Grumpy Mommy Monday and Other Tales From This Viking's Ship

Oh dear, I fear I've been away a bit too long. I understand you've all been longing for some gut-busting stories. The fact of the matter is that the past 2-weeks just whizzed by and here I am, a near blogger drop-out. So very much has happened, most of it wasn't hilarious and some of it was so hilarious that I nearly had to go out and buy myself a pack of Depends . . . and yet, those were the sort of things you had to be there for.

All I've got is news, and here it is Grumpy Mommy Monday so who knows how it'll pan out (GMM occurs when I work the previous Sunday night and the go on with my day without sleep). Not even any pictures, which leads me to #1 news item of the day:

1) Camera Lars was "fixing" our perfectly functioning camera on Thursday when he broke the lens. No pictures, this is very sad because some picture worthy events were not recorded simply because my husband is unable to abandon his boyhood obsession of taking things apart just to see how they work. It reminds me of the time, while we were in undergrad, that I spent all my earthly wealth to buy him a fantastic watch for his birthday. We went to China Gate, the best nasty Chinese restaurant in A2. Upon opening the gift, he quickly set about taking it apart. Soon the springs in the watch gave way and the watch burst apart, little pieces of watch sproinging up into the atmosphere then buh-dah-boinking down on to the dirty carpet below. It was no use trying to pick up the pieces, that watch met a swift end. This time was a little different, for starters the camera was a birthday present for me and secondly Lars managed to break MY birthday present on HIS birthday. No camera, no pictures. Good thing I still have my sense of humor.

2) Tova's Eating Disorder Ocassionally, Tova will take a bottle. Our nanny, Hope, has had the most success out of anyone. Sometimes Lars has a stroke of luck, as he did last night, when she took a full 4-ounces while I was a work. These joyous events are still few and far between, but they happen often enough that we can appease Dr Pale Skinny Californian over at the Puppy Mill. Additionally, Nanny Hope and Daddy Lars have been feeding Super Nova Baby Tova oatmeal. She likes it. She likes it in her mouth, squished between her fingers where lengths of my hair are also tightly wrapped, on her eyelashes, and up her nose. And for safe keeping she likes to store some in the folds of her neck. She weighs over 16-pounds (50% at 6-months) and 27 and some odd inches (90% at 6-months). Not crawling. No teeth. She nurses as often as there is a fully-loaded boob around to latch onto, namely mine.

3) Annike the Champ Annike has moved up the ladder in the elite world of toddler gymnastics to fall into the coveted rank of Baby Team. Okay, it's not really called Baby Team and she's not a toddler anymore but the thing is is that I pretend she's still a tiny widdle baby and thusly, rename all her activities accordingly (Baby Soccer, Baby Ballet, Baby Team, Baby Pee Pee and so on). Today was Annike's first day of Baby Team. Petra led her out to the floor where she got to warm-up with the big girls, including with Petra. Her new coach introduced her to the other girls, all 5 and 6-year olds, and then they started their Baby Workout. There are a few things in this world that Annike fears like no other. What are these things, you ask? In no specific order, they are: George Bush, brussel sprouts, swimming in the big pool without DJ or Daddy, dinner without dessert, and the Big Trampoline at gymnastics. Coach Jill led Annike's troupe over to Big Trampoline, where she gave the girls instructions and then had them wait in line to do their skill. Next thing I know, zoom! A flash of black and purple and blonde goes streaking across the length of the gym, underneath the uneven bars where big girls are practicing mill circles, through the straightaway where the team girls are running to the vault, leaping over low beam after low beam, then artfully ducking under the high beams as she sprinted over the spring floor through the double doors into the lobby of the gym. But she didn't stop there! She kept running through the busy lobby, where several parents saw the ado and spread their arms out to catch her in Little Gingerbread Boy fashion. She raced through their legs straight for the door to the outside. She kept running! She was out the door in 3-seconds flat. Tova, who was quietly nursing, was tossed into the hands of Gym Friend Jen, I followed in hot pursuit my bra flaps unhooked, my button down cardigan open and flapping about. Annike, up ahead, was scrambling down the stairs as fast as her fluffy little legs would go. Sobbing! I heard sobbing, almost shrieking. She gathered speed at the bottom of the steps where she darted across the corner of the parking lot, heading straight for the ocean just beyond the Coaster tracks. I ran, I ran with my flip-flops spanking my heels with each step, calling to my baby, "Annabeaner! Mommy is right be-gasp-hind gasp you!" She stops dead in her tracks, pivoting on her tiny heel, pumps her sweet arms at her sides and throws herself into me. "De go-ols (girls), "she sobs, hysterically "de go-ols on Baby Team aw too bigger dan me. Dey beat me up de wope. Dey beat me up de Big Twampoline. Dey beat me up." Her little lip quivered, tears gushed down her cheeks and onto her neck all the while snot from her nose dripped into her mouth. I carried her back in the gym, I held her to me, and we watched those big girls with all their fancy big girl moves. We don't let our children quit. Our children are instructed, above all else, we expect them to be a positive participant and to do their best. They don't have to be good, but they have to be positive. Well, that, and I bribed her with a Slurpee for tomorrow after school if she gave it her best. That cheered her right up. I transferred her back to Coach Jill, who is not loving and cuddly like her old coaches Heather and Rebecca. She stomped over to the center of Big Trampoline, put on a smile, gave me two thumbs up and then shouted "Mommy, I can see your booby."

4) Kelly Gets Drunk It's true. Friday night. I drank a full Tecate, then a glass of red wine. Then I think I drank a full Corona Light. The next morning, though, I found a Corona Light opened sitting next the catsup in the door of the fridge with the top off, the neck of the beer gone but the rest was there. A suspiciously familiar placement. But I'm sticking to my story, I drank two beers and one glass of wine. With no fewer than 27-guests, I had a killer birthday party in honor of Lars turning 32-years old. I made 2-pies with my GF. All my friends joined me in jolly and resplendent glee. Our collective children played in our basement on the gym mats, in the trampoline, and out on our newly contructed swing-set. I was dancing to Run DMC and Sir Mix-a-Lot, egging my husband on to do the worm on our 'wood' floor (bruising came later) and lettin' loose. Our house boom-boom-boomed from the end of the Lakers game until the wee hours of the next morn.

5) The Issue of Thorne Wednesday night, 5/27/09, we took the kids to a horse show seeing as how Petra plans to be a farming cowgirl. Petra was enthralled, though was disappointed that there was no wrangling of things or lassos or barrells to speak of. On our way back up the coast, in the quiet car that had 1-sleeping baby and 3-drowsy cowkids Annike's little voice squeaks out, "when is Thowne gonna be hewe?" Petra and Soren shush her, coaxing her back toward the peace and tranquility of star gazing along the ocean in a perfectly silent car. We arrived home, kids shuffled off to bed with flossed teeth and jammied feet. I tied up a few loose ends and the threw myself into bed, where I lay nervously. Listening . . . Bam! Bam! Bam! My husband's voice erupts as the door puffs open, "what the faruncle!" Har, har, hars fill the house as mens' voices boom. I raced to the foyer, Thorne was standing on the tile, dressed in his Red Wings jersey, arms open to Lars' leap toward him. Beautiful Breck beside him, I welcome them to our home and breathe a sigh of relief that I no longer have to keep that surprise from my husband. Elation sets in. 2,300-miles Thorne and Breck traveled to surprise Lars for his birthday. Annike drowsily trips out of her bedroom, blinking into the light of the family room where she sets her eyes on 'Bubba Don' and shyily smiles at him, huggin him and then scuffles back to bed. Later that night, as Lars and I lay in bed with Thorne and Breck just down the hall in the Grandma Room, Lars whispers to me that he is not only surprised but overjoyed. Sparks shoot from his happy eyes and he falls asleep with a smile on his face. All is well with the world.

6) The Daily Grinds I've been working a combo of Old Job and New Job, kind of hoping New Job will grow and Old Job will shrink. Things are good. The awkwardness of working with Mr. Doctor OB is subsiding. Besides, I have a job, unlike dear friends at Visteon, Chrysler and GM. For all the 14-year old mamas at Old Job and all the 53-year old cougars at New Job, the daily grind is fun and interesting which is far more than most can say.