And the mom of the year award goes to...

The Spaz household has been a little out of sorts over the past week. Last Thursday night I took the kids to the South Florida fair with my parents and B1 and her family and the kids were fearless! Both Bug and Munchkin have reached the needed 48" to be able to ride most of the big rides and I was shocked to see them thrilled with all the whipping around. Even Goober got to go on some and he LOVED them! Combine all that up and down and upside down and cotton candy and popcorn and elephant ear and ice cream and I wasn't at all shocked to find that Munchkin woke up the next morning feeling a little under the weather.

All in the name of fun I thought, and I let her stay home from school just to catch up on some rest and relaxation.

By Sunday it wasn't just Munchkin with a fever, it was Goober, Bug, and even the Spaz, herself. Before long we were all coughing and gagging and wheezing and sneezing all over the place. The Man practically lived at work trying to keep himself from getting the funk, too.

Munchkin and Goober went begrudgingly back to school on Wednesday, but Bug was having a harder time kicking the funk so it wasn't until yesterday I sent him back to school. Now, I had warned him Thursday night that he'd be going back to school in the morning. Being the dramatic kid he is, I wasn't even phased in the morning when he told me his stomach hurt and he felt terrible.

"No way, kiddo. You've missed a week of school already, you're going today!"

And I packed them all up in the car and dropped them all off.

I wasn't even home before the phone rang at 8:05. The school nurse let me know that Bug was in the clinic and his stomach hurt but that he had no fever and otherwise appeared fine. The nurse and I collaberated and decided he could go back to class. So back to class Bug went.

Around 9:30 the phone rang again. Evidently when Bug went to his next teacher's classroom she sent him to the clinic, too. The nurse and I decided we'd let him rest a bit and then send him back to class. Both of us were sure that Bug was exaggerating and would pull out of it.

When the phone rang again around 11:30 I resolved that I'd need to run up to the school and pick Bug up. So I had him gather his homework from his teachers and I got in the car.

It was the way he held his stomach that alarmed me when I picked him up. He held it firmly on the lower right side and the look on his face told me he really was in pain.

So... to make a long story short... I'm posting this from the hospital where Bug is on IV antibiotics for his ruptured appendix.

Probably the worst parenting moment in history, you think?

At this point, I'd welcome those white coats...

Today was one of those days when you just look skyward and think "Really? Can I just get a little break?"

First of all it was cold.

Now I don't want to hear about it from you northerners. I'm frigging cold. I don't care if you're colder or if I'm a wimp because temperatures in the 40s and 50s aren't cold enough for me to warrant complaining. I'm a Florida girl and when the mercury drops below 70 I'm not happy about it.

Second of all, the kids have been out of school since the 18th of December. Two weeks of them being with me all the time, coupled with the holidays have pretty much set me on the brink of insanity. They go back to school tomorrow and I swear I'm going to hear choirs of angels singing when I drop the last bugger off in the morning.

And then this evening it was just one thing after another. First I attempted to get them to clean the bathroom. The Man's brother will be over tonight to watch some stuff on the TV with The Man and I attempt to at least make sure the bathroom he has to use isn't too gross. He's not picky - thanks, E! - but I try to at least make sure he doesn't have to be accosted with a floater or anything. That's the kind of nice sister-in-law I am.

There was whining and gnashing of teeth and complaining over all of that for what seemed like FOREVER. Finally, the bathroom was "clean"... according to their standards. But whatever.

Then the dog, who I'm loving a whole lot less these days, chewed up my Zafu (meditation cushion) and little wheat husks or whatever that thing was stuffed with went all over the floor. So I cried a little and attempted to not kill the dog and Bug (the sweetheart that he is) cleaned it up for me so I wouldn't have to see it. I love that kid.

Next we had to get to the grocery. We're all in the car and ready to go and Goober says to me "Mommy, I only have one shoe."

Of course you only have one shoe. Why would I assume you'd have two shoes on your feet when you get in the car???

So back in the house we go to get two shoes.

Then, just when they're getting ready for bed and I'm thinking the day is finally going to be calm, I hear "Mommy, Sudo pooped on my library book."

I'm done, y'all. Absolutely fried.

But you know what? I do this all to myself. Somehow. I know this, because I see other women who have three kids (sometimes more!) and a dog or some other animal and they're not crazy. They manage to have clean homes and their kids get to bed on time and their dogs don't poop on the library books or chew up their Zafus.

I think it's time to break out the iron fist. And the alcohol.

Of the DECADE??!

It's the last day of the decade. Of the decade.

It's been one heck of a decade for me, too. In fact, in the beginning of this decade I was a whole different kind of Spaz. I was a Spaz just starting out on my journey of motherhood and adulthood and responsibility and all that jazz.

I rang in the new decade with a tiny infant not even 1 month old in my arms. I remember that New Years Eve so clearly, too. I sat at Jenny's mom and dad's house on her old bed with one of my oldest friends (who I sadly am not in contact with any longer) and he and I looked at my brand new child in amazement.

I was newly married, young and so very clueless back then. I guess I'm still pretty clueless... less young, though. ;)

Over the last 10 years I've divorced a man who loved himself more than anyone else, found the love of my life in The Man, been lucky enough to be the mother to three incredible children, learned to be a grown up, learned to be a mom and a real partner, figured out a lot about who I really am and learned not to be ashamed of it or apologize for it... and realized that I'm still changing.

I've learned that the only thing that really matters is the people you love and as long as they're around you, everything really will be alright.

I've learned to forgive little grievances and to look at things from other people's point of view. I've seen beauty in places I wouldn't have dreamed I'd see it and ugliness in places I'd never expect it.

I've grown up enough in the past decade to realize I have a lot of growing up left to do.

And I truly believe that the next 10 years are going to be better than I can imagine.

My resolutions for this next year? This next ten years? To live my life without petty worries. To live my life without wondering what someone else is thinking. To experience the things I've always hoped to experience and to learn as much as I can learn.

And to stop playing Farmville.

Chickens and Turkeys and Ducks, Oh My!

I've finally figured it out. I've figured out why my house cannot seem to maintain any level of cleanliness, why the laundry is out of control, why this blog has been hopelessly overlooked, and why my kids have had chicken nuggets and pizza as their main staples for the last month or so.

That's right... there is an evil lurking in my life. An evil so powerful, so mind altering, so alluring and seemingly harmless that I have allowed it to creep into my world and take over.

The evil's name is Farmville.

That's right. I said it. Damn you, Zynga Game Network! Damn you!

It started harmlessly enough. I had dabbled a bit in the realm of Facebook games. I'd had a nice time decorating a little apartment in YoVille and had spent some time challenging other sisters in Sorority Life. But I knew my limitations and I could stop at any time.

It was then when I started getting invitations.

"B1 wants you to be her neighbor in Farmville!"

I quickly hit the ignore button. I didn't need to play any other games.

But then the next day the invitation would come again.

"B1 wants you to be her neighbor in Farmville!"

Ignore.

After a few of these invitations I finally got a call from B1.

"Why won't you be my neighbor?"

I began the explanation. Oh, B1, I'd love to but you know I just don't have time for that and I already played a little too much of the other games and I really need to focus on some other things in my life and...

"I need 8 neighbors to upgrade my farm. I need you to be my neighbor."

*sigh*

Okay.... what harm could it do to just be a good neighbor?

And that's how it started.

The next thing I knew I was scouring my friends posts for lost chickens and cows and sheep. I was laying out patterns for crops and calculating what would bring me the most revenue. I was devising strategies and arranging my livestock and clicking and clicking and CLICKING.

I was hastily rushing home to harvest before my crops died. I was fertilizing friends crops. I was accepting gifts.

And my life? My real life?

It was crumbling around me.

I'm vowing now to leave the farm behind me. To stop it, to let it go! It's a new years resolution of sorts. I will not let the farm run my life.

And I'm calling out to you, you know who you are, to put the mouse down! Blink the hay bales out of your eyes and return to your families! It's time to say goodbye, Farmville, goodbye and good riddance.

The post you've been in angsty anticipation of for all this time...

It sure has gotten dusty around here, hasn't it?

I have no excuse for not posting in almost 2 months... life hasn't really been busier than it ever was before (I mean, except for the holidays and all - whew!), there haven't been any illnesses or worse, and my computer has been working just fine.

I just haven't wanted to. I guess I haven't felt like I had anything really important to say lately.

Things around the Spaz household have been busy as usual. November brought us some cooler weather (thank goodness!) and The Man has been busier than ever with his plans to take over the world. In fact, he's gotten so busy that he put in his two weeks notice with the security business just before Thanksgiving and is now focusing all his efforts on world domination.

Thanksgiving was a wonderful, albeit short, vacation to my mom and dad's house in North Carolina where we searched for snow (but didn't find any) and enjoyed the welcome break from Florida's heat.

I managed to snap this great picture of the kids for Christmas cards just before my camera died, never to be revived again.

We made the long trek back to South Florida Thanksgiving night so The Man could report for work the next night and life got back to normal for a little while and then before we knew it Bug was turning 10.

When it hits me that I've been a mom for an entire decade it just boggles my mind. You'd think I'd have a good grasp on this whole motherhood/parenting thing by now, right? Wrong.

Bug had a great birthday at Lion Country Safari with one of his friends from school. We fed giraffes by hand, we saw giant alligators, and of course, lions. The kids frolicked in the water park area and we ate greasy funnel cakes. Of course, I have no pictures because my camera died... did I mention that already?

And then just when I thought I was getting a grasp on the insanity that is my house, Christmas came along to ruin any sort of control I may have thought I had on the chaos. The Christmas tree went up (with much wailing and gnashing of teeth on The Man's part), the kids decorated it all by themselves (and it looked honestly, just about as good as I've ever done), the presents went under and then the day finally came.

At 7 AM (not too bad, don't you think?) we were woken by the angelic voice of Goober. "Hey guys! Get up! It's CHRISTMAS!!!"

And the mayhem began. Wrapping paper and ribbons that I had so carefully put together were torn and thrown into the air. We struggled with clamshell packaging and twisty ties and screw drivers needed to install batteries. It was beautiful. And it was only the beginning.

In total our kids get FOUR Christmases. One at The Man's dad's house on Christmas Eve, one in the morning at our house, one at The Man's aunt's house, and one at my mom and dad's. It makes for three very sugar filled, dazed, and jolly children.

Yesterday I just couldn't take it anymore and I took down the tree and put away all the Christmas decorations until next year. I just can't wait to get my house back under control.

Unfortunately it still looks like Santa Claus and about ten of his elves (and perhaps a couple of reindeer) had a giant drunken party in my living room, but I'll get it under control soon enough. :)

How was your holiday this year?

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Happy Halloween from the Spaz family! :)

Mamma Mia

When I was growing up my mom was an ABBA fan. It seems like it was every day that I walked home from kindergarten to find my mom vacuuming our little house with Super Trouper or The Visitors playing at maximum volume on the stack system in our family room.

The Piper would always have me picturing my storybooks telling the story of The Pied Piper drawing the rats out of the town. When the intro to The Visitors came on it always sort of scared me a little but then the song would really start and I'd have to resist the urge to dance along with my mom and her vacuum cleaner. Does Your Mother Know had me picturing my dad dancing with my sisters and I at all assorted events and Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! was perhaps the most confusing song of all to me... I mean really, why would anyone want a man after midnight? Sounded pretty scary to me.

When Slipping Through My Fingers would come on my mom would hug me and tell me how it reminded her of me. That song absolutely brings me to tears to this very day.

When I got older and went off to college I had the ABBA Gold CD and my best friend and I would listen to Dancing Queen so loud in the car we got stares from other people.

Now when I listen to ABBA I'm always reminded of my mom and how she used to sing and dance, her energy just lighting up every place she went. She doesn't do much singing and dancing anymore and I can't say I don't miss the way she used to be. But she still lights up a room with her smile.

Oh where oh where has The Man gone?

So there comes a time when we all have to pull up our big kid pants and do stuff we just don't want to do. Frankly, I've really never been good at this. I'm an impulsive girl and I live in the moment. I think of it as a flaw but it's probably done some good things for me in my 32 years.

32... really? Crap.

Moving on.

So The Man has been having some difficulty with his Internet Marketing Empire and his other plans to take over the world aren't quite complete and my eBay store has been basically sucking and the bank accounts sort of started dwindling and then sort of being empty... and it came time to do some stuff we aren't proud of.

Not that kind of stuff. Get your head out of the gutter. Geesh.

The Man had to go get a real paycheck producing job. And since the economy is in the toilet and the unemployment rate in South Florida is something like 15% the whole getting a job thing didn't really go as we expected. He interviewed for a bunch of jobs that he was more than qualified for and applied for everything under the sun and in the end he ended up getting a job as a security guard.

And it's not that being a security guard is some horrible loser job or anything... it's just that it's a bit of a step down from what he's used to doing.

And it's not permanent. He has other things in the works and eBay will come back up eventually and things will go back to normal.

But for now, Mr. Man is spending his Friday and Saturday nights dressed in unbreathable polyester and I'm packing his lunch.

That, combined with him working weekdays (sometimes 14 hour weekdays) on some other hopefully more profitable ventures has The Man out of the house for most of his time. And me left here with the kids by myself.

It's proving to be quite the adventure.

I did mention a baby shower here somewhere, didn't I?

Yep... I knew there was something I was forgetting.

Jenny, being the unconventional girl that she is (and one of the reasons why I truly love her so) didn't want to have a traditional baby shower. Nope... there would be no girls only tea parties for her. She was having none of that.

Jen's party would be an eclectic mix of company complete with a full bar (courtesy of the Elk's lodge), karaoke, and quilt decorating. That's right... I said quilt decorating.

After two uneventful but packed flights I arrived in Pittsburgh accompanied by Shea, a friend from high school and also Jenny's oldest friend. We had a lovely conversation about fresh foods and Heinz ketchup chips with a mentally questionable woman while walking to baggage claim and then Jenny was there to rescue us.

After retrieving Shea's monstrous bag from the conveyor belt (she had to open it to be sure it was hers) we were off to Braddock.

The first stop was the no longer a convent that Shea and I would be staying in for the next few days.

The convent is owned by the mayor of Braddock and is a place where people traveling through or moving to Braddock can lay their heads for a few nights or more. There is a communal kitchen and dorm style bathrooms for everyone to share and sinks in every room.

The rooms are simple and to the point. The window in mine refused to close, though it only bothered me one night when I had to sleep in my sweatshirt and socks. A 24 hour steel mill is located directly across the street from the convent and the constant humming lulled me to sleep every night. Seriously, I need a noise maker with a steel mill setting to get me to sleep, evidently. Rain forest and thunderstorm aren't cutting it.

My lovely shower co-host and super long time friend, Liz, had driven down from Massachusetts so it was exciting to get over to Jenny's house and socialize and see her after years of not seeing her pretty face. Not only that, but Lizzie has a baby bump to ogle too!

The next day was filled with much shower planning and then dinner and an impromptu baby celebration for Lizzie at this little restaurant that served the literal best Reuben ever. (I think it was called Big Jim's - Jenny, correct me if I'm wrong.) Seriously, if you're ever in Pittsburgh go get a Reuben there. That sandwich was so good I wanted to curl up in bed with it. No joke.

Lizzie was pleasantly surprised to get a happy little party for her and a kick ass Reuben.

Saturday was shower day for Jenny so Jenny's mom, Liz, and I were all a flutter in preparation. There was cooking and decorating to be done!

We got it all done and set up just as the first guest arrived at the Elk's lodge and the party was in full swing soon enough. We all ate, drank (virgin pregatinis, of course... oh, and beer), sang (horribly), made quilt squares, and were merry.

A thief named Parkinson's

I don't think I've written too much about my mom here on the blog but the time has come when I'll probably be talking a lot more about her.

My mom was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease when I was about 15 or 16 years old. It started as a small tremor in her left hand and remained relatively minor for several years. Over the course of about 10 years, though, her disease progressed to a more advanced state. A few years ago, when traditional Parkinson's medications started failing her, my mom and her doctors decided she would be a good candidate to undergo a procedure called Deep Brain Stimulation. With this procedure a neurostimulator was placed in my mom's chest to transmit signals to a lead implanted in her brain.

When my mom had this procedure done she had trouble walking and controlling her tremor. She would occasionally just completely freeze and be stuck wherever she happened to be, which was sometimes quite frightening for her.

Last week the battery in my mom's neurostimulator died and we all got a cold awakening to how much her disease has advanced in the past few years. She is almost completely immobile. She is unable to adjust the way she is seated in a chair or lying in bed. Walking more than a few steps is nearly impossible and even those few steps takes what seems to be a lifetime. Not to mention difficulties with bathing and using the bathroom.

Today mom has gone down to Miami to have the battery replaced and is recovering nicely at home. But it has become apparent to the rest of our family that mom needs a little more care than she used to. So it has been decided that I will stay with her while my dad is at work and the Spaz kids are at school.

As much as I worry that there will be days when taking care of mom will be difficult for both of us, I am really looking forward to opening this new chapter of our relationship.