My apologies to Ms. M's Kindergarten class

As the parent of a kindergartener, I get a lot of "reminders" in my daughter's princess backpack. We received slips of paper in bright colors that said "Don't forget to wear a Hawaiian shirt on Friday for the Rick Charette concert" and "Don't forget to dress comfortably for our Karate assembly next week (including the times of the assemblies assigned by grade)". We also received the annual picture day money envelope. Surprised there was no accompanying info, I did the research and went online to the school calendar to see what day would be picture day. And then I promptly forgot all about it. No brightly colored reminder slips were sent home. It wasn't included on the class "Week in Review" newsletter that includes what to look forward to in the upcoming week. But I rely on those reminders, centrally displayed on my refrigerator. My memory isn't what it used to be. I can remember every detail of my childhood, but something from last week? Forget it.

So, Tuesday morning rolled around - the second day of my husband's new job - and we had our typical cyclone of a morning trying to get Katie dressed and out of the house. MULTIPLE outfits were wripped off and strewn throughout the house. They all itched. They all bothered her. Didn't matter if it was her favorite shirt or a brand new one with no tags. So it was a compromise kind of morning. Wear what you want - as long as you're dressed.

Katie finally settled on this shirt:

Ok, not awful. We'll pretend it's not 55 degrees outside. You want to wear it with THIS skirt?:

FINE! At this point, I even turned a blind eye to the Dora crocs.

Tuesday evening, we talked abut Katie's day. While she was telling me her requisite 3 things that happened in kindergarten class that day, she gushed about getting to have her picture taken....

WH WH WH WHAAAAT?!?!

She kept gushing. She was so excited that everybody got really dressed up in fancy clothes. She assured me that everyone thought her outfit was so pretty. She got to take a picture by herself AND with her whole class.

Parent FAIL! 

Some time ago, I read this post  over at Classy Chaos and giggled. I thought, "oh, poor Pauline," but also how cute her youngest  looked. People, it's no joke. And yes, I got retakes done the next day. And yes, even if I didn't, the pictures are only of the chest up. I know her shirt was fine, but I'm thinking of her class picture, here: A snapshot of her first year as an official elementary schoolgoer. And I think to myself - THIS is just another reason why God has given this 5'1" momma an amazon-bred child. So that she will be the tallest in her class; she will be on the top riser for her class picture. And hopefully, just maybe, her lower half will be hidden and history will not record this ensemble.

I am currently too much in the moment to think about how someday I'll look back and laugh at the picture, remembering how "spirited" she was. No, it will more likely rekindle post traumatic stress disorder symptoms - reminding me of the daily torture this child unleashes on me. (This child who I love very much and wouldn't trade for anything....except perhaps one that gets dressed by herself and doesn't flip out for 40 minutes every morning about her clothes bothering her.)

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Why I have smoke coming out of my ears

It's happened before. One of those days that everything that can go wrong WILL.It started shortly after I woke up this morning. I was finishing up picking up Katie's bedroom for today's house cleaning. My husband mumbled as he rushed past me down the steps on his way to the couch, "I have to lay down just a little bit longer. I'm so tired, but Katie peed all over the bed." Not such a big deal, you'd think, since most kids her age have mattress protectors, as does she. Except we had guests last night. So in order to clear out the guest room, which is usually inhabited by Sir Snoresalot, I slept in Katie's bed and she slept in the master bedroom with my husband. Have I mentioned that she's only ever peed the bed like 3 times before in her entire life?!?!?!? So I replied, well did you get her up? Of course not. She was soaked, the bed was soaked. I started the cleanup process, berated my husband, and zoomed out of the house to my early meeting.

As I got back to my desk from the morning meeting, I noticed an e-mail from our housecleaning company. "The dogs are running loose in the house. What should we do?" It was from 1 hr prior. I responded they could be let out back...hoping they could still get there to clean and we didn't have to go another 2 weeks living in filth. I e-mailed Chris to bitch, just a day after he left Katie's backpack (containing her homework) at home. He mentioned how bad HIS morning was. Including the fact that he got pulled over for having a brake light out, only to realize he didn't have his wallet with him.

I picked up the kids from daycare, which days later still puts me in a bad mood - ever since the new daycare provider told me, "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," after I stood by one of my parenting decisions. One that is none.of.her.freaking.business.

I got home to a clean house (thankyou God), only to have my cherubs break in to a box of donuts while I was checking our voicemail. Chocolate donuts that then got ground in ALL OVER our newly cleaned kitchen floor.

I opened the mail, excited to finally receive my Jamaica vacation documents. The vacation that I'm already pissed about since I found out the resort I booked at will be closed for renovations and we've been "upgraded" to a different resort. One lacking the huge waterpark we were looking forward to. The one that I couldn't cancel since we had bought an "airfare included" package. Which included nonrefundable airfare. The one that as I opened the mail today, found out that they only booked THREE airline seats for my family of FOUR. Something about Timmy being under two...which didn't even cross.my.mind when I entrusted them to create my dream vacation.

The dogs were in the back yard, barking INCESSANTLY. As I was outside summarily flipping my lid on them, my neighbor mentioned, "Oh, they were out running ALL over the neighborhood today. I let them back in the house for you." Really? Someone used our gate and didn't think it might be a (insert the fact that Timmy just came in to visit and SHUT DOWN my computer). Sorry. What I meant to say was that is it so hard to close a gate at a home where you know DOGS LIVE? This is not a new problem at our house.

So, I finally, after much screaming and silent prayer, managed to get the barking idots back in the house. Tracking mud. Everywhere. Why mud? The yard is dry. Oh, cause Katie was just out at the water table and tracked in water, which was then crossed over by the dirt pawed canines.

So I came up to the office to vent. The children were left to scream Mommy! watch Spongebob.

There's a large puddle of water on my pergo downstairs a la Katie's abandoned cup of water that was commandeered by her brother.

Timmy just pulled apart a lei in the office and I silently celebrated knowing that it would keep him busy for one more minute.

And there goes all the papers off my desk....

And yes asshole, I DO have my period!!!

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Yo, ho!

Don't be offended. If I happen to call you a ho or more likely, "hooker," it means I have the utmost love and respect for you. Just one of those little nuances in life. 

After college, I had the pleasure of living with my childhood friend C for three years. She was and is a very good girl. No drinking, no swearing, no funny business with the boys. And so, of course, our pet term for each other is "hooker." 

It still amazes me how, through life, we continue to meet new people who become near and dear to our hearts. Like a mother with a new child, my heart's openness to new friends is boundless. And I've been so lucky. Beyond my family, beyond my childhood and college friends, beyond my bloggy friends, I genuinely appreciate my mommy friends. Those friends that could be casual acquaintances or new BFF's, but for a conversation. 

With 18 month olds running around and trying to jump their way off equipment and into the ER (mine never actually hurt herself, but oh how she tried),  passing balls and balloons to one another, running side by side to pop bubbles. We met in preschool gymnastics. Casual smiles turned into conversation. The propensity for my daughter and one other particular little boy to be clumsy, wreckless, insane and crazy drew me and his mother to one another to simutaneously shake our heads, roll our eyes, and commiserate. Then there were a few others who were not afraid for their lives when around our two kids, and we started to meet at McDonald's or Friendly's before or after class. Then we started having playdates. And then girl's nights. And then, my generous friend M, suggested a few of us use her Vacation Club for a mommy getaway to DisneyWorld. It happened to be the same weekend as BlogHer '10, for which I already had a ticket and hotel room. And I'm sorry, my bloggy friends, for skipping out on meeting so many of you - but I just couldn't pass up a trip with these girls and our 5 year olds. These ladies who represent everything I value in a friend - honesty, reliability, compassion, generousity and fun. And our kids love each other like siblings.

And our trip WAS magical.

Katie actually wore her fabulous new outfits from 77kids. (In hindsite, I realize many readers may not realize why that is such a big deal, but suffice it to say that we have had SIGNIFICANT issues with Katie this summer regarding clothes. For weeks at a time, I washed the same outfit every night, to be worn every day. To my utter depression and turmoil as I fingered all of the lovely, unworn clothes in her closet.)

And she was so proud to pose in her new grunge, as we traveled over to a kids only Pirate Cruise at the Grand Floridian.

She even accepted a $10 souvenir bribe to wear one of my most favoritest Hanna Andersson sundress sets that she had never worn.

We treasured every moment of our trip.

s

We even happened to overlap our trip with my sister's family and had the ultimate experience of going on a Kim Possible mission with them in Epcot.

We swam and played.

The kids were thrilled to build their own cars at Downtown Disney.

And I got an amazing long weekend getaway with my girls, most notably my favorite girl.

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The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

Katie wanted to be a doctor when she grows up. A baby doctor. So she could help kids all the time. From about as early as we could understand her (which was at about 3), she was set on her career path. Last year, she was even a doctor for Halloween.

That all changed when Katie became more familiar with the world around her. And at 4 years old started to have anxiety about things like learning how to drive when she grows up. Quick witted like her mom, she came up with the solution that instead of being a doctor, she would be an "countant" like her mom. So she could drive with me to work every day and be with me every day.

She may have possibly also decided to change career paths due to a little conversation where she asked me how she would learn to be a doctor and I told her that in medical school she would get to cut open bodies and see what's inside of them. She wasn't a huge fan of that idea.

Lucky for Katie, being an accountant is a little less traumatic. And last month, she got a chance to come to work with me for a half day.

The other half of the day, we were busy doing this.

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I dreamed a dream of times gone by...

Back in the spring of my freshman year in college, I was still grasping at my love of music and theatre and was playing the role of Little Red Riding Hood in our school production of Into the Woods. That semester-along with playing on the girls’ soccer team, pledging a sorority, and getting mediocre grades- I was also working part-time for a local CPA firm. One day when I came back from my lunch break, which I had used for a theatre practice session, one of the senior managers laughed at me. He told me he had never heard of someone being interested in accounting AND theatre. That the combination just didn’t make sense and that I’d probably have to choose one over the other. After that semester, I hung up my acting and singing shoes in my quest to be the world’s best accountant.

Around the same time, two handfuls of students joined together at Indiana University to form an a cappella group. After graduation, they went their separate ways. Some continued in the industry by appearing in theatrical productions or wowing cruise ship passengers. Others turned to their field of study and began careers in the world of finance.

For a college reunion, they got together once more to perform. And someone uploaded a video of them singing to YouTube. And then they were approached with a record deal.

A few weeks ago I was given the opportunity to see their show at Harrah’s in Atlantic City. I had never heard of them, so I googled “Straight No Chaser.” I found their website at sncmusic.com and began listening to tracks. Not only was I an immediate fan, but I realized I HAD heard them before. I didn’t know their group name, but I was sure I had heard them sing Christmas songs in one of those holiday greeting e-mail forwards. I was lucky enough to be provided with tickets to see their show and I even got to pretend I was real press and interview the group after the show.

It’s quite unprofessional . Particularly since I was a little tipsy trying to rush the process as my camera battery was about to die. And also because I’m pretty new to the glamorous life of interviewing celebrities. After you're done making fun of my interview, please stop over at my Giveaway page to enter to win 2 tickets to see Straight No Chaser on July 30th at Harrah’s.

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Mission Complete

In regards to this post.....

it appears that my husband does love me. Very, very much.

He is miserable about it and not looking forward to it, but I have ascertained that at least he will not be divorcing me.

That being said, I think that all of our friends should reward him for his sacrifice by joining us on vacation. So he can make the most of the all-inclusive unlimited top-shelf liquor.

Give me a call or send me an e-mail and I'll let you know the dates...I'll even let you know how much it would cost for your family. With a spreadsheet if requested. Come on. You know you want to. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity. You'll love it. Please!

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Touche (with a little accent on the e)

A few weeks ago, Katie was intent on getting her way. Hmm, well I suppose I should specify, since Katie is ALWAYS intent on getting her way, that a few weeks ago a specific conversation took place.

K: Mom, I’m ready to go swimming.

M: Ok, in a minute.

K: Mom, I want to go swimming.

M: I know, just wait a minute.

K: I REALLY want to go swimming.

M: Ok.

K: Can we PLEASE go swimming?

M: I am busy right now. We WILL go swimming, but I just need you to be patient.

K: Can we go swimming?

It was as if she wasn’t listening to a word I was saying. Finally I had had enough and lashed out, “Katie, that’s ENOUGH! You will NOT get what you want sooner just because you keep asking. In fact, you’re driving me nuts. Don’t ask me again.” Which of course led to, “Can we go swimming now?”

Overhearing the entire dialogue, Chris muttered – “Hmm, I wonder where she learns that from? I wonder what could ever give her the idea that may work?”

Heh. Moi?

Oh, not because I have a history of giving in to her when she badgers me to the point of exhaustion. But, because I have a history of expecting that if I badger her father to the point of exhaustion – that he will eventually give in to me.

My current project: a vacation to the Boscobel Beaches resort in Ochos Rios, Jamaica.

1. Get it into my head that I want to go on vacation during a specific week – brought on by Disney flyers for extremely reduced rates.

2. Plan out my vacations for the next 2 years in my head, remembering that I’d really love to go to an all-inclusive resort – somewhere with pretty blue water. Suddenly remember that I was interested in visiting Paradise Island, Bahamas.

3. Try to convince BFF to travel with our family during this given week. While she wouldn’t be able to go until the following year, she did provide some amazing alternative suggestions. My research into the Beaches resorts begins.

4. Casually mention my plans and timing reasons to husband.

5. Getting nowhere in my plea, create a detailed spread sheet of room costs and airfare for a variety of travel dates for 4-7 night vacations to Boscobel. Provide husband with spreadsheet, which also includes average and incremental cost per day of travel.

6. Order resort brochure. Once it arrives, have 5yo show to her daddy making sure that she appropriately exclaims in awe over the pretty water, water slides, and Sesame Street characters.

At this point, I STILL haven’t convinced him. Crazy, right?

7. Send e-mails to husband with links to the Beaches website and phrases such as – “Open me. You want to go here” and “You love your wife.”

8. Start a campaign to find friends or family to go with us expecting that if husband has a drinking companion, he will be more inclined to look forward to this all-inclusive paradise.

9. With only one day left to book the vacation at a reduced price check the prices one more time and find out I can now get it $300 LESS…but only until tomorrow.

I have yet to determine if this method really is a surefire formula for success. It has been in the past. I’m beginning to think my husband may just not love me anymore.

Of course, after our little discussion and my husband’s timely remark, I took Katie out to swim right away. Because I love her.

This is not an advertisement or endorsement. Of course, if Beaches would like to pay for my vacation it would make it so much easier to convince my husband to go and I would be willing to blog on location ;)

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