Caved

“There's where you went wrong, sweetheart.” said my mom.

My mom, dad, brother, LL and I were on our way home from a Tigers game. Lakeland had entertained us for the almost three hour trip to Detroit, was perfect through nine innings, and had finally lost her shit once we were in the car headed home.

I knew she was tired, and I knew that she was going to continue ramping up the level of cranky until she either a) fell asleep or b) I could distract her.

And so...I caved. I did. I gave Lakeland my phone to play with and man OH man, was she happy. Day in and day out, Lakeland begs to play with my phone, only to be rebuffed. But not this time! This time, mommy caved.

I let her play with the phone for a few minutes, and then, gingerly, I took it away. “All done, peanut.” I cooed at her. And she looked at me as if I'd ripped off her ear and started screaming. And screaming. And screaming. She screamed bloody murder for the next 15 minutes. Which is a long time when you are in a car. I tried talking to her in a soft, motherly voice. I sang her favorite Ella Fitzgerald songs to her. I stroked her hair. Not impressed with my efforts, she continued screaming.

Lakeland finally screamed herself into dreamland, and I looked at my mom, seated on the other side of LL's carseat, and shrugged. “I never give her my phone”, I said sheepishly.

“There's where you went wrong, sweetheart.” said my mom.

“I know, I know. I caved. And I never cave!!” I declared. “I seriously haven't caved since, well, the last time I caved.”

Similar situation. We'd been out to dinner with friends, and LL was tired and stuck in the car. Seth and I were traveling back to our friend's house, and somewhat unfamiliar with the area. Which is why I busted out the GPS. And then Lakeland started to cry and I promptly handed over our navigation tool. Duh.

Happy as a clam in the backseat, Lakeland worked on rerouting us to the nearest Gymboree, absolutely delighted with the constantly changing screen, the arrows, and the woman that repeated “recalculating”. How fun for her!

Behind the steering wheel, Seth's face was kind of steely. I figured out waaaayyy too late that it was a horrible idea to give LL the GPS, but I couldn't help smirking at the “beep, beep, beep, 'recalculate', beep, beep, turn left in 200 feet” ,combined with Lakeland's absolute squeals of joy from the backseat.

Here's a kind of breakdown of the conversation between Seth and I:

Seth (with a touch of sarcasm): It might have been wise to not give her the GPS.

Me (outright sarcastically): Well, she's not crying.

Seth: Right. And...we don't know where we're going.

Me (hopeful): You kind of know where you're going, right?

Seth: No, not really. Can you get the GPS back from her please?

Lakeland (reconfiguring our route): Weeeeeeeee!!! Oooooohhhhhhhhhh!!

Me: Nope.

Seth (mumbling what sounded like a transcript from the dad on "A Christmas Story"): AUGH, you blurt rattle trash camel flirt, you blawter prattle sheet gerbil! Omma bomb sack botta saratta, bottom cotta botta, rotta! Billy wam wadger! Drop dom fraud hostical!

Me (because I'm an asshole): Are we there yet?

Full Name Invoked

the sad, soggy faces of lakeland's friends after being fed an unexpected lunch...

Two months ago (it's taken that long for me to mostly recover from the following experience), I invoked, in that unmistakable "mom tone", my daughter's full name. I could hear my mother's voice feathered in my own as I blurted out "Lakeland J Weinburger!".

I could hardly believe what I saw. I was astounded. Shocked. Appalled. All that. What had happened was so awful that, as soon as Seth got home that afternoon, I wordlessly took my laptop to my room, closed the door, loaded up old episodes of Roseanne (shut up, I love that show - don't judge), and ate ice cream.  Straight from the carton.

I thought it was just my good luck that Lakeland was taking a 3 hour long nap - a rookie mistake. There wasn't a peep from her room for so long that I had started to worry. I finally, slowly turned the door knob and peeked my head in, expecting to find my little angel asleep. And there she was. Covered from head to toe in "the majority of my diet for the last 7 days has been blueberries" poop.

Covered. There was black poop on and in: her mouth, hair, nose and ears. It was between her fingers and her toes...all twenty digits caked. Stuck in nail beds as if she'd been giving herself a manure manicure and a poop pedicure. She'd fed feces to Curious George, Winnie the Pooh, and Mr. Goatface, spread shit on Dr. Suess's beloved Whaley. She'd bookmarked each of her favorite reads. She'd flung dung on her gorgeous, treasured quilt. She'd defiled sheets and super fluffy shaggy WHITE lamb shaped pillow. Smudged each rung of the crib and surrounding walls.


I just stood there. Mouth agape. Lakeland was completely naked, though highly decorated in what looked like Native American war paint, having figured out that she could have a great time finger painting with blueberry poop if she could just get her cloth diaper off, and if she stayed very, very quiet.

I was frozen. I couldn't even move past the doorway. I had no clue what to do. After several mute minutes, I took action. In what my aunt deemed the "Mommy Hazmat Suit", I stripped down naked, knowing that as soon as I got within 3 feet of Lakeland, I'd be covered in poop myself. I lunged toward my little darling and swung her out of her crib, holding her with my arms straight out in order to leave the widest possible berth between her crap-caked body and me.

A thorough scrub of two girls, and everything in between the nursery and the shower, along with the passing of two months, and I am able to impart the following wisdom/lessons:

1. It only takes one phone call to cancel cloth diaper service.
2. It only takes one blueberry poop story to get out of a "two weeks notice" contract from said diaper service company.
3. One child, with developing digestive system, should not be fed raw blueberries for 20ish consecutive meals.
4. Quiet child does not equal sleeping child.
5. Oxyclean is the shit.

Squirrel Stand Off

I spend the majority of my time hanging out with a toddler. So when really funny stuff happens, or when I make up really funny stuff, sometimes I wonder if Lakeland really gets me, or if my humor is mostly lost on her.

For instance...the other day I walked outside and there were two squirrels on opposites sides of my street. They were facing each other. On their hind legs. And I was all (in a snarky and out loud voice) "What? Squirrel standoff!?! What is it, guys, what's the problem? Money? Drugs? Women? Think it over!"

The squirrels were unimpressed. As was Lakeland. Yet, I chuckled to myself the rest of the afternoon. "Squirrel standoff", I kept thinking...that's funny. I don't care who you are.

I got snubbed by my kid

Yesterday was the gut-wrenching day that all working mothers abhor. The first day of dropping my sweet baby off with a trusted friend and returning to the office to work. It went like this...

Me: She probably needs to go down for a nap soon. Here's her food. You'll know when she gets tired because she will fall down a lot and she might start getting kind of slappy, and biting.

Stacy (the babysitter who has a daughter and knows exactly what she's doing...): OK, we'll be fine! Don't worry, I've disinfected the whole house, everything is childproofed, and I have this lovely brand new pack and play and high chair for Lakeland. It's going to be great!

Me: Maybe I should try to put her down for a nap...?

Stacy (sensing I need reassurance): OK, if you want to, but I can totally put her down.

Me (tentatively, and really trying to stall): Well, OK, let me just feed her quick.

Meanwhile, Lakeland was laughing and playing with the cats and dog and checking out her new environment with the kind of fervor only a 15 month old who still wakes up many times per night can muster. Of course I thought that she was going to be as devastated as I was when I left. She just didn't know it yet. (Prfffft)

I finally made my way towards the door, after an outburst of tears (from me, not Lakeland) and headed to work. Where I watched the clock and wondered "Is she napping OK?" and other motherly stuff like that.

Throughout the day, I received text message updates and pictures of Lakeland playing with Haily, Stacy's daughter, looking happy as can be, and my worry subsided a bit.

Later, another picture of Lakeland sleeping peacefully further reassured me. But still, I was antsy to get back to her. I was sure Lakeland was missing me as much as I was missing her... (Prfffft)

Finally, when I burst through Stacy's door, expecting a huge hug and enthusiastic waves and extended cuddle time from my daughter, I was instead greeted with an almost disregard for my presence. Lakeland sort of looked at me as if I have been gone for just moments, and proceeded to race after the cat, squealing and laughing and pointing. I barely got a glance. Feeling both relieved and rebuffed, I made plans to bring her back next week.

I'm a battered wife...

It's the weirdest. Every time Seth and I go through a drive-thru, I end up feeling like a battered wife.
It goes like this:

Drive thru guy: Can I take your order?
Seth (quickly & efficiently): Yep, I'll have a double stack, a large iced tea, a chicken nugget and a fry.
Drive thru guy: Is that all?
Seth: Nope, we also need...(and then he looks at me expectantly)
Me: Ummmmm....I'lllllllllll....haaaaaaaaaaave....theeeeeeeeeeee....ummmm......a......
Seth (all super annoyed with me) - to the drive thru guy: Hang on! (trying to prompt me by looking at me and bobbing his head like how chickens peck at grain)
Me: (kind of nervous, feeling rushed, and trying to frantically read the dollar menu before I get yelled at...) OK, I want a............um.........junior bacon cheeseburger....and.........
Seth - (whispering without whispering, in that quiet but loud way) to me: Oh my god, seriously? It's the same menu as always.
Me: I know, but you are making me all nervous. I cannot make a decision when I'm nervous. Just let me look a second. It' not that big of a deal.
Seth - (kind of apologetically) to the drive thru guy: Hang on! She doesn't know what she wants.
Me: And, I'll have spicy chicken nuggets...
Drive thru guy: What kind of sauce?
Me (all frantic again, trying to remember what my choices are): Um.....the mustard...the sweet...the honey mustard! And fries, please.
Drive thru guy: Is that all?
Seth (rolling his eyes at me like we've been in the drive through for an hour and a half, when it's really only been 2 minutes): Yes, that's it.

And then, when we get up to the window and we are waiting for stuff, I say to Seth, "Hey, can you get me a sweet and sour sauce too when the guy opens the window?"

Seth, in this highfaluting way says "No! If you wanted sweet and sour, you should have ordered it at the first window where you were supposed to order it...I'm not going to make that guy do extra work just because you didn't order what you wanted. "

To which I respond, "I did it on purpose Seth, because if you order extra sauce right away, you have to get in a big stupid argument with the drive thru guy over the goddamn microphone about how the nuggets only come with one sauce. Then you have to explain how you don't care, you need two sauces, and then they say 'well, you're gonna have to pay extra for that', and it's just a big hassle. But if you just wait until your food comes out, then ask real nice if you can get a sweet and sour sauce, it's not like they are going to ask you for a quarter. And it only takes one second for them to get the sauce for you."

And the way Seth looked at me, I knew he wasn't going to get me the sauce.

So then I said "Whatever. Just lean your head back when the guy comes with our food, and I'll ask him myself for the sauce. Why are you such a drive thru dick?"

Then the window opened and I got my sauce.

Team Clean Gets Mad

So twice a month, a nice young girl comes over and vacuums and dusts and cleans the kitchen and washes the floors and the disinfects the bathroom. Yes. I have a cleaning lady. I know, I know...it's incredibly self-indulgent, and I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I can't keep up. I am the leader of "Team Clean-Grand Rapids", for crying out loud, and I have a cleaning lady.

But hey! I work full time, and I'm a stay at home mom full time. How do I do both, you ask? Well, I have a cleaning lady come in once every two weeks. It's really the only way to survive in my world.

Anyway, so insert here a long story about AT & T and what bastards they are and how I hate them, and then skip to this morning...

I received a bill, which was supposed to be for $33. And it wasn't. It was for $127.37. So of course, I call customer service and start ripping into the service representative about how they purposely try to dupe people into buying things they don't want or need, etc... Insert another long story here, with ranting and raving.

Of course, the whole time I'm on the phone, LL is sitting nicely in her highchair, shoving blueberries into her mug, and the cleaning lady is dusting and wiping down tables, and presumably, listening.

I finally get off the phone, resolving the bill while simultaneously getting my gripes in, and I turn around to see a sort of wide-eyed, mop holding, sweat trickling girl looking at me with this great amount of admiration. And she says "Can you please call on my bills for me, too?"

And then she says, and this is the whole point of this story..."So...you clean when you are mad, huh?"

Sheepishly, I look at my powdery white hands and wrists, the remnants of a Comet cleanser attack on the kitchen sink. I had done all of the dishes, scrubbed the counters and disinfected the sink, all while my cleaning lady looked on...

Bromance leaps into unchartered territory...

Happy 4th anniversary!

Seth and I celebrated our 4th anniversary with flair this year...see picture, left.

Let's take a walk through anniversaries past. On our wedding day, Todd [the left ass in this picture], Seth's BFF, was the one to declare us husband and wife. It was a beautiful moment on our perfect wedding day.

On our 1st anniversary, Seth and I returned to the place of our reception, 5/3 ballpark, and took in a game after a nice dinner and some...ok many...cocktails. Followed by additional beers at a local watering hole.

On our 2nd anniversary, we were in Ohio, on Burger Family Vacation. During the day, all of the Burger girls were pampered with massages, and Seth arranged to have a bouquet waiting for me at the spa. That night, Seth and I drove into town to catch the All Star game and have some cocktails. And then we returned to the vacation house and continued with libations and laughing, in the hot-tub, until dawn.

On our 3rd anniversary, Seth talked me into going to see this Star Wars special. With Todd. Technically, it was the symphony, but it was combined with a weird and gaudy giant movie screen showing scenes from the films. And it was emceed by a guy who played either R2D2 or one of those other metal looking guys, I don't know for sure. And, after a particularly gutsy symphonic performance, Todd shot up out of his seat and yelled out "Fuck yeah!" amidst all of the children and many black tie bedecked patrons. One year later, I continue to be thankful that I had enjoyed several cocktails prior to the event.

And on our 4th anniversary***, the movie "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" was released. So I invited myself to go with Seth and Todd to the midnight showing, on our anniversary, because there was no way Seth was going to not go at midnight.

On the afternoon of our anniversary, pre-midnight movie, Seth and Todd enjoyed a nice lunch together. Followed by a trip to the parlor. The tattoo parlor. Where they each got a new tattoo. A new matching tattoo. Of the Deathly Hallows. Matching Harry Potter Deathly Hallow TRAMP STAMPS. A permanent indication and declaration of their bromance. On our 4th anniversary.


***I will note the following:
1. Seth wrote me a really great poem and read it to me aloud. Which is quite romantic, I think.
2. Seth took me to dinner at a restaurant we discovered when I was pregnant. Awful service and great food.
3. Before the movie, Seth went with me to Costco, and he hates Costco. That's love.
4. Seth secured a reliable babysitter. I'll give you one guess who that was...