As I am shoveling the muffin in my face at around 9:20, I always tell myself that it is ridiculous to eat something that decadent.

I am not Catholic even though you may think that I am with the amount of guilt that I usually feel during the day.  For me, there was nothing that I gave up for Lent..  I know this is the homestretch for some that gave up meat on Fridays, candy or chocolate.  I know one person that gave up elevators and only uses the stairs.  I am sure it sounded like a nice thought but after the third day,  working on the 8th floor was more difficult that she had anticipated.

I think about what I would give up for Lent.  The obvious would be the "glug glug" of the vodka or my smokes (if I smoked).  But those things are habits that you may not want to go back to if you quit even for a short amount of time.  Perhaps it's sacrilege but I think of Lent as being something to give up for a small amount of time but then it's open season (on that bag of M&M's or side of beef) once that window of time has closed.  So I think of things that I could give up for a few weeks.  This is what I came up with:

1.  Chocolate Chip Muffins:  Every morning with my large coffee I pick up a chocolate chip muffin.  And it's not a dainty muffin either--I believe it would be known as super sized in the baked goods world.  I started to getting them on a whim and even thought they were too sweet.  But now it's a daily occurrence.  Basically I am eating cake for breakfast.  And my justification is that 1.) This is just like a donut and 2.) I am running at lunch.  But then, as I am shoveling the muffin in my face at around 9:20, I always tell myself that it is ridiculous to eat something that decadent.  Also, I am afraid a co-worker is going to catch me during mid-shovel.

2.  Gossip/Pop Culture Websites:  You name it, I read it--People, Us Weekly, Radar Online, Entertainment Weekly, Perez Hilton to name a few.  I think it dumbs me down AND I tell people about what I read like it's real news that could affect the world!  I truly believe that the days that I am so busy and can't regularly check are better days.  My mind is free of mindless chatter.  But regardless, it pulls me in...and I usually feel dirty after the fact.

3.  Games on my Phone:  There have been many a night when I go to bed at 9:30 but the lights don't go out until 11:00 because I am playing Bubble Mania!  I feel like a hypocrite because I am the first person to give an eye roll when I see scores and levels of Candy Crush and Wheel of Fortune on Facebook.  I am doing the same but I hide it.  I even spend money to buy more balls or jewels to get to the next level.  I give myself a break on Scrabble because I think that I am exercising my brain...as I put the word "dirt" on the board.  Real smart, JCW. Reading about Taylor Swift's bitchiness just to find the word "dirt" in severn random letters.  I need to stop playing and pick up a book.

Terrible, terrible habits.  I just need to bite the bullet and stop these things or get a nun to hit my knuckles with a ruler when I don't.

I will admit that this wasn't the first time but this kick in the head really sunk in and got me mad.

Last night was one of the worst nights I have had as a mother.  It wasn't quite as bad as that first night home with your child...you know, when you are pleading with the sun not to set...but it ranks right up there.  At 12:17, Laurel came into our bedroom to cuddle up but we needed to turn her away.  The night before, Laurel came into our bed.  By the end of the night, Laurel was laying horizontal to Ching and my vertical.  While Ching got Laurel's cute head resting on his chest, I got her feet near my head.  And then I was kicked in the head.  I will admit that this wasn't the first time but this kick in the head really sunk in and got me mad.  She needs to sleep in her own bed!

But at 12:17, turning her away, I feel terrible.  Ching walks her to her room.  (He gets up--he feels guilty about the kick in the head.)  I hear her tell herself not to cry.  I, then, hear her start to cry.  There is a huge difference between a toddler crying in the middle of the night and a 7 year old.  With a toddler, you brush it off as a lesson in self soothing.  But with a 7 year old, I feel like I am doing something so bad.  I also know that Laurel is going to remember this.  I say all these silent prayers for her to get to sleep.  I don't want her to cry and feel like we didn't want her.  (Tonight, I thoroughly stress how much I love her...and I would love her more if she stayed in her own bed.)

I don't know one person who likes not being able to sleep in the middle of the night.  It's so quiet and creepy.  Every creak in a older house with character freaks the shit out of me.  (I need to stop watching Criminal Minds.)

Laurel doesn't get back to sleep for two hours.  I don't sleep at all during these two hours.  This is the time of night that every set of parents become more critical of each other so I fake sleep.  I have no urge to seek comfort in Ching or listen to something that apparently I have done wrong.  So I lay there, hoping she understands.  Also I calculate in my head how much more I should save for Christmas.  If she is like me she may milk this one.

I do believe we are doing this for her own good.  She has to stop sleeping with us.  Days would turn into months, months turn into years and then the future Mr Laurel Wang would find it really awkward to sleep next to Ching.  He will go running into the night as soon as the snoring and gas starts.

I have a feeling that you don't touch paste, do you?

Laurel is not a genius.  She is smart, creative, independent but not a prodigy. Remind me of this when I put some obnoxious post about her academic prowess on Facebook years from now.  (All A's and just 1 B is not all A's!)  But as I go into Laurel's spring parent teacher conference, I am curious if the teacher thinks that I may think Laurel is a genius.  I wonder what she thinks...and then the dueling unspoken thoughts go back and forth.  (The role of Laurel's teacher will be known as "H"--her first name is Heidi.)

JCW:  Just pop your head in casually--stay cool, remain cool.  You're freakin' cool!

H:  Oh great another one...hopefully with this, one I am half way through the list.

JCW:  Okay, bring up Ching's question...put the blame on him and his love of overachievers.  Laurel's lack of 4's on her report card.  All 3's and not a single 4 that would signify an excelled effort and level.  Again, blame him and throw in a CCW fat joke for good measure. Jesus Christ, she didn't even laugh.  Maybe Laurel is right.  You probably never smile!

H:  Of course, that freakin' 4 vs 3 explanation.  I am going to kill the administration for that measuring stick.  Where the hell are they when I have to explain it?

JCW:  If you can only give one subject out of several (subjects) a 4, shouldn't that be stated somewhere on the report?  Whatever, thank you for explaining it to me so I can repeat to my old man.  Gee, that's a nice cashmere wrap sweater.  I thought first grader teachers got down and dirty with the  kids.  I have a feeling that you don't touch paste, do you?

H: I think I have to throw her a bone after that 3 vs. 4.  I do like Laurel.  She is helpful and she isn't shitty like some of these kids in here.  But she does want to just tell you the right answer rather than express what she thinks.  Wow..that screams adolescence psychosis.  You might as well buy her the laxatives now.

JCW:  Enough. I saw your girls dressed in cheer leading outfits--in kindergarten!

H: Look,  I am not going to gush over your daughter.

JCW: God, I just wish you would smile a bit more.  You seem so cold.  I mean, Christ, I am not a hugger but you couldn't even fake a hug, if you tried.

H: Speaking of cold, didn't you send your daughter in here with one a week ago AND a fever?

JCW:  How do I make sure that Laurel has someone "warmer" next year?

H:      Feel free and name a teacher...you will just go on the list of pain in the ass parents.

JCW: I was raised in a faculty/staff room of an elementary school--this isn't my first rodeo.  I know I shouldn't name teachers, just a specified style.

H:      As you wish...

JCW:  Oh, I will....

Well that seemed to go pretty well....

There is a world of difference between a time when most people are still awake and the dead of night.

During the first week of my blog, I wrote about feeling like a second class citizen in my own home. (12/13/11, Ma'am, Your Seat is in the Back)  There are some days that I think that I sounded like a big bitch baby.  But then there are nights like a couple of nights ago.  As Ching was going to bed on Thursday after being away for a few nights, I explained that Laurel had slept on his side (of the bed).  She wanted to make sure that I wasn't lonely.  I told him that I was pretty sure that she would show up on my side during the night but he assured me that he would get up, go to the den and sleep in the guest bed.  I could remain undisturbed.  Sounds nice now but there is a world of difference between a time when most people are still awake and the dead of night.

Sure as shit, at 12:17, Laurel was on my side (of the bed) looking to get in.  Trying to get Ching to keep his word, I do that "yell whisper" to get him up and into the den.  I can't wake him up (and I hope to God for his sake that he isn't faking) so I get up and go into the den.  Ching remains undisturbed and Laurel takes my side.

I crawl into bed (in the den) and hope for 5.5 hours of undisturbed sleep.  But nope, it's gets better.  At 3:00, I hear Rachel mewing.  Usually she goes right back to sleep but tonight, she does not.  There is something about a crying toddler in the middle of the night.  I am sure there are parents like me that go into their child's room, not to help them try to get back to sleep on their own but just to get them back to sleep.  If that means picking them up and taking them back to bed, then so be it.  After some whining she specifically calls for me and says, "cuddle, cuddle".  Oh crap.  So I get her and take her back to the bed that I am sleeping in which, again, is in the den.  Very clearly, she says no.  She wants her dad.  I tell her no, she can cuddle, cuddle with me.  "Pllleeeeezze?" she asks.  Rachel just got me to come get her to bring her to her dad.  Well, who looks like an idiot now?  So I bring her to Ching and HE SITS UP because apparently he has heard the whole thing but remained in bed.

While I should think that it's a precious site of Rachel in the middle cuddled up to Laurel and Ching, I don't.  I am annoyed.  One kid kicks me out of my side and the other treats me like her little bitch...luring me in to get her and then demanding her daddy.   If I had the stones, I would leave right then and there and go to the Four Seasons.  But I don't...in a few hours, I am up making those lunches.

Mother's Day is 50 days away.  And God help me, I am going to milk it for every ounce that it's worth.

I don't want to know if you screw like bunnies or sleep in separate beds.

Well, the favorite Wang is back from Florida.*  As Ching took them out to dinner to give me some space, I stopped into Whole Foods to get some sushi.  As I was also picking up my favorite magazine, I saw the recent cover of People.  It's the blond bachelor with his chosen chick (who looks kind of dirty) claiming that they are waiting until marriage.  I squint at the cover and then roll my eyes.  I don't read the article, I just cast judgment.

First of all, I don't want to know about some one's sex life---I don't care if you are pretty or gross.  Honestly, if you are pretty, I will be jealous and if you are gross, I will be nauseous.   I don't want to know if you screw like bunnies or sleep in separate beds.  I don't care what turns you on or off.  Please keep it to yourself--sometimes, less is more.

Secondly, why in God's name would you wait?  I am firmly in the camp that if you are buying a car, it needs to have a test drive.  I know that sex is a major part of a relationship---what if it's always bad?  This isn't the movies when magically everything is better.  Marriage takes work and I can't imagine "making sex better" on the list of tasks to work on.

I am not going to tell my girls to go out and have tons of sex.  But I am not going to yell with a shrill voice to stay away from that one eyed snake.  I am going to guide them as much as possible and assume that they will make good choices mixed in with some utterly stupid mistakes (after the age of 22).  Regardless of what I tell them , Rachel will do the opposite.

Getting back to those people on magazine cover, honestly, I don't think they are really going to wait.  Like I said...she looks dirty and I think she needs more than soap.

*Listen to this one.  As I am driving Ching home from the airport, he told me that he couldn't get up this morning so he skipped the first workshop.  He wasn't sick or hungover...he just was really, really tired.  So after 3 glorious nights at a very nice hotel with pristine, baby soft linens, he was too tired to get out of bed at 6:40.  I feel like I should start popping the corn now.  Tomorrow morning is going to be quite a show.

Before I make this pretty harsh statement, I want you to know that I am totally clear headed...no chardonnay breath...

Before I make this pretty harsh statement, I want you to know that I am totally clear headed, no chardonnay breath, no Citron buzz...sober as a judge. Here it goes: If Ching ever leaves me and I have to assume the single mother role, I will hunt him down and kill him.

The last three days (going into the forth) haven't been bad.  I can do it (parent alone) I just don't want to.  Beep and Blare (I mean, Laurel and Rachel) were fed regularly--not the best meals that contain four food groups but they went to bed full.  We all made it to our destinations this morning in clean clothes albeit a little late.  And the house is mess...but it's still standing.

Weeks ago, when Ching told me that he was going to this conference in Florida (I would have felt better if it were in Detroit), immediately he wanted to know if my mom could come down to help.  I shouldn't need my mom to mother my own children alone.  While she is a very good resource, I like to use her when we absolutely need her like when one of the girls is sick.  I don't want to use my imagined allotment just so Ching can ease his mind of any guilt because I am home with his children and  he is bellying up to some buffet for the third time.

While I am in the home stretch, I am tired. (That freakin' snowstorm didn't help.) I don't know how single moms do it.  Tonight, with Ching coming back tomorrow evening, I feel like that junior high girl looking the clock, willing the parents to come home early so I can take my sitter fee and get the hell away from those damn kids.  And these are my kids!  Tonight, I got both girls before six but I did forget my wallet as I went to pick up dinner therefore two trips were needed.  Rachel got poop on my clothes.  It didn't seem like a big deal ( it's just poop) until Laurel looked at me and told me that "she seriously felt bad for me."  And this was the third night in a row that Rachel cried for her daddy when I put her to bed.  Obviously she has a favorite.

I am just looking forward to a little alone time..perhaps and hour or two.  That alone time as I shoveled the driveway so didn't count.

When I was childless, I never looked at parents thinking they particularly looked refreshed.

I can't get off this topic...last week with that dope (yeah, I am resulting in name calling) talking about "leaning in" and women doing more, it seems that this subject was a catalyst to other family issues.  On MSNBC, there was an article of parents of young children stressed about "having it all" and they feel "rushed".  Ho-ly Crap.  This is news?  Apparently, Lindsey Lohan had a very quiet night.

First of all, the obvious is staring me right in the face, not sure about you but these parents complaining, "have it all."  Regardless of your definition (of having it all), that's pretty freakin' good if you ask me.  Perhaps, if it's that bad, maybe they can cut back but there are aspects of their life that they probably cannot.  That aspect is the parenting part---God, just woman up and plod forward.  Are these complainers telling me that they went into "parenting" thinking that they wouldn't feel rushed most times?  Did they think they would feel rested?  When I was childless, I never looked at parents thinking they particularly looked refreshed.  I do remember distinctly realizing that I wouldn't have a lot of time on the weekends for myself so I better get used to not showering and wearing either a ponytail or a headband.

The article that got me so riled wasn't even a good one.  It was full of statistical filler from a study by a firm called Pew (as in stink).  There was constant listing of age groups and genders with comparing percentages of not being pleased with the amount of time they work as opposed to parent.  First men spent 43 hours working outside the home while women in the same age group spent on 33.  Women wanting to work outside the home increased to 29% from 22% in 2007, etc.  I got incredibly confused by the back and forth until I got a laugh at the group of women who (20%) said that didn't want to work at all as parents.  Yeah, okay...good luck with that one.

Today, I was home with my girls due to a snowstorm.  I couldn't start the snow blower so I had to manually shovel a heavy snow/slush.  I attempted to get (outside) work done on my laptop while trying to explain that Finding Nemo isn't scary to Rachel.  I would like to have Ching back from Florida to help me with bedtime routines but he is not.  In the grand scheme of things, it's okay, I have it all.  Some days it is better than others but it's all there.  In case you are childless and you are contemplating throwing your daily biscuit down the drain "to see what happens", make sure you think about it.  This may be the last night of true rest you may get.

If I didn't love him, I wouldn't care about having a biting come back. This is my way of saying that I care.

Ching is away...until Thursday night.   To make me even more jealous, he is in Florida while the air is so cold  here in the Northeast, I feel like I am surrounded by an air slushy.  I swear that I got a brain freeze headache when I walked into the night air.

In case I am missing my main man, I just re-play the conversation that we had when the lights went out. (Blurry lines, blurry lines, flashback to last night....)

JCW is quietly getting comfortable, waiting for the Ambien to kick in for the night.  Freakin' kick in!  It doesn't kick in soon enough.
CCW:  "Just to let you know, I am kind of gassy."
JCW:  Jesus Christ, what a way to turn a girl on.  "What do you me kind of?"
CCW:  "I don't think it's going to be that bad."
JCW:  "I don't think it's going to be that good.  Thanks for the warning."
CCW starts to move closer toward the middle of the bed.
JCW:  Jesus, don't move the covers, it shifts any potential smell.
CCW:  As he brushes his foot on my leg,  "Oh, that's kind of prickly."
JCW:  Are you freakin' kidding me?  In place of shaving my legs, I folded the household's laundry.  "Give me a break...do you feel me poking your gut saying, 'Oh that's flubby.'"
CCW: "Oh I forgot to tell you, I lost some weight."
JCW:  "How do you know?"
CCW:  "My pants are loose."
JCW:  "Sounds like they need to be washed.  They probably could stand up on their own.  Let's wash your pants, then try them on and then see how loose they are....or you can do what most do and get on a scale?"
CCW:  "I know that I feel thinner."
JCW:  "Just like my legs feel smoother."

I do realize that Ching and I will be married for another 60 years.  If I didn't love him, I wouldn't care about having a biting come back.  This is my way of saying that I care.

Gurlll..your face may look like Daddy's but your butt is all Mommy.

I went into the weekend like a soldier with a task that would get done.  I felt the time was right.  At 2 years and 8 months, I thought it was time to get Rachel out of diapers.  I was going to get my Rachel Ru on the potty this weekend and she was going to use it with success.

As I explained this process to a childless co-worker (who is practically a child himself), this happens in two steps.  Peeing first, and then pooping.  This never happens at the same time.  Right now pooping is a pipe dream.  I believe that while I can get Rachel to pee in the potty now, I truly understand that I have several more weeks of Rachel hiding behind the ottoman and loading up her pants.  Small steps...

Prior to this weekend, Rachel had not exactly used the royal throne.  She sat on it willingly and wanted to wear big girl undies over her diapers.  She had friends that were out of diapers and I was hoping for a little peer pressure.  With this, I bought a reward (Dum-Dum Lollipops) and moved the little plastic potty to the living room.  I wanted to make sure that it was in the central room so when it was time, it was easy to get to and on.

On Saturday around 7:00 am, I put Rachel in just in her undies...no diaper.  I showed her where the potty was and explained when she has to go, this is where it's done.  Also, I made her sit on the potty every 20 minutes.  And just to be on the safe side, I put "pee pads" all over the first floor--area rugs, furniture, etc.  These pads were given to Rachel by my mom's old dog, Oliver.  Avoiding accidents are not his strong suit and, honestly, I was now treating Rachel like an old leaky dog.

I did get a little nervous when she wouldn't sit down (on the potty) for very long.  I got the impression that she thought that this was the way (going to the bathroom) was done...all she needed was just a couple of seconds.  That is optimistic Rachel.  If that was the case, there would never be a line to the ladies room.  I did try to help her and she claimed that she could do it herself.  I did have to chuckle when she had a hard time getting her big girl undies over her big ol' butt.  Gurlll..your face may look like Daddy's but your butt is all Mommy.

After the seventh seating of the potty, nothing has happened.  Ten minutes later, from the family room, I heard a wail.  Rachel comes out to meet me and she is very, very wet and very, very upset.  Mentally, I am rubbing my hands together with glee. Shame, she feels shame.  Well, I hope she feels shame.  With her crying, I am not sure if it's shame or that I, her minion, isn't moving fast enough to get her into dry pants.  

And then there was a second accident.  Ching tried to explain to Rachel, what she needed to say when she has to pee.  Hoping to hear "potty", we don't.  She says, "thank you."  This is probably the only time when hearing her say "thank you" panicked us a bit.

After the third accident without any mention that she has to pee, we decided to shelve the attempt of trying to get Rachel out of diapers.  It was about noon.  This Saturday wasn't her time.  We'll try again in about a month or two.  I put the lollipops away and treated myself to a trip to Costco and bought another $50 of diapers and wipes.

To Be Continued...

Back in my day, there was no teen undie line.

I am well aware that the older I get, there is more potential of cranky, "I didn't have that in my day" proclamations.  I am happy that Laurel has the Internet.  I didn't start using the Internet until 1998 when I was 26.  Years prior I would sit in a musty, cat smelling public library looking through out of date Encyclopedia Britannica's.  In college, my resources were either books listed in the Dewey decimal system or microfiche.  Laurel will never have that...she can go on any search engine and type in her question.  Today I did this a couple of times, wondering the Popes of the Past or the 1996 NBA draft.  Again, not bitter.  My years of searching made me more creative or perhaps a little smarter.

Laurel will never have to worry about having a quarter to use the payphone.  She will have her own phone...probably at some point, the size of a quarter.  She will never know the clunkiness of a Walkman or the whirring of a rewinding cassette tape.  What I consider innovative in technology will appear old school in a few years.  Again..not a problem.

But I had to do a double take when I saw that Victoria's Secret was launching a teen undie line.  Really?  First of all, growing up, my undies were plain.  I remember wanting something fancier as I matured into my teen years.  My mom would ask--"Why?  Who is going to see them?" Keep them plain and out of sight...(she never said that last part but it may be something that I will stress to Laurel).  When I got older, still wanting fancy drawers, there was something taboo about pawing through the bin of big girl undies at a department store...so I kept to the three in a pack package, paid for them and got the hell out of there.  Then Victoria's Secret happened...back when I thought it was cool...when Victoria actually had a secret.  The stores seemed private...nicely sorted undies or the catalogue.  Granted you still had to call your order in if you used the catalog but the help was so nice..(except that time I got a dude.)  It seemed like such a right of passage.  Now they are offering the duds to younger girls...girls who shouldn't know the either the pain or discretion of a thong.  Are fancy undies just going to become commonplace?  Are three in a pack going to be no more?

God help me but I am acting like a bitter old woman.  "Back in my day, there was no teen undie line."  So Laurel will wear her three in a package undies as long as her childhood deems possible...even if they are Hello Kitty undies.  (Yes, I will bury my head in the sand with that one and ignore the undertone.)

Thank you to my sister Jess for pointing out this subject.  I am hoping her daughter is more mature than mine and she will have to deal with fancy undies first.

One thing did work---I did stay in my pj's.

I never thought I would admit this.  I have dreamt that I could be one of those people that could just roll out of bed, hop on the computer and work from home with ease.  I am not one of those people.  God help me for saying this but I am more efficient in the workplace.

Today, Laurel was at home sick.  (Yeah, I know...last week Rachel, then a snow day and then this day.  My attendance has been less than stellar.)  Laurel had a fever over the past couple of days so there was no possibility of Ching or me calling halfsies for the day.  Ching took yesterday and I stayed home with Laurel today.  I brought home my laptop thinking that I would definitely get work done.

Laurel is incredibly easy to take care of when she is sick.  (If she isn't throwing up and thankfully she wasn't), All she wants to do is stay on the couch with the Ipad and television with various snacks.  First of all I couldn't just roll out of bed and start to work.  I was sitting on the couch with Laurel until 9:30.  I would play that game of "okay, in 5 minutes, I have got to get up and get started".  One thing did work---I did stay in my pj's.

I can't get comfortable with the laptop...I feel like I have huge man hands with this little keyboard.  There is no mouse--because I didn't have my standard right click capabilities, I had to call someone at work to ask how to copy and and paste a screen shot onto an e-mail.  I am pretty sure that any credibility that I had in the office yesterday will be gone tomorrow.

As I am trying to focus, I am looking around, just hoping for something else to seem more important that I must do... going through a stack of old mail, clean out the fridge..."hey our dining room lamp needs a dusting!"  I am having the hardest time focusing and the chair is killing my ass.  (No shit, perhaps that running yesterday really paid off.)

Selfishly, I miss some of the interaction of the office.  Some people think I am funny---Laurel doesn't think I am that funny unless she is using me for a ride or a gogurt.  There is something that is incredibility fulfilling of having a quick comeback and then hearing laughter.  This is also balanced out by some people avoiding eye contact because I don't exude warmth.  I am trying to work on that.

I wish I could work from home--it is just not for me.  Or it is only for me when the girls are sick.  (I am absolutely not siding with that woman at Yahoo...you know that woman that probably is a terrible Scrabble player.  (Jesus, double Stanford grad and these are your words?  You must suck at Scrabble. 11/28/12))

So...since my butt felt so bony earlier perhaps I should have some ice cream.  Should eat it quickly, I have to get up and go to work tomorrow.

Send that broad some mini muffins!

Have you heard of "leaning in"?  Regardless if it makes you mad or initiate a fist pump, I don't care.  What gold for the blog---if I had an assistant I would say, "Send that broad some mini muffins!"

Sheryl Sandberg is the COO of Facebook.  She is very intelligent and very successful. She is also a mother of two and a wife.  Recently, she has written a book titled, Leaning In, where she discusses that there are so few women in business executive positions because we fail to "lean into" the conversation or take action.  We don't ask questions or demand more in regards to advancement.  At a young age, we have been taught to minimize ourselves and then eventually spend too much time on housework, childcare, etc.  You know the whole work/life balance debate.  Even if a woman isn't even dating someone let alone married, they may still think of how they will manage this balance down the road.  (I do have to giggle at how she kicks the childless/single woman when she is all ready down.)

I will admit that I don't lean in as much as I should have.  The majority of my leaning comes from just getting a rest. I would say a third of the time, I am thinking of something else to do and not even paying attention to the conversation that I should "lean into".  I am constantly making a list of things to do.  In the Time Magazine article, (Sheryl) has a mantra of "ruthlessly prioritizing".  She is afraid that women are selling themselves short and trying to have it all.  I am not trying to have it all.  I am just trying to maintain my sanity (and leave the house with pants on) while keeping my kids in clean clothes and fed.  Apparently she is doing this too but a little better.  (Christ, she probably offers sex regularly AND has smooth, hairless skin.)

But here is my dirty little secret:  Where I am professionally, I don't want to lean in.  My job is a job--I get benefits and a good salary but there is nothing that has sparked me to push to the next level.  I have worried about how this may look to someone single and childless.  I am not lazy, I just haven't found the same type of position that Sheryl Sandberg has been lucky to find.  I haven't given up on my quest but I am not settling for striving for a level because of the power.  Perhaps it comes sooner for some.

I will admit that I am lucky in the situation that I am in currently.  If I wanted to pursue a different area/occupation, CCW would support me.  We share the household duties-I cook, he spreadsheets, I launder, he shuttles the girls from activity to activity.  We have two sitters that we use at least three times a week on top of daycare and after school programs.  We hire help for housecleaning and yard maintenance.  Some woman don't have this.  I wish Sheryl would realize how lucky she is and admit that her situation is very different than the majority of women.  Last year, she sold stock options of Facebook worth $91 million.  She will not disclose any domestic help because she feels that a man wouldn't be asked the same question.  But I don't see a man telling other women to try harder and lean in more.  Do you?

Nothing pisses me off more than a shitty Saturday.

There is something falsely optimistic about coming into the weekend. All week you want to get to Friday evening and those precious "non-working" days-first falsity right there.  Perhaps I am not getting up as early, showering and putting on ironed clothes but there is still work to be done.  Today, it was six loads, $120 of groceries, and lots and lots of clutter pick up.

Nothing pisses me off more than a shitty Saturday.  Those two words shouldn't even go together.  I have waited five days for this day!
1.  Today I saw some pictures of me taken last November.  I look either with child or that I have eaten my child.  The combination of this and getting several suggestions on Facebook to check Dr.Oz for weight loss.
2.  Rachel only made it to one of the two birthday parties that she had scheduled today.  I couldn't find the first one!  After that Garmin bitch kept telling me to turn around for 25 minutes, a patient Rachel went to sleep.
3.  I am losing an hour of sleep tonight.  It is terrible to look at your list of "to-do's" on a Friday night and have to figure that I will behind the 8-ball before I even get up on Sunday.

Serenity!!  Kids are healthy!  And this cheesecake tastes great...(I will cut back tomorrow.)

God, I need to stop reading Radar Online; I am losing my edge.

Today, when I pulled up RadarOnline.com for the first of several times today, my heart fell for Kim Kardashian.  First of all, RadarOnline has some of best celebrity "news" at breakneck speed.  Usually what you read on RO will appear on People.com two days later.  Secondly, I have never been a Kim Kardashian supporter.  Usually she is a cause of an eye roll...even a wince when I hear or see a capital letter K.  (It's absolutely crazy that this family causes a hatred toward the letter K.  I think all bad words that start with the letter C should switch over and be used with the letter K.  But I digress...)

I felt sad because of the scare (of a miscarriage) that she had to go through. (They even had this sad picture of her...not current because she was still wearing that ring that she hustled from Humphries.)  When I was pregnant for the first time, I had no idea what was normal and what wasn't.  So I assumed everything was wrong.  Every cramp put me on edge like the whole digital read of "pregnant" was a joke.  So during my first trimester, I constantly peed on a pregnancy test to confirm that I was still pregnant.  I truly believe that I spent at least $800 on pregnancy tests in my time.

I have been pregnant four times.  Since I have Laurel and Rachel, I am sure you can do the math.  Actually I blame modern science for knowing that I was pregnant.  Those tests are so sensitive that it is just a matter of time when they will tell you "yes" or "no" 15 minutes after the deed.  As soon I could, I would see if I was pregnant.  I wanted so badly to be pregnant (and after several months, just a break from all that scheduled, task-like sex).  Every positive result was so exciting and so nerve wracking.  But totally beyond my control, two were keepers and two were not.  It was so early in the first trimester.  If I was trying to get pregnant in the 1980's, I would have never known that I was with child.  

While I was sad and felt empty, I did come to the realization that Ching and I were ready to be parents and we wanted to be.  We had the support from our family and friends and I was healthy.  While devastating, we could try again.  I needed this affirmation even if it was delivered the hard way.

I wouldn't wish this on any woman.  On the RO article, there were comments about Kim and that this could be a publicity stunt.  Christ, that is karma that you don't want to mess with...the bigger the ass, the worse that bite will feel.  Going against what I know best, I will give her the benefit of the doubt.

God, I need to stop reading Radar Online; I am losing my edge.

Move over Oprah, these are my favorite things...

Several months ago, I wrote about three of my favorite things.  I have three more that I want to share...move over Oprah, these are my favorite things and they are cheaper.  (I am not announcing these things with that stupid booming voice that she uses.)

1.  Television Without Pity Dot Com (www.televisionwithoutpity.com):  I have read this website daily for years.  Recently, there was some sort of glitch that brought the site down therefore it was inaccessible for several days and I missed it terribly.  This website posts television show re-caps with such a snarky finesse.  I was first introduced to snark by TWOP.  The amount of detail and humor in each post is so good.  There are also forums for every single show on TV.  Readers can post their thoughts.  There is nothing more delicious than the guilty pleasure of reading "literates" claiming why you should be Team Theresa or why Matt Lauer should be canned.  Watch out...a few minutes of this could suck you in to a few hours.

2.  Calvin Klein Shoes:  Holy Cripe--comfortable, name brand shoes.  A couple of years ago, I started wearing flats for sensible reasons.  (While I could claim age, I couldn't carry a toddler while wearing heels.)  Since I was wearing flats, I went name brand but my feet, not only felt crushed, but flat to the ground.  (Tory--you stink!)  So I shopped around for other brands.  Calvin Klein was a brand that I tried.  What a delightful surprise--cushy comfort on the inside and style on the out---kind of like shoe candy.  I have both flats and high heels in this brand--both styles fit my feet (with my outrageously huge big toes).  The price is not outrageous but not cheap.  Put it this way, I don't feel guilty about spending money on this brand and I don't go past my spending limit on the spreadsheet.

3.  Knot Genie:  Halla-freakin'-luah!  As I have previously stated, Laurel hates brushing or having her hair brushed.  While long, she has a sensitive scalp when I am trying to brush the tangles out.  Lots of yelling, avoidance, ducking, threatening that I needed to cut the hair if it was not brushed...and if Laurel was older, swearing.  There was no detangler that worked (especially on dry hair) without drenching each strand. Several mornings, I would brush a few sections in the front and then give up.  I know I was making the situation worse the next morning but the next morning, I usually recommend a low loose ponytail.   Laurel saw this infomercial on this brush that has special bristles that magically glide though the hair.  She asked and I said no.  So she tried another option---she went to Ching and of course he bought it.  I will admit that it looks like a pet brush.  I will admit that I thought it would be a rip off.  I will also admit that I was wrong. Laurel brushes her hair everyday to smooth perfection.  Call my preaching similar to the Sham-Wow guy, I don't care.  I am just grateful the hair brushing war is over at the Wangs.

Unlike Oprah, I am not offering items 2 and 3 for free (YOU get a knot genie, YOU get a knot genie, YOU get a knot genie...!)  but if they help you, I will take some credit.

She laughs again and then makes a comment that I have always been a mystery.

When I picked up Laurel from a birthday party last Friday night, the place was a chaotic sea of kids, sugar and parents.  I just wanted to find Laurel and get out of there.  She was getting her face painted so I was held captive for at least 10 more minutes. I think it would have been obvious to leave and go wait in the car so I stayed.   Another mom, in the same predicament, looked over at me, smiled and asked, "Are you Laurel's mom?"

Oh shit...wait this is Laurel,not Rachel.  Should be fine.  "Yes, I am...my name is Jude, Jude Carlson-Wang."  That's right, I say it loud and proud.

As we are shaking hands, she laughs and says how she always sees Ching, but never me.

I joke that I like to hide out at home and fold laundry.  Actually it's not a joke.

She laughs again and then makes a comment that I have always been a mystery.  Good Lord, this is not a joke either.  I haven't been the most sociable mom.  Ching usually does all of the social events with the girls.  He is usually the caller or writer of an e-mail initiating a play date.  If I do go to soccer, I tend to sit alone and play with Rachel.  I should make more of an effort.  If I feel like a slob..put on a clean shirt and get into the circle.  I am funny and smart!  My kids are really good (well, with Rachel, let's just keep it at a simple "good") so there is no awkwardness of "oh, you're their mother."

This mom seems very nice and her daughter seems kind. I wonder if she thought that I even existed...Ching rarely wears his wedding ring in casual clothes.  Maybe she thought I was always away on some business trip because I had a high powered job.  Or maybe she thinks that I am hiding out eating ice cream sandwiches claiming to be busy.  Regardless, I am sure she thought I was attractive since our girls are so cute.  Maybe she knew that I was just shy...perhaps that is why she introduced herself first without letting me flounder.

As I am solving her mystery, I kind of wish that I looked more exotic.

She is only in the first grade and she goes to parties on Friday night. Thankfully she is at an age that I don't feel the need to smell her breath.

Over the last few days I have been processing what I recently went through.  I shouldn't dread one of my daughter's birthdays but the party that comes attached has the potential to totally suck.  Technically the party didn't suck, I paid good money to make sure it didn't suck (for Laurel).  But, holy shit am I glad that's over.

Days prior to the party I had this odd anxiety...dreading the 90 minutes that would be Laurel's best time ever (until the next party.)  The cake was picked up (because you know that I didn't make it), the favors wrapped, pizza ordered, juice boxes and extra snacks ready to go.  I couldn't shake this ridiculous feeling.  I call it ridiculous because I did very little at the party.  Laurel was at a party the night before hers.  (She is only in the first grade and she goes to parties on Friday night.  Thankfully she is at an age that I don't feel the need to smell her breath.)  This mom DID everything.  She had little creative stations set up--dancing room to One Direction, face painting, crafts, make your own pizza and/or party hats.  It was kind of amazing but chaotic at the same time.  I could only take three minutes and then got the hell out of there.

So as the Wangs drive over to the gymnastics center, I silently tell myself that the party is going to be fine.  I am trying to rationalize why I am going through these thoughts.  I stop rationalizing when my lips start silently moving and I think Ching caught a glimpse.

I get there and I feel pretty good.  Our room is ready and Laurel's 22 besties are filing into the gym ready to act like the next Aly Raisman.  All the parents greet me and I make sure that I introduce myself to anyone that I don't know.  Everyone seems genuinely nice, but they all give me this look like, "Okay, I greeted you and now I am going to leave...without my kid.  I don't feel guilty at all. This is 90 minutes of freedom!"

The hour of activity flies by and then, there is the refreshment portion...the longest 30 minutes of my life.  There are 24 kids (including Laurel and Rachel) screaming for pizza, water, juice boxes, fruit salad, and cake.  I have more juice boxes than water...I run out of fruit salad (don't these kids normally get fruit?) and that stupid cupcake cake didn't come apart as easily as I thought.  I got home and I had frosting on my ear.  Ching and I didn't plan that the 2 of us vs. the 24 of them wasn't a good match.  Thankfully someone helped us..so it was 3 vs. 24. Yeah, that seems about right.

Of course there was a bump that happened and this one girl cried.  Honestly, I wasn't very sympathetic.  During pizza, she kept screaming about boobies and I didn't know if I was out of bounds telling her to shut the hell up.  The bump on her head did it for me.  Laurel has such a myriad of friends...they range from polite and nice to absolutely shitty. I am always amazed when the nicest parents produced some of the crappiest offspring.  I do make the assumption that if I like the parent, I will like the kid.  I have been proven wrong many a time.

Laurel came home with such an obscene haul of gifts.  I knew I should have tried harder to convince her to gather a donation to a children's hospital rather than all of these gifts.  I would say I will try harder next year but Laurel isn't having another party until 2017.