Little Orphan Annie

I am not one of the hypersensitive moms.  I do not shelter my child from everything.  I don't worry about the underlying adoption themes in the latest Disney movie (although I am surprised at how many seem to have it).  I take the approach that it will be a conversation at some point.  Might as well open the door and let her walk in and out.  Might as well let her approach the topic at various ages.  The reality is...I can not protect her.  She will be exposed to things (school, camp, friends, etc).  I can process with her.  I can talk with her.

But when I was on vacation I was surprised.  My parents took us to see a play at the local theater.  They asked first.  I knew what the play was.  I had seen it before.  We were going to see Annie.  She had even seen the movie a couple of years ago.  I knew the story.  And yet, I found myself squirming in my seat.  I sat on one end and she sat between my dad and step mom.  I could not even watch her in my discomfort.  Had I made a mistake?

The production was brutal.  I mean, it followed the script but it felt brutal.  Nobody loves her.  Her parents are coming for her.  It's a hard knock life.  Orphans must work.  Orphanage life is so bad every child wants to run away.  The only reason someone would want an orphanage is money.  A rich person will save you.  And provide the perfect life.  Seriously what did I do?

She did crawl onto my lap during intermission and hug me.  As I listened to the woman behind me talking to her companion about growing up in an orphanage in the 1940's.  But she watched the second half of the play without a problem.  And ha never brought it up.

Yet.

Mean Mama

afternoon antics

Today was 1/2 day Friday.  I had too many things to do to get sucked into working late.  So I left at 1pm.  And here is how my day went.

I was running an errand for a friend, La Mama Loca.  She needed me to pick up a dress for one of her daughters that she was buying on Craigslist.  We don't live anywhere near each other but we are taking a vacation together at the end of August.  And all of our girls need dresses to make them feel like princesses.  She found one on Craigslist in my area that she wanted and I agreed to get it for her.  As I left work, and got on the highway, I realized that I needed cash for this transaction.  Sometimes I feel like every time I buy something off of Craigslist I am doing a drug deal.  Cash only -- something I never have on me.  Drive up, hand over cash, grab a product.  Seems strange.  But I do it.

Since I didn't have cash, I turned around and went back to the bank.  I pulled up to the ATM.  Behind one car.  Where the driver seemed to not know how to drive or use the ATM.  Pulled too far away.  Backed up.  Pulled closer.  Still too far away.  So she unrolled the window, undid her seat belt, opened the door, and hung out the window to get to the machine.  I swear she put the card in 3 times while I waited for my turn.  Which turned out to be a good thing.  While I was waiting for her to do her thing I ATTEMPTED to take my debit card out of my purse.  But as a pulled it out, I hit it against the zipper of my purse.  The card flipped out of my hand and slipped between the center console and the passenger seat.

So while the driver in front of me was doing her acrobatics, I was doing my own.  I tried reaching down but it turned out my hand is too fat to fit.  I then leaned over, reached behind the passenger seat and grabbed for it under the seat.  I was grateful that I had actually hauled a bunch of trash out of the car earlier in the day since I could: a) see what I was grabbing for and b) was not grabbing at any surprises left by the child.  I am not sure why I did not just park the car, get out, walk around and open the back door to get the card.  Apparently I thought twisting myself into a pretzel was not only easier but looked less strange to anybody who might be spying on me.

Money in hand, I proceeded to the meeting... to get the contraband dress.  As I was approaching the meeting site I decided that exact change was important.  I mean I had two $20 bills.  But the dress was costing $25.  So I decided to stop at Starbucks for a Iced Chai Latte.  Love those.  Not really on the diet but it is hot and I was thirsty and I needed to change my cash.  But the one Starbucks that I found did not have a drive thru.  Which given the ATM drive thru, may have been a good thing.  MAY!  I got out of the car and walked toward the entrance.  There was a tall, goofy looking guy sitting at table outside.  I was wondering why in this ridiculous heat he would be outside when I realized he was looking right at me.  I kept walking in his direction -- because he was sitting right next to the door.  He looked like he was holding his breath.  He was sweating -- it was hot.  He looked nervous.  And then as I passed him he let out a big sigh and looked relieved.  I am pretty sure he was either waiting for a blind date or a computer date and he was relieved the fat, old chick was not the one he was waiting for.

I proceeded inside to get my drink and ended up behind a very tall, trim (read trim as less then 5% body fat) woman ordering her drink.  Sally.  You know, When Harry Met Sally.  Seriously it took her 5 minutes to order her drink.  I specifically heard her say she wanted a cold drink and then I tuned her out - mostly.  She had her own mug -- which is good.  But then they had to clean it out for her.  And she asked for her "ice" on the side.  I was wondering if "ice on the side" is the same as "dressing on the side."  When she was done I ordered mine and we waited for the drinks.

Hers was done first and she grabbed her mug and cup of ice.  She opened the mug and took one look at the coffee inside and made a face and a loud "EEEEWWWWW!"   And handed it back to the guy making the drinks.  He seemed genuinely confused.  It turned out that she wanted the coffee hot and then she would add the ice herself.  To cool it down to the desired temperature.  So I waited while coffee guy fixed the obvious mistake.

And then I was off to meet the dealer woman selling the dress.  I pulled up in front of the store, a perfectly put together, fit, trim, expensive looking woman stepped over to my car.  I slipped her some money and she handed over a basically brand new, dry cleaned dress.  I got back in the car and drove off.  Transaction complete.  Well...almost.

Once I arrived home, I unwrapped the dress and took pictures of the beautiful dress.

I sent the pictures to La Mama Loca.  About an hour later she texted me to let me know ... it was the wrong dress.

Really!

Mean Mama

Conversations

On the way to drop Ladybug off at camp:

Ladybug: Mom, if there were no trees would we die?
Mama: Ummmm.  Well, maybe not.  But it would change things.
Ladybug: How?
Mama: Well trees give us air to breathe.
Ladybug: And shade.
Mama: True.
Ladybug: Would all the plants die?
Mama: Maybe.
Ladybug: Like in a desert.
Mama: Maybe.
Ladybug: But want if it doesn't rain?
Mama: Well, then it causes what is called a drought.
Ladybug: Would people just move away if there was no rain?
Mama: Well, people can't always just move.
Ladybug: So do they die?
Mama:  Maybe.  Depends how bad the drought is.
Ladybug: Is there a drought now?
Mama: Well there is one in parts of Ethiopia right now.
Ladybug: Is that why my first mom died?
Mama: No.  She died because she got sick.
Ladybug: What made her sick?
Mama: Something got in her blood and made her sick.
Ladybug: What?
Mama: It is called a virus.
Ladybug: I have been sick before.
Mama: Yes, but not with this virus.
Ladybug:  Ok.

And then we arrived at camp.  How is my child?

Mean Mama

Honeymoon is over

It has been a hard week. Not like they use to be.  But I got use to the calm.  I got use to the love.  I relaxed.

Things had been going well.  There had been a little bit of attitude during vacation but nothing to write home about.  First week back from vacation was good.  No real problems.  Which is actually a huge improvement.  Normally we come home from vacation and it is like re-entering the earth's orbit.  This time it was easy.

But on Tuesday I got the first call from camp.  Which I guess I should be happy about.  Camp started June 13th and the first call was on July 19th.  Not too bad.

Actually I guess I should back up a day ... or two.  On Sunday I unpacked her backpack.  I found a shirt I did not recognize.  I asked her about it.  She said it was hers.  I reminded her that I am her only parent and I buy all her clothes.  It was not hers.  She said a counselor gave it to her.  I called BS.  She insisted.  I told her she had to take it back.  But she brought it home on Monday again.  She said the counselor said she could keep it.  I told her no.

So the first call came on Tuesday.  A very nice counselor.   She said Ladybug had gotten mad at one of her friends and started throwing the boy's things away.  A counselor confronted her and she shut down.  Refused to talk.  She refused to follow instructions.  For about an hour.  Then they stuck her in a younger kid group and called me.

I was immediately concerned.  My child is bullying (and I hate that word) a peer so you put her with younger kids?  I mean, I get it.  She is acting younger so treat her younger.  But she is not a normal child.  So I was worried.  But it worked.  But while I had the counselor on the phone I gave her some concrete hints on how to handle her in those situations.  Eye contact.  Calm voice.  No threats.  Promises.  Follow through.  And let her know if she can't pull it together I will come get her.  Immediately.

The second call came on Wednesday.  Yes!  When it rains, it pours.  She had problems again.  But that is not why the counselor was calling.  The counselor was calling me to tell me that my hints ... my suggestions ... worked.  I know.  I mean I don't want to sound cocky ... but I live with the girl.  But as much as I was glad that it worked for her, I was worried.  Ladybug was testing.  She was going to see how far she could push.

And I was tired.  Work has been HELL.  Lots of work.  Everybody wants a divorce.  Nobody wants to compromise.  Everybody feels justified in their poor behaviors.  Nobody wants to wait for things to settle.  I mean it.  One woman called in a huff saying that if she could not do an initial consult THAT DAY with a promise of a draft THAT DAY then she would go somewhere else.  I encouraged her to do so.  The big boss has something going on that he is not talking about.  He has a ton of doctor appointments lately.  And mini boss...well that would take a novel to explain.  Either way neither is doing much work.  So I am stressed.  And not sleeping.  And Ladybug can feel it.

On Friday the third call came.  I love how each phone call starts with "Ladybug is fine."  And a part of me wishes that were not the case.  Not that I wished she was hurt.  But I also wish she wasn't doing the hurting.  This call required that she be picked up.  With a warning.  If she gets in trouble again, she will be suspended for 3 days.  Perfect!  What would I do with her for 3 days?  I have to work.  I have no family in the area.  I have no friends who can take her.  UGH!  She spent the afternoon sitting on my office floor drawing apology cards while I worked on Friday.

So what was her crime that got her kicked out for the day?  On a dare, she pulled the swimming trunks of a boy down while at the pool.  A friend.  I was horrified.  Really. We talked until she cried.  I tried not to cry.  I mostly succeeded.  I really wanted her to get to the point of her crying.  Not to be cruel.  But to get her past the anger stage and into the feeling stage.

We slept last night.  A lot.  She slept almost 12 hours.  She also took a nap today.  Voluntarily.  And in bed at a decent time.  Fingers and toes are crossed.  Breath is shallow.  Heart rate is raised.  And really hoping this week is a success for her.

Mean Mama

Quotes

Ladybug made me giggle today.

In the car:

Mama: Honey, I love the outfit you picked out today.  It matches and it looks fabulous on you.
Ladybug: (singing) I'm too sexy for shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts.
Mama: Where did you learn that song?
Ladybug: Shrek.


Doing hair:

Ladybug: I have decided what I want to do when I grow up.
Mama: Great!  What?
Ladybug: Be a bank robber.
Mama: (hmmmm...guess we need to have a conversation)

Watching So You Think You Can Dance:

Ladybug: What is a Snoop Dogg?
Mama:  Wait a minute and you will see.
Mama: Look, Honey, that is him.
Ladybug: He doesn't look like a dog.
Mama: That is his name.
Ladybug: Well then...where are the cats?

Mean Mama

Shoes!

I am back in shoes.  Well, for a few days now but I have been lazy and not blogged.

On Sunday I put on a pair of sneakers.  And I immediately wished I had bought a pair of sneakers with a bigger toe box.  Just being enclosed in the shoes caused enough pressure on my poor broken toe that it was generally painful.  But I kept it on.  The sole of the sneakers was not stiff enough to assist with the clutch without pain either.  But I remained hopeful

On Monday I decided to try my sandals.  I slipped my shoe on and felt -- nothing.  It was fine.  No pain.  And because it was a Dansko with a thick sole -- it didn't even hurt to shift.  And as I drove to work being very happy with my shoe choice I remembered a conversation I had with a friend just hours before I broke my toe.

We were walking around a hip town looking for a birthday present for my step mom when we passed a little store selling "comfortable" shoes.  I am all about comfort.  I love my Dansko shoes.  So I turned to my friend and suggested that perhaps she should consider getting a pair. 

Friend:  I have 60 pairs.
Mama: (thinking about the idea of having 60 pairs of shoes because I am pretty sure that I have about 10 pairs) Yes, but you need a pair of Dansko.
Friend:  I know.  I have 60 pairs.
Mama: (dawning) Of Dansko?
Friend: Yes.
Mama: (chin dropping) Plus other types of shoes?
Friend: Yes.
Mama:  Really?
Friend:  You know I have a shopping problem.
Mama: But 60?
Friend:  I am not allowed on Ebay anymore.

So now I am a regular visitor of Ebay wondering if I will make my first Ebay purchase.

Mean Mama

texting and driving

While I was on vacation visiting my parents we got into a conversation regarding driving and texting.  I find this an absolutely ridiculous practice.  I don't understand what can possibly be so important that you need to be texting while driving.  We didn't use to have texting and we survived.  We didn't even have cell phones and we survived.  It just seems to be an unnecessary risk.  Some states even make it illegal -- but it doesn't seem to stop anybody.

Surprisingly my father disagreed with me.  Not because he does it -- he doesn't.  But he said that those who text a lot are so good at it that it is really not a risk.  Ummm??  No!  I would not agree with this.  At which point he told me that my younger sister does this and has never had a problem.  I think that means she has just been lucky.  He said she is so good at it that she doesn't have to even look at the phone.  Really???  Then how is she reading those texts that she is responding to?

I am not buying it.

And then on Friday I was driving down an in town 2 lane road.  The driver in front of me was all over the road.  Mostly straddling the center line but slowly going from one lane to the next.  I kept my distance figuring it was safer to be behind than in front.  He was so all over that I was sure that he was drunk.  And I wondered how he could be driving drunk at 1pm.  We finally pulled up to a red light at the same time and he was turning so I pulled up next to him.

Only it wasn't a him.  And she wasn't drunk.  She was a teenager or young 20's girl -- texting.  So no buying that it is safe to text and drive.

Mean Mama

Opinions wanted!

I want your opinion...really.

So today I found out that one of my bosses has been issued a concealed weapons permit.  Which means he can bring a gun to work.  How would you feel if this were your job?

Don't get me wrong...I am neither for or against guns.  I know how to shoot a gun and even found pleasure with doing target practice.  I have worked in a police department before so been around guns.  I have very good friends who are cops so they have guns in their house and I have no issues being in their house. 

I do not own a gun.  I made a very deliberate choice not to own a gun.
I do not own any kind of weapon -- except kitchen knives.
I use to carry mace when in college even though the police suggested against it.  I no longer do.

Give me opinions please.

Mean Mama

lunch issues

I was hungry today.  I wanted to eat.  But I didn't get my act together until noon.  It was my turn to retrieve lunch -- despite having a broken toe.  It took forever.  Forever!  Construction on the road.  My co-workers were beginning to think that maybe I had taken off.  But I didn't -- even though I wanted to.

We sat down to our lunches -- salads.  I was being good.  A chef salad.  With low-fat ranch.  I talked while I poured the dressing on. And when it was all on I realized that it was not low-fat ranch.  It was bleu cheese dressing.

Bleu cheese is one of the things I hate.  There are only a few things that I hate more.  Beer, coffee, and fish.  I can not bring myself to consume those things -- ever.  Cheese should be consumed before it gets moldy.

So by now it was 1pm.  And I was heading out again.  To get lunch.  Again.  Twice in one day.

Mean Mama

Everybody dies

One morning during vacation Ladybug came to my bedroom and woke me up...sobbing.  Tears were streaming down her face.

As I mentioned before, mornings are not my thing.  And she is waking me up.  Sobbing.  As I struggled to wake up all I could think was, "This is not a drill!  Wake up.  Deal with it.  Repeat, this is NOT a drill!"

Mama: Honey, what is wrong?
Ladybug: I...sob...don't...sob...want...sob...to...sob...die.
Mama:  What?  Who said you are going to die?
Ladybug:  You did!
Mama: (quick, think...what is she talking about?  I said it?)  What?  I said you were going to die?  When?
Ladybug:  A long time ago.  And I don't want to die.
Mama: (I seriously have no recollection of this)  Oh Honey, I don't remember saying that.  You are not going to die.  You are a little girl.  You have a long life ahead of you. (please let that be true)
Ladybug:  Okay.

And skips out of the room.  I collapse on the bed. 

Good morning.

Mean Mama

eating on vacation

I knew that going to vacation to my father's house was going be good for my diet.  Of course it was going to be good.  There was no other option.  They eat like birds.

My step mom weighs about 110 pounds.  And I am not exaggerating.  When she was 9 months pregnant she might have gotten up to about 130 pounds.  Maybe.

I really do like my step mom.  I should.  I brought her into the family.  Literally.  My dad was living with someone else when I brought her home.  Soon the girl friend was gone and my step mom was in.  I like her.  But she has no idea what it is like to be fat...clueless.

So I was looking forward to the week of starvation.  Or more accurately I was looking forward to the results of a week of starvation.  She is a good cook.  She made a ham steak.  The package said it was 2.5 servings.  So she was sure it was enough for 4 people.  I could eat that by myself.  Which might explain why I am not 110 pounds.

As I was hungry...starving...wondering where the nearest fast food joint was (which is about 1/2 hour drive from their house) she informs me that both she and my dad have gained weight during my stay at their house.  Gained?  How?  Is it possible?  They gained weight while I was starving?

And then I got home last night, weighed myself this morning, and...well let's just say that I have a lot of work to do before the Weight Watcher's meeting on Wednesday night.  How did I gain weight?  Too?

Mean Mama

Ooops, I did it again!

So, on the advise of my therapist, I decided to take some "me" time.  I arranged for Ladybug to stay at my parents house (actually they were suppose to go camping but it stormed so they couldn't) while I drove a couple of hours away to visit some friends.  Wonderful amazing friends that I miss living so far from them. 

I prepared Ladybug.  But I wasn't worried.  She loves my dad and step mom.  She ignores me most of the time when we are at their house.  But right before I left she got worried.  I assured her they had my cell phone number and she could call me at any time.  I would not mind.  But I never thought in a million years that she would call. 

I left the house at 10am.  I got my first call at about 1:30pm while eating lunch.  SURPRISE!

I went shopping.  I walked the beach.  I hung out with a friend.  And then I drove a little farther away to spend some time with another friend.  We hung out.  We had dinner.  I planned to spend the night.  I got another phone call from Ladybug.

We headed to bed at about 1am.  As we were getting ready, I turned around and walked straight into her dog, Tank.  Tank is a big strong solid dog.  He is appropriately named.  I rammed my foot into his leg.  And I felt instant pain.  It is a pain I have felt before.  Many times.  So I new instantly that I had broken my toe.  The question was...did I also dislocate it?  Which I have also done many times.  A broken toes, they can do very little about.  A dislocated toe requires the help of a doctor to put back into place.

I waited it out.  I crawled in bed.  I shook with pain.  Literally shook.  So at about 1:30am we got up and drove to the nearest hospital - and since she lives in the middle of the boonies that took some time.  The good news is that they took my vitals and registered me quickly.  The even better news is that there was NOBODY else in the waiting room.  NOBODY!  This could be quick. 

The bad news is that I ended up waiting in the waiting room for about 1 hour.  An entire hour!  With the TV tuned to Glenn Beck.  For a liberal democrat in so much pain from her own stupidity, there is very little else that could be more torturous then being forced to watch an hour of Glenn Beck in the middle of the night.  But I was eventually rescued by being brought back to my room.  Where I waited.  For about an hour...until the x-ray tech was ready.  Really?  An hour?  Because she had so many other people to x-ray?  Because there was NOBODY else in the hospital! 

The good news was that it was not dislocated.  The bad news was that it was broken.  Hospital bills, long night, for a broken toe.  We left the hospital at about 5am.

The vicodin has worn off.  I need to drive back to my parents today.  Do I do that now?  In the middle of the day?  And cut my visit with friends short?  Or do I stick with my plans?  Wait it out?   Have dinner with friends and then drive?

Oh, and did I mention that the toe I broke is my pinkie on my left foot?  And did I mention I drive a standard?  And did I mention that I have a 19 hour drive to get home?  And my child is too young to drive?

Sadly, this is not the first time I have done this.  Or the second.  Or even the third.  Seriously.  I have broken this toe at least 12 times -- I lost count over the years.  But I do know that this is at least break number 5 since May of 2005.

Mean Mama

Being debt free

Tomorrow I will be able to write checks.  Checks for everything.  So that I can be debt free.  I will be paying off 3 credit cards.  I will be paying off 2 school loans.  I will be paying of my car loan.  I will be paying off yet another medical bill.

That will leave me with... NO DEBT.

Well .... kind of.

I am technically cheating at the debt free.  It is true I will have no credit card debt, school loans, or car loan.  It is true I will have no mortgage -- but I will still have rent.  It is true I will be debt free to any commercial body that is charging me interest.

How?

Pure dumb luck.  A few months ago I was having a conversation with my parents.  I was trying to figure out if I could afford to take a pay cut by taking a new job -- think I might have blogged about it.  I talked to them about cashing out my IRA...taking the penalty and tax hit...and paying off some of my major debt (credit cards) and refinancing my car.  At my age how much sense does it make to deplete my IRA and start over with nothing?  Or do I just continue to drown in commercial debt and hope each month that I stay afloat?  I was really just looking for advise on what made the most sense for me.

But what came out of it was a loan.  Yes, a loan... hence the reason why I am cheating at the debt free.  My parents offered to loan me the money I need to pay off all of my debt...interest free.  Yes, it is a loan.  I am paying it back.  Every little penny.  And since I am a paralegal, I even wrote up a loan agreement.  The nice things are: 1) it is interest free, 2) my monthly bills will greatly diminish, and 3) I can take longer to pay it back.

Then came the embarrassing task of figuring out how much this would take.  How much did they need to loan me to make it so I am debt free?  I still owe about 10k on the school loans.  I still owe about 10k on the car.  And after adding it all up, I owe about 8.5k on credit cards.  So I was asking for 28.5k from my parents.  This seemed ridiculous to me.  Really.  I mean, school and transportation is important.  But I need $28,500.  Who just has that kind of cash just laying around...ready to be loaned out?  Apparently my parents do.  Who knew???  How??  Seriously, how can I be that far in debt and they just have the cash?

It will make my life easier.  Less stress.  And hopefully that means I will be happier.

And, yes, I do realize just how lucky I am to have this.

Mean Mama

Some July 4th sights

Just some things we saw today:

And then we finished the day off with:

Mean Mama

Timing

When I was trying to get pregnant -- many moons ago -- and wasn't each month people would say "This is happening for a reason."  I hate that phrase.  It is not that I wanted to be pregnant.  Actually I never wanted to be pregnant.  The thought of giving birth just seems wrong to me in so many way.  It is that I wanted to be a mom and at the time artificial insemination was an easier and cheaper way of getting there.  Adoption was always my top choice but it didn't seem possible.

At the end of 2003 (after I had stopped trying to get pregnant some time before that) I decided that I would try one more time.  But this time I was giving myself a very narrow window in order to get pregnant.  One month.  I was in paralegal school at the time.  I was planning on graduating in December 2004 and then moving.  I wanted to be able to give birth right around graduation so that I could use my moving time as my maternity leave.  I didn't want to be job hunting while obviously pregnant. 

So I tried to get pregnant one more time.  But did not succeed.  One of my good friends had given birth in January 2004.  Another was due in August 2004.  I was not going to be giving birth in December 2004.  I got over it.  For the most part.

On my last day of school in December 2004 I thought about it.  First, a lot of my classmates were pregnant so it was in my face a lot.  Second, I was about to be making changes in my life and I thought about the one change I was not making.  Third, it was one of my biological brothers' birthday and it made me think about the fact that it was not my child's birthday - the child I didn't have.

As we all know, 18 months later I received a call.  A middle of the night call that told me that I was finally a mom.  I learned 2 things in that phone call (they had limited information during that first phone call).  The first was that she was a girl -- no surprise there.  The second was her birthday.  December 9, 2004.   The last day of my classes, my biological brother's birthday. 

It is all in the timing.

Mean Mama

travel karma

I have seriously bad travel karma.  I do not say that to garner sympathy.  It is just a simple fact of my life.  I know people who will not travel with me.  They will go places with me but they just meet me there.  They will not travel with me. 

I hate to fly.  I hate roller coaster rides and I hate to fly.  So I avoid it whenever possible.  So that means I drive when we go on vacation -- unless it is not a realistic option.  So I have spent the last 2 days driving.  Luckily, Ladybug is a good car rider -- once I understood that she actually does get car sick and must have medication to avoid this.

We started out on our trip yesterday morning.  I planned to be on the road at 6am but we actually made it on the road at 7am.  One of the good things about driving is that there is flexibility.  I normally take highway A from my house to highway B and then continue on.  At the last minute yesterday I decided to take highway C to highway B.  This required me to take a bunch of back roads first.  I hit every single possible red light for the first 30 minutes of the trip.  I would have been banging my head on a brick wall -- if I had packed one.  At the last red light I was thinking that I had made a stupid mistake when I heard a traffic report that said that highway A was a parking lot all the way to highway B.  Score one for Mean Mama!

For the first 45 minutes of the trip I kept turning around and looking at Ladybug.  She seemed different.  She wasn't sitting right.  And it didn't look comfortable.  Something was different.  But I couldn't put my finger on it.  Finally after 45 minutes -- and about 20 minutes on highway C my light bulb went off and I spun my head around and looked.  She did not have her seat belt on!  Worst mommy moment ever.  Are you kidding me???  How did I forget this (and yes, it is my responsibility since she can not reach about her bulking car seat and buckle the belt herself).  I always remember.  There was a rest stop 2 miles down the road and I held my breath.  Mean Mama's score dropped dramamtically.

Before heading out the door I made an iced chair latte for myself -- one of my weaknesses.  I thought it would help with my long (14 hours was planned for this day but I worried it would be longer considering it was the Friday of a holiday weekend) car trip.  After I successfully buckled Ladybug at the rest stop I took a moment and took my first long sip of my favorite drink.  Apparently I had neglected to rinse out the soap from my cup that morning before putting the latte in it.  So all I tasted was soap.  Yuck!!!!  I think my score is in the negative now.

Please tell me this is not how the trip is going to go!

The good news is that I made it.  In 14 hours.  With no further mishaps.  No major traffic delays.  No puke.  No fits.  We arrived...tired but happy and in one piece.

We played this morning then got back in the car and drove another 5 hours.  No mishaps.  No problems.  And arrived this evening.  Travel karma is good to this time.  Let the vacation begin!

But I am exhausted.  I have typed this post with my eyes closed.  So if there are errors that is why.

The grandfather clock is telling me it is way past my bedtime... 

Mean Mama