Mardi Gras memory (circa 2004)....

Since I currently do no have the energy needed to keep up with the carnival spirit of New Orleans on this fabulously festive day, I will instead share with you one of my favorite memories of when I didn't listen to my gut and took children into the city for a parade.  I hope you laugh almost as much as I did.  And if you don't...well, maybe what you need is a Hurricane (the Pat O'Brien's kind) some beads and a little time spent negotiating with a toddler's bladder!

Enjoy.....

Beware of unsolicted advice and the people that dispense it.....you've been warned!

Don't you love it when random people feel the need to push their agenda's, life lessons, insights into what they think you may be experiencing in the world at that moment in lane #5 of Wal-Mart on a Tuesday??

My AH-Mazing Trip to FL - Part 3 (I'm "fair"ly certain that this was fun and my meeting with you "can be my Doug")

"Must find french fries...it's my only means of survival."

And with this I bid another Christmas good night...

I'd like to say that my house is quiet right now...as the clock ticks past midnight, but Jon is snoring up a storm and just barely heard over that is the sounds of Hannah watching "Tale of Desperaux" on the flat screen in the living room.  For a moment I had to check and make sure she didn't have surround sound on because Jon's snoring usually drowns out the television I have playing in the same room so being able to hear one over the snoring, my t.v., through a closed door and down a hallway is pretty impressive.  Turns out she didn't have it on she just had it up REALLY loud.

Instead all I found when I ventured out to be the cranky mom commenting on the "too loud" television is my baby girl snuggled down with pillows and blankets.  She had asked Jon and I if she could sleep on the sofa tonight so she could watch television.  Our agreement to this question marked the four dozenth time of her proclaiming..."this is the BEST Christmas ever"!  I don't care who you are, if you are the parent of one or a dozen, those six words just melt your inner being and will make you relent even when you think you shouldn't.

Not that her sleeping on the couch is a huge deal....it's just that I don't get it.  It truly cracks me up that once again one of our kids is so excited to sleep on the couch.  I.  Just.  Don't.  Get.  It.  Have I ever fallen asleep on my couch? Yes.  Have I ever HAD to sleep on my couch? Yes again.  Would I pick my couch over my bed if I had the choice?  Hell to the no.

But my kids...LOVE sleeping on the couch.  I told Jon that I think it is because right now both of the girls don't have satellite service in their room, so the couch is the only way for them to lay and watch shows.  I think that now that they have cleared the destruction and clutter in their room allowing me to go in there and contact our cable provider to have them assist me in finding the problem that soon we won't have to deal with a kid sleeping on the couch.  I'm hoping that this theory is true because with a hubby that snores I really like the idea of having my couch clear if I wanna escape to silence to write, read or even watch a show without having to strain to hear dialogue through his mind grating snores.

But enough about that...on Christmas Eve we let Hannah open the obligatory (in her mind) gift and she got the boots that she was so gaga over.  Think the Gap commercial and the adorable little girls singing "I love my comfy sweater...I love my comfy sweater...how cute are these boots"...yep now she is the proud owner of those cute boots.  She was so happy over them that she wore them to bed.  Not just on her way to bed but actually into bed and slept in them.  I don't think I have seen her that excited about anything since....hmmmm, I'm thinkin....ummmmm...yeah, I don't know when she's ever been this excited about a clothing item.  She was excited last year over her Nintendo DS, but to my knowledge she didn't sleep with it.

That moment of adoration that follows your child opening a gift and then the beaming of enthusiasm that follows is a drug that should be bottled and kept for the moments when they leer at you and profess how you have "ruined their life" and how "you are the WORST. PARENT. EVER".

My first taste of holiday victory came yesterday when I tackled the chore of gift wrapping.  Although I've spent the past six months in a life funk I did manage to get gifts wrapped Christmas Eve morning and NOT wait until the ungodly hour of midnight so I was able to just relax and get to bed at a decent hour.  Of course we had a repeat of last year where Jon turned in and I was left awake to place the gifts.  I don't know why we play this game anymore since the "magic" of Santa has been dispelled in our home.  I'm just a teensy bit heartbroken about that but not so much so when I realize that come next year if I am not good about getting the gifts wrapped early that I won't have to stay up another few hours to make sure that the children are asleep already so I don't destroy their belief.

This morning Jon was up and at it early and then came Hannah.  I, of course, was NOT a morning person but I was coaxed out of bed with coffee and then the gift opening extravaganza commenced.  Gift after gift Hannah's eyes twinkled.  I thought she might be disappointed at the fact that the gift count this year compared to others was visibly less but I was thrilled when after the last of the gifts were unwrapped she exclaimed that she had gotten everything that she had wanted. 

Perhaps the most treasured gift of all was the fact that she had scored her beloved boots and her sister had not been given any.  Just as my heart warmed with the spirit of the season I realized that the true gift that my girls seem to relish is when they get something that they believe the other may want but didn't get.  I swear sibling rivalry and promoting jealousy between each other is the gift that just keeps on giving in their eyes.  It wasn't an intentional move on our part but her admission as to why she seemed so happy almost made Jon and I keel over with laughter.

If I ever thought that I may be able to deny that this child was mine...this cleared up any concerns.  She is my daughter through and through.

We had a little break in between when we opened gifts and when Jon's mom arrived to go have Christmas breakfast with us.  Love me some Waffle House on Christmas.  I should feel bad that people had to work and wait on us because I'm a lazy person who didn't want to cook for my family, but we made up for it by tipping the waitress close to 50% of our bill.

After Jon's mom left we just lazed around the house.  I decided to grab a quick nap because the anxiety was getting to me.  I woke up fully rested and ready to go see "Alvin & the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel".  It was...hmmm...it was a kids movie.  Not a breakthrough performance that will affect my life like say "The Blindside" but it did make me laugh and allowed me to watch Hannah laugh and smile.

We made our way out of the theater and went in search of dinner.  After driving from one end of our city to the other we settled on Chinese.  A few servings of sweet & sour chicken, pork spare ribs and fried rice later it was time to head home.  Jon unfortunately has to work Saturday and Hannah was still hoping to squeeze in a board game before the dreaded bedtime.

Hannah had picked out "the Office" trivia game for us to play.  For anyone who is a fan of this show...I highly recommend getting this game.  We are Office obsessed so we were cracking up playing the game.  Our family is one that loves trivia.  We can pass hours just asking each other question after question about movies, music, etc.

I won the game (because I'm the Monica) and Jon came in 2nd which of course only means that he was the first loser.  Hannah thought that observation was completely hysterical.  It was a simple ending to a wonderful day.  The only thing missing was Olivia.

So here I am....house semi quiet....another 364 days before we will do it all again and I wonder.....

I wonder what lays in store for me...for our family in the coming year.  I wonder if this will be the year that we will actually save money ahead of time to pay for Christmas and not have to scramble at the last minute putting off a mortgage payment or other household bills.  If we will shop early and wrap as we go, like we've said we would do for the past 12 years.  I wonder will we be celebrating the season in one home or in between two.  Will Jon and I still be a we or will it just be two single entities?  Is there a career in store for me?  And will I see more light in my life instead of the same darkness?

So much to think about in the coming days and so much to wonder about for the coming year.  I hope this holiday season finds you enjoying the simple joys such as kids and their boots or the giggle that arises when you see yourself moving towards the finish line of a game.  The world and life ahead is unsure and uncertain, it's these little serendipitous moments that keep us warm and comforted during the day to day grind.

Enjoy the wonder.  Enjoy the moment.  I know that I will....even if only for tonight.

~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

And the countdown to 10....concludes....with Part 7

Part 7: It's not the destination....it's the journey!

The beauty of motherhood is lost on those who can't seem to smell anything past the vomit that seems to get into places you never thought imaginable.  It's also lost on those who are pretty sure they would sell a kidney or lung JUST to gain a full night of uninterrupted sleep.  I was TOTALLY that person.

What am I saying....I still AM that person!  I may no longer have to sustain my children's life by feeding them from my own body, but believe me you, they are busy sucking other things out of me like sanity, my ability to retain information, my will to live at times and the capacity of my ass to reside in the lower two digit numbers.  Oh hips...where have you gone??  Oh wait...that's right, you now reside on my curvacious daughters.  Ugh!

Even with all that I've had some of my best moments being their mom.  I've also had some of my most embarrassing ones as well.

Those are the stories that Jon loves me to focus on.  He's sadistic that way.

When Hannah was approximately 3 to maybe 3 1/2 months old I had breastfed her on the couch while watching television.  It's was a leisurely Sunday afternoon and we were busy just passing the day by being completely in love with every sound and face that she was making.  It's these moments...these memories that make you want to have more children.  What happened next is what makes you think twice about motherhood and possibly how easy it may actually be to mame your spouse.

Jon:  Wow she's a little piggy.

Me:  I know.  I think this is the most she has eaten in a while.  She usually just snacks.

Jon:  I think I'd snack if I was down there too.  It'd give me more reasons to snuggle up to your boobs.

Me:  You'd have to get in line behind your infant daughter.

Jon:  Why ya gotta be so mean?

Me:  Why do YOU have to be such a pig?  I'm busy feeding your daughter and your making sexual inuendo's.

Jon:  I'm just saying...I support breastfeeding.

Me:  You're just saying that because you want me to breastfeed you.

Hannah begins to make gurgly faces as I am burping her.  It kind of looks like she's rolling her eyes at Jon's lame attempts to dig himself out of this hole but that's just my interpretation of the memory.

Finally she lets out a huge burp and follows it with a toot and then seems completely content to just sit there and check out the world.

Me:  (singing to Hannah while blowing bubbles on her tummy) I love you...mommy loves you.  Who loves you...mommy loves you.

Clearly she is digging this.

Me:  (beginning to wiggle her arms and legs in a vague dancing motion)

Jon:  You probably shouldn't do that she just ate.

Me:  I am not doing anything.  I am just moving her about.  My god she is barely moving.

Jon:  I don't think you should do that.  You always yell at me NOT to do that.  You say she'll puke.

Me:  (clearly he doesn't understand that him doing what I say and me doing what I say are two totally different things) *rolling my eyes*  Okay.

Jon walks out of the room and the coast is clear to go back to the dancing.  I proceed to move Hannah about.  She's going from slightly subdued moves to busting out her show stoppers.  I decide to end with a little airplane and a kiss....

BIG FUCKING MISTAKE

Bleeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......

Me: (gurgling sound) bay bay...

Jon: (no response...)

I can somewhat hear Jon moving around in the kitchen

Me: (gurgling sound) bay bay BAY.....

Jon:  Are you calling me?  You know that I can't hear you...speak up.

Me:  (trying desperately NOT to swallow what has been launched into my mouth by my once beloved infant daughter) bay bay...BAYYYYYY...ga ma a tow a bay b pu n ma mo....

Jon:  (sounding more than a little aggrivated)  WHAT??

Me:  (really trying not to puke while trying NOT to swallow what is being swished around in my mouth with every attempt to speak) I sa...ga ma a tow a bay b pu n ma mo......

Jon  (choirs of angels come down from heaven and sing as my husband in all his fucking brilliant retardedness who can't hear me scream from another room has now deciphered the god damn Da Vinci Code of "baby vomit speak")  I'm sorry...did you just say that you need a towel because the baby puked in your mouth?  (laughter)

Me:  BAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY......a men a...hu up n ga m a tow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jon:  (attempting NOT to piss himself, because clearly that could be used against him in this completely embarrassing moment of me choking back a mouthful of my own regurgiatated breastmilk) Hahahahahahahahahaha.....ok, ok....oh my god....oh my god...my sides hurt....ok, ok...here...give me the baby...here....oh my god...oh this is too funny...oh my god...here's the towel...

Stuff like that...10 years later...still funny.

I remember a time years later when Hannah was 3 years old and she learned how to use air quotes.

Correctly.

Neither of us know how she learned this.  It definitely wasn't something that we had done.  We aren't big air quote people...I mean really, who is??

I was coming up on a jaw surgery to treat chronic migraines, worsened by TMJ, which had completely debilitated me.  Poor Hannah had gotten very used to sitting in semi quiet, semi dim rooms with mommy by this time.  We had her in Mother's Day out programs so she wasn't a complete shut in, but there were still those few hours between when the program ended and Jon came home.

She was perched on the end of our bed watching Disney Channel.  I, as usual, had my head wrapped in a towel to shield my eyes from light and an ice pack on top for good measure.  I heard her crawling to the top of the bed towards my head so I peeled back my shroud.

Hannah:  Momma?

Me:  Yeah babe.

Hannah:  Momma...when dinner is?

Me:  (slighty out of it...trying to angle head to see the clock)  Ummm.  Soon babe...daddy will be home with it in just a little bit.  Okay?

Hannah:  Tay.  Cause we need dinner is.  It's "night time".

Me:  (slightly baffled by the air quotes, I decide to press the matter)  Hannah what do you mean by "night time" (repeating the same air quotes)

Hannah:  (cocking her head to the side and squinching her eyese at me as if I am possibly the silliest person she has met in ALL her 3 years of life) Momma..."night time" is when it "dark outside"!  (she then puts her hands in fist down on her sides as if this gesture combined with the double air quotes will of course drive her point right on home)

Very true Hannah dear.  Very true indeed.  Thankfully she did a repeat performance for Jon when he got home and we both had a good laugh at how sassy she was.

Life with girls is NOT all frills, bows and pink sparkliness.  Nope...life raising Hannah so far has been a manic mixture of Sporty Spice, Power Puff Girls and Disney Channel girls that are clearly 20 playing 10 year olds who my daughter wants more than anything to mimic.

Welcome to my hell.  The water is warm...jump on in.

Hannah can be rough and tumble like the time we had gone shopping for new jeans.  She had picked out 4 that she absolutely loved and "mom I will never ask for another thing if you only buy me THESE pants".  Oh lord...go sell your lies somewhere else sweetheart...my grandmother didn't buy those lies with my mother, my mother didn't buy those lies with me and HELLO I'm not buying them from you or your sister.

Not more than 48 hours later Hannah is on our front lawn with one of her friends playing.  Another few minutes after that she is at the door crying and the friend is trying not to laugh.  Clearly something embarrassing has befallen our daughter.  Days like this make parenting so magical.  Days like this make all the moments they make you feel like a jackleg by standing in the middle of Wal-mart screaming "you're not my mommy...I wan't my mommy" because you have denied them the Pokemon card, Power Puff Girl, Barbie, Coloring book, speck of dust...whatever...and now they are going to make you pay with public humiliation and maybe, just maybe a few dicey moments in the back of a police car explaining exactly why it is the little girl is so insistent her "real" mother lives in Pennsylvania and raises horses.  Yes...your childs embarrassment at the fact that they and not you has done something to bring said embarassment...those moments are the lottery of parenthood.

Jon:  Hannah what's the matter?

Me:  Why are you crying?  Are you hurt?

Hannah:  *sniff*

Me:  Hannah...speak up...what happened?

Hannah:  (quivering lip) *sniff...sniff*

Jon:  Hannah Michel...you have until the count of 5 to tell me what is going on.  1....2....3....

Hannah:  (bawling)....*sniff*....I....was....playing....and, umm...and I thought I'd be....ummm...I...*sniff*....I thought it would....*crying*....*sniff*...umm...I thought it would be fun....to umm...(becoming quieter)...fun to be a....(barely audible)...fun to be a dog....

Me:  Huh...you thought it would be fun to be a what?  Babe...we can't hear you?  (I clearly had heard her, but I wanted to make completely sure I heard her)

Hannah:  *sniff*...I thought it would be fun to be a dog....

Jon:  Uh...huh.  And how does that factor into the crying??

Me:  Did you get hurt?

Hannah:  *sniff*...ummm...*sniff*....not exactly

Me:  Okay then what "exactly" is the problem?

Hannah: *sniff*....I RIPPED MY PANTS....(complete hysterical bawling)

Jon:  You ripped your new pants?

Hannah:  Yyyyyeeeessssssssssss....*sniff*

Me:  (completely incredulous that this is in fact the truth)  How?  How did you rip your pants?  Show me.

Hannah:  Well...I had her (pointing the unsupecting and very uncomfortable looking friend) hook the lead for the dogs to my belt loop.....and then I ran around in a circle...playing like a dog....*sniff*.....and my pants....well...they ripped.

Jon & Me:  (stiffling laughter) (unable to stiffle laughter) (about to choke as we realize we can NO longer stiffle laughter do the only thing we can possibly do which is turn our backs on our crying child in the door)

Me:  (from over my shoulder)  Have a seat on the porch Hannah and your dad and I will be out in a moment to deal with this.

We shut the front door.  High tail it back to our bedroom.  Lock ourselves in the bathroom and bust out laughing for a good 10 minutes.

We made her wear those pants until they were highwaters.  Every....single....time she came out in them we had to fight not to pee ourselves laughing at the day she decided to play dog.

These are just a few of the moments in my 10 years raising my sweet baby girl.  I'm sure there will be many more.  I record them to use as blackmail later.

As Jon and I watched her blow out the candles on her cookie cake covered in too much make-up from the make overs they were performing on one another for the sleepover we realized that all those moments have led us to this one.  All the tears, fears, laughter, joy, pride, guilt, sleeplessness and so many more have culminated in this one little girl.

Motherhood...hell parenthood is one hell of a ride.  The admission isn't free.  The side effects are permanent and the pay is...well, it sucks.  But the moments of shear madness that lead to some of the bar none, hands down most amazing memories you will ever create while sober are worth the journey.  If you haven't jumped on this train I highly recommend it.  Plus, it's kind of like a pyramid scheme...the more of you that I get to do it, the better the prizes for me.  Get to it people...make babies.  Make memories.  Make me not be the only crazy lady.

~JP

Because humiliation is inevitable...I keep liquor on hand at all times.

So I am supposed to be folding laundry.  Like enough laundry for at least 7 households with 4 people in each home.  Where the fuck did we get all these clothes?  Jesus did we just buy new stuff cause I didn't wash the dirty stuff?  I totally think that is what happened.  I mean I remember rushing out and buying socks...oh yeah and underwear...at like midnight because I hadn't done laundry and I didn't feel like sorting, then washing, then re-sorting, then folding, then placing lovingly into piles that my kids and husband would never put away and then dog or cat (back when we had a cat) would lay on said piles or worse pee or puke on them and then the whole vicious cycle would repeat itself and we'd still have no clean socks or underwear.

I do definitely remember buying a few choice items in a manic fit at least a couple hundred times over the past few years...but seriously...this is ALOT of clothes.  It covers my couch. 

It was covering my dinner table and part of my kitchen counter but then I decided to be all "domestic goddess" and cook dinner.  But I couldn't cook dinner without going to the grocery first.  I did that after I decided that moving laundry from kitchen to living room was HUGE improvement.  But then I was like "oh shit I totally won't have all this done before Jon gets home, must create a diversion...oooh, I know...I'll cook".  I figured it was cook or offer up more sexual favors.  I was still kind of tired from the last go around and plus figured I should do something where the kids could benefit too.  I'm so giving that way.

So I went to the grocery and spent WAY too much money for our one income household.  It was all necessary items like fruit, veggies, chicken, pasta, stuff to make lunches, breakfast items, laundry detergent (for when I finally do fold laundry and it inevitably gets dirty again) and wine....yeah, can't forget the wine.  Then I remembered that Jon was going to play poker last night and I scrapped huge dinner that I planned on cooking as a diversion to the huge pile of laundry now taking up residence on out couch and coffee table. 

I decided on just pasta with veggies and chicken.  I'd do some garlic bread too.  It would just be me and the girls, so it would be fine.  Liv had been begging for this pasta for a month now so I knew that she would be happy.  Han's only concern was that there were pea's in it.  I told her to pick them out and she seemed content.

We got home from the grocery and I made Han sit at the newly cleared dinner table to start her homework.  She was more than slightly pissed that her original work space of the coffee table, planted firmly in front of flat panel t.v. was not up for use.  I reminded her that homework time was for homework and NOT getting caught up on all that has occured on Disney Channel for the last 8 hours that she hasn't been watching it.  She rolled he eyes in that over exagerated way of tweens these days and I'm pretty sure that she silently flipped me the bird from behind her backpack.

I mean I can't prove that she did that.  But then again I can't disprove that she didn't do it either.  I could have just asked her and been all "what are you doing with your hands behind your backpack"? And then she would have been "nothing...gawd...I didn't do anything".  And I would be all "did you just shoot me the bird?"  And she would totally shoot back "no-ah...gawd...why are you so paranoid?  Why do you think everyone is out to get you?  Why are you busy wasting time trying to figure out what I was doing behind my backpack when you could have folded some damn laundry?"

It really was best that I just let it go.

I set to putting away the groceries and Han set to talking up a storm.  I know where she gets it from and God do I wish that I could PLEASE stop being punished for all the times I literally set my mothers ears to bleeding from all the chattering I did.  I swear she has a quota of words that she is determined to meet on any given day and she won't stop until she hits it.  I'm not sure what that number is but when I find the fucking dial I am turning it down to a 3 digit number.

In between cleaning and putting away groceries I kept having to say "Hannah homework"....literally every 15 minutes was marked by that phrase.  Then came the homework related questions.

Hannah:  Mom, are you good at social studies?

Me: Depends.  What do you need to know?

Hannah: It's questions about the government and the Constitution.

Me:  Hmm....you can try me.  If I don't know we can just wait for your dad to get home.

Hannah:  Well are you good at math?

Me: Depends.  What do you need to know?

Hannah:  Are you good at anything?

Me:  Well, I'm making you dinner.  So yeah...I am good at that.

Hannah: This is the first time you've made dinner in awhile.

Me:  Hannah...do your homework.

When Jon got home I put him on homework duty.  They knocked it out before he left for cards.  I knocked out a bottle of wine shortly thereafter. 

I later got a text from a girlfriend of mine regarding dance team tryouts that both her daughter and Hannah will be attending this afternoon.  It had to do with the FAME forms that Hannah was so desperate to have me fill out but then left on the couch.  In the packet they requested a copy of the first 9 weeks grades.  That's all fine and great....only 1 teeny tiny problem...the kids have only been in school for 4 maybe 5 weeks.  Jacklegs.  How can we give you something we don't have??

She was just as confused as I was about it.  I told her that given the fact that they are the school and they should know that we can't possibly have this that I am sending the packet without it.  I swear if there is a problem because that is missing I am totally pulling my kid out of public school and putting her in private.  If I have to pay $10,000 a year so that the school can use common sense then so be it.  I mean...really book smarts you can learn but common sense...that shit is priceless!

By the end of the night I was drowning my sorrows of possibly being stupider than my 5th grader yet smarter than the public school she attended.  It was a bittersweet revelation.  All I could do was sit back and watch the Jon Gosselin interview on Pritime Family Secrets.  It made me laugh that it was on a show with the words "family" and "secrets" in the same sentence since outside of knowing what color underwear him or Kate are wearing that day we, as a viewing public, are pretty keen on what these two train wrecks are up to at any given moment.

I just can't feel sorry for the guy.  I can't feel sorry for Kate either.  I did however realize that in one of the clips that they played of him and her in a toy store from a few years back that I TOTALLY talk to my own Jon that way.  At times.  I vowed to stop that behavior immediately and then toasted my new found change with a shot of Firefly sweet tea vodka.

Apparently...though....I toasted one too many times cause when my Jon came home a few hours later and hadn't brought the promised McFlurry from a text he'd sent me, I went off.  Kate Gosselin style.  It was "Jon & Jess plus 2" in my bedroom.  Thankfully I fell asleep a few minutes into the tirade.  Not so good for the husbands ego, but at least we didn't have camera's, witnesses or our children involved. 

I did have to swallow my pride, choke down the dry mouth sensation that follows any night of ill fated shots and apologize.  He forgave me and thank god for that....I mean, I'm pretty sure Hannah is gonna have way more homework tonight and I just can't bare to be humiliated two nights in a row.  I don't know if I have enough liquor for that.

~JP

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

Thank you Jonas Brothers....and Goodnight!

It is now "Jonas Brother...the Day After". I can still here a persistent ringing in my ears, sounds seem muffled and when I shut my eyes I have a mini laser light show going on the backs of my eyelids. But all that aside, here's how the concert went:

Let me start by saying...if you've ever wondered to yourself or aloud exactly how many people you can fit into a stretch limousine? I would like to be the one to tell you that you can mash 4 adults, 5 teenagers, 4 tweens, one little boy and still have room for posters, purses, jackets, 12 pack of soda and some (but not nearly enough) liquor.

The Mother's (take note of the red bag that hold the "Jonas Brother Survival Kit")

Teens, Tweens & little one ~ View from outside.....

....and view from within.

It helped that we had one hell of a limo driver who took it all in stride and immediately apologized for removing the bourbon from the bar because he "thought we'd wanna keep it clean with the kids and all"...ugh Tom...there goes part of your tip sweetie. Prolly would've been bigger if ya got us a little tipsy on the way home or dropped the adults in the French Quarter and returned the kids to the address we would've scrawled out on a piece of paper with a note to our other halves that would have read:

Here's the kids. We've gone drinking. Send the limo back for us if you want us to come home.
~ The Mother's

But now I am jumping ahead of myself...and that French Quarter part is gonna be for another night and another blog entirely. So back to Jonas.

For those of us NOT in the Jonas know (which turned out to really only be myself and one other mom) we got the 4-1-1 on how the show was gonna go down from start to finish from the self proclaimed biggest Jonas Fan herself Brittany, her mom Stacy and one of Han's besties Kenzie.

Biggest Jonas Fan ~ (Her glasses say Brittany Jonas...nuff said!)

They had just arrived back in Louisiana the morning of the New Orleans show after seeing the Jo Bro's play in Houston, TX. That's a whole other state ya'll and WAY too far for a devoted mom (stop laughing) like myself to drive my kids to see anything.

How this mother was awake let alone upwardly mobile was beyond me. She credits energy drinks...I say it's the adrenaline produced by pure insanity...you decide.

The ride into the city wasn't bad at all with the exception that we packed more caffeine than liquor and with individuals under 18 out numbering those of us of the parental persuasion by a little more than 1/2 we wondered what genius thought that equation was a good idea. But before we really had time to contemplate our error we were piling out as if we were the clown car at a circus. Even the limo driver commented that he didn't remember this many getting in.

(Nina & Han strike a pose outside the arena)

Once at the arena it was time to divvy up tickets and set up a meeting spot. Since I was late coming into the concert prep I had tickets that were split between two different sections. There was 1 that was on one side of the arena and 2 that were on the opposite side. All 14 of us were not going to be sitting together.

On the ride over we had worked out a solution that would hopefully allow everyone to have the most optimal and enjoyable "Jonas Experience" possible.

It broke down as follows. Biggest Jonas fan Brittany with her baby sis Kenzie had floor seats. My oldest Liv, and my good friend Mar's oldest daughter Courtney, who have been friend since meeting in 3rd grade, would be in another section...alone.

(Liv & Court...ready to take on Jonas unsupervised...mother's lock up your sons!)

The shear thought of those two teens on the loose made us both REALLY want to drink. Six tickets were together and belonged to my other good friend, Stacy (the mother that had driven to Texas and back all in the span of 17 hours), her sister Kori, two of Kori's kids, a cousin and her boyfriend. How that poor boy managed to pick the short straw that entailed seeing a boy band with his girlfriend is still beyond me.

The final 4 tickets were left to Mar, myself and our two tween-agers, Han and Carolina, who were there to experience their first ever concert.

The tears started streaming from Nina before we even made it to our seats. Mar and I joked back and forth wondering if we should have given her an "M&M" (our code for Xanax) before getting there.

(This is a pose that Mar & I struck prior to one of our first Kenny Chesney concerts together so we made the girls do the same. And yes...Nina, on the right, is crying.)

We finally made it to our seats after being stopped by an arena attendant that worried if Nina was really okay and had to deal with the looks of several other concert goers around us that questioned if she truly was alright. Mar and I contemplated if we should have passed up the Southern Comfort tent so quickly earlier when we were looking for a restroom and our seats.

(Me & Han posing with our tickets)

We assured everyone around us and ourselves that they she was fine and settled in for the show. We were disappointed to find out when we heard on the ride over that Jordin Sparks would not be performing due to illness. There was a crowd warmer that came out in between acts and asked the tens of thousands of fans in the arena to send her well wishes with a group effort of shouting "Get Well Jordin".

With no Jordin Sparks, who I have to admit I was dissapointed that I wouldn't be seeing since I actually knew more of her songs than the Jo Bro's we saw Honor Society and the Wonder Girls. If you are anything like me then you are going..."Huh??? What??? Who???"

Honor Society from a mothers perspective of not knowing who the hell these people are and why are they deserving of a portion of the $90 per ticket I just spent to come to this show....were actually pretty good if you're willing to take the word of a thirty-something, SUV driving soccer mom.

The Wonder Girls...I wish I would have snapped a picture....reminded me of a BAD talent/dance recital. The only part I was thankful for in regards to their performance is that they only sang two songs.

In between both opening acts while they were preparing the stage there was a jumbo tron that played text messages sent by fans in the arena. I was able to get one posted that read.

Hannah & Carolina here to see their first concert ever.

Unfortunately I wasn't quick enough with the camera to capture it.

(View from the top...it was PACKED and HOT)

They were so excited that they got to be "famous" for a few seconds that they made me spend every break in between performances texting madly to try and get another message on that damn screen...it didn't happen. Damn kids...you give them a text and they expect the whole show to be about them!

I was trying to amuse myself as best possible during and in between the opening acts and I found it personally hysterical (based on pre-concert post) that a little girl sitting directly in front of us had the EXACT same hairstyle as Han.

I pointed it out to Han and she looked at me like...ugh...I told you I knew what I was talking about!

And then it was time for the boys that we, meaning the kids, had been waiting for. More tears came.....

and tiny hinney's moved to their edge of their seats....

The lights went down....the lasers came up....

....and they appear to the screams of..."OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU", "NIIIIIIICK", "JOOOOOOE", "KEEEEEEEVIN", "MARRY ME", "WEEEEEELOOOOOOVEYOU", "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD", "KILL ME NOW". Okay...that last one was the sound of the voices in my head...but I am sure you get the point.

And once again....Nina was in tears......

The Jonas Brother's took the stage to the defeaning screams of tens of thousands of hormonal bodies! It was so loud that the sound vibrated through you. We were seated in front of and next to two of the highest pitch squealers that I think I've ever had the displeasure of hearing. At one point I wondered if my eardrum had perforated or burst. Unfortunately it didn't and the ear raping went on for 2 1/2 full hours. Here's what it looked like...because I like you enough NOT to post the two video clips I took.

The outer part of the circle rotated like a record. I waited for someone to fall...it didn't happen.

I found out pretty early on that Han doesn't like loud screaming. She kept looking over her shoulder at the girls behind us and then looking at me like, "mom...aren't you gonna make them stop?" I had to keep telling her that this is a concert and unfortunately we would have to tolerate the jacklegs sitting around us. She looked very unimpressed with my perceived unwillingness to make them shut the fuck up. So she spent a good portion of the concert with her fingers in her ears. So did I. It was like a mother daughter thing.

And the concert continued. Song after song.....

When Nick Jonas came on stage with just his piano and sang "Black Keys" and talked about diabetes you could almost hear the wave of girls crying. He has a line where he says, "and I asked the doctor would I die?" I swear to you it was as if someone got up on that stage and held a gun to the kids head. All around us were fans sobbing. I was like "umm hello...he's perfectly fine jackasses. He's on the stage before your very eyes singing." All Mar and I could do was roll our eyes and sit back and watch.

(Nick singing "Black Keys")

I do have to admit this one thing...the amount of work that must have gone into creating the lights and technical aspect of this show was phenominal. I was highly impressed with all the little and big things that went on to create a visual wonderland. From lighting, raised platforms, rain, fog, lasers, a trampoline that went into the middle section of the middle stage and finally to showering the fans with foam...it was impressive.

And then finally...mercifully they descended into the hole in the stage.

Stupid me though...I forgot that they would come back for an encore. Apparently I wasn't the only one that forgot this was a possibility because some parents hopped up out of their seats as if their asses had been lit on fire the second the lights dimmed and plotted their escape. You could hear cries in the dark of the fans that knew they would be back and of the fans that were being dragged out by their parents. And then just like a horror film...."they're baaaaaaaaaaaack"....

Then their closing song, "Burning Up" came on........

.....and it was over.

Han clasped her hands tightly over her ears as the crowd once again roared. I did a happy dance in my seat as I realized I had just survived my first concert with my kids.

Will I do it again??? Ummm, maybe. Will I do another Jonas concert?? NO.

We made our way out of the arena with the masses. The teenagers that we had let sit on their own had made it back to the limo without incident and within 15 minutes the whole menagerie was present and accounted for. We sat back in the limo and enjoyed the ride home.

Tonight...a full 24 hours later I asked Han if she had a good time. She cocks her head to the side and says, "mom, it was the best. I had wished and hoped to go and see the Jonas Brothers and now I can check that off my list."

It's really all a mom can ask for. Well, that and for my hearing to return.

~JP