Not An Actual Marathon, But It Almost Seems Like It

Whoo! I am worn out. I feel like I’ve been operating in overdrive for the last five days. Like I’ve just run a marathon. I spent the weekend cleaning because I got some bug up my butt telling me I should dust and vacuum. Everything. Right Now! It’s a sick ritual I keep falling into. Every once in a while, I get irritated about something and then I feel like taking my frustrations out on dirt and grime. But I really hate cleaning so halfway through I get pissed that I’m cleaning while everyone else is just laying around or (worse!) continuing to dump toys on the floor. But by then, I can’t really walk away from cleaning because I’m already too far into it to stop. When I finish, I feel really good because A: I’m in a clean environment, which always makes me feel relaxed and B: I’ve worked out all of my frustrations. But then, within a day, toys are scattered all over my floor again and I wonder why I even bother. That’s the trouble with living with kids other people I guess.

Then, my daughter recently had a birthday so we took her a place called “Incredible Pizza” to celebrate. Just the four of us. (We’re trying to get her away from having parties every year. She’s 11 now so I think it’s probably time.) For those of you that aren’t familiar with Incredible Pizza it’s like an arcade on steroids. It’s very similar to Chuck E. Cheese, but it tries to attract a larger demographic by having more games and attractions that are more suited for older kids and adults, while still having plenty for the younger ones to play with. They also have a really large unlimited buffet that you can eat at the entire time you are there. (Yes, we have actually done both lunch and supper with playing in between the two meals before.) It’s a pretty cool place to go. Unless, of course, you’re like me and don’t really enjoy large crowds. Well, that’s not true. Large crowds are sometimes okay. It’s the large crowds of children that I don’t like. The only saving grace is that this place is large. The building used to be a large grocery store, so they are able to spread things out a bit. We were there nearly five hours and by the time we were ready to leave, I had just about been worn down into the ground.

Allow me for a moment to get on my soapbox. Grownups, I know that places like these are not always fun for the adults. Especially when you have a number of children that you are responsible for. I would much rather sit at my table the whole time too. I even had a really good book in my purse calling my name. And I also know that you cannot always keep your group together. Please, when you allow your children to go off without you, teach them ahead of time what is acceptable behavior. Kids that are twelve should not attempt to play on the toddler playground climbing equipment. It’s called toddler for a reason. Kudos to the boy who saw his friend getting ready to climb and was smart enough and brave enough to tell his friend, “My dad says we can’t play on that.” Kudos young man and I salute your dad. Job well done, sir. And grownups, do not allow young children to play without you. That’s just asking for trouble. Plus, they are not old enough to understand and/or remember said acceptable behavior. Also, when playing with your children, do not allow them to do whatever they want even though you are right there next to them. Standing on a moving car ride is not a good idea. I know you told your child to sit down but after he didn’t listen the four or five times you said it, maybe you should just yank your kid off the ride. It’s not going fast and he’s not even buckled in. I know that he’ll probably cry. I know it costs money to ride, but don’t worry about the 30 cents you’re wasting by not getting a full ride. Chalk it up to a learning experience and have hope that next time, he’ll stay sitting. Finally, adults and children, when going through the buffet line, do not pay more attention to the music that is playing and for the love of God, don’t dance while you’re picking out what food you want. Next time, this tired, hungry mama might go ape shit on your ass and no one really wants to see that. Especially my family. They would be mortified. As would I. I really do want to keep up the façade that I’m an easy-going person. Thank you.

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An example of indoor toddler playground equipment

Now I know that all of you, my lovely readers, do not need the instruction that I just provided. But I am sure, in the course of your days, you will run into people that do need the reminder. I don’t expect you to tell another adult that they should be doing something differently when it comes to their kids. No one likes getting unsolicited advice. But I just had a brainstorm. Maybe you could make up an event that would illustrate why their kid should not be doing whatever it is they are currently engaged in. Take this for example. When I saw the mom with the kid standing up in the car ride I could have said to her, “You know, I heard a couple of months ago at some other arcade, a kid was standing in a car kinda like that one and he fell out and got his foot caught in the gears underneath. I guess it really messed up his foot.” Well, maybe not. I wouldn’t have the guts to do that and I’d probably get called out on the story. But it’s pretty entertaining in my head! So I guess you don’t have to do anything, but maybe chuckle a little to yourself and remember that I went through the same thing.

So anyway, back to my weekend. My parents and Hubby’s mom all wanted to come over so they could give their gifts to Drama Queen. (I’ve decided that I need to give names to my family on here, so my oldest is now Drama Queen. Haven’t come up with a name for youngest yet.) My parents showed up about an hour after we got back home, which allowed me just enough time to tidy up the dishes from the morning and disaster still remaining on my kitchen counter. (Which apparently is oftentimes mistaken for a catch-all. Not only does it collect junk mail and other various papers, but also books, tools, toys, and whatever else we happen to be carrying as we walk by it.) Hubby’s mom came about 40 minutes after my parents. My parents left about seven o’clock, but then mother-in-law didn’t leave until quarter till eight. So it was a rush to get both kids into the bathtub and into bed. Needless to say, there was no time for me to make a cake or make cupcakes for Drama Queen to take to school. And I didn’t get my laundry done.

Monday was a mad rush to get my exercise at the Y in and get home to get laundry going. Monday night I got the cupcakes made and frosted and got finally got Drama Queen’s birthday cake made. It’s a chocolate lava cake and definitely one of my favorites!

Today I had to get Drama Queen to school early for her band rehearsal, get a quick trip into Wal-Mart done, and drop off the cupcakes at her school (preferably before school started so she could just stop in the office when she got to school after band.) I was already feeling stressed by the time school started because I did get the cupcakes dropped off beforehand (read: ran through the store like a mad woman, throwing everything into my cart in order to get done as fast as possible), it was raining and really cold and windy, and Drama Queen spent too much time not getting dressed and was late for rehearsal. (She left the table to go get dressed and 15 minutes later I went into her room and she was still in her pj’s!) But that’s how she learns, right?

I also had to do more laundry today to completely catch up. I open up the dryer to get the first load out and I see a pair of earbuds that came with a cell phone and can be used as a “hands-free” device. Shit. As soon as I saw them, I remembered putting them in the pocket of this flannel shirt that I washed. Clearly I didn’t think about checking the pockets. Oh, who am I kidding? I never check pockets! I know I should, but it takes enough time getting all the laundry done. It’s not like I use them very often, but sometimes I use those for my computer instead of my mp3 player earbuds. Now I’m afraid if I try to use them again they will short out my computer. Or shock me. I’m going to ask Hubby if they’re worth saving or if I should just throw them away.

We also cut the eggs of our first clutch tonight. Today was they day we expected them to hatch, so when we reach the expected hatch date, we snip a small slit in the egg so the snake has an easier time getting it’s head out. I can’t wait to see what we have inside this clutch! This is the most exciting part of breeding snakes.

But now I’m seriously ready for some rest and relaxation. I don’t know when that’s going to happen, so I guess I’ll just look forward to some quiet time in the cardio room tomorrow. I think Drama Queen has to go in early again tomorrow though. They’re really upping their rehearsals because the concert is coming fast. That could interfere with my plans to get to the Y. We’ll have to see how well I can plan this out.

Remembering My 21st

In honor of the day, I thought I would share the events of my 21st birthday.

 

My oldest sister and my sister-in-law were taking me out for a “night on the town” in celebration of my reaching the legal drinking age. (In reality they were just excited to get away from their kids for a night, as was I. Although they probably were excited for me too.) But the three of us were looking forward to having a girl’s night out and all bets were off. We had arranged for us all to meet at my brother and sister-in-law’s house where the kids and the men (my brother and my brother-in-law) were going to be staying while us ladies got our grooves on. We opened a bottle of champagne and toasted to a fun night out, then made sure the kids were starting to eat and doing okay before we set out for the night. My brother was our designated driver and he delivered us to our first stop for the night, a restaurant and bar that we all enjoyed. We were like three school girls being dropped off by a parent the way we giggled and rushed to get inside. Even the warning from my brother to behave ourselves was reminiscent of childhood.

 

We went inside and were seated and ordered our drinks. Beers all around! My sister-in-law, who worked part-time as a bartender at this bar, made sure our waitress knew that it was my birthday and that I got carded. Every. Time. They hooted and hollered because they thought it was the funniest thing ever to have happened. After our meals were eaten, a number of beers consumed and after we verified that the guy I was hoping to run into was at work and would not be coming in that night, it was decided we should move on to our next stop for the night. My brother was called and a short time later he was outside waiting for us.

 

I was already getting pretty buzzed so coming down the flight of stairs to get outside to the parking lot seemed to be very tricky. I went reeaally slooow and kept my hands on the wall on either side of me to help me reach the bottom. (Who puts an entire flight of stairs in a bar? Don’t they know someone could hurt themselves trying to reach the bottom after drinking?) Anyway, my brother was waiting and we all piled in. The plan was to go across the river and go to a cool, happening bar in the bigger town. (Which coincidently is the town I now live in.) Apparently my sister-in-law had been there at some point, while my sister and I had never been there. Or even heard of it. But we figured she was the expert since she lived in the area.

 

It was a bar on the fourth floor of a building and we had to ride an elevator to the top. For some reason that still doesn’t quite make sense to me, there was an elevator attendant for this building. Now, this is not a fancy town, and it definitely was not a fancy building. It was actually pretty crappy and run-down looking. But we didn’t question it and just continued acting like the silly women we were. We reach the floor and open the door to the bar. I was expecting a room full of twenty-somethings and cool music with lots of dancing going on. In actuality there were only about eight other people there and they were all like 40. (And I know 40 isn’t old, but when you’re expecting a hip young dance club, 40 is ancient.) Even worse, there was only one couple on the dance floor and they were both, well, huge. And they were grinding against each other like a floor-buffer on hard wood. Okaaay. Turns out the last time my sister-in-law had been there was roughly 10 years prior. We sat down at the bar and my sister starts badgering the bartender asking if he knew how to make cosmos. He says he does not. (Good rule of thumb, if the bartender doesn’t know how to make something, order something else.) She gives him a quick lesson in the art of cosmo mixing and he delivers our drinks. (More beers for me and my sister-in-law.) They tell him that it’s my birthday and that he should card me. He does (while my sisters shrieked and laughed like hyenas) and then gives me a free shot. I drink it not knowing what the hell it was. It must have been something girly because it tasted yummy. My sister says her cosmo isn’t as good as she’s had before, but she continues to suck it down. And then orders another. By now, she’s raring to go and she wants to dance. Like Really. Wants. To. Dance. Dancing was not high on my list of priorities because the placed sort of creeped me out. And the other couple were still on the dance floor. Finally I relent and we go shake it on the dance floor. I was so self-conscious because some of the few people in the bar stood along the edges watching us. Great. Not long later, we sit back down and order more drinks. This time my sister decides she can’t drink any more of the inadequate cosmos and orders beer. But then she wants to dance again. Worse than before. She grabs the back of my bar stool and starts jerking it back, trying to shake me loose from my seat I guess. Suddenly, there is a bouncer standing behind us and he tells her she needs to calm down or he’s going to kick her out. Oh my god, the humiliation. She stops yanking on my stool, but the bouncer doesn’t leave. He just stands behind me with his big arms crossed across his chest.

 

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I’m completely freaked out at this point and my sister-in-law and I decide now would be a good time to call my brother and have him pick us up. We finish our drinks and walk to the elevator. Once inside the elevator, my sister starts digging into her purse for money because she wants to tip the elevator attendant. My sister-in-law and I both keep shoving her money back into her purse and finally hold her hands so she’ll stop. We had to continuing telling her to keep her money in her purse. Over and over again. She’s totally hammered. We get outside and my brother is there waiting. We help my sister up into his truck and he starts laughing, telling her, “I thought we were going to have to help Hannah into the truck, not you!” We roll the windows down (even though it’s early March and cold) to make sure she doesn’t get sick in the truck.

 

We get home and my brother half lifts her out of the truck and practically carries her inside his house. Her husband is waiting inside and when he sees her, the only thing he can say is, “Oh boy. I thought it was Hannah.” (Why is it that everyone thinks I’m going to be the one who gets out of control and won’t know when to stop?! I was a responsible adult even at the age of 21!) He takes her down to the bathroom to change her clothes. My sister-in-law and I sit there for a minute or two. She says to me, “It’s not even midnight yet. Do you want to head to another bar?” Not ready to have the evening end, I say yes and we leave again.

 

It wasn’t nearly as much fun as when it was all three of us (partly because we kept thinking about how sick my sister probably was back at the house.) We only had one more drink each before coming back. The last thing I remember from that night was my sister sitting on the bathroom floor while her husband tried to prop her up. It was definitely not a night we care to remember, but one we’ll never forget. Oh my poor sister. It was not one of her finest moments. But I still love her.

Call It Tough Love

My 30th birthday is getting so close I can practically touch it and it’s been bothering me. I’m not ready to turn 30. It feels like I’m losing my youth. My opportunity to do those wild and crazy things that 20 somethings do. That later in life can be written off as “Oh well. I was twenty whatever and didn’t know any better.” Well, now I can’t use that excuse any more because I do know better. From the time I was 19, I knew better. Babies have a way of changing how you act.

 

I’ve already sort of talked about this here, so I won’t dwell on it.

 

But two weeks ago, I had a series of texts from one of my sisters that lead to a revelation for me. One that I should have had a long time ago.

 

A: You turn 30?

Me: yes

A: Oh yeah, you’re so old…ash turns 30 this year too. I turn 43. What are you complaining?

Me: I didn’t get to live my 20s!!! And now they’re gone.

A: Boo hoo. I actually accidentally spelled boob. *niece wants blood and carnage. (They were at a hockey game.)

Me: Why does she want blood & carnage. (Not connecting the conversation to the hockey game until later.)

A: I drank too much tequila.

Me: I can tell.

A: lol

 

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When the conversation was happening, I was a little pissed off that she was being so insensitive about my feelings. But then I realized she was right. (If you’re reading, gloat while you can. I may never admit it again! Haha) And I wonder if she would have said they same thing if she hadn’t been enjoying the tequila maybe a little too much. Knowing her, she probably would have. Because sometimes you need a dose of tough love to make you see things clearly.

 

Eventually I came to realize that life is full of choices. And those choices will forever change your life. But those choices brought me where I am today. I probably would never have met my husband if I hadn’t had my daughter. Which means I never would have found someone that I love so completely and who also loves me back! I never would have had my son. I never would have had a lot of things. And really, my life is pretty damn good. Naturally, there are bumps in the road, but nothing we haven’t been able to handle. And everyone has bumps along the way. I suppose that’s what gives you character. You fall down, get back up, and brush yourself off. And are better because of it.

 

Who knows what kind of person I would have been if I hadn’t been a mother at such an early age. The past is behind me. Now is the time to embrace where I am and look forward to the future.

 

Plus, hey, the bright side of turning 30 is that I get to join Studio30+, right?

Just Call Me Selena (I Guess)

Well, okay, maybe not. I’m still Hannah. (In real life.)

 

But, I did it. I took the plunge. I am officially in a role-playing group on Facebook. It’s scary. Intimidating. My stomach starts to hurt when I’m about to post a comment. (I’ve talked about this group before.) But I decided what the hell? It really means a lot to my sister for some reason and she came up with a character that sort of fits me. Her name is Selena and she’s a human (my sister plays a demon) that owns a mystical/tarot card/fortune telling shop in New Orleans. I’m into that in real life so that helps. But now I really have to study up on my herbs and stones and incense because I don’t want to be inaccurate. Like I said in my previous post, the other people in the group know these characters better than I do and my limited knowledge of the mystical and magical will only get me so far.

 

So, I’m taking it slow. I did a little with my sister chatting with me telling me what to write. The next time, I didn’t need as much help from her, but she was on the chat with me to give me encouragement. But today, I think I’m going to try doing it by myself. I’m making cheat sheets of how people are related to me and what herbs and stones and oils are good for what. (I’m such a nerd that way. Research, research, research.) Luckily, I have plenty of books already that will help me and I’ve found some good websites too. I’d better get big time ‘sister points’ for doing this, because it’s outside my comfort zone. Totally.

 

I don’t know if it’s my impending birthday or if it’s you guys here and my blog or what exactly, but I feel like I need to keep pushing myself away from what’s comfortable. Constantly pushing and testing my limits. I can’t forever spend my whole life being a shy timid person. What kind of life is that? If I stay boxed into myself, I’ll end up as the little old lady that never leaves her house. And I don’t want to be that. I want to travel. I want to have fun! The last eleven years haven’t had enough fun in them and I plan on making up for that when my kids move away from home. So I have to start small now and keep stretching and molding myself into someone who doesn’t shy away from challenges and new experiences.

 

 

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It’s kind of like yoga. (Which today was my third class and it’s still nerve-racking, but I am really enjoying it. And someone actually talked to me today! Shocker!) Anyway, you start small and keep stretching yourself and eventually you are able to fully reach a position. Then you move on to a new position that tests you and you keep working at it until you’ve accomplished it. I really feel like I can do this. I’ve already started doing so many little things in my life that even a year ago I never would have done. I’ve started exercising (in public!), started this blog, posted comments to complete strangers and not worried what they thought about me. I’ve even stood up to people in meetings that don’t agree with what I’m saying and I didn’t back down. I didn’t get my way in the end, but at least I voiced my opinion instead of fell into line with everyone else.

 

I’m beginning to realize that I don’t have to be afraid. I’m don’t have to be ashamed. Everyone has made mistakes in their lives. Most people are not going to judge me on my mistakes. And those that choose to look only at my mistakes and not at how I changed and learned from them? Fuck ‘em. I don’t need them. I have plenty of people who love me for who I am today, not who I was 10, 15 years ago.

 

And if someone doesn’t agree with my ideas or choices, that’s okay. I don’t have to let it bother me. I don’t have to have everyone’s approval about everything. As long as the people I care about the most stand with me, I don’t give a shit what some stuck-up, stuffy, elitist bitch thinks.

 

I really had no intention of this becoming a self-affirmation post of any kind, but these things have a way of evolving all on their own. I feel good about myself today. I feel strong. I don’t know what it is. But I’m practically brimming right now.

Did I Miss That Day in Sex Ed?

You know, the day where the teacher described, in detail, just how hard parenting is. Wait, what? That wasn’t in my sex ed class? Huh. Well, it should have been because had I gotten a taste of just exactly what parenting was like, I think I would have stopped and tried a little harder to cool down my hormones. I’m not talking about taking the computerized baby home where it’s programmed to wake up at two in the morning or cry for ten minutes inconsolably. Although, that’s a great idea (but one that wasn’t offered when I was in school). I’m talking about the times when your three year old starts screaming in a store because he wants to walk instead of ride in the cart, but wants to grab or touch everything. Or the times your teenager gives you attitude and talks back. That’s what needs to be taught in sex ed class.

A friend of mine and I were talking about this very subject. We think we should be the ones who go into schools and give presentations to high school kids. Tell them exactly what they could end up with. Bring video tape and show them what those cute little babies that they think won’t be so hard to take care of, turn into. Hellions. Smart-mouthed, think they know more than their parents, pains in the ass. Tell them that their kids would turn into THEM! I know. My daughter is turning into exactly what I used to be. Except she’s doing it at 10 instead of 16.

It kills me when people tell me how great their kids are. I can’t help wondering if it’s true or if I went terribly wrong with mine. Or even more confounding is when teachers or other adults tell me how good my kids are for them. I’m glad they’re good for other people, but why for other people, and not at home? Don’t get me wrong. I love my kids and don’t know what kind of life I would have had if I didn’t have them. But they can make me crazy! And yes, I get it. They have good days and bad days, just like adults do. But sometimes I wonder if my kids act up just to drive me nuts. But, still, I love them terribly and there are days when I wouldn’t trade them for anything. And then there are the bad days…

I read a blog on here by Simple Dude (funny guy; kinda reminds me of my husband) where he talks about a friend of his that got married in his early 20’s. (Read it here.) He mentions no should get married young because you’ll always wonder what you missed out on. I would like to add having children to that statement. I had my first child just after I turned 19. My 30th birthday is less than two months away and I am having a hard time with it. I don’t want to turn 30 because I feel like I haven’t lived my 20’s yet. I didn’t get to go to wild college parties, stay out all night and go out for breakfast before crashing, or even try to pick up guys in a bar. I was at home, taking care of a baby. My friends tried for a time to get me to come out and do all those wild crazy things that people in their early 20’s do. But I had to say no because I didn’t want to be one of those “teen moms” who left their kid with their parents and did whatever they wanted. I wanted to be responsible and mature. So, eventually, my friends stopped calling. But on those bad days I spoke of before, I will sit and wonder what I missed and try to imagine what my life would have been like had I made different choices. Maybe that makes me a bad mother, but it’s hard not to wonder.

But, getting back on topic.

I think scientists should get to to work on the whole time travel notion. Or maybe not time travel, but the ability to show people the future. Sort of like Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. Except not with ghosts, but just be able to type a name into a computer and bring it up on a screen. Show kids what their life would look like if they had a kid too young. Now that would be some good birth control!