Overdue

I'm back.

 

That's all.

Under Construction

Under construction
Under a spell
Under the weather

In a daze
In a haze
Waiting

Waiting on health
On time for the dust to settle
Waiting for the ducks to fall in a row

Any day now the haze will lift

Happily Ever After

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl. She lived with her father and her evil stepmother. One day, disappointed in his daughter, the father spoke to her with the harshest of words. He punished her, withheld his love, and forced her to wear a scarlet letter. The dear, sweet child didn't mean to do wrong. She was trying to find her way in a world that hadn't been explained to her.

Feeling immense sorrow and anger towards her father, the girl sought comfort from her best friend. She turned to him for validation, she needed to know she was not what her scarlet letter told the world she was. She turned to him for a shoulder to cry on. She turned to him for love. And, before she knew it, he turned to someone else.

Broken hearted, sad, and confused the girl went on. She held her head high, as though she was not scarred. She continued to seek love, the love her father withheld all those days ago, the love her best friend tossed aside. Try as she might, she couldn't find it. She found lust and excitement, but never love.

And then, one day, the girl trusted her heart to a man not worthy. He took every ounce of her soul and crushed it between his hands. He laughed at her pain...the pain he caused for his own satisfaction. He took everything the girl thought she knew about life and threw it up against the wall. The pieces crumbled to the ground much like the girl.

sigh

Cold and empty the girl trudged on. She was no longer looking for love. Love was gone. In its place was a wall. What the girl wanted now was to feel nothing at all. She sought out opportunities to numb the hurt as it crept in. The opportunities, though all different, were plentiful. They allowed the girl to go on, pretend her soul was still hers, pretend she was fine.

And eventually, the beautiful, broken girl was fine. Sort of. The foundation to her wall stays strong year after year. Occasionally someone manages to knock a brick or two down, never much more. The girl, so broken, finds love and comfort from her wall. She clings to it to keep her safe, to keep the pieces of her heart together. With a wall so high, trust in others isn't necessary. How scary it would be for the girl to bring her wall down, to expose her heart to the potential pain, to place her trust in others when some are not worthy. How can the girl determine who she can trust? She can't. Her father broke her heart. Her best friend broke her heart. And another broke her soul completely. So, the girl lives behind her wall. Every once in awhile she sticks her head out, looks around, begins to trust, grows scared and returns to the safety of her wall.

My True Love

It's Friday and I'm feeling über grateful to my bestest best friend in the whole wide world. I would like to dedicate today to...Amazon.

Two days ago my tub was clogged. I had been showering in two inches of my own filth, and the filth of every other member of my house. So freakin gross. There really is not much as gross as standing in soap and grime and hair and feeling it all swirl around you as you attempt to bathe. The solution was obvious, drain cleaner. But obvious and easy are not one in the same. Unless I'm intending to buy Alice a toy, I despise taking the kids to Target. It's a meltdown waiting to happen. I spend too much money, it takes too long, there's entirely too much whine (and not nearly enough wine) and in the end I'm exhausted and usually forgot the one item I drove to Target for in the first place. And then, standing in pubes (not my own, I have you know) I had an aha moment.

Amazon.com

I love amazon and buy an outlandish number of items from there every year. Birthday presents, applesauce, mason jars...you name it, I've likely bought it on Amazon. But sometimes it takes me a few days or weeks to remember the magical Mecca Amazon really is. Sometimes I get in my car and drive from store to store looking for a specific item before my moment of enlightenment....Amazon. Why waste gas and precious time when I can buy leather cleaner in my pajamas? Amazon delivers to me for free. FOR FREE PEOPLE. With gas at $3.50 a gallon, do you know how much it costs me to drive the forty minute round trip to target? And I have to get dressed and make children behave like they have a brain. Amazon loves me so much they will bring me my things for free. It's a no-brainer.

But, in case you aren't yet sold on the wonders of Amazon, there are the reviews. Hundreds and thousands of reviews. Why would I blindly buy a shower curtain liner from Target when I can read 503 people's opinion of one specific liner on Amazon? Literally 503 people took the time to post a review about a shower curtain liner. And let me tell you, they were right. So far the liner kind of kicks ass. Honestly, I'm addicted to reviews. I hardly buy a thing without reading a handful first. I want to know what I'm in for. If the thermos leaks after a month or so, I wanna know. No surprises.

I present to you my list of top ten life changing items I've purchased on Amazon. Without Amazon, I would have had to drive to actual brick and mortar stores to purchase these items. Some items I didn't even know I needed. Others I didn't know existed until I started reading reviews. In most cases I paid far less, and in all cases it was easy. One item may have even saved me from killing Hatta.

1. Ceiling fan light bulb
2. Drain cleaner
3. Glass straws
4. iPhone case
5. Nivea hand cream
6. Wireless router
7. Breville juicer
8. French press
9. Bona wood floor cleaner
10. Nivea kiss of smoothness lip care

My love for Amazon is growing by leaps and bounds. In fact, I'm expecting a date with the UPS man later this afternoon. Maybe tomorrow, too.

Eating Bon Bons

I can't write today. I mean, I get this is technically writing, but it's not a solid story. It's my excuse. I am typing letters to form words to explain away why I can't write something compelling today.

I am addicted to The Young and the Restless.

There, it's out for the world to judge me based on my daytime tv guilty pleasure. I have been watching Y&R for as long as I can remember. I recall at daycare listening to the show when I was supposed to be napping. I learned all I need to know about life from the Newman's and Abbott's. I remember when Nicholas was just a baby and Victoria was sent away to boarding school, Christine was Cricket and Don Diamont was Brad Carlton not "Dollar Bill" Spencer.

But the thing is, I suppose I am not a true addict. Sadly, I function on a regular basis without my Y&R fix. I do not have TiVo or DVR or some other technological advancement in tv recording. So, if I'm not home with kids already napping between the hours of 12:30-1:30 I'm screwed. Occasionally I catch the last fifteen minutes, but most of the time I'm left with the shakes because I don't know if Adam is out of the comma yet. To combat the twitchiness I seek out episodes online. I will not admit how many hours of my life I have wasted searching YouTube for Young and the Restless videos. For awhile, it was easy. I could go to my usual YouTube subscription and watch grainy full length episodes. Then Sony started effing with us. From the chatter, I gathered they didn't want users posting their content on YouTube for addicts like myself to watch for free. Son of a bitch, they made me getting my dose ridiculously hard. I had to search and search and follow users because they followed an account that posted an episode yesterday which Sony removed within an hour all in hopes of being led to the next dealer, I mean poster. Then, I started settling for clips of episodes, just enough of a high to get me by. I suppose the day I watched clips of six year old episodes was the day I staged an intervention for myself. It had gone too far and I knew it. Without cable or DVR or a working PC, I was not going to be able to watch my soap opera. I quit cold turkey and never looked back. Until I heard the promotion on CBS for a brand new IPad App.

Now I can watch day old episodes anytime I want. Any. Time. I. Want. Which brings me back to my point. I can't write today because I have to watch Young and the Restless. I am many months behind and I must catch up. I'm like an addict who just moved in with their dealer. I'll resurface in a few days, don't worry.

Not So Truthful Tuesday

I had all intentions today to tell the story of my one secret I carry around every where I go. It's with me when I wake in the morning and right by my side when my head hits the pillow every night. My one truth that only the closest to me know. The one thing I don't speak of, because it's just that painful. The truth that haunts me and my future.

But I can't.

I suppose I don't have the courage, yet, to put it out there for the world to read. To be that vulnerable. If I put it in print it will be too real. I hope to be brave enough soon, for I do think it will be helpful. There's something therapeutic about seeing it in letters.

Punked

Dear Mother Nature,

Clap..............clap..............clap.

Bravo. Well played. Point Mother Nature. I see what you did today, your humor is not lost on me. I can appreciate a good prank. But, it kinda feels like you've won on a technicality. To be fair, I did only request for you to change the weather, which you did. At present there is zero snow accumulation outside my front door. Don't get me wrong, I am very grateful for this. I was dreading the shoveling and the wet snowboots cluttering the entrance to my home. But it feels like I was played. You changed the weather like it was one giant mood swing. Are you pmsing? Because if you are, just say so and I'll completely understand. You caused a lot of inconviences today constantly making it appear as it was going to snow any minute. Have a look at just one tiny example, three emails I received today.

Just think about all those poor moms who were waiting and praying swim lessons were canceled, all for naught. They still had to deal with the cold wet weather you provided. As a mother yourself, you should be ashamed. I lost my lunch bunch day, never to be gotten back. It's just gone. Dust in the wind. And to top it off, I didn't even get to Instagram adorable pictures of my child frolicking in the inches of snow you promised.

You may have won this time, but you can bet your ass I'll be bitching in the August heat.

Sincerely,

Nelly

 

P.S. If you skip spring and go straight to summer, there will be hell to pay.

Busy, Busy

Life has been busy. Granted, life is always busy, but recently it's been the kind of busy I can't set aside for a later day. Life has been requiring my complete attention. Today I will post a few snapshots to help serve as reminders to myself of posts I have floating in my head, In case they get lost up there. Also proof to you fine readers, I haven't been neglecting my blog because I've been slacking off.

Oops, how'd that one get in there? I'm ordinarily not the kind of girl to post a pic like that.

 

New stories are coming. Soon....I hope.

Way Up High

In my house there's a mythical place where toys go called Way Up High. The location often changes without notice, but the laws governing remain the same. In Way Up High land you never know who you may find. One day in my journeys, I stumbled upon quite a large group of inhabitants.

For one activity or another, the toys were banished to Way Up High never to be heard from again until that fateful day when they were given a second chance. I am not entirely sure what causes a toy to go haywire, is it peer pressure or are some toys just inherently misfits. Whatever the reason, the toys that don't conform to society find themselves in Way Up High. Most often they travel in packs, Iike the group above. But it's not unheard of to find a solitary.

On occasion I have even witnessed the natives of Way Up High so outraged at a toys actions, they are banished to the outskirts of the land. A place only whispered in the darkest of times, Way Way Up High. Here they are most usually forgotten about completely.

And sometimes there are repeat offenders. I will not mention any names, eh hem...lightsaber.

These toys are darker than most and stand no chance in normal society. Their forever home is Way Up High. The only hope they have at a new life is a place called Good Will.

 

When I Grow Up

"When I grow up and get big, I don't wanna be a mama," she told me.

"That's fine. You don't have to be a mama."

"I don't want to have babies in my tummy."

"Well, then, you don't have to," I told her.

"But what if a baby gets in my tummy anyway?"

"It won't. Don't worry. If you don't want to be a mom you don't have to be. You can be whatever you want. But, you might change your mind. I loved having you in my tummy. You would kick my belly every night when I sat down to eat dinner."

"And what'd you do to me?" she asked, perfectly well knowing the answer.

"I'd rub your little bum to calm you down. Alice, why don't you want to be a mama?"

"I don't like how babies get out of the tummy from the vagina."

"I didn't like it either. But you can still be a mama if you want. You don't have to grow the baby in your tummy if you don't want to. You can adopt a baby that needs a mama. Like your Aunts did."

With an upbeat tone she exclaimed, "That's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna get a baby that already has a name."

Dazed and Confused

I am too tired to write.

I know I said I wasn't going to give any more excuses for not writing, but I swear, this time it's different. See...I'm writing. Even though I'm so tired my brain is jello, I'm still stringing together letters to make words. Promise kept.

Alice is killing me. Slowly but surely. Autocorrect suggested surly instead, which may be appropriate too.

She's been having bad dreams. I suppose I would have patience for them if they were truly bad dreams, but I kind of feel they are merely less than stellar dreams. Correct me if I'm wrong, but your pink and purple heart Vans being tagless does not constitute a bad dream. It doesn't warrant crying and yet she was. Scream crying in the middle of the night because her shoes didn't have a tag. What tag? I don't have a clue what she's talking about. Yet, I was awake to ponder the thought.

I was awake to listen to the coughing, too. The rediculous coughing. Fifteen minutes of coughing, twenty minutes of rest. Ten minutes of coughing, fifteen minutes of rest. Ten more minutes of coughing, hour of rest. All freaking night long like this. I might have been more sympathetic and motherly if I wasn't already sleep deprived from the previous nights. All she got from me was "Go to the bathroom and get a drink of water, Alice." I vaguely remember telling her to get up and go play even though it was only five o'clock in the morning. Not exactly a shining moment in mom history.

Tonight I will sleep, damn it. I'm making Hatta buy Vicks Vapo-Rub as we speak, hopefully that will calm the coughing from her cold. I'm going to bed early. No Monday night football for me. Hell, I may even drug myself for a restful eight hours of sleep. As I tell a childless friend of mine, if you like sleeping don't ever, ever, ever, ever have kids.

Letter to Myself

Dearest Nelly,

I'm not sure how to begin, the nicest way to tell you this. So I'll come right out...you have to write more. You have a million excuses. Frankly, non of them are that good. Life is hard. Yep. Got it. So what?

Write.

I know you have ideas swirling around in your head. I'm there at night when you lie awake thinking of them. I'm there when you write bits and pieces of posts in your mind and never manage to let them out. I see the pictures in your photo stream of posts not written.

Just write.

I know somedays you struggle finding the humor. That's okay. Remember, you write for you. Always have. You don't have to force yourself to write funny stories. Remember your post, if you have nothing nice to say, say it brilliantly? Write what you want. But don't forget your purpose, the reason you delved into the dark side, to cathartically chronicle your life with Alice. Write about Alice. The good and the bad. Maybe the battles don't seem as funny as they used to. She's getting smarter, the battles are much more than sharpie on your furniture. Try telling the story anyway.

Allow yourself to grow as a writer. Yes. You are a writer. You type letters to make words and words to make sentences and sentences to tell a story. That makes you a writer. You can't not write just because the material isn't what it used to be. Things change, people change. You have to accept it and embrace where you are now. You have to find a way to write it down. You enjoy writing. It's not work. It's a release. If you need to, use writing prompts or write fiction. Anything. Just start writing again.

Lylas,

Me

Go Vote!

I overheard this conversation and it made me chuckle.

Him: So, Alice. Today's Election Day. That means we get to vote to decide who's going to be our president.

Her: What?

Him: Well. I'm going to vote this morning. I'm going to pick who I want to be president of our country.

Her: Where?

Him: You know the playground near our house?

Her: The one with the spinny blue monkey bars.

Him: What? I don't know the spinny blue monkey bars. I'm talking about the playground at the school near our house.

Her: Uh huh. The one with the spinny blue monkey bars.

Him: Sure. Fine. I guess. Anyway. I'm going there to vote.

Her: You get to go to the playground? I wanna go to the playground!

Him: I'm not going to the playground. I'm going to go to the school to vote.

Her: ..........

Him: So tonight or tomorrow we will find out who's our president for the next four years. It's either going to be Obama who is our current president or Romney.

Her: I think you should pick Romney.

Him: I think you're wrong.

Fiction

Greetings Friend!

Tonight is my last night here at this gorgeous resort and spa. I really can't believe I have to go home, but sadly my flight leaves in the morning and my bags are packed. It has been the best week of my life!

If you have never vacationed alone, I highly recommend it. No one waking you before your ready. No one begging to be fed. No one else's itinerary to follow. It's just me and it's been divine.

I've never seen a town quite like this one. It's breathtaking really, with its view of the beach on one side and the picturesque mountain on the other. And the weather has been perfect, 80 degrees with a slight breeze during the day and an ideal 69 at night, just enough nip in the air to need a sweater. I'm afraid I can't tell you where I'm staying. If word gets out it will be trendy and overcrowded and no longer the peaceful retreat it is today.

I've spent the week doing nothing and I've loved every minute of it. I've had no agenda. No schedule to follow. No rules. I've done what I wanted every minute of every day. I didn't manage to see any sunrises, since my body was allowed to sleep until it was good and ready to wake. But I saw seven beautiful sunsets, every one better than the night before. The reds and oranges and pinks and purples splashed on the deep blue sky were beyond breathtaking. The images will forever be etched in my mind.

The resort staff has been nothing but exceptional during my stay. I've not heard a single sigh or humph yet. No matter what I request for room service breakfast they deliver it promptly with a smile every time. Even the day I took a vow of silence they were nothing but accommodating.

The beach was a perfect paradise. Comfy lounge chairs and towels ready for me when I meandered down. As soon as my bare feet touched the sand, I knew I was home. There's something about the warm sand between my toes that makes me breath a sigh of relief as a weight is instantly lifted from my shoulders. There's something about it that makes me feel at ease, settled. Some days I'd spend hours lying there doing absolutely nothing. The sun too bright to enjoy reading, I'd lie there and listen to the rhythmic roar of the ocean and feel the heat on my back. Those moments on the beach were probably the closest I've ever come to successful meditation, the sounds and smells blocking out all thought. It's just that peaceful. Add to it the wait staff at my constant beck and call with cucumber margaritas and ice cold coronas and the beach was heaven.

I usually went for a mountain side hike in the late afternoon. Almost as appealing as the beach, equally as peaceful. What can I say, I'll always be a beach girl at heart. I'd walk along, the crunching of the autumn leaves beneath my feet, the sun flickering through the trees as it made its descent. There was a stream that flowed close to the trail. I'd find myself memorized with the rushing water much like a pyromaniac would with a flame. Hiking along, if I didn't have sense, I could have allowed myself to become lost. There's just something about following a trail and seeing it through until an unspoken force pulls you in another direction.

The spa. Oh! Em! Gee! The spa! Truth be told, like an addiction, I could have spent all 8 days at the spa. Every treatment I had was the best I've ever had in my entire life. Every spa hand that touched my skin felt better than any other spa hand had in my entire life. They had the power with every touch to melt my skin like butter. I was an instant puddle there for them to mold and reshape into a better, looser, happier me. And the spa amenities were to die for! I've never seen more beautiful spa water! Spring water infused with perfect blends of fruits and flowers, herbs and vegetables. It was just as much art as it was a beverage. I really can not say enough in this short letter about the spa. The dressing room had the most organic feel and the showers where so clean one day I debated forgoing lunch just to spend another uninterrupted thirty minutes bathing. The raving review goes on, steam room, sauna, outdoor women's only whirlpools...the tiniest details not overlooked in every aspect of the spa.

I have eaten well during my week vacation. I'm not entirely sure what the native cuisine is in this town, but whatever I've craved I've eaten. From simple deli sandwhiches to steamed little neck clams, gourmet soups to spicy fish tacos, if I desired it, it was on the menu. It was like everyone in this town knew my favorite foods and exactly how they should be prepared. It was the best.

The vacation on a whole was the best. It was exactly what I needed. Every mother needs a break from the never ending job that is "mom." A night out here, a trip alone to the grocery store there gets you by. But eventually a mother needs more. Eventually it all adds up, the constant "on-call" of it all weighs you down. Until the moment when you snap free and say enough is enough, I need a break. This vacation was the best break I could have ever asked for. I will go back tomorrow, refreshed with a spring in my step. I will go back a better, more patient mom. But, mostly I will go back remembering I am not just a mom.

My lofty dream, but unfortunately just fiction.

The Post of Links

I wrote my first post on December 18th, 2011. Of course, not at A Tea-Tray in the Sky. That first step into the darkside of blogging was somewhere else. I debate linking to old posts all the time. Even though it was only four months, Alice was excellent blog fodder, and I wrote a shit ton of stories about the trials and tribulations of raising her. But ultimately, I decide against it. I don't need my cover to be blown. So, to you fine readers that were fortunate enough to follow along back when Alice wasn't Alice and to the rest of you that have joined in along the way, I say thanks for coming on this journey with me. We've cried. We've laughed. We've drank a lot.

You know when you're watching Young and the Restless and the day's episode is like a wedding or a funeral. You know you're going to spend the whole hour watching a montage of memories. Nothing new is going to happen. You debate not even watching it, why waste an hour of your day, only you do watch it and it sucks. Just like you predicted. It's definitely not a Friday episode where they leave you with a cliffhanger of a car accident, a murder, someone falling through the ice at the lake, and an affair being consummated.

Today's post is kinda like that, a wedding episode. Nothing new, just a bunch of updates.

I love my car. Keyless entry kicks ass. It was everything I'd hoped it would be. And more. You know you've really made it in the world when you can push a button and your car doors unlock. If you happen to be one of those people that can start your car with a push of a button, please just shush. Let me bask in the glory for a little longer. Did I tell you I have heated seats? I warm my ass every chance I get. The hierarchy in my car is quite obvious. Check your ass, if it's cold on the ride to school your ranking in the family is not quite as high as mine.

Remember how I was struggling to get into my book and I wanted to quit but you guys convinced me that giving up was the wrong thing to do? You encouraged me to keep reading and I finally got hooked on Bossypants. Well. I downloaded a book to my iPad the other day. Hangs head in shame. I'm still only 111 pages into Tina Fey's book and I temporarily gave up. I bought Reflected in You by Sylvia Day. Apparently I truly am addicted to trashy novels. I heard the faintest Crossfire chatter on twitter and I was logged into my Amazon account within minutes. Just like that I succumbed to the glorified porn temptation.

As preschool room mom, I'm in charge of the Halloween party. I can't for the life of me understand how I signed up to be room mom, how I agreed to plan parties. I detest planning parties. What was I thinking?! But here I am, planning the hell out of what will be forever known as the best Halloween party the Sprout class ever had. And the Rainbow Potluck Dinner? The Sprout families will be bringing the most purple-est purple food* the school has ever seen. We will put the rest of the classes to shame!

Remember my moss? It's still a sad plot of dirt with random patches of lush green moss. People are not impressed. Oh, but mark my word, they will be. Give it time. Maybe in 2015 people will be impressed. But now, they are all laughing at me. "Crazy Nelly, weeding the dirt again." I'll update you with a new pic so you can have a good laugh as soon as I weed the dirt.

In the northeast we are heading into cold weather. Not there yet, and I'm not rushing it along. But I know with every leaf that falls we are getting a degree closer to cold and snow and ice. He still can't find his coat. And he better not think his absentmindedness gives him the excuse to buy a new one. He's going to have to grin and bear it with lots of layers. Natural consequences of life.

Today marks the fourth day since Alice has had a bath. That's right. She had a bath after swimming class on Monday and she hasn't had one since. Today's Friday. I've noticed paint and yogurt in her hair and it hasn't bothered me one bit. This morning I was finally forced to brush it, the mats were making parts for pigtails impossible. She isn't stinky, yet. I'm sure by tomorrow she will be. You see, it's not a school night so I have no pressing reason to bathe her tonight. It can wait till tomorrow. I guess it's fairly obvious the regular baths I boasted about were just a fad, a novelty to make myself feel like a stellar mom. Really, I'm just average. I still cry there's not enough time in the day.

So there you have it. The wedding episode. A glorious montage of A Tea-Tray in the Sky memories.

 

*Not me. I'm bringing wine. I'm too lazy to cook.

Colliding Thoughts

Today is a thinking day. I'm not entirely sure why, but my brain refuses to do, only to think. I really wanted to write, help steer my thoughts into a focused direction...but sadly that doesn't appear to be happening. Instead, I find myself staring out the window thinking. I can hear Alice upstairs singing and playing, not napping like she should be. It's just background noise for my rambling thoughts.

Nothing monumental has happened to cause the obscure mood. My mind is like Alice's favorite DVD, "The Milkshake Band." It's scratched and will continuously play and replay certain clips until someone forces the DVD player to skip over the section. It will resume playing breifly until it hits another scratch, again it will loop around and around. The DVD is really useless at this point, but every now and again I give into Alice's insistent pleas and play it, knowing it won't be long until I'm forced to fast forward and skip the fickle disc. That's my thoughts today, worthless and continuously stuck on repeat.

I'm not getting anything accomplished. Before me sits three packages. Normally I love packages...it's like adult Christmas! But today the packages sit on the coffee table and I haven't even cared to open them. Amazon goodies and fall clothes for Alice. In time, I'll get to them.

My thoughts center around the usual pickle of a life I call my own, an email I received from a friend, and an uncalled for comment I made to someone who doesn't deserve it. Each sector running around my brain bumping into each other vying for the forefront. Meanwhile, these thoughts are competing with the standard operating thoughts...dinner, laundry, afternoon arts and crafts, dishes, etc. I need to lighten my brain's workload, cut the dead weight. It's clear to me now, I need to let the contents of the email lie. I do not need to analyze and process everything right now. Doing so will not change a thing, it will not set anything in motion, and honestly, nothing will be clearer. Second, I need to make right a wrong. I don't know what my intentions were in making the spiteful comment, but I know I was at fault. It didn't need to be said, and regardless of whether the person was offended, I need to apologize.

Phew...I already feel better. I do believe, now that I have that sorted, there will be more room for my thoughts to rotate in an orderly fashion. Look at that, writing did help me focus my thoughts after all. I didn't tell you a funny tale or talk about poop and pee, but, hey...everyday can't be a good story.

Have You Seen My (fill in the blank)

There's a person in my life that loses everything. I won't mention any names. I've already had to join the blogger protection program once before, not looking to do it again.

I don't even know how it's possible to lose some of the shit that disappears. Take for example a winter coat. How in world does a grown person lose a winter coat in your own home? It's only been a handful of months since it was last needed. Yet, it happened. How about a cell phone charger for the brand new iPhone 5? Mine hasn't even been delivered yet and somehow, in a matter of days, this person lost theirs. I could go on and on and on and on...sunglasses, debit cards, keys, concert tickets, shoes, et cetera, et cetera.

I tell you fine readers this saga because it amuses me. It didn't always. It used to drive me batty. Worse than batty. Wars have been fought over this shit. But somewhere in the last few years, I let it go. I realized it wasn't my belongings that were being lost (most of the time,) so I got over it and started laughing more.

I'm not a vindictive bitch, I've tried helping this person rectify the problem. I've put into place systems, a place for everything, everything in its place. Except no matter how I suggest, prompt, or bitch nag things don't end up in their place. And then they disappear. Maybe I'm blaming the wrong person. Possibly, and I'm going out on a limb here, these items all get up and walk away. It's some kind of sick trick they're playing. I dunno. All I know is the misfortune of one is entertainment to another. I am allowed that privilege as compensation for putting up with it for so many years. Retribution, if you will.

I had a good laugh this morning. Remember that iPhone charger? Well, apparently the replacement that was purchased just yesterday, turned up missing. It was only MIA for a few moments, but for those moments I was peeing my pants laughing, in my head of course.

Not Exactly the Hostess with the Mostest

I'm a shitty hostess. I try hard, but when it's all said and done I'm just not cut out for the job. Some people, the Martha Stewart types, live for opportunities to show off their skills. My goal is just to make it through.

I have had overnight house guests for three weekends in a row. Frankly, I'm sick of it. See? That's the kind of statement that would never escape the lips of the hostess with the mostest. I've always suspected I'm a lousy host. Today I confirmed my suspicions.

My brother inlaw and his friend, let's call her Sally, arrived late last night from New York City. This morning I tried my damnedest to be a kick ass host. They were only going to be here for an hour and a half before they had to leave for an all day music concert at a nearby venue. I had ninety minutes to shine. I laid out fresh towels. I baked cinnamon buns. I brewed coffee. I even hand delivered them to Sally while she played with Alice. I was on a roll! When it was time for the duo to leave, I even gave Sally a travel mug for her coffee and sent them on their way. The entire day has now passed and it just occured to me, I served Sally her coffee black...the way I like it. I never offered milk or sugar. It never even crossed my mind. The poor girl, not wanting to trouble me I'm sure, never said a word. I have a very nice handmade sugar bowl and creamer pitcher. The pitcher I use as a vase and I gave the sugar bowl to Alice for her play kitchen. I can't even manage to serve proper coffee.

If this incident was a one time deal, I could forgive myself. But, my friends, it's not. I don't offer my guests a glass of water, even when I myself am drinking one. Most normal people ask, "Can I get you anything? Iced tea? Water?" Not me. It doesn't even enter my brain that my friends may be parched.

I think the saddest thing is that I front like I'm a decent hostess. If you come for Easter breakfast I'll have a kick ass fruit salad, fresh baked croissants, muffins, and mimosas. But if you come for a play date, it's fend for yourself. Don't expect me to offer you anything.

Initiation Into "the real world"

"How was school? Did you have fun?" I asked Alice.

"Yes. I did the tire swing."

"By yourself or with other kids? Did you swing with Maya again?"

"With Maya and another girl. Not the girl with the ponytail but anther one. I forgot to ask her name...Mama?"

"Yes."

"I don't want to go to school tomorrow," Alice said with a very serious tone.

"Why not? It seems like you have fun playing."

"I do. School should be all playing. I don't like having to do all the stuff Miss Sharon tells me to do."

Major Accomplishment

Back in May I enrolled Alice in a one week, two and a half hour Fairy Camp at her dance school. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Yesterday morning, trying to get Alice out of the house by 9:15, didn't seem like such a good idea.

What the what was I thinking? Summer mornings are not for rushing to get out of the house by a required time. But there I was, rushing. Being the optimistic person I am, hehehe, I looked at it as a nice trial run for school in the fall. I don't work outside of the home. Alice doesn't go to daycare. We have never had to leave the house five mornings a week and arrive at our destination on time.

Let me tell you, I'm kicking ass at this being on time for ballet camp business. Two days in a row we have walked in the dance school door before camp started. Alice has eaten breakfast both days, I hear that's uber important for school. I managed to remember the dance bag both days, which I have been known to forget in the past. We arrived at camp dressed in proper attire, neither of us in pajamas. And today, not only was her hair brushed, I even decided to be a show off and french braid a section and bun the remaining loose hair up. I made those other moms look like novices today.

If this is a sign for what's to come in the fall when preschool starts, I'd say we're made in shade, baby. Golden.

What is that you veteran mom's are saying? Two days of being on time for camp has nothing to do with being on time for school every single effing day? I hear you, you parade rainers. Can't I just have my moment? Let me bask in the glory of being on time for just a little bit. That, in and of itself, is a major accomplishment. Matter of fact, I'm going to go make myself a cocktail right now to celebrate my achievements!