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...

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

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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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.