Sorry, Wrong Number (7/8/06)

Good afternoon, everyone! And Happy Fourth Birthday to Eli! To reference a blog from earlier in the week, the name mispronunciation happened yet again! We went to Target this morning to pick up Eli's birthday cake. $20 was a small price to pay when I saw the joy on his face when he saw Bob the Builder and Muck on his cake! He's probably going to be on a sugar high until sometime on Monday. In our house, you get to do whatever you want on your birthday. That usually translates into food. So far, Eli has had a candy bar, then we went to Scooter's where he enjoyed a brownie pop and a chocolate milk, and then to Target to pick up his chocolate cake. You can definitely tell he's my son, can't you?!

But I digress. While we were at Target, I ordered the cupcakes for Eli's party next weekend, and I wrote on the order form myself, "Happy Birthday, Eli!" She looked confused since it's a construction/builder theme and said, "You want it to say, 'Happy Birthday Elly?'" Oh, sweet Jesus! "NO! It's Eli." She still looked confused. The woman is Russian, which is fine, but if you're going to work someplace that requires you to spell, you should make sure you're familiar with the English language. I wouldn't attempt to go to Russia and get a job in a bakery attempting to spell some Russian kid's name on a cake!

Anyway, I'm relying on sugar myself today so I can wake up a little bit. Georgia woke up about 4:00 this morning screaming like a banshee, so we were up until 6:00. I caught an infomercial on some exercise machine that looked like it was built for a contortionist. I was back in bed about 6:00, but the alarm went off at 6:30 because Eric wanted to get up early and get Eli's sandbox ready (his big birthday present) before he woke up. It took me 30 minutes to get Eric out of bed. Then, just when I dozed off again, he came in at 7:30 and woke me up to come and look at the sandbox. Grrrr! I think I muttered something unpleasant along with a couple of curses and went back to sleep for about 15 minutes until both kids woke up. *sigh*

After I posted my blog yesterday morning, I couldn't believe the number of hits I received. I think it was because the word "sexual" was in the title. I should try that every day! I also had some interesting run-ins with people yesterday. I still can't decide if I'm the one who's crazy or if it's just everyone else.

At Gymboree, there was a mom (we'll call her Jill) with her two kids. I hadn't seen her in a couple of weeks. First, I should explain that it's a Family Gymboree class, so it's open to kids who are mobile up to age 5. Occasionally, one particular family comes who has four children - I think they are all girls - who look to be 5, 4, 2, and under 1. Anyway, Jill came up to me and asked if that family had been there the last couple of weeks and I said no. She said that's the reason she hadn't come back. Apparently, she thought those kids were too wild. (I thought they acted normal for their ages.) She said she feared for her child's safety. Oh, Lord! I love these kinds of moms. They don't take their children to the park or a Gymboree class because they think some ax-wielding five-year-old is going to take them out? Come on!! I just smiled and nodded. I said, "Oh, I didn't think they were that bad." At that point, she pursed her lips and walked away. I'm sure she'll have fun going to another Gymboree class and talking about me.

On the way out of class, I was putting the kids in the car, which takes me a while. Before I buckle the kids in, I open the door and start the car so it can cool off. That's one of my irrational fears - that if I don't start the car first and turn on the AC, the kids will die of heat stroke in the time that it takes me to buckle them in and run around to the driver's side. Anyway, I had Georgia's door open, and was strapping her in, when some old woman, I'm guessing about 80 with bright pink lipstick, started trying to shove the door shut (with me standing between the door and the car), screaming, "Excuse me!" Apparently, she was trying to get into the gold Mercedes parked next to me. I said, "Hold on a minute." She kept shoving the door at me. I looked at her and said, "Lady, you're going to have to wait until I get my daughter strapped in!" Then, she put her hand on my door to make sure it wouldn't open all the way and touch her car. I just rolled my eyes. I wasn't that close to her car, but apparently she was scared I was going to bash it with my door, which I certainly wanted to at that point, but luckily I was exhibiting self-control.

Then, old woman got in her car when I went around to strap Eli in. He asked, "Who was that?" I responded, "Some annoying, impatient old woman." "Okay," he said. I'm sure he'll now be repeating that at pre-school. Yay.

The rest of the day went fairly smoothly until the kids started playing with the phones. We have two cordless phones. Georgia just likes to press buttons willy-nilly, and Eli likes to pretend he's calling Bob the Builder and Wendy.

About 5:00 yesterday, I got a call from a number I didn't recognize, but I answered it because I thought it might be someone RSVPing to Heather's shower. When I answered the phone, a man said, "This is Joe Blevins," then nothing. I said, "Okie dokie." He said, "You just called me." I assured him that I did not call him, and then he proceeded to argue with me. I love it when people think I'm crazy, and apparently this freakshow thought I was a complete basketcase. He said if I didn't call him then someone from my number did. I started to say, "Sir, I can assure you that . . . " Then I caught site of Georgia with a huge grin on her face. Oh, crap! So, I just said, "The only people here are me and my two small children, so I don't know who would have called you." (That was somewhat true.) He finally hung up, and I put both phones where Georgia couldn't reach them.

Later in the evening, however, Eli got a hold of the phone and was attempting to call Bob and Wendy. He was holding the phone, and Eric was close enough to hear there was actually someone on the other end - a woman shouting, "Hello!" Oh, double crap! Eric kindly explained that his son was pressing buttons, yada, yada. Luckily, the lady was nice and didn't seem to mind that she apparently has the same phone number as Bob and Wendy.

Unfortunately, Eli is tall enough to reach anything, so we really have no place to hide the phone where he can't get it. So, if any of you see my number on caller ID and hear Eli asking to speak to Bob or Lofty, or hear a baby chewing on the phone, I hope you decide to find it adorable and don't report me as an obscene caller.

Caffiene Addiction (7/6/06)

Hello! My name is Neila, and I am a coffee addict! Not only do I proudly admit my addiction, but I am continuously looking for someone to provide me with an IV drip of coffee. Too bad they don't sell that at the local Scooter's!

Today, blogthatmommy.com will enter the underworld of addiction. What causes it? Hmmm . . perhaps being a mom? Although, I started drinking coffee at the age of 8. Everyone drank coffee in my house, and my father was a firefighter, so I spent a lot of time at the fire station where the guys were guzzling it down. It just seemed natural - the lifeblood in my veins, if you will. So, here it is 25 years later, and I'm worse off than ever. But the studies I have read on caffeine addiction have not been convincing enough to get me to quit, so far. In fact, the only times I have laid off the coffee were during both pregnancies. Luckily, my body helped me by developing an aversion to coffee while I was pregnant, so it wasn't hard at the time. The hard part was the pounding headaches and frayed nerves of the withdrawal! I can't imagine that heroin withdrawal would be any worse!

I need coffee every day just to function, but on the days I'm tired (like today), it really helps! Yesterday, I didn't think we had a lot to do, but as always, the second I think that, the day gets so busy I can barely breathe. Last night, I headed over to Amy's house to get things ready for Heather's shower on Sunday. We made mints and goodie bags, worked on the games, and drank wine. It was fabulous! Then when I got home about 10:00, Eric said, "Did you forget you were supposed to make cookies for pre-school tomorrow?" Oh, double sh#^! So, I was up last night at 11:00 making cookies. After I finished that, I had work to do on the computer, so it was after midnight when I went to bed. It seemed like I barely closed my eyes when the alarm was going off bright and early this morning.

Then, we had to drag Eli out of bed and wrestle him into his clothes. Pre-school mornings are always fun because Eli never wants to get dressed or eat breakfast, so after I manage to get clothes on him, I have to force feed him, then try to get Georgia ready so we can leave on time. Luckily, I managed to lift Eli's mood on the way to pre-school by popping in his favorite Laurie Berkner CD. (http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00004S36S/sr=8-2/qid=1152204006/ref=sr_1_2/...)

Now, each morning, I only have so long to get coffee into my body. I have to have caffeine in my system no later than 10:00 or the pounding headache starts. However, the earlier, the better! So, I have my handy dandy Starbucks frappucinos in the fridge for mornings when I'm rushing out the door and don't have time to make coffee. This way, I can just grab one and suck it down in the car on the way to pre-school. This clears my head a little bit, which sometimes is not a good thing, because then I start to remember things I forgot to do before we left the house.
For example, we're supposed to slather our kids down with sunscreen before we send them of to pre-school. Well, double crap, I forgot to do that, and today they're having a picnic lunch, so I'm sure they'll be outside all day. Luckily, being the supermom that I am, I had sunscreen in Eli's backpack, so I whipped it open once we got inside. Imagine me trying to slather it on him, while Georgia is making a beeline down the hall in an early morning escape. And I wonder why all the other moms look at me like I'm a complete whackadoo!

Once I dropped Eli off, I remembered that I forgot to leave $2 for the picnic lunch. Yes, they wanted a $2 donation for the lunch because apparently, the $240 I paid them for the month isn't enough to cover a hot dog and kool-aid! Grrr!!! Hopefully, they'll feed him anyway, and I can pay them when I pick him up.

So, after I dropped him off, it was off to Scooter's to get my real coffee, and to visit with my friend, Aaron, who works there. My phone rang as soon as I pulled in so I had to pull over and talk before I could go get my coffee. Not two minutes later, here comes Aaron to my car. "What do you think this is - a Sonic?! We don't come to you!!!" They love me at the Scooter's! In fact, Eric and I have a list of ongoing true riddles about Scooter's. The question is "How do you know you go to Scooter's too much?" Here are some of the answers:

* When you pull up, and the employees look at their watch and tell you you're late.
* When the employees joke that you're putting them through college.
* When they have you come in and make your own drink (yes, I'm serious).
* When the barista becomes one of your best friends.
* When you start telling the new employee how to make a drink.
* When I make Aaron hold my baby so I can drink my coffee.
* When your son builds his own "Scooter's" on his Lego table at home.

Needless to say, after a four-shot latte, I feel much better! And I had the energy to come home and vacuum, so it's a win-win situation. The only difficulty is that I'm trying desperately to lose weight before the wedding, so my foo-foo coffees don't really fit into the mix. Unfortunately, I've had to cut waaay down and start making more coffee at home. I've been doing so well lately, that when I stepped on the scale yesterday, I was sure I had lost weight. . . and then I discovered I had gained three pounds. Some of the words I had for that damn scale were not pretty.

I'm now off to put this caffeine high to good use and do some laundry and housework before I start to calm down. I wish you all great coffee, lots of foam and extra shots. Cheers!

You say tomato, I say . . . (7/5/06)

With a name like Neila, you would think I would be used to mispronunciations by now. Yet, it never ceases to amaze me some of the things that people come up with. I get it really bad since my last name is Forssberg. Before I was married, and I was just Neila Young, at least people could get one name right, but over the last 12 years, I've grown increasingly used to people calling me Nellie Frosting.

We went to a cookout the other night at one of our neighbor's homes. I think we had previously met 90 percent of the people in attendance. Sure enough, a lady came up to me and said, "Hiiii! Nikka, right?" Oh, Sweet Lord! "No. It's Neila." She smiled, "Oh, that's right. I knew it was something with an N."

I think I'm going to start doing this to people. The next time I see someone named Jennifer, I'm going to say, "Hiiii! Jacinda, right?" How do you think people would react, then?

Anyway, for the most part, it doesn't surprise me when my name gets mispronounced. I just find it fascinating when people come up with new ways to say it. I think all the standard mispronunciations have been covered - Nila, Neilya, Nella, Neelee, Nellie, and Nina are the most popular. But when someone comes up with something new, I do have to stop and admire their creativity.

All this being said, when I got pregnant for the first time, my one goal was to pick something that people couldn't screw up. I set out on that quest, and quickly became amazed at how difficult it actually was. I didn't want to pick a name that my child would have to spell to everyone for the rest of his life, but I also didn't want to pick something that 50 other kids in his class would be named. So, we chose Eli. At the time, it wasn't very popular. There were a few Eli's around, but not many. Of course, that has since changed because the second I signed the birth certificate, everyone all of a sudden decided Eli was the perfect name for their new bundle of joy. With everyone else, however, it is short for Elijah, so we're at least unique in the fact that Eli is Eli.

After he was born, I rapidly discovered that people can screw up any name you give them. One of the first times was when we were in a restaurant. When they asked for a first name, I gave them Eli because it's much easier than Neila. When I give my first name, the exchange usually goes something like this:

"Your first name, please?"
"Neila."
"What?"
"Neila!"
"How do you spell that?"
"N-E-I-L-A"
"M-I- What?"

And at that point, I usually want to bash them over the head with my coffee mug.

When the time came to call Eli's name over the loud speaker, I heard, "Elly . . . Elly." I think they had to say it about five times before I realized they meant us. I looked at Eric and said, "You have GOT to be f*^#ing kidding me!" He, of course, finds it amusing that I get so frustrated at these things. That's because he grew up with the name Eric. He has not had to deal with these issues for 30 years!

After awhile, I started to accept the fact that, sadly, people were going to massacre Eli's name, too. When I took him to his dentist, the assistant came out to the waiting room and called, "Elly!" Oh for Christ's sake! I have since corrected them 100 times. Yet, every time they called to remind me of my "daughter Elly's" appointment, I just about lost it. The last time they did that, I snapped, and I think I almost made the girl cry. I was so upset that I don't quite remember what I said, but I think I accused her of not being able to read. We have now changed to a different dentist.

The only reason this is all in my head now, is because my neighbor came up to me the other day and asked again what my little boy's name was. Before I could answer, she said, "It's Elee, right?" I said "No." (That's a new one.) "It's Eli." "Oh, that's right," she said, "I always want to say Elee." Not 10 minutes later, I overheard her talking to her husband, saying. "I thought the boy's name was Eli, but it's Elee." Ugh!! I truly think these people are trying to drive me crazy!

The second time I got pregnant, I thought, here is my chance! I can once again attempt to pick a name that people won't screw up! After much debate, and researching every human name ever used, we chose Georgia. This was no easy task. The two runners-up were Sarah and Grace. Both difficult names to mess up, but also waaay too high on the popularity scale. However, I was recently told by the kids' Gymboree teacher that she's surprised how popular the name Georgia is suddenly becoming. *sigh* Of course, it is.

Anyway, it's not that hard, right? It's the name of a state, for crying out loud! As far as mispronunciations go, we're doing okay so far. Since her name is Georgia Grace, the worst I seem to get are people who call her Grace. That, I can handle. The one thing I didn't factor in was everyone's freaky-ass spellings for normal names. When I ordered her birthday cake, and said I wanted "Happy Birthday, Georgia," I saw the woman start to write on her pad, "J - O -," and my eyes rolled heavenward.

Delayed mail . . . and more about The Wiggles (7/4/06)

I have received so much flack for the comment I made about Anthony, the blue Wiggle, being a hottie. Apparently my friends find this great fodder for teasing me and making comments. Obviously, they haven't seen The Wiggles Cold Spaghetti Western with Anthony in his cowboy hat. Hmmmmmm . . . (See above photo. Remember, Anthony is the blue Wiggle.)But I digress, I would just like to point out that I am not the only one.

I located an article in the Sydney Morning Herald (http://www.smh.com.au/news/people/women-go-wild-for-wiggles/2005/07/10/1120934117339.html?oneclick=true). To summarize, the article states how the Wiggles have become unlikely sex symbols, and have been gaining more fervent fans in us American moms. There are a growing number of sexually suggestive letters and comments to the Wiggles, which they have politely ignored. I still say they have the backstage groupies, but whatever.

Anyway, that is proof that there are many moms out there having more than PG-13-related fantasies about Anthony Field. In fact, any mom who watches children's programming on a regular basis seems to have a crush of her own, as I am finding out. Eric's cousin, for example, sent me an e-mail saying she completely understands as she has a thing for Joe of Blue's Clues fame. She said she's constantly trying to get her children to watch less Dora and more Blue. You go, sister!

So, come on ladies, admit it to yourself. Which children's performer do you secretly pine over?

In other news, I am going to be enjoying my Fourth of July by doing (hopefully) nothing but cook out. We're contemplating taking the kids to see fireworks, but since it rained an inch last night, the ground is muddy, and I don't relish the idea of bathing wet, muddy kids after sitting on a blanket for a couple of hours. I have a feeling Georgie Porgie will be asleep by that time anyway. We shall see.

It's already been a full day, and it's only 10:00 am. I've already dealt with the bed-wetting yet again. (I'm still waiting on suggestions, people!) I have a star chart up on Eli's door, and he gets a star every morning that he has dry pants. He got a star yesterday morning (Yay!), but not this morning (Boo!). So, we've already stripped his sheets and bathed him. And then Georgia decided to help, too. After having a full bottle of milk, she spit up all over my bed. Now I have to strip those sheets too since I don't enjoy sleeping with the smell of sour milk. *sigh*

Hopefully, nothing dramatic happens the rest of the day. But, as my husband will tell you, I have a knack for making my own drama. I know I am obsessive-compulsive. I will just say that right off. I seem to pick up on a seemingly minor occurrence and dwell on it. This week, it was our mail. We get mail every single day. Sometimes it's nothing but junk mail, but it's mail nonetheless.

Saturday, I thought it was odd that there was no mail - not one ad, not one flyer - nothing. A few years ago, we didn't receive mail for a few days, and discovered our mail had been inadvertently stopped and everything was being returned to sender. So, one day without mail, and I was certain that's what was happening again. Eric wasn't nearly as concerned as I was. "Oh, we probably just didn't get anything. Don't worry about it." Yeah, whatever.

Monday, I was ready. I waited, and waited. I could easily monitor if the mail had come because the lady across the street had an envelope on her mail box, so all I had to do was look out to see if it had been picked up yet. Around 1:00, I took the kids to run errands. When we got back about 3:00, her envelope was gone, so I checked our mailbox. No mail! I was on the phone with the post office before I even put the groceries away. I called three different numbers before I actually reached a live person. Apparently, they have a script now because you can tell they're reading, and they profusely apologize three times before they even know what the problem is. I think this reduces the number of people who yell at them.

I explained the problem, and the woman took my information and said someone would get back to me within one business day (tomorrow). I was somewhat appeased for the moment, so I told myself to calm down and try not to dwell on it over the holiday. I put the groceries away, put Georgia down for a nap, and made dinner. Then, about 5:00, I don't know what possessed me, but I decided to look in the mailbox just one more time. Lo and behold, there was mail! Oh crap.

On one hand, I was quite pleased (except for the fact that we got the Visa bill and my husband saw how much I charged on my Amazon card last month). But on the other hand, I was annoyed because it just proved my husband's allegations - I am a complete lunatic.

I am now going to enjoy my day and try very hard to control my OCD. Hopefully today, nothing will spur one of my harebrained ideas. But maybe tomorrow . . .

Bad Girls! (7/3/06)

Happy Monday, everyone! I hope everyone is enjoying a long holiday weekend! My husband went into work today, so my weekend got cut in half. Today, we're running our usual errands. As soon as Eli gets up, we're off to Aldi and Wal-Mart. I think we could go there every day of the week. It seems like we always need something!

You know how you get a song stuck in your head, and you just can't get it out no matter what you do? When you're a mom, that happens annoyingly often with children's songs. I took the kids to Gymboree on Friday and ever since, I have had the Gymbo song stuck in my head. For those of you unfamiliar with Gymboree, Gymbo is a stuffed clown, and you sing a song when they bring him out. When I first heard this one, it really made me laugh, and I think all you Gen-Xers like myself will appreciate it.

Everyone knows the song, "We Will Rock You." Come on, get it going in your head. Boom, boom, clap. Boom, boom, clap.

"We want, we want Gymbo!
(gymbo)
We want, we want Gymbo!
(gymbo)
Gymbo is a blue clown, red clown, yellow clown,
Gymbo is a clown who never lets you down.
He's got a smile on his face;
he rocks this place,
Giving you kisses all over your face.
We want, we want Gymbo!
Who? Gymbo!!"

I had to share. I hope to God I hear something else soon to replace that in my head. With my luck, it will be replaced with something by Barney . . . I would rather have Gymbo!

After my long day on Friday, I enjoyed a rare girls' night out. I was invited to a jewelry party, to which I drug Amy along with me. We quickly discovered that we wouldn't be spending $89 for a necklace anytime soon, so we didn't stay long. Let's see - $89 for a week's worth of groceries, or $89 for a necklace. Hmmmm . . .

Afterward, our plan was to go see The Devil Wears Prada. Amy had been talking about nothing else for two days, and desperately wanted to see that movie, because like me, she doesn't get to the movies that often.

When we got to the theater on Friday night, disaster struck! Sold out. Double crap. Not a problem. I quickly told Amy to just buy tickets to something else. Apparently, she did not get my telepathic message, because I was thinking we would just buy tickets to another movie, and then slip into the movie we really wanted to see, something I did a lot as a teenager.

This was a plan, however, that I did not want to share with the 100 other people buying tickets, so I listened to Amy loudly talking about how sad she was, and that she really didn't want to see Click. My constant nudges and whispers of, "Amy, shush!" didn't seem to calm her down. When we were walking in, I said, "You're not getting it." She just looked at me, then whipped out her cell phone and called her husband to tell him how sad she was.

Finally, I just yelled, "AMY!" So, she hung up the phone, and said, "What?" I said, "You do realize we're going to see The Devil Wears Prada, right?" She just gave me a blank stare. Apparently, she lacks that aspect of criminal thinking, which is probably a good thing.

"But it's sold out," she said. "Yes," I said, "and that's why we bought a ticket to something else, but then we'll just go into the other theater."

I have never seen a look of such panic wash over someone's face. "What? No. No! I'm not doing that! We can't do that!" Oh, you want to bet? I thought to myself. Amy had talked about nothing else but seeing that movie for two days, so I was damned if I was going to sit through two hours of Adam Sandler. I just walked to the other theater, and started to walk in.

Hastily grabbing my arm, Amy gave me one last plea. "Neila, we can't! They'll check tickets! We'll get thrown out." I said, "Amy, do you honestly think we're going to get thrown out of the theater by a 16-year-old usher? I don't think so."

"Well, I'm not going in." That was her ultimatum. But, I thought to myself, what will happen if I walk into the theater. Either Amy will follow me or she'll stand out here in the hall by herself. My bet was on her following me. So, off I went. Quickly I heard her behind me, "NEILA! Neila, wait!" But I went in and sat down, and she sat down next to me. Even though she was so nervous that people probably thought she was either carrying a bomb or had a serious cocaine addiction, I was proud of her.

Then she spotted the ushers. I was right - about 16. "Oh my God! They're going to come around and check tickets." Now, I have snuck into movies many times in my life, as I told her, and not once have I seen them bring up the house lights so they could randomly start checking peoples' tickets. I didn't think that was about to happen. I asked Amy, "Didn't you ever sneak into an R-rated movie as a kid?" She looked at me wide-eyed, "NO!"

"Well, I did. How do you think Stacey and I got into see R-rated movies as teenagers. You buy a ticket to something else, and then duck into the movie you want to see." I'm a little embarrassed at how many times I actually did that. But, Amy kept eyeing those ushers until the lights went down. Only then, did she finally breathe a sigh of relief. And after the movie was over, what did she say? "I'm so glad you're bad." *sigh* That's me, the bad influence.

I figure you have to do something naughty occasionally before going back to the life of a responsible mommy!

Shopping with Children (6/30/06)

Don't you just love how you wake up to what you think is going to be a nice relaxing day . . . and then you take your children out in public?

My children are a lot of fun, and I truly enjoy their eccentricities, but other people - well, not so much. I was very excited today by the fact that we didn't have a lot to do. I let the kids sleep in, hoping the extra sleep would put them in a good mood. All we had to do today was go to Gymboree, which is fun, go to the library, go to Kinko's to buy ink for the printer, stop by Wal-Mart for a few groceries, and run by the post office to mail the thank-you notes for Georgia's birthday. Very doable tasks!

When I went in to get Eli up this morning, I whipped the covers off of him only to discover he wet the bed. I know I've mentioned this in previous blogs, but he has been potty-trained since January with no accidents. I'm not sure what has caused the back slide in this last week. I've heard this is normal, but I'm not sure quite how to rectify the situation. I don't want to punish him, but he doesn't seem to care that he's sleeping in a wet bed and that he smells like pee. On the other hand, I care a great deal.

After I got him up and dressed, changed the sheets, started the wet sheets in the laundry, and fed both kids breakfast, we were running a little behind schedule. That's okay, I thought, I can catch up. I would have been happy if we could just make it to the library before Gymboree and we could do the rest afterward.

Just when I thought we were ready to leave, Eli disappeared to go potty. A few minutes later, out he comes naked from the waist down, wearing his pants on his head. That made me laugh so hard I thought I was going to wet my own pants. Once we got his pants on the right end, and I was loading everyone up to go, I smelled poop. I looked at Georgia, and said, "Did you poop?" To which she looked at me smiling really big and replied, "AAAAAAAAA!!!" That's baby for, "You bet your sweet bippy I did."

After changing her, we were rushing to make it to the library before Gymboree. We went in, dropped our stuff in the drop box, and off we went to the Children's Section so Eli could get another Bob the Builder DVD. Disaster struck! All Bob the Builder DVDs were checked out. Apparently, all the parents are stocking up for the holiday weekend when they'll all be home with their kids. Eli was not happy, and to be perfectly honest, not having a Bob the Builder DVD doesn't make my life any easier, either.

We went to go wait in line at the desk because I had a book on hold. When we came into the library, there was no line. In the three minutes it took us to go scan the DVD's and come back, the line was a mile long! I have no freaking clue how a line formed so fast. But, we waited, got our books, and we were out of there, and about 10 minutes late to Gymboree. Luckily, the teacher never starts on time, so we were really only about five minutes late.

After Gymboree, we headed to Wal-Mart grocery store for a few items. Going to Wal-Mart is always fun because everyone gets to see my bra. It's fabulous! I sit Georgia in the cart in front of me, and strap her in as tightly as I possibly can and then she yanks at my shirt trying to get out. She stretches my shirt so far away from my body (and it doesn't matter what shirt I wear), that I have resigned myself to the fact that everyone in the greater Kansas City area has probably seen my bra.

Our Wal-Mart trip actually went fairly smoothly, until Eli found the big bin of balls. You all have seen this. They have the huge bin, where the balls come out the bottom, but to put them back in, you have to throw them up over the top, and if you buy one, you pay some exorbitant amount for a plastic ball that probably cost 10 cents to make, if that.

Anyway, Eli got a ball, and proceeded to throw it in the area of the top. I can barely throw it back in, so I knew this wasn't going to work. But determined as he is, he was not about to give up until he made it. So I lifted him up as high as I could, and said, "Throw it!" Didn't make it. I tried that twice. My next idea was to have him toss the ball, and I would volley it in. (We were quite the spectacle in the middle of Wal-Mart, by the way.) I said to Eli, "Throw the ball up as high as you can, and mommy will hit it in." He got a concentrated look on his face, and with all his might, he threw that ball up . . . . and over the back of his head.

It was really high, though. So high that it went over the top of the aisle and in to the next aisle, at which point I heard a woman's voice let out a surprised, "Oooo!" Eli didn't even notice. He just started looking around, saying, "Where'd it go?" Much to my horror, I realized at that moment that there was a little old lady watching our show, who at this point was laughing so hard that I thought she was going to wet herself. I decided it best to retrieve the ball and put it back in the bin myself. After that, we quickly finished our shopping.

Next stop - Kinko's. By this time, I knew Georgia was tired and I contemplated just going home. But I saw in the rear view mirror that she quickly fell asleep when we got in the car. Perfect, I thought! We could hit Kinko's and drop the thank-yous at the post office while she's asleep. So while I was driving to Kinko's, I started sealing the envelopes. Only then did I notice that I hadn't written anyone's address on them - just their names as I was planning to look the addresses up later. Crap! That means the TYs will have to wait. Hopefully, I will manage to get them out before Georgia turns two!

So, this meant Kinko's then home. We stopped at Kinko's, and I got Eli out of the car. Since Georgia was still sleeping, I left her in her carrier, and lugged the whole thing in. While I was standing at the desk waiting for assistance, Georgia woke up. Double crap!! As soon as she realized she was still in her carrier, she was pissed!! She started screaming bloody murder. Not cool! In the middle of a work day, you can imagine how busy Kinko's was, mostly with people from offices who certainly looked like they were not used to running into screaming children.

At least this got someone's attention to come and help me. Then, they didn't even have the ink I wanted. They had the expensive brand, but not the generic brand. Now, I should mention that as a mom, I have a great ability to block out crying children. I am perfectly capable of holding a conversation while my daughter's head is spinning around. I nicely asked the Kinko's guy to call the other stores to see if they had the correct ink cartridge. You would have thought I asked him to babysit for the afternoon. He grudgingly did so, as I tried to calm Georgia. Eli at this point was checking out the candy, picking out what he wanted. (Why the heck does Kinko's need to sell candy, for Christ's sake?!)

After I found out that apparently none of the stores sell the generic ink anymore, I agreed to take the expensive one. Now, I just needed some card stock to go with my new ink cartridge. At this point, I thought everyone in the store was going to kill me. The exasperated guy pulled out the book, and I quickly pointed to two I liked. Even though I could go to the paper store and get them cheaper, looking down at my screaming baby, I decided that was probably not a good idea. Plus, at this point the FedEx man had come out from behind his counter to start cooing at Georgia in an attempt to quiet her down. I guess that's when you know it's bad - when the FedEx guy feels it necessary to help you with your parenting skills.

So, we got our ink and paper but no candy, much to Eli's chagrin. Georgia was out like a light the second we got in the car, so we drove home, had lunch, and now the kids are napping - both of them. Do I hear a chorus of angels singing in the background?

Pre-school Moms - The Junior Leaguers (6/29/06)

Today is Thursday, and it's a pre-school day. Yippee! I look forward to pre-school days not because I want time away from my son, but because I can usually be slightly more productive. Eric looks at Tuesdays and Thursdays as the days when I get a "break." I think that's very funny, and I'm sure all of you moms out there can relate. However, I've decided to find it charming. That's my new thing - trying to laugh about things instead of letting them annoy me. Pre-school is a perfect example of this.

It's not easy for me to leave my children, even if it is only for a few hours in the care of qualified professionals at a church daycare. In fact, the only time I have ever been away from Eli overnight is when I was in the hospital giving birth to Georgia. I know, I know, it's time to cut the cord. I'm working on it. Pre-school is one more baby step! And I remain constantly entertained by the people at Eli's pre-school.

Anyone who lives in this area knows that Johnson County is one of the richest counties in the country (so I've heard). I think at one time, it was the third richest in the nation, but I don't think that is currently the case. Within Johnson County, however, we know where all of the money is, and it's not in Overland Park, where I live. It's in Leawood. Unfortunately, with the money, comes a lot of snobby moms, or as my friend Heather #2 (not to be confused with Heather #1 who is getting married) calls them - the Junior Leaguers (JLs).

Why am I telling you this, you may wonder. Well, you'll need the back story, since the pre-school my son attends is Leawood Baptist. I chose this pre-school because it came highly recommended from a friend who used to teach there. Eli has been attending since last September. The regular session ended in May, and the summer session just started last week. The summer session only lasts a month. It's two days a week - Tuesdays and Thursdays from 9:00 - 2:30, and cost $240. The prices just about kill me, but I was willing to pay it to have some extra productivity time, and to have something more for my son to do than to sit in front of the TV and watch Bob the Builder.

I fight with that enough the rest of the week. Yesterday, I finally turned off the TV and put Eli out back with a bucket of water and a paint brush and told him to paint the deck. That actually kept him entertained for awhile. He did run the hose so much refilling his bucket and watering the plants, that I'm sure our water bill will be outrageous. And he had to change his clothes four times because he was completely soaked, but he was getting "fresh air." Isn't that what our parents always told us? We needed to go outside and get some "fresh air!"

But I digress. Even though my goal was to get Eli away from the TV, guess what I found out this week's activities are at pre-school? Movies and popcorn! *sigh*

Most of the people I come into contact with at pre-school are very nice, with a few exceptions. The director, Miss Nicky constantly looks at me like I've got an extra head growing out of my shoulder. I haven't quite figured that out yet. I finally quit trying to make conversations with her because I can't stand her looking at me so strangely and not laughing at my jokes. I do have a nervous habit of making jokes when I'm uncomfortable. I'm sure my inappropriate sense of humor just causes her to look at me even more strangely, so I just can't win.

Then there are the other moms - the JLs - who show up to drop off their kids in their Lexus SUVs and their Infinitis, and have their make-up on and hair done, complete with designer sunglasses. Many times, they talk about going shopping on the Country Club Plaza while the kids are at pre-school. It's not that I don't go shopping, too, while Eli's at pre-school. I just do it at Aldi and Wal-Mart. I do have another mom friend whom I met the first day of pre-school last September - Nicola. When I walked in and saw her looking out of place with her hair in a pony tail and visible tattoos, I knew I had found a friend. She's a bartender at The Point, and I just love her. I'm missing her this summer. Unfortunately, they're not in the summer session.

Luckily, Eli's teachers are great, and the kids aren't old enough yet, I don't think, to worry about who's wearing what or who has the coolest backpack. (When does that start, anyway?) So, things are going well. I think if I just get over my insecurities, everything would be fine. Yes, I spent $30 on Crocs for Eli at the mall, when I could have bought the knock-offs at Payless. And he has a Buzz Lightyear backpack from the Disney store instead of a cheap one from Target.

Why is it I feel like I'm 13, still in competition with the cool kids? Does that feeling ever go away? Just when I think I'm getting better, the other moms knock me down a peg. Last month, the kids had a "mom's day." It was around Mother's Day, and the moms got to go in and spend an hour with their kids. A few days before that, one of the other moms came up to me and smiled, "Just a tip," she said, "They take your picture on Mom's Day." I just said, "Okay," not quite getting it. She responded, "So you might want to wear make-up or do your hair." Then she quickly said, "I'm telling all the moms so no one comes in looking like they just rolled out of bed." I politely thanked her and walked away, thinking, What the f*^# does that mean?!!!! I can't possibly look that bad in the mornings.

But like I said, I've decided to find things amusing instead of annoying, and being a writer - well, everything's a story!

Allergies and constipation (6/28/06)

The kids are completely off schedule since I took them to the doctor on Monday. I told Dr. Bush that Eli's schedule was off anyway because his inner clock seems to run an hour or two later than everyone else's. So, we talked about getting the kids on more of a schedule, to which their ears apparently perked up. I truly think Eli and Georgia held a meeting as to what needs to occur over the next week so there's no question they remain in charge.

The doc gave us a prescription for allergy medicine for Eli, which I got filled yesterday while he was at preschool. His little nose has been running like a sieve, so I gave him a dose of the medicine when we got home yesterday about 3:00. The medicine said, "May cause drowsiness." I just figured I wouldn't let him operate any heavy machinery and he would be fine. But about an hour later, he was practically catatonic on the couch while watching The Wiggles. When I asked if he was okay, I just got, "Mommy, I want to go to bed." So, I tucked him in bed about 4:00, already nervous that this was going to throw the whole day off. That meant he wouldn't get up until 6:00, and he wouldn't want to go to bed at night.

Boy was I off! When Eric got home about 5:40, Eli was still in bed, and I was just about to wake him up. Eric's comment? "Well, at least he napped and you got a break." Riiiiiight. I wasn't able to get Georgia down for a nap at the same time, but that's another story in and of itself.

I went in to rouse Eli. I did my usual routine that I do in the morning. I turned his lights on, tickled his tummy, kissed all over his face, all while singing my "Get up! Get up!" song. (Yes, I'm fully aware how annoying I must be.) All that got was some moaning as Eli blindly waved his hands to push me away and yanked the covers over his head. That's typical, so I kept trying . . . for almost an hour. By 6:45, I knew we were screwed. Eric's advice? "Oh, let him sleep. He's probably tired." Yes, but he wasn't the one who would probably be up with Eli when he got his second wind around midnight. Eric said, "Well, maybe he'll actually sleep through the night." To which I responded, "And what color is the sky in your world?"

So, we went through the evening routine with Georgia, and we kept checking on Eli but he was out like a light. It was after 9:00 when we finally got Georgia to bed because the lovely side effect from her shots seems to be constipation. It could be a lot worse, so I'm thankful for that. But she hasn't had a bowel movement in two days, and I think we all know how cranky one can get when one is backed up. I couldn't get her down for a nap yesterday afternoon, and usually that is the reason - she feels the "urge." So, last night her little face got red, and she strained and strained - nothing. She woke up early this morning, and no sooner had I gotten her dressed, when her little face got very red, and she strained and strained. Again - nothing. To top that off, her nose is running worse than Eli's because of all the teeth that are trying to pop through.

Oh the joys of motherhood!

I just attempted to put Georgia down for her morning nap, so we will see how that goes. Either, all the drainage will cause her to wake up in about 10 minutes coughing, or she will wake up with the "urge." I think if she could just have one poop, I could get her to sleep the whole day!

Eli is another story. After his drug induced coma last night, he did wake up right when we were getting ready to go to bed at 10:00 p.m. I couldn't resist the "I told you so." He woke up because apparently he was so out of it that he had wet the bed. So we were changing sheets last night at 10:00 and giving Eli a sponge bath so he wouldn't smell like pee. Then he decided he was hungry, so we tried to get him to eat pasta, which is what we had for dinner. After two bites of that, he announced he wanted Cheetos. Fine - I'm much more amiable when I want everyone to go to bed. Surprisingly, he started yawning again after we plied him with Cheetos and popcorn, so about 11:30, he went back to bed, which caused Eric to have a superior look on his face when I replied, "Well, I can't believe that."

So, this morning, I fully expected the kids to be up at 5:00 a.m. Georgia didn't wake up until 7:30. Eli was up before then because I heard him racing to the bathroom to go potty, and then race back to his room. I got up to rouse the kids and make cheesy eggs for breakfast, but when I went to get Eli up, all I got was, "I'm not hungry. I don't want anything!" I left his door open hoping the smell of eggs would change his mind. His response to that was to get up and slam the door shut. Okie dokie.

Georgia had a few bites of eggs, did the straining to poop thing, and then started rubbing her eyes. Usually she's up about 3 hours before she needs a morning nap. But today, Regis and Kelly had no sooner started their monologue than she was rubbing her eyes and searching for her paci. So, down she went for a nap. As soon as that happened, darned if Eli didn't pop up. It's the whole rule of how the children can't possibly nap at the same time. He's now watching Elmo, and still refusing breakfast. But his nose is running again, and he just announced, "Mommy, I need my medicine!" Do I dare? Hmmm . . .

Post script: The eagle has landed! Georgia woke up after 30 minutes with a pooper! Woo hoo!

Shots and suckers! (6/26/06)

Should I complain about lack of sleep at the beginning of every blog or should I just leave that as a given? The bad news is that Georgia was up half the night because of teething. The good news is that the much-awaited tooth in question finally popped through. Woo hoo! That's four down!

It also doesn't help that I'm not caught up on my sleep yet from Saturday night. After the engagement party, my head was spinning so much from wine and champagne, that I had to stay up after I got home until my head quit whirling. So Eric and I watched the House of Wax on Showtime and didn't go to bed until 2:00 a.m. (Is it completely twisted that I truly enjoyed seeing someone kill Paris Hilton?) So, when I wrote my blog yesterday morning, not only was I completely exhausted, but I was also hung over since I didn't completely recover from that until yesterday afternoon.

Only today, am I having memories of some of the things I said Saturday night. Eric told me by the end of the evening I forgot my name and had to look at my name tag before introducing myself to people, but I really think he's screwing with me. I do remember inviting everyone I came into contact with to the bridal shower. (I really should have gotten names when I was doing that.) And I remember desperately wanting to play "Heart and Soul" on the baby grand, but Heather stopped me from that one. Anyway, I still think I'm fairly safe since I can't recall anything happening that was truly embarrassing.

But, I digress. After a restless night last night with a teething baby, we had to get both kids up bright and early for their doctor's appointments this morning. Shots for everyone! What a great way to start off a Monday! I didn't even think Eli was supposed to get a shot, but he did. He was not happy about that at all. He told the nurse in a matter-of-fact tone, "Well, I don't want a shot today." He seemed to think that pronouncement would save him. Unfortunately, it didn't, but he seemed happy enough when the shot was followed by a sucker.

And why is it that if you have a problem you want to discuss with the pediatrician, it magically disappears as soon as you walk into the doctor's office. I really wanted to discuss Georgia's cough that she had all through the night and into this morning. As soon as we walked in - gone! I think these kids try to make mommy look like a crazy woman.

Unfortunately, Georgia was the hard one at the doctor's office today. I am sooooo not good at seeing my children in pain. I am doing better, however, the second time around. When Eli was a baby, I would leave every doctor's appointment sobbing. It's horrible to sit your baby down on the table when they're all happy and smiles, and then start poking them with needles and making them scream. As much as I tell myself it's for their own good, it still breaks my heart.

Georgia had to get three shots today - Prevnar, Chicken Pox and MMR (Measles, Mumps, Rubella). It was the MMR that was the bitch. Apparently, it hurt the worst, and could have the most side effects. Georgia is not a happy camper. She's sleepy, but not comfortable enough to sleep for more than short spurts. No fun. Maybe if I just keep her Tylenol high going, we can all manage to get some rest today. Hopefully, Eli will be able to tear himself away from Dora in about 15 minutes so he can nap, too. I'm crossing my fingers on that one.

My biggest concern with Eli today is that after six months of being completely potty-trained, he had three accidents over the weekend. I was concerned that he had a urinary tract infection, but Eric and the doctor assured me that he probably drank too much water before bed. The fun part about this incident is that it spurred Eric's mom into relating stories of Eric wetting the bed, much to his horror. Priceless!

Well, I was going to start today on plans for Eli's birthday party, but as far as I've gotten is that our theme is Bob the Builder . . . or The Wiggles. At least we have it narrowed down to two. It could quite possibly be a dual theme. Last year, he couldn't decide between Spiderman or The Wiggles, so we did both. Or we could just do a Jim Lehrer-themed party. Did you hear about the 3-year-old boy in St. Paul who did that? (Link to story: http://cbs2.com/watercooler/watercooler_story_167123209.html)

I think that sounds fabulous! Maybe Eli would want to do a Wolf Blitzer theme - that could hold all kinds of possibilities. Or maybe I could talk him into Anderson Cooper since he's such a hottie, and he has great Prada shoes. Shoot! I should have thought about that for Georgia's birthday. Oh well, maybe next year.

But I digress. Dora has now given way to Pinky Dinky Doo, so if I don't turn the TV off now, these kids will never go down for a nap. I hope you all are having a groovy Monday!

Look Who's 1!!! (June 25, 2006)

Don't you wish you had that much fun on your birthday? I think for my next birthday, I'm going to sit down and smash an entire cake in my face, too. That is a fun birthday!

Yesterday was the day of parties. Georgia Grace's party was around lunchtime, and Heather's engagement party was in the evening. I think both were a huge success. I decided to keep Georgia's party small this year, so we didn't invite all of our friends. We're doing that in a couple of weeks for Eli's party, and I felt badly about having two big parties so close together, as if to say, "Come. Buy my kids presents."

I discovered, however, that parties are a lot of work no matter how you slice it. It is difficult to pack everything in the window when you still have your kids at their "good" time before that sugar high wears off and they're ready for a nap. So, as soon as everyone got here, we had lunch, cut cake, and then Eli and Emily opened all of Georgia's gifts for her. The kids had a fabulous time, and we now need to build an addition to house all of the toys.

Georgia had an entire birthday cake all to herself, which she thoroughly enjoyed. I'm just hoping I can get the pink frosting out of everything. You would think frosting would come out of clothes, right? I'm a little worried because Georgia's face may be permanently stained pink from the frosting. The girl looks like she's suffering from Rosacea, but she doesn't seem to mind.

Next time anyone comes over to the house, we can have fun viewing the party on video! I was working the camera and the camcorder. Talk about multi-tasking. The only problem I had at the party was that some guests refused to take pictures, take video, help open gifts, or write down who the gifts were from because they were too busy sitting and watching the gifts being opened. Grrrrr! Is it just me, but when I got to a party, I always offer to help when people obviously need help. But you have to love those people who wait until everything is cleaned up and picked up, and as you're putting the last toy away, they say, "Do you need any help?" *sigh*

By the time we were ready to go the engagement party, both Eric and I were pooped. I already felt guilty leaving my baby girl on her birthday, and I felt even worse when I came in to say good-bye to her and she burst into tears. Not just tears, but the hysterical-sobbing-can't-catch-your-breath kind of tears. I think as soon as she saw I had make-up on, she knew I was leaving, so that pretty much did it. Or she could have just been scared of my dark lipstick. (I had on my evening face.)

But we left the crying baby with grandma, and Eli was so busy playing with all of Georgia's new toys that I couldn't even get him to look up when we left. No separation anxiety there!
We arrived at the engagement party promptly, and were greeted at the door with drinks. Woo hoo - my kind of party! I was pleased that even though I got very tipsy, I managed not to spill anything. Unfortunately, Heather was just as tipsy as me and spilled chardonnay all over the front of my dress. But hey, that's much better than spilling on the expensive furniture. What are friends for? Everyone seemed happy, and I tried to mingle with everyone, introducing myself, "Neila Forssberg, matron of honor."

You know how there's always one guest that people shy away from because the person is loud and boisterous? It wasn't me!! I was so happy! There was one friend of the family who kept feeding the family dog hummus off her finger, and when the owners came in, she said, "It's okay. We're hygienic." Heather said that is the one memory she's going to take away from the party. Classic!

Eric's favorite memory from the party was me introducing myself to the caterer. In all fairness, I was introducing myself to everyone, trying to mingle since I'm in the wedding party. I felt bad no one was talking to the guy, and he didn't look like a caterer. Eric said I should have received the hint when he met us at the door with drinks, but whatever.

Then there was the guy with the video camera. Everyone got liquored up and went downstairs in groups of three while he asked questions about Heather and Jim. Apparently, he's making a montage. If he shows it at the wedding I am so screwed. When you get Amy and me together bouncing off of each other, things can quickly go downhill, especially when he asked us to relate a fun story about Heather. There was talk of adult toys, Jim's hair, and how everyone thought he was gay when they first met. Hmmm . . . maybe he'll edit us out.

So the busy day is over. The kids had a great time at the party. We had a great time last night. And today we get to relax. Next up, bridal shower and Eli's birthday party. The fun never ends!!

Straight Men Don't Get Hair (June 23, 2006)

Well, I got my hair done this week. I charged it because with my anniversary, my husband's birthday, Father's Day, Georgia's birthday, and Eli's birthday falling within one month of each other, I am completely and utterly tapped. We're talking gas and food for the next week, and that's it!

Unfortunately, when I'm broke, I have a strong urge to spend money. Does anyone else get this, too? Most of the time, I'm fine, but when funds are running low, I'm just itching to buy something. Anything! A candle, a foo foo coffee, a Steve Lawrence record, it doesn't matter! So, I whipped out the Visa card and got my hair done. I got an all-over color instead of a highlight, which was a purely economical decision as a color is $20 cheaper than a highlight. As I've said before, I'm all about saving money. My husband doesn't see it that way, but I digress.

I was in the mood to do something different. Since I have the wedding coming up, I need to stay away from blue and pink, but I thought platinum blonde was safe. (I'll do anything to stay away from the "mom-do." I get called ma'am waaay too much as it is already.) So, not only is my hair shorter, it is blonde! Yes, yes, I know. It was blonde before, but now it's really blonde. I think my natural color contains the word "dishwater." That's all I had to hear years ago for motivation to open the bottle of peroxide.

Besides, color is the easiest thing to screw with because as my hairdresser said, "If you decide you hate it, we'll just add lowlights." Fabulous!

So, I come home ready for a comment. Anything from "Wow!" to "What the hell did you do to your hair?" I never know what I'm going to get. For the longest time, Eric adopted my dad's response to my mom when she comes home from the beauty shop, which is "Couldn't you get in?" Let me tell you, after spending $120 on your hair, that is not what you want to hear.
Anyway, I came home, and I waited. I played with the kids . . . and waited. I talked to Eric and got right in his face. . . nothing. Finally, I asked him, "Don't you notice anything different?"
"Well, yeah, your hair's different." And I'm purely convinced the only reason he said that is because he knew I just came from the salon. Grrrrr! Why do I bother.

When I saw my friend Aaron (my main gay) the next day, the first thing he said to me is, "Ooooo, you're blonde!" Thank you! That's all I'm asking!!

So, today may be a quick blog because I am trying desperately to get my daughter down for a nap. She is in her crib now, and she is unhappy, but I truly believe if I cross my fingers just right, she will fall asleep.

Because seriously people, I need a nap. I am tapped! Yesterday, I took my "break" when Eli was at pre-school and ran with it. We ran errands, I cleaned, I did laundry, dishes. It was amazing. I think I got more done yesterday than I have in the last two weeks. My house is spotless! Unfortunately, I zapped up all of today's energy, and while there's still a lot to do for Georgia's party tomorrow, all I can think about is turning my sound machine to babbling brook and taking a nap.

Plus, I have cramps. I hope the word "menstrual," doesn't send all my male readers scurrying, but I just have such perfect timing, I had to mention it. I only get cramps two days a month. Today is the day one, and tomorrow is day two (which sucks a big one), and then they will be gone. So, I will drug up on Motrin and open a bottle of wine, and hopefully everything will go well. At least tomorrow's Saturday.

My personal rule during the week is that I can't have a drink until after 5:00, but Saturday is a whole different ball game! The only time I broke my rule this week was when a Mike's Hard Lemonade fell out of the refrigerator and the top broke off. I couldn't very well pour it down the sink, now, could I?

After this weekend, I plan to focus more time to blog-related activities. You can now get to my blog by just typing in www.blogthatmommy.com. Right now, it just points to my Yahoo blog, but soon, I will be working on a design. (I'm not promising anything quickly because I am determined to try to do it myself.)

I don't know if I will be able to blog tomorrow, but I am sure I will have one hell of a blog on Sunday. With Georgia's party, Heather's engagement party, and the whole famn damily coming in town, I know there will be a lot to say!

Marshmallows, Ants and Hairballs - Oh My! (June 22, 2006)

Well, kids, we're about a week into the blogging, and overall, I deem it a huge success!! I am learning a few tricks to get some traffic to my site. For example, the day I blogged about The Wiggles, my hits more than doubled. Either everyone has PG-13-related thoughts about Anthony, the drummer, or I come up on a search engine somewhere for blogs about The Wiggles. I should now mention them in every blog to ensure a lot of hits!

I didn't blog yesterday because I am involved in a cleaning frenzy to get ready for Georgia's first birthday party this weekend. We will have both sets of parents, along with Eric's sister and her husband and daughter. I get very nervous when I have company, especially my mother because she is an immaculate housekeeper. And I don't just mean clean. We're talking obsessive-compulsive perfectionist. (And I mean that in the most loving way.) Still, I secretly think she pulls out a white glove when she enters my house.

So today after dropping Eli off at preschool, we came home and vacuumed, swept and mopped. Normally, I am under the delusional impression that my house is marginally clean - maybe a little cluttered - but clean. Well, that theory was shattered today when I got to my son's room. The boy had apparently taken a bag of marshmallows from the pantry, and hid them in his room. This would not have been horrible if they had still been in the bag. But they were everywhere, under the bookcase by his bed, and (my favorite) covered up by the Lego box. This is how I know he meant to hide them. Unfortunately, by the time I discovered his little hiding place, the ants had beaten me to it. Not cool! Especially when my daughter was right behind me, and her eyes lit up at the sight of marshmallows. Woo hoo - snack! I could see it in her face. So, she started eating those things faster than I could sweep them up. I finally put her down for a nap, so I could finish deconstructing the ant feast. Then I pine-solled everything. So I think that killed all the little buggers. Now I'm back to the delusion that my house is reasonably clean.

I say reasonably because I still do not know how to get Sharpie marker off a wood floor. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? I know nail polish remover works because that's how I get it off my son's face, but I'm thinking that wouldn't have a good effect on the floor. So if anyone has any ideas on that, please shoot me an e-mail or leave a comment after the blog. I'm also looking for a good mop. I have found the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser mop works quite well at cleaning cat throw up. Unfortunately, I have to replace the mop head every few moppings, and that's $6.99 a pop. I'm all about saving money, so I'm up for ideas.

Speaking of cat throw up. Grrrrr! I bought myself a new pair of pants last weekend. This is a big deal. I hardly ever shop for myself, but I found a very cute pair of capris. They're stripy (vertical stripy), so they're slimming, they go with a lot of my tops, and they fit perfect. It is a very rare occurrence that I find such a pair of pants! So, I bought them, came home, took them out of the sack and laid them out on my bed because I hadn't decided if I wanted to hang them up or fold them and put them in a drawer. Then I got busy with kids, yada, yada. A couple of hours later, in comes my husband. "I have some bad news. You're really not going to be happy about this." Oh, God, what?! Eli spilled grape juice on the carpet? They cancelled Lost? What?

Then he pulls out my new pants from behind his back. Apparently, my cat Marcel, found them a perfect place to puke up a hairball. My favorite part is that it wasn't just one spot on the pants. He had spread it around to three or four spots. Eric had nicely tried to scrub out the stains before I saw the pants, God bless him, so that kept me from hunting down the evil cats. How would they like it if I threw up all over something of theirs, where they slept, for instance? Although, that would be my couch, so it's really a lose-lose situation. Never mind.

I'm off this weekend to try my hardest not to mess up anyone else's house. (Did you like that segway?) Saturday night is Heather's engagement party. Someone asked me if she was offended that I'm blogging so much about wedding plans. Fortunately, I think she's so busy with wedding plans that she doesn't read the blog. I'm sure she'll let me know if I'm wrong.

Anyway, on the way home from dropping Eli off at preschool today, Georgia and I drove by the house of Jim's boss - he and his wife are the ones throwing the party. I knew it was a nice house in Prairie Village, and I just wanted to make sure I knew where we were going. Plus, I was curious how nice the house was after hearing Heather oooh and aahh. So we drove by. Twice.

Sweet holy Christ, these people have marble lion statues in front of their house, on either side of their doorway, and there was a carpet and upholstery cleaning truck in their driveway. So, not only are they rich, but I'm now extremely nervous I'm going to spill something because I know everything has been professionally cleaned. So, I called Heather and left a rambling message on her voicemail. She just sent me an e-mail that said, "Oh, they're really nice. Try to enjoy yourself . . . and don't ogle the $14,000 chandelier they just had imported from Italy. Holy Mother of God.

I'm just going to get comfortable in the fact that I will spill something. Probably red wine. Luckily, as evidenced by the truck in their driveway, they probably have a cleaning service on speed dial.

Pull those plastic covers over the couch. Neila's in the hizzy!

Bridesmaid's Dress - The Fitting (June 20, 2006)

Since you all have been the recipients of my bridesmaid's saga, you will love the tale of today's dress fitting. (Don't you love how I can make my friend's wedding all about me?)
Today was Eli's first day of summer pre-school, so I thought it would be a good idea to schedule my fitting when I only had Georgia with me. So, I packed her up in the stroller, and off we went to David's Bridal.

Oh! Oh! The bolero jacket is in, and it fits! Woo hoo! It is a happy, happy day because my arms will be covered. That alone allows me to laugh at everything else. When I got to the store, the first thing I asked is if that jacket was in. The lady looked it up and loudly said, "Is it in a size XX?" Oh, sweet Jesus, I don't need my dress size being shouted to God's creation. I'm embarrassed enough that Heather and Amy know what size I had to order. In my defense, those damn dresses run small.

After the woman retrieved my jacket, Georgia and I went back to the alterations room. I imagine a sweat shop in Russia looks about the same - sewing machines lines up, and several women (mostly Russian), sewing away on dresses. I put on my dress, and stepped out into the viewing area as I like to call it, surrounded by the 360 mirrors. Deep breath, deep breath. I think I had prepared myself for the moment - so far, so good. I wheeled Georgia over to the mirror, and gave her a few hundred Cheerios to keep her happy. And for most of the fitting, she was great, attempting to share her Cheerios with the baby in the mirror and talking up a storm.
Then, out came the seamstress from the sweatshop room. We will call her Helga, since I don't remember her name. Helga takes one look at the top of my dress, and sees that it is too big at the very top, due to my oddly shaped body. The dress fits everywhere else, in the back, through the boobs, but right over the boobs, it gaps open because it is too big. One glance at that had Helga going, "No, no, no. This is not good. This is not good." Yes, I know it doesn't fit. That's why I'm here.

Helga, who speaks very little English and has a thick Russian accent, kept saying things like, "Can't pin. Dress has boning." As if I am the first person in the history of David's Bridal whose dress was too big at the top. So, she started pinning under the arms - apparently that was an okay place to pin the damn thing. Now, about those pins - I am quite used to getting stuck with needles, as I had to give myself shots every day during both pregnancies, but it's a little different when someone is jabbing you under the arms with straight pins. Since Helga barely speaks English, hopefully she's not up on her English curse words, either.

Then Helga got to the hem. "Cannot looking down!" That's the phrase I heard from her about 50 times. Remember, my daughter was a few feet away in a stroller, and by nature, I kept looking at my baby to make sure she was okay. Yet every time I moved my head, "Cannot looking down!" Good lord, I was waiting for Helga's Russian mafia to pop out the way she was yelling at me.

So, by the end of the fitting, all seemed well and good. I was still elated with thoughts of the bolero jacket, but then I looked in the mirror, and Georgia apparently became annoyed when she realized the baby in the mirror was in fact her reflection and not a newfound friend. Now, I strapped that baby girl tightly into her stroller, yet somehow she managed to wiggle herself free. She was standing up in the stroller attempting to climb out. So I leapt toward her, screaming "Georgia Grace, sit down!" And behind me, Helga is yelling, "Cannot looking down! No move! You have pins! You have pins!" I started to say, "My daughter . . ." but Helga was already unzipping my dress and yanking it off of me so as not to mess up her handiwork.
Now, while the alterations area is in the back of the store, everyone can still see you when you're on the 360 platform, and there I was in my skivvies for everyone to see. Helga said, "No one coming back here." I don't care if "no one coming back here," I would prefer not to be seen in my bra and panties, for Christ's sake.

Then, Helga wanted me to wait there while she went to get her tape measure to take my measurements. I don't f*%#ing think so! I took Georgia and quickly scurried back into the dressing room to wait for Helga. So, in she came and started measuring me, reciting the measurements out loud. Then she took out her paper and poised her pencil over it, "Bust size?" she asked. What do you mean bust size? You just measured me! So, I remained silent. She looked at me, "What was bust size?"

I said, "I don't know. You just measured it." She sighed loudly; apparently I was putting her out, and said "You remember bust size." She didn't freaking tell me I was supposed to remember the numbers she was shouting at me in that thick Russian accent. Hell, I'm sure I heard something different than what she said anyway.

After she was finally done, I put my clothes on, and went in the sweatshop room to schedule my pick-up time - July 26. Apparently, they sew very slowly in the sweatshop. The woman asked me what time I could be in on that day (a Wednesday). I said, "Anytime after 5:00 would be great because then my husband can watch the kids."

Her response, "3:00"!

Ooookay, I guess 3:00 will work then. So I paid my $135 for the alterations, which includes a free steam clean, and we were off!

Don't forget to bring back your bra and shoes on the 26th," they shout at me as we were running out the door. "You'll have to try the dress on again when you pick up."
Oh, heaven help me!

Georgia Grace - A Walking Baby! (June 19, 2006)

Big, big news this weekend! On Saturday, just one week before her first birthday, my daughter took her first steps!! (Sniff, sniff) I still can't believe my baby is one!! And now, she's walking, too!!

Everyone has those moments in life - those every day moments that seem so simple - yet so huge that you know you'll remember them for the rest of your life. When you're young, you never seem to know which of those moments are going to stick in your head, but I think one of the great glories of being a parent is that you can realize those kinds of moments while they're happening.

When I had Eli four years ago, it was such a different experience from the one I had with Georgia. He was an emergency C-section, so I didn't even have time to say "boo" before they knocked me out and wheeled me into the operating room to get him out. Since I was under anesthetic, I wasn't awake when he was born, and I didn't get to meet him for the first time until 12 hours later. I will always remember the first time I saw him, but it was . . . different.

With Georgia, I will always remember the first time they held her up when she was all slimy and screaming with that dark brown hair matted to her head. She was the most beautiful thing I ever saw. I will always remember the first time I heard both of my children laugh. I will always remember the first time Eli rolled over on his own. And I will always remember the day Georgia took her first steps while she was so busy holding a beach ball twice the size of her head that she didn't even know what she was doing.

I think I often complain about how busy I am or how tired I am or how I wished I had a break. In fact, I think most moms are so exhausted that they forget to stop and think about how fast it goes. I remember myself at 14 when I snuck out of the house with Stacey, or at 15 when I was doing things I'm not going to write about here because my parents read this blog. And I am afraid to blink. Because when I do, Eli will be getting ready for college, and Georgia will be that teenage girl who's all too anxious to grow up.

So my message to all of the parents reading this is to forget about the dishes and the laundry. Buy groceries tomorrow and do the vacuuming later. Do something now that will make your kids laugh. Make them so happy that they give you a hug (sometimes all this takes is a gumball). Watch them enjoying something and feel your heart melt. And make one of those memories that you will never forget.

Anthony - The Hot Wiggle (June 17, 2006)

Happy Saturday! Today, I'm blogging on little sleep. Georgia is teething. She has 3 teeth so far, and the 4th one is about to pop through! It's an upper tooth, so it's causing a lot of drool, and a lot of coughing, and very little sleep. She woke up about 2:15 this morning, coughing and fussing. Friday night is supposed to be my husband, Eric's night to get up with the kids. So about 2:18, I started poking him. I may have well blew an air horn in his ear because I don't think that would have woken him up either.

After a few minutes, I was wide awake, but that wasn't the point. I wanted to see how long it would take him to get up and get the baby. It took lots of poking, but 20 minutes later (2:38 am), he rolled out of bed to go get her. Even though it was his night witht he kids, it still didn't do me much good. He brought Georgia in the bedroom, and she launched herself at me and hung on to me with a death grip. She had her head turned so I couldn't see her, but Eric told me she had the biggest smile on her face. Yay, she loves mommy. Boo, daddy got to roll over and go back to sleep while Georgia and I were up until 4:30. Sigh. The life of a sleepless mom.

My days have been spent planning birthday parties for my children, as their birthdays fall within two weeks of each other. Georgia turns one on June 24th, and Eli turns four on July 8th. For Georgia's birthday, we decided just to have the grandparents and Georgia's cousin come up for a small get together and a cookout. So, we'll eat, open presents, and Georgia will smash cake in her face. It will be fabulous! But the price of party supplies just about kills me. I'm doing a Hello Kitty theme for Georgia. Just for plates, cups and napkins at Party City, I spent $24. At least with purchase of a cake at Target ($17.99 for a 1/4 sheet cake), I get a free little cake for her to smash in her face. You can expect pictures of that on upcoming blogs.

It will be such a busy day because the night of Georgia's birthday, we're leaving her and Eli with the grandparents while we attend Heather and Jim's engagement party. You all remember the wedding I'm in, right? If not, scroll down for a view of the bridesmaid dress. Much more on that in this week's blogs. I have a fitting on Tuesday, so I'm sure I'll be hyperventilating after I get to look at myself in that 360 mirror at the bridal shop.

Now to the main topic of today's blog, and I can't believe it took me this long to get there - apparently, I get off on tangeants too easily. My son, Eli, is currently into The Wiggles, a recent switch from his very strong interest in Caillou. Caillou is a 4-year-old French-Canadian boy who mysteriously has no hair. I'm a fan of Caillou just because he's not nearly as annoying as Barney.

Anyway, last month The Wiggles were in town so we took Eli to go see them. We left Georgia with a friend so we could just make this a special time for Eli, and because tickets for just the three of us cost $100! It's no wonder The Wiggles are so rich. Anyway, since then, Eli's interest in The Wiggles has been on the rise, and so has his viewing of the DVD - Wiggles Dance Party. So in the last month, I have gotten to know The Wiggles intimately. Eli's favorite wiggle is Anthony because he plays the drums. Mommy's favorite Wiggle is Anthony because he's a hottie - and he plays the drums. I think drums equal some sort of bad boy thing, even though he's a happy-go-lucky Wiggle. What's up with that?

But seriously, have you ladies seen this guy? Big blue eyes, sexy Australian accent, and in the older videos, he has longer hair. It makes me wonder if there are Wiggles groupies. I picture a bunch of soccer moms offering themselves up so their kids can get in backstage. I told Eric we should do a mocumentary ala Spinal Tap about a Wiggles-like group and show their wild parties and groupies. That would be a hit, or so controversial it would make some money.

But when I saw these guys in action, I was really quite impressed. They were so happy and energetic, it made me think that they're either on some serious drugs, or they genuinely enjoy what they're doing. Considering they made $42 million last year alone (yes, I said $42 million), they're probably pretty damn happy! Did you know they're the highest grossing entertainers in Australia? I think number two on the list was AC/DC, and they didn't even earn half of what the Wiggles made. Who knew all the money was in children's entertainment? And it definitely helps the moms that they have the hot drummer!

Britney Spears - White Trash Mommy (June 16, 2006)

Today, Blog That Mommy is Blogging That Britney. I was planning to write about When Babies Attack - a fun topic in and of itself - but then I turned on Dateline NBC last night and hit pay dirt! After watching Britney Spears strung out and crying and talking about her horrible life, I just had to comment.

Did anyone catch Dateline last night? I'm now more convinced than ever that Sean Preston Federline has Child Protective Services on speed dial.

First off, if I were planning to do a national television interview, I might pretty myself up just a smidge. But apparently when Matt Lauer is coming to the house, appropriate attire for Britney Spears consists of cut-offs, a low-cut shirt with her boobs hanging out, chewing gum, and enough god-awful clumpy mascara to choke a horse. What the hell was up with her right eye, anyway? Can't the girl afford a make-up artist? Anyway, Brit sat down with Matt Lauer to discuss the press, her child, and her prize of a husband.

I'm sorry, but I can't get past this guy. They asked K-Fed one thing, and his response was something like, "I have feelings. I'm no different than nobody else." Uh-huh. Use some of those millions to pay for some grammar lessons, smart guy.

Then there's Britney. She spends so much time trying to convince everyone she's a sweet country girl that she comes off looking like an idiot. It's hard to imagine her as a good mother and business woman when she acts like a 14-year-old girl. So I'll just go over a few of my favorite parts of the interview.

When she described her upcoming children's clothing line as "the cutest stuff you've ever seen" (I doubt that), Mr. Lauer asked her, "So you like business?" Her response while chomping gum was, "I like money!" Has she done anything good with her money at all? She's from the South. Has she helped any Hurricane Katrina victims?

Mr. Lauer then questioned the fact that she was basically a home-wrecker because she apparently stole K-Fed away from his pregnant girlfriend with whom he already had one illegitimate child. Well, who can blame her? He's such a catch! Britney's defense? "Well, Julia Roberts' husband was married when she met him and nobody said anything about that." Okay, white trash mommy, I'm sure Julia Roberts will have plenty to say after reading that comment in the news this morning.

Onward to Miss Spears' mothering skills. Now, first of all, when I was pregnant and anyone asked me how far along I was, I knew to the minute. I could answer without hesitation, 24 weeks and 2 days. Pregnant women just know! When Mr. Lauer asked Britney how far along she was, her response was, "I don't know - 6 or 7 months." I'm sorry, what?! What do you mean you don't know?! Luckily the new baby's older brother is already close with the staff of Social Services.

Then there's poor little Sean Preston, himself. First, we had the incident of him sitting on his mom's lap while she was driving home from Starbucks. Her defense? "We're country people. When I was little, I sat on my dad's lap all the time when he was driving." Okay, farm girl, there's a big difference between driving on the country roads of Louisiana and driving on Pacific Coast Highway in Los Angeles.

Strike 2: She had to rush her baby to the emergency room after he fell from a high chair and hit his head because he was sitting in it unsecured. She acts like that kind of thing happens every day. Well, I am not a perfect mother by any means, but I can honestly say that my children have never fallen from a high chair, bed or any other raised surface because I don't leave them unsecured!

Strike 3: She has her 9-month old baby in a forward facing car seat. For those of you unfamiliar with baby safety, your child must be in a rear-facing car seat until they reach 1 year of age and a weight of at least 20 pounds.

Foul: She stumbled on the streets of New York while holding her child and almost dropped him. This one, I will give her. We have all stumbled while carrying our children, something which would be easy to do surrounded by hundreds of photographers. What amazed me is that her security guard seemed more concerned about her baby than she did.

Her defense for all of these things? "Accidents happen." Yes, accidents do happen. My son recently fell while we were playing miniature golf and skinned his knee. That was an accident. I was changing my daughter's diaper and accidentally scraped her with one of my fingernails. That was an accident. But putting your child in an unsecured high chair? That's careless. And driving with your baby on your lap or in a forward facing car seat? That's just plain stupid!

My take on the whole thing. Britney Spears loves the press and the paparazzi. She hasn't worked now in 2 or 3 years, so how else is she going to keep herself in the spotlight? I'm not saying the paparazzi isn't hard on her. I agree they are. However, if she truly thinks it's dangerous to her children, then do something about it. If I thought my children were in danger, I wouldn't wait around to see what happens next. Look at Angelina Jolie. I'm not a huge fan of hers as she's on the list of homewreckers, but at least she seems to have her children's best interests at heart. She wanted to get them away from prying eyes, so she packed them up and moved to a different country. Yet, Miss Spears sits crying in a restaurant with glass windows complaining that everyone is taking her picture. You poor thing. Pick up your kid and go home - or to a hotel. Order room service, for Christ's sake. But quit whining. If you truly think all of this has made you "strong" and "a good mother," you have a lot to learn.

Summer's Oldest Bridesmaid? - June 15, 2006

I warned you that I had many adventures this summer, not the least of which is the fun of being co-matrons of honor in my friend Heather's wedding. Yes, at age 34 - is that too old to be a bridesmaid? - I'm saddling up the bridesmaid dress and heading down the aisle. We are having a lot of fun with the planning. And luckily I get to offset that strapless dress (yes, strapless! - see photo) with a pair of tennis shoes. I do plan to wear a bolero jacket over the dress so you don't see my arms, thank God. I know that no one is happy with their arms, but I have that "bye bye" jiggle. You all know what I'm talking about - when your arm is still jiggling 30 minutes after you wave "bye bye." Not a pretty site, hence the bolero jacket. Plus, I just like to say the word bolero, so it's a win-win situation.

Today, we're working on shower invitations, and I really want to start it off with a love quote. My vote is for Jack Handy's "Whenever someone asks me to define love, I usually think for a minute, then I spin around and pin the guy's arm behind his back. NOW who's asking the questions?"

What a great quote! However, I have found that a stressed-out-bride has a severely impaired humor level. Therefore, I should probably shut it with the inane quips before I get myself axed from the wedding.

I think it's healthy to look at everything as funny. Or, being a writer, I look at every situation as a possible story. It really adds a lot of levity to my daily routine. When my bridesmaid dress came in last week, I went out for a few drinks before I tried it on. BTW, TGI Friday's has great Long Island Iced Teas! After three of those, I didn't think I was looking too bad in a strapless dress. My husband quickly burst my bubble with his opinion, "I thought it would look better." I'm sorry, what?!

He said, "It looks better in the picture. I just thought it would look better on you. I'm not even sure I like the color." Oh no, he didn't! That's right, I turned into ghetto Neila in a heartbeat. As soon as I responded, "What the f*%! is that supposed to mean?!" he quickly back peddled, saying, "It's not you! It's the dress! You always look beautiful!"

After 12 years of marriage, you would think he would know that the "You look beautiful" part should be his first response! Luckily, my children seemed to love the dress. My son thought it was fun to hide underneath it while I had it on, and my daughter was pleased that there was plenty of fabric for her to grab in handfuls for better leverage while she climbed me.

Ugh! I plan to do my arm workout video now, and I think I may throw an ab workout in there too. Then, I'll try the dress on next week and see if it looks any better - after a couple of Long Island Iced Teas.

Blog That Mommy Intro - June 13, 2006

I am vehemently against the term "stay-at-home" mom. Aren't all moms work-at-home moms? I have yet to meet a woman who stays at home with her children who doesn't do so much work during the day that she is completely and utterly exhausted by the time evening rolls around.

Let's see, in an average day, I will (try to) get up before my children, take a shower, make coffee, start laundry, do my exercise workout, and work on my Web editing before the kids roll out of bed. Then, I make breakfast, change diapers and dress children. On an "easy" day when we don't have to go anywhere, the kids will work on getting out every toy in the house while I attempt to fold laundry, clean the kitchen, sweep, vacuum or clean the bathrooms. Usually, I am able to subdue my 4-year-old son, Eli, for a little while with a DVD of Caillou, Barney or The Wiggles, but that's about the only reprieve I get. Georgia, my 1-year-old daughter, still naps, thank God, but sometimes it's extremely difficult to put her down with Eli squealing that everything is "super-dee-dooper" - his newest catch phrase from Barney - a video I get close to torching each day.

Amid all the chaos, I do freelance writing and editing from home. When I had one child who was an infant and a growing business, things were on the upswing professionally. Now that I have two very mobile and active children, I don't have much time to build a business. If I manage to get a free hour during the day, sleep takes a very large precedence over work.

The Mommy Blog is really my online diary and bitchfest, so I can get everything out. This is quite therapeutic and saves me from having to get a Paxil subscription.

Don't get me wrong. I love my children more than anything on God's green earth, and I do love staying and working at home with them. All I'm saying is that I think all mothers need a little acknowledgement sometimes. I have a friend with a newborn who is quite colicky. Her husband doesn't get up with him during the night because he has to go to "work" the next day. I'm sorry, but the last time I worked outside the home, I have a vague memory of sitting down at a desk and working without small children running around at my feet and having to stop every two minutes to referee fights. Isn't that called a "break"? But yet, I suppose men do need to rest up to go into those relaxing jobs every day. Women are up half the night with their children because they don't have to go to "work," right? Don't even get me started. One thing I have discovered is that it is amazing what the female body can do with absolutely no sleep. All of the moms I know can be up all night with a teething baby, and then do housework, cook dinner and run a marathon on no sleep. In fact, that's what we do most days, and we smell good and look pretty while we're doing it.

Well, that's enough of a bitch session to get this blog going. I have many adventures going on this summer with myself and my children - so there will be a lot to say.