If anyone orders Merlot...Wha? Huh?

This all started in May when Alan's parents went on the Sideways
wine tour near L.A. So Alan's dad comes home as the Sideways expert. This is not the type of movie he would usually enjoy. The last movie I saw him excited about was Saving Private Ryan. If not for the predominace of wine in the movie, I am quite sure he would not even give this movie a second haughty sniff. So even though we got our copy of the movie from Netflix a month before, Tom insisted that we couldn't watch it until he came over and watched it with us. Then the elaborate scheme started. He decided that while we watched the movie we would taste the same wine that they were tasting in the movie (he had bought a lot of the wines on his tour.) And then he declared that Alan had to cook a nice dinner to complement the wines. So Alan and I finally decided to do the dinner on Father's Day evening. On Thursday while on the phone with his dad I heard Alan say, "So, we can have dinner and then watch the movie." Pause "Oh, we are watching the movie first? OK." To which I whispered to him, "No, not ok. We have to watch the movie after dinner so the kids will be in bed." Alan tried to explain this to his dad but they decided that would interrupt the "natural progression" of wine, food, etc.

I was not happy about this turn of events because I knew it would mean certain disaster. Dinner time is not only starts one of the busiest times of the day, it is also fussy time for Shepard. I knew I would not be able to enjoy the movie if I had to worry about kid issues. Though I thought I was just being logical, Alan said I was not being open-minded. Since I got painted with the bad guy brush, I tried to suck it up and go with the flow.

Summary of the evening...They arrived at 5:00. We didn't get the movie started until about 6 due to kid issues. Alan's mom was supposed to take care of the kids while we watched the movie, but she is just not familiar with the evening routine. So, I still had to make Shepard's dinner, get Sage a snack, start the bath, get PJs out, and nurse Shepard. While we are watching the movie Shepard is fussing in the background and Sage was running around poking us with his light saber and yelling, "I am the evil Sith Lord!!" We had to keep shuffling Sage off to another room since the movie was rated R and they kept dropping the F-bomb and having sex. We had to pause the movie every 5 or 10 minutes to take care of kids or so Alan's dad could get the next wine ready.

Then Tom kept talking throughout the movie---"Oh, we were at that winery. We stood right there." "Do you taste the hints of asparagus in this wine?" "We ate there! We sat at that table. They didn't have tables along that wall." "We stayed in that hotel!" "This next line is funny. He is saying if anyone orders Merlot, he is leaving." "She is getting ready to give a great speech about wine." "This is the funniest part of the movie coming up." "Remember she told him the hotel was to the right and see how she is turning to the left."---It went on and on. Alan finally spoke up and said, "Ok, thanks for the commentary, John Madden." But his dad didn't get it. We finally ate dinner at 9 (even though Alan had assured me that we would eat by no later than 7:30) and Sage was not in bed until 10. Then we had to watch the rest of the movie. So we started the movie at 6 and didn't finish it until 11!! I had let go of my anger by then--drinking 5 different kinds of wine in one evening helps. :)

I could see it in Alan's face that he knew I had been right. Trying to watch the movie first was a big mess. Of course in all of his manliness he couldn't come out and admit it and just apologize. But I think he knows deep down that Mommy knows best.

Got Milk?

I had lunch with my friend Karen. Her son Sammy is the same age as Sage (born in 2000.) We met at Burger King with the boys. We had not seen them in a while so Sage and Sammy were very excited to see each other and immediately ran to the play area. We sat and watched them play and chatted. Then Karen went off to the bathroom. While she was gone Sammy came back over near the table and he spit up a small amount on the floor. The lady at the next table brought it to my attention so I grabbed a baby wipe and went over to wipe his mouth. I told Sammy to sit down and rest and he says, "I'm fine." He then proceeds to vomit what I think was a gallon of milk all over the floor. I am standing there holding a baby wipe watching the horror with milk vomit splattered all over my cutest shoes. The people at the adjacent tables were scattering in all directions. Sage is standing there holding his mouth like he is going to lose it next. So I yelled, "Sage, back away, just get away!!" Karen is still in the bathroom. I am standing there stunned and cannot leave the kids to get Karen or to get the Burger King mop brigade. So one of the other moms offers to go get Karen. And Sammy says, "I feel better now!"

Karen says he does this every so often when he drinks too much milk and runs around. So the Burger King mop man comes over to clean it up and Karen tells me "Oh, go ahead and get your food." That is really the last thing I wanted to do at that moment. While we were eating Sammy started coughing and Sage said to him, "Sammy, don' t throw up again!"

Oh and don't worry, my shoes are fine. They cleaned up nicely.

Penis Envy?

Why is it that I have just as much fun with my 5 year old son's birthday presents as he does? Am I reliving my childhood or am I living my first childhood as a boy? Of course as a young girl I played with young girl toys. And at 34 I finally discover that Barbie does not compare with an electronic light saber to battle your neighborhood foes or building your own TIE fighter with Legos. I love the boy toys--I love them all!! Sometimes I have a nasty urge to rip the toys out of his precious little hands and scream "MINE!"

So was I deprived as a child? Is my current discontent due to playing with the wrong toys? No, I believe I get the best of both worlds--growing up doing girly things and now experiencing the magic of a little boys life.

So the other day while wearing huge The Thing hands, Sage punched me right in the groin. I yelled, "Ow, that hurt!" Sage replies, "Sorry, mommy, for hitting you in your penis." I said, "I don't have a penis." He laughed and said, "Oh, I forgot. Sorry for hitting you where your penis should be."

Episode IV

I have been staring at this blog for a week wondering how to start. So I decided to start in the middle or actually start in the present--the here and now.

My first baby boy, Sage, just turned 5 on Thursday. We had his kid party in the backyard yesterday. We had four of his friends over for a Sponge Bob party. The kids had lots of water fun in the backyard with a big blow up pool and a Slip and Slide. They had a ball. We also had a Sponge Bob piñata which would not die. We let each kid have a couple of whacks at it with the bat. Nothing happened. So we did round two and let them all have another turn. Still not even a tiny rip. At this point the kids became candy crazed. They proceeded to surround Sponge Bob and ripped him limb from limb. After all of his appendages were gone they tore open his square pants and the candy was released. It was a little scary. And one arm and one leg are still unaccounted for.


Sponge Bob dismembered