To my daughter

My dear sweet Sidne Kailani,

You gave me the greatest gift today of being your mom. I have cared, loved and nurtured you for over 11 years now, but today I got a glimps of who you truly are and the amazing young woman you are becoming.

Today we were at a swim meet, like many other weekends before and I am sure many more weekends to come. Dad couldn't be there because of work so it was just the three of us and as swim meets often are, it was hectic. You patiently waited all morning while your brother swam and I helped out around the meet. You checked in, got ready and found your coach for warm up all on your own. You took control of the situation and did what you had to do and that is when it hit me...you are no longer my baby girl.

Swimming is such a big part of your life I should of known that any big changes in who you are would manifest itself somewhere in the pool. The last few months you have attacked practices with a single minded determination and a take no prisoners attitude and I should of seen the signs there. But as you already know, your mother is sometimes slow and it didn't hit me until today, watching your swims, amazed at the time drops and proud of every goal you achieved today that you have grown up on me.

Gone is my little girl that got in the pool to swim and talk with her friends, replaced with my young lady who has set her own goals, knows what she wants and most importantly...knows what it takes to get there. You still love your friends and still want to hang out, but it comes second to your practice. The results of this new found determination was evident in your times today. You ROCKED! I loved watching every race you were in but for very different reasons than just a couple of weeks ago.

I am always proud of you. In the pool, out of the pool, at school and even at home when you are driving me crazy! But today was different. Don't get me wrong...your swims were amazing, your times were blazing fast and watching you get spring JO times was pretty fricking awesome! But today what overwhelmed all that was my pride in who you are. Every race you got on the block for you knew what you wanted to achieve. We never discussed your times, your goals or your strategy...that was all between you and your coach. You were in complete control and you handled the pressure with maturity and grace and I have never been prouder of you. Every success you had today was because of your hard work, your initiative and your determination.

You are amazing. You are everything I could have ever hoped for in a daughter and so much more. I am overwhelmed by the pride I have in you and I am so blessed to be your mom. Thank you for letting me be a part of your amazing journey, for helping you along the way, for accepting the love I have for you and giving me back so much more than I deserve.

I love you Pooh Bear!

Mom

The Thumb of Destruction

This is my thumb, the thumb of destruction. While it appears to be like any regular thumb, my thumb has amazing capabilities that the average thumb just could not fathom to accomplish. This thumb can kill any plant within a 100 yard radius with just a slight flick in its direction. As you can see, this thumb is not green and even the black shroud of deadly garden thumbs is afraid to color this mass weapon of destruction. Garden Gnomes cower in its presence and plastic flamingos are known to take miraculous flight to avoid the Thumb's unrestrained annihilation of the surrounding landscape. This Thumb knows no boundaries and previous attempts at harnessing its powers have proven futile.

Yet, in all this destruction and despair there is one thing that manages to not only live in the presence of the Thumb, but actually thrives in spite of all attempts both intentional and unintentional to thwart it...WEEDS!

Yes, I can manage to kill your everyday lawn grass but the weed population in my garden manages to continually expand even in light of my continued use of Round-Up, weed and feed sprays, pellets and such and the numerous attempts I have made to yank these little devils out by their roots! It appears that not only do the existing weeds laugh in the face of my attempts, but there must be an underground communications system that alerts all the weeds in the neighborhood that my yard is an ultimate weed utopia. Just when I think there couldn't be another weed that I have not encountered, a new one appears from out of no where! Weeds are not only thriving in my yard, but they are cross breeding to make the preeminent weed of destruction.

As I knelt in my garden last night, yanking weed after weed out of my feeble attempt of a flower bed, I began to wonder...who in their right mind decided that a weed is a weed? Seriously, someone somewhere some long time ago sat in a greenhouse and made the determination that a hearty, drought tolerant plant that does not appear to need fertilizers, food, a precise amount of sun or shade or any other high maintenance requirements is not only unneeded but unwanted in a civilized garden. What friggin' idiot came to that conclusion? I don't have to do a dang thing to my weeds and they not only survive but thrive! But if I even make an attempt to purchase, replant and grow what has been deemed an appropriate garden plant I am faced with the daunting tasks of supplying the proper soil, nutrition and special handling in hopes that the delicate bloom will survive the trauma that is experienced while it is replanted. I don't know about your success rate with this task, but mine is well under 50/50. More like 90/10...meaning 10% actually make it out alive!

Meanwhile, a weed can be yanked out by its root, thrown across the yard onto a concrete slab, and it will find a way to take root and keep on growing. Simultaneously, the infinitesimal weed root that was left deep in the soil will shortly reach for the sky and another weed will appear to take the previous inhabitants space. These weeds do not know what weakness is. They show no fear and march on in their quest for garden domination!

Therefore, I am making this proclamation and I hope that all other members of the Thumbs of Destruction community will join me...Weeds are GOOD! Weeds should no longer be looked at as the evil intruder, but the welcomed guest. We should abandon the long hours, money and resources to nurture the so called "popular" plants and instead embrace the simplicity and understated beauty of the Weed. It is long overdue that weeds have their time in the sun, so to speak, and we appreciate them for their hearty dispositions and eagerness to grow and flourish. If we band together we can "thumb" our Thumbs of Destruction at the establishment and no longer be slaves to the silly "norm". Think about the freedom of time and money when you are no longer spending weekends at Home Depot, clunking down hundreds of dollars, paying exorbitant water bills and cowering before your HOA!

We can do this people! Let Weeds set you free!  Are you with me?

Ode to a Swim Mom

I am a Swim Mom through and through

Only others like me know the pain that ensues

I am at the pool morning, noon and night

Chlorine is the perfume of my life

Our success is not measured in a game won or lost

But by the 100th of a second either added or dropped

We are known to travel both far and wide

Often times to pools impossible to find

Getting up and going before the rising sun

All for 30 seconds of a race that starts at 1

 

We pay for private lessons, special gear and such

My other friends balk when I tell them how much

Keeping up on the latest technology is a full time career

But a $200 knee suit could make the race of the year

But all this insanity has its ups too

My kids are exhausted when the day is through

I guess I should feel guilty when they swim 5000 yards anight

But it beats having them climbing the walls, which alwaysends in a fight

Swim keeps them out of trouble, keeps them healthy too

Keeps me and their Dad from going insane and locked up in azoo

The friendships we have found on the side of the pool

Make all of the practices and meets always so cool

So when you see my car heading down the road

Heading to some pool you don’t even know

Know that I am exactly where I want to be

Because I am a Swim Mom, yes, that is me

Please say a prayer

They say that bad things come in threes so when a couple of crappy things started happening I should of braced myself, but I don't think any amount of bracing could of prepared me for the news I received today.

A wonderful woman that I have had the privilege to know, love and call my friend is losing her battle with breast cancer. She has been fighting this horrible disease for a few years now but for some reason it doesn't appear that God is going to let her win this one. My heart hurts. I try to tell myself that there is a bigger plan that we just don't know about, but the selfish side of me is pissed and frustrated and grasping at anything to try and make sense of this great loss.

Marsi is remarkable. She has faced her disease head on with the most optimistic attitude that I have ever seen. She has kept her humor, her love of life and her compassion for others throughout her battle. She has taught us all what it truly means to be a fighter and a survivor. She carries herself with such grace and kindness that anyone that is blessed to cross her path is forever touched by the true goodness that is Marsi. She makes you want to be a better person and in her actions she shows you how. She is light.

She is surrounded by a family that holds her up, loves her, comforts her and cherishes her. She makes it easy for them to be everything for her because they are her everything. Her husband has always referred to her as his bride even many years and 2 kids later. Her children are a pure joy to be around and they carry in them all the warmth and compassion that they so obviously learned from her. She and her husband have taught them how to love unconditionally and in the face of adversity. They will always be the most solid family I have had the privilege of knowing.

So with my heavy heart I ask you to say a prayer for Marsi. Say a prayer for a woman that taught me what it was to be a true friend. Say a prayer for her husband and children that they will find peace during this difficult time. Say a prayer for the plan that God has in mind, that those that love her will one day understand why He had to have her face this battle. Say a prayer for everyone tonight that has faced, is facing or will face this awful disease. Say a prayer for your loved ones and kiss them a few extra times tonight.

Marsi, I love you.


Update:

Marsi lost her battle with cancer on July 13, 2012. While her body could no longer fight, her heart and soul will continue to soar through the lives of her amazing husband and their beautiful children. I am saddened to lose my friend but am so thankful I was a small part of her journey.

You have GOT to be kidding me!

It has been a week from hell and it is only Tuesday. There is no possible way I am going to manage to navigate my way to Friday because the road is infested with stupid people.

First on my list is good 'ol Bank of America. Yes, I know we should switch banks and not be subject to the horrors of this conglomerate of stupidity, but we have banked with them for so long, have so many accounts with them, so many direct pays and auto pays that the thought of switching is twitch enducingly frightening. That being said I might have found my motivation to do it in the last 24 hours.

About 2 1/2 weeks ago they contacted my husband and told him they suspected fraudulent activity on his ATM card. OK, thanks for being on the ball and letting us know and canceling the card. Unfortunatly, there was a little mix up in reissuing a new card. See, the person that called my husband made a few crucial mistakes. One, they assumed that he had even a basic knowledge of our accounts and two, they assumed that we still resided in the state we opened our accounts in. The first one should have been realized within the first two minutes of the conversation because I know my husband and he would of told anyone he spoke to to contact me. The second could have been avoided if they just took a second to look at the address of record on the account. Instead, they told my husband to go into a banking center and get a new card. Big mistake, huge, enormous mistake!

Unfortunatly, BofA California, where we live, does not talk to BofA for the rest of the country, which is where we opened these accounts. They are on totally different computer, operating  and management systems and can not even share information. At least, this is what I have been told numerous times by BofA employees. So in order for my husband to go to a banking center and obtain a new card we would have to travel to another state! Why in the hell would you tell someone to go to a banking center where they live knowing full well that that banking center cant do jack crap for you!

Now fast forward two weeks later and countless nights of him borrowing my card to get gas, food and other things one normally needs during an average week. We are patiently waiting for the card, but the patient level is dwindling fast. Knowing that my husband doesn't have the time nor the desire to try to navigate the endless voicemail hell that a BofA customer service call would entail, the phone call is bounced to my court. Really, no problem and I am happy to do it. They canceled it and I just need to tell him he never got a replacement card and he can't go to a banking center and they will reissue another one. How hard can it be to request a replacement card for one they canceled to the name and address of record? Let me tell you...IT IS A NIGHTMARE!

I spent 45 minutes yesterday arguing with Rosie that this is a simple request and I would like it to be done. She argued with me that they had to talk to him to verify his identity. Seriously, what do you want to know because I have it all. Date of Birth? Social Security Number? Mother's maiden name? Blood Type? I know all this crap better than he does! I have been the office manager of our Family, Inc. operation for what seems like forever. Rosie wouldn't budge, so I asked to speak to someone that could approve my request and I was transferred to a voice mail! I left my terse message with very clear instructions, don't call me back unless you are going to tell me the card is on its way.

Well, they called back and they not only didn't tell me it was on the way but now I got to argue with someone new all over again. This time I only wasted 10 minutes before asking for a supervior and I was told she was it. So I called bullshit. Unless you are the Chairman of the Board for BofA you have a fricking boss and I want to speak to them. She refused but continued to tell me she understood my frustration and the reasons I was upset. If she understood so well then why couldn't she just hit the damn button to reissue the card. She didn't understand anything and I told her so and added to her vast understanding that if she told me she understood again she was going to really make me angry. I think I put the fear of God into her with that statement because I was already well off my rocker and sliding rapidly down a slippery slope of off the charts hysterics.

Ok, so I changed tactics. I asked her what their policy was when they suspected fradulent activity.

Me: "When an ATM Card is suspected of fraud do you reissue another card?"
Her: "Usually, Yes"
Me: "And you didn't in this case"
Her: "No"
Me: "So, how about you issue one now"
Her: "I can't do that without speaking to your husband"
Me: "Do you call the customer before or after you suspend the card?"
Her: "After"
Me: "So you can cancel the account without speaking to the customer but you can't reissue the card without speaking to them"
Her: "That is correct"
Me: "Does that make any logical sense?"
Her: "No, but I don't know the circumstances regarding the cancelation of your card, that would be our ATM department"
Me: "Well, maybe we should talk to someone there that can clear this up for both of us"

And that is where Crystal came in. Within 3 minutes Crystal reviewed the account, verified that they indeed made an error and would reissue the card and send it out FedEx within 2 business days.

REALLY? All that and the solution was from a customer service representative in their ATM department. I had talked to the highest supervisor and she couldn't make it happen, but Crystal, the everyday customer service rep could. I think Crystal needs a raise and a promotion over Rosie and all of her superviors because they are dumb as dirt but Crystal obviously understands the basic business principal we were all raised on. THE CUSTOMER IS ALWAYS RIGHT!

Now with the Bank of America situation under control I am off to conquer the State of California...more on that little fiasco later!

Brand of Crazy

We all have a different brand of crazy. When I say all, I truly mean each and every single living soul has their own ways they act crazy. Some are good, some bad, and some are down right dangerous. The key to survival is to recognize your own crazy and migrate to either others just like you or a complementary crazy.

Take me and my husband. I am the fly off the handle, can't hide a single emotion, must express all feelings in an obvious manner type of crazy. While my husband is the calm, cool, at times comatose, even keeled type of crazy. His crazy scares me, as it should everyone, because we all know the strong silent types have some dark shit brewing under that cool surface. On the other hand, he doesn't know how I manage to keep it together when he sees me go through an emotionally trying time. I guess you could say I am the ying to his yang, but really we are just compatible crazy people.

I could never live with someone just like me. We would kill each other or blow up something within 24 hours. The same goes for my husband. If he lived with someone just like him nothing would get done and any conflict would stew and fester for years before anyone would deal with it. Yeah, they would stay together but they would silently hate each other but would never tell each other because no one would want to rock the boat. See what I mean about ugly shit just under the surface.

So, in my observations here are some of the brands that crazy comes in:

Mean crazy - this is an ugly crazy. These are the people that take all emotions out in a mean way. Instead of dealing with it, crying it out, screaming or anything resembling constructive, they just get mean. They say mean things, treat people cruelly and most of the time to people they aren't even mad at. They are just mean and angry people, what I like to refer to as angry elves.

Silly crazy - some people handle stress by turning into big goof balls. These are some of my favorite crazies because no matter what crap is about to hit the fan, these crazies are going to giggle and goof their way through it. Sometimes this backfires on them in touchy situations such as funerals and such, but most of the time it is just good fun to watch.

Screamer crazy - this one is a little familiar for me because I am a screamer. When my blood is boiling and I am ticked off my voice just gets louder and louder until I resemble a screech owl with an attitude. While in the midst of a screamer attack it is quite scary, once the storm blows over, and it is usually pretty quick, these crazies are usually quick to let go and move on. There is a benefit to being able to scream at the top of your lungs, it gets everything all out and you truly feel free of all the negativity.

Silent crazy - the sit and simmer and you can tell they are upset but when you ask you will be lucky to get a terse "fine". These are some scary crazy people because you just know that there is going to come a point and this crazy is going to BLOW!

Airhead crazy - this crazy you really can't get mad at because they themselves don't really have a clue of what is going on. Sometimes this crazy is also referred to as blonds. They are happily living in their own bubble and don't have a clue what is going on around them. There are many days I try to visit airhead crazy land because it just seems so calm and stress free.

Know It All crazy - now this crazy does get you mad because you just can't win with them. Or get a word in edgewise. Or have a valid opinion unless it is identical to theirs. Or have a good idea. Or a plethora of other things. They exhaust you by their mere presence. Heck, I am tired just thinking about these kind of crazies.

Strong crazy - you know these types, the I can handle anything because I am strong. I can lift small buildings, I can fight off an alien attack, I can nurse a small bird back to life, I do it all because I am STRONG. Bullshit. No one is that strong and usually when these strong types are faced with an emotional crazy type they fold up like a piece of origami. Emotional crazy doesn't play by they rules of logic and strong crazy does. Kills them every time.

Weak crazy - these are the ones that usually piss off all the other crazies. Just own up to your crazy and handle your shit. These are the people that are just to emotionally frail to handle anything. If they do something wrong and are called on the carpet for it, they usually turn into crying heaps of dung and nothing gets solved. They are never responsible for their crazy because they are to weak to help that they are crazy.

Emotional crazy - these are the types that feel everything A LOT! I think in the medical field they might refer to this as bi-polar, but it is just another normal type of crazy if you ask me. When they are sad they are in the pits of despair. When they are happy they want the whole world to be happy with them. When they are angry it is a national crisis and when they are hurt the world should stop and comfort them. They just feel everything to the extreme. That must be very tiring.

Parental crazy - momma bears, I'm telling Dad and all those other cliches are there for a reason because parents are CRAZY. And there are 2 types of parental crazy. The "nothing is going to hurt my baby and I will fight anyone that tries" crazy, which is usually reserved for parents of underage children. Then you have the crazy parents that go off the deep end and even their kids don't know what the heck to do with them. These are the parents that siblings fight over to see who is going to deal with Mom or Dad this time. For some reason these parents think just because they had sex once many years ago and brought a child into this world that those children are fully responsible for their happiness. Those are some crazy parents.

The kicker to all of these types of crazy is that we all have a little of each going on in us. Does this make us unhealthy or unstable? No, as long as we can keep the bad crazies to a minimum and let the silly and fun crazies out a lot more.

The Flood Gates Have Opened!

Maybe he should gear up every day!

As you all know, my boy had a little mishap with his bike last week and had to have some stitches to put him back together again. Well, last night we removed the offending stitches and I can honestly say that the injury flood gates have now opened!

If you have ever gone out drinking, especially beer, you know exactly what I am talking about. You are having a great time and all of the sudden it hits you that you have to pee. Do you immediately go to the rest room? NOOOOOO! You wait for as long as humanly possible because you know that minute you break the seal, you will spend the rest of the night going back and forth to that nasty bathroom. Once you open the flood gates there is no going back and there really isn't much worse than that.

Well, I think my boy has opened his injury flood gates. We had 7 1/2 glorious injury free years, other than the normal bumps and scratches, and now that time is done. Over. Finish. Kaput. Within the hour of removing his stitches he was accidentally run over by his friend with their bike. Bloody nose, scraped up knee (yes, the same one with the stitches), and pain. Lots of pain. Really, only one hour later. You have got to be kidding me!

Stitched up leg, getting better!

At least this time all it took was some toilet paper up the nose and a warm shower and all was better in his world. But now I live in fear. I knew his first set of stitches weren't going to be his last, but I didn't think he was going to be a homing beacon for all incoming catastrophes. It is like he is a magnet for trouble. Crap, the flood gates are opened.

Pet Peeve Monday!

Warning...the following blog might not be suitable for all ages. Not 100% sure how bad it is really going to get, but I am going to be talking about crap that pisses me off so it could get ugly. Just saying.

Things that are pissing me off (or did piss me off and I am still not over it) this fine Monday morning:

If you don't like the answer I just provided to your question, do you really think getting snotty with me is going to A. change my answer or B. help your cause in any way, shape or form?

Never marry a nice guy! Because when he is being a jerk and you try to bitch to your girlfriends about him they really don't believe you!

Don't post some lame ass open ended boo hoo comment on facebook and not explain yourself. Really...go fishing for sympathy often, do we?

Don't respond to said pathetic posts with support, especially if you really don't know what is going on. For all you know you are saying you are fully supporting someone that just shot their fricking nice guy spouse! Are you going to be there for them then?

Bagging grocery helper, when bagging groceries, do not put bread in with cans, bottles or other heavy objects. While you might enjoy misshaped and smushed bread, my kids won't touch the crap with a 10 foot pole. Thanks.

Maker of the self check out things at stores - FIX THOSE DAMN THINGS NOW! What is the use of self check out if every single time I try to use them I have to wait for a frigging person to either count my bananas or verify the bottles of cream soda haven't been swapped out for some beer.

Person who stole my Kids at Play sign this weekend. Do you really want to mess with that kind of karma dude? Stealing my sign so your kids can play safe while mine play speeding car roulette is only going to end bad for you. When that little bit of irony bites you in the ass it is going to suck. Just saying.

Warm gooey rice crispy treats...my bathroom scale says up yours!

What is the point of paying a crap load of money to have stitches put into my child for 7 - 10 days if they all fall out within 5?


That is all I can think of right now which is surprising because I feel far bitchier than that.

My Ultimate Mother's Day Wish List

Mother's Day has once again returned and this year I am bound and determined to get something or anything really, that I want. Last year we were traveling for an Ironman event my husband was participating in so the weekend was all about him. My family was quick to note that we went out of town for Mother's Day, but as lovely as St. George, Utah is, that trip had absolutely NOTHING to do about me. I don't even think I got a card. In fact, my husband got injured so I am pretty sure I spent my last Mother's Day driving across the scenic southwestern deserts. WOOOO HOOOO!

So this year my family is generously asking what I would like for Mother's Day. With the craptastic legacy they left behind last year, they really don't have to do much to make this year better. I could probably milk it for something really nice or maybe even a weekend trip someplace that I REALLY would like to visit, but instead what I truly want doesn't cost a thing.

My Ultimate Mother's Day Wish List 

(and feel free to add a comment if you think I might have forgotten something)

1. Do not fight with your sibling - I don't care whose fault it is, if it is or isn't fair or who started it first, but for a full 24 hours don't bitch, bicker, hit, punch, push, shove or even roll your fricking eyes at each other.

2. Clean up after yourselves - I would like to hang my maid uniform up for the day and not have to clean up after you all. What this also means is don't leave it for me to pick up on Monday, because in your little minds, Mother's Day would be over so I would be back to my normal duties.

3. Do your household chores without me nagging - if you are putting something in the trash can and you see that it is full, TAKE IT OUT! If you are outside and notice that the grass needs cut, CUT IT, ALL OF IT! Get the weed wacker out and do the edges too. I should not be the only person in this house that knows how to use power tools.

4. Pick a project - I have my pet peeves and you know them so on this sacred day of showing me some love, pick something that I am always stuck doing because it is a crappy job an no one else will do it. Clean out the garage (it is mostly toys anyway), do some laundry (how many towels do you people really need to use in one week), or maybe weed the yard. I am not saying they all have to be done...just pick one!

5. As much as I love a little peace and quiet, do not use Mother's Day as an excuse to go do something without me. That is just mean. If anyone is doing something fun around here it is ME and the words WINE and SPA should be included!

6. Make the meals and don't ask me what I want! I have to spend all week being a short order cook and master meal planner that on my one day of peace I really don't want to think about what to eat and I really don't want to make it. You all know what I like and as far as food is concerned there really isn't much I don't enjoy. Open the fridge/freezer and I am sure you will find something in there that will tickle me pink. BUT, please remember request #2 when you are through!

7. Let me touch the remote - for one day we can watch what I like to watch. I promise not to saturate the day with DIY shows or reality crap, but there are only so many times I can watch the same sport show and not go postal on everyone. If you can manage to peel it from your tight grasps, I will respect the power of the remote.

8. Let me sleep - I really envision some kind of extra sleep on Mother's Day. It could take the form of a lazy morning of sleeping in or my favorite, an afternoon nap. Here is the catch though, leave me be! Do not come bustling into my room and throwing yourself and your cold little feet under my covers. If you catch me drifting on the sofa, don't choose that time to have a rousing round of who can scream the loudest! Let a sleeping Momma lye, please.

9. Just Do It - and I am not talking the Nike commercial type of crap, I am talking about when I ask you to do something, JUST DO IT. Here is how it is going to roll...Me: "could you please take your shoes upstairs" You: "OK, Mom". OMG - did you see how easy that went. My blood pressure remained stable, I didn't have to resort to yelling at the top of my lungs to pick up your damn shoes and every one's day was a little brighter. Wow, that was refreshing.

10. Remind me why I do it - I love being the Mom, but sometimes it is a thankless, tireless, mundane, crummy, gross, exhausting and all around bummer of a job. Just throw a couple extra smiles my way, maybe an unexpected hug and kiss or the ultimate...a thanks.

Happy Mother's Day!

I am OLD!

I survived my daughter's birthday weekend...barely. The weekend was jammed full of stuff both for my girl and other normal suburban housewife crud. You know the kind, other birthday party gift purchases, mom taxi to parties, practices, private lessons, food shopping, and a donation drive. Then her slumber party, cleaning of the house, and a trip to an amusement park. How we fit all that into 48 hours and sleep a little is beyond me and I can tell you this Monday morning I am feeling the pain.

When I speak of pain I am talking about the just got hit by a semi truck and the SOB threw that monster in reverse and nailed me a few more times just for good measure. Between the lack of sleep, being up on my feet almost the entire weekend and a roller coaster ride from hell, the only thing I wanted to do today was pull up the covers and pretend that this Monday morning never existed. But noooooo, instead I forgot I said I would work today, what the heck was I thinking?

As I stood under the scorching heat of the shower spray this morning I felt old for the first time since I turned 4o this past summer. Up until this moment I really haven't felt old. I have felt older, like in the I can't drink like I used to and I really need to get some more sleep kind of older, but today I am OLD. My back is killing me, my head hurts and I am pretty sure I am catching a cold. What makes this even more pathetic is that I was asleep by 8:15 last night and I still feel like this today!

I even want to regurgitate tried and true old people phrases like "turn the music down" and throw in a "that crap isn't music anyway, not like the music from my day" just for good measure. I should of seen this coming when I recently started to watch VH1 Classics...and I not only know all the bands, but can sing along to what they refer to as "Classic Hits".   Pretty soon I am going to be telling the neighborhood kids stories that begin, "well, in MY day" and "you kids don't know how good you have it".

I firmly believe that the turning point of my recent aggressive aging process was the family visit to Knott's Berry Farm. Part of my daughter's birthday present was a seasons pass to the amusement park and neighboring water park. I am pretty sure I will NOT live to regret this decision. We visited the park for a few hours, which is one of the perks of season passes to anything, you don't feel the need to stay all day to get your money's worth. My husband and I haven't been to the park in years and this was the first time for both of our kids. It was a pleasant departure from the overwhelming crowds of Disneyland and we were enjoying the day. Then we decided to take one last ride before heading to the car. Big mistake, HUGE, awful, BIG MISTAKE.

In our ignorance we rode the Ghost Rider. Really, how bad could an old fashioned wooden roller coaster be? Well, let me tell you...IT WAS HELL! I literally felt that I had the sense knocked right out of me. The ride was so bumpy and bouncy that my boobs came out of my bra...and I was wearing a sports bra! The ride picture that they so generously take was absolutely hysterical, we all looked completely miserable. From about 15 seconds into the ride I began to pray that the torture would end immediately. By the end of the ride I was manically laughing because I could not believe the sheer pain, discomfort and woozy feelings that the previous 60 seconds created. And I paid good money to feel this crappy!

After our ride from hell we quickly, well as quick as we could manage given our physical incapacitation, evacuated the amusement park for the relative relaxing car ride home on the Southern California freeways. I can genuinely say that our trip home via the 91 freeway was down right pleasant in comparison to some of the rides we had just endured. As the kids happily napped in the backseat, my husband and I compared notes about our recent adventure. "OK, the green one we rode, did you blackout a little at the top?" YES "how about the swing one, feel a little dizzy during?" YES "how about the little one?" HATED IT.

So now we have seasons passes to an amusement park that we are almost positive is going to give our family lasting head trauma and various other ailments. After a 4 hour visit I can honestly say I have absolutely no desire to visit the park again. I am sure the kids will guilt us into another visit, but my OLD self will be kicking and screaming the whole way.

I knew getting older was going to suck...but being OLD has really thrown me for a loop. I am sure in the months to come more "old people" things are going to start creeping their way into my life. I already see the signs...dinners are getting earlier and earlier. It really doesn't seem weird to eat at 4:30 does it? I can rarely sleep in past 5:30 in the morning and I have started doing sudoku puzzles. I wont even mention the unusual places hair has begun to grow, how many reading glasses are floating around the house and the fact I was once know to always be a little chilly and now I am the first to blast the air conditioning at the first sign of a warm day.

Really, what more could happen...don't answer that, I think I want to be surprised!

A Real Emergency

My boy got hurt pretty bad today. In the 11 years that I have been a mom, today was the first time I had to rush one of my kids to the emergency room. While that is a pretty good track record and I should be thankful that we have gone this long without this milestone, it was the most awful feeling I have ever experience in my life and I NEVER want to go through that again. Although, if you know my boy you will surely understand when I say I know that is just a pipe dream and today's trip will surely not be my last.

I am lucky to have two very active kids. They are super athletic, love being outdoors and somehow acquired a competitive streak, not sure where that comes from (uncomfortable cough and now looking away). Our typical weekends are filled with activities and this weekend wasn't any different with football games, 2 days of a swim meet and a triathlon. What was on the unusual side was that the kids weren't doing the same events so my husband and I had to divide and conquer. For the record, I know I didn't conquer a dang thing and this weekend actually kicked me squarely in the butt.

So I was on the boy duty this morning as we left the house before 5am to check him into his triathlon. This was not his first one, in fact, this was his third, so we thought we knew what we were getting into. We stopped at Starbucks, blared some LMFAO on the car stereo and traveled for about an hour to get to the race. Everything was going great. We got his gear checked in, scouted out the area and had some time to relax before his event. We were having a great time.

My Boy Pre Race

My boy managed to position himself well for the swim start and was one of the first in his age group to come out of the water. His transition time from the swim to the bike was blazing fast! Any positions he gave up in the water he made up for when he raced onto the bike course. My pride and excitement were at an all time high as he made the quick loop giving me a big smile as he headed to the open road on his bike. The bike course is 3 or 4 miles long so there are just some parts that as a spectator you are not able to see, but that short of a distance usually doesn't take the kids too long to reappear. Within 10 minutes the first kids in his age group were returning. As I waited, my camera was poised ready to capture his triumphant return. After a few more minutes and a large number of kids returned I knew something was wrong. My boy is a fierce competitor and he should of been back. I knew.

Without even asking anyone I just ran for the medical tent. Ironically, at the same time I was running I saw an event car rushing to the same area. I can't tell you how I knew, but I knew my boy was in that car. I knew he was hurt. My heart ached and I cursed my feet for not being able to carry me faster. I needed to see him, hold him, tell him everything was going to be OK.

God Bless the wonderful crew in the medical tent. Although it couldn't of been more than a few minutes that he was there, they were already talking to him like they were old friends, distracting him from his pain and trying to clean out the gash. There was a lot of blood. The three of us instantly knew that it was pretty bad and with a shared glance we acknowledge that this was more than a band aide wound, but we weren't going to let our very shaken patient know. Quickly, we cleaned out the wound, packed the gash with ointment and bandaged him up.

OUCH!

My boy is tough. He is strong. He is brave. He amazed me today. The wound on his shin was deep and took 8 stitches to close up. He squeezed my hand when the pain got bad, but the only time he even cried a little was when I was holding him when we were alone. I would have gladly taken his pain as my own if I could, but I don't know if I could have handled it as well as he did. He is remarkable.

Now my remarkable little man is sleeping soundly probably dreaming of his next adventure which is not to occur in at least 7 - 10 days per doctor's orders. Keeping him down is going to be a challenge but as I sit here being too exhausted to sleep I am forever grateful for that challenge and the fact that it was only 8 stitches and nothing more. I showered him with all his favorite things tonight, pizza, ice cream and new games on the iPad. Tomorrow I am keeping him home from school under the pretense that the wound has to be protected the first 24 hours so the skin has an opportunity to begin the healing process. What is really happening is that I am afraid to let him go. I need him near me just a little longer, his presence reassuring me that he is in fact, OK.

Today reminded my how much I love my children. They are everything that is bright and right in my world and I would be lost without them. It was also the first time I truly saw one of my children in real pain and I couldn't do anything to take it away. Today I truly know what it means to be a mother bear. I have protected my kids from bullies, broken friendships, unforgiving teachers and being overlooked by those they thought they could trust. I have fought when I thought they were wronged even when they themselves didn't understand it. None of that prepared me for today. I laid in a hospital bed with my child wrapped in my arms and that was all I could do. But I can tell you, there is absolutely nothing in this world that would have been able to pry him away from me.

I hope that when the time comes for me to let them go I will be able to, but please God, please not anytime soon.

Party Time!

My baby girl is turning 11 this week so her Dad and I are throwing her a slumber party this weekend. Our house will be taken over by a bunch of little girls, giggling, whispering, playing games and making a ton of noise. If I were normal I would be dreading the whole evening, but instead I am kicked into full party planning gear and I couldn't be happier. In fact, my little girl is trying to reign me in and has warned me to not go overboard. She wants me to keep it low key, not like all the other parties I throw. Who is this child? I demand a maternity test because this girl can't be mine!

My baby Girl

I LOVE a good party. I really love MY parties. I get the deepest pleasure from opening my home, feeding people a ton of great food, concocting tasty drinks and watching those near and dear to me have a good time. I spend months planning a really big party and each moment is pure bliss for me. Well, maybe not pure bliss, the last 24 hours can get a little hairy and my husband and I are rarely speaking to each other when the first guests arrive. Rest assured though, by the time the last guests leave we are happily sharing a plate full of leftovers, laughing about all the wonderful things that happened the few short hours before and contemplating when the next big shin ding should occur.

I am also the expert at justifying any and all reasons to have a party. Holidays are my specialty, but really, I can celebrate any day that ends with a "y". Recently we were invited to some friend's house for a BBQ and my girlfriend's husband asked who was coming. As she was rattling off the short list her husband asked if I was going to be attending, which I was, and he simply stated "If she is going to be here it isn't just a BBQ, it will be a party".  Although I am not 100% sure his statement was a compliment, I took it as such and no one can tell me differently. After all, it was a day that ended with a "y" so if pressed I am sure I had a reason we should of been having a party.

I am not sure when my love of parties began or when I started throwing multiple parties each year, but I can tell you they were born out of necessity. Once we had kids my husband and I really became home bodies, which is crippling for an extroverted person like myself. They say having kids changes everything and it sure did for me. While we still enjoyed going out, having a good time, relaxing with friends, we were terrified to leave our kids with anyone. We even tried a sleepover with my parents when our daughter was 2 but after multiple unanswered phone calls we left the office party in a panic and rushed to see what awful tragedy had occurred to our precious baby girl. Imagine our shock when we arrive and found everyone asleep with the TV blaring so loud it drowned out the sound of the telephone. No, babysitters of any kind were not for us.

Meanwhile, all our friends also started to have kids of their own and we knew we weren't the only ones with the attachment parent issues. I fully admit it wasn't the kids that had the separation anxiety, it was us! So, instead of finding suitable childcare, paying the astronomical amount for said suitable provider (because if they are good, they won't be cheep) and then adding on the additional cost of the actual date, we began to stay home and invite other families to join us. It was a win win for everyone. In fact, one of the first big get together we had I hired a babysitter to hang out with the kids, do crafts and handle the little stuff so the parents could really relax without the constant interruption little ones supply. It was awesome! Now that our kids are older and more self sufficient it is much easier...trampoline in the back, a couple of games the older ones can control and lots of new outside balls and sidewalk chalk. EVERYONE is happy!

Our Halloween Witch's Brew

We have gotten so good at it that we are actually know for our annual Halloween party. Halloween is our big blow out of the year and absolutely everything is over the top. Kid game, goodie bags, enough food to feed a small country, drinks, fire pit, chocolate fountain and just about everyone comes dressed in costume. Halloween is my favorite holiday because I get to throw a party of gigantic proportions and my husband just sits back and watches me make the magic happen. He lets me roll with it because he knows it will be great and he knows it makes he happy to my core. I guess he gets the same thing out of it as I do, he likes to see me happy and it makes me happy to see everyone else happy. By the end of the evening our living room is usually a dance floor, kids and moms dancing, people sweating, laughing and carrying on. Occasionally a husband will take a disturbing home video of a mom getting her grove on and just like that our house party goes viral! Disneyland has nothing on our house, at Halloween we are the happiest place on earth!

All this talk of a party makes we want to throw one...hmmmm...summertime is almost here and my best friend is coming to visit. Sounds like a reason to party to me!

Christmas in July!

I just got the best news today! My all time greatest bestest friend in the whole wide world is coming to visit me this July! I am so over the top excited the only thing I can compare it to is the feeling you had as a child waiting for Christmas to arrive. I don't get to see my friend that often because she lives in another country on another continent a whole big ocean away! I miss her terribly and the joy she brings into my life is unexplainable.

The bonus of the trip is that her significant other is visiting as well. It is very rare to like your best friend's new squeeze but I can genuinely say that I love hers, the joy he brings to my girlfriend, and he just makes me smile. He is also one of the easiest house guests we have ever had. Being from a Scandinavian country he was completely taken in by all of our American excesses. I managed to impress him with Costco, factory outlet malls and the many many wineries we have within 5 minutes of our home. During their stay with us we enjoyed numerous trips to bulk warehouses, massive amounts of fresh crab meat, and never ending glasses of wine. It was two wonderful weeks of shopping, rich food and delicious wine. I had died and gone to hostess heaven.

So now I have the opportunity to not only redo our last visit, but to make this one even better. When they were here last time, we had just moved into our home and we were fairly unfamiliar with what our area had to offer. Two years later and I am practically a native and I am ready to show off our town and the awesome people that live here. Of course there will be trips to the wineries, but now I know people and people know me! There will be an evening of dancing at the greatest biker bar I have ever gone to! New restaurants to try, live music venues and home BBQ. I can't wait!

So to that big "Santa" in the sky, thanks for my Christmas in July.

Facebook is not my Friend

I used to like Facebook. Not so much anymore.

Facebook used to be a great forum to just get a glimpse about what was happening with your friends and family. Occasionally you would comment on something and rarely you would have a conversation with a true beginning, middle and end. If fed the voyeur in all of us with pictures, funny stories and perfect one liners. It was fun.

Now it feels like a full time job to keep up on everything. Somehow I have managed to divide my Facebook friends into lists and I am not sure how it actually happened. In doing so, I have lost the simple, clean and fun news feed. In order to see what everyone is doing I have to hit about 7 different "list" feeds and try to figure out what I have missed. What makes this even harder is that I usually access FB on my phone and for just a quick minute here and there, which means I am missing a ton of crap.

Missing a ton of crap probably wouldn't be a big deal if it weren't for the fact that people have posted stuff to me that I have never seen, commented on items of mine that I never knew, or responded to something I said in someone elses' thread and I look like a complete A$$ because I didn't respond to their response. People's feelings are getting hurt, grudges are being held and friendships are faltering all because I can't manage to figure out this list thing. What the hell is going to happen when I am forced to finally give in and switch to the Timeline?!

Recently I watched the movie The Social Network about the humble beginnings of Facebook and its founder, Mark Zuckerberg. I am not sure if they were trying but they sure made him look like a friendless ass. Therefore, I am forced to come to the conclusion that all these changes being made to the layout, lists and timeline of Facebook are all a round about way of making us all become friendless asses. If we miss enough messages, comments and threads we will be blocked from everyone we have ever known just because we can't figure out the ever changing social networking monopoly. We will be outcasts of the cyber society but without the millions of dollars that Mr. Zuckerberg has to buy new friends.

My trivial complaints about FB are nothing compared to the people that are being asked to release their passwords to current or potential employers. When did it become acceptable to invade someones privacy? Are you no longer afforded the luxury of a personal life? If you have placed the necessary blocks that your page is not available to the public, can not be accessed by anyone other than your friends, then I don't think anyone has the right to request your password to access your account. On the other hand, if you are stupid enough to make your page, pictures or anything public and someone sees it then that is your own damn fault! I might not know how to find every one's news feed but I know how to make mine private.

So to all my Facebook friends, I am sorry. Sorry that I am a fuddy duddy. Sorry that I can't figure these lists out. Sorry that I haven't responded when you thought I would, thought I should because I am not sure I could. I will keep trying, but in the meantime I am an ace when it comes to emails and as long as one of my kids isn't using my cell phone to destroy a distant planet I can text like a champ!

One of THOSE Days

Had a crappy day yesterday...

work - hate waiting on people.

kids - tired of same arguments just do your______, fill in blank with whatever, it is all the same.

husband - why the hell do we pay for a cell phone if you never answer it and don't use it to return calls?

car - backed my car into husband's car trying to get out of driveway resulting in scratches and dings for everybody!

sports - went to the sport I usually don't go to because I had to present something for work that if I didn't spend all day waiting on people I could have done earlier in the day and of course the sport I didn't go to that kid had an awesome practice, got to play a new position that he has the skills to do and I missed the whole damn thing!

project - worked on it all day (most of which was waiting for phone call) and then forgot the presentation at home and only realized after I was half way to my destination, had to turn around making me late for EVERYTHING!

dog - we have a very old dog that got overheated yesterday so I had to sit with him for 15 minutes while he licked ice cubes from my hand until he cooled down and his eyes stopped rolling into the back of his head. Scary.

bugs - daughter got her first bee sting, which I have an allergy to, which resulted in a late night trip to the drugstore and a $12 purchase of children's benadryl and a late evening watching her sting area and making sure her breathing remained unrestricted. More scary.

more bugs - hate ants. All of them. Hate that family leaves food out on counter even after I have told them 1000 times that we have ants and everything must be kept clean and put away.

house - damn disaster area, laundry pile has requested its own zip code.

blog - have spent the last 2 hours writing various forms of this blog only to have the computer dump all the work I had done. About to throw all electrical devices out the window.

SCREW THIS!

CRAWLING BACK INTO BED AND WATCHING MINDLESS CHICK FLICKS FOR THE REMAINDER OF THE DAY.

Summer Vacation to Do List

Summer Vacation is rapidly approaching and being the good mom that I am (cue the uncomfortable cough and advert your eyes) I have begun to dream up all the wonderful things we are going to do.

Then I stopped laughing and came up with the following Summer Vacation to do lists:

What I say we are going to do

VS.

What we are really going to do

What I say: We are going to go to the beach a lot this summer!

What will really happen: We will hit the community pool at least once a week but I will throw in new pool floaties to distract everyone from the fact we are not at an actual beach. Because let's face it, I really don't have any desire to partake in the hours of planning and lugging crap that is involved with an actual trip to the beach.


What I say: We will have all your friends over for a fun filled slumber party with games and activities.

What will really happen: At the last minute I will text some of your girlfriends to come over and I will order a pizza and soda and you can play Wii games and jump on the trampoline. To make it special I will let you all pick out your own donuts in the morning, sufficiently sugaring everyone up just in time for their parents to pick them up. My lack of sleep for a night should equate to everyone suffering with me the next day.


What I say: We will go for bike rides in the park.

What will really happen: I will call my friends and have them bring thier kids to the park and we will watch you ride your bikes around while we try to not die of heat exposure. I will make a great effort to not forget to pack extra water for everyone but being that it is summer break, Mommy's brain will be taking a little vacation of its own so don't count on me remembering much.


What I say: We will go have lunch with Daddy at work.

What will really happen: There will be some lunches out, it will just be without Daddy because he doesn't like the same restaurants that Mommy does, but Mommy's girlfriends do and if they are lucky we will let the kids tag along


What I say: We will read a ton of books together, expanding our vocabulary and challenging our minds during the summer break so we will be well preparred for the new school year.

What will really happen: We won't touch a book until 3 days before school starts and will try to cram the entire suggested reading list in 2 days. Note to self - check to see if they have Clif Notes for Captain Underpants books.


What I say: We will go on a fun filled family camping trip.

What will really happen: Kids will sleep out on the master bedroom balcony and we will leave the door open so we can hear them. If they really want the outdoor experience they can pitch a tent on the lawn but be forewarned, I have no control over when the sprinklers come on so camp at your own risk.


What I say: We will visit multicultural and mind altering museums this summer.

What will really happen: We will look up stuff on the iPad and Wikipedia from the comfort of our own sofa. Occasionally we will throw in a history related movie or TV show. Heck, I learn something every time I watch Phineus and Ferb so I am certain the kids are as well.


What I say: We will have the best summer ever.

What will really happen: We will have the best summer ever!

Rock N Roll Hall of Shame

Axel Rose doesn't want to be inducted into the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame along side his former band mates of Guns & Roses. Really, that is his right to not want to accept the honor. Do I think he is an idiot for turning it down? Hell yes. There is the saying that any publicity is good publicity and by the looks of it he is in need of any publicity he can get. Although, one might make the argument that by rejecting the honor (in a very wordy letter) he is actually milking his Hall of Fame moment even better than if he would of just peacefully accepted the award and moved on. We might just look back on this moment and think his move was pure genius. It's a long shot, but just maybe.

What I do have an issue with is that while reading the first blurb on this subject a writer actually stated that the lack of Guns & Roses was a major disappointment for the ceremony. They would have been the headliners. WTF? Other inductees include the Beastie Boys and Red Hot Chili Peppers. While I don't want to disrespect GNR I hate to say that for me they were just doing what other hair bands of the time were doing. They did it well, but I was never surprised by their musical offerings and they were not unique.

On the other hand, the Beastie Boys reinvented what we thought about rap. They broke stereotypes, broke the mold and challenged what we thought was the norm. My kids still sing "Girls" and have no idea that the song is decades old. Thankfully, they also don't get what most of the words mean and I hope to keep them in the dark a little while longer. The Chili Peppers changed my world when I was in middle school. I often watched a little rinky dink public access cable show out of Boulder CO and one night there was Anthony and Flea telling me that "Real Men Don't Kill Coyotes". Holly crap! I wasn't sure what I was watching but even in 8th grade I knew that this was something beyond cool. It turns out, it was the stuff of legends!

I went back to try to find the article that stated the disappointment in GNR not playing, but I can't find it for the life of me. Maybe the author realized their error and withdrew it from the main stream news releases. Regardless, the damage for me was already done and my poor husband was subject to my rants last night about the entire subject. Thankfully for both of us he completely agreed with me. People have divorced over much more trivial stuff than musical compatibility...just ask Kim Kardashian.

So to all the 2012 Rock N Roll Hall of Fame inductees, Congratulations. To the Beastie Boys and Red Hot Chili Peppers, thank you for all the wonderful memories, milestones and music. You are truly legends in our home and I am sure in many homes across the world!

Graduation...Elementary School Style?

Last night we returned home from swim practice a little later than normal because of a pleasant pit stop to see some friends we haven't seen in a while. The visit was completely wonderful, but the ensuing chaos from the late evening was almost impossible to overcome. Although, almost quickly turned into utterly impossible when I checked the phone messages at 10pm last night. "Hello 5th Grade Parents. Just a reminder that 5th grade picture day is tomorrow." REMINDER??? I never got the first memo!! You have got to be kidding me!

Quickly I sprang into Uber Mom mode and addressed what I knew would be the most pressing issue..."honey, what do you want to wear?" I knew her choice would not be something that would be clean, easy to find or possibly even under the same roof we were currently standing under. As much as I love my girl child, she does have a knack for making some things impossibly difficult. Luckily for me she knew exactly what shirt, knew where it was but it did need a trip into the washer...STAT!

With the wardrobe issue solved, the outfit in the washer and time ticking by at a rapid pace I sent everyone off to bed. In my head I figured we could tackle any other issues in the morning but right now we were 1 1/2 hours past our normal bed time. What I didn't figure was that 1 1/2 hours was going to be made up somewhere and it happened to be the next morning. We all woke up late which didn't help the homework that didn't get done, the load of wet picture clothes in the washer or the fact that showers were skipped the night before. I quickly found myself not tackling any issues, but having the crap beat out of me by Father Time and Murphy and his frigging law! What could go wrong was going wrong and fast!

We did manage to make it to school, in the rain, and about 5 minutes late. She had the outfit she wanted, but we didn't have time to curl her hair. It was clean and blown straight and I thought very pretty, but I could tell she was a little disappointed. I hate when they get disappointed for the simple things and they manage to blow off the big issues, but I guess that is a luxury of youth. What I wasn't prepared for was her anger and frustration when school was over. "Mom, do you know what the pictures were? Do You?" Well, no I didn't. I really don't know what 5th Grade pictures consist of. "They made me put on an ugly GOLD gown. They couldn't even see my Stanford shirt!" Like the good mom that I am, I quickly jumped on her band wagon because I had just spent the last 12 hours trying to wash an outfit that no one even saw. Yes, I was pissed too!

What didn't help matters much was that I had spent the whole day working on 5th grade graduation projects. In the last couple of years I have really stepped back from volunteering, but I thought it would be nice to help with the last elementary event my daughter would have. What I didn't realize was that I was getting involved with a week long celebration of gigantic proportions. This is ELEMENTARY SCHOOL GRADUATION PEOPLE! There is a Pool Day, Field Day, Softball Game and Yearbook Day, Movie Day and an actual Ceremony Day. I don't even remember doing this much for my high school graduation, although that whole time frame is a little blurry for a multitude of reasons. Is she going to expect the same amount of hoopla for middle school?  God forbid what she is going to expect for high school. Screw a college fund, I better start socking away to make it through the graduation.

The man power that is needed to pull off these extraordinary events is just as over the top as the actual events. There are committees for each day, and some days have multiple committees. My rough estimate is that for our graduating class of about 140 students there are at least 75 parent volunteers feverishly working behind the scenes in hopes of making their young children's graduation experience memorable. With the amount of time, effort and money that is going into graduation, this better be the BEST WEEK EVER! Although, you have to remember who the audience is...a group of budding pubescent pre-teens in the throws of hormonal angst that would rather be caught dead than thinking anything their parents were involved in creating is even sort of cool. I fully expect that at the end of the week we will be lucky to get a collective "Yeah, it was alright".

For my daughter, graduation events better start picking up real soon. She is already a little disenchanted with the entire graduation scene based on the gold gown experience. For an almost 11 year old she is quite astute in her conclusion that her input or opinion regarding the entire experience doesn't really factor in. She is determined to proudly wear her Stanford shirt (that we went to the actual campus to get for her) at her graduation since she had to wear that stupid gold gown for her picture. Being the supportive mom I am, I smile and shake my head in agreement all the time trying to figure out when to drop the bomb that they will all be wearing the same shirt for graduation...so sayeth the 5th Grade Graduation powers that be.

I got a feeling we might not make it through her first graduation experience unscathed.

Spring Break 2012...

...not a dang thing got done! Including my blog.

Sorry I have been absent lately but it was spring break for the kids, the husband took some time off and the stomach flu tore through our house like a tornado in a trailer park. Each of these events warrants an entire blog of its own but I will try to condense them into one so as not to bore you.

First off, Spring Break. These words are both joy and torture to the ears. On one hand you have the lazy mornings, lack of alarm clocks, free spirited schedule and no torture sessions disguised as homework. On the other hand you have TWO WHOLE WEEKS OF FAMILY TOGETHERNESS. Don't get me wrong, I love and adore my family but like all good things a little moderation goes a long way. Who in their right mind decided that two weeks off of school in the middle of the semester was a good idea? For how much they push and remind me that my kids need to be at school and on time every day they are sure liberal with the vacation time during the year. We had three weeks off for Christmas and another week for Thanksgiving. Looking at the calendar, I don't think there is a single month that the kids don't have some kind of vacation/long weekend deal going. I can assure you, this was not the case when I was in school...walking both directions...in the snow...uphill both ways. Kids today are so spoiled.

Then in the middle of this wonderful vacation my husband takes a few days off for some family together time and a road trip. Now, with gas prices what they are these days you might think we are nuts for driving anywhere, but our daughter qualified to enter a huge invitational swim meet in the San Francisco area so off we went. To ease the pain at the pump we took our Mini Cooper. I love that car, but let's be honest, when the four of us show up for a 5 day swim meet with all our luggage, food, chairs and swim gear we look like rejects from Ringling Bros. Circus. The amazement on people's faces as we unfold ourselves from the interior of the Mini is hilarious. The fact that we are all still talking (minimally and through ground teeth) is nothing short of miraculous. But that little car gets almost 40 miles to the gallon so we suck it up and suck it in because we will continue to take that car everywhere we need to go.

Our spring break trip went off without a hitch until the very end. When I say very end, I truly mean the very end. After hitting Southern California traffic, therefore turning a 6 hour drive into an 8 hour drive, we finally pulled into our driveway. Oh the joy to be home! No one told me we brought a tornado with us because just as we pulled in and were putting the car into park, our daughter began to vomit. A lot. She was like Mt. Vesuvius of the gummy worm, twizler and twix world with a create your own pancakes on the side. Poor girl was done and it was a comedy of errors that we got her inside, cleaned up and in bed in between the continued upheavals of everything she had ingested the entire weekend.

She was the first soldier to go down, but not our last. No sooner was she feeling a bit more perky and our boy was heaving as well. Like all good illnesses it appeared to be getting worse with each new victim. The poor kid had it coming out both ends. This led to a new vocabulary word at our house, the Bart. Where you barf and shart all at the same time. Poor kid though everything coming out of his behind was going to be a fart but they almost always packed a little extra gift for him. Not to mention the huge pile of illness laundry for Mom to tend to. Then the husband got it and in true male fashion he toughed it out but was a bit of a crab apple to deal with. They say PMS is bad to deal with but I say a man with the flu is far moodier and unpredictable.

I knew it was only a matter of time and I would no longer be able to dodge the flu bullet. In true Mom fashion, I spent my last bit of energy cleaning up the house. I knew that once I was down for the count that the rest of them wouldn't do a thing to keep the house in even a semi-decent shape so I figured the cleanup wouldn't be as bad if the house started off in good shape. Oh how wrong I was! Of course, being the last one to get the flu made mine the longest to last and when I came out of the cloud I walked right into the remaining rubble that was once my home. I still don't know how they manage to make such a big mess in a relatively short amount of time, but manage they did and they managed very well.

So yesterday was the first day back for everyone and yes, that was me you saw in the middle of the street dancing a jig in celebration. I was so happy I threw myself a laundry, dishes and dusting party that I think will last all week. I know how to party like a rock star...a rock star Mom that is!