Napping, mommy style...

The hot weather has made it very difficult for me to get a decent night's sleep!  I've been tired and cranky through the days and hot and miserable through the nights!  One day last week, Gracie had an eye appointment so I picked her up from Nancy's house in the early afternoon and off we went.

When we got back from the appointment, I realized it was just the two of us in the house, and the wind was blowing just right, and I was freaking tired.  I asked Gracie if she wanted to play in mommy and daddy's room while mommy had a little snooze.  Gracie was very excited about it!  She walked me in while holding my hand, told me to get on my jammies (which I refused, much to her dismay!), put me in bed and read me a story.  Then she sang me a song, patted my hair, and gave me a kiss.  She whispered "goodnight mommy" and I smiled and closed my eyes. 

If you think that's where this sweet story ends, you obviously don't have kids...

She sat quietly beside me on the bed for hours!  Or, if you translate that to kid time, about two minutes.  And then she got bored.  I turned the TV on for her (a treat in our house, since we never watch it!) and that occupied her for another couple of hours (four minutes).  Then she wanted to get her toys.  Perfect!  She could play while I slept. 

So she got off the bed.  Then she got on the bed.  Then she got off the bed.  Then she got on the bed.  Then she crawled over the top of me because she dropped a toy on my side.  She picked up the toy and threw it on the bed.  She missed the bed, and it hit me in the forehead.  Then she had to get back on the bed, so she crawled back over me again.  Ouch!  An elbow in the throat!

She went back into the living room and brought in her Barbies.  She play with them on the floor for a while, but then she got bored and decided to get her stuffed animals instead.  She came back in the room with all of her stuffed animals.  But they weren't for her, they were for me!  Apparently, you can't nap without a legion of stuffies watching you sleep.  She she put one under my arm, one under my other arm, one tucked into my shirt, and the rest she lined up on the pillow right above my head.  One of the animals kept falling over, so she kept leaning in to grab it.  Owwww, my hair!!!  Now it rolled off the bed.  She's pretty sure she can grab it by just laying over the side of the bed... except that I'm in her way.  So she asks me to grab it.  I ignore her, of course, because I'm "sleeping."  So she puts her hand on face to steady herself as she leans over the bed to grab the animal of the floor.  She may only weigh 28 pounds, but that's 28 pounds pushing on my face, and now I look like a smooshed fish.

Now that we're all settled in with the animals, she decides to play quietly by herself.  I actually snooze for about three minutes, until I feel her rubbing her hands all over my face and my arms.  "It's okay mommy," she whispers, "I'm just putting some lotion cream on you."  Oh, okay.  Lotion.  Nice.  Wait, what?  What lotion?  We don't have lotion in here!?  Oh perfect, I've just gotten a lovely massage of KY into my cheeks and up my nose.  Fantastic, my face is all lubed up and ready to go!  But I still can't open my eyes because once I'm "awake" that means I have to start parenting again! 

It doesn't matter though, because a few minutes later she decides I've had a long enough nap and she leans over me, grabs an eyelid and pries it open.  "Time to get up, mommy.  Do you feel better?" 

Oh yes... napping, mommy style, leaves me feeling so refreshed! *yawn*

O' Childless Night

Danny and Gracie spent last week visiting his family in Fogo Island.  They flew out last Sunday and came home Friday morning.  On Wednesday, Ella's babysitter asked if she could keep her overnight for a sleepover (something she also got to do with Gracie when Gracie was smaller).  I didn't even hesitate, and I found myself facing something I haven't had in more than 2 years... a whole day and night without children (or a husband for that matter).

I immediately started planning my evening... should I just pick up a bottle of wine and really enjoy myself?  Should I go to bed at 8:00 and just enjoy a nice, quiet, restful sleep?

I decided to go out to dinner and a movie with my sister, who is also currently husbandless and childless.  We went to Pizza Delight, which by the way is the crappiest of restaurants, but the only restaurant in town unless you want something deep fried! We ordered, had a beer, and went to the movie to see The Heat with Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy!  Hilarious!! It was a fantastic movie.  I even laughed, out loud, three times.  I'm not an out-loud laugher.  Often Danny and I will be watching a show or a movie and he'll be roaring beside me and he looks over and I"m just smiling and he always says "what is wrong with you?"  I have a very good sense of humour, I'm just not a laugh-out-loud-er.  So, needless to say, this movie was funny.

Then I went home, went to bed, and slept all night without having to listen to farts, screams, moans, groans, or have my hair pulled by a rolling husband.  It was fantastic.  It was also only 9:30.  I don't feel guilty.

So... this blog is awesomely short, and the moral of this story is every mother needs a night away from her kids.  I'm already planning a weekend at a cabin in the fall.  That's two nights.  And all you mothers are invited.  It's like therapy for the soul!  We shall eat, and drink, and we can even talk about our kids and husbands, but we shall only be responsible for ourselves.  And when we leave at the end of the weekend, we will feel fantabulous, and be much better mothers.  So, who's in?!?  :)

Dear Facebook

I don't have many friends on Facebook.  It's mostly family, or people who I really connect with, are actually friends with, or who I have things in common with and enjoy sharing things with.  This is because I share a lot of my private life on Facebook... and by private life, I mean things relating to my family.  Pictures, updates, funny moments.  I have even been known to share a frustrating moment or two, "fantastic, Ella has pooped all over the floor again!  Why, oh why, did I have two kids?!"  But my "frustrations" are mostly in good humour, and meant to tickle the funny bone of those of you silly enough to follow along with me on Facebook.  I also use Facebook to share these blogs, a rambling, sarcastic look at my day-to-day life.  You know what I don't use Facebook for?  Dirty laundry.  

Here's a secret.  Danny and I fight.  Sometimes the fights are really bad.  And that's as much detail as you're ever going to hear about them from me.  Because fights are private things, especially between a couple.  I refuse to use our arguments as a reason to rally the troops, to gather my Facebook friends against his, to make him look like an idiot, or to put his wrongdoings out there to be judged by the online world of trolls.  Because I am an adult.  And I know better.  Because I have more respect for our relationship, and for my husband, than to air our dirty laundry in a moment of anger.  Even if Danny I were ever to divorce, because he couldn't stand the fame and fortune I amassed as a famous blogger, Facebook is still not the place to air our grievances.  And yet, some people just don't get it.  Every day, I see it.  And wonder... what are you thinking?  Do you know that for every "like" you get, there are at least 10 more people shaking their head at your foolishness?  Do you really not understand how inappropriate your postings are?  Here... let me sum it up for you!

Dear Facebook:

I'm having problems in my personal life... may I splatter your walls with my issues?  I'm an adult, so technically I know that I should keep this shit to myself, but I really, really need those 23 likes!  Also, even though are always 2 sides to every story, I can't wait to have my friends join in and make completely inappropriate and derogatory comments right along with me.  The more friends who make nasty comments, the higher my maturity level seems to everybody!

Also, when my issues involve custody matters, I will be sure to demonize and vilify the other parent of my children.  Because that's what all the cool divorced parents are doing.  And because I can't seem to realize that a public forum like Facebook isn't an appropriate place to air these problems.  Not only will my kids know about them someday, but it also makes people who would normally want to support me roll their eyes in disgust.  And that's kinda what I'm going for!  Sure, it would be more appropriate to discuss these upsetting matters with my family and close friends over a cup of coffee (or hell, even a cold beer!), but instead I'll share them with all of my 428 Facebook Friends.  Same thing!  Also, while addressing my ex, I shall refer to him/her only as "stupid asshole" or "fucking bitch" because it really makes me feel grown up to swear and call names.

Oh, and guess what else?!  When I'm really jonesing for some attention, but I want to play it all cool, I'll throw out a really vague, yet somehow still incredibly personal, status, and wait for all my friends to ask me what's wrong, and then I'll either say I don't want to talk about it (even though that's the equivalent to sighing really loudly until someone notices) or I'll say "pm me," because obviously I can't give out all the juicy details on Facebook.  I have boundaries after all.

Well, that's all the drama I have to share right now.  Thanks for listening, Diary.  Wait, you're not my diary, a perfectly appropriate and non-public forum in which to air all my troubles, anger, and burning desires?!  Hmmm... ah well!!  You'll do, Facebook!

That's right people.  If you want to talk trash about your ex, you should probably do it around a bonfire in your backyard.  If your boss is driving you bonkers, or your coworkers suck, do what the rest of us do.  Smile politely at them, and then when you get home, drink a bottle of wine while you bitch to your significant other!  Feel the need to write it down?  The Dollar Store has some has really pretty diaries... some of them even have a nifty little lock and a key!  That's right, a key.  So you can lock that shit up where it belongs!

Gremlin, anybody?

Oh Ella... it's been a while since I wrote you your own little blog.  But darling, you're about to become famous! Okay, not famous... but definitely well-read-about!   Do you know that you're almost a year old now!  These past 11 months have just flown by! 

You came into this world in a hurry, but late.  You eat like a monster, but remain this teeny-tiny little being.  You sleep through the night, and yet you are exhausting.  You, my little girl, are just full of contradictions.

You have a huge personality for such a tiny little girl.  I've tried to describe this personality, but unless you can witness it, it's nearly impossible to do it justice.  You're cute, but you are oh, so very bad!!  There is something in you that, although cute at this innocent little age, is going to make my hair turn gray before you turn three.   Every morning when I drop you off at daycare, Nancy greets you with "hello, badness!"  And when I pick you up in the afternoon, I say the same thing!  How can something so tiny elicit such fear for my future?

My parents were visiting this past weekend, and although they have always been firm supporters of yours ("Samantha, don't talk about my granddaughter that way!") they are now reformed believers of your badness.  It was all my mother could do this weekend to not laugh every time your personality reared its ugly head.  The only person unaffected by your giant, angry ego was Grampy, whom you conveniently have wrapped around your little finger, and whom you've decided to spare from your fury... for now. 

You are a hitter.  And when we take your hands and firmly tell you "no!" you hit even harder, and grunt even louder.  When we did the same thing to your sister two years ago, she would immediately pucker up for her apology kiss, and do something sweet and coated with sugar to make us forgive her.  You do not.  Sometimes, if you're being extra "spirited" and daddy has to be the one to tell you no, your lip quivers, you look at the floor, and sometimes you cry.  But rest assured, as soon as we all feel bad enough for making you cry, you're back at it, with an evil little grin on your face.

Even Gracie has fallen for your double-personality.  You will hold out your arms, open your mouth wide, and say "ahh, ahh, ahh" which is code for "come give me a kiss."  But as soon as she gets close enough to you and reaches out to give you a hug, you grab onto her hair and pull, and scream like she is trying to hurt you.  I've caught on though, and realized you just like to see me scold her for making you cry... I see you now, "tee-hee-hee"ing behind your hand when she gets in trouble.  I know who is going to win in those sibling rivalry wars that are coming up.... she may be bigger than you, but you're going to play dirty!

Miss Gracie has had an attitude for as long as she's been alive.  She had, what I thought, was the biggest attitude imaginable for such a little girl.  I've learned that Gracie's attitude is based solely on her need to be independent.  Your attitude, however, is based on the fact that you are bad, bad, bad!!!  When we're in public, or friends are over, you are the cutest, sweetest little person.  You're all sugar and spice, and everything nice.  You smile, and giggle, and coo.  People always exclaim how sweet and gentle you are!  But once we get you back home, and it's just you and us, you're like a gremlin.  We can't feed you after midnight, or get you wet, because of the little monster you become!

Okay, so you're not quite as bad as a gremlin... but seriously...  you're bad!!  And after saying all of this, I still can't wait to see what kind of fun we're going to have with you growing up!! :)