Ah..with the holidays come that annoying sentimentality that leads to one thing...the tugging of my ovaries. Of course, it's not me that has the pull for another child, it's the other Wangs. Right, I pluralized it--I am being double teamed...by Ching AND Rachel. (Laurel is just staying focused with being the best kid for that elf.) Why does this happen? Let's get it together, people....
Today Ching held a baby girl at some sort of work holiday party. He told me how cute she was and the mom took a picture of the cuteness. Ching hasn't received the picture yet; He is afraid the mom got his number wrong. He has all ready forgotten how hectic the evening is with a baby. Like this mom's making a priority of sending this picture to Ching as she is trying to feed, bathe, settle down and get her daughter to sleep. A picture that reminds Ching how cute a young baby can be. But he also needs to be reminded that a baby is even cuter when they are handed back to it's mother. I must have a heart of stone because I have never seen a baby that gives me the urge to have another. I could be looking at the sweetest baby Jesus swaddled in baby Gucci and I would probably notice the Gucci first.
Then there is Rachel and this recent parent teacher conference incident:
YPT (Younger Preschool Teacher): "Rachel told the class some very good news yesterday."
JCW: I say nothing...I am skeptical.
YPT: "She said that she is going to be a big sister."
JCW: Oh Christ... "Did she try to switch roles--say that Laurel was the little sister and now Rachel is the big sister?" I know the answer. I also hate the look of glee in the teachers' eyes like they are going to get another five years of daycare/pre-school tuition for the possible baby #3.
YPT: "I thought that too but Rachel said that both she and Laurel would be big sisters. I then asked where the baby was. She said the baby was in your belly."
JCW: "Yeah...first of all, that is not happening...ever." And I never told Laurel the baby was in my belly--so incorrect. Laurel's favorite word was uterus when I was pregnant with Rachel. "Secondly, Rachel has expressed that her friends are becoming big sisters. She would like a baby too...And do you think I would make Rachel the middle child?"
If this is a ploy to get a puppy at the holidays, I am leaving...for a long time.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Next year, I picture Rachel coming downstairs on Christmas morning screaming, "Where's my loot?" because she is classy like that.
This is the two year anniversary (birth?) of my blog--thank you for reading. I haven't been as attentive to it as I should be...believe me, I have still have plenty to say just not a lot of time these days. I can't explain why I am so busy. I have been more present with my girls...while that means less time in front of the computer, it does mean that I am just gathering more subject matter.
So this elf thing....still don't like it. Again, the Wang's elf is Mike. I was purposely late to the game and just started "Mike's watch" this past weekend--I am on Day 5 of situating him prior to going to bed so the girls wake up to see where and how Mike is waiting for them. Out of five days, I have woken up during 3 nights realizing that I forgot to take care of that little red shit. As soon as my alarm goes off, I jet downstairs to make sure Mike is in a new spot. God, the pressure is killing me and I just started! Some people started prior to Thanksgiving.
Interestingly, Rachel, the youngest, isn't interested. She could care less--I think this is Rachel's last year believing in Santa. Next year, I picture Rachel coming downstairs on Christmas morning screaming, "Where's my loot?" because she is classy like that.
Laurel needs to see where Mike is ...Laurel loves the surprise and truly believes in the fat man in red. We have another few years of this. But with this belief, the pressure is on--me, just me. Ching has never touched Mike. And that's another thing, Laurel flips out if anyone touches him--it hurts his magic. I do respect her rule of that little stalker can't land upstairs when she is sleeping. So Mike is relegated to the first floor or basement.
But then I have found the pressure causes the issue of "Elf Envy" I hear about all of the precarious situations that her friends' elves has gotten into. What if my "Mike situations" aren't cool or creative?
LAW: "You know Mackenzie got a gift from her elf."
JCW: "Yeah, on Christmas. You will too."
LAW: "No, she got it yesterday."
JCW: "Elves don't bring appetizer gifts up to the big day."
LAW: "It was just a key chain."
JCW: "Does she have a car too?"
(Sensing my pissiness, Laurel dropped the gift idea.)
For me the sole purpose of the elf was leverage. Mike was going to watch over my girls to make sure they are good until December 25th. There are no gifts given prior to this and the situations stress goodness and "kiss assery". Mike does homework, cleans up and appreciates focus--you know, the Wang way. You will not find our elf driving the Barbie vette, with Barbie riding shotgun, topless. Or writing on a wall with a crayon. Or leaving a trail of chocolate chips like he just poo'ed across the living room. (Jesus Christ, this would be the only time that Rachel would be interested and I just got her to poo on the potty 5 months ago.)
So, as a parent, if I don't convey discipline, I have Barbie sized elf dressed in felt to do my work. Yeah, I feel pretty much demoted for the next 14 days.
So this elf thing....still don't like it. Again, the Wang's elf is Mike. I was purposely late to the game and just started "Mike's watch" this past weekend--I am on Day 5 of situating him prior to going to bed so the girls wake up to see where and how Mike is waiting for them. Out of five days, I have woken up during 3 nights realizing that I forgot to take care of that little red shit. As soon as my alarm goes off, I jet downstairs to make sure Mike is in a new spot. God, the pressure is killing me and I just started! Some people started prior to Thanksgiving.
Interestingly, Rachel, the youngest, isn't interested. She could care less--I think this is Rachel's last year believing in Santa. Next year, I picture Rachel coming downstairs on Christmas morning screaming, "Where's my loot?" because she is classy like that.
Laurel needs to see where Mike is ...Laurel loves the surprise and truly believes in the fat man in red. We have another few years of this. But with this belief, the pressure is on--me, just me. Ching has never touched Mike. And that's another thing, Laurel flips out if anyone touches him--it hurts his magic. I do respect her rule of that little stalker can't land upstairs when she is sleeping. So Mike is relegated to the first floor or basement.
But then I have found the pressure causes the issue of "Elf Envy" I hear about all of the precarious situations that her friends' elves has gotten into. What if my "Mike situations" aren't cool or creative?
LAW: "You know Mackenzie got a gift from her elf."
JCW: "Yeah, on Christmas. You will too."
LAW: "No, she got it yesterday."
JCW: "Elves don't bring appetizer gifts up to the big day."
LAW: "It was just a key chain."
JCW: "Does she have a car too?"
(Sensing my pissiness, Laurel dropped the gift idea.)
For me the sole purpose of the elf was leverage. Mike was going to watch over my girls to make sure they are good until December 25th. There are no gifts given prior to this and the situations stress goodness and "kiss assery". Mike does homework, cleans up and appreciates focus--you know, the Wang way. You will not find our elf driving the Barbie vette, with Barbie riding shotgun, topless. Or writing on a wall with a crayon. Or leaving a trail of chocolate chips like he just poo'ed across the living room. (Jesus Christ, this would be the only time that Rachel would be interested and I just got her to poo on the potty 5 months ago.)
So, as a parent, if I don't convey discipline, I have Barbie sized elf dressed in felt to do my work. Yeah, I feel pretty much demoted for the next 14 days.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Make note to self--remind Laurel that her hair is long and it's easy to be pulled. I can see it in Rachel's eyes. She is a grabber.
Oh jeez, it seems to have started in full force this weekend. The girls are at each other like cats. Back and forth--playing separately or nicely one minute and then the next, all hell is breaking loose. Soon I will have to hide the Vaseline supply to make sure they are not rubbing it on their face anticipating a real cat fight. (Make note to self--remind Laurel that her hair is long and it's easy to be pulled. I can see it in Rachel's eyes. She is a grabber.)
Usually they have played together quite well or on their own. But now, I am not sure if it's that Laurel wants more space. Her things can't be touched. And of course Rachel doesn't understand this.
Rachel is marking her territory; making sure that her age and size don't hinder her. She is also more verbal--any injustice, she speaks her mind and then gets in my face. I can hear squabbles in the next room and then those little feet, stomping to me looking for justice. Meanwhile, I am trying to get to the bathroom because it's the only room with a lock.
Today this is what I heard:
1. A squabble on who gets to play with a the magic wand. It's a piece of pink plastic--I think it used to hold up a doll. My girls have hundreds of dollars of toys and electronics and they play with this? Perhaps for Christmas, I should give out empty shoe boxes.
2. With the magic wand, Laurel has turned Rachel into a worm. And Laurel refuses to reverse the spell.
3. Rachel comes to me complaining that she is a worm and pouting that I needed to do something. While I show her that she has arms and legs, she is insistent that she is a worm.
I, then, go into the family room, take away the wand and tell Laurel to turn Rachel into a girl rather than a worm. And this instance only covered 10 minutes and was one squabble of several.
(Young, childless co-workers are going to ask me about my weekend and I will not be able to convey the wand/worm situation with justice.)
Since it's the holidays, I am digging through the Christmas stuff and finding my new best friend, Mike, the Wang Elf on a Shelf. Last year my nemesis, this year, my new best friend. He will help me. I have Mike, but I might hide the china too. She is young, but I can see Rachel chucking a good plate at Laurel.
Usually they have played together quite well or on their own. But now, I am not sure if it's that Laurel wants more space. Her things can't be touched. And of course Rachel doesn't understand this.
Rachel is marking her territory; making sure that her age and size don't hinder her. She is also more verbal--any injustice, she speaks her mind and then gets in my face. I can hear squabbles in the next room and then those little feet, stomping to me looking for justice. Meanwhile, I am trying to get to the bathroom because it's the only room with a lock.
Today this is what I heard:
1. A squabble on who gets to play with a the magic wand. It's a piece of pink plastic--I think it used to hold up a doll. My girls have hundreds of dollars of toys and electronics and they play with this? Perhaps for Christmas, I should give out empty shoe boxes.
2. With the magic wand, Laurel has turned Rachel into a worm. And Laurel refuses to reverse the spell.
3. Rachel comes to me complaining that she is a worm and pouting that I needed to do something. While I show her that she has arms and legs, she is insistent that she is a worm.
I, then, go into the family room, take away the wand and tell Laurel to turn Rachel into a girl rather than a worm. And this instance only covered 10 minutes and was one squabble of several.
(Young, childless co-workers are going to ask me about my weekend and I will not be able to convey the wand/worm situation with justice.)
Since it's the holidays, I am digging through the Christmas stuff and finding my new best friend, Mike, the Wang Elf on a Shelf. Last year my nemesis, this year, my new best friend. He will help me. I have Mike, but I might hide the china too. She is young, but I can see Rachel chucking a good plate at Laurel.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
That's what you are eating for Thanksgiving dinner?
When I was a kid, I grew up eating that traditional Thanksgiving meal of turkey, stuffing and every root vegetable boiled or mashed to the point of having no nutritional value. If I didn't like the taste after I tried it, I either used a dollop of butter or a stream of gravy to disguise the taste. But I ate it as did every kid back then...you ate what was put in front of you or you didn't eat.
Today my Thanksgiving is different. My mother is the constant host and (as one of my many thanks) has graduated from boiling and mashing every root vegetable to death. Along with the turkey and fancy stuffing, there are brussels (much to Ching's chagrin) and salad, lightly dressed. Potatoes are still there along with the boiled onions and squash. So as I say yay at the spread, I look over at the mini Wangs at the kids table and this is what I see:
Laurel has a minuscule amount of turkey with a big mound of ketchup, a mountain of cranberry sauce (I am waiting for her to slip and call it Jello) and a buttered roll (which will be the first of three.)
Rachel has a minuscule amount of turkey, her cranberry "jello" and a buttered roll.
That's what you are eating for Thanksgiving dinner?
Selfishly, I am not worried about their nutritional intake. I am actually self conscious of my elders watching my parental ability. These are the same elders that kept me at the dinner table eating a mound of baked beans until I was done. (Probably only four bites but as a young kid, it was a mound.) The same ones that served me a frozen apple juice pop as the only sweet that was allowed. Elders eating organic before it was trendy. And now here I am letting my girls fill up on cheese and crackers prior to dinner and now at dinner, they are eating ketchup, cranberry jello and rolls. (Another thanks--Laurel is still really tall and Rachel has powerful thighs--these girls look like they eat just fine on most days.)
I hope they realize my limitations. I look over at Ching Wang as he is rolling his brussels around his plate like they are going to disappear.
Today my Thanksgiving is different. My mother is the constant host and (as one of my many thanks) has graduated from boiling and mashing every root vegetable to death. Along with the turkey and fancy stuffing, there are brussels (much to Ching's chagrin) and salad, lightly dressed. Potatoes are still there along with the boiled onions and squash. So as I say yay at the spread, I look over at the mini Wangs at the kids table and this is what I see:
Laurel has a minuscule amount of turkey with a big mound of ketchup, a mountain of cranberry sauce (I am waiting for her to slip and call it Jello) and a buttered roll (which will be the first of three.)
Rachel has a minuscule amount of turkey, her cranberry "jello" and a buttered roll.
That's what you are eating for Thanksgiving dinner?
Selfishly, I am not worried about their nutritional intake. I am actually self conscious of my elders watching my parental ability. These are the same elders that kept me at the dinner table eating a mound of baked beans until I was done. (Probably only four bites but as a young kid, it was a mound.) The same ones that served me a frozen apple juice pop as the only sweet that was allowed. Elders eating organic before it was trendy. And now here I am letting my girls fill up on cheese and crackers prior to dinner and now at dinner, they are eating ketchup, cranberry jello and rolls. (Another thanks--Laurel is still really tall and Rachel has powerful thighs--these girls look like they eat just fine on most days.)
I hope they realize my limitations. I look over at Ching Wang as he is rolling his brussels around his plate like they are going to disappear.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
I just need to remember this isn't just about November but everyday.
Over the past month, I have noticed daily "thankful" posts by several on Facebook. This got me to think about what I am an thankful for in my life. These are in no order of importance. I am glad that I didn't join the trend of posting one thankful per day because having the list of 30 in front of me perhaps gave me a little more to be thankful for today. I just need to remember this isn't just about November but everyday.
I am thankful...
1. I found my strong this year: While I have gone to the gym in the past, this was the first year that I truly challenged myself with different activities. Some I liked (Barre and TRX) and some, while I tried, I didn't like (Kickboxing). Making time for the gym is not easy. I go to the gym at lunch--this is the only dedicated hour to JCW. It is either get my ass out of my desk seat and do it or "claim" that I am busy while I eat my lunch at my desk surfing the internet for the latest gossipy crap. Some days it is a challenge to motivate myself but every time that I do, I am glad I did.
2. (And on that note), Lululemon clothes: Judge if you will, but I have learned to love these overpriced workout clothes. (Yes, the owner of the company seems like a douche canoe--but I am not dating him.) They fit like a glove, no camel toe, no gaping and no chaffing. And I look amazeballs and feel cool. I have also found that if you hit their sale section on their website, the clothes are quite reasonable. Especially if you factor in that they are made well and, miraculously, don't hold my beastly stink I actually have more wear out of them.
3. The Wang Family spreadsheet: While I treat myself with nice things every now and then, I never stray from the budget that is on the spreadsheet. The spreadsheet isn't magic--it doesn't stalk me in a store, knocking my Amex out of my hand before I make a stupid purchase. This is a guide for Ching and me to stay fiscally responsible for our family. I would also like to think that my girls will notice our responsibility.
4. Knowing the difference between your and you're: Holy Christ, this bugs the crap out of me. Where were people during 9th grade English class when this was taught? "Your" means personal ownership while "you're" means you are. So simple!
5. I can't take a selfie: I can't take a self portrait with my phone to save my life. Let me back up, I can but I end up looking like the reflection in one of those Christmas ornament balls. Thankfully this prevents me from posting selfies..selfies of desperation on Facebook...
6. I am sober as a judge: Not just as I write this but for almost a year, I haven't had any of the drinky drink. This was something that I had to do for some time and finally I have done it and work quite hard at it. Amazingly, without drinking, my life did not stop. I still have my funny, I take personal pride in my appearance and I feel more content. And I actually like Mr Ching Wang more than I thought...where the hell did that come from?
7. Prayer (Yes, Anelle, I pray!): When I was younger, I prayed for the boy to call or a good grade on an exam. Usually this have very meager results and I didn't really pray anymore. But now, rather than asking, I may just give thanks to a higher power (mine looks like Bryan Cranston) for another successful day or I ask him to remind me to be kind. And holy shit, this seems to work too.
8. Laurel: She is so sensitive and inclusive that I am very proud but also worried that she will easily get hurt. She takes risks and is very smart and funny. Her love of Katy Perry music bugs the piss out of me but she is a joy--absolute joy.
9. Rachel: Rachel has taught me that I am not as cold as I tend to think I am when it comes to physical affection. This kid would "cuddle cuddle" for hours if she could. Sometimes, in the middle of the night when she demands to "cuddle cuddle" in a low husky voice, I swear it sounds like she is saying "I am going to cut you" but I am sure it is "cuddle cuddle".
10. Ching: I have been with Ching for 14 years. At the beginning, I had no idea how good he would be with the girls; how ambitious he would be to provide for his family and how supportive he would be of me. Of course, I knew about his noxious dutch oven capabilities and his pissiness when the Hurricanes have a terrible game. But the good outweighs the bad.
11. Friends: I am okay to say that I have only a few friends. I have several acquaintances but only a small circle of friends that I can share my stuff. They are friends that I can lose touch for a little bit of time but then pick up the friendship like no time had passed. I also tend to act weird and if they asked for a hug I would hug them.
12. Not being fearful of food: I am glad that I am not afraid of trying food. That limits so much when you turn your nose up to something new. (Laurel--I am talking to you.) As I get older, I also understand that there are better foods that I should eat. What digested easily at 22 doesn't at 41. And when all else fails, color, eat lots of color.
13. Sense of Humor : I was raised with the notion that having a good sense of humor is a form of intelligence. And I am super smart as I chuckle to myself as Rachel laughs at Macklemore's Thriftshop. She specifically likes the line when he is talking about walking into the club with a big...and then a chicken clucks. "Mommy why does he have a chicken?" Yeah, JCW, just laugh...it's either listen to this or Laurel talking about her latest boy crush.
14. Eli Lilly: Quite simply EL keeps me from rocking back in forth in the fetal position...and that would be very embarrassing if I was at work. Thanks EL.
15. Gift of Education: Currently I am furiously saving for L+R's college education. I do it willingly because I was always given the impression from my own mother that an education wasn't a burden. As I listen to young people complain about the college loans that they are currently re-paying, I want to remind them that they were able to attend a college.
16. Low Maintenance Hair: My hair is all one length, a little past my shoulders. I get it cut (and now highlighted) quarterly. I wash it twice a week and re-straighten everyday. I spend very little time and I think it looks okay. Yay...
17. My Mom: I call my mom everyday when I am at work. I like to know that she is okay--I have seen way too many of those "Help, I have fallen and can't get up" commercials. We check in with each other on snarky things in the news or Facebook. Currently, she is teaching me a very good lesson about health care. If you aren't feeling well, it's up to you to nip it when it starts and prevent it from getting worse. Rather than doing nothing, something getting worse and then expecting a doctor to perform a miracle.
18. Newton: I really like where the Wangs live. Our city is considered large but we live in a part, or village that makes it small. The schools are good and the after school program is great. We live close enough to the city so I don't feel like I am in the boonies AND I don't spend half my life commuting to work.
19.Working outside the home: I will admit I work for a paycheck but I also work to show my girls the importance of work. If I didn't work, I am not sure what I would do--I need to make the contribution to the checking account, I need the socialization and God damn it, I need also need to be around people that don't negotiate about snacks and juice boxes.
20. I am healthy: I am healthy--it's as simple as that but I work at it constantly.
21. Strength against the dog request: God help me, I have not caved at the constant demand of getting a dog. I know several families that have and love their dogs but we are not going to be one of those families. There are too many things going on to throw a dog in the mix. While the vote is still 3 to 1, pro dog--I am still the dominating vote. And I am still staying strong. Also the thought of putting a plastic bag over my hand to pick up a big steaming pile really turns my stomach. I just got Rachel out of diapers...
22. Regretting my tattoo: When I was 21, I got a tattoo on my right hip. Would I do it again...absolutely not. I knew my body was going to be different but at 21, I couldn't see the flabbiness of my future. The shape of the tattoo is a little off and it tends to disappear when I sit down on the toilet. I am glad I regret it because it prevents me from doing it again. Also I have proof that I can show the girls when they are insistent on getting one.
23. Health of my girls: I have had to take very few sick days with the girls. They are healthy and happy. This is something that I should remind myself more frequently.
24. Sunblock and Embracing the Pale: A few days ago, I started to highlight my hair to camouflage some stray tinsel like grays. But as I look in the mirror, I am glad that I embraced my pale skin and came to the conclusion that I don't tan. I started to wear sunblock on my face at 16. Even as my hair has started to be processed, at least my face doesn't look like an old shoe.
25. CCW is a legs and ass man: Thank God--I can do Barre and run and my legs and ass while be toned to the hilt but I can do thousands push ups, my boobs will never get bigger...and that brings me to...
26. Breastfeeding: Odd but I am still grateful that I breastfed my kids--for several reasons but one that I think of frequently especially when I see famous people get this monstrous cantaloupes implanted on their chest. Breastfeeding gave me a chance to try out boobs--I didn't like them. I didn't like having hard time finding a nice fitted shirt. I didn't like the weight and I certainly didn't like having to specifically lift each one up and wash underneath. My boobs are flabby and wonky but at least they are small.
27. Memory: I am still blessed with an odd memory of certain long term details. This comes in handy when I want to impress Rachel by knowing all the lyrics of the theme song to Mr Roger's Neighborhood.
28. Breaking Bad: I know I have praised this show a lot but it was very good. I was raised on television. Recently there hasn't been a lot on that has been very good like reality crap, stupid sitcoms or shows that have jumped the shark years ago. Breaking Bad was a show that put my faith back into television. This was a show that was creative from start to appropriate finish. The story didn't finish with a tired out whimper but a bang. But now my standards are higher...who is going to be my next Walter White?
29. Facebook: I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. Most days I am annoyed by posts that are in all caps. I don't like pictures of food or selfies especially when the subject needs to brush their teeth. There are believes that I don't agree with but with all that I need to remember that I am also connected with people that I wouldn't necessarily be in regular contact with. Facebook also connects me with old friends--that's the love part of the relationship.
30. This was a fast list--I am lucky I have more to say. But I will keep it at 30.
Happy Thanksgiving!
I am thankful...
1. I found my strong this year: While I have gone to the gym in the past, this was the first year that I truly challenged myself with different activities. Some I liked (Barre and TRX) and some, while I tried, I didn't like (Kickboxing). Making time for the gym is not easy. I go to the gym at lunch--this is the only dedicated hour to JCW. It is either get my ass out of my desk seat and do it or "claim" that I am busy while I eat my lunch at my desk surfing the internet for the latest gossipy crap. Some days it is a challenge to motivate myself but every time that I do, I am glad I did.
2. (And on that note), Lululemon clothes: Judge if you will, but I have learned to love these overpriced workout clothes. (Yes, the owner of the company seems like a douche canoe--but I am not dating him.) They fit like a glove, no camel toe, no gaping and no chaffing. And I look amazeballs and feel cool. I have also found that if you hit their sale section on their website, the clothes are quite reasonable. Especially if you factor in that they are made well and, miraculously, don't hold my beastly stink I actually have more wear out of them.
3. The Wang Family spreadsheet: While I treat myself with nice things every now and then, I never stray from the budget that is on the spreadsheet. The spreadsheet isn't magic--it doesn't stalk me in a store, knocking my Amex out of my hand before I make a stupid purchase. This is a guide for Ching and me to stay fiscally responsible for our family. I would also like to think that my girls will notice our responsibility.
4. Knowing the difference between your and you're: Holy Christ, this bugs the crap out of me. Where were people during 9th grade English class when this was taught? "Your" means personal ownership while "you're" means you are. So simple!
5. I can't take a selfie: I can't take a self portrait with my phone to save my life. Let me back up, I can but I end up looking like the reflection in one of those Christmas ornament balls. Thankfully this prevents me from posting selfies..selfies of desperation on Facebook...
6. I am sober as a judge: Not just as I write this but for almost a year, I haven't had any of the drinky drink. This was something that I had to do for some time and finally I have done it and work quite hard at it. Amazingly, without drinking, my life did not stop. I still have my funny, I take personal pride in my appearance and I feel more content. And I actually like Mr Ching Wang more than I thought...where the hell did that come from?
7. Prayer (Yes, Anelle, I pray!): When I was younger, I prayed for the boy to call or a good grade on an exam. Usually this have very meager results and I didn't really pray anymore. But now, rather than asking, I may just give thanks to a higher power (mine looks like Bryan Cranston) for another successful day or I ask him to remind me to be kind. And holy shit, this seems to work too.
8. Laurel: She is so sensitive and inclusive that I am very proud but also worried that she will easily get hurt. She takes risks and is very smart and funny. Her love of Katy Perry music bugs the piss out of me but she is a joy--absolute joy.
9. Rachel: Rachel has taught me that I am not as cold as I tend to think I am when it comes to physical affection. This kid would "cuddle cuddle" for hours if she could. Sometimes, in the middle of the night when she demands to "cuddle cuddle" in a low husky voice, I swear it sounds like she is saying "I am going to cut you" but I am sure it is "cuddle cuddle".
10. Ching: I have been with Ching for 14 years. At the beginning, I had no idea how good he would be with the girls; how ambitious he would be to provide for his family and how supportive he would be of me. Of course, I knew about his noxious dutch oven capabilities and his pissiness when the Hurricanes have a terrible game. But the good outweighs the bad.
11. Friends: I am okay to say that I have only a few friends. I have several acquaintances but only a small circle of friends that I can share my stuff. They are friends that I can lose touch for a little bit of time but then pick up the friendship like no time had passed. I also tend to act weird and if they asked for a hug I would hug them.
12. Not being fearful of food: I am glad that I am not afraid of trying food. That limits so much when you turn your nose up to something new. (Laurel--I am talking to you.) As I get older, I also understand that there are better foods that I should eat. What digested easily at 22 doesn't at 41. And when all else fails, color, eat lots of color.
13. Sense of Humor : I was raised with the notion that having a good sense of humor is a form of intelligence. And I am super smart as I chuckle to myself as Rachel laughs at Macklemore's Thriftshop. She specifically likes the line when he is talking about walking into the club with a big...and then a chicken clucks. "Mommy why does he have a chicken?" Yeah, JCW, just laugh...it's either listen to this or Laurel talking about her latest boy crush.
14. Eli Lilly: Quite simply EL keeps me from rocking back in forth in the fetal position...and that would be very embarrassing if I was at work. Thanks EL.
15. Gift of Education: Currently I am furiously saving for L+R's college education. I do it willingly because I was always given the impression from my own mother that an education wasn't a burden. As I listen to young people complain about the college loans that they are currently re-paying, I want to remind them that they were able to attend a college.
16. Low Maintenance Hair: My hair is all one length, a little past my shoulders. I get it cut (and now highlighted) quarterly. I wash it twice a week and re-straighten everyday. I spend very little time and I think it looks okay. Yay...
17. My Mom: I call my mom everyday when I am at work. I like to know that she is okay--I have seen way too many of those "Help, I have fallen and can't get up" commercials. We check in with each other on snarky things in the news or Facebook. Currently, she is teaching me a very good lesson about health care. If you aren't feeling well, it's up to you to nip it when it starts and prevent it from getting worse. Rather than doing nothing, something getting worse and then expecting a doctor to perform a miracle.
18. Newton: I really like where the Wangs live. Our city is considered large but we live in a part, or village that makes it small. The schools are good and the after school program is great. We live close enough to the city so I don't feel like I am in the boonies AND I don't spend half my life commuting to work.
19.Working outside the home: I will admit I work for a paycheck but I also work to show my girls the importance of work. If I didn't work, I am not sure what I would do--I need to make the contribution to the checking account, I need the socialization and God damn it, I need also need to be around people that don't negotiate about snacks and juice boxes.
20. I am healthy: I am healthy--it's as simple as that but I work at it constantly.
21. Strength against the dog request: God help me, I have not caved at the constant demand of getting a dog. I know several families that have and love their dogs but we are not going to be one of those families. There are too many things going on to throw a dog in the mix. While the vote is still 3 to 1, pro dog--I am still the dominating vote. And I am still staying strong. Also the thought of putting a plastic bag over my hand to pick up a big steaming pile really turns my stomach. I just got Rachel out of diapers...
22. Regretting my tattoo: When I was 21, I got a tattoo on my right hip. Would I do it again...absolutely not. I knew my body was going to be different but at 21, I couldn't see the flabbiness of my future. The shape of the tattoo is a little off and it tends to disappear when I sit down on the toilet. I am glad I regret it because it prevents me from doing it again. Also I have proof that I can show the girls when they are insistent on getting one.
23. Health of my girls: I have had to take very few sick days with the girls. They are healthy and happy. This is something that I should remind myself more frequently.
24. Sunblock and Embracing the Pale: A few days ago, I started to highlight my hair to camouflage some stray tinsel like grays. But as I look in the mirror, I am glad that I embraced my pale skin and came to the conclusion that I don't tan. I started to wear sunblock on my face at 16. Even as my hair has started to be processed, at least my face doesn't look like an old shoe.
25. CCW is a legs and ass man: Thank God--I can do Barre and run and my legs and ass while be toned to the hilt but I can do thousands push ups, my boobs will never get bigger...and that brings me to...
26. Breastfeeding: Odd but I am still grateful that I breastfed my kids--for several reasons but one that I think of frequently especially when I see famous people get this monstrous cantaloupes implanted on their chest. Breastfeeding gave me a chance to try out boobs--I didn't like them. I didn't like having hard time finding a nice fitted shirt. I didn't like the weight and I certainly didn't like having to specifically lift each one up and wash underneath. My boobs are flabby and wonky but at least they are small.
27. Memory: I am still blessed with an odd memory of certain long term details. This comes in handy when I want to impress Rachel by knowing all the lyrics of the theme song to Mr Roger's Neighborhood.
28. Breaking Bad: I know I have praised this show a lot but it was very good. I was raised on television. Recently there hasn't been a lot on that has been very good like reality crap, stupid sitcoms or shows that have jumped the shark years ago. Breaking Bad was a show that put my faith back into television. This was a show that was creative from start to appropriate finish. The story didn't finish with a tired out whimper but a bang. But now my standards are higher...who is going to be my next Walter White?
29. Facebook: I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. Most days I am annoyed by posts that are in all caps. I don't like pictures of food or selfies especially when the subject needs to brush their teeth. There are believes that I don't agree with but with all that I need to remember that I am also connected with people that I wouldn't necessarily be in regular contact with. Facebook also connects me with old friends--that's the love part of the relationship.
30. This was a fast list--I am lucky I have more to say. But I will keep it at 30.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
I feel like I have been caught jamming a whole lot of cake in my mouth.
I was caught...
Every Wednesday, we have a sitter that picks up the girls from school and makes them dinner. This gives Ching and me three hours to do other things but predominantly to stay at work. I have all these little things to get done and today was a sucky focus day. But my toes have chipped nail polish and quite frankly, they nails need to be cut. (I like it when they cut my nails for me. They get them so straight across. I tend to produce weird ass slants.) I said, "freak it" while I packed up my computer to get the small things done from home but after I go get a pedicure.
From Ching and the girl's perspective, I am still at work, but in reality, I am in a massage chair soaking in bubbly warm water. I know I shouldn't feel guilty but I do. I am sure this tendency is explained in many books either about being on the brink or not leaning in enough. Last week, I saw a list of 23 things that women shouldn't do but do anyway. Tell me something I don't know--maybe that should be number 24 for the author.
So as I am finishing up feeling like I have pulled a fast one on the other Wangs. My toes look great and my skin is much softer. This was totally worth it. But then it happens...another mom brought her daughter, who is a friend of Laurel's, for a manicure. I feel like I have been caught jamming a whole lot of cake in my mouth. I see the mom but she doesn't see me yet. Not only do I a feel busted but then I have to do that little pep talk--"nothing inappropriate, nothing awkward." Then the voices start to bicker inside my head--"I should at least say hi." "I should only say hi if she sees me." Or, my fave, "screw her, she just ruined my cover."
The mother isn't judgmental--she doesn't care that I am there. It's that her daughter is going to tell Laurel that I was there getting my toes down as she was getting a manicure. Jesus Christ, when did this become junior high? Because I introduced Laurel to the world of mani/pedi's, she now feels entitled.
The mom sees me and I am able to be very proper: "Nice to see you. Hi there (to the girl). Enjoy your manicures." Wow, sometimes I do have a stick up my butt that makes me very salutary. But regardless, I skulk out of there likes it's a strip club and I am dirty and smelling like broad.
I must have a look of deceit when I walk into the house. Laurel's eyes goes right down to my toes and she says, "Nice color. When did you get that done?" I avoid the question, knowing that she is going to find out tomorrow.
(And this is #400...thank you for reading.)
Every Wednesday, we have a sitter that picks up the girls from school and makes them dinner. This gives Ching and me three hours to do other things but predominantly to stay at work. I have all these little things to get done and today was a sucky focus day. But my toes have chipped nail polish and quite frankly, they nails need to be cut. (I like it when they cut my nails for me. They get them so straight across. I tend to produce weird ass slants.) I said, "freak it" while I packed up my computer to get the small things done from home but after I go get a pedicure.
From Ching and the girl's perspective, I am still at work, but in reality, I am in a massage chair soaking in bubbly warm water. I know I shouldn't feel guilty but I do. I am sure this tendency is explained in many books either about being on the brink or not leaning in enough. Last week, I saw a list of 23 things that women shouldn't do but do anyway. Tell me something I don't know--maybe that should be number 24 for the author.
So as I am finishing up feeling like I have pulled a fast one on the other Wangs. My toes look great and my skin is much softer. This was totally worth it. But then it happens...another mom brought her daughter, who is a friend of Laurel's, for a manicure. I feel like I have been caught jamming a whole lot of cake in my mouth. I see the mom but she doesn't see me yet. Not only do I a feel busted but then I have to do that little pep talk--"nothing inappropriate, nothing awkward." Then the voices start to bicker inside my head--"I should at least say hi." "I should only say hi if she sees me." Or, my fave, "screw her, she just ruined my cover."
The mother isn't judgmental--she doesn't care that I am there. It's that her daughter is going to tell Laurel that I was there getting my toes down as she was getting a manicure. Jesus Christ, when did this become junior high? Because I introduced Laurel to the world of mani/pedi's, she now feels entitled.
The mom sees me and I am able to be very proper: "Nice to see you. Hi there (to the girl). Enjoy your manicures." Wow, sometimes I do have a stick up my butt that makes me very salutary. But regardless, I skulk out of there likes it's a strip club and I am dirty and smelling like broad.
I must have a look of deceit when I walk into the house. Laurel's eyes goes right down to my toes and she says, "Nice color. When did you get that done?" I avoid the question, knowing that she is going to find out tomorrow.
(And this is #400...thank you for reading.)
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
You know how some people can't wait to take off uncomfortable undergarments as soon as they get home--my filter is my uncomfortable undergarment.
I woke up with the feeling of dread. All day this event just looming over me like a dark cloud. Tonight is the Cabot Community Dinner. It's a back to school dinner that gets parents and kids together with pizza, sweets and a DJ.
First of all, it's on a Tuesday--the worse day of the week. By Tuesday night, you are elbow deep in your typical weekly crap and the week isn't even half way done. Secondly, I have no urge to be social and correct. To be correct means keeping the filter on. All day at work, I focus and have that filter on but as soon as I get through the door, the filter is off. You know how some people can't wait to take off uncomfortable undergarments as soon as they get home--my filter is my uncomfortable undergarment.
Ching gets there first because he has volunteered to sell tickets (Slices of pizza, juice boxes and desserts are purchased with tickets.) I am just going to show up. For Christ's sake, I have been nice all day.
I don't like these things. I am okay in smaller classroom settings with parents on either side of me. But this is a sea of adults and kids and I don't want to walk up to someone and strike up a conversation (and probably say something inappropriate and awkward is the filter isn't on tight enough). Of course the one conversation I will have will be right near the DJ booth and I won't be able to hear a God damn thing.
I am okay with not being friends with other mothers at Laurel's school. I am okay with this because I have friends, they are just not mothers at this school. Maybe eventually, when I figure out who Laurel's real bestie is and I will make the effort. But right now I am friendless at Cabot Elementary and I am okay with that.
So when I get home and change my clothes, I can all ready hear the DJ in the field. I look at the clock and let myself know that this will be over in 90 minutes.
I get there and Laurel wants me to join her on the "dance grass" and do the swing dance. I just twirl her a bit and then Rachel is like a magnet wanted to twirl too. With all of twirling going on, this is when a mom comes up to me. Sure as shit...the one mom that talks to me is right by a speaker. I think I talked about volunteering on picture day.
Ching is sitting among the ladies selling tickets. I am somewhat amused but proud at the same time. There are several woman volunteers and one dude. That one dude is my man, Mr. Ching Wang. I am curious how that conversation is going--wondering if it's about activities, new teachers or a lack of focus. Hearing about other kids and their lack of focus calms him down.
As Rachel wants to spin to the music, I decide that I don't need to talk to anyone....because with this spinning I may throw up. I notice Laurel dancing and realize that her pants are too small. I am also question those moves and may have to curb her Katy Perry watching. And why is she dancing in her socks? Where the hell are her sneakers?
I look around and notice other parents that are just standing, watching like zombies. I don't think they want to talk either. Maybe they also realize, like me, that they have eight more of these dinners in the future until all kids are in junior high.
Before the last song, they announce there is a parents only event on 9/27. I really don't see myself going to that event either.
First of all, it's on a Tuesday--the worse day of the week. By Tuesday night, you are elbow deep in your typical weekly crap and the week isn't even half way done. Secondly, I have no urge to be social and correct. To be correct means keeping the filter on. All day at work, I focus and have that filter on but as soon as I get through the door, the filter is off. You know how some people can't wait to take off uncomfortable undergarments as soon as they get home--my filter is my uncomfortable undergarment.
Ching gets there first because he has volunteered to sell tickets (Slices of pizza, juice boxes and desserts are purchased with tickets.) I am just going to show up. For Christ's sake, I have been nice all day.
I don't like these things. I am okay in smaller classroom settings with parents on either side of me. But this is a sea of adults and kids and I don't want to walk up to someone and strike up a conversation (and probably say something inappropriate and awkward is the filter isn't on tight enough). Of course the one conversation I will have will be right near the DJ booth and I won't be able to hear a God damn thing.
I am okay with not being friends with other mothers at Laurel's school. I am okay with this because I have friends, they are just not mothers at this school. Maybe eventually, when I figure out who Laurel's real bestie is and I will make the effort. But right now I am friendless at Cabot Elementary and I am okay with that.
So when I get home and change my clothes, I can all ready hear the DJ in the field. I look at the clock and let myself know that this will be over in 90 minutes.
I get there and Laurel wants me to join her on the "dance grass" and do the swing dance. I just twirl her a bit and then Rachel is like a magnet wanted to twirl too. With all of twirling going on, this is when a mom comes up to me. Sure as shit...the one mom that talks to me is right by a speaker. I think I talked about volunteering on picture day.
Ching is sitting among the ladies selling tickets. I am somewhat amused but proud at the same time. There are several woman volunteers and one dude. That one dude is my man, Mr. Ching Wang. I am curious how that conversation is going--wondering if it's about activities, new teachers or a lack of focus. Hearing about other kids and their lack of focus calms him down.
As Rachel wants to spin to the music, I decide that I don't need to talk to anyone....because with this spinning I may throw up. I notice Laurel dancing and realize that her pants are too small. I am also question those moves and may have to curb her Katy Perry watching. And why is she dancing in her socks? Where the hell are her sneakers?
I look around and notice other parents that are just standing, watching like zombies. I don't think they want to talk either. Maybe they also realize, like me, that they have eight more of these dinners in the future until all kids are in junior high.
Before the last song, they announce there is a parents only event on 9/27. I really don't see myself going to that event either.
Monday, September 16, 2013
She probably has all organic vegan menu flown in with a Beverly Hills blessing to always have perky boobs on the side.
"You know Laurel, that's not what Katy Perry would do."
Holy Shit--it worked!
Lately, Laurel has been obsessed with Katy Perry. She has been watching all of her videos, behind the scenes of the videos and dancing to all the songs. While Katy Perry isn't my taste, I don't mind. I don't think she is going to last more that a few more years. She seems so processed and fits perfectly into the mold of the minute..."Sweet Girl in Love" then "Pissed Divorcee'" and now "Strong Woman with a Voice" all the while dating Taylor Swift's sloppy seconds and ripping off a Sarah Bareilles song.
So when Laurel just wanted plain spaghetti for dinner (again!), I told her that I read about Katy Perry's diet--she eats a lot of chicken for strength. (I know I am blatantly lying. She probably has all organic vegan menu flown in with a Beverly Hills blessing to always have perky boobs on the side.) But Laurel agreed--while she only ate a bite, it was one bite more than last night!
This could work for so many other things:
Homework: Katy Perry makes sure that she always does her homework. Her homework is making sure to know all about her audience and what songs they would like to hear.
Going to Bed Earlier: Katy Perry gets 10 hours a sleep a night--how do you think she looks so good frolicking with elephants?
Brushing Teeth: How do you think she eats all that candy from her California Girls video while maintaining a healthy smile? "You know Laurel, you just can't buy white teeth."
But then again, this could backfire:
Skin Tight Jeans: "And no Laurel, you are not going to be some one's teenage dream."
Brushing Hair: "Laurel, I am sure that she still brushes her hair under her blue wig. And no, you cannot have a blue wig."
Covering Up: Honestly--I may not have to worry about boobs hanging out especially if she takes after me. But I will remain alert.
But again, we are talking about one bite of non-chicken-nugget chicken! I am totally going with that.
Now, I lie and wait to see who Rachel starts to emulate.....
Holy Shit--it worked!
Lately, Laurel has been obsessed with Katy Perry. She has been watching all of her videos, behind the scenes of the videos and dancing to all the songs. While Katy Perry isn't my taste, I don't mind. I don't think she is going to last more that a few more years. She seems so processed and fits perfectly into the mold of the minute..."Sweet Girl in Love" then "Pissed Divorcee'" and now "Strong Woman with a Voice" all the while dating Taylor Swift's sloppy seconds and ripping off a Sarah Bareilles song.
So when Laurel just wanted plain spaghetti for dinner (again!), I told her that I read about Katy Perry's diet--she eats a lot of chicken for strength. (I know I am blatantly lying. She probably has all organic vegan menu flown in with a Beverly Hills blessing to always have perky boobs on the side.) But Laurel agreed--while she only ate a bite, it was one bite more than last night!
This could work for so many other things:
Homework: Katy Perry makes sure that she always does her homework. Her homework is making sure to know all about her audience and what songs they would like to hear.
Going to Bed Earlier: Katy Perry gets 10 hours a sleep a night--how do you think she looks so good frolicking with elephants?
Brushing Teeth: How do you think she eats all that candy from her California Girls video while maintaining a healthy smile? "You know Laurel, you just can't buy white teeth."
But then again, this could backfire:
Skin Tight Jeans: "And no Laurel, you are not going to be some one's teenage dream."
Brushing Hair: "Laurel, I am sure that she still brushes her hair under her blue wig. And no, you cannot have a blue wig."
Covering Up: Honestly--I may not have to worry about boobs hanging out especially if she takes after me. But I will remain alert.
But again, we are talking about one bite of non-chicken-nugget chicken! I am totally going with that.
Now, I lie and wait to see who Rachel starts to emulate.....
Sunday, September 15, 2013
My inner bitch finds solace that she is sporting a scrunchy.
This past week marked an event that is considered blog gold for me--it was Open House at Laurel's school. Last year was the nut butter incident so this year, my guard is up. Also, I just make sure I am close to the door.
The event doesn't start out that great because it's 93 degrees out and the Pike was jammed due to an accident. I arrive seven minutes late (but I look pretty good, I will give myself that) as do other parents with similar commutes. While I come in during the presentation, I find that it's the same one as last year and the year before that. This version just happens to be for 2nd grade.
Surprisingly, the presentation goes by pretty quickly which is good because sweat is dripping down my legs. I do brace myself for the Q+A period and true to form, there is a question that has nothing to do with the group but for one individual family. And then there is a question from a low speaking bitchy mom that gets aggravated that she has to repeat herself. (Yeah, your kid sucks too.) My inner bitch finds solace that she is sporting a scrunchy.
Finally, the group is broken up into the individual classrooms and I get to check out Laurel's stuff. And her teacher...who looks really, really young. Good Lord, she doesn't even look like she has gone through puberty yet. Never the less, I put that aside because she was a very good speaker during the presentation and Laurel loves her. I am also trying to be on my best behavior. This type of event usually brings out my non-filter personality which leads me to say awkward things at inappropriate times.
Laurel leaves a written letter telling my what she likes about school and what she would like to do this year. Her first goal is to make more friends. Out loud, I say, "more friends? You wanted 40 of your besties at last year's birthday party!" Other parents are looking at me wondering who I was talking to and why am I questioning more friends? And I start coughing, like that is going to camouflage my babbling.
Then I see another writing project that states her favorite part of 1st grade was homework. That is such a blatant suck up and lie! And I don't keep this to myself either. I also don't even notice if parents are slowly inching away from me.
I don't care because I have the task of introducing myself to Laurel's teacher. As I am waiting my turn I am next to one of Laurel's best friend's mom. I like her very much and am always astounded by her time management. She is volunteering to be a classroom mom. I inch away from her and avoid eye contact with the teacher. I want to make is clear that I am not volunteering. This mom (of two adopted Chinese girls) offers all sorts of resources for the social studies project on China. I am then reminded that my Chinese husband may not even remember that he is Chinese.
Still waiting for my intro turn and I notice the nut butter mom! Her daughter must be in this class. She has a baby strapped to the front of her and is sporting huge side boob---Oh my God, please start feeding your kid in here. Whip it out and let all the dads either stare or squick out! And she doesn't...oh well. (Thankfully I kept that request silent.)
Oh my turn...
JCW: "Hi. I wanted to introduce myself. My name is Jude Carlson-Wang. I am Laurel's mom. She thinks very highly of you."
Laurel's teacher: "Oh Laurel--she is a very charming, independent girl."
JCW: "Yeah, I don't know where she gets that. I don't think she is my kid."
L's T: stares blankly
I need to stop doing this......
Monday, September 9, 2013
I have no time to think about this...I have Bertolli in a bag to heat at high heat for 4 minutes and let simmer for 8 and then dinner is made.
As I face my first pick up of both girls in the new school year, I wonder if it will feel different. Will I be calmer? Can I get both girls with time to spare?
The commute is packed but runs smoothly. I talk to myself as usual. Curse the guy in the work parking lot that had no inkling to look to his left as he screamed out of his parking space and could have hit me. I realize that I am low on gas but have no idea where the gas latch is---JCW, when getting a new car, you should probably spend time on the basics before setting station favorites on the radio. Yeah, this feels about the same.
I will pick up Rachel first. She will sense the time crunch and hold me hostage showing everyone her "chicka chicka boom boom" dance. Knowing that her cuteness can't be rushed, she then will invite four of her besties over for a play date. I will push her out the door promising other parents a call or an e-mail since Rachel has now made me the host.
The whole city of Newton will be trying to get home at the same time. And no one is using the main way; we will all try to get home faster by using side streets. In this rush, I will decide that I will not be doing my standard grilled pork with sauteed kale and a couscous stuffed grilled yellow bell pepper. Nope, I am doing Bertolli out of a bag. I shouldn't because gluten has been kicking my ass lately. But I will, to save time--more on that later.
We will finally reach Laurel's school with five minutes to spare. Like Rachel, Laurel will also think she is the hostess with the mostest and want to invite everyone over too. Including this one girl who's mom never returned my calls over the summer. It will get awkward when she does one of those weak..."Summer was so busy." Whatev...I won't care. Maybe you think Laurel is that kid in your household but I doubt that. I have no time to think about this...I have Bertolli in a bag to heat at high heat for 4 minutes and let simmer for 8 and then dinner is made.
I will listen to Ching feeling wronged by some wild animal. It's not the squirrels but raccoons now. They were in the trash again (because the cans were not in the garage) and one left a poop present right on the lid. Nothing squicks Ching more than poop and now it's war. He mentioned trapping them but at that point, I will tell myself to ignore and focus on my Bertolli in a bag.
As I rush to get dinner in front of everyone, the window guy will arrive. That's right; Ching got sucked into a window installation demo at BJ's and now some guy is coming over to give an estimate. This will suck--there is nothing worse than being at work all day in a sales job and then coming home and being the audience. I will notice all of his confirmations that we are following his presentation. (Seem okay?) I will notice how he will try to ingratiate himself to me by cluing in on my Connecticut shirt and then asking me, what my major was? What is this a freakin' frat party? He will tell us how cute the girls are--tell me something that I don't know, Skippy. While Ching has promised me that this will only be 30 minutes, I am pretty sure James the Window Guy will be here for two hours.
And I am as right as rain on almost everything--the gluten filled Bertolli didn't kicked my ass. The bag stated 2 servings but it was really only a regular Ching serving and small Rachel serving. (Laurel ate something totally different.) I ate left over quinoa and grilled chicken. The people behind me on the treadmill tomorrow will totally appreciate this. I know...because I just seem to know the routine.
The commute is packed but runs smoothly. I talk to myself as usual. Curse the guy in the work parking lot that had no inkling to look to his left as he screamed out of his parking space and could have hit me. I realize that I am low on gas but have no idea where the gas latch is---JCW, when getting a new car, you should probably spend time on the basics before setting station favorites on the radio. Yeah, this feels about the same.
I will pick up Rachel first. She will sense the time crunch and hold me hostage showing everyone her "chicka chicka boom boom" dance. Knowing that her cuteness can't be rushed, she then will invite four of her besties over for a play date. I will push her out the door promising other parents a call or an e-mail since Rachel has now made me the host.
The whole city of Newton will be trying to get home at the same time. And no one is using the main way; we will all try to get home faster by using side streets. In this rush, I will decide that I will not be doing my standard grilled pork with sauteed kale and a couscous stuffed grilled yellow bell pepper. Nope, I am doing Bertolli out of a bag. I shouldn't because gluten has been kicking my ass lately. But I will, to save time--more on that later.
We will finally reach Laurel's school with five minutes to spare. Like Rachel, Laurel will also think she is the hostess with the mostest and want to invite everyone over too. Including this one girl who's mom never returned my calls over the summer. It will get awkward when she does one of those weak..."Summer was so busy." Whatev...I won't care. Maybe you think Laurel is that kid in your household but I doubt that. I have no time to think about this...I have Bertolli in a bag to heat at high heat for 4 minutes and let simmer for 8 and then dinner is made.
I will listen to Ching feeling wronged by some wild animal. It's not the squirrels but raccoons now. They were in the trash again (because the cans were not in the garage) and one left a poop present right on the lid. Nothing squicks Ching more than poop and now it's war. He mentioned trapping them but at that point, I will tell myself to ignore and focus on my Bertolli in a bag.
As I rush to get dinner in front of everyone, the window guy will arrive. That's right; Ching got sucked into a window installation demo at BJ's and now some guy is coming over to give an estimate. This will suck--there is nothing worse than being at work all day in a sales job and then coming home and being the audience. I will notice all of his confirmations that we are following his presentation. (Seem okay?) I will notice how he will try to ingratiate himself to me by cluing in on my Connecticut shirt and then asking me, what my major was? What is this a freakin' frat party? He will tell us how cute the girls are--tell me something that I don't know, Skippy. While Ching has promised me that this will only be 30 minutes, I am pretty sure James the Window Guy will be here for two hours.
And I am as right as rain on almost everything--the gluten filled Bertolli didn't kicked my ass. The bag stated 2 servings but it was really only a regular Ching serving and small Rachel serving. (Laurel ate something totally different.) I ate left over quinoa and grilled chicken. The people behind me on the treadmill tomorrow will totally appreciate this. I know...because I just seem to know the routine.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
You are certainly not going to see a picture of me, full bitch face, bloated and yelling at my girls.
Recently I posted a family picture on Facebook. I am consistently humbled at how many people will comment about how beautiful my family is or just the niceness of the picture. But I will also laugh, when people say that I look great based on these pictures--of course I do. I only post the good ones. You are certainly not going to see a picture of me, full bitch face, bloated and yelling at my girls. I know there is probably one lurking out there but I am not going to post that willingly.
When I look at the Wangs in this latest family photo--I wonder if people know the possibility of what was going on before the picture was taken. Or can you see what I see?
The first obvious is that constant of Rachel being held by Ching and Laurel sticking next to me. This pairing always happens and while I should prevent it and mix it up a bit, I don't. It doesn't see the point--until I lose some trivia game when it's "Team Smarties", C+R, vs. "Team Looks Good", J+L.
Then, let's look at Laurel. While her hair is nicely brushed, it took awhile to get that way before the picture. She has long, thick hair that gets very tangled but she hates brushing it.. If it is not brushed, it looks like a bad weave with a family of mice tucked in there.
To her right, is me. Knowing that I wanted to have this picture taken on our only family vacation of the year, I straightened my hair and put make-up on to look casually natural. But I am still critical--I think my teeth look a little yellowy and I didn't suck in my stomach. (When did this become a norm for me? Picture being taken--suck in your stomach. Walking the floor at work--suck in your stomach. Dropping Rachel off at daycare--suck in your stomach. Running errands--suck in your stomach. It's not a habit that I am proud of and it really bites.)
Rachel, who is sitting on Ching's lap is being typical Rachel. We have to take several pictures because she won't look at the camera or she is acting goofy. (If you ask her if she is goofy--she will correct you and say that she is minnie--no joke.) So the picture that you see is one of 20.
Unfortunately Ching doesn't get a lot of my attention. I am hoping he can fend for himself. I am just hoping that his eyes are open in the picture but not too wide (to avoid that "I have just been jabbed with a cattle prod" look) and his mouth is closed.
This picture wasn't a casual--"oh, let's take a Wang family photo". It was a "Rachel needs a family photo in her class--we need to get this done." To actually make the effort and sit down and do this takes some effort. The picture is fine and does the job. And until next year when she needs another one...this one will have to do...
When I look at the Wangs in this latest family photo--I wonder if people know the possibility of what was going on before the picture was taken. Or can you see what I see?
The first obvious is that constant of Rachel being held by Ching and Laurel sticking next to me. This pairing always happens and while I should prevent it and mix it up a bit, I don't. It doesn't see the point--until I lose some trivia game when it's "Team Smarties", C+R, vs. "Team Looks Good", J+L.
Then, let's look at Laurel. While her hair is nicely brushed, it took awhile to get that way before the picture. She has long, thick hair that gets very tangled but she hates brushing it.. If it is not brushed, it looks like a bad weave with a family of mice tucked in there.
To her right, is me. Knowing that I wanted to have this picture taken on our only family vacation of the year, I straightened my hair and put make-up on to look casually natural. But I am still critical--I think my teeth look a little yellowy and I didn't suck in my stomach. (When did this become a norm for me? Picture being taken--suck in your stomach. Walking the floor at work--suck in your stomach. Dropping Rachel off at daycare--suck in your stomach. Running errands--suck in your stomach. It's not a habit that I am proud of and it really bites.)
Rachel, who is sitting on Ching's lap is being typical Rachel. We have to take several pictures because she won't look at the camera or she is acting goofy. (If you ask her if she is goofy--she will correct you and say that she is minnie--no joke.) So the picture that you see is one of 20.
Unfortunately Ching doesn't get a lot of my attention. I am hoping he can fend for himself. I am just hoping that his eyes are open in the picture but not too wide (to avoid that "I have just been jabbed with a cattle prod" look) and his mouth is closed.
This picture wasn't a casual--"oh, let's take a Wang family photo". It was a "Rachel needs a family photo in her class--we need to get this done." To actually make the effort and sit down and do this takes some effort. The picture is fine and does the job. And until next year when she needs another one...this one will have to do...
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Have you noticed that this time of year turns into a total pissing contest between mothers comparing how fast their Johnnie grows...Punch me in the face if I ever do that.
With the collage of back to school pictures posted on Facebook, mine included, there was a common question: Where did the time go? Maybe the question pops into any parent's head when they are comparing pictures from previous years or crying over back to school costs. "No, you don't need those school supplies, I will just find them under the bed" or "I just bought you new sneakers."
(Hey total aside, have you noticed that this time of year turns into a total pissing contest between mothers comparing how fast their Johnnie grows--"he grew two sizes over the summer!" Punch me in the face if I ever do that.)
But I look at my girls and know exactly where my time went:
1. Sleep--and never enough. Or sleep when I am sharing a bed with a kid who wants to "cuddle, cuddle" only to end up kicking me in places that I shouldn't be kicked in the dead of night.
2. Food prep--but not meals but snacks, every 20 freakin' minutes.
3. Play dates/Birthday Parties--Coordination of times, wooing certain parents that we like and want their kid to come over and avoiding certain others.
4. Reasoning, Bargaining, Ultimatums and Begging--usually in public places. Laurel is out of that stage. Rachel is in the stage and I think it's going to stick around until she is 22.
5. Diapering and/or toileting: With diapering there was always the amazement of frequency, and later in this stage, punch. Now, it is running to the potty with Rachel or standing outside the bathroom with Laurel because she doesn't want to be alone.
6. Discovery--The joy of something sweet or the disgust of something that they will never touch again. "But I don't like fish."
7. Books read...over and over. We whittled Laurel down from 7 books a night to 15 pages out of a chapter book--Rachel just likes one--no more, no less.
8. Queuing up DVR or On Demand and then pulling them away when they have had enough.
9. Lots of giggles from Laurel and Santa like belly laughs from Rachel--and usually this is at the dinner table when I would just like to have a nice sane meal.
10. Answering the impossible question--Mom, how who you describe describe? Why was I born? Basically I either defer to Wikipedia or claim I didn't hear and get into the bathroom. Let Ching deal with it.
And that just scratches the surface. I didn't even mention all the trips to McDonald's.....but I have my blog so I remember everything.
(Hey total aside, have you noticed that this time of year turns into a total pissing contest between mothers comparing how fast their Johnnie grows--"he grew two sizes over the summer!" Punch me in the face if I ever do that.)
But I look at my girls and know exactly where my time went:
1. Sleep--and never enough. Or sleep when I am sharing a bed with a kid who wants to "cuddle, cuddle" only to end up kicking me in places that I shouldn't be kicked in the dead of night.
2. Food prep--but not meals but snacks, every 20 freakin' minutes.
3. Play dates/Birthday Parties--Coordination of times, wooing certain parents that we like and want their kid to come over and avoiding certain others.
4. Reasoning, Bargaining, Ultimatums and Begging--usually in public places. Laurel is out of that stage. Rachel is in the stage and I think it's going to stick around until she is 22.
5. Diapering and/or toileting: With diapering there was always the amazement of frequency, and later in this stage, punch. Now, it is running to the potty with Rachel or standing outside the bathroom with Laurel because she doesn't want to be alone.
6. Discovery--The joy of something sweet or the disgust of something that they will never touch again. "But I don't like fish."
7. Books read...over and over. We whittled Laurel down from 7 books a night to 15 pages out of a chapter book--Rachel just likes one--no more, no less.
8. Queuing up DVR or On Demand and then pulling them away when they have had enough.
9. Lots of giggles from Laurel and Santa like belly laughs from Rachel--and usually this is at the dinner table when I would just like to have a nice sane meal.
10. Answering the impossible question--Mom, how who you describe describe? Why was I born? Basically I either defer to Wikipedia or claim I didn't hear and get into the bathroom. Let Ching deal with it.
And that just scratches the surface. I didn't even mention all the trips to McDonald's.....but I have my blog so I remember everything.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
And Ching's 40th birthday is lurking...I joke, but there is no way I am twerking for that mo'fo.
As I kneel....
To whom it may concern in the heavens,
The autumnal Gods..who am I kidding...Goddesses.
Dear Autumnal Goddesses,
I don't know what I have to do to get this right, but please let me have my act together for the school year. This time of year always feels like a make it or break it time. If I don't start out on the right foot, I feel like I am behind well until March. (By then, I just give up.) I believe I am on the right path...
I have made the necessary lists of tasks that I need to get started right now (with an exclamation point): I have the next three months mapped on for any events, holidays that regular people don't take off and early dismissal. Picture Day is marked down along with that sucky non-holiday known as Halloween.
So that leads to tasks that must get finished by the end of the month: Halloween costumes need to be chosen and ordered--because I don't make them. An inventory of jackets, hats, mittens and boots needs to be done to see what the girls need. (I guess I will wear the same coat that I have been wearing since 2004.) Nothing sucks more than that first cold snap and not being able to find a matching pair of mittens. Laurel's school clothes shopping needs to be finished--I did warm weather stuff first. Warmer clothes will be done mid-month. And Ching's 40th birthday is lurking...I joke, but there is no way I am twerking for that mo'fo. (He has been pissing me off lately.) But I need to plan something.
I have also mapped all the weekend activities--3 different activities for each girl with separate times. I am not sure when I am going to have to time to do basics like peeing.
And then it's football season. I don't think it would be too much to ask if we could have one winning season with either the BC Eagles, Miami Hurricanes or the Minnesota Vikings...but this is a stretch because they really suck. So Ching will be pissy and I will quell his sorrow with meatloaf or heavy pasta dishes.
I have all ready tried to get on your good side. All the girls new school year forms have been filled out with exactly the same information that I have the school that last year and the year before that. Regardless of that...they are filled out and all ready packed in their bags for tomorrow.
I am trying. Come on....throw a sister a bone.
Regards,
Jude Carlson-Wang
To whom it may concern in the heavens,
The autumnal Gods..who am I kidding...Goddesses.
Dear Autumnal Goddesses,
I don't know what I have to do to get this right, but please let me have my act together for the school year. This time of year always feels like a make it or break it time. If I don't start out on the right foot, I feel like I am behind well until March. (By then, I just give up.) I believe I am on the right path...
I have made the necessary lists of tasks that I need to get started right now (with an exclamation point): I have the next three months mapped on for any events, holidays that regular people don't take off and early dismissal. Picture Day is marked down along with that sucky non-holiday known as Halloween.
So that leads to tasks that must get finished by the end of the month: Halloween costumes need to be chosen and ordered--because I don't make them. An inventory of jackets, hats, mittens and boots needs to be done to see what the girls need. (I guess I will wear the same coat that I have been wearing since 2004.) Nothing sucks more than that first cold snap and not being able to find a matching pair of mittens. Laurel's school clothes shopping needs to be finished--I did warm weather stuff first. Warmer clothes will be done mid-month. And Ching's 40th birthday is lurking...I joke, but there is no way I am twerking for that mo'fo. (He has been pissing me off lately.) But I need to plan something.
I have also mapped all the weekend activities--3 different activities for each girl with separate times. I am not sure when I am going to have to time to do basics like peeing.
And then it's football season. I don't think it would be too much to ask if we could have one winning season with either the BC Eagles, Miami Hurricanes or the Minnesota Vikings...but this is a stretch because they really suck. So Ching will be pissy and I will quell his sorrow with meatloaf or heavy pasta dishes.
I have all ready tried to get on your good side. All the girls new school year forms have been filled out with exactly the same information that I have the school that last year and the year before that. Regardless of that...they are filled out and all ready packed in their bags for tomorrow.
I am trying. Come on....throw a sister a bone.
Regards,
Jude Carlson-Wang
Monday, September 2, 2013
We did come to the agreement that once school starts...undies all the way.
And the summer's over. Every year I am absolutely astounded how fast if flies and the fact that people still complain about the heat like it's a surprise. These complainers weren't as annoying as those clowns that felt the need to take a picture of their car temp and post it on Facebook. What was this--a God damn competition or a head's up? Like I didn't know it was hot out?
Anywhoo, I would like to tell you some of the highlights:
Rachel is officially on the potty with success! She feels real shame if she has an accident and I don't feel bad...just in case she is toying with me. The only bad thing about potty training a child is that you start using the word "potty" like it's a normal word. Just last week, I told someone that I was going to the potty rather than saying I was going to the ladies room. But whatev, I am $50 a month richer and I am trying to finagle that savings right to JCW.
Ching and I actually accomplished a lot of projects--hired a new babysitter, got a new driveway, a newly leased car and have picked out paints for a September painting project. All of this without pouting or passive aggression...wow, acting adult...who would have thought?
My white linen work pants got through another summer unstained! Every wearing I felt like I was tempting a fate that I recently pissed off...but nope, still bright white.
Rachel started using very "big kid" words over the summer. Words like "disgusting", "cool", "awesome" to name a few. Her delivery is spot on and it just makes me laugh coming out of her little body that she is becoming a kid and not a toddler. I also know that it's just a matter of time when she starts to mimic my swears that just happen to slip.
Laurel discovered the art of going commando. At camp, she decided that it was a pain to put undies after changing out of her swimsuit. I argued a bit and then gave in. I decided to pick my battles and this wasn't one especially since her shorts are rather long. We did come to the agreement that once school starts...undies all the way. But Ching didn't care for this at all...you haven't lived until you hear your husband scream, "Laurel, we are not leaving the house until you put underwear on!" God, I didn't think that would happen so soon...I thought I was in the free and clear for that one until 2022...obviously not.
And the summer ended with getting a 2nd grade class list for Laurel that I loved. A couple of kids that I wanted to separate Laurel from are in another class. Kids that I really like (along with their parents) are all in the same class! Except I am prepared for that sleeper pain in the ass...it's inevitable and it will make my blog just a little richer.
And with that...the school year may commence...Oh Christ.
Anywhoo, I would like to tell you some of the highlights:
Rachel is officially on the potty with success! She feels real shame if she has an accident and I don't feel bad...just in case she is toying with me. The only bad thing about potty training a child is that you start using the word "potty" like it's a normal word. Just last week, I told someone that I was going to the potty rather than saying I was going to the ladies room. But whatev, I am $50 a month richer and I am trying to finagle that savings right to JCW.
Ching and I actually accomplished a lot of projects--hired a new babysitter, got a new driveway, a newly leased car and have picked out paints for a September painting project. All of this without pouting or passive aggression...wow, acting adult...who would have thought?
My white linen work pants got through another summer unstained! Every wearing I felt like I was tempting a fate that I recently pissed off...but nope, still bright white.
Rachel started using very "big kid" words over the summer. Words like "disgusting", "cool", "awesome" to name a few. Her delivery is spot on and it just makes me laugh coming out of her little body that she is becoming a kid and not a toddler. I also know that it's just a matter of time when she starts to mimic my swears that just happen to slip.
Laurel discovered the art of going commando. At camp, she decided that it was a pain to put undies after changing out of her swimsuit. I argued a bit and then gave in. I decided to pick my battles and this wasn't one especially since her shorts are rather long. We did come to the agreement that once school starts...undies all the way. But Ching didn't care for this at all...you haven't lived until you hear your husband scream, "Laurel, we are not leaving the house until you put underwear on!" God, I didn't think that would happen so soon...I thought I was in the free and clear for that one until 2022...obviously not.
And the summer ended with getting a 2nd grade class list for Laurel that I loved. A couple of kids that I wanted to separate Laurel from are in another class. Kids that I really like (along with their parents) are all in the same class! Except I am prepared for that sleeper pain in the ass...it's inevitable and it will make my blog just a little richer.
And with that...the school year may commence...Oh Christ.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
I took my time with it, remained calmed and realized that it wasn't some 20 year old flat-assed white girl with grungy looking tongue and a bad voice that was making me mad.
During my break from my blog, nothing screamed to me to get back to typing as the Miley Cyrus performance of last Sunday. I took my time with it, remained calmed and realized that it wasn't some 20 year old flat-assed white girl with grungy looking tongue and a bad voice that was making me mad. It was the song that was being performed with Robin Thicke, Blurred Lines, that was making me mad...at myself. This song is a constant reminder at how lax I am as a mother.
The radio has absolutely blown up with this song. And I love it--it's a different, retro type of beat. I can't get tired of it--I listen to it during my drive to and from work as well as during my run in the afternoon. But it's a bad song--have you, not listened to the "radio friendly" lyrics but read what they are actually saying? It rubs against every female sensibility that I was taught. Regardless, I still listen and, even giggle at what is "blurred" out over the airwaves. And Laurel listens to it too. She likes it but has no idea what is being said and I leave it at that.
But then this performance happens. Everyone is appalled--the twerking, the foam finger, etc. (I only know one person who was smart enough to point out the atrocious geriatric shoes.) But I really didn't hear a lot about the song. I really didn't need too--I shouldn't let my girls listen to that song just like I shouldn't let them watch those obnoxious Disney tween shows or use the Ipad for hours. This song is just another nail into the coffin of bad freakin' motherhood. It's really going to bite me in the ass when Rachel will randomly ask, "What rhymes with hug me?" And I know she is going to ask loudly, in front of several people.
For some reason, the focus is on a poorly executed twerk. (That wasn't twerking--there is a very nice woman out of the South Bronx named Sweet Boogie who does an excellent tutorial on YouTube. Good twerking is about a good squat. Perhaps Miley forgot that move because she was obsessed with her tongue.) The focus should be on a very well played song. But this song is still going to be played and played by me...but only when I am alone.
The radio has absolutely blown up with this song. And I love it--it's a different, retro type of beat. I can't get tired of it--I listen to it during my drive to and from work as well as during my run in the afternoon. But it's a bad song--have you, not listened to the "radio friendly" lyrics but read what they are actually saying? It rubs against every female sensibility that I was taught. Regardless, I still listen and, even giggle at what is "blurred" out over the airwaves. And Laurel listens to it too. She likes it but has no idea what is being said and I leave it at that.
But then this performance happens. Everyone is appalled--the twerking, the foam finger, etc. (I only know one person who was smart enough to point out the atrocious geriatric shoes.) But I really didn't hear a lot about the song. I really didn't need too--I shouldn't let my girls listen to that song just like I shouldn't let them watch those obnoxious Disney tween shows or use the Ipad for hours. This song is just another nail into the coffin of bad freakin' motherhood. It's really going to bite me in the ass when Rachel will randomly ask, "What rhymes with hug me?" And I know she is going to ask loudly, in front of several people.
For some reason, the focus is on a poorly executed twerk. (That wasn't twerking--there is a very nice woman out of the South Bronx named Sweet Boogie who does an excellent tutorial on YouTube. Good twerking is about a good squat. Perhaps Miley forgot that move because she was obsessed with her tongue.) The focus should be on a very well played song. But this song is still going to be played and played by me...but only when I am alone.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
I just came back from a family trip...but God damn it, the trip was no freakin' vacation.
I am behind at work, more tired than before I left, down four vacation days and a few pounds heavier. But the pissiness has subsided. I just came back from a family trip...but God damn it, the trip was no freakin' vacation.
I dread the trip even before I leave the state because I have to start by packing...first the girls and then me. I then think about why everyone has an monogrammed LL Bean back but me? I get to share Ching's CCW bag. Yay for me. While I make sure that the girls have enough outfits, undies and socks for 5 days, I do think of a co-worker that said that vacations totally suck for his wife. I then try to counter this thought with something positive--I only have to pack a handful of Pull-ups for Rachel has opposed to Huggies and wipes.
I tell myself that I just have to make it through the whole security check and then I will be home free. For some reason this taking-shoes-off-putting-Baby-Bear-in-a-bin-while-answering-a-million-Laurel-questions just feels overwhelming.
But I get through and tell myself that I am on vacation...but not really. I am still fetching the girls snacks. I am negotiating what I am feeding Laurel during a traditional Chinese dinner. I am trying to get Rachel to smile during the picture taking session at the first of two anniversary parties. Rachel is the toughest too because while Laurel is acting so grown up, answering all questions clearly and loudly, Rachel will not let anyone touch her. I can't blame her really because she can see her relatives statementing Laurel to death ("Laurel, you are so tall.") and she probably wants to avoid that. Also, a few of Ching's aunts wear a lot of make-up. To me, they look a little like trannies so I can't imagine how she sees them. None of this can be done by the pool in a chaise...
I haven't gotten any sleep. We stayed up very late each night and when we went to bed, the girls wanted to sleep with us. So Ching would sleep with one, and I, the other. Usually, by 1 am, I was kicked in the head.
You know that feeling during the day before you have to leave a really good vacation? It totally sucks because you don't want to go. When I was in Minnesota, I didn't have this feeling. Regardless of how hospitable people were, I wanted to go home.
We took a late flight back and with the hour time change, the girls were beyond Cranky McSourpuss by the time we got home (as was Mr. Ching Wang).
I stayed home with the girls the next day. Both were very tired, Rachel was nursing a cold and hadn't pooped in four days. While we were all scheduled to be some where else, I thought it would be best to stay home. And I had, clothes to unpack and wash while getting the fridge restocked.
I think lovingly of the last vacation that I took that didn't involve the girls or seeing people. Ironically, Ching was there and I still think about it with love. We stayed at the Four Seasons Aviara in North of San Diego. I came back rested, well read and probably weighing a few pounds but regardless, there was no one we had to go see. Nothing that we explicitly had to do. The funny things was that we wanted to have kids but didn't equate our grown up vacations would make way for Nickelodeon Universe at the Mall of America.
I have to suck it up because I have several years before the girls will treat themselves to a nice cheese plate rather than the mozzarella on a pizza. All our down time will be dedicated to the hotel pool. And to find alone time, I will "need" something from Target. Yeah, this should happen by 2022.
So when Ching asks me if I want to go some where...I am always hoping he just means the grocery store or something...
I dread the trip even before I leave the state because I have to start by packing...first the girls and then me. I then think about why everyone has an monogrammed LL Bean back but me? I get to share Ching's CCW bag. Yay for me. While I make sure that the girls have enough outfits, undies and socks for 5 days, I do think of a co-worker that said that vacations totally suck for his wife. I then try to counter this thought with something positive--I only have to pack a handful of Pull-ups for Rachel has opposed to Huggies and wipes.
I tell myself that I just have to make it through the whole security check and then I will be home free. For some reason this taking-shoes-off-putting-Baby-Bear-in-a-bin-while-answering-a-million-Laurel-questions just feels overwhelming.
But I get through and tell myself that I am on vacation...but not really. I am still fetching the girls snacks. I am negotiating what I am feeding Laurel during a traditional Chinese dinner. I am trying to get Rachel to smile during the picture taking session at the first of two anniversary parties. Rachel is the toughest too because while Laurel is acting so grown up, answering all questions clearly and loudly, Rachel will not let anyone touch her. I can't blame her really because she can see her relatives statementing Laurel to death ("Laurel, you are so tall.") and she probably wants to avoid that. Also, a few of Ching's aunts wear a lot of make-up. To me, they look a little like trannies so I can't imagine how she sees them. None of this can be done by the pool in a chaise...
I haven't gotten any sleep. We stayed up very late each night and when we went to bed, the girls wanted to sleep with us. So Ching would sleep with one, and I, the other. Usually, by 1 am, I was kicked in the head.
You know that feeling during the day before you have to leave a really good vacation? It totally sucks because you don't want to go. When I was in Minnesota, I didn't have this feeling. Regardless of how hospitable people were, I wanted to go home.
We took a late flight back and with the hour time change, the girls were beyond Cranky McSourpuss by the time we got home (as was Mr. Ching Wang).
I stayed home with the girls the next day. Both were very tired, Rachel was nursing a cold and hadn't pooped in four days. While we were all scheduled to be some where else, I thought it would be best to stay home. And I had, clothes to unpack and wash while getting the fridge restocked.
I think lovingly of the last vacation that I took that didn't involve the girls or seeing people. Ironically, Ching was there and I still think about it with love. We stayed at the Four Seasons Aviara in North of San Diego. I came back rested, well read and probably weighing a few pounds but regardless, there was no one we had to go see. Nothing that we explicitly had to do. The funny things was that we wanted to have kids but didn't equate our grown up vacations would make way for Nickelodeon Universe at the Mall of America.
I have to suck it up because I have several years before the girls will treat themselves to a nice cheese plate rather than the mozzarella on a pizza. All our down time will be dedicated to the hotel pool. And to find alone time, I will "need" something from Target. Yeah, this should happen by 2022.
So when Ching asks me if I want to go some where...I am always hoping he just means the grocery store or something...
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Also my yell is very loud and I haven't forgotten how to bite people.
Dear Mom,
That's right, it's me, Rachel. You didn't know that I could type did you? There are a lot of things that I can do or know that you may not realize. I am taking this opportunity to clarify some things.
What is up with your obsession with my pooping? I will poop when I poop. But you tell everyone, every day if I have or haven't. Give it a rest. Last time I checked you weren't the queen of regularity. (Yeah, I saw the super colon cleanse in the cabinet.) When I ask for milk, I want milk not that prune juice that you pass off as "plum juice." And no, I don't want any raisins either.
Baby Bear smells great. I don't like the snide comments that he has a odor. I love him matted and dirty. And I know you understand...have you smelled Daddy after one of his bike rides?
As you are buying clothes for Lo-Lo, I noticed that you are going through older things for me. I want new stuff too. Laurel's stuff isn't my body type. She is tall and scrawny while I am compact and powerful. Let's just call it the way everyone sees it.
Don't bother giving me new foods at dinner. Every night, you give me some fruits, carbs and a protein. I am a creature of habit (just like you)...I just want a yogurt and a couple of bites of the protein..that's it. So simple but you just don't seem to accept it.
Please keep these clarifications in mind and take them to heart. I understand that I am the smallest and youngest in the family but I can turn the waterworks on in a flash. Also my yell is very loud and I haven't forgotten how to bite people. I will torment you in the middle of the night with my pleading of "cuddle, cuddle"--you are so weak at 2 am. And as the last resort, I will start to like the softness of Huggies again. I mean it lady...I am not joking.
Best,
Rachel Jessica Wang
That's right, it's me, Rachel. You didn't know that I could type did you? There are a lot of things that I can do or know that you may not realize. I am taking this opportunity to clarify some things.
What is up with your obsession with my pooping? I will poop when I poop. But you tell everyone, every day if I have or haven't. Give it a rest. Last time I checked you weren't the queen of regularity. (Yeah, I saw the super colon cleanse in the cabinet.) When I ask for milk, I want milk not that prune juice that you pass off as "plum juice." And no, I don't want any raisins either.
Baby Bear smells great. I don't like the snide comments that he has a odor. I love him matted and dirty. And I know you understand...have you smelled Daddy after one of his bike rides?
As you are buying clothes for Lo-Lo, I noticed that you are going through older things for me. I want new stuff too. Laurel's stuff isn't my body type. She is tall and scrawny while I am compact and powerful. Let's just call it the way everyone sees it.
Don't bother giving me new foods at dinner. Every night, you give me some fruits, carbs and a protein. I am a creature of habit (just like you)...I just want a yogurt and a couple of bites of the protein..that's it. So simple but you just don't seem to accept it.
Please keep these clarifications in mind and take them to heart. I understand that I am the smallest and youngest in the family but I can turn the waterworks on in a flash. Also my yell is very loud and I haven't forgotten how to bite people. I will torment you in the middle of the night with my pleading of "cuddle, cuddle"--you are so weak at 2 am. And as the last resort, I will start to like the softness of Huggies again. I mean it lady...I am not joking.
Best,
Rachel Jessica Wang
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Where the hell is Ching in all this? We, actually I, need a change.
Recently, there have been many mornings when I am really perplexed. There are snack dishes in the sink and (separately) there are kids calling for me to help them with additional breakfast, hair brushing, finding socks, etc. Where the hell is Ching in all this? We, actually I, need a change.
With the dishes--it's simple, just bend over, open the dishwasher and put them inside. Is it really that bad? Secretly, is he afraid that there is a little boogieman in there?
With the morning routine--and this one is more important than the first issue--it needs to change. In the past, while I made lunches and got stuff together, Ching would get the girls dressed, eating breakfast and settled while I finished getting ready and then he could get ready. Now, Laurel gets dressed in her room, for privacy, and Rachel screams that "she can do it herself" in regards to dressing and the potty. Since I put out the outfits and breakfast, Ching just gets up with them, puts Peppa Pig on the TV and then goes to get ready. By no means are they settled in front of Peppa. As Ching is leisurely getting just the right knot in his tie, the downstairs is a freakin' circus.
There needs to be a shift and I thought about another way to address this. Rather than be a bull rounding the corner in that china shop, I asked Ching if there was anything that I could do to help him. I was trying to be the bigger person here. I thought this would open some dialogue about sharing responsibility. I know there are things that I could do a little bit better. (Nothing is really coming to mind) But I also know that there may have been things that I didn't want to hear. I was willing to take that chance.
So I ask the question fully knowing that immediately, Ching was either going to mention having another kid or the activity that would lead to having another kid. But he doesn't...he looks confused like I am playing a joke on him. But I let him know that I am being sincere but he walks away, constantly looking behind him for that figurative knife to come crashing down. But no knife...but now he is confused.
Jesus Christ, first dishwasher confusion and now this. I guess I need to be the bull in the china shop.
Saturday, August 10, 2013
But if you call yourself classy, you may not want 69 in your name.
Something odd has happened in my social e-mail. Apparently, my address has been entered, in error, in a Match.com profile for some dude in England. Everyday, I get several notifications that my profile has been viewed or that I have several matches. There is a touch of sentimentality when I see these e-mails since online dating was how Ching and I met. But our meeting was long ago when online dating was so new that rarely would I admit that's how I met him. Also there were no pictures posted--now this seems to be the requirement.
Since I am incredibly nosy and this error seems to be a sign to be a voyeur (and write about it), I thought I would take a peek at someone that has looked at this dude's profile. I came upon a woman who's name is ClassyLady0969. It is obvious to that she is 44 and has a September birthday, but if you call yourself classy, you may not want 69 in your name.
Oh Jesus, she is divorced. Wonder what happened? Was it her? Regardless, she is used baggage. And yes, I know the double edge sword. If she is divorced--used goods. If never married, I assume she is a whack job.
She describes herself as slender and lists all the workouts that she does on a weekly basis. At the end of this list, she pointedly says that she loves to eat out too. Well, if that doesn't scream, "I throw up between the main entree and dessert", I don't know what else would.
ClassyLady works from home and has a flexible schedule--that with the 69 notation in her name makes me guess that she is a hooker but I am critical. Perhaps she is a masseuse.
She likes to travel and she lists the places where she would like to go...and she has some pretty pricey destinations. This chick isn't looking for a special on Expedia.
Classy specifically says that she doesn't smoke. "No Way" is listed next to the smoking question--yeah, this broad bums a Marlboro light after three drinks
And then I take a look at her pictures. Oh no...let's put it this way. Classy takes selfies and posts them on Facebook when she needs a little pick me up.
She doesn't look 44--She looks older to me. Then this just me, not accepting that I am in my 40's. I think this is what 40 looks like.
But she is brave for putting herself out there. I am not sure I could...especially if there were male versions of me out there.
Since I am incredibly nosy and this error seems to be a sign to be a voyeur (and write about it), I thought I would take a peek at someone that has looked at this dude's profile. I came upon a woman who's name is ClassyLady0969. It is obvious to that she is 44 and has a September birthday, but if you call yourself classy, you may not want 69 in your name.
Oh Jesus, she is divorced. Wonder what happened? Was it her? Regardless, she is used baggage. And yes, I know the double edge sword. If she is divorced--used goods. If never married, I assume she is a whack job.
She describes herself as slender and lists all the workouts that she does on a weekly basis. At the end of this list, she pointedly says that she loves to eat out too. Well, if that doesn't scream, "I throw up between the main entree and dessert", I don't know what else would.
ClassyLady works from home and has a flexible schedule--that with the 69 notation in her name makes me guess that she is a hooker but I am critical. Perhaps she is a masseuse.
She likes to travel and she lists the places where she would like to go...and she has some pretty pricey destinations. This chick isn't looking for a special on Expedia.
Classy specifically says that she doesn't smoke. "No Way" is listed next to the smoking question--yeah, this broad bums a Marlboro light after three drinks
And then I take a look at her pictures. Oh no...let's put it this way. Classy takes selfies and posts them on Facebook when she needs a little pick me up.
She doesn't look 44--She looks older to me. Then this just me, not accepting that I am in my 40's. I think this is what 40 looks like.
But she is brave for putting herself out there. I am not sure I could...especially if there were male versions of me out there.
Friday, August 9, 2013
While Laurel is getting dressed and occasionally elbowing me in the ass, I am trying to moisturize. And then the questions/conversation start...
One of the few moments I have to myself is in the morning before anyone else gets up. I get up a little bit before 6:00 a.m. to shower, brush my teeth and put my make up on in peace. Over the past week, Laurel has been waking up before her alarm of 6:24 (don't ask, I can't explain) and she wants to get dressed with me as I get ready.
While Ching and Rachel are still asleep, Laurel and I are crammed in the bathroom that is off of the Wang master suite. Truly crammed since this 3/4 bath is about the size of a handicapped bathroom stall. While Laurel is getting dressed and occasionally elbowing me in the ass, I am trying to moisturize. And then the questions/conversation start:
LAW: I like how you are wearing a robe.
JCW: Well, yeah. I have no idea where this is going.
LAW: You know, once I knocked on the door and peeked in while Daddy was brushing his teeth. He was naked! I just shut the door. I was freaked out.
JCW: This is an absolute lay up of snark but I let it go..for now. Laurel, Daddy would be embarrassed too if you saw him naked. As I am, when I see him naked...enough of letting it go.
LAW: What are you putting on your skin?
JCW: It's called foundation. I have no idea why I am being brief...brevity just leads to more questions.
LAW: Why do you use it?
JCW: Well, it kind of smooths out any mistakes I have in my skin. Skin doesn't always stay pretty when you get older.
LAW: Why are you using a sponge?
JCW: Well, the make up is supposed to cover more smoothly.
LAW: What's that??!!
JCW: It's concealer. It hides my bags.
LAW: What are bags and where did they come from?
JCW: Well it's the skin under my eyes--it tends to look saggy and dark. And where did they come from? Jesus Christ! Does the current inquisition ring a God damn bell? And have you met your little sister recently? She is causing me to age in dog years.
LAW: Why are you sticking that in your eye? Doesn't that hurt?
JCW: It's just a little eyeliner and no it doesn't hurt. Of course, after this beauty regime of 25 years, I may have lost feeling in my eyelids.
LAW: Hey, what are Timex Pearls?
JCW: Oh crap, she sees the party favors. You mean Tampax Pearls? For some reason I think that correcting her will shame her into silence. It doesn't.
LAW: Yeah. I think I remember you were going to tell me but you never did.
JCW: Think quickly...God's it's early. Hey, you know how you said that the thought of puberty freaks you out because you will start to like boys in a way that you don't like?
LAW: Oh, yeah...
JCW: Well, those things in a box are used in puberty...still want to talk about it?
LAW: Oh no...
JCW: Okay. Great! I freaked her out a bit and I didn't even get to the blood part! Hey, I am ready to go downstairs, do you want a waffle with jam?
And there was my quiet time. At least, I did get to shower in peace. Maybe, I should get up a few minutes earlier tomorrow...
While Ching and Rachel are still asleep, Laurel and I are crammed in the bathroom that is off of the Wang master suite. Truly crammed since this 3/4 bath is about the size of a handicapped bathroom stall. While Laurel is getting dressed and occasionally elbowing me in the ass, I am trying to moisturize. And then the questions/conversation start:
LAW: I like how you are wearing a robe.
JCW: Well, yeah. I have no idea where this is going.
LAW: You know, once I knocked on the door and peeked in while Daddy was brushing his teeth. He was naked! I just shut the door. I was freaked out.
JCW: This is an absolute lay up of snark but I let it go..for now. Laurel, Daddy would be embarrassed too if you saw him naked. As I am, when I see him naked...enough of letting it go.
LAW: What are you putting on your skin?
JCW: It's called foundation. I have no idea why I am being brief...brevity just leads to more questions.
LAW: Why do you use it?
JCW: Well, it kind of smooths out any mistakes I have in my skin. Skin doesn't always stay pretty when you get older.
LAW: Why are you using a sponge?
JCW: Well, the make up is supposed to cover more smoothly.
LAW: What's that??!!
JCW: It's concealer. It hides my bags.
LAW: What are bags and where did they come from?
JCW: Well it's the skin under my eyes--it tends to look saggy and dark. And where did they come from? Jesus Christ! Does the current inquisition ring a God damn bell? And have you met your little sister recently? She is causing me to age in dog years.
LAW: Why are you sticking that in your eye? Doesn't that hurt?
JCW: It's just a little eyeliner and no it doesn't hurt. Of course, after this beauty regime of 25 years, I may have lost feeling in my eyelids.
LAW: Hey, what are Timex Pearls?
JCW: Oh crap, she sees the party favors. You mean Tampax Pearls? For some reason I think that correcting her will shame her into silence. It doesn't.
LAW: Yeah. I think I remember you were going to tell me but you never did.
JCW: Think quickly...God's it's early. Hey, you know how you said that the thought of puberty freaks you out because you will start to like boys in a way that you don't like?
LAW: Oh, yeah...
JCW: Well, those things in a box are used in puberty...still want to talk about it?
LAW: Oh no...
JCW: Okay. Great! I freaked her out a bit and I didn't even get to the blood part! Hey, I am ready to go downstairs, do you want a waffle with jam?
And there was my quiet time. At least, I did get to shower in peace. Maybe, I should get up a few minutes earlier tomorrow...
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
I remember looking at her earrings longingly...in a non-creepy way. My earlobes were naked.
Another day...another opportunity to say, "What was I thinking?"
Laurel has been counting down the days for the past six weeks. Today was the day that we could take out her starter earrings (which are nicely conservative) and switch them to something of her choice (which is not conservative).
When she came to me a few months ago, asking for pierced ears, I truly thought about it before automatically saying no. (I guess Rachel does get that from me.) She had friends who wore earrings and she is quite responsible about keeping clean. I just remembered being in school wishing that I too could wear earrings but had to wait until 13. Specifically I remembered the beginning of 7th grade, my friend Sue would double up on dangle earrings like Madonna. The best time to where earrings was when Madonna burst on the scene--I remember looking at her earrings longingly...in a non-creepy way. My earlobes were naked.
If Laurel could take care of her lobes and the jewelry, I felt that she would be okay. She would have to tolerate the brief pinch of the piercings. If she let them close, then so be it.
This sounds simple enough but it wasn't. The earrings went in fine. She took care of them but tonight, we couldn't get them off. I jiggled, twisted, pulled but didn't yank. I tried to focus my strength on these little earrings but it doesn't matter what I can curl--these little freakers weren't coming off.
But one came off! And we rushed into the bathroom to get the new earring in---Laurel seemed to take my "keep earrings in or they will close" seriously. But now Laurel has one conservative gold ball in one ear and one smiley marshmallow in the other. I can't get the last one out but I keep trying. I just keep picturing Sue and her cool earrings. My manicure is ruined. The skin under my thumbnails is bleeding and my finger tips are numb. Laurel finally tells me that she has had enough. She doesn't care what the kids say..she will go to camp with mismatched ear wear.
So my plans for tomorrow night are to rush home, meet Laurel and head over to Claire's. They got the earrings in, they are going to help me get them out. I know I will feel guilty and she will sucker me into another kitschy pair.
Laurel has been counting down the days for the past six weeks. Today was the day that we could take out her starter earrings (which are nicely conservative) and switch them to something of her choice (which is not conservative).
When she came to me a few months ago, asking for pierced ears, I truly thought about it before automatically saying no. (I guess Rachel does get that from me.) She had friends who wore earrings and she is quite responsible about keeping clean. I just remembered being in school wishing that I too could wear earrings but had to wait until 13. Specifically I remembered the beginning of 7th grade, my friend Sue would double up on dangle earrings like Madonna. The best time to where earrings was when Madonna burst on the scene--I remember looking at her earrings longingly...in a non-creepy way. My earlobes were naked.
If Laurel could take care of her lobes and the jewelry, I felt that she would be okay. She would have to tolerate the brief pinch of the piercings. If she let them close, then so be it.
This sounds simple enough but it wasn't. The earrings went in fine. She took care of them but tonight, we couldn't get them off. I jiggled, twisted, pulled but didn't yank. I tried to focus my strength on these little earrings but it doesn't matter what I can curl--these little freakers weren't coming off.
But one came off! And we rushed into the bathroom to get the new earring in---Laurel seemed to take my "keep earrings in or they will close" seriously. But now Laurel has one conservative gold ball in one ear and one smiley marshmallow in the other. I can't get the last one out but I keep trying. I just keep picturing Sue and her cool earrings. My manicure is ruined. The skin under my thumbnails is bleeding and my finger tips are numb. Laurel finally tells me that she has had enough. She doesn't care what the kids say..she will go to camp with mismatched ear wear.
So my plans for tomorrow night are to rush home, meet Laurel and head over to Claire's. They got the earrings in, they are going to help me get them out. I know I will feel guilty and she will sucker me into another kitschy pair.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Candidate #3--I will admit that I looked at your boobs right away and blathered like an idiot.
We had a new babysitter start today. Her name is Whitney and she came over to get acquainted with the girls. So far so good but getting to this point is never easy. Ching weeded our four potential candidates to come over after a successful phone interview. I couldn't help but giggle at those candidates that seemed to put the screws to Ching with hours and rate. They didn't get invited over to the cul-de-sac.
Ching did a lot of this process--he posted the request, he phone interviewed, gave the good news to one and the bad news to the remaining three. But if I had to write a little note to each rejected candidate, this is what I would say.
Candidate #1--I liked you right away to the point of laziness. You answered my questions; you were very smart and you seemed to warm up to the girls. I really didn't see the point in meeting anyone else. But your potential schedule sucks. While it is wonderful that you are getting your MBA full time, next summer you are going to want a demanding internship and this may take you away from us. I hate this process now and really don't want to go through it again next May.
Candidate #2--You were nice but you seemed a little awkward. I am not a people person so if I have to try extra hard in a social situation, and it's not me, I get cranky. I think you relate to children but you couldn't convey this to me. Because of our past with bad boyfriends of nannies, we always have to ask potential candidates of the current health of their relationships. We would like to avoid cops, stalking and car vandalism again. But I do have to apologize for Ching--he kept assuming that you may have a boyfriend. I got the impression that you may not have a boyfriend. Perhaps you have a crush on Portia de Rossi...and there is nothing wrong with that.
Candidate #3--I will admit that I looked at your boobs right away and blathered like an idiot. You are very attractive. While seeing you after a hard day may be depressing, you seemed very warm with the girls. The examples that you gave of how you work with other kids were really good. But, when we asked you about your driving history, I still shake my head with amazement. Yes, it was a little fender bender...yes, perhaps the other driver wanted to make money on the situation, but no, being Mexican has nothing to do with it. Girl, when I ask you a question and you start your answer with, "I am not being racist but"...you are being racist. Better luck next time. (And by the way, Mr Ching Wang said you were very processed looking. I don't care if he was lying to me. It made me feel better.)
I feel good about Whitney--my candidate #4. Her schedule is good. She is very smart and expressive. And thank God...not a peroxide soaked racist. You know, when I think about #3, I have a feeling that Rachel could make her cry and for some reason that warms my heart.
Ching did a lot of this process--he posted the request, he phone interviewed, gave the good news to one and the bad news to the remaining three. But if I had to write a little note to each rejected candidate, this is what I would say.
Candidate #1--I liked you right away to the point of laziness. You answered my questions; you were very smart and you seemed to warm up to the girls. I really didn't see the point in meeting anyone else. But your potential schedule sucks. While it is wonderful that you are getting your MBA full time, next summer you are going to want a demanding internship and this may take you away from us. I hate this process now and really don't want to go through it again next May.
Candidate #2--You were nice but you seemed a little awkward. I am not a people person so if I have to try extra hard in a social situation, and it's not me, I get cranky. I think you relate to children but you couldn't convey this to me. Because of our past with bad boyfriends of nannies, we always have to ask potential candidates of the current health of their relationships. We would like to avoid cops, stalking and car vandalism again. But I do have to apologize for Ching--he kept assuming that you may have a boyfriend. I got the impression that you may not have a boyfriend. Perhaps you have a crush on Portia de Rossi...and there is nothing wrong with that.
Candidate #3--I will admit that I looked at your boobs right away and blathered like an idiot. You are very attractive. While seeing you after a hard day may be depressing, you seemed very warm with the girls. The examples that you gave of how you work with other kids were really good. But, when we asked you about your driving history, I still shake my head with amazement. Yes, it was a little fender bender...yes, perhaps the other driver wanted to make money on the situation, but no, being Mexican has nothing to do with it. Girl, when I ask you a question and you start your answer with, "I am not being racist but"...you are being racist. Better luck next time. (And by the way, Mr Ching Wang said you were very processed looking. I don't care if he was lying to me. It made me feel better.)
I feel good about Whitney--my candidate #4. Her schedule is good. She is very smart and expressive. And thank God...not a peroxide soaked racist. You know, when I think about #3, I have a feeling that Rachel could make her cry and for some reason that warms my heart.
Monday, August 5, 2013
Granted the hospital staff probably didn't need my begging but I am sure they had heard it before my visit.
When the Duchess has little George, there was a bevy of too much information shared. My favorite "breaking news headline" from CNN was that Prince William never left her side and she delivered vaginally. I didn't need to know this especially as I was eating. A few days ago, the news was shared that she gave birth sans any drugs. With that, I thought it was a prime opportunity to makes this about me and educate you on the difference of having a baby with and without an epidural.
When I had Laurel, I was administered an epidural about 90 minutes prior to her birth. I wasn't afraid of the procedure as they could have put the needle in my eye. And quite frankly, I went into the hospital knowing that I wanted the drugs. I didn't feel shame with this notion at all---with this whole experience I wanted an opportunity to gather my thoughts and appreciate the moment. I wasn't into huffing, puffing or focusing. Getting the epidural didn't feel like I was weak. I was quite scared because the pain was overwhelming and I didn't want to feel what it going to be like right at the end. If I didn't get the epidural, I knew that my hospital bill wasn't going to be cheaper and I certainly wasn't going to get a reward. Granted the hospital staff probably didn't need my begging but I am sure they had heard it before my visit. And being in pain like childbirth is like a beer goggling scenario because the anesthesiologist was very attractive when I got the drugs but the next day, not so much.
When Laurel was born, she was healthy but didn't make a lot of noise. She was feeling the effects of the epidural like me. I was trying to breastfeed her and she had a hard time latching on to me. (Again, I was also a novice.) While I wasn't in pain, I did feel like my body was trying to work the drug out of me like a drank a bottle and a half of wine. I didn't want to eat that much which didn't seem weird until I thought about the amount of strength I just experience pushing a small Thanksgiving turkey out of my who-ha. I should have started to eat just to consume calories to make milk. I had no idea that I was going to be a milking machine multiple times a day.
I had no bad side effects with the epidural with Laurel so my intention was to do the same with Rachel. I had a very short labor with Rachel and she was coming out faster than any bad food than I have ever consumed. I had no choice with her about any sort of pain medicine--there was no time. Rachel's birth was going to be au natural. I was petrified because Laurel was a very large baby--if Rachel was the same size and this was going to happen with out drugs, I thought I wasn't going to have feeling for months.
After I had Rachel (who luckily was quite a bit smaller than Laurel), I felt like a super hero that just lifted a car over my head. I was euphoric and ravenous with hunger. Rachel screamed her head off for about an hour and latched on right away. My body had no chemical to work through and I could walk right away. Honestly, I felt like I could have gone right home (after I grabbed that lovely Percoset to stave the soreness away.)
Going drug free the second time around was easy because I had no choice. Also, my labor was quite short so I wasn't exhausted prior to her birth. Again, my hospital bill wasn't cheaper, there was no ribbon rewarding me but I will brag about my drug free birth. It was a personal best.
When I had Laurel, I was administered an epidural about 90 minutes prior to her birth. I wasn't afraid of the procedure as they could have put the needle in my eye. And quite frankly, I went into the hospital knowing that I wanted the drugs. I didn't feel shame with this notion at all---with this whole experience I wanted an opportunity to gather my thoughts and appreciate the moment. I wasn't into huffing, puffing or focusing. Getting the epidural didn't feel like I was weak. I was quite scared because the pain was overwhelming and I didn't want to feel what it going to be like right at the end. If I didn't get the epidural, I knew that my hospital bill wasn't going to be cheaper and I certainly wasn't going to get a reward. Granted the hospital staff probably didn't need my begging but I am sure they had heard it before my visit. And being in pain like childbirth is like a beer goggling scenario because the anesthesiologist was very attractive when I got the drugs but the next day, not so much.
When Laurel was born, she was healthy but didn't make a lot of noise. She was feeling the effects of the epidural like me. I was trying to breastfeed her and she had a hard time latching on to me. (Again, I was also a novice.) While I wasn't in pain, I did feel like my body was trying to work the drug out of me like a drank a bottle and a half of wine. I didn't want to eat that much which didn't seem weird until I thought about the amount of strength I just experience pushing a small Thanksgiving turkey out of my who-ha. I should have started to eat just to consume calories to make milk. I had no idea that I was going to be a milking machine multiple times a day.
I had no bad side effects with the epidural with Laurel so my intention was to do the same with Rachel. I had a very short labor with Rachel and she was coming out faster than any bad food than I have ever consumed. I had no choice with her about any sort of pain medicine--there was no time. Rachel's birth was going to be au natural. I was petrified because Laurel was a very large baby--if Rachel was the same size and this was going to happen with out drugs, I thought I wasn't going to have feeling for months.
After I had Rachel (who luckily was quite a bit smaller than Laurel), I felt like a super hero that just lifted a car over my head. I was euphoric and ravenous with hunger. Rachel screamed her head off for about an hour and latched on right away. My body had no chemical to work through and I could walk right away. Honestly, I felt like I could have gone right home (after I grabbed that lovely Percoset to stave the soreness away.)
Going drug free the second time around was easy because I had no choice. Also, my labor was quite short so I wasn't exhausted prior to her birth. Again, my hospital bill wasn't cheaper, there was no ribbon rewarding me but I will brag about my drug free birth. It was a personal best.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Stick that on your spreadsheet and smoke it.
Just some random morning dialogue between Mr and Mrs Wang in the master bedroom--both are getting dressed for work. They have no idea what the girls are doing but it's quiet and that's good.
JCW: Did you hear the plastic hanger that fell off of your side of the bed in the middle of the night. Dude, why was it there? It startled me.
CCW: I didn't hear it. Funny, I sleep really well after I go to tennis.
JCW: No shit--perhaps you would sleep better if you exercise more regularly. Stick that on your spreadsheet and smoke it.
CCW: I know...
JCW: (Admiring my butt in my pants)...Hey, look how good my ass looks in these pants? Jesus, first of all, what are you thinking? This could be potentially opening Pandora's Box AND get over your ass obsession.
CCW: Yeah...is that suit new?
JCW: Okay, obviously not so good. Kind of...I bought it in April.
CCW: Have you worn any of those suits that Brendi gave you?
JCW: Well, no. Those suits are winter wool suits. I haven't even tried them on yet.
CCW: Right...wool suits being from Maine..sooo cold.
JCW: Yeah, Ching because we are in tropical Massachusetts. Next you are going to make that stupid Maine's state color is plaid. Dude, what is up with your tie? It's the length of a big boy tie that a 6 year old would wear?
CCW: Are you sniffing your clothes?
JCW: (As I am gathering my clothes for my workout), Yes. I did just sniff my clothes--I need to make sure they still smell fresh because they are going to pack a powerful stink post workout.
CCW: I don't get your power of stink when you work out.
JCW: I guess it's a gift. Are you kidding me? The stink that comes out of your ass could shrivel steel. And I work hard at the gym...again, I exercise.
But I leave it at that...because we talk, we chuckle and just appreciate the fact that the girls are still quiet but we do haul ass downstairs since they have been quiet for quite some time.
JCW: Did you hear the plastic hanger that fell off of your side of the bed in the middle of the night. Dude, why was it there? It startled me.
CCW: I didn't hear it. Funny, I sleep really well after I go to tennis.
JCW: No shit--perhaps you would sleep better if you exercise more regularly. Stick that on your spreadsheet and smoke it.
CCW: I know...
JCW: (Admiring my butt in my pants)...Hey, look how good my ass looks in these pants? Jesus, first of all, what are you thinking? This could be potentially opening Pandora's Box AND get over your ass obsession.
CCW: Yeah...is that suit new?
JCW: Okay, obviously not so good. Kind of...I bought it in April.
CCW: Have you worn any of those suits that Brendi gave you?
JCW: Well, no. Those suits are winter wool suits. I haven't even tried them on yet.
CCW: Right...wool suits being from Maine..sooo cold.
JCW: Yeah, Ching because we are in tropical Massachusetts. Next you are going to make that stupid Maine's state color is plaid. Dude, what is up with your tie? It's the length of a big boy tie that a 6 year old would wear?
CCW: Are you sniffing your clothes?
JCW: (As I am gathering my clothes for my workout), Yes. I did just sniff my clothes--I need to make sure they still smell fresh because they are going to pack a powerful stink post workout.
CCW: I don't get your power of stink when you work out.
JCW: I guess it's a gift. Are you kidding me? The stink that comes out of your ass could shrivel steel. And I work hard at the gym...again, I exercise.
But I leave it at that...because we talk, we chuckle and just appreciate the fact that the girls are still quiet but we do haul ass downstairs since they have been quiet for quite some time.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Because I can't turn the clock back, God help me, I entertain the thought of having another child.
I have to remember that this moment is fleeting and I need to be strong and push through.
With Rachel pretty much out of diapers, I am a little sad that there isn't a little person just toddling around. She is getting bigger and bigger and now, just a little girl. There isn't really any baby to her anymore except a slight hint of fat in her cheeks.
This is the point when I want to turn back time and re-appreciate the moments of joy and discovery. Because I can't turn the clock back, God help me, I entertain the thought of having another child. With two out of the baby stage, I am sure I would be better in knowing what to do with a third--practically second nature.
But Jesus Christ, if I can't handle the thought of a dog joining our family, I am sure another Wang would put me over the edge. Physically, I do feel a little older. When I was pregnant with Rachel at 38, I truly thought my knees were going to turn to jelly. And I honestly think my nipples would fall off with a third.
I also have to remind myself that I am awful with babies--in their first year, I probably enjoy about 20 hours--these are those brief naps when the baby sleeps on my chest. Just 20 hours--there are 8,740 more--hours that I don't know what I am doing, hours that I am all alone in the middle of the night with an infant who will not sleep, hours that I am dealing with blowouts, hours when I am just trying to get her to latch on.
I am quite lucky that babies aren't born at 12 months and sleeping through the night. I would probably have a litter of kids.
Right now I tell myself to focus on the here and the now. Rachel's new found independence, her love for telling people that she goes to the airport every weekend (she doesn't) and her silly ways like talking softly so you lean in and then her yelling "mooga, mooga, mooga" as if she is a monster.
I am sure as hell not going to tell Ching my fleeting thought. I would have to sleep with one eye open to make sure he doesn't get too close. And if anything did happen, I would still have to sleep with one eye open because if I made Rachel the middle child, she would be pissed.
With Rachel pretty much out of diapers, I am a little sad that there isn't a little person just toddling around. She is getting bigger and bigger and now, just a little girl. There isn't really any baby to her anymore except a slight hint of fat in her cheeks.
This is the point when I want to turn back time and re-appreciate the moments of joy and discovery. Because I can't turn the clock back, God help me, I entertain the thought of having another child. With two out of the baby stage, I am sure I would be better in knowing what to do with a third--practically second nature.
But Jesus Christ, if I can't handle the thought of a dog joining our family, I am sure another Wang would put me over the edge. Physically, I do feel a little older. When I was pregnant with Rachel at 38, I truly thought my knees were going to turn to jelly. And I honestly think my nipples would fall off with a third.
I also have to remind myself that I am awful with babies--in their first year, I probably enjoy about 20 hours--these are those brief naps when the baby sleeps on my chest. Just 20 hours--there are 8,740 more--hours that I don't know what I am doing, hours that I am all alone in the middle of the night with an infant who will not sleep, hours that I am dealing with blowouts, hours when I am just trying to get her to latch on.
I am quite lucky that babies aren't born at 12 months and sleeping through the night. I would probably have a litter of kids.
Right now I tell myself to focus on the here and the now. Rachel's new found independence, her love for telling people that she goes to the airport every weekend (she doesn't) and her silly ways like talking softly so you lean in and then her yelling "mooga, mooga, mooga" as if she is a monster.
I am sure as hell not going to tell Ching my fleeting thought. I would have to sleep with one eye open to make sure he doesn't get too close. And if anything did happen, I would still have to sleep with one eye open because if I made Rachel the middle child, she would be pissed.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Who is a bitch to Huggies? Not this chick!
I have some good news!! I have wanted to announce this over the past week but didn't want to jinx it. Rachel is using the potty!! Who is a bitch to Huggies? Not this chick!
This was our seventh attempt and it started out like a regular Sunday, every 10 minutes on her little potty. When she peed successfully, I thought it was a fluke, since I make her sit there for 15 minutes and give her my phone for entertainment. That day, we had a couple of successes and a couple of pairs of wet shorts. But she started to apologize to me for have the accident. Yes, there was the shame! (Please keep in mind I didn't say this out loud)
When she went to school, little by little (over the past 5 days) she was peeing on the potty more and having less accidents. Looking back, this actually happened quite quickly but in the moment I was trying to figure out when I was going to go to Costco/Target for my next supply of Huggies. But then there was a day of no accidents and then another, and another.
The pride in her face is amazing. She will tell anyone that she pees on the potty like a big girl and her favorite undies are the ones with Dora. Thankfully, she started pooping on the potty too. Because she wasn't as sure about the poop as the pee, she would just hold it for days. After awhile she would dart back and forth (kind of like a fly caught in a lamp) and ask for a diaper...because that is where you poop. But last night she had enough of that and told me that she just pooped on the potty in a very matter of fact way.
She didn't take advantage of any sort of bribe...she just did this when she was ready. She likes to say that she will "try later" a lot. She likes to count up to 20 before she flushes...except the automatic flush in Bertucci's, that figuratively scared the crap out of her.
I hope she can see my pride in my face too but also I am a little sad. She is not a toddler anymore, she is just a young girl. Actually a young girls that isn't very tall, so she needs to step up on a stool to sit on the big girl potty (with a special Dora seat). I am so afraid she is going to fall in...if that happens, different blog, different day.
This was our seventh attempt and it started out like a regular Sunday, every 10 minutes on her little potty. When she peed successfully, I thought it was a fluke, since I make her sit there for 15 minutes and give her my phone for entertainment. That day, we had a couple of successes and a couple of pairs of wet shorts. But she started to apologize to me for have the accident. Yes, there was the shame! (Please keep in mind I didn't say this out loud)
When she went to school, little by little (over the past 5 days) she was peeing on the potty more and having less accidents. Looking back, this actually happened quite quickly but in the moment I was trying to figure out when I was going to go to Costco/Target for my next supply of Huggies. But then there was a day of no accidents and then another, and another.
The pride in her face is amazing. She will tell anyone that she pees on the potty like a big girl and her favorite undies are the ones with Dora. Thankfully, she started pooping on the potty too. Because she wasn't as sure about the poop as the pee, she would just hold it for days. After awhile she would dart back and forth (kind of like a fly caught in a lamp) and ask for a diaper...because that is where you poop. But last night she had enough of that and told me that she just pooped on the potty in a very matter of fact way.
She didn't take advantage of any sort of bribe...she just did this when she was ready. She likes to say that she will "try later" a lot. She likes to count up to 20 before she flushes...except the automatic flush in Bertucci's, that figuratively scared the crap out of her.
I hope she can see my pride in my face too but also I am a little sad. She is not a toddler anymore, she is just a young girl. Actually a young girls that isn't very tall, so she needs to step up on a stool to sit on the big girl potty (with a special Dora seat). I am so afraid she is going to fall in...if that happens, different blog, different day.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
While it was pretty ballsy on his part, I actually appreciated the fact that the only input he wanted was my color choice.
All week, I have dreaded this afternoon. I would rather have a pap smear. Ching and I went to look and test drive a couple of cars.
The thought of spending money on a car when I just want to get to point B from A. For several years, while in the city, I didn't own a car. Ching and I bought our first car a year before we were married. While Ching and I bought the car together, he actually made the decision by himself. While it was pretty ballsy on his part, I actually appreciated the fact that the only input he wanted was my color choice.
When Rachel was born, we decided to become a two car family. We test drove a couple types of Subarus and a Honda. I was so leaky and depressed that just test driving these cars with Ching in the passenger side and some guy in the back was incredibly overwhelming. Just the choice of color made me want to cry. While I was physically present, I had nothing to do with the decision.
Quite frankly, I would have loved for Ching to make this car decision too. The lease was up with the CRV and we didn't like it enough to buy it. The only input I had on the new car was that I wanted the pick up to be less geriatric. When I press on the gas, I don't want the car to think about--I have ninja like reflexes on the Mass Pike. I need a car to match that.
As I am sure you can imagine, when looking at cars, Ching needs to set up a chart/spreadsheet of about five to seven choices. They all look the same to me and this time I just went with his first choice with was the Nissan Murano. The second choice was a Toyota Highlander. We are looking for more room in the back. (One car seat, one booster and a friend in the middle...let me stress, friend. My looking for more room doesn't mean that my uterus is open for business.)
Oh, Christ, then I have to test drive it. I wish I could just do this alone. It's not like I am going to steal this car...I have seen the show, Orange is the New Black. One of my biggest fears is being thrown into the klink and having to dodge of fat woman named Tiny who wants to be my girlfriend. Regardless, I have Ching and his silent judgement in the front seat and some creepy silent guy named Andy in the plastic covered back seat. It is probably redundant to mention but I am pitting down to my waist.
Surprisingly, I was able to make happy, coherent chit chat even when Ching went in and looked at the trunk while the trunk door was being lowered. And I was worried about looking like the jackass.
Then we get back to the desk to discuss options, payments, deals, etc. They try to do the hard sell, Ching has to whip out his phone/spreadsheet and I tune out. I have done my part--he knows that I like this car.
While they are appraising the CRV (apparently there is a potential credit since we are low on mileage), Ching and I toss around the idea of adding an entertainment system for the girls. There are options to add little screens behind the driver headrests but I nix that. The is the last thing they need. The girls have never known a non-AC car, a windows with a crank handle or a standard transmission (because of Mr. Ching Wang).
Since the girls have now infiltrated my mind, I think of what interior will camouflage crushed cookies and juice stains. I think of how long I will actually smell the new car smell before it's overtaken by kid smell.
Is it bad that I kind of want a two seater now or want them to run along the side?
The thought of spending money on a car when I just want to get to point B from A. For several years, while in the city, I didn't own a car. Ching and I bought our first car a year before we were married. While Ching and I bought the car together, he actually made the decision by himself. While it was pretty ballsy on his part, I actually appreciated the fact that the only input he wanted was my color choice.
When Rachel was born, we decided to become a two car family. We test drove a couple types of Subarus and a Honda. I was so leaky and depressed that just test driving these cars with Ching in the passenger side and some guy in the back was incredibly overwhelming. Just the choice of color made me want to cry. While I was physically present, I had nothing to do with the decision.
Quite frankly, I would have loved for Ching to make this car decision too. The lease was up with the CRV and we didn't like it enough to buy it. The only input I had on the new car was that I wanted the pick up to be less geriatric. When I press on the gas, I don't want the car to think about--I have ninja like reflexes on the Mass Pike. I need a car to match that.
As I am sure you can imagine, when looking at cars, Ching needs to set up a chart/spreadsheet of about five to seven choices. They all look the same to me and this time I just went with his first choice with was the Nissan Murano. The second choice was a Toyota Highlander. We are looking for more room in the back. (One car seat, one booster and a friend in the middle...let me stress, friend. My looking for more room doesn't mean that my uterus is open for business.)
Oh, Christ, then I have to test drive it. I wish I could just do this alone. It's not like I am going to steal this car...I have seen the show, Orange is the New Black. One of my biggest fears is being thrown into the klink and having to dodge of fat woman named Tiny who wants to be my girlfriend. Regardless, I have Ching and his silent judgement in the front seat and some creepy silent guy named Andy in the plastic covered back seat. It is probably redundant to mention but I am pitting down to my waist.
Surprisingly, I was able to make happy, coherent chit chat even when Ching went in and looked at the trunk while the trunk door was being lowered. And I was worried about looking like the jackass.
Then we get back to the desk to discuss options, payments, deals, etc. They try to do the hard sell, Ching has to whip out his phone/spreadsheet and I tune out. I have done my part--he knows that I like this car.
While they are appraising the CRV (apparently there is a potential credit since we are low on mileage), Ching and I toss around the idea of adding an entertainment system for the girls. There are options to add little screens behind the driver headrests but I nix that. The is the last thing they need. The girls have never known a non-AC car, a windows with a crank handle or a standard transmission (because of Mr. Ching Wang).
Since the girls have now infiltrated my mind, I think of what interior will camouflage crushed cookies and juice stains. I think of how long I will actually smell the new car smell before it's overtaken by kid smell.
Is it bad that I kind of want a two seater now or want them to run along the side?
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Perhaps I over shared with this response, "Hell, yeah I am buying these pants. My ass looks amazing!"
I was trapped and I didn't know what I was going to do.
3 weeks ago
I walked into a LuluLemon store for the first time. I have always thought there stuff was overpriced. And then those bags that people carry that had LL merchandise inside with those weird sayings are so obnoxious. But with the Barre classes and trying to improve my physique, I was curious about this brand that I frequently see. I tried on these pants and was amazed. The LL employee asked me if I was going to purchase them. Perhaps I over shared with this response, "Hell, yeah I am buying these pants. My ass looks amazing!"
8 days ago
Still pleased with my pants purchase, I checked out any sale items on the LuluLemon site. There were these tops that had a shelf bra sewn inside. So for the sale price of $29, I could get both a top and a sports bra in one. There was also a mention of the fabric letting go of sweaty odor--Lord knows that I need that. I thought it was a good deal even though I was now sucked into this brand.
Today
Yesterday, I got my new tops so today, I wanted to wear one during my run. Not sure if it was the top, but I had an excellent 3 mile run. Out of 32 minutes, 24 was done on an incline. Needless to say, I got quite sweaty, looked at the clock and knew I had to haul ass to get back upstairs to my desk.
But then as I am in the locker room, I realize that I am in trouble. I am trapped and I am not sure what I am going to do. I can't get my top off. This wasn't a top that I could pull the straps down, push and step out of it. I have to pull it over my head and it is impossible to do this with all the sweat. I can only get it half way off. I had to think this through so I try to put it back on...I can't do that either. So now I am standing there in the locker room, thankfully alone but trapped in a discounted LuluLemon top, boobs half in, half out. Should I call someone upstairs to help me get this off? I would have to warn them for what they would see...you know, the wonkiness and the fact that my girls like to feed on the left over the right. I didn't feel like calling anyone so I just wiggled and wormed my way out of the top all the while praying that no one walked in during my escape. This took about 3 minutes. Perhaps I just need some practice.
Jesus Christ, trapped by a brand. Ridic....
3 weeks ago
I walked into a LuluLemon store for the first time. I have always thought there stuff was overpriced. And then those bags that people carry that had LL merchandise inside with those weird sayings are so obnoxious. But with the Barre classes and trying to improve my physique, I was curious about this brand that I frequently see. I tried on these pants and was amazed. The LL employee asked me if I was going to purchase them. Perhaps I over shared with this response, "Hell, yeah I am buying these pants. My ass looks amazing!"
8 days ago
Still pleased with my pants purchase, I checked out any sale items on the LuluLemon site. There were these tops that had a shelf bra sewn inside. So for the sale price of $29, I could get both a top and a sports bra in one. There was also a mention of the fabric letting go of sweaty odor--Lord knows that I need that. I thought it was a good deal even though I was now sucked into this brand.
Today
Yesterday, I got my new tops so today, I wanted to wear one during my run. Not sure if it was the top, but I had an excellent 3 mile run. Out of 32 minutes, 24 was done on an incline. Needless to say, I got quite sweaty, looked at the clock and knew I had to haul ass to get back upstairs to my desk.
But then as I am in the locker room, I realize that I am in trouble. I am trapped and I am not sure what I am going to do. I can't get my top off. This wasn't a top that I could pull the straps down, push and step out of it. I have to pull it over my head and it is impossible to do this with all the sweat. I can only get it half way off. I had to think this through so I try to put it back on...I can't do that either. So now I am standing there in the locker room, thankfully alone but trapped in a discounted LuluLemon top, boobs half in, half out. Should I call someone upstairs to help me get this off? I would have to warn them for what they would see...you know, the wonkiness and the fact that my girls like to feed on the left over the right. I didn't feel like calling anyone so I just wiggled and wormed my way out of the top all the while praying that no one walked in during my escape. This took about 3 minutes. Perhaps I just need some practice.
Jesus Christ, trapped by a brand. Ridic....
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Let's grill a wiener, shall we?
Let's grill a wiener, shall we?
In case you live under a rock, Anthony Wiener has been caught again sending explicit texts with pictures (of his Weiner). The first time, got him escorted out of Congress. Now, after counseling, he is running for New York City mayor and still texting like he is a well renown porn star on the keyboard. His wife has stood by him through both ordeals.
With that summation, all sorts of things are going through my mind. First of all, he won't exit the mayoral race. Does he actually think he is going to win. What type of credibility does he have? (The texts weren't even good--it's like he read 50 Shades of Grey before starting.) Can you imagine being in a meeting with him wondering how many texts he could have sent during his work day. Is he actually thinking about the topic at hand or his boner? Imagine what the must call him behind his back.
Then I find myself judging not the crime itself but the fact that he was stupid enough to get caught, not once but twice! I have to get this thought out of my head because I feel like I am excusing the actual act of stupidity.
And then the wife...holy shit. She is a smart, well educated woman. I respect that she is committed to the marriage--this is a prime example of better or worse. But how much can she take before losing respect for herself? And how can she turn to her friends and family? I would think that her outward support for the Wien is easier to do for a crowd that she doesn't know as opposed to friends and family.
I then question what I would do if the Wang started acting like the Wien. I do believe in the sanctity of marriage and working on it but I can hear my mother's voice going "Once a cheater, always a cheater." And if I did try to work on the relationship, how in God's name would I be able to bring my husband home? My sister, a Cross Fit fanatic, can hug so strong and hard that you feel like a rib is being cracked. And that is when she LIKES you. My mom..well, she reads and gardens a lot. I am sure that my man would suffer at her hands by ingesting something that would make him vomit a whole lot.
I truly don't know what I would do. Would I demand a Kobe Bryant type infidelity jewel or walk away cleanly with half like Elin? I don't think that I could get past the bad literary text porn and wiener showing. Ching and I are not allowed to bring up past issues in current arguments. If he pissed me off in 2006, that is not fair game to bring it up in 2012. This type of thing would fester...yeah, I think I would have to walk away.
And I would totally be turned off my hot dogs....
In case you live under a rock, Anthony Wiener has been caught again sending explicit texts with pictures (of his Weiner). The first time, got him escorted out of Congress. Now, after counseling, he is running for New York City mayor and still texting like he is a well renown porn star on the keyboard. His wife has stood by him through both ordeals.
With that summation, all sorts of things are going through my mind. First of all, he won't exit the mayoral race. Does he actually think he is going to win. What type of credibility does he have? (The texts weren't even good--it's like he read 50 Shades of Grey before starting.) Can you imagine being in a meeting with him wondering how many texts he could have sent during his work day. Is he actually thinking about the topic at hand or his boner? Imagine what the must call him behind his back.
Then I find myself judging not the crime itself but the fact that he was stupid enough to get caught, not once but twice! I have to get this thought out of my head because I feel like I am excusing the actual act of stupidity.
And then the wife...holy shit. She is a smart, well educated woman. I respect that she is committed to the marriage--this is a prime example of better or worse. But how much can she take before losing respect for herself? And how can she turn to her friends and family? I would think that her outward support for the Wien is easier to do for a crowd that she doesn't know as opposed to friends and family.
I then question what I would do if the Wang started acting like the Wien. I do believe in the sanctity of marriage and working on it but I can hear my mother's voice going "Once a cheater, always a cheater." And if I did try to work on the relationship, how in God's name would I be able to bring my husband home? My sister, a Cross Fit fanatic, can hug so strong and hard that you feel like a rib is being cracked. And that is when she LIKES you. My mom..well, she reads and gardens a lot. I am sure that my man would suffer at her hands by ingesting something that would make him vomit a whole lot.
I truly don't know what I would do. Would I demand a Kobe Bryant type infidelity jewel or walk away cleanly with half like Elin? I don't think that I could get past the bad literary text porn and wiener showing. Ching and I are not allowed to bring up past issues in current arguments. If he pissed me off in 2006, that is not fair game to bring it up in 2012. This type of thing would fester...yeah, I think I would have to walk away.
And I would totally be turned off my hot dogs....
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
My tone and body language does not give the impression that a stuffed animal is missing.
I had a code red situation yesterday...no, it didn't involve white pants and some bitch named Flo...this was something much bigger. On Friday night, Rachel did not have her beloved Baby Bear. Since I didn't do pick up or drop off, I assumed that BB was left at school. As a parent, I do what I do best and lie to Rachel about the whereabouts of BB. I tell her that he is safe with her favorite teacher over the weekend.
Since it was the weekend, I had to make sure she had a substitute for that mangy, smelly bear (imagine, sleeping on a pillowcase that hasn't been washed in about eight months). Always one step ahead, offering a solution before she even knows what is missing. I do consider myself lucky because she recently acquired a very large Minnie Mouse that has her attention. (That's right, Rachel will temporarily kick BB to the curb if she has something shiny and new.) This song and dance seemed ridiculous but I knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The Wangs were going to get Baby Bear back on Monday.
As everyone is getting ready to walk about the door to either work, camp or daycare, Ching drops this bomb.
CCW: "I don't think Baby Bear is at school."
JCW: This is what assuming gets me. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE ISN'T AT SCHOOL!?"
My tone and body language does not give the impression that a stuffed animal is missing. It sounds like I caught him cheating or straying from the spreadsheet.
True to his weasly confession, BB was not at school and I am panicked. We have lost valuable time. Ching and I could have backtracked all weekend, taken ransom notes, posted flyers, etc. I just wanted this bear back for my girl. Ching senses my panic, truly thinks and realizes that the bear was left on the playground at Laurel's summer camp. He called and confirmed that they had him. I was also hoping they brought him inside prior to Sunday's downpour.
Rachel was so happy when she got Baby Bear back. (The new Minnie Mouse has been kicked to the side.) The look on her face was priceless and the sense of relief that I felt for this frickin' bear makes me realize that I am due for a serious vacation.
Since it was the weekend, I had to make sure she had a substitute for that mangy, smelly bear (imagine, sleeping on a pillowcase that hasn't been washed in about eight months). Always one step ahead, offering a solution before she even knows what is missing. I do consider myself lucky because she recently acquired a very large Minnie Mouse that has her attention. (That's right, Rachel will temporarily kick BB to the curb if she has something shiny and new.) This song and dance seemed ridiculous but I knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The Wangs were going to get Baby Bear back on Monday.
As everyone is getting ready to walk about the door to either work, camp or daycare, Ching drops this bomb.
CCW: "I don't think Baby Bear is at school."
JCW: This is what assuming gets me. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE ISN'T AT SCHOOL!?"
My tone and body language does not give the impression that a stuffed animal is missing. It sounds like I caught him cheating or straying from the spreadsheet.
True to his weasly confession, BB was not at school and I am panicked. We have lost valuable time. Ching and I could have backtracked all weekend, taken ransom notes, posted flyers, etc. I just wanted this bear back for my girl. Ching senses my panic, truly thinks and realizes that the bear was left on the playground at Laurel's summer camp. He called and confirmed that they had him. I was also hoping they brought him inside prior to Sunday's downpour.
Rachel was so happy when she got Baby Bear back. (The new Minnie Mouse has been kicked to the side.) The look on her face was priceless and the sense of relief that I felt for this frickin' bear makes me realize that I am due for a serious vacation.
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