I Think I'm Losing My Effn' Mind!

This week, I'm pretty sure I surpassed all my "I-suck-at-this-mothering-thing" expectations.  On Wednesdays, I usually bring my daughter to dance class after school.  This past Wednesday, though, I had a faculty meeting.  Mr. OCD and I swapped duties; he'd escort the princess to dance lessons.

Since the meeting didn't last as long as usual, I figured I'd spend a little time at the gym.  After all, I hadn't been for nearly a month.  Instead, I'd been eating Halloween candy and fried chicken.  I thought I'd do my jelly-belly a favor, and sweat a little.  I went to the gym, tanned, and then had a good work out. 

After that, I went home, started supper, a load of laundry (no GTL is complete without it), and decorating a cute little pumpkin for the contest at baby girl's preschool.  At around 5:20 p.m., G and Mr. OCD get home from dance.  Mr. OCD was pleasantly surprised to see me in the midst of domestication.  It's a rare sight these days.  Any way, he walked into the kitchen and asked about my day.  Then he asked, "Where's E?  Did he have a good day, too?"

My heart sank, my draw dropped, and my stomach did a freakin' flip.  I wanted to puke.  "E??  I thought you..."  Holy crap!  I left my damn son at after-school camp.  It was 5:30 p.m. and his ass was still at school.  Of course, all the Leave It to Beaver moments that we were previously experiencing vanished.

Mr. OCD slammed his keys and pounded his fist on the table.  "You left our son?!?!"

I felt like a complete moron.  It's bad enough to be a failure at motherhood, it's even worse to be reminded of your ineptness by Mr. Perfect (aka Mr. OCD).  I wanted to slit my wrists and offer myself as a sacrifice.  I'm fairly certain, at that moment, anything less would be a disappointment to my husband.  It's not enough to accept your mistakes, apologize, and move on.  No, he wants to rehash it over and over again.  He wants me to offer a kidney or my right hand as retribution.

I really did feel bad about it.  When my son got home, I apologized no less than 150 times.  Of course, he could have cared less.  That was just an extra hour and a half of play time with his friend, Skyler.

Do you think this is a sign of Alzheimer's?  Could I be in the early stages?  I've heard that the signs, though subtle, can appear in your 40s.

Lord, I hope I can remember to turn off my flat iron in the morning!

Ode to My Neglected Second Born

I feel bad.  The number of blogs written about my son outweigh the number written about my baby girl.  At least, the good posts. 

Poor G baby.  The second born.  The independent one who tends to be left alone because, well, she's capable of damn-near anything she sets her mind to. 

It's not that I love her any less.  It's not that I'm any less amazed by her.  Her brother, being the first born, is the one that introduces me to the milestones, though.  I revel in his accomplishments because he's the first.  It's my first chance to revel.  Before him, I had no opportunities to beam with pride over a child reading his first real sentence.  My heart swells as a he tracks each word with his finger.  I want to tell the world!  My baby can read! 

Next year (or maybe even this year knowing little Miss Independent), my heart will still swell as she begins to read.  I'll still beam with pride.  More than likely, though, I probably won't be shouting it from the rooftops.  Well, maybe IRL, but not in Bloggyland.  It's unfortunate, but it's been done.

Today, though, my blog is all about G.  She's the first.  I've never received been in such awe.  Sure, I've had teachers brag on my son.  However, the compliments about her have gone beyond mere compliments.  The comments are pure, out-and-out worship! 

My stubborn, independent, dogmatic little girl is kind and nurturing beyond her years.  Last week, her pre-school teacher stopped to talk to me about her.  The teacher began to tell me about how my little girl helped a special needs classmate.  Every day.  She helped him get on the bus.  She helped him off the bus.  She helped him at school, in the classroom. 

This child, who did not speak, began to speak to my little girl.  The teacher went on to say that the parents of the child even inquired about the magnificent changes in their special child.  Ms. Teacher, a wonderfully humble lady, refused to take credit for his accomplishments.  Instead, she told those parents about the bond their son had developed with my G.

As I continually question my parenting style, I forget to recognize the things that are right with my family.  I was glad to be reminded of how good my kids really are.  Both of my children are extremely kind. 

My son would give anyone the shirt off of his back.  And has on more than one occasion.  He may not share with his sister, but he will give his most prized possession to his best buddy of the day.  G's more discreet with her generosity, though.  She is more apt to help someone in need rather than shower her friends with gifts.  She has a beautiful, kind heart nonetheless.  And in the grand scheme of things, isn't that all that matters??? 

*insert deep sigh*  I am one very proud mama.   

Disney Vacation Tips

My blogs have been sparse lately as I've been busy preparing for yet another torturous vacation at Walt Disney World in Florida.  My kids are 4 and 5, and have been to Disney World three times already.  Mama's finally taking a stand!  We will JUST SAY NO! to Disney...at least until my short-term memory has erased the horror.

If you are looking for tips along the caliber of Frommer's, stop reading now.  But if you are looking for ways to merely survive one hellacious week of over-priced entertainment in the warmest location on the North American continent, look no further.  LB is here to help.  And you are very welcome.

Tip #1 - Tell your kids the place was destroyed by a hurricane, tornado, earthquake, meteorite...anything!  If they buy it, you don't even need to read the other tips.

Tip #2 - Screw comfortable shoes; rent a fat-lady scooter or a wheelchair.  Hell, everyone else does it and they get premium seating at all the shows!

Tip #3 - Sunscreen, sunscreen, sunscreen!!  People, if you are white as a cotton ball, please use lots of sunscreen.  I saw a family at the water park that probably needed hospitalization.  They were burnt UP!

Tip #4 - Be sure to pack the happy pills.  It may even be necessary to up your dosage.

Tip #5 - Fight the urge to plan!  Don't do it!  You'll spend your entire trip stressed out and 5 minutes late to everything.

Tip #6 - If you own a gun, leave it at home.  More than likely the urge to shoot someone will be too hard to resist.

Tip #7 - If you do the dining plan, be sure it includes alcoholic beverages.  At least if you are shit-faced drunk, you won't feel bad when you yell for the fat-ass, slow-walking family in front of you to "MOVE OUT OF THE FREAKIN' WAY!"


Tip #8 - If possible, leave the kids at home.  Just go with your spouse or your boyfriend or both.  Maybe then you can actually enjoy the place.

Tip #9 - Forget about your dietary restrictions.  Healthy options are available, but why bother???  They've got the best desserts, ice cream, candy, and rot gut, saturated fat-filled, artery clogging meals in America!  If you are going to spend $50 a person on a meal, better get your money's worth.

Tip #10 - If you think you can do everything in 5 days, book your vacation for 7-8 days.  Disney is so much more enjoyable when done in small doses.  Your kids will thank you, your spouse will thank you, and the corporate shareholders at Disney will thank you!