Happy Birthday To Me!

Thanks to all my well-wishers on fb for all your b-day comments. 35! Ugh.

Hoping to have a nice night out with my hubby. I think we might take the van out, maybe come home and watch a movie in the car. Who knows, the point is that we have the entire night ahead of us and even though I won't be throwing back any booze-infused drinks, I am glad to be celebrating my b-day.

Also want to wish a very Happy Birthday to my dear, dear friend Lauren. I love you and I can't imagine sharing a b-day with a better woman or a better friend.

Say my Name

As my due date fast approaches--5 weeks left to go--we are still up in the air on what to name this kid if it indeed turns out to be the Last Lady. We do have a few names but they are on a very fluid list that seems to change daily.

As always, I am checking out the celeb baby names just to see what new and unusual monikers are out there. So when I clicked on the article about Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon's releasing the names of their twins, I don't know why I was surprised by the ridiculousness of it all.

Boy name: Moroccan Scott
Girl name: Monroe (no middle name--like her mother)

The boy was apparently named after the top floor of Mariah's penthouse, the girl Marilyn Monroe. Hey, I applaud individuality and wanting to name your kids something that not everyone in their classroom will answer to, but Moroccan? Really? Really? Does Mariah know that these are children and not little frilly, pouf-pouf dogs that you carry around in a Louis Vuitton bag? Yikes. Hopefully they will call him Rocco. And hopefully we will decide on a name we like as well.

Momma in a Mini-Van or the Three-Bean Baby Driving Machine

Well, it finally happened--we got a mini-van.

Let's pause here for a second and let that sink in.

Mini-van.

Can you tell I have conflicted feelings? Can you tell that even though our lease was up, on what some may deem as our equally uncool station wagon, and that we definitely needed a bigger car to accommodate our growing family, that the thought of an actual mini-van has haunted me for a while?

Let's be perfectly clear, the last time I spent any considerable time in a mini-van it was being driven by my then 19 or 20 year boy-toy (now my husband) around the streets of the town where we grew up in an ardent attempt to find a place for us to hook-up. I don't know if I should even be admitting to that because I am not 100% sure he won't still get in trouble for it. But in the spirit of full-disclosure, and the fact that he knocked me up three times leading us to this mini-van purchase, I am fully admitting it here.

Let's also be clear, I am not a car person. I have no idea about makes or models and I don't particularly care about all the bells and whistles. I am glad when the radio works and the AC does its job. If asked to identify the getaway car after a hypothetical bank robbery, I would maybe be able to tell you the color and if it was a very recognizable make like a Hummer or a VW Bug. But the terms "late-model sedan" or "V6 engine" mean less than nothing to me.

And yet I found myself trolling the Internet looking at any type of car that might accommodate my three kids and our uncanny ability to accrue stuff. I looked at SUV's and cross-overs. I researched price and style and I tried to figure out what would work best for us as a family. Sure, the smaller SUV's with the optional third row were more sexy than the boxy vans, but in all actuality they looked like a pain in the ass to get car seats in and out of and they were lacking on storage space.

So, I found myself one damp, chilly evening with my husband and the Ladies in the double stroller, a light mist falling on our heads, walking the lot at a local dealership looking at the mini-vans. They were spacious, they had dual-sliding doors, DVD players, storage space, all the things you want to hear when you are shopping for a family car. But I was still a little skeptical. Could I picture my kids in a van? Yes. Could I imagine myself driving one? Not so much. It isn't so much the cliche of being a mom in a mini-van, it is just that these things are so big and I am not used to driving such a large car. I mean, if we just had the square footage of the mini-van added on to our condo, I am not sure we would have to put the place on the market. The other issue is that these vans are all automatic. I haven't driven an automatic car since 1994, not since the days of the Chevy Cavalier and my first few months on the open road.

Well, we looked at the options, the Ladies got out of the stroller and sat in the seats for a while, we went inside and my husband sat down and talked numbers with the car guys and I tried to entertain the Ladies with glossy brochures and photos of our not so distant future when we too would be mini-van driving.

As it turns out my husband found a good deal at a different dealership and so a few nights later we repeated the scene, the Ladies once again in tow--this time strollerless and wandering aimlessly around the show floor trying to get into cars and letting me know that if we did get a new car, it should be red.

I will not get into the amount of things that happened/went wrong/needed to be accomplished in a very short window of time between the time when my husband called me on the Friday before Easter and let me know that the dealership in our town couldn't honor a deal that was being run by one in the town where we grew up (a short 1/2 hour away) and that we would have to go over to the other dealership on the Saturday before Easter in order to check out what their availability was, all before my husband left the following Thursday and our old car needed to be turned in just a mere four days after that. Phew.

The anxiety that this caused me could have induced labor. I will say (and I know this is technically a backhanded compliment) that although I think my husband could have been a bit more on the ball about handling all the ups and downs of this transaction (like perhaps starting to look for a new car more than a week and a half before the old one--one that needed repairs and to be inspected by the leasing company--needed to be turned in, and that only he could pick-up the new car from the dealership even though he knew he was going to be gone for a week. . .  I could go on, but I really am trying to be nice here and not get my blood pressure rising. . . ) in the end, he did take care of everything that needed to be done and he drove that mini-van off the lot with the Ladies all excited in the back and even told me he thought it was a "smooth-ride," when we both know it is a mini-van and I was super scared to drive it. So, I will say thank you to him and that I love him very much.

So like I said, the Ladies were very excited. The Lady had fallen asleep during the ride over to the dealership to pick up the car and the Little Lady was wreaking havoc indoors with her father, so when the salesman came out to show me all the bells and whistles that this new ride had to offer, I had to contend with the Little Lady climbing on the seats, trying to get into my lap and push buttons and throwing a fit because she wanted to drive. When the Lady woke up, we were able to get her into her seat, attach the headphones to her head and pop in Strawberry Shortcake. You better bet that I came prepared with some DVDs and quite honestly that was the only option in the entire van that I wanted to be proficient in before we drove out of there.

The Ladies on their maiden voyage in the mini-van.



The Little Lady really thinks she should be driving this thing. Note the amount of stuff already in the car and the fact that one part of the way back is down, but I can't figure out how to get the seat back up.

So, the next morning I put the Lady in her new car and drove her to school. Did I make my husband wait to make sure I could back out of the garage OK? Yes. Did he call me later in the day and ask why it took me 5 minutes to back out of the driveway? Also yes.

But now that I have almost 5 days of mini-van driving under my belt, including a two-hour drive to the beach house, I am trying to focus on the positives of this family machine and less on the stigmas of being a mini-van driver. I know that there is a divide out there in the parenting world about these vans. There are those in the "Loser Cruiser" camp and those in the "Swagger Wagon" one. I will say I was hesitant about joining the "Swagger Wagon" constituency, mostly because it seemed a little cultish. Every mini-van driver out there seemed to be trying to convince me to join their side. I also was convinced that the minute I pulled into my driveway in the new car, I would be compelled to get those cartoon stickers for the back window that represent each person in our family.

In the end, I think we made the right decision for our family. We got a nice new car with ample space for not much more than we were paying for the wagon. It has drop down DVD players with headphones for the Ladies and the option to watch two different movies at once, plus a rear view camera so that I can see if I am backing into any garbage cans.

It also has three free months of satellite radio. So I set the dial to the Grateful Dead channel and sometimes I find myself thinking about those other vans I might have spent some time in in my youth while waiting for a concert or two to start, and then I look in my little fish-eye mirror and catch my own little miracles in their captain chairs, singing off-key to the Strawberry Shortcake theme song while wearing their headphones and I think that maybe we made the right decision after all.

Hippity, Hop, Hop

Here are a few pictures from our Easter weekend. It was a whirlwind as usual but I think the Ladies really enjoyed themselves and we got to spend a lot of time with family.

 This is a pic of the Ladies with their new umbrellas, courtesy of the Easter Bunny. Yes, they are wearing nothing but a raincoat and boots in this photo. And yes, the Little Lady is wearing a size 5T raincoat because she wanted to and we don't have any in her size.

 The Lady. I mean she poses for every shot. It is hard to catch her in a candid moment. We will be having a personal photo shoot this weekend because she needs to bring in a photo of the two of us for "share" on Tuesday at school. Is it totally pathetic that I have like zero photos of me and my kids together? Probably, but I also have a double chin, occasional bouts of adult acne and am in dire need of a brow wax.

The Little Lady running. Note the band aid on her arm. It is a Lightning McQueen band aid. She had it on for like four or five days. It made it through a few baths and finally had to be removed last night at my parents house, only when it was replaced by a Dora and Boots band aid. Please be aware there is no injury to cover and she is, in old-school rapper style, wearing it only as a fashion statement.

I don't know why I am constantly surprised after these Holidays when we come home with literally bagfuls of stuff. I am grateful for the generosity of our family, but we now have 8 new Easter baskets, like 75 plastic eggs and one giant Ziploc gallon-size bag full of candy that is slowly losing all of its delicious mini Snickers.

Dear Old Navy, RE: Smelly Jellies

Dear Old Navy,

I recently purchased a pair of your pink sparkle jelly sandals for the Lady. To say she was excited by this purchase would be an understatement. Anything pink, anything sparkle, anything shoe related has some immediate effect on her little toddler brain. This shoe purchase was actually a bit of an impulse buy on my part because we were returning a dress that she refused to wear, after picking it out herself on a prior visit. Since she had seen the jellies on our last visit and I told her that at another time we could get them and since we had the store cred--well we went home with the jellies.

Old Navy, I have to applaud you on your security/impressive sales technique of these shoes. You have them clipped together in such a way that it is virtually impossible to try these shoes on let alone walk around in them to see how they fit. In order to actually get a good sense of how they actually feel on the Lady's feet we had to purchase them. Bravo, Old Navy, Bravo.

Now, I will say that I have made plenty of purchases from you in the past. You do have easy, affordable clothing that I know will eventually fall apart in my washing machine, but in terms of comfort, style and my wallet have helped me round out my wardrobe and the wardrobes of my Ladies on many an occasion. In fact, I am looking forward to my post-partum days where I am wearing pretty much nothing but your tank tops and yoga pants as I try to maneuver the world of three kids.

I don't want to get too far off topic here, the real reason I am writing you is to let you know that your jelly shoes stink. They smell so bad that I am considering burying them in the backyard, however I am fearful that whatever chemical component these shoes are made up of may leech into the groundwater and contaminate my drinking water.

I mean are these shoes made out of glitter and toxic waste?

The info listed on the sole of the shoe says that they are made out of "other materials" it doesn't even say plastic on there. I mean is it horse parts and pixie dust? Seriously, I am concerned.

I am concerned for the people responsible for making these shoes are they losing patches of hair? Do the inside of their noses look like they have suffered from years of cocaine abuse? How are the delivery people handling the overwhelming stench coming off of these shoes as they open up the back of their trucks and unload? Are Old Navy employees complaining? Will they start wearing paper masks?

I will say that the smell was present in the store, but since it was a large place and since I wasn't quite sure where the source was, I bought the shoes. It wasn't until we got home that the sad reality set in. The Lady loves these shoes but the stench is driving me crazy. I have left them at the top of the stairs so they don't co-mingle with the Ladies toys or food preparation, but every time I walk in the door I am hit with the rank odor eminating off of these pretty pink shoes.

I know I am pregnant and have a heightened sense of smell, but I am worried that one day I will wake up and the Lady's feet will have absorbed the smell of these shoes and I will have to live out my days with the knowledge that I purchased smelly jellies for my kid and that it has permanently permeated her feet.

Where is the line Old Navy between affordable, cute and cool and purchasing items that may or may not be polluting the air and land outside the factory where these are produced and causing my gag reflex to go into overdrive every time I enter my house? Tell me where?

The other day in sheer desperation I opened the window and put the shoes on the ledge. The Lady wanted to know why her jellies were hanging out on the window sill. I told her that I thought they smelled bad. She took them down, fastened them to her feet and told me she liked the smell. I am pretty sure she thought I would get rid of them, but there is no way that anyone could like the smell of what I can only imagine is a cross between liquid ass molded into a shoe shape, combined with shimmer and the dreams of those factory workers somewhere in the depths of China who hopefully have access to nose plugs and some Glade room deodorizers.

In closing, I wanted to make you aware of the double-edge sword your store offers me and my family. You are so good at drawing us in with your great deals and campy ads, your affordable prices and your use of sparkle. However, at the end of the day, when the tags are removed and the shoes are off, I am left with nothing but a nagging feeling that I am a terrible parent because I have exposed my child to a product made of "other materials" and have brought a shoe into my house that has started to not only erode my sense of smell, but that has left me partially high on the sick, chemical stench, which I am pretty sure isn't great for my unborn kid.

So, Old Navy, until we meet again in a cramped dressing room, with the three to five beach dresses I will be purchasing to drape over my post-pregnancy body, I am yours in stank,

Bean

A Little Tap, Tap, Tappy!




All dressed up for tap/ballet!

 As promised a photo of the Lady in her tap outfit. She loved, loved, loved the class and I am super happy that she was so into it. She also didn't give me any trouble about putting her hair back! Ah, the little victories!

The best part about the entire class is that the studio has been redesigned and the parents are no longer inside the room with the kids. This means that I can actually leave the dance studio and not have to worry about the Lady missing me or the Little Lady trying her hardest to join the class.

There is a window to peek into, which is great you should have seen the Lady's face, all I can say is joy, joy, joy as she shuffled and stamped her way across the floor, and I will probably hang for a few minutes at the beginning and end of each class, but I don't have to worry about her always being on the look out for me.

I will say we have had to limit the tap shoe time in the house. As much as she loves these shoes, they are super loud. Not sure my husband appreciated the recital that took place above his head on Saturday morning, but hey the Lady needs to practice her art.

"Scared" of Sesame and the Ladies Love to Dance

The Little Lady at her Music and Dance Class. The other kid in the photo was everywhere. Tried to crop him out, but no go.

So, my husband took the Ladies to Sesame Street Live last weekend. We purposly did not tell the Lady where she was going because she has a tendency to talk herself out of new experiences before she even tries them. Apparantly, she was initially excited when she saw the sign and the truck with all the characters on it, but then turned to tears when the actual entering of the building occured. She told the hubby she wanted to go home and that she was "scared of Oscar." She has been using this "scared" excuse for a couple of weeks now. Sometimes she is scared of school, scared of getting dressed and her teacher told me that the other day at school she told her she was "scared" of washing her hands for fear that her princess band-aid would come off.

I am pretty sure "scared" is code for "I want to do whatever I want, without you interfering, so deal with it."

The Little Lady, however, had a great time. She was singing and swaying. That kid can't get enough of Elmo. I was glad that the Wild Ones were there as well with their parents. I know more hands help, especially in an arena filled with kids and muppets.

I was just as happy to take a little nap, have an uninterupted shower and a bit of rest to help me finally get over my cold.

I will say I was a little surprised that the Little Lady wasn't as enthusiastic about her first music/dance class this week. I expected her to be clapping and running about in the midst of everything, but she held back a bit at first. Granted, she will be going with the sitter to this class, so it was probably hard to have me sitting there watching and not really partcipating with her, but I wanted her to get used to going without me.  I am hopeful that she gets into the swing of it. (Note the hair clip in her hair in the photo above. She will only wear it with the sitter, it is crazy!) I will say that by the time the bubbles and the parachute came out, she was a bit more involved.

We will see how the combo class of ballet/tap goes on Friday with the Lady. She already thinks she can tap dance in her sparkle shoes. I am going to have to hide the real ones from her at home. Talk about a lead foot, that girl can pound the floor. The thing I am actually more concerned about is the fact that in this class the dancers have to wear their hair up.

Please for the love of God Lady, don't tell me you are "scared" to wear your hair back.