"V" is for...

So last night the kids were watching a few minutes of TV before bed. Apparently Nick at Night was airing that old episode of Home Improvement where Tim the Tool Man contemplates getting a snip-snip down there. As I turned off the TV Dalton (age 8) asked me, ever so innocently, "Mom, what's a vasectomy?"

"Well.

You see.

Um.

It's an operation a man gets."

This, of course, led to the dreaded, "But why?"

"Well.

You see.

Um.

So that he can't have babies.

Nowlet'sgettobed'causeitisreallylateandyouhavetogetupearlyforschool."

"Mooooommmm! Quit joking around! Men can't have babies! Why do they get the vasectomy operation thingy?"

"You know, I'm probably not explaining it very well. Go ask your Dad."

So Dalton trotted off to the dining room to ask his poor unsuspecting father about the meaning of vasectomy. I hung back just outside the dining room so that I could eavesdrop on the man-to-man discussion.

"Dad, what's a vasectomy?"

"It's an operation a man gets so that he can't have any more babies with his wife."

"Oh - really? That's what Mom said too. But I still don't get it."

"Go to bed."

"OK."

So I guess we are at the precipice of that next stage of parenting - explaining the birds and the bees. How fun.

I remember when my mother sat me down at age 10 with a book, full of illustrations, that explained where babies come from. I didn't get it. In fact, I think I was almost 20 before all the pieces came together, so to speak.

So, readers, I am openly asking (begging) for some advise here. When did you learn about babies? When did you tell your kids? And what did you tell them?

Sunshine On My Shoulders...

Apparently my children have trust issues.

When Sabrina (6) was diagnosed with allergies and we decided to go the allergy shot route, I told her not to worry, that the shots would not hurt. Much. After all, her brother had been getting the same shots for a year and he never even flinched. But I guess Sabrina has a much lower pain tolerance.

And when we were talking about all the cool things that we could do in the snow, I said that I could not wait to build a snow fort with them. And I even bought myself a pair of good gloves (they're pink and fluffy!). But guys, that snow is awfully cold. And somehow I never lasted outside long enough to build anything more than a wimpy snowball.

And on our recent excursion to New York City, I assured them that the city would be fun. No doubt they had a Willy Wonka type of fun in mind, but instead got a whole bunch of "My God, we are in a Prada store - DON"T TOUCH ANYTHING!!"

So yesterday when I told the kids that it was warm enough to go outside and play, they both kinda rolled their eyes and then went back to playing on Club Penguin. An hour later I insisted they get changed out of pjs -right this minute- and I promised a trip to the park.

"But it's cold outside (insert best six year old whine here)."

No it's not - it's warm! Trust me!

Again with the eye rolling.

"Just for a little bit, then we will go to Target and get a pretzel."

THAT finally got them moving.

And guess what? After about five minutes, both kids were actually sweating and had to take off the little jackets they insisted on wearing.

Sunshine is delicious!

We Are Family...

Wow.

You know, I was feeling a little anxiety about my sister visiting (couldn't tell, could ya?). Because somehow I didn't manage to turn into a super cool, super rich fashion model in time for her visit, and I thought that maybe I would come off as such a raging dork that I would never see my sister again. You know how fickle those college girls can be.

But of course, everything went great. Even better than great. But do you remember that movie Twins from the late 80's? It has Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito as twins separated at birth. Well, when I saw her at the baggage claim area at the airport, this is the movie that immediately came to mind.

Do you see what I mean? The girl is TALL and THIN and full of youthful beauty. And, well, let's just say that I am not. But over the course of her visit, we found that we have more in common than differences. We both do a weird little hand dance thing when we listen to music. We both love to read. We both eat our pizza with ranch dressing (lots of it!). We have an eerily similar smart-ass sense of humor. We both face the daily struggle of taming the curl in our hair (those straight locks you see in the picture above is the result of a really good relationship with my straightening iron). But most importantly, we love each other!


The week was full of long talks and lots of laughs. The first night Sam was here we went to a restaurant that I had been dying to try because of it's name (say it out loud and you will see what I mean).

We took a spur of the moment trip to New York City (because I am all about impressing her like that) and shopped and ate and just had a blast.

Don't we look like we are having fun?

Even though the trip ended with Sam missing her flight back home (our damn GPS took us to a fishing pier in Boston instead of the airport), it was a really great visit. I can't imagine my life without my baby sis being a huge part of it.

Yay us!

Sister Sister

Okey-dokey. I am totally freaking. out.

My 19 year old sister that I have not seen in ELEVEN years is coming to visit one day from today. Yep. Tomorrow I will pick her up from the airport and she will be here until Thursday. (Right about now you are probably asking "why haven't you seen your sister in eleven years?"...but you should know by now that I didn't exactly have a fairy tale life. I mean most fairy tales have the heroine facing seemingly insurmountable obstacles, wacky and sometimes malicious stepmothers, talking animals, and then finally, a prince charming that comes and saves the day and everyone lives happily ever after. Wait a minute. Aside from the talking animals, this IS my life in a nutshell. Crap on a cracker. Could I be living a Grimm's fairy tale and not even know it? Is Disney about to digitally remaster the my life? Something else to obsess about - that's just what I need!)

Anyway...

My sister Sam is coming to visit. She just turned 19. Did I mention that already? But guys, I am 3freakin7 years old! Practically old enough to be her mother for cryin' out loud!!! But I am SO EXCITED that I could pee on myself. No lie. I have missed my youngest sibling so so so so MUCH!!! And I hope we get to do all those sisterly things I've read about in books like paint each others nails and braid our hair and talk about boys and eat too much ice cream. I hope hope hope she likes me. I can't wait to see what types of things we do the same and which things we do completely different from each other. See, we've only really been in contact with each other for the last two years or so, and it has taken this long for me to get up the courage to turn my back on the family drama and put her on a plane to where I am. Crazy, huh?

But.

I don't know. I took a real long honest look in the mirror yesterday (an actual mirror, no symbolism or anything) and realized that I have aged. I am a real true grown up. With kids. And a husband. And toilets to scrub. And I started wondering, what if Sam finds that she doesn't really like me? She is a young college girl with her whole entire life spread out before her. What if she finds that even though my Myspace page is all tricked out and cool and hip, in reality, I am just a typical, cranky, middle-aged mom? What if she finds me boring, or ordinary, or just plain irrelevant?

Then what?