Nothing would say appreciation breakfast more to me than secretly handing me a box of 20 munchkins and leaving me the hell alone as I gorge myself into a cakey stupor..

Tonight Laurel was being very goofy and pokey.  At dinner it was a struggle just to keep her butt in the chair and her constant laughter to a dull roar.  (She was laughing because she was thinking about something funny that happened today.)  So when it came to sitting down and doing two problems of math homework, she ran and hid.

Ching and I do what any parent does...we start to count to 10 to get her to come to the table and focus.  "God forbid Laurel if we get to 10."  (She sprints to the table between 9 and 10)

LAW:  "What happens if you get to 10 and I am not here?"
JCW:  "You go to your room and we close the door."
LAW:  "Hey! Would you want to go into your room and have me close the door."
CCW+JCW:  "YES!"

You see Laurel, you are talking to a woman (I don't want to speak for Ching) that just wanted to eat in silence tonight.  I nearly choked when you told me that some first grade punk calls you a "sexy pet". I have slight disappointment in that generic brown rice that I just used...it sullied my favorite salad of spinach, pears, Gorgonzola, and golden raisins with a sliced pork cutlet.  Your sister is Whiney McCrap-Attitude tonight.  I have a ton of work-work to do and I have to send out an e-mail about a teacher appreciation breakfast to the Toddler Two Classroom parents with a rough draft menu and a request to put $10 in the envelope for the cost of the food.  As aside, nothing would say appreciation breakfast more to me than secretly handing me a box of 20 munchkins and leaving me the hell alone as I gorge myself into a cakey stupor but whatever, I will make quiche.  Right now, the highlight of my evening will be getting milk at the grocery store...alone.  Gee, I hope I come back.

JCW:  "Laurel if you want to put me in my room, I would be fine with that but you would have to fend for yourself."
LAW:  "That's fine."
JCW:  "No it's not Laurel.  You can't pee in the downstairs bathroom without having someone standing in the (close by) kitchen or dining room."
LAW:  "Well...but you and daddy would still like to be alone in your bedroom with the door closed?"
JCW:   "No way.  If I am sequestered, I want to be alone....Daddy can find a spot in the den, basement, garage, where ever...but the bedroom is mine."

So Friday night, I am wrestling with both this "pet" request and the lump known as McDonald's Value Meal #7 in my gut.

I volunteered to take Laurel and Rachel to dinner on Friday night--quality girl time at McDonald's.  Laurel hit me with this one on the drive over:  "I really want a pet...a hamster.  Daddy told me to ask you about it."

I am known to be cranky but I do not want to play bad cop on this one.  I do tell her that we need to have the family discussion about this request.  While I have put this potential shit show of a screaming match on hold until (probably) Sunday, I do stew about the potential of having a rodent in my house. (Rats, mice, gerbils, hamsters, even freakin' ferrets...all rodents to me.  Christ, why don't we invite one of Ching's God damn squirrels in the house?)  So Friday night, I am wrestling with both this "pet" request and the lump known as McDonald's Value Meal #7 in my gut.

Immediately, I want to turn this into my agenda.  I don't want to be stuck the cleaning the cage, scooping food pellets and spreading wood shavings.  I am sure there is a funky smell that I can't even comprehend yet.  I am all ready cleaning enough things around here.  I don't need another one.  

I also want to hunt Ching down.  Why the hell did he defer to me?  I am not going to look like the meany (like he was hoping) and I insisted on a family discussion.  Ching and I do strategize...stress cost, smell, care, noise, etc.  (The noise is a cheap shot.  While Laurel is generally a heavy sleeper, if she is close to being awake, anything can spook her--rain, wind, Ching's gas and perhaps a creak of a hamster wheel.)

Laurel goes first and explains what she needs to do to care for the hamster.  She is pretty thorough and is genuinely prepared for this discussion.  (Wow, look who got the spreadsheet gene.)  I am also quite impressed that she doesn't get screamy when we don't initially agree.

I explained (albeit a touch screamy) that I can't justify giving her a pet when she doesn't pick after herself.  I explain what I do and her request of a pet isn't another task for me.  But for some reason, I can't help but side with her.  I don't immediately say no but Ching and I don't say yes for now.

Ching jumps on the research wagon and they are going to figure out how much all of the hamster gear will cost.  Laurel has assured us that the noise will not be an issue and she will care for this pet.  She is willing to prove her point but taking the next few months and picking up after herself.  

I can't believe I didn't shut this down.  And I have been Googling hamster pictures, I can't find one that doesn't give me the creeps.

I bought Popsicles today to make sure that Ching and I have leverage to get the girls to leave the playground.

It was felt like the first beautiful day of spring today with summer right around the corner...

I bought Popsicles today to make sure that Ching and I have leverage to get the girls to leave the playground.

I had to answer a text from Ching (at the playground).  With the warmer weather, there are more parents and their kids out and about.  While Ching and I do an excellent job remembering all the names of Laurel's friends, the parents' names are another story.  There have been many a text like today that asked, "What is Lila's mom's name?"  Today I actually knew it but usually I have to run and find the school directory before I can respond with an answer.

And with the warmer weather, comes the sand.  I need to be careful of the remaining sand in the girls sneakers...nothing like discovering about a tablespoon of sand on my floor after I flipped over one of Rachel's little pink sneaks.  (And I just had the floors cleaned this week.)

Kids are out on their bikes and scooters...and gaggles of high school girls sporting shorts that are much too short.  I know I sound like a middle aged woman that is jealous that my butt hasn't looked like that since 1991.  I probably shouldn't stare...but it is a reminder that I need to start shaving my legs more frequently...

I will confess the dirty secret of the day.

I will confess the dirty secret of the day.  When I woke up this morning, I didn't want to be a mother to my girls.  Ching can stick around--he is pretty low maintenance.  As I was lying there, I looked at my right, thinking I would see Ching but he was gone.  (More on that later).  Not really concerned that anything was wrong, I just assumed he slept in the den.  I heaved myself out of bed and wanted to be childless again.

My girls didn't do anything to anger me where I would leave them on the curb with a "Free to a Good Home" sign.  I just didn't want the responsibility today.  What type of mother thinks that?  I felt pretty guilty while they were being so polite and helpful this morning. All I could think of was how much cash I would in my bank account if I didn't pay for childcare, camp and 529 plans.  I would have a normal looking belly button and my car wouldn't smell like old apple juice.

I wanted to go back in time when I didn't have to band-aid boo-boos or put cream on phantom itches.  As the girls got dressed, I didn't want to look at the weather and doubt that today is really going to be 70 when yesterday it felt like it was going to snow.  I also didn't want to sit at my desk at work worrying that I was going to get a call from Rachel's school saying that she was sick.  (Last night she had some intestinal distress and I was hoping this morning it was a one time thing.)

God I am a terrible mother for thinking this.  So to make myself feel better, I call my own mother.  No joke.

Actually there are two more dirties...  First of all, the girls totally forgot about their Easter candy.  And I haven't reminded them about it...and I have been eating it all by myself.  My second thing was comparing thank you notes sent from other kids to Laurel's thank you notes.  How long did they take to get the notes mailed, penmanship, etc.  I know that I joke that I judge but these mom's were in the same boat as me...pleading to get them done and then threatening to take away the gifts if they didn't (get done). Yeah, not a good day for JCW---I was a big ol' twat waffle.  (Thank you Mrs. Leusner for the questionable label.)

As a post script...Ching woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep therefore he switched beds.  I think there needs to be a changing of the guard in the Wang household because I fall right to sleep and sleep like a rock.  Perhaps he could work a little harder??

Because we are nearing the end of April, it makes total sense to want to read Christmas stories.

I always put Laurel to bed (because Rachel prefers Ching only). Part of the routine is reading a book--sometimes it is a chapter out of a large book or a whole small book.  Because we are nearing the end of April, it makes total sense to want to read Christmas stories.  

I don't want to read these stories.  They give me this feeling that I am behind in my holiday cards or wrapping.  Secondly, I don't want read them because Laurel is putting the screws to me in regards to Santa's validity. She has friends that tell her that Santa is fake and that parents just make pretend.  (I don't even have to ask who has told her this...that little shit.)  She asks me if I believe and of course, I say yes even though I usually have to be pretty specific with my Santa with a gift that is budgeted in the spreadsheet.  I skirt around the issue and tell Laurel that Santa is there for those that believe.  Those who don't believe don't have a Santa Claus.

I feel as if I am lying to her...a little white lie.  This is just the first of many that she will hear or learn to deliver:

• That doesn't make you look fat at all.
• Your baby is beautiful.
• I didn't call you back because I was busy.
• Of course, I had a good time.  I would love it if you called.

But the little whites starts with, "Of course, Santa is real."  And to make sure of it, Laurel told me that she is keeping her Christmas list secret.  If there is really a Santa, she will get what she has wished for.  I am counting down the days until December.

I am truly living the phrase, "Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink."

Ching and I pitch some of the best woo in the morning. But none of it is for us...it's for them...those girls.  I am truly living the phrase, "Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink."  Ching and I (mainly me) do the dance of love and compromise every morning just to get them out of the door with very little complaint. 

The pitch starts with what to wear.

LAW:  "I don't won't to wear this shirt, it feels to big.  I would like to wear one that's smaller.  The pants will be too hot by lunch.  I don't want to be hot. Two trips upstairs to get different shirts and pants

RJW:  "I don't want my valentine shirt. It has a heart  I want the one with bunny rabbit.  And I thank the Wang Laundry God which would be me...

Breakfast:

JCW: "Laurel, I have Apple Jacks" 

LAW: "Those aren't Apple Jacks.  They're Apple Dapples." 

JCW: "Laurel, they are cheaper and they need to be gone before you can start the new box of cereal."

LAW: "Okay" 

Wow that was easy...now on to:

JCW: "Here is your milk Rachel.  Would you like fruit, cereal..maybe a waffle?"  She just looks at me like I am a world class dipshit.  "Would you like some cheerios?" 

RJW: "Crackers, I want crackers."

Who in their right mind likes Saltines for breakfast?  But I shut the hell up and get her the damn saltines.

Lunch

JCW: "Laurel, would you like waffles for lunch or a sandwich?"

LAW: "Waffles... and can I have a Chobani with my lucky spoon?"

I will throw in a rabbit's foot too.

JCW: "Rachel, would you like dumplings, cereal or a cheese sandwich?  Rachel, I am talking to you (but don't anger her).  Would you like dumplings, cereal or a sandwich", as I am dancing in front of her to her view to Dora is partially blocked.  

RJW: "I want Cheerios" 

Of course you do--crackers for breakfast and cheerios for lunch.  Makes perfect sense.

Getting final steps:

"Shoes, let's get shoes!"

"Laurel did you brush your hair?  Would you like me to brush it?  And we need to brush teeth."  

"Rachel, can we turn off the TV--yep, let's pause Dora...want to press the button (Please, press the button.)  Hey do you want to vitamin?" You know a vitamin that is sugary but is a vitamin because your breath is vita-stinky for a few seconds...Yep, let's lure you out to the kitchen.

LAW: "Hey mom, can we do my coloring project later?"  

I lie and say yes...just to get out the door.

RJW: "I want to help"

JCW: "Rachel you can help."

LAW: "Mom! She will ruin it!"

I shoot Laurel a look of play along. We are so close to the door.  Rachel will not be coloring your project later and hopefully, neither will I.

With Ching driving off with Laurel,  I drive away from our cul de sac with Rachel.   I think I am free but I am listening to a Backyardigan's song that Rachel calls the "Tasha" song.  The first line goes "I am queen Tasha and I rule the whole backyard."  This song will be on repeat for the entire 10 minute ride to Rachel's daycare.  Fitting end to the morning dance...

Yes, I know...trivial. But it makes me chuckle.

Thing that I learned this past week that had nothing to do with terrorism, pressure cookers or neighborhood lock downs:

1.  I never realized how amusing it is watching an older sister being mimicked by the younger sister.  Growing up as the older sister, this was always my nightmare but listening to little Rachel repeat EVERYTHING that Laurel is saying with her bad enunciation amuses me every time.  Granted this is the first week of the mimicker known as Rachel.  I know this is going to get old.

2.  Bikes are freakin' expensive!  And Laurel Long Legs needs a bike a little larger than the average kid.  The bike is so large that it can't have training wheels so it sits as Laurel is practices her balance on her Razor scooter.  The longer the bike sits unused, the more expensive it seems.

3.  Why are cartoon dads portrayed as bumbling idiots?  Rachel refers to them as silly but all of them seem so stunted and challenged.  Daddy Pig from Peppa Pig, the dad from Calliou, the dad from Olivia can't seem to do anything practical.  Christ, they aren't even given names.  

4.  I watched Argo last night.  First of all, who would have thought that Ben Affleck would make Matt Damon look like the other guy with big teeth?  Secondly, I was 7 and 8 when the hostage crisis happened in Iran.  I remember it but didn't fully understand it and I am glad I didn't.

5.  Ching and I found a way to get Rachel out of the tub.  Thirty minutes seems kind of long for a bath and we don't like to leave her unattended so we have been trying to lure her out with different bribes.  Creepily,she gets out to watch Laurel take her shower.  She is very amused and Laurel doesn't seem to mind.  But it is weird to say, "Hey Rachel, do you want to watch your sister shower?"  Yeah, I feel wrong just saying that...

6.  I buy V-8 Fruit Fusion juice.  The girls love it and it's a primary source of vegetables.  But it's expensive at $4.19 a bottle.  They drink the light version for less sugar.  As I read the label, I notice that the light is 50% juice as opposed to the non-light that is 100% juice.  I thought I had the bright idea of buying one bottle of the regular, cut it with water and I could get two bottles of the light for the price of one.  No-way.  As soon as Laurel took the first sip, she called my watery bluff.  Now I am stuck with 2 bottles of watered down juice and Laurel sniffing around my juice box stash that is used for lunch packing.

Yes, I know...trivial.  But it makes me chuckle.

As if feeling like a ghoul and then admitting it isn't weird enough.

Today I was having a joking text exchange between my friends Lesley and Heidi.  The conversation was getting kind of ridiculous.  I told them to keep going because it was a good distraction from the fact that the (Boston) Federal Court House was being evacuated.  While I am not in the building, I am close.  The saucy conversation was keeping me from noticing the police sirens and helicopters.  Immediately L+H wanted me to leave.  And my response was "absolutely not."  I realized that while my intentions were to try to focus on the positive of the day, I was still mad about some whack job that will probably blame his mother for these horrendous acts. 

My anger from Monday ranges from rational to irrational.  The rational is obvious.  I am mad at the pain it has caused, the innocence of the city that is now gone, and the urge to hunt this criminal down and torture him.  But then the irrational comes out of no where and makes me feel like a nut.

I wanted to have a donut this morning.  The woman that I know recovering from her injuries had a second surgery today.  She loves donuts as do I and I thought it would be a great tribute to her this morning.  Of course, I didn't think of it until I was at work and my building's cafeteria doesn't offer donuts.  I think it's pretty ghetto not to offer donuts.  I settled for the chocolate chip muffin.

Traffic absolutely sucks because of this bomber.  The crime scene has kept a major exit closed on the Pike, therefore four lanes must merge down to three causing quite a bottleneck effect.  And this was supposed to be a light traffic week with the April vacation, God damn it!

Morning radio is talking more (about Monday) and playing less music.  The music that they are playing is that stupid Rhianna song about staying.  I need to remember a CD tomorrow.

I keep looking at all those horrific pictures on CNN over and over again...even the gross ones.   I am mad that I feel like a ghoul.  

And here is where it gets really weird. (As if feeling like a ghoul and then admitting it isn't weird enough.) I am mad that I wasn't there on Monday.  Even though I could have gotten hurt, in reality there were more people helping that getting hurt.  But what kind of sicko wished they were near where a bomb exploded?  Crazy talk...

I do know that I have channeled some of my anger into running harder and longer on the treadmill.  This is a good thing because tomorrow morning I probably will go for that muffin again.

And if it means saying inappropriate things at awkward moments, then so be it.

Yesterday, I started this entry. Before I got through the first paragraph, I heard about what was happening at the Boston Marathon.  By not writing about the travesty and senselessness doesn't mean that I am not constantly thinking about it.  I am thinking about the unbearable sites and sounds that occurred.  I am still thinking about those that were panicked and hurt.  Boston is still very much on my mind.  But I am trying to get back to some normalcy.  And if it means saying inappropriate things at awkward moments, then so be it.

I think we made some progress toward Potty Gate 2013. Recently, when I asked Rachel if she pooped and needed to be changed, she actually said yes.  This may not seem like much but up to this point, Rachel would shift her eyes left to right and then giggle and specifically say no when I asked if she had pooped.  While she is blatantly lying, there is a noxious cloud of stink hovering over her and her butt has a distinct pointedness and/or lumpiness.

Last week when I was picking Rachel up from her Toddler 2 class, I overheard a mom of a child in Toddler 1.  The mom was explaining to the teacher that her daughter is starting to be very curious about using the potty.  Are you kidding me?  Why isn't Rachel curious about the potty?  She understands sitting but that's it...since it's not a very comfy seat, she is off in a flash.

There is another little boy in Rachel's class that absolutely has the same lack of interest.  I do feel better that she is absolutely not the last one.  But while Rachel is in the final two, I feel like it's a race.  I have one positive and one negative in the situation.  Rachel is younger BUT she is a girl so I have that going for the situation.  Let's go with female maturity and less equipment!

But something has got to give.  I am pulling desperate shit.  The other night Laurel just wants some privacy in the bathroom.  Nope, I wanted Rachel to watch--holy crap, just writing that makes me sound like a sicko.

This weekend, I am going to try a second time of the no diapers and dog piddle pads all over.  Of course I will be toyed with...

JCW:  "Rachel did you pee the potty today?"

RJW:  "Yup!"

JCW:  "Where is your celebratory pee on the potty sticker?  Do you have one?"

RJW:  "Nope."

JCW:  "That would be lying Rachel...but two can play this game.  I can lie too."

Later...

RJW:  "Where is Baby Bear?"

JCW:  "He's gone.  He ran away."

RJW:  "Huh?"  (She has the CCW "huh" gene.)

JCW:   "Nope--he is right here."

Okay, that look she just gave me probably means I went too far.  I may have to sleep with the light on tonight.

One of my first supporters of my blog is in a Boston Hospital tonight recovering from injuries she suffered on Monday.  She shared my blog on Facebook and would take the time to tell me how funny the writing was.  Her favorite entries are about Laurel and "that Paul".  Michelle--be good to yourself and let others take care of you and make them bring you donuts!

Little did I know how much this city would give me over 17 years.

I moved to Boston in June of 1996.  This was the first major city that I had seen up close as an adult, and at 23, I wanted it to be my city.  There isn't a word that I can find that did my intrigue justice.  Little did I know how much this city would give me over 17 years. 

It gave me the feeling that I made it even while in my tiny studio eating cheap pasta. The amount of success that I felt living in 200 square feet was all mine.  

I never owned a car when I lived in the city.  I walked, T'ed or cabbed every where.  My metabolism thanks the city and I don't think it's coincidence that I went up a size (or two) when I started to drive more frequently.

I was giddy in love in this city.  I had a lot of bad dates in this city.  I made many a walk of shame in the city.  (Sometimes I wouldn't even stay to do the walk at dawn.)   I got my heart broken and considered becoming a stalker in this city.  (Thankfully I did not.)  I did meet Mr Ching Wang on Newbury Street and knew he was going to be my husband.  Of course--I was right and 3 years later we got engaged in the Public Garden.

This city gave me a better knowledge of sports except for hockey--I still can't get into that one.  Some years, there were games that were tough to watch and have the season end with a loss.  But there was always hope for next year.  Every spring, thousand of runners descend on the city and the resulting visual of the sea of Mylar wraps is truly breathtaking.  So amazing that I, a non-athlete, always thinks that maybe I could do that too. Usually by June and a couple of good blisters, I usually let that hope quietly slide away.

My daughters were born in this city.  Ching and I specifically chose to live in Newton because we could remain very close to what the city has to offer them.  Currently their favorite offerings have to do with Disney on Ice and Duck Tours.

Last May, I had one of the best dinners with Ching and the girls.  It was a beautiful Saturday evening and we had dinner outside on the sidewalk at the Atlantic Fish Co.  Laurel, who hates fish, sat at this table, people watching, truly feeling like the cat's meow at her family dinner.  After dinner, she skipped down Boylston Street to a candy shop.  At the same time, Rachel sauntered down the sidewalk truly owning her space.  Where we had dinner was incredibly close to the first explosion.  A couple of weeks ago, I thought of this dinner and when we will go back.  Because we will go back and enjoy the best city.

Feeling like I have been caught, I put my little notebook away.

I totally forgot that I told Laurel that I would take her to her after school's production of Annie.  While she will get to see it tomorrow at school (for free), she wants to go tonight.  She specifically said that she wanted to take me so I had the experience of seeing it too.  I bite my tongue and do not tell her that I have seen it several times way back in 1983 when Carol Burnett playing the lushy Miss Hannigan.  Actually there was a time that I wanted to play Annie on Broadway but I soon realized that while I could sing loudly, that doesn't necessarily mean that I was singing on key.

So prior to the production, I rush home, change my clothes and make a quick dinner for the girls-fruit and grilled cheese.  (Just a little tip--in case you have a kid that hates bread crust, make the grilled sandwich with hamburger buns turned inside out.  There are no crusts,  therefore no waste.)  But believe me, I did try to bribe Laurel with McD's if we could skip the show.  No go...again this experience is for me.

So we walk to her school and I do thoroughly enjoy watching Laurel skip down the street with her lilac colored fleece flying in the wind.  I then get the stick out of my butt about going.  She is very excited...so shut up JCW!

I sit near the back rationalizing that the front seats should be for parents with kids in the production.  I watch Laurel interact with her friends and I am not sure if I should cringe or not.  She kept using the word adorable in such a girly way.  Rather than twitch in reaction, I take out my little blog notebook and start writing about this experience.  And then this happens...

Male Parent to my left:  "Are you a reporter?"

JCW:  "Oh no.  I have blog...as a hobby.  I am just taking some notes."  You would think that I could sell this a little better.

MPTML:  "Do you write every day?"

JCW:  "I try."

MPTML:  "And you are not a journalist?"

JCW:  "Oh, no I studied journalism years ago but I am in financial sales.  I sell retirement plans."  That's right, I sell dreams.

MPTML: "What is your blog about?"

JCW: "Oh...just sarcastic wife/motherly things. Funny stories that let other parents know that they may not be alone in parental crazy." I feel the need to change the subject.  Is your child in the production?"

MPTML: "Yes.  Our son is in it--his name is Paul."

JCW:  Holy shit!  Laurel's Paul!  Be cool...just like you tell Laurel.  "Laurel thinks very highly of your son.  They were buddies last year in a K/4th Buddy Program."

MPTML:  He jokingly asks, "Is Paul in your blog?"

JCW:  "Oh no...absolutely not."

Feeling like I have been caught, I put my little notebook away.  

I walk away. I don't even want to see the gesture he is making about the hairier places.

Yesterday it was all about avoiding verbal stupidity.  This morning, I was determined to make the day a good one.  I felt like I was all ready behind the 8-ball before the alarm went off.  My alarm was to go off at 6:00 but through out the night I kept looking at the clock thinking it was time (to get up).  When I am half asleep, the only thing more infuriating than constantly waking up with 2 hours, then 1 hour,  then 46 min left, is a Laurel Lu kick in the head.  But God damn...Good Day!

Today is really my Tuesday.  I am taking Friday off.  There shouldn't be any Monday pissiness in the equation.  Good Day!

As I step into the shower and let the hot water hit me, I look down and realize that there is no soap in the shower.  There is an empty bottle that someone left for me.  Apparently, the fear of replacing toilet/paper towel rolls has extended to liquid shower soap.  So I stop the shower and walk down the dark hall, dripping wet and grab the Costco 3-pack of Dove.  As I rip the package open, one bottle slips out and hits the floor.  Oh, that's too bad.  Hope no one woke up.

As I get out of the shower, I step on the scale.  Hey look at that--one pound down.  I recently cut out my chocolate chip muffins and replaced it with oatmeal with extra fiber.  While my colon is a little flustered, it definitely is working.  (As an aside, how awesome would this tag line be:  "Oatmeal--it will kick the shit out of your colon.")  Good Day!

As I am making lunches, Ching comes into the kitchen to do the first Blackberry check.  He starts giggling like a little kid.  He sees my pile of stuff that I have to pack for myself..phone, gym clothes and tampons.

CCW:  "Hey, without my glasses, I thought this was a cheese stick." as he is holding up my tampon.  

JCW:    I ignore this and inner eyeroll that I am married to a sixth grade boy.  "Hey, did you realize that you used the last of the soap yesterday?"

CCW:  "Yeah.  If I run out of soap, just use shampoo.  Don't you do that?"

JCW:  "No!"  (Obviously you can tell who uses Suave and who uses Kerastase.)

CCW:  "Oh come on Jude.  It's just like soap and you can condition some of the hairier places."

JCW:  I walk away.  I don't even want to see the gesture he is making about the hairier places.  Good day!  Good freakin' day!

Now it's Laurel's turn.  She is exasperated at her leggings and they always feel twisty when she puts them on.  I do a couple of fake fixes telling her that they should feel better.  They don't--while they are the same brand and size, she insists that the turquoise ones fit better than the carbon grey ones.  So I run upstairs, cursing at the fact that this kid will not wear anything that snaps or buttons on her waist.  

I go outside and load up the car.  Oh my gosh, it smells like Spring.  There is nothing like that first fresh dirt smell of Spring.  Smells like a good day!

Ching is back in the kitchen getting a little bit of milk to take his antacid cocktail.  After he is done, he quickly rinses the cup and puts it BACK in the cupboard.  

JCW:  "Did you just rinse that and put it is back for someone else to use?"

CCW:  "Oh it's fine.  Is it blog worthy?"

JCW:  "Whatever."  Of course it is...

Rachel and I drive away to her school.  Oh, Jet--Are You Going to Be my Girl? is on the radio.  Just a couple of verses of this puts you in a great mood.  A "mini skirt, platform boots dancing in a cage fun" mood.  Oh yeah...Rachel's Backyardigans CD...and it's the P.U. song for me.

While Rachel says goodbye to me with not one but two running hugs (It's the new fad in Toddler 2), she looks me right in the eye and says, "Mommy, I am happy!" 

I am too Rachel, I am too.

I still do a silent prayer of "Don't say anything stupid. Don't say anything stupid."

As Lady Linda (that's my new name for the GPS) guides me to the home of one of Rachel's classmates, I actually feel quite good about this party.  It seems low key and comfortable.  While I have put on make-up, I feel very comfortable in my jeans, gap T, and my unwashed hair of five days pulled back into a ponytail.  Needless to say, even with my so called ease, I still do a silent prayer of "Don't say anything stupid. Don't say anything stupid."

Rachel and I do arrive with another mother.  Regardless of how relaxed I try to be at these things, why am I always one of the first ones here?  I could look too eager but it is now an excuse to be the first to leave.  Immediately I do try to see if another mom is there that I have been meaning to apologize to for missing her son's birthday party several weeks ago because I couldn't find it.  Luckily she isn't there, so I can put off feeling like an idiot...for now.

The mom of the birthday girl is very nice but has been hiding her pregnancy under a very bulky winter coat over the past several months.  I usually only see her during pick up or drop off. Not only is she not hiding under a coat today but I would be surprised if her boobs be be corralled under a jacket.  Oh Christ...nope, okay, I didn't say that out loud.

Holy shit--gifts?  Why are some people bringing gifts?  The invitation specifically said, "No gifts, please."  I hope the people who brought gifts are either relatives or deemed as morons who don't pay attention.  God damn it--I knew I should have brought flowers for the mom!

As other parent come in, I do make conversation with another dad about the transition from kindergarten to first grade.  Currently his daughter is kindergarten and wanted to know how it was for us.  I talk about Laurel's transition and how her K teacher was so warm and then I diplomatically say that the first grade teacher is not...warm.  Good Job JCW--no mention of being able to freeze ice on that teacher's ass.

Oh, interesting...lesbian couple...don't stare.  Why do I revert to the mind of a pubescent boy? 

Other things..three woman come up to me (separately) to say they realize where they know Rachel from.  Oh shit.  Oh, apparently, it's not that bad.  They recognize her from the Sunday morning music class.  They specifically say that "my husband" must take her.  First of all, the assumption that "my husband" takes her amuses me when I am sitting next to two woman that probably could be members of the LPGA tour.  Secondly, while I do say Rachel enjoys Music and Movement very much, it's not my thing at all.  Oh crap, I have insulted them.  But it's clearly not...(Please refer to "This Guy is a Such a Weirdo, but Holy Crap this is Blog Gold" from 1/29/12)

Another mom of one of Rachel's classmates informs me that she is having a baby too. (Jesus Christ--what's in the water?) Thankfully I didn't blurt out "by a surrogate?" because this woman didn't even look bloated let alone 24 weeks pregnant.  I told her that she looked great and said congratulations...as I sucked in my gut.

Surprisingly, the party goes by quite fast.  And true to form, I am one of the first few to leave.  But I do offer play dates at our home which are genuinely met with enthusiasm.  Okay, JCW, just walk out the door before you say something bad...and holy shit, I do.  Yay!

But holy crap, I do want to avoid her screaming as if I am beating her.

Another week come and gone...a good one because the week started with an Easter dinner, everyone remained healthy and there were no snow days that created chaos in the scheduling.  While I feel unscathed, the following is my prized moment of the week where I thoroughly doubted my parental abilities.

(Wavy lines, wavy lines...going back to Wednesday night.)

Ching was particularly busy this week preparing slides for a presentation.  Since I forgot to take something out of the freezer for dinner (just standard pork chops), I thought it would be an opportunity for me to take the girls out to dinner.  Ching could either stay later at work or come home and work in peace.  He seems to do this frequently for me and I have realized that I rarely do it for him.  I am trying...look--growth.  (I am later rewarded with the stench of White Castle cheeseburgers that he has microwaved as dinner.  He failed to open any windows and I swear my coat in the next room absorbed some of the stink.)

So I pick up the girls and the first issue is where to go to eat.  I know Laurel would want to go to McD's.  I wanted to avoid that and Rachel doesn't really like their food.  She tends to have a couple of fries and the apple slices--that's it.  If McD's would consider putting a McHot Dog on the menu for her, it would really help me out.  I suggested Bertucci's because while the girls do like their cheese pizza, I like the lovely things that they do with prosciutto.  They vetoed me in a sec and then Laurel suggested a small restaurant that is popular where we live--it's like Friendly's but it's not franchised.  She suggested it because it has both grilled cheese for her and hot dogs for Rachel.

I agree but since I am alone with the two, I have this twinge of anxiety.  The twinge is really from Rachel not Laurel.  I can guarantee that Laurel will not throw herself on to the floor in a puddle of tears screaming in tantrum.  I cannot guarantee that with Rachel.
 
We sit in a booth and order.  Both of my girls want their particular item but not with fries but with applesauce. I know I should be proud but I think it's kind of weird.  I brush that thought aside.

Before our dinner comes to the table, I specifically tell them that they must finish all their dinner before they get dessert.  I also have to tell them that my phone goes back into my bag during dinner.  Rachel doesn't like that and she looks at me with that look that says, "Oh lady, I am so watching something on your phone during my dinner."  And to stress this, I swear I see her eyes slightly glisten with these tears that she can flip on like a light.

Our dinners arrive and true to form, not only does Rachel get my phone (because she let out a wail in a very crowded place with a single tear rolling down her cheek) but she doesn't eat her hot dog.  Laurel is dutifully eating both her apple sauce and her sandwich but Rachel won't even eat one bite.  Isn't this the reason why we chose this place?

Oh shit...now what am I going to do?  I can't imagine giving Laurel dessert and not Rachel.  Why should I reward Rachel?  But holy crap, I do want to avoid her screaming as if I am beating her.  This would be much easier if Ching were here.  I am trying to be rational about this even though the Rueben that I ordered is awful.  I swear this isn't corned beef but thinly sliced baloney..smothered in too much sauerkraut.  God damn, I wish I were at Bertucci's.

I cave and I let them both have dessert.  Laurel gets raspberry sherbet and Rachel gets a cookie.  I curse myself and my parental weakness while I inhale a dish of coconut chip.  Laurel doesn't comment on the inequity and while I appreciate that, I do know that it will come back one day to bite me in the ass.

Rachel has no problem finishing the cookie.  Yes, her dinner was two bites of apple sauce, a chocolate chip cookie and some milk.  But at least it was white milk...

Position Wanted...

Position Wanted:  A capable, eloquent person to tell me where the hell my time is going?  (It slips through my freakin' fingers like sand.)   Must be able to see gaps of time that could be utilized more efficiently.  (I am willing to multi-task)  Past drill sargent experience preferred. (You may have to kick me in the ass to get out of bed a little more quickly.)  Be prepared for a family environment-1 husband, 2 young children but no pets. I would like to see time-spent habits on a spreadsheet.  (Because living with Ching Wang has made me spreadsheet dependent too.)  Consider this a temporary position.  Once I can find an efficient routine, your work will be considered done.  (I may not be efficient with my time but I am efficient with my money.)

I am not an equal opportunity employer.  You must know what it is like to have children...at all hours of the day--babysitting your nephew doesn't count.  You must know what it is like to be married--I don't care if you are presently divorced, widowed or married--you just need to know what it is like to be married to a person who is afraid of empty toilet/paper towel rolls, putting dishes in the dishwasher and making lunches for their children.

And if you don't speak sarcasm or snark, you need not apply.

Holy crap...another broad with a crazy opinion! Another batch of mini muffins needs to be sent!

Holy crap...another broad with a crazy opinion!  Another batch of mini muffins needs to be sent!  (At first I felt bad about using the word "broad" but in this day and age of reality crap TV and Lindsey Lohan, I don't think it's a big deal.  And it's fun to say.  If you are unsure how my use of the word started, please refer to entry from March 11 referring to another broad and a gift of muffins.)

Okay, (gather, deep breaths..no need to rush), in a current article on MSNBC, Susan Patton is a past graduate of Princeton (1977).  With the recent debate about leaning in and not standing up for yourself, she felt that there is an issue that wasn't being addressed.  The issue is that the undergrad women of Princeton need to find their future husband...while at Princeton.  So as they are thinking about registering for classes, internships, they also need to be on the look out for a life long spouse.  Her theory revolves around the intellect of each Princeton woman needs to be matched up with at least an intellectual match.  Ms. Patton thinks that these women will meet smart men after they graduate.  But not as plentiful at that Princeton pool. So there is no time a wastin'!

This strikes a cord with me because when I graduated from UConn back in 1994, I felt like a failure because I was leaving without a boyfriend. Nearing graduation, I wasn't even getting to the spouse level.  I just wanted a date.  When I left my small hometown in Maine back in 1990 for college, I did have this grandiose idea that I was going to get an education and my future husband.  I thought this was how it happened. Because of this thought, I didn't consider many men (you know they were flocking to me) because I was constantly sizing them up in my mind for marriage material.  I probably missed out on a lot of nice guys.

I was 18 when I started sizing up men for marriage!  I was a child...looking for another child to marry.  What I thought was important then in a life long mate, is very different than what I eventually committed to.  Also, holy shit...imagine what type of fru-fru gown I would have chosen back in 1994...complete with huge shoulder pads and a veil attached to a headband.

When I was in my early 20's, I wasted a lot of time trying to pair up with someone.  I wished I had focused more attention to travelling, studying harder, taking the risk of buying my own place and finding things that were fun.  I wished I had enjoyed the solitude a little bit more.  Of course, I do realize that is easy for me to say now knowing that I have Beep and Blare snuggled in their beds and Ching prepping a power point presentation for a meeting.  

Speaking of CCW, I wonder what Ms. Patton would think?  I interpret her theory as women who are Ivy, get Ivy prospects and above?  So where does that leave the public school crowd...people like me?  I think she would be pissed that I strayed outside of my (public) class and landed an Ivy man.

I hope these women respect a fellow alum but don't take her suggestion seriously.  And all the men on campus...they are hoping the same.

I feel like I am constantly trying to solve sticky--I am not going there voluntarily

With every large festive family meal comes the inevitable end.  Some escape quickly...typical Irish exit.  One minute they are there, the next minute, they are gone.  These are single people, childless that had to endure those craptastic questions of "any suitors or potential boyfriends?"  While it was a painful during the dinner process, they now get to leave scott free.  And then there are people like Ching and me that are saddled with the girls and their crap.  And easy exit is never feasible...it is usually a long drawn out process that I give at least 30 to 40 minutes.

I am using the recent Easter dinner as my example.  As Ching finishes up his meal of ham, scalloped potatoes and asparagus (he didn't take any salad), he does two things.  First he starts sniffing around for dessert, then he drops feelers of when I would like to leave.  Since it is my family, I guess I make the call of when to leave but also that I need to start coordinating this departure.

First every one's stuff  needs to be gathered and packed.  I am famous (in the family) for always forgetting something important.  I have made several calls as soon as we got to our house a state away, pleading with my mom to overnight sneakers, extra sets of keys, wallets, etc.  I have truly tried to do a better job to keeping our shit together.  Usually before other guests even arrive, I try to get dirty clothes and toiletries together.  But I still will sweep each room for random items that I don't want to call my mom for later.  I do the sweep for everyone...the girls, myself and Ching. (Yeah, I know.)

I, then, have to prep the girls that we are going to leave soon.  They don't like that and I wonder why I have to be the bearer of bad news?  I don't listen to their whines, I just move to the next task.

Ching starts to load up the car but not before telling me how good Michigan is playing against Florida.  How does he know this game is even on?  Jesus Christ, is this what he was doing while I was doing the sweep for his razor and antacids?

And now the kids have to be separated--Laurel and Maddie are better at this.  Since they are both 7 and on the brink of coolness, they hug and give the casual good bye without drama.  Rachel is not that easy.  She doesn't want to leave her buddy, cousin Cason.  He is four  and Rachel follows him around like he has a little female shadow.  They really don't want to stop playing.  After a few precious moments of "oh, that's nice", I have had enough.  We need to go and I start bribing with snacks and drinks.

And then all the adults say good bye--some want hugs.  My sister Jess just yells "bye" in my direction knowing full well that I don't like being touched.  But there are others I do hug..my mom, Victor, my (crazy) Aunt Brendi who tries one last attempt to get me to eat one of her chocolates made from all natural ingredients that she brought back from her latest yoga retreat in Nicaragua.  I decline...the last one coated my tongue like whiskers.  (No--I am not being mean.  This is just one of many quirky things.  My favorite suggestion from her this past Sunday was being told that an excellent face masque is to use raw honey and then fresh aloe right from the plant.  The masque needs to sit for 20 minutes.  If I had an extra 20 minutes, I certainly wouldn't make my face all sticky. I feel like I am constantly trying to solve sticky--I am not going there voluntarily.)

We are lined up to the door..Ching, Laurel, Rachel and then me...I am still scanning for stuff.  Ching, then turns, and says this with this eyes:
CCW:  Hey, did we get any leftovers?
JCW:   You don't need any.  Keep moving...

We are practically out the door when Laurel starts quizzing me on everything of hers that I needed to make sure was in the bag.  Laurel do want to stay at Nana's?

We pull away from the house.  I look for my mom in the window and wave.  I tell Ching to beep the horn--that's what we did when I grew up.  Rachel falls asleep in about 90 seconds.  Laurel dozes every now and then.  But it's not an easy ride.  Mom served cheesecake for dessert and you know that Mr Ching Wang has a touch of lactose intolerance.