Archive for the ‘brain dump’ Category

Nightly Routine- April 20, 2015

Monday, April 20th, 2015

For years my husband has marveled at my bedtime routine, wondering what on earth could take me so long to get ready for bed. Exasperated he says, “No one on earth takes so long to get ready to go to sleep! What are you doing?!”

It’s true. I would think most women take longer than their male significant others to go to bed. For mothers of little ones, it’s an unending string of tasks adding to another hour of sleep we won’t get.

bed routine edited

This is exactly what I did the other night and not far from my nightly routine:

  • Announce to husband, “I’m going to bed.”
  • Kiss him
  • Check locks on back door, garage door and front door
  • Unlock one door to let the dog out
  • Put rogue sippy cup in the dishwasher
  • Add remaining dishes in the sink and start the dishwasher
  • Remember that laundry needs to go in the dryer, start dryer
  • Turn off lights, but leave a few on so we won’t get robbed and I won’t trip when I wake up with a crying baby
  • Head upstairs with an armful of shoes, a hairbrush, toys and bag of stuff I bought at Target that was all sitting on the stairs
  • Check to make sure each child is breathing and still sleeping
  • Notice one child has kicked off her covers
  • Tuck her in without waking her
  • Go into bathroom and turn on faucet to warm the water
  • Pee
  • Turn off now warmed water to go back downstairs to let the dog back in
  • Go back upstairs
  • Remove eye makeup with baby wipes because I no longer buy actual eye makeup remover
  • Toss the empty wipes package
  • Wash face
  • Apply zit stuff
  • Apply moisturizer (Although, I have a new skin care routine coming soon! Stay tuned! I digress…)
  • Pee again
  • Remember I need my Neti Pot because of spring seasonal allergies
  • Take Neti Pot downstairs to sanitize it in the microwave
  • While it’s in the microwave, notice I haven’t packed the preschool class snack in the “Snack Basket”
  • Load the basket
  • Find the weekly take-home preschool bag with the frog painted on it to put with the basket so we won’t forget it
  • Realize it’s in the car
  • Look for shoes
  • Don’t find shoes
  • Screw it and don’t get the bag with the frog painted on it
  • Get the Neti Pot out of the microwave and wipe up the water that spouted out of it during sanitation
  • Can’t find paper towels so I just leave the water in the microwave
  • Announce to husband that now “I’m really going to bed.”
  • Go back upstairs
  • Wash face
  • Realize I still have black smudges of eye makeup on my face
  • Look for wipes that are gone
  • Lick my finger and wipe under my eye
  • Remember I have a date with my husband later this week and decide to try an old dress on
  • Try on shoes with it too
  • Try on a different dress
  • Put pajamas on
  • Use Neti Pot
  • Change pajamas after getting saline from the Neti Pot on them
  • Go downstairs and get water to take medicine
  • Listen to husband say, “I thought you were going to bed!”
  • Assure him that I am
  • Take medicine
  • Brush teeth
  • Pee one more time
  • Look for charger
  • Plug in phone
  • Check on kids one more time
  • Lay in bed and look at Twitter until my husband comes in and asks me why I’m still not asleep
  • Reply by saying, “I was doing stuff!”

Husband’s bedtime routine:

  • Comes upstairs
  • Brushes teeth
  • Gets in bed
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Mom ID- March 27, 2015

Friday, March 27th, 2015

Even moms get carded

Yesterday evening I went to Walmart for a few things. Let me first say I’m not a Walmart regular, but I needed some things cheap, so I wanted to do a quick in and out. Even for someone like me who typically doesn’t mind busy store crowds, Walmart can be a different beast. Fast. Let’s get this done. I did not expect the holdup I got.

Greyson requested some beer. I steered my big blue cart down America’s biggest retailer’s coldest aisle to find my husband a six-pack. I also grabbed my seasonal favorite, Samuel Adams Cold Snap. I wanted my own brew to enjoy during the NCAA tournament. I stacked the beer in the cart with diapers, some things for Easter Baskets and store brand Clorox wipes. I found two lanes of the store’s 25 actually open. A young woman waved me to her line.

She began pulling my items off the conveyor belt. She got to the beer and said, “Do you have ID?” I paused and almost looked around for a second. Was she talking to me? I laughed and gave the obligatory, corny 30-something response to this. “Wow! You made my day.” I reached for my purse. Then I stopped. “Oh! No, I’m so sorry. I’ve lost my drivers license. I’ve ordered a new one.”

This is all true, but the clerk still eyed me suspiciously. She said, “You look really young. I can’t sell you this. ” I gaped at her in disbelief. Was this happening? I smiled and said, “Um, I’m 33. 34 is fast approaching.” She said, “Yeah. No. Sorry.”

I laughed before delivering this diatribe:

“Okay. I was born in 1981, early in the Reagan administration. I remember where I was when the O.J. Simpson verdict came down. Anyone who was sitting in their civics classroom when that happened is old enough to buy a six pack. I was young, but I even have vague memories of the Challenger explosion. I had New Kids On The Block t-shirts and saw ‘Wayne’s World’ and ‘Jerry McGuire’ in the theater. I graduated high school in 1999 and college in 2003, before the economic downturn. I more closely identify with Gen X than Millennials, but don’t believe I’m either, really. It’s called being stuck between generations.”

She looked around hesitantly. Possibly because I’m a crazy person who delivers speeches at the checkout. I continued.

“I have two kids.”

She stared at me and looked down at the beer. Oh, right. 19 year-olds can have kids too. I’m sure a lot of them buy diapers at Walmart. That wasn’t helping my argument.

“My husband is 40!”

She said, “Ma’m I can’t sell you this without ID.” There was no way this was really happening. I said, “Do you really think I look 20 or under?” She said, “I can get a manager, but it’s store policy.”

I laughed and told her it was fine. I looked in the mirror when I got in the car. I wasn’t wearing any makeup. Maybe that’s why I looked younger? I decided to take it as a complement. I told my husband what a hot, young wife he had as I sent him out to buy his own beer.

I had picked a fine craft brew for him. What did he come home with? Coors Light and Mike’s Hard Lemonade. What is he? A 19-year-old girl? No, but his wife sure looks like she is!

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Parenting In Spring- March 9, 2015

Monday, March 9th, 2015

Oh, sweet sunshine! I’m not one to complain about winter. I love Christmas, scarves, warm drinks and snow days. But, this year? This winter? This many snow days? No thank you. I’m done. Sunday was the first warm day. I had to get out. I had to get at least a mini-workout in. I went out for a quick jog with Henry in the stroller. I had to Instagram it to prove the exercise happened and to brag to IG followers up north that the afternoon’s temperatures were in the 65 to 70 degree range.

ig stroller

It was during this jaunt that my parenting came into question. Twice.

The warm breeze blew on my face as I picked up the pace. No cars were on our quiet wooded street. I heard birds. Henry said some version of “Woof!” whenever he heard a dog bark. It was sweet and lovely. I was energized as my heart rate went up. That’s when I got a text from a friend to finalize our dinner plans. I stopped in the street to answer her. Again, no cars were around.

As I prepared to hit “send” I saw some neighbors coming up the hill. It was a couple in their early sixties walking in the warmth together. I briefly smiled at this pair of graying Baby Boomers before glancing back at my phone. They were the only others I’d seen out. I heard the man say, “Don’t text in the middle of the road!”

::pause::

I looked up. I was still trying to type my message. In my mind I thought, “Uh, mind your own business, Pops.” Instead I chuckled nervously, “Yeah, not my best parenting move. Ha!” I rolled my eyes and rolled my baby out of the middle of the road. He said, “You can stand in the middle of the road and text alone, but not with your baby!”

What?! Seriously?! I croaked out more nervous chuckles. Was this guy trying to be funny?

This is the intersection where this went down.

This is the intersection where this went down. Dangerous, right? 

I was thinking they may have felt they stepped on my toes by telling me what to do so they came over to admire my babe and be a little more neighborly. They smiled and told me how cute Henry was. That’s when the woman scolded me said, “He’s not wearing any shoes!” I politely smiled and explained how he fights me when it’s time to put on his shoes and since it’s such a lovely day, I thought going barefoot in the stroller would be fine.

Good God, people! Really?! Don’t you think if I had heard a car on our very quiet street I would have moved? Was it the safest thing in the world to stop there? No, probably not. But, no one was in danger and it certainly didn’t warrant comment. Then the shoe thing on top of it? Am I wrong to be rubbed the wrong way by this? I wanted to shout, “Yep! I’m that neighbor. I’m a reckless 21st century mother who’s more preoccupied with her phone than her child. I love the thrill of pushing my kid out of the road at the last second. I hope a car comes speeding by! Screw shoes! You should keep an eye on me and my neglected kids!”

Excuse me while I go inside like it’s winter so I don’t have to see the neighbors.

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Yes Day- February 24, 2015

Tuesday, February 24th, 2015

snow day yes day collage

We’re ending another snow day. Another day gone with no preschool, no playgroups, no workouts and a shortened workday. No amount of hot chocolate, movies or sledding could save our sanity by 5:00 pm.  I tapped on my husbands headphones as he diligently filled out spreadsheets at his laptop. He came home early to work from home as the threat of even more treacherous roads loomed. I said, “We’re going out to eat with the neighbors.” He looked up at me and down at the kids and said, “Yes.”

I’ve seen all of you excelling mothers out there with your homemade snow cream, handmade crafts and smocked little painters at easels happily painting the cold day away. Well done. Be sure to tell your troop leader you earned your Pinterest badge.

Don’t mind me. I bitterly say that out of jealousy and shame.

I’m ashamed that I was damn near losing it by the end of today. Don’t get me wrong, now that I’m not working, I love snow days with my kids! I get to enjoy some fun without constantly checking my laptop or phone. I don’t have to wait for “the email” from the boss about whether the office is open, sealing the day’s fate. I don’t have to wonder what ungodly hour I’d be freezing my tail off to tell television viewers to stay off the roads as I ventured out on them. (Yes, I was a news reporter in what sometimes feels like a past life.) 

But practically an entire week of snow days? That’s different. I felt shame that I was seriously sick of my children when evening came. The whining. The tantrums. The crying. Chasing one while peeling the other off of me was exhausting. My daughter looked at me about this time and said, “Can play with the iPad again.” I stopped and looked at her and said, “Yes.”

She looked surprised. That’s when it hit me. Sometimes you just have to make it a “Yes Day. ”

“Mommy can I watch another movie?”

Yes

“Can I have another cookie?”

Yes

“Will you open this for me?”

Yes

An entire bag of blocks gets dumped in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Yes, that happened. I’m letting it happen.

“Can we eat pizza for lunch?”

Yes

I watch as he feeds the dog cheese from his highchair.

Yep. I just let it happen.

I didn’t make it enough of a “Yes Day. ” I didn’t pick my battles. I let it get to me. Of course Yes Days can’t happen every day. I would raise spoiled little assholes that would still be demanding I open applesauce pouches for them after college. But, sometimes? On some snow days? For my sanity? Yes. It’s okay to have a Yes Day. It’s even okay to toast to Yes Days with a drink. Cheers to spring being a few weeks away.

drinking beer on a snow day

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If I Win- February 7, 2015

Saturday, February 7th, 2015

I gave my babies a bath and put them in their pajamas. That’s my favorite. When they’re all fresh smelling and still a little damp in clean pajamas. I promised them a treat because Mama needed to run a quick errand. I got my jammied babies Munchkins from the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru for a Saturday night treat and spent two more dollars. Two dollars for the chance.

Power ball ticket

The Powerball jackpot is $380 million tonight. I’ll battle those odds. People always say, “what they would do if they won.” I’m talking about what I would do immediately, in the 24 hours after finding out I had the winning numbers. If I win tonight, this is what I would do:

1. Call Greyson and repeatedly check the numbers. (He’s traveling.)

2. Make him come home.

3. Put the ticket somewhere really close to me and try to sleep.

4. Call the lottery office in the morning, but they may not be open or answering calls. I don’t really know how that works.

5. Go to church, thank God, try to get my head straight and not tell anyone else.

6. Treat the kids to Chipotle for lunch because, I mean, come on, we’re millionaires, baby!

7. Talk to Greyson about hiring a lawyer and financial adviser.

8. Hopefully go to the lottery office if it’s open. I think you may have to wait until Monday.

9. Try not to tell anyone.

10. Go to the Lululemon store and get me some new work-out clothes. I feel like a lottery winner should get to splurge on the $90 workout pants she’s had her eye on.

11. Email and call Dave Ramsey. I think we’ll need all the financial advice we can get.

12. Find out from the lottery office if I can be anonymous. I’m really not interested in telling anyone or doing a press conference. Let me be clear that as a former reporter I am super-pro media, but if I can get away with not going public, I will.

13. Take the kids home for naps and hope Greyson is home by this time. I imagine he’d be on a plane immediately.

14. Start making a list of things to pay off. Our washer and dryer. I’m sick of that bill. Suck it HH Gregg. I’m a millionaire! Gimme a new TV. I’ll pay in cash.

 

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