Oy Vey

Leah has decided she's Jewish. I don't know where this is coming from. I don't know if she knows what it means but she talks about culture and that she feels Jewish.

I keep telling her that she's Christian. She says that dad and I are and she's not.

She gets mad when I tell her she's not Jewish and wants to know how I know. I said when she's older we'll test her dna. The very strange thing is that I think I'm part Jewish. My dad's grandparents are from Russia and his side of the family looks Jewish. All of my uncles looked like Walter Matthau (he was Jewish, right?) I've considered the mailorder dna test that everyone is doing (but it's kind of expensive.)

I know Leah is serious because I said if she's Jewish she can't celebrate Christmas and Santa won't come. Ever quick on her feet, she said "Santa will come for you guys so he'll leave something for me too."

And then she looked at me like I was meshugeneh.

Waxing poetic

Back to the basics of being an old mom. I’m sure a mom under 40 has never heard this.

"Quit hugging me, your chin hair is spiking me."

Thanksgiving 2008

So much to be thankful for.


Working wifi
Friends that know computers
Venti green iced tea
David Letterman
Bumble and Bumble shampoo
My DVR
Momma Mia, the movie
Migraine medication
Postino
Champagne
Seven year olds with attitude
A satisfying job
Christmas music
Low interest rates
Healthy parents
The Sunday before Thanksgiving
The View (I know!)
Unspent bonuses
Loving husbands
Champagne
Smart doctors
Good realtors
Good mortgage brokers
Childhood friends
Football
Good bosses
Obama
Champagne
Van Morrison
Big brothers
Chips and salsa
Longevity on both sides of my family
Sedona
Pumpkin cream cheese
Thai food
Domino magazine
Golden Retrievers
Mad Men
Chocolate chip cookies
$1.999 gas
Wise friends
Real wooden floors
Online banking
Basil
Spicy bloody Marys
Companies that close for a week at Xmas

For Richer and Poorer

Today is our 24th wedding anniversary.

We met at a dive bar called the Daily Double. Lynn seemed so nice and polite at a time when I preferred bad boys. I have since discovered that he has an edge. Not a bad boy per se, but definitely a side that ventures into breaking the rules a bit.

After 24 years, things can get stale but Lynn continues to surprise me -- often he's annoying but it's far outweighed with the good times.

He still treats me like a queen and he is my rock when times are tough. In a crisis, Lynn is the go-to guy.

When our daughter was born and there was a chance that we might lose her, I fell apart but Lynn never wavered. His strength and heroism brought our girl to us.

And when she came home from the hospital, he would not let go of her. She spent her first night sleeping on his shoulder. He protects both of us in exactly the ways that we need.

So today we celebrated our anniversary. Meatloaf and mashed potatoes, accompanied by champagne. The menu tonight defines our life -- pleasantly ordinary layered with sweet, boozy possibilities.

Maybe It's Me

I had another altercation with a customer service person. We had to have termite treatments at our house before we could sell it...to the tune of $1200.
Back in September, I paid the bill in full but we keep receiving statements from Terminix. We've called and they tell us that everything is okay. So today, we received a nasty collection call. I called to tell them they need to update their records.
I started out very polite. Then "Sandy" got a little snippy with me. She said I sent the check to the wrong place and I should have sent it to them, not the corporate headquarters.
I said "Nevertheless, you cashed the check 2 months ago".
Then she started to scold me.

WAIT A MINUTE.

I'm the customer.

The customer who paid her bill in full 2 months ago. I said, "I don't care where I sent the check, you cashed it and there is a zero balance. Please take care of this."

Then she hung up on me.

Eye of the Beholder

We took a road trip over Fall Break. I wanted Leah to see the Grand Canyon and Sedona. I know trips to admire scenery are not at the top of the list for most kids but she seemed fairly excited about going to Northern Arizona. It was a pleasant car trip reminiscent of my childhood complete with singing (Christmas songs), lots of McDonald stops and a few arguments (mostly over the ear drops.)

Here's Sedona.

And here is the breathtaking (I know a cliche) Grand Canyon.

I asked Leah what the best part of the trip was. I was sure she'd say the Grand Canyon (she seemed genuinely interested in it) or she'd at least say the squirrel that we saw at the edge of the canyon, or the beautiful jewelry we saw in some of the shops in Sedona.

Alas, she was most in awe of Bedrock. A crazy little tourist trap just outside the entrance to the Grand Canyon. That's what she mentions when we talk about our trip.

Screw the Recession

There are more important concerns in my life.

I still don't have the Internet.

I'm hoping to get some help with it this weekend. I don't know how much longer I can take this. I have so much to say.

I keep a mental list of things that Leah will need to look for in a husband -- understanding, compassionate man, someone who values family and friends, hard worker, blah, blah, blah. I'm starting to rethink this list.

Look for someone who is technosavvy.

That's all I have to say about that.

I'm Back

Or rather, my Internet connection is back. It finally arrived today. The cable guy came out twice, installed all new cables and a new modem which fixed the cable tv and the pc but it wreaked havoc on my laptop's Internet connection. I actually had to fiddle with some settings all by myself to completely fix it.

But everything's okay now.

Whew. I thought I was going to have to enter Internet rehab. Look for new posts later this week.

Public Service Announcement from AARPMOM

One of the newsletters I subscribe to mentioned this non partisan web site that spells out the differences between the candidates. If you are like me and your head starts to hurt with all of the political posturing and venom, you might want to take a look.


This site lists an issue and then describes each candidate's position in a very simplistic way.


http://www.declareyourself.com/voting_faq/issues_3.html


You can thank me later.


Ciao.

Our Leaders

I don't know if the bail out is good or bad but it seems like our government needs to do something to help our country get out of this precarious economic situation.

Wouldn't you know it, our leaders screwed things up. The Republicans got mad at Nancy Pelosi for being political right before the vote so they voted against it. Perhaps Ms. Pelosi's comments were ill-timed but sometimes you have to put your hurt feelings aside for the bigger good. Especially when it means keeping your country out of a depression. Do they think helping us slide into a financial abyss will teach Nancy Pelosi a lesson???

President Bush (their leader, a Republican president) asked them to vote for the bail out and because they were mad at the speaker of the house, they changed their minds. They put their emotions ahead of what is best for our country. Don't they know that us regular people face things like this everyday? Sometimes at work or with our families we don't necessarily agree with the way things are going but we do things because IT'S THE RIGHT THING TO DO. We swallow our pride, roll up our sleeves and work on the situation at hand.

So I hope we all learned something from this. Next time, ignore the speaker and make the vote you're supposed to make. Afterwards when the country isn't falling apart and your constituents aren't standing in the unemployment line, you can make faces at Ms. Pelosi behind her back or you can put laxative in her coffee, but for now my friends, let's focus on the big picture.

A Cautionary Tale

We sold our house last month and we’re house hunting. You’d think it would be easy. There are many houses on the market.

We thought we found one this week. It was in the right neighborhood and had the right floor plan. But there was a catch. As we are learning, there's always a catch.

The house suffered from severe neglect. From the outside it looked fine but when we opened the door we were hit with the distinct odor of too many dogs and not enough cleaning products. The carpet was a mess - red stain, blue stain, one stain, two stain. Black stain, brown stain, all around the town stain.

None of the smaller bedrooms had closet doors, and not a single interior door latched. The master bathroom was a mess. Couldn’t even open the shower door EEWWWWWWWWWWW.

I dared not enter the hall bathroom. I just knew it would be like walking into the unisex bathroom of a Texaco station in the middle of the desert where water is scarce and Lysol is scarcer.

The kitchen had old formica counters and dark wood cabinets. I could have lived with the cabinets but at least one drawer face was missing. The range was circa 1980 with a microwave connected to it at the top. This particular microwave included a large burn mark where this family had burned Dinty Moore stew or whatever it is people like this eat. Next to the range was a smaller microwave on the counter which led me to believe the built-in didn’t work.

The ceiling in the kitchen included an unfinished lighting project. No cover on the fluorescent bulbs which didn't really matter, since half the bulbs were missing anyway.

The backyard was another testament to the sensibilities of the residents. No landscaping to speak of unless you like dried out weeds and dirt. I suppose it could be called natural and might even work if it were in one of the tony desert enclaves in Cave Creek or Carefree, Arizona. But out there, the dried grasses and dirt also include some well placed cactus and desert flowers -- at least a Palo Verde tree.

The pool was okay. A diving pool minus the diving board. The kool deck had gashes, holes and substantial cracks.

Oh and did I mention that this gem is around the corner from a house facing imminent foreclosure and another place that's been on the market for nearly 3 years?

So, there you have it. You're wondering why we even looked at it? Well, we can see past the grime and the dirt and the stains and the aged dog poo. I could even imagine a day when the odor turned from stale dog urine to spicy potpourri or cranberry candles. So what is this leading to? We offered $94,000 less than the asking price. We knew we were taking a big chance but the repairs to make it livable totalled a conservative $58,000. And we thought the sellers might realize that few people will make it past the odoriferous foyer.

We also factored in our time and the fact that we had just spent about $10,000 fixing up our house. We settled for $50,000 less than our original asking price and we were happy to get it. And I'm proud to report that no one entered our house unless we had vacuumed, spritzed and polished it to a shiny palace.

So, why am I telling you this? I'm not sure, mostly I just want to complain about the idiotic sellers. We have run across this more than once. Sellers who are insulted by our painstakingly researched offers. In one case the house we wanted went to auction 2 weeks after they refused our offer. The auction reaped $45,000 less than our offer. So because of someone's arrogance, the bank took an additional $45,000 hit on an already losing proposition.

So good luck to all of you out there. I hope you are having better luck finding your dream house. We know that if we are patient, our perfect casa is out there waiting for us. In the meantime, I'll keep you posted.

Whatever Happened to "See Spot Run"

My car is an extension of my purse. There is stuff everywhere. Magazines, gym clothes, empty water bottles, various cds, stuff for Goodwill, Barbies, books and fast food wrappers. Messy yet harmless.

It's common for Leah to read whatever she finds in the backseat. One time there was a People magazine. I was proud of her for reading a magazine that's published at a 7th grade level -- she can figure out most of the words. Pretty good for a 2nd grader. All was fine until she asked me about the pregnant man. I think I screamed. "Hand it to me, I don't think you should read that." "But why is a man preg-a-nant?" she asked. Usually I am pretty non-judgmental but this time I said "He's a freak, Leah, it's not right." Dang. How am I supposed to explain this when I don't get it? After that, I monitored where I threw my People magazines.

I love vintage aprons. My friend Didi gave me this one a few weeks ago. This also ended up in the back seat. I forgot it was there until last Friday on the way to school when I heard a little voice say, "one jigger gin (pronounced with a hard g), one egg, one teesp powed sugar, mix, strain, pour over ice fill with selt-a-zer." Huh? She continued "Bronx Cocktail, one third dry gin (again pronounced with a hard g)." When it dawned on me she was reading the apron, which could only enhance her reading skills, I corrected her "It's gin, honey." She continued "1/3 ver-MOUTH." "Vermooth," I said. "1/3 orange juice, ice, shake, strain."

My vintage apron includes recipes for various cocktails from the 1950's. Leah read all of them. Apple Blossom, Planters Punch and "mommy, oooo, Martini."

At some point, this knowledge might come in handy. Or it may result in her teacher calling Child Protective Services.

You Say It's Your Birthday

Happy birthday to you, mom.

Eighty four years old today.

There is much to admire about my mom. She is smart and curious and the heart of our family. She is the best baker I know. She can whip up yummy French bread, wonderful chocolate chip cookies and these light buttery rolls that we call "birds". She loves the Oregon Ducks and the Seattle Mariners.

But most of all she loves Leah.

My parents were born to be grandparents. They were 77 when my daughter was born but they jumped right in. My mom took over when we got the news about Leah's arrival. I was in a daze but she pushed me to find a crib, a changing table and all the right accessories. When we almost lost Leah, she turned to her faith and put our fate in God's hands. I was numb but she didn't give up. When everything turned out okay, she did not seem surprised.

I'm not sure if it's true of all mom's in their eighties, but I've noticed that with her, my stock has risen over the years. For whatever reason, my mom thinks I am very wise. She thinks I know everything about everything. She thinks I can find anything and fix everything. She also thinks I'm a gourmet cook (I'm not) and I'm quite positive she thinks I'm in charge at work (believe me, I'm not.)

I live 1,200 miles away from her and every year she sends me her handwritten Christmas letter so that I can edit it, print it on Christmas paper and ship it all back to her. Every year I delete the introductory paragraph detailing their various ailments and I substitute a few cheerful sentences about their current travels (casinos and drives to the coast) and family news.

I miss her everyday and wish we lived closer.

Happy birthday mom.

Pure Poetry

I haven't had time to write this week. Just too much going on. My sweet little girl appears to be the real writer in the family anyway. At the risk of being too cute, I thought I'd share a few poems that my daughter wrote. She wrote these while we were packing up our house and moving to the apartment. She was tired of helping me and decided to write in her journal instead.

What Should I Eat?
Pickles, raspberries, pears and peas
What should I eat?
I look and look and say
Pickles, raspberries, pears and peas
That's what I'll eat.

My Mother's Love
My mother's love could never break
If I did something bad, she would be mad but always love me.
If I did something good, she would be happy and still love me.

My Dad's Love
My dad's love is great.
Nothing could come between us.
Our love is unconditional love
That means nothing can stop it.
It is permanent love.

Our Move
We were very busy and we still are busy
I don't like moving
It is hard
So I say "so long house
I'll miss you"
I hate to say good bye.

Equal Time

Okay. Sarah Palin's husband is pretty darn cute too. He's no Joe Biden but he's a hottie.

Her politics are too conservative for me, but I found her quite charming. It's going to be an exciting race.

Did you notice that all the candidates' spouses are attractive ... although Cindy McCain could use a makeover. How old is she anyway? She needs a fun haircut and some younger clothes. What was that green monstrosity she had on tonight? And what is with that hair color?

Labor Day Weekend

This was the most laborious weekend ever. Please be patient and look for new blogs in a day or two. Big things are happening in my life and I can't wait to share them.
Ciao.

Hunkalicious

Joe Biden gets the nod for VP and I couldn't be happier. To me, Senator Biden is hunkalicious. Forget Obama, forget Bill Clinton, give me Joe. Look at that boyish smile, so crooked and delicious. And at 65 he hasn't let himself go. Normally I would mock hair plugs and bleached teeth but with Joe, it makes me believe he is ready for anything. I long for his hanging chad.

Watch out Mrs. Biden, if Joe comes to AZ, I will make Rielle look like a girl scout.

Laugh at me, but I know as the campaign wears on, the rest of you will see what I see.

Barrack who? My vote goes to Joe.

Back on Track

Leah had her poster ready this morning. Whew. Take that Kara's mom. I also signed her calendar per the teacher's schedule and I even remembered a snack. Her clothes matched AND her library books were securely placed in her backpack.

It was Leah's first day being dropped off. They have a new procedure this year. Parents have to drop off kids. No grown ups on campus. I think it's a good idea but some children (mine) prefer being walked to their room. She hesitated for a moment but then she gave me a sad, little kiss and jumped out of the car.

Later she told me that tears were just ready to come out of her eyes but she kept them inside.

My big girl.

I Give This Day A D Minus

What a day.

First of all I checked my bank account at about 10 this morning and realized that I wrote a $900 check on the wrong account. I've been a bit distracted lately (more on that later) and I paid my VISA bill using the account that was down to $200. I was horrified when I realized my balance was -$700. Why didn't they contact me??? I ran out of our office and headed to the credit union to fix everything. They were so polite. They wondered why I was so upset and why I brought cash to deposit. I said "I didn't think you'd accept a check from me after I just wrote a bad one." Jonathan, the bank teller, calmly said, "Oh this happens all the time -- you wouldn't believe what people do. You have 30 days to get it worked out and we'll even let you make payments." Huh? No wonder the banking industry is in trouble.


As you may remember, we sold our house last week so the parade of paperwork has begun. The real estate supply chain is in high gear. This morning the appraiser was here and this afternoon the home inspector did his thing. But as usual, nothing at Chez Woods is typical. Oh no. As the inspector is checking the laundry room, he notices a drip, drip, drip coming from the ceiling. He immediately calls our realtor and then as he ventures into the attic, he discovers the drip is from the a/c condensation pipe (or something like that.) By the time Lynn gets home the drip has turned into a full-fledged leak and we have to put a bucket under it. The perspective buyers are here witnessing the demise of their new home. We have a repairman coming in the morning but we're afraid the buyers will want to cancel the deal. Would this happen to anyone else?

Onto Curriculum Night at Leah's school. It is the second week of 2nd grade and I was looking forward to hearing her teacher's plans for the year. She seems like a great teacher but all I did the entire time was slink lower and lower into the chair as I realized I have been a negligent mom. Her poster was due today ("What poster", I asked?) Her summer vacation paper was on the wall but it was blank and her "Who I Am" paper was blank as well. Where have I been? God, I felt like the worst mom. Kara's mom was asking question after question about forms and calendars and spelling tests. She took copious notes while I flipped through the handouts to figure out what the heck she was referring to. I hate Kara's mom.

Nickel and Dime Indeed

If you're going to charge me $50 to change my flight when it was your suggestion and the flight has room. And you're going to charge me $15 to check one 30 pound bag. And you're going to charge me $2.00 for a drink of water. Then do you think you can at least make sure the light above my seat works so I can read my book?

Monday Night in the OC

So what do you do on a Monday night in Anaheim? I'm surrounded by Disney with no desire to visit the Magic Kingdon. It wouldn't be right without my daughter. I'm here with my co-worker and he thought this restaurant sounded interesting.

I thought it sounded like a disaster but I'm nothing if not flexible. We walked down Harbor Blvd, turned left at Katella and found Bubba Gump's. Although there were people everywhere -- on benches out in front, standing inside and waiting in the bar, we were immediately seated at the first booth. As the name implies, the place is an homage to Forrest Gump. The table is covered with movie dialogue and Gump paraphenalia covers the walls. The wait staff was very friendly and efficient, even engaging us in Forrest Gump trivia questions.

The table also included license plates as pictured.

You flip over the license plate depending upon whether or not you need service. If it's on blue then it's dinner as usual, if you flip it to the red "Stop Forrest Stop" then a waiter or waitress will stop at your table to find out what you need. The first time, the response was instanteous (for more water) the second time it took just under a minute (for another beer.) I thought it would be hokey, but it was fun. I was heady with power from those metal signs.

Mostly shrimp dishes on the menu with a few other seafood delights and some chicken choices as well. We ordered hush puppies to start which were a big disappointment. No flavor and they were stuffed with corn.

I had Shrimpers Heaven which included 4 kinds of shrimp. Tempura, Fried, Coconut and peel 'n eat. This came with fries and cole slaw (both untouched by me.) The shrimp was actually quite good with the tempura being the best. Each of these cones contained a different type of shrimp.

After dinner it was back to the Fairfield. We walked back passing eager Disney fans both heading toward and leaving the park.

Back to my room to finish packing, make shuttle arrangements and get ready for my last day in the OC. As usual, at 9:30, the folks at Disneyland started their brilliant fireworks show. I'd like to think they were bidding me adieu until my next visit.

Travel

I’ve been traveling a bit lately. Sometimes I like it, sometimes I don’t. When I travel for work, I end up flying by myself which I actually enjoy except for ground travel arrangements. I’m a lazy traveler and I prefer taxis over the more difficult to maneuver public transportation. I’d give trains and subways a chance if I didn’t always have so much luggage.

You may have guessed, I’m a bad packer. I NEVER have the right stuff. I either have too much or not enough. When I was in Charlotte a couple of weeks ago, I was there for 3-1/2 days. I only packed one pair of pants. I was sure I had packed at least 3 but no -- only my black pin-striped pants. I was careful not to spill anything and I changed into my pajamas right away each evening. I had one pair of flimsy sandals and 2 pairs of flip flops. Not good when you’re walking and on your feet a lot.

This week in Anaheim, I have 4 pairs of pants but I have all the wrong shoes again. The Convention Center is nearly a mile away and I limped back with a big blister on my heel. Tomorrow it’s back to taxis.

Hotel rooms. Here’s what I like. Solitude and simplicity. Room Service. Big beds all to myself. Using the sleep timer on the TV. Relaxing wake up calls rather than screaming alarm clocks.

Here’s what I hate. The constant threat of germs left in the wake of other travelers. I can’t stand it when the shower curtain touches my skin. It gave me chills just to type that! I never use the glasses they leave in the room. I buy bottled water. I hate using the phone – I’m sure they never think to sterilize the phone – or the radio or the remote!

Here’s a hint for travel rookies: Don’t leave your toothbrush on the counter. I’m sure they move it around to clean the counter and I bet they touch it right after they’ve cleaned the toilet!!!! (See photo of how I put all toiletries esp. toothbrush in my hanging travel bag when I leave for the day.) I also hate bedspreads although now they are putting sheets on top of the beds which alleviates some of my germaphobia.

And how they tease me with HBO. Look at tonight’s lineup:
8:45 In Focus: Shedding Light On Vampires In America, A Prime-Time Network Exclusive
9:00 Generation Kill Part 5: A Burning Dog
10:15 Russell Simmons' Def Comedy Jam 95
10:45 Russell Simmons' Def Comedy Jam 96

I would never watch these shows. Ever. Okay, I would watch if George Clooney came over and said he wanted to spend the evening with me watching HBO. Then maybe... but he better bring champagne.

WTF

There's something wrong with my blog.

I posted the most amusing info yesterday and it's gone.

Don't despair, I think I can recreate it. There's even a great picture of my posse.

To amuse yourselves in the meantime, just think about me chasing my pink-eyed monster daughter around the house for the past 2-1/2 hours trying to wrangle her so I can administer the eye drops to combat her conjunctivitis.

Or you can think about how I actually just engaged in a drop-down-drag-out girl fight with, Lori, my flex account benefit provider (all via email of course). I'm embarrassed to say that I couldn't quit sarcastically responding to her insane requests for more information (most of which she already had.) Then she mentioned how she had just "met with the girls" in her department to discuss my account. Honestly, she wrote "the girls". That was the last straw. I replied that I was confident "the girls" would discover a solution to the challenge. Then she wrote back a snotty reply and then I did and then she did and then I wrote back something that could be construed as sincere because I thought "hey, I'm the customer, she should be kissing my a** and maybe I should send this to her supervisor who I bet isn't a girl and if I do send it to her Manager, I want my part to at least sound more mature than hers." So take that LORI.

Anyway, please stay tuned for yesterday's tidbit.

Fight Back: The Dog Days of Summer

Here are my picks for things to do/watch/read to overcome the dog days of Summer.

Go see Momma Mia. It's a fun, joyful movie.

Watch Tori and Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood on the Oxygen channel or Flipping Out on Bravo. Both reality shows, both guilty pleasures.

Read Not Quite What I Was Planning. Great, quick read. An entire book of six-word memoirs. Written by the famous and not so famous. Very compelling. Try writing your own.

Read I Was Told There'd Be Cake. Book of essays that reads like a memoir. Funny, funny, funny.

Eat. Now that the tomato scare has passed eat this salad. Tomato, mozzarella, basil, drizzle on olive oil and balsalmic vinegar. Yummy. I could eat this everyday. (I'm sure this salad has a name but it escapes me.)

If all else fails, grab your BFF's, drink champagne and dance on the coffee table.

But It's a Green Heat

Don't ask me why but I went to Whole Foods tonight in search of fried rice. I thought one of their casual dining areas might include this side dish. I also wanted to try the double chocolate cookies that Leah has raved about since her field trip a few weeks ago.

We made a beeline for the bakery (such that it is)and after several misfires, she found the yummy morsels. Then onto the rice. I checked the Asian food center but only sushi. We ended up with frozen rice.

We also got 2 slices of cheese pizza for $6.99/pound. Who sells pizza by the pound? Leah insisted that it's the best. I told the pizza clerk that after a school field trip, my daughter insists on everything from Whole Foods. Then I added "I'll have to get a 2nd job." The Whole Foods employee nodded and said "I was just going to say that", paused and with a much too sincere expression, added "but they do so much for the community." I'm thinking they don't have fried rice because selling rice by the pound would not impact the bottom line as profitably as selling cheese laden pizza crust by weight.

It's 113 degrees today and the store must have been 95 degrees. When I mentioned the balmy interior, the check out guy said "Whole Foods is being environmentally responsible by turning up the thermostat". Right. Call me cynical but I wonder if being green has more to do with saving them several thousand dollars per month on their utility bill than slowing global warming. I only had to swipe my debit card twice as the sweat poured down my face and dripped onto the credit card machine.

Southern Charm

I'm in Charlotte this week on a business trip. This sculpture stands at the main entrance of my hotel. I think it's quite beautiful.

I don't believe I've ever been to Charlotte. It makes me a little sad that I can't remember if I've visited before. I'm positive I've been to North Carolina twice I just can't remember if I've visited Raleigh twice or Raleigh once and Charlotte once.

Everyone is very friendly here but no one (no one!) has a southern accent.

My cab driver was from Eastern Africa. He had a very thick accent and asked my advice on how to improve his English (which I thought was quite good.) Because I'm a typical American, I said "watch more tv." He just became a U.S. citizen after living here for 11 years. He is looking forward to voting in his first presidential election this fall. He did not reveal his candidate of choice. He did tell me that his 4 year old son is named Raymond and his 16 month old son is Dylan. He explained that it is important to him to name them typical American names! More than once he said how lucky he is to live here. He is a recent graduate of an XRay technician program and he's hoping to find work in the field.

The guy who delivered my room service told me that he is working on his Ph.D. in Family Medical Therapy. He attends UNC, Chapel Hill. Not a single "Y'all" was spoken by him. Turns out he's from Long Island. He informed me that everyone in Charlotte is from somewhere else.

Okay, now to the negative side of Charlotte. I started the day with cute hair and a heart full of hope but both fell flat in the heavy, sticky air. And everyone said "you're from Arizona? You must be used to this weather." No. No we're not. Our heat is oppressive and the expression blast furnace is quite accurate but we use air conditioners and once you are in an air conditioned building, you live life. You do not continue to feel sweat running over every part of your body, gluing your clothes to your back and arms and legs. You don't have to reapply makeup every 2 hours and you most certainly can fluff your hair back into place with a hand comb and a few well placed spritzes of hair spray.

On the upside, I did not have to remember how to get back to my hotel, I just followed my sweat droplets all the way home.

Now It's Personal

I used to fly to Eugene roundtrip for about $200. Not a bad price and the schedule was great. Leave mid morning, return late afternoon. This past year, the price increased and I paid about $340 but still had a great schedule.

I just checked rates to fly home in October and guess what? For $813 and a schedule determined by U.S. Airways, I can go to Eugene.

So I suppose I'll fly into Portland and rent a car so that I don't have to bother my parents to drive back and forth. The airfare will be around the same as what I used to pay to Eugene but with an additional $250 for the rental car.

I don't get it. No one is going to pay $800 to fly to Eugene so won't all the seats be empty? Won't they have to cancel flights? Maybe that's the plan.

Who Knew?

Or maybe I did know. I just finished reading the aforementioned book "An American Gladiator in Rome" which was written by a guy I went to high school with. I always knew my graduating class was above average but who knew it was verging on genius.

This is a very good book. And I'm not saying that because I grew up with the author. It really is good. It is a Y chromosome version of "Eat, Pray, Love" and if the truth be known, a more lively and entertaining version as well. John has done a great job of bringing us into Rome through the eyes of a well-traveled guy from Eugene, Oregon. He tells us about struggling to learn the language and finally succeeding by using a hybrid teaching method. He has great insights into the culture of Rome and the benefits of the healthy Italian lifestyle. I was particularly interested in his insight about Italian men and their dependence on their mothers -- it's not as pathetic as it sounds. The anemic Italian economy almost dictates living at home.

John's girlfriend, Nancy, went with him to Rome and the snippets from their relationship are quite interesting. I would have liked to hear more about Nancy in particular what she looks like. Mostly John regaled us with descriptions of her perfect body which was a tad irritating to this middle-aged mom! I don't recall reading anything about her eyes or even hair color although I may have missed it. But I think this may be true to the male observer. Body first, hair and eye color later!

I hope someone options this book for a movie. Since George Clooney summers in Italy, I think he'd be crazy not to grab this story. I don't see him in the role of John only because the John-character needs to have a fair complexion. As I read the story, I definitely pictured John because I know him but I think someone like Aaron Ekhardt would be perfect. Whoever it is has to fit John's 6'3" frame. If I had a better description of Nancy it would be easier to cast but for now I'm seeing Jennifer Connolly. Assuming there are flashbacks to Eugene circa 1974, Jessica Alba can play the nice, smart yet insecure (2nd tier) friend who ended up in Arizona!

Give 'Em the Axe

A guy I went to high school with wrote a book. I just got it from Amazon. An American Gladiator In Rome. I'm not sure, but I think it's the guy's version of Eat, Pray, Love. Evidently he took a leave of absence from his sportswriter job at the Denver Post and moved to Italy where it says he "found truth about work, love and life."

Apparently it's impossible to find these truths in the good old U.S. of A.

I'm very excited that a fellow Axeman from South Eugene High School has written a book. His picture is on the back and there's no mistaking him, it's John Henderson. The forehead is a tad more spacious but otherwise, he looks the same...exactly the same.

Go Axemen.

Only Me

So today I had an appointment with my counselor. I started seeing her about 1-1/2 years ago when I was having trouble at work. I hated my job and I wanted someone to tell me that I should quit and find something else to do.

I don't tell everyone that I'm seeing a counselor. Only close friends. I don't want anyone to think I'm crazy or anything.

I sat in the waiting room for a few minutes before my appointment and out she walks with her client. A woman from my office. Sweet.

Nurse Leah

Tonight in the shower, I cut my leg shaving. For some reason it would not quit bleeding. Leah came into the bathroom and started handing me kleenexes and bandaids. She was quite concerned -- in fact she couldn't keep her eyes off of my wound.
I got on the bed and held my leg in the air thinking that would help. At that point it had been bleeding for 15 minutes. Leah came in with a glass of water and a board game called HISSSSSSS. She insisted that I take a drink and she fluffed my pillow.
She sat next to me in her High School Musical nightgown and asked if I was okay. Then she sighed and said "I know. How 'bout some cheese?"

4th of July

At Sea World.

As we boarded the Trip to Atlantis ride, the Sea World employee said "Hi Grandpa" to Lynn and Leah as they took the first car. I however, heard no comments about being Leah's grandma. Score one for me.

The Accidental Marketer

When I selected the name for my blog, I thought it was just a clever way to describe who I am. The old mom. At least 10 years older than the oldest mom in Leah's class.
But in doing some blog surfing, I realized that my name was a good choice because I end up at the beginning of many lists by virtue of my double a's.
I love it when I stumble on a good idea.

Second Grade Theology

I don’t know what they were teaching at Vacation Bible School last week but this morning Leah was talking about heaven. She said that in heaven you can get whatever you want for free.

She dreamily described how they would have all the WebKinz lined up and you could pick whichever one you wanted. After that you could go to the ice cream section and select your flavor. I was smiling at her heavenly fantasy, wishing that these conversations would last into her teen-age years.

She continued and said in devil heaven you have to pay $1,000 for whatever you want. What??!!!! Devil heaven?

We attend a Methodist church. A very liberal Methodist church that even includes a gay and lesbian group. We do not attend a fire and brimstone, Tammy Faye Bakker fundamentalist church. I am afraid to ask her what merits a trip to devil heaven.

Bulletin

Some people have emailed to tell me that can't figure out how to post comments. I think I've fixed everything so that anyone can comment. To get to the comment section you just click on the heading of the post and follow the prommpts. If I followed the instructions properly, anyone should be able to comment even if you don't have a google account -- I think.
So please feel free to comment.
Also, I've added a few things so that now you can follow me on Twitter and you can see some of my favorite blogs. You can also use the buttons on the upper right side to subscribe to my blog.
I'm working on a new post right now.

Joie de Vivre

My favorite people are those who embrace life and find joy in both the big things and the little things. I love people who are curious and who have enthusiasm and a good sense of humor. I mention this because I just found out that one of my old friends who epitomizes all these things has died.


Twenty eight years ago, my boyfriend, Al Bergsten, had joie de vivre. He inhaled life like it was a sweet perfume. Last night as I sheepishly googled him -- Beware! I Google everyone I've ever known -- I found his obituary. To say I was stunned is mild.



After we broke up, he'd call or stop by every now and then, but once I found Lynn the calls stopped and that was that. Every few years I'd think about him and wonder how he was. I'd think about calling him but I never did. Oh how I wish I had.



I think he is the most intelligent person I've ever known. He was always reading and his vocabulary was intimidating. He introduced me to Meatloaf's Paradise by the Dashboard Light which to this day, is one of my favorite songs. He made the best green chili burros and he thought I was sexy (at least for a little while!) Although he was 6'3" he was very approachable and strangers always talked to him. He had sandy brown hair and a full beard and I loved the David Letterman-like space between his front teeth. He was very loud but not in a bad way. It was in a way that drew you in.



He was the first guy I ever loved and he's the first guy who ever said those words to me (for the record, he said it first!) Our relationship was short-lived but thoroughly intense. Oh, he broke my heart into a million pieces and I hated him for a few months, but after that we became friends and our relationship was honest and sweet (booty calls notwithstanding).



Of particularly sad irony is that his wife died about 6 months before he did. Her obituary notes that Al treated her like a queen. I'm so glad he found someone who made him happy. He died about two weeks after his 57th birthday. His death in December and his wife's in May -- I've got to think that he died of a broken heart.


And last night my heart broke a little bit too.


So here's to you my old friend. I will never forget you.

Call Me Ishmael

I hate to obsess about the scorpion thing. But it's Friday night, 5 days after I first saw the poisonous bug. I've looked for him every night in the garage, the laundry room, the hallway... but alas, he has evaded the deadly snap of my flip flop.

So it's 11:00 p.m. and I'm reading The Last Wife of Henry VIII (I'm drawn to all things English since I crossed the pond last spring) when something catches my eye. I glance up and there he is. Three feet away from me on the tile. My white whale.

Would someone explain to me why he is scurrying full speed ahead in a diagonal line across the family room headed straight for me? With all the places to hide and explore, why is he aiming for me? It's not my imagination, I was definitely in his sights.

So mustering all of my strength, I stand and take a step closer to make sure it's the guy from the other night. I remove my stylish black flip flop with the silver charms and move in for the kill. Just as I do, he freezes. Oh, like I won't see him. Then, with just a little too much force, WHAM, I smash that little *&#$^. He actually split in two pieces.

Hmmm, who's scared now?

I must admit my eyes never left the carcass as I grabbed the paper towel to unceremoniously dispose of him. No autopsy needed. Unnatural causes. Justifiable homicide.

One More Thing To Worry About

You know I hate to be one of those people who complains about everything but there are some things about living in Arizona that are intolerable.

Scorpions. Is there another state where you have to worry about poisonous bugs entering your house? They can be fatal to the very young and the very old. And yes, there are times when that demographic inhabits my house.

Tonight I went to the garage to get some bottled water. Luckily I turned on the light and looked down before I put my bare foot on the concrete. The little light brown bugger froze just as I did. Lynn was still up, so armed with my blue sequined flip flop, he slowly tip-toed into the garage. Just as we opened the door, the scorpion scurried under my tire. We tried to flush him out with our bottled Arrowhead but he didn't budge. So I made Leah move into our bed (she sometimes wanders in during the night) because I don't want her stepping on him. It's not worth it. Putting up with a family bed is more tolerable than the threat of a scorpion sting.

We made the mistake of having our palm tree skinned this weekend and that brings out the bugs. Oftentimes they make their homes in the bark of the palm so when you have it trimmed, it displaces them. This particular kind is aptly called the Bark Scorpion.

Now I keep feeling him crawl up my leg. I hate being so afraid of a little bug.

Perhaps our next house will be scorpion-free.

Enough

If I hear one more person say they are having a staycation this summer, I will scream.

It was mildly amusing a few months ago when I first heard it. And it gave me pause as we contemplated our fuel costs and other inflation, but now it's just annoying and no longer clever.

It almost makes me want to take a bunch of vacations away from home that I really can't afford.

Chapter Two

I’ve been in Eugene, Oregon for the past few days. We’re here attending my brother, Bruce’s retirement party. After 30+ years in education, he is retiring from the Springfield School District where he is the Director of Curriculum. (Please note that after he leaves it will take two people to replace him!) In our country, the educational arena can be very political and often focuses on test scores rather than learning, but my brother has a reputation for building relationships and always putting the needs of the kids first. I’m very proud of him.

Despite the childhood teasing and adolescent cruelty, I have always known that my big brother is a good guy. If you ask me to describe growing up with a brother six years my senior, I will say “it was the best of times and the worst of times.” He teased me, got me to believe unbelievable stories and tormented me (including when he and his friend Brad put my beloved Barbie and Ken in compromising positions that I did not understand but that I instinctively knew were wrong!) Through all the situations, he kept me on my toes and he always, ALWAYS made me laugh.

The biggest surprise of the party was the moment my brother — who only reveals himself during rare unguarded moments and never in front of 100 people — transformed into Mr. Sentimental. He asked his long-time assistant, Amy, to join him on stage. Amy has been with him at the District for 17 years. She has kept him on track and been fiercely loyal. Amy reluctantly took the stage, leaving at least five feet between them. Bruce not only dedicated a song to her but he sang the first verse. His choice? “Thanks for the Memories,” Bob Hope’s signature song. Who knew??? Who knew my sarcastic, restrained brother had it in him? I’m sure I will never forget that moment of sweetness and admiration and I venture to guess that neither shall Amy.

There is a line in the verse that goes “You were always a headache, but never a bore.” I know he meant it as a fun-loving tribute to Amy but I couldn’t help think that it perfectly described our childhood when I dreaded his ridicule but anticipated the inevitable amusing payoff.

So congratulations to my hardworking brother. I hope the next chapter of your life is filled with fun and travel and plenty of new, wonderful memories.

GRA8FUL

You'd think I'd learn. Another Starbucks mis-judgement.
Again this morning I needed a venti green iced tea. Again, I'm in a hurry. A thirtysomething blond, wearing fashionable reflecting sunglasses arrived at the drivethru at the same time as me. We each hesitated but I let her go ahead feeling a little intimidated by her shiny white Range Rover and the fluffy brown designer dog perched on her lap. As she turned into the driveway I saw that she was on the phone probably chatting with her perfect husband or perfect sister or her stock broker. Why did I let her go ahead of me when she probably didn't work and I have a full-time job and am so obviously more deserving of a beverage jumpstart? I pulled in behind her and immediately felt ashamed.
Again.
Her vanity license plate had the image of a pink ribbon next to the word GRA8FUL. The plate was outlined with a chrome cancer survivor frame. Yes, I had just harshly judged someone who had faced death and won. She had cancer yet professes her gratitude. She probably embraces each day savoring any chance for mundane things like grabbing a quick drink at Starbucks.
I felt like a jerk.
Again.

Morning Duty

I am the lucky parent who has the job of getting Leah ready for school. I think I'm being objective when I say it's worse than being the parent who 1) picks her up from school or 2) puts her to bed.

We always rush to get ready arguing about syrup, cartoon choice, and which toy gets to go to school.

We have never been late on my watch!!!! During our conflicts, sometimes we raise our voices.

The other morning, as we faced off in her bathroom, I waited while she finished brushing, combing, washing and finally I asked her to find some shoes. She spun around looked at me and spat:

"Y O U
L I T T L E

(...I waited for the bad word, not imagining she knew any but they pick up a lot of bad habits in the first grade...)

W O M A N".

Hardly the insult I had anticipated. I laughed. She scowled and off we went to school.

Global Warming Takes A Holiday

Don't get me wrong, I absolutely believe that global warming is a real threat to our planet. But this weekend the gods of summer are shining down on us. The Valley of the Sun lives up to its name but the temperature is unseasonably pleasant.

The high yesterday was 84 degrees. On Memorial weekend we expect at least 103 degrees with the low near 84. Next weekend it will be back up to 100+ but for now we bask in the splendor that is mild weather worthy of a northern state's summer.

I have proof of this phenomenon. See this picture of Leah? Her skin is actually touching the swing set. During a typical year from May through October, children cannot touch metal at the risk of 3rd degree burns but there she is playing like a kid in Oregon or Minnesota or New Hampshire or California.

Tangled Web

User Name ________
Password__________

Does anyone else have trouble managing all of your passwords and user names for the various web sites you visit and subscribe to? Drives me crazy. I need a method to keep track of them. I used to have one universal user name and password but then the web sites started having more rules: mixture of letters and symbols, minimum length, etc. THEN some e-master decided you need to change your password every few months. As if I don't have enough to keep track of...

Now it's also complicated by the fact that Leah is on Webkinz and Club Penguin and a plethora of other web sites and I have to try and remember her user names and passwords.

And how about those sites with the squiggly, scrambled letters that you have to retype or they won't let you in? Sometimes I cannot tell if the letters are uppercase or lowercase or if it's an "l" or a "1". And I'm sure that the twentysomethings that invented this new level of security are feeling so smug when I type it in wrong and they reject my post.

Too Much Honesty

I bent over to fasten the velcro on my walking shoes. Leah came up behind me, patted my bottom like a drum and said "Mommy your booty is so nice and smooth when you bend over." I said "thank you." She continued "See, your booty only jiggles and wiggles when you stand up or walk."

Random Acts

Yesterday I stopped at Starbucks for my favorite Venti green iced tea -- unsweetened. I love to get one on my way to work but I can't afford to get one everyday. I treated myself because someone had given me a Starbucks giftcard. I went through the drive-thru, placed my order and waited. I watched the woman ahead of me in a big grey Chrysler. Her excessively tanned arm had about 6 inches of gold bangle bracelets. I thought she looked kind of cheap and I smirked a little at her bad taste. Finally my turn at the window and I happily handed my giftcard to the server. She smiled and said "the woman ahead of you bought your iced tea." I said "did she know me?" "No, she just wanted to buy your drink and she gave us a big tip."

I felt really guilty about judging her bracelets so harshly.

At Last

My dear friend Berta became Mrs. Peter Jennings last night (no, not that one, this one is alive and well and the luckiest guy on Earth.)

Berta is the most balanced, pragmatic, energetic and happy person I know. You've heard of WWJD (what would Jesus do?) Well, I always say WWBD (what would Berta do.) She is who I talk to when I need advice. She is a great listener and she can get to the heart of any issue and clear it up in a simple, positive and successful way.

Berta waited a long time to get married and in true Berta fashion she waited until she found her perfect guy. I don't know him at all (only through Berta) but I can tell he is kind, honorable, focused and as I mentioned before -- lucky.

So, here's to my friend Berta and her new husband, Pete. I wish you decades of happiness and (with a nod to Vy -- mother of the bride) a house full of Jennings.

Scenes From the Airport

Last Thursday I flew US Air out of Sky Harbor for St. Louis for a business trip. I waited at gate A12 for my zone to be called when I noticed a woman crying. Close to my age, she was blond, medium build in denim capris and a red hoodie that matched the rims of her eyes. It’s unusual to see people crying at the gate since only ticketholders are allowed. Now good byes take place before the security line and most folks are composed and collected by the time they reach the gate. I was curious about her tears. Was she crying over someone she left behind at the escalator? Was she on her way to a funeral? To see a dying relative? I followed her eyes to a young man perhaps 19 with short cropped light hair, camouflage jacket and duffle bag. The look of a new recruit.


They took his boarding pass and he started toward the jetway. And then I saw his dad. A short man, stocky, probably a wrestler in high school. He refused to surrender the tears brimming his eyes. Their son turned and waved. In contrast to his parents, he wore a lopsided grin and was oblivious to the anguish swimming in the waiting area. Mom and dad were already holding each other in a tight cocoon and missed his wave. They silently began their walk back through the terminal and the dad reached over and put his arm around the mom.

I have a theory that it’s inevitable your children will break your heart. I knew I had just witnessed my theory in practice. Their sweet little boy had made a decision that will break his mother’s heart beyond anything I can imagine.

Right before Mothers Day it seems appropriate to pay tribute to all the mom's out there who have left their kids at the airport. I hope they hear from their kids on Sunday.

(BTW, if you'd like to help any of the soliders, visit this web site to see what you can do to help them be a little more comfortable http://www.anysoldier.com/index.cfm.)

Venus Mars

I came home to this contraption. Lynn rigged an extension ladder to the swing set resting it on a step ladder, creating white trash monkey bars. At its highest point, the monkey bars were about 6 feet off the ground. The other end was relatively low but Leah climbed the step ladder making her eye to eye with the edge of the roof... which she clutched. Fabulous. Neither one of them understood why I didn't share their glee.
I'm no engineer but what's preventing the extension ladder from "extending" as she swung from rung to rung either catching her hand and shaving her skin leaving a bloody appendage or simply severing her entire hand?
I'm going to St. Louis for a week. Will someone check on them for me?

Like a Knife

Once a month I get to help out in Leah's first grade class. It's very fulfilling. I get to experience all the joys of being a teacher and none of the headaches. Last year when I helped out the kids would ask if I was Leah's grandma. That hasn't happened so far this year -- must be the vitamins.

There's a little boy, Julian, who epitomizes "snips and snails and puppy dog tails". He's very often already in trouble in the morning when I get there. You can't help but be charmed by him and his eyes that dance with mischief.

This morning I asked him what he wants to be when he grows up and he said "A basketball player and a policeman." I said "like Shaq?" He nodded in agreement and grinned with pride. I asked him if he'd please get tickets for me because I'd like to see him play when he is famous. Before he could answer, his friend Colt looked at me and said "you'll be dead by then."

Mother's Little Helper

Does anyone else take this many vitamins? I guess they aren't all vitamins. Some are herbal supplements.

So far I take a multiple vitamin, red yeast rice for cholesterol, glucosamine for my wobbly knees, black currant seed oil for my hair and nails, omega 3 for my heart, B complex for energy and some kind of herbal supplement for my eyes. Oh and a baby aspirin for heart health.

I wonder if they really do anything. I seem to feel better when I take them consistently and I swear my hair grows faster and my joints are stronger. What would I have to eat in order to get the same nutritional benefits? Pounds of vegetables? Plates of legumes and fruit? I don't suppose the M&Ms I ate this afternoon were laced with nutrients.

My Hiatus Is Over

I'm back. I hope you've missed me. I've missed blogging. Too much going on but I think things are back to normal. My parents went back home (I miss them terribly), I still haven't done our taxes and our house is still on the market.

You know, before Leah was born, I was the loniest girl in the world. Lynn was always hanging out with his friends going here and there and I spent most weekends alone. My friends were knee deep in child rearing with little time to just hang out. I saw lots of movies, read lots of books and worked many hours. Oh how things have changed.

Today started out as a great day. Puttered around the house all morning, de-cluttered, cleaned and did laundry. I was in my pajamas until 11:00!!!

Leah was invited to a birthday party this afternoon. I have been looking forward to it for 2 weeks. It was my chance to have nearly 3 hours to myself at home. I was so anxious in fact that I RSVP'd twice. The party was at 2:00. At 1:00 a realtor called to say she was bringing by a client to look at our house -- between 2:00 and 3:30. My disappointment manifested itself by yelling at my husband. Don't get me wrong, I want to sell our house but I NEVER get to be alone.

I rearranged my day. Went to Trader Joes (and for once remembered my shopping bag.) Then went to Safeway to buy the bulk of things. Finished at 3:00 so I went to Starbucks, ordered a refreshing iced tea and sat on the patio pretending to be a carefree middle-aged woman with nothing but time on her hands. Headed home which left 40 minutes of "ME" time. The best laid plans. After I put away groceries I had 20 minutes to peruse my new Oprah magazine.



My family is in bed and I have some time to myself but it's 10:30 and I really don't have anything solitary to do. It's too late to start a movie and I'm not working on a book right now. I did finish a project but I can't talk about it because it's a gift and the recipient might be tuning in --- more on that in early May.

As you may have guessed -- I haven't been lonely in 7 years.

Blogstipation

It's been a month since I've blogged. Too much going on.

Our house is for sale. We're either very smart or very dumb.

My parents arrived on Friday. They will be here for 3 weeks. Leah is basking in grandparent adoration.

I still haven't done our taxes.

I have many pictures to post and many stories to tell but you'll have to stayed tuned.

2001 Was A Very Good Year

Happy 7th Birthday To My Sweet Girl

The greatest thing she ever said to me, "You're not the best mom, but you're the best mom for me."

Shout Out to Shelley

Happy Birthday Shelley.

My brother's wife. My sister in law. Leah's aunt.

I won't tell you how old Shelley is today but she looks at least 10 years younger than her real age. Shelley married my brother about 20 years ago and I was so glad that he finally found happiness. They are a good match.

Shelley is an excellent mom -- in fact one of my role models for motherhood. She was basically done raising her daughter by the time mine came along but I took notes all along.

Shelley never yelled (a trait I've yet to master). She was always calm and honest with Amanda. And even during the teen age years, Shelley always had a sense of humor. Shelley is a wonderful aunt to Leah -- her biggest contribution may be that she has influenced Leah's education. For every holiday and birthday, she sends Leah the best books and reads with her whenever they are together. It's no coincidence that Leah is an excellent reader.

So Happy Birthday Shelley. We're so lucky to have you in our family.

(Photo from left to right: My mom, Shelley, Amanda, Lynn. I scanned the photo so it looks a little grainy.)

Psychological Warfare or Just Kids Being Kids?

Yesterday we hosted 3 girls for Leah’s 7th birthday party. (Dylan, Maria and Melanie – names changed to blah, blah, blah.) Leah decided on a puppy theme. We had 3 games planned, plus 2 small crafts. Then cake, ice cream and opening gifts – it sounded like an afternoon of fun. I was feeling like mother superior with my stellar planning.

The party started at 2:30 and five meltdowns later, the party was over.


Nothing went as planned. I couldn’t get the 4 girls to agree to do anything at the same time. When Leah wanted to do the piñata, the other girls wanted to do crafts. Then Leah pouted because she didn’t get to go first on every game. During the piñata activity, Leah actually laid on the patio in the fetal position.

HIGHLIGHTS
-One child wanted to spend the afternoon alone in the backyard
-Another child got mad because the others were having too much fun
-In our haste to distract them we not only forgot the candles on the cake, but didn’t sing Happy Birthday.
-The only “game” they would play together was when I put on rock music and they pretended to be models prancing down the catwalk.




I suggested to my husband that there must be a hidden camera somewhere because there was no way what was happening was REAL.


HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO WHO?
The last straw was when the girls divided into 2 camps. Half wanted to play with Leah’s Littlest Pet Shop and the other half wanted to dance. My husband and I thought the only way out was to suggest cake and ice cream. Desperate to unify them through sugar, we forgot to light the candles or sing Happy Birthday. With half the cake missing, we quickly added the seven candles and asked the girls to gather around to sing. Maria refused to come back inside and Dylan felt she needed to stay next to Maria. Leah ran into our bedroom crying which left Melanie, my husband and I singing Happy Birthday to an invisible birthday girl. Defeated, I blew out the candles! (My wish was not granted because the party continued.)



Finally, the heavens shone down on us and the parents arrived to retrieve their progeny. Wouldn’t you know it, the girls could not be coaxed out of Leah’s room because they were having so much fun. Their parents wondered how I could put up with the 4 screaming girls and I reassured them that the amped up squeals of happiness were 1,000 times better than the earlier tantrums.

HINDSIGHT IS 20/20
Twenty four hours have passed since we were held hostage by 4 first graders and I’ve had time to reflect. Here’s what I learned. I tried too hard to keep the guest list manageable. We originally invited 5 girls and only 3 came. In hindsight I would have invited eight in the hopes that 5 would show up. In this case having more personalities would have been easier. I think I could have had an easier time dividing and conquering with a few more (weak) personalities. Once I realized the group was small, I should have let the party evolve into more of a glorified play date. I think an organic approach would have been more successful.