Mama In Stilettos

Pool Watch 2008 (Continued)

So here's the weekly update on the pool situation. My neighbors have NOT closed the pool yet (although it is below freezing just about every night now). And I haven't seen Ebay deliver anything resembling a "do-it-yourself hot tub kit" along with a portable heater. So a hot tub is almost certainly out of the question. Right now it is looking as though either they are draining some water from it, or someone stuck a knife in the side of the pool and it is deflating (It wasn't me!). The truth is buried at the bottom of the pool..Laying under a film of mold and algae. It is no longer an oasis, but a disaster area that looks ghetto and condemned. I am about to get some yellow police tape and rope the area off as some sort of crime scene. A pool died here.

Although...If they do so choose to keep it up still?? Past Halloween when I throw glow sticks into it? I think they may be hosting the neighborhood's First Annual Polar Bear Swim!!

The Watchdog

It’s been one heck of a looooong day. It all started out when I attempted to start a load of laundry. I opened the basement door and started to go down the stairs and SH-ZAM!! There was a lake at the bottom of my stairs. Great. Just great. How was I supposed to deal with this? Especially with two little monsters running/crawling around upstairs. I quickly assessed the situation. At first I thought that the water was coming from the dehumidifier. THAT has happened before, although not leaving Lake Ontario on the floor. I open the door to the room with the furnace and water heater and some other things I am not sure what they do, but are big and noisy. The water heater!!! OMG! TONS more water around the bottom and coming out the top! And wouldn’t you know? It happened to flood the one and only cardboard box I had left to unpack and bring upstairs. Fine. I grab some towels, throw them down in fury and I do the thing I know best. I call Chris. Let him deal with this. Oh was I so wrong. “Are you kidding me? I am in class! The only reason why I am talking to you right now is because the teacher is not in the room yet!”. What? So now we’re in high school? Are you going to get a detention for talking to your wife about a broken water heater? A risk Chris wasn’t willing to take. He told me he would call the company and call me back. Quick! Before the teacher came! And then he’s going to put in his vote for homecoming queen too.

Chris called me back and told me that they would send “someone” out today to look at the heater. “what time?” I asked. “I have no idea.” Chris answered, “I have to go!” (click) Well, Mister Teacher’s Pet didn’t want to get caught on the phone, or get 10 points docked from his “pop quiz”. Argh!

“Hello!!!??” “HELLO!!!??” Omg. Someone is IN my basement. No door knocking, no ringing of the doorbell, just walking into my basement from my garage. Well, I guess I know that a burglar can just walk into my basement without my knowledge. Hey! He can even bring his laundry and throw a load in before cleaning me out of all of my expensive (read: cheap) jewelry and my stash of cash (HA! Good luck with that one buddy. I can’t even find where Chris has hidden it). I answer “Hello?” As I run down the stairs. It was the repair guy. Not a burglar. Too bad I cannot pull out my Jackie Chan skills….Yet..Let’s see what he says. “Oh...Looks like you got a leak.” YA THINK? I just stare and say: “ummmm..yeah, it’s seems to be coming out of the top mostly.”
“Yeah! It’s a leaker! You’re going to need a new one.” NO! Just fix this one..I don’t want to deal with this. “Do you have a piece of paper?” He asks. ummm..Then water heater guys proceeds to OPEN up a NEW roll of paper towel from my PANTRY downstairs, rip a piece of off and use it as stationary. Guess he won’t be needing that paper...huh.

I then have to go through the hoop jumping routine of calling the gas company to get someone out here to install a new heater. TODAY, because now I have NO hot water. “No, I am sorry, miss, I cannot find your account. Your address?” I answer. “Nope! Sorry! Your phone number?” I answer. “Uh, no. Do you have a recent bill?” I stare over at the “bill basket” that is so overflowing I cannot even explain it to you. It is my OCD husband who refuses to throw away any pieces of paper, so they accumulate in the “bill basket”. I am forced to swim through coupons, old bills, dated catalogues and FINALLY find a gas bill, but not before another incident. I slip in the remote for the dog collar. NO, the remote didn’t go off (sorry), but it slipped under my foot in such a way that it felt ALIVE. I felt as if I stepped on a MOUSE (Yes, so many flashbacks and severe PTSD). I let out a small and short scream over the phone. Again, embarrassing myself to no end and having to apologize for the representative’s now bleeding ears. At that point I think the rep felt sorry for me, as my children were whining, I was screaming and I’m sure her head was spinning. She said someone would be out today to replace the whole heater.

My parents have this whole week off, so they were thankfully around to help contain the kiddos while some of this was transpiring. After a while, around naptime, my mother offered up my father’s babysitting services to take me to out favorite coffee shop. Yea for coffee shops! I love this coffee shop called the Radical Roaster. Love the people, atmosphere, food, coffee..Need I say more? Is there more to life than that? Anyways, my mother offers to drive. “Geez, I hope I can drive your father’s car” (they had driven dad’s car over to my house). I get in the car and hope for the best.

OK. Hoping does nothing for my situation. My mother gives me whiplash and engages muscles in my body I don’t ever remember using in this lifetime. She claims that she is driving like this “because the gas pedal is sticking”. I have NO idea what the heck is sticking. All I know is that I am seeing the back of a certain truck all together too closely and I am thinking of where I can get one of those neck braces (and possibly get my doctor to prescribe me some good meds should I be in any pain or have muscle spasms after this little adventure). But I arrive at the coffee shop in one piece and celebrate with coffee goodness and good conversation. I was talking to an old friend, which was great! I love catching up with old friends, but there is also something about sitting in a good coffee shop and looking around at people you don’t know and listening to what they are saying.

Yes. I snoop. I spy. It never hurt anyone, or at least it hasn’t ever KILLED anyone that I know of..Well, maybe like Russian spies or something like that, but never coffee shop spies. Never.

I am sitting at a table and I hear two guys talking. These two gentlemen are probably in their mid sixties to seventy and are facing toward the large plasma screen above the fireplace. They are sitting behind me. This is when I wish I had a small tape recorder because these two men made my day.
Scene: Fox News is on TV. They are showing a reporter who is outdoors.

“Where is that guy? Eh. He’s wearing a terrible coat.”
“Yeah. The wind is blowing all around. All the leaves are on the trees.”
“Who does that guys think he is wearing a winter coat? Eh. In that terrible color. Eh. Where is he you think?”
“Ohio.”
“Ohio? Are you serious? Eh. He’s in Pennsylvania. Gotta be.”
“I like watching Hardball”
“Ah Hardball. Now, There’s a show. Eh, I don’t care about these other stupid things they got going on now.”
“Yeah, like the show with the circus colors.”
“ Eh. The circus colors.”
“Yeah, the old lady switches between the show with the circus colors..One of those ‘entertainment shows’..Oh! Entertainment Tonight. Then she’ll let me switch back to Hardball.”
“I couldn’t take that with the circus colors.”
“No, I hate it. But she doesn’t listen to me. You seen Chris lately?”
“Oh, Chris. Yeah, I seen him.”
“How’s his eye?”
“His eye thing?”
“Yeah, his eye thing.”
“Eh. It’s some ‘reservoir’ thing with the lenses. Ah. I don’t know. Had dinner with him. Up there on Route 9.”
“By Brooks Brothers?”
“Yeah, the plaza up there.”
“Was it good? What’d you have?”
“Eh. It was ok. I’m fussy. I just had some shells with marinara sauce. Brenda had some chicken thing and Chris had some fish thing. Eh.”
“But he’s ok with his eye?”
“Eh. Ah. It was a torn lens of some sort because he wasn’t ‘filling up the reservoir’ with the liquid or something. Do you know that his lenses fill up his whole eye. Even the white parts?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Eh. I don’t know how those kids do that. Get them in and out like that without hurting themselves. Eh. He sometimes gives his eyes a rest with his glasses.”

And on they went. I could have stayed all day listening to Gramps and PapPaw. If I stayed long enough they may have figured out politics or something. I don’t know. I wouldn’t put it past them.

So mom asks to have some drinks to go and off we went. Mom hands me to drinks and I get into the car. She DID NOT put her tea into the carrying device properly and I spill tea like a river down my leg and into her purse. Good thing she’s laughing. She cleaned this piece a few days ago and you never know which way it’ll go. I thought I may have been adding the car to my list of things to mop up. My mom starts the car and we’re off again whiplashing around, only this time, I am under strict instruction to NOT SPILL DAD’S COFFEE. That’s kinda hard when you are on a ROLLER COASTER. I put my thumb over the hole in the lid and OMG SCALD my thumb. But I did not spill the coffee. It arrived in perfect condition, like my new water heater!

Ps..Guess what I found under the water heater. If this were properly placed and not LAYING ON IT’S SIDE it would have sounded like a smoke alarm (oh god: refer to ‘Smoking Cars’) to alert us to the water. Probably would have saved me doing 17 loads of laundry to clean to towels used to mop up Lake George.

Fact or Fiction??

It time for another game called Fact or Fiction!!!!

Fact: Yesterday, while blowing leaves, my neighbor was wearing earmuffs. It was 65 degrees outside.

Yes! Fact! My neighbor was wearing what appeared to be red earmuffs while performing yard work. What is worse?? He had his 11 or 12 year old son doing the same thing while helping him. Poor kid is headed straight to pre-pubescent nerdville at a rapid pace and he has no choice. At least give the kid a choice! Or get there on his own volition! Don’t force him to take the nerd pathway by wearing earmuffs while blowing leaves!

Oh...I was later informed that the “earmuffs” may have be “noise silencers”. Ok. I get that. But why? Why do you need noise silencers if you preform yard work on the average of 1 hour every other week? I can understand the importance of this type of headgear, although quite unfashionable, if you perform yard work everyday ALL DAY LONG. For a LIVING. And you hear the sounds of lawnmowers and weed whackers in your sleep, or your body vibrates with the sounds while, say, your watching your favorite show, Lipstick Jungle. Only then can I understand this fashion faux pas. Also- some of these “noise silencers” pump music into your ears. So I ask you...What the heck is the freaking difference?? You’re either jacked up hearing the sounds of the lawn improving machines (which I find very comforting because I am ADDICTED to white noise), or your blowing your eardrums listening to Flo Rida sing “Apple bottom jeans..Boots with the fur…” I rest my case.

Fiction: Flat shoes (commonly called “flats”) are more comfortable than stilettos (or high heels).

A HUGE fiction! Everyone has always called me crazy because of my love (read: addiction) of high heels or stilettos. The higher the better. The cuter or hotter the better. The trendier the better. Anyhow, you understand my point. When I became I mom, everyone told me that I was “crazy” for wearing my heels and toting around my kids. I had no problems. I was born in heels. I think I came out of the womb wearing a pair of 5” patent mary janes. I probably broke my mother’s water with my heels. I never had any problems wearing my heels (except the slight “bobble”, for which I forever am made fun of my husband and various friends/family...Well, I have fallen a few times...But not so bad, and never with kids) until one day.

One day I was rushing like a mad woman to get to work (because I am perpetually late) and had to drop my son off at a friend’s house. I grabbed Nicholas out of his car seat and grabbed his two diaper bags and practically started running towards the house. In 5” stilettos. And a skirt. And tights. And hit a patch of ice. And there we went, pulling a full-on Britney Spears. Oops. My face took out the driver’s side mirror of my friend’s minivan. It was not a pretty site, as I am not graceful in the least. Nicholas was fine, as I sacrificed my body (and skirt, heels and tights) to protect his. I wiped the makeup off the mirror of the van, popped it back into place, gathered up my things, that were now in a ten foot radius, and headed into the house. Of course there was a ruckus. “Are you ok??” OMG!!” I was fine...Tights were ripped, I was a bit dirty, hands scrapped up. But I didn’t mind. I had back up tights. Then I noticed… My SHOES were SCUFFED. I practically fell to the floor in disappointment. Anything but the SHOES. C’mon I just planted my face on the side of a minivan and I can’t even have the dignity of walking away with my shoes being unscathed?? My day was ruined. To this day, I mourn the loss of those shoes, which have since been replaced.

So now, I am the mom of two and with winter quickly approaching, I decided maybe it was time to try out some flats. Maybe I don’t want to fall on my face with BOTH kids, especially in public. Might not be a sign of good parenting and I hate to draw negative attention to myself (positive? yes. negative? no.). So I researched the internet to no end in my search of cute and functional flats. And I finally found a pair. So BEAUTIFUL! Snip toe ballerina flats with a bit of patent leather and a bow. They were a bit pricey, but I figured, you get what you pay for...right?? Wrong! I wore these puppies to the mall the first time and I swear they could have been used for a device of torture. Every step I felt as if little knives were slashing my feet to shreds. By the time I left the mall, my feet were bloody pulps. I arrived home full of cuts and blisters and hobbled in the door with two kids and diaper bags in tow, sweating from the pain. This NEVER happened when I wore a decent pair of HEELS! I had to freaking bandage my feet from these cute little spawn of satan manufactured shoes. So, it’s decided. I will stick to my functional STILETTOS that don’t rip apart my feet at each step.

Fact: I saw an electrician of some sort whizzing behind the electrical transformer in the neighborhood.

Fact, fact and double fact!!! There are certain things that you don’t want to see, and there are certain things that you don’t want to see without your camera. You be the judge (heh, heh).

I was pulling up from grocery shopping (no easy feat!! read: ‘Smoking Cars’). As I am pulling into my driveway, I notice at the end of my street, something suspicious. The electrical transformer is about...let’s say 50 feet from my driveway. There was a man in “work gear get-up” (hard hat..tool belt..flannel shirt..droopy jeans, YMCAish), fiddling around the transformer. I was about to get out of my car for the circus of unloading groceries and kids when I noticed him cautiously look around and step behind the transformer. No way was I getting out of my car. What if he was going to blow something up?? I started to panic. He could practically blow up the entire neighborhood from that thing! Who knows what kind of mass destruction he could cause!? I needed protection! I was not leaving my car. You know how they say “don’t get out of your car if it’s lighting outside. The tires protect you.” I was hoping the same applied for what was about to go down here. I have full faith in my tires. They are fairly new and don’t have many miles on them (eh..except one does have that screw stuck in it and it is losing air slowly..oh great.). Or what if he was vandalizing something? I would need a description of this man and what exactly transpired during his misdemeanor.

Sadly none of these things happened. What happened was far worse. The man stepped behind the transformer after looking around for a bit and then I saw him look down for a second. Then his head appeared above the transformer yet again, looking around..Then down again...Then around...Then down..Then..OH MY GOD! He was peeing! Right there at the end of my street! 50 feet from my house a guy was whizzing behind an electrical transformer! There are so many things wrong with this! What if something, like a fuse, shorted out and he got shocked from the liquid (aka golden shower)? And I saw him go down? What was I supposed to do then? For sure he wouldn’t be “fully dressed”. omg. What is protocol for that? Throw one of my dishtowels on his exposed “part” and call 9-1-1? Or if I don’t have time for a dishtowel, a bunch of leaves maybe? But if they were too dry and things were still “electrical” and sparking and the leaves caught on fire...oh no. And, by the way, who does he think he is?? Tarzan and living in the jungle?? I’ve got news for you buddy. They're called “bathrooms” and there’s a little shopping plaza down the street with plenty of them. And clearly he’s not homeless because he doesn’t even have a shopping cart full of cans.

Instead, I decided to startle him. I whipped open the door to my Jeep and then slammed it with a vengeance, staring in his direction. He looked directly at me from behind the transformer, looked down (oh, give me a break..put it away, buddy!), and stepped to the side of the transformer, just as he finished “zipping.” The nerve!!! I glared and stomped to the rear of my Jeep and opened the trunk.

(Loudly) “Geez Nicholas, you need a diaper change. SOMEONE needs to be properly POTTY TRAINED.”

The Baby Monitor

Yes. I will admit it. I have lots of fears. Some of them include (but are not limited to): anything that swims (creeps me out with their slippery bodies...ech), dark water (I love the ocean, but if I can’t see my feet, then NO WAY. There are too many things lurking in there. Look at Loch Ness! Nessie's brother or sister could be anywhere!!) and, ultimately, there is the MICE situation. I absolutely HATE anything to do with mice because of a recent “housing situation” (which I will explain at a later date). My poor children will never have any sort of hamster/mouse-like creature and now I freak out if I see any sort of bat activity outside in the summertime. They are mice with wings! That and there was an incident with a bat at my aunt’s house where she came crawling out of her bedroom on all fours while I was down the hall. The look of sheer terror on her face as she said “There’s a bat in my room!”….See?? I am totally traumatized by many things. Thank god for therapy or I may have resigned myself to living in a house with no windows and lots of cats because they can take care of any mice or mouse-like creature that may enter the vicinity.

I also can’t watch many movies because I HATE when eyes glow or suddenly change shape, or something weird like that. I also hate when voices change. The worst?? Is when a guys voice comes out of a girl. Demonic. I shudder to even think of it. Paranormal crap. When I saw the movie The Exorcist I didn’t sleep for 3 nights. That was HUGE for me because I covet my sleep and try my hardest to keep myself on a schedule (unless I’m reading a great book, then all rules fly out the window and suddenly I’m looking at my clock..Oh crap! It’s 2am!)

But you know the thing that scares me the most??

The baby monitor.

It has such POWER!

I am so afraid of that thing, it’s uncanny. When I had my first baby, I would lie in my bed and stare at the little lights that flicker with each sound or movement the baby makes and POW! I was up out of bed like a sling shot and by the crib. It has the power to wake me from the deepest sleep with screams of terror, or wake me from the depths of dreamland with a simple, little, *cough*. ARGH! It’s insane! I don’t think that I’ve slept through a night in 2 and a half years because that thing has been sitting on my bedside table flickering and making me jump half a mile in the air at least half a dozen times a night.

Last night was another one of “those” nights. I decided to try to hit the hay early because I was falling asleep while singing the alphabet with my son. Not the greatest example I’m throwing out there, but I took action. 10pm. I was in bed and drifting. And finally….fast asleep.

2:15am: WAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Ooooooooooo!!! WAHHHHHHHH!

I throw back the covers like a superhero and speed walk (sans fanny pack) with my eyes closed to my daughter’s room. As soon as I open the door, I am assaulted with a pungent odor. I swear the air was green. Oh man. Fun times. I took care of the massacre and even changed her pajamas (I think with one hand and one eye open because I needed the other hand to hold my nose, and both my eyes were not functioning). Situation settled. zzzzzzzzzzz…..

3:35am: Ah? Ahhhh.. *cough*

I sit straight up in bed, ready for war, my heart already racing.

Nothing.

zzzzzzzzzzz..

5:10am: WAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! *sniff*

I, again, whip back the duvet and stand beside my bed, staring at the monitor. Lights stop flickering.

Nothing.

Climb back into bed.

zzzzzzz.

7:00m: WAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!WAHHHHHHHH!!!

Ok..Time for action. I slide out from under the covers (it was so warm!) and stumble towards the refrigerator. Pour a bottle, wait for the bottle to heat, all while my daughter is being attacked by terrorists (or so you would think). I, again, go into her room and almost fall to the floor, as I am smacked in the face with the smell of sewage. Great. It’s a repeat. WAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! I put her on her changing table and go to hand her her bottle…. my hand hit the bottle the wrong way..

Bottle=on the floor=Entire contents spread throughout the room on her hardwood floor.

WAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Ok..Take care of sewage problem, again change pajamas…. CLEAN FLOOR...Get new bottle….

Back to bed.

WHOOP! WHOOP!!

Great. She woke up the two year old. It’s going to be a WONDERFUL day.

The Remains

These, sadly, are the remains of a (grocery store bought..not fruit farm bought) pumpkin pie bought less than 24 hours ago. Bought last night at approximately 8:45pm. Did I have help with this pie?? Ummmmm.. no.

Now you see why I simply CANNOT have pumpkin pie in this house at ANY time. I have NO self control. It is my character flaw. I have come so far in life....But, darn you pumpkin pie!

Witches Brew

I’m not sure what’s going on with my neighbors. This past summer they put up one of those, what I like to call, "post and beam" pools. They took the time to construct it in a spot that gets a decent amount of sun, they bought a nice ladder and even got a solar cover for it. Seemed like they were creating an ideal tropical oasis in their backyard. Heck, I was jealous. My backyard is like a cliff in a forest. We have TONS of trees and a drop off in the back, and the grass doesn’t grow, therefore, we occasionally have a mudslide. I can’t even let the kids play back there for fear that they will fall on an exposed tree root and fall face first in mud, or dog poop. I think a big contributing factor to the mud problem is the fact that we have a sprinkler system...Yet we have no GRASS...hmmmmmm..Seems like a vicious cycle. Sprinkler system comes on to water the MUD. And no one seems to be able to locate where the dog relieves herself, so there is mystery dog poop floating around the yard. My kids have to play in the driveway and we risk all kinds of skinned knees and lost teeth on the pavement because of our little “yard problem”. But I digress.

My neighbors had this great little set up and I kept looking out my window at their seemingly ideal backyard. And I kept looking. And looking. NO ONE was using their pool. They have 4 kids and the mom stays home. All summer I never saw them once use their pool. NOT ONCE! Not only that, but I never even saw them come out of the house! The kids didn’t even play outside! Is something wrong with them? Are they allergic to the sun or something? Are they albino and sensitive to light? Noooo, I’ve seen them and they all look functional. What the heck?? I, for one, LIVE for pools. I grew up with one and my only dream one day is to have an inground pool (ha, not at this house, unless I want it to be more of a “mud bath”). I dream of floating around in the sun with my iced tea..all day. Yes, all day. I would live in my pool all summer. Possibly sleep there if I had a good enough float. Some of my greatest memories took place around my pool growing up. Who am I to spare that from my kids (ha..Who the heck am I kidding with that line? I WANT A POOL!)

Then there was the Fourth of July. Yes, I know fireworks are illegal in Massachusetts, but c’mon! It’s the freaking Fourth of July! We bought some legal fireworks over the boarder in Connecticut and smuggled them into Massachusetts (cause that’s just the kind of people we are). On the evening of the Fourth, we went outside and lit some off at the end of the driveway. Let me reiterate. The fireworks were far away from people or things..I think. We lit off a couple after we putzed around with sparklers. After about 3 fireworks (which were pretty good, if I do say so myself), the neighbor’s outside light goes on. Ok. What does that mean? We all (my family) look at each other and light off a couple more. Now my neighbor opens up his front door and sticks his head out. Says nothing, just sticks his head out of his front door at us. We’re all “what the heck?” It was about 8:30pm. You can’t tell me his kids were in bed or something. It was the Fourth of July!!!!! My two year old wasn’t even in bed yet and I’m a schedule nazi! And two of our other neighbors are firefighters, so I know if something goes awry, they will know what to do. They probably have big hoses in their basements along with all of their gear. I have no worries. Anyhow, it put a dent in our fireworks display because we didn’t want to piss off the neighbors anymore than absolutely necessary. After all, we had only moved in less than a year ago and already had many “other” incidents which included our dogs running the neighborhood SEVERAL times and me locking myself out of my house with an 18 month old INSIDE the house. NOT GOOD.

So now it’s the middle of October. The pool is still open and is a bright shade of green. The solar cover is laid out over their lawn to expose the pool to the elements. I just want to know what they are thinking. That’s all. Everyone closes their pool around Labor Day. That was a MONTH and a HALF ago. So what’s the plan? Are they planning on making a witches brew for Halloween in their pool? If so, they have a great start with that green glowing water. And, hey, I’m all about helping out, so if you want me to save any leftovers from dinner to throw in there, just let me know. I’ve got some potatoes that are ripe I could throw in today, actually. We could stir it on up with the skimmer. Throw little glow sticks in there on Halloween! HA! Maybe I’ll do that anyways, if it’s still open. Hey, I’m the one who has to stare at it from every single window on the back of my house (and yes, this includes my entire kitchen). Trick or Treat!

Flying High

I was "out of commission" for a bit this weekend with a migraine. I hate migraines. I am one of the lucky ones to be plagued with these little demons that seem to pop up at the worst times possible. I even take meds every day to prevent these suckers, but they still seem to get the best of me. This time it was when I was supposed to drive to Pennsylvania to visit my brother and his new wife (no, she doesn't hate me after the flopped bachelorette party, but there is still time...). I woke up Friday morning with what felt like a train charging through my head. I looked in the mirror to make sure my eyes weren't bulging out of my head because I felt as though my head was a pressure cooker. I popped some of my migraine (pain) medicine and headed for the coffee machine. I was also due to have breakfast with some friends and I WAS NOT going to back out. How often do I get invited out with the kids?? NEVER. And I needed the adult interaction and the "harvest pancakes" (which taste like pumpkin pie, thank you). As I started to get ready to go out, my migraine got worse. I was nauseous and everything was a bit "spinny". By the time I got the kids up the pain was so bad I would have smoked crack if it meant some sort of relief. So I popped some vicodin. Whatever. At least the pain should subside.

As I'm about to leave the house (literally. I had the diaper bag on my shoulder along with my purse, the baby in my arms and I was holding the two year old's hand), all of a sudden. WHOA. The migraine meds and the vicoden hit me. oooooookkkkkkkkkkk......Get kids in the car. Should I be driving a vehicle?? Absolutely not, but I was convinced that this WHOA feeling was going to subside. It sure as heck didn't.

I got to the breakfast place without incident, although I called my mom along the way and she told me I shouldn't be driving? Why? Could it be because I am high? Nah.

I think the breakfast was good. The kids behaved themselves, at least. Well, I don't remember yelling or anything. Or maybe they rocked the place and I totally didn't notice. I DO however remember the harvest pancakes and they were SCRUMPTIOUS! I may have drooled a bit while eating them, but yum!

I cannot for the life of me remember the conversation at the breakfast table. I remember the bacon being extra crispy and Nicholas' pancake coming out in the shape of Mickey Mouse, but nope, my mind is blank. I was meeting someone new too. I remember liking her and I remember asking pertinent questions, but I don't even know if I used my napkin. Did I snarf coffee? Was I slurring my words? Did I lick my harvest pancake plate clean?? Oh! I remember there being corned beef hash. Conversation?? I am drawing a blank. Was I nice? Was I funny?? I remember that I enjoyed the company, but that is about it. I do, however, remember leaving when Cambria started her shenanigans when absolutely NOTHING makes her happy. You could give her anything in the world and she refuses to be happy. I even tried giving her my cell phone and she wasn't having it. That's when you know the ship's sinking. Time to go. No turning back. We're the Titanic here, people! Check please!

I packed everyone in the Jeep with the help of friends possibly because I couldn't even walk a straight line. We say out goodbyes and I, again, take all of our lives into my narcotic little hands. I hop onto the highway and call Chris. I start telling him about my head (how it may spontaneously combust) and how I should not be driving---AHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chris: WHAT!!!!! WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?!?!?!?!? ANSWER ME!!

Me: AHHHHHHHH!!!! OH NO!!! OH NO!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Chris: STOP!!! STOP!!!!! WHAT HAPPENED!!!!!!

Me: I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Chris: WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED! DID YOU HIT SOMEONE?!?!?!?!?!

ME: (breathless and panting) No...Oh my God! A squirrel just ran in front of my car on the HIGHWAY while a HAWK swooped down onto the HIGHWAY to CATCH him. IN FRONT OF MY CAR!!!!!!!!! I don't know if I hit them!!!!!! I tried to swerve, but I couldn't too much without going into someone else's lane!!!!!!!!!!!

Chris: GEEZ!!! I thought you hit someone or something! Don't DO that!

Me: I don't think I hit the hawk all the way because I didn't feel a *thunk* under my tire. Maybe I just ran over his wing??

Chris: Did you look in your mirror?

Me: Yes. (sigh) And he looked all retarded on the road. His wings were all contorted. I don't want to think about it. AND there was a Mack truck behind me. Call me a genius, but I don't think he would even try to swerve to miss him.

Chris: If it's bothering you that much, then get off the highway and then get on again, just to see.

Me: See what?? See them both blown to smithereens? I'm already traumatized!! I don't need my trauma validated, thanks.

Chris: Geez, Sarah, You shouldn't even be on the phone talking right now. Just drive.

I drive the rest of the distance in silence (except for the siren in my head, of course). Could I have saved the hawk? What happened to the squirrel? Are they both (gulp) dead?

Talk about ruining my high.

Smoking Cars

In order for anyone to appreciate this tid bit, you have to understand my two year old, Nicholas. Nicholas has always had a bit of a problem saying the word "smoke alarm" or "smoke detector". Lately he has been MUCH better and has been able to say the words, but, again, this is extremely new. It used to be instead of saying the words "smoke alarm" or "smoke detector", his interpretation happened to be the word "E-F*CK". Yup. Insert proper vowel and you will have the full version of what my son called either smoke alarms or smoke detectors. He would point at them and say "e-f*ck", he would talk about them constantly and he would be sure to let you know if one was in the room. And, to make matters oh so worse, he was OBSESSED with them. I especially loved when we were out at a public place..say a restaurant or CHURCH (!!) and he began to point out where all the "e-f*cks" were at a decibel just above what everyone else was talking at. So, yes, everyone turned to admire the cute two year old with the truck driver mouth.

God forbid if one should sound off. The world crumbled as Nicholas became a bag of nerves and tears all while screaming "E-F*CK!" Where he got this? I have no idea. It may stem back to an incident involving my father cooking some steaks in the oven. The steaks sort of caught on fire and made the smoke alarms go off in the house. I had to run into the hallway with a dish towel to fan the heck out of the things to get them to stop screaming throughout the house. Mind you, this was a LONG time ago. But it made quite an impact on Nicholas. But I definitely don't remember dropping the f-bomb.

Today started out rough. It was grocery shopping day. As I pulled into the parking lot of the local market, I could see that it was busier than usual. Great. Lines. People. I hate crowds and I hate crowded grocery stores even more. There is nothing worse than a shopper not following the "road rules". Someone stops in the middle of an aisle..Someone is going the WRONG way down the aisle on the WRONG side. Tacky people. Just tacky. I, for one, think there should be blinkers, brake lights and horns on shopping carts. Wouldn't that make the shopping experience so much better? Less anxiety? No more "is this person turning?" "Is this person stopped?" Oh no he didn't just cut me off! HONK!!!! That's my bunch of bananas! Learn to drive! HONK!!

Now they have these shopping cars to accommodate mothers bringing more than one child with them to the grocery store (those "insane women with wild looks in their eyes"... aka myself). These carts have a mini coup car on the front of a regular cart. Pretty cool ride for toddlers. AND they get a horn. Those toddlers get EVERYTHING...Including my sanity. Well, today I drove around the parking lot twice and could not for the life of me find one of those shopping carts. I was so extremely mad I almost cried. The thought of having to hold a toddlers hand, while pushing a grocery cart, while checking the list, while entertaining an 11 month old was enough to make me look for a sharp object in my car so I could stick it in my eye. But I had to bite the bullet because we had nothing but french onion dip and hot dogs in the house. And I didn't want to have them for dinner again tonight.

I assembled everyone inside the store. Cambria was up in the cart, Nicholas was holding my hand and he brought his "puppy" into the store. His beloved puppy which I have had to buy 4 of so far because of how much this kid is addicted to his puppy. He sleeps with it, carries it around the house and now, puppy is taking field trips with us..to the mall, to church and now recently added! The grocery store!!! As I start around the produce section Nicholas begins to drop his puppy. I cringe as he picks it up and puts it in his mouth (Oh the feet that have been on that floor!!!! The hair!! The human skin cells!) I shiver and make a note to self: BOIL PUPPY WHEN RETURN HOME.

Then it happens. The smoke detectors start to go off. Lights start flashing from the ceiling. Alarms blaring from everywhere. I look at Nicholas and he melts to the floor and looks up to the ceiling "E-F*CK!!! E_F*CK!" His eyes are wide and his mouth is open like a little box.

"It's okay..It's alright.. You're okay..You're alright." I say through the screaming from the alarms and from Nicholas.

The alarms stop.

"E-F*CK?"

"No...Smoke alarms are all done. You're okay. All done." I say as I try to put his nerves back together..He is like a deer in the headlights. Riveted to one spot and will not move. "C'mon..It's okay....No more smoke alarms." He moves a little and lets me pick him up. Now I am pushing a cart and holding a two year old while trying to put necessities into my cart. In heels. Yeah. Maybe I should have skipped on the heels.. Nah. They are too fabulous.

I continue this for a bit..Until my arm is totally going numb and going to FALL OFF. I simply cannot hold Nicholas, referee Cambria who is taking things out of the back of the freaking cart and throwing them on the floor. And she is reaching for everything in site and practically falling OUT of the cart with her gymnast ways. I put Nicholas down in a crowded aisle. No one is moving. This is where I need the horn. HONK!!! But wait! I have a two year old! And he is walking towards an offender. "E-F*CK?" Are you even kidding me? No way. That's one way to get someone to move! The lady is staring at him mouth agape. I rush over.

"No more SMOKE ALARMS, Nicholas. There are no more SMOKE----" Then they go off again.

No lie.

Does anyone have any Ativan up in here? Because I think my two year old is going to have a panic attack.

We go through the whole shenanigans once again and I try to put the pieces back together...But it's a lost cause. And now I am noticing that at least 3 mothers have ONE child and are using the carts with the CARS! NO FAIR! Just look at me! Carrying a toddler and commandeering a baby! I should have one of those carts! Instead have a headache.

I think that we will have hot dogs for dinner...again. And you know what?? I really don't care.

To Tan or Not To Tan....

I just went through a WHOLE ordeal like an hour ago at the tanning salon. Yes, everyone. I know about skin cancer and I am choosing to be a bit risky right now. I need a little rebellion in my life. A little wild side where I stare death in the face. Well, not really. I went there to relax..You know, catch some rays so I don't look like death or shark meat..I chose to use their "best" bed. This bed is the best of the best. You can sit up in this bed, have fans on, music on and basically survive in it's capsule for about a week if you brought food and water. I paid good money for this bed because it is the best. I mean, I deserve the best, right? Dealing with diapers, dogs and rivalry all day, who wouldn't? Anyways, I get into the room, strip off my clothes and CRAP. I forgot my lotion on the counter out front. So I stick my head out the door and yell for the chopstick-sized teenager to turn off the effing vacuum, while being careful for her not to see my ever so gracefully sagging body (let's not get started on that one..ok?). So she gives me my lotion (which, again, is the best), and I get in the bed.

Nothing.

The bed does not turn on. COME ON! DARN IT!

I have to stick my head out again to the poster girl for anorexia for her to reset the bed. She does and I climb back into the fortress of the bed and feel my body begin to relax.

Nothing.

AGAIN. MY HEAD OUT THE DOOR.

She starts giving me instructions on how to open up the CIRCUIT box and reset the CIRCUITS for the bed. What am I? An electrician now? They should be paying me to tan in this bed!

Ok..Should be fixed now..Or NOT.

Now I am POSITIVE that chopstick girl got a peep show. The door just opened a little. Oh Geez. She is never going to have children. My body is a roadmap for destruction.

So the bed refuses to turn on and I have to get dressed. No tanning in my favorite bed where I can let the day's woes lie to rest and get some peace away from laundry and dirty dishes.

I come out of the room and am told I can use another bed and get credited for my favorite bed for another time. FINE. I guess I will settle. At least I can listen to my ipod for a little while.

I come out of the room in my mad rush to get to my car to race home and into the shower(however I love the experience of tanning, I HATE the feeling of "after" tanning.. puddles of sweat, slippery lotion, all together grossness). I can feel my pores clogging as I gather up my things.

"Ummmm..I knocked on your door? But you must have been tanning already? The Matrix (the "best" bed) is working? I don't know what happened? I am going to write a note? So you can use it next time?? hee hee? It's really weird?"

Are you kidding me? Is she really telling me this? And in all questions? What's up with that?

After all my nakedness and electrical expertise that bed just "decided" to work AFTER I was in another bed.

All I know is that my pores better not be clogged because of how long this freaking lotion has been on my face. And my tan better not be uneven. Or there are some tantrums to throw.

R.I.P. Maclaren

So I definitely consider myself a professional shopper. I know my style, I know what I want and I know how to get it. Back in the day, I would spend (sigh) hours at the mall, looking through all of the things that I loved and trying on everything I wanted. I would strut my stuff in the dressing rooms and teeter around in the HOTTEST stilettos EVER in the shoe department. I would think nothing of dropping money to beautify myself, whether it was shoes, clothes, shoes, skin care, shoes, accessories, or, of course, shoes. Now that I have kids, I have to be a bit less selfish (WAH!!).

I took a trip to Baby Gap in hopes of finding some decent clothes for my two year old. That's the thing with kids..You have to buy whole new wardrobes for them each and every season (oh, to be young again..) because they grow. So basically I drop money on clothes they wear a few times and then BANG my kids are running (or crawling) around in high waters and stained shirts, and I'm thinking, "Where did these rag-a-muffins come from?"

Anyways, I decided to use the single stroller to just put my youngest in instead of the double stroller for this trip because I planned to hop in, take a look at the sales, and then hop out, hopefully with some things that won't make my kids look like a throw back to Orphan Annie. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my double stroller. I call it "the cadillac" because it basically drives itself it's so smooth. But, it's also a bit on the wide side and I didn't feel like fighting ALL doorways and bruising my feet and ankles up trying to keep open both mall doors open at the same time to get the thing in. I kinda didn't want to break a toe today. And my two year old is getting good at holding onto the single stroller. He holds onto it with a death grip ever since the incident where a car beeped (wasn't at him) when he wasn't holding onto the stroller and scared him straight.

We traveled into the Gap without incident and I even hit some great sales for some cute clothes! Surprisingly, we had no crisis or devastation inside the store and left without incident. I piled the kids back into the car and backed out of the parking space. CRUNCH. Oh My God. I hit the car next to me. Chris is going to freaking KILL me. This isn't the first time I've done this...Crap. Let me move forward and then back again to assess the damage. I am shaking like a leaf now because I am thinking..insurance..my husband....the owner of this shiny silver car...Can I escape this parking lot without anyone noticing (STOP! I can't do THAT!!! I have to leave a note or something! Plus, a lady is standing there smoking watching this whole thing, what if she takes down my license plate..calls the cops, I get arrested or something...hit and run? Oh geez..It gets messy).

I pull forward to straighten out to give a little room to assess and back up again. CRUNCH. Oh My God! I did not just do it again. Wait. What is that thing moving next to my car? I swear I just saw something out of the corner of my eye. The smoking lady is wildly gesturing and yelling. Oh crap. I probably just hit a pedestrian or something. That's it. I'm done. I roll down my window, ready to cry.

"The stroller! It's the stroller!" Smoking Lady yells from the sidewalk.

I just about pee my pants with relief. I did not just hit a car. I am just an idiot who forgot to put her freaking stroller in her car! I get out of my car to find my $235 Maclaren stroller looking like this:

Dismembered Maclaren (click on pics to get a closer look at the damage)

R.I.P. Maclaren, R.I.P You've been good to me. I'm sorry things had to come to an end in this tragic way.

Hey, do you think I can get a new one?? Cause there's the cutest pink one I've had my eye on....