip right out of bed. I don't do stain jamas for the same reason.

29) Can you whistle? Yes

30) What kind of shampoo do you use? Sale Brand El Cheapo. I just don't spend much on hair care. You can probably tell by the hair.

31) Would you be a pirate? No, I am not really a let's pretend kinda girl.

32) What songs do you sing in the shower? I don't sing in the shower.

33) Favorite girls name? Olivia (although its uber faddy right now)

34) Favorite boy's name? Like I can pick... Will and Jack are tied.

35) What's in your pocket? Jammies. No pockets.

36) Last person that made you laugh? Will. He constantly makes me laugh.

37) Best bed sheets as a child? The only ones I remember are Snoopy. So, I guess they win.

38) Worst injury you've ever had? That one time when I was caught in the middle of the gang fight in Compton and I was stabbed trying to get away.

39) Do you love where you live? Yes. I really do.

40) How many TV's are in your house? Three. Is that too many?

41) Who is your loudest friend? Dear God, I married him. Mark is like a human megaphone. Its his most annoying feature.

42) How many dogs do you have? Two. Bentley and MissyBellaYuki.

43) Does someone have a crush on you? Doubtful. I don't even like me much anymore.

44) What is the most recent picture in your phone of? Will being funny... and Jack. Both taken at the same time.

45) What color is your tooth brush? Clear and purple.

46) What is your favorite candy? Chocolate. Yum. Drool.

47) Favorite Sports Team? Wow... I am not really a favorite sports team kind of girl, but I guess the Colts. I love me some Peyton Manning.

48) Where is the next place you want to travel? Detroit, of course. T minus 3 hours.

49) What were you doing at 11 pm last night? Watching Hell's Kitchen.

50) What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up? I need a day off.

Stay tuned for updates from Detroit Rock City... if we all survive the car ride. PS... Kudos to anyone who noticed there is no 17. What's up with that.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

American Idle

Yeah, so I went to number a list today and I started with number two. What was number one? I don't freakin' know. I just started with number two. And you know the best part... I didn't even catch it. Mark did. MARK POINTED IT OUT. That is a bad sign people.

That is what happens when your day is comprised of saying "shhh shhh shhhh, no cry-y baby" and endless episodes of Ni Hao, Kai Lan. Its not that I mind being a stay home mom or anything, but my God, I need to use my brain for something. You know that whole "use it or you lose it" theory.... true story.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Golly, What a Day!!!

So yesterday was insanity. Really... just about the weirdest day of all time.

First, I am pregnant. I am on the birth control Mirena, and I am pregnant again. So, I guess that answers my "do we or don't we" question. I can say this all very casually because I am still in shock.

Then, I was offered a job. What? Me, work???? My old boss from the staffing agency called and they are looking for a Vice President over their temp to perm placement division. The job is mine if I want it. It pays a great deal, meaning way more than enough to put the kids in daycare and still bring home a pretty penny. And, in this economy... can you really afford to say no? But, there is the pregnant thing. So, I told him about that and he didn't care, as long as I committed to come back after I had the baby. Which, who can blame him for asking that, because I totally quit on maternity leave last time I had a baby while working for him. That was the big "I am a stay home mom" transition. So, that is a decision I have to make.

And, as if that isn't weird enough... I lent my good friend a couple bucks the other day for gas, and apparently she also had enough left to buy a lottery ticket... and she won. She won about $3.2 million after taxes if she picks the one time pay off... and she wants to give me part of it since it was my money. We haven't discussed how much, but she is saying at least $500,000!!! Holy cannoli! Do you know how many diapers that is??? I am astounded!!! Shocked!!!

And if you can believe any of that... you better go check your calendar and see what day it is... because really, the only amazing thing that happened yesterday is that I managed to get some housekeeping crap done without going suicidal or homicidal... which is almost as amazing as winning the lotto!!!