An apology to the patrons of the public library.

In all the hubbub, I haven’t mentioned that Gracie was sent home from school on Tuesday morning. She had complained about her stomach feeling weird when she first woke up, but not the kind of complaining where she really means it. I brushed it off as Gracie just wanting to stay home and play with her birthday loot, or maybe because she had too much cake over the course of two days (which is, you know, not beyond the realm of possibility). So I wasn’t very shocked when school called at 9:30 and said someone needed to come pick up Gracie. She had complained about her stomach and had a (supposed) slight “fever” of 100.1. I rolled my eyes because that is not a fever for Gracie – and her face was rather sunburned from the weekend festivities (another Mom Fail for another post).

I dragged my butt down to school, picked up my darling daughter who was acting completely FINE by the way, and read her the riot act on the way home about how she would have to go back to kindergarten in the fall if she kept missing school. I made her lie down and watch movies when we got home while I called the doctor’s office. I didn’t think she was sick, but she did have her physical scheduled for Thursday. If I could move it up since we were home from school and work anyway, it would be better than me missing yet another afternoon of work. Luckily for me, there was an opening.

Before we hit the doctor’s office, I decided to stop off at the library since it was also on that side of town. I quickly picked two books (Deaf Sentence by David Lodge and Songs for the Missing by Stewart O’Nan) and let Gracie peruse the children’s room for a few selections. Want to peek inside a newly-minted 6-year-old’s mind? Look at what she picked without any help from me: Labrador Retriever (non-fiction), From Wood to Paper (non-fiction), Dr. Seuss’s I Can Read with My Eyes Shut!, Germs Make Me Sick (non-fiction), It Could Still Be a Robot (non-fiction), Not a Copper Penny in Me House (poetry), and Isabella Abnormella by J. Patrick Lewis.

Then we dashed over to the doctor’s office and talked about Miss Gracie. Her lungs were still crackly from her asthma flare-up, so the doctor decided to put her on a daily preventative. (I’m not surprised – I was diagnosed officially with my asthma in first grade and started with my inhalers a year later.) We talked about Gracie’s mystery stomach ailments and her doctor is still leaning towards psycho-somatic illness (Gracie wants to be sick for whatever reason) or phlegm. We added a daily dose of Zyrtec to her nosespray and her inhalers and we’ll see how that affects her stomach alien.

Right before we left, though – and here’s where my apology comes in – Gracie’s doctor was doing the head, nose, throat portion of the exam. And Gracie’s throat looked awfully red. “Has she been complaining about her throat?” her doctor asked? She hadn’t. I even asked her right then. Gracie shook her head like we were a little nutsy. “Better do a strep test, just in case,” the doctor decided.

Of course, it was positive for strep.

So, dear patrons of the public library, I apologize if my daughter unknowingly infected you with the very catch Strep on Tuesday afternoon. Our bad. If it makes you feel any better, I chalked a giant mark up on my Mom Fail Wall o’ Shame.

Rule the First: Love Thyself.

I’ll admit it: one of the ways I held myself together in the early post-divorce days was to eat comfort food and drink more than a glass of wine (or three) when I needed it. I didn’t let myself get too out of control – I’m a sucker for a budget – but I have to admit that I did ply myself with carbs and sweet, sweet alcohol.

Thankfully, I got my head screwed back on straight shortly thereafter and instead of burying my issues under food and drink, I started really looking at myself for the first time in years. Okay, well, really, I had been microscopically examining myself in and out of therapy for the year prior while I tried to figure out what to do with my marriage, but this was different. I didn’t have anyone to blame things on, hide behind, or complicate my image of self. The flip side is that I didn’t have anyone to lean on, either, and so I had to figure out how the heck to stand on my own again. Each small accomplishment brought a small measure of pride. Soon I was digging through my own b.s. at a furious pace, upending issue after issue and trying to find other things I could “fix” and new things I could love about myself.

During that crazy, topsy-turvy, adventurous, wild time of rediscovery, I found out I needed a few things to really feel like ME: reading was one of them. That was easy; I had always known reading=Katie, although I had forgotten it for a short while. My other find was extremely surprising – I loved getting working out. I had worked myself down from a size 14 to a size 10 after I had Bee. During that first year post-divorce, I worked myself down to a size 8. I jogged, I biked, I swam when I could, I walked – but mostly I used workout videos. I was a devoted Denise Austin follower until cable dropped her show. (I still have the last show on my DVR.) Then The Biggest Loser entered my life and I became a devoted Jillian fanatic. Finding Jillian has been amazing. She yells in my ear if I pick up a brownie. She goads me into going for runs. She harps and nags if I talk myself into skipping a workout. I’ve been Shred-ing for three weeks straight now and I’ve worked up from Level 1 Beginner to Level 1 Advanced (on all but the push-ups and jump-roping). And I. Feel. Fantastic!

I’m not saying if you don’t work out that you can’t or don’t love yourself. For some people it’s taking a few minutes to themselves or teaching themselves something new or splurging on something they deserve but never get (and I don’t mean justifying a purchase here, guys). Loving yourself – whatever it is – will resonate with you when you find it. For me, getting healthier – inside and out – has been a key to opening up a whole new level of happy.

And I love that some of my friends are finding their own happy, too. It seems like everywhere I turn these days, someone else is announcing that she’s found her own runner’s high. They’ve inspired me to really reflect on how grateful (and still – surprised!) I am that all this exercise crap has found a way into my life. I joke, but really – I am grateful. And inspired. Look at who I have keeping me honest, as if the voice of Jillian in my ears wasn’t enough: So if you’re one of them – if you’re on a Get Fit journey, let me know so I can add you to my brag sheet!

• My sister Kim started Jillian’s 30-Day Shred last week.
• Despite a minor setback this week, Margie over at soeurs du jour has been rocking the C25K.
• FireMom over at Stop, Drop, and Blog just began her C25K journey (I am so excited for her!).
• Crisanna just set a personal record at the 10k Zoo Run two weeks ago. (It was really her first 10k, but that still counts, right?!)
• Mrs. E over at Easy Street finished her C25K journey in time to race on St. Paddy’s Day (and her daughter kicked butt in the half-marathon. I’m pretty jealous.).
• My friend Jo has lost over 30 lbs in the past year – several times when I go to eat something I shouldn’t, I think about whether Jo would do it and I let go of the dessert. It’s tough when you work across the room from someone and you just know she’s going to turn the corner when you’re shoving it into your mouth. Sigh.

Have you been kicking butt lately? Invested in yourself? GOOD FOR YOU! Let me know so I can tell you how awesome you are and my pretty, pretty readers can heap you with praise. Because you totally deserve it. Then again – I bet you already knew that. Happy Love Thursday, everyone! Indulge in a little something for yourself today.

Hello. My name is Katie and I’m a chocoholic.

I’m blaming my insanity on Valentine’s candy. Clearanced Valentine’s candy. But really the problem started longer ago than February – probably closer to 30 years ago, in fact. But if the Valentine’s candy hadn’t have been on clearance, I wouldn’t have picked up a bag of raspberry hugs for 70 cents. And then I wouldn’t have kept the bag in my desk drawer at ThePlaceThatShallNotBeDiscussed. And I wouldn’t have eaten the entire bag in five days. Yes, five days.

And then, I wouldn’t have kept right on eating chocolate candy through the Easter season because when you’ve gotten used to eating five Hershey kisses here and there, it’s not very easy to stop. At least, it isn’t for me. So I ate all of the leftover Easter candy that hadn’t fit at the bottom of the girls’ baskets. That was one bag of Hershey’s kisses, a bag of Cadbury Mini-Eggs and six Cadbury Creme Eggs.

In the middle of all this binge eating, someone I don’t really know, but know of, relapsed. He had been sober for years – in fact, he was sponsoring many other alcoholics in various stages of recovery. But he relapsed. Because it’s the second time he’s sought treatment, it might cost him his job. I was thinking about this man on the way to work and even though I’m (rather unfortunately) quite familiar with alcoholism and view it as the disease it is rather than as a weakness, I still wondered how he could fall when it would mean losing everything, when he had been so “straight” before his fall. He had worked so hard to earn everything back and get to where he was. How horrible and destructive a disease must be to pull you back like that.

Knowing it wasn’t really the same, I started thinking about my quasi-addiction to chocolate. Look: I know it’s not the same, not by yards, not even close; but it’s the closest thing I can use to relate. So I thought about my “need” for chocolate and I thought to myself, I could give up chocolate. Maybe I should give it up cold turkey. That’s a good idea, I will. Right after I finish the Easter candy so that I’m not wasting money and perfectly good candy. I wasn’t even shooting for irony when the thought ran through my head, but there it was. It’s so cliché, that “right after I finish this blah-blah-blah.” Turns out, it’s an honest thought.

It really hit me, the echoes between one more binge drink and one more bag of candy. Of course one alcoholism is life threatening and my quasi-addiction isn’t. Still. It’s not a healthy temptation, one I am not doing such a great job controlling just now, which is why I came up with my crazy idea.

I gave up chocolate.

Yes, me. Chocolate. Willingly. I know – I’m crazy! I have lost my ever-lovin’ mind. Impulsive, mindless or not, let’s see if I can make it through the end of the year without giving in. Now the rules are that I’ve just given up chocolate candy – chocolate cake or chocolate flavoring doesn’t count. Cupcakes and snack cakes are still in. Hot chocolate is in. So are cookies. That’s an entirely different temptation and this challenge is big enough. I’ve done it before during Lent, but that was always with the idea that the end was near. When you know you can have something again in a short amount of time, it’s easier to withhold – at least, for me it is. When you know you can’t ever give in…that’s much, much harder. And maybe sometimes, a wee bit easier if you know it would ruin everything instead of just your calorie count for one day.

So let’s see if I can really do it. Do you think I can? Because I honestly don’t know. It’s been over two weeks now, I know that. And there have been temptations already. I’ve held out. I’ve stayed strong. But still – I might need a sponsor. Or six.

Now THAT is what I call a Rockstar party!

I won’t leave you in the dark any longer (and also, I like admitting it over and over): the party was a smashing success!! It was completely worth losing my mind over – even though when all was said and done, all of that work went into two hours of jam-packed fun. Still – I would definitely go through all of that work again (and probably will in June for Miss Bee if I know my girls at all).

Want to be jealous? Everything just seemed to roll the right way. The weather was a balmy 80°, but there was a bit of a breeze that took most of the sting out of the sun. The IO didn’t get called out on a trip and was able to help me out with setting up and cleaning afterwards. Not having to worry about putting up the canopy or putting together the deck box = a lot I don’t have to worry about! The cake was ridiculously easy. I wasn’t sure how many people would show up, so I decided to do a half-sheet cake. Gracie helped me bake it Saturday night and I let it cool overnight. Sunday morning, I slapped on gobs of chocolate frosting for my background color (crumb-free – I’m a rockstar). Then I decorated it with a giant pink frosting star that I covered with hot pink edible glitter and smaller black glitter-gel stars. I think it took me 30 minutes. Everyone loved it – especially Gracie. So hooray for good party mojo!

Of course, there were a few things that I wished would have gone better. The wind could have not blown the stage, the curtains backdrop, the balloons, and the cups all over the place. I maybe should have put sunblock on the girls cheeks, at least. And you know how I was whining about no one RSVPing? Turns out that meant they weren’t coming. There were still plenty of friends for Gracie and Bee to play with – in fact, the size of the group was just about perfect. Her two best friends from daycare were there, her constant companion E. of course, and one friend from school with whom I will definitely be scheduling more playdates. Ooh, and my friend Amanda’s sweet baby girl. That was it. J. and N. from down the street had four birthday parties to juggle, so they only stayed for ten minutes. None of the other nine girls from her elementary school showed up. So we were slightly over prepared. But better than having too many kiddos and not enough cake, I guess!

The best weirdest craziest part? Someone called the cops on us. You know you throw an awesome kids party if the cops show up. Technically, the cops didn’t really show up at the door (or come around back); I heard about it later when I brought my neighbor some cake. Aaron told me that a cop car had pulled up in the cul-de-sac about an hour and a half after we got going and sat there measuring decibel levels. He stayed for awhile, but I guess we were okay because I never saw him.  It does beg the question, though – who calls the cops on a kids’ birthday part in the middle of the afternoon?! We were rocking out – my neighbor Michael (E’s dad) had set up his old deejay equipment and had kid-friendly rock tunes (and a few circle dances) pumped up. It was a bit loud for some of us (and poor little M.!), but the girls were having fun. Michael got the parents up and moving and we did some line dances and, I have to say, if you haven’t seen my little Bee try to keep up with the Chicken Dance, you just haven’t lived. Michael even had all of the girls come up to his microphone to wish Gracie a Happy Birthday one by one (and told Gracie to say thank you to everyone – I love that she has become a second daughter to them). Have I said enough that I have the best neighbors ever? So, so lucky!

One of the moms mentioned as she was leaving that it was the best party she’d been to in a long time. That made me feel all sparkly and rainbows. I think Gracie would agree with her about it being the coolest party ever – and I definitely would!

To the moon…and back.

Dear Gracie,

I can’t believe another year has gone by. It seems like just last month I was writing to you on your fifth birthday and now here you are, ready to turn six. Yes, six! I don’t know if I’m old enough to have a six-year-old, if I’m ready to have a six-year-old. Six is the beginning of the Big Kid years, the years just before pre-tweendom. You, on the other hand, you are more than ready. I hear tween-talk come flying out of your mouth far more often than I’m ready for. It’s made the year a little bumpy at times. You don’t understand why you are allowed to roll your eyes at me, huff at me, storm off with an “Arrgh!” or an “Oh my GOSH, Mom!” just like a teenager would. Part of it is because I’m trying to raise you into the amazingly awesome adult I know you will be. But part of it is because I’m selfish: I know those years are coming, rushing towards us too quickly, and I just want you to be funny and happy and an innocent little kid just a little while longer.

And a lot of times, you still are that kid. You still ask for piggyback rides to bed (although, sadly, not as often as you used to). You need a hug after a bad dream, and you love to cuddle when you’re sick. You’re still very, very generous with your love and affection, you love to make silly faces at me out the window at daycare every morning, and sometimes you even still want to play with boring, ol’ Mom.

But I see independence starting to bloom in you, Gracie-boo. You have struck some amazing friendships with our neighbors E. and J. and you’d rather run back and forth at their houses than hang out with me. You are doing a fantastic job reading on your own, devouring easy-to-read books and only occasionally asking me what a word is in a small chapter book. You write letters and stories on your own if I’ll spell out the difficult words for you. You even create elaborate stories for you and your sister to reenact, like when you demolish your play house outside to play “Tornado.” You are this amazing twist of big-kid learning to leave behind little-kid-hood and it’s okay to wobble sometimes. I promise to always catch you and help you find your footing again.

It’s been a year of changes: conquering kindergarten, learning not to talk in class, learning that different places (daycare, school, mom’s house, dad’s house) all have different rules, losing baby teeth left and right, learning that you’ll have a step-family, trying to decide whether to believe in magic… I don’t know about you, but that last one has been toughest for me. “People can’t fly, mom,” you told me one day when I mentioned seeing a person flying or some such nonsense. “What about Mary Poppins?” I countered. “She’s not real. She’s just a movie. Just pretend,” you finished with such derision. “What about the Tooth Fairy? Or Santa Claus?” I asked, holding my breath. That stumped you. THANK GOD. And just this week you told me calmly over breakfast that Mickey Mouse wasn’t real. “Why?” I asked, against my better judgment. “Because they don’t have ears,” you said, matter-of-factly. “Well, what the heck do you think those giant circles are on top of Mickey’s head?!” I asked, but secretly I was so happy that your argument wasn’t that they were cartoons or that they walked and talked like people. I’m not ready for that sort of logic coming out of you.  Because while I’m okay with this growing older thing (mostly), I’m not ready for you to let go of the best parts of childhood just yet. You are scary-good at thinking around corners and riddling things out, though, so I know I don’t have too long to enjoy it. Thankfully, you are such a giving spirit. You share desserts with your sister and spoil her rotten, so I know you will indulge her as long as she believes. You give me kisses and hugs and tell me I’m the greatest mom evah and apologize for having to spend time at your dad’s house and swear that you’ll miss me – completely unprompted! – so I know you’ll indulge me. I just hope that you lighten up on yourself and cut yourself some slack sometimes, too. Give yourself permission to be a kid sometimes. Act goofy. Swing on the monkey bars. Play in the dirt. Let go of the drama and the stress, girly-girl. I promise when it’s time to grow-up, all that other stuff will still be waiting for you. And so will I. Always.

For now, let’s make The Year of Six be a year of fun adventuring and giggly smiles, Gracie-boo. You’ve got the world on a string, but you don’t need to worry about that for now. Run. Laugh. And love everything around you as much as I love you.

Love,
Mom

Things I did today because I love my daughter very much.

Saturday is a good day for lists. Well, really, any time is a good time for lists, but especially when you’ve had a crazy day such as mine: it’s a good time for lists. How crazy was my last day pre-Rockstar party? Let’s look:

• Woke up with Bee 6 times last night and another 6 times with the severe storms that blew through. In fact, I didn’t sleep in increments longer than 30 minutes until after 2 a.m.
• Was dragged out of bed at 6:45 a.m. by the girls. Glared at Bee an hour later when she started crying because she was “ti-wed, Mommy!” Whatever you were imagining right there, add more whine and tears.
• Went to Dunkin’ Donuts with the girls (a 15-minute drive, but what the heck) because it’s Gracie’s birthday weekend and it’s buy 6 donuts, get 6 free time. Woo-hoo! We even ate there – the height of luxury in the girls’ eyes.
• That’s because right afterwards we drove all the way back across town to go to Walgreens to drop of Gracie’s prescriptions, then to the bookstore to kill time, and then back to Walgreens. Then we went to Target and the grocery store. (Yes, I remembered the ice.)
• Came home, put away the groceries, made lunch for the girls, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher.
• Throughout the day, I did five (five!) loads of laundry. (One load for the girls, whites, darks, towels, and my bathroom throw rug. In case you wanted to know.) Washed, dried, and put away.
• Edged the back yard and took a shower. Went back outside and picked up all the track and shingles and broken toys that I’ve been ignoring all winter.
• Tested out the curtain for the stage area. Negotiated with the birthday girl on how to make it better.
• Picked up all the toys in the house, directing the girls in assisting me, and finally gave up on Bee-girl and made her lie down in bed to “rest.” When that didn’t work, I was so desperate to try to get her to fall asleep, I dug out the Fisher Price kid-tough dvd player and let her lie in bed with Cinderella. What a difference 30 minutes makes.
• Vaccuumed the entire house and mopped the kitchen floors.
• Assembled the girls and counted to 10 over and over in my head as they “helped” me put the swag bags together. Sunglasses (8 for $2 at Walmart), a ring (8 for $1), a wand with sparkles inside and tinsel spraying out the top (25 cents), smarties, blow pops, and lip gloss (8 for $4) – I almost wish I was going to the party.
• Baked a sheet cake – which meant I had to mix three cake mixes separately because the hand mixer couldn’t mix three mixes together. I miss my Kitchen-Aid Mixer. In case you’re ever wondering, it doesn’t take 30 minutes to bake – it takes closer to 45 minutes to bake a half-sheet cake.
• Ordered Chinese food because OHMYGOD did you see everything I did today?! And that’s all besides the usual parenting! And I had to try a new Chinese food place because my beloved old place closed on me and so I ordered the usual from the new place by lemon chicken isn’t chicken fingers and white rice with a side of lemon sauce – it’s two ginormous chicken steaks, breaded, and no rice! So I had to make a cup of rice. Thankfully, I ordered fried chicken wing appetizers to see if they were any good (they were!) and bacon rolls. What are bacon rolls? They are wide, crispy strips of bacon wrapped around an itttttttty-bitty piece of pork, with a toothpic rammed through the middle to hold the heavenly goodness together. 10 for $4 – I might just order a couple of them the next time I need to hate on my arteries.
• And then, to top off my day, I had to give the girls a bath.

I am tired, yo. Exhausted. And I still need to burn the CDs, decorate the cake, make cupcakes for Monday, wrap the gifts my family sent, put up the canopy and set out the coolers, collect the toys, put up the stage for real, put out the chairs and extra table, put together the deck box to put the outside toys in, move the plastic kiddie pool to the side of the house, and…and…and….

Maybe I should just get some sleep and worry about it in the morning. Gracie – it’s a good thing I love you.

Two books and a movie.

[Author's Note: Um, for some reason this didn't post yesterday. Oops!]

Instead of thinking about the goodie bags that I need to assemble, and the gobs of stuff I still need to buy (don’t let me forget about the ice!), and the cake and cupcakes I still need to bake and decorate, and the house I need to clean before Sunday, and the mix CD I still need to burn, I thought I would focus instead on fun happy things like BOOKS! and MOVIES! Because occasionally, when my children aren’t being horribly mean by having birthdays, I do have a life. (Okay, not really, but it’s fun to pretend.)

Book Review the First: The Witch of Portobello (without spoilers)
My sister sent me Paulo Coehlo’s The Witch of Portobello with instructions to read it immediately. So, of course, I did – happily humming “Portobello Road” from Bedknobs and Broomsticks as I did. (What?) I shouldn’t have set myself up like that, thinking all happy things and imagining the book would be a certain way; I had envisioned fairies and magic and enchantment (either in-story or as a reading experience. I’m not picky about my magic). I thought I was about to enter a storybook. Okay, well, Witch is fiction and it does tell a story, but not the kind I imagined. I thought it would be a story-story, one with a timeline and a plot, one that you fall into and embrace as it enfolds you. Witch wasn’t like that at all. Witch was more of the other kind of story; one that is more springboard than story, one that makes you think and keeps throwing you out of the story instead of pulling you in as you ponder deep questions and try to figure out how life works exactly.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate a deeply philosophical book – especially not if it’s crafted as well as Coelho carefully constructed his. But I was expecting fairytales and storybooks and I had a hard time shaking my assumptions, so I never really felt myself click along like I normally would. I do have to mention, however, that for what it was, Coelho managed to find the perfect narrative style. The way his narrator set out the story in recorded descriptions of their encounters with Athena was brilliant and worked really well for his construct. I just wish I had known from the beginning that Coelho was going to be all parable-y so I could sit and learn at his knee instead of constantly wondering when the story was going to kick in.

Book Review the Second: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime (with spoilers)
Do me a favor: open a new browser, click on Barnes&Noble.com, and order this book right now. Go ahead – I’ll wait. If you watch Big Bang Theory and, like me, adore Sheldon – click faster. Yes, this book is that good. Then again, I love stream-of-consciousness and babbling narrators and quirkiness and the ridiculousness of Dwight from The Office and (as I’ve said) the hilarity of Sheldon from Big Bang Theory. However, I don’t like Holden Caulfield from Catcher in the Rye and while I can now appreciate the whole The Sound and the Fury thing now, I can’t say I thought it was quite the same trip when I read it in high school. Christopher, the protagonist in Curious Incident, is compared to Holden Caulfield and the narration style is compared to (a much-toned down version of) Sound and the Fury, but I think that’s rather unfair. Christopher is MUCH more likable than either.

Not only does Curious Incident win big with its likeability factor, but it scores points on the relativity scale, too. Christopher’s journey is a coming of age story. The book starts off with an introduction to an autistic teen and his (ahem) different life rules he’s created for himself, escalates into an amusing relation of his hilarious quest to find out who killed the neighbor’s dog – despite his inability to interact with anyone besides his teacher or his father – and before you’ve even realized it, Curious has become a delightful coming-of-age story that inspires the hell out of you. Christopher entertained me, made me laugh, made me re-evaluate my coping skills, made me thank god I wasn’t in his situation, made me question my decency as a human being, and in the end made me want to be as strong as him, too. Every author should strive to create a novel as thoroughly enjoyable and as worthy of a reader’s attention.

And a movie: Say Anything (with spoilers)
I can’t tell you how nervous I was to watch this movie. I had heard so many amazing reviews of this 80s staple – but then again, I had heard so many amazing review of Breakfast Club, 16 Candles, and Pretty in Pink and they were crap. So. I was nervous. But my best girlhood friend, Julie, told me that I must, must, MUST watch it, and so I moved it to the top of my queue.  You guys – this movie is AWESOME. Finally, a movie that lives up to its hype. I was worried when I remembered that John Cusack is in it. (There is a John Cusack curse, people – most of his movies are not that good – and yet, I still have a bit of a thing for him. It’s his voice. If my List of Five was chosen on voice alone, John Cusack would be at the top of the list. But I digress.) John kinda worried me, but after his first scene, my shoulders relaxed and I started breathing again. This was vintage Cusack – it was Anastasia, and ConAir, and Runaway Jury, and Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.

And the movie was pretty good, too. Sure, it was a bit dippy at times and I didn’t like the girl who played Diane, but it was a decent high school graduation movie. I liked how the dad was actually guilty of stealing from old people and that Diane struggled about whether to talk to him and keep him in her life. I didn’t like that she caved just in time or that everything seemed to work out okay. I did like the realistic botching of the speech (their peers liked that?) and that they somewhat realistically showed the gap between the smart kids, the cool kids, and how none of them understand that they’ve created the gap – and the ensuing social awkwardness – themselves. The party scenes were perhaps my favorite from the whole movie. (Aside from the iconic boombox-over-his-head scene, of course. I am still a girl who likes to wooed.)

So, yes, I’ll have to say the movie was pretty awesome for what it was. Vintage Cusack trumps Molly Ringwald any day of the week.

Lovin’ the little things.

This week has been a flash between grumbly, hateful stress and moments of divine sunshine where I feel like I can do no wrong. I like to focus on the happy when I can, so let’s look at the things I’m lovin’ right now:

• Laughing until I tears poured out of my eyes at Gracie’s “hoedown” dancing skills that she spontaneously demonstrated when  Kotton-Eyed Joe came on.
• Getting caught up in Stephen King’s newest, Under the Dome. It’s so vintage that I already know I’ll be reading it again very soon.
• Feeling so strong and powerful at the end of my 30-Day Shred workout and how I can already feel a difference in my endurance.
• Crisanna’s Rockstar status for finishing a 10k this past weekend. (YOU ROCK, girl!)
• Deciding to turn a crappy day into a laid-back evening with the girls…and even being able to follow through with my mad Cool Mom skillz.
• That the girls have slept through the night all week.
• Being one of only a handful of computers not affected by a nasty virus at work – especially on a frantic day that I NEEDED to get stuff done.
• That my boss took us out for lunch for Professional Peoples Day yesterday (and was the only one in the building to remember).
• Finding another potential friend in the mom of one of Gracie’s friends.

They’re just little things, but sometimes they are everything. Happy Love Thursday, everyone!

That’s a lot of coffee.

I’ve tried very hard not to blog about anything related to my ex-husband. I know Ex relations is one of those topics in Blog Land. It’s controversial; there’s no easy answer about whether it’s an acceptable topic and if you do blog about your Ex, how much do you say, what if the Ex finds out, blogs as public vs. private space, etc., etc. I feel like I have enough drama in my life without inviting more – that’s one reason I’ve stayed away. Secondly, my desire to be classy about the situation is greater than my need to sort out my issues out loud in my blog. I do use my blog to figure things out and sometimes it kills me to not post or ask about an Ex-related situation because sometimes they are so mind-boggling. But then again, I realize that in most of those situations, what I want to blog is my first-blush gut-reactions to the situation in question. Sometimes the first words out of your mouth is not want you want set in stone (or print). Lastly, I know the Ex, his fiancé and other friends of the Ex do read my blog. I still maintain that what I say here is semi-private and my own business. In other words, someone has to actively seek out my blog if they want to know what I’ve written. I think it’s akin to me asking the Ex what he’s said about me to his friends and family. If I asked in the first place, I can’t get mad at him if I don’t like what he has to say. Still, I have to admit that it is easier to keep the peace if I just keep my thoughts to myself.

When I do need to reference something Ex-related on the blog, I try to be vague. I’ve mentioned a time or two that some unbloggable stuff was going on, or that tensions were a bit intense with the Ex. Part of what I was referring to was the stress of communications itself with the Ex (above and beyond what I was trying to talk about with the Ex about in the first place). Communications with him degraded to the point that I didn’t receive a response to any of my emails and when I spoke with him on the phone about the issues, he was angry enough with me that I was anxious about talking to him or even checking my email (just in case he had responded). I was anxious about anything Ex-related all the time. And then he stopped responding to issues dealing with the children and I couldn’t take it anymore. Not if it involved the girls.

I needed to fix things. Living with that much anxiety isn’t good and the girls…well, it’s my job to fix any issues or bumps they run into. So I tried to think about ways to improve relations with the Ex and one idea seemed like it would not only help the immediate issue but could possibly be a long-term fix as well: I could talk to his fiancé.

I sent Fiancé a quick email Thursday night to see what she thought about the idea of meeting over coffee to discuss Ex-relations and our communication issues. I was nervous: Fiancé had offered a few times to help blend the families any way she could and had bent over backwards to be nice to me, but I didn’t want her to think I was trying to sway her to my “side” or anything like that. I just wanted to try to find a solution to the problems my ex-husband and I are apparently still having. Fortunately, she agreed to meet with me and folks – we talked for almost THREE HOURS.

We talked about our children, blended families, in-laws, ex-families, the politics of families (those still together and those that have splintered), parenting, mothering, school, custody issues, gender issues, blogging, religion – you name it, it probably came up during our very lovely chat. I’ll admit – when she first came into our lives, I wasn’t her biggest fan. I think a lot of that was because of my own fear and also because of how she was being portrayed. But since I’ve started speaking with her and having seen how she has continuously gone out of her way to put me as much at ease as she could…I’ve come to quite like her. I told Fiancé that what I wanted out of our chat was 1) to begin a dialogue between the two of us, 2) to see if she could help think of how the Ex and I could improve our relations, and 3) to ultimately get to the point where we could hand off the children between houses and be able to ask if there was anything we should know, how things were going generally, if there were any punishments that needed to be honored or appointments that needed to be attended.

We made a lot of progress just in our introductory meeting of the minds and I hope a lot more can come from our new alliance. I stressed that above all else, I didn’t expect her to be anything other than 100% loyal to my Ex, I just wanted to try to find something else that would work, because what’s going on now isn’t working for me or the children. And for the first time in ages, I think I’m actually hopeful. It was a gamble, but one I’m very glad I took.

We need some party tunes!

I need some help. I started putting together a mix CD for Miss Gracie to play at her Rockstar Party this weekend and I realized something – some parents might not be okay with some of the songs I let Gracie listen to. I don’t let her listen to anything that bad, but the girl likes her some rockin’ tunes. For instance, Pump It by Black Eye Peas. But that song has the lyrics, “shake that ass, shake it shake it shake it girl.” It’s just one objectionable line that Gracie hasn’t picked up on or repeated outside of the song, so I let it slide. Other parents? Maybe not so much. So if you could all please drop what you’re doing and help me think of some more songs, that would be ever so nice of you. Here’s what we have so far:

Party Songs Gracie and I Both Agree On:
Splish Splash – Bobby Darin
Rockin’ Robin – Bobby Day
Beat It – Michael Jackson
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun – Cyndi Lauper
I’m a Believer – Smashmouth
All Star – Smashmouth
Party in the USA – Miley Cyrus (I told you I love Gracie)
Sugar, Sugar – The Archies
Malti – Dan Zanes
I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) – The Proclaimers
I’m Yours – Jason Mraz
Walk Like an Egyptian – Bangles
Uptown Girl – Billy Joel
We Will Rock You – Queen
Take It Easy – Eagles
I Gotta Feelin’ – Black Eyed Peas

Party Songs Gracie Wants Because She Thinks She’s Turning 16:
Baby – Justin Bieber
Replay – Iyaz
Soul Sister – Train
Fire Burning – Sean Kingston
Cecilia – Simon & Garfunkel

Songs I’m Slipping In So I Don’t Lose My Mind (But Gracie Likes, Too):
Free Fallin’ – Tom Petty
Here We Go Again – OK Go
All Together Now – Beatles
Hey Baby – Bruce Channel
Can’t Buy Me Love – Beatles
Looking Out My Backdoor – CCR
Brown Eyed Girl – Van Morrison
Who Put the Bomp – The Viscounts
Hand Jive (Can’t you see my friends and I teaching all the little girls to hand jive?!)
Purple People Eater – Sheb Wooley

At the end of the CD I included the Birthday song by the Beatles (“THEY SAY IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY!”) because how cool will Gracie think that is? Also “Here Comes the Sun” by the Beatles because I always sang that to Gracie when she was a baby and let’s face it – I’m going to cry at some point. Might as well help it along. Goodness – she is going to be 16 before you know it! So, um, ignore my sniffles and help me out with some more fun, rockstar-esque songs for the girls to rock out to, mkay?