I’m always a little leery about meeting other Sherwood moms. I don’t know if it’s just my little town or not, but I’ve come across so many snotty moms here. Every conversation degrades into a litany of accomplishments – how smart their kids are, how beautiful their children, their wealth, their house, blah, blah, blah. I spent five years of my life dealing the pompus wind-bag lawyers, the last thing I want is to hang out with a bunch of pompus wind-bag moms. I can pretty much spot these types of moms a mile a way from their coiffed hair and spotless outfits and I give them lots of room.

So when I was invited to join a book club with a group of unknown women, I felt a bit of trepidation. I figured the odds of hitting a wind-bag were pretty high but the lure of good books brought me round so cajolled Kevin into taking on the girls alone last night and I headed out.

Upon arrival, I immediatley scoped out the shoes. I find you can tell alot about a person by their feet/shoes. Toe poish that matching shoe color with a three inch spiked heel is not a good sign. So I was quite pleased to be greeted by the hostess who was comfortably barefoot. Old sneakers and flip-flops were the shoe of choice amoung the ladies gathered and I could breath a sigh of relief. And their shoes didn’t lead me astray. I haven’t quite pegged all the personalities yet but everyone seemed like a talker with little reservation. Of course, I was the new girl of the group so there was definately that “old friend” vibe going around which is always fun to be a part of. I have a feeling we could have some good rip-roaring discussions if the right fuse was lit. Just what you want in a book group. I stayed late and chatted books with B who is a lover of fiction. We swapped must reads, browsed Powells.com, and revelled in that giddy joy of finding someone who adores reading. I’m optomistic that she can turn me onto some good titles and, even better, I’ll have someone to call up and rehash the good and the bad. Because in my opinion, a good book is even better when it’s loved by someone else too.

Kevin and Josh had a boy’s night out yesterday. They headed downtown to see a one man show where one guy acted out Star Wars, Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi. Amazingly enough, neither Kat nor I were interested in attending this play. They had a great time though so all was well with the force.

I decided to have a girls’ night and loaded up the twerps and headed to our new Red Robin. I like the chicken burgers and the munchkins love the mac and cheese. All was going great when we arrived. We got our balloons, sat down, started sipping milk, when Leina’s eyes turned into saucers and she began screaming at the top of her lungs. She jumped up on the booth seat and literary crawled across the table into my arms screaming, “MAKE IT GO AWAY MOMMY! MAKE IT GO AWAY!”

I was totally confused, concerned, and worried. What had caused my child to be reduced to a mass of screaming, crying and shaking child? Mr. Red Robin himself.

I knew Leina hated big characters. When we took her to Disneyland, the sight of the giant Mickey Mouse sent her into a full blown panic attack. Whenever a character appeared, Leina started screaming and shaking uncontrollably. Now, I expected giant mice and ducks at the Magic Kingdom. I was totally unprepared for a giant Red Robin to appear tableside on a Thursday night in Sherwood.

But he did.

Leina never ate a bite of food. She spent the entire meal in my lap tracking that big red bird. Everytime he turned our way, she would start screaming and crying. When he began moving closer, she would start chanting, “oh poop, oh poop, oh poop” louder and louder and louder as he got closer and closer and closer. Thank goodness we don’t swear or I’m quite sure “poop” would have morphed into another four letter word.

It got so bad that I asked to speak with the manager and asked if he could keep the Red Robin away from us. He was very understanding and did his best. He also let me in on the fact the Mr. Robin patrolled the floor every Tuesday and Thursday. Suffice to say, we will never return there for a meal on either of those days.

Leina is still talking about her bird adventures. She assures me that she is no longer scared of the robin and is willing to go back and talk to him. I, however, am still quite traumatized. Thankfully, Kulia found the whole experience totally exciting. Thank goodness. Having one shaking kid on my lap is bad enough. I can’t imagine hosting two!

As I sit here, typing, Kulia is at my feet with her very own keyboard. Yes, our small willfull child has broken us and we have given her her very own computer keyboard to pound on. Now, when I type up here, she settles at my feet to mimic me.
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At least for a while. Having tired of typing, she is now diligently removing all the paper from the printer tray and strewing it around the room. And there goes the tray itself! I think this child was genetically engineered to inflict the maximum amount of damage per pound of cuteness possible.

Oh well, that’s all the paper in the printer. She is now attempting to scale up my leg and has acutally managed to get her leg over the base of the arm rest. I must go before she…

Darn it. Too late.

There are three things I will never say about myself in front of my girls:

I am fat.

I am ugly.

I hate the way I look.

We all have bad days when we hate something about ourselves, but I will not teach my girls to worry about their weight or looks. The beauty I see in them runs much deeper than their skin. A girl who loves herself glows in a way that all the make-up and diet pills can never begin to compete with. So when I was changing this morning and Leina looked at me and said, “mommy, your tummy is so pretty,” I did not correct her. I did not point out the streach marks, the gallbladder scars or the extra fat gigglying in the morning light. Instead, I patted by round belly and said, “oh, thank you Leina, I think it’s pretty too.”

Never. Never. Never.

Leina loves to watch Cinderella.

Well, that isn’t entirely true.

Leina loves to watch parts of Cinderella. Being the kind and empathetic soul she is, Leina refuses to watch any part of the movie with the mean step-mother or step-sisters. She can’t stand watching anyone be mean to Cinderella and gets hysterical and upset if we even suggest watching those scenes. So we start the movie about 2/3rds of the way through when the fairy godmother appears to sing Bibbity Bobbity Boo. Leina loves to watch the magic transformation of the pumpkin, mice, horse and dog and, of course, when the prince sees Cinderella and falls in love.

I’m always a bit leery about the whole Disney princess stuff. You know, girls sitting around being beautiful waiting to be rescued by a handsome prince. It’s a bit passive and shallow in my mind. I’m all for hanging out in your grubbies and calling up guys instead of sitting around fully primped and waiting for the phone to ring. But I try to come to peace with the whole “rescue me” fairy tale. So imagine my surprise and delight tonight when Leina turned to me and said…

“Mommy, I don’t need a fairy godmother.”

“You don’t?” I replied, surprised.

“No mommy, I don’t need any magic. I can just walk to the ball myself.” Leina told me, nodding her head wisely.

Yes! That’s my girl! Who needs a magic godmother when you’ve got your own two feet and a good internal compass? Further questioning revealed that she planned on getting her dress from Target and not losing her shoes. Disney may have some sway but it sure is nice to know that she’s learning a bit of wisdom from her old mom as well!

Kevin had to work late today so the girls took me out for a birthday dinner. We headed to the best mac & cheese joint in town and chowed down. We had mac and cheese hands, cheeks, mouths, hair and clothing. It was awesome. Just the girls having a Friday night out on the town.

Kulia continues to work on her amazon yell. I did not dare trust her to feed herself the mac, but this did not deter her one bit. She would let out a rebel yell whenever I needed to shovel another fork full into her mouth and then she would sit there contently gumming her way away. Leina discovered the salt and pepper shakers and since it was a special celebration, I pretended to turn a blind eye while she sprinkled everything in sight. I feel very sorry for the bus boy who had to clean up after us so I left a large tip to cover the damage we’d caused.

Leina helped Kevin pick out my present this year and it was a giant bird feeder for the back yard. Only problem, they forgot the bird food. However, that can be easily rectified.

I can say with 100% confidence that 32 was a great year in my llife. For this next year, all I would change would be a little more sleep. Here’s hoping!