No Good Deed.....

Yesterday it occurred to me that my niece’s birthday is in 5 days. She lives in TX. I was really pushing my luck as the delivery window was closing. Luckily I’d purchased a gift a few weeks ago and then bought the finishing touch while in Disneyland. Unluckily I hadn’t gotten around to mailing it yet. Or wrapping it. Or doing anything more than think about how I should be sending it.

So, Steve got home before 6 last night and I busted out a package, shoved a pen and my address book in my purse and hauled cheeks to the Post Office to mail it off, knocking on wood the whole time that it would arrive by her birthday.

Imagine my horror when I arrived at the Centerville Post Office only to find that they close at 5 pm. What the dickens? I thought they were open until 6 pm. Not only was this bad news for my niece, but this was bad news for me because now I would have to take my kids the next day… and personal experience tells me that kids whose names begin with the letter "J" don’t mix well with the Postal Service.

As I slumped in defeat, sitting in the empty parking lot, I decided that this day could easily be remedied by getting Subway sandwiches for dinner. Nothing says healing like a $5 Footlong! So, I shoved the pen, address book and package back in my purse and headed to the drive-up window… $5 Footlong!

Again, that evil and fickle Lady Rotten-Luck struck and the $5 Footlong promotion had ended the day before. One day late… always! Still, I took the disappointment like a man, placed my order and pulled forward. I rummaged around in my purse and then itched my face and nose a bit with my knuckle (that IS important to the story) while waiting for the Subway sandwich artist to work his miracle.


When I handed the worker my debit card I noticed that my right hand was smeared with blue. INK! Then I noticed my left hand was covered too. I dug around in my purse and found the culprit. I’d apparently broken the head off my pen in my haste. Ink was even smeared on the package I hadn’t sent. Bummer.

Being a Girl Scout – I was in Brownie’s for about a year before I got bored of setting goals and then not meeting them – I always carry wet wipes with me. Okay, that probably has more to do with my role as a mother than a Girl Scout. Anyhow, I proceeded to clean up and was relieved to see that Huggies means business.

About the time I finished, the sandwiches were ready, so I flashed the guy a smile and pulled out. As I was waiting to pull into traffic I happened to look in the rearview mirror. GASP!

I doubt it will come as a shock to read that my face was streaked with ink. And, perhaps the best part? My entire right nostril was ringed with it, looking like I’d shoved an ink-stained finger right up in there and was digging around for gold. While it’s embarrassing for me to even type this, imagine how I felt when I realized that the Subway employees were certainly enjoying a little chuckle at my expense.

How did I go from attempting to make a little girl’s birthday dreams come true to looking like a super dedicated nose picker in a matter of minutes?

This is once again proof that no good deed goes unpunished!

California Dreamin'

Last week our little family enjoyed a vacation to California. It was 5 days of….well… everything from wonderful to horrifying. But, when you travel with children, "vacation" often doesn’t actually mean retreat or escape, it’s more like you just change work locations for a few days!

Anyhow, so many things happened on our trip that I’ve had a hard time deciding how to approach this blog. I’m a huge proponent of focusing on the funny, so I should probably leave out the fact that all the children – and possibly the Grammy – contracted a communicable disease while in the happiest place on earth. Maybe I shouldn’t mention the plane delays, J-Bear’s brief experimental stint of anorexia, the raging fevers that we shared with all the princesses at Ariel’s Grotto, the temper tantrum at It’s a Small World, Cadie Lu’s “touch of pneumonia”, J-Bear’s extreme aversion to sand at the beach, finding a safe bathroom in “Who Knows Where” California, calling my personal pharmacist for a lengthy drug discussion at late hours, or Grampy missing the whales.

Nope, let’s focus on the positive here. Because, there were MANY wonderful things about our trip. So, in no particular order, I offer you the following list:

• Palm Trees, 70 degree sunshine, sunscreen, buying shorts at Target, pink noses
• Huntington Beach, surfers, splashing in the frigid waves, sand castles, seashells
• Soarin’, Screamin’, Toy Story Mania, Ariel’s Grotto, Ferris Wheel
• Autopia (Ms. Els can drive!), Parades, Tea Cups, Dumbo, Peter Pan, “I wasn’t scared!”
• Ice-cream eaten in a side alley, making my family jealous with repeated picture-texts
• Steve’s first time on Indiana Jones and The Matterhorn, wearing flip-flops, being a kid
• Catching up with Cindee, L.A., Hollywood, Mel’s Diner, “a.b.c.” gum in J-Bear’s new toy
• $7 cheeseburgers, $3 bottled waters, $3 ice-cream cones, CHURROS!!
• J-Bear deciding to eat again, pbj picnics on Paradise Pier, 3D glasses, Grammy’s scooter
• Videos on the iPod, snack service on the flights, reading by the night light, snuggles
• Swimming pool, vending machines, games of who-has-the-park-ticket, stamped hands
• Sea lion show, touching the corral, giant crabs, shark eggs, killer whales, Queen Mary
• Time together. With no interruptions!

Overall, this trip was an adventure. It was a wonderful time for our family to spend together. I still remember the trips I went on as a child, and even as an adult, with my grandparents and I’m so happy that my children are making those same kinds of memories with theirs!

So, thanks Lowell and Susie – and Aunt Cindee too. We appreciate your patience, your laughs, your willingness to walk as slow as a snail, early to bed and early to rise, illegal rides on the scooter, making pbj’s in the dark, and all the other things you did that made this trip great for our family.

But most of all we appreciate the days you took out of your lives to spend with us. We love you!

PS - Next time we go to Disneyland, we’re taking masks and latex gloves!

Cockiness never was Happiness

You know you’re in desperate need of a Mom-cation when you lose possession of your senses and view the dental office as a small getaway.

I hate to admit it, but this happened to me. A few weeks ago I found a random hole in the side of my tooth and then a few days after that a chunk of a filling fell out directly above the holey tooth. Given my history of cavities I was just grateful that this time they opted to centralize so that all work could be focused in one area of my mouth.

It wasn’t too long ago that I had a terrible fear of the dentist. Sweaty palms, intestinal discomfort, weeping… and that was just while dialing their number. I don’t believe that my fear makes me a pansy. In my defense, I’d never had a non-invasive dental appointment in my life.

And then, I gave birth. Three times. Suddenly the dentist seemed like no big deal. I’ve been through much worse and it lasted much longer!

And this is where I went wrong. I got cocky. There was nary a gas bubble this time when I called to schedule the appointment. No sweaty palms. I was feelin’ good. I arranged for my husband to be home and readied my iPod with a playlist appropriate to drown out the sound of drilling. On my drive over I actually thought, “I should have brought a book to read while I’m waiting to get numb”. Yep. Cockiness never was happiness.

I got in the chair, all comfy-like, and settled in for a child-free hour of listening to devil music (this is what I call anything my kids shouldn’t listen to). And, it all went to pot after that.

See, my BFF Fate caught wind of my haughty attitude and decided that perhaps it was time to remind me of my mortality. Yep. It took 5 shots and 3 ½ hours in the chair before I wobbled out of the office. My tongue was twice its normal size (I swear!), I was lisping and drooling. My hands were shaking. My iPod had started playing disco without my permission. I had a wedgie that wouldn’t stop, a kink in my neck, a bloody lip, and my eyelids were drooping as the anesthesia coursed through them.

The good news is that I didn’t get pulled over on the way home and have to inform Centerville’s Finest that I wasn’t “mentally altered”. The bad news is that my Mom-cation turned out to have less of a spa feel than I was anticipating. It had more of a being dragged behind a run-away stagecoach feel to it. What a bummer. With how much money I paid for those 3 ½ hours I should have at least come away with a balloon animal.

To add insult to injury, I was thrown this little morsel of delight on my way out, “Oh, and Aspen, you have one more cavity that we need to fill when you have the time.” Which sounded a lot like “Oh, and Aspen, we’re going to draw and quarter you at high noon next week.”

I’m going to just let that tooth rot and fall out of my mouth. After all, I have 31 other teeth to take up the slack. And the dentist scares me!

The Kennedy Hypothesis

I’ve watched enough interviews with various members of the powerful Kennedy clan to know that they have a long held tradition of stimulating and intellectual dinnertime conversations. They would discuss both foreign and domestic politics, service opportunities, local and national news etc. This is something I’ve admired about their family. I mean, it’s obviously served them well! They are a highly successful family – even if they are cursed.

When Steve and I became parents I made a point of having regular family dinner. And, in keeping up with the Kennedy’s, I thought it would be fun to have dinner time be open for discussions on a variety of subjects. I had dreams of propelling my progeny toward successful lives. Someday they’d be on Oprah’s couch talking about how their mother gently guided them via the dinner table. It was going to be beautiful!

Yep – that’s what I get for dreaming. Here is a very small sampling of some of the hot topics from the Hadley Dinner Table:

Dinosaurs –

Cadie Lu: Did you know that carnivores walked on their back legs, had tiny front legs and ate meat?
Me: Really? Well, what about herbivores?
Cadie Lu: Hmm…. Well, sure. I know all about herbivores. They have three legs and two tails.

Neutering / Getting Fixed -

Ms. Els: Did you know that Jasper (the dog) went to the doctor and they cut off his bum and took out the part that makes babies?
Cadie Lu: They cut off his bum? Well, they must have sewed it back on because he still has a bum.
Els: Yes, he has a bum silly. He’s just missing the big part that makes babies.
Cadie Lu: Oh, is that why he has a funny chunk on the back with a line? (surgery scar)
Els: Yes, that’s right. We wouldn’t want him to have puppies. They’d be running all over the place and making a mess.
Cadie: And, his bum would sure look funny all full of puppies!

Death –

Cadie Lu: Did you know that something really sad happened to Ms. Teia’s (preschool teacher) cat?
Me: Yes, I heard he died
Cadie Lu: He did die. But it’s okay, he’ll come back soon.
Me: Really? How’s he going to do that?
Cadie Lu: Easy. He’ll just fall right out of the sky!
Els: Uh… nice try Cades. Get real. Cats don’t just fall out of the sky!

Now, I understand that my children are young. But, I’m a bit worried about what I now see as my “pipe dream”! It’s clear that if we continue down this conversational path we’re never going to get to politics or philanthropic opportunities. Nope, we’re going to end up discussing farts and where to get the best cheeseburgers.

While the Kennedy’s raised America’s royalty, I’m just raising America’s garbage men….

Go Figure...

As mentioned in a previous post, the Hubster took a little spill and ended up herniating a disc in his back. Oopsie. It’s clear that he didn’t take me into consideration when he fell. It was a purely selfish move. (Okay, I can’t even type that with a straight face.)

Anyhow, due to the nature of his injury, it causes him incredible pain to drive his car. Pushing in the clutch hurts. Bad. So, being the giving and loving person I am, I offered to trade cars.

Let’s take a moment of silence here and reflect on the loss of my third row seating.


It’s been about two weeks now. Two weeks of pain. Two weeks of reading novels, watching movies and trying not to think about how bad it hurts. And I’m not talking about Steve. I’m talking about ME. I’m talking about the emotional and physical pain of shoving my three kids in the back seat of a compact car.

They pull hair, contort into strange positions to kick each other, claw faces and generally torture each other. Yesterday I finally snapped. Something broke inside of me and I decided to move my oldest into the front seat for a quick errand.

Yes, there was a lengthy debate in my mind over whether it’s an actual LAW that children under 12 be in back, or whether it’s a recommendation. Because if I’m not actually going to get pulled over and given a ticket, well, then giddy up. And hey, even if I did get pulled over, that cop would take one look at my 3 kids with their ragamuffin hair, scratched faces, puffy eyes and bloody noses and he’d escort me straight to Mrs. Cavanaugh’s!

Right up until I pulled over to make the ole switcheroo there had been a rip-roaring good fight going on in the back. Lots of "I hate you’s” and “You’re a stinky bum’s” had been flying around. However, the moment Ms. Els escaped to the front, the apocalypse hit in the form of Cadie Lu: ditched 4 year-old tsunami of anger.

She screamed, kicked, rolled out of her car seat, cried and completely lost mental control. All because her sister wasn’t sitting next to her anymore. Yep, the very same sister who she had just said, “I hate you” to. The same sister who is apparently a stinky bum. The same sister who may have a mild concussion.

Turns out its true: You can’t live with ‘em, and can’t live without ‘em.

As for me and my house....

I believe that I've previously mentioned my oldest daughter's propensity for cop-ness. She's constantly monitoring the activities of the homefront and reporting back to me. Okay, I'm churching it up. She can be a real bossy tattle-tale.

I wish I could say that this is confined to home, but it's not. I feel sorry for any child who breaks the rules in front of Madam Officer. In an effort to keep her from alienating other children I told her that if she sees someone doing something naughty she should just whisper it into her hand, put that in her pocket and save it to tell to me when she gets home. From my end it appears to be working because I get daily "pocket reports" after school.

Now, it's only natural that a child with such a rule following tendency should find herself a huge fan of the concept of good vs. evil. She is completely captivated by the showdown between good and bad. And she wants to be planted firmly on the side of good. Well, GOOD for her! (If I hadn't birthed her I'd wonder if she was mine!)

And yet, knowing ALL of this about her, I was still caught completely off-guard by a conversation we had this morning.

Ms. Els: Mom, Friend did something really bad. She lied to her Mom and brought something to school that she was supposed to keep at home.
Me: Oh, that's too bad. It's not good to disobey your Mom. (sweet plug there!)
Ms. Els: Yep, when you do stuff like that you're serving the devil.

Please tell me you're as shocked here as I was. I kind of laughed but managed to stifle it before she noticed. Speaking of the devil - What... the... DEVIL??

Me: Excuse me?
Ms. Els: Ya, if you do bad stuff you're choosing to serve the devil.
Me: You learn that at church?
Ms. Els: Yep.
Me: Okay, well, I can tell you that it definitely isn't good to lie and sneak around. And Satan does want us to make bad choices. But, I'm sure Friend will try harder next time.

(The way Els made it sound you'd think Friend was on her way to a human sacrifice after school!)

The entire thing has left me somewhere between feeling proud of Els and her commitement to fight for good, and scared of what she must think of me! I mean, I can be a pretty huge hypocrite what with my yelling at them to stop yelling, my spanking them when they hit each other, my making them eat carrots while I'm eating a snickers bar.

Either way, I've had a flash of the future and I believe she'll be spending a lot of time holding protest signs and petition forms. Because someday that pocket of hers is going to overflow and she just won't be able to stay quiet in the face of evil.

Now, if she could just rub off on me a little bit....