The Yeti is Dead

The joys of having all girls. Hair fights in the mornings, clothes fights in the afternoon, period talk at the dinner table. We’ve experienced it all. Recently we had “the Talk” with Zombiegirl because they were showing a “body” film in school and I wanted her to be prepared. TMI, Mom. That’s what I got when I showed her the “Miracle of Birth” film.

We were on our way to Cheeburger, Cheeburger (review to follow) in Plainview tonight in Dad’s truck. MR was in the front and Beena, Z-girl and I were in the back. The AC was blasting and Z-girl was getting goosebumps. Which caused the hair on her legs to stand straight up! Beena and I were amazed at how much hair she had- she was furry! Okay, she’s got a great tan and blondish hair but alot of it. When she put her legs into the front seat to show MR, he called her a Wookie. I’ve had this discussion with some of the other moms (seems this generation is unnaturally hairy) and we’ve all agreed that it’s to early for them to shave. But Beena suggested using Nair on the little Yeti.

I am thankful that Zombiegirl is growing up with an older sister. When I piss her off, and I know I will, it’s good to know she can go to her sister, who has a good head on her shoulders. She’ll confide more in Beena than with me, and I’m surprisingly okay with that. I don’t have a sibling anymore to share my pains and joys so I’m glad the girls have each other. And getting rid of unwanted hair might be a little cooler if she takes it off with her sister instead of her mom. As long as she runs downstairs with a big grin on her face and rubs her legs against mine to show how smooth they are. As long as she still wants to snuggle on the couch- just a little while longer.

I Was Blogging, I Swear!

Oh for crying out loud, I can’t wait until August is over and I can forget to blog a day and not feel guilty.

I was blogging last night, really.

Just not here.

My hubby- he who still does not have an ATM card, fought to NOT get EZ Pass and won’t join Facebook- has a blog.

Yes. You read correctly.

You see, he has a love of watches- much like Rachel Zoe loves shoes, or a drug addict loves a speedball- he loves watches. He tries to talk to me about the 75mm o-ring or the 32 jewels in the automatic setting but I just kinda…

Oops. Sorry. Spaced out a little there. See? That’s what happens when he starts watch talking to me. So I suggested awhile back that he start a blog so that he can spout all his expertise to other watch collectors.

So having some blog experience I helped him set up his account and template. He figured out how to upload the pictures himself, bless his heart! His very clever, so if you can get through the watch mumbo-jumbo, he writes a good blog.

From Time to Time. Read it and comment- make him feel good!

AuntSoo to the fourth!

I’m going to be an aunt again! MR’s baby sister Paula and her husband Ray are expecting!

This will be their fourth child. All the rest are four and under.

They’re crazy. But they make beautiful babies.

When Raymond, formerly known as Ray-Ray, was little and Paula was expecting Sammy, Beena went upstate to live with them for the summer as an au pair. She got really close to the kids- so close that the family took her to the Bahamas with them so Paula and Ray could go out at night. Unfortunately, we live about an hour and a half away, so I don’t get to see them as much as I want to.

But when we do, we can’t help talking about them all the way home. They are riots. Sammy (aka Samantha) with her crazy beautiful hair, Raymond with his fasination with trucks and guns and Lily asking “why?” all the time. They are precocious, smart and wild. They’re loving and funny and satisfy my need to read to small children. And tickle. I have to tickle these kids because their laughs are cotton candy and gumdrops. I’ve done “baby hat” *to each and every one of those kids- some of them while in the hospital waiting for their baby brother or sister to be born. I wish I lived around the corner so Aunt Soo can spoil them rotten. I’m jealous of Titi who only lives five minutes away. But I love Titi, too. She’s a wonderful aunt,

Paula doesn’t want to know what the next baby is going to be, but I think we’re all wishing for a boy. I know whatever it is, it’ll be as beautiful and loved as the others.

We took this picture to give to Grandma and Grandpa for Christmas last year…

What a family!

Stuck on You

I find things stuck on or in my body.

Like the day 11 or 12 years ago I found a bead in my belly button.

I had forgotten the girls and I were playing with beads and they stuck it in there to make me pretty. Three days before I actually found it.

Or the time I was at work and used the ladies room. While washing my hands I looked in the mirror and noticed a huge parrot sticker stuck to the side of my hair. The girls had a ritual- they would give me a sticker in the morning to “remember them” while I was at work. They would put it on my shirt and I would take it off when I left the house. I changed my shirt that day after being stickered, and figured the sticker was still on the shirt. Nope, it was on my hair. And no one told me. I rode the A Train in that morning. For over an hour. And worked. For over an hour.

Or the time I had a Chiquita banana sticker stuck to my pants. I brought a banana to work and the sticker made it’s way from the banana to my chair. I sat down and Tada! [cue music] I’m a Chiquita banana, and I’m here to say- I’m an asshat! Practically all day. Until my manager told me I had a sticker on my ass, and could he take it off for me? (The days before sexual harassment awareness…)

Or the time (this morning) I’m taking a shower and find an OB tampon wrapper (you know, the plastic middle piece that separates the top and the bottom) stuck on my ass. Was it from last night, when I changed the OB, or from this morning when I sat on the toilet? Either way, it was there for awhile because I was up at 5:00 am (see dreamscape below) doing stuff and I took a shower at 6:00 am.

Am I unusually sticky? Or maybe overly sweaty? Or just clueless.

I vote for clueless. I just picked up my lunch two blocks away with my suit jacket buttoned crooked. And wondered why the weird lady in the lobby was looking at ME weirdly.

I’m an asshat.

NaBloPoMo #24- Dreamscape 1

This segment brought to you by Mamasoo’s wacky subconscience…

As he leaned over her sleeping body, her eyes snapped open and all she could see were his gleaming fangs. She twisted her head to the left, to see if her husband was awake and if he was, did he see what she was seeing? The intense pain she experienced when she turned snapped her head back- face to face with the vampire. She cried out- not because she was afraid, because she was strangely calm, but because her neck hurt so much. Did he already bite me, she thought? “No,” he said aloud, “I didn’t. Yet.” Now she felt a small trickle of fear creep down her spine. Where was her husband? She moved her hand over the quilt to where her husband should be. There was the remote for the TV, but no husband. “He’s not here,” the vampire whispered in her ear. “There’s no one here but you and me.” She tried again to turn her head to the left, but again met with intense pain. She whimpered and the vampire, in reply to her murmur, brushed his fangs against the tight knot in her neck. “You have a pinched nerve, my love.” He placed the points of his fangs against the pain. “Here, let me relieve you of the agony.” As he shifted on the bed to place her in the most tender of embraces, she rolled to the left, ignoring the searing pain in her neck. The vampire fell on the empty spot and cried out in frustration. With a speed that defied nature, he was on her from behind, holding her head at an angle that would allow him access to the tight cable in her neck, as well as her vein. With a moan, he sank his fangs deep into the ache in her neck. She screamed, first her husband’s name, then the name of the vampire, before she lost consciousness.

Deep in the comforting blackness, she heard the insects. They grew louder and louder until she rushed to the surface of the abyss and realized it was her alarm clock. It was 5:00. Time to get up.

A pinched nerve, True Blood and too many vampire books have invaded my dreams. Thanks, SS23, for starting the Dreamscape series.

NaBloPoMo #22- Down for the Count

My body is betraying me. It’s kicking its own ass. And because of this, my weekend was put on hold.

Including posting for NaBloPoMo. Shit.

Did I mention I got the stomach virus Zombiegirl came down with? The stomach virus Beena then caught? Well I guess it wasn’t the full blown virus I had on Thursday because I GOT IT AGAIN YESTERDAY! Let me recap my wonderful weekend…

Friday I had to go to New Jersey. I woke up with a migraine- I’ll explain the reason why in a minute- and still queasy from the day before. I slept on the train and felt a little better before I got onto the ferry. Have I written about my commute to Weehawken once a month? Oh, it’s so much fun. I take the 7:38 LIRR to Penn Station. Across the street from Penn I catch the NY Waterways Ferry bus to the ferry terminal. Then I take the Ferry to Weehawken. Add a plane to that and I’ve covered most modes of transportation. So to do all this with a migraine wasn’t my idea of a good time. Much like sitting in a conference room all day going over the same crap we went over two weeks prior isn’t my idea of a good time. You could say I go inot these meetings with a bad attitude already. Being sick didn’t help. Plus, I was supposed to go out with work friends that night to celebrate some birthdays. I was just not feeling up to it, and I’m sure I hurt some feelings. Sorry, but not my fault.

I leave around 4:00pm but when I walk out, it’s more like 9:00 pm. It was totally dark- did I black out for a few hours? Did the meeting run too long? Nope, the rains are coming. And come they did. The heavens opened up the minute I stepped out of the building (of course they did!) I shared my tiny umbrella with someone else walking to the ferry, then with this poor guy holding papers and getting soaked. With three people under my umbrella my poor new Coach bag got drenched, as did my sweater. I took it off on the ferry and actually wrung it out. So that’s why I woke up with such a bad migraine- was it supposed to rain like this today?

I get home and it’s a mad dash to get everything together for the craft sale on Saturday. All I want to do is go to sleep, but I have to remember to take everything with me, since we’re going out to the beach house in order to leave at a decent time to make it to the Hamptons by 8:00 am the next morning. Beena is throwing up and I feel totally guilty leaving her. She reassures me she’s going to sleep right after we leave. I still feel bad, but we have to go. At this point my head is pounding. I sleep in the car. MR is not happy.

The rest of Friday night I spend finishing up the Fairy wands I was sewing at the meeting (heh) and watching more of “Dead Like Me” on hulu.com. Why didn’t I go to bed, you ask? Sleep is the ultimate relief, you say! Why did you stay up to make wands?

I was afraid I wouldn’t have much to sell at the craft sale.

And it was a good thing I did. They all sold. But that’s another post.

Fast forward to Sunday, the day we’re supposed to go to Splish Splash and have everyone over for a BBQ. I wake up at around five in the morning with my ass telling me to Go! Go! Go! Quickly! I fly to the bathroom and…

Great. The Big D.

I go back to bed and fifteen minutes later- Go! Go! GO! This went on for an hour until my virus figured it would be more efficient if it found another exit. Go north, it said!

Have I told you how much I hate throwing up?

I cried myself back to bed, hating my body, hating the person who gave us this bug and hating MR becuase he didn’t wake up and comfort me. What do I do about Splish Splash? And why does my head still hurt? Well, the Splish Splash thing worked out- MR dropped Zombiegirl off to meet up with the soccer families, and Beena recuperated enough that she and Big J went too. No one wanted to come over for a BBQ becuase I was infected , so I slept all day while MR played on the PC (thanks, Jeff!) I figured while I sleep I can’t throw up. But the minute I woke up- Go! Go! GO!

Did I mention that while my body was betraying me this way I was also bleeding like a stuck pig? So I had all that crap to deal with, too. If I ever meet Eve in the Heaven, I’m going to punch her in the head.

I need vitamins.

Dance with me

I took advantage of being sick today. I caught that stomach virus Zombiegirl had yesterday. I stayed in bed all day today and made tutus. We have a craft fair out in the Hamptons on Saturday, and of course I have nothing to sell. So I figured I would test the tutus to see if they would be popular for future craft shows. I spent about $40 on all the tulle, and I figured I could get 15 or more tutus made. I have 4 sizes- from infant to 7/8 year old. All different colors and patterns. They look so cute all together!

I started making these on the way up to Little Pond. I made three by the time we got there. The next morning, I pulled them out and started making more. In a bit, I had an audience. All the girls and some of my mom friends all had an opinion on the color sequences and eventually, every girl asked if they could have one. Even one of the boys wanted one (and I’m not telling which one!) Really, they’re so easy, I said, that the girls could make their own. They were excited and started putting in their color orders. And deciding what they would wear with their tutus! I think I found this year’s Christmas gifts!

While we’re packing up the campsite to come home, all the kids made friends with the little beauty that moved into Jodi’s site (the G’s left a day early.) Little Eve is sixteen months old. She followed the big kids around up and down the road, under the watchful eye of her mom, of course. Zombiegirl, Suze and Kedalls all ran over to me and asked if Eve could have a tutu. If they were expensive, or hard to make, I would have said no. But I figured she would be a great test to see if it was the right size and all.

When the girls gave the tutu to her mom, Eve came running over and pointed to it and smiled! Wow. Pretty must be an inherent trait in girls! Mom put it on Eve, and the face! That face made every one of those kids smile! And it fit! It was definitely another good moment. I was so proud of the girls for thinking of someone other than themselves.

So thanks, Eve, for being my tiny dancer. And thanks to my daughter and her wonderful friends for being so kind. Ten year olds doing random acts of kindness- makes you hopeful for the future.

NaBloPoMo #19- I Have Moments.

In case you haven’t realized, I’m a crabby person. I complain constantly. I gripe, moan and bitch. I rarely see the positive and focus way too much on the negative. These are all reasons I started this blog, however. To try to get things out of my head and help me improve myself.

I do have moments of pure joy and happiness. No, really. I do. In fact this past week, I’ve experienced several. Walking in the city (on a Wednesday- Polyester Day- gasp!) after work last week. Instead of going down through Rockefeller Center to the F train, I had to mail a letter, so I exited at the street. I got caught up in a crowd of people (tourists!) who were just walking and laughing. Two of the girls were in totally wacky clothes. I was in the middle of this crowd and my heart swelled. I was like the Grinch, holding up all those presents, when his heart grew three times larger. I laughed to myself, walked another block with these people, and went underground. I was in a good mood the rest of the night.

Also last week, walking to the train station, listening to the Allman Brothers singing “Little Martha.” I passed under a tree just as the wind blew and little droplets of rain scattered all around me. Listening to that song (even though it’s a sad song) and experiencing those little raindrops and the wind in the trees gave me goosebumps. And my heart swelled again.

Sitting around a campfire, having kids jump at the chance to burn marshmallows for your s’more and talking with good friends is a definite good moment. Having all those people waiting and trying to help you down the hiking hill because you lost your balance, grabbed a tree and stepped on a loose stone and was laughing so hard you couldn’t move was a definite good moment. Having your mom friends stick by you while you were choking (okay- that wasn’t a good time) and then have the little ones come up to you to check to see if you were okay was a definite good moment. Eating awesome food cooked over an open fire on your new camp plate and the Drink of the Day refilled for you several times without even asking was a good moment. And every time I had a good moment, I thanked God for them. They’re precious- they don’t come along often. But when they do, I totally appreciate them.

Sorry if this post seems a little off. I don’t think I did my moments justice. I’m still really tired- Zombiegirl is sick and I”m not feeling too hot myself. Give me awhile. I’ll go back over it and try to clean it up.

NaBloPoMo #18- They’re Baaack!

We’re back from camping. And I didn’t get eaten by bears. Sorry to the anonymous commenter who wished my death by bear consumption. Maybe next time.

Huge thanks to SS23 and R and Beena and Lola and Spencer for filling in for me. I was a little scared to see what you would write, but I realized I didn’t have to worry. They were great posts- thanks for indulging my little promise to myself. I would be more enthusiastic, but I’m exhausted. Love you, and really, thanks.

Was I glad to go camping? Yes. Was I glad to come home? Again, yes. I’m tired, bruised, bitten, swollen, aggravated, achy and it hurts when I pee. But while we camped I laughed, snuggled, hiked, drank, sang, ate and had an awesome time with people I care about. So that good totally outweighs all the bad.

I did miss a hot shower by myself, which is one of the first things I did when I got home.

I’ll tell you all about our trip in the next few posts.

Beena Takes the Wheel

Hey everyone, this is Beena posting for Mom while she is away still camping. So today is my day to blog. I wasn’t going to until Mom talked me into it, and plus she sounded pretty desperate. I mean, she posted it twice on facebook with no responses. I told Mom that I had no idea what to write about. I’m a math major, not an english major. Mom suggested I blog about work. Ugh I hate work these days. I wasn’t going to until I had the most awful week there.

So these past two weeks are what we call a floorset in retail world. It’s back to school and soon all the bratty teenagers will be in here demanding all the new clothes while their stressed out mothers pick up the tab. This floorset involves practically rearranging the whole store moving the old to the back and the new to the front. We have had shipment almost every day (opposed to 3 times a week), oh, and did I mention there is a deadline to get it done. So it’s safe to say everyone is pretty stressed out. Add that to the crazy customers we got in there today, makes for a good post. (Well at least I think so).

Today topped the cake. There is so much to do and all of our regular crazies came in today. So I decided to make a list of things NOT to do when you go into a retail store. Please, take my advice. Imp practically begging at this point. As a matter of fact, after this post, I might just go and write down the web address on every receipt so all the customers can read it too. Also, I am sorry if I sound mean. Ask Mom; once you get me started on work, I can’t shut up.

•This is a junior store. I know that you might want to fit into the clothes here, but in reality, you probably can’t. No, it’s not because everything runs small. No, it’s not because it must be the way it’s made. It is because it is made for 12-23 year olds. (23 is even pushing it but we do have some clubby tops and sexy lingerie that I can’t see 12 year olds using.) When you ask me why you can’t fit into your small top, I will try my best to be nice and say “well, it is a junior store”. Please save the awkwardness and don’t even ask. This is also a GIRLS junior store. No, we don’t sell men’s clothing.

•I know that you really really need that shirt ten minutes AFTER we close, but I am really not going to let you in. No matter how hard you beg. So please stop banging on the window.

•As a matter of fact, I do have a life outside of work so when you arrive at the door, look at the time we close, realize that that time is 1.5 minutes away, please walk away. Do not come in.

•Just because I work in retail, does not mean I am stupid. Again, I’m a math major. Please don’t come up to the register with a “50% off NOW 3.99” sticker you ripped off and stuck on the brand new $40 dress. I can do math.

•When you see that I am reworking an area, this does not mean that new merchandise is going out. So please stop standing right where I need to put the giant stack of shoes, and then knock them down when you start to look at them because you think they are new.

•If the first 4 doors you try in the fitting room are locked, there is no need to continue checking. They are all probably locked.

•Speaking of the fitting room, once you realize the bell goes off when you stand under it, please don’t stop in the doorway. This will not make me come to you any faster. Also, there is a sign there that says “6 items allowed” so when I ask you how many you have please don’t tell me “a lot” and expect me to open the room for you, this will not save you from counting your 100 items.

•I am very sorry to tell you that retail is out to confuse you. But by now, I hope that you will have already figured this out. Maybe not. Please, do not come up to me and tell me that your $20 shoes are $7.99 because you found it on the “$7.99 rack” my answer to you will automatically be “and up”. Every sign says it. Somewhere.

•No, there are no coupons out right now for you. Even if there were, why should I give you one? Please stop asking me.

•My wonderful retail store pays me. I do not get extra for babysitting, nor do you pay me for babysitting. Please watch your kids. It is not in my job description.

•I have a name. You might not know it but you may certainly not call me by any of the following:
o “Psst”
o “Baby”
o “Yoo hoo”
o “Hello??”
o “Lady”
•Last but not least, before you ask; yes I work here. What gave it away? My bright blue neck lanyard? My smiling face? The fact that you just saw me behind the register?

Ughh.