maintenance

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

"WHAT A JOKE!"

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

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

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

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

dress up time this weekend with daddy.

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

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

bunny

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

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

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

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

fool

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

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

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

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

snow

monday morning, my husband sauntered downstairs wearing khakis, flip flops...and a hawaiian flowered shirt. i vaguely remembered him mentioning something over the weekend about wearing this, but wasn't really paying attention. (whoops.) i basically ignored his wacky get up and went on with making my eggs. (i may have raised an eyebrow his way.) shortly after, he yelled, "ALOHA!" and threw a "hang ten" symbol in my direction when he was walking towards the door for work. i silently gave him a thumbs up...and then flipped him off when he was around the corner. (i'm not a morning person by any means.) after he left, i sincerely hoped that his shirt had something to do with a "special" day at school...and that he didn't lose his mind on that fine monday morning. (it was 26 degrees outside.) anyway, i went upstairs to wake up my two cherubs and was pleasantly surprised when no one had poop in their pants. smelling shit first thing in the morning makes me even more salty than normal. (imagine that.) both of my kids are not chipper in the early hours either, so when i wake them up...it's kinda like a trifecta of pain between us. moreover, since their birth, i have had to give up luxuries in the morning, such as showering and hot coffee. i now wash my ass at night and sip a lukewarm filled travel mug on the way to work. i'm okay with all this though, because i know all the other awesome mommy moments balance things out. (no sarcasm there, i promise.)

so enough with monday and motherhood mayhem...today there was a chance of snow. (what!?) at this point in the year (ahem, almost the end of march.) i am over it. (over the snow that is.) i'm really ready for spring. however, something magical happened today in my classroom. something that i felt the need to share, because it changed my perspective about snow...even if it is happening in the spring. as my students were sitting on the carpet this morning (and i in my rocking chair), the white stuff starting falling from the sky. believe me, i am no match for mother nature when it comes to snow and i will be the first to admit it. i know as soon as one of the kids spots it, all hell will break lose and someone is going to squeal. sure enough, one of the little boys was walking back to get a tissue and happened to look out the window. he yelped (loudly), "SNOW, SNOW! LOOK AT THE SNOW!" (oh crap.) all 34 eyeballs on the carpet turned around to gaze out the window and all concentration on the story i was reading was lost. there were screams, yells, giggles, and full on belly laughter from some of them. i slowly closed my book and said, "we can go to the window and take a peek." so i called them two at a time to walk to the window. two at a time, because if i would've said "go" there would've been a stampede. they were mesmerized and stayed there staring for a good 5 minutes. (i shoulda snuck out to the teacher's lounge for a cup of coffee or something.)

here's the thing...these kids have seen snow before. with the winter we've had...they've seen lots of it. however, each one of them acted as if it was the very first time they were looking at it. they were all in awe...over precipitation. truth be told, this happens often in my classroom with lots of things other than snow. for instance, their enthusiasm for play doh, a new story, a puppet show, a song, learning something they didn't know before, a joke, a new box of crayons or a fresh pack of markers...anything, really. kids get excited about everything. as adults, we have lot to learn from them. as the snow continued to fall outside (straight through my language arts lesson), i couldn't help but feeling like every other adult on the east coast...i was OVER IT. if mother nature was standing in the near vicinity, i would've sucker punched her in the vagina. (i'm sorry, i would.) i'm dreaming of beaches, flip flops, and short sleeve shirts...not more snow. however, in this moment, these kids somehow made me not hate it. (some of them would just randomly look out the window and smile about it.) finally, i told them if we got done our (mandated) morning work...we would go outside and play in it. they legitimately lost. their. minds. we took a couple of deep breaths and got back to work. when we finished up, they put on their coats and lined up at the door. again, their excitement was palpable. (they were going nuts, actually.) when i opened the doors to the outside, each child burst out as if shot out of a cannon and almost every one of them did the same thing...they put their heads back, tongues out, and tried to catch the flakes. (awesome.) then most were jumping, dancing, and prancing around in it. (it was fun to watch.)

in order to make our outdoor adventure educational, i brought out some black construction paper and mini magnifying glasses for each of them to use. they caught the snowflakes on their paper and then got to look at the different shapes under their magnifying glasses. (they LOVED this.) i talked to them about symmetry and how each snowflake is unique. i didn't have a lesson plan to go with this activity, but i know they still learned something. when we got back inside i wrote the word "snow" on the chalk board. we did a shared writing activity about the white stuff. they had to give me words to describe the snow or how it made them feel. they blurted out words like, fun!, excited!, white!, wet!, happy!, awesome!...to name a few. (the exclamation points were necessary, because that's how they said them.) so after doing this, my saltiness for the snow quickly faded and i saw the bigger picture. the snow is going to melt. spring will (eventually) be here. we need to stop whining about winter and (as my dad would say) suck it up! it seems that summer brings out the best in people, and winter brings out the worst. however, when seeing it through a child's eyes...it really doesn't matter what season it is or what the weather is outside. they live in the moment and soak up each day for what it's worth. we can all learn from that...or at least i did.

as i left the gym after work this evening, my husband sent me a text that said, "ella is convinced we changed her name to honey boo boo." i wrote, "i don't even know how to respond to that." first of all, she's never seen that show, nor knows who she is...so i have no idea where she got that from. second of all...what!? that's hilarious. when i walked in the front door, carrie was sitting at the table and she was coloring. with markers. all over herself. (hands covered.) i came around the corner and said to my husband, "umm...why does carrie have markers!?" butch said, "no worries! they are WASHABLE!" (ok then.) she seemed to be having a good time, so i just let it go and shook my head. (i was just glad they weren't in her mouth.) honey boo boo (i mean, ella.) was singing some crazy song, dancing around the living room, and yelled that she just added a sticker to her new chart because she peed in the potty today at the sitters. (woohoo!) as i sat down to write, the snow was still falling outside and i couldn't help but think about the little ones in my classroom today who were overly excited about this precipitation. although i am still not pumped about it, i definitely gained some perspective on the account of a bunch of five year olds and their (awesome) behavior today. before i put ella to bed, she hopped up in the bay window and yelled, "LOOK MOMMY! LOOK AT THE SNOW!" and suddenly my day came full circle. moreover, i won't be borrowing my husband's flowered hawaiian shirt or telling anyone to hang ten anytime soon with this weather...but i hope i can try to live in the moment more often. i plan on channeling my inner child until spring weather arrives, maybe you should, too, if you want to be less miserable. hey, i can even mail you a mini magnifying glass for good measure...or maybe a fresh pack of markers.

reality

so i've been busy as a ballsack in a brothel lately. seriously, i don't know my ass from my elbow at this point in the game, but really...what else is new? you know you are getting older when you prefer weekends without plans, rather than weekends with lotsa shit to do. however, i'd be lying if i said i wasn't overly excited for this past weekend that we spent outta town, because it was crazy fun. however, this pocono trip had been planned for months because we needed overnight sitters and shit...so much for being spontaneous anymore. when you are a parent you need your life laid out a month or two in advance so that you have all your ducks in a row in regards to your children. anyway, my own parents took the reigns and i promised myself one thing...that i wouldn't wipe anyone's ass but my own all weekend. (i succeeded.) at one point one of my friends randomly said, "don't you miss them?" (meaning my kids.) i said, "of course i do! i missed them the second i walked out the door...but i damn well don't miss wiping butts, bathing them, worrying about meals, constant care and all that other bullshit." he's newly married and i just shook my head thinking..."just you wait til you knock up your new bride buddy, shit's going to change drastically." (and i can't wait for another friend to bite the dust.) instead of getting into all that nonsense, we shared a shot of fireball and went about the weekend. (well done.)

even though i had an epic time with old friends, i came back to a house that was neglected all weekend. i didn't clean, didn't do laundry, didn't grocery shop, didn't get the stuff ready for the sitter for the week. didn't do stuff i normally have to get done. so there i sat on sunday evening hating everything...and then it started to snow. sweet mother of god i've never been so happy to see precipitation. needless to say, the snow gave me another day...and then butch and i decided to go downtown for st. patrick's day, to ultimately delay the inevitable. (the adult stuff mentioned above that needed to get done.) when i went back to work on tuesday, i almost asked ella to borrow this outfit to wear:

i felt like i needed protection from the real world. (swimming apparatus and a coke box helmet would do just fine.) i don't know about you all, but the older i get the harder it is to recover after a wild weekend of whooping it up. i'm talking days to recover. i'm talking i may feel like a normal human by thursday. gone are the days of being 21 and rolling out of bed all ready to do it again. (and again.) i guess it also didn't help that carrie decided to keep us up all monday night for no apparent reason as well. i asked butch in bed at one point (when she was kicking him in the nuts and elbowing me in my left breast), "why."...he just said, "i think she hates us." (maybe he's right?) in her one year old brain maybe she was plotting this all along..."i will punish you for your pocono plunders, people! no sleep for you!" okay, so maybe she wasn't thinking that...but it's kinda funny to believe she did. i also must add that the above picture of ella was just taken on a random day. living with two little girls is like living on the set of a broadway musical. there are constant wardrobe changes, costumes, songs, dancing...and drama. (let's not forget about the drama.) carrie is also obsessed with shoes. she is always taking them off and on and switching them up...which is extra fun, because she lacks the motor skills to do it herself and she expects you to do it. (over and over again.)

so anyway, it's thursday and i'm still trying to locate my ass...legitimately confusing it with my elbow, but i'm glad i almost (barely) made it through the week. last night butch had to work late and when this happens i always get a little bit giddy. i don't get giddy because he won't be at the house...i get giddy because i won't have to make dinner. i let ronald mcdonald take the wheel for the kid's meals when he isn't home and i have no shame in doing so. i mean, it happens like twice a month so i don't feel so bad about it. however, last night i said to ella (who was singing in the backseat), "what do you want from mcdonalds?" she stopped her song and yelped, "WHAT!? i don't want that STUFF!!" (huh?) i said, "huh?" she replied, "it is not good for you! i want good stuff!" umm...what? you are THREE...mcdonalds should be a friggen delicacy to you, kid! anyway, i was equal parts proud and pissed off about that one. what three year old doesn't want nuggets? apparently mine. (what the hell.) meanwhile, carrie was grunting and shaking her head vigorously at the thought of the clown's food. i bartered and got them each a cheeseburger and cut up some strawberries at home. as ella eyeballed me from the backseat i felt a bit bad, but then quickly got over it when i later changed her diaper for the 2345th time in her life. twice out of the month you will get a fast food cheeseburger in exchange for shitting your pants. (suck it up, sister.)

so piggy backing on the poop, the last thing i have to ramble on about is how this potty training shit is going in our house. last week sometime, i started a "sticker chart" as an incentive. i drew it up on a piece of paper (in true teacher style) and got some sesame street stickers from the dollar store. i sat ella down and told her that if she peed or pooped on the potty, she would earn a sticker for the chart. after she got 10 stickers...she would earn a trip to chuck e cheese. in my head, this sounded like an awesome plan. however, the kid is no dummy and was fast outta the gates. she peed three times the first day and i was seriously like, "what the dick was i thinking!?" i hate that place! why didn't i make it (a little) less attainable...or make the prize like a trip to to the dollar tree for a toy or something. (idiot.) however, with all the traveling business we had going on this weekend, she only went a couple more times on the potty and is now stalled at sticker number 7. i fully expect her to finish up 3 more poops or pees, just in time for the weekend. (chuck e cheese on a saturday! yes!...said no parent ever.)

the kicker is my youngest brother (who is 20 years old and still in college), just texted yesterday to say he is on spring break and wants to visit. this is the same brother that when i was younger, my other sibling and i told him that his real name was daisy. (his name is not daisy.) went went along with this for a while, until one day he got hysterical about it and cried that he hated that his name was daisy. (my parents ripped us a new one about this hoax, as we tormented him daily.) i'm tempted to throw him like fifty bucks and send him into chuck e cheese with my two kids...while my husband and i stroll down the street to the buffalo wild wings next door and grab a beer. this may be frowned upon by some people, but i think it's an excellent idea. (have fun, uncle daisy!) the way i see it, hanging out with two toddlers for an afternoon within the confines of an arcade that includes screaming kids, lotsa noise, and a creepy costumed mouse is and excellent deterrent for unprotected sex for a young college age lad such as him. (dontcha think?)

i'm just hoping that after this low key weekend i can start next week off on the right foot, mainly so i don't feel the need to wear little mermaid life saving devices and soda boxes on my head in order to survive. in theory, mini vacations away from your everyday monontony seem enticing and excellent...but in reality they will leave you scrambling to get your shit together and searching for your own ass the rest of the week. in closing, just to be clear...ten years ago at this time (just like my younger brother), i was celebrating spring break at the beach with beer in hand...this weekend i will be celebrating ten strategically placed poops and pees in the potty at my local children's arcade. it feels like i blinked and i went from college student to chuck e cheese faster than you can say conception. as stated many times before, i wouldn't want it any other way...except maybe minus that creepy costumed mouse. he's a day ruiner for any adult involved. even uncle daisy.

puke

i don't know if you have ever been vomited on by another human being, but i can tell you it's a very humbling experience. i don't care if it's a friend, a family member, a person at a frat party who had too much jungle juice...or your first born, it sucks any way you slice it. if you happen to add that your first born was also simultaneously taking a dump while doing so...it is even more fun. (and by fun i mean totally not fun.) last night i was folding laundry downstairs when i heard ella crying at the top of the steps. my husband does bath duty most nights, so i waited a minute before i ran toward the screams. when it didn't stop, i yelled, "WHAT IS SHE CRYING ABOUT!?" butch yelled back, "i think she's CONSTIPATED...she was hiding in her princess tent and told me that she was trying to poop, but said IT wouldn't come OUT!" (excuse me, but when did the princess tent become a porta potty!?) he also added that he (conveniently) had carrie in the tub and couldn't do anything to help her in that moment. even though i wanted to run out the front door like my hair was on fire, i reluctantly ran up the steps towards the screams instead. typically, a normal person wants to run away from screaming...when you are a mother, you are constantly running towards it. (things they don't tell you in the parenting books #234.)

anyway, when i reached the top of the steps ella was standing there holding her head down, crying, and looking quite pitiful. i said over the screams, "what is going on here?" she looked up at me and whined, "i went in the pwincess tent for pwivacy...but my poop will not come OUUUUUTTTT." aside from wanting to punch myself in the face in that moment, i felt really bad for her. being constipated sucks. i bet it sucks even more when you still take shits in your pants. can you imagine being all bound up and trying to drop one in your diaper? (brutal.) so i said, "listen, i know you are kinda scared of the potty, but i think it would help your poop come out if you sat on there instead. i'll hold you up. okay?" (toddler negotiations 101...talking her down from the ledge.) she initially lost her shit on me and told me she was, "NOT going to go on THAT POTTY WITE NOW!!!!" but then i think the painful impending bowel movement got the best of her...cause she gave in. now let me paint a picture here...i was still sweaty and in my gym clothes and we had just finished dinner. butch passed me in the hallway with a naked one year old, wrapped in a towel and fresh out of the tub. ella and i walked into the bathroom and she was whimpering. i put her up on the potty and kinda bear hugged her, held her up, and told her it would be okay.

despite my efforts, she went into full panic mode about the poop not coming out and she lost. her. mind. she was screaming directly in my right ear and i was trying to soothe her the best i could. again, she was sitting on the TOILET. (i was hugging my toddler on the toilet.) i could see the turd start to emerge and then suddenly (and violently)...she vomited all over my shoulder and down my shirt. i guess the force of the vomit unleashed the log, but she continued to scream. she then realized what she did and yelled, "OH MOMMY! I SPIT UP ALL OVER YOU!" spit up? no. this is not spit up. spit up is what nursing newborns do. you are a person that walks around now and drinks more than milk. what you did was PUKE the entire contents of your STOMACH on (and down) my shirt. so don't tell me this is spit up, sister...cause it's not. ok, i didn't say all that, instead i told her it was alright and i started pulling chunks out of my sports bra. (so sick.) she was still pretty worked up and then decided to also throw up her dessert. this time, she leaned forward and puked through her legs and made it directly into the toilet. hell, i wish i perfected that move in college. no need to stand up and turn around when you get the spins. (well done, ella!) so in the wake of all this, carrie walked in wearing her jammies and was just looking at us, just taking it all in...she was reminiscent of a crime scene investigator. (just missing the notepad.) and then in walked butch. i shit you not, if i had a photo of his face when he first saw us, i'd be a very rich woman. (woulda been a priceless picture.)

there i was on my knees in front of my daughter, covered in vomit that was not my own...ella was on the commode also covered  in puke, with a ginormous floater in the toilet. butch turned into the bathroom, looked at us and said, "what is happening in here? seriously, what the hell is happening." he looked absolutely bewildered and really didn't know what to do. i said, "can you please get me a towel or something?!" he got two towels, threw them at me, and then retreated into the bedroom. i took off my shirt and stripped off ella's, just as she looked up to me and said (through tears), "mommy, aren't you so pwoud of me??" (am i what?) i said, "proud of you for what, honey?" she replied, "for POOPIN' ON THE POTTY, MOMMY?!" (oh, that. sorry i missed the moment because of the MASSIVE AMOUNT OF PUKE!) i took a deep breath, "yes, of course i am! your first time pooping on the potty!" i added that not every time she poops on the potty is going to hurt that bad. she went on, "yeah, my poop is sometimes soft, but this time it was weally, weally hard." (talking about poop textures with my three year old who is now in the tub. awesome.) i felt like we needed to discuss this, though, cause i didn't want her to be even more traumatized every time she has to poop on the potty. (she probably will be, anyways.) so after a bath and fresh jammies, i took her downstairs...she was still kinda in shock and wanted to be held. during her show, carrie removed her own pants and diaper and was walking around bottomless. (par for the course.)

ironically, earlier that night while at the gym...a girl (who i thought was around my age) hopped on a treadmill that was in the row in front of me. upon first glance, i thought her shirt said, "senior week 2000!" i thought to myself, "woah! that's when i went to senior week. she's as old as me!" my bubble was quickly burst though when i realized it didn't say "2000" it said "2010" (i was only 10 years off.) this girl was in second grade when i graduated. (awesome.) later i also heard two young chickadees in the locker room talking about how they are "graduating in 3 months!" and how "great it's going to be!" i wanted to grab them by their blonde and brunette hair and bash their heads together and say, "you have NO IDEA what you are in store for, sisters!" i only wish i had that photo to show them of butch walking around the corner into the bathroom and seeing me in the middle of the constipation chaos. i bet that would've made them change their tune. (he looked HORRIFIED.) so after an, "oh my god i'm old as shit" moment at the gym...i came home to an "oh my god my toddler can't shit" moment at home. motherhood includes a plethora of wonderful moments, but if hard poops and pulling chunks of vomit out of your sports bra isn't for you...you may want to reconsider. i mentioned in a previous post that potty training was going to kill me. now that we have added constipation and vomit into the mix...i'm about half way there. if someone sees me fleeing out of my front door like my hair is on fire...please kindly stop me and hand me a solo cup of jungle juice. i promise not to puke on you.

game

there is one night of the week that i look forward to more than the others...and that is ladies night. typically, my friend fen and i just get a bottle (box) of wine and sit in her living room with grey's anatomy as background noise. however, this week she informed me that she bought a groupon back in october for a local mexican place and it expired yesterday so she "had" to use it. this was the perfect excuse for me to use with warren, because god forbid some one's groupon expire...the blasphemy! i knew damn well i wouldn't get any flack from him due to the dire nature of this plight. so i put the kids to bed, showered, put on a sparkly shirt and out we went. whenever i leave the house without my children in tow, it feels like i'm escaping an insane asylum. i always hop in the car and look over my shoulder to make sure no one is following me. i mentioned this to butch one time and he told me that he feels the same way. kids are crazy...and they make your life crazy. getting out once a week without them (if even for a few hours) is so necessary. anyway, we went to the cantina and had to wait a while for a seat...apparently there were many other people with impending expired groupons. there was an eclectic cast of characters around us, so fen and i fit right in. we ordered a round of margaritas and got busy shoveling chips and guac into our chops, while talking about the nonsense going on in our lives. (free therapy.)

let me just say that the margaritas at this place are lethal. the first couple of sips taste like battery acid and after that your mouth and tongue go numb, so you don't really taste anything at all. they are comparable to breasts in that one is not enough...but three is too many. when you drink the first one, you think you are good to go to the second...but if you have a third you are surely going to wake up in a back alley wrapped in a carpet remnant and covered in your own vomit. (no joke.) so as we finished up our first, i told her that i had a big day at school tomorrow and i had to bring my A game. to which she replied, "listen, i already know i am bringing my B minus game tomorrow to work...and you are going to do the same." (i love that line.) the main reason i had to act right was we had a big wedding for the kindergartners planned...and i was the bride. my creative (and crazy) coworkers and i came up with a whole unit for the letter "Q" this week. within this unit, princess Q and prince U get united in holy matrimony...to make words together for all of eternity. all week we prepped the kids and sent out formal invitations to the big event on friday. saying that the students were excited for "the big day" is an understatement. the buzz in our classrooms about this was palpable. therefore, i couldn't show up all fuzzy for this exquisite wedding because it would not go well. we had a ceremony, presents, cupcakes, snacks, and dancing at the reception. the other kindergarten teacher (fresh outta college) dressed as the groom, our principal was the officiant, and let me tell you that it was a whole lotta fun.

so i spent the entire morning wearing a prom dress and veil and then had to change out of it at lunch... into a penn state hoodie for a pep rally in the afternoon. sometimes being a kindergarten teacher is like being a clown. i mean, what other job do you get dressed up weekly and then perform for a bunch of 5 year olds? furthermore, early friday morning i was standing in the main office having a serious conversation with a parent about her child's report card. she said nothing about the fact that i was adorned in costume jewelry and a large painted purple letter Q around my neck. however, at the end of the conversation she took a double take at my getup and said, "my son is really excited about the wedding today...thank you for all you do. you make everything so much fun for them." (haha! you're welcome.) so in the wake of a wacky start to the week, it ended just as weird. i do know for sure that our kindergarten students will not forget that the letters Q & U are always together. seeing their smiling faces during the faux wedding was totally worth it. also, i have no idea what is going on with my face in that picture...it looks like i had one too many margaritas. the truth is, i was just as excited as the kids for our big event. moreover, i'd rather be totally ridiculous than totally boring any day of the week. whether you are bringing your A game or your B minus game in this life, go big or go home. it's too short to live it any other way. however, you may not want to have that third margarita because you might end up in a back alley wrapped in a carpet remnant...and that's not good for anyone involved.