OMG

D got more shana tova calls than I did. Popular kid.

My husband did ALL the Rosh HaShana shopping last night and put everything away. Where was I? Asleep in bed.

I am sick -- which is totally fine, because it's not like there's ANYTHING GOING ON AT THIS TIME OF YEAR.

So, Mr. WG made a last minute run to Target this afternoon. As he left, he said that D. was taking a bath. A few minutes later, I happened to go upstairs and found... D. in the tub WITH BABY A. The two of them were laughing and covered in bubbles and having a grand old time. Neither of them was happy when I broke up the party.

Shana tova, y'all. Catch you on the flip side.

We Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Programming...

...to talk about, well, programming. Specifically television programming. I read this NYT article with something bordering on disbelief. Look, I get that TV is awesome. I LOVE TV. I really do. And I used to be completely addicted to my TiVo and my channels and my everything. Until I looked at the bill one day and decided that I was done.

It took a bit of time to get Mr. WG on board, but we got there eventually. We have a Mac Mini hooked up to our television, so we can watch shows on Hulu.com. We also have a Roku and a Netflix subscription. The Roku is hooked up in our bedroom; we can watch Netflix on demand via the Mac Mini on the big screen in the family room. And for those "premium" shows the guy in the article is whining about -- has he never heard of ordering DVDs from Netflix? Visiting the library? Or hanging out with a friend?

You know what? CBS doesn't make any of their content available on Hulu. Guess what? I no longer watch anything on CBS. Sure, if they come up with the next Lost, that means I won't see it. But eventually, it'll be on DVD, if it's any good, and I'll get it then.

In the last year, I watched all available seasons of Weeds and Entourage on DVD. Same with Monk, and I've just started Brothers and Sisters. I also watch current shows, like Covert Affairs, Persons Unknown, The Gates (OMG, I LOVE THE GATES), pretty much anything USA airs, and lots more. LOTS more. But I will never go back to paying for cable.

That is all. You may go on with your lives now. Thank you.

CVS Photo Art Giveaway!

I think I've mentioned my extreme love of CVS once or twice before. So how excited was I when they emailed me to tell me about their new Easel Art and Wall Art photo products? SUPER EXCITED. Like, kind of embarrassingly so, to the point where my response to them was something along the lines of: OMG! I think you're SO PRETTY! Can I braid your hair? Can I please sit at your table for lunch? Will you be my friend?

CVS was all, Look, you're nice and all, but you need to TAKE IT DOWN A NOTCH.

And I was all, But you're SO COOL! And you're talking to ME! This is SO AMAZING!

And CVS was like, Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea.

No, no, they were much more gracious than that. They may or may not have been making L shapes on their foreheads and rolling their eyes behind my back, however. I would not blame them if they were.

ANYhoo, Wall Art and Easel Art, new from CVSPhoto.com, as featured recently on SheKnows.com. I have to say, these are GORGEOUS, and they are a fabulous way to decorate your home on a budget without sacrificing style. I uploaded a great photo I have of these grapes we saw growing years ago in Cypress or Greece (I'm such a world traveler I can't remember where I saw what), and the finished product is AMAZING. I'm hanging it in the dining room -- we make kiddush (a blessing over wine) every Shabbat, and so this will be a lovely addition to the space. I have some more photos I'm hoping to turn into Wall and Easel Art as well.

And because CVS is so pretty and cool, they are going to give one of you a code for your very own Wall or Easel Art! To enter, all you have to do is leave a comment below saying what picture you'd like to see as Wall Art or Easel Art.

BONUS entries: After you leave your main comment, LEAVE A SEPARATE COMMENT for each of the following that you have done:

• Follow me on Twitter. (Already do? Leave a comment that says so!)
• Follow CVS_Extra on Twitter. (Already do? Leave a comment that says so!)
• Tweet about this giveaway and leave a comment with your tweet time stamp (click on the time below the Tweet, which shows the URL). You can use this tweet: Win Wall Art or Easel Art from @CVS_Extra! http://bit.ly/cJyYQr
• Subscribe to my feed, and leave a comment saying you subscribed. (Already subscribed? Just leave a comment saying so!)
• Mention this giveaway on your blog and leave the link below.

Details & Disclaimer:
Contest runs for one week and closes Wednesday, August 11 at 9:30 am Central Time. I'll use random.org to choose a winner. Your comment has to give me some way to reach you -- your Twitter handle, blog link, email, something. I'll get in touch with you and give you 48 hours to reply. If I don't hear back from you, I'll pick an alternate winner.
CVS gave me a code to make a free Wall Art photo. I was not paid or required to promote these products or run this giveaway.

A Hypothetical Situation

You subscribe to a local email list for co-religionists in your city. A subscriber you've never met posts a plea for money to help him attend university in Israel. He says, in part, that "the classes are from 8:30 in the morning to 5:00 at night with 4-5 hours of homework a day" leaving "no time to go to work" and requests that people send him contributions to help him pay his tuition.

You, like most people on the list, are not sure of the validity of the post. You delete it and move on with your life. But one list member takes it upon himself to post:

"Anyone needing 4-5hrs of daily homework would never have gotten into [redacted] University! Special needs school..maybe."

Which of the following responses is MOST appropriate?

A. HOLY [REDACTED] [REDACTED] MOTHER [REDACTED] WHAT THE [REDACTED] IS WRONG WITH YOU?
B. Learn how to use an ellipses, moron.
C. Wait until you run into the list member in a public forum, and slap him in the face.
D. Calmly delete the email and move on with your life.

Mr. WG picked D. What do you pick? What do you think I picked?

Wait, wasn't this blog supposed to be about my kid with special needs?

I had mentioned that we thought we'd wind up homeschooling our daughters. And then I explained a little bit more about how we got to that decision. But I did not ever provide you with the ultimate resolution, and I thought that a few of you might have been sitting around saying, Hey, what the heck is going to happen with the WG children and school next year?

Well, it's never dull here, I'll tell you that. Mr. WG went in and met with the business manager and explained again that my blog doesn't have to be Fair and Balanced, that it is, by definition, MY PERSPECTIVE, and he handed over some financial papers and said, "Here's what I'm willing to pay." That figure, by the way, is $12,000 per year. We feel that $1000/month towards the education of our children -- the oldest of whom will be in the sixth grade -- is sufficient. I am sure that there are many people who disagree with me and those people can suck it. Whatever, that's how we feel.

Anyway, After much delay -- seriously, a lot of delay -- we were invited in to meet with the lower school principals to discuss our academic issues. I explained how the school has repeatedly failed my daughters, in particular S. I pointed out that I had contacted numerous people about my issues, repeatedly, over the last two years. Then, I tried to make it out like I am the crazy one with the unreasonable demands.

"I get it," I said. "I get that S's teacher has 12 students and therefore can't give personal attention to each one." I made this statement because it is what her teacher SAID TO US at our parent-teacher conference. I repeated it to ANYONE who would listen in the days afterward, because it blew me away. I made a special point of sharing that information with the very principal with whom I was now sitting.

So the principal says, "Well, I was not aware that she had said that."

And I said, "Well, that's a problem."

And the conversation kind of went downhill from there. Ultimately, her suggestion was that we enroll S. in the fall, try things out for a few weeks, and then see how we all feel.

Ultimately, it was all I could do to keep from laughing in her face or throwing things.

A few days later, I sent email to the head of school, informing him that we would not enroll our daughters. I did however, ask if we could enroll them part-time, for their Judaic studies. Several days after that, he replied that allowing us to do so would set "a dangerous precedent."

And this is when things got reeeeeeaaaaaaaaallllllly interesting.

We wanted to privately hire one of the teachers from the day school to do Judaic studies with our girls -- a few hours a week, maybe one day a week, maybe two, but when we tried to do so, we discovered that the school had added a clause to teachers' contracts specifically prohibiting them from tutoring homeschooled students. Yes, that's right. They added a WG clause.

When I told Mr. WG, he actually started laughing. "Do they think they're punishing US?" he asked. "We can hire [redacted] or [redacted] or [redacted]! They're punishing THEIR OWN TEACHERS." Yes. Yes they are.

AND THEN. Oh, yes, there's more. Now, there's another Orthodox day school in town. It's a major thorn in the side of the school my kids were at. In fact, our school simply blames the new school for all their problems, rather than actually addressing issues. Anyway, we got a call from the Other School. They had heard that we were interested in Judaic studies for our daughters, and they were willing -- eager, even -- to help out. No pressure, just the one phone call, and an invitation to reach out if we were interested.

So, Mr. WG sent another email to the head of school. He stated the facts: We wanted to enroll our girls part time for Judaics. You said no. We wanted to hire someone from your school to tutor them privately. You put a clause in their contracts prohibiting that. The Other School offered us the option of enrolling part time. We would really like to work with you. Perhaps you would like to reconsider?

For the record, I did not feel the school deserved that second chance. Doesn't matter, because they turned it down, and the email doing so was addressed to "Mr. and Mrs.," whereas we had always been on a first-name basis with the head of school.

And so, we called the Other School, which is thrilled to welcome my daughters for Judaic studies. And, as their Head of School told Mr. WG, my daughters are OF COURSE invited to join the school for any trips, activities, parties, et cetera. AND, because simplicity is a beautiful thing, we are also enrolling J in their program. I have done the two-carpool life, and it is a pain. Although J. was very happy at the old school, we are pretty sure he will also be very happy at this one. In fact, two of the kids in his class at the new school live on our cul-de-sac, which will make for some lovely shabbas afternoon naps for mommy playdates.

I am fairly certain that:

• there are some homes to which we will never be invited again
• there are some homes to which we will specifically be invited for the first time
• a significant part of the community will trash us
• a different significant part of the community is already planning how to make us feel special

Should be fun.

We Have A Winner!

Thank you to everyone who entered and shared your lines -- I laughed a lot. And thank you, of course, to Amy Wilson for being awesome and for writing such a great book and letting me give away a copy -- you rock, Amy.

As promised, I used Random.org to pick a winner, and it is Janis!



Janis, email me with your mailing address, and I'll get this book out to you. And everyone -- stay tuned -- I have more giveaways coming up in the next few weeks.

Oh yes I did play the SN kid card.

The email I sent to Logitech after reading this post:

Dear Mr. Henry:

I've heard you're the man to talk to at Logitech about my Harmony remote. We have had a variety of Harmony remotes over the years, most recently the 880, which I adore. Unfortunately, it recently stopped working. That is, the remote charges just fine, and all the screens function properly, but when I point it at a device and press --- well, it's about as effective as asking my 11-year-old to set the table, which is to say, not very effective.

I updated the firmware, wiped and reset, reinstalled everything -- and still, no dice. Or changing channels. I emailed customer support over a week ago, but I have not received any kind of response.

My husband has an HD antenna thingy (that's the actual technical name, by the way), with a box, and we don't have the remote for it anymore. So he's stuck with it on Fox, and we can't watch any other channels, because it has no buttons. This means that last night, when my husband turned on the TV, my 6-year-old developmentally delayed son got to see Family Guy. Let me tell you, it's rare that I'm glad for my son's speech delay, but last night was one of those times!

Anyway, I'm really hoping you can help me get my remote fixed. That would be super cool.

Thanks!

Last night, just before 10pm, Logitech called. They're sending me a brand new Harmony One. For free. Because they're super cool like that.

In related news, I am awesome.

They're always listening

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

The living room in WG's home. Messy.

WG sits in the recliner, currently not in the reclined position, holding a cordless phone and talking to BFF, whom we hear, but do not see.

BFF

So, did you get your Stanford results?

WG

Yeah, I didn't really care that much. As expected.
You know, S -- crap, Z, decent. Nothing exciting.

BFF
Yeah, same here. Son was crap, I mean, really crap,
and Daughter was surprisingly good.

SON
What do you mean, I was crap?

A panic-stricken look comes across WG's face as
she realizes what has clearly happened.

BFF
(whispering )
Oh, crap, I didn't know he was there.

WG
Oh, no.

BFF
(whispering)
Oh, crap, he's crying. Gotta go.

GIVEAWAY, and Interview with Amy Wilson

Today, I have news even more exciting than poop in the toilet. Yes!

A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of reading and reviewing Amy Wilson's book, When Did I Get Like This: The Screamer, the Worrier, the Dinosaur-Chicken-Nugget Buyer, & Other Mothers I Swore I'd Never Be. (You can read my review over at SheKnows.com.) When I was originally asked to review the book, I suggested that I also run an interview with Amy over here -- and I asked to be able to give away a copy of the book. I wanted to suggest that Amy's publisher give me a contract to write a memoir of raising a child with special needs, but I sensed it might be too soon in our relationship. I'm going to save that for when we get our hair braided or something.

Anyway, Amy was gracious enough to answer my questions as if they were actual, relevant questions, which was incredibly kind and good-humored of her. Take a look at how funny and charming she is.


WG: Amy, you claim to have three small children. But if that's true, then tell us: when and how did you find the time to write such a funny book that features complete sentences, poly-syllabic words, and essays that every mother can relate to?

Amy: I have several "secrets" which are not so incredibly original, but they worked for me:

• A supportive partner, willing to get up with the kids every weekend morning (rather than taking turns sleeping in) so I could write from 6:30 to 9:30 am at the Starbucks
• A great babysitter for my youngest during the week, from 9 am to 3 pm, and two boys in day camp last summer.
• A terrifying, looming, and very tight manuscript deadline.
• Most of all: I didn't have all day every day to write. So I wrote when I could. Twenty minutes here, half an hour there. We moms can get a LOT done in the scraps of time we have.

On the other hand, I also took the writing seriously, and gave it the time it demanded. That's easy to do when you have an actual book deal in hand. I'm not sure I could have done it if I felt like it was "just for me," just a hobby, that it might not ever be seen by anyone else. I'm not saying that's a good thing-- we mothers deserve to have things in our life that excite and fulfill us. But we don't often entitle ourselves to those things. We put ourselves last, because we think that's what is expected of us.

WG: Do you want to scream as much as I do when your husband says he is "babysitting" his own children?

Amy: Oh my goodness, yes. Now I just said how supportive my husband is, but he has of course made a few male missteps along the way. He has a female co-worker who kicks his ass in these cases, so I don't have to. She was the one to let him have it when he (or so I heard later) said casually at work one afternoon that he couldn't hit the pub after work because he had to go home and "babysit." He has chosen his words more carefully since then.

WG: Could you please tell us the rules for Cut the Cucumber?

Amy: Well, as I say in the book, "Cut the Cucumber" is a very free-form sort of game. All you need to play is to be a little boy with your hands down your pants after bathtime, and with just a little imagination, there you are.

The really funny thing about "Cut the Cucumber" is that I actually asked Seamus for a follow-up recently on that game and how it's played, and he stared at me blankly. He had NO recollection of having ever said those words, let alone having been world champion at said game. This is why you have to write down all the cute/adorable/slightly scary stuff your kids say: they will all too soon forget, and so will you.

WG: What's the one thing you want people to ask you about mothering, because you have a great answer, but no one ever asks you?

Amy: What a good question! Honestly, I feel like, in doing so many interviews for this book, I've gotten tons of great questions- and really had the chance to say what I want to say. So here's my favorite question that I was asked, by Gretchen Rubin on her Happiness Project blog -- and my answer. Her question didn't relate directly to mothering, but my answer did:

Is there a happiness mantra or motto that you’ve found very helpful?

When a friend of mine had just had her first baby -- and was in the whirlwind of stress and sleep deprivation that comes with it -- she told me that her mother told her: "This isn't forever. This is just right now." How I wish someone had told me that when I was a new mother! I've carried that with me ever since, and it cuts both ways. In a difficult moment, remembering "this is just right now" gives me permission to be there, and take a deep breath, and know that it won't last forever. In a wonderful moment, "this is just right now" helps me remember to savor my happiness, and have gratitude.

Dude, Amy is awesome. I'm seriously hoping she comes to Houston so we can hang out.

And, I have a copy of her book to give away to one lucky reader! And since there are probably about 6 of you who read this blog, your chances of winning are pretty high. To enter, you can just leave a comment below with the one sentence you swore you'd never say -- but now mention at least once daily. Mine? "Life isn't fair."

BONUS entries: After you leave your main comment, you can leave a separate one for each of the following that you have done:
• Follow me on Twitter.
• Tweet about this giveaway and leave a comment with your tweet time stamp (click on the time below the Tweet, which shows the URL).
• Subscribe to my feed, and leave a comment saying you subscribed. (Already subscribed? Just leave a comment saying so!)
• Mention this giveaway on your blog and leave the link below.

Follow me!

Um, this is slightly embarrassing, but I have actually started tweeting. So, feel free to follow me. And yes, that is my real name on that page. Also, I do remember that I have a blog, and I am *not* using Twitter as a replacement for the blog. I have just been off my game a bit, what with having five children and whatever. Apologies. Seriously working at a better schedule, and starting to think I have it under control. Several posts in progress, and should have some time over this week to get them up. Thanks for hanging in there.

Passive Aggression

I have to say it somewhere, so I'll say it here. If you are in charge of an organization that holds a big event and you have employees who work on it and volunteers who work on it, and you write a public thank you naming only the employees -- who GOT PAID TO WORK ON IT -- but not the volunteers, you are not going to make a lot of friends.

I'm just saying.

And I realize that this has nothing to do with this blog or whatever, but it does, if you think of this blog as the place I go to dump all the crap I would otherwise carry around inside.

And that is all.

Is the world crazy, or am I?

You be the judge.

1. I emailed the school principal requesting a meeting to discuss S. and detailed my concerns. I received this reply:

I'd like to invite all teachers, along with you and me, together to discuss [S]'s needs. This way we can all share ideas and implement a few. And, we will all be on the same page. It will be tricky to get everyone together, but with notice, I think it can be done..probably around lunch time. I will email her teachers to inform them we all want to meet and find the time that works best for them. Once I do that, do you think you can make yourself available for that time?

I agreed to be available and received:

ok, I just emailed the teachers so will hopefully have some information about when we can meet by tomorrow afternoon.

Several days passed. I wrote to ask for an update. I received:

My sincere apologies because I scheduled a time to meet with [S]'s General Studies teachers for yesterday at 12:15 but then I had to cancel and rescheduled for today at 12:15. I was going to share the information you gave me, forgetting that you would like to attend the meeting. I've talked to [the teachers] and we can still meet today at 12:15 if that is good for you, but if not, we can meet tomorrow at 12:15. Which day would you prefer?

Who's crazy?

2. I email the principal the following:

I am interested in several of your new endeavors, specifically, the parent book club (possibly, depending on what exactly it entails), the Bluebonnet program, the spelling bee, and the gardens. I am NOT volunteering to get all of these off the ground, but I am happy to be involved in all of them. Can you tell me what's involved in the Bluebonnet program? And what are the plans for the parent book club? Fiction, nonfiction, Judaica, what? Thanks!

I receive the following reply, sent to me and two other parents:

Dear Ladies,
Thank you for your kind offer to volunteer to make this program a success! Our librarian and I would like to meet with you this Wednesday, the 16th at 8:00 for about 30 minutes in the library. I look forward to working with y’all. : )

Who's crazy this time?

3. The phone rings at 10 past 9 am, also known as ten minutes after the housekeeper should arrive. It is her son, speaking in barely intelligible English. Something about his mother being late. How late? He doesn't know. Two hours later, I am at Target with the baby when the daughter -- who is 12 -- calls with slightly better English. Her mom is sick and can't come today. Ten minutes later, Mr. WG calls to tell me the daughter -- who is TWELVE -- showed up at our house to clean and care for my children for the day. Her mom DROPPED HER OFF and left. He neglected to mention that she came with her 3-year-old brother in tow.

Seriously, who's crazy here?

Variously.

1. On Sunday night, the new housekeeper called to ask if we wanted her to work on Monday. Um, yes? OK. She came with her daughter. At one point, we were talking with them, Mr. WG and I, and Mr. WG asked if they had ever been to San Antonio. No. Why not? "Because we don't have time and money," the daughter said. She did not add, "you moron." Mr. WG followed up with, "How about Galveston?" "Yes," said the daughter. "We've been to Galveston. We were going to go today, but..." and the end of THAT sentence of course is "but you made my mother come to work, you bastard." Or, "Mr. and Mrs. WG SUCK and are going STRAIGHT TO HELL." Either one works, really.

2. D. has a friend in school. Desperate mother that I am, I gave my name, phone number, cell phone number, and email address to his mother. Are you surprised that I haven't heard from her?

3. Save me from myself. I am reasonably certain that people behind me in line at the grocery store do not care about Baby A's microtia. And yet, when they say things like, "Oh, what a cute baby!" I INVARIABLY respond with, "Yes, and his ear? It's going to be fine. It's called microtia, and there's surgery, but not now. When he's older. He has no external ear canal." And the people slowly back away, and I STILL KEEP TALKING.

4. We canceled cable yesterday. I ordered a Netflix plan for $13.99/month, which lets us have 2 DVDs at a time, plus access to their full library of on-demand movies and TV shows. I also used some Amazon gift certificates earned via Swagbucks to buy a Roku, which lets us watch all that Netflix content right on the TV. Cable was costing us about $50/month, so I'm pretty psyched.

5. I am slowly getting my life back under control. Slowly, slowly, but I am almost on a regular working schedule. Just in time for the Jewish holidays!

Things That Have Been Said to Me Recently

By my father, on the way to the airport: "I really think you should have your tubes tied. It's just that if you've already had two with... anomalies... your chances skyrocket for something worse."

By my midwife, a few days before Baby A. was born, as she waited for a contraction to see if she could feel my cervix, and I lay half nekkid on my bed: "A little awkward, yeah."

By Z., later that day, upon hearing that her father had touched the baby's head: "What, you stuck your hand down Mommy's throat?"

By the little girl who sat behind me at the Wiggles concert on Sunday, as I was wearing a bandanna as a hair covering: "Are you a pirate?"

Regularly scheduled posting is set to resume later this month, when the children return to school.

Seriously, Universe, if you have something to say, just say it already.

On Monday, I got in my car and headed out to pick up my kids at camp. As I sat in the garage, I forwarded a text to Mr. WG highlighting the babysitter's availability for the week and asking him to choose an evening. Then I left.

About four minutes later, the car in front of me stopped abruptly, for no apparent reason. I slammed on the brakes and stopped. The car behind me hit me.

The car in front of me then made a u-turn and drove away. I sat very still, processing the fact that I had been hit from behind. I am, you may recall, nine months pregnant. Slowly, I pulled my car out of traffic and got out.

I walked over to the other car, the car that hit me, and a 17-year-old girl got out. "Why'd you stop?" she screeched.

"I stopped to avoid hitting the car in front of me," I said, hand on my large belly.

"I just got this effing car," she shouted.

"Is that your baby in the back?" I gestured to the 2-year-old sitting in a car seat.

"My baby brother," she said, barely glancing at him.

I called Mr. WG. He did not answer. I continued to call him every 15 seconds for the next 10 minutes or so until he did finally call me back and I could tell him that I had been rear-ended. In the meantime, I copied down the girl's insurance information. She didn't have her driver's license with her. She was extremely unconcerned about the fact that she had hit a pregnant woman, although the guy she had in the front passenger seat -- maybe 18 or so -- did ask if I was OK.

My most pressing concern was that I needed to pick up the kids at camp. Why it did not occur to me to ask someone else to do this is beyond me, but whatever.

When Mr. WG called, his most pressing concern was my health and safety. I kept telling him I was fine and repeating that I had to get the kids. He reminded me that I was pregnant. I allowed as that was true, but I still had to pick up the kids, and was there any other information I should get from this girl?

Eventually, I got back in the car and drove to camp, got my kids and the carpool kids, and drove home. I called the midwife and left a message for her. The instant I got home, I reminded Mr. WG that he had to take the girls for an eye exam. He left, somewhat reluctantly.

From the road, he called USAA and began reporting the claim. D. and J. decided to make life easy for me by screaming hysterically and wanting all kinds of things -- apple juice, ice cream, cereal, whatever. All things that required me to continually get up and get stuff.

USAA called to get my recorded statement.

Mr. WG texted to tell me that S. needs glasses.

My boys continued screaming.

The midwife didn't call back.

I paged the midwife.

Nothing.

I paged again.

Nothing.

I called. No answer. Repeat.

And then -- a phone call! Right as Mr. WG called to say he was on the way home, the midwife called.

After some conversation, we determined that she had received my pages but had not noticed her pager go off, and she was horrified to discover this. (The next morning she told me it had been on vibrate, and she is now obsessively checking it. Also, she gave me her schedule for the next few weeks and how to reach her in different places.) We also determined that since I could feel the baby, I had no spotting, no bruising, everything seemed fine, whatever, it had already been a few hours, that we could forgo the 5-hour monitoring the hospital would do.

Blah blah, ok, fine. I went to bed.

The next morning, we finished filing the insurance claim, and Mr. WG went to drop off the car and pick up the rental. He came home with a sedan. It seats five. We are a family of six. Soon to be seven. And we drive carpool. So this whole five-seater is slightly inconvenient, but we are managing. Not well, but we are managing.

And everyone I talk to has a story about a car crash in the ninth month that threw them into labor. And yet, here I am, still pregnant. Not in labor.

Thank God, nothing serious happened. But really, don't you think the universe could cut me a break now and then?

I Share Because I Care

This evening was pizza night chez WG. As you may know, Mr. WG doesn't eat dairy. Well, that's not quite true. Chocolate, ice cream -- these he eats. But milk, cheese, yogurt -- not only does he not eat these, but he goes ON AND ON about how disgusting they are and how they stink and he hates them and how can we eat it and why am I cooking it -- you get the picture.

Anyway. Pizza night. So, I made two pizzas for normal people (tomato sauce, garden-fresh basil, and cheese), and one smaller pizza for Mr. WG. Sometimes I make individual pizzas for everyone, and then mine can be full of things like avocado and red onion and pesto and stuff. But sometimes I am not enormously pregnant. So, whatever.

Mr. WG's pizza looked sad, with only tomato sauce and fresh basil. So I took some garden fresh peppers. But they are regular peppers, not spicy. But I had some weird peppers in my fridge, so I took those, too. And a small container with some diced jalapeno peppers from a jar, that Mr. WG says are not at all spicy. So I made him 3-pepper pizza.

Then I blew my nose. And .000003 seconds later, I discovered that the strange peppers in my fridge were GOING TO KILL ME.

Peeps, my nose was ON FIRE. So I went to the Internet and started looking up "Hot pepper in my nose" and variations on that theme. And then, to the great amusement of my family, I poured a glass of milk and stuck my nose in it for 10 minutes.

Once my nose was not burning anymore, I washed and scrubbed my hands for a while. And then, like half an hour later, I rubbed my eye. And apparently my handwashing was insufficient, because all of a sudden MY EYE WAS IN FLAMES.

So I refilled the glass of milk, soaked a washcloth, and held it to my poor eye, convinced I would lose my vision.

I seem to be surviving now. Barely.

And I am NEVER making Mr. WG his own pizza again.

Almost Exciting.

I really hope I'm not the only mom who cries when she realizes there is AN ENTIRE WEEK between the end of school and the start of day camp.

Anyway, I have big plans for this week, among them: teaching my children French, improving their handwriting, creating a variety of arts and crafts projects from popsicle sticks and pipe cleaners not killing anyone.

I actually made up a very nice plan for cleaning one room of the house each day, using my children as slave labor helpers. And after that, we're going to fix the global economy and create peace and harmony in the Middle East.

OK, so far today, I've managed to screw up my schedule and miss D's OT appointment, and it's only 9:07 am. I just rescheduled it for 11:15. The best part is that his OT is actually a good friend, so it's totally not awkward that I'm a loser moron who can't remember to show up.

Also, as I type this post, I am constantly switching windows to chat with my new virtual assistant in India. Yes, really. I hired this company last week, and today is our first day working together. I will be taking copious notes on the process and how it goes, because that's what I do.

So, here's to the last of my sanity, and I hope to survive this week.

Beyond Interlude and into Totally Random

There's a truly disturbing video on the Internet of some Jewish American kids in Jerusalem spewing racist expletives about President Obama. Now, I don't care whether you like Obama or not. I don't actually know if I like him or not -- I didn't vote for him, for my own reasons. But these kids, these drunk kids, are freaking morons. And I hope, I really hope that the Jewish world is working actively to identify them and kick them out of whatever program they are on. Because they don't deserve to be there.

And no, I'm not linking to the video, but you can find it if you really want to hear drunk American teens using four letter words as every possible part of speech.

Interlude

I have a lot of real stuff to blog about, but these are crazy times:

D. finished school on May 27 and has been home every day since. About 7 of those days he spent sick.

Mr. WG also got sick.

So did J.

And S.

Good times, peeps, good times. In the midst of all the fun, I have been trying to maintain some semblance of order in our home and in my work life. I would say I am failing miserably on both counts. Oh, well.

I do have some happy news to report, however. Thanks to careful shopping, coupons, and gift cards for transferring prescriptions, I spent $1.78 at CVS yesterday for 2 bottles of shampoo, 1 bottle of conditioner, 1 bodywash (all Dove), 1 package of Charmin toilet paper (16 double rolls), 4 12-packs of Coke, and I'm pretty certain there was something else I bought, but I can't remember.

Then I hit the grocery stores for the real food. Our meals for the week:

Sunday: Chicken fajitas
Monday: Meatballs and rice
Tuesday: BBQ at my daughter's school
Wednesday: Pizza
Thursday: Sloppy joes
Friday: Shabbat dinner -- chicken, burrekas/sauce, rice, soup,
Shabbat lunch: cholent

I spent a total of $95 at two stores, and that includes what I spent on two packages of kosher chicken, overpriced shredded kosher cheese, 6 boxes of brand name cereal, and so on. I am finally getting the hang of this couponing thing, and I am quite pleased with the results.

Of course, after my successful shopping trips, I took my daughter to Target to buy a bike that we've owed her for several months, and for the first time in MONTHS I spent more than $100 at Target. But $80+ tax was the bike and the helmet. The rest was specialty batteries, toilet paper, and waffles. Not terrible, but still a damper on my otherwise great deal day.

This morning, I have already: put in two loads of laundry, had coffee and oatmeal, had two large glasses of water, invoiced several clients, posted per contractual obligation to the site where I do that, taken D. to CVS to get in on the diaper deal (btw, I personally called corporate CS and verified that the deal is legitimate, and I requested that the cashier manually print my ECBs, which she did. Now the question is if I go back and do it again when it's actually in their computers, since the 3 packs I bought today won't officially be listed as reaching the offer limit. Ah, morals.), and conspicuously avoided working on the large work project that has been on my to-do list for a month. I have GOT to make progress on the damn thing so I can GET PAID.

Look for fairly boring ramblings from me until the kids start camp, when I'll resume my regularly scheduled brilliance. Until I have a baby.

Balancing the Family Budget

Settle in. I got a bunch to say, and not much of it has to do with Sotos or special needs. That's tomorrow's post, if I have time to write it.

So, yesterday I proposed canceling cable, which went over... not so well. Today, as I sat paying bills and trying to get Quicken to give me that stupid "Congratulations!" screen, I lost it. I stormed into Mr. WG's office and ranted like a crazy woman for about 20 minutes.

The outcome was that we actually calculated our current monthly expenses, took another look at the income, and Mr. WG agreed that we need to figure out places to cut in order to pay off our debt.

He called AT&T back, lowered our cable package by $20/month, signed up for phone service (still don't get what's the deal with that), and got $120 credit for our troubles. I have no idea what the new monthly total will be, but I suppose we shouldn't continue stealing phone service once we know that's what we're doing. I suppose.

I called T-Mobile and canceled Internet on both cell phones, sending us back to the dark ages, but saving us $50/month. This means, of course, that I have a Blackberry that is no longer really a Blackberry, but I'll find a way to muddle through.

Mr. WG called the alarm company and cot them to slash the bill from $35 to $19 WITH THE SAME SERVICE. Just for making the call we saved over $10/month.

I went back to my office a calmer woman and looked at the facts. I think part of my freakout was caused by the fact that in April, I invoiced less than I have every other month this year because I had to turn down work while we were away. This means that my checks are rather sparse this month, and I had to pay 1/4 of the kids' registration fee for next year and half of the camp fee, as well, which were big hits to the bank account. But my invoicing for the year is great, frankly, and it should leave us with enough left over each month to make some nice debt payments.

So now I feel better. And when Mr. WG's cell phone contract is up in August, we'll shop around for a better deal, although I'm not sure we'll do much better than $85/month for two phones if we want text messaging. I can live without the Internet on the phone -- I'm ALWAYS AT HOME. And we're hoping to cancel our personal Internet access in the next few weeks -- Mr. WG has a high-speed line with 5 static IPs on it, and there's no real reason I can't hook into that. So there are places we can cut, and we will do it.

And we found the $100 gift card AT&T sent us for signing up for U-Verse, so we'll use that for part of this week's grocery budget, which is nice. And I realize that saying that makes it sound like we're really living hand to mouth, which is not true. Our emergency fund is exactly where it should be, with the amount we agreed to keep in it. We have other savings accounts as well, and I continue to make payments to our debts each month. In fact, I closed several credit cards last month because we paid them off.

I just freak out a lot. Our expenses are going to soar in the next few months (tuition increase, new baby necessitating full time childcare if I'm to continue working, D's ever-growing appetite, etc.).

But this, too, shall pass.

In other news, I made a fantastic dinner tonight. Baked salmon, tomato and mint salad, pasta with pesto, and garlic rolls. I enjoyed it thoroughly, particularly because the mint and basil came from my garden.

Also in other news, Mr. WG planted me two trees today, an orange tree, and an avocado tree. I think of these as investments. :-)

Anyway, tomorrow I'll tell you all about the annual developmental assessment we had on Monday.

Later, peeps.