Finding my silver linings...

Things to be upbeat about:

1. On Saturday, my mother and I are taking Corinne and my 2 nieces (who are also 3 years old) to see the Disney on Ice World of Fantasy show at the United Center. Yet another reason to be thankful for the opportunities that blogging brings! My wallet may be bare, but my "hobby" allows me to enjoy a magical night with 3 giggling girls.

After realizing that the second half of the show was entirely about Tinkerbell, I decided to leave the boys at home with Daddy and just take the little girls and my mom out for this fun night. Plus, the little ones will be happy with fruit chews and sippy cups instead of begging for pizza and pop and everything that the boys would be hoping for. (though, I have to admit, the United Center DOES have some good pizza....)

2. My van door ISN'T broken! We tried to get into the van this morning and the lock wouldn't fully lock or unlock, so the door couldn't open. JOY! I had to have Justin climb through the middle door with his brother and all I could picture was getting in an accident and not having that front door available to escape through. This is how my brain works...

I was thrilled, to say the least, at the thought of spending more money we don't have to fix it or just climbing around through the back door for months and months. Well, when I got home from dropping the boys off, I decided to give it one last shot. I pretended to be a locksmith and held my ear by the door, listening and praying for a tiny click of any kind... The heavens opened and I heard a click! I was able to open it by hanging through the window and using my foot as a brace and... well. Let's just say it's a good thing I'm still flexible.

I opened and shut that thing about 20 times before going inside, just to be sure...

3. Hazelnut cinnamon coffee. Sometimes you HAVE to splurge on the good stuff. (well, BETTER stuff. I still buy Folgers or whatever is on sale, but I make sure it's my favorite flavors...)

4. Knowing that I CAN make dinners from a practically bare cupboard and fridge. I mean, WOW. Last night I scraped together food to make stuffed peppers with risotto. And it was DAMN good. Tonight I think I have the makings for either Italian wedding soup (with a few minor alterations as I am out of ground beef of any kind to make meatballs) or an egg and ham casserole. I am actually cooking more Meals now that I am shopping less. (less. Heh. I said "less". I meant "Not shopping")

5. We are healthy. We are still able to heat the house. Though we are struggling, we are NOT as financially hurting as some people are. Things always CAN be worse, and I am grateful for the blessings I have.

6. You guys keep on coming back, even when I whine and cry. Thank you. I can feel the balance shifting within me as I write this. I'm not "back" yet, but I'm so much closer to being fully aware than I was just a few days ago. Thanks for holding my hand and patting my back. I really do appreciate it.

On the Inside, Looking Out....

Does realizing that you are overly emotional and sensitive make it easier to handle the tears that flow when your family sleeps?

Does the knowledge that the seasons and lack of sunshine are the root cause of your melancholy allow you to forgive yourself the worry you inflict upon your loved ones?

Read on....

Hump Day

Good things I am going to focus on today:

The freshly fallen snow from last night was light and fluffy, making it a snap to shovel. It still clings to the branches and berries, giving the illusion of a wonderland in my own backyard. AND it covered up the rabbit poop which is always a good thing...

I got Evan out the door without screaming at him once. Even though his shoe strap broke and caused a nuclear meltdown.

Patrick left me a happy face note on the counter.

I still have fresh coffee.

There are those of you on the internet that still read me even though I have only enough energy to visit a handful a day. Bless you. Your comments and visits are definitely a motivator for me.


So, on this hump day, I hope for a renewed energy and focus. I hope for a drive to get my act together again and be happy.

I am off to cuddle with Corinne and watch Madagascar (again).

Cycles and circles

I'm caught in the roundness of everything.

Seasons. Aging. Hormones. Trust. Health. Energy. Creativity. Patience.

There are very few plateaus in life. And just when you think "Aha! I've reached a goal. I can relish in what I've achieved" you look around and remember that there are no finish lines. The curve keeps on keeping on...

It really requires nerves of titanium to soldier through the downward curve of a cycle. Knowing that things WILL go back up and around and down again. And again. Over and over. Knowing the path ahead of me, and yet, not...

I truly want nothing more than to just jump forward in time, reaching the next step. The part where we are at another mock plateau, but one that is less frigid and fretful. I want to know what the answers to my questions will be. To know if my worries are valid. To relax and rejoice or to heal and hope...

Oh Please let my day get better from here....

Give me the patience to not throttle my middle child.... Only 10 more minutes till school...

Halleleujah.

I have somehow figured out a way to keep my house clean this week. I'm still not sure if I am happy about this new development... I suppose it's better than the alternative which was an oppressive weight upon my heart every time I ran for sanctuary from the clutter only to find myself enclosed within another filthy room.

The key to the clean(ish) house? No more extended weekends. No more children and husband home for the holidays. Oy... I'm sorry, but my routine flies out the window when the family is home. Laundry and dishes aren't attempted let alone completed. Also, there is no greater way to DIScourage me from working around the house than a family that is sitting down, playing games, watching tv, and just relaxing. It is a thousand times more difficult to get the desire to clean and straighten when there isn't any support.

Thrilling, I'm sure.

Still a bit bitchy today. Tends to happen when I am lacking money to spend on things I HAVE to buy. Things like, oh, FOOD. And laundry detergent. You know, frivolities like those.

Rough month. Nuff said.

On that chipper note, I have to pry Evan away from Indiana Jones and convince him to put on shoes and a coat without yelling.

SHIT. I just did. I totally screamed at him. Still am. He's whining hysterically because he can't SAaaaaaaVVVeeeee the GAaaaammmmeeeee!!! I'm Seeeeerious, Mama!!! Waaaaaaaaaah!!!!

Holy crap. This kid.

Grant me strength.

What's your definition of warm, anyway?

Anybody else having a problem uploading videos to their blogs? No? Just me?

Figures.

Well, I had a little vlog or V Log or WHATEVER it's called when you put a video up instead of using the written word and it got zapped and I am grumpy about that, in addition to other things.

So it's probably a good idea that I just sign off and say that you'll see me again when my hormones relax or the weather warms up.

You know you live in Illinois when a warming spell of 33Farenheit means you're rolling down the car window for some of that "fresh air."

I think I just need some sunshine. I am off to sit by the front window and pull myself out of this bitchy funk...

See what happens when you give a 3 year old poster paint and leave the room??? You'd think I'd KNOW better by now...

Also? WHAT THE HELL?!?! I adjusted this freaking picture a dozen times and it STILL Shows as sideways!!! And the spacing! WHAT?!? Seriously?

That's it. The internet is obviously out to get me today.

Cheers!

In your imagination, insert a picture of me with my hair done, raising a glass of wine in toast to today's inauguration. Because I forgot to take one last night and my morning hair will NOT make you feel patriotic or inspired.

Instead, I'm heading off to spend the day watching an inauguration of a president for the first time.

May the next 4 years be ones of change. May President Obama and his family weather the stress and publicity and may we all remember that ONE PERSON cannot change the world. It's up to all of us...

Drumming to the music and being moved by the moment....

At least ONE of us was a little emotional today. She was more concerned with her accessories than the fact that our nation has inaugurated the first black man to our highest office...

Good Luck, Mr. President. God Bless...

What Not to Wear - Reality Check, anyone?

I will admit that I am not a fashion-conscious person. As a child, I learned pretty quickly that you could get 1 pair of name brand jeans for the entire year or 4 pairs of off-brands that looked just as good. The idea of having to wash a fancy pair of jeans several times a week was more than laughable. My parents had both been raised in situations where money definitely didn't grow on trees. Seeing as how most of my neighbors and friends were in similar situations and clothes, those name brands and fly-by-night fashions were never held to the same lofty heights that someone raised in a city might have experienced.

I live in the Midwest, for crying out loud! The SUBURBS of the Midwest, to be even more blunt.

In the suburbs, jeans and tops are meant for wearing to the grocery store, school, washing the floor, planting flowers.

In the suburbs, our clothing must be able to withstand a jam-packed washing machine after getting finger paints and mac-n-cheese smeared on them.

In the suburbs, our clothing must be found at stores we can actually DRIVE to and afford to not only purchase but also replace in case of red wine and kool-aid stains. (though I don't recommend mixing the wine and kool-aid...)

In the suburbs, "dress clothes" is something you wear OUT, not to do your errands in. And yet, those dressy clothes need to be able to make it through goodbye hugs, frigid weather, and long car rides.

Basically: the typical* Midwest suburban woman needs a wardrobe that is sturdy, affordable and long-lasting.

It is for these reasons that shows such as What Not to Wear really burn my hair.

Let's ignore the fact that most of the time, the crew sneaks into a person's home and TAKES THEIR BELONGINGS. In my book, this is nothing more than breaking and entering with a second charge of burglary. I don't care if my mother let you in! It's not her home!! (I know that sometimes the husband or roommate or someone else who lives in the home lets them in. That's just a case of No Respect for my Privacy and boy are you going to pay the price when the cameras are gone, bucko).

Let's also ignore the fact that the cast is incredibly demeaning and cruel to a person who may have poor fashion sense because, oh, I don't know, they also have a poor self-esteem? Or they don't have $5000 sitting in an account waiting to be spent on only themselves? Perhaps they have things like bills and food and children to pay for? Perhaps they need to buy items on SALE and only 1 at a time, like the rest of the world?? Yeah, let's make fun of someone who isn't as hip and cool as we are, Stacey and Clinton! That doesn't bring me back to my junior high school memories of being teased for not needing a bra or having a weird hairdo! Not at ALL!!

(Like how I "ignored" those facts?)

Instead, let's focus on the actual shopping trip, ok?

Oh joy! The victims always so willing and gung ho to go on a shopping spree. They're always thrilled at the prospect of finding tons and tons of clothing they love. But what kills the show for me Every. Single. Time. is this:

If I don't LIVE in New York City**, and I don't normally SPEND exorbitant amounts of money on clothing for myself, the sticker shock alone would destroy any and ALL fun that a shopping spree would bring.

I don't WANT $100 jeans! I don't WANT fancy pointy-toed shoes that I can't wear to soccer practice without getting my heels stuck in the dirt! I NEED those t-shirts and jeans that I can replace if my children want me to crawl around on the floor in a tent made of sheets. I cannot sit around, refusing to play with my children because I'm worried that my outfit costs more than a week's worth of food does.

You know what I want to see, Stacey and Clinton? I want to see a show where the average person is REALLY helped. Don't bring me to a city to buy clothing that won't fit with my lifestyle. Don't have me purchase things that I have to get dry-cleaned or altered. That doesn't fit in my budget! The reason women have jeans that don't look perfect on them isn't because they can't see the difference. It's because we can't AFFORD to change the inseam/waist/hips/etc. Most of us aren't so vain or wealthy that we spend thousands of dollars on ourselves in 2 YEARS, let alone 2 days.

I would really like to see a REAL What Not To Wear challenge. I'd like to see them outfit a woman such as myself, within means that are truly fathomable. I'm talking $100 for a new wardrobe, not $100 for a new outfit. I need help finding clothing that will flatter me on a daily basis that is PRACTICAL, not ridiculous.

Just to prove that I believe it's possible to outfit a woman with very little money, I present you with my purchases from Saturday. (I had a gift card from Christmas, which is the only reason I went shopping. Hello Budget and 3 Growing Kids!)


Updated with prices even though NO ONE guessed!!

How much did these articles of clothing cost? (the pants are quite nice, actually. My butt rocks in them...)

L - R: $9, $4, $8, $19

And here the dress, shoes and necklace I got for the wedding last October..Any guesses?

Dress: $45 Necklace and matching earrings: $20, Shoes: $15 (but this was a splurge on my part. I spent WAY more than I usually do. So, a dressy outfit that looks FABULOUS
on for $80..)

A spring dress I picked up that same day for no reason other than I didn't have any dresses for casual wear... (You can't see it, but it's a really lovely material...)

Dress: $9.00

Gratuitous cute kid shots. Notice the hat that said kid is wearing. His daddy just bought it (for himself) for a steal...Hat: $5.00 Kid: Priceless

I'm not saying my clothes are quite as fashionable as the ones on the show. But? The idea is that they will last me for quite some time, didn't break the bank (at ALL) and are pieces that make sense for my lifestyle.


*Typical as in, Just Like ME.

** No offense to my NYC friends. I am sure I would stick out like a sore thumb in your neck of the woods just as much as you would in mine...

Ohhh, I'm still alive...

Still Alive. Haven't eaten any offspring... yet. Listening to Patrick playing the guitar (currently Alive by Pearl Jam. Quite the coincidence, no?).

And! The BEST PART of this weekend?? The kids still have another day off!!! All of this togetherness is truly thrilling.

Since I still have to take care of them, and they are literally SHRIEKING over a Barbie toy cooler that Evan insists is part of his Easy Bake Oven, I will leave you with these random shots of our weekend so far...

Give a 3 year old a camera, and this is what she'll reveal...

balloons from New Year's Eve.

Hmmm. I need to do something about those crumbsShe took about 10 different shots of her feet. I am still amazed that I painted her toes, seeing as how I feel about manicured feet...

After being utterly crushed that Mommy couldn't tape the arm back on his army man, he decided to have the dinosaurs battle each other over who got to eat his remains...
Living room fort. I had wanted it in the basement, but was overruled. Time played in? 32 minutes.

Thrillville on Xbox. WAAAAY too much of that game this weekend...

Some numbers to mull over...

-30 Farenheit.

2 feet of snow

1 Xbox 360

2 Xbox remotes

3 active children under the age of 10 (for 1 more month, at least!)

3 more days off of school in which to entertain 3 active children under age 10

6 loads of dirty laundry

2 phones with uncharged batteries

0 adults to talk to

7 doors that are presently being opened and shut in some door closing game

30 fingers with the potential for getting slammed in said 7 doors




Hope your weekend is as grand as mine is surely going to be!

I'm a lil askerred...

Hope I'm not jinxing my entire day by putting it in writing, but the kids, who are ALL home thanks to a windchill of -20 and some brutal ice on the roads, are.... behaving. SHHHHHH.....

I am finishing my second cup of chocolate silk coffee before I begin to assemble the winter gear required for me and my brood to brave the elements on our absolutely necessary trip to the grocery store. Heaven help me, please let them remain as happy as they are right now!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am trying to decide if having a picture of myself from 11 years ago is beneficial or detrimental to my well-being. I found what is, quite probably, the only picture of me in a bikini, while hunting for high school pictures in a box of photos. Instead, I found pictures from a trip to Hawaii in 1997 that my family and I made for my sister's wedding. Patrick and I had the unique opportunity to have this luxurious pre-honeymoon as our own wedding was a mere 3 months after my sister's (though we got engaged FIRST. Little brat had to try and upstage me. :) phhhbbbtt!!! )

So I am sitting here, positively FROZEN, remembering those warm and lazy days. Pat and I would wake up to a light tropical drizzle, and head over to the cafe across the street to have coffee and pancakes. We would spend an hour doing nothing but eat in peace with lovely conversation as the rain abated, leaving a haze of mist as the sun quickly evaporated the steamy puddles. And then? The real day would begin! We spent every day (even the wedding day!) in the ocean, snorkeling over the most gorgeous reefs... He convinced me that I would NOT have a panic attack by breathing through a tube in my mouth. Miraculously, my soon-to-be-husband taught me to control my claustrophobia enough so that I could experience some of the best days of my life.

Sigh...

Is it ridiculous of me to have this picture on my computer desk? My disaster of a computer desk, covered in wrappers, crumbs, notes from the school, and Cub Scout paraphernalia? I will never look like that again. I have aged 11 years and had 3 kids and my skin, sadly, will never be that taut again...

You know what IS ridiculous, though? That I thought I was anything but skinny in those days! I was a freaking size 4/6. I hadn't a stretch mark or dimple on my thighs. Nor a single beginning of a line on my face. And I was SURE that I wasn't very attractive in a swimsuit.

Freaking youth. It really IS wasted on the young...

If I were a man I'd be saying 16 inches instead of 12...

What are we doing today?

Well, since Mother Nature has poured about a foot of snow on our town in 24 hours (It's still snowing, too!) Corinne and I abandoned our idea of driving the country roads to playgroup and are having a fine old time sweeping and cleaning.

And she does it with such style, too...

I'm sure we've ALL faked it once or twice...

Feel pity for me as I sit in my snow-bound home with a whining 3 year old and her "sick" brother.

HA. Faker.

Evan had a hacking cough and sore throat yesterday and this morning, so I kept him home, prepared to cuddle and coddle with chicken broth and teddy bears. Thankfully, my neighbor drove Justin to school in the freshly fallen 6-12 inches we have outside our home (joy!) so I didn't have to drag all 3 out into the cold.

UNfortunately, Evan and Corinne have been beating each other senseless this morning and I have YET to hear that hacking cough that won him a "Get Out of School Free" card.

So, I am imploring you to feel so much sympathy for me that you come out of hiding and delurk in the comments. Also, my ego would be greatly boosted if you would delurk on my post over at Chicago Moms Blog. It's a feisty one, including descriptions of me throwing various objects and swearing. Pulitzer stuff, for sure...

Men really ARE from Mars....

But I had no idea it would be so evident at such a young age!

Approximately 30 minutes ago, after rushing to get everyone buckled into their seats to get them to school on time, I reached down to pull up my own seatbelt to find that the belt was so twisted within the buckle that it was stuck. As in, STUCK stuck. Like, not moving with all of my strength, stuck.

Of course, I began to swear under my breath at Patrick, the last one to drive the van and surely the culprit. There is over a foot of snow outside, we are "on time" meaning we won't be late for school if we left right then, and I can't buckle myself in??? Anyone who knows me knows that the car does NOT move until everyone is secured. And I mean it doesn't move. Not even down the driveway. I was certainly not going to risk my life, my children's MOTHER's life, just to get them to school on time.

Commence the yanking. And twisting, and pulling. Insert biting the belt, kicking the van and a whole bunch of "Damn it!" and "Shit!" (Not proud. But the language goes downhill as the stress builds, you know?)

Justin kept asking exactly what the problem was. And I kept telling him to "Please just DON'T ask! I am stressed and need to concentrate!"

"But Mommy, maybe I can help. Let me come over there..."

"NO! Don't unbuckle yourself! If I can't get it by brute strength, then you won't either. Just stay where you are!"

"But, Mommy I can help..."

"STAY!" I barked.

Finally, after 5 solid minutes of sweating in the cold, the heavens opened and the belt slid free!

"YES!!"

As I pulled down the drive, I tensely gave Justin a bit of advice,

"You know, kiddo, when a woman is having difficulties, it doesn't mean she needs help. I didn't ask for help and when you kept insisiting on helping, even after I said I had it under control, it just added to my stress. I am stronger than you and there wasn't enough room for two people to pull on the belt, anyway. Women don't always want you to step in and "fix" the problem, ok?"

"But, Mommy, I wasn't trying to help you in strength. I was trying to help you in SMARTS."

Ten. Diez. 10. One-Oh.

The thing about my kids' birthdays is that not only are they getting older, but it marks my experience level at this whole parenting gig. I mean, you'd think, after a DECADE of parenting, I'd be a bit, well, BETTER at the whole thing, you know??

I'll take credit where credit's due: I'm not a BAD parent. Bad parents don't remember to pack lunches, make sure their kids are fairly clean and have been hugged and kissed several times a day. Bad parents don't sacrifice so that their kids can play soccer, wear cool (used) clothing and have "some" of their hearts' desires. Bad parents don't make their kids redo homework, apologize when they've wronged someone, and shout "brown eyes ARE beautiful!" (over and over) to the daughter who cries for blue eyes like her mom.

Then again, I'm sure a "Good" parent wouldn't let her son wear the same socks 2 (cough3cough) days in a row just to avoid a freak-out since there aren't any other clean socks with the special double lines on the toes. A Good parent probably tries to clear the floor of toys not just because it's a fire hazard but because she values a clean home over watching the final discs of The Sopranos (oooh! We're on the final season. It's getting gooooood. Don't tell me how it ends...). Good parents don't sit at the computer for way longer than I'm willing to admit, typing about the differences between themselves and me....

So. I'm mediocre. Meh. I'm ok with that... Perfect is a bit boring, anyway. What's there to strive for when everything runs smoothly? How could I blog about PerFECtion???

~~
I DIGRESS.
~~

Holy Bat Balls. My baby is almost TEN YEARS OLD. Really? How did this little angel...

Who called me his "best fwend..."

Become this boy?

This child on the cusp of teenage years, girls, and Big Questions? That he is closer to 18 years than 18 months?

I have had quite the tear fest this morning, looking through old photo albums. Reminiscing of all that has changed (including my thighs. Dang, I was thin back then...) and all that is yet to change.

Don't know that my little heart can handle it before my second cup of coffee...

Bitch-fight at the Happiest Place on Earth...

When Mr. Lady asks, you deliver.

Comment I left on her post:

"Isn't it fun being a woman?

She had it coming. Unless one of those kids was in a wheelchair or crutches, there is NO excuse! And even then, there are handicapped spots!

I have only gone off on another mother once or twice. One time at Disney World. World of magic and love and all.. I'll have to write about that. I am very proud of that bitchfest."

Email she sent back:

"Oh god, I HAVE to hear that! Awesomeness!"

And since I adore her blog and think she's a Way Groovy Cool Chick, I will obey....

~~~~~

June 2007, Patrick and I took the kids on vacation to Orlando, to experience the joy and magic that is Disney World. You can read about it here, if you want the gory details of flying with 3 kids, dealing with a 7 year old having anger issues as a medication side effect, and needing your husband to run out at 2 am more than once. Ah... Memories.

But this post has a purpose. THIS post is all about me, me, ME. And my ability to come out of my Nicey-nice shell and actually be a BEEEyatch.

I know, I know. I am generally a nice person. I believe that ignoring a bully will stop feeding their need for attention. I believe that violence, be it physical or verbal, is never a way to solve a problem (though my kids would argue that I am less than sweet with them...). So I generally am not the person you would expect to see on Jerry Springer waggling my fingers and giving the hand to someone who has "wronged" me. It is this very fact that makes my story is so fascinating to me...

Our first day in Disney was just us and the kids. The entire family was sticky and hot. Shoot, the entire park was sticky and hot! June+Florida+popsicles = Big Gooey Expensive Mess.

I was incredibly proud of our ability to get to the parade route early. We got a perfect spot right up on the curb. I settled Patrick in with the stroller and the 2 little ones and headed off with Justin to find a treat and some more liquids. After settling on some big lollipops (because we weren't sticky enough, apparently) that didn't break my wallet, we picked our way through the now packed sidewalk area towards Daddy and the other kids.

You can imagine my surprise when I saw my husband and kids, and noticed a woman with her 2 large boys sitting on the curb in front of our stroller!

non-verbal eyebrow communication between me and Patrick went something like:

Tracey :Wha? Why is she there?

Patrick: I don't know. They just sat there...

Tracey: Why didn't you do something about it?

Patrick: Wha? Why are you twitching your eyebrows at me? Does the left one up mean something different than the right one?

Tracey: Why can't you figure out my non-verbals by now? Don't you realize that the right one up means "I'm ticked" and the left one up means "EW" and BOTH up mean "I can't believe what I'm seeing" ??

Patrick: She's still waggling her eyebrows at me. Dude. I. Am. Lost. Oooh! She bought lollipops!


Ok. Obviously our non-verbal skills needed some fine-tuning. I took it upon myself to solve this problem and calmly told the woman that our children had been waiting for the parade and wouldn't be able to see over her kids heads. She waved her hand at me and said that they were so tired and needed to sit down for a bit. That they would move in a few minutes (even though the parade was about to start). Obviously I was unaware that there wasn't another single seat anywhere on the parade route and that her children were more important than mine were...

I only paused for a moment as she began to turn back to the parade route and push her way in front of my stroller again. I KNEW that if they stayed any longer, my kids wouldn't be able to see ANYthing and that the space we had been saving for our OWN children to sit upon would be lost. Justin was beginning to lose his patience and THAT could have meant an entire day of tantrums for my family...

"Excuse me, ma'am. But my kids are tired, too. And we have been waiting here for quite some time. Please have your children move. We will not be able to see the parade unless you leave."

See? Still being polite. STILL being nice and giving the woman the benefit of the doubt that she didn't realize she was being incredibly rude.

Until she had the audacity to say that I was making a "big deal" of things. That her kids would move as soon as they had finished sitting down and then she rolled her eyes at me.

Oh yes she DID.

Something inside of me snapped. I could almost hear it...

Thousands of dollars to come on vacation. To suffer the heat and crowds. To deal with a sick baby and manage to keep everyone fairly happy for 6 straight hours and you're going to roll your eyes at me???

"Look, LADY. We have ALL been waiting here for a long time. ALL of our kids want to enjoy it and we are ALL on vacation. Your kids need to move, NOW. "

I may have sworn a bit.... Patrick might remember... But I do know that I was shaking my hand in the air to emphasize each word and that the people around me had backed off a bit. Waiting for a cat fight, no doubt. I remember the extreme rush of adrenaline I had as I let the emotions take over and set the anger free. I had put my foot down and there was no WAY I was letting that horrid woman push in front of MY family at the happiest place on Earth, Damnit!

She huffed and puffed but finally left. And I was left feeling... strange. Powerful and strong, yes. But embarrassed, angry, and amazed that I just had an argument with a STRANGER. Over where her kids were going to sit on a parade route.

Patrick just looked at me, eyebrows up and mouth open. For I do NOT do public confrontations. He and I can definitely argue, but I do not fit into that stereotype of a loud Italian woman. I am extremely emotional and usually end up crying if I get angry enough to shout at someone.

We watched the parade and it was worth it. A fun day was had by all of us, but I felt incredibly nervous all day that I would run into that woman, and have to finish what I started....


There you have it. My Disney Bitch-out.

Pay no attention to the sparkle in his eye...

My middle child...



I'm not sure if his adorable face and wise-cracking ways are a curse or a blessing. Those big brown eyes have saved his butt more than once when his story-telling and temper has gotten the best of him.


I can only imagine that he and I fight so loudly and with such passion because we are so very similar. His quick temper and stubborn nature surely don't come from his mellow daddy, that's for sure... And it's all I can do to keep myself from regressing into a foot-stomping first-grader alongside him as we butt heads and bark at each other!


Always, he needs a reason behind an action or chore.

Always, he must react with drama. Be it pain, exhaustion, joy, or love: it is to the extreme.


Always, he has a story to tell. Nothing is cut and dry. Nothing can be simple.


Always, he is independent. (Even when I don't want him to be.) He forgets that he is only 6, and will be So. Much. Fun. when he is 14....


Always, he surprises me. Be it by cleaning a room and closing my eyes to shock me (really), writing me a book, or making up a story for the little kids so that they go along with whatever activity we're trying to accomplish.


Always, he is ready to curl up in my lap.


Always, he is the most emotional of my 3, (now that Justin has matured past his executive functioning disorder). Evan is the first to cry, the first to laugh, the first to joke, the first to shout.


Always the loudest child in the bunch, he still manages to attract friends like honey for bees.


Always, I love and adore him. Even when he stomped his feet on the way out the door tonight. Even when he proclaimed that he hated Cub Scouts and I was MEAN for making him attend. Even though I have spent hours setting up meetings and activities. Even though he had a BLAST (as always) at tonight's meeting.




Lil' hard-headed stinker. Don't know where he gets it from.....

Calling all blogging superforces...

I find myself in a bit of a quandry and am relying upon you, Ultimate Blogging Forces, to help me out of this tight spot.

Justin is turning 10 this February (sob!). This is a big deal. Double digits and all... Plus, he still thinks I'm moderately cool. I had planned on capitalizing on that "coolness" factor and surprising him with a weekend trip for just the two of us (before it suddenly becomes very UNcool to spend a weekend away with dear old Mom...). The "plan" was to go up to Minnesota for white water rafting, which he and I would have LOVED. However, all the places I'm finding up there have a minimum age requirement of 12. Phhhbbbttt...

So.... I am terribly disappointed. The cost, the activity, the timing, the distance... ALL of it would have been perfect. I need your help to figure out an equally cool birthday surprise.

The basic requirements would have to be:

Cost - obviously, I cannot afford thousands of dollars for this. Or even hundreds. I need to be able to pay for it all for under $200 MAX.

Distance - the gas prices WILL go up, of this I am sure. So I need to stay within the Midwest area. Probably anywhere in Illinois, Wisconsin, Iowa, Indiana, and lower Michigan or Minnesota.

Fun factor - He and I both love being outdoors, and while our whole family enjoys it, the other two kids aren't great hikers yet. So, big hikes, mountain climbing (to a degree. No rock climbing for Justin), water activities, etc. are all ok. Even a water park is good, but we do those all the time as a family. We also love amusement parks, history, and science.

The ideas I have come up with, in the ten minutes it took me to type this as I make dinner and keep Justin from peeking over my shoulder, are:

Mammoth Cave or another big cave. That's in Tennessee, right?

Different amusement parks. I know there's one in Sandusky, OH. I don't think that drive would be too terrible...

Something about Indiana Dunes. There's an amusement park and other stuff to do there, I know. But what is a good idea to hit? How expensive is it?



HELP. Seriously. I was all hyped about rafting with my boy, and now I am feeling like a 10 day old balloon...

Debauchery. DeeeeBAUCHeriiiiieeeeee!!!!

You may be asking yourself, "Where is the New Year's Eve party update from Tracey? I adore pictures and stories about her getting totally smashed and falling down! How can she leave us for 3 days without details of drunken merriment and debauchery?"

My apologies, dear ones. My camera was in the van and the van was FREEZING. And then, the batteries were dead from the, well, FROZEN air, so it took a while to upload my photos. But the wait, it is worth it, for my photography skillz are such that you will be calling me for a studio job ASAP. Please, my email is to the right ====>

I digress. (As usual). New Year's 2008!! Whoooot! My sister and her husband threw their annual NY Eve party, even though there was an underground rumor that it had been axed due to poor attendance last year. However, all 3 sisters with overnight sitters and a family friend couple with no kids that night HAD to party somewhere.

Though I normally don't know my limit and end up not embarrassing myself so much as just feeling like absolute death the next day, this particular time? I figured it out: Drink till you're a bit buzzed, then have a SPRITE. Then, another drink a bit later. Then, another SPRITE.

I know. Genius plan. You may feel free to use it, free of charge, the next time you go boozing. But please send the linkage back to me. I could use a few new friends who think I'm cute. (I'm CUUUUTE!!) (I swear, I'm not intoxicated right now.)

I'll give you 1 guess what the drink of choice was on Wednesday night....

Still cute.

Shiny. I liked the reflection of the chandelier...

This is after only a few sips. I told you, I'm a lightweight...

Pretty colors.

Pretty, pretty colors!

Mango, pineapple, something with a "B"...

Couldn't let the green one feel left out, just because it came after the photo shoot...

After a rainbow of alcohol, we had to soak it up with SOMEthing. Bring on the fondue...
You may be wondering if all of those meats and chocolate covered marshmallows made my butt humongous. Patrick felt the need to document its state, post-gorging. And I felt the need, apparently, to share my booty with the world.

Enjoy.

Shake it.

I guess I shook it too hard, for too long. But I DID make it to 2:30. I can still party, damnit.

Drooling on my sister's pillow. Because I CAN.

A link or two...

No time to be overly excited about the computer that is FINALLY working again (thanks honey!). Just directing you to an article of mine at Root & Sprout's January issue (Teaching Perseverance in the elementary age category) and a post of mine at Chicago Moms Blog. If you need a little Tracey fix, you can find it there...

Toodles.