waffles

so i was having a dream the other night that i was running in a race. it was on some high school track...and i was running the wrong way. people were elbowing me, yelling obscenities at me, pushing me out of the way, and i just kept running in the wrong direction with a big goofy ass smile on my face. (it was weird.) then i heard a familiar voice yelp, "get up! it's 6:23!!!!! get up!" turns out the familiar voice was my husband's and i was no longer dreaming...both of us overslept. maybe you are the type of person that always oversleeps or maybe you oversleep every once in a while...i can tell you with honesty that i am at the complete other end of the spectrum. i never oversleep. (ever.) that being said, in the eight years that my husband and i have been teachers...we have never overslept. (not once.) let me tell you though, what a god awful feeling that whole shebang is. first of all, you wake up all disoriented because it's, like, not your normal time (or way) to wake up. then, once you get your bearings about you...you have that "oooooohhhhhhhhhshiiiiiiiiitttttt" moment because you know you are going to have to do like triple time to get to work or wherever you have to be. this was my first experience with this in my adult life and i didn't like it one bit. as i shoved my contacts in my eyeballs and my husband got on all fours and shoved his head under the tub faucet (?)...i thought there is NO WAY i'm going to make it on time. (none.)

on a normal day, the alarm goes off at 5:30 and my husband hops out of bed (balls akimbo) and gleefully gallops to get in the shower. i lay there and scratch my ass for approximately 10 more minutes and then roll out of bed like a rape victim. my hair is always all over my head, i'm missing pieces of clothing, sometimes mascara is smeared under my eyes, and the older i get the harder it is to do things like walk, when i first get up. so anyway, i'm no sight to see as i stumble into the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. however, yesterday morning butch and i both acted like we did a line of cocaine combined with a shot of red bull before firing ourselves out of bed. when he said, "it's 6:23!!!!!" i did the math and realized i had approximately 7 minutes (seven.) to get myself and both kids out the door if i didn't want to be late. (good one.) anyway, i brushed my teeth, skipped the make up, threw on a dress and went over to get ella. she was laying there awake and said, "oh hi mommy, i pooped!" (ohhhhmyyyyygoooddddd!) so i scooped her out of bed and changed her. i then went to door number 2 to grab thing 2, and she was standing up in the crib staring at me. the whole entire room smelled like shit. (ohhhhmyyyygodddddd!) so i grabbed her and changed her as well. although i have mentioned the simultaneous shits of my children in posts before, it hasn't happened in quite some time. of COURSE it would happen on a day (the only day ever) i overslept. (of course it would.)

as i drove to the sitter, i remembered that we had a buncha big wigs coming to our school to observe teachers and to start the process of renewing our charter. (i work in a charter school.) i don't mind when these people make appearances, mainly because when i am at work i do my job. i can also say that i am good at my job...i am pretty confident about that. therefore, i don't mind if people want to come in my classroom and observe at anytime. (bring it.) however, i didn't really want big wigs walking in my room, just as i sauntered in sans make up (and deodorant) in the early morning after over sleeping for the first time in eight years. due to some small miracle, i made it to work just a few minutes late. (before my student's arrived.) i'm not going to say how fast i was going on the beltway, but if i would've been pulled over i may or may not be behind bars right now. (whoops.) so i got everything set up for the day and my students arrived shortly after that. the thing with teaching is that you can't just hide in a cubicle for part of the morning, sip your coffee, and get acclimated for the day. once the kids arrive, you are on. (and it's on like donkey kong.) whether you are running late or not, you have to act like you have your shit together. if you don't, the kids will smell your uncertainty and take you down. (take you down to china town, people.) i smiled, said good morning to each one of them, and we got started on our first activity for the day.

not only were the big wigs scheduled to arrive yesterday, i also planned to make waffles with my kids that morning. you are probably thinking, "waffles?...what the what?" here's the thing, every week we start new letter and this week it happens to be "W"...so on tuesday (our first day back from spring break) we made a list of words that begin with that letter. one of those words happened to be (you guessed it), "waffles." when one of the children said it, a deep discussion followed about how delicious waffles actually are. they were all nodding in agreeance and i thought to myself, "i should just make them waffles." then i said (out loud), "i have a waffle iron at home, i can bring it in and we can make waffles for snack tomorrow if that's something you would like to do?" hoots. hollers. high fives. in other words..."bring on the waffles, teacher lady." (done.) now here's a little back story about the waffles and it involves my husband. tuesday is a day that i typically get the kids from the sitter. this was also a day that it was pouring down rain. therefore, i texted butch and said, "can you please pick me up waffle mix at the store on your way home?" he said yes. if you are a mom you know that running into the store for just one thing with two kids, especially if it's raining outside is such a pain in the ass. i was thankful he could do it and then called him and said, "i don't care if you get generic (or use a coupon), but PLEASE make sure that you get the mix that you don't have to add milk or eggs to. i don't have a fridge in my classroom." he said, "okay." (famous last words.)

so naturally, later that night when i pulled the mix out of the bag...i realized he got the kind that you have to add not only water...but milk, eggs and oil. (all of that.) seriously, why don't men listen? what is wrong with them? i ran up the steps, box in hand, and said, "what the HELL!? i asked you to get the mix that you only have to add water to!" he looked sheepish and said, "oh. isn't that the one i got?" (no it isn't, warren.) read the fine print there, skippy! actually, i doubt he even turned the box over. he went on, "well it said, "waffle" on the front so i just grabbed it." (oh good.) anyway, i ran out later to get the right box of mix and he chuckled at himself as i walked out the door. (keep chuckling, ahole!) as i pulled the (right) waffle mix out of the bag in front of my students, i had a flashback to his smug smile and cursed his poor listening skills. (men.) once again, the kids in my class knew nothing about the story with the mix, the (crazy) morning i had, or who the big wigs were that walked through our room to observe...they just wanted to learn and later make some waffles. after our mandated work, each one of them helped to add the ingredients and we talked about measurement while we were doing it. some took turns stirring the batter and others passed out plastic forks, knifes, and plates. their excitement was palpable and as i poured the first batch of batter into the iron...they were all giggling. my first waffle was a failure, it got all stuck and stuff. one kid said, "it's okay! just keep trying." (practice what you preach, i guess.) so finally i got it up and running and i was cranking waffles out like aunt jemima herself. it was like educational ihop in my classroom. (teaching win.)

i arrived at school today with my own little chicken in tow for "bring your child to work day." here's the thing, usually this is like the easiest day of the year for me because i always have a bunch of kids absent. however, i've never brought my own kid with me until this year...so that made it a little different. i think it's safe to say that when ella actually goes to kindergarten for real (in a year...what the hell), i'm going to have to be medicated and wear a muzzle. it's going to be hard for me to just "let her go" and trust that the teacher is going to be a good one. i never really understood why parent's got wound up about sending their kids to school for the first time,  but now i get it. moreover, last night while getting ready for bed, she got in a slight altercation with her sister. i reprimanded both of them and then...she swung at me. she didn't make contact, but i assure you if she would have...i would have had a mental malfunction. butch heard me say, "you don't hit mommy!" later that night he said, "if she hits you in front of your students...game over." (game over, indeed.) good thing she kept her swings to herself at school and luckily the whole day went off without a hitch. (sorry to disappoint.)

this week i was reminded of a coupla things. first of all, sometimes being an adult sucks and oversleeping is the ultimate worst. secondly, although men usually have good intentions...they don't listen half the time. (or any of the time.) lastly, although the waffle mix was only $1.67 at the grocery store it made a lasting impression with the little ones that i teach. not only will they never forget the sound that the letter W makes, they learned other things like cooperation, measurement, sharing, manners...and most importantly, they had fun. i hope that ella's kindergarten teacher will take the time to do things that the big wigs may deem "unconventional"...if not, everyone loses. oh, and back to that dream i had the other morning about running a race the wrong way but smiling about it? maybe it was a creepy premonition about how that morning was going to go...or maybe it was a metaphor for my teaching practices? all i know is...i wasn't the only one in the classroom with a goofy smile on my face when i whipped out that waffle iron. after a long week, i'm headed over to fen's tonight to solve world problems with the help of wine. aunt jemima...over and out.

judgement

alright, so i try not to judge other parents and the choices they make for their own children, but i do have a bone to pick with one particular subject...and it was prompted by some events from the past coupla nights. like i said, i don't mind (for example) if mothers want to breastfeed their kids until they are like 5, even if the child has a full set of teeth. (have at it sister friend!) i don't care if you want to make your own baby food, even if i think gerber does a fine job of that. (they have for many, many years.) i feel like you have to do what you think is right for your own kid, because there really is no "right" way to raise a child. it's sort of like survival of the fittest and you do what works for you, because you are the one that has to deal with your own kids on a daily (and nightly) basis. however, i will say after three nights of sharing a bed with my three year old...i will never understand the concept of "co-sleeping" with your kids. i know there are parents out there that choose to share their bed with their children. i'm not talking about parents that randomly have their kids crawl into bed at night. i'm talking they say, "i want my kids to share the bed with me." (sometimes also called the "family bed.") this is something i cannot wrap my brain around. i have no idea how or why people make the choice to do this...and i'm going to explain why in the following paragraph.

first of all, kids (especially toddlers) have no real regard for others. they are selfish creatures who think the world revolves around them. therefore, when they are "sharing" something (like a bed) with you...they just want to be comfortable. (they don't care about your well being.) if comfortable for them is shoving their head in your rib cage and their feet in your husband's man parts...they will do it. if comfortable is pushing you off the pillow so they can use it, they will do it. if comfortable for them is accidentally poking you in the eyeball and shoving their toe in your anus, they will do it. in fact, this is what finally prompted me to get out of bed last night and sleep on the couch. i mean, i'm fun, people...but when i felt ella's toe trying to insert into my anal cavity last night, i got the hell outta there. i shit you not, she was in a dead sleep and was trying to insert a big toe enema in my asshole. (wtf!?) (this was after multiple attempts to make this arrangement work.) i turned upside down on the bed, had my hair ripped out by her hand, got karate chopped in the left breast and throat punched in the esophagus. (this all really happened.) my husband sleeps similar to a corpse, so i have no idea if he really felt anything from her flailing. finally, when i couldn't take anymore during night three of this nonsense...i opted for the sofa instead.

now we only had to do this because we were visiting my parents (to celebrate the rising of jesus from the tomb), and ran out of room at their house. ella didn't want to sleep on a crib mattress on the floor...so we made an exception and she slept with us. don't get me wrong, when my kids are sick and need extra snuggles and shit...i'm not a full blown bed nazi. i allow them to sleep with us if those are the circumstances. when they were super little newborn people as well, they spent a lot of time with me in my bed. however, on a daily basis (otherwise)...you better believe they sleep in their own beds. i read an article one time about co-sleeping and it mentioned that some parents think it's "cruel" to confine a child to a crib or "traumatizing" to isolate them in their own bedroom. (what?) pretty sure both my husband and i were caged in a crib and later made to sleep in our own beds when we were kids. (the horror!) neither of us turned out to be axe murders and i certainly didn't want to serve my mother's head on a silver platter at easter dinner because of this. (in other words, we turned out normal.) again, if you believe in this business...i will try not to judge you, but it's hard for me to wrap my head around this concept. i will also make a bold statement that i would rather saw off my own leg (sans anesthetic) and use it as an oar while boating in the ocean. moreover, that boat could be a kayak and i could be many miles off shore with a school of sharks swimming around my severed limb. i'm not even exaggerating, that's how much i hate it.

the real kick in the taco is when i "woke up" (using that loosely), this morning on the couch, ella came out of the room and said, "mommy! i slept so good last night!" i felt like saying, "do you remember throat punching me and sticking your toe in my ass!? cause that was really disturbing." (i didn't...but it was on the tip of my tongue.) anyway, after three nights of this sleeping arrangement, i feel like a walking zombie. (so out of it.) my motor skills are compromised and i'm having a hard time forming full sentences. as we were packing the car to head back, i was thankful that we got to see lots of friends and family, but really i am just dreaming of routine and sleeping in my own space. about halfway back home, both children simultaneously had a meltdown. it was quick, violent and for no apparent reason. (those are the best kind.) although it was over quickly, i shot butch a look that said, "these are YOUR children." (not mine.) don't you love when you go there? like when your children act up and suddenly you take no responsibility for helping to create them? ella flies off the handle sometimes and he'll say, "she's you. she's acting just like you." (well she's also half you, you ahole.) carrie get's really obnoxious about her food sometimes (like irate) and i'll just turn to him and say, "well she's acting like you again." (like she isn't half mine.) anyway, i snapped dual pictures during the simultaneous meltdowns.

shortly after this, ella was happily singing the ABC song and carrie was clapping along. (kids are so strange.) i know both were just pissed off about having to sit in the car strapped in for so long, and really i don't blame them. (i was pissed off about being in the car on this beautiful day, as well.) so anyway, like i said before...whatever you have to do to sustain yourself with your own children is free of judgement from me. you wanna breast feed until they are five years of age? have at it, nipple queen. you wanna make your own baby food? you go girl, give gerber a run for their money. you wanna co-sleep with your kids? good luck you walking zombie. however, if you would rather use your own severed limb as an oar in the ocean, while surrounded by sharks...i don't think co-sleeping is for you. (just sayin.) hopefully when i lay my children down to bed tonight, i will be able to enjoy a full nights rest sans shots to the left breast or a toddler toe in my ass. (it wasn't pretty.) at the end of the day, all parents are just praying for one thing...that we aren't aren't raising future axe murderers. for now, i am doing the best i can with what i know, and hoping for a positive outcome. remember when referring to parenting, only the strong shall survive. furthermore, all other parents who fail may or may not have their heads served on a silver platter by their children at a holiday dinner. fingers crossed that one day it isn't mine.

ostrich

so i've been off all week on spring break and forgot how much fun it is to spend extra quality time with my children. before you jump to conclusions, there was only a trace of sarcasm there. (it wasn't full blown.) on one hand, i hate how fast kids change. they really aren't the same child from one day to the next. when you are around them all day everyday, you see it with your own eyeballs. sometimes when i pick them up at the sitter, i seriously feel like they have grown. (like in a day.) on the other hand, i'm kinda glad that i don't have to play short order cook and change shitty diapers all day. (truth.) however, this should not be called spring "break" for me. there is never a "break" when you have two kids running around. anyways, this week ella started doing this really fun thing when she gets pissed off at me. she roars at me. roars at me loudly like a goddamn lion. (ROAAAARRRR!!!) she does it with such gusto that you can tell she is really mad, her face even gets all red. i'd like to get it on video but it happens so suddenly that i can't. (violent and without warning.) i keep catching myself saying, "ella, if you roar at mommy one more time...you are going to get a time out." not a statement i thought i would ever use as a mother. (wtf?) carrie has also started something fun this week and i refer to it as "the ostrich." it happens when i ask her to do something, or if i'm saying something that she doesn't want to hear. she did the ostrich today when i told her to share a toy with her sister.

the ostrich.

can you imagine if adults acted like this? like if my principal asked me for a lesson plan or something and i just put my head down on the floor, my ass in air, and didn't say a word. i mean, what would she do? carrie stays like this until she deems it's safe to get up. when i ask her afterwards what she was doing, she just stares at me like it was totally normal behavior. of course her older sister thinks it's hilarious so she just stands there and points while this is going on, giggling like carrie is putting on a comedy act. (great.) so between both of my children acting like a wild animal and bird (respectively), it's been a crazy coupla days. yesterday we decided to take both of them to a morning movie. these ideas always sound good in your head, but then when you actually try to execute them...they fail. (that's parenting 78% of the time.) so we all hopped in the car, i had snacks and drinks packed and everyone was jazzed for the theater. when we first got there, both kids sat for a good 45 minutes and actually watched the movie. i breathed a sigh of relief at that point but then i did something you should never (ever) do as a parent...i leaned over to my husband and whispered, "this isn't that bad, they are doing so well!" i said it out loud. as a parent, you should never say shit like that out loud....because that's when your children set out to prove you wrong. it doesn't matter if they hear you or not, they will.

for instance, when carrie started consistently sleeping through the night i made the mistake of bragging to people about it and then like a day later she started cutting teeth and i was back up every couple hours at night taking care of her. i told my parents how great ella was doing at potty training and then she regressed and started wanting to wear a diaper again. if you say out loud, "wow, my kids haven't been sick for a while!" they will wake up the next morning with the bubonic plague or goddamn chicken pox. so if i have any parenting advice it would be to keep shit to yourself. if good stuff is happening, muster up everything you have and keep it inside. (it's better in there. trust me.) anyways, shortly after my statement to my husband, carrie started getting antsy and climbed off the seat. she just started walking around aimlessly like a baby zombie in the darkness...stopping every once in a while to eat popcorn off the floor. ("don't eat that!") butch was trying to corral her and then ella leaned over to me and said really (friggen) loud, "mommmEEEE...i have to POOP! POOP! POOP!" she really drove home the word poop...and if you don't know, three year olds suck at whispering. (i heard the people behind us snicker.) i'm glad that she's almost potty trained at this point...so she can announce her bowel movements in public. (perfect!) so while butch wished carrie was on leash, i went to the restrooms with ella. (divide and conquer.) after these shenanigans, carrie finally calmed down and ella went back to her seat. then, my one year old fell asleep. when we left, this is what she looked like:

so basically we paid $7.00 to have our kid sleep through half the movie. (the other half she acted like a horse's ass.) if that isn't a kick in the dick, i don't know what is. she looked like a corpse. (again, ella thought this was funny.) later that evening, fen was scheduled to arrive to watch our offspring so that we could go out to dinner and celebrate the anniversary of my birth. she called me on the way home from work and i said, "i will text you after i put carrie to bed. if she knows you are here, she will scam you and never go to sleep." she said ok. however, i was in the middle of the bedtime ritual and i heard a horn honk and guess who it was? (fen.) i swear she sets herself up for failure. i still put carrie down, even though the dog went ape shit and butch yelled, "she's here!" here's the thing...toddlers are way smarter than we give them credit for. they are master manipulators and even if you try to pull the wool over their eyes, they know things. i'm pretty sure that every time we've had a babysitter, each of them woke up at least once. when we are here, they hardly ever wake up. (they know.) carrie was quiet and we told ella that she could stay up a little bit with fen as long as she went to bed when she told her to. (she said otay.) sidebar: she had been wearing panties for 2 days (even at bedtime), but had not had a bowel movement in that time. (the movie theater was a scam...she only peed.) i mentioned this to fen.

she freaked. "well what am i supposed to do if she has to poop?!" i said, "just go up there and help her through it." (she still has potty pooping issues.) fen looked terrified. i said, "you'll be fine." warren and i skipped out to bonefish grill for some bang bang shrimp...and folks, you better believe he had a coupon. (that's the only reason we went there.) it's so nice to sit at a dinner table and not have to cut anyone's food, get anyone anything, or wipe anybody down. it's like you can be an adult for a minute and not someone's parent. these are little things you take for granted before you have kids. anyways, about half way through dinner, fen texted to say that carrie was up and ella pooped. (they know.) when we got home later, fen started telling tales of what happened. we were losing it laughing. first of all, carrie woke up screaming (for no reason, of course) and she went in to get her. when she tried to lay her back down, and she screamed some more. however, she let her cry for a minute but when it got quiet up there, she made a logical assumption...and thought she was dead. she called her aunt to ask her if she should be worried. (her aunt assured her she shouldn't worry.) still thinking heavily about it though, she stealthily opened carrie's door and ARMY CRAWLED in to check on her. a covert operation on carrie....to check if she was still breathing. (just awesome.) if i had a nanny cam, that would be excellent footage. she then went back downstairs and waited.

ella came to the top of the steps crying for her and fen said, "i never moved so fast in all my life. i seriously was faster than i was at that race last week." (oh my god.) she said she flew up the steps and ella told her she had to poop. i mentioned earlier that toddlers are master manipulators. i know this to be true because i have two of them. the night before at bedtime, ella came to the top of the steps three times and yelled down for me. all three times were for nonsense...so i finally said, "under no circumstances call for me unless you have to use the potty, or it's an emergency." she said, "otay." about 5 minutes later though she yelled, "mommy! mommy! come quick! i ripped one of my stuffed animals! it's an emergency!" fire? an emergency. a burglar? emergency. ripped stuffed animal? NOT an emergency. i went up there and said, "ok, i see the rip, what do you want me to do about it?" she said (and i quote), "call doc mcstuffins." she said this with a dead straight face. twice. i laughed and then said, "doc mcstuffins is sleeping and you should be, too. go to bed." (if you don't know who doc mcstuffins is...consider yourself lucky.) so when jen started the story with, "she was crying at the top of the steps." i wasn't alarmed because she is a total bedtime scammer and this is normal behavior. anyway, turns out she really did have to poop and fen coached her through it. (wish there was footage of this, just like the army crawl.) she then used a wipe to clean her up and dropped it in the toilet. to which ella yelled, "my MOMMY SAID WE DON'T THROW WIPES IN THE TOILET! GET IT OUT!" (and threw a fit!) fen didn't know what to do. it was either retrieve the wipe or deal with the wrath of a three year old. needless to say, she retrieved he wipe. with her hand. (yep.)

so we are almost at the end of the week and head out of town to my parents tomorrow. i'm glad they are going to be around as a buffer, because i don't know how much more of the acting like a lion and ostrich act i can take outta my two cherubs. people never tell you that when you are a parent, your house may or may not turn into the wild kingdom. if you are reading this now and have little ones...at least you have some warning. they also don't tell you that when your best friend offers to babysit on your birthday she will be forced to resort to army crawling and retrieving a wipe out of feces filled water with her bare hands. if anything, my children are excellent birth control. (you're welcome, fen.) when i head back to work, i think i may try roaring at people that piss me off or putting my forehead on the ground when i don't get my way. (i'm sure it'll go over well.) i also plan on announcing every bowel movement in public and eating popcorn off the floor when i can. (can you imagine?) kids are awesome in a lot of ways, but can be awful in a lot of ways as well. the thing is, you have no choice but to take the bad with the good. it would've been nice to have a little heads up though that this kind of stuff was going to happen...lessen the blow if you will. if you a seasoned parent, you know what the hell i'm talking about. if you are new parent or pregnant, here's your heads up. if you are not a parent at all, you're welcome for the free birth control. if you are fen?...better luck next time, friend.

maintenance

so last friday i got a free pass. (a free pass to freedom.) i couldn't help but wake up and be a little giddy on the morning of my escape, but there is always that motherhood feeling of guilt that creeps in at the back end and slaps you in the back of the head. as i left work that day, i wondered how many times my phone would ring with questions about my two little chickens at home...and then about 15 minutes after that thought, i got the first one. i reluctantly answered and butch said, "i just blew out a tire on the way to get the girls from the sitter and i'm standing on the side of the road." (what. the. hell.) he went on, "so can you just call the sitter and tell her that i'm going to be a little late?" (he doesn't even have her number!) i said yes and then asked him what he was going to do about the flat. he said, "well i'm going to change it." if you follow my posts, you can see why this would be of some concern to me. my husband is a lot of things...but handy is not one of them. i actually got a little sick in my stomach thinking about him slapping a spare tire on and proceeding down the highway to get the girls. however, he said, "i did this once when i was sixteen, so i know what i'm doing." he talked about being sixteen like it was just last weekend...not sixteen years ago. i said okay and called to inform the sitter. just to be clear, this has not happened in the past 8 years that we've lived in maryland...so it's only fitting that the day that i am heading out of town he blows out a bridgestone and ends up stranded. after he got the tire on he sent me a text that made me laugh. it was a picture of the tire with the caption, "WHAT A JOKE!" it was the smallest donut i've ever seen, like a toy tire. (spectacular.)

"WHAT A JOKE!"

so anyway, this is how the weekend kicked off...with me worrying about warren's tire and hoping he'd make it to pick up the kids on time. however, it all worked out and then he made a homemade meal of mcdonalds happy meals for them, poured himself an amstel light...and all was well in the world. when i rolled into my hometown, i had to stop at walmart to pick up some things. my mom called and asked me to pick up a pack of smokes for my old man as well. walmart can be a scary place...walmart in my hometown is an even scarier place. let's just say there was an eclectic group of individuals...and i'm pretty sure i saw a woman in pajama pants and slippers. (it was 5pm.) what is with these people? is it too much to put on shoes...and proper pants?! why would anyone want to go into public like that? maybe they are just overworked parents who have given up? (i dunno.) anyway, i got in line and asked for the cigarettes and the girl behind the counter eyeballed me and said, "i'm gonna need to see some ID." i laughed...loudly, and then said, "are you serious!?" she said, "yes." (without as much as cracking a smile...apparently she was very serious.) so i pulled out my ID, told her i was three days older than christ and she said, "WOAH! born in '82?" yes you fool, i'm far beyond 18. however, i was flattered, and texted fen and said, "i just got carded when i was buying cigarettes for my dad." she said, "WITH ALL THAT GRAY HAIR?!" (what a jerk.) i do, in fact, have a plethora of gray hair popping up on my head...i credit my children for each and every one of them.

when i finally got to my parents house, they started their typical sitcom like skit very early on. i was in the guest room getting ready for dinner and i heard my dad yell (to my mom), "do you know where that green jacket is that was in this hall closet!?" (uh oh.) now i know damn well that my mom has a special gift of misplacing things and this was probably not going to end well. she "pretended" to look in the closet and then came into the room that i was in and "pretended" to look in there as well...all the while my dad yelling about why he can't find it. she turned to me and whispered, "i gave it to goodwill!" and right after yelled (to my dad), "it's gotta be around here SOMEWHERE!" (i couldn't breathe.) after another argument about finding a pair of "lee" jeans he wanted to wear...we finally made it out the door for dinner. as we sat at the table, my dad turned to my mom and said, "did you pick up my pills?" my mom said, "no, i didn't get around to it." he replied, "well that's good, so on sunday i could just drop dead." (dead.) she laughed about his impeding death. we wrapped up dinner without any more talk about the jacket, the pills, the jeans, him dying....and went to another place for some drinks. it was there that my mom got hopped on the wine, which makes her talk incessantly. at one point my dad turned to her when she was rambling to him about something and said, "sometimes i wish you were just a blow up doll....so i could deflate you." he said this with a dead straight face and my mom and i could not get our shit together. (deflate her.)

the next day, i had a 5K that i signed up for a couple months ago and since the following weekend is easter...warren didn't want to travel twice. so he said, "well i can just keep the kids." these seven magical words were music to my ears. i said, "are you sure?" he said, "yea, as long as i get a weekend away, too." most of what we do is pretty equal. i mean, i do a shit ton of stuff around the house while he scratches his nut sack...but he does help out when necessary. also, if i get a girls night with fen...he also goes out for a night with the guys. i know damn well that i am lucky to have this type of set up, because most men wouldn't stay home alone to "watch" their own children. (truth.) when he has them, though, i have to let go of some stuff and realize that they are probably going to watch more TV then they should and things like hygiene are going to fall by the wayside. so when i came home on sunday, opened the door, and was smacked in the face with the smell of shit...i was not surprised. i'm not exaggerating when i say the house smelled like feces, it was like in the walls. there were empty juice cups, dirty plates, toys everywhere...and then this smell of shit. everyone in the house was asleep for naptime, including my husband. i cleaned up a bit and went upstairs. i woke him up and whispered, "why does the whole house smell like SHIT!?" he started laughing and said, "oh, the dog crapped on the floor and picked it up and put in the trashcan in the kitchen...so that's probably it." (WHAT?!) why in gods name would you put smelly dog crap in the kitchen trashcan? i mean, my first thought would be to get it out of the house...but maybe that's just me. (men.) i came downstairs and removed the trash bag, opened all the windows, and went to town cleaning.

when my kids woke up from their naps, they were super excited to see me. (this is always a good feeling.) they also both looked like they had been through a war. ella's long hair was all over her head, carrie had crusty boogies on her face...and both were in their pajamas from the night before. (like i said, you just need to let some stuff go.) he said, "they didn't get a bath for a couple days, but i washed them down with a baby wipe before bed both nights." (oh good.) i will say that they were both very happy and ella said she had a good time with her dad. (see dress up picture.) i think they survived solely on ramen noodles and watched the movie frozen 23 times, but that's okay with me. (it's one weekend.) i also notice that whenever i have the chance to get away for a night or two, my husband seems to appreciate me more. it's like he realizes the 2347 things i do around the house and for the kids (and him) and he "gets it." this morning i said to him while making the kids breakfast, "if i die or something and you don't find someone right away, please do me one favor and hire a maid. i don't want our kids to live in squalor." he thought this was hilarious and stated that "it wasn't that bad." (not bad for a frat house, butch!)

dress up time this weekend with daddy.

so i started my first official day of spring break (for the next 7 days) this morning by playing short order cook for the people that live in my house, doing 2 loads of laundry, and pushing the race car cart around the grocery store with my two children pretending to steer. i decided to take both of them with me, even though warren was at home. i didn't want to send him over the edge by leaving again, even if it was for an hour. after a fun filled week, we are headed back up to my parents for easter this coming weekend and i'm hoping by then my dad finds a suitable jacket, his lee jeans, and has his pill prescription filled. however, i hope my parents still continue with their impromptu comedy skits, because they are entertaining to be around for sure. after this weekend, i was reminded that whether you are getting smacked in the back of the head by guilt or hit in the face with the smell of feces...you need to cut yourself some slack. there is no instruction manual on how to be a parent, so do the best you can with what you have...and hope for the best. more importantly, don't forget to schedule in some sanity maintenance (especially if you have toddlers) every once in a while...mainly so you don't end up wandering around walmart in your slippers while not wearing proper pants.

*as an added bonus, i've included the professional picture taken of me at the end of the race. if everything about this photograph doesn't say "pure athlete"...i don't know what does. actually, it looks like i'm either in severe pain...or pooping my own pants at the finish line. (whatever.) sanity maintenance complete...and onto another (wild) week.

bunny

so we woke up on saturday morning and had the bright idea to go to the mall. the kids both needed new shoes and i had a gift card to one of the shops there, so we went. if you are a parent, you know that most days you are up at the ass crack of dawn...and you expect the rest of the world to also be awake. so when we drove to the mall at 9am and the parking lot was basically empty, i said, "i guess they aren't even open yet?!" (i was shocked.) if i have to be up at 7am on a saturday, the rest of humanity should be as well. (goddamnit!) we parked anyway and went inside. let me start by saying that i dislike "the mall" greatly. i hate the way it smells, the way it sounds, the way people are roaming around just itching to spend money...it's just not my cuppa tea. i can count on one hand the amount of times i've been to the mall in one year. however, we found one of the "play areas" for the kids and let them have at it. we weren't the only parents there that early, either. we sat there and all i could think about was the amount of germs on the giant octopus that carrie was...licking. ella was rubbing her face on the side of a whale, just as i watched another little one vomit on a plastic boat. (the dad froze and then ran for wipes.) even though it was kinda painful, it was much better than chuck e cheese. (trust me.) i was just happy not to see have to buy queer coins and see that costumed mouse dancing around with his stupid purple hat. (so dumb.)

when the mall actually (officially) opened, the play area became flooded with kids...and we got the hell outta there to get started on our shopping. as we walked to the shoe store, we happened to see a huge set with camera's nearby and butch said, "what the hell is that for?" i whispered, "i think it's for the easter bunny." (he gasped.) the man got giddy. (giddy as a school girl.) he said, "well we can take the kids to see him then!!" (joy.) now let me say that around christmas time, i purposely didn't take them to see santa...mainly because carrie is afraid of everything. (afraid of the world.) i knew it wouldn't end well so i didn't even attempt that nonsense. however, there was no avoiding it when we just so happened to be at the mall and the oversized easter bunny was there as well. moreover, my husband was insisting we see this damn rabbit. (you win, warren.) first of all, how do these people sign up for these jobs. is there like a wanted add in the newspaper? wanted: person to dress up in a (creepy) costume as the easter bunny at the mall. what are the prerequisites for such a position? all i knew yesterday morning is i was really glad didn't have that job. they had a large fan blowing on him, because i'm sure the costume was hot as hell. the "photographers" (using that loosely) were the type of people that took their job a little too seriously, even though they shouldn't. these two chicks were (deadly) serious about their work and when i asked them if we could just snap a picture with our cell phones (even though there was a sign not to), she became irate with me and told me my phone would "mess with their equipment" and "the company would not be happy with me." (gees, okay, lady. calm down.)

so when the rabbit casually came around the corner, i saw that his head was extra huge and his costume was extra creepy. (yikes!) ella just kinda stared at him (like he was a car wreck)...and she just couldn't look away. then she looked at me, looked at the bunny, back at me, back at the bunny...and i said (in my best "be brave!" voice), "you can go say hi to him!!" she shook her head no. (hahah!) so i said, i'll walk over with you. (even though i'm scared as well.) carrie was in my arms (clinging like a spider monkey) and had her head buried in my shoulder, hiding her eyes from his super huge head. (butch was standing there laughing.) as we walked toward him, carrie refused to make eye contact. (if she could talk she would've said, "oh hell no...") there was only one other couple (and kid) in line, so i gave her a minute to warm up. (she never warmed up.) one of the photographers then said, "alright! let's put them both on his lap and get some good shots!" ella was a little tentative, but climbed on up...carrie started crying before i plopped her down. before you judge me and call me a bad mother for putting her through that, she sat there for approximately .5 seconds. (enough for the camera to flash.) she is reaching for me in the picture, because i am standing right there. i felt bad for her, but it was pretty funny. (and the picture is priceless.) she was not having any parts of it and wanted everyone (including the rabbit) to feel her pain. (as if he probably wasn't already having a bad day.)

the kicker to all this is that after it was all over...we were staring at (laughing at) the proofs on the computer and the photographer said (again, she was dead serious), "so which package would you like to buy?" (PACKAGE!?) i bust out laughing and said, "ummm...how about the cheapest one?" this isn't a framer, lady. we don't need multiple 8 x 10's and shit. she then said, "ok, that'll be $22 for two 4 x 6's." if that isn't a kick in the balls, i don't know what is. (sheesh!) i bet butch was pissed he didn't have a coupon. carrie was still peering over my shoulder at this point, making sure that bunny was still sitting. i don't blame her, because as my uncle put it, "he looks like a registered sex offender." (blahahah!) so as we walked away with our overpriced pictures and on to get an orange julius, i couldn't help but think this is yet another thing that they don't tell you about in the parenting books. stuff like, "your kid will be so afraid of a costumed creature that she will legitimately lose her mind when encountering one that she is supposed to be excited to see." (no doubt santa claus would've also sent her into a tailspin as well.) so i must say, i am good on mall trips for the next, like, year or so. the fact that we just so happened to run into that rabbit, made it that much more painful. however, ella seemed to enjoy herself and i guess in the end that's all that matters. we walked out of there that day with two pairs of new shoes, two over priced priceless pictures, and one more memory to add to the bank. that's a win in my book...but i'm not quite sure my one year old would agree.

fool

so i act like a fool on most days, so why shouldn't april 1st be the same? i pulled pranks on my students, like telling them they had to write every word in the dictionary 5 times for homework (five year olds are so easy, they fell for it)...and then moved on to my husband around noon. i sent a swift text to him and stated that i thought that i might be pregnant. i chuckled to myself as i hit send and thought..."he'll never fall for it." we are both teachers, and students will always remind you of every holiday...no matter how silly it may seem. (april fool's day, included.) i thought for sure he would write back, "april fools!"...or "yeah right!"...or..."i want a divorce." (whoops.) however, when he got all silence on the lambs with me from the other end i thought holy hell i really did it this time. he's hightailing it to mexico right this moment, and i'm up chesapeake shit creek without a paddle, people. the thing is this, i know damn well how warren feels about having more children. to put it kindly, he's "done." his bird is cooked. our kids have made his hair gray and his wallet empty. (done.) i was kindly reminded of this the other night, when he told me to post the baby swing (that is currently being stored in carrie's room) on craigslist. i said, "well, i was going to, but then thought maybe we weren't really ready to do that just yet..." he paused, turned around, and if looks could kill...i would have had yellow caution tape wrapped right over and tightly around my uterus slash vaginal region. (no joke.)

moving on, he didn't call or text the rest of the day...so when he walked in the door he asked (as he pulled a bud light out of the fridge), "so what was with that text?" i was making dinner and i replied, "well i just feel kinda weird, like i did when i was pregnant with carrie." he cracked his beer...and gave me the stink eye. (it was hard not to laugh.) i went on..."how would you really feel about having another one?" he closed his eyes and took a long (exaggerated) swig from the can and replied, "listen...we can't AFFORD another one right now. can't AFFORD IT." in other words, there are not enough coupons in the world for you to make me want to have another child. (if you just started reading my posts, you should read this link about it: coupon. he has an obsession.) he took another gulp and shook his head. (he looked bad. real bad.) i feared a heart attack or some other catastrophic life altering event...so i casually asked, "do you know what day it is?" (he looked puzzled.) he was probably thinking, "birthday?, anniversary?, shit...i don't know?!" then it clicked and he looked way elated and relieved, "it's APRIL FOOL'S DAY!" and then he grabbed, shook, and assaulted me. (while laughing.) as i finished up dinner, both kids came into the kitchen about 8 times and asked me for a snack. (why do they DO that?!) carrie hung on my left leg until i dished out some goldfish crackers and ella held out for a piece of string cheese by repeating that she wanted one as many times as she possibly could before i flipped my lid. even though dinner was going to be ready in like 10 minutes, they need snacks. (why.) ten minutes later, we ate dinner incident free (always a plus), and then butch took the kids up for their bath.

i was washing dishes downstairs...and i shit you not, it sounded like my entire kindergarten class was in the tub up there. i heard laughter, screams, crying, yelling...the works. it didn't sound like 2 kids, it sounded like 20. for a brief minute, i turned off the tap water and thought maybe i should go up to help...but then i thought, "nah, it's more fun to listen." (i speak the truth.) i moved onto folding laundry as barnum and bailey wrapped up their show in the bathroom upstairs. when my husband walked down, he said, "ella just told me that the boys at her daycare have different butts than she does."  oh boy. (he eyeballed me.) now to be clear, ella calls everything "down there" a "butt." one time a coupla weeks ago, i tried to correct her by saying, "you, mommy, and carrie all have a vagina." she shrieked, "a WHAT!? i don't have one of THOSE! only big people have 'CHINAS!" (oh my god.) she caught me totally off guard, so i just shook my head and didn't really correct her. i don't know exactly when it's the "right" time to talk to your kids about their private parts, but now that she is noticing the difference between the boy and girl parts, i guess it's just about that time. so after butch mentioned she said this in the tub, i said to her..."your girl parts are called a vagina and boys have a penis. they are different." even though i said this with a dead straight face (i have no idea how i pulled that off), she still started giggling uncontrollably. (she also repeated the word "penis" about 8 times, because she thought it sounded funny. my guess is because it has the word "pee" in it.) then i said, "...both girls and boys have a butt." more uncontrollable laughter outta her (and my husband. jesus.)...then she randomly started singing her ABC's and asked me if she could have some fruit snacks. (glad that went well.)

later that night, i was sitting downstairs enjoying the quiet of kiddie bedtime and butch stomped down like a bull from upstairs and said, "ella shit herself and needs to be changed, where are the wipes?" (done.) i told him i thought there were some in the other room as he sighed and walked away. although potty training is going pretty well (we have the pees down), she is still scared to poop on the potty. so she is real sneaky about it and after we put her to bed in the privacy of her own room, she poops her pants. (par for the course.) she must've heard butch walk up the steps and yelled to him to change her, so therefore he was the winner of that magical load. (sorry suckaaaaa!) so after this week i know a coupla things for sure and they are as follows: i'm thankful my husband did not leave me up chesapeake shit creek without a proverbial paddle and my first born now knows the proper name for private parts ('china and PEEnis...never mind the pronunciation). moreover, to prevent any future heart attacks i'm guessing warren should get his testicles tied up. i'm pretty sure he could find someone on craiglist to do that...right after he gets done posting the baby swing. i don't think he would be caught dead using a coupon for such a procedure....however, i wouldn't put it past him. for now, i will not be removing the yellow caution tape from my lady parts, especially in the wake of his murderous looks...but i think that a discount vasectomy would really, truly be one for the books. if he gets clipped and uses a coupon, i'll be sure to keep you posted.