Oh look, Ching looks like a hero and I look like a tree killer.

Happy Holidays from the Wangs!  There is nothing like the insanity of Christmas to truly appreciate a very quiet New Year.  The insanity included plenty of holiday faux pas that probably scarred my children right into 2013.

1.  That stupid elf burned me again.  I got up to December 23 without "Mike".  But he was found by the genius Nana of Maine.
Mom:  Jude, look what I found?  He was packed up right on the shelf.  How ironic...perhaps he could join us?
JCW:  Oh shit...Great...hope you are not looking for more drinky drink.
In the two days that I was supposed to "place" him, I forgot both times.  I also let Rachel hold him.
LAW:  "Mom, you're not letting Rachel hold him are you?"
JCW:  "Um, no..."  As I swat that creepy elf out of Rachel's hand.
RJW:  Now, crying...
LAW:  He isn't supposed to be touched...he is Magic...Magic Mike.
JCW:  This isn't Magic Mike...that's for sure.

2.  The facade of Santa Claus--really, Laurel?  You still believe?  Hasn't that little shit at school ruined for you yet?  If her friend didn't, I probably will.
JCW:  "Laurel, I am so glad you liked all the gifts you got.  Mom and Dad (mainly Mom) worked very hard picking them out and wrapping them."
LAW:  "I thought Santa brought some of my gifts."  Her eyes shifting left then right.
JCW:  "Oh...of course.  Yeah, that's what I meant."
LAW:  "I like how you and Santa use the same paper."
JCW:  "Yeah, we share...hey Laurel, want a cookie?"  Thanks Santa for letting me lie to my kid and them distract with sugar.

3.  Never take down a fake tree in front of your kids.  (My kids) acted like I was dismembering a body.  (First of all, the Wangs are a fake tree family.  Judge if you must...every season, I am saving a tree from being cut.  I couldn't even type that without rolling my eyes.  It is a fiscally responsible.  For three Christmases, we avoided paying $75 for a good, real tree by owning a tree that cost $250 back in 2010.  Christmas 2013, we will be in the black--Christmas joy for everyone!)  Laurel and Rachel know that the tree is kept in parts, in a box, in the basement.  But seeing me yank the top, middle and bottom really threw them for a loop like I was killing the tree.  I waited until Ching took them out for something fun so they didn't see me woman-handle the branches back into their upright position while at the same time jamming them in the box.  Oh look, Ching looks like a hero and I look like a tree killer.

Not a stellar job on my part...but it's done.  For those who felt like you conquered like the season like a champ, Laurel would like to let you know that only 359 days until Christmas 2013.

Sparse chest hair is exposed and I am kind of grossed out.

During the every evening event of changing clothes...this happened tonight:

CCW:  How was your day?  Probably pretty dead, right?
JCW:  Yeah, I guess.  It was kind of dead on the phones but I had work to do.  I was pretty busy.  And I have a headache.
CCW:  Well, something happened to me today.
(I look at Ching, trying not to have those skeptical, yelling eyes.  But I am focused on the zipper...the zipper on his pullover.  Recently Ching bought this grey pullover from Brooks Brothers...I was there when he purchased it.  I thought he would wear a t-shirt under the pullover.  He doesn't and the zipper seems to be very low.  Sparse chest hair is exposed and I am kind of grossed out.  I remind myself that this is why I drink.)
JCW:  What happened?
CCW:  Well I got a massage at that Asian place next to the place where you get your nails done....
(Wait a freakin' minute...First of all...I don't get my nails done.  I get pedicures every five weeks during the summer...that's it.  And are you kidding me?  A massage?  I thought you were working from home??)
CCW:  This brute of a Chinese woman came in and beat the shit out of me.
(I can't help but giggle at this.)
JCW:  Didn't you tell her to lighten up?
CCW:  Yeah..but she seemed to ignore it.  I asked her twice.
JCW:  Ching did you think about speaking Chinese to her?  You know, the other language that you supposedly know?  Don't you know the word for lighter?
CCW:  I thought I did.  I am very sore.  Really sore...
(Holy Christ on Crutches, are you kidding me?  Are you looking for sympathy?  You just told me that you weren't really working from home.  Got a massage as I was at work...really working and then, after work, shopped for stocking stuffers at Target and went to Trader Joe's for Christmas apps that I will pass off as homemade.)

Ching leaves the room, kind of limping.  I so need to stop by this spa and give this woman a big tip.

Pre-holiday meltdown...not me, but Laurel.

Oh, it's that time of year.  Christmas decorations up, holiday cards out and counting down the days until Holiday break.  This morning it happens...just like clock work.  Pre-holiday meltdown...not me, but Laurel.

I have seen this before.  The catalyst could be anything...soggy cereal, an outfit that isn't right or undies/socks that are wonky.   This morning it was a sewing project that she couldn't do on her own.  Laurel has trying to be so good.  (To get on the nice list.)  But she is also incredibly tired and needs a break from school.  The anticipation of the holiday is also stretching her to the limit.  And then this morning it happens:

JCW:  C'mon Laurel, we need to brush teeth and hair.
LAW:  I don't want to...and I can't do the sewing...
JCW:  (Stupidly ignoring her new sewing project) You know Laurel, Santa watches these moments...I really need cooperation.
LAW:  (Dissolving into tears...)  I just know I am on the naughty list.
JCW:  (Oh crap...)

Are you kidding me? I can't even leverage Santa? And then I cave...I, then, tell her that I know, guarantee that you are not on the naughty list.

Honestly, I try to smooth it over but Ching is doing drop off for both girls.  I did my duty...I made their lunches, outfits out, breakfast, etc.  I have to get to "a meeting."  Best of luck to you CCW.

Dude, how fun was that to be silly during a time when usually I am rushing, rushing, rushing and have a stick up my butt?

So last night opened my Pandora's box.  What do I want for Christmas?  Today, I made a list for Ching...some items are pipe dreams but some could be gifts in 2013.

1.  We need more "toilets in the cul-de-sac" moments!  Dude, how fun was that to be silly during a time when usually I am rushing, rushing, rushing and have a stick up my butt? (If you have no idea what I am talking about...please refer to post 12/14)  With the old pots out for trash pick up, I truly treasured seeing the girls laugh in our silliness.

2.  Laurel needs to agree to hot lunch.  I can't make the same lunch that I have been making everyday at 6 am since 2009.  I swear the school could get her to eat more food than I pack for her everyday.  (All those utensil-free foods---squeeze applesauce, squeeze yogurt, etc.  It's like she quits hand eye coordination at lunch.)

3.  I want all the clocks in the car smashed in. There is no reason for me to stare constantly at the clocks during the commute.  Christ...I don't get there any faster.  Tick, God damn, tick...

4.  Rachel!  Please, please, please...I can't take the diapers any longer.  I want her to go on the potty.  Her poops are killing me!  What does she eat?  I don't think I have a sense of smell anymore.  Perhaps this wish should have been number 2.

5.  Please give me serenity in the morning.  I don't know why I get so worked up during our morning routine.  We will get there...we always do.

6.  Lastly, I want you all to be safe all the time.  I never want to worry when all of you leave in the car (with you driving).  I never want to worry when I say good bye during drop off.  But I also don't want you to be too cautious.  Just a permanent, imaginary safety net as any of you jump off of any object without abandon (just like Rachel).

Too much to ask?

My London Fog that I purchased on Overstock.com suits me just fine

Recently, I saw an e-mail from Pamela to Ching. The e-mail was up, on the screen.  Pamela works with Ching.  She is his go to for gift giving advice.  While her suggestions are very nice and very pricey, they are not me The e-mail suggests getting me a Longchamp bag (no clue), a North Face rain coat (no, my London Fog that I purchased on Overstock.com suits me just fine) or Tory Burch flats (I have those and they are so uncomfortable).

I do approach Ching and tell him that I saw the e-mail.  Whatever--his mistake.  While he is exasperated that I am nixing his "ideas", I don't want it sitting in my closet unused.  (Like the Tory Burch make-up bag of 2011..assuming a suggestion from Pamela.)

CCW:  What would you like?
JCW:   I just want to update my clothes.  (Girls, my wardrobe sucks.  Ill fitting, old...one of my favorite wool suits is turning on me.  The waistband of the pants are steadily inching up to my boobs.  Yup, I am wearing mom-pants.)  Ching, just a line item (on the spreadsheet is just fine.)
CCW:  How am I supposed to wrap that under the tree?

He doesn't have to worry about gifts under the tree for me.  The gifts on Christmas Day are about the girls, not us.  I just want to be home, with my family sitting warmly around the tree.

The gifts are modest this year.  (Mainly) Laurel and Rachel didn't ask for much so I didn't offer more.  It is about the big bow...the big bow is easy on small gifts.  And my gift is watching them tear off the paper, demand batteries and squeal with delight.  Longchamp?  North Face?  Can't compare.

This one exposed a nerve and, with shame, turned me into an asshole.

Today I went to work, wearing one brown trouser sock and one black trouser sock.  (I didn't notice until I got home.)  I was told that my knowledge base (at the job that I am doing) ranks 7th on a team of seven.  I bought a panini in the cafeteria...half way in, I bit into a piece of plastic.  Focus!  I come home to my girls, healthy, happy and looking for another snack.

The tragedy that happened in Connecticut has affected more than I expected.  With embarrassment, I am numb to most school shootings.  This one exposed a nerve and, with shame, turned me into an asshole.  I am walking around sullen and closed off to anyone.  I also want to point blame.  But this solves absolutely nothing.

• No...I don't know what the shooter's mom went through prior to December 14th.  I shouldn't judge and point blame.
• No...I don't know of the personal hell that must have gone through the shooter's mind to carry this act out.
• Guns?  Not the sole issue but it is easy to place that blame and want to ban.

I have also been obsessed trying to get more information...reading facts and speculation.  Agitated, I try to find filler in People.com just to get more agitated by crap that doesn't matter at the moment.  (Kelly Clarkson got engaged.  Girl, after all those bitter boy songs you settle for a guy that gives you a ring that looks like it's from Liberace's estate collection? C'mon!)

I just want an answer.  But it will be a long time for any answers. Right now, I need to focus on six educators that remind me of past colleagues of my mom.  Each one of the 20 children look like a friend of Laurel.  I just hope they are in a good place.

I am blessed and I need to concentrate on that...even if one of the blessings, yells, "I pooped!" as we are about to sit down to dinner.

I don't want to answer her questions with "I don't know."

My intent of this entry is not to be "snarky".  I just wanted to share, as a mother, what I was thinking when I went to get Laurel on Friday afternoon...December, 14, 2012.

I can't even feel the steering wheel of my car.  I think I am a little light headed.  What am I supposed to tell Laurel?  God, I wish Ching was picking her up. 

(I wasn't intending on getting Laurel earlier than 5:30 but Rachel needed to go to the doctor, unexpectedly at 3:00.  Ching sent me an e-mail around noon,  wanting me to get Laurel right after the appointment because he wanted her close.  Prior to his e-mailed request, I had no idea what had happened in Connecticut.  As I read the initial reports, I was beyond devastated.  I knew of Sandy Hook--this community was incredibly similar to where my family lives now.  And, Connecticut...I consider Connecticut my third home, after my present state (MA) and my home state (ME).  Connecticut was a state I got my secondary education.  It was a time and a place that I would never trade.  And then the age of the children...so close to Laurel.)

How am I supposed to explain this to her?  Oh God, I hope she doesn't know all ready.  I will assume that she doesn't know.  "Laurel--some people are shitty.  It ranges for small stuff--you know those girls that don't want to include everyone?  Then there are those that are bat shit crazy where you don't know why they did what they did".

I don't want to answer her questions with "I don't know."  I don't want her to know that I never knew anything like this when I was her age.

The worse memory I had was at 8 when President Reagan was shot.  I remember thinking "Who is in charge?"  But other than that, it seemed okay.  As a child, I understood that the President was targeted because he was the President.  I wasn't (the President)...so I would be fine.  No one was out to get me.  But this young man went to an elementary school to shoot young kids.  I don't want Laurel to feel like a target.

She is startled by her shadow.  I don't want to tell her what happened in that school.  After I tell her, she will pee her pants before she will walk into the hallway alone to the school bathroom.  She will never sleep in her own bed.

I think I am getting blisters gripping the steering  wheel.  I will need to tell her.  I probably shouldn't use the word "shitty"

Post Script:  As of Saturday night, Laurel still doesn't know.  But we need to tell her because I don't want her to find out the partial truth on the playground.  Tonight we learned that the children who died were in the first grade.  I saw my husband cry for the first time.  I have never seen him cry.  Tonight, I look at Laurel and try to absorb who she is today because what we have to tell her tomorrow may change her a little bit.

I laugh, and at the same time, hope the neighbors aren't watching us.

It is odd to be grateful for two old toilets at the Wang family curb.  Recently we upgraded a couple of our toilets because the flush power was gone...and we are sick of using a plunger. We had to limit certain movements to certain toilets.  Oh God...I have a feeling that Laurel is scarred by my asking through the door, "Laurel--you aren't pooping in there are you?  That's the toilet where you pee only."  God, those therapy bills are going to suck.  I am going to be blamed for irritable bowel syndrome or something like that.

Last night, Ching and I carried the old toilets together to the curb for trash pick up.  It's amazing how heavy toilets are.  But the act of carrying a toilet, I am assuming, would make anyone giggle.  And we did.  It was nice (but, it stopped there).  I told Ching that I was going to take a picture of the toilets, post it on Facebook and title it "keeping it classy in the cul-de-sac!"
CCW:  I think the picture should be captioned with, "Are you shitting me?"
JCW:  Umm..okay.  I will think about that.  Dude, stick with the spreadsheet and I will stick with my snarky captions.
CCW:  Maybe you could take a picture of me sitting on one...in the thinking pose.
JCW:  Really?  Okay....Wow, you don't have to ask me twice.

The next morning was a typical rush of dressing, breakfast, hair and teeth brushed...but the twin toilets seem to give the morning a different mood.  At 7:35, we need to get into cars...Ching and Laurel in the blue one, Rachel and me in the black.  Typically, hustle, hustle...but we don't.  We take a picture.  The picture that I take is of Ching, sitting in that thinking position, on one of the thrones in full work attire.  I laugh, and at the same time, hope the neighbors aren't watching us.  Ching laughs and the girls do too. They immediately want to see the picture.  (Thank God for the instant gratification of digital cameras.)  This minute changed the tone of the whole morning and gave us a moment of levity.  Without waxing poetic, this is an ideal way that the day should be started.

So thank you, old toilets...while I appreciate you now, I hope to hell that the trash guys picked you up.  The Wangs don't want to be "that neighbor."

A person with experience, credibility and can do absolutely no wrong in Laurel's eyes...that's right I called my mommy for help.

Not only did I need lie to Laurel but I needed help with the lie.  I went to the best accomplice I knew.  A person with experience, credibility and can do absolutely no wrong in Laurel's eyes...that's right I called my mommy for help.

Last Tuesday, Laurel brought home what she called a pumpkin truffle.  She made it in her current Tuesday club, "Gingerbread houses".  She handed me this baggie (which looked like it contained smooshed crap).  Since she put this truffle in her backpack, it arrived home, flat as a pancake.  Laurel was insistent that it would taste the same but perhaps it may need more sugar sprinkled on it like it didn't have enough.  She, then, put the little baggie in the refrigerator.

She let it sit in the fridge for a few days.  Then, I couldn't take looking at it anymore.  I consider the fridge my domain.  Sure, it has food that everyone eats, but I stock it and clean it out.  I take pride in how the food is somewhat categorized shelf by shelf.  This baggie of pumpkin poo was ruining on my domain.  Quite frankly, I thought she forgot about it, so I tossed it.

The other night, she mentions that she is going to eat it the next night after dinner. Oh crap...pumpkin crap...now what am I going to do?  I go to the person who knows best...I go to my mom.  She seemed to understand the predicament right away and helped me jumped into a lie.  She told me to tell Laurel that the pumpkin went bad.  She said that it would be okay to say, "I asked Nana and she said that pumpkin is only good for two days.  After two days, it could make your stomach feel sick."  For good measure I added, "You remember feeling sick to your stomach a few months ago...remember that time you threw up on me?  Yeah, really gross."  That sealed the deal...she forgot about that truffle.

Now I need to figure out how to get rid of that sugar monstrosity that she calls a gingerbread house....

Since when is this God damn dinner a continental breakfast?

Have you ever been at work and just dreamed about a certain food?  (If not, just move on...and absolutely not, am I pregnant.)  This happened to me recently and I was obsessed about making the best split pea soup with ham.  I can't make it as a work day dinner...because the soup won't steep enough, so I had to wait for the weekend.  But the wait was well worth it.  During the week, I researched recipes and bought good ingredients.  (Not that spiral honey of a ham crap...just a good ham with a solid bone to make a good soup.)  I am going to make the best soup in the world.

I tell Ching what I am making for dinner on this Saturday.  While there are many a meal when I ask "what would you like" and he says "whatever", this dinner is different.  He is going to eat what I put in front of him.  This dinner is hot, homemade and delicious. (I also tell him that there will be salad and a crusty bread.)

While his dinner is served, our home is filled with aromatic goodness.  But then this happens:
L:  "Why is the soup green?"
C:  "It is called split pea soup."  His enthusiasm absolutely sucks
Laurel can't tell if we are making a gross green soup from a vegetable or using our own pee.  Whatever Laurel...obviously this is the vegetable.  Keep quiet and eat your bland spaghetti.

Then Rachel won't eat the ham.  She will eat pork chops, pork loin and spareribs, but no ham!  She just wants yogurt, fruit and that crusty bread thick with butter.  Since when is this God damn dinner a continental breakfast?

Now Laurel asks for a different fruit, the bread that Rachel has, and needs shaky cheese for her pasta.

(Oh crap...drinks!  Of course not real ones...Laurel gets juice (a veggie fruit blend) and Rachel wants milk.  I toss some ice in a glass for Ching and that 2 liter bottle of Fresca.)

I look over and Ching is INHALING his salad and not in the good way.  He is eating so fast, trying to avoid both the taste and actually having the lettuce touch his lips.

Oh God...the girls want more fruit.  I have to barter with Laurel to eat more pasta prior to more fruit.  Rachel still won't eat the ham.

JCW:  Ching, how is the soup?
CCW:  It's good.  I wasn't looking for "good".  Next, the salad will be "nice".
JCW:  And the salad?
CCW:  Jude...I finished my salad.

Laurel wants to be excused. I have to coerce her to eat more food.
Rachel, following her sister, wants to be excused.
Ching is done...he will take the girls.

And I sit down to enjoy my soup...the soup I have waited all week to eat.  It tastes great and the vegetables are perfectly cooked.  Perhaps it's needs more pepper but the best ingredient is that I am eating my soup in peace...the best ingredient of all...and a glass of wine.

(This is my blog's birthday---1 year.  I will write more later about that.  Thank you for reading.)

Dude, we are so celebrating Ching's heritage by ordering Chinese on Christmas Eve.

I have 19 days left.  I need to stretch it to the fullest...gifts, wrapping, cards, Christmas dinner, guests...Dude, we are so celebrating Ching's heritage by ordering Chinese on Christmas Eve.  We (Actually just me) are not entertaining on 12/24.  I may need a break...and a drink.

While I am trying to stretch the days, Laurel is trying to speed up the same 19 days.  Everyday she will ask how many more days until Christmas?  She just wants the time to pass quickly...as I just want Amazon to ship a hell of a lot faster.

I am trying to remember a time when I didn't want to rush through the tasks until Christmas.  The time of reflecting on what is joyous has been blurred with entertaining and making sure that I spend the same amount on each girl.

This morning I got an e-mail from someone very dear asking, "Does Ching think that the gifts, cards, stockings, gifts for teachers just come out of no where?"  Yes, this is my role.  This weekend, I will have to show Ching all the gifts we got the girls so this awkward exchange doesn't happen:
LAW:  Daddy, look what I got!
CCW:  Laurel, that's great!  Who did you get that from?
LAW:  You and Mommy.

(Yeah...Father of the Year award right next to my Mother of the Year award.)

Maybe I am just pissy because one of our twin lit reindeer--Donner and Blitzen, was laying on his side, on the lawn.  I am guessing it was Blitzen....

Christmas joy to be continued....

There are scissors in her right hand too...cookies on the left, scissors on the right.

With all the snark and obscenities that I proudly stand behind, I do believe in rules.  This is the fine line that I think makes me look normal, content...well-balanced, (even if I am snarky under my breath.)  But this morning, I was God damn busted!

My primary reason was to keep the morning pace going and to keep Rachel calm.  Okay...let's reel this mother of a story in and start from the beginning.

First of all, in the morning, Rachel will not each breakfast.  She will get changed, dressed like a dream and drink milk.  While I am finishing up my routine, she is captivated by Diego, quiet as a mouse.  But she will not eat any food!  I have tried everything..waffles, pancakes (you know it...Eggo), cereal, fruit, yogurt...nothing.  Until we are about to get into that car seat.  Rachel will then hold me captive with this kid dialogue:
JCW:  "Okay, let's get in the car seat.  Click..you know click, click, take a pic."
RJW:  "No click...pretzels."
JCW:  (This isn't a god damn bar....maybe peanuts, next?)  "We can click (take a pic) if I get pretzels?"
RJW: "Yes"..(because you are my bitch.)

So I get the pretzels to get her into the car seat.  Not only has this doubled as her breakfast but the pretzels have progressed to pita chips, Goldfish and...to cookies.

But here is the problem.  When we get to school, she will not give up the snack.  She insists on eating it in the classroom...this has gone over for several days when I know it is against the rule.  I laugh it off as Rachel, being Rachel, hoping the next morning will be different.

Yesterday, when I was at home, an e-mail went to the parents.  My e-mail went to my work address.  "Please don't have your child bring a morning snack.  While they are running around (with the snack), it poses a choking hazard.  There also is an allergy issue." (Oh nuts...literally and figuratively...)

Freak me...I didn't see the e-mail because I took the day off.
1.  Rachel has cookies at 8:00.  My justification is that this is just like a donut or sugary cereal.
2.  They are small and of, course, she is running.  (There are scissors in her right hand too...cookies on the left, scissors on the right.)
3.  (And this is the kicker..)  The cookies are Pecan Sandies...nuts, nuts everywhere.  Epi Pens ready to go.

I ripped the cookies out of her hand...Girl, it's time to go cold turkey.  Let me know how it goes...perhaps you could give me some pointers.