20 Years and Counting

This weekend marks 20 years from when I met Steve. Yup, TWENTY YEARS! Man that's a long time.

I can still remember the night I decided he was the one for me. Not quite a Cinderella story but, in my book, as close as it gets. I met Steve my freshman year of high school. We all hung around the same circle of friends but he stuck out like a sore thumb. He was so funny, always happy, always making me laugh. I was hoping he would ask me to homecoming dance but the loser waited too long and instead his good friend Kevin Gallagher beat him to the punch. I couldn't say no, I knew poor Kevin had worked up every last bit of courage to ask me by the deep red color on his face. Besides, he was a really sweet guy (not my cup of tea at all).

Finally, homecoming dance came and I couldn't lead Kevin on anymore. He gave me his blessing to talk to Steve after I confessed that I had huge crush on him (I thought honesty was the best policy). So I worked up the courage, with the help of Kevin (I told you he was a nice guy), to talk to Steve. Luck was on my side, he had gone stag (the cocky bastard). And that was it. We talked, and laughed all night long.

His smile got me. This is the one. I knew then, twenty years ago on the bleachers in the St. Monica High School Gym, that this was the guy for me. It was such an instant connection that it's hard to explain. I just knew that from that moment on we would become best friends and it's been that way ever since.

He became my best friend and I became his. We exchanged hundreds of notes. Talk for endless hours on the phone. This is my one (and only) apology to my sisters, because of me they never got to use the phone this was p.c.w. (pre-call-waiting).

Looking back on these last twenty years it's so comforting to know that he's still my best friend the one I can (and do) tell everything. I know I won't be judged. He's my security blanket.
If there's an earthquake or thunder he instantly holds me because he knows I'm too scared to move. He takes ice cubes out of my drinks because he knows I like my water room temperature. He's my scuba buddy because hundreds of feet under water I trust no one else. He's my running partner because he keeps me motivated and stays with me (even if it means going slower) so that we can cross the finish line together.

The best way to describe how he makes me feel is safe. It's like if I close my eyes and just let myself fall backwards he would always be there to catch me.

I can't believe it's been twenty years, I can't wait to see what the next twenty will bring (other than wrinkles).

Steve: I look forward to coming across more finish lines with you. I can't imagine my life without you.

Trick or Treat

Once again my sweet daughter Emma has found a way to humble me. While discussing what we should be for Halloween, I found out what she really thinks of me. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "So, what do you think you want to be for Halloween this year?"

Emma: "Oh, I don't know maybe some chopsticks and Rita (my niece) can be soy sauce, since she loves it so much. Or maybe I can be spaghetti and Sean (her little brother) can be a meatball. OH, I KNOW! I CAN BE A TRASH CAN AND YOU (her very own mother) CAN BE THE TRASH!!!"

Needless to say Steve thought this was hilarious.

But don't worry, I got the last laugh.

When we asked Sean what he wanted to be he answered "I wanna be a puty pincess (pretty princess)".

My First Love

Emma was quietly (very rare) entertaining herself with a puzzle of the world (won't put the damn thing down). She suddenly jumped up and said:

(All in one breathe) "Hey mom, look WALRUSES! They live in Greenland right next to the puffins. I JUST LOVE WALRUSES. I have since I was little. What was my first word? IT WAS WALRUS. Wasn't it? "

Another Ego Boost

Submitted by Mom Bertie Molinaro.

After getting dressed in my brand new orange outfit, I strolled down the runway (our hallway). An exclusive fashion show for my daughter Sammi. She waisted no time in saying: "OH, MOMMY YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL!!! JUST LIKE A CLOWN".

Thanks to Bertie for sharing and thanks to Sammi for not letting her mom get a big head.

The Drop Off

Emma has started preschool this week and as every mother out there I felt my heart get a little squished when she kissed me goodbye and ran off to play with her friends. You know the feeling that someone is standing on your heart. My baby is growing up so fast. She'll spend all day without me (and me without her). What a weird feeling, so empty.

I totally felt like Marlin (Nemo's dad from Finding Nemo) when Nemo went to the drop off on his first day of school. I'm so THAT mom. Constantly worried that something bad is going to happen to my kids. I worry that the other kids will make fun of whatever weird outfit she picked to wear. Or that Emma will start to talk about her imaginary friend Inkano. Emma's so different (actually weird), and kids can be so mean. I hate the thought of somebody crushing her spirit.

Worse than that, I hate the fact that I can't be around to protect her. I'm leaving my little Nemo alone and as far as I'm concerned she swimming with a bunch of bull sharks. Fine, they're really just a bunch of 3, 4 and 5-year-olds. But those kids can create so much peer pressure. You know they'll triple dog dare her to "touch the butt". And she is so the kind to touch it.

Last April, for example, her first day of school happened to fall on Picture Day. Great, she'll have her first class picture I thought. To my surprise (and everyone else's), when the class picture arrived there was no Emma!!! What happened? NO ONE KNOWS! Her teachers swear she was taken outside with the rest of the class, and yet she's not in the photo. Leave it to Emma to be the first child to "disappear" during her teachers 18 years of experience. Did I mention it was her FIRST day. God knows what she'll do now that she's really comfortable.
I guess that I should look at it as if the glass is half full. At least she loves going to school and is not sad without me.

I had prepared myself for a crying, clinging child but on that first day of school it wasn't my child crying. It was a little boy in a red hat. It wasn't my kid in tears but my heart was still breaking. I looked up at his mom as the teachers pulled him away and the poor woman was standing there crying just as hard. She did what every "good" parent is supposed to do, turn around and walk away.

Meanwhile, everybody was trying to console the kid and all I could think about was that poor mom. Who cared about consoling her? I couldn't help but want to do something, anything. So I went over to give her a little pat of encouragement. I don't know how it happened but before I knew it she was totally hugging me and sobbing on my shoulder. It didn't matter that I was a complete stranger.

It was so weird and so cool at the same time. Like we talked in code. Mom code. She knew I was a mom and I understood she had just dropped off her little Nemo. A hug was all she needed. I bet every mom out there knows exactly what I'm talking about. I'm sure there's been the day you've either given a hug or gotten one at just the right moment.

Later that day I made sure to check on Tyler, the little guy in the red hat. He was laughing and playing on the playground with all the other kids. Then he did something just as unexpected as his mom had done that morning. He ran up to me, put his arms around my neck and said "I miss my mommy". Ouch! Just when I was beginning to feel happy for him.

I consoled myself by thinking it's just a phase and before you know it Tyler will be running off, dry eyed with his friends just like Emma.

But I must admit, it was nice to know that moms have the power to comfort (even when it's not our own little Nemo's).

Problem: Playdates

Now that Emma is going back to preschool, I thought I'd make things easier on all of us (mainly me) by inviting some of her friends out for play dates. In the hopes that when she goes back next week she'll at least be comfortable around a few kids.

Well my friends, this play date stuff sucks! There's just no other way of describing it. It's just like dating all over again!

Step One-The Call: You leave the same super long message on a machine hoping for a quick call back. The hours pass, and no call. You silently begin to feal rejection. Maybe I came on too strong. You start to doubt yourself, are other moms out there cooler? Maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Finally (it's really the next day, but it felt like forever), a call back.

Step Two-The Meeting: You discuss all the possibilities. My place or yours? We decide on neutral territory, a local park. The big day arrives. You pack snacks for all (want to be generous), fix everyones hair (want to look presentable), and wipe everyones snots (one last look in the rear view for any bats in the cave). You have your husband promise to call exactly 30 minutes into the date so that if things aren't going well you can fake an emergency and leave. He never calls, your stuck there for the rest of the eve.

Step Three-Get Acquainted: Next thing you know, the kids all run off to climb the jungle gym leaving you and this "new" mom no choice but to talk. This is no small task, especially if you land one from another planet. You have nothing in common. The awkward silence is broken when she asks if you like your current cleaning lady. How the hell am I supposed to answer that? I AM THE CLEANING LADY!

Step Four-The Big Decision: The date is over. Do you take it to the next level? Invite them over or just call it quits and search for someone else?

There's got to be an easier way.

Top Reasons We Love/Hate When Dad Takes the Kids Out

Love:

Bonding: It only takes a few minutes of alone time with Dad to make your kids realize how cool he is. Mom would never let them do half the stuff dad let's them do. "Sure, you can eat sand, it will put hair on your chest".

Alone Time For Mom: Finally, some much needed alone time for you to curl up with a nice book or soak in a warm bath. Yeah, right, you wish, it's really time for you to scrub the toilets without having to worry that one of your rugrats will try to "help" you by sprinkling Ajax throughout the house.

The House Stays Clean: You can clean up the Leggo's in the living room and they will stay clean. At least until they walk back in the door.

Hate:

Sugar Rush: Dad will spend the entire time pumping sugar into their little systems to keep them high as kites while they're with him. And gracefully hand them over to you when they're ready to crash.

Mother Theresa Syndrome: Dad will spend the rest of the day feeling like Mother Theresa because he had to deal with them for an entire hour. He'll insist that he's not wired for kids (like we are).

Whining: You will hear nonstop whining the entire evening about how daddy caused frost bite (no sweaters), dehydration (no water), and a bladder infection (no potty stops/diapers packed).