Where did my daughter come from? No, you don't need to answer, I have the stretch marks to prove that she and her twin sister were grown within my body. Everyone, well mainly Dave and my mom, say that I cater to Alaina and have made her the 4 year old little diva that she is, but truth be told, I do the same amount of catering to all my kids. Alaina is just Alaina. Or as we like to call her, Complaina.
4:20am. Cries of hysterics are coming from the twins room. I jump out of bed to check on whether Alaina fell out of bed and hit something hard on her way down or to see who is grabbing her out of her room and trying to steal her...because surely this is the only reason she is crying the way she is. I get to her, and she is in her bed, no strangers around...so why on earth are the tears streaming down her face? Fever? No. Vomiting? No. "Lainey, please tell me...what's the matter?" Her response, between muffled sobs, "I don't want to wear these diamond (crystal) earrings. I want the pearl ones. I told you this morning and you said after bath, but you didn't put them in...they are still the diamonds".....sob sob sob.
You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me.
What other child on God's green earth is waking up at 4am and doing an earring check? Seriously?????
I tell her to get a grip, and we'll change them when the sun wakes up. I walk back to my room, to where my husband is snoring away...completely oblivious that someone could have been stealing our child....and lay back down. I can't sleep, so I start planning out outfits for the Disney cruise we're taking in November. Ok, so maybe I now see where she might get some of these tendencies.
However, I will *never* cry about having diamonds in my ears, on my fingers, on my wrist or neck...there are apparently a lot of things this little girl still needs to learn. Just not at 4am.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
The Misfits
Wow, the last few weeks have been a whirlwind of events. I sent my son to first grade and the other 3 of my kids to their last year of pre-school, threw a baby shower for a girlfriend, had a fundraiser with my neighbor for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation, went on a whitewater rafting trip with the husband....and am now getting ready for a Tupperware party tomorrow night and then a trip up to NY for my next boutique show, and a consignment sale which I'm volunteering in a few nights later. When in the hell am I going to get to my laundry!? I might just have to buy us all some new underwear this week...
Anyway, let's talk about this Whitewater rafting trip. I got the trip for Dave two Christmas' ago. With the crazy schedules (see above and multiply that by 2 years), we finally were able to line up sitters (the in-laws) and plan the trip in August. Then came Hurricane Irene. So much for our trip that weekend. It was re-scheduled for this past Saturday....the day that fall decided to give us a little taste of what we were in for. Normally I'd be excited; making chili and sipping on hot apple cider. This day, I was freezing my ass off in 60 degree weather, putting my watershoe clad foot into what felt like an ice luge. Instead of glorious sun beating down on us through the 5 hour trip on the water, tanning our faces and bronzing our bodies as I initially envisioned it going down while purchasing this gift, I was suited up from head to toe in a wetsuit, that when put on, made me feel like the kid from "A Christmas Story", when he's in his snow suit and can't put his arms down. It was an overall-style wetsuit, topped with a wetsuit jacket, that when zipped up, looked fresh out of Janet Jacksons 80's videos with the big ass shoulder pads in them. But then out steps Dave from the changing room and it was almost worth the cold weather to see him in this getup. Let's just say we're glad we were married because this is not a look you want to sport, especially if you are a few lbs overweight and/or single.
Anyhoo...we look around at the rafting place. There is a huge firepit in the center of it all, for those waiting to go on there trip to stay warm. I grabbed a hot cocoa and went over there. Tons of guys and girls our age and a little bit younger. There were some High School guys who were shirtless and in swimsuits. This was the look I would expect for an adventure of this sort had it been 90 degrees. They were all flexing their muscles, but I have a strong feeling that it was because they were secretly FREEZING and needed to keep all body parts moving and flexing. I had body parts under mounds of wetsuit material that could cut glass....I couldn't imagine being naked. Dumb boys.
So, as we glance around, we notice an older couple in the corner. Probably 70's...how cute, but we joked that we'd probably get stuck with them and be leisurely paddling away from the rapids while we talk about how we share the same type of arthritis medications.
20 minutes later, we're all heading to the Safety Orientation, where they put us in our boat groupings. Sure enough, grandma and grandpa arthritis are paired with us, as well as a very cute couple, Juan and Dan, who are celebrating Juans 25th birthday. So, here we are...just the 6 of us. In comparison to all the other boat groupings, we are, for sure, the Misfits.
12 miles down the river was the trip. Dan and I get in the front of the boat, arthritis couple gets in the middle and Juan sits next to Dave, who is the captain of the misfit raft. We learn, from Safety Orientation, that we might see snakes (including rattlesnakes, to which Dan and I both gasp), bears, or fat, hairy spiders. Could this trip get any better?
So, off we start paddling. Grandpa is sitting behind me, and Dave is yelling commands, "Left side forward", to which grandpa is hitting me with his paddle because, OH, did I forget to tell you? He has to take out his hearing aid in the boat, so he is COMPLETELY deaf, and his *girlfriend* (who has a bad knee and is basically laying out in the boat) says we'll have to sign to him! Ooookay. A waterfall is coming up, so I turn and do the sign from the song "Itsy bitsy spider"...(the part with the "down came the rain") He seems to get it. Dave, Juan, Dan and I start paddling. The other 2 cruise along.
We are going around rocks and level 3 rapids (6 foot drops)...it was fun. Dan squealed louder than I did, most especially when he had a cricket on him (but truth be told, if it had been on me, I'd probably have jumped in the water) Grandma arthritis was not loving it and complained a lot to grandpa, who couldn't hear any of it, but the group gets along well and we commiserate at the chill factor in the air, as the sun that poked its head out in the morning, was now hiding behind the clouds, making it VERY chilly. So, I am in the front of the left side of the boat and my buddy Dan, grandma arthritis and Juan are all on the right side of the boat. Despite Daves yelling for "right side paddle", we are always turning to the right because they aren't paddling hard enough, putting me right smack dab in the face of the drop, thus the huge splash hits me square on, each and every time. I am looking like a chinchilla gone through a car wash. I don't know exactly what that might look like, but I'm thinking not good. Fast forward through the trip and when we get out at the end of hour #5, Dave unzips his wetsuit and his shirt is dry. However, this Chinchilla takes a long time to dry. Thank goodness Dave had the good idea to bring a towel for us to dry off with. If only it hadn't been in the raft and was, if possible, wetter than I was.
Luckily, we get back to the facility, I FINALLY pee after 5 hours (NO WAY was I undoing my entire wetsuit, OR chancing peeing in the facilitree's during our 15 minute lunch due to the the possibility of snake, bear, or my personal favorite hairy spider. I'd be running back towards water with my damn wetsuit at my ankles...I envisioned how it would play out and it just wasn't pretty. It was worth 5 hours of 'holding it' to avoid that situation.
But, all in all, it was a fun day. Something we would do again for sure. While I'm definitely envisioning a June timeframe, and 4 of our friends making the trip with us, Dave suggests to everyone that we come back for a reunion in a year from now. I can only hope Grandpa arthritis didn't have his hearing aid back in just yet.....
Anyway, let's talk about this Whitewater rafting trip. I got the trip for Dave two Christmas' ago. With the crazy schedules (see above and multiply that by 2 years), we finally were able to line up sitters (the in-laws) and plan the trip in August. Then came Hurricane Irene. So much for our trip that weekend. It was re-scheduled for this past Saturday....the day that fall decided to give us a little taste of what we were in for. Normally I'd be excited; making chili and sipping on hot apple cider. This day, I was freezing my ass off in 60 degree weather, putting my watershoe clad foot into what felt like an ice luge. Instead of glorious sun beating down on us through the 5 hour trip on the water, tanning our faces and bronzing our bodies as I initially envisioned it going down while purchasing this gift, I was suited up from head to toe in a wetsuit, that when put on, made me feel like the kid from "A Christmas Story", when he's in his snow suit and can't put his arms down. It was an overall-style wetsuit, topped with a wetsuit jacket, that when zipped up, looked fresh out of Janet Jacksons 80's videos with the big ass shoulder pads in them. But then out steps Dave from the changing room and it was almost worth the cold weather to see him in this getup. Let's just say we're glad we were married because this is not a look you want to sport, especially if you are a few lbs overweight and/or single.
Anyhoo...we look around at the rafting place. There is a huge firepit in the center of it all, for those waiting to go on there trip to stay warm. I grabbed a hot cocoa and went over there. Tons of guys and girls our age and a little bit younger. There were some High School guys who were shirtless and in swimsuits. This was the look I would expect for an adventure of this sort had it been 90 degrees. They were all flexing their muscles, but I have a strong feeling that it was because they were secretly FREEZING and needed to keep all body parts moving and flexing. I had body parts under mounds of wetsuit material that could cut glass....I couldn't imagine being naked. Dumb boys.
So, as we glance around, we notice an older couple in the corner. Probably 70's...how cute, but we joked that we'd probably get stuck with them and be leisurely paddling away from the rapids while we talk about how we share the same type of arthritis medications.
20 minutes later, we're all heading to the Safety Orientation, where they put us in our boat groupings. Sure enough, grandma and grandpa arthritis are paired with us, as well as a very cute couple, Juan and Dan, who are celebrating Juans 25th birthday. So, here we are...just the 6 of us. In comparison to all the other boat groupings, we are, for sure, the Misfits.
12 miles down the river was the trip. Dan and I get in the front of the boat, arthritis couple gets in the middle and Juan sits next to Dave, who is the captain of the misfit raft. We learn, from Safety Orientation, that we might see snakes (including rattlesnakes, to which Dan and I both gasp), bears, or fat, hairy spiders. Could this trip get any better?
So, off we start paddling. Grandpa is sitting behind me, and Dave is yelling commands, "Left side forward", to which grandpa is hitting me with his paddle because, OH, did I forget to tell you? He has to take out his hearing aid in the boat, so he is COMPLETELY deaf, and his *girlfriend* (who has a bad knee and is basically laying out in the boat) says we'll have to sign to him! Ooookay. A waterfall is coming up, so I turn and do the sign from the song "Itsy bitsy spider"...(the part with the "down came the rain") He seems to get it. Dave, Juan, Dan and I start paddling. The other 2 cruise along.
We are going around rocks and level 3 rapids (6 foot drops)...it was fun. Dan squealed louder than I did, most especially when he had a cricket on him (but truth be told, if it had been on me, I'd probably have jumped in the water) Grandma arthritis was not loving it and complained a lot to grandpa, who couldn't hear any of it, but the group gets along well and we commiserate at the chill factor in the air, as the sun that poked its head out in the morning, was now hiding behind the clouds, making it VERY chilly. So, I am in the front of the left side of the boat and my buddy Dan, grandma arthritis and Juan are all on the right side of the boat. Despite Daves yelling for "right side paddle", we are always turning to the right because they aren't paddling hard enough, putting me right smack dab in the face of the drop, thus the huge splash hits me square on, each and every time. I am looking like a chinchilla gone through a car wash. I don't know exactly what that might look like, but I'm thinking not good. Fast forward through the trip and when we get out at the end of hour #5, Dave unzips his wetsuit and his shirt is dry. However, this Chinchilla takes a long time to dry. Thank goodness Dave had the good idea to bring a towel for us to dry off with. If only it hadn't been in the raft and was, if possible, wetter than I was.
Luckily, we get back to the facility, I FINALLY pee after 5 hours (NO WAY was I undoing my entire wetsuit, OR chancing peeing in the facilitree's during our 15 minute lunch due to the the possibility of snake, bear, or my personal favorite hairy spider. I'd be running back towards water with my damn wetsuit at my ankles...I envisioned how it would play out and it just wasn't pretty. It was worth 5 hours of 'holding it' to avoid that situation.
But, all in all, it was a fun day. Something we would do again for sure. While I'm definitely envisioning a June timeframe, and 4 of our friends making the trip with us, Dave suggests to everyone that we come back for a reunion in a year from now. I can only hope Grandpa arthritis didn't have his hearing aid back in just yet.....
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Where were you the day the world stopped turning?
Even though I am super excited to have my three little ones head off to pre-school today for another year of fun and learning, I'm feeling sluggish and my heart is heavy.
Could it be the tons of crap I ate all weekend long? Sure. But, what's lingering more in my mind is the upcoming 10 year anniversary of 9-11. While I'm unpacking from the weekend of fun in the beach, I'm going to start re-packing the family to head up to NY for the memorial.
My kids have been starting to pick up on the fact that something really bad happened 10 years ago. They have questions...it's the first time I've thankfully had to tell them about people dying, people being killed, bad people and planes. It's been hard. What to censor, how to explain it just right.
I've been watching the news, and reading the stories of first responders and families of those lost. My husband and I have both had the tears trickling down our cheeks. It's hard. Dave was in NYC, watching the terror and the towers fall. I, on the other hand, had just moved down to Arlington, VA and saw the plane hit the Pentagon. It was a day that changed America. It's a day that is still just as raw as it was 10 years ago.
As a parent, I can't imagine having my child feel this type of pain, this type of horror. I think about how my dad must have felt all the time. See, like I said, I had just moved down to my friends place and was staying there until we found an apartment to share. She, a born and raised NYer as well, was at work already and called me after the plane hit the first tower. I had just called my dad to see if he had been watching the news (he had)when the second plane hit. What the hell was going on!?
I was still on the phone with him, both of us watching the news, not really talking to each other, but still not wanting to hang up, when the building I was in started to shake. I remember saying to my dad, "Geez...I know we're close to Regan National Airport, but this is crazy", as I walked out to the balcony. The next thing I know the huge tail of a plane is in front of me, but I didn't know it was a plane at that minute, because it was so fast, so quick and then a HUGE fireball and explosion. I screamed, "We're getting bombed". The phone went dead. I started screaming. People in the streets were screaming and cars were stopping in the street. I'm trying to get my dad back on the phone (I shudder now thinking about how he felt not knowing what was going on, like so many other people that day, but hearing we're getting bombed from your child and then nothing....). Between NY and VA, the cell lines were all blocked up, but I do manage to get him one more time. He said, "Get out of there. Go to a school." Where the heck is a school?! I just moved there. I call my girlfriend back...she is leaving work, she heard about the Pentagon, and guides me to meet her there. On my way out the building, fire alarm lights are flashing in the hallways...I get my car and am stopped outside of the apartment building because there are Army tanks coming out onto the streets. Is this real? At this point, I hear, while I'm in the car, one of the Towers fell. Holy crap. This is just plain craziness. I finally get to meet my friend, and we head to her boyfriends where we watch, for hours upon hours, the horrific site in NYC and the Pentagon. It was awful and scary for me and I was really not ever in harms way. I can't imagine what others who were in danger were feeling. I try to imagine but I just can't. But I do know that everyone remembers what they were doing and where they were on Sept. 11th. It is encased in our minds and hearts.
9-11 turned me into a grown up as I then realized that bad guys weren't just in the movies, and terrorists really existed. We are not impermeable.
So, this September 11th, I will attend a memorial and say another prayer for the people whose lives were so tragically lost, and for the families left behind still dealing with the horror on such a personal level.
But going forward, I'm going to make September 11th a day that we take time out as a family and just enjoy each other. It's easy to get caught up with day to day life and all the activities that come along with school, kids, work...but this day, the day that the world stopped turning, will be a day of love and rememberance that any day can be our last. It will always be a day that I make certain to hug my kids a bit more, kiss my husband a little more, and try to spend time with my parents and loved ones. I'm especially thankful this year that my brother is flying in from California to be with us.
And although I will never forget, the terrorists will not win. I will not think about them on this day anymore. For me, from now on, September 11th is going to be about love, family and life.
Could it be the tons of crap I ate all weekend long? Sure. But, what's lingering more in my mind is the upcoming 10 year anniversary of 9-11. While I'm unpacking from the weekend of fun in the beach, I'm going to start re-packing the family to head up to NY for the memorial.
My kids have been starting to pick up on the fact that something really bad happened 10 years ago. They have questions...it's the first time I've thankfully had to tell them about people dying, people being killed, bad people and planes. It's been hard. What to censor, how to explain it just right.
I've been watching the news, and reading the stories of first responders and families of those lost. My husband and I have both had the tears trickling down our cheeks. It's hard. Dave was in NYC, watching the terror and the towers fall. I, on the other hand, had just moved down to Arlington, VA and saw the plane hit the Pentagon. It was a day that changed America. It's a day that is still just as raw as it was 10 years ago.
As a parent, I can't imagine having my child feel this type of pain, this type of horror. I think about how my dad must have felt all the time. See, like I said, I had just moved down to my friends place and was staying there until we found an apartment to share. She, a born and raised NYer as well, was at work already and called me after the plane hit the first tower. I had just called my dad to see if he had been watching the news (he had)when the second plane hit. What the hell was going on!?
I was still on the phone with him, both of us watching the news, not really talking to each other, but still not wanting to hang up, when the building I was in started to shake. I remember saying to my dad, "Geez...I know we're close to Regan National Airport, but this is crazy", as I walked out to the balcony. The next thing I know the huge tail of a plane is in front of me, but I didn't know it was a plane at that minute, because it was so fast, so quick and then a HUGE fireball and explosion. I screamed, "We're getting bombed". The phone went dead. I started screaming. People in the streets were screaming and cars were stopping in the street. I'm trying to get my dad back on the phone (I shudder now thinking about how he felt not knowing what was going on, like so many other people that day, but hearing we're getting bombed from your child and then nothing....). Between NY and VA, the cell lines were all blocked up, but I do manage to get him one more time. He said, "Get out of there. Go to a school." Where the heck is a school?! I just moved there. I call my girlfriend back...she is leaving work, she heard about the Pentagon, and guides me to meet her there. On my way out the building, fire alarm lights are flashing in the hallways...I get my car and am stopped outside of the apartment building because there are Army tanks coming out onto the streets. Is this real? At this point, I hear, while I'm in the car, one of the Towers fell. Holy crap. This is just plain craziness. I finally get to meet my friend, and we head to her boyfriends where we watch, for hours upon hours, the horrific site in NYC and the Pentagon. It was awful and scary for me and I was really not ever in harms way. I can't imagine what others who were in danger were feeling. I try to imagine but I just can't. But I do know that everyone remembers what they were doing and where they were on Sept. 11th. It is encased in our minds and hearts.
9-11 turned me into a grown up as I then realized that bad guys weren't just in the movies, and terrorists really existed. We are not impermeable.
So, this September 11th, I will attend a memorial and say another prayer for the people whose lives were so tragically lost, and for the families left behind still dealing with the horror on such a personal level.
But going forward, I'm going to make September 11th a day that we take time out as a family and just enjoy each other. It's easy to get caught up with day to day life and all the activities that come along with school, kids, work...but this day, the day that the world stopped turning, will be a day of love and rememberance that any day can be our last. It will always be a day that I make certain to hug my kids a bit more, kiss my husband a little more, and try to spend time with my parents and loved ones. I'm especially thankful this year that my brother is flying in from California to be with us.
And although I will never forget, the terrorists will not win. I will not think about them on this day anymore. For me, from now on, September 11th is going to be about love, family and life.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Mumu's and Margaritas.
Happy Labor Day weekend, everyone!
I haven't written in a few days because we were getting ready to head down to Fenwick Island with the family. When I write "we", I mean, "I" was getting ready for the 6 of us to go. Shopping, Packing, Baking, Cooking, Loading the car...all me. My husband just has to show up in the car. My next life, I hope to come back as a man.
Anyway, we're down here with some of our best friends, and their kids. 4 adults and 8 kids. Well, should I say 10 kids, and Carla and myself. The point of this particular post is not about who did what, and who does not do much...this blog is about how we are 4 adults with a fridge full of food, and have been eating as though we are 4 anorexic sumo wrestlers trying to make weight. It's a bit ridonculous actually. Especially when I *know* I'm going to be donning a swimsuit. Luckily, I prepared myself and brought my post pregnancy mumu-esque bathing suit.
The beginning of summer I showed off my bikini body. Not my pre-pregnancy bikini body, but none-the-less, there were more tragic women wearing MUCH worse than I was. However, it's now Labor Day weekend, and in standard, end of summer bloat/weight gain, I'm bringing mumus back.
For today, we will drink the super fat, iced Margaritas at the pool, followed by rotelle and velveeta with chips, some guacamole, tacos and fajitas...and that's just the mid day appetizer. There will be dinner followed by an evening at the boardwalk where we'll get more cotton candy and ice cream, and maybe some fudge from the Candy Kitchen...then come home for more Margaritas and some Peanut Butter pie. Sounds like we'd never eat it all, especially since Margaritas and Peanut Butter don't sound like they go well together, but we do eat it and it actually doesn't mix too badly together.
So, we just finished breakfast (choc. chip pancakes, bacon and fruit....covered in Nutella, mind you) and our friend Pete walks in with 12 doughnuts from Krispy Kreme. Kids can't have that much sugar in the morning, so as dutiful parents would, we consumed it...all in the name of saving the children from obesity.
Now to get myself dressed in my mumu and head off for the day. Hmmm..that reminds me...I should put the bag of salt and vinegar chips in the beach bag....
So, off to the pool where this momma is gonna rock the mumu and Margaritas.
Have a festive, fattening day, and remember...the diet starts Tuesday!
I haven't written in a few days because we were getting ready to head down to Fenwick Island with the family. When I write "we", I mean, "I" was getting ready for the 6 of us to go. Shopping, Packing, Baking, Cooking, Loading the car...all me. My husband just has to show up in the car. My next life, I hope to come back as a man.
Anyway, we're down here with some of our best friends, and their kids. 4 adults and 8 kids. Well, should I say 10 kids, and Carla and myself. The point of this particular post is not about who did what, and who does not do much...this blog is about how we are 4 adults with a fridge full of food, and have been eating as though we are 4 anorexic sumo wrestlers trying to make weight. It's a bit ridonculous actually. Especially when I *know* I'm going to be donning a swimsuit. Luckily, I prepared myself and brought my post pregnancy mumu-esque bathing suit.
The beginning of summer I showed off my bikini body. Not my pre-pregnancy bikini body, but none-the-less, there were more tragic women wearing MUCH worse than I was. However, it's now Labor Day weekend, and in standard, end of summer bloat/weight gain, I'm bringing mumus back.
For today, we will drink the super fat, iced Margaritas at the pool, followed by rotelle and velveeta with chips, some guacamole, tacos and fajitas...and that's just the mid day appetizer. There will be dinner followed by an evening at the boardwalk where we'll get more cotton candy and ice cream, and maybe some fudge from the Candy Kitchen...then come home for more Margaritas and some Peanut Butter pie. Sounds like we'd never eat it all, especially since Margaritas and Peanut Butter don't sound like they go well together, but we do eat it and it actually doesn't mix too badly together.
So, we just finished breakfast (choc. chip pancakes, bacon and fruit....covered in Nutella, mind you) and our friend Pete walks in with 12 doughnuts from Krispy Kreme. Kids can't have that much sugar in the morning, so as dutiful parents would, we consumed it...all in the name of saving the children from obesity.
Now to get myself dressed in my mumu and head off for the day. Hmmm..that reminds me...I should put the bag of salt and vinegar chips in the beach bag....
So, off to the pool where this momma is gonna rock the mumu and Margaritas.
Have a festive, fattening day, and remember...the diet starts Tuesday!
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