Invitation With Disaster

The birthday party is three days away and I am waiting on 10 RSVPs. Most of the missing RSVPs are from my daughter’s preschool class. I am not surprised as most of the Moms whose kids received invitations have no idea who I or my daughter is. Actually the girl only wanted to invite two boys from her class Cody and John, but mostly John. Oh does she talk about John. John wore a fire fighter costume for Halloween, John likes Sponge Bob, John, John, John, she loves John, and she wants to marry him. Unless he is absent that day, then she loves Cody. Isn’t that the fickle nature of a three-year-old? I was betting that either boy coming to the party would make Alice’s crazy with joy. Since Cody’s mom was the only mom to RSVP, and her answer was no, now I had my sights set on John.


I had a mission this morning I had to track down John’s mom and ask her if they were going to the party. Then I would make them feel bad and guilty until they changed their plans. That is how I find myself trying to act nonchalant as I pace up and down the hall in front of my daughter’s classroom. After about five minutes of pretending to read bulletin boards I see my targets John and his mother. Before the kid can get his back pack off I am at his cubby.

“Hi” I say to the mom. “The party place is asking for a head count and I was wondering if you guys can go.” She smiles politely.

“Go where?”

“To Alice’s birthday party.”

“When is it?”

“This Sunday, remember Pirates and Princesses?” She looks confused.

“No, I didn’t get an invitation”

“I put then in the cubbies. I am sure you got one.”

“Oh I must have lost it.”

“Well I really hope that you guys can go. My daughter likes your son a lot. She is always talking about him.” She smiles.

“Oh that’s so nice to hear. This Sunday?”

“Yes at 1:30.”

“Oh no, we have his brother’s soccer tournament at 2:00.” I am crushed. Alice will be so sad.

“No problem. “ I am trying to hide my disappointment.

“Maybe we could set up a play date?” She looks down at her son. “Tyler? Would you like a play date with Alice?” TYLER? Who the heck is Tyler? I didn’t even invite this kid. Does Alice even know this kid?

Tyler shrugs and I make a break for it. “Oh my, is that clock right? I have to get to my meeting. I have to run, let’s make a play date sometimes, have a great day.” I run out of the building and hide in my car. Does this stuff only happen to me?

Date Night

I just got back from a date with my boyfriend. ou know Dave? That man I married nine-years ago. Since I have been working nights and weekends we haven’t been spending any time together. He rushes home from work so that I can rush out to work. Lately we have been spending about two minutes together in the kitchen. Our conversations go like this.


“Hi honey. I’m home.” He says walking through the door putting his laptop case on the kitchen table

“Thank goodness. I’m late-Dinner is in the freezer-The boy has a spelling test-Your mom called-The dog ate the remote-The girl needs a bath and the washer is making that clicking sound again.” I reply in one breath as I push him out of the way as I make a mad dash for the door.

Yeah, so we are not quite the hot young couple we were back in the day. Like all couples with small children we are busy, stressed, and at times lucky that the little buggers let us live to see another day. Seriously, we are somewhat overwhelmed with our little girl’s tantrums and our darling boy’s infinite energy; add in the incontinent neurotic dog, two jobs, social obligations, and a house and what does that equal? Mentally exhausted couples like us who dreams about being in bed together for a long night of heavy sleep. What? Some of you might say. You would rather have a night of sleep then have a night of romance? My response is; are we talking about eight hours of uninterrupted bliss? Then heck yes!

Okay so that’s just sad. I admit it. I need to start thinking less about my sleep and think more about my husband. My husband agrees. In fact he asked me out on a date. Three weeks ago. Yes, it took us three weeks to schedule a date, but we eventually did.

I got all dolled up like in the old days. I wish I looked like I did back in the old days. I tried to make what I got work. I shaved and everything (that could be a blog of it’s own). I haven’t shaved since the kids have been back at school. I know. I am so ashamed. With my furry legs weed wacked. I was ready to wear my only nice dress, makeup, and accessories. I looked great and felt great. First time for a long time. No punch line.

Well the date went great. I liked him a lot. I hope that he liked me too. Maybe he'll asks me out again?

The Truth About Number Two

I worked at the Store last Sunday and as I was driving there at 8:00 o’clock in the morning swigging my large coffee I had a thought. I thought about the size of the coffee I was devouring and the affect that said coffee would have on me. Yes, I would have more energy, and yes, I would be alert, but I know darn well that drinking all of that coffee was going to make me have to go to the bathroom. Yes, there was no avoiding it I was going to have to do a number two at work.

You know? Number two? As in defecate, eliminate, or if you live in my house my house; do poopies at work. Call the act what you may no one wants to do that activity at work especially when there is only one bathroom. Furthermore there were at least 25 other people working at the store that morning that had also just had morning coffee. What would happen if we all had to go at once? Sometimes coffee sneaks up on you and you have to go. I finished my coffee parked and tried to think about something else. Thankfully Cute Guy who knows how cute he was parking at the same time as me. I always sneak a look at him because he is so adorable. Darn! He looked right at me with that “I am too young and hot for you” look. Does he always have to catch me? It’s not like I am in the least bit interested I am just window shopping.

About an hour later I am folding pink shirts when my tummy starts grumbling. Oh no. I drop a shirt mid fold and walk as fast as I can without looking like I am rushing. I walk into the bathroom and find that my hypothesis is partly right. All of the stalls are being used. I walk out and pretend to use the water fountain until someone leaves. After what feels like three hours someone walks out. I scurry back in and am thankful that I score the large handicapped stall at the end or as I call it the suite. I sit there and notice that there is no noise. All of the other stalls had feet under them. I have no time to be shy so I go about my business. I even give a curtsey flush to help alleviate the aroma. My preemptive strike does motivate the others to commence. I flush again. Oops and again. Then I wonder if the other people are wondering why I am a compulsive flusher? One door opens and I hear the sink when she leaves another stall door opens and I hear the sink. Are people that silly? Are they hiding in stalls until the coast is clear? What? Girls do this. Why are we all embarrassed by a necessary natural function? I hear the sink shut off and the door close. I quickly open my stall and as I wash my hands I see a glimpse of two sets of quiet motionless feet waiting under two other stalls. People are so silly I think as I wash as quickly as possible and exit before someone sees me.

Their are certian aspects of my biology that I prefer to keep secret. I can't let anyone know that I actually had a number two at work. What if the word got out? People might tease me. Or worse they might gossip behind my back. Maybe even Cute Guy will hear. Maybe I'd be to embarresed to work there anymore? Now that would really be bad. Maybe on days that I work mornings I'll switch to tea.

Happy Birthday Month

I am dedicating this month on the blog to the kids as they both celebrate their birthdays in November.


In the middle of November in the year 2002 I was blessed with the birth of my first baby. A year later we celebrated his first birthday with a huge party. Dylan was asleep being passed from guest to guest. We did wake him to blow out a candle on a cupcake while the adults enjoyed the beautiful birthday cake. The first birthday is actually for the parents. The second birthday was for him and we had a theme, the Wiggles. At the time we didn’t know that this birthday party would be his last. Because three days before birthday number three I gave him the worst present a kid can have. I gave him a little sister. Not just any little sister, but one who he would have to share his birthday parties with for at least the next 10 years. Yes, it is true; my second child was born two years and 362 days after the first one. I have 12 months and 365 days that I could have birthed another baby, but I had to line my two up like box cars with Birthdays three days apart.

I think for the boy’s third birthday we had a Thomas the Tank Engine, but his new born sister stole the show. I am not sure of the exact details I was medicated and sleep deprived at the time. For all I know the kid spent his third birthday playing the nickel slots at Foxwoods. That whole season was a blur. New baby, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New-years, one minute I was in the hospital recovering then the next thing I knew it was Valentine’s Day.

Three four years later and Fall is still our busiest season. Now we throw a huge double birthday party for the kids. After their party I start Christmas shopping, and then preparing for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and then I need at least another four months to recover from all of the celebrating. This year we, yeah please, I am planning a Princess and pirate Party. Yes, double the cost, stress, and chaos. We have invited 40 kids. I am insane. The party is going to be ay a local YMCA and the kids will be able to dress up in costumes and play all sorts of sun treasure hunt games. I still haven’t figured out the cake. I might have three. A cake for the little princess, one for the pirate, and one for me to eat later after all of the kids have gone home. What? I get so stressed at this time of year.

I complain but I love to throw parties, especially one that are not in my house. Happy Happy Birthday!