Saturday, my friend hosted a spa night at her house. Of course it's an in home party, with a rep trying to sell stuff, but it was so much fun. Put all kinds of stuff on our feet, our hands, wore aromatherapy neck wraps, cucumber masks on the eyes, drank great wine. The best part was after, where my friend had made wonderful spa food. We sat at the dining room table, complete with the fine china. I've been married 8 1/2 years and never used my fine china. Then we finished with desert and a champagne toast and sat and ranted about work. Someone finally checked their watch and it was almost 11 pm. I felt so relaxed, so rejuvenated after the evening. We must do that again.
Last weekend we were out of milk. My husband will not drink his coffee black, so he reaches for the Kahlua. I said, wow, getting started early, aren't we? He answers that it's just liqueur, it doesn't have alcohol. I answer, hello, liqueur, liquor? He grabs the bottle and reads off 17% alcohol, hmmm.
The boy's new favorite movie is The Wizard of Oz and along with that comes nonstop questions about tornadoes. Mom, when is a tornado coming? Where will it take us? Will it shut off all the power? What if we're in the car when a tornado comes? I answer them all with honey, tornadoes don't happen very often around here and it will be a long time before we see one, if ever. So, we had some bad storms roll through the area this morning. I have the kids strapped into their car seats to leave for school and turn on the radio and there's a tornado warning. Check outside and the rain is coming down sideways. Tell the kids we need to head back into the house because there may be a tornado coming :)
I get an invite about a girl's spa night this Saturday. I respond immediately, yes!, figuring there's no way I'm missing out on this. Tell hubby that I'm going and later mention to the boy his reward of McDonald's if he behaves well at school this week. Hubby immediately asks if he's being set up. Can't understand why he'd jump to conclusions since the last time I left him with the kids for the evening, I promised them Daddy would take them to Chuck E Cheese. I know my time is coming....
Fine, I'll admit it. You happy? I want to dance well. I try to dance well. Hubby loves to make fun of me as I try out different styles. My real style is stuck in the 80's, he insists. So what? The 80's was good. But I've tried to update my moves and nothing feels natural.
The man suggested I watch more MTV. Only problem with that is they don't play videos anymore. But I managed to find one on VH1. Ahhh, gangsta rap. Now that's too easy. Bounce side to side and throw your hands up every once in a while with your hands like guns. He says I should become a rapper, as he laughs uncontrollably. I break into Vanilla Ice.
Next song, more rap, with the dancers shaking it. I can do that too. Doesn't quite look like that though. More laughter. I finally give up and find a country song. Line dancing. Now anyone can do that, no rhythm required. Only problem is I hate country. What does that leave me?
When I am really stressed, it usually comes out in my dreams. Like last night. I dropped my kids off at my neighbor's pool. Unsupervised, but hey, they had on life jackets. Or at least my 19 month old did. Then I went next door. That's where I walked into this weird fantasy world. It was a jungle, with a river running through it and boulders covered with vines. The water was crystal clear.
This is where my memory gets fuzzy, but there was a man who'd been floating around in a lifeboat for what looked like many days. I swam over to help and that's when the loch ness monster attacked. It grabbed one of his near lifeless limbs and I didn't wait around to see what happened next. I swam to the nearest bank and the monster was right behind me. I scaled the boulders along the bank to safety. That's when I decided I needed to get out of there.
I left the jungle and went next door to get my kids. My husband and folks were there and were clearly upset that I'd left the kids unattended in a pool. I told then I just left for a second, but was really ashamed.
If you're a believer in dreams, I would think this has something to do with the fact that I haven't seen my kids much since we bought the rent house. We've spent a year and a half educating ourselves about real estate investing (which I spent a good part of the weekend in more training) and over and over the experts advise to work smarter, not harder. And what are we doing by trying to do most of it ourselves? And the very reason we're doing this- to spend more time with our kids means we spend less time with our kids.
When I walk into the kid's school yesterday to pick them up after work, I realize I'm in for bad news. The director of the school is standing there with an incident report slip for me to sign. Nothing new, I get one of these several times a week. If one of the kids gets hurt or gets into trouble, I have to sign the paperwork. But I knew this was different by looking at her face.
The boy got into a fist fight with one of his friends. They both wanted to use the computer and the other boy hit him, so my son proceeded to throw him a straight punch to the face, hard. The other boy has a black eye now. And this is terrible, but honestly, my first reaction was to laugh. Instead I stifled it, and just shook my head. And said he'd be duly punished.
When I walked into the room to get my daughter, the director's step-father (the owner) followed me in. He tells me that what my son did was a good thing, that you don't want him to cower and run from bullies, but to fight back. But not to hit in the face where it leaves a mark. And to know when to hit (i.e. not when the teacher is watching).
I did punish my son and spent the drive home deciding punishment. He always gets tv taken away for a day when he misbehaves, but he needed something more. Ahhhh, candy. That'll get to him. So after dinner I told him to pick out a piece of candy. He picked out a box of sweethearts and then I told him to throw them in the trash. And every time he got in trouble at school, he would be throwing candy away.
I have mixed feelings about it all. I do want him to stand up for himself, but I don't want him to get expelled from school. I do not want him to be a bully or a coward. But he does need to learn self-control.
For a day that I despise so much, it was actually quite pleasant. It's not that I despise the day, it's how contrived it is. You must buy your woman flowers, jewelry, and chocolate and either take her out to dinner or cook for her. And don't forget the card. All of the above irks me because it assumes that the man needs to be reminded to make his little lady feel special and that cooking dinner for her is a special occasion. Maybe I just demand more from my mate. We're more partners with an equal balance of power in the relationship. Plus I hate flowers. They die and I'm allergic. And don't even get me starting on how the day affects those who are not happily coupled.
So, where was I? Oh, yes. What a wonderful day it was. Hubby was working on the house, so I picked up his lunch order from Sonic- chili cheese dog, fries, cherry limeade slush and tried not to vomit when I delivered it. How anything that looks like that can be appetizing is beyond me. We cooked dinner for my folks and they watched the kids while we went to see Hitch. Laughed so hard my stomach hurt. Then we made coffee with a splash of Kahlua and ate tres leches that my folks had picked up for us.
It's amazing how we repeat the same actions of our parents. I have many memories of hanging out in one of the rental houses my parents owned, them painting and cleaning and repairing, my brother and I watching The Twilight Zone. And I remember how they smelled and I remember the calls for my dad to fix the stove, the sink, ..... and I remember thinking to myself, I will never....
And so this weekend, we spent sprucing up the latest house for lease. Dropped the girl off with my folks and brought the tv & vcr, leap pad, coloring books, and radio for my son and went to work. Bribed him to help with the promise of ice cream. Spent most of Saturday removing wallpaper and trying to remove a broken door handle that my son had closed. Sunday, we dropped both kids with hubby's folks and my parents came over the check out the house. First thing out of my dad's mouth is 'what can I do to help' as he picks up a shower head and says this looks easy. 4 hours later, they have to leave for their dinner reservations. And they thought their rental rehab days were over.
I imagine in 20 years, we'll be helping our kids with their rental properties.
On a side note, I was REALLY glad to come in to work today. This is so easy.
I learned all sorts of silly songs at the various camps I attended growing up - church camp, volleyball camp, fish camp at A&M. Several have stuck in my mind forever including Joe at the Button Factory. Maybe you've heard it too:
Hi! My name is Joe. And I work in a button factory. The other day, my boss comes up to me and says Hey Joe- are you busy? I say no, he says turn the button with your right hand.
And so it repeats until your hands are turning, your feet are turning, your back end is turning, your head is turning and you're sticking out your tongue to turn the button and finally Hey Joe- are you busy? I say yes! Only it sounds like hey thoe are thu buhy I thay yeth!
My husband did not attend camp, does not know any camp songs (besides jodies, but that's another story and not PG) and is sometimes annoyed when I try to sing them. So, I try to abstain. Which makes it even funnier when the boy busts out with Joe and the button factory at dinner the other night. Hubby turns to me laughing and asks if I taught it to him. But he'd learned it at school. Glad to know our 17K a year is going to good use.
Another teaching lesson presented itself with the boy. It was a good time to reinforce about telling the truth. He tried to tell me his hairdresser did not have any candy for him when Daddy took him to get his hair cut. Daddy's shaking his head and raising his eyebrows, so I say to my son - you get in alot less trouble if you tell the truth than if you lie. And his response? I get in trouble if I tell the truth?
I'm always complaining that I have nothing to blog about. This typically occurs right after another funny kid story I've told Michael. He usually responds- what about what you just told me? And I ask, but how can I tell it without the hand motions?
So, here goes.
The other morning I am eating Grape-nuts and my son asks- 'Mom? What are you eating?' I reply rocks. He says he likes rocks and wants some too. So, I pour him a bowl of Grape-nuts. After the first bite he exclaims- Yuck! These rocks are terrible and proceeds to run to the bathroom to scrape the remaining cereal off his tongue. I laugh. Later he says asks if I can still taste the rocks because he can and they are yucky.
Last night feeling a bit (mild understatement here) stressed. So, after dinner I turn on some AC/DC and play air guitar with the boy. Then we practice karate in the kitchen. I do a roundhouse kick above his head and his eyes get really wide and he says- Cool! My daughter's laughing and singing. The sad part is that my kids think this is normal.
Last Friday evening, after a long week at work, I tried to rest a bit before the evening's festivities. I laid down on the couch while the kids played and closed my eyes for a moment. All of a sudden- WHACK! Something hits me. Hard. I open my eyes startled, thinking I have a crushed skull, and my daughter's standing right next to me, smiling, with a microphone in her hand. As I scurry off to get ice, I hear my son scolding her- 'You do not hit! How would you like it if I did that to you?'
So, now I'm sporting a black eye. And my son fell off the slide at school and fell on his ear which blew up to the size of a small blimp. And the next day, my daughter's booster seat was not attached right at my folk's house and she takes a nose dive to the tile floor and winds up with a swollen eye. My husband wouldn't be seen in public with the three of us.
Having lost my voice this past weekend, I quickly found out how important it is to be able to talk. Especially with my son. He doesn't listen anyways and trying to get his attention without talking above a whisper was most comical, if you weren't me of course. Snapping my fingers and clapping my hands, jumping around like an ape on Red Bull. Yesterday he tells me that his voice is leaving him and he won't be able to talk soon just like me. A mom can only wish for a day or two reprieve from the nonstop chatter.
What a weekend. Started off good enough. Had the day off Friday- got the tires rotated, bought a replacement for the broken coffee pot. Started prepping the house for the housekeeper's arrival today. My plan was to fly with hubby to Salt Lake City as he had a 42 hour layover there. Dropped the kids off at my folks, met him at the airport and didn't even come close to getting on the airplane. It was overbooked. Rats.
On to Plan B. Real estate meeting Saturday morning, but wasn't feeling so hot Friday, so I decided to not set the alarm and if I woke up in time, great. If not, I must have needed the sleep. I finally opened my eyes Saturday morning and it was 10:15 am. And I couldn't talk. Completely lost my voice and was feeling much worse. Decided probably not the best idea to pass it along to all the children at a birthday party that afternoon, so I blew that off.
Sunday, I continued prepping the house for the housekeeper (i.e. putting junk away, laundry, cleaning up the toys). Then went to the store to pick up things for the Superbowl party at a friend's that afternoon. Thought my daughter felt warm, but was still in denial. Finally took her temp and it was 101. Rats. Several hours later after her nap, it was 103.8. Gave her some medicine, tried to keep both the kids entertained, and had to convince my son that watching the game was better than the recorded Dora the Explorers. Hubby finally gets back from his tough weekend in Salt Lake.
Today, Daddy gets to take the girl to the doctor. And we're closing on a house this afternoon. This makes #4.