Boo to Halloween

Halloween and I are in a fight.

I do not like spiders, even fake ones, covering the inside of my car. It causes a bit of, shall we say, stress.

I do not like that I had to take items to Zoey's school for her class party (the one she is too sick to attend) and that no one thought to tell the first-time-parent-of-a-kindergartner (me) the protocol of where to drop the items and that I certainly would not be welcome to drop them off in the classroom.

I do not like that I had to drag my sick daughter and her little sister back outside and to the pharmacy because they did not mix any flavoring in her medicine yesterday (and she literally could not keep the stuff down) because now it is something I have to request when I pick up her medication. That information may have been useful yesterday. When I was at the pharmacy. For the first time.

I do not like that Zoey should be at school, in her costume, with her friends, having fun, eating treats, and instead she is stuck at home for the fourth day in a row feeling really lousy.

And, Halloween was not very kind to us last year, either. So, yeah, we're fighting.

missing Daddy

This is how we spent the first morning when Daddy left for North Carolina.  Can't you tell how thankful we are for this new job opportunity?

There are NO drama queens in this house!

go get dressed, please...

In the last few weeks Zoey has successfully transitioned from needing help while getting dressed to being able to do it on her own.  The proof is below.

Every single day for about 5 days in a row this is what Z would come in wearing.  Then I put my foot down and said, "And don't come back with your ballerina outfit on!"

Helpfully, this was her alternative. She laughed and laughed. Hilarious.

When I really laid down the law and insisted on no more costumes she insisted this was not a skirt made from a Happy Meal box but actually a sleeping bag so technically she had listened to me. Sigh.

When I urged for real clothes and fully clothed she wore all green. She knows how mommy loves "matching" colors.

When I yelled from downstairs, "And not all green today!" she came down in all pink and thought she was so clever (and, really, she is).

Today she is just flat out mocking me.

Luckily preschool starts this week and mommy gets to pick out the clothes. I'm thinking all purple - four different shades, of course.

snow, snow, and more snow...

We are trying to stay busy (and warm) inside:

because it looks like this outside:

Want to come visit?

seriously...

The other day Zoey and I ran into the grocery store where not one but two blind old farts nice elderly people complimented me on my beautiful baby boy. This has been happening a lot lately, but this particular day I had to laugh because this is what Zoey looked like in the store:



PINK stroller and PINK shoes and PINK jacket and PINK headband and... ugh. What about this picture says BOY?

(I realize this is not the best picture but I happened to have my camera in the car on this trip to the store so I just snapped the picture right there in the parking lot.)

top ten situations...

...that make air travel stink (or, air travel - the condensed version)

10. Showing up at the airport on time but the airport being mobbed because of the heavy snowfall the day before.
9. Tired, overworked ticket agents that inform me that my bags will not make it on time because I am checking in late (after waiting in the check-in line for an hour).
8. A TSA worker who will not let me move to the front of the security line even though I am crying, my baby is crying, and my flight is boarding.
7. Another TSA worker who requires me to remove Zoey's Robeez shoes and socks to go through security even though I am crying, my baby is crying, and my flight is boarding.
6. Hearing my name over the intercom as I am running with baby, stroller, and diaper bag to my gate.
5. Having an A boarding pass but being the last passenger on the plane (see all of above) so getting stuck with the dreaded middle seat.
4. Changing a messy diaper on my lap while in the middle seat (though look for Melissa's messy diaper story - it trumps mine).
3. De-boarding and boarding again with baby and diaper bag.
2. A flight where every.single.seat.is.taken.
1. Sitting next to Tracy and Nolan.

air travel...

This is a long one, but bear with me. As you may know, Zoey and I recently spent a week in beautiful Caifornia (pictures are soon to follow). I love being in California but I despise getting to California. So, Melissa and I met in Chicago (after identical mornings of craziness at the airports because of the snow the day before) so we could suffer the long leg of the flight together. Once on the plane in Chicago, however, we were informed the flight would be completely full and we could not sit together because, with our two babies, that would make five passengers and each row is only equipped with four oxygen masks. Disappointed, we chose two aisle seats across from one another and prayed silently for good row partners.
Melissa did not get so lucky. Two rather large men sat in her row, though they tried very hard for the entire flight to keep from infringing on her space. I was even more unlucky.
Picture this: skinny wanna-be rocker chick in too-tight black jeans (the cheap kind - yes, I am a snob) and a faux-leather tank top that laces up in front (we're flying from Chicago, mind you) and a dirty looking ski cap; no boobs to speak of (this is important to my rambling, believe it or not) and wearing way too much out-of-date cheap make-up. So, Tracy (I learned her name later) slides past me into the window seat. Now my prayers become more earnest as I plead for a good middle-seat partner and this is what happens.
A tall blonde-haired, blue-eyed wanna-be snowboarder wearing dirty jeans and a ripped t-shirt plops down in the middle seat and says to Tracy, "Dude [not adding the dude in myself], my friends and I were checking you out in the airport and Jed said to me, 'Man, I gotta get me a piece of that,' and then Carl said, 'Yeah, I gotta get me a piece of that, too,' and I told them, 'I'm gonna get me a piece of that.' Can I buy you a drink?" To which I was expecting Tracy to request a seat change but, oh, no: she giggles. And it all went downhill from there.
Over the course of the 5 hour flight, Nolan (the sleazy middle-seat guy) convinces Tracy to leave her boyfriend - who she is on her way home from visiting in Chicago - because, and I quote, "People are nothing but circles. I, man, I am a complete circle and you, sweet Tracy, are a complete circle and, dude, complete circles belong together." And she bought it.
Some other highlights from Nolan and Tracy's interaction: 7 vodkas and cranberry juice for him and three for her - all graciously paid for by Nolan; language and topics that would make Howard Stern feel uncomfortable (or join in); 5 trips to the restroom for Nolan to do goodness knows what; one trip to the restroom for Tracy with Nolan (we actually saw them go in together and the girl sitting in front of Melissa turned and said, "Please tell me that is not actually happening," to which I replied, "Based on what they are talking about, it is actually happening."; two complaints by Nolan regarding the crying babies which earned him an angry remark from yours truly; an hour-long discourse on Tracy's imminent boob-job which ended with her lifting up her faux-leather tank top to show Nolan the "before" so he could appreciate the after and, might I add, she really does need the boob-job (but lifting up your shirt? With no bra on? On an airplane?); and, finally, an exchange of digits so they could meet up over the weekend because - according to Nolan - two must actually have s-e-x to prove they are meant to be together and, of course, Tracy agreed.
To Nolan and Tracy - you so deserve each other but, please - I am begging - get a room.

not feeling so grateful...

Zoey has not slept in two nights and I am wiped. We're staying with the kids of some good friends and I am afraid they are not getting much sleep either. Last night we were trying to watch American Idol when one of the girls said:

Bethany: Why is Zoey crying so much?
Me: Well, I think she is teething.
10 minutes later...
Bethany: She's still crying. How long will she be teething?
Me: About 3 years, I think.
Bethany [wide-eyed with concern (for herself or Zoey, I don't know)]: That's a long time to cry.

Yes, Bethany, 3 years is a long time to cry. A very long time, indeed.

it happens...

I gave Zoey a bath this morning and we got out the door early so I could make it to a Weight Watchers meeting. I weighed in, sat down, and was feeling pretty good about myself. Then I realized I hadn't checked Zoey's diaper before I rushed out the door.

I checked. We left. I sped home. Bath #2. Back. Legs. Hair. Carseat.

Zoey's asleep. Clothes are in garbage or wash. Car seat straps are soaking in Biz.

It happens.

well-meaning advice...

I was talking to my cute little sister yesterday, who is expecting her first baby in December, about the LAME things people say to you when you are pregnant. Things such as, "Are you sure you want to be a mom?" or "Oh, honey, you think you're tired now!" or "Just you wait! They'll puke and poop everywhere!" or "Having a baby is the worst decision I ever made," or "Seriously, this is not what I signed up for," or "Well, get used to never sleeping again," or "I hope you're not going to nurse - you'll never be your own person again."

What do you say in response to that? "Oh, you are probably right: I really don't think I want to be a mother - what the %@** was I thinking?"

Melissa, what all those mothers should be telling you is this: You will fall in love with your baby every time she looks up at you and smiles. You will cry yourself to sleep out of gratitude for this little person in your life. You will laugh yourself silly when she poops five times in a row - and your cute husband is changing the diapers that evening. You will find it not only possible but often times necessary to put her needs before your own. You will cherish the mornings when she wakes up happy and wants only you. You will awe her tiny toes and fingers, especially when she wraps them around yours. You will smile to yourself when well-wishers tell you she is beautiful because you know she really is. You will love motherhood.

My only complaint about motherhood is that it didn't happen to me sooner - and, actually, I'm over that one, too.