Monday, January 31, 2011


There's this really disturbing pattern that keeps happening in my life.

I pick up N from her father's house, and she's sick. I take her home, take care of her, and by the time she leaves my house, she is well. The next week she is with her father, and when I pick her up that Sunday - she's sick.

It's been happening since last winter. It's so frustrating that last night, when she had a fever of 103 and she was holding her head and her body was so hot I could feel heat coming off of her, all I could do as I made dinner was CRY while Joe wet washcloths and got her comfortable on the couch.

And apparently I'm the "less responsible parent."

*I know that some of you out of my millions of readers know my ex, and I really don't want to make anyone uncomfortable or dwell on this crap, so I am really going to keep it to a minimum.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

You Snow Crazy!

See, this is how crazy I have been driven by this weather and cabin fever.

I am dressing THE DOG in THE GIRL's outgrown clothes. She doesn't like it, by the way.

I have also spent the last twenty minutes or so sliding around my kitchen floor in my slippers, and dancing for the dog. Running Man, check.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Sunshine, Beaches, PLEASE?

Confession: I am terrified of the snowblower in the garage. That is why I'm this close to going out and shoveling, rather than going out and snowblowing. What I SHOULD do is neither, since the snow is Joe's job and the leaves are my job.

(Funny story - last fall I was out raking the yard, and this couple around my age with a tiny little baby in a sling comes walking down the street. I stop raking to let them pass - we rake everything into the street and the leaf-sucker-upper trucks come by and get 'em, and the wife asks, "Where is your husband?" And so I answer, "Oh, he's lying on the couch taking a nap." She gasps, and the husband gasps, with this look on his face that suggested he would be mourning for the immediate-future death of said husband. Joe and I laughed about this later.)

I completely forgot the rest of whatever I was going to post.

I think a good birthday present for me would be no more winter.

Monday, January 24, 2011

The Quiet

For anyone who doesn't know, my ex and I have a somewhat odd custody schedule for the time being. We have a week by week stretch where one of us has her. The parent who does not have her travels to the other parent's city on Sunday and picks her up for the week.

Last week was my week. We also had Stevie over the weekend (we get to see him a whopping 5 days a month). So this morning I wake up at almost 9am in complete silence. No yelling, no Legos underfoot, no begging to watch video games. No tattletales. SILENCE.

It's glorious...but hard at the same time. Any one of you with kids can imagine how difficult it is to pass your child on to their other parent for an entire week. It's heartbreaking, but at the same time, these are my weeks to clean the house and do office stuff and watch R-rated movies IN THE DAY TIME.

And we've been starting this thing where on every other Sunday, we go out to dinner after Sean picks up Norah. By that time, Stevie is with his mom. So last night we went to our favorite Mexican restaurant, ate until I grew a food baby, and got serenaded by mariachis.

Win. It's a bittersweet win, with only each other to share it.

But I won't think about how much the kids would have loved hearing "La Bamba."

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Balls In My Face

We are officially the only MetLife presence in Berks County. We opened an office in a realty building less than a mile from home (thank you recession for cheap rent!), and we've found so far that we can - obviously -work much more efficiently from there than we can from home. Even with a little "helper," to my deep pleasure.

And because that helper was indeed SO helpful this past week, we decided to take her and Stevie to a new playplace at The Works called Ballocity. The Works is a Dave and Busters-esque place here in Wyomissing. What I didn't realize was that is wasn't really going to be an open place, but rather a hellish labyrinth of crawly tunnels, with a ball pit in the middle of it instead of a minotaur.

I'd rather have the minotaur, I think.

After ten minutes of crawling around with the kids, I had a sweat mustache and my internal temperature had to be at least 5000 degrees. Plus, my hips 'n' butt got stuck between two rollers. And to calm Norah down (it was really quite overwhelming in there, I witnessed a 5-year-old take down his same aged brother/friend/whatsoever by the neck and pull him through a tube like something out of one of my beloved horror movies), I was able to placate her by gathering a tote bag full of balls, giving it to them so them could load them into one of the cannons on the upper levels and shoot them at me while I stood in the middle of the ball pit.

Those soft, squishy balls...HURT. And because I was a semi-willing target, ALL of the other children up there also decided to take aim at me. The end result was me staggering out with a soaked scalp and mascara raccoon eyes desperately looking for Joe.

The things we do for our kids.

Upon returning to Exeter, I insisted we stop for a bottle of wine and some hair dye. The wine worked great, the hair dye didn't so much. You can't tell I did anything with it. But I did enjoy the wine.

I also got to spend some surprising quality time with Stevie - I put in a Netflix movie called Micmacs (a Jeunet film) and watched it. He watched it with me, his very first French film.

And I think, just maybe he enjoyed it.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Trying Again

I lost my steam. I totally admit it.

That's pretty embarrassing, considering that when I was a different me, I blogged constantly. As in all-the-friggin'-time.

So, let's pretend that I'm the type of person that would, hypothetically (of course), make say...a New Year's resolution.* Now let's pretend that my resolution was about blogging, and just getting back to the things I used to do before I got a kid, and a stepkid, and hell - even a dog.

Let's pretend that, and see how it goes.

*I'm not, but still.