HELL MONTH

We all have bad moments, bad days, bad weeks... sometimes by the time December comes, we are grateful that a bad year is over and we get a fresh start. I don't know why January 1st suddenly gives us a new beginning, but I suppose it's no different than starting a new diet on Monday. Anyway, once you have kids, those bad moments or days or weeks seem to have the ability to take bad to a whole new level that I can only refer to as hell. I suppose I should be grateful in a way that my children are preparing me for my future destination; however, lately, it's been a little more fiery in my world than I would like.

In addition to being a mom, I do work outside the home as a Catering Event Director. Essentially, it's being a mom, just in a different way. I plan menus, coordinate details, schedules, appointments, pull shit together when things seem completely fucked, all with a smile on my face so no one knows the madness behind the scenes. Well, September starts our busiest season only to prepare us for October, when we all go a little crazy. Fortunately for me, October is also a busy month at home too, which makes shit really fun. This October however, wasn't just a rough or bad month, it was fucking hell, hence my scarcity.

Aside from my husband's hectic travel schedule for the first half of the month, it started with my daughter needing a mole on her head looked at which turned into a biopsy which came back as atypical. For a child of her age, this means we have to go to a Pediatric Plastic Surgeon to have it removed under anesthesia. So we go for a consult, which I have to say was actually a highlight being that I have a thing for the super smart and an accent. Well, her doctor... he was beyond intelligent, handsome and had an Irish accent. At one point, I could suddenly relate to the blank stare my children give me as I listened to him speak in detail about the procedure, which I am quite familiar with, being that I have had the same done to me, but was more than happy to listen. I digress... Anyway, appointment on the books for later in the month knowing very well the timing sucked.

After a couple weeks, my husband returns and my work schedule is in full force. Multiple events every day and long weekends. Oh, and did I mention that my daughter was born on October 23rd and my husband and my anniversary is on the 24th? Considering we had full control of when we attempted each pregnancy, in hindsight, I view our oversight in the timing of it all, as a fail.

Let's go to the birthday thing. Planning a birthday in October for a kid is shit. Why I ask my husband's opinion, I'm not sure, because I was all for a Little Gym or Monkey Joe's thing, even though I hate those places, but he thought having something at home would be ideal. My mom has a big yard so we were going to go bounce house. HA! Forget a fucking bounce house in October because every fall festival has rented any inflatable worth a shit months earlier. So, now I'm 3 weeks out and with no plan. Hell, I haven't even sent out an invitation because I've been so busy planning all my clients' very involved events, I figured a 4 year old's "at home" birthday would be a breeze. Ok, no bounce house. Well fuck. I hyped this idea up to my very particular daughter and now I'm not going to hear the end of it. So, I search and I find an entertainer who will come and do face painting, balloon animals, games and then a little costume change to return as Skye from Paw Patrol, which was the chosen theme.  I thought my plan was perfect! We'd still have it at my mom's since she has a huge yard, the kids would be entertained, the adults could hang out over a couple adult beverages and everyone is happy.

You know how at one point, I had said that I wish someone had told me what mom life was really like? That it's not all rainbows and butterflies but more like an glitter bomb exploded inside your house and while you love some sparkle, you're still picking pieces off your face years later? Well, here it is: CHILDREN'S BIRTHDAY PARTIES ARE THE FUCKING WORST! The planning, the actual party, the aftermath... it's shit. My vision of this festive outdoor party ended up in the garage because of rain. Now everyone is crammed into a small space, which only makes everything louder. The poor entertainer smiled through gritted teeth trying to get the kids attention over the noise and chaos while my little OCD mini-me had multiple breakdowns because she couldn't dictate everything everyone did. After all, it was her party, as she stated multiple times, so she "gets to do what she wants". I had one cocktail that with the anxiety of the day, the change in plans and the lack of food, hit me like a mack truck and at one point I felt like a deer in headlights watching the whole thing spin out of control. I plan events for a living and it was going to be a 4 year old's birthday party that would defeat me!? In the end, I did hear the kids had a fun and seeing Tyler's face light up when she saw Skye walk in was priceless. Then she looked up at me and asked "how did she know?". That made everything else futile, but as it occurred, I didn't know how I could ever do it again. It's going to happen though, for the next too many years... I guess I'll be better prepared? Eh, probably not, but at least I know I'll survive.

Next is our anniversary and sadly, since the birth of my daughter, our annual celebration has kind of gone by the wayside. We still acknowledge it with cards and small tokens while I remind my husband how lucky he is, but really, by the end of October we are both so exhausted all we really want to do is send the kids off, order in and watch Dateline. I know, don't be too jealous of our exciting life.

Oh, and in case you weren't aware, the 4 year old checkup is terrible. Fortunately, I planned ahead and made sure my husband would be in attendance so Tyler didn't hold me solely responsible for her 4 vaccines and flu shot. It started off great. She was happy to get measured and thought her vision check was a good time. Then it happened. She laid on the table with me over her face and her dad over her body and, as she puts it: she got shot. The terror in her eyes was heart wrenching and for the first time, I cried with her during her shots. After it was over she called the nurse back in because "she had something to say to her" and angrily told her to "never give me a shot again!". She proceeded to inform every doctor and employee at the office the same thing as we left. Her dad asked her how many times Tupac got shot and survived in an effort to minimize her experience, but as she answered "9 times" (which is actually 5) she quickly followed it up with "but I'm never getting shot ever again". I wish that was the case sweet child but flu season comes once a year...

As if the annual checkup wasn't enough, a couple days later she had her surgery. She did great, but seeing your baby get put to sleep with the gas mask is unnerving. Sadly, I experienced this with my youngest last month and it's not any easier the older they get. I was hoping to experience the same sweet, post-anesthesia cuddles I got from my son, but it seems the meds hit Tyler differently. She wavered between being loopy, tired and frankly, just bitchy all day. Hard to complain though- she's most certainly my child and she had had a rough several days.

Fortunately, we were able to easily distract her with Halloween being the next day. It should be noted, that I'm not being sarcastic in saying that. It was nice to fall back on that when she noted the discomfort from her head. Back to Halloween- I have to take a moment to give my mom some much deserved credit. Every Halloween, not only did she get us home from school, dressed with make up and fed, she also dressed up herself. Then she had the foresight to buy my sister and me a small gift from the "Sugar Ghost". As the story goes, you eat whatever candy you want on Halloween, pick out 10 pieces to keep and leave the rest for the Sugar Ghost who takes it to kids who don't get to go trick-or-treating. In return, the ghost leaves a little gift behind. I did this last year and it was a hit. This year, by Halloween, I was spent so I guess it's fortunate one kid still has her "starter teeth" and the other one has no interest in candy. I am completely grateful for every teacher who went to work on November 1st. I commend you because I'm guessing that post sugar day was brutal. 

In the end, October was fucked. I ran around like a crazy person, constantly tried to remove the mascara from under my eyes which was actually not make up at all, but rather, evidence of my exhaustion, cried alone in the bathroom before emerging to face my children more than once and actually ate a meal that consisted of a protein shake and two packages of fruit snacks because that was what I had in the car. Oh, I also used more dry shampoo than one person should use in a lifetime; however, I'm completely convinced that the inventor of dry shampoo should have their own holiday. That said, November is a new month and I'm sure we'll have new "fun". Hopefully it'll go smoother, but at some point, I'm sure I'll find the candy stash I hid from the kids, eat it in lieu of a meal while I watch TV, with the wine bottle right next to my glass because God forbid I get up after the kids are in bed for a refill.