It’s So Nice To Be Irresponsible

Now, you may be thinking this will be a cynical upsetting blog entry as my title seethes a bit of sarcasm. But indeed, it will not. I am currently on a hiatus from the everyday mommy responsibilities escorting my husband on a business trip for A WHOLE WEEK! eeeeeeek! What am I to do?! Well, apparently nothing I don’t feel like doing or anything I want!

To be able to stay out late and wake up late and skip breakfast and eat whatever I want whenever I want is, how do I say…BLISS!

I have taken a stroll in 70 degree weather along a beautiful waterway, I have eaten a pleasant salad that would make a vegetarian salivate, I have put my pajamas back on mid-day as I am contemplating a nap (the hotel bed is just so large and inviting). I have even considered checking out the hotel gym (I stress “considered”). I have had two cups of coffee and a large-ass cup of hot tea. I don’t know why that pleases me so to share, but it does.

The evening meals and events are already planned and scheduled (not by me) and all I am required to do is enjoy myself and appear at the company functions tomorrow and the next day in support of my love. But even then, not until late afternoon! (I hope I’m not leading on this king-size bed…it might get the wrong idea thinking I am trying to forge an intimate relationship). purrrrr

I must say, I do have an urge to tidy up the end tables and the bathroom sink area, but I’m sure the urge will pass soon and quickly.

Even though this may not sound like much fun for most people, let me just say that it DOES sound wonderful to most moms. Especially moms of children under the age of four or so, but not excluding those with ones older than that. We enjoy the small things in life…a shower, a hot cup of coffee, a clean shirt, being able to pee all the way in one sitting. Being able to have a complete conversation with her husband, holding hands while strolling…strolling! Being able to put on a nice dress for the evening and enjoying a ridiculously expensive meal WITH drinks! The adult beverage kind!

So, I think I shall enjoy these precious eighty-two or so hours left (yes, I just counted down) and see what comes up. Oh boy! So exciting!

It’s My Daughter’s Birthday and All She Wanted Was a Cookie Cake

My daughter celebrates an important birthday today. She turns sixteen years old. Sweet Sixteen! One-six. There is a “1” and a “6” standing together!

I’d like to say that I remember all of her birthdays as if they happened yesterday. But, that’s not true. The years have flown by and I remember some more than others.

On her first birthday, we threw a party at my mom’s house. Just family came to see her eat cake and blow out candles. I also remember one of her aunts bringing a rather large platter of chicken nuggets that my daughter very much enjoyed.

On her second birthday, the family, including grandparents and aunts and uncles got to eat pizza with Chuck E. Cheese. What I recall the most is how much my daughter enjoyed being carried around by her loved ones to play video games and dance with Chuck and friends.

On her third, I couldn’t tell you. Same for birthdays four, five and on through ten. Heck, on through fifteen! Those memories flow one into the other on VHS tapes and prints from disposable cameras and more recently iPhone clicks uploaded to a photo site that no one looks at. I faintly recall gold pants, a Barbie cake, more Chuck E. Cheese, a few Disney trips with the grandparents, a silly scarf, dancing, Fudgie-the-Whale cakes, outings with aunts and uncles, bumper boats, eating at semi-fine restaurants, and lots of chocolate cakes.

She never asked for much or anything at all. Maybe it was because we didn’t celebrate with lavish parties. Maybe she was just shy. Maybe she just enjoyed the company of her family the most.

For instance, she is now at the age where she is legally old enough to drive…one would think she’d ask for a car. She is now also legally old enough to get an industrial ear piercing on her own…so, one would think she’d have the appointment ready, first available. But when I asked her if she wanted/still wants these things, she just shrugs her shoulders in a true “I don’t know” fashion.

What she did state clearly, however, is that she wanted a cookie cake. A cookie cake? Yes. That’s what I heard, too. Ok. I told her I’d get one at the local grocery store, easy does it.

But, alas…it’s never that easy, is it? None of the stores located in my area had cookie cakes for sale. I was quite flabbergasted and also bummed out that I’d have to bake one. Not because I didn’t want to, but just because…I really didn’t want to. Such a pain measuring and mixing, especially with a toddler trying to attach his large head to your foot. I dislike it immensely. However, it was such a simple request, how could I let her down?

The cookie cake turned out to be a success. And I semi-enjoyed making it because I knew she would like it and also because the baby was distracted by a piece of cereal he couldn’t quite reach under the dishwasher. It didn’t look much like a success, though…a mixture of fudge brownie and chocolate chip cookie deliciousness, piped with pink glitter icing, shaky lettering and two rainbow-colored candles. But, it was made with love.

I hope my daughter knows how much I adore her. I hope she knows that behind every stern warning and every strict order, that I love her. I’m sure she secretly wishes for a brand new car or even that piercing. But, I love that we spent her sixteenth birthday together laughing and enjoying dinner and a cookie cake made from the heart. This birthday, this one, I will remember. I’ll remember it because it was so simple. A simple request from a sixteen year old. And the simple things are the best things.

The Kids Ate All of the Strawberry Pop-tarts and There Aren’t Any Eggs

Well, it’s 7:40am here and I’m ready for breakfast. I have been awake since 6:30am listening to my husband’s morning rituals…always exactly the same 1) sit up and stare at alarm clock for 10 seconds give or take, 2) shuffle to kitchen to start the coffee, 3) shuffle to the living room to turn on his current news crush…currently The Today Show, but previously Robin Meade and prior to that I believe it was WPTV5 for the weather girl, 4) search for some breakfast food to eat with his eyes closed, 5) shuffle to the bathroom to turn the light on, 6) shuffle to the closet to take out his pants, his shirt, his belt in that order! 7) shuffle to the bureau for fresh socks and shorts 8) shuffle off to the bathroom for primping.

FINALLY! I can get back to sleeping!

This morning, though, the baby is flopping around next to me in the tempurpedic. Knee in mommy’s back…nope, not comfortable. Heel on mommy’s ear…not quite yet comfy. Smelly diapered butt in air right next to mommy’s face…ah, juuust riiight!

I guess this means I should tend to the little golden child. After getting him situated with a clean diaper, a cup of milk and a breakfast cereal otherwise known as Goldfish (forgive me…he was wailing and I haven’t yet had any coffee), I gave my goodbye to the hubby and tried to settle in for a bit more of cuddling with my blanket, so warm and enticing.

But, no…mommy is not going to sleep anymore today. Let’s play and giggle and fart in mommy’s face while she lies there in a half-coma! This all from a 20 lb. child that I should be able to control but I just can’t seem to without my coffee!

I decide I might as well get up and make the damn coffee and check the various news feeds I frequent while the baby watches his Sprout cartoons.

I search for something to have with my medium roast delight…peanut butter and toast…nah, don’t feel like it. Cereal…nope. Banana…nope. Strawberry Pop-tart…suuuure. But, wait, it’s not there. Three boxes of various flavors WERE there but now there’s only half of one box left. And, it’s NOT strawberry…grrrrrrr.

I’ll just make my normal scrambled eggs and cheese then. But, all hopes were dashed as I remembered my husband used the last five eggs to make brunch. I’m so sad…

I reluctantly choose the lonely Brown Cinnamon Pop-tart in its foil wrapper, left behind by its companion that was snatched up and eaten in the middle of the night by a pesky teenager. I finally resign myself to this dry pastry because I’m just in the mood for something sweet and a sugar rush is not always a bad thing, especially when attempting to eat sugar-coated cardboard.

As I take my first bite, I look over to check the baby and I see his eyes glazing over as the warmth of his blanket envelopes him…that little bugger is falling back asleep!

And I’m now wide awake!

Oh well, good morning, fellow bloggers, fellow coffee drinkers, fellow moms and dads, fellow zombies! Hope you have a great day!

My Daughter Wants To Freeze My Head, My Husband Wants To ______, and I Just Want To Be Crafty

Any given evening, you may hear a full-on cynical but always-in-jest joke and/or occasional flatulence sound escaping from a couch cushion. You may also hear the waffle iron sizzling or a battery-operated toy truck running constant against a wall. Don’t forget the blaring assault of television commercials or that familiar tweet sound from those smart devices attached to our palms.

But sometimes, an important and serious issue will come about (in this instance probably three times now) that just rocks me. My daughter wants to freeze my head when I die! Actually, she wants to freeze all of our heads when we die…as in, cryogenically.

She wants all of us to be together forever and I think it’s very sweet, in a morbid kind of way. We researched it once before online and found there are only a few sites equipped to do such a thing at a cost of about $30k per head. My daughter states that is do-able as she will be rich when she is old. We asked her why would she want to do such a thing and what about spouses and children and grandchildren and what about our bodies and what does it all mean and why and how and when and, and…

“I just want us all to be together,” she claims.

“Even Sean?” (her brother who is two years younger and quite annoying) we inquire.

“Yes,” she responds.

Then we all just laugh and laugh and laugh.

As this discussion has ended, I get up to go to the kitchen, and my ass is greeted with a firm smack accompanied by a sly smile from my husband. And so you know what that means. But, anyways…

I hear them talking and laughing some more and I walk back in the room and my husband says guiltily that they shouldn’t talk about it anymore, it’s not very nice. And I ask what is it. And he chuckles and says it’s nothing. But I ask again and he simply states that he just doesn’t understand why I’m hoarding “those canisters.”

“Those canisters” are for a project I want to do. I have collected about 25-30 Gerber baby snacks cans over the past year. You know them. They are short and round and covered in yellow. I have them all in a trash bag in the garage now. But, the baby must’ve gotten some new ones because I am finding them all over the house…under my bed, mixed in with his toys, in the pantry. My husband complains that when he opens the pantry to get his lunchbox every morning that they fall on his feet. He also complained that they stink.

“But I wash them before I use them for my craft projects!” I retort defensively.

“Oh? Well, what have you made?” he questions me with his beady little eyes and toothy grin.

“Well, I made some holders for our daughter to store her makeup and brushes and stuff,” I offer.

“And what else?” he chides.

“Well, nothing yet. I have to buy some materials but I don’t want to spend the money,” says I.

“Well, maybe you could build a robot with them,” he shares, mockingly.

And then we all just burst with laughter at the whole ridiculous conversation and stupidity of my hoarding ways and the audacity of me building the body electric.

Such is the current status of our life as a family. Maybe I can build a robot to accompany our frozen heads. Maybe my husband will get lucky. But, anyways…

We can laugh and we can love with the best of them and we often wonder if other families are like ours. My daughter says no but I’m going to say yes, maybe with less gaseous fumes, though. That part, I kind of envy.

One of These Days I’ll Pick a Theme and Stick With It But Right Now I Have To Check Out the Neighbors Fighting

I know that my indecisiveness is due to perfectionism, but seriously, I can’t stop playing with the themes that WordPress offers (and by that, I mean the free ones because I’m also hideously frugal). I also can’t figure out my darn profile name…changed three times by now…watch it be 370 times by the end of the year. It all may just be a distraction until I figure out my next writing subject.

So anyways, my mind raced all day yesterday of what I’d like to focus on writing this year…like, during my morning walk as I pushed the stroller I thought of writing about my goals as a mom/wife. (I’m sure there’s hundreds of bloggers doing that shit!) During my incline push-ups against the kitchen while waiting for the cinnamon rolls to finish baking, I thought of writing about my struggles to get a consistent workout done despite a demanding and very vocal toddler. (Isn’t that overkill by now?) Or even, during a sprint past the television to retrieve a clean diaper to change a stinky diaper, I heard some guy encouraging Al Roker and Natalie to pick a word for 2014 that would change their lives for the better. (Hhhhhmmm…that kinda sounds like a good idea!)

Later that night, I had a tossing-n-turning fit in the bed sheets trying to banish a scary movie out of my mind watched earlier that evening with the big kids. All I could think about was the face of the creepy monster-lady staring back at me with her maniacal grin. I tried to hum a nursery rhyme tune in my head but that made it even worse. I switched to my left side and covered my feet with the blanket and dared close my peepers. It took me a long while. Then I saw it. I saw it as I stared at the back of my eyelids…

CALM.

It was the letters that spelled “calm.” They were floating in the shallow water of the ocean along the shore, a very bright and sunny day, perfect were the colors of the water and the sand. The letters shimmered and flowed along with the ripple of the waves they were riding. My-oh-my my mind makes pretty pictures!

It must’ve helped me because I slept a peaceful sleep and awoke this morning trying to search for the image on Pinterest (yes…my go-to for all things pictures, crafts and DIY projects), not finding anything close enough. That’s quite alright. I’ve seen the image many times this morning already, closing my eyes every time the baby kicked me in the face while drinking his milk, or showing me he needed a diaper change, or heating up my coffee in the microwave for the third time. Or even hearing the neighbors, two adult sisters they are, fighting over some attitude adjustment needing to be made. (I know this because I peeked out my bedroom window and saw them in the driveway arguing in their Christmas pajamas). I listened for a good five minutes and I watched for a good two minutes, wondering if a slap or a punch would occur. Wondering if they noticed my peeping ways, wondering if they could use my word…CALM.

Along with my many resolutions for this year, I’ve also picked up a new theme for myself, a mindful one, to keep the nagging monsters and baby habits and outside nuisances to a minimum. I’m going to choose to be calm, I’m going to consciously do it rather than just hope it is so or waiting for it to be.

Yep…I got this…I can do calm.