Happiness Is...

Now, I know I have said this before.  But, really, there was a time in my life when I really, really, really couldn't wait to move as far away from my parents as possible.  Boy, was I STUPID!  When Bowser and I were married, I did, in fact, move far, far away from the Zaz and the Pop.  And now I miss them every single day. 

Today, however, I happy to announce that I am HOME!!!!  Home where my Mommy and Daddy can take good care of me and Bowser and the Goombas.  Everyone is so happy!  When we arrived yesterday afternoon, after a very LONG car trip across a very BORING state, Zaz had the pool waiting for the Goombas and Papa had cold beer in the cooler waiting for Bowser and me.  Does life get any better? 

The Goombas played, and then promptly passed out, with grins on their faces at bedtime.  Bowser and I hung out on the party patio with the 'rents and shared laughs.  It just feels so good to be home. 

This morning, I didn't even hear the Goombas wake up.  Would you like to know why?  Because my dear, sweet, kind parents let them snuggle in their bed and they left the door to our room closed.  I slept til 9:15!  9:15!!!!  When was the last time that actually happened???  I'll give you a clue.  It was sometime pre-Goomba. 

Ok, I will admit.  It is not absolutely perfect here.  The heat is crazy and the humidity feels a little bit like a sauna.  Bowser wanted to wrap his head in a towel and wear a short bathrobe outside to illustrate the point.  But, I don't care.  I'll take the sweat, the heat, the damp air.  Because I am home with my Mommy and Daddy!!!

There are just so many, many reasons to love being at Zaza and Papa's house.  Here are just a few...

1--The beer flows like wine.  Literally.  Well, ok, not "literally."  But, for real, the cooler is always, always full.  It. Is. Awesome.

2--As Mario put it this morning, "There is always meat here, and every day it gets better and better!"  Yes, there is always meat here.  Good meat.  Not the cheap crap I buy because of our budget.  Yum. 

3--As I have said before...  the Zaz and the Pop spend time with the kiddos.  Which, in turn, means that Bowser and I get help.  Which means instead of us being outnumbered 3-2, we now outnumber them, 4-3.  Really, the advantage is much in our favor. 

4--For some reason, there is magic in Zaza's world.  My Goombas become polite, helpful, normal children.  It's some kind of phenomenon that I can't really figure out.  She gives them a skittle every time they do something helpful or nice.  If I did that at home, they would attack me, one of them would grab the jar of skittles while the other two tied me up, and all I would hear is sugary laughter coming from some hidden place in the house.  I do not understand how she does it.  Can I just live here forever?

I would love to tell you more, but Zaza just announced that there is more delicious meat to eat and more beer to be drankin'.  Is that a word?  Do I care?  No way, 'cause we are the Land of the Zaz and the Pop, where it is sunshine and rainbows and happiness.

Have a wonderful 4th of July! 

Cheers!
~Daisy

The Hangover: When Parents Party

Remember that wildly popular movie, The Hangover?  Hilarious.  Love that movie.  Now imagine that those guys were parents.  Well, I guess technically Mr. Hot Stuff's character (that would be Bradley Cooper) was a dad of one, but he was in Vegas, so it wasn't like he had to actually parent anyone in the movie.  I'm sure the entire 2 hours of debauchery would have been much more painful and most likely not nearly as funny.  But, it happens.  Sometimes parents decide they need a break and live it up like they are back in their college days.  Only, they don't get to sleep til noon and skip their one class of the day.  No.  Their children usually sense that Mommy or Daddy really need some rest, so they wake up at the crack of dawn using their outdoor voices.  Come on Moms and Dads.  You totally know what I'm talkin' about here.  

I was lucky enough this week to have two girl's nights out in a row.  This is a rare occasion and I was excited.  The first night was wine in the park.  Awesome.  The second night was a baseball game, which included beer and 2-for-1 margaritas.  Let's just say that two nights in a row of being out til midnight and having some beverages kinda did me in.  I was not doing well yesterday.  Which is funny because my good friend RB (yes, RB of the Way Too Deep Rudolf conversation) just so happened to pop up on my Facebook chat and wanted to talk Parenting Hangovers. 

Now, before you see our conversation, I want to point out that this is NOT an ordinary occurrence.  It's just that every once in a while, we just need to have one of those nights.  Also, we are not lushes.  We just like beer.  

 

RB: Hi.

 

Daisy: Hello.  Apparently no one gave my kids the memo about mommy's head pounding today. I am listening to them jump around on the couches and I don't even have the energy to care.

 

RB: woof - hurtin' today, mama?

 

Daisy: Yes. Two mom's nights out in a row. I ain't as young as I used to be. Depressing, huh?

RB:  Yes.  Amazing what we were capable of 15 years ago.

Daisy: I know, right?  How did we used to do this every single night?  Oh.  Right.  We didn't have kids.  Or real responsibilities.  So, when was your last parenting hangover day?  

 

RB: The most recent one was Father's Day - but one of the worst happened about a year ago.

 

Daisy: Let's hear it.

 

RB:  We were living with the in-laws while we were waiting for our house in the city to sell.  It was the wife, the kids, the dog and myself.  And my 25-year-old brother-in-law was living their, too.  He and I decide to go out and we end up at a bar where you drink extremely heavy beer out of a glass boot.  And it's not like you're sippin'.  The rule is that you drink from the boot then pass it to the next person.  Then they repeat and you continue until it's gone.

Daisy:  Wow.  Places like that really exist?

RB:  Oh yes.  So, there are five 25-26-year-olds and me.  And they are the Michael Phelps's of drinking from glass cowboy boots.  So, after 6-7 of those boots, things get a little out of control and my brother-in-law decides he is walking home.  In Omaha, in February, 127 blocks.

Daisy:  Sounds like he was making smart decisions that evening.  

RB:  I finally convince him to ride home in a cab with me.  On the way home we asked the driver to pull into taco bell.  Not only did he do that, but he turned off the meter while we were waiting in line!  I told him, "Junior, get yourself whatever you want."  So, he drops us off at home and we become CIA ninjas walking up the driveway, trying to be quiet so as not to wake up my in-laws or family.  It was 2:45 in the morning.  The SECOND we step onto the driveway, my father-in-law turns on teh porch light.  My brother-in-law tosses the Taco Bell bag into the bushes like it is a bag of weed for some unknown reason.  I try to play it straight with my father-in-law, but he knows.  Pretty sure my answer to "are you guys all right?" was "giraffe bathroom stapler turnstile."  

Daisy:  Busted!

RB:  I stumble into the bedroom and I am immediately reminded that my wife is leaving for work at 4:45 in the morning. Or, really, in just about 90 minutes.  My son, Bad News, bless his soul, woke up his daddy about 75 minutes later.  Then my daughter, Raven, comes in and asks, "Can we eat breakfast in bed with you?"  Ummm, YES! Turn on Dora!  Turn on Diego!  Take the keys and drive to Lego-Land.  Just leave Daddy alone.  So, the worst part is a few hours later.  My mother-in-law, who I love dearly, comes downstairs and gives me the most smug smile ever.  And asks at (approximately) 392 decibels, "HOW YA FEELIN' DAD?"  Kill me.  Hungover, single dad, and my mother-in-law is mocking me. 

Daisy:  Ouch.  My worst was when I had Mario.  He was about 4 years old.  I went out with a group of friends and there was much wine to be had.  Then cosmos.  Which I thought were shots, but that is beside the point.  I get home around 2:30 in the morning. Bowser gets up at 6 to go into work and of course Mario is up bright and early, too.  I stumbled downstairs, got a sippy full of milk for Mario and a giant bowl of dry cereal.  I turned on the tv and dozed off and on all day.  Lucky for me, Mario was a pretty mellow little guy and was just happy that I was letting him eat in my bed and watch tv.  I'm pretty sure I only left the bed to get food for Mario and to get sick.  I'm also pretty sure we were right there in the exact same place when Bowser got home from work that evening.

RB:  Wow.  There was also a time on Mother's Day, after a BBQ, that I had to take care of Raven.  Let's just say there was a lot of explosive poo involved.  And since she's the first baby, I still had "first time parents syndrome." OH MY GOD! THERE'S DIRT/POOP/SOME FOREIGN SUBSTANCE ON MY BABY.  This does not mix well with a hangover.  Of course, now I am experienced enough in parenting that she could be covered in bags of flaming poo and I wouldn't give it a second thought. 

Daisy:  I vaguely remember those first time parenting days.  And, no, they most certainly do not mix.  I think they should create some kind of Nanny website that parents can call when they have had a rough night.  You know, an emergency nanny that will take care of the kids and clean the house so you can sleep it off.  I'd pay good money for that.  

RB:  It's amazing what I am willing to concede when I am hungover.

Daisy:  Yeah.  My kids get to do pretty much whatever they want when mommy is "under the weather."

For instance, this morning I gave them popsicles for breakfast.  It just seemed easier that pouring them all bowls of cereal.  Now they are quiet and happy.  It's really win-win for all of us. 

RB:  I don't see a downside myself.  It's not like kids cereals are much better nutrtion-wise than popsicles anyway.  Memo to self:  buy a gross of popsicles for freezer.

Daisy:  ...sigh... And now my Goombas are asking me to feed them and stuff, so I guess I better go.  I don't think another round of popsicles is a great idea.  Tempting, yes, but probably not a good thing.  

RB:  You don't think Child Services will read this, do you?  

Daisy:  Let's hope not!

So, there you have it.  A peek into the lives of parents that sometimes forget they are parents and go a little wild.  Rest assured, as I said before, this is not a common occurrence.  Although, really, how bad are popsicles for breakfast every once in a while?  

Cheers!

~Daisy (and RB!)

Father's Day

Father:  [fah-ther]

1.  A male parent.

Again, gods of the word world, I must criticize your lack of definition.  As with the word Mother, you have sorely missed the mark on the word Father.  Allow me to throw my definition into the ring...

Father: [fah-ther]

1.  A man who gives up all of his spare time to entertain the small beings that he helped create.

2.  A male who, upon seeing his psychotic wife crying and frantically waving a pee stick in the air, comes down from a rooftop, gives her a hug and says he is excited for this next step in life. 


3.  A man who learns every character from every Mario game that Nintendo has ever invented, just so he can spend "quality time" with his son.

4.  A man who patiently spends every evening, under a heavy comforter, playing "cave" with his son, because it creates memories that they will both cherish forever.  
  
5.  A male, who loves his daughter so much, that he creates an account when she is born, so that he can put away enough money to give her a dream wedding when she meets her Prince Charming.


6.  A man who looks at the finances every month, wondering where the money is going to come from, but still works to give his children the world.  

7.   A male who loves steak, salad, and baked potatoes, but gives it up to eat chicken nuggets, french fries, and canned peaches with his kids.

8.  A man who gives up his Soloflex routine for "Big Birdie Birdie" and piggy back rides.

9.  A husband (or partner) that thinks the stretchmarks and curves his wife earned during pregnancy are the most beautiful marks on her body.

10.  A man who goes out with friends for a bachelor night, and comes home, kisses all his babies and tucks them in, and crawls into bed with his wife and says he wouldn't trade his life for all the bachelor nights in the world.  

Bowser, without you as my partner, I would never be able to do this parenting thing.  Your picture should be next to the definition of Father in the dictionary.  I love you.  Happy Father's day!

Love, 
Daisy