Apparently we will be solely responsible for the downfall of her extra curricular activities and her social ranking in the cut throat society of 5th graders the world over. God...we are SO irresponsible!
But I am not gonna take the hit for the fact that she forgot this paperwork. I will totally take the blame for corrupting her morals or abandoning her in order to watch a weeks worth of Young & the Restless that has been stored in my DVR, but I draw the line at remembering to staple aforementioned dance team try-out form to her forehead so she doesn't forget them. And...by the way...if I "had" stapled the form to her head...I would have been accused of child abuse, so really I did her a favor by allowing her to forget the forms.
But outside of the form mishap, the day is going surprisingly well. Probably has a lot to do with the good time we had on Sunday. We took a little "daycation" (if this word hasn't been coined yet...I am totally claiming it...I have a flag and everything) to the Mississippi Gulf Coast. It was a little gloomy but we really had fun.
The gloom was probably a good thing seeing as my skin hasn't seen the light of day in like 3 months. If I had been exposed to a sun drenched day I may have combusted entirely. The girls, more so Han because Liv in her total teen angst refuses to show extreme excitement over anything, seemed suprised that we would take them to the beach. We've lived here for over 6 years and this is our first time going to the coast to actually go to the beach for the day.
After making the little over 30 minute drive we settled on a long stretch of sandy beach in Long Beach, Mississippi. Sure it's not the bluish green glory that we are used to from our days of living in Clearwater, Florida but who cares, we shrug off our clothes and drop our bags and towels before heading down to the water.
There were chaise lounges with umbrellas for rent, but we're cheap so when we found one that looked completely dilapidated and without a red "for rental" sign, we decided that this sad little Charlie Brown Christmas tree of a chaise was perfect for us to park our gear. Before we could be chased down by the chaise nazi's we hauled tush for the water.
With the way the weather looked the girls thought the water might be cold. They don't seem to realize that the Gulf tends to always be balmy like that area of the pool that your little cousin tends to piss in and then swim quickly away from. My immediate anxiety approached at the fact that here you can't see beneath the waters surface at all. Not even at the shoreline. Don't get me wrong...I love to swim. It's probably my most favorite outdoor activity. What I don't like is the scarey world that I imagine lays lurking just underneath the surface. It's not even a fear of big things like sharks. It's the way the sand is all squishy. It creeps me out. I don't know why but it erks me beyond belief. I'm a consistency girl....squishy things...I no likey! So within moments of crashing through the whitecapped surf I was clinging to Jon in hopes of using him to hold me up until we were deep enough where my feet would no longer touch the sand.
Immediately Jon was laughing hysterically at me. He kept saying he didn't understand what my problem was because he had never seen me act like this. I tried to think of the times that we may have possibly been to the beach together and I was coming up blank. He came out with our trip to Mexico. I was like...uh, of course I didn't act like this in Mexico. I was drunk when we were in Mexico. Tequila trumps fear of squishy sand! God...what a jackleg! Jaws could have come and drug me under and I wouldn't have given a flying shit because I was wasted.
So each time I squealed he would erupt in a fit of laughter.
Jon: Babe why are you squealing like that?
Me: Ewwww....cause I don't like the sand.
Me: Yeah. Seriously.
Jon: Okay you can't lean on me like that I am gonna drown. (head begins to slide under surface as waves crash around us)
Me: Stop moving away from me. (grasping at his neck like a drowning woman)
Jon: Girls. GIRLS...look at your mom, she's freaking out because she doesn't like the sand. Hahahahahaha.....
Hannah: Mom. Seriously? You're scared of the water?
Me: No I am not scared of the water. I like the water. I don't however, like the sand. It's squishy. I don't like squishy.
Hannah: So does this freak you out. (brushes by me with her hand to mimic a fish)
Me: No...but stop doing it anyways.
Hannah: Really??? (brushes a foot by me)
Me: Hannah, I mean it stop.
Olivia: What about this? (comes at me from the other direction brushing lightly against me under the water)
Me: I mean it. Stop it. Both of you.
Jon: (still laughing and clearly not helping)
Me: (seriously pissed off...gets up and makes my way out of the water braving squishy sand and secretly hating family)
I sit gingerly on the Charlie Brown Christmas tree of a chaise and start drying off. I'm mid sand brush off when the chaise nazi comes to ask, "do you plan on renting that". Still out of breath from my quick jaunt out of the gulf I am not in the mood to come up with a witty quip to answer this completely ridiculous question so I instead nod my head no and start to move our stuff. Unfortunately, it is so friggin windy that I am unable to actually lay out our beach blanket in a neat fashion and instead end up sitting on a crumpled up clothes pile looking situation.
About 20 minutes later husband and both kids come trailing out of the water. Both children have been stung by something in the water. I look up at the sky and know that God has punished both of my children for being spiteful to my sand fear and I silently promise to give to one of those charities that keeps calling my house as a sign of appreciation.
After tending to their little welts and assessing that they are not jellyfish stings therefore negating the personal humiliation that would have come with their parents peeing on them and being thankful that I didn't have to make my bladder perform on command we decide to pack up and head on down the coast. This decision came with a pout fest from Han who had her heart set on renting a jet ski. I was like...ummm, I don't think so...those freaks want $45 for 1/2hr and they can't promise flying fish like when we were in Mexico...no thank you! She didn't see that as a draw back and continued her cry fest for a good 15 minutes.
We began driving as she continued pouting. A sign in the distance that boasted a "Hurricane Katrina Clearance Sale" definitely got our curiosity peaked. The fact that they sold fudge was all Jon needed to make a u-turn and pull in for a look see. Hannah found a new thing to whine about with hermit crabs. She hung by the tank while the rest of us spent time looking around the store. There wasn't really anything special about the touristy shop and nothing that had anything to do with the storm, which was fine by me especially since I think I am definitely among the masses of people that would love to wipe the images seared into my memory about the days, weeks, months and years now following the aftermath.
Bumming around like tourist can make one pretty hungry. Liv had a request of chicken fingers. Big shocker there. We saw a Hooters in the distance and since Jon was soley responsible for planning this day I felt it only fitting that he should get his favorite chicken wings (and it met the chicken finger request) as a reward. Han launched another whine fest and all I could think was "I NEED A DRINK"!
Once inside she calmed down when she realized that she liked the chicken. Well hallefrickinlujah! Wouldn't want to put the little princess out or anything. Ugh...kids! Once the moping was done then came the questions.
Hannah: I don't get why they call this place Hooters.
Me: (trying desperately to NOT have to have this conversation) So do you want chicken wings or chicken fingers?
Hannah: No really, like, umm....like why do they call it Hooters?
Me: Do you want mozzarella sticks? Or maybe a salad? You want a salad?
Hannah: Okay, like..umm, like there is an owl on the menu and, but...umm...what does that have to do with chicken?
Me: Daddy asked if you want to try the cajun seasoning, do you want to try it?
Hannah: So why do the o's look so funny on the menu?
Me: Huh? It's really loud in here...did you say something? Where is the waitress? I need a drink.
Hannah: Ummm, mom...so why DO they call it Hooters? And why are all the girls in the pictures in bathing suits or tight shirts?
Me: OMG...where is the waitress?? I REALLY need a drink?
Hannah: Are you gonna get alcohol? I don't think you should do that.
Me: Jon you want to explain to your daughter why the place is called Hooters? Do you want to help me out here?
Jon: So do you want to get 20 or 50 wings?
Me: You're NOT helping me.
Jon: What?? What am I doing?
Hannah: Mom that drink looks like a smoothie. Can I have some? Are you gonna tell me what Hooters means?
Olivia: Can I have your lime?
Me: Seriously. Jon...help me out here.
Jon: What? What do you need?
Hannah: Does that drink have alcohol in it? Cause you just gave Olivia the lime. Why didn't you give me the lime? If it's got alcohol in it you shouldn't have given Olivia the lime. If it doesn't have alcohol in it then why can't I have half the lime. I want a lime.
Me: Seriously...Jon...help me out here (slurping longily on the straw...wishing that the alcohol would be infused directly into my veins)...JON!
Hannah: So can I have a sip? Can you get another lime? I really want a lime too.
Jon: What? What??
Hannah: Mom are you listening to me...is there alcohol in there? Can you get another lime? I really, really, REALLY want a lime...mom...mom. Mom?? Mother are you listening to me??
Me: Hooter's are boobs! There are no other limes. (flagging down waitress) I'm gonna need another shot of rum in this drink ASAP!
After dinner it was time to head home. The skies were turning dark with night and more rain approaching. We drove along the coast line before making our way back inland. Olivia announced that she REALLY needed to use the restroom so Jon found a gas station.
We all piled out of the vehicle and made our way into the gas station. Both girls were doing the pee pee dance so Jon scoped out the mens bathroom which was just a single room with a door much like the ladies room. I ushered Han in there and Liv took the ladies room. Jon and I were on door duty. Seconds turned to minutes and then the smell came.
I didn't know which child was responsible but was mildly impressed by the fact that either of them could create that much of a stink, so to speak. I knocked on the ladies room door and asked Liv if she was okay, because I needed to pee. She opened the door and I made my way in. My daughter...in all her brillance, couldn't figure out how to get the paper towel dispenser to work. I stiffled laughter as I used the bathroom. Right in my line of sight was what looked like a femine product dispenser but on closer inspection was actually a condom dispenser. This time I couldn't hold back the laughs as I realized she was following my gaze.
Olivia: What does that say?
Me: Ummm...I think it says erotic. (trying to maintain calm...I've just survived explaining Hooters to my 9 1/2 year old and now I'm face to face with condoms with my 15 year old...waitress...waitress...where the fuck is a drink when you DEFINITELY need one)
Olivia: Does erotic mean what I think it means??
Me: Yes. Yes it does. (I don't really know what her mind has decided it should mean, but anything will be better than what I have to make up and deliver at this moment)
Both of us erupt in laughter at the shear embarassment of the situation. As we make our way out of the bathroom Jon looks puzzled about what could be so funny about being in a bathroom together. I just shake my head, unwilling to revisit the conversation.
Pulling out of the gas station witty banter ensues between Jon and I.
Jon: Man that light only lasted about 3 seconds long.
Me: Hmm...must be a man.
Jon: Oh you're funny.
Me: I know.
Back at home the rain is coming down in buckets and we are cozied up on the couch watching a DVD and I am sipping on Firefly Sweet Tea vodka. If you haven't tried it...run out right now...right this very instance and buy it! It is soooooooooooo good. I honestly thought that between the beach, a little sun (between the gloomy clouds) and the fact that I had actually been up early on Sunday would find me able to fall asleep but it was a no go.
Monday came around and of course I slept way beyond the original wake up call of 11am that Jon attempted to enforce. He let me sleep in. I really must try not to be horrible to this man because more times than not he gives in and lets me sleep without major bitching sessions. Yeah, like that is gonna happen.
When I ginally did make it out of bed we sat and watched DVD's. Then it was time to clean. I HATE cleaning. I helped Jon gather up some laundry to be washed and found myself exhausted. Not really, it was more like adult ADD...I just can't stay focused when it comes to cleaning. Jon asked if I wanted to take the kitchen or the bedroom. I picked bedroom. It meant I could hide out and use my laptop. Seriously...I had MAJOR farming to do on facebook, so the cleaning was just gonna have to wait. It's all about priorities people.
Two hours later...and my farm had been plowed, planted and expanded I realized that I had absolutely nothing, in the way of cleaning, to show for my time cloistered in the bedroom. Quick thinking and feeling slightly buzzed from the 1 1/2 drinks I had consumed during my "cleaning" time made me realize that I had only one option. I went out and made a deal with the husband. I totally prostituted myself out. I figured trading sex for a pass on cleaning was a win win situation for all. Well everyone except our house and our laundry. I did however make sure my kids and the husband had clean clothes for the next day before making the deal, which I think is really responsible on my part. It's called being a good wife and mother. You're welcome family!
Thankfully my husband still finds me wildly attractive and was totally on board with my offer. I'll spare you all the intimate details save for the fact that once it was all said and done I found myself quoting a Disney movie to commentate just how good it was. So sad...so very, very sad. The only thing that eclipses using a line from the Incredibles to describe a passionate exchange is the time that Jon and I had a night out by ourselves after Hannah was born and we drove for 30 minutes listening and singing along with the CD for Bear in the Big Blue House. The worse part of that moment was when we realized we were listening and singing along was when we wouldn't turn it off until we could play our favorite song "Otter Love". Ah huh..."otter love...just can't get enough of that otter love"...oh yeah...mood setter.
The long weekend ended on a great note for us and I even got a full 6 1/2 hours of sleep. Thank you liquor and post coital bliss!! Must have been really good because the hubby forgot to set the alarm. I don't know how I was the one to wake up unassisted, but I did.
After the debacle with "letting" Hannah forget her FAME forms I was hell bent on being a better mother to the other kid. I made sure I asked if she had all her stuff for the impending school day. She just looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. Apparently the cup of coffee I made her hadn't seeped into her brain yet. For those that wonder why I not only allow my child to drink coffee but I actually make it for her...well it comes down to the pure and simple fact that she's 15 and about 1/4 of inch shorter than me. I'm hoping that plying her with mass amounts of caffeine will stunt her growth thus allowing me to still be able to say to her "watch it little girl...I'm your mother and I'm bigger than you"...if I don't stunt her now...I will lose that....FOREVER. Probably should have thought of this before mating with a guy that was well over 6 foot at age 16. Ugh...I suck at thinking ahead!
As we made our way out to the car to head to the school Olivia announced that she had made a mixed CD for the morning drives to school.
Me: What is that?
Olivia: A mixed CD.
Olivia: Well cause your music kinda sucks.
Another failure and it wasn't even 8:30am. Apparently I can't manage to make sure my kids take forms to school or pick out appropriate music to play while carting their asses everywhere and anywhere. Just when I thought I had accomplished something and started to make strides towards becoming a better person I am brought back down to the reality of my inability to do the simplest of things. Thanks kids...thanks so much for making mommy want to curl up in the fetal position and cry while watching mass amounts of Lifetime "Not Without My Daughter Who is a Street-walking Drug Dealing Baby Stealer" movie which is the only thing that makes me realize I haven't sunk to the depths of hell....yet.
But I can't go into coma mode...I have to clean. Apparently sexual favors can only buy you a day off from domestic servitude *sigh*....if only I still had the body of a 20 year old...I'd never have to clean again! Thanks again kids...for totally fucking up my life!