I have a New Mantra

One of my friends said, "You are a little bit sasstastic."  I'm not sure what that means but I take anything this woman says very seriously because she is fantastic!  I mean it's not everyone who can go to law school at night, take care of their toddler during the day, have another baby, clerk for a state supreme court justice and study for and pass the bar while pregnant with their third child and end up as one of the two valedictorians. (Can you tell that this woman impresses me immensely?  Well, to be honest, she also makes me want to take a nap.)

Wrapping dad around her little Finger

A friend of mind told me that there is something about girls and their fathers.  Well, he actually said … And I quote, “my boys, they can drive any old beater car around but for G… I’ll probably need to buy her a pink car.”

I had found a super attractive, almost “antique” car for Bri to drive for the attractive price of $1,000.  My husband asked, “What does Bri think of it?”

I said, “I don’t care.  It’s $1,000.”

My husband responded, “Bri wants a Bug.” 

I said, “This car costs $1,000, what is not to like?”

And so, he bought her a bug that cost a bit more. 

… *Sucka!

*Ok, I don’t really mean that because he is super sweet (nicer than me).  I just didn’t care that the car was not attractive because I never planned to drive it!

Going through the dewrinkle cycle

I went to a Mary Kay Party last week and in a fit of madness bought a $30 anti-aging serum. 

I’m getting old.  I do not have “old man neck”* like my husband yet (well, possibly I do … but you can’t see it possibly because one of my thirteen chins hide it) but the neck is coming.

The consultant was really concerned that she didn’t have the anti-aging de-wrinkler in stock and gave me a mini-sample to hold me until the slightly bigger jar appeared.  I told her I could wait as I had lived without the anti-aging serum for 41 years.

I put it on two days ago and got a zit by my eyebrow the next morning but that is not the reason why I have not put more on.  (I would have to get at least 3 more zits before I would link the two events.) 

I forgot.  Having the little bottle right on my bathroom counter does not remind me.  I will probably have to tape the little bottle to my wrist. 

Unfortunately, I’m beginning to suspect that this serum, like my foray into Weight Watcher territory, might not work if I only pay the money but do not follow the instructions.

*You may call it “old woman neck” if you wish because I am an equal opportunities offender

And in one of my more brilliant moments

Today I realized I was wearing a nursing top.  Despite the facts that: 1.) My youngest child is ten. 2.)  I’ve owned it for four weeks.

I’ve decided that:  1.) This shirt makes a. lot. more. sense now!  And  2.)  I’m going to wear it anyway.

Costa Rica

My husband and I flew to Costa Rica for a work thing. I am his plus one. Basically that means that right now while he is at a work meeting I am sitting by the pool under an umbrella and if I want a drink ... There is a waiter three feet away. Because it is a work thing I am ordering room service every morning. Because I love room service and I never get it. In my next life I want to have room service every other morning. (I just tried to post the picture of my breakfast but it didn't work ... Probably because I am technically challenged.) Tomorrow we are going deep sea fishing and Friday we are going on a zip line canopy tour. This trip is of course, all due to my sister-in-law Dawn who flew out to take care of my kids. Everyone was delighted about that (except one of my kids who would have been able to be their dad's plus one).

Will Hates Voting

This is actually two posts, but I never posted the first and now it's not.

Living in a House of Illness for Two Weeks

Doesn’t that make you want to come over for dinner?  Ok, I’ll plan on Thursday then.

It started about three weeks ago.  I went in Lizzy’s room to wake her up.  She informed me that she wasn’t going to school because she threw up during the night.  The poor girl stayed home until Friday.  On Saturday Will threw up once.  I thought he was better so I sent him to school on Monday.  I felt bad when his school called and said he had a temperature of 100’.  I picked him up.  On Tuesday, Lizzy’s flute teacher got sick and threw up in the middle of Lizzy’s lesson at our house so I drove her teacher home and picked up the flute teacher’s husband from the train station.  On Wednesday Will went back to school.  But Bri stayed home.  And Jacob stayed home on Thursday.  Friday was a school holiday – which was just as well.

William hates Voting -- Probably Because He’s Unpatriotic

The Tuesday that Will was home because he had a fever on Monday I took him on my errands to get him out of the house.  We first went to the local library (That’s what they say on PBS so that’s what Will says.)  I made Will go upstairs with me first so I could look for a book before we went downstairs to the important Dr. Suess containing part.  I wasted his compliant time looking for a movie to watch and he was impatient during my “look for a book time.”  There was some pinching and yelling.  But since the library does not specifically ban yelling but rather focuses on whispering I figure that it was fine.

Will was in a delightful mood by the time we arrived at the elementary school to vote.  I got my ballot and walked over to the booth to mark it.  I glanced at Will in the next booth who was busily marking up the example ballot directions hanging on the wall of the booth.  (He also may or may not have written his name) I tried to stop him but he really wanted to fill in the empty ovals.  I was a little flustered and finished as quickly as I could.  I had Will in one hand and my ballot in the other and stopped at the desk to have me marked down as having voted.  

Will was completely done by this point and started to pinch me.  I used my modified Karate Kid Wax Off move to block him, paired with a “Quiet Hands” instruction.  Something I’ve frequently done in the past but this time it went horribly wrong!  Probably because I was still looking at the people sitting at the desk.  When I twisted my arm away from Will’s talons and brought my elbow around and down, my hand followed and my thumb hit Will forehead.  Usually that would not be a problem … however, this particular day happened to be one of the approximately 17 days per year that I haven’t ripped off my fingernails thus I had something resembling girl fingernails; and my thumb nailed Will in the forehead.  And there was a little blood and there was some crying and there was some apologizing and there was some more pinching.  And I had just told the people at the desk my name and address.  I slunk out of the elementary school pulling my crying 12 year-old behind me and waited for DCF to appear at my door.

But they never came.  I can only assume that someone recognized the Karate Kid Wax Off move as a purely defensive maneuver.  

Taking some personal days (Let’s just pretend I posted this in March when I actually wrote it)

One of the hardest things about being a stay at home mother besides the dismal pay and the things you have to clean up is the lack of sick and personal days.  Well, I stuck it to THE MAN*  last week!  I took some personal days in spite of him.  The lack of complaining from THE MAN and the suggestion of leaving for two extra days could have made my act of “sticking it to THE MAN” less satisfying but somehow it wasn’t.  (Ha! Take that THE MAN!  I still win!)

I went to visit my family in Utah sans kids.  Heaven, I tell you.  Although strangely enough I missed THE MAN and texted him so perhaps I am a glutton for punishment.

It was a very different vacation than I am used to for example:  1.  I was not pinched once while on an airplane.  2.  No one asked me to repeat their words back to them over and over again.  3.  I didn’t write one social story the whole time I was gone.  4.  I didn’t take anyone else to the bathroom … ever.

And I did adult things.  I went out to eat with my siblings and their spouses and we went to a play.

(*THE MAN in this case being my husband.)

Getting Old Sucks

Apparently I have entered the non-stop injury portion of my life.  I barely stopped going to PT for my sport’s injury (because I’m such an athlete) quadricep tendonitis when I mysteriously injured my back in the middle of the day.  By the end of the day I could barely move without pain.  I called Lizzy into my room that night.  “Help me put on my pants.”  I asked her.

“Wa?”  Lizzy looked at me in confusion but gamely helped me when she realized I was serious.  The next morning I still felt bad but not as bad as the night before so I quickly took a shower.  I didn’t want to be in a position of asking my ten year old to help me put in my underwear!

Being Bullied as a 41 year old

At first I loved going to physical therapy.  I’d lie down on a table and have my knee massaged and ultrasounded (just pretend that word actually exists).  Then things slowly started to change.  At first it was a “just try this exercise” or “ride the exercise bike for 3 minutes on 0 resistance.”  I made excuses for Deb.  “She’s pregnant.”  “She’s probably tired.”  “Give her time,” I thought. 

But slowly it got worse.  I found it much hard to excuse the bridges she wanted me to do.  30!  20 of them with crossed legs!  Last week she asked me to do step-ups!  Step-ups, you might remember, is what caused my quadriceps tendonitis in the first place!  Did she care about me at all?

Finally I’d had enough!  “You’re a bully!”  I stated.

Surprised, she looked at me.  (Probably trying to gaslight me into thinking she’d never heard that before.)  “Are bullies positive and affirming?”  She asked.

“Ok,” I conceded.  “You’re a nice bully.”

She’s probably going to miss me a lot when I stop going to PT.

Stealing a Defective Pen

*Disclaimer:  I realize that this post won’t make you want to be my best friend but I’m posting it anyway because anything worth having (in this case my friendship) is hard (in this case hard = the fear that I’m going to steal a pen from you … because I might!)

I purposely steal a pen from my son’s dentist’s office every time I bring him.  I steal one from the jar of pens on the counter.  I take it because they don’t take my perfectly good Blue Cross Insurance from California.  They only take Blue Cross from Massachusetts because it must be better.  So, I pay extra out of pocket.  We’ll just call that the autism premium.

Every time I steal a pen I am pathetically attempting to punch The Man (in this case he is more often referred to as a dentist … or a woman).  Because The Man cares if I steal a pen because He counts them and one of these days He’ll need one of the pens that I‘ve stolen at a rate of two per year and IT WON’T BE THERE!  AND HE WILL CRY … A LOT!

And IT WILL BE AWESOME!!!! (Or at least if would if I could see it.  But I won’t be there so I will just imagine it in my head.)

Perhaps the dentist realized through the strategic placement of hidden cameras that I steal a pen every time I bring Will in.  Perhaps that defective pen was intentionally placed!   Perhaps The Man is retaliating?  If so … well played sir.  And I will have to switch up my game.  Perhaps TWO pens next time.  I guess I’ll find out in six months.

Oh, the anticipation!  

Another Awkward Conversation I had with Myself

This morning as I was listening to the radio on the way home from dropping Will off at school I listened to a NPR segment on Martin Luther King Jr. and thought wouldn’t that be fantastic to meet him!

But what would I say?  Because surely it wouldn’t be awkward at all to have some random white woman come up to you and say something about how wonderful you are, what a difference you made in the world, that her kids love you and eventually you’ll have a national holiday but only after you are murdered.  I’d imagine different emotions showing on his face starting with creeper and ending with how sad to have a mental illness.

I decided that I couldn’t have a conversation with him at all because I’d either wreak the space time continuum or freak him out so much that he’d run away from me.

So, I finally decided that it would be best if I’d just shook his hand and tried to keep my mouth shut.

….

Please tell me that other people have these kinds of conversations with themselves.

Bose should pretty much just hire me

Since Bose’s SoundLink was my idea in the first place. A couple of years ago I asked my friend who works at Bose (He’s technically my husband’s third or fourth cousin but they didn’t know each other existed until we both moved three quarters the across the country and ended up in the same town. Crazy right? Wait … it gets crazier because there is another guy who moved here years ago who also is a distant cousin – seventh- and ended up in the same town as well! … hum, perhaps I should take credit for that as well.) 

Anyway, I asked my third or fourth cousin-in-law Clark if Bose made any kind of speaker I could hook up Will’s iPad too because I was worried about Will going deaf or something. Bose didn’t.

 Flash forward to a couple months ago. Clark gives us a beautifully wrapped present. It’s a SoundLink. He said that he’d worked on it for a year.

“Bose, You’re welcome.”

I’m not going to confirm my question being the genesis of the speaker because I’m sure of it in my head.

Mother Meltdowns

Some studies show that married, childless by choice couples are happiest of all.  Ok, I can see that …  sometimes.  When I called someone (who shall remain nameless because I can’t resist typing up what she said) to complain about my children not doing anything they are suppose to, she commiserated with me.  “I’ve heard that children make you happier.”  I said, “but I don’t buy it.”

She agreed, “I bought that crap five times!”  And 40 minutes later we both felt better.

I came home and told my husband I wasn’t going to make dinner again for two weeks.  “What about Will?”  He asked. 

“Oh, I’ll make dinner for him, you and me.”  I said.  “How long will it be until the kids notice?”  I asked.

We made a bet but I think the bet is moot now because I sprained my knee while doing step ups at the gym on Friday and have been either in bed or on crutches since and I think my kids will attribute the lack of food to my injury rather than a consequence to their mother’s possible meltdown.

Thanksgiving and the Next Day

On Thanksgiving we had thirteen people over for dinner then we played games.  We played Agricola and now my friend Raskell is addicted to it.   “You’re welcome Raskell!”  (Really I’m just excited that someone else wants to play it with me.)  We are so much fun that some of our friends didn’t leave until midnight.  (Not that I blame them of course!  Reason 1:  I’m fantastic, Reason 2: Agricola is fantastic.)

Then Bri and I decided to go shopping Friday morning.  I set my alarm for 7.  I was tired but got up.  Selfishly I love the whole open at midnight thing (not really I think people should be able to spend Thanksgiving day and now the night with their families) because other people can wait in line and go crazy and Bri and I can show up at Target at 7:45am, get everything I want except a $15 handheld mixer thing and have to cashiers ready to ring us up.  Then we went to Old Navy where again the line wasn’t too long and then we went to Kohl’s.  Bri found a wonderful present for me to buy for my husband.  I cannot mention what it was because he reads my blog but it is fantastic and he really wants it (or at least he will once he gets it!).  Bri said she gets to use it while he is travelling.  Then we went to Payless because Bri couldn’t find any shoes at Kohl’s or Target.   I spent a frightening amount of money. Hmmm … oh well.

When we came home everyone else, except William because he was busy watching TV, was cleaning out the garage because a possum had been living there because the cat who sleeps in the garage apparently took out an ad for a roommate.  I explained to the cat that she is not allowed to get roommates, sublet or have loud parties in the garage!  She looked at me and walked away.  I decided to take that as agreement.

Sadly my kids had asked me if they could spend Friday not cleaning and I agreed forgetting that I had already agreed with their father that we would spend the day raking and/or cleaning out the garage.

Sad Face.

So when I got home I started blowing and raking up the five inches of pine needles that covered up my back yard.  We had already filled up 27 leaf bags so we were forced to take the additional 20? bags of pine needles and  dump them in our back, back yard behind our fence.  Hopefully we never decide to use that land for anything because it is 3 feet higher than it was when we moved in and I really really don’t want to bag that many leaves and needles.

I was raking so vigorously that I didn’t notice a blister the size of a grapefruit form on the bottom of the inside of my thumb until it popped.  (FYI: popped blisters sting when you do dishes.)  I mentioned to my husband that I probably have another ten hours of raking to do and he helpfully suggested that I have time next week when our children are in school.  So considerate, my husband.

My back and shoulders are quite sore. 

Instant Messaging Marcy

I posted "the only good thing about accidentally kicking the wall was that the ensuing toe pain distracted me from my headache" on facebook.

Marci asked, "What happened?"

I answered with the obvious, "Sheer unadulterated talent."

At which point she suspected possible impairment (which in my case can only be sleep deprivation because I am a puritan) and she instant messaged me, "seriously, what did you do?"

walked out of the bathroom

I killed the electric pencil sharpener, how is that for talent?

that's awesome someone should pay you for that

how much do you think I could charge to go around and randomly kill small electric appliances?

I don't know but I'll ask my husband to write you a business plan

you do that and let me know when he stops laughing.

come on ... surely someone would pay for that

And that my friends is why I love Marcy.

... because she dangerous.

My loveliest Birthday Card!

The card came in the mail two days before my birthday because my friend loves sending cards and notes.  I lack in the card and note giving but I assume my friends and family forgive me because I’m charming, um … witty scattered.

An excerpt reads, “I marvel at the way you’ve taken life’s challenges, swallowed hard, and done your best.”

It’s not true … but I love the sentiment.

A couple of people wished me a happy 29th birthday except for one over achiever who chose 27th

But I’ve earned 41 years and I claim them all.  And since I have a 15 year-old I’d rather be significantly older than 29!

I got the loveliest birthday card from Elizabeth.  It said, “First of all don’t open this card.  Second of all you’re the best mom in the world.  Third of all you can open this card.”

I did … and homemade confetti hearts fell out.  And a clue to a scavenger hunt.

My kids think that scavenger hunts are THE. FUNNEST. THING. EVER.  So often I will see them figuring out clues and running around the house.  My scavenger hunt was about fourteen clues long.  And at the end was my gift.

In Elizabeth’s painted wooden treasure box was a paper heart with William’s name on it.  One with Brianne’s, dad’s, Jacob’s, Lizzy’s, a Lizzy heart balloon and a paper “I heart You.”  It also included three chocolates, a sucker, a Hersey’s Kiss, bottle caps (because I know you love them) and a dollar bill.

It is seriously the best birthday gift I’ve ever gotten.

And Brianne made me a cake.

I walked into the kitchen in the middle of it and was promptly sent out with protestations of ruining surprises and being a stinker and at least you don’t know what flavor it is.  When I smelled burning I opened the oven and saw that Bri had decided to bake me a heart birthday cake.  Adorable.  Unfortunately the heart pan is smaller than a 9x13 inch pan and she had poured all the cake batter into it.  Cake batter had overflowed and was burning on the bottom of the oven.  I put a pan under the cake and shut the oven.

My cake ended up being cake balls.

I stuck a candle in one of them, lit it and let William blow it out.  (Because it is a tradition in our family for William to help everyone blow out their birthday candles because it makes him so happy!)

Our church choir sang Happy Birthday to me.

And Marcy and Cheryl took me out for a birthday lunch.  Yummy!

I decided I’m an honorary Jew

As least I was today because I bought two loaves of challah AND took it to a synagogue … see, honorary Jew.  Dave’s Bar Mitzvah is Saturday and I’m trying to help Marcy as much as possible.  Helping Marcy generally means driving around with her and shopping or quickly driving to Macy’s to give her my opinion on a dress.

I am awesome.  (And available to drive around quite frequently.)

Oooo, spooky!

My friend Alycia’s phone called me twice yesterday.  When I called her back Alycia said that the actual caller was her phone.  I replied that her phone probably just missed me.

Upon reflection … I decided her phone was haunted.

I decided never to get on her phone’s bad side.

Because I’m chicken, uh smart!

Dating … it’s come to that

My husband called me while he was driving back from wherever he was this week.  No, I rarely know what state and/or states he is planning on being in during a given week.  It’s something that happens when your spouse travels a lot.  You stop paying attention caring.

Anyway he called to ask me if I was busy tonight because he wanted to go on a date.  He missed me because I’m fantastic.  {Well, he has to think so because I slipped a legal clause into our marriage contract.  I plan for contingencies (if not for camping).}  He asked if I wanted to go out.

I said, “No,” because I have to finish my possibly 40 minute thing for a church training program tomorrow morning. (He did not put a non-procrastination clause into our marriage contract.)  We discussed watching a movie.  Then I said, “Yes, I do want to go out.  I need cat food and milk and bread.”

We are going to BJs for a date night.  And it was my idea … I suspect it’s a good thing that legally he is required to think I’m fantastic .