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.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
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.
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