Marathon-Mom-Me

2006-10-14T20:03:00.000-07:00

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.

2006-09-29T20:13:00.000-07:00

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)".

2006-09-14T20:20:00.000-07:00

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? "

2006-09-10T20:26:00.000-07:00

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.

2006-09-08T20:31:00.000-07:00

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).

2006-08-24T20:37:00.000-07:00

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.

2006-08-22T20:43:00.000-07:00

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).

2006-08-18T20:47:00.000-07:00

I Meant To Do That

So, is it just me or is every child out there a smart ass? (Maybe it's just mine).

Today, a usually hectic morning was complicated with a doctors visit for myself. This meant getting everyone dressed and to my parents house by 9:30 a.m. While shoveling a few spoonfuls of leftover spaghetti (it's not just for dinner anymore) into Sean's mouth I pleaded with Emma to please get herself dressed.

Now keep in mind that the child has mastered the ability to dress herself for at least a year, minus the occasional help needed to put on her rainbow stockings. The same stockings she insists on wearing even when temperatures reach three digits.

Every morning I wake up optimistic that today I won't have to repeat myself a million times. "Emma, please get dressed." Her only response will be "O.K. Mom" She'll reappear in three minutes "I'm done. Oh, and by the way, I made my bed too."

But today is not that day. While I'm prepping diapers and wipes she's way off in la la land. I need to get out the door. I get frustrated. I lose my patience. I wind up dressing her. It feels like I'll be doing this even when she's in college. It's not that she doesn't try, but with Emma everything is SO COMPLICATED!

"Just put these on" I toss a pair of underwear, while changing Sean's diaper. "Mom, it's Friday, I can't wear Spongebob underwear. Those are for special occasions. Or is it someone's Birthday? In that case it would be o.k. Actually, I prefer to wear my Fruit of the Loom's but only if the one's with flowers are available, otherwise my Tinker Bell's will be fine."

For goodness sakes child! It's only underwear! I take a deep breathe and tell myself that for Emma, choosing the appropriate underwear is a sensitive matter. After all, the wrong pair could make or break her entire day. I remind myself that she would spend her entire life walking around in her underwear if society didn't frown upon it (actually, underwear is a compromise, she would rather go stark naked).

Finally, we agree on the blessed Fruit of The Looms (with flowers) and throw some pants on. "That's it, Emma. You need to put your shirt on by yourself and be at the door in one minute or I'm leaving without you (I just might one of these days)".

She did it. Yeah! A small victory for moms across the globe.

It was a bright orange shirt with three huge black bats on it and she was wearing it backwards. I mustered up a rushed "Good job, Emma but your shirt is on backwards". As I walked toward the child that can never be wrong, she answered: "Oh, yeah, I meant to do that mom. That way when I walk away from you it will look like the bats are flying away." How do you argue with that?

2006-08-10T20:52:00.000-07:00

Ballet and Humble Pie

After a lot of primping for a night out I was finally ready. Not bad for a 34-year-old mother of two I told myself. Finally, a good hair day and even my wrinkles are being kind. Looking for a little ego boost, I proceeded to ask one of my biggest fans what she thought of the end product. "Emma", I asked, "how does mommy look for the ballet tonight"? Her reply: "Wow mom cool, but where's your tutu"?

Not exactly what I was expecting. Nothing like a kid to keep you humble.

2006-08-03T20:53:00.000-07:00

Run Like a Mother

I never thought I would ever enjoy any kind of exercise, much less running. But after a brutally long day (actually summer) I find that there's nothing like a nice long run.

I started running thanks to Steve who signed me up for a half marathon (13.1 miles) as a Christmas present. What ever happened to giving someone underwear? Needless to say, I wasn't too thrilled.

I tried running pre-kids and hated it. My knees hurt, the treadmill made me feel like a hamster going nowhere, and the shows on the T.V. at the gym were snoring boring. Nothing to love at all.

Now, post-kids, I can honestly say I LOVE RUNNING! No, there's no magical hormone released during pregnancy that will make you enjoy exercise. And yes, my knees still hurt. Oh and, thanks to the extra baby weight, my thighs rub together so much you could light a fire between them. But it's a good pain. Really.

Maybe running is awesome because it is my chance to get away and listen to my iPod without interruption. The treadmill is now my friend. I enjoy the fact that it stays still (not like my two-year old). The repetitive movement is now like a soothing lullaby singing step, step, step.
I can zone out the world and catch up at the same time. To catch up I just look up at CNN on the T.V.. Too heavy. I zone out. Just look at the the fat girl running on the treadmill in front of me. Oh wait. That's me in the mirror. Damn, I wore the wrong sports bra and the air is on really cold in here (no wonder I kept getting all those second takes). Who cares, I'm alone (at least in my head).

This past February, I completed my first half marathon. YES, ME 13.1 MILES. Me, the same person that will drive in circles looking for the parking space closest to the door. Me the person who never walked 13.1 miles much less ran them. And I did it all by my little self. It was such a cool sense of accomplishment.

I think there is something to be said about doing things for yourself. As parents I'm sure that a lot (if not all) of us tend to put our children first. And, to a degree, it's not necessarily a bad thing. But if you can find one thing to do for yourself; do it. Go ahead, do it and don't you dare feel guilty.

Remember, that as parents we constanly cheer our children on. "Yeah, you peed in the potty". "Yeah, you blew your own nose". "Yeah, you put your shoes on by yourself". Let's not forget to cheer for ourselves. I know that for a long time I did.

I'll never be able to explain how cool it was to hear Emma brag about how "her mom runs marathons". In her eyes I broke a new world record (I finished at the end of my age group). And when she was holding the medal I got (everyone got) you'd swear she was holding an Olympic Gold. I know that in her little world she's proud of me too. You just can't beat that.

2006-07-07T20:56:00.000-07:00

The Joys of Summer

Where do I begin? Dodger games, Legoland, Museums, Tide Pools, Swimming Pools and it's not over yet. For the past month my cousins Andy, Liz and Paola (ages 7, 10, and 15) have been visiting from North Carolina. Add to that my own kids Emma and Sean (3 and almost 2). Topped with my niece and practically other child Rita (age 9). So, on any given day, for the last month, I have had an average of 6 kids under my care.

Today for the first time I realized that I am really tired.

I say for the first time because I have not had a minute to myself until now. What's sadder is that even as I write this I'm listening to Ed, Edd and Eddy on Cartoon Network. I have two other kids (my sister's Sam, 8 and Joe, 7) awake in my living room. They can't sleep. It's their first sleepover at my place. Steve unfortunately is working late so I'm manning this ship alone. I swear, I've been ready to send up the S.O.S. flares many a times tonight.

Oh, did I mention that most (if not all by now) are sick. Yup, they all have the nasty green snots mixed with that lovely barking cough that seems to never go away. Music to my ears. So to top off getting them fed, dressed, bathed and entertained I have also been getting them drugged. With so many antibiotics and cough suppressants floating around the house I feel like I live in SavOns.

So, why do it? Because growing up I have nothing but the best memories of spending every summer with my aunts (they were my almost my same age, we have a very crooked family tree). Now, I guess it's my turn to let Emma and Sean enjoy their cousins. And the bottom line is that they are enjoying them more than words can say. Every morning they wake up looking for them. And every night they beg to have them sleep over. Hence, Sam and Joe in my living room. It's so cute to hear little Sean calling them on the phone if they should happen to spend a couple of hours away at my mom's house.

Speaking of moms, I have a whole new respect for the woman. I can't believe she had 5 kids. Insane. I at least have a light at the end of my tunnel (they'll all go back to North Carolina or school).

I'm trying to enjoy these days because I know that they'll soon end. Before you know it Emma will be sending her kids to visit Sam's or Rita's kids.

Weird. At the same time I'm really looking forward to the days when there is nothing planned but a walk around the block followed by a little backyard time.

I've been separated from Sarah and the boys for too long now. Quarantine. The last thing she needs is a newborn and the virus that we all have. Honestly, I'm getting to the point where I'd be willing to wear a surgical mask or put the kids in a bubble just so we can see them. I need my good ol' Slurpee Fridays (I probably would have spiked mine today).

2006-06-23T21:00:00.000-07:00

Watch What You Say

Learn from my mistake, kids are always listening, especially when you think they are not.

Recently, Steve and I were in the kitchen discussing things we needed to pick up from the grocery store while Emma and Sean were busy playing in the living room. A few minutes later Steve heads out the door with his usual "bye guys, I'll see you soon." As he's going down the stairs Emma runs to the door and yells "DAD! DON'T FORGET THE CONDOMS AND THE ORANGE JUICE!"

2006-06-14T21:01:00.000-07:00

Problem: Death

Every week Sarah and I talk about what ideas we'd like to share for the day, like what kind of products to review, or what upcoming events sound cool, etc. Sometimes, we run short on those kinds of things. But I swear, the problem of the week just keeps coming (a little too easily for my nerves).

My daughter Emma, 3 years old, has always been great at taking in new ideas, absorbing concepts I think are way beyond the comprehension of a child her age (I know every parent thinks their child is a the most amazing thing on earth). While not the next Einstein, this child is a little different or very weird (depending on how you look at it). So I feel really pressured to keep her challenged and stimulated by telling her as much as she wants to know and in as much detail as she requests.

Thanks to her, I'm learning that answering tough questions is part of the parental territory. From the moment the ultrasound tech said "it's a girl" I started planning the answer to questions like: "when can I wear makeup, shave my legs, date, or have sex?" I rehearsed the answers in my head so when the moment came I would be ready. Besides, I figured I had at least 10 years before any real questions started coming.

I guess that's why I was left speechless when Emma sat on my lap, gently grabbed my chin, looked me in the eyes and asked "Mommy, are you going to die?" I hadn't planned for this one at all, much less at this point in the game. WHAT THE HELL DO I ANSWER? At that point I would have given anything to pause the moment and think of the right answer. Wait, is there a right answer? The only thing I could think of was answer honestly. "Yes, Emma, we all die someday."

The color left her face. "Daddy too?" OH, CRAP! Wrong answer. Too late now. Keep on going, I told myself. "Yes sweetie, but not for a very long time." Her eyes started to well up. "What about me?" HOLY S)&$@!!!! DOES THIS CHILD NOT KNOW WHEN TO STOP? I could barely utter "uh huh." That was it! She could handle the idea of mommy and daddy leaving this earth but her too, that was too much. She just picked up her jaw from the floor and went to her room.

Clearly this disturbed her because later that day she asked Steve the same question. And to her disappointment, got the same answer. Later Steve asks me "what the hell happened, did anyone die?" Luckily we hadn't had anyone or anything (ladybug, mantis or other bug friend) die recently. We asked her teacher at preschool if there was a new lesson on death. Nope.

Emma understood the concept death since about the age of two. She clearly pointed out that the shriveled up earthworm on the sidewalk was "dead" not "sleeping" or "broken."

The only thing I could think of was last November when her great grandmother passed away. We told her that grandma's body was very sick so she died and her spirit went to the stars where she would always feel better. She was happy with this answer and often pointed out a star saying it was grandma shining on us. She specifically asked where the body itself went. "We bury it in a special place called a cemetery and after time the body just turns to dust." Her answer was "O.K., like the compost."

Since November, other friends have died. Shelly, our mourning dove and Wendell Picture, our praying mantis. Both were very sad occasions for Emma, but she would cheer herself up by pointing out new stars in the sky.

I really don't know were to go from here because she hasn't been able to stop talking about death for the last few days. Everything seems to go back to death. "Oh look at this butterfly" has been changed to "How long do butterflies live?"

I feel proud that she is so smart but at the same time I feel sad that this little kid should worry about such a heavy topic. I'm sure I'm not the first to go through this and I won't be the last. I just pray that some new idea will take over her little head because this one is really draining (on both of us).

2006-06-05T21:04:00.000-07:00

Top Ten Annoying Things Dads Can Do

WARNING: Some Fathers might take offense. Please be assured that next week you will be redeemed with the Top Ten Great Things Fathers Can Do. For now, sit back and try not to forget your sense of humor.

1. Dads can go deaf when a child is crying over the monitor at 3 a.m.

2. They can go deaf when a child is whining at 3 p.m.

3. "Forgets" that you have changed million diapers when he hands over a loaded child and says it's your turn.

4. Insist that the kids don't need a sweater when the temperature is 55 degrees because "it will toughen them up".

5. Insist that you are "too easy on the kids." Even though he never actually puts them in time out.

6. He thinks that a handful of pretzel sticks make a perfectly healthy breakfast.

7. Can never do anything other than watch the kids when he's on duty. Your place WILL look like a tornado hit anytime he's with the kids. Will always say that he was too busy watching the kids to do any cleaning.

8. Argues that there is no such thing as watching "too much TV." Which is what your kids will do while dad is "watching them." Not to mention WHAT they are watching (in my house it's Smallville).

9. Never fails to point out a new scratch on the kids that happened during "your watch."

10. He can take 45 minutes getting himself ready before an outing and still manage to forget to pack a diaper and wipes.

2006-05-30T21:09:00.000-07:00

Top Ten Reasons Moms Must Have a Girlfriend (who is a mom)

1. If her kids are older, you have someone who's been there, done that. If they're younger-she's going there.

2. She makes you feel better when you tell how your kid embarrassed you in front of your one single friend by telling you how her kid embarrassed her in front of a million strangers.

3. Reminds you that your kid's most annoying habit is "just a phase". Reminds you that your husband's most annoying habit is "just a phase."

4. Do you really need a reason.

5. She's always willing to hear you vent. Best of all, she actually understands what you are talking about.

6. She will listen to you tell the same story about your kid a million times (and laugh like it was the first time). She will even start telling it to other people.

7. She always knows when you need a drink (has a cold Diet Coke in her fridge just for you).

8. She understands how important it is to have adult interaction. Even though she encourages you to act like a child.

9. She always tells you you look thin. Even when you have "muffin top" (the loose belly that gets squished up to your waist and hangs over your pants).

10. She is always willing to put up with your kids whining and tantrums (long after your single friends are gone). And at the end of the day, loves your kids as much as her own.

P.S. Thanks to all of you...for making this mommy thing bearable and so much fun.

2006-05-24T21:15:00.000-07:00

Product Review: Family Vacation

My story of our first ever, real, "family vacation" actually began weeks before we boarded any plane. The first step was to convince Steve that we should spend all of our tax return money on a trip instead of replacing our older than dirt sofas. Step one, done. After two weeks of calling travel agents and surfing the web for the best deals we decided that Cancun, Mexico would be the best choice. Thank God we got the all-inclusive package because that meant the alcohol was included. It was time for a drink (and I'm not talking about Sean's milk). By the way, all-inclusive is the only way to go when traveling with small kids because they will eat about one handful of Cheerios at every meal so that they can spend more time in the pool. Also, all-inclusive places always have buffets which means you don't have to waste time waiting for food to be prepared. Did I mention that the alcohol was also included?

Why Cancun? Easy. We'd been there before and knew exactly what it was like (this was no time to try anything new).

What was it like 6 years ago? Well, I remember the beautiful, white sandy beaches (great for snorkeling), glorious hotels (perfect for hours of lounging by the pool), and great night clubs (ideal for a few drinks and lots of dancing).

While making our reservations, I realized there would be no great snorkeling, no minutes of lounging (anywhere), and the only drink I had to be concerned with was Sean's milk.

We were finally on our way, after spending many sleepless nights worrying about taking two toddlers on 5 hour flight, we landed without a hitch. The kids slept for most of the flight, I got to watch a movie and had a meal to myself. By the way, the food on Alaska Airlines was awful (but I still ate). All those sleepless nights were in vain. Traveling with kids was a piece of cake.

And then...we got to our hotel at 7:00 p.m. By this point we had all been up and moving for 12 hours and were more than ready to let the fun begin. Wrong! Our great, 5 star hotel (so much for 5 stars ) was OVERBOOKED! We were transferred to another property 30 minutes away. Augh!

The new property was beautiful and came with an even higher rating (Gran Tourism). Cool, maybe this wasn't such a bad thing. After all, our room had beautiful marble floors and a sunken living room area. Well, unfortunately these would have been wonderful if I were still single, but I have kids people; thus the FAMILY vacation!!!!

Marble, by itself, is slippery as hell. Add water or sand to it and it can become a real pain in the ass. And the sunken living room meant there were stairs! Great, just what I wanted to do while on vacation, watch Emma and Sean challenge each other to a "jump off" every two minutes. Did I mention they were landing on wet, sandy marble floors?

Thankfully, days two through five were spent back in our meek 5 star hotel. Thank God, no more stinkin' marble floors or sunken anything. Plus, we got upgraded to an ocean front suite. Sweet! Finally, the vacation really began, the weather was good, the kids were having a ball in the pool, and even enjoyed staying up late listening to cheesy karaoke acts in the lobby while Steve and I took advantage of the free drinks.

However, when taking advantage of the free buffets, heed this VERY IMPORTANT TIP: I strongly suggest you send your husband to get his stuff from the buffet table first because he just might be the jerk who wants to try everything without realizing that the kids could care less if they have flower shaped butter balls, they just want to get to the pool (not that my sweet Steve was that jerk, no, not at all).

By day two, things were going so well we decided to venture out. TIP: WHEN TRAVELING TO MEXICO WITH SMALL CHILDREN, TAKE CARSEATS. We had to wait two days for a rental car that had one, and when it did arrive it smelled like puke. We even tried to buy one at Walmart (yup, there is now a Walmart in Cancun) but were really surprised at the cost and selection. There were only 2 really flimsy ones for more than $200 (U.S. currency) each.

Even so, our ventures away from the hotel were worth the hardships. We all got to swim with dolphins. The "Encounter" programs are great for families because you get to spend about half-hour touching, kissing and getting to know the dolphins while in the ocean. You stand on a platform so even small kids can participate. Emma, age 3, loved it. Sean, age 20 months, cried for about 20 minutes, calmed down, got splashed in the face and cried for another 10.

I was ecstatic to find that snorkeling (the only thing I really wanted to do) can easily be done with small kids. You just throw them in a floatie and tie them to your life jacket with the hair tie you were wearing and begin to tow (easy peasy). The beauty of this technique, that I'd like to believe I created, is that while you're face is in the water you can't hear a single noise from the kids above you. Until, as happened with us, a Barracuda the size of Emma swims by you and some "wonderful" lifeguard points this fact out to your child. Those screams, it turns out, can actually be heard quite well. I, of course, calmed Emma down by swimming in the other direction, completely unaware that I was swimming directly into the path of a 150 pound grouper. Oh well, live and learn (at least I got to snorkel).

The week went by too fast considering all the time, energy and sofa money it took to get us there. We finished the trip off with a great news. We were upgraded to first class for the flight home. Yeah baby! I've never done that before and I was excited. I was even gonna ask for some Grey Poupon.

The dirty looks we got while boarding with two small children reminded me why I had never gone first class before. Those other passengers were a bunch of Jerks, Snobs and *&%*%*(&_!! You'd swear they'd never seen a small child before. The dirty looks were compounded by the fact that both Emma and Sean had 15 minute power naps on the way to the airport. Neither slept a single minute. See,those sleepless nights worrying about flying were worth it after all.

The flight home was 5 hours of transferring Emma and Sean back and forth from one lap to another, eating with one hand while feeding the kids with the other, picking up dig-E-players that kept getting dropped and getting dirty looks from everybody that went to the bathroom. Even after all that, I can't help but laugh while remembering when Emma said (just before we landed): "So, mom, what should we pack for our next family vacation?"

2006-05-24T21:12:00.000-07:00

Problem: Which Parent Had a Harder Day?

I swear that every time I have an extremely tough or stressful day Steve always has a harder more stressful one (or at least that's what he thinks).

There are days, like today, when I wish Steve would just come home and say "I'll take over from here honey, why don't you go soak in the tub for a couple of hours?" But it's usually more like, "I had a really tough day too." Then our stress and exhaustion escalates to the point where we are both at each others throats over just about anything.

Today for example, I had to take Emma to the doctor. She was up all night with a fever of 104 (that meant I was up too). I think she might have picked up something while on vacation because she was folded over in pain until she finally was able to go to the bathroom this morning (and hasn't stopped going all day). Sean, who has found a new interest in the potty, insisted on flushing the toilet for her every single time. This did not go over very well with Emma who is the whiniest child you've ever met when sick or tired. Today she was both.

Our appointment was painfully scheduled for 12:00. Prime nap time. I had to crank up the air to keep them both from falling asleep, then carry both down what felt like the longest hallway in the world, only to learn she still had a 104 fever. "We need to do some labs," her doctor said. "Don't worry it's just a block away." Great. I figured I'd go down to the car and grab the stroller and that way I'd just have to carry one. I could also use this opportunity to change Sean who had loaded his diaper. Oh, did I mention it was 12:30 and the lab closed at 1:00 for lunch? Plus, the blood work had to be done STAT (right away) in order to get the results back by 4:00. Nothing could be done for Emma until we had those. I rush down to the car to find that there were no strollers in the trunk. We had moved them before our vacation to leave space for the luggage and never put them back. "Okay," I thought, "I'll just park at the lab." Wrong. I had just used up my last check and had no time to get cash from the ATM.

By this point, we were all ready to cry. Screw it, I parked in a loading zone halfway down the block. I'll just pay for the ticket. So they drew blood from Emma. A first for all of us. Hopefully a last. At this point we all DID cry. Nothing sucks more than having to hold your kid while you know they are in pain, even if it is for their own good.

We were sent home with no suckers (forgot) and containers to collect stool samples for both Emma and Sean. I have changed a hundred diapers, but nothing is grosser than collecting poop and trying to fit it into these tiny containers. Which, by the way, needs to be kept cold. So if you should come over to my place, stay away from the little bag in the fridge that says "Happy Birthday" (I was out of lunch bags).

So after sharing my day with Steve and trying to let him know how stressful it was, he told me about his. Steve, by the way, is a Facilities Manager. In laymen's terms, it means he takes care of making sure things run smoothly for whatever building he runs. "Someone committed suicide today and landed in our parking lot. Yeah, I had to wait with the body until the Fire Department came to throw a blanket over the victim."

O.K. Steve, today you had a more stressful day. I'll pick up the slack, I'll make dinner, set the table, give baths, read bedtime stories, give medication, read a couple more stories and tuck everyone in. But shotgun on the next stressful day we both have.

2006-05-23T21:30:00.000-07:00

The Ten Truths of Pregnancy

1. That whole nine months thing is a myth. The entire pregnancy is really 10 months (40 weeks divided by 4 = 10 months), and the last month feels like two.

2. Your body will never be the same. Your bladder will never hold urine the way it did, your stomache will never be flat again and by the time your elephant-like ankles finally stop swelling your foot will have grown at least one shoe size.

3. You will be able to smell like a bloodhound-literally. When I was pregnant I could pinpoint the exact location of all the dog pee in the neighborhood. Now I know there's a reason that humans don't ordinarily have this skill- it's DISGUSTING.

4. It's true that your face will glow. This merely highlights the pimples and dark spots you will get from all the damn hormones.

5. Morning sickness (AKA mourning sickness) lasts all day not just in the morning. Don't worry, that goes away after only three extremely long months.

6. Your body temperature will rise so much that you will actually look forward menopause hotflashes.

7. Say good-bye to your sex drive and your happy marriage- it'll be at least two years before your life is back to "normal."

8. You REALLY won't be able to stop peeing.

9. That baby weight does not just "fall off!"

10. It's not over until you've given birth, and whether you have a C-section or a natural birth, there's just NO easy way for that little bugger to come out.