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Showing posts from May, 2013

Fantabulous Weekend

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My husband and I decided that the best way to celebrate our wedding anniversary was . . . to spend over five hours in the car for a weekend trip. With an irritable second grader in the back seat. Tres romantique! I have to say that the kid was actually pretty compliant on the drive both ways. She has gotten into playing Minecraft (her cousin gave her some pointers) so she plays that on the Kindle Fire for fairly long stretches. Apparently the game involves building stuff. There are two modes: creative mode and monster mode.  She dabbles in monster mode (the game cycles through day/night and, as I understand it, the monsters come out at night) but mostly plays in creative mode. During the trip, we asked her what she was building. "I'm building a house. I'm building the floor out of snow." P and I looked at each other and then asked the same question: "Don't your feet get cold if the floor is made out of snow?" A, looking at us as if we are complet

Well, I hope you people are happy.

I'm working on a blog entry about our eventful holiday weekend, but in the meantime, I wanted to accuse several of my friends of ruining my life. You see, at least once a day I get a message via Facebook: so-and-so invited you to play Candy Crush Saga . "Pffft!" I always say. "Do I look like I have time to play Candy Crush Saga? I'm too busy wasting time playing Words with Friends and trolling playlists on Spotify." Then, one evening last week, my daughter and I biked to the park for a little fun before bath time. She immediately befriended a group of n'er-do-well kiddoes from the 'hood so I sat on a bench and fiddled with my phone.  "What the heck," I thought, "I'll install Candy Crush Saga. See what all the fuss is about." It took a while to install, so I left my phone to do its thing and then forgot about it. A few days later, my daughter was playing with my phone and found the game. "Can I play?" she asked.

16 years ago

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16 years ago today, I married this guy: (The curly-haired girl showed up a lot later.) We've been together 21 years. During our many years together, he: Has watched me lose and gain hundreds of pounds. Wisely, he says nary a word about my weight.  Tells me "you look nice today" twice a year like clockwork. He doesn't want me getting too cocky - you know how it is. Lets me listen to my music as loud as I want. Never complains about my cooking, even that one time during the early years when I attempted that one recipe that resulted in grey potatoes. Has busted me repeatedly for my failure to refill the ice cube trays. But, you see . . . he's so good at it! Has proven to be a wonderful, wonderful father.  Has proven to be a terrible homeowner. I almost think a random stranger at the grocery store would be more alarmed about the condition of our lawn (and everything else inside and outside our home) than my husband is. Has gone completely grey but main

Cousins!

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A week after my dad left, my middle sister and her middle son arrived for a visit. We are so popular!  My daughter is over the moon to have one of her cousins around for a few days.  On Saturday, we took the kids to a science museum. A and her cousin are 16 months apart and get along really well. They haven't seen each other in a year but they were thick as thieves in a matter of minutes. On Sunday, we took the dynamic duo to an indoor water park. Then, they spent most of evening creating masterpieces out of sidewalk chalk (on our driveway). We even let them back outside in their pajamas after dinner. Hey, you only get so many opportunities to eat ice cream on the porch in your pj's. Before you know it, you have to be a grown-up and a responsible citizen blah blah blah. The cutest part about the artwork on the driveway was the teamwork involved. My nephew sketched this huge dragon (with fire in its eyes, of course) and my daughter helped color it in.  Then she made a poster a

Wait, you went where?

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Despite my ardent attempts to sabotage my own happiness on Mother's Day, it turned out to be a pretty nice day. At church, we were holding a flower communion service .  This is a Unitarian Universalist tradition.  In our church, the entire flower communion service is presented by children in the religious education program, and my daughter had volunteered to read two long passages. In one passage, she had to read the word "Czechoslovakia."  We practiced it all morning.  I even wrote it phonetically for her on the paper. When it was her turn to speak, she had a sudden bout of stage fright and one of the teachers read with her until she felt comfortable enough to read on her own. She did fine after that.  I was so proud of my baby! And yes, she pronounced "Czechoslovakia" correctly. After church, the three of us went out to lunch. A local joint has a walnut burger that makes all my dreams come true, so we went there. We even went crazy and got dessert. We didn

Seeing it all wrong

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For reasons I don't entirely understand, Mother's Day causes me a fair amount of angst and anxiety. Not because of my own mom. I mean, it goes without saying that she rocks. I sent her a bunch of quirky stuff for Mother's Day plus one practical thing - a Kohl's gift card. I spoke to her on the phone last night and I think she dug the gifts. I told her I love her and wished her a Happy Mother's Day. It's all good. The angst is related to my role as a mom. If I'm being absolutely honest, I'm uncomfortable getting any special attention on Mother's Day. For moms who didn't give birth to their children, there is a whole separate undercurrent. If someone is going to give you a child, you'd better be the most spectacular mom the world has ever known.   I am sure much of it stems from my own anxieties and insecurities. I didn't give birth to her. I don't deserve her. I'm a terrible mother.   I didn't ask for any gifts for Mother&#

G to the Randpa

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My dad flew in from Maryland last week. He stayed with us for a week. It's been 17 years since I left the east coast and this was his first visit. He's retired now and has more time on his hands these days, so I issued an invitation and he promptly bought a plane ticket. If my daughter has a fan club, I'd have to say that my dad is a charter member. He sends her texts on my phone (then I have to hand her my phone so that she can tap out a response). On Friday, I picked him up at the airport and then we drove to Kindercare to pick up the kid. She spotted Grandpa Ted and ran towards him. He scooped her up and gave her a big squeeze. "I came all this way just to see you !" he exclaimed. Um, Dad, you know I can hear you, right?  We had a fun week. I still had to work during the week, but I pulled the kid out of school Tuesday afternoon so that she could drag Grandpa Ted to the park. P took Thursday off and went out to lunch and whatnot with my dad. Thursday was al

Party of the Year

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The event of the year was held on Saturday. I spent several months booking the location (a water park), ordering custom invitations, ordering personalized wooden forks (no plastic for the landfill, yo), filling goodie bags, coordinating pizza/drink orders with the facility, tracking RSVPs, buying decorations, napkins, and paper plates, ordering a cake (and picking it up), and buying birthday gifts for our daughter.  My husband's contribution? Showing up on the day of the party and blowing up a few balloons.  Thanks, Sweetie! The kid invited 14 friends (plus my dad, who is visiting us from Maryland) and all but one came to the party.  A few parents stayed, but most left. We had a party room right next to the water park (located inside a hotel).  The room was really nice and the staff was helpful. As soon as all the kids arrived, they quickly exchanged their clothing for swimsuits and hit the water park. They swam for about an hour and a half until it was time to serve pizza. We ha

Eight

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Hey, Goober . . . you're eight! Thanks for letting me call you Goober. You have a few other nicknames: Curly Girlie, Gooberlicious, Pie, Sassypants, and Your Highness. We call you Your Highness because you sometimes confuse the term "parents" with . . . "servants."  Eight years ago today, your dad and I were hanging out at the hospital, waiting for you to show up. You were due on April 26th but arrived on May 3rd. Even then, you did not emerge voluntarily - an induction was required.  Your birthmom had a very long day that day. Everything changed on 5/3/05 - for all of us -  but it remains the best day of my life. Today, you still do everything on your own timeline. You're feisty and smart and funny and we wouldn't have you any other way. Oh, and bossy. We thank you regularly for not being twins. Although we are still waiting for you to comb your own hair and put the cap back on your toothpaste, you have matured in other ways. You "get"