Giggles aside..just some time and Tylenol..oh crap. That wasn't worth the co-pay!

Rachel is sick.  I wish I could trade places with her.  (And this is where the Bad Mom Award comes in..) Not to only take her pain away from her curable sickness but to hope for quiet..because if I were sick, wouldn't she be quiet around me?

Rachel has been sick all weekend..a nagging cough, low grade fever, no appetite and so cranky..even with Ching. She is always cranky for me..but Ching?  Step back, there is an issue.  We used Tylenol this weekend, juice, freeze pops..some things worked, some not so much.  And thankfully Nana was around to give us some relief.  She was so tired of us and Nana..like a new toy.

But Sunday night (really, you know how I feel about Sunday night?), she wouldn't sleep.  At 12:31, she started crying.  I know the time exactly because Ching's strawberry shortcake coma (that he ate while watching The Game of Thrones) kicked in at 12:17.  At 12:28 I went downstairs with a pillow and Rachel started crying.  After 3 minutes, I couldn't take it and Ching was also awake from his cake and berry stupor. (While I complain..it was just some snoring and chop licking like he was a small dog..but I am grateful, no gas..)

While I desert my lone pillow on the family couch..I joined Ching and Rachel in our king size bed..plenty of room but would she let us sleep?  God damn..what kind of mother asks that?    As soon as she starts sleeping next to us..I start bargaining with God.  If she sleeps through the night, I will be a better mother..less wine, less "hustle"..God knows I am lying.  At least I didn't try to trade in the snark..that would be too obvious.

After bargaining with the Lord, and seeing past my flimsy pagan ways..Rachel slept very little.  I took her to the doctor's praying for an ear infection.  (Bad mom..bad freakin mom!)  I just want some antibiotics...not a virus.  But freak me..it's a virus.  Not just any virus, one that makes me giggle because I am immature..the Coxsackie Virus! (Giggles aside..just some time and Tylenol..oh crap. That wasn't worth the co-pay!)

While she has been diagnosed and Nana was around the first day..Ching and I had the second day to navigate through prior to sending Rachel to daycare.  Like an agile mountain cat..Ching says that he has morning meetings, so he can only do afternoon.  Really?  Okay..I will go to work while (Ching) comes home while Rachel will nap three hours.

I wasn't sure how to end this but then as I am writing this, I am watching Dancing With the Stars with my mom:
Mom: "Have you ever her Maria Menounos laugh?"
Jude: "No, is it bad?"
Mom:  "Oh Christ..like a cow farting."

I can't top that with my written wit..

It sounds like one, studious..the other..loses her undies at parties. I would like to avoid that.

In the grand scheme of things..I thought I would have a daughter and then a son.  Yeah..that didn't happen.  When Laurel was born, I had 5 names picked..I used the top two for her (Laurel--because it is awesome and Alexa, my middle name.)  I had three names left JUST in case my second child was a girl.

Well..freak you Chinese birth chart..you were wrong!  (Obviously, they don't think of me as one of their peeps).  While the chart claimed I would have a boy based on my age and conception month..my second was a girl.

Immediately, I panicked.  I didn't have another name that I felt the same way as I felt for "Laurel".  My three other choices were craptastic..Eliza-Kate?  Hyphenated first name(?)--really?    Chloe??  I don't think so--that sounds like I hug people.  Meryn..not bad but just not right.

There were other names..but they just didn't seem right.  I loved the name Natasha.  But having one daughter named Laurel and the other Natasha?  It sounds like one, studious..the other..loses her undies at parties.  I would like to avoid that.

While I was thinking of names for my second daughter..Laurel piped in her suggestions:  Polly--apparently Laurel thought I was giving birth to a parrot.  Marina..first evidence of the freakin' Fresh Beat Band show..And then Rachel..Laurel was insistent on the name Rachel.

(Coincidentally, Ching mentioned Rachel one night..odd.)  But let's focus on my choices.  I thought of others:  Charlotte--nice but now seemed trendy.  Julia--I love saying this name and still do..  Juulliiiaaa...still love it..rhymes with Goulia.  (I work with a Julia--after reading this, she will avoid eye contact.)  As a dark horse, I suggested Chandler.  Ching told me that I must be on crack to think that he would agree to that.  Awesome...Chandler..not an option.

So the day before Rachel was born..it was down to Charlotte, Julia and Rachel.  Laurel was so convinced that her baby sister's name should be Rachel, that Ching and I quietly decide on that name because Laurel made such a nice choice.  But then there was her middle name?  Really there wasn't any other option.

When thinking about using a name from my family, I didn't have to consider Ching's family.  Apparently, the practice of naming a baby after anyone is bad..really bad.  It is considered stealing.  Whatever..more for me.

My daughter's middle name should be Jessica--to me it was a given but not mentioned.  (Soon to be Rachel's) aunt, my sister is very strong, smart and funny--snarky funny..not that crap, silly funny.  My girl that I would know as Rachel Ru would love her Aunt Jess.  It seemed too simple for the written word.  Ching didn't need convincing either.  This was a woman who put him under a microscope for several years.  My favorite moment was Ching stumbling about my middle name back when we were dating and Jess seeing a moment of weakness.  Sprinting upstairs (so fast, I think she tripped)..yelling "Ching doesn't even know Jude's middle name.."  This was better than a mystery box, wrapped under the Christmas tree.  This made Ching laugh too.   Regardless..he knew his daughter's middle name should be her aunt's..

Rachel was born very early in the morning.  Ironically Rachel's Aunt Jess is a morning person too.  I waited until 6:30 to make the call.  Telling my younger sister that my daughter's name was Rachel Jessica was the most unexpected,  joyous moments of my life.  When I named my daughter, I didn't even think about the reaction.

"What did you name her?"
"Oh..her name is Rachel..Rachel Jessica Wang."
"Really??"  (At an octave that I had never heard, I could hear her hands clasp in delight and see her smile.)
"Of course.."

Ching looked at me and told me that he wanted to protect the family.

Ching looked at me and told me that he wanted to protect the family.  (More life insurance?...Mama Jude would need to mourn..)
"I want to buy a gun."
Are you freakin' kidding me?  I don't even know where to start.  Ching can't kill a spider without man-squealing.  And has he thought about the kick back?

I love my man Ching Wang but he is blind as a bat.  Likely a prowler, that would initiate a gun (and him trying to feel like Sean Connery) would be in the dark, while we are sleeping.  To get the gun:
1.  Ching needs to find his glasses (or ask me..Jude, have you seen my glasses?)
2.  Is he going to have to turn a light?  (Our lights are not on "The Clapper..you know..Clap On, Clap off..the Clapper"  Holy Shit, obviously this week has been in the crapper.) I truly believe that he could shoot me rather than the target.
3.  And could he even find the gun and the bullets?  Laurel would burrow it in her stuffed animals or Rachel would throw it away (entry 4/25-read it, love it.)

Currently, I have stood quite strong and we have no gun in the Wang residence (don't worry..we won't.)  So Ching has taken to another weapon (and I am not talking about his dutch oven capabilities.)  In our condo, prior to the cul-de-sac, we discovered something in a closet that we were about to renovate.  In the closet, there was a dowel about the length of a baseball bat.  Ching thought it would be handy next to his side of the bed..Because maybe he thought a pinata would break into our house while we were sleeping?  Anyway, there is a big ass stick next to Ching's side of the bed.

I have a better weapon...it's Rachel.  She can make a grown man cry with a mere chomp!  (4/9--most popular entry to date.)

I just trim down the clutter and sniff for any old snack.

Let's cut to the chase.  What if Laurel becomes one of those hoarder types with mountains of stuff crowding her living space?  And there are cats roaming all over?

There are a couple of signs that are not in her favor.  First, she is my daughter.  I know that there is a little bit of crazy inside.  Secondly, she saves everything.  Not just good or bad art but countless items that should be tossed like empty toilet paper roles, candy wrappers (because they are pretty), every trinket she got from McDonald's and the fish tank rocks from that fish that lasted for two weeks last summer.  Her pockets are stuffed with rocks, crayons, old stickers and maybe a whistle.  For Christ's sake, I find sticks in her backpack--why does she need sticks?

I appreciate that she wants to recycle and re-use.  (She is absolutely not my kid with that trait.)  But sometimes it borders ridiculous.  Every time we buy her new sneakers, she wants to save her old ones for Rachel.  Keep in mind that we are buying new ones because the old ones stink and probably have a gaping hole.  I have to throw them out while Laurel isn't looking.  Rachel will always get new shoes.

Rachel doesn't have this trait--actually it is quite the opposite.  Rachel throws everything away..including books and cash.  (To Rachel, cash is paper that crumples.  Any crumpled paper goes in the trash.  One day I found $72 in the garbage.)

So while Rachel is a minimalist, Laurel is a "maximist"?  Every so often I have to go into Laurel's room with a garbage bag.  I don't throw away everything..I just trim down the clutter and sniff for any old snack.  I just hope I don't find covered cups with old chunky milk.  If found, those cups aren't washed out..they go right in the trash.

Jude Carlson-Wang..funk, formality and balance from a little bit of Wang..perfect.

I had to look up a parent in the school directory.  I noticed a child in another class (not Laurel's) that has this craptastic hyphenated name that was 11 characters, then 8 characters..holy shit.  This girl has to write an 19 letters for her last name..obnoxious.  Then I feel like a hypocrite because if you look at my last name..it is hyphenated.  I used to scorn bitches who hyphenated their name.  I thought it was ridiculous..and then I did it. So, I fell the need to validate my name to my flock (apparently tonight, I feel like Jesus..let's go with it.)

When Ching and I got out marriage license in St Paul, MN, I was immediately told to choose my last name.  I thought I had more than a moment..not so much.  On the spot, I hyphenated my name to Carlson-Wang...for the following three reasons:
1.  Work..son of a bitch, a life decision comes down to work.  If I hyphenated my name rather than change it, I would be easier to find.  Type in "Carlson" in the e-mail database and up comes "Carlson-Wang".  I didn't think of the fact that there were people that I hoped would never find me.
2.  Did you ever see the Seinfeld episode where Jerry thinks he has made a date (over the phone) with Donna Chang?  He meets her and she is Caucasian--she has shortened her name from Changstein to Chang.  He thought she would be an exotic, beautiful Asian woman.  He was disappointed.  Needless to say..with Jude Wang..I wanted to avoid that.  I am not exotic in the least..
3. Jude Wang?  Really?  It doesn't sound that good.  For the majority of my life, I loved being called "Jude" but hated the last name, "Carlson"..it didn't seem to match.  Funky..but formal..no, no, no..  With Jude Wang..it sounded funky but harsh..and like a Wang Chung song.  (If you don't know..just move on..I don't want to explain to the young people.)  Jude Carlson-Wang..funk, formality and balance from a little bit of Wang..perfect.

As I made the decision to be hyphenated, Ching made it clear that he wanted his kids to be all Wang.  (Inside, I giggled..because I am me and a little bit childish)  But I agreed.  I would never have a child saddled with a double decker name..this is mine only.  I am not militant about my name..if you want to call me Mrs. Wang..I am cool with that.

Cool with "All Wang..All the Time"..hope Laurel and Rachel feel the same..

I need Botox...and (for you giggling) I don't need it for my pits.

I need Botox.  I am not afraid of my 40th right around the corner and (for you giggling) I don't need it for my pits.  I need it for my poker face--that's right,  I am surprised that I haven't been kicked in the ass all ready.  I consider myself lucky.  I wear my emotions right there.  Even when my snark is held in (and my head is pounding), you can see my feelings on my face.  At six, it was considered expressive.  At 39, not so much.   If you stink or are stupid..you will see it on my face even while I am silent.  I can't hold it.  I think of my issue as a Tourette syndrome of the face---my face.

One of my best, Sue, had a birthday in Vegas.  She claims that her favorite moment was my expression when Heidi (also my girl) kissed a dude on the dance floor.  Let me tell you, that this dude was giving the mac daddy vibe, straight out of Jet magazine.  As Heidi is kissing this guy..Sue thought my expression was priceless.  (Oh shit, was it an expression of surprise, disgust..jealousy?  This guy seemed cool and H is cool..oh crap..it was jealousy.  I hope it looked like jealousy..H, while she wouldn't, does have the potential to kick the crap out of me.)

Most days..stone face..c'mon stone face!! Don't slip..(I think my face is drunk.)

But then again, I am blessed. (Go for the positive!) Apparently,  I have a constant pensive look on my face...some people don't approach me.  I know I look like I need more bran in my diet but if you don't talk to me..that's cool.  I don't like people..  We have covered that, right?

Ching's aunt and uncle pretended not to hear that comment.

So good to be home.  I did go into this Wang Family Vacay with a bit of pessimism--slightly glass half empty but I can't help it, I see potential snark in everything.  There were expectations met but also delightful and craptastic surprises.  Rather than give you a day by day recap..I thought it best to give you some highlights (Kind of like a clip show--really wish I had a soundtrack.)

Travel, not bad but not great:
Ching had the idea of late or red eye flights so the girls would sleep.  Only Laurel followed suit.  Rachel was awake 3.5 hours of a 5.5 hour flight.
This plane had three seats on either side of the aisle.  Since we are a family of 4--one lucky soul got to sit in the odd seat.  I wasn't that soul--I tried but Rachel wouldn't have it.  (This is when she chooses to like me.)
Same feeling..different trip-- The whole de-planing, luggage retrieval, rental car..quick hotel check in always makes me want to turn around and go home.
We stayed at a hotel the first night to avoid driving..but I didn't like the hotel.  If my stay doesn't include a room service menu and an honor bar..it's ghetto.

Expectations Met/Feeling Renewed:
Got my crispy duck moo-shi at Sam Woo!  Granted the duck wasn't inspected but I did see another table totally giving a live king crab the once over before the kill.  (Also, I love going to Sam Woo because the restaurant is in the same shopping area as the CVS where I bought my last ovulation kit before Laurel was born..damn, good times!)
Rachel was a great eater..Laurel, not so much.  While Ching's aunt and uncle praised Rachel for eating asparagus, Laurel made it clear that she doesn't eat asparagus because she doesn't want stinky pee.  Ching's aunt and uncle pretended not to hear that comment.
I hate theme parks.  I don't like the rides or the inflated costs.  But mostly I hate watching parents yell at their kids when (the kids) are so overstimulated from the excitement and sugar.  I also hate seeing people steering their "electric rider" with their right hand while holding a massive turkey leg with their left.  Put down the leg and get some exercise.
Sand--I hate it.
Sun--I try but every freakin' time I burn something..this time it was the right side of my nose and my left foot.
I knew Laurel could hear me!  All this time, she was just ignoring me when I said "hustle" or "dinner".  As we are driving into San Diego..I go into Ron Burgundy mode.  I side-mouth whisper to Ching that it means whale's vagina..Of course Laurel questions me for the next 5 minutes about saying whale's vagina.

Mother of the Year Award Moment:
At Sea World, we went to a dolphin show.  Ching and Laurel really wanted to sit in the soak zone.  This zone is the first 12 rows close to the water--you are likely to get wet during the performance.  The Wangs definitely got wet as the dolphins..were just being little bitches.  But here is the crux:  As we were getting splashed, Ching shielded Rachel.  Did I shield Laurel?  Nope..shielded myself.  There was definite payback minutes after the show when a seagull shit on me.

Is There Something Wrong with Me?
I am absolutely bored when it comes to dolphins and whales.  The only thing that intrigued me during the whale show was how fat the lead guy was..Honey, look in the mirror while in the wet suit prior to the show.

Family Style Was Meant for Chinese Dinners Only
Family Style was not meant for the Cheesecake Factory.  When I go there I want my own entree and dessert--I don't want to share.  Four people should not share 1 app and 3 entrees. I left feeling hungry and my only liquor was this weak Cosmo..I have had wine spritzers stronger than that drink.

The Snark Stayed Inside because I am going to Hell:
While we were at In and Out Burger, there was an elderly woman that came up to Laurel to tell her that she was the prettiest girl she had ever seen.  This woman had those huge cataract sunglasses on..I was intrigued how she could even see Laurel?
Disneyland--I saw some sort of girly dance troop with the heaviest make-up on..it was so thick..they could have been boys.  Speaking of emasculated boys, during the princess meet and greet, this pre-teen boy was forced, by his mother, to do dance and proposal poses with Cinderella..holy shit.

Birth Control?
Ching's cousin flew down from San Fran to spend some time with the girls and the other kids in Ching's family.  Newly married, she expressed that she wanted to have kids.  I am curious after spending the weekend with 5 kids under the age of 9, if she still feels that way or just renewed her birth control prescription?

I joke about the trip but I know this (trip) went well.  While we were getting on the plane home, apparently I was a couple of steps ahead of Ching and the girls.  The attendant asked if I was a party of one.  Immediately I said.."Oh no, I am with my family."  Since I didn't bolt, I guess the trip was pretty good.

I will probably give Ching a purple nurple for trying to sleep a little later

(First I would like to clarify something from last night's entry.  I know there are two very good friends in Connecticut saying "hey--you had a lot of liquor before that week of engagement."  This is true--lots of bad gin and grapefruit juice..okay let me stop there.  But that week was the first time when it became part of my repertoire.)

Today the Wangs head out West. Deep breaths--this is a vacation.  This is your loving family.  This is also what you should expect:

My nerves will be pushed to the limit while on the way to Logan.  While Ching is driving, he will decide to pick at his nails which will cause him to slightly swerve.  At this time, I will doubt his driving abilities.  This is not a good feeling going into the airport and to the TSA. (Please let the line be light...)

I will be asked about work which I will say is busy.  I then will be peppered with several retirement planning questions.

I will have to hold in my snark and politely walk away. Walk away..just politely walk away.  (Did I pack Advil?)

If we are out at a family dinner with Asian cuisine, Ching's Uncle will joke that everyone should read their fortune cookies with the ending "in bed"..he laughs hysterically every time..I have heard this seven times..really.  It have never been clever.

I will have dreadfully over packed for the girls and under packed for me.  (Ching is on his own.)

I will bribe Laurel with a special toy, not to be good, but to try some God awful food that I am also gagging down too.

Ching's family will laugh at his lack of "Asian taste" and will order him pork fried rice.  While it seems like "typical" Chinese food, pork fried rice is not Chinese.  (Like being from Maine and wanting to frequent Red Lobster.)

I am hoping for an amazing dinner with a duck that needs to be inspected prior to serving it to the table.  You haven't lived until you have a crispy duck moo-shi with green onion.

I will probably give Ching a purple nurple for trying to sleep a little later while I get up with both girls and have to deal with other Wangs.

I bitch..but I will have a good time.  A rested time..absolutely not..but a good time.

(I will see you again on April 22--with some juicy juicy snark..)

I felt like I needed to breathe into a paper bag..

It was about this time, 10 years ago that I started to drink liquor..no wine..right to liquor.  It was initiated by an early morning walk to work.  As I walked through the South End, every so often carefully avoiding a steaming pile on the sidewalk, something donned on me.  Ching was visiting this weekend from Philadelphia.  In the past, he mentioned he would propose prior to his graduation.  This visit was the last one until his graduation.  This weekend was the weekend.  I walked faster and the sky just seemed to get so big.  All of a sudden I felt so small and I felt like I needed to breathe into a paper bag.

It wasn't a surprise that we were going to get married.  Six weeks prior, we had put a deposit down at Clay Hill Farm in York for our reception.  Apparently he had picked out the ring--not on his own; I had drawn a picture of what I liked and faxed it to him.  You see, the Wangs don't do capital purchases on a whim.  We have to plan..on a spreadsheet..we are planners.  So during this morning walk, I am not sure where the anxiety came from..

All at once, I knew my life would change.  I didn't have total control of the outcome anymore. (Snap out of it..your ovaries are getting any younger!)

I called my mother to see if she could confirm what I thought was going to happen.  She said she had no idea (she was lying).  I got home and made a lemon drop--Vodka citron, Cointreau, powdered sugar and fresh lemon, shaken with ice.  A very high maintenance drink at the time.  Over time this drink has slimmed down to just Citron--neat.

I was so happy and so scared.  I also realized that this drink tasted so much better than white wine.

Of course, I was right. That Friday, Ching flew up from Philadelphia.  We went for a casual dinner at the Cheesecake Factory.  (I knew Ching had the ring on him because he was wearing a very bulky coat for such a warm evening.)  Rather than proposing during the fancy dinner planned for that Saturday, Ching thought he was being clever choosing the casual evening.  The evening didn't matter to me..I just wanted to hear what he had to say.  We went for a walk and he proposed in the Public Garden.  I willed myself to remember so many details of that night, mainly the small ones that would only seem important to me.  I can remember the whole proposal, the itchiness of my red sweater and the heaviness of the ring.  I was so scared it would drop off my hand that I turned it inward as we walked home..

If I had known how easy that moment was compared to the challenges of marriage and the future, I probably would have put off the vodka.  Such a silly girl back in 2002.

Even the house smells different without having a child beg for juice or cheese stick

An accident on the Pike kept me from my Friday Mother Lounge tonight.  While I would curse the 13th falling on a Friday, there are five cars and their drivers that are cursing the day harder than me. By the time I got home tonight, Ching and the girls were back from dinner.

The lounge is pretty special but it doesn't require a secret handshake or extra cash. It just requires someone appreciating something simple and rare..for me it is silence.

Ching usually gets both girls on Fridays and sometimes, he will take them out to dinner.  I can leave work a little after 5:00 and walk through the door into my lounge. It is pretty basic..it is our home. This couldn't work on a ragged Tuesday, only on a Friday. Even though I have five God damn loads and clutter up my butt..I don't care.  I don't have to make lunches at 5:30 the next morning.  It is silent..the silence envelopes me like freakin' heaven.  The silence is mine.  Even the house smells different without having a child beg for juice or cheese stick because they can't wait for dinner.  God damn..this place is mine and mine alone.

Some people feel weird walking into a silent house in fear of what may be lurking.  It doesn't freakin' scare me.  God help that lurker that takes away from my silence.  I would tear that bastard limb over limb.

I don't do anything tawdry or slam shots. When I walk into the door, I don't even do much.  Perhaps I just change my clothes and sit on the bed. Maybe a gimlet or a glass of wine would follow while I work on my blog.  (I ignore the laundry and clutter.)

The television is never turned on..hell, I don't even talk to myself.

Earlier this week I wrote about Ching's chomped ween..don't think he will mind this...

Does your significant other have a really weird (of course, always legal) habit?  One, still over several years, makes you look at your partner and wonder, "when in the hell did that manifest itself?" And of course with me, I need to reason with myself that I didn't cause that issue.

Initially, I thought I shouldn't write about this but, really?  A few days ago, I wrote about Ching's ween being chomped on by a child-assuming it was a thumb or something.  This is so minor compared to that..)

Okay, this is it--Every time Ching enters the bathroom, he must take off his glasses. (Mr. JCW wears glasses.) It may seem innocuous on a random occurrence but this happens every single God damn time.  What in the hell happened to him to cause this?  When he was a child, did he drop his glasses in the bowl..while it was dir-ty?  Or is he just afraid of the poo?  Was he told as a child that he was someone different in the bathroom--Clark Kent on the outside but Superman while in the commode?

I will never forget when we were in Hawaii several years ago. Ching and I were newly married, at this beautiful waterfall, hundresds of people but no public, well-maintained restrooms. There were only Port-O Potties..very ghetto, stinky potties.  It was gross.  I think it would have been better if we had peed in a bush.  Ching and I did what we had to do and moved on but he couldn't discuss it.  There was no place for Ching to put his glasses..so he saw the grossness and the flies.  Several hours later as I was joking about it, he couldn't discuss.  His hands waved furiously and his head shook violently...holy shit, he is afraid of the...shit.

On the postive side, it is very helpful during that coincidental time when I am targeting the same bathroom and I see him take his glasses off (looking like he is going to drop a bomb.)  I get first choice..always.

Is this why he doesn't wear contacts or get Lasik? Quirky..but then again, I talk to myself.

I wish I could celebrate this time of year with cheese and wine..

Oh, it's that time of year.  You know..it's raining....Forms.   For me the forms revolve around Laurel's 1st grade enrollment into her after school program, Laurel's summer resort time disguised as camp and Rachel's next year in Toddler 2! (Yay..my baby will be in Toddler 2 and perhaps, soon out of diapers!)

Believe me..I wish I could celebrate this time of year with cheese and wine--Yay--forms! But honestly, I am just drinking the wine for other reasons.

Can't they recycle some of this info to the next year?  Hell no..let's start from scratch every single, God damn, painful time.

While giving reiterated information, I try to look to the positive and joke about certain things.  Look at that!  I am growing!
1.  Allergies--nope, my girls have none.  They are just..picky.
2.  Immediate contacts--This makes me nervous.  You never want to put someone, who doesn't have kids, in an awkward situation of being called out of a meeting or hot date.  During the six years of being a parent, Ching and I have never needed the immediate contacts. (But you better believe me, Ching and I have gotten the calls to come pick up mid-day..and tossed that call/kid situation back and forth like a hot potato.  Come on..who wants to be home with a sick kid during non-nap time?) Anyway, we list our family babysitter and a family friend who is a cop..sounds good to me.
3.  Why do they want to know what I do?  Have you ever noticed that?  On the contact form, I have to listed my occupation..which always depresses me.  If I had the balls (or boobs), I would list something like CEO, comedian or hooker.  (Funny how I pick those three off the bat.)
4.  Behavioral issues--this part makes me sad.  My girls, so far, seem well balanced.  (Granted, I didn't start taking Prozac until I was 22.)  I have a dear friend, Sue, that has two beautiful kids but she does have to check off autism and "social" situations on these freakin' forms.  All at once, it makes me grateful, guilty, sad and then kind of pissed.  But then I remember Sue and her awesomeness..she would check the boxes off without abandon and in parentheses she would say, "This isn't a situation..this is my life, mo'fo!"  (Everyone needs a friend like this!)

I would like to think that I have my shit together and get to the right form, at the right time.  Nope..while I just needed to fill out an application for Laurel's after school program, I filled out the whole packet.  (Briefly..I filled out pages 2-14 while I just needed to do page 1).  I got a little snark from the office administrator for my oversight.  I wasn't offended..actually I feel like I should send her a bottle of wine.

Today, Laurel's forms for her after school program needed to be there by 6:00 today to secure a spot for 2012-2013.  I know I put it in the right slot...please, let me have put it in the right slot.

Do you think those actors drink when it's a wrap?

How long can you hear Dora in the background before you start asking yourself the following questions:
Why does Dora hang out with a monkey?  And how come her parents seem fine with that?  And I am surprised that there isn't some fox coalition that deems Swiper unsuitable because he is stereotyping foxes?

How long can you look at DJ Lance of Yo Gabba Gaba and not ask:
Dude, was your creator high or what?

Wonder Pets?
Lynnie or Linnie--totally an androgynous guinea pig?

And finally The Fresh Beat Band?
Do you think those actors drink when it's a wrap?


I have got to turn off, what I call, Nature's Babysitter more often.  I use it to entertain the girls, to create a diversion or to give me some peace.  I am totally perplexed at some mothers that say that very little television is allowed at home.  I keep my mouth shut but inside I am screaming ."LIAR!"  But maybe they are not lying..if my girls didn't know what they were missing and I could cut my losses now.  I could avoid those terrible tween shows with girls in sparkly clothes acting stupid around boys and those same boys needing a haircut.  (I swear, just a notch above reality television.)  My girls are smarter than that dreck..smarter than Calliou and the Wiggles (those guys freak the crap out of me.)

Less television would be good--I should really do less television.  It would avoid situations when someone (probably at work) randomly refers to a map..I don't have cartoon dancing in my head singing, "I'm the map, I'm the map, I am the map.." And I course I am singing to myself..my lips slightly moving.

Inside I was chomping at the bit to write about this (no pun intended..you will understand later.)

So I want to tell a funny story.  I am doing it to avoid whining about Laurel's sassiness, the crap commute or the fact that Rachel just peed on the carpet.  I also want to avoid the task of trying on summer clothes for this Wang family vacay--my legs are so pasty, flaky and in need of a shave.  Also, I hate trying take inventory of my wardrobe--it kind of sucks.

Okay..funny story..yesterday during our Easter dinner we were talking about my blog.  Ching asked in front of several people if I had written about "the incident"?  I shook my head furiously..not only had I not written about it but I told very few people.  I thought it crossed the line.  He didn't think it was an inappropriate story.  Holy Crap..Gold! Inside I was chomping at the bit to write about this (no pun intended..you will understand later.)

First of all, Ching wears these pants around the house.  I call them old man pants.  While the material is a lighter version of your basic sweatpant, they tend to make him shuffle around like an old man.  I don't care for them because I am just looking into the future with every shuffle.  And who am I to complain? You just found out that shaving my legs is not an activity that I frequent.

So while Ching had these lightweight pants on, Rachel starts getting really clingy.  She is reaching up to be picked up but apparently Ching wasn't picking her up fast enough.  (Please keep in mind that she is not very tall.) I am not sure if she thought what she was near was a third thumb but all of a sudden, Ching screams out like he has just seen a spider.  I hear a thud and Rachel is on the ground, crying.  Ching is bent over cupping his manhood.  Holy shit, I don't think she grazed a testicle..she went straight for the moneymaker.  That's right..Rachel bit Ching's Wang.  (Oh man..not funny, not funny...don't laugh, JCW!)

While I immediately go to Rachel to comfort her, I know Ching had to push her off, hard..and I can empathize.  This kid brought me to tears when she was 2 days old. (At this time, I decided to pump rather than breastfeed.)  I can't imagine what real teeth could have done to my dirty pillows.   Also, I go to her to avoid making eye contact with him.  I might start to chuckle as he goes for some ice.

I had a feeling this was going to happen..a woman knows. Rachel tends to go straight for the jugular (or whatever). I gave the suggestion to cup it up..but did he listen?  Nope..but God damn..look who my heavy is if Ching starts to mention a third child again!

He sold it to me like a fart in church..

I got an e-mail from Ching yesterday.  He was forwarding me info to a work event.  It was a "YouthGala" at the Boston Four Seasons on April 28th.  Ching told me that it was a charity event that he was "encouraged"  at work to attend.  He then ended the e-mail with "Would you be interested in going?"

Holy Christ--this is your best game when asking me out on a date?  Is this what almost nine years of marriage has done?  There is absolutely no woo!

He sold it to me like a fart in church.."he is encouraged to attend"?  Sounds like he would rather go and turn his head and cough.

And this is such an easy sale for him.  This event is at The Four Seasons in Boston overlooking the park where we got engaged.  I love this place!  (Okay..have I told you my materialistic loves?  My two that turn me into jelly are square footage and carats.  The honorable mention is The Four Seasons--I love this place.  They host like no other.  Ironically, this was also the exact place that I introduced my mom and her friends to a Cosmopolitan, way back in 2002.  The world has never been the same.)

I deserve better woo!  I could get dressed up and shave my legs.  But do I do any better? My woo is wrapped up in a meatloaf or anything culinary..because, well..you know...that is what I do best.

Holy Crap..the Wangs suck at woo.  We really need to put more of that on the Wang Family Spreadsheet!

(No Hint of Attijude blog tomorrow--it's a religious holiday and I feel kind of weird being snarky.  But please join me on Monday--have a great topic all ready!)

What mother would choose laundry over her own children? I do--that's right, I freakin' do!

(If you would like regular updates on new entries, feel free to friend me on Facebook--Just search for hintofattijude.  Thanks for reading!) 

Today was prime example of why I cannot stay at home all day with my girls.  And I just had the easy one today--Laurel--the one mystified that I "didn't know" about the song that has my name in it (Nope, Laurel, never heard it.) or asked if I knew the difference between Beyonce and Nicki Minaj.  (Laurel--Beyonce will be around for a long time.  Nicki Minaj is this year's Kei$ha.)

Since the market is closed on Good Friday, I had today off.  Rachel's school was open; Laurel's was not.  I was with Laurel all day while Ching was at work.

While it may seem like the typical Saturday or Sunday, it is not.  During the weekend, Ching will take the girls out to lessons and lunch.  By no means am I all alone, gorging myself with donuts.  I am picking up the house, doing the 5 loads of laundry and going grocery shopping.  While the tasks are menial, I do them in silence.  (For the love of God, what mother would choose laundry over her own children?  I do--that's right (standing taller) I freakin' do!)

In between going into work and some errands, I promised to take her to lunch.  I offer Jerry Remy's (on the water) or Sal's Pizza--holy Christ, she wants McDonald's again.  I get my child's love of McD's but she doesn't even know how good it really was and now, the institution is just a shadow of itself.  I am dating myself--I was Laurel's age in the 70's.  This was when McD's used to be only burgers and fries and that random Filet O Fish.  The oil used to make the fries was "so fatty" that you could smell a McD's before seeing the arches.  Now this place puts apple slices in the Happy Meal..give me a break.  And so we go to McDonalds--I house a Big Mac, Large Fry and a Coke  (I am no hypocrite--no Diet Coke for me!)

By 1:30, I needed some quiet..and didn't have it.  Every minute there was a new question or a request for another snack..(Jesus, is your left leg hollow?) Why didn't I coordinate a playdate..stupid, stupid, stupid!  I offer to play some Uno and it gets hairy when Laurel wants to bend the rules.  When I said no, she claimed that Nana lets her do this..of course she does.  Nana likes to bend the rules too.  We stopped the game before cards were thrown.

By the time I text Ching mid afternoon to ask him when the hell he is coming home, she has rolled her eyes twice and tried to pull at "I am not (putting my sneakers on) unless I get a snack."  You want to go there?

Not my best day..here's to you:  To the moms that work inside the home..(as I uncork a bottle of wine.)

Will you feel like a princess when it is 3 a.m. and your soul mate is creating a dutch oven?

The Wangs got a wedding invitation today.  No joke, it was a message in a bottle..we got a plastic bottle and inside was a scrolled note with fake rose petals inviting us to a destination wedding.  (You know that this invite didn't come from my side.) It's a sign..I love when blog topics fall in my lap like this.

Here's my theory:  I think weddings shouldn't be allowed until you have been married for at least 10 years.  The wedding planning becomes so consuming that it seems that the reason for the wedding is forgotten.  Even if you do know that there may be a problem lurking underneath like a mold, it could be pushed aside just knowing that a custom gown will be worn.  (Isn't that right, Kim K?)

Imagine what it would do to the economy..so many weddings wouldn't even happen. Overpriced floral arrangements wouldn't be bought, little focus would be placed on filet or sea bass and the Chicken Dance wouldn't even be heard.

Ching and I had a moderately sized wedding--140 people (120 guests of Ching's and 20 of mine) celebrated our day.  It was a beautiful day for the guests..I will talk about the wedding accessory of a stick up my butt later. While Ching really wanted the wedding, wouldn't it have been better to celebrate 10 years after the fact, that we are still together and working on our relationship?  (Actually, Ching and I wouldn't even qualify for a wedding yet--it will be nine years this July.)

Is it because couple's want stuff?  The couple that sent the bottle haven't registered for stuff--they have specifically asked for cash.  Maybe I should send the invite back so they can get a refund on these ridiculous invites. You know, this is an Asian relative of Ching's--aren't the parents supposed to get the cash gifts?  When Ching and I got married in a small ceremony before our wedding (another story, another time), Ching's grandmother hosted a small dinner at a restaurant.  Ching's great uncle gave us a gift of $400.  As soon as the money hit his palm, in slow motion, I saw Ching turn and give it to his grandmother.  According to tradition, the parents, who host, get the gifts rather than the couple.  At that moment, my tears were not tears of joy and (oh yay!), I was married.

But more likely the wedding is to make a princess for a day. You know that you can throw a party and be a princess without being married?  Will you feel like a princess when it is 3 a.m. and your soul mate is creating a dutch oven? Will you feel like a princess when you can't stand the sight of each other?  Will you feel like a princess when you realize how hard it is to be married?

Marriage takes work.  Rather than spending countless hours on the planning, I think you have to spend countless hours earning the wedding.

And maybe at 10 years, the wedding isn't even wanted but there is a feeling of joy of still being married.  Would Ching and I have a wedding in 2013 if we didn't have one in 2003?  Not sure..but I am sure of who would need a bigger wedding outfit.

I have one whose boney butt won't sit in a chair..I have another who is a scavenger and then I have Ching...

How old will the girls be when dinner isn't a covert mission?  I am just looking for a gathering of the four Wangs, eating nicely, talking about their day and perhaps passing the butter every now and then.  In the past, I have written about being a short order cook but this is not about the food.  I have to be crafty and strategic like I am a championship coach--x's and o's and with eyes that can yell!

Walking through the door at 6:00 in the evening, Laurel will always plead that she is dying of hunger.  She is a vacuum when it comes to snacks.  She immediately needs three of anything.  I am curious what she does during the school day?  I have caved but to my advantage.  (I am not sure if this is a win but I can guarantee that Laurel--you absolutely didn't freakin' win..)  I will give her snacks but the snacks could double as parts of her dinner--cheese sticks, gogurt (because yogurt is better slurped in a tube) or fresh fruit.  It keeps her quiet and starts her dinner right away.  When she finally gets (the official) dinner, her boney butt will never actually sit in the chair.  I also have to do something with her hair..always on a non-bath night, her hair, that is growing out, comes dangerously close to her applesauce every freakin' time.  While the Wangs sit, she is constantly trying to leave the table with the bites bargain..how many more bites?  It is bites until her next activity..

(I have a friend, Julie, that lets her kid snack on raw veggies and hummus before dinner.  She explained to me that if the shit hits the fan during dinner and a time out results, at least she knows he got his veggies.  Freakin' genius.  Nobel-mother-prize genius. Imagine a mother winning a prize for something so practical and useful.  The prize would be a welcome stay in solitary with a wet cement floor..alone..knowing that she will get peace.  And an opportunity to wash, dry and straightened her hair in peace even if the shower is cold.)

And then Rachel..my girl, my nemesis.  She is a very good eater as long as she can eat what is on your plate.  I can duplicate what is on my plate and put it in front of her but she will turn her nose up like it was a big steamy pile of doody.  Rachel just wants to eat off of the plates of mine or Ching's. (This practice happens at school too.  Rachel, with her cute pudgy body, will reach and grab her friends' food.  Note to self..send some sort of snack/meal in for the class)   What is on my plate could be a traditional meat and potatoes or something exotic like escargot or salmon sushi. Rachel will eat it.  So I make a plate "for me" and feed it to her with a special robot fork...wait until she finishes and then I eat/or Ching takes over.

It shouldn't be this complicated..I have one child whose boney butt won't sit in her chair..I have another child who is a scavenger and then I have Ching...who won't give me a suggestion for dinner but a confirmation that he will eat anything.

I just want to eat alone..in the basement..silence.  Well, probably not, in about 20 seconds I will go in cray-cray mode and start talking to myself..

But here is my dirty little secret..I don't want to vacation with the Wangs.

I need a vacation.  The Wangs have one scheduled in 12 days but here is my dirty little secret..I don't want to vacation with the Wangs.

Our plans are this:  Ching, the girls and I are flying to the California.  We are staying with Ching's family in Laguna Niguel and Santa Monica.  Again (small voice), I don't want to go..This isn't a vacation.  This trip is a time away from my work (outside the home) but, God damn, I will still be working.  Let's not even go and I can return to my cube at 601 Congress. (At least at work I will get to pounce on the treadmill..on vacation, I count calories and wonder why Ching's family doesn't drink?--Hint to self..buy a flask..)

First, let's start with the packing--freak me--I hate the packing.  I don't know about you but I have to make a list of every possible thing that I may need for each girl..it is purchased or washed and then packed.  I then check Ching's stuff..to avoid an adult meltdown of a lack of socks or pressed golf shirt. A few hours before we go, my stuff is realized and then packed.  My crap looks like shit..I look like a schlub with a fanny pack (without the pack) from South Dakota. (I will buy a turkey leg at Disneyland to fill the part.)

Getting to the airport and the security check--another blog.  (Ching likes to self manicure as he weaves lanes through the Mass Pike)..again more on that later.

Since we are taking our vacation around Ching's family, I will be "up".  Ching's family has always been very kind to me..or kind to the nice version of me.  The energy of just being nice will cause a headache that will last until June 16.  Ching's family has seen mild snark, they thought it was amusing..silly white girl. Perhaps I should greet them with full Hint of Attijude? Nope, I won't because this will be the only visit to the West Coast Wangs in 2012.  I just want to stay in their good graces and keep the peace.  I am a good woman..funny, smart..our girls our clean and well fed..but mother freaker', I am tired (and full of so much nutritious snark.  Better than bran!)

We have some day trips planned--Disneyland and SeaWorld. Laurel is beyond excited..  Selfishly,  I can only predict meltdowns and the food that Laurel may or may not eat (if she is eating breaded meat that day)..

I will comeback to all sorts of chores and I will be more tired.  I will be living the cliche of "I need a vacation after my vacation" because of the the laundry, grocery shopping and prepping for the school days.

But perhaps..selfishly I will miss my love..my blog.  I can't do my blog on vacation..Please don't leave me while I am away..freakin' awesome, apparently desperate Jude of 1993 is calling. (She was a nice girl..really..)

My voice reaches an octave that I usually only hear when Ching sees a spider

God damn--it's April 2nd! I have neglected my friend AGAIN!  Why is it that I have the most random crap from 1984 still lodged in my brain but I can't remember a simple Amex payment by the 28th each month?  Amex has always treated me so well.  Back in 1997 when we made acquaintances, he taught me how to only charge something that I had to pay off at the end of the month--no balances, no interest.  As long as I didn't go over my personal limit, we remained close.  Treats here and there made me feel like a princess.

And the customer service...holy shit..totally boss.  They treat me with the admiration like I just put a homemade dinner in front of them rather than those little Wangs.  The last time that I called the 1-800 line to hear a little woo, I was greedy and I pushed it too far.

There was a purpose to my call.  There was this weird ass charge that I didn't make and I called to dispute it.  But rather than just hang up after they told me that they would take care of it and gave me a confirm, I stayed on because I knew what is coming next:

Amex:  Ms. Carlson-Wang, we really appreciate your business and your loyalty.  (You know this would work Rachel!)  Have you thought about upgrading to a Gold Card?  We believe that you could really benefit.
JCW:  (Go on--Thank God I didn't know a boy like Amex in high school.)
Amex:  We notice that you just booked a flight to Las Vegas.  You know, when you have a Gold Card, you have free access to all of the airline lounges.
JCW:  (Thank you for looking past the fact that the majority of my purchases are at Target, Carters and Diapers.com.  You know that they don't serve apple juice in the lounges.  Certain body parts will become tight and firm before they let my girls and me into a nice airport lounge.)
Amex:  We also offer an exclusive feature to get tickets and priority reservations.
JCW: (Yeah, that would be..awesome.  The Wangs haven't been on a good date since 2005.)
Amex:  And I see that you have made recent purchases at Tory Burch and Tiffany's.  You can earn reward points with purchases like that and we give you extra points on premium retailers so you can treat yourself later.
JCW:  (Thank you for cherry picking my coolest purchases out of the sea of Sunoco, Hanes her Way, and the occasional visit to my liquor store.)
Amex:  If you upgrade to Gold, you will get 25000 points.
(Hang up JCW..the bar is closing.  Don't go for any more. The bar is closing!!)
Amex:  You can use the points for purchase or toward the $450 annual fee.
JCW:  FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS! (My voice reaches an octave that I usually only hear when Ching sees a spider)
Amex: Yes..
(It gets awkward..oh crap..)

And the woo is over..I now feel cheap..like a booty call attempt that went very very bad..but give it six months..then give them a shout again.. Chin up JCW!

Such an amateur on my part....God, I hope to get that good.

"How many more bites?"
"Laurel", looking at her bowl, "Three more big bites and you can go back to the computer."
As she is finishing her dinner, she lets me know that she would like to have some friends over.
"Laurel--that is fine."  (Of course, you know, there are few that might not be let in the house but they can play in the driveway.)
"But, Mom, I would like to have just boys over for a sleepover play date.
(WTF?  God damn you Katy Perry--you are so dead to me!)
I am silent; my fingernails are close to drawing blood in my palms. I look at Laurel and calmly ask "Really?"  (Stay calm!)
"APRIL FOOL'S!!  I told you that I would get you!"

A mix of emotions run through me like Taco Bell.  I am impressed that she kept a straight face but also seemed to zero in on the exact sore spot that makes me talk to myself:  boys.  But regardless, I hate feeling like an idiot. (Laurel--I hope you like what I pack you for lunch tomorrow.)

It reminds me of the only time when I tried to pull a fast one on my mom.  In the mid-90's, when I was living alone in Boston, I called my mom on April 1st, to tell her that I was pregnant.  (I had no boyfriend and I think there were a couple of months where I would have had to appear on Maury Povich to figure out where the child support would come from.)   Before I could tell my mom that the joke was on her, she reaction was full of support, joy and patience.  I really thought she was going to go apeshit..but she didn't and because she didn't, I felt terrible letting her know that I was joking.  As I was thinking about this tonight after Laurel's freakin' funny joke, I just realized that my mom countered my joke with her own joke--her reaction of sheer joy and then my feeling like a jerk.

Such an amateur on my part....God, I hope to get that good.

As a post script to this story..a certain CCW was involved with Laurel's joke.  (Not going to get a lot of rest tonight, Ching, when you have to sleep with one eye open!)