3 Kids and a Breakdown

What’s Been Going On

Trish — Wed, 16 May 2012 04:11:37 +0000

Hey, Mamas (and non-mamas)! How was your Mother’s Day? Mine was good! I started the day with breakfast in bed and yoga class. Got some beautiful handmade gifts from the girls, salted caramel fudge and a fancy pen from Big Daddy.

We went to Great Wolf Lodge. Where Jemima kept saying “This is SO MUCH fun!”; the big girls couldn’t get enough of the tsunami pool and water slides; Big Daddy went down something known as Howlin Tornado (I’m way to pussy for that. I stuck to the River Canyon Run) and a woman with an amazing body told me how great I looked in my swimsuit! She said it was supportive and my boobs looked good and it nipped in at my waist and was very sexy.

I went to see The Full Monty at our local theater with my friend, Wendy. It was a hoot! Loved it.

Wrote a little something for this.

Interviewed a local celebrity for an article I am writing for a new magazine on the island.

Working on a guest post.

Yoga, fudge, martinis, books and trash TV. (Feeding my body, mind and spirit)

Asleep by 10pm. Up at 6am.

Hold me.

I’m WORKING

Trish — Fri, 11 May 2012 02:46:27 +0000

I’m busy. And I’m sleep-deprived. And I’m sort of losing my mind (Totally. I’m totally losing my mind). I keep summoning people to me (and by ‘people’ I mean my husband and children) and then when they arrive (10 seconds later), I cannot for the life of me remember what I wanted to tell or ask them (to do for me). Jesus. I know I’m not 23, but I’m not 83 either.

I have a couple writing deadlines. (Yay, me!) (One of which is paying me actual cash money!) I also have 3 kids with full schedules of their own, a busy husband and not enough time in the day.

All this to say: I’ll see you early next week. Have a fantastic Mother’s Day. Don’t let those little shits ruin it for you.

Peace, out.

Photo Credit

Sleep’s for Pussies

Trish — Wed, 09 May 2012 14:49:12 +0000

I am convinced that this third child, this sweet, adorable little girl, who is much loved and adored, was put on this earth to torture me.

With sleep-deprivation.

Like all babies, it started when she was a newborn. Because all newborns need to eat every two hours. But my little angel? She was still waking up every 3 – 4 hours when she was 9 months old! I thought I would lose my mind. I had two other kids to get to school and take care of. I couldn’t grab a nap when the baby did.

And now? Well, honestly most of the time she goes right to sleep without a fight, sleeps 12 hours and I have to wake her up for preschool. But the other times? She wakes up in the middle of the night and is wide awake. She wants to eat. She wants to watch TV. She wants to play Dora games on my computer.

Me? I want to kill her. This goes on for hours, y’all. I will have her all settled on the couch with milk and peanut butter toast watching Backyardigans and will just start to drift off to sleep when she comes in to ask me to turn the channel. Or get her more milk. Or set her up on my laptop. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! It’s 3 AM, kid and I need some sleep.

(I don’t know. Instead of getting woken up every 30 – 45 minutes for 4 or 5 hours a night, maybe I should just get up. Make some coffee. Start my day. Maybe it’s worse to have the broken up sleep than the no sleep. What do you think?)

Usually when she does this, she falls asleep about 6 AM and I have to let her sleep through preschool. Because I don’t think her teacher would appreciate a tired, cranky girl at school. At least then I can crawl back into bed after the big girls get on the bus and get some sleep, too.

But today? Well, today she’s been up since 2 AM and shows no signs of slowing down. I think I’ll probably take her to school – if she’s still awake – and risk her falling apart so I can get a little sleep while she’s there.

Just add this to the things no one tells you about having kids. They like to party in the middle of the night for absolutely no reason. Wait. This couldn’t possibly be genetic, could it?

You see how cute she is? This is why we let her live. Also, I have plans to go to her house one day, mark all over her walls with crayons, dump crackers on the couch and wake her up every couple hours between midnight and 6 AM. Just for shits and giggles.

Don’t Let Me Get Me

Trish — Tue, 08 May 2012 14:30:27 +0000

Inspired by Nicole at Moments that Define Life and Listable Life Who this week asked: List 5 things that annoy you about yourself

1. I can’t stop eating Seriously. Can. Not. Stop. This drives me absolutely nuts. I’m not even going to elaborate on this. Enough said.

2. I can’t stop talking So annoying. I barely let anyone else get a word in edge wise. Particularly when I’ve been drinking. Which, let’s be honest, is all. the. time. When I haven’t been drinking, I still use far too many words to convey my message.

3. I stress out about having people over Why? Why can’t I just relax and enjoy the company of my friends? Instead I stress out about how dirty my house, how it’s in the middle of being painted and there aren’t any pictures, art of anything on the walls, the furniture is old, the rugs are stained, my TV is on the mantel along with 3 game systems, a medley of controllers and approximately 62 game cases and loose games. I worry about the menu and my cooking. I worry if I’ll have enough to eat and drink. I worry my kids will act like assholes and not only get in the way of my good time, but fuck up the company’s good time. I just worry, y’all. And it’s so stupid! Because? I have fun each and every time I have anyone over! I never feel that they looked around my house and thought, “Seriously, when is she going to finish painting and put some art up on the walls?” or “Who is she kidding with that old, faded couch and the rug with the jelly stains?” The food always good, the kids are always ok and I never run out of booze or wine. So why do I freak out every single time?!

4. I have no secrets I tell everything. Nothing is off limits. It’s not that this annoys me because I believe I’m telling too much or things that should be left private. No. This annoys me because I have no surprises. There are no 5 facts you don’t know about me. Because I have already told you everything there is to know. How sad is that? And boring. I love it when I find out a friend can play an instrument or spent a semester abroad. I’m also always thinking “How did you not tell me this before?!” How do people keep these little nuggets of interest to themselves? I don’t get that.

5. I can’t get out of my way I just can’t. I am my own worst enemy. I have gotten a lot better in the confidence department and I have really shut down that voice in my head that says I can’t do anything. But? I get scared, overwhelmed, intimidated, anxious, frustrated and completely stressed out.Which, I have found out happens to just about anyone. What most people do is keep on trucking. Me? I say “fuck it” and walk away. I have got to stop doing this! Time’s running out for me. If I’m going to achieve any of my goals, I’ve got to get the fuck out of my way.

Sweet Nothings

Trish — Mon, 07 May 2012 15:06:38 +0000

Before she went to bed last night, Zeta gave me this little love note:

In case you can’t see it, it reads ” Dear Mommy, I appreciate you staying home instead of having a lawer (sic) job (she doesn’t get that I don’t have a lawyer job because I never passed the bar, but that’s ok. The sentiment is the same). I love you. I think you are the most beutifull (sic) women (sic) on the planet. You are creative and sweet. I hope we can have a date soon! Your daughter Zeta”

Melts your heart doesn’t it? I know. I mean I took a picture of it and put it on my Facebook page and Instagram. That’s how much I love it. And she wasn’t even in trouble or wanting anything from me (except maybe to plan that date she referred to). When Big Daddy came back to bed I gushed to him about how sweet the letter was. Our conversation went like this:

Me: Big Daddy can you believe that note Z wrote me?! How sweet is that kid?

Big Daddy: Yes, she’s something. Such a sweet note to write.

Me: Do you think she meant it?

Big Daddy: Not a word

You’re a Shining Star

Trish — Fri, 04 May 2012 15:25:38 +0000

I have been listening to a lot of Earth, Wind & Fire this week. I love their music. It makes me want to dance and puts me in a good mood. And my girls like it too. They will drive me up a wall wanting me to put Katy Perry Radio on the Pandora and have to listen to that crap over and over (I mean everyone loves a little California Gurls, but after that it’s just not good, Katy. Sorry.). So imagine my delight when I chose the EW&F station, Shining Star came on and Zeta said, “Oh! I love this song! I haven’t heard it in, like, a year! Turn it up!” That’s a request the mama can oblige.

Happy Friday and turn it up!

A List of Lies

Trish — Thu, 03 May 2012 19:54:01 +0000

I’m linking up with Mama Kat’s writing prompt’s today.

A list of lies I consistently tell. Well, I do tend to lie quite a bit. But I’m lying to myself. Let’s see.

1. I will diet and exercise

2. I’m 5’9″ (I’ve been telling this lie for about 17 years. Before that I always said I was 5’8″. Then I was measured and found out I’m 5’8.5″ so I always round up)

3. I’m an only child

4. I don’t watch too much TV

5. I don’t drink too much

6. I’m a good cook

7. Santa Claus is watching you and if you don’t go to bed right now, he won’t bring you any toys on Christmas

8. I’ll get my shit together one day soon

9. I don’t talk to much

10. Everyone loves me

11. I’ll get this house in order

I could go on and on, but I think eleven is a nice, round number to leave off. Also? You don’t need to know all my lies.

A Cry for Help

Trish — Wed, 02 May 2012 15:15:49 +0000

OK, readers (and writers), I’m in need of a little editing help. I am looking to replace the word “fucked” in this sentence:

Took him back to my place and fucked him.

Because my vocabulary is so limited, and I really think the eff word works best in this situation, I’m having a little trouble. So won’t you please leave your suggestions in the comments?

Thanks and I’m looking forward to reading your ideas!

A Funny Thing Happened on the way to Benaroya Hall

Trish — Tue, 01 May 2012 15:15:17 +0000

So we are at Benaroya Hall to see David Sedaris. Of course we’re checking in to Facebook, tagging each other and taking pictures of our tickets and the hall to post on Facebook and Instagram. Of course. But, I’m also eavesdropping on the few people who are seated around us. (I like to look at people and make up stories about them and what they might be talking about. This drives Big Daddy nuts. It drives a lot of people nuts, actually, so I’ve stopped sharing my little stories with people. I just keep them in my head.)

Sorry, I got off topic there a wee bit. So two guys in their late 20′s or early 30′s are sitting in front of us. I’m not really intrigued by them and am not trying to listen in on their conversation or make up a story about them. But then an usher appears and says something about their tickets and reprinted tickets and how they’ve got to leave. At which point I’m intrigued and so is my date. We speculate about what the problem could be. Did they buy the tickets from some shady outfit? But if the tickets are fakes how did they get past the security (you know, that light wand thingy that scans the barcode on your ticket)?

By now the hall has started to fill up, it’s getting close to show time. Then two young women I would peg to be in their mid-early 20′s take those seats vacated by the men who were ousted and are giggling up a storm. They are holding up their tickets that read “reprinted” across them and I can’t take it! I gotta know. The date and I are all “What’s the story there?” I just can’t take it any longer. Sure it’s fun to make up a story but it’s so much better to get the actual scoop. So I lean in and tap the one closest to me on the shoulder and say, “Excuse me ladies, but what just happened?” The woman closet to me launches very animatedly into this incredible story.

Turns out one of the men was her ex-boyfriend. She had given him the tickets for Christmas. Then he dumped her. And did not return the tickets. Also? He dumped her after picking her up at the airport,taking her out to lunch, accepting gifts that she had brought him from her trip. He dumped her out of the blue. Right in her own living room (this was very upsetting to her. That he would dump her in her own home. But really is there a good place to be dumped?).

One of the first things she did was to call the ticket office and explain she had lost her tickets to David Sedaris while moving (Brillian, no?). They sent her the reprints, marked the originals as missing and here we are today. Great story, no? I loved how she and her friend took such joy in booting out the jerk and his buddy. And the gall of the fucker to show up for Sedaris. Also? He didn’t leave immediately. He spent some time speaking to the usher. I have no idea what was being said, as I couldn’t hear from my vantage point, but I’m certain he and his buddy were trying to find a way to stay. Jackass.

The girl who had been dumped was incredulous. She said they dated for over a year and up until the point he unceremoniously dumped her in her own living room, he’d never acted like a jerk in the least. I told her it some times takes men awhile to show their true colors and to consider herself lucky that he’d shown them after a year instead of say, 5 years into a marriage.

As far as I’m concerned this was the opening act for Sedaris. Very entertaining. As was David Sedaris. Dude’s hilarious. I can’t imagine what it would be like to walk out on stage with a sold out crowd clapping and cheering for you. Because you are reading your shit to them. Clapping and laughing. Wow.

So it was a great show, a fun evening and I had a great time. Stopped myself at two dirty martinis with blue cheese stuffed olives at 6:30pm and clearly I survived my surgery.

Me Talk Pretty One Day

Trish — Sun, 29 Apr 2012 18:59:20 +0000

I’m doing a little pre-op partying tonight. (Feel free to send flowers, cards or something from my Amazon wish list, or just hit the “donate” button on the left side of your computer screen.) Of course when I made these plans several months ago, I had no idea I’d be having surgery the next morning. Sadly, there won’t be too much actual partying as I’ve been advised not to arrive at the hospital still drunk or hungover. Apparently the booze won’t mix well with the anesthesia. Bummer.

So where am I going? To see David Sedaris! I’m pretty excited because he’s really funny and I like to laugh. I’m also really curious because I’m not sure how this sort of show goes. It’s not stand-up, exactly and it’s definitely not a book reading. I’m sure it’ll be hilarious.

And who am I going with? A guy I met on the Internet. Seriously. Isn’t this how life works now? It’s that god-damned Facebook. The shit is everywhere and (almost) everyone is on it and you end up friending friends of your real life friends. People you’ve never met before, but who you find interesting or funny or a lot like you. You know – cause you see each others comments on your friends pages because there is no privacy on Facebook. You dig each others shit so you send a message on FB and request their friendship. Then one day he asks you if you’d like to go see David Sedaris with him. And why not?

By now we’ve met in real life. We had lunch once and breakfast another time and we both attended the Field’s End Writers Conference yesterday. So we aren’t total strangers. In real life. On FB we’re total buds.

So while Big Daddy is dropping off Z at one friend’s house and Nita at another and making sure they have everything they need for school tomorrow and their tooth brushes and dealing with the Tasmanian Devil known as Jemima, I’ll be on a date. Seems fair, no?