The 80's to the rescue!

Hmm, yes.  I'd scream too if I saw this on mom's bathroom counter top...



 How is a mom to handle this when dad is out of town?  Probably the same way she'd handle it when dad was IN town - since being the CEO of Bug Killing makes him roll his eyes.  First? You panic.  Because even though it was maybe only an inch long, it's still a centipede.  And GROSS!

Then?  You grab THIS...

The good thing about having my formative "hair" years in the 80's is that you can still to this day find a can of extra strength hair spray in my bathroom.  ALWAYS.  This is non-negotiable.  And, as it turns out, quite handy.

Then you grab the water glass that is always in my room (and there is always a water glass in my room.  Sometimes several.  I'm a big forgetter when it comes to taking them back downstairs), and empty the stale water in to the sink. You SPRAY THE HECK out of that stupid centipede... and they're kind of fragile looking so I thought the hair spray would act more quickly... but that thing ran all the way around the back of the sink before starting to stiffen up.  I may have been screaming "Die! Die!", but there were no witnesses to confirm.

Then?  You cover the hairspray engulfed creature with the glass and leave it to die a slow or quick death.  I'm not sure if the Big Sexy Hair fumes affected him the way they seem to affect my dog.  Which is to say she makes a huge production of leaving the bathroom when I spray my hair, like I've done something to personally offend her.  Whatever.  You leave it to die.

I'm guessing this thing should probably stay there in his "death curl" for at least two days before I dare to raise the glass and quickly smash him with a wad of Kleenex - because what if it's NOT dead?  Do you KNOW how hard it is to get dried super fabulous hold hair spray off of the counter tops?  Better safe than sorry. 

So, in the end I think we've all learned a lesson. 

And you might want to apologize to me now for making fun of my hairspray addiction. 

The line forms to the left.



Infuse this

I'm annoyed.

Which will come as no surprise to those who know me, as I'm generally at least a tiny bit annoyed by something going on around me.  But I can hold my tongue no longer.  I heard something on television today that raised the hackles on my back like a cornered porcupine:

"Lemon infused water." 
Used to describe this...

Oh, so by "Lemon infused Water" you mean LEMON WATER? 

I seriously am SO SICK of things being "infused" with other things.  We don't have flavored vodka anymore, we have infused vodka.  Flavored olive oil is now infused.  Strawberry shortcake is now made with "sugar infused strawberries".  Are you kidding me?  This is as out of control as the word "repurpose" was a few years ago.  Whenever a designer on television moved a dang chair it was "repurposed."  Shoes were repurposed as planters, hardback books were repurposed in to jewel boxes, mens ties were repurposed in to pot holders... it's still happening, only now they call it "upcycling." Because to say, "I'm using this cowboy boot as a planter" isn't really telling the whole story, correct? They had to say, "I've repurposed this cowboy boot to use as a planter", and today it would be, "I've upcycled this boot for planting."  The latter is actually the most confusing - don't you just love progress.

To drive home my point that this infusion infestation has crossed the line, I'm going to share with you that there are water infusion recipes out there.  Go ahead, Google it... I'll wait.  (Or click HERE, and really? It's water with food floating in it. Surprisingly there are no recipes for "Water infused with Ice." Because the leap to that from simple Ice Water is staggering. Are you sure people don't need a guide?) 

So, now that we've become addicted to the concept of INFUSING, I expect that before long we will see the following changes:

Loaded Baked Potatoes = Jacket Potatoes infused with butter and sour cream

Tide with Bleach = Tide infused with Decolorizing Agents

Pastel Pink = Red infused with White

Vacation = Entertainment infused Travel

Intravenous Plasma = IV Solution infused with Electrolytes

Old Age = Youth infused by Time

To leave it plain is to accept it as less than it could be?

Honestly folks, I'm not against things being slightly ostentatious.  I'll pay more for a label, I'll admit to some pretension about parts of town people live in, and I buy the expensive shampoo and conditioner.  I do.  You got me.  I'd rather wear a pair of Stephen Bonanno sandals than ones from Target, and I wish my diamond was from Tiffany & Co.

But the second they take my "Damage Remedy" shampoo and label it "Moisturizing Shampoo infused with Damage Repairing Nutrients"?  I'm switching brands.  Because at this moment in time? I'm infused with annoyance...

at least I'm not "mad" anymore. 

We need to start working on her endorsements

I'm not sure what happens at your house... but on the "next to last day of school", the day when they empty out desks and lockers?  We experience what is known as The Dump.  The Dump occurs when the child walks in the door, and immediately dumps whatever is contained in their armloads of collected stuff just inside the doorway.  Sometimes this is by the front door, sometimes by the garage door.

Yesterday my middle school daughter happened to come in after school through the garage door.  This is her yearly Dump - and I have to admit that it is an incredible effort. 

If this were a dive? 
I'd have to name it a Forward bi-directional layout with a full outward twist. OR, the DD1 Dump for short.

Notice how, when the pile of crap gently used school supplies hit the floor, they spread both towards the powder room and towards the stairs?  Notice how - with remarkable degree of difficulty - the crap gently used school supplies have actually turned the corner and started up the stairs themselves?  I'm telling you, this is Olympic level Dumping in it's most highly trained, world class form. 
Elite Dumping, if you will.

Score from the Irish/English/Italian Judge:  8.5

You GO girl!

My favorite name

So, before I had kids I was pretty certain that IF I had children, things would be a certain way.  I thought, for reasons of simply not knowing any better, that I would have control.  I would get to decide how this parenting relationship would go.  My children would be an example of put in a little effort... do the right thing... the results would speak for themselves.

And, just as surely as I would emerge after childbirth saying to people, "I had no idea it would be that painful, no one ever told me" (although in hindsight it was really more that I hadn't listened when they spoke because really?  How bad could it be if people kept doing it?), I was slapped in the face by the reality of parenthood. 

This shit? 

Is HARD.

When you are pregnant, your women friends who already have babies will try to tell you that getting that baby out of there is going to be difficult and painful.  Some women are born to give birth.  Well, OK, most women are born with the ability to actually GIVE birth... but some have an easier time with it.  Their bodies handle pain better, their minds control fear better, and their reproductive systems seem to know better what to do at the right time.  Then you have the rest of us.  And by "the rest of us", I mean pretty much all but like three people that I personally know.  The ones who tell you, in their sly way as to not scare you, "Keep an open mind about that epidural."  Because to take a class in childbirth is to believe that pain relief is something that is truly optional. And I suppose, if I were in a third world country, even considered a luxury.

I'm here to tell you that for me?  Epidural was not optional.  Oh, I thought it was.  I knew it would be "painful", but people have been doing this literally FOREVER, which is why we're all here.  If it was that poorly designed surely someone would have caught on and stopped this madness.  Right?  Anyway, until you experience some things you simply do not have a frame of reference for the situation.  Like not knowing that you were going to feel physical pain the first time your heart was broken.

Childbirth redefined pain for me.

Motherhood redefined love.  And patience.  And creativity.  And madness, boundaries, relationships, judgement, sleep requirements, etc.

Before I was a mom, seeing a child acting out in public?  Not on my watch.  Not gonna happen.
Before I was a mom there was a lot of that going on.  Not my kid, I will never let that happen, no way is that happening when I have children, oh how embarrassed they must be... you know.  Judgy stuff.

One thing that used to drive me nuts?  When a child over the age of about 3 called their mom "mama," and when a child of over about 6 called their mom "mommy."  NO FREAKING WAY.  I was not having that.  That is ridiculous. 

And then I had kids.  Two daughters that - oh, they take my breath away.  How overwhelming is the love, the protectiveness, the anger, the applause, the emotion, the everything.  The absolute everything of being mama. The irrational warmth of being mommy. 

My kids are 9 and 12.  And I am still "mommy."  To them both, when they are scared or need me at night, or want to crawl up for some evening snuggles because we just love each other?  I am "mama." 

I LOVE being mommy.  I LOVE being mama.  I hope that never stops.  I'm hearing "mom" a lot more now than I used to, especially from the older one... but the others aren't gone.  I hope they never go away. 

Because before I was a mom?  Well, I don't even know that person anymore.  She thought she had so many answers... answers that I don't have even now.  The difference is that now I know the questions are out there - and "pain" was not the only word redefined by giving birth.  The word "never"?  Ha Ha Ha!  The only time you can use that word when you are a parent and have it be true is when you acknowledge that you NEVER know what having kids will bring.  And while some what they bring is really tough, a lot of what they bring is really great even if it started out tough.  And some of what they bring is just happiness and greatness the entire way through. 

So on Mother's Day I will admit to the world that my favorite thing in the entire world to be called is "Mama".  Because that was the first things my babies knew me as, who I was to them when they needed me most. 

The me before I had kids?  Not so smart.  Not so wise.  Not so "Mama."

Happiness is...

Do you know what Monster High dolls are?  No?  Let me give you a quick primer: they're about the size of a Barbie, but they're teen-aged children of the "monsters" we all know from literature and movies.  Dracula's daughter is Draculaura, Cleo de Nile is the daughter of The Mummy, Gholia Yelps is the daughter of a Zombie, and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?  Well, Jackson Jekyll is the son of Dr. Jekyll and Holt Hyde is the son of Mr. Hyde. You get it.  The list goes on and on.  It's pretty clever actually.

DD2 has wanted the "Monster High Abbey Bominable Doll with Pet Wooly Mammoth" since October.  You can probably guess that Abbey Bominable is the daughter of the Yeti.  She is a foreign exchange student at Monster High - her native language is "yetish".  DD2 adores this character. She wore the Abbey Bominable costume for Halloween.  She has been searching for the "original Abbey" since she found out about her last fall. We have been unable to find it for less than about $75.00 - which, no.  I'm sorry.  Not going to happen.  Wanted to get it as a surprise for her at Christmas, but the price only went up. 

She got an amazon gift card from her uncle for Christmas - and she's been wanting Abbey.  She checks regularly on amazon.  She gets discouraged regularly too.

So, about two weeks ago we were looking on amazon, and I noticed that - while not the original - there was a character from the "Skull Shores" series.  (Oh, they have different "series" of each dolls: the original dolls, "Dead Tired" slumber party series, "Sweet 1600" party edition dolls, "Skull Shores" beach series, etc. This could be endless.)  Abbey the actual doll is the same, but no pet woolly mammoth, and the outfit is different.  HOWEVER... they sell additional outfits for the dolls (of course they do), so that they can have even MORE series options - but without having to buy new dolls each time.  There is a "School Clubs" series of outfits, of which Abbey is a part of the Snowboarding Club.  (Of course she is.)  SOOO, I pointed out that if she got the Skull Shores Abbey, and the Snowboarding outfit, she could still have a "winter" Abbey, just not the original.

She loved the idea.  So I helped her with the purchase (she still has some money left over in her amazon account now, bonus), and the shipping instructions said 2-4 weeks.  So I told her that she'd probably have them in time for Spring Break.  Not what she wanted to hear, but she's waited this long... what is another two weeks.

Or, as it would turn out, FOUR DAYS.  Abbey showed up in our mailbox in 4 days.  COUNTING the weekend.  Not special shipping or anything.  I think the "company" selling this toy through amazon must be a garage based business down the street from us or something.  Crazy.

BUT, what a wonderful surprise.

Then, since the doll arrived so quickly, she started checking the mail EVERY DAY for the package that was the winter outfit. 

So cute.  Watching her check the mail box every afternoon. Made all the cuter because this wasn't a present from someone... this was something she had purchased with her own money.  Which made it all the more special for her.

And then?  On Wednesday?  It happened. 

She and I arrived home, she ran to check the mail, and shouted, "It's here! It's here!  My package.  It's here!"  Then, with arms full of package and mail, she ran for the house.  I hope I never forget the image of her, the back of her anyways, running through the garage and repeating, "I've been waiting, and it's here!  Abbey will be so excited."  Just so cute.

She dumps the armful of mail on the table, and with a huge smile grabs the scissors and opens the big padded envelope that is her package.  Addressed to her.  Then, with a giant smile and look of wondrous anticipation, she pulled the doll outfit out of the envelope and did a little happy dance (which still looks like 'the potty dance' to me, so I get confused sometimes), and hugged it to her chest.

If I had ever wondered what pure joy looked like?  There it was, right in front of me.  And I will never let that image out of my head.

SO not that old!

Dear Classmates.com,

Sending me a message "See YOUR yearbook from High School!" was a nice thing to do.  Imagine my surprise when I opened the message and found out that the yearbook in question was from 1970.  As I had not yet started Kindergarten, I'm fairly sure my picture will NOT be in said yearbook.  Please adjust your records.

Very truly yours,
Dodi.

Two Women

I never imagined, when you met a few years ago over coffee, that your lives would intertwine is such a way.  My sister-in-law, "K", and my good friend, "M".  In the last two days you have both lost someone significant to you.  "K" lost her older sister yesterday, "M" lost her best friend today.
I'm thankful you are both in my life.  I'm thankful that you were interested enough in the person you had gotten to know over the internet that you wanted to meet for coffee.  I'm thankful that my family and my friends sometimes mesh, because it's so cool for me. What I'm not glad about is that something so sad has happened in both of your lives...and so very close together.

I am thinking of you both tonight.  Sending you both so much love.  Shedding tears for your sadness, and wanting you to know that a shoulder to cry on is simply a phone call away.  May God and time ease your pain, and may you know that there are so very many people that love you.

*****
Molly Mahoney: Are you dying?
Mr. Edward Magorium: Light bulbs die, my sweet. I will depart.
*****

Don't be afraid

I want my daughters to know that if you don't show the world who you really are, how will anyone recognize what is so perfectly perfect about you?



It's 2012!

It was a good year in 2011.  We survived a tsunami (not that we were in any real danger, but HEY... we were in a tsunami evacuation. How many Colorado girls get to say that??) Along with that, our first vacation in Hawaii. Which our kids LOVED. DD1 took to the ocean like a dolphin, DD2 discovered how much she hates sand in her pants. We all loved shaved ice, and Husband's family was the perfect addition to paradise. 

In 2011 DD1 started middle school, and has had a wonderful time. DD2 is in 3rd grade, and is growing up so fast it's amazing. Honestly, she's not a "little kid" anymore. Weird!

Sadly, my aunt died in 2011.  Although I'm sure heaven counted 2011 as a complete success because of it happening.  My uncle, my mom, their siblings, her parents, their aunts and uncles, cousins, friends... that sound of trumpets and rejoicing wasn't in your head. You could hear them from here. No one I know had more people waiting for them there, and at the same time left so many people here to miss them and think about what a positive impact one person had on the world. The world is a better place because she was here.

2011 was a year that I made a lot of decisions about my personal future. Ending some relationships, but keeping the important relationships in my life close to my heart. There isn't enough time in the day for hate, jealousy, and things that hold you back. People who don't want the best for you, and for whom you don't want the same in return? It's best to put those relationships aside.

2011 was a year of learning. I learned that tearing the kitchen apart just before Thanksgiving was a bad idea, although to be honest I think that was an outcome I probably could have predicted without actually doing the legwork. I learned that I'm never going to make the Christmas Card mailing cutoff date... so from now on its going to be Happy New Year cards only from here on out. I learned that I should have taken notes three years ago when oldest daughter was in 4th grade math, so now that youngest daughter is there it wouldn't cause me to rip the rest of my hair out. (Would that we'd had three children so that I'd have had a chance to get something RIGHT for a change.)

2011 was the year that Husband and I celebrated 13 amazing years of marriage together by taking the kids up to Breckenridge for the 4th of July weekend.  We enjoyed the time away so much we now think of it as a family tradition, and are already planning the trip to Breckenridge for our 14th anniversary.

2011 was a year of lots of travel for Husband, lots of driving for me. It was also the year that we decided we needed to be serious about either planning a move to the part of town where the kids schools/activities were, or move their schooling/activities this way. We'll let you know which decision we went with in 2012. (There are actually plans that go in both directions, we've got some thinking to do... but that we've started putting things in to place to help us make these decisions is a big step for us.) 

2011 was a year when we had some really special house guests, the time we spent with all of you was awesome. 

2011 was the year my oldest daughter FINALLY got to experience a Harry Potter move on the big screen. (If you haven't read the books, you don't get to see the movies!)  She managed to get through the last two books in time to see Part II of book 7 in the theater opening weekend, and I was so psyched for her! Her BFF got to join us, as she'd put the book work in too.

2011 was the year I returned to work.  Part time, but I made the leap.  I like the company, work with very creative people, love my boss, and I think 2012 will be a good year work-wise for me. I'm excited.


2012 has a lot to live up to... lets get this party started.

The Christmas Beaver

Some families have very normal traditions.  An angel on top of the tree, a special Christmas Eve meal, a story told around the fire during the holidays.

Our family, too, has a tradition - although not as conventional.

Ours, you see, involves a Beaver.

A scented Beaver.

THIS scented Beaver:

It's a little blurry here, but you get the idea.

Probably 7 or 8 years ago, my friend (JS) and I went to a holiday craft fair.  In the 16 years that I have known JS, we've missed this craft fair only twice.  Every couple of years we go crazy and make some less than stellar purchases, caught up in the excitement of getting ready for Christmas.  This particular year, 7 or 8 years ago, was one such year.

We happened upon these darling women who had some very unique crafts going on - they had taken stuffed animals and dipped them in scented wax.  So, they looked sort of like resin animals, but smelled really good.  I, wanting something "Christmassy", concentrated on the animals with Santa hats and smelling of cinnamon, cloves, evergreen - you know... Christmas smells.  There was this really cute little Beaver, about 4 inches tall, and darling.  This was my purchase.

A scented Beaver.

The ramifications of which would not hit me until about a week later.  When I mentioned to someone that they should smell my Beaver.  At which point I knew it would become a Christmas favorite.

Which it is.  Particularly of my young daughters - who have no idea on earth why this is as funny as it is.  They love to bring out the Christmas Beaver, giving it a place of honor each year on the piano.  Which is always funny, but now makes us howl with laughter.  (And here is where our newest Christmas Story begins...)

Once upon a time JS and I took our daughters with us to a Holiday Craft Fair that we try to hit every year.  The year was 2009, and my youngest daughter was not quite 7 at the time.  We were having a wonderful time with our kids, running from craft booth to craft booth, dodging all the 4 million or so people that were there that night.  (I had never seen it so crowded)  When we stop at a booth with candles.  So many candles - and the girls want to stop and sniff each one.  Now, you know how sometimes - when you're in a really crowded place - all of the sudden a silence will hit?  Like it gets REALLY quiet for just a few seconds?  Well, in that unexpected lull was the precise moment in time when my youngest daughter decided to tell me, in her very loudest voice, "Hey Mom!  This candle smells JUST LIKE YOUR BEAVER!"  I kid you not when I tell you that all 4 million or so people swiveled around to try to see the woman with the holiday scented beaver.  My friend, JS?  She and her daughter ran from the booth, screaming with laughter.  Once I picked my jaw up off the floor I smiled, looked down at my daughter and said, "Well yes, it certainly does" and, trying to salvage what dignity I had left, put the top back on the candle she was smelling, grabbed her hand and headed off to hunt down JS, who was halfway down the damn aisle by then. 

Perhaps the most embarrassing moment of my entire life. 

Solidifying that darn Beaver's presence at every Christmas for the rest of my life I suspect - as my husband now encourages the placing of the sacred Christmas Beaver in it's place of honor each year. 

He'll probably have it buried with me.

Happy Solstice: Half of the Real Reason for the Season

OK, OK - I'm not here to knock Jesus Christ. I'm a appreciative fan - and am not trying to start a religious war by saying his birth shouldn't be celebrated.  It should... but lets face it, he probably wasn't born at this time of year.  Springtime is most likely when it really happened since shepherds were in the fields day and night only during lambing season - and I don't know the bible very well, but I'm pretty sure that at least Paul mentioned the shepherds were in their fields at night. I have studied neither theology or ancient cultures in any depth, but from my reading I have learned that celebrating Christ's birth in December with Merrymaking and Parties?  Most likely THAT is because of the Winter Solstice. Or, rather, what the Winter Solstice signifies.

Celebrating the day after the shortest day of the year - the passing of the Solstice... welcoming back the sun.  The days get longer, which in our society of electric lighting and central heat isn't such a big deal.  But if you're a peasant or a farmer that can only get stuff done by the light of day, and the nights bring cold and the need to stoke a fire all night long to stay warm?  It's a pretty big deal.  Almost ALL pagan cultures celebrated some form of this passing.  Call it Yule, Hogmanay, Mōdraniht, Sol Invictus, or a hundred other names... it is how the "New Year", the rebirth of the sun was celebrated.  And it was important.  So important there was going to be a lot less converts to Christianity if they were told that this particular celebration wasn't important.  Christianity needed to incorporate it with its own twist in order to get converts.

These weren't societies of instant gratification.  People were willing to make sacrifices of the very currency that sometimes kept them alive, and things didn't get better overnight. It would be months of cold and starvation (things they had spent a lot of time preparing for) before things actually improved enough to make a big difference.  However, every day that they had a few minutes more of sunshine was a reason to be thankful to their gods. 

It isn't groundbreaking to say that the early Church decided that they needed a big holiday to help the pagans over to their side.  The early Church didn't celebrate Christmas the way we do - to them it was simply a "Feast Day."  A day to go to Church (get out of the house in the better of your two outfits), celebrate the Mass, and then have a special meal at home in honor of the feast.  Since celebrating the return of the sun was a pretty big deal, the Church needed a pretty big occasion to nail on to this Feast Day.  The birth of Jesus Christ?  Well, other than the death of Jesus Christ - which is the biggest Feast Day in the Church, the birthday was one they weren't already celebrating and since it had been two or three hundred years since the occasion had actually happened? Who knew the real date?  Following the Winter Solstice was a pretty good day to pin to that Feast. In fact, in the early Church, the feast day of Christmas kicked off the 12 days to the real celebration... the Epiphany.  When the Biblical Magi turned up to celebrate the word of God - the announcement that the savior had been born.  Twelfth Night was, for a long time, the big event. Thus distancing the true reason for Christian thankfulness (the Word of God) from the Feast day of the Birth... yet tying in the pagan celebration day quite nicely. 

So. long story short, they came together.  One half pagan, one half Christian.  And the Feast Day / day of Merriment made everybody happy.  Jesus would have been on board with that, he was all about the happiness of mankind.  And really, when you get to the age he was when he died?  Who really cares about their birthday anyway?  You're kind of over it by then.  Human nature, getting older, looming death - it all plays in to that feeling of "You're only as old as you feel" trumping "Can I have a BIG party this year???"  Actual birthdays cease to really matter.

So, as I sit here watching the snow pile up outside and thank God I am in a house with electricity and heat (and fairly soon, a usable kitchen), I don't want to offend Christianity or dishonor anyone who celebrates the Birth of Christ this week. (My family celebrates Christmas.)  Christianity had to do what it had to do to get converts - they had an agenda... and that it probably really ISN'T his birthday this week isn't all that important. He WAS born at some point during the year, and my kids have had birthday parties a month after their actual big day. I like to think of Christmas as a gift the early Church gave to the Pagans.  They didn't take away their holiday, just gave them a new reason to celebrate... Oh, and eternal life.  Bonus.

9 going on 15

Oh my holy hell - was it this bad when the older one turned 9 and I've blanked it all out?  Honestly, this child, my Darling Daughter #2, the light of my life?  So NOT the light right now. 

If at all possible, more erratic moods than her (almost) 12 year old sister.  And I'm hoping with all hope that this isn't hormones - because if she gets her curves and her cycle before her older sister?  All hell will break loose around here.

She's got a friend over today - her BEST friend.  Who, for 70% of the time, has only been playing with DD1.  Why?  Because DD2 has been in her room "thinking about her behavior" several times already today.

She was SUCH a good baby.

But right now?  I wish her door locked from the outside.

Bah Humbug, sorta...

I'm not completely a Grinch, but sort of more this year than other years.  Normally I'd be all up for decorations, only this year - with the remodeling in mid swing - it feels like just one more thing we'd have to clean up.  Almost like, "Can we just skip Christmas this year? I'd be willing to make it up next year with double Christmas."  I'm not wanting to bake (which isn't so new), I'm not wanting to decorate, I'm not wanting presents, I'm not wanting to shop and spend money. 

Because when you're changing things in the house on the scale that we are, even though not a ton of money is going in to it, it all feels so... I don't know... costly?  Like you really notice how much you spend on things, and when you are trying to find a place to put all of those toys they already have, and you clean out your cabinets and find appliances you didn't even remember were there... it seems like we don't need more stuff.

And, like it or not, sometimes it feels like Christmas is really all about the "stuff".  The decorations, the preparation, the food and gifts and wrappings.  I've not been playing holiday carols at home, except for the tree and the gingerbread houses the house is undecorated (and covered in drywall dust no matter what we do).  I'd consider it a successful Christmas if I got my cabinet bases all stained before the big day (upper AND lower) - and we have company coming to stay with us right after Christmas.  Our dining room is full of what normally resides in cabinetry, and I hope to God our upstairs hall bathroom is usable by then.  If not?  We're going to be in a world of hurt regarding getting those guests showered.

I haven't plotted our Christmas card strategy yet, which means I haven't even snapped a picture of the kids for the card.

So, Bah Humbug, sorta...

I mean, today is the first day that really felt like the holiday was on it's way and might be worth celebrating.  The annual Gingerbread House Decorating Party thrown by our dear friends was this afternoon, and the neighborhood ornament exchange thrown by T.Z. was this evening.  So much fun - and so festive.  Maybe it'll be enough to kick my behind in to high gear and get some holiday prep work done...

I'll pull it together for the kids, but honestly?  I'd like to not accumulate more "stuff" this year.

My Husband? Is a BAD Ass!

Having some work done around the house.  Having a wall taken out in the process. 

I just hit the drywall with a hammer.  Like hit it HARD with a hammer.  And had to hit it hard with a hammer like four times to put a hole in it.

I've seen my husband put his fist through drywall.  In one try.

That is pretty bad ass when you think about it.  (Granted, he was drunk and broke his hand... which he totally deserved don't get me wrong - but still... in a weird way?  Impressive.)

That is all.

She is of my husband's people...

Conversation about 10 minutes ago, as the Husband and the daughters are getting ready to leave for gymnastics:

Husband: Can we bring you back any lunch?
Me: No, I'm good.
Husband: Not even a green chili cheese burger?
Me: No, thanks.  I'm OK.
DD2: How about a hug?
Me: A hug would be great!!

And then?  DD2 walked over to HUSBAND and gave him a gigantic hug. 
We all burst out laughing... sarcastic little bugger.

I am no "health nut", but...

Y'all know me.  I've basically got an inner GPS to the nearest fast food joints in almost every area of the city. I love a good McDonalds French Fry, a Wendy's Double Stack, and practically anything from Sonic... but, even I have to admit I sat up and took note of the KFC commercial that announced its newest offering, the "Cheesy Bacon Bowl." Because really? These KFC "Famous Bowls" already seem so absurdly unhealthy (mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, popcorn chicken, shredded cheese) that adding bacon to the mix is like throwing fuel on the fire. 

I can only imagine this is the idea that came out of some Conference of American Cardiologists.
Keynote: (loudly. Think Oprah melded with Evangelical Preacher) "Patients are on the decline, how do we bring them back?  Let's throw it around the room - Kurt, what do you have?"
Kurt: "More fat in school lunch?"
Keynote:  "a touch obvious. Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth: "Let's bring back Trans-Fats! We could infuse them with Vitamin D and Calcium!"
Keynote: "I like it!  A little complicated, but good.  We'll get R&D working on that. In the short term, though, how do we pump up the volume and get our patient count up? Baxter, give me something here."
Baxter: "How about adding Bacon to everything? Bacon is popular. Add it to the fried food people already eat? Maybe you could just batter and bread the bacon and deep fry it?"
Keynote: "Now we're talking! But let's start slower than that.  Let's just add it on to some already obviously over saturated and unhealthy.  Call marketing - get them on this!"

And voila! The new Cheesy Bacon Bowl from KFC. Mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, popcorn chicken, shredded cheese and bacon bits.

Roughly 740 calories for $3.99?  BARGAIN.  Really?  If you're going to consume that many calories?  Head to Cheesecake Factory.  At least you know it will be completely delicious.

Note: I will tell you that if anyone does come out with a product like "popcorn bacon"?  I'm gonna try it.  Just sayin - that would be something I'd have to do.

the kitchen

Possibly the ugliest room in our home: the kitchen.  Builder's 1987 oak cabinets, ivory Formica counters, original vinyl floor - complete with rips and burns.  Classy.  Since kitchens help sell houses, we needed a re-do (10 years ago we needed a redo!), and we had a budget.

These are the counter tops.  Bought them from Home Depot, who is having a 10% off sale right now on Wilsonart Laminate counters... so with the extra money we got a fancier edge.  (Full Wrap Ogee, if that means anything to you... to me it just "looked nicer")

This is the tile for the floor and the back splash.  It's actually a lighter, sandy color porcelain tile (not  "pink" like the picture), but has slate profile. My contractor and I both walked right to it - and he said, "It's is never this easy."  Basic 16x16 tiles on the floor, 8x12 staggered tiles as a back splash  (NOTE: THIS IS NO LONGER THE TILE. BECAUSE IT IS PINK AND UGLY.)

 
I know I was going to paint the cabinets... but with our not changing the appliances (which are white) I actually wanted to go darker.  I'm going to try gel staining over the oak to get a darker, richer color.  Not as dark as below, but this is an example of gel stain over oak. 

Moen Faucet in stainless steel, spot free. 

No decision on the hardware yet, except that it will be in the same metal as the faucet.  I've picked a white, cast iron Kohler sink - very similar to what we have right now.... but new and pretty.

Wish us luck!  The kitchen should be done before Thanksgiving... nothing like pushing a date like that!

A school dance...

On Thursday, directly after school for one hour in the school gym it happened.  DD1's very first school dance.  She's been looking forward to school dances for a while now. 
She?  Had a ball.  She hung out with her friends, they all danced together, they watched the boys all be silly, they giggled, had snacks, were seen, outfits were complimented: pure joy.

She can't wait for her next school dance.
She can't wait for that much fun with her friends after school.
She CAN wait for a boy to ask her, because her response afterwards was, "Mom, you were right. Dances really are more fun when you just go with your friends."  (Not that she has anything to compare this to... but I'm so glad she has such good friends.

It's all good.

...and sometimes I get it right...

OK, DD2 was feeling a little "left out".  We've been making a fuss over DD1 starting middle school: she got her phone, a pair of really awesome cool jeans, a darling backpack and matching lunchbox, extra shopping... it's been a little bit of a big deal.  Little Sister sobbed when Big Sister got a phone.  She cried herself to sleep that night.

So, at the end of the first week of school I have an inspired thought: DD2 needs a new lunch box.  How about I swing by Vera Bradley and get her the one she was admiring when we where there picking up sister's backpack and lunchbox.  I'm loving the one her sister got, and think this would be a wise purchase... and it will make DD2 SO HAPPY!

Yes.  Or NOT HAPPY AT ALL as the case may be.  See, when told she had a present waiting for her at home, she immediately got excited.  Which I then fed with remarks about how pleased she will be, and how I know she's been needing a little something to make her feel special about going back to school too.  Apparently she got it in to her head that she'd be receiving a set of these:

...instead of this:

So, when presented with this lunch box, that is not an inexpensive purchase considering she is 8 years old, she threw a mother of a tantrum.  As she threw it on the ground screaming, "I wanted SQUINKIES!", my jaw absolutely dropped.  I picked it up, put it back in the bag and said, "Fine.  This can be returned.  If you don't want it that is fine.  You won't have it."  Turned my back on her and dropped the subject.  Refused to engage her.  Sent her to her room when her crying started to get on my nerves.

A few days later I still hadn't gotten over the the mall to return the unwanted lunch box.  She noticed the bag.  "Mom, when we pack my lunch tomorrow can we use my new lunch box."  Me, "It isn't yours, I just haven't returned it yet.  No." 

 Come Friday morning she looked over at the bag (which I was planning on taking back that day after drop off), and said, "You know, I really do want that lunch box.  I do need one."  I said, "So you don't think I should return it?"  She smiled (thinking she's winning at this point), "No.  We should keep it."  I smiled back at her and said, "Fine.  Instead of my returning it to get my money back, you can buy it from me."

Shock.  Betrayal.  Horror.  Tears.  "No! I want the lunch box! I don't want to buy it! You already bought it!"  Me: "Yes, and after your behavior regarding this gift I purchased for you, I've decided that you aren't grown up enough for a very nice lunch box and it should be returned.  However, if you'd like to pay for it, I'll sell it to you."  She was SO mad at me when I dropped her off at school with her paper bag lunch.

Cut to that evening, "Mom?"  "Yes, DD2?"  "I want to buy it.  The lunch box.  How much is it?"  At which point I told her to get the receipt from the bag and read it to me.  Then she went to her piggy bank and brought me the money.

And now it's hers.  Ironically, I went in to it with the actual plan of spoiling her a little - and it backfired in to a pretty good life lesson.  How often does that happen?

I found this great writer...

I love quotes.  I especially love quotes that express how I feel at a certain place in my life.  This is a place in time that I needed words to help me endure... sometimes you just need someone else to say it, to find the words they used, to know that the human condition isn't unique to you.  That this pain has been lived through before you, dealt with by others, and people will survive it in the future. 


I think I would have liked to have met this woman, and I think I'm going to have to read through her writings.
****


There's an awful lot of blood around that water is thicker than. ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic's Notebook, 1966


The real is very real to him, the unreal even more so. ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic's Notebook, 1960


Neurotics always feel as though they were going way up or way down, which is odd in people going sideways. ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic's Notebook, 1966

Likely as not, the child you can do the least with will do the most to make you proud. ~Mignon McLaughlin

Middle School

I will admit, I was worried. I thought about her the entire day yesterday. Husband drove her to school (the first time I had EVER relinquished that duty, First Day is a big deal) on the grounds that the last image in her head before she entered the new school should NOT be of her mother sobbing. I had to agree, perhaps not the confidence boost she needed.

So he did the deed. Drove her to school, dropped her off, and DROVE AWAY. Like it was an ordinary day.

It was a long day. I spent the day with a friend to help pass the time. Mani/pedi/lunch/shopping... time for pickup!!!! I was waiting with baited breath (and some new clothes I couldn't help buying for her) as she bounced over to the car, announcing "This was the best first day of middle school EVER!" She liked her classes, she didn't have a problem finding anything - except her bff at lunch time. That didn't go so well... but she did end up finding some kids from her elementary school to eat lunch with.

After we picked up little sister from the elementary school we decided to go sign DD1 up for classes at her new dance academy. While we were there she and another girl pointed at each other, smiled, and said, "Hey!" Seems it was the girl that sat next to her in Science, and they immediately started chatting. Her mother was very nice, and DD1 and new friend will be in tap class together. Squeal from both girls, huge smile and sigh of relief from both mothers.

Today she managed to find bff for lunch together, and liked her teachers even more today than yesterday. There is a cute boy sitting behind her in Spanish, and she found out she gets to make something from sheet metal in "Technology"... so she's sooooo excited.

Turns out the most difficult thing about middle school so far?
Finding time to use the restroom.
SO not the conversation I thought we'd be having, but Thank the Lord this is the most difficult thing so far this week!!!

She's happy.
I'm happy that she's happy.
It's all I want.

She's got me thinking...

DD1 heads to "middle school" this August. She goes back and forth on being excited. She's looking forward to meeting new people, is nervous about how hard it might be to stay organized and get good grades, and has already told me that I may never have to pack her a lunch again as they have so much variety to choose from.

But, when you ask her what she's looking forward to most??
"School dances."

Because while she knows that she isn't old enough to have a "boyfriend" yet (house rules, age 15), she knows that dancing with a boy wouldn't be off limits - and that is about as close to one as she will get for another few years.

If I have anything to say about it.
And exactly WHO do I think I'm kidding about that?

Another goodbye...

Last week my Aunt Dorothy left this life.
Tonight was her rosary.
Tomorrow we formally say goodbye.

She was my mother's youngest sister, and one of three people I was named after.

My Aunt Dorothy was a "fixer". Whereas some people meddle where they don't belong, my Aunt Dorothy was one to hop in a help fix a problem... knowing that she always belonged. She just did.

When Husband and I wanted to get married outside of the Catholic Church my parents did not take the news well. (One of the many problems being that Husband hadn't been granted his annulment yet, and the Canon Lawyer wasn't trying to hurry the process along any.) Aunt Dorothy, bless her heart, was there with a solution so my parents and I didn't kill each other. She called me up and arranged for Husband and I to meet her friend, Deacon Mike, who counseled us and helped us through the situation. While it didn't completely solve the problem for my parents, it did help us get through the wedding, and for that I will always be grateful.

I had a session with my therapist the day my Aunt passed away. (My standing appointment) She asked me if my Aunt and I were close, and I said "yes, yes we were," and then I paused. "Of course, if I were to be completely honest with you, anyone that knew her would answer that question the same way. Everyone she ever met, I think, thought they were close with her. That was one of the things that was so amazing about her."

My Aunt was one of the most loving women in the world, and one of the most loved in return. I wish I was more like her, she was a giver. She loved, she cared, she counseled, she befriended, she prayed... and she made a difference.

Would that everyone who has ever lived make such a difference as my Aunt Dorothy. The world would be a much better place.

I will miss you, but I know you are in a better place - with your brothers and sisters, your husband, your parents, and so many others who your life has touched... I'm guessing it was one of the biggest Welcome Home parties heaven has ever seen. I imagine the hugging alone took hours. Someday I will see you again - healthy, happy, and glowing with the love that is you.

I love you.
I will miss knowing you are here.
I will pray for your family, because to lose you is huge.
You were truly one of a kind - in the best way possible. I am very lucky to have your name, I hope someday I can do it justice.

Goodbye. For now.

Technology 1, Dodi 0

I think God invented technology to remind me that I am WAY older than I actually feel. See, in my head I'm in my early 30's... God seems to resent this illusion and wants to give me a reality check.

For Christmas this year I received an Apple iPod iTouch. Love it. Love it beyond words. I listen to my music, my books on tape, read my kindle, keep my guided meditation on it, watch movies, facebook, twitter... LOVE it.

About 2 weeks ago I had to upgrade to a Smart Phone. Thought a LOT about it, was very careful about my research, and decided that I had to go Android for work purposes. Android works better with the google apps stuff the company I work for uses, and I'm on skype all day long. Since I didn't need the entertainment apps I wasn't worried about that - for that I still had my Apple. (Plus, I need it to be a hotspot for when I'm away from wifi availability... and having an iPhone seemed redundant if I already had an iTouch.)

Easy enough, right. Now I have both platforms to work on - truly I own the BEST of both worlds.

Right.

Except instead of mastering two different platforms? My over 40 brain now can do nothing but stare at the device in my hand for a full minute before I can do ANYTHING with the dumb thing. I have to remember where I am, what I am doing, how to do it on this particular machine, and how come the screen looks different? Where is the app I am looking for - what?? Crap. I know that button is here somewhere! How come I can't wrap my brain around all of this? I'm (fairly) intelligent. I "get" how both of these things work in theory. I did research on this. WHY can't my brain just switch in to whatever gear I am needing at that moment? My brain used to perform like a well oiled machine (this may be an exaggeration... but it's my blog and I'm allowed a little bit of fantasy regarding my own smarts.) What the hell happened?

Really... what the hell just happened?

Learn something new every day

In this season of graduations there are many speeches being given. "The world is your oyster," "you have your whole life in front of you," "never stop learning." These are some of the many famous lines and clichés that will be uttered in the many thousands of speeches given all over this great land of ours.

"Never stop learning" is probably one of the easiest of these lessons to take to heart. After all, "you learn something new every day" is one of the most popular colloquialisms in the world. Why just today, while out running errands I learned that porkchop sideburns on a bald man don't particularly appeal to me.

So, maybe not what MY valedictorian had in mind...but it's something.

Short Term Memory Kerfluffle

So I don't believe I've every discussed this on the blog, I'm on a medication for anxiety. It works well... between the medication, my learning how to meditate, and seeing a behavioral therapist I'm feeling a lot better about everything. Miles from where I was a year ago - waiting to find out if I had MS and finding out it's just a crippling case of anxiety and my panic attacks are "unusual" to say the least. (And yes, I'm blessed that it's only anxiety... that much I am thankful for - that and the wisdom of the neurologist that spent time making the diagnosis.)

Heck, I even felt like I could take on a job... and I'm liking it.

The medication does have some drawbacks, however. In that it messes with my short term memory. (Which wasn't that perfect to begin with, truth be told.)

For example, I had to call my husband last week because... well, "because" is inferred in the conversation that follows:

D: "Hi, it's me. You're picking up DD1 from Girl Scouts today so I can do what?"
Husband (who is WAY too used to this kind of phone call): "I'm picking up DD1 from DANCE today so you can go pick up the dog's medication."
D: "Oh. Hmmmm. Yep, thats it."

Yea. Good thing I happen to remember all the great movie lines from when I was in my 20's, but parts of my present life are a complete mystery to me.

(I do wonder if I'll suddenly remember about the kids schedule and dog's medication in 10 years, when it isn't short term memory anymore - but won't be at all useful? Wouldn't that be handy? Is that how memory works... ?)

So happy...

Really, just so happy on this vacation. Being in paradise does take away all the stress! What I felt on this trip was intense love for the family that Husband and I have created, gratitude at being led to the place I am in my life right now, and happiness. I have a really blessed life - and I've been stopping to appreciate that more since our vacation.

(...and I want to be that tan again! Being tan, strategic placement of a child, and sticking my neck out like an iguana help make me look SO much better than I do in real life!! LOL!)

Life advice for the future

My daughter doesn't understand why we won't let her dance on the dining room table.

I told her that when the Lord gives you a daughter, one of the agreements is you do everything you can to keep them from dancing on ANY tables - at ANY time in their (hopefully long and wholesome) lives.

Sure, it makes no sense to her now - but perhaps when she's 20 she'll remember that really confusing conversation with mom one morning when she was 8. Mom was looking for the coffee filters and saying something about never dancing on tables.

Never Ever.

Three years ago

Right now DD2 is in second grade, and working on her Amazon project. She has picked the Amazon River Dolphin (for very important reasons, like the fact that its pink). Her report packet is completed, her pictures are taped in place, and her diorama is done. She did 95% of the work herself, so it's safe to say it's not going to be the "prettiest" project out there, but it will be her own work. She will proudly turn it in tomorrow.

Back up three years. DD1 was in second grade when my mother died. Also working on her Amazon project. She had chosen the three toed sloth, and had worked a little on her report... but that year they HAD to have a diorama - because it was a science fair year. Their completed projects were due Friday, May 2nd that year. I remember it clearly - because my mother's funeral was Wednesday April 30th, and with all the visiting my mom in the hospital and then the ICU, not sleeping, losing our mom on April 27th, funeral arrangements, family flying in, and general chaos of that month I completely forgot about the diorama portion of the project until late in the day of mom's funeral. At which point I knew that my daughter would not be doing the work - I would. I looked over at my sister-in-law, an elementary school teacher, and said, "Oh Crap... what am I going to do?" She looked me in the eye and said, "Get a shoe box and some brown paint... and tomorrow let DD1 paint the inside of the box. Then, have her find a picture of a sloth on the internet. After she goes to bed, cut the sloth out, glue it to the back wall of the shoe box and hot glue all kinds of leaves and stuff from Michael's in front of it. Make sure its messy and they'll never suspect a thing."

May 1st 2008 was a day that I broke a big rule I had set for myself as a parent. I wasn't going to be the mom who's kid turned in the most beautiful projects - even if it killed me with it's awkwardness - because I was going to make my kids do their own work.

And then I got caught up in real life, and the rug got yanked out from beneath my feet, and I - without a second thought - did 95% of that diorama and lied to the teacher about it. And told my daughter to lie to the teacher about it as well. "Just tell her I had to help you a little with the hot glue because you're not allowed to use it by yourself." (as I am explaining the diorama to her that morning and pointing out where the sloth was in the back so she'd know.)

I'm not going to lie, when my dad fell last week and they took him to the very same hospital, and they put him in the ICU, and I knew the 2nd grade Amazon project was due this Friday it was the worst kind of deja-vu ever. But my dad is getting better, and is expected to complete re-hab on May 11th. He's planning on moving to an apartment in a retirement community, and I don't have to lie to the teacher about who really did the diorama.

Tonight is so much better than three years ago it's unbelievable... Thank you, God. And tell my mom hello for me. I still miss and think about her every day.

This can't be how it works...

In nine days it will be the 3rd anniversary of my mom's passing.

Tonight my dad is in the same hospital, the same intensive care unit (not the same room, thank God), hooked up to those same machines that we watched so carefully when mom was sick. It's too familiar, it's too scary... and this can't be how it goes.

It has to end differently this time.