New England Mamas

Meal Planning for Dummies

One of our family resolutions for the New Year is to eat out less.  Much to my childrens' chagrin.  We found we were spending an obscene amount of money on McD's, takout, pizza delivery, etc.  All due to a mere lack of organization and foresight on our part.

This simply means more planning beforehand.  Here is what is working for us:

The Maine (Shopping) Attraction

This past weekend, my husband and I headed away from our Trenches full of kids for a getaway weekend.  Our destination?  Freeport, Maine and the land of Subarus and LLBean.  (Freeport is about a 2-1/2 hour drive from Boston.)

Buckle Up For Safety!

Do you know your state's safety belt use/child restraint laws?

I am ashamed to admit that I didn't know what the rules were in Massachusetts and I figured we were probably breaking the law when it came to the boyz and their boosters seats and sure enough, we are.  But I do now!

The Greatest Show on Earth Giveaway

The story of my life, right? A 3-ring circus!

The first time I attended a circus performance as a mother, Eldest was a mere toddler. Hubby and I took him and it was NOT a good experience. Why?

I was 9 months pregnant. Rivaling the elephant in girth. And I think we paid something like $10 for a bag of kiddie crack cotton candy.

Thankfully though, my new friends at Mom Central (thanks Audrey!) have offered me another chance at having an enjoyable circus experience, this time with 3 boyz in tow!

And guess what? All you New England blog readers? They want to offer you the same opportunity! Here's the scoop:

"Attending a Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus provides more than just a night out. It creates a memory that lasts a lifetime and a tradition that can be carried on from year to year and generation to generation.

As we get ready for a variety of new and exciting Ringling Bros. shows in cities across the country this fall, Mom Central is pleased to help you share in the enchantment!"

I'M GIVING AWAY FOUR (4) FREE TICKETS TO ONE OF THE BOSTON SHOWS!

The showtimes are as follows:

Wednesday, October 8 at 7:00pm

Thursday, October 9 at 7:00pm

Friday, October 10 at 7:00pm

Saturday, October 11 at 11:00am, 3:00pm, 7:00pm

Sunday, October 12 at 11:00am, 3:00pm, 7:00pm

Monday, October 13 at 12:00pm, 4:00pm

So you wanna go? Just leave a comment HERE with which show you want to attend (make sure I have a valid e-mail for you, please). I'll draw a name on Friday, September 26. Good luck!

P.S. In case you don't win? Here's a 20% discount coupon code for tickets to one of the Boston shows when you order tickets from the Ringling Bros. website: MCC

On September 11th

7 years ago today. A Tuesday.

I was 36 weeks pregnant. Lumbering and uncomfortable as I boarded the 7:22 a.m. commuter rail bound for my job at a law firm in Boston. Arrived at work after 8.

Was chatting on the phone with a friend, discussing our baby showers that had both taken place that weekend. Mine on Saturday, hers on Sunday (our poor collective friends!) while our hubbies frollicked in New York City at a Yanks/Sox game. One of my friends from Florida had flown up for my shower. She flew out of Logan Airport in Boston on Monday morning.

I was interrupted from my conversation when a co-worker peeked her head in and said, "Your husband is on my line. Apparently, he needs to talk to you." So I said goodbye to my friend (who was home, but didn't have her TV on) and got on the line with Hubby.

"Do you have your computer on?" he asked breathlessly.

"No. I just got here and was on the phone with Mary. Why? What's up?"

"A plane crashed into the World Trade Center! They don't know many details yet though. TURN ON YOUR COMPUTER!"

Slowly the buzz began to spread on my 21st floor. We were directed into a conference room to watch the breaking news on a projection screen.

That was when I saw the second plane hit.

Shortly after, a firm-wide e-mail was delivered. Our building would be closing at 10 a.m. We were all to evacuate immediately.

I called Hubby back. (Meanwhile he had been frantically trying to call me. The firm's phone lines were being inundated.) Hubby was nervous that they were going to shut down all public transportation. That I wouldn't be able to get out of the city of Boston. 9 months pregnant.

My friend Michelle (who was also working in Boston at the time) and I miraculously got through to each other via our cell phones. We met downtown, so we could walk to the train station together.

It was eerie. Practically everyone in downtown Boston had been evacuated. The city streets were packed, yet it was oddly hushed. Everyone was rushing, furiously punching buttons on their cell phones, desperately trying to get a signal.

I tried to call Hubby from the train station to let him know what my meager train options were to get back home to Central Massachusetts. There was only one train headed towards home, yet it would only take me as far as Framingham, about a 45 minute drive, and not where I had parked my car that morning. But I couldn't get in touch with him. The lines were jammed.

So I waited until the last possible minute to board that train, worried that Hubby might already be driving into Boston to collect me; nervous that he wasn't, and that I indeed NEEDED to get on the train.

Finally, as the announcement was blaring, "Final boarding call!", Hubby and I connected. I SHOULD take the train, and he'd pick me up in Framingham.

As you can imagine, the train was packed. Every seat full, every aisle space occupied. But so silent. Someone kindly felt sorry for my swollen whale-ness and gave me a seat. I let a few strangers borrow my cell phone.

Everyone lost in their own thoughts. Fear, stifled but present. Uncertainty.

I spent the next three days on the couch in my "uniform" (you know, the only XL maternity clothes that fit), glued to the TV. Alternating between grief, disbelief and horror.

What kind of world was I bringing a child into?

Unsafe.

September 11, 2001. I will never forget.

[Re-posted from In the Trenches of Mommyhood 9/11/07.]

Commuting-101

Every morning and every evening, I ride the commuter rail train.

I betcha didn't know that there's a perfect science to commuting, did you?

In the mornings, I leave the Trenches between 6:42 and 6:45 am. Any later than that and I am forced to channel my inner Junior, which is NOT a good thing.

Every day, I park in the same spot at the train station (preferably spot #300). This spot ensures my quick getaway in the evening (more on that later).

Every morning, I ride on the 2nd car from the front. It's a double-decker, and I always sit downstairs. Facing front. (I get nauseous if I have to ride backwards. I think it's because I spent my entire childhood riding in the "way back" of our family station wagon.)

I always sit on the inside of a 3-seater. This way, I can immediately lean my head against the window and SLEEP.

(I sleep like a CHAMP on my morning train ride. Sometimes I wake up so disoriented I can't remember if I'm going to or coming from work. And I'm pretty sure I snore...and drool.)

All this happens before I even start my 8:45 a.m. work day. (Yeah. You read that right. A full 2 hours after I've left the Trenches.)

In the evenings, I head to the train station around 4:45. It is always my mission to try to snag a single-seater for the ride home because let's face it, sitting next to strangers (when I'm not comatose, that is) SUCKS IT. So I usually end up playing the "train game" where I try to guess which track my particular train is on and I head for that same 2nd car from the front, ahead of the pack.

[There's an innocent-looking old lady who is my fiercest competition for a coveted single-seater. So I race her (in my head) every night. Usually the bitch elderly woman wins. So I once again sit on the inside of a 3-seater and hope that the train isn't packed so no one will have to be squished next to me.]

About 2 stops before mine, I start making my way to the front of the train car. There's a crowd of us who stand there, much to the annoyance of other passengers who are getting off first.

I do this because the parking lot in the evening? Is a nightmare. Easily 20 extra minutes of traffic jam if I don't get my ass outta there quickly. By this time, it's after 6pm, and I don't have an extra 20 damn minutes to spare when I've been gone all day and just want to get home to parent mah preshus baybee boyz. (Heh.)

So you see, there's really a lot more to commuting that just the actual train ride. Lots of practice, skill and maneuvering is involved.

Along with a hefty daily dose of bitching.

Cross-posted at In the Trenches of Mommyhood.

Ahhhh, Kelly Clarkson!

So in the past few days, I've gotten a bikini wax, a pedicure and a manicure (Myrtle Beach--2 more days!) during my lunch breaks. Opting for cheap instead of ritzy, I go to a salon I discovered in the somewhat gritty Downtown Crossing area of Boston, as opposed to swanky Newbury Street.

A total of $64 later (not including tips), I am tidy (yes, that area) and uncalloused (not that area--my feet!). And because I'm a giver, I thought I'd share with you some of my salon observations:

Bikini waxing. There's just no damn way to be modest during this process, is there? Even with granny panties on, your legs are sprawled wiiiiiide open.

It helps when your waxer doesn't really speak English. That way there's no pretense of small talk or chitchat about the weather as you're lying (laying?) there with your girly bits exposed; thusly leaving you free and clear to compose blog entries such as this as you anticipate the next excruciating tear of the waxy paper off your nether regions.

It lessens the pain if you grip the skin on the inside of your inner thigh and hold it taut while the waxing is being done. Truly. (Right Sarah. Kinda like a Dora bandaid would heal a gaping flesh wound?)

It always helps to have a meticulous waxer. Someone who's not all willy-nilly in her application. Otherwise you could end up crooked or lopsided down there. Just sayin'.

I would recommend NOT getting a waxing during the work day, as I did. It's hard to focus on your work product when you're worried about being cemented by wax to your office swivel chair. While wearing a skirt.

Finally, in all honesty? Getting a bikini wax is just not that bad. It's really not so much about the ripping out of the hairs as it is the vulnerability of your private body being exposed to a stranger. Am I right?

Moving on to manis and pedis:

Is it just me, or does anyone else get paranoid when all the Asian beauticians speak in their native language? Are they making fun of me? "Look at her gnarly toes!" "Ewww, gross." "I can't believe I have to touch these things!" (Ok, so maybe I'm slightly paranoid.)

Having the callouses shaved off your feet feels soooo good. But not so good that I'm even remotely tempted to purchase this. Spaghetti with "sprinkled parmesan", anyone?

Some women (*cough*thetwosittingonbothsidesofme*cough*) have really gross feet. Hmmm...maybe the girls were actually talking about them??

And finally, before you even make it out of the damn salon, you will inevitably smudge. Every. Single. Time. Grrrr.

Cross-posted at In the Trenches of Mommyhood.

I'm (Diaper) Free and Lovin Every Minute of It!

I AM DONE CHANGING DIAPERS! (Notice the Seinfeld reference in the title?  Well, right now I'm doing the Elaine dance.)

Baby became fully potty-trained in a matter of days. I swear it, you guys.

Get this though: I have had been changing diapers for over 6-1/2 years.

That's oh...approximately 2,400 days.  (Yep, I'm a dork and I added it up.)  In a row.

And, in 2004, when Middle was born, both Eldest and Middle were in diapers that summer.  Then, a year later, in the summer of '05 when Baby was born, both Middle and Baby were in diapers.

Of course, I'm not so naive to think that we will actually see any savings now that we are a diaper-free Trenches.  Oh no.

It's called PRESCHOOL PAYMENTS.  And FOOD.  *sigh*

So what's your number?  How many days/years--in a row--have you changed diapers? Anyone ever have, dare I ask, 3 in diapers at once?  (Bless your soul.)

Cross-posted at In the Trenches of Mommyhood

A Walmart Confession

Last night, upon my return home from work, Hubby (who had left his work early due to the stomach bug) asked me if I would head out to Walmart or Target later that evening after the boyz were in bed. He had a list of stuff we needed for the Trenches.

By the time we got everyone settled (past 8pm), I had already changed into my "comfy" clothes--you know the ones: tee shirt, baggy exercise pants, no bra.

Crap! Still had to take one for the team and venture out to Target/Walmart.

So I simply threw on a sweatshirt and headed out. Braless. To Walmart. After 8pm.

Where I most definitely blended in with the rest of the Walmart crowd, especially in our Central Massachusetts neck of the woods.

Because where else can you buy applesauce, undershirts and curtain tie backs all in one-stop-shopping?

Sure, I could've gone to Target as well...

But then I definitely would have had to wear a bra.

Cross-posted at In the Trenches of Mommyhood

The Commute

Since returning to full-time employment in the professional corporate environment (in downtown Boston), the one thing I've realized the most in these past 4+ months? 

Man, I'm tired.

(Yes, my ass is sitting on a train for over 2 hours every day, but I'm still TIRED.)

Here's why:

1.  I MUST leave the house by 6:42 a.m.  6:45 at the LATEST.  Even when there's urine soaking on the floor.  And children blocking my path.  I won't even go into detail about waking up, hitting snooze, showering, blow-drying, flat-ironing, makeuping, dressing, packing my lunch.  Oh wait, I kinda just did.  On top of making nutritious breakfasts pouring bowls of sugared cereal and having some snuggle time with whomever is awake at that UNGODLY hour.

2.  I drive about 20 minutes to the train station.  And stress when I get stuck behind a school bus.  (Hey, whatever happened to BUS STOPS?  Why does it seem like each and every kid gets picked up directly in front of their house?  Even when the houses are 2 doors down!)

3.  I pull into the train parking lot.  And must find a parking space that will ensure me maximum quickness in the evening when departing from said parking space.  (The parking spots numbered 352-357 are the best for this, I've come to realize.)  (More on the rationale behind this later.)

4.  I have to make sure I have $2 to pay (daily) for parking.  Which doesn't always happen.  (Hello parking police.  Yes, I will pay your fines.  Eventually.)

5.  Then, I scurry to the train.  Sometimes I mustn't scurry.  Sometimes I must SPRINT.

6.  I have to stand in the appropriate spot on the platform to ensure that the train door will stop directly in front of me to ensure that I will be one of the first ones to enter the train to ensure that I will get a good seat on the train.   I always get on the 2nd car from the front, and I try to sit in the window seat in the 2-seater row. 

7.  Commence snoozing whilst hoping that I'm not snoring or drooling.  At this point, all I care about is waking up at my stop.  I've only slept through my stop once.  Which isn't a big deal.  Then I just walk directly to work instead of taking the subway.

8.  Get off at Back Bay.  Climb steps into station and scurry through turnstyle to subway.  Stand at platform and wait for the T.  Elbow back those who elbow me in hopes of cramming onto overcrowded subway.  Grrrrr.  Find it ridiculous and aggravating and RUDE when snooty businessmen bury their noses in their morning paper and ignore pregnant women STANDING while they're SITTING.  (I ALWAYS offer pregnant women my seat if I happen to be sitting.  And I glare at the jerks who don't offer their seat.)

9.  Get off subway 3 stops later.  Walk 10 minutes to work.  Arrive at work at 8:30 a.m.  On a good morning with no delays, that is.  Almost 2 hours after I left the Trenches that morning.

GETTING HOME:

1.  Leave work by 4:45.  Walk to South Station to catch commuter rail.  (I don't take the subway at night.  Easier to just walk directly to the train.)

2.  Get on train.  2nd car from front again.  Try to sit in aisle seat in 3-seater row that's already occupied with someone sitting on the inside.  And then try to make myself look as large as possible so that no one will ask to sit in the middle.  Best case scenario:  I'm there early enough to get a single seater.  Score!

3.  Don't sleep.  (I worry that I won't wake up at my stop and will end up stranded in Worcester.)  Instead, solve "sudorku" puzzles, or read.

4.  Head to front of train car at stop before my stop in order to get in line.  The post-train traffic at my stop is a nightmare. 

5.  Since the parking lot is such a CLUSTERF*CK, once at my stop, I RUN from the platform, up the stairs (along with my fellow "rushers") and to my car.  I learned the hard way that if I don't do this?  I end up in PARKING LOT TRAFFIC for 20 minutes.  20 minutes that I'd like to spend WITH MY CHILDREN WHOM I HAVEN'T SEEN ALL DAY, THANKYOUVERYMUCH.

6.  Drive 20 minutes home to the Trenches.  Arrive around 6:30ish.

7.  Hubby usually has dinner all ready (all together now: "Awwwwww...") and we sit down to eat.  And talk about our day.  And laugh.  As I'm continually amazed at how blessed I am to have the family I have.

8.  Dinner/dishes/cleanup lasts until at least 7pm.  I'm still usually in my work clothes.

9.  Bathtime for the 3 boyz.   I usually do all the undressing, butt-wiping, bathing, drying off, diapering, pj-ing, hair combing, toothbrushing, etc. while Hubby does miscellaneous cleanup downstairs.  I change into my workout gear at this point too.

10.  Depending on the naps that Baby and Middle had that day, either it's Bath&Bed (with stories beforehand), or Bath&Downstairs (for an episode of John&KatePlus8 or the Sox game).  And LOTS of snuggling.

11.  Bedtime is 8:00ish. 

12.  Once the boyz are settled, I rush down to the basement to ride the stationary bike for 30 minutes.  No running yet.  It still gets dark around 7:30 and I don't want run at night until after the boyz are all tucked in.

13.  Finally time to let the sweat dry relax in front of some quality programming bad (Real Housewives of NYC) reality (Big Brother) television (America's Next Top Model) shows (Survivor)!  My DVR is my bestest friend.  (And I'm too tired to link to those shows.)

14.  Bed at 11.  Wakeup at 5:30 and do it all over again.

Needless to say, I LIVE for weekends now.  And vacation days. 

And?  I feel I must point out that I may just very well have The Best Husband Ever.  Who has graciously (for the most part) picked up all the slack since I started being the breadwinner this new job.

I get that this sort of routine/lifestyle may not work for everyone, but it's working for us right now. And that's all I can ask for.

*yawn*