Sometimes Lulo is so cute, I call him ugly a la Shug, "you sho' is ugly".
And he is so skinny with little chicken legs, so I tell him to move his big, fat butt.
I know that this is probably not a great idea because one day he will call someone who is morbidly obese "big, fat, and ugly" and I will be really, really embarrassed but for now...it's one of the ways I joke with him. He seems to be saying it in jest too. Also, when he calls me big and fat these days, I like to pretend it's a compliment even though I am approaching maximum density.
Anyhow, I did not breast feed and my general opinion on breast feeding can be left to a whole different post. However, I think this may be why Lulo has not gotten the right word for "breasts" down. He keeps calling them "hips" and I have not wanted to correct him because (1) it is funny and (2) I really don't want him walking around saying the word "breasts" or other related euphemism/slang term to every female on the planet.
This is all relevant because tonight, after I tucked him in, he told me I had "big fat hips". And I said, "what is big and fat?" And he pointed to my "breasts" and I thought this was going nowhere good.
So, I told him, "these are not hips Lulo, these (pointing to actual breasts) are called breasts. THESE (pointing to actual large ass) are hips."
He says "THOSE TAKE BREATHS. HOW?" Eyes bulging.
"No, no, not breaths. Breasts."
"How do they take breaths?"
"They don't take breaths, they make milk."
"When do they make milk, how?"
"Um, uh, good night Lulo. Go to bed now."
"I want to call them hips since they don't take breaths. Big, fat hips."
"OK, Good Night."
"Good night."
Monday, November 8, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Selfish
He's always been a good sleeper. He used to go to bed with less difficulty. He didn't used to need an escort to the bathroom. He didn't complain about the air conditioning being on. He didn't imagine noises or manage to find the movement of hangers in my closet to be a disturbing sound. He used to just go to bed. Now, there is a whole slew of nonsense that accompanies his bedtime rituals before nap and at night. I think it is worse because of the two flights of stairs to get to the little face that now can peer over the banister. Or maybe it's just annoying to take someone to pee only to have to run up again to escort him to poop not 3 minutes later. And then go up again to hear a "secret".
It's really irrelevant. Because after all that time getting him to go to bed and then finally, impatiently threatening his life if he comes out of bed again, I go in there around 10 p.m. I remove the door prop, I fix his blankets, I put all the askew body parts in place, and I kiss his temple. I suck in a deep whiff and fill up all my senses with his smell. I fill up my lungs with the newborn scent that somehow still accompanies him and the mildewy sent that resides on his stuffed elephant. I am, at that moment, aware of the warmth that rises from him and enjoy it. I don't miss him. I don't want to hang out with him. I don't want him to wake up. I really really don't want him to wake up. I just want to be there with him. Breathing him in. Enjoying his peacefulness. Appreciating his long limbs and how he developing into this little boy. Accepting how lucky I am to have him there, like that, as he is.
It's really irrelevant. Because after all that time getting him to go to bed and then finally, impatiently threatening his life if he comes out of bed again, I go in there around 10 p.m. I remove the door prop, I fix his blankets, I put all the askew body parts in place, and I kiss his temple. I suck in a deep whiff and fill up all my senses with his smell. I fill up my lungs with the newborn scent that somehow still accompanies him and the mildewy sent that resides on his stuffed elephant. I am, at that moment, aware of the warmth that rises from him and enjoy it. I don't miss him. I don't want to hang out with him. I don't want him to wake up. I really really don't want him to wake up. I just want to be there with him. Breathing him in. Enjoying his peacefulness. Appreciating his long limbs and how he developing into this little boy. Accepting how lucky I am to have him there, like that, as he is.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Make a Lovely Light
A friend of J's stopped by tonight because J had volunteered me to draft a stern letter to a clothing designer who is refusing to produce his daughter's dresses (yes, plural) for her Sweet 16 birthday party.
So, I am talking to the guy, who was the sweetest, most down to earth dude to ever. He was in messy clothes with dirty hands and tired from a hard day doing manly man's work. And then, to my shock and amazement, he utters the words..."two of her three dresses will not be ready and the quinciniera is only two weeks away!" Well, dear me.
So, because I have watched a couple (dozen) episodes of Sweet 16 on MTV, I jokingly say, "is she making her entrance on a horse?" And he says, "no, an ELEPHANT." And I had no words, for the first time in 15 minutes. Apparently, the dress in which she is making her "grand entrance" on the elephant is one of the dresses that won't be ready. You can't just go buy one of those dresses at the mall, he explains. OhhhhK.
After realizing that he wasn't joking, I ask him a few lawyer like type questions. Tell him he ought to have a Plan B, etc. etc. Then, I once again make a little jokey and I say, "so, are you buying her a Porsche to drive off in." His eyes got big and he said, "how did you know?" She will indeed be driving off in a Porsche from the first private event ever held at one of the Fairplex buildings.
The weird thing was he did not seem like one of those over the top, ridiculous Dads on MTV's Sweet 16. He had a twinkle in his eyes. He was tired and hard working and in love with his little girl. He was proud to his core of how she has overcome her learning disabilities and is competing in her classes, how she is now the Vice President of her high school class, how she is a good girl who is far exceeding his expectations. I don't know. I didn't get irritated despite being flabbergasted by a show of excess that I typically mock. I liked the dude.
Anyhow, let's just stick this on my list of why I like having boys. I can just go paint balling with them and let them drive off of the junkyard with a car that they can rebuild. Now, that's a Sweet 16 I can look forward to.
So, I am talking to the guy, who was the sweetest, most down to earth dude to ever. He was in messy clothes with dirty hands and tired from a hard day doing manly man's work. And then, to my shock and amazement, he utters the words..."two of her three dresses will not be ready and the quinciniera is only two weeks away!" Well, dear me.
So, because I have watched a couple (dozen) episodes of Sweet 16 on MTV, I jokingly say, "is she making her entrance on a horse?" And he says, "no, an ELEPHANT." And I had no words, for the first time in 15 minutes. Apparently, the dress in which she is making her "grand entrance" on the elephant is one of the dresses that won't be ready. You can't just go buy one of those dresses at the mall, he explains. OhhhhK.
After realizing that he wasn't joking, I ask him a few lawyer like type questions. Tell him he ought to have a Plan B, etc. etc. Then, I once again make a little jokey and I say, "so, are you buying her a Porsche to drive off in." His eyes got big and he said, "how did you know?" She will indeed be driving off in a Porsche from the first private event ever held at one of the Fairplex buildings.
The weird thing was he did not seem like one of those over the top, ridiculous Dads on MTV's Sweet 16. He had a twinkle in his eyes. He was tired and hard working and in love with his little girl. He was proud to his core of how she has overcome her learning disabilities and is competing in her classes, how she is now the Vice President of her high school class, how she is a good girl who is far exceeding his expectations. I don't know. I didn't get irritated despite being flabbergasted by a show of excess that I typically mock. I liked the dude.
Anyhow, let's just stick this on my list of why I like having boys. I can just go paint balling with them and let them drive off of the junkyard with a car that they can rebuild. Now, that's a Sweet 16 I can look forward to.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Driving with Joe Friday
We were driving home from school today taking the many twists and turns up the hill to my house and I was in my own little zone. I have, after all, gone up and down this his 12,000 times. Luk was mowing on a cookie in the back; I was thinking about how much needed doing when I walked in the door.
And all of a sudden Luk says, that was a STOP sign and you didn't stop. I was like, "um, yes I did." He said, "no you didn't, S-T-O-P is STOOOOOOOOOP and you didn't."
So, "Um, Uh, I slowed down."
"That isn't stopping. S-T-O-P, STOOOOOOOP!"
Frankly, it's too soon for him to be commenting on my driving and I didn't appreciate it.
And all of a sudden Luk says, that was a STOP sign and you didn't stop. I was like, "um, yes I did." He said, "no you didn't, S-T-O-P is STOOOOOOOOOP and you didn't."
So, "Um, Uh, I slowed down."
"That isn't stopping. S-T-O-P, STOOOOOOOP!"
Frankly, it's too soon for him to be commenting on my driving and I didn't appreciate it.
Monday, October 4, 2010
You Can Take the Boy Out of Egypt But You Can't Take the Egypt Out of the Boy
Today, I went to go retrieve the boys from school. I got the twins first because Lulo was still eating lunch when I spied him.
When I got to the twins classroom, they asked me if the boys had slept alright the night before. I said that they had. She said that they were "out of sorts" and whiny. She then mentioned that maybe they were getting sick or something and to keep any eye out.
She also mentioned that Juju got frustrated and when the teacher turned around...he took his shoe off and chucked it at her.
Nice. Sigh.
When I got to the twins classroom, they asked me if the boys had slept alright the night before. I said that they had. She said that they were "out of sorts" and whiny. She then mentioned that maybe they were getting sick or something and to keep any eye out.
She also mentioned that Juju got frustrated and when the teacher turned around...he took his shoe off and chucked it at her.
Nice. Sigh.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Four
When I was pregnant with Lulo, the pregnancy was uneventful (other than the typical puking and the first time Mommy nerves.) Giving birth was as smooth as it could go. Recovery was fast. The OB told me that I was made to birth babies. Lulo was a hearty 9 lbs, 6 ozs. He ate (formula) like a champ. He smiled early, walked late. He slept on a schedule at 6 weeks. He played and jabbered quietly in his bed when he woke up. We had our moments but he was such a good baby that I was ready to try again when he was 10 months old. I was so, so dumb.
The minute after everyone left his first birthday party...I puked and puked and puked. I was pregnant again. Of course, that was the twin pregnancy...a pregnancy that made the 2nd year of Lukas' life a total blur. I watched him from afar as my Mom took care of him for several months while I was hospitalized. I think I will be making up for this lost year my whole life...for now...Lulo gets away with more, he is my Mama's boy. I am strict with him but he has a special place in my heart. I can tell already that we are alike in temperament, humor, and attitude. That means one day, we'll be at war. Sometimes we already are. But, damn, I like that kid.
Tomorrow my Lulo turns four. He has his moments but the other Moms tell me how smiley and polite he is. Isn't that rad? Everyone says that every time they see Lulo...he is smiling. I can't be messing him up that bad. He is a crack up who smiles all the time. The teacher is impressed by his focus and his memorization skills. He is a good kid. I am a lucky Mama.
Funny Little Things That I Want to Remember about Lulo on the Eve of his Birthday:
The minute after everyone left his first birthday party...I puked and puked and puked. I was pregnant again. Of course, that was the twin pregnancy...a pregnancy that made the 2nd year of Lukas' life a total blur. I watched him from afar as my Mom took care of him for several months while I was hospitalized. I think I will be making up for this lost year my whole life...for now...Lulo gets away with more, he is my Mama's boy. I am strict with him but he has a special place in my heart. I can tell already that we are alike in temperament, humor, and attitude. That means one day, we'll be at war. Sometimes we already are. But, damn, I like that kid.
Tomorrow my Lulo turns four. He has his moments but the other Moms tell me how smiley and polite he is. Isn't that rad? Everyone says that every time they see Lulo...he is smiling. I can't be messing him up that bad. He is a crack up who smiles all the time. The teacher is impressed by his focus and his memorization skills. He is a good kid. I am a lucky Mama.
Funny Little Things That I Want to Remember about Lulo on the Eve of his Birthday:
- He bites his lower lip when he is doing crafts. We've been doing little ones before bed lately. He thinks so hard but is so proud of his creations.
- He is still obsessed with elephants.
- He still sucks his thumb.
- He "reads" books alone when he wakes up in the morning.
- He knows his alphabet and numbers, is trying to read, knows every animal. Every. Animal. Scarlet Macaw, Tapir, Sloth, Pygmy Marmoset.
- He likes to sleep in his underwear. No more shorts or pants.
- He has to wear socks that are really stretched out. The older and crappier, the better. He calls them "cool socks".
- He asks me to tickle him. Then begs me to stop, over and over.
- He is starting to play with his brothers and really incorporating them in games and make believe.
- He sings and makes up little songs. He has a nice voice.
- He says "I am having a tough time" and "I need a break". Really.
- He loves sweets, fruits, and vegetables. He is picky about meats.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Maybe One Day
This morning, I just needed to go diarrhea and not have two little midgets fighting and ripping the doorknob out of the door to get in. I needed to focus on the diarrhea and the heat that was rising up my torso. The burn in my stomach. The accompanying nausea. To not be able to go diarrhea in peace anymore, it's just not a good turn of events. I couldn't really put it off or hold it until I had some help. When you have to go, you have to go. And then after banging at my door incessantly, while I suffered, for about four minutes. I began to hear them throw toys around...grab for things to high for them. Make a mess. Fight with each other. And then, that was almost worse because someone losing an eye while I had diarrhea would also be a poor direction for the day to take.
How do you explain that to the ER? I left my three children under the age of four to kill each other because I did not want a pool of poop on my floor that belonged to me instead of them.
I haven't been well since Sunday and I am not pleased.
How do you explain that to the ER? I left my three children under the age of four to kill each other because I did not want a pool of poop on my floor that belonged to me instead of them.
I haven't been well since Sunday and I am not pleased.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Come Home Now.
My husband and I have our own practice that does not require us to "go into an office". I think this is a blessing the vast majority of the time - no commute, a very lax dress code, easy snacks, and short visits with the kids when I choose.
The downside of course, is that sometimes, sitting back to back with my husband every day, five days a week, is less than joyful. I think couples are meant to be apart sometimes. He is a good person and I like him but you just can't hear the same person's voice all the time. It's going to get less interesting at some point.
Of the two of us, I am actually the one that gets out more. I go pick up the kids from school. I do the grocery shopping. And, I am the one who does the "networking". I have a leadership role in a local organization that has me out and about usually once a week. So, he gets to be "home alone" much more than I do. It's nice to be home alone and when J leaves I sort of savor those days. I still do everything I normally do but it's like a little break from his commentary, the tap tap of his keyboard, the buzzing of his cell phone, the telling me to get off Facebook and bill...you know what I mean?
Well, today, he was gone. All day. He left at 10 and still is not back and it's 7:30. I miss him. Is that weird? I sort of got sad during the kids' bedtime when I was doing it alone. It is now doable to put all 3 kids down by myself. But, it was sad. He has this fabulous energy at bed time where we run around dancing and he flings the children onto our huge bean bag and he wrestles with them. The kids pretty much adore him and watch him like he is a hero. They laugh from their bellies when he is there. Frankly, my fling onto the bean bag was sorry...at best. I think I also hurt my wrist while flinging our heavy boned 39 lb twin. No bueno. I also don't do good "voices" when we read and my tolerance for nonsense is low.
I really like J. I am lucky not just for the short commute down the stairs but the short commute down the stairs to see J, who works hard into the wee hours and yet still makes appearances for snuggling with the kids and putting trains together with Lulo as his prize for being "respectful" and sharing with his brothers. It's nice to have J around - I want him to come home now. I am all done with being "home alone."
The downside of course, is that sometimes, sitting back to back with my husband every day, five days a week, is less than joyful. I think couples are meant to be apart sometimes. He is a good person and I like him but you just can't hear the same person's voice all the time. It's going to get less interesting at some point.
Of the two of us, I am actually the one that gets out more. I go pick up the kids from school. I do the grocery shopping. And, I am the one who does the "networking". I have a leadership role in a local organization that has me out and about usually once a week. So, he gets to be "home alone" much more than I do. It's nice to be home alone and when J leaves I sort of savor those days. I still do everything I normally do but it's like a little break from his commentary, the tap tap of his keyboard, the buzzing of his cell phone, the telling me to get off Facebook and bill...you know what I mean?
Well, today, he was gone. All day. He left at 10 and still is not back and it's 7:30. I miss him. Is that weird? I sort of got sad during the kids' bedtime when I was doing it alone. It is now doable to put all 3 kids down by myself. But, it was sad. He has this fabulous energy at bed time where we run around dancing and he flings the children onto our huge bean bag and he wrestles with them. The kids pretty much adore him and watch him like he is a hero. They laugh from their bellies when he is there. Frankly, my fling onto the bean bag was sorry...at best. I think I also hurt my wrist while flinging our heavy boned 39 lb twin. No bueno. I also don't do good "voices" when we read and my tolerance for nonsense is low.
I really like J. I am lucky not just for the short commute down the stairs but the short commute down the stairs to see J, who works hard into the wee hours and yet still makes appearances for snuggling with the kids and putting trains together with Lulo as his prize for being "respectful" and sharing with his brothers. It's nice to have J around - I want him to come home now. I am all done with being "home alone."
Thursday, September 16, 2010
The New Routine
Is it weird that I still get extremely nervous and aggravated when the children decide that they are going to be difficult at bed time and they cry for no reason? I mean, I have 3 kids under 4, I should be used to the noise, the whining, the tears. But I get annoyed. Really annoyed. I am so dedicated to routine. I hold it dear. I hate when it gets all weird and changes. J says I have control issues. I do. I have them. But dude, I don't want crying over nonsense. If you cry, something better be wrong. An organ better be somewhere it should not be. There better be poop. Something. Otherwise, I just get angry. I have to deep breathe.
Their bed time is my me time. Selfish, yes? When I put them in their room in their crib, don't get out...don't cry. Just go to bed, what's the issue. I am so over them sometimes.
Yesterday, the twins lost their mind. They were crying and crying when we put them down. There is this now, long drawn out routine when it was always two books and then in the crib, Goodnight.
Now, it's little by little the twins added weird little things to become this ridiculous amalgam of lameness. I don't get it. How did we get here? How do I get out of this? I am started to hate hugs.
The New Routine that I HATE:
Their bed time is my me time. Selfish, yes? When I put them in their room in their crib, don't get out...don't cry. Just go to bed, what's the issue. I am so over them sometimes.
Yesterday, the twins lost their mind. They were crying and crying when we put them down. There is this now, long drawn out routine when it was always two books and then in the crib, Goodnight.
Now, it's little by little the twins added weird little things to become this ridiculous amalgam of lameness. I don't get it. How did we get here? How do I get out of this? I am started to hate hugs.
The New Routine that I HATE:
- Bath
- Books (2)
- "Cholito Dance" (the first addition - a ridiculous dance so termed by their father whereby the children all march out of the room and dance around a huge bean bag we have)
- Fly (the second addition - their father grabs them all and flings them onto said pillow about 32 times - each day someone is injured mildly by a plastic toy or by a limb of someone else.)
- Cholito Dance back to the room
- Mr. Knickerbocker Song and Dance (Hey Mr. Knickerbocker boppity bop...)
- Ladybug - I honestly have no friggen idea how this started but I fully blame our last ridiculous nanny. There is a door stopper thing on the door and the kids call it a lady bug and we have to hoist them up to close the ladybug...every. damn. day.
- Light - Everyone has to turn the light on and off - and then if someone does it more than once - they both do.
- Crib.
Monday, September 13, 2010
The Family "Vacation" - Part III
After I was not able to survive another night sharing a suite with my own children*, we headed home after Sea World.
*I do realize that there are, of course, people all over the world who fit 32 people in a suite the size that we had. And in that square footage they manage a kitchen and no indoor plumbing and further manage to continue to reproduce so that in 10 months there are 42 people in a suite the size we had. But, yo, I am in America and I believe in charitable giving to improve the quality of life in said 42 person space so let's just move on shall we.*
So, anyhow, we decided after spending $54 at the WAP on a inedible lunch that J and I ate because we were hungry and that the children did not at all, we were NOT going to eat lunch at Sea World. I had enough snacks to feed the entire Sea World population that day so we figured - large breakfast, lots of snacks, early dinner. We expected everyone to sleep on the way home as it was a two hour drive and I woke everyone up about 15 minutes before reaching our dinner destination to aid in the transition of sleep to wake.
Let me just say, I am the mother that I would have balked at 3 years ago. I am that mother. I have never, in my whole life, seen such rotten, misbehaved children in my life. And to my utter shock and embarrassment, they were mine. Lulo really was the only one who ate but that really did not make him any kind of a superstar. The twins were difficult...even about the bread. They always eat the bread. They kept ripping of their shoes and then insisting that we put them back on. THEN. STOP. TAKING. THE. DAMN. THINGS. OFF.
Lulo kept getting up and down in the booth. Both twins insisted on getting out of their high chair which I have a strict "no way in hell" policy about that has something to do with The Breakfast Club and anarchy. J acquiesced and released Juju. And so, of course, Jojo wanted out. I pulled him out. Both high chairs toppled as I held Jojo. Jojo was pinned underneath one by his feet as I tugged at him. A party of 10 watched and waited as I tried to get Jojo out of his toppled high chair as my back spasmed and Juju crawled under my butt while he was fighting with Lulo over a polar bear. Then they all went under the booth and crawled around in gum and sticky floor and some E. Coli and Staphylococcus. They took turns going from one side to the other and then back and would take a break to fling a fork or knife or napkin or bear or penguin or shark and then proceed to cry about it.
Yep, I was that mother. It was really bad. Meanwhile, I was fuming, wondering how it was possible that I did not have a brain aneurysm yet. And our youngish waitress kept exchanging pleasantries and I really just was not able to be nice anymore. It was bad. So, so, bad. So bad that I didn't go to Pinkberry next door after dinner and I was jonesing for another hit of their Original flavor which my friend Mini has told me is laced with crack and I just couldn't go. All I could do was walk, head down, with Jojo in a fireman's carry in my arms, and the diaper bag on my back, and Juju in J's arms and Lulo dragging behind and buckle them in their car seats and get the hell home.
We got home and I drank rum and coke and tried to forget that those children were mine and I was that mother. It didn't work...I still remember and I write about it here to remember it forever.
*I do realize that there are, of course, people all over the world who fit 32 people in a suite the size that we had. And in that square footage they manage a kitchen and no indoor plumbing and further manage to continue to reproduce so that in 10 months there are 42 people in a suite the size we had. But, yo, I am in America and I believe in charitable giving to improve the quality of life in said 42 person space so let's just move on shall we.*
So, anyhow, we decided after spending $54 at the WAP on a inedible lunch that J and I ate because we were hungry and that the children did not at all, we were NOT going to eat lunch at Sea World. I had enough snacks to feed the entire Sea World population that day so we figured - large breakfast, lots of snacks, early dinner. We expected everyone to sleep on the way home as it was a two hour drive and I woke everyone up about 15 minutes before reaching our dinner destination to aid in the transition of sleep to wake.
Let me just say, I am the mother that I would have balked at 3 years ago. I am that mother. I have never, in my whole life, seen such rotten, misbehaved children in my life. And to my utter shock and embarrassment, they were mine. Lulo really was the only one who ate but that really did not make him any kind of a superstar. The twins were difficult...even about the bread. They always eat the bread. They kept ripping of their shoes and then insisting that we put them back on. THEN. STOP. TAKING. THE. DAMN. THINGS. OFF.
Lulo kept getting up and down in the booth. Both twins insisted on getting out of their high chair which I have a strict "no way in hell" policy about that has something to do with The Breakfast Club and anarchy. J acquiesced and released Juju. And so, of course, Jojo wanted out. I pulled him out. Both high chairs toppled as I held Jojo. Jojo was pinned underneath one by his feet as I tugged at him. A party of 10 watched and waited as I tried to get Jojo out of his toppled high chair as my back spasmed and Juju crawled under my butt while he was fighting with Lulo over a polar bear. Then they all went under the booth and crawled around in gum and sticky floor and some E. Coli and Staphylococcus. They took turns going from one side to the other and then back and would take a break to fling a fork or knife or napkin or bear or penguin or shark and then proceed to cry about it.
Yep, I was that mother. It was really bad. Meanwhile, I was fuming, wondering how it was possible that I did not have a brain aneurysm yet. And our youngish waitress kept exchanging pleasantries and I really just was not able to be nice anymore. It was bad. So, so, bad. So bad that I didn't go to Pinkberry next door after dinner and I was jonesing for another hit of their Original flavor which my friend Mini has told me is laced with crack and I just couldn't go. All I could do was walk, head down, with Jojo in a fireman's carry in my arms, and the diaper bag on my back, and Juju in J's arms and Lulo dragging behind and buckle them in their car seats and get the hell home.
We got home and I drank rum and coke and tried to forget that those children were mine and I was that mother. It didn't work...I still remember and I write about it here to remember it forever.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
A Family "Vacation" - Part II
We couldn't hack the weekend. Let's just get that out there.
The intention was to drive to San Diego on Friday and go to the Wild Animal Park. Go to the Hyatt at Mission Bay and spend the night. Our first night as a family in a hotel. Then, wake up the next day, go to Sea World, head to the hotel whenever we were tired. Stay another night at our hotel and come back to our oasis in Pomona.
At around 9:30 pm on Friday night, our first night with three kids trapped in a hotel suite, I looked at my J and said, "want me to see if I can get us out of paying for tomorrow night so that we can go home after Sea World tomorrow?"
First, because he knows better, J coached me for 20 minutes on the fact that whether we could get out of paying for an extra night was irrelevant and lectured me on how I should talk to the front desk...because you know that I would have said "Yo, this hotel sucks, and you suck, and I wanna go home." Anyhow, I was able to call and finnagle us out of the second night and they waived our parking fees. Wasn't that nice? Aren't I so capable? Go me. An average mother...an above average negotiator.
Now, lest you think that the experience was a nightmare. It wasn't. The boys were actually boys. I was just done. Well done. And really, I would not have survived the second night. We had a good time at the WAP. We got to the hotel. We went to the pool. Juju went down the pool slide so may times...he would say "Again" before he even hit the water. We splashed and played. We ate dinner at the hotel - they actually ate fairly easily. We got to the suite that I had outfitted with two cribs and a roll away bed. Oh, and that is where the fun began.
Don't get me wrong. I had crazily low expectations about how the night would go. No illusions of sleep even entered my head. The boys were all together in one room for the first time and it was actually kind of funny. Lulo would yell about how he was trying to sleep and they wouldn't let him. The twins were pushing my buttons telling me they were poopie...but of course, they weren't. But, then, Juju was. Then Juju was singing "Last Christmas" by George Michael. And then Jojo joined in just to sing the word "special". Special indeed. Then, Luk had to pee. Then, they all wanted to get up and it was anarchy. Then, I had a mental breakdown that I am certain Room 2106 heard and J explained to me that I really am not fit to be a mother.
Then, I ended up sleeping on the couch in their room until everyone crashed. First, Jojo, then, Lulo, then Juju. Juju kept messing around asking Lulo if he was awake or not and the first 12 times Lulo would say "MOOOOOOOM, Juju won't let me sleep". OMG, they can never share a room. An evening like this is not likely to repeat for at least a year or twelve. There is no way I am doing this hotel nonsense again.
I was so gross from the heat that day and gazelle petting and what not and I couldn't shower because I didn't to want to wake up the kids and reignite the shenanigans. I couldn't really talk to J above a whisper. I couldn't get internet access on my crackberry. Vacation my ass...my nerves were raw, I was tired, my wine bottle stashed in my duffel bag was just too far away, my feet were dirty and there weren't any of my disciples around to wash my feet, the poopie diaper was making the whole room smell and I couldn't locate a plastic bag without making noise.
It was then that I called the hotel from the balcony to negotiate our release. Lulo woke up at 4 am to pee and I brought him into "our" portion of the suite as partitioned by a sliding door. He had a total cow about the rubber lizard he was sleeping with and wanted me to obtain it from the room with the twins. So, there we were arguing about a rubber lizard at 4 am. There was no way, on God's green earth, that I was going to sneak into the twins room and wake them up to find his rubber lizard. No way.
Anyhow, bottom line. We came home after Sea World and for the first time, we got off the freeway at Fairplex, I saw that grand Ferris wheel turning in front of my house, I saw the Pomona hoodlums, walking down the hill...and I smiled. I heart you Pomona because you aren't the Hyatt and we all have our own rooms.
The intention was to drive to San Diego on Friday and go to the Wild Animal Park. Go to the Hyatt at Mission Bay and spend the night. Our first night as a family in a hotel. Then, wake up the next day, go to Sea World, head to the hotel whenever we were tired. Stay another night at our hotel and come back to our oasis in Pomona.
At around 9:30 pm on Friday night, our first night with three kids trapped in a hotel suite, I looked at my J and said, "want me to see if I can get us out of paying for tomorrow night so that we can go home after Sea World tomorrow?"
First, because he knows better, J coached me for 20 minutes on the fact that whether we could get out of paying for an extra night was irrelevant and lectured me on how I should talk to the front desk...because you know that I would have said "Yo, this hotel sucks, and you suck, and I wanna go home." Anyhow, I was able to call and finnagle us out of the second night and they waived our parking fees. Wasn't that nice? Aren't I so capable? Go me. An average mother...an above average negotiator.
Now, lest you think that the experience was a nightmare. It wasn't. The boys were actually boys. I was just done. Well done. And really, I would not have survived the second night. We had a good time at the WAP. We got to the hotel. We went to the pool. Juju went down the pool slide so may times...he would say "Again" before he even hit the water. We splashed and played. We ate dinner at the hotel - they actually ate fairly easily. We got to the suite that I had outfitted with two cribs and a roll away bed. Oh, and that is where the fun began.
Don't get me wrong. I had crazily low expectations about how the night would go. No illusions of sleep even entered my head. The boys were all together in one room for the first time and it was actually kind of funny. Lulo would yell about how he was trying to sleep and they wouldn't let him. The twins were pushing my buttons telling me they were poopie...but of course, they weren't. But, then, Juju was. Then Juju was singing "Last Christmas" by George Michael. And then Jojo joined in just to sing the word "special". Special indeed. Then, Luk had to pee. Then, they all wanted to get up and it was anarchy. Then, I had a mental breakdown that I am certain Room 2106 heard and J explained to me that I really am not fit to be a mother.
Then, I ended up sleeping on the couch in their room until everyone crashed. First, Jojo, then, Lulo, then Juju. Juju kept messing around asking Lulo if he was awake or not and the first 12 times Lulo would say "MOOOOOOOM, Juju won't let me sleep". OMG, they can never share a room. An evening like this is not likely to repeat for at least a year or twelve. There is no way I am doing this hotel nonsense again.
I was so gross from the heat that day and gazelle petting and what not and I couldn't shower because I didn't to want to wake up the kids and reignite the shenanigans. I couldn't really talk to J above a whisper. I couldn't get internet access on my crackberry. Vacation my ass...my nerves were raw, I was tired, my wine bottle stashed in my duffel bag was just too far away, my feet were dirty and there weren't any of my disciples around to wash my feet, the poopie diaper was making the whole room smell and I couldn't locate a plastic bag without making noise.
It was then that I called the hotel from the balcony to negotiate our release. Lulo woke up at 4 am to pee and I brought him into "our" portion of the suite as partitioned by a sliding door. He had a total cow about the rubber lizard he was sleeping with and wanted me to obtain it from the room with the twins. So, there we were arguing about a rubber lizard at 4 am. There was no way, on God's green earth, that I was going to sneak into the twins room and wake them up to find his rubber lizard. No way.
Anyhow, bottom line. We came home after Sea World and for the first time, we got off the freeway at Fairplex, I saw that grand Ferris wheel turning in front of my house, I saw the Pomona hoodlums, walking down the hill...and I smiled. I heart you Pomona because you aren't the Hyatt and we all have our own rooms.
A Family "Vacation" - Part I
We decided to go to San Diego for a long weekend (Friday to Sunday) with the kids. Stay at a hotel. Go to some Theme Parks. The next few posts will tell the tale. This is Part I. There is no particular logical order.
***
A friend told me that to avoid the constant nagging of a child asking for stuff at store to tell them, when you walk in, that you will not get them anything if they ask for it, but you will get them something at the end of the day if they don't ask and they are well behaved. I thought this sounded reasonable. So, I tried to drill this in Lulo's head.
And it worked. Sort of. Instead of asking me for various stuff and plastic toys constantly on Saturday, Lulo waited until he knew the day was dying down and asked, about 20 times in 30 minutes, whether I was forgetting something.
Sigh.
***
A friend told me that to avoid the constant nagging of a child asking for stuff at store to tell them, when you walk in, that you will not get them anything if they ask for it, but you will get them something at the end of the day if they don't ask and they are well behaved. I thought this sounded reasonable. So, I tried to drill this in Lulo's head.
And it worked. Sort of. Instead of asking me for various stuff and plastic toys constantly on Saturday, Lulo waited until he knew the day was dying down and asked, about 20 times in 30 minutes, whether I was forgetting something.
Sigh.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Salt, Pepper, and Piss
Today, we were eating a forgettable lunch when J leaned over, grabbed an unruly white hair growing out of my head, and ripped it out. I am graying. I am graying so much and so fast that J is noticing it at lunch. And honestly, J wouldn't notice if I was bald so this was quite monumental. The good news is he did not rip the gray hair out of my chin. The bad news is that I seem to be keeping pace with President Obama in how quickly I am graying this year.
I think that the amount of gray hair is directly proportional to the amount of interrupted sleep I have experience since Lulo decided to stop peeing and pooping in a Pull Up. Now, he comes out of his room any number of times a night and very early in the morning to pee exactly 2 drops of urine....or sit on the toilet singing or...sit on the toilet playing with his little friend (which is another post). Meanwhile, he announces the experience in his whiniest, loudest most horrible voice such that it echos in the stillness of the house at all hours:
I.
Need.
To.
Go.
Pee?
Pee?
And he says it, over and over again until someone comes and watches him pee. And he pisses with glee and goes back to bed. And I lay there, seething, feeling another hair go white...waiting for him to come out of his room not even 18 minutes later to say again:
I.
Need.
To.
Go.
Pee?
Pee?
Did I not read every damn sleep training book? Was he not on an predictable schedule? Wasn't it so lovely when I could put him to bed at night and wouldn't see him until I was good and ready in the morning- exercised, showered, caffeinated? Did he not play quietly in his room until I retrieved him not even 3 months ago? Oh sigh.
I need to figure out this gray hair situation because if this will happen in triplicate once the twins are potty trained, I won't handle it well.
I think that the amount of gray hair is directly proportional to the amount of interrupted sleep I have experience since Lulo decided to stop peeing and pooping in a Pull Up. Now, he comes out of his room any number of times a night and very early in the morning to pee exactly 2 drops of urine....or sit on the toilet singing or...sit on the toilet playing with his little friend (which is another post). Meanwhile, he announces the experience in his whiniest, loudest most horrible voice such that it echos in the stillness of the house at all hours:
I.
Need.
To.
Go.
Pee?
Pee?
And he says it, over and over again until someone comes and watches him pee. And he pisses with glee and goes back to bed. And I lay there, seething, feeling another hair go white...waiting for him to come out of his room not even 18 minutes later to say again:
I.
Need.
To.
Go.
Pee?
Pee?
Did I not read every damn sleep training book? Was he not on an predictable schedule? Wasn't it so lovely when I could put him to bed at night and wouldn't see him until I was good and ready in the morning- exercised, showered, caffeinated? Did he not play quietly in his room until I retrieved him not even 3 months ago? Oh sigh.
I need to figure out this gray hair situation because if this will happen in triplicate once the twins are potty trained, I won't handle it well.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Really? I have twins?
You would think that the day I had an ultrasound and they told me "did you know you were having twins?" was the day that I would have come to the realization that I actually would have twins. However, I still wake up a bit surprised that I have twins sometimes. Like, really, are those people mine. Are all three of these mine? How did this happen? I am not really a "I just pooped my baby into a toilet" type person. I know how babies are made and knew that they were coming....but really, this twin thing is still sort of amazing to me.
Anyhow, the only reason I am thinking about this is because it hit me recently, again, with great force, that I indeed have to support three children. I was going to enroll the twins in the school where Lulo goes a few months ago and they just started today. And it sort of multiplied in my brain...whatever I put Lulo in, whatever I offer him, whatever he gets to do...two more people will have to do or will want to do or should be offered to do...in a year or so. Dude, that's a lot of cash and time and energy. Part of me wants them to like the same stuff so I can kind of do it all together. Part of me hopes to hell that they are into sports that require no equipment...like maybe, um, CROSS COUNTRY RUNNING! Woohoo. It took me a minute to conjure up a sport with no equipment. Are shoes equipment? Tennis would work, soccer too. Hockey, football, private schools, summer camps. Holy shit.
I wrote the check for triple the tuition on Tuesday. 10% multiple child discount doesn't really do nothing for me right now. Nada.
Anyhow, the only reason I am thinking about this is because it hit me recently, again, with great force, that I indeed have to support three children. I was going to enroll the twins in the school where Lulo goes a few months ago and they just started today. And it sort of multiplied in my brain...whatever I put Lulo in, whatever I offer him, whatever he gets to do...two more people will have to do or will want to do or should be offered to do...in a year or so. Dude, that's a lot of cash and time and energy. Part of me wants them to like the same stuff so I can kind of do it all together. Part of me hopes to hell that they are into sports that require no equipment...like maybe, um, CROSS COUNTRY RUNNING! Woohoo. It took me a minute to conjure up a sport with no equipment. Are shoes equipment? Tennis would work, soccer too. Hockey, football, private schools, summer camps. Holy shit.
I wrote the check for triple the tuition on Tuesday. 10% multiple child discount doesn't really do nothing for me right now. Nada.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
I Need Space
Lulo's been telling me, everyday for a week now, that he doesn't want to go to school.
Why?
"Because it's not funny."
Well, it's not supposed to be funny. He's been in rare form, every day. I honestly don't know what his deal is. He gets to school and doesn't want to eat...he always used to be happy and bounce to the table (except on oatmeal days.)
He says he wants "space." Ah, conscious discipline how you encourage the use of words like "space" and "I am not ready." Pppfffft....I'll show him space, I'll show him not ready.
"Mama, mama, can you wipe my butt?" says Lulo at 5:30 am for the last couple weeks.
"Nope, sorry, I am not ready. I need space," says Mama.
OK. I am reverting to a 3 year old.
So, I have been cranky and pensive about Lulo's recently general displeasure with all things life related. I have been trying to look for the silver lining besides the loving husband, the new patio furniture, and the healthy children and parents. And, I found it today in an unlikely place.
I decided to do some observation. I went to Lulo's school today for their weekly walk, which I never do, and exploration of the LA County Fairgrounds (btw fair grounds are so not fair sans fair). Here is what I found out:
1. Lulo was extremely crazily happy to have me there. He told me he loved me 30 times. He proudly held my hand showing me off to his friends. He was happy as a clam for exactly 60 minutes during the walk.
2. Lulo is a really good kid - he listens to directions, he doesn't talk back, he is quiet, pensive, participatory, says intelligent things...he doesn't flail, wander off, ignore the teacher, or throw 30 tantrums. He's a good kid.
3. Is it really bad that I was thankful 40 times that Lulo was my kid and not this other kid who lost his mind about the stupidest shit about 12 times in 60 minutes? He touched me. Waaaa. The petal on my flower fell off. Waaa. I don't want to walk. Waaaa. I need to pee. Waaa. I don't like the bathroom. Waaa. And so on, and so on. I wanted to spank him or tell him to stop whining already but...he wasn't my kid and I was pleased.
4. Is it really bad that I was thankful 32 times that I have no girls. The skipping and the whispering and the giggling, and the holding hands all over the place and hugging...just that 60 minutes with them was all that I need for the rest of my life. Girls are totally annoying.
Anyhow, that's what I learned. So, even though Lulo has been sort of a pain as of late...other kids are worse and at least he is not a girl.
After the walk, I went to Costco during the hour before I had to pick him up. The chicken I bought experienced some leakage and so salmonella is everywhere. I was late because apparently you can't buy food at the Obesity Mart outside Costco with a credit card so I had to go in and get cash. I hate Salmonella. Chicken juice is the most vile thing ever.
I got to school, finally, scrubbed my hands in the school bathroom like I was going into surgery and got Lulo who was curled up in a corner because he needed "space." And he said, "I am not happy right now" about 12 times in the 2.5 minute drive up the hill.
Well, you know what little man, I need space from chicken juice and Costco and the nanny leaving and everything because things are just not funny right now and I am not happy.
Strike that. I am not happy about chicken juice and cash only and the soon to be ex-nanny.... but the fact that Lukas, my little boy, loves me and told me that over and over even though he's not happy, ready, and nothing is funny...that's sort of nice. With that said, I could use a little space.
Why?
"Because it's not funny."
Well, it's not supposed to be funny. He's been in rare form, every day. I honestly don't know what his deal is. He gets to school and doesn't want to eat...he always used to be happy and bounce to the table (except on oatmeal days.)
He says he wants "space." Ah, conscious discipline how you encourage the use of words like "space" and "I am not ready." Pppfffft....I'll show him space, I'll show him not ready.
"Mama, mama, can you wipe my butt?" says Lulo at 5:30 am for the last couple weeks.
"Nope, sorry, I am not ready. I need space," says Mama.
OK. I am reverting to a 3 year old.
So, I have been cranky and pensive about Lulo's recently general displeasure with all things life related. I have been trying to look for the silver lining besides the loving husband, the new patio furniture, and the healthy children and parents. And, I found it today in an unlikely place.
I decided to do some observation. I went to Lulo's school today for their weekly walk, which I never do, and exploration of the LA County Fairgrounds (btw fair grounds are so not fair sans fair). Here is what I found out:
1. Lulo was extremely crazily happy to have me there. He told me he loved me 30 times. He proudly held my hand showing me off to his friends. He was happy as a clam for exactly 60 minutes during the walk.
2. Lulo is a really good kid - he listens to directions, he doesn't talk back, he is quiet, pensive, participatory, says intelligent things...he doesn't flail, wander off, ignore the teacher, or throw 30 tantrums. He's a good kid.
3. Is it really bad that I was thankful 40 times that Lulo was my kid and not this other kid who lost his mind about the stupidest shit about 12 times in 60 minutes? He touched me. Waaaa. The petal on my flower fell off. Waaa. I don't want to walk. Waaaa. I need to pee. Waaa. I don't like the bathroom. Waaa. And so on, and so on. I wanted to spank him or tell him to stop whining already but...he wasn't my kid and I was pleased.
4. Is it really bad that I was thankful 32 times that I have no girls. The skipping and the whispering and the giggling, and the holding hands all over the place and hugging...just that 60 minutes with them was all that I need for the rest of my life. Girls are totally annoying.
Anyhow, that's what I learned. So, even though Lulo has been sort of a pain as of late...other kids are worse and at least he is not a girl.
After the walk, I went to Costco during the hour before I had to pick him up. The chicken I bought experienced some leakage and so salmonella is everywhere. I was late because apparently you can't buy food at the Obesity Mart outside Costco with a credit card so I had to go in and get cash. I hate Salmonella. Chicken juice is the most vile thing ever.
I got to school, finally, scrubbed my hands in the school bathroom like I was going into surgery and got Lulo who was curled up in a corner because he needed "space." And he said, "I am not happy right now" about 12 times in the 2.5 minute drive up the hill.
Well, you know what little man, I need space from chicken juice and Costco and the nanny leaving and everything because things are just not funny right now and I am not happy.
Strike that. I am not happy about chicken juice and cash only and the soon to be ex-nanny.... but the fact that Lukas, my little boy, loves me and told me that over and over even though he's not happy, ready, and nothing is funny...that's sort of nice. With that said, I could use a little space.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
The Ex-Nanny Chronicles Part V: Jaded, Soooo Jaded
On Monday, the day after I got back from a week long trip to D.C. , my current nanny gave me notice, at 7:45 a.m. Her timing was soooo impeccable. Anyhow, she is a nice lady, not Maria von Trapp, but she lasted about 6 months. She wants to work with the geriatric population rather than my adorable kids. At least that's what she's told me. I am sort of obsessing that I am the problem with the way nannies go through here. Her predecessors, the ones who lasted more than 30 seconds, all stayed a year or more. It can't be that bad working with my family - even if I can be a control freak and a little temperamental.
Anyhow, I can't really ponder her leaving for very long because I need to locate her replacement. She wasn't perfect but she was nice and loving with my kids. And was very diligent and careful and what else can you ask for. /Shrug. I guess I need to just be OK with the fact that nannies come and go and unless I become a SAHM, nanny interviews, nanny hiring, nanny firing, and nanny departures will be a part of my life for a few years. (Oh, no chance I'll be a SAHM because even though I love those kids, I sooooo TGIM sometimes.)
Anyhow, I had to revisit Jade, my favorite ex-nanny, so that I could start feeling better about myself and my rotating front door when it comes to nannies...
Anyhow, I can't really ponder her leaving for very long because I need to locate her replacement. She wasn't perfect but she was nice and loving with my kids. And was very diligent and careful and what else can you ask for. /Shrug. I guess I need to just be OK with the fact that nannies come and go and unless I become a SAHM, nanny interviews, nanny hiring, nanny firing, and nanny departures will be a part of my life for a few years. (Oh, no chance I'll be a SAHM because even though I love those kids, I sooooo TGIM sometimes.)
Anyhow, I had to revisit Jade, my favorite ex-nanny, so that I could start feeling better about myself and my rotating front door when it comes to nannies...
- One night while she was on my computer in my kitchen, after the kids had gone nightnight, she was horrified that she was bouncing several checks. Apparently, the "you need to have money in your account" thing didn't resonate with her. Anywho, she asked me to pay her for the one day she had worked (I paid every Friday and it was Monday), so that she could replenish her balance so that she could buy...the CUTEST Halloween costume...so she could look just like Kate Perry.
- Another night, while she was on my computer in my kitchen, after the kids had gone nightnight, she got a phone call. It was about 10 p.m. She put the call on speaker, conferenced in another person and spoke at full volume. I had to come downstairs and ask her to keep it down because I was trying to sleep. And, rather than go down to her room to talk, she took it off of speakerphone and loudly finished her conversation.
- The kids were taking a nap one day and I was downstairs working, you know, real actual billable work. Rather than be productive and accomplish her to-do list, she came to my office. Then, she waited impatiently while I got off the phone (with a client), and then asked if she could go to the gas station and get a Red Bull while the kids napped. Um, yeah sure.
- She scratched herself all the time. Her arms, her legs, her chest. Soooo strange. She didn't seem all that concerned about the fact that she was scratching herself...all. the. time. Finally, one day, she asked to go to a doctor's appointment which I heartily agreed to and she said she'd be back by noon. She showed up at like 2 claiming the doctor took forevah to see her. After I fired her, I noticed that she had left her Facebook logged in on my computer and really, that day, she was at the DMV.
- She texted so much while she should have been focusing on my mobile but unsteady toddlers that she had an indentation on her palm from holding her iPhone. How did she even AFFORD an iPhone?
Yep, it's not me who is flawed. I am not Murphy Brown...right? This kind of nonsense would make ANYONE crazy, right? No way to make lemonade out of this lemon. No way.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
The Deal Breaker
When J and I first started dating, after we started settling into the fact that things seemed to be going well....J called me from work and said he wanted to talk to me about something that weekend but wouldn't say what. I begged and pleaded and he would not say. I would not say I am a patient person. So, he showed up that weekend and before he could even say "Hello", I insisted he telling what was on his mind.
He said, that there were two deal breakers that would end our relationship. The first was that we could not circumcise any boys that we would have. (My boys are currently uncut.) That was easy.
The second deal breaker was my potty mouth. He indicated that he hated that I swore so much. It was not classy, professional, and it was not what he wanted to hear the rest of his life. Nor was it what he wanted his children to hear. He essentially thought it was trashy.
***
Lulo has penguins. Three 3-inch plastic penguins. I spend at least 20 minutes a day wondering where they are or looking for them or checking up on them so I don't have to look for them. 20 minutes a day. 140 minutes a week. That's two hours. I don't think I am exaggerating. When one of these penguins are lost (and one was for exactly two months and we had to obtain a replacement), it creates a meltdown of Biblical proportions. See Ghostbusters.
I have impaled my finger looking for the penguins. I have almost gotten into a car accident. I have been on my hands and knees under couches, cribs, beds, futons, movie theater seats, bathrooms. I have fished the penguins out of toilets and sinks. They have scratched me, been thrown at me. I have sat on them, stepped on them. Both hurt like hell.
These penguins have often gotten more of my time than Juju and Jojo. They are driving me insane. If I am ever institutionalized, it will be over these penguins and their whereabouts. They piss me off. They anger me. They madden me. They make me anxious because I don't know when we will lose them next.
They are pretty much irreplaceable. He calls them Grandma Penguin and Mama Penguin. The other penguin is sort of without name. I don't know why. I have to know which one is which at all times. If I don't he yells at me. Last week my mother brilliantly put a "G" in pink highlighter on the penguins belly so all of us would always know. Tattooing the penguin was not problematic.
Anyhow, they have caused me to swear here and again. Yes, swearing was a deal breaker but a zebra can't change it stripes.
***
And so now Lulo says, "where are my effing penguins?"
He actually says EFFING because I try not to say FUCK in front of him when I am looking for them! Fuck, how did I end up here?
He said, that there were two deal breakers that would end our relationship. The first was that we could not circumcise any boys that we would have. (My boys are currently uncut.) That was easy.
The second deal breaker was my potty mouth. He indicated that he hated that I swore so much. It was not classy, professional, and it was not what he wanted to hear the rest of his life. Nor was it what he wanted his children to hear. He essentially thought it was trashy.
***
Lulo has penguins. Three 3-inch plastic penguins. I spend at least 20 minutes a day wondering where they are or looking for them or checking up on them so I don't have to look for them. 20 minutes a day. 140 minutes a week. That's two hours. I don't think I am exaggerating. When one of these penguins are lost (and one was for exactly two months and we had to obtain a replacement), it creates a meltdown of Biblical proportions. See Ghostbusters.
I have impaled my finger looking for the penguins. I have almost gotten into a car accident. I have been on my hands and knees under couches, cribs, beds, futons, movie theater seats, bathrooms. I have fished the penguins out of toilets and sinks. They have scratched me, been thrown at me. I have sat on them, stepped on them. Both hurt like hell.
These penguins have often gotten more of my time than Juju and Jojo. They are driving me insane. If I am ever institutionalized, it will be over these penguins and their whereabouts. They piss me off. They anger me. They madden me. They make me anxious because I don't know when we will lose them next.
They are pretty much irreplaceable. He calls them Grandma Penguin and Mama Penguin. The other penguin is sort of without name. I don't know why. I have to know which one is which at all times. If I don't he yells at me. Last week my mother brilliantly put a "G" in pink highlighter on the penguins belly so all of us would always know. Tattooing the penguin was not problematic.
Anyhow, they have caused me to swear here and again. Yes, swearing was a deal breaker but a zebra can't change it stripes.
***
And so now Lulo says, "where are my effing penguins?"
He actually says EFFING because I try not to say FUCK in front of him when I am looking for them! Fuck, how did I end up here?
Sunday, January 3, 2010
A Decade in Review
I saw this on another blog and thought it would be an interesting post so here goes...
2000: I was in my second semester of my first year of law school at LLS. I am in a study group with all guys. Arthur is a particularly annoying guy who does not know how to make his own sandwich and asks me to handle it for him during a study group session. I was glad when he transferred out at the end of the year. Brian tells me I will be a terrible wife and mother because I have no domestic skills and I can't cook. I tell him I don't want kids anyway. I lived next to the Beverly Center with a very very happy girl named Jill who I don't speak to anymore because she lost the cable boxes when we moved out and stiffed me with the bill. Good times. I went to Greece that summer to "study" abroad for 10 weeks...I got REALLY homesick. Got back and started my second year of law school.
2001: Still in law school. Really, that occupied most of my time and energy. I studied a lot. I got a job at a firm that summer and that firm is now no longer in existence. It taught me a lot about people and about how law firms work. I actually stayed at that firm until I graduated at which time they let me go when the two main partners went to work for a much larger firm. Nice timing. I know. In the Fall of 2001, I started my third and final year of law school and tried out for the Giles Sutherland Rich Moot Court team and made the team.
2002: I started my last semester of law school and started going to practice rounds for the Moot Court competition. We went to various Socal firms where we got drilled by attorneys at those firms to prepare us. At one of those firms, I met J. He talked to me by an elevator, he wasn't wearing a ring, and I liked him. But I was busy dating a guy my parents hated. When the competition ended, I sent him a thank you note, he asked me out to dinner...then he asked me to go dancing. I fell in love with J and called my best friend that night to tell her I'd marry him. The next day I dumped the guy my parents hated. In July 2002, I took the California State Bar. In August 2002, I went to Peru with J. In November 2002, I found out I passed the Bar which was AMAZING. So, I sent out 12000 resumes because I was unemployed. In December 2002, I sent an email to an attorney (Marc) who interviewed me at one point wishing him a Happy Birthday...we had the same birthday. He hired me and I went to work in January.
2003: I worked for a big downtown law firm. I wore suits every day (except Friday when I wore jeans). I met my good friend Liz and we had Starbucks and went to this breakfast burrito place all the time. It was awesome. I worked and worked and loved it. It was fun and good times. J proposed on March 20th, less than a year after our first date. We got married on August 30th. We honeymooned on the Cayman Islands. We moved into our condo in Los Al and we fought all the time except when we did not fight. J was building his parents' house so he went there every Saturday and most Sundays which was SUCH a HUGE point of contention. {{It is funny now because I am so happy when J leaves these days. Ha.}}
2004: Still working for the downtown law firm and then on St. Patrick's Day the shit hit the fan and Marc, the partner I worked for, leaves the firm. Everyone wanted me to stay but I felt my future was with Marc and I am a loyal person. So, I left the big downtown law firm. Marc is charismatic, interesting, smart. We raid the offices of a client of his that owes him some coin and we start working on the case that forced him to leave the firm. The office has orange Mr. Furley chairs and no light in the bathroom. Much, much drama ensues. Though it felt like crap, I resign and take an in house position at a nutritional supplement company as IP counsel starting January 2005.
2005: Here I am, working in house. There is no variability in the hours but the people are nice. I pass the patent bar. I work. I go to a meeting up in Gig Harbor, WA. The guys up there are not warm and fuzzy. They want an in house IP counsel up in Gig Harbor. I wouldn't move to Gig Harbor if you deeded me Gig Harbor. I get laid off and negotiate a nice severance package and then I am home, alone, trying to figure out what to do next. J tells me to start my own practice. He tells me that every day. I have no clients. Not a one. So, I print cards on my printer. Create a website and start my own practice. I network, all the time. I despise networking but I start getting clients. In July, we go to Greece and J meets my extended family. J sees me happy and getting clients and growing a practice. He decides to quit his job and join me. We start trying to have a baby.
2006: In January 2006, I find out that I am pregnant and am due October 1st. We still live in our little condo in Los Al but we are building a house in Pomona that we were going to sell. Neither of us commute anywhere anymore so it does not matter where we live. J convinces me that we should move to Pomona which should be ready before the baby is born. I concede with the strong proviso that we will not stay in Pomona any longer than we have to. {We are still in Pomona...sigh.} In September, we (VERY PREGNANT me and J) move to Pomona but there is no gas or electricity. I go to my parents house while Julio roughs it in Pomona. A pregnant woman in her ninth month has no business being in a 110 degree house that has no air conditioning. My OB tells me to have the baby any day but October 2nd because that is Yom Kippur and she is not working. I go into labor at 5 am on October 2nd and by 5:40 pm, I had my Lulo. My angel baby. Now, I am a new Mom. I live at my parents' house until the week before Thanksgiving and move home, to Pomona, with my baby and my J.
2007: I love Lulo. We move into the house that now has temporary electricity and gas. I have a series of college girls who are nannies. I work. I adjust. I become a fan of letting Lulo cry it out and schedules and nap time and meal time. It works for us. Lulo is a good baby. Happy. I think things are actually going kind of nice. I get pregnant again in August and the ultrasound shows one baby. In September, I start puking and literally cannot stop. I puke and puke and puke and puke and puke. I have never been sick so much in my entire life. I can keep nothing down. I drag myself to an appointment, alone, where another OB tells me that I am in fact carrying twins and that one of them appears to not be well, probably Turner's Syndrome. I need an CVS STAT. I admit myself to hospital. Get an IV for the afternoon since I am dehydrated and dying, literally. The next day I get my CVS. The next day I end up in the hospital again for a week because I still can keep nothing down. I am a mess - thyroid is off, heart is off because of thyroid, more puking. Kids not doing well. Lots of tears, lots of dilemmas. In November I find out, not Turner's actually, Twin Twin Transfusion Syndrome. Ultrasounds 2-3x a week. Tons of appointments, waiting, lots of unknown.
2008: The twins were viable (24 weeks gestation) on January 10, 2008 and that's when they admitted me to the hospital. J stayed home. Lulo moved in with my parents. My heart ached. I did not leave the hospital until after they were born on March 25th. Then, my miracles were born, Juju and Jojo. Amazing. It was quite a ride. Scary, frustrating. 2008 is a blur of tears and frustration and survival. I juggle and work and survive.
2009: All three boys and J are great. I look at myself and I am a heiff. I join Extreme Bootcamp and chronicle that on my blog, this blog which I started last year. I still do EB. I lost some weight, I gained some weight, I feel sooo much healthier. I work. I got nominated to be president elect of my local NAWBO chapter. I reconnect with people on Facebook. I fit into my clothes again. J and I start to have a more normal existence and resume a pattern. Lulo starts preschool and he grows and changes and talks all the time and is this little fabulous person who is into elephants and penguins and dinosaurs and challenging my patience and sanity. And, I am amazed and stunned by him. Juju and Jojo astound me. They are doing well. So well that I cannot believe how close I came to losing them and I just love to watch them and tickle them. I think they are all too cute for words, though, I clearly do not lack for words. We go to the Dominican Republic in August. We work. Our firm is doing well. We are growing. I can't and won't complain.
It's been quite a decade. You don't realize it until you write it down. I am blessed. I wonder what the next 10 will bring.
2000: I was in my second semester of my first year of law school at LLS. I am in a study group with all guys. Arthur is a particularly annoying guy who does not know how to make his own sandwich and asks me to handle it for him during a study group session. I was glad when he transferred out at the end of the year. Brian tells me I will be a terrible wife and mother because I have no domestic skills and I can't cook. I tell him I don't want kids anyway. I lived next to the Beverly Center with a very very happy girl named Jill who I don't speak to anymore because she lost the cable boxes when we moved out and stiffed me with the bill. Good times. I went to Greece that summer to "study" abroad for 10 weeks...I got REALLY homesick. Got back and started my second year of law school.
2001: Still in law school. Really, that occupied most of my time and energy. I studied a lot. I got a job at a firm that summer and that firm is now no longer in existence. It taught me a lot about people and about how law firms work. I actually stayed at that firm until I graduated at which time they let me go when the two main partners went to work for a much larger firm. Nice timing. I know. In the Fall of 2001, I started my third and final year of law school and tried out for the Giles Sutherland Rich Moot Court team and made the team.
2002: I started my last semester of law school and started going to practice rounds for the Moot Court competition. We went to various Socal firms where we got drilled by attorneys at those firms to prepare us. At one of those firms, I met J. He talked to me by an elevator, he wasn't wearing a ring, and I liked him. But I was busy dating a guy my parents hated. When the competition ended, I sent him a thank you note, he asked me out to dinner...then he asked me to go dancing. I fell in love with J and called my best friend that night to tell her I'd marry him. The next day I dumped the guy my parents hated. In July 2002, I took the California State Bar. In August 2002, I went to Peru with J. In November 2002, I found out I passed the Bar which was AMAZING. So, I sent out 12000 resumes because I was unemployed. In December 2002, I sent an email to an attorney (Marc) who interviewed me at one point wishing him a Happy Birthday...we had the same birthday. He hired me and I went to work in January.
2003: I worked for a big downtown law firm. I wore suits every day (except Friday when I wore jeans). I met my good friend Liz and we had Starbucks and went to this breakfast burrito place all the time. It was awesome. I worked and worked and loved it. It was fun and good times. J proposed on March 20th, less than a year after our first date. We got married on August 30th. We honeymooned on the Cayman Islands. We moved into our condo in Los Al and we fought all the time except when we did not fight. J was building his parents' house so he went there every Saturday and most Sundays which was SUCH a HUGE point of contention. {{It is funny now because I am so happy when J leaves these days. Ha.}}
2004: Still working for the downtown law firm and then on St. Patrick's Day the shit hit the fan and Marc, the partner I worked for, leaves the firm. Everyone wanted me to stay but I felt my future was with Marc and I am a loyal person. So, I left the big downtown law firm. Marc is charismatic, interesting, smart. We raid the offices of a client of his that owes him some coin and we start working on the case that forced him to leave the firm. The office has orange Mr. Furley chairs and no light in the bathroom. Much, much drama ensues. Though it felt like crap, I resign and take an in house position at a nutritional supplement company as IP counsel starting January 2005.
2005: Here I am, working in house. There is no variability in the hours but the people are nice. I pass the patent bar. I work. I go to a meeting up in Gig Harbor, WA. The guys up there are not warm and fuzzy. They want an in house IP counsel up in Gig Harbor. I wouldn't move to Gig Harbor if you deeded me Gig Harbor. I get laid off and negotiate a nice severance package and then I am home, alone, trying to figure out what to do next. J tells me to start my own practice. He tells me that every day. I have no clients. Not a one. So, I print cards on my printer. Create a website and start my own practice. I network, all the time. I despise networking but I start getting clients. In July, we go to Greece and J meets my extended family. J sees me happy and getting clients and growing a practice. He decides to quit his job and join me. We start trying to have a baby.
2006: In January 2006, I find out that I am pregnant and am due October 1st. We still live in our little condo in Los Al but we are building a house in Pomona that we were going to sell. Neither of us commute anywhere anymore so it does not matter where we live. J convinces me that we should move to Pomona which should be ready before the baby is born. I concede with the strong proviso that we will not stay in Pomona any longer than we have to. {We are still in Pomona...sigh.} In September, we (VERY PREGNANT me and J) move to Pomona but there is no gas or electricity. I go to my parents house while Julio roughs it in Pomona. A pregnant woman in her ninth month has no business being in a 110 degree house that has no air conditioning. My OB tells me to have the baby any day but October 2nd because that is Yom Kippur and she is not working. I go into labor at 5 am on October 2nd and by 5:40 pm, I had my Lulo. My angel baby. Now, I am a new Mom. I live at my parents' house until the week before Thanksgiving and move home, to Pomona, with my baby and my J.
2007: I love Lulo. We move into the house that now has temporary electricity and gas. I have a series of college girls who are nannies. I work. I adjust. I become a fan of letting Lulo cry it out and schedules and nap time and meal time. It works for us. Lulo is a good baby. Happy. I think things are actually going kind of nice. I get pregnant again in August and the ultrasound shows one baby. In September, I start puking and literally cannot stop. I puke and puke and puke and puke and puke. I have never been sick so much in my entire life. I can keep nothing down. I drag myself to an appointment, alone, where another OB tells me that I am in fact carrying twins and that one of them appears to not be well, probably Turner's Syndrome. I need an CVS STAT. I admit myself to hospital. Get an IV for the afternoon since I am dehydrated and dying, literally. The next day I get my CVS. The next day I end up in the hospital again for a week because I still can keep nothing down. I am a mess - thyroid is off, heart is off because of thyroid, more puking. Kids not doing well. Lots of tears, lots of dilemmas. In November I find out, not Turner's actually, Twin Twin Transfusion Syndrome. Ultrasounds 2-3x a week. Tons of appointments, waiting, lots of unknown.
2008: The twins were viable (24 weeks gestation) on January 10, 2008 and that's when they admitted me to the hospital. J stayed home. Lulo moved in with my parents. My heart ached. I did not leave the hospital until after they were born on March 25th. Then, my miracles were born, Juju and Jojo. Amazing. It was quite a ride. Scary, frustrating. 2008 is a blur of tears and frustration and survival. I juggle and work and survive.
2009: All three boys and J are great. I look at myself and I am a heiff. I join Extreme Bootcamp and chronicle that on my blog, this blog which I started last year. I still do EB. I lost some weight, I gained some weight, I feel sooo much healthier. I work. I got nominated to be president elect of my local NAWBO chapter. I reconnect with people on Facebook. I fit into my clothes again. J and I start to have a more normal existence and resume a pattern. Lulo starts preschool and he grows and changes and talks all the time and is this little fabulous person who is into elephants and penguins and dinosaurs and challenging my patience and sanity. And, I am amazed and stunned by him. Juju and Jojo astound me. They are doing well. So well that I cannot believe how close I came to losing them and I just love to watch them and tickle them. I think they are all too cute for words, though, I clearly do not lack for words. We go to the Dominican Republic in August. We work. Our firm is doing well. We are growing. I can't and won't complain.
It's been quite a decade. You don't realize it until you write it down. I am blessed. I wonder what the next 10 will bring.
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