We had a bit of a rough morning around here.  I was rushing around trying to get everyone dressed and fed and realtively presentable for Storytime and Delaney was sobbing because David had stolen her new pad of paper.  (Daddy gave a Staples pad to each kid and they've been walking around with them for days like little reporters.)

Delaney was crying, screaming, bemoaning the fact that David wrote on the "TOP PAGE" of her "NEW PAD" and now it wasn't perfect and he didn't do it right and she needs a new one.  She followed me through the whole house telling me how she NEEDS to have a new pad RIGHT NOW.  As I'm trying to explain we don't have any more pads/she can just tear off the top sheet/tough luck/just deal with it/write on the second page I am slowly starting to lose my patience.  Soon I'm yelling.  A bit later, I've given up on trying to reason through her tantrum and I'm just silent.  Then, as Delaney sits on the toilet peeing and crying at the same time, this conversation transpires:

I went from wanting to slap her to laughing and giving her a hug in .6 seconds.

I made kind of a "Spring Resolution" to stop watching shows like CSI, NCIS, Law & Order, etc.  I realized that combining all that crime right before bed with my pregnancy hormones was sending me over the edge and really warping my view of the world. 

So last night, I resisted the urge to watch the NCIS season finale and turned on Frontline instead because it was all about social networking sites.  Harmless, right?  I mean - this is PBS for crying out loud.  WRONG.  The program started out just talking about the impact of social networking sites on teens' relationships, but by the end they were interviewing all the parents whose kids had committed suicide due to cyberbullying or hated them for exposing Facebook videos to other parents or were hiding an eating disorder.  Then they interviewed all the teens about how "clueless" their parents were about their online habits.

These toddler years are tough.  But I think the teenage years are going to be like ripping my heart out and running over it with a truck a few times.

You are cordially invited to the bonfire party I'll be throwing in mid to late August where I throw all my maternity clothes in a pile and burn them. 

You know those nightmares where you need to run away from a bad guy but your legs are made of jello and you’re running through thigh-deep mud?  Or when you need to get to an appointment but you can’t find your keys and then you can’t remember the way to get there?  I hate those kind of nightmares and I have them all the time.

And lately, I have been living one.   Last night, I was just trying to cook the “grownup” dinner while the kids ate their dinner.  To sum up:  David pooped on the floor at the same time that Delaney dropped her glass full of milk all over the dinner and spewed glass shards all over the food and the kitchen.  As I stood there aghast trying to decide what to clean up first (and which was worse for my barefooted kids to step in – poop or glass shards?) I burned our dinner.  In conclusion, I cried while I vacuumed and tried to imagine what adding a crying newborn baby to the mix would have been like.

I woke up this morning refreshed, revitalized and refusing to feel down.  Today was Dentist Day.  I had prepared for weeks.  (to give you a little background, when Delaney turned 3 I took her to three different dentists, spent a small fortune and she refused to even open her mouth)  Now that Delaney is four and “SO BIG” and sleeping in the top bunk, she said she was ready for the dentist.  We got books from the library on the subject, we talked to her friends who are old pros at going to the dentist, we have discussed what would happen at the dentist ad nauseam.  We were ready.  And I was pumped. 

It just so worked out that I had to babysit Delaney’s best friend this morning as well, so I had an extra kid tagging along.  I was actually kind of glad about it because I figured it would be good moral support for Delaney.  

So I’m running around like a wild woman all morning, getting everyone dressed, fed, teeth cleaned, all the while yelling “Oh won’t it be so fun to ride up and down in the chair!”.  Our appointment was at 9am – perfectly timed so that I could be home by 10:00 when the City and our plumber were coming by to fix our leaky water main (another story for another blog).  Plus, I also wanted to be home quick because we were having mulch delivered and I wanted it dumped in a certain place.

Everything is running along smoothly, I even had a chance to shower and put on relatively nice clothes.  I’m watching the clock and yipping cheerily “Oooh, I wonder if they have Princess Stickers as a prize for good kids who open their mouths?”  I’m wrangling all three kids into the minivan with promises of lollipops at the bank afterwards if they will all JUST GET IN THE CAR and I’m looking at my watch – WOW!  I’m really gonna do it.  I’m really gonna get there on time!  

And that’s when it happened, I started to get cocky.  

I got everyone buckled and slid into the driver’s seat.  Glanced down at the clock – 10 minutes to spare!!  Wow, I thought.  I may even throw on some lipstick.  Then I start fantasizing about how I’ll breeze into the waiting room with my huge prego belly and three kids in tow.  The receptionists will say, “Wow, you have it so together…how do you do it…the other moms who come in here are always late and look like crap…”

While I fantasize, I slide the key into the ignition and NOTHING HAPPENS!  I don’t yell in a rage, I don’t throw my sunglasses.  I calmly lay my head on the steering wheel and start to have an out of body experience.  I watch myself slowly spiral into panic as three kids start chanting, “BANK, BANK, BANK…” in the backseat.

I scan my street for neighbors – nothing.  I call my brother who I know has the day off and is probably still in bed – nothing.  I call my friend who I know is usually driving by to drop her son off at school right about now – nothing.  My palms are sweating.  I call my husband and he reminds me of the handy dandy battery charger we have in the garage.  I merely have to plug it into the outlet in the basement, run an extension cord to the car and it will charge.  

Phew.  Because I am NOT going to give up on Dentist Day after all this preparation.  And I REFUSE to get charged for missing an appointment and pay one more cent to a dentist for nothing.  I call them and ask ever so sweetly to push the appt back to 10:00.  They say ok.

I start to run the extension cords, but they aren’t long enough because the van is parked on the street (to make room for the aforementioned mulch delivery).  I call my husband in panic mode.  Sweat is pouring down my back because I am

1.  Freaking Out

2.  Seven months pregnant

3.  Dressed in jeans and a long sleeved shirt and the day is getting hotter and hotter

He says it is ok to use extension cords from the house.  I decide to let the kids out of the van so they can at least play while I do this.  I’m running like a maniac from room to room, upstairs, downstairs, in the basement pulling extension cords from the wall and running back out to the driveway to see if they are long enough yet.  No.  David is climbing a bush in a neighbor’s yard.  Delaney and her friend are rolling in sidewalk chalk.  I am swearing and spewing death threats.   I finally remember one last extension cord that is hooked up to the porch lights, grab that and VOILA it reaches!  “OKAY, now you will hear a whirring sound from the charger,” says my husband.  Nope.  “Go check the light in the garage,” he says.  Dead.  “Damn, that means it’s unplugged in the basement.”  Fine.  I run into the basement and with my HUGE BELLY have to climb up on an overturned bucket, onto a workbench to plug the thing in.  It starts working.  I have 10 minutes to get the kids back in the car and get to the dentist.  I am screaming at them, begging them, offering them extra lollipops.  

I finally get them all buckled in again and the car will still not start. I’m in such a state and I try so many times that I wear the battery down again.  Then, I see the City truck pull up.  I’m FRANTIC.  I race over to the window and ask for a jump start.  “We’re really not supposed to” the guy says. 

I start to cry.  Then I rub my belly for added emphasis.

He backs up, pulls the jumper cables out of my trembling hands and within seconds I hear my minivan start to purrrrrrr.    For the first time I realize that my shoulders have been tensed up to my ears for the past hour.  The guy says, “Yeah, this battery is shot, you really need to keep it running for about an hour or so.”

“So….you have a water leak, ma’am?” he asks.

“YEAH!  It’s in the basement,” I yell as I peel out.  “AND PLEASE DON’T ROB US!”

We make it to the dentist, only about 2 minutes late.  I’m sweating, mascara is running down my face, the kids are covered in dirt and sidewalk chalk dust, and I’m glancing over my shoulder every 2 seconds to make sure no one is stealing my new minivan that I have left running in the parking lot.

Here I thought these receptionists would be so in awe of me.  Instead they were probably wondering if they should call the Department of Social Services.  

You ever have a day like that?

A friend of mine recently went out to dinner with a group of moms from her 2 year old daughter's daycare center.  She said the night started out fine, but quickly digressed into a "Mommy bragfest".  Apparently, it was sickening.  Everyone just went on and on about their kids, trying to one-up everyone else.  And it's not like they were talking about college acceptances - these are 2 and 3 year old kids!

I've definitely been in similar situations, and it is really annoying.  What causes this?  Do these mothers really think we want to know every single detail of each milestone their kid reached at such "an early age"?  I know that secretly, on the inside, every mother thinks her toddler is a genius.  But keep it to yourself!!!  No one else wants to hear about it!  Is it some kind of survival-of-the-fittest-instinct thing?  Or like when dogs try to establish dominance?  For instance, when a bunch of moms find themselves clustered together do they have to try to verbally one-up each other until they've established which kid is more advanced?

The thing about these mommy bragfests is that sometimes it is SO HARD to resist getting sucked in.  After 20 minutes of standing around a playground hearing about the highly advanced gross motor skills of little Jonny So and So, sometimes instead of "Shut up, please" you just hear yourself blurting out, "Well, my little one could climb the ladder at 9 months".  

Even though I ate scrambled eggs, toast and fruit for breakfast at around 6:30 this morning, I was still scanning the snack shelf by 8:30 - 9:00.  I finally just gave in and ate a big plate of leftover Thai Curry at 9:30!

I'm finally full...for now!

I had a great Mother's Day.  It started with breakfast in bed!  Eggs, toast and coffee served on a tray - it was pretty impressive!  And, I only had to share a few bites of toast with David while he snuggled next to me while I ate.

In addition to breakfast in bed, Jonathan gave me a gift certificate for a 90 minute pre-natal massage.  I am beyond excited.  Although I think it will be hard not to lose conciousness during a 90 minute massage.  That's a long time.  I wonder if you're allowed to have a snack halfway in between???

It was a beautiful sunny day today and after breakfast, I took the kids with me to visit some old friends which was really nice. We had lunch at my parents' house and then came home.  I took a walk downtown while both kiddos napped and bought them some new crocs for the summer.  Then we had Thai food for dinner.

All in all a great Mother's Day.

in no particular order....

When he's playing cars or trains, he loves to use my legs and arms as his "track".  It seems to be much better than the floor or, say, a real train track.  He'll sit for many minutes just quietly "choo-chooing" along my leg.

When he's asking for juice or milk and I'm not paying attention, he'll come over and grab my face.  He puts one little hand on each of my cheeks, looks me square in the eye and says "Mommy JUICE!"

He starts to dance in the yard as soon as he hears the ice cream truck turn into the neighborhood.  Not because he likes ice cream, but because he just likes to dance.

He calls Delaney, "Guy".

In other funny news, I had a telemarketer hang up on ME tonight!  It was great.  My kids were clamoring for attention so loudly in the background that this woman just totally gave up.  God, it must be really annoying to talk to me on the phone.

ARE YOU DOWN WITH O.B.B??!!!???

I am! 

Operation Bunk Bed is a success!

Both kids have fallen asleep in their new bunk beds the past two nights.  It took less then a week.  I am a rockstar!

The weather was fantastic and I kept having the feeling all day that I just wanted to "tag" the day and be able to re-live it whenever I want.

Delaney had Storytime at the library and for the FIRST TIME EVER she went into the room by herself while David and I stayed back in the children's room.  She lasted for most of the class until apparently some other little boy had a breakdown, so Delaney decided she'd leave too.  At any rate, I was very proud of her.

Then we went down to the playground.  Right away, I noticed two other little girls who were wearing flowing skirts, tights and pink crocs and I thought, "wow, these are Delaney's 'people'."  And sure enough, after several minutes of stalking/watching them, Delaney walked over and INTRODUCED herself.  I literally almost fell over.  This is a kid who usually takes 20 minutes to warm up to her friends she's known her whole life.  So anyway, within minutes these three girls are thick as thieves running all over the playground and I start to notice that Delaney is leading the way!  It was crazy - like watching someone else's kid.

Then, the Mounted Police stopped by and let all the kids pet the horses and gave them all police badge stickers.  We went out for pizza for lunch and came home and put David down for a nap.

I chilled out with some ice water in one of our new "plasterondack" chairs while Delaney did sidewalk chalk.  It felt so good to feel the sun on my skin.

Burgers on the grill for dinner.

Still no luck with Operation Bunk Bed, but tonight was a little better.