Facing the harsh reality

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We just got back from a week long vacation in Mexico.

Like last year, we spent a week sunning, swimming, stuffing our faces, napping, and waking up to start the cycle all over again.

As is the case with all good things, it was over too fast.

Even though I had gotten to the point of just eating fruit for breakfast because I simply could not stuff myself three times a day for a whole week…. I still enjoyed it.

Coming home for me meant remembering how to cook, ugh. And before that, going to the grocery store and buying food to do something with at home.

The kids and I walked through Trader Joe’s in a daze, them asking why can’t we just live in Mexico, me trying to find that secret aisle that will have everything I need to make fast, easy, delicious, healthy dinners for the next week without having to THINK about it.

The 4 year old probably got hit the hardest since we’ve been back home.

It didn’t take her more than a couple days on vacation to recognize what “all inclusive” means in terms of eating options…. and before long she stopped going up to the buffet with me all together. Instead, she chose to relax at the table, and airily directed me to bring her back an assortment of things to try.

Today, on our first morning back, she is requesting sushi, chocolate pastry, and maybe a waffle if it’s not too much trouble.

The stark reality of cold cereal and orange juice left her looking a little shell shocked…..

 

 

 

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Identity theft

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I’m sitting on the floor as Jenna paces around me, trying to get the boys to come up from the basement.

She yells for them to come up, they ignore her.

Then she has a great idea.

She whispers to me, “I’m pretending I’m you….”

Yells again:

“I’m momma!!, Come upstairs!”

Big smile on her face, this is definitely going to work.

Looks at me, leans over and whispers again:

“Don’t worry….you’re still you….”

Whew!

Death by Python

 

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haydensanimalfacts.com

 

Headline today…… missing man found inside body of giant python.

I’m not sure how it happened. This guy was a farmer, his boots and some tools etc.. were found where he was supposed to be working, but he was missing. Someone noticed a really fat python in the area soon after. Snake was cut open, and there he is….. the missing guy.

Not sure how I feel about that. Obviously it sucks that he was eaten, but I do feel bad for the python. Does anyone feel bad for the snake? He didn’t know better…and must have been really hungry because I read that it’s pretty rare for them to eat people.

Now curious, I Googled just how rare is it…..

Ugh. Although pretty rare, it does happen. Even if your python doesn’t completely eat you, it can attack you and more often attack pets and children because they are smaller.

The python in question was 23 feet long. One website reported that usually the shoulders of adult humans are too wide to swallow, but if the snake gets big enough… everyone is fair game. In fact, smaller animals no longer have as much appeal at that point because the paltry calories aren’t worth the effort.

Sometimes a greedy python might misjudge…. there is record of a Burmese python trying to swallow a whole alligator, but actually BURSTING in the process, and dying as it tried to eat it’s prey. Gluttony on a whole new level….

I have no idea why this interests me… or why I’m sharing…. consider it a public service announcement in case you didn’t get alerted on your Facebook feed.

Do it like a girl

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I took the kids to see a movie today, and noticed something while watching the previews.

Have you noticed there are more movies with leading female roles? Strong, tough, hard-ass females? There is some wonder-woman movie coming out, looks GREAT. And some kind of transformers movie, with a strong, young female lead. In the preview she’s actually saying how she used to get made fun of for doing things like a girl…. fighting like a girl, running like a girl. As she’s talking, you see her basically saving the world all by herself.

The preview ends with her saying yeah, she does do all those things like a girl…. don’t you?

Oh! Good one!

I really love that we are seeing this, that my daughters are seeing this. While feminism still sounds like a bad word to many, there are more people understanding what it means as well. I’m still figuring it out…

I still find myself saying things like “he was crying like a little girl….”, which is obviously something I would be kidney punched for if said in the wrong company.

It’s something I need to work on.

The other day, I was seeing a patient…. a very ornery older man, and at one point I called him “honey”. He wasted NO time telling me that he is NOT my honey. I thought it was a great lesson for myself, because as much as I don’t like strange men saying that to me, I somehow thought that my being a female, maybe also a mom, gave me the right to be that familiar with someone. Because it must be clear that I wasn’t hitting on him, or trying to make him feel inferior…. cause I’m a female, and therefore just comforting and maternal, right?!

Why should I just expect him to think that?

For all he knows, I’m some lecherous woman who has a thing for very sickly and elderly men.

Clearly I need to rethink my view on many things.  A comforting hug to me could be seen as a furtive grope to someone else. Yikes.

Now, in this case, his virtue was in no danger from me. He didn’t seem to feel threatened or uncomfortable….. just a guy, looking for any way to express his distaste for all human kindness… but this is the closest I’ve ever been  to the other side of that pervy encounter that so many females have endured. So I’ll use it as a lesson anyway, and think twice before I’m so generous with my “honey’s and sweeties”…

Chalk it up to this equality business.

 

 

How much do I love vomit? Let me count the ways…

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The past month or two, the youngest two are competing for title of “sickest kid”. This isn’t sick in a good way,this is just sick, regular sick.

Highlights include Sammy missing three days of school in a ROW, followed by Jenna waking up in the middle of the night to vomit in bed (two nights in a row).

I’ve mentioned vomit before, as I’ve had plenty of run-ins due to my excessive progeny. I used to call it puke, but I’m feeling less than friendly and I think vomit is a little more reserved. So it knows I’m not very happy with it.

Two nights of complete bed changes, bathing and hair washing, you think you know what’s up… you think you’ll be ready next time 3am rears it’s ugly, nauseous head.

But again, vomit likes to surprise us. Poor kid is sitting on the potty the next day and ends up vomiting all down the front of herself, getting the stuff everywhere in the bathroom EXCEPT in the toilet.

It’s fine, really. She’s a trooper, and thankfully that ended her surprise attacks of emesis…for now…..

Today, I’m here to report that we have moved on to Strep Throat. It’s official, and she gets to start the pink medicine we all cherished in childhood. I have to fight the urge to take a swig just to see if it’s the same as I remember.

People are starting to forget about us though… as we’ve been trying to avoid all human contact as soon as new symptoms start to show up so we don’t infect the earth.

Playdates, birthday parties, any social activity…all on hold…. every weekend we end up isolating ourselves to save our loved ones from the illness we have been wallowing in.

Uh oh.

As I type she has just announced to me that her belly hurts and taken up position lying on the kitchen floor. Not sure what is going to happen next…. but I’m considering a plastic wrap to cover the entire house. Just to be safe.

Wish us luck friends!

 

 

 

 

 

No longer a doormat

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I am a different person than I was say, 20 years ago.

I mean besides the obvious differences that are affected by things like age and gravity and too much chocolate (ok, too much chocolate…that’s not actually a thing…..)

I was shy, and quiet, and I really wanted people to like me. I think I tried to change things about myself to suit others, and never thought much about what I actually liked or wanted.

Grade school years weren’t my best. Punctuated with moments of being teased about my clothes, my shoes, my hair, I just didn’t know how to defend myself. I lacked the bitchiness that girls these days seem to need to survive. I didn’t know how to respond to bullies, or people who weren’t exactly bullies, but just wanted to get their way.

I walked away from confrontation, which is not always a bad thing….. but even when I should have defended myself, or my ideas…. I didn’t.

And then, I had my first child.

Suddenly, I had the purpose I lacked. I had someone to fight FOR.

I remember when I realized how much I’d changed….  when my oldest was 3, I came to pick her up at preschool. She was in a large room with most other kids waiting for their parents to come. Seeing me, she got up and hugged some of the friends near her goodbye.

A teacher on the other side of the room yelled out for my child to stop disrupting the kids and stop hugging right now. She was very bitchy about it.

And then I felt the rage. didn’t help that I was pregnant and possibly hormonal.

The old me would have apologized and walked out of there probably angry at that teacher for yelling about something so silly, but more angry at myself for not defending my child.

The new me, the person I had become COULD NOT walk out of there. Not without looking that teacher in the eye, and asking how hugging a friend goodbye was hurting anyone? Was she really going to tell my child that she couldn’t give anyone a hug goodbye!!?? It didn’t seem to disrupt anyone but that teacher.

She stuttered, and backpedaled. And said she was sorry, and of course she could hug her friends. And so she did. My daughter  decided that she should probably then hug every damn kid in that room goodbye…..

And so the doormat phase ended…..  thanks to my firstborn who taught me not only how to stick up for her because I loved her so damn much, but to love myself too. Because SHE loved me that much. And guess what??? I still love her that much, and more.

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Over my head over here

 

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Looks are deceiving

 

I find the kids really annoying today.  It’s true. Kids ARE annoying.

Usually we all manage to put up with each other, as I’m sure I might possibly annoy them too.

But today…..

It has been a day of them egging each other on, teasing and poking each other, being loud and obnoxious in public….. Today they are the kids that people who don’t have kids see, and then think to themselves “I’m so glad I decided not to have kids”.

I think the last straw was in the hardware store. I just needed to get ONE THING. Well, two things.  A battery for the fire alarm that won’t stop chirping (also annoying) and some hardware to fix my towel rack.

As I walk with them, I stay between them so they can’t poke and tickle each other and try to keep their volume to a minimum. Jenna refuses to walk in a straight line, and at one point just collapses on the floor in a giggling heap. Pulling her up is impossible, she keeps her knees bent and won’t bear her own weight.

They find this hilarious. Me, not so much.

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My whispered threats of beatings once we are out of the public eye are not taken seriously, they know I’m bluffing.

They’ve reached that point of silliness that just doesn’t stop. We’ve all been there. The point where the laughter just doesn’t end, no matter what danger it may put them in.  They needed something to snap them out of it, a shock to the system.

Getting them buckled into their seats, I see the answer.

I had just bought them each a small box of valentine candy at the chocolate store. I glared at them, grabbed those boxes, and took them to the front seat with me.

I ignore their renewed attempts to annoy me. YES, they were now doing it on purpose! I open a box, and start eating it piece by piece, keeping my eyes ahead of me. Suddenly they aren’t laughing so hard.

“You can’t eat our candy!”

“Oh YES I can. I bought it. It’s MY candy.”

Seething from the back. From Jenna especially, you don’t mess with her chocolate.

To further illustrate how I am the boss of them, I pull into the Starbucks line. Order myself a tea and NO CAKE POPS.

I drive away and smile to myself as they sit, stunned, in the back.

Jenna is absolutely outraged.

She starts on a rant about how I don’t even love them because I took their candy and I’m not a good mom. Of course I have to return with how good kids listen to their parents and they weren’t being good for me.

“So, you don’t love us!” She’s not asking. She’s accusing.

“You don’t love us and maybe you don’t want to be our mom!”

I’m amused now, chocolate and tea has restored my humor. So I respond:

“I never said I don’t love you, are you saying you want a different mom?”

She doesn’t come out and say it, but she’s heading in that direction. I get a speech filled with 4  year old logic about how it’s physically impossible for a parent to actually love a child if they take candy from them. And maybe it’s time for us to part ways. Not that she doesn’t love me, but maybe we need a break. And besides, if I send her to a different house, they’ll probably have a dog.

I promised her there would not be a dog. She’s stuck with me, and her chocolate was delicious.