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.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
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?
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