The Fart Machine Mystery

After feeling down for the last, well, forever, I thought it was time for some fun. so, I'm going to make a confession. My family is obsessed with farts (okay Stephanie and Tracy, don't look me directly in the eye next time you see me). We talk about farts, laugh about farts, even read about farts.


So, knowing our preoccupation with farting, the Easter Bunny brought my son an electronic whoppee cushion for Easter. Every time we push the button, both of my kids erupt in laughter (as well as my husband and myself). We passed a lot of time playing with this machine. Anyway, when it was time to pack to come home from FL, I turned off the whoppee cushion and packed it in my suitcase. Well, four nights later, my suitcase is still sitting in my bedroom not totally unpacked. Two nights ago, I heard farting. It woke me out of a sound sleep. In the morning, I basically forgot about it. Then, last night, as my husband and I were getting ready for bed, we heard it again. It came more frequently. And, no, it wasn't one of us! We searched it out and found the fart machine in my suitcase, still turned off. How did it continue to fart when it was off? Oh, the mystery!

A Good Mom

Last night, my husband and I were talking in bed. I was crying, of course, about my whole dad thing. They have also been nights that I've cried about things with my mom. (I'm obviously oversensitive about things with my parents....) I turned to my husband and asked him if our kids will be in their thirties crying about me one day to their spouses. He answered, "probably." He wasn't being malicious. I think he really thinks that no one really likes their parents when they are older. That made me feel really bad.

We talked about it some more. I realized that my mom tried. She was a single mom who worked many jobs to give me everything, and I mean everything, I wanted. I was spoiled. My mom made some bad choices (a long story, not as sordid as it sounds) in order to keep me in all the things she thought I wanted, but she meant well. Plus, my mom always made time for me. Every Friday, my mom and I had girls' night out. We went out to eat, shopping, the movies, whatever. I remember that a lot of my friends were envious of my relationship with my mother. Things changed as they often do, but I still can count on my mom (even when she's annoying me). My husband asked me to think about something specific from my childhood about my mother that made me happy. This is what I came up with. I could talk to my mom about anything. Yes, anything. I got drunk and needed a ride home, I called my mom. I had sex with my boyfriend, I talked to my mom (okay, maybe a few months later during a break-up, but I could talk to her). She will listen and listen and listen. Even as an adult, when things are really terrible, after talking to my husband, I still want to call my mom. I think that says something great about what she did for me. I'm going to try to remember that when I'm aggravated with her next time.

Thanks Mom!

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly -- My trip to FL

Well, I returned last night around 11:15 PM (not a good time w/two little ones) after being delayed more than two hours in Daytona Beach's airport. Let's just say I'm glad to be home.

The Good

I thought I would start with some of the positives. My kids had a really great time on the beach (at least the first couple of times). The first day on the beach was excellent. They were laughing and splashing as the waves came in. I wish I had videotaped that first day because it was priceless. Of course, I waited until the last day to videotape on the beach and by then my kids were cranky and hating it!

Disney, in between the tantrums, was alot of fun. My son was so cute playing shy with Cinderella and Snow White. I really think I have a heartbreaker on my hands in the future (and I did get that on video). My daughter was so excited to meet the princesses, too. She even told them her name, which is huge because she really doesn't like to talk to strangers (I guess that has it's good points, right?) And, my daughter turns out to be a thrillseeker. She went on the family size roller coaster not once, but twice and sat in the front car both times. For a kiddie roller coaster, it was quite exciting. She yelled her head off; it was so much fun!

Sea World was good, too. I loved when my son, after tantruming for 45 minutes, calmed down, went to the Shamu show, and yelled WHALE!!! like crazy when he saw Shamu. I didn't even know he knew that word! My daughter was entralled by this cheesy dance show and wanted to meet the dancers. Of course, when I ran down to meet them, she froze up. But, I'm sure I have a nice picture of me with the dancers (if that's what I can call them).

The Bad

Well, it was truly uncomfortable with my dad and his estranged wife. They did try (in the beginning) to have it seem normal. But, it wasn't. It couldn't be. I'm just thankful my two little ones are too young to catch on. My step-mom tried to tell me a bunch of stuff and I had to tell her I can't deal with it all anymore and I'm sorry. She did back off then.

My daughter got sick on vacation. As a child, I did the same thing on EVERY vacation. She still has a little bit of an upset stomach. But, for the most part, she was a trouper. Of course, she's deathly afraid of automatic flushing toilets (which are plentiful at Disney and Sea World), so she had several potty accidents which she doesn't ever have.

My son was in rare form when it came to temper tantrums. I couldn't tell what set him off and then they would last forever. At one point, a stranger tried to take him from me to hold. Is that helpful? I think my kids are sooo tired.

The Ugly

Well, my father left early. You may think that doesn't sound so bad after the tension. But, that left us with no where to hang out before our flight yesterday at 5PM. My kids were out of control, driving around in a rented mini-van. We get to the airport early to find out all flights are delayed. More ugliness ensues. Not to mention, I'm so fuming mad at my dad (that's a whole other post another time). My step-mom calls in the morning hysterically crying (that was a comfortable call), so hanging out at her condo in the AM didn't seem like an option.

I'm not sure if this part is bad or ugly. My daughter is afraid of wind. She always says it's too windy to go outside. Then, if I coax her out even on a breezy day and she sees some leaves blow, she FREAKS and starts chasing the leaves trying to collect them all. This happens at home and on vacation. I have a long summer ahead of me!

Thank you all for your supportive comments. I've survived and am looking forward to staying home for awhile.

PS The plane rides were okay. Could have been better, but could have been a lot worse. So, all in all, that wasn't too bad.

Vacation?

Well, tomorrow, at 5:15AM, we leave for the airport to hop a flight to sunny FL for the Easter holdiay. A vacation, right? I really wonder.

First of all, I have to pack up two little ones, a husband and myself in one suitcase because we don't really have an extra set of hands to carry too much stuff, run after a 3-year-old and an almost 2-year-old.

Second, we have to pack up their car seats once we get to the airport (since we need to use them to get there) and then somehow carry them w/our luggage.

While my husband did find the DVD cords, we have to brave a plane ride that is full with the two little ones, with my son (hopefully) sitting on my lap the whole time. Of course, we couldn't get the bulkhead seat. At least it's a short plane ride, right?

And, then, the vacation may start. But, I forgot to tell you who is picking us up at the airport in FL -- my father and his estranged wife. Should be very comfortable I think.

So, in addition to trying to keep my kids under control on vacation, getting them to sleep okay, and dealing with the tension that must be present between everyone with my dad's situation, I should have a really good, relaxing time. It did seem like a good idea when we planned the trip last summer. Again, I'm not sure what I was thinking.

Wish me luck and I'll let you know how it goes next week.

Tag -- Six Things

I've already posted today, but I was tagged by The Reluctant Housewife. Actually, I'm quite excited to be tagged. It makes me feel apart of it all.

So, here it goes. I've been asked to reveal six weird facts/things/habits about myself and then tag six people.

1. When I was younger, I wouldn't sleep with covers on because I was afraid tarantulas would crawl out of my bed onto me. (Maybe it was the whole Brady Bunch in Hawaii episode).

2. I have a significant fear of tsunamis. At the beach as a youngster, I was constantly convinced that the 2-3 foot wave heading my way was turning into a tidal wave. I even dream about them.

3. I'm afraid that a cab driver will not take me where I asked and kidnap me.

4. I relax with a cup of decaf tea every night. Some nights I don't even really want it, but I feel compelled to make it and drink it.

5. I tape any TV show that starts at 9PM or later that I want to watch and I then watch it the next day. I just can't guarantee that I'll make it up for the whole thing.

6. I love to read Nora Roberts books (even though it's the same story over and over with different characters). I find them an escape from the real world.

Okay, I did it. It's not a pretty picture, is it? I'd have to question my sanity. Anyway, I'll tag 6 people.

1. Stephanie
2. The Mom Squad
3. Something Baby Blue
4. Another Mommy Moment
5. A Day in the Life
6. Dalian Moon

Here are the rules:
1. Reveal six weird facts/things/habits about yourself and then tag six people
2. Leave a "You're Tagged!" comment to let the people you have tagged know they have to reveal six things (or the entire blogosphere will explode and it will be their fault)
3. Leave me a comment letting me know that you have completed your mission (if you have chosen to accept it!)

Regrets?

Last night, when I couldn't fall asleep, I let my thoughts drift to an easier time, when I was a youngster. I often do this when I'm feeling stress about my current life and I make up stories about how my life could have been different. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband and my family and I wouldn't change having them for anything. But, after saying that, there are times I fantasize about missed chances.

When I was growing up, I had the biggest crush on this guy whose family was friends with my family. I would say it lasted from the time I was eight until I got married (and maybe a little after I got married). Everyone knew about this crush, including the guy. We'd flirt, he came to my prom with me, and everyone, including us, would joke that one day we'd marry. That's the extent of the relationship. Nothing more.

Anyway, there was this one time I was visiting him at college. I was with some friends who were going to a party at his school. I tagged along, hoping to see my "crush." Well, I did. We hung out for the rest of the night, drinking. As he was taking me back to find my friends, we got lost. I sort of forgot which dorm they were in (on purpose). So, we're standing in the stairwell of one dorm, nobody around. I'm on one step and he's facing me about one step down. We're eye to eye. I remember thinking I should just ask him if I could kiss him once. We were smiling at each other. He had that twinkle in his eye. I really wanted to just give him one kiss, a real kiss. We've had enough platonic kisses for a lifetime. But, I chickened out. I did spend the night with him (not what you think). I slept on the couch in his room and he took me back to my friends in the morning.

This is what I think about sometimes when I'm feeling bad. Except, in my fantasy, we do kiss. And, it's wonderful! But, reality is pretty wonderful, too. When you overlook the stress of adulthood and parenting, I hit the jackpot with my guy and I wouldn't give it up for anything. But, to have had that one kiss would have been great.

Which Way Do I Go?

It is beautiful out today. Spring has sprung, again. I should be excited that we won't be stuck inside all day. But, now I'm just frustrated. I took my two little ones to the park, I packed a lunch and pictured a long morning playing ending with a relaxing picnic lunch before naptime. WRONG~

I get to the park. It starts out okay. My son and daughter are actually playing near each other. I'm able to keep an eye on both of them. I see my neighbor there and recognize some other moms and kids. But, nothing good lasts too long. My daughter runs off to the sand area. My son starts to take a walk (away from us). I try to redirect them both to something in common. At one point, a stranger says she'll watch my daughter if I need to go with my son. Thanks, but, ah, no way! Every time I pick up my son to bring him closer to my daughter, he screams. My daughter just ignores me altogether. I can't be in two places at once. I was so angry (probably overreacting a bit), but we left after 1/2 hour. That's all I could take.

I feel embarrased about how things worked out in front of these other mothers I know (okay, I don't know them well, but I still see them all around and I know all their kids' names if not their names). I feel angry that I feel trapped in this house on a beautiful day. I feel terrible that I can't seem to control my kids and I see other kids that are so cooperative and want to do things together. My kids beat to their own drummer.

Okay, I was able to get them out in the backyard for about an hour after we got home and I calmed down. But, I'd like to be able to leave with them and go someplace besides here. I'm tired of here.

Black Hole

I am living in a black hole where things disappear to never be seen again. I used to be an organized person. I never, and I mean never, lost anything. Now, I can't find anything. I lose my keys at least 2xday. Sunglasses -- I go weeks without any because they disappear constantly (at least they tend to reappear, although usually on a rainy or overcast day). My last pair of sunglasses were found in my daughter's strawberry backpack. Why didn't I think to look there?

I've lost a pair of Geoffrey Beane pants. This is extremely disappointing because these are the only pants that truly fit me correctly. All my other pants that I get at JCPenny or Old Navy are too long, too tight in the thighs, etc. My Geoffrey Beane pants are the best. What I don't understand is how I can lose a pair of pants. I don't go anywhere where I could leave them. I've looked everywhere, in my husband's side of the closet, in my kids' rooms, in duffle bags hidden under the bed covered in dust. No luck. I'm starting to think I only dreamed about these pants.

I have misplaced my digital camera more times than I care to admit. I'm just thankful that it always turns up before my husband really freaks out. The last time, though, it was his fault. He found it inside the kids' Radio Flyer wagon after a trip to the zoo. I feel for my friend Stephanie who has recently lost her camera. Although, I think she is sort of glad, am I right Stephaine?

My current obsession to find are the cords to my portable DVD machine. I need the ones that plug it into the wall for power, charge the battery and let it play on the TV. We leave for FL on Saturday and w/o those wires I'm sunk. I've found enough telephone cord to connect my entire street. I've found color-coded wires, none of which fit into my DVD machine. I know I used them on my trip to Boston in February, but no where to be found. I'm starting to panic. Will this turn into another expense we don't need? Because, I'm definitely not leaving NJ w/o those wires even if it costs me money I can't afford. My sanity is at stake.

Of course, toys come and toys go. Like my husband and myself, my children can never find anything. I've tried to use this as a lesson for them to put things away when they are done so they can find things when they want them. Hmmm, maybe I should consider doing just that?

Got Prayer?

Warning: This post is about my personal dilemma with prayer. It is not meant to demane any specific religion, only to speak to my current struggle.

I was raised a Catholic. By this I mean my parents ensured that I got all my sacraments, that's it. I went to CCD, but not to church (except to receive before mentioned sacraments). For a few years in my youth, my mother took me to a Southern Baptist church where I attended Sunday school. I have to say I learned more about the Bible there than in all my years of CCD. Anyway, we eventually stopped going there, too. I'm really not sure why. But, I know I developed a feeling of disgust. Many of the people I've encountered that are strict churchgoers are often the most judgmental people I know. I know this is a generalization and may only be related to my experiences. But, nevertheless, it soured me to "organized" religion. I always felt I was religious in that I prayed constantly. I mean all the time -in the shower, on the toilet, while driving, while cooking, (you get the idea). Anyway, when I got engaged, my husband asked me to start going to church with him every week. He comes from a very Catholic family (by which I mean they go to church on Sunday and holy days of obligation). I agreed and then I became entrenched in the whole idea. I was the one that started to make sure we went to Mass, we went to confession (which I have tons of issues with), we participated in church activities. This continued through us having our two kids. After my son was born, I decided to teach CCD. Once I started to this, something changed. I stopped making everyone get up to go to church. In fact, we stopped going altogether. I was probably the only CCD teacher who didn't attend Mass regularly. But, what bothers me the most is I also stopped praying. While I've gotten back into bringing my kids to church (I guess the Catholic guilt caught up with me), I still can't pray. I try, it just doesn't come. Not even at church. And, with the way things are going this year, I could really use the prayers. I've really started worrying about this problem. It's been well over a year since I've been able to pray. I guess I'll keep on keeping on and hope it all comes back. I just don't understand where my ability to pray could have gone. It's lost and I'd like to find it.

To Love is to Hurt

You know how they say that it's the ones closest to you that can hurt you the most. It is so very true. My little 3-year-old daughter can make me so happy one minute and then be so hurtful the next. I know she's only three and doesn't know for sure what she's doing, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. I can only shudder at the power she'll have when she's a teenager and really knows what she is doing.

Yesterday, my daughter woke up with the worst case of chapped lips I've ever seen. Her lips were caked with dried blood as was her two fron teeth. I could feel the pain. I tried to put some Vitamin E on it to soothe it and my daughter freaked. She started yelling and crying and wouldn't let me near her with the vitamin. Trying to convince her to let me help, I say, "Doesn't mommy always take care of you?" This was probably my mistake. I never should have asked that. My lovely daughter says, "No, Daddy takes care of me." I felt like she had just punched me in the stomach. Tears well up in my eyes. I have to leave the room.

I call my husband for some reassurance. Of course he tells me she didn't know what she was saying and that I am a great mom. Yet, it still hurts. I really had a tough time getting over it all day yesterday. It still stings a little today.

I'm trying to remember the Thanksgiving card that she made for us in November. It said:

Dear Mommy and Daddy:
I am thankful for my home.

I'm telling myself that she knew what she was saying here and trying to tell myself she didn't know what she was saying yesterday. Oh, the hurt yet to come.

Dodged A Bullet -- Sort Of

Well, thank you for the supportive comments regarding my in-law predictament. I should let you know that I cancelled the egg hunt not too long after I wrote my last post. My daughter had been cranky all morning. After telling her for the upteenth time, in not the nicest tone a mother coulduse, to stop whining, she told me her head hurt. I felt her forehead, and, lo and behold, it was warm. So, after the initial feeling of guilt for yelling at her while she wasn't feeling well, I took her temperature (101.2), gave her medicine, and then told my husband we had to cancel with his family. My daughter's behavior improved after the medicine and I was feeling pretty good. I thought to myself, a little fever is a small price to pay to avoid the in-laws (yes, I am ashamed). But, my daughter quickly deteriorated in the afternoon and has been sick all weekend. Now I feel terrible for being happy, at first. Is she suffering for me?? Of course, I've been showering her with attention (until she tells me to leave her alone). An hour before bed, her fever broke and she wanted pizza. So, maybe the worst is behind us. But, I still feel bad that part of me was glad she was sick.

What was I thinking?

I haven't written much about my in-laws which surprises because they are chock full of stories. My close friends say there's a book in there somewhere. I should just say I am not one of my in-laws favorite people, nor are they mine. I do get along with my husband's one sister and her family and my husband's brother/wife. However, I've had several exchanges with my mil, fil, and other sister-in-law that have left me with little to NO respect for any of them. In fact, seeing my one sister-in-law makes me feel sick to my stomach. Those are stories for another time.

Anyway, I've been lucky enough to avoid the unfavorite three since before Christmas except for a brief encounter at my brother-in-law's new house. This is coming to an end this weekend. My mil was trying to have everyone over their house next weekend for an Easter Egg hunt. We're busy next weekend and then we're going away for Easter. So, I offer to my husband to invite his mother and father over to see the kids. Now, for reasons incomprehensible to me, it is impossible for my mother and father-in-law to separate from my one sister-in-law (who lives with them and her daughter). So, at first, they tell us they can't come because my niece's father is visiting on Sunday. Why this affects my mil and fil's ability to visit, I'm not sure. But, I digress. Then, later in the afternoon, we get a message from my mil that it's great that we can have everyone over for an Easter Egg hunt. Everyone, I think? What? My husband calls her back and she says she checked with my sil and they can come over in the afternoon after my niece's father leaves. She goes on to say she would host it, but something about fertilizer on the grass.

So, now, my thought of having just my mil and fil over for an egg hunt with my kids has turned into a family get together for 14 people (many of whom I could do without). I will be spending my Saturday cleaning and cleaning and cleaning.... I have decided not to cook and to order pizza for everyone tomorrow. I'm over trying to impress too much. I can't win anyway.

But I just want to know, what was I thinking????