My baby brother is getting married this weekend. I want to start by saying that: 1) It makes me feel old that my BABY brother is taking the plunge and getting hitched. I remember when he was born. How is it possible that he is old enough for this to happen, 2) I am very happy that he has found the love of his life, and 3) I SOOOO can't wait for him to have kids. They are gonna love Auntie Daisy! And I am gonna love watching he and the Mrs. navigate parenthood. Insert Dr. Evil maniacal laugh here--Mwa-ha-ha-ha!
I am very excited for the pending nuptials, but I think, perhaps, what I am the most excited about, is that Bowser and I are getting an ENTIRE child-free weekend. That hasn't happened since...well...since we were actually child-free. The Goombas will be spending four glorious days with Grandma and Grandpa. They are so excited that they are already counting down the seconds till they get their "vacation" at Grandma's house. When I asked Mario if he would miss us while we were gone, he replied, "I will pretend if you want me to." Thanks, honey. Don't worry, the feeling is mutual.
I imagine Thursday morning to go something like this...
7:20 a.m. -- Grandma arrives to pick up Goombas.
7:23 -- Give Grandma list of important info (ie: medication, pediatrician number, false contact info for Mom and Dad).
7:25 -- Say good-bye, kiss Goombas, lots of hugs and snuggles.
7:26 -- Bowser and I jump in car, screaming "FREEDOM!!!!!!!!!!!" Braveheart style, at the top of our lungs, laughing all the way to the airport.
Please, don't get me wrong. I love my children with all my heart and soul. Of course I will miss them. But, they have been in constant contact with my body since, I think, forever. A weekend away is just what the doctor ordered.
Oh, to lie in a hotel bed, with the shades pulled till sometime past 6:30 a.m. To go out for the evening without worrying about getting home too late for the babysitter. To wear a beautiful dress without vomit or snot wiped down the front--unless, of course, it is my own. High heels, champagne, no dirty diapers. Four full days of being Daisy again. Not Mom. Just Daisy. I can hardly contain myself.
I am so giddy with excitement, in fact, that I already have my bags packed. As a self-proclaimed Queen of Procrastination, this is a big deal. My strappy dancing shoes are in the bag, along with a vast assortment of large earrings that I can't wear around the Goombas. (I happen to like my earlobes, the Goombas like to see how far they will stretch when they pull on said large earrings.) Who knows...I might even pack the "fancy panties" for the weekend. Of course, since I haven't worn them since pre-kids, they might not look so "fancy" anymore, so maybe scratch that.
The thing is, I just want to catch that glimpse of the old me again. The irresponsible, fun-loving, party girl. Because, I know that after just a couple of days, I'll be ready to come back and be the me that I am now. Mommy to the Goombas, responsible, still fun-loving Daisy.
So, congrats to you, Lil' Bro and Almost-Mrs. Lil' Bro! I can't wait to see you both this weekend! If you have trouble finding me, I'll be the one planted strategically between the bar and the dance floor the entire night.
Cheers!
~Daisy
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Toy Madness
It is official. The toys have taken over my house. They are everywhere. In the living room, littering the bedrooms, trailing into the bathrooms, hanging around the kitchen, sneaking up under my feet, hiding under the couches.... Are you getting the picture? The toys are literally everywhere. I would even venture to say that we have more toys than an actual toy store.
I am not really sure how it got this out of control. I remember a time, long, long ago, when all of Mario's little baby toys fit into one basket in our living room. Then it was 2 baskets. Then a bucket. Then some started going into his room. When we moved into our current house, I had a nice little set up in the living room with some storage bins.
When Luigi came along, I thought our stock of fun items would maybe double. But, as the French would say, "au contraire, mon frère." They do not only double, they actually multiply exponentially. Then, when you add a girl to the mix, it is really like starting all over again, since, obviously, no girl can play with--GASP!--used Matchbox cars! And so you once again multiply the vastness of the toy collection by the next exponent. (**Disclaimer--I do not know, nor do I claim to know anything about math beyond, say, a first grade level. But, I would imagine that multiplying by the next exponent means a helluva lot of stuff.)
In an effort to try to contain the plethora of toys into one space, we gave up our dining room and turned it into a full blown room of fun. The Goombas have their very own Toy Room. I put a carpet over the hardwood floors to make it cozy. We hung brightly colored kid stuff on the walls. We put bins and baskets and a kid size table in the room. It looked so very nice--for about 13 seconds. Then the kids went in to play. Suddenly nothing was in it's well organized space anymore. Toys scattered into the far corners of the room and most have never found their way home again.
Then, slowly, they began migrating out of the Toy Room. Suddenly bins were showing up back in the living room. Some toys, the ones that aren't played with much, were sent to the basement where they are flung far and wide. Other toys, the "special" toys, migrated into bedrooms. And yet, the Toy Room was also still chock full of stuff! It's not like once it left the Toy Room there was an empty space. Oh no, no, no! Once one toy leaves, it is as though another one magically appears to take it's place.
Just a few weeks ago, I decided to tackle the monstrous mass of toys. I threw away everything that was broken. I made a donate pile for things the Goombas don't play with anymore. And I found a spot for everything else. I moved everything that had migrated into the living room, back into the Toy Room. My house was mine again for an entire 23 minutes, and then naptime was over and, well... I'm sure you can guess what has happened since.
I try to get the Goombas to help pick up every night. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Frankly, at the end of every day, I am so exhausted that I usually just kick the toys around to make a path up to my bed. It's not like they won't all be out again tomorrow, so really, why even bother?
The way I see it, someday my living room will be completely toy-free. I will have fancy knick-knacks on my coffee table and no fingerprints on the television. I won't step on trains and legos anymore. I won't wake up to strange voices because the cat knocked a "talking" dolly off the bookshelf. I won't sit on the couch and feel a pile of stuffed animals "camping" under the cushions. And I have a strange feeling that I will miss those things.
So, maybe my house looks a little untidy. Maybe the toys take up more living space than our actual family does. But, that is ok with me. And now, I must sign off. I have to make a path from my bed to my bathroom so that I don't slip on one of our hundreds of Matchbox cars in the middle of the night.
Cheers!
~Daisy
I am not really sure how it got this out of control. I remember a time, long, long ago, when all of Mario's little baby toys fit into one basket in our living room. Then it was 2 baskets. Then a bucket. Then some started going into his room. When we moved into our current house, I had a nice little set up in the living room with some storage bins.
When Luigi came along, I thought our stock of fun items would maybe double. But, as the French would say, "au contraire, mon frère." They do not only double, they actually multiply exponentially. Then, when you add a girl to the mix, it is really like starting all over again, since, obviously, no girl can play with--GASP!--used Matchbox cars! And so you once again multiply the vastness of the toy collection by the next exponent. (**Disclaimer--I do not know, nor do I claim to know anything about math beyond, say, a first grade level. But, I would imagine that multiplying by the next exponent means a helluva lot of stuff.)
In an effort to try to contain the plethora of toys into one space, we gave up our dining room and turned it into a full blown room of fun. The Goombas have their very own Toy Room. I put a carpet over the hardwood floors to make it cozy. We hung brightly colored kid stuff on the walls. We put bins and baskets and a kid size table in the room. It looked so very nice--for about 13 seconds. Then the kids went in to play. Suddenly nothing was in it's well organized space anymore. Toys scattered into the far corners of the room and most have never found their way home again.
Then, slowly, they began migrating out of the Toy Room. Suddenly bins were showing up back in the living room. Some toys, the ones that aren't played with much, were sent to the basement where they are flung far and wide. Other toys, the "special" toys, migrated into bedrooms. And yet, the Toy Room was also still chock full of stuff! It's not like once it left the Toy Room there was an empty space. Oh no, no, no! Once one toy leaves, it is as though another one magically appears to take it's place.
Just a few weeks ago, I decided to tackle the monstrous mass of toys. I threw away everything that was broken. I made a donate pile for things the Goombas don't play with anymore. And I found a spot for everything else. I moved everything that had migrated into the living room, back into the Toy Room. My house was mine again for an entire 23 minutes, and then naptime was over and, well... I'm sure you can guess what has happened since.
I try to get the Goombas to help pick up every night. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Frankly, at the end of every day, I am so exhausted that I usually just kick the toys around to make a path up to my bed. It's not like they won't all be out again tomorrow, so really, why even bother?
The way I see it, someday my living room will be completely toy-free. I will have fancy knick-knacks on my coffee table and no fingerprints on the television. I won't step on trains and legos anymore. I won't wake up to strange voices because the cat knocked a "talking" dolly off the bookshelf. I won't sit on the couch and feel a pile of stuffed animals "camping" under the cushions. And I have a strange feeling that I will miss those things.
So, maybe my house looks a little untidy. Maybe the toys take up more living space than our actual family does. But, that is ok with me. And now, I must sign off. I have to make a path from my bed to my bathroom so that I don't slip on one of our hundreds of Matchbox cars in the middle of the night.
Cheers!
~Daisy
Friday, July 2, 2010
A Visit from the Parents
Aaaahhh...I am breathing a sigh of relief right now. At this very moment, my Mom is sitting at our kitchen table, drinking coffee and entertaining the Goombas. Words cannot even begin to describe how happy I am that Zazzy and Papa are here.
When they arrived last night, the house filled with shrieks of joy. And the kids were pretty excited, too. Peach clamored over Zazzy, while Mario and Luigi glued themselves to Papa's sides. At dawn this morning, all three Goombas were standing at their door trying to decide if it would be ok to go wake them up. I, myself, was thinking the same thing.
I love when Zazzy and Papa are here for so very many reasons. The first and foremost is that I miss them so much. When I was young, I couldn't wait to get out of my parents house. College couldn't come fast enough. Then I got married and, sure, I missed them, but there was always the phone and email. Then, the Goombas came. I decided then that, given the chance, I would just move back in with them. I call them three times a day, and I count days in between visits.
A close second, in my favorite things about a visit from the 'rents, is that they LOVE to play with and spend time with the Goombas. Which, in turn, means free time for Mommy! Not that I go out and do anything by myself. But, I actually have my hands free to do things like unload the dishwasher in one fell swoop, rather than having to sneak in a dish here and there throughout the morning. The Goombas love the undivided attention and the fact that Zaz and Pap don't yell as much as their crazy mother.
Some more things that make their visits the happiest of times...
~Zazzy always tackles and destroys Mt. Washmore for me. When she leaves there is not a spot of dirty laundry left in the house. Of course, by the next day, the mountain is piled high again, but for that short, glorious time, there is no laundry to do.
~Papa always does a project for me. You know how you can ask your husband over and over again to hang up that picture in the hallway? And there just never seems to be time to get it done? I save all those projects for my Daddy and he does them with glee. Well, maybe not glee, but he does them and it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside to finally see our family portrait from 3 years ago hanging outside my bedroom.
~When my parents are here there is an endless supply of beer and food. I don't have to count points, or cut myself off. The kids also thoroughly enjoy this because in addition to beer and food, this also means there is an endless supply of sugary treats. Which is fine with me. (*See above, RE: they watch the kids)
~We play lots of card games and laugh a LOT. I feel I must tell a story here...
One evening, Bowser, Zazzy, Papa and I were playing a heated game of Phase 10 (if you have never played this game, I highly recommend it) when we started discussing song lyrics. I said, "You know that song, Muskrat Love? How dumb is that? Nibbling on bacon, chewing on cheese? They must have been on crack!" Now, I will preface what is about to happen with the fact that I am notorious for mis-interpreting song lyrics. So, Papa said, "Yeah, right. That is not what they say. It was a really popular song." A friendly argument ensued and so I went to my iPod and played "Muskrat Love," by The Captain and Tenille. (Please, don't ask why I have The Captain and Tenille on my iPod. Maybe it is me that is on crack.) Sure enough, the lyrics belted out, "Nibbling on bacon, Chewin' on cheese..." Papa laughed so hard that he actually fell out of his chair. We laughed so hard at Papa falling out of his chair that Zazzy and I might have pee'd in our pants just a tiny bit. Now it has become tradition, every time we get out the card game, we also have to put "Muskrat Love" on the iPod.
And now, as I am relaxing with my coffee, writing my humble little blog, my Mommy is sweeping my floor and making plans with the Goombas. Papa is holding Peach and letting her pet his beard. Oh happy, happy day! I can tell this is going to be a GREAT weekend! Oooh, look! Beer and donuts for breakfast...I just LOVE when my parents are here!
Cheers!
~Daisy
When they arrived last night, the house filled with shrieks of joy. And the kids were pretty excited, too. Peach clamored over Zazzy, while Mario and Luigi glued themselves to Papa's sides. At dawn this morning, all three Goombas were standing at their door trying to decide if it would be ok to go wake them up. I, myself, was thinking the same thing.
I love when Zazzy and Papa are here for so very many reasons. The first and foremost is that I miss them so much. When I was young, I couldn't wait to get out of my parents house. College couldn't come fast enough. Then I got married and, sure, I missed them, but there was always the phone and email. Then, the Goombas came. I decided then that, given the chance, I would just move back in with them. I call them three times a day, and I count days in between visits.
A close second, in my favorite things about a visit from the 'rents, is that they LOVE to play with and spend time with the Goombas. Which, in turn, means free time for Mommy! Not that I go out and do anything by myself. But, I actually have my hands free to do things like unload the dishwasher in one fell swoop, rather than having to sneak in a dish here and there throughout the morning. The Goombas love the undivided attention and the fact that Zaz and Pap don't yell as much as their crazy mother.
Some more things that make their visits the happiest of times...
~Zazzy always tackles and destroys Mt. Washmore for me. When she leaves there is not a spot of dirty laundry left in the house. Of course, by the next day, the mountain is piled high again, but for that short, glorious time, there is no laundry to do.
~Papa always does a project for me. You know how you can ask your husband over and over again to hang up that picture in the hallway? And there just never seems to be time to get it done? I save all those projects for my Daddy and he does them with glee. Well, maybe not glee, but he does them and it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside to finally see our family portrait from 3 years ago hanging outside my bedroom.
~When my parents are here there is an endless supply of beer and food. I don't have to count points, or cut myself off. The kids also thoroughly enjoy this because in addition to beer and food, this also means there is an endless supply of sugary treats. Which is fine with me. (*See above, RE: they watch the kids)
~We play lots of card games and laugh a LOT. I feel I must tell a story here...
One evening, Bowser, Zazzy, Papa and I were playing a heated game of Phase 10 (if you have never played this game, I highly recommend it) when we started discussing song lyrics. I said, "You know that song, Muskrat Love? How dumb is that? Nibbling on bacon, chewing on cheese? They must have been on crack!" Now, I will preface what is about to happen with the fact that I am notorious for mis-interpreting song lyrics. So, Papa said, "Yeah, right. That is not what they say. It was a really popular song." A friendly argument ensued and so I went to my iPod and played "Muskrat Love," by The Captain and Tenille. (Please, don't ask why I have The Captain and Tenille on my iPod. Maybe it is me that is on crack.) Sure enough, the lyrics belted out, "Nibbling on bacon, Chewin' on cheese..." Papa laughed so hard that he actually fell out of his chair. We laughed so hard at Papa falling out of his chair that Zazzy and I might have pee'd in our pants just a tiny bit. Now it has become tradition, every time we get out the card game, we also have to put "Muskrat Love" on the iPod.
And now, as I am relaxing with my coffee, writing my humble little blog, my Mommy is sweeping my floor and making plans with the Goombas. Papa is holding Peach and letting her pet his beard. Oh happy, happy day! I can tell this is going to be a GREAT weekend! Oooh, look! Beer and donuts for breakfast...I just LOVE when my parents are here!
Cheers!
~Daisy
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