My house is mad at me

It would appear that my house does not want me to leave it. How else can I explain what I encountered last night? I went into my laundry room to do yet another load of laundry and found the cabinet that hangs above my washer and dryer had jumped off the wall and was lying on top of the washer and dryer! You know that cabinet--the one that holds the bleach, refill bottles of Windex and Fantastick, vacuum cleaner bags, and other laundry room essentials. It seems a little coincidental to me that, after being bolted to the wall just fine for at least the 12 and a half years that we have lived in this house (and probably many more years previous to that), it would just topple off the wall the night before our realtor had scheduled an open house. Don't you agree? I can't take this kind of stress. If this is what my house will do to show me how upset it is, what will my friends and family do?

Reason #5 Why I Will Never Have a Dog

Some combos are great. Peanut butter and jelly. Pomegranates and Martinis. Ti and Vo. They all bring a smile to your face, right? This weekend I "experienced" a combo that will wipe the smile right off your face. A combo so awful I can barely type the words. Must. Type. Through. The. Pain. Here it is: Uggs and dog poop. Yes, it's true. I can personally attest to the fact that that is a combo from hell. You always know the minute it happens, don't you? There's no mistaking that mushy feeling. Suffice it to say that this incident was like my own personal Fear Factor (surpassed only by the time I was waiting for a friend of mine in the vet's office and the door kept opening and more and more dogs came in to join me in the little tiny waiting room--but I digress). What did I do to upset the karma gods, I wondered, as I THOROUGHLY washed each and every little Ugg crevice on my boot? How could this happen to me in a house full of dog lovers? Someone else's house, that is. Someone else's front lawn, I mean. I guess it teaches me a good lesson or two. Stay on the pathway. Keep your head down and your boots held high. I'm going to take this whole incident as a learning experience.

You'd better sit down for this one.

I had to. Well, I don't know how to say this exactly, but I'm just going to go ahead and say it. We're moving. Yes, you heard that right. We're moving. I know--I still can't believe it myself. The possibility has been out there for the last couple of years, but you know how when you hear about something for a long time and it doesn't happen, you sort of don't believe it ever will? That's how this has been. Mr. Minivan has been telling me (and anyone who will listen to him) that this was in the future, and now the future seems to have arrived.

His business needs to relocate. We are headed west to the city of angels. La-La Land. Los Angeles. Which, I might add, is a fun place to visit--but to actually live there? Don't those people get bored by all that sun? Here in the Midwest we actually appreciate a nice day.

For the last few weeks I have been very busy getting rid of some of the crap in my house--I mean donating some of my gently used items to charity, and throwing out some less than gently used items. My garage is so clean you could eat off the floor. Well, not really. And my house is such a vision of cleanliness and organization that my children think they're in the wrong house. The "For Sale" sign is up on the front yard. I guess it's really happening. People I barely know are telling me they are going to miss me--my mailman and the dry cleaner. My cleaning lady of 13 years started crying the other day because she's upset I'm leaving. People I do know want to spend time with me--"let's go for coffee"--or in my case, a Diet Coke. I have now become a reason to throw a party. My parents are putting up a brave face and are trying to avoid the reality of all this by going on a Hawaiian cruise. It's very sad and very exciting all at the same time.

Happy Birthday to Boy #2!!

Today is my son's birthday. He is nine. Every year, around November 1st, I always have great intentions. "I'm going to plan his party now. I'm going to think of some great presents for him. I'm not going to get distracted by Thanksgiving and be scrambling after Turkey Day to plan a party in December." This was going to be the year. But guess what? Last night I was at Target at 9:30 at night filling a cart with a bunch of crap--I mean, some nice presents--so Boy #2 would have something to open today. I booked a bowling party for him today, too--the second weekend in December. What is my problem? Why does this whole month fly by every year?

Actually, I think Boy #2 had a pretty nice day. He got some nice presents including a Spongebob cap, a Ripley's Believe it or Not book, and a label maker. Nothing says "Happy Birthday, kid" like office supplies! He got many more presents from other friends and relatives, including 3 pounds of rubber bands to make a giant rubber band ball--but that's a whole 'nother story. He got a giant cookie cake to share with his class at school, and dinner out at one of those Japanese places where they cook on the table in front of you. All in all, a pretty good birthday.

Next year I start planning in October.

More Vegas stuff

Yesterday morning I almost walked right into Robert Kennedy Jr. when I went down to the lobby. I told him I really enjoyed his speech at the show the night before. I had to say something, right? Then last night at the very funny hour and 20 minute Jon Stewart show I sat three seats away from a bearded and corduroy-wearing Jeremy Piven. He is another pint-size celebrity, no taller than my 5'6" and very slight. He must have had a busy weekend because he took a little catnap during the performance!

This morning when we were leaving the bellhop told me he had helped Dave Chappelle with his luggage and he gave him a $50 tip. I broke the news to him that the day could only go downhill from there.

Now we're back in Chicago enjoying the 30 degree temperature difference. It's fun to go away, but it's always good to go home.

What happens in Vegas doesn't always stay in Vegas....

FROM LAS VEGAS--Last night I spent the night with Leonardo DiCaprio, Tom Hanks, Dustin Hoffman, Steve Martin, Ray Romano, and Robert F. Kennedy Jr. (whom I prefer to think of as "Bobby"}. It's not what you think. Mr. Minivan and I are at the HBO Comedy Festival in Las Vegas, and last night we went to the taping of "Earth to America", a collection of stand-up comedy and music with an overall theme of global warming. And in case you're confused, all the participants are against it. Last night's show really made me think about this issue, which I must confess, I don't do a lot--think about global warming, I mean, not thinking in general. This planet called Earth has limited resources, and we should all be doing our part to protect them. If you watch the show this Sunday night on TBS, people like those above as well as Larry David, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Faith Hill, Tim McGraw, Bill Maher, and astronaut Jim Lovell will explain it all to you in a very entertaining way. Check your local listings...

After the taping we went to a private party thrown by HBO. We saw Bill Maher (very short, with a huge head), Bobby Kennedy Jr. (I restrained myself from asking him if he was the one who had a fling with the babysitter) [NOTE--he's not--that was his brother Michael], a man dressed head to toe in a Chicago Cubs uniform with Dempster on the back of it (Ryan Dempster IS a Chicago Cub, but if it was him, why would he be in full uniform in Las Vegas in November, and if it wasn't him, why?). We saw and met Larry David, who looks and sounds exactly like he does on his show. I couldn't help myself, I told him he was responsible for the bags under my eyes from staying up late and watching TIVO-ed episodes of his show.

After we left the party, we walked through the casino, where we saw a huge crowd of people gathered in one area, watching something. We got a little closer and saw that Tom Hanks (slicked back long hair, what is he thinking? I hope it's for a movie and not his own personal choice) and Faith Hill (tall, slim, gorgeous, tons of hair, and even more tons of eye makeup) were at a craps table surrounded by many large, beefy security men without smiles. We kept walking.

When we got back to our room we found a gift from the elves at TBS, a Polaroid camera. Just another night in Vegas...

Dropping The Ball

Tonight Boy #1 made a simple request. He wanted to go to the local high school football game ("Everybody's going, Mom!") with some friends. A simple request, right? Here's the catch. These friends were getting dropped off. At the game. Alone. They are 11. Yes, 11. Is it me? When I was 11 a big night included watching "The Brady Bunch" and getting to stay up til 10:00. I don't understand it. How can parents think it's OK for 11-year-olds to be out at night unsupervised? Big-time fumble, in my opinion. When I told Boy #1 he could not go unless an adult was going too and then offered to go to the game with him and Boy #2, it turned out he was actually fine not going. He was a little tired and was perfectly happy to go home and watch TV with his brother. I think he just wanted to know that he could go if he wanted to.

What's next, weekends in Vegas when they're 12?

It's an epidemic...

My brother just called He is missing his prescription sunglasses. He wants me to keep my eyes open for them around my house. Is it an epidemic? Is this some hellish curse I have brought upon my entire family? What does it all mean? Maybe it's time for Lasik...

More glasses problems....

As you may recall, I lost my prescription sunglasses a while ago. I finally got myself over to the eye doctor, got a new prescription, and after endless hours in the glasses store, with my friend to help, and several second, third, and fourth opinions from store employees, I selected a new pair of sunglasses and a new pair of regular glasses. I especially liked the regular glasses. They are designer, not my usual 2 for $99 kind of glasses, and a bit hip and funky. Think dark, think Charlotte from Sex and the City, oh, heck, think Prada. So I pick up the glasses and I love them. Everyone notices them and compliments me, my mahjong group, moms from school, my friends. Even Boy #1, who notices everything, likes them. Everyone likes them. Everyone except.....Mr. Minivan. "I hate them," he says. "They overpower your face. I like your old ones." "I paid over $300 for them, and I like them," I said. "You'll get used to them," I told him.

I wore them for three days and noticed that not only were my eyes watering a bit, but I was dizzy. The kind of dizzy that you expect when you've had a few drinks, NOT a few Diet Cokes with Lime. My mind went a little crazy. I tried to remember all the medical conditions that would cause dizziness. Mr. Minivan told me I was nuts. "So you assume right away it's a dire medical problem, huh? Maybe it's your new prescription." As much as I hate to admit it, he could be right. So today I went back to the eye doctor to have the glasses checked. He told me he had underprescribed or overprescribed or something like that--hoping to get my vision a "little crisper." He told me he would adjust the prescription closer to my old prescription because that little bit of crispness was apparently making me a bit woozy. Also told me something about the base curve and a face wrap--for the glasses, not me. I have it all written down. Tomorrow I will go back to the glasses place and have them remake the lenses.

Unfortunately for Mr. Minivan, I'm keeping the frames.....

Guest Blogger: Boy #1!!!

Mrs. Minivan can't think of anything so she's having ME write so she won't look bad. Since I'm blogging I will write about what the public wants, and what the public wants is..........A CHICAGO TITLE!!!!!! Most people, including myself, are Cubs fans in Illinois. Even though I'm a Cubs fan I want a professional sports title in Illinois, and that's why I'm offering my support to the White Sox by going to Game #1 of the World Series!!!


This is all I have to say until I blog again so I bid you adieu!

Boy #1

No, I have NOT gone into the Witness Protection Program!

Bad case of writer's blog here. No excuses. I'll be back soon.

Heard Around Town

I heard two women talking at Costco a couple of months ago:

One to the other: "My son's at camp and my daughter's a bitch....she's 15...."

Heard at the grocery store the other day:

"I bought these jeans two years ago. They're the only thing I've ever bought that was on sale."

Huh?

Dad update

Less than four weeks ago, my dad had surgery to repair an aortic aneurysm. Recovery from such a major surgery will take a while, but he feels better than he did a week ago and way better than he did two weeks ago. We went for a short walk today and within a three-minute time span this was what he said: "I think I'll go to the pancake house and have a Dutch Baby for lunch." "Maybe I'll go to the library". "I'm going to play bridge this weekend." "Next week I'm going to drive my car." Whoa, Dad, slow down!!! I think it's safe to say he's feeling better.

Sweating Soccer Mom

So today I really fell off the deep end. Boy #2 had a soccer game and I had to help Mr. Minivan with some work stuff. I asked the mom of one of his teammates (who is also one of his classmates) if she could give him a ride home. This other mom, who is a lovely lady, by the way, said it was no problem. The game was scheduled from 3 to 4 and is no more than 10 minutes away from our house. I did my work and sent a few emails and then glanced at my watch. 4:32!! I started to wonder where he was. I realized I did not have this mom's cell phone number and called her home number, hoping she would not answer, hoping that maybe her outgoing message would contain her cell number, or that a helpful husband or child would answer and give me the number. No answer. Then I remembered that a friend of mine worked with her and might have her number.

I called my friend and she did have the number. I then proceeded to leave two slightly panicked messages on the cell phone, which, of course, went straight to voice mail! "Hi, I was just calling to see where you are. It's after 4:30 and I'm getting a little worried." By this time my imagination had gone into overdrive and I pictured myself arriving at the soccer field and finding....no one. I grabbed my car keys and left Boy #1 at home with the portable phone in his hand, instructing him to call me immediately when (if?) Boy #2 arrived. I ran out the door and started to drive to the soccer field. Time now is 4:45. I am crazed. I drive up the highway, looking at both the road ahead of me and the cars traveling the opposite direction on the other side. I think I see her car, but I'm not sure. Could be an illusion. I call home and tell Boy #1 to go downstairs and open the garage door and stand in the garage with the phone. "He's home, Mom. I just heard the garage door open," he says. I breathe a sigh of relief and head for home. The demons and dangers lurking in my imagination, in every mom's imagination, have receded. I pull into the garage, go into the kitchen, and see a flushed and tired Boy #2 drinking a Frostee. "How was the game?" I asked. "Why were you so late?" "The game ran a little late and we stopped at Wendy's," he answered, happily slurping.

I called the other mother and told her to disregard the messages on her cell. "I just got myself a little worked up," I told her, "I should have gotten your cell phone number." I could tell she was a little offended. We had been in parallel Mom Universes--me trying to make sure my boy was safe, and she getting the soccer players an icy treat. We were both being good moms, each caught up in our own moment in time.

I know one thing, though, in the future I'll get a cell phone number and make sure the phone is ON.

They're Dropping Like Flies

First Renee and Kenny, now Tori and Charlie. How can the rest of us hope to make marriage work? And you know these things always come in threes. Who's next, Julia and Danny? Ben and Jen? Or, dare I say it? Britney and Kevin? Pretend you didn't hear that last one. That would be unthinkable.

Renee and Kenny have only been married four months. That's barely enough time to have changed their vacuum cleaner bag, much less their minds. And it's not like they have the stresses we mere mortals have, like making the mortgage payment on time, keeping up with the laundry, and finding time to stop at the grocery store after work. They have people to do all that. I guess it just shows that, even if you have no money issues, marriage is tough. You'd think Renee and Kenny would give it a bit more than four months, but what do we know? Here's what came to my mind when I first heard the news........ Do you think they will return the wedding presents they received?

UPDATE: There may be hope yet. Charlie Sheen and Denise Richards might be getting back together.

UPDATE #2: OMG!!! I can't believe I forgot the Mother of all Breakups--Brad and Jen. I guess it was too painful for me to think about all over again. I'm in such denial...

PTA Overload

I'm exhausted. The bags under my eyes have their own bags. Yesterday was a two-PTA-meeting day, and let me tell you, it's like running a marathon without those little packets of goo. The first PTA meeting of the year is usually the one with the best attendance. The moms new to the school want to see what it's all about, others want to see what's going on, some want to get involved, and of course, at every school there is the core group of Moms Who Do All The Work. The first one was actually not so bad. It was at Boy #1's middle school. I went for the first three reasons. It's too soon to know if I'll fall into the last category. There were about 30 people there, including the principal and the assistant principal, both new to their positions. They are so young I had to restrain myself from asking them if they babysat. The budget for the year was discussed THOROUGHLY and approved. Upcoming activities and programs were also discussed. I like the feeling of knowing what is going on at school and being involved. I also like passing notes back and forth with the friend sitting next to me. It really felt like I belonged in middle school.

Then last night, the PTA meeting at Boy #2"s elementary school. Let me describe it to you this way. A hot and humid night. A sweltering cafeteria. Several families decided it would be a good idea to bring their babies and preschoolers, so there were about 6 LOUD children running around providing singing, dancing, and whining distraction. But wait, there's more. Several horrified kindergarten moms, thinking all the meetings are like this one. I assured them that they are not. Oh, yeah, several of the women doing most of the talking are low-talkers, so between that and the dancing children, who knows what any of us agreed to. It was sort of like a Seinfeld episode. We were only missing the puffy shirt.

Reason #4 Why I Will Never Have a Dog

Imagine the horror. Imagine my shock. Imagine for yourself. Did you know that a "girl" dog has to get her "period" before she can be spayed? Did you know that they sell little doggy panties for that "special" time of the little girl doggy's life? Little. Doggy. Panties. Yep, that's what my friend told me the other day. She just confirmed it on the phone. Have I entered the Twilight Zone? It sort of feels like it.

I'm Also More Than My Laundry...

We are either very clean or very dirty, I'm not sure which. All I know is I am surrounded by laundry. Dirty laundry, clean laundry, it is unbelievable. It is everywhere. And somehow laundry must be related to dishes. They both spontaneously generate. You know how, when you've loaded your dishwasher and are listening to that comforting hum, you glance toward your sink and cannot believe it but you see two spoons, a knife, and a couple of glasses which must have emerged from the drain in the previous half hour? That's how it is with laundry at my house, too. Right now there is a load in the washer, a load in the dryer, 2 piles of perfectly folded clothes on my bed ready for the elves to put away, and, shockingly enough, an overflowing basket of dirty clothes ready to be washed. And, I swear, five minutes ago, that basket was empty. You know what they say about rabbits.....who knew it was the same with laundry?

Nightmare in New Orleans

This is America in 2005 yet when I watch the coverage of what is going on in New Orleans it brings back memories of the scenes in Gone With The Wind of the burning of Atlanta. Except the scenes in GWTW didn't look as bad. How is it possible that in the greatest country in the world our own citizens are dying on the streets and in the Superdome and in abandoned hospitals? The scenes remind me of an Arnold Schwartzenegger movie except where is he? And if you think it can't happen to you think again. We are all just a disaster away from seeing ourselves on CNN. Think about it. You're displaced from your homes with no water, no working toilets, no phones, no food, no clean clothes, no gas. And it's 95 degrees outside and there is water up to your waist. It's great that Congress passed yet another bill to send money but it seems that these people need buses to get out of there, clothing, food, diapers, infant formula, water, and medicine. Maybe they should send that stuff immediately and worry about how to pay for it later. It's great that President Bush has assured people that help is coming but where is it? As my brother says, it's a disgrace.

This disaster is so immense it is hard to wrap your mind around it. Here's a clue--when you hear "it's a crisis of biblical proportions" more than once, it's a big, bad crisis. People are trapped in hospitals. The hospitals are surrounded by water. People with guns are shooting at rescue helicopters. Everyone is desperate. Oh, yeah, and now there are fires burning out of control. This morning I heard about a woman who recently had a baby and she was released from the hospital but her baby was not. Now she has no idea where her newborn is. And there are thousands and thousands of stories just as bad or worse.

If you are able to read this you have an Internet connection. That alone means your day is already about a hundred thousand times better than anyone you're seeing on CNN. And that should make you realize that, no matter who cuts you off on the highway, or how long you have to wait in a long, slow post office line, or how expensive it is to fill up your gas tank, none of us reading this has any problems.

Medical Update!! Good News!

Dad was released from the hospital today! He is apparently doing well enough to be released, or possibly, insurance decided it was time to kick him out. He sounds good, has been walking a bit, and will be home on Saturday. He will now have time to watch his large collection of DVD's and figure out what kind of pizza to make for the grandkids when he feels up to cooking. We all cannot wait to see him. We love you, Dad!!!