Showers

                                
I went out of town for work yesterday. Just one night. I used to travel frequently for work and I forgot how amazing it is.

I'm just kidding. It sucks to be away from the kids and people look at you like you are sad when you eat alone in the restaurant but it is nice to have a little break and not have to worry about the dishes and packing lunches. I just left that up to my husband.
                         
I checked in this evening and they acted like I was special because I still have my Diamond status until the end of the year. Soon, I will become a nobody in the eyes of Hilton but for now I still get free bottles of water.

I laid down for a while, worked out and then took a hot shower. I stood in the shower and thought, "This is rare."

I never get a good shower. I always get a cold shower after someone else has taken a shower. My youngest daughter takes a shower in the morning and my husband right after so I take a shower at night. I fight with my oldest daughter about it. Like, every night. I'll go to walk into the shower and she always beats me to it. My husband is always in the other bathroom for years.

I try to lay down the law like a legit parent but she always feeds me some bullshit line like, "But I still have to read and it's getting late and I feel so gross."
I relent, "OK, but make it quick."
"OK," she says.

But she never makes it quick. She makes it the opposite of quick. She stays in the shower forever. I don't know what she does in there. After 15 minutes I'll knock on the door. She screams, "I'm almost done. I'm washing my hair." By almost done, she means 10 more minutes.

If I knock on the door at 15 minutes in and she screams, "I'm shaving my legs!" I know to just give up. I might as well sponge bathe in the kitchen sink. She always comes out with a towel on her head and one around her body. The last clean towels in the house. Every time.

"You took too long," I scowl. She rolls her eyes. Punching urges happen. Then I get to take a shower. It's always lukewarm for 2 minutes before the water gets cold. I rinse my hair in cold water. Then I step out and dry myself off with whatever token damp towel is hanging on the hook. I guess this towel is dry enough.

The sad thing is that it doesn't even bother me anymore. I've accepted it. This is what my life is. But last night I took a LONG hot hotel shower. No one interrupted me. It was glorious. Then I pulled the towel from the rack. It was so dry. I know 28 strangers probably used it before me but screw it. Hotels are so gross. I think everything is covered in invisible jizzle and e.coli poop particles.

Yesterday was a nice vacation from my regular routine. Speaking of vacations, we are going on our cruise in less than 3 weeks. I feel a little overwhelmed with it. I printed packing lists, am working on getting all the kid's homework they need to turn in and need to get a ton of stuff in order at work for when I'm gone. I need a vacation to recover from getting ready from this vacation. First world problems.

The 9 Year Old

    
As you know, I have instituted no-lunch making Friday. Friday morning I handed my 4th grader a few singles and my 6th grader came downstairs with a frown and begrudgingly made her own lunch. I was glad it was Friday. The week was long and trying.

That afternoon I ran into my 4th grader's teacher. She said, "You'll never believe what your daughter did today." Those word instill fear inside of me. Whatever it was, I was not going to be surprised. Nothing she does or says is shocking anymore.

She leaned down to my daughter and said, "Show your mom what you did with your lunch money today." She grinned and said, "I was making it rain."
                          
In front of the class. Her teacher just laughed and laughed. C'mon. Really? I can't imagine what she thinks happens in our house. We are really thug living. Sitting around listening to Petey Pablo, wearing our pinky rings, making it rain.
                                     
That night, I didn't sleep well. I tossed and turned, my ever-growing to-do list ran through my head. I had to get up early to help run an event at the school. When the alarm went off at 5:30 am on Saturday, I groaned and hit SNOOZE. I did this twice before getting up. I sat at the edge of the bed, half asleep, my bones ached. My arthritis has been flaring up bad. I envisioned sitting in an empty kitchen sipping on a hot mug of coffee to get my day started. I finally got up to let the dog out. The minute my feet hit the floor - my 9 year old appeared. Wide awake.

"Good morning, mom!" she said cheerfully. Why?
"Good morning. It's not even 6. Go back to bed, we have a long day in front of us. You need to rest."
"I'm not tired." Of course not.

I went downstairs to let the dog out, put the water on the kettle and then used the bathroom. I am literally sitting on the toilet and I could see my daughters eye through the crack of the door. She wanted to talk to me. It was 6 in the morning and I just wanted to pee alone. "Mom, you need to let the dog in."
"I'm using the bathroom. You let the dog in."
"But it's dark outside and scary."
"Ok."
"Don't forget to let the dog in, mom. The water is boiling too."
"Ok."

I shuffled out of the bathroom to let the dog in. My daughter followed behind, blabbing about something. My brain was not working enough to process. "Honey, I'm a little grumpy this morning. Give me a minute to just have a cup of coffee and then we can talk." No. No such luck.

I was bent over scooping food into the dog's down and she kept tapping me on the back. "Mom, mom - look at my imitation. Mom, watch me. Mom, mom, mom...." I just couldn't take it anymore.

"I don't want to see it right now!" I snapped. Her face totally changed.
                                    
She turned around and walked upstairs. I immediately felt like the worst person in the universe. She loves me. She only wanted to show me her imitation. I thought about the parents who have lost children, or have kids who are sick, or the people who can't have children themselves, and my future self in 10 years. They wouldn't be mean and grumpy to their nine year old. They would be grateful to have a beautiful, healthy child who wants to spend time with them early in the morning.

I made a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table and thought self loathing thoughts for 15 minutes. I am an asshole. Not a nice person. Ungrateful. I hurt my own child's feelings. I rejected her. Bad Mom Award. Afterwards, I did the walk of shame upstairs. I called her over and pulled her onto my lap. Her long legs dangled over me.

"I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. I didn't mean to. I'd like to see your impression." Her eyes brightened. She jumped off my lap, put her hands on her head and ran towards me at full speed. "That was my bull impression," she said proudly.

We went to the school carnival and worked the whole day. The kids played with their friends. My 6th grader got into the dunk tank. It was a beautiful day.

We came home in the afternoon, took a quick shower and then went out to Chinese and then attended the ghost walk - another annual tradition. By the time we got home that evening, I was beat. My body was sore and I was barely keeping my eyes open. I fixed hot chocolate for the kids and went straight to bed. I was asleep by the time my head hit the pillow.

This morning I woke up at 6:30. I was sore all over but grateful that there was not much to do today. The house was quiet. My 9 year old had a friend sleep over so I expected her to sleep for a little while longer. I let the dog out and put on a put on a kettle of water. I exhaled. Finally, I have the house to myself, I thought. That's when I heard footsteps on the staircase. Oh God. No.

My nine year old jumped out from the hallway into the kitchen, "I'm here!" she declared. Jazz hands and the whole thing.
                               
Her friend stood behind her, wide eyed. "Can you make us pancakes?" I was like:
               
I made the pancakes. I set them down on the table as my 9 year old flipped through Southern Living magazine. She pointed to the cover.
"Mom, you need to make this turkey on Thanksgiving."
"I don't think I'm making the turkey."
"YES, you are. You are making this one. And make sure there is no celery in the stuffing. I hate celery."

I glanced over at the microwave. It read 6:52. I wondered if it was too early to drink. I remembered the previous morning and I bit my tongue. I walked over and kissed her on the top of the head. "I'll make sure there is no celery."

The Corn Maze

                                    
We took the kids to the corn maze this weekend. I told my oldest daughter she could invite ONE friend to spend the night and come with us and that next weekend my youngest could invite ONE friend to spend the night and go to the ghost walk.

On Saturday, we went out to buy a new back door. We came home less than an hour later and there were TWO friends at our house. What the hell? I pulled my daughter aside and said, "J has to go home. I told you that you could only have one friend and you invited A a week ago."

This B looked put her head down and said, "Well, she can't go home because her parents went out of town for the weekend."
"What? How? I didn't even talk to her mom."
"It's okay. I talked to her. I told her it was okay."
"But it's not ok. Also, you don't have authority to talk to people's parents like that."
"I didn't know."
She did know. She waited until we left, called her friend and masterminded the whole thing. I was so pissed I couldn't even look at her.
                      
"I was going to get pizza for dinner but now I am making left over pork chops with green beans and I'm going to make you eat ALL of them." I fail at punishments.

The next day we had to take 2 cars since we had three 11 year olds and my 9 year old with us. It's our yearly tradition. This was our 8th year. We remarked at how much it has grown and how crowded it was. We fed the goats and then the girls excitedly ran over to pick out pumpkins to decorate. They picked their pumpkins and found a spot at the long table to paint the pumpkins. They looked HUGE next to the 4,5,6,7 year olds that crowded around them, leaning over to dip their brushes into the paint filled ramekins in the center of the table.

I leaned into my husband, "We have the oldest children here, I think." How did that happen? I could close my eyes and see them there, in that exact spot, 3 and 5 years old in Halloween sweatshirts and I open my eyes and my five foot tall 6th grader is leaning over painting a pumpkin in her converse sneakers next to her friend with fire-engine red dyed hair. It's unreal. Watching the children grow plays tricks with my mind. It's altered my perception of time.

We made our way to the corn maze. It's 3 miles and we sought at all the check points. My oldest daughter insisted on leading the way and would pout when my husband would call her back when she made a wrong turn. We were all exhausted at the end of our journey.

The girls retrieved their pumpkins and we left. Another visit to the corn maze had come and gone.

Today was a typical Monday. Busy,busy, busy. My 11 year old had dance tonight and I spent the evening shuffling her around and running errands. On the way home from dance she somehow convinced me stop at Starbucks to buy her a salted caramel mocha frappucino.
                             
We sat in the car and chatted about school while we waited for drinks. I told her, "I've decided that on Friday I am going to give you girls money for school lunch. If you don't want to do that, you will have to make your own lunch on Fridays."
I f**king hate making lunches. I've been on a crusade to convince my kids that going back to school lunch is acceptable. So far, I have been unsuccessful. It did not go over well.
"No mom. I hate school lunch."
"Okay. You can make your own lunch."
She pouted, "You are so mean."
"What about Hunter? He makes his own lunch every day. Is his mom mean?"
"No."
"Well, then you can make your own lunch on Friday."
She looked at me with begging eyes:



"But mom, lunches just taste better when you make them."

I like her strategy. The doe eyes are had to resist. My husband has a weakness for them. Pandering to my ego was a smart move as well. I give her an A for effort.

"You still are making your own lunch on Friday. Now drink your frappuccino. Your life is not hard." Bad Mom Award.

Halloween Time

A few weeks ago I dragged the containers of Halloween decorations out of my garage to get the house festive for the holidays. I had some costumes mixed in with the decor. I admired the felt poncho I had made for my oldest daughter's preschool Thanksgiving celebration. I ran my fingers over the ribbon trim that looked like beading. It still has the bright colored feathers that I had sewn into the collar. I remember putting in many hours to make it perfect. I was only 24 then. Twenty four with a four year old and a two year old. It seems almost impossible now. That I was ever 24, that the children were ever really that small, how we survived that time.

I pulled out the matching mermaid costumes I had made the first Halloween we spent in South Carolina. We scavenged for shells on the beach and I had sewed them along the waist. There were so many costumes that I had spent so much time on. Why? Why didn't I just get my kids $15 costumes from KMART? Because they never just want something simple. They always want something crazy and specific. "I want to be Link from Zelda but in blue and not green...."

This year I don't want to do it. I want to just buy costumes, carve pumpkins and enjoy life. I was hoping the kids would want to be easy. A witch or a cat, perhaps. NO. For months my youngest wanted to be a zombie Alice and Wonderland WITH a chainsaw. The chainsaw was very important. A few weeks ago she changed her mind and decided to be a Sugar Skull.

My oldest went back and forth but decided to be Dr. Who's assistant since the neighbor boy is being Dr. Who.

The other night I went online to buy the costumes. We sat down and went through our options. My nine year old looked through all the Sugar Skull costumes. She didn't like any of them them. "What I want is a dress that looks like ruffle-y but floral." We looked through floral dresses online. None of them fit her vision. After 40 minutes of going through website after website I said, "Pick a damn sugar skull costume or I'm going to make you wear a sheet over your head for Halloween."

She reluctantly picked one out. Then she insisted on a SPECIFIC type of head band and glow in the dark make up. Not regular- it had to be glow in the dark. It was $56. What the hell. For a costume she's going to wear for like 3 hours.

My oldest NEEDED a specific red shirt and specific tardis earrings. That was another $30. I already got the skirt and she still needs stockings. Unreal. By the end of this costume shopping ordeal I was already pissed off. Then it only got worse.

I pulled out my debit card and went to pay. YOUR PAYMENT CANNOT BE PROCESSED. What? I tried again and got the same message. I figured it was the website. I went to Target.com to complete my order and got the same error. What was going on?

I logged into my bank account. My checking account balance was $0.00.
                        
I clicked on my my transactions. F*cking someone stole our bank card info and spent $1,300 at Sams Club. Drained our checking account. I called the bank and had to file a report.

I was so angry. I want to find that person and key their car, pour sugar in their gas tank, punch them in the face, call their mom a whore, and throw eggs at their house.
              
Who does that? Like, how horrible of a person do you need to be to steal money out of people's bank accounts? That person needs Jesus.

I spent so much time costume shopping and dealing with the bank that I was too tired to fold my laundry. Just over here living the dream.

It's Been A While

It's been a while since I last posted. I know you have been waiting with bated breath to know what is going on in my oh-so-interesting life. The truth is that we've been incredibly busy. Between work, the kids school, shuffling back and forth between gymnastics and dance classes and trying to keep up with the housework - I'm exhausted. I lost my laptop charger for a week. That contributed as well.

It's been an interesting 2 weeks. We weekend after we closed on the house we painted the kids room. They both picked different shades of blue. My oldest wanted a chalkboard wall so that's what she did. She loves it. A few days ago I walked into her room to deposit some folded laundry and I saw a list she had written on the wall.

                                  My Goals
                         1. Play the flute everyday
                         2. Study or fail at life
                         3. Get mom and dad to buy me chocolate

That's it. Just those three things. I couldn't help but laugh out loud. How wonderful to be 11!

My youngest still won't sleep in her room. She makes a pallet on the floor every.night. We've pretty much given up on her sleeping in her room. We're just glad she doesn't sleep in our bed. The other night as she was settling down on the floor my husband asked, "Didn't you want us to re-do your room so you would want to sleep in there."
She looked at him like that was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. "No. I just wanted it to look nice. I never said I wanted to sleep in there."
Well, that was a waste of time and money. I'm about to give that bedroom to my dog but I am still holding out hope that she will sleep in there one day. Surely she won't be sleeping in my room when she's 15?

I don't mind it too much. Tonight as we settled into bed she turned to me with a sweet smile and said, "Mom, when you are in your job outfits you look smart." haha. If that's the case, I have everyone fooled.

Unreasonable Demands

                  
It's was a busy week. We closed on our house on Wednesday which was a f**king nightmare. I got a call 30 minutes before asking why we hadn't wired the closing money over. We were told by our lender to bring a check. Which seemed sketch but they gave me the directions. It wound up being $500 more than we expected. What the hell?

I got home that evening and the minute I walked through the door my nine year old was on me. Not
"hello" just, "We need to go to Office Depot. We need to go to Office Depot right now!"

I collapsed my exhausted body down in the kitchen chair. "What do you need at Office Depot?"
"I need glue, crayons, and a pencil case."
"I just got you all of things when we went back to school shopping last month."
"Well, my glue doesn't work good. Then my crayons got crushed at the bottom of my book bag."

I fail to see how that is my problem. You should have put your crayons in your desk. "What about your pencil case?"
"I just don't like it anymore."
"Why?"
"Because it has pencil marks inside of it."
             
Is she saying she wants a pencil case that won't get pencil marks in it? That's not unreasonable at all.

I took the kid to Office Depot. We picked out the crayons and glue and went to the aisle with pencil cases. She picked them up, examined them, set them back down. "Is this all of them?" she asked.

I asked the worker if there were any other pencil cases. He directed us to an end cap. She browsed the pencil cases there and was not satisfied. Then she got angry. "The pencil case that I want is not here."
She envisioned this pencil case in her had and was mad that it hadn't materialized. I tried to be helpful. "Just pick out another one." She looked at me like I was the worst person and said, "NO! This is all your fault!!!!!!" Lord help me.

Then my 11 year old was trying to convince me that she needed $10 mechanical pencils. "I'm all out of pencils!" she proclaimed. How? I spent $300 on back to school between these two kids just a MONTH ago. I purchased special mechanical pencils for her in addition to the other required pencils. How can she be out of pencils already? I let her get the $5 pencils. I'm a schmuck.

That evening, I laid in bed with my 9 year old and we talked about how she wanted to redecorate her room. I told the kids that I would give them each $500 to redecorate their rooms and they had to stay within budget and could pick out whatever they wanted. For MONTHS they have been talking about it and making wish lists of comforters on Amazon.

So we are laying in bed taking and my little one says, "I want to move my windows." What?!?! Does she think this is the SIMS?
"We can't move the windows."
She started crying. Sobbing. "MY WINDOWS ARE UNEVEN. IT'S NOT FAIR. C ALWAYS GETS THE BEST ROOMS!"

She has one window higher on one wall than the other. It's like a half window. Her sister doesn't always get the best room. We've lived in the same house for 4 and a half years and before that they shared a room and slept in bunk beds for 3 years. She is trippin. She cried hard. I just got up. I didn't even try to console her. I can't deal with her first world problems. Bad Mom Award.