I planned something witty, but this is what you’re getting June 30, 2008

  I wanted to write something up to my usual standards of mediocrity, but my body is not cooperating. My aunt Flo has stopped by for a visit and she is beating the crap out of me. So I am curled up in the fetal position with my bag of dark chocolate M&Ms. It is possible that I have consumed half of a bag this evening. And this after hearing a wonderful talk today by my friend Heather about controlling your cravings. I am just going to assume she forgot to put an caveat in there that there are certain times of the month where that just flies completely out the window and then you are free to eat your weight in chocolate.

And then I hung out with Madonna’s dad… June 28, 2008

  Sorry for the lack of post yesterday. I am up in Traverse City, Michigan for a wedding his weekend. Without kids!! The hubby performed the ceremony and I sang. Also, if you need a couple flower girls, I got those too. We should start a business.

The wedding was actually gorgeous. It was at a winery overlooking the bay. The weather was mostly gorgeous except for a brief torrential downpour about an hour before the ceremony. The ceremony was very unique and sentimental. The hubby and my parts went off without a hitch. Did I mention we are without the kids? Does anything else remotely matter?

Well, one thing. The vineyard we were at? Ciccone Vineyards. Yeah, that meant nothing to me either. Until somebody reminded me that Madonna’s full name was Madonna Ciccone. Actually Madonna Louise Ciccone Ritchie (although reportedly that last name might be in jeopardy…too.much.People.magazine). And this is her dad’s vineyard. So I am thinking that is kinda cool and I am wandering around the grounds preparing for the wedding when an older man comes over and asks me if I will be needing a stool. Now this man, looks like some sort of hired gardener so I think nothing of it. Then someone tells me that was Madonna’s dad.

Call me crazy, but I was expecting this.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

That’s an Odd Place to Keep Your Pickles June 22, 2008

   Remember this? Well, Miss Hannah has struck again. Yet, Lily keeps wanting to take baths with her. This time, I put them in the tub and then laid down outside the bathroom door with a delightful copy of Home magazine. I look up occasionally to make sure no one has drown and that most of the water is staying in the tub (no one had and it wasn’t).

Suddenly, Lily screams “Emergency!!” On a quick side note, she has been going to Safety Town for a week so we are experiencing an even larger flair for the dramatic. The two girls jump out of the tub. How Hannah managed to scale the edge, I have no idea, but it could be because she was 5 pounds lighter than she had been a few minutes before.

Lily somehow manages to emerge unscathed and begins breathlessly recalling how it all went down.

“Mom, Hannah and I were just playing and all of a sudden she just handed me a pickle…but then I realized it wasn’t a pickle and I jumped out.”

The hubby and I of course burst into laughter at the thought of Hannah somehow producing a Vlasic out of thin air while bathing. Lily catches onto the fact that she has somehow been funny and proceeds to repeat the pickle story over and over for the next 10 minutes. I shower off the kids in the other shower and the hubby (my knight in shining armor) is once again left with the fabulous task of fishing out the poo and cleaning out the tub. He is always there to get us out of a pickle

Vacation’s Ups and Downs June 8, 2008

 Today was the longest day of my life. I may or may not be prone to exaggeration. We are in Chicago for the weekend and a bit of next week so my husband can attend his industry’s yearly trade show. Which has always and will always fall somewhere way to close to my birthday. Since we lived in Chicago for 5 years, we have lots of people to see and lots of things we want to do. Most of these just happen to take us into the evening past the girls bedtime.

I don’t know about you, but when I stay up way to late past my bedtime, the only logical response is to sleep in until noon the next day. Someone forgot to give Hannah the memo. Plus we have lost and hour in the time zones meaning when she stays up an hour and a half past her bedtime, it is really 2 1/2 hours past bedtime. Yet for some odd reason, she is up at 6 am (which I suppose is technically 7 am) the next morning. In case you are wondering, that means the meltdowns start at 10. So we had a bit of a long day cause I am pretty sure the lack of sleep is catching up with Lily too. Not to mention her parents who are a bit on the cranky side.

I am just going to give you a little bit of free advice. Don’t plan a trip to a different time zone when your hubby is working long hours and your kids are constantly over tired and you are often times stuck in Chicago traffic with them whining incessantly in the back seat when you are smack dab in the middle of some major PMS. Unless you come upon an overturned Hershey’s chocolate truck, you might have a bit of a rotten day.

Thankfully, we had a BBQ with a handful of our most favorite people this evening. People who know me so well as to greet me at the door with a glass of Chardonney. Our friends just happen to have gotten a new trampoline which was jumped on by Lily for 3 hours straight pausing only long enough to shove in a hot dog, which now that I think of it, it’s amazing things went so well on that thing. Did I mention it is 85 degrees out with ridiculously high humidity? I have never seen her little face so red. Thankfully, they are also the kind of friends that let you hose your kids off with the hose before taking them home. Did I also mention we left one hour after the kids bedtime (which of course translates to 2 hours). Tomorrow should be delightful.

And it’s done (for 3 whole months) June 3, 2008

  Remember this? Yeah, that was in October. Tonight, it finally is done (actually, I could be jinxing them cause as I am writing this, the game is not quite over, but I firmly believe God has heard and will answer my hockey widow prayers). As a good wife should, I listened to the game on NHL radio while my husband was out watching the game. I even cheered a little. But I am not gonna lie, I cheered mostly because the season is finally done. And frankly, now that I am not getting facials out of the deal, I just don’t have it in me to fake excitement about this sport any longer.

Can you imagine if there was “musical season.” It lasts 9 months. Every month we went to a live show and I watched one on TV every other night. Then the playoffs came and I started peppering every conversation with statistics about the Tony awards and the eternal debate over whether Bernadette Peters was better as Annie Oakley or the witch in Into the Woods (way too tough to call). I would put a Rogers and Hammerstein bumper sticker in my back window of my car. Plead with the hubby for a room to hang my movie posters from Chicago and Grease.

*Poop it just got all tied up with 33 seconds left in the game. COME ON WINGS!!!!!

I am doing it. I will call it Broadway 08-09 (it needs a way snappier title, cause that one is lame-o). Whose with me. Ok, so maybe your thing isn’t musicals (which is just sad, cause you are missin’ out on some spontaneous breaking out of singing and perfect choreography in the middle of an otherwise monotonous day). But what sport do you suffer through and what would you like to equally make your hubby suffer through?(baseball widows you are equally suffering through a season that never ends- chime in) Cause I am thinkin’ come September we launch operation “See how long this season is that you make us suffer through, now here is a taste of your own medicine.” Again with the title…you can’t really fit that on a t-shirt. And make no mistake, there will be t-shirts.

*You have to be kidding me. THREE OVERTIMES LATER and the Wings have lost. That means there is yet another game. Too late to write new post. Grrrr.

I’m Flying…Again May 26, 2008

 Do you know who this is? She is either a genius or tool of Satan. I have been riding on the fence on that genius/Satan thing for a few years now. I try her, then she starts to frustrate me with her demands for a clean sink and needing to wear my shoes in my house and her harping at me to go to bed at 10 pm. Yeah, wouldn’t that be nice?

But, I have been feeling like the “home” in homemaker has been falling by the wayside so I am back on the Flylady wagon. I have discovered that she is slightly less annoying than before with a little less email clutter (although enough with the testimonials-I get it, you’re fabulous). And my house is staying relatively clean. So much so that when people come over I don’t have to do a mad dash to stash everything. And I will admit, it is nice to wake up to no dishes in the sink.

Still, you know those compliments that are totally meant to be compliments, but somewhere in there is a tiny bit of an insult. Like, “Wow, you look amazing.” (cause you normally look like something the cat dragged home. Or “Holy cow, you have lost some weight!” (cause before you could have just slapped Goodyear on the side of you and called it a day).

Well today I got a few, “Wow, your house looks amazing.” Which leads me to believe people have previously believed we were living in a filth hole. Or that I was sitting around eating bon-bons all day instead of tending to the house. It is more likely I was up to my eyeballs in coupons trying to score a good CVS deal or trying to track down my long lost childhood friend on Facebook. Actually some days it takes all that I have just to keep up with the dishwasher and the laundry (the cycle NEVER ends) with a pause here and there to yell at the kids. And by yell, I mean gently and lovingly remind them that, “YOU DO NOT SIT ON YOUR SISTER!!”

But now with my fantastic system in place, I expect my house to remain clean for a good 4 days until I have grown again frustrated with that purple mad woman and let it go back to its usual sub par state of cleanliness. So frankly, you have a 4 day window in which to come over unannounced. After that you best call first so I can throw all the dirty dishes into the guest room.

Best of Buddies (for 20 minutes anyway) May 5, 2008

 The hubby had a meeting tonight. He came home for a quick dinner at 5, but was gone by 5:30. Which left me staring at 2 hours with the just me and the kids after a long day of….you guessed it, just me and the kids. Suddenly, I felt the four walls closing in on me and a trip to the park seemed like a fabulous idea.

Here is my take on the park. When your kids are old enough to climb and play without you standing over them, the park is great. When they are too little for that, it just seems like a lot of work. And the swings. Clearly a tool of Satan. How long can a mom stand there pushing. I have told my kids they were broken before just to avoid the constant, “Can you push me?” “Ok, I’m done.” “Can you push me?” game without end. Amen.

Today thankfully the kids were anti-swing. I think God knew it had been a long day. Hannah was quite content to go down the same slide 500 times in a row. The climb to the top was a bit scary at times, but Hannah seems to think she has it mastered. Lily was being a sport about playing with her 2 year old sister, but I could tell that was probably going to get old quickly.

Enter in adorable red headed 4 year old girl. Not sure where her parents were, but no matter- Lily had a playmate. They immediately began pretending that all the slides were roller coasters. Within minutes they were holding hands and running around giggling at inside jokes. I was trying to listen in on this new found friendship, but was too busy preventing Hannah from careening off the side of the playground equipment.

This is one of my favorite things about 4 year old girls (and maybe boys, but my experience there is limited). Whenever we are at a public play area, they seem to find each other and immediately enter into some elaborate make believe land and play like they have known each other all their lives. I have seen it at the library, the mall, the park, the pool, wherever 2 or more 4 years old are gathered- there will be pretending and probably princesses will be involved. Or maybe Dora.

Sadly, something went awry and she went running off crying. I think there was an injury, but I am 90% sure my child didn’t cause it. I tried to find out what had happened, but she was on a mission, I am assuming to find her parents. Lily was sad that her PBFF (Park Best Friend Forever©) had disappeared. I was just a tiny bit glad, cause I needed to head home and was thinking things might get ugly if I tried to separate the two of them.

So PBFF, whever you are (hopefully with your parents, seriously not trying to judge, but where were you people?) I hope that you are OK. And I owe you a debt of gratitude for making my solo park outing a little more manageable. If only you could have stuck around to entertain Lily during bathtime so she wouldn’t have been so enthralled with “helping” me bathe her sister.

An Excellent Solution April 28, 2008

 Thanks to all of you who felt my pain with the loss of my dishwasher. We are still trying out some solutions and I am confident we are almost there. To those of you who live without dishwashers on a regular basis…I just paused and gave you a round of applause. Seriously, I am impressed. You are the wind beneath my wings…or something.

And then there was my mother and her big girl panties. If you missed that comment, it was just delightful. Thankfully I have found a solution to the pile of dishes I have been avoiding in my sink. It involves my mom and her big girl panties (not that my mom is big-in no way am I implying that, she is tiny). I fed her dinner and SHE washed my dishes. Before you think that isn’t right that I would make my mom wash our dishes, I should point out that I did feed her quite well, allow her to play with her grandchildren, and help her navigate her way around town today during several phone calls as she was a bit lost (and directionally challenged).

So I am pretty much thinkin’ I am daughter of the year. Oh, and thanks to you too mom. Dinner is at 6 tomorrow night. Same time, same bat channel.

A Catastrophe of Monumental Proportions April 27, 2008

  I don’t want to alarm you, but we have had a major problem here in the Diaper Diary household. It began Friday night and after much investigation it appears it isn’t immediately fixable. I am coping as well as can be expected, but it has been a tense couple of days.

Our dishwasher is broken. Wait, let that sink in (sink, get it-that ones for you Mom). Do you realize what this means? We have just gotten a new dishwasher. Her name is….me. Actually that is a complete lie. We have just been letting the dishes pile up in the sink. De Nile ain’t just a river in Egypt my friends.

My wonderful father-in-law has been by a few times today to try and fix the problem and we are definitely making progress, but we are still not in the clear. I do a lot of housework well…OK, mediocre at best, but I don’t DO dishes. And a new dishwasher is not how I wanted to spend our tax rebate. Unless it came with a matching stainless steel refrigerator and stove. How much are those rebates again?

To my readers who don’t have dishwashers: you have my deepest sympathy. My hat is off to you cause I wouldn’t last more than a few days. Actually, I am thinking I would throw all that “Earth Day” stuff out the window and just go with all paper and plastic. I would buy some trees to plant in Africa to offset my carbon footprint of course. You can do that right?

Apparently when donuts are involved, all bets are off April 11, 2008

 Well, we are back. Man, vacations are nice, but sometimes there really is no place like home. Cause we are tired of being in a car. And ready to eat something resembling a vegetable. Seriously, it is incredibly difficult to eat healthy when you are on the road. I know it is technically possible, but it seems like a lot of work and vacations are supposed to be relaxing sooo…unhealthy eating it is.

You know what happens when you eat unhealthy foods for 4 days straight? Your pants get horribly tight. But since you only packed one pair, they are nice and loose by the 4th day. So, you know what else happens when you eat badly for 4 days straight? Gas…bad gas. Not me of course, but the hubby. And we are trapped in the car with him…for 3 hours.

So Lily begins giggling (cause toots are funny when your 4…or 34) and calling her daddy a “stink machine.” While this is going on the hubby pulls into a Dunkin Donuts to grab a coffee (cause according to the hubby they have the best). Lily sees the Dunkin Donuts logo and immediately starts asking for donuts.

The hubby says, “I don’t think I can get a donut for somebody who says my toots are stinky.”

Lily promptly says, “Daddy, I was just kidding, your toots aren’t stinky at all.”

Then the hubby says, “Tell me they smell like roses”

Lily says, “Daddy, they smell just like roses.”

And with what was this little fabrication rewarded? A donut of course. Well, half a donut, cause we had to teach her lying was wrong.

In the interest of fairness I should note the following:

1. As soon as the donut was eaten, Lily went back to calling her father a “stink bug.”
2. It is possible that the effects of bad food may have affected other members of the family once they arrived home, but that family member shall remain nameless. Although she is pretty sure her gas does in fact smell like roses.