Chapter 31 - Mommy looks like a scarecrow --

So, one day last week while I was getting the kids ready for school, my daughter Lily turned to me and said, “You know, I could help you out with dresses and stuff in the morning if you want”.  How sweet, how very sweet of my darling girl.  She thinks I need help, and she’s right.   (I did look like a crazy person)

…but wait, to defend myself for just one moment, I should mention that I work from home 3 days a week, and this happened on a “work from home” day, so it’s not like my choice of attire was of any great importance, as I was spending the entire day all alone at my computer.   Also, my husband travels for work…a lot.  He is presently in India, on day 15 of an 18 day trip.  I have been particularly busy at work with two huge projects over-lapping, my son decided to time the arrival of the “terrible 2’s” basically with the exact departure time of his father’s flight to India, my house looks like a team of tazmanian devils ran through it,   and my daughter, while oh-so-sweet with her offer to help, lands somewhere on the border between the age of 4 and the age of 15, reminding me daily that “nothing in this house is fun or fair!”  So, on the fashion front…I think I’ll give myself a pass.  I just figured that Lily's offer to help comes from the fact that she is a fancy princess who loves dressing up, so she just thinks it would be fun if I were more like her, and I leave it at that.

....until I got to my son's daycare.

  His school is having a scarecrow contest.  Every classroom works on a scarecrow, and then displays them around the school.  There is one near the entrance, and as we walked past it that same morning, JD said, “that looks like Mommy!” And that was when I realized that the kind and loving offer from my daughter earlier that morning was not because she wants me to be a fancy princess like her, it’s because I look like a scarecrow and I’m embarrassing my children.  Oh good Lord.  So, I thought about it….let's see...I definitely brushed my teeth that morning, so I know that at one point I was in front of a mirror, but I couldn’t in all honesty say whether or not I actually looked at myself in it, I just didn’t remember.   When on earth did this happen???  I mean, I’ve never really been one to put in a tremendous amount of time on hair and make-up (with the exception of the 6^th – 9^th grade – I used more hair products and make up during those years than in all following years combined) – but, I did more or less make an attempt to look presentable more often than not.  When exactly did that stop??

I recently updated my profile picture on facebook, it was a picture of myself from an awards dinner I attended with my husband, so I was dressed up and  made-up and my hair was not up in a messy ponytail as usual.  It was a nice enough picture I suppose, but so many people told me they liked it that I stated to think maybe it was a joke.  (Sidebar:  This stems directly from teenage years of super low self-esteem coupled with a steady diet of too many 1980’s teen-angst movies.  ie: if the cute boy asks you out, it is most likely so that he and his friends can make fun of you later or its all part of a "date a nerd" contest or something)    BUT then I realized….this was all because of my new scarecrow persona.  It wasn’t really that great of a picture of me, but it WAS a great picture of the scarecrow that I’ve become! – something must be done!  I look so awful most of the time that one night of hair and make-up actually IS a really big deal!  So, here it is:  I vow to stop embarrassing my children in public (with my appearance anyway, my personality is still their problem to deal with) – I hereby promise to pay a little more attention to my appearance on a daily basis…although I do have to say that JD pointing out that I look like a scarecrow, if nothing else, means that for ONCE my outfit is in season!

Yes!  I’ll take it!

Chapter 30 - GET USED TO IT!

As I’ve admitted in the past, the through-line of my blog hasn’t been very clear, maybe because I don’t really have one anymore, and as I stated in an earlier post, I’ve given myself permission to write about anything and everything and to enjoy just writing for the sake of writing.  Life has been hectic lately, and as usual I haven’t posted as much as I would have liked, but there is something on my mind that I need to get it down “on paper” and maybe sort through my feelings about it. 

I’m basically a non-confrontational person, but this time I’ve had it. This was a monumental week, and I’ve so loved seeing all the love, the support, the celebrations, the PRIDE that’s been floating around the internet and especially facebook.  I’m happy for my friends and family, I’m happy for my country, I’m happy that we are taking a step in the right direction and that society, baby steps though they may be, is getting closer to being "all grownsed up and all grownsed up and all grownsed up" (hopefully quoting “Swingers” won’t take away from the sincerity of my words – I can’t help it, I suffer from a pop culture illness and symptoms tend to break out at the worst times)

Anyway, I’ve always been a proud supporter of my LGBT friends and family and up until now, I haven’t really been one to argue too much with people who disagree.  I don’t like to argue politics, and I don’t like to argue religion.  I believe that everyone IS entitled to their opinions and beliefs, but please people…don’t kid yourselves into thinking that that’s what this is. This is not about politics, this is not about your religious views, or how you interpret the Bible.  (and I won’t even go too far into that.  Anyone that wants to literally live by what they think the Bible says needs to admit they are sinning every time they wear a certain fabric, eat a certain meat or refrain from beating their children when they misbehave).   But that is not even the point because this is not about anyone’s religion or beliefs, it’s about the law.   It’s about basic human rights, about civil liberties, about equality.  “I don’t agree with it…that’s just my opinion” – Do you think that saying that’s “just my opinion” implies somehow that it’s harmless, that it’s not damaging?  You “don’t agree with” someone’s life and who they choose to love?  Who asked you?  And more to the point, what does that have to do with the law?  I don't agree with Giants fans, but I certainly don't want to take their rights away.

You know there are the Westboro Baptist types of extreme lunatics, and they are hateful and they are dangerous in their own way, but they are so over the top and ridiculous that they are more like clowns of society that no one with any sense would take seriously.  Or, someone who goes on the news and says that gay people should be fenced in (you know who gives birth to gay babies, right? Straight people.  Uh-oh, they are totally outside the fence -- now what??)  , it’s easy to laugh them off as lunatics and go on your way, but what I think is really more dangerous are the sane, well-spoken and well-educated people who casually toss out their opinion, to their friends, to society, to their children…that other people in our country should not have the same rights that they do.  People need to be aware of the weight that their words carry and the impact that their opinions have.  That’s why I feel that if you can make the statement that you don’t agree with gay marriage, you should be made fully aware of what you are really saying.  You need to OWN your opinion and the impact of your words.  You need to be able to look into your heart and say, and mean that you feel that you are entitled to benefits in this country that some of your fellow citizens are NOT entitled to.  You can have tax breaks, and health benefits, you can make medical decisions for your spouse, you can collect your spouses’ social security when they pass away, you can take advantage of the 1,138 benefits denied to gay couples who were told they could not marry.  If you can say that you believe you are more entitled to these things because of who you choose to marry, than please say that instead. 

While I’m ranting, another thing that I’ve seen written lately was that gay marriages are harmful to the children.  This kind of ignorant statement makes my blood pressure reach heights unknown.  I can only assume that someone that would say something like this must not actually know any gay couples with children.  So, this is another statement that I would love for someone to back up and explain to me.  And please don’t tell me that a child NEEDS to be raised by a male and a female, or else you will have to start knocking on doors of all the amazing, hard-working single parents out there who are doing a damn fine job raising their kids, with their one and only gender at the helm.  Should we take some of their rights away?   I know several gay couples who are wonderful parents and are raising beautiful, well-adjusted, happy children, and I’ve certainly known of countless heterosexual couples who quite frankly shouldn’t be allowed to own a dog let alone raise a child.  There are shitty gay parents and there are shitty straight parents, but their sexual orientation certainly has NOTHING to do with their parenting skills or lack thereof.  If your argument is that it will be more difficult in society for the children of gay parents, please keep in mind that YOU are helping to foster that judgmental society… by that very statement!  Instead of saying gay couples shouldn’t have children because society will treat these children unfairly, how about we do something to change the unfair society?  Isn’t that what history has taught us to do??

So, you are a religious person who doesn't think that gay people should be allowed to get legally married because you think homosexuality is a sin.  Does that mean that atheists shouldn't get married?  Does that mean that all people who you feel are sinners should be denied benefits?   Does that mean that if I covet my neighbors possessions that I shouldn't be allowed on my husband's health insurance plan?? 

I’ve tried really hard to put myself into the shoes of people who see this differently than me.  I really have.  I have tried to come up with something that I believe strongly in and then I’ve questioned if there is anything that someone could say that would change my mind about it. I just can’t come up with any examples that relate back to this in any way.  The only people I feel shouldn’t have the same rights as me are criminals, people who harm, people who kill, people who destroy.  Not people who love, not people who just want to live their lives like everyone else.  

But, either way, what’s done is done and I suppose I’ve said what I wanted to say.  I probably don’t have the power to change anyone’s mind (I wish I did, I'd also like to be able to fly, breathe under water and wear short shorts in public), but when I make a statement, I want to have the courage to back it up with what that statement really means.  So that is what I’ve tried to do and I hope everyone else can do the same.  

In closing…get used to it.

TEACH LOVE!

Chapter 29 - Because life doesn't stop being ridiculous....

I’m in a time warp, or its simply true what they say about time moving SO much faster the older you get.  We are quickly cruising into 2013 being HALF over! -- what???   I suppose time warped, sped up and stood still for us (rinse, repeat as needed) during the past few months mainly because of my son’s surgery.  Without getting into too much medical  detail, he had to have surgery on his kidneys for a condition he was diagnosed with a year ago.  I write about that now in a quick easy sentence as if it wasn’t an awful and scary thing for my husband and I to debate, discuss, research and finally (and rather quickly) agree upon.  But, agree upon it we did and from there, things moved very fast.

My son’s urologist is one of the best, and therefore, getting an appointment with him sometimes takes a while.  With several offices in New York and NJ, and two days a week in the OR, the man’s time is hard to get.  Because of this we were expecting the surgery to be scheduled sometime in the next couple of months, so when the surgical booking staff called us to set up a time, we were shocked when she said, “how’s next Tuesday?”  One week and one day after we were told JD should have the surgery, we were at the hospital checking in for it. 

Because life does not stop being ridiculous, even in the tense and trying moments, I’m going to focus on that.  For the purposes of this blog, I won’t get into the complete and utter wreck we were watching our son go through this.  Also, now that we’re on this side of it and he has recovered SO well, it’s much easier to think about it, write about it and laugh about the crazy moments along the way.

JD’s surgery was at a hospital in New York City a couple of blocks away from where we used to live, but since we no longer live there, we decided to stay in a hotel the night before.  We booked a room at what I later found out was called a "boutique hotel".  From the moment we checked in to 2 weeks later when we had a family toast (juice boxes and champagne) while JD threw his meds in the garbage, we had our fair share of ridiculousness…it is afterall, what we do best.

JD throwing away his meds!

First off…the “boutique hotel”:  Tony must have said this phrase 20 times while we were there.  Granted, the man is clearly more traveled then I, as he travels all over the world for work.  But, every time I remarked on something I thought a bit odd, he had to say, “well of course Sue…it’s a boutique hotel”.  (I could have made a drinking game out of it.  “It’s a boutique hotel”  “DRINK!”)  So, according to Tony, that is the reason why 

a) we rode in a black alligator-skin elevator to get to our room (yes, alligator-skin walls)

b) there was an ill-cut zebra print carpet everywhere that didn’t quite cover the slanted and bumpy floor
c) we needed to use our key card to turn on the electricity in the room 

d) there was no shower curtain or shower door (hence a soaking wet floor post showering) and 

e) there was a maintenance man in our room 3 times during the night to turn on (then off, then on again) the heat because we could not do it ourselves.  Apparently it required a maintenance man and tools.  Tools.  It wasn’t broken (so they said), it just required the use of tools to turn it on and off.  What??  

oh, and
f) There was a giant white pleather headboard with large metal studs that went all the way up to the ceiling (and I’m so angry with myself for not taking more pictures!). 

  I do have at least one picture that captures the disorienting carpet:  (and the cutie in the mirror)  This dizzy carpet runs through the entire hotel.  Rooms, hallways, lobby....everywhere...

So, we slept in our boutique hotel, showered (while soaking the entire bathroom floor), then started walking to the hospital a few blocks away.  It was raining (of course), and at one point Tony actually turned to me and asked, “you didn’t put any make-up on?”.  He wasn't really implying that I should be wearing make-up, he could care less -- but rather he was surprised that I was walking around the city without any, so I mention this asinine question of little relevance only because it falls squarely into the category of “ridiculous”.  I'm not a person that wears make-up everyday, and if I did put any on, I certainly would have cried it right the hell off in the hours to come, so Tony’s question was nonsense on many levels.  But of course, he was as nervous and delirious as I was, and quite possibly dizzy from the busy zebra carpet and the maintenance man's cologne.

The day of JD’s surgery is fuzzy, as were most of the days we spent in the hospital.  We got him checked in, we cried, we prayed, and then they let me put on an awesome body suit and carry him into the OR.

Once JD woke up from surgery, we spent a few hours in the post-op ICU, where a very puffy little nugget slept on top of me while we took turns giving him oxygen.  He was connected to 4 different wires (heart rate monitor, catheter, IV in the hand, Epidural in the spine) and had an incision across his entire abdomen, so picking him up was a tangled balancing act that Tony and I bickered about each and every time we did it, much to the annoyance of those around us, I’m sure.  After a few hours there, we were moved to the pediatric wing of the hospital, which was our home for the rest of the week.  We were in one large room that had 4 beds and a nurses’ station.  The highlight of sharing this room with three other patients was listening to the little girl across from us watching videos of "Uncle Moishy" on her parents laptop.  I became obsessed.

Tony and I slept on a big chair across from JD’s crib/cage (that’s what we called it because it was a big metal contraption that unfortunately looked like a cage).  I left our 8 foot square area as little as possible,  to go to the bathroom, and once to a vending machine. That’s it.    Unfortunately it was during one of my trips to the bathroom that the lovely people from “Soaring Words” came to give all the kids a beautiful gift of a decorated quilt and pillow.  Look them up, it’s a wonderful organization, and the gifts they gave to JD were very special.
http://www.soaringwords.org/

Anyway, while I'm in the bathroom, JD starts screaming so Tony tries to pick him up and calm him down.  In doing so, he somehow unhooks the clip from JD's catheter bag, which spills all over JD, all over Tony, all over the floor….  just as the “Soaring Words” people come around the corner, full of smiles.... “We have a special gift for JD!!!!!”, to which Tony, soaking wet looks up and says, “Can you get a nurse!?!” –

But, once everyone and everything was cleaned up... he did enjoy the nice gift ;)  Thank you, Soaring Words

It's funny when you're in these life moments, the details you remember and the ones you leave behind.  Try as I might, I cannot get the image out of my head of carrying JD into the OR, and worst of all, having to leave him there.  That was without any doubt one of the most difficult moments I’ve ever had and a visual that won’t ever leave my memory, though it is easier to reflect on from here, blissfully on the other end of this experience.  But there are good things too... I can very clearly hear the Uncle Moishy songs playing in the background the first time JD sat up and tried to eat something, I can remember the exact look on his face when Lily came to visit him with a toy from Build a Bear and how he sat up and smiled when someone came to the room to play Disney songs on the keyboard, I can remember the way Tony cried when I left to take JD to the OR, and the way he looked when we sat down to talk to the surgeon after it was all over, his body sinking into a chair and relaxing for the first time that day.  I can remember the nurse laughing at Tony after the catheter mishap and calling it a "typical dad moment", and I remember the way JD never let go of his Mickey Mouse, even when he was fast asleep.

So, of course a lot of silly images float up to the surface of my memories of that week, but I guess that's how we deal with things, maybe that's just a way to process the more difficult moments.   I can't put into words how lucky I feel that my kids are healthy and that JD did so well in surgery and in recovery, and in between the overwhelming gratitude I feel, I can't help but laugh at some of the nonsense along the way.  Sometimes being able to joke about a nauseating carpet or a "typical dad moment" helps keep us a little sane and a little grounded.  I joke about the nonsense that follows me around in life, but at the end of the day, I'm so so very thankful for it.

Chapter 28 - Your hair will look so good, it's a crime!

There was a brief time in my life when I was a regular at a salon.  In my mid to late 20's I went to a wonderful stylist and friend (as did several of my friends, and my sister - we all loved going to Jimmy) and I was very good about keeping up with regular appointments.  Those days are long gone and you can tell by looking at me.

I could blame it on laziness, I could blame it on the fact that I have two small children and keeping up my appearance has moved way down on the list of priorities.  On the days I work from home, I have to remind myself to throw on a hat or pull my hair up into a ponytail before I run out the door. It could be that I don't want to shop around for another salon that I like and that's convenient to get to, and it could also be that paying for Lily's next couple months on the "Fun Bus" at school is a better use of $100 than getting highlights in my hair.  But, really these are all just excuses for the fact that I'm too lazy to make an appointment and too busy to keep it, and therefore my long (and getting longer) hair suffers. Oh well.  So, I'm low maintenance about my long hair....but I decided that I would try to keep up with it and make an improvement.  Since I had a few different highlights going on and my hair was various shades of light to dark blonde, I decided to get some home hair color and try to get it all back to the same shade.

I'd colored my hair at home before, and wasn't nervous or worried about it, but I did want to try to find a brand that wouldn't kill my hair with chemicals, I settled on one that I had never used before called Olia by Garnier (I think it's new) --

Anyway, as I said, I've colored my hair before and the box always comes with a pair of what they call "colorists gloves".  Easy as that! -- Just open the box and now you are officially a "colorist".  Nice.  Well, every one that I've ever used had either an opaque pair, or usually a clear pair.  But wait...what's this?  I open up the box of Olia and here's what I find:

Black gloves! -- YES!  I had to take a picture.  

 These gloves were awesome!!  Suddenly I felt like I was committing a crime.  (and if you saw how my hair turned out, well...that's not so far off) -

Anyway, don't believe me, just try it!  Try doing some simple things around your house while wearing shiny black gloves and all of a sudden, it feels sinister.  Make mashed potatoes while wearing gloves, you'll feel like you're about to poison someone.  Take the milk out of the fridge, you'll feel like you're stealing it.  Check your email...you'll feel like a cyber stalker! - Sort the mail, you're a spy!  Pet your cat, fill the sugar bowl, arrange some flowers... (for some reason those last three feel especially fiendish)

So, I can't say that I've learned my lesson about coloring my hair at home, but I can say that it was totally worth it for the gloves.

Chapter 27 - A reason to write....

– Though I promised myself I would write more often and keep up with this blasted blog, I have let a gaping hole of time go by without writing or posting.  It’s not that I don’t want to write, and I most certainly enjoy it, rather I have realized that the issue is the subject matter and the haphazard way that I went from a specific topic to a jumble of ideas in the life of this blog.  The whole reason I started it in the first place was because of my travels on the bus.  While commuting through New York City with my children on the M15 bus every day, I had one ridiculous thing happen after another and would usually post about it through my facebook status.   After the 100th person said to me "you need to write a book about this" or "start a blog", I decided I would give it a try.  Since I have two kids and a full time job, "spare time" isn't in my arsenal....so I opted for the blog over the book.  (I would love to write a book in my spare time.  Look for it on shelves in 2025)

Anyway, as far as the blog went, for a while subject matter presented itself to me every day in the form of some random lunatic on public transportation (hence the name of this blog:  MadMom:Tales of Public Transportation...which no longer makes any sense)

Then in the spring of 2012…we moved.

We left NYC and I no longer take public transportation (except for my sweet sweet ride on the ferry to Manhattan, but that is WORLDS away from commuting with two babies on a city bus every day).  I’m still a “MadMom” from time to time, but my trials and tribulations and all around nonsensical stories have nothing to do with the good old M15 bus anymore.  So, for a while I wrote about our new life in the suburbs and the transition from raising kids in NYC to raising kids in a small town in South Jersey (you are my wife….goodbye city life! – and if you don’t know the Green Acres theme song, then there is nothing more I can think of to say to you…and if you don’t know Don’t Cry For Me Argentina then ….okay, I’ll stop now – sorry) – So, from there I stumbled into my daily list of 25 Days of Ridiculous Things I See In Holiday Catalogs, which gained me a nice little regular group of readers every day and also clued me in to the fact that I actually CAN find the time to write a little bit every day if I commit to it.

 (also....this stuff was just too easy to make fun of)

And what did I do with that realization….I stopped writing.   Fail.  With the exception of our insane day at Chuck E. Cheese, I haven't kept up with this at all.  So, here we go – this is my true and sincere attempt to stay on top of the blog and give myself permission to write about anything and everything.   Writing for the sake of writing, and hopefully making someone laugh along the way.  

Though I wouldn’t call myself a “writer”, I do love to write.  I guess that sounds odd, but I feel like that title applies to people with tweed jackets and a certain amount of talent.  But, for different reasons and in different ways, I have always loved to write.  Early on my writing was solely for the purpose of emoting to a boy that didn’t like me, or one who did, or one who didn’t know I existed, or one who broke my heart.  Looking back at this writing, it’s amazing the level of emotion I was able to describe and get down on paper.  (A broken heart brings tons of adjectives to the surface).  Then I tried writing plays.  As an actor and theatre-lover, I thought this would be a wonderful idea and I truly enjoyed taking on the challenge.  The only problem was that I lacked that one thing that would have been necessary (talent for playwriting).  Also, according to my husband, who actually IS a talented playwright, I abuse pop culture references like it's my job.  Apparently everyone does NOT love a random Brady Bunch reference thrown in without warning.  Not everyone watched Three's Company religiously, not everyone memorized all of the John Hughes movies, not everyone remembers all the different kidnapping episodes on Different Strokes...who knew?

So moving on, now I just really like to write to make fun of the things around me, and quite often myself.   Riding the bus everyday presented me with limitless things and people to make fun of, but there’s still quite a bit of nonsense in my world.  (also... I still get a lot of silly catalogs)

So there it is…. an official so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu to The Tales of Public Transportation (and if you don’t know the Sound of Music then I said good day Sir!, and if you don’t know lines from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, then ….well, then you probably won’t like my blog) –

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 26 - There is a Bottle King across the street from Chuck E. Cheese...

We did it, lo hicimos, we did it.  (a nod to the Dora watchers out there...) -  We survived our first trip to Chuck E. Cheese!! -

 One of my daughters classmates,  and her "BFF", had her 4th birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese over the weekend.

We went, we played, we survived.  

While the establishment does not sell any t-shirts or cups with that slogan, they really should consider it because I feel like it's a badge of honor that all parents who've been should proudly wear afterwards.  And it should come with a complimentary box of wine.  How many tickets do I need to win that box of cabernet, please???

Before I get to Chuck E.Cheese, I'll tell you about the little gift drama that we had at my house before even making it to the party.  Earlier in the week I had asked Lily what her friend liked to play with, so I had some ideas while gift shopping.  She said her friend really loves necklaces, so I decided to get her a few bead kits and a decorate-your-own jewelry box.  I thought this was a great idea until I showed it all to Lily and she said, "Okay, great! Let's open it up and make her some necklaces!".

I tried to tell her that the gift is so that the birthday girl can make the necklaces herself and Lily looked at me like I was insane, and just SO uninformed in the ways of the world.  She said...."Mommy, what??!?!  That is NOT how a present works!!! -- Why would I give her a present that means she has to do all the work??"
I reminded her that her aunt got her some arts and crafts to do, and wasn't that a nice present and this is kind of the same thing and she said "NO, ...because she did them WITH me, so I didn't have to do all the work."  So, we went back and forth on this for some time, and fortunately, I know my little nut better than myself sometimes and was prepared with a smaller bead kit...just in case.  So, Lily made her friend a necklace to go along with the gifts I had bought, even though she thought it a bit cruel that I would give her friend a job to do as a present...

Now, we finally get to Saturday afternoon and she is ridiculously excited about her first trip to Chuck E.Cheese and  to celebrate with her friend.  I've never been to a Chuck E. Cheese before.  My one big birthday party as a kid was in the back room at Bonanza (we played pin the red nose on rudolph and it was a grand old time), but I've been to places like Chuck E.Cheese and I was reasonably prepared for what to expect.  I was looking forward to a loud and sticky saturday afternoon that I knew Lily would enjoy...for the most part.  When we got there, the mother of the birthday girl gave the kids a cup of tokens each so they could play all the games, which was awesome.

Lily had a great time and loved running around trying different rides and games with her friends.  Watching her and her BFF crack up over a game of air hockey they played together was pretty much the highlight of my day.  All was well until we were called to the "stage" area with all the other birthday parties.  All of the birthday parties being held on any given day experience the events and shows at the same time, so we were surrounded by parties on both sides (a total of 5 birthday parties were going on at the same time, in the same space, with the same mouse).  Each party was assigned a staff member who told them the appropriate times to yell and cheer and bang on the table, as this was all a choreographed contest of sorts to see which group could get the loudest.  Since all 5 parties were squished together at long banquet style tables side by side, there wasn't much room for me to stay near Lily.

 I didn't want to get my nearly 6 feet of height between approximately 50 screaming children (in a screaming CONTEST, don't forget)  and the mouse on stage that they're all trying to see, so I tried to move to the back a bit with the other dazed parents who didn't really seem to know where to go either.  I could see Lily from where I was, and she seemed to be having fun with her friends.


I walked away for approximately 90 seconds, that's it, just 90 seconds.... it couldn't have taken any longer than that for me to excuse me, sorry...excuse me...pardon me..oh...sorry, excuse me, can I just squeeze by...excuse me... my way to the soda fountains for a diet coke.  In that time, the giant mechanical animals on stage started their rock concert, the giant mouse ran out (Pardon me, "Chuck E." ran out), the screaming contest reached volumes indescribable and Lily lost her sh*t.

When I left she was smiling, laughing with her friends and happily eating pizza.  When I turned back, my hands full of diet coke, a cup of tokens and the tickets Lily had proudly earned playing games, I scanned the crowd and found her:  red faced, tears streaming, greasy pizza hands firmly clamped over her ears and she's screaming for me.  Of course I can't hear her over the rousing: ...."when I say happy, you say birthday, happy....BIRTHDAY...happy ...BIRTHDAY -- LOUDER! LOUDER!!!!!"  I rushed back to her table and again proceeded to excuse me...sorry, can I just scooch past...excuse me, can I...thank you...sorry...excuse me.... until I could get to her.  "MAMAAAAAAAAA!!!" she's screaming the entire time.  So, I finally get to her and attempt to sandwich my body between her chair and the chair of the kid at the party one table over, who is of course pushed all the way out and up to the back of Lily's chair.  I try to get him to move, to no avail as he's too busy screaming "BIRTHDAY!" at the top of his lungs (as he's been instructed to do), so I squish myself in as best as I can and hold onto Lily to calm her down.  The singing and screaming reaches a fever pitch, as does Lily's crying (though no one can hear her, of course -- so, at least she didn't interrupt the show)

 And after the climax of 5 birthday parties singing and screaming in unison, the volume comes down a little bit.  Cake is served,  Lily calms down, order is restored.    She returns to the games, excitedly watches her BFF stand inside the "Ticket Blaster" (kinda like a money machine from old game shows)

and then she runs around and plays some more.  Tony and JD arrive to pick us up, and we let JD run around a bit.  Then the ticket chomper digests Lily's tickets, gives her the total and she proceeds to the counter of treasures to pick out a purple plastic peace sign necklace.  We thank the birthday girl's parents, say good bye to Lily's friends, stumble out to the parking lot and I immediately direct Tony across the street to the Bottle King, which I can only imagine does amazing business on Saturdays at 2:00, when the birthday parties let out.

We did it, lo hicimos, we did it.

That said, and a bottle of well-deserved pinot grigio later, there was a tiny (crazy) part of me that decided I can't wait to go back.  With the exception of Lily's hysterical tantrum, she had a really really good time.  She loved running around with her friends and was laughing hysterically a lot more than she was crying hysterically and I suppose there are days where that's what you shoot for!  Also, any place where we can let JD run around and get his manic bursts of energy out is a good place to be, although, even he was a little dazed after only being there only a short time.

And of course, even though she screamed and cried and has a hard time with really loud noises that scare her and hurt her ears, Lily has already told me that she knows 100% and "absolooopsly" where she wants to have her next birthday party.

So, if you ever read my post "I Lost My Mind at Party City", you'll know I tend to go a bit overboard with party favors.  And this shall be no exception.  I've already started working on party favors for the parents at Lily's next party....

Whatcha think??

Chapter 25 - Happy Sue Year

With 25 Days of Ridiculous Things I See In Holiday Catalogs, I got away from my chapters of rambling.  -- but, now I'm back to it with Chapter 25.....Happy Sue Year

So, 17 days in and I’m ready to start rambling about New Year’s.... I know it's a new year because ever since the clock struck 2013, I cannot get a parking spot at my kids’ daycare.  Reason being that the daycare shares a parking lot with a gym.  I’m sure in the next few weeks this will taper off and the parking lot won’t be so crowded.  And while these gym-joining folks are sweating away at their new resolution, I've got one of my own, a mantle of a new philosophy which just draped itself over my shoulders this past weekend, and will hopefully reside there longer than my fellow parking companions  reside at the gym.

Last weekend I took my kids to visit my sister’s home.  She and her fiancé (yay!) recently moved to a beautiful place, in the middle of no where, PA 

CHICKENS!

.... and we all had a lovely visit. 

Anyway, while driving back home late Sunday afternoon I was almost in a car accident on 287 South about a mile before the Parkway South exit.  Some moron missed his exit and decided to slam on his brakes two lanes over from the exit lane and come to a dead stop.  Cars swerved around him on both sides, and just as I was about to do the same (swerve around him on the right), he decided he would make a hard right turn and just drive over to the exit ramp he had just passed.   I was already braking as I was trying to go around him, but I had been doing about 65 and there was no way I would be able to come to a complete stop in time.  Both my kids were asleep in their carseats in the back.  If someone had told me prior to that moment that this was going to happen, I would assume panic on my part, but surprisingly I had a very odd moment of calm…This thought went through my mind:  I am going to hit this car, and its going to be bad, but the kids and I are going to be okay.  Well I feel very fortunate to say that the moron turned just enough and I swerved just enough and I missed him by what I’m guessing were just inches, I don’t even know.  As I replay it in my head, I’m still not quite sure how it is that I didn't hit him, as his car was pretty much perpendicular to mine in my lane.  In the moments afterwards, I felt kind of sick and jumpy, I guess it was from a mixture of adrenaline, fear and anger at what had just happened and how my babies were in danger because of some careless idiot.  I was shaken up for a while, and then the calm came back and I just felt overwhelming gratitude.  I had a feeling of so much thankfulness that we were all okay, I don’t even think I can describe it.  All of us experience near misses of things like this all the time, so I’m not sure why this particular moment brought it out, but I haven’t been able to shake it.  I'm now left feeling super grateful about everything.  I feel grateful when I wake up in the morning and when I put my kids to bed at night and everything in between.   I can’t really explain it and as simple as it may be, it feels really good and I want to keep it wrapped around me as long as I can. 

When JD's crying wakes me up in the middle of the night, I don’t feel frustrated that I’m not getting a good night’s sleep, I remember to feel blessed that my baby is healthy and can breathe and cry and make wonderful sounds.  When Lily has a temper tantrum and hits volumes and squeals that only a 4 year old girl can, I don’t lose my patience and wonder why I have to deal with this all alone, I thank God that my daughter is so stubborn and smart that she can actually make an intelligent argument for whatever crazy thing it is she’s getting upset about.  When I want to cry because I’m so tired while Tony is away again on business and I’m taking care of everything all by myself, instead I feel gratitude that we both have good jobs, that we’re able to support our family, that I’m not a single parent ALL of the time and most of all that I have a home and children that need taking care of, that I’m tired for the most delightful of reasons.

So okay, this may sound annoying sappy and I promise to get back to making fun of myself and the outside world in my next post....I’m sure this shiny happy feeling will wear off a little and there will be many times where I lose my mind at the drop of a hat  (hell, it’s only Thursday – and this near accident happened just a few days ago)  I will become frustrated and angry and get upset about stupid things, but isn't it worth a try to follow up those moments with a reminder of thankfulness, of gratitude, of holy-shite folks, we're really really lucky people, you know? Please be thankful for what you have, be grateful for the moments that you’re in, be happy about the amazing things and people that are around you.

2012 was a year of blessings and tragedy, a year of growth and regression, a year of moving forward and a year of getting pushed around, but we all need to remember that we have so very much to be thankful for and that life is really too short to get wrapped up in the petty arguments and the stupid complaints.  Get over it and be grateful for this moment, for right now.  Sometimes this ride is thrilling and sometimes it makes you sick, but man are you lucky that you’re on it.  Just what the hell is it that everyone is so angry about?  Go thank someone for something.  Call your Mom, kiss your wife, tickle a baby, go buy an eclair.  Get over yourself.  If you believe in God, thank her for this day! - If you don't, thank your lucky stars or whatever higher power brings you blessings.  Go to sleep tonight happier than when you woke up regardless of what happens to you today because deep down in your heart, you know that no matter what your day was like, someone had it worse and you have A LOT to be thankful for.

You are blessed!

-- Happy New Year!