She Seems to Know it All

This morning, we headed to the Farmer's Market to get our last box of vegetables. The radio was on, and holiday tunes were playing as the girls played, "Let's pretend that I am Barbie Mariposa and YOU are the WITCH!" Suddenly, "Feliz Navidad" came on the radio.

"Oh, Genna. Guess what? "Feliz Navidad" is the song that Japanese people sing to wish each other Merry Christmas!

They TRY to Render me Speechless

As mentioned in previous posts, my girls are virtual arts and crafts producing machines. Give them an hour and they can cover the kitchen table with dozens of pictures, necklaces and other jewelry cut out from paper. They make paper purses, paper gingerbread men, letters to their friends, letters to Santa, you get the picture. Everything is girlie, everything is pink, purple and sweet.

Yesterday, Ella came up to me and said in a very proud sing-songy voice, "I made something for you."

I looked at what she handed me. It was pink and purple, with a little bit of blue.

"Aww, you made me a key. How cute. Is it a key to your heart?"

My daughter looked at me like I lost my mind.

"NO, MOMMY, it's a GUN!"

"Wha---WHAT?!? Um, why did you make me a gun?"

Ella rolled her eyes and said, "Mommy! So you can shoot it!"

"Ummm, what does it shoot?"

Ella pondered that for a minute. "Ohhhh, fireballs."

"Oh, ok. Would I hurt someone if I shot them with this gun?"

"Welllll. I guess you wouldn't if they ran fast."

And there you have it.

Elf on the Shelf--A Review

Last year, Corey noticed that our neighbors had an elf that kept moving around their house. When we were over for Christmas Eve, we asked about it. Turns out, their family does, Elf on the Shelf. This elf is supposed to fly to the North Pole every night and report to Santa whether the children in the house he is doing surveillance are good or not. The elf must never be touched by the children or he will go back to the North Pole and not come back. Corey was absolutely smitten and told us we had to have it for the next Christmas. In my drunkenness, I am sure I agreed.

Fast forward, October, 2008. Corey kept bugging me until I ordered the Elf on the Shelf--all $34.95 of it. It is a flimsy little doll that weighs about 2 ounces and comes with a book and a keepsake box.

November 30, 2008--We announced to the children that we had an elf coming to visit us during the holiday season, and explained the whole lie story. The reactions were mixed. Ella gets excited about anything and everything. Genna crossed her arms and said, "I don't WANT an elf staying here and watching me." When I told them they could name the elf anything they wanted, Ella decided to name him, "Present." Then she changed it to, "Elf Prince" something or other. Genna named him, "Chicka Chicka Boom Boom."

The first day was magical. All I had to do was look in the general direction of where the elf was sitting and say, "The elf..." and the girls would get all bug-eyed and straighten up. That day, there were no time-outs, no tantrums.

Day Two was a little more difficult. The elf is so lightweight and flimsy that he wouldn't stay seated in an upright position on our living room bookshelf. Every time someone walked past the bookshelf, he would fall over. The girls accused him of sleeping. We told the girls that he was really tired from flying to the North Pole and that he was new at this job. We would put him back in an upright position. Ella finally came up to me and told me that ,"Santa sent us a lazy elf." I couldn't agree more. There were also some tantrums and shenanigans that day. Reminding them that the elf was around would get them to stop briefly.

It has been a week since the elf started to grace the girls with his presence. While the first thing they do when they get up is look for him, the rest of the day he is ignored. They don't seem to care if the elf sees them fight, sass back, whine or tell me, "NO!" I have decided that the next time one of them is fresh with me, I will make sure he doesn't come back the next day, but there will be a note written in tiny elf-like handwriting, telling them that they are beasts. That should fix them.

I am waiting patiently for Christmas Eve to be over so that I can lock the elf back into his cute little keepsake box. I am creeped out by him and consider him to be a not-so-distant cousin of garden gnomes and clowns. They all frighten me. I am also tired of keeping track of all of the lies I am telling my children. I have a bad feeling that the Elf on a Shelf is going to be a painful memory that will be thrown back in my face during one of their many future therapy sessions.

Thanksgiving

Team Hausfrau had a great time away for the Thanksgiving holiday. We spent the first couple of days north of Cincinnati with friends of ours. Rob and Laura have two girls Ella and Genna's ages and a son as well. The four girls were a tornado inside of a cyclone, wrapped up in a hurricane of dress-up dresses and Barbie dolls. It is so great to not be 12 hours away from Rob and Laura!!!

Our time in Deep Creek was great, with one exception. I got some sort of head cold/sinus infection the minute we got there and I ended up blowing about 3 quarts of egg drop soup out of my nose during the week. I felt reeeaaaalllly bad when others in the house started saying they had sore throats (sorry guys!)

Other than that, the girls had a blast playing with their friend Ava, getting to know a baby (Eve). They aren't around too many babies, so I was pleased that they didn't pile drive her. I did, however, feel like the loser parent for seemingly yelling all the time because Ella and Genna spent much of each and every day whining about various things. If our friends end up not travelling with us ever again, I will understand.

Our view from the hot tub:

Genna's got Jazz Hands.

Pre-dinner hike

Yay! Dinner's ready!

We came back from vacation well-fed and well-rested. I read two books while we were on vacation, got plenty of sleep, and introduced the girls to one of the best movies ever, "The Sound of Music." Corey was pretty shaken up watching me watch it because I ignore everything around me for 2.5 hours and cry every 15 minutes. There is a reason why we don't own themovie. I think Corey would leave me if he saw me in front of the television three nights a week, sobbing because I am watching the movie, yet again.

Randomness

Things here are insane, but it is a good thing. We are packing, and repacking, and shifting our crap from one end of the house to the other to prepare for our Thanksgiving vacation. Most people just pack, but Corey lives to pack, repack, shift and organize, typically several days in advance. The man likes to have a job to do, so I usually sit back and let him go. There's no point in trying to reign him in.

We leave tomorrow and will spend the weekend north of Cincinnati. We haven't told the girls that they will be seeing their little girlfriends yet, for fear that their heads will explode. From there, we will head to Deep Creek Maryland. We are renting a house with a bunch of our friends from Pittsburgh and New Jersey. I have been obsessively checking Weather.com by the hour to ensure that it will be cold and snowy the entire week. It is looking good for that. It will be a week of eating, drinking, hiking, tubing, sledding, playing Wii and celebrating our 15th wedding anniversary. It doesn't get much better than that. That's the advantage of not spending Thanksgiving with family. There is no drama, there are no shenanigans.

We recently joined a co-op farm to get 4 boxes of winter produce over the next 2 months. I was so excited after we sent the check and decided that we will be

learning to cook with interesting vegetables and will be forced to eat it because we are paying quite a bit to do it. We decided a little over a year ago to eat a mostly organic diet, so we thought that joining a co-op was a natural extension of that. I was practically giddy with anticipation when I drove to pick up our first box two weeks ago with Ella. The vegetables were beautiful and overflowing from the box:

Corey just picked up our second box yesterday. Here's the reality: I haven't a fucking clue as to what to do with the mammoth red turnips they keep giving us (those are those big red things in the photo above), I hate radishes, and kale is most foul. I still cannot swallow celery (I never have been able to) and it is cut up in the freezer to take with us to Deep Creek for someone else to deal with. I still dislike eggplant and will only eat it when it is in baba ganousch,so I have a freezer full of that.

Ella has been quite busy at school, what with the Thanksgiving Program the kindergartners put on yesterday during the school assembly. I thought that it would just be a skit with the parents there taking pictures. I had no idea that the entire school would be there. No wonder she was so nervous! The kiddos did a really great job and if I can figure out how to put video on my blog, I will do so. Here are a couple of still shots:

With all of Ella's schoolwork, dance classes, dress-up play and tv watching, it is amazing that she has found the time to take part in another venture. Ella is teaming up with Hallmark to create a new line of personalized birthday cards. Here is her first one that is going out today to her friend Jordan:

Ella's talent for personalizing the card really comes through. It just doesn't get any more personal than confessing that you like your friend's hair. For the record, Jordan's hair IS to die for.

Speaking of birthdays, I am in the middle of birthday party angst over here. Our girls' birthday parties have always been casual get togethers with OUR friends and family. The girls' friends were the friends we made for them. Since we are new here and Ella is now starting to make friends on her own, I thought that maybe the party should be different now and maybe invite some of her new school friends. Ella doesn't know it yet, but we are having a birthday party for her on Saturday, December 6. I thought it would be fun if she had a tea party. I agonized over the invite list because she only talks about a couple of girls at school. I decided to invite all of the girls in her class (8) and then invite her friend from down the street and her little sister. I figured that only a couple of girls would show up since she doesn't appear to be friends with many of them. So far, all but one has RSVP'd yes.

Here's where I need help with birthday party etiquette: do kids open presents at parties when they are held at home? I have been to parties at Chuckie Cheese where presents were opened if it was a small party, not opened if it was a large party. I have been to parties at home, but I don't remember if the presents were opened or not. I could sure use some guidance in this arena.

Well, I am off to the dentist to pick up my retainer. That's right, you heard me. A retainer. Some people turn 40 and buy corvettes. Me? I get a freaking retainer because my teeth are shifting to the right side of my face.

And So It Begins

Most days, one can find Ella at the kitchen table, drawing and coloring for hours on end. Lately, she has been calling out to me, asking how words are spelled. Last Sunday was no different:

"Mommy, how do you spell, 'Santa Claus?'"

I told her. A few minutes later, Ella asked, "Mommy, how do you spell, 'microphone?'"

I told her.

"What are you doing over there? I asked.

"Oh, I 'm making my list for Santa. How do you spell 'Barbie and the Diamond Castle Doll?'"

I told her. A few minutes after that, Ella asked, "Mommy, how do you spell, 'my own couch and tv in my room?'"

While I didn't spell that, "N-E-V-E-R," I did tell her that she would not be getting a couch and television in her bedroom.

"But Mommy, I have plenty of room, and it would be so nice to have a couch in my room. And a tv. So that I could watch whatever I want, when I want."

The Day After

One has to wonder if Barack Obama woke up this morning , and said, "What the fuck have I just done? I now have the hardest and crappiest job in America."

I'm Crying on the Inside

Yesterday, I was on the phone with my boss talking about work (duh) when Ella piped up from the back seat.

"Mommy, we got to vote for the 'lection today. I voted for John McCain."

"Did you hear that?" I asked Jennifer in a panic.

"Oh, yes I did. I think you need to take care of that." said Jennifer.

"I'll talk to you later." I said.

I asked Ella why she voted for John McCain. Of course, she had no idea. She's 5. I asked her what the teachers had said about the candidates. Ella replied that John McCain is the leader of our country. God help us if that happens today.

While I was momentarily devastated that my 5 year old didn't vote for Obama, I quickly remembered that she really shouldn't be worrying about this stuff anyway. I am not sure why the Tennessee schools thought it would be fun to hold mock elections, but I am thinking that the young kids probably didn't need to be a part of it.

I do hope my daughter, at some point, becomes interested in politics. Corey and I have vowed to encourage her to vote for the issues, not the party. Even though I am a registered Democrat, I tend to vote more conservatively when it comes to local government. Truth be told, had McCain gotten the nomination 8 years ago, I probably would have voted for him. I liked what he had to say then. It's a different world now.

U-B-O Spells Pig!

Genna's preschool follows the same curriculum that Ella has in kindergarten. It has been cute for the girls to come home and sing the same songs that they learned from their respective schools. This is where school is a great cover for my suckitude in parenting: I am not a good teacher. At all. While I have taught the girls all about playing "Rock, Paper, Scissors" and "Thumb War," I am a wretched singer and haven't done much in the way of teaching them little ditties. I envy my friend Jenny, who has been regaling my girls with cute songs for years , and now does the same for her little one. If it weren't for Jenny, the girls would have NEVER learned the "Weenie Man Song," or her own creation she sang long before the book came out, "Whose Knees are These? Whose Toes are Those?"

At any rate, Genna is quite pleased with herself that she is learning, "big kid stuff" at school and frequently comes home and sings what she has learned. Occasionally, she combines songs and gets a little confused. This morning when she first woke up and climbed into bed us she sang the following to the combined tunes of BINGO, The Farmer in the Dell, and another song they sing to spell colors.

There was a farmer who had a pig, E-I-E-I-O
And the pig snorted
And he ate some mud
U-B-O spells PIG
Hi Ho the Dairy-o
And then the piggy pooped

It should be noted that at the end of nearly every song she sings, it ends in the main character pooping.

Happy Halloween Everyone!

Hopefully , Someone Will Come Forward

Last Friday, there was a rash of car break-ins in our small town. One of the items stolen was a system that a little girl from Ella's school uses to communicate. It was probably mistaken for a laptop.

Here is the news story. My neighbor Debbie is in the piece as well. She is an aide at the school who works with the little girl.

PULEEEEEEESE

Let me close my eyes and let it be 2009 when I open them, for the love of GOD!
http://popwatch.ew.com/popwatch/2008/10/lost-season-5-p.html

Lover, Thy Name is David Sedaris

I can't help it. I have always had unrequited crushes on the most unattainable people. Gay men would be a prime example. Smart gay men. Smart, funny gay men. Smart, funny, non-traditionally handsome gay men. Smart, funny, non-traditionally handsome, almost falsetto-voiced gay men. Smart, funny, non-traditionally handsome, almost falsetto-voiced gay men who reduce me to a lump of giggly school girl when my husband and I see one in the lobby of "The Hermitage" as he checks in. For the record, he almost ran over my foot with his rolling suitcase (swoon). Smart, funny, non-traditionally handsome, almost falsetto-voiced gay men who can write and/or tell stories so funny that I feared I would pee my pants from laughing. The problem was, I was in the Orchestra Section, Row P, seat 30.

Next time I see him, I will wear a Depends, in addition to my heart on my sleeve.

Totally Worth Being Up at 5:00 AM For This!

I am up again at an ungodly hour, but I can't be upset about it this time. I just found out that Terry Tate, Office Linebacker IS BACK! The Terry Tate, Office Linebacker commercials from the Super Bowl are my favorite commercials of all time.

I'll nap later. For now, I will just enjoy being alive and basking in Terry Tateness.

Hausfrau Update

So much has been going on of late, but I haven't had time to really write much during the day. Instead, I am writing at night. As in 2:00 AM. The kids come into our room at least 4 nights a week, usually for valid issues like vomiting, crapping in a pull-up,etc. Other times, the girls just can't sleep. I can't yell at them because I totally understand. Even if they didn't come downstairs, I would probably be awake. The four of us just don't sleep well in this house and I can't figure out why. I will frequently find Genna sleeping in Ella's room on the floor or Ella sleeping on the sectional in the playroom. When I ask them why they weren't in their rooms, they say that they were tossing and turning and couldn't sleep.

So anyway, by the time I tuck the girls back in their beds, I am wide awake and have limited options for entertainment. If I turn on the television in the living room, the dogs will start a ruckus in the laundry room, so it is easier to just go to my office and get online.

So let's see, what have I been up to...oh yeah--I went on a road trip to Indiana with my friend to pop in on my mother. It turned out to be one of the best trips home ever. My mother was far too sick to be mean, which was a help. We spent some quality time together, I cleaned her apartment, and I ended up having some fun as well while I was there. I stayed with my friend's sister, Jennifer, who is always a riot. She is also very passionate about making the world a more beautiful place, so she makes it a point to do my hair. It's true. I have a bad hair life, but Jennifer makes it gorgeous. The bigger riot occurred when the three of us had dinner with their father and his long time love. "Big Daddy" is always good for a story, and boy, was he full of them. I could listen to the two of them for days.

Corey went away the following weekend for his annual golf weekend with his friends from home. The golf competition went to a whole new level this year with a trophy (found in the depths of the middle school where one of them works as a principal) and a blazer of questionable fabric from the Goodwill down the road. I went for the tackiest thing I could find because I never thought the jacket would ever make its way back into our home.

I was wrong. Apparently, Corey's handicap, and his best games ever cinched the title.

While Corey was off with his buddies, I represented Team Hausfrau in the neighborhood's Second Annual Chili Cook-Off and Weenie Roast. I didn't win, but I heard that my chili won a few votes. I am sure everyone was told that. It was a good chance to meet the rest of the neighbors I hadn't met.

This weekend, my Mother-in-Law and three nephews are coming for a visit, which should be fun. Next weekend Lori and Jennifer are coming to stay with me because there is some sort of crazy flea market. I am really disappointed that I won't be able to go with them because our elementary school has their huge Harvest Festival that weekend and Corey and I have both volunteered to work it. It won't all be bad though. I know my hair will look good.

Out of the Mouth of Ella

Ella recently learned how to fold a piece of paper, draw a design and cut it out. She started off by making hearts and circles. She quickly moved on to people, flowers, and more abstract designs.

After creating a particularly challenging design, she asked me to cut it out for her since scissors are still awkward for her when it comes to a lot of turns. As I cut out her latest creation, she said," Mommy, you are SO excellent at cutting."

"Why thank you, Ella."

"You're welcome, Mommy. You have had a lot and a lot and a lot of practice. Do you know how I know?"

"How do you know?"

"Well, because you are really, really, really, really, really, really (she's now counting on her fingers) really, really, really, really OLD!"

Overheard Outside

"Hey Ella."
"What Genna?"
"Let's pretend you and me are big kids, and that is your beer and this is my beer."

A Letter to the Man I Love

Dear Corey,

Have I told you lately how much I love you? How much I appreciate all that you do? Have I thanked you for not so much as raising an eyebrow when I told you of my plans to go off to some sort of tropical locale with my girlfriends in February? Did I even tell you that I am going away in February?

I think you are one of the smartest people I know. You are an amazing scientist who is part of something really big! I just know that you are going to help invent a drug to help people who suffer from Parkinson's Disease! The only person I know who is smarter than you is our friend Joe. He knows something about practically everything, so he beats you by a hair. I am hopeful that your smarty-pants genes were able to overcome my so-so genes when we reproduced so that our kids will have a fighting chance to be smart and get into good colleges.

I do have a question. Help me understand why you chose to clean up Ella's vomit with my shark this morning.

Love you,


Hausfrau

Planning a Road Trip Home

My last trip home a few weeks ago was a disaster, as indicated in a recent post. Actually, most of my trips home are disastrous. Believe it or not, this time it was a disaster mostly because of my mother. As many of you know, my mother has been ill with various ailments for many years. As a result, I come to her because she is too sick to travel. I usually fly home a few times a year to check up on her. The girls don't travel home with me because of the expense and the fact that Ella would probably get us removed from a plane because of her fear of flying. It is just easier to go home alone. Unfortunately, the girls don't get to see her often. They love Busia, but they really don't know her. They just don't have the kind of relationship with her that will give them good memories when they are adults. I am eternally grateful that the girls do have my mother-in-law, who is involved, spends quality time with them and plays with them.

At any rate, we had planned to come home for Labor Day weekend to see my mom since we are now a seven or eight hour drive as opposed to a 12+ hour journey. My mother was so excited because she hadn't seen her "babies" in 14 months and really want to hug on them. We left Friday evening, spent the night in Bloomington with my MIL, and then headed the remaining three hours to LaPorte the next morning. I called my mother once we were about 45 minutes from LaPorte to let her know we were close and that we would be coming by. I do this every time we come home so that I can ensure that she is awake and has time to clean up, get dressed and put her teeth in. When I got her on the phone and told her we would be there soon, this was her response:

"I'm sorry. I'm really not up to having visitors today. I took some pain medication a few days ago and now I am too sick to visit."

I counted to 100, and told Corey to head to our friends' house instead. I was fuming that she didn't tell me earlier in the week that she had taken pain medication. She reacts horribly to any and all pain medications when she takes them and it takes days for her to recover. Had I know that she had taken pain meds, we would not have come home. It just isn't worth it to drive 16 hours round trip for the girls to see her for two hours. That's another thing--when the girls are able to see Busia, they can only spend a couple of hours at a time with her because it tires her out. In addition, the girls are stressed out because we have to coach them before we get to her apartment:

No loud talking
Don't touch anything
Busia is sick
Don't hug her too hard
Don't step on her feet
Be careful when you climb up on the couch to sit next to her
Don't sit on her lap
Keep away from the sharp things in her apartment
Busia is sick
Busia is sick
Busia is sick

Genna is usually the first one to pipe up that she is ready to go home within minutes of getting to Busia's. It also doesn't help that after the hugs and kisses are over, my mother ignores them the rest of the time they are there. While I understand she can't get down on the floor with them to play, she could certainly color with them. But she doesn't.

So, we drove a total of 16 hours and the girls saw Busia on Sunday for two hours. The whole thing sucked. This trip is not unlike a previous trip we took a few years ago.

So now, I am going back. My mother is having an angioplasty next Wednesday. She was supposed to have it today but, surprise surprise, she is sick and they won't do it. I had planned on coming home for the weekend to help take care of her. Unfortunately, I can't come home next weekend, so I have decided to come home this weekend anyway to get her apartment cleaned and run her errands so she doesn't have to worry about that stuff when she returns home. I am hoping my sister can come home the following weekend to help, but I don't know if she can.

There are two reasons why this trip will be better.

#1 I am coming unannounced. It is always much more fun when I come home and don't tell my mother that I am coming. It always pisses her off, but her insults don't bother me.

#2 More importantly, one of my best friends is coming with me. I am picking up Lori in Kentucky and we will road trip together. We are staying at her sister's house, which will involve a lot of laughing, which is something I always need after a few hours with my mother. Lori doesn't know this yet, but I will take her over to see my mom, as she is one of the only friends I have that she adores. She's always nice to Lori.

It's gonna be fun...

Y'all Need to Calm Down

I knew that we had been affected by Hurricane Ike from a gas perspective, but I had no idea how bad it had gotten until I went to the gas station yesterday. Well, at least I tried to get gas. The first 10 gas stations had no gas. At all. I was on Empty and starting to get a little worried. I called my boss in Philadelphia and asked her if there was a gas shortage up there. There was silence on the line for a good 5 five seconds before she asked me what the heck I was talking about. All week long, there were gas stations out of gas, but they would be back in business the next day. This was getting weirder by the minute. I finally drove to Cool Springs and found a gas station with gas. And about 100 cars were wrapped around it. In addition, two news helicopters were flying around it, nearly crashing into each other. It was CAAARRRAAZZZY!

I waited for an hour, prayed I wouldn't run out before I got to the pump, got my gas, and went about my day. I told Corey about it later and was met with a look of disbelief.

This morning, we turned on the news and saw this. We drove to the farmers' market and saw that Costo was the only place that had gas. There were HUNDREDS of cars waiting for gas. According to the news reports we saw this morning, people all over Nashville had gotten up at 2:00AM thinking they could get some gas. They were met with enormous lines also.

Apparently this nonsense on Friday started with a rumor--a rumor that Nashville was going to run out of gas. People started to panic. Reactionary crazy people who didn't actually NEED gas created massive lines in order to top off their cars, causing undue inconvenience and suffering for those who actually need it. I am defining that any one who has less than a quarter of a tank needs gas. Many of the people in my neighborhood are on "E."

Unfortunately for Corey, he is nearly out of gas, so he is going to drive my car to work this week until things calm down. We're not going to drive to Paducah tomorrow so that we can save our gas. It stinks, but it is what it is. According to the news, everything should be back to normal by Tuesday or so.

Based on the reactions of the people around here, I pray that this never becomes a way of life. We will be in huge trouble if it does. We as a nation are clearly unprepared and unwilling to change our lives.

A Letter From One Mother to Another

Dear Lady Who Drives the KIA in the Car Lane at School,

I fucking hate you.

These are words that rarely pass my lips. It is a rare day that I ever say that I actually HATE someone. But I hate you.

I usually park behind you in the car lane at 3:05 and wait 20 minutes to pick up my daughter. Every day I sit behind you, and every day, I see you take your 10-ish month-old child out of his car seat and have him sit on your lap in the driver's seat. While you are smoking. For 20 or so minutes, I see you smoke 2-3 cigarettes while your child is on your lap, trying to grab the cigarette out of your hand that is lazily flicking ash (littering on school grounds) out the window. I thought there was a smoking ban in front of buildings?

The first time I saw you do this, I was certain that my eyes were playing tricks on me. There was no possible way that a mother would be blowing cigarette smoke on her child. I thought that maybe I had gone back in time and was back in 1972 when all of the dangers of smoking hadn't come out of the woodwork yet. Perhaps? No. I was here in 2008, watching you puff away and exhale on the back of your kid's head.

Why don't you just club your child and be done with it? Better yet, why don't you leave him on the side of the road like an unwanted pet? What's the difference? You are killing your child. Right Now. KILLING HIM. If you are so free and comfortable to do this in public, one can only imagine what you are doing to your kids in your home.

I realize that smoking is enjoyable to some, an addiction to others. Hell, you have no idea how much I enjoyed smoking. I loved it. Loved, loved LOVED it. But you know what? Even if I still smoked, I would never smoke in front of my kids. Not ever. Do you know why? BECAUSE IT HARMS THEM. I can't imagine playing any part in harming any child, much less my own.

Please know that you are not the first lady I have seen smoke in a car with her kids. Hardly. You are, however, the first asshole I have ever seen blowing smoke in the front seat of a car with a baby on her lap. I am pretty sure you are breaking some sort of law by smoking on school grounds. Don't you worry, I will be looking into that.

I truly hate you,

Misfit Hausfrau