Valentine Jealousy?

We had a new experience on Valentine's Day. I went out to check the mail on Valentine's Day, and found something extra in the mailbox. Not just the usual Valentine's from grandma & grandpa, but a special one for my girl. And not from her daddy. It was from a B-O-Y. And not another kindergartener. A first grader. (Guess she's following her Mom's example of lusting after older men.) And not one of our neighbors. This boy lived on another street, which meant he asked his Mom to drive him to our house to deliver the Valentine. Boy, this kid was smooth! Quite impressive for a first grader! It was sweet and I think Caitlin may have blushed a bit. But it made me feel very funny inside- how could my girl be old enough to get a surprise Valentine?And was I, dare I say? A bit jealous. Perhaps. Being married is great. (Excuse me while I digress a moment- I am writing this from Starbucks and Ken & I's wedding song just came on the music system- how ODD is that??? In case you're wondering, it's Frank Sinatra, "I've Got You Under My Skin" Bizarre. Really, really, Bizarre.) So anyway, marriage is great. But after ten years there's minimal  mystery. I know who my Valentine is and hopefully will be for the rest of my life. No more wondering if that cute guy at the gym is going to put a card on my car. No more wondering if the cute guy at Starbucks will be there today or not. So yes, I am woman enough to admit a tad bit of jealousy. But you know what? I won't miss the drama of secret crushes and unrequited love. I'm going to enjoy living vicariously through my six year old. And if someday my little guy wants to deliver a surprise Valentine, I will happily do it for him. 

Advanced Mommy Skills 202...

Sit down and close your eyes. This next part is going to take a bit of imagination. (In other words, the picture didn't turn out well, so I couldn't post it.) Imagine you are at a hockey game with your family...three of you are very happy...the youngest member (aged 3 1/2) is not. Imagine the noise...the chanting...the mayhem everywhere you look. Now imagine you are 3 1/2 years old. You are very, very tired. Your pleas to go home five minutes into the first period are to no avail. Now imagine crawling onto your Mommy's lap and cuddling up in the midst of all that chaos and falling asleep because you are so very, very tired. Now imagine free t-shirts being tossed from the rafters above. All around your Mom the t-shirts are sailing past into the hands of the crowd. People are pushing and grabbing for the t-shirts. And calmly your mother reaches out and plucks a t-shirt from the sky, without ever disturbing your slumber. 

Of course the story above is true. It's too goofy not to be. In the midst of Sunday's hockey game, Ryan decided he was tuckered out and crashed on my lap. I actually did get a picture, however there is more bosom showing than I feel comfortable posting. But it did get me thinking about advanced Mommy Skills. That is, the amount of things you can now simultaneously accomplish that defy the laws of physics and gravity. Grabbing a t-shirt with a sleeping child was one of my more skillful accomplishments. But my real refinement of these skills came when Ryan was a newborn. My personal favorite was walking up the stairs while nursing Ryan to answer the call from a then 2 1/2 year Caitlin - "MOOOOOOMMMMMMY....I have messy poop. I need HELLLLP..." As I continued to nurse Ryan and assist Caitlin with her hygenie needs, all I could think was "is this really happening? am I really the same person that used to "do" lunch and get manicures?" The event was so horrifying and funny at the same time that I immediately called a working Mom friend of mine. She (fortunately? unfortunately?) was not at her desk, so I left her a lengthy message explaining "why leaving small children with a nanny and going to the office is a brilliant idea." She was so amused by my voicemail that she saved it for weeks and played it any time she was having a bad case of Mommy guilt. So today, cheers to advanced Mommy skills. Cheers to helping with spelling words and building Lego dragons at the same time. Cheers to simultaneously making tomorrow's lunchs, moving a load of laundry into the dryer, and still knowing when your children are up to something bad! 

What's a Girl to Do?

So one of my sister's is pregnant with her first baby. Very exciting. Especially since it's been 3 1/2 years since we've had a new baby in our family. And extra exciting because my sister is "AMA", also known as "advanced maternal age". You know how these things are- you spend years trying NOT to get pregnant. And then when you do decide you're "ready" (whatever the heck that means- was any of us truly ready???) to have a baby, you suddenly starting praying like a maniac that an egg and sperm will successfully meet and implant. Everything sounds fine and dandy, right? And it is - as far as the baby's health & my sister's health & all the really important stuff goes. And I'm planning to go see my sister. This is no mean feat because she lives in ski country. In non-ski season a visit requires a cross-country flight and a five hour car ride. In ski season you can fly cross-country, connect to a puddle jumper and then drive 1 hour to her house. Much better. BUT...there's a complication. A rather serious one known as "Mom". Or the soon to be grandma for the 11th time. My Mom has not flown on a plane in twenty-nine years. Did you see that? TWENTY-NINE YEARS.  That's a long time folks. A serious enough phobia that you don't just say one day "hmmmm, I think I'll go fly cross-country today." And that's not her only issue. The poor woman has never been a great traveller and age has not helped. She can no longer make the 2 1/2 hour drive to my house. For a while she would come visit if I picked her up and brought her back (as long as we could stop at least once for a cigarette break). But we've moved from "moderately advanced travelling phobia" to "severely advanced travelling phobia." She won't come to my house anymore. This is not good. For lot's of reasons, predominantly because my Mom smokes in her house & I truly feel like I am suffocating in her house. Not good at all. But I am digressing from the real issue. My Mom has stated her intention to get on an airplane to see my sister's new baby. Great. Fantastic. Makes me believe in miracles. Except (and you all knew a monkey wrench was about to be thrown in, didn't you?) that my Mom wants to fly with someone for her cross-country flight. Someone like me. Yikes. I love my Mom. Oh, do I love her. But I can't do that. Anything but that. A kidney donation sounds preferable. I want to be there for my sister; not babysit my Mom through plane aversion therapy. I have a horrible vision of the trip. A vision that involves my Mom panicking in California when she realizes it's time to get on a puddle jumper and refusing to get on the 2nd leg of the flight. A vision of me and my Mom driving from California back to South Carolina to get her home. So what's a girl to do? Six weeks until the trip. Do you think I can successfully avoid answering my Mom's calls for six weeks? Can I accidentally on purpose tell my Mom the wrong trip dates? How am I going to sleep at night if I lie to my Mom. What's a girl to do??? 

Missing...

Disappearing socks make sense to me. I don't like it but I understand how we end up with stray socks. The washing machine eats them. They got shoved under the couch. I accept lost socks as a way of life. But I am starting another list of "Things That Have Mysteriously Disappeared." There is no rhyme or reason to this list. It keeps me awake at night. (well not really, but it would be funny if it did) Are you ready? 

#1. (with a bullet) Kitchen tongs. I kid you not. I love my kitchen tongs. So much that I have (had) two pairs. And now there is only one. Where could the others be? Is there a mysterious burglar out there with a fetish for kitchen tongs? It's a mystery to me. 

#2. Caitlin's Bitty Baby. A much loved baby doll. So loved that she was not allowed to leave the house for fear of getting lost. The strategy did not work. The doll is gone. I did not panic until we sold our house and moved 2 1/2 years ago. As we packed I thought surely we would find the missing baby. Nope. We've contemplated filing a missing persons report because clearly she has been Baby-napped. 

#3. Spoons. Once upon a time I had 12 spoons for my everyday flatware. Now I have 9. Where on earth did they go??? Stolen by the same thief with the tong fetish???

There is another list. It is called "Things That Are Annoying to Lose, but Are No Real Surprise."

#1. Jackets. My kids hate to wear 'em. Take 'em off at every opportunity and dump them on the nearest chair. Or on the ground. Mostly on the ground, but I like to pretend they gently place them on a chair. No surprise they often don't make it home. 

#2. Hair clips/ Bows/ Rubber Bands. Not much to say about this. They walk out the door in the morning to the bus stop only never to be seen again. 

#3. Clothes from the dry cleaners. Mea culpa for using a inexpensive (cheap) dry cleaner with minimal English speaking skills, but it's still annoying. 

What's on your list? Add it to the comments below... 

Are MId-Life Crises Optional?

I hit a new milestone this year. I officially know someone going through a mid-life crisis. In the interest of preserving their anonymity and our relationship, I will keep the details vague. But I will say it started off innocently enough with renewed interest in a childhood passion.  One day everything was fine; my friend had a new hobby. The next week it seemed, she had gone AWOL. Her hobby consumed her life. Husband and children were left to fend for themselves. Long term friends were jilted in favor of her hobby. She is not having an affair; at least not of the sexual kind. But her husband and children are missing a part of her. Per the Internet version of Webster's Dictionary known as "Wikipedia", a mid-life crisis is: a "term...to describe a period of dramatic self-doubt that is felt by some individuals in the middle years of life." Self-doubt? Hell, I was an expert at that emotion. Isn't that the definition of modern motherhood? Did that mean I was halfway out the door from my family and didn't realize it? Who approves mid-life crises? Where do I submit my application and do I need a note from my mother? And more importantly, do I get to trade in my SUV for an obnoxiously bright sports car? Too bad psychologist Carl Jung defined the age range as "between 40 and 60". I've got to hang in there for a few more years until I qualify. But actually, I'd like to skip the crisis. I've worked really hard to put away the self-doubts of my 20s. And I would miss my husband and kids too much. Can I just play hooky for a day or two instead? 

T.V. Time

In my perfect world, Caitlin and Ryan would never watch television. 

Or all shows would not only teach 6 year olds how to do quantum physics, but also how to be kind to their younger brothers. If you haven't guessed, I'm not a fan of television. There is a reason why it's also known as the "boob tube." My post-college television set used rabbit ears. No cable for this girl. (It's not as crazy as it sounds. I didn't need cable to watch Ally McBeal.) In our early dating Ken demonstrated love for me in many ways. He is a man who loves sports. Basketball in particular. After driving five hours to visit me for the weekend, we settled in to watch the college basketball Final Four tournament. Although his face paled when he saw the rabbit ears sticking out of my t.v., he gamely settled in on the couch to watch a slightly fuzzy championship game. Yes, it was love. 

And then we got married. Clearly, his first priority was appropriate electronics. Interpreted as: DirecTV (non-negotiable so he could watch Steelers games), TiVo, and of course every channel known to man and some channels that may only be watched by little green creatures on Mars. I fought hard against TiVo. It was a waste of money. I would never use it. Any TiVo junkies out there are laughing their asses off at me right now. Because they know I am hooked. I now rate TiVo as life changing. I kid you not. TiVo ranks on the same level as the warming drawer in my kitchen. It doesn't seem like a big deal...until you have one. (BTW, I inherited the warming drawer with the house, but if you ever have the space and funds to put one in your kitchen they are indispensable. It's extra nice for hardworking  Hubby- no more cold dinners when he works late.) TiVo eliminates annoying commercials for me - the thought of watching American Idol without TiVo makes me break out in a sweat- and protects my children. For years the only shows "on offer" in our house were educational. Sesame Street, Bob the Builder, and Dora the Explorer filled brains and t.v. time. Our household was blissfully unaware of the finer character development occurring on SpongeBob SquarePants. The advent of kindergarten burst my sheltered little bubble. Some brilliant educator thought teaching kids to read was a good idea. Without even asking me first. (Don't panic, of course I am 100% kidding.) Caitlin was thrilled and naively, so was I. I lacked foresight. Suddenly Caitlin was very interested in recording her own t.v. shows and broadening her viewing horizons. I am getting questions I am not ready for. The word "cheerleader" caught her eye this morning. Too bad it was prefaced by "Girls Gone Wild: Horny Cheerleaders."  I hope Ken  forgives me if he comes home to rabbit ears on the t.v. again. I'd gladly let my kids watch SpongeBob just to avoid explaining what "horny" means to a six year old!