Falling into...Order???

Well hey there Peeps! How is your September shaping up? Here in Busy Momma land school is back in full swing and the return of school inevitably signals the beginning of the chaos that we like to call "fall". I don't know what it is about the fall season that makes it seem SO overwhelming to me. Well, actually I DO think I know. Stepping back into the order and routine of the school year is hard for us. We LOVE our summers. My job slows down...a tiny bit... and we get to spend more lazy time together - at the pool, at the beach, even just at home. It's like we forget and relax the rules a bit for 8 or 9 weeks...and it is divine. Want to stay up late and watch a movie on a Wednesday night? Okay. Want to go out and get ice cream after dinner on a Monday? Sure - let's go! Want to just eat dinner tonight at the pool? Sure - who is ordering the pizza?

But all too soon, those school supplies start arriving at Target, uniforms are ordered, bookbags are packed, teachers are met and whammo - vacation is over. And we feel like this:

And it seems like we go from 0-60 in a flash! One day we're chiiling at the pool, reading a book and our biggest concern is having enough coals for the grill tonight. The next day we are trying to juggle piano, soccer, tutoring, chorus, cross country, HOMEWORK, getting to bed on time, getting up early, making healthy lunches and balanced dinners and on and on and on!

My last Back-to-School post was titled "Falling into Chaos". And as funny as it was - it was funny in retro-spect. Meaning it wasn't really funny screaming at PC because I forgot about scout meetings and uniforms and whatnot. And PC didn't find it all that hilarious either - at the time. So, I was bound and determined that we would start off on the right foot this year as Bella began Middle School.  I knew that there would be multiple teachers and multiple assignments and that would mean LOTS and LOTS of paper to manage and organize. And - well, if you've seen my desk - you know that's kinda not my thing. I am a paper hoarder. I am afraid to throw anything out and as a result I have 3 filing cabinets in my office that are stuffed to the limit- because you never know - I might need the instruction manual for that 12-year- old Pack and Play one of these days. As I type I am looking at a pile of handouts that I got at a meeting in JULY that STILL need to be filed away. And many of you heard my "Whoops - I forgot to register my kids in school this year" story...so let it suffice to say that I needed to get me some organizational systems in place.

So here is what I did:

I created these hanging "pockets" for each kiddo. We empty everyone's folders every night, but we don't always have time to file away everyone's papers into proper folders. So, we keep all of our papers for the week - study guides, permission slips, reminders, graded papers - in our pockets.

Then, when we have time on the weekend - we empty our pockets, get rid of outdated papers that we don't need to keep and file papers that we need to keep in a file box. The hanging folders are color-coded by kid. Bella's are red and Jack's are blue. I keep the school calendar in th front of the box and write down everyone's assignments - Jack's in blue and Bella's in pink on this calendar. This wayPC and  I know what's going on, what test is happening on what day, AND I am also looking at the school calendar so that I'm not missing picture day or out-of-uniform day and whatnot.

But wait - there's MORE! I found these AWESOME pads at Target. They are magnetic and I hang mine on the fridge. It has a place for EVERYONE's activities AND a place on the bottom where I plan out my meals for the week. This way - everyone knows where I am every day and where the kids need to be! I cannot live without this thing.

I also found them at Staples. It is called the Weekly Family Planner by momAgenda. The website is www.momagenda.com - I don't get anything from these guys...other than a manageable life!!! I actually just bought one for my mom's house since it takes a village to raise my kids and my parents do most of the after-school pick-up and homework doing, I thought it would be useful for them to have a duplicate.

So I think we are starting off as well as we possibly could. So far, I have managed to get all forms signed and returned, permission slips filled out, hot lunches ordered, picture slips filled in, scouting dues turned in AND I have also managed to sign up for 1 volunteer committee at school, 2 slots for the Fall Festival and 1 cub scout popcorn selling slot. (OK - PC did that. But I did print out the schedule and add it to the master calendar!)

Now before you go and think - Hey that Busy Momma is one brilliantly organized Chickie - I'm really not. I don't take credit for ANY of these ideas. I got the pocket idea from Pinterest...the subject of an upcoming post. I got the hanging file system from a GREAT book called The Organized Student by Donna Goldberg.

It is a REALLY great book that I think every Busy Momma should have on her book shelf. Especially if you are the Busy Momma of a kid with executive function, organizational or attention issues.

Will it work? I hope so. Bella has some really AWESOME teachers who are totally focused on making this transition easy on the kids - and their parents. I left Back-to-School night feeling like: "OK, I think we can do this." If any of you guys have any tried and true organizational hints - send them my way!!! I'll take all of the help I can get!

The Organized Student: Teaching Children the Skills for Success in School and Beyond: Donna Goldberg,Jennifer Zwiebel: 9780743270205: Amazon.com: Books

The Organized Student: Teaching Children the Skills for Success in School and Beyond: Donna Goldberg,Jennifer Zwiebel: 9780743270205: Amazon.com: Books

An Open Letter to God

                                                                                                                                  August 27, 2012

To: The Lord God aka: The Big Ka-Huna

From: One Busy Momma

Re: School Year 2012-2013

Dear Sir or Madame:

     As you well know, today was the first day of school for Busy Momma's crew. It all went very smoothly - I'd like to thank you for that. As much as I'd like to think that my obsessive compulsive stockpiling and organizing of school supplies, non-stop labeling, laundering and RE LAUNDERING my boy's polo shirts to "get them a bit whiter" was a large factor in the day's overall "smooth sailing-ness", I know that you had something to do with it as well. So kudos to you.

    However - today was the very first day of a very long school year. By my count, we have about 189 days left...unless you'd like to send another lovely blizzard our way in January. (It would be a really nice 40th birthday gift. Just a thought...) And as much as I'd like to think that we will have 189 wonderful, smooth days like today...well, let's just say that I didn't fall off of the turnip truck yesterday. Our girl just entered Middle School...or as I remember it...the gates of hell. Although I do understand that you created all people in your image and likeness - I find it hard to picture you as a middle school-aged ,pre-teen girl. No loving God would appear in that form. Not that there is anything wrong per-say with these lovely, young, pre-women. However, I like to think of my God as a level-headed, wise, old grey headed man or woman...somewhat like a very shiny and glowing Dumbledore or Professor McGonnegal. NOT as a young girl/woman who is hysterically laughing at a joke only she is in on one minute and hysterically crying at nothing at all the next. Enough said.

The  there is the matter of Jack. As you know, boy-o entered the third grade and has, quite possibly, the nicest and kindest teacher ever born. And while this is a great thing...it is also somewhat frightening to me. You see - she is kind and gentle and is used to Bella. Not Jack. Bella is kind and gentle as well...and Jack is....well...Jack. He says it like it is. I am hoping and praying that she didn't hear him yell to me: "Hey Mom - look - so and so (names are being withheld to protect the innocent) sits WAAAY up here. Far away from me - which is great 'cause I hate her!" at meet the teacher day. Does she know about his first day in Pre 4 when he pretended to be a dog on the carpet and lifted his leg and FARTED in another kid's face? I hope not. As far as she knows, from dealing with Bella - we are a kind and gentle people. We have nice, quiet children who tell you how pretty you are every day. Not children who pass gas on command and "hate bossy-boss girls so much that I could just sock 'em!" Oh yes - he goes there.

So Lord, I know that I ask a lot of you. However - you ask A LOT of me as well. You have given me several insurmountable obstacles in my life: You cursed me with the O'Neil legs. They will always be fat - always. No matter what I do. My thighs will always touch. That sucks. You made me fall deeply, deeply in love with a wonderful man...who snores. Loudly. And I love him - but the snoring is so obnoxious. And let's not even MENTION the whole early peri-menopause thing that now includes HOT FLASHES during the DAY as well as night sweats.

And there is also the matter of my teeny, tiny bladder...I mean the list goes on and on and on...So as I see it - you owe me one or two favors. And I am going to cash them in this year. So here goes - my solem prayer to you as we begin this new school year:

Dear Lord...Lord of all that is good and holy...Lord who curses lovely young ladies with fat thighs and early hot flashes....please watch over my babies as they embark on this journey of a new school year. Watch over Bella as she begins her Middle School career. May she be happy. May no nasty bitches single her out and pick on her. Because I will hunt them down and cut them. Oh yes - you know that I will. (Not really - but I WILL shoot them withering glances AND give them the STINK EYE)  May she rise above the fray and understand that she is unique.  With that sentiment in mind...Please let her understand that the crap they sell at Hollister is WAAAY too expensive and that she really doesn't want to look JUST LIKE everyone else who shops at Hollister. Please save me from having to go into Hollister and feel like a 40-year old senior citizen because I can't see the price tags and I am lacking oxygen to my brain from the cloying, obnoxious fragrance that is piped through the ducts there. And while we're talking about Bella - please blind all of those 13-year old boys who stare at her at the pool. OK - blinding may be a bit harsh. But make them stop looking at her like she is a delicious cupcake. She is eleven years old for Christ's sake. (Whoops - sorry) (Oh, and please render PC mute when at the Arena Club pool. When he refers to these young gentlemen as"pimple-faced douche-bags" out loud it is very embarrasing. And I already have those afore-mentioned thighs to contend with at the pool.)

Dear Lord, father or mother of us all, please put some sense into Jack's head. Please grant him the patience that he needs to deal with all of the bossy young ladies in his class. Please grant him patience and a filter - DEAR GOD - put a FILTER over that kid's mouth. Don't let him tell any MORE little girls that NO ONE WILL EVER MARRY THEM because they are so bossy. Don't allow him to fart on anyone on purpose this year. Please grant him the wisdom to understand that I know that he is not "allergic" to going to mass and that going to mass every Wednesday can, in no way, make him so sick that he "just might die right there in the church." Please make him just a bit afraid of me. Just a bit. Just enough fear to make him think twice before he sends that spy car into his sister's room while she and her friends are in there talking about boys. Please convince him that he does, in fact, need to work on his penmanship because contrary to what he believes, police officers DO have to write with pens. Oh - and please make him stop wanting to be a police officer. Because I cannot take that kind of stress in my old age. So please have the network cancel the show "Rookies'" and "Cops" that he loves to watch. Seriously.

And while we are talking about TV shows - can you please send discouraging thoughts to my kids about trying out for America's Got Talent. Because they are all over that like white-on-rice - and while I think their rendition of "Call Me Maybe" done with hand motions and banana phones is just adorable...it's really not. Howard would eat them alive.

Oh - and PLEASE let someone sail through 6th grade math with all Bs AND stop asking for a phone. Seriously - she's wearing me down. Perhaps you could appear again in a burning bush...or someone's IPhone and make an 11th and 12th Commandment:

Thou Shalt Not Get a Phone before High School.

Thou Shalt Not Allow Middle School Students to Communicate via Text.

Seriously - you'd get VERY good press for that. Not that you need it...but good press never hurt anyone.

OK - that's all for now. Lots of Luv...XOXOXOXOX

Busy Momma

Whoops!

So - I titled this post "Whoops!" because it's become my new, favorite catch-phrase. I seem to be saying it all of the time these days. Because, you see, Busy Momma has been screwing-up BIG TIME lately. Now, I haven't set fire to the house or misplaced a child or anything like that. That would call for FAR saltier language than "Whoops!". So nothing like that. I think I've just been going in so many different directions this summer that I have definitely let a few balls drop.

Now, in my defense - my summer has been a bit nutso. I've done a great deal of traveling - both on business and for pleasure. And it has really taken its toll on my sanity. I was away 3 out of 4 weeks in July. And one of those weeks involved 3 separate suitcases FOR MYSELF. A suitcase for a meeting in Indianapolis Sunday-Thursday. Then flying home on Thursday - making a pitstop at home to switch suitcases for an overnight on Thursday. Driving home on Friday for a pitstop and exchanging suitcases for ANOTHER suitcase to go to Cape Cod. PLUS - I also had to pack bags for the 2 little ones a week in advance of leaving for the Cape as I was only dropping by at home to pick them up on our way. Now - not to toot my own horn - but that type of packing and pre-planning requires a level of organizational skill that would lend itself quite nicely to a position as Secretary of State. 

Plus, I've had to do all of this with a broken foot that WILL NOT HEAL as quickly as I'd like it to. PLUS, I'm now back at work in what is the busiest and craziest 3 or 4 weeks of the year in my industry. So - while trying to manage my crazy travel schedule and get the kids ready to go back to school, and deal with the babysitter leaving for college - things have gotten a bit "rough" over here...pun intended!

So, here's the first big WHOOPS of the week. I have a little garden on the side of our house. Nothing spectacular - but it has a few rose bushes and a few hydrangea bushes and I love them. So you can imagine my horror at coming home from a trip and seeing a large, jungle-y looking VINE growing up the side of the house from my rose and hydrangea garden! I asked PC to go out there and chop it down - actually to tear it down QUITE NICELY - a few times. I was really nice the first 10 or so times I asked. Then, one day as I was working on a deadline of "have that impossible task to me by 3pm YESTERDAY" - I happened to notice that PC was looking at his computer screen - laughing. (This is the danger of having spouses who BOTH work from home.) So, not being able to resist and in my defense having a REALLY BAD DAY at work, I mosied on over to look at his screen. (Is that how you spell "mosey-ied"? Is mosied even a real word?) And to my delight - PC was looking at something completely un-related to work. And instead of laughing with him, I sweetly suggested that he might want to just run outside and tear that darned vine down from the house. And by "sweetly suggested" I might have threatened his manhood with a hedgeclipper if he didn't go outside RIGHT NOW and tear that mother-f$##*$g vine off of the mother-f&^%$#$%g house before someone blasts the Samford and Sons theme underneath our window late at night. Because he's OBVIOUSLY SOOOOOOOOO BUSY WITH GOD_D@*&^D WORK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And that's not the WHOOPS part.

The WHOOPS part was my answer to the perfectly logical question he asked before he went to deal with the jungle vine, which was: "Do you think I need gloves to tear that thing down? Like you don't think it's poisoned ivy or anything do you?"

Here's the WHOOPS part.

I'm warning you - it's bad. Really bad.

I said something to the effect of "No, I DO NOT think it is poisoned ivy. I've already had to tear that vine down this past spring and I did it with my bare hands." WHICH IS TRUE -  SWEAR TO GOD. I did. And I might have also thrown the words: "Don't be a pussy" in there for good measure. (I might have actually just thought that...but still...)

So - out PC went to tackle the vine.....of poisoned ivy.

Whoops.

So - imagine his and my shock the next morning when he woke up looking like a cross between the Elephant Man and Rocky Balboa after his fight with Clubber Lang. The ENTIRE right side of his face was pink and swollen. His eye was swollen shut, and he was a mess of pink splotches from his hairline down to his cheekbone. We both thought that perhaps he was having an allergic reaction to some sort of bug bite. And to make matters worse - he had a BIG client meeting that morning that he HAD to attend. Looking like he had been on the losing end of a bar fight. CLASSY! By that afternoon, the itching started and he had to hightail it to Urgent Care where the doctor diagnosed a really bad case of plant-based something something...poisoned ivy basically. He had to get a SHOT of cortizone, is STILL taking steroids and is applying Benadryl and Calamine lotion like they are spa treatments. AND it has spread to his arms and the other side of his face.

And I am currently looking for a new place to live.

Just kidding.

As if having a Dad who looks like an outfit Lady GaGa might wear to the Oscars wasn't bad enough-  we then had what is now being referred to as: The Class List Debacle of 2012. My kids go to a private Catholic school. And we find out who we have as a teacher each year 2 weeks before school starts. The posting of the class lists is a HUGE event in our house as the kids want to see who will be in their class for the coming year. (They could really care less about who is TEACHING the class.) So - the lists came out earlier this week - while i was away on business - of course. And a calamity that one might associate with learning that the house you were living in was haunted by the ghosts of 12 murdered seriel killers ensued. What happened, you ask? Well, it seems that Jack and Bella weren't on ANY of the lists. They weren't in ANYONE'S class. We were overwhelmed with text messages, emails and phone calls..."Why aren't you on the list? Are you guys leaving the school? What happened? What's going on?......."

Now this REALLY TOASTED MY ONIONS. I mean for the love of God - I've bought all of the uniforms, I bought the pre-packaged school supplies, everyone has new socks and underwear, new school shoes and sneakers. I have worked so hard to have them ready to go back! We have new backpacks, our locker chandelier has fresh batteries, the shag carpet for the locker has been laundered and we are trying to convine the Elephant Man, I mean PC, to let us get magnetic wallpaper for our locker! I've done all of this in July and early August so that I have all of my ducks in a freaking row for school and the ONE thing the school has to do is just put them in a freaking class and they don't even get that right. God Freaking D#$&*t - help a Mommy out. And just make this whole mess worse - I am AWAY when I find this out and I have 2 crying kids staying with a very concerned Nanny and Poppy who can't IMAGINE why this is happening and are at DEFCON 10 with worry and hysteria.

I mean I am so organized that I TOTALLY remember getting all of the re-registration paperwork out, writing the check and putting it in Jacks' folder and then thinking:

"You Jackhole! You don't put a check for hundreds of dollars in the folder of an 8-year old boy! Put it in your purse and deliver it to the main office yourself."

Which I did.

Right?

I TOTALLY remember putting the envelope with the paperwork and the check in my purse.

Huh...funny, I can't remember delivering it. Huh....when did I drop that off?......

Whoops.

Now, one would think that the school would CERTAINLY send out an email or 2 to gently remind you to hand in that outstanding deposit, right? One, two or maybe 4 or 5...

Whoops.

You know, you find ALL SORTS of crap when you clean out your purse. I found a GREAT MAC lipstick I'd been missing. A half-full mini-tin of Altoids. A hotel receipt that I needed for work...a few expense reports ago and lo and behold...a crumpled up envelope containing my re-registration paperwork and a nice fat check.(And it was wet - which is slightly disturbing as I can't figure out why.)

Whoops.

So - what does this all mean? Am I suffering from the onset of dementia? Am I starting to lose my memory due to my peri-menopausal state of being? Is it West Nile virus? Am I sleep-drinking and having black-outs that I don't know I'm having? (That would be kind of cool actually.) Probably not. I think I'm just doing too much! I need a break. A brain break. I need a medically induced coma where my brain could rest and rejuvinate...like they do for your face at a medi-spa. But I can't find anyplace - within the United States - where a board-certified physician will put me in such a coma. Something about "things going bad when Micaael Jackson tried it" bullshit. (There goes the word "pussy" through my mind again....)

So WHAT is a Momma to do? I need help my Peeps! Am I doomed to have a crazy school year? Is this Class List Debacle a preview of things to come? If it is - this is all I can say...there is not enough wine in the world to get me through it. It might be time to dust off the old cocktail shaker....

I Am Not Normal

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Destination Dysentery

Ahhh...vacation. A time to unwind, eat irresponsibly and throw back a couple of margaritas. Sleep late, read a good book or two and, if you're lucky, enjoy the company of a few good friends. That was the plan, my peeps, for Busy Momma's July 4th. The whole gang headed to Rehoboth with Sookie and company for our annual July 4th getaway. We've been spending July 4th together for several years now and have always had a really great time. Sookie's husband Bill grew up on the lower shore and his dad invites us to spend a few days with him every July 4th. And we happily oblige!It's usually a magical time - the kids all get along, we all have our OWN bathrooms, the coffee is always hot in the morning and there is always someone willing to watch the wee ones if the grown ups want to get away from it all for a night. It's a pretty great thing we've got going on - I have to be honest. And this year I was REALLY looking forward to this vacation. I've been working too hard, putting in A LOT of hours travelling and I just really needed a break from it all.

It started out beautifully. Almost - too beautifully. There was NO traffic on the way down - as in NO traffic. The night before July 4th heading to the beach. We took this as a sign from the vacation gods. We thought they were saying: "Come, come to the beach ye tired and weary overworked people. Come, let the sun tan you, let the gentle waves massage you, let the tequila numb you..."

Unfortunately, something got lost in translation. That's not what they were saying AT ALL. More on that later.

We all met for dinner at our annual "1st night in Rehoboth" place - Jake's. We had a few laughs, a great meal and threw back a few drinks.We got back to the house, unpacked, settled in and went to bed. The fourth dawned hot and sunny - perfect beach weather. So off we headed to the beach. The kids boogie boarded, Sookie, Bill, PC and I took turns watching them and we all had lunch at our favorite pizza joint - as we do EVERY July 4th. That night we attended a great party that Bill's dad throws every year. Good food, fun friends and lots and lots of booze. We slept late on the 5th, lounged about, drank too much coffee and headed out to the bay for a lazy day of floating on our boards and reading. It was all going so, so well...until it wasn't. As we were talking about packing it up and heading home - Sookie's little girl, Alice, came out of the water and said "My tummy hurts". And that's when the real fun began. We assumed that she might have been dehydrated as it was extremely hot that day, and we had only seen her drink one or two juice boxes. So, we packed everyone up and took them home. Sookie put Alice into a cool bath and I gave her some icy cold gatorade. When Sookie's older daughter, Leena, began getting sick - we wondered if they might have food poisoning. They had shared a sub for lunch. Maybe they had a funky sub? About an hour or two later - Jack got sick and that's when we knew - a STOMACH VIRUS was in our midst.

Now, I won't get into the nitty-gritty details - let it suffice to say that there was more gross stuff flying out of these kids than 4 adults could or should ever be expected to manage. Oh - and I forgot to mention that Sookie's dog is on her last legs, so they brought her along as well...and she suffers from colitis. And decided to demonstrate this as the kids were spewing and ... Need I say more? So - by 1 am on July 6th - I was sleeping in the nursery with the girls. All 3 girls had puke pots in bed with them. Bella wasn't sick - but she was sort of sick because watching everyone else get sick was making her sick. Kinda like in the movie Goonies.... PC was in bed with Jack, Sookie was on the couch in the living room with the pooping dog and Bill was in bed because we had to have 1 adult at the ready the next morning who actually had a few hours of sleep in him.Plus - he wasn't feeling so hot.

Friday morning dawned to 2 new dilemas - first the kids were now running fevers. The throwing up had almost stopped, but now they were incredibly dehydrated and feverish. And, of course, even though we had all brought fever medicine - just in case - it wasn't the "right" medicine. Who would have thought that 3 sick kids could be medicine connoseurs? Oh yes, apparently children's Motrin tastes like "barf" to Jack, while Leena likes it. And no one likes grape flavored medicine...ewww. So, PC spent much of the day hunting around Walgreen's, Giant and CVS to find the proper medicines that all of the children would take. He also got Ginger Ale for the kid who doesn't like Coke, Coke for the kid who doesn't like Ginger Ale, gatorade for everyone and about 453 cans of chicken soup - in every variety and brand known to man. because GOD KNOWS if you're that picky about fever medicine - SURELY you are very choosy about your chicken noodle vs. your chicken and rice. The SECOND dilema was ME! I woke up on Friday morning and could barely walk. Somehow, some way I managed to almost BREAK my left foot on Thursday. Somewhere in the mayhem of packing up puking kids and hightailing it off the beach, I stepped in a hole or something and screwed my foot really well. I had iced it up when we got home - but by Friday morning - my pretty little foot looked like something that belonged on Shrek the Ogre. The toes were so swollen, I could not move them, and I was in tears - seriously. So - off the the local ER I go. And folks - that was an adventure in and of itself. Ever been at a beach ER? I hope not. Sincerely. I walked, or rather, hobbled in and the 97 year-old woman at the reception desk said: "May I help you?" I told her that I needed to be seen because I think I might have broken my foot. She took my information and told me that I've been a patient at the hospital already - in 1997. Now, I know that I drank A LOT in '97..but not THAT much. I assured her that I had never, ever visited the hospital before - and asked if I might have an ice pack and a wheel chair. Well, apparently, that was just way too much to ask of Mabel-Mae because she just started shaking her head and told me that she was having "a really bad day".  To which I somewhat snarkily replied: "Really? How 'bout that? Me too! How is that wheel chair coming along? " She proceeded to print out my wrist band, attach it to me and confide in me that she had actually had a pretty bad year. And I felt for her - I really did. But I still had no wheel chair or a god -damned ice pack and my human kindness only extends so far.

Once I made it through triage and had both an ice pack and a wheel chair - things were looking up. Until they called me back and I met Ronnie - the Wonder PA. Now, to be fair, the ER was crazy busy and Ronnie was only 1 man. Actually, I really could qualify him as a boy - a boy-man let's say. Ronnie walked in and said: "Hey, what's going on?" but not in a comforting way - kind of like in a stoned, Dazed and Confused way. NOT a good sign. So, I explained what had happened and told him that I really thought I broke a bone or two in my foot. He asked me to show him "where it hurts" and I did and was VERY CLEAR about the fact that it REALLY hurt if you touched it. So Ronnie proceeded to take his overgrown, HAIRY hands and use his monster-sized fingers to squeeze the hurty spot to the point that I SCREAMED and pulled my foot back so fast that I kicked him in the chin.

Now let me explain something. I don't scream. I gave birth 3 times. The first time the baby was backwards and BROKE MY TAILBONE on her way out - while my epidural was turned OFF. No screaming. Cursing - yes. but NO SCREAMING. Ronnie the Wonder PA elicited a scream that was so primal, I was quite mortifed. And after the scream was finished he literally said: "OK so that's where it hurts."

Seriously.

So, after he read the XRay, Ronnie sauntered in and said - and I quote: "Well, it AIN'T broke. And the radiologist looked at it and he DON'T think it's broke NEITHER." It was at this point that I asked to see Ronnie's hospital ID badge because SURELY, SURELY this was some kind of sick joke. This guy must be the janitor or an escaped mental patient pretending to be a PA - right? A trained professional PA certainly wouldn't speak that way - would he?

Why yes, Momma, yes he would.

So, Ronnie diagnosed me with either: tendoinitis, a severe sprain, a severe strain or a "real bad bruise". But also it could be a stress fracture - he just didn't really know. He gave me a pair of crutches, anti-inflamatories and pain meds and sent me on my way. When I got home, Jack was STILL puking into a bowl, but Sookie's girls looked much better and Bella was still A-OK. I slept with Jack that night, PC slept on the couch, Sookie and Bill stayed in their room. As I drifted off into a drug-induced sleep, I thought that we had surely hit rock bottom and things would be looking up in the morning.

Then, Sookie fell. The virus took hold around 3am and that poor girl was sicker than sick. By the time we woke up, she was covered in 12 layers of blankets and buried in her bed. She was so feverish, she was shivering and her teeth were chattering. That's when I knew we were goners - every last one of us would fall to this deadly bug. It was only a matter of time. We had all sat around marinating in these awful germs and they were sitting inside of Bella, PC, Bill and I just waiting to ravage us.

And they didn't disappoint. Bella started getting sick on Sunday - as we were driving home. By the time we arrived home - I was so sick I had to go directly to bed. PC and Bella spent the night in the ER as she was so sick and I spent the night on the bathroom floor - praying for death. Monday afternoon found me in a real doctor's office where the lovely, professional PA told me that she would be treating my poor little piggy as a stress fracture and put me into a beautiful post surgical boot so that I can wean myself off of the crutches and support and protect my foot as it heals. We lost PC to the virus on Monday afternoon. He went down hard and fast. 

So - now it's Thursday night - exactly 1 week since the first one of us fell. And I am happy to report that everyone is on the mend. PC and I are still not 100% , but we're getting there. Bella is still getting headaches and isn't her usual perky self - but she's bouncing back. She's working on bedazzling my boot as I type. You'd never know Jack was sick. Sookie is better, her girls are fine and Bill never really got horribly sick.

So - here's the weird thing. Are you ready? I STILL had a fun time on our vacation. Was it what we had planned? Nope. Would we want to EVER revisit it again - negative. However, I will say this - I think we LAUGHED more on this vacation than on any other. We were SO bored sitting around that we came up with ridiculous names for the vacation - like The Rehoboth Retch, the Throw-up Throwdown, IndaPUKENS Day and The Sandy Spew. We had a Facebook "name this vacation" contest and people contributed hilarious names. Then we had an "It could have been worse" contest on the way home - as Bella barfed in the back seat. In between barfs - she was even playing along. The kids were so kind and gentle with one another. They took care of each other and really made us proud. This Worst-Case Scenario vacation brought out the BEST in us. And while I wouldn't want to experience this one again - I will say that it certainly COULD HAVE been worse. And I, for one, am looking forward to laughing about all of this NEXT July 4th!

Senior Week Anyone?

Hi Peeps! How is your summer going? Ours is going great so far. It's been kind of busy - summer is becoming one of my busy seasons. Everyone tries to get their teachers trained over the summer now instead of at the beginning of the school year. So I've been pretty busy - but busy is good. The kids have eased into their summer routines like the little laid back chameleons they are. You'd think they were born in the water. They've turned a delicious shade of brown that I can never hope to duplicate on this pale body and Bella seems to grow a bit taller every night as she sleeps. She is just about as tall as I am - quite sobering, no? Jack just finished his baseball season, complete with an appearance in the All Star Game AND an invitation to play travel next year. YIKES! I'm not sure that the Busy Momma crew is ready for that level of chaos yet...I think the transition to Middle School will be chaotic enough for the fall. It's under review...

As many of you know - PC turned 40 last weekend! Wa-Hooo! And in thinking about how to celebrate such a momentus event - I, of course, suggested a big, blow-out party. An event that if you know anything about my darling PC, is exactly what he DID NOT want. My PC is NOT a party guy. He's more of a fly-under-the-radar and relax kind of a guy. Parties are really not his thing. So he decided that a nice, quiet, relaxing trip to the beach would be the perfect fortieth birthday gift. So - that's exactly what we did...well - sort of.

We went to the beach, and we had a GREAT time. And we relaxed. It was the "quiet" part of the equation that I don't think we got quite right. You see PC's birthday happens to coincide with a Maryland tradition known as "Senior Week". It really should be called "Senior WeekS" because Senior Week spans a few weeks in June. During Senior Week - recently graduated High School Seniors flock to the beach in droves and engage in all sorts of irresponsible, reprehensible, horrifying behaviors - including but not limited to: having sex with random strangers, drinking to the point of alchohol poisoning, jumping from hotel balconies into pools, swimming in the ocean at night while intoxicated, getting into fights on the boardwalk, playing chicken and running into oncoming traffic on Ocean Highway and all sorts of other craziness that ALWAYS leads to at least one kid being killed during what should be the happiest time thus far in his or her life.

Now, I realize that not ALL kids who attend senior week engage in these behaviors. I know that many kids go down to the beach, lay in the sun, have a few beers and make memories that last a lifetime - PC being one of them. But the stories of the debauchery, the injuries, the deaths are enough to make any parent just cringe at the thought of allowing her precious baby to go down there! But I digress..

We stayed at a really nice hotel - a place I picked because I was pretty sure that the Senior Week crowd wouldn't be able to afford the nightly rate. I was wrong.  We got there late on Friday night, and I realized we were in trouble right away. There was a giant group of kids sitting around on the patio outside of the tiki bar, decked out in their Hollister hoodies, drinking Bud Lights out of the bottle being really, really loud. For no good reason - other than to be really, really loud. Oiy. Thankfully, our room was at the other end of the resort - so they didn't bother us.

However - at about 3am - the rest of the revelers came home to roost. High as kites, drunk as skunks and LOUD as ..well ...really loud things. One gentleman decided that he needed to scream every word he said. It was lovely. Picture the goodnight scene in the Waltons: "Goodnight Mary Ellen, Goodnight John Boy.." only SCREAMED in a slurred drunken tone: "Night Skeets Man...Night Ball Sak...Night Tea Bag.."

Charming.

The next night we were all startled by the sound of a young woman SCREAMING her gd head off and running down the road. She really sounded like she was in trouble - so of course - it was PC to the rescue as I tried to make up little reasons why the girl might be screaming to soothe the children:
Me: "Oh you know, maybe she is being stung by a jellyfish."
Bella: "In the middle of the night?"
Jack: "Cool - then Dad could pee on her. That would be so cool."
Bella: "Why would she be running down the street if she was being stung by a jellyfish - in the middle of the night? No Mom, I think someone is attacking her."
Jack: "It would be way cooler if she was being attacked by a school of jellyfish and Dad and a whole bunch of people had to pee on her all at once. Maybe I should go too. I have to pee now."
Me: "Jack - pee in the bathroom - Bella, I'm sure no one is attacking her. Just relax."
Bella: "Well the jellyfish theory makes no sense. I think we should call 911"
Jack: "Yeah mom - that way the police men could all pee on her too. That's good thinking Bella."
Bella: in a rage now"OH MY GOD JACK - SHE IS NOT BEING ATTACKED BY A JELLY FISH YOU ARE SUCH A RETARD! SHE IS BEING ATTACKED BY A MAN AND MOM IS JUST MAKING THAT LAME STORY UP SO THAT WE WON'T BE SCARED! JUST SHUT UP ALREADY ABOUT THE PEE!"

And then, predicatbly all hell breaks loose.

A little while later, PC walks back into the room carrying a bottle of water and Diet Pepsi - oblivious to the civil unrest that has just erupted in room 201. No one was attacking the girl - man or beast. Apparently, the girl was TRIPPING - and having a BAD one. So, when PC realized that he could be of no assistance - to rescue her or to pee on her - he walked to the Wawa and picked up some drinks for the next day.

So, all in all - we had a great birthday weekend. But seeing the Seniors in action - these newly minted adults - just cemented my conviction that my children will NEVER attend senior week while I am alive. So thank you very much Ball Sak guy - thank you very much Attacked -by -a -Jelly- Fish -in -the- Middle -of -the- Night -Girl - you have just undoubtedly "ruined" Jack and Bella's lives for them. Way to go!