forties

so something shifts in your forties and weird stuff just starts happening with your body and everything else, actually..i really wish people would have warned me about this. for example, about a month ago my husband decided to veer left on our choice of laundry detergent (rhymes with rain), which then somehow led to my seemingly unexplainable itching and a relentless rash. it took me about 3 and half  weeks and a picture upload to the chat gpt to figure it out, but what in the middle age is this? sensitive skin? i don’t even know who i am anymore. i do believe perimenopause and about a million dateline episodes made me subconsciously think that my husband was trying to legitimately poison me by other means…but that’s besides the point. it was the shift in laundry detergent and nothing else. your forties make you weak. 

as i was dealing with debilitating sore skin (the scent is DEWDROP DREAMS), he was suddenly getting shocked around the house. i’m not just mentioning a mild burst of energy that creates a small spark. i’m talking about a mini electrocution with a visible light, sound, and (loud) scream every time he touches metal, or any surface really. i don’t know, but do you enter your forties and your body is now…a conductor? also, when did male coughing (and sneezing) escalate to levels that they enter on the actual decibel scale? he’s suddenly so LOUD. like i’m sitting, reading a book, minding my own business…he sneezes, i jump scare of my seat and then threaten to end his life by suffocation if he does it again. however, my coworker (similar age) mentioned that she yelled at her husband the other night for "yawning wrong" (i died). in exchange for the loud orifice explosions, i now secretly pray for the shock therapy he’s enduring in order to laugh a little on the inside. 

despite our problems with the integumentary systems, life is pretty chill. our children are both teenagers, which people REALLY warned us about when they were babies. however, the “just waits” haven’t really shown themselves yet. they still like us and want to hang out. they are still respectful, kind, and funny humans so far. sometimes being decent humans, though, cannot outrun the hormones. i’m talking the ones of the female reproductive kind…as in their CYCLE. my first born went into a serious crying jag the other day because chic fila didn’t “give her enough fries.” i calmly yelped, “i’m not sure what is going on with you right now but you better figure it out.” she retreated to her room, which i then later (slowly) walked in and said, “perchance, are you getting your period soon?” which she then started laugh slash crying hysterically while nodding her head. fries aside, we both ended up laughing hysterically at this point.

truthfully so, i actually love this phase of parenthood, minus being in what i call my “uber era.” for people that don’t have driver’s licenses, they sure do want and need to go a lot of places. trace adkins is bellowing “you’re gonna miss this” on the radio as i spend almost every night running them around. alas, i know soon they will be driving and that will lead to a whole new level of anxiety. furthermore, the first born (sophomore) is going on field trips to visit local universities and also getting invites to college fairs. as i’m crumbling about that, my second born recently informed me that she doesn’t think she wants to go to college, because she would rather “sit on the couch and drink wine” with me (end quote). i had to explain that a stable job has allowed me the privilege to sit on the couch in the evenings with wine, so she better figure something out in the future. she chuckled and sauntered out of the room with her head of curly hair, unbothered (in true second born fashion). 

in closing, as i enter into my middleish forties this year, i will be ever aware that weird things are going to continue to happen with my body...and also my husband’s. it seems like sensitive skin and pseudo shock therapy are just the beginning (joy). if you are around or nearing this age, consider this a forewarning (i had none). furthermore, having teenage children isn’t for the faint of heart, unless you hold onto your sense of humor. when in doubt…always pick up an extra order of fries, slap the uber sign on your windshield for good measure, and as you sip your wine at night realize that fact that you stopped saving for harvard years ago for the second born is actually a major win. cheers, friends. may the odds ever be in your favor.

independent

so i did something on friday that i have never done in my 41 years...i bought my own car, by myself. now maybe you other women of the world have been walking around all willy nilly buying cars without a male counterpart in tow, but i am not one of those women. when i was younger, i had my dad to help. then when we moved to maryland, i enlisted my uncle. the last 3 times i bought a car, my husband was with me. if i didn't have him, i would've asked a male friend. despite this, i'm definitely consider myself an independent person...i just never bought a car independently. so let me set the scene for this tale. the car i wanted to buy was an hour away in fairfax, virginia. orginally, the male counterpart that lives with me was going to make the trek with me on saturday morning. however, i got a wild hair up my ass on friday and decided to leave right after work and just get it done. my friday OOTD was jeans rolled up (i'm short), a sweet pair of nikes, and an oversized red sweatshirt that had a rainbow, heart, and the word TEACH on it. 

after an hour ride in the rain after work, i arrived at (what i thought was) the dealership. when i pulled in, admittedly, the place looked a little sketchy and not at all what i had seen on the website. i had reached out via email about the car i wanted to test drive and a man named jeffrey wrote me back immediately and said to come on by. i sauntered in wearing my rainbow shirt and a smile, scared and anxious out of my wits at what i was about to do. as i lowered my umbrella, 3 middle eastern men rose out of their chairs, 2 black men stared at me, and one old white man who probably sold no less than 4,234 cars in his day started walking toward me. the place smelled of bad cologne and even worse decisions. upon approaching me, the older white man was very wrinkly, had a pack of smokes in the front pocket of his shirt, and shook my hand vigorously while asking, 'i'm ed! so what brings you in today?!' 

the other five men continued to stare as i said (as independently as i could muster), 'i got an email from jeffrey stating i could come in and test drive a car i was interested in?' he then looked at the others, as if one of them was going to play the ROLE of jeffrey, because clearly no one named jeffrey was there. after an awkward silence from everyone involved, ed turned to me and said, 'i'm sorry honey, but i think you got the wrong dealership.' (honey!) i showed him the email, including the address, and he said, 'oh! the good news is you are close!' ed proceeded to give me directions. i thanked him, put up my umbrella and sashayed back out into the rain, pretending that it didn't take all my effort not to shit my own pants to even walk in that place. as the aroma of cologne cleared my nostrils, i hopped back in my jeep and drove to the correct location. truth be told, at this point, i turned around to drive my independent self back home. 

i plowed on, arrived at the actual dealership (which was only about 5 minutes up the road from this one), and walked in. this time, two black dudes stared at me and one younger white dude waved. i stood there in my nikes and said, 'hi! i was in contact with jeffery about test driving a car?' to that, the one black dude leaped out of his seat and said, 'heeeeyyy! i'm jeffrey! how you doing?! i have the car right out front for you. let's go check it out!' (whew.) as we got in for the test drive, he said, 'do you want to do a city drive, highway, or more like backroads and stuff. my head whipped around and i said, 'jeffrey do i look like someone who wants to drive in a city!?' he bust out laughing and said, 'backroads it is.' we literally did like a loop around a nearby neighborhood and i said, 'okay, we can go back.' he chuckled and stated that he thinks this set the record for shortest test drive. i knew the price on the vehicle was fair, so i wasn't going to haggle (can you imagine that conversation?) with him, but i did want to get a certain amount for my jeep.

when he showed me the print out with the NUMBERS, the trade-in value was lower than i wanted so i said, 'listen, jeff, i need at least another thousand for my jeep. other than that, everything else looks good and i'll sign if you can do that.' (i think i dry heaved at one point into my sleeve, but i said it like i was on fire.) he walked over to his manager and i walked outside to call my husband and make it look like i was discussing things with him. i wasn't, i was discussing the 394 text messages from my children asking me questions about plans, because my husband told them to 'ask their mother.' anyways, jeff came back to the table and told me all was good and to sign 13 documents to seal the deal. i then met with a 'finance advisor' who turned out to be a young lad of age 23. i only know his age because he asked for my birthDATE and when i said 1982, he stated, 'oh! when did you graduate from high school?' i said, '2000.' he then said casually, 'cool, that was the year I WAS BORN.' (cripes) all in all, the whole experience was semi-hilarious and also empowering. as i drove home in my new vehicle wearing my rainbow shirt and nikes, i mentally crossed off 'buy own vehicle independently' on the old bucket list. next time? i'm taking my dad. 

imagination

so mondays are usually rough for a lot of people...including the little people i teach. however, when a little girl came in this morning with tears in her eyes i knew something was definitely more wrong than just a case of the mondays. she made eye contact and scream slash yelled, 'I CAUGHT HER!' i grabbed my chest and yelped back, 'caught whom!?' as one tear rolled down her cheek, she said, 'I CAUGHT MY MOMMY!' now i didn't know exactly what kind of nonsense i was getting myself into on this fine monday morning, but an episode of maury povich played out in my head and i took a huge gulp of coffee before responding. i pulled her aside and then said gently, 'you caught your mommy doing what?'...and then held my breath. she yelped, 'TAKING MY TOOTH FROM UNDER MY PILLOW!' about ten other 7 year old heads whipped around in our direction at this revelation and i wanted to yell, 'CODE RED, CODE RED! DAY RUINER AHEAD!' i then made a hand motion slash facial expression for the other kids to 'mind their business' (they smiled and got back to work.) i said calmly to her, 'so let me get this straight...you lost a tooth last night and put it under your pillow, and then you caught mommy trying to take it?' she was also visibly exhausted, so i could only deduce she spent the entire night like a 7 year old SPY ready to take on the tooth fairy. (probably had binoculars, camouflage, and stuff, too.) 

the tears starting a flowin' when she responded, but stated that yes, she saw mommy taking the tooth. she also went on to tell me that she saw a dollar on the dresser in her mom's room and then when said mother got out of the shower the dollar disappeared. said mother told this unnamed 7 year old to then check under her pillow again and LOW AND BEHOLD there was a dollar there, but she knows it was the dollar from the dresser and she just DOESN'T KNOW WHY HER MOMMY WOULD STEAL HER TOOTH AND PUT A DOLLAR UNDER THERE INSTEAD OF THE TOOTH FAIRY. (oh boy.) so in my mind as she is spouting off the very traumatic (in her mind) events of the morning, i had to do some type of damage control here. this little girl not only still believed in the tooth fairy after 'catching' her mother taking the tooth, she thought her mother was a THIEF and couldn't understand why. (whew!) my wheels were spinning as i took another gulp of coffee and said, 'so sometimes the tooth fairy gets really busy and then mommies have to step in and help her out. your mommy probably didn't want to tell you that she talked to the tooth fairy somehow because she thought you wouldn't believe her. my guess is the tooth fairy reached out through text or something and asked her her help.' (text?) she stopped crying, nodded, and smiled. 

meanwhile, an hour later i get an email from said mother frantically asking me if this unnamed 7 year old is 'okay' because she was SO MAD and UPSET this morning cause she caught her taking her tooth! i let her know that i got an EARFUL, but that i had a solution. i replied, 'send me your phone number and i will text you a message...rename me in your phone as the tooth fairy and show her the text when she gets home!' (she was SO appreciative.) so there i am during my lunch break drafting a message from the tooth fairy to this mother. i was chuckling to myself, as i have 2 degrees and 17 years experience in education...but could anything really have taught me what to 'do' in this situation? (nope.) the truth is, kids want to believe. believing allows their imaginations to soar beyond anything they could ever, well, imagine. a tiny fairy with wings that flies in, takes your tooth and leaves money in return? MAGIC. they probably go on to wonder where this fairy lives, what her house looks like, how many children she gets to visit each night, how she gets into each bedroom, what she actually looks like...and the list goes on. imagination is everything for kids. i know this because i am lucky enough to spend my days with children exploding with creativity, ingenuity, and wild imaginations...everyday. in turn, today as a teacher i transformed into a texting tooth fairy...and i wouldn't trade it for anything. monday morning in first grade for the win. 

backup

so let me start this by saying that most week nights are spent running around to soccer practices, making dinner, and all the other chores that adulting causes you to accumulate. last night we added some extra shit into the mix...literally. i will backtrack by saying every, like, three years or so, our pipes settle about 70 feet out from the house, causing a BACKUP. since we converted our garage into a half bath the backup heads to the lowest point of the house...the downstairs shower, and bathroom. as i sauntered in from a stroll with our dog jack after school, my first born was sprawled out on the couch with a plate of doritos (in her sports bra no less) and said the following, 'the bathroom is making weird sounds.' (cool.) i secretly said a silent prayer, because i knew said backup was imminent due to this. i heard the shower running upstairs and told her to immediately tell her father to turn it OFF. i also simultaneously opened up the pocket door of the downstairs bathroom and alas, there was feces seeping out of the shower drain into the shower, the toilet was full, and there were (in fact) weird sounds. (sick, i know.) i screamed like a teenager at a justin bieber concert. 

my husband came flying down the steps, shirtless and mid-shave, looking VERY disheveled. i said, 'we are backed up again...we need to call someone.' he said (and i quote, for later), 'i am not calling roto rooter, last time they charged me $888 dollars. i'm going to home depot, getting a snake, and doing it myself.' i stared at him. one thing you need to know about him is that he is a lot of things, but HANDY is not one of them. amazing husband, super father, educated, a great teacher...but not so handy. so when he said the aforementioned, bells and whistles started serenading me loudly in my head. (PLEASE call for backup for the backup.) instead i said, 'are you sure?' he said, 'yes, i'm not spending that again.' another thing you need to know is that the man is not CHEAP, but likes to save money. if you have been with me since his extreme couponing days (that really happened)...then you know. he flew out the door like his hair was on fire and the girls and i had a little chuckle, despite the fact that we couldn't use any of the toilets and all showers were off limits. i proceeded to grill some burgers for dinner and we sat down to eat while we waited for him.

as i put a bite up to my mouth, he flew back in the door. he was chalk white, and i knew something was very wrong by the looks of him. before i could say a word, he stated (in all caps), 'YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED!!!' i didn't know if this was like the time he flew over the handlebars of his huffy or like the time he bought a sword at a renaissance fair and bounced our first mortgage check. so i calmly said, 'what.' (a statement, not a question). he went on, 'so i got the snake machine, put it in the back of my jeep, hit the gas out of the parking lot...AND IT SMASHED INTO THE REAR WINDOW OF MY JEEP AND SHATTERED IT TO PIECES.' (holy mary mother of...) the girls and i all made eyes at each other and immediately stood up to assess the damage in the driveway. sure enough, there was sizable HOLE, shattered glass, and a snake machine peeking out the now ruined back window. i yelped, 'it was on wheels right? why didn't you secure it?' he said, 'I DON'T KNOW.' he was shaking his head, but then opened the back door to remove the machine, as glass was showering him with a vengeance. i cleaned up dinner and he started working the snake into the drain. i then said, 'can i help with anything?'

he sighed and said, 'can you take the shop vac out front and clean the glass out of the jeep? (sure thing.) so here i am out front, elbows deep in smashed glass. he's out the backdoor elbows deep in human feces, and i could only think about what our neighbors were thinking. it was now pushing 7:30pm and this was all unfolding like the making of a very real comedy show (or horror film). after cleaning the glass, i went out back to help him with the snake, i was pushing some power button, he was pushing a pedal with his foot...and both of us were questioning every life choice we ever made. we couldn't even make contact for fear that we would either laugh...or cry. the snake from home depot had one speed...SNAIL. by 8pm, we thought we hit something and the drain receded so we thought we were in the clear, it took forever to get the snake back out, but when we did, we ran the water upstairs and GUESS WHAT HAPPENED. (one guess.) WE STARTED WITH THE SHIT SEEPAGE AGAIN. i had been pretty calm up until this point, but something snapped in my head and i went BEEEENANANAS. i went off about all the events of the evening, naming everything mentioned above and he then squeaked in reply, 'I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE SAYING CAUSE I JUST LIVED IT, I DON'T NEED A REMINDER!!!' i revoked, WE ARE TEACHERS NOT PLUMBERS, BUTCH!!!

at this, i went upstairs, cleaned my smelly parts with a washcloth like i was in prison...and climbed into bed. i opened a book and couldn't even concentrate on that. i went in to kiss the girls goodnight and my second born asked if she could POOP IN A BUCKET IN THE BACKYARD LIKE THE OLDEN DAYS. with that, i crawled in the my bed and pulled the covers over my head (better luck tomorrow). in the meantime, he was making an appointment to get his window fixed, calling an actually PLUMBER, taking off work, and making sub plans. anywho, flash forward to tonight. the snake is returned to home depot ($96), we have working toilets and showers ($435), the glass for his rear window is fixed ($556)...for the grand total of $1,087. i'm no mathematician, but that is $199 MORE than that original plan of roto rooter coming to fix it last night. also, we didn't use roto rooter at all, but a local guy that charged half that. so, it would've been $652 CHEAPER if not so handy man had NOT put his hand in the drain. LEST I MENTION, the extreme headache that ALL the other shenanigans caused. the moral of the story is: at the end of the day, shit happens...however, how one chooses to HANDLE that shit will make all the difference in the world. 

period

so let me preface this by saying that when my kids were babies and toddlers, i had a TON of material to write about. not to say our lives are boring at this point, but they are much more...quiet. at the ripe old age of nine and eleven, my children are pretty self sufficient. however, we are now entering into the land of hormones...and hilarious conversations. in january, my first born started her MONTHLY CYCLE as my mother likes to call it. explaining what was happening to her was actually a lot easier than i thought it would be. i gave her the cliff's notes version and kept the lines of communication open by telling her if she had any questions at all she could ask me. my best friend (we will call her fen) helped her to put an app on her phone to help track it. she came to me with a few questions, but nothing crazy. well let's fast forward to THE PRESENT and a few months have passed, we are currently on the same schedule. (look out, butch.) BUT, i digress, yesterday i decided to explain this phenomenon to my second born because she couldn't understand why her sister couldn't swim the last couple of days. THAT is where the hilarity comes in. 

my younger child was splashing around solo in the pool and i casually walked up to her and said, 'i know you have been upset that your sister can't swim, so i want to tell you why.' she looked slightly scared, as if i was going to say she was allergic to water or something and their summer was ruined. still, i went on...'well, she has her period, do you know what that is?' she looked puzzled and said, 'the thing at the end of a SENTENCE?!' (off to a stellar start here.) i laughed and said, 'not that type of period...but when you start to grow up and get older your body starts changing and once a month you bleed.' her eyes literally almost popped right out of her face, 'BLEED FROM WHERE?! where is she BLEEDING FROM?' (dear lord.) i said, 'her vagina.' thank god we were alone in the backyard because she then yelped, 'WHERE IS THE VAGINA?!' (prayers, please.) now listen, i have been pretty open and honest with my kids about their bodies and stuff, but my second born is seriously a different breed. you tell her something and she pretends to listen, but really she is thinking about rainbows and unicorns in that little head of hers. 

i pointed and said, 'DOWN THERE!' she then said (visibly blown mind-enter emoji), 'wait a minute...i know you have a hole to pee from and one to poop from, but you are telling me now that there is another hole down there?! YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THERE ARE THREE HOLES?!' i was sipping water and it literally exploded out of my mouth and partially out of my nose. in that moment i wished it was a white claw or something stronger because i couldn't fathom how telling one kid about this was easy as pie, and then this other one is A WHOLE DIFFERENT STORY. (a whole different book.) in the meantime, my first born came sauntering out in the lawn and her sister stared at her HORRIFIED, like she was a character in a scary film. then the dog trotted out behind her and she said, 'WAIT, DO DOGS GET THEIR PERIOD'S TOO?!" i then had an legitimate outer body experience and somehow went into detail about the uterus and some other technical terms like i was teaching a health class. (holy hell.) she kind of wandered around the next hour biting her nails, and i could actually see the wheels turning and interacting with the rainbows and unicorns i talked about earlier. (at this point, i did crack a white claw.) 

my husband then was puttering around the backyard putting up lights and stuff, pretending not to listen as she rattled on about how she, 'cannot believe this'...and asking other random stuff like if she will have to wear a DIAPER when this happens to her. but about a month ago, the dog got into a box of pads upstairs (he chews everything) and came running downstairs with one stuck to his HEAD. (that really happened.) i said, 'remember when jack had that thing stuck to his head a while ago? that was a pad, you have to wear those, not diapers'. at this point i slowly turned around as butch emerged from the shed....wearing NOISE CANCELING HEADPHONES. he gave me a thumbs up... and the three of us died laughing. he kept them on and wanted nothing to do with our conversation. (i don't blame him, it was a doozy.) so as we enter these years of unchartered waters, i really don't know what awaits us. i've heard teenage girls can be scary, so that might be fun wave to ride. although i've settled into motherhood over the last ten years, it continues to throw me curveballs. this curveball was in the form of a white claw worthy conversation in a chapter that i will never forget. period.

january

so it's a snowy morning in maryland and my second born is currently eating baby carrots with a side of fruit loops for breakfast. as i sit here and sip my coffee, i can't believe we are almost a year (a whole year) into this pandemic, people. since last march, we (as a whole) have questioned so many things about what is going on, but i have realized that much of it is out of our control. once you realize a lot of it is out of your control, you tend to relax a little...but it did make me realize that there are some things i am in control of...that i have (admittedly) let get a little OUT of control. starting with my health. as i near the 40 year old mark (what the hell?), i realize my body is changing in crazy ways. for example, i can't eat a cheeseburger and fries five days a week and abstain from growing a second set of ass cheeks overnight (who knew?) also, i can't wash it down with a half a box of wine or 6 pack of beer and feel like a normal human anymore. i will say this...7 years ago i made a commitment to my health, but about two years ago, i had a very (very) difficult school year. a school year with students and situations that i hadn't experienced in my entire career (it was super rough). that summer i used food and wine to feel better, but it backfired because it snowballed into feeling a lot worse for many months to come. 

right before march last year, i looked in the mirror (literally and figuratively) and realized i needed to make some changes...but then suddenly school closed, everything was shut down, i couldn't even see my family, and life as i knew it went on hold. we stayed home for 3 months and as we tried to wrap our brains around what was going on...we also ate and drank like we were on a well-stocked deserted island. then summer came and things continued to be weird, so same thing. then, the holidays (enough said)...now here we are. almost february! i decided to join the other million people that choose to make changes on january 1st. the whole30 (do the google if you don't know) seemed to be a good option for me because it entailed eating real food and cutting all the things i struggle with cutting...sugar, carbs, dairy, and god's sweet nectar (wine). for 30 days. the first couple days of january were ROUGH. along with not sleeping well (at ALL), i felt like total garbage. i almost gave up a handful of times, but took it one day at a time. my husband decided to cut out alcohol as well and followed along with MOST of the food choices. he would throw a carb (or five) in there every once in a while, however. 

the hardest part of the whole thing was meal planning and making sure everything was compliant. however...the good old inter web has about 23,948 recipes (give or take) which did make it slightly easier. after week 2 i was hooked because i was consistently sleeping, i started running or incorporating exercise into my routine again (hello endorphins)...and in general i didn't feel like a huge pile of crap. a lot of the anxiety i was having about ALL THE THINGS also was put at bay (this was a huge plus). i will say we didn't see anyone, like, the whole month...which wasn't too hard cause jack frost is nipping at our chins (and other extremities) and also, a pandemic. i'm writing this to say that if you are on the fence about making a change, DO IT. your body and mental health will be better for it. BUT, i will ALSO make this clear...i am not here to judge AT ALL. if food and alcohol are getting you through at this point, you do you boo! as february blows in with a blizzard, i will start reincorporating things like CHEESE (man i miss cheese) back into my routine. however, this past month definitely has created a good diving board for a healthier year. i'm feel 97% better than i did in december (both mentally and physically), i've restored a healthier relationship with both food and alcohol...and i also lost 10 pounds. if you are already on this journey...keep going! however, if you you need a kick in the pants...here it is. throwing fist pounds and good vibes your way, people.

fifteen

so i debated writing about this because it is a touchy (TOUCHY) subject, but IT IS WHAT IT IS...so here goes. my mind has been literally blown over the backlash toward teachers the past few months. (blown.) anyone that knows me, knows that i'm pretty outspoken about most things. however, this whole teacher bashing business has been CRAZY lately and made me quiet (until now). first of all...this is not what ANY of us signed up for. ANY HUMAN BEING right now...not just teachers. not any child right now either. this is a time of turmoil and NOT understanding what the hell is going on. this is a time of discontent. let me start by stating that i would give a LIMB to be back in the classroom teaching like normal right now (like a whole arm, or leg). most teachers would do the same. it makes me sad to think my incoming kindergarteners won't get the same experience as the ones i've taught before. we don't want to teach your children through a screen...we want to interact with them face to face and make meaningful and honest connections. my own children are DESPERATE to be back in the classroom with their teachers (they talk about it daily). other teachers in other states don't have to endure a screen...but have masks and 6 feet restrictions, which i don't really understand how that is going to work either (throwing a hunger game salute right at you). 

BUT...here is the bottom line. WE (teachers) did not make these final decisions. we didn't make the current curriculum. we (as a whole) didn't decide how and when children should return to school. honestly, we found out when the rest of the public found out. we always find out major decisions when all of you find out! we had very little say in major decisions. we are stressing, we are scared, we are anxious...like all of you! DESPITE THIS...many of us sucked it up, rolled with the punches, and accepted the new normal. even though it killed a part of us to know our whole world would be turned upside down and we would have to change everything we have known about teaching to date...we accepted it! period. after we accepted it with grace (and mild gripes) we began to build our virtual, google, and bitmoji classrooms (along with the help of coffee and tears). coming from an OLD SCHOOL pencil and paper teacher (me)...we leaned on EACH OTHER for support as many other people berated us. about a week ago i was in a really bad head space about going back to school virtually (like, bad). then i spoke with a former retired principal for 2 hours, she gave me so much insight. shortly after, i had to go to my school to pick up some supplies and ran into my teammates, one of which who got excited to show me a picture of her virtual classroom space at home. they inspired me to pick myself up and DO BETTER. this is what happened over the next few days. this space.

yesterday we had a virtual pre-launch day with our parents and kids for this next school year. i was nervous, i was scared, and i didn't know how parents were going to accept this new fate. do you know what happened? they listened, they trusted, they cared, and understood. they were KIND when my microphone didn't work and CALM when the video i was going to play didn't have sound. moreover, i saw my incoming kindergartners smiling on the other end of the video call. when i unmuted them, their giggles and "hiiiii teacher!!!" gave me peace. one yelled, 'I CANNOT WAIT TO BE A PART OF THIS CLASS!' at one point. so, no, this is not what i signed up for year 15 of teaching...but i will try my hardest to keep these kids engaged and keep the parents calm and kind. i have been lucky enough to have been around amazing educators my ENTIRE career and the thing the general public doesn't see is the behind the scenes of how committed they are to children and learning. during this crazy time, it is no different. actually...it's in OVERDRIVE. i had a parent call me today with a question and after the conversation she praised me and praised teachers and said "thank you" sincerely. DO BETTER, people. teachers everywhere are bending over backward to take care of your kids the best they can. at the end of the day...be kind. also, to those of you that are negative nellies, i'll give you some advice i give my kindergarteners...if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. throwing hunger games salutes to parents and teachers everywhere this school year...you got this. 

solicitor

so let me start by saying where we live, this time of year it is hot. before you get all righteous on me and state 'IT'S SUMMER', i'm not talking summertime hot...i'm talking satan came up from the depths of hell and waved his spirit fingers full of fire all over the sky and soil. it's so hot that we have what i call a reverse hibernation thing happening here at our house...no one wants to be outside. now i will state that around 9am each day i try to get out for a little jog around the neighborhood. during these jaunts, i literally see jesus no less then 3 times, dry heave a coupla times, almost puke or pass out, and wouldn't be surprised if someone found me on the side of the road dying of dehydration (it's that hot). so this is me describing a normal morning the past 2 weeks, so imagine how blazing it is by the afternoon. i don't know what the good lord is baking up there...but it's done. i usually try to get my kids outside in the afternoon for some fresh air, but their whining trumps the weather. i've gotten creative on the inside with puzzles, paint by number, painting every room in the entire house (that happened), but yesterday we decided to do something simple. so in the heat of the afternoon, we cozied up on the couch and turned on a home improvement show on the old HGTV. because they have been helping me with things around the house, they are really into it. (which is cool, cause so am i.) so as we were watching in air conditioning, we heard a knock at the door. 

now although we don't get any pop-in visitors during this pandemic, we do get a TON of packages. i usually peek out to see who or what it is, but the dog was barking like hell...so i just went over and opened the door. instinctively, i looked down for a package, but there was no package. i then looked up and what should meet my eye, six feet away, but a masked man dressed in a black hat, a black shirt, black shorts, and black socks and shoes. he was like walking solar panel wearing reeboks and carrying a clipboard. he said, 'hello!' i said, 'hi.' (in my mind, i was like shiiiiiiiit a solicitor.) we get these guys in our neighborhood all the time...they could be selling anything from water softeners to windmills. (sidebar: i usually don't answer the door, cause i have issues saying no face to face to them.) so anyway, i was trapped. i stepped out onto the porch (cause the cold air was escaping the house) and looked over at the bay window where our dog was going ape shit. she is usually mild mannered and old, but when strangers or the UPS guy come and we are home...she goes nuts. she looked like cujo and was acting like she wanted to break through the glass and attack this man's genitals. he looked at me and said with a straight face, 'your dog is SO adorable!' i almost bust out laughing but stated, 'she doesn't like solicitors.' (either do i, but i left that out.)

he then introduced himself as 'jim' and said, 'what's your name!?' i told him. he then goes, 'oh my wordddd! that's my mom's name!' (yeah right.) then, 'what do you do for a living?' i said, 'i'm a teacher.' he stated, 'my mom was a teacher tooooo! she taught high school math.' (i teach kindergarten and dislike math...we don't have that much in common, jim.) next? 'what does your husband do?' i replied, 'he teaches middle school and is teaching a summer class upstairs right now.' he exclaimed, 'i taught middle school for 3 years! clearly i don't anymore!' (clearly.) he yelped, 'how long have you been with your husband?!' i said, '20 years.' he made some type of distorted face, pointed to his wedding ring and said, 'i've been with my wife for 2 years...what's the secret?!' i didn't miss a beat and said, 'a lot of alcohol, jim. lots and lots of alcohol.' well this sent jim into hysterics. he doubled over, was wheezing (probably partly from the heat), and thought this statement was a real KNEE SLAPPER (he was actually slapping his knee). i happened to glance back over at the bay window, and although the dog calmed down...both kids were peeking out from behind the curtain. at his point in the summer...they both look like they have escaped from a hippie commune in the 70s. they were wearing long homemade tye dye shirts, their long hair was a mess all over their heads...and they looked equal parts scared and confused about who i was talking to on the porch. jim saw me looking, glanced over...just as they let the curtains flutter back into place like horror movie. he yelped, 'awww they are SO cute!' even though they they legitimately looked like they were being held captive in their own home. 

so to be clear, he thinks our cujo-crazed dog is adorable, my feral and confused-looking children are cute, he knows my entire life story basically...AND I STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS MAN IS TRYING TO SELL ME. he must've seen the annoyance cross my face, cause besides the aforementioned fact, i was standing there sweating in the heat like a pregnant nun during confession. i knew i wasn't in any physical danger, this dude looked like if he got in a fight with my mailbox, the mailbox might win. he then laugh slash yelled, 'so i'm just here to give you a FREE ESTIMATE so that i can hook you up with new WINDOWS!' (oh, hell.) i would've given anything to stop the pain at this point, so i said, 'sure! sign me up!' he put me on speakerphone with his supervisor (named ron), who got all my information...as he is standing there with sweat squirting out of every pore. long story long, the 'estimator expert' (that's what he called him) is supposed to show up today at 5pm. later, my husband came out of the guest room from teaching his class and said, 'why was the dog barking like hell?' i told him the story about solicitor jim. he put both hands on his head and said, 'how do you get in these situations?!' (i don't know.) he went on, 'we are NOT getting new windows!' (i know.) so sometime today i have to call and cancel this appointment, which i will ultimately feel bad about. so basically i'm telling you if a walking solar panel wearing reeboks shows up at your door with a clipboard in the middle of a pandemic and heatwave...do NOT answer it. you might get more than you bargained for. stay inside and watch HGTV...it's much safer. lesson learned. 

safe

so i would say about 3 weeks before vacation i decided to order some new undergarments. as i age, functionality definitely trumps fancy in that department. i went on one of my groups of middle aged women who post the best deals on amazon (what up, kristin!) and searched through the posts. low and behold i found some that looked comfortable. i clicked order and they arrived a day later. my husband opened the package and usually doesn't comment on much...but stated, "who are THESE for?" i stated, "me!" he gave me a look somewhere between confusion and despair, but was very careful with his words. he then mumbled, "those look very SAFE." (i lost it laughing.) a few weeks later i liked my comfortable under britches so much that i ordered more of the same variety. we were traveling at the time and i said out loud, "i REALLY hope no one steals my underwear package off the porch!" without missing a beat he said, "NO ONE...literally NO ONE is going to steal those. also, they will bring them right the hell back if they do!" (again, more laughing.)

let me also say that one of the reasons (aside from functionality) i needed new undergarments is because i had to size UP. upon stepping on the scale yesterday after vacation, i realized i had undoubtedly gained the covid-15. add that to the 15 pounds i gained during the gluttony (and stress/switching jobs) of last summer, and that's an extra 30 pounds since last june. i've always been pretty candid about my weight, but the goal always is to feel healthy and happy with how my clothes are fitting. the leggings and sweatshirts i was wearing everyday during quarantine have now segued into flowy summer dresses. not getting dressed in teacher clothes since march has not been good for the waistline. i know many of you can relate, and that's why i'm sharing. however, i'm no stranger to weight gain and i think my greatest performance was my first year of college when i surpassed the freshman 15...and gained the freshman FORTY. (this is not my first rodeo.) i happen to enjoy beer and burgers (a lot), but my metabolism is that of a speed bump, so i have to watch everything i put into my body. i still run and am active everyday, but when your caloric intake is that of a sumo wrestler...watch out.

that all being said, i need to get myself together and i'm committed. my current goals are to drink more water, eat cleanly, limit alcohol, and be more mindful about my overall health. this pandemic has taken a hit on many people's mental and physical health and i know i'm not alone. you know what else i'm not alone in my lady friends? can any women out there tell me how we used to wear brassieres everyday!? (holy hell.) i've been walking around my own house like something out of a national geographic magazine, but when we were going on vacation with my husband's family, i packed a few normal knocker lockers. the first day i tried one on and was like...'nope!' so i went down to the old walmart and picked up a much more comfortable one of the hanes variety with no wire. apparently my husband didn't see it the whole vacation, because when we arrived home i was getting undressed for a shower and he whipped around and gasped. (loudly.) i said, 'WHAT?!' he then yelled, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! YOU LOOK LIKE MRS. DOUBTFIRE!!!" (i couldn't breathe.) with the uncertainty of next school year looming...i'm choosing to focus on comfortable undergarments, fitness goals, and humor. mrs. doubtfire...over and out.

march

so does anyone else feel like their kids' secretaries all of a sudden? i get texts from other moms like, "can clarabelle facetime with the girls at 3pm?" in my head i'm thinking, "hold on i gotta check their schedules to see if they have something else going on at that time." what? so weird. they don't have their own devices, so they use ours...hence, there has to be a middle man. the middle men are the moms. not to mention the other school related assignments and google meets. i whip out a pen and pad each morning and sit with the two of them at the kitchen table like a registrar asking them what they need to complete and by when. my first born today opened the laptop and said, "well, tomorrow i have a google meet with my class at 10:30am and my teacher wrote a note that said, DON'T FORGET TO WEAR YOUR MUSTACHE!" i just stared at her, willing her to go on, and she yelled, "WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!" (she is me.) the coffee that was in mouth nearly sprayed out of my face orifice and all over my first born. soon after that my second born said, "i have a google meet tomorrow at 9:30 with my class and it says it's crazy hair day!" i said, "well your hair is always crazy, so just roll out of bed and get on!" she laughed her little head off.

as a teacher, i understand why these other teachers are throwing some flair (like crazy hair) in with these virtual meetings and chats. they are trying to accomplish one thing...and that is to keep up the kids morale. if a whole class of kids wearing mustaches makes everyone smile a bit more, well then so be it. yes, keeping up with it as a parent is not easy...but these teachers have your kid's best interest at heart. yesterday, morale was low at this house. trying to keep everyone educated, happy, and fed is getting harder each day. if you are struggling on day 239 of quarantine, you are not alone. i try to go one day at time to keep myself sane, but yesterday i came downstairs and my husband was running like hell on the treadmill, blasting 'the doors' from his record player. my first born was sitting at the table eating a snack and singing along to come on baby light my fire. meanwhile, my second born was wandering around in christmas pajamas and asked me, "what day is it again?" i literally went out in the backyard and wondered if it was too early for wine. it was like 10am. i think everyone in the world is at the same place right now...wondering when and if this will all be over. there is no timeline, so people are really getting rowdy. including me.

last night at approximately 10:23pm, my husband and i heard a huge bang come from up stairs...like, really loud. i yelped, "WHAT WAS THAAAAT?" we both ran upstairs like banshees and my second born was sitting on her bed, crying and holding her head. she wailed, "i hit my HEAAADDD!!!" we both said, "ON WHAT?!" the story she came up with was not believable and my first born was looking awfully suspicious. i know it was 100% because they were horsing around. after consoling her and coming downstairs, i had a julia roberts acting moment. you know the one where the one tear gently rolls down her cheek? that was me. on the couch. at my house. i was thinking how i miss a way earlier loud bang free bedtime with my kids. i miss a routine, i miss teaching, i miss my coworkers, i miss my family, my friends, my new niece...i miss all that stuff. so as the one tear rolled down, i poured more wine and thought about what my grandmother would do during this time. she always gave the best advice. one time in college i was going through some stuff and she looked me in the eyes and simply said, "you just need to put on your boots and march!" in other words...just keep going. so tomorrow morning i will continue honing my secretarial skills, as one kid is in a wig and other is wearing a mustache with their classmates...i will choose laugh along with them. march on, people.

sword

so last night my husband nonchalantly leaned over while we were on the couch and said the following, "i just want you to know that i ordered a stone sharpener for my sword." nothing (literally nothing) surprises me anymore, but as i peered at him over my wine glass i had only one question. so i asked, "what, exactly, are you going to use the sharpened sword for?" without missing a beat he stated, "i'm going to go out in the backyard and throw fruits and vegetables and shit up in the air and cut them in half." (what?) at this point i couldn't hold back and bust out laughing. by no means did i want to encourage this behavior...but what in the actual hell. i squawked, "are you trying to tell me quarantine has turned you into BRUCE LEE?! what are you even talking about?!" he nearly spat out his beer and started laughing as well. you are probably wondering why he would even have a 'sword' in the first place, so i'm gonna tell you the backstory.

i actually totally forgot about the sword...until last friday night on a virtual happy hour with high school friends. after three hours of nonsense with these people (and many beverages), the sword made a reappearance, following many years of isolation on the (very high) top shelf of our downstairs bathroom closet. he was waving it dangerously close to my limbs, nose, face, and ears...and no one needs to go to the emergency room right now. (which is what i tell my children on the regular when they are running around out house like crazed weasels.) i told him to put it down, but he stated, which is the same thing he stated years ago (BC-before children) when he brought it home. he said (and i quote), "DON'T WORRY...it's not BATTLE READY." (battle ready.) listen buddy, you just had about 12 beers and battle ready or not, a sword...is a sword. i mean, sure, it may not take off a limb...but it's gonna leave a flesh wound of some sort. put down the damn sword.

the actual sword.

rewind twelve years ago, in our first year of marriage, we bought our first house (this comes into play later)...he also bought this sword. it all came about when a group his friends went to a renaissance festival together in pennsylvania, and he came back to maryland with this weapon. let me state whenever this group of guys is together they act as if they are legitimate animals. animals let out of the zoo and into the world (renaissance fair) with no rules. anyway, he saunters in the door on sunday, bewildered after a wild weekend...with this sword swinging around. at that time, i would get more wound about this stuff. (now i don't even bat an eyeball.) i said, "WHAT IS THAT." (not a question, a statement.) i probably added some expletives in there as well, for good measure. he stated (same as last friday), "DON'T WORRY...it's not BATTLE READY." (cause that makes it better.) back then we weren't in the financial situation we are now, but for some reason i didn't ask in that moment how much it was.

lo and behold, a couple days later i get a call from the bank. they let me know that our (VERY FIRST) mortgage payment...had bounced. i was talking to the teller and said, "i'm not sure what happened, but can you tell me what recent purchases were made that might have caused it?" she clicked away at her keyboard, started chuckling on the other end...and then said, "well, it looks like there was a charge for $120...for a SWORD." it legitimately came up "sword" on the bank statement. i said, "oh...yes. i'm aware of the sword...i'm now going to go use it ON MY HUSBAND." she started belly laughing on the other end, said we wouldn't get an extra charge, and we hung up. i went into the room (with wild eyes) where bruce lee was sitting and said, "YOU BOUNCED OUR MORTGAGE PAYMENT WITH THAT SWORD!" he shrugged his shoulders and said something along the lines of, "you win some, you lose some." little did i know 12 years later that he would be ordering sharpening stones for the sword so he could pulverize produce in the backyard during a pandemic. well, that, my friends...is one for the books.

superpower

so last night my first born was face timing with five of her friends...and i will mention this is the first time she has been on a group chat on the phone ever. it's something i didn't envision for another few years with her, but it is very weird all the same. i mean, everything is weird right now...so just add this little anomaly into the mix. let me set the stage...i was in the bedroom with a laptop doing some work and my husband was in the shower. i hear the shower stop and door swing open. then, i loudly hear my first born say from the hallway, "ALRIGHT GIRLS...LET ME GIVE YOU A TOUR OF THE HOUSE!!!" we live in close quarters, so she was only a few steps away from every room upstairs. before i could say one word, my husband came flying out of the bathroom like a bat out of hell...wearing only boxers. (thank god his man parts were away.) he must've heard her too, because he had a wild look on his face like he needed to hide. he looked like a legitimate cartoon character. still wet, hair askew on top of his head. to say i bust out laughing is an understatement. i was convulsing on the bed and literally couldn't breathe. my laptop nearly fell on the floor.

this all happened in a matter of seconds, but he grabbed the nearest shirt and then tried to "cover" himself with it. i somehow squeaked out, "DO NOT COME IN OUR BEDROOM WITH THAT PHONE!"...and then went back to laughing. he was in a full blown sweat and looking around like, 'what the hell just happened?!" why he didn't just yell what i yelled is beyond me, but his actions instead were far funnier. that all being said, the beginning of this week was HARD. it's only wednesday and i feel like i've been through a pandemic (oh...wait.).  we all had been annoyed with each other at different times the past couple of days and man, i needed that laugh. home schooling and schooling from home has been an interesting and draining dynamic.  (it's no joke.) trying to find a balance in our house the past couple of days has been kinda daunting, but we are making do. i'm sure by now many of you have come up with your own little 'routine' of how your day is supposed to go...at least i have. (it keeps me from not going nuts.) part of that is a couple hours in the afternoon i clean or organize something in our house. my husband does not like this and i will explain to you why.

i grew up with a very handy father...he literally built my childhood home from the ground up, even though he is not a builder by trade (but i guess he actually is?). anyway, as i go about cleaning and organizing each day i find certain projects that i pass on to my (not so handy) husband. last week i remodeled the bathroom and the metal piece on the floor near the supply tube was rusted, so i texted my dad and asked if it was an easy fix. he said yes. so, i sent my husband out to get the replacement parts and after many curse words and a threat of divorce...it was fixed. later that night after several beverages, he let the dog out the backdoor and it was "raining" from the second floor of our house. he went ballistic. fortunately, the nuts just weren't tightened enough, so after some elbow grease, more foul language and another talk about the legal dissolution of our marriage...it was not raining from the second floor anymore. my husband is a mild mannered man...it takes a lot to ruffle his feathers. however, quarantine has set him off a little bit. the plumbing gone wrong is just the tip of the iceberg. he recently ordered a chainsaw (yes.) off of amazon because our 'neighbor's bush is rubbing up against our house and he can't take it anymore' (an actual big bush...foliage if you will.)

anyway, the chainsaw arrived yesterday and he said as soon as he has a free moment he is going to 'hang out the second story window' and 'saw it down.' so in short, stay tuned for that moment...cause it's sure to be a doozy. rest assured, we have all had our crazy moments in this house. for example, my first born was in a google meet chat with her classmates for her teacher to answer questions they had about their work...when she simply closed the laptop after 16 minutes and said, 'i'm done with all of them.' (i lost it laughing.) my second born is already a little kooky, but has now decided to not wear pants (ever), and saunters around the house wearing oversized glasses half the time (she's still into scaring us, too).  i went out for a walk yesterday and after somehow getting lost (even though i jog in our neighborhood all the time) had to pull up the GPS on my phone to figure out how to get home after an hour and a half. as we settle into (using that loosely) this new way of life, everything is weird and sometimes hard. however, if we stop at least once to see the humor everyday...like a half naked grown man trying to 'hide' from a gaggle of 9 year old girls on face time, well it just makes it a little bit better. hang in there, people, and when in doubt...use your sense of humor as a superpower.

corona

so yesterday i came out of the bedroom and my second born was walking around buck naked...wearing reindeer antlers. she was sashaying around like santa's helper, paying no mind to social norms like it was the best day of her life. i didn't even bat an eye as i walked downstairs. my first born was eating her 62nd snack of the day and stared at me as i walked to the fridge to get my 22nd snack. weird shit is happening during this whole quarantine, in my house and in the world. we got word yesterday that we have at least 4 more weeks off of school...and i woke up this morning and had to try to remember what day it was (seriously). since my husband and i are teachers and my kids are both students...we are all home together at all times. now i will say this, thank jesus that i actually like these people, but we are currently playing a fun game called "who can make the most dishes, not put them in the dishwasher, nor empty said dishwasher." i am currently losing because i have done the dishes about 283 times in the past 2 weeks (give or take).

i will say, and was brought to my attention by my brother, that i'm pretty cut out for this whole lockdown business. maybe you are like me...i love doing puzzles and reading books. i love being outside in the backyard or taking long jogs around the neighborhood. i don't mind taking a break from the rat race of life and just breathing. i like an extra glass of wine, staying up late, sleeping in, and having a homemade breakfast with coffee in a mug every morning. i also have started about 29 projects in my house and i am currently hoping to be featured in Better Homes & Gardens: COVID Edition. during this scary and uncertain time, i'm choosing to try to stay positive. i miss teaching, my classroom, and my school kids terribly...but i am enjoying time with my own kids. am i homeschooling? hell no. my kids work on some basic academic skills for about an hour in the morning...and then we work on life skills. so far they've learned how to pitch a tent, prep and paint a room, climb a tree, and make my grandmother's chicken noodle soup. they have mastered many things...everything except loading and unloading the dishwasher.

to parents who are trying to juggle working from home and homeschooling your kids...relax (really). because of this virus, education is going to shift in many ways. actually, i think lots of things are going to shift in many ways. when we return back to school (whenever that is), teachers will figure it out. not to toot my own horn, but teachers are flexible, resilient...and always have your children's best interest at heart (toot, toot!). this year alone i had one child come in reading on a second grade level...and another that only knew 10 letters. this is education now (even pre-corona). these gaps will be filled and life will go on. (it always does.) for now, the best thing you can do is simply have your children read books or read to them. have them complete puzzles, build things out of cardboard boxes, paint, play board games...and even simply be bored. creativity lives in the boredom. in fact my second born said today, 'i'm bored.' and i replied with, 'good.' focus on whatever your district, county, or teachers recommend you complete...but don't dwell on it and make yourself nuts. it's not worth it.

education aside...in a time like this, it is easy to fall prey to anxiety. not having a normal daily routine can be difficult for a lot of people...especially kids. however, one of the shifts i've already seen...is people being more kind and more gentle with each other. checking in on family and friends via facetime or otherwise. reaching out and making an attempt to see that friends and family are 'okay.' i've enjoyed reconnecting with lots of people just this past week and if anything, relationships will grow stronger with people you care about because of this whole mess. finally, if you are feeling frustrated or bad about your life...i suggest you hop on over to netflix and watch tiger king. what in the weird white people business that is. every episode is more messed up than the last and it leaves you feeling like you actually have your life together (even if you don't). in closing, i hope every one of you that reads this is healthy and well. if you are still working, working from home, or working to keep your sanity...you are not alone. at the end of the day, if you need to saunter around naked wearing reindeer antlers and grab yourself another snack to feel better...it's okay. this too shall pass.

kick

so i do believe when simple board games lead to physical blows...it is time for your children to go the hell back to school. yesterday morning i went for a jog around the ole neighborhood and came home to two kids crying. my husband was upstairs seemingly oblivious to what was going on. however, in his defense, he is in tune by now to the different types of crying. such as (but not limited to)...true pain, hurt feelings, whining, attention seeking (he was clearly ignoring them, for good reason). so, i walked in the room and said, "what is going on." (it was more of a statement then a question, my urgency for these types of things has long set sail with the earning of my masters in motherhood.) my second born looked up through her tears and said, "well we were playing the game 'sorry!' and she (pointing at first born)...KICKED ME IN THE HIP!" first of all, who kicks other people in the hips? so i said out loud, "WHO KICKS OTHER PEOPLE IN THE HIP?! i mean...a swift kick to the shin, a punch to the nose, a poke in the eye even...but the hip?

my first born looked up through her (fake) tears and said, "i ACCIDENTALLY kicked her in the HIP because she READ MY CARD when it was MY TURN!" i took a breath and retorted, "i have never in my entire life ACCIDENTALLY kicked someone in the HIP! not even my own brother! how does that even happen?!" up until this point there were straight (sad) faces all around, and then ella burst out laughing like a hyena, her sister followed...then i couldn't get myself together. but seriously, back when i was writing about burp cloths and binkies, i didn't think i would have to mediate a fight over a game of sorry! and a kick to the hip. i looked at both of them after the laughter and said, "you two need to go back to school, or i'm going to lose it." the little one then yelled again, "BUT SHE KICKED ME IN THE HIP!" (i can't.) i walked away shaking my head and hoping their 2nd and 4th grade teachers are ready to return to school. i also hope these aforementioned teachers have a doctorate in making snacks...cause that's what i did most of the summer. furthermore, this morning my second born got nose to nose with me (while i was sleeping) and whispered "what are we doing today?" i almost kicked her in the hip. (instead, we went swimming.)

each summer i take in the good, bad, and the ugly when it comes to being home with my kids, and heading back to school is always bittersweet for all of us. i read an article (i think sent to me by my dad) stressing how we only have 18 summers with our children. i'm already 9 years deep with one kid and 7 years deep with the other. i don't know how that happened. when i was elbows deep in dirty diapers and sleepless nights, i didn't realize that easier times would be RIGHT around the corner. when people told me that exact thing when i had newborns, i honestly wanted to throat punch them. alas, it's true. my kids just returned from what i called "grandparentpalooza" last week with my in-laws and are getting ready for another week of fun with my parents next week. many of my friends, and my own brother, are just getting into the baby game while i'm enjoying more "free time" then i've had in years. (not gonna lie, it's kind of glorious.) i received a text message from my father last night to "send games" with the kids for next week. i replied, "board games?" he said yes. remember that time he bought my 3 year old a drum set for her birthday? well...in retribution, i'm sending "sorry!" fingers crossed for at least one hip kick.

bug

so i've said it before and i'll say it again, there is something very humbling about someone vomiting in your immediate presence, or having to clean up someone's said vomit. last night i was delightfully in dreamland when i was abruptly awoken by, "mommy...my tummy hurts..." at approximately 12:37am. i rolled over and said what every mom would say in that moment, which is, "did you try to use the bathroom?" my first born then shared, that she had, in fact, used the facilities...two times. i could hear the angst in  her voice, so i told her to go over in the guest room and i would be right over. as i climbed into bed with her, i could hear "the swallows" happening. you know...where you are fighting back the saliva that is eventually going to aid the vomit in flying out of your mouth? i moved a small bathroom trashcan next to the bed, as i thought i was no novice with this (as you will see, i was wrong). i gently rubbed her back and played with her hair, not sure if the swallows were going to transpire into anything special (praying they wouldn't). 

well, at 1:16am, my first born fled to the bathroom nearby. when i went to investigate, she stated that she "just had to use the bathroom again." i waited for her to return and as she laid back down, she immediately shot straight back up and went running back for the bathroom...SANS TRASHCAN. i then heard the splash and splatter of 1000 broken dreams as her puke hit the blue carpet in the hallway. i winced, not even wanting to go out there...but if not me, the dog might get there first and that might be even more gross (she'd happily eat it). my kid was standing there, mouth agape, hair all over her head like a feral child and i ran to her like some mother figure out of a national geographic magazine (everything akimbo). to my horror, her entire meal from the night before was laid out before me in that hallway. my first thought was, "does this child not CHEW?" her dinner delicacies included penne pasta (most still whole), taco meat (like i just pulled it out of the pan), corn chips (some full sized), and like half a burrito shell (no joke).

i don't necessarily have a weak stomach, but when i saw that it almost made me run for the hills. like, i legitimately thought about what life might be like without my kids and husband if i just fled to bermuda right then and there. instead, i escorted her to the bathroom, held back her hair like a sorority sister for a few more minutes...then went to wake my husband so that i could clean up the mess and he could take care of her in the meantime (mistake). he woke up startled and scared at the mention of the words "sick" and "puke," but he slowly made his way to the bathroom and i went downstairs to grab some cleaning supplies. after cleaning up the larger chunks, the rest was a disaster. i was up to my elbows in half eaten food as i dry heaved and hoped like hell it would come out of the carpet. plus, i didn't want to wake up the culprit's little sister in the process...as that would've been a whole other level of pain. i opted eventually to get out the steam cleaner, which is now currently outside on the porch, because i can't imagine what is inside of it at this moment (nor do i want to know).

throughout the night, my first born then upchucked no less than 16 more times...every 15 minutes on the hour. (it. was. awful.) i moved her to a sleeping bag in our bedroom, which was closer to the bathroom and also gave her a large bowl instead of a skimpy trashcan (rookie mistake). at about 4:37am and losing the will to survive, my husband rolled over and said, "i'm gonna be sick..." and ran to the bathroom. he took off work and i boldly believed i would make it work myself. i got up, got dressed, got the little sister up and moving...grabbed a bottle of water, took a swig, and realized that my fate was doomed. i ran to the bathroom and then realized no one would be leaving this house today. i don't know when this stomach bug is going to vacate the premises, but if the little one gets it...i'm seriously moving to bermuda. she is dramatic as the day is long and ain't nobody got time for that. hopefully your first couple of days in the new year is filled with fun things that don't involve bodily fluids like within our family. i mean, we don't even have the christmas decorations down and there is a steam cleaner full of puke on the porch...premonition that 2019 is gonna be the best year yet? prayers welcomed.

filling

so today i was folding laundry at early o'clock and my second born casually asked me, "so what are we doing today?" kids always want an itinerary when there isn't school, and they have amazing plans and social lives for people that don't have drivers licenses. also, how do they always wake up karate chopping the air and ready to take over the free world? (i need some of that.) anyway, i mentioned that we were going to gallivant to the gym and then head home to cook my grandmother's filling for thanksgiving tomorrow. they both yelped, "CAN I HELP!?" (oh, hell.) i had a choice in that moment...to say sure and let it happen, or to tell them no. i couldn't think of any good reasons to say no, so i let it happen. (sums up motherhood.) as we geared up with about four pounds of butter and five pounds of potatoes, ella looked at me and said, "so was this, like, her recipe that she made? did she make it up?" i said, "oh i don't know...i'm sure it was passed down from her mother." then she replied quietly, "if she was here would you ask her?" my grandmother was very influential in my life and passed away when ella was 1...so naturally i had a moment and had to pull myself together. that's really fun when you are peeling potatoes.

i then pulled out the recipe (even though i could do it blindfolded) and ella read the ingredients. meanwhile carrie dangled off of a chair wild eyed like a crazed weasel, taking in every word. i had already peeled the potatoes (and had an ugly cry during), so that was done. they then tried to help me cut up the potatoes. apparently cutting potatoes is hard for little people, so instead of someone losing a finger...i said i would finish. ella then said, "wait, so if you cut off your finger does one grow back!?" i said, "nope! you just lose a finger! sometimes they can sew it back on." she cringed and then said, "wow, octopuses are more awesome than us, they grow their tentacles back when they lose one!" (indeed.) so she read the next part where we had to cut up an onion and celery. i thought celery would be easy, and read them the riot act again about sharp knives and stuff. i had no less than 3 heart attacks and 4 strokes while they were working the knives. carrie was acting all willy nilly with it and i thought for sure her tiny digits were going to be part of the filling and our thanksgiving feast. ella got cocky at one point and started going faster, i had to remind her she was not, in fact, an octopus as we moved onto the next step.

as i recovered from v fib, the potatoes stopped boiling and we drained them. at this point, it was around lunchtime, and both kids then acted like if they didn't have a meal they would surely pass out directly in the potatoes. why whenever you are in the kitchen, they NEED something from said kitchen? (snacks, drinks, etc infinity) so we took a short intermission and i made lunch amongst the cooking mess. after they were revived by mac and cheese and nuggets, i let each have a bowl and mixer. carrie looked like i gave her the golden ticket in a wonka bar at the passing of this privilege. however, when she had the power of the mixer in her hand, she forgot to hold onto the bowl...and it almost flew on the floor. (again, my heart.) potatoes were also flying like fireworks in the air as she yelped, "i don't wanna do this anymore!!!" (cripes, kid!) i gently removed the mixer from her hand, turned it off...and then poured myself a cocktail. the only reason i hadn't sooner was because i thought one of them was going to lose phalanges and we would have to uber to the ER. (no bueno.) anyway, this last step was done and i poured the filling mixture into the baking dishes for tomorrow...as both kids ran off to take over the free world in another adventure.

at the end of all this, i came up with 234 reasons why a solid "no" would've been a valid answer to their "CAN I HELP!?"...heart palpitations and flying potatoes being two of them. however, at the end of the day going into v fib and flying vegetables are just part of motherhood. (for real.) did anyone tell me it was going to be like this? no, sir. i will say the chunks of celery are a little larger than i would've allowed had i been making this dish solo. plus, there might be some lumps in it due to little hands using the mixer...but honestly who cares. my kids got to make food for thanksgiving with me that has been in my family for years. it was the first time they asked to help, and saying yes seemed to be the only answer in that moment. to answer ella's question, i would have most definitely asked my grandmother personally if she made up the recipe or got it from her mother, had she been still been here on this earth. however, i already know she was still there with us...laughing whole heartedly as fingers almost got amputated and potatoes flew. (also, as i poured a cocktail.) now, through something as simple as a filling recipe, she will always be with my kids. for that, i am grateful.

birthdays

so there are certain things they don't outline in the proverbial parenting books, such as the joys and woes of...birthday parties. they failed to mention many, many other things, but this is a big one. if you have children, think about a lackadaisical sunday and what you filled your time with on that afternoon sans work prior to procreating. did you enjoy reading a book? perhaps an adult beverage? getting ready for the week ahead with a long and luxurious nap? prior to having kids, these were some of the magical things i was doing on a sunday afternoon. i used to refer to it as "sunday funday." if you don't currently have children, i suggest you suck all the fun out of sunday that it has to offer (every last drop). as a parent, today it was more like, "sunday why did i chose to procreate and then have these creatures wear roller skates day." sound like fun? i didn't think so.

let's throw in here that on this particular sunday, there was monsoon weather conditions outside. i swear that when we opened to the door to walk out into the free world, the flag pole bend in HALF in front of our eyes and barred our way off the porch (i can't make this up.) both kids screamed and ran back inside, as i shook my head. we went back in to regroup as the rain and winds mocked me from the other side of the door. if mother nature were any kind of mother at all she wouldn't have whipped up this mayhem as we were heading out to a birthday party that afternoon. she would've calmed things down and said, "this motherhood gig is hard enough, so i'll just give you short respite from the rain." anyways, we ran out to the car and water was flying SIDEWAYS, as they were wearing hoods and rainboots...i won't mention that one kid was wearing SNOW boots due to the fact that we couldn't find her rain variety.

anyway, we all dove in the car away from the water like we were the wicked witches of the west and we were all going to melt. if you are anything like me, i still hadn't gotten a gift or card, so two more stops were in order before we even sauntered into the birthday party like i had that stuff prepared all week. as we rolled up route 97, the rain was coming down and i proceeded to hydroplane on the highway. i yelled, "OOO!" as my offspring screamed from the backseat. then came the questions, "what was THAT mommy?!" "why did the car do that?!" "were we SURFING?" "WHAT HAPPENED!?" (holy balls ladies, calm down.) i explained what "hydroplaning" meant and satisfied with the answer...they proceeded to go right back to poking each other and kicking each other with their boots (one snow, one rain...respectively) in the backseat. 

as we arrived on the scene, i couldn't help but notice that this roller rink looked exactly like the skating rink i went to as a kid from the outside. then when we walked in, it's like we took a time machine right back to the 1980s. i swear even the lady collecting the tickets was wearing a guns n roses t-shirt and had magnificent teased bangs. also, the gum still stuck in the carpet was from 1986. i quickly realized that there was not one birthday party going on at this place, there were 4 (FOUR!) parties simultaneously happening at one time. i stood awkwardly when we walked in an stared around in circles...secretly hoping we had come to the wrong place and could head right back home down hydroplane lane. suddenly, i heard my name being yelled and saw the mom of the birthday girl waving violently at me. nope, i wasn't getting out of this one. not today.

shortly after arrival, both of my kids got skates and although i can't fully explain what they looked like when they finally strapped them on and stood up, but it was somewhere between a baby deer fresh out of the womb and a college kid coming home from a frat party on a friday night. they both had this wild look in their eyes, too, like i was somehow willing them to slide all over the place and i was at fault for their follies. shortly after one kid face planted, we found some walker type thing on wheels to help them out. i had to sign them out and the lady with the teased hair, pencil, and notebook warned me that i better bring back the right number walkers. i wondered what she thought i was going to do with them...like, steal them? what use would they be outside of this skating rink? i gave her a serious head nod and walked away (relax, susan, i won't steal it).

like i said before, there were four birthday parties going on at one time. so think about what i said about my own children being drunk deer...and then multiply that by at least 73 kids. there were limbs and tears flying EVERYWHERE. kids were crashing into each other, cinder block walls, benches...me. then there were those adults who thought they would go back to the 1980s in their hearts and minds and give it a go. a grown man ricocheted into the wall and wiped out right in front of me...it took everything in my being not to laugh in his (bruised) face, and i consider myself a nice person! my second born fell flat on her back like 3 times, and i had a mini stroke each time hoping she didn't hit her head or break a bone. my first born ditched the walker and was wildly trying to balance and be cool at the same time (EVERYTHING akimbo). adrenaline was at an all time high at this point.

had it not been for another mom friend amidst this misery, i may have left like 16 minutes into this nightmare. after happy birthday rang through the air, i would've returned those walkers (easy, susan) and ran out the door and back into the rain. she and i made eye contact when we first got there, and it was very apparent we were on the same wave length. we were somewhere between, "what are we doing here?" and "we want our kids to have fun!" i feel like the roller rink today was a metaphor for motherhood in a lot of ways...as i often ask questions like, "what am i doing here?" while tears and face plants happen around me. however, misery loves company and you end up commiserating with other moms who are skating the same rinks. when we got into the car, both kids exclaimed, "that was REALLY FUN!" so sunday funday might not mean what it used to, but at least someone was having a good time. that aside, i aged approximately fourteen years this afternoon. if that sounds like fun, then parenting might be for you.

prizes

so it's the most wonderful time of the year, as they say. i don't know who "they" are...but "they" surely aren't traveling with a dog and two children all over god's creation during this most wonderful time. kids are perpetual monkey wrenches in the game of life and while traveling, they always have some extra tricks up their sleeves. my second born's latest trick included projectile vomit of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the confines of the car. i've always said that being puked on or cleaning up someone else's puke will humble you in a way nothing else can. when you have kids, it's just part of the territory. puke and poop are like consolation prizes in the game of parenting. as you know, consolation prizes go to runners up or losers in a contest....in this instance the loser is you (surprise!). our car ride played out something like this:

we had grand plans of heading up north visit my sister in law, cause she was flying in with her new baby and our nephew for a visit from colorado. our own kids were counting down the days they would get to play with their cousins. we were also very excited to see them...however, the part we are never excited for is the traveling part. the packing, the driving, the sheer amount of time it takes to get a family of four and a dog out the door is a little ridiculous. actually, it's borderline insane. i will say that it is one billion (give or take) times easier than when they were babies, but it's still equal to a brain hemorrhage on a hot day (it blows). so we spent friday night packing up everything that we needed for our two day voyage, including the kitchen sink...everything except for the puke bags.

the first leg of the trip started off stellar...we set sail from maryland with not a care in the world and zero traffic to deal with. we left early due to impending snow, and made it to my parents house for a quick visit in record time. i felt like fist pounding my husband when we made it there so quickly and without incident (i should've known my elation would be short lived). then, he and i gallivanted around our hometown sans children, christmas shopping and such, while my parents hung out with the kids. my mom proceeded to fill their bellies with food and apple juice galore so they wouldn't be hungry for the second part of the trip to the poconos (the plan backfired, nanny). we made them go to the bathroom no less then 12 times before they left and we went on our way.

it was snowing pretty steadily at this point and the roads were a bit slick. both kids were wearing sweaters and boots and tightly strapped in the backseat with the dog between them. about 20 minutes into the 90 minute trip i decided to call fen and see what type of glorious things she was getting into on that fine saturday afternoon. turns out she was sipping wine and writing christmas cards...and i secretly cursed her from afar. suddenly i heard what seemed like a whine slash scream from the backseat and i yelled, 'i gotta go!' and hung up on fen. i turned around to see my second born looking rather green and asking me for some water. i got her a water bottle then frantically turned to look for something for her to vomit in. mother intuition told me something was coming and this something wasn't going to be good.

as i scoured the car, i turned to see projectile puke containing peanut butter and jelly sandwich exploding from my child's face. it hit the back passenger seat, went down into the pocket, and also all over her lap (holy hell!). i grabbed for starbucks napkins from the glove box to clean up the mess as she was crying and complaining that a whole piece of crust came out of her nose (it did. i saw it with my own eyeballs.) in that moment i turned to look at my husband who was driving. the color had gone from his face and i could tell that he was questioning every life decision he had made to this point in regard to children. he said, "how bad is it?" i said, "it's pretty bad. it's everywhere." he hates when his car is messy on a normal day, but throw in some peanut butter regurgitation all over his leather seats (and down in the pocket) and we are now talking about veering off the road into a nearby lake.

i stifled my laughter about his reaction....and then heard my first born gagging and screaming. i slowly turned around to see the dog happily eating the vomit off of my child and the leather seat (it was, in fact, disgusting). the thrower of the puke was in some weird place of her own just staring at me and wondering what i was going to do next. i found a random towel, covered the puke, and gave her some water. we cracked the window and hoped for the best, as we still had 25 minutes to go and it was snowing heavily so we didn't want to stop. my husband didn't talk the rest of the trip. however, there wasn't much to say at this point other than, "did that really just happen?" she's never been carsick before, so this little trick was just there lying in wait for our fun little holiday jaunt. the most wonderful time of the year? i beg to differ. if you are a parent and have experienced consolation prizes such as these, i'm currently preaching to the choir. if you aren't and plan on being one...better stock up on puke bags, cause it's gonna be a bumpy ride.

barge

so i have been barged in on in the bathroom no less than a billion times since my kids were born. hell, i remember having ella in the bouncy seat while i showered, cause if she was more than a stone's throw away from me she would start crying. there i was washing my ass as quickly as i could while playing peek-a-boo behind the shower curtain. you do weird shit when you have kids, that's just one of the things they didn't tell me about in the parenting books (shower curtain peek-a-boo). anyways, like i said, my kids have interrupted both showers and other bathroom business a billion times, but last night it was a bit different. last night my second born came bursting into the bathroom screaming and snot all over her face, cause she sucked a BEAD up her nostril...and it was stuck. it took me a second to process what the hell was happening, but as i sat down she came in the bathroom like a high school band at half time (cymbals blarin'). not far behind her was my first born...and my husband. mind you, i'm sitting on the TOILET and ella, who is like a first grade investigator, was like, "she sucked a bead up her nose..." and held out an example in her own hand. the bead was little, so i had fears of her snorting it so hard it would like go to her brain or something. i grabbed a wad of toilet paper and yelled, "BLOW!"

there is something weird about kids and blowing their noses, but most of them suck at it. they can do the old 1-2 wipe job, but blowing always poses a problem for some reason. anyways, i think panic took over and for the first time in her life, carrie decided it was time to blow the hell out of her nose. after about the fifth try, the bead came out in the tissue. her face was equal parts relieved and horrified. my face was equal parts relieved and everyone can get the hell out of the bathroom now. butch was still standing there dumbfounded and i realized my second born must've bypassed him (in the bedroom) and come straight to me (in the bathroom). i asked him later if she did that and he said, "no, she did come to me and i told her to go see her mother..." (sounds about right). after extraction, i asked carrie how the bead went up her nose in the first place and she said (and i quote), "i was trying to smell it." (what.) i said, "smell a plastic bead?" she said, "yes. it smells like nothin." (no shit!). in other news, i guess we can stop saving for harvard? (that was a close one.) so that's how monday evening played out in our house right before bedtime. bead extractions from the confines of the bathroom whilst peeing. if that sounds fun then parenting might be for you.

now. let me let you in on a little secret. last week both my husband and my kids had spring break from school...and my county was still in session. with the help of my in laws, butch took the kids to the beach. for the whole week. you wanna know what i was doing last monday? i was on a boat with a beer in one hand an the wind blowing through my hair...not making children blow beads out of their noses so they don't get lodged in their brain. people who knew they were leaving kept asking, "what are you gonna DO when they are gone?! what are  you gonna DO!?" i wanted to answer, "wanna know what i'm NOT gonna do? i'm NOT gonna cook, do laundry, clean, pack lunches, pick up after people, help with homework, go to soccer, go to dance, wipe anyone's ass, make dinner, give baths, or go through a bedtime ritual. those are things i'm not gonna do." guess what? i found other shit to do. i went to a barbeque, went boating, got a pedicure, went for drinks, had wine on the back deck with fen, played kickball in DC...i did shit every day that they were gone. i found shit to do. i missed the hell out of their cute little faces, but i did not miss the hell out of all of the responsibility they bring. it was 5 full days of selfish gloriousness. this week i have spring break, so i'm kinda doing the stay at home mom thing, cause they are back in school. which is also quite glorious, minus the packing lunches part.

as an added bonus, in those 5 days they were gone, not one person barged in on me in the bathroom! little things you take for granted when you aren't parenting...like peeing alone. as soon as they came back on last friday, it was around noon. fen was here as they burst through the doors and ella's first words to me were, "i MISSED you mommy...can you make me some LUNCH!?" carrie piped in, "ME TOO! I'M HUNGRY and i gotta POOP, can you wipe me!?" fen took one look at me and sing songed, "they're BAAAAACCCKKK!" with a smirk on her face. when you have your first child, your life takes a crazy shift and suddenly you are responsible for another human 24 hours a day. as they get older, you are still responsible for them, but you get more breaks in between and it's not round the clock care (you can breathe). however, i wasn't warned prior to beginning my parenting journey that my kid might barge into the bathroom because she accidentally sucked a bead up her nose and needs my assistance to get it out (no warning). yesterday, on their last day of their spring break...i took both kids shopping, for lunch, and ice cream. later, prior to the bead incident, i did the soccer mom thing and took carrie to practice. i snapped this picture of her, and this smile is something i wouldn't give up for anything. moreover, now that we know harvard is off the table...maybe we can hope for a soccer scholarship somewhere? fingers crossed.