just another mommy blog...

Don't I WISH

2012-01-29T08:55:00.002-06:00

A good husband is a man who, upon seeing a picture of his wife in a hippie skirt and fringed vest, says "When was that taken?" and then, when you guffaw and say "College!" he then replies, "Huh, you could have said last year and I would have believed you."

Smart man.

There are worse ways to go, I suppose.

2012-01-26T09:10:00.005-06:00

So, I'm yawning and driving home from Disney on Ice last night, listening to Corinne and her friend giggle their blond heads off about, oh, everything. I couldn't help laughing at their discussions about gas and bodily functions (girls really can be just as gross as boys). And then it became a competition about everything from who had the most fun to who could yell the loudest (a tie) to who was the most tired.

"I'm sooooo tired!"
"No, I'm sooooo tired!"
"I'm more tired!"

Giggle. Giggle. Tee-hee.

"I'm so tired, I think I'll take a nap right now," I interjected at the steering wheel.

"Ok!" said the friend, "You can just scootch over and I'll drive and if a policeman pulls me over and says 'lemme see your license' I'll show him your license. And if he says 'This doesn't look like you' I'll just tell him that I've had some work done recently!"

And I died from the laughter that burst from my gut.

Right there. Death from laughing.

There are definitely worse ways to go.

Kenmore Knows

2012-01-23T19:06:00.008-06:00

Kenmore knows what we want and how we want it. I always walk away from the Kenmore Live Studio thinking that their products are absolutely awesome. This weekend at the Kenmore Blogger Summit in Chicago was no different.

Why yes. That is me with a Google YouAreHere dot on my bum. You aren't really surprised by that, are you?

Forget the fact that we got to meet people from Google (YES. Google) and listen to a fabulous speaker from Wired.com. Forget about the fact that Kenmore and Sears provided each attendee with an awesome small appliance of their choice after feeding and housing us all for the weekend (I chose a new vacuum to replace my former, slowly dying, love...). We can even forget about the amazing prizes that 2 people were given (a 50/50 stove and the most beautiful refrigerator in the world...). Kenmore also knew that we wanted to be listened to and heard.

And we were.

Our ideas, our comments, and our experiences are what matters to the company and I left that summit feeling as though we were valuable resources who were truly important .Jim, aka Busydadblog, adding one of his Lunchbox Daily drawings to the whiteboard of ideas...

I also left with a coupon code for 30% off of any regular-price Kenmore small kitchen appliances, cookware, bakeware & kitchen gadgets. Anyone can use the offer at Sears.com and Kmart.com only. It does exclude sale, clearance and major appliances and expires on 2/4/12 so use it fast! Enter the code 30KENMORE at checkout.

*Disclaimer: I was given product during this summit that Kenmore also paid for but all opinions of their products and company are my own.

What I'm Doing Right Now, Not That You Asked Or Even Care

2012-01-20T22:11:00.003-06:00

Ok. So I crawled under the drapes and screen of the swanky hotel room I'm staying in to see what kind of view I have from my room. And, shockingly enough, it's a Nice View.

Imagine that! A nice view in a fancy hotel room.

I digress.

I pulled out my camera and began to take some shots because, DUH. I'm in a hotel room by myself; what else would I do with my time?? Naturally, I had the flash on because I'm not a camera whiz. And naturally this made my eyes bug out from the reflective glare. So I'm sitting beside the window, having just flashed the entire cross-section of State and Chestnut when I look up and notice a man in the building across from mine. He is obviously disgusted by the tourist who is taking pictures of his building while she is in a HOTEL.

How do I know that he's disgusted?

Because he's shaking his head and looking directly at me.

How can I see him?

Because he has every flippin light on in his apartment.

Word to the city folk: If you don't want people to see what you're doing in your home, GET A PRIVACY SHADE. You are not living in a vacuum! We can all see what you're doing!!

Obviously, I had to stay and peep out the window a bit longer to see who else was up and about, flaunting their night life for all of the intersection to witness. Sure enough, dozens and dozens of homes were illuminated for my viewing enjoyment!

Arguing, middle-aged couple in pajamas? Check.

Little kid sitting on the kitchen counter at 10 pm? Check.

Way too many people watching tv or on the computer? Check.

I can see why one needn't ever leave the big city for vacations. The cure for boredom exists outside of every window...

When All Else Fails? Puppies!

2012-01-19T08:54:00.007-06:00

The Cure For Every Blogger's Writer's Block? Puppies!

Lots and lots of gratuitous (is that redundant?) puppy pictures!

A girl who knows how to take over a household in only a week!

Formerly known as "The Gamer's Chair." Currently known as "Penny's Territory."

Making Friends. Establishing boundaries. Realizing our dog is so freaking small that she can fit between the railings of our fence. Wondering how much rabbit fencing costs...

Ever try to take pictures of a puppy on her first experience in snow? A lot of the shots will look like this...

But it was worth nearly dropping my expensive camera in the snow to get this one shot.

And there you have it. When we breeders stop breeding, we adopt puppies, and the dogs begin to rule our blogs. You will notice one of my children in 2 of the pictures. I feel that this qualifies as ample photographic evidence that this remains a "Mommy" Blog.

*We have announced our charity of choice over at Listen To Your Mother Chicago!

Evanisms, 2011 edition

2012-01-14T16:19:00.002-06:00

"Evanisms" are the stuff that comes out of Evan's mouth that just makes us laugh and laugh (which is good because oftentimes, we were pretty close to throttling him!)

~~~

"Do you mind if I swear when we go down the first drop of the Millennium Force? It might slip out, and I don't want to get in trouble."

~~~

"Daddy, Justin had 2 girls over after homeschool club. But don't worry; it wasn't romantic. I mean, look at this, Daddy," (lifts the Dungeons and Dragons books over his head) "...does THIS look romantic to YOU?"

~~~

"You're not old, Daddy. They say that 40 is the new 20."

~~~

Moments after an incident in which his younger cousin collided with a bookshelf, resulting in lots of crying, finger pointing, and confusion. Patrick pulled a crying Evan upstairs to get his side of the story:

"Ok, Evan. Tell me everything that happened."

Evan's face scrunches up, "You mean from the minute they got here?"

Mixbook.com

2012-01-12T17:12:00.003-06:00

I know that there are many different sites available where you can create photo books and photo projects, but have you ever heard of the custom photo books by Mixbook.com? At Mixbook, you can create a completely unique and personalized photo book with results akin to an old-fashioned scrapbook. Your own style and design. Your own photos and memories captured in just the layout that you have envisioned in your mind's eye.

Sound intriguing? Go check them out! In fact, if you act before January 15, you can get 2 calendars for the price of 1!

*disclaimer: This is a compensated post, but all opinions remain my own.

Once you get past the smell, it's not THAT bad...

2012-01-11T08:36:00.006-06:00

I am sitting in the bathroom, precariously balancing my preshus laptop on my legs so that it doesn't touch the less-than-pristine walls of our 3 child bathroom. All I can say about that is "bleecchhh" and "Man, this family needs to learn how to properly clean a bathroom."

Bathroom Blogging is what you may become reduced to when you have a 4 month old puppy who believes you really and truly are her mommy. She will leap with Absolute! Joy! onto your lap when you sit on the comfy couch, regardless of whether or not said Preshus Laptop is already there.

This action will result in a gutteral shriek akin to spilling red wine on your wedding gown.

Aside from the questionable walls and collection of nearly empty hair products, the bathroom isn't such a horrible location for a home office. Running water, good lighting, and easy access to the facilities. Also, biggest bonus, the door has a LOCK. Ka-ching!

Speaking of Ka-ching, do you know how expensive gymnastics can become? Especially when your daughter is something akin to a natural athlete? And when your natural athlete has no fear of heights, new challenges or working up a sweat, did you know that she will be advanced up the ranks of gymnastics' classes quite quickly, hardly giving you time to adjust to the cost of the shorter, easier classes before you are blindly writing checks for the longer, more advanced classes?

Have I mentioned I have space on my sidebar for advertising? Interested? Please? Just look at her! She's unstoppable!

The Cutest Puppy Ever

2012-01-07T14:44:00.002-06:00

I have to say, it's the truth. Our new puppy, Penny, looks like a miniature version of Tramp from Lady and the Tramp. One ear up. One ear down...

She already knows who her mama is. I swear, this dog is a freaking GENIUS!

The kids are going crazy over having our first DOG. Everything she's doing is aDORable.

I have to agree with them. I mean, look at that EAR. That EAR. That floppy, adorable ear!

Smudge wasn't 100% convinced, though. No hatred yet. Just annoyed curiosity.

She's going to be spoiled ROTTEN.

Well, maybe not rotten. But definitely loved to pieces.

Even Justin had to admit she was pretty darn cute.

And I am overwhelmed with love for this 4-legged little girl. I can't stop smiling!

My morning, thus far

2012-01-06T09:07:00.004-06:00

"EvAN! Stop it!"

"YOU stop!"

"No! YOU!"

insert much whining and screaming followed by a thud and a smack and then much louder screaming, culminating in the final trump card of,

"Mommmyyyyy!!!! He HIT me!"

"She kicked me, first!"

Damnit. I was trying my best to remain hidden up here in my cave. I even left the lights off and am sitting beside the bed, out of the line of sight from the door; hoping to retain this solitude a tiny bit longer.

I saved my email and began to get up only to notice that the screaming had stopped. This can mean several options:

a. they've moved on from the argument and are ignoring each other.
b. they've moved on from the argument and are playing again.
c. they're still arguing, but have each other around the neck and can no longer utter any sounds
d. everyone is unconscious.

Seeing how it's a 50/50 chance of a Learning Lesson outcome, I remain upstairs and cross my fingers that I can squeeze 20 more minutes out of this shadowy, vacant room. I type away furiously, hoping to write Something Worthwhile and am treated to another conversation, drifting up the staircase:

"Hey Evan! Wanna do this look and search book with me?"

"Sure!"

Seriously? They're seriously past whatever situation was so infuriating just 3 minutes ago that they're now all hunky-dory, best-buddies just eating microwave sausage and looking and searching together?!?

How do kids do this? I wish I wish I wish that adults had the ability to forgive and forget so easily.

Then again, they were nearly killing each other over the RIGHT to open a box of sausage BY THEMSELVES, so maybe adoring the simplicity of a child isn't without its faults?

"No!"

"YES!"

"It's MY turn!"

"I saw it FIRST!!"

Ah. The cycle continues.

Happy Times, my dears. Happy, happy times...

I love Facebook chatting with my 12 year old...

2012-01-05T07:35:00.002-06:00

Click on the pics to make them bigger because I personally feel this is too good to miss...

And they call it, puppy looooovvveee....

2012-01-04T18:36:00.007-06:00

My apologies, in advance. If you are not a dog person, then you may want to click "unsubscribe" on your feed readers right now, for I fear that this blog will either suffer from :

a: neglect or

b: inundation of puppy pictures.

Which do you prefer? To never hear from me again because my children are no where near as exciting as a new little ball of fur will be or to have to indulge my gushing and fawning over a 4-legged canine? For I know that I have become what I always feared would happen once my children were past the baby stages; once we finally brought a dog into our home to compensate for the lack of neediness that an infant or toddler requires...

I have become a Dog Freak.

You know the type: the people who talk about their dogs as though they are actual members of the family. The people who spend 15 minutes reading the ingredients on the backs of all of the puppy food bags, just to be sure that their own precious ball of fur is getting the best of the best. The people who honestly believe that other people are just as interested in their DOG as they would be in a HUMAN CHILD.

I'm SORRY! I have gone over to the dark side, and she's not even in our home yet!

Alas. I cannot resist. I MUST gush! If I can no longer procreate to find blog fodder, then I will gush about this puppy which is occupying my mind just as much as my impending pregnancies did. I AM OBSESSING. It is not pretty.

But my floppy, furry, goofy little puppy is pretty damn cute. And when she comes home on Saturday, you're all going to fall in love with her, too.

Just you wait and see.

(Dude. I just yelled out "Stop running through the house with a pickle on a fork!" I guess my kids aren't so dull after all?)

Cherish is the Word

2011-12-31T18:53:00.011-06:00

It's the end of 2011!! Patrick and I spent the day at Legoland Discovery Center in Schaumburg with Evan and Corinne (while Justin was with friends doing Older Kid Stuff). There was a balloon drop and sparkling apple juice and way more of the under-10 crowd than I've ever been surrounded by on a New Year's Eve before. And it was fun.

Something about New Year's makes people want to make resolutions...

...to promise themselves that next year will be different. Next year will be BETTER...

In 2012, I promise to spend more time with my family.

I know, I know; I spend nearly ALL of my time with my family, so how is it possible for me to spend MORE time with them, right? Well, you'd be surprised how easy it can be for our family to separate into different rooms, doing different activities, moving in different circles and pathways. I want to be spending "time" with them; not moving through time with them nearby.

Time is the most valuable asset we own, and we spend it every second of every day. It's the one asset we cannot "save". I hate to think of all of the moments I've let pass me by without pausing to cherish the people that surround me.

So, in 2012, I vow to cherish my family and friends and be appreciative of the valuable time they are choosing to spend with ME.

I also vow to wear these boots more often. Patrick's eyes bug out whenever I put them on. :)

What are your resolutions for the New Year? Do you believe in resolutions? Do you believe in ghosts? Do you believe that the world will end 12/21/12? Do you believe in magic, in a young girl's heart?

This post is sponsored by Trop50 which is a very tasty (I've tried it) orange juice with way less calories and sugar than regular OJ and without any artificial sweeteners. We are also privileged to have received the tickets to Legoland Discovery Center as complimentary passes. We are truly grateful!

Puppy Dreams...

2011-12-30T17:33:00.005-06:00

I have been holding out on you guys. You may have been wondering why my posts are so distracted, so meh. I mean, even MORE "meh" than usual.

What do you mean, "No"? You mean you have lives outside of reading my blog and obsessing over my comings and goings?

As if.

So, as I was saying, since you're obviously curious about why I've been so distant, I'll enlighten you.

I have been sucked into the scary world of puppy adoption.

Oh yes. We're getting a dog.

This sounds simple. It sounds incredibly simple! You call a shelter, specify size, age and general breed, and they announce that you can come over and rescue a needy puppy that they have available for practically no $ at all. You take said dog home and he/she becomes a new member of your family for the next 10-15 years. Case closed.

HA.

I forgot to enter the factors of the universe into this equation including, but not limited to: allergen requirements, size issues, shelters that don't answer phones, shelters that are just plain weird about how they approve for adoption, and to add in about 3 months of strife and pondering, just for kicks.

You would think we were trying to conceive the darn puppy ourselves!

Petfinder.org has been my website of choice for at least 6 months now. I can tell you all about all of the shelters, their requirements, exactly WHY we want a dog, how we're planning on training him/her, and that YES, we WILL agree to a home visit, if it comes down to that. (I kid you not. A home visit. For a Dog.)

Please, please, please cross any loose appendages you may have available so that we will be the chosen "parents" for the puppy we're meeting next Saturday! My heart has gotten attached to so many little faces, only to find out that they have found their homes somewhere else. (which, YAY! I'm glad they're finding homes. But I wish it was OUR home...) My children are beginning to think that we're making up the whole "we're getting a dog!" promise that we made back in APRIL...

Christmas memories....

2011-12-28T07:22:00.005-06:00

How do YOU pay for Christmas?

2011-12-27T08:24:00.020-06:00

Anybody else breathing a huge sigh of relief? I mean, I adore Christmas. I do. But it's also quite delicious to know that I have a full year to wait before we go through that kind of overload on our senses again.

There's nothing quite like the Day AFTER Christmas, either, is there? Sitting amongst the shreds of paper that never got thrown away, my children have enjoyed the many presents that were showered upon them all. So have Patrick and I, for that matter. In fact, I got to watch him practically skip out the door in his handsome new sports coat and pants. He loves new clothes. :) I suspect that today will find us all in relatively the same locations; playing new games, reading new books, drawing with new media, wearing new clothing... We spent our Christmas budget well this year!

I will say that while I am still committed to using cash for a majority of my purchases, I diligently used the American Express card that I was given. I found presents for our loved ones at different stores and used the AmEx card to purchase them. I was never turned away from a register or told that my card wasn't good somewhere. And it was much easier to carry one card than a wad of cash, but with my wad of cash, I always know how much I have left. And this tight-fisted mom likes to be in control of that spending!

However, the temptation of a purse or wallet of money is a double-edged sword. It can be wonderful to KNOW how much money you have. But it is difficult to not whittle away at that money on $5 and $10 purchases that weren't in your initial budget.

I know that this poses a problem for some people (aka, my husband). When he has a big ole pile of greens in his wallet, he has a bit of a block on how far it will actually stretch. If you tend to have a block like that, then the American Express gift card would be a truly wise choice for you.

Next Christmas, try to take your budget and invest it into the card. You will still only be able to spend what you have budgeted but there won't have a pile of presidents' faces encouraging you to pick up a pizza or extra pack of gum at the gas station. What you WILL have is a card that is usable just about everywhere and the security of knowing that if it's lost, you can report it, just like a regular credit card! Check out their site for information regarding the rules on American Express Gift Cards. Start thinking about picking them up throughout 2012 for next Christmas. You'll be so happy you started early when the stress of next Christmas doesn't involve setting aside extra money.

Disclaimer: I received 2 gift cards in exchange for a series of posts on my views about the American Express gift card and rewards program. While I did receive compensation, all views remain strictly my own.

Ho Ho Ho TO ME!

2011-12-25T10:54:00.005-06:00

Guess what I am doing?

Right now as I am typing this?

I'm writing on my new, fancy-schmancy, super-speedy laptop.

I am SOOOO out of the last century!!

Zip! Super fast!

I'm sitting on my comfy couch, not stuck in the computer corner, waiting for the dang PC to load up and drag itself through the tons of crap my kids have downloaded. I am watching the kids play their new Jenga game while Patrick makes crepes and sausage and Justin loads his new Halo map codes onto the Xbox. I might just take a picture of myself with the freaking webcam that's INSTALLED into the fancy skype-thingy-bob (I am still very technologically minded with my wordage, eh?).

This means that I can actually PARTICIPATE in social media AT the social media activities!!

I feel like a grown-up.

Heheheheh. My husband ROCKS.

Oh yeah. The kids and Pat had a good morning, too.

:)

But really? It's all about ME right now.

And peace and goodwill. That's kinda important, too.

Seriously, though; I hope you're all surrounded by people who love you as much as you love them. I hope you're smelling something delicious to eat, listening to the sounds of laughter and music, and feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for all of the blessings you have.

If you're feeling less than joyful or happy; if you're missing the ones you love or have lost; if you are hurting right now? Please know that I'm sending you love, however far away you may be.

Have a Merry Christmas, everyone. Thank you for reading my blog and sharing in my life...

The Sounds

2011-12-20T08:36:00.004-06:00

I've been privileged to listen to some fantastic sounds this year:

Finches chirping on the bird feeder outside of my kitchen window on a warm, summer morning...

My nephew's genuine belly-laugh as I raspberried his belly...

"Morning, Mommy. I love you," from the mouth of my stumbling, sleepy-eyed children, just before they begin to whine about not having ample breakfast choices...

The absolute absence of human noises in the "silence" of some of my favorite Illinois parks...

That delicious "pop" of the cork from a freshly opened bottle of good, cheap wine...

However, I believe that the most underrated but beautiful sound of this year was the metallic ring of our doorbell when my final online purchase Christmas present was delivered. Merry Christmas to ME as I am done shopping and wrapping and fully intend to just sit back and ENJOY this season!!

My heart is overwhelmed

2011-12-19T09:11:00.005-06:00

Evan is amazing. He has found his "niche". HIS activity. His space outside of the family where he feels happy and confident and welcomed. When he won a free month of martial arts this summer, he wasn't so sure he wanted to even go ONCE, let alone attend on a regular basis.

And now? Now he attends karate lessons twice a week with joy. He practices his moves and is the most respectful, confident kid on the mat (no bias). When we watched him receive his first level above white belt yesterday, his face was beaming with pride and light.
His instructor is confident that he will rank up very quickly, due to his dedication and interest. I'm just happy that he has found an activity that he adores so much. I fully believe that this child has the ability to get his black belt, someday. Without a doubt.
In other news, our first Christmas party was a success! As the grandchildren get older and bigger, the volume in my parents' house gets louder and wilder, but it's always fun when we all get together; Especially when my dad has plenty of Franzia available.
Going through my photos from yesterday has reminded me to Take More Photos! Sometimes, I take pictures for a bit, and then put the camera away to enjoy the day more fully. And then I am left feeling a bit deflated because of the lack of ample shots to browse through. I vow to be a shutterbug this Christmas. Maybe not for every holiday hereafter, but this Christmas will be amply documented!Evan's going to make a great Daddy someday... He adores babies and little kids; and they adore him!
I also vow to make sure I am IN more of these pictures! (No gray hair! Thank you Nice n Easy.)

I think I prefer braids and ponytails, thanks.

2011-12-17T06:30:00.004-06:00

"Hmmmm... de dmmmmm.... de hmmmm...." Corinne hummed a very random song while she brushed and braided my hair. She could have been reciting sports' plays for all I care, because as long as someone's messing with my hair? I'm happy.

Eventually, I noticed she had stopped braiding and arranging ponytails on my head and had started making odd parts in my locks. She'd also stopped humming and had began to talk to herself;

"A little line on the left. And now a loooong line on the right. If I just pull this piece over, I can make the line cross her whole head...."

Wait; what?

"I did it, Mommy! I made your gray hair into a stripe from the left side of your head straight across to the right side of your head!!"

I guess it's true that no beauty treatments are ever truly free.

RAN.dum.

2011-12-14T21:50:00.010-06:00

Dang. Has it been a full week again since my last post? Seriously? Well, shoot. Here's some stuff we did since last Thursday, in no particular order other than it is popping into my verrry tired brain:

~ Visited Bass Pro Shops to visit Santa and found out that the ONLY thing that my 6 year old asked him for was a "make up kit" which is the ONLY thing that Santa didn't know she wanted. Naturally. (FYI, Bass Pro Shops has a FABULOUS winter wonderland set up. Free pictures, free kids' meals, free games and crafts...)

~ Visited The Museum of Science and Industry along with about 40 bajillion other kids and their school field trips resulting in waaaaay too many children with waaaaaaay too little supervision and waaaaaay too much noise for my eldest's sensitivities. Especially since he was hungry. Never a good combination. Needless to say, it wasn't our best trip to MSI. Still, we played with our homeschooling co-op friends and the youngest 2 seemed to have a blast. Not a total bust, I guess... Exhausting? Yes.~ Fixed the damn lights on the damn tree. Again. And yet? There is still a strand that is out. It's in the back of the tree, though, so I'm pretty positive that this tree decorator is hanging up her gloves...

~ pinched my neck in a, ah, private moment with my husband. This resulted in having to move verrrry slowly for an entire day and then deal with a splitting headache this morning as a result of not moving all freaking night. Seriously, this "aging gracefully" shit is for the birds. Or it's at least for people who know how to be intimate without getting into awkward positions.*

~ Was featured in Mommypage.com. Well, that didn't really require any work, persay, I wrote that info page a long time ago. But still. I was FEATURED. It should count on lists of things accomplished. I liked to read it, mainly because I am super tan in the bio pic I sent them. Sigh... I miss sunshine.

~ Drove to Legoland! Notice I said "Drove to" Legoland and not "visited" Legoland. This is what happens when you don't visit the website and check the hours. You'll end up walking up to the doors as the doors are LOCKING. And you'll have some superbly devastated children who can only be persuaded to be Happy Little Elves once again by visiting the nearby Rainforest Cafe. Legoland is open for YOU, though! CHECK THEIR HOURS. They are all decked out for the holidays. (Or so I hear....)

~ Did my all day shopping extravaganza. It was everything I'd dreamed it would be and MORE. 6 hours of uninterrupted, child-free, shopping bliss. I say "uninterrupted" because I don't have a cell phone and couldn't be contacted every 45 minutes to see how long I'd be gone. I don't have a cell phone because I am way too cool for that.**

~ Lived it up with various other over-30 folks at a White Elephant party. Went there with some very cheesy romance novels and an unopened Security light and returned home with an extremely cool, avocado green party dish set. You'll have to see it to understand why I liked it so much that I made Patrick steal it.

~ Did the usual runs to and from karate twice, gymnastics and dance classes. Managed to not catch the cold that seems to be residing in every 9 and under's mucus membranes.

~ Answered a FEW emails, but truly, I am perpetually struggling to get on the internet thankyouverymuchJustin.

~ Was continued to be amazed at the brilliance of my children. My 6 year old who is reading Stuart Little. My 9 year old who is just ABSORBING the American Sign Language studies he's jumped right into. My 12 year old who informed me that he spent 2 hours on the computer, getting rid of some virus or something by looking for the directions on the internet. They're all freaking geniuses, and I absolutely AM bragging!

~ Smiled whenever I found a hidden message left by my daughter. I love that she uses hearts in her alphabet. It's such a sweet reminder that we're doing SOMEthing right in our raising of them...

*Don't tell the kids, though: I told them I must have hurt my neck when I was Christmas shopping for them.

**Actually, it's because I'm too lazy to pay a bill and too cheap to pay it when I REMEMBER, so my Pay As You Go phone just kind of gathers dust on my counter top...

All I've got for titles are Christmas song lyrics....

2011-12-08T18:42:00.005-06:00

Still here! I'm definitely feeling the joy of Christmas but also feeling the pressure of lots of irons in the oven, too. That is how the saying goes, right? "Irons in the oven?" I wonder how old that one is. I mean, obviously, it's from the smithy days, but really, didn't they ALWAYS have more than one iron in the oven? It seems like a bit of a waste of valuable fuel to heat a fire up to hot enough to make metal soft to just heat ONE iron at a time...

I digress.

What with all this ironing and such, I haven't felt the call of the blog very much these past few weeks. Well, that's a lie. I've FELT the call, but I've always been pretty occupied with trying to keep the upstairs hallway clear of laundry (and failing) and stressing over the idea of doing a One Day Christmas Shopping Marathon for the first time in my LIFE. It's starting to freak me out a bit. We'll see if I spend more or less in the long run. Pat's betting on less, but I'm wondering if it will mean I may make last-minute changes to "The Plan" simply because I want to make sure that everyone we love gets properly represented (yo) on Christmas. This is where shopping with cash/debit is valuable. I can't spend what I don't have, right?

Shoot, I'm just happy that the Christmas tree lights have stayed lit for an entire day seeing as how I've had to fix them not once, not twice, but THREE TIMES. It's like a festive lottery when I walk into the living room: will the tree be bright and cheerful or a darkened shadow of Christmas Yet To Come? Much swearing, a few tears and several threats of having a "lightless Christmas" were thrown about, but, thanks to my sweat and blood, we currently own a LIT and freshly cut Christmas tree (from the best tree farm in Chicagoland. Trust me. I've shopped around a LOT). The ornaments may be all jumbled from the jabbing of my arms into the branches to untangle unlit lights and the beads may be completely skewed from the shoving and pulling of said tree from the corner to the middle of the room and back again and again and again, but damnit!!! It's our tree. And the kids said it's beautiful. And we can AFFORD a tree and are privileged enough to have a family to celebrate Christmas around it with.

And that's all I could ever ask for.

Well, what do you know? I wrote a post. Heh. Completely unintentional, especially since I'm supposed to be starting my "online browsing" portion of the shopping program...

O Happy Day!

2011-12-04T06:55:00.006-06:00

Truly, it has been quite some time since I last felt such elation; such anticipation. In fact, I could probably trace the most recent incident of this extreme happiness to somewhere in the winter of 2000, when I purchased a leather coat that I still love and adore.

My friends? It was well past my time for joy...

Flannel. Is. Back.*

I KNOW!

I literally leapt out of my seat and clasped my hands together when not one but TWO TEENAGERS and an adult who works at a high school (an even BETTER fashion advisor than the teens!) confirmed this revelation in my fashion-ignorant head. How did I miss this development? Why didn't I see it coming when the 80's reared its ugly head in scrunch boots and over-sized sweaters?**I mean, it makes perfect sense NOW, in retrospect, that after the 80's big bangles and flourescent colors would come the NINETIES!

Ahhh... the 90's. A time of perfect fashion. A time of flannel shirts, body suits, jeans I understand and hand-beaded necklaces. Bring it ON!

I am so pumped for this comeback! Not only because I may just look "fashionable" for once, but also because I can now stock up on the styles that I LIKE, before they are out of style again. I totally understand why women tend to pick a style and stick with it. This whole "changing the fashion rules every 5-8 years because teenagers want to appear 'unique' and 'special' even though they're really just repeating the styles from a couple of decades ago but using different colors and fabrics so everyone completely KNOWS that the outfit you're wearing and trying to pass off as 'new' is 23 years old instead of purchased yesterday" SUCKS. I want off of this fashion wagon! I don't want to ride anymore! Just let me fill my backpack with ample Grunge-worthy clothing and I'll watch it drive off into the distance. I'll laugh from the ditch in my flannel the entire time the next generation tries to twist bell-bottoms and pedal pushers into some weird concoction made out of see-through fabric that has Wifi capabilities.

*Ok, It has come to my attention that flannel has actually been "back" for quite some time now, but I must argue that it couldn't have been really, TRULY "back" if I hadn't noticed it. I.E. I am confirming the actual START of the Flannel-Come-Back movement. Let your Grunge-wearing commence.... NOW.

**The truth is, I kinda like oversized sweaters but they really only look decent on the very tall, very thin, and very hip. I fall short (literally) on all 3 of those counts and the result is a lumpy potato with hair that is showing its grays...

The tooth that kept me up for 3 weeks...

2011-11-29T05:14:00.008-06:00

"All right, parents! It's time to come and watch!"

I looked up from my pile of purple yarn that I had been tediously hooking and looping into a scarf for Corinne. The waiting room at the community center was emptying and it was time to watch our little girls perform what they had learned in the last 2 weeks in Jazz class.

There stood my own mini-dancer; arms raised and toes pointed and face... drawn into a frown? Weird. Corinne is usually thrilled to be dancing. I tried to avoid eye contact with her, lest the drama be validated, but her brown eyes found my blue ones and she began to wail.

She raced across the room into my arms.

"What's wrong?"

"My mouth! It hurts! My mouth hurts sooo bad!!"

I looked inside and, sure enough, there wobbled the second baby tooth she'd ever cut. It wasn't quite at the "hanging on by a thread" stage but it was definitely on its way out the door. I hugged her and reassured her. Somehow, between her favorite dance teacher and I, we managed to get her back in line to finish out the dance. She was miserable, but she did her jumps and taps and spins with the most pathetic face you've ever seen. Before the final note even ended, she was back in my arms, tears pouring down her face.

I peered into her mouth once more.

"Hmmm. It really is loose, honey. Let me feel it a bit and see..." As I said this, I did what all mothers will do at least once in their parenting careers:

I tugged. And I tugged hard.

And?

And the tooth didn't come out!

But the blood sure did.

Oh my LORD, you should have seen the horror on the faces of the little girls in that room as Corinne stood there with blood oozing from her mouth! I rushed her to the bathroom where her bawling echoed off the tiled walls. We staunched the flow of blood but the agony that she felt was more difficult to contain.

"I just want this pain to END! I want it out!!! Why is this happening to ME?!?!"

Now, I am not a mean mom, no matter what my kids will tell you. I don't LIKE it when my children are in pain, but the dramatics of a 6 year old are never-ending. Hearing Corinne scream over her current "pain" isn't anything new. So my sympathy was present, but not over-effusive. I'm sure that at least one mother was appalled at how I was just patting my daughter on the back and leaving her to clean herself up in the bathroom. Giving her attention was only going to feed the beast of Tantrums.

But Corinne had a second dance class that night and, while I'm not a CRAZY penny-pincher, I AM anal about paying for a class and then not attending. Do you know how much dance classes cost?? And that tooth wasn't coming out in the bathroom. At least, not without a blood bath. This hysteria needed to be abated so that she could do her ballet class! So we hurried home, where I gave her some "medicine" (leftover baby Tylenol) and dabbed a bit of Orajel on her gums. While rubbing her gums, I gripped that tooth and YANKED. And this time? I put some meaning into it!

"Aaahhh!!! Ewwwww!!!"

"What?What? Did that hurt?"

"Did what hurt?"

I held up her bloody, itty-bitty tooth.

"Oh! My tooth! Aaahhhh!!!"

She raced to the sink, poured a glass of water and began chugging it down.

"Does it hurt that bad?"

"Noooo!! It's that gel stuff! It's SO NASTY!! I can't STAND IT!!"

Rolling my eyes, I handed her the tooth. She grinned through her tears and around the glass of water.

"How much money do you think I'll get for this one?"

"No idea, but let's get going! Your ballet class isn't over yet and you still have time to dance!"

And dance she did. The little girls were all adequately excited over her new hole in her head and I was thrilled that there wasn't any blood on her leotard.

Still digesting...

2011-11-28T15:36:00.003-06:00

Still digesting all that turkey, but we're into the full swing of Christmas over here including Lists to Be Made and checked (twice), halls to be decked (when not doing school or karate or gymnastics or dance classes...) and a marathon cookie-baking day that has filled my fridge up with about 6,835 calories.

Throw in about 300 daily emails (seriously! I am not this popular, folks...) and several inquiries for LTYM to be followed up on, and I'm feeling a bit bloated.

I need to surf the web but I have 23 minutes left to wash a crapload of dishes (yes. A CRAPload), brush my hair and get the kids off to karate. I think I need to play a game of Words with Friends first, though. Priorities, people. Priorities.

The Winner of the American Express Gift Card

2011-11-26T20:10:00.009-06:00

Person #123 is the person who, naturally, has the name of "Won." Congratulations, W! I clicked to your site and have read your story. I am touched by the strength you and your son have shown and the love that continues to be obvious in your writings. I hope that this gift card will bring a moment of joy into your life.

Happy Holidays and congratulations!

Info on Random.org from their home page...

Hey Santa? I could use a router-thingy...

2011-11-21T08:32:00.005-06:00

I have a 12-year-old.

I have 1 computer.

We don't have any Wifi or a router-thingy-job that allows you to have more than one person on the internet connection at the same time. So, if I want to go onto my lovely internet and tweetle-ee-deet or post magnificent words of inspiration on my blog, there is a 94% chance that I will need to eject someone (namely, the 12 yo) off of the internet.

I can hear the envy from each and every one of you just oozing through the cyberspace.

Typical scene in the house of JAMB:

Phone rings. It's Melisa! We need to chat about Listen To Your Mother. This requires that I be able to Google and sit in front of my screen for a bit.* Seeing as how I was already ON the phone, I used a fairly kind voice and somehow maneuvered my way onto my comfy office chair. (For the record, Melisa found all of these interactions quite amusing as her own boys are older teenagers in high school and college. For the record, Melisa? It's NOT amusing. So stop snorting.)

We chatted and Googled and fretted and planned and, when I finally hung the phone up, there was Justin at the doorway; Ready to pounce upon the computer and all of its loveliness.

I sighed and, quite selflessly, I must say, relinquished the computer to my child. But not before I had to clarify a few details with him:

"You DO realize that this is like, my JOB now, don't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, my friend and I will be co-producing and hosting a show. This is OFFICIAL work, Justin. We have deadlines to meet and people that will be counting on us. I will be needing to be online when I NEED it, not just when it's convenient for you."

Moaning and groaning at the imposition this entire conversation is having upon him,

"A show? Like, on stage? What's it about?"

"It's called Listen To Your Mother. People will read about motherhood and being a mom and..."

"No thanks."

"Wait... what?"

"No thanks, I don't want to go." (said as he stares at the shiny screen, getting sucked into the web's oblivion.)

"Um, you're going. It's not a question I'm asking of you. It's an obvious GIVEN that when your mother PUTS ON A SHOW that you ATTEND."

Huge sighs and eye rolls. He even HARRUMPHED. I kid you not.

"What day?"

"It's not until MAY, kid. Plenty of time to not think or worry about it.**"

"Aw, MAN!! It's just... It's just that we're SO BUSY. I just want ONE DAY where we aren't doing SOMEthing!"

I maturely rolled my eyes and left the room. Reasoning with a 7th grader isn't my Biggest and Best strong point. I mean, I COULD HAVE said what I was thinking which was "Listen to THIS Mother, kid: You're going and you'll be wearing clean pants, a shirt with NO 'funny' sayings on it, washed AND brushed hair and, to top it all off, I am not allowing the dreaded Flip Flops."

We'll save that conversation for a day near May. Or until he reads my blog. Whichever comes first.

*Admittedly, "a bit" can be anywhere from 5 minutes to 3 hours. I totally understand his frustration and lack of belief in my reassurances that it will only be a "little bit."

**For HIM. Me? I'll be thinking about it quite obsessively for the next 6 months, I'm sure.

How Many Days Left Till Christmas?

2011-11-19T04:29:00.015-06:00

Be sure to read allllll the way to the end for a Big SURPRISE!

This is the first year in the History of Tracey's Adulthood that I haven't had at least half of my Christmas shopping done by now. I usually pick up items through the summer and fall that I think will work out for any of my 5 nieces and nephews, 2 sisters, parents, in-laws, many grab bags, my own kids and my husband...

I? Am starting to FREAK. OUT.
Deep breaths...

I'm hoping that this unintentional procrastination will lead to a better experience, though. Like, I get all of my shopping done in 1 or 2 days, straight. It could happen, right? Right? It kinda has to happen, so it BETTER happen!

(All of this deep breathing is going to make me pass out...)

At least I know what I want to give to most of the people we love and purchase for. That is a HUGE step. And with our visit to the Chicago Toy and Game Fair today, we'll probably find many of the gifts we'll want to buy for the remaining children (and adults!). So I'm not totally freaking out. Yet. I mean, Christmas is supposed to be about giving from the heart, enjoying each other's company, and letting those you care about KNOW that you love them. All of that is practically free.

For some of the things that AREN'T free, however, I will be using an American Express card with Rewards Points. I am usually not a credit card person, only because it's never occurred to me that you can actually EARN free stuff when you use a card. It's been talked about for, oh, my entire ADULTHOOD on commercials and mailers, but I just haven't looked into it in great detail. The details are what sometimes scare this Cash User. So it'll be interesting to see how I fare and feel about swiping that bit of plastic through the swiper-thingy at checkout. I'm a bit pumped about it, actually!

American Express is currently working on a campaign to educate consumers about the benefits of shopping with purpose and doing so at small businesses. I felt like such a heel when I realized that I don't generally pay attention to whether or not I frequent small businesses. I just shop and I'll bet that most of my purchases are at large retailers. That kinda makes me bummed out. Sorry Small Businesses! I promise to use my American Express card at your locations this year! In fact, I think a small hobby shop with Dungeons & Dragons paraphernalia may be seeing me on November 26 on Small Business Saturday.

To help out even more shoppers, American Express is extending this gift card of $250 to one lucky commenter!*

It's easy to enter, but please be sure to follow all of the rules and use a different comment for each entry! Also, I MUST HAVE an email to reach you at! If I don't see an email on your comment or through your name's link, I will have no choice but to pick another winner and that would just STINK for both of us.

Mandatory Entry:

~ Tell me how you save money during the holiday season or leave a tip for us all on how you manage to stay within your budget!

~ Tweet this giveaway and link back. Up to 5 a day.

~ Write about this giveaway on Facebook and link back. 1 time a day.

~ Follow me on Twitter.

~ Subscribe to my blog.

We will pick the winner on Saturday, November 26 after 5 pm CST. If we're eating dinner, and I don't draw the name until 6 pm CST, then you have 1 extra hour to enter. Or 2, if we want to be honest on how long it can take us to eat dinner... Because that's just how I roll.

Good Luck!!

Important! I will use Random.org for the comment number to be chosen, so please be sure to write every entry on a SEPARATE COMMENT.

*No points are included.

Disclaimer: I received a $250 American Express card with 40,000 points to use during this holiday season. All views on my experience using American Express will be my own.

Comments are now closed. A winner will be announced shortly!!

If you don't see me for the next 6 months? THIS is why.

2011-11-16T06:31:00.006-06:00

I must be insane. Well, I AM definitely touched in the head, that's a given. But my insanity must have been matched with off-the-charts hormones when I excitedly threw my name (attached to Melisa's name) into the hat for considerations to host the the Listen to Your Mother show in Chicago in 2012. And Ann PICKED US. Maybe it's Ann that's touched in the head? (silly me; that's also a given).

Crazy or not, This Is Happening. And I am beyond excited and a bit overwhelmed but so thankful for the opportunity and SO THANKFUL that I am doing this with Melisa Wells. Sending you a virtual fist bump, Melisa. You rock.

What is LTYM? You really don't know? Have you been living under a rock with that guy who didn't know that Geico could save you 15% or more?

Sigh... Well, Listen to Your Mother is the very groovy* show that Ann began in her hometown of Madison, Wisconsin (go cheeseheads!) in May, 2010. It was a group of writers speaking about their moms, being a mom, yo mama, you name it. It went so well that she expanded to a few more cities in 2011 with raging success. And now, for Mother's Day 2012, LTYM will be in 10 different cities across the nation! Go Ann! She's a genuinely kind and funny person, online and IRL.

So. Hoping to see lots of you Chicagoland writers at our auditions this year. LOTS. We need good, heart-rending, hysterical-yet-meaningful, material. Also, I think Melisa and I will need lots of good, fruity-but-not-too-sweet wine to get us through the list of 437 items that will be on our checklists...

*Yeah. I said it. You gotta problem with that?

A Letter to my Eldest

2011-11-14T08:03:00.007-06:00

So you want to go to high school? Listen, Justin: I'll try to support you in whatever you decide, but consider the opportunity you have through homeschooling to develop into an adult without the pressures of The High School social mentality which (in my opinion) equals the death of individuality: at least for 4 years. If we were to poll all the adults in America, I will guarantee you that the majority of them would state that high school actually kinda sucked...

I hate to think that your confidence in yourself might be squashed before it has a chance to truly bloom. For no one and nothing can squash confidence and individuality like a couple hundred teenagers can...

Please don't get me wrong. My fear lies not in your ability to be strong against the forces of peers and their group pressures, but in the abilities of the entity that is High School to devour anything that rocks the boundaries of their definition of "acceptable."

College accepts and treasures that which is unique. In fact, it heralds it! But high school unfailingly succeeds in separating and segregating. In categorizing and labeling. Jock = popular. Techie = nerd. In high school there exists such a thing as a "social ladder" that makes me want to vomit.

There is definitely a huge value in figuring out how to defend oneself against bullies, snobbery, jeering in the hallways and getting picked on. And if you are one of the lucky ones who finds their niche in the social ladder, you might just find yourself nearer the top than the bottom, and so won't need to defend yourself at all. But do you WANT to know that there are people "below" you? Do you want to wonder if you should be a friend to someone who is considered the "most unpopular kid" in the class because of what that would do to your "standing"? Even if that kid is hysterical and kind and really, really "gets" you?

Maybe having to make that choice is what makes us stronger. But maybe having to make that choice is also what kills our ability to just LOOK at a person without judging them. To just introduce ourselves without a pre-conceived notion of their "coolness". I think that you have that ability right now. I think that you just see people as people, without wondering if they will like you or accept you. (which is exactly WHY they all DO like you and accept you!) I guarantee you that high school would make you question someone's social standing; at least once. I still hurt inside from the times that I was cruel to other kids; either from my actions against them (I wasn't a bully) or from my inactions to save them from taunting or loneliness. There are so many lonely kids in high school that could have used a friend, and I didn't befriend them out of fear of what others would think. This? This makes me cry as I type it, honey. It still hurts.

There IS no pecking order in homeschooling. We learn to learn, not to prove to some government group that knowledge has been attained long enough to pass their tests. The speed and velocity of what and how you are educated needs not be evaluated by strangers who have no emotional investment in your education.

Also?

Screw grades.
Screw tests.

I don't want you to be sucked into the vacuum of learning to pass, learning for "A's", and learning to judge based upon what is perceived instead of what you feel in your heart.

Don't think that I think that you "can't handle high school." That is absolutely not the case. Not at all. My worries are that you WILL learn to "handle" high school. That high school will "handle" and alter you beyond what I recognize as a funny, intelligent, unique individual. I worry that you seek this change because you feel as though you may be "missing out" on the High School Experience. Did you ever stop to think that by being homeschooled, you are privy to an experience that most teenagers would kill for?

Thank You

2011-11-11T11:47:00.006-06:00

Thank you.

For every man and woman who has dedicated part or all of their lives to serving in the armed forces, thank you.

Thank you to my dad, for enlisting and fighting in the Army in Vietnam. For paying the lifelong prices that that service has cost you. For the pain and medical issues you've had to endure...
Thank you to my husband, for enlisting and serving in the Navy during Desert Storm. It's men and women like you who have helped to ensure America's strength and stability.I love you both.

I hope we all remember to thank a Veteran today.

Turn down the Bass!

2011-11-07T10:05:00.004-06:00

I startled awake. Was there a man in my house? Holy Shit. I think there's a man in my house!

I check the clock. 8:04. Patrick is at work. So who the hell is in my house? I listen again.

There's Evan's high pitched boy voice, talking to the video game he's conquering.

There's Justin's bigger boy voice, slightly lower but still young, smack-talking to Evan about the beating he's taking.

Whack! Damn! There's Corinne, flip flopping in her sleep and causing physical injuries to all within her vicinity right beside me.

Rubbing my now-swollen eye, I pulled the covers to my chin (to protect myself from the potential intruder) and tilted my ear to the hallway.

There it is again! A definite, distinct Man Voice! There is a freaking MAN IN MY HOUSE! And he's talking about attacking... Soviet spies? What?

Holy shit, people. My 12 year old's voice has officially changed.

Don't blame my smile for your unhappiness

2011-11-05T11:59:00.003-05:00

I am not Suzy Sunshine. I am not perpetually cheerful. I struggle with wondering what the hell Life is all about every day but I refuse to be sucked into a hole that will only become harder to climb out of if I ignore what I have to be grateful for. I thought that this was evident?

If I write about being grateful and happy with my life it's because I force myself to appreciate the small goodnesses that surround me. Despite my own personal pile of crap (we all have a pile of crap to shovel), I want to enjoy my life! We all have the ability to recognize the little things. If you choose to not focus on the good and continually wallow in only what depresses all of us, how am I to blame?

Now excuse me, but I have some cupcakes to frost and a little girl to play with.

Living in the Present

2011-11-01T15:11:00.005-05:00

The corn is SO crispy right now. You can practically hear the stalks crunching as I type this, for the fields are being plowed at this very moment, securing corn for many cows and pigs and breweries across the midwest. Autumn always makes me feel as though we're living on the cusp of something Grand and Important...

A friend of mine spoke to me about the plans her family has for these next few years. The changes their children will be making in their studies and life styles feel so drastic and foreign. Planning for several years into the future sounds so simultaneously optimistic and stifling to me. The benefits are quite obvious, but having a set focus of distant goals often causes me to worry that we may miss a lovely side-track. Sometimes those meandering little paths are what bring the most joy in my life. Choosing a direction we'd like to travel into is a given and we do know where we're generally "heading", but there is no Set Destination for our family. I don't see as how there truly could be.

Sigh... All of this talk of the Future! It takes away from my contentment of our present. I truly don't mind discussing The Future and the What Ifs it contains, but I know from experience that Life has its own agenda and rhythm. I am not of a mind to wonder about tomorrow when today is so lovely and sweet... Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow will come and those tomorrows will bring the wonderful and the devastating as Life sees fit. All I can do is to try to cover our butts as best we can and let the rest go.

It's absolutely beautiful today. I am sending out my lovely, sweet thoughts to everyone who is struggling through the trenches of Life. I hope the balmy warm breezes of Illinois find you, lift your spirits, and take away a bit of your pain...

Halloween 2011

2011-10-31T20:19:00.005-05:00

This year we had an angel, a mummy and a sniper. I wore a Cat in the Hat hat and Patrick chose the elusive "Dad" costume. We left a bowl of candy on our doorstep with a note "please take ONE" and headed out to have fun with a couple of other families.

The girls bounced from house to house and the adults meandered on the sidewalks chatting or tossing a football in the street. No mittens were even needed because the weather was actually NICE on Halloween! Go figure. It was a little strange to walk without even knowing where the boys were. This was the first year that they REALLY went out without the adults. As in, they ran off into the night and we had no idea where they were the entire time. When we returned home to an empty house and a dark sky, we all did a double take. What is the protocol? Do we just... wait? They didn't have a set time to return or even a watch to know if they were "late". So.... What now? The dads went out and were back in a few minutes - the boys were only around the corner, emptying the last of the neighbor's buckets of candy. Our neighborhood's treat hours are EARLY (as in, ending at 6:00 PM. Can you freaking believe that?), so we had plenty of time to hit the local haunted house. Remembering the terror that Evan experienced last year, he opted to sit it out. The rest of the gang excitedly ventured into the backyard of DOOM.

And Corinne came out, sobbing and barnacled to her daddy's chest. You'd think we'd learn... You'd think we'd learn...

No photos right now because the old computer is a little grumpy and we don't want to upset her by asking for extra memory or anything trivial like that.

I MEAN my good, sweet, awesome computer... (stroking my monitor in hopes that she isn't reading my blog...)

A Wednesday morning

2011-10-26T08:36:00.003-05:00

My coffee is cooling off, again, and I wait for the sounds of my kids as they awaken at their own rates. I am, once again, grateful for this graceful beginning of our days. I struggle to remember what it was like before we homeschooled. What the mornings were. The rushing. The perpetual reminders to keep moving, keep eating, get dressed, Hurry Up!

No time for slowly waking up and stretching like cats.

Now, every day seems like a gift of Time. A gift of lessened stress. A gift that won't last forever. Like those precious days of my eldest's baby years, this stage is in full swing. We are comfortable within it and have become Good at it. This is usually the marker for a Big Change in our lives. When Life becomes comfortable, the universe likes to throw a couple of dice at you and see what happens.

So, I continue to relish these moments of easy homeschooling life. A 7th grader, a 4th grader and a kindergartener... So lovely and smooth...

Evan has just stumbled into the kitchen at 8:30 am and is reading the directions on the sausage box. The same boy who struggled to learn to read is now navigating the confusing world of microwave instructions. Yes. Microwaveable sausage. Yum.

My day has officially begun.

The coffee will have to be heated up, again.

This is my first Just Write for Heather's site... See others here.

If you can't find me, I'm probably at the gym...

2011-10-25T07:28:00.005-05:00

Last night, I had an epiphany. Or a "moment" of some sorts. Something happened in the universe or the air or my digestive system because I could easily see the future...

Yesterday, on her sixth birthday, Corinne had her first gymnastics class.

And folks? It felt... right.

After months, no, YEARS, of begging for gymnastics, we finally consented and signed her up. She is using her birthday money from Grandpa to fund most of the cost, because she's already in 2 dance classes and we have 3 children and that money tree I planted still hasn't produced more than $13 bucks. When she would plead and plead for gymnastics classes, I figured she was just being her usual go-getter-self who wants to try everything under the sun. But when my kindergartener (who totally understands the value of money and how rarely she has so much in her possession) wants to spend her entire birthday check on something? You realize that she is serious.

We were running a bit late, and I had paperwork to fill out, so the secretary walked her back into the gym. I finally eased myself onto the parents' bleachers and had to squint to find her little black leotard in the massive sea of flipping little girls.

And there she was. Stretching her legs beside the other children. Jumping on the trampoline, fingers extended. Flipping over the bars, pointing her toes. Giggling with the girls in line. And looking absolutely at home...

A feeling rushed over me. I swear to God that this has never really happened to me before, but as she raced to me at the end of class, I just knew that I would be spending large quantities of my life sitting on bleachers, cheering her on.

"How was it? Did you like it?"

Sweaty and pink-cheeked, she grinned her toothless smile and nodded. She hugged me till I nearly lost my breath and said,

"It was the Best! Day! EVER!!! When is my next class?!?"

Six

2011-10-24T10:24:00.004-05:00

I keep singing this song today...

We bought six doughnuts at Dunkin Donuts to celebrate her sixth trip around the sun...
We have six days until her party where she would like to have a rock and roll/wedding cake with tiers, flowers and sparkles, but no pink, please.

This kid. This little girl is freaking awesome. She is the one who woke up last night when I was having a bad, bad dream (complete with crying and shouting). She is the one who comforted me and, in desperation to make me feel better when stroking my head didn't work, flung herself upon me and woke me up. She is the one who convinced me that I wasn't holding a giant, poisonous snake in my hand. While all the men in the household slept completely unaware, the women gathered together and combined forces.

She is super strong and crazy sensitive. Brilliant and beautiful, fearless and curious. She amazes me every day.

Five!

Four

Three!

Two

One!

Goodness Surrounds Me

2011-10-21T06:42:00.000-05:00

I paused at the sink today.

With soap up to my elbows, I stared out my window as a brutally fierce gust of wind ripped the last of my beloved birch leaves far from my window's view.

I paused and was still and appreciated what was happening all around me:

Justin was reading at the table while not-so-silently slurping his chicken noodle soup.

Evan quietly played on the family room floor, arranging army men in an elaborate battle of Good and Evil.

Corinne had constructed a massive fort of blankets and pillows over the heating vent so that she could read with toasty warm feet.

Patrick had called; he was on his way home. We were all... happy.
Content.
Healthy.
Alive.
Whole.

Quite simply, my blessings cause my heart to seize and throat to close and eyes to tear.I love my family.

I love my life.

Not Present

2011-10-20T06:34:00.003-05:00

I feel as though I've been hijacked.

My blog.

My brain.

My computer.*

I won't say that I "Need a break" but I will say that I am feeling a little... uninspired.

I think I'm going to enjoy this pre-winter wind storm and just hunker down in my pj's today.

Again.

* Having a 12 year old who loves the computer is really starting to cramp my style.

Surprise, surprise

2011-10-17T08:35:00.006-05:00

4:45 Me, calling Patrick: Hey honey! How was lunch with your mom? Are you on your way back yet? Oh, you're on the train? Awesome. Can you let me know when you're almost home in case I need some milk? I mean, I might go out for it and not need it, but I might need it. So can you call me to let me know when you're near the store? Buh-bye.

5:10 Me, calling Patrick: Hey honey! Where are you at? Oh. On the road, still? Yeah, that makes sense, heh, heh. Um, I just wanted to remind you to call me about the milk, remember? Because I want to make sure that we have milk for dinner. The dinner that I'm making. And I'm waiting for you to be close so I can throw the noodles in the water. So, um, call me, ok? Love you! Bye.

5:35 Me, calling Patrick: Hey honey! I think I definitely need that milk. But still call me, ok? How was your time with your mom? Did you have a good time? Oh, hey, I have to go. But CALL ME, ok? Love you! Buh-bye.

5:50 Me, calling Patrick: On second thought, I don't need any milk. Just come home. Where are you? Like 10 minutes or 5 minutes or 1 minute away? I just need to know for the, um, noodles, remember? Oh? 5 minutes? Ok. I'll throw them in now, then. See you soon. Bye!

5:51 Me, stage-yelling at a room full of people: Shhhhh!!!! Shhhh!!!! SHHHHH!!!!!!

5:56 35 people shouting at the top of their lungs as Patrick walks in the front door:

Surprise!! Happy Birthday!!

I can't believe we pulled it off. Especially after all of my super-spy-phone-calls. Seeing as how he practically fell back out the door, I do believe that he was sufficiently surprised.

Happy Birthday, honey!

Make a video - it's fun, easy and free!
www.onetruemedia.com

Videography by my 12 year old. It gets shaky when he decides to hug his dad halfway through but soldier on: it gets smooth again...

A photo post because it's 3 am and frankly? My kids are gorgeous.

2011-10-12T08:55:00.006-05:00

Did you realize it's Fall?

Even though it's been about 80 degrees for the past week or so?

The colors are phenomenal, and the festivals are in full swing.

I'm getting better at that whole arm-length self-portrait avoiding-the-armpit picture, don't you think?

My favorite season. Besides winter.
And spring.
And I kinda adore summer, too...

I'm such a Midwesterner.* I can't survive within one season for too long!

Am I the only one who gets bored with one season after 3 or 4 months? What's your favorite season? Why?**

*Speaking of the Midwest, I've got two giveaways for fun outings for Chicagoland people on my review blog.

**Good Lord. I've been giving Justin too many essay prompts and now my blogging is like one huge schoolwork assignment...

It takes thick skin to be a parent to a pre-teen...

2011-10-10T16:40:00.000-05:00

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Well, you were happy a few minutes ago; what changed? We haven't even been talking or anything!"

"Noth. Ing."

I can only imagine how frustrated my mother must have been. I was 11 years old and pissed off at myself for not having enough courage to ask for the one thing that would alter my life at school. The one thing that would supposedly stop the teasing and poking and laughter. My own, personal life jacket for pre-teendom....

A Bra.

Not that I physically needed a bra. Not me. Not at 11. And there was the clincher. I didn't need it, but every other girl in class had one. As is common for Middle Schoolers, kids that have something different about them must be singled out and forced to conform.

I hated walking into my class everyday, knowing that my "friends" would surround me and feel my back to see if I was wearing a bra yet. Yep. They felt my back. No matter how I tried to angle my body in my chair, or stand at the end of lines. Somehow, throughout the day, I wouldn't be able to protect my back any longer and one of them would feel me up. The teasing and laughing and joking would then begin.

Let me tell you, I was a pretty crafty girl. I wore layers. I carried my backpack whenever possible. I even went so far as to wear a pair of my mother's pantyhose, pulled waaaaaay up and rolled into a bump so that there would appear to be a bra strap across my back. It actually worked for a little while, too! For a brief period of time in one blessed day, the teasing stopped! Until it was discovered that the "bra strap" was pantyhose and then? Then the teasing was a thousand times worse.

Why didn't I just ASK for a bra? I don't know. I had a conversation built up in my head that I would hold with my mom. I prepped myself and we were on our way to the mall and when we were there? I froze. I couldn't ask. I don't understand the reason as I know my mother would have bought me one! But I was 11 and I was scared. I tried, and tried, but the day wore on and, before I knew it, we had left the mall and were back in the car, on our way home. No bra. No end to the taunts. And a very pissed off 11 year old girl sitting beside her obviously confused mother.*

Basically, being 11 sucked. 12 was pretty horrific, too. It was confusing and messy and incredibly focused on living in The Present. Things that made me happy made me Extremely! Happy! while things that were less than great were the End of the World. Hormones careened out of control like a roller coaster in the night, and I was just along for the ride.

So, when my 12 year old wakes up, fully rested, in a house where he has a family that loves him, food to eat, and countless privileges all around him, but is still angry or disgusted with his life? I try to take a deep breath and remember that damn first bra. Yeah, this age pretty much sucks for most kids.**

And most parents.

*My poor mom. I put her through a lot of shit. I love you, Mom. Sorry.

**Don't get me wrong: there are some awesome highs to having a pre-teen. He has conversations that are actually interesting. I can count on him to be somewhat responsible and help out around the house. There is a lot of good in having a 12 year old. I have to remind myself of those good things when I am met with a harrumphing sigh and groan because I am on MY computer in the morning when he wants to play some game.

All I want is to own my own batteries. Is that asking too much?

2011-10-07T16:20:00.005-05:00

It was gorgeous today. Absolutely breathtakingly GORGEOUS. So we (I) decided to take advantage of this warm fall day and we piled into the van to head to Cantigny Park. Cantigny is a unique, private park. It was once the home of a Colonel of the 1st Division (I believe) and he has an entire collection of tanks from around the world, exotic gardens to stroll through and a really interesting military museum dedicated to the 1st Division.

The day was simply... flourescent. The orange leaves were brighter than flames. The mums positively exploded with hues from yellow to magenta. Countless oak and maple trees showered us in a constant, rainbow flow of lazily drifting leaves.

I watched my younger two race from stick to acorn to tree branch, happily swinging and throwing and climbing. Prodding my somewhat reluctant 12 year old (I just love pre-teen angst), we made our way through the tanks, reading about their histories while Evan and Corinne climbed atop them, acting out battles and scenarios of mass destruction. It was really a lovely, lovely day...

I was SO pumped to pepper this post with pictures! The colors! The beauty of their smiles against the Autumn backdrop would be positively memorable. You would be amazed, Yes, AMAZED, by my talent at capturing the impossibly precious moments we experienced.

Alas.

Alas, alas, alas... I was foiled, once again, by the Xbox controllers and their ability to use up all of my rechargeable batteries' juice. Much swearing occurred and almost a few tears. (True story.) I guess I'll just have to hope that my mind will retain these memories without the photographic evidence I desired.

Who knew the Hallmark Channel could be so inspiring?

2011-10-05T06:13:00.009-05:00

Freakin Hallmark movies at 3 am. Making me think and shit. Not about the movies, because they're like paperback trash for t.v., but about Life.

Oooohhhh!!! With a capital L and EVERYTHING.

Isn't it amazing and mortifying and chest-clutchingly incredible that the most minute decisions can alter a life's entire direction? I think back to moments where I LITERALLY turned left instead of right and changed the course of my life path, simply by bumping into someone or witnessing an event. When I chose to pick up the phone and accept a job, I was led to meeting Patrick. I once selected chili instead of a sandwich at the zoo which gave me food poisoning that led to the discovery of a massive tumor on my ovary, right as we were discussing the idea of baby #3. When I made that rash decision to begin a blog 5 years ago, "just to keep a journal", I never knew it would lead me to dozens of friends that exist not only online, but in my day to day, physical life. I wonder how the actions I am taking right this very moment will influence my tomorrow, my future, and my family's lives...

Because they are, you know. They're all important. Nothing is too small to discount. Every person we allow into our hearts or hold at a distance becomes a thread in our life's tapestry. Every moment of gratitude for the goodness we see around us, or desperate plea for mercy from the devastation we are struggling through is what fuels the events of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow... Even in death, our influence and mark remains; through the children we raise, the works we accomplish and the energy our presence has had upon the Earth.

I sit here absolutely awestruck at the enormity of the world, the insignificance that one person can seem to have upon it, and the reality that each of us is capable of immeasurable possibilities... I am so grateful to have the love that surrounds me. For my family and friends. For each of you that reaches out and brightens my day. I am content with my life but not stagnant. There are hopefully countless adventures in my future. But if today were my last in this body, I can honestly say that I have no regrets.

This is the stuff that goes through my head, night after night after night.

And now you know why I can't sleep.

Just Another Blog Post

2011-10-04T06:55:00.004-05:00

I was sighing a happy little sound of pleasure as I lowered myself into my desk chair with a steaming cup of coffee. And then, as seems lately typical, I promptly dumped the entire mug across my computer desk. Soaked everything, including the computer. Awesome.

Silving lining: I had a towel RIGHT THERE (because my kids don't like to put towels away) and was able to clean it up before any damage (besides another stain on the carpet) was done.

TAKE TWO.

Ahhhh... Coffee. In my mouth. Working its magic.

The season is most definitely Fall and I am loving every minute of it. I took Corinne on a bike ride yesterday to look at spooky houses and crunch through the leaves. She has gotten SO good at her bike riding! I cannot believe this is the same child who, a month ago, hadn't ridden her bike with its training wheels most of the summer. And now I have to force her and Evan to come inside after 1 or 2 hours of "p.e." to do math! They're clever, those two. They'll see me clearing the table, setting up the books, and they're out the door to practice their two-wheelers. They know how much I encourage them to be active. With the winter right around the corner, they need to be out of the house as much as possible NOW before the weather dictates what we cannot do.

Speaking of places to be other than right in my face, jumping up and down, driving me bat-crazy... We cleaned the basement! Again! Which means we should be receiving a flood down there within the next 2-3 weeks. So we have about 3 weeks to enjoy it! Huzzah. Thankfully, I did get a monumental amount of organizing and pitching done, with most of the focus being on elevating EVERYthing. And even though we didn't have any new shelving to elevate upon, I used the closet doors that we took out of Corinne's room (don't ask) and balanced them upon plastic bins. Voila! Instant shelving. I felt remarkably clever and thrifty. Even Patrick, who hates that I save big pieces of wood for "no apparent reason", was impressed. Never doubt me again, my dear.

That's about a wrap. Just me talking to the computer without any purpose or direction in mind. Maybe I can distract you with a photo?40 points if you can name that spooky creature and how Corinne made it...

Yet another story I'll treasure once she's older...

2011-10-01T04:13:00.002-05:00

"Ayyyiiieeeeee!!! Mommy! Mommmmyyyy!!! AHHHHHH!!!! Ow! OW! OWWWWIIEE!!"

"What?!? Where are you?!? What's wrong?!?"

I dashed about my house, cursing its open-floor-plan which completely messes with the ability to judge the direction of sound, especially in a crisis.

I finally discovered my howling daughter in the upstairs bathroom, face buried in a towel, screeching with the force of forty owls.

"There's something in my EYYYEEEE!!!!"

"Ok, ok! Let me see! Let me... Let me SEE, Corinne!! I have to SEE your eye to help you! Here, let me pour some water in it!" I pried and pried but she held that towel TIGHT to her face. With the faucet on full-force, I attempted to Macgyver a few handfuls of water into the crevices of her forehead.

And then, in a moment of weakness, the towel slipped forward and her face was revealed.

Only it wasn't the sweet little face of my 5 year old daughter. Because my daughter doesn't normally have jet-black circles all around her eyes. And MY daughter generally is of a peachy complexion, instead of the mottled brown and black that covered the person in front of me.

"What were you doing?!?" I asked as I dumped cup after cup of water into her eyes.

"I...I....I.... was trying to be a ZOMMMBIIIEEE!!" she wailed.

Yep. Mascara and eye shadow found in the recesses of the bathroom cabinet were apparently too much of a temptation for this kid and she had used an entire tube on her face to get just the right effect of spookiness around the eyes. Once she realized just how much shit she would be in if she was discovered, she tried to wash it all off on her own and accidentally got a massive glob of soap in her eye.

What's killing me about it all is that if she had just ASKED, I would have let her play in that make up! It was really old and I don't care about it at all! But, because this is a recurring theme with that child, I had to send her to her bed early and without a bedtime story.

Sigh...

As I was tweeting about it (because, DUH, I am not going to NOT tweet about THAT!), I was interrupted by a sniffling apology:

"I'm sorry, Mommy... I don't know why I can't stay out of your things. I just like them SO MUCH! I promise I won't do it again!"

Ohhhh, Corinne. If only I could believe that promise!!

I should be their Spokeperson. I really, really should.

2011-09-30T07:59:00.004-05:00

I have finally been digging to the bottom of the huge box of samples that P&G sent to me after attending BlogHer11. Yes, I know it's been over 2 months.

This has led to the discovery of several girly products like "ampoule" for my hair from Pantene and a few items from Oil of Olay. So this week? I decided to be a girl and take care of my hair and face. I'm not sure what I was expecting from that ampoule thing, but the bottle claimed it would refresh and heal my split ends and the damage it has weathered, etc. etc. All I know is that after I used it? My hair still needed a trim. So it's hard to tell if the goop is working when all I can see is 14 different lengths of raggedy, tired hair. Nevertheless, my hair was clean and that's always the makings for a good day around here. So I decided to forge onward and use the moisturizing stuff on my face. In for a penny, after all.

Holy, holy, holy, y'all. My face! Now, maybe it's just because I was remembering to WASH it or maybe it's because of the products, but my face IS looking less war-torn and beat-up! I use the daily wash cloths thingies to clean the make-up off, and then apply the Regenerist stuff to my face and neck and my skin looks and feels AWESOME. Like, baby's butt/rubbing-my-cheeks-all-day/here,-touch-my-cheek-stranger-at-the-grocery-store AWESOME.

I shoved my nose up into Patrick's eyeball last night to prove my point. As he rubbed his bleeding cornea, he dutifully nodded and agreed that YES. I look just like I was 17 again!

So. There you have it. Clear evidence that Oil of Olay's Regenerist will knock a whole 10 years off your age.

;)

*Got the package for attending BlogHer and haven't ever talked to P&G but man-oh-man am I going to email them soon and suggest that I should be their new spokesperson for Oil of Olay. I don't even need to be paid in MONEY. Just in a lifetime supply of Regenerist. Well, maybe a little money, too. If they offer. I'm no martyr.

We've Fallen In Love with Ohio...

2011-09-27T06:49:00.012-05:00

I feel as though this entire summer has been a series of road trips! We've covered Illinois, Wisconsin, Michigan and Indiana. And now, my family can add Ohio to our list of places we've visited this year.

Patrick and I are huge roller coaster fans. So it's a BIG BIG deal to us that all 3 of our kids are also adrenaline junkies. We love Six Flags in Gurnee, Illinois, and go there every summer, but it was the only Amusement park (outside of Disney) that my children had ever attended. It was time to expand our horizons...

Thankfully, they can now add Cedar Point to their list!

Even better, they got to experience Cedar Point during their Halloweekends, where the park is all decorated for Fall. There are several haunted houses that open at nighttime and everywhere you turn you'll find a skeleton in a sad predicament, a troll with a weird tale to tell or a creepy band cranking out some Monster Mash. Don't worry about your little ones, though. The overall effect is still suitable for young children. No bloody gore was present in the park. (Though I can't speak for the Haunted Houses!) See? Spooky Snoopy. Cute!

Because she's always so generous to us and because she also LOVES roller coasters, we brought along my mother-in-law. This was helpful not only because she provided an extra person to help with the odd number in our family, but also because we would have probably eaten at McDonald's the entire trip, if not for her. Love you! Thank you!
My dear Mother-in-law being gently accosted by a ... werewolf? Not sure. But they were really well trained. No screaming kids in sight. My own kids think that the costumed people are funny, but I know a lot of children are freaked out by them.
Evan and Corinne had to make sure, one last time, which rides everyone could go on. There ARE a lot of rides for little kids, but I was SO HAPPY that all of my kids were over 48" tall. That seems to be the cut off for the majority of the coasters. Corinne was able to ride about 85% of the rides, Evan about 95% and Justin could ride all of them. We were PUMPED.

Waiting in line for the Iron Dragon, a slower coaster that is suitable for smaller children, but still has some speed and crazy twists to it. We rode it a LOT. Especially at night time, when the fog machine was pumping a mist over the lake. Corinne thought it was deliciously spooky.
Look at their faces! Aren't they adorable? The Wildcat looks like a tiny little coaster, but Oh My Gosh! It has some serious speed for a mini-ride! Hold on tight at the end, though. Those brakes'll shock you...
It's difficult to get a serious picture of Justin, so I took this one before he knew what hit him. See that in the background? That's the Top Thrill Dragster. It's one of the fastest coasters in the world and only lasts 16.8 seconds. (It's the ride you go on instead of having coffee.) We had early entry to the park because we were staying on the property, so we sped directly to this ride and only had a 10 minute wait. I HIGHLY recommend heading straight to The Dragster, first thing in the morning. It gets some serious lines as the day progresses and you do NOT want to miss it. Don't worry about how freaky it looks or how fast it goes or that you shoot straight up and then straight down. Don't let your nerves talk you out of this ride! It is WORTH IT. The adrenaline rush we had after riding the Dragster lasted for a good hour and we walked around with dopey grins on our faces.

Yeah, she's not really scared. I don't think anything scares this child. Not even the Millennium Force! Just look at this ride: It's enormous and she's only FIVE and yet Corinne and Evan climbed right on board with me and Pat and HELD THEIR HANDS IN THE AIR. I don't know if their fearlessness is a good thing or something to worry about, but since I can't change it, I'm gonna embrace it!

If you are thinking about going this year, there are still some really good deals for tickets available online. You can save tons buy purchasing online and I highly recommend staying on-site so that you can get that early entrance to the park. It's also fabulous to be able to just walk back to your room, without having to deal with buckling sleepy children into the car.

Check out the Cedar Point site for more information. I know that my own family is raring to go back again!

*Disclaimer: I received our tickets for the park entry and 1 night's hotel accommodations from the Cedar Point public relations in exchange for my opinions. But the opinions remain my own, as they always do, and no money was received.

No title necessary

2011-09-22T07:51:00.004-05:00

I have so many topics in my head with half-written posts, but I don't want to put them to paper. (Or rather, screen? Hmmmm. That's a particular phrase that will most likely die out in a generation or two, eh?)

I look at the screen, and all I see is "Words with Friends" or "Go to Bed because you're exhausted."

So, I play Words with Friends and go to bed because I'm exhausted. Stupid, bossy brain.

Things I've done that may or may not sound impressive to anyone but myself:

~ directed a P.E. class for our homeschool club. A PHYSICAL FITNESS CLASS. Me! ME! Lemme tell you, I do not scream "physical fitness guru." But no one else was stepping up and I think it went pretty well. All they really want to do is play organized tag games with weird names attached to it, anyway. I can TOTALLY manage that. Last week was octopus tag. This week: CATERPILLAR tag. No problem.

~ Steam cleaned my carpets. Again, ME. I DID THIS. Another attribute I am not noted for possessing is the ability to keep my house clean. I will pick up, and occasionally, go crazy cleaning top to bottom. But that's usually when a party is coming. And, even then? I've gotten pretty blase about trying to impress people that truly know me. So, to steam clean my filthy, filthy carpets for NO PARTICULAR REASON? Is like a hoarder voluntarily filling up a dumpster.

~ Celebrated my anniversary with Patrick. Hmmm. I guess that this line isn't really something I "accomplished." But it meant that I had to buy a CARD at the STORE. A trip to the store for a single purchase is rare. So that means it must be true love.

~ Watched the weather stations like a hawk because we are doing something FUN this weekend and it says that it might rain! This would suck exponentially, so I keep trying out different weather stations to find a forecast that I like a little better. Please cross your fingers and toes so that we can actually attend this awesome activity...

~ Filmed my baby learning to ride a bike!!! She just figured it out, yesterday afternoon. And now, she's like a pro! I pulled the boys outside to clap and yell. Evan watched his sister doing BMX tricks (no joke) up and down the sidewalk. He then popped his shoes on (because we're ALWAYS barefoot) and began to practice on his bike again!! My mind is racing with the possibilities that we might be able to go on a family bike ride!! Let's just hope that he doesn't give up too soon. Justin was the same age (9) when he finally got on a bike and took off, so maybe that will encourage him....

Good Golly, this was dull. Except for the bike riding. Even a troll would have to admit that THAT was really cool.

Supernanny can kiss my crochet hook

2011-09-17T12:18:00.004-05:00

This morning, while watching Supernanny (nothing else was on. I SWEAR TO GOD), my kids' mouths were hanging open as the little girl flung herself about in a most impressive and incredibly piercing tantrum.

I paused in my crocheting (My rows are finally even!) and gave them the evil eye.

"Why is this shocking to you guys? That is EXACTLY what you sound like! Last night, even! This is why I sent you to your rooms!!"

Shaking my head and smugly smiling to myself because I, obviously, had a better handle on this parenting gig than those parents, I began to crochet once more. And then Corinne turned from the screen where the mother was literally tearing her hair out while shrieking at her children at the top of her lungs:

"But Mommy! THAT is exactly what YOU sound like!"

Too pooped to party

2011-09-16T15:03:00.003-05:00

It's been a long week.

To put it mildly.

Patrick's been out of town. We've left the windows open and the front door unlocked twice. Thankfully, I also forgot to post the sign outside that said "Single, unarmed woman inside! Burglars and psychos, please use the front door!" so we managed to not get murdered and/or mutilated.

The weather has gone from 95 and sunny to 45 and frigid in just under 5 days. Hello, Autumn! In the process of digging out all of our fall clothing, I realized that I purchased the wrong size jeans for Justin. Even though his favorite pair of jeans is ONE SIZE, all of the other jeans that I bought in the same OR LARGER sizes do not fit. AT ALL. As in, the inseam is off, the waist band is crazily small and the legs don't look quite kosher. AWESOMESAUCE. We must venture into the men's department to get the proper fit. I can only assume that this will mean more money. Because anything else wouldn't fit with Murphy's Law.

I feel as though I drove 200 miles and didn't actually "go" anywhere. Well, besides a field trip to an atomic accelerator laboratory, jazz AND ballet, the grocery store twice (even though I somehow didn't purchase a single entire meal), rescued a dog from the terrors of a 4-lane highway, Chicago's Science and Industry Museum, and worked at a children's clothing sale (where I bought those jeans that don't fit my son). So technically? I guess I did go places. But it feels incredibly circular.

I had to cancel on two blogging functions this weekend due to no sitters and no husband home. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise as Evan is now sleeping away his "too tired for schoolwork" agony on the couch. I guess he really DIDN'T feel good, after all? Oops. Not really my fault, though. The whole "Boy who cried Wolf" kid had NOTHING on my middle child. NOTHING.

To be fair, some good stuff DID balance it out a bit. I got to snuggle my nephews while my sister attended a meeting(though that reignited the baby sighs for a bit...), have dinner with my sisters sans children and took my kids to my parents' house for the final swim at Nana and Papa's pool. We also had way too many sleepovers in my bedroom which meant that every chilly morning found us burrowing our icy feet down into our covers for a later start to our days. (i.e. my idea of a Perfect Day).

Basically, though? I miss my husband. Nothing's quite the same without him here and I am ready for this whole week to be OVER.

In which I test what I like to call "The Bloggess Effect."

2011-09-12T05:41:00.003-05:00

The Bloggess Effect, (heretofore* known as TBE) is a phenomenon understood by all low-key bloggers who enjoy the humorous writings of Jen, aka The Bloggess.

TBE most often occurs when said low-key blogger finds herself*** opening the sitemeter of her blog's stats to find that the page views have increased dramatically overnight.

"Halleleujah!" shouts low-key blogger. "The Internet is finally realizing my awesomeness and I will soon have thousands of followers which will then lead to a Famous Blog, following which I will get my own t.v. show!!"

Naturally. This IS what we all think. Maybe some of you don't actually yell it out at the screen? Yes?

Moving on.

As Low-Key Blogger jumps onto her desk chair to shake her middle-aged bootie, she clicks onto the "referred by" line.

And pauses.

And climbs down from her rickety chair.

And weeps just a bit as the truth becomes evident.

No Famous Blog in sight.

Thousands of Followers will not be arriving anytime soon.

And that t.v. show is definitely gonna have to wait.

Because the truth is there in that referring URL line:

http://thebloggess.com

You were witty on a comment on her awesomely famous blog or managed to have a funny blog post title at the time of said comment, thus garnering a tiny portion of her massive amounts of readers' attention.

Thus proving my theory.

*heretofore? Henceforth? Adam told me not to use fancy words. Or did he say to be creative with English? I don't remember.**

**Ok. That's a lie. I probably just wasn't paying attention.

***Defiitely HERself. Because all bloggers are women, right? Except for Jim, Adam, Lou, Mark and that handsome backpacking dude with the eyebrows.

To top it all off, I was wearing a Thong...

2011-09-10T00:01:00.000-05:00

I've been working and shopping at the same Children's Toy and Clothing Resale gig for quite a while. 12 years, in fact. Once I was turned onto the benefits that buying used children's clothing could bring (i.e. extra money for wine and coffee), I became a die-hard volunteer. Every September and March, you will find me waiting in line to stampede the fairgrounds' gates; eager for my chance at AMAZING DEALS.

This year was no different.

I stood in line in the light drizzle, dressed for success: comfortable shoes, t-shirt that breathes, and pants that allow freedom of movement, but still have pockets for the wad of cash I use to pay for my loot. I was armed with my laundry basket on a belt (to pull along behind me when the pile of shoes, jeans and winter gear becomes too heavy to carry) and no purse or jacket to weigh me down.

The doors opened, and I wasted no time. No hemming and hawing at the tables for me. You have to know what you want and where to find it.

I zeroed in on the clothing for Justin. At the age of 12, his clothing is the most expensive in stores, so the greatest money is to be saved at that section. I totally scored on jeans, long sleeved tees and a dress shirt for this winter. Doing a happy little jig, I moved on down the table, and found that there were plenty of winter shirts and tees for Evan, too. Feeling quite proud of myself, I turned around to check out the shoe situation before hitting the girls' department.

Aha! Winter boots for Corinne and they're only... $2.50!! Ka-Ching! I could practically FEEL the condensation from the bottles of wine in my hand as I squatted down to snatch those boots up...

And then I had the strangest sensation...

Almost as if my skin were being drawn upon by a pen, all along the backside of my leg and rear...

The telltale "rrrrriiiippppp!!!!" had me freezing in mid-boot-grab. When I reached around behind me to survey the damage, my hand felt nothing but the soft fuzz of my bare thigh.

Oh yeah. And my ass, as well.

That's right. I had ripped my pants. But not just "ripped" them. Nay. My beloved capris had shredded themselves into a gap so wide that my entire thigh and left cheek were now COMPLETELY exposed.

In a room full of women who were all trying to get MY DEALS.

What to do?

Well, in a situation such as this, there is only one answer: Go with it, girl, for there are no tears in Resale.

It was lucky for me that I had shopped for Justin's clothing first. There was a soft, long-sleeved tee on top that easily tied around my waist. I tugged it low enough that no flesh could be glimpsed and I continued about my merry way, securing the jeans and Christmas outfit that Corinne needed in addition to a cute ballet leotard and a puzzle on the U.S. states, all the while enjoying a cool breeze down below.

Because that's how I roll.
Note: View of "cheeks" may be slightly altered to remain PG and to spare your precious eyes.

My 5 year old swiped my camera

2011-09-09T04:10:00.005-05:00

What concerns me most is what was I doing while she was walking around, taking pictures with my expensive camera?
Well, No. I guess what really concerns me most is "How did she TAKE this shot?" This is on top of her wardrobe and to get this shot, she'd have to be standing on top of SOMEthing, I just don't know what...
Not too bad. Got everyone in the picture...
Actually, pretty good centering... And you have to love a chick who has a fairy next to a Star Wars poster.
Annnddd, there you go. What my house is really like. A random shot of school trash, cat legs and a drawer that I keep meaning to put back into my desk...
This picture would be REALLY disturbing if it wasn't so freaking hilarious. Also? Anytime a child has a missing tooth, my heart goes all pitty-pat... How can you not love a girl who can flare her nostrils like that? That's sheer talent. Talent and good genes.

In Which I Become Like Steve Irwin

2011-09-06T07:27:00.006-05:00

At what degree will fruit flies naturally DIE? If I leave my windows open every night, and the temperature drops to about 50 Farenheit each night (which it DOES! It's wonderfully chilly and I am wrapped in a ROBE!!!!), how long do I have to wait before I can expect to find their little corpses all curled up on my counter tops instead of hovering over the drains and garbage cans?

I swear to God, we are NOT filthy people. Now, we are not super-clean, either, but we've never had fruit flies in the 14 years we've been married, so either I've been doing something right for 14 years or the little buggers were just lying in wait for over a decade, plotting the prime moment to strike and invade my home. Seeing as how fruit flies only live a few weeks, I'm guessing this was just a random attack.

Or maybe they covet my juicy tomatoes?I mean, really? Who wouldn't?

I was doing the whole "vinegar in a cup with a funnel thing" but it wasn't working! They would go in, get trapped, and I would do a victory dance in the kitchen, complete with hip thrusts and shouts of "Uh! Uh! Take THAT you little bastards!" I would then skip happily upstairs to bed and sleep an untroubled, bug-free bliss. So, you can imagine my surprise when I would come downstairs only to find that they had ESCAPED! They had escaped and had an orgy overnight, increasing their numbers threefold! Not only that, but their offspring had been raised on stories of me, the Great Captor. They were PISSED.

I have been suffering these past few days (oh, how I've suffered!). Swatting my head, whacking the walls, and swearing uncontrollably.* FINALLY, just moments ago, I decided to read the ENTIRE directions on How to Kill Fruit Flies.

Heh.

"Release them every day."

Ooohhhh.... No happy victory dances as I wait for them to drown? That's not nice? They will figure out the funnel? Their brains are small but not non-existent? I have to carry the glasses outside and RELEASE them into the wild?

Ohhh.....

I suddenly feel all Animal Planetish.

*that may or may not have to do with the fruit flies... I may just have a profanity issue....

Crrrruuuunch. Crrrruuuunch.*

2011-09-04T05:30:00.000-05:00

See this? These 12 rows?I MADE THAT.**

For realz.

See these?***

And these?

I GREW THEM.

With my hands.

I grew them and these herbs and I just mix that shit UP and have been making the best pasta sauce EVER from my garden.

That I GREW.

Just like God.

I feel POWERFUL. I feel.... Inspired.

Got a problem? LET ME AT IT.

I feel as though I could create anything and solve any issues you can throw my way. Just me, my crochet hook and my garden hose.

*That's the sound of my crunchiness factor increasing by 34%.

**Be kind. I learned how to crochet at 9:30 last night and only have the basic step down. I am going for the enjoyment of the PROCESS here, folks. Not the exactness of the stitch. I asked Corinne if she was going to wear the scarf I was making and she hedged, very kindly, "Um... Maybe. Maybe if I can't find any other scarf, and I am really cold, I will wear it."

***Next year: Grapes. If I can make tomatoes for my own sauces, I can sure as hell grow grapes for my own wine. I AM LIKE GOD. Let's just hope the wine doesn't taste the way my "scarf" (I'm using that term loosely) looks. i.e. lumpy and confusing. But LOVELY. Oh so lovely and pink and soft and I am WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR NOW LET'S GO CREATE SOMETHING RAWWWRR!!!!

Sweeter than Honey...

2011-09-02T05:45:00.005-05:00

"Mommy, how do I look?" She peers at me from underneath her mop of wispy blond hair. Only it's not wispy, anymore. It's... wet?

"Oh, you look lovely, Corinne! Did you use water to slick down your hair?"

But she's danced away in a swirl of her flowing hippie skirt; singing a Taylor Swift song with surprising accuracy. I return to my coffee and immerse myself in my emails until a truly pleasing aroma overtakes me. Turning around, I discover the odor is emanating from Corinne who has flitted back into the room to her art desk behind me.

"Wow! You smell really good! Did you use soap on your hair?"

Blank stare.

I sniff her head again. She smells... familiar... but I can't quite place the scent.

"Corinne? What did you put on your hair?"

"I... don't remember. Just water, Mommy."

Knowing my daughter and her inability to refrain from sampling my perfumes, soaps and hair goop, I swept my hand through her locks. It felt.... oily.

"Did you put soap on your hair? You smell like..." I inhaled deeply, "... fruit. You smell really, really fruity!"

"I didn't, Mommy! I promise! I didn't put soap on my hair!!!" Her enormous eyes are indignant.

I grudgingly pull myself away from my beloved computer and we trudge into the kitchen. I am fairly positive that she put the new dish soap which smells like red grapefruit on her hair and just didn't wash it all out. Not that I condone using dish soap on your head, but hey; If my kid is going to voluntarily wash her hair, I am not going to complain. And the dish soap does smell DIVINE. So I understood her desire to use it.

I washed her hair out several times and we talked about being sure to properly rinse soap after we shampoo our heads. She continued to insist that she did NOT put the soap on her head and I continued to roll my eyes. I rubbed her head with a moderately clean kitchen towel and sent her off to play while bombarding the back of her head with reminders to "Tell the Truth!"

Still. That scent. I wonder...

I check the dish soap bottle. I sniff. It's really fruity, for sure, but not exactly what she had on her head. And I SWEAR that I know that smell! The olfactory does NOT forget! Deciding that it may just be one of those parenting queries that never reveals itself, I abandon the mystery to clean the house before our friends come over for dinner.

Later that night, during a conversation with my girlfriend, I notice that Corinne's hair still looks a little... wet. I begin to describe the afternoon to my girlfriend. I laugh as I say,

"...and her hair was oily! I mean, what could she possibly have gotten into?!? Ha Ha Ha!!! Ha...Ha... Oh. Oh dear...."

I thump up the stairs to our room and fling open the door and there, upon our bedroom dresser, is the answer. The bottle. The aroma that smelled so pleasant and was so familiar but was so difficult to place when it arose from my 5 year old's head.

My kindergartener had bathed her head in our scented "personal massage" oil. The oil in the bottle that has a drawing of people in a very, um... amorous position.

I do not have enough money for the therapy that her childhood will require.

Looking for a cheap weekend?

2011-08-31T09:19:00.000-05:00

Benefit #1,324 of homeschooling is the ability to take mini-vacations whenever you feel like it. Calendars be damned.

My mother in law took me and the kids (Pat had to work. Sucks to be the bread-winner...) to Indianapolis a few weeks ago to visit the Indianapolis Children's Museum. The place is freaking HUGE and we needed the full day to cover it...

Being greeted by Bumblebee in the entrance hall....
That is a CLOCK. A clock with blue liquid that flows and marks the time change and is SO FREAKING COOL. Evan and I specifically came back to watch the hour change from 1 to 2 so that we could watch the liquid swoosh out from the minutes back to the holding chamber. You have to see it to understand, but it was really neat and we had a long conversation about time, gears, pressure, etc. You have no idea how badly I would love to own a clock like this one.
The Dinosphere interested all of us, even Justin. He is my museum "reader." He'll read every. Single. Plaque. Every game, every interactive station. You name it: he wants to read it. So we spent a long time in the Dinosphere...

...which was fine with Evan and Corinne. They are actually digging for fossils! It's not sand, either. It's some compressed stone stuff that must be chipped away. Every person is actually contributing to the "discovery" of what's below. It's freaking awesome.Taking a break for a game of checkers with Grandma...

We stopped at every play kitchen/restaurant station they had (there were quite a few throughout the museum). This is my dessert from my son. Isn't he sweet?
Yeah. He thinks he's pretty hilarious.Learning about Ruby Bridges in the Power of Children exhibit...
It never fails. Give Justin a water table, and he's still all over it. We definitely spent a huge portion of our museum time at the extensive water table.Awww. Aren't we adorable? It's nice that he still likes to hug me. And lets me document it. Don't tell him that most boys grow out of this, ok?
And Corinne and I spent a HUGE chunk of time in the Barbie exhibit. :)

I know, I know. It doesn't sound "educational" to have a Barbie exhibit. But she created outfits on mannequins, posed in a "Fashion show" and even created sketches of new outfits.
A future in fashion design? Perhaps. All I know is that she is asking for more blank people to draw on and a mannequin for her room. This could get interesting...Pretending to search for buried treasure. She just loves any excuse to wear goggles.Participating in an Egypt presentation and choosing the correct thrones, etc. We really explored Egypt for a long time in both the ancient exhibit and also the second Egyptian exhibit on modern day Egypt. Evan even sent me an email from there! It was hilarious.One of these things is not like the others...
Is that not gorgeous? If for no other reason than to see the Chihuly glass sculpture, you must visit the Indy Children's Museum. This view is taken from below on the slowly rotating circular couch.
Grandma and the kids found every single item on the "search and find" board. We also made sure to do the interactive "blow your own glass" computer program. Very cool.
The sculpture from the staircases that surround it. STUNNING.
Absolutely stunning.
To top things off, my MIL found a great deal at the Caribbean Cove Waterpark resort. We stayed there for 2 nights, breakfast included both mornings, and got tickets to the museum included as well. It was SO CHEAP. Truth be told, the hotel is a little run-down. But the entryway is beautiful, the breakfast was delicious, and the room, while not beautiful, was clean enough.
The kids had fun in their small waterpark which has 3 larger slides, a good lazy river, a fun children's splash area, a basketball pool and 2 hot tubs. Plenty of stuff to occupy them for a few hours each night.
And honestly, if I told you how cheap our deal was, you would probably flip out.

This was a totally unsponsored weekend unless you count my mother-in-law as a sponsor because she treated us to the entire thing (thank you! Love you!). We truly, truly had a blast on our own (her own) dime and it was worth every single penny.

Date Night

2011-08-29T09:33:00.004-05:00

Tracing the paths of the satellites across the evening sky with my husband...

Talking about aliens invading the earth...

Cracking open another beer...

Propping my legs on the cooler as I watch him shoot midnight hoops...

Reflecting on our past, our present, our future, our fortune...

Holding his familiar hand in mine...

Enjoying the peace and happiness of being with my best friend...

Date Night never feels as sweet as when it's unplanned and unfettered.

Swinging in the rain... Just swiiinging in the rain...

2011-08-27T13:41:00.001-05:00

There isn't anything quite like a summer rain. The aroma that the water and earth produce is nothing short of exotic. Here, in suburban Illinois, I have access to an exotic smell. Amazing.

Even more amazing is the absolute joy coursing through my heart as my children are screaming through the raindrops. Dashing from yard to yard... Getting soaked and muddy and LOVING IT.

When I was a child, there was a large, open church field directly behind my house. My best friend and I would spend hours getting "lost" in that field. Hiding behind pine trees and under the church stoops, we would pretend to be explorers on the ocean. Sometimes we were pirates that cruelly stole loot and buried it in the baseball dugout. Sometimes we were orphans, searching for a family to love us while we survived countless tragedies. One of the best assets to our imagination was an honest-to-gosh rainstorm. A steady downpour in the middle of summer was best so our moms wouldn't claim it was too cold to get wet. A good soaking added dimension to our flailing shipwrecks and dramatic rescues. In a rainstorm, even the dingy gray rocks of Illinois become sparkling rubies and diamonds for orphans and pirates to uncover...

All of those memories flood back to my consciousness whenever it rains. And to witness my own children constructing their own memories of playing in a storm never fails to stagger me...

Originally posted in summer of 2009. Reposted today because I am plum tired.

Too long for Twitter

2011-08-24T16:15:00.003-05:00

I think it's a cruel trick of the Cotton Industry that their material always shrinks at just the moment that my ass grows. Someone should look into the timing of chocolate advertisements, too. I'll betcha they up their media exposure every 28 days.

There is probably some conspiracy between the chocolate and fabric industries.

And the government.

And maybe even God.

I am SO Over..

2011-08-23T15:59:00.007-05:00

I am SO over shaving my legs. Italian DNA requires that I perform this hideous task every freaking day when shorts weather is in season (lest I rub up against you and cause lacerations) and a healthy sex drive has me moaning and groaning with a razor through the wintry months. I'd like to find the person who decided that shaving was a necessity and force him (because you KNOW it was a MAN) to have to shave every hair on his body every day.

I am SO over explaining what "Because I Said So" means to my kids. IT'S SELF-EXPLANATORY.

I am SO over buying new shoes for my rapidly growing 12 year old. Do you think I could just buy a pair that is 3 sizes too big and stuff the toes with tissues? Would that be "lazy parenting?" Or just frugal?

I am SO over Spam mail regarding all of the single black women who are apparently dying to meet me. That's fabulous. I'm honored. Really. But I'm kinda married and kinda straight. Both kinda scream "Not Interested!" (Also on this email list: the repeating notification that THIS email is the final notification for a grand prize/invitation/Life-Altering-Choice. I get my hopes all up that it truly IS the final notification only to see 3 or 4 more "final notifications" following it. Methinks the Internet requires a definition of what "final" means.)

I am SO over setting unrealistic goals for myself. Phhhbbbbtttt. Done with that shizzat. I am keeping it real, dudes.

And now, for something completely different, a favorite montage of mine.

Make a video - it's fun, easy and free!
www.onetruemedia.com

Happy Happy, Joy Joy Indeed

I'm Still Alive

2011-08-22T17:56:00.007-05:00

So. This year's first day of homeschooling has neared its end and all 4 of us are still alive.

A good day, indeed.

Truthfully, it went pretty well. I credit the fact that I am WAAAAAY more relaxed about this whole situation than I was in the past with my level of Mellow. I know they'll learn. I know we'll succeed. I know this, because we've already been doing it for 2 years. It's all good, man.

And so we forge onward into the next school year. I am confident that happiness will continue to find its way into our family more often than not and that many, many opportunities will arise because of our personal decision of this lifestyle.

The Hair.

The Eyes.

The Fancy Dress.*

The Pain.

The Happy Worker.

The Deceptive Smile.

*See the fancy dress? She decided that the first day of kindergarten warranted tights, heels and a party dress with matching cardigan-thingy. I adore this child.

Overheard and Misunderstood

2011-08-18T01:30:00.000-05:00

Overheard and Misunderstood

Originally posted in Sep, 2010

~~~~

Recently shouted from the family room:

"Muwaaahaaa-haaa!! Suck on My Titty!"

Recently shouted from the bathroom where I was blow-drying my hair:

"WHAAAAATTT?!?! WHAT did you just say?!??"

"Suckonmahtitty!!"

Mouth completely open, I turned off the hair dryer:

"WHAT? Suck on my What?!?"

"Tatty."

"TITTY?!?"

"Tatty."

I furiously opened the door and flew down the hall to where my boys were playing Lego Batman on the DS. Before the fire in my eyes scorched them, I needed clarification:

"Ok. What? Suck on my WHAT?"

Clearly thinking his mother was a lunatic, Evan slowly stated,

"Suck-a-ma-ta-ting. I'm sucking up these Legos on the screen. See?"

Sure enough, his tilted Ds showed a little guy sucking up Legos so fast that he needed a new word to describe it. Hence, 'Suckamatating.'

Clearly.

Hugging My Heart

2011-08-17T08:13:00.004-05:00

She shifts her body to attempt to hug me even closer. Her feverish arms wrap around my neck and we snuggle again.

"Corinne, when I hug you, I feel like I'm hugging my heart..."

An understanding smile lights up her tired little face.

"Oh, Mommy... I love you so much, too."

We rest together and wait for the super-sweet-purple medicine to work its magic on her horrendous headache and fever. The urge to squeeze each other and profess our immeasurable love cannot be contained;

"I love you!"

"I know you love me, honey."

"How do you know I love you, Mommy?"

"Because you are so incredibly sweet to me. You bring me ice water when I look thirsty. You brush my hair and hug my neck. You want to make me proud by doing and being your best. And I know you love me because I can feel it in the air."

"Oh."

pause

" I know that you love me, too. Want to know how?"

"Yes."

"I know that you love me because you stayed up allll night when I was throwing up and you picked up the puke and it made you gag but you kept on taking care of me, even when I puked in your bed! And you washed my carpet and gave me medicine and changed my clothes. I know you love me because you take care of me, Mommy!"

We giggled over how gross that was. (It was exceptionally gross.) And then we continued with our hugging. We sang to each other and she finally drifted off into a nap to battle the germs that dared take up residence inside of her.

I realized that this moment was one of the best ones of my life. Not because of a monumental accomplishment or thrill of traveling to a distant land but because my daughter loves me and was with me. I was literally hugging my heart and she still loves to hug me back. That is a treasure that cannot be measured.

I don't ever want to forget these little moments. Ever.

A post full of memories

2011-08-15T07:46:00.012-05:00

That's a massive pile of sand. Deceptively enormous. When you try to climb the large peak at Warren Dunes, you will feel like a weak and puny girly-man (even if you're a girl).
But the rush on the run back down is worth the effort...
Do you have any clue how many pounds of beach we brought back with us?
You wouldn't think that Lake Michigan could have actual "waves", would you? Body boarding without salt water in your mouth? Sign me up.
Sigh... I just wanted a picture without food in their mouths but they couldn't stop eating the delicious turkey and sand sandwiches I concocted. I am THAT GOOD at folding bread and meat.
I was there! With the beach umbrella! See? I even have a picture to prove it.
And then... the rain. Oh the rain, rain, rain, rain.
And the mud.
We found out that this year was the last year for our tent. It now resides in a dumpster in lower Michigan. Leaks, broken zipper, busted poles and such. It was a good tent, while it lasted.
Soooo very dirty. But happy.

And mosquito bitten. But happy.

Corinne and her cousin made the word "dirty" into a noun, this weekend.
Crazy, gusty, sandy goodbye. The wind was whipping the grit into our eyes and causing waves big enough to freaking SURF ON. Surfers in Michigan are Hard Core, y'all. Cold water? Pshaw.
See? Gritty eyes. Still handsome, though.Blueberry season is HERE. We hit a local farm before leaving Michigan and the kids had so much fun. All for under $5 after we paid for the berries we were bringing home. (the ones in our bellies were free)
Side note: Evan has a cowlick from HELL on his forehead. I actually cut the hair over his right eye LONGER than the rest of his forehead hair, but it STILL creeps up and twists about and makes it look like he's slightly neglected.

When we find an activity that all 3 kids enjoy, we mark that shit down in a freaking BOOK and repeat and repeat and repeat. Blueberry picking is definitely becoming a family tradition.
This kid? This kid had a blast. Between the body boarding, dune hiking, s'mores making and playing telephone around the campfire, he made more memories than I can ever attempt to record. I'm so glad I was there to witness it...
And now I have approximately 23 loads of laundry to wash, 3 batches of blueberry muffins to make, 12 bags of sand to dump out and 346 blogs to read.

Which do you think I'll do first?

;)

A Moment...

2011-08-10T01:40:00.000-05:00

"Night, Evan! Love you!"

"Night, Mama. Love you more!"

"That's impossible."

"Nothing's impossible, if you put your MIND to it! Except for touching your eyeball to your elbow. That's pretty gross."

Ahhh, sweet boy. You are mistaken. It IS impossible. For I love you more than you can ever imagine.

Not that it's a competition.But I still win.

Required Post-BlogHer Inundation of Pictures of Bloggers

2011-08-09T10:04:00.006-05:00

Ok. Wow. Very, very tired from BlogHer. So tired that I don't even want to blog. Maybe this whole "blogging conference" idea is counter productive?

Whatever. Here are a few pictures of me and people that you may or may not care to look at but mean a whole bunch to me because we BONDED, yo. Whether they remember me or not.

Also, for some reason, I put my pictures in reverse order and I am not going to rearrange them because it's MY blog and I'll do what I want to.

Ka-pow, beeyatch.

Alexandra, Jessica, and Lela chatting it up at the Aiming Low party. I was getting quite ridiculous at this point and I think Lela may believe that I write a humor blog or something. Surprise!
Momo Fali aka Diane is da bomb. She did this thing with her hand that I won't write about but which will be forever embedded in my mind. You're totally wondering now, aren't you?
Jim aka Busydad likes me. He really likes me! Which is good because I am a crazy stalker of his blog (which he doesn't update often enough because he has a "Job" and is "Important" and shit. Whatever. I'll still pimp him out because his blog posts are worth waiting a month for. Seriously.)
Ooh! That's me! I look all relaxed and Californian'ed. Because I WAS. I had a margarita by the pool and nobody was asking me to hold anything or to watch them cannonball 42 times in a row. I was Chilled. Out.

I put my Big Girl Pants on and went about a strange city by myself before the conference started. That? That is one of the highlights of the entire week. I hit the Maritime Museum and went on a freaking pirate ship. And I ate fish tacos with a Corona at a restaurant without anyone beside me and LOVED it. I kinda adore the idea of individual vacations. Not ALL the time, for sure. But occasionally, it's freaking awesome to just exist without anyone around you.
My newest BFF, Trina, aka Lynn, aka Walking With Scissors. She has a lot of names. It's one of her "Special issues" but I'll overlook it because she and I got along so well. Muwah! Alberta, Canada is too far away...
Heh. BACKWARDS pictures because this is me and Lisa right after we met up on our first day, enjoying lunch before our Hornblower cruise around the bay (Awesome!). I highly recommend having a wingman on a BlogHer trip. Someone who has your back should you text "I'm all alone! Help!" and doesn't think poorly of you.

ALSO!! I did a Flash Mob on Friday during the lunch session. You can watch the video here to see ME the best... It was AWE.Some. I am really visible around the 3/4 mark and on wearing a green and white tank dress with my hair all down and crazy and messing up the arm motions.

And that's about it for now. I have about a hundred more photos but most of them are a little embarrassing (I have a tendency for taking really silly pictures of myself). Also? I'm done typing.

Why I Do What I Do.

2011-08-03T16:06:00.002-05:00

Immortality on the Internet- Originally posted Feb 20, 2010

Looking through photos of relatives that have passed brings so many questions to mind; what did she dream of? Who did he love most? What sacrifices did she make? What tragedies shaped his life? In what ways did this unknown ancestor influence my present life?

If no one remembers who you were and what you were inside, does this mean that your thoughts and dreams evaporate when your time on Earth is over?

Is this why I blog? To be remembered? To adamantly declare that "I will NOT be forgotten! I will not be reduced to a half-dozen, unlabeled, fuzzy photographs in a box in someone's attic. My presence on this planet will have an impact because I write these words in this little box, from my little office." Like Independence Day, "We will not go quietly into the night!"

I suppose I am no better than the very people I (internally) mock. The ones who desperately purchase anti-aging creams and Botox in an attempt to retain their youth. The people who say "IF they die..." instead of "WHEN I die..." People who cannot accept that our bodies are temporary (so incredibly temporary) modes of transportation for our spirit's stream of consciousness.

I suppose that in writing my little escapades on my little blog in my little fraction of the internet, I am desperately carving my name on the wall and screaming "I WAS HERE!" No matter how I sugar-coat my reasons for blogging (making friends! recording our lives for my children! parental camaraderie!) I must honestly admit that it all boils down to the same need we all have which is to know that we MATTERED.

Don't you... Forget about me...

Yes, yes. I know. I MATTER. I matter to my family. I matter to my friends. I love them all, and they love me. I am blessed in knowing this fact so confidently. That is not in question. But, the older I get, the more I feel the need to make a more permanent mark upon the outside world. A painting, an article, an accomplishment of some sort that causes me to stand out from the rest. Something that proclaims "She was here! She was fabulous and ordinary and flawed and HUMAN. She dreamed and loved. Her heart expanded and fractured. And there will never be another exactly like her!"

I don't want to go quietly into the night...

Toodle-Loo!

2011-08-02T19:59:00.003-05:00

I am SO excited! I am up for 5 days of "firsts."

Flying by myself for the first time? Check.

Being in California for the first time? Check.

Not having to manage/worry/coddle/plan for anyone else while on vacation? Check.

If I want an ice cream cone, I can buy myself a damn cone without having to buy 4 more ice cream cones which then negates the whole "cheap treat" aspect of the cone? Check.

I am happily skipping and feeling WAY chilled out about this BlogHer trip. That could change at any moment, but it's wonderful and I am hoping that the mojo continues to flow.

Ohm.

Peace out till next week, y'all.

Feeling Betta

2011-07-31T20:58:00.004-05:00

Ok. So the angst of packing for a trip that I will go on my own was starting to stress me out (putting it lightly). Added to hormonal fluctuations and some humidity and I was a Right Fun Time.*

It's amazing to me what a night of watching a handsome husband repeatedly tossing a wiffle ball to my daughter will do for my mood. That, and a glass of rum and Coke.

Me likey Rum and Coke.

Basically, I'm pretty freakin mellow about now.

Rock on, BlogHer11. I am ready for whatever you have to throw my way! (I am totally doing that Rocky nose-rub-punch-punch-sweat-dripping-thing right now**)

Who wants to wander the streets of San Diego with me on Thursday morning? Anyone? Bueller?
This picture has absolutely no relevance to this post other than the fact that I think I am funny.

*See also: crying over a cotton shirt that shrunk a bit, half-hour conversations on how to carry more than 2 suitcases, and weeping to husband that packing for BlogHer feels like High School all over again. Have I mentioned how much I really didn't like high school?

** Only I'm not sweating. I don't particularly like to sweat and usually cease activity*** once perspiration becomes an issue. ***Well. MOST activities. There are some occasions that even I will endure sweating for....

Blerbidy blerb

2011-07-30T13:48:00.003-05:00

Still quite busy with washing of stinky socks and laying out of the same 5 outfits in preparation for BlogHer next week. You'd think I'd be better at this packing thing, but I forgot some stuff last time.

Anywho. It is really loud in my house; Corinne just made Patrick's day by requesting that he sing something for her and her friend. Every musician's dream!

If you're going to BlogHer and want to connect, can you please comment with your twitter handle? I am WAY LATE to this organizing game and am realizing how unprepared I really am. It's a bit unnerving...

FYI, I have 3 giveaways on my review blog right now with practically NO ENTRIES. Good stuff, too!

A headache revisited

2011-07-26T01:56:00.000-05:00

Originally posted in July of 2010. I am unplugging until Friday. Sure hope the Internet doesn't fall apart without me!

No radio, no a/c, construction traffic and a 4 year old. Do the math.

"Do we have an attic?"

"Why do you ask?" (picturing her climbing into the crawl area in the boys' closet. I've managed to hide that little storage spot from them and intend to keep it that way.)

"I just want to know!"

I hesitate...

"In my closet, way up high, yes."

"Why is it up high? Does it have anything in it? Can I see inside it?"

"Because they made it that way. It's empty. And no."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not for you."

"But why?"

"Because I SAID so. Now let me drive."

....

"Is the devil for real?"

"What do you think?"

"Billy* says the devil's for real and he will GET you if you are bad."

"Get you? Well, Billy's family believes in the devil and the Bible. Everybody's different. You are allowed to believe whatever you want. What do you believe?"

"I don't think the devil's real."

"Fabulous. Let me drive."

......

"Why don't we store anything in our attic?"

"Aaarrrggggh!! Because it's up high and it gets too hot and I don't want to mess around with it. I am a basement person. I store in the basement, not the attic."

"Why does it get hot?"

"Because the insulation and circulation are all screwy up there and if you ever DO go up there without an adult you could get stuck and suffocate and DIE. Now LET ME DRIVE!"

.....

"Did you know that if you put a plastic bag over your head, you can die? Even little kids, Momma. If a little kid puts a bag over her head, she will DIE. Did you know that, hmmm?"

"Holy hell, child. PLEASE be silent, for just a few minutes, please?!?"

.....

"Isn't hell where the devil lives, Mommy? In hell? So, is he real after all? And why are you a basement person? Don't you like the summertime? I like the summertime. You can go swimming in the summertime and eat popsicles outside. Did you know...."

I really need to get another radio in my van.

*not his real name

3 Minutes of Fame...

2011-07-24T06:09:00.000-05:00

I welcome everyone who is here from my 3 minutes of "fame" on NBC 5 Today. I hope I didn't stumble or stare blankly into the camera... I am a bit freaked out at all of the possible ways I can flub this up...

Please take the time to read through the company information and my own views on the products. If you have any questions on the products or where to purchase them, please ask and I will do my best to help you or direct you to someone who can!

Also, please let me know that I didn't look too weird or spastic on tv. Lie if you have to, because I am seriously nervous!

All information in italics is straight from the companies' releases. My own take on the products is in regular font. There is so much information, that I didn't want to leave anything out!

The Safety Turtle by Safety Turtle.com

The Safety Turtle Wireless Wristband Alarm is an ingenious combination of wireless signal-outfitted wristband and a wireless base station receiver that sounds an alarm the instant a child falls or ventures into water. The base station can be positioned anywhere between pool/waterside and 200 feet away (depending on model desired). $235

If you are a family that is around water quite often, I can see how the Safety Turtle would be truly beneficial. Water (and fire) are 2 of my biggest concerns with little kids. Did you know that it only takes an inch or two of standing water for a baby to drown? The thought is horrific. If you have a pool or frequent the beach often, this may be a product that you find is worth the cost. Corinne and I tested it out in our sink and the MOMENT the sensor got wet, the alarm went off! The uses for the Safety Turtle are quite extensive. Have a pet? Work at a public pool? Like to go boating? Check out their website for many different reasons that the Safety Turtle might apply for you and your family.

The Sport-Brella XL by Sport-Brella

The Sport-Brella XL gives the whole family instant protection from the sun, rain, and wind with its domed shape, side flaps and 125 SPF. Its umbrella action open mechanism allows it to be set up in just three seconds and fits the family, fully 9 ft. wide. Includes top wind vents, side zippered windows for efficient airflow and additional visibility, internal pockets for gear and valuables, convenient carry bag and tethers/ground stakes for use when necessary for additional stability. $69.99

I am SO STOKED about the Sport-Brella XL!! We love camping, fishing, and going to the beach, but all of those activities can truly stink when it is 95 degrees and sunny. Just last year, my middle son almost had heat stroke at Lake Michigan's beach and he is WAY too big for me to carry across the dunes! I'm thrilled to bring the Sport-Brella XL to the Dunes with us this August and to continue to use it for any outdoor events that occur in the elements. If you purchase this, just be sure to take the directions out of the pouch with the stakes. Mine was a little stiff to manipulate, at first but is a breeze to set up now! In fact, we used it this weekend for a bit of shade during our lunch in Six Flags' parking lot. What a help!

The ThermaCell Outdoor Lantern by ThermaCell

The ThermaCELL Outdoor Insect-Repellent Lantern is the best option for keeping mosquitoes and other insects in any outdoor setting. The Patio Lantern is both a powerful insect repellent device and a functional and portable, long-lasting outdoor LED lantern, with both functions being usable separately or together. Providing a 15x15 ft mosquito-free zone, it is 98% effective (tested and used by the Department of Defense and the United States Army), making it the most effective insect repellent device on the market. It is also non-toxic, safe and non-intrusive, being DEET-free, silent, portable and odor free. Weighs only 13 ounces. $31.99

I wish we'd had this lantern 2 weeks ago. The mosquitoes were terrible with all of the rain! I know it will only get worse, and when we're within the woods at a campsite, it can be something FIERCE, even with bug spray and long clothing on. It's small enough to put on our table without overwhelming our personal space, which, when you're camping, is a BIG DEAL. The Thermacell Lantern is just what our family needed; not only for campsites, but also our backyard!

Peekaru Ozone by TogetherBe Baby

Peekaru Ozone lets parents take their baby out in the sunshine without worrying about sun damage or having to apply chemical sunscreens. The Peekaru Ozone is a uniquely breathable and lightweight baby carrier sun cover that attaches securely over any soft baby carrier, keeping baby shaded and cool. Can also be attached to any standard car seat or stroller. The super soft, moisture-wicking fabric blocks 95% of the sun's UVA and UVB rays while keeping baby cool and comfortable. Fits babies from birth through two years with an adjustable bottom that easily and securely cinches up for use with small babies, and lets out to accommodate babies' legs as they grow. $44.95

I cannot wait to see my little nephew using this product! It's so incredibly hot and his skin is so incredibly fair that his parents need to be super careful with him. Knowing that they can take him out without either burning his skin or suffocating him from attempting to protect him from the UV rays is comforting to this Auntie.Chicken in the Car and the Car Won't Go

I am so happy to review this new book (only released 6 weeks ago and not even in stores yet!) written by my blogger friend, Melisa Wells. With about 200 activities for tweens, teens, children and adults, this book's range spans across the entire Chicagoland area, city and suburbs. It includes detailed information regarding pricing, parking, and appropriateness for age ranges. It also provides many phone, address, and website addresses for a fully cooperative book. (I just love it when everything I need is right in front of me, without having to search for the details!)

You can purchase it on Amazon or buy a signed copy from the website, chickeninthecar.com.

I hope that these reviews were helpful to many of you! I also hope that you stick around and check out my little corner of the blog-o-sphere. Thanks for reading and have a fabulous day!

Disclaimer: I was provided with these products for free with the understanding that I would honestly review them on NBC 5 and also on my blog. All opinions are my own and no monetary compensation was exchanged.

Why a Sox Fan would choose a Cubs Banner

2011-07-23T10:15:00.005-05:00

There are some moments in life during which you have to rely on your mental camera.

We went to Six Flags Great America yesterday. It was PERFECT. After an interminably long and humid week, Friday broke open with a monstrous thunderstorm. Since Friday was going to be our 3rd attempt at visiting Six Flags (the other two being a freezing rain day in June and that crazy power outage on the 11th) and our last opportunity to go with Patrick before all of our vacations and work trips began to dominate the calendar, we sucked it up, hopped into our van, and hoped for the best.

And the Angels Sang and the Heavens opened up and, after an hour of driving in a mock-hurricane, the rain suddenly... ceased. And the sun slowly shone and the humidity didn't overwhelm.

And my family enjoyed the Best Day Ever at Six Flags.

Being that we love to ride lots of rides, I don't like to lug a camera around the park. We are empty-handed, big-pocketed people, walking with purpose to get onto as many rides as possible. Thanks to the crazy weather, the park was practically empty ALL DAY LONG. Any ride we wanted to get onto was less than 10 minutes, if not a walk-on situation!

With the right shoes, Corinne is justbarely tall enough to ride the 48" coasters. (At 5 years old, she's well on her way to becoming fashion-model tall.) I wasn't sure if she'd really want to go on everything she had been crossing her fingers over. I mean, The Eagle, The Viper, and other crazy rides are a little overwhelming for a little kid.

Apparently, I forget who we were dealing with. Not only did she ride every single ride that she was "tall enough" for (good shoes!), but she rode them all several times! And by herself! And laughing the entire time.

Click.

Do you know how incredible it is to ride on a roller coaster, with your entire family? When the lap bars locked in place on the Eagle for Corinne's first ride, I looked back at my sons, daughter and husband all eagerly waiting for an adrenaline rush. Patrick and I grinned like fools at each other and marked the occasion in our minds...

Click.

The courage was catching because Justin (our cautious and careful child) not only rode Batman for the first time, but rode it 4 times! He also surprised us with his willingness to watch his siblings while Pat and I enjoyed a few rides that they weren't tall enough for. To see his personality and generosity slowly but surely maturing caused me many moments of pause and gratitude.

Click.

Still, the absolute best, 100% most AWESOME moment of the day was when Patrick finally won at the basketball game. You know the type of game: the announcer guy grills you and jokes around while you have to make a certain amount of shots with overly-inflated basketballs at the free throw circle line. My husband, on the 3rd attempt, earned enough points to take home a prize. His choices: a Sox banner or a Cubs banner.

My husband, the ever-proud Sox Fan, pondered for a moment, looked at both, and glanced at Evan, his defiantly proud Cubs Fan son.

He casually tossed a Cubs banner to Evan.

Evan's eyes were saucers of disbelief.

"Really, Daddy?"

He hugged Patrick around the waist and cradled that banner in his arms for the rest of the night, repeatedly thanking his Daddy for picking it out, just for him.

Click.

Feeling Hot, Hot, Hot.

2011-07-20T18:35:00.004-05:00

I was reading Helena's recent post*, and feeling so very, very ungrateful.

Perhaps it's the oppressive heat.

Perhaps it's the inability to breathe without feeling as though I'm inhaling peanut butter.

Perhaps I'm noise-weary from the constant volume that having several extra boys in my house will bring. When it's 100 Farenheit and humidity of some really high percentage that I don't want to check out right now, it's kind of hard to find the joy in the day.

Joy in sweating? Joy in arguing? Joy in the ever-increasing background noises that block my ability to feel any peace? Joy in constantly feeling held down by all of their immediate Needs! Wants! Whines!??

Blech.

Still. I guess I could spin it. I could find the silver lining in the fact that I HAVE 3 healthy children who are physically capable of annoying me to the point of drinking.

There is definitely something to be said about having enough money to turn the a/c on so that it is only Really Warm in the house instead of the Stifling Deadly Inferno that exists outside our windows. Yay for employment and a/c!

If I stretch myself even further, I could find some smidgen of joy in knowing that this heat wave is absolutely temporary. Just as the winter passes, so does summer. I can survive this.

Still.

Still, I'd like to be sweetly singing quiet, poetic praises of our days. I'd love to be capturing the moments on film and in words, holding them in my heart, desiring to remember them.

Instead I cannot wait for this week to be over and just get a BREAK ALREADY from this house, this carpet, these dishes, this tedium! Apparently, I cannot stop the whining, even from my own fingers...

*by the way, if you're not already following Helena, you really, really should. She is lovely and talented and poetic and gracious and one of my newest, truest loves...

**By the BY the way, I'm in Mamapedia today writing about something very similar to this situation. Heh. I appear to make a habit out of pondering about my abilities. Do head over and tell me you love me, won't you?

Say Hallo to Mah Leel Frend...

2011-07-18T14:25:00.009-05:00

Hallo, ladies! Zey call me Mr. Rooter, but zees feels so formal, no? Please, call me Antoine. I want you to feel comfortable around me. Tell me your deepest secrets and most intense desires. I promise, you won't be disappointed!

It was weeth great excitement and mild trepidation that I attended the Midwest Media Summit in Chicago on Saturday. When I opened mah eye,* I could not believe mah luck! 100 beeeutiful women in one room? And all of them yearning to hold me in their hands?
Sidney fell in love with me. It's true! And what can I say to such a lovely woman? Sidney, no matter how far away you are, you will always be close to mah heart, too. Oh-ho-hoh... The memories shared from our moments at the summit will carry me through ze most deesgusting clogs...
... Though I must admit being a beet, how you say? Confus-ed? Yes, confused by zis Tweeeeter everyone was ooohing and aaahing about. Why a tiny screen when you have me, Antoine Rooter, around to entertain your twitchy fingers? Mah confusion has NOTHING to do with my lack of opposable thumbs, deespite vat Miss Tracey likes to claim! I say, Leeeve your life! Do not vaste it twitting and tweeting and chirping like leeetle birdies!
I must confess: I have a zing for zah blondes, too. Miss Melanie.... Mmmm-mmm. She makes my plunger happy.

The women of the table felt the need to compare my plunger size to the size of their, um... Vell. You can fill in the blanks. I was embarrassed, to say the least, especially when they pulled out ze cameras, but never like to deesapoint a woman. I did mah best. They left happily surpirised. ;)
Sigh... Again. It is ze bane of an action figure's existence that we must, how you say, acquiesce to a human's desires. Miss Rita could not control herself. Mah plunger has zees affect on women. I cannot help it!
Who knew zat these "Mommy Bloggers" could exhaust a leetle plastic man so thoroughly? Zey Do! Not! Stop! Enough with ze giggling and tossing and bending of mah arms! Give a plumber a break, ladies!

*Sadly, Mr. Rooter is a one-eyed action figure. We try not to make too much of an issue out of it. He's already self-conscious enough about his, um, "size."

**My own apologies to Mr. Rooter if this post isn't quite as appropriate as they would like. I honestly toned it down. This IS the PG version, believe it or not...

A Cat-Sized Hole in My Heart

2011-07-16T13:00:00.001-05:00

"Does grass have a spirit, Mommy?"

"Um, I don't know..."

"Everything that's alive has a spirit. You said so."

"Yes..."

"Grass is alive. So it must have a spirit."

"It may. I don't know. Nobody really knows."

"Do you think Dakota's spirit is happy, Mommy?"

A-ha! sniff, sniff...

"Yes, baby. I know his spirit is happy..."

"But I still miss him, Mommy."

"Me too, Rinny. Me too."

Files and files of photos like these.

Little snippets of the love she had for Dakota...

Another Post About Corn Fields...

2011-07-15T18:12:00.008-05:00

there's something about the green,
the depth and darkness within the acres of leaves
sharp enough to wound like a paper cut
and strong enough to sustain a nation.

there's something about the massive abundance of an Illinois cornfield
that simply astounds me.
the silence that is so deceptively keen...
the silence that is anything but.

have you ever been so distracted by the beauty of the brightest white moon
that your eyes couldn't remain on the road?
it reflected so brilliantly last night,
illuminating the clouds and streaking the corn stalks
with shadows of silver and hues of blue,
causing my mind to wander and heart to stray...

...to visions of generations of moon-worshippers
dancing beneath and within the moonlight and fertile ground.
it stirred my heart
and the energy of Life and Earth and The Universe
lifted my soul.

I truly yearn to dance in the cornfield in the moonlight...

Friday

2011-07-15T09:31:00.004-05:00

My morning, thus far:

Quick! Put on a bra before the neighbor comes over at 8 am with bags of groceries from their defrosting freezer and sees you braless and in heels!

Gotta break in some shoes for The MidWest Moms Media Summit tomorrow. I don't normally wash dishes in heels and pj's. In fact, I try to stay away from washing dishes, altogether but my family insists on eating every FREAKING day. Nobody likes my idea of skipping food or just eating over the garbage can. Whatever.

Rrrrriiinggg!!! Hello?

Hello! Just calling to make sure Corinne is coming with us to the play today? Didn't Patrick tell you? We're leaving at 9:30!

Looks at clock. 9:05 Sure. No problem.

Awesome.

9:24 No coffee. Rawr.

9:25 See that husband has declared that he is quitting everything including Facebook, cigarettes and his Bejeweled Blitz addiction. Crossing fingers that this is so but not holding my breath, I ignore the irony that he announced his declaration on Facebook.

10:00 Have gotten distracted by all that is shiny and speedy-fast on the Internet and have completely lost my train of thought. Am now immersed in the process of finding phone numbers and money to rearrange Saturday night's plans so that I can stay till the parties are over! We shall see...

This is What Insanity Looks Like

2011-07-11T20:48:00.004-05:00

Insomnia.

I know! It's the topic that keeps on giving.

It was about 2:30 am last night and I changed the channel. Aha! Social Network was on. Hadn't seen that, yet.

Yes, I know that television doesn't help you to fall asleep. It's a stimulant. Got it. No need to remind me. Why do I keep it on, then? Because it's as silent as a tomb if the t.v. is off. And my brain? My brain is annoyingly noisy.

Last night, mere moments after I valiantly switch off the tube and lie back in bed, eagerly awaiting slumber...

Ahhhh... Can't wait to fall asleep. Big day tomorrow! Great America! Can't wait to watch the kids have a blast and feel the wind on my own face. I wish... Wait. What's that noise? Is it the fridge? I bet it's going to break again. Damnit. Wonder if we have to buy a new one? Can we afford that? It's awfully expensive. We couldn't possibly have enough money to buy a new fridge AND go on the vacations we've got planned. We shouldn't spend so much. We definitely have to start saving like maniacs RIGHT NOW. Why is Patrick always asleep when I have these revelations? Gah. He's snoring, too. Is that a new rattle to his snore? I wonder if he's developing a reaction to all of the years of smoking?

I put my head on his chest and listen.

His heart sounds... healthy? How the hell is a heart supposed to sound?!? And how am I supposed to HEAR it over his damn snoring? God. What if he died? What if he died right now, in our bed, and I have to live without him for decades? And raise the kids alone? Oh My God. He has to STOP SMOKING. Right NOW.

Nudge, nudge, smack.

Of course, we're all going to die. I'm okay with that. I just want to be the first one to go. Do I really have the strength to live after any of my family dies? Mothers and Wives do it all the time, even though it should be impossible. I need to stop focusing on anything that isn't about happiness! Why do we all fret over appearances and routines and the STUPIDITY of society when we should be wildly spinning in fields of daisies or climbing ancient trees and being FREAKING PEACEFUL!!! Nervous twiddling of fingers.... Holy Shit, I have to change the topic! Watermelon, watermelon, watermelon...

Why can't I Just SLEEP?? I want to sleep. I do! hums a little lullaby... I remember when I sang that lullaby to Evan. Such a sweet baby! Never slept alone, though. Still doesn't! I shift to avoid Evan's stinky foot which has crept up to my face because, naturally, he AND Corinne are in our bed. We really should have sprung for that King Sized bed. I mean, Pat's 6'5". Why did we go for the Queen, anyway? Oh yeah. The cost!

And I'm back to money issues and the circle and cycle spins on and on and on...

What Comes Around

2011-07-08T06:06:00.001-05:00

Whose idea was it to teach these kids to have minds of their own?

Oh yeah.

That was a brilliant parenting move...

And I quote:

"Just because that's true* for EVERYONE else in the WORLD, doesn't mean it's true for ME! I like being different! I LIKE BEING WEIRD!"

Really.

What do I say to that? My heart's desire for Justin to have an independent mind has turned around and bitten me on my proverbial Mommy ass.

My 12 year old knows his own mind. The irony that his mind tends to disagree with every single idea that MY mind happens to have is not lost upon me. I'm sure my own mother is loving the payback I am receiving these days...

*This statement includes, but is not limited to: hair brushing, clothing choices, books to read, polite behavior, cleanliness, voice volume, food, music, enjoyable activities, amount of sleep a normal person requires, amount of activity a normal person requires, responsibilities, privileges, ways to not aggravate your mother, methods of learning math/language/any other educational skill, and on, and on, and on....

Relief and Remorse

2011-07-06T09:26:00.001-05:00

I had a pregnancy scare.

I'm not. No baby.

Whew!

And I realized, "Whew? I am relieved? I am relieved! When did that happen?"

When did I cross over to this side of parenting? I am... content. I am content to be a family of 5 with no future children on the horizon.

No more babies?

No more babies.

No more sleepy nursing nuzzles at 2 am while the family sleeps in my bed all jumbled in tangles of limbs and blankets.

Strollers and car seats and pacifiers and slings are all packed. I have even given some away. When a woman walked off with my exersaucer at last year's garage sale, I reasoned that I could always buy another one, if the need should arise.

The need won't arise.

I've known this. I've KNOWN this, for many, many years. Patrick has made it crystal clear that our family is FIVE and that is all that we can afford: financially and emotionally. I agree. I DO. I always have.

But.

I held that thought. That dream. That vision that surprises happen and life doesn't usually follow our plans. "We'll see...." I thought in my mind. Many, many times...

This year has allowed me freedom from the physical needs that little ones require. Freedom to sit and read. Freedom to visit with friends in the evening without worry about schedules and naps and the encumbering requirements that encompass parenting an infant. Freedom to think of a future for myself without including "and baby/child" after every scenario.

It's kind of.... nice.

Sort of.

It's nice like the day after Christmas is nice. Bittersweet, full of fresh memories that you desperately attempt to cling to, knowing that the pictures and words won't EVER fully capture the magic of the moment.

It's nice like coming home after a much-anticipated and extremely enjoyed vacation; You're exhausted and sunburnt, with overflowing luggage and tons of laundry to wash. You're wistful that it was over so very, very quickly but glad to be home to start living everyday life again, with hopes of another adventure on the horizon. Yet, you wonder if any trip will ever be as magical as that special vacation most definitely was.

There's an ache in my heart at letting go of this period in our lives. There will always be tears that can be shed in a moment of silence... Because raising our babies and toddlers was so incredibly special for me that I can't fathom what my life will be like with 10, 15, 20 years of space between It and where I live and breathe right now. Will I be able to remember the sweetness of their small hands in mine? The way his hair smelled after the sprinklers and grass and sunshine were stirred up into those golden curls? Will I truly remember the feel of a sleeping baby on my chest? Warm and trusting, with no desires besides my love?

Sigh... I think I need some chocolate for breakfast. Chocolate, coffee and a good cry...

Thankfully, The Zombie Apocalypse isn't predicted anytime soon...

2011-07-03T09:33:00.005-05:00

Should the Zombie Apocalypse ever infiltrate Chicago, my boys will definitely be ready for them. You may not be able to tell, but I'm told that that's a serious machine gun my 9 year is toting...
Our first time to "The Bean" in Millennium Park. Lived here my whole life and I've never seen it. Can't say that, anymore...
Justin's words: "The Taste of Chicago was the BEST DAY I've ever had in Chicago!!" High praise from my 12 year old. Pictured eating a chocolate dipped, walnut coated frozen banana from The Fudge Pot that was TO DIE FOR. The two of us barely finished it together!
If The Original Rainbow Cone ever wants me to endorse their products, I have 2 kids who would be MORE than happy to oblige. Those cones were WORTH the 8 tickets they cost at The Taste. Absolutely.
My heart grew 3 sizes yesterday when Corinne used her Barnes and Noble gift card to buy The Diary of a Wimpy Kid Do It Yourself Book for Evan. And Evan's been WRITING IN IT since she gave it to him! Be still, my heart...
I was SO HAPPY (insert sarcasm here) to find out that Patrick had purchased a gigantic box of smoke bomb thingies(don't ask me the technical name). I'm sure our neighbors appreciated the sulfuric odors, too.
Seriously, it was FOUL.
But nothing screams "Yay, America!" more loudly than a bunch of children running around with flaming sticks.

I'm definitely proud to be an American, especially since I can't fathom calling French Fries "chips". That would just suck. No offense to my British readers, but that's simply weird!

Happy Fourth of July, everybody!

*Garden Update: My garden is still ALIVE! Corinne has been helping out by watering it religiously and we ate our first tomato from one of the plants. Question: am I supposed to pick the oregano whenever I want some, or only at a certain time? Also, it's flowering. Is that bad?

Because I don't want that picture up at the top anymore...

2011-06-30T08:16:00.003-05:00

Here's a much better pic. A "Cool Dog Ice Cream Treat". It was.... different. My kids liked them, though.

Messy but full of potentially compromising photo ops...

Wordless Wednesday

2011-06-29T04:30:00.000-05:00

Dakota Bear
4/96-6/27/11

We'll miss you, you crazy cat.
Have fun knocking over glasses of water
and chasing beer caps in heaven...

This Sucks.

2011-06-27T07:23:00.005-05:00

You never think ahead to the moment you'll have to say goodbye. When you're holding that squirming kitten or puppy in your arms, you can only envision the beginning; the good times. You never pause to consider what you'll go through when the pet you've owned for 15 years begins a rapid decline.I've never been on this side of pet loss. You know, as The Adult. The person who is supposed to make decisions and be strong for the kids. Dakota is still with us but Patrick and I are having the discussions this week about who to call and when to do it... and how to tell the kids.They know. We've been talking to them about his impending demise for about 2 or 3 months. It's been obvious that his body weight has began to rapidly drop off and his activity level this past week has made a sharp change. It was this morning, when I was bringing him a bowl of water and I spilled some on his head and he didn't even move to clean himself off, that it really hit home for me: My cat is dying.

The cat I've never liked too much (he eats plastic, pees on everything and would stand at the bedroom door meowing for as long as it takes for you to get out of your cozy bed and let him in) but have obviously loved. He has been more like a dog who fetches and plays than a cat that sat out of your reach. He's been the life friend of our other cat who will likely be lost without him and the playmate for Corinne when her baby dolls just aren't lifelike enough.He's a part of our family and this really, absolutely sucks.

Can't even think up a proper title...

2011-06-24T16:43:00.004-05:00

I have felt so unmotivated lately.

I start a project, hoping to "get into it" only to find myself wandering the house aimlessly, project half finished and being scattered about by the children.

Patrick called me today on his way home from work to go show a couple of houses for his "hobby" as a realtor. (Obviously, he's pulling more weight in this family than I am...)

"Whatcha doin?"

"Meh. Just painting a stool."

"A stool? You're painting a stool?"

"I had no desire to accomplish anything important today, AGAIN, so I built the stool that's been sitting unassembled on my shelf. Since I had some blue paint, I started to paint it. So I'm painting a stool."

"Oh."

End conversation.

I KNOW. Riveting stuff, right?

There isn't anything wrong, I'm just... Meh. The sun hasn't been out, so I haven't been out. The kids are missing their friends that moved and have been grumpy and listless, so I'm grumpy and listless. And I'm unable to enjoy any project I'm working on, no matter how many I begin. I mean, USUALLY when I hack away at the growth that is our front "garden", I walk away from it feeling like a superstar! You should see the amount of vegetation I'm referring to - it's phenomenal. This week though? After 2 hours of clipping branches and pulling weeds and pruning flowers? Nothing.

No joy.

No pride.

Just... Meh.

I need a shot or a pill or something. It should probably be legal but I'm almost willing to try something that borders on the edge, just to pull me out of my funk and back into appreciating every single day I get to live on this Earth...

An Update

2011-06-21T10:34:00.003-05:00

As a mom that homeschools, summer is my time to regroup, reorganize and rethink what and how I plan on teaching the next school year. So my past few days have been spent building shelving and pulling everything into one spot on my living room floor. There are piles and stacks and boxes and random pamphlets and scraps of paper with Brilliant Ideas scrawled across them. I am surrounded by clutter consisting of glitter, screwdrivers, flash cards and empty packing boxes. Add the recent Absolute Grounding of my middle child (don't ask) and I have had scarce little time to be online.

Amuse yourself with photos from our Father's Day BBQ at my parents' house. We had an absolute BLAST.
Justin's gotten SO BIG. I cannot believe that he's exactly as tall as I am...
Dads are experts at flinging children over their heads.
Patrick got quite the work out on Sunday! He tossed all 3 of my kids and a cousin to boot...
I was there! See me?
The Man I love. Happy Father's Day, indeed, baby.

The things they say..

2011-06-17T04:53:00.002-05:00

How long have I been parenting? 12 years? You'd think I'd know better by now...

~~~~
Scene: Red minivan. Driving somewhere. Doing something. Can't remember. Doesn't really pertain to the "scene" anyway...
~~~
Evan: Remember when I didn't know how to say "asphalt?"

Me: No.

Evan: You don't remember? You don't remember what I used to call it?

Me: No.

Evan: It was so funny. And so BAD. You really don't remember?? (grinning devilishly)

Me: No. (You'd think I would have caught on, but I actually said the next line.) What did you call it?

Evan: It's bad. It's reallllly bad.

Me: (finally interested enough to turn down the radio) Do tell. What did you call asphalt?

Evan: (with incredibly well-timed, dramatic flair) Oookay. You said I could say it...

Me: (looking in rear-view mirror)

Evan: I used to call asphalt.... Ass-Cock.

Me: (guffawing) Yeah. That IS realllly bad...This is where I wish I could blame public school for his mouth. Sadly, it's all on our shoulders...

Me and My Big Mouth

2011-06-16T04:22:00.005-05:00

This is what happens when you pat yourself on the back.

You end up with 3 children who are so outrageously misbehaved that you split in half and lose your ever-loving mind* and strip the entire household of screen privileges. No tv, video games, DS, or computer.

No computer. Entire Household.

Yeah. Slightly idiotic move on one mother's part.
(raises hand) (briskly slaps herself with it)

But we've been... quieter. Slower. CLEANER (yay!). We've been playing more board games and riding our bikes. There've still been oodles of arguments and I have taken to being incredibly stricter and swifter on punishments, but it's working. Shhhh....

So, if I don't get to your email too quickly or read your blog for another week or post a response on Facebook to something wonderful or horrible, this is the reason. I pray the lesson I'm hoping to instill takes root.
*what does 'ever-loving' even mean? I guess I could Google it. Meh. Not inclined. But why do I write it if I don't know what it means? It fit for the situation, though. Even though there wasn't much love in my heart at that moment.

I Want to Bottle This Day and Sell it Like Crack

2011-06-13T19:21:00.007-05:00

Ever have a day where you look back and wonder at the awesomeness that is yourself?

Not to pat myself on the back too hard, but damn! I had an accomplished day! Especially since it was all just off the cuff. Even more amazing when you realize that, at 9:03 am, I was relaxing with a cup of coffee while my children slept in. At 9:04, my Facebook status read:

Ahhhh.. the first really unscheduled day of our summer! We are doing NOTHING and going NOWHERE...

And then, at 9:05 I realized that it was MONDAY and that Mondays in June mean basketball camp for Evan!!

I do believe I shouted a few profanities at this point.

Shockingly enough, all children were awake, dressed and fed by 9:55 so that I was walking out the door with Evan, Corinne and a bag of activities to occupy Corinne. Evan wasn't crying about camp and I was cautiously optimistic that he would make it through the class without getting upset and quitting. (Last week's class was a Parenting Fail. Let's just leave it at that.)

ANYway! Many shots were made, balls were dribbled and sweaty smiles were beamed at me from the court. I was incredibly impressed with myself, even though I hadn't showered and the mother next to me was looking quite lovely with her 4 perfectly coiffed children. Sigh... This was the only bump in the day though...

The day continued to be marvelous. I cleaned the counter that had begun to require its own zip code and found several pairs of missing sunglasses and nail clippers. I walked with all 3 kids to the park and then around the block just for the hell of it! (I KNOW!) Justin and I took our first nightly bike ride to encourage living a healthier lifestyle. I dog-eared several pages of Melisa's book, Chicken in the Car and the Car Won't Go, so that I can find the spots we want to visit this summer. Dishes were washed! TWICE! I watched Patrick and Corinne play soccer in the backyard while I weeded our garden. Kids have showered! Laundry has been done! I agreed to letting Evan have a friend sleep over because the house is moderately clean-ish and I am in a good mood. I even COOKED DINNER. All in the same day!

Somebody tell me what I did correctly. PLEASE. Please tell me what happened last night or this morning or with the moon that allowed me to end the day (it's only 7:34!) feeling so accomplished!! What is different? How do I replicate this forward-motion emotion?*

Alas, alas, alas**, Life is never that easily controlled or created. Today was today and tomorrow will be tomorrow...

*I think I need to trademark that line: Forward-Motion Emotion. I LOVE IT.

**Heh. It's still funny!

~~~
Garden 2011 Status: Nothing is dead. This is remarkable. A few wimpy weeds dared to make their presence known and met a fate worse than death. Well, maybe not WORSE than death, since they were merely tossed over the edge of the fencing to the grass where they will most likely re-root and grow again. But I WEEDED, damnit. This should be accounted for.

I Blame The Bloggess...

2011-06-10T05:20:00.005-05:00

Seriously.

I mean, I hadn't had insomnia for a while until she posted about her own fumbling speech after sleeping became simply a "nice idea." I even had the audacity to remark to myself that I was So Glad that I'd been sleeping so well, lately!

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid Blogger! (smacks face into keyboard) (karma laughs)

The absolutely deafening cracks of thunder at 2:13 am didn't aid my slumber, either. Nor did the catapulting, quaking children that launched themselves onto my bladder shortly thereafter.

I settled the arguing youngest 2 (they honestly argued in their sleep) and flicked on the tube. Not that I could hear much above the rumbling outside my window or the jabbering inside my head. I let the infomercial follow my own internal narrative.

"Buy Zumba! You too will dance your ass back into its pre-child existence! In fact, you will dance yourself into a BETTER ass! One like ME! A professional dancer who claims to NOT be a professional dancer so that you will buy my Salsa dance video which is NOT a workout dvd set. Oh, no, no, no. It is DANCING so it is FUN so you will LOVE IT and lose weight without even sweating! Look at me; I am DANcing and I am not SWEATing! Come shake your bootie with us for the low, low cost of $99.95 (plus a piddly $45.99 shipping and handling). BUY IT TRACEY! YOU NEED IT! BUY BUY BUY!!"

Flip.

(I have workout dvds. They are in my cabinet. I'm sure they would work if I would, you know, continue to DO THEM.)

Selena was on which makes me cry every time. Her dad loves her! Her friends love her! Everyone loves her and she is still taken advantage of and MURDERED by a trusted fan!! I cannot handle true stories like that. Especially on 4 hours of sleep.

Flip.

Julie and Julia popped up. THIS is a story I can handle! A movie about a blogger who talks to famous people in her head and somehow becomes famous? It's like watching myself on late night cable. Except I am not a cute red-head who writes a cooking blog that becomes so huge that she has books and a movie about her. I also never lived above a pizzeria in New York. Other than that? We're like twins.

I Dream of Veggies

2011-06-07T07:36:00.004-05:00

School is out and so is the sun. It's like Mother Nature realized she had left Spring on for too long and flipped the switch to Ultra Summer. It's HOT and SUNNY and I am grateful that we can afford the a/c this year!

This summer should also be interesting due to the fact that our next door neighbors are moving to Florida today. They were the neighbors that always lent me vanilla and watched my children at a moment's notice. My daughter's best friend since infancy and Evan's friend since he was 4 were their children and the gap that losing these friendships will leave is palpable. It's only 7:45 am and Corinne has already sighed TWICE that "..it's such a shame they had to move; they were good neighbors." So, if any of you have young kids and are looking for an affordable 3 bedroom home in the Far Southwest suburbs of Chicago*, please contact me. We need another set of Good Neighbors. Especially ones that stay stocked in vanilla.

At least we have my new GARDEN to keep my kids occupied:Evan, Corinne and I went to Ace yesterday and picked up tomatoes, peppers, oregano, parsley, and basil. I'm calling it our "Spaghetti Garden". After all of the work that we put into turning that sod over, hauling the dirt around and installing the fencing (mostly Patrick on that one), I can guarantee that we WILL harvest some vegetables this year. I had no idea how difficult it would be to set it up! All I can say is THANK YOU to my awesome husband for working all day long on Sunday. I LOVE IT! I continually peek out my window to check on it. Unfortunately, a garden is also a lesson in patience. This will be a tricky one for me. I even DREAMED about waking up this morning to find that the tomatoes had all sprouted 2 feet overnight.

Yep. I dreamed about vegetables. Feel free to inject the proper sarcastic remarks as you see fit.

*by "of Chicago" I mean "within 45 minutes of driving" because that's how we roll in Northern Illinois.

I got nothing but photo ops.

2011-06-02T17:11:00.009-05:00

Not a single, solitary witty word is left within me.

Feel free to suggest captions for the following photos. I may or may not give appropriate credit where it is due, depending on how the mood strikes me. Right now my mood is screaming "BITCHY! DON'T BRING ANY PUPPIES WITHIN KICKING DISTANCE!" so I wouldn't get my hopes up too high if I were you.

Enjoy.Indy 500. No kids. Beer.

Chevy Tahoe. Also no kids. Alas, no beer. Alas, it is no longer mine to use...
(Now say "alas" several times in a row. It brings a smile to my face...)

Memorial Day 2011

The Tahoe again...

"NO! i do Not want to Play Right Now"
She may not always be friendly, but at least she can spell.

Chicago's Millennium Park and Art Institute field trip

Several cartwheels. No head injuries.

"I am too cool to play in a water fountain. I am TWELVE. Du-uuuhhh!"

Hmmm. I found a few captions, after all. This is what happens when Blogger requires so damn long to download (upload?) photos.

Also, it appears as though I missed my 5 year blogaversary. I had plans people. PLANS. This only adds to my overall bitchiness tonight. This calls for wine. Alas, alas, alas....

When you live in MY house, you live by MY rules!

2011-05-26T06:50:00.004-05:00

I KNOW. Can you believe I stooped that low? I can't.

I mean, it's the ultimate cliche phrase; the one I'd sworn against my entire life.

"If you utter That Phrase, you are just asking for your child to yell back 'Then I'm OUT of here!' as they run off to Vegas."

(That? That is what I used to consider MY phrase.)

And now? I'm the cliche-slinging, ranting mother who stomped her foot at her 12 year old and called out "Bullshit!" when he proclaimed to not need to help clean the house and that HE didn't CARE if it was messy.

BULL. SHIT.

Yep. Mommy has left the building and MOTHER has entered.

In my defense, there really is only so much a person can handle. I can handle daily chores. I can handle a little sigh as they have to pause a show or game or book in order to put clothing away or take the garbage out. I GET IT. It's not fun to do housework. OBVIOUSLY.

But what I don't understand is how I have arrived at this stage in my life where my boys are combative about ANY chore or basic duty that a human being needs to accomplish. I'm astounded.

And I actually threatened* to take ALL clothing but 2 shirts and 2 pants from Justin's room so that he is always doing his own laundry and always knows where his shit is. I am sick and tired of being the only person in this house that can find a clean shirt** or pair of socks***.

I'll bet all of your kids are just JUMPING at the chance to visit my house, right?!?

*(and am still considering following up on!)

**(in the drawer! Shocking!)

***(I looked in the sock basket because I'm all Sherlock Holmes-ish like that)

Sex Radar and Monster Dreams

2011-05-20T09:29:00.002-05:00

I was busily trying to simultaneously clear away the wrappings of the day, wrangle Justin off of the computer and herd the entire group up the stairs to bed when I heard a quiet sobbing behind me. There at the kitchen table sat my baby girl, all 5 years of her, pouring out the most heart-wrenching tears you've ever seen.

"I'm afraid! I don't want any more bad dreams! Please don't make me sleep in my room!!"

My heart dropped and my eyes met Patrick's in dread as we cringed and thought "Not another one!"

I cuddled and coddled and read to her. I tucked her in with fluffy doggies and bears and blankets. I stroked her back and sang 20 minutes of songs, humming over any negative words lest they evoke anything unhappy in her pre-sleep brain. She drifted into a defeated doze, her tears wetting my shirt and hair.

My first attempt at escaping her bed and meeting Patrick alone after an entire night of come-hither looks was thwarted by her sweaty and desperate hand. She jerked awake, clutched my shirt and desperately began to whimper "I want to sleep with you! Please, Mommy, Please!"

Rinse and repeat. And repeat.

40 minutes later and I managed to MacGyver roll myself off of her creaky bed and down the hall to my waiting husband.

It was so nice to just be alone with him. The stress of the kids, friends, and just overall life was starting to wear me down. I simply needed to don only one title, "wife", for a while.

Alas, my children have sex-radar in their brains. Within 20 minutes, not one, not two, but ALL THREE of them were at our door, asking questions. One was crying. Another sleep-walking into the wall. The final begging to sleep on our floor.

Pat and I looked at each other. "I love you," he said. "...and I love our kids. I love our kids. I love our kids..." he repeated as short people invaded our sanctuary.

I love you too, babe. I love them a lot; truly. But I LOVE YOU like no other.

I am not quite rested enough to concoct another quirky post title...

2011-05-19T07:16:00.007-05:00

My children didn't understand why I was in such a bitchy mood yesterday. Well, bitchier than usual. They didn't know that a late night of wine and beer with good friends on a Tuesday might leave their mama with a smidge of a headache...

Rita, Ellyn, Brandie, Farrah, Sabrina

Me & Lou

They didn't realize that I was preoccupied the entire day, wondering how my friend was going to do in surgery.* Grasp each of those ingredients in a viselike grip, shake them together until they are fizzing and bubbling like this science experiment we did...
...and you will have an adequate visual of the contents of my brain on Wednesday.

Today began with dreary clouds and drizzles but I am definitely in a much merrier frame of mind.

* Brandie made it through surgery. She's in a lot of pain but healing. Thank you for all of the lovely comments on her blog! She was so happy on Tuesday night!

Dozens of Hands and Hearts

2011-05-16T15:30:00.002-05:00

Do you know anyone who is truly genuine? Anyone who is honestly a Good Person without being annoying? I know someone like that. She may disagree, but trust me; she's the Real Deal.

Back in April of 2010, I was fortunate enough to go on a fabulous trip sponsored by the CVB of Galena. It was there that I met 6 women (I already knew Kim!) who honestly made the trip 1000% more fun. One person who quickly graduated from "strange person I am spending 48 consecutive hours with" into "Friend" was Brandie from A Journey of 1000 Stitches Begins With Just One... We initially bonded over our homeschooling family connection but continued on to become Friends because we make each other laugh and don't care about perfection. (Though, secretly, I think she's a little too kind-hearted to be my friend. Please don't let her know! I don't have too many genuine friends!)

Galena, IL, 04/2010

So, it was with an extremely saddened heart that I learned of her recent diagnosis of breast cancer. She is in her early 30's and lives one of those Organic-Healthy lives that would indicate that she should be "safer" than the rest of us, you know? Unfortunately, none of us is safe when it comes to the Bastard that is Cancer.

April 2010, winning a new washer and dryer from the Kenmore Live Studio Grand Opening in Chicago. We were so excited for her because her own washer had just gone Kaput!

January 2011 at the Chicago Wolves game with her daughters

What the hell, right? I am still in the "Angry" phase of her diagnosis. I am ROYALLY pissed off and have taken to saying the words "Fucking Cancer" to my husband several times a day, usually while throwing laundry around. It won't be long before my 5 year old begins to chant it, I'm sure...

Me and Brandie kissing Amy Mueller at the latest GCBM lunch.

What to do for someone who has to deal with this? No words, no gifts, no card will make it "better". I can't send her a personal housekeeper and chef along with a physical therapist to live in her home to ease her pain and speed her recovery.

But I can, as a fellow blogger, wield the one small power I have. I can ask each of you to pause a moment and send her a prayer. I can go one further and ask you to inundate her blog with heart-felt comments of love and encouragement before she undergoes her first surgery on Wednesday. I can ask you all to please remember Brandie and her husband and 3 young children on Wednesday, this week and the coming year as she undergoes many medical procedures and they all undergo a very stressful time in their lives. I know she will beat this f#cking cancer and surface with an even stronger heart than she had before. But it's always nice to begin one's journey with dozens of hands and hearts holding you up.

Brandie, I love you, honey. I will continue to think of you and your family every day. I pray for a smooth surgery and peaceful recovery...

Also, Happy Birthday, Brandie!!

You can also donate to the Susan G Komen Race for the Cure in Brandie's name or in the name of all women who must battle breast cancer. We WILL find a way to beat this disease. We HAVE TO.

My friend Rita is donating $1 for every comment (up to $100) that she receives today on her current post in Brandie's honor. Head on over there, too!