Not the Easter Bunny's finest moment

Spoiler alert for all people ages 10 and under:  I play the role of the Easter Bunny in this story!

The flu hit our house on Easter weekend.  Makes me so sad.  I love Easter church masses and was really looking forward to a day with my family!  But alas, it was not to be. 

After 2 full days of the boys with the flu, Easter Eve started with a 9:30 pm phone call from Jeremy.  He was at work and trying to convince himself that his stomach ache was from the hamburger he ate at dinner.  Nevermind the fact that he had stayed up all night on Thursday with a vomiting child and then spent the entire day on Friday with 2 sick boys.  Yeah sure honey.  It's probably the hamburger.

Sure enough, 11:30 pm rolls around and he is doubled over in pain.  Can barely stop upchucking long enough to tell me he's on his way home.  He made the drive home and arrived just after midnight.  Happy Easter.

Now it's 4 am.  Leo wakes up having thrown up in bed again.  We go through the now very familiar routine of clean up, so much so that he is telling me what to do step by step.  I have no idea where he gets his bossy side!

And now it's Easter morning.  My grand plan had been for Jeremy to hide all candy/eggs when he arrived home from work.  Clearly that wasn't happening.  As the boys made their way upstairs as they do every morning, I rolled over in bed only to discover that I, too, have a little bit of a rumble in the belly going on.  Well, that's just freaking great!  All possible Easter Bunny's are down for the count.  But I must pull through. 

I head downstairs under the guise of getting their morning juice.  With each step my stomach is turning.  I finally make it downstairs where I open 2 bags of candy and decide to just throw them in some piles on the living room floor.  Then I grab their Easter baskets that I had made the night before, position them on the couch, grab their juices and head back upstairs. 

I make the grand announcement that the Easter Bunny has arrived to which Justin replies "Oh, I bet he put out our eggs that we colored last night."  Well, son of a bunny!!!  I forgot the darned colored eggs! 

I might be sick but I can still think on my feet (plus my sick kids were a little slow on the uptake).  I told him that I should go down by myself and check.  I hurried....ok, that's a lie....I made my way downstairs holding my stomach.  Grabbed 6 of their eggs and put them on the living room floor with the rest of the piles.  The smell sent me over the edge.  This time before I went back up I grabbed the ol' puke bucket.  It wasn't looking good at this point.

The boys come downstairs to see what the Easter Bunny has delivered.  Nothing was hidden.  Just sitting there in plain site.  Not a plastic egg to be found!  They could have cared less.  Thank goodness for low expectations.  They ran right past all of the candy and straight to their baskets.  As they reveled in their gifts, I sat on the bottom step of our stairs holding tight to the puke bucket, just praying I could at least see them through this part of the morning. 

Then from upstairs in the spare bedroom I hear Jeremy yelling for me.  He is sicker than a dog and has a list of things he needs from me including water, toilet paper, and I'm not sure what else because instead of helping I just yelled back at him that I am sick too and I'm trying to watch the kids do their Easter morning stuff.  Such a lovely wife. 

Halfway through the boys going through their baskets I remember that I should be capturing this fine minute on film.  I grabbed our camera, laid on a throw pillow on the floor and took a few pictures. 

What a bummer of an Easter morning for me, but clearly the boys never noticed the difference!! 

Sassy McSasserson and his sidekick Big Bossy McGee star in The Day After the Flu

The flu has hit the O'Brien household.  And while I am thankful we are downward slope of this fun ride, this place between illness and full recovery has been...well, interesting to say the least.  The combination of weak stomachs, dehydration, exhaustion, low fevers, and cabin fevers = sassy with a capital S.

Fortunately for me, my wonderful husband picked up the first 2 shifts (middle of the night Thursday and work day on Friday) so most of the dirty work...literally DIRTY work...was done by the time I got home from work yesterday. 

This morning started with Leo waking up for all of 10 minutes to get doses of Tylenol and Mickey Mouse before falling back asleep in my bed.  Justin on the other hand woke up with a skip in his step.  He comes bounding up the steps ready to take on the day.  He announced he is hungry.  (ya think??)  Very specifically his announcement of hunger was "Mom, my belly said oink.  Or maybe it's going to throw up, but I think it just said oink."

We headed downstairs where he begged for every possible kind of breakfast.  He had yet to keep any food down except for 3 bites of banana last night so we were going slow.  He even tried to talk me into making blueberry muffins by telling me they are healthy.  "REALLY, they are mom."  But momma ain't in the mood to clean up blueberry vomit today so we stuck to toast. 

We made it through the morning with both boys being relatively low key.  Movies, Leapsters, small snacks.  We even made it through a small lunch of eggs and banana bread.  Very manageable.  Leo took a decent afternoon nap, but Justin just played with his imaginary friends and his stuffed animals in his bed for an hour or so.

And then the afternoon hit.  Seriously, I think it may have actually smacked me upside the head! 

Enter: Sassy McSasserson and his sidekick Big Bossy McGee.  Below is as close as I could get to an exact transcript of their conversation.  I was in the middle of banking but I whipped open a Word document to get this all on paper.  It was THAT good.  I'll admit upfront that I should have stopped this little tirade, but it was too freaking hilarious.

Justin's lack of nap was starting to wear on him.  He was getting very frustrated with his Leapster Wolverine game and so began the meltdown.  And ever the annoying little brother, Leo pounced. 

Leo: I not crying mommy.  Justee crying!! (as he waves his plastic shovel in Justin's face).

Justin: Don't get me with your shovel, Leeee-O.

Leo: Then you aren’t coming to my house!  (his new favorite sassy phrase).

Justin: I’m already at your house.

Leo: Well then OK. FINE.

(Justin mumbles some words of frustration with his Leapster.)

Leo: Quit saying words!  Mom, put Justin to bed.

Me: No, Leo.  And quit sassing.  Justin is just tired.

Leo: Well then YOU are not listening to ME!  (then to Justin in his very best bossy voice and with a wagging finger) YOU don't get to see the hamster at Big Daddy's house (Jeremy's parents).  So never mind!  (then some mumbled I didn't catch)

Me: What was the last part?

Leo: You heard me mom!  And you don't get to go to Big Daddy's house.

Justin: Everyone gets to go to Big Daddy's house!  Even mom gets to go because she is the one who drives. 

and I just start laughing out loud.  The whole conversation is just hilarious, but of course I am offending Justin by laughing at them.

Justin:  MOM. IT'S.  NOT.  FUNNY!  You are hurting my feelings.

So I try to get it under control.  And then Justin resumes Leapster playing for all of about 5 seconds before he gets frustrated again. He reports in a very firm voice that he is giving it away, which for some reason is his new thing.  He wants to give all of his stuff away as some sort of self punishment.  I asked who he will give it to and he says "Gavin.  Yeah, I will just give it to Gavin."  I told him we are not giving away his Leapster and I end up just having to turn the game off.  Which of course causes more of a meltdown.  He is laying on my shoulder sobbing when Leo pipes up again.

Leo:  NO PLAYING!

Justin through his sobs:  We aren't playing Leo.  Does this LOOK like we are playing??  If you don't stop sassing mom then I won't give you a Scooby Doo sticker chart.  I was going to give you one after bedtime next week. 

Leo reverts back to:  You can't come to Big Daddy's house anymore.

Justin: Everyone goes to Big Daddy's house!


Leo: Weeeeelllll, Sammy and Saydie don't go!  (our dogs). 

Oh, he gotcha there Justin!!!

Justin: Well, sometimes they could go.  Right mom?  Because dad said a long, long, looooonnnngggg time ago that Saydie went there and bit one of Grandma E's pillows.  NOW, can I just have my Leapster?  Pu-LEEZ!!!!

So I gave him one more shot at the Leapster.  I tried to talk him into a different game, but to no avail.  Within minutes the tears were back.  It was clear that we were in full meltdown mode.  The no nap, exhaustion from the flu, and cabin fever had reached its peak.  Off to bed he goes. 

By this time his in full fledged freak out.  Bawling and crying.  Refusing to get into his bed or to stay in it when I put him in there.  Somehow I am remaining calm and generally entertained by the whole thing.  I just kept telling him that I know how tired he is from being sick and he will feel better if he just lays down for a nap. 

He replies by screaming and telling me to just take all of his toys and stuffed animals.  (so we are back to the self-punishment).  I politely decline and start walking out of the room and he starts yelling at me to take his piggy banks.  He wants me to throw them in the trash.  And take all of his pictures, the laundry basket, and the basketball goal out and throw them away.  I asked him why we would throw all of his stuff away and he said it was because I am making him go to bed!

I told him to just go to bed and slowly backed out of the room and he yells after me "I don't want you to be my MOM!!!" 

Oh that's just freaking great.  Cuz I'm having a ball here myself!  But I get it.  He is beyond exhausted and just spouting anything that comes to mind.  I shut his door and go downstairs.  Within a few minutes he opens it and sets the stepping stool to his bed outside of his door.  Then yells down to me that I need to take his bed out of his room.  The poor kid was delirious by this point.  I don't think he could even cry anymore.  He was frantically looking around his room for things that I should take out.  I felt so bad for him that I finally just said that I would lay down with him for a few minutes and then when he wakes up we can figure out what items he wants removed from his room.

And somehow that was all he needed to hear because he said OK, crawled in bed, curled up in a ball, and calmed down.  I laid down face to face with him and watched my sweet little 4 year old fall asleep in about 45 seconds.  And the very, very, very best part of my day so far....right before he went to sleep he just looked at my with his heavy eyes and said "Love ya mom." 

Melts my heart!!

We will see what the 2nd half of the day brings.  My plan was to decorate Easter Eggs.  Surely there will be something blog-worthy in that experience!!!

OZ

It's been a whole month since I have blogged. Can this be true?  Where is the time going?  I seem to have writers block so I figured the only way to combat it is to just start writing and see what comes of it. So, let's see what I can pull out of my arse today!
I have said this to some people before, but I find it to be more and more true every day:  I think I am the Wizard of Oz reincarnate. 

Don't laugh.  OK, laugh...that is pretty much the whole point of my blog anyway.  But hear me out. 

I may look like I've got it all under control, but really I am standing behind a curtain pushing various buttons and pulling levers in a great attempt to make life look easy.  But behind the scenes...chaos!! Absolute chaos.  At home.  At work. Anywhere and everywhere I go.  I can't seem to get anything fully accomplished.  I've started several things....including a blog post a few weeks ago that never came together, but I can't see anything all the way through.  Maybe it's more ADD as opposed to O-Z....but the Oz comparison is much more fun!

If only I could click my red sparkly heels and it would all be resolved.  So wait.  Now I am wearing Dorothy's ruby slippers?  Am I part Wizard of Oz, part Dorothy?  Or am I just the Wizard with heels?  Do I have a split personality or am I a cross-dressing Wizard?  That might be a whole other blog entirely!

But, all I really want to be is the Glinda the Good Witch of the South.  And I know what you are all thinking.  The Wicked Witch of the West might be more accurate most of the time.   It's OK.  I embrace my bitchy side.  I own it.  Sometimes I stand in my kitchen or at my desk at work and look into my crystal ball and cast spells on all of you just for my amusement.  I don't mean any real harm.  Not like I am going to drop a house on you.  Or am I?????

But I really want to be Glinda (read in whiny voice).  I really, really want to.  Why can't I be Glinda??  She actually gets things done.  Who wouldn't want to fly around in a bubble in a pretty dress?  The Wizard is a freaking mess that everyone thinks has a lot of power, but likely has one foot planted firmly across the threshold of the loony bin.  Yup, that me. 

Glinda is not only the Good Witch but she doesn't actually do things for Dorothy and her clan.   She just encourages them and points them in the right direction. But not the Wizard.  Oh no.  He has everyone convinced that they can't accomplish anything without him. He creates dependency on his "powers."  Oh wait, that's me AGAIN. 

AND....Glinda has a magic wand.  I need a freakin' magic wand.  Poof the house is cleaned. Poof the record copies and redactions are done.  Poof all of the billing is done for work and home.  Poof my filing is complete.  Poof the laundry is folded and put away.  Yup, I need me a magic wand.  I wouldn't use it for evil.  I swear I wouldn't!!!

But alas, no magic wand to be found in this home.  Instead I will continue to hide behind my curtain feverishly pushing buttons and pulling levers in an attempt to make it all come together each and every day.  One of these days I'm going to drift off in my hot air balloon.  With my luck though it will probably snag on a tree about 3 blocks from home and I'll just end up walking my crazy self back to my own front door.  Ain't nothing on the other side of the rainbow anyway...or so I hear. 

OK, enough blogging for today.  I think I have sufficiently brought myself out of my writers block.  I am waiting for my munchkins to wake up from their naps.  I swear if they come down the stairs kicking their legs and singing "We represent the Lolly Pop kids" I will know I've really lost it.  But more than likely they will be the flying monkeys!  Screeching and flying through the house.  I think I see the beginning of some possible Halloween costumes.

The Return of Pooties

Tonight on the way to Target:

Gwen: Justin, remember your birthday party is tomorrow.

Justin: Yeah, when do I get to change my name?

G: What do you mean?  You mean your age, your number?

J: No, my NAME.  Just listen to me and quit asking questions.

G: OK.  So tell me why you want to change your name? Who do you know that changed their name (clearly I could not refrain from asking questions)

J: Like LJ and Jackson (from daycare)

G: They didn't change their names.  Those are the names their mommy and daddy gave them. Just like we named you Justin.  So you need to keep your name Justin. 

J: Like J-U-S-T-I-N is my name now but what if I had different ones like JAPCSON

G: Who do you know that changed their name? 

J: Pooties (I was shocked.....Pooties, if you don't know, was Justin' imaginary friend from about a year ago.  He has recently reemerged)

G: What was Pooties name before?

J: Sometimes Justin and sometimes Pooties.  He wants to get together next Tuesday (which is Justin's birthday)

G: Oh OK.

J: But  he has to work but he really wants some of my cake.  He wants to know what kind of cake for my birthday.

G: Where has Pooties been?

J: I don't know. Sometimes he disappears when we wake up.

then talking to himself in the back seat:
J: You go to a secret place, aren't you?
P: Uh huh.  I can't tell you.
J: Well I know where you are.

G: Where does he go?

J: Mom, none of your business.  I can't tell you.

Welcome back, Pooties.  We sure have missed you and the excitement and entertainment you bring to our lives!!!!

Dear Nana,

Dear Nana,
As we all gather today to celebrate your 80th birthday, I want you to know that you are the best Nana a girl could ask for.  Not only do I want to be a Nana like you someday, I want to be a reflection of the woman that you are each and every day. 

So aside from the amazing grandmother that you have been and continue to be for each of your 16 grandchildren and 7 great-grandchildren (plus one on the way...and more to come), I want to focus on the role you play for the women and girls in our family. 

This past summer Allison, my mom, and I sat out on mom's back patio and talked about your influence on all of the women in our family.  We talked about how fortunate we are to be well into adulthood and have so many great memories with you. We think every woman and girl in our family wants to be like you.

I have lived with two of your daughters and have spent significant time with the other 2 daughters.  I can't count the number of times I have heard "Nana does it this way" or "this is how Nana taught us to do it."  As an adult woman, I am striving to be successful and more like my mother.....which I know means more like you. 

I don't think I have ever seen you raise your voice.  I have never seen you frazzled.  I have never seen your house dirty.  I have never seen anything but a home cooked meal from scratch. 

I want to be as patient as you.  I want to be as open and welcoming as you are to everyone and especially the boyfriends/girlfriends and wives/husbands of every family member.  I want to be as thoughtful as you are.  I want to be able to fold fitted sheets as well as you can.  I want to be able to pack up a family of 8 for a 2 week vacation with one hand tied behind my back and make it seem like it was a breeze.  I want to give sweet kisses like you do. 

I love you, Nana.  Happy 80th Birthday. 

This will just hurt for a minute

Those of you that know my little sister, Allison, know that she and I are a lot alike.  We look a lot alike despite the 4 inch height difference.  For the first few years she was in Alabama everyone called her Gwen.  And now if I go back to visit everyone calls me Allison.  Aside from looks, we have the same sense of humor and quick wit. 

So it is with honor, and her permission, that I share her story.  It's a story of pain and suffering.  Of tears.  Of gasping for breath.  A story of resourcefulness.  A story of....well.....it's just damn funny, really. 

Allison is a bit of a world traveler.  And not the kind that sits on beaches and sips on fruity drinks...although I would put money that she has done her fair share of that too.  No, she is the kind that goes to small villages in Russia, or war-torn countries, or God knows where else.  I can't keep up.  Let's just say she can hold her own.  Her quick wit and her love of languages makes her a force to reckon with here and across any ocean.

As she prepared for her most recent venture, she was packing her odds and ends.  Mind you, Allison can travel by train across Russia for two weeks in the winter with one small suitcase so I use the term "packing odds and ends" loosely.

She comes across the pepper spray that she can hook to her key chain.  She thinks "gee, I've had this for years and never had to use it.  I wonder if it even works anymore."  And so my extremely bright and resourceful younger sister positions herself in the far back corner of her small one bedroom apartment in Washington DC.  And she sprays a very small stream right into the corner. 

But wait!  What is this?  It does not just spray into the corner.  The dang thing has a range of about two feet to either side.  Suddenly the whole room fills with pepper spray smell.  Stinging her eyes; burning her nose.  So she runs to the living room and opens up the small window.  She sticks her face out into the cold air and takes a few big gulps.  She is huddled in one small corner trying to breath the fresh air while her entire apartment fills up with pepper spray. 

She blindly feels around for anything to cover her face.  Her hand brushes across her silk pashmina scarf.  So she wraps it around her mouth and nose, uses her glasses as a shield for her eyes, and scurries around the tiny little apartment opening the kitchen window. 

Back to the living room window for a few deep breaths of fresh air.  Then once again makes a mad dash to the bathroom window.  One might have thought to open the window BEFORE spraying, but we live and learn.  Maybe next time. 

It was hours before the apartment was livable again.  Fortunately she was leaving anyway.  She is pretty sure there will still be a slight sting in the air when she returns.

So there it is, my friends.  Allison's story of pain and suffering.  Of tears. Of resourcefulness.  I guess even clever world travelers have their blonde moments!

Things I heard today.

* Did you forget daycare was closed today?- Ellan, after I turned up at her door with 2 children

* Not on the wall!  Not on the wall! -Jeremy to Leo after he gave him the small hammer

* after smiles and an "I love you" Mom, I colored on the plate.  Justin


* I neeeeeed my mommy -Leo, of course

* I'm really tired of picking up toys -Justin

* Well, maybe you should be paying attention so you don't do that! -Justin to me after I accidentally erased one of the Batman cartoons from our DVR

* What a BUMMER! -Leo while he stamps his foot on the ground

* Nuthin' but bones. Nuthin' -Justin's  new favorite phrase.  Not sure where he learned it.

* I locked my f***ing keys in my car!  I'm pretty sure we all know who said this :)

* Can we watch Pirates of the Quesadilla? -Justin

* What's for dinner? (and various other funny questions) - about 15 of my friends who agreed to go along with my little joke on Jeremy and call him within a span of about 30 minutes to ask what he was making for dinner while I was at gymnastics with Leo. 

* Guys.  It's a secret.  I am Batman.  No one can know.  Have we got ourselves a plan? - whispered by Justin at dinner

* Wait for it.  Wait for it.  -Justin