A Halloween Post-Mortem

Well, Halloween has come and gone and I hope you all had a nice one!

Since the UK doesn't really do Halloween, we attended a "Saints and Angels" party dressed as ourselves.

Only the girls came in "fancy dress" (I love British English) as angels and/or angel fairies (of course). They all sat very prettily and played very daintily while the boys (my son included) charged upstairs to play pirates and cranes. Or was it dinosaurs and swords?

Well, whatever it was, it was LOUD and involved throwing their socks from the top of the beautiful, sweeping staircase in the foyer.

Meanwhile, I found myself in an elegant living room sipping tea with the other mums and trying not to slouch too much. I asked once again if they planned to go trick-or-treating with the kids and they all looked at me as if I had just suggested that we sacrifice a goat and eat the children.

"Halloween is absolutely horrid," one mum informed me. "You go to the store for a costume and it's all blood and guts and gore. For my young children? No, thank you!"

(As a aside, the tiny selection of children's costumes here ARE awful gross...)

Then, she continued on some diatribe about Halloween being in league with Valentine's and Mother's Day as a lucrative conspiracy dreamed up by greedy card makers.

While I don't personally recall ever having sent a single Halloween card in my life, I guess some do...

As the token American and unbidden international emissary of Halloween, I explained that Halloween in my colony country isn't all headless horsemen and slutty nurses... at least, not the kids' version.

In fact, it has the potential to be really, really cute. They dress up as monkeys or lions and we take lots of pictures!

"It really does have to potential to be very nice and quite sweet", I assured them.

"Well, I guess that part of it just hasn't caught on yet in England," she conceded, "but, I still don't want any part of it" and all of the other mums murmur in agreement.

As we're leaving the party, everyone mentioned needing to stop by the store to get candy for later that night...

You know, just in case.

(I, on the other hand, bought my candy days ago. Ha! Ha!)

By 5:30 (because it gets dark here at 4 in the afternoon), we already had four groups of kids and one meter reader come by. Only a few more came around while we were having dinner and the meter reader made fun of me for answering the door with a huge bowl of candy, but otherwise it was a slow night.

Oh well. More candy for me! Me! ME!

North, South, East, West. Mother's Milk Is Still The Best.

I would like to preface this post with saying that I am an ardent supporter of breastfeeding... and come to think of it, formula feeding too!

I'm also generally NOT a prude, nor do I think that there should be any shame or indecency associated with feeding one's child, but something happened the other day that struck me as funny and I just had to share.

I've been trying to get involved with this great parents' group in our area. As you can imagine it's mostly British mums and dads. They have been welcoming, but in a less whole-hearted and gregarious way than I'm used to in Texas.

It's not their fault. The Brits just tend to be more reserved and aren't so keen on inviting strangers "to drop by anytime" for play dates and mutual bitching, so I'm fine that things are still rather formal.

However there's one mom that I've gotten to know really well, but in a most unconventional manner...

The first time I met her, it was at another mom's house. She walked in with her kids and before introductions could be made, she pulled up her shirt to nurse her baby. No cover up or even a pretense of one.

The conversation merely pressed forward and she had to go before I could catch her name.

This happened again on the two or three other occasions I've run into her. Last time, we were in a public place and she got so caught up in the conversation that she (absent-mindedly) left her breast exposed well after her son had unlatched and nodded off.

This is all very funny to me, but only because I still don't even know her name.

**********************************************

In any case, if you were wondering about the rest of the world's attitude towards nursing mothers. The answer is... there isn't one.

(Well, at least not in my London circles.)

It makes me cringe to even think about all those times I had to squeeze into an ill-fitting fitting room to feed my son...

Or the time, I had to apologize for having to pump at work...

Or my friend that was asked to leave the dinner table because what she and her baby were doing was "gross"...

Talking A Load Off My Mind... and switching it with another

Thank you for the well wishes. My son is doing a lot better today.

I haven't done much else this week-- just lots of watching my son breathe and researching childhood asthma. I've been educating myself on the terminology, treatments, and theories.

I even contacted our local asthma specialist and got her to come to OUR HOUSE and examine my son THAT day. (It pays to be pushy, people)

There's plenty of info out there, just not much in the way of a cure or prevention...

Since my son's asthma seems to be brought on by upper respiratory infections which are a permanent fixture of... you know, CHILDHOOD and completely unavoidable, there's apparently "nothing we can do about it".

The best we can do is "hope" he outgrows it and just accept it as "part of our lives" until then.

Well, I'm sorry, but I'm just too much of a control-freak mommy to buy that!

His doctor has put him on daily inhalers as a preventative. However, I'm not too keen on that either as they seem to come with some equally scary side-effects.

I've also read that something like one in FIVE kids suffers from asthma, so I guess that means at least one in five of you parents reading this post are dealing with this too.

Any insights or support you could provide would be really helpful to me right now... even if it's just to tell me to get over myself already.

I'm a big girl. I can take it.

In the meantime, I'm going to get started on designing that bubble for us to live in and resign myself to a life of only having online friends...

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Other things that have been overshadowed by the recent week's events, as if this post wasn't long enough...

OUR HOUSE IN TEXAS SOLD!!!! Yew-haw!

Oh yeah... did I forget to tell you? It was under contract for about a month, but seeing as the last "committed buyers" backed out a week before the closing, I wasn't about to hold my breath.

In talking with other American expats in London, we've learned that most opted to rent out instead of sell their homes in the States. We actually considered doing the same when a serious offer came in...

As much as we didn't like the idea of being absentee landlords, we hated paying that mortgage even more. Now, we don't have to do either one!!!

Now for the tacky details... We certainly didn't make a killing on the house, not that we expected that we would.

We got back about as much as we put into it-- the cost of two buckets of paint and some nifty Container Store shelves, which is just fine by me.

By Popular Demand...

Because you asked so micely... TA-DA! Our mom photo!

Okay, so the black pants/white shirt combo worked well in a pinch and the portrait did turn out AWESOME! Pfff... Shows you how much I know...

This is certainly a photo that I will always cherish. It's the best "good-bye" gift I've ever received.

They walk alike, they talk alike, sometimes they even think alike...

It breaks my heart to tear my son away from all of the little friends he's made...

While he probably won't remember any them in twenty year or even.... say, tomorrow, my parting "wish" for my son's playgroup was a one last photo of all of the boys together.

Besides, I thought it would be great to show him how he was more popular at the age of TWO than either of his geeky parents ever were... Ever.

However, getting this accomplished entails corralling eight boys- six two-year olds and two big brothers- and hopefully getting one decent photo out of it... Just one. I imagined having everyone over, piling the boys on my sofa (plying the moms with mimosas), and simply start snapping away with my digital camera.

Sure, it would be no where near "perfect", but I didn't want "perfect". I wanted to capture them "just as they are"- crazy and unruly, but sweet. All we had to do was wait just another week for one of the boys to come back from visiting his grandparents...

No problem, except somehow that one week turned into two, and my simple little plan evolved into taking the boys to a professional studio and dressing them in matching outfit.

I'm not typically a fan of staged photos, but since it was now going to take place in the middle of our move, I cheerfully set up an appointment at a local studio that I've used in the past and liked.

They didn't even balk when I told them the number of toddlers that would have to be posed, looking at the camera ,and smiling... at... the... same... time.

As "picture day" approached, my son got sick and I had to cancel the morning of. The other moms and kids got together anyway at a local park or somewhere, and unilaterally decided that we should get a photo of the moms, too (!!!)

Also, in matching outfits... (gag.)

Again, the studio didn't flinch when I called to reschedule and inform them about the "moms photo" that we would also like done. In fact, they were more than happy to accommodate us, although I'm sure there was plenty of eye-rolling and heavy sighing as soon as I hung up.

Well, at least there was on MY end of the call... Matching mommy outfits? Really?

The following week, we had to cancel our appointment again due to a death in one of the families... and some hemming and hawing over the jeans which we, the moms, were supposed to wear.

Apparently, one of the moms doesn't own any jeans... like, AT ALL... or maybe it was that she didn't find jeans to be flattering on her...

Well, whatever it was... Jeans are out, but everyone has black pants, right? And a white shirt?

Wow! My favorite combination... for a cater waiter.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Elephants, Peanuts, and Buried Saints

Our house was a total wreck for the showings over the holiday weekend. It was our last weekend to pack and with so much of it left to do, we just kept at it, as agent after agent strolled through with buyers.

My in-laws were in town helping us as well, and my mother-in-law instituted a maddening, but effective system of emptying every drawer and cupboard onto the counters, then packing everything all at once. Previously, we were trying to be neat and just pack one little area at at time, which was NOT working...

So with everything we own not only OUT, but also covering every surface, each couple had to step over our boxes and piles of packing peanuts to "admire" the house. I say (air quotes) admire, because the feedback that was given to our agent and passed along to us was not good...

Until this weekend, we hardly got any feedback. Mostly that "the house was nice and showed well, but the buyers were still looking". This time, we got "the house is too small and dark", "hated the neighborhood", or "hated the built-ins and other decorative upgrades"...

I know I shouldn't obsess over the random comments of random strangers who lack imagination, but I've been bitter about it ever since. Obviously, circumstances were not ideal, but again, it's hard not to take this sort of stuff personally.

However, I'm not sure what is the "best circumstance" when it comes to selling a house, but you better believe that everyone has an opinion on the matter... and is dying to share it with me.

My mother-in-law insists that a properly staged home sells the quickest. On the other hand, I have friends who insist that an empty house allows buyers to better visualize their stuff in each room. More importantly, buyers avoid getting distracted by something you own and plan to take with you and has nothing to do with the house itself...

I tend to agree with that latter advice. When we were house hunting, we walked into a home where the owners were obsessed with elephants. Uhhhb-sessed! There were tables, chairs, and planters shaped like elephants. They had elephant throw pillows, elephant artwork, soap carved into teeny tiny elephants, and even two large plush elephants posed as if they were kissing...

Hubby and I (and even our real estate agent) got so caught up in making fun of them, that we totally didn't take the house seriously... AT ALL.

There was also the time when we walked into a house where the owners had just cooked bacon. I'm sure the house could have been aired out and been fine, but it just smelled (and thereby looked) entirely too greasy and gross to us that we never even looked at the house. The smell was so overpowering that we simply turned around and walked out immediately.

Our house does not smell like bacon.

One person who recently sold a house in one of the priciest and worst housing markets in the country told me that buyers really go for perfectly aligned vacuum tracks on carpet. I guess I know I'll be doing every other day until my son and I leave to London...

Of course, there is also the myth/urban legend about burying a saint in your front yard, which all of my Catholic friends swear by. Being a practicing Catholic myself, I did a little research on the matter (Google) and discovered that there's a whole spell-casting, candle-burning, dousing of magic oils aspect to it, as well...

I even found a "St. Joseph House Selling Kit" on Amazon for $19.95. Oh, baby! Yeah!

Stealing My Thunder

The other day, I went over to tell my next door neighbors about our upcoming move to Loooooon-don.

OMG, I still can't even believe I'm saying that!

Anyway, I though it would be courteous to give them a little forewarning before the "For Sale" sign went up in the yard.

Relations between the next door neighbors and us have cozied since we finally broke down and hired a lawn service for our yard. We're still not the best of friends, but they are nice people and great neighbors. It's a shame we have to leave them.

They were sad too, but super excited for us. As you can imagine, we've been getting that reaction a lot lately. Having been through a similar situation, my neighbor warned me about the range of emotions to expect from our loved ones...

Shock/denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance and asking to crash at your place when they visit you in the fabulous new city you will be living in.... Sound familiar?

I didn't really believe her until the e-mails and phone calls started pouring in. Most are supportive and excited. One person's messages consisted of random brain farts about going to Wimbledon and courtesying to the Queen, and, of course, a lot of requests to visit...

The moms in my playgroup immediately started planning a girls' trip to London this Fall, although I have no idea who the heck they plan on staying with... hehe! Well, except for one...

As I mentioned in my previous post, I could have blabbed about moving to London ages ago when we were only thinking about it (Lord knows we had a lot to think about), but I didn't. Although we kept our families in the loop as things were progressing, I waited until things were finalized and we had made a decision before telling our friends.

However, when I announced our news at playgroup the next day, another mom took the opportunity to announce that she was moving too... maybe. To Houston... she thinks...

You see, her husband may be up for a new position that could possibly relocate the family this Summer... but, it may not happen until the Fall.... Winter? Totally, by next year. They don't know exactly because the job hasn't quite been offered to him yet... but, it's totally his... in a "wink-nudge" kind of way... (gag!)

She admitted that she plan to keep her news to herself until things were FINALIZED, but only brought it up because I had just announced that we're definitely moving...

After that, whenever one of the other moms wanted to hear the details about our move or Hubby job, she would counter with more of their tentative plans to repaint the walls so her house sells better... or ask about our thoughts on converting her pool to saltwater... you know, so her house sells better.

No.

One.

Cares.

I'm selling all my worldly possessions and giving up everything familiar, so my Husband can pursue his dreams and we can live in London.

I WIN!

Geez, some moms just can't let the competition just end....

Birthday v2.0: Part-ies

If you missed the first installment, you can find it here. The second installment is here. For those of you rolling your eyes, I promise to find something other than my son's birthday to blog about soon...

So yesterday when I said that our ride on Thomas the Tank Engine with his six friends from playgroup was supposed to be my son's only big birthday celebration, I wasn't lying... exactly. In an effort to keep things simple, it was supposed to be the only thing...

Before I heard about "Day Out With Thomas", Hubby and I considered taking a family trip to SeaWorld in San Antonio over his birthday weekend. While it probably would have been just as expensive as throwing a party (or two parties in this case), it would have been LESS insane to plan for...

You see, I actually abhor the "bigger is better for birthdays" philosophy. We have just as much fun at parties held in a backyard or at the park as we do at Chuck E Cheese or the Wiggly Play Center. With so many parents turning their noses at big-budget kid's parties, it’s more of a statement if you don't have one too.

I feel absolutely no need to compete with any of the other parents we know. If anything, they would have to compete with us, because no matter how much we say that we want keep things low-key and small, we can't help ourselves. The word "simple" just isn't in our vocabulary.

We look at it this way... We have been blessed with so many wonderful friends and an awesome family, we LOVE throwing parties, and we adore our son. So what better excuse to invite all of our friends to a party for our son than his BIRTHDAY?! And that's where things start to unravel...

Next thing you know I'm stressing over the societal implications of our party favors, staying up late to mix party CDs, and antagonizing my local bakery...

Amidst the frenzy of planning and preparing, I kept asking myself, "who am I really do this for?" I mean, here I am dragging my son along to pick out birthday hats and balloon, instead of taking him to the park... "Is this really worth it?"

All it takes is this happy little face to know that it was!

"Thank you, Mommy. You throw a great party and have such shiny hair!"

But still... Next time when I promise to keep things smallish, simple, and low-key, do me a BIG favor and please hold me too it.

By the way, Gymboree did a FANTASIC job with the 12 two-year-olds, 3 baby sisters, 2 big brothers, and 1 five-year-old cousin that ended up making it to the party, as you can probably tell from the photos.

They were so imaginative, warm, and engaging. The best part? They took care of everything once we got there, which means no messy colored frosting on my walls and kitchen floor.

What Did You Expect?

What is it about motherhood (or the hint of impending motherhood) that makes people think your personal life is public domain?

Case in point, take this conversation I had with a friend last week. She called me while I was in the middle of a (particularly difficult) shopping trip with my son to confirm that...

SHE: Hey, in case you were wondering if K is pregnant. She is definitely NOT!

ME: Um, I wasn't but, all right, what brought that up?

SHE: Yeah, well she's been wearing these puffy tops and empire waists lately. They're in style, but it looked like she was starting to show... So, I just HAD to ask her point blank, "Are you...?"

ME: Oh, and how did that go?

SHE: BAD-LY. She said something about getting back on Weight Watchers and running a marathon before and needed to do it again... Anyway, I was so mortified! I tried to cover it up by saying that it was probably just the shirt that made her look...

ME: Fat?

SHE: She just looks like such CRAP these days. I figured she must be pregnant!

At this point, my son started screaming LOUDLY in the middle of the store and I had to let her go, but there really wasn't much more to say after that other than, "WOW!"

Who would have thought that a tantrum could be a welcomed interruption?

After like, every last friend I have has told me that she's pregnant, with one due any day now and another expecting twins, I can't turn down a glass of wine without some raised eyebrows and downward glances.

Okay, so it's more like FIVE of my friends, but I'm serious about the wine...

Not only am I even more self-conscious about my own tubbiness, I hid the fact that I had that nasty stomach bug for two weeks simply to avoid the conversation that starts with, "well, did you pee on a stick... do you know for sure, it's just a bug... You never knoooooooow"...

Actually, yes I do and it's none of your business... Geeez!

Peeved

I've noticed that my friends who don't have kids will completely STOP talking mid-sentence the very second that my gaze turns to my child. I don't mean get up, walk to the other side of the room, and attend to my child... just a quick "hey, where's my kid and what is he doing" glance.

... and I'm talking about that "oh so dramatic" paaaaause, as if they're just soooooo put out by the fact that they can't have my FULL undivided (unmultiplied?) attention. It's the passive aggressive version of "ahem, ahem" and it's twice as obnoxious.

Although, how often do you ever really have anyone's full attention- kids or no kids?

I used to work with a lady who incessantly pecked at her Blackberry during huge presentations, most of which were being given specifically for her. Presentations that often had to be repeated for her later via conference call, where she was no doubt e-mailing and IMing on the other end...

It was annoying, but did anyone ever paaaaaause in the middle until she looked up again. Nope.

Other parents seem to realize that yes, in fact, I CAN look at my son and be listening to them... at the same time no less. Perhaps it is annoying that I keep looking at my son while talking to you, but keeping an eye on him is part of the job.

Besides, what's more annoying-- making sure my son isn't destroying your house or letting my kid destroy you house while I listen oh so attentively to every last detail about that movie that you saw and I didn't...

These are usually the same childless people that constantly boast that "when THEY have kids, they will never (fill in the blank)... and those kids will be on a tight leash..." (Umm, good luck with that. Hopefully, someone else won't give you grief when you have to attend to that "leash"...)

It's a subtle (petty?) thing, but it just happens to be one of my biggest pet peeves post-parenthood.

What are some of your parenting pet peeves, Blog Hoppers? I want to hear your drunken rants!

Speechless

Early last week, I mentioned taking my son to the doctor. He's had the same icky congestion and constantly getting ear infections since last Fall.

Now, I may only have a Bachelors in Psych and a Masters in Management, but I, in my medical opinion and with my vast medical knowledge and training, determined that these little issues could be all be solved with some allergy medicine.

Allergy medicine that I needed a "real" doctor to dose and prescribe... I wasn't really interested in her opinions, mind you.

Since I drove all the way there, waited for-freakin'-ever in a sterile white room with a view of the parking lot and NO TOYS, and paid my money, I wanted to discuss a few other things with her while we had our fifteen seconds...er, minutes with her.

The conversation dwelled on normal toddler issues, my son's recent lack of appetite and his toddler PMS, when I let slip that my son doesn't talk very much. She actually stopped tapping on her touchscreen for a moment and asked, "what do you mean?"

"What I mean," I continued, "is that my son understands with incredible depth everything we say to him. He just doesn't say many words consistently... well, beyond 'ma', 'da'. 'do' (dog), and 'dat' (what's that?)." Occasionally, he'll add a new word or two, say it once, then never repeat it again. I just attributed it to his personality, which is somewhat reserved and more observant. Less vocal, more mechanical. I really wasn't worried it. Honest. I only mentioned it for "completeness" at the exam.

According to my mother-in-law, my husband didn't talk until well past two! She assured me a long time ago that "if he's like his father, he'll say nothing and then just start talking in complete sentences and with perfect diction one day...and...never...stop". (And, no she was not exaggerating.) My son is everything like his father...

He does well with his other (nonverbal) communication-- some baby sign language, but mostly gestures when he needs something. I didn't think this is unusual for kids his age.

In fact, all but one or two of his friends talk, if you can call it that... and it's mostly unintelligible blabbing that their parents attribute meaning to...

"Dat! Dat!"

"What?"

"Oh, he just asked 'Can I have a cookie?"

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, he's so smart... Say 'please', dear"

"NAAAHHHH!" (starts crying, runs off with a cookie)

...and their moms, dads, and pediatricians aren't concerned.

So when our doctor referred us to the county's Early Childhood Intervention (ECI) for speech therapy, I was shocked.

It's hard for me to truly express how I feel about this. (Ironic, no?) I put off blogging about it because it upset me so much and talking about it didn't help. When I told some of my mommy friends about it, they were outraged on my behalf.

So, I've downplayed it as simply "making use of the services my taxes provide", which seems to placate them.

Personally, I think they're probably a little outraged on their behalf as well. Their sons, who are slightly older than mine, seem to be at the same pace with their language development, and what mother wouldn't be put off by being told that their child is anything less than happy and NORMAL.

Of course, I want to do everything I can to help my son, so last week, I made the appointments for his intake and assessment with ECI. The whole thing has thrown me in such a loop that I started stuttering while speaking to the counselor assigned to us. I made a joke about being the one having "speech delays" and she laughed. That made me feel better.

Our appointment isn't for a few weeks, so I'll know more then. In the meantime, I want to get your input. Has anyone else dealt with this sort of thing before?

The Lesser of Evils

I resisted the urge to be catty and gossipy today.

As an aside, one of my friends mentioned that she finds someone in our mom's group to be totally annoying. Since it really didn't have anything to do with our conversation, I told her she didn't have to tell me who...

Hurray for me, right?

So, why has it been driving me NUTS that I don't know who it is?

Well okay, I kinda know, but not really and I can't stop wondering about it...

1, 2, Buckle My Shoe. 3, 4, Run Out the Door.

They say that age two
was so much better than three.
Four, five. Such a breeze!

Six, barely survived
on a wing and a prayer.
Seven brings relief.

Can you please tell me
just how to get through today?
To make it past ONE.

This haiku is dedicated to all the mommies that like to compete over which stage is harder- the one their kid is in, or yours... No one wins. Just give it a rest.

Happy New Year!

My 2008 started off with a "who-hoo", wadda'bout you?

We were fast asleep before midnight, but I didn't mind. I've come to terms with the fact that I'm not really that into "New Years" and I'm totally okay with it. In fact, I was up bright and early today for a 90 minute spinning class. See, I'm already doing good with my one obligatory resolution!

As I had mentioned before, I hadn't planned on making any huge resolutions this year. I like to think of my life as being in a constant state of improvement and planned to continue in that direction.

Then, I was feeling so feakin' great climbing all of those imaginary hills that I was supposed to be envisioning (and 90 minutes is a REALLY long time to hang out on a stationary bike) that I started wondering why I didn't make time for this before... Why am I always so "busy"?

Well, there's the perpetual housework, our "ten-parties-in-two-weeks" social life, my sick need to host every baby shower or major family function (and host it well), and run every group I belong to... and so forth.

It came down to this... I NEED TO LET IT GO!

As I was spinning away, I came up with a few more resolutions. I realized that the housework wouldn't be so monstrous if we hosted fewer parties or bought less stuff in 2008. (In fact, that would even help my other goal of staying within our household budget for once... hmmm...) Most of the mess around here is dust and clutter. Get rid of the clutter, get rid of the mess and dust. Brilliant!

I was really sad about not hosting as many parties. I love hosting parties... and, dare I say, am quite the rock star at it too, but realistically, at this point in our lives, we don't have time for polishing silver, stuffing deviled eggs, and digging wax out of candle holders when there's a toddler begging us to play at the train table with him. In the long run, playing with trains is probably more important anyhow.

I also plan to do less for other people. Yes, you read that correctly. Do less for others. I find that I do a lot of pointless things in the interest of pleasing others... Of course, I'm taking about doing the things that aren't from the heart and end up making me feel put upon and stressed.

Things like offering to host a cheesy "Southern Living at Home" party at my house, because one of the playgroup mommies saw the spring catalog on my coffee table and said she's love to go to one of those. Of course, I got the catalog at another party my neighbor threw earlier in the week. She would get a discount on anything she buys if I had my own party... Next thing I know, I'm booking something on the 22nd that I'm dreading all so two people can spend more money.

While I was on that bike this morning, it occurred to me that I didn't even like any of the stuff they were selling in the catalog and since I'll be doing with less, I decided to just cancel the party. Eureka!

Isn't one of the benefits of regular exercise clearer thinking? Well, the proof of that is right here!

In 2008, I will focus on things that are real-- spending quality time with our REAL friends, getting REAL results in terms of my fitness, and all the things that REALly matter.

Happy New Year!

Help Is On The Way

This weekend, I received a frantic late night phone call from a new mom I know. I was putting my son to bed at the time, so I couldn't pick up. She didn't leave a message, but I later found out that she had a question about the baby's laundry... How to do it?

Home from the hospital with a newborn daughter and fresh off the narcotics, she was coming to the shocking realization about how clueless she is about this whole "basic infant care" thing...

When she couldn't reach me, she fortunately found someone else to walk her through the gentle cycle, but I was rather pleased to be the first person she thought to call for help.

Maybe I'm not such a mommy hack after all... or am I???

At the very least, I have the air of someone in the know, because her next question to me was, "What's a changing pad and why can't I find it at Target?"

Once I directed her to the exact aisle and section at our local Babies R'Us (because yes, I know exactly where they are), I also advised her to just put me and a few of our mutual mommy friends on SPEED DIAL and call us ANY TIME.

She needs all the help she can get... but then again, don't we all?

Obligatory New Year's Resolution Post

I wasn't planning on making any huge resolutions for the coming year. In fact, it was mostly supposed to be more of the same... spend less money/mind the budget better, come up with better systems to keep the house tidier, do less nagging...

That is until I uploaded some holiday photos and happened upon one where I'm the FATTEST person in the picture. Normally, this wouldn't have phased me much except that the other two people in the picture JUST HAD FULL TERM BABIES within the past 12 weeks...

Insistent that I was just being hyper self-critical or it was just a bad angle or something, I clicked through a few more photos from that same evening...

Umm... nope, unfortunately I really am a LARD ASS and something must be done about it. I'm not to only one to think so either. On Christmas Day, I opened up a "Body Minder Workout and Exercise Journal" from my personal-trainer-to-the-stars sister-in-law. She meant well, but the message was loud and clear...

Hmmm, looks like there's room for one more resolution...and NO, I will not be posting the photo online.

Will anyone else be rockin' it at the gym with me in '08?

Not the White Christmas I had hoped for...

Last night was our Mom's Only Christmas party, which was a lot more fun than the Children's Christmas Party last week. There were no appearances by Santa, that's for sure. (Already an improvement...)

This afternoon, I was busy making appetizers to bring to the party. I had a stuffed pork roast in the oven and potatoes for mashing on the stove... because you better believe that Hubby comes home to a delicious dinner every night.

Yes, even on the evenings when I'm going out and Hubby and Son are staying in. (SAHMmy would be proud, wouldn't she?)

I was glowing in my rarefied domesticity when I realized that my son had seemed awfully busy (quiet) for much longer than usual. It was because he had poured out his sippy cup and was splashing in a puddle of milk behind the sofa...

Yeah, you can say it was a well-deserved night out, but then again... Aren't they all?

Boycotting Santa

Well, it looks like we'll be forgoing the obligatory "Santa Photo" again this year. I'm sorry, Son.

It's not for lack of opportunities. We've seen Santa at several shopping centers all over town, but keep walking when we spot the of line of antsy kids and stressed out parents leading up to the "man with all the toys".

There was even a Santa at our Mom's Group Christmas party last week. It was supposed to be for all the parents, er... kids that aren't quite ready for a mall Santa and, best part, it was free! "What a great idea! I can get this over with today," I thought, but after watching every manner of tantrum, frightful sobbing, and desperate clinging go before me, I was over it and never even went up with my son. I think it made for a happier afternoon for both of us...

Call me a freak or a "ba-hum-bug", but photos on Santa's lap are just not that big of a deal for me. I can take 'em or I can leave 'em... unlike one of my friends who is flying to Atlanta, Georgia to see Santa at Phipps Plaza. We live in DALLAS, Texas, people...

This is a Santa that is so popular that he only see kids by appointment. They're all booked up, by the way, so don't even bother to do the same. My friend had to book their visit an entire two months in advance, because apparently this Santa is the BEST and her little boy deserves the BEST.

Ummmm, this is the same kid that wants to eat all the time, compulsively climbs on everything, get spooked when people sing, and hates strangers... Yeah, I'm sure it will go swimmingly with Santa.

We didn't get a Santa picture done last year because I was still working full time, but this year I blame it completely on apathy. At this point, Santa will have to come to US before there will be any good girls or boys, sitting on laps and asking for toys.

Dirty Santa

As I got the first of my Christmas packages shipped yesterday, I was feeling rather proud of myself. I only had one or two gifts left to buy. The rest were under my tree, wrapped and sparkling with Christmas cheer... or so I thought.

I thought that quitting my job meant never having to buy another "coworker gift" for the rest of my life. I was wrong. It turns out I have another kind of co-worker these days...

My playgroup mommies.

As I was informed last night that the precedent was set (long before I joined) that our playgroup gets each other Christmas gifts. For the kids AND the mommies...

There are (officially) six boys in our playgroup, including my son. However, there are two older brothers who are always with us and undeniably part of the group as well. That's SEVEN additional gifts, plus five mommy gifts to purchase. Although I consider these ladies to be good friends (and more importantly, awesome travel companions) and love their kids like my own, that's more additional dinero (plus time shopping) than I'm wanting to spend...

I know I shouldn't feel obligated to give a gift, but then again, I kinda do. Do you think I can get away with being the one that sends the lovely and prompt thank you cards?

Considerate, Aren't I?

Blew off the playgroup
Blamed it on my cough and cold.
My head is fuzzy.

Highly contagious.
Would hate to infect others,
with terribleness!

Or, so I told them.
It's really last night's red wine
That makes me remiss.

Plan to use the time
To publish my final post.
NaBloPoMo ends.

For more Haiku Friday, check out A Mommy Story and Playgroups are No Place for Children.