Its New Years eve and here I am getting ready to PARTY!!! I've got the champange, the jello shots. I'm dressed in my funky nightime gear. getting ready to dance and to p-a-r-t-y! Wee its all systems go!!!!....
or...
I am at my parents house watching Shrek dressed in my pj's having eaten chinese food and getting ready to go to bed at 9:35
you decide
either way Happy New Year!!!
This is my last day of work for the next 11 days. While I love time off I am a little scared of spending the next 11 days ALONE WITH MY KIDS!!!!!!!! It is very frightening and I'm not sure that we will all survive but I have created a list of few games to help get me through the next week and a half. Here is the list of Suzie's Games for the Holiday Break:
Get Mommy the Jug of Wine
Who can sleep the longest?
Find the TV remote
Scruby scrub scrub the tub
Being really really quiet is fun
Lets pretend to be mommy and watch all her tv shows (without whining about wanting to watch cartoons)
Shake, Shake, Shake, mommies martinis
Hide and seek for Mommy (who has really left the apartment and is sleeping in the hallway)
The first one to shriek or whine is a rotten egg
and my favorite
Lets all go to Grandmas house!
Ive had many people ask me to describe a little bit about the Jewish Holidays and since its Hanukkah I thought I'd give it a go. I have lots of links if you want more information or recipes. So here it is Hanukkah in the Up The Hill Backward House:
Hanukkah is a holiday that takes place at night but in our house hold it goes on all day long. It starts out like this:
B if you don't unzip that suitcase and let Baby S out of there we are not having Hanukkah tonight!
B if you keep shrieking until Mommies ears bleed there will be no presents! Not one! No way! No Hanukkah for you!!
B that's! It I'm calling Daddy its all off!!! Now take that candle out of your sisters nose or that is really it! No Hanukkah and I mean it!!!!
When the evening finally rolls around everyone gets very excited. We put the candles in the menorah (The Hanukkah candle holder) and we let B choose the colors. B passes out the kepas (prayer caps) his has superman on it. I take out the family Siddur (prayer book) I received at my Bat Mitzvah from my Uncle Sauly. It looks very old and mysterious it had a metal cover and is covered in plastic jewels. We use the top candle to light the others B helps. I start the prayers. And as I begin we all take a breath... as B starts singing Christmas carols at the top of his lunges.
Threats begin again.
We settle down.
The candles are lit. We begin singing and dancing.
And then the cry heard religiously every night PRESENTS!!!! Present Time!!!!
Each child gets one present. Usually it is something small. Hanukkah presents are not big things just small little toys and traditionally the kids get money called gelt. We give them the chocolate kind and we only do that one night as my kids are scary on sugar.
We eat lots of fried food to celebrate the oil lasting in the temple for 8 nights. Ahh the Jews and our love of high cholesterol foods. We eat latkes (potato pancakes) and schnitzel (fried chicken cutlets) and end with sufganiot (jelly donuts). We also only do that one night as I am scary on fried foods.
Then its off to bed to begin saving up threats for another day.
This morning I decided I could no longer go outside with my coat unbuttoned. Due to my expanding waistline I was unable to warmly affix the coat to my body and since the temperature had fallen to a balmy -10 I thought buttoning the coat might be a necessity today.
The only way to accomplish buttoning my coat was to move the buttons. This would involve (gasp) sewing! Bravely facing the unknown I took out my needle and thread and began by threading the needle.
I noticed as I did this that the hole had gotten mysteriously smaller than it had been the last time I used it. In fact it was no longer a hole but a pore. An tiny itsty bitsy pore that dared me to try to put some thread though it. I squared my shoulders and decided to face the task head on. No microscopic needle hole was going to do me in! I cut the thread like a pro sucked on the end and began threading.
I held the needle as far away from me as I could hoping to use my telephoto sight to thread the needle. I pushed it through and success! I was not old! I was not loosing my sight! I was young and spry! I had done it in just one try!
Then I moved the needle and realized I was not the owner of a brand new threaded needle. I had threaded the air and that would not help move my buttons.
I went to the bathroom and turned on the bright lights. This was the kind of light that showed every blemish every ounce of cellulite. It was mean light and today it was my friend.
I held the needle and cut the thread again. This time I would not fail. I pushed and shoved and squinted and twisted but even in the bathrooms harsh light I could see that needle was no closer to being threaded than Elmo was to being the voice over for Darth Vader in Star War 105.
Finally I realized there was no choice. It was time to get out the big guns. My Granny glasses. The kind that costs $10 from the drugstore and fit in their own cardboard flowered carrying case. A real fashion statement. I stood in the bright light mean light looking like Old Mother Hubbard. Holding that needle out to the end of my arm dressed in my granny glasses bathed in the unforgiving bathroom glow. I battled and I grunted and a danced around but finally. It was done. The needle was threaded and I was victorious.
I looked up and both my kids were looking at me silently. I thought I could see pity in their eyes as they quietly shook their heads.
Get the walker out kiddies Granny's home.
I know it is not right to create a list about why my coffee maker is better than my husband. Its not politically, morally or socially correct. In fact only a real sicko would create a list stating why their coffee maker was far superior to the father of her two children. Bad Suzie bad! So with that in mind:
10 Reasons Why My Coffee Maker is Better Than My Husband:
Dear Little S:
I'm writing this letter to let you know about a few things that have been on my mind of late. I am your Mommy and love you so I feel its my duty to be up front about an issue that needs discussion.
First off let me start with a few positive points. Thank you so much for not calling me Daddy anymore. I really appreciate it. Mama is much better. And I gotta tell you I love the wet, snotty, open mouth kisses you give more than chocolate.
While I am very impressed with your developmental leaps I do have an issue that needs to be addressed.
Your interest in the toilet is admirable. I'm hopeful it may lead to early potty training and that is great but I must point out a reoccurring social fopah you have been discovered doing on multiple occasions. Believe me I say this because I love you and want what's best for you.
Please stop sticking your hand in the toilet after your brother has gone pee pee.
Please stop splashing around in the pee pee toilet water.
And for goodness sake please please do not do a full hand lick after the pee pee potty play.
Thank you for your attention in this matter.
Love
Your Mommy
Let me begin this story by telling you I am not normally an angry person. I can take a lot before I blow. But sometimes someone so annoying and so perky hits me like silk wrapped nails on a black board. Sometimes someone comes around who is so horrible and so caustic I would rather be locked in a small car with two kids who suffer form extreme motion sickness and recurring gas.
This is the story of one of those people. Let call her
CINDY
My story begins in the gym. As you know I gained about 15 pounds on vacation. So I was working out as hard as humanly possible without breaking a real sweat after all this was my lunch hour I needed to go back to work and no one likes a sweaty office pal.
I was reading OK magazine and I had a people tucked away for later so I could find out why Tom Cruise really jumped on that couch when suddenly there she was
Hi!
I looked down from my stair master and she was CINDY. A 20 year old skinny perky beast with happy little boobies and a scary over sized smile. She was pure evil and I knew it. CINDY was trouble.
Hi I'm Cindy It said again have you had your personal training session yet this year?
I looked down at her perfectly bouncy hair and her sassy little smile and tried not to scream in terror. I tired to ignore her pretending to care about Posh Spice's new not ever eating diet but I could feel her eyes burning into my skull.
Hi Cindy. I said trying not to show it my fear. I've heard they can smell fear from a mile away. I'm not really into that kind of thing. I have two small kids and this is the only time I have to myself to read and think but thanks.
I opened my OK magazine and tried to concentrate on Britney addiction to vanilla lattes while hoping some brave knight would appear and save me from the CINDY. But I had no such luck she was on the loose and I was face to face with the beast.
Hi! She squeaked again. You know working out with a personal trainer could really help you control some of those problem areas.
The terror was overwhelming. Please I thought go away CINDY go away!
Instead I took a deep breath and summoned my courage
Cindy. I'm not trying to be rude but I really look to forward to having a little peace and quiet at the gym. Thanks but I'm OK.
I could feel Cindy's eyes traveling over my body. I knew she was sizing me up maybe thinking how I would taste with a little holindaise sauce.
But have you met your personal work out and weight goals this year?
And that was it. CINDY may have been one scary 20 year old perky perfectly conditioned personal training demon. But I was an almost forty year old Mommy of two. I think I could take her if I had to. The anger broke free and the Mommy monster was on the loose.
Listen CINDY I am about 30 pounds over weight I have the neck the size of a tree trunk. I said spitting my venom in her direction I am still fighting baby weight and I fit into nothing. But the question is do I want to work out with you. You 20 year old teeny tiny person who is named CINDY and wont leave me alone in the gym? No CINDY I don't so please back away CINDY before I blow a big fat gasket and roll you in sugar and eat you as a snack.
She took a deep breath smiled. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
OK but if you change your mind look for me. The names CINDY.
I'm still shaking
I'm back! Did you miss me?
I had a great trip. I'm relaxed. I'm tan. Ive gained about 15 pounds.
So here are my trips highlights:
Upon reaching the airport we noticed the bag contained the children's clothes were no longer with us. Yes we had left the kids suitcase at home. After a little tiff in the security line between hubby and I we relaxed and resigned ourselves to a week of naked dirty kids.
Spending $130 dollars at Wallmart in FA so we would not have a week of said dirty, naked kids. (By the way I love Wallmart. We don't have them here in NYC. Next Ill be discovering chick a fil a.)
B freezing during his bunks performance of a hip hop show where had to be removed from the stage. (This is a step up from the last trip where he fell off the stage)
S getting the entire top row of her teeth suddenly at 3am one evening.
Getting food poising Saturday night and heaving my guts up.
But the question remains did I enjoy myself?
Am I relaxed?
Was it fun?
Was it worth getting a second job and going into debt to pay for this trip?
Yes yes yes yes yes!!!
I am not here. I am on vacation until Monday. I have a lot of hopes for this vacation.
I want to reconnect with my kids
reconnect with my hubby
eat some good food
maybe have a few cockatils
let loose a little
But mostly I want to relax
I'm going away tomorrow for a whole week. I am so excited. I will miss you all but this has been a pretty intense year and a break sounds so good.
I am excited but still the little nagging travel worry bug is flying around my head whispering tales of plane trouble, crying babies and just plain travel worry.
I used to be a world traveler. I went to Egypt Israel, Zambia and Spain (among others) and all with a small backpack. I would pack an hour before I got a taxi to the airport. I would have no hotel booked for my arrival. I would land with a guide book and a vague idea of what I would be doing.
I remember riding a bus in Turkey with no idea which direction I was going in with no one who spoke English and a guide book that included the phrase I didn't do it please call the American Embassy (an important phrase indeed).
I remember landing in Egypt and realizing I had forgotten to pack underwear. Trying to buy panties in a Muslim country was an experience. I tracked all around Cairo's bazaars with a little piece of paper that read I have no panties in Egyptian written by the hotel desk clerk who got a good laugh of my predicament.
Now every facet of my trip is planned. I know which room Ill be in. Which deck chair I will use. How many feet it is from the bar to my room.
I pack lots of extra underwear and plenty of clean socks. I could open my own pantie bazaar for the packing impaired.
My guide books need only include the phrases Can I have another mud slide please and which way to the pool?
And yet that worry bug is still a flying. Crazy aint it?
This morning I was taking my daily 5:30am shower. I get early so I have a little time alone. As I stepped out of the shower I saw five little fingers pressed under the door. They wiggled a greeting and slipped away. I opened the door to find B laying with his arms stretched above his head face down on the floor waiting patently for me to emerge. I invited him in the bathroom and he began to talk.
Mommy why do you take showers and not baths? I dreamt I saw Captain America and he was flying and he said Hi B and I said Hi Captain America.......
He chatted away as I got dressed
Mommy why do dinosaurs not be alive anymore? Why do they have big big poops not little poops like I make?
He chatted on as I put on my make up
Poops is a potty word right? I am in the potty so I can say poop poop poop. Why you not say poop mommy?
Little S got up. She saw me and smiled and reached out her little arms and yelled
Daddy!!!!!
As I nursed her B continued
Now I am out of the potty so I cant say it anymore but i wanna say it mommy can I huh? Can I say poop?
I brushed my teeth and S laughed and laughed.
I brushed her teeth and she spit on the floor like her big brother (although he spit in the sink)
Then she smiled a big toothy grin (with her four teeth)
You know I don't think there is anymore of a perfect way to begin my day.
(OK so sue me I gotta do a sentimental post every now and then. I think its in every mommy contract to ohh and ahh over their kids every now and then. Don't worry tomorrow Ill be crabby old me I'm sure.)
I'm into trying new computery things. I twitter, I blog, I've my spaced, I've even downloaded a few itunes and I don't even have an ipod. So knowing how savey I am my "friend" (I now say that in quotes) convinced me Facebook was the place to be. It was like the studio 54 of the 21st Century. The hip in place to be. So as not to loose any more street cred (I wear more mom jeans, go to bed by 9pm, and make meatloaf on a regular basis. My hip points are sorely lacking) I decided to go and see what all the fuss was about.
This is what I found in the first 10 minutes:
1 high school prom (ummm lets call him a date)
4 old boyfriends
3 mean chicks who hated me in high school
1 guy who still remembered that unpleasant comment I made in 1986 and was still holding a grudge
and some guy named Ed who for the life of me I cant remember
I grew up in Philly and although it was a big city it felt like a small town. Everyone knew everybody. Every silly thing you did was broadcast to all citizens of my town (at least it felt that way). As a teenager I did a lot of silly things. I think in fact I was the queen of silly things. When I left Philly I breathed a big sigh of relief and I thought now I can start fresh.
And I did
Until Facebook.
Did you ever have that nightmare where everyone you knew in high school were still there dishing the dirt on you. Pointing and poking you all over again. Where you never really grew up and felt just as vunerable as you did all those years ago? Did you?
Well welcome to Facebook!
Here are the 10 things B learned about Thanksgiving this year:
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