I feel like I have been caught jamming a whole lot of cake in my mouth.

I was caught...

Every Wednesday, we have a sitter that picks up the girls from school and makes them dinner.  This gives Ching and me three hours to do other things but predominantly to stay at work.  I have all these little things to get done and today was a sucky focus day.  But my toes have chipped nail polish and quite frankly, they nails need to be cut.  (I like it when they cut my nails for me.  They get them so straight across.  I tend to produce weird ass slants.)  I said, "freak it" while I packed up my computer to get the small things done from home but after I go get a pedicure.

From Ching and the girl's perspective, I am still at work, but in reality, I am in a massage chair soaking in bubbly warm water.  I know I shouldn't feel guilty but I do.  I am sure this tendency is explained in many books either about being on the brink or not leaning in enough.  Last week, I saw a list of 23 things that women shouldn't do but do anyway.  Tell me something I don't know--maybe that should be number 24 for the author.

So as I am finishing up feeling like I have pulled a fast one on the other Wangs.  My toes look great and my skin is much softer.  This was totally worth it.  But then it happens...another mom brought her daughter, who is a friend of Laurel's, for a manicure.  I feel like I have been caught jamming a whole lot of cake in my mouth.  I see the mom but she doesn't see me yet.  Not only do I a feel busted but then I have to do that little pep talk--"nothing inappropriate, nothing awkward."  Then the voices start to bicker inside my head--"I should at least say hi."  "I should only say hi if she sees me."  Or, my fave, "screw her, she just ruined my cover."

The mother isn't judgmental--she doesn't care that I am there.  It's that her daughter is going to tell Laurel that I was there getting my toes down as she was getting a manicure. Jesus Christ, when did this become junior high?  Because I introduced Laurel to the world of mani/pedi's, she now feels entitled.

The mom sees me and I am able to be very proper:  "Nice to see you.  Hi there (to the girl).  Enjoy your manicures."  Wow, sometimes I do have a stick up my butt that makes me very salutary.  But regardless, I skulk out of there likes it's a strip club and I am dirty and smelling like broad.

I must have a look of deceit when I walk into the house.  Laurel's eyes goes right down to my toes and she says, "Nice color.  When did you get that done?"  I avoid the question, knowing that she is going to find out tomorrow.

(And this is #400...thank you for reading.)

You know how some people can't wait to take off uncomfortable undergarments as soon as they get home--my filter is my uncomfortable undergarment.

I woke up with the feeling of dread.  All day this event just looming over me like a dark cloud.  Tonight is the Cabot Community Dinner.  It's a back to school dinner that gets parents and kids together with pizza, sweets and a DJ.

First of all, it's on a Tuesday--the worse day of the week.  By Tuesday night, you are elbow deep in your typical weekly crap and the week isn't even half way done.  Secondly, I have no urge to be social and correct.  To be correct means keeping the filter on.  All day at work, I focus and have that filter on but as soon as I get through the door, the filter is off.  You know how some people can't wait to take off uncomfortable undergarments as soon as they get home--my filter is my uncomfortable undergarment.

Ching gets there first because he has volunteered to sell tickets (Slices of pizza, juice boxes and desserts are purchased with tickets.)  I am just going to show up.  For Christ's sake, I have been nice all day.

I don't like these things.  I am okay in smaller classroom settings with parents on either side of me.  But this is a sea of adults and kids and I don't want to walk up to someone and strike up a conversation (and probably say something inappropriate and awkward is the filter isn't on tight enough). Of course the one conversation I will have will be right near the DJ booth and I won't be able to hear a God damn thing.

I am okay with not being friends with other mothers at Laurel's school.  I am okay with this because I have friends, they are just not mothers at this school.  Maybe eventually, when I figure out who Laurel's real bestie is and I will make the effort.  But right now I am friendless at Cabot Elementary and I am okay with that.

So when I get home and change my clothes, I can all ready hear the DJ in the field. I look at the clock and let myself know that this will be over in 90 minutes.

I get there and Laurel wants me to join her on the "dance grass" and do the swing dance.  I just twirl her a bit and then Rachel is like a magnet wanted to twirl too.  With all of twirling going on, this is when a mom comes up to me.  Sure as shit...the one mom that talks to me is right by a speaker.  I think I talked about volunteering on picture day.

Ching is sitting among the ladies selling tickets.  I am somewhat amused but proud at the same time.  There are several woman volunteers and one dude.  That one dude is my man, Mr. Ching Wang.  I am curious how that conversation is going--wondering if it's about activities, new teachers or a lack of focus.  Hearing about other kids and their lack of focus calms him down.

As Rachel wants to spin to the music, I decide that I don't need to talk to anyone....because with this spinning I may throw up.  I notice Laurel dancing and realize that her pants are too small.  I am also question those moves and may have to curb her Katy Perry watching.  And why is she dancing in her socks?  Where the hell are her sneakers?

I look around and notice other parents that are just standing, watching like zombies.  I don't think they want to talk either.  Maybe they also realize, like me, that they have eight more of these dinners in the future until all kids are in junior high.

Before the last song, they announce there is a parents only event on 9/27.  I really don't see myself going to that event either.

She probably has all organic vegan menu flown in with a Beverly Hills blessing to always have perky boobs on the side.

"You know Laurel, that's not what Katy Perry would do."

Holy Shit--it worked!

Lately, Laurel has been obsessed with Katy Perry.  She has been watching all of her videos, behind the scenes of the videos and dancing to all the songs.  While Katy Perry isn't my taste, I don't mind.  I don't think she is going to last more that a few more years.  She seems so processed and fits perfectly into the mold of the minute..."Sweet Girl in Love" then "Pissed Divorcee'" and now "Strong Woman with a Voice" all the while dating Taylor Swift's sloppy seconds and ripping off a Sarah Bareilles song.

So when Laurel just wanted plain spaghetti for dinner (again!), I told her that I read about Katy Perry's diet--she eats a lot of chicken for strength.  (I know I am blatantly lying.  She probably has all organic vegan menu flown in with a Beverly Hills blessing to always have perky boobs on the side.)  But Laurel agreed--while she only ate a bite, it was one bite more than last night!

This could work for so many other things:
Homework:  Katy Perry makes sure that she always does her homework.  Her homework is making sure to know all about her audience and what songs they would like to hear.
Going to Bed Earlier:  Katy Perry gets 10 hours a sleep a night--how do you think she looks so good frolicking with elephants?
Brushing Teeth:  How do you think she eats all that candy from her California Girls video while maintaining a healthy smile?  "You know Laurel, you just can't buy white teeth."

But then again, this could backfire:
Skin Tight Jeans:  "And no Laurel, you are not going to be some one's teenage dream."
Brushing Hair:  "Laurel, I am sure that she still brushes her hair under her blue wig.  And no, you cannot have a blue wig."
Covering Up:  Honestly--I may not have to worry about boobs hanging out especially if she takes after me. But I will remain alert.

But again, we are talking about one bite of non-chicken-nugget chicken!  I am totally going with that.

Now, I lie and wait to see who Rachel starts to emulate.....

My inner bitch finds solace that she is sporting a scrunchy.

This past week marked an event that is considered blog gold for me--it was Open House at Laurel's school. Last year was the nut butter incident so this year, my guard is up.  Also, I just make sure I am close to the door.

The event doesn't start out that great because it's 93 degrees out and the Pike was jammed due to an accident.  I arrive seven minutes late (but I look pretty good, I will give myself that) as do other parents with similar commutes.  While I come in during the presentation, I find that it's the same one as last year and the year before that.  This version just happens to be for 2nd grade.

Surprisingly, the presentation goes by pretty quickly which is good because sweat is dripping down my legs.  I do brace myself for the Q+A period and true to form, there is a question that has nothing to do with the group but for one individual family.  And then there is a question from a low speaking bitchy mom that gets aggravated that she has to repeat herself.  (Yeah, your kid sucks too.)  My inner bitch finds solace that she is sporting a scrunchy.

Finally, the group is broken up into the individual classrooms and I get to check out Laurel's stuff. And her teacher...who looks really, really young.  Good Lord, she doesn't even look like she has gone through puberty yet.  Never the less, I put that aside because she was a very good speaker during the presentation and Laurel loves her.  I am also trying to be on my best behavior.  This type of event usually brings out my non-filter personality which leads me to say awkward things at inappropriate times.  

Laurel leaves a written letter telling my what she likes about school and what she would like to do this year.  Her first goal is to make more friends.  Out loud, I say, "more friends?  You wanted 40 of your besties at last year's birthday party!"  Other parents are looking at me wondering who I was talking to and why am I questioning more friends?  And I start coughing, like that is going to camouflage my babbling.

Then I see another writing project that states her favorite part of 1st grade was homework.  That is such a blatant suck up and lie!  And I don't keep this to myself either.  I also don't even notice if parents are slowly inching away from me.  

I don't care because I have the task of introducing myself to Laurel's teacher.  As I am waiting my turn I am next to one of Laurel's best friend's mom.  I like her very much and am always astounded by her time management.  She is volunteering to be a classroom mom.  I inch away from her and avoid eye contact with the teacher.  I want to make is clear that I am not volunteering.  This mom (of two adopted Chinese girls) offers all sorts of resources for the social studies project on China.  I am then reminded that my Chinese husband may not even remember that he is Chinese.  

Still waiting for my intro turn and I notice the nut butter mom!  Her daughter must be in this class.  She has a baby strapped to the front of her and is sporting huge side boob---Oh my God, please start feeding your kid in here.  Whip it out and let all the dads either stare or squick out!  And she doesn't...oh well.  (Thankfully I kept that request silent.)

Oh my turn...

JCW:  "Hi.  I wanted to introduce myself.  My name is Jude Carlson-Wang.  I am Laurel's mom. She thinks very highly of you."

Laurel's teacher:  "Oh Laurel--she is a very charming, independent girl."

JCW:  "Yeah, I don't know where she gets that.  I don't think she is my kid."

L's T:  stares blankly

I need to stop doing this......

I have no time to think about this...I have Bertolli in a bag to heat at high heat for 4 minutes and let simmer for 8 and then dinner is made.

As I face my first pick up of both girls in the new school year, I wonder if it will feel different.  Will I be calmer?  Can I get both girls with time to spare?

The commute is packed but runs smoothly.  I talk to myself as usual.  Curse the guy in the work parking lot that had no inkling to look to his left as he screamed out of his parking space and could have hit me.  I realize that I am low on gas but have no idea where the gas latch is---JCW, when getting a new car, you should probably spend time on the basics before setting station favorites on the radio.  Yeah, this feels about the same.

I will pick up Rachel first.  She will sense the time crunch and hold me hostage showing everyone her "chicka chicka boom boom" dance.  Knowing that her cuteness can't be rushed, she then will invite four of her besties over for a play date.  I will push her out the door promising other parents a call or an e-mail since Rachel has now made me the host.

The whole city of Newton will be trying to get home at the same time.  And no one is using the main way; we will all try to get home faster by using side streets.  In this rush, I will decide that I will not be doing my standard grilled pork with sauteed kale and a couscous stuffed grilled yellow bell pepper.  Nope, I am doing Bertolli out of a bag.  I shouldn't because gluten has been kicking my ass lately.  But I will, to save time--more on that later.

We will finally reach Laurel's school with five minutes to spare.  Like Rachel, Laurel will also think she is the hostess with the mostest and want to invite everyone over too.  Including this one girl who's mom never returned my calls over the summer. It will get awkward when she does one of those weak..."Summer was so busy."  Whatev...I won't care.  Maybe you think Laurel is that kid in your household but I doubt that.  I have no time to think about this...I have Bertolli in a bag to heat at high heat for 4 minutes and let simmer for 8 and then dinner is made.

I will listen to Ching feeling wronged by some wild animal.  It's not the squirrels but raccoons now.  They were in the trash again (because the cans were not in the garage) and one left a poop present right on the lid. Nothing squicks Ching more than poop and now it's war.  He mentioned trapping them but at that point, I will tell myself to ignore and focus on my Bertolli in a bag.

As I rush to get dinner in front of everyone, the window guy will arrive.  That's right; Ching got sucked into a window installation demo at BJ's and now some guy is coming over to give an estimate.  This will suck--there is nothing worse than being at work all day in a sales job and then coming home and being the audience.  I will notice all of his confirmations that we are following his presentation.  (Seem okay?)  I will notice how he will try to ingratiate himself to me by cluing in on my Connecticut shirt and then asking me, what my major was?  What is this a freakin' frat party?   He will tell us how cute the girls are--tell me something that I don't know, Skippy.  While Ching has promised me that this will only be 30 minutes, I am pretty sure James the Window Guy will be here for two hours.

And I am as right as rain on almost everything--the gluten filled Bertolli didn't kicked my ass.  The bag stated 2 servings but it was really only a regular Ching serving and small Rachel serving. (Laurel ate something totally different.)   I ate left over quinoa and grilled chicken.   The people behind me on the treadmill tomorrow will totally appreciate this.  I know...because I just seem to know the routine.

You are certainly not going to see a picture of me, full bitch face, bloated and yelling at my girls.

Recently I posted a family picture on Facebook.  I am consistently humbled at how many people will comment about how beautiful my family is or just the niceness of the picture.  But I will also laugh, when people say that I look great based on these pictures--of course I do.  I only post the good ones.  You are certainly not going to see a picture of me, full bitch face, bloated and yelling at my girls.  I know there is probably one lurking out there but I am not going to post that willingly.

When I look at the Wangs in this latest family photo--I wonder if people know the possibility of what was going on before the picture was taken.  Or can you see what I see?

The first obvious is that constant of Rachel being held by Ching and Laurel sticking next to me.  This pairing always happens and while I should prevent it and mix it up a bit, I don't.  It doesn't see the point--until I lose some trivia game when it's "Team Smarties", C+R, vs. "Team Looks Good", J+L.

Then, let's look at Laurel.  While her hair is nicely brushed, it took awhile to get that way before the picture.  She has long, thick hair that gets very tangled but she hates brushing it..  If it is not brushed, it looks like a bad weave with a family of mice tucked in there.

To her right, is me.  Knowing that I wanted to have this picture taken on our only family vacation of the year, I straightened my hair and put make-up on to look casually natural.  But I am still critical--I think my teeth look a little yellowy and I didn't suck in my stomach.  (When did this become a norm for me?  Picture being taken--suck in your stomach.  Walking the floor at work--suck in your stomach.  Dropping Rachel off at daycare--suck in your stomach.  Running errands--suck in your stomach.  It's not a habit that I am proud of and it really bites.)

Rachel, who is sitting on Ching's lap is being typical Rachel.  We have to take several pictures because she won't look at the camera or she is acting goofy.  (If you ask her if she is goofy--she will correct you and say that she is minnie--no joke.)  So the picture that you see is one of 20.

Unfortunately Ching doesn't get a lot of my attention.  I am hoping he can fend for himself.  I am just hoping that his eyes are open in the picture but not too wide (to avoid that "I have just been jabbed with a cattle prod" look) and his mouth is closed.

This picture wasn't a casual--"oh, let's take a Wang family photo".  It was a "Rachel needs a family photo in her class--we need to get this done."  To actually make the effort and sit down and do this takes some effort.  The picture is fine and does the job.  And until next year when she needs another one...this one will have to do...

Have you noticed that this time of year turns into a total pissing contest between mothers comparing how fast their Johnnie grows...Punch me in the face if I ever do that.

With the collage of back to school pictures posted on Facebook, mine included, there was a common question:  Where did the time go?  Maybe the question pops into any parent's head when they are comparing pictures from previous years or crying over back to school costs.  "No, you don't need those school supplies, I will just find them under the bed" or "I just bought you new sneakers."

(Hey total aside, have you noticed that this time of year turns into a total pissing contest between mothers comparing how fast their Johnnie grows--"he grew two sizes over the summer!"  Punch me in the face if I ever do that.)

But I look at my girls and know exactly where my time went:
1.  Sleep--and never enough.  Or sleep when I am sharing a bed with a kid who wants to "cuddle, cuddle" only to end up kicking me in places that I shouldn't be kicked in the dead of night.
2.  Food prep--but not meals but snacks, every 20 freakin' minutes.
3.  Play dates/Birthday Parties--Coordination of times, wooing certain parents that we like and want their kid to come over and avoiding certain others.
4.  Reasoning, Bargaining, Ultimatums and Begging--usually in public places.  Laurel is out of that stage.  Rachel is in the stage and I think it's going to stick around until she is 22.
5.  Diapering and/or toileting:  With diapering there was always the amazement of frequency, and later in this stage, punch.  Now, it is running to the potty with Rachel or standing outside the bathroom with Laurel because she doesn't want to be alone.
6.  Discovery--The joy of something sweet or the disgust of something that they will never touch again.  "But I don't like fish."
7.  Books read...over and over.  We whittled Laurel down from 7 books a night to 15 pages out of a chapter book--Rachel just likes one--no more, no less.
8.  Queuing up DVR or On Demand and then pulling them away when they have had enough.
9.  Lots of giggles from Laurel and Santa like belly laughs from Rachel--and usually this is at the dinner table when I would just like to have a nice sane meal.
10. Answering the impossible question--Mom, how who you describe describe?  Why was I born?  Basically I either defer to Wikipedia or claim I didn't hear and get into the bathroom.  Let Ching deal with it.

And that just scratches the surface.  I didn't even mention all the trips to McDonald's.....but I have my blog so I remember everything.

And Ching's 40th birthday is lurking...I joke, but there is no way I am twerking for that mo'fo.

As I kneel....

To whom it may concern in the heavens,
The autumnal Gods..who am I kidding...Goddesses.
Dear Autumnal Goddesses,

I don't know what I have to do to get this right, but please let me have my act together for the school year. This time of year always feels like a make it or break it time.  If I don't start out on the right foot, I feel like I am behind well until March.  (By then, I just give up.)  I believe I am on the right path...

I have made the necessary lists of tasks that I need to get started right now (with an exclamation point):  I have the next three months mapped on for any events, holidays that regular people don't take off and early dismissal.  Picture Day is marked down along with that sucky non-holiday known as Halloween.

So that leads to tasks that must get finished by the end of the month:  Halloween costumes need to be chosen and ordered--because I don't make them.  An inventory of jackets, hats, mittens and boots needs to be done to see what the girls need.  (I guess I will wear the same coat that I have been wearing since 2004.)  Nothing sucks more than that first cold snap and not being able to find a matching pair of mittens.  Laurel's school clothes shopping needs to be finished--I did warm weather stuff first.  Warmer clothes will be done mid-month.  And Ching's 40th birthday is lurking...I joke, but there is no way I am twerking for that mo'fo.  (He has been pissing me off lately.)  But I need to plan something.

I have also mapped all the weekend activities--3 different activities for each girl with separate times.  I am not sure when I am going to have to time to do basics like peeing.

And then it's football season.  I don't think it would be too much to ask if we could have one winning season with either the BC Eagles, Miami Hurricanes or the Minnesota Vikings...but this is a stretch because they really suck.  So Ching will be pissy and I will quell his sorrow with meatloaf or heavy pasta dishes.

I have all ready tried to get on your good side.  All the girls new school year forms have been filled out with exactly the same information that I have the school that last year and the year before that.  Regardless of that...they are filled out and all ready packed in their bags for tomorrow.

I am trying.  Come on....throw a sister a bone.

Regards,
Jude Carlson-Wang

We did come to the agreement that once school starts...undies all the way.

And the summer's over.  Every year I am absolutely astounded how fast if flies and the fact that people still complain about the heat like it's a surprise.  These complainers weren't as annoying as those clowns that felt the need to take a picture of their car temp and post it on Facebook.  What was this--a God damn competition or a head's up?  Like I didn't know it was hot out?

Anywhoo, I would like to tell you some of the highlights:

Rachel is officially on the potty with success!  She feels real shame if she has an accident and I don't feel bad...just in case she is toying with me.  The only bad thing about potty training a child is that you start using the word "potty" like it's a normal word.  Just last week, I told someone that I was going to the potty rather than saying I was going to the ladies room.  But whatev, I am $50 a month richer and I am trying to finagle that savings right to JCW.

Ching and I actually accomplished a lot of projects--hired a new babysitter, got a new driveway, a newly leased car and have picked out paints for a September painting project.  All of this without pouting or passive aggression...wow, acting adult...who would have thought?

My white linen work pants got through another summer unstained!  Every wearing I felt like I was tempting a fate that I recently pissed off...but nope, still bright white.

Rachel started using very "big kid" words over the summer.  Words like "disgusting", "cool", "awesome" to name a few.  Her delivery is spot on and it just makes me laugh coming out of her little body that she is becoming a kid and not a toddler.  I also know that it's just a matter of time when she starts to mimic my swears that just happen to slip.

Laurel discovered the art of going commando.  At camp, she decided that it was a pain to put undies after changing out of her swimsuit.  I argued a bit and then gave in.  I decided to pick my battles and this wasn't one especially since her shorts are rather long.  We did come to the agreement that once school starts...undies all the way.  But Ching didn't care for this at all...you haven't lived until you hear your husband scream, "Laurel, we are not leaving the house until you put underwear on!"  God, I didn't think that would happen so soon...I thought I was in the free and clear for that one until 2022...obviously not.

And the summer ended with getting a 2nd grade class list for Laurel that I loved.  A couple of kids that I wanted to separate Laurel from are in another class.  Kids that I really like (along with their parents) are all in the same class!  Except I am prepared for that sleeper pain in the ass...it's inevitable and it will make my blog just a little richer.

And with that...the school year may commence...Oh Christ.

I took my time with it, remained calmed and realized that it wasn't some 20 year old flat-assed white girl with grungy looking tongue and a bad voice that was making me mad.

During my break from my blog, nothing screamed to me to get back to typing as the Miley Cyrus performance of last Sunday.  I took my time with it, remained calmed and realized that it wasn't some 20 year old flat-assed white girl with grungy looking tongue and a bad voice that was making me mad.  It was the song that was being performed with Robin Thicke, Blurred Lines, that was making me mad...at myself. This song is a constant reminder at how lax I am as a mother.

The radio has absolutely blown up with this song.  And I love it--it's a different, retro type of beat.  I can't get tired of it--I listen to it during my drive to and from work as well as during my run in the afternoon.  But it's a bad song--have you, not listened to the "radio friendly" lyrics but read what they are actually saying?  It rubs against every female sensibility that I was taught.  Regardless, I still listen and, even giggle at what is "blurred" out over the airwaves.  And Laurel listens to it too.  She likes it but has no idea what is being said and I leave it at that.

But then this performance happens.  Everyone is appalled--the twerking, the foam finger, etc.  (I only know one person who was smart enough to point out the atrocious geriatric shoes.)  But I really didn't hear a lot about the song.  I really didn't need too--I shouldn't let my girls listen to that song just like I shouldn't let them watch those obnoxious Disney tween shows or use the Ipad for hours.  This song is just another nail into the coffin of bad freakin' motherhood.  It's really going to bite me in the ass when Rachel will randomly ask, "What rhymes with hug me?"  And I know she is going to ask loudly, in front of several people.

For some reason, the focus is on a poorly executed twerk.  (That wasn't twerking--there is a very nice woman out of the South Bronx named Sweet Boogie who does an excellent tutorial on YouTube.  Good twerking is about a good squat.  Perhaps Miley forgot that move because she was obsessed with her tongue.)  The focus should be on a very well played song.  But this song is still going to be played and played by me...but only when I am alone.