I Love Valentine's Day

Tomorrow is my favorite holiday, Valentine's Day. The day we celebrate my favorite things; hearts, flowers, candy, jewelry, love, romance, the colors reds & pink. I love the schmaltz of it all. I'm like an M&M, to those who don't know me well, I appear to have a hard colorful candy shell, but those who truly know me, understand that on the inside I am gooey melty chocolate.

I love love! I love little heart shaped chatzkies and flowery mushy cards. I guess that I am making up for all of the Valentine-less years, back when we called it, V-Day (Vomit Day). Back in those days I'd sit at my cubicle stuffing my face with heart candies while watching bouquet after bouquet be delivered to the other girls in the office. Before that I was eating heart shaped candy while watching TV in the dorm lounge. Every ten minutes the lady at the front desk would announce another flower delivery. That day some girl's dorm rooms looked like flower shops,every surface was covered with colorful blooms. Every surface in my dorm room was covered with colorful candy wrappers.

The worst was back in grade school in the 70's, before kids had to be politically correct. Yes political correct, even in Kindergarten. For example my son got a memo from the school stating that if he wanted to bring in Valentines he had to make them for all of the kids in the class, there was even a class list to insure than no one was left out. Back in the 70's the kids only made Valentines for the popular kids and for there circle of friends. I was the fat kid who dressed funny and sucked her thumb so you can guess who played Charlie Brown in my class. That's right the kids with the big open heart, optimistic smile, and empty Valentine bag.

Yup, Valentine's day used to suck, for only a few decades. I guess I am making up for lost time. Like Puxatony Phil my inner girly-girl comes out around Valentine's Day. I get excited to see red foil hearts in the stores, and jewelry ads in magazines. I always go over board and buy Valentine's for my family, friends, teachers, mail man, and of course our dog. I go wild buying heart shaped candies, chocolates, cookies, and treats. Then we go crazy making holiday crafts, necklaces, cards, decorations. I even have a big light up heart on my house. I love it!

Then the day after on the 15th, I wake up sick to my stomach and feeling dumb for ovre doing yet another holiday. I pack up all of the uneaten crap and make Dave take it to work. Then I go shopping the next day or the next week and see all of the Valentine's Day stuff on sale for 50% or & 75% off and I freak out and buy more decorations and candy! Because how can you resist when they are basically giving it away? Then the day after when I am sick from eating too much candy and crap again I send it all into work with Dave again. This is my mode of operation, I over do Holidays. This is what I did at Christmas, Halloween, and Easter.

I think I have a problem. I'll think about it more when I have time. I have to wrap presents, make candy bags, write out cards, and hide the dog's presents.

BJs Revisited

I have a confession to make. I am fascinated by BJs, Costo, and other gigantic super-size item stores. To me these stores are an interactive people zoo, in which I get walk amongst the humans and observe the humans in their natural habitat. Why these stores and not Walmart or the grocery store? Because these crazy stores sell ridiculous hugely over-sized strange things and I need to know what kind of person buys them. Then I like to hypothesise why?

Watching a mom at the grocery store pick up a box of Kix cereal is boring. She is a mom, her kids like Kix, kids eat cereal...yawn...borning. Watching a 30-something-year old guy in a suit buying two five-pound packs of salmon, and a birthday card makes me scratch my head. Then I start thinking up possible scenarios that accompany the purchases.

"Happy birthday honey. I know that you wanted jewelry, but I bought something even better. Look salmon. Surprise!"

On Tuesday Alice and I had to buy a few things at Bjs: Animal crackers, deli meat, pita bread, pomegranate flavored seltzer water, Disney Princess Pajamas, and a bucket of cookie dough (That is already gone, big mistake).

When we go to BJ's I let Alice have a hot-dog for lunch at the snack bar. These are the observations I made while Alice ate her lunch.

A mom who looked in her 40's buying one five pound box of blueberries. That's all, just blueberries? Why would someone drive all the way here just to buy one thing? Why does someone run out for a massive amount of blueberries? What constitutes a blueberry emergency? Did Oprah announce that blueberries are the new miracle food? Are pomegranates finally passe?

I saw two cute little old ladies buying two dozen assorted danish and a huge box of Valentine's day candy. We all know what they are doing for the rest of the day. Get into those comfy pajamas & fuzzy slippers, flip on the soaps, make a fresh pot of coffee, and dig in. My kind of gals.

An older gentleman was buying 3 cases of bottled water, 2 huge packs of paper towels, and what looked like a box of 10 pounds of American cheese slices. Which makes sense, cheap American cheese is full of sodium and eating all of that cheese will not only make him constipated, but horribly thirsty.

Which brings me to the subject of bottled water. I watched at least 40 people walk out of BJs, and about 90 percent of them had bottled water, cases, and cases, of bottled water. I just don't know why? Do these people not understand that in Franklin, we live out in the country, with an abundant supply of fresh clean water? Do they not understand how to work a sink faucet? Or have we become a society that turns their noses up at the idea of drinking tap water? Are people all over the country drinking bottled water? Are my kids going to grow up as outcasts because they were forced to drink tap water? Is the Department of Child Social Services going to knock on my door and accuse me of being neglectful? I guess I'll have to go buy a six pack of bottled water and then refill them from the tap...so the kids blend in.

Okay so now you know how I feel about bottled water, what is the deal with paper towels! Out of my 40 or so people, almost all of them bought these huge packs of paper towels. These packages were larger than my child, I think they were 12 or 18 rolls. How many paper towels do people use? I use about one or two rolls a week. Am I a freak? Does the average household use six or ten rolls a week? Are you people just accident prone? Does anyone use rags, dish towels, or towels designated for spills and cleaning anymore?

I used to be environmentally competent and socially aware when I was younger. Now that I am almost 40 I am just plain cheap!

Ding-A-Ling-A-Sing-Thing!

Today is Wednesday, that means at 10:00am you will find Alice, me, and 50 crazed savages at the Bellingham Library. Because Wednesday is Ding-A-Ling-A-Sing-Thing Day! What is a Ding-A-Ling-A-Sing-Thing? The easy definition is, a library story hour, after that has consumed 12 cups of coffee, and 29 candy bars.

Let me explain. Alice and I walk into the big library activity room. We join about 25-30 moms and vast amounts of children from the ages of under a year, to about 4-years-old. We all sit in a huge circle and wait for miss Nina, she is their muse. After 1 or 2 almost unbearable minutes of waiting she walks into the room wheeling her cart of fun. The kids follow, she's their Pied Piper. She quickly sets up and then we begin, by singing our welcome song.

We all sing around in a huge circle with our kids on our laps. As we sing they slowly start to escape our grips. They start to dance in the middle. Then Miss Nina reads a story, and a quarter of the children listen, the other three quarters is running around the room drinking up the excitement and gaining strength.

By the time miss Nina is done the story and handing out the instruments the kids are half way to insane. They rush at her magical box of noise makers like lions on fresh meat. With booty in hands they run around the room, banging drums, shaking maracas, slamming mini cymbals, ringing bells. I think that there is music playing, but the vast noise is so loud I cannot even hear my own thoughts.

Now the savages have taken over, they have turned into angry tribesmen carrying out sacrificial rituals on teddy bears. Screaming out their sacred prayers into the chanting in foreign tongues. Some are trying to escape from the bondage of their modern clothes, some are dancing on tables and jumping off of chairs.

Now I think Miss Nina is singing, at least I think she is singing, her mouth is moving. Maybe she is praying for her personal safety. The natives have stopped listening to her. They are now causing a riot. They are mad with pleasure. They are shaking their limbs at their mothers and refusing to calm down. This is there time to be free, to escape the confines of parental oppression. They are turning over carriages, throwing baby bottles & binkies. They are striking out in anger, and howling out their rebellious battle cries!

Then Miss Nina gets her secret weapons. Two huge fluffy puppets of mass destruction. They are huge dog marionettes. She plays calming hypnotic music as she walks them around the circle. She calms the savages with her sweetness, the doggies fascinate the rioters and they loose focus on their angst and focus solely on the colorful doggies. As the kids are transfixed and venerable the moms snatch them up unto firm arms and hold them steady.

With kids firmly placed on our laps we sing the goodbye song. Then we pack up our baby bags, collect binkies, bottles, and upright the carriages and quietly leave the jungle til next week.

Once, Twice, Three....Shoot Me In The Head!

My son has discovered the game Rock, Paper, Scissors. Now every decision that I make has to be validated.

"I know that you said I have to eat my carrots, but let's shoot for it?" If I agree, and play one quick game, then it becomes, two out of three, five out of nine, then an hour goes by and dinner get's cold.

Have you ever played rock paper scissors with a six-year-old? He waits to throw for about a half a second, until he can see what you are throwing. If you catch him he claims that he was throwing Rock. He also likes to quickly turn paper into a Vulcan like, pair of scissors. He is such a little conman, so smooth, too bad he isn't old enough to go to Vegas and use his skills to win me and Dave some cash.

After a few days of playing, I had hand cramps and needed a break. I talked Dylan into teaching Alice to play. That way they can play together and I can get my life back. Happily, Alice loved the game, sadly she wanted to play it with me immediately. Then they started fighting over who's turn it was to play with me, my plan backfired! Not to mention that I as swear that I was starting to get Carpal Tunnel. Of course then they started fighting over me, we spend more time fighting about playing than actually playing the game. Because insanity is what happens in my house. I don't really mind becasue playing with Alice of course is much worse than playing with Dylan.

Have you ever played Rock, Paper, Scissors with a three year old? She goes, "One, two , twee." Then she throws down her hand in some random bizarre shape with fingers contorting in every direction. Then she sees if my hand is making rock, paper, or scissors. Then she quickly bashes her hand in a first onto my hand as hard as she can and yells.

"I win! Do again!" Then Dylan screams.

"No! It's my turn!" They both grab hold of one of my arms screaming and pulling.

"No, Dylan! My momma!"

"No Alice my turn!" I am now a human tug-of-war, and contemplating smashing their heads together like melons and making a fruit salad.

After calming them down and icing my broken arms and hands, I come up with a plan. I run into the computer room and look online, with just a hope and a prayer. Miracles happen! I find Rock, Paper, Scissors as an online game! After I was done doing the dance of joy on the dining room table, I call Dylan and show him my discovery.

The boy sits quietly and plays for two hours! Alice watches for a bit, then gets bored and goes to the playroom to play dollies. So what if his mind is being turned to mush by the computer. My hands are no longer the kids favorite toys. I am free! My hands are my own again! No more Rock, Paper Scissors for me!

This morning Dylan jumps onto my bed to wake me up. He also wants to tell me something important. So important it can't wait until I use the bathroom or brush my teeth. There he is basically sitting on top of me while I am trapped in bed.

Dylan looks down at me and says very seriously: "Mommy, I like to play Rock, Paper, Scissors, on the computer now. But, don't worry Bobby (His stuffed bunny) is going to play Rock, Paper, Scissors, with you. But, there is one little problem. Bobby doesn't have fingers so he always has to throw paper."

I almost peed my pants! I tried my best not to laugh. I just nodded and even had to have a few practice rounds with the bunny, before Dylan would get off me. Why? Because, this is my house, where the insanity flows like water!

My Love My Valentine...

My family and I are driving to the YMCA on Saturday afternoon. All of us together going to have family fun. The sun is shining, the kids are getting along, life is good. I play with the radio station and hear a sweet Romantic song flowing like rose petals out of the speakers.

"All of my life I have been waiting for, All you give to me, You've opened my eyes, And showed me how to love unselfishly"

I turn up the radio and say to Dave, "sweety this is song is for you."

"I've dreamed of this a thousand times before, In my dreams i couldnt love you more, I will give you my heart Until the end of time," I reach over and caress his cheek, and then take hold of his free hand that is on the console and say, this our song, because you are my Valentine." I gaze lovingly into the side of his face.

He looks over at me.....the lady on the radio sings: You're all i need My love, my valentine. I notice that Dave is looking not at me, but at the windshield.

"Lydia, you need to get a new inspections sticker." I let go of his hand and punch him in the arm.

"What!" He yelps and starts laughing.

"Dylan? Do you want to be mommy's valentine?"

"What? You do, it expires in February." I punch him again.

Call the coroner the romance is dead!

Dave will adamantly deny that the romance is dead. He likes romance that is planned and pragmatically carried out with precise and calculated actions...Yeah that's hot...