School's Out

                      

Today is the last day of school for my little ones. I let them sleep a little bit later than usual, which I know they appreciated. I played Alice Cooper's "School's Out" while they got dressed and I jumped around and head banged. They rolled their eyes at me. Yes, today is the day they graduate to the 2nd and 4th grade.

I have been good about this school year ending until yesterday. I picked them up from after-school and their book bags weighed about 100 pounds because they had cleaned out their desks. When we got home they went to play with their friends outside and I collapsed on the couch and began to empty out their book bags. There were old text books, math sheets, art, erasers, loose crayons. They both had writing journals and I sat and read them and laughed and laughed. Here are some of my favorites.

From my 6 year old:

Translation: I help my mom clean up around the house. I be nice to my sister. I help cook for my mom. I not allowed to watch TV on school nights. I ask for this.

This one is sweet because I am holding a cross ornament. The day after my grandfather died I went to this Christmas store at the beach town where he owned a house and purchased this celtic cross ornament that has an irish blessing on it. Every year when I unwrap it I get teary eyes because it reminds me of him. I didn't realize that she paid that much attention.

This is what she wants to have when she grows up. Ha! Ha! She is so cute and funny.

My eight year old did some amazing artwork:

This story made me laugh out loud. Mornings are hard.

So I sat and I sifted and I read and I laughed. I came across a DVD in 8 year old's book bag and it was addressed to her parents. I went upstairs and popped it into the DVD player. Her teacher made this DVD slideshow for us. There were pictures of all of the things they did this year, the trips they took, the science experiments they performed. It was set to sentimental music of course. I saw pictures of my little girl with her friends, curled up in the corner reading, sitting at her desk smiling. Then this Darius Rucker song "It Won't Be Like This for Long" came on. Oh man. Her teacher had taken pictures of the kids at the start of the year and the end of the year. It was so neat to see the kids little and then how much they changed. Then she took pictures of the kids with a sign showing what they wanted to be when they grow up. Some wanted to be in the military, others teachers and doctors. Then it flashed to my little girl. She had a half smile and held a sign that read "Artist". Of course. As the music faded out, a picture of the entire class came on the screen and underneath it said "Class of 2022." I pretty much lost it. I was a bucket of tears. I sat at that desk and sobbed for a good five minutes. My daughter came in and laughed, "Whats wrong? Did you watch the thing?" I hugged her and asked, "Why do you think I'm crying?" She knew. "Because I am growing up so fast?" I nodded. "It's okay," she said and ran back outside to join her friends.

I have beautiful, smart, funny, talented children. There is nothing better than that. Not millions of dollars, not anything in the entire world. We are so lucky and blessed. I couldn't ask for more, except for maybe time to slow down a little bit.

Food Issues

   
We have food issues in my house with both kids. I picked up the kiddos from school and we are driving down the road and my 6 year old says, "Mom, you know what I couldn't stop thinking about at school today? Eating cake. Can we make cake?" I told her that we could make cake on the weekend. She didn't mention cake again after that. Fast forward to Sunday morning at 5:50 am, I am awoken to my daughter shaking me. "Mom, mom....it's time to make a cake." What in the devil? "We can make cake at 7 o'clock." I was hoping she would forget about it but at 7 on the dot, she is standing over me. "Mom, let's make a cake." I rolled out of bed and put on coffee and pulled out the cake mix. Yes, I have lost control of my life.

My little one was so excited, she was pulling out bowls and pans. I told her that she had to bake the cake and I would supervise. She did so good. She read the back of the box and I helped her preheat the oven. She got out the eggs and we measured the water and oil. She put it in the oven and turned to me and said, "Now, can I lick the bowl?" It was only 7:30 and she hadn't had breakfast yet and could possibly get salmonella but I let her. Bad Mom Award.

After it cooled, I let her ice it and gave her some sprinkles to decorate. I was doing the dishes and wasn't paying attention and she used all of the sprinkles. Sprinkles threw up on that cake. It was damn good though. Very sugary.

After we finished the cake, we planned a trip to the grocery store. I have been in a food rut lately. I usually plan my meals but we have been eating the same foods over and over again and I need a little change. I had tried to go to the store the day before but I hadn't planned ahead so I figured I would just go in and see if anything struck my fancy. I walked through the store and could not see one thing I wanted to eat. I began to feel extremely anxious. There were so many choices and not one thing that I wanted. Even though we had no food in the house, I left the store without buying a thing. So if you had any doubts that I was crazy before, this confirms it. I drove home and my husband greeted me at the door. "Where is the food?" I got all upset and weepy and I was like, "There were so many things and I didn't know what to get. I need to make a plan and try again." He looked at me like I had 3 heads. I should have just picked up Midol while I was there.

I need to plan my dinners because we have certain arbitrary rules about dinner. Meals can't just be thrown together. Dinner needs to have a protein, a grain and a vegetable. One of the vegetables needs to be green or orange or yellow. Potatoes can replace the grain but cannot replace the vegetable. I try to include a side of fruit whenever possible. These were the rules that were followed in my house growing up because those were the rules in my grand parents house. I call it the dinner matrix. It was probably learned by my grandmother in some home economics class in 1942 and it dictates my grocery shopping today. It just doesn't seem like a whole meal if it doesn't follow the dinner matrix.

So I was doing some planning for the next trip. I put together a menu for the week and was pulling some new meal ideas from online. I was asking the kids what they would like and we were throwing ideas around. My 8 year old was vetoing all of my suggestions.

My kids have never been picky eaters. I was always very conscious of what they ate as little ones and I gave them whole foods and lots of veggies. Their first foods were mashed avocados and bananas. They would eat anything. At 3 they were eating things like bok choy, lentil soup, hummus. It made my life easy. My youngest child is still the kid who will eat anything. She is a great eater. She loves artichoke hearts, sundried tomatoes, mushroooms, any and all seafood, all vegetables (except for raw carrots). She is willing to try new foods and she eats. My oldest daughter the past 2 years has regressed. She will decide randomly that she doesn't like certain foods. She might eat broccoli today and tomorrow declare that she hates broccoli. It is so annoying. She has a lot of friends that are picky eaters and I think that she thinks that's the cool thing to do. Like if she has a friend over and the friend doesn't like something she'll be like, "I hate tacos too." Then she won't eat tacos for 3 months until the day she forgets she is supposed to hate tacos and eats them accidentally and likes them again. We do this again and again. Another part of me thinks it's a control issue and she is rebelling against me and trying to show that she is control of what she does and does not eat. I try not to make a big deal about it. I don't want to fight about food, I never force my kids to eat food they don't like. I do not make separate meals for her - I am not an ala carte chef, but I try to cook foods that she likes.

I suggested this tortellini salad with shrimp, asparagus, artichokes, and sundried tomatoes in a citrus dill vinaigrette. That sounded so yummy. My 6 year old was like - make that! My 8 year old said, "Can we have macaroni and cheese instead?" No. No we cannot have macaroni and cheese instead. We cannot do a rotation of spaghetti, macaroni and cheese, tacos, and pizza every week for the next 10 years. I can't and won't do it just because she arbitrarily decides she hates certain foods. It's not fair to everyone else in the house. I turned to her and said, "Listen, when I make dinner - you don't have to eat it but you are going to have to make your own food that night. You can have a sandwich and carrotsticks and fruit or a bowl of cereal with sliced apples and peanut butter but you cannot just eat crap and I am not cooking you separate food." She said, "Okay." I didn't want to make an issue of it but I asked her, "You used to eat everything but now it seems like you are getting pickier and picker. What's going on?" She shrugged, "I guess my taste buds are changing." As long as she eats, I'm happy. Who knows, maybe she'll take a bite of the tortellini salad and like it. If not - she'll make a sandwich and I'll eat her portion. Seems like a win-win to me.

Shaving

My cell phone rang at 8:30 this morning. "Can I talk to C?" I called my daughter over and she grabbed my phone and chatted for a bit. "Mom, can I go on the boat today?" "Sure." She shoved the phone at me, "Well, talk to her mom." Then she ran off to put on her swimsuit. I confirmed the plans with her friend's mom. My youngest sulked because she wanted to go to. My husband told her that he would take her to the water park and then to Larry's Giant Subs for lunch. She cheered up right away. This kid LOVES Larry's. We can right any wrong by agreeing to take her to Larry's.

My oldest came down stairs in her tankini and bag in hand. "Did you pack a towel?" She looked at me like that was a stupid question. "Yes...and sunscreen, my water bottle and a change of clothes." She is on it. I kissed her and told her to be good and have fun. She waved to me and walked away. Her hair is getting so long and wavy. She looked so beautiful.

That evening, I picked her up and she told me all about her day. How they took the boat out to Edisto and swam and that they went to Gilligan's for lunch and ate on the dock. How they saw a boy in their class on another boat and they waved to him. That they had a wonderful time. I thought to myself, This kid is living the good life.

She was exhausted and she got into the shower. I retrieved a towel for her and she dried herself off. I noticed a temporary tattoo on her ankle. "What are you looking at?" she asked. "Just the tattoo on your leg." She looked down and said, "My legs are hairy. I might need to shave them." She told me about how her little sister tried to take the hair off her legs with scotch tape. These kids are crazy.

I remember always wanting to shave my legs as a little kid because they were so hairy. I wanted to shave when I was in the 1st and 2nd grade. I remember being 11 and being really self conscious about my hairy legs but feeling like my parents would say no if I asked them to shave. So I had enough one day and I decided that I was going to do it without their permission. I found an old razor under their bathroom sink. It was dull, a little rusty but I didn't know any better. I got into the bathtub and wet my legs - no lather, and I shaved them with the dull, rusty razor. I pressed down as hard as I could because it was so dull. The water was pretty red by the time I got done. They stung and bled. I took chunks out. It must have been pretty bad because I got a my own razor after that.

I sat down next to daughter and asked, "When do kids start shaving their legs now a days?" She shrugged, "I think in 6th or 7th grade." I thought about that and it seemed pretty reasonable. "Tell you what- I will let you shave your legs when you are in 6th or 7th grade, or when you have underarm hair. Whatever comes first. Deal?" "Ok." Then I realized that 6th grade is only 2 years away. First she'll want to shave her legs, then she'll want to get her ears pierced, then she'll want to kiss boys. Uggh. That sounds pretty horrible.

I don't know what the big deal is about shaving. Shaving is horrible. Once you start you can't stop. I try to avoid shaving as much as possible. I love the winter time because I can wear pants and tights. I need to step up my leg shaving now that summer is here. My daughter doesn't know what she's signing up for - another chore.

Terms of Endearment

                                            

I got home late on Wednesday evening and the kids were already asleep. I set down my bags and tiptoed into their rooms. My husband followed behind me. I watched them sleep for a moment. They looked so peaceful in the soft glow of the hallway light. "Look at our little binkers. They are so sweet." Yeah, I call them binkers. I have aquired a variety of pet names for my kids over the years. See list below:
Bean
Bug
Bobaydence
Bo-bay
Bo
Bumble bee
Bumble
Bee
Bee-Bee
Wee-Bow
Pee-Bow
Bee-Bow
Pillow
K-K
Snuggle Buggle
Buggle
Poopy Head
Poopy Bottom
Soggy Bottom
Stinker Binker
Binky
Binks
Gobbledy-Gook

I am sure there are more. I don't know where they've come from. Every year I they take on new nicknames. My children answer to these names and know whose belong to who. If I yell "Bee-Bee," my youngest comes. If I call "Bo-Bay" my oldest will show up. I don't know when they will start getting annoyed at these pet names, but it will probably be soon.

Of course my husband and I have pet names for each other. Some are terms of endearment and others are insults. My husband's favorite pet name for me starts with a "B" and ends with an "itch". Just kidding - that's only what he calls me in his head. He did call me a wizard last week. I get this text from him, "The kid's bookbags are in your car that is parked at the airport. Way to go, wizard." "Did you just call me a wizard? Is that supposed to be an insult?" "Yes, it is." I was not offended at all. I have been called worse things than a wizard. He doesn't realize who he is messing with. I can roll with with the nerdy insults. "Well, you are a level  10 Air Elemental." In yo face!!!!

Long After the Thrill

                                        
I've been feeling weird lately and I haven't been able to put my finger on it. It is this time of year, I guess. The end of another school year. In 10 days I will have a 4th grader and 2nd grader. The girls both have birthdays within the next 8 weeks. They are getting sooooo big! I will celebrate my 11th wedding anniversary next month. That doesn't even seem possible - that 11 years have come and gone already. I had this epiphany tonight that this weird feeling I've been having is the realization that my rites of passages have come and gone. Except for menopause, but that's not something to anticipate. All the good ones have come and gone.

Everyone I know is getting married or having babies. Everyone - friends, my sister, cousins. Babies are just coming out of everywhere. I am so far removed from that stage of my life that I almost feel obsolete. It's just me and my empty womb these days, hanging out. I recall when my children were babies and it almost seems like a life time ago. I can remember the newness of my children so vividly. The way they smelled when they were nuzzled against my chest, the feel of them grasping my fingers, the excitement of them crawling and then walking and then talking. Their first day of school, learning to ride a bike without training wheels, losing their first teeth....Those are all things that have come and gone. We are not new to each other anymore. It never really occurred to me that having children was like marriage until now. The thrill when you first meet, the adventures you have when you start your life together, the trials and the tribulations, the newness that slowly fades and turns into a deep love and admiration. There are those moments when things are new again - the look in the faces of my children after they see me following a long school day, when they master a new skill, when they fall asleep at night and they look like babies again. I hold onto these moments, though fleeting, to fall in love with them again and again.

I felt like I was playing house for many years. I have squeezed so much life into 11 years that at many times it didn't seem real. But finally, just recently, I have realized that I am not playing house anymore. I have been married over a decade, I am done having kids, both of my kids are in grade school, I have life insurance....holy crap! I really am a grown up. How it has taken so long to hit me, I don't know. But that is why I have been feeling weird. I am not anticipating anymore. I was always anticipating something. I feel like things are finally in their place. I feel settled in. I guess my job is to sit back and experience my children's rites of passages with them. I'll just sit back and be obsolete and reminisce about when things were new and pretend I have wisdom or some shit. Because that's what grown ups do.

That Moment When You Realize You Suck

                     
                                          
Yesterday was a weird day. Not because I won the Powerball, unfortunately. I woke up early and there was a lot of things to be done around the house. I was feeling a little overwhelmed. The kids had a friend over and I took them all to the water park. I was exhausted by the time dinner rolled around. The kids helped me shuck some corn and fix dinner. Afterwards they went to play outside and my husband fixed me a cup of coffee and we sat down and played a card game. It was so nice to just relax. At one point the kids came in and said, "Can we go to the store and get Pokemon cards?" That was random. My husband was like "Sure." What? "They are only like 2 bucks." So we went off in search of Pokemon cards. Game Stop was closed so we tried Target.

We are driving down the road and the 3 kids are happy in the back. My husband let out a huge gasp, "Today is the 19th. The kids had a show tonight." I gasped too. How could we forget? The kids go to after school care at a church down the road and they had been practicing to put on a singing show and we forgot about it. I was so upset with myself. The kids shrugged their shoulders and said, "That's okay. We didn't have to go." "Well, I told your teachers you would be there." My husband sighed, "I told them too. On Friday evening." "Worst parents ever." I felt so horrible about it.

So we are walking into Target and I said, "I wish we had a good excuse. We need to get one." My husband turned to me, "You are going to lie to church people?" "Don't judge me." I thought for a minute, "We couldn't go because.....I was vomiting violently." My oldest piped up, "Well, if you were vomiting, dad could have taken us." "We were BOTH vomiting." Seems legit.

We walked over to the Pokemon cards. They were 12 bucks. I looked at my husband, "Two dollars? When is the last time you looked at Pokemon cards - 1998?" He laughed. "Probably." We got 2 packs. It was painful. We were walking to check out and who do we see? The church music director. Really? Why? My husband saw him and darted into the kids clothes section. He's non confrontational. I felt really bad. I was just going to fess up. I went over with the kids and he greeted them. I told him I was so sorry and that we got re-arranged and forgot today was the day and what a good job he does with the kids. He seemed to be okay about it but I know in his head he was thinking, This lady is the worst mom EVER. Oh well.

We went to check out and my husband grabbed a book from the end cap. "I've been wanting to read this." He set it on the belt. Can't he wait until it comes out in paperback? He must be confused and think we won the lottery. I was just ready for bed at that point. Tomorrow is a new day.

Outhouse Excursion

             
I hate public restrooms. I hate them with a passion reserved for only the most horrible things. My hatred for restrooms became more intense after I had children. You never know what you are getting into. Every public restroom presents a new adventure. The worst public restroom experience I ever had was when the kids were toddlers. We were driving down the road in Orlando when my 3 year old declared, "Mommy, I haffa pee-pee." When a 3 year old haffa pee-pee there is no time to waste. Three year olds wait until the last minute to let you know and when they do it's urgent. I pulled off at the next exit and I was in a third world country. It was not a good neighborhood at all. I wanted to tell her to just pee her pants because I was afraid. It was still the middle of the day so I assumed we would be okay. I pulled into a rundown gas station and got the one year old out of her carseat and the three year old is walking in with her hands down her pants - literally trying to hold it in. We walk in and this place was gross. The floor looked like it hadn't been mopped ever. It smelled funny. There was a hotplate by the register with a pizza that looked like it had been there a week. There were flies everywhere. I didn't see a bathroom. I went to the cashier and said, "Do you have a bathroom." He handed me a wood plank with a key attached to it. "Yeah, it's around back." This was going to be bad. I just knew it.

We walked around to the back of the building and I open the door and we went into this bathroom and my fears were realized. This bathroom had been cleaned never. There was a puddle in the corner. There were flies. The toilet was covered in mold. I turned to my three year old who was squirming. "If you pee your pants, I have a change of clothes." "No, mama." Damn it. "Guys, don't touch ANYTHING." I was carrying my one year old and I set her down next to me. "You need to hug my leg and don't let it go," I said sternly. She did what I said. I held my 3 year old over the toilet. It took all the strength I had in my arms to do it but there was no way we were even going near that seat. I wiped her down. She went to flush. "NO - DON"T FLUSH." I yelled. She looked at me scared as did my one year old. "We are not going to wash our hands." I had sanitizer in the car. The sink looked like it had gonorrhea residue in it. I turned to the door and did a karate kick to open it. hahaha. I was not putting my hands near that things. We walked back in and I practically threw the wood plank key holder at the cashier. I could not get out of there fast enough. I got the kids into the car and took a deep breath. I was traumatized. I felt like I needed therapy after that public restroom experience. I shudder just thinking about.

That was the worst restroom experience. Until yesterday. I had a long drive ahead of me and I was really thirsty. I stopped to get gas and picked up 2 large water bottles. As I'm driving along, I am just guzzling this water. I was in the middle of nowhere. There were mountains, cows, farmlands and that was it. At one point I didn't realize what state I was in. I was just following the GPS. Then the water hit me. I had to go - but there was nowhere to go. Every turn I approached I prayed, "Dear God, let there be a bathroom." But there was none. I drove like this for 45 minutes. I thought my kidneys were going to explode. This was surely the end for me. Suddenly - there was this small sign that said "rest area." There was this little shack next to this beautiful river. I was dying, it would have to do. I walked over and I walk in and there are two toilets. Just sitting in this room. No stalls. The door would not lock. I stood there and looked at the 2 toilets and back at the broken lock door and I thought. If someone walks in, I am just going to have to wave to them and say, "Good to see you." There was no other options. I walked over and I realized that there was no plumbing. This was a public outhouse. The could feel the vomit rising. I just did what I had to do but when I did, I felt this really cold intense breeze. Oh.my.god. I'm peeing into the river. I just knew it. A cold breeze like that does not come from a hole in the ground. As I'm feeling this breeze, all I could think about was all of the poop and pee particles being carried up by the breeze and sticking to me. I began to well up. I thought I was going to cry. I ran out of that place. I felt ashamed. I needed to take a shower in bleach and scrub myself.

As I drove away from that harrowing experience, I thought, "I am never drinking Smartwater ever again."

Fluffy Knees

                        
I had to go to the kid's school last week and I am walking down the hall and I spot my little one's teacher. I am looking for her in the line of children and I see these arms waving around. I walk closer and there is my six year old in line, waving her hands and doing a little dance as she walks along. All the other kids were walking calmly with their hands at their sides and no one was acting like her behavior was unusual at all. Which means she does that all the time. I was not surprised.

Before I could get her attention her teacher came up to me and said, "I have a bone to pick with your daughter." I love her teacher and we are very friendly so anything out of the ordinary I hear about. "I was wearing shorts yesterday and she told me I have fluffy knees!" She laughed. I am glad she has a sense of humor. That's by baby. She will tell you what she thinks. She is a truth giver. I said, "Believe me, it could be worse." It could be. That very morning she told me that I have an "outrageously big butt." Those were her exact words. It's not just big, it's outrageously big. That's taking it to a whole other level.

If my daughter tells you the awful truth it means that she loves you and feels comfortable with you. She wouldn't randomly go up to people and tell them they have fluffy needs. She only reserves her truth for friends and family. She reminds me of my youngest sister. She is brutally honest. When my siblings and I were teenagers we would always ask her how we looked. Our parents always said we looked nice and even we did to each other - but my baby sister would pick you apart from head to toe. She would tell you what was wrong with your hair, your shirt made you look pregnant, your feet were smelly. Then we would know and could improve. It's not that she was trying to be mean. She is just objective. She shares her observations. I wish I could be more like that.

Later that night, I had a discussion with my 6 year old about thinking about other people's feelings before we speak. She nodded and said, "But mom, her knees were really fluffy and weird." What am I going to do with this kid? Just love her.

Water Park

My kids had a friend sleepover last Friday night and I wanted to do something fun with them the next day. It was going to be hot so I decided to take them to the water park. We live a mile from this awesome water park and we get season passes every summer. I purchased the passes a month ago but forgot the waterpark was open so it kind of felt like we were going for free.

I told the girls to get ready and get towels and I went to put on my Spanx bathing suit. I hate my Spanx bathingsuit. I feel like I am trying to squeeze my adult body into a child's swimsuit. I was stretching it and pulling it and squeezing into it. By the time I had it on I was out of breath. I thought, I better not drink anything because I am not going to be able to use the bathroom. The only part of my Spanx bathing suit that I like is that it's a swimdress.

                       
No need to shave your bikini line in a Spanx swim dress. It's the ideal bathing suit for a lazy mom. A lazy mom with stretchmarks, cellulite, and saddlebags. Check, check and check. I loaded the kids into the car and off we went.

We went and got our passes and the kids headed straight for the wave pool. I hate the wave pool. It makes me nervous. My kids are excellent swimmers and there are 8 life guards but I still don't like them to get too far from me. My eight year old is like, "Just going to the 6 foot end to get a tube." I watch her like a hawk. I can't enjoy myself in the wave pool. We moved on to the lazy river that is only 4 feet deep so I could relax. We went around and around. My 6 year old declared she had to use the restroom which made me have to pee too and I was cursing my damn Spanx swimdress the whole time we were walking over to the bathrooms because I knew how hard it would be. After I was done fighting my bathing suit, I went to wash my hands and I looked in the mirror and I thought, "I look hot." I don't ever think that. I turned sideways. Something fishy was going on. Was it the Spanx? No, it was not. The mirrors in the bathroom are distorted to make you look slightly longer (and therefore thinner) like the mirrors in a fun house. These water park people are GENIUSES. I wanted to steal those mirrors. I was very amused.

We went to the tree house and I sat in a lounge chair and people watched. The place was filled with parents and their kids and teenagers. The teenagers were in their little bikinis laying out with their friends and eyeing the life guards. I remember those days. Avalon life guards were the hottest. Then there were the parents. The moms in their skirted tankinis (the quintessential mom summer uniform), the dads with their guts just hanging free with their unkempt mane of chest hair out for the world to see. They are chasing a saggy diapered toddler. You have a few of those over achieving parents who look like Brad and Angelina but the majority are the former description. As I sat there in my swim dress watching all the people and I had this realization that most of us parents have given up on life a little bit. I have a little bit. There is something sad and liberating about not having anyone to impress anymore. I do make an effort to look nice for my husband but there is no mystery anymore. The man has seen me in sweatpants on a regular basis, I'm not fooling him with makeup and a push up bra anymore. My bikini days are long behind me. *Sigh*

It was almost time to go but the kids wanted to go down the water slide. It was huge and I was nervous about it. You have to go down on your stomach on this mat. So I am at the top, laying on this stupid mat on my stomach and I couldn't get enough momentum to propel myself forward. I felt like a beached whale. When I finally did get going, I flew down. The bigger you are, the faster you go. I got a gallon of water up my nose. I had enough water park for the day.

As I walked back to the car, I thought about my next big event for the day - figuring out how I was going to squeeze myself out of my Spanx swim dress.

Mother's Day

                            
Today is Mother's Day. The day where even mediocre mothers like me pat ourselves on the back and congratulate ourselves for the long days we spend tending to the needs of our children. It is a day that forces our husbands to pick up the housework and take care of the needs of the kiddos to pay reverence for the fact that we sacrificed our bodies to grow and bear their offspring. That's my favorite part.

I remarked to my husband yesterday that we were going to go out to breakfast for Mother's Day. He said, "Oh, I thought you wanted breakfast in bed." I said, "Well, it's 7 pm and we don't have any breakfast food in the house." "Well, I was going to wake up early in the morning and go get you breakfast." I thought about this for a minute. I wake up super early so not many places would be open. I then tried to get inside my husband's head and I knew what he was thinking. "You are planning to wake up early and get me a McMuffin and serve me a McMuffin in bed, aren't you?" He was completely silent. I laughed. "Seriously, tell me that was not the plan." He shrugged, "McMuffins are good. I don't see the problem with that." I was hysterical, I was laughing so hard. "Honey, I hate McDonald's - but I appreciate the thought." I am not a high class chick by any stretch of the imagination but I do not want McMuffins in bed on Mother's Day unless I wanted McDiarrhea.

My little one had a sleepover last night and I woke up to my 8 year bringing me a cup of coffee and a little white bag. She kissed me and said, "Mom, I got a present for you." I opened it up and pulled out a handmade card, she wrote in perfect cursive, "Roses are red, violets are blue; if mother's were flowers - I'd pick you!" So sweet. I pulled out a small painted candle holder with a heart on it. "There is candy in there too, mom. Will you share it with me?" Of course. She ate the good ones. We got dressed and went to pick up my 6 year old and head to breakfast. She had made me a necklace and an apron with a little worm made out of her fingerprints. It was so cute. I love home made gifts.

We tried to go to Perkins but apparently it went out of business. So we drove to the IHOP. There was a line out the door. "We are not eating here. Let's see what's down this other road." So we are driving down this country road and I KNEW there was nowhere to eat. My husband was not so convinced. So we are driving, and I am starving and my husband is pointing and saying things like, "Bojangles is open." Oh.my.God. After 20 minutes, I was like, "Just go to Dunkin Donuts." I actually hate doughnuts but I was starved and annoyed. We walk in and I am just standing there looking at the menu and my husband could tell  that I was not happy. He turned to me and said, "Look on the bright side, you are in one of the finest doughnut establishments in the country." "Just get me a number 5." I took the kids outside and we sat at a table next to the parking lot. We chatted and my husband brought out our breakfast. I didn't imagine that I would be pulling my Mother's Day breakfast from a brown paper bag. We sat and ate. I asked him how his breakfast sandwich was. "Crispy." He turned it to reveal that it was half burnt. We laughed and laughed. He pulled out a doughnut from the bag. "I got this special one for you." It was a heart with pink frosting and pink heart jimmies. The guy just threw it in the bag all haphazardly and it was smeared and smushed. It looked so sad. It was the most pathetic doughnut we had ever seen. It was a breakfast I will remember always.

We spent the rest of the day relaxing. I hosted dinner for my mother and my sister. The kids played outside. As the kids were getting ready for bed I said to my husband, "I really love being a mom." He said, "You can thank me for that." I smiled, "Oh, really?" "Well, you wouldn't be a mom without me." I nodded, "You're right, I know it was a huge sacrifice for you." He hugged me, "It was a few minutes of really hard work." He is so funny.

We put the kids to bed and they kissed me. "I love you mom. You're the best mom EVER."

I don't know about that. I try really hard. I am not a perfect mother but my children will always know that I believe that they are smart and beautiful and that I will never give up on them. That I will love them no matter what. I hope they realize that they are lucky to be loved like that. I am so incredibly blessed. I have two healthy, beautiful children. They are smart and funny, they are exceptional conversationalists. They are kind and quirky. They give the best hugs and kisses. They are the reason I exist. Mothers do so much. We break up fights, we dry tears, we cook for our children and clean their clothes, we wipe bloody knees and kiss boo-boos, we clean vomit and dirty faces, we help with homework and give encouragement. We do this selflessly with little thanks. Mother's suffer. We watch our children grow and face their own challenges. We carry fear (once you become a mom - every stranger is a potential child predator or serial killer). We worry about whether they will make the right choices. We give them everything and make them our world even though we know that to do our job well means that one day they won't need us. I treasure everyday with my girls - I still have them little. They are my greatest accomplishments.

Growing Pains

                             
On Wednesday night after dinner my 8 year old started complaining of pain in her thighs and joints near her hip. She was riding bikes all afternoon and playing hard, so I didn't really think anything of it. She took a hot shower and went to bed. I wake up to her sobbing at 1 am. She was like, "Mom, my legs hurt so bad." She got up to go to the bathroom and was in pain with every step. I got up and fixed her a cup of cold water and made her take some ibproften. I massaged her legs for an hour. She wasn't in severe pain anymore but was still uncomfortable and couldn't sleep. I was freaked out. She didn't have a fever or any other symptoms besides leg pain. So I did what any other neurotic mom would do and I spent an hour on Web MD. It could be growing pains, MRSA infection, cancer. Your mind goes to dark places in the middle of the night when you have a child you can't help. I told my husband he needed to take her to urgent care in the morning to be checked out. He thought I was overreacting. "It's probably just growing pains. What do you think kids did back in the day?" "They died of bone infections. That's what they did. You're taking her."

I had to work and my husband took her and they said it could be a viral infection or growing pains. They didn't know but they confirmed that she wasn't going to die and that's all that I wanted. They told her to stay home that day and she laid around and rested. She had a show for the chorus that night and if you miss school you are not supposed to go to after school activities. She was so disappointed. I told her that if she was feeling up to it, I would still let her go. She worked so hard and had a solo. I just had to.

When I got home I pulled out her chorus shirt and her khakis. She was getting dressed and she said, "Mom, these khakis don't fit anymore." I just purchased them. They are a size 8. "You grew out of these already?" It was 1 hour and 15 minutes until show time. There wasn't time to get new pants. I told her to give me her pants. I stretched the hell out of the waist of these pants. I had my foot on the back and was pulling them. I just needed them to give enough to button. We got them buttoned. I told her to put her fingers through the belt loops and squat a few times. She looked at me sideways. "Just trust me - I've done this a time or two." She did. "Can you breathe?" She nodded. "Okay - they just need to last for a few hours. You can do it." She has been moving into 10/12 clothes. I just forgot about the khakis. Bad mom award on that one.

She asked me to curl her hair. We went into the bathroom and I started to curl. I had the Les Miserables soundtrack in my head. I began to sing I Dreamed a Dream. My daughter said, "Stop singing. It sounds horrible." Well, excuse me. I played it on the IPad instead and lipsynched. I could see my daughters reflection in the mirror, scowling. "What's wrong?" "You're embarrassing me." It was just the two of us alone in the room and she was embarrassed of me. Wow. "Do you want to listen to RENT instead?" She rolled her eyes, "No." I finished curling her hair and I put on some lip gloss and blush and just a touch of mascara - stage makeup. She arranged her hair and looked in the mirror. She looked so beautiful. "Thanks mom."

We went to the school and I dropped her off in the music room. There was quite a crowd. The kids came out wearing Mickey Mouse ears. They sang all Disney songs. My little one came up and did her solo. I was so proud of her. Then the kids sang "Candle on the Water." That's when the tears came. I am so sentimental. Everything makes me cry. Just watching her up there, looking so grown up, so angelic. I was filled with such pride. She is my dream realized. She did awesome. I gave her a big thumbs up and she gave me a little smile.

Afterwards we went to Barnes and Noble for cheesecake. The kids talked me into buying them books. We got home and my daughter got into the shower. I collected her too-small khakis from the floor and put them in the hand-me-down box. I sighed. We have growing pains, indeed.

The Mommy Wars

I went away for work last week which was a nice break from the routine but hard for me to leave the kids. I had breakfast with this lady who was so funny and delightful. We talked about being working moms and all that comes along with it. We talked about how when our kids were babies we would go to these new mommy support groups. She said, "There should be support groups for moms like us." She is SO right. When I stayed at home with my babies, I really enjoyed it but it can be so hard. I would meet up with other moms and we would go to the park and hang out together and lament about the laundry that needed to get done and how many times the baby woke up in the middle of the night and how if we watched one more episode of the Wiggles we might just lose our minds. We had fellowship and connection. We felt validated in our choices. I need that so much now at this stage in my life (minus the Wiggles).

Shortly before my youngest turned 2, I returned to work full time. It was time for me. I was ready. Being a stay at home mom can be stressful. It's not just the housework, and the crying toddlers and the stress of being a one income family. It can be so isolating. But being a working mom is no walk in the park. No one knows guilt better than a working mom does.The days when you can't get time off and you miss a class party. The lack of time to do basic things like doing the dishes and putting away laundry. Trying to let go of the fact that other moms out there are judging you for working outside of the home (I was one of those moms, yikes!). It's like you can't win no matter what you do. Everyone wants to be a great mom. The mom that all the other moms are envious of. The ones who bake and are at every event and have immaculate houses. I am not one of those moms. I am a good enough mom. I try my best and that's all I can do.

I soooo want to start a moms groups. Moms Of School Age Kids (MOSAK for short). Working moms with kids ages 5-12 hang out in someones dirty house and drink wine and vent and complain about our guilt and our husbands and the kids homework and everything else. We wouldn't judge at MOSAK, we understand that sometimes kids get dry cereal for breakfast, that we sleep in sweatpants and shave our legs very infrequently, that sometimes we ignore the children to get a moment of piece, that the floors may be sticky but the children are mostly happy. That it's okay and that no mom is perfect. If you want to join-let me know.

I am going to go to bed now instead of finishing the dishes, I'll probably feel guilty about it. Just add it to the list.

I'm Too Sexy for My Shirt

                 
My husband never buys clothes for himself. Never. I don't buy clothes for him because when I do he scrunches up his nose and says things like, "That looks horrible, I'm never wearing that." Some husbands let their wives dress them but not him. He likes to wear what he wants and doesn't want input. That's okay with me, I don't have time to shop anyway. I do always encourage him to buy things if needed and he can take my advice or not. Usually not, but I make an effort.

Last week I was in the area of his work and I stopped in to see if he wanted to take a break and have a cup of coffee with me. We don't often get time alone so it was nice. We walked over to Sonic and drank iced coffee. I mentioned casually that he needed new work shirts and he said, "I do need new clothes. Let's go this weekend and you can help me pick stuff out." I thought that he obviously had been abducted by aliens. "Really?" He nodded. I was so excited.

So we went to Marshalls because it is close to the house and we are lazy and don't want to walk through a mall or department store. As we picked out things our girls explored the kids section that was close by. They would come up to us holding dresses and tops and say, "Mom, can we get this?" "No, we are shopping for dad." They pouted. "Why does dad get everything and we get nothing?" I rolled my eyes, "Because he owns 3 shirts and you own 50." They really do. They have so many clothes that sometimes I find clothes in their closet that I forgot existed.

So we get the clothes and we walk over to the dressing room. The lady who was working the dressing room was not the friendliest. My husband said, "I have 10 items." She recounted everything and handed him a little number tag. Then she sat down in front of a desk and scowled. I was looking at her and she reminded me of something and I couldn't put my finger on it. Then I figured it out. She looked like a bloodhound. She had these big saggy checks and looked really sullen.
                                            
I am not trying to be mean and I'm not saying she was ugly. She just had bloodhound-like features is all.

The dressing room was right behind the shoe section and while my husband tried on his clothes the kids tried on shoes. They tried on every single pair of shoe that was on display. They would put on one pair and model them and then run off for the next pair. The bloodhound lady watched them and appeared annoyed. I didn't care. We were spending money in there, the kids weren't making a mess, and they actually weren't annoying me so I did not mind them sampling every pair of shoe at all.

My husband would emerge periodically from the dressing room and let me say "yea" or "nea". He looked so handsome. The kids were like, "You look so nice, daddy." Finally we were ready to go. The kids asked for shoes, of course. I didn't give in. I did buy gummy worms for us to share instead. Red and clear gummy worms = heaven. It was a good day.