Sunday, January 31, 2010
Camping 101
When Bill and I purchased our motor home I had no idea what was in store for us. Alot of camping at a beach was my only request. I figured the motor home would provide us with a less expensive way to travel more often, more relaxation and more time together. It turns out, just like everything in else in life, camping requires work and money. So for the second time we have purchased a Money Pit only this time it didn't come with "weak trees" it came with a generator that didn't work, a tow dolly that scratched the crap out of our van (which we ended up selling after only one use) and too much togetherness. I endured the endless redneck jokes and RV humor and replay the Griswold's Christmas Vacation in my head over and over again.... Shitter's full. None the less our Ol' RV has brought us to a new chapter in our life together as a family...
Two young kids + our trusty ol' RV + a 24 hour ride to Florida (split up over 3 days) = adventure, right? If you say so. We hit the highway at 5am.
5:15am
"Are we there yet?"
"Not yet Liv. It's gonna be a little while."
Our first destination was South of the Border Campground in South Carolina- a 12 hour ride but with the kids it turned into 14 very looooonnnnngggg hours. Every stop to get gas or coffee turned into a 1/2 hour ordeal.
"Olivia you need to get back in your seat."
"No."
"Yes or we can't go to Florida."
"Fine. I don't want to go."
"Well we are going- Now get back in your seat!"
And it never failed, just like at home, as soon as I sat down....
"Mooommy, I need you."
"Of Course you do."
About two hours into the trip I just happen to ask Bill If he had put the step up outside the side door- we both quickly check the side mirror- oops! It was an act of God that we didn't tear it off going through the toll booths. Bill credits his expert driving skills. I just think God didn't want to test us when we were so close to home and could turn around.
Around noon we stopped to eat lunch. I had made prepared some meals ahead of time so we could save some money along the way. I start microwaving my lunch and realize the microwave is not working. Bill turns on the generator but no luck. He checks the fuses still nothing. Now we are both starring at the microwave, pressing buttons, banging on it while Olivia is running around in the trailer and Liam is crying.
Son of a ..... Okay McDonald's it is.
I am finally trying to relax on the couch and watch Cinderella....
"RaeAnn, can you come up here."
"Open the window and push out that side mirror please. All I can see are my own balls."
And going down the highway at 70 miles an hour do you know how many times I had to push that mirror out- A LOT! Bill finally stuck a twig in it on one of our many stops along the way. Worked like a charm.
Back on the road for another couple of hours and we stop at a rest stop in Virginia. I get out, use the restroom and on my way back to the trailer I am intercepted by this homely looking woman. She is wringing her hands and rambling on about needing to get home but her car broke down and she used the last of her money to fix it and she does have a cell phone but she has no family that will help her and she has never had to ask for any help before blah, blah, blah. I must have a sign on my forehead that says sucker and give her a whopping $3- hey I did my good deed for the day.
Back on the road. I am tired, cranky, Bill and I are snapping at each other and my digestive tract is not good due to all the fast food. I ask Bill to find an exit with something other than McDonald's, Wendy's or Burger King for dinner. We stop and Bill takes my order for Quiznos- Large mesquite chicken sandwhich, with extra cheese- hold the dressing please. He brings me back my sandwhich, which we are going to share, and starts driving. I am left standing in the back trying to find the russian dressing in the refidgerator as Bill goes around the ramp and juice boxes, ketchup, salad and soda cans start flying out at me! Are you kidding me.
"Where is the Russian Dressing?!"
"In the regrigerator."
Arrgggg!
I locate the dressing and finally get everything loaded back in the fridge, open my sandwhich to apply the dressing and..... what is this?! extra chicken and no cheese. I have had it! I crumple up the the whole thing and throw it in the garbage.
"Did you just throw out that sandwhich?"
my lack of response answers his questions. I lay on the couch, cover myself with my snuggie and pretend this trip is not happening.
Finally at South of the Border- Bill sleeps with Olivia on the couch and Liam and I sleep in the bed.
We wake to an uneventful morning- thank you Jesus and are back on the road. The rest of South Carolina, Georgia and finally Florida....
I 95 in Dayton Flordia- a fire truck goes flying by everyone, then police cars. All the police cars get in front of all four lanes of traffic and start slowing us down. We are the second vehicle in in the second lane from the right. Right before the LPGA Blvd. overpass the cops stop and reroute us off the exit and then back onto I 95. There are people stopped all along the entrance ramp back on I 95, some with cameras. We can see a line of police cars on the overpass. Bill and I are pondering back and forth about what the hell is going on (at one point Bill told me to check the internet for Obama's Itinary to see if he was passing through to go to the Dayton 500) we were thankful we that we were not stuck in the line of traffic that has to merge from 4 lanes to 1 to get off the exit- thank you lady from the Virginia rest stop for boosting my Karma- no good deed goes unnoticed. Come to find out they closed the overpass because of a potential jumper. Only we would encounter this- all kidding aside, thankfully the police talked the man down but I am sure a lot of the travelers sitting in traffic wanted to kill him.
Our destination for this day is a rest stop in southern Florida (mile marker 106 in case anyone needs a good rest area- this one was huge) anyway, we stop and start the generator to use the air conditioning because it is so hot and humid out.
VROOM.... VROOM.... VROOM goes the generator
then it starts fluctuating... VROOM, vroom, VROOM, vroom then nothing.
Bill goes outside to manually start it... VROOM, VROOM, VROOM... thank you baby Jesus
He gets back inside and the generator makes a last VROOM and putters off.
Son of a....
There is no way we can sleep in this camper with no air. I am having hot flashes just thinking about it. Opening the windows was out of the question because only Florida has they beautiful little bugs called 'no see ums'. You may not be able to see them but you feel them biting you. We call around to local campgrounds off 95 but they are all booked (one attendant told Bill that he should have planned in advance.... Let's just say that conversation did not end well). We decide that we are going to leave the good Ol' RV (which Bill first informs me that he is going to sell when we get home and then tells me he is going to burn it once we get to the Florida Keys and fly home) running all night with the cab AC on. We get the kids all settled but Liam and Olivia are still up. Bill is too frustrated to sleep so back in the car seats the kids go and off we go.
"Where are we going?"
"I don't care if we drive the rest of the way tonight." (It is another 4 hours to our campground in the Florida Keys and it is already 10:30pm)
"But check in at the campground is not until 11am."
"So we will park out front and wait."
okay, I am done talking to Mr. Unreasonable and try to locate an exit that has coffee. (btw to any campers out there- the book The Next Exit is fabulous for locating food, gas and lodgings off any main highway in the US- only $15 on Amazon!) I find a rest stop that has a dunckin donuts and Bill gets a little giddyup in his step. Both kids are sleeping and this is the best driving we have had all trip. We get there and Bill is taking awhile to come back to Old Faithful. He finally gets back and tells me that people are incompetent everywhere. Apparently someone had filled the napkin dispenser with napkins but going the wrong way so I can only imagine Bill in there trying frantically to get one napkin out while cursing the poor bastard who filled it. (now he knows what it is like to try to pull toilet paper out of a dispenser in a woman's room).
On the road again, ohhhh on the road again....
We opt to take the Florida Turnpkie instead of I95 through Fort Lauderdale and Miami as it is a little less crazy. The Next Exit Book does not cover this highway and I am feeling a little uneasy. I don't know where we are or where I can tell Bill to stop. I remember my in laws mentioning a Wal-Mart right off the turnpike before Rt.1 which lead to The Keys. I persuade Bill to stop there as we are both exhausted. Bill wants to get gas first, since we have to run the RV all night for the AC. As we are driving around to find a gas station that is open I am just not getting a good feeling about this town. We make our way to the Wal-Mart. Garbage flying around, carts everywhere, I want to go home..... but wait... could it be... a camper's haven....
A make shift RV park at your local Wal-Mart, security included. There were about a dozen campers parked in one corner of the Wal-Mart parking lot and a security car right infront of them-yeah! We found a spot and hunkered down for the night.
The next morning as we awake Olivia seeing the other campers around asks if we are at the our campground in Florida.
Conveniently located at a grocery store I decided to get some last minute items. If you see me on the next round of People of Walmart let me know because I was looking oh so pretty as I entered the Wal-mart- so much so that the greeter did not greet me. Anyway, two hours later and we finally arrive at the KOA in SugarLoaf Key! Finally... running water, electric, cable- this is the good life.I am finally starting to relax when what to my wondering eyes should appear but 8 tiny springbreakers. So our camp site is nestled between two permanent campers that the campground rents out. And what luck- they put the good ol' family truckster in between spring break 2010! Girls in bikinis, guys with wave runners and motor boats all hooting and hollering and speaking nothing but spanish. They are arriving by the car load and setting up tents next to their trailers.
Are you freakin' kidding me?!!
In true spring break fashion they waste little time in their trailers and tents and head to the pool side bar. Fine by us. We decide that we will give them one night before we complain. But alas we didn't have to. Turns out there were 19 of them all together and they only paid for 12 people. Management moved them and their tent city to the back of the campground. (unfortunately when alcohol and any moving vehicle is involved there is bound to be an accident. One of the boys was on his wave runner, going way too fast, got caught in the current and hit the conceret support of a bridge. The last we heard he was air lifted to Miami Hospital).
Cock-a-doodle-do.... Cock-a-doodle-do....
What the hell- a rooster?! oh you betcha- lots of them because apparently it is illegal to kill roosters here so they just wonder all around. Bill jokes that he has never seen so much cock before. Ha... Ha....Ha.... I am not amused. At least it is sunny and warm the day we arrive and we can go to the beach. Did I mention that it is supposed to rain for the majority our vacation- Sunshine State my ass.
"This is camping." Bill repeats his new mantra.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Anxiety
"Do you think I have a brain tumor?"
"yeah- not likely." Billy answers my insane question.
However, I am sure I have one because my head hurts. Sure, sure you are thinking it is probably just a headache and any sane person would but my burden to bare in this life is anxiety. So sometimes my irrational thoughts take over and I become a crazy hypochondriac.
hot flash = passing out
pain in my leg = blood clot
muscle spasm in my chest = pulmonary embolism
pain in my shoulder = lung cancer
shaky hands = Parkinson's
But most often I am very conscious of any pains on my left side because I am certain I will have a heart attack or stroke. ( I used to carry a card in my wallet with the signs and symptoms of both and keep a stash of baby aspirin around too).
I don't know where I get these ideas- actually I am a person that should not be looking things up on Web MD because symptoms of minor aches and pains can come back with the possible diagnosis of life threatening diseases that I then need to go and research. Hell my doctor doesn't even give me my test results anymore- he just has the receptionist tell me I am fine.
Anxiety attacks are mysterious at times, they can come on suddenly and if you are not aware of what is happening can very easily take you down. (did you know that caffeine exacerbates anxiety or that your subconscious can trigger an attack even if things in your life are going well?)
Today I took Liam to the grocery store to finish up last minute shopping before our vacation. I knew before I left the house that I was feeling "funny". Anyone who has never experienced an anxiety attack it is very hard to explain. It is not just shortness of breath, tightening in your chest or tingling sensation in hands or throughout your body it is a state of mind that something is seriously wrong with an impending sense of doom. I should have just known better and stayed home but I have been living my life with this since I was 21 and am not going to let it control me. I know how to do the relaxation breathing and self talk myself down. However, today it just came on too fast and there I am in the cereal aisle having those frightful feelings. I called Bill who tried to hit me with reality and put things in perspective. I made it to the checkout. Someone in front of me and someone now behind me. I felt trapped. I started sweating, my breathing was irregular. I started to do my deep breathing exercises and focus on Liam but my anxiety continued. I had the flight response and thought immediately that I should tell someone that I was not feeling well. No, no I told myself I can do this but by the time I was checking out my hands were shaking so severely and I could barely whisper to the cashier that I was not feeling well. They ushered me to a bench but I could just not get control of myself. They were asking me if I was diabetic because my hands were so visibily shaking and if I needed something to eat. I kept saying that I was having trouble breathing and focusing but I knew that I was breathing because I was talking. (my mind trying to tell my body that I was okay). My initial thought was, poor Liam- I am just trying to be a good mom and oh man, Bill is not gonna be happy. The manager came over and called 911. Great- here comes my boys in blue. By the time the ambulance got there I was starting to feel better. Blood pressure and heart rate checked and I was calming down. Poor Bill comes rushing down with Olivia. My worst fear has always been that something terrible will happen to me when no one will be there to take care of my kids. I have had panic attacks in front of Olivia and done my breathing, telling her that mommy just doesn't feel well. My little angel just sat next to me and rubbed my arm and told me, "it will be okay mommy." What a horrible feeling to have your daughter have to comfort you. I hate knowing that my kids will see me like this and worry that they may be genetically prone to Panic Disorder. I feel terrible that I have gotten everyone all excited over something I should have been able to control. But I have come to realize that it happens and I am not ashamed or embarrassed by it. However, I often feel guilty for having to put my friends and family through my irrational thinking and difficult behavior. But they love me and for better or worse this is me. It is a learning process of how to handle it- self-help books, therapy, medication. Before I was diagnosed with Panic Attacks do you know how many times I was in the ER- well let's just say that I am glad I have health insurance. I want to say thank you to all of the emergency personnel that have every had to deal with me because I know how frustrating it must be to make someone who truly believes they are dying believe they are okay.
My mother always told us that what happens in your family, stays in the family- sorry mom, my dirty laundry is all hanging out. I guess I just want anyone else who has ever experienced a panic attack to know that I feel for you. I am thankful that I don't have cancer or a brain tumor, haven't suffered a heart attack or stroke but Panic Disorder is real and scary with lots of physical symptoms.
Don't worry I am not turning this into a self-help blog- just needed to share.
"yeah- not likely." Billy answers my insane question.
However, I am sure I have one because my head hurts. Sure, sure you are thinking it is probably just a headache and any sane person would but my burden to bare in this life is anxiety. So sometimes my irrational thoughts take over and I become a crazy hypochondriac.
hot flash = passing out
pain in my leg = blood clot
muscle spasm in my chest = pulmonary embolism
pain in my shoulder = lung cancer
shaky hands = Parkinson's
But most often I am very conscious of any pains on my left side because I am certain I will have a heart attack or stroke. ( I used to carry a card in my wallet with the signs and symptoms of both and keep a stash of baby aspirin around too).
I don't know where I get these ideas- actually I am a person that should not be looking things up on Web MD because symptoms of minor aches and pains can come back with the possible diagnosis of life threatening diseases that I then need to go and research. Hell my doctor doesn't even give me my test results anymore- he just has the receptionist tell me I am fine.
Anxiety attacks are mysterious at times, they can come on suddenly and if you are not aware of what is happening can very easily take you down. (did you know that caffeine exacerbates anxiety or that your subconscious can trigger an attack even if things in your life are going well?)
Today I took Liam to the grocery store to finish up last minute shopping before our vacation. I knew before I left the house that I was feeling "funny". Anyone who has never experienced an anxiety attack it is very hard to explain. It is not just shortness of breath, tightening in your chest or tingling sensation in hands or throughout your body it is a state of mind that something is seriously wrong with an impending sense of doom. I should have just known better and stayed home but I have been living my life with this since I was 21 and am not going to let it control me. I know how to do the relaxation breathing and self talk myself down. However, today it just came on too fast and there I am in the cereal aisle having those frightful feelings. I called Bill who tried to hit me with reality and put things in perspective. I made it to the checkout. Someone in front of me and someone now behind me. I felt trapped. I started sweating, my breathing was irregular. I started to do my deep breathing exercises and focus on Liam but my anxiety continued. I had the flight response and thought immediately that I should tell someone that I was not feeling well. No, no I told myself I can do this but by the time I was checking out my hands were shaking so severely and I could barely whisper to the cashier that I was not feeling well. They ushered me to a bench but I could just not get control of myself. They were asking me if I was diabetic because my hands were so visibily shaking and if I needed something to eat. I kept saying that I was having trouble breathing and focusing but I knew that I was breathing because I was talking. (my mind trying to tell my body that I was okay). My initial thought was, poor Liam- I am just trying to be a good mom and oh man, Bill is not gonna be happy. The manager came over and called 911. Great- here comes my boys in blue. By the time the ambulance got there I was starting to feel better. Blood pressure and heart rate checked and I was calming down. Poor Bill comes rushing down with Olivia. My worst fear has always been that something terrible will happen to me when no one will be there to take care of my kids. I have had panic attacks in front of Olivia and done my breathing, telling her that mommy just doesn't feel well. My little angel just sat next to me and rubbed my arm and told me, "it will be okay mommy." What a horrible feeling to have your daughter have to comfort you. I hate knowing that my kids will see me like this and worry that they may be genetically prone to Panic Disorder. I feel terrible that I have gotten everyone all excited over something I should have been able to control. But I have come to realize that it happens and I am not ashamed or embarrassed by it. However, I often feel guilty for having to put my friends and family through my irrational thinking and difficult behavior. But they love me and for better or worse this is me. It is a learning process of how to handle it- self-help books, therapy, medication. Before I was diagnosed with Panic Attacks do you know how many times I was in the ER- well let's just say that I am glad I have health insurance. I want to say thank you to all of the emergency personnel that have every had to deal with me because I know how frustrating it must be to make someone who truly believes they are dying believe they are okay.
My mother always told us that what happens in your family, stays in the family- sorry mom, my dirty laundry is all hanging out. I guess I just want anyone else who has ever experienced a panic attack to know that I feel for you. I am thankful that I don't have cancer or a brain tumor, haven't suffered a heart attack or stroke but Panic Disorder is real and scary with lots of physical symptoms.
Don't worry I am not turning this into a self-help blog- just needed to share.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
An Uphill Battle
I begin vacuuming the house, an almost daily chore at this point, and come to a stubborn piece of dirt that just won't get sucked up. I turn the vacuum this way and that but no luck. You know what's coming... I bend over, pick up the piece of dirt, examine it like something was wrong with it that the vacuum rejected it only to drop it back on the floor, on purpose so... Alas, the vacuum can suck it up! Why is this so gratifying? Why didn't I just throw the dirt in the garbage- I already had it in my hand? I will tell you why, because it is my personal victory, my "I got you now, you little piece of dirt" moment. Sounds like I need to get my frustrations out?
You betcha!
These small victories are a parent's highlight to the daily grind of raising children. And by parent I mean mothers because let's face it- a father's victory is starting off the day with a good BM, which they have to tell you about, having someone else cook and clean for him, getting sex and then ending the day with one of the many movies men consider classics- Cliffhanger, Roadhouse or Backdraft. (All three movies were on the other day, overlapping each other and I thought Bill was going to stroke out trying to decide which one to watch).
I am lucky if I can go to the bathroom with the door closed, drink one cup a coffee at one time (I usually heat up my coffee an average of 3 times each morning), take a shower, get myself appropriately dressed- (not sweats) and manage to catch a recap of the daily news on the radio as I am driving here or there.
Here are some situations that I thought I was winning the losing battle but apparently I am still the biggest loser:
Cleaning the house is one of the things that makes me happy- not the actual cleaning part but afterwards knowing that everything is clean and in its place but again with two kids how long does that last... 1, 2, 3 minutes at best. The other day I had finished vacuuming- I walk back into the living room to see pieces of chips strewn EVERYWHERE!
"Olivia- what are you doing?!"
"Daddy said I could have them."
URGGGGG!
Got into the shower after a busy morning- finally got the kids situated in my bed, watching Nick Jr.- I know, I know- TV for my 7 month old- I am not going for mother of the year here, so back off. Anyway, get into the nice hot shower and start shampooing my hair...
"mooommy, I have to poop."
"Of course you do."
Going to the grocery store with NO kids- that in it of itself is a personal victory. For a bonus I have my coupons and save $30! I get home, all proud of myself and as I am putting things away realize that I forgot this and that and this- pretty much $30 worth of stuff.
Actually planning out an outfit to wear, including jewelry, doing my hair and thinking I look good for that day. I get where I am going and happen to pass some mirror somewhere and do a double take.... was that me? Oh... My.... God! I did not look like that at home. However, that could have something to do with the fact that I had no time to check myself out before I left the house. I just had that picture in my mind how I looked, which was good but apparently... not so much!
Speaking of getting out of the house- that is a personal victory every time it happens. I am usually the last to get ready. Liam first, because he can't talk back to me or run away yet. Then Olivia- underwear, shirt, pants, socks and sneakers. I finally get ready and head towards the door...
"Olivia! Where are your shoes, socks and pants?!"
Each personal victory makes the climb up the mountain of motherhood a little easier- even when the victory is short lived.
You betcha!
These small victories are a parent's highlight to the daily grind of raising children. And by parent I mean mothers because let's face it- a father's victory is starting off the day with a good BM, which they have to tell you about, having someone else cook and clean for him, getting sex and then ending the day with one of the many movies men consider classics- Cliffhanger, Roadhouse or Backdraft. (All three movies were on the other day, overlapping each other and I thought Bill was going to stroke out trying to decide which one to watch).
I am lucky if I can go to the bathroom with the door closed, drink one cup a coffee at one time (I usually heat up my coffee an average of 3 times each morning), take a shower, get myself appropriately dressed- (not sweats) and manage to catch a recap of the daily news on the radio as I am driving here or there.
Here are some situations that I thought I was winning the losing battle but apparently I am still the biggest loser:
Cleaning the house is one of the things that makes me happy- not the actual cleaning part but afterwards knowing that everything is clean and in its place but again with two kids how long does that last... 1, 2, 3 minutes at best. The other day I had finished vacuuming- I walk back into the living room to see pieces of chips strewn EVERYWHERE!
"Olivia- what are you doing?!"
"Daddy said I could have them."
URGGGGG!
Got into the shower after a busy morning- finally got the kids situated in my bed, watching Nick Jr.- I know, I know- TV for my 7 month old- I am not going for mother of the year here, so back off. Anyway, get into the nice hot shower and start shampooing my hair...
"mooommy, I have to poop."
"Of course you do."
Going to the grocery store with NO kids- that in it of itself is a personal victory. For a bonus I have my coupons and save $30! I get home, all proud of myself and as I am putting things away realize that I forgot this and that and this- pretty much $30 worth of stuff.
Actually planning out an outfit to wear, including jewelry, doing my hair and thinking I look good for that day. I get where I am going and happen to pass some mirror somewhere and do a double take.... was that me? Oh... My.... God! I did not look like that at home. However, that could have something to do with the fact that I had no time to check myself out before I left the house. I just had that picture in my mind how I looked, which was good but apparently... not so much!
Speaking of getting out of the house- that is a personal victory every time it happens. I am usually the last to get ready. Liam first, because he can't talk back to me or run away yet. Then Olivia- underwear, shirt, pants, socks and sneakers. I finally get ready and head towards the door...
"Olivia! Where are your shoes, socks and pants?!"
Each personal victory makes the climb up the mountain of motherhood a little easier- even when the victory is short lived.
Monday, January 18, 2010
The Grocery Store
Picture it: Poughkeepsie, January 2010 a young girl in a blue dress walks with her shopping cart...
I must be a glutton for punishment because 1. I decide to go to Stop and Shop with my two kids and 2. I allowed Olivia to go to the store dressed in her blue Cinderella outfit, wand included with her toy shopping cart. Let the games begin...
I have Liam in his car seat in my shopping cart (not cradled in the front of the cart- that just makes me nervous) and Liv has her baby doll sitting shotgun in her cart next to her magic wand, bag of gold fish and water cup. Thankfully it is mid week, mid day and the store is fairly empty and I only need a few things. We begin our shopping. At first fellow shoppers are smiling and saying, "how cute" until Olivia, who is busy looking all around plows her shopping cart into a display stand and packages of napkins go flying. I quickly hurry to pick them up when a store attendant comes to my aid. I apologize and explain that I figured it would keep her busy. The store attendant is looking back at me like I am a real genius. Thanks.
What did I get myself into...
We continue on. I remind Olivia that she needs to look forward, steer her cart and keep close to me. I go down the aisles picking up what I need while keeping one eye on Olivia. She continues to look around while pushing her cart and I have lost count of how many times she has hit into something. At one point she banged into the end of the aisle and the cart went crashing over, Olivia fell to the floor, the magic wand was ejected from the cart as were all the goldfish- flying in different directions and her water cup went rolling down the aisle. Thankfully her baby doll stayed securely in her cart. Now crying, I scoop her up, upright the cart, try to pick up as many goldfish as I can and stuff them in my pockets while nonchalantly sweeping the rest of them into a pile at the end of the aisle and grab her cup and wand. Of Course now she wants her snack but the goldfish have gone belly up so we head back to the snack aisle to avoid another tantrum. We finally make it to the checkout (after a trip to the bathroom, another roll over of her cart and several stops to empty her cart of things she so nicely picked out herself). Poor Liam, I think he is still in the cart, somewhere between the cat food and milk. I shuffle Olivia ahead of me and she asks to help put the groceries in bags. I agree but ask her to wait until I get the stuff out of the cart. As I am doing so, I see a store attendant come over to start bagging the groceries- NOOOOOO! Good God Man- I am so close to getting out of here without a tantrum. I quickly explain that my daughter likes to help bag the groceries- so he hands her a bag full of groceries to put in her cart. She looks at him and then at me....
crying ensues.
"mooommy I want to put the stuff in the bags".
"I know huni" as I give the attendant the evil eye.
Now Liam starts crying.
GREAT!
I start putting stuff down for Olivia to put in her bag while throwing stuff in bags and trying to then position those bags strategically in the cart so as not to suffocate Liam. $200! What the hell did I buy and did I even get anything on my list- Finally heading to the door and into the parking lot. I pick up Olivia and her cart and push my cart- well wouldn't you know it, right in the middle of the parking lot- I hit a bump and two of my bags on the bottom of the cart jump ship.
I should have just planned on ordering out for every meal for the next week.
I must be a glutton for punishment because 1. I decide to go to Stop and Shop with my two kids and 2. I allowed Olivia to go to the store dressed in her blue Cinderella outfit, wand included with her toy shopping cart. Let the games begin...
I have Liam in his car seat in my shopping cart (not cradled in the front of the cart- that just makes me nervous) and Liv has her baby doll sitting shotgun in her cart next to her magic wand, bag of gold fish and water cup. Thankfully it is mid week, mid day and the store is fairly empty and I only need a few things. We begin our shopping. At first fellow shoppers are smiling and saying, "how cute" until Olivia, who is busy looking all around plows her shopping cart into a display stand and packages of napkins go flying. I quickly hurry to pick them up when a store attendant comes to my aid. I apologize and explain that I figured it would keep her busy. The store attendant is looking back at me like I am a real genius. Thanks.
What did I get myself into...
We continue on. I remind Olivia that she needs to look forward, steer her cart and keep close to me. I go down the aisles picking up what I need while keeping one eye on Olivia. She continues to look around while pushing her cart and I have lost count of how many times she has hit into something. At one point she banged into the end of the aisle and the cart went crashing over, Olivia fell to the floor, the magic wand was ejected from the cart as were all the goldfish- flying in different directions and her water cup went rolling down the aisle. Thankfully her baby doll stayed securely in her cart. Now crying, I scoop her up, upright the cart, try to pick up as many goldfish as I can and stuff them in my pockets while nonchalantly sweeping the rest of them into a pile at the end of the aisle and grab her cup and wand. Of Course now she wants her snack but the goldfish have gone belly up so we head back to the snack aisle to avoid another tantrum. We finally make it to the checkout (after a trip to the bathroom, another roll over of her cart and several stops to empty her cart of things she so nicely picked out herself). Poor Liam, I think he is still in the cart, somewhere between the cat food and milk. I shuffle Olivia ahead of me and she asks to help put the groceries in bags. I agree but ask her to wait until I get the stuff out of the cart. As I am doing so, I see a store attendant come over to start bagging the groceries- NOOOOOO! Good God Man- I am so close to getting out of here without a tantrum. I quickly explain that my daughter likes to help bag the groceries- so he hands her a bag full of groceries to put in her cart. She looks at him and then at me....
crying ensues.
"mooommy I want to put the stuff in the bags".
"I know huni" as I give the attendant the evil eye.
Now Liam starts crying.
GREAT!
I start putting stuff down for Olivia to put in her bag while throwing stuff in bags and trying to then position those bags strategically in the cart so as not to suffocate Liam. $200! What the hell did I buy and did I even get anything on my list- Finally heading to the door and into the parking lot. I pick up Olivia and her cart and push my cart- well wouldn't you know it, right in the middle of the parking lot- I hit a bump and two of my bags on the bottom of the cart jump ship.
I should have just planned on ordering out for every meal for the next week.
Two Kids
About a month prior to Liam's birth I really started to realize how different my life was going to be with two children. Olivia could walk, talk, feed herself and was starting to potty train. I had also gotten some other freedoms back like my purse instead of stuffing my wallet and other purse paraphernalia into an already cramped diaper bag. The pain of impending labor was not scaring me it was the thought of getting out of the house with two kids. Flashbacks of getting out of the house with a new baby-between feedings, changings and naps plus the aches and pains of my body from carrying the infant car seat and over packed diaper bag came flooding back. Let's just veer off track for a second and talk about the diaper bag- I don't know about anyone else but I always over pack and the diaper bag is no exception: extra clothes for baby and for me ( I learned the hard way that breastfeeding moms should always pack an extra shirt- 4th of July party after Olivia was born and my sister looked at me with eyes wide open. I looked down to see that the right side of my shirt was soaked. Thank God it was raining out so it could have looked like I had gotten wet. I quickly put a receiving blanket over my right side and made a bee line for the car), pacifiers, diaper cream, wipes, diapers, hand wipes, thermometer, infant Tylenol, nail clippers, nail files, bibs, burb cloth, blanket, disposable bags for dirty diapers, band-aids, Neosporin and tissues. But let's face it, whatever is in there that we think we are going to use, we never use. But heaven forbid you forget to pack something you will need it- the one day I didn't pack an extra outfit for Olivia she pooped all over and I had to strip her down in the dressing room of Old Navy, swaddle her in a blanket and go purchase an outfit. Now being a first time mother I had nightmares that she would break out with a rash because I was putting these new clothes on her fragile baby body without washing them first. Ha! All was fine and she ended up with a very cute new outfit. Anyway, where was I.... oh yes, going out with two kids. Well little Liam was born and things were going surprisingly well. He was/is a great baby and easy going. One day I decided it was time to venture out to the mall. I packed us all up in the car and drove to Macy's. Double stroller out, kids in and off we went to return something. Back to the car to drive around to Target. I am feeling pretty accomplished- Liam is still sleeping, Olivia is content with her snack. I hop out of the car in the Target parking lot, open the back door and reach in for... Where the hell is the double stroller! I just had it. I frantically look around as if it is already out- well it was- left behind in the Macy's parking lot. Shit! I get back in, double checking to make sure both kids were in the car and drove like a maniac back around the mall. As I am pulling in to the Macy's parking lot I see a man walking my double stroller towards the entrance to the store- "Wait!" I pull up to the curb- almost onto it and run out of the car yelling, "sir, sir that is my stroller!" He smiled and wheeled it back to me.
"I figured someone forgot it the way it was just sitting in the middle of the parking lot."
I laugh and hurry back to the car to hide my sheer mortification of the situation.
And back home I went.
Later that afternoon Bill comes home from work and asks how my day went. Olivia quickly answers, "mommy forgot the stroller in the parking lot."
Tattle tale!
"I figured someone forgot it the way it was just sitting in the middle of the parking lot."
I laugh and hurry back to the car to hide my sheer mortification of the situation.
And back home I went.
Later that afternoon Bill comes home from work and asks how my day went. Olivia quickly answers, "mommy forgot the stroller in the parking lot."
Tattle tale!
Friday, January 15, 2010
The Gym
Wine in my water bottle, a cigarette in hand, on my laptop facebooking away with an open bag on Doritos next to me... of course I am wearing the sweatsuit and sneakers I bought to go to the gym but really- they are not looking for people like me; or are they...
My attempt at the gym starts with the poster on the door that reads, "getting here is half the battle" (okay, I'm here- can I sit down, the walk from my car to the door was exhausting). And let's talk about the smell- just pure sweat- so far the only glimmer of hope is the snack bar I spot out of the corner of my eye. Sadly, I am informed there are no nachos and cheese or bags of chips just something called protein shakes and any kind of bran product you can think of. So I push forward, up the stairs (where are the elevators) off to the track.
Okay, I can walk, I do it all day long- back and forth in the house. I start walking and BOOM, BOOM, BOOM- there go the runners- overachievers! Anyway, here I am on my way to good health, happiness, a thin me and all that BS they try to sell you when you get sucked in to a gym membership. Apparently I believed this because here I am. Walking, walking...one lap then two, then three- hey I can do this until my sister says, "okay you warmed up?"
Warmed up?! For what...
We hit the treadmills. I get a good pace going at 2.5 miles per hour. My sister starts running- 6 miles per hour- oh well, I can step it up- 2.8 here I come. Great, here comes little miss thin mint on the other side of me. But she is only walking too- I glance over. 3.5 mph- oh Jesus. Fine I'll step it up- 3.3mph. I can do that. 3 minutes in I feel the need to check my heart rate- 120! It hasn't been that high since labor! I am really working up a sweat- I'm doing great! I look at how many calories I've burned- 30 calories. I don't think I've burned off a breath mint let alone the McDonald's value meal I had for lunch. Okay, keep going- all I can think is what am I gonna eat for dinner- pork chops, mashed potatoes and Oreos for dessert- sounds good to me.
I make it through 30 minutes of "cardio" and my sister insists on crunches. Listen, two kids later and this baby belly is as permanent as my tattoos- but fine. So I do a set of 10, then another and another. I try to get up and lay back down. I tell my sister to leave me behind. When did a healthy, vital 20 something become an aching 30 something? ouch.
I finally pick myself up and we head home.
"So we'll go again on Wednesday?"
"Sure. What Wednesday next year do you want to go..."
My attempt at the gym starts with the poster on the door that reads, "getting here is half the battle" (okay, I'm here- can I sit down, the walk from my car to the door was exhausting). And let's talk about the smell- just pure sweat- so far the only glimmer of hope is the snack bar I spot out of the corner of my eye. Sadly, I am informed there are no nachos and cheese or bags of chips just something called protein shakes and any kind of bran product you can think of. So I push forward, up the stairs (where are the elevators) off to the track.
Okay, I can walk, I do it all day long- back and forth in the house. I start walking and BOOM, BOOM, BOOM- there go the runners- overachievers! Anyway, here I am on my way to good health, happiness, a thin me and all that BS they try to sell you when you get sucked in to a gym membership. Apparently I believed this because here I am. Walking, walking...one lap then two, then three- hey I can do this until my sister says, "okay you warmed up?"
Warmed up?! For what...
We hit the treadmills. I get a good pace going at 2.5 miles per hour. My sister starts running- 6 miles per hour- oh well, I can step it up- 2.8 here I come. Great, here comes little miss thin mint on the other side of me. But she is only walking too- I glance over. 3.5 mph- oh Jesus. Fine I'll step it up- 3.3mph. I can do that. 3 minutes in I feel the need to check my heart rate- 120! It hasn't been that high since labor! I am really working up a sweat- I'm doing great! I look at how many calories I've burned- 30 calories. I don't think I've burned off a breath mint let alone the McDonald's value meal I had for lunch. Okay, keep going- all I can think is what am I gonna eat for dinner- pork chops, mashed potatoes and Oreos for dessert- sounds good to me.
I make it through 30 minutes of "cardio" and my sister insists on crunches. Listen, two kids later and this baby belly is as permanent as my tattoos- but fine. So I do a set of 10, then another and another. I try to get up and lay back down. I tell my sister to leave me behind. When did a healthy, vital 20 something become an aching 30 something? ouch.
I finally pick myself up and we head home.
"So we'll go again on Wednesday?"
"Sure. What Wednesday next year do you want to go..."
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Public Restrooms
Being the mother of two young children I now look at public restrooms differently- germ-o-rama. Now I should preface this by saying that public restrooms have never really bothered me- many a drunken night at a bar or deperately needing to pee every five minutes when I was pregnant- there was no time to put the paper toilet cover on, or plaster the seat with toilet paper like my mom used to do when I was young and hovering- yeah, well when you weigh an extra 20 plus pounds with a baby sitting on your bladder I think that is just ridiculous. Anyway, now that I am older and wiser (maybe not, maybe just care more about what my children are touching) the trip to the bathroom starts when we enter the store.
"mommy, I have to pee".
"of course you do".
mind you she has used the bathroom at home right before we left.
I head the big double stroller towards the bathroom repeating over and over again, "don't touch anything, don't touch anything".
Now attempting to open the door to the bathroom and maneuver my double stroller inside is a feat in it of itself. (oh and when it is in the middle of winter and we are all bundled up that is the best- I am now sweating and we haven't even been out of the house for a full hour yet!) so we make it to the biggest of the handicap toilets, which still doesn't want to accomodate my double stroller so I push it in as far as it will go, door still ajar and proceed to look for the paper toilet cover to which there are none (of course). I reach my hand up the toilet paper wheel because of course there is no toilet paper hanging down and start to pull off sheets of paper, what I think are sheets but are just shreds. By now my daughter is starting to wander around the stall and I am still saying, "don't touch anything, don't touch anything". I decide to hover her over the toilet and out comes one tiny drop- "I'm all done mommy".
"of course you are".
I maneuver the stroller out of the stall and help Olivia wash her hands. The sinks are those that you place your hands under and water automatically comes out- fabulous! except I picked the one freakin' sink that is broken and Olivia and I are frantically waving our hands under the spout with no water coming out. Still holding her up in front of me, I shuffle us down to another sink where luckily the water pours out but no soap in the dispenser! I finally just give her some hand sanitizer and a paper towel and call it a day. Done right? No I still have to get the luxury cruiser out of the bathroom. I open the door with my butt (thank goodness for the extra padding- comes in handy) and pull the stroller out while a woman is waiting to come in to the bathroom- do you think she could hold the door for me. NO! good for you lady, stand there looking annoyed while I have just completed the ultimate mom marathon. Thanks. By this time I have no idea what store I am in or what I came for.
As a side note I would like to offer this suggestion to the engineers that design these bathrooms: could you make all the the features in the bathroom hands free- the toilet should automatically flush, the soap should dispense when you place your hands under it, same with the water and either a hand blower that you do not have to touch or a paper towel dispenser you wave to- I really like those. Then as a final touch could you put a door in that you have to push out so when you exit you don't have to touch the handle. I have yet to find a bathroom with all of these features together and I have pretty much visited all of them in Dutchess County between pregnancy and potty training. It does me no good to put soap on my hands and turn on the faucet and then turn it off, only to push the lever on the paper towel dispenser and then pull the handle of the door.
Thank you Purell.
"mommy, I have to pee".
"of course you do".
mind you she has used the bathroom at home right before we left.
I head the big double stroller towards the bathroom repeating over and over again, "don't touch anything, don't touch anything".
Now attempting to open the door to the bathroom and maneuver my double stroller inside is a feat in it of itself. (oh and when it is in the middle of winter and we are all bundled up that is the best- I am now sweating and we haven't even been out of the house for a full hour yet!) so we make it to the biggest of the handicap toilets, which still doesn't want to accomodate my double stroller so I push it in as far as it will go, door still ajar and proceed to look for the paper toilet cover to which there are none (of course). I reach my hand up the toilet paper wheel because of course there is no toilet paper hanging down and start to pull off sheets of paper, what I think are sheets but are just shreds. By now my daughter is starting to wander around the stall and I am still saying, "don't touch anything, don't touch anything". I decide to hover her over the toilet and out comes one tiny drop- "I'm all done mommy".
"of course you are".
I maneuver the stroller out of the stall and help Olivia wash her hands. The sinks are those that you place your hands under and water automatically comes out- fabulous! except I picked the one freakin' sink that is broken and Olivia and I are frantically waving our hands under the spout with no water coming out. Still holding her up in front of me, I shuffle us down to another sink where luckily the water pours out but no soap in the dispenser! I finally just give her some hand sanitizer and a paper towel and call it a day. Done right? No I still have to get the luxury cruiser out of the bathroom. I open the door with my butt (thank goodness for the extra padding- comes in handy) and pull the stroller out while a woman is waiting to come in to the bathroom- do you think she could hold the door for me. NO! good for you lady, stand there looking annoyed while I have just completed the ultimate mom marathon. Thanks. By this time I have no idea what store I am in or what I came for.
As a side note I would like to offer this suggestion to the engineers that design these bathrooms: could you make all the the features in the bathroom hands free- the toilet should automatically flush, the soap should dispense when you place your hands under it, same with the water and either a hand blower that you do not have to touch or a paper towel dispenser you wave to- I really like those. Then as a final touch could you put a door in that you have to push out so when you exit you don't have to touch the handle. I have yet to find a bathroom with all of these features together and I have pretty much visited all of them in Dutchess County between pregnancy and potty training. It does me no good to put soap on my hands and turn on the faucet and then turn it off, only to push the lever on the paper towel dispenser and then pull the handle of the door.
Thank you Purell.
I walk quietly down the hallway, hoping my footsteps are quiet enough so that Olivia will not call for me.
"Mommy" (in that child-like, sing song voice)
Too late! As I make an about face and go into her room to tuck her in to bed for the 10th time (and this is only naptime- bedtime is worse) I am doing my breathing exercises so I can calmly tell her to GO TO BED!
This is just a little preview of my day to day life as a stay at home mom. Once a highly intelligent, motivated, working woman named RaeAnn I look in the mirror to see a sleepy-eyed, baby brained hot mess that used to be me and is only known as mom, ma, MOMMY!
I often go through the days talking to myself about my day, that is when I am not having a highly intelligent conversation with my 2 1/2 year old. This usually consists of answering the question "why" to the point that I start believing the made up answers I give her. Or I am babbling back and forth to my 7 month old. I think some of the stuff that goes on around here is pretty funny so I figured I would start a blog to share my stories and give myself an outlet.
Btw, this one entry took me 2 hours as I was continuously interrupted to tell my daughter to take a nap. In an effort to get 5 minutes to myself to finish writing I gave in and told her she could read books in bed instead of napping. I don't know why I thought that would give me a break because it turned into her calling me every 5 minutes, "mommy, I need more books, I need to pee, I need a snack..." and now little Liam is stirring from his nap....
until next time
"Mommy" (in that child-like, sing song voice)
Too late! As I make an about face and go into her room to tuck her in to bed for the 10th time (and this is only naptime- bedtime is worse) I am doing my breathing exercises so I can calmly tell her to GO TO BED!
This is just a little preview of my day to day life as a stay at home mom. Once a highly intelligent, motivated, working woman named RaeAnn I look in the mirror to see a sleepy-eyed, baby brained hot mess that used to be me and is only known as mom, ma, MOMMY!
I often go through the days talking to myself about my day, that is when I am not having a highly intelligent conversation with my 2 1/2 year old. This usually consists of answering the question "why" to the point that I start believing the made up answers I give her. Or I am babbling back and forth to my 7 month old. I think some of the stuff that goes on around here is pretty funny so I figured I would start a blog to share my stories and give myself an outlet.
Btw, this one entry took me 2 hours as I was continuously interrupted to tell my daughter to take a nap. In an effort to get 5 minutes to myself to finish writing I gave in and told her she could read books in bed instead of napping. I don't know why I thought that would give me a break because it turned into her calling me every 5 minutes, "mommy, I need more books, I need to pee, I need a snack..." and now little Liam is stirring from his nap....
until next time
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