My gift of a love letter to The One and Only Senior Fernando!

Isn't he a handsome fella?

It is February 27th.  And to anyone else it is just a normal day.  But to me, it will forever be my oldest and bestest friend's birthday.

My best friend, I am going to call him "Senior Fernando", only because that is quite possibly the coolest name I can think of, and he would appreciate it.  Senior Fernando and I met when we were both fresh out of kindergarden.  I was the tender age of 6, and was the ONLY girl in the neighborhood.  When I saw a family move in across the street, I was so excited, because not only did I see kid stuff, but I noticed they had 4 kids!  One of them just HAD to be a girl, and close to my age.  But, as I was watching, there was indeed someone close to my age, however not female.    Oh well, I thought, better luck next time.

A couple of weeks later, my neighbor, who was like an aunt to me, which is why we call her "Aunt Barb" even though she is not related in the least, said, "Tiffy, you should meet the little guy next door to me.  He is your age, and you two would have fun together."  I look across the street to see a little boy, walking his two wheeler bicycle.  Walking it.  Not riding.  Walking the bike up and down the street.  THen he would get on, fall off, and walk it some more.  Walk walk walk, get on, fall off, walk walk walk.  "Sure Aunt Barb.  Whatever you say."  I was laughing so hard internally at this boy, he looked ridiculous.

 Later that day, I was introduced to Senior Fernando.

We are so cool

He and I were instantly stuck together at the hip.

We did everything together, and it was the most, best fun a childhood could ever possibly have.  We were together in every grade of elementary school, we had every class together in middle school (except math because he is smart about math and me, not so much).  We were in band together, and french club, and swim team.  We would laugh so hard together about the goofiest stuff. so hard we would cry and our stomachs would hurt.  We would also get so mad at each other, it caused world war three in the neighborhood at times.  We were both, quite possibly, the most stubborn people you have ever met, and fights would last FOREVER.  Like two or three days!  It was terrible.  The name calling, the ignoring each other, it would actually get quite vicious.  But you only get THAT mad at someone you actually care about, right?

We came up with the dumbest games, like "office" where we would literally play like we worked in an office, making paper checkbooks, and briefcases, and credit cards.  We would come up with the most unrealistic businesses.  I was "Tiffany's pots pans and real estate".  I mean, come on, who is going to buy a quality pot or pan from someone who is preoccupied with real estate?  But this was one of our favorite games to play. (along with the required Transformers, Jem and the Holograms, Hot Wheels, and Barbies that we would play.  We were progressive like that.  We did not see gender limits on toys.)

Notice, that indeed, Brigade boy is on duty.

We also had our fair share of embarrassments.  My mom got my hair permed.  PERMED people.  And just on top.  My hair was pretty short, so the top was all curly and the rest was straight.  The SECOND I showed up at school the next day, Senior Fernando started yelling, "Tiffany!  You have a nest on your head!!"  And until that damn perm grew out, I was nest head.  (No freaking grudges or anything Senior!!!!!)

Senior's claim to fame was the fact that he was in Boys Brigade at his church, and he wore that belt, that BLUE belt all of the time, no matter what pants he had on.  Jeans, black pants, it didn't matter.  Brigade boy was on duty.  That and his "Fungi" clothes.  Which I kept calling "Fungus" and he kept correcting me "Fun-guy!  It is a play on words.  It is Fun-guy!"   Sure fungus whatever you say.

We were pretty poor growing up too, so we had limited access to the coolest toys.  Most of the stuff we got was off brand.  Pogo balls were all the rage, and my mom, got what she thought was the closest thing she could find.  The Lolo ball.  This thing was IMPOSSIBLE to use.  It just didn't work. But it didn't matter, because damn it, Senior Fernando and I were going to MAKE that thing work.  Hours we spend falling off of that thing. Power wheels were big too, but of course our families couldn't afford them.  So we took boxes, colored them to look like cars, sat inside them and using our hands, pushed ourselves around and around the dining room table on the hard wood floor.  HOURS we spend doing this. 

We were so close, and so completely platonic, our parents even let us do sleepovers together.  We would run through his living room, and jump on our pillows at the kitchen door and slide clear across the kitchen until his mom made us go to bed.  Then we would stay up until all hours talking and making each other laugh.

Then high school started.  We had a lot of different classes, a few we had together, like english and band, and we were still inseparable.  People later would tell me how much they wished that they had a friendship like ours, and that they were kind of jealous of it.

And then I got my first boyfriend.

God love Senior Fernando, but he pretty much hated every single guy I dated.  I mean, to the point

I was pretty awful at swim team.  Not gonna lie.

that he wouldn't even come hang out with us.  He also wasn't keen on any of my other friends that we were not mutually friends with.  But that is ok, it just made it so that we had to be intentional about our time together.  When  I met the Admiral at band camp, and THANK GOD, Senior Fernando approved!  Because it would have been really awkward to have him in the wedding party standing on the guy's side, if he hated the groom, right?? 

Senior Fernando and I have very very different lives now.   He is single, and is living a completely urban lifestyle, and spends his summers on his boat up at the lake.  I am a mom of 4, and live a completely suburban lifestyle with my van and PTO.  But we ALWAYS make some time for each other.  He has been at every major event in my life.  In college, I had a sort of crisis, and where most people shyed away, or thought best to leave me be, Senior was always there.  Always. Driving though the night to get to my school from his, he held my hand while I cried, he held me close when I sobbed.  He was in my wedding, even though he was pretty sure I was too young, he knew the Admiral was the right guy, and he was so supportive.  He was with me while I was bedrested in the hospital with Your Royal Highness, and even though he didn't know it, he went through the first 6 hours of labor with me while the Admiral was at work, (I didn't know I was in labor either until the next morning), just keeping me company, and talking about everything we always talk about.  We can go for long periods of time without talking, but as soon as we do, it is like no time has ever passed. 

Love you Senior Fernando!!!

So all of that to say this:
Senior Fernando, I adore you.  I am completely blessed to have you in my life.  You are my oldest and dearest friend.  I know we don't see each other as much as we should or would like to, and our lives are crazy different, but I love you so much and you will always hold a special place in my heart forever and ever. We will be in an old person home together causing havoc, and quoting movies that none of the 'yougins' have ever seen.   I hope I have been as good a friend to you as you have been to me, and I just want to tell you, Happy Happy Birthday and I hope we can go out and make fun of weird people together soon!  I could really stand to see your face!  Miss you so! 

Admiral, I salute you

Usually if something weird is going to happens with the kids, it happens on my watch. 

For example, I just recently took the kids to Target with me, (To which mini me says, "I love Target mommy.  That is where we buy all of the things."  Yes it is mini me, yes it is.  I am raising that girl right.)  we took the very long and windy road the 20 minutes it takes to get there. As we pulled into the parking lot (the very crowded Saturday morning parking lot) I realized I had left the diaper bag and my purse on the console table at home.  So we took the very long and windy road back the full 20 minute drive to the house, picked up the bag, and drove the whole windy 20 minute drive back to Target, stopping at Tim Hortons for some Timbits for them, and an iced capp for Your Royal Highness and myself.  (Yes I let the kid drink coffee once in awhile.  No judging.)  As we get into Target, we are going up and down all of the isles, because that is what I do. I want to see EVERYTHING, and as we get to the toy department, Little Man, who has been sitting in the cart, looks green.  Before I could even ask, he opens his mouth, and I do what any mom does, and puts her hand under his mouth just in time to catch the barely used doughnut that comes flying out.  But hands can only hold so much, so the cart, the twins shoes, and the floor also get hit.

 I look and see a glorious sight, an angel in a red shirt is just a couple of isles away from us.  So I say, "Highness, get the man in the red shirt! Quick!!"  He is panicked, "Who?  Me?"  "YES!!! GET HIM NOW!!!!"  He runs over, but the wonderful man had already heard me, and he was coming our way.  Fortunately we were literally right in front of a clean up station, and he pulled out paper towels, and trash cans and that sawdust stuff.  Then a very nice sympathetic mom stopped and handed me wet wipes and sanitizer (THANK YOU so much nice mom.  You seriously don't know how much that meant to me!)  Apparently Little man had been riding around a little too much, and got motion sick.  But like I said, the weird stuff always happens to me. 

Until yesterday.

It was a holiday, and I didn't have to babysit.  So I made a doctor appointment I had been meaning to have.  His Royal Highness was due for a med check at his pediatrician about the same time, so since the Admiral was on second shift, he said, "I will take him to the appointment, while we are gone, you can do the grocery shop, and I will meet you at the grocery and we can switch cars and you can go to the doctor's and I will take the kids to lunch, and put them down for nap.  After your appointment you can do the Costco run and have some time alone.  How does that work?"  DOES IT EVER!!!! 

So we did the grocery shop (because Costco doesn't have EVERYTHING you know.)  and I got the littles some cookies.  We finished early, so we sat in the parking lot, eating cookies, and watching Sesame street in the van.  Pretty soon, The Admiral pulls up and jumps in the passenger side.  "I was thinking, we should just double up the shop and then you don't have to do the Costco thing every two weeks, you can just do it once a month.  I know you hate it, and really so do I."  I heartily agree and jump into his car and went for my appointment. 

As I was leaving the doctor's, I call him.
"Where did you go for lunch?"
"Oh I met your sister and took them to Max and Erma's.  They ate a lot.  We are headed back for nap now. " 

I get to Costco, and start doubling up on everthing.  Then I thought, "Well, maybe he didn't mean now.  Maybe he meant next time.  Better check.  Because this is a crap load of food for me to lug around alone."  I Texted him.  He replied very curtly:

"No.  Don't double up,."

I reply to him, 'But I thought you wanted to only go once a month?"
His response,"I don't have time to fight with you now.  Thumbellina threw up, and I am cleaning up the mess." 

Now, I know we weren't fighting, so he must have been under serious duress.  I hurried through the store as fast as I could and then loaded up the car. As I got in, I called him.

"Hey.  How is it going?  You done cleaning?"
"Yeah, sorry.  It was everywhere.  We came back from lunch and they wanted a cookie. (Umm, I probably should have told him they had already had some in the car.  Ooops).  So they are at the table, and I give them their cold medicine, and all of a sudden Thumbelina says, 'there is something in my throat' and then proceeds to lose her lunch all over herself and the table.  As I pick her up to get her to the sink, of course the dog is under foot, because he has to be right in the middle of things and so she gets him right in the face and all over his back.  And naturally we are on the wood floor and she doesn't hit the flooring, she hits the rug."

 But he had lost me at the part about the dog.  I was trying to keep from laughing out loud, but I was having absolutely no luck.  I was howling.  "And of course what does the dog want to do? He starts shaking, hamburger and hot dog and fries are flying everywhere."  I can't stand it, I actually had to pull over because I was laughing so hard.  In his voice I could tell he was a little hurt I was laughing instead of sympathizing. So I try to back peddle,
"I am so sorry honey.  That is just awful.  Terrible.  Are you ok, do you need me to bring you anything?"  I am saying all of this through tears and peals of giggles. 
"No, I am ok.  They are all asleep now.  But I had  put the dog in our shower and closed the door so he couldn't shake all over, and Mini me went in there to use the bathroom while I was changing Thumbellina and let him out.  So he was walking around the bathroom trying to shake off the puke on his face, while MIni me was going potty.  I finally got them all down, and gave the dog a bath."
That did it, I was gone.  I had no restraint left.  I had to get off the phone.  I barely get out "Okhoneyseeyousoon." before hanging up.  I was crying with laughter.  I could just picture the whole scene.    

And for bravery in the midst of a crisis, Admiral, I salute you....

A Purchase we will NEVER make.

The other day the Admiral came to me with a question that I physically and mentally rolled my eyes at him about.

"Hey!  You know, next year we are going to have some extra funds.  We should get an RV!  How much fun would that be?  We could go camping all the time in the summer, wouldn't that be great?"

Acca-WHAT???? 

Ok, first of all, having extra funds, always a positive right?  But out of all of the things in the entire world that I would pick to spend said extra funds on, a giant metal tube on wheels, meant for sleeping in at a camp ground is NOT one I would have even put in the running.

There are several things I have boundaries on in my life.  I do NOT go near, touch, look at (even in books) or even want to hear mention of snakes.  At all.  Ever.  Snakes are my red zone area.  You come at me with snake talk, and I will run away, and then come find you in your sleep and do mean things to you.

I do NOT like to be tickled on the feet.  You will loose your hand and possibly an eye if you try.
Pedicurists be wary, you touch me too light, you are getting your face dunked in the little foot hot tub.

I do NOT like bugs.  One bug, ok.  I can deal with one bug.  You get multiple bugs around me, and I go into full panic mode.  Don't even get me started on bees.  Well, not so much bees, but their evil look alike twin, the freakin yellow jacket.  God, even the name sounds awful doesn't it?  Who wears a yellow jacket ever?  That alone makes them jerks.  Yellow jackets.  Hey, the 90's called, they want their jacket back.

I do NOT like to sweat, or be too hot, or be in the humidity.  Please see my earlier post about exercise for my hatred of sweat and what it does to my body.  I do not like to get too hot, because I sweat.  And I do not like humidity because, well, have you ever seen the Drew Barrymore movie, Firestarter?  Yeah, that is my hair when it is humid.  And the heat that is dispensed from my body when I get too hot could most likely start a fire.  Summer is not my friend.  It isn't.  Bathing suits, and tank tops, all they do is make me miss the body that I lost after I had kids.  Thank you summer, you are a jerk.

So with all of these in mind, WHY in God's earth would I want to spend money, and a LOT of money, on a vehicle that would be for the sole use of putting me right in the midst of all of those things (with the exception of tickling of feet) that I despise so much???  I feel like he doesn't even know me despite the fact that we have been together since my junior year of high school.  And you know what else?  I don't like sleeping in the same room as my kids!  And we would all be holed up in this giant test tube, unable to get away from each other for days on end.  God forbid it rains!

 I can't stand camping.  I feel like Jim Gaffigan said it best, "If the outside is so great, they why are all

of the bugs trying to come into my house?"

Needless to say, we are not getting an RV.  Nope.  Sorry Admiral.  I am with you most things, but we will have to agree to disagree on this one. 

I mean, really, ME?  The queen of air conditioning? The girl who only ventures outside when the temperature ranges between 50 to 78 degrees out? Owning an RV like an outdoorsy girl?  (All you all who know me, feel free to laugh maniacally at this point. )

Lets be honest for a minute

So I am going to let you all in on a little secret that I don't normally share with everyone.  Come here, come on closer, lean in and I will whisper it to you.  I am not the perfect wife and mother I let you all think that I am. 

I know. I will pause while you gasp at that revelation.



I know you are shocked.  I know I probably have let you down with those words.  But here is another secret I will let you in on.  Psst...I don't care anymore.

See, the thing I have come to realize lately, is that we all put waaaay too much pressure on ourselves to be awesome.  I know people blame the media, but you know what?  We wouldn't buy into the crap they sell if we didn't already think about it, every minute, of every day, all the time.  I don't need the media telling me I need to have the cleanest house, smartest, best dressed, most well behaved kids, sparkliest dishes, coolest crafts for my kids, best photos, and most awesome memories than all of the other moms.  I already put that pressure on myself daily!  They are just adding frosting to the crazy cake I have already baked for myself! 

So this weekend, as I held my daughters head over the toilet as she vomited for the umpteenth time, and then the power went out leaving us in the compelte darkness, so that she missed the toilet, and vomit landed on my sock, I came to the most wonderful truths in the entire world.  I am going to share them with you:

1. I can control almost absolutely nothing in my children's lives.

Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  We delude ourselves to think that we can.  We teach them manners, and life skills like dressing themselves,  sign them up for classes to hopefully teach them the meaning of teamwork,  feed them the best food that will nourish their little bodies, and hover over them as if their existance is completely hinged on the interaction during a play date that is happening in our house.  But you know what?  We can teach them manners, but chances are, when you are out in public, they are going to burp, fart, use their fork as a weapon and spill your glass of wine.  When you teach them to dress themselves, they will realize they have other options for clothing than what you laid out for them, and will most likely throw a tantrum if you don't let them wear that pink furry long sleeve shirt, purple polka dot skirt, striped leggings, and cowboy boots and it is 98 degrees outside.  You will sign them up for a basketball class, only to have them take themselves out of the game and lay on the floor under the basket in protest when the coach tells them  "Not yet son".  And the wonderful food you make daily?  I can tell you from experience, little to none of it makes it into their body most of the time.  Especially if you are packing their lunch for school, because they are just going to trade those peaches for a cupcake with their friend at the lunchtable. And that playdate?  Yes Johnny got his feelings hurt, but he won't remember it an hour from now. 

2. My house will never be clean

I can try.  I can give it the most valiant effort that I can, spend a whole entire day, week, or month completely cleaning and organizing and pairing down and weeding out all of our closets, and cupboards.  I can scrub all of the counters and sinks and bathtubs and showers until they shine, I can do every single load of laundry until my water bill is astronomically high.  But I will turn around and see in my wake almost EVERYTHING I have done, undone.  The sink I washed?  Cheeto fingers are all over the handles and basin.  The closet in the hall I just cleaned out and neatly hung all of the coats and scarves?  My kids went outside to play in the snow and I now have a huge pile of snow clothes all over the floor with the lovely addition to puddles of melted snow on my sparkly clean hardwood floor.  My kitchen island I just completely decluttered, is now completely covered with homework papers, mail, empty soda cans, and crayons.  And do not even get me started on the laundry, as Your Royal Highness apparently needs to change his clothes 11 times a day and is too good to wear the clothes that he had on for literally one hour, again after it has been worn.  I vacuum, the dog sheds.  I do all of the dishes in the house, my son brings me dishes he has been hoarding in his room.  I wipe smudges off the wall, and they go behind me and the smudges are back.  My house will never ever ever ever be clean while they are living here. I will never have that sense of being done.

3. I will never be Martha Stewart.

I like to do crafts.  I like to make things.  I gaze at Pinterst for hours on end and look at all of things things I would love to do and make.  And I try to do some of them.  They never turn out the same.  I had my kids paint big boxes so we could decorate them like a car, and then have a drive in movie that night.  I had visions of us them giggling, eating popcorn and watching a movie while lounging in their little perfectly decorated car boxes with headlights and bumper stickers, and license plates and cool little details.  I was delusional.  Oh we painted them alright.  And their clothes, and bodies and feet, and about halfway through two of the little ones got bored and gave up, so their cars are only halfway done.  The oldest decided to make his into a tank, complete with red solo cup cannon, and who knows what else but it is almost completely covered in blue painters tape.  He also refused to paint it because he felt it would take time away from all of the guns and ammo he wanted to put on there.  Oy vay.  So we have the movie, and sitting nicely in their cars, eating their popcorn lasted for all of 5minutes.  LIttle man, who really isn't even old enough for full length movies, was up and running around like a maniac spilling popcorn, and bugging all of the others who wanted to actually watch the movie, pulling off his older brother's solo cup guns, and dumping popcorn on his sister's head.  I watch in defeat as the paper plate "headlights" are torn off and used for weapns against each other. 

4.  I am not the picture of patience, and will never be one of those soft spoken moms.

I am loud.  I am a loud person, and I have just come to accept it.  I have to talk over these people everyday, all day long, and I am sorry, I just can't shut it off ever.  I also do not have the patience I should to be the mother of a tween, and two preschoolers and a toddler.  I get snappy when I am tired.  I snarl if they don't stay in bed at night.  I only can wait so long for them to "do it myself!!"  I tend to pick fights with the Admiral when I am frustrated, only so I can actually have a verbal battle with someone who can battle back, and I don't feel guilty about being sarcastic to.  I am not proud of this, but it is a truth none the less. I tend to yell a lot, sometimes because I feel they can't hear me, but mostly because they JUST WON"T LISTEN!!!  I guess I think if I say it louder, they will do it, instead of ignoring me and continuing to do what ever the hell it is they are doing instead of listening to the one who birthed them.

So there you have it.  My life truths.  It is actually a huge relief to say them aloud, and share them.  Because chances are, I am not alone.  Chances are there are others of you out there, like me, who are loud, and yell, and lose their cool, and  are bad at executing crafts, and have clutter and messes, and have furniture that doesn't match the drapes or plates that are all the same, or enough spoons for everyone, or can't get their kids to eat anything but cookies, nutella, and fruit (if you can get them to eat the fruit.  All of a sudden Mini Me is on a fruit hiatus.)  But the nice thing is, even though I have these truths, they are truths, not absolutes.  I can work on changing the parts I want to change, or just accept the parts I can't.  And there is going to come a time in my life where my kids aren't around to mess up the clean I do, or are too old to boss around as to what to eat or how to act.  And I will have time to craft to my heart's content.  But then, I won't have them here 24/7 anymore.  I won't be a full time mom anymore.  So I think for now, I will just accept my truths, love my kids, and do my best, and if that makes me less than someone else, I just don't care.  I am me, and this is my life, and I am happy in it.  And you should be happy in yours too.  Dont let yourself compare yourself to anyone else.  They do not have your life.  Your life is yours and yours alone, and you are the only one you have to answer to.  I have something I say to myself daily, and I want to share it with you.

"You would never dream of saying some of the things you say to yourself to anyone else.  Why dare say it to you?"

Love to you all moms and dads.  You are enough.  Don't let anyone, including yourself tell you any different.