Last Thursday I dropped my family off at home and went to pick up a prescription. I was gone about ten minutes and when I walked back in my door, my children were all sitting on the couch, watching TV. Monkeyboy was shoeless, and one of his shoes was sitting on the floor as if it had been casually kicked off. I looked, but never found the other one. For days, I looked under furniture, behind things, through my car, etc. The shoe was nowhere to be found. Three times I asked the other kids if they had any idea where the shoe could be. They didn’t, and I believed this because I couldn’t see how one shoe would be right next to him in the living room and the other in another room. Silly mommy.

I refused to go buy another pair as these were almost-brand-new shoes. I mean, the shoe had to be somewhere, right? Everyday I sent him to school in his red crocs that look like Lightening McQueen and that make him fall down when he runs, feeling increasingly guilty.

Finally, toward the end of the week, I broke down and bought Monkeyboy a brand new pair of shoes. (He calls them his “AMAZING Spiderman” shoes and they’re very cute, but that is beside the point.) We stopped at the store on the way home from work and day care and got the shoes. Almost as soon as we walked in the door at home, Princess walked up and said, “Hey, I know where Monkeyboy’s other shoe is.” Apparently, it was in her room. She took it in there to kill a spider.

I am not normally one to post bad stuff about a company, but I am infuriated, and I have to share this.

Recently, I became aware that my entire family is on Facebook. When I say “entire family,” I mean my mom, brother, cousins, uncles, aunts, second-cousins. So since I like my family most of the time, I thought it would be cool to have an account on Facebook so I could be in “the club.” So I went on and tried to register for an account. I got an error message that said my name was rejected. Understanding that my first name often gets me mistaken for a company, I sent an email to the administrators for help. They sent back this message:

“Please reply to this email to verify that you are the owner of the account that you referenced in your Facebook support inquiry. This security step must be completed before Facebook can respond to your inquiry. We apologize for any inconvenience.

Please avoid creating an account with a different name while we are processing your request.”

So I replied to that message. Then I got this message:

“Facebook profiles are meant to represent a single individual. Groups, clubs, businesses, and other types of organizations are not permitted to maintain an account.

If you would like to use Facebook to represent your organization, we offer a Groups application. Facebook Groups allow users with common interests to come together to express objectives, discuss issues, post photos, etc. If you have a personal Facebook account, you can create a group from the top of the Groups page.”

So I replied to that message, assuring the company that I am, in fact, just an individual person. I was already reaching the end of my patience. Today I got this message:

“Facebook does not allow users to sign up with certain names that may be fake or associated with fake accounts. While we realize this verification method may prevent some users with legitimate names from initially registering, we feel this policy is currently the best method to prevent against malicious and fake accounts on the site.

We can help you regain access to your account, but we will need additional information. Please send a scanned image or digital picture of a (e.g., driver’s license) to idrequests@facebook.com in order to confirm your first and last name. Please make sure that your name, date of birth, and photo are all clearly visible and that any personal information that is not needed to verify your name (e.g., social security number) is blacked out. Keep in mind that we will permanently delete your ID from our servers once your name has been verified.

Finally, you should make sure to copy and paste all of our previous correspondence into your message when you reply. Once we have received this information, we will be able to assist you further. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.”

I’m sorry but are you freaking kidding me?! I have to scan and then Email my license?!! Should I also mail in a blood sample?! The sad thing is that I will do this, because I really feel left out of the conversations my family is having. So this stupid policy will stay in place. Arrrggghhh!!!

Mother’s Day is such a strange holiday. Everyone has different ideas about the “right” way to spend it. It has always made me think of flowers. My gramma loved flowers and I spent a couple of very special Mother’s Days planting flowers with my mom. Because of that I tend to equate the holiday with planting flowers.

I have never attempted this activity with Monkeyboy. This year, I decided, would be the year to try it out. He’s four, I told myself, and capable of tasks that require a little longer attention span. I told him we were going to plant flowers, and he was psyched.

Saturday morning, I got some flowers and a big Hibiscus bush/plant/thing (I didn’t inherit the knowledge of this stuff from Gramma). The plan was to clear out this big round, bricked-in place in the middle of my front yard and plant the Hibiscus there. There were some ugly bushes in it. So I tried to explain the process to Monkeyboy, but he was mostly interested in hitting stuff with the little shovel, playing with worms, and driving his toy police car through the dirt. It was freezing, and the going was slow. Finally, we got the whole thing cleared out. Now we were going to have the exciting part, planting the Hibiscus. I got the big shovel and dug into the ground in the center of the circle…and hit a giant tree stump about a foot deep. I gave up for the day.

Sunday, I moved on and planted the rest of the flowers in a different flowerbed. Monkeyboy played with worms, found spiders and centipedes and tortured what he insists on calling “Poly Rollies.” He also rode his bike, rode a scooter and played in the van.  He touched one flower in the two hours we were outside.

Somehow, I had pictured this as a much more tender and touching experience. Maybe if I had a girl?

Gramma B.:

You were the only grandparent that ever mattered in my life. Thank you for sharing wisdom, laughter and joy with us for so many years. I will miss you so much, but knowing you and Pam are together comforts me.

Everything seems to be happening so fast lately, I am having a terrible time keeping up with day-to-day stuff. Our house is a pit, I know each child is letting go various things they know they should be doing (for example, I know Prankster is not brushing his teeth the four times daily his orthodontist has prescribed), the van needs new brake pads and the dogs need shots and grooming.

It is that time of year when the school year is wrapping up, baseball is in full swing, birthdays and holidays are never-ending and every person in my house seems to have a severe case of cabin fever. I always start to feel overwhelmed at this time of year. Days aren’t long enough to get everything done. The slightest thing can set everyone on the path to Cranky Town.

Soon, the kids will be home all day, destroying the house and eating us bankrupt. Summer is completely different experience with kids. It’s still good, it’s just…not the lazy, relaxing season it used to be, I guess.

To top it all off, my next class starts this week. “Financial Law.” Yeah, that will be a barrel of laughs. At least the sun is shining, the birds singing today.

I’m going to tell this story about last night, and then I am going directly to bed. By the end, you’ll see why.

9:30-10:00: I finally put Monkeyboy to bed. He gets up four times between 9:30 and 10:00, and each time I manage to get him settled back into his bed. I fall asleep before my head hit the pillow the last time, and it was a deep slumber.

Midnight: I wake up with Monkeyboy wrapped around me, and we are both drenched with pee. When I say drenched, I want you to understand that the quantity of fluid was remarkable for his almost-four-year-old body. I could have wrung my clothes out. Anyway, I get up, get the wet clothes off of us and dry ones put on, and we go to Monkeyboy’s bed to sleep. Monkeyboy is barely conscious for any of this. However, in his sleep, his little hand continues to find and pull on my hair. This is a strange behavior of his that he’s had all his life. Touching people’s hair comforts him. Anyway it wasn’t comforting me.

1:00: I give up and go to my bedroom. My side of the bed is still drenched and Bucket is still snoozing happily away on his side, which I shall henceforth refer to as “the island.” So, exhausted, I grab my pillow and curl up on the floor.

1:20: Monkeyboy comes in and curls up next to me. The hair pulling commences.

1:40: Bucket gets up to go to the bathroom and almost steps on my head.

2:00 Prankster comes in. He had been pretty ill all evening and he has started throwing up again. Inside, he’s still just a little boy and he wants his daddy. After explaining to Prankster and Bucket why they both aren’t going to fit on the island, they both lay on the floor on the side of the bed. We all start to doze.

Every ten minutes or so Prankster wakes up feeling yucky. He’s loudest when he’s sleepy and sick. For anyone that knows him, you understand that he’s loud to begin with.

3:00: I have realized that I am too old to sleep on a floor. Of all things, my hips hurt. And, frankly, I have a headache from all the hair-pulling. Then I realize what an idiot I am. The island is empty! So I make my move, leaving Monkey boy on the floor asleep. Ah, bliss. A warm, dry bed (as long as I lay still in one spot), and no one is touching me in any way. I begin to sleep almost immediately.

3:30: Monkeyboy makes his way onto the island. But first he trips over Prankster and Bucket, knocking his head into Prankster’s braces-filled mouth. Yelping ensues. I pull Monkeyboy into bed and leave Prankster to Bucket. I can only do so much here.

Of course, the hair pulling starts again immediately, but I’m so tired it doesn’t even matter. I fall deeply asleep.

5 a.m. (twenty minutes before what I consider to be my FIRST alarm):  I awaken to Monkeyboy pulling on my face. As soon as my eyes are open, he says, “Mommy, get up. It’s time to play.”

Dumb thing #1: I have been studying all day and I finally took the practice test. I failed. My test is Tuesday, so I have one more day to get smart.

Dumb thing #2: Bucket and I went to see “The Watchmen” last night. I usually really enjoy Marvel movies. (I’m sorry, dearest brother, for what I’m about to say here.) This was one of the longest, dumbest movies I have ever seen. A total waste of three hours.

Dumb thing #3: I have been home for two weeks and still haven’t downloaded my Cancun pictures off the camera. I suck.

Yeah, it’s been one of those weekends…

I am blogging this from our resort in Mexico. When I get home, I know things will be incredibly busy and I’ll want to spend time with the kids and not be spending time blogging. Not to mention my other list of “things to worry about AFTER our trip.”

Anyway, mostly I want to say that this entire list has been complete paradise. I highly recommend going to a full service, all inclusive resort like this one. I have never been pampered like this in all my life and I don’t know how I will adjust to life in the real world after being this spoiled!

And to leave you, because I have to go get ready for our Farewell Reception (sniff!), in no particular order, My “Top Five Cancun Memories:”

1. When our group was going through Customs in the Mexican airport, they had the dogs sniffing all of our bags. The dog started jumping all over one of the ladies in our group. The lady, who I’d guess at about 65, was clearly terrified of the dog. Turned out she had a banana in her bag, which was quickly confiscated.

2. There is a jacuzzi tub in our room. The first night we were here we decided to try it out. I was putting stuff away while Bucket was getting the tub going. After a few minutes I realized I didn’t hear water running yet for some reason. I walked over to the tub, where Bucket looked completely lost. He looked at me, and I swear I’m not making this up, he said, “So are we supposed to put ocean water in it or what?” I’ve been laughing about that the whole trip.

3. Zip lining UPSIDE DOWN. Nuff said.

4. Sitting on a couch outside the hotel, snuggled up with my Bucket, drinking froo froo girlie drinks and listening to the sound of the ocean.

5. Bucket trying to get a plain, unsweetened iced tea. He’s been trying the whole trip. He’s gotten sweet tea, long island iced tea and once, he came very close by getting unsweetened tea with absolutely no ice.

Talk to you again when I’m back in the States.

We leave in about 30 hours. I am equal parts nervous and excited. I have never been away from Monkeyboy this long, and we have never been out of contact with any of the kids for any amount of time. Once I get there, I’ll be fine, but the leaving is kind of tearing me up.

In fact, I called Monkeyboy’s dad today and made him make all kinds of promises about how well he’ll be taking care of my sweet little Monkeyboy. Likewise, Bucket has made out a schedule down to the minute and sent it to his ex-wife to make sure that all the big kids get everything they need. We are, above all else, parents. And we’re happy that way.

Still, I’m thinking I can get over this feeling once I am sitting on the beach in 80+ degree weather

That’s a nod to one of my favorite Tim McGraw songs, by the way. If you aren’t familiar, I highly recommend looking it up.

Anyway, we’ve had a lot of very stressful days lately. Kid stress, job stress, family stress, even a death. This all makes the treat of our trip to Cancun all the sweeter. We leave Wednesday. Our cell phones won’t work there, which is equal parts terrifying and exhiliratingly liberating. It is 80+ degrees during the day in Cancun right now.

Pitcher just walked in the door. He’s on the phone, yelling and cussing at someone. That’s why God made Mexico.