It’s snowing.
It’s April 28th and it’s snowing.
It’s snowing huge flakes of snow.
This is not ok.
It appears that my letters to winter have done nothing but piss him off to an unprecedented level, that now apparently involves following me from state to state. For that Wisconsin, I am sorry.

The one silver lining to this is… well it is sort of funny. (ducking from the rotten tomatoes being thrown at her by readers)
These are some emails I got today after I emailed my friends: “Please look outside. Then give Mother Nature the finger.”
Shelly responded with “I’m already out of my chair, bent over with my pants down and my butt pressed against the window! Take that you little @#$%!”
and Richelle said “I called my mom and she says she prayed that I would have the worst winter ever so I would want to move to Texas, she didn’t think God would take her so seriously.”

Hang in there folks. It should stop snowing by June. OK maybe July. Then again this might be the first year ever that the 4th of July fireworks are snowed out.
“Mommy, can we go to the pool today?”
“Sure honey! Don’t forget your mittens and your new sled!”

Maybe then my office mate would finally believe in Global Warming. Yeah I’m not holding my breath either.

This past weekend, Ben and I traveled up to Minneapolis to see some of my college friends. My friends Jen and Clay have a son Jake who is exactly 2 months older than Ben. And he has SUCH cool stuff.
It was great fun, despite the rocky beginning. Translation: the Road-Trip-From-HELL. I won’t give you the play by play because trust me, there are parts you are better off not knowing. I will tell you it included, in no particular order:

• torrential downpours
• the child saying after just ONE hour of the 4 1/2 hour car ride “Are we there yet?” and when he was told him we had another 3 hours to go, I thought the guy was going to puke.
• massive traffic jams in the middle of nowhere that made the once 4 1/2 hour trip, close to 6 hours
• roads that we needed to take being closed
• a visit to a ghetto Walgreen’s
• and yet more traffic jams.

The next morning, good ole Minnesota welcomed us to her fair state with this wonder of nature:

Clearly Winter and Spring still haven’t figured out whose turn it is to control the remote.

Please keep in mind that when we left Madison it was 71 degrees. PMS much Spring? Therefore my child had no coat, was wearing shorts and I only brought these shoes.

So yeah. That was fun.

Since doing anything outside was out of the question, we made the GREAT decision to take the boys to The Mall of America. Ah, MOA. Such a place of serenity. Of calm. Of happy parents, quiet children and such reasonable prices. The Mall has this power that as soon as I stepped through those magical doors, the spirit of “Kmart Mom” came rushing over me. Suddenly I grew bad frizzy bleached hair, was wearing green eye shadow, smacking on my gum, carrying my coupons while wearing uncomfortable pumps and tights jeans. All the while screaming at my kid that if he didn’t “SHUT UP HE WAS GONNA BE HEARIN’ ABOUT IT IN THE PARKIN’ LOT REAL SOON!”

We did manage to get through the Nickelodeon Universe park without injury. The boys drove the bumper cars and later Ben and I went on the Log Chute. I don’t care how old that ride it, it still rocks!

Finally, when I thought I was the only one that was having sensory overload issues, Jen said through clenched teeth “If we don’t get the hell out of here soon I’m going to scream!”

Then there was Saturday night. I soon realized, you can take the girl out of the sorority but you can’t take the sorority out of the girl.

Fifteen years may have gone by since our hey days at Kappa Alpha Theta, but you wouldn’t have known it by looking at our moves on the dance floor that night. It was as if a time machine took us back to 1993 and we were lookin’ goooood. Although I blew my 21 year old cover when I muttered to Anne “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow…”

There is something about being around friends that have known you for such a long time to make you feel centered. Plus, those are the only group of people who call me solely by my last name and still ask if I’m a vegetarian.

We will be back up there soon but first a written legal contract needs to be drawn up between Jen, Clay and I that states they will NEVER again subject us to the horrors of The Mall and my liver needs to do some serious recovering.

Dear Future Daughter In Law or Little Becky as we like to call you,
(Oh I know you think that it’s really weird but Ben and I think it’s so cute!!!)

Hi! How’s it going with my kid? Good huh? Sorry about his really crooked teeth but when he was little it was either buy gas at $4 a gallon or orthodontia and well, I had to get to the mall and my pedicure appointments!

But he’s a great husband, isn’t he? Wanna know why? Because I shaped him up good!

*When he wanted to eat his granola bar while going to the bathroom, I said “ah, no.”

*When he wanted to get a tattoo of a panther playing a guitar with the words “ROCK ON!” on his bicep, did I rush him to the nearest tattoo parlor? Noooo! I said “Um, maybe wait until you are 20. You might change your mind about the design.”

*When he would just dropped his dirty underwear on the floor, I would make him pick it up and put it in the laundry room.

*When he would leave his dishes out, I would make him put them into the sink.

*When he put the ice cream in the sink instead of the freezer, well then I didn’t actually say anything because hey, life is hard and confusing.

*The one time that he didn’t hold the door open for me, I pitched such a fit, he did it EVERY TIME since then. With a smile.

*The guy actually likes to clean the toilet. So whatever he might tell you, don’t let him get away with not doing it.

Really. You are welcome. There is no need to thank me. I’ll just take 3 grandchildren. Preferably at least one girl. Oh and could you name her Anna after my grandmother? Thanks!
You know, I think me living with you guys is really working out well. Don’t you?

Much Love,
Ma

Oh and p.s. we are out of Diet Coke and Ben and Jerry’s S’mores ice cream. You know how I can’t go to sleep without that stuff. Oh and for some reason my TIVO isn’t recording Rock of Love Season 20. Can you fix it? Um soon?! That poor Brett Michaels still hasn’t found his love. It’s just so sad. Thanks lovey!

I watched it last night and to say I was effected would be putting it mildly. After I turned off all the lights in the house, planned my move to a “Off The Grind” community, wrote a stern letter to Exxon/Mobil and professed my new love for Leonardo DiCaprio, I texted a friend of mine and said “Oh my god this movie! I’m going to sell my car and plant 100 trees. Tomorrow!”

OK maybe selling my car is a little drastic but I’m definitely reinstating “No Drive Sundays”. This is something Ben and I came up with last summer where we didn’t use the car at all on Sundays. Winter put a wrinkle in that one but now that the weather is better, there is no excuse.

So please dear readers, I don’t ask you for much. Actually I have never asked you for anything! But I am now. Please. On Earth Day, go watch The 11th Hour and then go plant a tree. Or two. And then make someone else watch this movie. Mother Earth, and my future great great grandchildren thank you.

*I know this post is long overdue. But between chronicling my amazingly ugly days and destroying my son’s childhood fantasies, I haven’t had time.

Last night after a very fun time at the UW Varsity Band concert (Thank you again Katie for the extra tickets!) Ben and I got home very late. We were both exhausted. But apparently not tired enough for Ben to pull his loose tooth out.

Keep in mind this is tooth number 8. For teeth 1-4 we made a pretty big deal out of it. Lots of cheering, lots of examining the new hole in his head, and lots of “WOW! What will the Tooth Fairy bring you?!?!”

For number 8 it went like this:

“Mom, my tooth came out!”
“Cool.”
“Yeah, and it’s bleeding.”
“Yeah, that will happen.”
“We need to get a bag for the tooth fairy.”

Just the thought of doing the do the whole Tooth Fairy business was too much for this tired old mom. I was so not in the mood to have to wait for him to go to sleep, rummage around to find a dollar, stick it under his pillow, take the tooth, etc. And I thought to myself, “you know, this kid is almost eight…”

“Hey Ben? Do you REALLY believe in the tooth fairy?”
He smiles a HUGE GRIN.
“Yeah. I mean she does give me a dollar each time I lose a tooth.”
More smiling from the kid.
“Ben? Can I tell you something?”
Now a chuckle from both of us. “Sure!” he says.
“I’d like you to meet the Tooth Fairy!” and I stuck out my hand for a handshake and we both laugh.
He says “I sort of knew it. But where are all my teeth Mom?”
“My top dresser drawer.”

So he runs over, digs and starts to pull out little baggies of tiny teeth.

“WOW Mom! That’s sorta gross.”
“Tell me about it! So I guess the truth is now out.”
“How did you get the tooth out from under my pillow and the dollar in?”
“Well, I’m just that good. Oh and hey, don’t let this secret out to any of your friends. They might still believe.”
He thinks. Then smiles again and says “I won’t. So… where’s my buck?”

I told my mother this story today and she laughed and said “Pretty soon you are going to be too lazy to do stocking on Christmas and there goes Santa!”

Well the kid IS technically Jewish…

I got to work this morning and innocently went into the bathroom. Just to look in the mirror and realize there was a 50 year old homeless bag lady looking back at me. Which is SO weird because when I left the house this morning I could have sworn I was a GOOOOOD lookin’ 30 something hip mama.

What happened from the confides of my loving bedroom and my kind bathroom mirror to now? Are the lights really that bad in the bathroom at work? Or is it that now I’m awake (Thank you Mr. Coffee!) and can see the harsh reality that is me on this fine Friday morning.

When I got dressed this morning and let myself out of the house, was I sober? Was I sane? Was I of sound mind and body? I think not. Although I’m 99.5% sure I’m sober. How did I think that this baggy sweater, went with the t-shirt underneath? And where did these pants fit into the equation? How did I make sense of the necklace that has NOTHING to do with anything I’m wearing. and DO NOT get me started on my choice of socks and shoes. WTF! I’m so What Not To Wear’s wet dream today!

The sad thing is, Josh isn’t even here today so I truly feel like the Homeless Bag Lady who is not of sound mind and body as I sit in this office all alone talking to my inanimate object friends. “Mr. Coffee Maker? Do you think I’m pretty? How about YOU Mr. Fax Machine. Do these earring go with this necklace? What do you think of my shoes?”

What happened to me this morning? Usually I am fairly well put together. Maybe the earthquake in Southern Illinois DID effect me!

Well at least I know what I’m doing over lunch, now. REDO!

Spring is here and with it comes reality. All that winter has masked, Spring unveils.
The snow melts and all the sudden you find that mitten you lost in January.
On come the t-shirts and lo and behold there is all that fat above your elbows you conveniently covered with the winter sweaters and forgot about.
The car that you didn’t think sounded that bad, well the windows are now open and the sound coming from below could wake the dead.
Now that the windows are open you remember that you live right by a hospital and wow, those sirens are loud! Not to mention your neighbors. Were they always that loud and do they live OUTSIDE?!

Spring should be called what is really is. The season of Time To Deal With Your Shit. There is Summer and Fall and Winter and Dealing With Your Shit.

I love Spring. I do. But sometimes I realize I’m not ready for this level of truth and reality.
When did my toes and heels get that ugly?
Why won’t these crop pants fit me now?
Is my floor really that bad? In the bright spring sunlight it looks like I haven’t cleaned all winter.

And perhaps I haven’t. Such is the glory of winter. Yes I know. I do hate The Winter. BUT the one solace that winter has is that everything can easily be covered up. Even the most productive person can be truly lazy and it’s 100% acceptable. It’s even recommended at times.

Eh, we have no groceries. But I’m not going out. Did you see it’s raining ice? Better order a pizza!
I can’t possibly go to the gym! The weather man told me NOT TO LEAVE MY HOUSE! He’s almost a scientist. He knows what he’s talking about.
All this snow and cold makes me want to eat. Lots of warm fatty food. It’s OK. It’s winter. My turtleneck sweaters and sweat pants will cover it all.

But this behavior is finite. It ends. It ends when the birds start to chirp, the grass turns green, cute little flowers are poking their heads out of the ground. And then, everything is out in the open.

It’s like we are these half Homer Simpson, half bear creatures emerging from our winter hybernations, yawning while scratching our big bellies. We lumber out of the cave of winter, into the bright light of spring. We wait for our eyes to adjust to the sun as we take in all the wonders that come with the new season. Until spring, who has taken on the form of Cher from Moonstuck comes up to us and slaps us square in the face and yells, “SNAP OUT OF IT!”

You heard her! Get those pedicures! Get to the gym! Fix those loud cars! And tell those neighbors to SHUT. UP!

Get going! Summer will be here before we know it.

My little guy has some serious hair. You would have thought I mated with a horse, as his hair is almost the consistency of a mane. It is crazy thick. I could bet all the money I had that every time we get his hair cut, the stylist will say something to the effect of “wow, he has a lot of hair” Yep. He does. Thanks for pointing that out. Would you also like to point out that Brett Favre retired or that the sun is shining?

The thing is, Ben’s hair grows UP not DOWN. And it’s just so massive who knows what creatures might be living in there. Also I think it almost starts to distort his head. Makes it look like he has this HUGE mushroom head. And trust me, his head is big enough that he doesn’t need any help of the hair.

(he’s pointing at his hair in this picture, not the ghost like thing that showed up. CREEPY!)

He looks less than pleased. But trust me, I’m thrilled. I have my kid back.

Speaking of hair cuts, my mom and I are off to Chicago today to partake in my nephew Mendel’s 3 year old haircutting ceremony or Upshernish as it’s called. This is one of those times that I love Google because instead of me trying to explain it, you can read about it here!