merry

this morning at my house.

so every year i kinda forget how fun the holiday season is. it always takes getting the decorations out of the attic...and introducing that creepy stuffed elf back on the scene in order for me to start to feel festive. i always feel nostalgic when i light my great grandmother's ceramic tree for the first time and the elf is just like icing on the cake. we read the story at home on sunday and on monday i pulled the infamous book and box out of my storage closet at school and set it out by my rocking chair. when the kids lined up in the hallway, i knew i better hold onto my chalk cause they were about to lose their little minds. they all entered the classroom as if fired out of a cannon and it didn't take long for them to spy our new friend. all of them had similar reactions...found somewhere between screaming and crapping their pants. i've said before that a classroom elf should come with a complimentary ritalin salt lick to attach to the door. their excitement over this elf is always palpable, like if you stuck your tongue out you would taste christmas in the air. it's no wonder why the two women who created the elf are millionaires...it truly is magic. a stuffed elf fueled by a child's imagination and christmas? only something magical can come from that. anyways, i had two students absent that day, so i knew we would be rereading the story and explaining his venture on tuesday as well. the kids voted on "peter" as his name, coming second to "mr. hinkles." (was hoping for mr. hinkles.)

when tuesday arrived, the two students who were out the day before sauntered into the classroom unexpectedly. one child has been absent for over a quarter of the year so far and came in with no bookbag on his back, hair all over his head, and no coat. he smiled at me sleepily and then his eyeballs caught sight of the elf hanging from the mini blinds like an acrobat. he froze. then slowly looked at me, looked at the elf, looked back at me...and this is one of those moments i wish i had a video camera in my room. his facial expression was AWESOME. he really didn't have to say anything...his face said it all. the rest of the kids were quick to fill him in on what he missed the day before, just as the other child who was absent monday walked right behind him. this particular child is a behavior problem most days and doesn't have a very stellar home life. he smiled at me and said, "what's he doing here?" pointing at peter. i said, "he joined us yesterday and will be reporting to the north pole to santa each night about what he sees in the classroom." he looked at me skeptically and smiled again. while he unpacked his things for the day he was staring at the elf trying to make sense of it...wondering if this elf was legit. actually all of the children's reactions were amazing, so much so that i asked them to raise their hands to tell me who has an elf on the shelf at home. not one child raised their hand. (not one.) so this concept was new to them....and made it even more amazing for me.

on wednesday, i coincidentally did a science lesson in the afternoon about "living and non-living things." we made a list of living and non-living things on the board. my students did a great job of listing both, then my skeptical buddy from the day before raised his hand and said, (pointing to peter) "well what is he?" i stared at him. he stared back and said, "is our elf living or non-living?! you said he comes to life at night, but during the day he doesn't move...so which row would we put peter in?!?" (ohhhh helllll...) in kindergarten, you have to think quick on your toes, cause these kids ask no less than 2389 questions. per day. i replied, "you have an interesting point...and this is a tricky one!" the kids started to chatter. i said, "turn and talk to the people at your table and discuss whether or not you think peter is living or non-living." this brought rise to an intense turn table talk that would put congress to shame. kids were arguing their points to one another such as, "well at NIGHT he needs food and water to survive and fly back to the north pole...and during the DAY he needs a place to live...so he's living." one child pointed and said, "but look at him now! he's not MOVING! HE'S NOT ALIVE!" and so we decided to list our elf right at the bottom of the list between living and non-living things. most were satisfied...my little buddy in the back of the class smirked at me.

meanwhile back at the home front our elf "snowflake" entered the scene on sunday. my first and second born are so excited about this thing that it makes me wonder why some parents boycott it! you don't have to do much with the elf...except remember to move it (which we forgot three out of the four nights and had to run down in the morning to do so). it really doesn't take much time, energy, or effort...and their reactions are worth it. the man who lives in my house is rivaling clark griswold with his light display in the front. it looks like old saint nick puked christmas all over the place. last year, there was an unspoken contest between him and the guy across the street. this year, the neighbor hasn't done anything yet. (butch thinks he won.) i went outside one night when he was working on the lights and i was about to bitch about how tacky it looked...just as a women stopped her car on the street, rolled down her window and yelled, "i love your lights! thank you for doing this! it's beautiful!" butch yelled back "thanks and merry christmas!" just as i shut my mouth and went back inside. i think we can learn a lot about the holiday season from children and their excitement about it. as my kids danced around the living room and carrie accidentally smashed butch's balls last night while frosty sang the soundtrack...i was thankful for my own children and my students at school at christmastime. as my husband sneezed violently and spilled boilo in his crotch, prompting him to look like he peed his pants...i sipped my wine and realized the holiday spirit is in full swing. so shimmy out of that grinch costume y'all and find your inner child. as an adult, you may not want to scream or crap your pants over christmas...but you have to admit this time of year is nothing short of magical. may your days be merry and bright!

easier

so i'm at the point in motherhood where things are getting easier...and by easier i mean i don't feel so bat shit crazy anymore. easier meaning i've graduated from middle of the night feedings and diapers. easier meaning my kids aren't as needy. don't get me wrong, there are other motherhood obstacles like what happened to me this morning. things that they don't tell you about in the parenting books, because otherwise you would rather run for the hills than raise a kid. things like pulling into the parking lot of an elementary school and seeing every kid skipping into the front doors wearing a costume and your kid is in the backseat saying, "i didn't think we were supposed to WEAR costumes!" meanwhile, my second born was fully dressed as a bumble bee and here's my first born dressed as...herself. so the story really begins friday, when carrie woke up at 4:32am with a fever. she climbed into bed with me ('can i lay wis you?') and when i wrapped my arms around her she felt like a log that had just been rolled off of a campfire. i whispered, "are you feeling alright?! you are really warm..." she said, "i feels cold and hots at the same times." (crap.) so knowing i had a full day of stuff planned ahead at school (and so did butch), i texted the alternate sitter who also keeps my children when they are sick sometimes. ella had a two hour early dismissal that day from school anyways, so i decided to also send her to the sitter instead (bad decision, as you will see).

so fast forward to monday, and i have a "work from home day" (to work on my grades) and therefore was going to be able to make the parade at carrie's school. fast forward to monday where i didn't get the memo from ella's elementary school on friday saying she was supposed to dress up and would also have a parade. fast forward to monday where i thought i would have most of a "free" day to myself. so upon pulling into the school and seeing dinosaurs, superheroes, princesses, and other costumes galore, i knew my day was going to take a turn. i told ella i would run home and get her costume after i dropped off carrie and come back. i ran into carrie's preschool sans bra like my hair was on fire, dropped her off, ran home, put on a brassiere, grabbed ella's ladybug get up, and flew back up to the school. the parade was at 8:45am and it was 8:32am when i parked. i got out and there were other parents lining the sidewalk. i had the ladybug costume in my hand i felt the judgy looks from other moms. i was "that" mom this morning. "that" mom that forgot to dress her kid in costume. "that" mom with her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, glasses, and pajamas. "that" mom who didn't have her shit together. i ran down the hallway to ella's class after getting hairy eyeballs from a secretary wearing a scarecrow outfit. (screw you, scarecrow!) ella's face lit up when she saw me and said, "i was the only one not wearing one! i'm glad you are here! "that" mom.

so anyway, i went out and stood with some other mom friends and snapped pictures. the other moms i was standing with cast no judgment though, they are mom friends that understand that the struggle is real. after the parade, i went home and finally got my first cup of coffee. i sat down and enjoyed it while watching the food network, which was actually a win in my book. (hot coffee that is not in a travel mug? mom win.) i had exactly one hour until i had to be at carrie's preschool for her parade, so i did what any normal mom would do...folded laundry, emptied the dishwasher, and cleaned up the house. i also had time in there to wash my face, put in my contacts, and change out of my pajamas as well. (another win!) when i walked into my second borns school at 11am, i already felt like i had put in a whole day. after lunch, i decided to take her home with me and ella also had a 2 hour early dismissal again, so i picked her up early. to be clear, my mostly free day off with nothing to do turned into one hour of "free" time spent doing chores. despite this, do i feel incredibly lucky to be able to have seen the smiles on both of my kids faces when they saw me at their respective parades? yes. will i forever remember the fact that i was "that" mom this morning as my kid walked into school sans costume? yes. do i still understand the struggle of motherhood even though i'm not so bat shit crazy as when they were newborns? yes.

just know that when you see those cute smiley halloween faces on social media...there is always something more going on behind the scenes. for example, a braless mother that didn't get the memo that her kid was supposed to be in costume that day and then had to run around like a chicken with her head cut off to make it happen. i think a lot of us look like we have our shit together...but really most of us have one foot in crazytown, trying to make it all work. most of us are doing the best we can with that we have and hoping we aren't turning our kids into future serial killers. most of us would take a bullet for our kids, but know they still make us bat shit crazy from time to time. so as we step foot outside tonight for trick or treat there are two things i know for sure: 1. there might be something stronger than coffee in my travel mug as i walk through the neighborhood and 2. all the snickers are mine. i survived six years of motherhood so far and as each phase passes, i slowly forget the struggles from the prior ones. the sleepless nights are substituted with sick campfire logs that climb into bed. the bottle feedings are replaced with leaving school like my hair is on fire to grab a costume so my kid doesn't feel left out. all i know that it's all happening so fast and i'm holding on to dear life to each passing moment...regardless of how bat shit crazy it makes me. my children complete me and make me feel whole...along with the help of wine and chocolate. happy halloween to you and yours!

balance

so i'm at that point during summer vacation where my liver and waistline are screaming. not having a normal (healthy) routine each day leads to lackidaisical meals...such as wine and popcorn for dinner. i always hit a wall at some point...and sunday is when i was wacked with the will do better for myself. summer always offers options of the best fruits and vegetables...and also extra time to work out. after a week hiatus from my children, they burst through the doors of my (clean, for once) house and started immediately wrecking shit. i don't really allow technology in my house and i also turn the television off when i think they have been staring too long. i don't judge other moms who placate their children this way...you do what you have to do to survive. however, as a kindergarten teacher, i've seen children figure out what to do with their "free time" sans technology. i read somewhere that kids don't know how to be bored anymore because they are constantly being bombarded with stuff. when kids get bored their imagination goes into overtime and excellent things happen. i've seen it with my own eyeballs time and time again. so while i prepared my first healthy dinner for the week, salmon with mango salsa, they got busy making a blanket fort. did they make a shit mess of my living room? yes. were they a pain in the ass for part of the time? yes. did i still get dinner done? yes. here's a visual:

so monday morning i stepped on the scale for the first time in a LONG time...and i was startled by my discovery. i gained approximately 8 pounds since summer started. 8 pounds might not sound like a lot in your book...but i know how weight gain goes. 5 turns into 8, 8 turns into 10, 10 turns into 24 and suddenly you are sitting on your dorm room floor eating a can of ravioli and washing it down with a natty ice with your college roommate wondering why all your clothes don't fit. (i may or may not be speaking from experience.) anyway, i was blown away by the number on the scale which made me realize my campaign for healthy food was in order. i also went to the gym that morning and did not only interval training on the treadmill, but a HIIT workout as well. i knew very well i may not be able to walk the next morning, but it was much needed. moreover, sweating like a moose makes you feel much better both physically and mentally no matter what. i prepared clean food choices for myself all day, and then for dinner i made sauteed shrimp with cherry tomatoes, which was delicious. when fen called and said she'd be staying around the corner in her pre-marital home that night...it took everything in my power not to slug a box of wine with her. i decided against it, cause i had already made the choice to do an early yoga session the next morning. (namaste means not mass amounts of wine.)

yoga was a game changer. a complete game changer i tell you. i used to do the occasional yoga class prekids and it only took me 6 years to take another class. now let me tell you...i'm no gumby and it wasn't pretty. plus, i was pretty sore from my workout from the previous day so my mobility was waning even further. BUT, when i walked out of there it felt like chatum tanning just had his way with me. i felt so freakin good that i wondered why it took me so long to get back into it. i went to another morning power yoga class today and it was awesome. (winning!) after a walk later in the day with a friend, i got crackin on dinner which was bacon wrapped asparagus, sauteed mushrooms...and i left the steak up to butch on the grill. (it was all delicious.) so fast forward to wednesday morning i woke up and felt like a walking asshole. i made an attempt to get out of the bed to go to the gym early and it just didn't happen. i laid there until i had 4 eyeballs staring at me...and two mouths asking me for food. i swear all i am these days is a glorified waitress. all these kids do is eat! anyways, my body was all like, "yo, rocky...take a rest." so i listened. i packed the kids up for a pool playdate, came home later and made dinner...which consisted of chicken kale sausage and mashed cauliflower. don't get me wrong...i'm a sucker for a good mashed potato, but this is an excellent substitute if you don't want to grow a second set of ass cheeks. (so good!)

this morning i woke up and lo and behold...i didn't feel like ass. actually, i felt the opposite of ass and laced up my shoes for a 4 mile run at 5am in the morning (i know, wtf.) there is only one thing i hate more than running on the treadmill...and that is running in the heat. it was supposed to hit 90 later and the humidity in maryland is fierce. even at 5am, it was so high that i felt like i was running through a bowl of soup! as i channeled my inner rocky in that moment, i had dreams of coming home and having a cup of coffee before the kids woke up. (no dice.) when i came in the door i was met by a "hi, mommy! how was yours WUN?!" from my second born. this was shortly followed by an argument about why she couldn't have pizza at 6:17am for breakfast. if you haven't argued about such a thing so early in the morning...you really haven't lived. so what are some things i learned this week? trying new recipes is good. so is trying a new exercise routine. if you are like me you get stuck doing (and eating) the same things over and over when it really doesn't take much to shake it up. maybe i'm the only person on the planet to gain weight in the summer rather than the winter...but i'm glad i can recognize it. luckily i've come a long way from the girl that was sitting on the floor of her dorm room eating ravioli from a can. tonight i will go boating with friends and then imbibe in some wine with fen...but maybe like 3 glasses instead of half a box? (balance!). get busy livin or get busy dyin, people. we only get this one life. above all...treat yourself well.

seventeen

seventeen years ago on this day, when i was seventeen, i lost a dear friend of mine in a tragic hiking accident when i was in high school. although it has been seventeen years, the memory of that day and losing jon is forever in my heart and mind. tragedies (and triumphs) have a way of sticking with us long after the day leaves us. the date is always a reminder. in some ways this is a blessing, and in others it is a curse. although this incident made me learn hard lessons at a young age, i am one of those people that believes that everything happens for a reason. from the time we are born until the time we die, our plan is laid out for us and sometimes what you think is supposed to happen in your life does happen. sometimes it doesn't. i believe we meet certain people to teach us lessons along the way and people come in and out of our lives for that purpose. anyway, enough preaching...these are some of the ways that this tragedy shaped my life thus far. 

first of all, i remain friends with many of the same people (seventeen year olds) that i went to high school with and were also involved in this incident. it forced a bond between us that i feel will never be broken. i love and respect these people and will be attending weddings for four (four! wtf.) of them (including fen!) this year. good people and friends are hard to come by, so i never take that for granted. secondly, i married jon's best friend. butch and i were close since the time we met in sixth grade, but when i started dating jon, butch was more of the third wheel and was around all the time. the three of us have so many memories that i am forever thankful for. third, my first born was born on the same day that jon died, but 11 years later (cue spooky music). could this be a coincidence? possibly. but i choose to believe otherwise. ella's birth transformed a very sad day for both butch and i and made it into something special.

finally, the older i get the more i realize that life is too damn short. now that i have children, lightening speed is more like it. my mentality when i was seventeen is so different than now, but after jon's death i realized that if you don't find the good and fun in every single day, it will be lost. since then, i have chosen to live out loud. i work hard (well, during the school year), play hard, appreciate everything i have, and let the people in my life know that i love them. although i don't have rainbows and unicorns shooting out of my ass at all times, i try to be happy and kind to other people around me as much as i can. i love the quote that says that people are often fighting a battle that you know nothing about. it's so true. it's human nature to judge people, but how we treat them is a different story. i've met a lot of people along the way, and appreciate each person that has come into my life, because they have taught me an important lesson in some way.

along with jon's wicked sense of humor, i also miss his roguish smile, his sarcasm, his love of music, and his ability to make others laugh. he was also my first love. the day after he passed away, his mom said to me, "he will forever be seventeen. he won't age, he won't go to college, he won't get married...he will always just be seventeen in our hearts and minds." that stuck with me always. how jon truly lived in his seventeen years is a testament to his character and to the people he knew and loved. i know for a fact that jon meant a lot of different things to a lot of different people...and i also know that he is thought about and missed by a lot of different people. maybe you will be raising your glass to another memory that is meaningful to you tonight...maybe another tragedy or triumph that has stuck with you over the years, like me. make sure you appreciate that moment and hold onto the things that are momentous in your life. as i watch my 6 year old blow out her candles, i will raise my glass to her, to all things i am thankful for, and to a guy who is forever seventeen...but will certainly never be forgotten.

perspective

ironically, the very first blog i ever wrote was about gorillas...and how a kid drew a picture of some that ended up looking like legitimate black man parts. (yes!) all this talk about this damn gorilla made me somehow remember that after several glasses of wine last night. another thing that happened earlier last night was as follows: my second born wasn't feeling great and asked me to climb into bed and lay with her until she fell asleep. usually i just rub her back and she drifts off to dream land, but this time she turned toward me and we were face to face. instinctively, i did something that i used to do to both of my kids when they were babies. when i was trying to lull them to sleep, i rocked them and would rub my thumb over their forehead and down their nose, kind of like in a repeat T pattern. as i started to do this to carrie, she was holding her blankie (which she calls her ginky) and sucking the same two fingers she has since birth. her eyes became heavy and as i laid there i suddenly became overly emotional. motherhood is such a kick in the uterus like that sometimes, because it catches you off guard. one minute i was just hoping (praying, even) she would (finally) go to sleep after a long line of bedtime shenanigans...and the next minute i was laying in her bed crying over a memory like a loon. (motherhood will make you bat shit crazy.)

anyways, after i had a moment (and she went to sleep) i went downstairs and poured myself a glass of wine from my (fancy) box. i clicked on the television...and also started scrolling through social media on my phone. you can't help but be slapped in the face by all this talk about this f'ing gorilla. so here's my take on the whole shebang...the first time i saw the video i was laying in a hotel bed, hungover as hell and willing my internal organs to work properly from fen's bachelorette festivities. (i wanted to die.) anyways, when i watched it...my stomach instantly hurt even worse and i was overwhelmed with fear for that child. (i almost puked.) then, i immediately thought about his mother and how SHE was feeling in that moment. if that was me...you bet your sweet ass i would've found a way to "wiggle" into the cage like my toddler. after i got in, i would be on that gorilla like white on rice. seriously man, i'd be floatin like a butterfly and stingin like a bee on his ass...beating the living shit out of him. (legit muhummad ali.) would i strangle that beast to death before i saw him hurt my child? yes. do i think they made the right call in killing it? yes. am i shocked that people are in an outright outrage about this gorilla being killed? not really. people are crazy. don't get me wrong...i love animals. however, i love children more. the mom made a mistake and the child didn't deserve to die because of it. end of story.

as a parent, i think your greatest fear is keeping your child safe. sometimes i can't even believe that i am actually responsible for two other little human beings. i mean, i have a hard time taking care of myself sometimes let alone these two dependent creatures. for the most part, i think i am doing an okay job, but most days i'm just happy they still have a pulse. i think my scariest parenthood moment was when carrie touched a hot iron and we had to go to the hospital because of it. i wasn't being neglectful...i just looked away for a minute. like that mom at the zoo did. as i laid in bed with her last night, with ella asleep nearby...i was thinking about that. i am thankful every single day for my children, no matter how bat shit crazy they make me. however, last weekend (without saying) i wanted (and needed) a break from reality when i headed off into the ocean city sunset with fen. maybe that mom just needed a minute to herself last weekend as well, when she instead ventured to the zoo with 4 kids. who knows what her story was and really...who cares? who are we to judge a woman we know nothing about. she made probably one of the worst mistakes of her life and an oversized monkey died. motherhood is hard enough, add that into the mix and sweet baby jesus i'd be running for the hills. the story could've ended a hundred different ways. however, anything that would make a me go ape shit (no pun intended) on a 400 pound gorilla without fear is pretty powerful in my book. perspective, people...please let's move on.

my own monkeys.

chauffeur

so we have now entered the stage in parenthood that i (not so) fondly refer to as...the chauffeur phase. instead of driving miss daisy...i'm constantly driving a daughter duo that both like to sing and act ridiculous from the backseat. they sure need to go a lot of places for people that can't drive. since spring has sprung, we now have soccer every night of the week and as an added bonus, tuesdays we have both dance AND soccer...allowing me to lose my mind just a little more. now don't get me wrong, i enjoy watching my kids involved in stuff. i love that they are part of a team and are gaining valuable social skills. i am constantly living vicariously through them as the run around on the field. however, all of that happy horseshit doesn't mean that it's not a pain in the dick. it IS a pain in the proverbial dick and running around to activities after i have worked a full day isn't quite my box of wine. on tuesdays (like tonight), i have to to allow the clown (as in ronald mcdonald) to cook for my kids, cause i just don't have time to do it any other way. if i don't feed them in between activities, they will be like little hannibal lectors running around in the grass. i wouldn't put that pain on any coach or anyone else involved. last tuesday, one mom gave me "a look" about feeding my kids mcdonalds and i almost wound up and punched her in the lady parts. i don't PREFER for the clown to feed my kids, but it is what it is lady...get over it. no worries, i gave the stink eye to her organic snacks.

the only plus side to this nonsense is that my husband and i have been somewhat sharing the responsibilities. however, he has said repeatedly, "why did we do this to ourselves!?!?" and if you think about it...we are the ones that signed them up for these activities, so it really does come back on us. but, how can you not? i have graduated with a doctorate in dirty diapers and have now moved on to a masters degree in soccer mom. most moms that i've talked to have said that just like every other phase, i will "miss this" when it's over when they stop needing me for my driving skills. people said that about the bottles, the diapers, the sleepless nights...everything. truth is, i DO miss those things. when i see pictures of either of my kids as babies i become overwhelmed with sadness that i will never get those babies back. i constantly battle with wanting another kid at some point, and then in the next minute i think about how that might take me right over the edge. ella has become so damn independent lately and such a help with her sister, that there has been a definite shift where things have become easier. i mean, i'm not sitting around eating bon bons and wondering what to do with all my free time, but i am able to get more stuff done and they can do stuff like dress themselves and use the bathroom facilities without my help. (i can breathe again.) if you would've told me this 4 years ago as i had new born and a 2 year old flouncing around, i wouldn't have believed you. new moms...it does get easier and it happens. fast.

so here we enter another week of running around like aholes for our kids' activities. after a weekend of whooping it up for my birthday, i'm feeling barely human. i love how when i was younger a hangover lasted like a couple hours...now it takes me like 3 days to feel normal. (days!) maybe by tomorrow i'll have my shit together. who knows. as i sat in the heat of of the sun at soccer practice for the second night in a row, i tried to take it all in. i talked with the gym teacher at my school today about all the running around i'm doing after school each day and she said, "i don't MISS THAT AT ALL!" (whoa!) but she said, "you know what? i hate when mom's always say they wish their kids were a certain age. i think we should all enjoy the moment and each and every minute that we can while our kids are the age they are. it makes more sense that way." you know what? she's right. each phase and stage in our kid's lives is fleeting, so if we keep wishing them to be a certain age (whether it be older or younger)...you are literally going to be missing the present moments. just because i stated that, doesn't mean it doesn't still suck balls to be driving around like a chauffeur in the present moment. (it does!) it just means i should be trying to enjoy being a chauffeur cause soon enough my kids are going to driving themselves around...and then i'll be sitting there worrying about them and wishing i was driving them again. parenthood is a constant kick in the pants in that regard. they make kids cute for a reason, and with cargo as cute as this i can't imagine anything different in this moment. also, when feeling overwhelmed...i use meditation and relaxation techniques to keep me sane after these long days. just kidding, i'm on my second glass of wine.

decisions

so it's no secret that my husband has a couponing addiction. although it has waxed and waned over the years, it's always in the forefront of his mind when he looking up deals or is shopping. he is not a cheap guy, but loves to save money whenever possible. (unless he's at the bar, then he'll buy every person a round. twice.) anyways, it was his "turn" last weekend (we take turns every other weekend) to go grocery shopping and he came home with some discounted meat. usually if we don't eat this meat within 2 or 3 days, it goes in to the freezer for later use. lo and behold, it never went into the freezer (more about that later) and we left for a little trip to pennsyltucky to visit with my family for the resurrection of christ (for those of you non religious people, that's easter.) so after a few days of working out our waistline and our liver in small town america, we headed back yesterday to the land of crabcakes and water views. within an hour of getting home, we got a call from a close friend that said they were heading to the ER with their youngest...cause the middle child hit him in the face with a golf club (accidentally) during his back swing. (oh boy.) i went along for the ride until she could meet her husband, and talked about the easter bunny to this little dude as his face swelled up like he was stung by a swarm of bees (welcome back to maryland!). mine had their own car shenanigans.

after that ordeal, we decided to go to the gym. after a workout, we headed home and he said he would (and i quote) "make dinner." i didn't think anything of it when my husband said there was some "pork" left over from last week and he was going to make some fried rice with it. although i do most of the cooking in our household, he does do some...and he's made this rice before so i said have at it. i went upstairs to take a shower and when i came back down, dinner was ready. we all sat down to eat and ella had her regular dinner of edamame (i know, so weird) and carrie was eating ramen noodles like a college student (butch loves that it's 10 cents a pack.) i don't know what goes on in your house, but the kids typically don't eat same thing as us (thank god in this case.) so fast forward, the kids are in bed, we are watching tv and my stomach starts to hurt. earlier in the evening, ella complained about a stomach ache and almost didn't make it to the bathroom, alarming me that there was a "little poop accident" in her underwear (dear lord.) pork for dinner...poop for dessert. so anyway, her pain went away, but mine intensified throughout the course of the evening, to the point where i was doubled over like i was in labor. i didn't feel nauseous, or like i had to shit my pants...it just hurt. it felt like the hulk reached in and was grabbing my stomach (the actual organ) and squeezing it as hard as he could.

i came downstairs on the couch and after about 2 hours of this pain (holy hell)...i went to the bathroom and unleashed what can only be described as a poisonous pork surprise. i seriously haven't seen that much vomit since senior week circa 2000, so it wasn't pleasant. i panicked as i was puking, because i knew if i stayed in that position over the toilet...i was also going to shit my pants. so here i am at almost 34 years old making life decisions about whether or not i should shit my pants...or puke on the floor. the trashcan was out of reach at this point, so i made a game time decision that i would sit on the toilet and puke on the floor if need be. thank god it was 3am and no one was around, because there were sounds coming out of my body that no human should make. my children surely would've thought i was dying in that moment and my husband would not be able to take me seriously ever again. after a solid 23 minutes of this, i stumbled back out to the couch like courtney love after a bad bender and looked like a straight up drug addict. my hair was all over my head, mascara running down my face, i was breathing heavy...and asking god to take me home. about a half hour later and a short respite, same thing again. and again. pleased to report i never did shit my pants, kudos to me for keeping it somewhat together.

this morning, i woke up (using that loosely) and walked out to the kitchen for some water. i hadn't been around any person that was sick, so started to investigate the pork situation, since it was the last thing that i ate. as i dug through the trash (again, like a drug addict) i found the pork container. the sell by date was march 20th, and he bought it on march 21st, on super sale for $3.91. to be clear, it was two pounds of bone in pork for $3.91...and we ate it on march 28th. he later told me he "didn't look at the date" and "it smelled fine." (and it did taste good?) so i gave him hell about it and he goes, "i'm not taking the blame for this! i didn't get sick and i ate the same thing!" one thing you need to know about this...butch has what can only be described as an iron gut. i have seen this kid in high school take crab and shrimp alfredo out of his car on a 90 degree day FROM THE NIGHT BEFORE and eat it with no adverse effects. he also eats sushi that should've been devoured long before he decides to eat it. so although there is a 1% chance that this could be some "bug" i picked up from somewhere else...i refuse to believe it. best thing is, this is our first day without kids on our spring break (we have spring break as teachers this week, and they have school. yahtzee!), and it has been spent in bed. i'm doing everything to rally so that i can attend paint nite tonight with some coworkers, something i've been looking forward to for a awhile. moreover, if the rest of spring break is spent making life decisions about whether or not to shit my pants...i want a goddamn do over. furthermore, it's my turn to the do the grocery shopping this week...hoping to slip in a surprise on the list for warren. like rat poison.

jeep

so last night i was standing in the kitchen after working all day, taking the kids to dance, making dinner, and doing dishes (whew.) at that point, i was preparing to pack lunches for the next day...and it's no secret that this is one of my most loathed motherly chores. i don't know why it is such a pain in the lady parts, but it is. i called out to ella and asked, "what do you want for lunch tomorrow?!" (i always ask, but it is usually the same old thing.) she skipped into where i was and said thoughtfully, "so i was thinking that instead of your normal peanut butter and jelly sandwich you make me...maybe you could take a cheese stick, wrap it up with a piece of ham, and then add a toothpick to it so it doesn't fall apart??" (what the hell.) i stared at her and must've made a face, cause she started laughing hysterically. then i put my hand on my hip and said, "so who at school has THAT for lunch?" she told me. all i could think was "pinterest is ruining the lives of the peanut butter and jelly moms of america." (for real.) because of this i am now expected to make an appetizer like lunch for my child with fancy toothpicks and everything?! i looked at ella and said, "well first of all i don't have any ham and second of all maybe next week." she kind of snickered and skipped out of the room. (she knows better.) screw you, pinterest.

so after i put the kids to bed that night, i was supposed to go out for an adult beverage with my friend fen and her roommate. (let's call her fillian for anonymity.) the special occasion? warm weather. (like we need an excuse.) so when i got home that day, i left the top down on my jeep, cause i had planned on picking them up (that comes into play later.) in a shocking (but not really) twist of events, fen was leaving her job in DC and the one and only route she could take to come home...was completely shut down. it started with "i'm in traffic" texts, to a full blown pissed off texting rant...and then an irate phone call. she was freaking out and after about an hour, we realized she wouldn't be back to our town until much later...and we would have to do our warm weather celebration another night. in the meantime, i put on yoga pants and stretched out on the couch for that approximate one hour i have between my kid's bedtime and my own bedtime. butch was watching borhat and laughing his ass off. i convinced him to change it to house of cards and started to get into the show. an hour later, i sat up and realized i didn't put the top back on the jeep. (shit.) so right before bed, i threw on a sweatshirt and went out there to take care of the situation.

putting the top down was easy. a coupla clips, a coupla straps...and two coworkers who helped me. i went out there to do the reverse of that and i couldn't get the clips to clip. i struggled and cursed myself for a while and then went in to beckon warren. he was laying there in boxer shorts and a t-shirt with his laptop on his stomach. after sighing loudly and putting on slippers, he came out to help me. we tried like hell for a while and couldn't get the top to budge. it was like pulled tight across the top and we couldn't get the clips to reach. after about 10 minutes he said, "i'm going to put on some pants! i'm freezing! i'm in boxer shorts chrissake!" (i hope our neighbors were looking.) so he came back out (wearing pants) and we continued to try to get this thing back on. i started to mentally flip out, because i knew the temperatures were supposed to dip even further...and i had to DRIVE TO WORK THE NEXT MORNING. he went back in and we googled, only to go back out for another 15 minutes to try again (nothing.) he said, "so worse case scenario you have to drive to work with the top down tomorrow." i said, "worse case scenario!? i'm gonna freeze my tits off! not to mention that i'm going to look like a complete dick with my top down in 40 degree weather!" (he laughed.) i went from feeling cool to feeling like a total tool...in 30 degrees flat.

so anyway, after about 40 minutes of wrestling with this thing, we just decided to go up to bed. i messaged a friend of mine on the facebook and asked her if she ever had this problem. she wrote back and said her friend had the same issue that i did when the temperatures dip down. the top has a hard time "relaxing" and going back into place when it's cold. therefore, my procrastination led to my problem. (crap.) she told me to put it in the garage and run the heat. (i don't have a garage.) at that point i kind knew that i would be driving down the highway in the morning sans jeep top and looking like a total idiot all the while freezing my ass off. i'm glad i had the night to mentally prepare for that. (my kids didn't...which you will see.) luckily their daycare is literally right down the street, so i knew they wouldn't be cold for long. i told them what happened and ella stared at me with the same smirk she had about the pinterest lunch she wanted me to prepare. we are the same person in so many ways, that sometimes i can actually see exactly what she is thinking even when she isn't saying anything. meanwhile, my second born was still talking about how "cool" it was that the top was down and i was thinking, "well you better get ready to to go from cool to cold, sister...cause that's where we are headed." i texted fen and told her my predicament. she told me i'm the worst mother ever (thanks for that.)  then i snapped this picture this morning to send to her. (enjoy.)

so after i dropped off the kids, the ride into work was brutal. the heat in the jeep is legit, but it was no match for the 40 degree temperature outside and cruising along at 80mph down a four lane highway on my 40 minute commute. people were definitely staring and i saw several double takes (what the helllll is she doing?!...). i waved and smiled at some of them as they were shaking their head. i was wearing a scarf, a vest...and a sign on my forehead that said dumbass. the day before i was just telling my husband how much i enjoy the "jeep wave" and i mentioned that i think all people with the same cars should wave at each other. it's a very friendly custom and makes you feel like you belong to some elite club. (i love it!) on that note, he turned to me before he walked out the door this morning and said, "my guess is that you are going to get ZERO jeep waves this morning. ZERO." all i could do was laugh...he was probably right. if i saw some asshole driving down the road in freezing temps in a jeep with the top down, i would think they were a total idiot. (this morning, i was that idiot.) as i walked out of work into 80 degree temps, i was seriously hoping that the top would be "relaxed" when i went home so that i could close it for tomorrow morning (i also went to the dealership for my buddy zach to show me how to do it properly. f google.) someone once said that procrastination leads to piss poor performance...in this case it led to a jeep top that wouldn't close and looking real stupid. (par for the course.) just another day in paradise, people. bring on spring.

vomit

there is something very humbling about having another human being vomit on you or even in your general vicinity. as a kindergarten teacher, it's pretty much an occupational hazard. however, when you are a mother, it's just a not so pretty part of the gig. last friday i was loving life and had what can be described as the 'friday high'. i think most people are pretty excited when they make it to the end of the week and friday is usually a fantastic day to be alive. so i'm all carpe'ing the shit out of diem and then got the dreaded phone call from the school nurse that stated this on my voicemail..."i have ella in the office here, she ate lunch and then proceeded to vomit all over the place. it was a substantial amount. you need to come pick her up." (a substantial amount.) i hit the "end" button and my friday high turned into friday fright. the wind was let out of my sails and i quickly had to find coverage for my class. when i got to her school to pick her up, the nurse brought her out and she was pale...she smiled at me and looked so small for some reason. we went home and she proceeded to puke for the rest of the afternoon...sometimes making it in the bucket, sometimes not. sometimes making it in the toilet, sometimes not. sometimes making it in my cupped hands held in front of her, sometimes not. i'm glad i changed into sweats that day, because my work clothes didn't stand a chance.

to add insult to injury, she was supposed to go to a daddy slash daughter dance that night at her school. she looked me in the eye after one of her more violent puking jags and said, "so can i still go to the dance?" i explained that not only would she spread germs around to all her friends, her dad wouldn't appreciate her barfing on his shoes while doing the cupid shuffle. she laughed...but then the tears came. there isn't much worse than seeing your own child disappointed. she was so, SO upset and it seriously broke my soul. i had a moment in the kitchen and then went back out and said, "you and daddy can go on a special date another time when you are feeling better." she said, "yeah...but it won't be the same." (it felt like someone socked me in the stomach.) this is one of the things the parenting books can't really prepare you for...a disappointed kid that is. there was nothing really that i could do to make that situation better. she was sick and just had to deal with being disappointed about missing the dance...while i watched. (it was a tough one...i almost did a shot of whiskey in the afternoon to cope.) butch was equally upset when he came home and realized that they couldn't go. that night i crawled into bed with ella at bedtime until she fell asleep and hoped that we would have a quiet night after a day of a stomach bug that just wouldn't quit. (and that no one else would get it...)

luckily, she woke up the next morning feeling better and just ate a bunch of bland food all weekend. so monday night, we all thought we escaped the bug and at dinner time, butch said he was "so hungry" and came out to the table with a massive plate of spaghetti, sauce a plenty, and three large pieces of sausage. he scarfed it down, as he usually does. (more about that later.) now that night we had a chance of impending snow, so we thought we were definitely going to be off the next day. when it snows an inch in maryland, they shut down the whole damn state. i had a coupla glasses of wine, he had some guiness and about midnight i went to bed. at about 1:30am i was awoken by what can only be described as noises that no human being should ever be making...coming from the bathroom. i was all disoriented, but sat straight up as my husband stumbled out of the bathroom and moaned at me, "i'm sick." when he went back in for an encore...i took my pillow and headed downstairs to the couch. when butch pukes it's not an act...it's an event. he is super loud and dramatic about it and i actually had to go back upstairs and tell him to calm the hell down, because he was going to wake up the kids. (he glared at me.) lo and behold, we were punk'd my mother nature and there was no snow the next morning. i got up a little fuzzy and got the kids dressed, ready for school, and fed as he laid in the bed moaning.

part of me did feel bad for him, because i witnessed what ella went through and it wasn't pretty. however, i wondered how long this was going to go on. i knew ella's was less than 24 hours and assumed his was going to be the same. (nope.) so tuesday i took the kids to irish dance after school, made dinner, packed lunches for the next day, bathed them, put them to bed....and he didn't move. (like a dead person in the bed.) wednesday he went back to work, and then proceeded to come home and go back to bed..while i did all the nightly duties again. i started to get pissed at this point and said, "mannnn ella took this bug like a trooper compared to you! this is really bad huh?" i may have mentioned that even at 5 years old, women are stronger than men when they are sick. (he actually agreed.) then he said, "you know how i ate all that spaghetti and sausage that night? well it just sat in my stomach like a rock...and then flew out all over the place. it was saucy and disgusting." (omg.) he went on..."i really don't know how you were ever pregnant. i was in so much pain and there was nothing i could do and my stomach hurt so bad. is that what it was like when you were pregnant? i could never do it." i wanted to mention after allllll the pain i had to muster up the energy to fire a PERSON out of my lady parts...but didn't go there. also, if i mentioned him firing person out of his penis in that moment he probably would've passed out.

so flash forward to this friday and i had a great time at school with my kindergarteners celebrating valentine's day. we did lots of crafts and activities having to do with the holiday and it is always refreshing to discuss love with 5 year olds. they keep it simple and real and say the best stuff. for example, loving someone means "sharing the broom with each other during clean up time at the end of the day."(yep.)  as i was driving home, my good friend who runs the daycare where the kids go called me and said, "carrie has been super whiny and dramatic today...i think she is sick." (NOT AGAINNNNNN.) so i called the doctor immediately and took her. turns out it was just a cold. (thank god.) so to be clear, last friday i was nursing a barfing kid during happy hour...and this friday i was at the pediatricians. (if that sounds like fun, parenting might be for you.) after we got home, i heard my 3 year old screaming slash crying and running toward me..."aaaAAAAGHHH! there is SUMPIN in the BATHFOOMmmm!!!" (she was losing her mind.) i figured it was spider or something, but judging from her reaction, i thought it might be an extra from the walking dead or something equally as scary. i scooped her up, took her to the bathroom, and told her to show me what was scaring her (see below.) so to be clear, she was terrified of...a TOOLBOX. my toddler was scared of a toolbox. (par for the course.) this season and all this sickness can be over any day now. until then, i will think warm thoughts, sip my wine...and continually pray for no more puke. party on.

jonas

when people said i would have unconditional love for my children, i think they were referring to the fact that i would spend approximately 27 minutes bundling them up for outside...only to have to them come back in 4 minutes later saying they are too cold. (that happened this morning.) the little one also announced after i had her all dressed, "my butt hurts." i said, "your butt hurts?" she said, "take all this off and look at my butt!!! it hurts!!!" (what the hell?) that unconditional love comes into play, because you really want to lose your shit in that moment...but you don't. so we are on like day four of this snowpocolypse and i've noticed that this storm has allowed people to flaunt their drinking habits without judgement. everyone's all like, "it's snowing, so vodka for breakfast is acceptable." we all applaud each other for it as well..it's kinda funny. "you having beer for lunch?!...yep! me too!" i have no idea when we will be able to go back to school, as our road has not even been touched one time by a plow. (not once.) this extra time at home has allowed me to do something i've been dreading for a very long time...and that is clean out the 'nursery' and all the baby crap that i've been hanging on to. yesterday i poured a bloody mary and got busy...but let me tell you it wasn't easy.

the newborn and baby stage with both kids went by like a blur and now that we don't need bottles and bibs anymore, it's time to say goodbye to them. never did i ever think that i would shed a tear while packing up these things, but that's exactly what i did. my stomach was in knots and butch came in at one point and said, "um, are you alright?" i said, "yes!" (no.) this comes after this past week at dance when ella came out of the studio and proudly yelled, "MOMMY! GUESS WHAT?!" i said what! she yelped, "i HAVE A LOOSE TOOTH!" it felt like someone socked me in my stomach. things they don't tell you in the parenting book number 232: a loose tooth will make you feel sad. as a kindergarten teacher, i am a connoisseur of teeth. kids are constantly losing them, talking about losing them, showing me with a big smile when they lose them...it's a weekly occurrence. one time i had to write a heartfelt letter to the toothfairy, because a kid's tooth got lost in the mix of papers on my desk and we couldn't find it! luckily, she accepted my letter and left some loot. (the parent sent me a funny email thanking me as well.) anyways, now that it's my own kid with the wiggly tooth it's just another right of passage/growing up type of thing that caught me off guard. today? a loose tooth. tomorrow? college bound. it all happens too fast.

packing up the bottles and bibs was bittersweet...but the bloody mary did help some. next weekend my parents are bringing down carrie's "big girl bed" and we are putting both girls together in a room. better check back with me next saturday when that happens...because i might be in full motherhood meltdown mode. i have been enjoying the past couple of days being trapped with my kids in the house...and i do mean that whole heartedly. (sorta.) i have to say that my favorite moment from the past coupla days was when carrie was dropping a deuce in the bathroom, and ella sauntered in and sprayed lysol. it accidentally went into carrie's eyes so she was sitting on the toilet screaming with her eyes shut. when i realized what happened i asked ella why she did it. her reply? SHE STINKS! i said, "i don't care if she stinks, you can't spray your sister with LYSOL!" (things i thought i would never say as a parent.) so who knows how many more days will be spent home from school...but i promise you i am already a little stir crazy. there is only so much cleaning and laundry one can do before losing their mind...let's not forget the fact that this storm has not been good for the waistline or the liver, either. i'm about to bundle my kids up for the third time today, so that they can go out and play for another 4 minute jag. with that in mind, i raise my mimosa to winter storm jonas...and also how cute my littlest one looks in snowpants. salud!