Turkey Candles

Everything has been a blur since Sandy crashed a couple of weeks ago. Halloween was “rescheduled” and now I look at the calendar to see that Thanksgiving is NEXT WEEK! How the hell did that happen?

Anyway, I was putting away the Halloween decorations the other day and came across something that always makes me smile – my Grandma’s turkey candles.

Grandma had decorations for all the “major” holidays – Christmas, Easter &  Thanksgiving. Grammer was not allowed to go “all out” with decorating since Grandpa was a bit OCD but still she put out what she could depending on what the holiday was.

Gram was not a fancy decorator. She didn’t care  about Lenox or fancy crystal chachkies . No, Christmas at her house guaranteed the plug-in Christmas tree, a manger scene, some holiday doilies, a fake poinsettia for the kitchen table (along with a plastic Xmas table-cloth and place mats) and at least one Santa pot holder hanging from a kitchen cabinet handle.

Easter was Easter Bunny dish towels and some other Bunny stuff scattered throughout the house mixed in with a cross and/or Jesus since it was a religious holiday.

Thanksgiving was more low-key for Gram. There were the obligatory table-cloth and place mats and the occasional plastic cornucopia and maybe a turkey dishtowel but that was usually it –  except for the turkey candles.

These candles looked exactly how you would imagine them too – medium-sized, turkeys in gold and brown. Gram would put them out either on the kitchen table or on the radiator behind the kitchen table (it had this covering over it that made it look more like a bench).

I can remember sitting at the table drinking tea and eating graham crackers (a staple at Gram’s house) making fun of her turkey candles. I wasn’t being serious, just teasing her (something my brother and I ALWAYS did). Gram looked at me, in her flowered shirt, angel pin affixed on upper right hand side and said Stop it Nikki…my candles are cute!

She wasn’t a mushy, huggy-kissy kind of grandma, she was more a tell it like it is, give it right back at you grandma.

She LOVED to be out – whether it be the mall or Atlantic City and would spend any extra money she had on new curtains (always beige) or a top from Sterns. She LOVED Oprah (never call her at 4pm) and Jerry “Stein-feld” and would hide copies of the Star and National Enquirer under the couch cushions.

Gram did not take crap from anyone – including me. Unnecessary drama annoyed her and she could usually see right through someone. There were numerous times when I would hug her and say You are THE best Grandma! only to have her reply What do you want Nikki (with a smirk and a laugh).

She was a great shopping partner and you could always count on her to go with you to the diner for coffee or lunch. You also knew if you were bored, you could call her up or pick her up no questions asked (usually).

Gram has been gone over 11 years now and I think of her often. Usually something will spark a memory for me or my mom will say something that sounds very “Rose-like.”

I was the only grandchild she saw get married back in 2000. Now, all 5 of us have been married and 4 of us have kids of our own (I win for most kids).

When I found the turkey candles, I got sad. Maybe it was the Sandy aftermath, the insane kids downstairs or pms but I started to cry a little as I held the funny looking candles.

I kept thinking about Gram and how I could always ask her opinion on things because she was always honest – no sugar-coating EVER! I wonder what she would say to all the “drama” I have endured these past couple months (some of which was self-produced) and all the “stuff” I have fallen for and put up with?

Gram would probably tell me to knock it off, move on and tell the people who have hurt or disappointed me to Go Scratch! She would say that life is too short and to just enjoy it and stop worrying.

Why is that advise always easier said than done?? Ugh.

The turkey candles are now proudly displayed on my mantle. The kids were SO excited when they saw them and asked where I got them. I told them that they belonged to Mommy’s Wawa (they call my mom “Wawa”) and one of the twins pointed to her picture on the table which made me smile and tear up at the same time.

For Gram’s sake I will TRY to stop being so gullible (which is out of character for me anyway) and to stop making mountains out of mole hills (Mrs. Jeter will appreciate this too). I will also TRY to put an end to unnecessary drama because really,  why bother? Lord knows my house has enough drama of its own to last me a lifetime!

However, I do have one last request of Gram.

Grammer, can you PLEASE give me a sign of some sort, something to let me know that everything will be ok?? If you could make it an easy sign to spot, that would also be good - thanks you are THE best grandma ever! (LOL).

My Kingdom for…..a cleaning lady

When I was younger one of my favorite shows to watch was The Brady Bunch. It was fascinating to see these 2 families blend together so nicely and live happily ever after.

The Brady Girls were skinny,  pretty and popular (well not so much Jan) and the Brady Men were cute, athletic and popular  – except Peter when he went through puberty and had the voice changing episode – but I digress.

Mrs. Brady was the poster-girl for “THE Perfect Wife” and always managed to have a smile on her face and dinner on the table for Mr. Brady when he got home from a rough day at the office. Carol was always dressed in the most stylish outfits, even for bed,  and never had a hair out-of-place – even when she was sporting that horrible mullet.

 Mr. Brady was tall and handsome, had a good job and loved his family. He rarely raised his voice and was always able to solve any dilemma in under 30 minutes.

However, one of the most underrated characters on that show had to be Alice the Maid Extraordinaire! Alice wore a uniform and seemed to always be helping Mrs. Brady cooking, shopping or packing the kids’ lunches. Alice did laundry and vacuumed and never wanted for a day off – occasionally an evening for a date with Sam the Butcher but that was it.

Everyone wanted their family to be like The Brady Bunch and more importantly everyone wanted their very own Alice.

Back then I didn’t understand what Alice did, I thought she was just a member of the family who happened to wear a uniform. After all, she went to all the kids’ activities and even got a trip to the Grand Canyon and Hawaii.

As I got older, and was assigned chores, I came to understand Alice’s role more and how important someone like she was to a household. I am sure Marcia and Cindy NEVER had to scrub a toilet or clean out the dryer lint tray. Carol never had to take out the trash or change sheets on all those beds and I think it is a safe assumption that the Brady Boys didn’t scrub the bathroom tiles.

When I first got married and the husband and I lived in our tiny apartment, cleaning was not a big deal. Our apartment was 3 rooms and we weren’t home during the day so it was never that messy. Also, I was in the “newlywed phase” and cleaning and cooking were all part of playing house.

I got to use my new state-of-the-art-vacuum and all the other goodies I had stressed over and carefully registered for at Fortunoffs and Linens and Things.

After a couple of years the husband and I made the “big” move to our tiny townhouse. Now there were more rooms to clean and 2 dogs to clean up after. We had our own washer and dryer so laundry was now an everyday occurence and not something that was saved up to take up north on a visit to Mom’s house.

Then the kids came and overnight my house began resembling a frat house. There were mounds of laundry and toys all over. The bathrooms were always covered in toothpaste and rather than wash the windows I chose to close the blinds. The husband and I accepted that we were just dirty people.

What choice did we have? There are only so many hours in a day and no matter how many hours I spent cleaning, the kids destroyed my hard work in minutes.

I complained, sucked it up (a little) and moved on.  

Then ALL my friends, and even my brother, got a cleaning lady. This fascinated me since the only maid I knew of was Alice and my friends did not seem to be as well off as the Brady family.

Apparently it was the new “in-thing” to have a woman come to your house 1-2 times a month to do a “good clean” and more importantly scrub your bathrooms until the fixtures shined. (the fact that you clean BEFORE she arrives is irrelevant)

I was completely and utterly envious of my friends and family. I wanna a cleaning lady!!! I would whine to the husband and my mother – neither of whom seemed to care.

I tried my hardest to find a way to get a cleaning lady but it was just not meant to be. I keep telling myself someday my Fairy Godmother will answer my wish, wave that wand and BAM! get me my very own Alice  – heck at this point I would  take Sam the Butcher.

I am SO tired of cleaning toilets and doing laundry and washing sippy cups. Any down time I have is spent picking up matchbox cars and cramming Lego pieces into plastic containers.

When I was little, never did I think my Saturday mornings would be spent lugging a vacuum up the stairs or getting on my hands and knees to actually vacuüm each  step.

I never dreamed my children would constantly miss the potty or leave the bathtub filthy after their baths. It is unbelieveable the amount of crumbs and juice cups 4 kids can accumulate in a 12-hour period!

Fair Godmother, if you are listening,  PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE help me. PLEASE wave that wand or sprinkle me with fairy dust or put some magic spell on me,  ANYTHING to get me a cleaning lady. I am not picky, I dont even care she’s good, so long as the toilets are clean!

Until then I guess my only consolation if that the boys are getting older and they have started to help me more around the house. They think it’s “fun” to help me load the dishwasher or take out the trash. They have NO idea what I have planned

I will survive – right?

You Can Do It Lake Huron Beach Oscoda Trip 9-25-09 16 (Photo credit: stevendepolo)

Here it is after 9pm, on a school night (literally) and I am sitting here with my stomach in knots. There are a million other things I could, or should, be doing but instead I am staring at the computer and picking at my cuticles (and singing Gloria Gaynor to myself).

Why have I made myself a mental case you may ask? Promise not to laugh? Well tomorrow is a big day here. The twins start kindergarten AND take the bus to school. J starts 4yo pre-k in a new ASD classroom with a new teacher AND L has a “playground get together” AND a “classroom open house” for his pre-k class (which also means I have to meet a bunch of new moms too).

Ugh!!! It’s just too much!!

Ok, ok I know the kids will all be fine. I know it will take a little adjustment and before long this new routine will seem like old hat but, for now, it’s making me a wreck.

I decided to separate the twins for kindergarten and this is the first time in their entire lives that they will not have each other to lean on all day (technically it’s 2.5 hours but still). They will have to rely on themselves to make friends and find their way and this scares the crap out of me!!

What if I didn’t teach them all the right things? What if they get picked on? What will happen if J gets hurt or can’t find his way back to the bus? What will happen if M tries to talk to someone and they ignore him? Suppose one of their “bus buddies” is mean?

These are the things that are going through my mind and this is just with the twins. Don’t even get me started on J and L.

J’s school has decided that he is “ready” for a more structured classroom setting complete with more kids, a new room AND a new teacher. Seriously?

When I mentioned how this will be a big adjustment for him, since he has only known 1 classroom for the past 15 months, the staff told me ”change is good for J” and ”he can’t be too set in a routine” and “after all, he will LOVE this”

Really?! How do we know? It’s not like we can just ask him Hey J, do you want to be in a class with 10 kids and sit in rows and do lessons? Would you love that? 

He is 4 and a boy and has autism. Enough said.

L’s situation tomorrow really won’t be that bad. It’s more me I am worried about. I HATE meeting new moms on the playground. It makes me feel like I am 15, standing in the cafeteria looking for a seat (although I had the same seat at the same table in high school all 4 years).

The Playground Moms will all be younger, prettier and definitely thinner than me. Their kids will be well-behaved and greet the teacher with a hardy Good Morning upon entering the playground.

I, however, will be praying that L does NOT hit anyone or throw a tantrum while simultaneously thinking I should have worn another pair of pants because I look fat. 

I tried to share my feeling with the husband and my mom today. Neither made me feel any better. Mom asked me when I would have “time to socialize” with the other moms and the husband couldn’t remember what kids were actually starting school, let alone what time the buses would come.

I know, I know, I am being totally dramatic (aren’t I supposed to cut out the drama in my life??) and making tomorrow into a bigger deal than it is.

The twins are going to be fine. Just like they were fine at orientation and summer camp and pre-k. J will adjust to school just like he did last year and L, well… let’s just keep our fingers crossed that L is in a good mood tomorrow.

As for me, I have no idea if I will ever be “fine.” For now I can just hope for the best and believe that 1) I will survive the meeting of the moms - heck, maybe I will even make a “mom-friend” and 2) I will survive the twins getting on the bus (without me) and leaving to start a their new adventure in kindergarten (without me).

All I can really do is just have faith in what I have tried to teach them these past 6 years and hope that they were able to retain at least a little bit.

Tomorrow will be stressful, nerve-wracking and exciting. I will do my best to get through it with a smile (at least in front of the kids) and take lots of pictures.

Wish me luck!

My own brand of TLC

English: TLC Logo Português: TLC Logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I come from a long line of “glass is half empty” kind of people. I am sure, if I tried, I would be able to trace this trait waaaaay back to some Italian ancestors living back in the Old Country. It’s not like we are Debbie Downers with everything, we like babies, weddings and a good sale as much as the next person. However, doctors, tests or sickness bring out our very best negative energy.

Such was the case a couple of weeks ago when my mom whispered to me that she saw “spots” when she closed her left eye. Mom was convinced she had a tumor while I told her to just keep her eyes open (compared to my immediate family I am Suzy Sunshine). Mom ignored my advise and saw an eye doctor – who referred her to an eye specialist who sent her to the Wills Eye Hospital in Philadelphia.

Not good. Mom’s negative thoughts were out in full force and it didn’t take long before she had self-diagnosed herself – she had a tumor, would die AND go blind. I calmly explained that if she died it wouldn’t matter if she were blind but that was met with a death stare.

Well Mom’s “spots” were actually a melanoma that would require the insertion of radiation “seeds” IN her eye. In know, W-T-F right? The only plus to this situation was that Mom’s hypocondriac-ness got the melanoma caught early and she would be fine. Still the words melanoma and my mom did not go well together so we waited (with a dark cloud over our heads) until the day of Mom’s procedure.

Mom needed to be in Philadelphia at 6am this past Thursday, so at 5am me, mom and bro piled into his Jeep Cherokee and made the trip into the city. Mom and bro were very nervous and attempted some tense small talk in the car and before long we were at Wills. As Mom filled out paperwork I chatted about the break up of KPatt and asked Mom if she wanted me to take pictures with my phone to document her “trip” in Phila.

Before long Mom was called back for pre-op and it was my job to distract her while the nurse and doctors prepped her. For most daughters this would probably entail holding their mom’s hand, being really nice and telling her it was all going to be ok. For me, however, it meant making fun of her to the nurse, asking where all the McDreamys and McSteamys were and advising the anesthesiologist that Mom’s fear of anesthesia stemmed from watching too many episodes of ER and Chicago Hope.

When Mom was in recovery and me and bro went to see her the first thing I did was make fun of her pirate bandage and ask if I could take her picture. Later on when she was settled at her hotel (insurance won’t pay for a hospital stay) I propped Mom up in her bed and let her watch HGTV all day. I brought her meds and ginger ale and  offered her all the Percocet and Ativan a girl could ask for (she refused both).

This morning I made Mom go to breakfast in the hotel restaurant (with her pirate patch) and even got her to take a walk to the Readington Terminal Market (even though the “rules” said she was not to leave the room). We ate candy and ice cream and watched Baby Story all afternoon and every once in a while I would even make fun of her hair.

I have to leave Mom tomorrow and go back to my chaotic, crazed life. My aunt will be taking over my “nursing” duties and watching Mom until her second procedure on Monday. Some people may not agree with my “nursing” style. They may think hugs and back rubs work better than sarcasm and jokes but not for me and not for us.

Mom is in much better spirits today and I would like to think my nursing skills are to thank. I will have to call and send her sarcastic texts so it will be like I am still here with her. After all, isn’t that what daughters are for?

Maybe Life is a Beach after all

Over Memorial Day the husband and I attempted to take the kids to the beach. The in-laws live on LBI and that is “what you do” on Memorial Day right? Our day at the beach was stressful and annoying and I swore I would not attempt a beach trip again for a very long time.

Fast forward to this past Friday night. I was making some returns at The Loft (don’t you love price adjustments?) and I had this nagging feeling in the back of my head that I needed to come up with something for the kids to do on Saturday. The twins had been out of school a week and by 4pm Friday they were bored, hot, tired and sick of playing with their brothers.

Hmmmm, what to do?? The husband was off from work (a rarity) and it was supposed to be nice out. I know – let’s go to the beach! I came home and told the husband my idea and he just stared at me. You want to go to the beach on a Saturday? It will take all day to get down Route 72 on a Saturday in June are you insane? was his response.

No wait, I have an idea. We will leave for LBI after lunch this way we will miss the turnover traffic and if we take the kids to the beach later in the afternoon, it won’t be as crowded and hot. We can even bring the kids pjs and bathe and change them at your mom’s and then when they fall asleep in the van we can carry them up to bed.  It’s win-win for everyone!!

So there we were around 2pm on Saturday heading to LBI. There was barely any traffic and we were able to get there under 2 hours (with 2 stops). The kids settled in and had some juice boxes before we headed over to the beach. You would have thought we were going to be gone for a week with the amount of stuff we crammed in the beach cart - chairs, an umbrella, towels, drinks and enough toys for every kid on the beach.

We headed up the beach path and when we reached the top it was amazing the beach was empty! OMG we not only had our pick of beach spots but the kids had the run of the beach. They could run, throw sand and scream and it wouldn’t bother anyone (except maybe the cute couple sharing a blanket not too far from us).

Dare I say it was one of the best beach days I ever had. I was able to sit in a chair and just watch the kids in amazement. How can it be that I have kids? I remember spending hours, alone in my beach chair, carefully calculating the best angle for tanning with my only worries being if I remembered my book or that the umbrella would fly away if I fell asleep. Now here I was sitting in a beach chair with wheels (my in-laws chairs) watching 4 crazy boys run all over the beach like they had been locked away in windowless room their entire life.

On the ride home that night I thought about the day in shock. We were able to take the kids to the beach AND have a good time AND have no drama?? WOW wonders never cease do they?!

I am sure the next time we head to LBI it as perfect but a girl can dream.

Pomp and Circumstance

Today is the day my twin “babies” graduate from Pre-K and WOW is all I can say.

Looking at the 2 of them now, it seems hard to beleive (well sort of) that 3 years ago these were the same 2 little boys who hid behind the door at their 1 day/week class at the Y for 6 weeks straight or who cried and ran away from the van when I said it was time to leave for their first day of school at CPNS.

I remember the first day of pre-K and how J ran into the room crying – right into the arms of Mrs. M – oh how my heart broke!

Here we are 2 years later and they have grown SO much. The 2 little, shy boys, I thought would NEVER be ready for “big boy school,” are now 2 handsome “big” boys excited to ride the bus and go to kindergarten!

I am a nervous wreck about kindergarten. Will they make friends? Will they get teased? Will they be ok on the bus? But I guess that is just to be expected since I am their mommy and they are my first borns (at least I have until September to worry).

I am a little sad that my babies are growing up but I am also happy and excited for them to start this next chapter. Hopefully I will not be sobbing during the “End of Year” celebration today – then again it is my job to embarrass them in front of their friends.

Congratulations M&J Mommy is SOOOOOO proud!!

The Husband’s Mother

Wedding rings Português: Anéis de Noivado / Casamento (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Ahhhh the stories and blogs I could share with you about my mother-in-law!! I could fill volumes of books about the woman who gave birth to the husband. It is a complicated relationship between a wife and mother-in-law. The MIL is the first woman in a husband’s life. She was his g0-to-person, the one who nursed his boo boos and chased away the monsters from his bad dreams. She raised him and made him into the man that he is today.  

It must be hard to then be “replaced” by a wife. I know a  mother can never be completely replaced but when a wife comes into the picture, she suddenly becomes the go-to-person. She is now the one the “boy” shares his hopes and dreams with, the one who will support and comfort him and eventually create a family with him.

How can a MIL not feel some sort of power struggle with the wife, especially if the wife is the first one among her 3 sons?

Welcome to my world.  I have been with the husband for 15 years, married for almost 12. He is the oldest of 3 boys and was the first to get engaged and married. To say his mom and I have not always had the best relationship would be putting it mildly.

In the beginning it was great, we were as sweet as pie to each other. We would laugh and tell stories with each other and even buy each other little gifts for no reason. I desperately wanted this woman to like me, maybe love me, and think that I was THE BEST thing to happen to her son and family. I tried my best to live up to her expectations of a “good wife” but I don’t think I ever met them. Honestly, I don’t think anyone could, including herself.

Our relationship can best be described as a roller coaster ride, with extreme highs and lows. I thought once I had kids our relationship could change, now she would have grandchildren (4 boys no less) to spoil and carry on the family name. Things have changed but it is not the bliss I dreamed it would be. With kids came LOTS of unsolicited advice which was not always appropriate. 

After all these years I would like to think that the MIL and I have reached a level in our relationship that comes with some comfort, respect and civility.  I know that she is not going anywhere and by now she knows that I am not either. We both love her son and her grandchildren and know that they will always connect us. It is not a perfect relationship but it is what it is and I try not to complain too much (try being the operative word) but no one is perfect right?

When the husband and I got engaged my MIL would sign my birthday cards love. When we were newlyweds she signed my birthday card The Husband’s Mother and Father and this year my card (which was early) simply had my in-laws first names on it with no signature whatsoever.

At first I was HIGHLY insulted and complained to my mom and Mrs. Jeter. How could she not put anything after all these years, not even a fondly??  I whined.  Mrs. Jeter and my mom both told me I was asking for too much and that I should just be happy to have gotten a card. Wasn’t it better to not have some fake “love” or “fondly” attached. They were right but I still huffed and puffed and threw the card on the counter. I even tried to start a fight with the husband over it (very mature of me I know).

Now as I sit here (when I should be working) I think it’s fine that she didn’t add a fake signature. I need to really accept our “relationship” for what it is and be done with it. Life is too short to waste time and energy on things like birthday cards and now that I am approaching 40 I need to let it go. One day the boys will have wives or partners and I wouldn’t want them to fight over me (even though I am THE perfect mom!).

That being said, please cut me some slack because this is WAY easier said than done and it will take LOTS of time!!!!!!!

Rainy days and Mondays ALWAYS get me down…

Rain Umbrella 01 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I was all set today to blog about my “date” last week with the IS Guy but I have decided to save that for another day. It’s raining, it’s Monday, it’s cold out  and I just spilled coffee down my pants (which were just cleaned btw) UGH!! What is it about Mondays????

My weekend was busy but good. Friday I was asked to take part on a parent panel at an autism symposium.  I have been on parent panels before but never have I had to sit on a stage with a microphone. Although I was nervous, the fear quickly subsided once I answered my first question.

Overall the symposium was great and I feel lucky to have been a part of it. One of the speakers, Ari Ne’eman, cofounder of  the Autistic Self Advocacy Network, was inspiring and his talk made me question how I view autism and what my goals are for J. 

Saturday was full of errands and Sunday was my surprise “linner” (lunch/dinner) thrown by my mom, aunt and sister-in-law. My birthday is next month but they insisted, despite my protests,  that I have some sort of surprise factor for my big day. The surprise was nice (it was just family) but I could have done without the plastic necklace they made me wear.

And here we are today on a rainy Monday. When my alarm went off an hour early I should have known the day would be less than perfect. J was NOT happy to be dressed and out the door for his weekly OT session and  he and L had come to blows several times over the 1 balloon left over from the party yesterday.

On my way into work I couldn’t help but think how today would have been the perfect sleep-lay-in-bed-pjs kind of day (like those days ever exist in my house!)  I blasted Adele and forged on ahead.

Now here I am at my desk, completely unmotivated, in coffee stained pants and a black camisole with deodorant smeared across the front (a good look if you haven’t tried it). The rain has frizzed my hair a little but I guess I can look on the bright side, in a little over 2 hours I can eat lunch and in 6 hours I can go home!!

Whenever it rains on a Monday I ALWAYS think of The Carpenter’s song “Rainy Days and Mondays”. How I know this song is beyond me. It came out before I was born and I only know the chorus but thanks to Google, I was able to look up the lyrics and Karen was not a happy camper when she wrote this. Still I think these words are appropriate for this Monday

… Hangin’ around
Nothing to do but frown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down.

Happy Monday friends, I hope I have not depressed you too much (lol)! Before we know it, it will be Tuesday and hopefully to quote Annie …the Sun will come out tomorrow….

Yes I am TOO sexy for my minivan

Plymouth Grand Voyager minivan. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My first car was a 1995 white Plymouth Neon.  Neons had just come out and it was SUPER exciting to FINALLY have a car at the age of 22. No more begging friends/family to drive me places or let me borrow their car. Never again would I have to sit in my friend R’s basement and hear OK, who wants to drive her home tonight?

The Neon was great, it got awesome gas mileage and was good to me for years. Around 2000 “she” hit 100,000 miles and started to get “sick” and the husband and I realized it was time to let her go. No worries, I got another Neon except this one was a Dodge Neon and it was silver AND it had power locks and windows (I was living the high life). I loved my Neon and she loved me.

When I became pregnant with the twins in 2005 people immediately asked if I would be trading in the Neon for an SUV. Hell no!! Two car seats will totally fit in the Neon and the trunk is huge. Believe it or not the car seats did fit AND we had packing the trunk down to a science. We could even make a BJ’s run and cram it all in the car. We were happy, life was good.

Then came 2008 and I found myself pregnant again. No way were 3 car seats going to fit in the Neon it was time to upgrade. My first thought was SUV, NO WAY would I let the M-word enter my mind, I would NOT drive a minivan!! The husband and I started to price SUV’s and it became clear I was going to have to look into a minivan – YUCK!

I was in denial for weeks and wouldn’t discuss it. The husband did all the research and would come home with brochures and talk about things like “stow and go seating” and “automatic doors” and “trunk space” like that would make any difference to me.  How could I ever drive a minivan??!! It was huge and boxy and just screamed Mom On Board.

March 2008 the husband drove home our brand new 2009 Town and Country Minivan with the stow and go seats (it was one of the saddest days of my life). The twins were THRILLED and couldn’t get inside fast enough. I was 7 months pregnant and miserable. I refused to drive it and pouted. The husband told me it drove like a dream, bragged about its comfort and showed everyone the trunk space (just what a girl cares about). My friends who had minivans told me I would “love it” and would appreciate the  automatic doors when it rained. NEVER!

In a last-ditch attempt to make me accept the van, the husband upgraded the radio and installed some touch screen radio/cd/dvd player. Yipee, now I could blast my top 40 music in a van with the windows down – that screamed “cool mom”.

Eventually I gave in and drove the van (we had gotten rid of the Neon so I had no choice). Time went on and we added another car seat  to the van and portable dvd players hung from the seats. It was a total kid-friendly minivan and I was its principle driver.  I would make excuses not to have to drive friends or co-workers though because inevitably they would look in the back and say “WOW you have 4 car seats?!”

The van has been good to us (mostly). It gets pretty good gas mileage and I can fit a lot in the trunk. The automatic doors have even helped to wrangle in the kids from time to time. As much as I like the can, however, I will NEVER love it. There is just too much baggage associated with it and a stigma attached to being an owner of one.

People judge you before you exit the vehicle. They assume you are a mom with a ponytale, sporting a jogging outfit, carrying a big diaper bag with screaming kids in tow. Forget ever trying to look “cool” in it. Nothing is more pathetic than blasting music (even if it is cool music) in a van, with the windows down, at a traffic light.

I am told that eventually, when the boys get older, I can trade the van in for a  vehicle with 3 rows. Unfortunately, kids in NJ seem to be in a booster seat until they are teens (or at least that is what it feels like) so for now I will just envy the non-van drivers I see on the road and wonder if they know how lucky they are.

Honey, I “forgot” to feed the kids lunch today

French bread sandwich with fries. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I don’t leave the husband alone with the 4 kids all that often. There are food-shopping trips on a Sunday or a Target run but that is never more than an hour or two so it’s not a big deal.  If I know I will be gone longer I try to do as much as I can before I leave (feed/dress kids, crock pot, etc) to ensure it’s an easy day for both the husband and me.

Today I was meeting a friend for lunch and I knew I would be gone at least 3-4 hours. It was a sunny Saturday so I figured the husband would just play around with the kids outside most of the morning. The boys were THRILLED that daddy was home from work today. I dressed the younger kids and made sure everyone had breakfast before I left.

Lunch was great. It was so fun to be out with another adult who is funny, smart and interesting. We chatted away about everything from playdates to baby showers to whether a bridesmaid dress can ever be re-used (NO!). Apparently we were having a little too much fun because after 2 hours, our waitress (with the bright purple eyeshadow) told us we had to leave because we were taking up her table (you can imagine the tip that remark earned her).

I was in a good mood on the way home and decided to stop for margarita mix. I texted the husband to see if he needed anything. Thinking he would say beer you can imagine my surprise when I got this as a response

yes, lunch for kids

Huh? It was 2pm, how  could the kids not have eaten lunch by 2?! My blood pressure rose as I drove home after making a stop at DD for munchkins (the lunch of champions). The kids ran up to me and the munchkins like they had been on a deserted island without food or water for months.

I thought I would try a new approach with the husband. Instead of pouncing when I saw him, I handed him an iced coffee and asked how his day was. As he sipped the ice coffee I asked how exactly it was that the kids had not eaten, by now it was 2:30. His response was very matter of fact, Oh, I forgot and they wanted to wait for you to get home.

Ok here is my problem, how do you “forget” to feed 4 boys lunch? Maybe if the kids were infants the husband could forget what time a bottle was due or that the baby could have applesauce. However, when you have 4 boys who range in age from 5-2, how do you just “forget” to feed them? The husband remembers to feed himself. I met him when he was 30 and he was not starving by any means. He remembers to feed himself  lunch at work and he is capable of getting a beer from the fridge so it can’t be a physical problem.

I started to worry that there was something wrong with the husband.  He is older than me, could he be losing his mind? Can you get Alzheimer’s at his age?  Worried I confided in my friends and was SHOCKED by what they told me.  Their husbands do the same thing – they “forget” to feed their children, and even change a diaper, while they are out!

OMG it’ s an epidemic among husband and fathers!! What should we as moms and wives do? Is there a pill they can take or a class that will “remind” them to feed their children? Do we try to get a government grant to study this problem and see if there is a cure?

I am going to think about this a little more. I guess for now I will just have to prep the kids to remind daddy to feed them if mommy isn’t home, after all the kids NEVER have a problem telling me that they are hungry/thirsty. I’ll keep you posted on my progress