Dog Days

So here we are, August 11th, and summer is coming to an end.

When I flip through my pictures and memories of the past few weeks it is a blur of sand, salt, seaweed, chlorine, over-priced ice cream pops and suntan lotion.

There was a lot of this:

And several days of this:

Probably too much of this:

Sometimes you gotta throw in a little of this:

Add a bit more of this:

A few afternoons ended like this:

And while it is not over yet, it is starting to get old.  I have to admit it.  As I have said so many times before on this Blog, I appreciate all 4 seasons, and never do I appreciate the next one more than when the current one is coming to a close.

When Spring has sprung, I long for lazy days of beach and pool.
And now, as my bright summer annuals are getting overgrown and under bloomed, my grass is growing slower, my car is sandier than the beach and the kids are so tan that people ask me where they're from...
They get on each other's nerves, which gets on my nerves.
They're bored, I'm bored.
We're ready to get back into our routines.  We've been bouncing, shopping, watching, swimming, sunning, riding, running, visiting, partying, sleeping-over, over-indulging and generally doing nothing productive or useful and enjoying every minute of it.  But we're done.

We want school and weekends and sports and dance and pumpkins, mums, boots and sweaters.  Birthdays, Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas.We're ready.  Because summer will come again, it's good like that.  And I am so ready to organize closets and make handmade Christmas cards, finish that cork garland I have been talking about and maybe even that Kissing Ball I bought all the stuff for 3 Christmases ago...

We have a few more great things on our Summer Bucket List.
Next week we will head down to Ocean Beach in New London.  Summer is not complete without soggy fries and soft-serve ice cream cones.  Abby has it in her mind that she will conquer the "big water slide" this year and Wyatt just really looks forward to the Motorcycles.

The Motorcycle Ride, Ocean Beach Park - 2011

It's a Day-cation, for sure.  One I really look forward to as much as the kids, if not more than them.  Just blogging about it right now has me all revved up thinking about it.  What a great way to spend a summer day.  The boardwalk, the "waves", the white sandy beach and of course, the splash pad.  I can't wait!!

The week after next we'll have a whole week of Daddy-Time.  A whole week off of work to hang with us.  Last year he tried this and Hurricane Irene stopped by.  Assuming we don't have a repeat of 2011, we're really looking forward to spending some quality time.  We'll hit the beach, drive up the shoreline a bit, maybe go see that new Disney movie about the plant-boy.  Eat some good stuff, play some fun things and just send summer off in style.  Beach, pool, firepit, movie nights, popcorn and icecream.

Because, really, without the sand, suntan lotion and tanned bodies - what would the point of summer be?

Dinah's Storm

Today I drove around with an old lady dog in my backseat.  She was soaking wet and running, terrified, from thunder and into roads that while I can't call them a "major intersection", I can say that for around here, it's dangerous territory.  So, what choice did I have but to pick her up and let her sleep soundly in my backseat while I drove around for 40 minutes looking for any sign of someone frantically searching for their terrified, lost dog?!

And for what reason would I be driving around on this particular day, when this particular storm and this particular dog happened to cross my path, while my kids were at camp (for their first time ever, away from me for a whole day - we can discuss the hole in my heart later)?  For what reason would this sweet, greying, frightened and lovely little girly dog run in front of my car while it's raining so hard I was trying to decide if it was just huge drops or actual hail?  Her tail was between her legs, her thick, groomed wolf-like coat was soaked but her eyes looked peaceful and her body language asked for help.
So, I got out of the car.  And I talked to her.  And I opened by back door.  And she hopped in.

At first, she stood and looked nervous.  And while I am absolutely an animal lover, I am also an animal respecter - and with that comes a healthy dose of fear - and my fear of being bit kept me from going right at her to check her collar or pet her head.
I let her relax.  I stopped home and checked on my own 'fraidy-dogs, got some water and a few treaties and went back to my little stray.
She was not hungry or thirsty.
She was tired.  She laid down.  She slept so hard I could hear her breathing.  I thought about bringing her home and calling it a day.

But instead I drove on.  And let her sleep.
And then I turned down a random cu-de-sac, all the while talking sweetly with my new girly dog.  And I said to her "you never know why things happen the way they do, you never know why you make a turn where you would not normally  turn" and so I turned.  In that cul-de-sac I decided she was confortable enough for me to open the back door and pet her and check her collar.
No tags.

I think I already knew I was not actually going to take her to the Animal Control Office in town.  First of all, they didn't answer the phone (or call me back promptly as their vm promised), so I knew they weren't there and confirming that wasn't worth the ride to me.  Secondly, I called!  I did my part.  I was not going to "surrender" this sweet girl to the authorities in hopes that some uniformed guard might care enough to find her a home.  I would be her home!!  She was sweet!!

As I was checking her tags, a car pulled out of it's driveway and up next to me.  I was looking for people looking for their dog - because everyone else was inside watching the storm, not standing outside in it.  But this woman happened to pull out as I was checking out my lost girl.
She said hello and introduced herself kindly, I said "I found a dog!"  She got out of the car and with the excitement of a 7 year old said "Can I See?!?!"
She did not recognize her but made no motions to leave me in her neighborhood, scratching my head.

At this point, I knew I could not let the dog back out of my car to find her way.  But I also knew I could not squeeze my 2 small, excitable kids into the back seat with her.  She seemed lovely and relatively clean, but who knows.
But I didn't know what to do.
Enter Debbie.  My new best friend.

When I explained that I did not want to give the dog to animal control ("she's so cute!") but I also didn't want to lock her in my garage as the storm that she seemed to be running from raged on all around her, and I couldn't put her in my house with my 2 dogs who were also foaming at the mouth in the humidity and thunder and I couldn't keep driving around with her because I had to pick up my kids, Debbie said - without any hesitation at all and much to my shock and delight - "I'll take the dog!"

Here is where I have to tell you that Debbie was a striking red head - friendly, freckly, pretty and red.  And yet, none of my usual red-head-flags shot up.  She seemed so genuinely kind and concerned.  Almost like she had been waiting for a new dog to show up.  She had a blanket for the seat in her car and a leash!
("you never know")

So, Debbie took the dog, I went home to my own dogs and took stock of my day.

In the morning, I dropped Abby off at school for her first ever, long awaited, day at camp.  As a stay-at-home-mom and beach-bum, I have never seen the need for summer camp.  We hang out in the summer.  We go to the shore, we go to the lake and we have a pool.  But this year has proven more challenging than years past.
It's not that my kids are super-spoiled (they are, admittedly, regular-spoiled).  It's not that they're bratty.  But, at nearly-5 and 6-going-on-16 they are, without a doubt, on each other's nerves.  And every day, with me, they are getting bored.  They are without structure, and they are bored.  They need more than what I am giving them.  Next year I will plan better.
So, this week they went to camp for a day.  I had meetings and camp is more fun and cheaper than a babysitter.
Abby went in the morning, lunch and 2 snacks packed, ready to rock.  I kissed her goodbye and walked away.
I felt like my heart was going to fall on the hallway floor.
Amazing what absence can do for the fonder...
What the hell am I going to do when school starts?

From there we stopped at Papa's house to drop off Nana's sunglasses that she left at our place.  A nice visit with Papa and the pooch.  He gave Wyatt a new hat - a red one to match the red shorts and red t-shirt he chose for his day.  The hat says "Stolichnya".

After that I dropped Wyatt off at his friend's house (and I really felt my loneliness kick in).  They had about an hour to play before lunchtime and then they, too, were off to camp.  We had decided (three of us, moms of 3 Kindergarten boys) that a half day would be enough for them at this point so they had a playdate and lunch first.

From playdate drop-off I went back to school to meet with the 2 principals of the 2 elementary schools with my PTA Co-Prez, CR.  We met and chatted and did our agenda and political deeds.  We laid out our meetings for the year, discussed costs and concerns and, I hope, are done with that.
The one thing I do not want, with this new role of PTA Co-P, is to be in meetings, in cahoots, in bed with administration.
Don't misunderstand me, I adore our principals - and our superintendant.  I like & respect them as women and administrators.  I consider myself - and our town - pretty lucky to have 2 female principals and a female superintendant that are moms and teachers and all around career women, but are also fearless and awesome and, to be honest, gorgeous.  LOVE that.
But, as PTA prez, I want to be neutral.  I don't want my personal opinions to play a role.  I want to focus on the kids, their benefits, the teachers, their benefits and the overall community feel - the pluses, the extras, the greatness that the PTA can give to a community.
Not to be dictated by the governing bodies, only to be dictated by need, want and appreciation.

From PTA I went to the Country Club.
I finalized the menu for the Dinner-Dance I am planning as a fund-raiser for the local Food Pantry.  I can honestly say "I" here because so far, it's all me.  I will need help - I do!  But I haven't found it yet so, so far, I'm pretty freakin proud of me.
We finalized the menu.  Cash bar with Beef & Fish buffet dinner, appetizer stations, salads, pastas, desserts - the whole nine - it's gonna be awesome.  DJ.  Photographer.
I am so flippin excited.
Now, onto the marketing.  That part is the key part because if I mess it up, or even if I don't maximize it - my planning, my whole idea - will fail.
I have to sell 120 tickets.
How?

From the Club I went to town.  I had a few things for sale in the Consignment shop.  It seems like Abby was the last girl born.  We ran out of girls.  Every baby born after Abby had a penis.  So, I ran out of good things to do with her better clothes.
I am a huge charity giver.  But sometimes - it's just too good!!  I want to see it move on, or I want to get something back for it.
Ralph Lauren and Gap and Janie & Jack!  I want to see a return on my investment!!
So, I went to consign.  Almost 3 months ago.
And so, in parting with a shopping bag full of stuff, I waited and waited.
And I made 20 bucks.
I feel dirty.
I'll just pass it on from now on.  If it's really worth it, I'll eBay it.  Consignment is not for me.

From town I went to ManchVegas.  Birthday party next week.  Both kids are invited.  Need gifts.
I went quick, one store.
Headed home as the skies got dark.  And so we come back to the doggie in the street in the pouring rain...

Debbie took the doggie from me and I felt good about it.  I felt sad because in that hour or so, I had gotten attached, but I felt good because we exchanged numbers and I knew that if she didn't find her home, she was going to keep her.  I knew it.
So, I felt good.

About 3 hours later, she called me.  She found her home.  Her name was Dinah and she was home.

Life has a funny way of finding it's way.

And, to add to this story, it turns out - Debbie is BFF's with my next door neighbor.  Small, small world.

One day in...

... and it rained and thundered and lighteninged and rained some more.
So, what were we to do!?  We went to the mall!!  Duh!!
And while we struck out on both ideas I had for my niece's birthday present (my whole "reason" for heading to the mall in the first place) we were greeted by a brand new, still-smelling-clean Germ Tank!!
So while the rain poured and the lightening crashed, my kids were joyfully jumping, playing and bonking heads with several dozen other children.
Good stuff.

Today we will make an attempt at the Lake.  It doesn't look particularly warm in the forecast but I somehow doubt that will stifle the kids' excitement.  Me, I'm not planning to wear a swimsuit, but I will look forward to burying my feet in the sand while I sit in my beach chair and take it all in...

Oh, I wonder...

...if the onset of summer vacation will make me more Bloggy or even less....  We are looking forward to so many summer adventures, not the least of which was officially (as in with real money) joining the lake this year.
We have a sunset date planned with Aunt Belle at Harvey's.
We want to go to the zoo in Rhode Island.
Big waves are calling from some beach in RI that we've never been to (Lookout?, not sure...)
Many trips to the various shore beaches we love.
Six Flags New England.
Maybe Santa's Village?!?!
A Camping weekend??

Wyatt will start K in the "fall" and Abby will start first grade.  Both kids will get on the bus at 8am and get off closer to 4pm.  That's a lot of time without my kiddos.  I am not looking forward to it and I plan to take advantage of every moment this summer.
I know so many moms that sign their kids up for every camp and activity they can write a check for over summer break.
Not me.  Not yet, anyway - (judge not lest ye be and all that jazz.)

So, Friday is the last day of school.  We have a big pool party planned for all of our besties...  Then it's off to the races.  How much awesomeness can we squeeze into 8 weeks of summer vacation?

We shall see...

Good Quote

You can tell more about a person by what he says about others than you can by what others say about him.  ~Leo Aikman

Some days, I am completely honorable, others I am a bitch.  Who's not - some days - right?

That's just it.

I am a genuinely kind and generous person, but sometimes I am just a bitch.  And I always find myself berating myself for my bitch moments. 

No more.

I will embrace my catty bitch.  Because it's taken me this long to learn - you can't have one without the other.  

The saint needs the sinner.

Too Much Sadness.

I have a wonderful network of friends here in town.  I call them all "mama" because that is what we are, that is what have in common, that is what is at our core.
We are mamas.

Some of us work outside of the home, most of us do not.
The women that I call my mamas do not make that an issue.
The women I call my mamas are the ones that I respect, admire, care for and trust.  They put their families first, they care about our community.  I can ask them to watch my children or grab me a dozen eggs  since they're going to the store anyway.  I don't sweat picking up a cup of coffee or having one picked up for me.  We don't quibble over a lunch tab or who's watched who's kid more often or with shorter notice.
We support each other.  We look out for each other.  We ask for guidance and give advice.
We look forward to our kids growing up together and cherish the moments along the way.
We also drink large quantities of wine together, debate town politics, dish catty bullshit and laugh our asses off.

The past few days have been difficult for my mamas.

The past few days have been incredibly, mind-blowing-ly, miserably depressing.

Within our community, cancer took one of our own.
Just outside of our small community but close enough for the ripples to affect, there was a violent accident involving a 6 year old boy.  He died.
And this past weekend, right here in town, a boating accident has put one of my mama's husbands on life support, with only prayer and hope to offer, we're all feeling completely helpless.

When I heard about the passing of my friend-of-a-friend, I felt sad but also some relief.  She had been very sick for a long time and she had been preparing for the inevitable.
I felt some peace that she was finally out of pain.
And then it occurred to me that, while I was relieved for her relief, I hadn't really considered how much it sucked that she got cancer to begin with.
I knew her pre-cancer, we hung out in the same circle of friends, drank wine and laughed many nights.  But I really got to know her story through her cancer, through that network of support and compassion, I had more to do with her in cancer than in life.
So while I am at peace with her being in Heaven, the grief of her passing hit me a few days later.  She has  twins, a boy and a girl.  They are lucky to have their dad who was on the brink of re-marrying when her diagnosis came.  They will have parents and siblings and a fine life ahead of them.  But they won't have their mom.
That is really fucking sad.

When I read about the little boy who died, I was devastated.  The story gripped me because the boy they showed in the picture was a happy, toothless 6 year-old, one I did not know personally but who looked like every other happy, toothless 6 year-old I know.  He didn't look like a tragic accident.
But his parents lost him, his brother and sister lost him.  He's dead and I am so sorry, I don't think I could feel any sadder for them if I did know them personally.
Then, I found that one of my mamas, one of my nearest and dearest did know him, and his family personally.  Her 6 year-old boy went to pre-school here in our little town, with that little boy.
Then, she shared details of their lives with me, details of that baby's funeral with me, details of his mother's reaction and strength.
She told me about 15 boys in full Boy Scout uniform that carried a tiny casket down the aisle of a church followed by his mother, walking tall and singing proudly about her baby boy's trip to heaven.
Right when I didn't think I could feel any sadder through my whole body, she told me that the mother of that little boy said to her "we will get through this".

When I opened up my MacBook to check my mail after a busy day of domesticity and errand-running on Monday night, I did not expect much more than a Book Club update and to see if a few checks had cleared.  What I got instead was a punch in the gut that I neither expected nor have completely recovered from.
A mama of mine, one of my oldest and favorite-est - her husband was "in a boating accident, is on life support, we don't know any more details."
Now, here is where the magnificence of my small town network comes in.  This news was only hours old and already, 12 of us were on call for childcare, food prep, laundry, house cleaning, car pools and whatever else this mama might need.
That's beautiful, right?
And what's behind that?  Love.  Community.  Support.  Compassion.
All that.
And Fear.
Fear.  Because that family?  They're just like my family.  They are us.
When she kissed her husband goodbye Saturday morning for Opening Day of Fishing in Connecticut, the very last thing on her mind was "this could be it, better make it a good one."
He wasn't going sky diving, or hunting or even Ice Fishing!  He was going out on a lake, in a boat, with his buddy.  I presume he's done this many times before.  I wonder if she even woke up enough to say goodbye.  He probably left really early.  Did she even say good bye?
And now he's got a brain injury.  He's in a medically induced coma because his brain is swelling.  He is completely on Life Support.
And my mama and her beautiful daughters are sitting by his hospital bed, afraid to move.
What's going to happen to him?  Them?  What's next?
No one knows.  No one can help.  They can only wait.  And I am terrified for her.

I know how awful and depressing this blog post is.  I am sorry if I am completely ruining your day.
I don't even have a happy ending.  I have only more questions.
What if that was Jay?  What if he went fishing and hit his head and fell in the water and was in a coma on life support?  What would I do?  Because I know this family - and it could have been us.
That terrifies me.

So, today while the kids were at school I found myself with one of those pleasant afternoons of "nothing to do".  A little perk of having no actual occupation.
I also had no money (another "perk") so I came home after dropping the kids off and swept the floor.  Then I baked some cookies while The Birds was on cable in the kitchen.
It was a very pleasant afternoon.  Wyatt came home with our neighbor so I didn't have to leave for pick-up and Abby came home on the bus.
They loved my cookies (chocolate chunk and pecans in a basic dough - nothing fancy but I had all the ingredients and they really came out great) and with nothing else to do, I sat down to watch tv with them.
An hour later, I woke up and found them both still sitting on me and the clock telling me to start dinner.
After dinner, we read a couple of books and Jay and I tucked the kids in.
Wyatt fell asleep but Abby asked me to snuggle her.
My girl is very intuitive and she can tell that I am a less than happy.  Not that she knows why or how, but it affects her mood, too.  I was happy to oblige so I got into bed with her and we snuggled.  She fell asleep pretty quickly but I stayed.  I was looking out the window of her bedroom watching the wind blow the trees, noticing how green things are getting and just feeling lost.
Then, I sort of focused on the trees and felt a memory.  Do you ever feel a memory so vividly it's almost like an out--of-body experience?
I was remembering her little room with different colors, different curtains and paint...  with a crib and a changing table and rocking chair.
I was rocking my tiny, tiny baby to sleep.  Gently getting out of the rocker with her in my arms, gingerly placing her tiny-ness into her giant crib, desperate not to jostle her or wake her only to have to nurse and rock her back to sleep and repeat the process again.
Some nights I think I did it 2 or 3 times before I escaped her room.
I can remember those nights, feeling trapped, feeling like I would never get her off my boob, never get her to fall asleep on her own, never get out of that room...
And on this night, not wanting to get out.  Wishing for a rocker and a crib...

Life is so precious.  Family, friends, happiness.  It's so precious.

Missed You...

I may have mentioned this before...  but people who do not signal when they are turning really annoy me.  Being behind someone who is mysteriously slowing down and finally turn -  that's annoying.  But being behind them, I can probably figure it out and slow down with them...  assuming I am looking, and not texting.
But the ones that are coming at me from the left, while I am waiting to turn out and go right.  I hate them.  Because when they don't signal, they waste moments of my time that I will never get back.


I re-signed up for Weight Watchers.  Why don't I just call myself a "Lifer" and save on the monthly fee?  I don't know but I'm back.  And you know what is the worst part?
Not that one Cadbury Cream Egg will take up more than half of my day's intake.  Not that my coffee and skim milk habit actually amounts to One Point...  Not even that I am hungry all the time and actually contemplate how much exercise I would have to trade to eat steak.  I don't mind that - that's a healthy trade off.
No, the worst part is that ONE GLASS OF WINE IS FOUR POINTS!!!  FOUR POINTS!!!  That's half a meal!!  I have to give up food for the Grape.  I'll do it, don't misunderstand me.  I am committed to the Grape and I won't be turned off course.
But really, I think my skin is going to suffer.


The husband has been home for a couple of weeks now.  It's an odd mix of love and discomfort.
I love having him around, but after 15+ months of not having him around, it's taken some adjustments.  All in all, it's worth it.
T-Ball has started up again, yard work beckons and he looks pretty hot on his new Deere.  Yes...  I think his tractor's sexy.


Buffalo Wild Wings just opened up near us.  Never been but I love wings and beer like a man and I am really looking forward to it.  I see a Ladies' Night in my future.
See that?!  See how quickly I can veer off course, Jenny Craig?  From counting points to sucking down buffalo wings and Not Light Beer.
It's a long road ahead, readers.


I continue to battle my "do I send my baby to kindergarten or wait?" issues - suffering in silence because I really just beat my head against the wall.  Do I have some motherly, internal, knowing that sending him is a mistake?  Or am I just paranoid and worried?
I subbed in a kindergarten class yesterday and the teacher, a 30-year veteran, answered me with "I always suggest the gift of time, why rush?".  30 Years.  She's seen a lot more than I can try to understand.  And she's not the "crazy old bat" type that's been teaching for 30 years, she's so in touch and loves her kids so much.
The boy's teacher points to his progress reports and says "there is nothing here that would direct me to tell you to wait."  In translation that means "I am so glad my kids were born first-quarter and I will never have to deal with this."
My heart says I am rushing him.  My brain questions my heart.  My husband is all about the empirical data.  I have none.  I have only worry, constant, unending, emotion-based worry.
However, I will add that with my experience in both kids' classes and in other classes since I started subbing I am starting to find more basis for my worry.  More facts, mixed with even more worry...  So who knows...  a couple more months of school, a couple of months of summer vacation...  only time will tell.


I have officially signed on to be PTA President.  Hold your applause.
My good friend, Claudia, and I will be co-presidents.  Neither of us wants to deal with the drama and bullshit but together, somehow, we will.  And truly, we'll do a really good job.  We're smart, we care and we're involved already - so it should go well.  Stay tuned.




Is it Beach Season yet?  I just vacuumed last year's sand out of my trunk...  in preparation for this year's of course.  Can't mingle the beaches.

Recognition.

One of the struggles I have had as a stay-at-home-mom has been my occasional feeling that my work goes uncredited.  Like, even though I am exhausted at the end of the day/week/year, I have nothing to really show for it, nothing to "prove my worth".

I know you can easily come back at that statement with "your children being happy and healthy are the proof of your hard work"...  blah blah blah...  I would say the same thing to you if you were feeling down.  We all know that, some days it's just hard to feel that.

There is no one to blame for this feeling.  It is just a feeling, no one makes them happen.

My husband is amazingly supportive and loving.  He showers me with praise and adoration and he does not go unappreciated.  I thank him, too.  We are a good team.

Nonetheless, I have to admit that I am at times, at odds with my choice to give up "earning" for "caring".  

I care for the house, the kids, the husband, his career, the school and town stuff...  and I do care.  A lot.  And I take pride in my volunteer work, my involvement with the kids' school days, friends and activities.  

I have never had any intention of throwing myself into a new career once the kids "get bigger".  This is my career, this is my life.

Watching the stray kid here and there, subbing a few days a week at school, scouring sales for the best deals and never paying full-price - that is stuff I do to throw a little ching back into the pot sometimes...  I like doing those things.  Those things require little more of me than I am willing to give and those things are also voluntary.  If I get called to work at school I don't have to go.

My husband has to to go to work.  All the Time.

So, I don't complain.  Not too loudly.

We have had a few weekends when Mommy has had to disappear for several hours.  To the mall, to the gym, to Kohls - what have you.  Mommy needs solitude sometimes.

Then, along comes a day like today - Tuesday March 27th - and all of my worry and need for measure are sated.

Today was report card day.  And I am walking on air.  I am a sappy, goopy mess.

Pride.  Love.  Pride...  I am just a happy mama.

I know it's about them, not me - obviously I know that - but the pride I am getting from their progress far outweighs anything ever handed to me by a manager at any number of the jobs I have had in previous lives.  Words like "well liked by her classmates" and "a natural leader at play".  "25 out of 25" and "14 out of 14".  "Cooperative and Polite".  "Kind and Helpful".  "Fun".  "Energetic".  "Happy".

"Focused and Enthusiastic".

No percentage above average or salary increase ever made me beam and cry and just over-the-top melt in the way that these pieces of paper that came home today have.

So.  I'm doing something right.  I have been recognized, indirectly, for my diligence.  So, today - I will hold my head a bit higher, worry a bit less and hope that should the day come that a report card is anything less than fabulous, I don't hang myself by my own apron strings.

I Love a Rainy Night

Spring - I am ready for rain boots and mud puddles, my friends.


There is Easter candy calling to me from the locked closet.  It's all ready.  Amazon will be sending the DVDs I ordered **in time for Easter**  to cap off the baskets left behind by the Bunny (please, please, please).
Hotel reservations are booked.
Mets tickets are purchased (first MLB game for the kiddos, Easter-Eve at 1:00 against the Braves - awesome.)
Flowers are popping up, crocuses have bloomed, spring projects are lining up.
I am so ready for Spring.  And with this weather, I am pretty much ready to open the pool.

Planning our yearly Easter trip to NYC always gets me excited.  I do it almost immediately after Christmas.  I put the decorations away and plan Abby's birthday party then I plan Easter.  I love a trip.  I really love a weekend away.  It's just the right amount of time - 2 days then Home again.

I do not think that Ellen's JCPenney commercials are funny.  Ever since I couldn't get through her book, I am liking her less and less...

Francine on American Dad is the greatest TV Mom ever.


Flip-Flops are back.  The season is here and there is no going back now.  If it snows next week, I will be cold, but I will be in my flips.


Colton is gone.  I can enjoy Survivor again.
Or it will be boring as all hell.  Only time will tell.

I Am Thankful for Spring.

I have mentioned before that I resent being assigned a season for thankfulness.
I try to be grateful for all the greatness that fills my life every day.

Today in a PTA meeting the guest speaker was sharing his wisdom and insight about our children's childhoods and balancing home and school and activities and recreation.
He discussed the partnership that is fostered between parents and teachers and really dove deep into how it should work and how it should blossom and grow and be such a bond that really enriches our children's lives.
When asked what we, the parents in the audience, would like to see from our administration and teachers not one of us could say a thing.
Every thing he had listed, everything he had mentioned?  Covered.
So, because I hate silence, I said "I honestly believe that our admin and teachers do all of that and more.  I have trust and confidence and respect for each one of those ladies and the teachers that work for them.  I am so happy and so grateful."
I, of course, choked up.
Then another mom said "I just try to take time each day, or even once a week, to reach out and say 'thank you'".  And she started crying.
Then another mom said that she was "a Military Wife and she will miss the school, parents and community when she inevitably moves again" and I am pretty sure I saw a tear in her eye, too.

How freakin' awesome is that?!
Our PTA meeting was a Love Fest!

So, I am kicking off Spring with another season of thanks...  and today I am thankful for Gilead Hill School and all that comes with it.
Our admin staff, our teachers, our parents and community - the kids - it's all part of the "system" and I am so thankful to be a cog in that complex.

Fives.

5 General Things that Drive Me Nuts-

1. "Thanks anyways."
2. Bad posture.
3. Brand new mothers.  (Ironic.  I know.)
4. Women who talk trash about their husbands.
5. Drivers who don't use their turn signals.

5 General Things that Make Me So Happy-

1. My one crocus has bloomed.
2. The 10-day forecast is all sunny 60's.
3. My book club.
4. Abby's toothless grin.
5. Fresh flowers in my kitchen.
   
   5 TV Shows that Continue to Entertain Me-

1. Grey's
2. The Voice
3. GCB
4. 2 Broke Girls
5. Survivor

5 TV Shows that I Continue to Watch even though I Hate Myself for it-

1. The Biggest Loser
2. Parenthood
3. True Blood
4. Ellen
5. SVU

5 Things I Do Not Miss About Facebook-

1. Passive-Aggressive jabs that no one else understands.
2. "Checking In"
3. Zynga games that sucked time out of my life that I will never get back.
4. Bragging.
5. Inappropriate photos of you.

It Snowed!

It snowed all day yesterday.
I went to the gym in the morning (I'm a runner now, ya know), hit the bank, got everything done just in time for the flurries to start coming down.  School was early dismissal which canceled PM Kindergarten so our afternoon was cozy and snow-covered!
I made soup in the Crock-Pot.  Had a nice dinner of steak with sautéed portabellas and spinach casserole.  Read stories and tucked the kids in early.  Both kids were asleep by 7:30 and right now, at 8:15am, Abby is still asleep.

Today my day will be relatively easy.  I have laundry to finish, floors to sweep and a few errands to run.  But the trick to today is that it will be the first couple of hours of alone time that I've had in 3 weeks.
I am not complaining about 10 days in Florida.  I am not complaining about babysitting.  I am not complaining about spending time in school with my kids.  In fact, I didn't even notice, really, until I started to think about what my day was bringing.
I have not had time alone since Thursday, February 9th.  And I am going to really enjoy the silence this afternoon.

I am watching Survivor this season.  You might have figured that out from my previous post of outrage.  It's better than Biggest Loser, the show I force myself to watch even though it's full of completely unlikable, fat, whiney losers.
I am watching a lot of shows this season, actually.  And recording even more.
I love The Voice.  Blake, Adam, CeeLo and Christina are the greatest foursome to hit tv...  ever.  (ok, can't think of a good comparison.)

There are several shows that started and when I read about them they sounded great but I have yet to watch them.  I am waiting to see if they are worth it.  If they're all hype and turn out to be crap, I will just delete them.
One that I recorded and haven't watched yet is Once Upon a Time.  And from everything I have read and heard it looks like it is going to be great.
I am recording Smash and Grimm, too.  Neither one looks like something I will ever wind up watching, though.
And I was excited about PanAm and recorded that, as well, but I think it was already canceled.
I have The River on dvr, keep thinking Jay will watch it with me but I think his tv-dance card is full right now.  We are watching Alcatraz, though and that's turning out to be pretty cool.  Only about 3 weeks in, but so far so good.
I am really excited about the new show, Good Christian Bitches.  I think it starts this week and unlike most of these others, I will be watching live.
Stand-bys that never fail to provide and I hope never leave me include Grey's, Parenthood and the newest "old stand by", 2 Broke Girls.
Jay wants to watch Awake.  I set the dvr but not sure I care.
As much as I like Chelsea Handler, her show really sucks.

Reading through this you would really think that all I do is watch tv...  but I actually only watch it at night, and generally ff through commercials.  I have this deep feeling of shame, like we're not supposed to admit how much we like tv.  And in addition to this stuff, I can't tell you how many PBS specials I don't admit to enjoying or how many trashy/informative cable shows I watch.  Whether I admit it or not, the tv is pretty much always on in our house.  Sometimes 2 or 3 of them!

Survive-her.

"I'm Losing It".
Really?
You had one night of rain and cold and you didn't sleep.  One night.  And you're out of your mind?
That moron is not going to survive!

"We're girls.  We're not meant to be beaten down like this."
Really?!
Thank you for being so unbelievably weak and stupid and then taking the opportunity to "represent" the rest of us and announce how women can't handle adverse situations.

I hate to state the obvious - but obviously neither of these females are mothers.  If their daughters were watching they could not possibly say these things out loud.
We all have moments of weakness.
Hell, I've checked out of 2-star hotels in favor of an upgrade because I just couldn't hack it...  but I never filled out an application for Survivor.

This is maybe my 2nd season of Survivor.  I can't resist the charms of Jeff Probst, I'll admit it.  But these women are making me so angry.
Please, young women of America - look away.  Children, Girls, Teens - LOOK AWAY!!  You can do better!  You are strong, you are smart and you are brave.
These females, thus far, are not Survivors.

Also - who is this guy?

I Googled it, he is not anyone.  But why does he look so dang familiar?!

Does Anyone Else See Spots?

This has been a very mild winter.
Yes, we got slammed by Irene in August and then again by Alfred 8 weeks later...  but I am feeling light-headed because I feel like I have been holding my breath for 3 months.

We're in Florida right now and the weather is...  mild.  Not too hot, not cold.  I haven't been sweating and dying to jump into the pool.  I have been enjoying the warm sun without the need for a quick cool-down.
We have been swimming, we have been int he Gulf and the pool.
So, not too-too hot, but not so cool that we can't swim and wear sundresses.

The kids and I spent 2 nights at Grammy's.  Thursday we headed to the Orlando International Hyatt to meet Jay.  We spent the evening strolling the mall/airport and the next day we spent at the Roof Pool.  That was cool.
Friday afternoon we checked into our timeshare/condo for the week.
Saturday was spent visiting with good friends of ours that live down here.

And Sunday...  we headed to Disneyworld!!
Sunday at Disney was - By Far - the greatest day of our vacation.
Color me brainwashed.  Call me a stereotype.  Put the Mickey ears on...  we loved it.  Every ride, every character, every employee, every sight and experience...  it blew away my expectations.  Every single bit was so much better than I expected it to be.
I cried at least a half dozen times, for various reasons.  Overwhelmed.  It was awesome.

This morning we decided we had had enough "Cow Country" and headed for the Gulf.  We spent the day at the beach, the pool and then - out to dinner with Grammy.
We're in a Marriott now and Life.  Is.  Good.  I do love a Marriott.

We'll head home tomorrow night.  It's been a wonderful week+ and I am feeling so blessed and so happy and so content and warm & fuzzy and happy....
And full.
Fat, really...

I am so happy that there is absolutely no food in my house right now...  So ready for a clean slate, fresh start and a healthy turnaround...
Fresh, healthy, fat-free, sugar-free, exercise-packed lifestyle.  Because if you put aside all the happy, mushy, "we're so fortunate" crap from the week, a definite takeaway is this:
I cannot take this fat ass into summer.  I will not.

Superbowl.

I won't bore you with my stereotypically female interpretation of football, the NY Giants or anything sport-related at all.
I am not a sports girl, unless it's my kid's team.
That said, I do like the Superbowl.  I like the food, the booze and the commercials and I usually like the Halftime Show.

As much as I make fun of Madonna for being 60 years old and still thinking that she's 25, I still love that she once was 25 and absolutely shaped my childhood with her music.  "True Blue" was one of my very first records and I still love all of the songs on it.

I fell out of love with her right around "Erotica" - the name says it all.  She just sort of went off the deep end and, for this fan, never came back.
Last night's performance was no exception to the rule, she is an amazing entertainer.  I loved that she opened with Vogue, loved that CeeLo cameo'd as the black dude in their Like a Prayer performance and I enjoyed the LMFAO part.

It was fun to watch, I loved the songs she chose and the choreography and extras were all awesome.
But, I return to my original position of "who is Madonna kidding?"
She is old enough to be a grandmother and she is singing about a a "boy giving her all his luvin'".
I don't feel like picking it apart, lyric by lyric.
But if this is the old lady's attempt at showing up GaGa, she's only making things worse.


Gaga grew up loving the Pop Queen, she imitates her, in my opinion, not intentionally but because she loves/loved her and Madonna's style is infused her own.
Madonna has taken a few pot-shots at Gaga in the past few weeks and I wonder if she's just trying to grab people's attention.

I am not comparing Gaga to Madonna because I'm not an idiot.  What Madonna did for music, for women in music, for dance music on the pop charts - for all of music, in general, in the 80's and beyond is not the least bit comparable to Gaga's Egg performance or pole dancing.  If not for Madge, Gaga would never have had a chance.
But what annoys me is that Madonna, ignoring her age and trying to recapture the 80's, is showing a little glimmer of Gaga/Katy-envy and it's making me cringe.

Hang it up, Madge.  You've earned it.  Relax.  Maybe write, produce...  maybe raise your children in peace and quiet...

We thank you.  You can go now.


PS-
This was a little uncomfortable....

I'm Just Sayin'

I've said it before and I'm saying it now - living in the Northeast gives me license to want snow in the winter, crispy leaves in the fall, cold rain in the spring and hot muggy summer days.
That is my right as a New Englander.

I can look forward to snow in July and curse it in January.  I can long for cool fall days in August and miss hot summer nights in November.  I can yearn for cold mud and creating gardens in February and curse yardwork in July.
The beauty of New England is that I get to love and hate all 4.  It is why I never want to leave and why I talk about leaving all the time.

These hang in my living room, they have since 2002 when we bought our first house. 

And while I know that I will land about 96 hate-comments for saying this (yeah, right, no one comments!) I am going to say it anyway:  Where's the g-darn snow?!?
Snow is pretty.
Snow is fun.
Winters should be snowy.

Look at the fun these guys are having!

I don't need ice dams and 8 foot snow banks, thank you 2011.  But this is a little ridiculous.

I know that last winter was an anomaly.  And I know that my post-traumatic snow-shock kicked in, big time, when Alfred hit on 10-29-11.  But here we are on February 4th and my kids have had one good day of sledding.

I hate my driveway in the winter and I haven't had a chance to curse it and cry about it once yet!





And I know that February is a fickle girl and we could well be F-ed in the coming weeks and I'll eat this post.  But I think, and tell me if I'm wrong here, I think that after last year, after surviving the HELL on EARTH that was Winter 2011, we deserve a fun, happy winter.

My girl wants to build an ice castle and make up stories about ice princesses.
My boy finally got his stamina for the cold up to more than 10 minutes.
Santa brought sleds!!

Yes, we'd have to shovel and we might slip.  But that, in moderation, is all a part of it.  And this is boring.

Tell me, tell me I suck.  Tell me I am annoying and should count my blessings.  But really, tell me you don't miss it, even a little??
(Don't answer that, Jay.)


 

Some Thoughts...

I have been reading Momastery.com a lot and at first I really loved it and now, I am starting to feel like she takes herself a little too seriously.

Kirby came to "deep clean" my couches tonight. 3 hours and a bowl of pasta later, I am not impressed.
I am... but not $3000.00-for-a-vacuum impressed.
But really, thanks for showing me how filthy my house is. 

It seems to me that the Red team hates black people.  That's a Biggest Loser reference and to make this clear - their trainer, Dolvett, is a black man.  These women are insecure bitches and the "men" are not men at all.  

I really like Chelsea Handler and I really wanted to like her sitcom but it is really hard to watch.  Laura Prepon is great, Chelsea as Sloane is great - everyone else is so uncomfortably bad.  

Martin Luther King Jr.

When the kids had the day off from school to celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King Jr's birthday 

it came up in conversation between Jay and I - 

"should we be explaining why this day is worthy of no school?"

It seemed, to us, almost like telling them the truth about Santa.

Our kids, kids, don't see color.  They don't know about Civil Rights.  

They love everyone.  

They don't see our differences, they just see people.

So why would we bust that bubble to explain that not everyone has always thought that way, 

some people still don't?

Jay and I have always joked that we hate everyone equally, 

it has nothing to do with race or religion, 

everyone who is not us is just very annoying.

So, we decided not to let the kids in on the whole "race war" thing just yet.

A few days later, Abby brought this home:

Abby wrote "Martin Luther King" but said "wanted everyone to play together", which her teacher wrote for her.

I could not have said it better.

Happy Birthday Princess

Dear Abs,

As I write this I am thinking about 6 years ago tonight.  

I had just about gotten my epidural and probably stopped swearing and threatening the lives of all hospital personnel around me.  

It had been a long day and I had high hopes for a "natural" delivery.

How was I to know that you would prove, right from birth, 

that you had your own way of doing things?

And here we are, on your 6th birthday, constantly in awe, in admiration, completely dumbfounded by your way of doing things.  

People say "Girls!  Be patient, it only gets worse before it gets better!"

And your smart mouth and quick wit and precious sensitivity challenges me, pleases me, entertains me, frustrates me and energizes me each day.

I have never known anything that could fill my heart with such love, such pride and such frustration - often at the same time.

6 years old is so big.  It's not 3 or 4.  

It's kindergarten and riding the bus and dealing with girl drama and school work and friends.

I love that.

 I love that your dream is to be a singer.  

I love that you dance with the freedom of pure joy.  

I love that you hang out in your room and listen to music or

sit in your beanbag chair and play your Leapster.  

I love listening to your endless imagination as you play with your dollies 

or your Barbies or your Lalaloopsies.  

I love that you sled down the hill with the same exuberance that you run back up with.  

I love that you come off the bus crying because someone else's feelings get hurt but 

that when someone hurts your feelings you can say "maybe they were just feeling sad about themself".  I love that you talk to me about everything.  

(Everything.  All the time.  Without stop.  Ever.  Always talking.  About everything...)  

I love that when I am in your classroom you are so happy that I'm there, 

but you get your work done anyway.  

I love that when I watch you in dance class you act like I'm not there and focus on your moves.  

I love that you have best friends and boy friends and friends' moms that are your friends, too.

You bring happiness into the room with you.

Your smile is contagious.

The things you say, the faces you make, the stuff you do,

the art you create, the songs you make up, the dances you perform...  

everything that makes you who you are is what makes us so happy to have you.

Happy birthday, baby.  Always know that you are smart, kind, brave, funny and loved.  

So loved.

Daddy's Girl

About a year ago my friend Jody's dad died.
He was a perfectly healthy, (handsome) and active grandfather.  He had just retired.  He was happily married. 
He was an important part of her life. 
Not because he was her dad, we all have dads.  But because he made himself available to her, to her kids, to her dog.  He was helpful and involved and happy to be both.  I didn't know him well but I know her very well and when he died I felt a sadness that I had not felt in my life.  And an awareness.
The funeral was so sad and equally funny.  He was spoken of in such high regard by so many.  One speech shared the goofy, fun side of him.  Jody's speech shared the loving, wise side of him.  One man has many versions and it seemed that all of his were beloved.
His burial was so sad.  So final.  I could only see the back of Jody and Quinn and Kieran's heads but my heart was breaking for having to imagine what my friend was feeling, sitting front row to a box of her father's dead body.
Pride.  Because his life was something to be proud of and because the people that were crammed into that room to view his casket and pay respect to the man one last time were proof of the kind of man he was.
Sadness.  Because it was one last time.
And Jody is strong.  She is the strongest, proudest, most independent and respectable women I know.  I can't tell her enough how proud I am to know her, to call her my friend and to watch her raise 2 of the most loving, caring, smartest, most confident and amazing kids I know (besides my own, of course).
I tell her as often as I can because I mean it and also because, since her dad died, I wonder if anyone tells her.

My dad doesn't make it a daily - or even monthly - ritual to call me up and remind me how proud of me he is.  He doesn't gush at my daily phone calls or email me to share his daily details.
I barely see the man, a handful of times a year.
But I know he cares about what my daily life is like.  I know he smiles at the stories my mom recounts to him even though he pretends not to care to listen.  I know he is proud of the smart, confident, funny and gorgeous woman I am (imagining his thoughts here, not mine, of course).
I can see him smirking when he is trying not to laugh when I say something off-color.
I can feel him loosening up when I make fun of his rules or his weird, uptight "isms" that make other people bristle.
He and I are comfortable with who he and I are with each other.
And that is something I am so grateful for every day.

Today I told Jay that for the last few days, when my mind wanders, I feel myself thinking about my Dad's funeral.
It is not something that I should be thinking about.  He's not sick, he's not that old.  But ever since Jody's dad died, I can't help myself.  It brought about a certainty that one day it would be my dad we'd be burying because, certainly, Jody hadn't considered her own dad's funeral.  One day he was fine, then he got sick, then he was dead.

So today, as I was driving home from Glastonbury - I had hit the gym, showered, grocery shopped and was racing back north to get the kids from school on time - I found myself, once again, at the podium of some nameless church trying to describe to a room of random people why I adored my dad so much and why I was so sad at my loss.

Then, tonight I had the brilliant idea to write a living eulogy.  I could tell me dad, while he is still alive and kickin', how I feel about our relationship, how I adore him and how proud I am of being his little girl.
But that's corny and I don't have that kind of patience.

The day will come and I'll wing it. 

I take peace now, in writing this and reminding myself, again, how lucky I am to have a Dad that knows me, loves me, is proud of me, and with whom I enjoy spending time with.

Even if it is in short doses.

A Few of my Favorite Things...

The first time I read this book, I dropped it in the lake and it blew up so big I had to throw it out and buy a new one.
Longest and greatest story I ever read.

So. Romantic.

This was an excellent movie...  which is a lovely coincidence...

Because -
I love this show.

Maybe it jumped the Shark, maybe not...  but I still really look forward to it.

My favorite movie ever.

2 Broke Girls is hilarious.
Is it cheap vagina joke humor?  Yeah.
But something about the delivery, the chemistry...

This was a fun day...