So we are back from our trip to Great Wolf Lodge, the indoor water park where we enjoyed all the uninspired looking Pennsylvanian teens covered in inspirational tattoos (NEVER A FAILURE, ALWAYS A LESSON!) and their inappropriately drunk parents*, that come with the all-inclusive water park pass. We were upgraded, last minute, to the Vomit Package, that included my nine year-old covering the floor of our suite with half-digested chicken nuggets and smiley face fries at four in the morning.
Seriously, universe, what have I done to deserve this winter?
But today is a new day. In fact today is Mardi Gras, or if you want to be religious about it, Shrove Tuesday, the last day before Lent begins tomorrow. My kids and I mark this day by gorging on whatever we are giving up for Lent. H was obliging enough to stock me up and clear out the CVS of any marked down Valentine's chocolate. #2, giving up something for the first time, has consumed almost an entire box of Frosted Mini-wheats (she's giving up any kind of sugar cereal, and, sadly, that's as sugary as it gets around here), and #1 eye's are going to fall out from playing so much Wii. We also have pancakes for dinner since, as I learned two years ago, that's a traditional, Christian, Mardi Grasthing to do. I use it as an excuse to not cook and take the kids to IHOP. Thanks Jesus!
With Mardi Gras coming hard on the heels of V-Day, I got to thinking about these little holidays and how important they are. You hear a lot of people (mainly men), complaining about supposed "Hallmark holidays", occasions that didn't exist a hundred years ago and seem to have been created solely to sell greeting cards. While Mardi Gras can not be put into this category, being religiously necessitated partying, and all, others crowed about for their lack of meaning are, obviously, Valentine's Day, Mother's and Father's Day and St. Patrick's Day. Wel, St. Pat's is religious, but only in the most tangental way, to relieve our Catholic guilt over our binge drinking.
A major complaint of these holidays is the idea of being "forced" to express one's self on a specific day, when the persecuted claims to do so year 'round. First, I call bullshit. Really? How many of us regularly take our moms out for over-priced Eggs benedict and tell her how grateful we are for all she's done? We SHOULD, but we don't. Same goes for the other days. So why not take advantage of the reminders shoved in our faces via TV, and internet and ENJOY telling our significant other you're so glad she still puts up with your nonsense and/or he still thinks you're attractive despite the fact you sleep with a wrinkle-preventing sticker on your forehead every night? Second, stop being such a non-conformist pill and get on board. If it were National Be Mean to Someone Day, I'd understand opting out. If yo're complaining over an opportunity to be nice to someone, you have a problem.
The real reason I love these celebrations is because they are what make life fun, and in the bleak days of mid-winter, where every day seems a carbon copy of the day previous, bearable. Just another winter Tuesday, becomes a special day to have chocolate chip pancakes for dinner and a few laughs. Isn't it nice to have little things to be excited about, even if it's hanging up plastic shamrocks and making soda bread? What' wrong with getting excited over the litte things? The Super Bowl, the Oscars, May Day, summer and winter solstice - why not use them as an excuse to have a party or at least a glass fo wine?
Life is too short to be boring. If it's possible, why can't every day, be a celebration of something?
,
*Just because they serve alcohol at a water park, it doesn't turn it into a NASCAR tailgate. It's called self control people.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Friday, February 17, 2012
Reasons I have not written in so long:
1. The construction has begun on our bathrooms, and I have been rocking in a corner at all the dust and debris in my house.
2. I went to the Grammys to figure out why Taylor Swift can sound normal when recorded, but sounds like a freshman boy in a high school talent show when singing live.
3. Two days after I last wrote, I was hit with the kind of flu where all you can do is lie on the couch, crying at your own patheticness. The kind where you look so awful your contractor brings you chicken soup.
4. I began, in earnest, my campaign to end to usage of "amazing". It's the new "awesome" people, and we will be mocked for it in movies decades from now.
5. With our one shower out of commission, I have been too busy dragging myself and the kids around New Jersey looking for places to cleanse ourselves. Not wanting to take any longer than absolutely necessary in any one home willing to welcome me in to bathe three children, my own showers have been briefer than ever. I can now braid my leg hair.
6. After seeing signs to "RESERVE NOW!', I was too busy wondering who actually goes to Outback Steakhouse for Valentine's Day. Because nothing preps you for a night of lovin' more than a giant fried onion and a side of beef.
7. I have spent the last week searching New Jersey for fixtures to create turn on the century bathrooms, to match my turn of the century house, trying to convince merchants at lighting, tile and plumbing stores that, no, I am not, in fact, one of the Housewives of New Jersey, and no, I don't want every surface covered in gold marble tile and/or gold crown molding.
8. I've been listening to "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" on constant loop.
9. I was busy helping T get ready for his eight day trip to Brazil, that was to include Carnival celebrations such as dinners, a ball, and going to the Mayor of Rio's box for the parade. Oh, and the kids would be off from school while he was gone.
10. I spent the week wandering around The Gap, wondering if they would ever again sell jeans without holes or odd weathering.
11. Deciding I had to get out of the house with T away, I was too busy planning a trip for the kids and myself to Great Wolf Lodge, an indoor water park and hotel, wondering, after I entered my credit card info, if I would return sane and/or with all three children.
12. I was distracted trying to eat my way to the bottom of the Valentine's chocolate T was smart enough to send, before Lent begins next week.
13. I was on the phone with T the first three days his trip, as he was struck down by the stomach flu on his flight over and wound up coming home early. Just in time for Little Man to throw up on him yesterday in greeting.
14. I have been in shock over Ghost: The Musical.
15. I have spent the last twenty four hours marveling that yesterday was the first time a child has vomited on H, while I can't recall every time I've sat still holding a puking child and said to myself, "Might as well save the rug and let her finish."
16. I've been on vacation, drinking wine. watching Sex and the City reruns on my ipad on the beach at the Four Seasons Hawaii.
Hint: I'm packing my bathing suit and it's not #16.
2. I went to the Grammys to figure out why Taylor Swift can sound normal when recorded, but sounds like a freshman boy in a high school talent show when singing live.
3. Two days after I last wrote, I was hit with the kind of flu where all you can do is lie on the couch, crying at your own patheticness. The kind where you look so awful your contractor brings you chicken soup.
4. I began, in earnest, my campaign to end to usage of "amazing". It's the new "awesome" people, and we will be mocked for it in movies decades from now.
5. With our one shower out of commission, I have been too busy dragging myself and the kids around New Jersey looking for places to cleanse ourselves. Not wanting to take any longer than absolutely necessary in any one home willing to welcome me in to bathe three children, my own showers have been briefer than ever. I can now braid my leg hair.
6. After seeing signs to "RESERVE NOW!', I was too busy wondering who actually goes to Outback Steakhouse for Valentine's Day. Because nothing preps you for a night of lovin' more than a giant fried onion and a side of beef.
7. I have spent the last week searching New Jersey for fixtures to create turn on the century bathrooms, to match my turn of the century house, trying to convince merchants at lighting, tile and plumbing stores that, no, I am not, in fact, one of the Housewives of New Jersey, and no, I don't want every surface covered in gold marble tile and/or gold crown molding.
8. I've been listening to "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" on constant loop.
9. I was busy helping T get ready for his eight day trip to Brazil, that was to include Carnival celebrations such as dinners, a ball, and going to the Mayor of Rio's box for the parade. Oh, and the kids would be off from school while he was gone.
10. I spent the week wandering around The Gap, wondering if they would ever again sell jeans without holes or odd weathering.
11. Deciding I had to get out of the house with T away, I was too busy planning a trip for the kids and myself to Great Wolf Lodge, an indoor water park and hotel, wondering, after I entered my credit card info, if I would return sane and/or with all three children.
12. I was distracted trying to eat my way to the bottom of the Valentine's chocolate T was smart enough to send, before Lent begins next week.
13. I was on the phone with T the first three days his trip, as he was struck down by the stomach flu on his flight over and wound up coming home early. Just in time for Little Man to throw up on him yesterday in greeting.
14. I have been in shock over Ghost: The Musical.
15. I have spent the last twenty four hours marveling that yesterday was the first time a child has vomited on H, while I can't recall every time I've sat still holding a puking child and said to myself, "Might as well save the rug and let her finish."
16. I've been on vacation, drinking wine. watching Sex and the City reruns on my ipad on the beach at the Four Seasons Hawaii.
Hint: I'm packing my bathing suit and it's not #16.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Proud 2 B an Amerikan
No, I didn't drop dead. Well, almost. As I mentioned in my last post, my younger two were sick. Then, of course, my oldest had to get it once the other two were well, since children in the same house can never get sick concurrently, despite your encouraging them to share lollipops (no...really..I've never done that...). So I had been grounded at home with at least one child for almost two weeks when, despite my possibly shortening my life with the amount of bleach I was cleaning with, and sloughing off ten layers of epidermis with all the hand washing, I myself came down with the plague. Experienced as I am with illness now, I knew I needed antibiotics, and like a junky, did not go to my regular doctor, but rather, the urgent care, so I could dupe the poor sucker straight out of med school into giving me a prescription, telling him my kids had all had it, when my strep test came back negative. It was so easy, I wondered if I possibly could have walked out with a dozen Percocet and some Ambien to sell on the black market. Disturbing.
Anyway, while we were home, the kids and I were doing some serious interfacing with technology. I had such cabin fever and had watched Cars 2 enough times to start wondering things like how cars reproduce. By the time #1 was home, I was already pretty drained. So I gave in on an issue we have been struggling with a for a few months now and let her start using her email account. She caught wind of the fact that she had one, after H set up the account for the Kindle Fire Santa brought her, and had been pestering us non-stop for permission to email her pals. What they could possibly have to say to each other after spending seven hours together is beyond me, but I seem to recall my father asking me the same thing in high school after I had been on the phone with my best friend for three hours. But there were boys involved at that point, so there was already complaining to do.
The first night, I had to correct her misconception that email is like instant messenger, as she huffed impatiently, waiting for her friend's reply. Then I had to stop her from using twenty point font, followed by the explanation that typing in all caps is the online equivalent of shouting. Don't even get me started on the emoticons. Oh, why do I know what font she's writing in and that she abuses smiley faces? Because I read her every damn email, that's why. She's nine. Let her get to an age with two digits and we'll talk about "privacy". When her friend did answer her, and she was crafting her response, I looked over her shoulder to see the number two and the letter "B" in her sentence, as in, "It's going 2 b so much fun!!!!!!!!", and a little part of me died. My daughter had become one of the abbreviating masses.
Being the text-a-holic I am, I completely understand the desire to stay within the one hundred and forty character limit, and use these abbreviations myself with my friends. All except "LOL". I don't know why, but it seems so fake to me. Give me a "Ha ha ha" any day. And I understand being in a rush, and texting "np" for "no problem" is all H can do sometimes when he's running to make a train and I'm harassing him to pick up milk (or wine) on the way home. But I think this need to whittle every sentence down to its barest bones is an infection that is going to spread and threaten the very way we express ourselves. Anyone over the age of twenty knows when and when not to use "thx" ot "ttyl". At least we hope. As I have lamented, some of these people think it perfectly reasonable to pull out a phone during a wedding and text. Our children though, are being raised in a world where you're and your can neatly be covered by "ur", and "tonight" is spelled with an "ite". Will these kids even know hoe to write a business email that includes full sentences, punctuation, and no creative use of semicolon and parentheses? Or am I the email equivalent of my father who insists letter writing, cursive and all, is a dying art?
I couldn't help myself. I had to talk to her about it. She knows I read her stuff, so that wasn't an issue. I tried to be diplomatic, but that not being my strong suit, I told her typing that way reminded me of those girls who use "like" all the time and end every sentence with an upward intonation, making it sound like a question and did she want to sound like that? Of course I got a "Moooom" response, but I just had to say it. I know I should let her express herself, but should I let her sound like a dimwit?
In the end, after much haggling, we made a deal. She could sound as dumb as she wanted with her friends (when have I ever been one to mince words?), but when emailing family, she was to use proper grammar and spelling. I figure that's a way to keep her in practice and ensure her college application cover letter doesn't include a single OMG or her expressing her desire "2 B accepted".
God help us all.
Anyway, while we were home, the kids and I were doing some serious interfacing with technology. I had such cabin fever and had watched Cars 2 enough times to start wondering things like how cars reproduce. By the time #1 was home, I was already pretty drained. So I gave in on an issue we have been struggling with a for a few months now and let her start using her email account. She caught wind of the fact that she had one, after H set up the account for the Kindle Fire Santa brought her, and had been pestering us non-stop for permission to email her pals. What they could possibly have to say to each other after spending seven hours together is beyond me, but I seem to recall my father asking me the same thing in high school after I had been on the phone with my best friend for three hours. But there were boys involved at that point, so there was already complaining to do.
The first night, I had to correct her misconception that email is like instant messenger, as she huffed impatiently, waiting for her friend's reply. Then I had to stop her from using twenty point font, followed by the explanation that typing in all caps is the online equivalent of shouting. Don't even get me started on the emoticons. Oh, why do I know what font she's writing in and that she abuses smiley faces? Because I read her every damn email, that's why. She's nine. Let her get to an age with two digits and we'll talk about "privacy". When her friend did answer her, and she was crafting her response, I looked over her shoulder to see the number two and the letter "B" in her sentence, as in, "It's going 2 b so much fun!!!!!!!!", and a little part of me died. My daughter had become one of the abbreviating masses.
Being the text-a-holic I am, I completely understand the desire to stay within the one hundred and forty character limit, and use these abbreviations myself with my friends. All except "LOL". I don't know why, but it seems so fake to me. Give me a "Ha ha ha" any day. And I understand being in a rush, and texting "np" for "no problem" is all H can do sometimes when he's running to make a train and I'm harassing him to pick up milk (or wine) on the way home. But I think this need to whittle every sentence down to its barest bones is an infection that is going to spread and threaten the very way we express ourselves. Anyone over the age of twenty knows when and when not to use "thx" ot "ttyl". At least we hope. As I have lamented, some of these people think it perfectly reasonable to pull out a phone during a wedding and text. Our children though, are being raised in a world where you're and your can neatly be covered by "ur", and "tonight" is spelled with an "ite". Will these kids even know hoe to write a business email that includes full sentences, punctuation, and no creative use of semicolon and parentheses? Or am I the email equivalent of my father who insists letter writing, cursive and all, is a dying art?
I couldn't help myself. I had to talk to her about it. She knows I read her stuff, so that wasn't an issue. I tried to be diplomatic, but that not being my strong suit, I told her typing that way reminded me of those girls who use "like" all the time and end every sentence with an upward intonation, making it sound like a question and did she want to sound like that? Of course I got a "Moooom" response, but I just had to say it. I know I should let her express herself, but should I let her sound like a dimwit?
In the end, after much haggling, we made a deal. She could sound as dumb as she wanted with her friends (when have I ever been one to mince words?), but when emailing family, she was to use proper grammar and spelling. I figure that's a way to keep her in practice and ensure her college application cover letter doesn't include a single OMG or her expressing her desire "2 B accepted".
God help us all.
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