Too Cute

Would I be the sort of woman who would be so bogged down with work I would be unable to write a witty yet deeply thought out post for two days in a row?

Would I be the sort of gal who would be so hyped from stealing my sons Halloween candy that I was completely unable to sit and type?

Would the fact that my boss keeps talking to me while I write make it impossible to be inspired with my usual brilliance?

Would all of that make me take the easy way out and post some sickeningly sweet pictures of my children dressed up looking cute for Halloween ?

Would it?

Nope!

I tried I really tried. I would love nothing more than posting one of those ridiculously adorable photos and receive a page of "Too cute!" comments

But no. Its not happening.

No matter how hard I try my kids always seem to look like this.


or this



Out of focus with B in the process of wrestling Little S down to the ground to make her cry.

Sigh

Maybe next year.

A Halloween Tale

Maybe it because Halloween is around the bend or maybe its because Little S is teething all night long but some scary thought have been drifting in my mind lately. Scary thoughts that make you shiver and pull the covers up just a little higher.

Turn down the lights grab your teddy bears and pass the candy corn its time for a Halloween numbers tale.

At 30 I was married.
Spooky right but it took me five years to drag him kicking and screaming down the aisle

At 35 little B was born
Creepy and scary but it took a little convincing too

At 38 Little S was born
Eerily enough that took some convincing on my part

I will be 40 when Little B goes to kindergarten and 43 when Little S goes to kindergarten
Hold onto your hats it gets even creepier still

I will be 47 at B's Bar Mitzvah and 50 at S's
Get the flashlight!

I'll be 52 when B finishes high school 55 when S graduates
Hold me!

56 for college
I cant look!

between 60-70 when they get married and have kids
I wanna go home!

Ill be dead before my Grand kids have a Bar or Bat mitzvah
Oh MY GOSH!!!!!!That's it turn on the lights! Give me that teddy bear and a case of candy corn and a large martini!


I'm so old!!!!!

I hate Halloween!

This Too Shall Pass

As many of you wisely noted after my ingenious son Little B ate a plastic toy pacifier that I was using as a cake topper at his bobo (pacifier) party on Sunday this too shall pass and it did. I was so excited I wanted to take a picture to show you but I thought better of it. So as not to disappoint I have created an artist rendering of the event so we can all celebrate together.

It was a rainy Tuesday morn when little B felt the first stirrings of his morning ablutions.



Having been told he needed to show me his poops to sift through it as the doctor had ordered Little B instead ran off and pooped in secret.


After noticing Little b had disappeared I went off in search of him (see I'm not such a bad mommy it took me only 15 minutes to realize he was gone). Upon finding him I noticed a lingering smell (he has yet to get that whole wiping thing down ).


And there it was in all its glory!


The toy bobo sticking out of his turd!

May the revelry begin!



(thanks to Holly for the artistic inspiration)

Wild Party at Suzie's House

Its just a typical Monday morning. I am sitting at my desk drinking my coffee shuffling papers and waiting for a return call from Little B's doctor.

Why you may ask are you waiting to hear from little B's the doctor?

Does he have a boo boo?

Nope

A little head cold?

Nope

Did he happen to eat an inedible cake topper in front of at least 13 guests at his bobo party?

Yes! You're right how did you guess?

Yes I like to throw exciting parties where danger lurks at every turn. To hell with pinata anyone can get hit with a stick while beating a poor donkey to death. I'm the sort of gal who goes for the exotic. I throw caution to the wind and put little plastic pacifiers (bobo's) on top of a cake. After singing the traditional bobo party song and telling everyone that the cake toppers were plastic and not to be eaten I went to get a knife to cut the cake. Upon returning I noticed little hand prints on the cake and there was Little B drooling and huddeled in a corner. Yes my daredevil son during my brief absence took the plunge and stuffed the cake toppers in his mouth.

Did anyone stop him you may ask?

Nope

Did anyone even notice?

Nope

But upon party debriefing this morning it was discovered that he indeed ate at least one.

So its just another Monday morning, coffee, papers and a plastic cake topper inside my Little B.

Sigh

It's True I Hate Her

Each time I walk past the five year old classroom in my school I am greeted with a large plastic pink thing sitting a top of coats and papers. It sits silently mocking me. Making me rethink who I am and the choices I've made in my life. Its sits and says yes I am all you will never be or have. It is...you guessed it... Barbie's cruise ship.

Barbie's cruise ship a large plastic monstrosity full of boating fun that makes me fight the green eyes demon each day. Barbies cruise ship, the pink boat that says you work over 40 hours a week you budget you scrimp you save but even if you win lotto you will never have your own cruise ship .


Today I walked past that pink boat from hell and I gave it a little shove just a small one. It tipped the boat of lost dreams just enough so I saw her. She was naked with matted hair, covered in stickers and green marker laying atop of an old stuffed monkey. It was Barbie battered and abused and clinging to that ship as though her life depended on it and I knew I may never have a cruise ship but at least I have my dignity...well...(I thought pulling the stickers out of my hair and noting the snot stain on my shirt) ... at least I didn't have to do it with a dirty old monkey to get a stupid boat.

13!!!!!!

Yesterday may not have been my best post. I know some of you may not find a post about aliens and pee pee scintillating stuff. I know I've written better and I know I've written worse but imagine my horror upon opening my blog and seeing a sad 13 comments. 13!!!! Oh no! How can this be? I know I'm not supposed to be counting. I know its not about quantity but quality of comments but 13!

I'm nothing but a comment ho I admit it. Vered had just written a post on closing comments. On not just playing tag to get a cheep comment. I wanted to be like her I really did but upon seeing 13 I knew I was not as evolved. But I admit it I love tag. I think I now realize that I am such a comment ho I will clap my hands for a simple LOL. Its true I do breath a sigh of popular contented relief when I see I've gotten over 20 comments. I might even giggle with delight when I hit the 30 mark. If that makes me shallow so be it!

But 13? Is there something hanging out of my nose? Was I a little on the ripe side yesterday? Bed bugs got 31 and lice in the eye got 29. I see you are all a gross bunch. Even the headless hamster got 32 comments.

So I would like to give an award for those wonderful people who commented on my alien pee pee story. Here's to you my loyal bloggy friends who will listen to my pee pee story and will make comments that include the word Uranus.

Erin

MamaGeek @ Works For Us

Debbie

Not Your Aunt Bea

Prefers Her Fantasy Life

Queen-Size funny bone

Erin, Nick and Merrick

m

Kate Coveny Hood

My Wonderful Men

Maggie

Vered - MomGrind

King of New York Hacks

I love you all!!!!

Oops. I think Blogger messed with my comment button. Maybe you do all love my pee pee stories after all.

My Own Kind Of Close Encounters

At 4:30am this morning I woke up with the odd feeling something was going on. I walked into the living room and from the couch rose a white shape. It had long dangley arms and long white dangley legs. It looked like the figures that appear at the end of close encounters where the aliens grab the guys hand and leads him into the space ship. I began to panic as the thing ran towards me shrieking in a high pitched voice. I began to run when I heard the word pee pee. I realized it was not an alien come to take me away in his space ship where I would meet other aliens and have babies in test tubes. In fact it was my own baby boy. Naked and pasty white flying towards me damp and slightly smelly. Yes my little alien boy had peed the bed.

I guess its my fault. The nighttime pull ups were costing me $1.25 per pair. I believed in my heart of hearts that if I only gave it a chance we could throw those pull ups away and go for broke. But broke this time obviously contained urine and cold wet sheets.

So pushing back the fear and I admit it disappointment (who wouldn't want to check out a the inside of a space ship. I hear they have plush leather seats and great coffee.) I gathered my pasty alien child and tucked him into my bed where he rolled around like a lunatic and used his subsonic squeals to contact other life forms until around 5:30am when it was time to get up and he fell asleep.

I hear Neptune is nice this time of year...I can pack very quickly...just saying

Its All My Work's Fault

You might have asked yourself where has Suzie gone? What's up with Suzie? She usually posts 5 days a week and now not a peep? What the...? Where has that girl gone?

Well I gotta tell you my rotten job is once again interrupting my blogging. I know I've complained about this before but Really! I thought I had gotten it under control but for some reason work is expecting to me well, work and I really resent it.

Don't they know I have some great stories to tell? I wanted to tell you all about how I read this article about how most kids hurt themselves while their moms are making dinner and then while I was making dinner and thinking smugly about how that's never happened to me little S began to scream and somehow she had cut her foot while my attention was diverted. But could I tell you about that? NO! I had to file I report.

I wanted to tell you about how my radiator makes me feel like I have inhaled a tub of straw and how if I spend one more winter in my NYC apartment I am sure all the moisture will be sucked out of my body from the horrible old radiator I sleep next to leaving just an empty Suzie husk that will crackle in the wind. Did I get to share that gem? Nope I had to meet with parents about kindergarten.

Did you hear about how the Bella the school hamster ate her long time partner and friend Bella 2's head in a fit of hamster rage? I mean that was a doozie the whole head was gone. Just a little headless hamster body left feet up in the habit trail. Little B is still talking about that one. Did I get to share? Nope!Couldn't! Had to answer boring old phone calls.

I know I've complained about this before but really lets get our priorities straight here OK? Blog first work second. I'm pretty sure that's in my work description...right?

I'm Outta Here

You remember that Seinfeld episode where George Costanza would always leave on a high note. If he could get people to laugh he would say, "All right! That's it for me. Goodnight, everyone!" and leave the room. I think I understand George in fact I think I am George.

I loved my post yesterday. Not to toot my own horn but it was a good one. I mean sometimes you just gotta pat yourself on the back and say "Good post Suzie! You hit the nail on the head with that one." Well I sure did.

I started to write today's post but quickly saw it was a loosing proposition. I started one about friendships but it didn't quiet cut it. I started another on coffee but really, it was a snore fest. I thought about doing a belated Wordless Wednesday or a Thursday 13 even a Friday Sky watch but deep inside I knew it wasn't going to deliver that same wonderful punch. Its sad but true.

You know I think I just need to accept the fact that anything I say today is not gonna be as good as yesterday. I'm not topping that one. Today's post just doesn't have a chance. Poor little post you never could reach your full potential. You were destined to be number 2 at best.

Boy I mean I sure was great yesterday. I'm still laughing. Cant get it out of mind really. Wow I mean that gonna be hard to top. Yup great..... Anyway....

All right! That's it for me. Goodnight, everyone

I Think I've Let Myself Go

I think I've let myself go. The thought occurred to me today as I sat on the commode answering natures call and putting on make up by digging into the dusty remnants of a free make up sample I received at least four years ago and smearing it on my face without the benefit of a mirror.

Yeah I think I might have let myself go

This also occurred to me in the shower as I tried to lift an economy bucket sized shampoo bottle labeled "OK Shampoo" to wash the dried green beans out of my hair that have been there since Tuesday.

Its true I might be letting myself go.

This thought also drifted into my consciousness as I squeezed into a pair of maternity pants (I had my last baby in 2007) and watched my flab flop over the wait band and tried to hide it with an over sized shirt with dried noodles on the sleeve.

I am I'm letting myself go.

I read People I know that Angelia Jolie lost all her twin weight in 3 weeks by only eating papaya. I see new mom Jennifer Lopez flit around her house in a white chiffon gown with no dried snot or vomit stains on an inch of her 105 pound post baby body.

Me I'm lucky if I can find a shirt without holes from baby carriers and stroller snafu's and grab a semi frozen Weight Watchers meal for lunch while brushing the food out of my hair. White chiffon? Papaya? Not in this life time.

Maybe for a while letting ones self go is the way its supposed to be especially when you have young kids. I know in this society we are supposed to be #1 all the time. Sure me time has its place it does. But maybe when the kids are really little it isn't so bad to be able to let yourself go peacefully. To accept the mushed peas in the hair. To revel in the flab caused by the little munchkins that are now gnawing a hole in the kitchen chair with their new teeth. Maybe letting yourself go at least for a little while is what lets us concentrate on the important stuff. So let the white chiffon and papaya wait at least for a little while.

Let me say it loud and proud I Have Let Myself Go...at least for now.

And the Goldfish Will Die Too

Yesterday after school I was walking home with my kids and Little B was jabbering on about something (I hate to admit it but sometimes I do tune him out) when he points a man walking by and asks loudly
"Mommy will that man die?"
"Uh yes." I stammer, "everyone dies."
B shakes his head solemnly, "when you die you don't get up right?"
"Uh nope. " I begin to mumble something about heaven and wings when I realize I've lost him. He sits in the stroller lost in thought. "Mommy is that girl going to die?"
"Yup someday."
"Is that dog gonna die?"
"Yup"
"How about that tree?"
"Sure"
"And that bike?"
"No not the bike"
"And that lady?"
"Uh huh"
"And that kid?"
"mmm..."
"And what about that..."
"Boy" says a passing man as my little grim reaper points his bony finger in his general direction "that is one depressing kid."


Thats me boy!

My Drug Store My Friend

I have always found the drugstore to be one of the most relaxing places in the world. Whenever I get stressed I go to my local drugstore and just walk the aisles. I walk past the sunny make up section and skip through the shiny racks of pain relievers and anti acids and I just feel calm and centered. I don't know why but I just do. When B was in the hospital I found the mother of all drug stores. It was the size of a foot ball field and had everything from mops to milk and eggs. It was a wonder. It made me happy if only for a brief and shining moment.

Lately my little patch of peace has been disturbed by a new and alarming trend, really young and obnoxious check put people. It started on Saturday. I went to buy toilet paper and I overheard this "I mean he's the youngest CEO ever like 40. And you know 40 is really really old so I'll never get a job like that." Suddenly the make up aisle wasn't so sunny any more and the packs of Advil didn't look so shiny. I nearly chucked my TP at her. I wanted to shout "I'm nearly 40 you twit! 40 is not old! I am not old!!!!!!! You Britney Spears wanna be!"

Sunday I went back hoping to regain a little of my peace the rude check out gal had taken from me but them I was assaulted with this:

18 Year Old Clerk #1: Everyone knows who she is!
18 Year Old Clerk #2: You are so wrong no way!
18 Year Old Clerk #1:Even this lady (points to me) knows who she is!
18 Year Old Clerk #2: There is no way THAT lady knows who she is!
18 Year Old Clerk #1: I'll bet you 10 bucks. (turns to me) Hey lady do you know who Kim Kardashian is?

WHAT THE????? No I'm sorry I only know Barry Manillow and Yani. Now let me pay for my support hose and stool softener and I'll be on my way. Arghhhhhh!!!!

What happened to you my little drug store, my haven, my friend? Why have you become the land of the annoying? Why must I wrestle with age issues as I walk your stocked beautiful aisles?

I guess I'll have to start hanging around vitamin shops now.

And It Still Goes On and On

Its so hard to blog these days. You would think all these weeks later things would have calmed down on the meningitis front but they haven't. My staff is still being nuts every day there is a new freak out. The Department of Health has been getting calls from random staff members every few days alleging all types of things which means constant random inspections at work. Every day the stress continues and gets worse. Since Little B has been in the hospital I don't think there has been one day where the stress hasn't been out of control. The staff thinks I am lying to them about calling the DOH they think I have inside info I am not sharing. It's out of control and I have no idea what to do anymore. Its crazy!

I have to keep reminding myself that I am not responsible for my child being sick. The meningitis germ is not my pal who I invited to invade my sons body. I am just a gal who had a sick son and now is put in the very uncomfortable place of being the villain. I have no idea why.

I think as bosses go I am a very nice one. I believe that since work is where you spend most of your time if its not fun then it means life is not fun. I have tried to create an open and inviting environment where peoples voices are heard and people laugh. Maybe that was my mistake this type of craziness would never happen at McDonald's.

I tried to follow Mark's Salinas's advice about picking a special hour to worry and setting that hour aside for worries instead of letting it take over all the time but its really hard these days as I feel I am being attacked constantly at every angle. I am trying to remember to breath and I know or I hope this will all be just a bitter memory months from now.

More Worries and Cello

Part of my job is to go see all the local elementary schools so I know what to recommend to parents about their kids continuing education. Today I went on a tour of one of the local public schools. It was a great school. It emphasized the arts and parent involvement blah blah blah. During the whole tour I kept thinking Little B starts kindergarten next year....wait! Your not taking my little boy you vultures! He's my baby he's not going here! NO WAY!!! (He's actually not. Were not zoned for that school but you get the idea)

Little B has aways been by my side. I have always been the one responsible for his education. As the head of his school I could sneak in a hug or a kiss all day long. I've even wiped a butt or two during a normal school day. Walking those halls and imagining him there made me think of my own schools days.

(Scene goes up on little Suzie with a feathered Dorthy Hamel do wearing no name jeans and a paisley shirt made of some very scratchy material)

When I was a kid it was the 70's Fara was the rage and Brooke Shield's liked to wear her jeans naked. All the girl loved their designer jeans and their bonnie bell lip gloss. I was never into stuff like that. I like reading, singing to ABBA (It was the 70's OK?) and sneaking cigarettes on my families roof . I played cello. As I did not have a wide group of friends I named my cello Orville and used to put hats on him and talk to him on the school bus. (Oh yes I was a really popular gal). Instead of the children finding my quirks endearing they instead expressed their love of me through nailing during dodge ball in gym class and making me sit alone during lunch time.

I want my kids to be happy and to love school. I don't want them eating alone or being called stinky stinky Suzie (oh wait maybe that's my hang up). Maybe this is all my hang up kids need to be independent..right...they need to find their wings, soar to the sky, leave the nest, find their own kabob. But I'm not ready. I have more butts to wipe before my big boy opens his own pinata and becomes a little man. Ahhhh!!!!

My Pod Kids

I don't know how or why it happened but both children were good last night. Really good. It was wonderful but strange and creepy at the same time. As they gathered around my lap listening to stories and holding each others hands I felt a chill. Were they waiting until I was lulled into a false sense of security before they attacked one another with sippy cups and tried to stick things in the dogs ears? Who had replaced my children with these sweet pod children? Maybe it was aliens. It had to be aliens. But Little B put socks on his sisters feet to keep the chill off before bed and Little S kissed her brother as they were tucked into bed. I kept waiting for the other foot to drop. I kept waiting for the blue ice to fall out of a passing airplane but it was a very nice evening.

Until....

2am

Why is 2am the hour when all children throw up, develop horrible rashes, or freak out? I have not been granted the answer to this question but my children certainly signed on for the 2am slot. At 2am Little B started to wail. This woke up Little S who also started to wail. I began to yell for Hubby as it was technically his shift. Hubby did not wake up he gave me a sleep induced thumbs up rolled over and began to snore. I was on my own and my yelling caused the dog to freak out and bark. It was fun, fun, fun! When I could finally make out what was wrong over all the noise it turned out B's mouth hurt. I don't know what all that was about but apparently 10 min of the Superfriends and an ice pop seemed to do the trick.

I went back to bed assured in the knowledge these were indeed my children and they had not been replaced by any pod kids.

Phew..I'm relieved

Or am I?

You Just Gotta Laugh

I'm usually a 5 day a week posting kind of gal but the last few weeks have been so crazy blogging has not been on the top ten list (collective gasp). I know I know...I just feel like I've been just going from crisis to crisis this year. I am tired I'm not sleeping and surprisingly my diet has flown out the window. My Dad's advice on just about everything keep flowing through my head, "Stop taking yourself too seriously." I think a few Twinkies might help me take myself a lot less seriously but then it would just be the sugar talking.

So I am going to work hard on trying to take myself and these situations a little less seriously. I'm gonna try to see the humor in things again. I'm gonna try to stop worrying so damn much about things I cannot control. Then I am going to build a giant windmill, loose 30 pounds and win lotto.

No but really I've gotta do something since I wont take anti depressants while nursing and total amnesia seems to be in short supply. I began last night Little B had an asthma attack (yes he has asthma why shouldn't he just add it to the stress list) as I loaded the nebulizer I found myself laughing inappropriately. My poor hubby looked freaked out like he was decided whether or not he should call the guy in the white coats. But if it takes laughing at bad moments to de-stress I am gonna do it. If the people at work want to walk out then they can just walk out. I am not in control of any of these things so what will happen will happen. Tomorrow I will post a humor post unless the ceiling falls in on me, I grow another head or I loose a toe or something. Hey the way things have been going lately I wouldn't be surprised.

And On and On It Goes

I had hoped to have a quiet holiday. My plan was to take my kids to synagogue followed by dropping them off at school and having a little R&R with my hubby. It was such a good good plan but it was not to be.

One of the teachers developed a very bad headache and was admitted into the hospital. She called one of the teachers and said they were testing her for (among other things) meningitis. The teachers became panicked and began staging a walk out. I ran to the school and tried to explain once again that even though the virus which is like a cold is contagious but the meningitis is not. This is the same conversation I had at my sons bedside in the hospital. But they said having my children there was contaminating everyone.

I called the Department of Health and had them explain my children were not contagious and once again talk to them about viral meningitis. They would not hear it. It was like a modern day witch hunt where my children where the ones being thrown on the pire. It was crazy.

At one point I broke down and started crying it didn't seem to matter to them at all. They seemed stuck in this ignorance where the facts where irrelevant and only their fear mattered. I had the DOH (Department of Health) several pediatricians and my child's doctor in the hospital explain things to them but they could only hear their fear. One teacher even called the DOH to verify that I didn't have a friend pose as a DOH official. It was unbelievable. It was a mob mentality and it was directed at my kids and myself. It was terrible and just very very ugly.

Silly me I thought people stood behind you in times of trouble. I thought co-workers supported each other when children get horribly sick. Instead they seem out to save there own skin even when there is no danger. My son was dying of dehydration not viral meningitis and that can happen with any illness. I would not bring my child to school with a deathly illness. Why would I?

Of course in the end the teacher did not have meningitis.

I however think I am on the verge of a breakdown.