I'll drink to that...

Diamonds are not a girl's best friend... at least, not this girl.  A stiff drink is this girl's best friend!  Let me tell you that once I became a mother, I realized that in order to keep my sanity, alcohol would need to be a loving part of my life.

Oh sure, I could turn to exercise to relax me.  Or prayer, to calm my mind.  But here's how those things look to me... 

"I should exercise.  Except that I've been up since 5:30 this morning, and I feel like my feet are cemented to the floor.  And if I lay down to do a sit up, I'll probably fall asleep on my exercise mat.  Not to mention that I would have to get changed out of my work clothes.  So I would have to take these clothes off, and get into new clothes?  That seems like a whole lot of work.  Nah, I think I'll grab a beer and plop my bum in front of Pinterest for the evening."

And then there's prayer, it looks something like this...

"Dear Lord, thank you for giving me the strength to get through the day.  I'm sorry I lost my temper and yelled at the girls.  At least I didn't curse at them like I did that jackass who pulled out in front of me on my drive home today.  What is wrong with people anyway, they can't get their head out of their ass long enough to have a look around before they pull out of a parking lot.  Like, hello?!  And you know what else, my coworkers have been so freaking cranky lately... they're ruining my good attitude. I come to work every day with a smile on my face.  But then I hear the bitching and complaining, and I want to throw myself out my office window.  I'm a happy person, god damn it, and I'm tired of cranky ass motherfu... wait a second, where was I?  Oh just forget it."

Don't get me wrong, I don't think drinking solves anything.  The same way as money can't buy you happiness.  But it sure helps!  You see, we don't have air conditioning in our house.  Mostly because all of the windows open in a way that makes it impossible to install one.  And this time of year is hot.  So. Freaking. Hot.  And the girls come home from daycare, and we have supper, and we play, and we put them to bed, and I'm still So. Freaking. Hot.  Not to mention cranky, from all the bullshit that goes on during a normal working day.  So a nice cold beer... well it's pure heaven!  I twist the top off (okay, I hand it to Danny to twist the top off because I still can't figure out how to do it without wripping my hands to shreds!), take a big gulp, and.... ahhhhhhh!!  The power of alcohol!

I understand that, for some, drinking may cause more problems than it solves.  Those people should stay away from alcohol!!  Meditation, prayer, and exercise will probably work well for you!  But for us tired, cranky, overworked mothers... there is nothing like a little shot of liquid refreshment to give you the energy you need to make it through the rest of the night.

And don't think that you can judge me for this... I know lots of women who look like those perfect mothers in magazines.  They speak oh so nicely to their children all the time, they smile at their annoying husbands, they loooove their jobs.  But let me tell you, when girls' night comes around, we all agree that a little alcohol makes motherhood/wifeness/working just a little bit better.  And having a little treat to make bad days a little more tolerable?  Well, I'll drink to that!!

The Slumber Party

I had a sleepover with Gracie last night.  It was more like a slumber party, but she called it a sleepover.  Danny was away camping with the boys Friday night, so Gracie and I decided to have a girls' night.  We started off with supper out, then came home and played until it was time to put Ella to bed.  After Ella was tucked in, our girl's night could begin...

Jumping on the bed!!

She had so much fun jumping!

We started by getting into our jammies.   Gracie was very excited that mommy had bright pink jammies  (even though they're Christmas Spongebob pajamas).  After we were all dressed for our sleepover, we took a bunch of pictures and made a bunch of funny faces.  The we jumped on the bed for a while, and read a new book that I bought Gracie (a really cute book called "That Yucky Love Thing").  

Blowing on her toes

Gracie is doing a lovely job!

The finished product... see, pretty!

After our nails were dry and the slumber party festivities had all taken place, it was time to settle in for our movie.  It was almost 8:30, a full hour and a half past Gracie usual bedtime.  And I was tired, so I assumed she was too!  Apparently, slumber parties mean that the energy reserve gets turned on, because that girl didn't even blink through the move, let alone start to fall asleep!  We watched Cinderella, and ate some popcorn, and when the movie ended at 10:00, I was ready for bed!  Gracie said, "Can we watch more shows, mommy?" and I said, "No way, jose!"  It was lights out, and Gracie finally fell asleep around 10:30, in mommy's bed!

Here are a few things I learned from our sleepover...

1.  Gracie needs to work on her eye-hand coordination... at least while yielding a nail polish brush!

2.  Gracie is willing to share, but only on her terms.  I took a huge handful of the popcorn, to which she exclaimed "Mommy!  Don't take it all! You have to save some for me. Here, I'll share with you, but only one piece at a time."  For the record, there's still half a bag left, so it's not like I was going to leave her starving!

3.  The amount of energy a child can have stored up for nights like sleepover night is astounding.  After I finally called lights out, she talked, literally, until the second she fell asleep.  

4.  When you don't watch TV with your children, turning on a movie makes you seem like supermom to them.  She even called the movie her "special treat."  She was very excited about it!  But it didn't stop her from talking through the entire movie.  Watching a movie with a child is like sitting beside the most annoying person on earth at the move theatre.  "What's she wearing, mommy?" "Why'd she'd do that, mommy?"  "Where did she go, mommy?" "Why did the cat do that to the mouse, mommy?"  Seriously Gracie, shush!!

5.  Two year olds are the nosiest sleepers on the planet.  Gracie was the loudest mouth-breather ever.  I was up most of the night listening to her wheeze and snore.  But it sure was nice snuggling up with her just before she fell asleep.  It may have been a restless night for me, but I loved having her tucked in beside me.  Even if she did kick off the blankets, punch me in the nose, fart as loud as Danny, and randomly scream "Nooooooo!!!" at 3:06 a.m.  

God, I love that kid! 

Grocery Shopping (aka - To Hell and Back!)

Do you know what is most exhausting about being a parent?  Nope, it's not the sleepless nights when babies are first born.  Nope, it's not dealing with the teething of an incredibly cranky infant.  Nope, it's not even working a full-time job and then coming home to care for your two children (and a husband).  It's grocery shopping.

Grocery shopping used to be a pleasure in my life.  Danny and I used to go and roam the aisles, imagining all sorts of delicious dishes we could make.  Now, by the end of our grocery shopping trips, it feels like someone has dragged us over the coals and we leave the store whimpering, and limping, and envisioning a tall, tall, tall, glass of some sort of alcoholic beverage... or if we're really desperate, anti-freeze would do.

Here's what an average trip to the grocery store looks like for us:

"Sammy, got the list?" 

"Yup, got it right here!"

"Ready to go?"

"Hold on, I have to pack up half the kitchen-full of snacks, because the bottomless pits we call children will think they are little, unfed, orphan children after being without food for any longer than 10 minutes."

So we load the kids into the car, and Gracie cries "Mommy, turn on my song!  No, not that one, the one about the duckies going quack, quack, quack.  Now sing Mommy.  SING!!"

We arrive at the grocery store after eight rounds of "Five Little Ducks."  I grab one child, Danny grabs the other and into the store we go.  So far, so good.  We put Ella in the cart, and Gracie, in her ever-growing independent way, says "Mommy, I will walk."  Fruits and veggies are first.  Fruits and veggies are also my girls' favourite snacks.  Which means they realize it's been a whole 10 minutes since they've eaten.  Gracie is getting old enough to understand that the grocery store is not a sampling plate, and we cannot just eat whatever we want.  Ella does not understand this.  In fact, even if Ella did understand it, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't give a shit.  That's just the way her personality is developing (oh yes, she's going to be fun!).  So Ella starts pointing and screeching "Dat!!  Dat!!! Daaaaaaaat!  DAAAAAAAAAAATT"   I pull out her snack (cause I'm always prepared!) and hand her a bag of cheerios.  She's happy, and quiet.  All is well. 

Meanwhile, Gracie is talking a mile a minute.  "What's that Mommy?  A turnip?  In my book the piggies eat the turnips and they're a special treat.  What's that Mommy?  Mommy?  Mommy!!!!  What's that?  I like plums.  Mommy.  Mommy!!!   I like plums. I like plums.  Mommy?  MOMMY!  One time at Nancy's, I had a plum.  And I shared it.  Cause we share.  That's good, right Mommy?  Mommy?  Daddy!  Mommy's not listening to me."

I'm probably standing over the bananas by now, trying to pick the perfect bunch, and I hear a screeching coming from the cart.  Ella has dumped her bag of cheerios all over the floor.  I feed my children lots of food off the floor, but not the grocery store floors.  That's dirty.  So now she's pissed.  But it's okay, cause I have backup.  I search the bag for the granola bar I brought... it's not there.  Where is the granola bar?  Oh, for the love of God, where is the granola bar?!?!  I forgot the granola bar.  Ella is pisssssssed! 

What is that I hear? "Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy!!!"  "Yes, Gracie!  What do you want?" "Can we go see the lobsters, I want to say hi!"  So off to the lobsters we go.  Gracie can't see them from the ground, so now she wants up in the cart.  She gets in, and sees the raspberries I've hidden beneath the lettuce.  "Raspberries! Mommy, I love raspberries!  Can I have some?"  She's waving them in the air, and now Ella sees them.  Ella loves raspberries too.  And now she wants them!  Quick, distraction!  "Look at the lobsters!!"

We're finally out of the fruits and veggies section, and onto the meats.  We pick up what we need, and Gracie keeps on talking.  "What's that mommy?  Ribs?  What's ribs?  That's ribs?  But what is it?  What's that?  Why is it red?  I like red.  At home in my bedroom I have a red cat.  And there's red on Ella's shirt.  What colour is this mommy?  Green?  I don't like green.  I do like green.  No, I don't like green.  I like pink.  And purple.  Purple is my favourite.  Mommy?  Daddy!  Mommy's not listening to me! I want out of the cart." 

So she gets out.  She stands in the middle of the aisle, and I have to tell her 400 times to move out of the way before she gets run over by a cart.  She also touches things.  Every thing.  We have a discusion about how we keep our hands to ourselves or we have to get in the cart.  When I stand up Ella is going "Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm."  Oh fantastic, she's discovered that when nobody is watching her, she can slip grapes through the holes in the bag and eat them without being discovered.  Except that Ella is the loudest, most appreciative eater ever, and her ever-loud "Mmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm"s give her away.  I take away the grapes.  Ella is pisssssssed!  Gracie comes over with two boxes of cookies.  "I'll get these mommy, they're a special treat."  I take away the cookies.  Gracie is pissssssed!

We're only half-way through the aisles, but all I can think about is checking out.  Forget the rest of the food, we'll make it by on tuna fish and grapes!

We check out, get the groceries to the car, get the girls loaded in, and head for home.  Once we get there, Danny and I each put a child under one arm, and stack 10 bags on the other.  We make it into the house.  Finally. 

"What's for supper?" Danny asks.  "Mommy, I'm hungry!" Gracie says.  "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!!!"  Ella screams. 

We just spent $200.00 on groceries.  But I'm exhausted and ready to just lay on the kitchen floor and let the kids chew on my legs for their dinner.  So, I use the obvious response.  "Let's go out for supper."