Tuesday, September 28, 2010

The B-I-B-L-E, Coldplay, Dancing, Strange Looks and a Blowout

What do all of these things have to do with each other? Nothing. But also a lot. It keeps me humble. On my toes. And always a little embarrassed.

The girls and I and Jason and our neighbors and their friends and their dogs, have been sick for 2 weeks. In real time (or I need-to-have-a-life-and-get-out-of-this-house-or-I'm-gonna-poke-myself-in-the-eyeball time) it felt like an eternity. Being sick and having sick kids is for the birds. It is the pits. I know all of you have been there, and if you didn't feel like it was one of the worst times of your life, then you're a better mother than I. This is when I wish I had all the money in the world to give my kids a magic pill that makes them instantly better, while I go on a sick vacation (to Hawaii) for a week. Who will take care of the kids? The nanny, of course!

Anyhow, a vacation to Hawaii was out of the question. Heck, going to Forever21 and buying a new outfit was out of the question. So our maiden voyage out into the real world was to...

Drum roll, please....

The YMCA!!!!! (Crickets chirp)

Now I know that it's really not that exciting. But I have to tell you, that IT IS actually a wonderful place. You get to drop your children off and work out. Doesn't sound like fun to you? The dropping off your kids part makes every unbearable workout, more bearable, because you are on a break from your children. And who doesn't want a break?

So our first trip out into the real world was going great. The girls were excited to play in the children's room, and I was able to run again. After my workout the endorphins were pumping, my legs felt like they were going to fall off, and I was on top of the world. I picked up the girls and headed out the door. I momentarily stopped in the lobby, put Chloe down to find my keys and she immediately grabbed her Bible out of our diaper bag. A little side note, Chloe is obsessed with her Bible. She gets that thing and will not let go of it. She pats it. She reads it. And she sings the B-I-B-L-E. And I know a mother shouldn't do this, but I have to hide it from her all the time. It's like WW-III to get it away from her.

She immediately starts reading it, and walking. And then she hears Coldplay over head. And she dances. And she dances some more. And she's pulling out moves that I've never seen. And she's singing the B-I-B-L-E. And patting her Bible. And dancing. And people are laughing. A couple of people stopped us before we left and asked about the girls. While they were talking to me, they kept giving me really strange looks. And I kept thinking that it was because Chloe was doing her version of religious dancing.

After gathering up Stella and my little heathen, we went out to the car. I put Chloe in her car seat first, then I sat Stella in my seat and started the car, then I put Stella in her car seat. After she was buckled in, I looked down and there was green, mushy poop all over my arm. ALL OVER IT. Then I look down again, and it's all over my shirt. My mind does an instant recall of every place Stella has been since blowing the heck out of her diaper. I back track. Stella is obviously covered in poo. Her car seat is covered. Then I run over to Chloe's side and her car seat is speckled with poop. Then I run to my seat, and the back of my seat was covered. I didn't know where to start. What to tackle first. The girl, my arm, the car seats, my seat????

And then I realized what the strange looks were for. I was walking through the Y, completely oblivious to the fact that my daughter pooped on me. And I'm mortified.

I finally got us all cleaned up. My face eventually went back to its normal color. And I cried and was grossed out the entire ride home.

The moral of the story? I don't really know. All I know is that I've been continuously humbled as a mother. I know that as much as I try to figure things out and get them perfect, they just aren't. Because when it comes down to it, my daughters like to embarrass me publicly with their dancing while reading the Bible, and their obligatory blow-outs. And I write about poop on my blog. Never thought that would be me.

And to be perfectly honest. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Monday, September 13, 2010

When in Rome....Eat Pizza!

I promised you with my last Rome post, that I would soon write about the best meal I have ever had. And when I tell you it was THE BEST, I do not lie.

WARNING: If you do not like to see pictures of people, eating, inhaling, and basically snorting food, do not, I repeat, DO NOT keep reading.

So when we left off, I was the wary traveler. But I hit my stride after our jaunt around Rome. And I really felt like I needed to pack up my girls and move there when we sat down to eat dinner that night.

We found this little pizza place that evening.


Jason ordered a pizza with porcini mushrooms.


And I ordered the margherita pizza.


And let me tell you, I have never eaten something so fresh, so delicious and something so quickly. Because my husband could not believe the passion with which I ate this pizza, he captured it all on film. I mean look at me! I look like a teenage boy going through a growth spurt.

Picnik collage

And to give you the up close and personal, because I know you want the up close and personal. I give you utter happiness, inhalation and delight. All over a pizza. A pizza I still dream about and salivate over today.

Pizza Collage2

It was so good I polished off the whole thing. And I shouldn't lead you astray here. I can eat massive amounts of food in one sitting, so this really isn't a surprise, it's just an integral part of the story.


I feel like my husband lost his "man card" (because men need some sort of card) over my last post about him falling asleep while caring for our children, and I'm afraid I'm not going to help him out here. Here's his "finished" pizza.


He should be ashamed of himself.

And when he asked this guy for a to-go bag.


He just laughed at him, and said in Italian, "You sucker. Your wife just ate more than you did. Why can't you finish your little pizza, you weenie. No to-go bag for you!"

And we left without his pizza, because the Italian guy never gave us the to-go bag.

The end.

Sweet dreams.

I don't know how I'm going to live my life without this pizza.

And I promise to never, ever, ever again post such disgusting pictures on my blog.

At least until tomorrow.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Punishment: Public Humiliation

In the midst of all of the sickness that has swept through my house, I forgot that I promised my husband that I would punish him on my blog. And I'm not one to go back on my word. So here it goes.

Last weekend, I had a few errands to run so I told Jason that I would run them while the girls were napping. I put the girls in their cribs for their naps, folded some laundry, put it in piles on my bed and headed out the door. A couple hours later I walked in the door and something didn't seem quite right. Jason was asleep on the couch, and the living room and kitchen were in complete disarray. Books were scattered, things were in the wrong places, items from the pantry were strewn all over the floor. So I immediately went into the girls room to check on them, and Stella was there but Chloe was not. I ran through the house calling her name only to find her in our room, on our bed, playing with our folded laundry.

I woke Jason up and asked him what happened. He told me that Chloe started crying right after I left. So he got her out, put her next to him on the couch, and the next thing he knew I was waking him up.

This is why men are not mothers. Mothers do not fall asleep when they are supposed to be taking care of their children.

Or at least they wouldn't get caught doing it.

Punishment. Consider it served.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

If You Would Like a Nice Case of the Croup

Come to our house. We'll give it to you for free*.

* Two trips to the doctor, one 4AM visit to the emergency room and breathing treatments included.

Sounds like a deal to me.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Mystery Film

I found this disposable camera today.

It's not the first time I've seen it. It has to be at least two years old. It pops up into my life from time to time, and I always think that I should develop it. But then I forget, and it disappears, until it inevitably reappears again.

Well, today I dropped it off at Walgreen's. There's no telling what's on the thing, but I can't wait to find out.

You're intrigued right?

Stay tuned. I'll probably share a few with you.


Also, in response to last night's entirely too long of a post, post. About five minutes after I posted it, I thought, "What in the world was I thinking? This is awesome!!!!!!!" I wanted to delete it and pretend like I never said such silly things, but then you go through the whole awkward "the title shows up on blog rolls, then you click on the link and the page isn't found." That's too mysterious for me. Plus you can't help but wonder exactly what was in that post. Did they curse, did they say awful, blasphemous things and then have stomach wrenching second thoughts...WHAT WAS IT?

I had so much fun on my little break, and I was a little sad when Jason told me they were coming home a little early. (Sorry girls.) {How many times can I say little in a sentence? Three times.} I just like being by myself sometimes (Sorry Jason.) But they were met with their new refreshed, well-rested, and lucid mom.

Don't worry girls, it will only be a matter of time before your crazy, sleep-deprived, and senile mom shows up.

I give her about five minutes flat...

Sunday, September 5, 2010

So This is What They Call Balance.

Jason and I were away from home for 5 years. During the last two years, I became pregnant, had a baby girl, loved that baby girl, moved from my beloved Chicago to Cleveland, had every intention of having a second baby in the distant future, only to be surprised by another pregnancy, had another baby girl 11 months later, loved that baby girl, and I learned what it really meant to be a parent. There is no break. It is a 24 hour job. There is no weekend, no holiday, no second of the day that you are not responsible for those precious little babies. And during that time, I never spent a day or night by myself. And I kept daydreaming and sometimes dreamt about the day that we would be home, and we would have ample babysitters at our fingertips.

Well, that day is here.

The day and night that I get to spend all by my little self.

Jason took the girls to his mom's house today to spend Labor Day with his family. I would've gone, because I love being with his family, but Jason decided that it would be good for me to have a little break from my bambinos. I packed up their stuff, loaded them in the car, kissed them goodbye and cried the entire time. The thing that I had longed for all of this time was happening, and the only thing I could feel was sadness. As much as I need healthy breaks from them from time to time, my heart still aches when I'm not with them.

But I'm enjoying myself. I've done nothing by lie on the couch, catch up on Project Runway episodes, eat a Johnnies burger, organize my vitamins, eat a couple of bowls of ice cream, think about working on my flower bed, forget about working on my flower bed and sit on the couch and relax some more.

Tonight I get to sleep in my bed without a monitor. Tomorrow I get to sleep in as long as I want, wake up when I want, stay in bed as long as I want, drink a cup of coffee out on the back porch, lace up my tennis shoes, go for a run outside, and procrastinate about working on my flower bed.

While I'm savoring every single quiet moment, it doesn't mean that my heart won't be with my family, and that my daughters' faces won't consume many of my thoughts. But it does mean that I will get a break. I will come back refreshed. And I will get to spend some time just being me.

So this is balance. I never thought it would be this difficult. But it's so necessary. And as much time as I spent fantasizing about the moment when I had some time just to myself, I hate/love the fact that it's laced with a bittersweet feeling.

But in the spirit of balance, I must turn off my computer, get back to Project Runway and doing absolutely nothing. Well, as soon as I work on the darned old flower bed.

Maybe not after all.

I hope all of you have a safe and wonderful Labor Day!

Friday, September 3, 2010

A Bouquet

My husband brought these home to me today.

Bless his soul. I'll take this over a bouquet of flowers any day.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Eat. Jet Lag. Culture Shock.

I took a total of 836 total pictures in Italy. And that's not including the 400 duplicate-type pictures I deleted from my camera.

And I'm posting every single one of them on my blog.

So get ready.

It's going to be a long and boring next two years.

Jet lag is nuts. Its bonkers. I never got past it. Never got over it. I had drowsy days and sleepless nights the entire week. If you've never had a case of jet lag, you should totally get it sometime. It's so worth it.

We spent two days in Rome. Two glorious days. I never expected to fall in love with Rome like I did. The first thing we did when we got there? Eat, of course. Isn't that what you do in Rome, Julia Roberts?

We found a little local restaurant for lunch, and it was so great because we were the only tourists there.

They were so nice and welcoming to us, and I was able to practice my "I-have-culture-shock-but-I'm-not-going-to-act-like-it-even-though-everyone-knows-I-have-culture-shock-face".
I should be the poster child for jet lag. I swear this is the worst I looked the whole trip. At least this is the worst I'll show you.

How did Jason deal with his culture shock?
He didn't. He didn't have it.
He's the perfect traveler and I love traveling with him. I have to travel with him. It's a necessity. Because I'm a complete mess when I travel. You should ask him. He'll tell you the truth.

But the real question is. How did Jason deal with jet lag?

Well, he dealt with it on our bus tour of Rome.
Wait for it.

Wait for it.

Wait for it.

I might have had the worst case of culture shock, jet lag, and looking like a total idiot foreigner, but at least I didn't fall asleep on a bus tour in Rome.

Coming up next? Praying in India. Just kidding. The best meal I've ever had! And it's going to get really disgusting.