Hausfrau's Vacation Update

Team Hausfrau has just returned from a journey to the promised land vacation in New Jersey. I took the girls with me by myself on Tuesday and drove to Central New Jersey. (NOTE: To all of you who are well aware of my trip with the girls, you may skip down to the next paragraph. I can just hear the collective sighs and the, "Jesus H. CHRIST, will someone tell her ENOUGH already?! Thank you.) The trip took 12 hours. Four of those hours consisted of a solid performance of screaming by Peaches, coupled with crying from Baby Girl because of said screaming. I thought I would die.

Some of you may be asking why I did it. I did it because my friend Amy did it with her kids when she came to visit me a few months ago. She left at 4 in the morning and her children slept happily in her car. They were well-behaved, ate, watched movies and I think they sang, too. I, too left at 4 in the morning. Unfortunately, my little buttercups didn't sleep. We were doing well until I hit Columbus, Ohio (it's only 90 minutes from home!) and headed due east into the blinding sun that came streaming into all of the windows of my vehicle. It quickly went downhill from there. Ultimately, I made only two stops. I went into towns with a Walmart near the highways(St. Clairsville, OH and Carlisle, PA) and let the children run around like freaks up and down the aisles for 30 minutes and then would feed them at the McDonald's inside the stores. That seemed to work well. What DIDN'T work well was my attempt to emulate Amy's "peeing in a diaper so you don't have to go to a public restroom with two wild children who like to touch stuff" thing. See, Amy has this great way of being able to take care of business without having to leave her car by using one of her son's diapers and a plastic container for easy disposal. My attempt did not work so well. I think it helps if you are a size two. I also don't think my windows are tinted enough. I couldn't help but think someone was going to drive by, see me sitting at the wheel and say, "Yep, she's peeing into a diaper." I believe that on my next big trip I will slap on a Depends and call it a day.

New Jersey was an absolute blast. We spent the first 5 days with our friends Amy and Michael and their adorable children (who travel well!). The kids wore themselves out by playing hard each and every day. The weather was gorgeous so we went to several parks and lots of picnics:














By 7:15 every night the kids were all in bed and we would fall into chairs outside and relax. And then we would fall into our beds in exhausted heaps.

Herr flew in on Friday afternoon. He had spent the week keeping our house clean for NO ONE to come and look at our house (It's for sale. On Realtor.com. Virtual tour and everything! Email me if you want to buy it.) He also didn't want to take any vacation days since he wants to be paid for them when his employers kicks him to the curb on June 30. Don't feel too sorry for Herr. Technically every single day at work is now a vacation since he doesn't actually work. He rolls in around 9:00 ish and spends a couple of hours searching for the end of the internet (his latest report is that he is close.) Then he goes and works out at the company gym, eats lunch, goes back to his desk for an hour to look at houses on Realtor.com that we may or may not be able to afford in the Easton, PA/Western NJ area. Lately, he has been home by 2:30 pm. No lie. Who WOULDN'T want to stay home and do that?! At any rate, we spent one more night with our friends eating, drinking, and pondering our childrens' futures. It was great.

On Saturday we said our goodbyes and headed to Merchantville, NJ, which is right next to Cherry Hill, which is just outside of Philadelphia. The entire reason we came out to New Jersey was for our friends who host an annual Horse Track party at Monmouth Race Track. Our friends Lisa and Albert rent a grove and have boatloads of family, friends, food and drink. Four families stay at Lisa and Albert's house that weekend. With kids, it totalled 17 people in their house. You have to realize that Lisa and Albert live a very quiet and unassuming life in a quiet and unassuming neighborhood. Then there is that one weekend a year when the neighbors look out their windows and see all of these people streaming out of their house around 10:30 Sunday morning to head to the track. I am sure it probably looks not unlike a clown car.

The event, as always, was a blast. The food was great. I distinctly remember some brownie cookies and bacon wrapped pretzel rods that were then dipped into something sweet. I don't believe there were any huge winners at the party this year. Last year, our friend Jenny won $1100 and one of Lisa's friends won $8K on the last race. While Herr and I are never huge winners, I was CLEARLY not playing my A-Game. We won nothing. We spent nearly the entire time chasing Peaches, who kept trying to sneak out of the grove with her stroller, no doubt to look for a newer, nicer family. As a result, I haphazardly placed my bets instead of studying the names of the horses and deciding which name I liked the most. The winner of the $8K was nice enough to host a little contest at the party. There was a jar of coins for all of us to guess the amount. The winner won an iPod Nano. I thought that was really nice, especially since Jenny took her winnings and went to Italy. She did call us from Florence while we were at the track, which was pretty cool.

The evenings were spent hanging out eating, drinking and playing poker. Baby Girl was old enough to really play with the big kids this year, which was so cool to watch. The kids had flashlights and went searching for bears they had seen in the yard. She just seemed so much older this weekend. Don't get me wrong--we still had temper tantrums over really stupid stuff, but she was in heaven.

I had been dreading the drive home, but it ended up being fine. All of the construction I had encountered on the PA Turnpike earlier in the week had been cleared away for holiday traffic which shaved an hour off of our trip.

Now, before you get all worked up about how I took this picture, relax. It was no different than someone driving and talking on a cell phone. Or driving and rooting around on the seat next to you to find the quarter you lost for the toll. Truth be told, I took a ton of photos and this was the best one.

So now we are back in Ohio, waiting around for someone to buy our house so that we can move back to NJ. I am also trying to plan my next trip taking place in a few weeks. I do believe I may fly.

And There Will be Dancing in the Streets

After 25 days, three trips to the doctor, one trip to the hospital, 225+ diapers with accompanying grocery bags, one tube of Butt Paste, four tubes of A&D Ointment, two bottles of Mylanta, three ruined outfits, one ruined pair of shoes, a gallon of bleach, and a case and a half of Costco baby wipes, Peaches no longer has diarrhea.

Our garbage man will be thrilled.

LaPorte, Indiana

My mother, who was the unofficial keeper of all family mementos, spent a couple of years sorting the vast amount of photos, letters, pieces of crystal, linens and knick-knacks after we convinced her to sell her house. My sister and I did what we could do to help her, by locating distant relatives and mailing things to them, hoping they would appreciate the gesture.

After we had exhausted all of our resources, there were still hundreds of photographs of my family. I happily took them, with grand plans to put them into some sort of order and perhaps self-publish a book for our family. I managed to frame a few, but reality quickly set in what with the birth of my second daughter and our knack of moving every damn year. The countless photos I have are boxed and in the basement, waiting for me to look at them. One picture is a HUGE framed portrait of my great-busia on her wedding day. I have never seen a woman look so pissed off on her wedding day. I guess it shouldn't be a surprise that it was found about 65 years later in the attic of her house wedged in the eaves. Apparently she stuck it there after he left her. The intricately carved wood frame is disinegrating and I fear the photo has adhered to the glass. I think I will have to call the professionals in for that one. Another day, another project I have yet to start.

Herr showed me a review of the book, LaPorte, Indiana in the Wall Street Journal last week.
Jason Bitner, one of the co-founders of one of my favorite websites and magazines, Found stopped by a diner in LaPorte, Indiana a couple of years ago. He became interested in some old photographs that were in the back of the diner for sale. He found out that it had once been a photography studio and there were thousands of photos in the back. Apparently, Frank Pease, the photographer, couldn't bear to get rid of the photos. After Frank died, the photos were forgotten, the building sold. Several years ago, the photos were found in the building. The back of the diner now has a room where the photos can be looked through and purchased. Jason spent several days looking through the 18,000 photographs and chose the ones he wanted for this book.

I have not been able to stop looking at these photos since I got my copy of the book. The black and white photos are of babies, older children, high school seniors and couples. There's a nurse in a very stately uniform. There are side by side photos of a little girl and an elderly woman who are both wearing the same horn-rimmed glasses. There are soldiers and a baton twirler. Some of the photos are silly. Some are sad. It is apparent that many of these people were clearly uncomfortable having their pictures taken. Some were naturals. One thing all of the photographs possess is sincerity.

My primary interest in buying this book is that LaPorte is my hometown. No one has ever heard of LaPorte. Not too many people go there unless they are passing through to go to Chicago, South Bend or Lake Michigan. It is a town that went from being a very prosperous place when I was a child, to a town that is struggling and dying in a lot of ways now. While I would never besmirch my hometown, I am always sad when I drive around and see how it has changed. When I look at the people in this book, I see people who were part of what is good about my hometown.

I keep looking at the photos and thinking that I recognize some of the people. One picture startled Herr and I because it looked exactly like my Uncle Linko. Maybe it is. Part of the allure of this book is that there are no names attached to the photos. So someone from anywhere else could look through this book and think they recognize a person in a photograph. I was most struck by the next to the last photo in the book. It is of two elderly men. One man is fixing the other man's tie. He is concentrating deeply, brow furrowed. The other man is gaze upward with an unreadable expression. If you look closer, one of the men is wearing a plaid blazer with a flannel work shirt and a black bow-tie. He also appears to have a really bad toupe. But all the fashion faux pas aside, he looks so dignified.

After getting this book, I am now feeling motivated to do something with all of the photos in the basement. My family has such an incredible history. Too bad we just put the house up for sale on Saturday. I guess I will wait until after the move back to the East Coast. Another day, another project.

My Daughter, The Girlie-Girl

This Morning...

"Mommy, can we live in a pink house when we move?"
"I don't think so, Sweetie."
"But, but, but, whyyyyyyyyy? I LOVE pink."
"I know you do, Baby Girl, I know."






Later, in the sand box...

"Arggghhh, Mommy, let's dig for buried treasure!"
"OK."

Digging, digging, digging.

"Mommy! I found sumpin!"
"What could it be?"
"Ohhhh, it's buried treasure Mommy!
"What's in the box?"
"Pretty dresses for everybody! Here's one for you, Mommy! Arghhhh!"

At the lunch table...

"Mommy, may I please have some graham crackers?"
"You may, just as soon as you finish your carrots."
Sigh "No thanks. They don't match my dress."

After lunch...

"Mommy, I want to be a long princess."
"What is a long princess?
"She's, she's, she's TALL!"


Still later...

"Wow Mommy, I looooove your pink fingernails."
"Thanks, Baby Girl. It's Play-Doh under my fingernails from earlier this morning."
"Oh. Hey Mommy? Can we play Play-Doh again?"

Fifteen Months!

Wow Peaches, it's hard to believe that you are a ripe ol' 15 months of age. You've really come a long way since your first birthday. You are now running and climbing, which is a source of constant worry since you have taken quite a few spills. You are also putting everything in your mouth that isn't bolted down. We really need to work on that.

It's been cool to realize over the past few weeks that you understand more words than, "NO PEACHES!" or "NO BITE, PEACHES!" or "NO TOUCH, PEACHES!" When I set you down and tell you to go get your sister, or your grandma or one of the dogs, you go staight to them. You don't really say "mama" or "dada" but you can say, "go go go" like nobody's business.

You are hearing me say, "You're lucky you're cute" quite frequently. It's true. It has been apparent for months that you are going to be trouble and that you will use your cuteness to get out of said trouble. But don't worry. I'm onto you. And about that bottle? It will be no more. No matter how cute it looks dangling from your teeth.

Mom

I was flattered when Kara from Cape Buffalo invited me to write about Motherhood in honor of Mother's Day. Then I looked at the list of people she asked to be a part of the project throughout the month, and I became quite intimidated. I am sure most of them write for a living ( but claim to have other vocations,) they are really that good. Go on, read them. I am sure there will be several posts that you won't be able to get through without Kleenex. I am sure a few will be quite funny. I don't think a single one will be boring--we're talking about Moms here!


It has only been since I have been married that my mother and I have accepted each other’s differences and become friendly. It hasn’t been easy—that’s for sure. My mother is the most stubborn and inflexible person I know, and any relative in my family will back me up (they are quiet about it though—they are all afraid of her.) She lies about her health and finances because she doesn’t want to “bother” us. She swears like a sailor. She drinks too much, smokes too much, and doesn’t eat right. There is only one way to skin a cat in my mother’s world, and it’s HER way. On the very best of days, our relationship can be really difficult. On the worst of days, she is a colossal pain in the ass and I thank God that she isn't my birth mother. And then I curse God for allowing my adoption into this family to have taken place. As a child, I always thought that when it came to me, my mother was mean, judgmental, stifling and regretful of adopting me. Over the years, I slowly learned the truth. My mother, herself, was stifled and afflicted with abuse as a child, leaving it very difficult for her to give and receive love gracefully. Her love, however, could be seen in the orchard, two gardens, several flowerbeds, and the 4 acres of well-clipped lawn at my childhood home. My mother’s horticultural endeavors were the one thing that remained constant in her life for so long.

I remember as a child hearing all kinds of stories of how Mom used to steal flowers from the neighbors and try to replant them in my Gramma’s yard. Gramma didn’t have time for such silliness since she worked three jobs to raise her four children without a husband. Mom didn’t realize that the roots of plants are necessary in order to transplant. Sixty years later, my mother knows EVERYTHING about flowers (and plants! and trees! and shrubs!) From the time I was old enough to know what a weed was until I moved out of the house at eighteen, the two words that ruined my life were “yard day!” That meant that my sister and I had to weed the ever-growing population of foliage in our yard. Did I mention there were 4 acres? My sister and I would cry, complain, and even accuse her of abuse. Her response was always, “Tough shit. Do what you’re told.” I would sob about how much my life sucked because I had to work so hard. I never bothered to notice that my mother was working much harder and longer than I ever did.

My mother dropped out of high school at 16. She married my father at 20 and lived a very comfortable life because my father was one of only three electricians to service all of the steel mills in Gary, Indiana. After three miscarriages, my parents found out that my mother had endometriosis and would never be able to bear children. First, my sister was adopted in 1967. I was adopted in 1969. They built a beautiful ranch home and started to reap the rewards of the middle class dream. The only mistake my father made was not checking a box and signing his name to part of the mortgage that would continue house payments if he became permanently disabled. He thought he would always be healthy.

When I was six years old, my father became one of the first quadruple bypass surgery patients in the country at the age of 41. He ended up being disabled for the rest of his life. After his open-heart surgery, the insurance company cancelled his plan and refused to pay for the then-experimental procedure. This left our family in a huge bind. Without a diploma or marketable skills my mother had no idea how to support a sick husband, two kids, and pay a mortgage. I remember a lot of crying when Dad was sleeping in their bedroom. Almost every day, my mom would spend hours outside. When it rained, she would go into the garage and tend to her little seedlings and saplings, and repot indoor plants. When a new family member was born, she’d plant a new fruit tree in the orchard and name it after the baby (My tree was a McIntosh Apple.)

After awhile, car after car pulled up into our driveway and people started buying what Mom was growing. The Chrysanthemums and Shasta Daisies kept food on the table. The apples, peaches, pears and cherries paid for my sister’s thrice-weekly trips to an allergist almost an hour away. My mother’s African Violets paid for the mortgage on the house, and the fresh and canned vegetables and fruit kept us well fed.

Over the years, my mother went to school to learn bookkeeping and worked for a friend. Even though my sister and I were long gone, she still would break her back working long hours at her job and then work outside until she couldn’t see. A few years after I got married, my father took a turn for the worse. He had a heart transplant during my last semester in college, but he was starting to have so many other problems. In between hospital stays, my mother would still continue to work in the yard. After my father died, my mother tried to take care of the house and the yard, but it was too overwhelming. She was having her own medical problems and was drinking too much. My sister and I begged her to sell the place after she had lung surgery. She was drowning in debt and the once-beautiful yard was in shambles.

Mom finally agreed to sell the house. I thought she would die from the sadness. She has since been living in an apartment complex for the elderly. She calls it, “the place where people go to die if they don’t go to a nursing home first.” Her apartment is tiny and filled with boxes of paperwork. She uses a hall closet to store food. The shelving in the closet broke a long time ago from the weight of the canned goods, so she now has jars and cans on the hallway floor. We have attempted to replace the shelving but she insists that a friend is “building shelves as we speak.” There are also plants. Everywhere. She desperately wants to leave, but there aren’t too many affordable options for her since she has no retirement nest egg. We also have concerns about her ability to care for herself due to the scary-strong pain killers she occasionally has to take because the wounds from her lung surgery have never healed. We have all but begged her to live with us, but she refuses. My mother fears that we would hate her if she lived with us. I am considering a different approach with our impending move. I am going to tell her I want to hire her to be my landscape architect. I truly feel she needs a project that will make her feel useful and proud. Her flowers gave her the power to cultivate beauty and keep her at peace with herself. I would love for her to have that again.

All Sixed Up

It's been awhile since I have done a meme, but Adventure Dad tagged me to discuss six things about me that are weird or strange. What, only six? I'd like to think that I am vanilla normal and that there is nothing odd about me. But I know that simply isn't true. I am sure I could think of quite a few things about myself that could be considered psychotic idiosyncratic. My friends who sometimes read my blog will already know most of these, and they are still friends with me anyway, so maybe they aren't so bad. Besides, I've had all kinds of time to write this week because I haven't left the house since Tuesday due to the Diarrhea epidemic in our house. Here goes:

1. I cannot poop in public. I.just.cannot. When I was living the life in Corporate America, I managed to train my body so that I didn't have to risk doing that nonsense at work. It was before work or after work. There were only a couple of times where I would sweat it because I started a new job with a new company, and for some reason, my body decided it had to change the routine. But by and large, it didn't happen at work.

Until I became pregnant. By that time, we had moved to New Jersey and my office was a broom closet in one of our stores. And it was across from the bathroom. It wasn't so bad until I would travel to the corporate offices in Pittsburgh. Then panic would set in. After awhile, I found the safest place to go was the bathroom in the first floor gym.

I am equally bad at hotels if I have roommates. I used to work for a company that was big on having corporate meetings in San Francisco about 4 times a year. They would match us up with another rep from somewhere else in the country to share a hotel room. It sucked. I finally got wise and told the travel agent I needed a smoking room to ensure that I would have my own room. It was such a relief when I joined another company a year later that actually had a policy that people could NOT share hotel rooms.

2. Speaking of hotel rooms, I have a routine whenever I come into my room for the first time. I immediately remove the comforter and put it in the closet. If I remember, I bring a pillowcase for the top pillow I will sleep on(and I usually leave it there.) I also bring Clorox Wipes and give the toilet and sink a rub down. Then I inspect the towels and bed for hair. If I see hair, I call the front desk for new linens. I will not walk barefoot in a hotel room, I wear flip flops in the shower and am fully clothed (with socks) when I sleep. Travelling extensively for two companies caused this behavior. My husband HATES it. I try to hide most of it from my friends when we stay in hotels, but removing the comforter is a bit hard to hide. One would think after reading this that the bathrooms in my house are meticulous. Not so much. I am thrilled if one of the four is cleaned in a week.

3. Whenever I board a plane, the first step I make on the plane has to be with my right foot. It just does. I have a feeling it is a control issue. I can control how I walk on the plane. What happens after that is up to others. My worst nightmare is that one day, the plane will be piloted by the biggest stoner from the La Porte High School class of 1987, a guy named Glen. The last I heard from him, his father was begging me to fly with him because he needed flying time. Had I not just been at a party with him the night before, watching him partakein a big ol spliff, I might have reconsidered.

4. I will play a song I love in my car over and over and over and over and over again. It was fine until Baby Girl started to recite lyrics in public. This habit annoys my husband as much as the hotel routine. I usually only do it when he's not in the car.

5. I am terrified of clowns. I hated Bozo and his friend Cooky but my mother would turn on the damn Bozo Show every damn day. Don't even get me started on clowns that walk around and mingle at parades. One came up to me to hug her when I was a kid at the LaPorte 4th of July Parade and I peed my pants after I hauled off and hit her. It was made quite clear to Herr that he will be responsible for taking the girls to the circus or attend future birthday parties that feature clowns. I will NOT do it. I do tolerate Krusty the Clown, though.

6. I have always had the dream that I will someday be a famous rock star. It doesn't matter that I don't read music, can't play an instrument and have never sung in public sober. I know I'm good. I'm not going to let the fact that I am a 37 year old mom in Ohio stop me. I choose to not watch American Idol. I could kick all of their asses. I will be discovered by an agent while I am singing in the shower at the gym. I will be immediately signed to a label and cut a hit record. I will hire all of my girlfriends to be in my entourage and we will have two tour busses--one for us and all of our clothes and beauty products and the other bus will be for all of our children, nannies and pets. No husbands allowed on the tour bus--too much estrogen. Herr will no longer have to toil away as a Scientist, trying to cure the world one drug at a time. Instead, I will buy him a building and he can live out his fantasy of brewing the perfect beer and pondering amusing names for said beer like, "Herr of the Dog" and "v1/v2 = (m2/m1)1/2."

Now it's your turn!!! KimmyK, June Cleaver, Erin Dances with Scorpions? Beuller? Beuller?

Ten Wipe Minimum

Peaches came down with some sort of stomach funk last Friday while we were out of town. Sometimes she gets diarrhea when she is teething so I didn't worry. She was in great spirits, eating well and drinking the way she should. I figured it would go away. By Sunday, she had a violent diaper rash and would literally run away screaming if she saw me coming toward her with diapers and wipes. Sunday evening and Monday evening she was running a low grade temperature, so I decided to take her in to see the pediatrician on Tuesday morning.

I'll be the first to admit that I am not a hysterical mother when it comes to calling the pediatrician. Maybe it's because I have two children now. Maybe I just hate to bother paying a $15 co-pay to be told what I already know--it's a stomach virus and you have to let it run it's course. But Holy Smelly Diapers, Batman! I have never in my life witnessed or smelled such raunchy diapers. And since I am not feeding her fish and rotten eggs, I figured it was time to have her seen.

Have I told you how much I like my pediatrician? After I spoke to the nurse and told her that the diarrhea had gone on for longer than I was comfortable, she squeezed us in right away. The doctor was wonderful as usual, but he confirmed my suspicions--it's a virus and we have to let it run it's course. He did take samples of it (poor guy, she was able to poop on command. I swear I saw his eyes watering.) They are supposed to let me know what they find out.

Yesterday, Peaches' good mood came to an end. I pretty much held her the whole day when she wasn't sleeping because she just wanted to bury her head in my neck and whimper. She refused all food and drink and started vomitting. I was supposed to go to a Mom's Club function yesterday but called one of the moms to cancel. Within an hour, two of the moms had come over with 4 different kinds of Pedialyte and a detailed printout from Children's Hospital on what to do when your small child has a stomach virus. One of the moms also brought over a bottle of Mylanta for the raging diaper rash. I must have looked at her like she was a crack whore trick-or-treating, because she hastily promised that she wasn't crazy and that it really works.

We spent the rest of the day giving Peaches the unflavored Pedialyte by the dropperful and applying Mylanta. This morning she woke up much improved. She is still blowing nastiness out of her butt, but that Mylanta really works. She ate and drank well today, so I thought we were out of the woods.

There's just one problem. Baby Girl now has diarrhea...

Worst. Mother. Ever.

It started a couple of months ago. It was subtle and not very obvious.
"Mmmmommy, may I please go play with Maddie?" Baby Girl would ask.

Then, it got a little more pronounced, but only when she was truly excited.
"I I I I I I I I I I I love that song!" Baby Girl would say when I would play a Wilco song in the car.

Over the past couple of weeks it has become more pronounced and this week, every sentence is starting with a very long stutter, especially questions.

"Can can can can can can can can can can may may may may may may may I please have some raisins?"

I feel horrible about this. Everyone is telling me that it is perfectly normal for kids to stutter and they outgrow it. My pediatrician told me not to worry about it. But if it's perfectly normal, why is it getting worse? And the worse it gets, the more annoyed I get. And then I feel like an absolute shithead for being annoyed that it took her almost an entire minute to tell me urgently that Peaches threw up. I already knew she threw up because she threw up on ME. But I waited there, puke dripping off of me and the baby because I thought Baby Girl had something really important to say. She did--it just took her awhile to tell me.

I am trying really hard to not guess what she is going to say and finish her speaking for her. I did that in the beginning and it was upsetting her. Sometimes I keep thinking that I am causing her to stutter because I am constantly correcting her speaking or making her say things over again using manners.

I nearly cried today when she said, " I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I--"

"WHAT, BABY GIRL?!?!?" I yelled. "WHAT are you trying to say????????"

"I I I I I I I I really love you Mommy."

Hausfrau's Week in Review

Things are back to normal at Hausfrau Haus. We decided to cancel the trip to Boston because Peaches has had a nasty poop virus since Friday and we didn't want to leave my MIL with the kids alone when one is sick. I am taking her to the doctor tomorrow. I am sure that she will be perfectly fine and will be producing perfect poops by then. But had we left, we know something bad would have happened and we would have felt horrible about it.

We had an awesome visit with our friends Jen and Joe and their kids and their dogs. Baby Girl is going through severe withdrawl by not having them around. The oldest daughter was the perfect age to give her the responsibility of babysitting while we were there. Baby Girl was so happy playing outside with them all day. It is apparent that we need to adopt some older children pronto so that they may entertain her all day long. I was impressed with the restraint I showed by NOT being pie-eyed every single night. I wasn't even hung over. Jen and I left the house sans children one afternoon and got pedicures while Herr pretended that he knew how to fix our plumbing problems.



I was right when I thought that my appearance at the wedding would guarantee a drama-free event for my cousin. The wedding was beautiful, my cousin and her bridesmaids were GORGEOUS and quite tan (she manages a tanning salon--free tans for everyone!) I got a fantastic upper body workout because I held Baby Girl for nearly the entire 60 minute ceremony. She weighs about 45 lbs. My uncle was there to walk my cousin down the aisle with her mother, which was really nice. My uncle's wife didn't attend the wedding, but her four sisters came and no one mentioned her. I didn't really ask around as to why. If she is really still mourning the loss of her father from 8 months ago, then she needs help, not snarkiness from me. I ended up not having to worry about my mother being all catty at the wedding because she didn't attend. I'll get to that later.

While the wedding was wonderful, the visit with my immediate family was pretty much what I expected. Annoying. There is no such thing as a stress-free or enjoyable visit with my family. It isn't possible. I fall for it every time. I drive home to Indiana and am always so excited to see my Mom and any other family member who may be in town at that particular time. I drive home a couple of days (or sometimes one day) later, completely annoyed and usually amazed by comments made or events that transpired. I am always grateful to have witnesses (ie. Herr) because I worry no one will ever believe me. Comments about my weight, my clothes, my hair and my first bout of acne in my life flew through the air throughout the two days.

Let me set the stage: My sister and her sons decided to stay with my mother from Monday until Sunday afternoon. That would be great if Mom didn't live in a one bedroom 450 sq. ft. apartment that is full of crap. It would also be great if my nephews were well behaved and repsectful. And it would be super great if my sister wasn't so loud and always yelling at her kids from another room. My mother called me a week before, telling me that she wanted my sister and kids to stay in a hotel and was willing to pay for it. I am pretty sure she wanted me to volunteer to tell her. I didn't take the bait. Then my mother got food poisoning from eating a hot dog that was probab ly a year old in her refrigerator and was laid up for over a week because she is a sickly woman. A cold can put her in the hospital because she has a shot immune system. And she smokes. And she drinks. So no reservations were made and my sister brought her sons and all of their crap to my Mom's. I called my mother during the week to ask how things were going. My mother sounded exhausted and annoyed. She informed me that she needed to clean house before I got there and had a huge list of things she needed to get done, but hadn't because she had been so sick.

"Can't Sister clean, Mom?"

Sigh. "She doesn't do anything except yell at the boys and they ignore her. I'll get it done while she is in Chicago for the day tomorrow. I will, however, need you to get my groceries when you get into town."

"No problem."

Friday morning I called my mother when I was an hour from town. I told her to make sure she had the grocery list ready so that I could get it done quickly for her.

"Um, I actually need you to do some cleaning."

When I got the apartment I spent nearly two hours scrubbing the mold out of the toilet and the layer of black soot off of everything in the apartment while my sister ate pizza, yelled at the boys to stop playing their Gameboys 27 times and told me how dirty the apartment was. She was also nice enough to inform me that I had missed a spot on the television. I kept my temper in check and finally left when I knew I would blow--I also had a raging headache. I refuse to have a fight with my sister when my mother and nephews are near her. I did tell her that I need to have a serious talk with her. She thought it was about Mom. I told her it was about her. She looked all confused. Why am I not surprised?

I am angry for two reasons. I am angry that my mother will not allow me to hire a cleaning lady to come into her home to clean. I am angry that my sister imposed for 7 days and couldn't pick herself off the couch to scrub a toilet or even make her bed while she was there. What makes me even more angry is that my sister told me a couple of months ago that I needed to come home more to help my mom because she has been coming home so much. Our friends who visited us this week were only at our house for three days, yet they left it cleaner than when they got there.

The only other annoying thing that happened this weekend dealt with my aunt. She decided that bringing up my mother's inability to care for herself was perfectly appropriate to discuss in front of the rest of the realtives during dinner at the wedding reception. She kept sprinkling comments into conversation that we need to move her with us wherever we go. I ignored her as long as I could, but then she mentioned that SHE doesn't want my mother to move near her because SHE doesn't want the responsibility. I finally said that we cannot force my mother to go anywhere and that she may lives with us if she chooses, but she will probably never leave her apartment. And then we left the reception.

Did I mention that Herr and I went to the reception without the girls? That was fun. The girls stayed with friends of ours. Their two kids kept Baby Girl amused the entire weekend. The older daughter even stayed home on Friday night when she could have gone to a middle school dance--on her own accord. They are really good kids. I just wish Peaches wouldn't have been so miserable the whole time. She pretty much cried the 4 hours we were gone. Lorrie and Scott denied it, but their daughter came clean. We felt so bad. The upside to her misery was that she slept well at the hotel.

The drive home was uneventful. We stopped for lunch in a very quaint town called Berne, Indiana. It was settled by Swiss Mennonites in the 1850's, I think. Most of the buildings in town have exteriors that look like Swiss Chalets. There are also tons of Mennonites. They even have special parking for their horses at the McDonald's:










I guess the only thing left to mention about is that Herr has accepted a position to return to his former employer in New Jersey. It is a great opportunity (a promotion) and I am excited for him. We will probably look to buy a home in the Easton/Allentown, PA area. Should be a hectic summer.

Busy,Busy

Things here in the ol'Hausfrau Haus are quiet at the moment. The kids are in their rooms napping and I have been cleaning like a madwoman. They are still tired from our trip to Bloomington this past weekend. We dropped off the girls with Gramma and we met up with our friends Rob and Laura and were the IU alumni we used to make fun of when we were 22 partied it up. To be more precise, we drank a lot and also ate our way through Bloomington. I don't know why the girls are more tired than we are--they only went to Wendy's.

After a quick Easter lunch at Gramma's house we headed back home yesterday. Herr left the house at 4:30 this morning to get a flight to Newark to see his old boss. Fortunately, he will be home tonight, which is a good thing as our friends Jen and Joe and their kids are due to arrive this evening. We try to see Jen and Joe once a year, if not more. It's challenging as they live in Maine and we've been living in Ohio, but they are being nice enough to come see us before we move. At least we will be closer to them when we move. However, I am not sure that we could visit them a lot, as Corey and I turn into complete idiots when we are with them and drink ourselves into shameful stupors. Who could forget our "Goodbye New Jersey" weekend last April? What made that weekend all the more painful was that somewhere between drinks 12 and 17, I forgot that I had a 2 month old baby to care for. I have my hopes that Jen and Joe's oldest kids, Harry and Anna, will be able to prepare breakfast for the five younger children tomorrow morning. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

This weekend we will be going home to attend my cousin's wedding. While I might be able to recognize her if I saw her on the street, we are not close. I figured that the last time I saw most of my family, it was at my Dad's funeral. I missed all of the family drama at my Grandmother's funeral between my mother, my aunt and my uncle. I am tired of hearing about family fistfights events second-hand, so it is high time we made an appearance. It should be interesting as there are doubts as to whether the father of the bride (the aforementioned uncle) will be attending. According to my mother, his wife (my cousin's stepmother) is too busy mourning the death of her father from eight months ago to even THINK about attending the wedding. It just wouldn't be appropriate, you know? The reason he may not attend is that he hasn't spoken to my cousin in a long time. And that's sad--she's a nice girl. Truth be told, I am coming to keep an eye on my mother, to make sure she doesn't decide to have one of her Joan Collins moments and reduce someone to tears from some imagine infraction. And while the weekend recap I will write next weekend will certainly write itself if the wedding is action-packed, a big part of me hopes it is uneventful and beautiful for Tara's sake.



And as if that won't be enough stress, we will have to drive back to Cincinnati on Sunday morning so that we can pack and fly to Boston that night. One of the company's Herr received an offer from is bringing us out to "show us around" and set us up with a Relocation Specialist before he decides if he will accept. We used to do this stuff all the time when I worked for "Large Corporate Sporting Goods Retailer based in Pittsburgh." Pittsburgh was a tough sell for executives, so we would fly their families out and do it up so that they would fall in love and move there. I'm just going so that I can eat some Legal Seafood. The rest of the time I will be getting poked in the side by my husband because he will have caught me rolling my eyes after the umpteenth time of hearing, "This is a great neighborhood with fantastic schools. I think we could DEFINITELY set you up with a cute little fixer-upper in the mid-$400's!" Weeeeee!

A Little Bit of This, A Little Bit of That

I am counting down the hours until Herr comes back from Cambridge (10.5). Even though he has been the one with the enormous pressure to perform well in interviews so that he may be employed and provide for a family, I am selfish and am tired of him not being here. Sue me. I'm a baby. After he comes home tonight, he flies to New Jersey for the day on Monday to speak to his old employer as they want him back. After that, all interviews will be over. He got a head's up that he is getting an offer from a pharmaceutical company in Cambridge on Friday. While I am thrilled that he is getting offers, I am scared to live in a place where a 70's bi-level fixer upper that is 1800 sq. feet is a mere $450,000. And that is 45 minutes away from Boston. Sometimes I wish we never would have moved here. It took no time at all to get used to the midwestern suburban life with a home that would take me years to fill up with crap. It will be tougher to leave than I thought.

The girls and I went to our first Passover Seder last evening at my friend Leeann's house. It was really nice. The Haggadah was really interesting and long but I can't complain. The Jews were stuck in the desert for 40 years--what's a couple of hours before dinner? Leeann and her husband decided to mix it up a little by doing the Haggadah with puppets. I made my theatrical debut as Jochebed, Moses' Mother. The text was designed for school aged children and the songs lyrics were amusing and put to music like "Clementine" and "He'll Be Coming Around the Mountain." I was certain, however, that I ruined their seder because it was WAY past the girls' dinner time and they were FREAKS. I was the only solo parent with two small kids there, so there were a few looks of pity (and probably annoyance as well.) The food was AWESOME and I am anxiously awaiting Leeann's recipe for her brisket. I overheard her say it had barbeque sauce and Skyline Chili seasoning in it. I despise barbeque sauce, but this stuff kicked ass!

I have recently discovered that Baby Girl has several invisible friends. Most of them are real friends of hers who are just not at our house at the moment. She does have two friends who truly don't exist named "Daba" and "Bala." Initially, I was freaked out by her discussions and arguments that took place, but now they amuse me. The problem is that about the same time these "friends" started showing up, so did the lying. Baby Girl is now lying all the time. For example, I asked her yesterday to go up to her bedroom and put some socks on so that we could go to the store. Five minutes later, she was sitting on the steps barefoot.

"I asked you to put on socks. Please put some on."

"I can't."

"Yes you can." I said. "They are in the basket on your dresser. They are in the same place they were yesterday and the day before that."

"But Mommy, they aren't there," she whined.

"Well then find them," I said with gritted teeth.

"But Mommy, they're on the roof."

Weekend Recap--Akron Edition

Fun fun fun (Quiet drive to Akron in car) fun fun fun (Erin, Lorna, Jenny, Annie, Angel) fun fun fun fun(drinks) fun fun fun fun(DAVID SEDARIS) fun fun fun fun(Laughing at David Sedaris so hard that my jaw hurt) fun fun fun fun fun(presents) fun fun fun fun fun(birthday cake) fun fun fun fun fun (fudge)fun fun fun fun fun fun (playing "Name That Tune" with Erin on Kazoo) fun fun fun fun fun (trying to find a bar in downtown Akron) fun fun fun fun fun fun fun (the distinctive clatter of a butter knife falling in the middle of the street) fun fun fun fun fun fun (outdoing each other with stories of small children who swear) fun fun fun fun.


Sigh.
UPDATE: For an actual well-written account of the weekend, as opposed to my lazy-assed post, read Erin's blog . It explains the whole butter knife thing.

Herr's Employment Update

Herr's interviews are going at a good clip. By April 17, he will have had nine interviews in all parts of the country--mostly the East Coast. He leaves this afternoon for Cambridge, MA and will be home tomorrow night. Then he will fly back to Cambridge next week and spend almost the whole week there as he will have had four interviews with three companies. He'll even get to spend Wednesday sightseeing because of gaps in the interviews. Lucky bastard.

Actually, he's not a lucky bastard at all. I couldn't interview the way he does. As a Scientist he first does a one hour "talk" to discuss research he has done. There is a question and answer session and then he does one-on-one interviews with people for the rest of the day. The day is typically a 10-hour one. I can't imagine having to be "on" for 10 hours straight. Especially if some Jackass decides to try to stump him with science crap during his question/answer part of his talk. What makes it even tougher is that he has dinner with the people the night before; sort of a "getting to know you" sort of thing.

At any rate, he received an offer from one company already, but it is doubtful he will take it. The money was OK, but their relocation sucks and we would lose a lot of money. He is also annoyed that they told him in the interview that when they extend offers, they demand an answer in a week. He plainly told them that they should hold off on any offers until April 17, but this is the same company with the "Let's Stump The Scientist" Jackass, so there you go.

He is very excited about the company he interviewed with in Wilmington, DE this week. He is trying not to think about it because he doesn't want to be disappointed if he doesn't get an offer. They told him that they have a couple more interviews this week and should have an answer next week. His former employer is also very interested in having him come back, which is nice, so we shall see how it all pans out.

Weekend Recap

I am one tired Hausfrau, yo. The strong storms that whipped through the Midwest last night put my 3 year old into a frenzy, so there wasn't much sleep to be had. We live on a hill in our development and her bedroom faces the street. For some reason, the wind doesn't just blow against her windows, it SCREAMS and shrieks like a haunted house. I let her come to bed with me since Herr left yesterday for Wilmington, DE for his umpteenth interview. For only being 40 lbs, she is a massive bedhog who pushes and kicks. By 5AM we were both up and I was letting her watch television, just so I could TRY to make up for the time change. I think the only thing that will fix my tiredness is to go to bed after the 6 O'Clock News.

Sleeplessness aside, I had a fantastic weekend. Herr got back from Atlanta late Friday night so that he could wait on me hand and foot on Saturday we could spend time together on my birthday. Baby Girl started my morning off right by staring at me while I slept and singing a stunning rendition of "Happy Birthday." Then she promptly jumped on my stomach and asked me if I was getting a party, cake and candles. When I told her no, she got very upset. A 3 year old just doesn't understand that grownups do not need all that stuff. She started to cry and said that we needed to make a birthday cake, so I agreed that she could help me make one. She did a great job helping me and we let her frost the cake. Unfortunately, Bosco our dog found the cake on the kitchen island and destroyed most of it. It's for the best anyway as the last thing I need is cake.

A couple of things made my birthday super nice. First of all, Serendipity was on TBS during the girls' naptime. I try to watch any movie that my future second husband is in. That one, in particular gets me every single time. Secondly, we went to the Montgomery Inn for dinner. Jesus H. Christ it was good. The Montgomery Inn is a landmark in Cincinnati. We figured that we would really suck as individuals if we left this town without going there. We were not disappointed. I was so full that I could not eat my fabulous Black Raspberry Chip Ice Cream from Graeters that is featured on the menu. However, the best part of my birthday was this:

I got the first season of V.I.P. For any of you who know me, you KNOW how much I love this show. It has everything--a very funny Pamela Anderson (I choose to believe she is funny, men choose to believe she is hot--whatever), it has the hot Asian guy from 21 Jump Street, it has drama, it has humor, it has a certain campy appeal that I just adore. I have many happy memories of lazing about on a Saturday afternoon watching this show. I even got Herr addicted to it. Now, listen up people--they are not going to release the other seasons unless the sales from the first season are good. So get those charge cards ready--Amazon has it for a good price--help a Hausfrau OUT!


Quite possibly the real best part of my birthday will be taking place this weekend. My girlfriends and I are meeting up in AKRON, OHIO because that's what all the cool 30-Somethings are doing these days--screw the Caribbean! Actually, we are spending an evening with my future sixth husband, David Sedaris (He's behind Herr, John Cusack, Scott Baio, Michael Vartan and Gabriel Byrne.) It doesn't matter that he is gay and living in Paris with his partner. He would be the husband who would make me pee my pants from laughing every single day. And since I will probably be wearing Depends by the time I have a sixth husband, it won't matter! YAY me!

Queen for a Week!

Queen Hausfrau here, lounging poolside, sipping appletinis and eating bonbons. Well, not really, but pretty darn close in my world. You see, my husband is out of town interviewing (this week it is Groton, CT and then Atlanta.) And while I miss him horribly while he is gone, I tend to get a lot more work done. In addition, I drove to Bloomington, IN this morning and dropped Baby Girl off for a couple of days of fun with Gramma. They kicked the morning off by seeing Dora Live at the IU Auditorium. And I didn't have to go with them--SUUUWEEET!

This is Baby Girl looking all Dora-rific in her Dora dress and a Dora jacket that Gramma made.









For the first time in a long time, I had the chance to do some shopping at a mall with just one child. I went to the Prescriptives makeup counter and Peaches sweetly and patiently watched as the makeup lady worked her magic. I had a wonderful and quiet ride home as Peaches slept in the back.

When I came home, I noticed a box on the porch. It was from my friend Laura. I opened it up and almost started crying. It was a huge gift box of Kiehl's products! I am a Kiehl's junkie in a town that apparently doesn't sell any. I stock up when I am in a town that has it, or order it online but I was out of a particular face cream. When I went on the Kiehl's website a couple of weeks ago, I didn't see it and it said something about it being discontinued. In a panic, I called Laura because she works for a fabulous upscale retailer that sells Kiehl's in their stores. I told her about my dilemna and asked if she could scare some up since her company only sells it in stores--not on their website. And then I promptly forgot about it.

Well, she got me a huge jar of the cream, a lip balm, an eye cream, a pineapple face scrub (how did she KNOW I needed it for the stress acne I am experiencing for the first time in my life?) and a huge tube of hand salve (how could she know that the knuckles on my right hand are cracked and bleeding from my days toiling as a Hausfrau?!) Then I felt REALLY bad, thinking how bad it must look for me to be calling her about a particular product when my birthday is right around the corner! I called her to thank her and told her I felt bad and hoped she didn't think I had been dropping her hints. She said that I hadn't and that she had been thinking I needed some pampering. God love her. But now, I am feeling like even MORE of a jackass because I told one of my girlfriends about scoring the cream and she informed me that I was high for thinking it was discontinued because she just ordered it on the Kiehl's website without a problem. I am going to have to investigate that a little further...

So now, I've got an almost empty house (Peaches is in bed sleeping), I've got products, a bathtub I haven't used in months, the latest US Weekly (the one with Britney and KFed on the cover,) beer (cause I'm classy that way,) and ice cream in the freezer. There is a new episode of Lost on tonight, too! Pinch me, I must be dreaming!

But my good times will not be ending tonight--Peaches and I are going shopping tomorrow, I am getting a mani-pedi on Saturday and we have a sitter Saturday Night. I haven't been this girlie in awhile. Baby Girl and Herr Hausfrau may not recognize me when they come back on Friday.

That Karma--She Is a Bitch

Is it so wrong to not want to go to a friend's house for a Sunday lunchtime playdate? Our husbands are out playing golf today and we decided to get together so that all the girls could play together late morning. Peaches woke up this morning really fussy and feverish. I knew she was cutting a tooth, but I layed it on a bit thick when I called my friend to bag the playdate. I was sort of excited to have the morning off--I painted Peaches' bedroom yesterday so it would look better when the house goes up for sale. I wanted to spend the morning doing touch-ups and putting things back. I also wanted to run to the store and get a curtain rod for her room and some sheers for Baby Girl's room.

In the 67 minutes we were away from home the following happened: I got a speeding ticket for going 61 mph in a 40mph zone ( a stretch of road that is 55 mph with the exception of a small stretch of road AFTER a steep hill--who knew?). We finally got to the store, at which point Baby Girl decided she needed to go to the bathroom. No problem, right? WRONG! Baby Girl can spot an automatic flushing toilet a mile away and WILL NOT go on one. Even if I cover the sensor part with toilet paper. Do you know how hard it is to hold toilet paper over a sensor thingie AND hold your daughter's two hands so that she won't touch the toilet? After ten minutes of negotiating the toilet, Baby Girl decided she didn't really need to go anyway. Fair enough. No sooner did we get to the back of the store when she said,
"Mommy, I really need to go to the potty."
"Honey, are you actually going to go?"
"Yes, Mommy. I will be brave."

Fine, we went BACK to the front of the store (did I mention it's a big store?) and into the bathroom. I carefully laid the toilet paper on the seat, pulled down her pants and set her down. And then it happened. The toilet flushed, even though I covered up the sensor thingie. After much screaming and crying, she said she would be brave and she peed. YAY! Trauma over. We finished up our business and went BACK to the back of the store. As I am picking out some cute shoes for Peaches (What--I'll get to the curtain rods in a minute--they are right on the way!), Baby Girl said,
"Mommy, I really need to go to the potty again. I really,really do."
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME? We JUST WENT! Do you really need to go?"
"Yes Mommy."

I put the merchandise on the shelf and headed back to the front of the store. Baby Girl was very excited to be "brave" again and happily went potty, washed her hands and was done.

Great. Back to the shoes. I found some cute blue sandals for Peaches for a wedding in April and found a cute dress for Baby Girl. On to the curtain rods. No problem. I got a set of cheap curtain rods and got ready to get in line at the front. Of course it's a long wait. It only makes sense that Baby Girl would start singing one of her favorite tunes. That's what she does when we are in line at a store. Typically it is something from Laurie Berkner or the Dora theme song. Not today. It seems that she is memorizing song lyrics from the Wilco cd that is in my car. First she sang the verse from "Jesus, etc"

last cigarettes
and all you can get
turning your orbit around

There is something REALLY BAD about hearing the word "Cigarette" come out of the mouth of a happily singing 3 year old. The woman in front of me could not whip around and glare at me fast enough. Oh, but it got better. Then Baby Girl sang the chorus from "Heavy Metal Drummer,"

I miss the innocence I've known
Playing KISS covers, beautiful and stoned

Oh yeah, she SCREAMED the word STONED.

That pretty much caused all conversations in the lines on both sides of us to cease. The lady in front of me turned back around and said, "Whatever is she singing?" I told the woman it was a song from preschool. Baby Girl then said, "NO it's NOT! It's WILCO! From Mommy's CAR!"

With a flaming red face, I finally we got through the line and paid for my purchases. I told Baby Girl to stand up in the cart so that I could put her coat on. She had a pained expression on her face, but she stood up. That's right people, the girl who just had marathon peeing session in the bathroom peed her pants and on the coat she was sitting on. I don't even know where all the pee CAME from since she didn't drink all of her milk this morning. At about this time, Peaches started screaming because we had been dicking around for so long and it was past her lunch time. To shut her up, I opened up my backpack to give her some pretzels. The zipper promptly broke and my wallet and everything else fell out. After cleaning up the mess and getting the pee soaked coat onto Baby Girl, we got ready to head out the the parking lot. In a hail storm. Baby Girl had never been experience hail before so she had to scream and cry about it. Once in the car, we drove back home. I did the speed limit and everything. The cop who pulled me over earlier passed me by on the road and waved. Jackass.

All this because I didn't go to a Sunday Playdate.

You Say Shallow, I Say Screw You!

My blogfriend, MIM has taken a beating of bloglical proportions this week for her views. Some of the idiots have posted some rather mean and ugly comments and have called her a host of things. Shallow, in particular comes to mind.

You wanna see shallow? Read on!

I was hoping it would never come to this, but I am in need of opinions concerning a rather delicate matter in my home. While I already know what all of my female readers will say, I also desperately need the opinions of males as well in order to prove that I am right save my marriage.

Let me start off by saying that it is a rare event for Herr and I to argue. Sure, we have the token squabbles over who took the last beer without telling the other and nitpick over who should bathe the girls. We have similar views and ideologies. I even trust his judgement when it comes to things like art or furniture for the house. That said, I am distressed that we are currently in a bitter dispute over something so damn idiotic.

THE ISSUE

This is my dishwasher. I luuurve it. I love it because one can't hear it when it's running. It's true. We are fooled frequently and sometimes open it mid-cycle thinking it is off. I made it clear to Herr that we are taking the dishwasher and the refrigerator with us when we move. I told him that we should buy a plain ol' $250 dishwasher in a couple of weeks and have it installed and put the one we are taking with us to the basement and then the movers can move it. He agreed.







This is my kitchen. See the white cabinets. See the countertops that are gray with BLACK and blue flecks of color. See that the sides of my stainless steel appliances are BLACK. Should the dishwasher be white or BLACK? Herr feels that the dishwasher should be white to blend in with the cabinets. I told him he was on crack. The current dishwasher doesn't blend in now, and besides, the sides of the other appliances are BLACK. It's going to look really stupid and out of place to have a white dishwasher.

I am the first one to say that there are so many other more important topics to debate (Abortion, Sudan, Iraq, etc.) However, none of those issues will ever be solved on my blog. I need to choose my battles and this is the one I have decided take on at the moment, no matter how shallow and idiotic it appears to be. Besides, I never said this was the Huffington Post. Oh, wait--of course it's not the Huffington Post: I don't make stuff UP! Herr has completely refused to further debate this. I thought this would be an impartial forum to come up with a viable solution. Even if you have never commented on my site before, I am begging you to respond, even if it's the answer I don't want to hear. Who knows? Maybe I'm wrong. I can take it. I just figured this would be a more democratic method than buying the dishwasher behind his back while he's away interviewing over the next couple of weeks.

****UPDATE: Thanks to everyone who provided feedback. After further discussion, we discovered that Lowes has a cheap stainless steel dishwasher for only $50 more than the one we were going to buy. Suweet! And, we can advertise that it is brand new. Crisis averted.

Happy Spring, My Ass

Ugh. Our luck ran out this morning. We've been fortunate to avoid snow for most of the season. Now that it's Spring, it only makes sense for us to get a storm. Normally, I wouldn't care but I am officially alone until late Thursday night. Herr Hausfrau is heading to Salt Lake City today for his first of seven interviews across the country over the next three weeks.

Cold Crappy Weather+Wind=ape-shit children

I am praying that the sun will come back out tomorrow with a high of 70 degrees. Don't laugh. It could happen.

I went to my very first ever Physical Therapy Session last evening. Not so impressed. For those of you keeping score at home, I have Plantar Fibromatosis. The non-medical term for this is, "My Heels Fucking Hurt Like Bloody Hell Every Damn Day." It seems that I overdid it at my new gym a month ago, hitting the treadmill and elliptical machine for too long and didn't properly stretch. As a result, I would get out of bed in the morning and promptly fall over from the pain in my feet. No lie. I had this problem about 8 years ago but it wasn't nearly this bad. It went away after I stopped wearing heels to work every day and wore a heel cup in my shoes for a couple of months. I couldn't take the pain anymore a couple of weeks ago, so I went to a podiatrist who prescribed foot exercises before getting out of bed and at night, anti-inflammatories, ice on my heels at night and physical therapy twice a week for three weeks. The hardest part is wearing shoes on my feet at all times. I am a barefoot or flip flop wearing kind of a girl.

The Physical Therapist, "Steve" made me instantly uncomfortable. I am a huge advocate for respecting people's personal space. Steve apparently doesn't subscribe to that philosophy. He is also touchy-feely. He kept touching the small of my back to guide me to places around the room. He also kept sliding his hand down my entire back when I did stretching exercises. The absolute worst part was when I was on an examining table and he was holding my foot and wanted me to push it towards him. That would have been OK, but he was making me push my foot into his GROIN!

Does anyone know if this is normal? I initially wasn't overly concerned because I thought he was gay and I have several touchy-feely gay friends. But then he started talking about his WIFE AND KIDS. I didn't want to give the 90 year old man next to me a heart attack if I started getting belligerent with him, so I didn't say anything there.

I would like to get some opinions, though. I plan on changing Physical Therapists, but I need to figure out how I should best complain. Any ideas?

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Despite the rather Germanic name of my blog, we are an Irish family (with some other stuff thrown in) through and through!

We decided to get the party started early, as an Irish family worth their corned beef and cabbage would do!

And about that rule I made when I was 8 that I would never dress my children alike: GAH!

Back Home

I am back at Hausfrau Haus after spending the weekend with June , Ward, Wally, and the twin Beavs. The original plan was for Baby Girl to come with me for some special "Mommy/Daughter time. However, Wally was throwing up the night before we were leaving, so June called me as I was pulling out of the driveway at 5:30AM to tell us he was sick. I decided to leave Baby Girl at home to be safe. Baby Girl took it well, thanks to the new Dora dvd I had purchased for the trip. Also, she quickly deduced that Gramma was there to care for Peaches, so she would have multiple trips to Old McDonalds (McDonalds). So I set out alone.

Hot Damn! I had the good fortune of riding in a car alone. Seven hours each way! I could stop (or not stop) when I wanted. I could enjoy the silence. I could play "There,There" by Radiohead 12 times consecutively and not get a look from Herr like I had a scorpion crawling across my face. It's the little things...

The visit was lovely but very busy. I may have previosuly mentioned that the Cleavers are moving to Canada this summer and they put their house on the market last week. I don't know how June does it every day with the three kids, but she is amazing. The weekend was a blur of toddlers and 3 year olds playing, diapers, feedings, getting the house ready for the open house, and figuring out where to go during the openhouse and other potential buyer visits. It wasn't all craziness though. We were able to read gossip magazines and laugh and do some shopping. On Sunday evening I begged to go to Ward's "trivia night" at the local English Pub. June had discussed it at some length in the past. I needed to witness this wonder for myself. I was not disappointed--especially when Ward's trivia team won $350. The best part was watching the other trivia teams come up to talk smack grudgingly congratulate Team Ward on their victory.

The drive back yesterday was adventurous as I drove through almost seven straight hours of thunderstorms. I refused to pull over, however, because I REALLY missed the girls and I wanted to be home before they woke up from their naps. I became super excited when I saw my two favorite Billboards on I-71: "IF YOU WERE TO DIE TOMORROW WHERE WOULD YOU SPEND THE REST OF ETERNITY?" and "HELL IS REAL." I don't know of two billboards that are more welcoming. God Bless the Midwest.

Things are back to normal now that I am home. Baby Girl is in major love with the gift Auntie June gave her--a Groovy Girl doll named Lourdes and a bed. Peaches loves her new pillow doll I got her. I will be enjoying the normalcy until next week when Herr starts his fly-in interviews. From March 21 until April 7 he will be interviewing in Salt Lake City, Groton, CT, Cambridge, MA, Atlanta and Wilmington, DE. Should be fun. Instead of doing a March Madness betting pool, I think I will do a "Where are the Hausfraus' Going to Move?" betting pool. Please submit your bets by April 15. Winners will receive some ADDITIONAL cool prizes that the Vietnam Vets didn't pick up last week. You can't win if you don't play!

I Got Nothin'

Things are pretty quiet here at Hausfrau Haus this week. I have been setting things aside for the Vietnam Vets to pick up on Friday since I don't want to do another cross-country move with a bunch of crap that we don't need. It's amazing how the stuff just piles up. Since we've only been in Ohio 10 months, we haven't had too much time to get completely overrun with crap, so it's manageable.

Herr Hausfrau is doing telephone interviews at a rapid pace. He also heard back from his former boss at his old company on Monday. He got approval to bring Herr back to the company. At this point, it will take about a month to put together the HR approvals and put an offer together. That is a good thing as it will give Herr more time to do some second interviews with other companies to see if there is something better.

Hmmm, what else. Oh yeah! The NJ company I still occasionally work for just moved into a new building within the same complex as their previous office. It took my friend about 12 minutes to realize that there was something strange going on in the office across the hall. She noticed that there were men hanging out in front of the other office door, ringing a DOORBELL! She decided to go across the hall to introduce herself, but the two Russian ladies who answered the door wouldn't let her in. They informed her that the company is a massage parlor. My friend went online to Google the name of their company and discovered a message board that was VERY informative: "$60 at the door, $100 in the back." "They get on top." You get the picture. The HR department in our company is horrified and wants to call the cops right away. My friend is worried because the girls' cars have NY plates and she is not comfortable messing around with what she thinks could be the Russian Mob. What makes this so weird is that these offices are in such a cute little town. It's crazy that it's there. Obviously, there is a market...

The best part of my week is going to be the road trip I am taking with Baby Girl on Friday. We are driving up to see June Cleaver for a long weekend. I am looking forward to spending quality time with my best friend, before we are both seperated by a lot more miles since she is moving to Canada and we are moving to Hell Knows Where. I am anticipating lots of girl talk, alcohol consumption (after children are in bed) and perhaps some shoe shopping. Yay for me! It should also be interesting for Peaches in that not only will I be away from her, but so will her sister. I am pretty sure I am getting the better end of the deal. Fortunately for Herr, his mother is coming on Thursday to help out while I am gone. I have no doubt that I will come back and Peaches will have a brand new wardrobe, all new toys and will be saying her first words, "chicken nuggets" and "diet coke."

Our House is So Quiet Now

My friend Amy came to visit on Sunday from New Jersey. She brought Baby Girl's best friend Katie and her little brother Jack. Herr and I met Amy and her husband Michael about 3 1/2 years ago when we were all in the same Childbirth Class. I don't think we ever actually spoke during the class. I, for one, was entirely too bitched up to be all that friendly to anyone in the last 4-6 weeks of my pregancy. The class was at 7PM on Monday, so I was really tired, especially after working all day. Plus I was sick at the end of my pregnancy and was constantly leaving the class to cough up my lungs. We actually met up again after our kids were born and we saw each other at the local Babies R Us. The rest is history. Amy has been such a wonderful support system for me because our daughters are two weeks apart and we didn't know what the hell we were doing. At any rate, this week was a dizzying amount of chasing, giggling, playing, roughhousing, fighting, crying, watching Barney, (Jack LOVES him some Barney!) screaming, makeup parties, shrieking, dancing and dressing up in princess dresses. Occasionally, Amy and I relaxed while the children napped. By the second day, the four kids napped went down at the same time in the afternoon.

Baby Girl learned all about make up application this week from her friend Katie.













Despite all of the craziness in the house, my house has never been more organized, mealtimes and baths went like clockwork, and Amy was on top of the laundry (my least favorite chore.) Did I mention that Katie LOVES TO DUST? As a result, I asked Amy to marry me and she said YES! We might be onto something with the whole "two mothers/1 father household thing. We'll be setting up our commune just as soon as Herr figures out where his new job will be. And so Amy's husband Michael doesn't feel left out, he may join the commune as well. He is good at building stuff and westling with the kids. This really could work. I'll keep all of you posted.

Yesterday we had the pleasure of meeting Jenette and her adorable son, Ethan. They came over after the kids' naps and there was more chasing and playing and arts and crafts and Barney watching. Ethan was initially shy, but got right into the thick of things in no time. It was a great time and I was so relieved that Baby Girl and Katie didn't hogtie Ethan and put him in a princess dress. Because it could have happened.

And now that Amy and her stinkin' cute kids are on their way back to New Jersey, our house is so quiet. So very quiet. It is bound to get a little noisy tomorrow when Herr's Aunt and Uncle come to stay. It should be interesting as Herr hasn't seen them in 15 years and I have never met them.

Weekend Recap

February sucks.

Peaches, who is only a year old, no longer wishes to nap in the afternoons. She has been screaming her displeasure for a week. This won't do.

I have officially eaten my last Girl Scout Cookie. I can't stomach another one.

Instead, I've switched to this: In case you can't read the description on the bottom, it says, "Thick Buckeye Fudge Flowing Through Peanut Butter Ice Cream Loaded With Chocolate Covered Peanut Butter Buckeyes." If you put that quote to porn music, LOOK OUT! Ice Cream Porn. Now that's some porn I could get excited about.





Making and eating 45 a few fried crab rangoons because one doesn't know how many a recipe makes (they were supposed to be an appetizer--not a meal) do NOT cause a heart attack. Yet.

The Constant Gardner: Wow Wow WOW!

Mr. & Mrs. Smith: Not so much.

Milestone in Baby Girl's Life: I took her to see her very first movie in a theater this afternoon, Curious George. Of course, I started to get misty-eyed and weepy the second I heard Jack Johnson's sweet voice starting the movie; I think because I usually listen to Jack Johnson on a Friday evening with a frosty cold Red Stripe in my hand realized how sweet and special this moment was for my little girl.

Herr's Interview Update: Things are progressing nicely. Herr had a telephone interview with a Pharmaceutical company based in Cambridge, MA on Friday and has another one scheduled for Tuesday with a company in Wilmington, DE. I only spent 4 hours on Realtor.com crying looking at the cost of real estate in those two locations, as opposed to the 12 or so hours I spent on Realtor.com last weekend.

My friend Amy is in town until Friday!!! Yippee! We'll put our three-year-olds in charge at home and we will go hit the mall.

Weekend Recap--President's Day Weekend Version

Herr Hausfrau and I had an enjoyable President's Day weekend, despite the fact that we had gotten "the news" of Herr's impending unemployment. We ate a lot of food and drank a lot of beer. Some of you may be thinking, "How is that different from any other weekend at Hausfrau Haus?" Well, you would be quite RUDE to think that, now wouldn't you? In particular, we ate our weight in Girl Scout Cookies as they came delivered by our sweet Girl Scout Cookie Sales Consultant "Amber" on Saturday afternoon. Some of the GS Cookies were eaten in conjunction with the Edy's GS Cookie Ice Cream--awwyeah! Herr had ordered the cookies awhile back one day and we had been chomping at the bit to get them and eat them. After Amber the GSC Consultant delivered the cookies, I got ready to tear into them.

"Here Herr," I said. "Here are your Samoas. Oh wait, I'll have to call Amber because there are Thin Mints in this bag instead of Tagalongs."

"I didn't order Tagalongs," came the reply from the living room.

"What the fuck do you mean you didn't order Tagalongs?! You KNOW those are my FAVORITE Girl Scout Cookie--the same way Samoas are your favorite. We have been together 15 years and you FORGOT that my favorite Girl Scout Cookie is the Tagalong?!?!?!? That's something that any good spouse knows about the other. I believe it is covered on the second date! I don't even know who you are anymore!"

"I'm sorry Hausfrau, I forgot. But you like Thin Mints, don't you?"

"Ppffft, NO!" I said, my cookie-full mouth spraying Thin Mint crumbs across the kitchen. "Pppfft You Suck!"

After I ate an entire box of Thin Mints (there might be 12 cookies in the box) I called Amber's mom and left a message to get more cookies if they had any to spare. Within 30 minutes we had four more boxes of cookies--two Tagalongs and two Samoas. Because that's just the kind of wife I am.

Since it was a long weekend, Herr wasn't really in a position to do much job hunting since no one would be receiving the resumes until Tuesday. Besides, his boss told his group that all ressearch stops as of now and that all the employees need to do from now until June 30 is finish up any publications they might be working on, and look for a job. Currently, job hunting is not taking up too much of his day at work. But that didn't stop me from looking for him. I can't help it--it's the HR in me. I'm a recruiter by trade, so I basically live on the job sites for work. I need not have bothered, as he pretty much knew about all of the existing openings with every major pharmacutical company in the country. Herr has a good reputation in his field and has a lot of contacts, including his former boss in New Jersey. In his type of field, you never get a job from Monster.com. You get it because someone knows you. That doesn't bode well when one has a meddling recruiter wife who wants to help.

I have all the faith in the world that Herr is going to find a great job and we are going to be fine. We always have been. It's just that I am a wreck because all I can think about is that we have no idea where we will be living in 4-6 months. While that may seem like a long time, it's not. After Herr told me where all of his contacts work, I spent the rest of the weekend looking at houses on Realtor.com to get a feel for each market (New Jersey, CT, Boston, Raleigh, San Francisco and Ontario, Canada.) We've already agreed that if he gets his old job back in New Jersey, we would live in PA. If he gets a job in Boston, we'll live in New Hampshire. etc.

I realize that I need to calm the hell down. My perpetual state of obsessing over the uncontrollable will drive all of us nuts. I am hoping that going to the gym more will help relieve some of my stress. One of the plus sides to the layoff announcement is that Herr no longer needs to get to work at the ass-crack of dawn, so I can go to the gym every morning before he goes to work. Well, every morning might be a bit unrealistic, but three days in the same week would be a good start. Unfortunately, any one who really knows me know that I am not happy unless I am worrying or obsessing about something. Because that's just the kind of wife I am.

Misfit Proverb

Give a child a toy, and it will become lonely and abandoned in the toyroom.















Give a child carte blanche with one kitchen cabinet and they will be happy for hours playing, "Shopping at Target," "Shopping at Kroger," "Let's Play Cooking Show," "Let's Ice Skate (with Tupperware Lids)," and "Baby Girl's and Peaches' Club House," complete with doors.

Herr & Misfit Hausfrau's Friday Night Lay-Off Pity Party Recap

Number of Sierra Nevada Pale Ales consumed: 12
Number of Tyson Buffalo Wing Chicken Strips eaten: How many are in a 2 lb. bag?
Number of Tater Tots: 1 lb. bag
Hidden Valley Ranch: 1 bottle
Edy's Girl Scout Cookie (samoa) Ice Cream: 1/2 carton
Number of times the word "fuck" was part of a statement: Lost count after 10
Number of times Misfit said, "We are going to be just fine!" and Herr said, "Oh, Yeah, we're going to be OK.": Lost count after 10
Number of lists created to start getting the house ready to sell: 1
Number of Times Baby Girl asked, "What are you talking about?": 3
Number of Times Misfit wanted to consult with her secret friend Virginia Slim on the deck when no one was looking but didn't: Lost count after 10
Number of hours watching the Olympics without really watching it: 2
Number of tears shed: ZERO

A Fucked Up American Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, there was a family living a good life in the suburbs of New Jersey. The husband was a scientist who wanted to discover a drug that cured cancer, or AIDS, or even herpes. He worked hard, as did his wife, to provide for their growing family.

After awhile, the family decided that it was too expensive to live a decent life in New Jersey. As long as they lived there, they would always have to worry about their financial futures. The family also wanted their children to know their grandmothers and cousins. The way to do that was to move to the Midwest. The problem was, there were only four companies in the Midwest that did the kind of work that the husband did--and three of them weren't hiring. The husband interviewed with a fantastic company in the Midwest that offered him a promising career track and interesting projects. The company was a huge international consumer products company that had a small pharmaceutical arm. It was perfect! He was promised a ton of exposure for his work, rapid promotions and a lot less corporate bullshit because the group was small, but had the comfort of a large corporate umbrella for things like benefits and reputation.

And so they went. They bought a beautiful house. A house they NEVER could have had on the East Coast. They had the luxury of the wife being able to stay home with the children. They opened up a couple of 529Bs for the kids--something they wouldn't have been able to do without a lot of sacrifice. They paid off their debts, leaving only a house payment. They were hardly wealthy, but life was good.

The first week the husband was in his new job, he found out that an announcement had been made two weeks prior to the move that the pharmaceutical division was going to restructure. The wife was surprised that no one had bothered to pick up the phone to let them know prior to the move. The husband said that it probably didn't apply to him since they just paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to move him and several other scientists to this town to work. They had told him they were expanding, after all. But then he was told he wouldn't get the associates that he was promised upon joining. Scientists who had been there for years started applying for positions outside of the pharmaceutical division so they wouldn't have to leave the fair city and work for another company. Since there was a hiring freeze, the husband had lots of work piled up on him.

Months passed, and the company's main focus was on the purchase of another company. A company whose newest product is a razor with 5 blades. The pharmaceutical division plugged along. The husband was growing increasingly frustrated with the situation, but was hopeful that the reorganization would bring welcome changes. First the company said they would detail the reorganization at the end of January. When January came and went, the company said the announcement would come at the end of February. Then they said the announcement would come on February 17.

The husband went to the meeting. The powers that be announced that the entire Pharmaceutical R&D team will be dissolved, affecting 300 people. Gone. Buh Bye. The last day will be June 30. The husband will receive three months severance since he has only been there less than a year. He also received an invitation to apply for exciting R&D positions in areas such as diapers, toothpaste or laundry detergent. The husband is going to find out if groups will be gradually let go or if everyone's last day is June 30.

So now, the family will be preparing to move elsewhere. They've done it before. St. Louis, Maryland, Pittsburgh and New Jersey. While the family never really thought they would live there forever, there was power in thinking that they would be leaving on their own volition.

Hausfrau Product Review

Recently, we purchased our fourth coffee maker in twelve months. I.am.not.kidding. As a matter of fact, I am guessing that we are on at least our 25th coffee maker since we got married in 1994. Part of the challenge is that we are power coffee drinkers. We drink ALOT of coffee--especially on the weekends. And if we have friends over on the weekends? Fugetabout it. It runs all day for three days. Another challenge is that we are klutzy. We have broken so many coffeepots, and wouldn't you know--it's always the one with no replacement carafe available. Thirdly, they are all crap with a capital C. We are always amazed when we stay with friends who we've not seen in a year and they still have the same coffee maker. I just don't understand.

We've purchased them all (except a Bunn and those coffee makers with coffee pods). Proctor Silex, KitchenAid, Krups, Mr. Coffee, Delonghi, Braun, Hamilton Beach, Cuisinart. We've purchased Melitta coffee presses (love them but they don't make them large enough for a power drinker.) We've spent $20 and we've spent considerably more. We've had the most basic of models and the models with all of the bells and whistles (except for the grind and brew--our friends HATED it.) We've studied consumer reports and we have flipped a coin to choose one. It doesn't matter. They always let us down.

We currently have these two little gems in the basement collecting dust:

I ordered the white one from JC Penney days before we moved into our new house so it would be waiting for us when we got there. Our previous coffee maker bit the dust after a particularly rough but memorable "Goodbye New Jersey Party Weekend." We were minutes from a Starbucks, so it wasn't a hardship to get coffee until moving day. I thought that two carafes and the $100 price tag would mean lots o'coffee, despite the fact that nowhere on the website did it list the cup capacity. I was wrong. Those two sizeable carafes make a whopping 4 cups each. It took up too much space on the counter to be useful. Why didn't I return it, you ask? The freaking movers took the box it came in and JC Penney wouldn't take it. Bastards. The other one is a Hamilton Beach Stay & Go. Love it. Too bad I shattered the glass liner inside the stainless steel carafe when I dropped it a few weeks ago. Guess what? They don't sell replacement carafes. I've been trolling Ebay too, to no avail. I usually have a spare Gevalia in the basement to use, but I was fresh out. Don't act like you've never ordered a Gevalia. We've ordered so many that we have even used
our dogs' names for creating new accounts to get the coffee makers. They are just as good as the rest. We are no longer conveniently close to a coffee shop, so I went to Target.

I was getting ready to purchase an old fashioned stovetop percolater when I happened upon this:
Sweet! No more carafe to break. It makes 12 cups. It stays warm for two hours. And it was on sale for under $40. Who cares if it looks like the pop machine in the McDonalds drivethru?! We've had it for almost three weeks and it's still working. Just to be safe, I will check out Gevalia's latest offering and order it under my husband's middle name.