Dear self: Welcome to the new millennium!

Those of you who know me well, know that the cell phone I have owned and operated for the past, oh, four and a half years or so-is a complete dinosaur, technologically speaking.  It is a (gasp)- FLIP phone. You know, one of those old-school, basic "flip me open, dial the numbers, and press the green phone icon to send the call" thingies. Nothing fancy. No texting. No video. No ring-tones. About 1/4 step up from the one Zack Morris debuted on Saved by the Bell on or around 1992. Basically, a get 'er done and flip 'er shut phone. Period.

Well, over the course of four years, she's definitely seen her day, and then some. She has been:
1). Dropped in a puddle of muddy water in the driveway (on more than one occasion.)
2). Slammed in the trunk of my car, cracking her screen and permanently damaging her leather case. (which has since been rendered useless, although for some odd reason I left it on, clinging for dear life.)
3). Used as a drumstick, drooled on, bitten, chewed on, sucked on, thrown, and lost for several days in the couch cushions, all by my gloriously "spirited" offspring. (also please note that said droolage eventually saturated the earpiece so badly that anyone who calls not only sounds like they are whispering at negative decibels, but doing so from one of Ariel's obscure treasure troves undah- da-sea. Truly, it is quite the fascinating auditory experience.)
4). Running on a 3-minute battery life for the past 2 years. Literally-- even when she charges in my car for hours, I am lucky to have an eight sentence conversation with anyone before she dies, completely unexpectedly. (usually & conveniently mid-juicy story from one of my girlfriends/sisters.)

Having said all of that...it didn't come as a surprise when Jeff recently suggested that we (finally) bite the bullet and embark on the "family plan" mission.  Yes folks, that's right....we've been married 5 years now and have a house a two children together--but separate cell phone accounts. (Although, those of you who know us well are aware of Jeff's sketchy Radio Shack "free phone plan" history which has inhibited any sort of desire to switch providers... but with only like 12 minutes a month on said "plan," and with the amount he now uses his phone for work...it was time to put his big-boy undies on and get a MAN-plan.)

And so, the quest began.

But alas, what were we to do? I had been on Verizon, and Jeff on Sprint, for several years now. Do we draw straws? Pick one? Just go nutty and choose something completely unconventional like AT & T or T-Mobile? Well, leave it to Jeff to do about 17 hours of research on topics such as:  coverage areas, 3G networks, hot spots, cold spots, Luke Wilson commercials, data plans, non-data plans, rollover minutes, unlimited vs. limited text plans, photo texting, 3G coverage maps, and so on. (That is one of the great things about my husband--when he does his homework on something, he does his homework.)

Which is why, a few days and several hours of research later, I didn't even question him for a second when he shut the laptop, stood up in the living room, and proclaimed "AT & T it is!"

Phew.
 
Now, onto phone options. Jeff's decision was relatively simple one, all things considered.  He chose the iPhone for himself, since it had every feature he could possibly need for work and pleasure (insert obligatory "that's what she said" comment here.)  And I was more than content with the slick, black, Samsung something-or-other phone that was the AT & T store's "FREE!" featured phone of the month.

Free? I thought. Sign me up!

And so that's what we did. Except, I turned into "that" massive pain-in-the-a$$ customer who demanded similar (and easy) phone numbers for the both of us... (check!), waived activation fees... (check!), and discounts on chargers & cases (check and check!) Oh, and one more thing? How about a free month of that cute little Navigation package? (check....)

Done.

And so here I sit, shiny new touch screen cell-phone in hand, completely amazed by the prospect of joining this texting revolution! (And yes, I do feel like an 87-year old woman actually admitting to this.)  I even perused ringtones tonight! (Do I go with something ghetto, like Young Money's "Bedrock" for when Jeff calls? Or something a little more adorable & predictable like Jason Mraz's "I'm Yours"??) The possibilities are truly endless...

All I know is that it's so incredibly nice to finally be able to text, and to receive texts....to actually be able to hear people when they call...to have a phone without a crack down the middle of the screen...a phone that is capable of pictures! and videos! and a battery life lasting more than 189 seconds!

2005 Verizon flip-something-or-other, we've had some great times...

But the time has come (and gone...and come and gone again) for me to bid you adieu for a newer, classier, shinier, more feature-full, more dependable, touch-screen, full qwerty keyboard, AT & T upgrade  :-)

Reason # 4,972 that she will hate me in her teenage years:

 

 

It's a good thing that she gets her adorable looks & girlish charm from me...because clearly she has inherited these bizarre sorts of behaviors from her Daddy :-)

Tellin' it like it is....

Aves:  "Momma, can you please shave your legs this morning when you shower?"

Me:  "You know that Mommy's neck and back have been hurting  a lot lately. It is hard to lean over in the shower and shave with a bad back.... And by the way, you're four years old!   Why does my leg hair bother you, ya big goof ball?!"  (*I go to wrap my arms around her to give her a massive bear hug & a tickle....)

Aves:  "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!" She squeals in the most high-pitched scream ever to fall on human ears. "Dadda, come save me, quick!"

Jeff:   (in the kitchen with Gav, unaware of what is going on) "...Save you from what, honey?"


Aves:   "From being attacked by this hairy, hairy beast of a Momma!!!!!!!!!"


And on that note....this hairy beast is off to attempt a shower & a leg shave. Which will be interesting terrifying, considering I still can't bend my neck to look down. Wish me luck folks.

Little Miss Independent...

So we were out to dinner tonight. And per usual, within 10 minutes of being seated and the whole lets-order-our-drinks-and-enjoy some-complimentary-bread part of the evening, Aves looks at me with those big hazel eyes, raised eyebrows and all, and points to her "nether" regions, proclaiming:
"Momma, I gotta go potty. BAD."
And so off we venture like 2 intrepid explorers, hoping to find the 'throom before it is "too late." (Side note, does anyone else with children realize that bathrooms are always located in the darkest, scariest, most non-obvious corners of restaurants when your child is doing the pee-pee dance and you need to find one immediately?)
Anyhoo, we finally stumble upon it, and as we enter, she peruses the aisle-o-stalls and quickly spots the stall which looks the most promising for her bladder-emptying experience.
"This one looks the cleanest, Momma," she states, pointing. (p.s. Looking for the cleanest, non-peed on toilet seat? That's my GIRL!)
As I go to follow into the stall behind her per our usual tradition, I sense a hesitation, and she stops dead in her tracks;
"Ummm, actually Mom?" she says, "I was thinking that since I'm four and a half now I am ready to go potty alone. You can wait out there, okay?"
Here I am, in the bathroom of Not Your Average Joe's, completely floored by the fact that my "little" girl - my baby- is expressing to me that she no longer requires my assistance with the potty.
I am hesitant at first, then sad immediately. As she closes the stall door behind her and locks it, I stammer
"Ok honey, go for it. What a big girl you are!" while choking back tears and trying desperately not to let her hear the quiver in my voice.
(I am brought back exactly 2 years ago, almost to the day. March of 2008. She was two and a half. "No more diapees," she plainly stated to us that morning in her high chair. "Big girl undies now." And that was that. Never an accident, never a wet bed. Instantly, she had made up her mind and just as instantly she was potty-trained.  No bribery, no charts, no stickers-- just a trip to Target and her choice of Dora or Tinkerbell undies in a size 2 Toddler. Seems like yesterday...)


As soon as I hear the click of the stall door lock, my sadness turns to panic-  
But how will she climb onto the potty ALONE? Without me lifting her?! And ewwwww! She's going to have to touch the yucky public POTTY to hold on now! And-- how in God's name will she reach the toilet paper roll from her perch atop the porcelain throne?! SHE'S ONLY FOUR! And...oh my goodness....will she remember to wipe front to back?? I usually wipe her!!! I'm not ready for this.....

But alas, my thoughts are interrupted by the familiar whooooshing sound of the industrial-strength toilet flush, and I peer through the crack in the door to see her working very hard to pull her leggings up from around her feet.


"Want Momma to help you with your pants?" I ask innocently.


She turns to see me peering in the stall door crack.

"Noooooooooo Mom! And stop looking at me in here, I would like privacy please!"

And with that, I wander over to the sink area to wait, almost in disbelief that (we) have both survived her first solo potty experience. Thirty seconds later, she emerges from the stall with her leggings successfully (and crookedly) pulled up, and the most prideful, victorious, beaming smile across her face that I've ever seen.


"See Momma?" she states as she retrieves her own soap to wash her hands, turns on the faucet herself, washes thoroughly, and even waves her hand in front of the automatic paper towel dispenser for a paper towel.  "I'm a big girlie now! I can do everything all by myself!"

I am so proud. So happy. So sad. So incredibly overwhelmed-- so many things all at once. But then again, I suppose these are the moments that I am to remind myself, this is what it's all about.  This is, in essence, is the whole point of parenthood. Preparing our children to survive without us. To wipe a bum alone in a sketchy public restroom unassisted. To pull their own pants up, crooked or not. To order their own "chicken fingers and green beans kids meal with a chocolate milk, please?" without the prompting or assistance of a Mom or Dad.


I guess I should hold on tight to these little moments now.  Because inevitably (and way too quickly for my liking,) she will soon be asking for much bigger scarier things:  A training wheel-less bike. Rollerblades. To sleep over a friend's house. A ride to the school dance. A cell phone. Car keys. And eventually, alone time with a cute 15-year old boy in the family room.

Yikes.

And so in conclusion, I suppose that the wiping of her bum alone, and the flushing of a toilet all by herself in a public restroom stall, are relatively benign milestones in the big scheme of things to come. So as long as she promises me that she'll slow down with the rest of this 'growing up' business...then flush away, Aves.

Flush away.

...And, he's back!

As much as I love & miss him dearly....there are certain things that are nice about the hubby being away on business for a few days. Namely:

1). Being able to sit on the couch (after the kiddos are in bed) performing an upper-lip wax, while simultaneously (and shamelessly, might I add,) polishing off 1/2 a ream of double-stuff Oreo cookies. (this visual is priceless, no?)

2).  Not worrying about the disgruntled, husbandly sighs of "I can't believe I'm missing Chuck for this garbage!"  as I indulge in such riveting shows as "16 & Pregnant" and TLC's "The Little Couple"...(while finishing up the remaining 1/2 ream of aforementioned cookies.)

3). Not having to change the toothbrush head from his to mine on our Sonicare every morning! (it's the little things, folks...)

4). Being able to sprawl out and have the bed (and all of it's 700-thread count sateen sheet goodness) ALL TO MYSELF for three whole nights- Heaven! As a side-note, nights like this truly make me ponder how we ever shared a TWIN sized bed in college...?!  (*Unless you are my Dad reading this, who probably assumed that his very Catholic, very chaste, very pure daughter only ever shared her college bed with her stuffed animals...Keep the dream alive, Dad. Keep it alive.)

However, on this note, I will also add that Murphy's Law of the husband-less household was in full swing this week as well. This was evident by the fact that I threw my back out AGAIN 12 hours after he left....the garbage had to be taken out (AND the barrels & recycling bins brought back in from the street--ewww, the gross jobs)...the toilet clogged twice (I had to PLUNGE my daughter's floating poop!)....the sink had to be Liquid Plumber-ed...and I heard strange noises on our deck every night around midnight that had me convinced that an escaped convict was attempting a B & E. (I slept with the phone clutched tight in my hands every night for this reason!)  I will say, I was very successful at trucking right along through all of this, (mostly with the help of pain meds for the back,) and managed to hold down the fort quite impressively over the past few days solo. Oh and also, I wasn't coup d'état-ed by my children, which was a definite concern slash possibility. (hey, I am outnumbered now, anything's possible!) And speaking of those kiddos? They were remarkably well-behaved and absolutely adorable every single day.  Literally. I might even venture to say that I sort of enjoyed our little time without Daddy...just the three of us  :-)

But alas, hubby has made it home safe & sound tonight, and so it's back to the same old, same old. Back to the routine. Back to the grind... And yes, even back to the covert, Oreo-less, mustache-waxing routine in the confines of el bano.

All worth it though, to have home safe & sound the man whose hugs still make my heart skip a beat-- and who makes 4 days apart feel like 4 years. Welcome home Jeffster!  :-)

Spring has (almost) sprung

...And what better way to commemorate its arrival than our first official trip to the park of 2010!  It was a blast. The weather was perfect (...you know you live in New England when 58 degrees with a brisk breeze constitutes "perfect") Clear blue skies and SUNSHINE! As a Momma, it was so incredibly touching to see, (for the first time ever,) my TWO kiddos happily swinging together, side-by-side. (and, incidentally, this was Gav's first time on the swings. He lah-lah-loved it!)  Just seeing the joy in Ava's face that she "finally has a brother to swing with, Momma!" made my heart overflow with the type of maternal elation that only moments like these can encapsulate. What an amazing feeling it is-- knowing that these two will have each other for the rest of their lives. That no matter where either of them ultimately ends up in this world, they will have an automatic best friend just a drive/plane ride/phone call away.  It's the little moments like this make this crazy, exhausting parenthood journey all worthwhile   :-)

Movin' on up....

Dear Graco infant carseat: It's amazing to look back and see how much we've been through together....and how many months you served us so incredibly well.  From the first hospital ride home, right up through his 8th month, you've provided a safe, secure, comfy home away from home for our little man:

...But when his feet began hanging off the bottom, (see above) just a few short weeks ago, we quickly realized it was time to move on. To something bigger. Something comfier. Something that would make our tiny little baby seem more like a little boy! (*sniff, sniff)
And so, without further ado....may I present to you: Gav's first time in his sweet new ride! (The Evenflo Triumph Deluxe, in case you were wondering.) Does he like it, you ask?
You tell us...