Mommy needs a tissue.

Grief is a weird thing.

There are no rules.  There is no handbook on "this is the way you are supposed to handle a death in the family" and it be in black in white.

There are suggestions from experts.  There are stages, but no one follows them to the letter.  It is a bizarr and weird and sad, and happy time all at the same time.

You made a weird face that I said happy didn't you?  Well, it kinda is really, at moments anyway.  One minute you will be crying and sad because of the loss you feel, the regret of things you didn't get to do or say.  And the next moment you are laughing about a memory that is so funny, and with the sadness behind it, it only intensifies that laughter.  It also feels like sometimes things that were not funny at the time, are extremely funny after a person passes away.  A certain mannerism, or a reaction to an event, that may have been embarrassing or cringe worthy at the time,  is downright hilarious after the person is gone.

My mother in law passed this weekend.  So we have been dealing with the tsunami of emotions that are rushing at us in the wake of that earthquake. I feel like as a parent, explaining to my very small children what death is, has been eye opening, and has actually completely simplified some of the process.  It makes things that we THINK are completely gray in color, black and white again.  Here is a conversation with me and Little man:

Little man:  Mom, did grandma go to heaven?
Me: Yes sir she did.
Little man: is Thor up there with her?  (by the way, that dog I blogged about forever ago that I was so worried about his passing...well it happened.  On the twins' birthday which also happened to fall on Easter this year.  He got the last laugh on that one I think. Little jerk.  I loved him so much.)
Me: I would say absolutely yes.  (Come on, I have no idea whether or not dogs really do go to heaven, but I am going to say yes because I certainly want to believe that too.  Plus, I feel like if I need my dog in heaven, God loves me enough he is going to put him there.  So yes, dogs go to heaven.  Suck it theologians.) 
Little Man: Do you think he is chasing bunnies?
Me: Of course.
LIttle Man: Do giraffes go to heaven?
Me: Sure.
Little Man:  I can't wait to see the dinosaurs!!

Is he asking me about the soul qualifications of animals and whether or not they need one to get to heaven?  No.  Animals go to heaven, be it dogs or giraffes or dinosaurs.  Black and White.

I think the hardest part of grief is letting my children see me cry.  I know we as mothers hold it in, and hold it in until we feel as if we are going to burst.  Why do we do that?  Isn't it NORMAL to cry sometimes?  When we are overwhelmed, when we are sad, isn't crying an appropriate response?  When we feel as if we can't do it all, we will cry in the bathroom alone, and wait until we are presentanble again.  Why are we ashamed of that emotion?  We let our children see us happy, and excited and angry and proud.  Why is grief so taboo that we can't let our children see this, and process seeing us sad?  Is this not a life lesson to learn as well, that crying is ok? That it is appropriate to be sad and let tears flow?  I feel like our children deserve to be allowed to see their mother's cry.  They deserve to have that lesson.

As in any grieving process, the Admiral and I also had some anger which resulted in an argument at one point. Because I was so raw  in my emotions, I was crying while taking Little man with me to the grocery.

Little Man: Mom are you going to put your tears away? (this is how I ask him to stop crying when he is throwing a fit)
Me: I will soon.  Daddy was just angry and I was angry and now I am just sad about that. I don't like when daddy is mad at me, and I don't like to be angry at him, it isn't a good feeling.
Little Man: I don't either.  But, just because someone is angry, doesn't mean they don't love you.
Me: (crying even harder) You are so right.  When did you get so smart?
Little Man: I do ABC mouse on the computer....

It may be hard for them to see the tears, but I feel it is necessary.  Crying should not be scary and unknown to them.  Just as anger and fear can be shown in doses, so should sadness.  So in the words of Elsa, I am going to make sure to   "Let it Go" if I need to. 

The other thing I have noticed with grief, it is such a strong thing, that evokes such strong emotions from everyone, and since no one deals with grief the same, sometimes there is some serious DRAMA.  I don't' know about you, but as a lover of spectating other people's drama, I don't so much enjoy when the drama makes me be a participant.  Watching=fine and entertaining.  Being thrust out upon that stage.....not so much fun.  I feel like this is where I keep chanting the mantra that Jenny repeated over and over in the movie Forest Gump, "Dear God, make me a bird, so I can fly, far far away"  Why do people do that???  Why make drama??  Isn't this process hard enough without  adding crazy to the mix?  Personally, I just want to focus on my family.  Peddle your crazy elsewhere, I am full up here, thanks.

Really I have no point of closure to this rant.  All this is, is a rant not a story, not a lesson.  Just me pondering this whole process as I live it.  Grief is just so strange.  It is messy, and dirty, and a roller coaster of emotions.  And eventually, it fades.  For days it is all you think about, and then one day  it isn't the first thing you think about when you wake up anymore.  It is the second thing, then the third thing, then finally it is the last thing you think about before bed.  And ultimately it is the thing you just remember when something reminds you.  Grief is weird, but it is tolerable.  In actuality, it is inevitable.  And it is something that, though different to everyone, I feel, must be taught to our children that it CAN be handled , so that when they are in the midst of it, they can remember," my mother/father went through this and lived, so I can do this."   It is our responsiblity as their parent.

Being an adult really really sucks sometimes.......

  

Dr. Jeckle and Mr. Hyde

I think that the first person diagnosed with multiple personality disorder was a tween.

I have no idea when it happened.  It was like one night I sent my little boy to bed, perfectly content with playing with star wars action figures, having Nerf wars, and watching Fireman Sam on Sprout.  Then in the morning this surly, dour, tween came out of his room after sleeping in until 10am.

Your Royal Highness (as we like to refer to him) is now 12 years old.  He had his birthday over a very long car ride from our House to Denver for a family vacation.  This did not please his majesty, but he will definitely get over it.  YRH (for short) was always such a sweet boy.  He was always a very good boy too.  With a shock of red hair on top of his little pale freckled head and sparkly blue eyes, he was just the cutest little boy.  He was always happy, always positive and looked on the bright side. One night I sent him to bed, kissed and hugged him good night at the usual 9pm.  At 10 am the next morning, Mr. Hyde came out of his room.

The thing that they don't tell you about tweens is that they absolutely pull Jeckle and Hyde with you on a daily, sometimes hourly, some times minute-ly basis.  One second they are too school for cool, and the next they are wanting to curl up in your lap and have you play with their hair.  One second they are talking about the "CPR" (chick progress report), and then in an instant they are playing with little green army men and having a "war" in the playroom.  One minute they are watching "The Avengers" with you at the theater, then come home and turn on "Paw Patrol".

YOU NEVER KNOW WHO IS GOING TO SHOW UP!!!

Parent.  Beware. 

This can make talking to them a very very tricky tightrope to walk.  On Monday when you joked with your tween about how when his hair grows a little too long, it kind of bushes out like Lego hair, you both laughed and had a good chuckle about it.

But beware.

 If you bring it up again later on your way to the barber, He may glare at you and say, "You are so mean to me.  Why do you always have to pick on me."  To which you will then spend the entirety of the car ride to the barber apologizing and trying to make up for it by telling him all of the wonderful things that you DO love about him.

One afternoon you ask your tween if he will please go up and straighten up all of the legos in his room so that you can vacuum, and he responds with a smile and "sure mom!" but then the following week you ask with the same demeanor and tone of voice and are then presented with an eye roll, and a sassy, "Gaaaaawd, I have to do EEEEEEEEVVVVERYYYYYY thing around here!!!!"  followed by stomping up the stairs.  In this case it is very very easy to retaliate with listing all of the things that YOU do indeed do around the house and how in fact YOU are the one to do EEEEEEEEVVVVERYYYYYY thing around the house.

 THIS IS A TRAP!!  Do not engage!!

 This is merely a ploy to get you talking and so frustrated and angry that you delay the cleaning , or to just ultimately cause you to forget to make him go up and clean at all.  At all costs bite your lip and move on.


Also, tweens are very aware of the  feelings that you are having on just realizing that they are growing up

quickly and your dawning panic.  They will not hesitate to use this against you.

YRH: Mom, my throat is scratchy.
Me: (in the middle of folding laundry, making breakfast, and doing dishes) Ok, well, I showed you how to make tea with honey, go make some.
YRH:  But mommy (there, see what he did there? ) my throat hurts.  Will you please make me some tea?
Me: But honey I am right in the middle of all of this.  Just go make some tea.  It literally takes two minutes.
YRH: (sighs) ok.  I guess I will just go do it by myself.  I just love how you make it, and I just can't make it as good as you.
Me: Give me the mug....

Do you see what happened there?  He has even conned me into make Eggo waffles for him, because I "get them more crunchy than he does".  So beware of these techniques.  They will use your dawning panic about them getting older to dupe you.  They know how to make tea and Eggo waffles.  They are twelve for crying out loud!

But I feel like the thing I was the most unprepared for was the smart mouth.

When I was in college I was coined the nickname "Comeback Queen".  I was extremely rapid fire with snarky responses to most any situation. (I was also nicknamed "mulch girl" for different reasons....that may or may not have involved passing out in a bush and sleeping there all night....)  I was very skilled with a smart mouth.  I was also an expert eye roller and sigh-er. It was a skill I developed in high school (aka sassy mouth, smart alek, and smart ass) but I was more shrewd with how I used it.  My mom was not one to put up with sass.   All of these had to be used with discretion because if I wanted a social life at all, I could not exercise my gift willy nilly.

The problem with having this talent is....it is genetic.  My son has inherited this gift.  He is playing around with his power of words, and unfortunately, he is not shrewd about using it.  So he does not wait until I turn around to do the eye roll.  He does not wait until I am out of ear shot to sigh and mumble.  He is flagrant with it.  As a matter of fact, today he tried to be a little smarter about it, and put on sunglasses in the house and tried the eye roll, to which I said, "Hey there chief? I can see your eyes behind your glasses.  Not stealthy.  And now I will take your Ipod please..."

I am telling you all of this, not to complain, but to  educate.

You see, everyone talks about the teen years, and I understand that it has its own special set of

challenges.  But NO ONE talks about the "birthing pains" that are a prequel to the teen years.  The tween years are the "groanings" of the teen trying to emerge from it's chrysalis.  The  beginning of the end of childhood.  No one talks about the challenges that are heading your way as you look at your precious child who one day wants you to cut his steak for him, and the next is wanting to get a job to start saving for a car that he will buy in 4 years. 

I was not prepared.  But my story is a cautionary tale for other parents.  Your baby will turn into a tween.  They will have drama and sweetness all in the same hour.  They will talk about girls, and talk about playing in the mud in the same day.  It is quite possibly the most head spinning experience I have ever witnessed.  In the same moment, it makes me both proud and sad.  Proud that not only have I had a child, but I have kept it alive to this point!!  And as a bonus, he is relatively happy (when he is not surly because we are out of milk for his rice krispies or because I said that pop tarts are not an acceptable breakfast) and is for the biggest part a good, polite, and caring person.  But I am sad because I realize that I only have a few years left of him being here all the time.  He isn't a baby.  But he isn't a teen.  He is a tween.  

Unfortunately, I do not have experience with tween girls yet, only a boy.  So come back to me in 5 years.  The twin girls should prove to be a WHOLE different experience.

Crap, I am going to be cutting steak for other people the rest of my life........

My summer plan....which fell apart

It is officially summer break for my family and myself.  I am already planned up to the hilt with stuff for us to do, and between vacations and camps it is looking like I won't have to bust boredom too often, so that is a relief. 

A month ago I decided that this summer would be "THE SUMMER OF RESPONSIBILITY".  My original plan was to kick up the kids responsibility  a notch because, well, Your Royal Highness is almost 12, The twins are 5, and Little Man is almost 4.  So why in the name of Gods Green earth am I the only one doing chores around this hizzle??  Time for them to pull their own weight, am I right? 

Until day 1........

 I will now give you a list of what I WANTED to see my children accomplish this summer, and why this is NOT going to end up happening. 

1. Your Royal Highness will learn to load the dishwasher.

Let me tell you why I might as well just do this myself.  So it is after dinner, and there is a sink full of dishes from preparing the meal, and a table full of dishes from eating the meal.  I ask YRH to please load the dishwasher while I get the food into containers and put away.  I come back to see this:

Yeah, I don't think those are getting clean.  Not only that, but he rinsed off a total of...none of them.  So yes, that Nutella on the spoon? that stuck on rice in the bowl? Those all got washed and returned to me with very clean rice and Nutella on them.  I also have a serious bit of OCD when it comes to dishes in the dishwasher.  You could be Martha freaking Stewart and I will  go behind you and rearrange the dishes because , just, no.

2. Your Royal Highness will learn to watch the littles for short amounts of time.

It was such a good idea in theory.  I mean, I was watching my nephews when I was all of 10 years old!  YRH is almost 12, surely he is old enough for two 5 year olds and an almost 4 year old?  They can all talk and tell him what they need right? I left to go help the Admiral drop off his car for an oil change, and figured since it was naptime, this was a great trial run.  I was gone for 20 MINUTES.  And the littles were ALSEEP!  I received a total of 4 phone calls, and 2 texts in that 20 minutes that I was gone.  "Mom, I hear rustling coming from LIttle Man's closet. I am pretty sure he is awake."  "Mom, I went into LIttle man's room and he had a screw in his mouth and won't give it to me.  What do I do?"  "Mom, can I open my window in my room, I am going to clean it while you are gone." (umm, not holding my breath on that one)  "Mom, I need to take the dog out, and they are asleep can I leave them in the house while I take him out back, or do I need to wake them up and make them all go with me?"  "Mom, how much longer are you going to be gone?  Can we go to the pool when you get back?" So. Not. Worth it.


3. The littles will learn to dust tables and baseboards

I thought this would be easy since all of those things are in their height range.  But they knocked everything off of the coffee tables in order to dust them, never putting it back on when they were done.  They also decided it would be fun to furniture polish each other's feet, because hey, lemon scent!  And then it is also equally fun to furniture polish your socks, and then 'skate' on the wood floor.  Never mind that it leaves a very very very slippery film where ever they have been, and my cat like reflexes are more like sloth like reflexes at this stage in the game. 

4.  The Littles will learn how to clean the toilet

Apparently potty water is fun.  Who knew.

5. The children will be responsible for the cleanliness of their own rooms.

Despite my chart that I made (WITH PICTURES) of how to clean a room, and in what order to do it, this whole concept is completely foreign to them.  "what is this 'put away' you are speaking of?  This is not a phrase that I have ever heard.  You mean, place the Barbies that I took out of this box, back IN TO this box?  I have never heard of such nonsense!  Absurd!" (In my head that is read in an English accent)  I came into the girls room to see one of them laying on the floor staring at the ceiling because "I just can't even", and the other one was in her closet putting on every single dress up dress she could find, simultaniously.  I went into Little man's room to see him under his bed with a whole fistful of his brother's legos that he had stolen while he wasn't looking, and I walked over to YRH's room, to find a sign on the door.  "BE CAREFUL UPON ENTRY. DANGEROUS CLEANING INSIDE."  This had me intrigued.  So I opened the door, (carefully, because hey, I am a rule follower) to find his bed completely taken apart, his millions of legos precariously stacked upon themselves upon his table, and piles upon piles of laundry in various places.
"What the heck are you doing?  I said clean your room!  This is the exact opposite of cleaning!  This is...well...this is worse-ing!"
 "Mom, don't freak out.  I am rearranging the furniture.  I want  my bed on the other side." 
"It probably would be a lot easier to do that if  you would have CLEANED IT FIRST.  Now you are trying to move it on top of all of the junk!"
 "Mom...you just don't understand.  But I am probably going to need your help in a minute....."  Now I just can't even.....

So I just give up.  It is so much easier, and so much less hassle if I just do it.  So to my future sons and daughters in law, I am so completely sorry.  I will come over and help you with your chores after you marry my children, because trust me, it is just easier  that way.

I need a glass of wine....

Cabin in the Woods......the True Story

I am going to tell you a story....a very very scary story.  So please turn off your lights, grab a flash light, and pretend that you and I are sitting across from each other around a campfire. 

This is a story about my vacation, and it is terrifying.

A few months ago, my husband and I decided for spring break we would go to Gatlinburg with the family.  So we searched for weeks for a good looking cabin rental to make the smokey mountain expience legit.  Finally we found one that we liked, that would fit us all, and seemed nice.  It was called.... (enter spooky music)....Summer Breeze..

I called and the lady from the company, Cabin Fever Rentals,  on the phone seemed really nice, but most witches do in the beginning of fairy tales don't they? ("Come inside my gingerbread house children....it's ok....granny won't eat you."  Till she does!!!)  Got us a deal where we buy 5 nights and get two nights free.  Awesome.  Spectacular.  But what do they say about things that are too good to be true?

So we are getting excited.  The Admirals sister and her kids were coming to stay too, so we were really excited to get the family together for a fun holiday. 

We drive the seven hours it takes to get to Gatlinburg from our house, with all of the children and our 14 year old dog.  We took the dog because he didn't deal well with being boarded, and the cabin was pet friendly so why not?  We get to the check in office, and all of the toddler need to pee.  So we all clamor out of the van and tumble into the office where we are greeted with a large sign that says, "NO PUBLIC BATHROOM." 

My english teacher senior year in high school did a whole unit on foreshadowing.  Why didn't I pay more attention????

So we all clamor back outside while The Admiral checks us in, and SIL (sister in law) takes little man to a bush to water it, if you know what I mean.  I tell the girls that they will have to wait a bit for a gas station, and they immediately panic. 

We get checked in, get directions to the cabin, and head out. 

We pull up, and My stomach does a flip flop.  There is trash littering the entire perimetor of the house.  Red Solo cups, McDonald's wrappers, plasic baggies, and more.  The Admiral goes to unlock the door and almost has to ram it with his shoulder to make it open. 

Seriously Mr. Kazor, I should have paid more attention to the whole foreshadowing unit.  Really.

We walk in, and at first blush it looks ok.  But upon further inspection, I notice cobwebs hanging from every corner, and most windows.  The kids start running around yelling, happy to be free of the car.  The twins run to the bathroom.  SIL's kids all plow in and head for the fooseball table and the pool table, and Your Royal Highness heads immediately for the hot tub. 
"MOOOOOOOOM!!!!!" He yells.  I walk out, and the hot tub is freezing cold.  "Ok, I will give the office a call."  The Admiral yells to me from inside, "Might want to add this light fixture to that list."  I look in the downstairs hall, and see the wall sconce is hanging from the wall by exposed wires.  Awesome. 

I walk over to the couch to sit down and notice pillows on them with sketchy looking stains, and some sort of dried liquid splashed down the front corner of one.  I didnt know liquid could dry to leather couches like that.  Hmm. 

SIL and Admiral go to the store to get groceries, and I make a call to the front desk about the things we noticed.  A guy comes out and fixes the light, and then spends 20 minutes farting around with the hot tub.  He comes back in, "Well, it looks like the motor is out.  I will call the hot tub people and have them out tonight."  I felt satisfied with the response, and true to his word he sent out the hot tub guy that night.  My thought was that he would fix the hot tub, but he spent another 20 minutes farting around with it and came it to tell me," It looks like the motor is out."  Duh.  The other guy said that. He then proceeds to explain that he has to talk to the owner to get approval to fix it, so it was going to be a day or two before it was fixed.  There were some seriously dissappointed children. 

Admiral and SIL come back with groceries, and we unpack and go to start dinner.  Large burner doesnt work, and oven will only get hot if you set it to 425.  I guess I can forget about baking cookies.  We finish dinner, do dishes and put stuff away, and find a pan that is so beat up it could possibly have been used as a murder weapon. I go to make up the pull out bed for the kids....there are no sheets to speak of, and only one blanket.  Sweet SIL says that her two daughters can sleep with her in the king size bed. 

After watching the finale of Walking Dead, around 11pm, we all head off to bed.  Admiral pulls back the covers to find.....scuze me while I vomit in my throat....4 giant spots of blood on the mattress.  There is no mattress cover at all.  The only thing between us and the matress is a very thin sheet. 

We sleep very much clothed. 

We get up, and it is too early to call the office.  Admiral, SIL, Your Royal HIghness, and older cousins head out to go ziplining over the moutains.  I stay back with all the young kids who are too little to go.  I figure I will call when they all go to bed, so I can voice my complaints without getting interupted.  I get them all down, and it is quiet in the house. 

Until it wasn't. 

I hear a buzzing.  I look up.  Hornets.  4 of them, in the window.  Now there are a lot of things I am scared of, but bugs and especially stinging bugs, are at the top of that list.  I freak out.  Bad.  So I call the office and as calm as possible tell them about all of the things that I have found. 

The range had dirty drip pans
Cobwebs everywhere
Doors to bedrooms downstairs had broken handles
Closet doors won't close, and one was hanging off broken
Blood on the mattress....I REPEAT BLOOD ON THE MATTRESS
Trash surrounding perimeter of house
 Broken lamp on side table
LIghtbulbs out in light fixtures
Door to outside had bird poop on the INSIDE of the door frame
Missing sheets
Missing blankets
Stains on throw pillows and couch
and now....HORNETS

The lady tells me that she will send the cleaning crew out, and she will call the pest control people.  However the pest control people will need to fumigate, and we will need to be out of the house for 6 hours when they come.  I sigh and say, "Look.  I am happy you want to fix all of these things, but we are being highly inconvieinced here.  This is ruining my vacation.  I am crying right now, and stressed, and I am on vacation.  I would really like some sort of compensation for all of this." 

"Well mam, I can give you 15% off of your future stay."

"Oh darling, you misunderstand me.  I will NOT be coming back to your cabins.  Ever.  Is there nothing you can do other than that?"
"I am sorry, and I can tell you this is very much not the normal.  These problems are very very rare."
"Well, they may be rare, but they are happening, and this is unacceptable.  I want it all fixed."
"We will mam."

So the fix it guy comes out and fixes the doors, and then the cleaning guy shows up.  He has a couple of sets of sheets in his hands, and a duster.  He asks me to show him where I see dirt. 

Seriously?

Isnt' this your JOB?  How do you NOT see the dirt??  It is EVERYWHERE!!  But I humor him, and show him all of the cobwebs and then I show him the mattress. 

"Oooh.  The man who stay here last cut his hand.  He bleed on mattress.  I forgot mattress pad." 
"You forgot to bring a matress pad??"
"I so sorry."  He then hands me sheets and says, "You use and I bring you mattress cover tomorrow."

-sound of record scratching-

WHAAA WHAATT!!!???  TOMORROW??????  Dude, I have blood on my mattress tonight!!!  Plus, who the hell cuts their hand and bleeds all over the bed?  How do you cut your hand on a bed??? 

He scurries around cleaing up the cobwebs and then leaves before I had a chance to stop him.  The cherry on top of that?  He didn't even make up the bed!  He didnt' put the extra sheets on top of the bed.  There they lay in the bag on top of the bedspread. 

The Admiral comes back and I fill him in on the events. 

He is not pleased. 

In fact we are both pretty skeeved out.  I go downstairs to the kids area, and notice somthing that I didn't before.  The cartpet down there is DISGUSTING.  How did I not see this before?  I don't know, maybe because we were focused on the hornets and the blood and the dirt and the gross from the main floor.  But there it is, gross awful carpet that left my socks black as soot after one crossing.  And what was that smell?  Was that the carpet too?  I lean down........Yep.  It was.  It smelled as if a poo and mold, and mildew had a baby.  Wow.  Yuck. 

I get a call from the pest control company. "Hey honey',"  (excuse me????) " I got a call you have hornets.  When do you want us to come out?"
"When is the earliest you can come? We have the kids and the dog to get out."
"I can come whenever you need honey." (seriously, say it again and I will cut you)
"Ok, we will take the kids and go sightseeing.  How about 9am?"
"We will be there honey....bye."  Click. 

Sweet baby Jesus, he is lucky he hung up. I about went crazy white girl all over him to teach him about professionalism and respect.

It was late, and Admiral and I decide, we need to probably have a more firm talk with the office in the morning.  See if there is another cabin they can give us.  This is unacceptable on all accounts.  So we go to add the layer of sheet between us and a possible Hepatitus infection, when we pull back the sheets and covers, and I hear him gasp..."OH GOD!" 
"What is it?"
"You don't want to know."
"The hell I don't, what is it?"
I tear around the bed and see it.....on the bed skirt...something you never ever ever want to see when you are away from home. 

ANCHORS AWAY ME LADS!!  WE GOT SEMEN!!!

We both freak the freak out, and Immediately start looking for another cabin rental company.  We stayed up until 1am, and found 3 that were available.  It was too late for that night, but we would call first thing.  We huddle, fully clothed, on top of the covers, on the one side of the bed farthest away from the STD and the Hepatitis. 

In the morning, we decide we will have the pest people postpone until the afternoon so we can pack up.  I call the rental company for the new cabin.....

"Eden Crest...this is David."  Came the sweet sing song voice of my new big gay angel.  His sweet southern twang mixed with his beautiful gay accent was music to my ears. 
"Hi David, I was looking on your website and found a cabin that was available.  I was intersted in booking it."
"When do you want to come darlin?"  When he called me an endearment I didn't mind so much.
"Now.  THis moment.  Today."  He chuckeled,
"Okay, let me see what I can do."  He clicked out, and came back in a moment, "Ok I can get you in today, but that cabin still needs cleaned and wont be ready until about 4.  Is that ok?"
"Ok.  That is fine. How much."
"Well, it would be usually $1300 for the week, but since you are coming today, I will knock off  50%. How is that?"
I started crying to this wonderfully lovely man..."Oh David, you don't even know...."I explained what was going on, why we needed in today, the house, and all of it. 
"Oh darling girl....we will get you hooked up.  We will fix this vacation."  That is all I needed to hear.  I cry.  But then I panic, I forgot to ask about the dog.
"David...we have a dog....do you allow pets."
"Hmm...not usually, but let me see what I can do."  I am on hold for like 5 minutes.  I start sweating.  He comes back on, "Baby, I made it pet friendly.  It will be a small fee, but is that ok?" 
"YES!!!!!!  FINE!!!!!!  DONE!!!!!"  He laughs and I am instantly wanting to be his best friend.  I finish up the clerical stuff, and tell the family the good news.  My sweet SIL says, "Since we are leaving, I will tell you now, the bathroom smells like sewage.  I didn't want to say anything while we were here, you were already so stressed."  Bless.....

So I call the pest people, "Ok.  We are not going to be able to get out of here for a bit, can you come later?"  The guy says, "Honey," (there it is again....grrr) "I can, I just don't know when. Might be later in the afternoon."
"Fine fine.  Please call before you come, we are going to go play mini golf, and we will need to leave the dog here."
"Ok., Will do." 

We decide to pack up the cars with everything but the food and the dog, so we can just grab and go after.  We head to Play mini golf...the first thing I have actually gotten to DO on my vacation since our arrival...and then we go to the park after, then lunch.  Around 1pm, after no call from the pest people, we head to the cabin to finish up packing.  we figure it will take a bit,then to check out of nightmare cabin, and drive to the new one, it will be almost 4. 

We pull up to the cabin to find a note on the door.....

"FUMIGATION began at 12pm....Please do not enter until 3pm."

THE DOG!!!!

 We run in and find Thor in the bathroom where we left him, but the house had obviously been fumigated, and he had been sitting in it for two hours.  Who fumigates with a dog in the house???  They never called!!

Pissed, I get the dog out of the house, and we leave the kids in the car, and get the rest of our stuff out of there.  I make an extensive list of all of our trials with this cabin and we head to the check in office.  Admiral goes in, and unfortunately the supervisor was not there.  We check out, and decide that the battle for our money back would have to be continued another day.

As we drive to our new cabin, (which would prove to be wonderful, and every single bit the vacation we were hoping for.  Seriously David...you are my gay in shining armor.  Mwah!  Love you!)  we left the creepy, scary, cabin behind us.  I feel like as we left I heard the sound of dueling banjos behind me.......

An open letter to cancer

I have to say, dear readers, I have been a little out of the loop lately.  

My brother was diagnosed with CNS lymphoma recently (cancer of the nervous system, found in his brain), and so our whole family has been in survival mode.  Please bear with me, I am sorry that this post will not be funny.  I have another one in the works that I will post later, but I really need to get this off my chest.

Dear Cancer,

You suck.

If there was ever a word to describe true, pure, unadulterated, evil, the word would have to be cancer. 

I hate you. 

I think the only word I can even wrap my head around at this point is.....Why?  Why my brother?  My brother is one of the most selfless, loving, caring, people in the world.  His beautiful smile, his melodious laugh, just light up the world around him.  He is a quiet person who keeps to himself, and never harmed anyone.  He would give you the shirt off of his back, and then would look at you and say, "do you want some pants to go with that?  How about dinner too?"  He would give you his last dollar even if it meant he would go without.

But you, cancer, are robbing me of my brother. 

His smile is fleeting at best right now.  His laugh is gone. His beautiful eyes that once danced are dull and vacant right now.  You are taking a shining star, and dulling his brilliance. 

Not only that, cancer, you are taking a toll on  my family.  My sisters, who before, were so very present in my children's lives, who were doting, and joyfull are now absent and anxious.  Family dinners are all but non exhistant.  We do not all gather much anymore.  We are all scattered as we take our turns caring for, and looking after my weakened brother. 

You cause pain and greif, and are relentless.  The constant barrage of painful tests that my brother must endure, and endures almost silently because you have robbed him of most of his power of speech, is excruciating to watch.  The procedure after procedure, after procedure just to find out what it is that is causing this, has caused so much havoc and turmoil.  And now comes the chemo next week that will rob him yet again, this time of an immune system, leaving him even weaker than he already is. 

All of this because of you cancer. 

But there is something you don't know. 

My family are a bunch of fighters. 

We will not go down without a fight.  And though my almost silent brother is quiet and his eyes are vacant, he is fighting.  He will force himself to find his name in his brain somewhere when he is asked by nurses when they check his cognitive skills.  He ate on his own with his own hands, not even 24 hours after his open brain biopsy.  He is fighting.  He is healing.  He has God and our whole family behind him pushing you back to the depths of hell where you came from.  In the words of Lord of the Rings, " YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!!!!"  Go back to where you came from cancer.  

We will not let this tear this family apart.  We will not let you have the satisfaction of going quietly into that good night.  My brother will fight, and we will be standing in the corner of the ring with water, and towels and pep talks because he is going to go every round until it is a TKO.  You picked the wrong family to mess with.  Because after this is all over, we, as a family, have a habit of contiuing to fight.  So after the chemo, and the rehab has taken care of you, we will be contiuing to fight against you so that one day, there is a cure to you, and no other family will have to endure the pain and grief, and turmoil that you cause. 

So you look out, because we are coming for you.  You mess with our brother, you mess with us, and we plan on kicking your ass.

Sincerely,
The Family

He went to Jared, we went into debt......

It has begun.

The season of cliche' romantic commercials, about going to Jared, Kissing that begins with Kay, and dozens of roses for the one that you love.  Because you know, you are a piece of crap if you don't spend hundreds of dollars on the people you love for the upcoming holiday.  (Because there is NEVER another holiday just like it coming right around the corner that they are going to want you to spend hundreds of dollars on.  This is it....the last one!  So make it count.)  SMH.....

I am getting really tired of all of these commercials that go with holidays.  I am not talking about Christmas, as annoying as they are, although it is already February, so I am sure they will start showing those next month "Only 10 months until Christmas, you better get shopping!" .  I am talking about the other holidays, like the soon to be celebrated  Valentine's day.

 A holiday that gets completely blown out of proportion.

You know, really if all were said and done, I would be happy with a card, a box of chocolates, and a little 'brown-chicken-brown-cow', and call it a day.  However, if you watch TV, you would think that if you were truly to celebrate valentines day you would need to go all out. Fancy dinner, expensive hotel, dozens and dozens of roses, fancy underwear, and hours and hours of hot passionate sex!( because yeah, I have had four kids, and not only do I have extra money to spend on that junk, but I also have absolutely NO body image issues after those pregnancies, and I plenty of energy to have that kind of romp in the hay with my husband. Please insert eyeroll here)

 It is ONE DAY! Not only that, but it is also a very exclusive one.  So if you don't feel like crap for not giving/getting that expensive gift, you are feeling like crap because you don't have anyone to feel like crap about not getting/giving a gift to/from!  My brother refers to it as singles awareness day.  I like that.  Nothing like a day of love to make you feel so very alone and unloved.  Yeesh.

 And it is not only the adults who are supposed to be over the top, the parents of the elementary kids go NUTS with this holiday.  I  sent my kid in last year with a box of valentines we bought at the store, and thought I was being fancy, and let him get the ones with little boxes of Nerds attached to them.  He came home with some of the most elaborate homemade Pinteresty cards and homemade candies  from everyone else.  I broke it to him that night that next year in middle school they don't do parties like this.  He almost cried.  If that was the kind of loot I was hauling in, I would probably cry too if the gravy train was getting cut off.  We didn't even do candy in ours when I was a kid, we just had those little cards in the little envelopes, and for the party we would have cookies or cupcakes (full gluten, egg, dairy,  and soy going on there, just sayin.) and some Hawaiian punch, (Oooh, I can almost taste that artifically flavored, red dye #5, sugar water now......) 

I am tired of the unrealistic expectations, and insane amount of pressure that the commercials and the media, give for these holidays. You know, when I was little, for mother's day one year, I went with my sister and picked some lilacs from our neighbor's tree, because we knew that they were her favorite.  Then we made her a breakfast of pancakes, and fruit, and put the lilacs in a vase for her, and put a card next to them.  That was what we did to celebrate mother's day.  It was a day to remind mom that she was the queen of our lives, and we appreciated all of the crap she put up with, and the wonderful things she did for us.

The commercials on TV today make it look like you are a complete loser if you don't get your mom diamonds, or take her to some exotic location, or treat her to an entire day at the spa!  Fortunately, my momma is so awesome, and she deserves all those things, but does not seem disappointed when I hand her a card, a hanging basket of flowers, and maybe take her to brunch.  I think this is  also very  excluding to all of the other moms out there who are single,  and alone with just their kids, or can't even be with their kids, to make such a big deal out of one day.   I have a girlfriend whose husband , despite it being mother's day, didn't even help out with the dishes, or with the cleaning, or childcare, despite the fact that it was his own family that was coming over to the house.  (Shout out to all my friends out there that did their own cleaning on mother's day.  You should be truly celebrated because you are amazing, and truly a martyr, because I would have been a big giant baby about that.)

Now, my Admiral was an awesome husband, and let me sleep in, got the kids breakfasted, and

cleaned up the house a bit while I relaxed.  He also took care of nap and any altercations that happened that day, and for that Admiral, I salute you!

There is all of this hype about spend spend spend, and it is just exhausting.  ( Can I get an amen??)  After Christmas, is the Valentine push, then after that is the Easter push (which don't even get me started.  The amount of crap in my kids' basket is NOT indicative of how much I love them.  I will say, the amount of difficulty in the eggs that I hide from them, however, absolutely is.  Easy to find eggs= I love you very much precious one.  Hard to find eggs= you better start acting right!)  After the Easter push is Mother's day....I can go on and on!  It is always something!

I LOVE holidays.  Love them.  Ask the Admiral, I am always looking up what national holiday it is so that we can celebrate.  National coffee day?  We are heading to Starbucks.  National Hamburger day?  I am making bacon cheeseburgers!  National Kiss a Redhead day?  Look out Your royal highness, you are getting slathered with kisses from momma.  I love celebrating stuff. For the DAY.   I do NOT like to be made feel bad by Kohls, Target (though I heart you always), Walmart and the like for not spending oodles and oodles of cash on my kids to celebrate holidays, and harping on it FOR MONTHS up until the actual day.

So I propose something kind of radical.   Let's make memories, not credit card debt with our children.  Let's not get offended when our husbands/wives/whatever don't get us exactly what we were wanting for valentines day, but be appreciative that they got us anything at all.  Let us not be disappointed when for mother's day we get a homemade card and a sloppy, cookie crumb faced kiss, and instead spend time on being appreciative that we are mothers in the first place (because as a mom that struggled with infertility issues for years,having a large famly is a true blessing no matter how much I complain.)  Instead of stressing out about filling stockings and wishlists, enjoy these years that there is magic and wonder of the Easter bunny, and Santa Clause.  If you kids are bigger, enjoy that you are all together, instead of spread out all over the country on these holidays. Let's ignore these desperate grasps from advertising executives to get our money, and emotions, and instead, be present in the moment.

And I swear, Admiral,  if you do go to Jared, or want a kiss that begins with Kay, or call 1-800-Flowers, or spend a fortune on Godiva  I will appreciate it.  But if you make me a card yourself, let me have a break, and treat me like we are dating teenagers for a day.....I will really treasure it.

(However, if you do succumb to the advertising pressures of any of the above please let it be the Godiva.....)

Top 10 reasons I still live like I am in my college dorm

I was just this moment walking zombie like around my house, wondering where to start in the whole cleaning process.  (as you can see if you are reading this, I did not get very far, because I am now blogging, not cleaning. I also may have adult ADHD.)  As I looked around I started to think about what my college dorm room looked like, and what living there felt like, and I realized something.  I don't think I have ever moved beyond the college dorm level of living. 

I do have a lot more amenities to my housing situation now than I did back then, none the least of which is the fact that I own a stove, oven, large refrigerator, and dishwasher as apposed to a hot pot, and coffee pot being my only means for preparing food for myself.  But in many many ways, I am still in the dorm life. Here is my top ten:


10. My desk is still covered with crap.
Back in school, my desk, which I think was supposed to be used for studying, was used for pretty much anything but that.  I would cook food in my hot pot, drop all of my dirty laundry on it, drop all of my mail on it, hang bras from the knobs of the drawers, and fill the drawers with various papers that I swore were important until the end of the year when I threw them all away, not remembering why.  Now, my desk is still covered, but with different crap.  Kid art, junk mail that needs recycled, various keys, some candy that I am not sure whose it is, half drank bottles of water, Hello Kitty duct tape, hats, and all of my weight watcher junk.  In my drawers are still the old papers that I swear are important, but when I go through them, I really have no idea why I kept them.

9. I am still making pop tarts, Spaghetti O's, and canned ravioli

My freshman year I had classes all morning and afternoon, and I didn't have a break until after lunch was over during spring quarter.  So I would head back to the dorm and crack open a can of spagetti O's or ravioli, or eat cold pop tarts for lunch.  I am still making these, just not for myself.  And thankfully not in a hot pot anymore. 
Oh those hot pots....  We were not allowed to have microwaves, toasters or burners of any kind in our room.  We WERE allowed to have a hot pot (a tea kettle looking thing, that you plug in,  that is for boiling water or soup.  It has a metal plate heating element on the bottom.)  I would make ALL KINDS of stuff in that thing.  One night, after a particularly late night out, I even made bacon in it.  Hey, desperate times...

8. I still have mounds of laundry
Back in the day I would save all of my laundry, because it cost money,( money that I did not have a lot of), to wash clothes.  So I would either save it all to take home over a weekend, or I would shove as much as I could all into one load, including what I was wearing to the laundry mat. I would strip down to my jogging bra, and my workout shorts, and wash everything in one load.  (Oh to have THAT body again) This style of housekeeping would leave my room with a giant  mountain of dirty clothes in the bottom of my closet.   Now I still have loads upon loads of laundry, of which I will wait until it is cascading down upon me to do.  Not because I have to or because I have to take it to the laundry mat.  I just hate doing laundry.

7. I can't take a shower alone
In the dorms there is usually a couple of shower stalls per housing section.  So ineveitably while you are in the shower someone else is going to come and shower beside you.  Chances are they will not appreciate the song you want to sing, or any other noise that you make while showering.  So you shower with a sense of guardedness.  Now, I have my own bathroom, but I am NEVER EVER EVER alone.  SOMEONE is going to wander in and need something from me.  Still no one appreciates the songs that I sing while I am in there, and now that I have a tween son, I shower with a sense of guardedness similar to back then.  I will say, I fully appreciate that I don't have to wear shower shoes anymore though. 

6. Subsequently, I also can't go to the bathroom alone
In college, there are also a couple of bathroom stalls for each housing section.  So most of the time you are not peeing, or otherwise, alone.  In fact, I can't otherwise with people around me, so I would try to go when I knew almost no one would be around, and STILL almost always, someone would walk in while I was in there.  Now, I can count on someone walking in, or banging on the door if I lock it, while I am in there. 

5. I still have to hide my favorite foods.
Many of my roomates in college would steal my snacks if I left them out on top of my desk.  And if it wasn't them, it was their friends.  So I would hide my favorite treats, little debbies, cookies, or cheetos, in some creative places.  Cookies were in tampon boxes, cheetos were in a dry cleaning bag, and little debbies were behind books from previous quarters.  I also went through a toast phase, where all I would snack on was cinnamon toast.  Since we were not allowed to have toasters, I hid my toaster in my dirty laundry basket under socks and underwear.  (I shudder to think about that now....ugh)  Now a days, I still have to hid my favorite treats, for the same reasons.  But my toaster is proudly displayed on the counter, and no, it is not the same one from college. 

4. I still hit people up for alcohol. 
In college, everyone wants that friend that can get you booze.  I had a couple of them.  Until you are 21, half of the students in your dorm can drink because they are 21, the other half can't because they aren't.  So you find a sympathetic one to help you bridge the gap.  I still have people get me booze, but not for the same reason (obviously).  When I am at the grocery, I am on a mission.  I like to get in, get out, get done.  My kids are normally with me, and I don't want to dilly dally.  I am on a ticking time bomb of tantruming, and I have to snip the black wire and go home before it goes off.  So I bypass any superfluous stuff, or anything that could potentially be a hazard (like the bakery because they will scream for cookies, donuts, and cupcakes, and any isle that has a multitude of breakables, because lets face it, little man is a bull in a china shop.)  So we avoid the liquer isle.  So if I know of anyone headed to the store, I will ask, "Hey!  Would you mind picking me up a bottle of pinot grigio?  Or a bottle of vanilla vodka? Thanks!  You are ever in my favor!" 

3. There is a lot of random yelling

You would be sitting at your desk (or for me, my bed) studying in perfect silence, and all of a sudden you would hear a scream, followed by hysterical laughter coming from the hall. Or you would hear the door open to the hall, and people would be yell-talking all the way by.  Or you would just hear someone yelling down the hallway for apparently no reason.  My house is no different.  But it is children, that go from playing silent, or amicably, to all of a sudden out of no where, "HEY!!!!!  GIVE THAT BACK!!!!!!!"  or "MOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!"  or my favorite, "NOO!!!!!!!  THAT IS MIIIIIIIINE!!!!!"  But sometimes it is also just Little Man yelling just to hear his voice because he likes the way it sounds.

2.I still have to be like a secret agent to have any kind of make out time with the Admiral
In college, you live with multiple people.  The general rule for guys is, you hang a tie on the door, you friends know not to come in.  Girls are different.  We don't like to be shut out of our living spaces.  At least that was the way it was with my roommates, there WAS no time that you got the room to yourself.  So If Admiral was coming to visit, I would have to do reconnaissance, "when are they all in class at the same time?  When are they all at the dining hall?  Is there a basketball game they are going to tonight?  How long will it take them to walk back??"  Now it is the same kind of questions, but just a little different.  "How long is nap time?  How long have they been asleep?  Will they hear the lock click when we shut the door?  How long before they wake up??"

And finally

1. There are still naked people running around randomly.
This sort of explains itself.  But back then..it was friends, and random people that lived in the dorm.  And now......it is my children, who for some reason, have an aversion to clothing. 

But sometimes I do too......