A Food Diary

At the boys' school, you get a daily report card of the kiddies activities when they are in the toddler programs. I love the little report card. It gives me an idea of the nitty gritty of their day - did they nap? what did they eat? did they poop? (Yes, really.) It also always includes a narrative of the activities performed, books read, walks taken about town or fun arts and crafts made. Once the kids grow up and move on to the preschool rooms, there are no more report cards. I missed it once Aidan left the toddler programs, but I still get to enjoy Brennan's reports.

Brennan's report card, however, is a little different than the notes I received on Aidan. In Brennan's case, his teachers love to narrate not only what Brennan ate at snacks and lunch, but the sheer amount of food he consumes. Yesterday, Brennan's teacher wrote that he ate cheese ravioli for lunch, but had to put an extra note in parentheses next to it that said in bold ("SIX!!!"). Last week when he had chicken nuggets for lunch, his teacher wrote ("Lots and Lots!"). The week before they had mac and cheese ("Many Helpings!"). After another mac and cheese day, she wrote ("Loves his mac n' cheese!!! Ate ALOT!). Heh.

Brennan likes his food and he is certainly not bashful about it.

Little Things

Sometimes, it is the little things that keep me smiling. Lots of little things today.

I smiled because Griffin giggled in his crib when he saw my face this morning.

I smiled when I listened to Brennan singing to himself in bed this morning.

I smiled when I sang songs with the boys the whole car ride to school. (Snuggle Puppy is a current favorite.)

I smiled because I overheard this argument between the boys over their bowls of Lucky Charms:

Brennan: "Where'd my momma go?"

Aidan: "She's my mommy too you know."

Brennan: "No. MY MOMMA!"

Aidan: "No, she's MINE TOO."

Brennan: "MYYYYYY MOMMA. MYYYYY Momma! Mine!"

Aidan: "You can't just keep her all to herself. You have to share her, Brennan!"

Brennan starts to cry. I step in to intervene, trying to keep the giggles and smiles in check.

I smiled because I wore my red shoes today. (LOVE THEM! And I keep glancing at them to keep me smiling, even when I was in a meeting this morning. Hee!)

I smiled because the angel watching Griffin for us this month, my best friend Diane's mom, Celia, made me lunch today in the cutest little brown bag. I smiled even more when I realized she even buttered the roll she included in the lunch.

I smiled when I heard my husband's voice from 3,000 miles away and realized he would much rather be home with us.

I smiled when I saw how very pregnant and beautiful my friend Esther looks today. (And no it's NOT twins people. For the LOVE of God already!)

I smiled because damn, spanx are totally the best invention ever and made me look so much cuter in the skirt I am wearing today.

I smiled because I discovered this morning that my aunt dropped three books in my mailbox for me to read. And to me, books are better than candy.

I smiled when I found a bag of peanut m & ms in my desk drawer that I am eating right this very minute!

More smiles to come. I hope. (Glance at red shoes, smile again!)

Long Weekend!

A Long Weekend. Although, technically, due to my part time work schedule, my whole life is a long weekend.

My brothers, Seth and Travis, sister in law, Tennille, and my brother’s girlfriend, Lynda, all came home from NYC for a visit. They all spent lots of time with the boys engaged in tackle, kite flying, water fights, flubber, and coloring. My heart melts a little every time I saw my boys hug their uncles. Aidan loved to hold Travis’s hand. Brennan wouldn’t let Seth get up from the couch while they watched a movie. Griffin managed to drool or spit up on both Tennille and Lynda.

We all had an adult night out at my cousin’s graduation party. Open Bar. Hello apple martinis for me. Dinner afterwards brought many bottles of wine. Drinks after dinner gave me a never ending glass of wine thanks to Tennille’s friend the bartender. This all made for a very tired, cranky and somewhat hung over mommy the next morning.

On Sunday, Chris left for a week long business trip. We are two days in and I count it a success that no one has been locked in the basement. I had a minor nervous breakdown when I realized after he left that I was out of coffee grounds. It was a debate of epic proportions. Load three children into the car just to go to the store for coffee or endure the lack of caffeine while I suffer the sleep deprivation of a single working parent this week? My mother came to the rescue and dropped off coffee for me. (Seattle’s Best, Cinnabon! Mmmmm.) Life is good. Now if I can just keep myself out of the basement for three more days...

Need an Opinion?

Fisher Price Play Lab called today to ask if they could send us a DVD for Brennan to watch. We need to watch the DVD and complete a short survey. In return, we get to keep the DVD and get $15 cash. Um, is this a no brainer, or what? Free DVD, children entertained and happy for at least a half an hour and I get $15?

If I add the $15 to my already earned "Nielson family" salary of $30 - I am up to $45 for simply giving my opinion. This is fun. Lots and lots of fun. If I knew I could get paid for being opinionated, I would have skipped law school all together.

I Want My TV!

Today is our last day as a Nielson family. What is a Nielson family you ask? A Nielson family is asked to record their tv viewing habits for one week. The fancy, important Nielson people take our records and using some complicated mathematical algorithm, come up with tv ratings. Boring stuff, huh?

NOT IN THE LEAST! I was almost too excited to be "part of the Nielson family." (Yep. They really do describe it that way. Cute huh? Little culty, but cute.) First, we got a postcard in the mail to alert us that a customer service rep would contact us by phone to see if we were interested in "joining the Nielson family." I was all a quiver with excitement. I kept asking Chris, "But what if we miss the call? Will they still let me be part of the family if I miss the call?" (Yes, it is amazing he has stayed with me for all these years.)

But we didn't miss the call! Hurray for me! Except, the call came in at probably the worst possible time. Two kiddies in the bath engaged in a heated water fight, one infant screaming his head off, and me trying to fold three tons of laundry. Yet when they asked me if it was a good time, I put on my best enthusiastic family voice and said unequivocally - yes! And then I hung up on them.

It was an accident. I was trying to pick up Griffin, talk on the phone and give the other two boys my best warning look. I was doomed. I hit the phone with my ear and hung up on the Nielson guy. And what does any sane person do in this situation? Well, I cried. Chris was ready to commit me. Seriously, put me away.

"Honey, they will call back," Chris says in a gentle, reassuring, my wife has gone bonkers tone of voice.

"Nooooo, they won't call back," I wail back "We lost our chance! We lost it!"

"They'll call back."

"We'll never be part of the Nielson family! Never!" I cry in hysteria.

Chris gives me a look that suggests I have gone and lost my mind for good this time. I respond with, "Don't you want the shows you watch to get good ratings? Don't you? How would you feel if all we had to watch day in and day out was something like Dancing With the Stars?"

That shut him up. After a few minutes - they called back! And so it was - we became part of the Nielsons. I have tried to be as honest and as accurate as possible in our reporting. (Well, except I told my friend Christine that I would lie and say I watch Brothers and Sisters even though I don't because it is her very favorite show and she may cry if it gets canceled. But other than that - I swear - total honesty. )

I was proud to mark down the time I watched a show on PBS, but embarrassed to record that I watch the Bachelor. (I know - it's like a car wreck and I. Just. Can't. Stop. Watching.) I was a little ashamed at the amount of tv the kiddies watched last Sunday morning, but hey - sunday morning tv equals a mommy who gets to read the sunday paper. I learned that Chris never remembers what he watched on tv the night before and he describes every show he watches as "some kind of law and order thing." I also learned that I never, ever get to watch the news, unless you count the ten minutes I get dressed to the sounds of the Today show on my working days.

All in all, it has been interesting. And they paid us $30 too!

A Legal Field Trip

My adventures in law took me to Roswell Park Cancer Institute today. It was my first visit to Roswell and I was beyond impressed by the facilities and the people. It says volumes to me when a cancer hospital and research center houses its executive offices within the hospital.

The people who work at Roswell devote such focus and enthusiasm to the treatment and cure of cancer. Their focus and dedication are admirable. They believe in what they do. Their energy and drive make a difference. I was in awe of them, while at the same time a little jealous of them too.

After watching the pain and emotional roller coaster ride suffered by Chris's aunt and uncle when his cousin passed away from cancer last year, I have a new found respect for the amazing level of care and research in Buffalo. We are so fortunate to have Roswell available to us here, in our very own backyard.

On the Move

Pack up the itty bitty army men, the mini legos and marbles. Put away the connect four pieces, the little trains and puzzle pieces. Griffin is trying to crawl. He can get himself up and push himself just a teensy bit forward by straining with his legs. It's only a matter of time before this child is on the move.

We will now accept wagers on how long it will take for Griffin to injest one of the million and one toys littering our floor. Let the betting begin!

Sunday, Sunday

On Sunday, Brennan slept in until 8:30 a.m. For those of you without children, the use of "sleep in" with the time of "8:30" may seem like a typo. It's not. For parents with young kiddies, 8:30 seems like middle of the day.

Brennan awoke with an exuberant enthusiasm brought on by an abundance of sleep. He ran from his room yelling, "I'm awake! Momma, I'm awake." While he came down the stairs, slowly, step by step, he kept yelling, "Momma, I'm awake!"

I yelled from the kitchen downstairs, "Who's awake?"

"Me!" He yelled back.

"Who?"

"Me!" He jumped down the last step, ran into the entrance of the kitchen and threw his arms wide. "I'm awake!" He paused. "And I want bacon!"

I almost spit out my coffee I laughed so hard. "Bacon? How about some cereal or waffles to go with that bacon?"

"No, Momma. Just bacon! Mmmm, Bacon!"

How can you not just adore this child?

After the bacon was eaten and a (ahem) few Max and Ruby's later, we headed out for a family portrait. Chris's mom will turn 60 next month. In honor of her birthday, we all got spiffed up for a family picture day. As the only contingent of the family with young children, I was a tad stressed. I knew pictures could go either really, really well or be, well, hell. Surprisingly enough, it went fine. The boys held up well. No tears (not even from me - who hates to get her picture taken! Hate!) And I think we even took a few good shots. Our individual family shot actually turned out okay too. See?



Don't we look like one big happy family?

The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round

We made it through the tour of the classrooms without incident. (By without incident I mean no tears or crying. By we, I mean Aidan and me - as the odds of Chris crying or tearing up at kindergarten orientation are slim to none.)

We made it through the chatting with the teachers and the walk around the school. Aidan made it through the bus safety video, while I, um, well, had to choke back tears maybe once or twice. I have no idea what exactly in the bus safety video from circa 1983 set me off, but I had to pinch myself to keep the tears from flowing. I must have been doing a pretty bad job of hiding the emotional rollercoaster though, because Chris caught a glimpse of my face and actually asked if I was okay. Me, okay? Sure - please, it's a safety video. (Blink back tears, pinch leg, try to smile.)

After the video, the teachers asked the kiddies to line up next to the door for the bus ride. Aidan started to get in line, looked behind him and realized I wasn't joining him in the line, and it all sort of went downhill from there. He may have clutched my leg, cried a bit, maybe even engaged in some screaming. I froze up with a polite embarrassed smile on my face while every other mother watched their child walk in a single file line with excitement to get on the bus ride. Mr. Bus Driver took pity on me and invited me along on the bus ride with the kiddies. Thankfully, there was another mother with a hysterical child who got to enjoy the bus ride with me. Otherwise, it was us, the bus driver and approximately thirty kindergarteners out for a spring drive around town.

And the wheels on the bus go round and round...

Dreams

I used to dream of adventures and of travels. I used to dream of goals I would accomplish and people I would meet.

Now, three children later, I dream of sleep. Sweet, uninterrupted, blissful sleep. A sleep where I would slowly wake up entirely on my own with a yawn and a sigh, content to roll over for ten minutes more. Sleep without cries of children in the distance. Sleep, sweet, sweet sleep. Just sleep.

Don't Be That Mom

Tomorrow morning is Aidan's kindergarten orientation. Kindergarten ORIENTATION. My baby has to be oriented for kindergarten. As part of the orienting, the kiddies get to take a bus ride with their new classmates. I have been preparing Aidan for the bus ride and orientation to avoid the inevitable breakdown. I also, well, have been preparing myself for the bus ride and orientation to avoid my inevitable breakdown. Literally, I have to have pep talks with myself about not crying. I do not want to be THAT mother. The mother crying and clinging to their child like a complete lunatic. Even though, well, I have a strong suspicion I just might sort of be that mother.

As I put Aidan to bed tonight he asked me questions about what to expect tomorrow. After a few questions, he was quiet for a little bit and gave me a long, hard hug. Then he turned to look at me and asked, "At kindergarten, can I take my blankies with me to hug?"

Tears in my eyes. I gave him a hug and played the mom card of "we'll see."

If I can't make it through the discussions about the orientation without crying, how in hell am I supposed to survive the actual orientation? Or even worse, (sigh) the actual kindergarten? I am so going to be the hysterical pyscho mom. Let the therapy for my child commence.

The Dance of the Grumpys

Grumpy morning for me. Chris nudged me at 6:15 to wake me for the shower. I had just fallen back asleep after feeding Griffin at 5 am. I may have bitten Chris’s head off just a lil’ bit, but I finally crawled out of bed and made it to the shower muttering grumpy, pitiful platitudes about a lack of sleep.

The kiddies didn’t want to wake up. I forgot to make the bottles last night. The shirt I wanted to wear needed to be ironed. Griffin wanted just one more feeding before I left for work. In other words, we were all going to be late.

My grumpiness increased until I was officially on edge. I was trying to make my lunch as I yelled to the boys to get their shoes on NOW. Brennan was playing with magnets on the fridge. He found the magnet that played music, pushed the button to make the music play and yelled to me, “Dance, momma, dance!”

“Brennan, Mommy is trying to make her lunch, so…”

He pulled the magnet off of the fridge, walked over to me and pushed the button again.

“Dance, Momma, Dance!” Aidan walked over to me giggling and joined in the fun.

“Come on Mom,”Aidan said as he laughed, “Dance.”

And so I did. I made my turkey sandwich and danced around the kitchen. I wiggled my hips, kicked my legs and moved my butt. The boys dissolved into laughter. We all danced and the grumpiness was gone. Just like that. I left for work smiling without a grumpy thought or pitiful sigh in sight.

Years from now, we aren’t going to remember the grumpy mornings, but I hope we all remember that we danced.

But Why?

Chris and I both had early meetings this morning so I had to wake up the boys to get to school. When I woke Aidan up, he smiled at me, sat up quickly and asked: "Did we win, Mom?"

I rubbed his back absentmindedly and asked "What?"

Aidan jumped out of bed and asked again, "Did we win? Did the Sabres win their game last night?"

"Oh, no honey, the Sabres didn't win. We lost."

"We did? We lost?" Aidan's face was a mixture of disappointment and confusion. "But Why?" "Why did we lose?"

Sigh. I only wish I knew why. I wish I knew. Aidan's expression of disappointment and confusion will be echoed across the faces of all of Buffalo this morning. But why?

If Only

Home, to me, means to live amongst family. I live surrounded by family. Cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, moms - we have them all here.

It's wonderful, but sometimes I am selfish. Because what I don't have here are my brothers. My brothers left with lofty goals and found greener pastures in Manhattan. They live fancy lives in sophisticated Manhattan. They jet set. They party at hours when I am doing middle of the night feedings. And they are not here at home. They are someplace else.

I know Manhattan is not all that far away, but sometimes it feels as if it is at the other end of the world. This distance grew once I had children. I want my boys to know their uncles. I want my children to learn from them, to laugh with them, to turn to them when they need help. I want them to love each other. If only they lived closer. If only they moved home. It's hard to build a strong relationship with such a distance. If only.

But I have hope. I watched my little boys play with abandon on Sunday with their uncles. It was enthusiastic games of tackle and chase, video games and lots of jokes and laughter. It was only a couple of hours, but it gave me hope that sometimes the distance doesn't really have to matter at all.

Mother's Day Social

Friday was the boys' school mother's day social. It is always a cute affair. Each class sings songs or provides some sort of entertainment and the classrooms are decorated with mom inspired posters and designs created by the kiddies.

This year we missed the entertainment because we were ten minutes late. Sigh. I was the only mother late, but trying to get three children out of the house prevents me from arriving anywhere on time, even with an abundance of effort and good intentions. Nonetheless, the true entertainment for me was the posters Aidan's class created entitled: "When I am at School My Mother is..."

..."working"
..."sitting in a chair all day long"
..."doing pilates"
..."working on the treadmill." I howled at the last two. And who are the yummie mommies in the class? Hee.

Thankfully, the kids prepared those posters on a day Aidan is not at school, so I did not have to endure Aidan's take on my day.

Aidan's class also drew pictures of their moms and completed several sentences provided by their teachers on the picture. My picture gives me both a nice yellow blonde hair color with black mixed in. I think Aidan is trying to tell me it's time to get my roots done. As for the sentences about his mom, Aidan's went like this:

My mom is: "a lawyer."
My mom likes to: "clean the playroom." This is beyond funny if you could actually see our playroom.
My mom says this all the time: "I love you."
I love my mom because she "gives me lots of hugs and kisses."

Good son. Good, good son. When I think of the things he could have written, I shudder just a bit.

It reminds me of the week his last class was learning about feelings. The teacher had an inspired moment when she did posters entitled, "I feel sad when..." and the kiddies had to complete the sentence. I think there were alot of mother's drinking after the public humilation caused by the display of those posters.

I feel sad when "my mommy yells at me"; "my mommy tells me to be quiet"; "my mommy goes to work". Yeah, you get the picture. Aidan's poster? I feel sad when "my mommy won't get me a book." Great, huh? I am the mom who refuses to allow her child to read! Humpf. I think the teacher reconsidered that lesson plan.

In related child news, Griffin is now a mad roller. He rolls over and promptly screams in frustration when he discovers he is on his belly. You roll him back on his back and in less than a minute, he is back on his belly. Lots of fun. Griffin is also onto food. So far both prunes and sweet potatoes are a hit. Cereal, not so much. He spits it out with a face of disgust. I can't say I blame him.

Last Day was the Hardest

My last day of my first week back at work was, strangely enough, the most difficult. I sailed through day two, but hit a wall on day three. I missed the kids. I questioned my decision to work. And the politics of life in an office annoyed the hell out of me.

The worst moment of my day? At 4:30 p.m, Chris and I were offered tickets to last night's Sabres game by my very kind uncle. But - two and a half hours before the first face off, what are the odds I could find a babysitter for my three children? You would think the odds would be pretty good considering I live within a mile of my entire family. Nope. Not a babysitter to be had. Not a one. So with tears in my eyes, I admitted defeat, took one for the team and told Chris to invite a buddy to the game. It killed me to miss the chance to see the playoffs in person. KILLED me. Sigh.

I put the kiddies to bed and watched the game at home, by myself, while I munched chocolate chip cookies and drank a corona with lime. An odd combination, but it worked for me and my pisser of a mood.

Dandelions are Flowers Too...

When I picked Brennan up from school yesterday, he handed me a clump of wilted dandelions he had clenched tightly in his fist.

“I picked ‘em for you Momma,” he said with a wide grin as he gave me a hug and handed me the sad, sad dandelions. The teacher smiled and told me Brennan had picked the flowers during their morning walk. He clutched those dandelions all through the morning, all through lunch, during nap, while eating his snack and while he patiently waited for me in the afternoon. The dandelions were crushed and pretty sad as flowers go, but they were the most beautiful buds I had ever been given. I could not have loved them more.

Sidenote: Take that you horrible, mean, elitist neighborhood association that complained because we may have had a few dandelions littering our lawn! See? Dandelions can be beautiful too.

Day Two

Day two is easier. I loved Griffin up this morning, but while I was sad when I left him, I managed not one tear. I confess to a tear or two mid-day, but it's still progress.

Only one day to go in my work "week!" And then I get four in a row with my boys. How can I ask for anything more?

Lawn-gate

We moved about a year ago. Our new house is only a mile or so away from our old house, but it is a little newer and within walking distance to my entire family. After a year (A YEAR!) of offers and counteroffers, walking away from the table and back again, we negotiated a fantastic deal on our lovely home.

Our lovely home sits in a pretty nice neighborhood. A neighborhood of much larger homes and fancier lifestyles than ours. Our lovely little home is the smallest and most modest of the lot of homes.

Our neighborhood has a mandatory neighborhood association. The association requires that we pay dues so we can enjoy the private park and pond, and attend such fun activities as the neighborhood family picnic and women’s Christmas cocktail party. (I was giving birth during the Christmas party last year, but I so can’t WAIT to rock out at next years!)

Apparently, the association also has rules and regulations as to how we keep and maintain our home. We did not know this until Saturday when the Board Association President gave us a nice friendly call to discuss the state of our lawn. Yep. Our lawn.

Do we have trash strewn about the grass? Nope. Do we have a car without tires up on blocks in our driveway? No. We just haven’t put forth “enough effort” into the landscaping and maintenance of our lawn. We may have a couple dandelions or so. (Hey – Aidan thinks they are flowers and he likes to pick them for me! I keep them in a vase on the kitchen counter.) And our lawn may not be as green or as well fertilized as our neighbors (who all have professional landscaping services!), but it’s not overgrown or embarrassing. I swear.

We were told we have to put forth “more effort” into the landscaping of our lawn. Our lawn should look as nice or more so than our neighbors. Are these people truly, really, for real?

It’s official. We are SO the white trash of our neighborhood. While this has kept me in a constant state of laughter and general hilarity, Chris does not find it funny in the least. He has been weeding, mulching and planting pretty much non stop since Saturday.

As payback? I am so going to be the drunkard dancing on the tables at the ladies’ Christmas social. That should really set the tongues wagging.

Day One

I snuggled Griffin a little longer this morning, gave him extra kisses and love, but it still did not diminish the guilt I felt at leaving my sweet little baby today. His eyes seemed sad, as if he sensed something was up, but it could just be my projection of maternal guilt.

I cried in the driveway, cried in the car, cried in the bathroom and cried in my office. I also cried while pumping - breast milk mixed with some tears.

I made it through my first meeting of the day. The meeting was supposed to last all of forty five minutes, but went for two hours. It was at one hour, fifty minutes that I remembered I forgot to wear breast pads. I spent the next ten minutes of the meeting sneaking glances at my own chest to ensure that breast milk wasn't leaking all over my shirt. At the first sign the meeting was adjourned, I ran out of the conference room, arms crossed tightly across my chest, seeking the safety of my office and breast pump.

Mid pump and cry fest, I realized I forgot ice packs for my pump cooler. Sigh. Now what? Well, I am storing my breast milk in the fridge for my practice group. How's that for family friendly policies, huh? Let's hope no one mistakes the milk for a refreshing mid-day drink.

I miss my baby. But I know I need to work, both for my sanity and my family's financial survival. This does not make me less sad. This does not make me feel less guilty. I guess it is all part of being a working mom.

P.S. Yes, I do have two other children, but while I love them both dearly, they had no idea that there was anything special or out of the ordinary about today. It was a school day, just like any other school day for most of their lives. The only difference from the last five or six months? I came downstairs all dressed in my professional working clothes instead of my regular morning attire of stained, pilling flannel pjs. Aidan even took a break from watching "HigglyTown Heroes" to comment on how much he "loved" my pearls.

Last Day

Today is my last day of maternity leave. I don't want to leave Griffin tomorrow. I want to go back to work. How is it possible to feel such conflicting emotions at once?

DENTIST FROM HELL PART TWO: The Aftermath

Aidan peers at me over his cereal bowl, "Mom, why did the Mad Dentist have such a big mask on?"

Me: "Mad dentist, who?"

Aidan: "You know, Mom - the Mad Dentist from the bad dentist's place?"

Me: Thinking to myself, oh, shit - this will just never die, will it? Then in my understanding mommy voice, "Oh, that dentist."

Aidan: "Why did he have such a big mask on?"

Me: Trying to come up with a safe, nice, puppies and rainbows type of answer, but after only two sips of coffee and a brain muddled with sleep deprivation, I can only come up with : "Um, hmmm, well..."

Aidan jumps into the silence with a thoughtful: "Is it because of the blood mom? I bet Mad Dentist wears the big face mask because of all the blood."

Brennan chimes in : "I hate the dentis! I no wanna go to the dentis!"

I hang my head and know that when my children's teeth rot and fall out because of their staunch refusal to ever go to a dentist again, I will deliver those teeth right to the doorstep of that damn "Mad Dentist".

DENTIST FROM HELL

No one likes to go to the dentist. Hell, I HATE to go to the dentist. And even more than I hate going to the dentist, I feared taking my children to the dentist for the first time. I knew it was a requirement of parenthood, but I dreaded it just the same. (This is somewhat apparent given that Aidan is four and well, (sigh) he had not yet been to the dentist. I know, I know - I am hanging my motherly head in abject shame. SHAME ON ME. Bad mother, bad!)

So today, both Aidan and Brennan had appointments at the dentist. I made appointments at a regular dentist who assured me they also performed pediatric dentistry services. I thought this would work fine. Who needs a pediatric dentist's office? Heh. Rookie mom move. You do really need a pediatric dentist or at least an office that doesn't have their collective head up their giant ass.

We arrive and wait twenty minutes in the beautifully appointed waiting room with antique furniture. Toys? Nada. Reading materials? Sure - some lovely, fancy schmancy coffee table books including one on the history of James Bond. (I have no idea either.)

We are finally ushered into the back of the office. But, instead of bringing us right to our dental "cubicle", the hygienist would like to give us a tour of the office. Um, okay? I didn't know what to say or do in response to this. So, off we went - me, a scared shitless two year old, a pretty nervous four year old and an infant carrier with infant that weighed about ninety pounds or so. The first part of the tour? We got to watch an actual procedure being performed by a dentist. A real life actual procedure - needles and all. BIG needle. BIG HUGE NEEDLE being inserted into a patient's gums. And now both children are clutching my legs in terror as we continue onto the tour. I am not even sure how I managed to walk - with Aidan on one side holding onto my leg, Brennan grabbing my other leg and me maneuvering the infant carrier. But, there's more! We stop the tour so the hygienist can take five minutes to drone on about the wonders of Zoom Teeth Whitening treatments. The kids look like they are about to completely melt down and this woman is trying to sell me teeth whitening. I wanted to haul off and smack her. Really. There should be a special place in hell for people like this. If not hell, then at least purgatory.

Finally, we make it to our dental cubby. The hygienist points out the chair in the center of the cubby and tells Aidan to hop on up into the chair so they can get to work. Then she turns to me and tells me that I have to wait outside of the cubby. Aidan's head snapped so fast to look at me that I honestly thought it was going to come off of his body. I was honestly speechless. He's FOUR. FOUR!!!!! NEVER BEEN TO A DENTIST. Are you serious? Truly? She was. She honestly believed that he was going to just hop into the chair and happily have his teeth inspected by complete strangers. Hee, funny lady.

I told her that I was going to stand by Aidan during the treatments. The hygienist then told me it was "some sort of state law or something." But she "wasn't sure, 'cause she's new." I told her in the politest tone I could manage, that I wasn't going to wait outside of the cubby. She looked nervous and left for reinforcements. The kids took this as a sign to just completely and totally lose it. So they cried hysterically, at full volume, in perfect harmony. It was a miracle of miracles that Griffin did not join them.

A neighboring dentist took pity on me and decided to help me comfort my children. Only he forgot to take off his face mask. My children are already screaming in fear and confusion when a tall, strange man with a large face mask leans down to try and talk to them. He looked like something out of a horror movie. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry right along with them.

Then another dentist joins us. Wait - she's our dentist! She tells me that she can not allow me to stay in the cubby with the kids because it is "her rule" and "sometimes mothers can be part of the problem." Oh, yes she did. I gave her a smile and asked her if she had children. She said no. I smiled at her again and said, "I didn't think so." And then we left.

My anger and frustration at that dental office can not be adequately expressed. Aidan can't stop talking about the needles. Brennan keeps muttering to me, "Momma, I hate the dentis! Hate the dentis!" Great. If I thought the dentist was going to be hard before this all happened, now I have my work cut out for me.

I took them out for ice cream to dull all of our pain. What's a few more sugar induced cavities, right?

Mmmmmm.. cheesecake!

I had lunch today at the Cheesecake Factory. I have to say, I am not a fan of chain restaurants and will avoid them like the plague. This is easy to do in Buffalo with our wide variety of damn good dining options. But today, I hit our brand spankin' new Cheesecake Factory because well, it's cheesecake people. Cheesecake! How can that possibly be a bad thing, right? Cheesecake! (I like to say it about as much as I like to eat it.)

And speaking of chain restaurants and cheese, come to find out that Buffalo is also getting their very own Melting Pot. Cheese! Because how can melted cheese be a bad thing? And melted chocolate? Oh, the possibilities are endless.

The chains are discovering Buffalo. And my very favorite chain set to be open here this week? SEPHORA! It opens Friday and I am in love. I literally had my nose pressed up against the glass of the closed store today. I could see Philosophy and my Amazing Grace! I could see pretty little brushes and tubes of goop!

I literally barely wear make up and I am more excited for this store than I should be. I just may come out of the store all foundationed and fake eyelashed to the hilt. And then I'll go eat Cheesecake! Or Melted Cheese! Hmmmm, what did I say about hating chains again?

I'm Fine

I thought I was fine about going back to work. I like my job. I love my part time schedule - three days a week is perfect for me. I love the people I work with at my job - both my clients and colleagues. I like doing something for me. So, I'm fine.

My best friend Diane called me today to see if I was concerned about going back to work in one week. Are you feeling okay?, she asked. I'm fine, I assured her. I like to work. I need to work and so, I'm fine.

My mom called today, upset, because she will be overseas when I go back to work next Tuesday, and therefore, unable to call to make sure I am okay. I'll be fine, I told her. Fine. I love my schedule and my job. Griffin will be okay. I'll be fine.

My friend Christine asked me to go to lunch tomorrow to celebrate my last days of leave and cheer me on to work. More concern, but I knew, I'd be fine. I have gone through this twice before, with Aidan and then Brennan. I'm a pro. I'll be fine.

I felt fine as I got dinner ready tonight. Griffin was in his exersaucer chomping on a toy with his shiny new teeth. I was singing along to my ipod as I tossed a salad. I looked over at Griffin and saw his eyes follow me. They followed me to the fridge and back again. They smiled as I sang. They continued to watch me, reassured that I was close to him. And then, just like that, I wasn't fine at all. An ache bubbled up inside of me. Tears welled up in my eyes and I cried. I picked Griffin up and held him close to me. I sang more softly and slow danced with him. My heart broke a little. I guess I am not fine. Not fine at all.

The Countdown...

In one week, I head back to work. One week. Today and tomorrow are my last days alone with Griffin. After that, he becomes one of the "pack."

Where did six months go?

One week. One sad, sad week.