Archives for February 2007

Sayonara, Cinderella!

Two months ago, The Princess was out of her Flintstones chewable vitamins. It so happened that Disney Princess vitamins were on sale that week – Buy One, Get One. Knowing, as a good daddy should, that The Princess hearts the Disney Princesses, Hubby bought the two bottles of vitamins.

After taking one, The Princess promptly decided she hated them.

So… because I’m cheap like that, rather than throw the darn things away, I have been taking the Princess vitamins. Today, I popped the last one. I am DONE.

I can now be a grownup again.

The Playdate from Hell

Between President’s Day on Monday and school being closed on Wednesday due to fog, The Princess has been cooped up at home for several days (fortunately, school was in session today – we all needed it!). Wednesday, upon hearing of the closure, the mom I carpool with and I decided to split up our day: The Princess would play at her house with her son for a few hours in the morning, and then they would take a break and he would come to our house in the afternoon. Great solution – both moms get a break – fantastic.

Now, because I carpool this little boy (who I’m just gonna call Boy for short), I’m pretty familiar with him. He’s NOT a good listener, he doesn’t look both ways before darting into traffic (Despite my cautioning as we approach the curb, “Boy, we are going to cross the street. Stop and let’s look both ways first!”), and he’s pretty aggressive. On two previous occasions, I’d seen him hit The Princess (one was at his house and his mother gave him a good talkin’ to – the other time was in my car, and I gave him a talkin’ to). Since I’d never been around Boy for an extended length of time, I wasn’t sure what to expect.

To occupy the kids, we set up a cooking project (chocolate cupcakes with frosting and a small round cake). I gave each kid a spatula, and within seconds, Boy had taken his spatula and smacked The Princess with it. I confiscated said spatula and told Boy sternly, “We don’t hit. Hitting is NOT allowed in my house.” He laughed that he only tapped her (!), and then ridiculed The Princess for being a “crybaby” (to be fair, she does cry at the drop of a hat – but I don’t think it’s unreasonable to cry when someone has slammed a spatula on your head).


So, we progress with the cooking project, get the treats in the oven, when the kids immediately get into a tug-of-war over darn near every toy in the house. If The Princess wanted it, Boy had to try to grab it out of her hand. Embarassingly, the opposite because true as well. I put a lot of toys in time out, and ended up assigning colors for the blocks because they were (!) fighting over who could use the pink ones. I have never seen a playdate get this ugly – my daughter, though she’s an emotional sort (we’re working on it, I swear), is NOT the type to get this worked up and jerky to her friends. She was pretty territorial. Bored with fighting with The PRincess, Boy found the spatula, opened my pantry and proceeded to pulverize a sleeve of saltine crackers by beating it to crumbs before I caught him. Who does that?! Having to later tell him to stop jumping on my sofa (He’s allowed to do this at home, I’ve seen him do it, and I’ve seen his mom not address it), I was just really ready for him to go!

After one more incident of his overly-aggressive behavior (shoving my daughter to get a toy from her), I was super duper thrilled to see his mother pull into our driveway and to be able to send him on his way. I may have even done a happy dance.

I’m at a loss, and I really don’t know what to do. I really like Boy’s parents – they seem a good sort (if not a touch too laid back with their kid!), and I know that having another playdate might come up in the future, and how do I kindly say that there is no way on earth that I would go for that again, seeing how his idea of fun is beating the stuffing out of my kid?!

Peaceful, Easy Feeling… And More Construction Crap

Thanks for your votes, ladies! I questioned a few more people and the odds were overwhelmingly for Summer Wish. And THEN, I followed Farm Wife’s suggestion, knowing that I’m a big chicken, and went a shade lighter… So, we have three gallons of Peaceful Calm sitting in our hallway, waiting for the builders to give us the go ahead to paint.

(By the way, our mudroom/entry way will be Behr Skysail Blue, our office will be Behr Grass Cloth… you know our bedroom color… NOW, what do we do for the adjoining master bath? More yellow, because – why not? Blue, because Hubby likes it? Green because it’s my favorite color and looks so snazzy next to yellow? The Master bath floor is going to be a white marble-y looking tile, the bathtub is white, the shower is white, the vanity is a light pine, and the sink is white… so… Colors?)

Today, I have about hit my limit and am on the verge of a meltdown. Not a Britney-freakout-shave-my-head meltdown, but a “If-I-See-One-More-Naked-Barbie-Doll-On-My-Floor-And-I-Trip-Over-One-More-Freakin’-Snowboot-I’m-Moving-to-Timbuktu” kinda meltdown. Or more likely just, you know, a mom in need of a Calgon moment. Hubby came home after I spent the day picking up after the girls (The Princess thought it would be great fun to grab the huge Rubbermaid tub full of clothes she’s outgrown, spew them all over her bedroom floor, and then use Pumpkin for a lifesize doll to dress up… whatta disaster area).

Hubby came home to this: “I’m so sick of construction! It’s been FOUR MONTHS! I’m sick of people walking through our house all day! I’m sick of having a layer of dust on everything! I’m tired of everything being all over the place! I’m tired of the mess! I just want it to be clean! I want it to be done! I want things to look nice! I want the playroom done so I don’t have Barbies and toys all over the place!”

Hubby just looked at me and sighed, “Thank god!”


“I was wondering if you’d been replaced by pod people! I can’t believe it took you FOUR MONTHS to get to this point.”

People, I’ve held it together pretty well till now, but man, I am LOSING IT.

So wish me luck, and may the construction gods be smiling upon me.

Pick My Paint

Hubby and I are going to pick up paint for our NEW bedroom soon. We have a beige/brown carpet, and our bed is upholstered in a deep red/orange damask type fabric. After much soul-searching, I’ve decided a nice, subtle yellow color will look good in the room – it gets so much sunlight, and yellow will complement the other colors (bed, carpet, artwork) in the room nicely.

I’ve got it narrowed down to five shades of yellow. They are all so similar, that I could pick or choose any and be fine with it. So, by name only – PICK MY PAINT:

1 – Creamy Oat
2 – Warm Summer
3 – Summer Wish
4 – Peaceful Calm
5 – Coconut Cream

So – what will it be?

Two More Months

Two more months left of tax season. I’m glad we’re nearly half way through. Last night, before going to bed, I looked at Hubby and said, “I miss you!” Feel like we’re somewhat of ships in the night during this time of year. Tuesday, he’d gone back to work after we tucked the girls in, and came home after I had zonked out. He left for work before I woke up Wednesday morning (we left VDay cards for each other propped up where the other would find them).

Last night, he was home at a decent hour, but went into the addition to wipe the dust off the walls so we could primer them tonight (we should be done with construction in about two weeks!). Even when we’re home together, we’re swamped!

We definitely will be needing a vacation by mid-April!

Idol Chatter

So so sad. I was watching American Idol tonight (like you weren’t?!), and this kid from Minnesota was auditioning. He said when he came home from getting his ticket to HOllywood, he came home and his mom actually hugged him. Said that she never hugged him, and he’s been trying so hard to impress her all these years. When he made it through the next round, he called her and she said, “I love you.” The kid was sobbing, looking at his cellphone and said: “She never says ‘I love you’.”

That is the kind of parent I DON’T want to be. I never want my kids to look surprised when I hug them, or I say that I love them, or call them some goofy, affectionate pet name. This boy seemed so desperate for his parents’ approval, and how gut-wrenching to see that look of shock to hear his mother say she loves him.

Sigh. I love my kids. Insanely. Truly. Completely. Even when they drive me bonkers (and they do sometimes, because… well, that’s what kids do), I love them and tell them so. Repeatedly. While hugging them.

Shake, Shake, Shake – Shake Your Booty

Stepson has only been attending his current school for a few months, and I have to say, I like it worlds better than his old school, which was, to put it nicely, in the ghetto and its student body was made up of thugs-in-training and junior criminals (I am only being half tongue-in-cheek about it – the school was for kids with behavioral issues, so it was the accumulation of all kids who had been kicked out of their regular schools who attended).

This new school is a step forward. Though it’s not in our district, the neighborhood isn’t altogether unlike ours. The programs they have for their special education students is amazing. The staff is amazing. The other kids seem to be great so far. And they do FUN things.

Last night, the fifth grade fundraiser took place: It was a DISCO. For the whole family.

While we didn’t get decked out in platforms, polyester or afro wigs (though some did – including Stepson’s math teacher, who we got to meet — along with his science teacher who was wearing a scary polyester pants suit that I’m sure the kids will be using for science experiments later in the month), Hubby and I took the three kids and set out for the event.

And we had a good time.

One of the best parts of the night was that Stepson’s mother didn’t attend. In his previous school, she attended EVERY school function – and it kind of sucked out the joy of things for us (there’s no love lost between us). Another plus was that immediately, The Princess and I recognized a girl and her mom that we see weekly at The Princess’s dance class – AWESOME. The two four year olds hit the dance floor and had a blast! Plus, I had someone to talk to in a place where I really didn’t know anyone. Which was unexpected.

Stepson took off with some friends (he has friends! he has friends!), and Hubby and I danced with our daughters for quite some time. We were some of the few parents on the dance floor (poor Stepson – oh the shame!), and we had a good time.

When it was time to go, we had to carry The Princess out of the gymnasium crying because she was having so much fun, she didn’t want to leave.

I’m sure the school raised a pretty penny, and what a fun way to do it. We do so few things together as a family lately, and for ten bucks, we had a few hours of good, groovin’ fun.

Back To School…

This morning, as soon as I stumbled out of bed, I logged on to our local news station’s website and checked for school closings. Yippee – local schools were NOT closed today.

The Princess attends preschool only three days a week, and schools were closed both Monday and Tuesday. While this could have been a fun thing, as The Princess has two buddies that attend school on an opposite schedule, it wasn’t – because those two buddies were both SICK. From Friday afternoon through yesterday morning, we never left our house. Snow and blowing snow, as well as blizzard conditions, white outs, and nasty roads kept us housebound and let me tell you: We were ALL feeling it.

I caved on my tv rule and just let the girls watch copious amounts of Dora, Pinky Dinky Doo, Diego, Backyardigans. What else is there to do?! The Princess and I baked quite a bit. Played several games of Uno. Pumpkin and I read some stories together. Sang some songs.

But yesterday? I couldn’t take it anymore. I told my sister, “I don’t care if I have to drive 2 mph the whole way there, we’re going to Target!” The roads were still a bit messy, the drive was still a bit slow, but the diversion was a welcome relief for us all. We picked up some things we needed, plus some things we wanted (such as a Magic Wand from Target’s Dollar Spot — I hate dollar stores, but Love Target’s Dollar Spot). Oh, and made a Starbucks stop. For two blissful hours, we were side tracked from the monotony of the last several days.

And then we got home.

Again, The Princess wanted to call so-and-so and what’s-his-name, and again, we found out that they were both still too sick to play. Again, pouting ensued.

It didn’t break my heart when the other carpool mom came to pick her up this morning. I love my daughter, I really do – but she definitely needed a change of scenery, and I definitely needed some downtime. Pumpkin is blissfully snoozing, and I am relishing the sound of silence.

You’re FIRED!

Tonight, Hubby and I channeled our inner Donald Trumps and called our contractor with the direction to “fire the drywallers”. I’m actually surprised that this is the first big glitch with our construction project – but, seeing as how we are about a week away from the original estimated completion date, and the drywallers have been short-timing this job for the past two and a half weeks, I’m starting to lose patience. And if I’m not happy, NOBODY’S happy.

Our contractor was feeling the same way we were – when the drywall dudes (duds?)first showed up on the job, the very first day, they ended up leaving for an hour almost immediately upon arriving because they “had forgotten a tool”. Hello? This is your JOB! That same day, they left early (though not before taking an extended lunch break) because one of the guys got “an emergency call”. Um, okay. In the few hours they were there, they didn’t even finish hanging the drywall in one room. The next day they showed up, they came downstairs asking me where a hardware store was because they were running low on screws. Again: Dudes, this is your JOB! How are you NOT prepared when you arrive on a job, when you don’t get there until it’s almost freakin’ NOON!?! Of course, both guys had to take the trip to the hardware store, and that ate up a nice chunk of the day – but don’t worry, they still got their lunch break…


After the first two days our contractor gave their boss some grief and the guys swore they would finish the job… On Monday. Showed up two hours late (“Had to quote another job” – never mind that they can’t handle the work they’ve got), and actually stayed past dark to finish hanging the drywall. It was another several days before another group showed up to start “mudding” — both guys apparently chainsmokers, who ended up making most of my house smell like an ashtray. No one showed up on Friday until the Boss showed up at five to swear he was going to work ALL WEEKEND on our house.

And he didn’t show. And he didn’t call our contractor (who had no idea he hadn’t showed to work on Friday, because he didn’t call him then either).

Meanwhile, my garage isn’t usable because it needs to get finished – which can’t happen until the drywall is done. My new laundry room and mudroom can’t be finished… until the drywall is done. Our upstairs addition (including our new bedroom suite) can’t progress further… until the drywall is done.

We had the nastiest weather I have seen in YEARS, and my van is parked in the driveway under several inches of snow because my garage is out of commission. And all the other junk from our garage? It’s in OUR HOUSE.

Yes. I’m losing patience. I’ve made it nearly four months… But my patience? It’s shot.

I can’t WAIT to get this house done.