How They See Me

I know it's way past Mother's Day, but I had to share these with you.  I've been so busy I haven't had a chance to get them on here yet, so better late than never!  We get these at our Mother's Day Tea along with a gift the kids make at the preschool every year.  It always makes me laugh what they come up with, although Lana was pretty dead on this year. 

WHAT?!  I COULD be 16!  Although that means I had Sonya when I was 9, but still!  And while I do enjoy sushi, I'm not sure why she thinks I like fish so much.  The only thing I could figure is because when I make fish at home, she is so traumatized by me trying to get her to eat it.  She hates it so much.  

I think Georgia thought they were asking her questions about herself:

Although she did get the age right.  Still makes me a teen mom, but I'll take 26!  

I can't believe I only get one more year of this.  Lana has graduation from preschool tomorrow, so that sobbing you hear coming from the direction of Los Angeles around 1pm?  That will be me.  

I Hope His Name Is Casper

Something weird happened in our house one night last week, when I was trying to get the girls ready for bed.  We were in the middle of our usual 7:15ish trying to get them to clean their rooms fight.  I was in the kitchen cleaning up after their dinner, and the little girls were in their room not cleaning up.  It was that time of day when the light in the house starts getting dark.  Not completely nighttime dark, but that kind of eerie, sort of half light half dark.  It was especially that way in the hallway.  The light is what I'm attributing to what happened next.  


Sonya walked into the kitchen visibly shaken and said to me,


"Mommy, I just saw footsteps go down the hallway and into the living room, but there is nobody in there."


I immediately stopped what I was doing, looked at her and said,


"What?  Say that again."


"I saw footsteps walk down the hallway, into the living room, but there's nobody in there," she told me again.


I walked into the living room and looked around, knowing there would be no person there.  However, I was freaked out at what I might find.  I've mentioned on this blog before, that I tend to be a bit afraid of certain things.  Ghosts are one  of them.  Yes, I know, I know they're not real, but who can really tell me that with complete certainty?  The truth is, we don't really know for sure.  I know my fear stems from the fact that the first scary movie I ever watched was when I was 8 years old.  My babysitter was so awesome that she let me stay up late to watch Poltergeist with her because my parents had HBO, and probably because she was afraid to watch it alone.  I fell asleep on the couch while watching it and woke up in my pitch black bedroom in the middle of the night, completely petrified.  After that I was certain it was only a matter of time before my closet swallowed me, and I was getting instructions to go toward the light.  I did resemble the little girl in the movie, which scared me even more.  As a result, I've always been fascinated/afraid of any kind of ghost stories; movies, TV shows, books or stories that friends tell.  There is a part of me that would like to have an experience and see one, but then there is the other side of me that is fairly certain I would shit my pants if I ever did come in contact with any kind of supernatural being.  That would just be uncomfortable for everyone involved.  


As for Sonya, she just thought there was someone in the house.  I don't think she's yet thought about ghosts being a possibility.  Once I assured her that nobody else was in the house, she went back to her business and they continued to get ready for bed.  I, however, was silently in freak out mode.  I pushed it to the back of my head until after I got the little girls to bed.  Then I sat down with Sonya, to get more information on her sighting.  


"Okay, tell me again exactly what you saw."


"Well!" She began.  "I was kinda in the girls' room and kind of in the hallway and all of a sudden I saw these footsteps walking down the hall."


"What do you mean footsteps?" I asked.


"Shoes," she told me.


"Just shoes... walking?" I asked.


"Yeah."


"How big were they?"


She held out her hands to show me about an adult sized foot.


"Men's or women's?"


"Men's."


"What color were they?"


"Black.  They were like the shoes Daddy wears when he gets dressed up in his suit," she said.


"Okay. And it was just shoes?  There weren't legs or pants or a person?"


"Nope, just shoes," she informed me.  


"So what happened?  They walked by you?"


"Yeah.  They walked by me down the hall and I stepped backward into Lana and Georgia's room and they walked into the living room, but then nothing was there."


OMGOMGOMGOMFG!!!!


"Huh.  Well, it was probably just your imagination playing tricks on you," I said, being as calm as ever.  I should get an Academy Award for how well I played calm.


"Yeah, that's what I thought, because I have a good imagination." She told me.  "There was one time I had a dream that you gave me THREE cookies for dessert, but then I woke up and realized that it was just my imagination."


Okay, so seeing shoes walking down our hallway and dreaming about an over abundance of desserts are not exactly the same thing.  Not to mention that every show or movie I've seen, or book I've read on the subject of ghosts suggest that kids and animals can see them because they are more open.  I know it's not something she made up either, because she is not the kind of kid to do that kind of thing.  Plus I saw the look on her face when she walked into the kitchen to tell me about it.  So either A-she did see a ghost- to which Andy made fun of me to no end when I suggested this, B-she caught a glimpse of the people living in this house in the parallel Universe (I'm a huge Fringe fan) or C-it was indeed her imagination.  For now, I'm going with option C, because my husband isn't to keen sleeping with all the lights on.  However, don't worry, if it is anything more you will get the whole story if we have to hire a little woman to cleanse our house and tell one of the kids to "go into the light". 

Living In A Perti Dish

Do you see this ridiculousness??  This is a result of what has been going on in my house over the past month.  My job title these days is pediatric nurse.  What are all those medicines for??  You ask.  Well, they are a direct result of me challenging the universe by having this thought run through my head two months ago,


"Huh-the girls haven't had a bad sickness all together in a long time."


Two weeks later, Lana got a fever, Sonya got a sore throat and by the end of the week they were both on antibiotics for strep throat.  Georgia, thankfully, never got it.  That time.  Yes, I said that time.  Because last week, Lana got ANOTHER fever and complained of her throat being sore.  I mean, it couldn't be that her strep throat came back right?  She had ALL of the antibiotics she was supposed to have.  Except that she could indeed have the strep back, as my sister Megan, who is a real nurse, informed me.  I was planning on waiting to see how she was feeling the next day before I rushed back to see the pediatrician.  She ate her breakfast of scrambled eggs the next morning, but only after the motrin kicked in and her throat didn't hurt so bad.  She seemed fine until 20 minutes later I heard her throwing up in the living room.  Lucky for me it was on the hardwood and not the rug.  So back to the pediatrician we went.  I couldn't figure where the throwing up fit in to her symptoms.  Maybe she did just have some virus.  However....


I gave the nurse the story of her symptoms and how she had strep two weeks before.  She said-


"Well, sounds like it could be strep again.  All you would need is for her to vomit and it definitely would be strep."


"Oohh, yeah, well she did that this morning too," I informed her.  I had NO idea throwing up was another symptom of that disease, but apparently it is.


The doctor came in, took one look in Lana's throat and confirmed, that along with all of her other symptoms, it was back.  This time she prescribed stronger antibiotics.


Now I was paranoid and constantly asking the other two,


"How is your throat?  Is it sore?  Do you have a headache??"


They claimed to be fine each time I asked.  That is until Sunday, when Sonya started to say her throat was a little sore.  GREAT!  The last thing I needed was for her to be sick this week, the last week of school.  The week where they do nothing but fun stuff.  The week that she had been talking about for TWO WEEKS!  Except when she walked into my room Monday morning I knew she was going to at least miss that day of school.  Not only was her throat still sore, but her left eye was swollen and pink, and what I was 100% positive was-you guess it-pink eye.  It was then I flash backed to the last time we went through all the girls being sick like this.  That's when I became certain she did have strep again and that for Georgia it was not a matter of if, but when.


I called the Pediatrician's office as soon as they opened and when I got the receptionist on the phone I said,


"Hey Rebecca!  It's Kristi Dadekian calling again.  It looks like Sonya has pink eye and she's complaining of a sore throat so I'm pretty sure her strep is back too..."


"SERIOUSLY?!"  Was her response.  I love that Doctor's office.


So back in we went where all my suspicions were confirmed.  Sonya was more than a little unhappy to be kept home from pajama day at school. If I'm being completely honest, I would have said "screw it" and sent her had it not looked like she went a few rounds in the boxing ring.  Instead she had pajama day at home and caught up on some episodes of Glee while eating creamsicles.  I felt bad, so she got a little spoiled.


By the next day all medicines had kicked in and she was good to go.  That's when Georgia started to tell me it "hurt in her mouf".  Here's the thing, I wasn't sure she really did have a sore throat or she thought it was just the thing to say.  Everyone else in the family was getting medicine, why shouldn't she?  Especially with her being the youngest, and wanting to do everything her sisters do.  So I waited.  The next day on the way to pick Lana up from school, Georgia was eating a granola bar and said to me,


"Mommy, it hurts when I swallow."


So...


"Hi Rebecca!  It's Kristi again..."


"Can you come at 4:15?"


"Yup."


Three of a kind my friends! THREE OF A KIND! They all got it.  So all those medicines you are looking at break down like this-


Sonya-antibiotics twice a day, eye drops 4 times a day


Lana-antibiotics three times a day


Georgia-antibiotics twice a day,  in addition to the two medicines (one twice a day, one once) she takes to prevent her migraines-which by the way, I don't think are working.


Soooo....Yeeeaahhhhh....Good times at my house!  On the plus side, I am ALL SET when Andy and I get older and have to take a million pills a day for various reasons.  I've kept everyone's medication straight.  Well, so far anyway.

Keeping It Clean

You would think that once you have potty trained your kids, you are all done with wiping asses.  You would think.  As it turns out newly potty trained three year olds aren't so great at wiping themselves, so you still have to do it for them for a while.  It's usually about another year or so when the figure out how to do it themselves. Then there is just the matter of checking them after they do it to make sure they don't leave any witnesses behind that might streak their underwear, and EW I just grossed myself out!  Sorry!  Anyway-just part of the job.  Sonya has been wiping herself, no problem, for years.  I should hope so, since she is 7.  Georgia still needs a little help.  Then there is Lana.  Why do I feel like I write that line often?  


For whatever reason, Lana has had quite an aversion to wiping herself after she poops.  I don't know if she just wants me to do it because she likes the attention from me, as weird as that sounds, or if she just finds it icky.  I could never get an answer from her about it.  I realized in December that she would be five soon and starting kindergarten and it was something she really needed to do for herself.  The Kindergarten teachers certainly weren't going to do it. They make that perfectly clear when you go to Kindergarten round up.  "We do not wipe butts!"  So for months, when she yelled,"I'mmmm dooonnee!" from the toilet, I've encouraged her to wipe and I would come check.  This has resulted in her getting upset, frustrated, screaming and even tears sometimes from  me.  Every time I just gave in and did it for her.  No amount of me pleading and saying "Lana you have to do this for yourself if you want to go to kindergarten!" would sway her.


Then I found out that when I wasn't around to wipe her, like when my parents were here or when she was at school, she WOULD do it herself.  So it wasn't an icky factor, she was playing me.  She seems to be REAL good at that.  So a couple weeks ago, I turned it around in my favor.  Remember the good behavior chart I started a while back, when I was trying re-discipline the girls?  Well, I decided to use that. Every time she pooped and wiped herself-with me checking to make sure it was all good-she could color in a star.  She was on board and within a week she was wiping herself, by herself, clean.  I was a bit worried that once she wasn't getting to color in a star she would resist again, but on Mother's Day I realized that wasn't going to happen.


We had gone out to Lupper, or Linner, whichever you prefer to call it.  (It's just the day I don't cook, so we eat out all day.)  We were at the restaurant and Lana decided she had to go potty.  She is not one to usually poop in public restrooms, but when you gotta go...  Georgia had to pee so I took them both and Lana went to her own stall.  After she was done she asked for a wipee so she could make sure she was clean and I asked if she needed any help.


"Nope!" she said.  "I got it!"


Upon hearing this, Georgia looked up at me from her toilet seat and said,


"It looks like Lana is aw set to go to kindagaten!!"  


Yes, it does.  And my job-at least that part of it-is done here.  

Double Standard

Here are the toothbrushes my girls have right now:

Kick ass, right?  I mean my girls have superhero-typically for boys- toothbrushes.  Granted this was mostly Georgia's doing, because she picked out this three pack since it had Spider-Man in it. Yes, she is still obsessed with Spider-Man for some unknown reason.  Sonya and Lana were on board with using The Hulk and Wolverine, for their brushes, even though I had bought them girly ones in case they didn't like those.  Last week I was looking at the toothbrushes sitting on the counter and thought to myself,


"That's so cool that my daughters like superhero boy stuff and can be swayed from pink and princess from time to time."  And that is totally okay and accepted.  Nobody would question it and most people probably think it's cute.  HOWEVER-if I had boys and these were the toothbrushes they picked out....

...I'm not so sure it would be quite as accepted and cool.  I mean I wouldn't care, but I can only imagine what other people would think.  Yes, it's a double standard.  This girls win this one.  It's okay though, because boys come out on the better side of the rest of the double standards in life.   

The Eye of the Storm

I'm not sure what's going on with Lana in the past couple days, but she's been a bit of a pain in the ass unruly.  I can't even blame the full moon this time, unless that recent super moon has had a lasting effect on her.  Perhaps it's her upcoming preschool graduation that is stressing her out, as she tries to figure what she's going to do with the rest of her life.  Whatever it is, she's been averaging about two timeouts a day for the past week.  Something she hasn't done in months. 


Yesterday she started yelling at me and became angry as we were leaving our Mommy and Me class.  I gave her the three count, she didn't stop, so we immediately went to the car where I told her she was going straight to time out when we got home.  She proceeded to scream the entire way there. Thankfully we only live about five blocks from the school.  As soon as I unbuckled her (which she wasn't happy about) I threw her over my shoulder, walked straight to the "ducky" bathroom (the time out place), put her down and closed the door.  She screamed, yelled, cried and kicked her feet.  I heard her flipping out and throwing things around.  I continued to ignore her through the yells of, 


"MOOOOOMMMYYY!!!  COOOOMMMEEE HHHEERRREEE!!!"


About three minutes into her timeout, the thrashing about and yelling abruptly stopped.  I thought maybe she had realized how she was acting and calmed herself down.  Perhaps she was finally understood the situation and was ready to behave a bit more rationally.  Perhaps I forgot  that she's five and that she's Lana, because the quiet was short lived.  She started her screaming and crying again at full volume, right before her time out ended.  After the timer beeped I walked into the hallway toward the bathroom and found this outside the door:  

Then I walked into the bathroom to find this on the mirror:

Don't worry, it's dry erase marker so it will come off.  


















I guess she was mad.  However, she managed to ease off her anger long enough to write her name with a flower and heart beside it.  I'm assuming this was the brief pause I heard in the tantrum.  I suppose it's good to know she can turn it off and focus when she wants to, so there's still hope for a less volatile Lana in the future.  If only I knew how far off that future was...


   

Word To The Mothers

Since Mother's Day is this Sunday, I thought I'd take this post to acknowledge and say thank you to some of the moms I know.  These are moms who have helped me in my quest to be a better mom to my girls.  I am so grateful and blessed to have all of you in my life.


A big Happy Mother's Day and thank you:


First and foremost to my sisters Beth, and Megan.  Without you two I would have gone insane six years ago.  I love that we all have kids close in age, even if we are not close geographically.  I know I can pick up the phone to call one or both of you for help, advice, or more importantly, just to bitch.  Never underestimate the power of a good ol' bitch session.  We don't.  You two are my Xanax.  I feel like we've always been close, but sharing the experience of motherhood has bonded us even more.  I love you both!


To my sister-in-law Brenda. From being the oldest in our family, to having younger sisters with the same name, to marrying a Dadekian boy, you and I have much in common.  I know I can always count on you when I need something.  I lucked out when you married into the family, and you are an amazing working mom.  You really make doing it all look so easy.


To my mother-in-law, Julia.  Thank you for doing a fantastic job as a mom to your boys.  Your hard work has given me a husband who is a phenomenal father to our girls.  Thank you also for not being one of those mother-in-laws who constantly sticks her nose in our business.  You give us our space, but are always helpful and there when we need you.  I love our girl chats when you come to visit.


To my Aunt Robin, Cousin Donna, and Cousin Michelle.  You three have been through some hard times as a  mom.  Donna I know this last year has been worse for you than anyone.  You've all always come out stronger on the other side with experience to share with other moms.  Donna,  this will be a hard Mother's Day for you, but please know I am thinking of you.  I love you all!


To my friends Carey and Laurie.  Our girls are the reason why I know you, but I consider you both friends of mine now.  I would never turn down a chance for coffee (or wine) and a gab session with you ladies. Your girls are great kids. They are the kind of kids I like for my girls to be friends with.  I always love trading play times with both of you.


To my first real mom friend, Stacy.  I didn't know any other moms when I had Sonya.  It took me until she was ten months old to find a great friend with a baby the same age, even if they were different sexes.  At first it didn't matter, I thought for sure it eventually would, but it still doesn't.  It's so nice that Carter and Sonya have the kind of friendship that goes past Barbies and Transformers.  Thanks for always being there when I needed someone to watch the girls when I was pregnant (both times!).  I'm especially thankful that you moved back to Burbank so we can hang out again.  I forgot how much I missed you!


To one of my BFFs BethAnnDoddKoehn.  Even though we might not have been as close for a while after high school, I love that having kids has brought us together again.  (Hmm-did that sound a little gay?) You are so important to me because you are my people.  We get each other when most people don't.  Thank you for moving back to California.  Texas was so not the way to go.


To my BFF Melissa.  I was so excited when you had Kennedy last year.  It meant you got to experience everything I had for the past  six years.  It meant I got to hold a baby again.  It meant that you got it now.  You got what I had been bragging/bitching about for forever.  You've been one of my best friends for so long and I'm glad this is another part of our friendship we can share.  Now, have another one so you can REALLY get it!


To my college friend Trista.  I was happy when you had Eben last year for the same reasons.  Because you get it now too.  I always said you needed to have kids, and I'm so glad you decided to.  Eben is an awesome baby.  (Minus the 4am screaming session at my house.  It's okay, we've all been there.) We need more moms like you in the world, because you will raise him without all that crazy "helicopter parent" nonsense.  He will be a strong, smart, great kid.  I have no doubt.   Now, you have another one too!


To my friend Ann.  Thank you for letting Andy and me practice having kids, with your kids.  I will never forget holding Jack as a newborn and then two weeks later getting pregnant with Sonya.  It's like holding him put my uterus in prep mode.  I am always amazed by how you balance the amount of work you do and still find a way to give so much to your kids.  Do you sleep?  Ever?


To my friend Melinda and my oldest friend Kelly.  And by oldest I don't mean in age, but in friendship years.  We've been friends for 32 years.  Crazy!  Anyway-I know you two don't have your own kids, but you are Godmother to two of my girls.  (Melissa is Sonya's but I already mentioned her on here.)  Thank you for making  Lana and GG feel extra special.  They can all tell you who their Godmother is.  Even though your are far away Kelly, Lana asks about you all that time.  Thank you both for always being there for me and my girls.


This one might seem odd to some of you but- to Heather at dooce.com.  Some of you hear me talk about her as "the girl whose blog I read".  I stumbled across her blog before I had Sonya and am always thankful I did.  Her blog got me through my first year of motherhood before my sisters or any of my friends had kids.  It was during a time when I had a very screamy baby, family far across the country and days of feeling very alone in this job.  Her writing about  similar experiences with her baby is what helped get me through.  I knew I wasn't alone and I didn't have the only baby that liked to scream.  A LOT.  I thank her for her sharing her life as a mother to help those of us who needed it.  Even though I don't know her personally at all, I feel like she is a friend because of how much she's helped me and how I relate to her.  She was a big inspiration for this blog.   Her website is great and still one I read on a regular basis.  Check it out if you get a chance.


To all my mom readers, which is probably most of you.  I've known some of you for a lot of my life,  and some of you I don't know at all.  Thank you for coming to this blog, reading and supporting me.  I hope I have helped you in some small way, as Heather helped me, even if it's for a smile or a laugh that you needed that day.  I started this blog mostly for me, but have found that when I get a compliment in the comments or in person, I feel like I did when I used to perform.  It's helped give me an identity past just being "mom", even though I write about being a mom.  Irony?  Hmmmm.... Just remember, this is a tough job for anyone, but the benefits are the best you'll ever get.


And lastly, but certainly not the least, in fact the most important -MY mom, Ann.  You know how you always used to say, "just wait until you have your own kids someday!"  Well, here we are.  I get it.  I do.  Trust me, every day I get it more. Some days I shock myself when I hear my voice channeling you.  Even my shout of  "GIIIRRLLSSS!!" reminds me of being a kid.  Funny how history repeats itself.  You taught me everything I know about being a mom, and I have always said and will always say what a great mom you are.   I can only hope I'm doing as good a job.  You have been loving, caring, and supportive.  Yes, we've had our fights through the years, but you never gave up on me.  Even when I did something you vehemently disagreed with.  I thank you for that.  I always found a way out of my mistakes because I had a good guidance from the beginning.  I know the time will eventually come when I will have to let my girls make their own mistakes too.  However, I am going to cherish this time when I can still tell them what to do with a "because I'm the mom and I said so" explanation.  There are things that we still don't see eye to eye on and probably never will, but I hope the one thing we can agree on is what an outstanding job you did as a mom.  You raised three independent, strong, smart women who are doing a not so bad job as mothers themselves.  (If I do say so myself.)  Thank you for always being there whenever we need you, even to fly across the country for a weekend to watch your grand kids.  I love you!  Happy Mother's Day, Mommy.


Happy Mother's Day to all of you moms out there!  Now hand the kids to your husband/partner/babysitter and go do something fun like getting your nails done.  May I recommend the gel nails?

A Star Is Born

Yesterday was a big day for Sonya at school.  Every year the second graders do a performance of the musical, The Jungle Book.  As with most plays, there are some major speaking parts, smaller speaking parts, and then then there is the chorus. They don't have speaking parts, but are very important to the musical because they add most of the singing.  I've mentioned before that I originally moved out to Los Angeles to act.  In fact, I've loved performing since I was a kid.  I would try to find whatever theater I could do, which was mostly school related.  Andy was also involved in theater and has always loved acting.  In fact it was his original major in college.  So you would think this post would be about "Sonya-star of the second grade play!"   Except no.  Turns out she did not get that love of the spotlight from us.


At the beginning of the school year, one day when I picked her up, she was completely distraught.  


"I don't know WHAT I'm going to do!" She said, as she climbed into the van.


"Why?" I asked concerned. "What happened?"


"Well, the second grade has to do the play The Jungle Book," she told me.


"Oh that's fun!" I said recalling that I had heard about this the year before.


"No, it's not!" She told me.  "I am only going to be an elephant or a leaf, because those parts don't say anything.  I don't want to say anything because I am NOT one for performing!!"


Huh.  I thought perhaps I should do a DNA check to make sure we had brought the right baby home from the hospital, since Andy and I were very much ones for performing.  Then again, perhaps when you have two people who like to perform it creates the opposite effect for the offspring.  Although, I'm sure this won't be true for Lana.  


"Sonya," I said calmly to her.  "Don't worry about it right now.  It's not until later on in the yea, and I'm sure if you don't want a speaking part they won't give you one."  


"Ooookkkaayyy..."


She wasn't sure whether to believe me or not, but accepted it for the time being.  Then came auditions in February.  We had been listening to the CD of all the music in the play for a month and she knew most of the songs.  Then out of nowhere she said to me,


"I think I'm going to try for the part of the big elephant."


"But doesn't that part have lines?" I asked.


"Yeah, but it's not that much." She told me.  "I just definitely, do NOT want to be the panther or the Mowgli.  And definitely not the snake!"


Those, of course, were the main parts.  The parts that, when I was her age, would have done everything in my seven year old power to get.  Not her though. Nope.  She just wanted a few lines as the big elephant, and if she didn't get that she was fine with being a chorus member.  


A few days later she came home ecstatic because the teachers had given her the part of the big elephant, or Colonel Hathi as he, now a she, was called.  


Over the next couple months she would practice her lines when I wasn't paying attention.  I kept trying to run them with her, but she never wanted to and would get embarrassed.  I finally convinced her one day to do it, telling her that it would help her memorization.  Reluctantly, she did.  It was only a few lines and she knew most of them already.  I will say I helped her make a few adjustments, which I'm sure greatly helped her performance.  Or she just still did it the way she wanted it to.  Who can tell in 2nd grade?


She would come home from school and tell me about the days they would practice at school and how she was doing.  She told me how she learned to "cheat" to the audience so she was talking to the other performers, but still performing to the audience.  She, it seemed to me, was having a great time.


Then yesterday morning was the day of the show.  Andy took the morning off so he could be there too.  It started at 10:15.  She was nervous when she left for school but excited for us to see it.  Right before she left for school a little before 9am, Georgia started complaining of feeling dizzy and climbed into her bed.  Uh-oh.  Precursor to a migraine.  SHIT!  Then came the "I'm going to frow up!"  SHIT SHIT!  


"No, you're not.  Breathe!  You're fine!" I tried.


Yeah, except she wasn't fine and threw up in her bed.  


NOOOOOOO!!!  DAMMITCRAPSHIT!


I knew this was just the beginning and she was bound to throw up again over the next few hours.  So I had to figure out what to do.  Option one: One of us stays home with her, missing the play and disappointing Sonya, not to mention ourselves.  Nope,  I had to find a better one.  Option two-we bring GG and put her in the stroller.  I would stand at the back of the auditorium and when she feels the frow up coming on, I wheel her out.  At least we'd be there, but I'm sure we wouldn't make many friends that way.  Option three-hope that my neighbor doesn't have work until the afternoon and then beg him to babysit.  Fortunately, he didn't have to leave until noon, and no begging was needed.  Victor is awesome and was more than willing to help out.  We were all able to go to the play, minus migrainy Georgia.  


I don't know why, but every time I go to any of these performances with the girls I want to cry as soon as I see them.  Yesterday was no exception.  When I saw Sonya up there on the stage with her elephant ears and makeup, I got choked up.  I kept my eyes on her almost the entire time, and when it was time for her part,  she was fantastic!  She remembered her lines, she spoke loud and she did indeed cheat out to the audience.  And she didn't just say her lines, but said them with feeling.  She performed.  It was incredible!  Okay, I may be biased, and the little girl in her class who played Bagheera, might really have a career in acting, but Sonya was definitely one of the best up there.  We were so proud of her.  The whole show was so cute.  Even Lana was entertained the entire time and didn't ask once, "Is it almost over?"  


After the play was over, she came bounding down the stage steps to find us.  She was grinning from ear to ear and was pumped on some serious adrenaline.  I know well what that feels like.  It's one of the reasons I loved performing so much.  


"Great job, Sonya!  We loved it!  You did great!" Andy and I told her.


"Did you have fun?" Andy asked.


 "Yeah!  It was great!" She was beaming. 


 She was getting well wishes from all the parents around her.  She had done well and loved every minute of it.  Perhaps she WAS one for performing after all.  The good new is, at least we don't have to go to far if she does decide she wants to do more.  

Sonya as Colonel Hathi in the middle in front of the microphone.

Elephant Sonya and her best friend Gwen as a leaf.  Those are Sonya's flowers FYI.  Not sure how Gwen got the picture with them.  

Going To The Chapel

Remember a few weeks ago when I talked about my Grandpa having a girlfriend? Yes, well, yesterday they got married.  MARRIED, YOU GUYS!  AT 85!!  Can you believe it?  They decided to do this a couple weeks ago.  My parents were here at the time to watch the girls, but that was not a good weekend for Grandpa and his betrothed, so they decided on May 6th.  I mean at 85 why wait??  My Dad managed to get a flight back out here for the weekend, but since it's the end of the year for my school teacher mom, she wasn't going to make it.  It wasn't to be a huge affair, family only.  My girls, however, heard "wedding" and assumed something completely different than what it ended up being.  


I let them dress up in their Easter dresses, because they looked so cute in them.  Plus it's nice to get a second use out of the occasion dresses.  (Can't say the same for my Bridesmaids dress I wore a couple weeks ago, but whatever).  The girls came to a wedding with us back in October when our neighbor's daughter got married.  She had a big wedding, with the white dress, fanfare and all.  I'm pretty sure this is what my girls expected to see again.  Before we even left on Sunday they wanted to know how long it was going to be, because the one in October had been a full Catholic mass.  They wanted to prepare for how long they would have to behave.   I assured them that it would be a fairly quick ceremony.  There wasn't any music or walking down the aisle.  Just an everybody gather round- do you?, do you? kind of event.  


The family  got to the church around the same time.  We had to wait a bit for the few who weren't there yet, but as soon as they arrived, my Uncle-who is a Pastor-started the ceremony.  Grandpa, Meta, my Dad-who was the best man, and Meta's daughter-Matron of Honor, stood up in front of my Uncle and the church.  Meta was dressed in a simple purple pant suit and Grandpa in his church suit.  Nothing fancy.  About three minutes into the ceremony, as my Uncle is in the middle of talking and praying, Lana leans over and asks me in her, normal non-whisper, there-is-no-way-everyone-can't-hear-her voice,


"Mommy!  When is the wedding going to start?"


I gave her my mom -be quiet look, then half mouthed half whispered, "They are doing it now."


"But mom!  When is it going to start?!" She asked more insistently.


"Right now," I tried telling her again.


"Now?" She asked confused.  Then I nodded my head yes to her.  


She sat back in her chair.  Then about two minutes later leaned over to get my attention again, and in the same voice said,


"Is THIS the wedding?"


"Yes, Lana," I said.  Then I gave her the "Shhh"sign.  


She still didn't seem convinced.  Where was the music?  Where was the big white dress?  Where were the flowers?  I guess I forgot to tell her that at 85 you don't have the time or the care for all that.  They just wanted to be married to take care of each other for as long as they have left.  They looked completely happy and content to be there.  No fanfare needed.


After the ceremony we headed over to Marie Callendars where Grandpa had reserved the banquet room for us.  Now I'm not going to go and be a foodie snob and talk about how I am not a fan of chain restaurants, even though I'm not.  I know Grandpa doesn't have a bunch of money and this was an affordable place for him to take us all to celebrate, so I am appreciative.  And hey, at least it wasn't the Olive Garden, right?  However, this particular restaurant, was remodeling their bathrooms.  So the bathrooms for us to use were porta potties in the parking lot.  Now, granted, these were the top of the line nice porta potties, but still with that porta potty smell.  A smell that reminds me of Girl Scout camping as a kid but is so horrible and makes me gag to this day.  Do you know how many times little kids need to go to the bathroom during a two and a half hour celebration dinner?  No?  Well let me tell you. Three times.  THREE times, I had to march to the porta potty aaaalllll the way in the PARKING LOT.  Okay, so that was a bit of a pain.  And again, I am grateful for the dinner, but you know, I have to complain about something on this blog.  


On the plus side, my girls were exceptionally well behaved at the church and the restaurant. We had comments all around from our family and restaurant patrons, who we passed multiple times coming back inside from the bathroom, telling us how adorable they were.  I have to say, they most definitely were.  I was so proud that they weren't running around and acting crazy, which they sometimes tend to do in those situations.  Perhaps it's because I may have threatened to take treats away for two weeks if they weren't model children.  Whatever works people!  Whatever works.  


Toward the end of dinner Sonya leaned over to me and said, 


"Mommy, can we call Meta Great Grandma now?"


"Sure!" I told her. "I don't see why not. She would probably like that."


"Okay," she said.  Then she paused, looked at me nervously and said, "But I don't want to be the first one to do it.  Can someone else call her that first?"


I giggled at her then told her, "Don't worry about it.  I'm sure someone else will say it before you get the chance."


My Grandparents were married for 63 years.  Even though Grandpa won't have that long with his new wife, I'm so happy he found someone to spend whatever time he does have left who makes him smile.  I haven't seen him so giddy in years, if ever.  So Congratulations to Grandpa and our new (Great) Grandma!  Here's to making the rest of your years left on this planet worth living for.  

Rock of Ages (Three and Five)

In an effort to encourage my daughters to form an all girl rock band when they get older, Andy has been putting on rock concert DVDs every now and then for them to watch.  So far, they have seen Queen and Journey.  They like both, but Lana seems to be more of a Queen fan. She particularly likes the song Bohemian Rhapsody.  I mean who doesn't like to rock out to that song?  Certainly the drunk guy in Canada loves it.

A few days ago during lunch, Lana and Georgia were doing their best to sing as much of the song as they could remember on their own. After hearing it a few times, I finally picked up my phone to record them.  As you will see, Lana sort of gives up after she can't remember anymore.  Or maybe she only sings her favorite part.  Georgia carries it almost to the end, though.  First Lana gets the pink sparkly guitar, then they are  introduced to a good rock concert.  These are the building blocks my girls will point to later when they are doing their E! True Hollywood Story interview.  I only hope my disciplining methods aren't their source for painful childhood memories.  I mean, I did give them to the count of three!

Nailed It

I am not the type of girl who gets her nails done on a regular basis.  First of all, like I would ever have time for that.  Secondly, that shit gets expensive!  That being said, there are a few times a year when I will go get them done.  Mostly when I have parents or in-laws in town.  I usually try  to make an effort to at least get my toenails done a few times during the summer. They spend their time hanging out in open air with sandals, instead of stuffed into socks and shoes.  I feel a bit more pretty when I see them with color. It just feels more summery that way.   I don't always get my fingernails done though, even if I get a pedicure.  The reason is- about three hours after leaving the nail salon, the polish takes one look at all the housework to be done and starts chipping itself off my nails.  After about a day, I'm lucky if I have one nail with polish left clinging to it.  Since I'm not a lady of leisure, who never has to touch a dish or wipe a butt, it's just not worth it to pay the money to have my nails look good for a few hours.  Sure, I could wear gloves to wash the dishes, and I usually will for the first day.  Then the polish starts to chip away, I say "screw it" and go back to bare hand dish washing.  I don't know why I dislike gloves so much.  My mother-in-law is always bringing some to use when she comes to my house, because I never have them.  I just can't get into using them myself.  I digress...


Last year my sister and my mom went to get their nails done and told me about "gel nails".  It's polish, not fake nails, but they put a special kind of gel polish on your regular nails.  It takes a bit longer and costs a few bucks more, however, it lasts a couple weeks.  I called BS, because really-there was no way.  They assured me that their polish stayed on through washing dishes and kids.  The only drawback was it was a pain in the ass to take off.  


I had my nails done since they told me about it, but never bothered with it.  Last summer, I would get a pedicure and occasionally had a manicure, only to have it chipped by the end of the day.  I think I had just forgotten about it this so called wonderful gel polish.  Then a couple of weeks ago, I decided to get my nails done for my friend Sooz's wedding I was in.  I had remembered about the gel nails and decided to give it a shot.  


You guys... 


OH.....MY....GAWD!


My nails lasted for OVER a week!!  A WEEK I TELL YOU!!  I washed dishes, wiped butts, gave baths, cleaned counters, and bathrooms.  Not ONE chip  for over a week.   I did sorta wreak havoc on them on Sunday afternoon, cleaning all the outside toys and cleaning out the refrigerator.  So they sorta went to crap after that, but still!  It was the Thursday before that, I had gotten them done.  This stuff is amazing!  A-MA-ZING! It was totally made for us stay at home moms.  Well, those of us who do our own housework anyway.  I can't speak for any of the "Real Housewives".  I'm pretty sure they're nails stay because someone else does all that work for them.  Including wiping their kids butts.


The only drawback is that I can't really take it off myself.  Regular remover doesn't work, and I think you have to soak them in the hard stuff.  So I've decided I'm just going to go back to the salon and get another manicure and let them take it off.  At first I was just going to get regular polish, so I can take it off myself later on, but I think I may be addicted to this now.  I just want the gel ONE more time.  Wait, isn't that what addicts say? But my nails looked so pretty for soooo long!  I love it!  Although, I'm pretty sure Andy is sick of me shoving my nails in his face every day and saying, 


"But look!!  Not ONE chip!!"


He might just have to endure it for another week and a half though.  This time I might go with a color.  Perhaps something pink and summery.

My nails one week, one day and a lot of housework after getting them done.