Gracie the Un-Bully

I don't know if you all remember the issue we were having with Gracie earlier this year.  In case you don't, you can read about it here.  She was biting, and pinching, and hitting, and kicking, and spitting.  It was not a proud moment in my short life as a mother.  However, we spent some time working with her, and she very quickly gave it all up.

Fast forward 6 months, and Gracie is back up to no good.  She no longer bites or spits (thank GOD!!) but she has taken to picking on her friends.  When I pick her up from daycare, Nancy is telling me that she isn't being nice to the other kids and she wont let them play.  She's making other kids cry... again.

I know this is usual behaviour from kids her age... but I genuinely feel like this a huge teaching moment for our child.  In a world where kids are being bullied for the stupidest things, from the colour shirt they wear, to sexual orientation, to just being "different" from those doing the bullying, I decided to call it like it was.

"Gracie, do you know what a bully is?"

"No."

"A bully is someone who is mean to their friends and makes them cry.  Do you do this?"

"Yes.  Sometimes."

"Why do you that?"

"Because sometimes I don't want to play with *Barb so when she comes to play, I say NO!!  And sometimes I push her down because she wont go away."

"Do you do this to your other friends too?"

"Yes, sometimes I do."

"And do your friends cry?"

"Yes.  Sometimes."

"Well, when you make your friends cry on purpose, that's being a bully.  How would you like it if your friends wouldn't let you play with them?"

"I would be sad!"

"Well I bet that's how they feel too, when you wont let them play with you.  We have to be nice to our friends, Gracie.  Or else they wont want to play, and then you'll be sad."

"Okay, mommy.  I wont be a bully anymore.  I'll be a nice friend!"

On the drive to Nancy's the next day, we went over this again in the car.  Gracie got out and said she was going to be a good friend that day, and not be a bully.  And I am happy to say that so far, she's kept that promise!

A couple days ago, on our drive home, she told me about a little boy at Nancy's who was making the other kids cry...

"Mommy, John's being a bully to Abby.  He pushes her down and makes her cry."

"And what do you do when he does that?"

"I don't know."

"Well when you see someone else being a bully, you have to say 'don't be a bully!' and then tell an adult, like Nancy."

Yesterday Gracie was very excited to tell me "Mommy, John's not going to be a bully anymore.  Because I told him, 'No John!  We don't be a bully!  We have to be nice to our friends.  We don't make our friends cry on purpose!  And if he does it again, I have to tell Nancy, right mommy?"

You know, the girl may only two years old, but I think we're off to a great start.  The only thing worse than a bully are those that do nothing to stop it from happening.  So help me, if I teach my kids anything it will be to stand up for themselves, and for others who aren't strong enough to stand up on their own.  Gracie knows now what a bully is, and what she should do to stop it. At this age, a bully is someone who wont share the crayons... but the bullies are only going to get bigger and badder.  And I'm hoping that teaching Gracie this young will ensure that I have more conversations with her over the years about the bully she told to stop!

Vacation, Shmay-cation!

Oh Vacation... you are a cruel, torturous bitch!  

This week marked my first time off since returning from maternity leave more than seven months ago.  Other than a day here or there, I have been working like a dog since February, and was very much looking forward to my extra-long week off.  

I went to work Thursday morning, with the intention of being home by noon to enjoy an extra day-and-a-half tacked onto my week's vacation.  I arrived home Thursday afternoon ready to relax!  Until Charlie the wonder-pup wandered out of the guest room with wet feet. A pipe behind the wall had burst and our guest room was a soggy mess.  Danny knocked down the ceiling and put a bucket under the constant run of water, and we cursed a little.  Well, Danny cursed a little, and I cursed a lot (shocker!).  We decided we were just going to fix the leak itself and deal with the damage and renovations at a later time.  The next day my sister mentioned calling our insurance company.  The thought hadn't even crossed our minds, but by that afternoon, we had an adjuster in surveying the damage, the contractor from the restoration company arrived, and three industrial strength dehumidifiers were delivered that afternoon to start drying things out.

Although we had just had a disastrous leak on the first day of our vacation, things weren't looking too bad.  We realized that we were going to get new flooring, walls, and paint on the last room in the house to be renovated (a project we had scheduled to complete in late fall), and somebody else was going to do all the work and clean up all the mess.  It sounded pretty damn good to us!

Fast forward to Saturday, and a full day of dehumidifiers running in the house, and we were not a happy family.  The bathroom door was warped from the dehumidifier running all night, so it wouldn't close from the inside (it would only close if you pushed on the outside right-hand side while pulling it close).  That meant that not only did my children get a front row seat to bathroom time, now my husband would as well.  Fantastic.  Also, it was about 800 degrees in there.  When I entered the bathroom at 3:30 a.m. to have a pee, I thought it was the greatest thing on earth!  The room was warm, the toilet seat was heated.  It was heaven.  However, at 3:00 p.m., when it was 28 degrees outside and the humidex was over 30, it was hell.  I instantly broke into a sweat upon entering the bathroom, and had to explain to Gracie 243 times why the wall was torn apart, and what that big noisy machine was.  By Tuesday morning when we were ready to leave for our mini-vacation, we were all pretty hot and miserably cranky SOBs.  And deservedly so.

Now, back up to the day before we are ready to leave.  The workers are scheduled to arrive Tuesday morning to begin tearing down walls, ceilings, and tearing up floors.  The girls are scheduled to go to Nancy's for two days, and my sister is taking the dog for us.  Except she forgot to mention that to her husband, who has vetoed that decision at T-20 hours before vacation.  Up goes a desperate plea on Facebook.  Because the workers are going to be at the house, and because Charlie is nervous at the best of time, leaving her at home with strange people isn't an option, unless she is crated for two days... which also isn't an option.  Luckily, at around 5:30 that night, a friend came to our rescue and offered to take Charlie for us.  Disaster #23, averted!

Tuesday morning we delivered the kids to Nancy, and tried to kiss them goodbye.  However, Ella hadn't eaten yet and wanted nothing to do with anything except her breakfast smoothie, and it was pouring down rain which meant kids and parents were converging inside, in a little tiny entrance.  So we basically waved goodbye from the driveway and drove away from the kids for the first time ever without a proper goodbye.

We delivered Charlie to Jessica's house.  When we opened the door, Charlie's new friend, Coco, greeted us in proper doggy fashion.  She sat very quietly at my feet and gave me those big puppy dog eyes and wagged her tail.  She was adorable!  Charlie greeted her new friends by running through the front door (soaking wet, by the way), straight into the kitchen, back down the hall, jumping up on Jessica, spinning around the entrance three or four times, back into the kitchen, sliding into a wall, growling at Coco, jumping over an invisible fence, and crash landing at my feet where I finally got a hold of her collar and settled her down.  "Hello, Coco and Jessica. Have fun, and good luck with Charlie!"  And we high-tailed it out of there before they could change their minds! (For the record, Charlie apparently did pretty good with her new friends, thank goodness!)

We were finally on the road to the hotel, when the heavens opened.  I'm talking torrential down pouring, with lots of wind.  We had already decided to take our time on the drive and had planned on taking the Number 1, and I must say I was awfully glad we weren't on the highway in that weather! 

We arrived at the hotel around 11:30 a.m., and our room was available (yay!)  We headed up and got settled in and decided that after a quick little power nap, we were heading out to get some poutine!

It's a King-Size bed, hurray!

The hotel room. 

Bacon and mushroom poutine.  Delicious!

We came back to the room and planned the rest of the day.  We were going to have a little rest, then head for supper.  The Maxwell's Plum (right across from the hotel) had a really good deal on wings after 10 p.m., and over 60 beers to choose from, so we were going to head there as well.  We ended up napping all afternoon, heading to supper around 5:30, and then coming back to the room to relax again.  Around 9:00 Danny said he wasn't going to make it much longer, so we headed out to pay double for the wings, and we were in bed asleep by 10:30.  Cause we're cool like that.

The next day we had planned on doing some shopping, eating, and catch a movie that night.  We started shopping and were interrupted by a phone call from the babysitter telling us she had forgotten about an appointment that she had scheduled that evening and wondering whether someone could take the girls so she could go to her appointment.  Of course, panic set in, and I called my sister who told me she was working.  She told me that my parents were on their way down, and I called them.  Of course, they would pick up the girls!  After a few stressful minutes, I called the babysitter back and told her it was all looked after.  A few hours later, I get some weird messages from my mom wondering why the babysitter had given them all the bags for the girls, and wondering when they were supposed to take the girls back to her, since Nancy hadn't told them.  I couldn't get a hold of the sitter, so I sent my mom back over there, who discovered that Nancy had assumed that my parents would just keep the girls, since they were here.  The problem with that assumption is that we had suffered a massive leak in our guest room, which was now torn apart, and our house was about 10,000 degrees, since the restoration people had set up giant heaters to dry out the walls.  After texts, and phone calls, and a major cursing tantrum, everything was worked out, and it was decided my parents would keep the girls after all.

The rest of the time at the hotel was pretty uneventful (thank God!).  The next day (today) we decided to meet my parents for lunch in Dartmouth Crossing to celebrate my birthday.  I believe my exact words to my mother were "but you don't know Dartmouth Crossing" to which she replied, "yes I do."

I got a text from her at 11:30 saying "Okay, we're here."  Quickly followed by "Or maybe not.  Is Dartmouth Crossing at Exit 4B?"  I'm sorry, where?  I called my mom, who was wondering why it was called Dartmouth Crossing, if it was so close to Bedford.  Apparently my mom saw a Walmart and though she had arrived.  Apparently my dad had tried to tell her otherwise, but my mom said, "Leslie, just trust me, I know where I'm going."  Once she had to admit she was wrong, we had to figure out where the hell they were and how to get them back on track.  They decided that the easiest thing was to go into Halifax to get turned around (I don't understand that logic either), and we got them back on the highway into Dartmouth.  We explained again the directions and told them to call when they got there.  When they were close, they called to check in.  I said, "you'll see Dartmouth Crossing and you just swing a right and you're right there."  A few minutes later, when they still hadn't arrived, I called again.  My mom answered the phone with "I know, we took the wrong fucking exit again and now we're heading back into Dartmouth."  After getting her calmed down, we realized that they were actually just down by Walmart, but my mom was concerned that all of the "highways" would send her back into Dartmouth or Halifax.  I told them to just pull over somewhere, anywhere! and we would come find them.  We found them in the Costco parking lot and lead them over to Jack Astors where we enjoyed a lovely lunch.  We sent them back on their way to New Brunswick, and apparently they've made it there (although how they ever manage to find their way anyway, I have no idea!).

We headed for home, when the heavens opened up, again, and we drove all the way in the pounding rain.  We picked up the dog, the girls, and we went out for my birthday supper.  And now, here I am, in bed, at 8:00 p.m.  Vacations are overrated.  I am exhausted and, quite frankly, I need a vacation to recover from this vacation!

La Vacation!

Know what today is?  My last day of work before... vacation!!!  I'm a little excited.  Okay, a LOT excited!  I came back to work after having Ella when she was six months old.  She's now 13 months old, and with the exception of a week off in April when I was dealing with a really shitty illness, I've only had an odd day off here and there.  So I'm thrilled to be having 10 1/2 whole days off!

Work has been incredibly busy and hectic for me this summer, so vacation kind of snuck up on me.  And you know what, I liked it that way!  Just this past weekend I said to Danny, "Oh my God!  We're on vacation next week!  What are we going to do?!"  He didn't realize how quickly vacation time had snuck up either, because he had forgotten to put his leave pass in at work!  Good thing he was able to get the time off anyway!

We talked about what our plans should be.  Should we take the kids to Upper Clements... that would be hard with Ella being so young, and being incredibly cranky if she misses her afternoon nap.  Should we take day trips to the south shore, so Ella can sleep in the car?  Then one of us (I can't even remember which one) said, "Wouldn't it be nice to go to Halifax for a couple of days, just the two of us?"  And that was it... the seed of getting-away-without-the-children was planted.  But who would watch the girls?  My parents are off galavanting across the country to see my brother in Petawawa.  Which left us with two options... my sister, and our babysitter Nancy.  I was debating which one to ask first.  If it was my sister, that would mean she would have to pack up and go to our house for two days, since her place isn't exactly set up for two under three!  I played it back and forth in my mind, still not completely convinced that going away for two days was really necessary, especially without the girls!

On Monday, I arrived at Nancy's house and as soon as we got out of the car, she said, "I missed the girls this weekend!  I was going to call and ask to steal them for a sleepover, but I thought that would make me look a little crazy."  Wait, what?  You wanted them for a sleepover?? Could it be... fate?? 

"Well..." I said, "about that."  Nancy's eyes lit up! "Danny and I were thinking about heading to Halifax next week for two nights." "YES!' Nancy said.  She didn't even need me to finish the sentence... that was it, the deal was made!  Before I had time to realize what had just happened, I had committed myself to a three-day/two-night vacation in Halifax... without any kids!

I got back in the car, and endured a slight moment of panic before euphoria set in!  Holy shit, Danny and I were going away.  Without kids.  Not just for one night, but for two!!  Holy shit. Holy Shit. HOLY SHIT!  I was beyond excited!  As soon as I got to work, I texted Danny and told him we were free to have our little get-away.  He responded with equal enthusiasm, "awesome."  Okay, so you have to know Danny to know that's pretty enthusiastic of him!

I started looking up hotels and quickly realized that not only were we getting away for a couple of days, we were going to pay a month's mortgage to do it.  Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.  Oh well, it's the first time in nearly three years that we've been away, so we might as well splurge (though we are taking donations, if anybody is interested!).

I know exactly how the two days are going to play out.  We're going to drop the kids off at Nancy's next Tuesday.  They will completely ignore us as we try to give goodbye hugs and kisses, because let's be honest... they wont even know we're gone!  We'll drive to Halifax, have lunch somewhere amazing (probably the poutinerie... do you know they sell poutine smothered in bacon!!!!!), check into the hotel, and collapse onto our king-size bed and marvel at the space and silence in the room. Then we'll probably fall asleep and waste the rest of the evening dreaming about our kids and the life we left behind.

The next morning we'll sleep in.  Well, I wont exactly sleep in, but there's no way in hell I'm getting up at 5:30!  But knowing my mommy-trained body, I will wake up by 7:00 at the latest, where I will toss and turn until finally deciding to wake Danny up around 8:30 or 9:00, to which he'll exclaim "Sammy, we're supposed to be sleeping in!!"   My only plans for our two days is to get out and enjoy the sun, and eat.  I love food.  I love food so much, I could probably spend the whole two days bouncing from restaurant to restaurant, until I've tried a little bit of everything.  We might see a movie.  Oooh... maybe even a late show!  Maybe we'll even stay out until midnight... or later!!  The possibilities are endless!

And when the two days are over, we will drive home and stop at Nancy's to pick up the girls.  They will greet us like they always do... Gracie will run across the lawn with her arms wide open screaming "Mommy!!  Daddy!" and Ella will point and scream as loud as she can "Da-da-da-da-da-da!!"  We'll hug them and Gracie will tell us how much she missed us.  We'll present them with the presents that we surely are going to buy for them, then we'll head home.  Gracie and Ella will get in a screaming match over a toy, Charlie will pee on the floor with excitement, Ella will dump her supper on the floor, Gracie will knock over her milk at least twice during supper, Ella will have a gigantic poop that seeps up to her ears, Gracie will say "mommy" at least 300 times, Ella will trip over her own feet no less than a dozen times, and Gracie will cry when it's time for bed.  There will be no doubt in our minds that our vacation is over and we're back to our normal lives... but, ahh, what a sweet little life it is!

A Public Embarrassment...

Well we've finally reached that age... the age where Gracie embarrasses us in public.  I knew it was coming, but I wasn't prepared.  It seemed like it came out of nowhere!  One day she was our sweet little girl, the one who strangers smiled at and "ooohed" and "awwwed" over.  The next day, strangers looked at us with sympathy, and a little twinkle in their eye because they wanted to laugh out loud at us, but knew that they shouldn't!

Looking back, I guess I should have seen the signs.  It probably started the day I picked her up at Nancy's... I picked her up to give her a big hug and she farted.  She laughed and laughed, and said "Mommy, I farted on your arm!"  I told her that was gross, so she squeezed out another one, twice as loud!  "I farted, I farted, and pee-ewww!  That stinks!"  The other parents all giggled.

Last week we were out for supper and while we were waiting for our food, an older lady with gray hair sat at a table behind us.  Gracie stared at her for a while and then turned around and whispered something.  I couldn't make out what she said so I asked her to speak up (my mistake!).  "That lady's a witch mommy!  She's a witch!  A witch!  A WITCH!!!"  The lady just stared at us, and I stared at Gracie with my mouth open.  Danny looked at me and said "What did she say?"  Gracie heard him ask, so she repeated herself, loudly.  I told Gracie, "That's not a witch, it's just a lady." but she wouldn't believe me!

Last night we went swimming with Gracie's bestest friend, Jayden.  Jayden is so sweet and loving, and always greets Gracie so excitedly.  Gracie just covers her face and pretends Jayden doesn't exist.  That's embarrassing enough for me!  But when we were in the pool, Gracie and Jayden were throwing a ball back and forth.  Ella was sitting on the edge of the pool with Jayden's mom, and screeched at Gracie.  So Gracie yelled at her, "Ella, you're such a shithead!"  Jayden's mom looked more than a little surprised by the language, and I just shook my head and took Gracie aside for a little discussion about name calling (and swearing).  I swear, we don't teach her to curse like that, she just picks it up from her horrible mother and spits it back out when we least expect it!

A little while later I noticed Gracie hunched over in the shallow end of the pool.  "What are you doing, Gracie?" I asked.  "Playing with my bird!" Not the answer I was expecting.  And yet, loud enough for lots of people to hear!  And yes, ladies and gentleman, we use "bird" instead of "vagina" because vagina is just not a word I want to hear come out of my toddler's mouth.  Let the scarring and therapy sessions begin! 

So apparenly my daughter has no filter.  At least that's what I've started to learn over the past couple of weeks.  Whatever is on her mind, comes out of her mouth.  I have to be prepared for this from now on... as she learns more words and becomes more aware of people around her, I'm sure the things she screams will only become more embarrassing.  I plan to keep a record of everything she says that embarrasses me so that when she's a teenager, I can use them on her!  I can't wait til I drop her off at a friend's house and she turns to me and say, "Mom.  What are you doing?" And I can just imagine the expression on her face when I yell back, "Playing with my bird!"

My Body is a Wonderland

After having two kids in less than two years, I have discovered that my body is a wonderland.  Your body can do amazing things, like carry and birth a baby!  Your organs move out of the way to make room for growing a baby, your blood volume increases to support the new life, your body knows exactly what to do to get the baby out.  It truly is a wonderland!

Now that it's been over a year since I've had Ella, and two-and-a-half since Gracie, know what else my body is?  A wasteland.  Okay, maybe not quite as bad as a wasteland... but it sure aint all wonderful!

After I had Gracie, my body pretty much returned to normal pretty quickly (yeah, yeah - haters gon' hate!).  But apparently baby number two made it a little more difficult for things to go back.  The first time my body was all like "Whoa, that was neat! Now, back at it!"   The second time, it was more like "Okay, you did it to me again.  Screw you." 

The first thing I noticed was the fact that my boobs just didn't get quite as big as they did with Gracie.  If there's a bonus to being pregnant, it's the ginormous ta-tas that come with it.  But alas, my boobies boycotted and refused to grow to their potential.  Know what else they did?  After I finished using them for their nutritional purpose, they got shy and went away.  Far, far away.  Like miniscule little 12-year old boobies.  Like double-A, training bra boobies.  What the hell body?!

Also, my hair fell out.  Of course, this is normal for most ladies post-baby.  Your hair stops falling out while you're pregnant, and then feels the need to catch up with all the non-falling-out it did during those 9-10 months and you start shedding like a dog in the spring.  I'm talking huge handfuls of hair.  I'm talking pretty sure I was going to end up bald handfuls of hair.  I'm talking 5 months of excessive shedding.  You know what all that shedding leads to? A clogged bathtub, for starters.  But it also leads to new hairs growing in... or in my case, growing out.  Straight out.  All the way around my face.  My  new "bangs" stood straight out from my face like I was wearing that crown the Statue of Liberty wears.  It took them three months to grow long enough to weigh themselves down into normal hair position, and another two months after that before they grew long enough that I could pin them out of my face.  Yep, that hair falling out... it's beautiful.

This one is for all you women (and men, really) who have never been pregnant.  If there is one thing you should never, ever take for granted, it's the ability to not pee your pants whenever you sneeze, laugh, cough, or do jumping jacks.  That's right ladies and gentleman, coughing makes me pee in my panties.  I can point out a mother a mile away, purely by the fact that while she's standing in the grocery aisle coughing, her legs are crossed.  Also, many of the exercises that are supposed to get you back into pre-baby shape involve a lot of bouncing.  Bouncing equals peeing in my panties.  It didn't happen after Gracie, so if you have one kid and you're pointing and laughing... wait for it!  You'll wet yourself after that second kid beats the crap out of your bladder too!

Did you know that having a baby involves your stomach muscles stretching to the point where you look like you swallowed a whole watermelon?  Did you know that after that baby comes out your tummy retains its familiarity with the watermelon shape?  Did you know that eating the tiniest amount of food now makes me look five months pregnant?  It's my post-baby baby belly.  We call them food babies.  I can be having the skinniest day, where I wear my sexiest clingiest dress (just kidding, I don't own one), and I look fantabulous.  And then I put food in my stomach and my belly goes "ooh, I know how to make room for that, let me grow outwards 6 inches!"  It's very nice of my belly to make extra room... but it's really too bad my pants dont make the same consideration!  Also, as a side note:  Once you are of child-bearing age, it seems to be a habit of people to watch your middle for any sign of a baby bump (hello, poor Kate Middleton!).  I see you there, pointing and whispering "is that a baby in there?"  NOPE! I just ate a cheeseburger people!

Now here's the part where I say, "but it's all worth it, because I have two beautiful girls who have made all the difference in my world!" Yeah, yeah.  That's all true.  But I'm not going to lie, there are days when the girls are acting like toddlers act, screaming, and crying, and just being little shitheads, and I can't help but think, "I pee my pants, for this?!"

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?!?  :)