The Bingham Diaries

Mickey D's

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 00:40:00 +0000

I never thought I'd get over my love affair with rain.

It was such a novelty to me,

That I would crack open all the windows,

Close the blinds,

Make some popcorn,

And snuggle under the blankets watching old movies.

But last night,

When it started raining,

And continued raining through, um, well,

NOW,

I think I decided to get over it.

The windows are shut.

No movies were watched.

After the twelfth round of fights,

I put those shortlings to work.

I said, "If you finish your chores, we'll go play at McDonald's."

So off they went,

Wiping down doorknobs,

And scrubbing the bathrooms,

And when we were done,

We headed out into the rain,

And drove to the "M" place.

When we got inside,

There were approximately 10,000 other children there.

Because on rainy days such as these,

No one wants to be stuck inside their own house,

Listening to their own children,

Kick and scream and punch and pitch fits.

So the DadGuy and I,

Sat down at a little corner table,

And unleashed the shortlings.

When they were gone,

Another mother looked over at us and said,

"Couldn't take it anymore either?"

Then we laughed.

McDonalds.

Where desperate parents go.

---

I'm giving away a $25 gift certificate to Ecostore USA here.

Multilingual

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 18:43:00 +0000

Thaddeus attends a French something or other school. Basically, this means that he gets weekly French lessons. Which means that he comes home and tries to explain words to me and I just don't get it.

Blayne and Daniel are convinced they speak Spanish because, after all, they watch Diego and he speaks Spanish. At least when they say things to me, I usually know what they mean. One of the perks that comes from growing up in Arizona.

Taylor thinks she speaks English. Let me rephrase that. Taylor COMMANDS in English. It's the funniest thing I've ever seen or heard. First off, because she's tiny and doesn't know it. Secondly, because Daniel is putty in her hands. He does whatever she says, when she says it. Thirdly, she is quite the tattle tale. When she's not busy stealing treats from the pantry, she's telling me what all those other naughty kids are doing. She even puts her hand on her hip, points, and leans forward intensely while babbling vehemently in broken English. Totally cute AND funny.

Of course, of all the people in this house, the only person that truly knows a second language is the DadGuy. Sadly, Russian sounds funny so my kids think he's making fun of the way they talk. I'd like to say he's not, but I'm not entirely convinced of this myself.

Other languages we think we speak are Creole (thank you neighbor boy) and whichever language it is that they speak in Afghanistan (thank you other neighbor boy.)

Of course, this has nothing to do with me, nothing whatsoever.

Except for that whole part where they try to talk to me and I have no idea what they're saying, so they get all frustrated and angry and throw themselves on the floor because if I would just use my listening ears I would know what they were saying...

I love being a mom.

The Requisite Halloween Post... so it's a little late, shoot me.

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 02:33:00 +0000

My Boyfriend's Back

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 01:20:00 +0000

The big news of the day is that my computer is back! Turns out, one of my friends IS married to a computer genius, and he was able to diagnose and fix the problem for us. I am still waiting on one part, but the important thing is it's back! And it works! And I didn't lose anything! Yay!

My files are a little bit jumbled up though, so I will have to sort through them and reorganize them. But they're THERE.

In other news, we've gone from needing hoodies to needing coats. I even got out our box of hats and gloves today. I think my kids are so cute in their winter gear.

The other person I think is so cute in their winter gear is the DadGuy. He has a military style jacket that transforms him from ho-hum to hotness. It's magical. And when he slips it on, I can't help but smile. It's so amazing what a piece of clothing can do for a person.

Of course, his crooked smile helps too...

Learning Curve

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 03:55:00 +0000

I met with Thaddeus' teacher on Tuesday for a parent-teacher conference. I was a little worried about what she might say, because Tad isn't exactly on level playing ground when it comes to Kindergarten. It isn't level because unlike a lot of his classmates, this is the first time Thaddeus has ever been in any kind of school setting.

Before this year, I had never taken part of any kind of preschool. Co-op or otherwise.

I don't do playdates, or playgroups, or mommy-and-me classes, or kindermusik.

But what about their social skills? They have each other don't they? is my retort.

But how will they learn to listen? By listening to mommy, is what I say next.

When it comes to raising children, I'm a less-is-more, unstructured learning type of parent.

I think kids need to go outside. They need to dig for worms with my good spoons. They need to listen to the wind. They need to learn their shapes by finding them all around us, to learn to tell stories using the pictures in the clouds.

Yes, when it comes to raising children, I have a no-nonsense, let them fall down kind of attitude...

I walked into the room, and sat across from the teacher.

She pulled out her notes.

"Well, when we first started, Thaddeus only knew 6 letters, and no letter sounds..."

I inspected his test results.

"and then when we tested him last week, he knew 22 letters, and 20 letter sounds.... That's a great improvement!"

She continued on telling me how much fun he was in class. What a hard worker he was. How focused he could be. She was impressed with his math capabilities, and she loves his good attitude.

Page after page, she showed me how much progress Tad had made over the last few weeks.

I walked away, proud of my boy. Glad that he liked school. Grateful for a teacher that understands him.

When I got home, I told him how great he was, how smart and kind and thoughtful.

Then we all put on our jackets, and went outside to look for bugs.

THAT is my kind of preschool.

Things that are Making Me Happy

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 23:35:00 +0000

1. Ikea As-Is!

I don't know if I've sung my praises for the Ikea As-Is section before, but I feel like I must do so now. I was there this very morning and scored a very nice bookcase in perfect condition for half the original price. I snatched it right up and got the stink eye from another lady who then had to ask me if I realized how great a find that was. Yes, stinky eye lady, I KNOW.

2. Unpacked!

I am OFFICIALLY all the way unpacked. Right after I finagled that fabulous bookcase into my office, I unpacked the remaining few boxes that I had. This means that....

3. My Office is Set!

I'm done! I have a work space, a computer space, I have a craft closet, and my books are organized by genre, then alphabetically by author. *cough*dorkalert*cough* Sigh. It's perfectly lovely. This also means that...

4. Scrapbooking!

Scrapbooking is back. I've taken, oh, about a year and a half off because I didn't have a spot to do it in the last house. But NOW! I have an office with a big old table all to myself and I can SHUT THE DOOR! AND LOCK IT! Which means I won't have to clean everything up all the time because I can just lock my kids out of the room! I won't have to worry about certain little girls using my good glue and expensive stickers and papers on her face! Score!

Those are the things that are making me so happy right now. I completely realize how dorky I am due to the fact that everything up there has to do with me having an office. {shrug} EMBRACE THE DORKINESS... EMBRACE IT.

P.S. Nominations for the 2009 Weblog Awards are open. I tell you this because last year, I got my trash kicked and it was embarassing. I know that people say "it's an honor just to be nominated," but those people are the ones that WON. Trust me. Anyways, feel free to nominate my blog. Or yours. But mostly mine. kthx.

In a Nutshell

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 23:31:00 +0000

Every now and then it's just so easy to use bullet points to sum up my life... Today is one of those days.

*We had Halloween. It was great. We went trick or treating 3 times and have unbelievable amounts of candy. In turn, any child that rang our doorbell received gobs and gobs of goodies.

*Halloween costuming was as follows: Taylor - Supergirl, Daniel - G.I. Joe, Blayne - started out as a Sock Hop Girl and ended up as a Pretty Pink Princess, Thaddeus - Red Power Ranger.

*DadGuy is home! That should actually be the first point. He. Is. Home. And it is ever so nice. He brought me a new camera, so I was able to take pictures of us in our Halloween gloriousness. Unfortunately, the computer is still dead so I can't share them yet.

*The computer. I'm at a loss. If I was still in good ole' Arizona, I'd know exactly who to call about this mess. I'd even be able to trade hair services for computer repair. Here? Pshh. I have NO CLUE who to ask. I don't even know that any of my friends husbands do computer stuff. In fact, I'm going to say that for the most part, I have no idea what line of work they're in at all. I could be friends with the wife of a computer genius and not know it. BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR. PERSONAL MISUSE.

*Luckily, I have a backup of all the files and photos this time.

*I got an email awhile ago asking about my thoughts on feminism. I'm still formulating my answer. Because I don't think my answer is going to fit into the preconceived box that today's feminist woman has built for herself. Yes, I said it. You put yourselves in a box and good luck climbing out of that one by yourself.

*There is no school tomorrow. Or Tuesday. It's parent-teacher conference time. I really should call someone and see if they'd watch the hooligans for a bit so that I can go alone. I focus lots better when I don't have to worry about someone running with scissors or gluing their eyes shut.

*It's NOVEMBER. Thanksgiving is next. Who's coming to dinner? Serious inquires only. I make a mean turkey. Don't expect pie. Well, maybe a pie or two. You will enjoy my bread pudding. IT'S DELICIOUS.

*Taylor is still limping. We went to the doctor, and she said if she was still limping on Monday, then we'd do x-rays. It's 7:00 pm Sunday night. I think its safe to say that we'll be doing x-rays tomorrow.

*We're going to use this point to fade to black.

*End scene.

It goes by so quickly

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 01:00:00 +0000

We're on the tail end of the sick train. On the one hand, no more throwing up. On the other hand, no more 5 hour naps.

I really miss naps.

Other things I realize I've missed of late.

Diaper bags. Guys, I no longer carry a ginorm diaper bag with me wherever I go. I also don't have extra clothes in the back of the car, a bottle warmer in the glove compartment, emergency ziploc bags, or a *gasp* stroller.

The back of my car? Has a yoga mat and free weights.

My purse? Has my wallet, keys, a stray toy or two, and if I remember to put it in, a diaper.

When did I get to the point in my life where diapers were an optional carrying item?

I have full fledged KIDS.

Next thing I know, they'll be graduating college and having their own babies.

I guess those people that said "it goes by so quickly" actually knew what they were talking about.

I'm too exhausted from de-germing to think of a title. What?

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 23:14:00 +0000

Thaddeus got sent home from school today.

He wasn't feeling well, so he went to the nurse.

She took his temperature.

I had to come get him.

He's pretty miserable.

Of course, this means that we didn't get it from him.

Because this makes the first people to get it,

THE BABIES.

(And yes, I completely refer to my youngest children as my babies)

Daniel and Taylor were the first casualties.

They don't go anywhere

EXCEPT

The church nursery.

Well, Danny has preschool, but the exposure timing of 4-7 days = church

SO.

LR1 parents, consider yourselves warned.

(Do you love that I talk to them on my blog? THEY TOTALLY READ MY BLOG.)

(Which is totally awesome/horrifying.)

Blessings in Disguise

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 13:51:00 +0000

I woke up to a screaming Daniel. Clutching his ear, high fever, clammy hands. In the time it took for me to run downstairs to get the numbing antibiotic drops for his ear and back up, his ear drum had ruptured. There was blood and pus all over my pillows and sheets.

I am grateful for plastic matress covers.

Taylor was feverish. She was also limping. I looked at her foot. No splinters, no bruising, no obvious injury. She was tired and had to be carried down the stairs.

I am grateful for a svelte toddler.

Blayne had a fever as well. And her throat hurts. And her legs. And her head, her arms, her knees, and her neck.

I am grateful that she's able to tell me what is wrong and where.

Thaddeus was completely unaffected. He was dressed and ready for school. He had to debate between wearing his Transformers jacket with no hood and carrying an umbrella OR just wearing the blue jacket with a hood.

I am grateful for his love of school and his clearly superior immune system.

I had to do all of the laundry. I can't decide if we have the flu or not. I can't decide if I'm paranoid because of the overzealous news coverage, or if it's a mother's intuition. Either way, I'm going to wash every shirt, pant, blanket, stuffed toy, and towel in this house.

I am grateful for the sanitize setting on my washing machine.

It is pouring outside.

I'm grateful that at least on this sick day, it's raining, so that I don't have to convince people to lay around. Rainy days like this are not for outside play. I'm grateful that it's so cold when they try to sneak outside that they run back in and lay on the couch under piles of blankets and rest like I told them to do in the first place.

DadGuy calls to tell me his plane has landed. He is safe in Arizona.

I am grateful for his timing because I needed to talk to a grown up.

I make a shopping list. Saltines. 7up. Juice. Milk. Dryer sheets. Comet. Chicken noodle soup. Tylenol. Motrin. I look at the clock. I can't make it to the store and back before the school bus arrives. I look down at myself. I jump in the shower.

I am grateful for my insanely fast getting ready skills.

We meet the school bus. We pick up Tad. He makes us laugh. We discuss the errands we are about to go on. Pharmacy. BJ's. Home. Maybe a quick stop at the beauty supply because mommy is out of monomer. But JUST MOMMY will go in, because it's a super fast trip. Okay? Okay.

I am grateful for the DVD Player in my car.

We go to the Pharmacy. Tad reads the sign. C-V-S. We go inside and head to the pain relief row. I look at the boxes. How many pills per dose divided by four shortlings, hmmm...

I am grateful for the economy size, generic brand sale.

We head to our next stop, the Beauty Supply. I check the clock before I go. I tell my kids to start counting. If I'm not out in 30 seconds, they'll get a treat at the next place. They shout "GO!" I run in and grab exactly what I need, and book it back to the car. I didn't make it in under 30 seconds. Dang.

I am grateful for cheerful dispositions.

We head to our last stop of the evening. The rain has let up a bit, and Taylor is hot again. We forgo our jackets and head towards the store. As we reach the curb and are about to enter, she throws up. All over the front of my shirt. All over the front of hers. I turn around and the five of us head back to the car. I open the doors. I peel off her shirt. I dump out the medicine out of the CVS bag and put her shirt in there. I look around the parking lot. It is empty. I pull off my shirt. I put my jacket on. I zip it up. I zip up Taylor in hers. I tie the bag with the vomit covered shirts and throw it in the back of the car. I grab my purse and my kids hands. We head back inside. I am not going home without everything on my list.

I am grateful that I have no shame.

We pick up our things, and grab some caramel apples. I did promise a treat. We get home just as it starts raining hard. For dinner, we have ramen noodle soup, caramel apples, and saltine crackers.

I am grateful that my children are young and think ramen noodle is a gourmet meal.

I switch the laundry again. We have showers. We take our medicine. I think the day is almost done. Taylor throws up again.

I am grateful for scotch guarding my couch and for baby wipes.

We finally get into bed. We say our prayers. We close our eyes. In moments, all four shortlings are sleeping peacefully.

I am grateful for those little blessings in disguise.

The Engagement, part 6

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 00:00:00 +0000

New here? Missed some of the story? Go here to start at the beginning.

-- ♥ --

Of course, I was the last person to get on the plane. The last person by a long shot, the last person for whom the flight was delayed. The last person that walked all the way to the back to try and finagle her carry on into the overhead compartment. The last person that then had to walk all the way back up to the front of the airplane and ever so politely climb over two other people to get to her window seat.

As if I wasn't self concious enough about going to meet DadGuy, I had to endure the death glares and eye rolls of *very important people* who were late for *very important things.

The plane took off. I closed my eyes. I have never been a great traveler. I get a nervous tummy and headaches and have to really focus on not losing my cookies. I had just about gotten used to the lull of the airplane when the captain announced it was time to begin our descent.

I looked at my watch. It had only been 45 minutes! This was happening too fast. I closed my eyes again. Breathe. Focus. Everything is going to be okay...

We landed and I waited for everyone to leave the plane before walking all the way to the back to get my luggage.

I smiled and nodded at the attendants as they bid me good day. I said thank you and began walking down the hall.

When I got to the gate, I had no idea which way to go. I looked to my right and saw a herd of people. I decided to follow them.

I pulled out my cell phone as I walked through the terminal. I turned it on to check my messages. There were none. I snapped the phone shut, and stuffed it back into my purse, tugging the zipper closed. When I looked up again, he was there.

DadGuy was waiting for me. On his face was the biggest smile I've ever seen. I hurried to him.

"Hey," I sighed.

"Hey hon," he answered.

DadGuy hugged me with one arm, and took my suitcase with the other. He leaned over and kissed my forehead.

"So, you're here."

"Yep. I'm here."

"How was the plane ride?"

I rolled my eyes, "Don't ask."

He laughed as he looked down at my shoes. "Those aren't exactly the hiking shoes I told your mom you should wear..."

I looked at my brown leather heels. "I brought some. They're in my bag."

"Okay... What did you do to your hair?"

Again, I rolled my eyes. "My mom said I shouldn't meet your grandma with pink stripes in my hair."

DadGuy paused. "Um, my grandma is dead."

"Oh, that's... umm... huh."

I always knew when to speak eloquently.

He laughed and assured me it was fine. He told me that it was probably better that I didn't have hot pink hair when I met his family anyways, not that he minded.

"I love not knowing if I'm dating a redhead or a blonde or a punkrocker or what." His eyes sparkled as he teased me about my many shades of hair.

I snuggled in closer as we walked, following his lead.

We headed into a parking structure when I heard the familiar beep of his truck alarm.

Big Red was there, in all her glory, waiting for us.

"Your truck is here? How did that happen?"

"I drove up here yesterday. Made it in 10 hours."

He was so impressed with himself.

I couldn't believe it. Any time I'd driven to Utah with my family it had taken at least 12 hours, usually closer to 14.

"Wow, how fast were you going?"

He laughed again and opened my door.

"Just get in."

I climbed in while he opened the bed lid to put my suitcase in the back.

I was buckling my seatbelt when he jumped in and started the engine.

"What are you doing over there? Come sit by me," DadGuy commanded and I slid over to the middle.

He put his arm around me, looked into my eyes and asked, "Are you ready?"

I smiled and kissed him. That was all the answer he needed.

DadGuy pulled out of the parking space and we were on our way.

After awhile, DadGuy started pointing out various landmarks.

"This is the town I was born in," and "That used to be a hospital."

He showed me a few more places that were special to him, then he started winding up a mountain road. After a few turns, he stopped the car.

"I have to show you something. You might want to change shoes now."

He brought my suitcase to me. I threw open the lid, forgetting that it had been searched. A pair of underwear fell to the ground. Once again, I was mortified.

DadGuy picked them up with a smile, "Nice job with the packing."

I launched into an explanation about the security guards and how I really pack and underwire bras. DadGuy laughed.

"Just put your shoes on."

I put them on as quickly as I could before hopping out of the truck. It was freezing in the mountains, and my thin Arizona blood was not handling it well. My teeth started chattering in an instant.

DadGuy laughed, again, and offered to give me his coat.

I accepted, promptly using the hood and zipping it to my chin.

He took my hand and led me up a trail.

We walked all the way to the top of the mountain. We crawled on to a boulder and took in the scene below.

DadGuy turned to me and asked, "So, what happened with your bra?" and I filled him in on the whole story.

He laughed again, put his arm around me and sighed contentedly.

We sat.

And sat.

And sat.

Until I had had enough of the sitting.

"So, um, is there, like, a reason I'm in Utah right now?"

"I knew you knew something was up. Did your mom tell you?"

"Tell me what? Why I was coming here? No. She didn't."

"Yeah right. I knew she gave it away when you told me she said you couldn't meet my grandma with 'pink stripes' in your hair."

"So I AM meeting your grandma."

"No! Like I told you, she's dead. She's been dead a long time. And I like your hair," he winked.

"Thanks."

He turned back to look at the landscape below. He was just sitting there, daydreaming.

I tried to focus on the majestic view, but I was cold. I was thoroughly unprepared for an afternoon atop a snow capped mountain.

"Um, I really hate to say it, but I'm FREEZING. Are we going back to the truck soon?"

I stood, blowing into my hands.

"Do you know why I brought you here?"

I didn't answer.

"Seriously, do you know why? It's because this is where I'm from. This is where I was BORN. My life started here." DadGuy reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. "And because this is where my life started, this is where I want to start my life with you." He gestured towards all the land below, "I've climbed as high as I can. I can't get any higher without you. MomBabe, will you marry me?" He opened the box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring. "You know, I'd get on my knee but I'd probably fall off the mountain..."

Now it was my turn to laugh.

I pulled DadGuy to his feet, cupped his face in my frozen hands, and said "Yes. I will. Now can we get down?"

He leaned in for a quick kiss, "As soon as we put this ring on you."

He took my hand in his and placed the ring on my finger. It was huge. I started laughing. DadGuy was dumbfounded.

"I don't understand, I took one of the rings I've seen you wear and took that in for sizing! It shouldn't fit like that."

"What one did you take?"

"The silver one."

"Yeah... I wear that one on my thumb. Sorry."

"Well. You can't have it right now then. I don't need it falling off your hand." He took back the ring and put it in the box. Then he took my hand and led me back down the trail.

As soon as we were on flat ground, DadGuy spun around and went down on one knee.

"I know I already asked you, but I wasn't on my knee. I gotta do this right." He brought the box back out. "Okay, NOW, will you marry me?"

I offered him my left hand.

"Just give me the ring."

Experiments

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 19:45:00 +0000

I have this friend.

Heather.

She and I are having a little social "experiment" if you will.

If I'm right (I AM right) the next 30 days should be interesting.

If she's right, well....

Either way, you should probably check her out.

And if you happen to correctly guess WHAT our little experiment is all about, I'll send you a little something something.

Little Things That Mean the Most

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 23:37:00 +0000

Every afternoon, a bit before 3:30, we step out the door and head over to the bus stop to meet our most favorite kindergartener.

Every day, we pause to examine the neighbor's flowers. And their cat. And their holiday decorations. And that leaf right there. It just showed up and it simply MUST be the most beautiful and fall-iest leaf that ever there was.

Every day, we run and skip and even meander over to that coveted piece of grass.

We hold hands, making a human trail of Bingham's, and giggle our way across the street.

Every day, we go to that certain little spot that has the power and ability to make a big Big BIG bus STOP.

We climb the trees, and roll down the hills until we hear the rumbling of its engine.

We race to our spots, with smiles on our faces, and watch as the yellow school bus slowly turns the corner.

The driver brakes, and pulls open the doors.

The moment we spy him on the steps, it's a celebration.

We've been reunited with our long lost brother and we have to shout it to the world.

"Thaddeus!"

"He's Home!"

"We missed you!"

Every day, a little after 3:30, my babes are reunited.

And every day, I think it just doesn't get any better than this.

The Engagement, part five

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 09:00:00 +0000

if you're new, or want to catch up, links to the entire story can be found here.

****

I hardly slept that night. I was nervous, and excited, but wanted to play cool.

In the morning, my mom took me to the airport.

"Now remember, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"I know Mom. I'll be fine. Thanks. I'll see you later."

I took my bag out of the car and headed into the airport terminal.

I had to be there a minimum of two hours early. It had been a little over a month since the September 11 attacks. Security was tight.

I verified who I was and picked up my boarding pass.

Then I made my way over to the long security line.

Finally it was my turn to go through the metal detectors.

Beep! Beep!

I took out all my earrings, removed any other jewelry I could think of and tried to pass through again.

Beep. Beep.

The other passengers were agitated by me. I couldn't think of what else it could be. My pockets were empty. I was shoeless. There wasn't a whole lot else that I could remove.

I was taken to another room for closer inspection.

A security woman pulled out a wand and began to run it along my body. She began scanning me at the bottom right foot. She moved up my leg, then towards my torso. The wand was chest high, Beep. Beep. She took a step back and looked at me. Then she repeated the scan starting on my bottom left side. As soon as that wand was chest height, Beep. Beep.

The guard asked me if I was hiding something in my bra.

I was dumbfounded.

Another guard had come to investigate.

"Miss? Are you wearing an underwire bra?"

My cheeks went red. Every small chested girl knows that padding and underwire are her friends.

"Yes," I answered.

Both security guards laughed. They said I was free to go.

I put my shoes back on, and grabbed my suitcase. The whole underwire fiasco had taken a long time and I was going to miss my flight if I didn't hurry.

I finally got to my boarding gate, and the place was desereted.

I went up to the counter.

"Yes, I'm MomBabe. I need to check in?" I offered up my driver's license and boarding pass. The girl scanned my ticket.

"Oh, yes. May I have your bag?"

"My bag? It's a carry on."

"Yes, I know. Due to new security measures, we have to inspect passenger bags."

"Yeah, but I already went through that. My bag went through that little machine thing and it was fine."

"Miss, we need to check your bag. It will only take a few minutes."

I handed it over. The check in girl passed it to another security guy who threw my suitcase onto a table.

He tore open the zipper and ripped my bag apart. He took each and every item out of my suitcase and put it on display. Horrified, I watched as this man dumped my underwear out and began rifling through it. Suddenly, the inspection ended and my once delicately packed suitcase had its contents thrown back in and zipped up.

He brought my bag back, and the check in girl sweetly smiled and finally allowed me to get on the plane.

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 23:46:00 +0000

My life is in a funk right now. I can't explain it, and there's nothing truly "wrong" per say, but I feel off. You know? It's just one of those months when one thing right after another piles up and then suddenly, it's all too much.

The kicker is that I think I'm handling it, and then someone asks me a perfectly innocent question and I respond with way too much information.

Something as simple as, "Hey, are you coming out with us Friday?"

And without even thinking about it, I open my mouth and WORDS and STATEMENTS and TOO MUCH PRIVATE INFORMATION starts gushing out. Instead of saying, "No, I can't." I say;

"No. I can't... My renters totally bailed and they didn't tell us until after they'd moved out, but we'd already made that mortgage payment, and you know how everything's all connected? So that threw off THIS mortgage and a couple other things and I just got another bill from my hysterectomy back in January, and no matter what I do, I can't lose any weight right now which is really really annoying and Halloween is coming and And AND...."

And I can't STOP! The words just keep coming out of my mouth until I notice that the person is just staring at me like a full on crazy person because HELLO! I'M OUT OF MY EVER LOVING MIND. Then I start in on that whole nervous laughter thing. You know the one,

"Heh. heh. Just kidding. We're totally not broke! HA! That would like, SUCK for us, but GOOD THING, I was JUST JOKING. HA. HA. HA."

And then I get into my car and drive away muttering to myself like a crazy person. It is GOOD TIMES over here. The absolute goodiest.

How's your Tuesday going?

The Engagement, part four

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 19:00:00 +0000

This is the latest in the series. If you're new here, you probably should start at the beginning.

*****

I stared at Jill, and she stared back. "He did it!"

We launched into plausible causes.

"He's going to marry you. You're going to come back engaged," she said.

"Maybe not," I countered. "He did say he wanted to teach me how to snowboard."

"Yeah, like a guy's going to take the time to arrange your work schedule, buy you a plane ticket, and talk to. your. mom. so he can take you snowboarding."

We hashed out a few different theories and finally settled on two. Best case scenario, I come home engaged, worst case, I learn to snowboard.

When the last of the nights' client's were finished, Jillian picked up my hand.

"Let me do your nails."

"What?"

"Your nails. You need a fill."

I looked at my hands. If I was going to be getting a ring, I wanted it on a pretty finger.

"Alright, but do it fast. I still have to go to my mom's and then I have to go home and pack."

An hour later, I was pulling in to my parent's driveway. I went in through the kitchen door. The dogs went crazy.

"MomBabe? Is that you?" My mom came around the corner. She looked me up and down. "Oh!" she cried, "What are we going to do with your hair?"

I smiled. She always preferred the blonde version of me.

"Well. First things first. We need to get that pink out of your hair. You cannot be meeting Troy's grandmother with pink stripes in your hair!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, I knew that I was going to come home with a ring.

My dad heard us talking and he came around the corner to join in.

"Just remember, no matter what happens, you have your free agency. You don't have to do anything. Your mother and I can come pick you up. You don't have to do anything."

My dad handed me an envelope.

Inside was a one way ticket to Salt Lake City, Utah.

A few hours and one more natural hair color later, I went home to pack.

Realizations

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Sat, 17 Oct 2009 19:32:00 +0000

The school situation has been taken care of. I repeat, the school situation has been taken care of.

I so nicely talked to the following individuals.

Tad's teacher
the principal
the bus driver
the bus helper

The list does not include the various people at the transportation and the school's office. And I get major points for nicely, tactfully, and thoroughly making my point without yelling, screaming, and hanging up/spitting on anyone.

Thaddeus has a new seat on the bus, and he has a new seat mate.

I did not talk to the kid because if the situation was reversed, and somebody's mother confronted my child, I'd be mad and defensive, which is the opposite of productive. I know that the kid was called into the principals office, and that his parents were called in as well. I feel like that is sufficient, and whether this is his first or fifth offense, it's been noted.

As for Thaddeus, he has promptly forgotten all about this and has merrily gone on his way. I'm very grateful that kids are so resilient and forgetful.

In our non-punching news, I've discovered that I absolutely loathe decorating my house. Sure, it's cute for a few days, maybe a week. But now I have all these Halloween decorations up and they are driving me CRAZY. I don't want to look at them anymore. I also get this way at Christmas. By the time Christmas rolls around, I'm ready to tear down the tree.

So, yeah. I'm never going to buy any interior decor stuff ever again.

My kids are so lucky.

P.S. There's a Charlie and Lola DVD giveaway going on over here. You should enter. It's a super cute show.

Buses and Bullies

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 23:46:00 +0000

I AM sick. I feel like saying, "Ha! Take that!" because I just love being right about things like this except for that whole part where I feel like death is slowly creeping up on me.

In other even less exciting news, my computer decided to play dead again. Obviously, he hates me. (Yes, my computer is a he. He's also a scorpio.) In fact, I only have computer access right now because I begged DadGuy to please bring his laptop home because I haven't emailed or tweeted or blogged in 2 days and everyone will think I've died... okay, maybe not everyone, but my mom would call me. So would Heather. And if nothing else I at least have to tell them that I'm not dead, just cut off from the wonderful world of make believe that is my online life.

*I'm also not sure that anything I say at this time is coherent, but I'm also drugged enough to not really care.*

Yes, the only REAL ACTUAL thing that has happened of late is that Thaddeus was some kids punching bag on the school bus this afternoon.

Yep, you read that right.

A "big kid" punched and slapped my kindergartener today, and I kid you not, he had welts on his face when he got home.

And me, horrible mother that I am, didn't notice until we had crossed the street and the bus was driving away to its next stop.

I interoggated Tad when we got home and out of the rain, and I guess that this kid had gotten in trouble, so they made him switch seats and sat him next to Tad. He didn't like it, got mad, and took it out on my son. I asked Tad what the bus helper was doing and he said she was "just busy."

Folks, HELL is being raised.

I think I'm sick. Maybe. Probably not, but, you know...

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 00:15:00 +0000

I have an itchy-burny chest, makes your head hurt, can't see straight cough sort of a thing.

It's annoying.

It's so annoying, that I couldn't even sleep last night because I kept waking myself up.

I even woke up the DadGuy.

You know it's a REAL cough when it wakes up the person next to you.

And yet....

I can't decide if I think it's worthy of a $25 copay or not.

I mean, what if it's just a cold?

What if I'm a big fat idiot and I go see the doctor and he's all "You're such a pansy. Get out of my office."

I mean, what if I'm completely over-reacting?

What would I even say when I make the appointment?

"Hello. Yes, I'd like to see Dr. X. What? Oh, nature of visit? I might be dying.... I think. I don't know. I mean, I feel okay like THIS SECOND, but as soon as I hang up I'll start dying again. Does he treat this type of thing often? I mean, I guess it's a cough..."

It's quite the conundrum.

The Engagement, part three

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 22:00:00 +0000

This is the latest installment of our love story. For the rest of the story, click here.

*****

I couldn't get rid of that love struck expression. I tried not to smile with sickening sweetness, but I was just so happy. He loved me! and everything was oh so perfect.

That Thursday, I was at work and had a few minutes before my next client would show up, so I decided to give him a call.

"Hey."

"Hi honey." He had stopped using my first name entirely. It was always honey, or love. But never my given name.

"Whatcha doing?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm just headed over to the Maytag store to get a part for my mom."

"What? For what?"

"Her fridge isn't working."

"Oh. You can't get it at Home Depot or Lowes or something?"

"No. It's a specialty part. We have to go all the way over to Scottsdale 'cause the store here in Chandler didn't have it in stock."

Then I heard another voice. A woman's voice.

"Oh. That's weird. So... who's with you?" Jealousy had already reared it's ugly head, but Reason was trying to contain it.

"Oh, umm. It's nobody."

I heard it again. That muffled voice. Most definitely belonging to a girl.

"DadGuy. I hear them. Who is with you?"

"Um, well, actually, it's my mom."

"Hi!"

"And my brother..."

"Hi."

"Oh. You're all going to the Maytag store?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I don't know. That's kinda weird... Are you all in your truck?"

"Yeah. We're squeezed in here."

"Um, well. Sounds fun? I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, bye."

We hung up. I couldn't figure out why three adults would choose to go all the way across town together to get a part. Especially squeezed into the front seat of a truck. It just didn't sound pleasant.

"Oh well," I thought, and went back in to work.

The next day, my mom called.

"Hi mom"

"Are you dating anyone?" My mom had never been one to waste time with chit chat.

Oh no, I thought. This wasn't good. I made a point to never mention whether or not I was dating anyone because I went through boys so quickly that if I mentioned a particular name, she would get it in her head that we were dating, when the fact was that I went on a date or two, and I just didn't like him. I'd have to explain why that one didn't work and how that one was SO annoying and how that other one was too touchy, ick. No, I did not talk to my mom about boys.

"MomBabe. I asked you a question. Are you dating anyone?"

"Uh, no. No Mom. I'm not dating anyone. Why?"

"Really? You're sure you're not dating anyone?"

"Yep. I'm sure. I'm not dating anyone."

"So, do you have a boyfriend?" She was on to me. I wasn't "dating" DadGuy. It was more serious than that. But, we hadn't ever defined whether we were "boyfriend/girlfriend" so...

"No. I don't have a boyfriend... Look, I have to go into work. I'll call you later."

I hung up. She's so weird! THIS is why I never tell her anything, I thought. If I had said, 'Yeah, I'm dating DadGuy,' then she would think we were getting married or something. Sheesh.

I walked into the salon and began setting up my station for the day. I put down my things, turned on my curling irons, then I went up front to double check the appointment book.

November is always a very busy month for salons. Women want to look their absolute best when they go back home for Thanksgiving and Christmas. They need touch ups before they have their family photos taken. Yes, November is a busy month in the hair world and yet....

My clients had magically disappeared from the books.

I turned the page. No appointments on Saturday.

I looked at the other stylists appointments. They were booked solid! And what's that? My clients were given to Sonya? And to Steve? Why would they do that! I was livid.

I turned to the receptionist. "Why are my clients booked with other stylists?"

"Wh-wh-what?" she stammered.

"Why. Are. My. Clients. BOOKED. With other stylists?"

"I don't know?" she offered meekly.

I shot her a dirty look and went back to my station.

No worries, I'll figure this out. She's new, she must not realize that I've been doing their hair every 4 weeks for the last two years. She must not KNOW that I come in early and stay late on Saturdays. She must not KNOW. I'll figure it out later. I have a break later... I'll straighten it all out.

I worked for a few hours, correcting DIY color jobs, cutting and shaping and styling my regulars. My clients. My people. That stupid girl just must not realize that this was MY salon. I skipped lunch, and when I finally had a break a few hours later, I stepped outside with my best friend and nail tech, a girl I'd worked with at two different salons, Jillian.

We chatted a little while, and Jill asked me how my Saturday was shaping up. I told her I had NOTHING on the books. She was taken aback.

"Really? You have nothing?"

"I know! Okay, well, maybe not. They moved my clients all over the place, and gave some of them to Steve and Sonya. Can you believe it? I swear, this new girl is driving me crazy."

"No way! I want to see."

We went back in and looked over the books.

I showed her. "See? Here and here? And look at this? Why would they move them to next week? And I ALWAYS do her hair at 10 on Saturdays. ALWAYS."

We turned the pages back and forth and back and forth.

"I swear. This is so lame. I'm not even going to come in tomorrow. What's the point?"

We went back outside to get some air before our last appointments arrived.

My phone rang.

It was DadGuy.

"Hello." I said wearily.

"Hey!" He paused. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Well, yeah! All my clients are canceling on me. And they're seeing different people! I have NOTHING tomorrow. Nothing! On a Saturday! I'm so pissed." I looked at Jillian and rolled my eyes.

"Oh, well... Guess where I'm at?"

I wasn't amused. Did he not hear me? Did he not understand that losing my clients was a big deal? I was losing money. And now he wants to play a game?

"Uh, I don't know." I checked my watch, "Aren't you at work?"

"Nope." I could hear him smiling. I could picture him bouncing around, thinking he was so cute.

"School?"

"Nope. Guess again."

"I don't want to guess again. Why aren't you at work?"

"Just guess!"

"Fine... Are you at home?"

"Nope!"

Jillian was staring at me. "Where is he?" she mouthed. I shrugged.

"Well then I don't know! If you're not at home, and you're not at school, and you're not at work, then I don't know. I don't know where you are and I don't want to guess anymore."

"I'm at my cousin's house!"

I was unimpressed.

"Did you hear me? I said I'm at my cousin's house!"

"Uh, that's great. Listen, I gotta get back inside."

"In Utah!"

Great. I'm losing my mind AND my clients and now my boyfriend/not boyfriend went out of town without telling me? This day was shaping up to be horrible.

"You went to Utah. So, I guess I'm not going to see you later tonight. Awesome. When are you gonna be back?"

Jillian was staring at me. I motioned her to come over and listen with me.

"Okay. Here's what I want you to do. After work, I want you to go to your mom's house and pick up your plane ticket..."

Jill and I looked at each other.

"Plane ticket?" I interrupted.

"Yeah!" He was enjoying himself. "You're plane ticket is at your mom's house. You need to pack your suitcase, make sure you bring some hiking shoes, and your mom has the rest of the instructions."

"What do you mean the rest of my instructions? DadGuy. DadGuy!"

"Yeah, I have to go. Just go to your mom's house after work. You have the weekend off. I took care of it."

The line went dead.

I just don't know where the other days went. Seriously. I looked under the couch and they weren't there.

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 15:15:00 +0000

I can't believe it's already Friday again. I feel like I haven't even written anything good this week, and if I'm only as good as my last post, WHAT DOES THAT SAY ABOUT ME?

In other news, Thaddeus is on his first ever field trip today. It happens to be at the fire station right behind my house and I'm thinking of crashing. Sure, the teachers may not appreciate me bringing three more little kids to the firehouse, but on the other hand, HEY! IT'S A FIRE TRUCK!

Which, incidentally, reminds me of the time that Thaddeus set my couch on fire... Oh, I never told you that story? It goes like this.

I do hair. I blow dry people all the time. My kids like to help with the blow drying because it has buttons and it is shiny. I cannot blame them for their fascination because I also get distracted by shiny things with buttons. Especially when those shiny things are new 1875 watt blow dryers with variable speeds and retractable cords.

Anyhow.

Thaddeus was pretty small, maybe two or three. And he got the notion that he should use the blow dryer. I was in the bathroom at the time, deciding if I was done throwing up or not, (!yay pregnancy!) when I heard the blow dryer turn on. I remember yelling at him to turn it off, and he didn't. I didn't go out to investigate because as it turns out, I wasn't done with the throwing up just yet.

When I finally emerged from the bathroom and walked into the living room, my couch was smoking.

He had the dryer on the hottest setting, and he had placed the nozzle directly on the fabric. I ran/waddled over there and when I pulled back the dryer, there were small flames (!go oxygen!)
and a nozzle sized hole in the couch.

It was awesome.

And it smelt really badly so I had to go back and throw up some more.

And that concludes the story about the first time Thaddeus ever set something on fire.

(I just decided that he had to have been two because I was pregnant with Daniel. So, yeah. A two year old set the couch on fire.... We like to hone our delinquency skills early.)

Operation: Birthday

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 13:53:00 +0000

Dear DadGuy,

Happy Birthday!

I know it's supposed to be a "big" birthday, what with you turning 30 and all. It's just that we're kinda stuck right now. So, in lieu of a present, I'm going to let you sleep in on Saturday. And maybe on Sunday too.

I hope you enjoy it to the fullest.

~♥~

your wife.

Growing Pains

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 19:00:00 +0000

We went to the dentist.

We got our teeth cleaned and shined.

We got to pick out a prize.

We got new toothbrushes.

And Daniel.... poor, sweet, Danny Mack.

He got an extra special bouncy ball because HE traded in two pacifiers.

And all day long, he kept that extra special bouncy ball in his pocket.

And next to his plate at dinner.

And it even joined him in the shower that night.

But when it was time for bed, hoo-boy.

"Pafs-fire?"

"Pacifier is all gone. You gave it to the dentist, remember?"

And the tears came.

And the sobbing.

And the heaving.

And he cried for HOURS.

Until finally, we gave him some melatonin, to help him get to sleep.

But when he woke up for a midnight trip to the toilet,

He remembered that he was without a pacifier once again.

And the crying.

And the sobbing.

And the heaving.

And the wailing.

Started all over again.

And at about three in the morning,

We got him back to sleep again.

And my poor, sweet Danny Mack had to miss preschool this morning.

He was "sick" with a "boken head"

Which is to say,

He cried so much that his head is killing him.

And he asked for a pacifier.

Because he's "tired"

Sadly, they're still gone.

Because he gave them to the dentist...

Here's hoping tonight goes better.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 17:31:00 +0000

It was just another day here in shortling-land when the doorbell rang. Mr. Fed-Ex delivered us a package, the new and improved Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs: Diamond Edition.

Disney is introducing an all new product line, the Diamond Collection, and no movie could be more fitting for launch than "The One That Started It All." Snow White first debuted in 1937, and transformed the entertainment industry. It was the first full-length animated film ever made, and now, over 70 years later, still touches the hearts of children everywhere.

I was so happy to share Snow White and the Seven Dwarves with my kids. We skipped dinner, made popcorn, turned off the lights, and snuggled up to watch together. It was amazing.

The animation has been restored and the sound, THE SOUND! The music has never been better. (Trust me. The music used while Dopey tried to keep hold of the soap is fantastic. It made me smile all over again.) We were singing and dancing along to the 7.1 digital theater hi-def surround sound all night.

The Diamond Collection premieres today, October 6. The combo pack includes:

1-Disc DVD

Full-length film
Audio commentary by John Canemaker
All-new digital restoration with enhanced picture and sound
Restored original theatrical soundtrack
All new music video - performed by Sonny witha Chance's Tiffany Thornton
Exclusive sneak peek at The Princess and The Frog

2-Disc Blu-ray

Picture and Sound

First time ever in high definition 7.1 sound
Disneyview - Expanded Viewing experience
All-New Music Video

Disney Family Play

What Do You See? - Decipher the scrambled image
Mirror, Mirror On The Wall - Which Princess are you most like?
Jewel Jumble - Test your matching skills

Backstage Disney

Snow White Returns - newly discovered storyboards. Was Walt planning a sequel?
Hyperion Studios - Explore Walt's original studio
The One That Started It All - See how Snow White and the Seven Dwarves forever changed the world of movies
Exclusive sneak peek at The Princess and The Frog

Classic Bonus Features

Dopey's Wind Mind Ride Game
"Heigh-Ho" Karoke Sing-Along
Disney Through the Decades and more!

Pick up your copy today, and fall in love with Snow White and the Seven Dwarves all over agin.

*If you already own Snow White on VHS or DVD click here for a $10 off coupon for the new Diamond Edition Pack! Offer only good through October 20.

Friday Tidbits

SweetMommyBingham@gmail.com (MomBabe) — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 19:10:00 +0000

* I have to redo my chore charts because as nice as the system was, I somehow forgot that I live with a two year old and she would switch all the cards around and then suddenly the division of chores wasn't fair. Therefore, I'm doing another one, with NO removable parts.

* The rental situation. Bah. Yes, we have enough money to keep the house without renters for a few months. The thing is, WHAT IF we never get a renter? And WHAT IF 10 months down the road we end up losing it anyways? Then we'll have to deal with having that on our credit AND we'll be out twelve thousand dollars. I mean, if the difference in foreclosing NOW and THEN is $12,000, then I say do it now and keep the money. I just can't decide if I think that's honest of me. I mean, sure, we can afford it for awhile.... but then what? That integrity thing, it gets you every time.

* Thaddeus didn't go to school today. We've been sick over here on and off but mostly on for the better part of a month. You know what we finally discovered? ALLERGIES. Yes, I kept him home today, just to learn that we're not actually "sick" we're just allergic to winter. Zyrtec WIN.

* My new neighborhood is SO so awesome. Three houses down from us lives a boy from Tad's class. Then the two houses next ALSO home kindergarten boys. And every day from about 3:30 in the afternoon until 6:00, there's just a troupe of children running in and out of my house, laughing and playing and being their wonderful childlike selves. It's quickly becoming my favorite time of day.

* This weekend is General Conference! I'm totally excited and am deciding what treats to make. As for the kids, I've found a few different activity sheets online, and have printed them up (times 4) and tonight am going to assemble activity bags for the shortlings. I'm hoping that they'll halfway listen half the time. (We're little. It's the best I can hope for.) I'm just sad that I didn't find a good puzzle for ME to work on while I listen. Because I always listen better when my hands are busy. Maybe I'll take NOTES. Of course, that means everyone else would want pencils, and that would be a disaster, so maybe we can just forget that I ever mentioned anything about note taking.

* My knee has been asleep since yesterday. It's painful and obnoxious. Two qualities I normally like, but only when they're combined in the form of a train wreck of a stand up comedian. In my knee? Notsomuch.

* I went back to aerobics this week. It's the first time I'd been since spraining my ankle last month. However, the walking lunges killed me and I've been hobbling around since Wednesday AND I had to cancel on my walking partner because, hello, couldn't walk.

* Taylor bit me today. She was mad and thrashing and I picked her up and kept going on with my errand (you know, to pick up our Zyrtec) and since she wasn't getting the proper reaction, she bit me. I flicked her mouth and said "NO" and then she dissolved into hysterical sobbing because obviously I didn't love her and her cute dagger teeth.

* How's that for a Friday update?

* Oh, and also, if you're reading this in your reader, you probably didn't notice my cute new Halloween header and seriously, you'd be sad if you didn't click over here and see it. Just sayin'.

P.S. And yes, I know. I killed my comments. I was trying to do something else and it didn't work. So... yeah. Until further notice, comments are dead.

P.P.S. Just kidding. I fixed it. And you will all be happy to know that I divorced intense debate and comments are back to the way you like them. Don't ever say I didn't do anything for you.

P.P.P.S. Unfortunately, that means that all the comments that used to be there aren't. sigh. now I look like a lame unpopular person again.

P.P.P.P.S. But don't let that guilt you into commenting.

P.P.P.P.P.S. You know, unless you want to.

P.P.P.P.P.S. I promise I'm not this desperate in real life.