Every year since Bella has had a birthday party, it’s always been a really big deal. I believe it has something to do with the fact that when I was little I seldom remember having a party.So,when it comes to my girls, we love to celebrate the party in a big way. I mean, who doesn’t love a party? I am fully aware that the Bellapalooza of 2009, when she turned 4, was a bit excessive. I do recall something like 4 parties being had in a one week span of time. There was the family party on her actual birthday, the Fancy Nancy tea and spa experience with her fellow ballerinas, then there was the birthday play date celebration and last but not least the extended family and traveling friends party. It really was Bellapalooza but it was so much fun & Bella has since referred to her birthday week as Bellapalooza.
The cakes made by the Big Guy!
This year, Bella was adamant that she wanted a Alice in Wonderland birthday party.This girl always wants a theme that is “not available” in stores. Of course you can’t find party favors for Alice in Wonderland, so we improvise..as always. But this year, I was determined to keep the party to 1! After 6 years of birthday parties, I’ve come to the realization that the party is about the birthday girl having fun..the rest is not important. So, after much searching and creativity, we found just the right decorations. It was a small party with all the immediate family and a few friends and classmates.
Obviously, Bella dressed as Alice.She dresses in costume for every theme party.
The Wonderland aspect of this party was really the friendship and family. Bella was over the moon that her friends from school and her play date friends were all there to celebrate with her. She was also over the moon because her Grandpa Manny, my Dad, who normally comes and serenades her on her birthday ( this is a long standing tradition in our home. He has serenaded me and my sisters every birthday with Las mananitas (traditional Mexican birthday song) since we were born. Bella was absolutely devastated that he would be out of the country for this birthday party) called from Mexico to play the guitar and serenade her.All was right with the world!
Bella (Alice) & her best friend.By sheer coincidence, he came as the Mad Hatter (her favorite character).*Awwww,swoon*
Party was a huge success and birthday girl was over the moon! The.End!
[fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”]Photo courtesy of the internet
Starbucks, Keurig, Diet Dr. Pepper, and Diet coke are all collateral damage of a bad girl gone good.Yesterday was Fat Tuesday. Fat Tuesday! You know that one day of year that all of us Catholics live for.It’s the day ( more like the 5 day weekend) that we go crazy stuffing our faces with rich foods, drinking libations of the most toxic variety,and partaking of any and all activities that may fall under the verboten category on Wednesday. If there is any way shape or form that a particular item can be considered pleasurable, you can be sure, we, devout Catholics, are trying to consume as much as we can, as fast as we can. We are storing up our pleasures to sustain as over our long religious hibernation. It usually consists of a lot of really good people doing some really , maybe not so good things, for beads while stuffing their faces and filling their bellies.It’s a mad dash for the finish line before the game gets reset and we have to go to the back of the line. It should be renamed Sodom and Gomorrah day because unofficially, that’s what it is. It’s the day before the day that we make a great sacrifice for the next 40 days. It’s sort of our annual last hurrah. Because, really….we KNOW it’s going to be a long 40 days and nights. Depending on what you are giving up, it could be longer. I’m no half asser . I tend to give up the things I like the most, my vices.
This morning, as we all awoke in the cold light of day with our Fat Tuesday hangovers, it hit me like a ton of bricks that today was WEDNESDAY. Yesterdays was “that” day, but today is “THIS” day…Ash Wednesday. The official start of our 40 day sacrifice. For my very first accountable Lent, I gave up red meat. Oh No she didn’t. OH YES, I DID! And to prove that I’m no half asser, I was a vegetarian for the next 10 years. I was eventually done in by a McDonald’s cheeseburger, but I digress, that’s an entirely different post. I’ve given up cursing in the past. I realize that I should be embarrassed that cursing is something that any Mommy should be in actual need of giving up, but believe me when I say..I have a bit of a potty mouth. The worse part is that I do NOT realize when I drop the F* Bomb..until I get some gaping mouth look from a fellow Mommy, or worse..my husband. There was the year that I gave up alcohol.This was pre children. I would never willingly relinquish my Mommy juice ever again, unless with child, which I don’t really have any plans of ever doing again. But believe me, when I don’t drink,people ,who know me, automatically assume that I MUST be pregnant. But this year, I pulled on my BIG girl panties. I gave up caffeine. *GASP*
I know, I am as surprised as the rest of you. Why an insomniac prone to migraines thinks its a good idea to give up her number one vice is beyond me. Caffeine is another thing I usually only give up when with child but I feel that my addiction is getting too strong a hold on me. I’ve tried to ween myself off the Starbucks for quite some time. It is only a fabulous treat that I allow myself on occasion. You sexy toffee mocha with a couple extra shots , you really know how to speed up my pulse first thing in the morning.I have also personally been keeping Keurig k-cups in the black with my overwhelming addiction. And let’s not even get started on Diet coke. You evil bitch.I have tried to give you up on multiple occasions. But you and your maleficent sister Diet Dr.Pepper keep luring me back in to your web of self destruction. I am thoroughly convinced that there was no forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden..it was a piping hot cup of pure pleasure..it had to be a Trenta from Starbucks. If not, it was certainly a ice cold fountain diet coke with loads of ice that sent poor Eve, and the rest of us, on our path of pain.
That’s right people. I am doing what Eve couldn’t do in the garden..I’m passing up the caffeine for the next 40 days. It’s going to be hard. Let’s be honest.I’m pretty sure, it’s going to be like Charlie Sheen when he gave up the coke. Maybe even as ugly as Whitney when she gave up the crack , oh wait, bad example. Anyways, I wonder, do they make a synthetic caffeine that I can take intravenously to keep away the DTs?I just don’t think walking around in polite society looking like I have the shakes is going to be beneficial to anyone and probably a little frightening to the countless small children that I encounter on a daily basis. They have electronic cigarettes and nicorette gum for smokers trying to quit. There is methadone for methamphetamine addicts. So what’s going to get me through my withdrawals? Anyone have any words of advice for me?
Why did I give up caffeine you ask? I gave it up because if it wasn’t hard it wouldn’t be a sacrifice. It would be easy and everyone would do it. So if you see me on the street and I’m cursing, drunk and shaking like a fool…pat me on the back and say “Way to go girl!You will be kicking that nasty addiction right in it’s big hairy ass and making all right in the world again:)” I dream big folks.Now, since I didn’t have my coffee this morning,I’m off to take a nap..how else do you suppose I’m to get through my days on no sleep!Happy Mothering!
*After reading this,I’m thinking I may need to addend this to be coffee and Diet pop.I’m not sure going completely cold turkey off caffeine all together is going to prove a wise move.Hold me. I’m afraid.
** Oh yes, I had to add this because this blog also serves as my remembrance of my girls childhood. The Big Guy just went to pick Bella up at school and upon seeing her standing there, he promptly went at wiping the dirt off her forehead.He forgot it was Ash Wednesday and not until he looked up and saw the other mother and child sporting their ashes did he realize what he had just done.Damn lapsed Catholic:)
Mommy Truisms; Moving Edition ~I’ve learned some hard truisms over the span of my short tour of duty Mommying, thus far. But have recently been bitch slap reminded of a few truisms that I had tried to forget. Moving/Selling a house is never fun.I’ve had the pleasure of moving 3 times since my Ella was born in 2005. If you’ve ever done the frequent moving thing before, you can attest to the fact that I am not stretching the truth when I say it’s as trying as walking up hill in the blistering sun, only to have 1 step up be 2 steps back and you can NOT quit. Frustration is the understatement of a lifetime. So, here I will share a few moving truisms that may be helpful, in the very least amusing at my expense.
Moving Edition
If perpetual cleaning is your idea of a good time and you have small children, you should put your house on the market immediately.Like right this moment. Seriously!
While packing, you will “hide” put so many things up away from children, that you may as well kiss them goodbye because most likely they are in the home sellers Bermuda triangle. Rest assured, they will NEVER resurface ( case in point, the Vivitar digital cameras I bought the girls for Christmas 2009. Where are they?I don’t know.Oh ,yeah…BERMUDA FRICKING TRIANGLE.)
Apparently, leaving your “Nads” in your sink drawer is a bad idea. No one wants to by a house from a monkey woman.Go figure. This also applies to your medicines. Nobody wants to know your flavor of sick or crazy. Turn those labels around or throw them in your purse on the way out.
If you have “personal” items requiring batteries, a plastic tote is not the best storage spot for it unless you like inappropriate smiles from your realtor. Also, if you “hide” it under the bed, be sure to remember to “find” it before the movers do. Also, come on, you should know better you have kids:)
Shitty diapers left in the garbage do not a house sell. Don’t test this one. Just take my word for it.
If your house went on the market in the middle of blizzard weather and on the day you have a showing scheduled it is unseasonably warm, melting all the snow in your yard, it is mandatory that you spend the 3 hours previous to viewers arrival cleaning up and disposing of any and all dog shit mine fields that have been revealed.
There is nothing more fun than packing up 2/3rds of your children’s toys and stacking in the garage. Oh wait, yes there is. That would be your children knowing they are there and whining for them on the regular…daily.
When people view a house, they DON’T want to know that children or dogs have ever soiled your house. Hide all evidence of children and family pets.
Mommy Truisms ~ Moving is Hardwork
The most angelic and well-behaved children will turn into Tazmanian devils and dirt monsters when faced with a pristine house.
Trying to keep your house clean for showings while living with rambunctious preschoolers is as futile as trying to stay on a diet in a house made of chocolate cake, held together by frosting. It is equally as frustrating.
Showings will most likely ALWAYS be scheduled at your child’s bed time and if they are sick, showing frequency will certainly increase.
Finding something to do with overtired little ones, at their bed time, is a lot more difficult than it should be or you would ever imagine. Unless of course you are partial to whining, crying & over reactions…which I am not.
Convincing a 5 year old to move and leave her school and friends is so much easier once you wear them down and they have hit their limit of missing their daddy.12 months..FTW!!
When moving, sometimes you have to endure some negotiations with your children in the name of the greater good. For example, you don’t want to leave the house you were born in? I’ll buy you bunk beds…at the new house. You don’t want me to pack your toys up? I’ll buy you a trampoline when we get the new house. You want to be a Tazmanian devil and sweep through the house like a monsoon leaving death and destruction in your wake? I will build you a treehouse at the new house. Damn, I sure hope the new house has a big bag of money buried in the backyard.
Baking cookies to give the house a “comfortable/inviting” smell is great as long as you don’t get distracted by your 1 year old who you spy out the corner of your eye about to leap from the coffee table to the ottoman. Burnt cookies…not so inviting a smell. Also, cooking bacon for breakfast the day of a showing…not such a great idea either. You’ve been warned.
Moving is Near Impossible with children
These are just a few. There are many, many more. What have you learned about yourself and your children while moving or trying to sell a house?
You’ve all seen me write about it but maybe you’re wondering what is Commuter Marriage? As I stand on the front stoop watching my husband pull away for the 17th Sunday, bound for his hole he calls an apartment in Iowa, my throat closes up and I feel like I will be swallowed completely by the huge lump in my esophagus and my eyes burn and sting as they get a little watery.
I watch my girls run down the sidewalk waving and screaming , “Bye Daddy, I love you!” and my heart is breaking into a thousand pieces inside. Every week it stings my very core; every single time. Sometimes worse than others, but always. I really loathe all this single mothering that I’ve been doing lately but more than that I hate that we are all getting used to it, comfortable even.
What is commuter marriage? It’s hard on the family.
The girls are getting used to not having Daddy around, and I am getting used to handling things on my own, and sometimes when he’s here, I think he feel’s like he is out of place in his own home. That is what really bothers me. Isn’t this how people drift apart? Isn’t this how families fall apart? I love my husband, and he loves me but if you get used to not having someone around, pretty soon won’t you stop missing one another?
When your husband travels for work, it’s not consistent and it’s random and you learn to deal with it by looking forward to the next time he returns. But when your husband has a residence in a whole other state for a job because his office is there and you KNOW he will be gone for at least 4 of the days of the week, it’s a little harder to swallow.
There is no room for superfluous personal days or no chance of no travel because every week you know, come Sunday afternoon..he’s pulling away and you are left behind on that damn stoop and he’s left watching you grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.
I thought being married meant someone to share my life with. Recently, I feel more like I am a kept woman; a lonely one at that. I have someone to pay the bills. We’re getting to the point where we are forgetting to tell each other the little things that happen in our day to day and that scares me. Pretty soon we won’t know each other. I can deal with geographic distance but not emotional distance. I mean, I never thought I’d be married and alone.
What is Commuter Marriage? It’s being married but alone.
What do I do? Do I tell him to quit and come home because I need my friend, my partner, my husband? Or do I just keep going on ignoring the fact that this is really hard and slowly becoming impossible? Some days, I am okay with it. Other days, I can hardly bear it.I am lonely and I miss our relationship. The day to day, seeing each other, talking about nothing, sharing laughs and feelings, stolen glances and touches. Now, everything is forced into a weekends time and it’s not enough.
I feel like such an ungrateful asshole. I know I should be filled with gratitude that he has a job at all in this economy but it’s extremely hard when you’ve spent every day of the past 13 years with this man and suddenly you are living separate lives. I know he is just as lonely there but some days I feel overwhelmed with all the responsibility of holding it all together. Some days, it is just too much.But what do you do when you have bills to pay and kids to feed, mortgages, groceries, and school loans? You suck it up, you be a grown-up, you get out of the fetal position, stop crying and stand on that damn stoop and wave goodbye and hope its not for the last time. Commuter marriage is not for the weak.
What is commuter marriage?
It’s survival and groceries and mortgages. It’s not being homeless. It’s saying goodbye more often than you ever dreamed. Have you or would you ever be in a commuter marriage and make it work?
