18 years!

January 24, 2015

Today I’m reflecting on 18 years of marriage, because my anniversary is coming up and I’ll have been married, yep you guessed it, 18 years.  I was thinking about 18 years, and what we should do to celebrate.  18 years is no joke.  Think of it this way, think of when you celebrated your 18-year birth anniversary.  Birth to 18 years old is a long time!  Or what if you were on a deserted island for 18 years.  You would have the craziest Swiss Family Robinson house imaginable.  And you would be best friends with the tigers, and lions, and don’t even try to make friends with those laughing hyenas.  I wouldn’t trust them with a ten-foot pole.    Or what if you went to college for 18 years.  You would have the best degree in history.  You’d probably be, like, the Wizard of Oz, not including the part where he ends up being a total fraud. You get my point. 18 years is special.  And I need some good celebrating ideas for this special occasion.  I will admit that I love to celebrate. If there’s a holiday to celebrate, I will celebrate it.  Except today, which happens to be National Opposite Day and I’m not celebrating that because my kids like to declare “Opposite Day,” and then play that game, and I’m not good at it.  They’re like, “Mom, it’s ‘Opposite Day’” and then they start saying stuff, and I’m like, “I don’t play ‘Opposite Day’ because it’s too confusing!  Do you like me or don’t you?  Am I the best mom or aren’t I?  When you said that my outfit is weird just now were you remembering that it’s ‘opposite day’ or did you forget?”  It’s just too confusing, and I’m not about to tell my kids that today is actually National Opposite Day.  No thank you!  Today, I’m a party pooper. But Tuesday is National Chocolate Cake Day!! And that’s when my party hat comes on!  Am I right or am I right?  Who was the genius that decided to declare a National Chocolate Cake Day?  They probably have 18 years of college under their belt.

So back to me plans for the wedding anniversary.  I said “me plans” on purpose, because occasionally, I like to sound Irish.  Everyone loves an Irish accent.  And everyone loves Darby O’Gil and The Little People, and if you don’t then you must be from Mars, or you’ve watched it again as an adult and realize that it is actually kind of cheesy and not as cool as when you were little, so scratch that “Mars” line.  So anyway, I discovered that Saturday, which is my actual wedding anniversary, is National Inspire Your Heart with Art Day.  So I’m wanting to do an art project for me hubby (this time when I said, “me hubby” I was doing it in a pirate accent and not an Irish accent. Stick with me, I’ll keep you on your toes).  In the past few years I’ve been dabbling in art.  I’m no Picaso or Michaelangelo (heh heh, get it? I’m not as good as famous painters, heh heh!), but I can sketch a decent picture.  I even bought a book that teaches you how to draw and I used to draw with me kids (that’s Scottish).  Anyway, before Saturday I’m going to try to sketch my husband and we'll see what kind of stick figure picture I can come up with.  And although it may only be a simple drawing, that stick figure will have muscles and a charming smile, and a word bubble with a positive comment inside, because he says a lot of positive things, like, "You can do it!" and "Go for it!" and "Hey Honey, I brought you some chocolate from my trip!" and "You can finish my dessert, I'm stuffed" and "Hey are there anymore brownies?  I was really hoping to have one.  Oh, there aren't? They've all been eaten?  Okay, no worries!"

 I also found out that the traditional gift for the 18-year anniversary is porcelain.  Unfortunately, my husband doesn’t talk about porcelain a lot, so I don’t think it’s on his wish list.  However, we have two porcelain dolls that I’ve got stored away, and keep considering taking to the Goodwill.  Maybe instead of taking them to the Goodwill, I’ll wrap them up and present them to him.  I can personalize them by pinning badges on their dresses that say nice compliments about him.  Maybe I’ll have them hold signs that say, “You rock!” or “You’re a hunk!”  Is that weird to have dolls in old-fashioned clothes say those lines?  Maybe they should say something less modern, like, “I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of any thing than of a book! -- When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library” (Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice).  And the other doll could be holding a sign that says, “The Very first moment I beheld him, my heart was irrevocably gone” (Jane Austen, Love and Friendship). After 18 years, definitely the latter quote is more fitting:).

Just Chillin' part two

The "Just Chillin'" parent strikes again (see entry from January 9)!  I went to my daughter’s second gym meet. I’ll try not to blog about gym meets too much, because then we'll have to change the name of the blog to Gym Meets R Us, or All You Wanted to Know About Gym Meets, and if that's the new name, you'd have to get a new author, because I know very little about gym meets or how to keep your 21-month-old child from throwing her baby doll on the gym floor during a competition.  Yes, that happened! Arghh me hearty!!  Seriously, while getting ready for this gym meet, I was so ready to rock the "I'm a relaxed mom, who's got a lot of class" look.  I put on a nice outfit, including jeans, and for me, jeans are fancy.  If I was Nancy in the book Fancy Nancy, I'd be like "And I loooooove jeans!!!  Jeans are a fancy name for what you put on your legs....More jeans, se il vous plait (that's "please" in French)!"  But I'm not Fancy Nancy, so jeans are not my fav.  Also if I was Fancy Nancy, I would mainly address how to eat fancy desserts, and watch fancy movies.  So back to what I was saying, getting ready for the meet... I did my hair, and I put makeup on.  So I get there, and the gym is huge, and the competition is happening on the first floor, while the audience watches from the second floor.  There was a track that ran around the gym on the upper floor and spectators watched from there.  So while our little gymnasts competed we looked down with smiles and cameras.  When my seven year old was competing in the vault event, I was standing on the track almost directly over the vaulters (kind of like a balcony).  My daughter ran down the vault runway, jumped on the springy thingy and did some kind of vault thing-a-ma-bob.  And then she proudly saluted to the judge.  And then my 21-month-old child chucked her baby doll over the side and it went about twenty feet down.  It landed right where people could see it. And the announcer said over the microphone “Please refrain from throwing babies onto the floor" (she really said that so we could all hear!).  My child did not just drop it.  She chucked it!  Threw it!  And to make matters worse, that baby doll did not have any clothes on…not classy!  Why couldn’t we have brought our American Girl doll with her fancy dress?  Why couldn’t my baby have been holding my report card from college that had good grades on it?!  From now on, my baby is going to carry around an award that I got in the past, but not my 12^th place ribbon that I won in a swim meet as a child (true story, and I still have it), and she can chuck that off of any balcony (the other award, not the 12^th place ribbon), and the announcer will be like, “Please refrain from throwing awards onto the gym floor” but that sounds a little classier.

Who's the best snuggler?

January 9, 2015

Tonight I was snuggling my five year old to sleep.  My seven year old asked me to snuggle her and I told her that I would after I snuggle my five year old (I don’t say, “after I snuggle my five year old” to my seven year old.  We’re not that formal, but I do like to call my kids “Mr. Magoo” or “Ms. Magoo,” and while “Mr.” and “Ms”. sound formal, “Magoo” is not formal.  No offense, if your last or first name is “Magoo”).  So my five year old is like, “You can go snuggle her (the seven year old) if Dad comes in and snuggles me.”  I wanted to ask him, “Who do you like to snuggle more?” Of course, I didn’t ask.  And it’s not like I’m competing with my husband, but let’s face it, he’s kind of a cool guy, and he’s a lot of fun.  For example, my kids love to wrestle.  And they like to ask us to wrestle with them.  And often, when they ask Dad, he’s like, “That’s pretty much the only thing I want to do right now!  Bring it!” And then they have a wrestle party with the cool dad.  When they say, “Mom do you want to wrestle?”  I’m like, “never,” but I don’t say that.  I actually, on occasion, have found myself saying, “Okay.”  And then I get in wrestling position, and I do a couple of “air” moves, and then I look surprised and go, “Oh, I have to do something real quick” and then I dash off leaving them in a state of wonder (not wonder like, “Why is she so cool?” but wonder like, “where is she going?”), and I grab a cookie and hide in a corner.  They usually forget about wrestling once I’ve finished my treat.   But Dad wrestles, and wrestles for a long time, and comes up with new wrestling games for dads and kids, and then writes a book on it and has a photo shoot with the kids that is included in the back of the book (as I’m writing this he actually just said, “I just finished making all of the kids sandwiches for school.”)  Can you blame me for wondering, “Who do you like to snuggle more?” 

Also, Dad’s really good at doing homework and school projects with the kids.  And I’m like, “Boo homework!!!”  And I want to say to my kids, “I don’t know why you guys put up with that?”   But I don’t say it, and I just watch in admiration as my husband encourages my kids to “Reach for the stars” and “Never settle” and “You’ve got plans” and “Don’t ever give up” and “An apple a day keeps the doctor away” and “Happy + Ness = Happiness” and “If you go to sleep with a smile on your face, you’ll wake up with a smile” and “Follow the Yellow Brick Road” and “If you go to sleep dreaming about what you want to be, when you wake, up you’ll magically be it,” and lots of other encouraging statements.  But I had a really cool moment today.  My 2^nd grader needed help with her homework and I took the bull by the horns, and I was like, “Come here, I’ve looked it over, and let me talk to you about this,” and she was like, “Okay,” and I talked to her about capitals, and commas, and adding, and stuff, and I’ve got to admit, I was killing it!  My confidence soared in that moment, and I realized that I could do anything if I set my mind to it, as long as it’s not over 4^th grade. 

Just Chillin' (for pretend)

My daughter had a gym meet Saturday. This is our first year with competitive gymnastics.  And when experienced gym parents would talk about being nervous before performances, I would think, “Why would you be nervous?”  And then I went to her first meet, and I almost had a heart attack.  I’m watching, and my daughter performs, and her first score goes up, and I’m like, “I can’t handle this!! It’s too much!!” And my sweet seven-year daughter is just having fun being with her friends in gymnastics and is handling the whole thing like a champ and is chillin’.  So I’ve got to play the “chillin’ parent” part.  Because I often have to fake coolness.  But I can’t fake it for too long.  I am not sophisticated. And when I’m around sophisticated people there is no faking it.  To make up for the sophisticated silences (that come from those people during conversations) I often spill my life story, and I talk about my insecurities, and weaknesses, and social security numbers, and stuff I just didn’t mean to say.   Because I just can’t handle that much coolness.   And there is a sophisticated gym mom who keeps talking to me, and she’s great, and a friend, but when there’s a high anxiety situation, with cool chillin’ people, and then I’m thrown in the mix…not a good combination.    I overcompensate for how I’m really feeling, like, I'm about to have a heart attack, but I'm want to pretend that I'm feeling fancy and carefree!  So my daughter falls off the beam during her performance, and I yell “It’s okay sweetie, as long as you’re having fun!” And they show the score and I’m like, “Hey turn that score upside down and it looks like a smile!!”  And people are looking at me and I feel the need to crank my "no worries" attitude up a notch and say, “Boy oh boy, all this gymnastics makes me hungry!  Anyone want a burger?  Burgers all around for everyone!  You get a burger and you get a burger and you get a burger!  I’ll be right back, I’m going to get burgers for all of you fine people!”  And then to my sophisticated friend, I’m like, “Text me my daughter’s next scores...the lower the better!!!” because like a magnet my lame comments go to her.  And she just looks at me, and I can’t help it but I say, “Did I tell you about my last doctor’s appointment?  It was a doozy!”  

I Do Believe in Fairies!

May 7, 2015

“I do believe in Fairies!  I do, I do!”  Okay, maybe my five-year old son didn’t say it exactly in this way, but that’s what he meant.  The other day, I was walking up the stairs, taking my two year old to her crib for nap time.  As I approached the top of the stairs I realized that I didn’t have “Blanky” and she does not nap without it.  In fact, she won’t take another blanket.  In fact, she will not even allow another blanket in her crib, (except for the one that covers her dolls, but that’s another story, and I don’t like to get off topic:)).  In the wintertime, I would try to give her a warmer blanket, and she would say “No!” So it was really important to have this blanket for her nap.  I looked downstairs and saw my sweet 5 year old sitting close to the blanket.  I said, “Can you bring me ‘Blanky?’” And my son said, “Ughhhhhhhhhh!!!”  And then he said, “I do everything!” I put my baby in her crib and told her I would get her blanky.  I went downstairs and grabbed the blanket.  While doing this, my son said, “Mom, do you know why I didn’t get the blanket?  I wanted to see you do it, because you never do anything.”  Seriously?!  I don’t even need to go over all of the things I do, but let’s just say that this child does believe in fairies, and they do his laundry, and pick up after him, and play with him, and read him stories, etc.  Maybe I should’ve been annoyed with this comment.  But it actually made me giggle.  And as I’m writing this blog post, my five year old son picked up a stem that had been broken off of a flower, and said, “Mom, do you know what this is?”  And I said, “No.”  And he said, “Can you guess?”  And I said, “Um a stem?  A stick?”  And he said, “I have a Mother’s Day gift for you. Do you want it now or on Mother’s Day?”  I let him decide and he decided that now was the time.  He went upstairs (He does go upstairs), and came back down with a flower with the stem partially cut off and stuck it in a plastic cup of water.  He presented me with my gift and I gave him a great big hug!!  So I decided that he must think I do something!  And then after he gave me the flower, I read him a book about fairies, because I really wanted to tie the end of this blog in with the beginning (It feels better when I can do that).  And at the end of the fairy book, I said, “I do believe in fairies!  I do, I do!!”  And he just looked at me weird, and for a brief moment I was glad that he couldn’t read.  I didn’t need him saying, “That’s not what it says!” and ruin the end of this blog for me, when I was tying things up just perfectly.  Oh yeah, and at the end of the book my son was like, “Mom I believe in fairies, because you are a fairy.  You look like a fairy.  And you do a lot, just like fairies do a lot!”  And he didn’t say that with his mouth, but he had a look in his eye, and that’s what he could have been thinking.  I don’t know if that’s exactly what he was thinking…what am I, a mind reader?!  Anyway, fairies, blankies, doing things, and stuff.  The end.