United States of Motherhood: July 2011

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Life's Crazy But Imma Winner!

Life, my friends, is good....even with well-deserved spats with a certain husband.

So very good, but crazy and I haven't been here as often as I want.

It's not that a don't love you. I do.

It's just driving to 4-6 different DAILY swim practices, football camps, planning hospitality for a huge league meet, driving again to Seattle DAILY for an 8-week lifeguarding course and...

...oh yeah chaperoning a swim trip with Sixty-three bajillionity teens and tweens with only ONE mere fellow chaperone and four coaches in Boise, Idaho has been a wee bit jealous with my time.

Okay, I exaggerate.

Minus the bajillionity part. Still that's a lot of kids on one trip.

Guess what? Those kids were awesome. The coaches were awesome. The chaperoning was a dream. We won the meet!! My kids made finals in every event. My son tied a pool record. In short, dreamy! Well, dreamy, but exhausting since I managed 4-5 hours of sleep for that five day trip.

Isn't summer supposed to be relaxing? Right-o! Let's all do a belly laugh to that one. My husband is already laying bets on which kid says first that they can't wait for school to start again.

I now come back fuzzy and overwhelmed to over 500 unanswered emails (I kid you not), a neglected blog, a ton of volunteer work for two swim teams to do, a backyard with weeds higher than my waist, a filthy house threatening a laundry avalanche, and best ever?

An Aveda private Pampering Party I won.

Yes, my smooch from the hawt social media local mamas Aveda shindig hosted by Jyl from Mom It Foward and JennyOnTheSpot I went to a couple weeks ago earned me a private Aveda party for TEN!!

Never would have thunk I would have won a kissing contest...Heh!

Wahoo! And what better way to apologize for my neglect than to invite some of you to my party. Who's in? The first 10 local readers, bloggers, friends, and family to respond will get an invite.

Dates and details to follow.

Thanks for hanging in there with me. Summer will get better, I promise. Heck, I (and my family) am on this crazy winning streak and was even able to pass it on to one lucky reader. Winning!

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Image via Jenny on the Spot

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

On Marriage: Bloody Furious

I am seething right now. Furious.

It started out a busy, but seemingly ordinary morning. Woke at 6:30. Healthy breakfast of Greek yogurt, fresh berries, and BIG glass of milk for kids at 7:15.

We were out the door for morning swim practices that begun at 8:30. There was the usual hurried reminders, "Don't forget your water bottles and summer reading."

We got on the road just in time with coffee and my breakfast in my hand. The commute was spent worrying over my to-do list today which included writing deadlines, planning a banquet for 150 as chair on one swim team, pool rep. duties for the other swim team, stress over neglecting this blog and yard work and house work, making appointments for suspicious sound in car, sick dog, neglected dental appointments for the kids and I, an appointment to fix my hand, another appointment to fix my period issues, and the 487 flagged emails I have been meaning to get back to since chaperoning a travel meet to Boise.

Ugh. My stomach churned.

Kid #1 and #2 were dropped off early for once in Seattle. We turned around to deliver #3 to his practice in Bellevue. Then it happened.

"Mommy, my stomach doesn't feel well."

I see a little blond head lolling weakly in back. He's been reading. It looks like he'd been laying down too.

Car sickness, I thought. I opened windows. I tell him to sit up straight. "We're almost there."

Then I heard it. I saw the widening of blue eyes in the rear view mirror. The retched sounds.


Commence vomiting. I tell him to try to aim for the blanket on his lap. It is projectile vomiting. It arcs over blankets and towels and gets floor, center console, leather seats, and everything, but the blanket and floor mat.

Blueberries and strawberries leave their polka-dotted stain EVERYF@CKINGWHERE.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I tell him hold on. Our exit is literally 1/4 of a mile. He vomits again. And again. Projectile.

I pull over on the freeway. Hazard lights on, I pull him out.

He vomits again over the railing. Our feet are covered. I strip him down and wrapped him in an extra towel I found in the back and thrust a bowl in his hands that the kids were supposed to return to a swim teammate from a potluck. Thanks be bejesus the kids DIDN'T clean out the car as they were supposed to this time.

I have him sit by the open window.

I call husband in panic. My hands are sticky. My toes are sticky.

We hurry home.

I rush in and kid washes hands and is installed in couch in front of TV. Husband gets vomit bowl while I start gathering supplies for us to clean. I hurry to car and start scraping up berries and gastric juices.

My hands are aching. The stupid cyst on my right hand is back. It is swollen. It's been killing me for days, but so much to do, I've put off making an appointment. Yes, on my list to make today.

I hear the front door slam. I assume it's my husband coming to help. After awhile I guess I imagined it and he decided to stay with kid.

Over an hour later from ground zero, the car is minimally cleaned. I have bags of scraped up junk and a whole roll of paper towels to show for it. My hand is killing me.

I carefully hazmat the clothes and blanket we dropped in vomit in car drive into plastic bags to be scraped inside.

I make mental note to disinfect flip flops by the door.

I check on Li'l Man. He seems okay. Not feverish. Bright eyed.

I look for husband in office. He's not there. I call to him. Nope. Not here. I ask Li'l Man. No answer.


I go back to scraping, disinfecting shoes and preparing a load of laundry to be blasted in the sanitary cycle.

My dear husband strolls in five minutes later. It seems he thought it was a priority to go check on a #$%@ neighbor's computer problems--leaving me to clean up SUV and leaving just vomited nine-year-old to fend for himself all alone in our house.

Nice priorities, eh?

Then he has the gall when it is very clear all the cleaning is done to ask if, "I needed any help?" Please note this is over an hour later. After he has gone and visited the neighbor while I contorted my body to clean out the car HIS child vomited in.

I want to wrap my hands around his neck, but instead I seethe, "Not any more."

He shrugs and walks away. I am raging. My hungry stomach reminds me my breakfast sits forgotten in the car. It has fresh berries on it. I think I'll pass. All my to-do list went out the window.

Even better? My dear husband just came to me a few minutes ago to double check I was going to do the 90 minute round trip to pick up other kids from practice. He asks if I think it is okay to leave the kid that just vomited ALONE while he goes for a run with same neighbor. I swear my aching hands curled in to a fist.


I tell him in calm voice, "Yes, I will pick up OUR kids AS ALWAYS and no, it will not be okay to leave possibly sick kid alone in house."

Help me, my friends. This has been a running problem in our FIFTEEN year marriage.

He would jump over my dying carcass to help a neighbor or friend out. He can't help pick up the kids because he has an appointment to give blood. He sat and watched me stand for over three hours at a swim meet when he knew my back was aching, while he hung out with other neighbors at the swim meet with whom he had arranged to have a potluck. He did bring me a plate of food. Did he offer to take a turn timing? No.

I always feel like I am the very last priority in this marriage and today? Today I am feeling positively stabby.

I feel a fight brewing. What would you do? All I know is that he is positively on my shit list.

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