I Freakin' Hate Bugs

So I just got finished reading my buddy Scope's post about spiders, and it got me to thinking about bugs and how much I hate them.

Sorry bugs, I hate you. All of you.

Then I got to thinking about Frack and about how my baby boy is leaving in 5 short days to travel to Uganda on a three and a half week mission. Going on a mission to help build a school in an impoverished country is a great opportunity for Frack. He will be seeing and doing things that most kids his age may never get the chance to do and learning important survival and life skills.

But they cautioned us about the bugs.

Mainly the mosquitoes, and in Uganda they carry diseases like Malaria. Frack has gotten all of the necessary shots for his trip abroad, but I'm SUPER paranoid about the mosquitoes. The kids have already start taking anti-malaria medications now, and will continue during their entire three and a half weeks there, then for a week after they return home. You have to know it's a concern when the packing list and itineraries all require a treated mosquito net for sleeping,  I started talking to all the other moms and we all decided that if we can treat the mosquito net for sleeping, then we can treat the clothes for wearing. And the sleeping bags, and their shoes and clothes and their back packs and whatever else is accompanying them on their journey. I just decided to treat the shit out of everything.

Cuz I freakin' hate bugs. And I especially hate mosquitoes. In Uganda.

Now don't get me wrong, I don't hate Uganda. Uganda was voted one of the best places to travel to in 2012, and I couldn't be happier that my son will get to experience this beautiful country on an exhibition, I just hate the Ugandan mosquitoes and bugs. And then there is a long laundry list of other things I am worried about. Of course the helicopter mom is worried about everything but despite my worries, I recognize that it's time for Frack to spread his 16 year-old wings and fly.

I just don't want him flying around with the bugs that carry disease.

Separation Anxiety: A Re-Post

I had the most horrid dream last night.

Seriously, I'm kinda freaking out. In my subconscious.

The thing is I didn't know I was freaking out. I know I have been thinking about it. A lot. But I think I know exactly what the dream is about. My subconscious is doing all the tough work, while on the outside I appear cool as a cucumber.

Yeah, I think I know what I'm freaking out about. As a matter of fact I'm quite sure, I know what I'm freaking out about.

I dreamed that Frick was...abducted. Horrible. I don't even want to give it credence because it was a nightmare, but when I woke up, I realized why it happened. It's quite clear I'm having separation anxiety. And evidently, I'm having it bad, because in the dream I couldn't breathe; the pain was so palpable. I guess I'm grateful that my subconscious is working it out, because come August, I may be able to leave my baby girl in the middle of Manhattan, stress free. I won't say worry free, but by then I will have hoped to have come to terms with her leaving and made my peace with it.

Today I decided to do a re-post from a time when I was my kid's universe.... and while I'm glad they have grown into who they are today, I sure do miss those days.

This post debuted on Feb 26, 2009


Sometimes I miss the good old days, back when my kids were really little. Those were the days of innocence, before they both became TWM (Teens With Mouths) and I was their God. I was a stay at home mom and since Frick and Frack are only 19 months apart, we pretty much did everything together. My two amigos and I; they were then and will always be, the yin to my yang. We are still very close, me and my kids, the difference between then and now is that now they know everything and have all the answers. My bad for not seeing it their way. These days I get a lot of, “What-ever mom!”

Anyway, yesterday I was over at Vodka Mom’s blog, I Need a Martini Mom, and she had posted a wonderful, sincere note of gratitude to all of her 541 blog followers. (I stand in awe. The woman is a legend) In perfect Vodka Mom fashion she closed the post with a funny story about her kids which gave me the inspiration for today’s post! Many thanks to Vodka Mom and her wicked sense of humor! (here in Boston, wicked is a GREAT thing! like wicked pissa!)

So, as I told you, when the kids were babies, the three of us were like matching luggage. We traveled everywhere together. Where ever I went, they would follow, especially around the house. If I were cooking, my babies were on the kitchen floor, happily playing with wooden spoons, whisks and pots and pans. If I were watching TV with them, it was usually a Disney Sing Along Video, and we would play together as they sang along with the Disney classics. If I had to go to the bathroom, they would follow me right behind me into the bathroom and find something to get into while mom took care of business.

The only time this bathroom business got tricky was when AUNT FLO came to visit. To tell you the truth, I never really thought much about the manner in which I ushered them out of the bathroom during those times, but I knew I had somehow managed to do it. As I said, I never gave it a second thought until one day, when my baby girl was sitting on the bathroom floor opening and closing the doors under the bathroom sink while I applied my make-up. She came across a box of tampons and proceeded to open it up and take one out. She studied it intently for a few moments. It was almost like I could see her brilliant little mind working overtime to figure out what the strange item was. She held up the single, un-opened Tampax and said triumphantly, “Look mommy. This is your privacy!”

My little future brain surgeon had figured it all out. The strange item equated to mommy’s privacy. I soon realized that I must have consistently held the Tampax in my hand while ushering my babies out of the bathroom while explaining, “Mommy needs her privacy.”

A child’s mind is a wondrous thing. Oh how I miss those days!!