Sunday, June 26, 2011
I feel that I’ve written about napping a lot. However, no one seems to understand.
I’m not dancing around the elephant in the room. I’m not speaking in soft, dulcet tones. No people. I gotta go for it. And talk about THE NAP
I work. Well, sorta.
I run our business. At home, in my dirty yoga clothes. (And btw, why aren’t they called Pilates pants. I don’t actually DO yoga.) But I’ve taken you down THIS road before. See my Bathing Blog . .
I do go into the office on occasion. And then I look very nice. No seriously. And I smell fresh too.
Oh wait, digressing again.
I can work with a consultant, run a conference call, make major financial decisions, run a complex marketing program, develop and instrument an acquisition plan, all from the comfort of my own home. I give EXCELLENT phone.
Let’s be clear. We don’t have a dining room. Seriously. I have a huge office with a giant desk, credenza, office machines, two little girl desks, big plants, giant wall calendars. We eat at the kitchen counter. Or outside. (Hey, this was supposed to be part of the Palm Springs lifestyle. What doesn’t get mentioned is that it is too cold to eat outside 4 months of the year and too flipping hot 6 months of the year. But for 2 months, we can dine outside. And let me tell you, it is HEAVEN!!!)
And like every other mother, I coordinate soccer schedules, ballet rehearsals, costumes, uniforms, music teachers, after school activities. (Not play dates. I hate play dates. They are sooooo much work dealing with everyone else’s kids . . . I mean calendar.) http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
I set medical appointments (unfortunately, I see lots of Doctors and so does my little Glowie … see Fuck you Mr. Doctor , and Glowie’s BD ) I schedule many different summer camps (it turns out my family doesn’t do so well with lots of unstructured free time. And Mommy does need to work – even if it is done in bad clothes.)
I sit on a committee for the County of Riverside, I’m the Site Council president and I do occasionally attend a PTA meeting where I decide I’ll never do this again and write another check.
I manage all the people it takes to keep my house running. Everything is broken all the time. Hey, we are accountants NOT contractors. We can’t fix shit in our house. Water heater, electrical issues, air conditioning, hard wood floors popping up (what the hell is that about?), and of course, we are putting several plumbing contractors’ kids through Ivy League Universities. Not cuz we are generous like that, but cuz we like our toilets to work. #divas
To say nothing of the pest control people and the carpet cleaners. Three big dogs, two kids and my carpets all have piddle stains on them. Which I have the carpet people come and clean. And the piddle stains come back in two days.
And there’s blogging. And Twitter. (Thank God. Ok, only on the days where people say nice things to me.)
So let’s get back to where I started.
I try to lie down during the day. For an hour. Or more. Instead of napping I am typing this.
But if you call and say wanna go to lunch? I’ll probably say no, I’m very busy.
But really? I’m Protecting The Nap.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
I may have overdone it.
But then the thought of spending endless amounts of unstructured time with my kids creates a blowback experience in my mind. By “blowback” I mean there is internal screaming. Oh wait, you could hear that? #oops
So in my compulsive, over-fanatical way, I scheduled summer. Cuz hey, it’s Palm Springs . It will be 115 out most days. I can’t just say, "Go play outside and leave Mommy alone." There’s that whole second degree burns on their hands from the Swing Set issue.
Two weeks of Museum Camp. (Kinda pricey, but they keep them from 9 to 4.)
Then there is a special Outdoor Classroom Camp thing at the Aerial Tramway. That sounds cool. Literally. It is 30 degrees cooler at the top of the Tram.
Then there is Band Camp. Sleepaway camp for Blondie and her saxophone. One week.
But what do I do with Glowie that week? Find a sleepaway camp? Put her in Parks and Rec camp? Without intense structure and ongoing social stimulation, Glowie won’t survive. Which means, neither will I!
Maybe she could do a three night sleepover at someone’s house? Someone that I never want to speak to again. Cuz they won’t be talkin’ to me after that.
We are doing a mountain getaway over the 4th of July. At the lake, with the dogs, and our friends. Not restful, but busy. We like busy. Well, I like napping. But with two kids, three big dogs and friends . . .
Then they are both going to sleepaway camp in August. It promises to be the highlight of my year life.
And during our August mountain time, there is a UK Soccer camp. You know, where you drive 45 minutes to get to a camp that lasts three hours. Just long enough that you should drive home. Where you go potty, have a cup of tea for 30 minutes, then get in the car and go back to pick them up.
I could buy a car for what this summer is costing. Well, a used car. With a lot of miles. And old. Very old. But nonetheless, a summer schedule is not free.
But being on the go? It’s better for our kids. That whole sitting around the house, coming up with creative ways to entertain themselves? That always leads to a lot of yelling. And mess. I hate mess.
Or video games and TV. And that makes me feel dirty after the first few days.
And the only thing I like dirty is my martini.
Bam. I’ve got a plan. Bam. I’ve got a schedule. Bam. I’ve got multi-colored markers on the calendar. Bam. I have to go lie down.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
The pressure really became unbearable.
Within a one week period in May, we had: a field trip to Sea World, the annual fund raiser for the elementary school (Spaghetti Night anyone?), two piano recitals, testing for my youngest (you know that Educational testing? It is four 2 hour testing sessions. I tried really hard to be Nice Mommy so she would go into the testing in the best mood possible. THAT was exhausting.); oh, and two birthday parties to attend. Which I was good with, cuz now I keep a couple of Target gift cards in my desk and say: You wanna go to the party? You had better MAKE A NICE CARD!
But wait, my compulsive list-making isn’t over. Cuz the NEXT week? We had four nights of full dress rehearsal for the ballet performance, an awards ceremony, a band performance, and the actual two days of the Ballet Show itself. Where, by the way, these little girls with all this make up? They sorta look like little sluts in tutus. Oh, and the special Walk to School Day sponsored by the County of Riverside, which I headed up.
There was the day when I logged onto the school website and saw that Blondie had a C. In Social Studies. Then there was my breakdown where I, let’s just say, over-used my vocal cords and developed an eye twitch. (The missing homework was instantly found!)
And not that anyone cares about MY schedule, but we had an All Staff full day meeting that week which I facilitate; my husband was out of town on business for two days (yeah right, it was the ONLY time he could go), leaving me to pull it all together, and then a special Award Ceremony for Volunteers. (I volunteer to stay home from the award ceremony!) AND!!!! It was the last episode of Oprah EVER! Which means I had to schedule that afternoon off my calendar to lock myself in the bedroom with tissue and a pitcher of Moscow Mules.
So really? School being out? Flipping Heaven.
Until I really think about it.
Cuz though I could use a break from all the pressure?
I could really use a break from the kids.
Summer Vacation. #shit
Sunday, June 5, 2011
I had a birthday recently. Uh, yes. Another one.
I had a very fun weekend with friends. But I always tell people – don’t get me presents. I know this is shocking and not at all in keeping with my greedy needy personality. Here’s “Why”:
1) I don’t need another scented candle.
2) I do love chocolates, but they make me fat…uh, fatter.
3) If you give me a gift, then I have to write a thank you note. It’s the law.
I don’t want to write a thank you note. I would rather you just hang out with me. (Cuz I AM fabulous company.)
4) I have enough stuff. I really do. So unless you can help offset my giant house payment on my upside down house . . .
5) For my 50th BD, I asked people to donate to my favorite charity. No one did.
So enough already. I’m old, I’m set, I don’t need more stuff.
Until I received the BEST GIFT EVER from my former Nanny.
A nice white box comes. I’m sure it is for my daughters. But I open it anyway. Cuz I’m the Mom and I can.
But, what is this? Do I see a single roll of double ply Northern Toilet Paper? Why, that is my favorite! And I do have a defining Life Philosophy which says: You can never have too much Toilet Paper stockpiled in Case of Emergency.
And underneath that? A bag of Cheetos?
I peruse the rest of the box with Orange Tipped Fingers.
Pop Tarts. Check.
Rosarita No-Fat Refried Beans. A staple for any healthy eating plan.
And underneath that? The special orange slice candies. With the word “Enjoy” written all over the container.
All wrapped up with a Loving Card.
Now THAT’s a great Birthday Gift.
There’s a gift that keeps on giving. (I’m referencing the toilet paper here, not the Cheetos. They are long gone.)
That was a present that made me feel seen, known and loved.
That’s better than a scented candle any day.
And I didn’t have to write her a Thank You note.
Just an email that told her I loved her and I missed her, cuz she really knew what mattered to me.