My "crappy" weekend

here's my weekend in a nutshell:

• Washer backs up and floods garage
• Call AHS who calls plumber
• Plumber comes to fix
• Instead of fixing, he blocks whole house water line
• Oh no! Plumbing bursts, toilet overflows
• Sewage in bathtubs and showers (disgusting!)
• "Oops" says plumber, "can't fix til next wed" (Oops? come again? 6 days without a toilet?? Call me regular!)
• Home warranty won't pay (of course they won't!)
• Plumber says we have roots in pipes along with some serious backage. (uh yeah, thanks for clearing THAT up for me b/c I was wondering)
• Estimates 3,000$ (no problem b/c we have that kind of $ just lying around)
• No running water (shower, toilet, washer etc)
• Did I mention nasty "shit" tubs??
• Stay with friend (bless her heart for politely offering because we jumped on it). Nice house, big enough for all of us. And she has stairs (like I can't handle some of those?? Trust me I will tie this plot point into the story in just a second.)
• Get up early to meet a different plumber at house at 6 am (PS we love Roto Rooter!)
• Wake 5 year old up - but alas he will not wake from the land of wonder
• Carry son down flight of stairs (hey - Ive been working out to Jillian Michaels 30 day challenge for 5 days now. cant be that hard, right? WRONG!.)
• Trip on steps (because hey - they should not be there - right?) and fall down a flight of stairs
• Poor boy slams head on chair - I'm now convinced his brain is bleeding and he has a brain injury.
• In trying to stop him from getting more hurt, I sacrifice my left hand to break the fall.
• Husband rushes to son's side - "WT hell Shelli! Sounds like an elephant coming down stairs." - except he says it with English accent so it sounds much more polite. (Me - Gee sorry! so I'm up a few pounds - sew me!)
• Daughter looks horrified 
• I follow her gaze and notice my left hand. (enter 'first sadistic thought that popped into my head' here - "thank goodness its not my typing hand!" ;)
• Fingers pointing in directions they should not be pointing.
• To prevent her from entering therapy at age 9, I quickly pop them all back in myself (we'll do anything for our kids) and say, "Everything is fine. Everyone is okay."
• Seconds later, I drop to floor sweating and wailing: "I think I'm going to be sick. I'm going to pass out. Does son have brain injury? Wait, I think I broke my hand!"
• Hubby's loving response: "He's fine. The plumber's coming in 10 minutes."
• So I'm faced with a choice - deal with shit toilets or go to emergency room for broken hand????
• We go home and wait for plumber.
• Decide to keep both kids home for "post traumatic stress disorder"
• 3 hours later we finally go to urgent care
• No broken bones but 2 dislocated fingers (could have told you that 3 hours ago!)
• Must wear splint - can't write :(
• come home to front yard dug out. 
• Pay plumber 2500 - only to hear him say "other guy was wrong. there are no roots in pipes just a blockage" (WTF!) 
• wasted 2,500??
• Call home warranty and threaten lives
• Stubborn blockage remains - what the hell is in there a dead body? (run inside to take notes on writing new book with a dead body in pipes)
• Still "no toilet until Monday"
• Weight options? hotel, stay with friends, face dangerous tripping stairs, stay with parents...?? Oh God.
• Never mind - we order port o potty
• Hubby wants 50$/week portopotty (no way, that's for cavemen! we are civilized people)
• I get the Cadillac of all port-o-potties (call me spoiled!) for 150$ a week (total now: 3000$ plus 150) What a bargain!
• We get a VIP with flushable toilet and sink, running water, light, key/padlock to prevent any unnecessary break ins (hey you never know) and the ever so needed accessory so you can witness yourself in a port o potty - a nice little mirror. :) (moving on up and living in style!)
• port o potty delivered Friday night right around the time everyone comes home from work and people start jogging.
• Let's hide it in side yard - I mean we can at least be discreet in our nice neighborhood of 2.5 kids 
• Can't get it up driveway (of course they cant!)
• Must sit it directly next to---- (wait for it)--- the mailbox on street (talk about going postal?)
• Family forced to endure total humiliation by trekking out to mailbox to do business
• People jogging by (me waving with toilet paper in hand Top of the morning to you!) (but trust me - I had urge to grunt when people walked by just to get a laugh! :)
• Needless to say the dog walkers probably got TMI.
• 9 year old comes in (after "doing #3" she says) and yells, "THAT was NOT fun!"
• Brother calls - Im coming into town.
• hour later. A Guest arrive. "Welcome to our Happy Can!"
• Plumbing finally fixed sat night.
• Sat night prayer - "thank you lord for modern plumbing!"
• Sunday - goes to use bathroom. Our toilet not working. (I swear Im not lying)
• Hubby goes to store and buys cheapest toilet for 88$. (wait what? the port o potty was better than this!)
• "Why did you buy plastic toddler toilet?" His response - "Because it was cheap."
• I return to Lowes and buy regular toilet for hubby to reinstall. Sue me for wanting a nice toilet! 
• Week dishes backed up. Run dishwasher.
• Week of laundry backed up - Load clothes washer and...wait for it.
• Clothes washer broken!!!!!!!!!!!! Doesn't work. Are you freakin' kidding me?
• Call AHS who calls plumber to come out.
• Yes, everything in life somehow comes in full circle.

Good times :)

The Grinch Who Stole EVERYTHING from a little boy.

On Sunday, my parents brought down an electric train to go around our Christmas tree. They found it at a store and knew my kids would love it.

You see, my 3.5 year old son LOVES trains. I think he even wants to be a conductor when he grows up. He was thrilled when they walked in with the box. His eyes lit up and he jumped around. I think he even squealed.

Until....

We told him that it was for him AND his sister so they both had to "the s word" --- SHARE.

Then, the devil took over my beautiful angel boy who is usually the first to say "Thank you", "Please" and "excuse me."

Now, Devil turns to my parents and asks them to take back the train.

I was mortified.

I asked him to thank his grandparents for the train --and he REFUSED. So, I told him he was not allowed to play with the train until he showed some manners. He proceeded to have a hissy fit asking my parents to take back the train! So I calmly walked him to his room and told him to stay there until he wanted to come out to apologize to --and thank --my parents

2 HOURS LATER - my son still REFUSED to be polite and was actually very rude. This was not your average kid just not saying thank you b/c he was shy or tired or didnt know better. He was mean.

My parents ended up leaving, my son ate dinner in his room and went to bed quietly, while I stayed up and steamed.

What kind of child have I raised that he would be that blatantly disrespectful?
Why was he doing this?
How do I teach him to be grateful?

The next morning, my son woke up and... what do you think he wanted to do first?
.....you git it....play with the train.

Grinch - "I'm sorry but you will not play with the train until you call and thank mimi and papa. do you understand?"

Son - "Yes."

Grinch - "Do you want to call them so you can play with it?"

Son - "Not yet."

This went on for a couple hours.

Now, I am not the strictest of parents. I tend to talk my kids to death and listen - probably too much. But the way my son was behaving was unacceptable to me. I tried to explain that no matter what people give us, we need to be grateful b/c they are thoughts wrapped up in gifts.

So I say: "If you cant be grateful for gifts, then you are going to lose other privileges. Every half hour until you do."

Son (while shrugging) - "Okay."

Grinch: Do you want to call mimi and papa so you dont' lose anything?

Son: "No"

This unsuspecting threat started the beginning of the end of this loooonnnggg day. Let me say upfront that I had NO IDEA the will power of this child, especially a 3 year old. I really did not think he would make it for 3 minutes after I took his trains or cars out of his room. I was sure he would cave.

So - in hind site - I've learned - be careful what you threaten b/c we all know from Dr Phil and Oprah that if you SAY you are going to do something, you HAVE to follow through with it.

So - my son was sent to his room because his sister earned a movie that he was now not allowed to watch. He started playing in his room - happily.

Meanwhile 30 min after that, I began to remove things from his room. All the while steaming mad, grumbling to myself....begging him to make the call...praying to God that I was not going to have to empty the room because then I would have to clean it all up!

(for those tallying - we are now at about 3-4 hours now, not including the 2 hours the night before and it is about 11 am. Oh yeah, and for the record - I am already exhausted due to daughter having strep throat all weekend and me fighting a tummy virus. In a nutshell - I am NOT HAPPY!)

About an hour later -- --my son comes out and hands me a couple of toys.

Son - "Mommy, you can take this one."

At this very moment I lost it. Mommy left my body and the Grinch took over.

"That's it. Forget every 30 minutes. You lose everything until you can apologize for your behavior and thank mimi and papa!"

I began taking EVERYTHING out of his room. Toys, 200 books, Christmas decorations, broken crayons, stuffed animals, even dust bunnies were tumbling for cover. Side note: Not to mention I realized how dirty his room really was - even though a cleaner comes in every other week. Its amazing what you will find when you clear a room.

I dont even think I left a light bulb. I was the Grinch who stole EVERYTHING. I literally was chunking stuff over my shoulder into the hall repeatedly saying"I cant believe you're making me do this." Tears fell and yelling commenced. It had been 4 hours at this point and I wanted this to end so I could put my sick kid and the Devil in front of the TV so I could rest my tummy.

The hall way was now impassable. So I fall over everything to get into kitchen and try to calm down.

Grinch (face red instead of green) : "Don't come out until you are ready to be polite and grateful for your things! I will slip your food under the door. I will break you!!!!"

Now maybe this sounds harsh to you. And for the record - I have never claimed to be mother of the year. But besides the fact that I forced a kid to stay in his room with nothing - just because he didn't thank someone or was rude isn't the real problem. Because believe me - at this point I am wishing I could take it all back and sing Kum Bah Yah with my kids holding my hands.

The real problem? I said this is what I was going to do so now I am backed into a corner. I either follow through or lose control of kid forever and he becomes total psycho and doesn't respect authority when he gets older. probably in jail. Yes that might be extreme but that is where my head was in the moment. Definitely in a state of insanity.

It was not about "Thank you's" anymore. It was now a "battle of the wills". This was setting a precedent for other issues to come.

Hubby says while sitting in lush office at work 30 miles away. "I don't care what happens, don't cave. His entire life is riding all on your shoulders. Stay strong. I gotta go take some clients out to fancy lunch. Have a nice day.

Grinch - "Eat some lobster for me."

Daughter said: "What is wrong with Gray? I've never seen him do this. He's crazy. I'd never take it this far. Especially with my toys."

So - where were we. Oh yes. 3.5 year old sitting in a room with four walls, a flat pillow, a bean bag, and a few scared dust bunnies.

How long do you think he lasted with NOTHING?

Do you know he sat in that room for...4 more hours...

yes a 3.5 year old held out against his mom with NOTHING (not even a bathroom or bread and water) for a total of 7.5 hours!

I've never seen my son take anything even close to this far. For 4 more hours this kid came out 1,000 times, tried to sneak toys back in his room, threw a car at me. It was insane. It was exhausting. I was baffled.

I was like a lion trapped in a cage, pacing back and forth in front of hall door, staring at my clock mumbling (and probably drooling with insanity), "I cant believe this. What am I going to do" over and over and over. For 4 more hours.

At 3 pm (this started at 6:30 am) , I slumped into a chair and sent in reinforcements - yes - my 7 year old daughter. She wanted it to stop as much as me.

Daughter - mom can i go talk to him?

Grinch - "Sure honey. See if you can stop this insanity."

Daughter goes to see incarcerated son - "Gray, mommy is sad. Mimi and papa ae sad. Yo need to stop this craziness. It's gone too far. Please please, say you are sorry and think you so you can come out and play with me."

15 min later - he comes out and yells with a big smile on his face (as if he's ready for a baseball game or a trip to get ice cream.) "Mommy, I'm ready." This is after me sitting and talking, begging, yelling, taking things away. His sister begs him to stop so she can play with him and he does just that.

He called both my parents - apologized and thanked them for the gift. And his day went on as if nothing had ever happened. me? Nervous breakdown and emotional eating.

So what did I learn from this?

1) My will power sucks - After watching a 3.5 year old hold out 7.5 hours - I realize that I can't even go a day without chocolate. Not to mention, I was just about to crack when he did.

2) Once again - my mothering capabilities. Do you know i scoured all my child raising books during this 7.5 hours and could find nothing of help? Who do you turn to?

3) I am convinced my son was a monk or a hobo in a past live - someone who fasted without food for days and could stare at blank walls for 7.5 hours without going insane.

4) my son looooooves his sister.

5) my son has made all Tauruses proud.

6) I am in trouble when he is a teen. let's hope my daughter's will power is much weaker.

7) Never EVER EVER say you are going to do something unless you think through the consequences. Unless you can truly back it up WITHOUT going insane. You never know how far your kids are prepared to go.

It might just be further than you think.

Tell me - have your kids held out for a long time like this to stand their ground? Have you taken everything to prove a point? Please tell me I am not the only one.

RIP Bud - The Best Dog-Gone Friend

A Dog's Prayer

To Those Who Love Me

When I am gone, release me, let me go-
I have so many things to see and do.
You must not tie yourself to me with tears,
Be happy that we had so many years.
I gave you my love, you can only guess
How much you gave me in happiness.
I thank you for the love you have each shown.
But now it is time I traveled alone.
So grieve awhile for me if grieve you must,
Then let your grief be comforted by trust,
It is only for a while that we must part,
So bless the memories within your heart,
I will not be far away, for life goes on,
So if you need me, call and I will come.
Though you can not see or touch me, I will be near.
And if you listen with your heart, you will hear
All my love around you soft and clear.
And then, when you must come this way alone,
I will greet you with a smile and "Welcome Home".
-author unknown

Dear Bud -

Thanks for the memories. For all the times you dried my tears. For the times you made me laugh. For the times you made sure I was not alone. Thank you for 16 years of happiness and loyal friendship. I will miss you sleeping by my feet, comforting me on rainy days.

When I had no one, I had you.

It's time for me to release you so you can go be free. Free without pain. Free to live a young life. Free to be with your best friend, Connor, again.

I love you and will never forget you.

I admit: My son is processed

Now that things have slowed down. I promise to get back to my regular blogging schedule next week. A Marketing post on Monday's and the Round Up on Fridays. And a whole lot of crazy in between. I know you all are not coping with out them so never fear. :)

Today, I'm going to regress and talk about something personal.

My freaky eater.

My processed son.

(And don't let this picture fool you. He's a little devil:)

Now, I had no idea what a picky eater was until I birthed one. I used to watch SuperNanny and Nanny 911, laughing evilly at the parents who could not get their kids to eat. Mwwwhhhhaaaaaaa.

Then my son came. Wow! I had no idea how stressful it was. I don't care who you are when your kid doesn't eat, and is a little bony, and his Dr. is on your case to get him to gain weight - its' stressful.

My first child, my daughter is an amazing eater! I guess I did everything right. By the book. Introduced veggies before fruit. Let her try one at a time. Gradually added in stuff. No juice until she was 2. No eating in front o f the TV. Now, (thank goodness) she will eat anything, better than me. She will try anything once and she loves fruits and veggies.

Then there is my son - the Freaky Eater.

Now, first I have a disclaimer. I don't know if you've watched the new show on TLC called Freaky Eaters. If you have a bad eater, watch it. It will make you feel so much better about your own. I started watching it thinking "Great, other people are freaky eaters too. Maybe I can learn something from them."

Well, I was wrong.

Those people eat paper, raw meat, or out of date dairy all day every day. One person only eats beans - glad I didn't marry him! (am I right girls! :) Oh, come on what's a blog post without at least one fart joke!)

So knowing my son is not a goat or a t-rex, makes me feel a little better. Though I think a goat would at least not complain or might mow the grass. (note to self - get a goat!)

So my son is after all NOT a FREAKY Eater. Though I'm pretty positive he's 100% processed.

Why?

WARNING: If you do not believe in processed food or think it is the devil or even only serve organic foods, the rest of this post may give you a total heart attack!

That's all my son eats (and I don't want any comments about what I'm feeding him!!!! I'll be forced to delete it out of sheer guilt and embarrassment.) There are problems that led us here.

First - his weight was low, worse - his BMI. (Yeah, I barely knew what that was too until my son was processed) He's been at 90% height and 20% weight almost his whole freaky eater life, which also puts him in the bottom 3% for a low BMI.

To add to it - in the beginning, he had really bad reflux. That didn't help. Then he had tonsils the size of Mount Everest. Seriously like he used to choke on them when he ate. It was horrible. Problem was - Drs would not take them out b/c he was so underweight so he had to gain weight first. Then, we were told to do what it took to get him to eat. That's when the TV and the "what do you want to eat" policy was put in place. To top it off, my son also has a "sensitivity" (which means there is nothing we can do until he grows out of it) to wheat and dairy so we have to limit those things everyday. Of course - what do you think are the 2 things he loves most? You git it - cheese and bread. By minimizing dairy or bread - he gets hardly any fat unless its crap food. Hence low BMI.

Sigh - you see where I'm going?

That - my friends - was the beginning of the end for my son and his relationship to anything anything grown that is green, yellow, red or orange. (See this cookie is blue. Than again,don't be fooled. He's not eating the cookie, he's only picking off the sprinkles.)

His favorite food and lifeline seems to be crap. Not REAL Crap - of course or he would be on TLC. But crap food. (Hm, I wonder if they pay? Note to self - check into sublimenting income by exploiting sons bad eating habits)

So over the last 2 years, my son has lived off of chicken fingers, fish stix, meatballs, string cheese, snacks, and breakfast food. Makes it hard to figure out lunch and dinner.

Let me say here that when it comes down to forcing your kid to eat healthy or getting him to get on the weight curve. You do what it takes and hope you don't cause massive brain damage or watch him take the form of a large donut.

After ruling out anything mental or physical - we are told. He's just a picky eater.

Now in the last few months, all of this has really started to take a toll on me. I dreaded dinner, dreaded picking him up and emptying his lunch box, dreaded the nights where he cried about being hungry but wouldn't eat. Dinner is a war and trust me - I am NOT even WINNING a battle. I've become so guilt-ridden that I dream about him eating. Seriously, then I wake up and stay up researching. I would cry, beat myself up,and stress out anytime food was within his reach. Hiding behind corners, watching, praying he eats. Then I'd get mad at him, yell. Make him take a bite. Nothing was working. I'm positive Super nanny is going to come pounding on my door and tape me yelling at my kid over food or shoving it down his throat. Then, everyone in the world will see me and think - "man, she's crazy."

Just to give you a taste, here is a snippet of a conversation that seems to occur very frequently.

Him: "I dont want to eat."
ME: "Okay."
HIM: "But I want to eat."
ME: "Okay what do you want? chicken fingers?"
HIM: "No, I dont like chicken fingers!"
ME:"You love those."
HIM:"I want meatballs please."
MOM makes meatballs and serves them on a fun tommy the train plate. Because who doesnt want to eat more with thomas?
HIM:"Buuuuuut, I wanted chicken fingers."
ME (pulls hair out): "How about a donut?"
Him:"But i dont like donuts."
Daughter: I'll take a donut."
ME: No honey, you eat healthy. You don't need a donut. You and Gray have to eat different things.
Her: That's not fair.
ME: Tell me about it.
Him: No! Sissy doesn't get a donut. I get a donut.
ME: You said you didn't want a donut.
MOM hands him a donut.
HIM: I want an apple
EVERYONE in family looks at each other and scrambles around to find an apple, whispering about breakthroughs and miracles.
ME (in tears) - I'M out of apples. :(

So now - I cook something and that's it. If he doesn't eat it - he goes to bed hungry. Which is harder than it sounds esp. if he wakes up in middle of night hungry and crying. I know it's probably just a control thing. I know that intellectually. But emotionally, I see a kid who has an issue with food that I'm hoping he outgrows when he leaves the toddler phase.

And yes before you ask - I have tried every fruit veggie, fruit juice, veggie juice, and possible snack known to man. So no need to even suggest any. Trust me, we've tried...everything.

Now, just to be clear. I am not saying my son is just a regular picky eater who will only eat junk food, yogurt, chicken fingers, fries, and bagels.

I'm talking even worse - the kid who is a RANDOM SPORADIC PICKY EATER. Which means I can't depend on ONE food to make him happy. It changes with the wind, with the time, with the hour. So that means, NO DAY is good unless we get lucky even if I give him what I know he will eat. Because we never know.

My son is the one who loves chicken fingers one week - hates them the next. One who will eat waffles only if cream cheese is on it. One who REFUSES to eat donuts unless they are white. (Seriously who refuses a DONUT!) This picture? Him complains about ice cream! I know....crazy. Definitely MY kid!

I know - don't ask.

I've gotten every advice possible, read every book. I'm doing it all with very little progress.

Now this may surprise you, but I actually wasn't here today to talk about my picky eater. This post is actually a tribute (stay with me) to Traders Joes.

Why?

Because now I can get somewhat-healthy processed or canned food and not feel 100% guilty. (only 50%) Spaghettio's - check! all natural, low sodium. Chicken nuggets? Check! white meat with no hormones. YOU want meatballs? Check! Cheese crackers, check check check!

I still have the problem of "Will he eat it?" But at least if he does, it's healthier.

Not to mention, Traders Joe's is cheap. So thank goodness, I'm not spending much more money than I was on my cheap Kroger card brands (which BTW have so much high fructose corn syrup, it should be illegal. See I do know what's healthy).

Now, I don't stress out as much. I just pop in some natural multi -vitamins and some healthy processed food in - for my son (NOT) to eat. I also found a special apple juice with no sugar (he loves apple juice) that is combined with Carrot juice. He still drinks it. (SSSSShhhhhhhhhhhh don't' tell him or I will have to kill you.)

To all you moms who are horrified at the fact that my son's weekly intake of fruit and veggies consists of spinach pretzels at Barnes and Noble and yogurt raisins (no he won't eat the chocolate or plain ones). I'm so sorry. I am completely horrified too.

Thanks Trader Joes for having affordable healthy processed and canned food that does not cost me an extra house payment. (Don't get me wrong I love whole foods but I can only afford one apple there a week ).

TJ - Thanks for allowing a mom to find a healthIER option for my processed son.

Who yes, was born in a bag and stored in the freezer section.

Maybe even grew up in a cereal box.

Now, if he only came a prize.

DogGoneDays

Today is supposed to be a post for the Bookanistas but my heart is a little too heavy for it.

My dog, Bud, is not doing well.

My dog is losing his spunk, his zest for life, his bowel function when he sleeps, and he can barely walk, see or hear. The one thing that keeps me filled with hope is that he still eats and steals food from everyone. I always felt as long as he was eating, he'd be ok.

I always prayed I would not have to make a decision regarding my dogs' passing. I mean it's not my job right? Its not in my human job description. But as my dog withers away, I'm faced with the question -

how do you know when it's time to let go?

I'm conflicted. I dont want to help him pass out of this world and into another - out of convenience or even too soon. But I also dont want him to suffer in any way.

A couple years ago, my boxer went quietly into the night. He was fine one day, the next morning my daughter and I found him in his bed - he had died in his sleep. Besides seeing both my grandparents die when I was little, I hadn't faced death in a long time before my dog. At least not with anyone close to me. At the time, I took my Boxer's death hard. I had NO idea he was leaving us - he was happy the day before - and I felt like there was so much left unsaid. So much love that I hadn't shown. I felt guilty that I hadn't given him tons of time the days or weeks before b/c of the busyness of being a parent to young kids. Yet at times, I was thankful he didn't suffer at all. That he had a peaceful transition.

Since that day, I've coddled my Jack Russell (who has been mine for the last 15 years) for the last 2 years. I wanted to be sure that if to be sure everything was said that needed to be said.

But now, as part of me wants my dog to move on to a happier place where he can run and stay young forever, the other part of me is afraid of making the decision to let him go. Since this has really been my dog, my husband feels (rightly so) that it is ultimately my decision. But anyone who knows knows I cant make this. I cry at commercials. I cry when I hear sad stories on the news. I cry at songs, books. And any sign of anyone or anything suffering - whether it be a dog or other animal, I lose it.

So my question - how do I know? Everyone says I will but I am wondering if that is really true. I dont think we actually know when it's a good time, I just think we come to accept that its time. But what if i make the decision and not only do it too soon, but regret it for the rest of my life. Then what? I can't take it back or do a "do-over". I have to live with that forever and wonder if I did the right thing.

I pray every night that a higher power comes in and transitions my dog before I have to make a decision on my own. Yet then I feel guilty for cutting my dog short of what could be some extra time on this Earth with me.

I'll never have a dog like this one. He was my first dog. I'd grown up with cats my whole life. My ex-fiance bought him for me in 1995 and he has been a good dog. Bud has stood by me through thick or thin. He's traveled across the country in a carry-on dog bag with me. He's driven thousands of miles with me. He licked my tears when my heart was so broken that I wondered if I'd ever be the same. He moved to the beach with me for a few months and it was just he and I and the water. He filled a space that some didn't care was empty. He was there when I got married, when both my kids were born. He was by my side helping me recover through surgeries, sadness, and loneliness. Always with a smile on his face.

Any dog we ever get again will never be just mine. Will never be the same. because you see no matter what anyone says, you can never love a dog the same after kids. Its not that you love them less, its that you realize how much you can love something more.

So I feel like I'm losing more than my dog when he goes. I feel like I'm losing a piece of me, my history, my past, my innocence, my youth. A piece that will never be the same.

I'm reminded sometimes of his funny spirit and how full of life he has always been until now. Jumping, smiling, playing, barking, scratching, jumping, eating, playing jumping eating (did I mention jumping?). When I first saw him among a litter of Jack Russells, I knew he was spunky and the one for me. He came running around the corner, bouncing like a jack rabbit with a very tiny stick in his mouth. While all the other puppies milled around my feet, Bud was the only one that demanded I give him all my attention. Clawing and begging for my attention. For me to take that stick and throw it to him. For me to share a moment with him.

And he won.

Now as my dogs spots seem to fade quickly so does his strength. And with that, so does my hope that he can stick it out just one more year. So does my hope that he too will go quietly into the night.

And in comes the reality that no one or no thing lives forever. Yet everyone and everything will live on.

I could use any advice if anyone has gone through this.

Thanks for listening. Sorry about the heavy post. I'll be back and peppy tomorrow :)

Donut Days from Hell

Saturday was not a good mommy moment for me. Another #mommyfail to add to my long lists of #mommyfails.

So this past Saturday after my husband leaves for work (yes on a Saturday! But we wont get into that in this post) I decide to take kids for a donut run.

Donuts + kids = happy times. Right? WRONG! Donut + kids = Disaster waiting to happen.

Let me set it up for you

(main character tip: you must get the reader to sympathize with your Main Character so they care about the story and stick with them even when they do things the reader may not like)

Background/History
(Backstory tip - don't do it unless it is critical to the story - This is so it's appropriate)

Here's mine - My kids have been out of camp for a couple weeks. After an exhausting week at LA, my dad having major spinal surgery, and my daughter being out of camp the same week. We spent the week at the hospital and American Girl getting her ready for school. Then when she went back last week, my son was out ALLLLLLL last week. Meanwhile, I am fighting a nasty cold and my hubby had visiting clients, therefore was forced to work long hours. All of this = NO REPRIEVE.

Needless to say, after the intellectual drain of LA SCBWI, the emotional drain of watching my dad, the financial strain of American Girl store, I was weak. Tired. Tapped. And over the week, I started to feel like my kids were slowing chipping away at my mommy armor, complaint by complaint, need by need, want by want. My invisible force field was weakening.

Mommy Offense #1 - Lacking in necessary equipment
(creating conflict tip - its important to provide the conflict up front so the reader is pulled into caring how the conflict is resolved. )

For the record, I do not have the latest model in the huge line of Mommy Force Fields. I have a very (VERY) old model that has been banged on, torn at, and picked at for about 6 years. So there are hairline cracks, fractures, holes and yes! it is totally MY fault that I have not upgraded to the newest and latest model. (or is it my husband's for not buying it for Mothers Day instead of seeds for the garden. Again, a whole other post.)

I have seen some woman who have been blessed with the upgraded model. I envy the capabilities: The always look cute and pulled together button, The everyday shower lever, the 24/7 smile-no-matter-what- feature, The nothing-cracks-me bonus addition, the one that comes with "100% patience guarantee" and the "lifetime guarantee". The one that promises to lasts for over 5,000 meltdowns while doing a million chores or you get your money back (and probably even a makeover!)

Of what model do I speak of? The MFF 5000 (Mommy ForceField 5000)

Unfortunately, I was suckered into leasing the one that was on clearance a few years ago b/c I could not afford an upgraded one. I got the used model. With previous owners. The one with no frills. No special tricks. The mainframe of Force Fields.

The FF100. (in case you don't know the 100 is the number of meltdowns covered. The number I go through in - oh lets say - a month?)

You see where I am going. (Are you sympathizing with me - The MC - yet?)

Offense #2 - Giving 6 and 3 year old Choices they are clearly not equipped to handle

Yes, for some reason, I have it in my head that kids deserve to make their own choices (damn you Dr Sears!) I made the critical mistake of asking 2 innocent children the age old question that still causes controversy in some adults:

Dunkin Donuts or Krispy Kreme?

character arc tip - It is important to show some kind of emotional growth in your character over the course of your book. They must have learned something from the conflict.

My lesson? I've realized that I give my kids waaaaaaaay to many choices in life. My 6 year old and 3 year old have somehow gotten it in their mind that since I let them choose which plate they wanted or which Dora episode to watch, that they now are in charge of telling me how to drive, suggesting (demanding) ways for me to spend my money, and implementing new rules in the house around bath/bed time without parental consent.

Scene of the Crime
rising action tip - It is the events leading up to the Climax. Confused - Just read on and you'll get a good example.

DISCLAIMER: BEWARE THIS IS A REENACTMENT THAT MAY NOT BE SUITABLE - ESPECIALLY FOR THE MOMS WHO PROUDLY OWN THE MFF 5000.

Setting: In the car, songs playing, all of us singing along with Elmo
setting tip - its important to set the stage so your reader feels as if they are there. As if they are experiencing everything the MC is - the car, the kids, the donuts.

Me (hereby known as Defendant): "Ok Dunkin Donuts or Krispy Kreme?"

Daughter, Age 6 (hereby known as Perpetrator #1) - "Dunkin Donuts"

Son, Age 3 (hereby known as Perpetrator #2) yells "Kwispe Kweme"

Defendant: "Well, do you want little round donuts or big ones."

Perp1: "Big"

Perp2: "Little"

Setting: Mom drives to Dunkin Donuts. Reasoning: b/c its closer, has small AND large donuts as well as big coffees. Family pulls into DD.

dialogue tip - it is important that you create real characters and dialogue that the reader feels is real including the appropriate dialect and word choice.

Perp2: "I don't want dis pwace (he's 3). I want da pwace where donuts go like dis" as he mimicks the big donut machine with his hands. (I know cute right? Lets see how CUTE he is later)

Defendant -" This is our only option . Other place is closed." (misdemeanor: lying in hopes of avoiding meltdown from perp2)

Perp1 cheers with hands in the air - "Yay Dunkin Donuts!" (Again, don't her deceive you either.)

Setting: Inside at counter with poor lady serving donuts to loud family before 7 am.

Defendant: "A dozen donuts please. (proceeds to call out the 12 donuts. Lady fills in 5 of them .Defendant turns to Perp #1). What donut do you want sweetie?"

Perp #1:" I dont want a big donut now. I want a small donut."

Defendant: "You said you wanted a big donut. Are you sure you want small ones now? B/c once I get them, you can't change your mind."

Perp #1: "yes."

Defendant gets big donut.

Perp#2: "no, I want a big donut."

Defendant (starts sweating) -"Wait, I thought you wanted SMALL donuts. (turns to lady frowning at counter). "OK so instead of 12 donuts, knock me down to 6 and add 25 munkins."

Perp #2: (says "I want big donut" over and over and over and over and over again in my ear.)

Defendant pats his little head: "shhhh, I heard you. I got you a big donut."

Perp #1 - "How many little donuts do i get to eat?"

Defendant - "I don't know, probably about 5?"

Perp #1 raises voice: "5! that's it?Well then I want a big donut instead."

Perp #2 yells at sister - "No! you get small donuts. Me get big donuts!"

Defendant grits teeth as lady hands over 6 donuts and munchkins. Defendant grabs bags and whispers to Perps with "THE LOOK" on her face. "Both of you stop it now or you will get NO donuts." Defendant turns to frowning donut lady. "Can I also get a iced hazelnut coffee?"

Perp #2 - "No, I want an iced coffee."

Defendant - "You cant have coffee."

Perp #2 - "I never get anyfing."

Perp #1 teases Perp #2. "Yes you do. You got apple juice this morning."

Perp #1 hits Perp #2. kids proceed to argue....LOUDLY.

Defendant speaks through gritted teeth. "Both of you better stop it and get in the car. NOW!" Defendant smiles at frowning lady and the long, long line of frowning people that have gathered impatiently waiting for donuts. "Sorry."

Both Perps continue to argue all the way to the car.

Setting: Inside car, which is a SUV but now suddenly feels like a really, really smallish compact car - with no air or room to breathe.

Defendant does deep breaths and blasts high air conditioner to cool off from sweating. Uses happy voice. "Does anyone want a small donut for the ride home?"

Perp #2 starts to cry. "But I wanted a BIG donut"

Defendant breathes again.: "You'll get a big one when you get home. But do you want a small one now?"

Perp #2 "No! Only big one!" This dialogue exchange repeats a few times.

Finally, after almost hitting a car and running over a woman, frazzled Defendant ignores Perp #2 and speaks to Perp #1 "What about you honey, do you want one of your small donuts?"

Perp #1 "Is it 1 of my 5?"

Defendant: "Yes."

Perp #1 "Never mind, I want a big donut."

Defendant: "I told you if you chose small donuts, you'd have to live with your decision. I did not get you a big one."

Perp#1: Can I have your big donut and 2 small ones?"

Defendant starts to lose grip on reality. "No!"

Perp #2: Still crying. Only its getting louder.

Perp #1: starts crying too.

Pause for commentary.

OK so this all was much, much worse than this reenactment suggests but my fingers are getting tired of doing dialogue and my heart is starting to pump as I relive the trauma of that morning.

Anyway, you get the point.

So after days of exhaustion, sickness, hospital visits, no husband back up, and being beaten down by my little devils...I mean kids....I lose it in the car. Yelling at them. At. The. Top. Of. My. Lungs. (Now, I admit I do bark/yelp occasionally. But ever since Dr Phil said "Raising your kids does not mean raising your voice." I try hard not to yell....too much.)

Now, I know you all are saying "Thats OK. Every mom loses it sometimes."

But I'm here to tell you that, I REALLY LOST IT. I went from 0 - 100 in less than 5 seconds. To be honest, I don't even know where it came from. My kids are usually pretty good kids and Ive had days where they've done worse than this before I've simply hollered calmly or yelped loudly. But for some reason, this was the day, my FF100 decided to breakdown and meltdown with no battery backup. My FF100 shortcircuited for about 30 seconds. But enough time to do some damage.

Not only was my throat sore the rest of the day, casing me to be slightly hoarse (AKA a battle scar) I think I might have even spit on the windshield. I yelled at my kids sharing some of the following points of brilliance you can only get from a mom:

"do you know how many kids in Africa want donuts?"
"how can you be fighting over donut size? A donut is a donut."
There were also some mumbles about "how I do everything for them" and "how come they cant appreciate it when they get something" and "why cant we just get along".

Then I turned up the radio loud - so loud - loud enough to drown out the crying. I think I even blew out a speaker and I'm pretty sure Ill never want to hear California girls again. (I know bad right? I'm not proud of it I just couldn't take it anymore.)

As soon we get home, i practically fall out of the car, drop my coffee, and watch MY donut roll down the hill. Now I can't even be an Emotional Eater!? I stomp into the house with crying kids behind me (feeling like a complete failure and total loser, hungry with no caffeine in sight) and sentence my criminals for their offenses.

Good times....

Sentence: No donuts for 24 hrs, Solitary room confinement of 1 hour, total silence required until otherwise notified.

Both Perps are paddywagoned into their rooms. Doors slam. Crying conmenses. I go to my office and you got it - start crying. I call my husband who after listening patiently to my rant about ungrateful and spoiled kids calmly says "Honey, I don't blame you. I think you should talk to them but don't let them see you crack or they'll miss the whole point." Then I call my mom crying and tell her I'm sorry for all the times i complained about donuts (b/c I think I remember some. Or was it about cheese???). I try to call my best friend and my brother. But they are wise in not picking up. After I cool down (and sneak a few small donuts!), I go into each room with my strong, prepared "noncracking" speech.

"I am very dissappointed in how you two acted at the donut place and I'm also dissappointed in myself for yelling. I'm sorry for yelling. (Defendant starts to tear up and voice starts to shake.) Having a choice is a priviledge that you 2 no longer have that right today. You will listen to everything I say without a peep. If you argue, additional jail time will be required. If you groan, manual labor will be in order. And if you balk, lives may be lost. For now, you may come out of solitary confinement and play in your jails together until I am ready. If you are good and don't argue with each other, I will let you out on parole for "good behavior" and LET you accompany me to the bookstore. Where we will buy nothing - no toys, no food, no books. Today, you may do nothing but eat and breathe. Please nod if you understand the terms of which you are being granted."

2 slow nods and many apologies and hugs/kisses.

The rest of the day, they were angels.

When my husband gets home, he asks the kids. "I heard mommy got mad this morning."
Daughter: "Mommy lost it b/c we were fighting over donuts."
Me: "On a scale of 1-10 - how bad did I lose it?"
Daughter: "100"

Conclusion: I have already contributed 150$ to each of their therapy punch cards so that someday they can afford to discuss THE DONUT EPISODE with a licensed professional.

Oh yeah, and next time i get donuts, I go in alone.

MommyFail or Mommysuccess?

Update: I've donated a marketing pkg that includes a consultation plus a piece of swag (book marker, postcard etc). The proceeds go to the Do It Write For Nashville that benefits the Nashville flood victims.

If the bid gets to 300$, I'll add in custom twitter background. And if it gets to 500$, I'll add in a custom biz card design.

Also - check out my interview about how marketing helped me in the publishing business over at Writer Musing. Thanks Tabitha!

I have never been someone who thought I would be great at being a mom. And since I've had kids, I'm sure other would say my #mommyfails are off the charts.

1) Patience of a Saint? #mommyfail! I have no patience. I'm the person who pops the toast early.

2) Craft Mom? #mommyfail! I am soooooooo not crafty. To me, using a crayon is an art. This includes sewing buttons, hemming, making American Girl clothes. Nuttin honey!

3) Kids are the center of my world? #mommyfail! Yes, I can be a bit self-centered. It's just now, it's with a kid. I go to story time at B&N so I can look at books in the kid section while my kids listen to other people read. I'm still working on it.

4) Mommy Speak? #mommyfail! I don't enjoy talking about my kids all day, every day. Really I don't. And, when I go out with my friends, I don't want to hear about their friends kids even more. I dont' want to compare nap schedules, poop routines, and discipline techniques from Supernanny.

5) Mommy and Me? #mommyfail! I do not attend these classes. One because on a grammar level - its just plain wrong. Two - I do not like to sing in large groups. Three, they lie - it is not just Mommy and me - its 20 other mommies and their 20 kids. I prefer to conduct my own classes at home. Cheaper and quieter. I heard once that the class should be changed to: "Scared Sh*tless women who have kids and are going out of their freaking' minds so they need to get out of the house before they go certifiably nuts" class. Wait, maybe that's too long for a brochure.

7) Mommy clothes? #mommyfail! I've never bought into mommy jeans, mommy hair cuts, and mommy stores. Excuse me but I don't want to LOOK like I haven't had sex in a couple months. Whether I have or not.

8) Hot mamma? #mommyfail! I'd like to think I've "still got it" and maybe to my husband I still do. But at for drinks, going to concerts, I realize the phrases like MILF and "hot mama," do not apply to me. Being a mommy is only sexy to us and our husbands. And that might only be b/c we take care of their kids so they pretend we're as hot as we used to be.

Now don't go calling DFAX.

I feed my kids. Even if it is from a microwave.

I pack their lunch. Even if it is a lunchable.

I read them books. Even if it is the same one every night.

I bathe them. Even if it is every OTHER night.

I sacrifice writing, sleep, and exercise to make sure they are happy. Even though I may grumble about it sometimes.

But I love my kids more than my life. I mean, I've given it up, haven't I? ;)

Besides, if any of you tried to harm them, I would personally gouge your heart out with my son's Elmo knife and serve it on my daughter's Dora plate.

See? I'm a good mommy.

Who says these things are all #mommyfails??

So #mommyfail or not.

I have realized I cannot let others tells me what a #mommysuccess looks like.

Except my kids :)

What about you? Any #mommyfails you want to come clean on? Go ahead, set yourself free!

At the center of a busy life

As a mom, sometimes, I forget to stop and breathe.

Because there are so many thing to do as a mom.

doing the laundry, changing sheets, folding laundry, putting away laundry, stacking laundry in baskets and leaving in the bedroom until *someone* else puts it away.

unloading dishes, rinsing dishes (yeah right), reloading dishes, wishing I'd bought paper dishes, buying paper plates, feeling bad about environment and go back to dishes.

reorganizing kids closets, cleaning out old toys, reorganizing new toys, returning toys back where they belong, yelling at kids to return toys where they belong, threatening kids to return toys where they belong.

buying dog food, feeding dog, taking dog to vet after he eats a pound of chocolate, letting elderly dog outside in the middle of the night to pee - twice!

taking care of hubby, making hubby take care of me, managing an extended family, managing a British family (oi!:), getting together with family before family has withdrawals.

giving baths, forcing baths, taking a shower, skipping a shower, wishing for a shower, refusing to shower.

shifting kids from one place to another, carpooling, playdates, afternoon activities, planning family activities, allocating equal Mommy Time.

get an idea, write a book, rewrite a book, tear up a book, envying someone else's book, curse my book, love my book, cry over my book, get a rejection, get an agent, rewrite book, and rewrite book again.

preparing for school, packing lunches, giving money for lunches, forgetting lunches, forgetting homework, doing homework.

cleaning out old sizes of kids clothes, buying new kids clothes, attending kids school activities, volunteering at school activities.

planning menus (yeah right!), cooking...OK FINE!...microwaving, wishing I was organized enough to crockpot, grocery shopping, wine shopping, chocolate shopping, interim shopping, drug shopping (Oops, I mean drug store shopping!)

taking care of house stuff, bringing in the mail, sending out mail, recycling junk mail, taking out the trash, recycling, bagging recycling, paying bills, filing bills, hiding bills, forgetting bills, ignoring bills.

scheduling cleaners, calling yard people, calling car people, begging babysitters, begging mother to come down.

staying on top of holidays, moving shelf on an elf, filling advent calendars, buying presents, returning presents.

awarding stars for good behavior, awarding red stickers for bad behavior, keeping track of stickers on behavior, ignoring tantrums, having tantrums, yelling at tantrums,

going by the bank to take in a check, wishing I had a check to take in, spending money, balancing checkbook, wishing I hadn't spent money, wondering where money went.

going to the bathroom with bystanders, cleaning the bathroom accidents of bystanders, teaching kids to wipe, teaching kids to flush, stocking diapers, smelling diapers, running out of diapers.

scheduling dr appt, handling impromptu dr appt, tending to the sick, feeling sick, stroking hurt feeling, hurting happy feelings, attending to boo boos.

yelling at kids to ask for peace and quiet, wishing for peace and quiet, hiding in closets for a moment of peace and quiet (everyone does this right?)

With all that - there is little time to breath.

There are so many things to do as a wife

There are so many things to do as a daughter, sister and friend.

There are so many things to do as a writer, a critiquer, a blogger, a tweeter, a facebooker, a myspacer, and a goodreader.

There are so many things to do to change the world.

Then, there are those moments - that in reality probably come to us in every second of every day - but I miss them because I'm so busy I forgot to stop, grab it, and press it to my heart. I forget to hold it in my hand before kissing it back to the wind.

Sometimes I don't relish in the moments of joy that fly by me at the speed of light. I guess I don't open my eyes in time to see the drops of happiness wrapped in a picked leaf, a drawn picture, or a hug.

Sometimes I happen to get lucky and accidentally sit still in the small moment that I realize is perfect. Before, I mistakenly push it aside as the world blows another obligation or problem my way.

Sometimes I get tiny but memorable reminders, in the shape of a flower, or a note in crayon, a book, or a sappy song.

When the universe nudges me quietly, suddenly giving me the sense, the urge, the need, the ability...

To stop...

To breathe...

To love...

To laugh...

To live...

To just be...

And remember to cherish and be grateful for the things at the very center of my busy life.

I am no Super Mom!

My kids were stuck home today from school - for the flooding - and we went to the bookstore.
So did a ton of other moms.

A lot of them were talking about what they do with their kids and what they dont' do. Some of them i thought "I do that.". Some i thought "What? I would never do that!"

I realized there is a difference between Good moms and Super moms.

• Super mom - helps her kids throw up when they are sick
  
• Good mom - helps her kids throw up but..... in reality is gagging and about to throw up herself

• Super mom - picks a paci (or food) off the floor and washes it off
• Good mom - picks up a paci (or food) blows on it and shoves it back in kids mouth to build up immune system
  

• Super mom - loves to play with her kids
  
• Good mom - loves to play with her kids but... only for so long before she feels like she just cant be the dog anymore.

• Super mom - never yells and is always calm
• Good mom - yells at least once a week and then apologizes for "losing it"

• Super mom - has kids who eat spinach and broccoli
• Good mom - gets excited when a bad eater loves spinach pretzels at B&N and then happily counts that as one of the daily vegetables.
  

• Super mom - is always dressed in super cute outfit (cape and all)
• Good mom - is lucky if she gets to take a shower and throws on what is clean (or not)
  

• Super mom - negotiate with kids in stores to avoid arguments and effectively uses time outs at the checkout
  
• Good mom - lets kid fall on the floor and then asks others around if they want to "watch the show" (while waiting for fit to be over)
  

• Super mom - packs a lunch for her kids everyday with love - keeping the four food groups in mind
  
• Good mom - packs a lunch for her kids everyday with love- but some days throws in a lunchable and tells herself its a treat

• Super mom - lays out the perfect outfit so her kid looks perfect for school
• Good mom - lets kids pick out clothes and as long as they are wearing pants - lets the unmatched socks and contrasting stripe patterns pass inspection
  

• Super mom - only gives kids TV if the American Pediatric Assoc recommends it
• Good mom - commands "movie day" and sticks her kid in front of TV to get a break.
  

• Super mom - volunteers to be the head of the PTA
• Good mom - wants to be on the PTA and knows when the meetings are, but somehow even with best intentions never gets there on time

• Super mom - loves to clean the grime in the toilets b/c "cleanliness is next to godliness".
• Good mom - love to pay someone else to reach those places.
  

• Super mom - loves to get up in the middle of the night with kids when they wake, go potty, or are in the bathroom
• Good mom - does rock paper scissors with hubby to see who wins and gets to sleep in

• Super mom - sings Elmo and Sesame Street songs in the car everyday, all day
  
• Good mom - gets her kids to like Justin Timberlake and sing "I'm bringing sexy back"

• Super mom - cooks homemade meals every night from scratch
• Good mom - cooks hot meals from the four food groups even if three of them are processed and heated in microwave

• Super mom - would rather be with their kids 24/7
• Good moms - loves time with kids but sighs a breath of relief when kids are finally tucked in bed and a bottle of wine is already open.

• Super mom - loves to share her food with her kids, giving them the last bite
• Good mom - resents giving away the last bite b/c she loves sweets
  

• Super mom - loves every bowel movement their child takes - 1 or 2
• Good mom - cringes when she hears the words "Booty check!!!" coming from the bathroom (that also happens to be flawed in its flushing ability)

• Super mom - loves being pregnant
• Good mom - doesn't like being pregnant (really through the first 3 months of babyhood) but loves her kids unconditionally

• Super mom - loves to talk about everything their kid does, all day, all the time
  
• Good mom - loves to talk about her kids but only for so long then she likes to talk about herself.
  

• Super mom - loves to play chase and run after her kids, up and down the playgyms
• Good mom - loves to play "hide and seek" so she can hide in a corner and get at least 5 minutes of peace and quiet.

I have a confession: I am a Good mom. I will never be a Super mom. I'm Ok with that.

Anyone looking to buy a "never before used" cape?

Paper or Plastic??? A life-threatening Labor Day!

What's in a cup??

This was the question of our Labor Day. Or should I say problem?

The Agonizing Labor of our Day.

No not pregnancy Labor.

Not hard labor.

Child Labor.

But not the kind you think.

No, I did NOT put any kids to work (though that's not a bad idea if you've seen my house lately!)

Our Labor Day started out quite normal and nice. Uneventful. Quiet.

The calm before the storm.

We decide to go to the zoo.

Great weather, animals, and family.

How could it get any better?

It can. Just throw in "Superhero weekend" at the zoo and you have it made.

A recipe for success?

You'd think so.

Problem #1: Instead of using our free membership, we spent an extra 40$ for Superhero tickets (money we did not budget this month).

Problem #2: Only to find out my son HATES superheros. Who knew? he loves wearing their costumes. But yes, he hates, loathes, despises men in tight uniforms. So 30 seconds in? Screams of terror.

Problem #3: Which separates the "family" for "family day" b/c hubby takes son out of show and waits outside while daughter cheers on Spiderman, Wolverine and Storm as they take out the evil Green Hornet. The show was about pollution and taking care of the environment. At the end, all kids are sworn in as "superheros of the earth." Cute right?

Problem #4: My daughter wants to wait and meet the "real" heros for a picture. In a Reaaaaaaaaaallllllly long line of screaming kids and bored parents in a hot tent. We wait in line for a long time.

Problem #5: Just before we finally reach the stage of superheros for the perfect photo op. Daughter decides she is scared and wants to leave. What a waste!

Not so bad you say. Just wait. I'm The leading up to it. Hang with me!

So family proceeds to walk around the zoo and check out more animals and get faces painted.

Problem #6: Hubby and I start to fight because I want to get food for kids b/c they are hungry but he wants to save money and rush home. Yet kids want to see more animals.

Problem # 7 - #12.5 : Meltdowns ensue. Lines to food are long. Temperatures are rising. The cute shirt I wore starts to feel like a straight jacket. I realize I forgot to use deodorant. I'm wearing my librarian glasses (BTW my contacts are on backorder - but I wont count that problem in this tally. No need to add more.) so sunglasses are not an option in the blazing sun.

Still with me? The doozey is coming. Trust me. I never disappoint my readers.

I decide (storm off) to go get food (anyway) while hubby takes kids to see Lions and Rhinos.

Problem #13: Of course, when I am not around, all hell breaks loose. (Side note: I think its b/c kids are hungry but what do I know? ah hem - maybe i was right. shhhhhhhh!)

Problem #14.333333: Son proceeds to throw a fit and throws big plastic water cup at my daughter's head, making a direct hit.

Problem #15: Evidently, the big sippy cup pummels her in the very spot you don't want it to. That's right, in the temple.

Crying begins.

can you see the escalation?? Don't worry I'm not done yet!!

Meanwhile I'm hot and mad and standing in a long line - behind someone who had 20 minutes to decide their order but now wants to change it when they get to the window - getting food and go to wait for family at designated meeting spot.

Problem #16 - #21: (b/c I am extra hot at this point, this deserves more than 1 problem) No one in my family unit shows up to meet me.

Then I get a call. On my cell. From my daughter (keep in mind she is 5!) telling me to come to the car?

Problem #22 - Hubby is in car in parking lot!??? Me? Still in hot zoo with bag of crappy expensive food after waiting for a long time!!! Now stuck alone in a huge crowd of stinky, hungry people.

I rush out of zoo to lot, even sweatier than before (did i mention food line was in the hot hot son by a hot hot grill.)

Problem #23 - argument ensues with hubby over failure to communicate over locale of meeting spot.

Problem #24 - Over my daughter's crying in the back seat, I'm filled in of my son's vicious cup attack (please keep in mind he's only 2 so during all of this drama - he's in the back seat happily singing "wheels on the bus". Totally oblivious to his offense.)

Problem #25 - Then I see my daughter's eye. A blood blister (about the size of a dime) is forming on her left temple. (Hm. That doesn't look good.)

Problem #26 - I try to lecture 2 year old about throwing cups as he is singing "no more monkeys jumping on the bed." He does not understand.

Problem #27 - ON way home, daughter says she feels tired and sick to her stomach. (wow this really doesn't sound good)

Problem #28- #30 - we get home and she won't eat. Anything. She just wants to sleep. She lays down and gets lethargic. I won't let her sleep. I think I saw that in a movie somewhere. She is not happy about that.

Problem #31 - I think she needs to go to emergency room. Hubby does not.

Problem #32 - a little later, when she perks up a bit, hubby says he is taking kids to park.(really?)

Problem #33 - #35: she throws up in car and then all over the bathroom. (I see lots of red stuff and start to freak out but hubby says it is jello?? But she only had 2 bites??)

We call the medical help line. They say, "OMG Bring her in!"

Yes I am serious? We are now scrambling wondering if she has a head injury from a random flying cup?

Problem #36. Hubby rushes daughter into car and to emergency room - which is only minutes from our house.

Problem #37-50 - I stay at home with son!!! Pacing! Freaking out. Now I am crying. What if she is really hurt? At the hand of my singing son?

Problem #51 - Just as they get in the door, daughter throws up in emergency room.

Problem #52. They are whisked away into another room and all the ER is forced to wear masks? (why? you guessed it - swine flu precaution??)

Problem #53: In the meantime, a trauma unit comes in with a kid in really bad shape from a car accident. So my daughter - who either has swine flu or massive brain hemorrhaging - waits and waits and waits. (And rightly so, b/c the trauma kid almost died but they saved him. That was definitely worth the wait. But the wait was agonizing.)

Problem 53.4 - Problem 61.3333 - Meanwhile - neurotic, worse-case scenario mom (AKA Me!) is freaking out at home. Calling family and best friend hoping to be talked out of visiting Panic-ville. (PS my family thinks I overreact so this calling drudges up family issues as well.)

Problem 61.4 - Problem 65 - Doctor does not come in to examine daughter for 2 hrs!!! Meanwhile, her brain is falling out of her head (at least to me)

Problem 65 - I am at home researching head trauma, CT scans, Natasha Richardson, and US statistics on "death by flying cups".

Problem 66 - Junior doctor checks out daughter and says she is fine. he wants to send her home.

Problem 67 - I tell (threaten) hubby. Don't leave until they scan her or I will come down there! (Do you blame me? The symptoms showed up with in 10 minutes of head impact.)

Problem 68 - Daughter has to go through scary CT scan.....without me! :(

Problem 69 - 99 - CT scan is 100% normal???? Daughter diagnosed with tummy bug!

Problem #100- My neurotic self once again looks like a hypochondriac, loony bird with entire family who I've been calling and putting on "emergency backup" notice for 2 hrs in case I have to go into hospital for brain surgery. (no not mine, hers!)

*sigh*

Blessing #1 - #100 - daughter is fine. family is fine.

Shout out #67 (don't ask about #1-#66) : to my daughter's guardian angel - you rock!!!!

Moral of the story?

We are switching to paper cups!!!!!!!!