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.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
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.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Tromba
So, Lulo is sort of into Christmas this year and along with the story of Mary, Jofef and Baby Jesus he knows that he is getting some presents.
Now, I asked him what he wants and he said: "An Elephant."
What else do you want? An Elephant Tromba. (Tromba is the Portuguese word for "trunk". Two Portuguese nannies and a absentee mother...do the math.)
Anyhow, he wants this because Murray on Sesame Street spent a whole episode wearing an elephant tromba the other day. And Murray's sort of appeared to be made of a rubber band and a vacuum tube. Um, this is all I can find?
If 3 people tell me this is not phallic or frightening, then I will buy it. Speak now before the shipping charges kill me.
Now, I asked him what he wants and he said: "An Elephant."
What else do you want? An Elephant Tromba. (Tromba is the Portuguese word for "trunk". Two Portuguese nannies and a absentee mother...do the math.)
Anyhow, he wants this because Murray on Sesame Street spent a whole episode wearing an elephant tromba the other day. And Murray's sort of appeared to be made of a rubber band and a vacuum tube. Um, this is all I can find?
If 3 people tell me this is not phallic or frightening, then I will buy it. Speak now before the shipping charges kill me.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Need Further Information
The last time I went to Disneyland was with J before we got married over 6 years ago. My cousin is somehow affiliated with Disney and she gave us tickets as a gift for some pre-wedding festivity, perhaps the bridal shower. Anyhow, we went and it was fine. We were pretty much in agreement that we would never go back unless our future children had somehow been told that there was a place called Disneyland in existence and that they had to go for some homework assignment/field trip.
The funny thing is that I think that this commonality and one other thing that makes me a little strange cemented my relationship with J. Most people have deal breakers and I think my 2 deal breakers would have been (1) a spouse who wanted a season pass to Disneyland and (2) a spouse who wanted to have a dog or animal of any kind living in my house or on my property that I would be required to feed or care for. J basically agrees with this and so when times are rough (and they aren't often), I always think back to these two particular things and love J even more because (1) he'll never ask me if we can get a dog and (2) he'll never take me to Disneyland. I heart him.
Anyhow, I digress, as of late with this Facebook phenomenon whereby you can see everyone's status updates, I have noted that I have a lot of friends who totally LOVE Disneyland. They go at every opportunity. It completely baffles me. Can a Disney lover tell me why they love it? Let me into your world. I want to understand. Long lines abound. It is SO expensive. The food isn't notable. Am I doing something wrong? Where is the happy at the happiest place on earth?
A season pass at Disneyland is $429/person. To go for one day to Disneyland, for my family (excluding the twins because they are still 20 months) it would be $206. $206. I can get an 80 minute massage, a cocktail, and dinner for $206. Ok, that's selfish. The other day I managed to get my kids a HUGE BAG of clothes consisting of what is essentially their entire winter wardrobe for less than $200.
Moreover, I really can't go anywhere with these little people for more than a 3-4 hours or so because then they spontaneously combust with exhaustion and I proceed to combust. So, I would pay $206 for my entire family to disintegrate into tears in less than 4 hours.
Alright, so, I won't get to see the pure joy in the eyes of my children. I would pay $206 for the pure joy in the eyes of my children but is that why you Disney-philes flock there? Because honestly, I can get pure joy at the zoo and the kids almost burst with joy at the aquarium a few weeks ago and it was perfectly doable in a 4 hour block of time without breaking the budget. And then, there are those people who always loved Disneyland - as kids, as adults, pre-kids, post-kids, etc. And they will always completely baffle me. I almost can't imagine any place I would want to be less (excluding jail, underground tunnels trying to cross the border, and traffic school).
I need an explanation. Digame.
The funny thing is that I think that this commonality and one other thing that makes me a little strange cemented my relationship with J. Most people have deal breakers and I think my 2 deal breakers would have been (1) a spouse who wanted a season pass to Disneyland and (2) a spouse who wanted to have a dog or animal of any kind living in my house or on my property that I would be required to feed or care for. J basically agrees with this and so when times are rough (and they aren't often), I always think back to these two particular things and love J even more because (1) he'll never ask me if we can get a dog and (2) he'll never take me to Disneyland. I heart him.
Anyhow, I digress, as of late with this Facebook phenomenon whereby you can see everyone's status updates, I have noted that I have a lot of friends who totally LOVE Disneyland. They go at every opportunity. It completely baffles me. Can a Disney lover tell me why they love it? Let me into your world. I want to understand. Long lines abound. It is SO expensive. The food isn't notable. Am I doing something wrong? Where is the happy at the happiest place on earth?
A season pass at Disneyland is $429/person. To go for one day to Disneyland, for my family (excluding the twins because they are still 20 months) it would be $206. $206. I can get an 80 minute massage, a cocktail, and dinner for $206. Ok, that's selfish. The other day I managed to get my kids a HUGE BAG of clothes consisting of what is essentially their entire winter wardrobe for less than $200.
Moreover, I really can't go anywhere with these little people for more than a 3-4 hours or so because then they spontaneously combust with exhaustion and I proceed to combust. So, I would pay $206 for my entire family to disintegrate into tears in less than 4 hours.
Alright, so, I won't get to see the pure joy in the eyes of my children. I would pay $206 for the pure joy in the eyes of my children but is that why you Disney-philes flock there? Because honestly, I can get pure joy at the zoo and the kids almost burst with joy at the aquarium a few weeks ago and it was perfectly doable in a 4 hour block of time without breaking the budget. And then, there are those people who always loved Disneyland - as kids, as adults, pre-kids, post-kids, etc. And they will always completely baffle me. I almost can't imagine any place I would want to be less (excluding jail, underground tunnels trying to cross the border, and traffic school).
I need an explanation. Digame.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
You Can't Change DNA
Though, I have not been diagnosed as clinically obsessive compulsive, J often jokes about the things that I am extremely anal about and how I need things a certain way. I am getting better now that chaos and Fisher-Price have exploded in my abode. But, we are very routined around here, and in my own existence, things are done the same way, all the time, or I get a little flustered and off.
Examples, the sheets have to be just right so I can sleep. If the sheets are messy in any way, then I will get out of bed and make the bed and then unmake it so I can sleep. J makes fun of me because he says I make the bed in the morning while he is still in it. {Sheepishly, yes, I make my half but otherwise, he doesn't and then I have to look at a mess.} Anyhow, that is beside the point.
When I was a kid, I remember repeatedly getting up out of bed because I was not sure if I had checked the closets for the monsters and The Night Stalker. Closet and then under the bed, maybe 7 times. I use the word kid loosely because I think I just stopped doing this in my 20s.
I also had the same Good Night ritual with my Mom, every single night. I would say the same thing in the same order. And, if she did not respond correct or if I did not hear it, or if I wanted it said again, then I would keep saying it and saying it and saying it. Totally psycho. And yet, my Mother never was like OMG GOOD NIGHT FRIGGEN ALREADY!!!
OK, OCD. So, here is my question. My Lulo is totally like me and you know what, it drives me a little nuts sometimes, makes me laugh other times. Mostly the nuts one. Am I allowed to get annoyed sometimes when he is really just doing what a little me would have done? Is this my genetic curse?
He wants his blankets on a certain way and if I tuck him in a little different, if the satin on one of his blankets is flipped over a little bit. He is like FIX THE BLANKET, FIX IT, FIX IT, FIX IT. And then, his Good Night ritual is the same, he wants to hear it, he wants to hear it the same way every night and he makes me repeat it and repeat it until it is how he wants it. I have a 100 examples of this kind of nonsense. These are just a few that are 100% identical to me.
He is soooo my kid. But, I do not think it is right to get irritated when he really is just me all over again. I mean, come on! He can't help himself, his genetic code is embedded with this anal retentive, weird borderline OCD stuff. I love that kid. He may not look like me, but he is totally me. How did my mother do this?
Examples, the sheets have to be just right so I can sleep. If the sheets are messy in any way, then I will get out of bed and make the bed and then unmake it so I can sleep. J makes fun of me because he says I make the bed in the morning while he is still in it. {Sheepishly, yes, I make my half but otherwise, he doesn't and then I have to look at a mess.} Anyhow, that is beside the point.
When I was a kid, I remember repeatedly getting up out of bed because I was not sure if I had checked the closets for the monsters and The Night Stalker. Closet and then under the bed, maybe 7 times. I use the word kid loosely because I think I just stopped doing this in my 20s.
I also had the same Good Night ritual with my Mom, every single night. I would say the same thing in the same order. And, if she did not respond correct or if I did not hear it, or if I wanted it said again, then I would keep saying it and saying it and saying it. Totally psycho. And yet, my Mother never was like OMG GOOD NIGHT FRIGGEN ALREADY!!!
OK, OCD. So, here is my question. My Lulo is totally like me and you know what, it drives me a little nuts sometimes, makes me laugh other times. Mostly the nuts one. Am I allowed to get annoyed sometimes when he is really just doing what a little me would have done? Is this my genetic curse?
He wants his blankets on a certain way and if I tuck him in a little different, if the satin on one of his blankets is flipped over a little bit. He is like FIX THE BLANKET, FIX IT, FIX IT, FIX IT. And then, his Good Night ritual is the same, he wants to hear it, he wants to hear it the same way every night and he makes me repeat it and repeat it until it is how he wants it. I have a 100 examples of this kind of nonsense. These are just a few that are 100% identical to me.
He is soooo my kid. But, I do not think it is right to get irritated when he really is just me all over again. I mean, come on! He can't help himself, his genetic code is embedded with this anal retentive, weird borderline OCD stuff. I love that kid. He may not look like me, but he is totally me. How did my mother do this?
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