Looking Forward to ... Nothing!

We're back safe and sound. The kids and I (despite my initial reluctance as mentioned in now deleted post) had a lovely time at Moo and Popsy's house. They played, but mostly they spent their time at the pool splashing, doing their tricks and having fun. Our trip there was event-less.

We didn't leave the house. We didn't do much to speak of. And despite our three days of doing nothing to speak of I have a couple of stories... I'm sharing these because Alexander is still (in my eyes) a baby. If he was older I would keep my big fat trap shut. But that's a hard thing for me to do, so I am glad that I don't have to!

After we got to Newport on Tuesday we ate lunch and then went out to play in the pool. About 20 minutes later Alexander came out and told me that he had to pee. I told him to go and pee in a bush. The house was too far to walk to (because I am lazy) and their property is large so he can safely pee in a remote area. He did his stuff and emerged screaming "Momma, Momma! My penis is purple!" And he held it out to show me a blue-ish purplish tip. "Oh no!" He then exclaimed. "I must have had too many purple Skittles in the car!"

Yesterday, about a half an hour before we were due to leave, the kids were changing out of their wet suits and I was making them lunch, Alexander starts screaming "Momma, my weenie hurts! It hurts! It hurts!" I ignored him for a short while remembering the Skittles Incident of the day before. But then it looked like he was really in pain, so I ventured over to take a look. He pulled down his little shorts and I saw the culprit. There was an ant in one of the folds! A little black ant and all these teeny tiny ant bites! Poor little guy. He really was in pain. I gave him some purple Skittles to make him feel better!

After our Second Penis Incident I loaded the kids into the car and braced myself for our 2.5 hour drive home (arewethereyet? arewethereyet? arewethereyet? arewethereyet?) with three kids whining, complaining (I'm cold! I'm hot! Turn the heat up! Open the windows! I'm carsick!) and fighting (He hit me! She pinched me! Alexander spit on me! Ewwwwwwwwww gross!) and of course every 2.5 seconds Christopher has to ask, How long have we been in the car? How long have we been in the car, now? How long have we been in the car now? This is why the car's navigation is perfect. But it needs to be turned on. And Whoever designed the Toyota/Lexus navigation system stinks. You can not activate it or turn on the settings while driving. In order to plug in an address the car must be fully stopped. Great, except when you are on the highway. And I would not recommend stopping in the middle of I-95 just to turn on your navigation device. This seems silly to me. I can hit my info button while I drive. I can see how much gas I am burning by the nanosecond. I can watch the bar graph disappear before my eyes as I get 60 mpg when I coast, then as I step ever so lightly on the gas and see that I am getting a whopping 8 mpg I'm about to pass out but I'm driving, I can't!

I should have turned that damned navigation system on. But I didn't. So I tell Christopher we are halfway there, which we are... almost. It satisfies him for a minute.

The use of cell phones, unless hands-free, is banned in the state of Connecticut. I agree with it somewhat. I do think that cell phones can be distracting. But so can kids. I mean seriously? If cell phones are banned, I seriously think that children should be banned from cars. They are distracting, and in opinion, children and driving don't mix. Like alcohol. Alcohol impairs your vision. So do children especially when they are throwing things at each other and a shoe accidentally hits the back of your head. Not that this has ever happened. But it could! Alcohol affects your judgement. As do children. Especially when you are yelling at them to quitarguingrightnow so that you can pay attention and you accidentally put the minivan in reverse (one week before you are due to trade it in) and it slams, with the tailgate up, crash-bang into the garage! And I hadn't even left the house that day. Imagine if I'd been on the highway for crying out loud! Alcohol impairs your hearing. Hell, so do children!

Do you remember those yellow plastic signs that mounted on to the back windows of cars that were so popular in the 1980s? You know the ones that said Baby on Board?

I think they should re-institute those. Mandatory by the state. A scarlet letter if you would. Children on Board. This would warn other drivers, and have them steer clear (the hell away) from you. They have signs for Student Drivers. There should be signs for mothers as well. I mean, seriously, instead of paying Geico however many hundreds of dollars a year to insure my car, myself, my children and all those (who dare to drive) around me, I think that Geico should pay me for my Five Plus Years of No Accidents No Tickets and for keeping my wits about me. Don't you think?!

We eventually reached our destination, the grocery store! Ahh, yes, after enduring a long car ride I had to tackle the grocery store... with three whiny children! (Let's face it anything more than 15 minutes with 3 or more children in a vehicle is considered a long ride!) So we got out and trudged across the Shaw's parking lot and went inside.

Amazingly enough, I survived The Grocery Store Experience unscathed! I don't think that has ever happened in my life as a mother. I sent Rebecca off to the deli to get a pound of turkey, a pound of cheese and a rotisserie chicken. The boys helped me shuck the corn, get the lettuce, cucumbers, peppers, squash, tomatoes, potatoes, lemons, limes, apples, peaches, nectarines, watermelon, and grapes.

We then got some ground beef (that was on sale that would be put in the freezer for future use) then headed down the soup, cereal, baking, salad dressing, cleaning, freezer and dairy aisles. I let them get their Push Up Pops, Edy's Ice cream (buy one get one free -- how on earth could I resist that!?) and Oreos.

I left the store with $250 less but unscathed. Hallelujah!

The weather forecast for today is terrible. Torrential storms on an off all day. We'll be home and I'll be doing nothing... nothing at all!

A game of musical beds

I now understand why some mothers and fathers have separate bedrooms. I miss our guest room. We moved from a 2200 sq. ft. house to one that is 4500 sq. ft. We traded in the Guest Room/Office for a proper office. How I miss that old room!

The other night I was kicked out of the bedroom at 9:30. Daddy wanted to hit the hay early as he is out of the house daily at the crack of dawn. He cannot fall asleep with me plunking on my keyboard and the television on. (I was watching FoodNetwork Star.) So I went downstairs with my laptop and a pillow and settled myself comfortably on the couch. I couldn't fall asleep. (The internet does that to me sometimes.)

And there was a violent storm outside. So violent it was that I went to the front hall closet in search of two large flashlights. For Just in Case. I find when I am prepared I don't need them. The storm was bright, loud and scary. Finally at 11:30 I shut off the computer and focused on the television... and eventually my eyes felt heavy enough to close. I was too tired to drag my body upstairs so I fell asleep on the couch. It's quite comfortable.

A short while later the AC kicked on. A humongous roar escaped from the deep, dark belly of the basement. And not long after that the television turned itself off which woke me up. And then I was awake. I knew that every little noise would wake me up from there on in so I trudged upstairs to bed. There I found Alexander snuggled up next to Daddy. I crawled in next to them. And the thunder rolled. Not outside though. The thunder in the bedroom. And not the kind you're thinking! The annoying sound of a freight train escaping my sleeping husband's lips. Argh.

So I crawled into Alexander's bed and snuggled up with all 101 stuffed animals. A short while later there was a crash and the lights came on. "Turn them off, NOW!" I shouted. A Startled Alexander promptly did what he was told and crawled in next to me, and all 101 and one animals. I was smooshed up against the wall. By this point I was vaguely aware of the fact I would be getting no sleep whatsoever that night.

At some point I managed to get up and sneak away from a slumbering Alexander and crawl back in to my own bed. The thunderous noise had subsided. I fell fast asleep. Until I heard the stomping (there is no pitter-patter when it comes to Alexander) of little feet across the carpeted hallway floor. And back in with me he crawled. I fell into a deep sleep for about a half an hour until Daddy's alarm clock went off at 5:15.

I vaguely heard him get out of bed and crunch across the hard wood floor. I vaguely heard him close the bathroom door. I vaguely heard the shower. I was up at 7:15. The past two hours were the best sleep I had had all night.

We need a guest room.

I can't wait until the kids are grown and gone and in college!

Oooh boy...

First of all I have to be honest and up-front. I have outgrown my Big Girl Panties. No, no, no. I have not suddenly wizened-up and turned into a mature, self-reliant, sensible, mature woman overnight. Far from it. But I have managed to put on a few pounds over the past couple of weeks. Ugh. All those buttery, fried, sugary calories have gotten to me. All those days bundled up in fleece (with elasticized waists) with nothing to do but seek shelter from the storms and read and eat. And read and eat and eat and eat some more! And since my fleece pants and yoga pants are all elasticized they expanded with my growing waistband! And now my Big Girl Panties are tight. And uncomfortable. So this now gives me carte blanche in the whining department! I can't put my Big Girl Panties on goddammit... they don't fit!!

So here's my vacation recap as told to you by me not wearing my Big Girl Panties!

The drive up the coast was lovely and we had no traffic to speak of. I broke the sound barrier and wasted insane amounts of gas and depleted another layer in our Ozone layer. But Granny Behind the Wheel I am not. My speeding ticket (had I been clocked) would have been ridiculous. But I was on a mission. To get to Maine. (Last night I was on a mission... to get back home!) I had a Dumb Dude in a 1990 VW Jetta (might possibly have been mine!) with an engine louder than the Concorde's try to race me. The bottom of his car practically scraping along the highway. Loser. Get over yourself. Then I got cut off by some Biatch in a Navigator. From New York, go figure. I used half a container of wiper fluid. SUVs are not ergonomically designed. Lots of bugs get killed along the way. Lots. It was kind of gross, actually. The highlight of my trip was when I was in the EZ Pass Lane and in the lane to my left was a black Land Cruiser with 4 college co-eds. 4 really cute college co-eds, hanging out their windows, shouting sweet nothings at me. They were hot! I couldn't help but smile. I had three kids in the back. So very Mrs. Robinson! I passed through the toll and blew them a kiss and a wave as I sped away. No, not really! Sounded good though!

Got to Maine in record time. Picked up the keys and went to the condo. We've been going to the same condo a few years now, but this was a different unit. I was not wearing my Big Girl Panties that day, although they did fit, and well. And this place was filthy. Gross. Nasty. I wasn't talking a little sand on the floor, because after all at the beach you expect a little sand... I mean Sand Happens... (hee-hee that's cute!) but this was not just sand. This was dirt. And crumbs. Dust and dirt. This was gross. I wanted to cry. I spent two days scouring my own home so that when I came home I would come home to a nice, neat and clean house. And now I had to clean what was to be my vacation home for the next two weeks?

What was the alternative?

So we did.

We cleaned counters, the fridge, tables, floors, the front of the dishwasher, the sink... you name it, we cleaned it. The inside of the fridge was gross. The inside of the freezer was gross. We cleaned and cleaned and cleaned some more. I took all the comforters off the beds and washed them in the washing machine. I emptied all the dishes from the cabinets and put them in the dishwasher. I was miffed at how people could live like this. In the end it was all done and the condo sparkled. But I still felt dirty. And felt dirty for the remainder of the trip.

I went to the grocery store that night and got everything we needed for the week.

I ate well that first week. Yogurts, salads, raw veggies and lots of fruit. Daddy went back home on Sunday and it was just the kids and me. Then Daddy came back and the bad weather came as well. Bathing suits and cute cover ups were put aside for cool weather clothing. We kept as busy as we could. And we ate a lot... lobster dripping in butter... fried shrimp, clams and other goodies... fabulous ice cream, Whoopie Pies... a few Stella Artois... Bud Lights with Lime...Not to mention all the cookies, chips and sandwiches that were consumed when we were at the beach, bundled up in the brisk temperatures... You get the idea!

I brought my scale. I brought my scale on vacation! What kind of loser does that???? I brought the scale so that I could monitor my eating. I monitored it all right... Monitored it as it climbed up and up and up and a-way!!! Dammit!

And I am pretty sure that the crappy little dryer at the condo didn't shrink my Big Girl Panties.

And they are not so comfortable right now. And I can't go on South Beach right now. We're off to Newport for a couple of days and I am not going to (don't want to!) do a great big grocery shopping at the moment. Daddy won't eat most of the stuff and I don't want it sitting and going to waste. And I'm lazy. I don't feel like dragging all the kids out. So we will eat what we have in the house. While it seems we have nothing I could probably feed us all for a few days without setting foot in a store. Except for milk which I need for my morning cappuccino.

I have no lettuce, apples, or other good Diet Food. So I had oatmeal for breakfast, which is healthy. But not the way I cooked it today. And I meant to take a bite but I ended up eating a whole damned bowlful... I made it with apple slices sauteed in brown sugar and cinnamon and butter and then I tossed all the cooked oatmeal (never instant) into my fried apple deliciousness... Damn. And I had an oatmeal trail mix bar for lunch. Right out of the freezer. Damn. And I made the kids some pudding today for their afternoon snack. And I had a cup of that too. Damn. And dinner was pasta with sun dried tomatoes, minced black and green olives, grilled chicken, sauteed sausage, artichokes and onions with grated Parmesan cheese... Damn. Damn. Double. Tripple Damn. I fear my Big Girl Panties may never fit well again!

And since my Big Girl Panties are not on (and won't be for the foreseeable future at this rate) I need to tell you that I came home to a full dishwasher that needed to be emptied, a sink full of dishes (at least they were rinsed) ... did I say that I had the house spotless before I left so that I could come home to a clean house? Sheesh...

Ok, enough whining for me. Going off now to see what's in the freezer. I need something sweet to eat...

The Rain in Maine Stays Mainly in Maine!

8:19 am

It couldn’t possibly be a more miserable day. The rain is unrelenting. We can hear it hammering down on the rooftops and slamming against the windows. I do love a good rain storm. I do love to be wrapped up on the couch with a good book, blanket and pile of pillows stacked neatly beneath my head. I’ve read a lot of books this trip. I’m about to finish my third and, so far, favorite book Julie & Julia about a youngish New Yorker who documents her year of trying to follow all the recipes in Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking. It’ fun and real and hilarious and it is definitely my favorite book of the summer. For anyone interested in food and/or cooking, this is one you’ll have a hard time putting down, especially if you are on vacation in Maine and it’s done nothing but rain!

We did have a couple of beach days. We had one lovely day where even I dared enter the cold, dark Atlantic waters! And then the weather turned considerably icky. We did have fun that day we went fishing in the rain, and on Wednesday, despite being cool and overcast we spent all morning out on the boat attempting to fish. Yesterday we hit a water park called Aquaboggan. It was a balmy (at best) 64 degrees out. The kids were freezing but they had a blast. (Think just 30 degrees colder and it’d be cold enough for snow!)

Because the weather was so dismal the water park was virtually empty, save for our large clan and the kids had no wait for any of the rides. Why hit a water park in near arctic temperatures you ask? Because you cannot sit in a small condo all day when you have three kids, two of which are very energetic little boys! Because they all want to hang out with their cousins and the onshore breezes at the beach would have felt even frostier than we all felt at the water park… And because you can only kill so much time at a movie theater… and because outlet shopping is not in the cards this year.

Vacations sure do take on a different meaning when kids factor in to the picture. Vacations with babies are definitely not vacations. They are trips. They are neither enjoyable nor relaxing. I do not miss those days of chasing-hovering-wiping-stressing and coming home even more uptight than before I had even left. I do not miss the days of schlepping bottles and cups and diapers and wipes and Pack and Plays and booster seats and high chairs and dealing with screaming fits in long (relentless) car rides up the New England coast line.

And even now that I have no bottles, cups, diapers, wipes, booster seats, Pack and Plays and relatively few screaming fits up the New England Coastline I still have children. Children that get sick and children that need to be fed and cleaned. With children comes dirt. So despite my vacation I still have to make (for the most part) breakfasts, lunches and an occasional dinner. I still have to do the dishes and clean up. There is sand to sweep and crumbs to vacuum and counters to wipe down and I still have laundry to tackle (easily a load a day) and I still have to entertain my troops when we are not off gallivanting around (in the rain!)

As I sit at my laptop composing something in Word that hopefully will get posted today when I get to a place with internet access, the Disney channel is on in the background, the rain is still plummeting to the ground and we must once again come up with something to do. Rain on any vacation is a bummer, but right now I remember fondly those days where vacations were truly vacations… whether we were in Italy, France or England… Bermuda or the Bahamas… rain or shine… vacations were as they were meant to be. We had only ourselves to worry about. We ate and we drank and we relaxed and of course it was disappointing not to be in the sunshine but a little rain meant an extra nap, an extra drink or an extra snack… and did not require a Degree in Mastering The Fine Art of Entertaining Your Children on Vacation which can suck the life out of you. I’m ready to head home, as we will be tomorrow. I’m longing for my bed and my shower and my things… I’m not entirely looking forward to unpacking all of our crap and putting all of our crap away. We’ll be heading to Newport for a few days this week and I’ll need to repack again. I think it’s pretty safe to say that most of my Sunday will be spent catching up on everyone’s blog and letting my kids enjoy being at home for a short while!

Update 12:10 pm

The faucet in the sky doesn’t seem to be turning off any time soon. The kids have read, watched TV, run around in the rain, eaten their weight in Charms lollipops, Blowpops, Whistle Pops, Bottle Caps, and Smarties, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as we are out of food and I am certainly not hitting the grocery store before heading back home. We’re growing moldy. We’ve worn nothing but swimsuits, heavy fleece pullovers, running shoes worn for the sole purpose of running away from rain or jumping over puddles a la OJ Simpson in the days of Hertz commercials and not in the days of his running from the law. I’ve washed the same sweatshirts and towels and bathing suits over and over and over again.

We’ve only worn real clothes once on our trip. A combined 5oth Anniversary-Slash-70th Birthday Party was thrown for both sets of grandparents at a lovely house on remote Peak’s Island, a charming and rustic island set 20 minutes (by ferry) off of the Portland coast. The boys looked adorable in navy blazers, polo shirts, madras shorts and flip flops. Rebecca wore her pink and green Lilly dress and went barefoot, a result of a driving moccasin rubbing again bare skin casualty. It was a lovely and (unheard of for this season) sunny day.

Other than that day only casual clothes have been worn. Burberry and Brooks Brother’s jackets, Gucci loafers and jewelry have remained in the condo. Tory Burch sandals were worn only to my meeting Anita Shreve. I did have a cashmere sweater on that night, around my waist. Jeans and sweats and flip flops are the norm here. Only when worn over bathing suits. It’s an easy breezy fashion lifestyle. And I admit to loving it while I am here. I couldn’t feel more relaxed in my white Gap T-shirt and old, navy fleece pants. I’ll not change to go to the movies. I’ll just toss on my running shoes. My hair is loosely tossed back into a pony tail. At home I would not dare leave the house this way. Even in inclement weather. I’d have on perhaps some little black leggings, a cute tunic and slosh around under my beige, black, red and white plaid umbrella. My hair, despite the downpour, would be tidy too. There is much to be said about just being comfortable though. And there is much to be said regarding my ever growing waistline. This foul weather is not helping any at all. I can’t wait to be home and get back into shape. It’ll take a week or so again to undo all the damage I’ve done and to comfortably be able to zip up my jeans. I’m mad at myself for letting myself go… but who can resist a damn good whoopee pie and a nice ice cold beer at the end of even a rainy day? Who can resist native soft shell lobster dripping in butter, or fried clams or fried popcorn shrimp so fresh you can taste it? Perhaps I should have had less ice cream and eaten more blueberries. But here in Maine, the blueberries are not quite ripe enough to eat. I might be a tad bloated in the belly and slovenly looking… but it does feel good!

We’re off to the movies now. G-Force opens today. We’ve done about all that we can do to stay dry and since there is a giant Cineplex not too far it’s as good as any place to stay out of the rain… and eat some good, artery clogging movie theater popcorn in our dingy old sweats!

Sittin' on the dock of the bay...

Mother Nature has not blessed us with endless days of glorious sunshine and warm ocean breezes. Instead we've been blessed, for the most part, with cool, cloudy, damp Maine days. But we cannot wallow away our vacation. We cannot cry over spilt milk or spilt sunscreen. We cannot let a lack of sunshine rain on our parade!

Late yesterday morning we got up and decided to go for a walk on the pier and the docks a town away. We were granted permission from the harbor master to fish on the docks below, so we returned home to grab our fishing gear. It had been drizzling all morning but, of course, the moment we set foot on the docks the skies opened up pouring bucketful after bucketful of water down on us. We enjoyed the wet fun as long as we could, til we could take no more! We caught no fish but we had a great time! We returned home, soaked to the gills, changed into sweats and sipped mugs of hot chocolate.

After we warmed up we headed to The Soda Fountain for some ice cream. I can think of no better way to end a cold rainy Maine day than to go out and get a delicious ice cream cone!

Today we went fishing on Uncle David's boat. We tried in vain to catch a striper or a bluefish. We didn't have much luck today either. As we headed back to the marina Christopher asked his father a question. "Why do they call it fishing if you never catch anything?"

"Well," Daddy answered. "If you always caught the fish you would be catching instead of fishing!

Below, a refresher course for everyone!

Picture of Rebecca and the mackerel, or bait!

and Daddy getting the bait on the hook!

Rebecca and I are heading back to the car... we cannot get any wetter or colder, but the boys want to stay and fish a little longer.

Alexander, mastering the art of fishing

You, Me and Anita Shreve! (GIVE AWAY!!!)

I had to borrow my mother in law's copy yesterday so that I could familiarize myself with the story before going to hear Ms. Shreve talk about her latest book, set in in a prestigious New England boarding school, is about how life is greatly altered when a few teenagers do something so stupid without stopping to think about their actions and how this one stupid act affects all those around them. It is gripping and the characters are raw and pure and real. Ms. Shreve basically had me at hello! I picked up my copy last night (which she signed for me!) and am already 100 pages into it. The story is that engaging. (And I have no internet to distract me!)

Ms. Shreve is a wonderful story teller and after her reading she talked about her many books and influences. She talked about her writing style and habits and how she became a writer. I had a wonderful evening and was glad I had the opportunity to hear her talk. She is exactly as I had imagined... a Dianne Sawyer-like woman of the literary set. Perhaps I will pull out my pen and paper and resume my own writing... I am once again inspired!

I could have picked up many books. I have read most, but not all of her novels. Instead, I picked up another copy of Testimony, had it signed, and am giving it away to one lucky blogger!

So if you are interested in my give-away, leave a comment, blog about it and follow me!

I will announce the winner on Sunday, July 26th when I am back home with ample internet access!

And for those of you who wondered how I fared with the kids yesterday. Everyone was happy. Rebecca ended up spending the afternoon with her cousin Brielle and I brought the boys to the beach to be with their (boys) cousins... Wrapped in my cashmere hoodie and shorts, I read comfortably on the beach with the cool breezes coming off the ocean. I finished my book (The Beach House by Jane Green) just in time to start Testimony! After all my whining we all ended up happy!

For more on Testimony and Anita Shreve, ckick here to visit her website.

a break from the beach and Anita Shreve

Hellooo all! It's cloudy and overcast and I am happy to not be at the beach... but since I have posted the pictures the sun has poked her sleepy head through the clouds and I may have to dress and screen the troops, pack up lunches and snacks, towels toys and everything else one needs. Truth be told I'm not much in the mood. It's windy and cool. But the kids want the beach... well, one wants the beach and the other wants the pool... I cannot be at two places at once (which as moms is something we so should be able to do) so I will have to figure this out! Since Daddy does not get back here until late tomorrow night and I cannot split myself in two, I will have to decide which kid(s) to piss off... this is no small task as one, or two, of my children will declare me The Meanest Mommy In The World followed by several thousand whiny-chantings of That's Not Fair!!!!

We have had a fabulous time and the weather has been lovely... cool ... in the upper 70s during the day and low 50s at night, but for Maine it is perfect. The kids have had a blast playing with their cousins and despite my lack of communication with the outside world I have no complaints!

Tonight I am off to hear Anita Shreve (I just love her!) talk about her newest novel, Testimony. I will let you all know how it goes!

Farewell for now my friends... I will be back soon!

Lostah, chowdah and Stella (Artois) for dinnah...

First of all I have to start off by saying I have NO INTERNET at the condo in Maine this summer and I am having serious (SERIOUS) withdrawal issues... so it's a good thing that the weather has been lovely and we have been at the at the beach all day because the moment I am in the condo I want to hop on the laptop... but I can't! So it's a good thing my mother in law invited us over for dinner!

I will check in with all your blogs as soon as possible... my time on here is limited and don't have a whole heck of a lot to report. Daddy went back home to CT last night for the week and we are hanging out with family (13 cousins between the ages of 4 and 13!) and the kids are having a blast...

Right now Rebecca is putting on a "show" with her cousin Brielle... very funny. very funny!!!

Daddy rejoins us on Friday and that's when the fun will begin.

As he headed out the door to head back home, he poked his head back in and asked "do you you have your Big Girl Panties or will I need to bring them with me when I come back?" I assured him I had them with me!

Road Trip 2009

We're off to the land of lobsters and moose, of sweet pines and salty ocean breezes... I'll have the kids in my car, the jogger, the snacks, waters, music and DVDs. Daddy will have all the other luggage and the toys and the beach items and cooler and all the stuff that his sedan can fit by my monster truck cannot. The minivan held more. No doubt about it. But we're OK. Rebecca will be in the third road next to the jogger. The two boys will be in the second row, separated by a pile of comforters and pillows. I want no child to be able to touch another child. And, if I could temporarily, I'd duct-tape their mouths so I wouldn't have to hear the incessant whining and tears and pleas of I want this and no not that. Driving in cars with independent-minded little people is no small task. It's dangerous. I'm hoping that by keeping Rebecca in seclusion in the third row in pre-teeny bopperdom that I'll have some sense of calm. Some. I can't put all three in the same row for more than 5 minutes at a time. I cannot. I will not.

Our trip to Providence, on Monday, was actually quite delightful. It would be terrible to say that it was because Rebecca was not in the picture... but it would also be the truth! Alexander is always content in the car. Sometimes he'll watch a movie and sometimes he's happy to just watch the world go by outside his window.

Christopher likes to play his DS and watch movies as well. But he never learns and he gets carsick. Terribly carsick. So when we went to Providence on Monday I told Christopher to look for license plates. I thought it would entertain him for 5 minutes, not the entire trip. He was fascinated and having such a good time. On the way there and back he found (with a little help from his Momma) plates from 23 states! I loathe to drive on I-95 but it's a great way to find all sorts of fascinating license plates. We located plates from: New York, California, Connecticut, Ohio, Michigan, Illinois, Massachusetts, South Carolina, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Florida, New Jersey, Wisconsin, Vermont, Indiana, Delaware, Iowa, Maine, Hawaii (!!!), Virginia, New Hampshire.

Alexander had fun finding shapes in the clouds, Snoopy upside-down on an airplane, sharks, dolphins, turtles, birds, and the like. I'm sure we'll play the same games again. I have no idea what we have in store... I guess it's wait and see... and I am sure you'll hear all about it!

Meantime, you can read all about one of last summer's escapades if you wish by clicking on Objects in Mirror are Closer Than They Appear... should give you a good laugh and make you yearn for the good days gone by (sans enfants)!

We Have a Lilly & Libations WINNER!!!!!

Cancer Sucks Even with Lilly Pulitzer on Your Side

is the winner!!!

I want to thank you all for your entries, comments and following me. I know you would have put the lovely napkins and shaker to good use! But truth be told, I am delighted that this will go to help a great cause. If you are not familiar with Cancer Sucks Even with Lilly on Your Side, please check out her site!

I have another great giveaway that I will host when I return from Maine. So stay tuned!

I can see clearly now the rain is gone...

On a last minute whim I decided to get a new pair of glasses. I have been wearing my 6 year old Kate Spades, lovely but all scratched up and too loose for my face. I've been punishing myself for losing my Armani glasses that I adored back in December. Followed by the loss of my Burberry sunglasses just a month ago. Being on a budget means I'll have to do without my designer frames for a while. Unless you have a vision plan and a health account! So I walked into Pearl Vision and took a peek around. Truth be told I wasn't wild on the budget frames. And they weren't that inexpensive... so I perused, staying far away from Armani, Chanel and the like, but stopping for a moment to take a look at Kate... nice, very nice... I would say they were moderately priced, but with a vision plan the lenses were free, and I could charge the glasses to the health account which, for all intents and purposes, means they are free ;)

Of course I did manage to find the same pairs on the Internet for about $100 less, but I figure that then I would have had to pay for the Rx, and in the end I would have ended up paying the same amount. (When we renew our health care account I will replace my nice sunglasses!) I love my glasses... and now that I can see, I can see what a pit my house has become. I can see all the dirt and crumbs and dust on the floor... and the grub and grime on the kitchen counters... all the work I have to do before we pack up and go. Luckily I am all packed... for the most part. I don't even make lists anymore. I put a suitcase in each kid's room and fill it. If I have too much so be it. We're not flying so I won't have to pay any overages. Only, I forgot to pack shoes for everyone and sweaters for me. Normally I won't sweat that stuff so much as we'll hit the outlets with a vengeance, but that's not going to happen this year. So I have a list of everything I forgot! I should be cleaning but what's the point in doing it now when I have 2 kids and soon to be 3 kids at home to wreck it all up. I'll save the cleaning for evening.

I just did my last load of laundry before we leave. Do you know I keep a Ziplock bag with all the stuff that comes out of my kids' pockets? I would say 98% of the items found came from Christopher's... The fact that I kept track is strange... the fact that I actually took a picture to show you is even stranger! But hey, I gotta keep it real!

All these items were found within the past 2 - 3 months... perhaps I should learn to empty pockets!

3 quarters

1 nickel

1 piece of green crayon (yikes!)

1 piece of orange crayon (double yikes!)

1 piece of dark blue crayon (triple yikes!)

1 One dollar bill

1 game piece from Life (small white car)

1 charm for Crocs

1 white Lego

1 necklace

1 purple eraser

2 pencils

1 yellow feather (off in the corner)

1 shell

1 rope bracelet (came out nice and clean!)

1 screw

1 rock

1 soccer pin

and

1 cell phone!!!!!!

And a big thank you, again, to all of you who are so supportive and have such kind words... I was honestly a bit nervous as to how you would react to the harshness and brashness of my language in a recent post. When I showed it to my husband he thought it was well written but though the language to be harsh and excessive. And while I saw his point of view, I was not only retelling my story (in which such words were muttered under my breath over and over again) but retelling it realistically. I am a writer by nature so I was expressing myself in my creative manner. I thought the words, for that particular post to be appropriate. I was glad that no one objected and was glad when many of you fessed up (in my comments and through email and Facebook) that you were glad that I used that language. And of course I didn't mind you all laughing at me and with me. That was my intent. I see myself realistically, traits, faults and all. And sometimes I have to poke fun at myself. I need to be honest with myself and I will not paint a portrait to you all that does not reflect me as I am in an honest manner.

Many of my posts are about new shoes and clothes, and glasses and cars and such. At quick glance I may come off as a spoiled kid who has everything. But that is not the case. Not at all. And while I do appreciate the finer things in life and have desires, I do not spoil myself. I do not take any of my material possessions for granted. I truly appreciate each and everything I have, whether it come from Target of Saks Fifth Avenue. I have faults and weaknesses. I am often envious of many of those around me. But I know just what I do have and am eternally grateful. Times might be a bit tight for the time being, but I still have so incredibly much... I have my wonderful friends and family, I have my sense of humor, I have a wonderful home -- and one day it will be the way I envision it... I have all the wonderful sights and attractions of Connecticut and New England in my back yard. I really do have it all. And now, I have you all... your funny and supportive comments. Thank you for helping me to keep it real...

Now I have an incredibly messy car to go vacuum out... a result of letting my youngest eat a flaky cinnamon stick while I quickly ran into the Opticians to pick up my new glasses. It's what I get for not wanting to drag the kids in. It's what I get for being lazy... It's what I get for being (once again) to see clearly!

Bitch in the Big Badass White Car, Part 2

(or, Everything's Coming up Roses!)

If you haven't read my last post, Beware of the Bitch in the Big Badass White Car, please do or this post will have no relevance whatsoever. You'll just scroll down and think, so what? Whoop-dee-do... Big Whoop! Well, it was indeed a big whoop!

As I dressed for lunch -- we were surprising a good friend at one of my favorite restaurants for lunch -- I thought long and hard as to how I should wear my hair. Up. Down. Bun. Ponytail. Sloppy tossback. Barette. Headband... And then I decided that I would toss it back in a tidy pony tail with a pink pony tail holder to match my sweater of course.

L is pregnant with her third child, third boy and about to pop out the littlest one any day now. My friend Christine took care of everything... the reservations, details, and in the end, even the check. She was truly generous to host us all and we all had a lovely day. Especially L who was completely surprised!

I had on a black sleeveless dress with a ruffled collar, pink cardigan around my shoulders, pearl earrings and my black TB sandals. Perfect for a Ladies Lunch at my favorite haunt, Splash at the Inn at Longshore in Westport.

It was a perfect day for dining outdoors and enjoying the magnificent view of the Long Island Sound. The menu at Splash is absolutely to die for mouth-wateringly delicious. I didn't eat breakfast on purpose (and ate so much at lunch that I was not even hungry for dinner.)

Look at the clouds in the picture below... they are so perfect they don't even look real!

Some of the things we had to eat were shrimp salad on a croissant, lobster salad on a croissant, tuna steak burger with a hoisin glaze and wasabi mayonnaise, crackling calamari salad, Oriental chicken and cabbage salad, and of course the obligatory glass of Chardonnay ;)

I just love these two pictures below where Line (pronounced Leena -- she is Norwegian!) is about to kiss her husband, Gamaliel (he is Mexican!)

and here she is with her boys, K and N

I haven't had much time away from the kids this summer. So when I do get away it is all that much more special, especially when that means getting to spend an afternoon with with great friends, many of whom I have known for over a dozen years, having great food, great conversation and great fun. Since we were outside we could be loud and have fun without disturbing everyone else (which has happened in the past!) and just be ourselves.

It must have been Women Who Lunch Day because I saw very few men. Mostly there were tables of women, tables of women who looked very much alike with long blonde hair (all frequent the same salon I wondered) and tanned, toned and tight bodies with designer tops and white jeans, or cool sundresses all from Mitchell's, the chi-chi-est store around, no doubt... in Hermes sandals with Prada satchels.

I like to people watch, I always have. I am a big observer. When I was a child I would oven walk over to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a few blocks from my home, and sit on the steps of the grand museum and watch all the varied sorts of people passing by. I still love to do this.

At Splash, these other women might have had all the right stuff in terms of material goods, but what they did not have was the life, laughter and sparkle in their eyes that we had. They weren't... well... they weren't real. And they were not enjoying themselves and their day nearly as much as we were.

We all parted the restaurant and headed in our separate directions. As I was sitting at a red light waiting for it to turn so that I could make a left to run a quick errand, Christine pulled up in her grey Bimmer SUV. She honked her horn and I looked over, rolled down my window. "Hey Jess!" She shouted. Your new car goes well with your blonde hair! You look good in a white car!" The light turned green and with that she took off.

I headed off to my final errand. I was in and out in less than five minutes, including a quick visit to the loo.

And look what I got, the icing on my cake!

And how lucky am I that my sweater matches my driver's license! (I would have totally clashed yesterday!)

And how lucky am I that I won't have to renew until 2015!

Beware of the Bitch in the Big Bad White Ass Car

I had to go to the DMV today. The dreaded DMV. My license expired. A month ago. So now it's really expired. And since I am due to drive to Maine in a few days I need a legitimate license.


I dropped Rebecca off at tennis camp and took off to Bridgeport with the boys. I was prepared with snacks, snacks, more snacks, notebooks, pens and a Nintendo DS. I had the address, 95 Sylvan Avenue, programmed into my Nav. I was about 6 miles or 8 minutes away according to the screen. I was braced for some lines and an ugly picture. But I had to do what I had to do. But what the hell do you do when your navigation device brings you to what it says is 95 Sylvan Avenue, but is not 95 Sylvan Avenue? I found myself in the parking lot of a deserted and desolate building across from Home Depot. I scratched my head and wondered whether Bridgeport had lost financing for its DMV. I had seen a sign a while back and decided to try to follow it. And I did. And got lost again. My father once deemed Bridgeport as "the armpit of America." He wasn't far off. With no disrespect if you live there, and I have friends that do in lovely antique Colonials of yesteryear, but the belly of Bridgeport ain't pretty.


I passed the Happy Family Garage that completely ripped us off when they repaired my old Acura. So I knew I was close. And then I felt funny. I felt naked, raw, vulnerable and lost. I felt like a very white girl in a pink and white gingham dress with two towheads in the back in an expensive white SUV. (Don't think a potential car-jacker would give a shit that my cute little dress actually came from Target.) My stomach was starting to do flip flops. And then the red light went on. My gas tank was nearing empty. In the hood. Amidst gunfire and drug busts and gang bangs... Ok, not really... I have a flair for drama. But I was a bit nervous nonetheless. I had about $6.52 to my name. And a credit card. And my checkbook. (Was going to write a check out to the DMV since they won't take "a card.")


I texted Daddy who was in the OR texting me back with directions. Useless directions. I kept driving and stopping at red lights. At one red light I noticed a building with barbed wire. School? I looked again. Big barbed wire. And I thought Attica. And I thought Fuck. That's a prison. I have no gas in my enormous white Lexus. I'm going to get shot. A prisoner is about to escape. He'll see my car. He won't have a gun but I would be too panic-stricken to figure out that he is really holding his hand under his shirt in the shape of a gun. I text Daddy again. I think I said I am lost near a fucking prison. I can text bad language. Kids can't hear it.


As I drive searching in vain for safety I get a text back. I shouldn't worry. Prison is near Park and Madison Avenues. What? I shouldn't worry??? Glad he can be so cool and nonchalant in cool dark chamber. And then I find it, Park Avenue. And just like the avenue of the same name in Manhattan, I feel safe here. I know where I am. I find a spot to pull into. I see Temple Shalom. it seems appropriate. It seems perfect. I bow my head down for a moment and thank God for my safety. (Really, I did do this.)


And proceed to bug my husband some more. I need gas. I need to pee. He gives me instructions. I read them carefully. I find my way to a Mobil station I know well and fill 'er up. I'm pleased that gas is only $2.71 here. It's easily been twenty cents more everywhere else. I run inside and get myself a Diet Coke with Lime. And the boys get to share a Cherry Dr. Pepper. It's a celebration. Of life! Of course what I really need is a stiff drink, but I can't buy Stoli at the gas station... not in Connecticut, anyhow.

$60 later and I am once again on my way. I still have to pee. But I am determined to get there and do what I need to do. I have been in the car over an hour already. I'm ruining our environment, and the crappy navigation system hasn't helped. I retrace my steps and see the old deserted lot and decide to take the right that Daddy has instructed me too. And I do and I keep going and I see the Happy Family Garage... and once again nothing. And once again I am headed deep into the bowels of Bridgeport. And the prison is once again approaching on my left. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. And then I see a Yale New Haven (arguably best hospital in the state) courier. The driver is pulled over and eating a sandwich. I roll my window down and think, well, if I'm going to get shot I'll get taken to the best hospital. (See, I can keep my sense of humor in any situation!) I ask the driver if he knows where the DMV is. He tells me he does and instructs me to follow. And I turn around and do. Past the Happy Family Garage??? and directly across the BMW dealership I turn, past the Ford dealership to find a poorly marked DMV. Boo on you Bridgeport. Now, really. All anyone had to tell me was that the DMV was across the Bimmer Dealership! I could have sniffed that out faster than a pig sniffs out truffles for Godsake!


So I pull in. Amazed at all the cars there. And then I see the people. The tons and tons and tons of people. I wonder, momentarily, if the DMV is a temporary home to the Michael Jackson tribute. I mean, there are that many people! And then I see the line... the long line that loops around the building. Fuck. Fuck. and More Fuck. I can't do this. I can't get out. I can't expect my boys to stand on line for I have no idea how many hours. So I turn away and hightail outta there. We have been in the car, at this point, almost 2 hours. I could have gone to the Roger Williams Zoo in Providence, for crying out loud!


I am tempted to go home. It would be the easy thing to do, but I still need my driver's licence and I don't have that many free days left. I head to Norwalk. In the past I have been in and out in no time. I have gas, plenty of it now, but I also have to pee. Badly. As I drive down the Merritt Parkway I try to work out the logistics in my head... get a number and then go pee, but then risk not hearing my name a la Sharon Stone at the Academy Awards... or was it The Golden Globes? As if that matters... Or do I hold it? I don't think I can.


I decide to call my friend Andrea. I owe her a call. I have explained my situation and she tells me to go to AAA. (Duh!!!) and she tells me it's on Saugatuck Avenue. I'm headed that way as it is. I call 411 and get the street number and their phone number. I make a mental note to remember 20 Saugatuck Avenue. Glad it's a short and easy number. I have a hard time remembering numbers. I am numerically challenged. I call AAA and tell them I am on my way. They tell me they are open and there is no line.


At this point Alexander joins me in the Pee Pee Song. He has to go. Badly. He's starting to cry. I pull up to the intersection of Riverside Avenue and Saugatuck Avenue. And guess what? Saugatuck Avenue is closed? For real! Now we have two people who have to pee really badly. And I am not sure either one of us is going to make it. I circle around. Once, twice. The policeman redirects me to the other end of Saugatuck. I sit in traffic with Alexander near tears behind me. Christopher is magnificently quiet. I am glad Rebecca is in camp. She would have been dreadful. Ok, unbearable. I see the carnies setting up for the big Westport carnival. And the construction trucks ahead. And we sit. And we sit. And we sit. Some more.


Finally we go and just as I am about to pull in to 20 Saugatuck Avenue I get redirected! Around the block. And there is no back entrance. Fuck it Fuck it Fuck it some damn. More.


Once again I am forced to put on my Big Girl Panties. I am no more Suburban Blonde Housewife of Fairfield County Mamma in Luxury SUV but Bitch in a Big Bad White Ass Car. I round the corner and Alexander is "leaking" he is trying really hard to hold it. Squeezing really hard he tells me. I pull into Caldwell Banker's (real estate) Office, towhead with one missing flip flop in tow. "We need a bathroom, we need it now!" I declare. The lady at the front desk looks at Alexander with empathy and directs us upstairs. We pass by a broker trying to set up a blog. I want to stop, put Alexander down and offer my services, for a nominal fee. But now's not the time to be re-establishing careers and I carry my bundle of blondness to the bathroom. His pants could be wetter. And they could be dryer.


Meantime I get a text from Daddy. He says I cannot text him 19 times over the course of two hours. He is sorry I am having a bad day but I have to leave him alone. I will. I have my Big Girl Panties on now.


Christopher is next. I feel awkward using the loo as well so I don't and thank the broker who has navigated away from the blog page he was trying to set up. I thank the receptionist and head back to the car with two happier children, one in flip flop and one bare foot. I myself am doing my best to keep my Big Girl Panties dry.


We hop back into the car and circle the block again, this time I roll down the window and tell the workers that I am going to AAA dammit, and they can't refuse. They stop the construction trucks in their paths and let this Badass Mamma through.


I'm excited to finally get my licence and use the loo. We've been in the car over 3 hours.

But first there is one more thing I must do. I must text Daddy one more time. Yes, that will be 20 times in 2 hours. But whether wearing Big Girl Panties, Granny Panties or Thong... I must send him a picture this, what greets me at AAA.

Happy Birthday Hungry Caterpillar!

We had a lovely day at the Eric Carle Museum last week. We joined the museum in celebrating Mr. Carle's 80th Birthday and the 40th Anniversary of The Very Hungry Caterpillar. We saw an exhibit on that book -- how the idea was initially conceived all the way through publishing. The kids saw all the changes made along the way, how the end result was quite different from the initial idea. Our Very Hungry Caterpillar was initially titled A Worm Named Willie! We saw a lovely water-color exhibit featuring the works of EH Sheppard, the illustrator of Winnie the Pooh and works by Hillary Knight (of Eloise fame), Kevin Henkes and many, many others. The kids participated in a scavenger hunt of sorts as they searched for various picture book art related items hidden within the exhibitions.

From the galleries we wandered in to the gigantic art room and the kids spent about an hour in there embarking on their own Eric Carle collages. Interesting, was that they used liquid starch instead of glue as their adhesive. Its' consistency is a lot like water and it won't ruin sponges and surfaces. It was great and easy to work with. Of course it was hard to tear away from the art room, but there was still the gift shop to hit ($$$$$!!!!) and a long ride home.

We loved making the collages and will do so again.

What you will need to make your own Eric Carle Collages

Tissue paper scraps of all colors and patterns
Heavy weight paper, such as watercolor paper
Liquid starch, poured into a dish
Paintbrush
Scissors to cut shapes out of tissue paper

You can begin any way you wish. Either start by cutting out specific shapes or randomly paste various shapes on to your paper. We were pretty abstract in our art, but Rebecca did make a picture of a goldfish swimming in a blue sea. All were beautiful and I cannot wait to frame them!

This would be a great rainy day craft, perfect for all ages, paired along with a couple of Mr. Carle's books!

of course a Caterpillar needs a "Bug!"

our collages in progress

collages of felt...

even Alexander could thoroughly enjoy it!

Rebecca worried that she was too old for this "baby" Museum. If anything, Alexander was slightly young.

Happy Birthday Hungry Caterpillar!