My AH-mazing Trip to FL: Part 4 (the part where I explain driving 635 miles away from Mardi Gras to attend Mardi Gras and oh, yeah...the goodbye's)

"I love that your idea of morning and my idea of morning are the EXACT same thing."

My AH-Mazing FL Trip - Part 1 (aka...the first 24hrs)

Life is crazy sometimes.  My life, well it is crazy all the time.  There are 24hrs in a day...7 days in a week and 365 days in a year...all of them, for me...for the most part are C-R-A-Z-Y!  Not "crazy busy" or "crazy hectic" but "holy shit is this really happening right now" kind of craziness.

So what is one to do when life is just coming down on ya and you need to get your bearings??  Well, if you're me...you plan a trip back home.  I had gone back and forth with the idea for awhile but then the opportunity presented itself along with free lodging and a LONG break from the new job (God bless you Louisiana and your Mardi Gras lovin self) so it was time to hit the road, literally, and make the drive down to my hometown of Clearwater, FL.

"Who packs the night before and forgets their friggin camera???"

Tis the season for giving...

I have learned to keep expectations low.  Maybe, for some of you that seems like a cop out.  For me it is a survival mechanism.  Much like my comfy bed and security bound comforter...low expectations make it possible for me to survive.  Everyday brings with it really only 3 expectations.

#1 Shower.

#2 Don't kill self.

#3 Don't harm children.

Usually I only make #'s 2 and 3.  But with medication and severe ridicule from family members and friends I am bound to make all 3 at least 5 out of 7 days of the week.  Jon refers to these achievements as baby steps.  Much like his asking me to "please clear the laundry from off of the kitchen table" earlier this week was met not with it being folded but instead shuttled into our eldest daughter (who happens to be visiting her father for the Christmas holiday) bedroom.

Ummm...I put this in the win column because he left in the morning and there was clothing in the kitchen and he came home in the evening and there was....ta da....no clothing in the kitchen.  Apparently I lapsed on the part where he actually expected the clothing to get folded and ready to be put away by it's rightful owners.  Whoopsie!

As much as I give Jon a hard time for his past indiscretions I cannot seem to properly put into words how it is that he manages to stay so calm with such a deeply depressed spouse.  He leaves and I'm asleep.  He comes home and I'm asleep.

He'll poke a head in the bedroom from time to time and asks if I've eaten.  Asks if I need anything.  Asks if I want to talk.  He says that since I've tried to stand by him in his short coming's and the fact that one day he is COMPLETELY certain that I am going to have to care for him and wipe his ass (what an impressive and heartwarming picture to create in one's mind)...he says that because of this and his love for me he just keeps pushing along.

The kids try to wrap their minds around it all and even though I know they would give just about anything (well except their cell phones, computer, Nintendo DS, time with friends and possibly cable) to have their mom up and participating in the daily goings on of their life.  I live for the little moments that the clouds of depression clears and I get a glimpse of what our life used to be like all of the time.


Today and tonight was one of those glimpses into how our life used to be everyday.  Of course it wasn't a continual stream of feeling okay.  It never really is anymore.  I'll get moments when I am okay and then moments when I have to tuck away into the bedroom because the anxiety becomes so high that it literally feels as though it will grate apart my head.  Jon has learned the signs and takes over parenting if I am in the middle of doing something with the kids.

But for the most part....today was a good day.  One that defied low expectations but was made even sweeter because I really had no expectation of it at all.

I wrapped gifts and Jon cleaned.  Yes...ladies...my husband cleans.  Why I bitch?  Who the hell knows.

Later we cooked dinner together.  Some gorgeous pork tenderloin that I had been marinating with BBQ sauce, orange juice, honey and seasonings.  It's super good and makes the juiciest meat!  While Jon grilled I made both mashed potatos for dinner and potato soup for whenever.  It was the normal rhythm of a house and it felt both foreign and comfortable in the same moment.

Feeling the opportunity to keep things light and make me laugh Jon took a hair piece that we had purchased to pretty much torture Penny with and while I diced onions and got ingredients for dinner he waited for the absolute opportune second to catch me off guard and scare the piss out of me.

I was in the fridge getting butter and just as I was about the close the door I heard him scream out, "oh my god...noooo"...I peeked up just in time to see something dark and furry flying at my head.  I screamed like a little school girl.  Threw down the butter that was in my hand and flew across the kitchen while batting my aledged assailant to the ground.

Turns out the "attacker" was none other than the fake hair piece and the next sound I heard was the cackling of Jon and Hannah as they celebrated the fact that their little prank had gotten me so good.  All I could do was accept defeat and make my way to the bathroom because as with any good joke at my expense...I now had to pee.  Thankfully I didn't pee in my pants...but it was a close one...a very, very...VERY close one.

After dinner was done and cleaned up we preheated the oven for the ceremonial making of the Christmas cookies.  That was going to be all Jon and Hannah because once again the anxiousness was taking hold and it was time to excuse myself for a cooling off period.  This consist of going to the bedroom and usually sitting in the quiet.  Sometimes I have to actually go and take a shower to take my mind off the anxious thoughts.  I used to go and run or walk when I became anxious but found that it actually prolonged the anxiety.  Sucky find because for a while there it was a GREAT way to get in shape.  Figure 6 or 7 anxiety attacks a day...a month or so later I'm down close to 10lbs.

Thankfully this one was quick lived and I was back in the mix within a thirty minutes.  Just in time to torture the dogs and catch a few pics of Jon and Hannah's Christmas crowns.

So here is my gift to you my readers...a few pics to show you how our Christmas Eve was spent.

Yep ladies...he's mine...ALL mine!

Jon and our baby girl.  You'd think the crowns were her idea...NOPE...it was all him!

The great thing about being a man in a house full of girls...LOTS of kisses!

Usually she just leaves a note...this year, she means business! In case you can't read it, the cookie says "Dear Santa, I want it all.  If that isn't possible then leave the cookie and no on gets hurt.  Love, Hannah."

And because no holiday season would be complete without my dogs....

....remember...if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all because Karma is a real bitch....

Merry Christmas everyone!!

Love, Hugs and Kisses,

~JP

 

It was positively CornMaizing....

I've lived here in Louisiana for a little over 7 years now.  In all that time, although I've been invited and heard it mentioned every year about this time, I had never made it out to the Hickory Corn Maze.  I can now not only check that off my list, but also check off conquering my fear of evil eyed children coming out of the rows of corn in order to kill me with sickles (thank you Children of the Corn).

I don't know that I was actually invited along this time.  Hannah was for sure invited, I think I then invited myself when I heard that my friend was insane enough to not only let my daughter come but also allow each of her other two children have a friend thus making the ratio 6 to 1.  Thus putting my friend at horrendous odds.  She obliged whether it be for the company or for safety reasons.

We made the ride out to the maze and along the way realized that we better stop to get flashlights lest we lead 6 kids (two of which are 5 yr olds) into a dark cornfield.  Sadly this thought didn't occur to us while we were at home and could take the flashlights that we own and would cost us NOTHING.  Nope.  We were two complete and total jackasses and made it almost 1/2 way there before making this stunning realization...it was almost 5p, it gets dark around 5:15p...we will be traipsing through a darkened maze....nah, we don't need lights!

We pulled into a Dollar General and made a beeline (after getting mumbled directions) to the "hardwares section".  Section, to me, would denote that this was an area...in reality it was maybe half an aisle long.  There sat our gleaming torches for just $1 a piece.  We snagged 4 for the group then headed to the front to grab batteries. 

My friend may have rationalized that we needed these flashlights for "safety" reasons like tripping or falling, but me?  I saw things in a different light, per say.  Maybe no one else cared about being in the dark and spooky cornfield but I know for a fact that I had to fight the urge to buy 5 flashlights, just for myself, and a role of duct tape.  NO the duct tape was not for the childrens mouths although in retrospect that would have been an amazing idea for the 5yr olds...it would have been to secure 3 of the 5 flashlights to the following areas, one on each foot and one to my head like those coal miner hard hats.  Then of course the other two would have been for my hands.  Did I mention my huge slight phobia of corn fields and the demonic children, particularly the one named Malchiah from Children of the Corn?  Did I??  DID I???


But I put on my big girl panties and only bought my alotted two.

Deep breath.   Ahhhhhh.......

I may have taken my calming breath too soon because when we made it to the front of the shoe box sized store we found that although there were two able bodied individuals up front with two cash registers, there was only one woman working.  When I turned to look at my friend I noticed that although we were third in line we weren't last.  The line was stretching down the stationery section aisle and people were looking pissed!

At that very instant I felt that being in the car with 6 moody kids was better than being in here.  My friend and I just kept exchanging glances with one another and I kept looking outside to see if A) any of the kids had jumped ship from the SUV left idling in the parking lot or B) was it rocking back and forth to the point that we may need to worry that someone was being attacked by one of the other occupants of the vehicle. No one jumped out or was maimed in our absence although I cannot be sure as to how the clerks in the store fared once we had purchased our items and left the remaining long line of customers. 

A good 20 minutes later we were making our way back out to the parking lot.  We made a mental note that we would allow one flashlight per pairing.  One for the moms, one for the 5yr olds (which was sure to start an argument), one for the teenagers and finally one for the middle kids.    We made sure that the flashlights were all the same color for the kids to prevent blood shed.  Our flashlight was a different color and would have gone completely unnoticed as such if we had been just a tad bit quicker when installing the batteries.  As we tried to get the flashlights ready I revisted the idea of the duct tape when the 5 yr olds became obsessed with the idea of holding the flashlights and kept asking over and over and OVER to "just hold em, not use em...just hold em".

Another 10 minutes of driving and we were at the corn field.  We made our way down the winding  driveway and into a clearing with the cornfield set back a ways.  There was no one there and no lights.  What the hell??  It looked closed.  Immediately the kids started asking if they could get out.  My friend and I just stared blankly at one another.  Again...what the hell??  I picked up my Crackberry and quickly found the website for the corn maze.  Right on the first page of the website it listed the dates and the times.  Only one problem.  The thing opened at 6p and it was currently 5:07p.  We would either need to spend 53 grueling minutes (yeah...7 minutes less than an hour) in a vehicle with the kids -OR- attempt to come back another time before it was set to close for the season.

We weighed our options, with each ticking second which happened to feel like minutes but sadly were not.

The Pro's to staying....

1) We had already driven out here.
2) We had the flashlights.
3) The kids each had a friend with them.
4) This would really be the only time we could do it.

The Con's to staying...

1) Shit seriously making this list only ate up like 1.5 minutes...OMG, that means like another 51 1/2 more minutes of sitting in this vehicle with these kids???

We went with the pro's list and then after waiting in the car for another 20 minutes, let the kids out to tear up the place.  That bought us another 10 to 15 minutes and the final 15 minutes was spent telling them (mainly the 5yr olds) to stop running and slamming themselves into the ticketing building and the port-o-potty and each other and "for the love of God put down that stick before someone seriously gets hurt".

Mercifully 6p came and we bought our tickets.  We had already squashed the dreams of the tweens who had wanted to go through the maze unaided by saying "that we should all stay together it will go quicker".  Apparently the ticket taker didn't know this because one of her first questions after asking if this was our first time at the maze was to ask if we would like to go in separate groups to see who could make it through the fastest.  The tween girls bout came out of the their clothes thinking that this meant that they could go alone.  Thankfully we didn't have to be huge meanies because then she clarified that they would need to be accompanied by someone 16 yrs or older.  Luckily, we had two of those so after some quick deciding we chose to let the teens take the tweens and that left us sporting the little ones.

We all had to stand and listen to the rules of the corn maze before we could enter.  These are the ones that I can remember:

1) There is no screaming or trying to scare people while in the maze. (I liked this rule because I felt it would keep me safe from some jackleg trying to reenact Children of the Corn)

2) If you ever get lost or need help just call out "corn cop" and someone will come and assist you.

3) There is no use of fowl language used inside the corn maze, remember the corn have ears so they are always listening. (I'm not making this shit up...these were her EXACT words)


The teens with tweens in tow made their way into the maze first.  I had to keep myself from doing the happy dance because on the upside for me, 5yr olds tire quickly of holding things like flashlights thus allowing adults to carry them and therefore decreasing the chance of sickle carrying demon children from jumping out of the cornstalks to slay me.  Just a thought.

We made our way into the maze and I gotta be real honest within the first 30 seconds I thought to myself "what the fuck are you doing here this is downright creepy"...but then one of the little ones started talking about poop and I figured no scary movie I've ever seen has the mom dying while trying to dissuade a child from talking about bodily functions.  Figured I was safe so I relaxed and enjoyed the trek.  And oh what a trek it was.  We were so turned around that within 15 minutes of entering we were right back at the entrance.  The lady that took our tickets said that if you ever get to a point where you need help just call out "corn cop" and someone will come to help you.  I foolishly thought that these individuals would announce themselves.   Feeling completely overwhelmed and going in what we believed to be circles we called out for what we deemed to be our corn savior the almighty "corn cop".  That son of a bitch came out of no where through the corn and I am pretty sure I peed my pants a bit.

I told my friend that the next time we think about calling out for one of those fuckers I need to prepare my bladder.

We finally began to move and make our way to the different points on our map.  This years maze was  the phrase "We Stand Up For Freedom".  We began in the "M" of Freedom and began to get truly lost around what we believed to be on of the "E's" but were then corrected by the first "corn cop" who said we had made it to the "F".  By the time we made it to the half way point we'd been scared half to death by a shadowy "corn cop" who seemed to appear and reappear as if out of thin air.  I disaffectionately named this person Jedidiah because it sounded creepy just like him and we all agreed we didn't like him one bit.  We felt victorious that we had made it halfway through without any major incident of demonic sickle wielding children or accidents with the two boys we were coraling.  We purchased some drinks and momentarily contemplated leaving the maze but figured we made it half way, why not finish it.

About 10 minutes later we were cursing ourselves, albeit silently so as not to be thrown out of the maze.  The friend that my friends little boy had chosen to bring along as his companion for the outing began to describe in detail how he hadn't been feeling well earlier that day and was punctuating his story by farting every so often and burping in between that.  I don't know how I had gone from leader to caboose but this was the most unfortunate timing for the switch.  Another 20 minutes and we, well mostly me, had given up the silent cursing for actual audible commentary of our completely lost status.  We called out for a "corn cop" who told us we were close to be on the right track to finding our way out.

We bought what he was selling about how we were at a certain point on the map and this is how we should hold the map and blah, blah, blah another 15 minutes or so and should be out.  Then he went off to help a crying child that was part of another group and once again we were in the corn...lost...and frustrated.  We tried to figure out where we were on the map.  No dice.  The kids were getting tired.  Hell we were getting tired.  We called the teen and tween group and swore that we could hear their voices just a few rows over.  They were of no help to us.  The boys complained more of being tired and we continued to march them up this row and arrow that corner and "just down here" and "hey I think I see a light over there" and finally we had had it.  We began a somber "corn cop...oh, corn cop".  Then it began to sound desperate "corn cop...we need you...please, corn cop".  The boys even chimed in a time or two.

I then contemplated getting completely belligerent in an attempt at being escorted out of the maze, but decided that wouldn't be a good example for the boys.  But a few seconds later both my friend and I were feeling desperate and I told the boys that if the "flippin corn cop doesn't hurry up and get his butt out here  I am gonna make one or both of you cry so we could get some speedy help like that other crying child from earlier".  Amazing what the treat of child abuse can do for you...we had a corn cop on us like white on rice.

He asked, ever so politely, if we would like him to show us where we were on the map so we could finish alone.  We emphatically and in unison answered NO we just wanted to get out.  I have to admit the poor guy was super nice and even took us to some of the few last clues on our map and let the boys do them.  One was saying your ABC's while alternating your arms in an up and down position with every other letter.  For instance you started with your hands in the air for A then down for B and so on.  Wherever you landed determined whether you went left of right.  The boys started out in sync and then lost it around F which made me laugh and make a joke about "this is what we get for sending them to public school" to which our guide said he was homes schooled.  Way to bring on the creepy Children of the Corn feeling dude!

Another 10 minutes and we were free of the corn.  The boys were ecstatic, but I think we were happier.  We waited for a few minutes for the other kids but then we saw them coming from the car and realized they had finished WAY before us.  As we loaded up the kids we commented on how much fun this turned out to be and as we made our way back out onto the road and on our way home we looked back to catch some of the kids sleeping in the back seat clutching the corn they had gotten as a souvenir. 

Not every night that you choose to have 6 kids can turn out so well, but we had to admit it was pretty fun.  The best part was that after traipsing them here, there and everywhere through a cornfield for 2 hours they would sleep like logs and truly that is the most precious thing of all.

I slept pretty good myself and I didn't have one nightmare of a sickle wielding demon child although I couldn't seem to get the smell of the one little one's farts from my nostril.  Kids...they are just plain cornmaizing!

~JP

In search of new....

Just recently my husband and I "celebrated" 12 years of being together as a couple.  And by "celebrate" I mean that we had it pointed out to us by a friend of ours that it just so happened to be that day and so we kissed and toasted with the drinks we had been sipping on for the past two hours.  This is what our relationship has come to.  We are reduced to having our milestones pointed out to us by others.  It's really pathetic if you ask me.

Another occurance was when I was driving my oldest daughter home from theater practice and she was dancing in the car to the mixed cd that she had made me in an attempt to prove that I "truly have lame taste in music".  I stated how I really, really, REALLY am in need of a night out dancing.  She looked sideways at me and said..."yeah, me too".  I laughed and said non chalantly how in just over 3 years I can take her to 18 & up clubs and we can go dancing.  She gave me that look of sheer terror and death of embarassment that would ensue if I was to truly attempt this most heinous of ideas.

Before I could even elaborate on this topic she said the most hurtful thing outside of telling me that I shouldn't be wearing these pants because YES they do truly make your ass look HUGE!  She said..."in 3 years...you'll be like....ya know....O-L-D!"  I tried hard not to slam on the brakes or slam her head into the dashboard.  I proceeded to ask her how old she actually thought I was.  She did that long hard pause that kids that fear they may never see a penny of allowance or be told yes they can do or have something that they want ever, ever....EVER again if they answer this question wrong.

People....in 3 years I will only be 35!  What the shit?!?  I am NOT old.  I am NOT OLD!  Jesus...most people are just now getting started on their childbearing years and me.  I mean, us.  Jon and I...we are at the half way point.  This time in 10 years we will be the proud parents of two full fledge adults.  This time in 10 years I will only be 42...so take that and suck on it!

But these two events coupled with some other things that have occured over the past few days, weeks, months....year...have made me realize that it's time to go in search of the newness again.  I've begun to make a list.  Jon teases me about these list.  Mainly because I write them and then when I mess up I rewrite them.  But I tend to keep the messy one just in case I forget to carry over some items and then I end up with two list.  Two lists that usually never end up finished.  I get accused of that a lot and rightfully so because I am SO not a start to finish kind of girl.  I'm more of a get really excited about the start and lose all interest in the finish part.  About the only things that I stay COMPLETELY interested in from start to finish are FarmVille, this season of Fringe and having sex with my husband.  Not necessarily in that particular order.  Although I have said the words "just let me check my crops" when Jon has given me that look of "let's get it on"!

Again...perfect example why it is time to find the new again.  It's time to get back in tune with my body and to actually locate that body underneath all the layers of baby fat from the last baby (10 years ago) and those pints of Hagaan Daaz that have found their way maliciously into my mouth at 2am when I am depressed as all hell about the state of my life and the unhappiness that I have found myself in.  It's just time. 

For the past few days I've felt this overwhelming antsy feeling.  This urge to just throw on my shoes and run.  Run hard.  Run fast.  Run far.  Probably wouldn't be a great idea if I actually allowed it to come to fruition.  I'm pretty sure that I would make it to the end of my street and my family would find me dead or at least unconscious on the ground beneath the stop sign.  Since running...and I must admit that every time I say, think or type that word...running...all I can think of is Forrest Gump saying it.  "And I started running." 

Anyways...since running is out of the question at this particular juncture I decided to have a little conversation with my inner self.  At a little after midnight when all the house was quiet I pulled myself into first position (rockin the ballet), closed my eyes and just calmly explained that it's time to take back my life and ALL the things that I used to be so passionate about. 

It's gonna be a tall order...a slow process...but a challenge that I must take on.  For my sanity.  For my self.  I will not let another milestone go by uncelebrated or at least unremembered and I certainly will not allow my teenager or tweenager make me feel old.  It's up to me to preserve the new.  Game on bitches...game on!

Failure is only kid deep....

So the 3 day weekend is over for you working folk.  For me...it's just a continuation...cause I no worky!  But I must say I was very proud of myself because when the alarm clock that husband clearly forgot to set didn't go off this morning to alert the hubby that he needed to go out and earn a good day's pay I was the conquering hero that got him up and out the door on time.  Yea me!!  Then I continued the fabulous streak by downing a cup of coffee and filling out FAME forms only to realize that tween left them on corner of sofa instead of putting them in backpack to tote off to school as whined about night prior when she realized we (meaning both hubbster and I were shitty parents) hadn't taken the time to lovingly fill them out the moment we received them on Friday even though school was out until today.  But whatever! 

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.

Jon: Seriously?

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.

Me:  Hmmm...okay...why?

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!

~JP