30-Boo-Hoo

I don't know what it is about 32, but it put me in a funk. I was short with my daughter, snippy toward my husband and avoiding everyone else. I haven't been blogging, because (I'll admit it) I have had nothing nice to say. I have been humorless and grouchy.

Thirty-two and pouty, that's me.

On my actual birthday I essentially instituted a phone strike. I didn't want to hear happy wishes or jokes about getting old. I didn't want to be gracious or chatty. I spent the morning at the vet with my cranky cat and her urinary tract infection. Woo hoo. I was practically on the verge of tears all day. POUT.

This is so unlike me that it's ridiculous. I LOVE birthdays. I love mine, yours, hers and his. LOVE them. I think a day that is all about "you" is awesome and important and well-deserved. Growing up, my mom made birthdays magical. We got awesome cakes (seriously, one year she made my brother a Darth Vadar cake, complete with black frosting), and parties and spoiled with presents. Put it this way: on at least one occasion my birthday party included having pony rides in the backyard.
I know, seriously?? Yep.

I wasn't feeling it this year. I don't think a pony would have even cheered me up. Boo Hoo, 32.

And then I went to lunch with an old friend. At one point in time I was her guardian and mentor. But over the past eight years we've evolved into friends or family, or a mix of the two.

When I was fresh out of school I volunteered with AmeriCorps at Girls Hope. There I became a parent-figure, guardian, mentor, rule enforcer and chauffeur to eight tween and teen girls. We lived, with three other staff, in a house just north of Chicago. At 21 years old I was attending parent-teacher conferences, driving a Suburban, making dinners and breakfasts for an entire house. I was checking chores and explaining how tampons worked. There were days when I wanted to run away from the program screaming, but I didn't, I stayed for two years. My life was entwined with the lives, the drama, the goals, the hardship of the girls.

When I did leave my heart broke. I was leaving behind my kids, my girls. What would they do with out me there to make sure their homework was done or that they had new clothes? What would they do without me when their boyfriends broke up with them or they struggled in English? Turns out they would look to a new house parent to deal with the daily drama and slowly allow me to become a friend.

I didn't stay in touch the way I thought I would. Some of the girls are my 'friends' on Facebook. Some I hear about through the grapevine. Two of them, however, call me on my birthday, send me cards at Christmas, invited me to their college graduation and on occasion refer to Addie as their little sister.

One of those lovely "girls " (they're 24 now, but still in my mind they're my "girls") happened to be in town for my birthday. We met up for lunch and hung out until she had to fly back to Chicago. We played Friends Trivia and laughed at Addie and talked about everyone else we had in common. We talked about her future job and school plans. I made fun of her for being such a city slicker, she accused me of becoming a country mama.

Without knowing that I was feeling grouchy and grinchy and pouty, she made me laugh, and that was one hell of a good birthday gift.

Sometime Mommy Deserves a Drink

The thing is, she stepped on the cat's paw, twice, and giggled about it.

She took her crayons out of their bin and drew on her easel instead of on her paper.

She spit a mouthful of milk down her front with a smile.

Everything I asked her to do, I had to repeat at least seven times.

She threw a tantrum when bubble time was over.

She kicked me in the chest with her plastic Tinkerbell heels.

She tried to feed the cat a veggie chip, and instead of picking it up when I asked her to, she stomped on it.

When it was time for a nap she played and cried and made a general nuisance of herself until I read her three long books to lull her to sleep.

She smeared ketchup all over the back of my pink t-shirt, and then got mad when I wiped her hands off.

When her Dad asked her to behave she all but mocked him.

At dinner she tried to Jimmy Superfly Snuka me in the booth.

On the way home from dinner she cried, screamed and spat.

When I said it was time for bed she yelled NOOOOOoooooo and stomped her feet.

Oh, AND, it was ONLY Tuesday.

And then, on the way upstairs, she nuzzled her dirty, tear streaked face into my neck and said "Baby, mama, PEASEEE. Baby."

And that was it. It was all forgiven.

Not today, but a perfect example of the mixture of Tinkerbell Heels, cat paws and At.ti.tude.

Addison has been a little snippy these last couple days. I think she is still recovering from our move, is cutting a couple new teeth and maybe is going through a growth spurt. Naps are no longer the garaunteed thing they once were nor is bed time.

Addie will now lay, sit or stand in her crib and complain quite relentlessly if she is not in the mood for sleep. That complaining ranges anywhere from moaning and babbling to shreiking and screaming. I also discovered yesterday that she is taking out her sleep frustrations on some of her best friends. I walked in her room to discover her finally sleep, but Baby Puppy, Bunny Foo Foo, pink Baby Doll and Giraffe had all been chucked out of the crib and were laying abandoned on her bedroom floor. Ouch.

She has also been a little picky about eating. In a way Andy and I find that to be a relief, as we were convinced we could put shards of glass and old batteries in her bowl and she'd chow down happily. Three times this week she has smacked the spoon (with a spoonful of food on it) out of my hand. She has refused to open her mouth or has shoved her fingers in it instead of her spoon. I don't know what is going on...perhaps she is just staring to form her own opinions.

I don't think I am prepared for her to have an opinion of her own.

And as always, when Addie is voicing her ideas and opinions Michelob feels the need to chime in. As much as she has always been my shadow, she now is becoming Addison's shadow. She often slinks out from under Addison's crib after nap time. She is usually laying in a sunbeam not far from where Addison plays. These days she joins us when it's lunch and dinner time, supervising quietly from the window sill.