Missing

I don't want to alarm anyone, but my usually calm mannered angel daughter is missing. In her place is a new little girl, one who likes to YELL, kick, hit her brother and make sarcastic remarks to me. For example: "Abbey, this room is a mess. What are we going to do about it?" Her answer: "Build a new room and not let you in it." What? Totally sarcastic and fresh. Yesterday at Stop & Shop she threw the biggest tantrum of her entire life, splitting the eardrums of everyone in the entire front end of the store with her incessant screaming. This scene was due to the following reasons which I'll admit may have been partly (mostly) my fault. (1) She fell asleep as we entered the grocery store parking lot, forcing me to wake her right up to go in. (2) We shopped at 12:00 and I smartly decided we would eat lunch after . . . yeah I know, not such a swift move. (3) The following words out of my mouth "no, we aren't going to get a balloon today" were filtered through the air and entered her ears sounding like this "yes, you sure can get a balloon. Why don't you scamper over to the florist section all by yourself and pick one out." This resulted in the aforementioned tantrum that garnered us not 1, not 2 but 3 people bagging our groceries in order to get us the hell out of there. An older woman actually drove her car over to me in the parking lot to tell me that I was doing a good job and to congratulate me on not giving in and letting her have a balloon. Yup, we were definitely the spectacle of the day.

So what else is new with the precious 4 1/2 year old Abigail? Well, I think her new name should possibly be toot. When Jack was little I started calling "farts" "toots" and the name stuck. Abbey is by far the gassiest, tootiest child in a 100 mile radius. She blows her brother away in the gas department, literally. She has mastered the art so well and takes such pride in her gas that she will call me into the bathroom while she's in the tub to show me the bubbles she can make in the water. And these aren't spontaneous toots either. She'll yell from the tub "Mommy, come here." I'll answer "yup, in a sec." 4 minutes will go by. "Mommy, come here now." "OK, just one more second." 3 more minutes. "Mommmmmmy, I need you." And I'll saunter in, only to have her say "watch this" and fart in the tub, creating lots of bubbles. Are you kidding me? She held that in for 7 minutes until I came in. What kind of skill does this entail? I'm telling ya, I'm frightened. But this is just a phase, right? I'll get my kind, good natured, well behaving little girl back, right? Right? I will, right?

Mommy

Today we are celebrating our 45th snow day of the year. OK, perhaps it hasn't been that many, but it feels like it. It started out snowing this morning, but on my last trip to the house (to retrieve all of our play-doh) it had turned into a fine icy rain. ICE! No! Post-traumatic Stress! Anyway, I thought I would give you a little glimpse into my day thus far. I've cleaned and done laundry, and listened to this:

Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy. . . Mommy . . .

OK, you get the idea. The only consolation is that there are probably hundreds of mothers out there today listening to the exact same thing!

We Built This City!

This years Girl's Weekend ROCKED! (As is clearly demonstrated by Suzy, above.) We tore up that town, me and my lassies. OK, maybe "tore up" is a bit of a stretch. We laughed, we cried, we shopped, we drank, and damn did we eat. We even got ushered out of bars at closing time. "You don't have to go home ladies, but you can't stay here" bartenders bellowed while gently pushing on our backs and shooing us out the door. We even met a bizzaro world opposite group of us (Seinfeld episode reference). There was a group of 6 women, also on their 13th annual girls weekend, also staying at the Marriott in the rooms NEXT DOOR to us, and also partying hard at the karaoke bar. Weird. I've said it before but I can't stress enough how much I need my friends. How important true, really good friends are. Just being together brings back old times. Times of less responsibility. Times of less stress. For me, times of less pounds. The perfect recharging activity for all, and now we will start our countdown to next years getaway. Only 362 days away.

For those of us there, and anyone who loves a good 80's song, click here and you'll get the theme of our weekend.

We Built This City

When I got home the kids barely noticed my existence. I guess the days when they would fling themselves into my arms the second I returned from my weekend away are gone. That is, until I said the magic word . . . "presents"

Away . . . Again

OK, so I probably won't be receiving the mother of the year award this month. I am leaving my children again this weekend, for my 13th annual Girls Weekend. Every year during this weekend myself and 6 or 7 of my college girlfriends hit the road for a different New England location. We spend 2 days and nights drinking, eating, talking, shopping, enjoying housekeeping and being waited on at restaurants. It is GREAT. It is a necessary recharging event and at times I wonder if I could get through the rest of the year without it. It is so wonderful to be with people you've known forever, who know you and get you and just can "be", ya know? Jack was a little upset when he realized that this was the weekend I was leaving. "But you just got back" he whined. "Why are you leaving again?" Ughghg, knife through the heart. But NOT going away is NOT an option, in 13 years I have not missed a single weekend. So off I go to Newport, leaving Dennis to fend for himself for 2 days. I'm sure they will be fine, the trailer will be a mess when I get home of course. The kids will not eat a vegetable or brush their teeth, and probably be exhausted from getting to stay up as late as they want, but whatever . . . I'll have a good time. Later all.

Oh, I know I promised St. Thomas pictures, so here are a couple more for you to jealously look at. Hee hee.

View of the beach, our hotel is there in the background.

That little dot is me in the pool.

An underwater fish from the submarine ride.

This is the view from our balcony. Ahhhh.

Brrrr

Attention. This is an Iguana. Please don't be fooled by his soft and gentle looking appearance. He could bite you at any time if provoked, and oh yeah, he'll try to steal the fruit out of your fruity rum drink if you let him so WATCH OUT!

Man, it's cold here. But in all honesty, I haven't felt as cold as I thought. While living it up in the 85 degree weather I kept thinking "boy, it's going to suck when we go home to the cold." But really so far it hasn't. I mean geez, it's not like I work outside all day in it or something shoveling. Before we left St. Thomas Dennis threw his jeans into our carry-on bag. He was already wearing wind pants but said he might need to put them on over those pants when we landed in Boston. I was like "what the frick, we're not WALKING home from the airport ya know!"

So we are home, and although we had a FABULOUS time, relaxing and sipping drinks by the ocean, all the wonderful things you are supposed to do on an all inclusive second honeymoon type vacation, I was missing the kids and so happy to get home to them. There is only so many days you can lay around in the sun, sipping Pina Colada's and eating. Apparently my threshold is 4, although I'm sure I could have sucked it up for 1 or 2 more days if I had to.

So how was St. Thomas? In short, different and fabulous. The weather was wonderful, our first 3 days were not too hot, just warm with a beautiful soft breeze. Then the clouds cleared, the wind died down and it got pretty downright hot. But still good. I must say though, my HAIR hates St. Thomas. It is an enemy of St. Thomas and I'm not sure they should meet again for a while. From the instant I stepped off the plane and onto the tarmac, feeling the warm fragrant air touch my skin, my hair became insane. There is no other word for it. It was just insane. Frizzy. Sticking up in weird directions. About 2 inches shorter than when we left Boston. It even looked an odd color to me, and there was nothing I could do with it for the entire trip. Nothing at all. Luckily there was no one I knew there who cared what my hair looked like, so it didn't make too much of a difference. Usually I forgot about it until I happened by a mirror and then realized with a start that I was just not looking my best. Oh well. But our trip was still great, we had a good time and relaxed together, which we did need. The kids were so well taken care of, I hardly worried at all. When we talked to them they said they missed us, Abbey was a little pissed because we hadn't taken her with us, and Jack mostly sounded distracted. I know it is because he was watching t.v. I have huge and giant thanks for my Aunt Gail, my cousin Colleen and my parents, but most of my thanks have to go to Uncle Matt & Caitlin, you had the most child fun filled hours logged onto the spreadsheet. You guys were awesome. Thank you. Thank you. Yes, this many people rotated taking care of the kids while we were gone, and yes, I did have a spreadsheet. Excel. It takes a village people!

So I will have some more pictures to share later, and more stories I'm sure, but for now I am just tired and must go to bed. Our flight yesterday was 4 hours delayed, getting us home at 12:45 am at which point I couldn't settle down and fall asleep, even though I had to get up at 6:30 for work and to get the kids off to school. It's catching up with my now. Thank goodness for the time change. My internal St. Thomas clock thinks it is still only 9. Phew.

Winter

This winter is kicking my ass. There is no other way to put it. Usually I can get through the 3 (or 4 or 5!) months that really constitute the winter season but this year has been an exception, I think for everyone. That ice storm threw everything and everyone in the area for a complete and total loop, making every snowflake, every droplet of ice, every SCHOOL CANCELLATION that much more dramatic. Its like we all are suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder and just can't take any more. We have the inability to put up with even one more storm. Usually by mid-January if y0u hear of a nice snowstorm coming you say to your friends and neighbors things like, "looks like we might get a good one, I love snow days and being home with the kids for a day in our jammies, drinking hot chocolate and playing games." I've been known to utter these words "I love when it snows, it covers up everything else in the yard and makes everything so beautiful." BUT NOT THIS YEAR. This morning the mini-van got stuck in the side of the yard (I've been parking there, next to the trailer, so that we can keep the driveway clear for the contractor). I kept trying and trying to break it free, rocking back and forth like you are supposed to while the tires smoked and screeched, but to no avail. I was completely stuck, while the kids stared at me and Jack said encouraging things like "yay, guess I can't go to school if we are stuck, whoopee!" The thing is, perhaps if this had been another winter I might have brought us all back into the house, called the day a mental health day and had another cup of coffee. But NOT THIS WINTER. These children are not missing one more day of school and if I had to carry them there on my back they were going. In the end Dennis came out and tried, also to no avail. He had to tie us up to the Subaru and pull us out. The good old Subaru. Always trusty and true in the snow. I must admit that my mini-van has lost some of its sparkle with its disappointing performance this winter, but I still love it. Maybe it just needs some new tires. Maybe the weight of all of the dirt and mud caked onto it is slowing it down.

So winter is kicking my ass, but at least I have an escape. That's right people, I leave at 3 am tonight (tomorrow morning?) for the airport. We are OFF like a prom dress (well, not my prom dress mom & dad) to St. Thomas for our fabulous vacation, a second honeymoon if you will. First I have to get through today though. It cracks me up, Dennis gives me this "gift" for Christmas. He went to a travel agent, handed over our "emergency" credit card and "SURPRISE HONEY" look what I did. OK, OK, I will admit that at first I was not too happy, but then I started to look forward to it and am actually craving my feet not being freezing, my breath not catching in my chest when I step outside. First though I had to arrange full-time child care for Jack and Abbey (this involves an Excel spreadsheet stuck on the fridge). Then print out a list of emergency numbers, figure out how we were going to get to the airport, home from the airport, pack our summer clothes, clean the trailer, do laundry, grocery shop so that kids and caregivers alike would have food, set up who is taking Jack to Cub Scouts Thursday, write directions to Abbey's gymnastics place and then call and confirm with everyone involved 3 times that we all knew the "plan". Oh, and also go to the bank, get money for the trip (tips and so forth), play phone tag with the insurance adjuster, finally get money from the insurance company, write a check for the contractor, pick out new carpets & flooring, get new light fixtures, . . . . . . . oh wait, my head just flew off. Geez, this is a really relaxing present he got me so far.

The kids seem thrilled we are leaving, which I must admit is a little disheartening. It's not like I want them wailing and crying, but maybe a small "oh, I'll miss you" might be nice. Last night they were doing this little dance of joy thing together at the fact that we were going away. I suppose it sounds exciting to them, all of these different people watching them, probably not making them go to bed or eat their vegetables, but I'm sure after 2 or 3 days that will get old. Luckily that is just about the time the weekend hits, Uncle Matt & Aunty Caitlen arrive and the 24 hour video game craft making game playing story reading smorgasbord begins. I just hope that they brush their teeth while I'm gone, at least 3 or 4 times. OK, at least once.

Enjoy the rest of the week everyone, it's supposed to be about 7 degrees Friday. Hee hee . . . . .

How Now Brown Cow

Did you know that I live in a trailer? I'm sure you did, but did you know that these particular brand of FEMA inspired mobile homes are brown, like, everywhere. Brown paneled walls, light brown carpet, brown/white linoleum. And this isn't a nice cocoa deep chocolaty velvety brown, it's poop brown. Oh well, at least it is warm and dry and we each have our own bed (when they STAY in their own beds which is about 1/2 of the time). At home I have a queen sized bed, but now I am sleeping in a double and then the dog jumps up and then a child (usually the big one) climbs in and before you know it I am hanging off the edge and heading to the couch that I have covered with a sheet (because you know, it's not my couch so ewww). But our real house is moving along splendidly and now contains all of its required walls and ceilings. We even have electricity back to 100% of the house, along with 100% working heat. If only the damn insurance company would send that check things could really move along and I may come back from St. Thomas next week to see vast changes. At this rate everything will be in a holding pattern while I am gone and I will come home to the house in the same state it was in when I left.

The kids seem excited about living in the trailer in the yard, and to my amazement never seem to have the urge to go inside the house, even though it is a mere yards away. I guess they don't see the point. There is nothing in there they need, since I have spent hours ferrying countless items, from markers to action figures, to Baby Alive's pack of diapers which was wedged under a piece of furniture in Jack's room, out of the unorganized chaos for them. It seems as if every day there is something else I realize we must have from inside to survive, such as lamps and nice smelling candles. At this rate we may require a moving company when we are able to take up residence in what we call the "main" house. Jack and Abbey seemed at first to think it was a great adventure, a vacation of a sort. Then school started, bedtimes became enforced and it quickly just turned into the "place where we now live". There is a time-out spot there, baths to be taken, veggies to be eaten. Even though I could knock on the paneled wall from the couch and hit Jack in the head he still insists I sit in the hall like at home and read a book while they drift into la la land. I should just refuse, but I haven't had the energy. Unfortunately I think they know that I am pretty much willing to do anything by 8:30 pm to get them to sleep so I can lay on the sheet-covered couch and just veg, cuz you know somethin', trailer livin' is exhaustin'.

Sadness

I was going to write a post about the exorbitant amount of snow days that Jack has had this year (8) not to mention delays and early dismissals. I was going to write about our

l. . . o. . . n. . . g

day yesterday stuck in the trailer together, playing Candyland, Operation, Princess dress up, and I Spy Bingo while the never ending ice and snow pelted down outside. I was going to write about how the sound of the phone ringing with our automated school closing announcement was starting to really get on my nerves. I was going to write about starting to count down the days (6) until I leave for St. Thomas. I was going to write a lot of things, but when I checked my e-mail this morning I saw that there was an updated post about my little Carepage cutie that I follow Coleman. Tragically, sadly, unfairly, he lost his 2 1/2 year battle and died Monday night. So now I am just sad. Sad and mad. And sad. Sad for his parents and his twin brother Caden. Sad for all the parents. And glad that I got to spend the day stuck in a trailer with my 2 healthy children playing games. Cancer sucks. That's all.
On another prayer, if you can send out some extra thoughts for my Nanny who is in the hospital with Pneumonia, I would appreciate it. She's going to be fine I'm sure, a little rest and recuperation (along with some tasty antibiotic's) and I'm sure she will be back where she wants to be soon, which is HOME!.

Resolution Smesolution

For the year 2008 I made 3 resolutions. I gave myself a year to complete them, thinking that this would be a more realistic goal. Number 1, lose 15 pounds. Number 2, quit smoking. Number 3, crawl out of some of our growing credit card debt. So there I was, cruising along, doing pretty damn well. I quit smoking in July, one down. While I hadn't lost 15 pounds, I was on a healthy un-slump myself track and making slow but steady progress, and while we were not "debt-free" by any means, we were better off. Then the damn Ice Storm of 08' hit and everything went to shit. First, four days into being homeless and rootless I commanded Dennis to get me a pack of Parliament Lights or I would kill him. Then the pipes burst, flooding the house, rendering my treadmill powerless and covered under boxes and my scale somewhere, probably water logged and therefore no longer a reliable source. When the pipes burst and I had my little mini-nervous breakdown with tears streaming down my face my husband decided that the only thing to make me feel better would be to surprise me with a fabulously expensive 5 night trip to St. Thomas. So he grabbed the credit card, hit the travel agent and we leave in 9 days. Resolution #3, down the toilet. So here it is 2009, and I am back where I was at this time last year. So I give myself the same resolutions, and maybe this year I will have better luck? Here's hoping!