Today's weather was awesome.
It was a picture perfect March day. Chilly, but not cold. Windy as all get-out (whatever that means) and sunny.
Today held a lot of promise.
Abby is looking forward to the "slimeys" coming up out of the earth, as soon as the ground is warm enough. But she and Wyatt took some time this afternoon to try to speed the process along, digging and digging with their giant sand shovels into 1 inch of mud to only find more frozen ground. Sorry I don't have any pictures of that, but take my word for it - it was messy.
And leave it to Wyatt to walk through, fall in and proceed to splash around in the biggest mud puddle he could find.
If he doesn't have pneumonia tomorrow I will consider this day a success.
I did have the foresight to take a few pics of the kids as we walked up to Jody's this afternoon, though. And these pics really sum up the day very well.

"Ma, did you see that bird?!"


"I can push this thing myself, I don't need a stinkin' ride!"


"We're off to see the Wizard..."


just strolling...

What am I supposed to do with a closet full of gowns that I will never wear again??
Some of them have sentimental value, most of them were expensive and none of them will ever come into play in my wardrobe again. A- they will never fit and B- they are either out of date or were never in style in the first place.
I called the Consignment Shop and they don't take them.
I have seen ads for those give-away parties for girls who can't afford prom dresses and I have considered that - but I don't want to just drop them off in a black hole, never knowing if they will be worn again. But why not?
Why do I hold onto these dumb things that take up LOTS of space in my closet?
Same question for all my shoes and boots. I have lots, I wear a lot but I have a lot that I don't wear. But if they are perfectly good or hold sentimental value, I hold onto them. Why?
I even have shoes that are not in the best shape, maybe they are ridiculously uncomfortable - but I think "well, they are my only pair quite like that and I may need them for a certain outfit some day and then won't I be sorry I got rid of them!?"
Anyway... one day I will organize my closet with properly built shelves and drawers and will have to face these questions head on. For now, I will continue to work around them and wear the 4 things that stay towards the front.

This is the part of winter that I hate.
The dull, lifeless, lack-of-decoration, dirty snow,
cold but not freezing or snowing,
muddy but not the nice, spring mud that hints at buds and life,
yucky, boring,
come-on-Spring-you-can-do-it,
end of winter that just seals the winter blahs...

Way Back Wednesday

This picture is from October, 2006 -
the after-party of Abigail's Baptism.
(Complete Coincidence, Gini).

I like it because it pictures my aunties - Carol, Frannie and Reenie (l-r)

Three
more different,
more loving,
more inspiring,
more amazing
women
have never been
in the same room together
ever.

According to BabyTalk magazine (which I read the PAPER version of each month), I am an Internet Addict.
I'm shocked.
Who knew?!

My beautiful girl's birthday portraits:

This is so brilliant, I don't have to be tonight!
Enjoy:

Dear Carolyn: Best friend has child. Her: exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, ect. Me (no kids): What'd you do today? Her: Park, play group.....
OK, I've talked to parents, I don't get it. What do stay-at-home-moms do all day? Please no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners ... I do all those things, too. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail? I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events); I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy, but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth? Is this a contest ("my life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and without kids and all us child-free folks have the same questions.

-Tacoma, Wash.



Dear Tacoma: Relax and enjoy. You're funny.

Or, you're lying about having friends with kids.

Or, you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.

I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand, while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are either lying or competing with you, is disingeneous indeed.

So, because it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, cleaned, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries, questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys, and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces checkout-line screaming.

It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15.

It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.

It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family and freinds. It's resisting constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.

It's doing all this while con-currently teaching virtually everything - language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity. Empathy. Everything.

It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spend all day, every day, with this brand of joy, and then, when you got your first ten minutes to yourself, wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend, a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you or marvel how much more productively she uses her time. Either make a sincere effort to understand, or keep your snit to yourself.

THANK YOU, CAROLYN!

I made about 12 pounds of Cutlets this afternoon. I turned some into Chicken Parm (3 dinners worth, actually - delivered one tray to a friend who just had a new baby) and saved a bunch to bring to Tono's house on Sunday. My back hurts and I smell like a Fry-o-lator but it's all good. Who doesn't love cutlets, right?

Yesterday I made "Spring Onion Soup". Pictured here:

It was simple and delicious. I love making soup, you just can't screw it up.

Tonight I will make Lasagna Soup and Brownie Bites.

The thing is, I make it all by hand - no cheating, no boxes or pre-cuts or anything like that... it's made with love.
I am not against using cheats or pre-cuts - when those easier ways are on sale or I am pinched for time, I'm all for them. But I had planned on and enjoyed this little cooking marathon and it ain't over yet!

While sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, playing with her 4 Thumbelina Fairy Dolls, Abby proclaimed with some surprise, "I can't see my chin."
The 4 dolls, it is worth noting, are named "Kathleen, Sami and Abby" and the 4th doll, also a Thumbelina but bigger, with real hair not just the plastic, painted on kind, is named "Tono".

My friend, Jay, has a blog. I have mentioned it before but I am mentioning it again because he recently posted about Facebook and what he wrote was exactly how I feel... or felt... or am feeling. Anyway, it's worth a read.

Abby's new thing is that she likes to give me presents. She wraps up her little toys in other little stuff and says "this is for you, mommy, open it!". And when I do, I am, of course, overjoyed! Then she sasks that I give her a gift and I wrap the same treasure up in the same package and give it back to her with equal enthusiasm. She opens it, clutches it to her chest and exclaims "oh, mommy, I looooove it! GENKGOO SO MUCH!!"
It really is a fun game. An example of a gift is a tiny Cinderella doll wrapped in Wyatt's sock... or a Barbie wrapped in a purse. The list goes on, if it fits inside something, it is a suitable gift.

Wyatt has many new words and his love of all things Elmo, Ming-Ming and Yo Gabba goes on.
His vocabulary grows every day and now, in addition to the basics, he very clearly screams:
"Ahloon!" (Balloon)
"Aggie!" (Maggie)
"Kitty"
"Ming Ming"
"A-llo" (Hello)
"Juice"
"Anana" (banana)
And, in addition to the words he already mastered and these new ones, he has become quite proficient at pointing out and/or showing us exactly what he wants. He is a demanding little booger.

He and Abby play together amazingly well. Sure, it often turns to tears - he pulls her hair or she takes something he was playing with. But I find that if I ignore the initial cry, it stops and they move on. And the laughter that comes from that playtime - man, it makes my heart grow two sizes too big.

So, I haven't blogged in a while and there is good reason for that - allow me to explain:

We took a family Valentines Day trip to Boston for the weekend. You can get the Losh POV here, as well as some pics. So rather than reinvent the wheel, I will just leave it as "we had an awesome time and cannot wait till our next adventure."

Me, being me, I have already began to plan the next adventure. It didn't take much since it has become our "Annual Easter Trip" but still, researching hotels is always fun.
And, if you have known me for 10 minutes, you know I can't pass up a deal.
So - combine all these little tidbits and you have me planning our next weekender to NYC, Easter Weekend, staying at the Millennium Hilton, earning points (or even staying for free with our points!) and then heading to Queens for Easter Sunday.
This hotel looks awesome. Check it.

I also got to thinking about taking the Quarterly on the road this summer... and I plan to bring it up at our next session.
What does everyone think about a Quarterly-Annual-Camping-Trip?!

Anyhoo - we got home Sunday afternoon and Jay went to get the dogs. They, too, spent the weekend away. We have been kenneling our dogs for as long as we have had them. We had the fortunate experience of finding this particular kennel when the one we had been going to was "ripe with Kennel Cough".
The owner of our current kennel has a terrific reputation as a sort of "dog whisperer" and he did, indeed, help us train Maggie in her younger years when she was a much more excitable (read- "kookoo") pup.
Our previous kennel was fine, I would recommend them, too. But they are very expensive. And this kennel is less expensive and they truly seem to love our dogs. They remember them and treat them with love and cuddles, like we do.
The other kennel was good and reputable, but not cuddly, and that's an important quality, I think.

Sunday night we had tacos for dinner, gave the kids a bath and we all went to sleep, normal-shmormal.
Then, around 3am I woke up. Sick. S. I. C. K.
Fucking tacos.
I went back to sleep but at 4 when I went for Round 2, I began to wonder if it was the tacos...
At 5 and again at 7am, I realized this went deeper than tacos. (Not that I have any plans to eat them again any time soon, at least I know I can... when I can... you know what I mean.)
When the kids started waking up and I tried to, I realized my head weighed about 700 pounds and my entire body ached. I muttered to Jay about being sick, he said "I know" (I guess he heard) and he got up and got the kids.
I will spare you the gory details here, folks, but I have to say this much:
My husband was SUPER-DAD and SUPER-HUSBAND on Monday. And I was SUPER-SICK. He took care of me, kept my germs at bay, took care of the kids, kept the noise and the chaos away from me (even the pets), called the doctor, rubbed my back, filled my prescription, went grocery shopping, continued to care for the kids, continued to care for me, continued to keep my germs at bay, brought me Gatorade and Pain Medication (it was that bad) on a Breakfast-in-Bed Tray that had not been opened since I received it at my Bridal Shower (thanks, Monica & Sue!) and all the while I never heard him lose his patience or get aggravated. I'm sure he did - we do on a normal day, it's fine - but if I had heard it, he knows that would have added to my agony.
I was in pain, I was sick, I couldn't sleep and to top it off, I couldn't see my kids because the last thing we wanted was for them to catch this "highly contagious, keep her out of the office and away from people" virus that had latched onto me. And that man, my love, my best friend and favorite guy in the world, he held it all together like a pro.
I'm sure he got nothing done. No schoolwork, no work-work. Forget relaxation.
But I was better the next day.
And today, I am back to normal.
We de-germified the house and life has resumed normalcy. *knock on wood*

Today is Wednesday and as I said, life is relatively calm again. I know I am forgetting some good stuff on this Blog but it's getting long so let me leave you with this:

• Wyatt is in love, and I mean L.O.V.E. with Ming-Ming.
• It is snowing again, which is a good thing because it was bound to happen and it's prettier to have a fresh bit of snow than to see all the actual dog shit that has been piling up out there for the past few months.
• I have waited to be totally germ-free before I begin my marathon of cooking, in case anyone who will be eating it is reading this, I am starting tomorrow - haven't touched a thing yet.
• I am cooking: "Spring Onion Soup", "Lasagna Soup" and "Chicken Parm". I may make cookies, too.
• Today marks the end of "Week One" of my diet. My "seriously, fattie, lose some weight" diet. You can follow the day-x-day on the side column of my Blog but I feel good about it so far. When I said I wanted an unhealthy jumpstart, vomitting was not exactly what I had in mind but it works, too.

Ok, gotta go catch up on my other Blogs and Facebook. And I promise, Gini, BLOGS FIRST!!
xo

Way Back Wednesday


l-r: Abigail, Liz, James, Deborah
front: Cara

Some Castle, Scotland, May 2007
Abs and I went trans-continental with Wywy in Utero.

(Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Jay continued to work his ass off to pay for such jaunts!)

New Widget

I just added a free, Google Guestbook to my page. It was free and might prove to be more annoying than it's worth - but I thought it would be a sort of "Dorm Room Whiteboard" thing... in case you don't want to "reply" but want to say hello!

So, we'll try it out for a while, see if you take to it. If not, I will simply remove it and we shall never speak of it again.

**Removed it - it was weird.**

I have very few fond memories of my high school years. Belle & I had fun in our Senior Year, but that is just a small part of that year and doesn't compensate for my near-suicidal first 3 years.
It took me several years to work myself up to actually feel as happy and confident as I had always tried to project myself as.

I am happy now but - and maybe I need counseling or some sort of hypnotism - it doesn't take much for me to regress to that ugly, insecure shell of a girl I once was.

So, for that reason, I have GOT to get myself off of Facebook.
Not completely.

I did begin to enjoy my self and my life post June 1994. And there are plenty of people that I went to high school with that I had roots with that ran deeper than "we graduated together".
But I plan to go through and get rid of anyone that I feel the slightest bit of self-doubt being "friends" with again. I am also going to delete those that I don't really care about (and likely don't care about me - you know the ones - you're only friends because your friends are friends with their friends...)
I have a few that I probably should delete, because things went badly in the end (as they often do when dealing with the drama of being 16) but I won't because the good times were so much better than the bad times were bad.

I am also on the fence about making my Blog private.
It has become somewhat of an intimate journal.
But, if I do that, will I subconsciously tailor how I write to cater to those that I know are reading? Maybe, maybe not. But I know that right now, I write from my heart and with complete, unapologetic honesty.
And I know that I have random, non-commenting, readers that have told me that they read it or have read it and love it. That makes me so happy.
So, for now I will stay public - but I am not allowing anonymous comments anymore. I don't want to be thrown for a loop and sent hurdling back to that fetal position that I spent so many dark years in.

I am focusing on the positive in life. I always do. But it is always a work in progress, ya know?

I think I hit rock bottom.
As you, my loyal readers, are aware - I am quite fat right now. Easily, the fattest I have ever been.

And while admitting this and discussing this on my Blog may seem "brave" or make me seem quite confident or comfortable, I assure you - I am just as insecure and ugly as the rest of you when you feel like a big, fat, ugly pig. I am there.
And as if I didn't know it, I confirmed it today at the Mobil Mart.
Ya see, I was in TJ Maxx and was feeling very light-headed and dizzy. I realized, as I swooned a bit in the frying pan aisle, that I hadn't eaten anything except a tiny little "Healthy Choice" that had consisted of 3 bites of turkey and about 6 ounces of green beans. In addition to that, I had had about 8 cups of coffee. So, the caffeine was finally wearing off and kicking me into starvation mode. I assume my blood sugar was pretty low, hence the dizzy feeling and I knew I had to get something to eat.
Don't feel bad for me. We've all been there. So juiced up on caffeine you forget to eat - come on, you know you do it on purpose form time to time.
So, there I am in Glastonbury, surrounded by every fast food pit you can think of and where do I go?

Mobil Mart.

And what do I eat?
Snowballs.

And what else?
Suzie Q's.

Yeah, you read that right. I raced my fat ass to the nearest crap-store and loaded up on crap.
I was ashamed of myself.
But I did it anyway.

Then, on the drive home, all I could think of was Martha Dumptruck from Heathers. That was me.

The biggest, fattest, ugliest woman in the world.

So - I think that was rock bottom, folks.
I had my Big Binge and now I need to regain Control. I need to turn Weight Watchers into my newest Obsession. I need to turn it into something that I can own, control and obsess over.

I know me, though - so I need to start in a very dramatic fashion, I can't just go "oh, no, I musn't eat that candy! I prefer Carrots and fat-free broth!"
I need to starve myself. Detox, if you will. I need to go zero-to-sixty in 3 seconds. No fucking around. Straight up Starvation.

I will drink coffee, eat carrots (because I do actually like them very much), Saltines and drink water. That's it.
Until I feel "punished".
Then I can get healthy. Only after a quick and unhealthy kick-off will I accept a healthy 2-3 pounds per week.

So - tomorrow is Day One. I cannot wait to feel the hunger.

Way Back Wednesday...

Our first "Walk America", 2006

Now called "March for Babies", this fundraising walk is designed to raise funds (go figure) to make and keep our babies healthy. It really is that simple.

{Can I just say how glad I am that I do this one day after Kim and Gini? That way, I never forget!}

I am going to bore you with this story about my experience at Macy*s today, so brace yourself.
Let me begin by telling you that I loved Filene's and always hated Macy*s, always preferred Filene's. And I come from an area where I had a choice. Then, no more choice. So, I go to Macy*s when I need something department store-esque.

I prefer Baby Gap. I even prefer Gymboree, and I really, really dislike Gymboree.

Anyway - I am looking for a raincoat for Abigail. Preferably with matching boots. I can get a cute set at Gymboree if I want to spend $50, on sale. But I know she won't wear it that often, just a few times and that is the main problem I have with Gymboree - in additon to their over-the-top cutesey-ess, they are ridiculously pricey. Yes, it's very good quality, but if you know the kid will wear something for only one season, how high does the quality have to be?

Anyway... I went to Macy*s. I found nothing. They have ugly, nameless, cheap, thread-hanging, man-handled, messy, disorganized, poorly-stocked, wrongly-signed, straight-up YUCKY clothes.

First, I walked through Men's, because I always like to take a quick peek at the pants and button-down shirts for my husband.
3 fat people were sitting in the comfortable, black leather chairs, laughing and chatting. Only as I walked past them and someone called out "Do you need help with anything, ma'am?" did I realize that those 3 fat, lazy socialites were actually Macy*s employees. I threw a quick "no" over my shoulder as I shook my head in disgust.

Do I need to remind anyone of the economy and times we are living through? Those people should be so lucky to have a job - and this is how they work for their paycheck? What? Does Macy*s owe you something? Should you be allowed to sit around like a fat, lazy FUCK and get paid for it? Is Macy*s so lucky to just HAVE YOU?!
Gross.

Anyway.
I picked up 2 pairs of pants and took them with me as I wanted to check out the clearance racks for Wyatt. I can pretty much assume he will wear a 3 or 4 next winter. I won't guess what his pants will be but I know he can get away with a 4 in a sweater vest or button down, so I grabbed a couple.

Then I went to Abby's section and - as you already read, found nothing.

Lastly, I went to check out. On my way to check out, Abby thought it would be fun to hide in the racks of clothing. I have a great deal of patience for this sort of play. I have a great deal of patience for most of what Abs throws at me - I try to allow her to be 3 as much as possible - much to many a stranger's dismay. Too bad, I think, she's three and she's imaginative and she's having fun.

Anyway...
I put the pants on the counter and said "is it ok for me to pay for these here?" Knwoing full well that the intention of a dpeartment store is just that - so that I can buy men's pants and kid's sweaters at the same time.
The very un-handsome man at the counter who was also quite welcoming and polite said "yes".
But, as soon as he rang the pants up they were the wrong price. I said "oh, they rang up wrong." He promptly folded thepants up and, as he was handing them to me said to me "oh, then I'll have to send you back over to Men's with them."
I was shocked. But I was also aggrivated because by now Abby had pushed my patience to the point of her being stroller-bound and hysterical crying.
So, I said, (child screaming in the background) "you're saying that I have to go back to men's to get these pants. you can't just call?"
"No. Sorry." - with a very fake, almost condescending, smile.
So I said, "well, you'll just have to put these away yourself then, I am not going back there. Those people are lazy and unhelpful."
He said "sorry." - again, fake smile.

At this point, I am boiling inside. BOILING.

Abigail is screaming, Wyatt is escaping, I have to pee, Zit-Boy is smugly telling me to go fuck myself and I can hear those fat asses in Men's laughing.

So, I say, very calmly although I am as sure my face was burning then as it is now, recounting it, "you can't just call and ask them?"
"No. Sorry." (are you ready to kill him, too?)

So I said "Well, that is assinine. ASSININE."

And I didn't buy the pants. And I didn't get a manager. And I didn't feel any better about any of it, in fact. I may still email Macy*s with this story. Or, I may just swear them off forever. They will go the way of Amazon and Shaw's. NO MORE.

That will be hard. I don't know if I have reached the Nordstrom level of everyday shopping just yet. Ha!
There's always Lord & Taylor...

Way Back Wednesday


Oh yeah... you know it.

From right to left that's me, Deborah, Edward and Christine.
St. Pete Beach, Fla... maybe 1983? I don't really know.

I have lots of good picture like this of my sibs and I. Lots of fun pics of my parents, too. I took all of my parents' albums and scanned my favorites.
I could do it again and find a bunch more but I got a good sampling.

I love winter.
I love the fresh, clean smell of the air. I love that my daughter is fascinated by the "smoke" when she and her brother breathe outside. I love the calm, peaceful quiet that comes with a fresh snowfall. I love the beautiful winter birds. I love layering my clothing. I love jeans and jackets. I love the occasional slip on the ice that doesn't quite send you on your ass but quickens your heart.
I love watching the snowfall while I, and my family, are warm and cozy in our beautiful home. I love dreaming about spring. I love looking forward to the mud, the wet smell, the thunder storms and especially the buds on all the plants that have been dormant all winter. I love the trees, so strong and tall under the ice and snow. I love making snow angels with Abby. I love when Abby spots a snowman that someone made in the yard and screams with excitement. I love that Abby wants to go ice skating and really thinks she can. I love that everyone is bundled and huddled in their houses so that when we do run into each other, we are genuinely happy to see each other.

I dislike whining.
I don't care for the tone, that high-pitched, squeaky "poor me" tone of whining. I don't like useless complaining. I feel that if something bothers you so much that you have to constantly talk about it, complain about it, "discuss it" - whatever you want to call it... you have a responsibility to yourself to change it.
Sometimes you can't change it. Sometimes life hands you things that you cannot control, no matter how much they bother you.
Then it becomes your responsibility to accept it. And work with it. Find the good, find the challenge, find the meaning in it.
Use it to your advantage.

This post could go in a spiritual direction.
But I will spare everyone who isn't in the mood to hear how happy and peaceful I feel when I trust my heart to God.
And I will leave you with this:
"If you haven't got anything nice to say, say nothing at all."