the wiener mom's day off

Today was my day off. Lovely Daddy wiener took the day off to give me a day off. Weeks ago Daddy wiener decided to take a weekend and a day off to learn how to build a chair from a log. Which actually sounds as interesting to me as an actual log. But I pretend. When he told me that he was going to do this, I said "Wish I could take a day off to do something that I've always wanted to do..." He then decided to give that chance by taking a day off, but didn't date check with me, so with my day off approaching I had no plans and everyone I know was working. It was a lovely thought and though I may not make contact with anyone else I decided to make the most of it.

I started by sleeping in. Ahhh... Whereas Daddy wishes to be industrious and further his intellectual growth by learning a new skill, I choose to sleep. Blessed sleep. I feed Little wiener in bed at 7. My stomach is growling to be fed, but I ignore, knowing that once I am really and truly up I am in fact really and truly up. Little wiener is too too cute and is so excited to be in my presence that he must look away from me. His huge grins and farting noises are the perfect way to start the day, followed by another two hours of sleep.

After waking up at 9, I shower. Shower, I tell you! Alone! No shower negotiating, no Little wiener laying on the bath mat in wait, no one whipped open the curtain to play peek-a-boo with me in all my nakedness. I actually shaved my legs and then post-shower, applied the self-tanning lotion that requires stillness and nudity for 20 minutes post-application. Am working on my pasty legs, which never seem to get as much gentle golden color as my arms in the summer. I'm not a sun goddess by any means, but feel healthier with a small amount of glow. Have always wondered why my legs do not receive the same sun as my upper body...

Went and had breakfast at the coffee shop to read Marian Keyes' new book on loan from a friend who has it loan from the library, so time is crucial. I thought I'd be very sophisticate and order a croissant (chocolate of course, otherwise what would be the point?) and an iced coffee, chocolate type thing. Did not do well with the sophistication and could barely choke down the coffee over the two hours that I sat and read-did not have the same problem with the croissant.

Went home to feed Little wiener and then set out to meet my wonderful neighbor for lunch downtown where she works. Decided to be environmentally conscious (and too cheap to pay for parking) and take the bus. I had to have Daddy Wiener (bus veteran) to help me figure out how to do it. I am mortified of public transportation. Let me reword; I am mortified of any type of transportation that involves a schedule. My family traveled a lot in my youth and I've been trained to assume that buses/planes/trains/ferries, etc. will be early and/or may never arrive. I anxiously await the arrival of the mode and breathe a sigh of relief when it finally gets there and I get on, only to become anxious again when I wait for my arrival at my hoped-for destination. Often I get off the bus sooner than I have to for fear that it will be the closest that I can get to my final destination. Then I usually watch the bus drive by and stop where I should have gotten off. Better safe than sorry.

Of course I got to the bus stop early and what do you know? The number 19 never came. I finally with nervous sweat got on the number 3 at the driver's assurance that it was going to the Capitol square, where I got off a stop early. I met C and we ventured down State street, through the thongs of shoppers looking for discounts at Maxwell Street Days and then to a little Italian restaurant with sidewalk seating. We had a lovely lunch while we discussed the grand ideas in life, something the wieners rarely show any interest in. We discussed the question: would the "old me" be happy or disappointed in the me I have become? Interesting question... We also discussed the fact that there are points in our not so distant pasts that we have completely forgotten. Jobs that we forgot we had, people we forgot we were friends with. It is interesting that something that is so central to a person's life at the time can be forgotten so easily with time. Maybe I'm just getting old. If you need to leave the computer to discuss these grand ideas with someone; go ahead, I'll still be here.

You're back. Good. We walked on down the street and to the Union where we decided to leave the question of ice cream up to fate. If the line was short, it was meant to be... Unfortunately fate did not favor us, but instead the 30 or so people in line. Once again it was time for me to fear getting on the bus. I decided to walk to the bus stop a little early, so as not to miss it. 45 minutes early may have been a bit much, but I didn't miss it! I read my book on a bench and sweat profusely. I got on the bus when it came home, actually got off at the stop closest to my house (yeah me!) and walked the block home where I was greeted by happy wieners, big and small. I was very glad to see those wieners and hugged and kissed each one. Litttle wiener seemed particularly thrilled to see me again, perhaps believing that I was gone for good, not having a keen grasp of object permanence.

It was a good day off, nothing eventful, but nonetheless full of things I don't get to do on a normal day. Wieners don't like it when I read and ignore them. Wieners also don't enjoy shopping at sidewalk sales and don't do all that well at quaint restaurants without children's menus. They do love the bus though...

It was funny, the first couple hours of my adventure I had an uneasy feeling that I was forgetting something, or missing something. I think it was just the lack of responsibility for anyone but myself. There was no worrying about bringing along extra underwear for Middle wiener, or a binky for Little wiener. No worrying about what everyone would eat and how long it would take us to get to the bus stop (wieners are notoriously slow walkers). I was free and as much as I liked it, I also felt a small bit of loneliness. Crazy? Not sure, but maybe someday I'll have another day off and find out.

the wiener mom is too too obviously not under 21

The wiener mom went to the grocery store today. She was directed to buy a case of beer for Daddy wiener. The liquor department of the grocery store is papered with signs, every flat surface demands I.D. You will be denied without I.D. Do not attempt to buy without I.D. Go back out to the car now and get your I.D. Even, belligerence at I.D. checking law will not be tolerated (?)
The wiener mom steps up to the cashier, loads case of beer onto checkout counter and dutifully presents I.D. As previously stated, the wiener mom is a rule-following rule follower. Cashier scans case of beer and proceeds to tell the wiener mom to pony up $26.84. The cashier doesn't look at my I.D. I re-present said I.D. and wait to be cleared. He glances at it and restates my total. The wiener mom is too too obviously not under 21.
I know that, of course, I'm thirty-ish, very far from 21. He could at least humor me with a faux check. I must look old today. Is it the sagging breasts (that still garner a lot of sneaky looks from old men)? Is it the wrinkles? I know that it isn't the white hairs. The wiener mom's oldest pre-wiener friend, Troopa, was here on Sunday and helped me say bye-bye to the bad hairs. I just really and truly do not look that young anymore.
I have been fooling myself for a long time (apparently). I still see myself as a young twenty-ish thing. I still feel like that too, except when I spend all day running after wieners. I still have quite a few moments were I can't even believe that I have three wieners, am I old enough to do that? Yes, apparently I am.
Maybe next time I should have a belligerent fit at not being carded. That would show them that I've still got some fight left in me. Until my back starts hurting...

the wiener mom and her middle wiener

It has come to my attention that it is a sad state indeed to be a middle wiener. Not being a middle one or a wiener, this has escaped my attention until recent talks with Daddy wiener. Middle wiener watched Big wiener turn 6, have a party at Chuck E. Cheese, lose his first tooth and receive subsequent surprise money from a curious winged creature in the night. He traipses along as we take Big wiener to play dates, art classes, and swimming lessons.

All in all I'd have to say that life sucks right now for the middle wiener. What's happening in his life? Grown-ups are forcing him to empty his bowels on a potty! That and all of the above. Oh and on top of that, he is now sharing me with Little wiener and Big wiener all day long.

Though I hadn't noticed the fact that his life sucked until very recently, I did notice the effects of the suckiness on him. I was pulling my hair out (just the white ones) because his behavior in the last month has been so bad. He doesn't listen. He shrieks all the time. He fights with Big wiener. He shrieks all the time. He won't use words to tell us what he wants, just (you guessed it) shrieks. Daddy wiener and I have been fighting each other to see who gets to run away.

Then I have this epiphany. I start thinking about all the things listed above, all the reasons that Middle wiener might be feeling a little left out. This could be enough to piss the little rogue off. He's an intense wiener anyway, so this last month has just pushed him over the edge. I feel badly that it took me a month to realize that this might be the problem and the impetus for all the shrieking, but in my defense it's hard to think above the SHRIEKING.

On the airplane coming home from Fabulous Fargo, after being delayed for three hours, Middle wiener is sitting next to me with his too big head drooping and bouncing around as he fights sleep. I tried several times to reposition him with his head on my lap, but he wasn't interested and in fact produced several shrieking type noises, though quiet. I wanted so badly to hold him, but he didn't want to be held. It was really much more for me than for him, I just wanted to show some penance for not noticing his inner turmoil sooner. Sitting there, watching him droop and bounce and look altogether highly uncomfortable, my heart was breaking for him.

At one time he had been my baby, he was the Little wiener. He seems so stuck and so frustrated. He's bigger, but not big enough. He's little but not really very little. I just wanted to take him in my arms and hug him, kiss him, whisper to him that he would always be my special boy. I felt so sad that he might be sad, or frustrated in the very least. There are so many things that he wants to do and express that he just can't yet. I finally did get so tired of the drooping and bobbing head that I just scooped him up and put him on my lap, a place he's not spent much time lately. I kissed that blond head and breathed in that Middle wiener smell. I miss my happy little Middle wiener. I decided right then with him sleeping on my lap, flying through a thunderstorm towards home, that I needed to do a better job. I can't let him get looked over. I can't let his day pass with nothing special. I need to make sure that every day he knows I love him and he's special. I'm his only wiener mom and more importantly (and more selfishly) he's my only Middle wiener and I love him to pieces.

Update: Since I made that decision and we've been home three days, I have made an extra effort every day to do something special with him. We're taking a parent/preschooler art class together on Saturday mornings for the summer. I told him and he was so confused, he coudn't believe that Big wiener wasn't coming. My sweet precious Middle wiener. Oh, the shrieking has been drastically reduced! Who knows if my love and kindness had anything to do with it, or he was just hurting his own ears...

the wiener mom and her wonderful wieners take flight

I have just recently arrived home from my first three wiener trip-just recently as in two days ago, but it kind of takes that much time to recover. My wieners and I visited the fair city of Fargo, ND to see Daddy wiener's 98 year old grandpa. Also on the trip were Daddy wiener's sister, husband and three kids and Daddy wiener's parents. Given the price of gas and also the even higher price of my sanity we didn't drive the 9 hours, but flew with frequent flier miles (good thing all that charging finally paid off). The wieners are not a car-loving people. Big wiener is from the classic "are we there yet"camp. Middle wiener is from the less common, but equally annoying "drop everything you give me on the floor and scream" and little wiener likes to keep it simple. He just cries until he passes out from fatigue. So, 9 hours in a car wasn't going to cut it for us. We flew.

The flying itself went very well. All wieners were well-behaved, save Middle wiener's desire to unbuckle his seat belt constantly. Side note: it's hard to believe that in a huge, terrifying, possible death inducing airplane crash, that piece of nylon is going to save anyone. Lucky for us the two flights were both under an hour, so short that there wasn't even beverage service, but small bowls with lids of orange juice and water. I couldn't do it, water isn't supposed to come pre-packaged in a bowl with a foil top. I strongly suspected it would taste like plastic. I have a strong aversion to airplane food anyway, good thing no one serves it anymore. Big and Middle wiener, sitting with daddy, were thrilled with their bowls of water and Middle wiener proceeded to spill only half of it on himself and his seat. I was sitting across the aisle with Little wiener, who was busy charming anyone in viewing distance with his smile and mohawky hair do.

So the flying itself was fine, the Minneapolis airport was lovely. They have a play land type area that was very popular with the wieners, not however more popular than the 75 cent rides on the vehicles that go up and down and make noise (outside the FREE play area). Daddy wiener got suckered into a couple dollars worth of up and down.

We arrived in Fargo on Friday night, in time to swim in the Pirate themed indoor pool. Hugely popular with wieners young and old. Me, I'm not that into swimming, you can theme it up as much as you want, but I'm still not going for it, unless I absolutely must. We did swimming, eating, visiting, more swimming.

Great Grandpa wiener was thrilled to have us visit him. He freely handed out the key to his Rally scooter thing that gets him around the old folks' home. Not sure if children under the age of 8 should be driving, even 2 miles per hour in the hall, but of course the kids were incredible pleased with themselves. By the time we finished with it, they had only crashed into the wall a few times, dislodged the cargo basket, pinched one finger (Middle wiener, of course), and had successfully avoided injuring any residents. Great Grandpa wiener commented, over the screaming, how well behaved the children were. Yes, he's hard of hearing.

Monday it was time to head home to Madison. Our first flight was on a small plane from Fargo to Minneapolis and hit a little turbulence, nothing that bothered the wieners, or me. Until, a crazy flight attendant came over the little P.A system and told us she wasn't going to collect trash from the little bowls of water because IT WAS TOO DANGEROUS!.Are they ever supposed to say things like that? Aren't they supposed to tell you everything is going to be okay as you plummet from the sky? Then, to make matters worse, upon our arrival to Minneapolis and our taxi into a gate, she came back on the P.A. and said, "Well we made it." I think she needs her P.A privileges revoked.
Of course we couldn't get home without a delay. A two hour delay in Minneapolis and then another hour on the runway because a light was burnt out, got us home by midnight. I sat with Big wiener and Middle wiener on the last flight and happily let them fall asleep with their heads in my lap. Well, Big wiener did that on his own. Middle wiener, in his own style, refused to lay down and was asleep sitting up with his little head bobbing all around until I finally fought him into a laying down position and all was peaceful. Until we got off the plane and Middle wiener cried all the way down the tunnel thingy, through the gate to the baggage claim, through the parking garage, and most of the drive home from the airport. Oh well, it can't be peaceful all the time, or even 10% of the time really.