Moving Mountains

So I know that many of you read my blog, and have been also reading my friend Kerri's blog and are aware of the passing of her son, Kai. Obviously losing a child is the hardest thing ANYONE, parent or not, can think of. Sadly, this does happen. Forty-six children are diagnosed EVERY DAY with cancer. I don't know the statistics on survival, but not every child diagnosed survives. Grief can take many forms- tears, denial, complete depression. It can also spur action, and in the case of some dedicated mamas who I am lucky to count myself among, it did here in central Massachusetts. We created Kai's Village to provide support, both emotional and financial, for families dealing with childhood cancer. Last weekend we held a Holiday Market to do just that- raise funds through raffles, bake sales, and vendor fees. Literally, it was three weeks in the making. THREE WEEKS. Think about what you can accomplish in three weeks. I can start a book unit at work, perhaps clean a closet or two, depending on the plans of the children, and not much else. I could surely sail to England, but I've never tried. In three weeks this group of dedicated mamas (and quite a few dads too!) pulled off a market that was extraordinary. It was packed all day long- volunteers and donors came out of the woodwork, and it was nothing less than wildly successful. In the organizing and planning for this event, it brought a team of women even closer together than we already were. These are moms that are not "like" me in many ways- but it honestly didn't matter one bit- we had a common goal. It also reminded me how much I love those women- and how much I enjoy being with them, even if one of us got a little fiesty- and really, with almost 200 raffle prizes, it was bound to happen- it didn't change the way we care for one another. I needed that reminder- it's not necessarily about who is similar to you, but who knows and loves you for who you are.

Margaret Mead nailed it  "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." And will keep doing so.

'Tis the Giving Season

It's December! YES! I love December for lots and lots and lots of reasons. I love wrapping paper, bows, tacky tinsel, and white lights. I also love experiencing all of those things with M, and now J. It's amazing to see the world in a new way. It's extra exciting this year for several reasons.

1. I love my job. I continue to enjoy teaching and this year I am teaching a lot of art classes, which has allowed me time to get back into painting- something I have always loved, but allowed to flop onto the back burner.
2. My laundry is mostly done. That's amazing.
3. I will get to spend time with lots of friends and family this month, and that's the BEST.

Really though, some awesome stuff has come together in the last 24 hours which is great because it will benefit many during this season of giving! Drumroll please, and be prepared for some unabashed fundraising. Through Kai's story I found out about two organizations that rock- Peach's Neet Feet and Maxlove. The women that run those organizations reached out to me via Kai's Village to donate to the raffle we are having next weekend at the Holiday Market- with proceeds going to Kai's Village, Sherry's House, and Why Me? If you are local and would like to "stop for a reason, shop for the season" check out all the details. What Madison and Audra do through their organizations is just awesome- and I am totally excited to help spearhead the Love + Light initiative for Maxlove here in Boston!!! I'm working on sharpening up my painting skills so I can paint for Peach too, but my outlining skills really need to improve first!

That said, consider donating- $30 to Peach's Neet Feet provides a pair of sneakies for a child battling terminal illness, and just $15 to Maxlove provides a snuggly hat and Twilight Turtle (Thank you Cloud B!) to these brave kids too! Or shop at the holiday market- 100% of my proceeds at the Mama Bee Goods table will be donated to Kai's Village, Peach's Neet Feet, and Maxlove.

Really, doesn't that all sound MUCH better than fighting the crowds at the mall?

You must remember this...

My mind is a swirling mess this morning- snippets of poems, lyrics, quotes- while there isn't much cohesiveness, the theme is consistent. I'll start with Sappho- a writer, c. 650 in Ancient Greece, and a part of my junior year curriculum in high school. I might have been a crap student but I did get a lot from John Howard's AP English class, including a poem which I think of frequently.

You may forget but 
let me tell you 
this: someone in 
some future time 
will think of us.
-Sappho

These days, I read a lot of Walter Dean Myers with my students and this morning I was struck my the truth in this line from his memoir, Bad Boy. 

While we live our own individual lives, what has gone before us, our history, always has an effect on us. 

My students are currently writing a response to this and while I have been teaching for almost fourteen years, I have never gotten such eloquent and thoughtful responses. I'm a lucky teacher today.

Thankful

Thankful doesn't even begin to cut it. I am thankful for many things in my world. Tonight, I am thankful for my children, my husband, and my parents. I am also thankful for Miss Karen- having a sitter allowed me to cry and mourn for another mother that lost her baby last night. There is nothing I can say.

Sleep my child and peace attend thee,

All through the night

Guardian angels God will send thee,

All through the night

Soft the drowsy hours are creeping

Hill and vale in slumber steeping,

I my loving vigil keeping

All through the night.

While the moon her watch is keeping

All through the night

While the weary world is sleeping

All through the night

O'er thy spirit gently stealing

Visions of delight revealing

Breathes a pure and holy feeling

All through the night.

My thoughts and prayers are with Kerri tonight. Rest, sweet Kai.

Baby sitters

So my leg is royally screwed up. I fell down the stairs at work and as hysterical as I am sure it was to see, it also hurt a lot. I hopped up trying not to cry and busted to my car and for home because I WAS NOT GOING TO CRY IN FRONT OF MY BOSS. Nope, not going to do it. Then, because I'm stubborn, I waited three days to go to the ER. Yeah, I'm dumb, and REALLY stubborn. Oh well. That's not a surprise. So now I have a highly attractive boot to wear. My students figured out that I could accessorize it with velcro ornaments so at least it's entertaining to look at. I am still trying to finagle some lights and maybe a blinking red nose, a la Rudolph. That said, I am not as capable as I usually am. Today is "Black Friday" and of course, my dear husband is working a double- yup, that's 8 am to midnight. Sucks for him, and most of the time it's tolerable for me. Unless I am hurting and crippled. Then it SUCKS royally. You know what though? I finally listened to my mother (yup, she's a genius. No surprise there either!) and got a sitter. Not a sitter like wahoo I'm going out on the town or back to school night. A sitter as in my leg hurts a lot and I just want peace and quiet for a few hours kind of sitter. The kind of sitter who is available on short notice and straight up LOVES my kids. I have to tell you- she got J down for a nap (yup, one of my children NAPPED) and took M out for a bike ride- yes, he was wearing a helmet- no, he wasn't in a tow along death trap- yes, the tricycle has a handle. M LOVES Miss Karen. Adores. Talks about her. If I wasn't so well adjusted (cough cough) I would be jealous (big cough) and I. Just. Sat. Quietly. I read for a bit, I cooked a bit, but really? I reveled in the silence. I did feel a little selfish but my boys were thrilled and so was their mommy. I iced AND elevated my leg. I spoke to another adult. I felt refreshed. That's hard to capture as a mother to two as SO many of my friends can attest to. It was time that let me put myself first, which RARELY happens, and probably needs to happen a bit more.

In a month and time of my life where I am counting my blessings, Miss Karen is definitely one.

Action

Action may not always bring happiness; but there is no happiness without action. -Benjamin Disraeli

This can mean many things, but to me, these days, it means that if you are able- you are doing something to improve the world. If you read my blog regularly then you are aware of my friend Kerri's journey with her son Kai- www.kaisfightclub.org- and you have been touched by their story. I can't take away Kai's pain, or alleviate Kerry's fears for the future, but I can help meet everyday needs. I can cook a meal, say a prayer, or make a donation. And so can you. Here, at Kai's Village, you can find out how you can help. Make a meal yourself, or make a donation. Sign up to participate in a craft fair benefiting Kai's Fight Club, or come shop yourselves. Send a raffle item, or buy raffle tickets. Say a prayer. We are all blessed in the fact that we can change the world, one moment at a time. One smile, one hug, one positive thought.

What a difference a year makes

So today is Sweet Baby J's first birthday. He won't officially be a year old until a little after seven tonight, but eh, really, that doesn't matter so much. I am, however, officially that mom that gets up at 4:30 am just because it's quiet and I can have a cup of coffee in peace. As I relish (chug) my pumpkin swirl I was thinking about how J is the last baby for me. That makes me sad for several reasons (um, hello, I have two BOYS. Neither of whom looks very good in tulle) but mostly because I won't get to have another baby at EMERSON. The best HOSPITAL EVER. Yes, I love them. For a slightly amusing birth story, read this. Then tell me you wouldn't love Emerson too!

Thank you to my wonderful birth team- Ingrid, Sherri, Jeannie K, Sharon, Eileen, Mary, Heather, Jane, Annie, really- the list goes on... have I mentioned yet that it's the best hospital EVER?

Blessings

Today has been a rough day- my baby turns one tomorrow and it's bittersweet- going through the baby clothes I cried and cried at the loss of infancy. Then I woke up this morning and read about Kerri and her son Kai. My sentimental feelings suddenly seemed so trivial. You can read about their journey at Keiki Kai. I have been following the path that their life has taken since Kai's diagnosis of an optic glioma. This is a family preparing to say goodbye to their dear little one, only two years old. It is a process that no mother should go through, and yet many have. While I have only met Kerri a few times, this doesn't matter as my heart breaks for them. The strength that she has shown is inspirational to ALL mothers, whether they make their own baby food, cloth diaper, or make choices different from our own. The entire village of moms that we are both so lucky to be a part of is standing besides Kai, Kerri, and their family throughout this chapter of their lives. Hug your babies, your children, your mothers. Your husbands, sons, and fathers. Say a prayer, think good thoughts, light a candle- do whatever it is that you do to show support and sisterhood to fellow mamas.

Singing a Patriotic Tune

It's a good day to be an American; a woman; and pro-family! That said, I am looking forward to regaining some sense of sanity even if it means I won't have anything to write about! My status updates will return to ridiculous blah blah about cranky children, waiting in line, and what I'm having for dinner. Pretty sure my friends will be thrilled!

Oh hell no!!!

Obviously I am a staunch supporter of the Democratic party. Granted, some people that I love dearly are the "R Word", and you know what? That's ok. I love them for the people they are not the ballots they cast. HOWEVER, I will not abide by other people's judgement and holier than thou attitude. I was at the polls today, waiting in line- not to vote, but at the bake sale table. I mean really, my kids will go to school there one day, I am fine with buying some gluten free treats to support them!!! No big deal. There was a couple standing there too, who I don't know, but are a couple. Two women, there with THEIR KIDS. I don't give a hoot how many mommies children have. It's not my call. I care that parents provide their children with love, support, and the freedom to be who they are. If the only thing I give my children is the comfort to know they will always be loved, then I have done my job as a parent. Personally, I also support gay marriage, and adoption, and anything else someone who is gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered- wants to do. In college I was a big Rainbow Coalition member- yes, me, a straight white girl- and firmly believed then, as I do now, that who you love doesn't matter AT ALL. My grandfather? Not so much. I had a rainbow pin on my backpack and he was APPALLED. He wanted me to take it off before entering his house. After several hours of me sitting in the carport REFUSING my grandmother (a pain in my butt but I loved her dearly) appealed to him and I was allowed into the house. He was also a republican with a big, fat, capital R, and I loved him dearly too. More than almost anyone in my life, except my mom. Yes, I turned the pictures of George Bush when I was staying there, but I loved him vociferously and ferociously. I digress- polling place. Massachusetts. Present day. Another woman waiting in line for delicious chocolate chip cookies, was huffing and puffing next to the family also waiting for their sweet treat. She was visibly perturbed and honestly, I just couldn't take it anymore. I asked if she was ok. She rolled her eyes and said "I just don't understand how people like THAT can pretend to be parents and waltz in here." Holy. Shit. I had not encountered such overt homophobia. And loud! And obvious!!!!!! This woman was glaring, and shooting daggers at a happy family supporting the neighborhood school. I couldn't take it. I am incredibly thankful that my children weren't with me, because I lost it. It's been a long week and there was no more holding back (I work with the only Republican teachers I have ever met and dang, school has been like a war zone!). I let it rip. I will never repeat what I really said because honestly, I'm not too proud of some of the language I used. No F bombs or traditional curse words, I was in an elementary school, but let's just say I asked some prying questions into her bedroom behavior, and the way she was raising her children, and whether she liked it or not when I was passing judgement. I have no idea who she was, or what her life is like, but in that moment, I really didn't give a rat's ass. I can tolerate many things but not bigotry and hatred in action. There are many things I want to say even now- I am still SO MAD.

Proud of myself? Maybe not. It probably wasn't the time nor place, but I couldn't let it go. I will certainly never be the queen bee of the mom's group, because she could be a member for all I know.

But my children will grow up in a family that does not accept bigotry or hatred. And having a mom willing to speak up, be heard, and fight for the rights of ALL Americans.

Happy Election Day to one and all. Be heard. Be the voice of reason.

Oy. Professional Development.

So today I have a professional development workshop on writing. It's actually really good, but they made us write a personal narrative. At eight. In the MORNING. So I thought I would share it for kicks and giggles.

Fabric swatches, spider webs of thread, scraps of paper. Slightly skewed pins poke my fingers as I sift through my box of treasures. A purple and teal quilt square drips over the edge like paint sliding down the outside of the can. It’s not paint, but fabric is my paint of choice. I use bits and snippets to create colorful scenes to be shared and loved by many.

The purple and teal are remnants from the first foray I made into quilting. At my mother’s side she showed me how to use the rotary cutter oh so carefully making neat even rows of squares. She taught me to thread the sewing machine effortlessly, and how NOT to sew my own finger. That first quilt still hangs in my childhood bedroom and lord is it ugly. Yet every time I see it I return to sun filled afternoons in the attic sewing room adjacent to my bedroom. I remember that in the middle of the night when sleep eluded me, I would slip over to the “other” side taking care not to fall down the stairs or hit my head on the slanted ceiling just to sort and rearrange colorful blocks until it was just right, only to be redesigned the next day.

Those afternoons sewing were a highlight of my very busy youth. I spent endless hours rehearsing and performing, soaking up the spotlight (literally) center stage. The fabric play was just a background piece of me- something I didn’t talk about or identify as making me who I was. Yet now, as an adult, it is the fabric that soothes me and gives me moments of tranquility in my hectic, 2012 mommy life. Each day brings with it new challenges and rewards, but very little time to actually sit and just be. Those stolen moments I have in the dining room with my fabric is magical- even when I’m cursing at the bobbin case that always catches or the dull rotary blade, I am really soaking up the restorative powers of craft- of moments in the sun with my mother sewing. No, the quilts are never perfect, but each one is beautiful, redolent with happy memories.

Dear GOP

Today is election day, which is awesome. My status of the morning was a dud, as I remember being awakened in 1992 the day after election day and upon learning of the loss of Clinton, sobbed and sobbed. Of course, Clinton WON in 1992, but the sentiment was still accurate! My mom reminded me of how when I was little when Reagan came on the TV I would cry inconsolably. I don't remember that but clearly I was politically motivated even at a young age. I do remember holding Clinton/Gore signs at the SuperFresh grocery store in Glassboro, NJ- wearing a plaid flannel shirt of course. C'mon, it was the nineties!!! So here we are many years later, and it's election time again. I have a vote, a voice, a choice, and I know who I will be casting a ballot for. Well, I think I do. Unless the GOP ponies up.

Dear GOP,
If you want my vote I need a couple of things. I will consider tossing my vote your way if you send me a nanny. Not just any nanny, I want SuperNanny. The British one. For at least a period of six years.
Love,
Very Tired Mommy

If you throw in a few sister wives to help with the laundry, then it's a done deal.

(please note- this post is written in jest-obviously my vote can't be bought!)

Wahoo! Or not?!

So recently this weird thing has happened- I lost almost twenty pounds since the spring and am pretty damn close to my wedding weight. I am guessing it's a diet of caffeine and no sleep but whatever, I'll take it. I fit in my PRE-MILES JEANS. This is awesome. It's fabulous. I can even button them and LEAVE them buttoned when sitting down! However, and here's the kicker- they are not so much fashion forward. They're a fashion rewind. I would never think that jeans go out of style, but oh, they do. I wore them last week and my very stylish homeroom of all girls (yeah, 7:45 to 8:05 am every day is like backstage at fashion week- they swap clothes, put on makeup, take it off, try to do it again, and then finally ask me to do it- before the boys walk into first period English Lit) and they called me OUT. "Um, Baer-boo (which is apparently my nickname this year- last year was Baer-YO) what decade are you dressed up as? I thought decade day (spirit week...sigh) was tomorrow?" Honestly I thought I looked fine but apparently they are the wrong "wash". Too eighties. C'mon, the only thing these kids know about the 80's is potentially eighty year old people! Can I call them out for wearing skin tight pants with "PINK" emblazoned on their bums? Those are HIDEOUS. Yoga pants, girls, yoga pants are where it's at.

With pearls.

A Drop in the Bucket

So today was our friend Thanksgiving- it was AWESOME of course. The food, the conversation, the wine- everything was LOVELY. In preparation though I had to drive all the way to Trader Joe's. I mean really, that's TWO towns over from work. It took me TWENTY THREE minutes. I kvetched about the anticipated trip all day. Dreaded it. Never mind the only reason I was going was to get wine! I got a bottle of this delicious stuff called Pinot Grigio Vivace for my birthday- it was fizzy like a prosecco but had a lovely crisp, citrusy finish. Like any good wine drinker I googled the brand and found out I could only get it at Trader Joe's- that was kind of lame but then I saw the price- $4.99. Yeah, that's right. Less than five bucks! Two bottles for the price of one bottle of Oyster Bay (which is still the most superior fantastic wine on the market don't misunderstand me- but not an everyday wine) and I was sold. Off to Trader Joe's I would go. Now that's a market that I totally don't understand- but I never shop there. It is always so hard for me to find stuff and some things are WAY cheaper but others (like capers!) are three times the price that they have at Weggie's. That and I always leave with way too many impulse buys just because of the workers in their Hakuna Matata style Hawaiian shirts. So I digress- I got to the store pretty quickly- no traffic- and busted straight for the wine section. I looked and looked and looked but couldn't find it. I finally asked the resident wino where it was and that's when he said it- "we're out", there are problems with our supplier. I almost lost it and started to get riled up until I glanced at the bottled water display.

It smacked me in the face right then- here I am worried about getting a preferred wine and much of the east coast is more concerned with finding potable water. Puts that in perspective, doesn't it? So I bought my second choice wine, a case of water, and smiled as I drove home- thankful for all that I have. My inner spoiled brat: 0. Rational thought: 1.

Parents & Kids

So this is sort of political, but sort of not. There is a candidate in this election who appears to be overly concerned about parents- who is parenting, how many of them, and is sort of stuck on this one mom, one dad, married situation. Yeah, that's what families were traditionally like, but really? It doesn't always work out like that. I am a lucky woman- I was raised in a loving family that instilled in me confidence and good values, as well as the importance of being able to take care of myself (when I am sick though all bets are off and I want my mommy- NOW!). Now that I am a parent with two pretty spectacularly amazing little boys, I am even more confused as to why a politician would give two ducks who is parenting. Let's get real- there are thousands of unloved, uncared for children in this country. There are kids that are abused, neglected, belittled, and perhaps worst of all, unloved. These are the children that I want my elected officials to concern themselves with. I certainly don't have an answer, but am pretty sure forcing women to bring unwanted children into the world is NOT it. Suggesting that two moms, two dads, and single parenting situations are the problem? Um, no. Families are not created by a legal marriage certificate, or anything other than love and the desire to raise another generation of inclusive, loving children raised with the common value that no one can determine what is moral or amoral when it comes to that love. I know some married male/female parents that kind of suck. I am sure there are some same sex couples that kind of suck as parents too. Being a crap parent can happen to anyone, and for fleeting moments even. We've all been there, at least for a bit. My kid's Jack O' Lantern is really ugly, probably because I refused to let him do the carving (mommy really likes that kind of thing!) and at that moment, I sucked. My J Dog is currently caterwauling as I think of other examples of my sucktasticness. I let my three year old sleep in my bed when dear hubs is working late because I am just too tired to go through the bedtime antics by myself.

Next thing you know politicians will be making comments about my family too. It's a slippery slope.

More politics

I am still thinking about my post this morning on politics and I have a few more thoughts.

-If you are a woman and NOT voting with me, I have a serious question as to your true gender, and what decade you think we are living in.
-Hey teachers who I might work with? If you are NOT voting with me then are you saying you would like to double your class size? I can send you my kids if that's the issue.

Yeah, if you are going to vote for a big fat bully go for it. Don't freaking cry to me if your world gets rocked if enough fools are thinking like you.

Halloween Vomits

Halloween has puked on my entire life. It's a side effect from having Halloween being canceled last year due to the happenings of Snowtober- and then we had a freakin' Snowpocalypse. It was ugly, really ugly (for proof, read this) and Halloween was totally ruined. I was also incredibly pregnant and lazy- decorated NOTHING, made no costumes, and was a general failure as a mother and Halloween aficionado. I swore this year was going to be different- I would actually be prepared for my kid's birthday parties (so far I am one for one!!!), I would decorate, I would get the tree up for the holidays (oh and take down the garland and Christmas lights from LAST year), and bake. So far, I've been pretty on task. My house, car, classroom, and brain look like Halloween ate mass quantities of pumpkins, bats, ghosts, witches, and candy corn- and then upchucked. My children have not one, but TWO homemade Halloween hats- numerous shirts, socks, pajamas sporting pumpkins, and multiple costumes (only one of which I made by hand). I am currently running a sweatshop producing tutus as well. I taught myself to crochet hats just so that my children could have (im)perfect pumpkin hats. I can't size things well so it's like a pumpkin patch of hats- even Goldilocks could find one that fit. Instead of learning how to make the right size, I just kept making them until one fit everybody. Yeah, stay tuned for an etsy sale. I can see the listing now "Hideous Handmade Hats- One Size Fits Somebody Somewhere". That's going to head to regretsy RIGHT away! We have carved pumpkins, painted pumpkins, dropped pumpkins, eaten pumpkin cookies, cake, pie, seeds, coffee, and bread.

This morning the peppermint mocha made it's initial appearance at Dunkin. Thank God. I am pumpkin'ed out. Not sure what the hell I am going to do November 1st- maybe move on to Christmas?

F&^%$&*# Politics

This election is making me INSANE. I can't believe the idiots that actually walk among us and their skewed views. Let's be clear- if you don't agree with me YOU ARE JUST WRONG. Yup, I'm close minded. Yup, I am pro-choice, but not in major elections. There is ONE choice. My choice. If you are not going to agree with me then I don't really want to discuss politics with you at all because I will say insane things and lose my mind temporarily. I am not totally interested in losing people I like just because of their political leanings. Granted, I sort of want to have an intervention for them, but I don't know that TLC has come out with that show yet. I would totally watch it if they did. I have a few people that I would nominate for it too. I work with a few people that would be eligible for a political intervention and it's starting to get UGLY. November 7th has the potential to be ugly.

Thankfully, Canada is a lovely country, and if there are enough people that insist on being wrong, that's where you will find me.

Hiatus

So apparently my brain shuts down in early summer and just begins to re-emerge in October. Not really sure why, but it's as if the summer melts any drive I have to accomplish pretty much anything. My summer was great and there was plenty to write about (like the mystery of the missing Jane & Jack swimsuit- now that was a travesty) but did I? Nope. I say on the back deck and taught summer school and went to Cape May and other such pedantic summer offerings. There were highlights of course- Disney World, birthday parties galore, the best pulled pork EVER (yeah, that's you Greg!), and lots of naps! HA. I am totally kidding of course. There was no napping. Why would anyone ever think that?

Now you poor readers are in for it though- my brain is on over drive and I have plenty to say, not all of it entertaining or relevant!

Whoops

So I just realized that I haven't blogged in like, four million years. Summer has a way of getting me so off task. You'd think I could laze about eating bon bons and blogging, but no. I didn't even make it to the beach (by myself, with NO kids) once, which was my major goal of the summer. Sad, yes. I wish my toddler actually enjoyed the sand, but so far, it's a no go. Ironically when I pick him up at school I have to pry him out of the sandbox kicking and screaming.

Yes, I said school. Mr. M is a full fledged preschooler now, so I guess the toddler days are behind us. At some point maybe the toddler behavior will be behind us too? I mean, a girl can dream!!! His entrance into preschool has been pretty smooth, especially considering we moved J-Dog over to the same center so it's only one drop off in the morning. Mr. M loves it and begs to go to school, even on weekends! He adores his teacher Miss 'Nessa (Vanessa is apparently way too long a name for him) and likes to tell stories about her. Last night she lived in a castle with three frogs, a goat, and a cow. The castle was on top of horse mountain, and the chip truck came to bring Miss Nessa lunch. Yeah, he's not exactly Dr. Seuss- yet. Oh, and she was "sickwy" and turned all purple. It's those details that kill me. J-Dog seems to like his room too, and likes to crawl over to crying babies and pat their faces. Melt.

The thing that astonishes me the most? Getting the kids out of the house by 6:15 is actually EASIER than trying to get out at 7:15! I don't know what it is, but morning has been so smooth and I've been able to get coffee AND arrive at work on time at 7! This morning was a double turbo shot morning...insomnia is so not my friend.

Tanorexia

So there was recently that lady in the news who is being accused of taking her six year old into the tanning salon (her claim) or tanning booth (DCF's claim). Now this woman is orange in the worst- so disturbingly overly tan it actually hurts. Her kid looks pale as anything on the news, so I don't really know what went on there. However, this morning on the radio they were backing the mom and saying if she wants to take her kid tanning it's her call. I was FLARING. How is that ok in any stretch of the imagination? That's UNSAFE. Could be DEADLY. And then I remembered that my toddler eats chocolate ice cream regularly (sugar, cholesterol), candy off and on (eek- CORN SYRUP!) and has had sips of a diet coke (chemicals up the wazoo, and fake corn syrup); probably has eaten his fair share of dirt (neurotoxins, pollutants, arsenic, old lace, lord only knows!) and requests McDonald's by name. If we are going to say that this woman exposing her child to UV rays is wrong because they are dangerous, what about EVERY SINGLE OTHER PARENT ON THE PLANET? The ones who don't vaccinate are leaving their children open to potentially deadly diseases, but the ones who do could have a child with a reaction; the ones who use disposable diapers are killing the earth; but the ones who use cloth use lots of water; the ones who grow all their own fruits and vegetables in a hermetically sealed, pesticide free bubble probably have tractors that emit fumes that eat through the ozone layer, and the ones who grab whatever is on sale at the megamart could have a kid with a third eye. Pretty much everything we do is ruining someone's tomorrow, it's just the way it is.

Except napping in the sun and sipping sangria. I haven't found the flip side to that.

Vacation? What's that?

I like to be busy. A day where I have nothing planned is pretty annoying and I wake up irritated. Vacation is no different- when we go to Disney I want to DO stuff! I walk more at Disney then I probably do the entire rest of the year combined. By the time the 10 pm Spectro Magic parade starts, I'm  exhausted! It's worth it though. And yes, I take my two year old. He loves it. I figure he has the rest of his life to sleep. This past vacation week was no different, aside from the fact that daycare was closed. And hubby was at work, A LOT. And we now have TWO kids. So I stacked our schedule- no fewer than two events per day. We went to Davis Farmland- twice. The Mystic Aquarium, Il Forno, Dean Park- too many times to count. Swim class, playdates, shopping- I made sure we were BUSY. By Sunday evening I was completely exhausted, but it was well worth it. All three of us survived vacation, and actually enjoyed it!!!!! Going to work this morning was pretty amazing though- in the car by 6:40- coffee, ATM, and daycare by 7:10, work at 7:30. Ok, I was a bit late- 7:33.

You know what? My forty-plus high schoolers are way easier than my two munchkins. Apparently work has become mommy's vacation.

That Mom

So today I had a revelation- nothing terribly exciting- I didn't redesign the cloth diaper to wash itself, or anything truly helpful. I was just driving to the park and thinking about this long a-s-s week, and realized that all of a sudden I'm THAT MOM. You know, the one that other people look at with pity? No, just kidding. The mom that is always toting around a diaper bag, is adept at picking up a toddler who just dove headfirst off the play structure platform while the baby is in the carrier, and doesn't bat an eye when projectile vomit makes an entrance. The one that even schools another mom who is allowing her ten year old to run through the playground full of toddlers with a sharpened stick (I blame Hunger Games. I would blame Lord of the Flies but no one reads it anymore!) plowing little kids over. Really lady? Get off your phone and note that your child is leaving a wailing trail of small children in his path (expect my kid- he thought it was pretty funny); don't act surprised when I point this out. She got sort of snotty until I asked for her name and address so I knew where to send the medical bills for when my kid gets rushed to Mass Eye and Ear because she can't tell her son to stop. Snarky, yes. For the greater good though. There was a collective sigh of relief when they left. Wait, back to my revelation. I just might have turned into the mom I loved to hate. No, I still don't have healthy homemade snacks for my kid, but I did remember a camera, baby wipes, antiseptic wash for M's constantly skinned knees, and my phone. Which I used to ask another mom to bring a blanket for my shivering infant. I can't remember EVERYTHING. So far this week my toddler has smeared multiple servings of "chock-late" ice cream on his face, visited sea creatures, goats, chickens, and even touched a snake. We've been the park multiple times, celebrated birthdays, taken tubbies, and are still standing. Barely. He's actually asleep, which is good, because tomorrow we do it again- animals, running, lunch, ice cream. We'll load up the generic mom SUV and hit the road again.

That said, how many days are left before daycare reopens?

Yeah. I don't think so.

There are four different types of bullying- since y'all aren't actually sitting in my psych class today I will spare you the rest of the power point- and it's prevalent in our society, many times without even realizing it. One of my students was really into giving examples of what is bullying vs. what isn't. I certainly am not an expert, but as an employ of a public school system I am pretty savvy. We are constantly on the lookout for behavior that can be termed bullying, especially when it comes from the world of everyone's favorite timesucker  social networking site, Facebook. Yes, it's outside of school, but yes, it's still my responsibility to be aware of it, and report it. What struck me this week however was how bullying is evident in all phases of life. We may call it something different- maybe you have a friend that's "headstrong", "domineering", "a control freak"- but really, they can tend to be bullies. Hell, I am pretty sure that I have inadvertently bullied someone else in my life time- not on purpose, but let's be real. Last week I saw it first hand. One person says one thing, somebody else jumps in, and then more and more people are throwing around their opinions. That's great, the more the merrier! And then comes THAT person. The one that puts things out there as the end all, be all. In my world, the sanctimommy. Again, I can handle that. Until you use inflammatory language that does nothing but instill fear and generate a knee-jerk response. Yeah, that's my deal breaker. I don't give a hoot what you are actually saying, no one is going to hear it, simply because of word choice. That's the line. Don't poke it, tiptoe over it, nothing- at least, not when I'm around. I was FLAMING. Hopping mad. Angry. Irate. Breathing fire. I was really ready to say things that would potentially have me banned from social networking until 2020- but then I drank a little more wine (hey it might have been kosher but it still did the trick!) and tried to exercise restraint. Which I sort of did, at least publicly.

I guess I'm that mom- loud, brash, and a little wacky- but totally the one you want in your corner.

Please sir, may I have some more?

I feel like one of the street urchins in Oliver. STARVING. I am so hungry I would eat my arm but I don't know how many calories it has, and there isn't a listing for it on myfitnesspal. If we are being clear, she is NOT my pal. Yes, she is a woman, and she's a bitch. Snarking at me all the time. "You are over your calorie goal". No shit. Obviously I am over my calorie goal, I am not blind. I get dressed every morning and am reminded that I eat too much. Food tastes delicious. It's  yummy. Hash browns taste far more delicious than the Wake-up Crap, I mean wrap, I ate this morning. I need the R & D team at Dunkin' to get on a smokehouse sausage breakfast sandwich with 75 calories and no fat. They would make MILLIONS. Perhaps even BILLIONS. And exercise? The stupid thing does not recognize breathing as exercise! Or sleeping! I snore, that MUST be burning calories? What about pushing a double stroller? Give me some credit there lady! I actually dreamt about bacon.

I lost three pounds though. Guess she's my pal after all. At least, for now.

Pediatricians

Now, you all know how much I love my pediatrician. He basically walks on water. They ALWAYS get me in, and are super nice to boot. I think Miles has a little crush on Erin, one of the nurses. He giggles and turns red when she comes in to see him. This week I saw a little too much of them. Three visits total. One scheduled, two sick visits. Yeah, that's a lot, especially over three days. The "well visits" i.e. the ones I don't have to pay for since insurance companies like your kids to be vaccinated, was a HOT MESS. I even used that term when talking with the doctor and he put it in my chart along with a definition because he hadn't heard it. Really? All those other moms MUST be lying. I took both boys to have their four month and 30 month checkups. I will never do that again, at least, not without backup. You see, my toddler can open the doors with the lever handles. Which resulted in his little naked self busting out into the nurses station and doing a jig. My boys are so petite they get weighed with nothing on. My offspring is petite. Shocking, I know, given the astounding shape their parents are in. Hell, round is a shape, right? So M is doing his little naked toddler dance as Shrimp is freaking out because he doesn't like being naked. Needless to say the nurse had to bring M back in for me. We managed to contain the chaos while I was TRYING to talk to the doc about my concerns. I finally barricaded the door with the chair and trash barrel. We were in the home stretch until it came time for Shrimp's vaccinations (I am a vaccinating mama- with being a teacher and both boys in daycare, I just can't bring myself to leave them in the wind). M took one look at those needles and started attacking his beloved Erin the nurse. Full out, kicking, screaming, scratching. I was pretty much restraining him as he screamed "NO! HURT! BROTHER!" which was adorable in and of itself, but no so helpful at the time. Finally got everyone clothed and out the door after an hour (and my pediatrician was with me the whole time, because he ROCKS) and of course, M wouldn't get in the carseat. Full blown tantrum in the parking lot. Shrimp screaming because he's sore and hungry, and M, well, he's two. What the hell do toddlers even think? I just don't know. Then nurse Erin came out. The one that M had just recently gone all exorcist on- she took one look at him and he was in his seat smiling, flirting, blushing. Thank god for nurses, and cute ones to boot. Luckily the next two visits this week were for the puking, croup-y infant, with no toddler in tow. Everyone is fine now, but it was a pretty ugly few days.

Lord, I can't wait to go back to work tomorrow. High schoolers are SO much easier.

Daylight Saving Time Revisited

So awhile back I had some very definite feelings about daylight saving time. Feel free to check out that tirade here. Today however, I am feeling the love! An extra hour of daylight! Sunshine! Daydreams! Puppy dogs and rainbows! It didn't hurt that it was a gorgeous day and hubs had coffee for the first time. He was like the energizer landscaper, unleashing his energy on scraggly trees and leaves. Granted, now we have yet another pile of trees that need a home. My yard is like a really fancy playset except all the climbing apparatus (apparati?) are trees. I took a nap, got errands done- we even had dinner with friends (yes, we have friends. My snarky nature hasn't driven everyone away. Yet.) and everything was hunky dorey, until Mr. M decided to have a total "I haven't napped in two days and ran around the yard for three hours and am covered in dirt" meltdown. Into the tub, and into the bed. The first time in DAYS he hasn't screamed and hollered upon placement in his crib. I even got away with NOT reading the "Wheels on the Bus" for the three millionth time. He went to bed at 7:30 which is really 6:30, and for one night it will be fine. We'll have to bump him back to 6:30 bedtimes though because he won't be up tomorrow morning, and it's tough enough to get the three of us out the door on Monday mornings without him being asleep until the last minute. Not such a big deal, I got that covered. The nicest part of this spring ahead stuff? Shrimp and daddy slept in- it was the cutest thing- Shrimp was all stretched out on my side of the bed next  to his daddy. Miles and I got coffee, donuts, cleaned the kitchen, AND put away all the laundry before either of them stirred.

The best part of DST? Miles woke up at a socially acceptable time on the weekend. It was amazing. He slept until 6:01 am, new time. That felt SO much more reasonable than 5:01 am. It's all smoke and mirrors, but I'll take it.

Competent in Snark

So today I got to go to an amazing inservice training. I know, those words don't typically go together, but this one was really great. It was basically about how ignoring differences between people is just as bad as being prejudiced. You can't learn anything if you don't recognize that obviously we all have different experiences. We watched the clip from "The Family Stone" where SJP manages to insult numerous people at the table by asking questions that seem fairly logical- except it wasn't the right time or place. Pretty damn funny actually. As a teacher, you have to walk a fine line between questioning and judging, and it's like that in your real world too, especially in your village. I tend to get in trouble there, because I do have a tendency to resort to snarkiness. For example, on a post asking for great, easy, recipes, my standard response is "Grab phone. Dial". While amusing, and most people "get" me, I could totally see how that would piss people off. Cultural competence has sort of replaced the concept of political correctness in my view. How do we acknowledge and respect differences without offending? Why do we even care? Well, the answer to that is simple. Doctors take an oath to "first do no harm", and it's pretty much the same with most of the people I know. No one wants to hurt another, or upset them in any way, and yet it happens, ALL THE TIME. If we didn't disagree and discuss things with each other it would be really boring. There are hot button issues in the mommy world, especially in no particular order: vaccination, circumcision, breastfeeding, and bed sharing. No matter how you approach it, in the virtual world, someone WILL get pissed off because you are missing so much of the context. I mean, saying something with a wink face to face changes it so much, but when you write it, that just doesn't translate. I have taken to using "snort, wink, chortle, giggle" to lend my comments more of a context. Pretty soon I may have to start using a disclaimer; as a hothead (which I have just recently discovered about myself) I am going to offend someone. And I can't shut my mouth once I start. Then the snark sets in. I have been apprenticed to the Jedi Masters of snark and so far I'm doing pretty well with it.

It's not too hard, especially when you're overtired and have puke in your hair.

Uggy! Uggy!

When I was a small child my mom bought me a snowsuit to keep me nice and toasty warm. I think it had Peter Rabbit on it, and was yellow. As the story goes, I hated that snowsuit with burning hot passion, and refused to put it on, thrashing about and SCREAMING. "Uggy! Uggy! NOOOO!" My poor mother finally gave up, wrapped me a blanket, and spirited me off to daycare. At this point, I can honestly say that payback's a bitch. I had Bubba in his skinny jeans, t-shirt, and one-stars, and pulled out the new hoodie I found for him from that Gwen Stefani line. It's adorable- black with grey stars on it, and red lining. We're talking so cute I want one in my size! Well, apparently he hates it. Beyond burning hot passion- whatever degree of hatefullness is worse, I'm just not clear. Thrashing, screaming, fat alligator tears- "Shi(r)t NO! Off take off take off pweeze mommy no shi(r)t!!!! Bad mommy! Go AWAY!!" So I took it off, but that had just set us up for a wacky morning. The whole ensemble looked ridiculous without the hoodie, but he wouldn't let me change it up. Made it into the car only five minutes behind, but then realized I had no wallet. This resulted in no trip to get donut holes for my sweet toddler. Snort. Sweet. Hmmm. Sadly, as we passed it, he realized this and seriously lost his shit. DOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHNUTTTTZZZ!!!! Pwease! Pwease" Me good! PWEAZE!" It was heartbreaking. Not quite as upsetting as the I-have-cried-so-hard-over-donuts-and-am-bereft vomit that spewed forth into my hair and ear as we tried to get into daycare. It wasn't stomach flu, but crying/coughing/mucus misery. IN. MY. HAIR. Cleaned up as best I could, dropped the boy who was suddenly calm- sped home to get cleaned up, dropped munchkins at daycare for all the kids, and still made it to work in time for first period! Oh, but it was ugly. I'm still convinced that I can smell it. I know it's gone, but it's that perpetual condition of mommy-hood where you always smell puke or poop.

 It's like super sonic go go gadget sense of smell, which I could do without. 

Pretty darn low

So I just can't get over this, and must vent publicly. I have been taking Shrimp to lots of appointments to figure out what is going on with his kidney- thankfully, at this point, it looks like not a whole hell of a lot, which is awesome. I want my kids' major organ systems to be dull, boring, and have a strong work ethic. No excitement, thankyouverymuch. We got referred to a major, well known hospital that specializes in children. Not naming names, obviously. Awesome doctors- some amazing nurses, receptionists and the like. The valet? Not so much. The first time we were there our appointment stretched on for hours. When the doc is on rounds you can't do much about it. You know he is meeting with families with far sicker kids than we have. Just like the hour and a half wait at ultrasound- it took forever because emergency cases were coming in. Most of the people waiting were hot and bothered and I sort of wanted to smack them. Really? Little kids are so sick they need emergency ultrasounds? How about you thank your lucky stars that y'all can sit around and wait? It irritated me to no end. So when you FINALLY get to leave you're pretty excited- this hospital is hopping and the valet is probably the busiest place around, given the large amounts of loading and unloading of strollers, wheelchairs, and the like. I get that. Waiting forty five minutes for my car to be driven around the block? REALLY? I could have driven all the way back home in that amount of time. The garage was a block away. Throngs of furious people just wanted to go walk and get their cars, but they wouldn't let us. GRRR. OK, that was just once. These things happen (apparently there was construction- but still, I could have walked around that block twenty times in the time it took for my car to get driven up, and I'm quite slow). Second visit, the one with the interminable ultrasound wait, was pretty great as we got superb news and I'm walking on sunshine all the way out. My car came up quickly, I tipped the guy $5 bucks because I am literally oozing rainbows. Until I realize that the valet guy, or someone else who had access, because maybe it's wasn't the same guy who brought my car, stole my Dunkin' gift card. I remembered to lock my GPS in the glove box, but the little gift card tucked in my console didn't even occur to me. I used it on the way to the hospital (remaining balance about $15), and just stuck it back in it's home. When I reached for it after leaving to pay for my celebratory turbo shot, I came up empty.

Stealing is wrong. We all know that. I do feel bad for Jean Valjean in Les Miserables as he's just trying to feed his family. I'm a sucker for someone who is hungry. I cook for my students regularly Sunday nights because they come in famished from a weekend of less than adequate nutrition. My husband brings home extras from his restaurant for them too. I have one student who actually takes some food home for his mom. The only reason I know is because the mom told me- he's pretty slick about it. I started accidentally bringing some extra in tupperware that he can just "finish later". Still, if you are that hungry that you are resorting to stealing, there are services that can help. Get help. Don't steal. Screw pride, take pride in providing for your family by asking for help. I digress- stealing from a hospital valet service seems pretty smarmy to me. It's the kind of thing I would expect more from a nightclub, or hotel. But a hospital? Where families with really, really, really sick kids go to potentially have their lives saved?

It makes stealing caffeine right out from under them even more despicable.

Addicted? Quite possibly.

These days I do daycare drop off- it makes the morning pretty ridiculous- hubs is up and out the door by the latest, 6:30 am. Sometimes the children are awake then, and sometimes not- luckily this morning everyone woke up and got dressed with a minimum of whining and tears. Good thing because there is an OPEN bottle of pinot in the fridge. Not something that would be at all helpful for my career advancement plans. In the car, and away we go. Everything is fine and dandy until I realized that I LEFT MY PHONE AT HOME. This would be no big deal to most people, but I have a serious addiction. Big time. That has been evidenced by the many things I could not do without it. In the span of three hours...

1. Pay bills. I can't pay bills without the app.

2. Email my boss about upcoming sick days. No calendar, so no way to know what days they are.

3. Check on an address I need to mail something to- FB is blocked and I can't access saved messages on it. 

4. Confirm the use of "QIS" in Scrabble for my honors ELA class. Yup, there's an app for that too.

5. Make my shopping list for the grocery store. Oh wait, I can. The Wegman's app will sync with my online account. YAY WEGGIE'S!!!!

6. Re-order the workbooks for third period- they have an app for that too- I just scan the bar code. 

7. Show a co-worker the video of Bubba wearing a box on his head and running into the wall.

Yeah, I'm an addict. I literally feel crippled without it.

Ha.

So a few times over the past few days I have had people tell me I look exhausted. I don't feel particularly tired, but apparently I sure look it. Really, if I had long enough to think about it, I probably could use a nap. Even garnering the time to have that thought seems to escape me. My boys are incredible, don't get me wrong, but wow, so needy! Shrimp is three months old- isn't he able to feed himself yet? I mean, REALLY! Let's rework those milestones- feeds self, dressed self, soothes self, changes diaper- those seem to be far more valuable skills than reaching for inanimate objects or turning his head towards a sound. What good do those things do me? Bubba is another story. While he CAN do things himself he is slam dunk in the middle of a super obstinate phase, where anything reasonable is intrinsically evil and will therefore not be done. Unless, of course, anyone else asks him to do it. Perhaps that's what I really need more than a nap- a total stranger that has only one purpose- to tell Bubba to put on his shoes, and get his jacket. NOT to run down the driveway to get to his girlfriend's house (which is another story completely- I really thought I had more time before THAT phase) and to get in the car when we leave daycare- as opposed to running into the muddy backyard and going down the slide into a puddle. Never mind the sight of me trying to catch him in wobbly work shoes while carrying the bucket. It's pretty ugly. Unless you somehow don't like me (which I think is probably impossible) and then it's HYSTERICAL.

So yeah, you could say I'm exhausted- aren't all moms?

Are we there yet?

That phrase is most commonly associated with long car journeys, but I have totally adopted it as a daily mantra. Are we there yet? Is is Friday yet? Is it vacation yet? I feel a lot like I am stuck on a hamster wheel and everything just keeps spinning. Really, maybe it's time to stop the world, I want to get off! Maternity world was so nice and relaxed- this working thing is making my life completely frenetic. I have to plan a trip to get groceries several days in advance or else it just doesn't happen. I have learned that I can get both children out of the house in about seven minutes, from bed to car. Granted, at least one child is still in their jammies, but I would say that is still a win. Maybe if I stopped oversleeping it wouldn't be as much of a problem! Morning is just SO EARLY. I think that kids should go to school from noon to five instead- then I could spend the morning actually being productive.

Until then, I'm going to stick to "are we there yet"?

Six vs. a half dozen

Mornings suck. Mondays, Tuesdays- it doesn't really matter. Getting both boys fed, dressed, and in the car in time for mommy to get an extra large coffee is a super challenge. Shower? Not most mornings. To do that I'd have to get up at like 3 am or something ridiculous. Bad enough we're up at 5 am. It totally makes me REALLY jealous of stay at home moms, who can leave the house whenever they have scheduled something to leave the house for. That said, I'm guessing they are jealous that I get to drop off the kids and go off for the day to work. There have been a recent slate of articles debating the value of a stay at home mom versus a working mom, and it's all really bullshit. Moms are ALWAYS working. It doesn't matter, moms are totally on call all day long. Even if we're at work the phone could ring and your kid could be puking and you are out the door. It's always on a day that you are dressed up for some meeting or whatever, which totally bites. Hello, dry cleaner. The middle of the night? Yup, on call. There aren't enough hours in the day to split some off for myself. What I wouldn't give for ONE HOUR to sit and sew. Not clean, no laundry, SEW. I've been doing a lot of that recently, and it's pretty fun. I wind up making a lot of stuff for girls. No need for a therapist to interpret that!

I vote that instead of daylight savings time (for how I really feel about daylight savings time,  check this out) we introduce mommy time. One hour a day that exists in an alternate universe so we can't be interrupted.

Mahna mahna...doo doo do doo doo!

I love that Muppets song. The one that gets completely stuck in your head and can't be excised no matter how hard you try. It used to be my text message tone on my phone and my coworkers wanted to throw it against the wall! We had little cute lockers in the staff room and I would shove my purse in there, often forgetting to turn off the ringer. Don't get me wrong, I didn't actually get that many texts, but I got lots and lots and lots of notifications. So "mahna mahna" would go off periodically, and I would get nasty calls on the radio to come turn off my damn phone. These days the songs that haunt me are from shows on Nick Jr., Sprout, and PBS. The Umizoomi theme song is always on repeat in my mind, and if I hear one of the words in daily life, I can't stop- I sing the rest of it. Rather awkward when I'm in the middle of teaching a lesson on capitol punishment. Dinosaur Train, Little Einsteins, and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse are also big favorites. My high schoolers find it pretty funny though when I break into the "Hot Dog" song and dance. I look like an idiot but it's a really snazzy tune. It might be time to start Bubba on School House Rock, however, as I think if I'm going to be stuck singing ridiculous songs all day they may as well tie in with the curriculum!

Uh oh, here's one now..."Conjuction junction, what's your function?".

Totally cramping my style

I love my job. Honestly, I really do. The kids are great and my coworkers are fabulous. The problem is the actual time commitment. Really, it's having to be focused on ONE activity for an entire forty-five minute period. That's longer than a double episode of Little Einsteins, which is a struggle in itself. And it's the WHOLE DAY. I am in the building, working, from 7 am to 2:30 pm, which is actually pretty awesome. I have time to run errands or what not before I have to be at daycare to gather Bubba and Shrimp. What else could anyone ask for?

1. The ability to pop out for lunch whenever I so desire. Weggie's, Il Forno, nothing fancy, just a leisurely lunch with the mamas. Just once a week is fine!

2. Facebook access. I have missed out on a puzzle due solely to my lack of access. Granted, if I had Facebook access, the kids would too, and that would be horrible. OK, I guess my sanity is a fair trade off for said puzzle. It's just tough not knowing everyone's every move. Reading status' (stati? statuses?) is quite entertaining and rather informative. Now I leave work at 2:30 and have no clue what people have been doing, who has had babies, and where the cluster of mamas is congregating, all of which put me at a social disadvantage.

3. Dead weight hanging off my right leg. It's really rather awkward to walk without Bubba hanging on for dear life or the bucket dangling from my arm. I totally walk crooked, as demonstrated by my repeated walking into the walls in the hallway. 

4. Time outs. My brain needs a break after a little while, and I could totally use some quiet time. Alas, there is no "calm down corner" here. I need to invite that super American nanny into my classroom apparently. 

Well, and perhaps a deal where I just get a paycheck for being me, without requiring much of anything in return.

Looking back...

So my first blog post, so long ago, was focused around what I was going to accomplish during my maternity leave. Let's review, shall we?

1. Clean the damn floors. With an actual sponge. On my hands and knees. 

I did this! Several times! By hiring a cleaning lady to do it for me!

2. Have a baby, and take pictures. I've been a delinquent photojournalist recently. (maybe this should be first? No, definitely the floors need to be first!!!)

Well, we got off to a rocky start. We had a surprise section so we didn't have a camera for the delivery. Saved by the iPhone.

3.. Get a head start on Jameson's year one scrapbook.

Didn't happen. Not even close. 

4. Take a nap, at least once.

I did it twice!

5. Break the addiction I have to Wegman's sticky buns.

Complete! It also helps that they stopped making them without nuts...

6. Break my addiction to Wegman's in general. Or not. Really, who is it hurting?

Well, it got worse. Way worse. Like every day. Severals trips a day. Lunch regularly enough that I walk in the door and the cashiers swarm over and snag my baby.

7. Hang out with the mamas that I never get to see because work gets in the way.

Yup! Not as much as I wanted but the holidays were a total cramp in my style. 

8. Organize the pantry- using my handy dandy iPhone of course! (there's an app for that, obviously)

Ha. Even the iPhone doesn't make that fun.

9. Go on a hot date with Miles, to see Sesame Street Live! where I will be subjects to wails of "Melmo!! Melmo!!!!", which sounds suspiciously like "mama" these days. Hmm, one and the same? I guess I need to shave my legs.

Saturday!!!

10. Install the attic flooring, hang pictures in the office, dust the heaters, and other domestic things that I will put off until the LAST day of mat leave.

I did put it off. Until never. My dad did the attic floor and I hung some pictures. The cleaning fairy did the rest.

11. Most importantly, revel in mommyhood.

Oh hell yeah!!!

I also did some unplanned things- ate a lot of pasta at Il Forno with some Rockin' Mamas, ran a few New Mom's Groups, went to Jo-Ann's Fabrics pretty regularly (it's just so close to Wegman's!) and had a cookie swap. Oh yeah, and started a business out of my home. I'd say maternity leave was a win.

When do I get my next one?

11 pm

11 pm is not a time you want to hear the phone ring- ever. It's never good news. Unless you are waiting for a baby to be born, perhaps, but other than that? It sucks. Sickness, illness, death. Those are the reasons people call in the middle of the night. Last night my phone rings at 11 pm. I was so shocked I thought it was the TV of course- dragged my ass out of bed and answered, with both trepidation and annoyance in my voice, surely. It was my pediatrician calling with lab results, because of course, that's when pediatricians get back to you. They were totally beating around the bush too. I finally asked why the were calling so late. Pause. Gulp. Well, Shrimp's potassium level was high. 6.3. That's hyperkalemia which is not a good thing- it indicated renal issues, and can also cause arrhythmia- cardiac involvement. Well shit. The pedi said it could be due to hemolysis, but that the lab was insistent it was an accurate level. Off to the ER we went. In the middle of the night. It was like a merry go round getting out of the house- I have never been so focused in my life. Diaper bag, bottle, snowsuit- I even remembered ointment to help pry off any leads that might get stuck on Shrimp- because nobody likes that just-been-waxed by tape feeling. In the car, out the door. They were waiting for us at the valet stand and away we went. Within 20 minutes of the phone ringing, Shrimp was hooked up to an EKG, which thankfully, showed no signs of cardiac distress. At all! Woo! Then they started a line to get blood, and have access in case the hyperkalemia was still indicated after repeat labs. FYI, if your infant ever needs to get stuck you want Rachel. They pulled her in from somewhere and poof! Line in. Shrimp didn't like that AT ALL. Not the stick part, the holding still of the arm part. Really pissed him off. Good thing we had already passed the EKG! Labs were back lickety split, and amazingly, potassium was 5.2. Totally in the normal range. No hyperkalemia! No cardiac issues! No renal failure! I was thrilled until I looked at my now sleeping Shrimp- all taped and gauzed and EKG'd up. This was not going to be pretty. The doc left and said a nurse would be in to detach him from everything. Yeah right. I'm totally not waiting, and if my kid is going to be miserable, it needs to be me doing it. Thank goodness most ED's are set up the same way so it was easy to find the swabs, gauze, and other things one needs to de-hospitalize a person. A little calendula ointment and a swab, leads off. Shrimp's still asleep. Phew. Pulse ox off the toe. Still asleep. Unwrap the arm with the line in it. Still sleeping. Pull the line, stop the bleeding, still sleeping. Into the snowsuit, back in the carseat, still asleep. The nurse coming in and expressing her displeasure that I did her job, as well as strip the linens? Still asleep. Bend over to kiss him lightly on the nose? You guessed it. Woke right up.

Bottom line? I am never going to be that parent that waits for a nurse to do a mom's job. Oh, and the Dunkin' at the corner of Shrewsbury Street and Plantation closes at midnight. Jerks.

I'm an addict

The term "addiction" gets tossed around a lot, and is totally overused. There are many people in our society who truly have an addiction that impacts their lives greatly, and by no means do my snarky comments intend to lessen that. OK, political correctness aside, I'm totally addicted to several things. My hubs thinks I am addicted to coconut cake, but I beg to differ. I like ALL cake. Thus, not an addiction. I can function without it. However, other things, not so much.

- Flannel is a recent obsession of mine. I even bought some today WITHOUT A COUPON.
- Words With Friends- even when I get my ass handed to me by some of these crazy smart mamas. Shrimp has been sleeping pretty well of late, and as a result, no middle of the night feedings, and I have to say, my game play is suffering. I'm not quite ready to set an alarm to wake me up to take my turn, but it might come to that.
- Pretending to be a doctor. I can't stop reading medScape. I just read a scintillating article of the correlation between gestational diabetes and ADHD. My children are doomed. Granted, they did say that socio-economic status was the third piece of that. I even take the mini-quizzes to see how I do. I really can't stop either. Nobody really cares about the synovial bursal sac, but that's what I'm reading when I should be asleep.
- Facebook, obviously. I don't even need to elaborate.
- Wegman's. Duh.

I wish I could get addicted to better things, like scrubbing my grout with a toothbrush and Bac-Out, or exercising. Even cooking on a regular basis. You know, healthy, normal activities.

Sadly, there just isn't time. I think it's my turn in WWF.

What am I doing?

Not so much. Especially not on New Year's Eve. When I was younger it was pretty cool, although I can count on one hand how many times I went to parties. There was an awesome party at my neighbor's house every New Year's Eve, but I think I only went once- their daughter remains my oldest and dearest friend (she even had her daughter the day before Shrimp!) and the kids' always got to invite their friends over too. It was a lot of fun, but I was typically in Florida for New Years. Not a bad deal, not at all! I spent NYE 2000 on the beach at Lauderdale-by-the-Sea with all of my family (all seven of us!), 2001 went to a goofy all inclusive party down on Las Olas where we were the youngest people by about fifteen years, and I remember being in the pool with Jib the elder at midnight- perhaps 1994? 1993? It was the Doubletree then, now it's something else. It was the last year we stayed off property. Now, NYE is much more about seeing friends I don't get to see as often as I like. NYE 2009 two of my closest friends came up and we hung out in another buddy's basement. Good times, I tell you. That's as exciting as it gets around here. Last night the most raucous thing that happened was Kathy Griffin disrobing in front of Anderson Cooper on CNN's coverage of Times Square. Wooo let the party begin! It was a great night though- a wonderful bottle of wine, a dear friend, and super yummy appetizers. Until about 11:20 pm when Bubba woke up with a vengeance. Screaming, hollering, the whole shtick. That went on until about 1 am, and then occurred periodically the rest of the night. It was pretty ugly. Up for the day at 5:45. Happy Freaking New Year. At least I didn't fail at any of my resolutions today, because I just don't bother. Resolutions were probably invented by a group of clinicians many years ago to ensure continued clientele. Why should I avow to do something to better my life, when I screw it up pretty quickly? How does that affect your psyche? Not in a good way. Off to the therapist! Bottom line, we're all just hanging on my the skin of our teeth- especially to our sanity. One week without daycare and I'm ready to check myself into one of those old school sanatoriums where you drink sulfur water and breathe deeply as exercise, like in the olden days. Not the kind where they strap you to a gurney and forget about you for a few days. The nice kind, with croquet and cards, and perhaps a good meal or two. I survived 2011- lots of highlights of course, but like any good hair colorist knows, you needs some lowlights to make the blonde shine brighter! Like it or not, 2012 is here, and we'd all better buckle our seatbelts, because here we go!

Unless someone can figure out how to release the lap bars, so I can get off.