"R"ed Carpet "R"eady

Okay, I took a few days off out of respect to a friend that tragically lost her husband very suddenly. I did not think it would be nice to post anything during that time.

After I got the details of the wake and the funeral, I started thinking thoughts that will seal my fate about going to hell in a hand basket. But if I am going to hell (and there is NO DOUBT that I am) I just want you all to know that E is going to be right there next to me in the front of whatever vessel it is that will take us there.

Knowing that I was going to be seeing a lot of people from my past, I did what anyone in my position would do.

Now, granted I do not live in Hollywood and this was not going to be an awards ceremony, but I called my trainer and told him that I had to get “red carpet ready” in a matter of 3 days.

Rick (trainer) took my call for help seriously and talked me through a couple of workouts over the phone. I was not able to see him personally before the funeral, but he had me follow a tough regimen anyway. Little did he know that when I had him on speaker while I was on the “treadmill,” I was really just sitting on the couch watching Days and breathing heavy. I also made sure to set the captions option on the tv so he did not hear Sammi John and Marlena which would have been a giveaway that I was not working out.

It was not that I didn't WANT to work out, but the only time that he was available to speak to me on the phone was smack dab in the middle of Days of Our Lives, and this was a pretty big week, so I had to prioritize. Yes, of course I could have Tivo’d it, but there is something about watching a soap opera in real time that makes it that much more believable to me.

Anyway, I finally did see Rick in person the day after the funeral and I think he could tell that I had in fact NOT worked out as I feigned that I did. When I did see him on Thursday he seriously kicked up the routine a notch and even though I received a phone call from a mom that had Adam at her house for a play date, he would NOT let me answer the phone when I was in the middle of my Charlie’s Angels workout. I told him “I HAVE to answer the phone!” And Rick, who is easily 7 feet tall took the phone and held it above his head. He also sped up the treadmill to a ridiculous speed and placed his hand over the emergency stop button, so I could not even get off the freekin’ thing. I was running so fast and reaching for the phone all the while holding one hand over my heart ‘cause I am pretty sure I was starting to go in to cardiac arrest, and my other hand was waving the finger back and forth violently in Ricks general direction and I was yelling “MAKE IT STOP!!!!” To which Rick said “Not a chance, fatty, not a chance.”

He also told me that if I really wanted to lose weight that I really have to stop eating so much. Well note to Rick, I guess I like to eat, and really nothing is going to make me stop. I guess I will just need to increase my workout schedule to three times a week, that may make a difference.

On Friday I drove Ellie to school and she told me that she needed a white sock to make a snowman with in school that day. I told her “Are you SURE it's for today?” To which she replied “NO, it was for yesterday but you didn’t give me a sock then either.”

It is true that I categorically NEVER read notes sent home from the teachers, so I had to believe her. Last year when driving Adam to school I had to pull over and find things that started with the letter “R” because I did not read the note that was apparently sent home about a big “R” project that they would be working on that day. He went in to school that day with a piece of “R”ubber tire, a “R”ock, a w”r”apper (I let his teachers teach him about the silent “w”), and “R”eally gross twig.

Anyway, this go around I had to take my little white tennis sock off of my foot and send it in with Ellie to turn in to a snowman. (Good luck with THAT, suckas!)

I also attached a note to the sock that told the teachers that if the best way to communicate with me would be to “friend” me via Facebook and put it in their status update.

Friday was “Special Person’s Day” in Ellie’s class so I took Adam in with me. It was fun. Let me explain why.

I was the only NON-grandparent there. I was also the only one NOT to bring in a “gift” for the teachers or students that we were visiting. I sent Adam in to the car to get something for Ellie and the teachers. He found a tube of hand cream and a lipstick for the teachers, and a half eaten day old hot dog for Ellie.

Anyway, on Friday afternoon when we returned from school, the monogrammed sweater was at my doorstep.

I wore it to a party last night, and I will wear it to a birthday party tomorrow. I got one compliment on it by another woman who was also wearing a cashmere sweater so that felt good.

I am having company for dinner tonight. I am making roasted chicken, roasted carrots with shallots, sautéed spinach, sautéed string beans, risotto and salad. I will also be serving wine by the bucket –full.

Clean Berries

So yet ANOTHER snowday. This is becoming a little bit of a joke already. Not that I mind spending the day (AGAIN) with the kids, but they are the ones that need a break from me.

Poor little things could use some interaction with more than each other and more that just me.

There was a little progress made today though, Ellie actually DID clean something. She chose to Windex the fresh strawberries. I think between her and Adam they ate about 7 strawberries each before I realized what they had done.

Poison Control (who I practically have on my own payroll right now) assured me that they would be okay. But they also advised me NOT to allow Ellie to chase the Windex with a shot of bleach as THAT could be toxic. They know her so well….

I was able to at least get Adam to his afternoon enrichment program and the only thing I had to pack him for lunch was an unopened bag of Goldfish. I did not even have anything to pack him as a drink, so I taped a note to the Goldfish bag asking the teacher to allow him to use the water fountain if he got thirsty.

I decided to resign from my volunteer position as the Head of Fundraising at the local museum, effective immediately. Even though I had just cause, the director was not happy with me.

Well, the fact that she has not been happy with me for several months now kind of explains why I was resigning in the first place. I felt like it was a conflict of interest and to make a long story short, I somehow managed to agree to a THERAPY session WITH THE DIRECTOR on Monday.

Please. This is not normal…. I was resigning because I was feeling squeezed out by the director and then all of a sudden I am going to therapy with her?

(There is an “in-house” therapist on staff.) So, on Monday, from 9:15-10:00, while all of you will be doing your normal day-to-day stuff, I will be spending time in a therapy session trying to patch things up with a woman that I will really never need to be seeing again in my life. This is so strange to me. I am still trying to figure out how it all went down and I agreed to do it, but I figure for one therapy session to never have to do one more thing for fundraising there again, it will be worth it.

I actually have a lot of things to discuss with my OWN therapist this coming week, so maybe I will try a little teaser with the session with the director and see how good THIS therapist is. After all, I may as well use Monday’s session to “test drive” a new therapist. Not that there is anything wrong with my current one, but if the situation arises (which it has in a bizarre way), I may as well make the best of it.

Meanwhile Stephen made it home safely in the ice storm the other day. I am glad that I do not have to go back to work now as his insurance policy sucks….

Anyway, I have nothing planned for the weekend… it is the Superbowl and I really do not even give a shit, but I will be making delicious Pizzettas.

Pizzettas

(recipe)

Premade pizza rounds

Olive oil

Fresh garlic

Fresh raw spinach leaves

Red onion thinly sliced

Smoked Gouda cheese grated

Thinly sliced roasted red pepper

Cooked bacon roughly chopped

Place pizza rounds in a 200 degree oven just to dry them out of any moisture from the package. Saute chopped garlic in olive oil until aromatic, (do NOT brown), add spinach and saute until just wilted. Remove spinach from saute pan, drain pan of juice and then heat up some more oil and saute red onion until soft. Remove from pan. Lightly brush each pizza round with olive oil, then spread Gouda cheese over the crust. Unwrap and spread out the spinach leaves and cover surface area of the pizza. Layer with red onion, roasted pepper and bacon bits.

Place in 350 degree oven until cheese melts. Remove, cut into triangles and serve.

Enjoy.

Life Insurance

Today is another snow day. In fact, it is snow day #4 for the winter of '08/'09.

The kids have gotten used to the routine. Adam is a whiz at using the toaster oven… he toasts his own bread and then goes into the refrigerator to get his own butter. Ellie has gotten very good at getting in to my china cabinet, liquor cabinet and the cleaning supply cabinet. (G-d forbid she actually then CLEAN anything.)

And I have no problem pushing up happy hour to noon as opposed to the universal 5pm.

Stephen decided to drive in to work today even though the roads are a mess and the forecast is for a decline in weather throughout the day. All the snow is going to be covered in about three inches of ice. This system has already killed 19 people across the country and I am NOT happy that Stephen decided to go in to work.

For two reasons.

#1. He has the original Deed to our house in the car and if the car crashes and explodes, I am assuming that could be trouble. (He has the Deed because we are in the process of refinancing.)

#2 (and this may be the more important reason for me to be upset), his life insurance policy that he has would only cover funeral expenses and enough for me to pay off the house.

I am including a recipe for Garlic Pan Roasted Brussel Sprouts. Adam’s favorite. We will make them for dinner tonight.

Anyway, I am off to do the treadmill as I am super motivated this week to lose weight… E was lucky enough to get the stomach virus which will easily give her a HUGE advantage to the weight loss challenge we have going. I will just have to get myself into her car, and without her detecting it, I will lick her steering wheel….

That will give me hope for next week….

Garlic Pan Roasted Brussel Sprouts

(recipe)

1 bushel of Brussel Sprouts

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

1 tablespoon butter

3 large garlic cloves, roughly chopped

Kosher salt

Pepper

First peel the outer layer of the Brussel sprouts, and then slice them length wise in half. Then steam them until they are a gorgeous bright green. Remove them as soon as you say to yourself “Wow, that green looks like the first leaves of spring.”

Let the brussel sprouts sit as you heat the butter and oil in a sautee pan. When the foam subsides, place garlic in the pan (medium heat). Release the aroma of the garlic, DO NOT brown the garlic. Place brussel sprouts flat side down in pan, let them get nice and brown, then shake the pan and add salt and pepper.

YUM

What Goes Up...

So, today being Thursday, I worked out with my trainer.

I now know what he is training me for… it is quite obvious.

The Special Olympics.

First of all, I must tell you that I have rug burns on my elbows. He had me do so many g-d dammed 'Up Downs' or 'Down Ups' that I literally burned my elbows because, unlike E, I do NOT have a home gym, and we just use our upstairs TV room that has very thick carpeting.

What is a 'Down Up/ Up Down' you are wondering? It is when a fatty like me lies down on the ground, and does a “special” push up. The last time E was with me and I did them in front of her, she laughed out loud and told me I looked like a platypus. Well, excuse me Miss I-can-do-a-one-handed-push-up-while-clapping-in-between, all the while belaying off of a bouncy ball. (E takes training very seriously; and it shows while I just do it so I can eat bread at lunch.)

Anyway, what I would imagine that I look like while doing a 'Down/Up' thing would be a pot bellied pig trying to do a push up while keeping its back legs extended straight out and all its weight being supported by its toes, with its ass in the air (even though my back should be straight and level with my head)

Anyway, Rick had me do a few thousand sets of 'Down/Up' things because we were “strength training” today.

He then had me get on the treadmill for sprints. AND he had me run up and down my stairs several times in a row (6 times to be exact). AND he told me that he would not let me take a break. We did this crazy routine for an hour of switching off from treadmill to stairs, to 'Down/Ups' to abs and then started the whole routine all over again. We did the routine 6 times in an hour.

I literally grabbed his arm and hand at one point while on the last treadmill go-round and made him shout “YOU CAN DO IT!!!” And when I got off the treadmill I fell to the ground and begged him to leave. But then I said “NO, you have to stay in case I have a heart attack.”

At least he complimented me on the workout which is something I have not heard in a while.

After he left I felt so good that I had a sandwich for lunch with TWO pieces of bread, 14 tablespoons of mayonnaise and 13 ounces of turkey. I also had a 1 ounce glass of water.

I continued to treat myself by sitting on the couch to watch Days of Our Lives. I figure with this kind of training routine, I should lose 3 pounds by March.

Sweet!!!

Ass Backwards

Okay, so I heeded my doctor's advice. I started up hard core with the trainer again and have been careful about what I have been eating. I also instructed Adam and Ellie to make pig noises every time they see me eat. Ellie has confused a pig’s snort with a horse’s neigh, but it still works. Adam is actually old enough to just say “Mom, if you eat that you will get fatter and die faster.” He also figured out how to work my Blackberry messenger and leaves immediate voice messages with my trainer if I cheat.

I started today with one of those bullshit energy drinks that my trainer Rick has been pushing on me. It had the same “stroke-like” side effect that the Metamucil has on me, but I figured I would give it a try.

I dropped the kids at school in my rental car with Rhode Island plates. Drama saw me and told me I look “cute” in the car. She also said with Rhode Island plates I can totally ignore certain low-level traffic laws and that the other motorists won't mind because they will just blame it on me being an out-of-towner. (Now you know why she is my other best friend.)

Anyway, E and I usually work out with Rick together on Wednesdays at E’s home in her beautiful home gym. But this morning, she emailed Rick and me that her family had been throwing up since 2am and that she was concerned that we might catch the disease even though her gym is all the way at the other end of her 10,000 square foot home.

It's okay, I cancel all the time too, so no hard feelings. Rick and I agreed to train here at my house. In my home “gym.”

I was a little nervous about today’s session because Rick instant-Blackberried me yesterday that he had read my blog. And ended his message by calling me “Ass.”

Nice.

So when Rick showed up, I knew I could not complain or anything, because I am under the strong impression that I'm on probation with him.

We started by my doing the treadmill. Usually we start with a 5 minute warm up jog, but I laid out the plan for today. “A three minute warm up.” He said “fine, I am just here today to make sure you do not get hurt.”

Just his saying that hurt. Where was the love?

He concentrated very heavily on my abs and arms today. The concentration on abs I could understand but I questioned why he was working my arms so hard. And then I realized that he was trying to cripple me so that I could no longer type.

Anyway, the session went well. At one point, Rick had me doing more shadow boxing moves and I was having a hard time getting it right. I explained to him that I am dyslexic. I take all my tests un-timed and sometimes it just takes me a little longer than others (again emphasizing that I am dyslexic).

He told me that “this is not a reading exercise.” To which I responded “that is a HUGE misconception about dyslexia; that it does NOT only affect how people read letters or numbers.” He told me that I was wrong and I told him that after our session, I would Google it and prove it to him.

Okay, I am wrong. Dyslexia has 100% to do with letters and numbers and nothing to do with doing shadow boxing backwards.

I got very upset and said “then why did the therapist diagnose me as dyslexic all those years ago?” Rick replied “back then they probably just called it that, now they would call it retardation.”

LOVE HIM!!!!!

Anyway, I am training with him again tomorrow and every Wednesday and Thursday from here on in.

Time to turn this 37 year old's ass around and get back in to shape.

And for the record, I didn't really gain 8 pounds in a month as I had told my doctor… I was kind of just wanting to rule out that I had a stroke. I knew if I had told the nurse that that was the true reason of my calling, she would have made me go to the hospital, and after I had just been there about a month ago to take care of my home-acid -facial peel that had left my face looking the color of an orangutan’s ass, I was not in a rush to go back to the ER.

However, I do think that my doctor had a point that I need to start really exercising again and eating healthfully. Certainly no harm in that, right?

Misdiagnosed

So today I went to the doctor. I booked a "same day" appointment which is unheard of unless you have major clout, or are seriously ill.

I told the nurse when I called first thing this morning "I need to book an appointment immediately." She asked why. I explained that I seem to have gained 8 pounds in a month and the only change I have made has been adding Metamucil and taking Prilosec OTC. (I have heartburn.) (The Metamucil is for something else...)

Anyway, the nurse explained that the doctor would not be able to see me for two weeks. I explained that I have a heart condition (true) and that I really felt that I needed to be seen today.

E totally backed me up on this and Drama asked if I could book my appointment after lunch. I told her "no, I could be dying, I have to be seen asap."

The nurse booked a 12:30 appointment so I was able to have a quick lunch with Drama as it turned out. She was very supportive of my decision to be seen by the doctor and even told me that "Yes, an 8 pound weight gain in a month sounds serious."

DUH!!!!!!

So when the doctor walked in (I average about 5 visits a year with her) (mostly she prescribes me meds that I never end up filling and miraculously get better) I saw her pull out a little sticky-pad thing the size of a slice of American Cheese. WHERE WAS MY FILE??!!!!?

I knew right then and there that she was not taking this appointment seriously. I explained to her that I had Googled "Prilosec and weight gain" and that there was a .01% rate of people complaining of weight gain per 1 million people taking it. Well again, not being very good at math, I explained to the doctor "clearly I am NOT the first person to complain of weight gain while taking this drug. Just look at the stats."

She jotted something down with her pencil which I swear had no point and I continued to tell her that "every time I take the Metamucil, I feel like I have a stroke within minutes of drinking the full glass."

Again, she jotted something down.

And to confirm my stroke theory I explained that "the other day when I was watching my soap opera, my lip twitched."

At that point she put her pad of stickies down, stood up and came towards me. She asked me to close my eyes and put my finger tips on my nose. "Oh good, I was hoping she would ask this one" I thought. (I always practice this between physical check-ups and I was pretty sure I would ace it.) She listened to my heart, took other vital stats and told me that I was "fine."

She then started questioning my diet and exercise routine. I explained that I thought that was "kind of personal," but she kept asking.

Bottom line was she felt that my problem was as follows:

I am 37.

My metabolism has slowed.

I eat like crap.

I don't exercise enough.


I told her that I would need a second opinion before making any dietary or physical changes. She respected that. I asked her for a phone number of another physician she would recommend and she obliged.

On the way out the receptionist asked me to pay the $20 co-pay. I told her "I am pretty sure I have been misdiagnosed, so I don't feel that I should pay," and walked out in to the hallway.
I took the elevator one flight down (who was she to say I don't exercise???!!!)

Anyway, when I got the the lobby, I called E and told her what the good doctor had said. "Uh-uh, no way" E said. She continued to stay on the phone with me as I walked through the lobby and when I got to the automatic sliding doors, they would not open. I was still on the phone with E so I said "These fucking doors will not even open!" To which my best friend said "SEE!!! You are so skinny that your weight does not even register to open the doors!"

That is why I love her!!!

Well I stood at the door waving my arms trying to catch the automatic eye so it would open the door.

Nothing worked. So I went back to the concierge and explained that the automatic door was not opening. She said "that is because it is manual, dear, you have to push it."

E heard this and laughed and suggested that maybe I should go back up to the doctor and ask if I had brain damage.

Anyway, when I got home, I called the number my doctor had given me to book another appointment.

After two rings the person on other end picked up and said "Jenny Craig, how may I help you?"

That doctor sure got me!!!!!

Driving Me Crazy

I have been having a LOT of car troubles lately. In fact not only have my car troubles caused inconvenience for me, but also for my mom as I have had to borrow HER car for the better part of a week.

Anyway, to make a very long and boring story short, today was FINALLY the day that I was told my car was ready and I could come pick it up.

I went to the dealership and the gentleman (ha!) told me the cost was $489.

I told him “no way” and explained that I was absolutely NOT going to pay that amount. He got testy with me and just kept getting himself deeper and deeper on what I call my 'Don’t Fuck With Me, You Raging Idiot' list.

The general manager of service came out and asked what was going on. Luckily I had my sunglasses on which always give me the confidence of a rock star and I said to the manager, after his douche bag employee rambled on, “Sir, it is like your employee is trying to say something to me, but all I see are his lips moving but not a whole lot of truth is being said.” (I don’t even know if that makes sense, but I went with it.) I even threw in “I like to be proven wrong. Please do everything you can to prove me wrong, but it will be you guys in the end that will be wrong, I guarantee it.” (I was on a roll, and just could not stop myself.)

At one point I even told the original douche (now there were THREE ganging up on me) “Sir, do not look at me, please look anywhere but in MY direction. I have no respect for you after you have treated me so poorly and I would prefer if you did not even breath in my direction.”

Bottom line is this… I got my $498. charge reduced to $150. I still think that I should not have paid a dime, but after the manager escorted me to my car to look for my extended warranty and made a copy of it, I just wanted to get out of there as fast as I could with any dignity intact.

Wanna know why???

It is because when the manager handed back my packet of papers that he had photocopied, right there on the top was a bill that said 'psychotherapy treatment for the month of June $600.'

I have always been terrible when it comes to organization, and I remembered the day that the therapist handed me the bill I thought “I will just stick it in my glove compartment… who the hell will ever see it?”

Well, the fucking manager of Toyota North in Westchester County saw it, and I have NO doubt that he made copies and circulated it to all the other dick heads that dealt with me today.

Now I need to get a new car. I can never, EVER show my face in there again.

You understand, right??!?!

It's a Hard Knock Life

So today my mom took me to Greenwich for my birthday present. It was a much belated birthday present, but for good reason. See, my mom feels that every stay-at-home mom needs, NEEDS a monogrammed cashmere sweater. And the only place good enough to find said sweater is in Greenwich, Connecticut.

My mom and I went there on my actual birthday but we had to go back because they had to special order my size. Yes people. I am too fat for "off the shelf" in Greenwich, CT. However the day we were there on my birthday we made the color selection of the sweater and monogrammed initials. Navy blue and raspberry sorbet. Well, who am I kidding when I say "raspberry sorbet?" It is Greenwich we are talking about, and the sales woman was quick to translate "raspberry sorbet" to "Cosmopolitan" pink. And I also think she may have made a special note to the monogrammer to use the initials "J" "E" "W".

Anyway, after trying on my size "fat" sweater, all we had left to do was pay, so my mom sent me to the register with her credit card. The total came to $750.

I said to the sales woman, "Oh, no, I am only buying ONE sweater."

To which she said "$750 please."

I said "Are you fucking kidding me?"

To which she said "not at all, you ignorant slut bitch."

Luckily my mom did not hear any of this exchange, as she was too busy trying on sweaters for herself. But I walked over to my mom and said "I am really uncomfortable about this." She said "It is a birthday gift, please just accept it and take care of it."

TAKE CARE OF IT??!!! I am too nervous to wear it, and I am thinking of taking out an insurance policy on it. And by the way, doesn't my mother realize that I am a mother of two young kids and my car not only is a mess and smells like ass, but my house is not much better.

"Take care of it." Who is she fucking kidding?? I give it two days before Ellie gets Elmer's glue all over it with some sort of homemade play dough getting dried on to it.

"Take care of it." I am still (6 hours later) trying to get over the cost of it. The good news is that I have 6-8 weeks to get over the cost because they hand make it in Scotland. And as my very pleasant sales woman told me, "they hand stitch the monogrammed letters, so it is just as beautiful from the inside out." Well, note to the fucking sales lady.... I am not wearing a $750 sweater inside out.

Anyway, the day progressed with my having my car breakdown while driving back from Greenwich, so my mom continued in her car to pick Ellie up from school. While dealing with an absolute panic attack, while driving a car that I thought was going to spontaneously combust at any minute, my cell phone rang. It was my mother PISSED off at me and telling me how irresponsible and lazy I was and that I am clearly the laziest mother around. I still did not know what she was talking about and I was thinking to myself "does this mean no sweater??!!" when I realized just at that moment that I had forgotten to tell my mom that it was pajama day at Ellie's school.

My mom honestly thought that I had sent Ellie to school in pajamas. (Well I did do that once, but that was only because I confused which kid had pajama day at which school.)

Anyway when that mini-crisis ended and my mom met me at the dealership, she drove Ellie and me to pick up Adam from school. We were listening to Annie. Ellie was singing "It's a Hard Knock Life" and my mom said "that's right Ellie, you sing it... These are tough times and it IS a hard knock life."

Uhm, then DON'T BE SPENDING $750 ON A SWEATER FOR ME!!!!!

Anyway, I have to go to bed. I am beyond tired. I learned a couple of important things today: I am fat and I am never going shopping in Greenwich again. Ever. Even sale items started at $500 for crying out loud.

I just hope that if I am wearing my new monogrammed sweater around my mom that no one dares ask if it is J.Crew.

Cheers

Mother of the Week

Okay, so as I write this, Westchester County is again expecting a lot of snow. Somehow I have been elected the local meteorologist by my friends. This has lead to a lot of phone calls and emails inquiring about whether birthday parties should be canceled, dinner parties should be postponed and even one request for where to buy strap-on skis for kids.

(Uhm, for the record, meteorologists do not know the answers to everything.)

However, I do have a live Doppler read on my computer and my blackberry, so I have advised everyone in the greater metropolitan area to cancel all activities.

As for the strap on skis... anything I know about strapping anything on has nothing to do with snow equipment.

*************

I started my week off strong with a visit to my local fishmonger. I love that he complimented my new hair and then went on to say (when I asked him if he liked my belt) "it's really not your belt I'm looking at." This made my day.

(By the way, I am day 6 in to my South Beach Diet and I have lost 5 pounds, so the next time I go back to the fish market, the guy better ask for my number! Of course I will probably need a driver to take me there as the lack of carbohydrates is making me feel very spacey and constantly buzzed. I better lose the 13 pounds in 2 weeks as promised by this diet or I am going to cry.)

Speaking of losing weight, my trainer called me "obese," "a heart attack waiting to happen," and WORST of all, "fake blond." He has told me that 2009 is the year that he wants to get me in shape.

Well, what was I doing all of 2008???!?!!?!?

I told him that "I do not want to be super thin." To which he responded "we are nowhere even close to having that happen."

Nice guy. I got so pissed at him that I terminated my session and told him I was no longer going to work out with him that day. He threatened to fire me, so I said "fine, can I collect unemployment?"

I actually made him spend the last 15 minutes of the session going through my pantry and throwing a lot of food out.

*************

Adam had a good week, he is really growing up fast. He has become quite the manipulator. He cried the first two days of the week because he had to return to school after the vacation. In fairness to him, I am responsible for making him cry because I had SUCH a great two weeks having the kids home that I told them both "Mommy is going to miss you both so much when you go back to school. You will have your friends to play with, but poor Mommy will be home all alone missing the two of you and my heart will be aching." So, I think my ability of applying Jewish guilt works.

By the way, Ellie did not cry when she had to go back to school, she celebrated.

Anyway, as I was saying, Adam cried for the first two days that he went back to school and then on the THIRD day school was canceled due to an ice storm and Adam CRIED because he was supposed to have tennis that day and he was DEVASTATED that there was no school. So what do I do???!?!? (in this time of Depression when we should all be saving money) I called and booked a private lesson for Adam which cost a pretty penny. So, not only did I learn that Adam was full of shit about crying over going to school, I then got suckered in to signing him up for weekly private lessons at the club. He starts on Monday. The only cool thing about it is that Chevy Chase takes lessons at the same time and will play on the court next to Adam.

Speaking of celebrities, I was hired this week to teach private cooking lessons to a local celebrities wife. So that should cover the cost of the tennis lessons. (G-d forbid I actually earn money and SAVE some.)

*************

The previously mentioned ice storm brought on a whole new level of education to me as a meteorologist. I was not understanding how it freezes rain at 29 degrees and not snows. So, kudos to my friend Jen for teaching me about "temperature inversions and cold weather climates." She did a great job at making me understand why it was ice rain and not snow at that temperature (the rain falls as snow from a cloud but then it travels through a different weather front at a high rate of speed and then it enters another (colder) front, becomes supercooled and continues to earth as freezing rain.)

Good stuff. Now tell me why it snowed two days later at 34 degrees!!!!!

*************

Yesterday I was the "mom of the week" for Ellie's class, but due to my drinking on Thursday night, I was a bit hung over and came to Ellie's class totally unprepared for the my duties as "MOTW."

I think I may have reeked a little bit of booze.

I also said to one of the kids "whatever you say, but I think it looks like crap" when he showed off to me a little drawing he was so proud of that he described as being his family.

And when it came to my reading the special book I was supposed to bring in to read to the kids (which I totally forgot), I had the three year olds huddle around me and I did a read aloud of all my emails from my blackberry.

I have no doubt that some of the kids learned a whole new vocabulary from my "book."

Anyway, today is Saturday and I have a LOT to do.... but I just wanted to catch you all up.

Cheers.

Piano Man

Salutations. I hope you all had a happy and safe New Years Eve.

My neighbors two nephews (7 and 12) came over for a play date today. They played indoor basketball with Adam for hours. It was great.

At one point (of the SEVEN HOUR play date) David discovered the piano and started playing songs. Correction. He started playing the ONE song he knew over and over and o*v*e*r again!!!! Finally, I threw some sheet music at him and he tried to learn something new. Ellie stayed in the living room with him the entire time just watching and listening. David came to get me and requested if I would play Billy Joel's "Piano Man." Sure, no problem, I did it.

Ellie was thrilled when I left her and David alone again.

I headed upstairs to catch the last 10 minutes of my soap opera and the effing hockey game was on!!!! So, feeling defeated, I went back down and was serenaded by David singing "Piano Man." He actually sang it out loud. The cheeze factor was at an all time high when Ellie started to fucking dance the most inappropriate dance I have ever EVER seen a three and a half year old do. I was mortified. Thank g-d David's back was to her. He did not see a thing, but I did, and believe me, it has done it's damage.

I pulled Ellie aside and asked her "where did you learn how to dance like that???" and she said "at ballet." Well, note to self... I must observe the next ballet class!!!

Anyway, the play date finally came to an abrupt end after Adam was dropped on the head by the 7 year old.

Hey, it was worth it to have the boys return across the street, even if it was my own kid that had to take one for the team.

So, I am sure you all have your own stories about how you spent the first day of 2009. This was just mine.

Cheers

Not One Single Thing

Well, out with the old, in with the new. I hope that 2009 will be a year of all good things. Of course, we must anticipate some not so great times, but that is only because none of us lives under a rock.

(And by the way, that IS correct grammar... "none" is singular for "not one", therefore when using "none" in a sentence, you must always make it singular. In fact, people always say "none are", when that is incorrect. The proper way to say it is "none IS"... even though it sounds funny, but as I said, "none" stands for not one... and you would not say "not one are", you would say "not one IS." So, with the exception of my friend Robin (who is always correcting my grammar), many of you may have just learned something today.)

As I was saying, go out and make it a great new year. Do something this coming year that you thought you could never do. Don't hold yourself back. (Unless of course it is something illegal and could either land you in jail or harm someone else.)

Enjoy family and friends, and if your current friends suck, or are questionable, dump them and get new ones. Your friends should only bring joy in to your life, and bring you up when you are feeling down.

Change your hairstyle, or your hair color. Hey, if you can afford it, why not change your entire wardrobe? Maybe even change your life style. Have fun this coming year!!!

Be safe, be strong and be your best.

Cheers!

Resolutions

Well, with Christmas behind us and one more night of Hanukkah to go, I can start to focus on the new year. I have a few resolutions that I would like to share with you all.

But first, I want to acknowledge the Hanukkah miracle of oil being $39 a barrel.

Now, let's move on to the resolutions:

I will try to curse less in 2009.

I will also try to cut back on my calls to poison control and 911. (I still think that dead deer did qualify as an emergency...)

I will try to be more courteous of my fellow swimmers (bullshit).

I will also try to spend less $$$.

That last one is a big one. I am NOT going to try to be nicer to people. If I were nicer, I would just get walked all over. And honestly, I am not even going to say that I resolve to lose weight, 'cause that has been my big ticket item every year for new years resolutions, and it seems to be a tricky one to follow through with.

So, that being said, out with 2008, in with 2009. Hopefully 2009 will be a big year for all of us. I hope that we all find happiness, health and something to make us laugh out loud at least once a day. I really mean it... I hope that we can all laugh out loud at least one time a day every day for all the days of 2009.

As for the reality of next year, on Monday I have to get the kids registered at their day camp. They will be going to a new day camp this year that offers busing.

This past summer, that sounded so appealing. But the other night I sat straight up in bed in a panic attack that I cannot let my kids go on a bus to camp!!! Ellie is not even in a booster seat yet, and Adam would probably freak that first day when he and Ellie had to get separated from each other once they got off the bus. I had an image of Adam crying hysterically and Ellie just being taken away to her group not seeming to give a shit. But Adam would be devastated. Then I could see the camp calling me every day to come get Adam.

I was going to call the camp on Monday and inform them that I will be driving the kids to camp, but when I told this to my mother, she told me that I am the one that is going to have separation anxiety, not my kids, and that Adam will probably be the happiest kid in the world knowing that he is going to be playing sports 6 hours a day every day. And she reminded me that clearly they would not offer bus transportation if they could not provide the adequate safety seats for 4 year olds.

I told her she was right, (but my fingers were crossed) and on Monday I am still going to call the camp, but I am going to offer to drive the bus. I am pretty sure Adam would LOVE that... all the other kids would be allowed to watch their DVD players and goof around, but I would make him and Ellie sit behind me and I would make them play "I spy", learn how to speak basic French and force them to eat their breakfast on the bus (banana and Grape Nuts for lots of energy).

No doubt that if the camp allows me to be the bus driver for our route, Adam and Ellie will not have ONE friend in camp. And honestly, even if they do NOT allow me to be the bus driver, I'd just be following the bus every day, so really what is the point of having them be on the bus and not in my car.

See how difficult this decision is??!?!??!?!??! Looks like I may need my therapist to weigh in on this one. Am I really that much of a wimp???

Anyway, I am off to bed. Both kids are passed out, and I am getting up early tomorrow to do you-know-what.

Ciao, ciao.
For now.

Charlie's Angel

Again, I did not send the kids to school today. Really, what was the point? To send them for one day when they are still coughing and sneezing made no sense to me, so I planned a field trip to the stores with them.

But, first I had to cancel my trainer and told him that I was keeping the kids home from school because they were sick. He totally called me out and told me that he would show up at my house as planned and would charge me regardless of whether I was there or not, so OF COURSE, I had to honor the session.

The workout was a very good one and I was actually very glad that I kept it. The kids acted as water boys and towel boys and Ellie even rubbed my tush after my squats. THAT was a little awkward, but hey, what happens during training sessions stays in training sessions.

At one point the trainer pushed me so hard aerobically that I dry heaved so hard that I actually puked a little. He asked if I was pregnant, and I explained that the role of immaculate conception had already been give away years and years ago. I told him that I was most definitely NOT pregnant, and explained that he was just asking too much of me.

I asked him "what is it exactly that we are training for anyway???!!!!??!" And he responded "I can't tell you."

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN????

Am I being trained by Charlie and am I suddenly an Angel that is going to be given a super shady mission soon? (He HAS had me doing a LOT of boxing moves lately) and he continued to drop that fucking medicine ball on my abs 50 times again today. Well, whatever my super shady mission might be, it will involve running at fast speeds for 2 minutes at a time. He (my trainer) (who must be Bosley because I don't think I am allowed to ever meet Charlie) has me get on the treadmill for 2 minute sprints 4 times during the session between weight training, boxing and squat things.

Anyway, the session was great and I am going to see him 2x more this week alone. I am going to ask this "Bosley" to drop hints... Just to be safe I think I should go buy that gorgeous new coat I have been eyeing in case I need to jet to Europe at a moments notice.

The kids were thrilled when 12:30 rolled around and their most beloved babysitter came over.

I went to Kohl's to do some last minute shopping for kitchen appliances that I knew would be on sale. It really is true that I live in my own little world because talk about shock and awe! I could not believe the crowd. I guess people really DO wait until the last minute to buy holiday gifts.... I was just heading out to get stuff because I needed (wanted) it.

When I got home from Kohl's, there was a message on my machine from the director of Adam's school asking how Adam was and left word that "Adam had the starring role as the only Jewish boy in the class holiday show."

WTF???!?!?!?!?

I asked Adam if he knew about the class show and he had no clue what I was talking about. I think the director was just trying to make me feel guilty for not showing up because I had signed up to bring in an antipasto platter. (My kids' schools use me for food.)

Anyway, I hope you all have a very merry Christmas, a continued Happy Hanukkah, and a happy Festivus for those who may celebrate that.

Cheers.

Homeschool

Today was so cold out that I did not even entertain the thought of taking my kids to school. I decided that if ever there were a day to try home schooling, today would be that day.

I started the day with home ec. We made breakfast. Oatmeal with flax seeds. Ellie ate it with brown sugar. Adam flushed it down the toilet.

After breakfast, I had Ellie and Adam drag chairs over to the sink and wash the dishes. Then it was "craft time." We made four pots of homemade play dough. Adam made blue and green, and Ellie made two pots of pink. We sat around the table making dinosaurs and jungle animals. (It was only 8:08 am and I was thinking that if I hurried, I could still make it to their schools by drop off time.)

By 8:15 craft time was over and it was time for lunch. In Europe. But we live in New York, so too early to eat.

I decided it was phys ed. time. I had the kids change in to warm-ups and I changed in to my nicest tennis skirt. I told them to meet in the upstairs tv room with water bottles and towels.

So, by 8:27 am the three of us were in the upstairs room just looking at each other. There was only one treadmill, and I am the fattest, so I got to use it. I had the kids do jumping jacks and push ups while I jogged for 2 miles. (They did not last more than 13 seconds), so while I jogged, I encouraged them to play with Lego's. That worked.

I jogged, then did my ab workout, then my arm workout, and then ran up and down the stairs 5 times in a row. I got back on the treadmill for a 2 minute jog, then more abs and arms, and another 5 stairs.

Then it was time for me to lie on the ground and teach the kids about dialing 911. Which led to a mini lesson about our address, phone number and last name.

It was 9:09 am.

I had the kids make their beds and clean up their rooms, and told them that I would do the same. This was an activity that actually took a while, and I told them "whoever has the cleanest room at the end gets to choose the next activity." (That's probably how teachers decide what comes next in their day too, right? The best behaved/ cleanest kid picks what comes next??!?)

At 9:45, I blew a bull horn (my dad gave me one when I was in college) and I went through the hall way announcing my arrival to their rooms. (They didn't really appreciate the humor in my saying "Police, open up!").

Then I opened up the window and bull horned across the street to my neighbor that I would not be able to make it to her house tonight for book club. (I had to call her about it anyway, and I figured the bull horn saved me a nickel.)

She yelled something back but I could not hear her so I said in to my bull horn "What? I can't hear you.... call me." (Did she really think that I would be able to hear her yelling something to me from across the street WITHOUT a bull horn?)

When the phone rang, I totally screened it because I was busy homeschooling and did not want to take time away from teaching my kids. (I know she hates me and by my not answering the phone when she KNEW I was home probably really sealed my fate with her. However, I got a chuckle out of it.)

After announcing that Adam was the clear winner of the bedroom clean up, he was awarded the honor of choosing the next activity as promised. (I try really hard not to break promises with my kids.)

He chose to play the air hockey game that Hanukkah Harry had given him the night before. That was a good choice and playing that brought us all the way to 10:20 am.

Then Adam asked if we could go outside. I told him it was "too cold." But he really wanted to go outside, so I told him it was "freeze your ass off cold." STILL he did not understand, so I told him "If mommy steps one foot outside in this weather, she will drop dead of a heart attack." To which he replied "That's okay, I know how to call 911."

Wise ass.

I told Adam and Ellie that it was too cold "for realz" and that to prove it, we could do a science experiment. I got three cups of water, let the two of them put food coloring in to their respective cups and I kept my water clear. Ellie made red, Adam made green and we put the cups outside to see how long they took freeze. (I have to tell you, I was quite impressed that by 11am, I had already covered, home ec, phys ed, housekeeping and now science.)

At 11:30 I turned on the television for them. The Princess Bride. They were good to go. I got a little Facebook time in and was able to make some business calls.

When it was lunch time, the three of us sat down to grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches on whole wheat with carrots and celery stix and HUGE blackberries for dessert.

We then did a load of laundry and I taught the kids to sing "It's a Hard Knock Life For Us" from Annie. (That was because they started to whine a little for having to do chores.)

We checked the water an hour and half after we put it outside and Ellie's was the only one that was turning to ice. They asked me why. I had no fucking clue and at that point I was starting to eye the bottle of wine on the shelf, when just then the doorbell rang.

It was the mail man!!!!!! Hallelujah!

The kids thought it was a "special assembly." They asked the mail man a few questions like "Do you get cold?" "Do you like to drive?" "Where do you eat your lunch?" But the all time winner of questions had to be Adam who asked "Can you drive me to school?"

Anyway, the rest of the day went well, it really did.

I turned on the indoor jumping castle, and the kids got their exercise in and after that, they sat and read books for "library time."

They really are good kids and even thought the morning DRAGGED on forever, the afternoon kind of flew. They are asleep now (7:45pm) and I will be turning in too. I will be at the pool by 5:15 in the morning, and then the kids have one day of school before the Christmas break.

Having today under my belt empowered me and I realized that I could do it again if I had to, but to do it for 10 days in a row will be tough. That is why I am so very glad that Christy is home and can babysit for a few hours here and there.

All in all, it was a great day, and I really did have fun. And it proves that I really do have the best job in the world.

However, I could NEVER EVER home school my kids. Not being able to answer the question about ice proved it. And g-d forbid I had to do real math.

Ciao, ciao.

4 + 2 = 5

Okay, in going back and reading my past blogs, I see that I curse an awful lot. My mother would be appalled and would no doubt call in child protective services. However, while I feel that cursing is classless, it is also very cathartic and not meant to hurt anyone.

In fact, I would rather my children curse than use hurtful words.

Last year when we were running late in getting to school, Adam directed Ellie to "get in the car, you fucking loser." I had to tell him that "loser" was NOT a word we use in this house.

Words that are banned from being used in my house are "stupid," shut up," "idiot," "fatty," and "ignorant." Just to name a few.

But cursing does not bother me as much as it does some other parents. Of course the day that one of my kids calls the teacher "fucker", I will have to re-think my logic.

I will try to curb my cursing for these blogs, but when it seems appropriate, I may throw one in.

*******************

Yesterday the kids and I spent a lot of time outside playing in the snow. Well, when I say "a lot of time," I really mean 20 minutes. I froze my tuchus off and invited the kids inside to make potato latkes and have some chicken soup.

I got no takers. Adam told met that he wanted hot chocolate like "all the other NORMAL neighborhood kids", but I really hate giving my kids sugar. So I re-offered the latke and soup invitation and Ellie caved.

Adam decided to stay outside and play which was fine with me. He has gotten very good at making snow balls. (I guess boys and balls go hand-in-hand.) Adam has also perfected the making of snow angels. He is in the imagination stage, so he was 100% fine to be outside playing and creating imaginary snow fight scenarios.

So Ellie and I went inside and started making latkes and chicken soup. (I say "making chicken soup" with liberty... I really just heated some up from a can.)

After an hour, I begged Adam to come inside. "Nope, not yet" he said. I was actually quite impressed with what he had going on out there, so I joined him outside for a while (10 minutes) and then again offered to have him come inside. Still no.

So I offered to give him cheese sticks. (What kid doesn't love cheese sticks?) "No, thank you," he said.

So he continued playing outside. Ellie and I pulled up chairs to the windows to watch him just in case hypothermia started to set in and he started acting weird.

This kid would NOT come inside and it started getting to the point where I was getting concerned. I thought it was too cold outside for extended play, but the mom accross the street with a gaggle of kids decided to just then send her kids outside to play, so of course there was no way I was going to get Adam in at that point.

After ANOTHER hour and 15 latkes later (I did not eat 15, just made 15) I again tried my luck with getting Adam inside. This time he and the neighbor's little shits, I mean kids, belted me with snow balls.

I tried to reason with Adam. It was going on 4 hours of his being outside and I had started to pull up articles of "death by exposure to cold air" on the Internet and the information scared me. I started asking Adam simple questions like "What is your name?" and "Who am I?" He passed those with flying colors but when I started asking him what 4+2 equaled, he came up with 5.

I knew it was time to get this kid inside. According to the article on hypothermia, first your brain freezes and and then it all goes downhill from there.

This time I offered to give Adam hot chocolate (I'm not a fan, but every mother has hot cocoa for their kids somewhere in the pantry). He refused. I offered him a grilled cheese sandwich. I got nothing. Chips? Hanukkah presents? Chocolate gelt?

NOTHING WOULD GET THIS KID INSIDE, so I had to think fast. I said to myself "what would my dad do?"

So I offered him a beer and a Playboy magazine.

Thank g-d Adam gave me a look like "what the f**K??" But then I got nervous that his brain was frozen so I took things in to my own hands and picked him up and brought him inside. Ellie was cheering me on and it turned out that Adam really was very happy to be inside. He ate his latkes and a big bowl of soup. I gave him a nice warm bath and he and Ellie played really well together for the rest of the day.

I was psyched when it was bedtime and I was glad that no Hanukkah gifts had to be spared to lure Adam in. I also asked him after he warmed up "how much is 4+2?" and his answer remained the same. "5." (He is so my kid.) However I was nervous that any moment he would take me up on the offer of a beer.

The only downside to this story is that Adam has the most horrendous cough this morning and I am waiting for the doctors office to open to bring him in. I am just hoping the cough is not pneumonia. The Internet has helped me rule out Hepatitis and Whooping cough. And even E-bola.

Okay, until later.

Ciao, ciao.

The Right To Assemble

Today school was canceled due to a snow storm that finally decided to arrive well after the kids could have easily attended a full day of school. NO worries. I love snow days. Somehow a snow day is different from a weekend, don't ask why. (Perhaps it is because my soap opera is on.)

Anyway, the kids assembled and decorated 4 gingerbread houses and I assembled one huge ass doll house for Ellie all by myself. It had 103 parts to assemble, and I did it in 2 hours. And it actually looks exactly as it should, as opposed to the play kitchen that I assembled myself and it ended up looking more like modern art than anything else.

I put the doll house in Ellie's room and removed her Rose Petal Cottage (big Hannukah gift from last hear that she never fucking played in). Of course, as soon as I took the Rose Petal Cottage out of her room, it was all she wanted to play with. Go figure.

$1 Latkes

Okay, first of all the training session with E went really well yesterday. I fucking quit after 20 minutes.

This morning I went in to make potato latkes with Adam's class at his school which also happens to be at the health club. I made Ellie come with us and she totally accused me of forcing her to play hooky. Whatever. She clearly had gotten over it in the first 15 minutes and proved it to me when she came up to me mid latke-making and said "Mommy, I like boys." (My kind of girl. Although I like men, not boys, but you catch my drift.)

Anyway, 20 kids (and my daughter in heat) gathered around me to make the latkes. We grated potatoes, onions and beat some eggs. We added flour and salt and we were good to go.

I told the kids all about the story of Hanukkah to which I heard a chorus of "Christmas is better" and even one kid chimed in "Christmas kicks Hannukah's ass" (Thanks Adam).

The director of the school came in to tell me that everyone was asking what smelled so good, and that the smell was permeating the club. She asked if there were any extras if she could pass the latkes out to some of the staff.

So, because I am no dummy (other than making a huge mistake by going to Costco the weekend before Christmas and the day before a huge snow storm), I told her "I will sell my latkes for $1.00 each."

I made $13 today. Nice. I really am Martha Jewart.

As I write this, the kids are asleep and I realize now would be a great time to hop on the treadmill and kick my own ass, so that is exactly what I will do.

Ciao, ciao for now.

Swimming in the 'ool

Okay, so this is the entry for today. I got up at 4:45 am and put on my bathing suit and sweats. I drove to the club in complete darkness and was pretty sure that I saw a UFO flying over the Saw Mill Parkway at some point, but I did not slow down to investigate (g-d forbid I was not the THIRD person to arrive at the club).

My boy Simon (he is from Australia (gorgeous) and arrives every day in a limo) was there to greet me at 5:05. I say "greet me" loosely, as I kind of think he is there for himself, not so much for me. But he is always very kind to me and says "hi" in only a way that Simon can. He completes me.

Anyway, I swam my laps, and at some point took my bathing cap off and was a bit of a recluse in breaking the ONE rule that applies to swimmers (you must wear a bathing cap). But now that I am in with the owner, I said to myself "fuck it, I am breaking this rule."

I can only trust that the unwritten rule of NOT peeing in the pool is understood by everyone.

After my swim, I showered and applied my own body lotion because as I mentioned yesterday, I smelled like a NYC cabbie. I smelled like a tropical coconut with an undeterminable other scent. I was not digging it. Anyway, today my cream smelled like cleanliness.

I left the gym, came home, prepared breakfast and got the kids ready for school. After dropping the kids off, I raced home, emptied the dishwasher, LOADED the dishwasher, started a load of laundry and got ready for my trainer. By getting ready for my trainer, I put on an all 80's XM station and threw my hair back in a pony tail. I also quickly shaved from my ankles to my mid-calf for when he stretched me out and has to grab around my ankles.

When my trainer arrived, I impressed him with my progress in cardio. I really did actually work out this week on my own aside from the swimming.

And then I made the dumb ass mistake of telling him that I think he has been slacking with my abdominal work.

The fucker had me get on the floor and do an abdominal workout that I don't even thing Sugar Ray Leonard could keep up with. HE THEN PICKED UP A MEDICINE BALL OUT OF HIS MARY FUCKING POPPINS BAG AND DROPPED IT ON MY STOMACH!!! He proceeded to do this 25 fucking times and each time told me to "tighten up my abs!!"

Well, excuse me, but don't you think that if I was in the shape to do this, I may NOT have thought that we needed to concentrate on my abs to begin with???!?!?!?!?!

All I know is that with each drop of the medicine ball, my boobs inflated even more and I swear once with one of the drops I think my head almost popped off.

Bottom line is he killed me today. Absofuckinglutely killed me.

I WAS going to ask him to start concentrating on my butt too, but who knows what kind of sadomasochistic behavior he would come up with????

Anyway, I am home and after I complete this I will prepare dinner... roast garlic chicken with roasted root vegetables, and homemade creamed spinach. With a BIG glass of red wine.

Of course I will tell my trainer that I ate an egg white omelette for dinner and drank a large glass of ice water with lemon.

Asshole.

Okay, carry on.

Cheers!!!