June 29th, 2008
Written by: Julie Cole
We actually did better than just survive the wedding. The kiddo contingent all did a pretty decent job if it.
A few photos later, kids were ditched at home and off we went for an evening of dining and dancing.
At one point I found myself shaking it up on the dance floor with three mamas who are married to the Daly boys (cousins of the bride on the other side). They are a great trio and I was in good company….they are all ‘prolific’ in the baby-making department as well. At one point, one mama stopped dancing, huddled us in and pointed out that between the four of us dancing mamas, we have 17 children. Good grief…that’s some average! Suitably, we toasted, laughed at the pregnant women with their mocktails (“better them than us, ha,ha, cheers!”), then sent husbands back to the bar to fetch drinks. We were quite fabulous as we tossed our heads back in laughter without a care in the world. Who needs to keep track of time on a night like that!?
That all came crashing down this morning at 6:00am. The Fantasy-land of last nights festivities ended very abruptly indeed. As one of the mamas so simply put as a Facebook status update this morning: “I hurt in so many ways”. So between the four dancing mamas and our 17 kids, today we have had to collectively deal with headaches, sore feet, exhaustion, and engorged breasts.
So, seems the role of “Mother of the Flower girl/Ring bearer” was easily survived. Where things went pear-shaped was when a few mamas got together on a rare night when no one was actually pregnant!
June 22nd, 2008
Written by: Julie Cole
When you think of wedding stress you probably think the most stressed out person involved is the Bride. Maybe in the case of a high strung Mother of the Bride (MOB), she’s the likely candidate. Once I was at a wedding where there had been a recent divorce of the Groom’s parents and the most stressed out person was the one who was instructed to ensure that the respective parents didn’t cross paths. It’s always stressful too, when there is that loose cannon alcoholic uncle who is likely to either pass out at the table, make an inappropriate speech or hit on the sophomore bridesmaid.
But, with all those stresses buzzing around, my personal experience tells me that no one is more stressed out than the mother of the flower girl and ring bearer! The thought of your children ruining the wedding of a loved one….well, it weighs very heavily.
I’m a bit of a veteran since next weekend will be the fourth wedding my children have been involved in. One daughter, who is painfully reliable has been in all three to date. Problem is, the children in my family can be divided into two categories: the “completely reliable” and the “pathetically unreliable”. The over-experienced Flower Girl around here is very lonely in her category since all four of her siblings fit into the latter. My stress levels have been recently peeked since my ONE reliable kid has been benched for this one.
The picture you see is of two of my girls in cousin Christina’s wedding last year. I thought that by inviting one of the kids from ‘unreliable’ camp into the wedding party showed that she was a good sport – even on her wedding day she was prepared to handle anything that was coming her way. I was stressed, but respected that Bride’s spirit!
Christina’s sister, Carol Ann is marrying Andrew on Saturday and three of my highly unreliables are in the wedding. Clearly, they are a couple who like to live on the edge. Last summer, Groom Andrew would make cracks (as my baby crawled around) about getting him trained up for the trip down the aisle. I thought Andrew was joking, apparently I was wrong.
So the kiddie contingent of at the Carol Ann/Andrew wedding is looking like this:
- my eldest son, who is amazing (but wasn’t diagnosed with autism for no reason);
- my diva three-year-old who has proven that she is a ‘bridezilla’ in the making, when at her first dress fitting she had a melt-down because she couldn’t wear her dress NOW and directly to the wedding. Oh, and don’t refer to the flower wreath on her head as a headpiece, because it is actually her ‘crown’;
- my 20-month-old who is, well, 20-months-old! He naps everyday from 12:00 noon – 2:00pm. The wedding is at 1:00pm, so he will either be asleep or absolutely psycho.
After hearing countless elders in the family ask me when I was going to cut the boys’ hair (I like the surfer dude look), I took the Bride aside and asked her opinion. She firmly stated that she has told me three times that she doesn’t care about their hair, if the baby sleeps through the wedding, or if the diva dances down the aisle.
That was a moment of clarity for me – this is a couple who GETS that a wedding is about the people, and not the performance. If the chick in the tierra can speak with that kind of authority, maybe it was time for me to take a chill pill. I mean, should the Bride really be counselling me the week before the wedding? Yikes – what a reality check!
So that has opened up a whole new set of issues for me to worry about. For example, I still have the same nail polish on my toes as I had for her sister’s fall wedding. I wish I could say I was exaggerating.
No longer am I worrying about how things are going to go next Saturday at 1:00om. I’m committed to worrying about getting to other important issues surrounding this wedding – first up, getting a pedicure!
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June 15th, 2008
Written by: Julie Cole
Remember when you were a kid and every mother’s day you’d ask your parents “when is it kid’s day?” We all got the same answer and now deliver it up to our kids: “everyday is kids day!”
Well, that’s how I kinda feel about Father’s Day.
Don’t get me wrong, I completely appreciate all the stuff great dads do and I make that statement with tongue placed firmly in cheek.
Around here, daddy-o was away with work for most of this past week. He did let it slip that while he worked hard during the day, his evenings included such events as a cruise on a yacht, two trips to the casino, and dinner at a yacht club. I’m sure he was pretty close to fessing up to an afternoon on the golf course when the expression on my face prompted him to hit the self-censor button – and fast. He was home for one night, then left again returning this evening, on Father’s Day. We took him out for dinner which turned mildly disastrous. One kiddo had a melt-down that required me to lug the 45lbs of slobbering mess outside of the restaurant to pull it together. I couldn’t tell if the looks of horror I was getting were the result of her dramatic fits of rage, or if my sweat moustache was drawing their attention. Either way, not my proudest moment. Said child had two more meltdowns before the day was up. Hysteria is contagious around our house, so when one is freaking out, the others follow suit because they ‘feel sorry’ for their distraught sibling. As sweet as that is, bedtime turned into a three ring circus and I was pretty much acting the part of the clown.
I finally made my way downstairs, licking my wounds, to find the house in exactly the same state – a complete dump with groceries that I had picked up hours before still sitting on the kitchen floor. I walked into the family room to find daddy-o lying on the couch watching TV. You can imagine the ‘WTF?” look he got, accompanied by a few words complimenting that look. His response was simple: “well, it is Father’s Day!”
His only saving grace is that he is a fantastic daddy-o. If he was anything less, that cheeky statement would have prompted me to implement a “no Father’s Day” rule going forward in our house for ever and eternity!
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June 8th, 2008
Written by: Julie Cole
I was recently driving along in the mini-van listening to my kids rabbit on about all the things they want. Nothing irritates me more than being party to privileged kids’ conversations about “stuff” they want and don’t have. Don’t get me wrong, mine are not exactly spoiled – if they are wearing a fancy label, it most likely came in a hand me down bag. They didn’t get a wii for Christmas like most of their peer counterparts, and they are required to share any and all big ticket items. We even have a “no birthday present rule” at their parties. But, I look at my kids and the opportunities they have and swear that in my next life, I’m coming back as one of my own kids.
So there I was driving along in a fit of disgust. It seemed the perfect time to explain that we should sponsor a foster child.
The suggestion was greeted with tremendous excitement. It was decided we should sponsor a boy in an effort to equalize the gender difference in the family. We arrived home, got online, and found ourselves a great kid to sponsor (yes, it was that easy). His picture didn’t speak to us the way his name did: Oscar Mario. In a home obsessed with Super Mario, they were delighted to find a foster brother with “Mario” in his name.
What followed was amazing. Kids were doing chores and asking that their pocket money be sent to Oscar Mario. Letters were written and pictures drawn for Oscar Mario. Suddenly I started hearing things like “instead of asking for another virtual pet, I’m going to ask mama to send extra money to Oscar Mario”. They’ve requested that some Mabel products go to him, so if you find yourself cruising around Costa Rica and happen to see a kid with nothing except some Mabel’s Labels, that’s our guy.
My five-year-old was curious to find out if Oscar Mario lived on our planet (?!) so we grabbed the opportunity to teach them about geography, language, and culture – globes were out, encyclopedias strewn about the family room and all because they felt connected to Oscar Mario. That connection made them keen to learn everything about his world….er, or planet 
So in the words of some obnoxious financial lending institution:
The cost of sponsoring Oscar Mario – $35.00 per month
The cost of seeing my kids learn the lesson of giving – priceless!
But, so ya know, we still have a lot of work to do. Tonight the five-year-old asked when Oscar Mario would send her a present. Sheeeesh!
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June 2nd, 2008
Written by: Julie Cole
I suppose it’s difficult to be ‘in the loop’ if you don’t watch TV and only communicate and socialize with small children and their mamas. When facebook statuses started reflecting joy over David Cook last week, I had to fess up that the name didn’t even ring a bell.
With all the Sex in the City hype, I decided on opening night to pop down to the cinema and pick up a couple of tickets. The ticket kid rolled her eyes when I said “wow, really, sold out? Even the 10:20pm show?” It was like I lived on another planet.
Since I’ve only ever seen show re-runs, I have some knowledge gaps. I don’t know why Charlotte got divorced or who Carrie dated first – was Aidan before or after Burger? I did get tickets for last night and observed that movie-goers felt compelled to dress as cast members. I must have missed the memo suggesting cargo pants and Mabel’s Labels t-shirts were a no-go. Are we supposed to just know this??
I was recently in NYC for a sort of swanky event that was attended by a few celebs and media types. When someone entered the room, you could feel a buzz. That was my cue to grab the nearest b-lister and ask “and that would be….?” On one occasion I said “hmmm, he looks familiar” but it turned out to be a celeb’s personal assistant.
In an effort to connect to the happenings outside the mama world, I decided that turning on the TV once in a while would be a great start. Turns out, I still don’t know what’s happening on Grey’s Anatomy or any reality shows, but do manage to catch old Law and Order re-runs playing late night…..you know, when Ben Stone was the Assistant DA, long before Jack McCoy’s time. Ah, the good ol’ L&O days…..before Chris Noth was Big.
Seems for now there is a disconnect between those things going on in the outside world, and those going on in my world. You will all agree when I say we can celebrate that pop culture has NOTHING on mama culture! Well, that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.
(and the picture is of me with Zack Levi, star of “Chuck”. Didn’t know who he was, but did know that he was hunka hunka!)
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