Work

I'm idle. I was so close. Close to being used, being good, being able. It was two days of talking and having listeners. It's always amazing how fast your skills come back...muscle memory. To explain to you late comers, I was hired to consult on new restaurant...hired for my skill, though not used that often anymore. Since becoming mother I've had a few consulting gigs...its great to get in, get out and while I'm in totally rock it. Oh well, wasn't meant to be. This one wasn't meant to be because they weren't able to pay be what I'm worth and when I work I'm all in...I eat, sleep, and bleed a project. So putting my kids on the back burner during the holidays has a price.

I love opening restaurants. Everyone in the business should do it at least once...to see it go from paper, to the moment the first guest walks in, to the moment the review comes out...awesome. I helped open a place in NYC called Fleur de Sel. It was great...crazy, painful hard work but oh so good. I first saw the space totally raw, empty and void of food, life and while I listened to the chef tell me his thoughts and concept for the place I was thinking, "really? Is this going to work?". I spent the next month moving tables and chairs, hiring staff, training staff, tasting food and wine, scrubbing toilets, and going home in crying pain. We opened and I thought it was like the island of misfit toys having people for dinner...totally flawed and unprepared. But then the next night came and the next came and the next; it got better and better...never easier, but felt more natural to have people in this space that was once where you sat and looked at empty walls. Now, I was one of the very few people in New York who knew what the food critic for the NY Times, William Grimes, looked like. So when he walked in one night I was freaked out and crazy excited...we'd only been open one month, holy crap, could we pull this off? I quietly told the chef and proceeded to totally rock at what I do. Now you could call it cheating, but it's not my fault I knew who he was...I'd worked for a very prominent chef, Alain Ducasse, and one day William Grimes came to lunch and someone was kind enough to pass along this very valuable piece of information to me! I breathed a sigh of relief when he left that night, but instantly felt the anxiety of wondering what he thought...was all our and my hard work going to be praised or rejected. My fears were eased when the fact checker from the Times called and said that since the review was "good" she'd send over copy of it the night before...well it was not "good", it was a fucking love letter! Plus the next day when I ran to the news stand to see for myself I was shocked and my ego was ecstatic to open the paper and find a huge picture of ME next to the review! It was great...my first opening had been a success.

Everybody needs a few "claims to fame" and in my industry it doesn't get much better than that...it wouldn't have meant nearly as much coming from another critic, but from William Fucking Grimes? Awesome! My other two moments of feeling like I was actually good at my job are the time Thomas Matthews from Wine Spectator was on his tour of American restaurants and not only gave the place I worked at the "Best Restaurant in the U.S." honor, but told me I was the best "server" he'd ever had in the U.S. (not in the dirty way RE)...the other moment was being hand picked and hired by Alain Ducasse to become the first ever female captain in the history of his restaurants. To shake his hand everyday when you came to work was pretty cool.

Well, now that I've stroked my own ego for the night I can feel better about sitting here feeling fat, sad, idle, unloved, unused and completely worthless. I guess I didn't realize how much I wanted to work again...crap.

Snot Puller

One of the many glamorous things I do as a mother is suck the snot out of my kids noses. The 8 year old will not let me any where near his nose...too many years of me pulling snot and picking it so he could breathe has made it now impossible to convince him it's for his own good! But I still has nose control over the 3 year old and with his cold right now in full force the small turkey baster looking "snot puller" is the perfect solution! We used it a bunch when the boys were babies...I can remember watching hubby use it with such skill...funny that he was good with the baster and doing the "burrito fold" with the blankets, gee maybe he should be a cook!
Anyway for anyone having a baby and hmmm maybe even a cook, I recommend they add the little "snot puller" onto any registry or go ahead and pick a few up...you'll need it!
As long as I'm handing out parenting advice I will add to the list of things you'll need...1) crib sheets; you need at least 5 and buy more than one crib mattress pad. Believe me when your kid pees or spits up at night you want to just grab clean ones and not mess with towels or regular bed sheets! 2) Bottles and formula...even if you're planning for sure that you (or wife) will breast feed. Nursing is sometimes very difficult and for some women is frustrating, and extremely time consuming and can contribute to PPD, due to lack of sleep and not feeling "good enough" to do something you feel should be "natural". Have a "bottle plan" in place. Know what kind of formula you would use and pick out a good bottle, have them washed and ready to go. At 4 months my milk came to complete halt! It was the middle of the night and I drove to grocery, alone, crying, trying to (for the first time) figure out what kind of formula to get and ended up picking out the worst bottle ever! To me it's no different than your "birth plan" being natural and then things happen and you end up taking some drugs or having a c-section...things change and more so with your first baby you have to be ready to roll with the punches and be ready for anything. Last piece of advice is...ASK FOR HELP! Our first baby was colic and cried everyday from 4pm to 11pm for 3 months...yeah, good times! With hubby working nights this offered me 6 nights of NO relief or help...just crying, from son and me! I look back and think why the hell didn't I ask for more help?!! At the time you think, I can take it or I don't want to trouble anyone...but now I realize I needed the help and I should have troubled some people! I hope that if a friend of mine now had a baby and needed help or needed a break from the crying or just needed a night out, that hubby and I make awesome babysitters...and since we can't have more kids it gives us that "baby fix" we sometimes need!

The Little Red Book

I rule. So besides being hott for my age, giving it up everyday and being basically a super-full-service wife, I gave my husband the sweetest gift. NO, not the small-mute-Asian-girl, or the life-time subscription to the Playboy Channel...OK, here's the whole story...So my dear sweet husband HATES it when I (or anyone) buy him clothes. He kindly, after years, told me he would prefer to buy his own things...no problem. However, his interests are cooking and music and since picking out these things myself would mean him standing in line at the return aisle, that would leave gift cards...no way, dumb as hell (not for everyone, just the spouses). So, after years of stupid gifts that he gently put in the back of the closet or out and out returned, I came up with an idea...give him NOTHING! Genius! No, not really. So here's what I did. Right after Christmas when everything goes on sale I went to book store and bought a small, leather bound, blank book. It was dark, rich looking red leather and had the word "LOVE" on it...perfect. So a few days later, on January 1st I wrote on the first page...I wrote why I loved him, not in general, but specifically on that day. Then the next day I did the same thing...and the next day and the next...until it was the next years Christmas and the book was filled with 365 reasons, one for each day. Then I wrapped it and gave it to him. I have to say the look on his face and the tears in his eyes said it all. It had been a year of change and struggle in our relationship. I was pregnant at the start of the year, gave birth in March, then spent the summer in deep-sad-suicidal-crying-on-the-floor-post-pardum depression, which my husband single handedly got me through with his love and patience and the deep understanding only he could have for me. So as we looked back and read the pages of this little bound book we were reminded of the sweet rubbing my big belly times and the scared moments of walking into the NICU for now our second time with our second sick child...to moments of pure love and clarifying fear. It was all good. A lifetime in a year and all on paper to remember each day. After I gave it to him I would catch him looking at it, sometimes all at once and sometimes by day, matching the day for the year before, remembering when. We still look at it...it stays with us always. If it were music it would be the soundtrack of that year...sometimes sounding dated but you can still remember the feeling of standing in those shoes, feeling those feelings and saying those words. I love it ...that pause was me patting myself on the back. Just kidding...kind of. It will go down (he says) as his favorite gift I've ever given him.
Mine would have to be from our first Christmas together, 10 years ago...we were living in Manhattan and had no money, but he gave me this "Mason-Pearson" hair brush...(it's this fancy-schmansy brand of hair brushes made in England that he bought at this cute shop on the Upper East Side) and a Walt Whitman book...very romantic and each morning I look at the hair brush (for those who know me well, know I rarely use it or any brush for that matter)...but I see it and remember the love, and the patience and sweet way only he could love me...and I remember that each day I love him for new, sometimes the same, and different reasons.
So yes, I rule, bully for me... I finally, if just for one year, came up with good idea! Feel free to use it! It was sometimes a labor of love to remember each day to hide the book, write in the book, re-hide the book, keep hiding it and remember even on the days he'd piss me off or I was crying on the floor, to write in it. But now it goes in the pile of things we would grab in a fire. It takes such small effort to make someone happy...to show them you love them and after years of thinking and shopping and returning gifts, that's all it took...one little book and 365 days of remembering the little things.

Multi Tasker Bad Ass

Multi tasking is something I hear people say all the time...mostly women. Brag much?
Men never seem to say the things they did today, or how big their list of "to-dos" is or how much "multi-tasking" they can do...why is that? Is it the passive-aggressive competitive nature of women? Justify much? When was the last time a man came home huffing and puffing listing off the details of his day...while women will list each thing they did with a tone like she's listing off the steps in a brain surgery. Well whatever it is, the term "multi-tasking" is way over used. To me it's like walking and talking...duh, I can do that too! Texting while driving doesn't count. Talking on the phone while zipping kids coat doesn't count. My husbands idea of multi tasking is overseeing a restaurant with 75 employees, cooking dinner for 500, while organizing a private dinner for 50, and a banquet for 200 and planning tomorrow's lunch for 350 and the dinner for 500 and the next day and the next day, while keeping his boss happy, his boss's boss happy, the owner happy, his employees happy, all the while getting texts and emails and calls from crazy wife reminding him of the home schedule; the cub scouts, the piano class, the school conferences, the fact that I need him to hurry home because I may start beating the children soon and so on. My claim to fame of multi tasking is the time I talked on the phone while inserting tampon while breast feeding! One more difference between the "worker" and the "stay at home"!

The History of The Skid Mark

Boys are gross...you know you are. Little boys start to smell around age 6. Sweet baby smell is gone and is replaced by ass-crack-smell. You wash them, you shower them, you sit them down and embarrass them by telling them how important it is to wipe their butt, wash it, and always put the "dirty" clothes in the basket...but the ass crack smell abounds. I'm sometimes shocked and amazed by the smell. The unmistakable ass crack smell...the way it lingers, and NOT in a good way. I hardly ever "check" anymore, it just goes right to the laundry. When I first starting dating...well, more like living with and sleeping with and doing boys laundry, I was shocked by what I'd find...Did all men have underwear that looked as though they'd been ill at some point of the day? Who were these awful mothers who never taught their boys to wipe? Wow, thank goodness when I had sons they'd be clean and never leave anything behind...so to speak. Yeah right!
Now I've wondered if it is the difference is men and women? Young girls are taught the strong importance of the wipe. The technique, the direction, the number of squares to use, and the value of the wet wipe. We have other important things down there...good reasons to keep the area clean. Do we value our "valuables" more than you, men? Are we so freaked out by the stories of UTI's, Yeast infections, and other "roaming bacteria" that we spend more time than you making sure we work efficiently?
I'm not sure the reason but you boys do a sorry ass (had to) job down there. With my son I'm mostly disappointed with myself...I thought for sure I could end this cycle of messy pants, but no such luck...my 8 year old has ass-crack-smell. I spent time with him teaching him the proper use of soap. I spoke to him honestly about the "rash" and the uncomfortable feeling, but it's too late...it's happened. "ACS". It's not pretty. I still have the 3 year old! Maybe I can put a stop to it, but I doubt it. It seems as though I'm fighting a battle I can't win. I will just continue to "check", to passive-aggressively ask "hey, wash all your parts?"...and remember that with two bathrooms we need two containers of wet wipes at all times!

Best Wedding Ever!

I complain a lot about the weddings I work at...the people, the nasty mothers, the bridezillas, the rude behavior and the mess people leave behind that I have to clean up. Today though was wonderful! It had all the general ingredients of what I would call a good time for me...nice family, fun wedding party, cute dresses and NO tacky shoes...but it was more than that. The parents were kind, agreeable...there was the "step situation", now that's only a problem because I have to be the one who figures out where everyone sits and which mother walks down first and sometimes feelings get hurt...when a step-mother who has loved this child as her own for years must suddenly be reminded of how thick blood is when she learns she's NOT being escorted down the aisle like the other mothers (that's not my decision, it just sometimes get planned that way). But today's "step situation" was easy and they were all great...even sat together in a pew! Handsome groom, beautiful bride, awesome dress...no snotty aunt or mothers best friend to hang put in back and bother me by not taking her sit; trying to live vicariously through her sisters or friends child getting married...SIT DOWN!!! This isn't about you! There is one in EVERY wedding...not today. Today people came in, they sat, they left...they even took their service folders (programs) with them...didn't leave them there for me to throw away and there was not one crumbled up tissue left on the pews, NOT ONE! No panty- hose, no gifts brought to church and no super tacky 15 year old cousin wearing her mothers fancy shoes. They had their pictures taken, they thanked me, and they left...no mess behind...I just shut off lights and went home. It was not only easy, it was fun and it was what I always think it should be...happy people, nice people, people excited about the special day...no bullshit, no drama...just nice people who appreciated all the work and precision that goes into running their wedding. I even that moment at the back of the church when I'm alone with the bride and her father, right before she goes down the aisle, the one where I get choked up and start to cry because I'm so floored by Dads love and pure joy he feels walking his little girl down the aisle...that one kills me.
So best wedding in 4 years....finally!

It's The Little Things...

Someone believes in me. Someone who doesn't know me. Doesn't know my family, my kids, my past...my struggles and pain...nothing. He sees an ability that is in me and encourages me to use it. Sadly, with all my years in ballet I'd never felt this level of encouragement...ballet was discouraging at best, never feeling good enough, thin enough, and knowing that I was doing it for the wrong reasons. It's amazing how this has changed things. It makes me feel good, happy. I haven't had this in awhile. You lose it when you're home with kids for years and years. Yes, on those hard days when your baby is crying or sick and you're tired and don't think you can go on, I've been lucky to have FC to push me through, tell me I can do it and that I'm a great mother. But pushing yourself to do the right thing and care for your children isn't the same as feeling that you can do something...something for yourself, something that only has to do with you, no one else. You forget that feeling and you lose that if you...yes, I'm going to say it, work outside the home. There. I said it. I've known all these years that working would have at times cured some of my feelings of worthlessness or loneliness, but being home full time is something we decided and have felt really good about. That hasn't changed...but to go outside my kids, outside being "mom", and see that I can feel fulfilled...wow, no words can describe how that feels. So now that I have the thing, the person and the feeling it's just moving it into my life...making it work with the kids, affording it and not throwing up!

My Nightime Journeys

My memories of being eight and nine are funny...some are clear, like watching the same movie in my head over and over...and others are like looking back on a night of heavy drinking...blurry and parts of it feel like someone else.
Those were the years I was being molested. It's long, and painful and I try to forget. I can not.
I try and remember being at home...what did I do? Who was I?
I remember one thing...I was a little girl who would climb out my window onto the garage. I would sit and hold tight, crawling out to the farthest point...and when I would get to the edge I would open my arms, feel the cold night air and try to fly away.

No Trades

I love the fact that my 8 year old asks to be excused from the table and puts his plate on the counter. I love that he, at this point, needs no help with his homework and when I go to check it he’s done the weeks worth. I love that in the morning when I go to his room he has turned off his radio (from having it on all night), emptied his water cup, and gotten dressed. After he’s dressed he goes down and gets his own breakfast…this morning I was running late trying to get ready for “work” and he got his little brother breakfast too! He does not spill the milk and he puts it away when he’s done. He puts the bowl in the sink when he’s finished and he gets his vitamins.
If I ask him to take out the trash or empty the dishwasher he knows what to do and does it completely. I was trying to save time and water by having him shower with his little brother only to realize he wants his privacy and does not need my help anymore. When I know he’s in the bathroom pooping I hear the flush and the washing of his hands…then I go in the there’s no mess, no towel on the floor, or water all over the mirror.
He asks how my day was and knows when it was bad and says sorry. He knows what clothes he likes and how long he likes his hair. After good night kisses he reads in his bed and when he’s done turns the light off and goes right to sleep and sleeps all night, waking up promptly at 7:00 am. I hear him pee sometimes in the middle of the night and want so badly to help him back to bed, maybe getting a cuddle along the way…but he does not need it. He's ready in the morning, at the door shoes tied, coat on...though I always have to remind him to go get his lunch out of the fridge and put it in his back pack.
He answers the phone politely, knows the emergency info for the sitters and never acts badly because he thinks he can.
All of this is great and I’m torn between feeling sad and proud that he’s listened and learned and most times does not try to play the “kid card” by not doing the things I ask him to do…its great to ask him once or twice and not need to ask again. I know other parents who are not so lucky. Don't get me wrong there are still things he struggles with...using his shirt as a napkin, chewing with his mouth open and other things I'm sure 8 year old boys are famous for.
These things are wonderful when I remember how he's changed...how he's grown from the little boy who didn't speak, didn't smile, didn't answer questions and who I wondered if would go to a "normal" school. Though I'm sad. He's growing up and hardly needs me and its going to get worse...or better, depending on how you think about it!
He's sweet. So sweet he lets the neighbor kids grab his new Nerf Blaster on the pretence of playing then runs off to play with the other neighbor kid...leaving my 8 year old to play with the little girls. When I ask him if that bothers him, he says no. He tears up when you hug him or say sweet things...or the "Pure Michigan" commercial comes on the radio...because as he says "we love Michigan, don't we Mom."
As I write this he's running around trying to find just the right paper to make his brother a "congratulations certificate" for doing a great job on his handwriting homework! His little brother is 3 there is NO WAY he's going to appreciate the certificate! I 'm thinking laundry and bringing me coffee in bed is next!
Now, I love all this and think he's a great kid...but would I trade it all for a kid who didn't have a complete and utter emotional breakdown when the frozen pizza falls on the floor? Maybe.

Are You Ready For Some Football??

It's noon and I've had four people ask me who I will be cheering for tonight! Yes, the Packer vs. Minnesota will be a good one no matter who wins! All day on ESPN its talk of the stronger QB, revenge, and Brett going back to face his old team and fans!
So here's how I see it...I love football...the speed, the strength, the strategy and people ask me all the time how can I live in Chicago and love the Packers...there's no easy answer...and today that's not the question. So who do I cheer for tonight? My favorite team or my favorite quarterback? Is both a good enough answer? It exactly what I go through when the Bears play the Packers. So tonight, I want the Packers to win...to have Aaron do well and come into his own. But I love the fact that BF is doing well and 3-0...and of course there's a part of me that wants people to see he's still good and how much he loves it. But I get the anger and the irrational hate...I have it for Kobe! I have these crazy "reasons" for not liking certain teams or players...Danny Ainge, hate him for whiny face! Kobe, cheater (on wife not bball), Dallas Cowboys, steel cage stadium, big boobed cheerleaders, and their egos are bigger than that new screen! I'm am getting better though...I used to hate the Broncos and last night I watched the whole game and actually cheered them on...of course they were playing the Cowboys and I really want them to lose!
Anyway, I love football...and no matter who's playing I'll watch it, but I do believe Brett loves being back and want him to do well...did you see that Sears commercial?? Funny!
So tonight I'm wearing Packer hat, eating cheese and brats...but I won't be too sad if Minnesota wins! Come on over!

Waiter, There's a Tampon in My Soup!

So last night I went to the bathroom and pulled out two tampons. I know, you men reading may want to go turn on Sport Center! Anyway, if you're sticking around to read I'll tell you one thing...this is NOT how it's suppose to happen. One out one in...and so on! When my "what the fuck" moment passed, I was completely freaked out...suddenly realizing right when I made my "error". It had been about 30 hours before that...so I had these flashes of 6th grade when they tell you over and over never to leave one in for more than 4-6 hours...freak out, then remembered how if you get Toxic Shock you will get fever, then coma, then die....great big fat freak out! So I'm standing there with my pants around my ankles in the hallway, going on and on about putting them in and taking them out and bleeding and comas and freaking out, all the while my sweet husband is listening and asking what we should do...then we both looked down at his warm bowl of soup that he had just sat down to eat and suddenly both realized that he wouldn't be eating that soup after all! Opps, sorry for ruining your dinner honey with my tampon talk! Geeez, you'd think after watching me give birth (twice) he'd be ok with the yucky stuff!

My Husband Kicks ASS

Now there's really only been two times I've seen my husband go crazy on somebody...one of which was tonight. You see, he's the calm one...the one who thinks first...the "rational" one. Well bully for him! Just kidding...he's the Ying to my Yang. He calms me down...he lets me know when I've gone too far and he ever so gently threatens me from doing it again! There have only been a handful of times he's said "I'll handle it, you just smile".
And like I said, only a few times, two I can think of where I stood there and watched him rip someone apart. My secret is that I love it. Not that's he's mad or that the thing that got him so mad happened, but its nice to have him on my side, to stand up for me and the kids...to, when warranted, throw down and tell someone to fuck off!
The first time was when his sister called me a bitch to my face. Now some men would play dead and let the chips fall and cry the bullshit of can't get caught between family and wife...well not my husband, to him I am his family, his number one priority and in this situation she was out of line, in his book. Now I won't share all the nasty details, since we all laugh about it now, but his hair was up so to speak. I've never still to this day heard that voice, that yell, that pure rage in him.
Anyway tonight I'm out front watching the boys play ball with the neighbor kid, sweet kid with a mean soccer kick. Well the ball flies over, bounces off the next door neighbors steps, hits his door then goes into the grass. Well man if this guy's not flying out his door in 5 seconds YELLING at me to watch me kids, get the hell off his property and how could I do this!! Crazy. I answered back with the fact that nothing was harmed or broken and for him to go back in his house and shut up. Well then he's threatening to call cops and I'm saying the kids are on the sidewalk and he can shut up...then he's calling the "fucking cops"...well this goes back and forth until I look over and my kids are shocked silent and 7 year old is looking scared. I tell the kids to continue playing because he's just a mean lonely old man with nothing better to do...he then slams his door. ASSHOLE!!!!!
So later hubby calls with the daily "what's up?"...oh nothing, just crazy neighbor yelled at me in front of kids. Story finished, blah blah, OK OK, he's working late. Well hour later he's home, gets beer, takes beer to back deck and stands there. Mean old lonely man comes out from garage and my sweet patient loving husband explains how sorry he is that the ball hit the door. Well this guys starts his "respect" bullshit and how I don't respect him and on and on...not letting my husband speak...until finally I hear my sweet patient loving husband start yelling so loudly saying "DON'T YOU EVER YELL AT MY WIFE AND USE THAT LANGUAGE IN FRONT OF MY KIDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!", exit stage left, slam door, scene. God he's awesome. There's really nothing we can do about crazy neighbor, but I have to explain to kids that it's OK to go back out and play, that the ball may land on their grass and that Daddy or I will get it.
Kids should never have to see their mom getting screamed at and cursed at from a guy standing two feet from her. 7 year old told me he thought he was going to hurt me...that sucks! Some people suck and sometimes you're tired and sad and unemployed (which crazy neighbor is) and you take it out on those pesky kids playing outside...I get that, I feel for you, I'll pray for you...but not when my kids are scared to go outside and 7 year old looks like he may cry or get sick, well then that's it, you're a total asshole and back away, back far away.

Shut Up Carly!

Funny (or not) but I'd rather talk about having been molested as a child, than my teeth...I know, I know, crazy! For the past, oh I don't 30 years I've hated my teeth. Hated. Hate. Loathed. Now yes, I was a model for years and made it work...the smiling I mean, but for the most part my life has been about covering up my teeth.
The past 3 years I've been in the process of my own "extreme makeover"...starting with some teeth being pulled, then 18 months of braces (Invisaline) and whiting, then finally today some cosmetic work to fill in the space in between my two front teeth. When I was old enough to realize I had a hole in between my two front teeth and, other people did too. In the 6th grade someone told me I had pepper in my teeth and I went to the bathroom to clean it out, only to find the hole I thought only I saw.
Now as adult I either get the pepper warning, or people just stare at my teeth when they talk to me and unconsciously touch their teeth or run their tongue around their teeth like they've just eaten corn. To this day every single time I smile with my mouth open or laugh without thinking, I feel the pain of insecurity or I simply just reach up and cover my mouth. It sucks to have this pure, organic moment of joy and then feel the stab of self hate. I've never once looked in the mirror without thinking how this flaw holds me back from being happy. Now I realize this sounds very...what? Selfish? Narcissistic? Vain? Well, Carly Simon, I may be vain, but I'm human and I want to feel good about how I look. This really was just for me, since today when I told two friends I was having this done and how much it meant to me, they looked at me like I was crazy and had no idea there was a hole there...they could have just been being nice, but either way no need anymore to tip-toe around my smile! The hole is gone and I'm shocked by how good and natural it looks. When the work was done I was reluctant to look in the hand mirror they handed me...I knew what was coming. The tears were plenty...the joy of having a smile I no longer have to cover up!
Thank you, AMC (the best dentist int he world)...you are friend and you are loved. Thank you Thank you!

Love

today my husband took me kicking and screaming to the apple store on Michigan ave. The whole place freaks me out...it's filled with things I don't understand...computers, smart people and bright shiny things that clearly
I know nothing about! I can barely put music on my iPod. Well we left with a fancy new iPhone for me...now what am I suppose to do with this...I say this because I'm on it now, adding post to blog...now how cool is that?!
The kids already made a voice memo, we looked up our location downtown, and googled if there was Monday
night football tonight...which there is not! This thing is so small and I feel the strong pull of it already...like crack. Even the kids love it...they don't know why but they want one of their own...by the time they are old enough there will probably be something smaller, faster, better out for their generation...and the iPhone will look like an 8 track!

Bees Make Honey

A few weeks ago we went to a beach house in Michigan with my husbands family. This is a yearly trip that we've missed out on the passed two years. They had, until this year, rented the same house on Monterrey Bay for over 30 years...but with the passing of my father-in-law two years ago a location changed seemed fitting. We were packed up and ready to go when the call came that with the help of some invested bees we were being moved to another house to avoid the sting. It was an upgrade for sure! Smack on a private beach, plenty of room and close to bars, shops and the grocery, needless to say we thought we'd been looked out for! Thank you Tony!

Before we'd even unpacked all the cars the blender was fired up for margaritas and the week began! The weather was perfect, the water was ready for swimming and my kids were so well behaved I was shocked...they slept when they we were told to, ate when the food was ready, played in the yard, beach, playroom with their cousins and and not once in 7 days complained, nagged, cried, or needed to be removed...it was a true vacation! We (the adults) slept when we wanted, ate when we were hungry, laid for hours on the beach, and with the help of four aunties, three uncles, and a "Grammy" we had plenty of other people to watch our kids! That's one of the best things about all getting together, you're in a house filled with people that love your kids and are ready to help out if you need a break.

We had theme nights of drinking...be careful though, when "martini night" turns into "tequila shot night" you may wake up at 5 am in the tent pitched out in the yard, just sayin' it's possible!
My hubby had steaks flown in for "martini night" and a seafood feast for later in the week when my friend JBL came over with seven members of her family! How fun! My husband and I got in the routine of sneaking out around 7am when our kids were still asleep and going for morning swim...amazing! Peaceful, quiet, romantic...I gotta say there is nothing more beautiful than my husband in the water. Our kids swam until they were sore, ran, played, and loved being at the beach, so much so they both cried when it was time to leave and the 7 year old said, "I never thought about home once"...ahh the vacation! I'm happy they felt it, loved it, got into the routine and rhythm of doing nothing.

I loved it too, so much so it's been hard to think back on it...missing it too much. Being within a foot of my husband for 7 days was the most wonderful thing...I'm so lucky I feel that way and that he wants to be around me too! We are truly best friends, a couple, a team and if given the chance will pick being together over anything. The "sex everyday rule" a bit hard to meet when you're in a house filled with family...but you get creative, find the way and god-forbid you make it happen!

So we weren't back one week and we're planning next year...we will be back with the family on Monterrey, change of local every other year now, but we are looking forward to our own week...maybe with some friends, but to get away, walk the beach, see the kids free and happy running and playing...loved it! It was not only my favorite vacation to date, it was probably one of the best weeks if not THE best of my whole life.

After All These Years...

yes, still crazy, but that's total other topic. Today I dropped off 3 year old at school for the first time!! He is in a two day a week, FULL day program, but they're breaking these little guys in slowly, so Tuesday was "open house", where you stayed with them and played and today is half day. So yes, after all these (I know it's only 3 1/2 years but believe me, I'm counting) years I walked out of the school child-less!
Sweet! God, if only the bars were open and it would be OK to pick him up drunk! Oh well, being here in a quiet house is good enough. I had some grand plans, but decided take it slow, no hurry, I can do something big next week when I'll have more time...today I'm enjoying the peace and quiet...because soon I will have to pick him up, he will cry and talk non-stop, then I'll pick up the other one, they will then fight and drive me crazy until dinner time, then I'll give the showers, then put them to bed...alone tonight since hubby has dinner date with man friends to eat Greek food (better that than date with Greek boys to eat...oh never-mind), then more peace and quiet for me while I oh so lovingly do the laundry, clean up the kitchen, make lunches for tomorrow and finally have glass of wine and pass out...all the while though I will look back on this very happy, very peaceful 2 1/2 hours of me!

Looking Back

The topic of friendship is fascinating to me...especially with women. I've wondered how we can easily revert back to high school ways and how loss and childhood pain can cause us to hurt not only our relationships with men with with women as well.
How frienemies are around every corner and how we even as adult, broken women need close and intimate friendships. Now when I say "we", I do mean me. When I think about these things I have many areas I draw from...mostly my own failed relationships and the open conversations I've had with friends. I wrote a few months back a post about best friends and my realization of why I was still at my age looking for one...I titled it appropriately "Best Friends" if you want to go back and read. This post was sparked by a conversation I had with a good friend (JBL) at breakfast one day about friendships and needing best friendships at "our age". She made the point of "do we really need one best friend?"...this rang a bell for me and sent me to a conversation in my head about my troubles and expectations with friendships and those of women I know. I want this next point made very clear...in the post I wrote about "Susie". Susie is me. Susie is you. She is JBL. She is my sister-in-law HB. She is my old neighbor CW. Yes, you too CK. She is many of my friends...many women I know and have talked to about this subject, from all areas of my life. She is women who make me think, inspire me and make me see things in myself I didn't know were there. She is NOT one person. I "cherry-picked" to describe how we put our eggs in one persons basket and have high, unattainable expectations for our friendships and we emotionally pay the price. When my mother was born the nurses named her before she was sdopted, they called her "Baby Susie", that's where I got the name.

So if you read the "Best Friends" post and it struck a cord, or it opened up an honest conversation with yourself or a friend, that's good. If you read it and were hurt because you thought I was picking on only you, well that's bad and I'm sorry. Reading things that hurt can sometimes bring about good thoughts or questions and help us make the changes we need to make...I've learned more about myself though the pain I feel than anything else and for that I'm grateful.

Friendships will always interest me. I am a good, loyal, protective friend and have those high expectations of others...it's a blessing and a curse. I will forever wish more people got that and understood me. Today I had one of those days when I thought nobody loves me, or understands me, or is happy to see me. We all have pain and question others love and loyalty to us...but because of my best friends suicide I will always feel insecure and question if my friends truly love me and want to be around me.

So for all you "Susie's" out there...stay strong, be the amazing women that you are and if you ever question peoples love and loyalty to you, call me.

Groundhog Day

My days start off the same...wake to sound of kids coming in and turning on TV, Spongebob again. Roll over, stretch, sit up. Stumble down hall...nightlight off to 3 year olds room, make bed, nightlight off in bathroom, go to bathroom, empty training potty, clean it, nightlight off in 7 year old bedroom, make bed, pull back curtains. Head downstairs...make breakfast, turn off fan in downstairs bathroom, re-hang wet towel husband hung half assed, throw his PJ's in laundry. Open back door, put kettle on, tea cup out, tea bag, wait. Call kids. Kids come. Break up fight. Tea's ready, sugar today, always milk. Text husband. Miss him already. Drink tea. Break up fight. Kids upstairs, get dressed, brush teeth, brush hair...god, I make good looking kids. My turn...teeth, dress, hair or baseball hat? Check email. Make my bed. Time to get kids shoes...or one kid now, 7 year old doesn't need me anymore...good thing. Breaking up fights comes typically while I'm naked, going to bathroom, breathing and thinking how quiet it is, or on the phone. Remind 7 year old to go get lunch box, backpack, and jacket. Bag, keys, my hat, where are my keys?
Walk to car, break up fight. Car seats, walk around car, last moment of quiet. Drive to school, break up fight, listen to radio, kids talk, cry, fight, yell, sing, laugh, play. Kiss 7 year old good-bye and watch him run into school. Watch other moms laugh and talk in front of school, not up for it today. Drive away with 3 year old. Starting next week I will be dropping off both kids...taking 3 year old down to preschool two days a week and walking out the door....alone!

Backroom Mixer

If you've read my blog long enough you know that I'm not a fan of immunizations. I realize kids need them and my intention is not to with hold them from my kids but to better educate myself and contribute to the decision making on how many and which ones the kids get. One thing I always do is check the syringe when the nurse comes back into the room and make sure it is the same vaccine the doctor and I agreed to administer and also the correct amount. Mistakes are made everyday and I have no problem hurting some nurses feelings by implying she grabbed the wrong drug. Today when she came back the syringes were unlabeled, they were plain except for black sharpie pen writing saying the name of the drug. When I asked why the nurse explained that most vaccines were no longer sent in individual syringes...they were now in "bulk" and it was left now tho the nurse to fill and in some cases "mix" cocktail of blended vaccines for multiple doses. Now, I didn't cause a stink or ask too many questions...I simply asked how many patients at one time nurses care for. Answer: slow day, 6. So now we must leave it to a nurse to fill the syringes and "mix" the vaccine cocktail that goes into our kids...while she juggles 5-10 other patients. "Bulk"? Like Costco? I understand that before you ran the risk of error from the factory, the machine that filled the syringes, but now I would think the risk is higher...human error. I don't like it.

Etiquette #2

Thank God for Mad Men last night! If you missed it...hotty red-head was throwing a dinner party and gave her fiance the 411 on where the hosts should sit. Back then women knew how to throw parties...they set the table and had cocktail hour and read Emily Post. Working at restaurants I've learned quite a bit, but I'd always known a healthy dose of Emily. The sad thing is that having manners and using proper etiquette has in some cases fallen by the way side. The books are still around and the Emily Post website is great www.emilypost.com, but I can tell who doesn't read it...yes, going back to Etiquette #1, the people who bring gifts to the church...and the people who don't know how to set a table or where to seat people. I've seen forks on the right and glasses on the left. I've seen men shove by their wives to sit on the banquette at a restaurant, wrong! Women always sit on the banquette, "she sees the room and he sees her", sorry guys! Just because it flies DOES NOT mean you can pick it up! And for the love of God stand up when your wife gets up from the table (and when she comes back)...maybe not at McDonald's or Chili's, but out for a nice dinner for sure! My husband always gets up and pulls my chair, love it!
I think every PERSON, not just women, could benefit from a little Emily...they've done a great job updating in this "technology age" and having an understanding of etiquette is like owning a trench coat or a black Chanel dress, always in style and good to have in your closet!

If You Can't Dish It Out....

...yeah yeah yeah. My Mother told me the other day I should just write in a diary. I realized right away she was only half kidding...the other half in denial that it's probably my oh so lovely sister leaving nasty comments on blog. After there was some name calling and some not nice language (I do realize I dropped the "c" word the other day) I deleted that comment and another that called me "judgemental" for my "Etiquette" post. Now I'm the first one to say, yes I am judgemental...sometimes it's good, everyone is to some degree...we make decisions and judgments of people everyday and some are bad...those are the ones I'm working on and know I need to check. However "baby steps" is coming into play here...so where 3-5 years ago I would call people out on stuff to their face, which clearly was a self-defensive move for my wicked insecurities and shyness, now I blog my frustrations with peoples stupidity. Good or bad, that's where I am with that. Believe me, I know some real bitches, who will tell you what's on their mind, use no filter and walk away with no idea they're crush your spirit...I'm related to a few of them, and yet in the public forum of my "private" blog, I feel safe and free to express myself.

Now, my mother-in-law calls it "having big shoulders"...you got to take it if you're going to dish it out. Well, I'm working on it. So I will continue to write what's in my head and I will buck up when people write mean things...and I promise to no longer delete them, so my readers (RE, CR, BO) can read them!

Etiquette #1

I see many things at the weddings I work at that shock me...pantyhose? White open-toed sandals in Winter? Are you kidding? There are more and maybe I'll write them down someday and turn it into a small, funny book...but until then I will throw some random ones out...so here's today's...

Do not bring gifts to the church!!! Super tacky and ruins your outfit!

My Rules

I know we have to bring the kids to the grocery store...we're busy, we work, we need to go and they have to come...but what if there was a "no kids allowed" rule?? It would be awesome...because then we wouldn't need those carts with the cars on the front that are so big and awkward to move...oh my god, have you tried to get past one of those? or all the candy at the check-out...like we stand a chance. You could finish your shopping, thinking, planning a menu without the fighting, yelling, throwing, grabbing at glass jars...Ah, the good life.

Speaking Of My Ass...

...it's on the internet! For a while it was hanging framed in my house. It's hanging in strangers houses...and once in a gallery. It's in a "coffee table" book and it's sold as stock footage for ad campaigns. I never think about it, until I see it and yes, then I think how bizarre it is. It's not even just my ass...it's my whole naked body and face...different shots, multiple shots, various poses. No, no, no...no "downtown". I'm lucky that years (and years) ago, I posed nude...the lucky part is that I did it by choice and not some "I-was-out-of-work-and-needed-the-money-cheap-photography-session-in-a-nasty-studio-with-sleazy-photographer". During the time I was modeling I went on a "casting"...I was told this very well known and successful photographer was working on "fine art work". Long story short, he liked me and I felt comfortable with him and his crew...having been a ballet dancer my modesty had gone out the window years ago. I ended up working many times for him over two years...working for him led to me quitting modeling, working as producer and stylist, meeting my first husband, working at restaurant, having desire to work at Charlie Trotter's, meeting FC and falling madly in love and having two beautiful kids and now here...but that's a whole other tale. Don't you love when you can look back over the past 20 years and wrap it up in 10 steps!
Anyway, so here it is years later and I'm still naked somewhere...in the photos, that is...it's true what they saw, they will never go away or be un-done. The other good news is that I'm super proud of the work I did...if you can call it "work"...it was actually...sometimes even painful. Positions you would have to maintain for minutes at time was painful, or laying on bank of swamp getting bit by mosquito's was gross...and standing in front of crew of 10 waiting for just the right light was...hmmm well it was something you have to get used to and put out of your mind. I could tell you many funny stories of being on set...but I won't bore you. I will say that it's true what you hear...there is nothing "sexy" or "stimulating" about it. Believe me that crew saw so much tail, me and others, that I'm sure after a while it was common, at best.
Clearly I'm proud...I mean you reach a certain age, have a kid or two and you're like "see, see, see I was hot once!". The pictures didn't make it on the walls of the new place...but the book is on the shelf and if anyone asks I'll whip it out! FC just shakes his head and says someday we will have some explaining to do to the parents of kids that come in our house...when H & H announce "that's my Mom!".
I'll just smile and say, "yes children...once long ago I was a woman and had a great rack!"

Peace and Love My Ass

So for those of you who read my blog you know that I emailed the girl who flirted with FC for months and told her I was sorry (in so many words) for calling her 5 years ago and bitching her out. I did, to be clear, tell her it was very uncool to flirt (stalk) with married man who had a kid, but that I forgave her and realize that in our twenties we all make bad choices. It was true and real. I meant it. It was kind, well written and yes, for those who know me well, a bit...hmmmm, let's just say I walked the line of kindness and passive-aggressive-I-hate-you-and-still-want-you-to-suffer-and-apologize bitchy. Wrong? I'll answer for you..No. Was I expecting something in return? No...until I didn't get anything...and then yes. That little cunt never wrote me back with her heart-felt-I've-grown-up-now-and-realize-I-was-wrong-apology. Fucking whore. Who the fuck does she think she's dealing with? Here's the kicker...SHE has a blog and that little bitch jerks off each post about love and spirit and peace and love and karma and yoga and self-discovery and enlightenment and love...such a fucking hypocrite! I'm not a violent person, but if I ever see this girl I will punch her the face. I try in life to teach myself to take the high road, know I'm who I am and own it...and I can honestly say I tried and who I am fucking hates that little bitch.

A Fine Line Between Love and Need...

While the boys were having lunch today I started coughing up blood. I've had a horrible cold and then this morning my nose began to bleed and didn't stop for almost two hours. Luckily FC was home. I simply start to cough and (sorry to be gross) but clots of blood choked me. I made it to the sink in time and couldn't help but make some puking and spitting noises. When I stood back up right the room was spinning so I sat down on the kitchen floor. FC was there, talking to me and getting me water. What struck me was how quiet the boys were. Then I heard, "mama, are you ok". It was 7 year old. When I looked over at him I saw he had big tears in his eyes and was looking away. It wasn't because he was grossed out, he was scared. The 3 year old was quiet too and looking between his brother who he relies on to choose his emotions and his mother, on the floor not looking so hot. It was over and I sat at the table and talked with them while they finished their lunch.

In that moment I was reminded how we, the parents, are so loved, needed, depended on and when we are sick or hurt it shakes these kids to their core. I am the center of our family. I am the care-giver, not sick on the floor. I used to wonder what would happen if 911 would need to be called for me, or if I were choking would my kids laugh and turn away, the fear is natural, but I know now my kids would pull it out. The 7 year old has some through in other times of trouble...hurting my foot and unable to walk, he brought me ice, made dinner for his brother and put himself and his brother to bed...awesome kid! In a hurried dash to ER for 3 year old, I told him he could go to neighbors house instead of ER with us, he didn't just yell whoo whoo and run out the door...he ran and got toys and portable DVD player for me to take with me for 3 year old. My point is he's sweet and loving and I've always known he loves me...but today I realized he needs me. It was a scary moment for all of us...I'm glad its over.

I still have cold, though blood is gone. I feel like crap and have to work a wedding at church today...blah! Can't wait to come back home and get into bed!

Mary Poppins You're Not!

Over the years I've seen so many bad nannies at "work". I've even followed a few home from the park to then go back later and tell the mother how shitty her nanny really is. Some mothers were happy to hear it and some looked more pissed off like now they had to face the suspicious feelings they already had.
If I had toddler and left for work, I would want it to be like Mary effing Poppins was in my house, complete with cheery disposition! However, I've always wondered...what does Nanny do when no one is looking (yes, I would have cam!)?? Does she lay around, then quickly cleans up before Mommy comes home? I have seen nannies smoking while pushing strollers, sitting on park benches talking on their cell phones and yes, while at "work" you make personal calls, but not for more than 10 minutes and not while Baby a awake and needing attention. I have seen the "clumping"...which is the groups of nannies sitting together at park, talking only to each other and not watching their little charges at all! Today I saw three nannies and their little ones eating at a greasy spoon (yes, I take my kids to greasy spoons for lunch)...I was struck by the thought of "do the Mommies know their clean, white bread, Lincoln Park, soon to go to Frances Parker or Latin school little angels are sitting at this dump"?? Will Nanny report that "Billy" and "Emma" ate all their organic finger food from Whole Foods? Will she skip the part about the kids licking the tables at this fine establishment??
I'm sure there are some good ones out there who have rosey cheeks (no warts), they play games (all sorts)...they're kind, they're witty, very sweet and fairly pretty. Not cross, not cruel. She loves them like her own...but not in creepy way. She sings like Julie Andrews and tucks them in when you work late...Does this exist or is it now such a business and no longer something someone does because they truly love children and again, not in creepy way.
Anyway, I'm glad I'm home full time...I would be following Nanny around and completely crazy (shut up). So I'm happy to play with the kids at the park who are so starved for attention they ask me to watch them on the monkey bars, they don't bother with Nanny, because they know she'll tell them to run along. I'm happy to lift them up to the drinking fountain because Nanny won't stop chatting with other nannies. I'm also happy to follow you (Nanny) home, wait until after 6, ring door bell and tell Mrs. Mommy that you suck and I'll watch her kids until she finds someone else...so watch your back and do your job!

Act First, Think Later...

Calling the man who molested me to tell him I hope he dies a painful death....good or bad?

Staying with my first husband 3 years after the first time he hit me....good or bad?

Emailing the girl who spent months flirting with my husband to apologize for calling her 5 years ago and calling her a bitch-wanna-be-home-wrecker...good or bad?

Attacking a stranger (verbally) for her simple human struggles that are so similar to my own...good or bad?

These are some things I've done I'm thinking about. I guess trying to find my way into the right or wrong category is pointless...I am super ballsy and make mistakes and sometimes at the same time.

OK OK

OK, so I'm not smoking the "funny stuff" and I don't wake up singing "Oh What A Beautiful Morning." I wish...the singing part. I simply am trying to look on the bright side of things...sounds silly and easy enough, but it's not. For me looking on the bright side is something I have to remind myself to do. I don't for a minute that my life is harder or easier than anyone else's...I actually never compare my life to any ones...maybe that's the problem. I should think of people who have less or who have real problems...problems that I hope to never know. Like my friend Tammy whose 6 year old has a brain tumor and was given a 1% chance of survival. I was simply trying to be happier...to try and be better and feeling stronger. While in therapy its my last ditch effort before I try medication...something to balance the highs and lows. Is that possible?
Anyway, I'll tone down the "free-love-isn't-it-all great" bullshit.

On lighter note...I skipped my 20 year high school reunion last week. None of the people I was really close with were going. I regret it only slightly. I saw picture on Facebook and I have to admit it looked fun...oh well, maybe I'll go for the 50! What was great is that some of the popular "beautiful" people looked like shit and some of the nerdy not so pretty girls who were less than beautiful now look amazing! Love it!

*Note: My friend Tammy's little girl has "diffused intrinsic pontine glioma"...it is the most reluctant to treatment of all cancers and kids with it are given a 1% chance of survival. Most times the child dies within 18 months of diagnosis. For more info and ways to help with is incurable cancer go to, www.justonemoreday.org

Tonight

I've waited my whole adult life to be "happy". I knew one day it would come. I'd been through bad relationships and waited. Struggled with my childhood and waited. Woken up day after day feeling like shit and waited. Waited to be "happy". Then you
hear the theroy of the moments, the hours, the split seconds of happiness. Seeing them, feeling them, living in the moment...corny. Corny, but true. For some reason I'm happy. I can see clearly...(now the rain is gone). I can now feel the moments of happiness. I can witness the hours. I can walk up a flight of stairs, hear my husband reading "Miss Spider" to my son and stop. Stop and feel it. Feel the happiness race over me. Stop and smile and be thankful and down right happy. It's freaking me out.

*Note: Just to be clear, still never smoked weed!

My Friend

I took Brian Bolen to the "Sadie Hawkins" dance when I was a freshman in high school. He was quiet, with longer hair than the typical boy at my very conservative school. He wasn't on the tennis or golf team, or spent his weekends at the country club...he listened to Led Zeppelin and smoked weed. He was the goalie of the varsity soccer team. I would go with my friends and pretend to watch the game, but I was only watching him. He was my first "bad boy". We never dated or were the "item" of the moment...he was just a very cool, probably too cool for me, boy that I had a huge crush on. We would talk on the phone late at night...we told each other our hopes and dreams, and shared secrets of our home lives. One night I heard music in the background and he laughed when I told him I'd never heard of the band...it was Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven". He turned it up and we listened to the whole album.

We both moved on through our high school years, stayed friends and through some tough times I could count on him to be there as my friend. He was a year ahead of me and after he left we did not keep in touch. I've thought of him many times over the years and not only hoped he was well, but kind of assumed he was living life to the fullest...happy, healthy, with family and friends, maybe kids. I'd always remembered him content...content with himself, content with wherever he was and who he was with and happy in his skin. Maybe it was all an act, but if so he was good at it.

Brian committed suicide three nights ago. I was told he'd been unhappy for quite some time...he'd lost his wife in tragic boating accident and never recovered. When I heard I instantly felt the pain of losing someone close...maybe not seen or talked to in twenty years, but someone who had stayed close to my heart, who was my friend and who I would miss...he would no longer be out there in the world.
I'm sorry for his family. But mostly I'm sorry the pain he was in was so consuming.

Suicide is cruel. The people left behind are wonder and wish. To feel that killing yourself is the only option is a fate I don't want for anyone.

I walked in a store yesterday and Led Zeppelin came on right away...I don't hear them often. It made me smile with happiness and well up to cry at the same time...how wonderful.
Rest in peace, Brian. Thank you.

Weeds Rules!

Having added Showtime to our cable selection we needed to catch up on Season 4 of "Weeds"...only Season 5 is "On Demand" and airing right now. So I went to Blockbuster, *sidebar...I can't believe those are still in business and I'm not surprised at all to see many stores around town with big "closing" signs in the window...anyway, I rented the whole of season 4 and we rocked it out in two nights. Loved it. It's funny, sad, dark, sexy as hell. Nancy for all her faults is truly trying to be a good mom...and friend. Anyway, we're hooked as ever. It was a nice break from "Mad Men"...another, yes slow moving but crazy intense show that floors me and 1960, wow what a trip. All those women letting men treat them so badly...shocking! And oh my god the smoking! I feel like the cast should get paid extra since they will someday all have lung cancer!

Anyway...unpacking is done. We are living just fine without every little piece of memory out to be seen. I'm trying to enjoy summer with kids, but the weather not really helping. We haven't done many pool/beach things...between moving and the rain it just hasn't happened! I constantly worry my kids are bored, using electronics too much, not reading (7 year old) enough, and mostly just being ruined by me. Now to make it worse I've got this job I'm suppose to start in August...restaurant consulting for new place. It's only 4 months and the money is good...but to be honest I have zero interest in doing this job. Nothing about it "wows" me...the space, the food, the possibility of using my brain again and talking to adults...nothing. Oh well. If given a choice I would be like Nancy...sell weed and make lots of money and wear those cute outfits!

Not Much Has Changed

Things since the move...

Having two bathrooms does NOT mean you will have privacy or god forbid a bit of dignity.

Your neighbor (who is actually no longer your neighbor) will lock himself out and call you for his key.

Work is now 6 minutes away, rather than 20!

The ER is 4 minutes away (while driving fast at 130 am) rather than 15. *Harry is fine. I wish they offered a "frequent visit card".

I am no longer "laundry challenged"...I always knew it was the distance to the machines and not my inability to get the job done!

"Mad Men" (On Demand) marathons make the long nights of unpacking worthwhile.

I love ice machines!

I'm actually willing the weather to be colder, just so I can try out the fireplace and make s'mores for the kids.

All the boxes that I marked "Important. Open."...are not at all important and I regret having listened to myself by opening them...I'm stupid. We should have packed as though we were leaving the country for a year and everything else was going into storage. *see next line.

I love my basement!!! We have all those "important and open" boxes down there!

Having Costco so close is great and scary.

All in all the move went well. The kids are awesome and love their rooms and from the first night it felt like our home. I miss our old block and some of our neighbors...Thanks to all of them who helped us move, by watching the kids (Colleen and John) and giving boxes (Sarah). Thanks to those who dropped by to say goodbye and stayed for drinks! Thanks to those who had us over for drinks!! We loved living there for 5 years! We will miss you!

News Day

At first I felt bad and made snotty joke about Michael Jackson's death "over shadowing" Farrah Fawcetts, therefore minimizing her long struggle and sadly not bringing to light the horrible cancer that is, giggle giggle, anal cancer. But now (and I realize its been less than 24 hours) but its constant monopolizing of the news has me sick. Tributes? Shrines? Birthplace memorial...in Gary, Indiana? Wow. Yes, "Thriller" was a huge, huge success...but what has the average man/woman bought or listened to of his recently? If asked about him lately thoughts of creepy "Neverland" turning into ruins, plastic surgery, an ugly trial, and hanging his baby over a railing comes to mind. Sad, sure. Sudden, indeed. But hello? North Korea. Iran. Americans in financial ruin. Can we be sad and move on? Please.

MJ Dead

Michael Jackson dead at age 50. Musical genius...fine. Legend. Greatest album ever...maybe. To me, one more pedophile off the street.

Moving Day

Why is moving day so stressful? I just had the biggest heart palpitation while on the phone with movers getting quotes. I long for the day moving day means me putting the kids in the car and going to lunch or a park while the movers move...then showing up a few hours later at the new place. Does that ever happen, or have I spent too much time in the sun today?

Ahh, My husband...

Things not every woman hears her husband say while on the phone: "Hey, I got some tarts in the oven, I gotta go"...I hope he was talking about baking!

Run

I ran 2.5 miles last night! I love how each time it feels better and not gets easier, but at least makes me feel like I can do it! I've always had lung issues...most recently double pleurisy, which is an infection of the thin lining around your lungs, it's very painful and can take a long time to heal. Having pleurisy capped off pneumonia six out of ten winters. I saw a pulmonologist at NorthWestern Hospital last year and when the exam was over the doc said everything looked like it was finally healing, but that due to the years of pneumonia and the pleurisy I probably had permanent damage and that "well, you'll never be a runner"...in this like ha ha ha, no big deal kind of way. I'm not trying to be a bad ass by not listening to someone who clearly knows more than me, but it does feel good!

Moving

We are finally packing up our "two year" apartment and leaving the place we've called home for five years! It is both happy and sad...happy because the place we are moving to is beautiful and has central air, but also sad to take the kids from really the only place they remember living and move them away from their street and some good friends. I hate packing and with this humidity it makes it even less fun. The boxes are piling up and I feel guilty every minute I'm not packing or organizing some area of our place. I know it will all come together and soon we'll be sleeping in our new comfort through the summer heat! I hope to stay close with not all but some (yes you Ross) of the people on our block...I will miss walking to the park with the kids (though we're moving right by a bigger, better park with a pool), sitting on the front steps in the evening watching people and kids walk by (though it will be nice to live in a smaller quieter street and not have to yell at every other car to slow the fuck down)and having BBQ's with our neighbors that we've come to love (though I'm sure we'll meet other nicer people that we'll like even more, not nicer than you Ross).
Well when I think about it all like that I can't wait to get the hell out of here!

Sisterly Love

Stop. Stop. Please stop. Stop playing with her. Stop grabbing the hook and running, flying with it. Until I figure out why it gets to me so badly I have to stop dropping to a level I don't care to go to.
It bothers me. She bothers me. I'm angry. Angry because she failed...failed at being my sister, a daughter, a friend...failed at her life, when it could have so easily gone the other way. Her behavior...the constant failure and burden...it minimizes my struggle, makes it seem like she had it so much harder...when in that we are equal. Why can't her failure empower me? Why can't it make me see I came through things better, stronger, different from her. She went through nothing worse and still came out the other end bitter, angry, failed, alone. How she must work to get through her life...having nothing that doesn't somehow connect back to a failure. Nothing she can be proud of or relish in...not pure and good. It must be exhausting. She doesn't make me feel empowered...I'm too kind to take such pleasures from her misery. Her failure makes me feel pity and sadness and an uncomfortable intolerance.
I want to shake her and pull out the woman she could have become...the good mother, the generous daughter, the loving and accepting sister...but she is not there, could not be there and never will be. My anger is the loneliness. I am and have forever been an only child.
I need to focus on my own joy, my family and my life and let her go in peace. The sister I wanted never existed. I'm left with this stranger who lived in the same house I did and hates me.

Best Friends

A good friend said last week "I'm 43, do I need one best friend?" Why after all these years of looking for a "in town" best friend did this simple comment finally bring into light the reality I'd longed for...not sure. I think as 30ish to 40ish women maybe some of us are still looking for that "someone special"...a close, intimate, won't-get-mad-at-you-for-the-small-stuff, best friend. I have three friends I would call "BFF's" but they are all out of town...I've written about them before so I won't bore you...but last weeks light bulb moment made me realize what they have in common, it seems so obvious now, but I've known them all forever! I made those friendships when I was much younger and when I was at the age when that one close "touch stone" friend is an absolute necessity...like high school or later going through a divorce! I wouldn't have made it through hs without Krystin...and for that and the years after she is still and will forever be one of few best friends. Katie and Lynnie, same thing...known them forever and went to hell and back during the friendship, we are forever bonded! So why have I still been "on the market"? Why have I been through the honeymoon stage, and then the break-up with other friends? Why do I care? Why do I still look? Well the answer came clearly. We'll call her "Susie". Susie is so on the hunt for a "BFF" that she radiates it...and the fact that she thought she'd found one was both sad and humorous at the same time. If she were a cat she would pee on this woman's leg in public! Susie is not shy about calling this woman her "BFF"...and is openly jealous of other friendships this woman has. When I was finally totally honest with myself and asked the question, "what do "Susie" and I have most in common?"...the answer made the question of why I'd still looked for a "best friend" quite clear..."Susie" and I have both experienced loss. Sounds simple but deep personal loss is something we don't easily get over and it forever changes us. We long for closeness that can never be replaced. Coming to this simple conclusion made me not only have an understanding for the "Susie's" but for myself. I now am more thankful for the amazing friends that I have and as silly as it sounds this understanding will take the pressure off future relationships that I find myself in.

Run Sarah Run!

There have been times or circumstances in my life that I have been proud of myself...accomplishments with some jobs, standing up for myself in bad situations, the birth of my kids. Yesterday however I did something so simple and to some people probably so small I'm almost embarrassed to boast, but for me I was (minus the things mentioned above) never happier...I ran one mile! Now I have NEVER run anywhere...not for fun or exercise...not in school...I was sidelined due to my parents believing running was bad for my potential dancer career.
I have had this goal for a few months, but was held by fear of failing...thinking my body would have such a negative reaction I would simply fall over! Or my lungs would completely stop working! My 7 year old is big into cross country at his school and has been after me for a while now to run with him...at the practices and meets. For me it was not only running the mile and not falling over, it was having him by my side and encouraging me the whole way..."you can do this Mom"..."home stretch Mom, you can do this"...it was amazing! He was amazing! If I'd had the energy at the end or been able to talk at all I would have shouted it from the rooftops! It was a wonderful feeling to be proud of myself...I realized I hadn't had that feeling in quite a while. Last night when he said goodnight, he turned around and said "good running today!" I've been waiting to find something I could be proud of myself for, now I'm thinking the feeling of having HFB look at me like I'm a superstar is way better!

Fighting

Fighting with the doctor this morning who didn't want to give my 3 year old medicine for pink eye..."let it run its course"...yeah, thanks! Fighting with pharmacist who didn't have the medicine (yes, I convinced doc to give it up) ready even after it was "e-filed" more than hour before...jerk! Fighting with little woman doing my pedicure who cut my big toe and made me bleed...after I TOLD HER to NOT cut sides of big toe nails because, guess what? THEY BLEED! I have to got to work today...I'm praying the bride doesn't provoke me...or I may trip her down the aisle...oops!

Pissed

Tell me what to do with the anger I have towards the girl who hit on my husband? Aren't we girls suppose to stick together and NOT go after married men?? I hope someday karma pays her a visit and she's 10 years older, home with a baby, has no career, a bit sad and lonely, but hopelessly in love with her beautiful husband and some 20 something comes along and decides she'll flirt and laugh and talk about music with him...she'll wait for him after work and use the old "can you walk me to my car" bullshit...she'll taunt the wife on the phone with what "could have" happened...and she'll follow them when the move thousands of miles away. I would love to "pay this one forward" to her. Bitch.

Martini of the Week!

OK it's actually been my drink of choice for a few weeks now, but I've been too drunk to post it! Ha Ha just kidding...or am I?

This is a perfect summer cocktail!

Blend juices:

1 Ruby Red Grapefruit
2 Oranges
1 Blood orange
2 Limes
1 Lemon

Strain seeds and pulp. *Should be about 16 ounces.
Add 1 cup good Vodka...stir gently.

Add ice to cocktail shaker, pour in 2/3 mixture, shake for 30 seconds.

Pour into chilled glass, garnish with mint.

Invite me over...just kidding!

Enjoy!

Checking In

Calling my husband at work to "check in" is always fun...NOT. Most times he's too busy for much...I'm respectful though, I always ask if its a bad time or can he talk...if he can't I quickly say what I called for and wrap it up. Sometimes I wonder why he calls me...it's usually from a cab on the way to or from Whole Foods. Most of these talks are spent with him telling the cabbie where to let him off and then I get the "OK, gotta go, see ya later"!!! OMG, why did you bother? I know I know...he loves me...but come on! Sometimes I feel like I'm married to a brain surgeon or someone who's on the brink of curing cancer...but I'm not, I'm married to a chef and that's super, don't get me wrong...he's fun and creative and passionate about what he does and I tell him all the time that to love what you do for living and actually be good at it is a gift! But WTF?? So yes, I call and I either hear the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and make it quick, fine...or the cab ride talk, great...or nothing at all for like 13 hours...better, not! So today, that's what started this rant, I call and he says, "can't talk right now, a cab just drove through the bar"...what am I suppose to do with that one?

Cooking Barefoot

No, I'm not barefoot in the kitchen...but I have been cooking quite a bit from the "Barefoot Contessa's" cookbook. It's been great...soothing, relaxing, creative.
People always ask me about cooking for my "chef" husband and "wow aren't you intimidated cooking for him?"...my final answer is NO!! FC would like anything...pizza, tacos, sushi, burgers....oh wait, you meant me cooking and not ordering take out?? Oh.... well, I do a good meatloaf...and sometimes I made fish in parchment paper and in the Fall I get out the ol' crock pot and make a mean pot roast, chili, and beef stew. So when my husband bought me two cookbooks for my birthday I started feeling not that this was a hint, but that I could do this on my own and have fun in the kitchen...Anyway I'm always up for a great and easy seafood recipe and the Contessa proved helpful! So I'm writing it here in case you don't have her books and want to make a fun, easy, one pot one bowl, no smell, seafood recipe.

Mustard-Roasted Fish:

4 (8 ounce) fish fillets...snapper, halibut, sea bass (any flaky white fish)
Kosher salt, pepper
8 ounces Creme fraiche
3 Tablespoons Dijon Mustard
1 Tablespoon whole-grain mustard
2 Tablespoons minced shallots
2 teaspoons drained capers

Preheat oven to 425

salt and pepper fish
*FYI always cook seafood and meat at a cooler room temp. NEVER right out of the fridge!

Line a sheet pan with parchment or put fish in oven proof dish

In bowl mix together Creme Fraiche, two mustard's, shallots, capers, 1 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper.

Spoon sauce over the fish liberally...Bake for 10-15 minutes. Serve hot.

That's it! Easy and so yummy!

Happy cooking!

My New Book

A few times a year I find a book that I adore...that I can't put down...that I wait for bedtime and the kids are put away so I can read. The book I'm in love with right now is called "Driving With Dead People", by Monica Holloway. It's a touching story of her childhood. It's struggle, it's sad, and yet uplifting in how this girl who was completely abused, abandoned, and thrown out and yet made something of herself. Love it!

Funny sidebar...I was reading off the book titles next to my bed and my girlfriend and I were both amazed at the depressing and sad stories that I was sleeping next to.
For instance...a story of people hiding Jews during the Holocaust, called "The Zookeepers Wife"...war, death..."Shelter Me", a story of a woman whose husband dies and she falls in love with her contractor who her husband hired before he died...sad, death...Then there's "The Hours" which a sad story of three women living lives of Virginia Woolf...sad, death...I'm sure by now you see the pattern. There were at least two other books that I haven't read yet that pretty much had the same theme. Hmmm... I'll have to look into this.

Wholehearted Living

To be mindful...peaceful, open, vulnerable...and aware of truth to myself. Feeling the strength and struggle within and knowing that living a wholehearted, authentic life is something that must happen to reach acceptance...mine alone.

I'm finding this power and strength on my own...but also through other women. We are each others greatest source of strength, when ours alone falters. Opening ourselves and being vulnerable is the first step to letting this happen. I'm blessed I'm figuring this out and have friends in place to help along the way.

Diet? Or Just Shower More??

Did pretty well today...steel cut oatmeal for breakfast, salad for lunch and veggie burger with all organic fixings for dinner. Yes, I did have tea (black) with milk in the morning and a small amount of Light Ranch on the salad, but for the most part I think I get an A+! Puts yesterday to shame...three bowls of Trix and a beer for dinner and some "pre-Easter" candy all day...yeah I know. If I could eat more days like today, add more water and less caffeine I'd maybe be in the shape I desire. Haven't started the exercise yet...starting slow. I bought the big ball for sit ups, and I have the yoga schedule memorized, just have yet to sit on ball or go to yoga class. Have the battle is making the plan, right? My "cardio" consists of chasing 3 year old and dancing around at night in my underwear after a big glass of wine...yeah, I do it whatever! I'm reading "Skinny Bitch", which isn't doing much except scaring me away from dairy and meat...in a good way? The number is sometimes OK on the scale...of course you have to only weigh yourself AFTER you shower, or simply shower more than I clearly do so as to not accumulate 14 pounds of oil on your body...14!! I know, right...gross. The scale doesn't lie...I weighed myself before and after the shower and I weighed 14 pounds less! I figure maybe I should keep taking showers...if it were only that simple! No, it's not about weight...it's about feeling better and looking less "flabby".
The real question I have is will any amount of dieting, eating right, exercise, or weight loss make me feel any better about myself? Will feeling better make the imagine in the mirror like me? Will the reflection in a passing window not fire back a size 16?? Do I really have "Body Dysmorphic Disorder"? Or is it just all the years of weighing less than a feather just fucking me up...all the ballet and modeling lingering in my brain making me feel not good enough if I'm larger than size 4? At 29 I weighed 98 pounds and yes, was as tall as I am now. Now I realize that was too thin...and that seeing each rib bone was a bit gross...but that's the way I'd always been. I went from dancing for years to modeling, then working jobs where eating was an after thought (aka Charlie Trotter's)...so learning how to eat properly is something I'm just figuring out...plus, yes let's face it, I'm anorexic at best. The fear, the loathing, it's all there...I'm just not in Vegas! The imagine in my head is not pretty and looking back at yourself when you battle demons is not easy or something you can do without spending some time on it...I'm never the "pretty" I want to be. If I had someone to walk with in the morning...a reason besides myself to get out of bed, or someone to go to yoga with...these things would be more about feeling good about myself, than losing the weight that's only in my head ...that "weight" is why I pay a therapist!
Now I will put the kids to bed, dance around and resist the urge to eat the rest of the Easter candy!

The Bitch Is Back...Did She Leave?

Why do I lash out at people who are being perfectly nice and inviting? Is it because they are sweet and kind and pretty and super skinny and that makes me hate them? Yeah a little.
I need to keep it in check..."It" you ask? That bitch who hates, who is angry, who hates the people that smile and say "hi, how are you?" to everyone...the people who are so skinny that you want to make them a sandwich and shove it down their throat...the people who have so many children and look so super thin that you know they get up at 5:30 am to work out. They are the ones who have one Hershey's Kiss and feel satisfied...the ones that say "oh no thanks I don't want anymore" and they really mean it. They donate and collect and run and throw parties and remember every ones birthdays and never say no when asked to bring cupcakes or join a committee. They don't eat their kids Halloween candy or have to go buy more Easter candy because they ate the first batch...or eat entire sleeves of Thin Mints. They don't go in their room in the middle of the day and hide under the covers just for a minute of peace...or lock the bathroom door. Their Christmas cards are in the mail the first weekend in December and their "thank you" notes are written the day after the party. They have perfect nails even in the winter and at morning drop off for school they are in full makeup and never have a baseball hat hiding the nights before hair. They sound up beat at all times and have at least 500 addresses in their iPhone. They bring the right Merlot for the wine tasting party and read the entire book for the book club. Their kids room are tied together with a properly matching duvet and the walls are decorated with themes. They download the pictures the same day they're taken and all the albums are up to date and on the shelf in order of year. They don't feel self conscience when walking into every function or are brought to tears by the look of themselves in a mirror or feel the sweat under their arms when there are too many people in a room. They don't feel bad about themselves when they're not invited to a party, because they are at that party. They are perfectly sweet and inviting and I would welcome them into home and wait for the slip up...something to show me that they're not a Stepford and can cry and get drunk and feel the need to be alone and have your dignity back just like the rest of us. Will this day come? It doesn't matter. I'm a good mom and a great wife and a fun and loving person and loyal as hell friend. I may wear a baseball cap in the morning and eat my kids candy, but I like it like way...if I wasn't challenged to think about myself by these people...I wouldn't be half the me that I am. And for me that's good enough.

Sharing

As a mother of young children you can't go to a play date, play group, or class with out hearing parents encouraging their kids to share, or yelling at them to share, or giving them a "time out" for not sharing...you get my point. And why do we do this? To prepare them for what exactly? Sharing our laptops, or cars, or boyfriends, or clothes, or houses? Besides your spouse, how often do we really share as adults? Isn't the whole point of working hard to not have to share...not the bathroom at the shelter or the seat on the bus? As adults we don't want to share our things. If life were a sand box and someone came walking up looking to grab our laptop or iPhone and "take their turn" we'd think they were crazy and say "back the fuck off"...but we make our kids pony up and share their worldly possessions. The most refreshing thing I just heard at play date is the other parent telling her child "oh no honey that's your teddy, you don't have to share"...I was amazed and happy and now it's out there, it's socially acceptable to have things that just belong to them, and only them...that aren't spilled out on the table for all the other kids to touch and play with.

When I was pregnant with my second child everyone kept giving me great tips for making the first child "understand" about the baby and "share the mommy"...I knew in my heart this was crazy...yes, he would have to, but why was it crazy that a 4 year old would have trouble with the concept or god forbid act out? Thankfully someone put it clear to me...that no, indeed he would not understand and once the "novelty" of the cute baby wore off and he realized that baby was staying, he would hate it and be resentful...because (and this is the part I love) why would you understand and fully accept and soon get used to your spouse bringing home a new husband or wife? What if one day your husband walked in and said "well, here she is! Isn't she great! She's going to live with us forever and I love her too!" **Now some of you women may be thinking, hey that doesn't sound too bad...someone else to cook a few nights a week, and someone to have the sex when you just want to read and go to bed. But come on, would we really like that feeling of having to share the thing that means the most? Whether its a doll or monkey or spoon, or a parent...can we really expect them to share when the world their going to grow up into doesn't?

Loving Henry

Each day I have some new way I love each of my kids and I promise to write them down...but most times the day runs long and too hard for me to get to all of them...but I am struck at the sweet nature and kindness of Henry each day. One thing is that EVERY day when I pick him up at school he asks how my day was...not just asks but demands to know each thing I did and how I felt about each of those things. Most times it sparks a conversation about something...like I was mad or sad about something I saw or had happen to me, you see I tell him the truth, and show venerability with him...he sees me affected or mad...then I follow up with an explanation of why things sometimes happen and sometimes they're not good. Now I keep this "age appropriate" and keep some harsher things from him that he shouldn't have to deal with yet, but I'm not like other parents I know who keep it all sunshine and daisies, which makes their kids oblivious to the world. Henry feels things and knows I'm a person with needs and not just a mother here to serve and take care of him. He understands I need alone time and that its important for FC and I to go out without them...like he gets up from the table to get his own ketchup if I've already sat down...or anything he needs instead of making me get up...because he knows that its just as important for me to eat my dinner as it is for him to eat his. The other day I was not feeling well and asked Henry if I could lay on his bed (my room had too much dirty laundry in it to be relaxing) I showed Henry the respect of asking and he promptly said "sure...of course...you don't need to ask...I'm sorry you don't feel well...want some water?" I was impressed by this and again thought what a great kid I have.

I love this...I feel like I've taught him to respect me and treat me like a person and not just a parent that's here for his use only.
So when he gets in the car and says "Mom, how was your day?" it melts my heart and I feel like I'm doing a good job...don't get that very often and in lieu of "pay check" this is the best it gets.

*Just put Henry to bed and he said "mom, I want to say something sweet...your love is like the rain that falls"
Now I am not sure what that meant but boy it was the best part of my whole day!

Dealing

Is it true? Am I not "dealing"...dealing with my fucked up childhood, my life now, my trying to raise boys...all while chronic memories and panic attacks that sometimes lead to bad choices or bad thoughts? My sister expressed the thought to my mother that I was "dwelling" on my past...I now officially hate that word. I'm "dwelling"??
I'm not dwelling on or in the past...I'm recognizing that our past makes us...it makes us good, it makes us bad, it guilds us to make the choices we face today. I'm not dwelling by writing and remembering... I'm desperately trying to no longer make the bad choices that I once made. I'm trying to not let the past write the future and rule my life. By writing, talking, dealing, yelling, crying, panicking, and yes, sometimes letting myself walk down lonely scary roads I am winning! I am winning...
Because of my way of "dealing" or "dwelling" I no longer fear the dark, I no longer fear intimacy, I no longer have nightmares, I no longer have feelings of worthlessness or feelings of wanting the "pain" to just go away by any means possible. You see because I deal and dwell I now have the power to stop it...to take back the control and be the person I want to be, the person who is adored by my husband...and I'm strong enough now that I let him! I don't doubt his love so strongly that it pushes him away. I am no longer the child, the victim, the prisoner, the addict, the whiner. I don't have to lie or cheat or steal to be loved...I am real.
My past is just that, the past. But I never forget that it's there and sometimes it must be dealt with. Yes, I am still angry. I still hate. That possibly won't change...but that doesn't mean that I'm stuck in some spin cycle of pain. My pain is real but it doesn't hurt or ruin my life. I could have let it...I could be a drunk, or alone, or childless but I'm not...I'm here and I deal and if it looks like I'm dwelling, I'm sorry...but it's how I've done it, how I've gotten to this point of "normalcy"...it's how I've avoided that road of loneliness. Writing, yelling, crying, letting myself feel the pain is my therapy...I don't over eat or drink too much or make bad choices that affect myself badly and hurt other people...I write and talk it out...that makes more sense to me, it works for me. Wow, I seem and feel so defensive right now. It's hard for me to understand how this may seem strange, given the alternative. This way seems, at least for me the better choice.

A Girl Can Dream...

So if I could I would have a beat up pick up truck and drive around and hit people that make me mad...like the people that litter...I sat behind this asshat (thanks RE)
and he just throws a big plastic wrapper out the window...where does he think it goes? And what about the people that sit in the middle of the intersection turning left and they wait and wait and wait until the oncoming cars are gone, the light is completely red and then they just sit there not daring to go, leaving themselves and you out in the middle of the intersection! If I could I would just drive into them, not fast enough to hurt them but fast enough to really F up their car! They deserve it.

My Husband Is Awesome

Tonight after hearing I had not only gotten my period (Happy Valentine's Day to me) without a tampon in the house, plus had a hankering for a beef burrito (go figure), my adorable husband didn't miss a beat...he not only said he would be gone right quick (my words, not his) and be home with both, but he took the two year old with him! So I had peace and quiet for a few moments and watched the 7 year old play a video game, but then was treated to tampons and a burrito! I would have loved to have been the check out girl at CVS... watching my sweet hubby juggle 2 year old, burrito and buying tampons! I would have thought he was super cute! Good thing he's mine!

Men...Pulling It Out

How do you know when you have to pull out all the stops for Valentine's Day?? (from the title, what did you think I meant?) Well, has it been since last Valentine's Day that you brought home flowers?? For the past few Valentine's Days when you give her that card you remembered to buy at the last minute and pulled over at the first CVS you saw, does she say "oh that's ok...you love me all year long"? Bullshit. Now that may be true, but if you're not one of those men in line tomorrow at the flower shop, you suck! Now I agree it's a "Hallmark holiday", but please tell me you're not that guy who clings to that lame excuse. Don't be that guy who thinks their wife is so cool because she says she doesn't like nor require flowers...Bullshit! She's lying to you. Does she also say things like.."please don't do anything special for my birthday" and "wow, those slippers are perfect"...and "I just want a night at home with you and the kids"...Bullshit! Now it states clearly in the "How To Be A Good Wife" book to do and say those things, but I'm telling you that it's a load of bull. What you don't want to happen is a few days later when she's with a group of women to have to hear about all the flowers, or chocolate or lingerie they got and feel like she has to lie just to make you not look like an ass! It's like men talking about how much their wives love giving blow jobs...you know you're smiling and nodding along and letting them believe yours does too...that your wife is just the tiger theirs is, maybe more so...when the truth is deep down she hates it...oops, was I not suppose to tell you that? Oh right, it's right here in that "good wife" book..."let him think you love it...give it up every now and then to continue his belief that not only do you love it, but you actually want to do it". Now some women might not fake it...whores, I'm sorry "escourts"...and the other women I know who really do like it have either major issues or you should check the visa bill about the same time she decides it's a good night to drop to her knees...I'm just sayin'.
Anyway, how about this year you throw down for some flowers, or lingerie! *(remind me sometime to tell you about the Valentine's Day I was a model at a lingerie store and would try things on for men who were shopping...ahh, my youth!)
May I recomend Flora on Southport...beautiful flowers with excellent prices! FYI, never carnations...if you're not sure her favorite flower go with red or white roses!
Maybe if she likes the flowers, she'll return the favor with something you like!

Pap Smear!

Can they come up with better name for that!? Anyway, had 6 month check up today after cervical cancer scare last August. I figured I could bring HAMB and he would be well behaved...he would sit and color...look at the books I brought...and not notice my feet in stirrups. In short, he would offer me the respect and dignity I deserve and I in turn wouldn't scar him for life. I'm hoping he's too young to remember later in years what he saw...or didn't see, 'cause remember he is sitting in the chair super well behaved... yeah right! Dignity? Respect? Finally, I made the doctor threaten to give him a shot if he didn't sit down...what? It worked and for minutes I lay in peace...quiet, uninterrupted peace...yes with speculum up my "hoohoo"...but still, it was quiet. I'll take what I can get!

Ladies Please!

Ok this is for the girls who in today's beautiful weather pulled out their fun heeled shoes... IF YOUR SHOES ARE SO HIGH THAT YOUR FOOT SLIPS FORWARD WHICH MAKES A GAP BETWEEN YOUR HEEL AND THE SHOE MAKING IT LOOK LIKE YOU'RE WEARING SHOES THAT ARE TOO BIG...Please, they make inserts (you can get at CVS) to prevent your foot froming sliding! Please wear them! You look stupid! Oh and please remember that old rule of "the shorter the skirt the lower the heel"...unless of course you work at VIP's!

Movie Last Night

Run Run Run to see "Slumdog Millionaire"...we went last night and loved it...more than loved it...we haven't stopped talking about it. We downloaded the music this morning and can't stop listening to it...I'm listening to it right now. The theatre was packed, but I never noticed, never moved, never thought about getting up to pee, never thought about time, my kids home with sitter, where my purse was, did I want more popcorn, or more Diet Coke...I just sat there and saw what I'm sure will receive the Oscar for "Best Picture" and go down as a great movie for a very long time! I could have sat there and watched it from start to finish all over again. You know a movie is so good when the credits start to roll and people just sit there, not moving and watch...now this movie had some fun "bollywood" type dancing during the credits, but still...so good. Please go see it so I have more people to talk to it about. Don't wait. Go NOW. I'll watch your kids...drop them off. I'll drive you... and buy the popcorn.

Hi, My Name Is Sarah, I'm A 50's Wife...

That's what I would say at the meeting...Now I have friends who have not fallen into this. And I'm not talking about the women who "work" (and I mean outside the house) vs. women who stay home and "have more time" (bullshit). I'm talking about taking care of your husband, not like a child, but like another person in the family you do everything for. You drop off and pick up his dry cleaning, you buy his toiletries i.e. hair product, shave cream, deodorant, etc. You do it all. I have girlfriends who do none of this...their husbands stop off on their way home from work and take care of their own shit... I happen to enjoy it and yes, I do have time...nothing is taking me out of the way of what or where I normally go. I just think it's funny how some men (not mine) have had it done for so long that they now take it totally for granted. Their dinner is waiting, the clothes are clean, the toiletries are all in their place, the children are fed, washed, clothed. I even have friends whose husbands give them a monthly "allowance" for all things home. Now maybe that's a way of budgeting, or maybe it's just a way of controlling "their" money. I've only ever asked that my husband do 3 things around the house (that does not include helping with the kids)...1) taking out the trash 2) taking care of and paying the insurance 3) the taxes. Now that's not a bad gig. Now, I'm an excellent wife...I take care of EVERYTHING else. However, my husband is uber-involved with the kids...and I'm not taking the weekend bullshit... I love going the playground on Saturdays and it's so obvious that it's "daddy day"...and most times they're on their fucking Blackberry's. I'm talking about knowing the ins and outs of each of our kids...how to handle every bad situation, and being not just the "stand in" or the "babysitter", but a fully involved caring parent. I could walk away, go out, leave town for days and I wouldn't need to leave notes or a list or tell him a million things, or feel like I could do it better. We have each forged these strong bonds with each of our children and it's something I'm very proud of. I read somewhere that the most important relationship your child has is with the "same sex parent"...and I believe it. I carried them, nursed them, loved them, nurtured them and I love my boys more than anything, but the relationship they have with their Dad will turn them into the men they are destined to be. Now is being a 50's wife the whole story of me and what I'm about or what I have yet to become? NO. For more on that stay turned.

Today

Why is it a fight against others...kids, husbands, friends, people that think they know you...putting you in a corner of who we need to be, versus what we wanted to be, could still be, long to be, need to be...?
I struggle each day...try to get up, be happy, be thankful, be a good mom good wife...while I remember what I was suppose to be. The two don't meet and could never be. Be the leader, be the main strength of the home...cook, feed, clean, grow humans! Don't fuck them up... if possible. Don't look too closely in the mirror...I might think too much, remember too clearly that I was once something...strong and beautiful...a dancer, a model, a woman. Try to find the quiet dignity in the day. Run fast from the monsters that haunt...the man, the father, the words of my own that sting, the vision in the mirror that is bigger than the truth. Focus. Don't listen to your own head...the damaged kid inside who is still there and is still struggling for love, acceptance, peace. Mantra..."I am super cool. My husband adores me. I have out run the past and am the champion on my own life".
Must still face what's real...I can find balance in my life, the spot in between who I am and where my life was suppose to take me. I will one day have both. I will no longer find the difficulty in being, existing, needing to find the strength to get through the day...find a minute where I no one's mother, wife, friend who has let them down...just me, just to be me...if I can remember who that is (or let myself), I can do it.

My Bad

I poisoned my son. When Henry was a baby I gave him antifreeze. I also gave him ammonium sulfate, mercury, aluminum, formaldehyde, benzethomium chloride. I was never caught, or prosecuted, or put into jail for abusing my son. In fact, it was socially accepted as normal. By now, most of you have realized I'm talking about vaccines. I was a first-time-I'm-going-to-do-what-the-guy-in-the-white-coat-tells-me-to-do-rookie mom. I knew nothing. I researched nothing. I was not empowered by the information...because I had no information. I showed up for the "6 week" appointment and answered the questions..."was he sleeping", "was he pooping", "how much", "how little". And I did what they told me to do..."put him there", "hold him still", and the best "let's give him some Tylenol, because he's going to get a fever with all these drugs we're going to give him". That's my favorite. Never understood why. Never asked. Why do we give them Tylenol?? I know now. It's because inside those "drugs" are viruses...some live, but all working. Working to give them the disease we want them to fight off on their own later. Diluted down viruses. Then of course to preserve or contain those viruses other things are added...other things that if we gave our children at home, DCFS would come knocking on our door. So they get a fever because their immune system is working...it's fighting off the virus. This is what's suppose to happen. Given small, diluted amounts our bodies build up antibodies and later when we are subjected to polio, mumps, or rubella our bodies remember and are able to fight of the disease. Genius really. However, now that the schedule at your pediatrician's office calls for 26 injections by age 2 we need to start to wonder about those other ingredients and the possibility of long term side affects. Why in 10 years (the same time this schedule increased) did autism go from 1in 500 to 1 in 125?? Now, I'm not preaching. Nor, because I poisoned my son, is this going to be filled with regret or blame.

Henry was given a cocktail of 6 vaccines at six weeks, not unlike other babies for their first visit. However, Henry was born almost 7 weeks early. So his "six week" appointment was actually one week from his actual due date. He weighed 8 pounds and 14 ounces. Not much bigger than a new born (or his little brother), but he wasn't a new born he was 6 six weeks, technically. I think back now and wonder what his immune system was like then? What could little body tolerate this cocktail? Could it really stand all these drugs at once? More importantly, did it have to? Could those injections could have been spread out? Could we have waited? Could I have known more, or chosen a doctor who could have suggested moving the schedule around...Yes, to all, yes.
Why can our kids not be sick when they get their vaccines?? I didn't know this either. It's because their immune system needs to be in tip-top shape, in order to build those antibodies. The funny part is Acetaminophen (Tylenol) weakens the immune system, and that's what they tell us to give them...to mask the fever they get because we just filled their bodies with a live virus and other poison.

I'm not advising parents to skip the vaccines all together...but I know for a fact that some people have no idea what is in these drugs and since we have no data to say what are, if any, the long term reactions to so many drugs in such a small amount of time. Why can't we wait, spread out or hold off giving them? Why is it "one size fits all"?? Why is it presumed that all immune systems are the same?
That would be like saying 10 people sitting at a bar doing shots would all react the same, get as drunk as the next guy in the same amount of time.

I went back for his four, six and eight month appointments and gave Henry more. Now I have no proof that anything was ever wrong with him, or that there were any side affects what so ever. All I have is my gut. But I know this...he never smiled or laughed or looked at me for too long. He didn't speak for what seemed to be forever. When we walked we had to go the same way, touch the same things, and follow the set routine or he would not have a "terrible two" melt down, he would completely freak out. Once he rocked so hard in his stroller it tipped over. I found him at 8 months sitting in a corner hitting his head against the wall. At 18 months he said the alphabet backwards, over and over. He could say them forwards too, and count high. By now he would laugh and smile, but he would also stand in front of the door and play with the knob for hours. He would stand on chair on turn on and off the light switch. He was constantly sick...colds mostly. He would throw up all the time. Too much for me to keep track of. At 2 years old he never broke anything, threw anything, touched anything he wasn't suppose to, caused any trouble at all... which having the two year old I have now seems insane. By 2 1/2 and 3 he could not answer an open ended question. "Henry, do want juice?"...nothing. Then he started to just repeat the question. I took him to doctors in San Francisco, where we lived. I was thinking Autism. They said he met some of the qualifications, but not some of the big ones. I was told it was probably Autism, but since not severe we wouldn't get clear diagnosis until he was 5 years old. The fact that I could get him to smile, look at me, hug me, and after awhile stop playing with the doors and lights, showed is wasn't severe. Getting him to stop playing with the door knobs was no easy trick...I'd gotten this great advice to sit with him and get "involved" in the process. To say "wow, look how that door knob spins around"..."look how great you are at turning the light on and off". Then I would move a foot or two back and play with a toy, he'd notice and come play too. It sounds easy, but it took hours and it was gut wrenching. To know something is wrong with your child, and not know how to fix it. I loved him and used patience. I felt like I could pull him through this. When he went to school for the first time (he was a month shy of 4) he still couldn't answer questions, which made me nervous to leave him. But his school was excited by him, saw him as a sweet, quirky kid. They loved his intelligence, and they felt certain they could help move him along socially. It worked and now four years later he is a sweet, social, amazing 7 year old...with friends, and sports, cub scouts, and all the things a 7 year old boy likes to do. He is in 5Th grade math and reading, but you'd never know it, he's much happier to run to his friends down the street and play video games!
I don't regret what happened, because I wouldn't change Henry one bit. And I wouldn't change the years we fought together to bring him around. I love him more than I have time to write and I am so proud of him. I know the truth though, I saw it lay out before me. I can look back now and it's so clear. I feel empowered now to make the right decisions with boy #2...his doctor is very understanding and has let me make all the choices with his vaccinations. I would never put my decisions on other parents...parenting is very personal. But when you see me wearing my "Green Our Vaccines" shirt I'm not trying to be cutting edge, my desire for making vaccines safer come from a deep and personal place...my love for my son.

The only advice I will give is this:

*Know what you're doing...do your research and know what is in the cocktails. Plus, when the nurse comes in with the vials, CHECK THEM. Look at the order form and compare with the vials...you'd hate to have your kid given the wrong drug.

*Feel empowered by the fact that you're the parent and in charge! Just because someone wears a white coat and has been to school longer than you doesn't make them know what's best for your kid!

*Follow your gut. If it feels wrong...it just may be.

School For Both!

It's 220 days until HAMB starts school! Who's counting?? ME!! I'm counting!
Now, I realize it's only two days a week...but it's TWO days!! Two full days! Tuesdays AND Thursdays! 220!

Yes, I love him! *See earlier post! But still...TWO WHOLE DAYS!!

Cute Kids

Ok, so I'll keep them. I've decided, finally that both (yes both) my kids are sweet and cute and I will not look around for the warranty they gave me in the hospital and keep them.

HFB: (4am) "Mom, I'm not really feeling like myself" Me: "What?! How 'bout not feeling like yourself in bed?"

HAMB: (Pointing at picture on take out menu) "Momma, I take this". *Like the food here is too awful , he needs to order in! *He's 2!

HFB: (Me driving and looking in mirror) "Wow, Mom you got a mirror under there!" (Clearly still impressed with new car!) Me: "Yeah, so I can see how..." HFB: "beautiful you are." *That one still gets me!

HAMB: (on hearing my favorite catch phrase) "Mom, don't' say crap!" *He's 2!!

HFB: *Still all time favorite (on hearing that Freddy Mercury was dead) "He had such a good voice! I'll bet he's sitting on cloud, singing to God" *He was 4 at the time!

HAMB: (on hearing "NO!") "Awww maaaan!!"

HFB: "Mom, you're the love of my whole life"

HAMB: (wrestling with bigger brother) "No touch my body!" HFB: "HAMB, that's what we're doing" HAMB: "Oh...OK" (Then tackles big brother)

So no, I won't look for the return clause, or be taking road trip to Nebraska... These plus more remind me (even when it's 6:30 am and I hear running and screaming) that they are cute, and mine and I love them!

Potty Training

I must say I'm pretty impressed with HAMB's potty training outcome. Now to say "potty training" implies that I actually trained him...not so much. I really just gave him the tools and he did the rest. In one day time he was using his little potty and the big one for the "big stuff", he never looked back and has only had one accident. He refuses to wear "pull ups" and diapers are a thing of the past, which is great on the financial front! We sneak a "pull up" on him after he's asleep, but it's bone dry in the morning...at almost 3 he's already getting up at night half asleep and peeing! I couldn't believe the other night when I heard it...for a parent there's nothing better...that feeling of "oh yeah, no more diapers, no more wiping that butt!" It's parental freedom. We've spent 2 hours in the car or outside, and he tells me when he's got to go..and he'll pee anywhere! Target, the grocery, outside!
I'm truly not that surprised, he's an extremely independent, feisty child...not sure where he gets it...FC has a theory. HAMB said the other day when he found me making his bed "hey, what are you doing in my room??" (screaming)...then when I told him I was making his bed, he said "oh yeah, that's your job!". Nice.

Runaway

In 1997 I ran away. I ran away from the people I knew, the life I was living. I ran away and never, well I guess not ever, but not for a long time looked back. That summer my then husband and I were living like room mates...we knew it was over. There was nothing left to fight about. We'd tried and tried again, only to finally lose. I took a trip to San Francisco...just a weekend away to visit a friend from high school (*more on him in future post). I was taking a long time coming vacation, alone. Before I'd left I'd begun a "relationship" with someone I'd met at work. Todd. He was this sweet young man, who lit up the room. I hate to say "relationship", because "relationship" implies sex...not the case. We were friends, then more. We walked. We talked. He held me and was kinder to me than I'd known. He was ending a relationship (sex implied and yes) and I was soon to be leaving my marriage. There were no promises or expectations, but there was something. It was palpable. It was a safe spot for me when I knew no safety. He was the only person I talked to when I was in San Francisco. He was the only person I saw when I got back. I brought him a jade ring. Go ahead and call me a whore.
I was only back for a few hours, I'd made plans to go to Michigan to see my Mom. While there I realized something, something that forever changed my life. I realized that the nightmares, tension, stress, lost loves, failed marriage, bad choices, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, and all around feeling damaged came to light in one day; one moment in Michigan. It was the day the full memory of being molested came into focus. It had always been there, following me like a stalker, ruining everything I touched, but I'd not seen it, not been ready to face it. That whole Summer into Fall it was there, then in San Francisco, then finally in Michigan something was looming. This was it. It was real. The sights, sounds, memories, smells came rushing back. My mom had been sitting with me on the deck, she went pail, she'd known too. Knew something, the way you think back on your morning and know you left the coffee pot on.
I left for Chicago the next day. I got back and started my escape. I went back to work and was fired, which I saw as a sign. I got an apartment and told my husband I was leaving him. Even though it was coming this made it shockingly real to him. He was mad...though helped me pack.
In my new apartment I figured out something huge and freeing...I was not at all ready to deal with this new found reality. Sounds crazy, but everyone and everything I knew from before the day I figured out I'd been molested, felt wrong...not wrong so much as painful. I didn't want to be the person they knew, because I knew she was damaged. I wanted to disappear, become a new person.
My new job offered me that. No one knew me. I could be anyone. Lucky for me it was an all or nothing job. 14-16 hours days, new things to learn, new friends, new challenges. So I was gone. I returned few, if any, phone calls from my life before, blew off plans, and worse was that I made no excuses, gave no explanations...told nobody the truth.
My husband who did know the truth, honestly admitted he had no interest in going down that road with me, so we were officially no longer speaking. I filed for divorce and it was over quickly. So, back to Todd. I made a few atemps to see him, to keep him in my life. But the truth was it was an intimacy I was not at all ready for. I would have had to eventually be damaged, broken and truthful with him and myself. So I broke plans, lied, and ran away from him. I dove deeper into my job and new life, new friends, and never saw or heard from him again. I ran from this beautiful, caring man. He, of anyone, would have been there...been an understanding friend. He would have listened, helped me, held me, cried with me, loved me. But it was my shortcoming, not his. I ran.
Now, you can't run forever. I did go back, not to the people, but to the truth about me and what happened. I went back and dealt with the 8 year old little girl alone in a room with her school teacher. She's still here...the damaged little girl, but now I'm stronger. I don't run. But sadly I never went back and apologized to the people I ran from. To them, to Todd, I'm sorry. I wish I'd been stronger. I wish I'd been honest and ready to deal with the past. Funny that I called my teacher, the monster, and told him I remembered what happened, and that he could fuck off and die, but I never had the courage to call the people I'd walked out on and say sorry. My self-esteem told me that they wouldn't understand, I wasn't worth the trouble. I'm sorry I never gave them the chance. I'm sorry Todd. You were a sweet friend, great kisser, who warmed my soul and made me smile.

I'd love to "wrap up" all this with some moral or better understanding, but I can't. My childhood, such as it was, is something I carry...it's something that will be with me forever and the demons that follow me are huge, but each day is a new chance for me to be safe and secure with who I am and save myself from the monsters. Tigerlily did this for Peter Pan. I'm talking the real book by J.M. Barrie, not Disney! She was this strong, beautiful daughter of the Indian chief, who was not afraid of the pirates and who rescued Peter on more than one occasion. Peter saw her as a self reliant, bad-ass who could come in and save the day. I want to be like Tigerlily in Peter's eyes...so, Bob, that's why my blog is called Peter's Tigerlily.

My Blog Friend...and neighbor.

So he's this kind of funny...read my blog from earlier today titled: Men.
Then read my blog buddy/neighbors blog...www.ellasdeli.blogspot.com (his blog link is to the right on my "blog list") and you'll know what I'm dealing with. Also all the comments on that post of mine were written buy him. Seriously, not sure whether to have crazy affair and run off with him or move.

Men

Hey you, men I know (not husband)...if I touch your arm when I'm talking to you, it doesn't mean I'm hitting on you or that I "like" you. I'm touchy. I'm feely. I'm touchy feely. I hug people. I touch your arm if you tell me something sad, or that you've had a bad day, or if you're unhappy...or let's face even if you're telling me it may rain...look out, I may touch your arm. I cry at commercials or uplifting-end-of-movie-music, or just thinking about something sad I heard one time. I hug you to thank you, congratulate you, say I'm sorry, or haven't seen you in a while. If you've been to my house or I've been to yours, you're going to get a hug.
Face it. Deal with it. And for those of you thought "wow, she's hitting on me", get over yourselves.

My Friends

Four years ago I had 5 best friends. Girls I'd met in different places, work mostly and one high school. Funny, but they've never met each other...maybe because we all live in different states, or maybe because I tend to compartmentalize my friendships. My fantasy was to have them all together...drinking champagne, but that never happened. I was with Katie the other day. She lives in L.A. and comes to town with her kids twice a year. We've been friends for 12 years. We've seen each other through 2 divorces, mine and hers. Kids. Growing older. Sitting with her the other day reminded of the closeness. It was all back, in an instant. No time goes by when I'm not with them. I could sit down after not talking for months and we could pick right up with life; problems, husbands, kids, diets, struggles with mothers, drinking too much, not sleeping enough, sex, work...just our lives spilled out over coffee or cocktails. We email, talk on the phone, but nothing replaces sitting in their presence and feeling unconditionally loved and accepted. These women have seen me at my best, and worst and drunk with my head in a toilet. They are my touchstones.
I've been Friends with them all a minimum of 10 years...and the plan was to make it longer.
When I got pregnant with my second son my friend "B" who I met at work decided she no longer wanted to be my friend. This was shocking to me. There was no fight, no words, no arguing...just a decision and the harsh follow through of silence.
On Amy's birthday a few years ago I called her, only to have her mother answer and tell me she'd committed suicide. Amy and I had also met at work and been at the time best friends for 10 years. She was for those years not only one of these girls I loved and depended on, but a closer part of my heart. The one I called first. The one who I didn't need to work myself up into telling a nasty secret. The one I ran to when the fights with my first husband got bad. She would listen and laugh and cry with me. She loved me, held me, walked, shopped, dreamed and helped me move when I left that husband. She was a light in my world. She killed herself. I still have a very hard time with it. The guilt I carry is a heavy weight. I feel scared, forever changed. Like I've not moved, laughed or cried the same since. I was not there. I was not diligent in helping her through her troubles. I could have saved her, I know it. She's been dead 4 years and I still pick up the phone to call her. Still miss her so badly each time I see her face in my head or in a picture or on the street with someone who reminds me of her. I stand at her grave and feel sick. I dream of walking arm in arm as we used to, or curled up in bed with her on a cold day drinking tea, or laughing so hard it hurts. But she's gone.
Then there were three. The ones left are as dear to me as air. They know me. They love me and I feel safe and understood in their presence. I worry about losing them. I think I wouldn't be able to stand it. They don't live close and I don't see them often, but they're there and if I needed them they'd be there. Thank you Katie, Lynnie, and Krystin. I love you.

Fathers

I've had this in my head for a few days... I'm currently reading "The Middle Place", Kelly Corrigan writes with such tenderness about her Dad, "Greenie". It made me reflect on my own father. Even as I sat down to write just now my friends blog popped up with her latest post and surprise, it was about her Dad "Popper". She, like Kelly, speaks with such grace, such love, such respect, and a deep understanding for this special relationship...one that I will never know. I don't know what it feels like to have your Dad as your "king" or the man you hold every boy against. I have never felt put on a pedestal, encouraged, respected or like "Daddy's princess". I work as a wedding coordinator for a church and each time I wait with the bride and her father I stand there in utter silence...completely stunned by their closeness. The three of us are normally alone at the back of the church waiting for the brides music. She'll breathe and he'll look choked up. She'll slowly take his arm and look like she can't imagine letting go. Most times after they've walked down the aisle and I'm alone in the back I have to walk away to wipe my tears. It hurts too much to watch.
My father (I say father because dad is too sweet, too personal...father is all biology)...anyway, took me to dinner once when my mom and sister were out of town. He left me with the waitress and I slept at her house. He'd probably had too much to drink or wanted to have the night for himself without my mom knowing. The next day she put me on the city bus to go to his work. I was 7 years old.
My father would leave us at night when my mom was working, to put gas in the car he would say. I would hear him come around 3 am. I remember being left in a cold car for what seemed like a long time. I remember drugs. Parties. Having a stranger in my bed. And all those "sons I never had"...that's what he would call the boys, yes boys, mostly 17-20 years old, that he would have in our house. I found out later he had sexually hit on all of them. He'd used their "friendship" and the boys troubles at home to seduce them. I tracked a few of them down about ten years ago and one described my father as the "demon in his nightmares". These were sons of friends, co-workers kids, even his own nephew(s). I remember yelling, fighting, being lonely, being afraid, feeling scared, unloved and small. The one aspect in my life he took interest in was my ballet....only to then figure out he was just using me and my love of it to meet men. I've never been able to dance since. Friends and family have questioned my being "estranged" from my father...some tell me I should forgive, forget, lose my anger. I've even been looked on as the "black sheep" from part of me family...they think I'm being irrational and judgmental. But they weren't there, they didn't see the pain in those men's faces, those men who are now grown with their own families, who are still haunted by their molester...my father. The day you realize your father is a pedophile is not a good day. The pain runs deep and for me there's no being OK with it. I hate what he did to them and that we (my sister and I) were ignored along the way...pushed aside so he could live his "double life". I've only called him out on this one time...he'd left a drunk message on my voice mail saying he was going to "sue me for visitation of my son"...yeah right, good luck with that! I would never leave that man alone with any boy at any age let alone my own son. When I called to tell him to go to hell, I mentioned that if he did I would be bringing some "star witnesses"...some boys from his past. I've never spoken to him since and he's never called again.
So I can read Kelly Corrigan's book and hear about her Dad, her hero. I can watch the brides walk and the Dad's cry, hear my friends stories about their "kings", but I will never understand completely. I will never know the feeling of being "Daddy's little girl". I live with my memories and the disappointment, the sadness in never having a "Dad".
The closest I came was my father-in-law. Tony was a sweet, smart, funny man who loved his wife and kids. He treated me with respect and would always say "gimme a kiss" when I saw him. I loved him very much. When I was sad one day having learned that my father was telling people I was dead, Tony said "well, you got me". That meant the world to me. Tony passed away about a year ago. My husband and I miss him each day and talk about him all the time. He stood next to my husband when we got married...there is this cute picture of Tony holding my flowers. Our Dad (FC said we could share). Thank you Tony.

New Year

Running from your childhood can be exhausting. I've done it my whole life. When I became a parent at age 30, I hoped I would be smarter, do things better....those feelings we all have, the hope of not being like our parents. But for me parenthood came so fast and so unexpected that I had little time to figure out how to not be the parent I didn't want to be. Can we run? Can we change? Are the mistakes our parents made so deep in our marrow that we can't escape it? What I realized today is that we are not bound to repeat the past. Simply because our childhoods were far from perfect, doesn't mean we can't make better choices, learn from the bad and challenge ourselves to be the people and the parents we want to be. Realizing this today was freeing. I've felt, or feared, since my oldest son was born that it was a fore gone conclusion that I would not only become my parents, but that I would exhale their mistakes like air...that the DNA was too strong to stand up against. The deeper I had sunk into "becoming my mother", the more I was freaked out....I mean let's face it, the vacuuming was one thing, but the need to control and the OCD is quite something else. I never thought I would fall into that trap...I thought simply hating it was enough to keep it at bay. I was wrong. I've encouraged my mother for a while now to try some drugs...to not only, selfishly make my dealings with her easier, but to ease her own life...to free herself from the chains of the "OCD/Sky-Is-Falling" syndrome (my own diagnosis). She has refused. The frighting realization that the vacuuming was way back there and I'd moved on to something far more scary, was when we all piled in the car to take my mom to the train from her Christmas visit. We recently got a new car and my son wanted to sit in the third row seat. As my husband took charge of moms suitcase I buckled the 2 year old in the car seat. Small things were preventing me from doing this smoothly...his leg, the strap, the buckle...plus the wind, my shoes, his kicking, the ice. Then my older son needed help with his seat belt. In order to help I had to get in the second row, between my mom and the 2 year olds car seat and lean into the third row and struggle with the belt. Again, many things were in my way...the radio was loud, the 2 year old was making noise and still kicking, my older son was like a rag doll and not moving or helping and my mom was doing her little "rainman hum" in my ear. Not sure when this started or why...she says she doesn't even notice it. I think it's from living alone and it's turned into a security thing....Who's on first?? It's a three note hum and it would make total sense if she were sitting in a psych ward, but having that in my ear while I'm struggling with my sons seat belt was enough! I yelled at her to stop, yelled at my son to help, smacked at the 2 year olds feet to stop kicking and gave my hubby "wicked vibe" when I finally returned to front seat. Now clearly this is not the way I want to behave. I wanted it to be easy, clean, simple. To jump in the car, buckle up and drive. To laugh, sing, tell jokes and hug and kiss my mother goodbye. Instead I wanted to curl up and cry for days. I hated how I acted. I hated that it was too much like my mom when I was little...mad at the small stuff, the stuff she couldn't control, the stuff that got in her way. The anger she carried for my father was heavy and exhausting to haul around each day and it would boil over, having always been just at the surface.
So I'm back to my thought today... my childhood, or DNA, or surroundings can't dictate my parenting. I choose to be different. Run, yes, run as I've done from my childhood and not look back. And next time the car seats, seat belts, radio, humming, ice, snow, cold, car, wind, fabric, kicking, talking, or yelling are getting the best of me I will take a breath, and not roll over to the past. I can make my own way, my own rules...my life, my kids, my family... my new year.

SNL Update

Ok, it sucked. I watched, I didn't laugh, I hated, I regret the lost time. However, I'm sticking to my thought that I, like many of you, are too old for it. Not that it's "young" humor, its just that we're older, it takes more to get us laughing. I'm just kidding. I really don't know why it sucks so bad, but I wouldn't go so far as to act like some critic and hate it week after week! I can think of better things to do with my Saturday nights.... can't think of one right now, but I'll come up with something for next week. I think some of us (BOB) need to let it go. Move on. See and realize it sucks and it's no longer funny, the women are clearly fat and unfunny, and stop watching it. You know what you are? You're one of those people that keeps going back to the restaurant with the bad service. Maybe it used to be a good place, with fine and friendly service. Then it started to slip and you said nothing...they'd forget a drink or you'd wait too long for your boiled chicken...you stayed quiet. Now they're dropping drinks down your back and the food smells a bit funny and you keep going back for more...all the while telling everyone, all your co-workers, friends, neighbors, college roommates neighbor, that you hate it. You bitch and moan and still you go. You go, you eat, you hate, you bitch. You wait, you hope, you dream of the day it will be better, the day they will impress you. So you keep going in with that chip on your shoulder and leave that shitty tip. Stop going. Stop bitching. Stop leaving the shitty tip. My friend, it will never be what it once was. Find a new place to eat, a new show to watch. Bob, I think over a glass of scotch, we'd be good friends.

Looking Ahead

Due to the kind invite of my friend LSE I will be joining her and 4 other women on a girls weekend to Tucson! Now even though its not until March I've already begun fantasizing about the warmth, the pool side margaritas, the day trip to the spa (Canyon Ranch no less), and the sleeping in until I wake up...not to children or a flash light shining my face like this morning, thanks HAMB! I will wake up to silence or possibly the noise of the blender making that first batch of drinks, or the laughter of other women who have hung up their "mom hats" for a few days and are enjoying each others company. WOW! It will be four full days of Me. Just me. I'm so thankful I'm finally at the age where I love being around other women...I didn't for a long time. Yes, I was the girl with more guy friends than girls, and who would dump those few girls like hot cakes if my boy-of-the-moment called....yeah, I was every girl friends catch! But that's all changed...I have girlfriends now. I completely credit having kids for this...and yet I feel like I'd like these women anyway even if we didn't know each other through the kids. The common bond may have been planted by the kids, but now and will continue to run deeper. I'm sure we will talk about the kids, the husbands, the schools, the teachers, the problems, the fears, the eating, the growing, pooping, sleeping, talking back, crying, the lack of sex, the how to cope, how to survive, how to help, how to support, and how to change. But we won't have to wipe anyone, feed anyone, yell, do homework, change beds, do laundry, rock to sleep, walk them back to bed time after time, pretend to listen, fold or smell the clothes off the floor, drive anyone anywhere, sit through a sport, a club, a meeting, a group, talk about diapers and whether to stop going to Costco. We won't have to run to the store to finish the class project, we will go to buy more limes, more mixers, and more food only if and when we feel like eating. We will sleep, read, swim, sun, laugh, play cards, drink heavily, sleep and sleep and read and read and all the while never feel guilty or alone. The days will go by fast, too fast. Sooner than we know will be on the plane, ironically probably tired and/or hungover on a Sunday night after 4 days of bliss and know that the next day is Monday and that means school, wiping, feeding, talking, yelling, homework, laundry and the constant job of being a mom. We will creep into our kids rooms and kiss them while they sleep and think how different they look, we will look around the house and think of how messy it is and how it will be a lot of work getting it bad to "normal"....but it won't matter, we'll be home and that's the best place... and we'll have had a great time, a well deserved time, and a time come Tuesday we'll think back on and wish we were still there. So for now it's a fantasy keeping me warm during these cold days, so if you see me gaze off while the kids are fighting or HAMB is being a bucket head and driving me crazy and smile to myself chances are that's what I'm thinking about.

Update On Health

I wrote a few weeks ago that I'd been feeling tired and had had an entire blood work up. I wanted to update that I'm fine. The mole came back totally benign and it turns out I had/have Mono! Super! What am I in High School and been kissing the wrong people? Do boring mothers of two really get Mono? I guess so. I do feel justified in a way...when I was complaining to two of my girlfriends (I won't name names, but you know who you are...Laura and Leslie) about being tired all the time and feeling like crap, they told me I needed to get a hobby! Thanks, bitches! A hobby? Like chasing my 2 year old doesn't keep me busy! Oh but that's different they said...I needed something for me, something exciting, something away from the kids. How 'bout looking for new friends? Does that count? They did at least give me the understanding about the 2 year old...mine is a bit on the crazy side...think "Parenthood" movie with the kid with the bucket on his head!
Anyway, I'm feeling better. Trying to rest, drinking water....oh yeah, I forgot to mention my kidney stone! That was last week! Fun times! 14 hours of labor and not much to show for it except one good final pee!
Then with all the ice and snow and crazy people going the wrong way down one way streets I got hit...my car that is got hit. No real damage....scared the kids. Then 2 days later I was feeling good, feeling happy, pulling out of day care parking lot (yes, I'm looking for someone else to watch the "bucket head" for a few hours a week) and I smashed into a concrete block! Nice! Major damage to the car and my neck!
On top of all this it's Christmas time.... my favorite! I want to enjoy it...walk with hubby in the snow, take the boys to Michigan Ave., take the 7 year old ice skating! The good news is is that the shopping, wrapping and hiding is DONE!!!! I'm completely done with the presents! So I guess Mono, a sinus infection (didn't want to bore you earlier with the details of that one), 2 fender benders, a sore neck, 2 bitchy friends (that I love completely and don't know what I'd do without), the stress of Christmas, and my beloved "bucket head" can't get me down! AHHH, the joy of the season....or the vicodin and scotch!

Casey Wilson Is Not Fat!

Whoever commented on my blog the other day and implied that Casey Wilson, the newest female member of SNL, was fat I'd like to talk to you and maybe smack you around a bit. Why is she fat? Because she's not a size 2 or 4 or even 6! If a girl is over a certain weight and has a "pretty face" does she move right into that category of "nice girl, pretty face, so funny!"?? I saw a commercial the other day the said Santa was "overweight"....are you kidding? He's Santa! As Mrs. Clause herself said "no one likes a skinny Santa!". But do we? Do we now what Santa to be fit? Maybe he could join a gym or do yoga...I'm sure he gets stressed! Are we really that obsessed with being thin that suddenly even the big man in the red suit needs to go on "The Biggest Loser"? So Casey Wilson is fat. Fine. Was Marilyn Monroe fat? She was a size 12! OH MY GOD!!! A size 12, you say?? No!? Thought by most during her time to be the most beautiful woman on the planet!?? Fat??? No, she was beautiful, with curves and a quality that made her people love her...not want to throw things at her, then make her a sandwich.
So for all you men out there who would never look at a woman bigger than a size 4 and who push their wives and girlfriends to work out and make them feel insecure while you stare at other women...I have nothing to say but Fuck Off! Until you grow hair on your heads, trim that other weird hair, take care of that spare tire you're fostering, and are able to give us more than 6 minutes of your finest pleasure....SHUT THE HELL UP! Oh yeah, and leave Santa alone!

Shut Up!

I sick of people complaining about SNL and how not funny it is! What? Are you some critic? Some comedy expert? First of all, no it's sometimes not funny and if you ever took an acting or improv class (yes, I have) you would know that not everything works the way its suppose to all the time. Secondly, if you are over 40 it's not meant for you anymore! Go to bed! You're old and need your sleep or watch the re-run of Front line. I'm sure our parents or young grandparents shook their heads at John Belushi and wondered how that show was still on the air! I'm just saying, until you're going to stand up and perform and put yourself out there week after week and have to deal with the haters, shut up!

Question of The Day

Is it really better to keep mouth shut and have people wonder if you're dumb, then to say what's on your mind and MAYBE sound dumb??? To me this sounds like a complete lack of confidence. I think...I (just me) think its better to say what's on your mind, to tell people what you think and maybe have them roll their eyes, disagree with you, or possibly have them think that you don't know your ass from your elbow. I will listen to someone tell me what they think and have a lively discussion 10 times over before I would want someone just to stand there and bit their tongue. What would the world be if everyone just stood there? If people didn't express their ideas, good or bad (and mind you that's all relative)...we'd still be in caves hunting and gathering!

Good and Bad

My 7 year old is sick and will spend another day home playing Nintendo and watching movies... bad, but good for the other kids at school who will hopefully avoid getting a cold. My neighbors are leaving for 5 day trip to the beach in Mexico, without their kids ...good for them, sucks for me since my husband is working all weekend and we are a few years away from being able to have tropical vacation. Talked to my ex husband yesterday, who told me the dog we shared when we were married "Buddy" was put down the day before....good for Buddy to be out of misery, sad for me to remember this dog that yes, was crazy and bit me, but when he was a puppy was sweet and a symbol of our starting life together, that which are now soon to be all gone...my ex is finally moving out of the house we owned together and leaving Chicago....which is sad for me to have someone close to me move to another state and not be able to call and go to Target or grab coffee. Bad.

Went to doctor yesterday and had mole on breast removed for biopsy....good to be on top of these things, bad to think about skin cancer and VERY BAD to need stitches in your breast! Very Very bad to have guy who is doing the stitching TREMBLING!! I laid there wondering if he'd had too much coffee or if he was simply shocked by my nice rack! KIDDING!!! But really it hurt, plus I was nervous, plus he was not filling me with confidence while I was watching his hands shake! So now, bad for me, I have stitches in my breast and its making it difficult to move around and lift 2 year old! Bad.

I also had complete blood work done...I explained to doc that I'm tired, not just tired like you didn't get enough sleep the night before, but monumentally tired. You know when you have a baby and they tell you to sleep when they sleep..? Well I still do. In my 20's I had energy to spare and since kids I feel like crap all the time. And I show it too... my skin and dark circles under my eyes just look worse all the time...bad. I fall right to sleep at 1030pm and wake up at 7am...that is plenty of sleep, more than a lot of people get and I still can't wait until 2 year old naps so I can lay down. I'm tired and cranky and always want to lay down...Bad. Much to my surprise the doc took me totally serious and listened to me whine.... she explained its totally possible I may be getting 7 hours of sleep a night, but I may not be getting to that last stage of sleep, the good stuff, the restorative kind! Anyway, she wants to rule of any medical stuff, and rule out pain or depression...which she had me take test for and I passed with flying colors! She explained there is a low dose drug that doesn't make you fall asleep, but pushes you into that good sleep so you feel like you've actually slept...Good. So again, bad that my day was filled with doc appointments, but good that I could be close to figuring this out and hopefully feel and look better soon!

Good and Bad working together.

Gone Back Home

Ms. Alaska left yesterday to fly back to home to finish up 2 more years of being Governor. Maybe it was because she was leaving or my relief that she would not be taking the post of VP, but for the first time I actually felt sorry for her. If she goes down like Dan Quayle I will really feel bad... here she was plucked from her isolated life, had never meet John McCain, and given this huge responsibility of representing the GOP. They are the ones I blame. They hid her for weeks, build up huge expectation, then put her in a 2 hour interview with Katie Couric...2 hours! Most interviews are not nearly that long! She messes up, so they fix it by putting "Daddy" next to her and treating her like she is the little girl who can't handle those big questions. I'll admit, only now, that she did well...she ignited the boring old Republicans, she held her own in the debate and she kept her head up when people all across the country were making fun of her. I know she had a following (my good friend RE included....misguided?), but those people were clearly in the minority. Most people thought she was a strange pick from the start and clearly unqualified. But to now have the aides of JM and the GOP blaming her it's crazy! They should look in the mirror. I truly believe given her ability and intelligence, she did the best she could. I believe down to my core that she is not the "new face" of the GOP....god help them.... Yes, they need one, but they need to look longer than the two minutes it took to choose Ms. Alaska.

The Day After

Well, its over! Barack Obama is now the 44th president of the USA...yes, the first African-American. It may sound corny but it was moving and I did get very emotional. I was alone, my family had long gone to sleep, but I was holding my friends sleeping 6 month old (his parents were in the VIP section of Grant Park watching history unfold). When I looked down at this baby and thought of my own sleeping babes I thought of what a new door this has opened, for all children...its the "yes, you can do that, you can do anything"...and what a new world they live it, the likes of which we as their parents haven't known. I am hopeful and optimistic....not sure how long that will last but I'm enjoying the buzz.

I'm also happy that my home state of Michigan got its head out of its ass and legalized medical marijuana....could recycling be around the corner?? They're always been a bit backwards!

Now on to Arizona, Florida, and California...its good that at least 3 states had gay marriage on their ballots, but shame on you (mostly Cali) for not seeing that gay people should be given the same rights as others. I imagine I feel like how people felt about women voting or black people sitting on the front of buses....that this is CRAZY!! Marriage is tough and anyone who feels that strongly about committing themselves to another person like that should have the same chance to do so that the rest of us do. If after 10, 15, 20 years of a solid and loving relationship you were kicked out of a hospital room, unable to care for the person you share your life with, because you didn't have a piece of paper...you'd feel it was unbelievable. That's how I feel. I have too many gay friends who are in good, loving, stable relationships....I see them together, I see them raise their kids and I think it's ludicrous that they are told "NO, not you." Arkansas passed it that if you are gay you can't adopt or become a foster parent. OMG! Are people scared or stupid or both?? Well, I fell like now that we have our first African-American president anything is possible. I'm hoping we look back and think nothing of..."like, yeah, duh, of course we do!" Maybe one day it will be the same for gay people... people who love and want to get married and raise kids and have equal rights! Oh my god, are we still fighting for "equal rights"??? That's sad to me.

Ms. Alaskas New Clothes

I'm over it...I don't care anymore! Is it sexist? Maybe a little...I mean besides Edwards hair, have we really talked about a candidates appearance so much? And come on, be realistic...they (GOP) had to clean her up a bit! I mean "Walmart-Hockey Mom" sounds good, but does it look so good? NO! I'm glad they bought her new clothes. Its PR, plain and simple. BUT, I do think they could have toned it down a bit... I mean we're in this horrible economy, and people are losing their homes and she's parading around in Valentino! If you're in politics and running for office, any office, shouldn't you dress the part? They say that for job interviews..."dress for the job you're trying to get"....isn't a campaign just one long interview. So what does a VP dress like? Well, if you're from"main street" and you are a "simple hockey mom" and I would imagine you're trying to get people to relate to you.... did they go too far? Or is this the "diva" coming out? Is she trying to give the women of American something to aspire to? "After a brief stint at local government I too can be plucked from my simple existence and be put in fancy clothes and be on TV everyday!" I can hear the reality show producers now....."let's take a hockey mom with a terrible accent, dress her up in fancy clothes and put her in a job she can't do and make it funny!" It's like a cross between "Extreme Makeover", "What Not To Wear", and "Big Brother" (only because she sounds dumb, like the people on that show)....But if this is a reality show, I hope we are being "Punk'ed" and she gets kicked off the island!

High School Musical 3

Three of my friends and I took our kids to see "High School Musical 3 Senior Year" this morning. We thought with all the hype is would be best to buy tickets in advance to avoid the lines... So 2 weeks agao I ordered 10 tickets via www.Fandango.com We chose a time that would not only serve our busy schedules but hopefully be a less popular time.... I had visions of sitting in a crowded theatre with a 100 screaming kids, like a modern day "Rocky Horror, but without the drugs...anyway I wanted kids to be able to see be able to sit together.... We also decided it would be best to get there 1/2 an hour before the movie started to aquire good seats and ample popcorn and beverages.... again, I hate lines and was remembering with my hubby and I went to see "The Dark Knight" *(see review in earlier post)...and the crowd was so bad we ended up feeling lucky to get seats together, and our necks were stiff for days due to the angle and closeness of our seats! I thought with 7&8 year olds we need to make this as easy as we can....
OUr kids all wanted to go opening weekend and being good Moms that we are we were going to make this happen for them, but on our terms... the only thing missing were the Bloody Marys!
Well we all got to the theatre at the same time to find NO ONE ELSE THERE! We were the first ones there and for a moment felt like we were being "Punk'ed".... had everyone else lost interest in HSM??? Could it be?? More people came and our kids had fun.... so did we!

#11

If I could add one more thing to my advice to young women it would be to learn to watch and like football. During my first marriage...yes, I broke my own rule (most of them actually) and married at 23... anyway, I learned to watch football. One Sunday I decided to give it a chance and I fell in love. So now anytime I hear women say "I just don't get it! It's so boring, it's all start and stop"... I smile and tell them to give it a chance....learn to see the strategy and the skill...watch how a QB will use the clock and one play can turn the whole game around....
Anyway, just do it.

Advice

My advice to young women....

#1 Wear sunscreen.... ALWAYS even in the shade. Nothing ages you worse than sun. The days of "laying out" are long over. Use the baby oil for other things.

#2 Never smoke. Again, the aging is shocking and your skin will look gray over time. Also, there's almost nothing less feminine.

#3 Marry for love not money. Money is great...but love lasts real love lasts forever. Money might get you make the hard times easier, but it won't hold your hand and tell you everything is going to be OK. It won't sit by you when you're sick and love you when your wrong or make a mistake. It won't be a good partner and walk through life with you.

#4 Don't get so drunk that you're sloppy! I really wish I could video (do we still call it video?) girls when they're drunk on the curb, smoking with mascara running down their faces...they should see it the next day and I'll bet they'd never drink too much again.

#5 Never let a man yell at you with a pointed finger...it only gets worse. If you stay long enough and he swears and throws things....the hitting will be next. And never be ashamed to tell anyone...I'll bet you could walk up to any older (35's & up) woman and she'd tell you she did or almost did go through the same thing. And guaranteed she'll offer to help you.

#6 Love your body no matter what size you are. It's going to age with time and child baring...so love it and show it off.

#7 Be nice to older (again, 35+) women...you may be young and hot now, but soon too soon you will be there and look back and remember the body, skin, and beauty that you had and you may have a hard time em brassing the changes.

#8 Stay away from the "Mommas Boys".... RUN RUN RUN!! If Mom still shops for him, if she has key to his apartment, if she decorated his house, if she drops by, if he needs to spend time with her without you. If he is only child and she has no husband...RUN FASTER THAN YOU'VE EVER RUN BEFORE! He is man in her life! She needs him, she depends on him, and he will always feel sorry for her and when you've made plans he will have to go to her house to fix something. Now, I have boys and I would love if they lived close and were able to come by, but I will raise them like my Mother-In-Law raised my husband...that his wife and kids come first. I am so grateful to her for this.

#9 Learn to cook. There are a bunch of good reasons for this that I won't bore you with...just do it.

#10 Before you get married (and please don't before you're 30) have $10,000 saved and in a private account...keep it there and never tell him about it. Trust me.

Vote

What is the percentage that you have to love one candidate over the other in order to vote for that person? Well, I'm voting Obama/Biden. Are they the answer? NO. Are they perfect? NO. None of them are. At different points I've wanted to smack each of them in the face. So to the people who say you can't just vote for the "lesser or two evils"... you have to really believe %100 in who you're voting for... you're wrong (in my little book). I think more people do that than we think... and why not? We only have the two choices. We can't just not vote, then complain. We have this new playground at the park near our house... and some of the neighbors made a group and raised money and helped plan for it. When it was all done some people bitched that it wasn't good enough, big enough, etc. My friend RE told me that those were the same people who never helped raise the money or bought a brick, or helped plan....so they have no business complaining. I see this as the same as not voting.... I think if you're not going to at least vote, to not at least get involved, you should shut up later. No whining, no joking, no complaining...for 4 years! Wouldn't that be great! There would be some people really biting their tongues!

Sunday

All in all my football (yes, it's mine) season is going pretty well... I don't have to hear about Brady, Romo is hurt and Jessica doesn't come to any games, Farve is settled in and doing fine even though lost yesterday and I'm over the haters, the Bears won with great score and the Packers won and look good! The Cubs getting swept went right by me... I'd never let my hopes get too high. I hate hockey and I can't stand basketball...so football (NFL) is all I have... I like college, but USC always seems to win, I'm too scared to cheer for Michigan because my Ohio State loving neighbors would kill me, so I keep it on the DL, but I do smile and think of my Grandpa (who played for U of M in the 20's) when they win. I dress the kids up for the Navy games...again, a family connection- my father-in-law went to Naval Academy and was starter for football team. If only I could come up with a ledgit reason for loving the Packers!

Change?

Wouldn't it be great to avoid the things we didn't want to face.... I'm sure a lot of people do, but some things we can't. My husband teases me for watching sad or depressing news shows or stories... but I feel like I'm learning about something that's yes very difficult to see or know about, but it also makes me want to fix things or change things and get the word out if I can.
When I hear about children suffering I want to run, scream and turn away...but I can't. I watch or keep reading, like a sick fascinating thing you can't take your eyes off of. I feel like just because it's on the TV or in print doesn't mean its not real or not really happening right now. If we saw suffering or abuse right in front of us we'd step in and stop it, right? So why turn away because its on the news?
My question is how do we stop it...the abuse I mean. The children being raped or molested.... most times by people they know and most times by their own PARENTS! How do we stop them? How do we stop these people? How do we stop them from trading their videos and pictures over the Internet? Have you heard on "on demand rape"? Do you know that there are "how to" manuals floating around? Sick enough? Is writing to our Senators enough? How about making t-shirts and matching up to Washington? I'm sad and feeling this "change" and "real change" we keep hearing about will never come and is pure bullshit. You won't see Chris Hansen from Dateline catching the people who rape babies or toddlers, but that doesn't mean it's not happening... and the "fathers" who do this late at night when their wives are asleep should be hung up by their dicks and set on fire. I'm mad. I'm angry. I'm pissed off that these "men" who lead these secret, double, disgusting lives are on the street and next to us at school pick up and church and at the grocery. I hate them and what they do. How do we evoke change? Not them. Not the men (or woman) who want to win...who promise change and fail...who say the word in hopes that will excited us, but have their own agendas in mind....
Ideas? My own anger and sadness is getting me today...

Pecking Order

I am not trying to ask some big social question, but do we follow pecking orders? Either in business or family or friends? I guess I'm naive thinking its possible that we don't. I find it interesting that some people not only feel them and follow the "rules" of them, but really spread their wings and want to enjoy the benefits they feel they are owed. Like, I am married to a man who is the youngest of 6... his siblings all have spouses and a few years ago I did hear it mentioned (not so subtly) from one of the older siblings spouses, during a family trip, that they felt they had something more to say or contribute due to the fact that they would one day be the patriarchs/matriarchs of the family! Like we're Italian or something! So because they are the oldest couple of all the kids, they will soon be running the family? I've also seen this happen in the business my hubby is in... my husbands old bosses wife treated me like crap and would steamroll right over me! I always got this vibe that she figured because she was the bosses wife, she was ahead if me in some order of seniority. I treat the wives of the guys who work for my husband with respect and if anything I am kind and motherly to them because I've been in their shoes and know what its like to have a cook for a husband and live with those hours and the stress and the no money. I see things like this a lot waiting tables... you see many other interesting things too...but the pecking order shows itself when you present the wine list and the check and whose order you take first. Working in a fine dining restaurant you as the waiter must consider these things and quickly figure out the dynamic in order to not step on any ones toes...it could also make the difference between a good tip and a great tip. But in casual social circumstances I'm seeing this more and more. At school when I drop off my son...well I won't go into that. But in that dynamic I feel like we should being "bringing along" the newer moms... and help them navigate the system and not scaring them off. I looked around recently at the clean up part of a big event and realized it was the same people there....and I thought wow are we scaring off the "newer" families? Are we making it impossible for them to feel welcome or feel like they can join in??
So is it just a reality that when I walk into a situation I am aware of the dynamic and try and know my "place"....?? I think for me, due to some social blunders in the past I need to be more careful! But it would be nice if they didn't exist and you (I) could just be myself.

I Had A Great Sunday!

I look forward to football season all year.... and come August as soon as it gets a few degrees cooler I can almost taste it! Since my two favorite teams are the Chicago Bears and Green Bay Packers, yeah yeah don't start.... anyway, it's hard sometimes to watch. After the drama of Favre in the summer and how crappy the Bears play I was looking forward to another year of me yelling (not excitedly) at the TV. Well, yesterday being the first Sunday I was geared up for the Jets, to watch Farve start with new team and the Bears for Sunday Night Football... and I was not disappointed! Farve played with his usual boyish excitment and the Jets won, and then I got the news of Tom Brady getting hurt....now let me say I don't like anyone getting hurt during the game, but I've never been a huge TB fan and my personal feeling is that guy needed to be taken down a few pegs... and anyway maybe if he's out for the season he can spend more time with his son and less time with supermodel girlfriend! Then my day was complete by watching the Bears beat the Colts...again never been a fan and it was nice to not only see the Bears win, but do it with Manning looking a bit out of it and in their fancy new stadium! So now that I had my day of good things I'm sure the rest of the season will suck.... Bears will lose, Rex will be back, they won't fire Lovey, Farve will get hurt and retire and all the haters will say how he should have done it last year or the year before, and Tom Brady will have an amazing recovery and win the Superbowl with supermodel bitch by his side.... we'll see.

Oh No Here I Go...

Why did Sarah Palin lie about selling her plane on ebay?? More than other corruption issues with political figures this one pisses me off....because it's so stupid! Why lie? Are you so needy to make yourself look good that that's all ya got? Some stupid lie about cutting the "extravagance" of the former governor and oh, to show you're so hip you sold it on ebay!! And how extravagant was it flying prisoners back and forth to Arizona 'cause your back woods state doesn't even have enough space for its 5000 (less actually) prisoners? She freaks me out...with her gun and her no gay marriage, and her no abortion! She's not breaking any glass ceilings, she's an old white guy in a skirt!

What, don't you like to blog?

That was the question from my son... who was wondering why I hadn't blogged in so long. My reply was yes, I do like the blogging. However, time in the day is a must if one is to follow through with the thoughts and "insight" it takes to blog. Not sure how much insight my blog provides, if any... but I do enjoy it. Ever since I got my "you're cancer free" phone call things have been crazy. For one thing my husband left his job, after a while of being unhappy and with my near miss of cancer things in our lives were instantly put into (corney) perspective. We realized his job sucked, we needed to focus on the kids and money is just that....money. So hubby has been off for a few weeks and I decided to go back to work and talk to adults! All in all its been fun...putting on make-up, going downtown, working with and talking to adults all night and most of all pouring wine for people again...showing people how great wine can be, teaching them new things or reconnecting them with a wine they had once and loved, but could never remember what it was! It has also reminded me that I'm good at something. Sounds silly, but with all this mothering I'd forgotten. I forgot that I was once good at something that I had passion for. It was nice to rekindle this passion (wow, corney night or what?)...anyway, it was nice to walk into a restaurant and immediately know what needed to be fixed or changed, to see where I could help and then to not only offer that help, but have my ideas and insights put to use and make people happy with the changes and have them say thank you! Wow are you kidding? I feel like I had a whole career in 3 weeks! **Must be told that it helps when your good friend is the chef/owner and trusts you to walk in and speak your mind! Thank you E!
So I'm back to being retired...returning to the not so profitable, sometimes thankless, yet wildly satisfying job of mothering! I did miss the boys sometimes and it will be nice to be back in the drivers seat of the household...Hubby did amazing job, but I'm too controlling to not be fully in charge! So if ever you're with me and I'm romanticising about working and the doubt I have struggled with comes up, that wondering if I was ever good at what I loved, please remind me... yes, yes I was and sometimes when given the chance still am.

Perfect Summer Dessert!

I get nervous baking sometimes....following the recipe just so, measuring perfectly and the possible re-figuring to cut recipe in half (math has never been strong suit), and of course there's the fact that my husband is amazing chef and baker. He has always loved the things I make and bake...he's never too critical, only a few times giving advice, carefully as to not hurt my feelings. Like the time he advised me to "cook off" the onions before adding them to my meatloaf mixture....I'd always thought my meatloaf was a specialty of mine but apparently it had too strong of an onion flavor. Oh well, I try and for the most part I'm never too afraid to try something new, though it's easier when he's not around.
So last summer I perfected the "crisp" or "crumble"....loving summer fruit but also being allergic to most of it, luckily cooking the fruit wipes out my allergy and I can enjoy the "stone" fruit that summer brings us.
So a crisp or crumble is perfect...it's easy and you really don't have to follow a recipe, my favorite way of cooking...you just combine to taste!

I have a small 'Emile Henry' baking dish that perfectly serves 2-6 people (2 pigs or 6 polite portions)

For Topping:
1/2 cup Flour
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup oats
cinnamon
Mix up
Add cold but not chilled butter, work into dry mixture. (You can "cut" with pastry cutter, but I use my fingers).
Then add teaspoon vanilla.

Mixture should be clumpy, not sticky. Should smell like oatmeal cookie.

Cut up fruit in bowl. You can use anything you like...today I made peaches and blueberries.
Add 1/2 Tablespoon corn starch...to thicken juices.

Put fruit in lightly buttered baking dish, then completely cover with crumble mixture.

Bake at 425 for 20 minutes. I always start on high rack then after 10 minutes move to lower rack.

Cool and Enjoy! You could always add vanilla ice cream or fresh cream!

Foot Loose and Cancer free!

Well, it's been a waiting game of sorts around here. After what I thought would be a routine exam (the girlie kind), I got that dreaded call. "Undefinable cells" and more! Oh my... the joy, the rapture! I went in last Tuesday for a biopsy and wow, was that unpleasant to say the least. The instrument used to "obtain" the sample was so long and frightening looking, is was like "Edward Scissorhands" was performing the procedure....I'll leave it at that.
Anyway 8/8/08 (I'm not Chinese or believe in the luck of that number, but what the hell) brought me the good news that the biopsy was clear and cervical cancer is not in my immediate future!!!
So, for those of you who sent their prayers, I thank you.
I wish I could say I have a new appreciation for my health and will take better care of myself...but all I can say is, I'll try. I'll never be like some who run and eat right and don't drink or stay up late. I will still wake to coffee and close the day with a glass of wine.... I will never run a marathon, or around the block for that matter. But yes, I will try...Husband yes, I will try hard. On that note of my husband, I want to just go on record and say I have the best, most amazing husband in the entire world...he loves me (not easy)...he is beautiful and talented and brave and sweet and when I walk in the room, any room, he looks up and smiles this smile that makes me feel loved down to my soul. I love you F.... you are my whole world.
So today was a good day...

Mom's Cocktail

While spending a pleasant weekend with my kids at my Mothers house I asked her for some "advil" for a headache I felt coming on. My Mother always used to keep aspirin in that narrow cupboard next to the sink...isn't that where everyone keeps it? She returned from new location with two bottles...one travel size Advil and one store brand that she already had open....to be quick and easy, since the kids where waiting not so patiently to go swimming, I grabbed the open bottle at popped 3 pills. Well 2 hours later and the room was spinning and I felt like I was going to vomit or pass out. Turns out Mom likes to travel with "Musinex" and had thrown a random cocktail of pills in bottle. I don't do well with any decongestants so taking 3x the dose was really making things fun! After hours of moaning, crying, seeing dead dogs, throwing up, twitching, drinking lots of water, and spending hours on the bathroom floor...I fianlly felt well enough to drive home and pass out in my own bed for a day until I finally felt like I'd gotten off the roller coaster.
Well, the point of my story is you never know when your Mom will exact revenge for the things you put her through.....Just kidding. Really I blame myself for not looking more closely at the pills and not being so quick to pop! So, Mom...I'm not mad, infact I love you! Just watch your back at my house!

High School Revisited

A "mom friend" I like a whole lot and I were talking this morning on the phone, her daughter and my son have been in the same class together going on four years...we are in a circle of moms who are true friends and not just because our kids go to school together, but this woman and I have a "vault" relationship....meaning? well, meaning that we talk and bitch about the other moms from school and it's in the "vault". You know, "her hair is ridulous", "have you seen the ass on that one", "her husband hit on me again", and the ever popular " she needs new drapes" (no hidden meaning, the woman really needs new drapes!).
This mornings conversation was about how women our age may be grown with husbands and kids, but we are still high schoolers at heart... the gossip, the cliques, the hurt feelings. How when you grow up you think "ahhhh, I'm all grown up, the hard part of making friends is over and now everyone will like me and I will get along with everyone I meet". Well, no stupid! That's not true at all. Not everyone likes me and for sure I do not get along with everyone I meet. People, especially women, are going to like other women based attraction (not always sexual, but you never know), they naturally gravitate towards women they either have the most in common with or feel the could forge a strong, lasting relationship with...hence, they do the same things with women that they (we) do with men. There are also those bitches who befriend you only because of what you can do for them...oh wait, we (women) do that with men too. My son goes to school in a "fancy" area, where the people who live and go to school around there make a lot more money than we make and have fancy homes and fancy vacation homes and fancy boats and fancy handbags and go on fancy vacations and have fancy...well, you get it. I was intimidated the first year we went there and as a good friend had explained to me once, why would I want my kid to come home from a friends house one day and ask "why don't we have that??". And I will say I've met some serious bitches who scare the hell out of me...but as my favorite mother-in-law (true, I do only have the one) reminds me that I have "big shoulders"... and yes, I went in for a while with my dukes up, ready for a fight. But when I put them down and opened up to the fact that these are just women.... women caring for their kids, women who worry about their lives and their kids and their husbands and the school and their work and their homes and the world...I realized that we have more in common than not and since letting the gloves come off I have made some really great friendships that I hope to have long after our kids don't go to school together.
In my life I've made friends and lost friends and made huge mistakes with friends, and held on to friends long after I thought I would. For a long time I was trying to turn everyone I met into a best friend...looking for that level of intimacy I thought was missing. What I've grown to realize and learned from a friend (one I made some mistakes with) is that you can have different levels of intimacy with different friends...you can have "kitchen friends"; the people who could hang out with and have a glass of wine and talk and laugh, then you can have the "bedroom friends"; the ones you share private thoughts, fears and secrets with...the ones you could hang out on your bed with and talk for hours and be vunerable with.
I think the trick is to enjoy each relationship and the different level it's on, have little to no expections, and when intimidated and insecure put the dukes down and be yourself.... and if they still don't like you, fuck 'em.

Movie Review

I never buy into the hype of something.... the new thing, the hot thing, the thing everyone has.... If everyone has it, I don't want it. Unless it's actually great and fills a need... my friend D and I were the last moms on the planet to buy our kids "Crocs"... and they're actually great. But this thing is bigger than weird rubber shoes made in China....
Now when I heard that the opening weekend sales for "The Dark Knight" were breaking records I didn't think much of it...I mean "Batman"; fun, entertaining and has cult following and face it, who couldn't use a little summer blockbuster?! Then, there was talk of how amazing Heath Ledger was in the film and there was "Oscar buzz"...Oscar buzz? in July? from a "Batman" movie? Now I'll admit, I'm a terrible person for what I'm about to say, but the thought that went through my head was "Oh sure people love the dead ones!" Why do we glamorize and romanticize people after they've gone? I mean sure, "Brokeback Mountian" was good and he was good, but "Oscar buzz" for playing the "Joker"?? Well, yes yes yes and yes again. I'm no expect, or critic, or movie buff, but YES! Oh my gosh was he amazing... I dare say among that amazing cast he stole the show for me. I was completely wrapped up in the movie and watching the "Joker", that I totally and utterly forgot that that was Heath Ledger and he was gone. When I suddenly realized it in the middle of the movie, I actually welled up with emotion, thinking how? how could this be? Someone who can do this...this incredible performance, who is so skilled and maybe didn't know it or believe it, someone who made me walk away feeling like I'll never be that good at anything, someone who is (was) young and talented as hell kill himself? I'll never understand suicide~ and for those who know me, know I have first hand experience.
So buy buy buy into the hype... pre-order your tickets, go early, get some popcorn and sit back and enjoy this great summer movie with stunning cast (love love love Gary Oldman) and amazing performances.

Fear of The Unknown

I hate the unknown, the not knowing, not knowing when who what where...where you're going in life or just down the street. You know when you miss your exit and have a drive to the next one and maybe the next one isn't for a while.... Hate it! Now I have an excellent sence of direction and yet still, Hate it!
I put the kids in the car this morning not knowing where we were going or when we would be back or what we would do when we arrived at this yet to be determined place. It felt good, but when you travel with kids (no matter the age) there's fear...fear of yelling, crying, fighting, peeing, throwing up, "are we there yet" , or in this case "where are we going?". I'm happy because not only did I get all those things (minus throwing up), I made it fun, an adventure...fully wanting my kids to love the unknown as I have not. Finally after traveling north up the Edens I said "how about Lake Geneva?"... 6 year old was thrilled, fully remembering when we were there before and what fun we'd had. I thought maybe a walk around, maybe some icecream and hit the arcade for a while.... 6 year olds new love.
When we got there it was beautiful, clear skies, no humidity and lots of people. Again, I had no plans and the fear of what could happen was starting to come back. After kids took one look at the beach they knew what they wanted to do....now I hadn't expected a beach day; I had no suits, towels, etc. Now in these situations when your kids are asking for something that's so easy to say no to... i.e. no coat in winter, no money for the icecream man (when 6 year old was little I told him the bells ringing on the icecream truck meant he was out of icecream for the day~yes, I know terrible!) ...I mean how could I say yes to the beach? We were not prepared, there'd been no planning, no thought, no safety net laid....all the things that make people with my particular condition feel much better. How would we clean off all that sand??!!
Now there was a charge of $3 to get into the beach... and of course I had no cash, I'm WAY to dependant on the bank card lately and most times you're ok but other times you need the real thing! No ATM's in sight so we walk, we walk and we walk to the point of me thinking "why are we here and what the F are we doing?"... no suits, no water, no cash, no clue! Well, those beach towns know you're coming...there's a store 20 yards away to buy suits, towels, everything you'd need. So in a snap my brain makes it so easy...I let go. I let go of fear and the unknown and thoughts of the sand deep in my car and wet kids who would surely be tired and super crankey on the way home....it was so easy! The decision was so clear!
So let's see... drive with yelling, fighting, peeing, questioning kids, then the walking in the heat through the tourist trap of Lake Geneva, bought suit for 2 year old $19.99, bought suit for me $49.99 (6 year old opted to wear his shorts and drove home half naked), bought towel $12.99, goggles for 6 year old (was going to buy him some anyway this week) $9.99, beach fee $3.00, waters and chips $4.99, tolls $5.00 ($2.50 of which I have to go now and pay online-love open road tolling and the 7 days you have to pay!), gas $37.60, lunch at beach $15.00. So day of no planning, no safety net, let's push your fear to the limit: $158.55 WOW!!!
Now, having 6 year old tell me when we got back in car, "hey Mom, that was great! We didn't know where we were going and then we came here and we had no suits or anything and you made it happen! Thank you!": Priceless!!
So carefree day with no plan turns into expensive as hell day, where some good old fashioned planning would have saved us at least the cost of suits and towel. But, you can't put a price tag on having your kid thank you like that! What is better? Nothing for me.... to have kids think I'm cool and slowly wear away at my fear and hopefully in the process build adventurous kids...!?
Fear of the unknown: Love it!

If we could all have what we want...

If we could all have what we wanted, our truest hearts desires, would life be fair? Where it was "Easy Street" for everyone and not just some. Would there be balance? Or chaos? If we were all happy, if we all had what we needed to live and love and buy and play, would there be enough? Would it be right? No death, no bills, no taxes, no criminals, no sickness, no jobs. Where would the conflict be? Where would the challenges be, you know the ones that make us better people? I can think of some challenges I'd walk right away from, give them the finger and never look back. If we had all we wanted could we still find the appreciation of the rough stuff? But hey, then again there would be no rough stuff... it would be life, sweet and easy life for all. Would we bore or tire of having what we wanted when we wanted it and with whom we wanted it with? Could we stand to wake each day and do exactly what we wanted with no thought of work.... simply go about your day....have coffee, read the paper, play with the kids (you would want to do this), plan fun outings and adventures with no thought of cost or taking time from your "real" job. Just live. Live with no bills or worries. Nothing to keep you awake at night, no boss or husbands boss to hate (especially the ones that think they're hott shit and treat people so badly that you have fantasies of running them over with your car), no sickness to worry about or the prospect of becoming sick, your kids would be happy and you could breathe easy. I guess it wouldn't work.... for a million reasons. There's reality waiting, whether we want it or not.... it's waiting and staying; like a good dog, except it's not so obedient and it will bite.
So balance and fairness? Who needs it!?

Opening Day

I feel like the last person to finally get the 8 track for their car...but here I am with my very own blog and as a fellow blogger told me, "it dosen't matter who sees it or who doesn't"...Hmm, not sure I believe that. Aren't we all wanting to be heard? Don't we all want someone to listen...even if we don't know the person doing the listening? Well, I thought it would be good to have an "outlet"...or my husband did...should I take that personally? Is he so tired of listening to me babble on and on that he's finally like "hey, get a blog! Yeah, it would be a great outlet for you!"...then secretly takes a big sigh of relief!? I think if it had been any harder to get the blog started I would have given up...wow that says something right there!

Well, no matter the route...here I am.



So when sitting down to write my first blog post I realize now, the best way to start is simply to start.....



Alittle background...I'm 37, wife of chef, mother of two boys (2 and 6), daughter, friend, sister, drinker of good wine and survivor of much (we'll get to that later)....I live in Chicago, grew up in mid-west, and love it here. I love my husband, kids, football....order may change due to season and time of day. Hmm...maybe that's it on the background for now...



So todays thoughts...well, it is beautfiul here and I'm stuck inside sneaking around house trying to keep 2 year old asleep. He almost fell asleep in car which when I saw I quickly opened all windows and turned the Racontours up way too loud....why when they fall sleep in the car does it totally fuck up their sleep for the rest of the day? He did the same thing yesterday and then wouldn't nap in afternoon...got fussy at dinner and wouldn't eat, then woke up at 5 am this morning hungry! So yeah, when I saw his eyes get heavy in the car I had no option but to keep him up using whatever force necessary...Jack White? Cruel? My feeling on sleep with kids is they HAVE TO GET IT!! My 6 year old stopped napping completely at 18 months and with no Daddy coming home (as mentioned before Daddy is chef and works nights) at 6pm for dinner, bath and let's pump the kids up before bed time...I started putting him to bed at 6 pm....and it felt good, like a shift at the factory, 12 hours on 12 hours off. We'd have "quiet time" and still do....does putting the kids in front of movie and hiding under covers in my room count? But the lack of sleep leads to behavior and eating problems and can trickle down to all things life....So when there are problems or bumps, like yesterday, I nip them... forcing the change. We are the only ones who can make the change and get out of the rut....I hear too much complaining at the playground, "when will Susie/Billy get out of this phase?"...this is the helpless sounding bullshit that makes me crazy. I want to scream at them "Susie/Billy isn't going to get out of the rut....YOU will make it happen, that's your job!!" and then in my fantasy I push over their Bugaboo (child not in it of course), steal their fancy mocha drink and walk away, all the while thinking "oh yeah, my butts smaller than yours!" Oh well, I've always said a rich fantasy life is what sometimes get you through!