Bitter sweet return

Our trip to the beach didn't go quite as I had planned. But we had a good time anyway, especially Wednesday night when Monkey's aunt and I went out dancing ... Thursday morning? Not such the great morning for La Folle. I'm getting too old for that crap. Lesson learned, moving on.

We didn't go to the beach as much as I would have liked or the Boardwalk for that matter. But we got some rest and Monkey had some real quality play time with his cousins. Overall, I'd say he did pretty well. Especially considering his cousins are a bit older than him but he proved that he could hang.

DH was ready to leave but I wasn't quite ready. However, given the status of Monkey's sun poisoning (it's not red anymore but still very bumpy), we decided it was best to leave a day early. Plus, it would give us extra time to relax at home and get things back to normal (i.e. the mountains of laundry to do and the unpacking).

We talked about next year's vacation and joked that maybe we'd tell everyone we were going away but really stay home. Then we discussed seriously what a good vacation would be for us now.

You see, the beach we went to is the one my parents took me to just about every summer when I was a kid. It's changed a lot and my perspective on it has changed as well. It's quite the party town now and while there are still a number of families and family-oriented places to go, the noise at night was almost unbearable. Plus, it didn't help that our condo was overlooking the main street of the beach town. I think this may have been the last time we go to that beach town which for me is a little disheartening.

DH's point was a good one though. Instead of focusing on a particular town or resort, we should focus on what we can do as a family, especially with Monkey. At his age, there wasn't much he could do other than sit on the beach or in his stroller while we walked the Boardwalk. He was too little for most of the rides and taking him to miniature golf was a really stupid idea. Not just because he got burned but also because he only wanted to run around and snatch up the golf balls everyone was trying to play with including those not in our party. So that really left the beach, the boardwalk, shopping and restaurants. Two of which we can do right here at home.

So next year, if we're still fortunate enough to be able to take a vacation, I'm really going to give this some thought. Perhaps until he's much older it's a better idea to just visit family and friends? Or perhaps the trips should involve more site seeing like zoos, aquariums and museums? At least I have some time to think it over.

Lil' Monkey doesn't like the beach

We've gone to the beach twice and he was starting to get used to it but he was very angry about the sand and very scared of the water. Guess my dream was full of it.

I didn't factor this fear and hate into the equation. Of course he would love the beach ... not so much. Of course he would like playing in the sand ... uh, yeah right. He loves bath water, of course, he'll love the ocean. Try again.

And then there's the blunder DH and I committed yesterday.

We were very careful to slather Monkey up for the beach trips. Put the borrowed rash guard on him and used the tent (this was more his idea because he hated the sand). Then we went to the mini golf. Forgot to put the sunscreen prior to leaving so we put it on AT the put-put.

Did you know it takes about 15 minutes for sunscreen to really take effect? Well, apparently Monkey was at the mini golf in the beating sun for 15 minutes too long ... or is it too early? Either way, he got sun poisoning. Little red bumps all over his back, even where his onesie covered.

We called the doctor today who recommended some Benadryl prior to bedtime which would relieve his still bumpy and red skin. He passed out and was definitely a little loopy taking his last bottle.

I feel like the most horrible mother on the face of the earth. Poor thing. So miserable. And even worse is the little voice in my head that keeps saying, "Damn, I was hoping to get some more color before leaving."

There's always next year I guess.

Cover Me

The other day I was listening to a playlist I have which has songs by different women. One particular song came on that I really enjoy and I was thinking about how much I like her version more than the original or other versions of the song. It was Drove all night sung by Cyndi Lauper. I believe Roy Orbison did the original and Celine Dion has done a cover of this song as well but it's Ms. Lauper's that I enjoy the most.

Then I was thinking about other covers which I like more than the original. Here are few:

• Ball of Confusion, preferred version by Love and Rockets
• Take a Chance on Me, preferred version by Erasure
• Hurt, preferred version by Johnny Cash
• Girl, You'll be a Woman Soon, preferred version by Urge Overkill

Then I was thinking of the covers I hate:

• Blue Monday, hated version by Orgy
• Pretty Woman, hated version by Van Halen

So over to you, which covers do you love or hate?

Random thoughts from a tired mama

Tired. So very, very tired. So tired that while driving to go pick up Monkey from daycare I wished my vehicle had a feature whereby I could close my eyes to "rest" at red lights and this mechanism would let me know when the light turned green. That would be cool, wouldn't it? Okay, maybe not. Probably dangerous. Moving on ...

Wrestling my child into his car seat everytime we go anywhere ... so very exhausting, frustrating ... worried the neighbors or random shoppers will think I'm abusing him since he screams bloody murder every single time for the past two days. Up until then, he would fight it randomly. Not anymore. Every. Single. Time. Total of three times today.

Monkey's teething again. This time it's the upper right molar. Got up at FIVE AM. Doesn't he know mommy's been busy every night working? Oh right ...

My simplify plan? Yeah ... well, I've shot myself in the foot there. Working at work. Check. Working from home? Check. "What?!" you say. "Didn't you say you didn't want to do this?" you say. Well, I sorta volunteered for a thing ... off the books. Supposedly getting an upgrade for some software I have on my laptop in exchange (might have gotten myself into a sticky situation there). Then there's the other project I begged to be on because it involves a high profile client. What was I thinking? Oh yeah, and of course I'm going on vacation soon so everyone wants to make sure they get their stuff before I leave.

I've had some brilliant post ideas in the past few days. Can I remember them? No. Why? Lack of sleep? Perhaps. Constantly forgetting to take my thyroid medicine? Perhaps. That's a vicious circle. Forget the pill. Less memory function. Forget another pill. Even less memory function. And really dry hands. Forget to put lotion on before bed. You get the picture.

Since I can't write even a coherent blog post I'm not going to attempt to work tonight even though I should. Waah. Waah. Waah. :P

Going to get some little chocolate donuts and go to bed. Breakfast of champions ... afterall it's Olympic season.

Riot Act

It's been a couple days since I've had a pissy post, so here we go. I've been read the proverbial Riot Act three times in the past two days. The one today though ... for some reason it really got my blood boiling. Maybe it all just built up. I dunno.

This morning I made an appointment for lil' Monkey to go see the doctor because he had a nasty fall this past weekend. Yesterday and this morning, he kept rubbing the side of his head so my paranoid brain is thinking, "Great, brain bleed." The appointment to the see the doctor was for 4:15 this afternoon. This turned out to be a good thing since I had to finish upgrading my client's system which I had been working on ALL weekend long.

Just before I was supposed to leave work, around 3:15, I launched ONE MORE THING (bad idea. bad, bad idea.) and of course, it broke several pages and I needed to fix it before leaving. So I ended up leaving at 3:40 and didn't get to the sitter's to pick Monkey up until 4:05. We were going to be late, there was no avoiding it.

Apology planned in my head, I went into the doctor's office and before I could even finish writing Monkey's name in the roster, the reception says, "Is this --monkey's name--?" Before I could say, "Yes," she interrupted, "Well, you're late. 10 minutes late."

"Yes, I realize this," I said.

"Well, we can't afford for patients to be late because it puts the doctors off schedule," was her response. First of all, it's 4:25, how many more patients are coming in at this point? It seemed to me her argument was flawed and was just arguing for the sake of arguing.

Normally, I would have backed down and agreed or uttered some other weak answer. But for whatever reason, today was not such a day.

"It's not like I MEANT to be late!" I snapped.

She backed down. But I was still fuming inside. I wanted to say, "Yes. As a matter of fact, I f*%king did it on purpose! We've been sitting in the parking lot just lollygagging around just to piss you off!"

Even as Monkey and I sat in the examination room, I was still thinking about it in my head. It really shouldn't have gotten to me so much but it did.

Monkey is fine although he gave the nurses and the doctor the riot act. He just was not a happy camper about the whole visit, even the weighing on the scale where he normally does well. So I guess we're even.

P.S. I should have added that we were told via phone the night the fall happened that we should just keep an eye on him. He was acting fine other than the rubbing and DH thought I should make an appointment just to ease our minds, especially mine.

Recycling Bin: Glimpse into our lives

As DH and I were putting out our recycling last night, I realized that the contents of it has changed drastically over the years. When we first moved into our home, we were young and did a lot of entertaining. We'd have a couple or two over for dinner at least every other week, if not every week. We'd drink wine or beer, cook nice meals and more importantly, DH and I were avid Mountain Dew drinkers. Back then, we'd have plenty of time to sleep off any kind of hangover or sugar/caffeine rush incurred from the night before. Our bin then contained a number of beer bottles, a wine bottle or two, a couple of cans from vegetables or other food products and LOTS of soda cans.

About a year after moving into our home, I decided that I was giving up the MD and most caffeine products. And succeeded, that is until my first trimester. I know you're not supposed to drink a lot of caffeine while pregnant but I started back up with a soda a day just so I could make it through a work day. During my first trimester, a lot things changed. Many of our friends were either pregnant as well or had children of their own just prior, therefore, the entertaining stopped. Even if they weren't going through those life changes, we probably wouldn't have invited many people over because as any mother knows, that first trimester is very tiring. I was in bed by 9:00 p.m., sometimes, 8:00 p.m. and dinners consisted of take-out, order-in or our now favorite Fend for Yourself. Fend for Yourself usually meant PB&J or soup for me. Therefore, our bin was filled with soda cans once more and soup cans as well and of course, no beer or wine bottles.

Only recently have DH and I finally given up soda again ... well, he has. We no longer buy any for the house but I will still have one with fast food. We still don't entertain. I'm still too exhausted at the end of each day to think of fixing a creative meal and we still do a lot of take-out, order-in and Fend for Yourself. Occasionally, we'll indulge in some beer or I'll have a glass of wine. But since I'm breastfeeding and we both need our wits about us in case lil' Monkey awakes at night, we don't indulge too heavily.

This morning when the recycling truck came they found a bin consisting of a taco dinner box, cereal boxes, juice bottles (juice has replaced soda -- they aren't for the Monkey), Vitamin Water bottles, fruit cups and two beer bottles. I wonder if the men on the truck examine the contents of the boxes they empty and put together stories in their head of what's happening in the household it belongs to?

Funny Quote: Michael Kors disses dress

"... looks like toilet paper in a windstorm!" -- Michael Kors, Project Runway (about a designer's dress, pictured to the right -- which IMO, really did look like toilet paper in a windstorm and I'm not sure why the designer isn't "out".)

P.S. I haven't done one of these in a while ... and I'm officially changing the title from "Funny Quote of the Week" to "Funny Quote". Why? Because apparently I can't commit to anything permanent on this blog. My sincere apologies although I have a feeling now that Project Runway is back on, I will have many more of these.