Monday, June 23, 2008

I'm having a party........

These days, we hear a lot about the negative effects of television on our children and their brains. If your child watches more than a certain number of hours of TV in one day or week, then you might as well hit them hard over the head and render them comatose. What these studies don't mention however is the television's extraordinary ability to act as an electronic babysitter. Those robots from the Jetsons had nothing on a tv. It has been awhile since I found myself in need of such services from our ancient tvs but that all changed today.

This past weekend was fun filled and hectic. We are fast entering birthday party season for the kids and their friends. On Saturday, Ash's little buddy was turning 6 so off she headed. When I appeared to pick her up, I fast discovered that my darling spawnette had been the only child at the party to not partake in the Slip 'N' Slide or the sprinkler, despite having her cute little bikini on under her dress. Ash has this irrational fear that she will melt like the Wicked Witch should she come into contact with the tiniest droplet of water. There are days when her behaviour is so ass sucking that I wonder if this could perhaps be true, but alas it usually proves to just be yet another quirk in her rapidly expanding portfolio of oddities.

Sunday - Hotty Hubby and I discovered very quickly that we had somehow switched positions in the night, as we had clearly both woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Punchy doesn't even begin to describe the way we were both acting. Grumpiness aside though, we headed out for breakfast at Denny's for what would prove to be one of the worst ideas of the day. The restaurant was packed, and as a result we drove around the miniscule parking lot no less than 5 times looking for a spot to slide our car into. This was made all the harder with Hotty Hubby pretending to be rational ("Why don't we just go to Alzu's instead hon?) and my pretending that I am not the stubborn bitch that I've always been proud to admit to being ("I said we were going to Denny's and to Denny's we're going DAMMIT!).

Parking spot found, seated in the booth (could those booths get any friggin' smaller?!) and both kids decided that this would be the most opportune moment to annouce that should they not get the milkshake that they demanded, that our lives would not be worth living. I pretend to be this big hard ass about things like this, but quite honestly when it's a choice between a measly milkshake or World War 3 in a packed Denny's, I choose the first.

Kids fed, Hotty Hubby stuffed, we headed off for yet another birthday party. The daughter of some good friends of ours was turning 4. She is one of the most adorable children. It was technically a pool party and so after multiple assurances to Ash that she would not in fact melt should she dip her toes into the heavily chlorinated water, she was suited up in yet another bathing suit. CJ assured me he wanted nothing to do with the clear blue depths that were so transparent they could possibly be hiding a monster of the deep, so his swim shorts were abandoned at home.

Needless to say, the children take after me far more than I might care to admit on any given day, and have reserved the right to change their fickle little minds at a moment's notice. CJ absolutely must go in the water. I may have mentioned before (like about 2 paragraphs ago) how stubborn I can be. I would not go back to get his swim shorts......and so he swam in his cute little Diego underoos. When I say swam, I should probably clarify that what he actually did was paddle his feet, sit on the top step in the shallow end and scream like a dying banshee if anyone tried to get him to past his shins in depth.

Two hour party and off to the ball field. It was the last T Ball game of the season and then closing ceremonies at 5pm. Except, closing ceremonies didn't happen at 5. Or even 6. Such is the disorganization and stellar time keeping skills of us bunch of volunteers. We do our best, but sometimes that's just not good enough. Finally at 7pm, the ceremonies started and as they worked their way through the older kids giving them their trophies and ribbons, our poor little T Ballers were falling asleep on the field. CJ was falling asleep on me in the stands. By just after 8, we'd finally managed to convince them to give the little ones their medals and send them home.

Unfortunately by this point I'd been sitting out in the sun for almost 8 hours. While I had the presence of thought to smother my face, arms and chest, I sorely neglected my back. I have a lovely circular shape burn on my back now with the incredibly attractive bonus of a white patch in the shape of a bow from the laces on my shirt.

And the party that I'm having? Well it's a pity party. And you are all invited. It's a BYOP party so no hogging the sympathy. The reason for said party? Ahh......that would be the incredible debilitating pain in my back. Seems that to add insult to sunburn, my body has decided to revolt. I have a fantastically bulging disc in my back.

If you have never had one of these, picture the feeling of 25 samurai swords simultaneously stabbing you in the back while a 40 pound toddler swings from them as you make a futile attempt at walking. Then, when you tire of this little project of walking and try to sit down in a chair, you will feel like all those swords have been removed. This blissful feeling is lulling you into a false sense of security though, because the moment you try to stand up again, you will wish desperately for a ninja to pop out in front of you and slay you on the spot.

Laying down in bed is about the only comfortable position, hence the advent of the electronic babysitter. The spawn were under strict instructions to remain glued to their sets until next week rolls around or until mommy could walk, whichever came first. And so there they sat til Hotty Hubby returned home from work. I'm pretty sure they threw in some sleep time, some reading and some bed jumping as well, but as long as they weren't jumping on me, I was happy.

As an added bonus, and more material for my pity party, Hotty Hubby had a date to go out with "his boys" tonight. Under normal circumstances, this is a normal Sunday/Monday night occurence. I think tonight though, I was harboring some secret desire that he would stay home to take care of his poor invalid wife. And when the words "I'm sorry but I can't let down the boys" came out of his mouth, I advised that he run as fast as the wind to get out of the house lest I go all Exorcist on his ass. I haven't yet been able to decide if this is a sign of comfortableness on his part that he feels brave enough to utter such things in my presence or if it's a sign of complacency on my part for not caring enough to pick a fit over it.

Either way.....I have one word for y'all....OWWWWWWWW!!!

And to think I just typed all of this with my laptop balanced precariously on my ample bosom. I knew there were advantages to a large chest.

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  1. oh my lord Meg, poor you & your poor back. Shit, go to W.S. next time. Waaaaaay better. Denny's is only good when you have had to much to drink.

  2. ps quit switching blog locations, it is hard to keep up with ;0)

  3. We all say things like "can't let the boys down" when what we really mean is "I can't let me down, and seriously, you're a grownup, so you don't need me around to bottle-feed you on the night I was looking forward to getting ass-drunk with my friends. For God's sake I already give you minutes out of every day and I never hear you say you appreciate the quality time I spend with the kids but now I also have to spend my scheduled, reserved, pre-planned time with you? I don't think that's fair at all, and I would never passive-aggressively ask you to do anything like this."

    That's what goes through my head, anyway. :}

  4. You gotta love how we are expected to cater to their every whim and desire when they have so much as a hangnail, but we could puking our guts out and they MIGHT toss a bucket in our direction if they happen to pass by on their way to the fridge.
    You have a great big ole pity party if you want to, and I hope you're feeling better soon.

  5. www.startswithanx.comJune 24, 2008 at 12:08 PM

    If my back felt like that I would expect someone to throw the pity party for me. You're in luck. I'm a fabulous pity party thrower!

  6. Pity party away, my dear, you deserve it. Take care of yourself and feel better. If the kids can find the snacks and drink water from the tap, they'll be fine.

  7. Go ahead. Have a pity party. And you should have gone all exorcist on him. Just sayin....

  8. Ohh Pity Parties...I'm quite good at those.
    Looks like you really need one ;) I'll send drugs( of the prescription variety of course) stat!

  9. All your complaining and chickisms were putting me asleep until that "ample bosom" comment.


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