Pride or Principle

It all started with a bet...and this is what you get. This obviously is not my husband (shucks!), but this is exactly what his hair currently looks like. Aren't I a lucky woman? I was told R's image was unavailable for blog use, so Jackie Moon is my substitute. Back to the story. R & buddies (aka fellow 'hair club for men members') thought it would be funny to see who could go the longest without a haircut. Little boys in large men bodies looking for a hair-raising experience. When shaking on the deal, I don't think any of them considered the repercussions.

R's hair looks like a helmet. He who shies from all things 'metro' was forced to purchase and use hair products for the first time. It's hilarious! I feel like I am watching a teenage boy learning how to use cologne. It's awkward, endearing, and downright dorky! So when I asked him about his day today, he got this disturbed look on his face. It all came spilling out. A man at the water cooler asked R if he got a "permanent" over the weekend. HA! Pride or principle, we'll see who wins the bet!

Invasion of the Body Snatcher

It's official, it's not "There goes the neighborhood", it's "There goes the neighbor". I have lowered my standards...I have no pride. The poor people (my family included) living within a two block radius are about to condemn me. I have been publicly spotted wandering the hood in my bathrobe on several occasions. I haven't brushed my hair for 3 days. I actually spruced up for Sunday family dinner with a wet wipe. I now understand those haggard women I see in public looking disheveled, glassy-eyed and in desperate need of a makeover. Granted we have been moving furniture around and packing boxes, but I have been letting myself get pretty gnarly. I finally showered this afternoon and when I got out of the shower I screamed. Not because my body rejected shampoo & conditioner as a foreign substance, but because I didn't recognize myself. Who was that stranger?! Out of my bathrobe, grungy sweats & work clothes, I didn't look any better. I had to remind myself that soap is not surgery. Then I paused...what was I hoping to find? A supermodel? I have been eating more than saltines and the last time I had professional grooming was...I can't remember. As for people wanting my photograph, there was that call from National Geographic. Have I really let myself go? And just how far gone am I?

As I stood there examining myself, notice I didn't say "checking out", I dug deep to find my inner Pollyanna/Tony Robbins. Nudity and vulnerability makes one quite gullible. Cue pep talk- I realized that I look pretty good as long as my eyeballs are above the water line. I have my health, all of my original teeth, my hair is nothing a weed wacker can't treat, my clothing covers all the important places and I have most of my brain. It's a fact that you lose brain cells when you are pregnant. NO I AM NOT, but I have been and I haven't recovered. My body is a road map. It shows where I've been and where I hope to go. Those well padded hips- great for child birth and packing around toddlers. The poochy stomach- perfect for hiding my feet when I leave the house in slippers. The booty- reflects my baking abilities and brings me one step closer to my future hip hop dancing career. The bingo wings (aka arms)- perfect for carrying, calming, landing airplanes, you name it. My point is that 'stranger' staring back at me is not such a stranger after all. I just need to spend a little more time with her. If that doesn't work, maybe I'll try "beer goggles". Everyone looks good after three! Just kidding!

"Uh, Thank You Very Much"

Did you ever see the movie Parenthood? Well, our little E is the kid running around with a bucket on his head. She is quirky. Her latest move is a head stand. I don't know if she enjoys it because she can effortlessly fold in half or because she likes checking out her "cankles". She held this pose for a good 10 minutes in bed last night. Baby Yoga- she needs to center herself before she sleeps!

A day in the life of E... well, it all started this morning with a pair of dad's swim goggles and mom's reading flashlight (yes, I know they have invented reading lamps). Who would have known that such a combination would help E channel Elvis. With music blasting, E had the hip swivel and the attitude. She was in the zone. A legend in her own mind. As her personal paparazzi, I snapped a picture of her doing the 'King's' signature sign off "Uh, Thank you very much".

Onto the next activity, sampling toothbrushes. With her new found mobility and elevation, E has discovered bathroom drawers. Her favorite one, the toothbrush & toothpaste drawer. She does not discriminate. She will suck on every toothbrush for a few minutes, take it on a walk around the house, and abandon it in a random location. It adds a little excitement to our bedtime routine.

Feeling freshly groomed, time for a snack. As the benefactor of G-bean's soft food diet, E was introduced to pudding. What better way to eat pudding than in the buff. Armed with spoon and bowl, E attempted to feed herself. A new skill she's hoping to add to her arsenal of tricks. We all know how it ends...pudding everywhere. Well our newly dubbed 'pudding painter' was thorough in her work AND thoroughly entertained (for an hour-woohoo!).

The rest of the day was filled with baths, naps, popsicles, and a lot of other kooky things I can't remember... unless I look at my shirt, because I usually end up wearing my day. A smudge of this, shmear of that... All good clean fun!

Tonsil Tango

In preparation for teenage girls, we had G-bean's tonsils removed. Now we don't have to worry about teenage boys and tonsil hockey! Just kidding. In reality, our sweet little girl snored louder than a chainsaw and packed tonsils the size of ping pong balls.

Thursday we made the dreaded trip to the hospital for G-bean's surgery. I thought that I was prepared, calm and collected. After working there for several years, I knew the drill and the people. It would be an in and out operation- literally! Not so. As I watched them pull away my firstborn in a little red wagon, I lost it. I did what every other parent did, cried and ate a stale bagel while staring at the fish tank. I am not a crier! Leave it to general anesthesia to bring out my emotional side. Don't worry, I pulled it together. And an our later, G-bean was kicking back root beer slushies with the best of them! Kids are so resilient!

Now she is enjoying her diet of Popsicles and Princesses. Yep, for the next 2 weeks we are quarantined. I have a feeling that soft foods and "shows" might get a little old. But until then, I'll enjoy the afternoon snuggles & movies. Thank goodness there are 3 different Cinderella movies.

Run for the Border

The only running I've done lately would be running for the border. With my pint size posse in tow, we headed to Mexico. R joined us midweek. AAAAAHH, sunshine, surf and as Jimmy Buffet would say "2 Pina Coladas, One for each hand"! It was our much anticipated annual family trip to the beach. Magnifico!

It's amazing how things change. Last year, we traveled with 6 week old E and 3 year old G-bean. This year, that sleepy baby was a maniac on pudgy feet. Two crazy kids, two busy parents, and one plan...pick a kid and keep up! The days were an blur of walks on the beach, pool hopping, tropical drinks, guacamole & chips, naps, good books, great catch up sessions with family, bananas flambe, sand castles, game nights, and great memories. Good for the soul and for the skin! I am proud to report it was an aloe-free trip. No sunburns for my peeps! It was a trip we won't forget, especially with the piles of sand we continue to find.

Polka Dot Party

First and foremost, I would like to wish a Happy Birthday to my bestest buddy, G-bean! To think that it was 4 years ago that she came down the chute fist first to greet the world. That's my girl...arriving in her own style! I can't believe how fast it has gone. Looking back, I wish I could easily recall every moment of wonder, love, exhaustion, frustration, cluelessness, laughter, tears, etc...but I can't. Maybe that is why I take so many pictures. I do take comfort in knowing that I lived and felt all of those experiences with my girl and hopefully she will remember for both of us. Because as we all know, kids have long memories!

I must admit, I still have those Martha Stewart aspirations for a fabulous B-day party. This year, things went down a little differently. We started the day with an impromptu breakfast party with R's parents and an aunt & uncle. R was making french toast like it was going out of style in the frilly apron G-bean assigned him. We had syrup flowing, balloons floating, and wrapping paper flying. Birthday bliss! This is where the story takes an unexpected turn. In the wake of our breakfast bonanza, we discovered that our birthday girl had some party decorations of her own...red polka dots.

In my calmest voice, I quickly requested that R google chicken pox. One must prepare thyself for the pictures pox patients are willing to post. Unbelievable! What a gift! One that she wouldn't forget in the itchy 2 weeks to come. After consulting with several nurses, it was suggested that we quarantine the G-bean. Of all things, it's her birthday. She has been wearing her birthday crown from school for 2 days and prancing around the house in all of her 4 year old glory...chicken pox really? It was then that our nurse went rogue. Although it was strongly recommended that we avoid the general public (including the doctor's office), our dear nurse cooked up a plan to sneak us in the back door for an official diagnosis. "Operation Party Princess" was on.

What I love about G-bean is that she thought it was an exciting event, which of course required the assistance of her gold glitter shoes. The commute gave me just enough time to mentally reschedule the next few weeks of our lives, prepare to have 2 chicken pox patients, figure out a calling tree for the 16 kids in her school class, and wonder if we started an epidemic that would make the 10 o'clock news by attending Disney Princesses on Ice with 3,000 other children. Germs!!! You become so much more aware of them and what carrier monkeys kids are when you have monkeys of your own!

With our covert entrance a success, G-bean's mysterious polka dots were diagnosed. Are you ready for this? It was a rash from the hot tub she swam in in Mexico. Exotic, but not contagious! Thank goodness, I was prepared for R to seal our house with plastic wrap and spray paint a skull & bones on the sidewalk. I was ecstatic while G-bean was as cool as a cucumber. She just wanted to finish the Dr. Seuss book we were reading. So, we sat in the back of the clinic, long after we were dismissed, giggling and reading the Cat in the Hat. Then with crown held high, we made our grand exit out the front door!

The story does not end with G-bean evading the pox. On our way home, she casually mentioned that she hadn't eaten any cake yet. Bullocks! No cake! So, my homegirl and I went to pick out the most fabulous ghetto Barbie cake from the store. We then headed home for yet another impromptu eating event. This time, a tea party with a hot pink Barbie cake, little sister, large dog, and dear old dad. Followed by some serious fort building. She was delighted!

What a day! Looking back, I am so proud of my polka-doted girl! There was no "but I wanted a pony" moment or disappointment because she spent the afternoon in the doctor's office. She had a great day and a grand adventure. It was then that I realized that I didn't have to provide all of the smoke & mirrors to make the birthday magic happen. At the end of the day, she felt special and loved. Plus, some of her best buddies hooked her up with her first two Barbies ever! From dress ups to plastic divas, our little girl is growing up!

Merely Mortal

Do you ever have those moments when you think to yourself "I am good"! Days where your energy surpasses Richard Simmons and your productivity exceeds a buzzing beehive. You don't mean to toot your own horn, but...TOOT! You contemplate changing your license plate to 'Miss Thang'. You feel like a superhero on pixie sticks. You almost hope the neighbor's cat gets stuck in a tree just so you can use one more power.

Well, today is not one of those days. I woke up feeling every inch the mortal that I am. How does one explain that to children, because the dark glasses and bathrobe in the middle of the afternoon aren't sending the message. How about "Kids, mommy's cape is at the dry cleaners. You are going to have to settle for Lois Lane today. Mommy will be moving slower and ignoring unreasonable demands and whiny voices. Maybe you could go watch Martha Stewart for a few hours and make a list of things for mommy to do when she regains her superpowers." Yeah right!

So how do I get my mojo back?! Any suggestions that don't involve a barrel full of diet coke (YUCK!), a riding whip, spandex unitard, narcotics, bottle rockets in my back pockets or Mexican jumping beans?