tantrums

so today is our last day of spring break and we decided to go for a leisurely lunch at cheesecake factory. leisurely being the key word and ultimate goal here. we left our house about 11:30, which apparently turned out to be dangerously close to naptime. (first mistake) as we nestled into our oversized booth, the waitress (a perky blonde, who was about my age...but wearing braces) asked us if we would like a high chair or a booster seat. "ah, what the hell, let's try the booster seat," i said. (second mistake) at first, ella was pumped about her maiden voyage with the booster seat, sitting on it like she was the queen of sheba. we were oohhhing and aaahhhing at her for the first 5 minutes telling her what a 'big girl' she was. (i'm pretty sure at this point, she was plotting her next stunt.)

the food came. after a few bites of french fries, the queen decided the throne was a bad choice and she wanted to bounce around the booth like ping pong ball. she was up and down, hanging off of butch's head like a hat,wiping her greasy fingers all over his shirt, knocking down the salt and pepper shakers...which then sent her into an extreme sneezing fit due to the black specks all over her hands. people were starting to stare. at that point, i said, "do you want to come and sit with mommy?" (third mistake) she shook her head yes and before butch could grab her, stepped ON TOP OF the table and climbed over it godzilla style...stepping directly on my sandwich and knocking over my cup of fries. after i grabbed her she began pawing for my iced tea, simultaneously dipping the spilled fries in ketchup and licking the ketchup off yelling YUM. YUM. YUM. loud enough for anyone in a 10 foot radius to hear.

prior to this, i would see children behaving like this at restaurants and say, "my child will never, ever act like THAT!" (um, newsflash sister...your first born is acting like THAT.) after i got ketchup smeared on my dress for the fourth time, i took the fries away and calmly said, "that's enough." this sent her into a tailspin. she started yelling "NONONONONO!" (all the while fighting me like a rape victim.) she was punching me in the jugular, gauging at my eyeballs, and throwing herself around. first major tantrum, in public. (it was lotsa fun.) there were plenty of people staring now and i felt like mother of the year. blond brace face came back and said over ella's screams, "um, would you like the check now?" (i wanted to yell back (as i had my child in a headlock)...yeah, pumpkin, that would be spectacular. do you also have a tranquilizer gun in the back you could bring me?) i know other parents were probably sympathetic with the whole situation, but i'd be willing to guess there were people like my former self saying, "my child will never, ever...."

thank god as we walked out of the restaurant, pigtailed princess in pink had gotten herself under control. (i almost felt that we should all take a bow and ask the people around us if they enjoyed the show.) in the parking lot, i turned to butch and said, "well, that was fun...." he said, "fun!? fun for who? that was about as fun as getting a tooth pulled!" note to self (and other parents)...never underestimate your child (and their behavior), because they will make a liar out of you every. single. time.

liar, liar...pants on fire.

so much for a leisurely lunch. fail.

nesting

i have been nesting the shit out of my house the past couple of days. (i could barely stop long enough to write this.) for those of you that aren't privy to this phenomenon, it is the instinct that takes over a pregnant woman's brain and body...convincing them that if they do not clean and organize to the point of exhaustion, the child inhabiting their uterus will spontaneously combust upon birth. (you may laugh, but this is truly what it feels like...at least to me) if i don't go back to work soon, the entire contents of my house will be posted on craigslist and freecycle. there is also currently a large desk in my front yard with a 'free' sign hanging from it, a boxspring on my front porch, and several bags of miscellaneous items in bags awaiting delivery to goodwill. not to mention the fact that i made my husband clean out the attic today, because 'it just needed to be done'. it's a sickness. i've talked to other pregnant people about this, and i'm so glad i'm not the only one. one of my friends at one point was cleaning the rings that hold up her shower curtain. (apparently her newborn baby was going to need an impromptu teether?) one morning last week, i was bent over the toilet scrubbing it with bleach before work. butch just stared. (at this point, i think i scare him...he doesn't say too much.)

so, after ella was born...i kinda understood why this instinct kicks in. after you actually give birth to the baby, you do not have enough energy to wipe your own ass let alone clean and organize your house. things kind of go awry and you are so damn tired that the thought of cleaning a bathroom or organizing anything is kind of scary. (frightening, really.) butch has put up with my crap for the past couple of days, but i know at some point he is going to really going to lose his shit and tell me to knock it the hell off. prior to painting ella's big girl room (our former guest room) on friday, i showed him the colors i liked. i held out two paint swatches and he goes, "oh my god, trish! we can't paint ella's room that color." i looked at the swatch and was thinking...what the hell? it's PINK for christsake! instead i said, "why!?" he said, "um, the name?? Pink Ballet STRIPPER!...we can't have the color 'pink ballet stripper' on the walls of our daughters room!" confused, i looked at it again and then yelled, "the color is called pink ballet SLIPPER you moron!" after a laughing spell, he agreed that the pink ballet stripper hue would be just fine. i figure it's a good thing to keep him laughing, because i'd rather not have him smother me in my sleep. (maybe this is why so many husbands kill their pregnant wives?)

you know damn well that you are acting like martha stewart on steroids, but you can't stop. i had butch so wound up on saturday, that after loading our car with furniture (that was being transported to my friend fen's house), he backed my car into his car that was also parked in our driveway. i heard a smash and looked out the bay window. he gets out (face chalk white) and sees me and i yell (through the window) "what the hell are you doing?!" he goes, "i didn't see my damn car! i didn't see it!!" (hands flying all over the place) judging from the array of shit on our lawn and porch, along with that glorious incident...our neighbors probably think we are goddamn idiots. (rightfully, so.) upon inspection, the cars weren't that banged up...and we laughed about it, but i know his breaking point is coming soon. again, i need to go back to work so that i don't have so much time on my hands to devote to this nesting business. i just got done dangling from a ladder (cleaning the ceiling fans) long enough to write this. however, i will say, i really hope that when i do go back to work after easter that i have everything cleaned and organized the right way...because i surely don't want my unborn child to bust into flames upon delivery.

quotes

here are some of my favorite classroom quotes and pictures from March. enjoy.

3.1.12
"mrs. s, do you watch basketball wives?"
"no...do you?"
"yes, with my mom...but when they do bad stuff on there, she covers my eyes. when they say bad stuff on there, she covers my ears. i actually don't really know what the show is about."


3.2.12
i was reading james and the giant peach to the kids. at the end of one of the chapters, a little girl raises her hand and says, (really excited) 
"mrs s! it looks like you are the one who ate the giant peach!!"
(very funny kid...you fail.) 


3.5.12
we were reviewing the letter Dd this week, and the kids had to draw something that began with that letter. one little girl was working really hard on her picture, and giggling the whole time. when she had to share with the rest of the class, she could barely say what she drew.

her dad in a dress

(and yes, he has a mustache...)

3.7.12
"mrs. s, i was walking to my friends house yesterday and a bird pooped on my head."
"sounds like fun..."
(pissed) "it wasn't." 


"my brother is becoming a MAN! he is getting hair under his arms!" 
(i laughed.)


3.8.12
when the kids ask me where i sleep at night, sometimes i mess with them and say 'in one of the lockers.' they usually laugh, but i can tell some of them aren't sure if i'm being serious or not. one little girl was left at the end of the day and we were waiting for her mom to pick her up. the conversation went something like this:


"mrs. s, is it true what you said about sleeping in one of the lockers at night?"
"no, silly. i am just joking when i say that. i sleep in a bed."
(relieved) "yeah! everyone sleeps in a bed...well, everyone except for God."
(right you are...)


3.14.12
a child runs up to my desk first thing in the morning, obviously overly excited about something. (nearly bursting)
"mrs. s! i have something very important to tell you...today, before school, i saw a WORM."
(i wish i could get that excited about anything...let alone a worm!)


3.20.12
what i read: "A dear whore comes out when it is winter."

what he meant to say: "A deer's horns come off when it is winter."
(whoops.)


3.21.12
during snack time:
"mrs. s, does liquor begin with an 'L'?"
 "yes, it does." 
"oh, okay...'cause that's what my mommy drinks."
(yesss....)


free journal writing

so i ask, "what is going on with this picture?"

"well, there were two guys fighting and they are both saying (whispering) 'what the F', but i didn't want to write the F word so i just wrote "f"."

(yea, that's what i thought...just confirming...)

3.28.12

during sharing time:
"there was this little boy named trayvon martin...and he was carrying skittles and a pepsi and some man shot him. oh, and he was wearing a hooded sweatshirt. his parents had to have a funeral for him...they were sad. and i don't understand why the man shot him."
(you and a lot of other people, pal...)


another child pipes in and says with his hands flailing in front of him:
"i don't know about all that, but i do know that when you die they put you in a big box and bury you in the dirt..."
(true.)


3.29.12
two of the last kids sitting in my class having a chat before dismissal:
"man, i am so glad we have spring break now. my brain hurts so much from all the stuff we learned today."
"yeah, i learned a lot of stuff today, too. my brain is really hurting." (hand on head)
(apparently, kindergarten is brutal.)




"laughter need not be cut out of anything...since it improves everything." 
-james thurber

sleep

this picture depicts exactly how i was feeling around noon today...and i just so happened to get this text from ella's sitter at that moment. you see, our little bundle of love was up at midnight for no apparent reason. she's usually a good sleeper, but at least once a week she wakes up crying in the middle of the night and i bring her into our bed, then transport her back over to her room about a half an hour later. (gasp! the books tell you not to do this, it will become a habit...screw you books) last night was our "once a week" ritual. also, after i brought her into bed with us, i was getting slammed in the ribs by deuce (baby number two) from the inside, and physically assaulted by flailing arms and legs of the almost two year old from the outside. (double whammy) although ella was probably up from about midnight to one, i was up much longer than that. butch was scratching his ball sack, blissfully dreaming (probably about coupons) at this point and had no idea she had even in bed with us when he woke up (refreshed) this morning. (that sword is looking better and better with each passing night...)


ever since ella was born, sleep is so different. (the books never tell you that stellar tidbit) when you have your first kid...sleep is never, ever the same. i am seriously like a ninja in the night and any noise i hear sends me into fury of panic. (like karate kid on crack) prior to having a kid, you could've driven a bulldozer through our bedroom and i wouldn't have batted an eye. today, the joy of all this is that i couldn't pass out on the couch like sleeping beauty up there. i was at work. i think moms and dads just get used to walking around in a haze of sleeplessness most of the time. it's the new normal. tomorrow begins spring break for both butch and i. the thing we are most looking forward to? sleep. (not cancun. not booze. not wild parties.) just sleep. oh, how things have changed...and little miss midnight better be on the same page with this sleep idea, because although i love her, i would rather not have a toddler wrapped around my neck like a scarf during the wee hours of the morning. (and yes, i would like some cheese with my whine...thanks.) 




"There was never a child so lovely but his mother was glad to get him to sleep."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

bachelor

so butch left today for a bachelor party in atlantic city. i wouldn't be concerned, but the last couple of times he's gone away overnight...there have been tales to tell the next day. for instance, about 2 years ago he went to harrisburg to meet some of our friends for a renaissance fair. the day before he left, he had yet another dentist issue so he was hopped up on vicodin. he called me about 3 hours after he left and said that he was pulled over by a cop with a gaggle of monkeys...i mean guys...in his car because he drove the wrong way up a one way street. but, he said, "no big deal! i didn't get a ticket!" (um...or die??) apparently the guy hyped up on vicodin was a much better candidate for 'driver' than the rest of them. i didn't hear much the rest of the day...nor did i care to. the next afternoon, he came stumbling through the front door looking really rough and...he was carrying a large (very large) sword. (yes, a sword. see picture...you almost have to, to understand how big it is.)

taken last night. he insisted on being shirtless.

i said, "what is with the sword?" he said (super excited), "isn't it cool!? it's like one from the olden days!" i rolled my eyes, making no attempt to share his enthusiasm, "isn't that kinda dangerous to have that laying around the house?" he looked at me and said, "um, noooo trish, it's not...it's not even BATTLE READY!" i exclaimed, "ohhhhh oooookay....not battle ready? perfectly acceptable to have in the house then..." (wtf...and by not battle ready, he meant not sharpened.) so later that day, i check our bank account and see that his little sword purchase is on our joint account. the sword was ninety dollars. not nine...ninety. he also didn't realize that our first mortgage payment (ever) was coming out of that large sum that was in there...and we bounced our very first mortgage check. i had to call the bank and explain that my husband had bought a sword (but don't worry, it's not battle ready) and he didn't realize the check hadn't come out yet. that was a fun conversation. also, it showed up as "sword" on our online banking statement. (pulled over, a sword, and a bounced mortgage check...exhibit A)

last summer, he went to atlantic city for my brother's bachelor party. ella wasn't feeling great before he left, but it wasn't the bubonic plague or anything so i thought i could handle it. we didn't know if she was teething, or had a cold...she just wasn't herself. (sick kids are the worst.) needless to say, she did get progressively worse throughout the day and i decided to take her temperature around 8pm before putting her to bed. her temperature was 105.6. (yeah, i know-scary high...i was shitting my pants.) i called the emergent care place to see what i should do...obviously, this was not "normal" and something was wrong. they said to bring her in immediately. i called my uncle who lives right around the corner to meet me there. i get there and they whisk me in, strip her down, and apply cold compresses to her body. i'm telling you all this to let you know what frame of mind i was in. here i was, a new mom...first super high fever, emergent care, and the (male) nurse is also telling me to 'not worry' if she has a seizure. (um, yeah...i'm pretty sure you are going to hear screams if that happens pal...so back off.)

my aunt and uncle showed up and came in the room. they asked if i had called butch. (oh, yeah. him. the father. whoops.) i didn't want to call him if he was highly intoxicated because i didn't want him to hop in the car and high tail it home in a panic. so i texted. i texted, "hey, how are you?" (just to get a feel for what his frame of mind was...) about 25 minutes passes and i hear my phone beep. i go over, pick it up and it says..."AT ROULETTE!! WHAT UP??" i turned the phone around so my uncle could read it and he went into hysterics. here i am, with this sick baby (panic attack city) and he's "at roulette" and asking me "what up." if i would've texted him "what was up" he wouldn't have liked my response. (my middle finger, jerkoff, that's what's up.) i wrote back nothing instead. the next morning, i called him and didn't get an answer...so then i called my brother. my brother was like..."um....yeah....he's sorta....missing...." 'WHAT?! SORTA MISSING!? WHERE THE HELL IS HE!?' he was like...ummm...i don't know. when i finally got in touch with butch, he said he woke up on the couch in the hotel room, found some chips in his pocket and decided to "try his luck" the next morning at the roulette table. well good thing you tried your luck there, because your luck has run out at this house pal. (105.6 fever = at roulette, what up?...exhibit B)

so tomorrow, i am expecting nothing less than a tale to be told after his trip. i always worry when a bunch of our guy friends get together for a little outing...it's the equivalent of opening the monkey cage at the zoo and saying...be freeeee!!!!!! (the movie 'the hangover' is really not that farfetched...) i'll be sure to keep y'all posted upon his return. however, he should've thought twice about that sword purchase...it may just come in handy tomorrow night. (what up lorena bobbitt?...what up.)

spring

a five year old's drawing of winter & spring: spot on

i'm pretty sure i have the disorder SAD. (Seasonal Affective Disorder) you know the one...where people get depressed during the winter? i mean, i've never been formally diagnosed...but i'm pretty sure i fall somewhere on that spectrum during the winter months. but really, doesn't almost everyone? i can only name a few people i know that 'love' winter. (and i'm pretty sure these people have an intellect rivaled by only garden tools) for the most part, the majority of my friends enjoy daylight and warm weather rather than darkness and cold. i was watching yet another episode of curious george with ella the other day, still waiting for that glorious moment when george to goes ape shit on the man in the yellow hat (so that i don't have to watch anymore...) and george was gazing out the window on a dreary winter day. the man with the yellow hat said to george, "winter: it's a roller coaster of blah." and i thought....how true you philosophical son of a bitch. how true.


now, i know...this particular winter wasn't that bad. i've proclaimed it 'fake winter.' we didn't even get one snow storm where i live. however, dumb daylight savings time still made it dark at 4pm and there were still some chilly days thrown in there. the sun didn't shine as much as i'd like, either. it was a rollercoaster of blah. so finally...the ride is over and we find ourselves at the first day of spring. i don't know if you've noticed, but when the weather is warmer and the sun is shining...people are actually more pleasant. people act more normal. people begin to enjoy life again because they don't feel like ax murderers. (and i am one of those people) if you are someone like me, return your ax to the shed, stay outside and enjoy the weather. if you are one of those people that is sad that winter is over, i have no words for you...except you are a few screws short of a hardware store. welcome back, spring...we've missed you.

shenanigans

so we had this plan for st. patrick’s day. i’ve noticed when you have kids, you always have to have a ‘plan.’ i’m not sure why, exactly, we make these 'plans' because they usually end up going awry despite how organized you seem. however, we had one…our plan was to go downtown for pancakes and pints at a local irish pub early in the morning. we were assured that this was a kid friendly endeavor and a large group of us were involved. (11 men, women & children total…to be exact) i had visions of the guys enjoying guinness, the kids laughing and eating their pancakes in their green outfits, and myself sipping on a virgin bloody mary enjoying the irish holiday…that is not what happened at all. so here’s what ended up acutally happening...

my husband’s roommate from college is in town visiting. (polar bear head wedding gift...if you follow my blog) he came down on friday night so he would be there to execute the plan on saturday morning. we all got up and dressed the kids. we were ready to go when i got a phone call in the early morning from one of our friends who was supposed to be joining us…and he was letting me know he was not going because his kids would rather watch elmo. (these were his exact words. oooooookay, so minus 3.) then we drive downtown, we park and the 5 of us get out and walk. we get to the pub, and there is a line. at 8am. i guess i should’ve known…because there are so many fake irish people on st. paddy’s day it’s ridiculous. (an amateur holiday, at best...unless you are actually irish.)

anyways, there was a line. another family was supposed to meet us there, and i saw the man of the house, minus kid and wife standing in the line.  (so now we were down another 2..) it didn’t take us too long to get to the front, but both kids (a one & two year old) were not enjoying the wait, and my patience was also running thin. of course, once we get to the front of the line…the restaurant is at “capacity” and we can’t get in.  we have to wait. longer. as i was standing there, diaper bag over my shoulder, stroller in hand, toddler hanging off of my husband’s head, minus half of our entire group…not to mention, eye level with the bouncer’s nut sack (who was cracking jokes with his capacity counter clicker in hand saying that he would have to do 1 ½ clicks for me because of my belly. wise ass.)…i thought, how the hell did i get here? and not get here like to this actual bar…but this actual predicament. when did i get so old?? toddlers, husbands, a large round belly filled with a baby...i remember st. patty's days filled with shots of jameson, lotsa beer, and pure shenanigans. now, not so much. however, we still have shenanigans, but those of a completely different variety.

during my epiphany, the bouncer tells us we can actually get into the restaurant. we sauntered in (ala dog and pony show) and walked around a few times looking for a table. nothing. now under normal circumstances, we would get a beer and stand around and wait…however, we had the kids, who still hadn’t eaten breakfast. (and who wants to deal with a meltdown of 2 hungry children…certainly not me.) as we were standing there deciding what to do, an older woman (probably 65) who was about 250 bills (with a cane) tapped me on the shoulder and asked me if i wanted to sit in her seat. (holy shit, do i really look that large and uncomfortable??) i guess so...and you better believe i took her offer and sat down. (no shame in my game.) we waited another 15 minutes for a table and then aborted the whole mission. i almost elbowed the bouncer (with the clicker) in the crotch on the way out the door. we drove back to our side of town and went to a smaller irish pub that had tables to sit in and no bouncers. however, the guy who had originally showed up sans wife and kid decided not to go. so here we were, the original 5 of us, almost 2 hours later…now just 2 miles from our house sitting at a totally different irish restaurant. 

needless to say, our ‘plan’ had gone horribly awry. kids will do that. which brings me to my point.…with kids (and in life, really), you can't plan anything, because the harder you try, the harder things will fail. all you can do is hold on and enjoy the ride...and try as hard as you can not to elbow bouncers that piss you off in the nut sack.

"life is what happens to you when you are busy making other plans." -john lennon