Adventures in the school drop-off line

Let me start by saying, I truly dislike the school drop-off and pick-up lines. In fact, dare I admit that in my daughter's six month career in elementary school, I have yet to brave the pick-up line. I've been around the school grounds close to an hour prior to dismissal and there are folks already parked and waiting. Seriously? What do you do in your car for an hour to just wait? There's a small part of me that longs for an hour of silence to read a good book. But every day? Besides, my hour would consist of a cranky 4 year old, who is normally sleeping at that time, buckled into car seat, whining about being too hot/cold/tired/thirsty/BORED! Since my daughter spends a grand total of 7 minutes on the school bus, that's our chosen method of transportation home. For getting her there, I'm stuck. The bus would pick her up an hour before school starts and there's just no point in that. So I'm forced to either walk or drop her off. When temps are in the 30's, there's no way I'm walking. In fact, we have a 55 degree rule.

So today at drop-off, I *thought* we were going to have the coveted first spot. How it works is that there are roughly 7 positions in which you can pull up into to drop your child off. The first one is closest to the door my sweet, cherubic daughter likes to go in. When we're in the 7th spot, it's a haul for her. Nothing cheers her up more about her day is getting that first spot. Today, I thought it was ours. Wrong...

Cars 1-5 and 7 all deployed their children as usual. As we waited, I smiled and joined in the giddy chatter about being "#1" and how cool it was to start off our week this way.

The cars ahead of us started to move around the circle. My daughter grabbed her backpack. I proceeded forward and very unexpectedly had to stop. Car #6 first failed to pull up all the way to the front then let her child out, thereby holding up the whole line. My little sweetness was forced to get out in the #5 spot.

For future reference Car #6, you pull all the way up to the crosswalk/sign if you're in the first spot. Also, regardless of where you are in the 1-7 line, you must let your child out even if he has to walk a distant to his preferred door. Everyone has a different spot they love. You can not just stop at like #3 because that suits you because then you mess up minimally two cycles of cars.

Perhaps it was your first drop off. Perhaps you've only done it a few times. Perhaps you had a hard morning. Perhaps perhaps perhaps... I will choose to believe you were not under the impression you are above the rules. So given this courtesy benefit of the doubt, please get it right next time. It's February. We all should know better by now. I thank you for your understanding and cooperation in the future. And should you mess it up again I will punch you in the junk. Have a wonderful day. ;-)

[photo courtesy of www.parenttalktoday.com. It's adorable, isn't it? I just recently found this blog recently and it seems to be filled with some great topics. Check it out!]

Be careful for what you wish

Ever since we got our new couches, which are extremely soft and cushy, I have longed for the opportunity to wrap up in our fluffy down throws and lounge like my life depended on it. For the past three days, I've done exactly that. Both my little one and I grew sicker as each day went by. I took her to the doc on Thursday and she was diagnosed with a sinus infection. Why I didn't make an appointment for myself is beyond me. My temp still lingers around 100 and I'm still coughing. Frankly, it's getting exhausting. Though I am thoroughly acquainted with our couches and the throws. I'm growing to resent them.

Today my older daughter got her first of many pairs of specs. Last night we had her eyes evaluated by our optometrist and the impairment in one of her eyes is so bad that her two don't work together. It's on the borderline between moderate and severe. If the glasses don't do their job in the next 6-8 weeks we will need to put patches over her eye. How friggin' traumatizing.

This afternoon we found some frames she liked and her glasses were ready in about an hour. As luck had it, her doc was in at that time and was able to take a quick look at the glasses and her eyes to make sure they were as he had prescribed. This falls into one of my "it was meant to be" moments file. Her doc has his own office and studio that isn't open on weekends. Only today did I learn that's because he works on Saturdays at LensCrafters. How convenient for us!

The frame choice of Miss Priss may have been swayed because this pair came with magnetic clip on sunglasses. They are a wire frame made of a dark copper color. I swear pink or purple would have won out. Regardless, she looks adorable. If only there wasn't a vision issue associated with them.

So I'm mildly devastated and quite relieved. I'm afraid that she'll feel a difference in attention she receives from classmates after the glasses go to school on Monday. It sounds like I'm being boastful, but I promise that's not where I'm coming from. My daughter is the popular little girl in class. All of the boys love her. I've seen it myself! Even today when we went to her school's fall festival, we sat across the table from a mom and her little boy. Our children knew each other from the bus. His mom introduced herself as my daughter's boyfriends' mother, laughing as she added "but your daughter didn't know that yet." I'll be sad for my little girl if that attention fades away. Not because I really want boys chasing her, more because I think it boosts her confidence.

Though bottom line, I feel so blessed that this vision issue was found now. I have no binocular vision. This develops in your brain between ages 6 and 8. My disability was realized too late to do anything. My daughter is 5 1/2 and I honestly pray we're early enough. I want her to have the gift of good vision and I'm crushed she hasn't had it all along. I swear, I still say we had no idea. :-(

On a totally unrelated note, we got a new vacuum today. I joined http://www.consumerreports.com/ for one month to research vacuums and ended up trashing their recommendations. We had $200 in Target gift cards and I didn't feel like disregarding them because the top rated brand is only sold at Sears. So we threw all caution and research to the wind and got a Bissell Healthy Home. Wish me luck that this mother is effective. We couldn't resist the urge to crank it up tonight and it seems to have done a good job.

Another project I've been working on is finding Christmas gifts for my girls. My brother and his wife rely on me to provide a list of presents for them to get. I did one better this year and actually purchased one. The Disney Store clearance priced their Halloween costumes two weeks ago. These guys retailed for $39.50 and were now priced at $10. I bought my older daughter a Belle costume that I have since realized is too big, but fixable. I was holding out for Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty for my little one, but darn it - they are STILL full price! On that first day I picked up an Ariel one for a friend's daughter's birthday. Since she and my daughter are the same size, I had my little one try it on to make sure it would fit her friend. Lo and behold, my daughter fell in love.

Tonight I made, what I vow to be, my final Disney Store run trying to complete this stupid gift. What's got my eye now, though, are their "deluxe" costumes. Imagine what the "real" Cinderella's dress looks like and miniaturize it. These absolutely beautiful dresses retail for $79.50. They are clearance priced for $22.50. *gasp*

You'd think I'd snatch them up, but I've resisted. "Are you nuts?" you may wonder. Perhaps. But the lingering question floating around my brain is "who am I buying it for? Me or the girls?" When I was little, I wished and prayed for such an amazing costume. I dreamed of twirling and singing in one. I'm sure at some point I begged my mom to make me one. My girls, on the other hand, won't appreciate the extra petticoats. They've been there, done that in various forms. Besides, the Belle dress I already purchased for $10 is really really beautiful! The Ariel costume, which I ended up getting for $7.50, is quite a bit less grand, but let's face it - it's a mermaid tail. How full can that be? So now I have to try to stop thinking about the amazing deal. The girls have FAR too many toys. They are getting a buttload for Christmas. They do not need more. We don't need to spend more money. They will love the costumes I've got. Do not buy them. Stay away. Disney should let us vacation in the World for free based on the huge amount of money we spend on their products yearly. *deep breaths*

I, about an hour ago, turned into my mother

I can remember my mom having this glow-in-the-dark plastic #1 key chain that she'd stick masking tape too with notes to herself. I can remember being in 4th grade and she had "violin" on the masking tape. Guess she thought I needed some practice!

Tomorrow is my daughter's snack day at kindergarten. Miraculously I remembered to purchase said snack at the grocery store with no panic. I found exactly what was requested. I have the popcorn bags in my handy dandy reusable bag. The water bottles (which cancel out the reusable bag ten-fold, in case anyone is keeping an environmental score on this one) are still in the garage so I don't forget them.

As I prepped our things this evening to ensure a smooth morning (which included a thirty minute search for a missing blankie) I taped a piece of paper that reads "Snack Day" on both my steering wheel and jogging stroller - didn't want to limit my mode of transportation! As I walked back from the garage, it hit me. I have just turned into my mother. I, again, realize she is brilliant and deserving of a momorable mention. You rock mom!

Why has the Supernanny never covered the "Java" technique?

For years and years, I have been decaffeinated. It started just after college when I was having horrible stomach issues. An ultrasound showed no issues and the doc's recommendation was to eliminate trigger foods one at a time to possibly identify the problem. It turns out, the offending food group was caffeine. Flash forward about 10 years, one year post-gallbladder-removal and I can enjoy a nice cup of coffee again without doubling over and weeping. Who knew I was such a delicate little flower and could detect an issue before it even shows up.

So last night my husband was out of town on business. Whenever he has these trips I always talk them up in my head. "I'm going to relax after the kids go to bed. Maybe I'll catch up on Lipstick Jungle and Project Runway. Maybe I'll pop in some Sex and the City DVDs. The possibilities are endless!" What actually ends up happening, invariably, is that I work well past my bedtime. Last night was no exception.

I typically like to hit the hay around 10:30 PM. We'll just say I saw AM on the clock before turning in this morning. And as luck would have it, five minutes after getting into bed I hear "Mommy...Mommmmy....MOMMMMMY!!" It turns out the little one wet her bed. :-( I take responsibility because I must have forgotten to ask her to use the potty before going to sleep. Poor kid. I'm kind of pleased I was still up, though, because I was better able to care for my little pee-pee princess with loads of compassion. She was lucky there was extra space in my bed. And believe me when I tell you she used every inch of her allotted amount and some of mine.

I don't recall actually sleeping last night. The alarm was set for 6:00 AM. I set two just in case one malfunctioned. I woke at 5:50 and decided to lay in bed until I heard beeping. What a glorious ten minutes of sleep that was.

Promptly after getting out of the shower, I indulged in a very large cup of freshly ground and pressed coffee. With its assistance, I was able to pack a lunch, get us three girls dressed and fed, and walk this whole crew to school. I was cheerful and efficient. And that's when it hit me. Coffee helps me be a better parent. Sure I'll pass out in a few hours once it's out of my system. Sure it gives me horrible breath for that "one last kiss" before school. And then there's the issue of stained teeth. But it's all good. For today anyway... Tomorrow is Saturday and I'm hopeful a few extra winks of sleep will alleviate the need for my new parenting crutch!

[photo courtesy of http://scienceblogs.com/retrospectacle/2007/08/science_vault_coffee_as_a_cure.php]

Random thoughts about the new fall season of TV and cavities

Mom confession here... I couldn't be happier that the new seasons of my favorite shows are back on. Suddenly my DVR is humming again with quality television rather than reruns of Dirty Jobs. No offense, Mike Rowe. You're a hottie. I adore you. It's just...well...I'm read for chic shows.

This afternoon I'm sitting here, attempting to work, but I've been drawn to last week's episode of Lipstick Jungle. Truth be told, I'm not even sure what channel or night it's on. Without my buddy, the DVR, I'd be stuck watching Judge Joe Mathis or Maury because the only time I can watch a few minutes of my TV is in the afternoon while my younger daughter is "resting". And by resting, I mean sitting in her room, singing, reading books, running around in circles and playing with the doorstop. LOL

I swear we're still adjusting to the new school schedule. My mother-in-law is visiting for the week and I just told her that I can't imagine what summers will be like now. I feel like we're running all the time. How can we go from that to absolutely nothing. Blissful. Nothing. But I bet the kids will be bored within 10 days!

We've got dance class on Monday night, faith formation on Wednesday and I have meetings on Thursday. This week I have meetings tonight and we'll have company on Friday. We've gone from quiet and routine family dinners every single night with rare exception to feeling like a week has gone by without so much as a salad between all four of us. I used to say "folks just need to make it a priority. I can't imagine not eating together!"

Well here I am with yet another plate of fried crow. With that I'd like a side of baked crow because on Saturday we discovered that my older daughter has four cavities. FOUR CAVITIES. I must not brush her teeth, right? She must eat candy non-stop. She was left with bottles of formula or milk in her crib. She must have ten cups a day of Kool-Aid. I must be clueless about dental health and nutrition. But just for the record she brushes twice a day, eats candy once or twice a week max, she was breastfed until she was 15 months old and probably had 10 bottles in her life none of which were while she was trying to sleep and has never had Kool-Aid or soda, for that matter.

Anxiety about the upcoming fillings and guilt about our lack of flossing have made this quite the emotional event for me. Heck, even my hubby has been down about it. Needless to say we've started a stringent flossing program for both daughters. Friday is the big day and I'm nervous to see how it goes. I'm hoping to not project that on the patient!

In search of nanny to put up with my child(ishness)...

I'm humored by this article about a mom looking for a nanny. She describes her children as "a pain" and says "I can be a tad difficult to work for. I'm loud, pushy and while I used to think we paid well, I am no longer sure." *insert eye roll here* I think someone has seen too many episodes of the The Real Housewives of New York City and is prepping to apply for a future season.

She goes on to mention how she stacks her dishwasher and challenges her new nanny to keep up with her own passive aggressive tendencies. The lucky children in her care are being forced by their mother to endure it as it's a job requirement.

The woman who has accepted this position committed to one year with the family. It's either an extreme case of idealism or self-loathing. God bless the children and the nanny.

It's fun when adults throw up the white flag of acceptable behavior and ask others to tolerate it. My favorite quote is, "if you suspect all wealthy women are frivolous, we are not for you." LOL By blogging about it, I'm only feeding the huge attention appetite.

Good luck, folks! Tell the countess and Ramona I say hi!

Guilty Mom Syndrome

My daughter (almost 4) just told her Bitty Twin that she has to go to work now and the Bitty Twin started to "cry". "I want to spend time with youuuuuuuuuuuu!" she wailed in a voice that sounded just a tad higher pitched tone than her "mother's".

Ironically yesterday we had a conversation about daycare. We were at the vet getting one of our dog's many meds when we heard a child crying for his mommy. It was coming from a daycare center across the street. Daycare is a foreign concept to my kiddos. My older daughter literally went three times as a four month-old and that was it. I do work, however...like 30 hours a week as a writer/researcher/community manager from home. So while I'm physically here, I'm not always mentally engaging with my kids.

I'm cringing as I watch this dramatization of a working mom continue. :-( This one is suddenly feeling pretty darn guilty.

An interesting, but consistent, phenomena

No matter what time in the morning I get up and think I'm going to get something done, one of my children gets up. My older daughter has been struggling to get up at 6:30 for kindergarten. Last night, neither my husband or I slept well. We tossed and turned, inexplicably...and not in a good way. *wink wink nudge nudge* By 5:00 AM he was in the shower. By 5:20 AM I was out of bed also, even though I could have slept for another hour. We were just simply up.

I made a cup of coffee and cut up a pear. I sat down and thought to myself, "I can knock out a little work and watch Project Runway, one of my not-so-guilty pleasures.

Within five minutes of turning on the TV (quietly, I might add) my older daughter comes walking out into the living room. *sigh* This was at about 5:40 AM. Now, at 6:40 AM she's complaining that her belly hurts, she's tired and shouldn't go to school.

*whine whine whine* Unless I leave this house, there is no alone time for mommy.

Good grief, how hard can it be???

I'm writing in pure frustration this afternoon. Our living room has had a multiple of furniture configurations and we've been to maaaaany stores in the past two days searching a new set of sofas, love seat/sofa combo or sectional. We've been to a few stores twice. We're exhausted.

I've decided that on one hand there too many options out there. On the other, there are not enough of exactly what we want. The couch I *now* think we're settled one is one that my hubby swore just wouldn't do yesterday. ???? I can't decide if I think I wore him down, he genuinely changed his mind or he's simply delirious.

My house is a mess because I've completely neglected it in lieu of shopping and measuring full-time. Our couch, two chairs, two end tables and a random dining room chair is in the shape of our new set, but looks ridiculous. I'm waiting for a call back from another sales rep regarding the order time. It seriously takes three full months for a couch they make a million of every day to be covered in one of the five fabric choices they offer? I can have the very light beige fabric within a few days. I'm leery of that, though. We have a black dog and kids who are fairly dirty at any given time. It's nice, just too darn light. When she calls back, here's my pitch. "Is there anything you can do to get this sooner than three months? We're deciding between this and another set at another store and it's this wait time that will make our decision for us." That's not entirely true, but it sounds good.

Ay yi yi. I don't know if it's the three day weekend of full-on family time, an excessively messy house, indecision over couches or P/MS, but I'm at the end of my rope. I want to go into a cleaning craze that takes me through bedtime (read that to mean my husband makes dinner, cleans it up, gives the kids a bath and puts them to bed). *deep breaths*

What's my loyalty obligation here?

This afternoon my family embarked on a task I should have tackled on my own - furniture shopping. Let me paint the picture for you.

Our couch and chair were purchased used for $150 in early 2000. At that time, it was at least 5 years old, but in good shape. It is fugly, but was a good deal and we were poor.

Since then it has been peed on, puked on, laid on by a smelly big dog, had Cheetos eaten on it, milk spilled on it...the list goes on. To me, despite being cleaned many times, it feels sticky and smells. I basically want to burn it.

From a previous shopping trip, I had my heart set on a beauty of a sectional at Ethan Allen. It would run about $5000. And while I know that's a bit pricey (a bit? hahaha), I thought hubby was on board. I already threw all other brochures, measurements and cards of sharky furniture sales people since we had reached a decision. As of yesterday I have learned that he was only like 35% on board. He's a good bluffer.

Inspired by all of the "No finance charges until 2013!" commercials, we headed out this afternoon to test out a few additional models.

Despite our pre-entry pep talk, the girls skipped, bounced and ran from couch to couch, narrowing missing expensive lamps and plaster statues of frogs sitting atop ship wheels. They flung themselves over ottomans and laid on sofas with little sandals comfortably perched up on the arm. Threats were issued. Energy levels waned momentarily but eventually perked back up. It was only until we were really done in one store did our sales associate want to sit and chat at a group during which my older daughter almost fell asleep. To me, that's actually a sign of a really good couch!

Anyway...silly us moved on to another store where we were greeted by another vulture...er...sales associate. Funny enough, I really wanted some help. When he asked what we were looking for I said, "a sofa or sectional with a deep seat and high back." He replied, "Oh, okay. Well I don't want to be on top of you, so I'll let you folks walk around on your own." Gee thanks.

Twenty minutes later he found us to hand us a flier with some special deals on it, and was gone in like 15 seconds. That was it.

I ended up calling him later to ask the measurements on a few pieces of furniture and that conversation went something like this.

Him: "Which collection was it?"
Me: "Chamblee"
Him: "Chandler?"
Me: "No sir, Chamblee"
Him: "Can you spell it?
Me: "Sure. C. H. A. M..."
Him: "F?"
Me: "M as in Martha."
Him: "C. H. A. N..."
Me: "No, M as in Martha."

GOOD GRIEF!

This went on for a few more minutes as his first repeat back of the fully spelled word had an R and F in it. WTF?

When he came back to the phone with the measurements, his first question was, "When are you planning to purchase this?" *sigh*

So my question to world out there is what my loyalty obligation is here? To be honest, I think we are going to buy a few of the pieces from this collection. I don't particularly like this guy. I can't imagine dealing with him through a purchase process. I certainly wouldn't want to address any bumps in the road that may come along with ordering and having it delivered. I'm a patient girl, but I really thrive when dealing with competent people. This guy is falling a little short of my mark. Okay, a lot short. But can I be brazen enough to walk into the showroom tomorrow, and yes, he'll be working 9:00 - 9:00, and buy the furniture from another associate? I don't want to wait until a day he's off because their great financing deal ends tomorrow. I'm in a pickle!

Good news! Another Deceptively Delicious recipe review!

Yesterday my older daughter started kindergarten, and let's all face it. Nothing helps the hurt of a baby girl going off to school like chocolate cupcakes. I thought it was just me until she went there during her Sunday afternoon "but I will miss you!" breakdown. That's when I realized, no matter the age of the woman, chocolate is the ultimate mood enhancer.

This is how it went.
Her: "I don't want to go to school."
Me: "Oh honey (really sympathetic), why?"
Her: "I am afraid I will miss you." eyes filling with tears
Me: "I will miss you too, but I feel really sure that you'll have so many fun things to do tomorrow that you won't be thinking about me very much."
Her: tears spilling out onto her curly hair framed cheeks "But I will miss you."
Me: "How about we plan to do something special when you get home. Sound good?"
Her: immediately perks up a bit. "Ummm, how about we make chocolate cupcakes?"

That's my girl! And what a perfect opportunity to break out my favorite cookbook, Deceptively Delicious. I knew there was a recipe in there that would be perfect!

After my princess got home, flushed from excitement from her first day, we broke out our food processor and stand mixer. I was in kitchen appliance heaven!

My girls watched me scoop out four avocados, dump them in the food processor, puree then dump a full cup of it in the stand mixer. They fought over who would put it in the bowl. They clearly knew it had green in it.

The rest of the ingredients were pretty healthy. Flour, cocoa powder, sugar, egg whites, vanilla...and balsamic vinegar. Yeah! What's up with that. Though like a good Jessica Seinfeld fan, I added it blindly trusting.

We licked the bowl, like the normal people we are, and it was good! We baked according to the directions, let the cupcakes cool and YUMMMMMY! They were delicious! I topped them with strawberry flavored Cool Whip and if I wasn't trying to eat like a good girl, I would have polished off the whole batch already!

And in case anyone is wondering...my tooth still hurts. Thankfully today we're just down to transient pain, which I learned is pain that results from stimulus provocation. Basically, it's sensitivity to hot and cold. Since about Thursday until last night I was in pain constantly with a dull aching. It's nerve related, though, as all teeth from the one filled (second from the back on my upper right side) to my front teeth on the top AND bottom hurt. I just had x-rays so I know, for fact, all of my teeth are not rotting. *sigh* Friggin' dental work.

Five more minutes

My life is like a sitcom. Seriously I could write a good stand-up set with my every day experiences. Today's excursion - the community pool.

We swam. We met up with friends who swam with us. We talked. We laughed. We swam some more. Yet as we neared noon, my little one started to grump up. First there was a few minor instances of whining over who got the ball thrown to them. I should have known right then and there to give the two minute warning to departure. Instead, I ignored and forged forward with our "good" time.

Several minutes later there was an outburst from that same little grumpus. She yelled at her similarly aged friend, "I don't like you!" because said ball either came too close or not close enough. I'm still not sure. Yet, again...this should have been my sign. It was time to go. Still, I swam.

Tick tock tick tock. Lunch time was approaching. Rest time wasn't far after. Still, I swam.

I gave an official "five more minutes" and got out of the pool to start picking up our toys and drying off. My older daughter, who had swam miles and miles in her delight of being able to do so without "swimmies", obediently exited the pool and sat, with her head down, on the picnic table. I thought she was going to doze off right then. Little one refused to get out of the pool.

I packed up and called to her. I threatened with the "I'm leaving you here if you don't come". She stayed in the pool. I yelled. She stayed. I did the talking through gritted teeth thing. She stayed and yelled at me. I threatened, "If I have to get back in the pool..." leaving the rest to her 3 year old imagination. She stayed, yelled and then scowled. I'm certain by this point everyone was giggling. Our friends promptly left, probably afraid to witness what was about to happen.

I kicked off my shoes, dropped my towel and swiftly sank into the pool like a shark pouncing on some prey. I took her little hand and dragged her to the stairs. She cried despite not being actually harmed. I took off her swimmies, did some talking about how she'd never be allowed to come back to the pool and something about being put in time-out until she was 32.

I put her and her sister in the car, We drove home. She immediately went into the shower. Ten minutes later I told her it was time to get out. Nope. "Fine two more minutes." Five minutes goes by, "It's time." Nope. Hello?!? Lather, rinse, repeat? *sigh* God help me when she's 15. That's all I have to say.

Excuse me sir, my parents left me but remembered their luggage

As reported by MSN, an Israeli couple, along with their five children were on their way to Paris for a family vacation upon a charter plane. Forty minutes into that trip, the flight staff informed them they were short one kid.

It seems in all the hustle and bustle they were able to keep up with 18 pieces of luggage, duty-free goods and four of their five children. Unfortunately their three-year-old daughter got so far lost in the crowd that her family had left the country before her absence was noticed. Evidently Home Alone isn't a popular movie in Israel.

Let me not throw too much judgement as when my own children were babies, I'd have honest-to-goodness nightmares that I was out somewhere and left them in the car, on the car, in the store, in the house...you name it. I guess I was stressed about missing a details, albeit an important one, in my role as a mom. So I'm sure this incident was a true nightmare for this family and their little girl. I'll bet they'll never lose her again. And thankfully it appears all is well now. The children continued on the next flight to Paris accompanied by an airline staffer. The parents returned to claim their daughter. I can't help but to wonder...how old are the older kids? Because short of about 18, I'm not trusting an airline employee with their safety in a foreign country for any length of time. No offense to airline employees, of course, They are very likely outstanding folks. I'll hope so for the purpose of this family as they cared for all of their children at one point or another on this trip. But, yikes! Is anyone else envisioning Macauly Culkin making that face where he puts his hands on the sides of his face? "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

After a full day's work, we have success! Who doesn't love a tax-free weekend?!

After spending in excess of 8 cumulative hours shopping personally and another 3 or so for my husband, I have a theory. We've all been swindled by this tax-free weekend business. The government suffers the loss to tax income while stores jack up the prices because they know we'll buy based on the guise that we're getting a deal in the absence of sales taxes. That's why I did all of my shopping last weekend when I paid full sales tax but got a deal, dammit! (...what a joke!)

This weekend we hit Gymboree for approximately $185, Haggar for $45, Brooks Brothers for $100, Belks for $145 and Nike for $30. We definitely fueled the American economy. And given the size of the crowds, many others did as well. 'Cause I'm proud to be an American, for at least I know I'm free... :-p

With all of this shopping came three pairs of tiny shoes. Two pairs of Mary Jane's and one pair of sneakers. In total, I'd estimate that we tried on no less than 30 pairs. I, personally, only tried on 2 and had to talk myself out of both. What finally ended up in a purchase was what I thought was a defunct trip to Belk. Their shoe section was in horrible disarray. I chose one pair of shoes that weren't even in a box. I thought what I saw out was what they had. The scene looked like a crime scene. Single shoes out of boxes laid strewn here and there. Boxes without lids littered the floor. Women rummaged through the piles like they were at a garage sale. I almost walked away before even looking. Little did I know...there were more in the back!

Like an angel from heaven, a kind, grandfathery-looking salesman asked if we needed help. I almost hesitated asking if he had any other sizes anywhere. We'd already been at this for a few hours and I was tired. I mustered up the energy, though, and hoarsely asked in, what must have sounded like, a desperate tone. Unbelievably he said they did.

We had that sweet older gent hold two pairs for us while we hit *one more store*, I later returned alone, while Grandma and the girls enjoyed a Strawberry Julius, to make the all-important purchase. Choirs of angels sang.

One last stop before collapsing at home was to the Nike store. Note to self - never ever leave this store as the last stop in a busy day. The aisles are narrow, there is next-to-nowhere to sit to try on shoes, it's crowded and the rap music is a *tad* too loud. It's overstimulating and hot. Yet, surprisingly, we were still able to crank out a quick purchase. The sneakers made my daughter run faster in her eyes, and as memory serves me correctly, that is the criteria for a good-fitting pair of new sneakers.

So we're home now. I've had several glasses of wine. One daughter just put in a mis-matched pair of pajamas. The other is happily playing in the tub with her Polly Pockets. I'm looking forward to hitting my bed in as little as 40 minutes with a cream puff or two, another glass of wine and perhaps a funny movie. I can't decide yet if I'll go with Wedding Crasher or Talladega Nights...but really, can you go wrong with either?

Buenas noches, mis amigos. Tax-free weekend has come to an expensive end for another year and I'm beyond fatigued. Damn shame I didn't need a wedding gown as they, too, were sans income tax. Hmmm...maybe I should have rethought our anniversary plans for next weekend and dreamt up something that involved a little white number by Vera Wang. ;-) Seriously, it would be dangerous if I ever decide to renew our vows. We had a beautiful wedding but were both 22. My wedding at 30something would be *quite* different.

Thoughts on parenting an "adult" teen from the mom of preschoolers

It seems like an oxymoron doesn't it? An adult teen? Yet, my family falls into that fun category. My brother's younger daughter is 19, living at home, causing her parents all kinds of heartache, yet legally an adult and theoretically not subject to their rules and opinions.

Let me preface this whole post by saying I love everyone involved, dearly. Dearly! And I fully admit that the best parenting expert is someone who has no children. In this case, it's someone who has no teenage children.

As I observed it, my niece, who is beautiful and brilliant, needle her parents with some valid issues and other things that were out of left field. It was humorous to watch her debate because when someone (me) who was unemotional and methodical about it asked tough questions she immediately went to a line of statements like "it's not my fault my parents had me." and "it's their job to deal with me." To me, that was the equivalent of throwing up a white flag of surrender.

As I tell my brother all the time, I'm just taking notes. One day I will also have two teenagers who will drain the color from my hair and elasticity from my facial skin. I fully expect the desire to take up smoking and drinking as a means of stress relief as daily massages and facials are too pricey.

Today I watched my sister-in-law fall into every trap my niece set. Each thing was like worm on a hook and my poor sister-in-law was a big trout, chomping at them all then sitting in silence and stewing. Her digital camera had photos of my niece smooching a guy she met while visiting. She showed up later than planned to say goodbye to the family before they left to go home. Her new "friend" slid into a comfort level with our family that made me...well...uncomfortable. My brother said he was a very confident guy. I wonder if it was actually insecure putting on a good act because before she left my niece was convinced he had a lot of money despite working out Outback and driving a 1998ish Corolla with heavy body damage and no hub-caps. No judgement, though. I was young once too.

They have a 12 hour drive home today. My brother has always preferred to drive through the night. I scoffed...I would just get too tired. Today I gave him credit for his strategic planning. Twelve hours between the hours of 6:00 PM and 6:00 AM gives him at least a few hours of silence as his wife and daughter break from fighting and sleep. The man is a genius!

So what notes have I taken during the past 7 days? Here's a synopsis.

1. It's really important for parents to be on the same team.

2. When kids cross over into the age where they are making independent and adult decisions, there is little you can do to control them. The best you can shoot for is guidance and suggestion.

3. I have lived to regret some decisions I've made. My children will do the same and while it'll hurt and there will be disappointment, that type of experiential learning is priceless. It can't be prevented even if it sucks.

4. Rules and standards have to be finite and concrete. A child, legally adult or not, need to know, understand and adhere to them. Adult children who refuse too are making a choice to not live with us any longer.

Sometimes I think it's not fair that my older brother has to be my teacher as it seems that his struggles turn into my guide book. His lessons learned are paid forward, I guess, so they aren't for nothing. I just wish I could repay him for all the free schooling. Note to self - if I ever win the lottery, he gets a cut!