What Do You Want To be When You Grown Up?

A couple of things have prompted this blog. My "baby" is entering Kindergarten this fall. Meaning both of my kids will now be in school full-time. As much as I have enjoyed my 5 years of naps and bon bons, it looks like it may be time for me to - dare I say it? - go back to work.

I don't really want to go back to work. And luckily for me, the current economic climate isn't exactly the best for job hunting. (yipee!) Then there's the challenge of finding something that is flexible enough for your family responsibilities, but still pays you enough to be worth your while.

And really...what DO I want to be when I grow up? I don't know. Do you remember that scene in "The Jungle Book" (the original one - not the sucky sequal with John Goodman as Baloo...) The part where the vultures are on the branches having a discussion. "Whatcha wanna do?" "I dunno, whatYOU wanna do?" Well, it's a little like that. I don't know. The one job I really loved required nights, weekends, and holidays, and really wouldn't even pay for my gas to get there and back.

You may be thinking to yourself "Ummm - newsflash sweetie, but you ARE grown up!" I guess I don't think of myself that way. Bart has a few of his friend's parents as Friends on his Facebook. I don't accept parents. Why? "Because I don't want any grown-ups on my Facebook account!" (Congratulations. All of you who read this and are friends on my Facebook account - you've just been demoted from "grown up" to "over-aged juvenile.")

Maybe that's why I like Disney World so much. You're not allowed to do anything but have fun there. Maybe that's why I'm recently obsessed with a quartet of books intended for college kids. Maybe that's why I have been known - in my adult life, even - to drink like a fish.

I am obviously going to have a REALLY hard time turning 40, which is in about 1 year and 2 months. UGH. So what AM I going to do?

Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? (Ah - yet another indicator of my advancing years - the Ferris Beuller joke...)

I Done Good

OK. This has been a crazy week. Make that month. My 7 year old daughter is losing teeth faster than I can page the tooth fairy to get her butt over here. My "baby" boy turned 5 this week. F-I-V-E. I turned down a job. I - potentially - lined up an opportunity for another one. I threw a birthday party that included a large group of 5 and 6 year old boys beating each other with Lightsabers. Crazy month.

But I done good. (Please note the sarcasm is that statement - I know it's not grammatically correct...) Those of you who know me well know that, well, I'm a little bit of a control freak. And I don't handle stress well. And I'm a disaster zone in the kitchen. So a birthday party where I have to keep kids occupied, execute games, and provide food, all while trying to keep anyone from bleeding or having to go to the hospital...well, that's enough to put me right over the edge.

It started with the Lightsaber Pretzel Sticks. I went online (mistake #1) to find ideas for the party. One idea seemed cool, and simple enough: you dip large pretzel sticks on white chocolate (tinted green or blue), and make "lightsabers." You wrap a little bit of aluminum foil around the handle and - voila! Edible lightsabers! So I bought all the supplies and went to work. Batch #1 was melted in the microwave, per the instructions of the box of white chocolate. It sort-of melted, but was really clumpy. The lightsabers looked more like green caveman clubs. Batch #1 was done double-boiler style. (I had had success with this making buckeyes at Christmas.) You get a pot of boiling water, and put another pot on top. The top pot holds the chocolate. This batch never melted at all - just clumped up, and then burned. Batch #3 was done straight-up in a single pot, low temperature. on the oven. Burned, burned, burned.

NORMALLY this would send me into fits. But yesterday? I said "OK, we're just going to have plain pretzel sticks." And then I cleaned up the mess. I'm fairly certain Bart thought I was running a high fever or something.

Then - during the party - it was time for a game. But the kids all said "We don't wanna game! We want to lightsaber fight some more!" Is that mutiny in the ranks? What about my SCHEDULE??? Again, normally I would have freaked out. But I didn't. I let them play for a bit, and then suggested we do a "Jedi Test" (also known as a "game".) Smoooooooooooth sailing.

The pizza arrived 45 minuted early. Did I freak? No way Jose - I just put the boxes in the oven. (The oven was turned off, in order to avoid a repeat of an ill-fated moving day way back in 1999.)

We didn't even get to the final game, and we didn't get to open the presents. Hysterics? Nope. We just opened the presents later (which I prefer anyway), and now we have a fun little space-like water bottle filled with candy. (I'll probably bring this up to the school or something.)

I never remembered to put out the fruit that I had my sister bring with her. 4 kids didn't show. I didn't get a chance to put balloons on the lamp posts in the neighborhood. The glow necklaces didn't work 100% perfectly. I didn't get a chance to blow dry my hair out all pretty - had to go with a ponytail instead. I forgot to put out the glow straws when we handed out drinks. I ordered too much pizza. I wanted to touch up the paint in the foyer. I didn't get around to really cleaning up the backyard.

So I just let it go. Let. It. Go. Those of of you who know me well KNOW what a huge, gigantic, enormous step this was for me. I put on a party - at my house - and didn't lose it a single time during the day. Not once.

And you know what? CHASE HAD A GREAT TIME. I think all the kids had a great time. So we'll be eating pizza for 3 days - we like pizza. The glow necklaces worked good enough. I put the glow straws in the goodie bags. Everyone found the house without balloons on the lamp posts. We had plenty of kids in attendance. No one looked at my hair. The foyer and the yard were non-issues.

I let it go - it wasn't perfect, but it was good. So I won't be the talk of the class for throwing the "Best Birthday Party Ever". And newsflash: my house is NOT a showroom. And I like to wear ponytails. I won't even see most for these people ever again after Pre-school anyway. Perfection is over-rated anyway, right?

I think as Moms, we get so wrapped up in doing it all "perfectly." Like our kid will be scarred for life if Darth Vader himself doesn't show up at the party. How much do you remember from your 5th birthday? If anything, you're probably like me - you remember cake and friends. Don't remember where it was, do you? Or what you did? Or even who was there? Me neither. I guess I'm trying to make a point in here somewhere, something other than "I didn't lose my mind yesterday." Let. It. Go. It's not perfect, but it's good enough. Most everything is.

My son can look back, look at the 65 pictures I took, and say "Hey Mom, you remember when we had that cool Star Wars party for my birthday?" And I will.

(And thank God - no more birthday parties until June!)

Hey Al Gore....

Hey Al Gore: It was 27 degrees here in Tampa last night. Where in the hell is your "Global Warming?"

Wow. What A Crappy Week.

OK, so the week started out with a Mom Drama that I won't even go into. Let's just say my Mom is creating unnecessary drama about something that no one (but her) remembers. When I didn't jump through the hoops like a good little doggy, she wielded my dead father like a weapon and insulted the hell out of me. Needless to say, we are no longer on speaking terms. Which sucks, because Chase's birthday is in a little over 3 weeks. How exactly am I supposed to explain that Granny is a nutcase, and that proving her point comes first with her?

And when you have a relative that is generally destructive in her relationships, how do you explain that to your kids? How do you shield them from it? I wish so much that my Mom would realize that the kids come first, but she just doesn't get it. She would rather lose her only grand kids than let whatever it is she's so upset at slide. How do I explain that to the kids?

Then, the next in the crapfest. I am doing the Iron Distance Challenge for the 3rd year in a row. (You have 31 days - January - to bike 112 miles, run/walk 26.2 miles, and swim 2.4 miles.) So I'm working out like a fiend, and doing weight watchers too. Guess how much weight I lost this week? .2 pounds. No - not "two" pounds..."two-tenths" of a pound. That's about a dixie cup of water, right? How is that possible? How is it that you do everything right (and then some), but don't get any progress? And it's not like it was just a bad week. I've only lost 2.6 pounds THE WHOLE ENTIRE MONTH. Ironically, the week of my biggest loss (1.6 pounds), I went and pigged out on Outback. Cheese fries, beer, steak - you get the idea. It's really, really, really discouraging. Even that book by Jen Lancaster -"Such A Pretty Fat" - doesn't get it. It's so much easier to suffer - through the dieting, through the workouts, whatever - if you get results. But what about when you get nothing? And everyone else at the stupid meeting is losing like 3,4,5 pounds a week? This is why I was sitting in the Weight Watcher parking lot, crying and eating my free sample of "Whole Grain Crispies". (Which, by the way, taste exactly like lightly salted dirt.)

So you thought CrapFest 2009 was over? No way! Then comes the Horseback Riding. Karlin loves horses. No - Karlin LOVES horses. Always has. She had been doing some very lightweight, introductory riding with Ms. Sue for about 2 1/2 years. Then Ms. Sue let me know that Karlin had learned about all she could learn from her - it was time for proper riding lessons. OK. So we checked it out, and found a great place (Ms. Sue recommended it), and signed her up. $40 a lesson. Bart balked. I justified it by saying that we've tried everything, and this is the only thing she really loves. Gymnastics? She hated it (but loved to wear the leotards.) Dance? Hated that too. Soccer? Ditto. (Although it was always cute to see her daydreaming in the middle of a field full of frenzied 5 and 6 year olds...) So OK - Bart said yes, and we were off to the races (excuse the horse pun...) We bought her her first "real" riding helmet for her birthday. Then she needed boots (which I practically stole off of Ebay brand new.) Then she needed riding pants (Consignment) and gloves (Consignment.) So far so good. She's been riding for 5 months and is doing great. Each lesson lasts for about an hour and a half. She spends about 20 minutes helping to groom and tack the horse. Then she gets a 40 minute lesson. Then she spends another 20 minutes or so untacking and grooming and watering the horse. She's been loving it, although I do think it's been more physical exertion than she was betting on.

So a few weeks back I find out that there's going to be a Horse Show at the Barn where she takes her lessons. Her instructor said that she's ready for one of the beginner classes - "Lead Line Walk/Trot." OK - cool. Karlin wants to do it. Great. Then I find out that there's a specific uniform requirement for shows. You can't wear riding pants - they have to be Jodphurs. With straps that go under the boot. And she has to have a white shirt, but it can't be a regular white shirt. It is a tailored long-sleeved white shirt with tailored, fitted arms. Then she has to have a vest - black with colors on the front. And then a tie (usually to match the vest.) Most people buy helmet covers too, to coordinate with the vest. Their hair has to be in a bun, secured by a barrette (usually a barrette that coordinates with the vest.) The hair is held under the helmet with hair nets. Oh - and they're supposed to wear make-up too. Now, anyone who knows Bart could probably hear the tires screeching at the words "make-up." But that is the least of our problems. The "standard" riding outfit runs about $325, with custom riding suits (3 shirts, 3 pants, 2 vests, 1 jacket, etc.) around $2,000. Yep - that's TWO GRAND. So while I am nodding politely and trying not to hyperventilate, she starts telling me the cost of the show. I had seen the flier, and it said clearly "$20 per class." I can handle $20. But then she pointed out that the $20 fee was for riders with their own horses. If you used one of the barn's horses, it was $250. Karlin's class is a small one, and she would - literally - be on the horse for about 10 minutes. And then you have to tip the Grooms too. If she were to compete in two classes (which she's not ready for yet), then it's only $275. So I get home, Bart is in the kitchen, and I go straight to the fridge for a beer. I drink most of it before I say "You are going to kill me."

The thing is...I kind of got Karlin into all this. I mean, I knew it was expensive, but I didn't think it was THIS expensive. Bart and I are pretty comfortable - we live in a pretty nice house and have a pool and drive OK cars and take decent vacations. But we're a one income family. Who ARE these people who can afford to spend upwards of $500 a pop for their 7 year olds to sit on a horse for 10 minutes? Not us, that's for damned sure.

So we decided that Karlin needs to sit this one out. She's never actually even seen a show (none of us has)...she just wants to do the show because her instructor says she should do the show. We really want to support her in what she loves, but we want her to first gather enough information to know what she loves. I mean, she's 7 years old. We want her to watch one first, and train awhile longer. That gives us time to do a little research, to get the outfit together, and maybe have her compete in more than one class. It made sense to us, and after we conferred with Ms. Sue, she agreed. (She even offered to loan us a horse down the road, to help with the costs. Ms. Sue is the best.)

Of course, when Bart told Karlin she wasn't going to be in the show, she freakin' LOST IT. She's so disappointed and so upset. I know that we are making the right choice for now, but still. I got her into all this, and now I can't deliver. And she's held up all of her ends of the bargain too - making perfect grades, excelling at her piano lessons, doing great in Girl Scouts. So now I feel even worse.

So basically, this Fat Lady is in a big fight with her mother, and is simultaneously breaking her own daughter's heart.

Shit. What a Crappy Week.

Yet More Examples of Why Today's World Considers Me an Inferior Parent

This whole blog stems from 1 question:

Where do you store 300 empty cereal boxes?

OK, so you are probably thinking "What in the hell is she talking about? Why would anyone need or want to store that many cereal boxes, especially empty ones?" Let me explain...

For those of you who still have lives of your own (meaning kidless folks), there is this magazine called "Family Fun." Sounds innocent enough. Families! Having Fun! Woo Hoo! The name is a bit misleading. Although there are lots of good things in the magazine (family travel destinations and hints, organization ideas, etc...) it's mostly crafts and stuff. I want you to think Martha Stewart for mommies. Stuff that a) looks great on paper, b) seems easy enough to do, and c) will give your family some FUN!

Admittedly, I have pulled off some of the projects successfully. But a lot of it is 100% unrealistic in the real world. If I had a Nanny to watch my kids and was being paid a salary to come up with and complete these activities, maybe. Chase with paper mache? I don't think so. I'd probably be cutting it out of his hair, the dog's hair, and the cat's hair for weeks. Exactly where do you put 45 empty egg crates? Or 150 toilet paper roles?

Or 300 empty cereal boxes?

Project in question was sent in by a reader (I hate these chicks) who had the time and sanity to come up with this amazing project. You see, her daughter started saving cereal boxes for recycling. Noble enough. But then they thought maybe they could do something else with them. So they kept saving them and kept saving them and kept saving them. Until one day, they had enough to BUILD A CASTLE PLAYHOUSE OUT OF EMPTY CEREAL BOXES! And this was a big playhouse too - the kids was no toddler. She was probably 8 or 9, and it was plenty big enough for her.

I barely have room in my pantry for the 3 cereal boxes that we're eating from, let alone space for a bazillion empty boxes. And good grief - isn't that why God created Toys-R-Us? Or playgrounds? Making a playhouse out of an appliance box - sure! Been there and done that. But my family goes through about 4 boxes of cereal a month - let's round it up to 5 for easier math. At that rate, it would take us 60 month - or 5 years - to get 300 cereal boxes. If you borrowed from friends and could round up 25 boxes per month, it would only take you a year.

Seriously? Are you kidding?

So you see - these are the types of things that the mommie-world culture puts on us. It's not enough that you serve on the PTA and help as a parent reader and volunteer to put the class Science Fair project together and volunteer to decorate the class door for the rest of the year...now you gotta build CASTLE PLAYHOUSES OUT OF EMPTY CEREAL BOXES?!?

And in case you had a few boxes leftover, the website also has instructions for Cereal Box sandals, a Cereal Box tote bag, and a Cereal Box car carry-all!

I gotta go eat me some Raisin Bran...wish me luck!
(PS: Do NOT send me any empty cereal boxes!)

"I Love the Cookies"

OK - like 95% of America, I am starting the year dieting. Again. Have you ever seen the kid's movie "Over the Hedge"? Worth watching, even if you don't have kids. What's not to like? Bruce Willis as the raccoon, William Shatner is HILARIOUS as an Opossum, Steve Carrel as Hammie the squirrel. There's naked turtle butt, references to finding your nuts, and a few other jokes that I manage to work into my everyday conversation at least twice a week. But I digress...

There's this part where R.J. (Bruce Willis) is trying to get Hammie (Steve Carrel) to go steal some cookies from a house. He puts one as bait, but it's a crappy cookie that is just supposed to get Hammie to the roof, so he can get to the house and let the other animals in. He stops at the crappy cookie, and R.J. (Bruce Willis) says "No Hammie - forget the cookie!" And Hammie (Steve Carrel) says in a lovely, pathetic, whiny voice: "But I love the cookie."

That just about sums it up for me. "I love the cookie."

Seriously - go rent it or download it. FUNNY.

Also, I am - for the 3rd time - attempting the Westchase TriGals "Iron Distance Challenge." 31 days to run 26.2 miles, swim 2.4 miles, and bike 112 miles. I did it last year, but finished on the very last day. This year, I am aiming to beat that by, oh, at least 1 day. My girl DKR is doing it with me (you go girl!), assuming our poor old battered bodies survive the month.

So yesterday I went out for a bike ride. We have a great recreational trail near my house - The Upper Tampa Bay Trail. It's paved, has water stops and bathrooms, overpasses and/or safe crosswalks across the few busy roads it intersects. Nice for walking, jogging, bike riding, or rollerblading. So I was there yesterday, aiming to do 12 miles. The first 5 were great. It was a gorgeous day here in Tampa, and I felt good. "Woo Hoo! I'm getting back in shape faster than I though! This rocks!" I thought. Then - at mile 5 - I made a critical mistake. I TURNED AROUND. Turns out the first half of my ride was with the wind at my back. The second half was straight into the winds from hell. OW. I only finished 10 miles, because by the time I got back my arms and legs were shaking so badly that I almost couldn't get off the damned bike. Hard lesson to learn.

While on the Trail, though, I saw some interesting things:

* The chick strolling along, reading a book. That's right - a full-on paperback book.
* The chick riding her bike while text messaging on her Blackberry. She's got talent, I'll give her that.
* The sign for some gym advertising "Fitness at the Next Level!" I can't even seem to find the first level, let alone think about the "next" one.
* Then there was the dickhead. All along the trail, there are arrows showing you that you need to stay to the right. (This is America, after all.) These arrows are at your feet, are not subtle, and are located about every 500 yards. Can't miss it, right? Except that dickhead was turning onto my part of the trail, and he was running on HIS LEFT. I was riding on MY RIGHT, and - since I had the right of way - fully expected him to scoot his rude ass over and yield. Guess what? He didn't. He kept right on, I have to swerve to not crash into him, and then he muttered at me like I was in the wrong. I would have said something to him, but that would have required getting off the bike. I still had 3 miles to get back to my car - way too far to crawl.

This was all amusing to me because I can hardly carry out a conversation or a logical thought while I am exercising, let alone read a book or text message. And I guess some people are so damned stupid that they can't even understand ARROWS for Pete's sake!

Did I mention that Nick Nolte plays the homicidal bear in "Over the Hedge?" And Avril Lavigne is in it. Ans a few other people whose voices you will recognize.

Sorry I went back to the movie. Can't help it - I love the cookie. ;)

A New Year, A New List

If you've been reading this blog for the past year, then you remember the "Bucket List" post last January. (If not, you can look it up in the archives - I can't figure out how to post a link...) Last year I followed my friend's advice and made a whopper resolutions list that Bart calls my "Bucket List." The object is to put a whole lotta stuff on there, and then you've upped your odds of actually knocking some of the things off the list.

So how did I do? Just OK. I had 40 things on my list last year, ranging from "Go canoeing" to "Get a tattoo" to "Read at least 1 non-kid book a month." Of the 40, I scratched 9 things off the list. Those were:

* Catch up with old friends (Thank you, Facebook!)
* Get involved in charitable endeavors (JDRF Walk in March)
* Go to at least 1 Gator Game (vs. Citadel in November)
* Go see a sunset at the beach (Treasure Island, June)
* Label all video tapes (these are the little video tapes that go in the camcorder, and I finished them!)
* Take an airboat ride (Cherry Pocket in December)
* See fireworks (THREE times at Disney in July)
* Park 2 cars in the garage (after a good cleaning early in the year, we've managed this most of the time...)
* Read at least 1 non-kid book a month. Done and then some.
I had 2 more that are "iffy":
* Go Camping (I technically did this at Girl Scout Camp Training in Sept, although it wasn't what I originally intended when I wrote the list. Does it still count?)
* See a shuttle launch (again, technically I did. We saw a night launch from a big field at a school event. However, I originally meant to see one from Cape Canaveral. Does it count?)

So I hover somewhere just above the 20% mark - not too too bad I guess. So on to Bucket List 2009! I will probably move most of the 2008 list over. Is it fair to put something on there that you know you are already going to do? Probably not. Leave it to me to try to cheat on a New Year's resolutions list.

So Happy New Year everyone! Get started on your own bucket list - but wait for a day when the weather is really crappy. No need to waste a beautiful day (like today - 80 and sunny in Tampa) making lists (or blog posts...)