Betrayal PPO

Emily was four and super excited to be going to Kindergarten. She had attended preschool, but saw Kindergarten as "real" school and perhaps for the first time in her life, eagerly climbed into the car ahead of her brother and sister to go visit Dr. Jones for the back to school check up. And she knew there would be shots.

After the pokes and prods and shots, she was given a clean bill of health and Dr. Jones signed her form.

"The only thing left is the new mandatory lead test. Just take this order down to the lab and they'll draw a bit of blood and you should be all set!"

Didn't seem as if it would be a huge deal. Neither of the other two had to get this done, but it seemed straightforward enough. So, we gathered our things and headed down the stairs to the lab.

We were only in the waiting room a couple of minutes when Emily was called back. I remember being encouraged by this. Stupid, stupid Mom.

When we got back to the very tiny little room that I'm certain was orginally designed as a closet, Em got very nervous. She couldn't help but to fixate on all of the tubes and needles and gauzes. I could see the dread building. This was bad. Very bad.

I tried to be bright and encouraging, but soon was told that Dr. Jones' office had sent down an order for Isabella instead of Em, so we would have to wait until they sent down a new order. Great. They obviously did not work with small children very often. Give the kid more time to stare at the collection of blood tools. That's going to work out awesome.

Long story short, by the time the needle atually hit her arm, Emily was a mess. She wailed so loudly that I'm sure I could have rented her out for Middle Eastern funerals. When ALL THREE tubes of blood were drawn and she was sporting her pink camo bandage, the unit secretary was right there with a huge box of stickers and suckers and stuff. Em was sniffling but sorting through it, taking the opportunity to gaffle herself quite the little collection.

The secretary was pleased with her impact on Emily's mood, and said to her "see, that wasn't so bad, huh?"

Emily looked up from the box with a mixture of anger, disbelief and disdain.

"What?? That hurt like HELL!"

She was permitted to select several more stickers...

Quote of the Day

Isabella: "Mom, Declan uses faaaar too much inappropriate language."
"Yeah?"
"Oh, yes. He learned it from Dad."

Quote of the Day

Isabella: "Mom, Declan may look harmless, but really he can inflict a great deal of pain."
"Really? I had no idea he was so dangerous. Did he hurt you?"
"No, but the other day, he nearly broke Emily's spleen."

Quote of the Day

"Declan, how was school?"
"The usual."
"Yeah? Anything interesting?"
"Well, in speech today Mrs. P asked me a question I didn't know."
"What was that?"
"Columbus discovered what? I didn't know what to say because Columbus didn't discover America."
"Well, you're right about that. What did you say, then?"
"I said 'I don't know - pie?'"
"You said 'Pie'?"
"Yep. I like pie."
"So do I, son."

Ode to Joy

Whew! The holidays are busy around here. I know they are busy for everyone but I feel as if we are stretched more than most.

The Husband is a high school wrestling coach. Because he is a hard ass, they practice over winter break. A lot. In fact, he sees himself as extremely benevolent that they get Christmas day off. I work at a fancyish food store. Add that in with school programs and errands and all the other crap, and we don't have time to come up for air until the holiday is literally here.

When the kids were toddlers, this meant jamming them all into a car, shuttling back and forth between grandparents, trying to be "fair" about the time spent each place, jamming all the new, loud and plastic toys in between the kids and driving back again just in time to go back to work. I'm not going to lie. It sucked. I love my family, and it's nice to see them, but damn.

Why am I speaking of these horrible holidays in the past tense? We don't do them anymore. That's right! We seceded from family holidays. And, it's awesome.

Most people react with shock and awe, as if I just told them I put myself through college knocking off convenience stores or something. It was no big deal; very much a bloodless coup. We just stopped going.

The Husband and I were sitting up very late one night, staring at the mound of new toys and contemplating how the next few days would go since the kids had just taken a two-hour nap in the car when they should have been going to bed. I know it's stating the obvious considering the circumstances, but we were several beers in. We were fantasizing about how great it would be to not have to go through all of the rigamaroll and just have a family holiday.

"Why the fuck can't we? We're adults. If we don't want to go, we don't have to."
"You know, you're right! What's the worst that could happen? Everyone would be pissed and our holiday would suck?"
"Hahahahahahahahahahaha!"

We decided the reward outweighed the risk, and mutally agreed to try it the next year. When the holidays rolled around, we told our parents that we were too stretched to make the trip, and asked to make arrangements to get together sometime the next week. Mine graciously agreed. His freaked.

Sweatpant holidays were born.

Thanksgiving at our house starts with everybody sleeping in. Whenever I wake up, I start to cook. I also start to drink wine. We eat throughout the day, watch football and play games as a family. We go for a walk if it's nice and eat more if it isn't. Everyone plans the menu together, and everyone helps cook. This year we ate it picnic-style on a blanket in the middle of the living room. If you think that sounds amazing, it is.

We see my family when there's more time and we can really enjoy it, and we have started our own traditions, too.

Sweatpant holidays is one of the best decisions The Husband and I have made as a couple. It's a great lesson that sometimes you just have to say "Why the fuck not?" and do it. Especially if there's wine.