"That's just my Mom"

Monday, I taught Art Masterpiece for Ben's class.  It's quite nice, because he only has twenty kids in his class, and three were out.  We were a cozy little group, and the project wasn't hard, the lecture was easy, and it was fun.

I was talking to the teacher while the kids were doing their thing, and she made me laugh.  I laugh pretty loud sometimes.

I overhear one of the kids say "Who/what was that?"

And I looked up in time to see Ben smile, put his hand on the kid's shoulder, and say, "Oh, it's just my Mom.  She's kinda loud sometimes."  He wasn't embarrassed.  He just accepted it as just being me, beamed in my direction, and went back to his desk.

You know, you expect to love your child unconditionally, without worrying too much about what others might consider faults.

You don't expect that fantastic feeling you get when they reciprocate.  The coolness of it all, that they love you unconditionally as well.

It made my day. 

Almost as much as Audrey made my night tonight.

We were sitting at aikido waiting for the big kids to finish class. 

I had to throw something away, and when I came back to the table, Audrey pipes up:  "Mommy, when you walk, your butt goes back and forth, back and forth." (and she swayed a bit from side to side as she said it) 

In an instant, I mentally checked my gait.  I didn't think I'd been swaying excessively...no, I wasn't....well, not really...holy crap, do I sway too much when I walk?  What kind of message is that for her to learn?  Oy!

In an instant, I got over it.  It was funny, and we were all laughing, adults included.

I mean, there's not a whole lot I can do about it, is there, short of wearing some harness that inhibits the gait?  Where's the fun in  that? lol

Then, at bedtime, it was Nolan and Ryan's turn.

Nolan gets all "eewww" if Mr W gives me a kiss.  So we tucked him in, and I turned up my face <doing my best to give him a nightmare> and Mr W gave me a very quick kiss. 

Nolan goes, "Geez, Bud, that was pathetic.  You call that a kiss?  I don't think you made contact with her for even a 'one-Mississippi'.  Pa-the-tic."  (okay, so maybe it was, but really, we were in front of the boy, so the soap-opera tonsil hockey would be inappropriate) 

The look on Mr W's face was hilarious.  I know I was amused.  He kissed me again, and Nolan remained unimpressed, so Mr W turned the tables on him: "What makes you an expert??  Do I need to talk to your girlfriend?" 

Nolan gets all embarrassed:  "No.  No, don't ask her.  I have my resources."  <stammer, stammer>

He's growing up, my little boy, and it catches me offguard when he says things like that.  I take pride, somewhat, in his sense of humor.  I like to think that I'm passing something of value on to him.  And when he does say something amusing, it makes me smile...because I am.

When I tucked Ryan in, I leaned over to kiss his cheek and whisper the usual goodnights in his ear.  "Goodnight, my sugar."  "Goodnight, my Mommy."  I snuggle my cheek next to his, and then he puts his hand against my head.  "Um, Mommy?  Could you get off me now?  I need to go to sleep."

Oops. <lol> Too much love.

Nah. 

Night out

Okay, so Friday night we went to a Christmas party with the kids.   Parental and all that, even in a dressed-up state.

So there we are, dressed up, for a kids party, and my work party, Saturday night, was a casual, jeans affair. What's up with that?

It was outdoors, um, in an orchard.  We had space heaters around our tables, but I couldn't help but conjure up images of all of us gathered around garbage can fires, warming our hands.  And considering the neighborhood we were in, I wasn't that far off imagining that. 

It didn't matter for long; location nor weather, because we had liquor.  Lots and lots of liquor,and that'll go far in the warmth department, and further in making you forget that perhaps Kevlar under the sweater might have been a good idea.  

Who cares if it was just wine and beer, hey, it's free, and there is no limit.  Just imagine, a bucolic setting, with clear glass Dixie cups filled to the brim each time you went for a refill.  So deceptive, so innocuous, the Dixie cup--you feel like you are just holding a glass of punch.

One coworker, who is a bartender on the side, teased me that four glasses was equivalent to a bottle of wine.  Really?  <giggle> I think I'll have another.

I know I had at least four, but I am certain there may have been as many as six.   When the bartender remembers what you are having, and you don't have to remind her, that can only be a sign that perhaps you have been back maybe one too many times for a refill.  What can I say?  I'm an overachiever. 

As always with these things, there were a couple of glitches...the food--not that great; the bathrooms--unbelievably, there were no lights in them the first time I made the trek.  My friend and I took turns clicking on my cell phone to illuminate the area enough such that we could use it.  I'd have gone in the field, but flashbacks to the first time I ever got  drunk, and did that, prevented me from doing so.  I didn't bring a change of clothes, afterall.

Did I mention the food?

This is important.  I'd not eaten much that day.  Dinner--was bbq.  I'm not against bbq, I like it just fine, but it was so disappointing.  Even dessert was not impressive.  The bottom line, if you haven't made this connection already, is that there was not a lot of food in me, but a lot of drink.

Man, was I ever hammered.

I have to say, I haven't tied one on in well over 10 years.  I've always been pregnant or nursing someone, and Mr W rarely drinks.  I swear, he can nurse one beer over the course of a week.  

I made up for lost time.

I didn't grab any asses (that I know of) and I didn't dance on any tables (I am certain of that) but I was, according to Mr W, quite talkative.   I recall some  blatantly flirtatious behavior that I am sure I will be blushing about at some point.

But I was having fun!  Even if it was frustrating to me, because I kept trying to act normal, instead of just going with it. 

That's ok.  I wasn't acting as normally as I'd imagined.   I mean, who compliments another woman on her hair, as they touch it with their hand at the same time?  Oy.  Sorry, S.  It did look nice.

My big line of the evening was something I told Mr W.  See, I'm sure he was kinda having fun, but not that much fun...  So I wanted to make him laugh:  "Dude, I'm waaay  past "I love you, man" and well on my way to the sorority girls' mating call." <no offense to you delta delta tri gamma pis out there> 

"What?"  

Tilt head from side to side: "I'm soooo dru-uunk!"  He laughed.

All in all, the evening was a good time.  Even when someone decided to have a 'sexy legs' competition, and lined up five of the guys to dance around to the roars of the crowd.   I have to hand it to a couple of them.  It takes a special kind of man to go out there and perform moves better seen around a pole in front of all their coworkers, and slapping your own ass under the influence--well, you know, that's just not something you usually see in the chem prep room. 

Mr W dragged me away at a decent hour.  We had to relieve Jane, who was our babysitter for the evening.  We know that a few hours with our crew is plenty. 

This is where the real fun began.  It took me forever to wash my face.  The kids were thankfully asleep when I got done.  Heeyyy, where's my man?  Oh, honeeeey.... ;p

Things are a little hazier here, but I have to say, my husband is a saint.  I stopped being cooperative at this point, because he wanted me to go to sleep, and well, I had other ideas.  And I spewed forth all kinds of talk to let him know them.

Whoo, boy.  Yeah.  It was bad.

I'm thinking:  Why does he want me to go to bed? It's early!  I'm so awake!  I am fantastic!  I'm a sexy beast!  I'm not sleepy!  No.  I won't put the pjs on...hmphf, fine.  I'll put the pjs on.  <glare, more insanity coming out of my lips>

And my head hit the pillow.

I slept poorly (of course) and when I woke up, I felt a little buzzed still, with a slight headache.

Tylenol is a wonder drug.

Hot water is a godsend.

And caffeine... I was so happy with my cup of espresso-laced hot chocolate,  I probably frightened the coffee guy with my profuse thanks.

No hangover.

I moved on, but not without worrying about Mr W.  I had a feeling I was not going to be in his good graces.

And I'm not.  He says he's not mad at me, but I was definately (and still am, kinda) feeling a chill on Sunday.

So, what did I learn?

A new mantra:  Stay away from the cabernet.

Because that first step, it's a killer.

Bottoms up!

Coming up for air

I'm just coming up for air this evening.  Yeah, there's a pile of laundry to deal with, but I'll get to it.  In a minute.

There's a school project I took on that is pretty time consuming, so somedays are just a blur; before I know it, it's Monday again, and I missed the Six.  That's okay, there's no time limit on this.... 

Saturday Six - Episode 86

1. Is it a "Christmas Tree" or a "Holiday Tree?" 

Oh, for Pete's sake.  It's a CHRISTMAS TREE.  Get over it, and stop trying to ruin everyone's fun.  Changing the names of holidays to make them less offensive is offensive.  "Holiday Tree"?  Please. <eyeroll>

2. When you purchase a DVD, what of the following are you most interested in watching first: the movie itself, the director's commentary, the deleted scenes, the bloopers or the behind-the-scenes documentary, and why?

The movie itself--I bought the movie to WATCH the movie.  I rarely go thru the behind-the-scenes, I mean, really, who has that kind of time?  Deleted scenes...eh, maybe. 

3. What would you most like to accomplish before the year is over?

There are twenty six days left in the year, and you're just getting to this??  Yeah, I have something..and I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you.  :p

4. Take this quiz: After you enter your birthday, you'll be given a lot of facts about your age and astrology: How old are you in dog years?

I'm 5.33.  A younger pup, "still chasing dogs", according to the quiz.  I'm gonna try not to dwell on that too much. 

5. From the same quiz, what does it say your "Life Path Number" is, and do you agree with its description?

I'm a 6.  What did it say?  Oh, yeah: "...the life revolves around the immediate home and family, for this is the most domestic of numbers..."   There's a surprise.   The rest of the description was right on, so I agree. 

6. Do you have a piece of jewelry with your birthstone in it? If so, how often do you wear it?

Yup. Peridot.  I have stud earrings, and I've had them for a while.  I wear them about 2-3 times a week.  Sure, it's kind of a pale, icky, yellow-green, but it grew on me.  Jewels are jewels, lol.

Little loser

Audrey has been really doing well with her potty skills. 

However, she still will have an occasional lapse, where she doesn't leave herself enough time.  Throw in the undies, tights she's wearing with her dress, and her bloomers, and it's a toss-up:  will she make it, or am I doing more laundry?

Today, I was occupied, and she had to go.  "Mommy, I need to go pot-tee." Complete with little shimmy.  "So go," I told her, "you can do it, you know how."

A few minutes later, she comes down the hall.  "I pee on my tights.  I pee on my body. (what she calls bloomers)  I pee on my panties."  "Oh, sweetie.  That's okay, just go change.  Get new ones."

She makes a little face, but turns and walks down the hall.  She's about halfway there, when I hear her utter at herself, kinda under her breath, "I such a loser" in her tiny voice. 

Awww.  My goodness.  I can't let her go, and I feel bad for her.

"Honey, come here."  She comes and I hold her.  "You are not a loser, you are still learning.  It takes time.  It's an accident, and it's okay.  Now go get some dry undies."

I leave out the part about how some grownup boys and girls have trouble making it to the bathroom in time; and about how laughter or coughing can be a woman's worst enemy.  Having her pipe up at preschool about "Mommy said that if you do your 'kay-gells' you won't pee in your panties" probably wouldn't be a good thing.  There will be plenty of time for that kind of talk later.  Afterall, she's only three years old. 

No one is a loser at three years old.

I'll be reminding her of that...as soon as I finish this set.

Ups and downs

There can be lots of ups and downs in my week.

Up:  I got to spend time with the newest niece, now that she's 17 months old, she spent the night last Saturday.  My stepnephew (he's 7) came along too.  It was fun, and they behaved. 

Down:  She proceeded to wake up at 2:15 am, and stay awake until around 4-ish.  And I still had to go to work Sunday.  <yawn>  She was so cute, too, I put her down, thinking she'd go back to sleep; walked out into the hall for a bit...and she whimpered.  Audrey and Ryan were in the same room, and I didn't want her to wake them, so I went in to get her.  She was standing up in the playpen, and when she saw me coming, did a dramatic pratfall and pretended she was sleeping.  How could I ever be upset with that?  So I gathered her up, and we sat in the magic chair, watching some HBO...which was probably not the best thing.  HBO is not necessarily known for their late-night children's programming.   Ooops!  That'll teach me not to put on my glasses...

Up:  Earlier that evening, I was patting myself on the back.  "I can do this,"  I thought.  Extra little ones?  Bring 'em on!

Down:  She climbs on everything.  She nearly choked on a tortilla chip Audrey was "sharing".  And eventually, it was my own little ones who caused me to snap.  All of them talking at once, as I'm trying to feed them, bake cookies, and get Mr W (who, surprisingly, was oblivious to it all, and awaiting his dinner--I still don't know why that happened, but I'll get to it in a minute) a sandwich.  I swear to God, I turned around, paring knife in hand, and said, to Nolan and Ben: "I have a knife, and I will use it.  Get the hell out of the kitchen, right now."  Oh, yeah.  One of my finer moments, as a Mom.....knives and cursing. 

This was followed by a rant I gave Mr W when I went into our bedroom, plate in hand.  "Be advised..." (it's best to use cop talk when I want to really grab his attention) "that someday, I'd like to come home from work, and not punch in for my shift at home.  I'd like to sit on my ass in here and have people bring me food --whatever I request-- and not have to deal with the kids, the dishes, baths and/or any other little emergencies that arise.  I come home, and it's like you're done, it's all-Mom the rest of the day.  Oh, I don't think so...do you know, that the last time I sat on my butt, and you brought me anything I wanted, was after I walked the half marathon, and it's been almost a year???"  (Of course, he's cracking up, at the 'be advised'.  And I'm sputtering, because I can't not laugh when he is.  Son of a bitch, I hate that.  I can't even be mad at him properly--I'm all smoke and mirrors.  If you ever saw/heard him laugh, you'd understand.  It's because of him that I couldn't make it through grace this Thanksgiving, and my Dad referred to me as 'heathen' the rest of the night.  Mr W got the giggles, and so did I, but he shut up, and I couldn't stop giggling.  On the up side again, he did all the laundry when I went to work Sunday, and made dinner Monday night.  Now that's hot.)

Up:  Audrey is going to preschool 4 days a week for the next three weeks.

Down:  She's tired, in the afternoon, in spite of her nap.  She's developed this annoying whine, and makes all kinds of noises when she's crying that I can honestly say are akin to scratching your nails on a chalkboard.  I lose all sense of reason, of patience...yet still try to pull it together, long enough to try to get her to speak, not whine; or send her to her room.  SO TRYING, this new whining thing, that by eight pm, I'm ready to jump and counting the minutes until she's asleep.  Oy. 

Up:  A couple of my coworkers moonlight  as bartenders.  One of them brought me a bottle of tequila last weekend, and it was waiting in my desk.  Whether it was to shut me up, or just out of the goodness of his heart, I don't care, it's a big bottle of free liquor, and there is never anything wrong with that.

Down:  I have yet to take a swig.  The bottle is unopened.  I think I'll remedy that later tomorrow night.  Woohoo, drunken emails and woozy entries.  Let me apologize in advance....

Up:  Mr W has been working.  Alot.  Christmas is coming, so that's great.

Down:  Mr W has been working.  Alot.  It seems like we never see him, and when we do, he's cranky; and that's not so great.

All in all, I haven't really been up to much.  You'd think I'd be able to post something.