Mawwige

Saturday night the ladies and I had dinner with Bridezilla, and I have to say that she was wonderful. Sometimes she is exactly what one needs. She is one of those people that my sister and I love who is completely and unapologetically honest about what they think about everything. She also loves my kids, which gives anyone extra points in my book.
Despite her bizarre wedding demands, as well as the 6 headed monster that this wedding has turned her into, she is a great person and I am glad that she and I are friends. I also dig her fiance (I can't lie I have looked at him on more than one occasion, however, and asked myself, "Self, what the hell is he doing with her?" only because he is totally this tattooed punk kid and she is all potpourri and racial slurs). At any rate, the are getting married at the end of the month and I have to come up with something kick ass to read at their wedding. They are not religious, he is a "musician" (I use the term loosely after seeing his band play), and she wants everything to be perfect. I can't really find a poem that I love, so I was thinking of putting together some song lyrics (kind of a la Moulin Rouge), but I am stuck. I would love to do the 'Mawwige' speech from The Princess Bride, but I don't think Bridezilla would appreciate that too much. I don't have it in me to forever listen to her tell me I ruined her wedding either.
Any suggestions?

What did you do this weekend?

Here are the things I have done this weekend, in no particular order: cleaned my garage, 6 loads of laundry, dinner with Bridezilla, making tags for Bridezilla's wedding favors, rescued my aunt from being locked out of her house, went to the park, sterilized my bathroom, cleaned my house (by this I mean moving one pile of crap to its temporary location, occasionally merging 2 piles of crap), folded and put away laundry, took the train to the city and back, walked the Garfield Park Conservatory, caught up with an old friend, made my mom mad, dug up 4 bushes in my yard, replanted 2 bushes, murdered the Creeping Charlie that has completely taken over my backyard, met the new neighbors, grocery shopping, finished season 1 of Big Love, and I am about to embark on some ironing. Along with all these things I also did some parenting here and there and there were some diaper changes.

I'm tired.

Bad Habits

Can someone tell me why I have needed a nap every day this week at approximately 1:57 pm? It is my new dirty little secret that I turn on Pinky Dinky Doo at 2 and make Abby sit quietly so that mommy can rest her eyes. The problem is that sometimes my nap bleeds into Wu Wu Wubzy (which, seriously, what the fuck is this show?), and once that starts I know she is not going to willfully turn it off so I might as well just stay asleep, right? The weird thing is that I have been going to bed earlier than usual lately. I know what you may be thinking, but I am just about positive that we are not expecting a new little bundle of joy anytime soon. Is this a bad habit?

A bad habit I know that I have is my incurable addiction to all things MTv reality TV? I need to break up with The Hills, really, I just have to, but I just can't seem to do it. I also have this sick fascination with Celebrity Rap Superstar, which seriously is the WORST most God awful crap shown on television EVER (it is even worse than that Cop Rock show that Steven Bochco (sp) did in the early 90s where the police officers sang and fought crime). I was led to Celebrity Rap Superstar by my boy Perez Hilton. I quite enjoy his website, although I sometimes feel a little dirty being that interested in the lives of the rich and famous, but I somehow manage to reconcile with my conscience. I get it that he is barely literate, and that he is mean and blah blah blah, but he is mildly entertaining, and when I found out he was going to be rapping alongside my girl Kendra and Sebastian Bach (my only crush on a famous person growing up with the exception of the fleeting romance I had with Kevin Bacon after seeing Footloose, oh yeah, and the guy from Girls Just Want To Have Fun starring Sarah Jessica Parker "Jeff Malone? I had given you up for dead" what happened to that guy? What was his name?) I was totally all over this nonsense. It really is terrible, but there was something kind of funny about Jason Wahler rapping, and Shar Jackson trying to have a career beyond being Britney's ex's ex.
This show is so wrong, and the one judge's voice is whiny and obnoxious, but with Tone Loc involved, it just feels so right.

I am procrastinating like no body's business. The crap piled up around my house that needs to be dealt with is killing me softly. I am hoping to get some stuff done this weekend but I am single parenting so who knows. Tim gets the weekend off to gamble and watch football with his buddy, while I parent and winterize our landscaping with the help of the ladies. My friend Marnie thinks that I am crazy for giving Tim such a "long leash" and I am not sure what to think of that. He works late 3 nights a week, 1 to 2 full weekends a month, and he gets free reign of his social agenda, but for the most part, when given the option, he wants to just hang at home. Maybe I should be more vigilant about keeping better tabs on Tim, but really, I kind of don't care. Is allowing my husband to make his own choices (even if I don't agree with him) a bad habit?

Moment of Zen

I have sat down to blog about recent happenings around here about 11 times, but I just can't seem to seal the deal. We are currently hovering around bedtime, Nora is bathed and jammied, Abby is winding down, and they are both sitting across from me coloring pictures from the Care Bears coloring book. I could disrupt to crack the whip and get keep them on their "schedule" (read: getting them in bed so that I can complete a task, thought, etc. without their "assistance"), but no one is crying, pulling hair, whining, fighting, whatever, so I'll let them be.
When I last left you I was... well, I don't really remember, but I am sure I haven't told you about Bridezilla's shower and my late night out (complete with sleep over), or my trip to our Nation's Capital, the second rate care my children received while I was there, or the disaster area that is my mother in law.
Now that I have listed all the things I want to tell you all about my lovely ladies have started whining, crying, hair pulling, and fighting. It is amazing how quickly things fall apart. We'll catch up after bedtime, ok?

The Circus, The Bitchfight, The Playdate and My Birthday

Friday I took Abby to the Kelly Miller Circus which came to a neighboring suburb as a fund raiser. It was a small circus with acrobats, trapeze artists, animals and whatnot. The animals kind of stress me out for some reason. I know that they are probably better off in the circus because if they were left to the wild they would have to work for their next meal, whereas at the circus all they have to do is a few tricks then they get a good meal, but it still creeps me out for some reason. I hate the zoo for the same reason. For whatever reason I just don't think it is normal to have Polar Bears in the middle of Chicago, but whatever.
The acrobats at the circus were also kind of creepy. It was this troupe from China and my friend Marnie and I agree that it was eerily homoerotic. Which is fine, but maybe a little much for kids in the middle of the afternoon. Just my opinion....

So Tim's best friend and I have been in this stupid bitch fight since I posted this, and irritatingly enough it still has not been resolved. He was mad that I put that on my blog, I was mad that he sent me this nasty email in response. Things kind of cooled off, but there was still a huge cloud looming and I refused to not acknowledge it. I tried to get him to talk to me, and keep Tim out of it, but to no avail. He was always "too busy" which I guess tells me that it was unimportant to him to resolve out issues. So it was his birthday and we had him and his girlfriend over for dinner the other night to celebrate. I worked harder than I probably should have for someone who is so uninterested in having any kind of friendship with me, and was kind of annoyed that he had a terrible attitude toward me. He wouldn't even make eye contact when speaking to me and when he did all he had to say were rude things. The kick in the pants was that as they were leaving he didn't even say good bye to me. He announced they were leaving, I turned to say good bye to his girl, and when I went to say good night to him he was already walking to his car. It was awful.
Yesterday I was pretty pissed off about this, and sent him an email that I maybe should have thought twice before sending, but what can I do? I would still like to work this out because I think it sucks for Tim that he is stuck between his best friend and his wife and he tries to avoid conflict with both of us in general, especially in this situation. I think I have done enough and that if he wants to fix he he will make the effort. Again, just my opinion....

So Abby's friend from school came over today after class to give her parents some time with their new baby. As we were leaving school we were all standing around oohing and aaahing over the new baby (with a stupid name) and another girl from the class came and joined us while her mom went to get her sister. So I rounded up Abby and her friend and this third little girl asked where we were going and if she could come and play today too. There was a lot of commotion so I pretended not to hear because I really didn't feel like having a huge play date like that today, and it is just too much when they all come over. Does this make me a should crushing bitch, or can I chalk it up to the idea that the two other girls have play dates that don't include Abby and that is ok, so Abby can have a play date with one and not the other?
Just asking.....

So my 30th birthday is around the corner and Tim told me this morning that he is not taking time off for it (we were figuring out when he should burn out his vacation days before the new year), and that we really don't have the money to do anything too spectacular. Now to some this may sound like he is covering up some big surprise party, but alas, that is not how Tim rolls, which is fine. I am not really sure what I want to do for my birthday, but I don't want to have to plan it myself, and I want someone, for once, to put as much thought into my birthday as I put into other people's. I guess I am feeling a little raw that I jumped through hoops for Tim's friend's birthday (which is still being celebrated with a weekend away for the two of them to go to a Bears game in Detroit) and mine will probably go unnoticed. This turned into a whole fight about god only knows what, and I am kind of mad that I am going to have to tell him specifically what I want to do and who I want to join us. I foresee me having to do everything including making a reservation and dialing the phone so that Tim can call people to invite them (don't worry he'll make the call as long as I provide the name, phone number and best time to call for anyone I may want there to celebrate me turning 30, which is a whole other issue entirely...).
I am probably being ridiculous, but I am ok with that. I'm sure that whatever we do will be lovely....

Turf War

This morning I helped out a friend of mine by watching her 7 month old baby while she went to some seminar for her job. I am toying with the idea of helping her out one day a week by watching her two little girls (the baby and a 3 year old) while Abby and her oldest are at school and she is at work. Part of me is into it- I figure I can stay home and do laundry while Nora plays with the 3 year old and the baby does her baby thing. In my mind it will be idyllic, but I am afraid the reality will make me want to kill myself.
So anyway, today we did a test run with just the baby. Abby is way into helping out to feed the baby and diaper the baby and play with the baby, but I had forgotten how irritating her "baby" voice can be. It is this high pitched whisper that she uses to repeat the same 5 phrases about how cute the baby is and how little the baby is and so on. It is awful. Nora on the other hand was not so into the baby. She wailed when I put the baby down in 'her' crib. She tried to push her off my lap when I was giving the baby a bottle. Just when I was starting to fear that Nora was going to be scarred for life by this experience she did the sweetest thing. The baby was getting up from her nap and I was changing her diaper (with some help) and Nora disappeared. I could hear her, but couldn't see her. I finished what I was doing and then went to look for her. She started crying at one point and I found her on the stairs trying to bring the Bumbo seat up from the basement. She looked at me and said "beebee" and made em carry the seat up for the baby.
Cute right?
So this experiment had its highs and lows. My first priority will always be with my children and I am wondering if this is something Eleanor will get over or if this turf war between her and the baby will scar her for life and the pittance I make doing this will not even come close to what it will cost in therapy for her in 15 years.
Thoughts?

Sugar Highs and Sugar Lows

We have spent the morning recovering from a weekend that has thrown off all of our schedules. Friday night the ladies went to Tim's mom's house for an overnight. This was the first step in the downward spiral of our weekend.
I am well aware that my rules do not apply at the grandparent's houses, but my MIL is by far one of the worst offenders. Abby could ask her 'Grandma' (my mom is 'Grammy') for a pony and I think she would oblige. We had a prearranged time for me to drop the girlies off, but when I got there she was missing, and not answering her cell phone. I finally found her (she was at the grocery store buying them absolute crap to eat and more toys that they don't need.
I think she fed my kids refined sugar with ice cream on top for dinner then kept them up until 10:30pm, because when Tim brought them back on Saturday they had this glazed look in their eyes and kept talking about the donuts they had for breakfast and the cookies Grandma had bought them to eat with (for) lunch. I had to leave my little darlings before the sugar wore off in order to get Bridezilla and whisk her away for her bachelorette party.
Now, I get it that I am not THAT old, but I really think I am too old for this kind of bachelorette party. Now there were 7 of us, Bridezilla, the Maid of Honor (sitting, standing, dancing, whatever she was doing she is incapable of keeping her knees together and it just looks weird), the Matron of Honor (she is my infertility friend, have I told you about her?), the groom's sisters (young club hopping chicks), bridesmaid (she is the epitome of a Midwestern farm girl), and me. We started with a "pre-party" at the hotel we were staying at so we could drink and give Bridezilla tacky gifts. We then headed downtown to this drag show and things started going down hill.
So we all go to this bar in the heart of Boys Town and then the conversation starts about which waiter is gay, and which isn't (um, hello, they ALL are). There was also a discussion about the hostess and if she was really a man or a woman. All of this was not hushed, which made us "Those Girls". You know, the obnoxious Bachelorette Party with the bride in a feather boa and everyone drinking out of penis straws. There was no tact while at this bar, but the "Beyonce" was good, and I did a duet with "Tina Turner". When it was decided that drag shows were "boring" we left and went to this bar that the Maid of Honor had found online.
The great city of Chicago is filled with many bars that suit all different kinds of clientele. What we needed was a dark loud bar where these chicks could drink their faces off, dance, flirt, and not be totally conspicuous. Instead we went to this random local watering hole with a bunch of Lincoln Park yuppies who made our whole party the butt of their jokes (I can't lie, had I been on the outside, I would have made fun of us too, hell I did it while on the inside). All these girls took about
1,427,692 pictures each, and once the bar patrons figured this out they started fucking around in the background. There is some asshole in the background of most of these pictures doing something vulgar or stupid, or both. We finally got out of there and tried to go to a 4 am bar that I used to go to. Alas that was 100 years ago and it was gone, so we stumbled into this Irish Pub I used to go to. This place was great. We parked Bridezilla and her drunken posse in the back and made friends with the bartender. All was well until Bridezilla's blood sugar fell (she is a diabetic) and we had a minor medical emergency. A glass of juice and a few sugar packets later we were back in action and ready to go home.
In all, of the 7 of us, 4 threw up at various points in the evening (I wasn't one of them), 3 girls cried (again, not me), 1 girls blacked out, 1 girl made out with some random guy, 2 engaged girls exchanged numbers with some random dudes, and the bride was still drunk the next morning. While I managed to escape the evening with minor cuts and bruises (I woke up feeling like an ash tray), I can honestly say that this will be the last bachelorette party I attend. I hate to say ever, but I am going to anyway.
When I came home Sunday morning Tim had cleaned the house and the kids were at Sunday school with Grammy. They came home with "lunch" (leftover donut holes from that morning and Frosties from Wendy's for lunch- no protein, nothing green, just sugar). Nora refused to take a nap and Abby bounced off the walls until we made it over to Tim's cousin's house to do some tech support and family bonding. This is a whole other blog post entirely.
When we finally got home at 9pm my kids were cashed (My sister used to hate when I used that expression in reference to Abby, but it is so accurate sometimes). The sugar high of the weekend had worn off and the exhaustion had set in. Hence we are spending today eating only healthy greens and fruits with protein and grains. And we are all napping.
No more sugar for us.
At least not today.......

Reason #5182

I am fairly convinced that any married woman who claims to "really like" or "adore" her mother in law is lying. The same can be said about mothers of married sons and their daughter in laws.
That being said, this is reason #5182 that I think my MIL hates me, and why I hate her:



Why in the fucking hell would anyone ever buy me such nonsense? And seriously, she is one of the many people who tell me on a regular basis how small my house is, and how cluttered it is with a bunch of crap we don't need. Now my house is even smaller and I have to find a fucking place for these god awful fucking scarecrows that make me swear like there is no tomorrow. Seriously who in their right mind who liked me even a little would buy me such crap? What the fuck am I going to do with these things? I have to display them because she is so ridiculously excited about how "adorable" (her word, not mine) they are and how funny she thought it was that the little ones look just like Nora. Speaking of which, notice the lovely outfit Nora is wearing in that picture. That is one of Kathy's purchases, and seriously, my baby looks like she has been shopping at the Limited Too. Isn't she too young to be dressed like a hussy?

Anyone need some scarecrows? Here look at them again:

I'm not overreacting, am I?
Didn't think so.

Back to School

Tuesday marked Abby's first day of 4 year old pre school.

She woke up at about 6:45 (which is huge for her) and bounced off the walls until 8:55 when it was time to walk down the block to her first day of her last year in pre school. She had been asked the night before if she was ready for school and had said "No", but called me into her room later to tell me that the only reason she said that was because she wasn't dressed for school (everyone knows you can't go to school in your jammies!). Of course she had a wonderful first day, and made a new friend named Michael, and met the new girls, but they were playing with Annie (not Abby's favorite, and dare I say nemesis) so she didn't play with them yet. She is learning to write her full name and practiced reading a Bob Book to the whole class!
She was absolutely cashed all day yesterday from getting up so early the day before, but after an early bedtime last night and a good morning we got her off to her second day just fine.
Abby's second day of school marked Eleanor's first day of Parent's Day Out in the basement of Abby's pre school.

This means that one day a week for the duration of the school year both of my children will be entertained and supervised in the same location by someone other than me which leaves me available to clean my house (without 2 little cherubs destroying 2 rooms while I clean 1), go to a doctor's appointment or the like without struggling to find someone to watch my kids, I could go shopping without the the assistance of my darlings. I could do just about anything that fits into the 4 hour time slot I have been given. Can you believe it?
Me neither.

So why do I feel bad that this morning while Abby was fine, Nora clung to my leg saying "no" when I asked her if she was going to have fun at school. Why do I feel bad that when Abby was Nora's age she was at home with me and I never checked her into something like this. I was able to manage it, but for whatever reason its NOW that I need these 4 hours. And really, its 4 hours, I get it that it is not the end of the world, but can I be just a little neurotic about this?
Actually, I can't, I have stuff to do....ALONE!

Love Bites

Is it really Wednesday? I am so confused...
First, lets all say Happy Birthday to my fabulous little niece who turns the big 2 today. We packed up the troops and headed to the Motor City to be in Clementine's birthday bike parade this past weekend, and oh what a time we had.
My sister likens our visits to that of a travelling group of performers, gypsies if you will, who arrive in the middle of the night, do a show and leave before you can notice that they have trashed your house and fucked your kid's sleep schedule. We left super early on Saturday morning so as to avoid the Labor Day traffic in and out of the Windy City (seriously, Chicago traffic is such a fucking nightmare!) and got there in time to have donuts with the posse before the men folk headed out to some La Mans Belle Isle Grand Prix Race thingamajig (Tim has not really stopped talking about it since he went, and I am still marginally unclear on exactly what this was. Yeah, I get it, a car race, do I need to know more?).
While the guys were doing this the ladies all helped get ready for Clementine's birthday part. This entailed anyone under the age of 2 taking a nap while my step mother played with Abby and Amanda and I talked in the kitchen. Once everyone was up we went to the Riverwalk to splash in the fountain and give my dad's wife a geography lesson (yes, Detroit really is THAT close to Canada). Our day was capped off with Pizza Papalis, so I was a happy auntie.
Clementine's birthday party was wonderful despite some spilled Kool Aid on the white birthday dress and some other mishaps. By the time the cake was served Abby was so tired and overstimulated that trying to reason with her was just about pointless. Her head is in every picture of Clementine and her cake, and I think my poor sister is going to be photoshopping her out of the present opening too. It has to be hard to be the oldest. Last year Abby was able to open most of Clementine's presents because she was only 1 and totally uninterested. This year the birthday girl was totally clued in and Abby was constantly asked to sit on her hands, which sucks, but hey, that's life. Despite a good nap Nora was also kind of a mess in a different way.
It is no secret that my kids are slightly OCD about things. Abby has to have things lined up just so, and Nora finds the most random things to obsess about. Once the party ended all the little girls were playing in Clementine's play room. She has this fun little kitchen with a fridge and a stove, and a little sink to "wash" dishes in. For whatever reason Miss Eleanor was insistent that the refrigerator remain closed at all times. She and Clementine came to blows about this with little problem, but at the end of a long day when Abby and Nora had it out about the play refrigerator door it got ugly. Really ugly.
So Abby wanted to get the eggs out of the fridge, Nora wanted to door closed, Abby tried to explain, Nora screeched, Abby raised her voice, Nora bit Abby as hard as she could leaving a huge welt and two little girls in tears. I put Nora in a time out (the saddest one ever- the only good place was on a stool in the kitchen facing a wall- it was so sad) and comforted Abby all while trying to avoid a parenting lecture from my dad (it never came, thank God). Nora apologized to Abby (gave her a hug, really) and all was well after that, but seriously, biting, I don't think I can deal with that.
Quickly after this incident we packed up the Jeep and headed out so that my sister could try to piece back her house from having us stay for 48 hours. We got home late Sunday so that I could make my belly dancing show on Monday and get Abby off to school well rested on Tuesday. Thank heavens we are about to get back into a regular routine or school and dance classes. As fun as summer is, I need a vacation from my summer vacation.
Of course, pictures from this weekend are up on flickr. One of my favorites being this one:

Don't mess with her, she'll bite you.