Wow, did I have a day Saturday.  A go back to bed and hide under the covers kind of day.  Either that or just laugh. 

 

I still had that really bad cold.  You know, the kind where your nose runs like a faucet and your eyes burn and you feel like someone is twisting and squeezing your brain.  So I wasn’t at the top of my game.  Which is my way of trying to explain why I was such an idiot.

 

Emma was in one of her I want to help moods, and since I’ve been sick, I asked her to go around with Clorox wipes and wipe down all the door knobs, etc.  And she did a great job.  After she finished, she and Shannon went over to a neighbor’s to play.  A little later, I decided that I HAD to have some different cold medicine.  I called my neighbor and asked her if she would watch the girls long enough for me to run to the pharmacy down the street.  I was in such a hurry I didn’t lock the door, I couldn’t find my keys, so I grabbed my spare car keys and left.  I’m sure you can see where this is going.

 

I get more medicine, come home, walk up to the door, grab and handle and it doesn’t turn.  What?  We never use the handle lock.  Then I remember Emma cleaned it.  Crap.  I look at my watch.  We have slightly under an hour to get into the house, change Emma into her costume, wrap presents and get her to a birthday party for triplets (6 year old triplets.  Can you imagine?).   Can still make it.  Run over to the neighbor’s, call the management company and they tell me it will be 45 minutes before someone can come out and it will cost me $25.00.  I say OK (like I have a choice).  Then I remember I gave my brother a copy.  I try to call him, no answer.  So we drive over to his house.  His car I gone and so is Bart, which means he is in the city.  We briefly ransack his house, can’t find it, so we head home.  Emma is getting more and more upset because she is going to be late and she thinks it’s her fault.  So I’m trying to reassure her.  The maintenance guy arrives shortly after us, lets us in.  I tell Emma to go change as fast as possible (it is 1:00 and the party started at 1:00).  I shove all the presents into a giant gift bag, Emma comes running down the stairs, and we all run out the door.  I slam the door behind me, and realize I still haven’t grabbed the right keys.  And I didn’t unlock the handle.  I stop dead on the sidewalk, look at the door and say “I can’t believe I did it again!” and Shannon tells me she unlocked it.  I grab her, kiss her and we run to the car.

 

We get Emma to the party exactly 15 minutes late, run into the building, drop her off and walk out to the car.  We get in and as I sit down, I realize there was something wet all over the seat.  Of course, I don’t figure this out until I’m already sitting in it.  I must have knocked over the diet coke I had in the cup holder when I got out.  The good news is I don’t have to worry about it ruining the leather seat because my big butt has done an excellent job cleaning it up.

 

At this point, I decide the best course of action is to go home and stay there.  And that cooking is probably a bad idea, too.

 

I emailed my brother later so he would know we had been there, and his reply was “wow, sounds like an Excedrin kind of day.”

I got to chaperone a field trip to the zoo Friday for Emma’s first grade class.  I should point out that I have a really bad cold.  So my patience was a little shorter than normal.  Anyway, there were so many parents that went I only had three in my group, a boy and a girl, and then the girl’s mom showed up.  So we all walked together.  The boy was an absolute angel.  The girl (who plays with Emma frequently) was another matter.  All she cared about was seeing the polar bears. The polar bears are on the far end of the zoo and we had a limited amount of time, so we had decided to go in order to try and see as much as possible.  But I did promise her we would see the polar bears.  But every animal we saw, she would say, “We’re seeing the polar bears next, right?” And her mother would just calmly say, “No, not yet, we told you it will be awhile.”  After about the 4^th time, I looked at her and said, “You know what, every time you ask me that, I’m going to tell you no, and then when we get there it’ll be a big surprise!”  And I looked at her mom and said, “wow, she can be quite persistent and single minded.”   Then she wanted to stop for lunch.  It was 10:00.  When we did stop for lunch, we couldn’t get her to leave the play area.  And she refused to eat.  And her mom is just calmly saying, “Come on, you need to eat now.”  I’m trying to stay out of it.

 

Finally the teacher came over and we were talking and I had decided enough was enough and I looked at the girl and said, “You know, if you don’t eat, we can’t see the polar bears and they were going to be next.”  Wow, she was ready to go then.  Everything went pretty smoothly until we were leaving and then she says, “Emma, you said we were going to sit together on the way home and a promise is a promise, right Emma?  A promise is a promise, right Emma?  A promise is a promise, right Emma?  Over and over again.  After about 8 times, Emma looks at her and says, “OK, Fine!!!”  When we got back Emma looks at me and says, ‘Mom, I never promised her anything.  I just sat with her to make her stop.”

 

I don’t think I’ll be complaining about my kids much for while.

 

 

 

Explain this to me:  Why is it my children must yell questions to me from the other end of the house when I'm running water, either brushing my teeth or cleaningup the kitchen, etc. and cannot hear them?  And why is it when I respond "just a minute, I can't hear you" what they seem to hear is "I can't hear you, but please stay in the other room and continue to repeat the question over and over, punctuating it with Mom, Mooooommmmm!"

 

Just wondering.

Well, we survived the weekend.  Largely due to my friend D who spent a good portion of the day with me.

 

We started the day by going out to get them a card.  I even got one from me.  It was the kind you give to someone you don’t know, but I did it.  I was trying to be nice. 

 

My ex was supposed to pick up the girls at 8:30 am to take them to the salon.  Now I should mention that a few weeks ago I had offered to take them so my ex and his fiancé wouldn’t have to worry.  But he wanted to take them.  Knowing his inability to actually be on time for anything, when my phone rang at 8:15 imagine my surprise to see his number pop up.  Apparently he’s stuck in traffic.  Now he has driven this I don’t know how many times, but for some reason he always thinks it takes a half hour less to get here.

 

So then he calls again at 8:30, he’s nowhere close, and would I mind taking the girls over to the salon?  I agree and load the girls into the car and drive them over.  We get to the salon and when the stylist comes out to get Emma, she asks me what I would like her to do. I just look at her and say, “I don’t know, it’s not my wedding.”  Then someone comes out for Shannon and asks me the same thing.  Just then my ex walks in.  I refer them to him and he says they’re supposed to get up-dos because it’s a very formal wedding.  I say that Shannon really doesn’t like her hair up, and he replies that they all have to look the same because it’s a very formal wedding.  I say, “Why? They’re little girls.  You know what? Never mind, it’s not my wedding.”  I look at the stylist and ask her if she can leave some tendrils or something so Shannon feels more comfortable.  And she looks at me and says, “I can up it up or leave it down.  I can’t do both”. Ooookaaay. And I swear I wasn’t being rude.  I was being very polite.  So she takes Shannon back and my ex asks me to transfer all their stuff into his car. 

 

I go out and I can tell his car is loaded, so I open the driver’s side door, look inside and burst out laughing.  Now, I don’t want to come off as a snob.  I believe your wedding should be whatever you want and you can afford.  But after his insistent comments about the formality of it all.  I should also point out that he keeps telling me about the fabulous flowers that the maid of honor did.  I guess she used to be a florist.

 

The car is stuffed with Greco-Roman pillars, tulle and white silk rose arrangements in large faux weathered ceramic urns.  And these weren’t the nice silk roses you see.  They looked really awful.  They were frayed and stiff and hard.  And the arrangements were entirely white.  So I go back in and as I’m walking past the back of his car, I see the girls dresses.  And they’re sleeveless.  Outdoor wedding.  In October.  In Illinois.  I go back in and look at my ex and say, “White silk flowers? Really?” Just because I’m mean and small and petty. Then I ask if they have wraps for the girls and he says yes, his fiancé has them.  So I ask when he will get them.  And he says he doesn’t know.  Rolling my eyes I offer to go them their sweaters just in case.  And they are very nice, white with some beading.  He agrees that it might be a good idea.  So I go back home and get them.  And take them back.  By now I can see what they are doing with their hair.  Emma is just a mass of long cascading curls.  Shannon looks like an exploded cigar.  BTW, the girls are on opposite ends of the salon.  So I go over to her and she smiles and asks me to stay with her because she’s a little nervous.  I squeeze her hand and say, “Of course, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”  And I stand by, but out of the way, but the stylist really doesn’t appreciate me being there. 

 

Anyway, their hair looked absolutely beautiful.  After they finally get finished, I say goodbye and go home.  Awhile later my friend D comes over to keep me company (and fix my computer! Yea!)

 

After hanging out for awhile, we headed over to the reception.  Now, this reception hall was nearly an hour away in a town I’m not familiar with, so I mapquested it.  But since I don’t have a printer, I just jotted down a few notes and we left.  And got lost.  You know, one corn field looks just like another.

 

In the middle of our meandering around, my cell phone rings and it’s my ex.  He wants me to pick them up a little later because they’re running a little late.  I tell him that’s fine, because I’m completely lost anyway.  And he asks me to pick hem up about a half hour later.  I say OK, and get off the phone.  I look at D and say, “He didn’t even offer me directions”.  D says, “Yeah, I noticed that”. 

 

We keep driving and I find a road with the correct name, but I’m not even sure where I’m at, but I do know I’m not in the right town, and this road has a really common name.  But we go down it anyway, and I try to call the reception hall for directions, only to get voicemail.  Then I call my friend B who lives in Georgia and ask her to look it up for me.  Keep in mind I’m in the middle of NOWHERE, so my cell service is so bad she can’t hear me.  But just as I was ready to give up on that tactic, I see the next street we’re supposed to turn on. I yell in jubilation, get off the phone and turn.  We drive for maybe a minute, and my phone rings again. And it’s my ex again.  Wanting to know if we can push it back AGAIN.  And we’re just passing an outdoor mall, so I say sure.  But I still don’t know where this reception hall is, so we decide to find it first and then come back.    The reception hall is right down the street, so I pull in and turn around and head back for Pier 1.  And my phone rings,  AGAIN.  My ex says that he saw me pull in and they’ll have the girls ready in jut a couple minutes. ??!!  It’s his wedding!  Why is he staring at the parking lot?  But I explain that we were just turning around and know we’re going shopping.  He says give them 10 minutes.  I tell him we’ll be back in about 15.

 

We walk around the store for a few minutes and start walking to the door when, yes, you guessed it, my phone rings.  This time he tells me they are ready to go and they are outside at the playground with hi mother.  Which is enough to make me bolt to the door.  I tell him we will be right there, and he replies, “Ok, love you, bye.”  EWWWWWWW.

 

D looks at me and says, “Doesn’t he realize this is his wedding day?  What is wrong with him?” but I can’t answer as I’m gagging.

 

We go to pick up the girls and they’re back in their play clothes.  And Shannon’s hair is disastrous.  Apparently they were told to change out of the dresses so I wouldn’t have them.  Now, I don’t want them, why would I, but to make them change at the reception?  And they took Shannon’s headpiece and completely destroyed her hair.  I no longer feel quite so small and petty. 

 

My ex’s cousin from Wisconsin comes out and I talk with him for a few minutes (he has a Mullet, ala Bill Ray, it was very distracting) and then we take off.

 

We’re driving home and I’m talking about this new radio station that claims to be the ADD station since they play a little of everything (I heard Billy Don’t be a Hero the other day!!!).  And they played “Fame”.  D and I were all into the music thing in High School, she went on to be a music major, she is an excellent violinist and pianist and has an unbelievable voice.  So we both broke into song, I’m sure my kids thought we were nuts, especially when we both flashed the jazz hands at the same time!

 

Happily, we not only didn’t get lost on the way home, but also found a shortcut.  Got the girls home, got them ready for bed, and yes, my phone rings.  I know, I couldn’t believe it either.  He just wanted to confirm the next visitation.  In TWO WEEKS.  On his wedding night!  And D just looks at me and says, “Doesn’t he realize it’s his wedding night?”  I just shrug and shake my head.

 

And D, just so you know, he called again today.  With his wife right next to him in the car.

I can’t wait until this weekend is over.  My ex is getting married tomorrow.  On Sweetest Day.  Gag.  On a side note, did you know that Sweetest Day was actually started as a day to give candy to orphans, widows and the poor?

 

Anyway, I feel like I’m walking a tightrope.  Emma is all excited about being in the wedding while Shannon hates it.  They are getting their hair done at the salon and of course, Emma can hardly contain herself about that.  So I did her nails, then Shannon’s, all the while smiling and listening to Em’s non-stop chattering.  Then I tucked Emma into bed.  When I went in to tuck in Shannon, she asked me to please come with her, I explained that I couldn’t, that she should just go and have a great time.  And she commented that it was all a big joke, a big lie, that he didn’t tell his fiancé the truth.   I just hugged her and told her she shouldn’t worry, that his fiancé was a grown up and she would be fine.  Then I told her to make sure she had lots of chocolate from the fountain and reminded her that I would be picking them up.  And she smiled. 

 

I don’t understand why I feel this way.  I feel empty and alone.  Don’t get me wrong.  You couldn’t pay me to go back to that life.  Which is why I don’t understand why I feel this way.

 

One thing I do know: I can’t wait for Sunday.

You have probably noticed how I haven’t had any wildlife stories to pass on.  That has all changed recently.  A couple of weeks ago I was sitting at the computer when this movement outside on my back porch catches my eye.  I walk over and see a baby possum wandering around.  So I grab my camera and try to take a picture of it (btw – taking a picture of a small animal through a screen in the dark doesn’t work).  The flash goes off, and it turns TOWARDS the screen door and tries to come in!  I look at it and say “Oh no!  You are not coming in here!” and it turns are waddles away quickly.

 

Then today, I’m once again sitting working on the computer when the phone rings.  It’s Shannon’s Girl Scout leader.  In the middle of our conversation, I look up and see a squirrel climbing up the screen trying to get in!  I yell, “You have got to be kidding me!” Then I remember I’m on the phone and explain there’s a squirrel trying to break into my house.  I’m sure she thought I was crazy.

 

On another note, went to see Bart the bird not too long ago and he bit me.  Totally suckered me in.  Pretended he wanted me to pick him up and as soon as he got one foot on my arm, latched on and struck at me with his beak.  Fortunately, it startled me so much that I yanked my arm back, and I was wearing a heavy shirt, so it wasn’t bad.  But it sure hurt.  So I guess he hates me now.  Oh well.

I think I’ve mentioned before that Halloween was my Dads favorite holiday.  Well, I was cleaning and ran across a picture of my Dad from a Halloween long ago.  He was dressed up as a werewolf and chained to a tree in our yard. Which at 6’4” and 240 lbs is pretty scary.

 

It made remember one Halloween when my Dad dressed up as a Scarecrow.  He stuffed his clothes with straw, drew eyes on a pillowcase, slit them on put it over his head.  He then pulled on a hat, tied his sleeves off at the wrist and his pant at the ankles, put on work boots and gloves.  He really looked like a scarecrow.  So he put on the scary music and went out and propped himself up with a couple of boards in some cornstalks on our porch.  And he waited.  Patiently.  For unsuspecting prey.  And they came.  In the form of two of my friends, who were going with me to see Halloween II.  Seeing them cross the street, I hid at the top of the stairs inside the door so I could watch the show.

 

These two foolish girls (we’ll call them S & K) had been talking about what would happen if someone like the Michael Myers escaped from the local mental institution, so they, without knowing, set themselves up perfectly for what was about to happen.

 

They walk up to the door, laughing and joking.  K rings the doorbell while S checks out the scarecrow.  Remarking at how real he looked, she leaned over and shook his shoulder back and forth.  So my Dad reached over and grabbed her by the leg.  S opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.  Then he reached over and grabbed K.  She looked down, screamed, ran across the lawn into the street and stood there screaming,  “Oh My God, What is that?”

 

At which point I fell down the stairs because I was laughing so hard. 

Yea!  I finally got a job interview!  It seemed to go well, but I don’t want to jinx anything, so I’m trying not to get my hopes up.  But it seems like nice company, the people seem nice and it’s only about 3 minutes from my house.  I was a little worried about the hours, because I would have to start 40 minutes before the girls start school, but another mom offered to take them in the morning!

 

So keep your fingers crossed that if this is supposed to be my new job, that everything continues to fall into place!

My ex is getting married in two weeks.  Now, while that does make me happy in some ways, what started out as a small, simple wedding has turned into this gigantic Cinderella type affair, complete with horse drawn carriage.  Of course the girls are both in it.  Originally they didn’t want to be, but because of my loving encouragement in the name of harmony (and trying not to make them feel guilty for wanting to be a part of it) they are now very excited about it.  And for them, I am glad.  I just am getting very tired of having these details force fed to me by them while I smile and nod.  It hurts Dammit!  Not because I want him or anything to do with him, but because he causes everyone all this pain and leaves this path of financial destruction behind him and his life just keeps getting better.  He lives in foreclosure for 18 months, until the foreclosure sale, moves out and moves in with his new girlfriend in her absolutely beautiful townhouse. And I know I’m being small and I’m being petty and I’m trying so hard not to be, but I can’t help it.   I’m still trying to clean up his mess.  The nightmares and memories still come up with the girls.

 

Alright, enough complaining.  My daughters and I are healthy; we have a roof over our heads and more food than we need.  I really have nothing to complain about.  But thank you for listening.

Well, I have another first.  The girls and I went to a local festival, a FALL festival, and I got sunburned. SUNBURNED.  In Illinois.  In October.  Who knew such a thing was even possible?  Of course, it was nearly 90.  But again, when is it that warm in October in Illinois?  And there are people that still say global warming isn’t real.  My lobster-like skin would disagree.  But that’s a whole different discussion.

 

So, after spending a very hot day in the sun, my kids take off for a friends house, and shortly thereafter, I get a call from the mom asking if Shannon can spend the night there.  I, of course, say yes, because this means I have one less child for the night.  But then the other mom suggests that her younger daughter come and spend the night with Emma.  Hmm.  Now this worries me because Emma had a different friend sleep over on Wednesday  (wouldn’t normally allow a sleep over on a school night, but it was kind of an emergency) and it wa a disaster.  I didn’t get them to sleep until 11:00pm, and that make getting up at 6:30 awfully early for first graders. 

 

Anyway, I kind of felt like I had to say yes, and I definitely got the better end of the deal.  Emma and her friend quietly went to bed at 9:30 without me even having to yell or threaten (unlike the other night). And they slept until 7:30 and then played quietly in the bedroom until I went and got them for breakfast. 

 

Shannon on the other hand, didn’t go to bed until after midnight and then woke up at 5:00.  And we’ve all been paying for it all day.  She was the whiniest, crabbiest child ever. 

 

So, needless to say, I’m the crabbiest mom ever.