So you had a bad day… April 30, 2008

Okay, not so much bad, but long. My day started at 5:17 a.m. and still hasn’t ended at nearly 11 p.m. There’s no end in sight either, the whole place still needs picked up and the kitchen needs cleaned.

The kids were really trying today, mostly Beth, really. All she did, all friggin’ day, was WHINE. Everything warranted a whine, appparently: Boy is playing with a toy she was thinking [silently] about playing with, she doesn’t want to sit on the couch (even though she put herself there), she wants milk but we’re out, she wants juice but I don’t give her juice, she wants a snack but she just had one so mommy says no, she wants to watch Dora but it’s not on any of the Nik channels right now, she wants to feed the fish but mommy just fed them…the list goes on and on.

Then, I finally get to nap time and she refuses to sleep! I don’t know what it was with her today, but she just had a neverending spool of CRAP to throw in my general direction. Plus, I was tired. I actually got five consecutive hours of sleep last night (thank you, Baby Boy, for not needing a binky re-plug!) and I think it messed with my internal clock because I woke up exhausted. Then I got two bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed preschoolers screaming and chasing each other back and forth the length of the apartment. It just made for a very long day for me.

In other news, tomorrow’s payday so I can finally get a new filter and an algae eater for the fish tank! It’s been making me sad to watch those fish swimming in cloudy water, two of them with apparent swim bladder problems (they have an unmistakeable buoyancy when they’re not swimming, especially the moor), and there’s algae all over the tank decor. I realize the algae eater may get huge in our little tank, but something’s gotta give. Also, we’re considering a larger, all-glass tank. We have one of those cheap acrylic ones now, and it has a tendency to leak from the top of someone so much as lifts the top off. Not a good sign of structural integrity!

So that’s what’s new in The Fish Report. I should start a blog for them, since I’m evidently obsessed with them. Funny thing is, until we got these little buggers, I didn’t much care for fish, unless it was broiled in butter and on a plate in front of me! Now I feel like their my wet, gilled, slightly (and unintentionally) mistreated friends. I actually stuck a finger in the water last night to see if they’d nibble on it. They didn’t. But I hope they recognized the friendly gesture. I’ve never touched a live fish…sticking my finger in the water was a big step for me!

*sigh*

That’s all for tonight. Happy shopping, paying off bills, or hording with your tax rebates my faithful readers! And here’s hoping you get your money soon, if you haven’t already.

Stranger Than Fiction April 29, 2008

I honestly didn’t think I’d like this movie. I’m not Will Ferrell’s biggest fan, in fact the only movie of his I’ve enjoyed was Bewitched and that was more because I liked “I Dream of Jeannie.” But I DVRd it because, as most movies do, it held some sort of comic appeal. I wasn’t prepared for what a profound question it posed:

If you knew how and when you were going to die, would you do something to change it and alter the lives of those around you indiscriminately, or would you go forth and “accept” your death as fate has written it?

I have no idea. My initial instinct is to save myself, I have kids and a husband to think about. Also…wouldn’t that be like suicide? Walking into death’s embrace? But then, what if my final performance is similar to that in the movie: I die saving someone’s life? The life of a young boy, perhaps? Would I let that boy die just to save my own ass? I don’t think I could live with that. And I know that my husband is perfectly capable of raising our children on his own…but selfishly speaking, I don’t want him to. I want to be a part of it, not a bystander from the supposed Great Beyond!
I want to have a hand in the raising of our children, to impart wisdom, to hug them when things go wrong and take them out to dinner or go shopping.

What a conundrum: save a little boy’s life…a boy that on the other side of the coin could just as easily be my own son…or save my own life? Oy.

Thoughts?

It never stops being funny! April 26, 2008

I speak of “Friends.”

Best TV sitcom ever.

Seriously, we own Seasons 1-5, 8 (6 & 7 were unavailable at purchase time, so hubby had to make a snap decision), and 10, and no matter how often we watch them, it never stops being funny! The writers for that show deserve to be in the Academy of Television Arts & Science Hall of Fame. For people my age who watched (and a few years older, maaaybe a few years younger but not more than 2 or 3), those characters will hold a really special place in our hearts forever because we came of age with them.

I was 14 when the series debuted. All the characters (and the actors - most of them were in their mid-20s when they started the show) were 10 years older than me, but I saw them and wanted their life when I grew up. I wanted to live in NYC, I wanted a small, kitschy-but-in-an-appealing-way apartment in a historic section of the city, I wanted a career where I worked in a skyscraper and and took the subway to work. I wanted to read the Times on my way there. I wanted to sit in a coffee house with my friends after work and get take-out Chinese for dinner. I wanted a small circle of friends that were funny 24/7 and always had my back.

But I was 14 - what the hell did I know about being a grown-up and what I’d want 10 years down the road? As it turns out, I wanted nearly none of that; a lot happened between 14 and 24! I went to college, got married and figured out what was really important to me.

Anyway, I love that show. I’m kind of a nut about it. Ask me trivia, I give you a 95% guarantee I know the answer. Any other “Friends” fans out there?

“Call the popo hoe!” April 25, 2008

Seriously, I’m crazy irritated right now. [Please imagine Sofia Petrillo from the "Golden Girls"] Picture it…Hayward, 2008. The kid I watch, we’ll call him Boy, has just been dropped off for his day here. The kids are sitting at their table eating their tuna fish sandwiches, the husband - who’s home because both kids have doctor appointments today - and I are eating our lunches…and there’s a knock on the door. I look over from the desk, where I’m perusing my daily blogs, and see a cop staring at me.

*blink*

Husband answers the door, both kids come up to the door, I follow up behind. They (a man and a woman) ask us if there’s been any arguing or fighting going on, maybe any construction? Turns out, our downstairs neighbor - who’s been up here twice asking us to be quiet DURING THE DAY, when it’s perfectly within our rights to make noise. Mind you, her idea of us being overly noisy is us walking back and forth and the kids running. I watch two three-year-olds during the day, of course they’re going to be running!

Bitch, you live in an apartment. Not only that, but you live in a downstairs unit - it’s going to be noisy!!! We do our best to be quiet between 9 p.m. and 8 a.m., which according to our lease agreement, are the quiet hours of our little gated community. But at 8 a.m., I’m not going to muzzle the two kids in honor of her highness. Never in my life would I stifle a three-year-olds exuberance, save for certain occasions. But in the privacy of our four walls, forget it. We lived for four years underneath three other apartments and dealt with heavy-footed people and parties all the time. That’s the breaks!

So anyway, I called the Hayward PD after they left and the shock of have the cops called on us wore off. We wanted to know what time the call was made and the woman I spoke to not only told me that, but listened to what the situation was and completely understood our side and gave me the incident number. This way, if the woman keeps it up, we could have the option of filing harassment charges. Rob called our property manager who said (and I’m paraphrasing since I didn’t talk to her), “Yeah, she’s called us a couple of times. Maybe you should keep the kids in the loft.”

What?!

Keep two three-year-olds, whose main ambition is to climb to the highest height and JUMP, in a loft with acceess to a set of narrow, open, carpeted stairs and a three-foot wall that they could easily get on and leap off of, dropping 10 feet to the living room floor, landing on either a couch or a coffee table, possibly taking out a ceiling fan blade in the process. Now there’s smart parenting. I’d win Childcare Provider of the Year for sure then!!

I swear to God, I’m getting really fucking tired of this shit. We know we aren’t wanted here. But we’re not going to break our lease, we’re not going to bail just because YOU don’t like our Redneck Fabulous Ways. We’re here until at least next March, possibly longer if we decide to vaca next summer. So learn to love your gun-toting, motorcycle-riding, American-flag-waving, country-music-listening, Grocery-Outlet-shopping neighbors. We’re good people. We follow the rules, we obey the law and we’re trying not to cause a raucus. Please don’t force our hand.

Ah, to be young again. April 22, 2008

As 30 draws closer and closer (okay, so it’s 17 months away…but just wait until you’re almost 29 and tell me how close 30 feels), I mourn my youth. Granted, I’m still very young in most people’s eyes, but I watch my three-year-old race around our place with the other three-year-old I watch every day and I’m saddened by how bad I’ve let myself get.

I’m horribly overweight. I don’t take care of myself at all. I drink Diet Coke 95% of the time. I wake up with it, I go to bed after having a can too. I only keep a water bottle by my bed in case I’m thirsty when I wake up with the baby. This may be why I’m not sleeping well. Seriously, I drink about five cans a day. My diet’s not terrible, but it could be better. I snack far too often, a hazard of being a SAHM. One kid playing, another kid sleeping? Snacktime! Older kid’s hungry? Funny, I’m hungry too! My gosh, is it lunchtime already?

We could walk after dinner, were we not in Hayward. I refuse to leave this complex after dark in this town, especially with my kids in tow. Walking was great in Fremont - totally safe, pretty neighborhood. It was really pretty, until they wanted $1400/month for a 1-br apartment. Right.

Seriously, May 9th can’t get here quickly enough. That’s the day our tax rebate gets deposited. That’s also the day I march my ass into 24 Hr. Fitness and sign up for a year’s prepaid membership. That’s also the day I turn my life around.

It’s going to be hard as hell. I have approximately 90 lbs. to lose. There, I said it, I put it out there. It’s a lot. I’ve gained a lot of weight. I often wonder what I’ll look like when I drop it all. I can’t wait to start working out! I watch all those people on “The Biggest Loser” completely transform themselves and I just know that if I set my mind to it, I can do the same thing. I haven’t weighed what I want to weigh since I was 14 or so. How sad is that?

I digress, I’ve got a tough row to hoe, but I’m positive I can do it. Not only can I do it, I have to do it.

Gonna take a sentimental journey… April 21, 2008

What is it with me lately? I’m just awestruck with my kids. Beth just turned three at the end of January and since then, it’s like Little Beth left and Big Girl Beth moved in. She’s developing manners (polite thing she is too: at a friends birthday party, she was wandering around with a napkin desperately seeking a garbage can!), she potty trained in three or four days, she’s trying to dress herself, her language has really turned a corner and she wants to pronounce things correctly, she’s being helpful not just with Robby but with my chores, and with everything she does, it’s, “I do it,” or “I help.” No more miss Dependent-on-Mommy-or-Daddy.

Robby will be six months old this week. Didn’t I just rush to the hospital with four-minutes-apart contractions last week?? He’s babbling, trying to self-feed, rolling all over the house, sitting up and trying to crawl, and giving mommy kisses! Before I know it, he’ll be toddling around here like it’s the thing to do.

And all I want to do is cry. He’s my last baby. At least, that’s the plan. The way I’m feeling, I may very well change my mind about that! My babies are growing up at a whirlwind pace and I’m afraid that all that innocence, all that wonder of watching your children become more and more independent is going to slip away far too quickly. I love those kids SO MUCH. I want them to be my babies forever and to need me for the rest of their lives - the way they need me now.

If I have any readers who have older children or grown children, please tell me that everything’s going to be okay! Tell me that they will always be my babies, no matter how old they get, and that they’ll always need me. Maybe not to change their diaper or help them reach something…but to give them a hug or $20 if they need it.

No one can truly understand the power your kids have on your heart until you have one yourself. I highly recommend it - never in your life will you feel as much, as strongly, as you do when you look at your child.

Summertime…and the livin’s easy… April 20, 2008

It’s hard to believe another summer is nearly upon us, and it seems the older we get (and the older our children get), the more we have to do each summer! With summer comes at least three trips to Santa Cruz, our favorite little beach town. We love going there; we always do a driving tour and drive past the Boardwalk. We have lunch at Cole’s BBQ on Portola Dr (technically, it’s in Capitola, but I don’t keep track like that - it’s all Santa Cruz to me!) and hit the 7-11 before coming home. This summer, I’d like to do more down there. I’d like to go to the Mystery Spot and get one of those bumper stickers I’ve been seeing for the last five years I’ve lived here. I’d like to go into a few of the shops in town. I’d like to get a little motel room and watch the sun set. I watched it set over Monterey Bay from 17-Mile-Drive once; it was beautiful. I want to take the kids to the boardwalk. I want to get a tattoo. And I want caricatures drawn of us and our kids. Oh, and the perfect day. That’s not asking too much, right?

Damn.

Anyway, in addition to that, we’re going to my husbands family reunion from his grandmother’s side of the family. It’s in Placerville this year, which is totally exciting because that means we’re camping! In the six and a half years we’ve been together, Rob’s been toting around this four-person tent in hopes that someday we’d camp. That day has come. All we need now is either a big air mattress or a few sleeping bags and general camping gear. I can’t wait to shop for that stuff!

What I can wait for is the camping experience itself. By birth, I’m a country/small-town girl. By nature, I’m a city creature. I don’t like bugs. Wildlife, while beautiful on greeting cards and on the Discovery Channel, terrifies me. I’m deathly afraid of snakes. I don’t like being cold. I don’t care for squatting to pee (and I won’t even broach the subject of #2). I need a daily shower.

So to put me in the great outdoors in a tent and nothing more…I pity the fools who ask me if I’m having a good time! I’m probably just psyching myself out, I’m sure I’ll have a good time. But those underlying fears and discomforts…they’ll be there, lying in wait, biding their time until a cavalcade of misery surrounds me in the moonlight in the foothills of the great Sierra Nevadas.

On the upside of this summer, it’s the se-ea-son of weight loss! Thanks to our stimulus package (which sounds like a sexual innuendo used by CPAs), we’re signing up for gym memberships again, something we abandoned due to lack of use back in 2004. I can’t wait to get this started again. We actually don’t eat too bad, we’re just sedentary, similar to koalas high on eucalyptus. We like to sit.

So that’s it. Here’s hoping it all works out and we have lots of memories to pack into our file for 2008. I’m sure there will be many funny tales to share in the months to come. Stay tuned for Darcie’s Follies!

I’m all choked up over strawberries April 18, 2008

For two weeks now, I’ve been a “daycare provider” (nay, I’m really just a babysitter) for a little boy who’s Beth’s age.  I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to handle another wild ‘n crazy preschooler while taking care of a baby, but to be honest, we needed the extra money now that we’re in a pricier domicile.  So I took the plunge, posted an ad, and within a week got a bite.

I’ll say it, I’ve got my hands full.  The boy I watch is only now starting to understand that I’m in charge when he’s at my place and up until the last couple of days, it was me versus him.  A battle of wills to see who would prevail as the most stubborn!  I’m winning.  Anyway, I’m finally getting it together.  That’s not to say that the two of them don’t make me want to start smoking again fray my nerves a bit from time to time, but I’m finding that he’s a bit more compliant with the rules I’ve set.  They’re pretty basic: don’t run or jump on the couch, be careful around the baby, etc. 

But what I’ve really noticed is the change in my daughter’s behavior every day.  She turns into this screaming, laughing, smiling running-around-like-crazy little girl when he’s here.  She loves having a playmate here every day!  She plays her heart out, runs herself into the ground.  By 5 p.m. every day, her hair’s a fright, she’s got a coat of sweat on her head, and five new bruises on her shins…but she’s happy. 

Then Boy leaves, and it’s like a someone flips a switch in her head.  Suddenly, she’s sweet, helpful, chatty, and lovey.  My husband brought this to my attention tonight - she cherishes her private time with mommy and daddy!  She barely says three words to me the entire time Boy is here because she’s too busy playing and of course, daddy’s at work so she doesn’t see him all day.  So when it’s evening and the excitement’s over, she makes the most of the few hours she has before bed…and it’s absolutely wonderful. 

Tonight, she started helping mommy in the kitchen.  We washed dishes, cut up a pineapple and washed and sugared strawberries for an angel food cake.  After I left the kitchen, she continued to wipe down the counter!  I really, really, really love that little girl.  Enjoy the pictures. 

 

Plants, pets, and people. April 17, 2008

That’s what a passing-through character on “Desperate Housewives” said when he was explaining to Bree why he couldn’t date her.  He was a recovering sex addict.  His counselors told him that he first had to learn how to care for plants, then pets, and finally people.

I’m the other way around.  I can care for people just fine.  I happen to think my husband’s life has only improved with my presence, and my kids are always clean and the one who understands manners, has them.  I keep a decent house, we’re all fed, and everyone sees the doctor when necessary. 

And we have pets.  The cat lives the easy life.  I clean his shitbox, I feed him kitty kibble and put fresh water in his dish every night before I go to bed, which is when he deems it safe to eat.  No feet milling around the kitchen to disturb his feast.  But then there are the fish…

Dammit, I’m trying to do good by them!  They’re just fish, and I realize that, not even particularly expensive ones, as they’re “just” fancy goldfish.  My husband insisted on them, stating that they were for Beth, who loves looking at those sick and dying fish at Walmart (that’s another blog for another time).  We got our six fish from Petco…where the pets go.  :-) 

We have an 6.6 gallon tank, a shipwreck bubble-creator, two pieces of coral, two fake plants and a treasure chest.  And blue rocks, can’t forget the blue rocks Beth picked out!  Anyway, I have many complaints on the fish’s behalf:

• The tank’s too small.  They need at least a 40 gallon tank, if not bigger.
• There’s algae growing everywhere, but Rob insists that it’s good for the tank.  I’m almost inclined to believe him, as I see these fish eating it off the “coral” daily.
• We’ve not changed the water in 7 weeks.  Shouldn’t it be changed weekly?
• They’re eating flakes and I think they need something a little more expensive, like pellets or fresh vegetables or something.

Two of them, the Ryukin and the Moor, are spending a hell of a lot of time at the surface, the black one floats almost all day long!  He’s fine - he’ll come down and eat some algae and hide in one of the coral pieces occasionally, especially at night when I turn the light off.  But I’m convinced they have a swim bladder problem.

These fish aren’t investments, I realize that.  But I hate having bought these fish, bought the aquarium, the decor, etc., and then treating them like redheaded stepchildren.  In my mind, they should be treated like any other pet.  But I can’t convince my husband of that. 

Men.

I could just do all this stuff myself, but I’ve never owned goldfish before, so I tend to believe him when he says that they’re fine.  I’m so conflicted.  Should I even be spending this much time and effort worrying about $30 worth of goldfish?

The Wonders of the Potty April 15, 2008

When Beth turned one, I had visions of having that kid who wanted to potty train before she was two. Just took a sudden and tenacious interest in the bathroom and learned it all in a week. By her 2nd birthday, I’d given up the dream. By 2.5 years old, I figured she’d be in diapers until kindergarten. On her 3rd birthday, I’d stretched out that deadline to high school graduation. She just didn’t care! We read her books, let her try on underwear, showed her DVDs, talked to her about it…NOTHING. Then, about a month after we moved in here, she just took up an interest in it and after two days of being naked, she figured it out. She’s been in underwear (day AND night) for over two weeks now and has only had 3 accidents, only one of which was at night!! We’re so proud of her!

There’s definitely something to be said for waiting until the CHILD is ready, not potty training when YOU’RE ready. It took us all of a few days!!! Most people who insist on training them early on, they’re at it for months! Silliness, I tell you!

Sometimes, I just can’t stand how much I love that little girl. My heart just bursts with pride and love and joy for both of my kids. They kick ass!