My Whole Brand Spankin' New Life

My life, y'all. It is unrecognizable. It changed overnight. The day Rebecca started kindergarten.

She went into school with a giant backpack hanging down to her knees. And she looked so tiny. And she wasn't sure about it. And I wasn't sure about it.

And then she came home from school that first day acting like she was ON CRACK. Its as if the teachers are up there passing out speed tablets to everyone. I was expecting a droopy, teary, exhausted kid. But I guess all those years of self-inflicted hell sleep deprivation have paid off. She is USED to it.  She ran directly outside and played with the neighborhood kids until I dragged her back inside against her will to go to bed at 7 p.m. She seriously falls asleep at an early hour every night.

It is like a totally new world.


I am no longer the sole person in charge of entertaining her all day every day. And that, my friends, was a huge job. That kid has 36 million projects going at all times and her brain is whirring and spitting out questions and demands and requests and godknowswhat so damn fast. And the trail of trash and detritus and mess she generates is so vast and so wide that by 9 a.m. I feel I've run a marathon.

But now that is someone else's problem from 8:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. NOT MY PROBLEM. Muah ha ha ha ha.

And even better? Andrew started two mornings a week at preschool. Praise the baby Jesus in his oxen stall.

I have FREE TIME. Y'all, seriously. FREE TIME. On the calendar. Four hours a week. I can schedule a haircut without lining up babysitters. Heaven on a biscuit.

Downer of a side note: One sad sad thing has happened, though. I think Andrew is kinda done napping. And I'm really in serious mourning about this. SERIOUS. Because this means I no longer nap. Ever. This is a problem I'll address later. Back to the good stuff!

Gone are the days of me, stuck inside with two kids and trying desperately to fill the hours until bedtime. Suddenly I am go-go-go-going ALL the time. Taking Rebecca to school, taking Andrew to school, going to the gym, picking Andrew up, taking Andrew to gymnastics, running errands, running home to put dinner in a crockpot, taking Becca to soccer. Taking Becca to ballet. Dashing around at all hours of the day. Meeting John for LUNCH. OUT. At 1 p.m. Going to Home Depot at TWO p.m.

This is Unheard Of.

I'm serious.

Do you know the last time I was out running and errand during Sacred Nap Time? NEVER. That's when.

It is like a whole new world has opened up to me. And I'm standing there, beaming, shading my eyes, blinking, and looking completely bewildered.  THIS is how I imagined life would be as a Stay at Home Mom. Or, as I like to call it Work At Home Slave  Mom. 

This is something I can handle. Those last five and a half years were hard for me. Just hard.  Dealing with willful toddlers. This is like a fresh breeze in comparison. I feel like this giant weight has been slowly lifting and then suddenly on the first day of kindergarten and preschool it just finally dropped off. I have BACK UP. I have SCHEDULED free time without any guilt. Really this should be a requirement for all parents the minute a baby enters the scene. Because this makes it do-able.

I guess I like go-go-going. And now instead of traveling, I am going bonkers in my own town. Now I have to go pack a ballet bag and snack and go pick up Rebecca and take her to ballet. So I'm outta here!

The year school didn't start

I'm waiting. Will the school district call? Will the first day of school be postponed again? I kinda need to know. If tomorrow is indeed going to happen I need to be making dinner. And bathing my kids.

If it's going to be postponed again I need to continue stressing out over just who the he'll can watch my 2-year old while I attend gradual entry. I also need to be drinking a margarita at my friend's house while the kids run crazy outside all evening and go (yet another day) without bathing.

So which is it?

Hurricane Irene knocked power out in our area. Ours is back on, but many are without. It also knocked down our back neighbor's big tree which really fucking sucks because now I'm looking at a shed and houses rather than beautiful green leaves. Poor me. Wah.

So this all leaves me immobilized. Do I do something? Go somewhere?





Continue drinking my emergency hurricane supplies from the iced down cooler? Throw me a bone here, people.

****update: no school again! The year of the never ending summer!

Summer and the State of the Homesickness

So July was the hottest July and the hottest month on record for Baltimore.

And one day the heat index was 120. Which isn't bad if you live in Arizona an the air isn't 99% saturated in water. But I don't live in Arizona. Evidently, I live in a steam cooker.

My bitter and all-consuming homesickness for Texas abated a bit with this heat wave. Maybe I don't really like being hot and stinky all the time. Maybe it is good to live somewhere that cools down from time to time.

Check back in two months. I will swing wildly back into the "I have to move to Texas immediately" camp. So.....what have we been up to?

Swim lessons. And....uhhhhhh. That's all I can remember. Perhaps some photos....to jog my memory.

Let's see. Oh yes. I bought some booze.



We ate some ice cream.



We held a neighbor's newborn baby....which gave me about 5 minutes of baby fever, but then Andrew shat on the floor and Becca screamed because she couldn't play on the computer anymore and then that passed.



We had dance camp....




We cleaned up a messy room.
Before:


After:



My uncle, aunt and cousins came to visit and we had a fun HOT crab night wherein it was the hottest day on record and my air conditioner didn't work for 8 hours.






The kids had to huddle by a cooler just to survive.



We went to a potato
Chip factory and spent the rest of the month gorging.


We celebrated 14 years of marriage by me smartly trying to take a self portrait while we were driving.


John cooperated. As usual.


If I post enough of these he will stop doing it, riiiigght?


We ate snowcones.


Went to baseball game.


We colored.


The basement looks like this all the time.


Dear lord in heaven, no wonder I need a nap every day. It also explains this lovely treasure I came across in my photo roll.


Help! Someone send help!

I Totally Should Have Invented This

I really wish I had written this
book Me. ME! More than any mother out there I am the one who is always raging against some kind of sleep misdemeanor.

Mostly I just whine and feel sorry for myself that all my friends' children sleep past seven, or eight, or even nine a.m. My little monsters like to be up by six.

Life is so unfair. Why don't my kids do that? What am I doing wrong? Wah. Poor me blah blah blah suburban Tragedycakes.

I should be used to it. I should go to bed at 9 every night and wake with a smile.

No, after 5 and a half years it still pisses me off. Maybe even more so. I absolutely refuse to accept it. I still wake up pissed off at 6 am every day of my life, with no breaks or weekends ever. No matter how late they stay up. No matter if they skip naps and swim 20 straight hours and go on 24 hour raging benders with hookers and blow. Their asses are up at 6 am.

And so is mine.

And the worst part is they hit the ground running. Running and hungry and whining and needy and loud and screechy and chatty. There is no cuddling in bed, or quietly laying down.

And holy shit! Mama just needs everyone to STFU. And lay the F down. And stop yelling at me. And go the F to sleep.

Or, at the very minimum....let me just sit and stew in peace and coffee for ten minutes.

So, seriously. I missed my biggest chance for instant millionaire-hood (first expenditure early morning nanny!) by not writing this book.




******
in other news, well. It's summer. It's humid. The air feels as refreshing as a hot bowl of minestrone. We are doing swimming lessons, which are 45 minutes of kids in the water preceded and followed by 90 minutes of Mommy's frantic preparations regarding suits and sunscreen and packed lunches and snacks and towels and last minute swim diaper "incidents." We are gone for an hour and a half-- and then I have to lie down the rest of the day. But, Becca has finally decided she WANTS to swim and indeed wearing floaties forever may not be such a great idea. So, this is major progress and makes it all worth it.

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I'm waiting for HGTV's new Design Star to start.
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I don't like Ann Curry as Today Show host. I like her as news correspondent.
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I need some new TV to watch.
*****
I really should stop typing and be productive.
*****
The End.

Being pecked to death by chickens

My good friend once told me that motherhood can best be likened to being pecked to death by chickens.

As I sit here on the second floor desperately trying to avoid detection by my lovely spawn, I hear "mommmmmmmyy! Where are you??????? Mommy?"

So there you go. No escape. They find you. Then they peck your eyes out. Then they poop in their underwear and bleed on the carpet and bathe their toads in your clean sink and then they whine. And fight. A lot.

Especially in the summer.

But here's the thing.

After they find you hiding in their room (it's the last place they will look!) they go and do something cute. Like this.


And then you feel horribly guilty about how you just were trying to escape them. Why would you want to escape those poor sweet darling little angels? You're the worst mom in the world, with the possible exception of Casey Anthony (good lawd!) So you put down your phone and you lay down on the floor and stick your head under their crib.....and catch a big whiff of a fresh one.

And there my friends, you have it.

Can I Meditate (Or Medicate?) Myself into Barnes and Noble?

I've become interested in meditation lately. I bought a book called "The Power of The Subconcious Mind" the other night at Barnes and Noble....when I found myself with 20 child-free minutes. It was heavenly, that 20 minutes. I bought a decaf light mocha coconut frappacino (i.e. chemical air with no purpose other than mental health)  from Starbucks and wandered through B & N. I felt light. I felt good. I felt free. I felt like MYSELF. No one was yelling at me. No one was requesting a damn thing. No one needed feeding. No one had produced a turd on the floor. No one had a piece of plastic plaything stuck between their teeth that needed extraction with a pair of tweezers.  No one knew my name. No one called me "Mommy."  No one was fighting. No one was covered in sand. There was no laundry to do. There wasn't a pile of dirty dishes looking at me. Everyone left me the hell alone for 20 blissful minutes.

Damn.

If only I could have that 20 minutes once a day. Seriously.

If once a day I could be in B & N with 13 bucks to spend and a coffee of choice in my hand?

Paradise, I tell you.

Who needs pharmaceuticals? All you really need is time and money in a B & N. It would solve the world's problems. At least, it could solve my problems. Especially if coffee is involved. And silence.

Or maybe some wine.

But really just silence.

So, anyway. I was there. In paradise. Happy as a little clam. Clutching my 13 dollars. Grinning from ear to ear each time I sipped the mocha coconutty goodness. And I picked up a book that told me that my mind could solve all my problems! I just have to, like, think or something. About something other than potty training and kindergarten readiness and naps and sight words and vitamins and nutrition and JESUS! WE HAVE A HOUSE FULL OF TOYS WHY ARE YOU CUTTING PAPER INTO SMALL PIECES AND SPRINKLING THEM ON THE FLOOR AND NO YOU CANNOT HAVE A COOKIE AND WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SHIT STUCK TO THE COMPUTER MONITOR AND WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING?????

I bought this book. Its going to fix me. It says it can.

I'll let you know.

Calming Myself

Breathe deeply. That's what they say. And they're totally right. It does something physical right away. Something good. Something calming.

I need calming. Not for any particularly good reason. I mean, things are good. Life is good. But I still need calming. It is part of my charm.

I tend to overreact.

I tend to make things into bigger deals than they are.

I tend to worry.

A lot.

I fret.

Oh, yes. I'm a fretter. And when I'm fretting, I say to myself, "Self, you KNOW fretting doesn't help. You KNOW this is all going to work out okay. Stop fretting." And yet.....I don't stop. I just go right on fretting for no good reason against all better judgement.

What can I say? I'm charming like that.

John loves it. Oh yes. He loves it when I lay in bed awake and twitching about how am I ever going to get back from gymnastics in time to get Becca's hair in a bun for ballet and get dinner made and then I have that meeting at school and what if it goes over and I can't get there in time to pick up Becca? What if I have to leave early from the meeting? When will I feed Andrew during this scenario? What if he pees in his pants at the meeting? Blah blah blah, first world problemcakes, to quote Amalah.

Those are fun times.

And of course, it all goes off fine. I get home in time to make dinner. Becca gets to ballet. I get to the meeting. Andrew stays dry. He eats. Its all good. Why did I just spend 4 hours of my night stressing about this? Why didn't I spend 4 hours cleaning the house? Now THAT would have gotten me somewhere.

Breathe deeply.

Be still.

Be still. I think that is my all time favorite Bible phrase. Be still. Yes. That is what I need.

I am like a hummingbird on crack.....like a meer cat who has seen an enemy. I'm like a wild animal, tearing through the forest, maniacal eyes rolling back in my head, froth pouring from my mouth.

What a sight.

Be still.

Breathe deeply.