The Family that Travels Together....

See how I'm kind of "fake" smiling in this picture...

I think that taking a trip as a family gives you a very good picture of how your family works together as a team.  We’ve just arrived back after four days in Chicago and I’ve kind of been thinking about that ever since.  Every person seems to have a different response to being in a strange place.  Max gets (really) excited, Zoe gets nervous, Joe takes control and I start looking for bathrooms.  Seriously, where are all the damn bathrooms in Chicago???

We arrived at the hotel on Sunday and the kids immediately wanted to go swimming at the hotel pool.  Joe and I, of course, were ready to go explore the city and find great food.  Joe and I won.  Before we left home Joe got this new App on his Iphone which was super cool.  You can punch in where you want to go and it will give you walking, driving and bus directions to get there.  He was all over it.  He’d figure out where we were headed and then he’d find the nearest bus to take us there.  To be fair, it wasn’t always entirely accurate which prompted some pretty vocal complaints from the kids, of course.  (Surely you didn’t think I was doing any complaining…) Still, it got us where we needed to go most times so that was good.

Max loved the bus system.  He loved to stand up and hold onto the straps above for balance – even when there was a seat available.  Mostly he just hung on them like a monkey at the zoo.  His favorite part, I think, was the time we let him sit in the back of the bus.  There were a bunch of “20 somethings” back there and the language was pretty darn colorful.  He LOVED it.

Zoe and I made it to the American Girl doll store.  Ugh.  The women in there are CRAZY. You’d see a mom completely decked out in heels, full make-up, perfect outfit and perfect hair marching along in front of her daughters who looked like little “mini-me’s”.  Some of the mom’s seemed more excited to be there than their kids. Weird.  I overheard a couple that was riding behind me on the escalator.

Husband:   “That’s it.  I’ve already spent over a thousand dollars in here and I’m not spending a penny more.  We need to leave now.”

Wife:   “Honey, it’s not like we come here every day.  Gracie has been so excited about this trip because of this store.  Let’s just finish shopping on the lower level and then we’ll go.”

To my astonishment, he agreed.  Meanwhile I was trying to pry a pair of $22 slippers out of Zoe's clinging hands.  I ended up spending $40 and I felt THAT was excessive!

This is not to say that the trip was without it’s trials.  On our final day, we went to the Lincoln Park Zoo.  The issue started right inside the gate.  Joe wanted to get his hands on a map right away.  I thought we could just wander around and look at stuff.  (“Look kids – seals!”)  He was adamant and we began our march towards the gift shop (though I did stop and look at the seals…).  I was being a bit of a smart *ss because it was the end of the trip and I wanted to do things my way.  Within earshot of Joe (and in a very childish way) I started saying to Max, “Well, some people believe that life is all about the destination.  Myself, well, I think the journey is far more important.”

Joe, overhearing this, shot back “That’s cool as long as you don’t mind arriving at the destination without all your stuff.”  A blatant reference to the fact that I had misplaced (more likely thrown away) all of our cell phone and Ipod chargers somewhere between the train and the hotel.

Well.  That turned the worm for sure.  By the time we arrived at the penguin exhibit, we were not speaking.  At one point I said to the kids, “Look at that cute penguin over there! I think he’s going to jump in the water!”  When they went to investigate I turned to Joe and said, through clenched teeth, “You’d better just knock it off.  Do you honestly think that I don’t feel bad enough about the stupid chargers without you rubbing it in?”  I was able to get the smile plastered back on my face just as the kids arrived.  To Joe’s credit, he apologized to me in the botanical garden house a little bit later.

All in all another great trip to Chicago with lots of fun memories.

Is Nutella Poisonous to Dogs?

The kids are on a new lunch kick. They want me to send in these “snack wraps” that are made out of a flour tortilla which is then filled with peanut butter and jelly or peanut butter and Nutella. Truth be told I only came up with it when I went to pack lunches one morning and found that we were out of bread. So I tried to put an international spin on things and push the wraps. Anyway, they bought it and they love them.

So yesterday they came home from school and asked for snacks. Naturally, I made a few wraps and passed them out. About ½ an hour later Zoe appeared in the kitchen holding a half chewed and kind of drooly looking wrap. “I found this on my floor,” she said with disgust.  “I think Sugar (the miniature schnauzer) got into it”.

Then Joe walked in. He really did used to love the dog. Seriously, when we first got her he was never without her, sometimes even carrying her in the pocket of his overalls while working outside. It was adorable. But now he doesn’t like her. I’m not sure what happened – he complains that she’s too fat and she’s always lurking around the kitchen (to which I take personal offense…) – but he’s just not that fond of her.

Let me preface this event by saying that I was about ¾ of the way into a pretty elaborate dinner preparation and I was very focused. As I was stirring something and sautéing something else, Zoe entered with her proclamation of blame on the dog. Joe took the half eaten wrap and was walking towards Sugar with it in a menacing way– not unlike walking towards a dog with a rolled up newspaper but, you know,  with Nutella. He was saying “SUGAR. Bad Dog. What did you do?”

As this point she came over to me because I am her protector from all things great and small. Whether it’s a feisty chicken or a thunderstorm, she can count on me to protect her. So she was huddled behind me while I was trying to tend to the stovetop and tell Joe to leave her alone.  At that point, Max entered the room and thrust the phone into my hands.  I answered the phone and it was my mother in law asking if I’ve had a chance to check my email and show the kids a new game she had sent.

A gal can only do so much. With the phone tucked under my chin I shifted things on the stovetop and turned to Joe. “Knock it off. She gets it, ok?”  But he loves to tease her and see her get upset so he continued to harangue her. My poor mother in law had to witness the whole mess on the phone. Zoe upset over the loss of her wrap, Joe harassing the dog and me trying desperately not to burn dinner. Max was probably up to something interesting as well but I didn’t have time to check.  Sometimes I just feel like one, big, flailing mess, you know?

Too Close For Comfort

I had (yet another) unpleasant wildlife encounter last night.  I opened the door that leads into the garage to take out the recycling. As I began to step out I looked down and saw that I was about to step on a raccoon.  A big raccoon. I jumped back and slammed the door but not before I saw our cats walking around, nonchalantly, near the raccoon.  So I cautiously opened the door a tiny bit and frantically tried to call the cats to come inside the house. The cats, clearly not understanding my concern stared blankly at me and appeared to wonder what I was so freaked out about.

I got one cat inside – Bitty – who wants to be a house cat anyway so he was all over it. Tut, the other cat, seemed to be just fine where he was. I turned my attention back to the raccoon and I noticed that he really didn’t look right. He was moving slowly and his fur looked patchy and unhealthy. I opened the door again, just enough to stick my head out and there he sat just looking at me.

I said to him, “Now you get out of here and leave my cats alone. Get! Get!!”  No response. I tried again, “You  get out of here NOW!”  I shook my finger at him for good measure. At that point he actually turned back to the sour cream container and continued licking it. How very rude.

Joe was out for the evening as he is whenever I seem to have these “Why is Nature in My Living Room” moments but I knew he’d be home soon. I texted him to tell him that we had a clearly rabid raccoon in our recycling bins and that he should be careful in his dealings with it.

Silly me, I assumed he would be dealing with it.  When I heard him pull into the garage I had my eyeball right up to the peep hole in the door so that I could witness the attack should it occur. He about jumped out of his skin when he pulled the door open and I was practically attached to the handle.

“What are you doing?” he said, clearly startled.

“I’m watching for the raccoon!! See? Don’t you see its tail sticking out of that bin.” I’ll admit that my voice had a bit of an “edge” to it and might have been a few octaves too high for a normal human voice.  Joe was not nearly as concerned as I was nor as concerned as I thought he should be.

 “All right, hold on,” he said.  “I’ll go get a firecracker and scare him out.”

“A firecracker?” I asked. “It’s 11:00 at night. Don’t you think that might wake up the kids? Or scare the neighbors? Or set fire to the garage?”  Did I mention that he had been at the pub with a few friends... 

It was obvious to me at that point that I would have to come up with an alternative.  So I started barking orders at him. “You’re going to need to go in through the garage doors and sneak up on him. Take a big stick or something, I think there’s a rake on the front porch, and keep it in front of you at all times in case he lunges for you. Once you get in there you can poke him out of the bin with the rake.  Or, we could lure him out with some cat food? I’m not sure. What do you think?”

It was clear that Joe had stopped listening to me right after I said “You’re”.  He opened the door and started banging things around. The problem was this. He had the door half open with one leg in and one leg out. I had visions of a rabid raccoon rushing through the open door and careening through the kitchen and on down the hall to gnaw on the kids’ faces. 

Apparently Joe had not considered this. Seriously, do I have to think of EVERYTHING?  So while Joe was tearing things apart in the garage I went to check on the kids and I didn’t notice Max walk by and head to the garage. I heard him call me and then I noticed he was in the kitchen. Apparently “Bitty” had come into his room meowing and had woken him up and he came out to see what was going on. 

He looked into the garage to see his father dancing around and yelling obscenities at some unseen object.  Good Lord. We’ll just add that to the list of items to discuss with his therapist. I hope that therapist has lots of kids because we’ll probably be sending them all to Yale or Harvard.

  

All’s well that ends well I suppose. The raccoon was gone this morning when I left for work. At least I think he was. It was kind of hard to tell because I was running to my car really fast…

Another snow day???

A collective scream of "WHHHYYYY?" went up all over Dexter this morning when the news came that we were having a snow day. Mothers everywhere fell to their knees praying that it just wasn't so. After a 4 day week-end due to President's day it was just too much to bear.

I really have nothing left to give. There are no more craft projects, no more cookies to bake, no more patience left in me at all. Not one bit. At this point I'm actually begging my children to let me lay down with a cool cloth on my forehead. Like that's going to happen.

The kids are bored to tears too. We've pretty much done all there is to do and we're just kind of staring warily at each other. I was doing really well right up to today's announcement. We had gone to a movie, we went sledding, we had play dates and sleepovers. But today? Nothing. I dragged them out to get haircuts just to get us out of the house for a bit.

Never really thought I'd say this but I'm SOOO reading for spring!

What will he think of next?

Last night I was feeling pretty tired. This week I've just been really exhausted which the MD said is to be expected. Still, it's horrible to be tired when you've got kids climbing all over you wanting to show you school papers and needing snacks.

It is safe to say that I was not at my parenting best last night. I was in the recliner in the living room resting (with my eyes open - sort of) when I noticed Max going in and out the front door. I wasn't sure what he was doing but I thought he might be playing with the cats. Until I saw him go out the front door with a bucket full of water. THAT woke me up.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Icing the driveway" he said, as if I had just asked how his day was.

 "Why?" I asked.

"I don't know. It's fun, I guess."

By the time I was able to get up and survey the driveway I was shocked. An area about 5 feet wide and 10 feet long was a complete sheet of ice. It was actually kind of impressive though I didn't let on about that.

I kept trying to get to the bottom of why he did it. He mentioned that he could "skate" on it but that it would also be funny to watch our cars slip on it. OMG. Is he trying to kill me? Decidedly not. He's not that kind of kid, but wow, icing the driveway. Huh. 

He never ceases to amaze me. The things he comes up with - riding my garden cart while holding onto a makeshift sail.  Or the things he says - What do all of these things have in common? Banana, apple, peach and pear. The rest of us might answer that they're all fruit. Max's answer was that they all have skin. Which is true, but, wait what?

Sometimes I feel a kinship to Mrs. Edison - "Thomas, you're going to do WHAT with a kite and a key? In this weather?"  I suppose though that the worst thing I can do is stifle his creativity and his slightly skewed view of the world.

He constantly keeps me guessing and I'm never quite sure what he'll come up with next. When he was really little I used to say things like, "Don't ride your bike without a helmet". Now I have to be a little more thorough.

"Don't jump off the roof, don't make the dog pull you in a wagon (she's only a mini schnauzer after all), don't bring that chicken in the house, don't eat chili with your fingers (Joe's favorite), don't try to ride the llama." I really should just record something and just roll the playback. It would save me a lot of time.

Jail Break

Had a little "situation" in the barn yesterday. Manny (the llama) and Phineas (the not-so-much-a-potbelly pig) broke into the barn. They have a stall inside the barn that leads to the outside so they can all get shelter and warmth. From there, there's a gate that keeps them from getting into the rest of the barn. Except in this case, it didn't.

We had just gotten a big load of hay (54 bales) so the barn was nice and full of fresh, green food for them. We aren't sure exactly how long the rampage had lasted but the toppled and destroyed bales left no doubt that it was long enough. As per usual, when I tried to get to the bottom of it I was met with stony silence. I think the pig may have grunted but you can bet he was just trying to implicate the llama. Either way, we're going to have some serious discussions about this in the days to come.

There will be consequences. Like maybe I won't love on them quite as much when I go out to feed. So that's 20 llama kisses instead of the usual 25. That should teach him a little something about who he's messing with. I expect this kind of thing from Phineas because, you know, he's a pig. But the llama? I am so disappointed.

Slow and Steady Wins the Race

I am officially beginning to feel somewhat human again. Barely. It seems that I drastically underestimated exactly what was involved in this whole abdominal hysterectomy thing. I was prepared for a few days of tenderness and pain. Perhaps even a few days in bed. But alas, it's far worse than I imagined.

I'm not totally complaining.There is something to be said for "laying low" and not doing much of anything. I've been reading, watching TV and chatting with friends on the phone - between naps. It's not all bad. My skin actually looks fantastic - lack of putting makeup on for two weeks I suppose and I'm drinking more water than I ever have before.

Still. It's tough not to be able to do what I want/need to do. It's tough to just have to sit there and wait for someone to help me do what needs to be done. It's not like I'm a real go-getter, can't keep me down kind of girl but I am getting frustrated as the days wear on.

It has been nice for the pace to slow down some. It's nice to actually have time to sit and think or sit and not think. Just to have time to myself is a nice thing. It would be better if my tummy didn't hurt though.

So I'm slowly coming out of my fog and starting to get a look around. I walked out to see the animals the other day which I haven't been able to do thus far. It was really nice to see them again and to say hello. The walk exhausted me but it was well worth the effort.