Good luck with that…..

     I am not good at remembering appointments. I try to write them down but just end up losing whatever I wrote it down on. I try to put it in my phone, but forget to set the reminders. Because of this, I am a huge fan of the reminder calls. One of my doctors has a rouge robocall that usually will call you 8-10 times reminding you to come in. I could not be happier about that. The other day however, I found my exception. I had gotten a call back from my mammogram saying they needed to do some further tests and I needed to return.  I was not in the least bit worried since this happens almost every year. I set up the appointment and promptly forgot when it was. A day or two before I was set to go in, a friendly young man called to remind me of my upcoming visit. I confirmed that I would be there. In his very nicest voice he says, “Good luck and I hope everything turns out okay.”  “How nice” you might be thinking. I was not thinking that at all!  What did he mean by good luck?  What needed to turn out okay?  What did he know that I didn’t? Suddenly my routine follow up was apperently something I needed luck for in order for it to turn out okay!  What should have been a friendly reminder was now a countdown to impending doom. Now instead of wanting to remember my appointment, I wanted nothing more than forget about it. 

     After the additional tests, I waited there in the exam room for the results. The nurse huddled in the corner ordering a cheese steak with no onions and fries from an unnamed restaurant on the other line. I felt like at some point she should have offered me either some luck or some fries. She did neither. 

     Twenty minutes slowly ticked by until the normal results came in.  Luck was not needed after all.  I think I will go buy myself a calendar and start writing my appointments down and let those friendly reminders go to voice mail from now on. 

An Open Letter to Little League parents and Coaches

Dear Little League Parents and Coaches,

This is my third year as a baseball mama so I now consider myself an expert on the dos and don’ts around the field. Here are ten tips to get you through the season….

1.  Don’t buy your son an extra small pair of baseball pants while buying an extra large cup. He should never look as though he could leave a game and head straight to a Magic Mike audition.

2.  Come to the fields comfortably dressed. Your hot pants and stilettos are lovely and I’m quite certain you are getting plenty of stares, but when you fall and get stuck between the bleachers you may have wished for a nice pair of yoga pants. I truly thought they were going to have to get the jaws of life out there one night.

3.  Get your little girls out on that field. Nothing is cuter than a tiny girl in a baseball uniform with a pink helmet, cleats, and bat crush one past the boys and round the bases!

4.  I would not recommend brokering real estate deals while on the toilet behind the concession stand. Props to you for being there for your kid when you are clearly busy, but the noises coming from your stall were enough to ruin even the best deal.

5.  Team moms who provide gluten free, dairy free, GMO free organic snacks and fresh fruit to the team are great. Team moms who forgot it was their night and quickly stopped by 7-11 and grabbed a dozen donuts and a twelve pack of Sprite are just as great.

6.  No disrespect to Tom Hanks…but there is crying in baseball. A lot of crying. One night a pitcher hit a batter extremely hard. While the batter was wailing in pain the pitcher began to cry uncontrollably because he felt so bad that he had hurt him. There was at least a fifteen minute delay of game while everyone got their tears dried.

7.  Umpires will call a time out if the entire outfield is doing the “I have to potty” dance.

8.  Being a coach does not give you the right to trash talk the other team. I may be short, overweight, and wearing a dress but if you trash talk my kid I’m scaling that fence.

9.  As much as you would like to think your cutie pie is a phenom bound for the Major Leagues, yelling at him throughout the entire game about how and where to stand while miming the perfect batting stance from the bleachers probably won’t add too many points to his draft number.

10. There is nothing like sitting on the bleachers surrounded by new friends all cheering for your child as they make their first out, score their first run, or help lead their team to victory.

Play ball!!

Back to School

One of the many things I love about being a teacher is having the summers off.  Lounging by the pool while my boys wear themselves out swimming or catching up on my HGTV while they play outside with their friends is a wonderful break from our busy and chaotic school year.

Today that all changed as I packed up and headed back to school for teacher preparation.  Sitting in meetings and diving into a sea of yearly, monthly, and daily lesson plans can quickly become all consuming.  We are busy arranging our classrooms, searching for new ways to teach the same skills, and preparing supplies for the 22 darlings that will show up next Tuesday.

Tonight I  brought work home with me, hoping to get a little ahead of the game while my two boys entertained themselves.  This seemed to be working just fine as they chose to use this time to invent a new game called “Couch Olympics”.  This game began with each “athlete” running across the living room and leaping over a laundry basket on to the not yet completely paid for couch.  Gradually. the laundry basket was pulled further and further away from the couch to make the flying leap more challenging.  A player won when the other participant either touched the laundry basket, hit the floor, or cried.  This was working for quite a few rounds until the little one decided he was being weighted down by his clothes.  Thus, the games were renamed the “Summer Couch Olympics” which allowed the athletes to compete in their underwear.  It appeared to be a close race until the final round ended with one bumping their head and one banging their elbow.  There may be no crying in baseball but apparently Couch Olympics is fair game.

I didn’t get much work done here at home.  I rarely do.  After all, after I dry these tears I have a gold and silver medal to award.

Ten Phrases or Sentences I Never Used Before Having Boys

1.  “Stop answering all of your brother’s questions with ‘Your butt’!”

2.  Yes you have to take a shower even though you took one last night.

3.  Yes you will have to take one tomorrow too.

4.  Why is my car full of rocks?

5.  Is this game 6 or 7 of the Stanley Cup?

6.  Boys, I said “Nut Punch” is NOT a game!

7.  No you may not list all of the bad words that you know.

8.  No you may not list all of the names you know for your personal areas.

9.  Don’t make me stop this car.

10. Why are you wearing two pair of underwear?

Target and the Stay at Home Mom

As a working mom, I have reserved every Sunday afternoon to run my errands.  I leave the boys at home with my husband and do my best to get a whole week’s worth of shopping and running around done in two or three hours.  My favorite stop on my weekend marathon is Super Target.  I can truly get almost anything I need from groceries to new wardrobes.

Now if  you have never been to a Super Target on a Sunday afternoon, it is pure craziness.  (Not quite to Walmart Crazy, but pretty crazy!)  Other working moms are zooming up and down the aisles with me trying to get everything they need  before their husbands call them with a crisis from home.  You can here the dings of coupon apps ringing throughout the store and you  might strike up a conversation  with someone searching for the same product to scan for that Coach purse on shopkick.  At our Target, a local boarding school brings two busloads of high schoolers in every Sunday to do their weekly shopping so you can hardly get your buggy down the ramen noodle and Dr. Pepper aisles.  Tired employees work hard to keep the shelves stocked but can’t quite seem to keep up with the demand.

Several weeks ago, I found myself home alone on a weekday.  This is an extremely rare event and I headed out to Target to try and get ahead for once.  What I found was a completely different store than the one I frequented on the weekend!  The lights seemed brighter, the employees more relaxed, and the shelves were all stocked to capacity!  You could even here the soft music playing in the background.  I was immediately intrigued.  What had I been missing out on??  I decided to explore further.

As I wondered aimlessly around the store, I realized that the store seemed to be completely filled with stay at home moms or  sahm as mommy blogs everywhere have deemed them. Now my interest was completely piqued.  What would it be like as a stay at home mom to visit target during the week?  I decided I would investigate.  I found that the moms seemed to fit into one of three categories.

#1- The New Mom-  This mom enters the store with a baby in a stroller or in a bjorn.  There are circles under her eyes and a cheerio in her hair.  She is still wearing her maternity sweats because either she can’t quite fit into her old ones or has just decided these are the most comfortable things ever.  She really isn’t there to buy anything so you tend to find this mom wondering towards the front of the store. She just needed to get out of the house.  Her baby was up multiple times during the night and her toddler has been watching Dora the Explorer for five straight hours and she is starting to forget that boots use to be stylish things she wore when she went out on Friday nights rather than some stupid purple monkey from Brazil.  She is hoping that a trip to Target will wear everyone out so that she might possibly get a nap or a shower after lunch, something she hasn’t had time for in the last several days.  I want to go and give this mom a hug.  I was this mom when I stayed home with my boys for their first few months.  I wanted to tell her it would get easier and that one day she would sleep and shower on a regular basis.  (But the maternity sweats are still super comfy!)

#2- The Mercedes Mom –  Our Target boarders an extremely wealthy part of town.  These moms show up with their Bugaboo strollers in their extra small Lululemon’s.  Their hair is smoothly up in a high perfect pony and their makeup flawless as they casually sip their no fat skinny lattes.  You find these moms in the organic food section.  Later, after their kale salad, they will drop the baby off with the nanny and head to their Spinning/Pilates fusion workout with their personal trainer Ghi.  I sigh a bit at this mom.  I know money won’t buy me happiness but extra small Lulu’s might!

#3- The Soccer Mom-  This mom has made the big time!  She has put in her time at home and now that last little one has finally entered Kindergarten!  She is free!!  This mom is either dressed in sensible workout gear from her Yoga session at the Y, or nicely dressed because she in now free to meet friends for lunch at places that don’t serve chicken fingers.  I found a lot of these moms in the home decor section.  They finally have the time to scrape the dried yogurt off the couch and may as well spruce up the place while they are at it.  Her buggy is full of picture frames and throw pillows.  She is thoroughly enjoying her quiet morning before a crazy afternoon of ballet lessons and soccer games.

As I left that day with my $250 receipt (I swear I  just went to buy toilet paper!), I let out a long sigh.  I would return Sunday and fight another mom over the last lunchable like it was the last toy on Christmas Eve.  I would stand in long lines and read OK! magazine for the latest divorce and pregnancy rumors while I waited.  And as I walked to the car, I would glance back and whisper “Someday weekday Target, someday”.

Easter Bunny After Dark…….

Our local mall has the best Easter Bunny I have ever seen.  A friendly gentleman of a bunny that appears to have at least showered a time or two in the last decade as opposed to other mall bunnies I have seen.  He sits on his throne amongst an elaborate set of spring flowers, dyed eggs, and floating butterflies.  The same two men are in charge of the photographs every year and they treat each “session” as if the kid was going to be the next spokesperson for Easter itself.  They can get the youngest participants to stop screaming at the top of their lungs and get at least one resemblance of a smile for the perfect picture.  Because of this, the wait to see Mr. Rabbit will usually run you about two to three hours.  A line I have waited in every year for the last nine years.

We have had many interesting experiences waiting in this line year after year, but none quite as interesting as  this past year.  Two and a half hours had passed and the end was in sight.  There were only two families in front of us.  We began tucking in shirts and licking off faces, readying the now disheveled boys for their close ups.  Of course, this is when the photographers decided to take a ten minute break.  Now why the bunny and the photographers didn’t coordinate their break I’m not sure, but for some reason the rabbit decided to hang around.  He got up off his throne and walked around his habitat a bit, stopping to briefly stand by one of the young college age girls working behind the payment counter.  He leaned in and suddenly she began giggling.  He moseyed back over to his seat and soon there after the girl followed him, draping herself over his lap.  One of his big bunny paws wrapped around her waist while the other one rubbed up and down her leg.  I knew a rabbits foot was suppose to be lucky but was completely unaware that a rabbits foot could get lucky.  Parents watched in stunned silence with their mouths hanging open with disbelief.  We weren’t sure if we should cover our children’s eyes or not.  This was not right!  The Easter Bunny was suppose to have a nice bunny wife at home making him carrot stew in their little cottage.  He was not suppose to be canoodling with a girl half his age.  (Although I’m not really sure how old he is suppose to be, she seemed WAY too young for him.)  The minutes seemed endless as we all shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Finally the photographers returned and the girl went back to her counter.  Suddenly, at least for the few families who had witnessed this, we did not want to put our little children on this ….this…..philanderer’s lap!  He was not the sweet rabbit that brought eggs and chocolate to children on Easter morning.  He was some long eared womanizer  who was having a torrid lap affair with his human coworker.  It was just wrong on so many levels.  We all looked at each other in silent questioning.  Do we give up the last three hours of our life and go home with no picture?  Do we explain to the children why we couldn’t sit on the bunny’s lap like previous Easters?  It seems we all reached the silent understanding that we would indeed go through with our mission to capture the annual picture.  It would of course be a perfect picture of innocent children in their Easter finery.

As the young cashier handed us our pictures, she smiled sweetly and said “See you next year!”  I stared at her for a minute, wondering what could make a nice girl like her fall for an age old bunny.  I couldn’t see anything that would give away her secret.  As I left, I felt a bit sad for her.  I don’t think their relationship would last.  I figure he will hop his way out of town once Easter is over.  I hoped she would be okay, but for her there would be hope.  Santa and his lap would be arriving in just a few short months.

Oops….I Did It Again

Dear Lady who decided to dress up like naughty school girl Britney Spears at Universal Stidios,

I get it. I mean who doesn’t love Brit?  But what you may not know is that we do have the occasional breeze here in Florida. Some days can be down right windy. One of those little breezes caught that little skirt of yours and lifted it right up in front of my 7 and 10 year old boys. Now your reaction of “Oops I did it again” was so cute and super clever, but might I remind you that the follow up lyrics happen to be “I played with your heart” not “I showed my Britney bits to a seven year old”.   It’s been almost a full week and the big one is still blushing while the little one is still laughing so hard he is snorting. Maybe you could go with one of her other looks like ….ummmm…..well there was the one …..no definitely not that one…..or how about….no that one is no better. You know what?  Let’s just pick a different singer all together. How about Taylor Swift?  She stays nice and covered and wears those panties that go up to her rib cage. Let’s give that one a whirl shall we?

Super Powers

My little one says he has super powers. He doesn’t think he can fly faster than a speeding bullet or anything like that. He believes he can fight off bad guys with his ear. He has what is called an ear pit which is a small dimple near his ear. Apparently it is somehow connected to his sinuses. One night he took his knuckle and rubbed the dimple real hard and then stuck his finger to his daddy’s nose. The smell was horrendous!  My husband was horrified!  “What is that smell?” He asks the little one. “When I rub my ear hole with my knuckle it stinks so I make people smell it. It’s my super power.”  Well having been unaware of the fact that his “ear hole” made his knuckle stink, we immediately made an appointment with the doctor. He said everything was perfectly normal and gave him a stern lecture about it NOT being a super power and NOT to make people smell it. So far he has done a fairly good job reigning in his miraculous abilities, but you can’t keep a true super hero down for long. Last night we caught him practicing on his brother, just in case he ever needs to use it against bad guys. 

Who Wears Short Shorts

I only shaved one leg tonight. Yep….just one. My other leg is starting to resemble one of my shitzu’ legs. No…. I’m not going out for a “before and after” part in a Nair commercial. In fact, it wasn’t on purpose at all. You see, there is something about me stepping into the bathroom that causes my entire family to be rendered helpless.  Even the dog has started to put her paws under the bathroom door trying to get in. 

On the one hand, it is flattering to think that they have such faith in my abilities to solve all of life’s problems while in the loo, but on the other hand, even my super powers have their limits.   Tonight’s catastrophe came in the form of three day old mosquito bites that required immediate medical attention. The discomfort was so bad that it required the little one to sit on the edge of the separate garden tub while keeping me constantly updated on his pain levels. In my rush to come to his aid before his imminent departure from this world, I forgot to shave my other leg. 

Of course by the time I was out of the shower, he was miraculously healed and off playing with his brother. 

Hopefully tomorrow I will find the time to even things out a little bit. But if you happen to see me walk by and have the urge to braid my leg hair, just please keep walking and pretend not to notice. Chances are my quiet time was once again thwarted by a need for me to save the world.