Be Thankful

     
Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. I love to food and being with family and giving thanks for the so many blessings that we have in our lives. This Thanksgiving will always live in our memories as one where we were reminded to be extra thankful.

My youngest daughter got really sick this week. It started on Sunday at dinner, she was complaining that her belly hurt. I told her to eat some dinner, that she was probably hungry and then she would feel better. She barely ate two bites but was not terribly uncomfortable. We went to church afterwards, and then came back and she took a shower and went to bed. She woke up a few hours later with horrible stomach pain. Oh no, I thought, We've got the stomach bug. She was up all night tossing and turning, punctuated with 15 minutes of sleep. I was rubbing her belly, she took some hot showers, I was trying to get her to eat or drink. Still the vomiting and diarrhea never came. She finally settled into sleep at 5am. I felt like a zombie. I got up and helped get my 9 year old ready for school and emailed my little one's teacher that she would be home. I had a ton of work to do so I fixed a cup of coffee and pulled out my laptop started early. My daughter was not asleep long, however. I got her up - fixed her some food, which she ate a fair amount of. She laid on the couch and took cat naps for the next few hours. She would wake up with stomach pain and being the bad mom that I am told her to go sit on the toilet. Around lunch time, she was getting very uncomfortable. Still no vomiting, still no diarrhea, and no fever. I thought that maybe she had a UTI. I decided I would take her to the doctor. They would prescribe us something and we would be on our way. I called the pediatrician who couldn't see her until 4 pm so I just took her to urgent care.

When we get there, they check us in, told me I owed them a few hundred dollars from the last visit that I had to pay, and then brought her back. Did a urine test. The doctor came in and examined her and said her urine looked good and if it was his daughter, he would take her to the children's hospital downtown for an ultrasound. He told me he'd call ahead that I was coming. I felt terrible because the whole time I was like, "Yeah, you're not that sick. Go poop." Bad Mom Award.

So we get down to the ER there, they take her back and examine her and they want to run a few tests and take some blood work. She was still very uncomfortable but not in severe pain like before, so that was good. They put on a movie for her and they have dog therapy there so a dog came to visit her and she pet the dog and that cheered her up a bit. She was just not well. She just laid in bed like a puddle. So after an ultrasound and x-ray and blood work, they ruled out life threatening illnesses that could be causing the abdominal pain. They gave directions for managing her at home and told us to follow up with the pediatrician in the morning. We were walking out 6 hours later. Well, I was carrying her out. She was funny because when we left the hospital it was dark and exasperated she said, "Mama, I wasted my whole day!" When we got home we fixed her food that she only ate 3 bites of, even though she was complaining that she was hungry. She took a hot shower and went to bed. That didn't last long. We had another night of tossing and turning and belly rubbing and getting up for hot showers. First thing in the morning, I made an appointment with the pediatrician and on we went.

At the office, she was miserable. When the pediatrician came in she was laying on the exam table with her knees pulled to her chest. She was rocking and moaning in pain and she looked exhausted. I was becoming more and more distressed because nothing was helping. The OTC medicine was doing nothing for her. The pediatrician looked disturbed and she examined her and left the room abruptly. My baby crawled into my lap and just laid silently. The doctor came back in and said that she was sending us back to the hospital, to which my 7 year old responded unhappily, "But that's going to waste my whole day!" As if she had other plans, like she was going to go riding bikes in the condition that she was in.

So off we went again. They were expecting us and took her right back. We saw another doctor and she talked about what they had done the day before and what their thoughts were about what could be causing her belly pain. Which was  - We really don't know. Which is always less than reassuring. A little while later the doctor came back in and asked, "Does your daughter have high blood pressure?" Ummm....no, she is a 45 pound 7 year. "Her blood pressure is really high. We are going to take it when she is feeling comfortable to make sure that the reading earlier was correct." So they came in and took her blood pressure in both arms and legs with the machine. It was in the 130s over 90s every time. Then they came in and took it manually. This was the only part of the visit my daughter enjoyed. She LOVES having her blood pressure taken. Every time we are at Publix or a pharmacy she makes me take her to the BP machine and she sits on the bench and pushes the button and she sits there while it does it's thing. It's meant for adults, but she doesn't care. She loves it. A few weeks ago Publix got a new machine and you have to pay .50 now to use it. She was PISSED. She stood in front of the machine with a look of disbelief and then turned to me with her hand on her hip and said, "Mom, these people are greedy!"

They did an EKG after taking her blood pressure a million times. A little while later the doctor came in and told us that they were going to admit her to the children's hospital because her blood pressure was so high, even when she was comfortable and they didn't feel comfortable sending her home without figuring out what was causing it. Plus, they were going to try to manage her pain. So I called my husband and told him to pack overnight bags and head to the hospital. My younger sister showed up and when my husband and daughter arrived, she took my 9 year old back to the house so my husband and I could both stay. We were so thankful for that.

They moved us into her room in the children's hospital and my little one was just exhausted and was so bummed to have to stay there. You could see it in her eyes. She asked to take a hot bath, she was still having some belly pain. I wrapped her IV and filled up the tub and she floated in there. I sat next to the tub and gently pulled her leads off and rubbed the goo from her tummy and chest. She spoke to me quietly. "Mama, I am so sad because I did not go to school and I missed art and now I won't see my teacher for a whole week. I want to go home." So we talked about why she had to be there. We got her PJs on and got her into bed. We endured another rough night. They didn't want to give her narcotics because they can cause constipation and she already had belly pain but the medicine they gave was not helping. Finally they have her something that made her belly pain decrease and she slept for a bit. They came in and took her blood pressure while she was sleeping and it was still very high.

The next morning the doctor came in and I was on day 3 of no sleep. I had a mini-breakdown and begged him to make her comfortable. They were concerned about her kidneys because of her high blood pressure so they did an ultrasound to look at her kidneys, arteries, and aorta. They did an echo. I have seen all of her internal organs this week. They all were fine. Thank goodness. The medicine they were giving was really helping her stomach pain and for the first time in days, she told me she wanted to play. There is a place in the children's hospital that is like a huge game room and it's open at different hours throughout the day, so I took her there. There were easels and a craft table, air hockey and pool, a library, dolls houses and toys. For the first time in days she smiled. She hated having her IV wheeled around with her but most of the other kids there had IVs too. There were kids that were really sick. Kids with cancer. Worried, tired parents. It broke your heart. She painted and played with the dollhouse and we read stories. They let you check out board games, books, toys and movies to your room so she was happy about that.

We went back to the room and we were hoping since her pain was gone they might discharge us in the evening but even though she had no pain, her BP was still really high. The doctor told us he was going to start her on blood pressure meds but they wanted to monitor her BP over night. She was so devastated, "But tomorrow is Thanksgiving." He told her that he would try to have her home in time for turkey. We decided that I would stay the night and my husband would go home with our older daughter. They unhooked my baby's IV and were going to let her take everything by mouth. She was glad about that. She ate dinner and took a shower and then we went back to the game room for a while. While we were playing, my dad showed up unexpectedly and that made her so happy. She played and visited for a while and we shut the place down. They were closing up for the night and she picked another movie. We headed back and after my father left we settled in and she fell right asleep. The soundest sleep she's had for quite a few days. I made my bed on the couch next to her and fell asleep. I was awaken a short while later to a hand rubbing my face. I opened my eyes and there was my little one standing in front of me. "Mama, will you come lay with me and make me feel safe?" So we curled up together in her little hospital bed and slept like logs. They came in and took her blood pressure over night and it was returning to normal. The medicine was working. I was so glad.

The next morning we had breakfast and watched the Thanksgiving Day parade. My husband and 9 year old came and we they said we could go home. We left the hospital around noon. When we walked out it was so chilly but the sun on my face and fresh air felt so good. My little one was happy. A few hours later we were with my sisters enjoying a delicious Thanksgiving feast. I was thankful for so many things. But most of all, the children.

Throwing Mom Under the Bus

                   
I came home from work Thursday and sat down with the kids and we chatted until it has time to do homework. My 9 year old had to write a narrative and I had to proof read it. She has this book for school and the teacher gives them a subject to write on and they write an experience that happened to them. Well the subject given for this assignment was to tell about a time there were scared. I opened the composition book and see the title, "Halloween in the Swamp." NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! The haunted trail strikes again.

So I proofed this story and it talked about how her mom took her to the haunted swamp and how she felt like a "victim" - yeah, she said victim. How her sister screamed, "I think we're going to die." Overall, how traumatizing it was. I was reading it thinking that her teacher is going to think I am the absolute worst mom ever. So then I started reading other entries in this journal. It started off about her life and she wrote about how much she loves her mom and dad and there are stories about the summer and stories about the fun things we do, about her friends. Peppered in are some stories that feature our questionable parenting. Like how we didn't realize her hampster was dead for two days and how he died inside his tube and was bloated and couldn't be removed and so had to be disposed of inside the tube. Horrible. Then she did another story about being scared  - the time when she watched the Conjuring trailer with my husband. Just the trailer. Then she wrote, "I have watched a lot of horror movies." Holy hell - her teacher is going to think we are inappropriate axe wielding maniacs. She's going to think I let my kids watch Texas Chainsaw massacre and Saw and Jason. Or worse, IT. I confronted her on that one. "What do you mean you've watched a lot of horror movies,- you have not." She was insistent. "Yes I have." So I had her name them. "Carrie, Sleepy Hollow, Signs, Adams Family, Little Shop of Horrors, Killer Klowns from Outer Space....." I didn't tell her that her list of "horror" movies was slightly lame.

No conversation is complete without the commentary of my 7 year old - she rolled her eyes, "Killer Klowns from Outer Space is not scary. I love that movie." She really does, she's a weirdo. "Mama, I like that movie but I hate clowns. They are creepy. I really hate the McDonald's clown. He's creepy and he might kidnap children." Ronald McDonald - kidnapping kids since 1954.

Get a Job

                             
Kids are expensive. There is no way around it. They need to be fed and clothed. They need to participate in things. They are just expensive. Which would be okay, if they were a little considerate about it. But their not. They pretty much do not care. I was so tired of it this weekend. I had enough.

My 9 year old daughter had to sing at this community event on Saturday and a note came home from the teacher that said the kids needed to wear jeans, and a red,white and blue top. We were getting ready and she walks out in black tights and a red, white and blue top. I said, "Your teacher said that you have to wear jeans." "I don't have jeans." We both knew damn well that she has jeans. "You have like, 20 pairs of jeans." "No I don't." So I went into her room and I counted them. She has 9 pairs of jeans. Which is really, ridiculous. No one needs that many jeans. I don't know how or why she has so many. "I hate them all." "Why?" "They are loose around the waist." "You are skinny, wear a belt." So she put on these jeans and put on a belt and she looked fantastic. She didn't smile at all, she glared at me. "Don't look at me," she spewed. Whatever. I am not going out to buy new jeans just because you don't like to wear a belt.

And then there is the lights. It is a constant struggle to get the kids to turn the lights off. It was Saturday evening and I was in bed and my 9 year old went in her room. I yelled to her, "Turn your light off..." I work up in the morning and that light was on ALL.NIGHT.LONG. What the heck. I said to her, "What do you think? Electricity is free?" Do you know what she said to me? "It's free to me." What did you just say?
                                 
I'm going to start making the kids owe me a chore every time they leave the lights on.

Then there is the coats. I purchased new winter coats for the kids last year. They still look great. They still fit. They are clean and in style and my kids refuse to wear them. They wanted peacoats. AHHHHH. I am tired of them always acting like they need new stuff. I was complaining to my husband and he was like, "You're right. You know the reason I brought those boots was because W told me she had no shoes." I shook my head. "Don't ever trust the kids when it comes to them wanting you to buy them something. They are liars."

Only 6 and 8 more years until they can get jobs - the countdown has commenced.

Dad of Girls

                                 
My poor, poor husband. He is surrounded by ladies. He's a great sport about it. He is such a good dad to girls. Which is surprising, because he didn't have sisters. Growing up, he lived in a house dominated by men.

But he is fully a dad to girls. He embraces it and does a good job. This was very apparent this week. On Monday, he came home and we sat down for dinner and we were chatting and he went of on this tangent. He pointed his finger at my 9 year old. "YOU -you need to not take your bra off in my car after school." That's her thing. As soon as you pick her up - the arms go in the sleeves and the bra comes off. She's my child. "Today, a co-worker and I decided to go out to lunch and I drove. And guess what? There was a kid bra on the floor of my passenger side and he was like 'Dude, why do you have this in here?' And then he looked at me like I was a weirdo. And I tried to explain that you take it off after school on the way home and then he looked at me like I was an even bigger weirdo. That explanation didn't help at all." We HOWLED with laughter. I could just picture the interaction in my head. I reassured him, "You would only be a weirdo if you had chocolate bars and missing puppy dog flyers to go along with it." He shook his head and then went on another tangent, "AND you guys need to stop leaving your shoes in my car. You forget about them and they bake and now my car smells horrible, like stinky feet. When I drove the guys up to Carowinds they probably thought I pooped my pants." We fell out with laughter a second time. "Honey, I think the moral of the story is to not offer to drive anyone anywhere." Yes, he has girls.

A few weeks ago he took the girls to get their haircut. It was Halloween costume crunch time so I stayed behind to finish. When the kids came home, my curly headed 7 year old had a perfectly straight bob. She always wants her hair to be straight so she was so happy. My husband said, "I was watching how they did it - it was so cool. She really likes it." "They blew it out with the hair dryer?" "Yes!" That night he went to the store to get something, but came back with a ceramic round brush. "Now you can do it for her." So I started blowing out her hair in the morning. One morning he said, "You need to show me how to do this, because I am going to need to be able to do it when you are away for work." He stood and watched me. Fast forward to yesterday morning, he brought the brush and hairdryer downstairs and I am watching him blow out her hair while I ate breakfast. It was so funny to watch - because my husband is a big, burly guy. He is not effeminate at all. He was in his slacks and button up shirt and he is leaned over our little second grader, blowing out her hair. He turned the brush with a quick flick of the wrist while moving the hairdryer back and forth. "Cover your ears, so they don't get hot." Her hands went up and he continued to finish. Afterwards, he set down the hairdryer and the brush and had her face him. He surveyed his work. Made some adjustments with the brush. "It's perfect." The both came to the table to eat and I was grinning at him. "I never knew that you had another career planned as a hair dresser." He scowled, "Shut up, it makes her happy."

He has girls and they have him wrapped around his finger. I saw this yet again this week. I came home from a work trip and as soon as I stepped through the door, my little one jumped into me. "Guess what daddy brought me, mama?" He always gets the girls something when I am away. Which would be okay if it wasn't always so damn expensive. She ran off and came back holding a pair of boots. These boots:
                             
Wow - they are a little much for me. They are white- which is a terrible idea for shoes for a 7 year old. They look like they need blades on the bottom of them for the icecapades. I went to my husband and said, "What's up with the Russian hooker boots?" He smiled, "They aren't hooker boots. Look, they're cute. She fell in love with them. She gave me big eyes. I had to buy them." It's no wonder they prefer their father to me. He is such a sucker for their manipulative ways. They are daddy's girls and I don't think he would want it any other way.

Be All That You Can Be

                                        
Yesterday was Veteran's Day. The morning was typical but on the way to school my 4th grader asked about all the veterans we knew. We were making a list. All of my brothers, my grandfather, friends, and of course my husband. My daughter said, "Tell us about when dad was in the ARMY." I forget that the kids don't realize what that even means, that he was in the military. We don't talk about it very often. I love to reminisce, that's my favorite thing. So I regaled them with funny stories about when their dad was in the Army.

I didn't grow up around the military. I didn't even know anyone who was in the military besides my grandfather who was in the Korean War which seemed like it was 200 years ago. When I got married, I was a little girl from New Jersey. I was a 95 pound, 18 year old, baby faced girl who moved to this Army Fort in Oklahoma. It was like a different world. We lived in this 350 square foot apartment off base. A few days after we moved in I kept hearing this BOOM, BOOM, BOOM and the whole place would shake. You could hear the window panes shaking. "What the hell was that?" My husband was not fazed at all, "It's just artillery." Where we were stationed is where this did all of the artillery training so it constantly sounded like we were being bombed. You could hear artillery at all hours of the day and night. It just became part of the background noise eventually.

The first time I went on base alone was a disaster. I was trying to find the commissary but made a wrong turn. I wound up in this dirt road and came across a sign that basically said, DANGER- if you go past this point you may be killed by artillery. I was scared. Very afraid. I turned our 1995 electric blue Cutlass Supreme around as fast as I could. I also discovered Howitzer Crossing street signs. I never realized that tanks required street signs before my husband was in the Army. We had a kevlar closet back then as well. A space in our tiny apartment dedicated to his kevlar helmet, rucksack, canteen and anything else he would need if he was deployed. He would sit and shine his boots in the evening while he watcedh television and I did school work. That's what our life was. It was this whole culture that I never knew existed.

Then we talked about the war. In a way that they could understand. I told them that we have been involved in war since before they were even born. I remember the day so vividly when the US invaded the middle east. I was in college and there had been rumblings about military involvement for a few months. Everyone at the university was linked to the military somehow - through parents or spouses. Some of the units had been gearing up for deployment. It was a sunny day in March and I was coming from class and went into the student union. There was not the usual hustle and bustle. I walked through and in the corner of the main area there were a few students gathered around the television, watching the invasion. I joined them, and as the minutes passed - more and more students did as well. Soon, there was a crowd of us - gathered around this small TV and no one said a word. It was completely silent, except for the booms coming from the television. It affected all of us personally. I could feel my heart drop into my stomach.

That night we laid in bed and I was asking my husband a million different questions and he was trying to reassure me that his unit was not going to deploy and that his MOS was not one that would be on the front line but that it is always a possibility. I said to him, "But what if they make you go?" He didn't hesitate, "Then I would go." "But you could die." I'm subtle. "I know that." "So, you're okay with that?" He looked at me as if I didn't understand. "That's what I signed up for." I saw him differently then. I was angry at him in a way. That he could just accept that he could be sent overseas to war. I knew that he was stronger and braver and a much better, more noble person than I could ever be. All service members are.

We were lucky and he never was deployed. He spent all of time in the Army in Oklahoma. The day he left the military, he was so excited. He was ready not to have to shine his boots everyday. He had to sign out of the ARMY at midnight.  But only after a week of taking the tour of Fort Sill for out processing, to visit every area to have his paperwork signed off on and his kevlar returned, of course. He put on his dress greens and on we went. He went inside and signed his papers releasing him and the service member thanked him for his service. We walked out of the building and went to start the car and the car would not start. That damn Olds Cutlass. He called one his Army buddies and while we waited for him to come rescue us we turned on the radio. We danced under the stars that summer night. Cheek to cheek with my former soldier in his dress greens, next to our dead Oldsmobile. We were happier than ever.

The kids liked that story.

That night, I was making dinner and waiting for my husband to get home from work. My 7 year old walked in the kitchen and said, "Mama, where is my veteran?" "You mean your dad?" She smiled at me, "Yes, but he is my veteran today." So sweet. We love our veteran and all the veterans. Happy Belated Veteran's Day!

House Devils

                       

Yesterday morning was not good. It was not good at all. It started off okay. The kids woke up early, we were getting ready for school. All was well. Until 6:45 am when my 9 year old decided that she needed to take a shower. "Mom, I'm taking a shower." I looked at her like she was crazy, "We need to be WALKING out the door in 15 minutes." "I'll just we 2 minutes." She never is just 2 minutes. "No, get dressed. If you wanted to take a shower you should have done that half an hour ago." After those words left my mouth my daughter became possessed by a demon. She threw her hands in the air and shrieked at me, "Are you saying you want me be be dirty? Is that what you want? YOU want your own daughter to be the dirty kid at school?" I looked at her like she was crazy, "No, I want you to get to school on time. Get dressed. You need to be downstairs and ready for breakfast in 10 minutes." I went downstairs to make breakfast and what do you know? I hear the water on upstairs. Oh no she didn't. I went up the stairs and yelled through the door that she was a disrespectful child and that she better get out and get dressed now. I was PISSED at her. I told her clearly not to get in the shower. I went back downstairs to finish what I was doing and it's now 5 minutes before we have to leave and she still has not come downstairs. I go upstairs yet again and she is in her bedroom - with the door open - getting dressed. I pop my head in and said (not yelled), "We need to leave very soon, hurry up." She turned to me with a look of pure range and screamed, "CAN YOU GIVE ME SOME PRIVACY!?!?" Then she stomped over and slammed the door in my face. What.the.hell. I expected her to spit acid and her head to spin around. SHE was the one changing with the door open, that's not my fault. I decided that I was not going to argue with her and yell anymore. I didn't have it in me. I spoke through the crack of the door, "I am leaving in approximately 3 minutes - with or without you." Good. I would have left her and then her father would have to take her to school and she does not want his wrath. He'll give you a look alone that will scare the pants off of someone.

I was almost at the bottom step when I heard her at the top of the stairs - she was sobbing, "Don't leave me, mama. Please don't leave without me." "You have 3 minutes." What do you know after 3 minutes, she still wasn't ready to go. I was done. I began to walk out the door. "I'm leaving." I yelled up the stairs. She started down the stairs looking all angry and dejected. "I need to brush my hair." "You can brush it in the car." She gave me a dirty look. We got in the car and I was so glad because she was in the back seat and I didn't have to deal with her. She just kept running her mouth. "You are so mean. You never let me take a shower..." Wait...what? I turned up the radio. "No one talk the rest of the time."

I pulled through the loop and before the kids got out of the car, I turned to her and said, "I love you, I hope you have a good day and feel better." She locked eyes with mine and said nothing. Et tu?

I drove home and it was only 7:30 am and all I wanted to do was wrap myself in a blanket and drink a bottle of wine. But I didn't, I sat down at my desk to do some work. A little while later my phone rang, I didn't get to it in time. I checked my voicemail and it was the assistant principal at the the school. "Hello, Mrs. B - this is Mrs. T at the Elementary school. I have your daughter, C here in my office......" Oh my God. I thought that she must have had a nervous breakdown after I dropped her off at school. I felt panicked for a moment. The message continued, "She is here with us.....because she just won a High Five Award for excellent behavior. We give this award to children who are well behaved and always do what they are supposed to do. We are so proud of her and so glad to have her here at the school." I laughed out loud because it was ironic. I immediately felt bad for yelling at her. She does try hard, my sweet girl. I decided that I would bring her lunch as a peace offering.

When I was at the school, I ran into a lady that I am friends with who is a substitute teacher. She was waiting for the kids to get out of music class, so we chatted in the hall for a minute. "You have my little one today and you had my 4th grader yesterday." She smiled. "I have got to tell you that you have the most fantastic children. They are so sweet and well behaved." Then she said this - I swear to you, "If all children were as well-behaved and cooperative as yours, the world would be a better place." What? Who are this children? Are they replaced with aliens as soon as they walk through the school doors? I was gracious and thanked her and said that they are very sweet and we are very blessed.

I made my way to the cafeteria and she was sitting there with her friends. "I brought you a happy meal. I heard about your award. I'm proud of you for always being good at school. We need to work on the mornings." She smiled at me and nodded and she even hugged me - in front of her friends. Score for mom. "I love you, mama." I kissed her little head. I visited for a few minutes but had lots to do.

As I was walking out of the school, I ran into another acquaintance who was walking in with her 4th grade son. I have known this little boy since he was 4 years old, he was in preschool with my daughter. He's getting so darn big. His mother and I chatted for a moment. "Can you believe that I had to come pick him up? He wore cologne to school and his teacher is allergic. I had to take him home, bathe him and get him redressed." I turned to him, "You wore cologne? It must be important to smell good, huh?" He gave me a sheepish grin.

These 4th graders - they drive their parents crazy.

Fun at the Ren Faire

                                  
This past weekend we went to the Renaissance Fair. We had been planning the trip for a few months. We went to one 7 years ago when we lived in Indiana and were amazed at how funny and nerdy it was. We are kind of nerdy and the kids are at a good age to go so we planned a trip to Charlotte to the Ren Fair. It was supposed to be just us but when we were taking about it at family dinner my dad invited himself and then my 22 year old sister invited herself so it turned into a group event. We decided that if we were going to go - we were going to be nerdy so we all planned to dress up. I was in charge of the costumes. So funny. We left Saturday morning, my kids in their Halloween costumes, my husband and dad dressed like peasants, I was in a broomstick skirt and corset and my sister was a pirate wench. We were like a nerd caravan. Who cares? We were going to be 3 hours away - we wouldn't know anyone there.

I was so excited when we got there. It was amazing. The kids were in awe. It was a whole village in the middle of no where. Everywhere we turned, something magical was happening. There was a fairy, sitting on a rock, playing a wooden flute. There were fiddlers and acrobats and jugglers. There were people dressed up like kings and queens eating turkey legs. They had all kinds of rides and shows. We saw belly dancers and hypnotists. We saw jousting. We were entertained.

We sat down for a sword swallowing show. Oh my goodness. That was the most disgusting thing I have ever saw. It grossed me out. At the end this man swallowed a long balloon. I was completely horrified. The kids loved it. My sister turned to me and said, "He probably writes tips for Cosmo magazine."  She's so funny and inappropriate.

What do you know? We did run into friends of ours. So our dorkiness did not go unnoticed. Of course. We stayed until it closed and we had to walk through the workers to leave and they sang a song to us and we were like geek celebrities. We vowed to come again next year.

I booked us a hotel room since we were so far from home and when we checked in, they handed us the keys. We were on the top floor, 11 stories up. Uggh - I am so afraid of heights. Here was the view from the top:
                  
Holy hell. Of course when we got to the top my 7 year old wanted to stand at the railing and look down. I was walking against the wall like the Pink Panther. "Get away from there." She laughed at me. I hated it. We did have a beautiful view though. We looked out at all the beautiful foliage. It was picturesque.

We had drinks, got dinner and relaxed;  it was so nice. The next day we took the kids swimming in the hotel pool. Our eyes bled because the there was so much chlorine in the air. Then we had lunch and spent the afternoon playing games at Dave and Busters. It was such a fun time. Oh - but all good things come to an end. I wish weekends away could last forever.

We love weekend trips and will keep busy planning the next one. There is Comicon in December, but I think we might go for something a little less nerdy. Maybe next year, that gives me enough time to find a sexy Spiderman costume.

Sometimes I'm Annoyed

                  
I need to vent. Last week, I was very annoyed. I wasn't annoyed by everything. Just people in the service industry that I happened to come in contact with. Let me tell you about some of these people.

There is a cashier at the Dollar Tree that hates me. Truly. I do not understand why. I frequent the Dollar Store on a weekly basis and he has worked there for 2 years and he is HATEFUL to me. He shoots daggers at me and looks at me with disgust whenever I go in there. So much so that I avoid going in there when he works. He always works day shift during the week. Whenever I go to check out he doesn't say "hello" or "have a nice day" or anything. He doesn't smile. I used to think that it's just the way he is. That he is grumpy and mean to everyone. Until one day I was waiting in his line and there was a lady in front of me. He smiled at her "How are you today?" He rung her up, chatted with her and then waved to her, "Have a nice day." Then he turned to the next customer and when he saw it was me his smile faded and he began to ring up my things in his usual mean way. "That will be $13.42." Then he reluctantly handed me my bag and was silent. I have never been mean to the Dollar Store man, I don't understand. I am very annoyed by it. Sometimes he won't be there for a period of time and I will get excited and think he got a new job but then, there he is - scowling at me from behind the register. I had to see him this week and it made me mad. One day, I am going to confront him. Not this week. Now, the guy at Moe's - that's a different story.

Last Wednesday was a long day for me. A 13 hour day. I was on my way home at 8 pm and I called my husband who had not made dinner. I was tired, I hadn't eaten anything since 9 am, I was in a horribly uncomfortable pant suit, I was having this horrible lower back pain and was just all around feeling horrible. I stopped at Moe's for dinner on my way home and I was just exhausted. I dragged myself into Moe's and no one was in there. I was so glad. I just wanted to get my food and get out. I go up to the counter and there is a new guy I didn't know. "Welcome to Moes, what can I get you?" "Can I get an earmuff?" He grinned and said, "We're all out of those." Oh, a smart alec. I was not in the mood to play his games. "Please, just make me the food." He asked if I wanted rice. "Yes, just a little." He smiled, "You mean a lot?" My blood began to boil. "No, a little." "What?" Then he was trying to get to me look him in the eye for some reason. I don't know why but I was extremely annoyed. I didn't want to gaze in his eyes or be jovial. I was so tired that I was pretty sure I was melting into the floor. This guy stopped making my food and was like, "What's wrong?" Oh.my.God. You are not Doctor Phil, just make my food. I managed to utter, "I am hungry and I had a long day." Then he had the nerve to say, "Are you depressed or something?" What the hell? I lost my mind. These were my exact words to him, "I am NOT depressed. I am EXHAUSTED, I haven't eaten in 11 hours. I want you to stop playing games with me and make me food. I am going to go home and put on my pajamas and eat this food in my bed like a fat slob. I will probably get corn salsa on my sheets but I am so tired that I won't even clean it off and I will sleep on my corn salsa sheets. I am going to give you money, just please give me my food and don't talk." I said all of that. Out loud. His eyes were really big and he looked at me like I was crazy. "You want everything on it?" I nodded. Then I gave him money and he gave me the food.

I hobbled to my car and a sense of shame swept over me. I wished I hadn't let my crazy out like that in public but he kind of deserved it. I went home and kissed my babies and did eat my food in bed, in my pajamas. I didn't feel ashamed of that at all. I enjoyed it. Every last bite. Corn salsa sheets and all.

Family Pictures

               

We decided to get family pictures done last weekend. You may all know about my disdain for getting photos done because no one in my family cooperates. I was thinking this year would be different. The kids are older and I was thinking that I might make an attempt to send out some nice Christmas cards this year. I know, I'm an overachiever. I booked the photographer but needed to get some new clothes for the girls so I went shopping with my kids, my sister and my niece.

Well, if my kids are bad alone - throw in my 4 year old niece and you have a trifecta of craziness. We were discussing color schemes and the kids would just disappear. They were hiding in the clothing. They are too old for that. My sister and I both yelled in public - feeling no shame or embarrassment. We are 2 peas in a pod. We had to go over to the women's section which is next to the underwear section. My 4 year old niece comes up to me with a green bra around her neck that is like a 42 DDD and says, "I'm a gwown woman." I laughed and laughed. Then she said, "I want to be a gwown woman." I smiled and said, "No you don't, then you're going to have a bunch of kids that make you crazy like me and your mom." She looked at me indignantly and said, "Not uh, I'm only going to have 1 child." Good luck with that. That trip should have been an indication that things would not go well.

The week before picture I was threatening my family. Mostly my husband."You need to smile and be serious. No, you can not wear your Batman tee-shirt." He is awful with pictures. We've been married over 11 years and I only have 5 good pictures of us together. He always sticks his tongue out or puts his finger up my nose. I get it, you're a funny guy but in 100 years our great-grandchildren are going to look at pictures of us and think we're insane. They wouldn't be that far off. I just don't want them to think that.

The day of rolls around and the plan was to get dressed, pick up my 7 year old from a sleepover party, get her dressed and then go to photos. My husband takes a shower and he comes out and he didn't shave his beard or his hair. He always shaves his head. For years, with very short stints of growing it out. He's been shaving it since he was in the military. I love when it's shaved. He looks hot as fire. "Are you going to shave?" He looked at me and said, "No, I;m growing it out." "WHAT? You never grow out your hair. Please can you shave it for the pictures?" "No. I'm growing it out." I lost my damn mind. He is the most stubborn person on the planet and we are in the point in our marriage where he doesn't have to do what I say anymore. We probably hit that mark about 5 years ago. I hate it. I used to ask for the moon and the stars and he would climb a mountain to try to do it. Now he is like, "Get them yourself. I had a hard day." He realizes that nothing happens if he doesn't give in to my wishes, except that I get mad and he doesn't care that much if I'm mad. It's a power struggle. I tried the nice route, "Please will you shave?" "No. I don't have to." I was seething. I was so upset.

Then my 9 year old walks in and I told her I was going to brush her hair and put a little bit of color on her face as she was a little pale and she said, "No. This is my face." We went back and forth and she still said that she wasn't going to do it. That she could do her own hair. "I am half of a grown up." You're 9 - step off. I came toward her with a brush and she screamed, "DON'T TOUCH ME!!!!" It was a mutiny. I was so angry I was seeing red. This was me:
               
We went to the car and I was loosing my mind I was so annoyed. I did what any grown woman who doesn't get her way would do. I sat in the passengers seat with my arms crossed and scowled. We went to pick up my 7 year old. She loves me, she would cooperate. We pull up to the house and out runs my baby with temporary tattoos ALL OVER her face. Not one on her cheek. ALL OVER her face. Her nose, both cheeks, forehead, chin, next to her eyes. Oh, the wrath I felt. "You knew we were getting pictures today." She shrugged her shoulders, "I just wanted to." So I spent the whole way there scrubbing the tattoos off her face and she cried because it hurt.

By the time we got there, I was over it. My husband was annoyed, the kids were annoyed. I knew it was going to be bad but I didn't think I would want to throw myself off a bridge. We did survive it, which was good. My blood pressure went down as the shoot went on. I am not doing family pictures again for another 5 years. It almost killed me.

Trick or Treat

                  
Well, Halloween is over. The day after a holiday is always a little bit of a let down for me. The house is still decorated, there is candy every where but the excitement is gone. It's a little sad. Only 53 days until Christmas. God save me.

This Halloween was a little bit different because we took the neighbors trick or treating with us. They are muslim and don't celebrate Halloween but they were over our house when we were decorating and the kids talk about all the Halloween stuff that we do. They pretty much are at my house every day so they see what our customs and traditions are. They bugged their mom to go trick or treating with us, which I had nothing to do with. They said that their mom said they could go. I was kind of weird about it, because I want to be respectful of their beliefs but I talked to their mother and she was cool with it. She may have wanted the evening to herself. I don't blame her.

So I picked the kids up from school and I put some finishing touches on their costumes. The neighbors showed up and they were BOUNCING of the walls. They were so excited. They are 7 and 11 and have never participated in Halloween or trick or treating - they were stoked. We carved a jack o'lantern. I purchased the pumpkin last weekend and a side of it was soft and when I opened it, I thought it contracted bacterial vaginosis because it smelled awful and was slimy. I carved it anyway and scraped the smelly gunk from the sides. It was gross. I put a scented candle in it so it would neutralize. I worked with what I had.

The neighbors didn't have costumes and I thought I had some but I forgot that half of them got moldy in the garage incident a few months ago and the others I got rid of when I went on a de-cluttering binge. My 9 year old had the idea of cutting out cardboard and making cat ears so they made a black cat outfit. I told the 7 year old to go to her house and get a black dress on and some scarves. We wrapped a red scarf around her head and made a shaw with another and I put some hoop earrings on her and she was a fortune teller. The 4 year old brother asked if he could go along so we put him in a suit jacket and I drew him a mustache and beard.

My dad showed up then. He was going to give out candy. I purchased him a SCREAM mask and he sat on the porch with his mask and played a menacing tune on his violin. We took pictures and on we went. The neighbor's kids were were so funny. They were like, "Oh my goodness! Look at all this candy!" and I was like, "We've only been to 2 houses." No one knew who my kids were except for teenage boys. "Assain's Creed? That is sick." "Oh my God, it's Link." Strangely, there was another little boy in an Assain's Creed outfit and his costume was almost identical to my daughters. I thought that was fun. The neighborhood did not disappoint. There were chainsaws and butcher shops and haunted houses and elaborate displays. It was so awesome.

We hit the pavement for 2 hours. By the end of the night all the kids were complaining that their feet hurt and that they were hot. It was hot as hell. Last year it was freezing, this year it was 80 degrees. The weather here is crazy. We finally finished and headed home. The kids were so funny, "Can we come trick or treating with you next year?" "Sure." "Can we decorate your Christmas tree?" "Yeah.... your going to have to ask your parents about that one."

When we got home my dad was sitting on the porch, looking a little dejected. "What's wrong?" "I only had 10 people." We pulled chairs outside and sat around and waited. The kids came in and out with candy. We got a few more trick or treaters. My dad would get all excited and pull his mask on. He was giving out candy to parents. It was great.

I went inside and the kids were separating and counting their candy. Like little candy bankers. "Can I have some skittles?" My daughter looked at me and looked at the candy and picked up a yellow wrapped piece, "No, but you can have this Oh Henry." That's a stupid name for candy but I still ate it.

That night we laid in bed and my 9 year old said, "Only 365 days until Halloween again." Let the countdown begin.