Breakfast conversation...

   As my friend Sandra's due date approaches, important things must be handled...you know, like last minute pedicures. So after car pool drop off, we hit a local nail salon, sat back, and enjoyed a little treat.  As we looked at our watches, we realized we might even have enough time for a quick breakfast as well.  We head over for an extremely classy breakfast at the local Waffle House.  It's the little things in life, like waffles, that make things better.  Sandra is ready to have this baby.  She wants it out.  She has served the eviction notice, but this kid has yet to oblige.  I have reminded her that they are much lower maintenance on the inside.  On the inside, they just make our clothes fit funny.  On the outside, they are much more demanding.  Of course, having a parasite(albeit a cute parasite) living inside you is far from comfortable at this point as well.  When the time comes, I am supposed to be her labor nurse.  When you are in the field, it is very important to line up your delivery team before hand.  Find people that you trust, like, and are pretty sure will  never mention your girly parts or their condition during labor ever again.  For this reason, I am on call for her delivery until it happens.  So here is how our discussion over the check for our break fast went...


(Waitress drops the check on the table, we both reach for it)
Me "Let me get this, I am sure I owe you one at this point."
Sandra "Yeah no, I am getting this one (snatches the check)"
Me (reaching for the check) "No, I should be spoiling you."
Sandra "You have to see my vagina soon.  I am pretty sure I owe you breakfast..."
Me "I didn't know that was a one for one exchange...Then again, that was kind of how it worked back in college..."
Sandra (laughing and shaking her head)
Me  "You know, if that is the case, there are a lot of women in the metro area that owe me breakfast..."

Mother's Day Reflections...

Mother's Day 2013

    I am really not sure when it happened...They aren't babies anymore.  Every cliche is actually true.  The fat little hands are disappearing.  They are long and lean.  They play pretend and have imaginary friends that live in Europe.  Luxembourg more specifically...  Leave it to my kid.  They have conversations, say insightful things, and give fabulous hugs, but they are no longer babies.  I am moving into a new phase of motherhood and I can't help but take a little time to mourn some of those sweet baby things.  Like the little fat rolls on their wrists and legs that I used to love to kiss and tickle.  Their baby hair is finally disappearing.  It is getting fuller and darker.  This month, my baby turns four.  Colin is headed to elementary school, complete with a Kindergarten evaluation.  I get to experience my first maternal test anxiety.  I want him to do well.  I want them to know how smart my little guy actually is.  I hope they can look past his quirks, like imaginary European friends, and see the wonderful, snuggley little guy that he is.  I hope he makes friends easily, and that this transition will be easier for him than me.  I am afraid...there, I said it.  I am afraid of him being gone all day.  I am afraid kids will be mean to him.  I am afraid that his teacher won't like him.  Why?  I have no idea.  He is an awesome kid.  He is going to do well, but yet, it is so hard to let go.  So hard to know that he will be with his teacher more than with me every weekday.  A natural progression, yes, but difficult none the less.

   My sweet little girl is so big and full of personality.  If I had to choose one word to describe her, it would be Happy.  Her smile is simply infectious.  There is no way to see it, and not smile back.  She is bubbly, fun, makes friends easily, and is super smart as well.  Not that I am partial or anything...She is determined and yet somehow seems to stay completely in her own world.  My fears for her are that she won't be able to focus like her brother.  Colin sits and performs tasks easily.  Molly is more like me.  Easily distracted by bright shiny objects or squirrels.  I hope with time, some of this trait fades, but I fear she will battle it her whole life. My fears for Molly are different.  I hope she always knows how beautiful she is, no matter what the tag in the back of her pants says.  I hope she learns to embrace her curly hair, and not fight it every day of her life.  I hope she learns to channel that big personality into success in her personal and career life.  I hope she continues to laugh and smile and be the comic relief for everyone around her.  I hope I don't pass on my insecurities...

   One more year...then they are both off to full time school.  I am moving on, and I didn't even realize it was happening.  On to the next phase of driving to soccer, ballet, band, whatever they choose.  Helping with homework that doesn't involve fingerpainting.  Today, today I am weepy.  My babies are growing up.  No more diapers, pacis, and bottles.  That is, unless I borrow one from a friend...sometimes those are the best kind anyway.  Onto answering questions, becoming a human thesaurus, and teaching them how to be awesome little kids.  Luckily, they seem to have a natural proclivity for that.  Bye bye toddlerhood, hello elementary school.  I have one last summer of them both to myself.  Get ready for extra snuggles, pictures, and playdate awesomeness.  Summer 2013, here we come.  Hug your babies.  Enjoy every minute, because time really does just fly.

Night time bathroom surprise...

   Picture it, 2:30 am, and I need to pee.  I don't want to get out of bed, but it appears my bladder has won the battle.  I stumble out of bed, sit in the dark, as one will do in the middle of the night, and begin to urinate. Before I even finish peeing, my husband has flung the door to the bathroom open, and turned on all of the lights.  Our conversation went some thing like this...

Me "What the Hell??"
Mike "Dear God, what are you doing in here?"
Me "What do you think I am doing?"
Mike "You must have really needed to pee..."
Me "Ummm, yeah.  Hence me sitting in here at 2:30 am.  Why?  What are you doing in here if you don't mind my asking?"
Mike "I thought we had a leak, and that the water from the storm was coming inside."
Me "Nope, just peeing.  Can you shut the door please?" Shaking my head

  Sadly, I couldn't get back to sleep before 4 am.  For future reference people, if you hear water rushing in your bathroom, it is probably just your spouse peeing.  Do Not scare the crap out of them by running into the bathroom to save the day.

There has been a breach in the integrity of my undergarments...

   It has been humbling enough to have to convince myself that I "want" new jeans, that  happen to be a size larger than the ones I was wearing earlier this year.  I just want a different look, not that I could seriously use the space...I mean, these jeans just run small right??  That is why I had to get a 12 instead of a 10...Amazing the mind games that we women play with our brains.  But over the last 2 months, I have lost three bras.  Sure, I was aware they were getting a little too small, but the stupid underwire actually snapped under the pressure.  One of them broke while I was working.  I heard the sound, and suddenly felt much less "secure." I told my coworkers that "there may be a breach in the integrity of my undergarments...I think I need to go home."  My manager was not amused.  The second and third bra died here at home.  Time of death, 10:23 pm, cause, ginormous breasticles.  Dear God, I guess it is time for a trip to Victorias's Secret.

   Taking two small children with you while running errands is challenging any day, but bra shopping??  You have to be kidding me.  We get into the car with promises of the Mickey Mouse Store and Monkey Joes after our mission is complete.  I attempt to explain to both children what we need to shop for, and that it may take some time.  I beg them to behave, bribe them with promises of treats and Monkey Joes, and start towards the mall.

   Molly is the handful in stores.  She hides in displays, runs in the opposite direction, and tends to be distracted by bright shiny objects.  Colin, however, is the king of very loud, vocal observations.  This in itself could be embarrassing in a store full of lingerie.  We enter Victoria's Secret, and I couldn't help but think that perhaps her "secret" is that children should not be allowed through her doors.  Molly looks up at the never ending wall of bras and says "Oooohhhh...Mommy.  Look at all of the boobies."  She immediately lights up like a kid in a candy store. Or maybe, a girl in a lingerie store...She runs from display to display picking bras for mommy.  She brings me a rainbow of bras.  Honestly, the girl has good taste, but has no awareness that they come in a variety of sizes.  I put her finds back on the rack, and instruct her yet again, not to touch anything.

    I grab several bras in my current size, and a few in a larger cup size.  I must say.  I am pleasantly surprised that they have begun to carry this cup size.  Not every girl can afford specialty shops, and I can't help but think I can't possibly be the only one out there wearing this cup size.  My style choices are slightly more limited, but I am able to find a few practical, and one pretty option.  Off to the dressing rooms.  I stand in the back, waiting on a room.  Finally some one comes to unlock the door.  Molly immediately finds the button to call for help, and starts to push it.  I grab her hand, to try and stop her long enough to talk to the clerk.  I explain my current situation, my current size, and how I think I may need to go up a cup size.  She seems doubtful.  I tell her I have stealth breasts.  They are larger than they appear.  So I send her on her way, and she informs me that she will come back in a few, but that she knows the kids are pressing the button.  I stop worrying about Molly and the button...

   Just as I suspected, the larger size fits.  Fabulous, at least they will be more comfortable than trying to fit into the too small bras I have at home.  The clerk returns, and I open the door for her. She is surprised that the larger cup size fits as well as it does, and then says, "You must have a lot of breast tissue under your arms??"  I hesitate after her statement, try not to be offended, ask her opinion about the fit, and watch my daughter bolt to the opposite side of the dressing room.  Oh...Dear...God.  "Molly!! Come back over here right now..."  Molly, turns and giggles, runs again.  The clerk has left, I am topless except for their bra. The door to the dressing room has closed.  Molly gets ready to run again.  I simply don't have time to put on a shirt.  I run after her, snatch her up, and whisper threats of spanking into her ear.  She starts to cry.  Then I want to cry as I realize I am standing in my underwear outside of a locked dressing room door.  Luckily, Colin is on the other side.  He puts down Angry Birds long enough to let us back in.

  I get dressed, and we head out to see if there are any other colors available in the styles that worked for me.  I know I am totally pushing my luck, and that I should run with the three bras I have in my hands, but I decide to tempt fate.  Molly decides to play hide and seek.  I am an unwilling participant.  I can't find her anywhere.  As the panic in my voice increases, a nice woman points to a table of panties that seems to be giggling.  "I think she is under here...I am a teacher, and I have three of my own.  I totally understand."  I come over, thank her, and snatch my daughter from under the table.  I smile, and lean over to threaten my daughter's life.  As I cash out, I realize how little dignity I have left.  I just want to take my underwear and run.  I smile, and explain to the cashier that it is Spring Break, so I had to bring them with me.  My trips to Victoria's Secret during Spring Break used to be so different...

   Off to the Disney Store as promised.  They pick out small toys that I approve, and we wait to cash out.  As the cashier asks if she can get me anything else, I say, "Not unless you have some Valium back there."
She responds, "No Ma'am, we don't(while laughing)."  Me "But I thought this was the happiest place on earth??" I shrug my shoulders, and head out with both children.  At least my breasts will be appropriately lifted while I am working this weekend.  I suppose my mission was accomplished.

So, let me get this straight...

   I think this will be best illustrated with pictures...

Giant, creepy looking Bunny, OK with Molly.  In fact, she called him cute.

Nice old man with candy and promises of gifts, not cool at all.

    I am sure I don't have to explain to you which one would concern me if I were a child.  But we all know Molly marches to the beat of her own drummer.  I was worried about taking them for bunny pictures for a couple of reasons. The first one being that I figured Molly would be scared out of her mind.  The second reason was that I am fully convinced that someone has been slipping my children "speed" behind my back over the past week.  They have been positively vibrating out of their skin.  To say they have been challenging this week would be an understatement.  To whomever has been slipping them the drugs...you may stop now.  While I am sure that it is amusing to watch me struggle, I am quickly losing my sense of humor with the situation.  Or you could at least have the courtesy to slip me a Xanax as well...

   So Sandra and I decided to hit the mall after school for lunch and an attempt at pictures with the giant bunny.  I warned Sandra that the kids were in rare form, but it seemed like it was a better idea than watching them bounce off the walls at home. I should have known that the fact that I actually "lost" Molly in the preschool before we ever left the building was a bad sign.  Sadly, she is getting much better at Hide and Seek. We enter the mall food court, and Sandra can tell right away that Molly is in her own little world.  I spend the entire time reseating Molly, putting her in timeout, shaking my head, and attempting to get both children to eat something.  We finally leave the food court, and I stop for a refill at Chick fil a.  I have a child pulling on both arms, I am dropping my bag off my shoulder, and trying my best to put the lid back on my beverage.  I asked the guy behind the counter if they had any rum in the back.  He of course responded "Only on Sundays Ma'am."  I smiled, and walked away, hoping I hadn't offended the nice employee of the very Christian restaurant.

    Of course, both children messed up their shirts before the pictures, so we had to run into Crazy 8 and pick up a new polo for Colin.  I was able to salvage Molly's with a baby wipe and a little extra effort.  As we are making our way to the bunny, and Sandra observes me chase Molly down yet again, she says "You know, I wouldn't judge you if you drugged them with some benadryl today."  I of course snap back with "I am thinking a crushed Percocet or a Valium in their juice, you are being generous."  Thank God for friends(and readers) that realize when you are joking.  

   While waiting for our turn with the Bunny, Sandra mentions how all of the chocolate, cookies, and ice cream are taunting her.  I laugh and add "That is what is taunting you??   The waistband of my jeans is taunting me."  Needless to say, I am yet again struggling with my weight.  It just keeps packing on, and I can't get motivated to do anything but complain about it.  As you can see, the photos with the bunny went well.  Molly thought he was both cute and fuzzy.  She still stands by the fact that Santa in scary.  Of course, picking out the photos after the fact became very challenging.  Molly pressed buttons on their computers, Colin hit something while she was attempting to make my photo CD, both children picked up every piece of paper they could get their hands on.  I tried to keep my cool while picking my three poses.  As I start to pay the sales girl asks if I would like to donate a dollar to "save the children."  I tell her "Sure, but will that cover saving my own children?? Because they are the ones that are going to need some help..."  Sandra just smiles and shakes her head.

   As I tried to make a relatively graceful exit from the premises, I spot a Starbucks, wishing they served coffee drinks complete with a little liquor to take the edge off of the rest of the day.  I miss my stroller.  Sure it was bulky, heavy, and kind of a pain to steer, but 5 point restraints are a gift straight from God to mommies.  I escaped with both of my whirling dervishes/Tazmanian devils trailing behind me.  Mommy mission complete.  Children are fed, children have played at mall playground, adorable pictures with bunny complete.  I suppose the day is a win.  Even if I required 800 mg Motrin, 50 mg of Benadryl, a giant rum and coke, and a back rub just to get to sleep.  A day in the life of Heidi...exhausting, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.  Well...maybe it would be nice if Molly stopped moving at some point during the day besides when she sleeps.  

   

Adventures with Molly this week...

    As if I needed any more reasons to be self conscious about my body, Molly decided to give me yet another one to ponder.  After getting out of the shower, I was standing in my room looking for some jammies to put on my naked body.  Molly walked up behind me, and started beating on my bottom like it was a set of tom-tom drums.  I was more than a little horrified, but I decided to ask her what she was doing.

Me "Molly, what are you doing??"

Molly "Drums!!"

Me "Molly, that is my bottom, not a drum.  Do you mind?"

Molly "Drums!!!"

Me "Molly...Why are you hitting mommy's bottom?"

Molly "(giggling the whole time) Because it is all wiggly...(giggles some more)"

Me "Well...could you please stop hitting my bottom, it isn't very nice.  It kind of makes Mommy sad."

Molly "Awwww...OK" (walks away with a sad face)

   Of course, last night, I made the mistake of removing the pads from my bra in front of her.  They were extra, and getting on my nerves.  No one in my cup size should need pads the size of throw pillows inside their bra...anyway, she was fascinated.  I placed the pads on the dresser, and she quickly asked, "Mommy, what are Those???(with a tone of awe that can not be conveyed in words alone).  I replied, "Well, I guess they are pillows for mommy's boobies."  I really didn't have a good explanation.  I suppose she will understand one day.  I left the room for a quick trip to the bathroom.  I returned to find my daughter shoving the pads into her T-shirt.  She was giggling, and squishing them together under the fabric.  She was very sad they wouldn't stay under her shirt.  I couldn't help but laugh.

  Finally, as we walked around the grocery store last night, I gave Molly my phone to entertain her for a few minutes.  She is difficult to keep happy in "baby lockdown."  You know, any sort of restraining device...So while she is in the cart, she needs distraction so that she doesn't demand to get down and "help."  Her "help" is always trouble in a store.  Anyway, she was playing games for a little while, and then she switched over to the camera for entertainment.  I was busy attempting to remember what we needed from the store while she was busy snapping pictures.  We had made it to the frozen foods section, when we had our first complaint about the pictures she was taking.  Molly snapped a photo of a man walking by.  He stopped, and felt the need to make a sarcastic comment.

Man "I think she just took my picture..."
Me (unsure if he wants me to apologize) "Ummm, sorry.  She might have."
Man "I suppose it is a good thing I am not in the witness protection program..."
Me (shrugging my shoulders) "Just be glad you weren't naked after your shower like I was the other day when she was taking photos...If it makes you feel any better, I removed the auto upload feature after that incident."
Man (shakes head and walks away)

   He obviously does not have small children...Thank God she is so stinkin adorable :)

Poor girl...and so it begins :)

   Today, while I was picking up the kids at school, Colin told me about a new boy in his "grade."  The boy may not be new, he may just be new to Colin.  He started telling me that now I needed to meet both boys.  He has recently been talking about one little boy in his class that he wants to invite over to play.  We will call him "James."  I am excited that he is making friends, and I want to try and make it happen.  So I start asking about the new little boy he is mentioning. For the purpose of the story, I will call him "Bob." I don't know the little boys, or their mothers, so I would hate to use actual names for fear of offending anyone. Our conversation went something like this...

Colin "Mommy, I want you to meet Bob.  He is in my grade.  And you still need to meet James and his mommy."
Me  "OK, is Bob new?  I haven't heard that name before."
Colin "Yeah...but I don't want him to talk to Molly."
Me  "OK bud, why not?  Did he say something to Molly that you didn't like"
Colin "No...I just don't want Molly to answer him."
Me "Did he ask Molly a question?? Did he say something mean to her??"
Colin  "No, I just think you need to meet him.  He is in my grade.  He shouldn't be talking to Molly.  Molly should only talk to boys who are three."
Me  "OK...What happened Colin?  Is he nice? Is he a new friend?  Do you want him to come over and play too?"
Colin  "Well, I just didn't like the way he looked at Molly. He should talk to big kids, not Molly."
Me "I see...You know, Molly can talk to kids who are 4 and 5 as well.  She has friends who are different ages.  Like Jack and Lila.  They are different ages.  It is OK.  Molly might have friends sometimes that are in different grades."
Colin "Yeah...not Bob though.  He shouldn't talk to her..."

   I have no idea what happened on the play ground today.  I am sure it was completely harmless, but it sure made me giggle.  Poor Molly has a long road ahead of her.  Apparently Colin is already overprotective, and he is only 5.  She may never get to date, especially if that guy is in Colin's "grade."  Glad to know that Mike and I have back up when it comes to that time.