Gymnastics is Killing my Soul

                            
I am in a special gymnastics hell right now. My kids have been up my butt all summer about wanting to do a sport. I don't know why they just can't play badminton in the back yard. They decided they wanted to do gymnastics. They did gymnastics for YEARS when they were younger and we have been on a  year hiatus. The gym they went to was just to far from the house and it was just inconvenient. So I signed them up for classes and we get there and the people were like, your kids are too advanced for our standard lessons so they should train with the team. I thought they were full of crap until I watched them do the vault and bars. They are really talented. So I thought, OK, they can practice with the team. Except that they meet at 4 pm on Monday and Thursday. Really? My husband and I are going to make it happen because the kids really want to do it but do they have to make the time so inconvenient for working parents? God forbid they practice on a Saturday morning or a time that is reasonable for people that have to work for a living.


Then there is the cost of it. I got an email yesterday from the office manager with an attached invoice for their team leotards and warm up suits. Holy hell, it was $343. This was me after I opened it.

Those leotards better be made of the finest French velvet and bedazzled with diamonds and gold thread. Ugggh. Someone punch me in the face now.

I cannot be a gymnastics mom. I don't have time for it and I have no desire to be. I want my kids to have fun and gymnastics is not going to take over our lives. Maybe it would if colleges were giving out full rides for gymnastics, but they're not. They don't have Olympic aspirations, and even if they were good enough we wouldn't send them to a Russian training center to practice 40 hours a week. Maybe that makes me a bad mom - I don't care. I am not the mom in the Olympic commercials. I am the mom who drinks too much coffee and just wants to sit on the couch. Bad Mom Award.

It's been great to have my little one do gymnastics because she wears herself out. I am so tired of her doing cartwheels in the house. In the past month she has done the following: nearly cartwheeled into an open oven, kicked me in the ribs as I turned a corner, and ninja kicked my sister's cellphone out of her hand. It's so annoying. I can't handle it.

In other news, my daughter is getting her braces off next month. She is so excited about it. She had an ortho appointment yesterday afternoon. He announced that our next visit would be our last and then he pointed at my 8 year old. "But you still have another one." I said, "Too bad for you, because I don't think she'll need them." Her teeth have all come in perfectly. When she was 4, the dentist remarked to me, excitedly, "Your daughter have PERFECT primate spacing." Are you calling my kid a monkey? Thank GOD we are not looking at braces for her a year from now because they are so damn expensive. I need to save all my money for gymnastics, anyway.

The Circle of Life

                                        
I was pleasantly surprised with a visit yesterday from my brother who was passing through on his way to a wedding. He lives 11 hours away and I miss him terribly. I was so happy to see him. He brought one of this childhood friends with him and his wife. I've known this friend for many years and I kind of think of him like a little brother too. In my head he is still an 11 year old with a bowl cut and a chain hanging around his neck. But there he was sitting across from me, a grown man holding the hand of his wife. They are having a baby.

I know a little thing or two about babies and he asked me a gajillion questions. I was very impressed with him. He was talking about slings and breastfeeding and cloth diapers. He's done his research. His wife was telling me how she was concerned about the birth. Oh, the birth. Women worry so much about it but it is such a short, fleeting thing. It's not a mystery. Women have been doing it forever. The birth is cake. The years of bringing a human being - now THAT is something to be concerned about. The years and years of sleep deprivation and servitude.

They asked me about my births. So I told them. Like everything else in my life, they were funny and a little bit ridiculous. I told them my placenta story. It's my favorite. My second daughter was born at home and I was undecided with what to do with the placenta. I couldn't just throw it away. It was a life giving organ. So I did what any normal person would do. I wrapped it in wax paper and put it in a large ziplock bag and put it in the freezer until I could figure out what to do with it.

Every day I would take my frozen veggies out of the freezer and see the bag of placenta, just sitting there. Chillin. We were moving a few months after she was born and we had to do something with it. So I decided I would bury it and plant a tree on top. So I took the placenta out to thaw and purchased a young tree. We didn't just bury the placenta. We had a placenta burying ceremony. I was a complete hippie.

We lit a candle. We read a poem. Placenta poems - that's a real thing. Insert placenta poem here: http://www.purplewalnutmidwife.co.uk/a-placenta-poem/. We said a prayer to the moon goddess and rubbed crystals and played chimes and all that hippie dippie sh*t. We should have had a drum circle. Afterwards I was pleased. I honored my life giving placenta.

The next day I went out to the yard and saw my tree laying on the ground and a big hole where it once stood and my placenta WAS GONE. I was like:

LOL. Some animal literally came and dug it up. Which is weird because we had a fenced in yard. The succulent sent of my placenta sent an animal over the fence. I was horrified. My husband shrugged. "It's giving life again. It's the circle of life." That did not help me. "It sustained our baby and now it is sitting in the rectum of an ANIMAL." For days all I could think about is the animal pooping out my placenta. I was horrified. Now, it makes me laugh and laugh. That's what I get for being a wanna be hipster. haha.

Anyway, back to the new baby. So we talked about baby stuff. That's what you think about when you are pregnant. The cuddles and the sweet baby smell the link between you and your partner, the cost of diapers and wipes. The sheer responsibility of having kids doesn't hit you until much later. I'm pretty much halfway through raising the children and I think back now at all the sleepless nights, illnesses they've been nursed through, meals I've made, laundry I've done, books I've read, boo-boos that I have kissed, vomit I've cleaned. The amount of time, money and work it takes to keep your children alive and thriving is absolutely mind blowing. You sacrifice almost everything. Your time, your sleep, your sanity. Your life is not yours anymore. It seems so daunting and if one really truly realized that before they had kids the human race would be much reduced. That's why I only have two.

Yes, it is an overwhelming amount of work. But the work is eclipsed with joy. I don't remember my life before the children. Except that something was missing. Somehow, when you love someone so much you don't mind the bad parts. You don't mind spending thousands of dollars on braces because you know your child will smile bigger and be more confident. You don't mind cleaning up the vomit. You don't mind making the meals or being interrupted. You realize that the laundry will always be there and you let it go. The children become everything. They become the sun in your sky. They are your heart and soul.

I smiled at my brother's friend and his wife. "Don't worry so much. Everything will be fine. You are going to love it!"

I Feel Like Chicken Tonight, Like Chicken Tonight

                                  

Last night, I was in the kitchen making dinner and my kids walked in. "What's for dinner?" "Chicken." They whined, "Awww, man. Not again." How did I respond? I started doing the chicken dance arms and singing, "I feel like chicken tonight, like chicken to toNIGHT!" My kids looked at me like I was insane. "What the heck mom?" "It's a commercial. I didn't make it up. I'll show you after dinner." We ate and then I pulled out my laptop. "Look, I told you."

I thought, whoever wrote that jingle should get a raise because I am still singing it 22 years later and the product no longer exists. My kids were loving it. So we spent yesterday evening watching 90s commercials on Youtube. It literally blew my kid's minds. "Wait - you could get pizza at Wendys? Wow, toys back then were crappy. I'd play with a Nite Brite. These graphics are horrible." I remarked at how cheap things were. You could get buy 1 get 1 meals at Burger King. What happened?

My daughter was like, "It would be cool if we had a time machine because we could get a lot of nickels and go back to the 90s and we could buy EVERYTHING." Ummmmm.....it was only 20 years ago, not the 1930s.

I think it's so funny that my kids think I am so old. They think I grew up in the Stone Age. They think we were primitive beings. Especially my 5th grader. I am always reminding her that I am pretty much one of the youngest moms. She just rolls her eyes. "Well, you don't act like it." BUUUURRRRRNNNN.

My husband came home late and we were still sucked into Youtube. "What are you doing? Why aren't the kids in bed yet?" I shrugged. "I am giving the kids a history lesson on 90's commercials." He was immediately interested. "You have got to put on the Crossfire commercial." That's why I love him. He gets it.

Going to the Dance

     




The dance was last night. I helped set up and was chaperoning. I blew up balloons as the DJ set up. I asked about what music he was going to play and if he found it hard to find appropriate modern music to play. He said that he only played the clean version on songs. Sometimes, even the clean version is dirty. Every song is about a booty. That being said, I always complain about how music has gotten so dirty and inappropriate but sometimes I listen to 30's and 40's music and there is this 40's song called "Bowlegged Woman" and he is talking about how he wants a bowlegged woman with her legs far apart, with enough room in the middle, she had a solid straddle when she went into battle. WHOA. The 1940's parents were not happy about it, I'm sure. So inappropriate music is not unique, it's been an ongoing issue forever. That somehow makes me feel a little bit better.

They turned off the lights and then the kids flooded into the gym. They were so excited. It was just 5th and 6th graders so it was a bunch of 10-12 year olds. What a weird age. It's so funny because most of the boys still look like little kids and all the girls are like a head taller and look like grown women. Even my daughter is taller than a lot of the boys. It was a sea of in-between children.
            
The music was playing and what surprised me is that all of the kids were dancing. There were very few wall flowers. My daughter was doing the Wobble and the Nay-Nay (which is something I didn't know about). Even the boys were cutting a rug. I thought - these are some confident kids. It must be the result of our generation of building up the kids to think they are so great. It was a fun and drama free event. When I was a kid, a dance wasn't complete until 2-3 girls were in the bathroom crying about the boy they liked being mean to them. Fighting with a girlfriend, being nasty to others. Someone being suspended.... Our kids were very well behaved.

I followed the rules and guidelines my daughter had in place. I didn't move my body when the music played. I did tap my foot. I manned the door and was inconspicuous. I did't attempt to talk to my daughter. She did come over to me a few times and acknowledged my existence and get this- she even hugged me in front of others. I was glad.

At the end of the dance, I was in charge of check out and I was talking to a dad that was chaperoning and we were chatting. He has a 6th grade daughter and an 8th grade son. I am fascinated by parents that have boys. I don't know anything about it. I asked him, "Do you worry more about your daughter than your son at this age." He thought for a moment. "You know, in some ways but it's hard having a boy because girls at this age can be so mean." I thought of the little boy who asked my daughter to the dance. I always assume that it is harder to raise girls than boys but I could not imagine having to help a boy navigate the middle school years. The expectation for boys and girls are different, Girls let out their feelings. They cry and sulk. Boys are expected to keep everything in and not cry and be strong. That's a lot of pressure and really hard. I guess none of us have it easy.

After the dance, my daughter was invited to sleepover a friend's house. We went back to the house and packed up and the whole family went to drop her off so we could have a late dinner. I walked in with my daughter and left my husband and little one in the car. I love this girl's mom. We are friends and she is just so sweet. She let me in and said, "Where is your other daughter?" "She's in the car with my husband." She smiled, "That girl is so funny. I have got to tell you what she said at B's party." Oh God, those words inspired fear in me. A few weeks ago, both my daughter's went to a sleep over party and a lot of the parents were there hanging out in the evening. We had prior commitments and couldn't stay. My friend continued with the story, "Well, all the kids were singing karaoke and all the adults were standing around watching and your daughter came up to the microphone and said, My parents couldn't be here tonight because they are on a date. Except their version of a date is sitting around the house in their under wear. Oh my God, we were all dying." Well, that's just wonderful. Now all my friends have that disgusting image in their head. I couldn't help but laugh. It is pretty funny. I don't have any shame anyway.

My kids are silly. I love them.

Math Homework and Other Things

                                

It's been so crazy around here I barely know what day and time it is. How the heck did it get to be September? But it is September which means - homework. Lots and lots of homework. The other night my daughter asked me to help her with her math homework. It was algebra. 2(x5+4x) - 2x = 5x+ 3 - 2(4x+3)....or something like that. I looked at it and panicked. I had flash backs of 8th grade algebra class. My teacher, Mr. Brown in a crisp pink polo shirt that was tucked into neatly ironed khakis. On the first day of school he stood in front of the class with a poster that had magazine cutouts of different images. An airplane, a couple on a beach holding wine glasses, a fancy car. "Do you want a life like this? Nice things. Or do you want to be a loser? You have to work hard in life." He gave us that speech. The impression I got was that if you were bad at algebra you might fall into the loser category. Well. I was bad at algebra and I was pretty sure that Mr. Brown hated me. He would always give me mean looks. I shutter to this day just thinking about it. Oddly enough, my husband also had Mr. Brown for 8th grade algebra. I am traumatized from algebra.

I took the paper and turned to my husband. You have to help her. I can't do it. He was like "okay." He sat down and started talking about excusing his dear aunt Sally and X this and X that. It was like Chinese talk. My daughter was getting so upset. "That's not how we do it. You have to take the pawns...." What? She cried and went to bed crying. My husband went online to figure out how they are doing math. They do hands-on equations which are completely different from how we learned math. It ain't yo mamas 90's algebra. So my husband dedicates his evening to watching Youtube videos and tutorials about hands on equations. It was 10 pm and he comes up to me with my daughter's homework and was like, "I got it! Here - I'll show you." No. Please, don't show me. I am a college educated woman. I served my time. I am not learning anymore algebra. He was annoyed. He wanted to show off his new math skills. So he is in charge of math homework and I am the english and social studies go-to.

Besides homework, things have been mostly uneventful. My daughter was not feeling well yesterday so I took her to the pediatrician. She was so cute in her little owl pajama pants. They wanted to do some tests and we were in the office waiting for results. She really didn't feel good and just wanted to be with her mama. "Mom, can I sit on your lap?" Sure. She crawled onto my lap and I held her like a baby. Except she is huge. She is only 5 inches shorter than me and she weighs 80 pounds.I hand her head under one arm and her long legs hung over the other and she laid her head on my shoulder. The pediatrician came in then and looked at us like me were crazy. I don't care if she's 10 - she's still MY baby.

We got her some medicine and she was feeling better in the evening. We were all pooped and just laying around chatting and talking about school. My older daughter said, "I think that I have health next week." My 8 year old said, "Is that when they teach you where babies come from?" I looked at her, "Where do babies come from?" She sat up confidently. "Well, the man and the woman mix up their DNA together, then the woman gets a baby in her uterus and when it's done - she just like, kinda poops it out of her private area."

I think that is an amazing pick up line. Hey, let's say you and me go back to my place and mix our DNA together.

So, that's whats going down in my house. My daughter's dance is today. It will give me tons of material, I'm sure. Until then....

Breakfast in Bed

                                                          
I came home on Friday evening and was so happy to hang with my family. We did our usual Friday night movie. We actually picked a show. Once Upon a Time. I loved, I am now addicted. We were all watching the show, except for my 10 year old who was sitting alone in the corner with her head phones on watching a show on her phone. I poked her, "Hey, what are you watching?" She looked up, "Once Upon a Time." "But that's what we're watching. Why don't you take you headphones off and just watch it with us?" She looked at me and was like:

So I called her a poopy head. She couldn't hear me because she had her headphones on. Tehe.

We watched Once Upon a Time until our eyes drooped. Then we headed to bed. We were on our way upstairs and my 8 year old said. "Mom, I need to wake up before everyone else because I am going to make you breakfast in bed." Okay, whatever. "Make sure you set the alarm." She did. At 6 am I was awoken to BEEP.BEEP.BEEP. On a Saturday. Welcome to my world.

My 8 year old came in and patted me on the shoulder. "Mama, can you turn on the light in the kitchen for me? It's dark." I dragged myself downstairs and turned on the light. "Just don't use the stove," I muttered and then I climbed back upstairs. I laid back in bed and tried to go back to sleep but I could hear clashing and clanging downstairs. I was a little afraid of what was going on down there but not enough to crawl back out of bed and find out. A few minutes later my daughter emerged with a plate in her hand. "Mama, mama - wake up. I made you breakfast." I sat up and looked at the clock. It was 6:10. I nudged my husband. "Hey, we are getting treated to breakfast in bed." He rubbed his eyes and sat up. My daughter proudly set the plate on my lap. It was 3 Nilla Wafers, a stack of pretzel sticks, and some blue berries and raspberries. I hugged her. "This looks yummy." She was so cute and happy that it didn't even bother me that I was up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning, eating vanilla wafers. It's funny how kids can do that.

She was told in latchkey that she was supposed to do good deeds over the weekend, so breakfast in bed was only the start. She was refilling my drink and helping me. I hope they do that challenge every weekend. For my 10 year old too. Maybe they can challenge her to stop rolling her eyes.

Weekend Getaway

  

This weekend we went away. We needed time alone, just the 4 of us to relax and enjoy each other. The kids had no idea. It was so awesome. We both got up and ready like we were going to work. We dropped the kids off at school and then did all the packing. We picked up my little one first at lunch. She was very confused. "Why are you picking me up?" "Because I missed you." She didn't believe me. She was even more confused when she saw my husband sitting in the car. "What's going on?" I smiled. "We are going to Florida this weekend. We're going to Seaworld, Aquatica, Disney and we are leaving right now." She still was confused, "Really?" Then she screamed. Then we headed to the middle school to get my oldest. She was concerned. "Why are you here? Am I in trouble? Did something bad happen?" She's anxious. We got in the car and I let my little one break the news to her. She covered her mouth and her eyes got really big. Then she did a little happy dance.

We decided to not rush. It's a 5 and a half hour drive but we stopped and had coffee, we had a nice sit down dinner. We decided to take out time and get there when we get there. I made a scavenger game for the kids and we actually had an enjoyable ride.

Our hotel was fabulous. I just picked one near the parks that had a pool. There were multiple restaurants, 3 pools, mini golf, all kinds of activities. We got free quick queue at SeaWorld with our stay, free breakfast. I was very pleasantly surprised. We got our key and went up to the room. It was on the top floor with a gorgeous view of Orlando. It was very nice. The kids explored the place and my little one walked out of the bathroom and said, "Mom, it's your dream come true. There are 2 toilets. One for you and one for dad!" There is this old SNL skit about lovers who love to be together so they get ajoining toilets and we joke when we are both working a lot that we should get toilets next to each other so we can spend more time together. Obviously, my 8 year old takes me seriously. I went in the bathroom and saw a toilet and bidet. "That's a bidet. Not a toilet." "What's a bidet?" I explained it to her and turned it on. The knob was so sensitive the water squirted way up. It would give you a colonic. She looked a little confused. "Can I watch you use it?" Ummmm.....NO. That is disgusting. She was fascinated by it. Later she went to the bathroom and my husband felt the need to yell through the door, "Don't poop in the bidet." I was dying of laughter.

We walked to SeaWorld the next day. We didn't care about the animals. We wanted to go on the rides! We had such a fun time. I went on a roller coaster that made me cry and almost pee my pants. We went on all the rides 2-3 times. We didn't wait in line. We had dinner next to a shark tank. Then we went back to the hotel in the evening and swam in the pool. It was awesome.

The next day we went to Aquatica, which is a huge water park. I was putting sunscreen on the girls and handed it to my husband. "Put on some sunscreen." He gave me his standard response. "Don't tell me what to do." Whatever. He thinks I tell him what to do just because I like to be bossy, but it's not true. I didn't argue with him.

We enjoyed all the water slides and it began to rain in the late afternoon so we headed back and then had dinner at Downtown Disney. We ate crab legs and listened to street performers and made light sabers in the toy store.

When we got back, my husband showed me his horrible sun burn. His first sunburn he has ever had in his life. He was so uncomfortable. Next time, listen to your wide.

Besides the sunburn, it was the perfect weekend. I didn't check my email, read the news, check facebook. The kids were behaved and happy and appreciative. We needed it. Now it's back to the real world. Too bad vacation can't last forever.

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