Ahhh - Fall has arrived. The air finally has that lovely snap of chilliness, the awful Maryland humidity is gone, and I find myself longing to bake some sort of yummy treat made entirely out of apples, butter, sugar and cinnamon. But let's get real Peeps - that yummy concoction will not be baked this fall. Nope - 'cause this fall Busy Momma doesn't have time to EAT an apple - much less peel it, slice it, dice it and bake it up in a freaking pie.
With the waning of long, hot and lazy summer days - a new Momma has come to town. This Momma has no time to lounge by the pool - ok not that Summer Momma had much time for that. Nope - Fall Momma is all about the schedule. And let me tell you - it takes the nerves and know-how of an air-traffic controller to handle our schedule this fall.
See, the chaos began when Bella innocently decided to play field hockey this fall instead of dancing. Cool - right? Shaking things up a bit is healthy - right? Exploring other interests can only help kids maximimze their true potential - correct?
OK - I'm here to tell you that all of that jargon is a load of stinking, fly-infested horse manure. I am now convinced that all of those "parenting experts" who wrote the books that I read when the kids were small who told me to "encourge them to explore their interests" and "support them as they spread their wings and fly out of the nest in the direction that THEY want to go" are in fact, sadists who DO NOT HAVE ANY CHILDREN OF THEIR OWN! Because, Dear Readers, if they did, they would realize that allowing kids to participate in all of the activities they are interested in leads to COMPLETE AND TOTAL CHAOS! And, complete and total chaos leads to MOMMY MELT-DOWN.
What is Mommy Melt-Down? OMG - it is quite possibly the scariest thing ever. I know - because I can see the terror in PC's eyes as Mommy Melt-Down occurs. And it's been happening alot lately. Actually - it happened just today. This is what today's Mommy Melt-Down looked and sounded like:
The scene: PC is home with the kids while Busy Momma is working late.
The event: Busy Momma is speaking in front of a group, when she looks at the wall clock and realizes that she has gone 30 minutes over her contracted time with these people and has thrown today's after-school activity schedule into complete disarray. She quickly, yet brilliantly wraps up her talk and runs out the door while the people are still clapping. (And calling her name...concert style when the audience wants an encore...ok, maybe not. But one lady was sort of clapping - or perhaps her hand had fallen asleep. But I digress...)
Busy Momma rushes into the car and speed dials PC's cell - which he does not answer. G Damnit! Where is he? Whay does he have a %#$&*^# cell phone if he never answers it????? She dials the home number and once again - no answer. By now, Busy Momma is worked into a COMPLETE LATHER because Jack has to be at his very first Tiger Cub Scout meeting in 5...no, 4 minutes. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
So, Busy Momma does what any reasonable woman in her situation would do - she peels out of the parking lot - Indy car style - makes an illegal left turn into ONCOMING TRAFFIC and uses her 2 - yes, I have 2 - Crackberries to simultanelously call and text PC - while driving.
I know, I know... don't tell Oprah on me.
FINALLY - on the 3rd or 4th attempt at his cell phone - PC picks up and says in his ultra serious voice :
"What's wrong?"
Now, a normal person would have calmly explained the situation and asked PC to take Jack to scouts. However - Mommy Melt-Down was in FULL swing. From what I can remember, I think I yelled something about "WHY DON'T YOU ANSWER YOUR CELL PHONE WHEN I CALL IT? DO YOU THINK I AM JUST CALLING YOU TO TELL YOU WHAT GREAT 80's SONG I JUST HEARD ON THE RADIO?????????????????????? NO, OK? NO! JACK HAS TO BE AT HIS SCOUT MEETING A MINUTE AGO AND IF YOU HAD ANSWERED YOUR CELL PHONE THE FIRST 2 TIMES I CALLED IT HE WOULDN"T BE THE LOSER KID WHOSE PARENTS CAN'T GET HIM TO ANYTHING ON TIME WALKING LATE INTO THE FIRST MEETING!"
Then in what can only be described as a voice that would come out of someone an excorsist would be frightened of, I shouted out the address of the leader and screamed: "GET HIM OVER THERE! NOW!!! GO!GO!GO!"
PC's response?
"Um, ok. Let me finish up what I'm doing here."
NOT the CORRECT ANSWER.
I don't honestly remember exactly what I lovingly said - which I'm kind of sure was pretty bat-shit crazy. All I remember PC calmly saying is:
"Babe, I'm in the bathroom right now. I really need to finish what I started."
At the end of the day, Jack got to his meeting - just in time to have his snack and learn the Tiger Scout sign and pledge. At least that's what PC told me. Why wasn't I at the meeting? Because I was driving to outter Ish-Ka-Bibble to purchase Jack's Tiger Scout shirt, belt, patches and paraphenalia for his adventures in scouting. That's right - LAME PARENT that I am - my kid didn't even have his uniform for the first meeting.
What is happening to me? I am NOT this parent - I'm not. But I'm going to be honest folks - Fall is KICKING my ASS. Bella has Scouts one night a week, Field Hockey 2 nights a week PLUS a game every Sunday. Jack has soccer practice once a week, a game every Saturday morning and now Scouts once every other week. Combine that with my CRAZY work schedule, torturous 4th grade homework and Jack's slightly less-torturous 1st grade homework - plus his Religious Ed program - and I am longing for summer. And it's only been fall for about 48 hours.
I KNOW that I am NOT the ONLY Mom who is going through this. I was venting to a gal-pal about this a few days ago and she said:
"It's only Wednesday of the first week of school - GOD I HATE this week. I HATE this Month."
As do we all Sister, as do we all. Why do all of the after-school activities have to start at the same time as school? Can't they let us get back into our groove for a month or so and THEN start up the activities? Nope - why not add insult to injury and go for the gold? Let's try to INDUCE Mommy Melt-Downs on entire communities - entire goegraphical areas - by insisting that soccer, football and field hockey practices all start the same week, the same day AND at the same time. And for the fun of it - let's throw in Girl Scout Cookie sales and booths, a first project and a couple of tests for good measure - all by the 6th consecutive day of school. I can't take it anymore!!!!!
What's a Momma to do?
I saw an interesting news item on GMA this morning. A woman who had been pretty famous in the 80's and 90's has completely gone "off the grid". This woman was worth 200 million dollars at the height of her fame. Today - she lives in the middle of the desert, in a home made entirely out of recycled materials and has NO electricity or running water. She has an outhouse. Quite literally - an OUTHOUSE.
She claims that she and her kids are happy as clams, that she has chosen this life for herself and that it is peaceful and quiet and wonderful.
PC was watching with me and said something to the effect of:
"What a nutcase."
I said:
"I know"
I was thinking:
"God - that would be AWESOME. She doesn't have to worry about GS cookies and sewing on merit badges and earning something called a totem and pissing the field hockey coach off and yadda yadda yadda. I wonder how I could do that same thing only with running water, Facebook and a nearby Target?"
Friday, October 1, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
It's a bird...It's a plane....oh wait - it's just Mom
So, the other night I was awoken from a lovely, delicious slumber by the sound every parent dreads.
No, not the nauseating sounds of Justin Beiber's latest ditty -I was awoken by a cry in the night. And not just a cry - a shrill, screaming "Mommmmmmmmmmyyyyyyy" accompanied by shrieking, wailing and moaning. So, like any other mother, I FLEW out of bed, into Jack's room and up the ladder to his loft bed. Thankfully, there was no vomit. (Usually, in my house, that level of night-time hysterics is accomanied by a bed full of last night's dinner. But not this time. ) Apparently, Jack was in the midst of a terrible dream that seemed to have involved an alligator, a dinosaur AND a lion - all hungry and craving a "Jack sandwich". So, I did some rocking and some singing and some back-rubbing and all was well.
And as I trudged back to bed - a bed that contained a snoring, undisturbed PC - I started wondering how many other Mommies were doing the exact same thing - at the exact same moment. I wondered how many of us were awake, soothing a teething baby, trying to get a fever down, spraying "monster away" spray under beds and into closets or trying to extricate a tiny tooth from under a pillow and replace it with a bill all while remaining silent and not disturbing the sleeping toothless wonder.
And as I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling fan, because now I was totally awake, I started to think about how we Mommies are real-life super-heroes. Sure, Sly Stallone and Bruce Willis can play the ROLE of a big, strong super-hero....with the help of a special effects team and make-up artisits. But we Mommies are the real deal. Don't agree with me? Well, consider these lesser-known, but vitally important heroes - and then tell me that Mommies aren't Honest-to-Goodness heroes:
1. Captain Comet and her identical twin Lady Lysol : Captain Comet and Lady Lysol are the daring duo who manage to clean the toilet, floor and sink that the entire family threw up into for the past 48 hours while the stomach flu was raging through the household. Without this brave twosome, the entire family would continue to reinfect each other with nastiness for days on end. Keep in mind, that while cleaning and disinfecting - these two are also under the weather, but their motto is" A Mom's gotta do what a Mom's gotta do." Also keep in mind that Captain Comet/Lady Lysol's life partner - let's call him Whining Baby-Face - is in bed with slight nausea while Captain Comet is cleaning with a 101 degree fever......
2. Homework Girl: Homework Girl is the hero who always remembers to check everyone's assignment pad and every teacher's website to ensure that all members of the household are prepared and organized for the week. Homework girl averts dangerous situations - like child A remembering that she has a Social Studies test today while on the way to school....or child B remembering that his volcano project is due tomorrow - at 10 pm. Homework Girl also makes sure that there are copious amounts of sharpened pencils, glue sticks and loose leaf paper available in the house at all times. Homework Girl can often be found hunched over a semi-destroyed "Ancient Civilizations" poster, solar-system model missing a few planets or a half-crushed "Life in a Woodland Indian Village" diorama, breathing life back into it.
3. Dinner Diva: The Dinner Diva is the hero who makes sure that a hot, healthy meal appears on the table EVERY night at 6 o'clock...regardless if she is there to share it. The Dinner Diva can often be found in the kitchen late, late at night chopping veggies and carmelizing a pot roast before she puts it into the crock-pot for the next night's dinner. The Dinner Diva has also been spotted making dinner at 9am, wrapping and refridgerating it while leaving meticulous reheating instructions for her helper -The Reheating Raptor.
4. The Fish-Fixer: This is a very special brand of super-hero. This is the woman, who sees nothing wrong with walking into PetSmart with a dead Japanese Fighting Fish in a Ziplock baggie so that she can find it's EXACT twin and replace it before her four-year old discovers that "Mo", his beloved fishie, has gone to the great fishbowl in the sky.
5. The Dream-Weaver: the Dream Weaver is the hero who can "fix" a bad dream. This is the hero who sleeps on the floor next to a screaming child who INSISTS that green monkeys are coming to get her and feed her to their master - The Lion-Headed Mushy-Man. During the day, the Dream Weaver can often be found in the drive-thru line at Dunkin Doughnuts ordering 3 large coffees so that she can fulfill the rest of her daytime duties. The Dream-Weaver carries a unique Tool-Kit. In this magical kit, one can find "Monster-Away" spray...that smells amazingly like the body spray her mother-in-Law gave her last year for Mother's Day, "The Dream Sucker" that sucks the bad dreams right out of your head via your ears. While this device looks amazingly like the nasal aspirator that came with a baby first aid kit - be warned - it is not. It is a very specialized piece of equiptment and can ONLY be operated by THE DREAM WEAVER.
6. Tantrum Tamer: This one is self-explanatory
7. Captain Cash - Captain Cash is truly amazing. She can make $100.00 last for 10 days until Mom or Dad gets paid. She can stretch that $100.00 so that it can feed the family for 2 weeks, pay for a Girl Scout trip AND make a classmate very happy with a nice birthday gift. Captain Cash is truly amazing.
And I'm sure I have left a few heroes off of this list. But you get the idea.... While the above mentioned heroes might not have embellished capes, shiny, thigh-high boots (Thank God!) or cool cars that fly and turn into submarines - they are heroes none-the-less. If you don't believe me - just try living WITHOUT them and see how well you do!
No, not the nauseating sounds of Justin Beiber's latest ditty -I was awoken by a cry in the night. And not just a cry - a shrill, screaming "Mommmmmmmmmmyyyyyyy" accompanied by shrieking, wailing and moaning. So, like any other mother, I FLEW out of bed, into Jack's room and up the ladder to his loft bed. Thankfully, there was no vomit. (Usually, in my house, that level of night-time hysterics is accomanied by a bed full of last night's dinner. But not this time. ) Apparently, Jack was in the midst of a terrible dream that seemed to have involved an alligator, a dinosaur AND a lion - all hungry and craving a "Jack sandwich". So, I did some rocking and some singing and some back-rubbing and all was well.
And as I trudged back to bed - a bed that contained a snoring, undisturbed PC - I started wondering how many other Mommies were doing the exact same thing - at the exact same moment. I wondered how many of us were awake, soothing a teething baby, trying to get a fever down, spraying "monster away" spray under beds and into closets or trying to extricate a tiny tooth from under a pillow and replace it with a bill all while remaining silent and not disturbing the sleeping toothless wonder.
And as I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling fan, because now I was totally awake, I started to think about how we Mommies are real-life super-heroes. Sure, Sly Stallone and Bruce Willis can play the ROLE of a big, strong super-hero....with the help of a special effects team and make-up artisits. But we Mommies are the real deal. Don't agree with me? Well, consider these lesser-known, but vitally important heroes - and then tell me that Mommies aren't Honest-to-Goodness heroes:
1. Captain Comet and her identical twin Lady Lysol : Captain Comet and Lady Lysol are the daring duo who manage to clean the toilet, floor and sink that the entire family threw up into for the past 48 hours while the stomach flu was raging through the household. Without this brave twosome, the entire family would continue to reinfect each other with nastiness for days on end. Keep in mind, that while cleaning and disinfecting - these two are also under the weather, but their motto is" A Mom's gotta do what a Mom's gotta do." Also keep in mind that Captain Comet/Lady Lysol's life partner - let's call him Whining Baby-Face - is in bed with slight nausea while Captain Comet is cleaning with a 101 degree fever......
2. Homework Girl: Homework Girl is the hero who always remembers to check everyone's assignment pad and every teacher's website to ensure that all members of the household are prepared and organized for the week. Homework girl averts dangerous situations - like child A remembering that she has a Social Studies test today while on the way to school....or child B remembering that his volcano project is due tomorrow - at 10 pm. Homework Girl also makes sure that there are copious amounts of sharpened pencils, glue sticks and loose leaf paper available in the house at all times. Homework Girl can often be found hunched over a semi-destroyed "Ancient Civilizations" poster, solar-system model missing a few planets or a half-crushed "Life in a Woodland Indian Village" diorama, breathing life back into it.
3. Dinner Diva: The Dinner Diva is the hero who makes sure that a hot, healthy meal appears on the table EVERY night at 6 o'clock...regardless if she is there to share it. The Dinner Diva can often be found in the kitchen late, late at night chopping veggies and carmelizing a pot roast before she puts it into the crock-pot for the next night's dinner. The Dinner Diva has also been spotted making dinner at 9am, wrapping and refridgerating it while leaving meticulous reheating instructions for her helper -The Reheating Raptor.
4. The Fish-Fixer: This is a very special brand of super-hero. This is the woman, who sees nothing wrong with walking into PetSmart with a dead Japanese Fighting Fish in a Ziplock baggie so that she can find it's EXACT twin and replace it before her four-year old discovers that "Mo", his beloved fishie, has gone to the great fishbowl in the sky.
5. The Dream-Weaver: the Dream Weaver is the hero who can "fix" a bad dream. This is the hero who sleeps on the floor next to a screaming child who INSISTS that green monkeys are coming to get her and feed her to their master - The Lion-Headed Mushy-Man. During the day, the Dream Weaver can often be found in the drive-thru line at Dunkin Doughnuts ordering 3 large coffees so that she can fulfill the rest of her daytime duties. The Dream-Weaver carries a unique Tool-Kit. In this magical kit, one can find "Monster-Away" spray...that smells amazingly like the body spray her mother-in-Law gave her last year for Mother's Day, "The Dream Sucker" that sucks the bad dreams right out of your head via your ears. While this device looks amazingly like the nasal aspirator that came with a baby first aid kit - be warned - it is not. It is a very specialized piece of equiptment and can ONLY be operated by THE DREAM WEAVER.
6. Tantrum Tamer: This one is self-explanatory
7. Captain Cash - Captain Cash is truly amazing. She can make $100.00 last for 10 days until Mom or Dad gets paid. She can stretch that $100.00 so that it can feed the family for 2 weeks, pay for a Girl Scout trip AND make a classmate very happy with a nice birthday gift. Captain Cash is truly amazing.
And I'm sure I have left a few heroes off of this list. But you get the idea.... While the above mentioned heroes might not have embellished capes, shiny, thigh-high boots (Thank God!) or cool cars that fly and turn into submarines - they are heroes none-the-less. If you don't believe me - just try living WITHOUT them and see how well you do!
Saturday, September 18, 2010
When there are no words....
So a few weeks ago, I found myself with the unenviable task of sitting down and writing not one, but TWO sympathy notes. One was to a neighbor whose dad had passed away at the ripe, old age of 87. He was surrounded by his family at the time of his death and was given the opportunity to say goodbye to everyone he loved. Sad? Of course. Tragic? For his children and loved ones, yes - but on the scale of tragedies - not so much. The other note, unfortunately, was to an associate in a very different situation. A situation so tragic, unenviable and unbelievable, I would not wish it on my worst enemy. To say this situation was a "worst nightmare" scenario doesn't really fit the bill - because very few of us have nightmares that would involve what these people have had to endure for the past several months. Their situation made headlines - national headlines - and made them outcasts in their community. And the culmination to their saga was tragic and wrong and unimaginable to me as a human being, but especially as a parent.
So, as I sat looking down at my $3.00 Hallmark generic sympathy card - I was struck with a serious case of writer's block. And for those of you are are kind enough to read my blog - you know that words don't often fail me. But, in this case - I had nothing. Nothing to say, nothing to write, no words of comfort or wisdom. What to do? In the end, I scribbled something about hoping that time would soothe their wounds and that they would find peace once again thru God's grace. But as I agonized over what to say, I kept thinking that nothing that I could say would possibly make any difference to these people. And I'm sure that it didn't. I just wanted them to know that they were being prayed for and thought about with kindness and compassion.
Unfortunately, this was not the first time in my life where there were literally, just no words. Many of you have read about and know my good pal - Xena, the warrior princess. I call her Xena in the blog, because she truly is one of the strongest, bravest women I know. I first met Xena when we were relaitively new teachers. She taught first grade and I taught second in a school that could probably be plopped down in the middle of any inner city in America and fit right in. To say that that experience was tough, is an understatement. So, we immediately bonded as soldiers in a foxhole wind up being bonded and remain friends for life. We've been through alot together - lots of laughter, and unfortunately, many tears. We've been at each other's weddings, we've attended funerals together, we've been through babies and pregnancies galore, new houses, fights with our spouses, christenings, weight gain and weight loss - the typical joys and difficulties of life and especially motherhood. Xena is a member of my "inner circle" along with Sookie, Glynnis, her Awesomeness, Carrie, Carrie's sister Kelly, Fifi, Hermione and the gang. We have very few secrets and I'm so fortunate to have her and the rest of the girls in my life.
So, when Xena called me one fine morning almost 7 years ago to tell me that she was expecting baby #2, I was THRILLED for her. I was about 4 months along with Jack, Carrie had just had her third baby - life was good for The Busy Momma and her gang. Unfortunately, about 4 months later, life was about to throw Xena a curveball. When she went for her sonogram at 16 weeks, the baby wasn't measuring correctly. His head was a bit too large, his arms and legs were a bit too short - something was amiss. In typical Xena style - she jumped right on it and found the best doctors she could find and she went hither and yon to have these test results confirmed and interpreted. And the results were heartbreakingly shocking. While doctors could not tell her EXACTLY what was wrong, they were able to confirm that Xena's baby was going to suffer from dwarfism. The exact type of dwarfism would remain unclear until further testing could be done after his birth - but it was confirmed that he would suffer from this rare genetic condition. Needless to say, Xena and her husband and family were shell -shocked and heartbroken.
As her friends - we were also shell-shocked and heartbroken. How the heck did THAT happen? What would this mean for our friend? What would this mean for her family? For her older child? How could we support her through the rest of this pregnancy? What would she need from us? What could we say to her to bring her comfort?
About 5 months later her beautiful, strong, amazing, resilient boy was born. He was born with many more problems and complications than were even anticipated, and there was a good stretch of time when we weren't sure that he was going to make it. Which, looking back was kind of silly of us. Xena is SO strong, we should have realized that any child that she gives birth to will have her strength! Despite dire predictions, her boy made it. He has had to endure painful, agonizing surgeries, countless blooddraws and tests, he wears hearing aids and glasses, used a feeding tube for many years and countless other painful and expensive trials over the past 6 years. But I am thrilled to report that Jack and I watched him blow out the candles on his 6th birthday cake last weekend.
So, the question is - how did we handle these trials and tribulations with our friend? How well did we support her? Well, I can't speak for the other girls - but I'd give myself a B minus. I did my very best and I offered the help I thought she needed, but I made mistakes along the way. And I think one of the hallmarks of our friendship is that Xena can tell me what I did right and what I did wrong. And I think that illuminating the mistakes that I've made along the way might help other people avoid them.
Many of you know me personally. If you do - then you know that I show care and concern the only way I know how - with food. You know you're loved if you get Nanny's Soda Bread delivered to your door. So, while Xena and her husband were shuttling back and forth to the NICU at Hopkins - I was cooking and baking. Everytime I worried about her, I made a lasagna, a baked ziti, a soda bread, muffins, cakes, cookies, nacho pie...things that she could put in the freezer and pull out when she tired of fast food. I had my cleaning lady go to her house and clean for her. I did her grocery shopping for her, offered to go over and do the laundry. Things that I thought she needed. And while she appreciated everything that her circle of friends did for her - we were missing the mark. As we were filling her freezer - SHE needed us to be filling her soul. Think about it - how many lasagnas and baked zitis does one family really need? She needed company as she sat for hours by the crib of her fragile baby as the babies that surrounded him in the NICU died - right in front of her - each and every week. It never occurred to me to go down and sit with her. I didn't want to intrude. I didn't realize that Xena would have told me if I was intruding. It never occurred to me to ask her what she really needed. Instead, I gave her what I thought she needed. And that's not to say that she didn't need food and practical support - because she did. And she appreciated it. I just wish that instead of making one more lasagna, that I'd spent that time sitting by the baby's crib with her.
I think part of the reason why I didn't go to the hospital was because I didn't know what to say to her. I had a perfectly healthy, if somewhat colicky baby boy at home. What do you say to another mother who is praying that her baby makes it through the night? It was MUCH easier to make taco pie than sit with the silence.
Now, plenty of people did a FAR worse job than I did. Xena says that people just stopped calling and coming by all together. She lost many friends throughout that dark and frightening first year of her new life. They just stopped talking to her. Hard to believe? Yes. Easy to explain away - sure. They didn't know WHAT TO SAY. Because in this case, there were just no words. And that makes people uneasy. And then, there were the people who said DREADFUL, HORRIBLE, insanely cruel and stupid things to her. Someone actually told her that when they heard about her situation that they could truly understand why some people had abortions. This lovely tidbit came from a FAMILY MEMBER. People would look at her and the baby in an elevator and say things like "What's wrong with your baby?". A receptionist at a doctor's office actually told her that she needed to "get her priorities straight" as she tried to schedule an appointment around her work schedule. Imagine - having to go back to work during all of this because your medical bills were unreal - even with some of the best insurance money could buy. There are countless other indignities she has had to suffer, and I'm sure will continue to suffer throughout the coming years.
I guess my point in writing this post - other than to send a shout out to the best and strongest mom that I know- is to encourage you, my dear readers, to ask the right questions in times of tragedy. Instead of assuming that we know what a friend in crisis needs, ask her what she needs. The greatest lesson I've learned from Xena is that you need to BE THERE - physically BE THERE for your friends - even if you don't know what to say. It's better to say "I just don't know what to say to you - but I love you and I'm here for you" than to not say anything at all.
So, as I sat looking down at my $3.00 Hallmark generic sympathy card - I was struck with a serious case of writer's block. And for those of you are are kind enough to read my blog - you know that words don't often fail me. But, in this case - I had nothing. Nothing to say, nothing to write, no words of comfort or wisdom. What to do? In the end, I scribbled something about hoping that time would soothe their wounds and that they would find peace once again thru God's grace. But as I agonized over what to say, I kept thinking that nothing that I could say would possibly make any difference to these people. And I'm sure that it didn't. I just wanted them to know that they were being prayed for and thought about with kindness and compassion.
Unfortunately, this was not the first time in my life where there were literally, just no words. Many of you have read about and know my good pal - Xena, the warrior princess. I call her Xena in the blog, because she truly is one of the strongest, bravest women I know. I first met Xena when we were relaitively new teachers. She taught first grade and I taught second in a school that could probably be plopped down in the middle of any inner city in America and fit right in. To say that that experience was tough, is an understatement. So, we immediately bonded as soldiers in a foxhole wind up being bonded and remain friends for life. We've been through alot together - lots of laughter, and unfortunately, many tears. We've been at each other's weddings, we've attended funerals together, we've been through babies and pregnancies galore, new houses, fights with our spouses, christenings, weight gain and weight loss - the typical joys and difficulties of life and especially motherhood. Xena is a member of my "inner circle" along with Sookie, Glynnis, her Awesomeness, Carrie, Carrie's sister Kelly, Fifi, Hermione and the gang. We have very few secrets and I'm so fortunate to have her and the rest of the girls in my life.
So, when Xena called me one fine morning almost 7 years ago to tell me that she was expecting baby #2, I was THRILLED for her. I was about 4 months along with Jack, Carrie had just had her third baby - life was good for The Busy Momma and her gang. Unfortunately, about 4 months later, life was about to throw Xena a curveball. When she went for her sonogram at 16 weeks, the baby wasn't measuring correctly. His head was a bit too large, his arms and legs were a bit too short - something was amiss. In typical Xena style - she jumped right on it and found the best doctors she could find and she went hither and yon to have these test results confirmed and interpreted. And the results were heartbreakingly shocking. While doctors could not tell her EXACTLY what was wrong, they were able to confirm that Xena's baby was going to suffer from dwarfism. The exact type of dwarfism would remain unclear until further testing could be done after his birth - but it was confirmed that he would suffer from this rare genetic condition. Needless to say, Xena and her husband and family were shell -shocked and heartbroken.
As her friends - we were also shell-shocked and heartbroken. How the heck did THAT happen? What would this mean for our friend? What would this mean for her family? For her older child? How could we support her through the rest of this pregnancy? What would she need from us? What could we say to her to bring her comfort?
About 5 months later her beautiful, strong, amazing, resilient boy was born. He was born with many more problems and complications than were even anticipated, and there was a good stretch of time when we weren't sure that he was going to make it. Which, looking back was kind of silly of us. Xena is SO strong, we should have realized that any child that she gives birth to will have her strength! Despite dire predictions, her boy made it. He has had to endure painful, agonizing surgeries, countless blooddraws and tests, he wears hearing aids and glasses, used a feeding tube for many years and countless other painful and expensive trials over the past 6 years. But I am thrilled to report that Jack and I watched him blow out the candles on his 6th birthday cake last weekend.
So, the question is - how did we handle these trials and tribulations with our friend? How well did we support her? Well, I can't speak for the other girls - but I'd give myself a B minus. I did my very best and I offered the help I thought she needed, but I made mistakes along the way. And I think one of the hallmarks of our friendship is that Xena can tell me what I did right and what I did wrong. And I think that illuminating the mistakes that I've made along the way might help other people avoid them.
Many of you know me personally. If you do - then you know that I show care and concern the only way I know how - with food. You know you're loved if you get Nanny's Soda Bread delivered to your door. So, while Xena and her husband were shuttling back and forth to the NICU at Hopkins - I was cooking and baking. Everytime I worried about her, I made a lasagna, a baked ziti, a soda bread, muffins, cakes, cookies, nacho pie...things that she could put in the freezer and pull out when she tired of fast food. I had my cleaning lady go to her house and clean for her. I did her grocery shopping for her, offered to go over and do the laundry. Things that I thought she needed. And while she appreciated everything that her circle of friends did for her - we were missing the mark. As we were filling her freezer - SHE needed us to be filling her soul. Think about it - how many lasagnas and baked zitis does one family really need? She needed company as she sat for hours by the crib of her fragile baby as the babies that surrounded him in the NICU died - right in front of her - each and every week. It never occurred to me to go down and sit with her. I didn't want to intrude. I didn't realize that Xena would have told me if I was intruding. It never occurred to me to ask her what she really needed. Instead, I gave her what I thought she needed. And that's not to say that she didn't need food and practical support - because she did. And she appreciated it. I just wish that instead of making one more lasagna, that I'd spent that time sitting by the baby's crib with her.
I think part of the reason why I didn't go to the hospital was because I didn't know what to say to her. I had a perfectly healthy, if somewhat colicky baby boy at home. What do you say to another mother who is praying that her baby makes it through the night? It was MUCH easier to make taco pie than sit with the silence.
Now, plenty of people did a FAR worse job than I did. Xena says that people just stopped calling and coming by all together. She lost many friends throughout that dark and frightening first year of her new life. They just stopped talking to her. Hard to believe? Yes. Easy to explain away - sure. They didn't know WHAT TO SAY. Because in this case, there were just no words. And that makes people uneasy. And then, there were the people who said DREADFUL, HORRIBLE, insanely cruel and stupid things to her. Someone actually told her that when they heard about her situation that they could truly understand why some people had abortions. This lovely tidbit came from a FAMILY MEMBER. People would look at her and the baby in an elevator and say things like "What's wrong with your baby?". A receptionist at a doctor's office actually told her that she needed to "get her priorities straight" as she tried to schedule an appointment around her work schedule. Imagine - having to go back to work during all of this because your medical bills were unreal - even with some of the best insurance money could buy. There are countless other indignities she has had to suffer, and I'm sure will continue to suffer throughout the coming years.
I guess my point in writing this post - other than to send a shout out to the best and strongest mom that I know- is to encourage you, my dear readers, to ask the right questions in times of tragedy. Instead of assuming that we know what a friend in crisis needs, ask her what she needs. The greatest lesson I've learned from Xena is that you need to BE THERE - physically BE THERE for your friends - even if you don't know what to say. It's better to say "I just don't know what to say to you - but I love you and I'm here for you" than to not say anything at all.
Friday, August 13, 2010
The Mommy Wars!
So - I get this 911 voice mail and email from Fifi today. She is in an all-out LATHER because "The Emperor's birthday" is coming up and he wants a "bug cake", ("The Emperor" is her son) and Fifi - baker EXTRAORDINAIRRE - cannot figure out how to decorate this cake. This is Fifi we're talking about. The woman who can simultaneously arrange a party for 250 on a yacht off the coast of Santa Barbara, manage international travel for a group of 12 persnickity high rollers, coordinate every aspect of the opening of a new branch in Vegas WHILE training a new assistant. Fifi who has also taken pastry and baking classes in France at whatever the hell that famous pastry school in France is - La Snotty Snooty Snootery de la Pattiserrie. I think that's what it's called. Or maybe Le Cordon Bleu - come to think of it - I think that's the actual name of the place. Anyway - I digress. So here she is - on her way to work this morning, all lathered up about - a bug cake. For a child's birthday party. At Chuck-E-Cheese.
So, like the bestest friend in the whole world that I am - I solve her problem immediately. I say: "Um, why not do what I do and let the BAKER at the BAKERY solve this problem for you?" I shout BAKER and BAKERY at her like she is my 99-year old grandmother. Slowly and very, very LOUDLY. I did not expect her to embrace this suggestion. I expected her to say something like: "Margs - I am Fifi - baker extraordinairre! I do not know of this establishment you speak of - what is a bakery? I am a much better baker than all of the bakers in the Santa Monica area. I am classically trained and my baking puts them all to shame."
Her response was rather shocking. She said, and I quote: "Clearly YOU have not been a working mom for as long as I have, and you do not yet have the guilt of not being there for every school function, every after school activity, every fundraiser, nor do you have the overwhelming need to prove yourself to the Stay at Home moms. All of this will come in due time, young Padawan. Just you wait. So you see, this bug cake HAS TO BE PERFECT, and every child at this party has to think, "I wish my mom could make a cool cake like that.", so that I get a little bit of cred in my favor before the school year starts and I slip into bad working mom decline. Remember - it's NEVER just about the cake."
Hmmmm. So, my Fifi will be spending the weekend with sheets and tubes of fondant and experimenting with all sorts of creepy, crawly creations to decorate the Emperor's cake - which, I have absolutely NO doubt, will be the BEST damned bug cake Santa Monica will have EVER seen. I also have no doubt that Fifi will return to work on Monday with a ruined manicure, hands dyed the color of dirty dish water and circles the size of saucers under her eyes - but that cake will look amazing.
And all of this leaves me with a kind of sad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Why are we STILL fighting the Mommy Wars? In the past 2 or 3 years, so many moms have had to go back to work because of this crappy economy. Jobs and entire industries that were once secure and sure bets have gone up in smoke. Our nation is teetering on the edge of another Great Depression and you mean to tell me that there are STILL women out there who look DOWN on those of us who are out there bringing home the bacon and then busting our asses to get home so that we can fry it up in the pan? Seriously?
Look - there is nothing wrong with staying home with the kids. I did it for many, many years. And I loved it...most days. It's hard, hard work. I'd say that it's harder than many of the jobs that I've ever had! It's certainly the MOST IMPORTANT job that I've ever had - and it still is. But many, many women do not have the luxury of having the choice to stay home with their kids. And there are some women out there who - GASP - don't want to!!! DUM-DUM-DUM!!! Newsflash - that doesn't make them crappy mothers. It makes them human.
I just think that it's sad that someone like Fifi - who is brilliant at what she does, has a million other talents and gifts and - oh by the way- is a kick-ass mother - feels like she has to turn into the freaking Cake Boss to prove something to the Stay at Home moms in her son's school community. It sucks - yet it's reality.
I remember freaking out right before walking out to do a MILLION DOLLAR sales presentation this past March. Why, are you asking, was the Busy Momma freaking out? Was she nervous about the BIGGEST presentation of her entire career? Nope - I mean I was nervous about it - but I wasn't freaking out about it. No - I was freaking out because it was the third grader's day to host the Lenten Bake Sale for charity and as I was not home the night before to bake anything - PC did what any normal, rational male would do - he went to Safeway, bought a box of Ding Dongs, threw them in Bella's book bag and called it a day.
Bella's contribution to the Bake Sale was a box of Ding Dongs.
Ding Dongs.
Here's the problem - we don't hand in premade things like Ding Dongs. Or, shall I say, before I went back to work, we NEVER handed in things like Ding Dongs for the bake sale. Only Moms who didn't care handed in thoughtless things like Ding Dongs. I mean any DING DONG can run to Safeway and get a thing of Ding Dongs, right? We handed in homemade cupcakes with tyedyed icing, or witch cupcakes or other such projects that kept me up into the wee small hours of the morning trying to out do the other moms. For what? What prize did I EVER get for staying up all night long to make 75 cupcakes with little edible daisies on them?
So I'm just as guilty as Fifi in this arena. But here is the question that I pose to you - loyal readers: Are the Mommy Wars real? Do you think anyone looked at Bella's box of Ding Dongs and thought: "Oh look - poor Bella. Her Mom WORKS. She doesn't have time to bake for the bake sale. Wonder what else she doesn't have time for?" Do you think anyone at The Emperor's birthday party would look at a bakery cake and think: "Oh look - Fifi went to the BAKERY. Well of course, she WORKS - what would you expect?" Do we put this pressure on ourselves?
So, like the bestest friend in the whole world that I am - I solve her problem immediately. I say: "Um, why not do what I do and let the BAKER at the BAKERY solve this problem for you?" I shout BAKER and BAKERY at her like she is my 99-year old grandmother. Slowly and very, very LOUDLY. I did not expect her to embrace this suggestion. I expected her to say something like: "Margs - I am Fifi - baker extraordinairre! I do not know of this establishment you speak of - what is a bakery? I am a much better baker than all of the bakers in the Santa Monica area. I am classically trained and my baking puts them all to shame."
Her response was rather shocking. She said, and I quote: "Clearly YOU have not been a working mom for as long as I have, and you do not yet have the guilt of not being there for every school function, every after school activity, every fundraiser, nor do you have the overwhelming need to prove yourself to the Stay at Home moms. All of this will come in due time, young Padawan. Just you wait. So you see, this bug cake HAS TO BE PERFECT, and every child at this party has to think, "I wish my mom could make a cool cake like that.", so that I get a little bit of cred in my favor before the school year starts and I slip into bad working mom decline. Remember - it's NEVER just about the cake."
Hmmmm. So, my Fifi will be spending the weekend with sheets and tubes of fondant and experimenting with all sorts of creepy, crawly creations to decorate the Emperor's cake - which, I have absolutely NO doubt, will be the BEST damned bug cake Santa Monica will have EVER seen. I also have no doubt that Fifi will return to work on Monday with a ruined manicure, hands dyed the color of dirty dish water and circles the size of saucers under her eyes - but that cake will look amazing.
And all of this leaves me with a kind of sad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Why are we STILL fighting the Mommy Wars? In the past 2 or 3 years, so many moms have had to go back to work because of this crappy economy. Jobs and entire industries that were once secure and sure bets have gone up in smoke. Our nation is teetering on the edge of another Great Depression and you mean to tell me that there are STILL women out there who look DOWN on those of us who are out there bringing home the bacon and then busting our asses to get home so that we can fry it up in the pan? Seriously?
Look - there is nothing wrong with staying home with the kids. I did it for many, many years. And I loved it...most days. It's hard, hard work. I'd say that it's harder than many of the jobs that I've ever had! It's certainly the MOST IMPORTANT job that I've ever had - and it still is. But many, many women do not have the luxury of having the choice to stay home with their kids. And there are some women out there who - GASP - don't want to!!! DUM-DUM-DUM!!! Newsflash - that doesn't make them crappy mothers. It makes them human.
I just think that it's sad that someone like Fifi - who is brilliant at what she does, has a million other talents and gifts and - oh by the way- is a kick-ass mother - feels like she has to turn into the freaking Cake Boss to prove something to the Stay at Home moms in her son's school community. It sucks - yet it's reality.
I remember freaking out right before walking out to do a MILLION DOLLAR sales presentation this past March. Why, are you asking, was the Busy Momma freaking out? Was she nervous about the BIGGEST presentation of her entire career? Nope - I mean I was nervous about it - but I wasn't freaking out about it. No - I was freaking out because it was the third grader's day to host the Lenten Bake Sale for charity and as I was not home the night before to bake anything - PC did what any normal, rational male would do - he went to Safeway, bought a box of Ding Dongs, threw them in Bella's book bag and called it a day.
Bella's contribution to the Bake Sale was a box of Ding Dongs.
Ding Dongs.
Here's the problem - we don't hand in premade things like Ding Dongs. Or, shall I say, before I went back to work, we NEVER handed in things like Ding Dongs for the bake sale. Only Moms who didn't care handed in thoughtless things like Ding Dongs. I mean any DING DONG can run to Safeway and get a thing of Ding Dongs, right? We handed in homemade cupcakes with tyedyed icing, or witch cupcakes or other such projects that kept me up into the wee small hours of the morning trying to out do the other moms. For what? What prize did I EVER get for staying up all night long to make 75 cupcakes with little edible daisies on them?
So I'm just as guilty as Fifi in this arena. But here is the question that I pose to you - loyal readers: Are the Mommy Wars real? Do you think anyone looked at Bella's box of Ding Dongs and thought: "Oh look - poor Bella. Her Mom WORKS. She doesn't have time to bake for the bake sale. Wonder what else she doesn't have time for?" Do you think anyone at The Emperor's birthday party would look at a bakery cake and think: "Oh look - Fifi went to the BAKERY. Well of course, she WORKS - what would you expect?" Do we put this pressure on ourselves?
Thursday, August 5, 2010
The mouths of babes.....
What is it they say about kids? They say the funniest things? Well, this week, at my house, they have said the funniest, nastiest, most disturbing and most ridiculous things we have ever heard! It's like our two children have lost their minds. Or, like PC says: It's like being the wardens in the insane asylum. I don't know if it's the heat, or the fact that they have been trapped inside more than normal because we've been having these rolling thunder storms...or the stars are misaligned or what - but my children have gone bonkers and I don't like it one bit!
It all started innocently enough. Monday morning, Jack woke up pretty early and came into my bed for a nice early morning snuggle. This rare treat is one of my favorite left-over rituals from the baby-days. Both kids would wake up early for that 5am feeding and then we'd snuggle up and cuddle and go back to sleep for a bit. Jack still wanders in every now and then, cuddles up and drifts off to sleep for an hour or two before he wakes up ready to face the day. So, you can imagine my surprise this past Monday when he came in, turned over to face me and had a very serious and disturbed look on his face. I folded him into my arms and asked:
"What's wrong Bud? Bad dream?"
And, in his very serious little old man voice he replied:" Um, I don't know how to say dis without soundin' mean - but it's time to go to da spa and get your moustache waxed off again Momma."
And, with a fart and a yawn, he proceeded to snuggle into his hairy beast of a mother and drift off to sleep.
What a nice way to start the week - and it only gets better from there.
He is on a very serious tattle-tale bender. He tattles on everyone - all of the time. And when I say everyone - I mean everyone. Of course he tattles on Bella - that's a no brainer. But he tattles on the babysitter, the babysitter's boyfriend, the boyfriend's mom, his friends, his friend's moms, my parents and - and this is the best - on PC!!! He tattles on his own father. Sells his ass right out to me.
"Mom, Daddy said the 'S' word!"
"Mom, Daddy said God Damnit again!"
"Mom, Daddy gave us soda and we're not supposed to have soda. And he gave us soda twice. Hehehehehehe."
"Mom, Daddy forgot to (fill in the blank) even though you told him to do it three times before you left and then after you left he said 'why don't you tell me one more time in case I'm really retarded like you seem to think I am' and he forgot to do it anyway. Hehehehehehehehe"
OK - that last one was really funny actually.
And then there is Bella...
Jack is looking forward to a trip to New York at the end of this month. My brother has given him tickets to a NY Yankees game - and Jack is anticipating this event the way a child anticipates Christmas. He is counting down the days, he tells everyone he encounters that he is going to "New York City to the New York Yankees "Stamium" to see the New York Yankees play a Yankees game". The maillady knows about the trip, the dry cleaner knows, every life guard at the pool knows, every camp counselor knows, every neighbor knows, the checkout lady at the grocery store knows - pretty much everyone in town knows that Jack is headed to New York to see a game. Of course, every time Jack gleefully informs someone about the upcoming trip - Bella's nose gets a bit out of joint. It's not that she's never had such a trip - in fact - she has had SEVERAL. It's that this particular trip is all about Jack. Hmmph. This is highly unacceptable to Bella. So, she has come up with a plan for her OWN trip to New York. And in what I can ONLY attribute as a passive-aggressive, "Eff-You" to my brother, who is persona-non-grata after having the sheer audacity to arrange this Yankees game trip for Jack (as he has arranged the Mary Poppins, Beauty and the Beast, Museum of Natural History, American Girl Place and Little Mermaid trips in years past for the princess), she has deemed this trip "Katie and the Aunties Weekend of WONDERMENT". The "Aunties" in question are my newly minted sister-in-law and her sister, whom Bella has adopted as her new fairy godmother and honorary "Auntie" - like it or not. When questioned about what exactly a "weekend of WONDERMENT' enatils - my darling girl calmly replied that a weekend of wonderment would probably start with :" a trip to a nice spa to get one of those treatments where they put cucumbers on your eyes and all of that gloop on your face. I mean, Mom, we've sort of done the mani and pedi thing to death. Then, I'm thinking that we take the Aunties on a tour of American Girl Place. You know - show them where the dolls can get their hair done and the doll hospital. Then we can shop of course and get a new doll and her stuff. We'll probably want to grab a bite to eat while we're there don't you think? Then shopping of course - we can probably get a new wardrobe while we're in the city. And I'm thinking that we'll do a Broadway show that night - I'm thinking "Wicked". What do you think?"
Ummm - let me see. I think that I will be bankrupt by the end of the weekend - that is what I think!!!! I think:
WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?????????????????????????????????????
ARE YOU NUCKING FUTS??????????????????????????????
What I said was: "Well, those all sound like really fun ideas! However, they also sound like really expensive ideas too- so why don't we try to decide which ONE of those ideas - a show, a trip to American girl or a MINI-spa treatment - we will enjoy. And then we'll talk to the Aunties and in the end the grown-ups will make the final decision." HOLY COW!
And it only gets better from there....
As we are discussing the Aunties, Bella asks what her fairy godmother does for a living. So, I reply that she is super-duper smart and worked really, really hard in school and is now a lawyer. She worked SO hard in school that when it was time to apply to law schools - she got into and went to the BEST one in the whole country - probably the whole world - Harvard Law! Isn't that FANTASTIC???????
And in what can only be described as a moment that literally took my breath away....and not in the good way - like when your kid wins the spelling bee or walks down the stairs in her prom gown or leaps across the stage in the Nutcracker - this breathtaking experience was more like when someone punches you in your solar plexus...my brilliant, beautiful daughter said:
"I just don't understand why Auntie wastes all of her time lawyering when she is so beautiful. She could just be a super model. Do you think she thought of that before all of that boring Harvard business?"
OH.... MY .... GOD.
After PC difribulated me back to life...and the paramedics left, I sat and reflected upon my parenting strategies up to this point. I am a feminist, and I wear that title proudly. I'm a Mommy - and I'm a damned good one. I've read all of the books. I've done all of the things I'm supposed to. I did pre and postnatal yoga. I did Gymboree. I did Kindermusik. I made my own babyfood. I've bought the organic milk and chicken and beef. I've avoided the trans fats. I've read to them every night since they came home from the hospital and limited screen time. I've tried to instill values like honesty and goodness and kindness and fairness. I've tried to model the value of education and knowledge. I've honored their interests and tried to get to know and honor who they are - not who I want them to be.
FOR WHAT? FOR WHAT I ASK YOU??????? From the looks of it, all of my freaking efforts - my attachment parenting, my co-sleeping, my organic everything - has netted me a Paris Hilton wanna-be and a tattle-taling aspiring aestician/waxing professional.
So, here is my new strategy. It's every man for himself over here from now on. No more organic bullshit. It's Dingdongs and HoHos for breakfast, Pixie Sticks and white Wonderbread for lunch and Mountain Dew and meals that come in a box for dinner. You might never poop again - but who cares? No bedtimes, books are banned, porn for all, neck tats for every birthday and "Homework is for Dorks!" is the new family motto. No extra-curricular activities either. No ballet, horseback riding, piano, soccer, baseball, field hockey, Scouts, Nutcracker, Lego builders club - nothing - nada.You want dance class? It had better involve a pole, kiddo. Shake your moneymaker, 'cause Momma needs a new pair of shoes.
I'm walking around this place with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. I'm going to Walmart and investing in a bunch of Mumus and haircurlers. And I'm going to drive around town like that. The new strategy is: That which does not kill you will make you STRONGER. Obviously, my attempts at parenting them and molding them into decent human beings isn't working. So now, I think I'm going to have to frighten them into becoming the brilliant, over-achieving type A people I know they can become! And if anyone can frighten them to greatness- I can....I know I can do it...
It all started innocently enough. Monday morning, Jack woke up pretty early and came into my bed for a nice early morning snuggle. This rare treat is one of my favorite left-over rituals from the baby-days. Both kids would wake up early for that 5am feeding and then we'd snuggle up and cuddle and go back to sleep for a bit. Jack still wanders in every now and then, cuddles up and drifts off to sleep for an hour or two before he wakes up ready to face the day. So, you can imagine my surprise this past Monday when he came in, turned over to face me and had a very serious and disturbed look on his face. I folded him into my arms and asked:
"What's wrong Bud? Bad dream?"
And, in his very serious little old man voice he replied:" Um, I don't know how to say dis without soundin' mean - but it's time to go to da spa and get your moustache waxed off again Momma."
And, with a fart and a yawn, he proceeded to snuggle into his hairy beast of a mother and drift off to sleep.
What a nice way to start the week - and it only gets better from there.
He is on a very serious tattle-tale bender. He tattles on everyone - all of the time. And when I say everyone - I mean everyone. Of course he tattles on Bella - that's a no brainer. But he tattles on the babysitter, the babysitter's boyfriend, the boyfriend's mom, his friends, his friend's moms, my parents and - and this is the best - on PC!!! He tattles on his own father. Sells his ass right out to me.
"Mom, Daddy said the 'S' word!"
"Mom, Daddy said God Damnit again!"
"Mom, Daddy gave us soda and we're not supposed to have soda. And he gave us soda twice. Hehehehehehe."
"Mom, Daddy forgot to (fill in the blank) even though you told him to do it three times before you left and then after you left he said 'why don't you tell me one more time in case I'm really retarded like you seem to think I am' and he forgot to do it anyway. Hehehehehehehehe"
OK - that last one was really funny actually.
And then there is Bella...
Jack is looking forward to a trip to New York at the end of this month. My brother has given him tickets to a NY Yankees game - and Jack is anticipating this event the way a child anticipates Christmas. He is counting down the days, he tells everyone he encounters that he is going to "New York City to the New York Yankees "Stamium" to see the New York Yankees play a Yankees game". The maillady knows about the trip, the dry cleaner knows, every life guard at the pool knows, every camp counselor knows, every neighbor knows, the checkout lady at the grocery store knows - pretty much everyone in town knows that Jack is headed to New York to see a game. Of course, every time Jack gleefully informs someone about the upcoming trip - Bella's nose gets a bit out of joint. It's not that she's never had such a trip - in fact - she has had SEVERAL. It's that this particular trip is all about Jack. Hmmph. This is highly unacceptable to Bella. So, she has come up with a plan for her OWN trip to New York. And in what I can ONLY attribute as a passive-aggressive, "Eff-You" to my brother, who is persona-non-grata after having the sheer audacity to arrange this Yankees game trip for Jack (as he has arranged the Mary Poppins, Beauty and the Beast, Museum of Natural History, American Girl Place and Little Mermaid trips in years past for the princess), she has deemed this trip "Katie and the Aunties Weekend of WONDERMENT". The "Aunties" in question are my newly minted sister-in-law and her sister, whom Bella has adopted as her new fairy godmother and honorary "Auntie" - like it or not. When questioned about what exactly a "weekend of WONDERMENT' enatils - my darling girl calmly replied that a weekend of wonderment would probably start with :" a trip to a nice spa to get one of those treatments where they put cucumbers on your eyes and all of that gloop on your face. I mean, Mom, we've sort of done the mani and pedi thing to death. Then, I'm thinking that we take the Aunties on a tour of American Girl Place. You know - show them where the dolls can get their hair done and the doll hospital. Then we can shop of course and get a new doll and her stuff. We'll probably want to grab a bite to eat while we're there don't you think? Then shopping of course - we can probably get a new wardrobe while we're in the city. And I'm thinking that we'll do a Broadway show that night - I'm thinking "Wicked". What do you think?"
Ummm - let me see. I think that I will be bankrupt by the end of the weekend - that is what I think!!!! I think:
WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?????????????????????????????????????
ARE YOU NUCKING FUTS??????????????????????????????
What I said was: "Well, those all sound like really fun ideas! However, they also sound like really expensive ideas too- so why don't we try to decide which ONE of those ideas - a show, a trip to American girl or a MINI-spa treatment - we will enjoy. And then we'll talk to the Aunties and in the end the grown-ups will make the final decision." HOLY COW!
And it only gets better from there....
As we are discussing the Aunties, Bella asks what her fairy godmother does for a living. So, I reply that she is super-duper smart and worked really, really hard in school and is now a lawyer. She worked SO hard in school that when it was time to apply to law schools - she got into and went to the BEST one in the whole country - probably the whole world - Harvard Law! Isn't that FANTASTIC???????
And in what can only be described as a moment that literally took my breath away....and not in the good way - like when your kid wins the spelling bee or walks down the stairs in her prom gown or leaps across the stage in the Nutcracker - this breathtaking experience was more like when someone punches you in your solar plexus...my brilliant, beautiful daughter said:
"I just don't understand why Auntie wastes all of her time lawyering when she is so beautiful. She could just be a super model. Do you think she thought of that before all of that boring Harvard business?"
OH.... MY .... GOD.
After PC difribulated me back to life...and the paramedics left, I sat and reflected upon my parenting strategies up to this point. I am a feminist, and I wear that title proudly. I'm a Mommy - and I'm a damned good one. I've read all of the books. I've done all of the things I'm supposed to. I did pre and postnatal yoga. I did Gymboree. I did Kindermusik. I made my own babyfood. I've bought the organic milk and chicken and beef. I've avoided the trans fats. I've read to them every night since they came home from the hospital and limited screen time. I've tried to instill values like honesty and goodness and kindness and fairness. I've tried to model the value of education and knowledge. I've honored their interests and tried to get to know and honor who they are - not who I want them to be.
FOR WHAT? FOR WHAT I ASK YOU??????? From the looks of it, all of my freaking efforts - my attachment parenting, my co-sleeping, my organic everything - has netted me a Paris Hilton wanna-be and a tattle-taling aspiring aestician/waxing professional.
So, here is my new strategy. It's every man for himself over here from now on. No more organic bullshit. It's Dingdongs and HoHos for breakfast, Pixie Sticks and white Wonderbread for lunch and Mountain Dew and meals that come in a box for dinner. You might never poop again - but who cares? No bedtimes, books are banned, porn for all, neck tats for every birthday and "Homework is for Dorks!" is the new family motto. No extra-curricular activities either. No ballet, horseback riding, piano, soccer, baseball, field hockey, Scouts, Nutcracker, Lego builders club - nothing - nada.You want dance class? It had better involve a pole, kiddo. Shake your moneymaker, 'cause Momma needs a new pair of shoes.
I'm walking around this place with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. I'm going to Walmart and investing in a bunch of Mumus and haircurlers. And I'm going to drive around town like that. The new strategy is: That which does not kill you will make you STRONGER. Obviously, my attempts at parenting them and molding them into decent human beings isn't working. So now, I think I'm going to have to frighten them into becoming the brilliant, over-achieving type A people I know they can become! And if anyone can frighten them to greatness- I can....I know I can do it...
Sunday, August 1, 2010
First I was Afraid...I was Petrified....
Well Peeps - I did it. I made it through my three weeks of travel hell and I am happy to report that the Busy Momma and her crew are still in one piece. We are a bit tired and travel weary - but all in all - A -O.K.
Vacation was WONDERFUL. It was just what we needed. A week of being COMPLETELY unplugged was just what the doctor ordered. I am hoping to go for 10 days next year. We were able to sleep late and reconnect as a family. It was truly one of those magical weeks where everyone got along, no one fought and no one needed a time-out. No one complained of being "bored", no one asked to watch tv or play Wii - although they did say that the FIRST thing they were going to do upon getting home was "play Wii and watch TV all day long". And true to their word....
I will admit that arriving home from Cape Cod at 9:30 pm and arriving at BWI at 2:30pm the following day was a bit harrowing. And the ensuing 5-hour flight delay did not help make the transition from vacation to back-to-work any more pleasant. And the sudden 1:30 am wake up to a smoking, sparking AC unit wasn't a grand kick-off to a week of Regional Meetings in Columbus, Ohio. Of course, the resulting room change wasn't enjoyable either once I realized, at 2:20am, that I was moved to a room next-door to a group of giggly, LOUD teenage cheerleaders who were staying at the hotel while they were apparently attending the Annoying, Giggly, Loud, American Cheerleader Association Convention. And at 3am, after REPEATED, FUTILE complaints to the front desk about said LOUD, giggly teenage girls, the Busy Momma was forced to take matters into her own hands. And I will admit, it wasn't pretty. First of all, any of you who have SEEN Busy Momma at 3am know that SHE is not pretty at that hour of the morning. The protective layer of spakle has not yet been applied, the hair has not yet been tamed and laquered and the girls have not yet been properly harnessed, lifted and separated. So you can IMAGINE what the Busy Momma must have looked like when she BURST out of her room, "Team Edward" shirt stretched across her sagging bossom and 15-year old Loyola lacross shorts stretched across her ample bottom, hair standing Cruella DeVille like atop her head, eyes flashing like a raving lunatic while screaching "WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THESE HOOLIGANS?" and "LADIES - YOU HAD BETTER GET INTO YOUR BEDS RIGHT NOW BEFORE I THROW YOU INTO THEM AND I AM IN NO WAY PLAYING. GO TO BED RIGHT NOW!" Four teenage girls, stopped dead in their tracks - mid-giggle, smiles dissolving off of their faces, eyes widening in abject terror at the sight of me. One door cracks open, and a mother peeks her head out of the door and meekly says: "Is there a problem?'
Now those of you who know me well can probabaly imagine my response to this moron. You are probably already laughing your asses off at what you know I said to this brainless waste of space. But, for those of you new to this blog, my polite response was:
"Is there a problem? Do you own a watch? Yes, there is a FUCKING problem! It is 3am and your SPAWN are running all over this hotel like it is GOD-DAMNED DISNEYLAND. There are people here who have to be up and at meetings at 7am which, since you apparently don't own a FUCKING WATCH is in 4 hours. So unless you'd like ME to bang on YOUR goddamned door at 6:30 am when I have to be up and dressed and perky for MY breakfast meeting, you will wrangle your SPAWN and put them to bed and I will not hear as much as a god damned FART from any of them or god help me I will bang on all of your doors at 6 am until your sorry asses are up and as mad as I am right now - GOT IT? GOOD - now GO TO BED!"
Then, with as much dignity as I could muster, I swung back around and realized that....I was locked out of my room.
The good news is, they upgraded Busy Momma to a "tower suite". The bad news is, Busy Momma lost an entire night of sleep - and Busy Momma is not as young as she used to be! But, the moral of the story is - I survived. PC survived his 2 weeks of single-parent-hood. The house is still standing, the kids are healthy - although I do think they have had more soda and junk-food than they've had in a long time. They probably need a good colon cleanse. And I don't think any Summer Reading or Summer Math got done last week - so we really need to pick up the pace on that as school starts in 3 weeks! Yikes!
These last 3 weeks of summer are going to fly by - they ALWAYS do. I think I'm a freak, because I'm not that parent walking through Target doing the Back-to-School shopping singing "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year". I LOVE summer. I LOVE having the kids home. I LOVE the break from homework and structure and the routine. I'm so sad that the end is near. I remember being younger when the summer seemed endless. Now it seems to go by in a flash! I think I'm just getting really old....as if my above described FREAK-OUT didn't prove that. Before we know it, we will be back into the swing of making lunches and doing homework and ballet and Nutcracker and soccer and field hockey and going in 300 different directions. But for today, I think maybe I'll just go to the pool.......
Vacation was WONDERFUL. It was just what we needed. A week of being COMPLETELY unplugged was just what the doctor ordered. I am hoping to go for 10 days next year. We were able to sleep late and reconnect as a family. It was truly one of those magical weeks where everyone got along, no one fought and no one needed a time-out. No one complained of being "bored", no one asked to watch tv or play Wii - although they did say that the FIRST thing they were going to do upon getting home was "play Wii and watch TV all day long". And true to their word....
I will admit that arriving home from Cape Cod at 9:30 pm and arriving at BWI at 2:30pm the following day was a bit harrowing. And the ensuing 5-hour flight delay did not help make the transition from vacation to back-to-work any more pleasant. And the sudden 1:30 am wake up to a smoking, sparking AC unit wasn't a grand kick-off to a week of Regional Meetings in Columbus, Ohio. Of course, the resulting room change wasn't enjoyable either once I realized, at 2:20am, that I was moved to a room next-door to a group of giggly, LOUD teenage cheerleaders who were staying at the hotel while they were apparently attending the Annoying, Giggly, Loud, American Cheerleader Association Convention. And at 3am, after REPEATED, FUTILE complaints to the front desk about said LOUD, giggly teenage girls, the Busy Momma was forced to take matters into her own hands. And I will admit, it wasn't pretty. First of all, any of you who have SEEN Busy Momma at 3am know that SHE is not pretty at that hour of the morning. The protective layer of spakle has not yet been applied, the hair has not yet been tamed and laquered and the girls have not yet been properly harnessed, lifted and separated. So you can IMAGINE what the Busy Momma must have looked like when she BURST out of her room, "Team Edward" shirt stretched across her sagging bossom and 15-year old Loyola lacross shorts stretched across her ample bottom, hair standing Cruella DeVille like atop her head, eyes flashing like a raving lunatic while screaching "WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THESE HOOLIGANS?" and "LADIES - YOU HAD BETTER GET INTO YOUR BEDS RIGHT NOW BEFORE I THROW YOU INTO THEM AND I AM IN NO WAY PLAYING. GO TO BED RIGHT NOW!" Four teenage girls, stopped dead in their tracks - mid-giggle, smiles dissolving off of their faces, eyes widening in abject terror at the sight of me. One door cracks open, and a mother peeks her head out of the door and meekly says: "Is there a problem?'
Now those of you who know me well can probabaly imagine my response to this moron. You are probably already laughing your asses off at what you know I said to this brainless waste of space. But, for those of you new to this blog, my polite response was:
"Is there a problem? Do you own a watch? Yes, there is a FUCKING problem! It is 3am and your SPAWN are running all over this hotel like it is GOD-DAMNED DISNEYLAND. There are people here who have to be up and at meetings at 7am which, since you apparently don't own a FUCKING WATCH is in 4 hours. So unless you'd like ME to bang on YOUR goddamned door at 6:30 am when I have to be up and dressed and perky for MY breakfast meeting, you will wrangle your SPAWN and put them to bed and I will not hear as much as a god damned FART from any of them or god help me I will bang on all of your doors at 6 am until your sorry asses are up and as mad as I am right now - GOT IT? GOOD - now GO TO BED!"
Then, with as much dignity as I could muster, I swung back around and realized that....I was locked out of my room.
The good news is, they upgraded Busy Momma to a "tower suite". The bad news is, Busy Momma lost an entire night of sleep - and Busy Momma is not as young as she used to be! But, the moral of the story is - I survived. PC survived his 2 weeks of single-parent-hood. The house is still standing, the kids are healthy - although I do think they have had more soda and junk-food than they've had in a long time. They probably need a good colon cleanse. And I don't think any Summer Reading or Summer Math got done last week - so we really need to pick up the pace on that as school starts in 3 weeks! Yikes!
These last 3 weeks of summer are going to fly by - they ALWAYS do. I think I'm a freak, because I'm not that parent walking through Target doing the Back-to-School shopping singing "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year". I LOVE summer. I LOVE having the kids home. I LOVE the break from homework and structure and the routine. I'm so sad that the end is near. I remember being younger when the summer seemed endless. Now it seems to go by in a flash! I think I'm just getting really old....as if my above described FREAK-OUT didn't prove that. Before we know it, we will be back into the swing of making lunches and doing homework and ballet and Nutcracker and soccer and field hockey and going in 300 different directions. But for today, I think maybe I'll just go to the pool.......
Friday, July 9, 2010
Oh Help...
Ahh..July. There is something about the word that conjures up images of porch swings, and lemonade, lightening bugs and lazy afternoons by the lake - right? Then why on earth does the word "July" make me hyperventilate lately? Perhaps it is the sheer amount of CRAZY that is on my plate for the month of July. The month started out peacefully enough - a wonderful trip to the beach with my beloved friends Sookie, Glynnis and companies. Then - we came home - and all hell is breaking loose.
First of all - PC and I decided to stay late at the beach - you know - enjoy the day, wait out the traffic and what-not. Which meant that we arrived home after 10, and had to tote 2 unconscious kids in from the car and up to bed. Then, after unpacking the car, shaking sand all over the driveway and unhooking the labrynth of DS/DVD/IPOD wires that were hooked into every outlet in the swagger wagon and packing them into their proper carrying case - we were faced with an unfortunate situation.
Before heading up to bed, I decided to quickly check email - only to discover that the mouse was not working - and neither was the keyboard. Hmmm - what to do? Whine to PC, of course. So, he dutifully climbed under the desk, assuming that something was unplugged. If only. While under the desk, he discovered that the mouse wires, keyboard wire, printer wires and speaker wires were all severed - or shall I say - nibbled through. CHEWED through - by a MOUSE! That's right Peeps. While we were out sunning our buns - Mickey, or one of his pals - was having a GRAND time in my office, chewing his way through all that I hold dear. So, after an appropriate string of truly foul words, worthy of a drunken sailor, PC squeals - I mean - says in a very deep, masculine voice: "Son of a B%*TCH - THERE IT IS!!!". And there it was - running under the couch. And, dear friends - you can picture what happened next. PC and Busy Momma, armed with brooms and tennis racquets and pasta collanders and plastic bowls just going to town trying to smack the crap out of this teeny, tiny mouse. To no avail. The mouse outplayed, outsmarted and outwitted us. So, off to bed we finally went - defeated, demoralized and totally grossed out. I am happy to report that our visitor HAS been caught and has met his maker courtesy of one of the dozen old fashioned mouse traps PC has scattered all over the house.
So now, I have to take care of all of the damage the stupid mouse caused! AND get an exterminator! All before leaving on a business trip for a whole WEEK! Now - a week long business trip wouldn't be so bad - if it did not involve coming home late on Friday night and leaving early on Saturday morning for vacation!!! How on EARTH am I going to manage THAT? How will I manage getting home at 11 pm on Friday and having a family of 4 packed for a week long beach vacation and out the door by 8am on Saturday morning? It will take an act of God - a miracle for this to happen.
And THEN, I will be on vacation for a week - drive home on Friday or Saturday and fly out on SUNDAY for ANOTHER business trip!!!! HOW on EARTH am I going to do THAT??????????????
I am truly afraid that Busy Momma is going to loose her ever loving mind. So - here's the plan:
1. Busy Momma has started the evening with a glass of wine. While this will not help Busy Momma work any faster or more efficiently -it will probably prevent her from killing anyone.
2. Busy Momma is doing the laundry as she types. When the laundry is finished - Busy Momma will fold and pack vacation clothes and then HIDE these clothes from PC and the children.
3. Busy Momma will then make sure that the children have enough clothes and underwear for a week of camp while she is away. If they do not - she will but cheapo shorts and tee shirts at WalMart tomorrow. She will not tell PC she is doing this - under any circumstances.
4. If PC is reading this blog and is angry about this impending shopping trip - then maybe he can remember that Busy Momma is about 1 step away from a nervous breakdown and checking herself into Shepard Pratt for a nice "vacation" in the crazy house.
5. Busy Momma is now going to open a new bottle of wine, because she is getting mad at PC- and he's not even home from work yet - big fat stupid, stupid headed jerk.
6. That's better.
7. What am I doing here? Oh the plan...that's right. Maybe I need some more wine here....
Oh crap - plans schmlans. I really have no idea how I'm going to manage this one - I really don't. It is going to take some pretty serious coordination and team work. And wine - lots and lots of wine.....
First of all - PC and I decided to stay late at the beach - you know - enjoy the day, wait out the traffic and what-not. Which meant that we arrived home after 10, and had to tote 2 unconscious kids in from the car and up to bed. Then, after unpacking the car, shaking sand all over the driveway and unhooking the labrynth of DS/DVD/IPOD wires that were hooked into every outlet in the swagger wagon and packing them into their proper carrying case - we were faced with an unfortunate situation.
Before heading up to bed, I decided to quickly check email - only to discover that the mouse was not working - and neither was the keyboard. Hmmm - what to do? Whine to PC, of course. So, he dutifully climbed under the desk, assuming that something was unplugged. If only. While under the desk, he discovered that the mouse wires, keyboard wire, printer wires and speaker wires were all severed - or shall I say - nibbled through. CHEWED through - by a MOUSE! That's right Peeps. While we were out sunning our buns - Mickey, or one of his pals - was having a GRAND time in my office, chewing his way through all that I hold dear. So, after an appropriate string of truly foul words, worthy of a drunken sailor, PC squeals - I mean - says in a very deep, masculine voice: "Son of a B%*TCH - THERE IT IS!!!". And there it was - running under the couch. And, dear friends - you can picture what happened next. PC and Busy Momma, armed with brooms and tennis racquets and pasta collanders and plastic bowls just going to town trying to smack the crap out of this teeny, tiny mouse. To no avail. The mouse outplayed, outsmarted and outwitted us. So, off to bed we finally went - defeated, demoralized and totally grossed out. I am happy to report that our visitor HAS been caught and has met his maker courtesy of one of the dozen old fashioned mouse traps PC has scattered all over the house.
So now, I have to take care of all of the damage the stupid mouse caused! AND get an exterminator! All before leaving on a business trip for a whole WEEK! Now - a week long business trip wouldn't be so bad - if it did not involve coming home late on Friday night and leaving early on Saturday morning for vacation!!! How on EARTH am I going to manage THAT? How will I manage getting home at 11 pm on Friday and having a family of 4 packed for a week long beach vacation and out the door by 8am on Saturday morning? It will take an act of God - a miracle for this to happen.
And THEN, I will be on vacation for a week - drive home on Friday or Saturday and fly out on SUNDAY for ANOTHER business trip!!!! HOW on EARTH am I going to do THAT??????????????
I am truly afraid that Busy Momma is going to loose her ever loving mind. So - here's the plan:
1. Busy Momma has started the evening with a glass of wine. While this will not help Busy Momma work any faster or more efficiently -it will probably prevent her from killing anyone.
2. Busy Momma is doing the laundry as she types. When the laundry is finished - Busy Momma will fold and pack vacation clothes and then HIDE these clothes from PC and the children.
3. Busy Momma will then make sure that the children have enough clothes and underwear for a week of camp while she is away. If they do not - she will but cheapo shorts and tee shirts at WalMart tomorrow. She will not tell PC she is doing this - under any circumstances.
4. If PC is reading this blog and is angry about this impending shopping trip - then maybe he can remember that Busy Momma is about 1 step away from a nervous breakdown and checking herself into Shepard Pratt for a nice "vacation" in the crazy house.
5. Busy Momma is now going to open a new bottle of wine, because she is getting mad at PC- and he's not even home from work yet - big fat stupid, stupid headed jerk.
6. That's better.
7. What am I doing here? Oh the plan...that's right. Maybe I need some more wine here....
Oh crap - plans schmlans. I really have no idea how I'm going to manage this one - I really don't. It is going to take some pretty serious coordination and team work. And wine - lots and lots of wine.....
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