Why is it my daughter can be such an angel at home but the minute we go into a restaurant she flips out? Meal time in the house is seamless. We eat she is happy and my husband and I catch up on our day. If we do this anyplace else my Sasha goes bananas! The bread basket becomes a hat, the sugar packets are consumed and she wields her fork like a weapon! It’s almost as if she senses the extra pressure to behave by the horrified onlookers. I don’t want her to only be able to take meals at home, but I also don’t want a law suit involving a waiter and a scratched cornea. I hope this is only a phase because the thought of eating at my kitchen table for the next sixteen years is enough to make me want to toss the bread sticks!

I did something this weekend I’ve never done before. I got Sasha dressed in her prettiest party dress, I tied a ribbon onto the perfectly wrapped gift, and I blew my hair straight. None of that is the new part. I then strolled up the walk to Sasha’s little friend’s birthday party…still not the novel event. I rang the doorbell, and we shouted happy birthday in unison just as we’d practiced in the car. What happened next knocked the wind out of me. I was an entire week early!!!! This has never ever happened to me or anyone in my immediate family (who’s not named Heather.) Am I finally slipping? Is the strain of trying to be the perfect Mommy starting to show? Suffice it to say we came in anyway and had a very awkward one on one birthday party. From now on I will keep a calendar in my kitchen, car, and bra. If this type of snafu should re occur, I will have no choice but witness protection!

I think my daughter has a sixth sense when it comes to my personal grooming. I could be sitting in the same room with her for two hours and she won’t acknowledge me unless she wants a sippy cup of juice. On the other hand I could attempt to put on lip stick in the next room and the very second I’m about to apply it she will shriek! The same thing happens if I pull out a hair brush, turn on the shower, or moisturize my dry elbows. The moment I enter the arena of self care she goes berserk! It’s almost as if she won’t be satisfied unless I’m unwashed and in dirty sweats. It seems the only time I have for a beauty regime would fall between the hours of midnight and six a.m. That would be fine if I was a Vegas show girl, but for a full time Mom it just doesn’t cut it. For the time being I’ll have to steal those moments when I can. The ten minutes here and there to gloss the lips, comb the lid, and rouge the cheeks.

I’m trying to organize a surprise party for my sister, Heather’s, birthday and I’m at a complete loss. Everyone I knew before I moved back into town was her married friends. It was all very couple oriented events and dinners. Now that she’s newly single I don’t want to tick her off any more than the actual surprise of the party already will. If she shows up and it’s a bunch of married couples she’ll freak, if it’s a bunch of single gals she’ll freak’ and if it’s just our family she’ll freak and throw something at me. I really want to make it a special day, but when it comes to my sister the word special is a loaded word. I think I’ll play it safe and Kim and I will take her to the bar across from the fire station. Nothing says happy birthday better than a cold drinks and hot guys. That’s true whether you’re married or single!

My little girl walked in on my husband and me in a somewhat compromising position. When I say somewhat compromising I mean care free, clothes free, and common sense free! I’m pretty good at making sure Sasha is asleep before any romantic interludes. Well passion got the best of me and before I realized that we had an audience; I heard laughter at the foot of my bed. Thankfully we weren’t doing anything that would scar her for life, but still…..I had some splaining to do. I’m no prude, I mean I was a cheerleader after all, but I really thought she’d be out of pull ups before we broached this subject. Needless to say that killed the mood and any shot my husband has at lovemaking until Sasha goes to college!

My daughter has started doing something that is making it difficult to go out in public. If I touch her even slightly she will shout “you’re hurting me!” Of course this causes everyone to stop and stare at the big blonde monster with the vulnerable toddler. If she wants a toy and I say no, she will scream “why are you hurting me.” It’s getting to the point I don’t want to leave my house for fear I’ll be arrested. I know it’s a phase and she’ll soon out grow it, but it’s not happening soon enough. Why can’t she be like my sister’s kids? All they did was drop the “F” bomb in church. The kicker is it’s only with me. My husband has yet to experience this public humiliation. I am so gentle with this child and have encouraged her to “use her words” so much I guess I just have to let her work through it. I do however have a long memory. I’ll simply wait for the teen years when I can do the same thing to her while dropping her at the school dance! Hell hath no fury like a Mother shamed!

I never thought I would ever feel this way. I’m a little jealous of my sister, Heather. Not her looks, her messy house, her thankless job, or anything obvious. I’m envious of the one thing I’ve tried so hard to control, unpredictability. I pride myself on being organized and in control. I have my calendar filled out weeks in advance, my daughter’s elementary school applications are complete and I’ve booked the restaurant for our 25th wedding anniversary already. With all this pre planning, why the heck would I want the instability of my sister’s chaotic life? I guess it’s the idea of not knowing what lies ahead. Maybe I need to mix it up a tad, be more spontaneous. Guess what, the rigid scheduling ends here! Today I will eat before I go to the gym not after, and I will fore go the dry cleaner for an out of the blue trip to the hair salon. Okay so it’s not exactly a tattoo or a car I can’t afford, but hey it works for me!

I’m always so proud of my daughters advanced ability in speech. She’s always been ahead of the curve when it came to talking, and if I’m completely honest I’ve been pretty quick to brag about it.

Well now I’m facing karmageddon. Sasha speaks so well she’s started telling anyone and everyone exactly what Mommy has to say in private. My mother in law now knows I call her devil woman, my babysitter heard I am less then pleased with her dish washing skills, and my sister found out she needs to lose weight! (That could hardly have come as a shock.) Who knows what other gems my little genius has stored in her memory bank? I’m terrified to leave the house for fear of what she will share.

I guess I could praise people more freely but that would only arouse more suspicion. For the time being I’ll just have to keep myself armed with cookies at all times-should I need to plug the pie hole of the worlds smallest human Dictaphone.

It just never occurred to me my daughter might not share my interests. I signed her up for dance class and she hates it. How can that be? I loved the frilly pink tutu and the sparkly hair clips! I could not wait for the recitals and the costumes crammed with sequence. Sasha cries the minute I walk in with a pair of tights. How then can my offspring reject this opportunity? Before I can get her into the car she’s rolling in the dirt. Her light pink tights are covered with grass stains. I never would have desecrated my dance wear in this way -that was my sister Heather who hated….NOOOOO! Please God don’t tell me she’s inherited the anti ballet gene. If that’s the case I have a whole lot of drama ahead of me and not the kind you bring flowers backstage for. I’m calling my Mother right now. I need a preemptive strategy.

I know this is wrong but I can’t help it. Every time my husband wants to take on more responsibility with our daughter I deflect it. It’s not that I don’t want the help; it’s just that I can’t stand the amount of extra work he creates in the process. If he makes her lunch I don’t see the heart shaped PB&J, I only see the jelly stained walls and sink filled with unwashed dishes. If they go to the park I know he won’t bring extra clothes and wipes, so what’s the point of relaxing with a magazine when I know any minute I’m going to get the s.o.s. call. When he gives her a bath it’s wet towels for days. Why can’t he just let me handle it? Then I watch my daughter’s glee as she splashes Daddy in the face, and I realize sometimes a girl just wants her Daddy. That being said, sometimes a Mom just wants her girls Daddy to use one dish, one towel, and pack the freakin wipes!

I’m just not used to being criticized, at least by anyone who’s not my younger and more bitter sister. My husband adores me, my daughter clings to my side and my friends use me as their role model. With all that positive reinforcement, why am I so bothered by the fact my Mother-in-law hates me? As a card carrying people pleaser it really displeases me I cannot please her!

I mean come on. My child is picture perfect and you could eat dinner off of my laundry room floor. My husband loves my Mediterranean chicken and the pre school principal called me "invaluable." So what more does this shrew want from me? Short of walking across the pool at her country club I’m fresh out of ideas.

Then it hit me. It’s not me she hates, it’s herself. My ability to be a fantastic wife and Mother makes her feel inferior. But just in case it is just hatred for me I’m hedging my bets and buying her love with a trip to Vegas and a gift card for laser hair removal

Guess who just got elected play group president? Me!!! So I ran unopposed, but who cares. Now I can make good use of my under used party planning skills and keen sense of organization. I’m going to start with a mandatory bi weekly rotation of costumes in the dress up corner. Some of those clothes have been worn way too much. Who wants to be seen in yesterdays princess costume? I’m going to suggest an “Evening of Elegance” for the school fundraiser. Just because we have it in the one room school building doesn’t mean it can’t be black tie.

I guess I do need an outlet for all my brainstorms. Just because I’m a stay at home Mom doesn’t mean I can’t brighten my little corner of the world. I just have to make sure to self regulate my enthusiasm. I am still the only senior ever to be impeached as prom committee president!

I’m a little peeved at my Mother. The other day I left the baby with her while I ran an errand. When I came back, my Mother looked red faced and exhausted. As I was putting my daughter into the car My Mom referred to her as that “defiant little thing.” I was too shocked to respond. I drove away fuming. I know a lot of Mom’s say their kids are perfect, but mine really is…I swear! She’s on a schedule, she eats well, and she sleeps in her own bed. What could have driven my mother to that insane conclusion other than an early onset of dementia? I finally got up the nerve to confront my mother about the grossly inaccurate comments directed toward my little angel. Her response was “she’s stubborn, just like her Mother. She insisted on drinking juice on my couch and when I tried to take it she threw it at me” Then she said I was the same way at two. Could my baby be entering the terrible two’s? God I hope not. I just re did the living room and bought a white sofa!

When I was growing up, one thing I never had to worry about was being out done by my sister, Heather. I don’t mean that in a nasty way, it’s just that we have always excelled at very different things. In high school while I was busy scoring scholastically, Heather was busy scoring in the back of a Camaro. I was the go to girl for running committees and club events. Teachers always found it surprising we were sisters. So you can imagine my surprise when my appointment as replacement for Heather as Mom’s night out coordinator was met with a thundering lack of enthusiasm. Some Mom’s were actually down right hostile. I would think that a tasteful wine and cheese night at my home would be preferable to Heathers b.y.o.b. outside the window of the men’s locker room behind the YMCA! I suggested a book club and was shot down in favor of Heather’s beer, bingo, and boy bands night. I just have to realize that my sister has proven herself a leader in this field. She served in this position and left her mark. I simply need to take a deep breath…..and release my expectations!

Ever since I’ve moved back to the area my Husband’s been begging me to go on one of his work trips. I promised once I settled our daughter into a pre school and organized our new house I would. Well here’s the problem, I’d love some alone time with my guy it’s just that I’m too nervous to leave the baby overnight with a babysitter. I know she’s two and it’s just one weekend, but I’m not sure I could be comfortable with someone else running my show… especially when that someone else is my sister, Heather. Don’t get me wrong, Heather is a great Mom- for her kids. I bet she’ll bake the tastiest cake with the sharpest file for her son’s future reform school. He’s not a bad kid, but my sister is very permissive. Her kids drink soda, and not just at birthdays. She counts fruit roll ups as an actual fruit and the television is always on and it’s not PBS. She would be really mad if I didn’t ask her to baby-sit first. She’s always maintained the right of first refusal whether it’s my daughter or my wardrobe. I just know she’ll give her fast food just to spoil my totally organic streak. She’s just dying to let her go to the playground with out anti bacterial hand wipes and prance around in a poly cotton blend. I’ve got it, I’ll send Heather on the work trip and I’ll stay home. At least her kids will be germ free for 48 hours and my husband will have someone to play pool with.