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.

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.)


 

This is why I write.

The little, day-to-day stuff that happens with Abby & Wyatt gets seen, laughed at and appreciated then forgotten.  They are so funny and so cute and everything they do is a step closer to being the great big people they are going to be one day.

I like blogging the litte things so that we don't forget everything.  I am with them all.  the.  time.  So - sometimes I forget how cute they are when how annoying they can be is more at the forefront.

Today was a good day.
Today was a school day for Abby so we got up and out on time for school.  Getting the 2 of them ready has gotten considerably easier.  I set up their bathroom stuff, they brush & wash.  We generally choose their clothes the night before and they dress themselves.  Getting myself ready while watching them get ready, keeping them on track and possibly even showering is not easy but it's not that hard, either.  It just requires a bit more patience than morning usually presents me with.

After we dropped Abby off at school Wyatt and I went into town for a cup of coffee.
Ok, we drove up to Main Street and I got a coffee & a bagel from the DD Drive-Thru, he got hashbrowns.

We drove back down to school and went in for my first official PTA meeting.  The PTA was good enough to host their meeting during the day while providing childcare for the little ones.  I was so excited to attend my first official meeting and of course, I had plenty to "add".  And of course, I got myself a job and volunteered for a committee.
I will be building a Facebook Page, and maybe a blogger page too, for the PTA.  A way to keep everyone updated and plugged in.  These days, all the moms have a FB account or are constantly on their Blackberries or whatever...  so I will help the PTA connect with them when you know they're not reading every colored paper that their kids bring home every day.  The kids bring so much home each day plus all the "school" stuff every Tuesday.  Now multiply that by 2, 3 or 4 kids and add a full-time job on top of that.  Not every mom gets as excited as I do for Tuesdays.  And I'm guessing it will lose some of it's luster for me by grades 5 & 6.

By the time the meeting was over and I was done BS'ing with the other ladies I found myself standing inside Abby's school at 10:40, knowing that I have nothing to do until 11:20 when I am supposed to pick her up.
I didn't want to take her out early but I also didn't want to sit in the parking lot for 40 minutes and what was I going to do for 40 minutes to be back in time that wasn't a giant waste of energy?
So, Wyatt and I went into her class and were so graciously asked to stay for snack and story time.  The day was almost over anyway and I know Abby's teacher well enough by now that if she did not want us there, she would have said so.
Parents are always welcome, little brothers...  not so much.  But Wyatt settles right in (this was not his first visit, lucky little bugger!).  All the kids know him and want to sit with him and play with him.
He listened very quietly as one of the teachers read a Clifford story and when it was snack time Mrs. Monarca set him up with a water and a little bag of pretzels.

Wyatt wants, so badly, to go to school with his Thomas backpack and pack a snack.
He has a few friends in Abby's class.  They're little and they're only 21 months apart so sharing friends comes pretty easily at this point.  Plus, our playdates are almost always sibling-fests as so many of their friends are close in age, as well.
Mitchell is Abby's "boyfriend" even though as far as Wyatt's concerned Mitchell is his boyfriend, too.  Taylor has been Wyatt's little "girlfriend" since last September as her older sister was in Abbys pre-k last year and the 2 of them were always together when the older girls played.
I love thinking about all of these little friends going through the next 10 - 12 years together.
I do cringe when I think of them leaving the sweet, safe little nest that is Preschool, though.  That's for another post, though.

When school was over we headed out to BJ's.  The kids were so good.  They listened and used manners and stayed close to me and didn't beg and scream and cry for every candy, movie and toy they saw.  In fact, we spent several minutes browsing through the DVDs and when I said it was time to move on, they moved on.
My kids are good, they're better than lots of kids, I'm sure.  But they are 3 & 5 so to get them through a store, really - ANY store, without a fight is a more-than-pleasant surprise.
It did not go unrewarded.
When we passed the Monster Jam Hotwheels trucks, it was a no-brainer.
See, this past weekend Jay took the kids to see Monster Jam in Hartford and while we weren't sure if the noise and smell would send them out after 10 minutes, they fell head over heels in love with Monster Trucks, loud noises and doing cool stuff with Daddy.
The toys were necessary - it just made them so unbelievably happy.  When I said "I will buy these for you if you promise to share with each other and with Daddy", Wyatt swore he would share and Abby stared at me, mouth wide open, shocked and said "We can have them?!"
That proved 2 things to me 1) I have been sticking to my guns and not buying them stuff for no reason (as promised to my loving, hard-working husband!) and 2) my kids are not spoiled, stinking, assuming brats that demand toys from me.
It was so nice, I was so happy to buy the silly things.

But wait, there's more.
Wyatt insisted he would "set up a monster jam show".  At first, i had no idea where he was going with this plan.  The day was so nice and happy and my patience level was very high so I let it roll.
He proceeded to take every chair in the kitchen and set up an arena of sorts.
He went up to his room and brought down a bunch of regular sized cars and lined them up.
Then, the show began.
Of course, Abby wanted Monster Mutt all to herself and Wyatt kept telling her that it was his show.  So, in my own selfish desire to keep the ever-lovin' peace, I suggested that maybe a few Barbies would like to be the audience.
That's when the shit really blew up.

I have never had that much fun in a messy, disorganized kitchen in my life.
My kids are awesome.

Dinner and bedtime were uneventful but I will leave you with this:

Cheeseball Diva in her new big girl room!

Today is Monday so I have another weigh-in in 2 days.  Last week, though, was my first March weigh-in and you may recall I promised to lose 2 pounds per week for all 5 Wednesdays of March.
I lost 3 lbs in week # 1.
Go Me.

I have really been enjoying cooking and being creative with Weight Watchers ideals (fat, calories & fiber!), without using meat, and eating as much as I can with as few points as possible!
I love the challenge, the hobby that it becomes.  When it becomes a lifestyle, it becomes routine, part of the every day - and even though (for now) it's retaining it's novelty, it is also fitting into our structure perfectly.  We eat at least 2 meals a day, at least 5 days a week at home.  Lunch is usually not a big deal and sandwiches/salads/frozen meals fill that meal very easily.
Before getting pregnant with Abby I lost 30 pounds on WW.  And that was without exercise.  It's because of the changes I made in my habits.  So, this time, with the habits and the gym - I am feeling really good.
And Jay does a lot of the cooking.  He makes the salads (tossed, veggies and otherwise), he experiments with fish and veggie products, he has been researching and blogging and without him, I would not be anywhere near as into this as I have been.
I do the shopping, the soup making, the dessert creating (I can't go without but I can make them fat and sugar free!).
We encourage each other, root for each other and have just the right amount of competitiveness to keep each other going.  (Ok, we're really, really competitive - sometimes we scare people, but it works for us!)


This weather is awesome.  I know we'll get another snowstorm.  I know it will get really cold again but for now - we're blowing bubbles and riding bikes.  And I have a very strong desire to start raking, pruning and decorating outside and in the gardens.

I crave summer, suntans, mosquitoes, late sunsets on the deck with a cold beer, hearing the trickling of the pond and chirping of the crickets.
I want to smell citronella and sun screen.  I want to come home from the salty beach and jump in my chlorine-y pool.
But first, I want to feel the chill and smell the air before one last snowstorm.  Then, I want to hear the hush of a snowfall one more time.  I want to see big flakes falling silently.  I want to see my breath as I shovel the snow from my driveay one more time.
I know how crazy that sounds because I really do hate it as much as the next guy when it's coming down for the umpteenth time in mid-January.  But here it is March.  We're already having warm days and cold nights.  We set the clocks ahead on Saturday.
I won't mind one more storm, because I'll know it's only one more.
Last year we were at the beach in April.  I can handle a few more weeks of winter.  Then I will love spring, summer, fall and winter once again.  I love New England!

Finally made it to New York yesterday and met Baby Caleb and Baby Isaac.  Caleb is my BFF's new guy and Isaac is her little sister's first baby.

As you might imagine, they are both adorable.

Check out Isaac, easily one of the happiest babies I have ever met - and look at that great hair!

When we first arrived, Caleb was asleep so I just picked him up from his warm, comfy spot and let him sleep on me for a while.  I think we both preferred it that way.  He is still all curled up, arms and legs bent in, fat, warm head all wrinkly and soft - he smells so good like only a new, breastfed baby smells.  He is absolutely beautiful.

His big brother is as happy and adorable as ever - I couldn't believe all the words he has now.  Turns out, we hadn't seen eachother since Wyatt's birthday in October so that is a lot of time for a little guy, lots of stuff happens in a few months when your barely 2 years old.

Here is Baby Caleb with Abby.  She couldn't wait to hold him.

 

 

And here are the three "big kids" watching "How the Grinch Stole Christmas", pretending they were in the movie theatre:

 

When we left Aunt Belle's, we headed up to my sister's for a quick visit and dinner.  I love my sister.  I love spending some time with my nieces, getting a little QT in the middle of the week like that.  No pressure, no event, no nonsense - just some pizza, some play time and time for jammies & hit the road!

I spent a few minutes teaching Kathleen the notes on the piano and I think she got it.  But - and I can't imagine where she got this from - her distaste for things she's not already the best at made it a pretty short lesson.

It's amazing to me that my sister's kids are going to be 9 & 7 this year.  That's old - that's not "baby" anymore...  that's grade-school-big-kid stuff!  Where the heck does the time go?  I don't care how cliche that sounds - there's a reason people say it all the time!

Another thing that I truly love about going to NY for the day is coming home.  Not because I love Connecticut, Hebron and 131 so much.  I do, but that's not what I mean.  I love the drive home.

I love putting the kids in their jammies, buckling them in to their seats cozy with their "car blankies" and Lambie & Woobie.  I love listening to the Love Songs at night, first on 100.7 in NY and then on 100.5 in CT.

I enjoy the quiet time.  

Sometimes Abby will surpirse me and chatter all, or most of, the way home but last night she didn't make it more than a few exits on 84.

So, I am left with the hum of the road, quiet music and my thoughts.  And that's nice.

I can reflect on my visits.  I try to squash the guilt I feel about coming out to NY and not seeing Auntie Eleanor or Gramma.  Both are in "homes" and both deserve and would love a visit.  I don't have an excuse, so I have guilt.

I reflect on my days of growing up, going to school, living and working in NY.

I compare myself from then to now.

All in all, yesterday was a great day.  I am grateful for my best friend of more than 20 years.  I am thankful for her family (I was happy to see her Dad and brother, too, in addition to Jess).  I am so grateful for my big sister and her girlies.  And I am so grateful to have my Love here at home - supportive and understanding of our absence while we visit, waiting for and missing us at our return.

Tonight we headed up to 10P.  It was time for the Quarterly and that is a guaranteed night of good friends, good food and fabulous conversation.
{As well as a fair amount of off-color humor, sarcasm, foul language and raucous laughter.}

The six of us have been hanging out for several years now and our bond has grown tighter as the years have passed.
We've seen love, marriage, divorce, miscarriages and births.
We've moved and moved again.
We've changed jobs and changed careers.
Through many hours of conversation we have learned that while we are 6 very different people, we are very much the same.
Life is not always how you plan it, life is not always how you want it but life is always a gift.
And friendship like this is the cherry on top.

And that is something we gratefully share with these guys:

Our Kiddos:

Timmy, Matthew, Wyatt and Abby with her new "best friend", Baby Gabriella.

I really hate the new Gap Kids commercial.
It's a bunch of over-dressed, overly-colorful brats screech-chanting at their "parents" about what they refuse to wear and what they demand to wear.
It's sickening.
Equally sickening is the new Stella McCartney line at Baby Gap.
Who spends $70 on something sized 18-24 months?  Not your typical Gap shopper.

And if you know me, you know how much I love Gap.

So, I thank you, Gap Marketing.  You have allowed me some time to pay off my stupid Gap card as I am too repulsed to shop your brand right now.

Snow day today.  That was fun.  I had planned on taking the kids to the mall.  For someone so energized and organized about Christmas, I sure have not done much shopping.
And I am starting to feel the crunch.
Abby needs a dress (or two), Wyatt needs a shirt and/or sweater.  I need to figure out what I'm wearing and if I need anything, as does Jay.
And that doesn't even touch on what I have to buy still for gifts...  and I love buying gifts - but not having much done yet makes it a little stressful.

So, I was going to go today but got snowed on instead.
On the one hand, that's good - when school's canceled I have Q&K all day and that means a little extra money.  And I'm not shopping - so I consider that double profit!

The kids made a snowman while I shoveled and Jay snowblowed.  That was awesome.  They did a great job and it was definitely a first for Abby & Wyatt. 

Abby loved it so much and tonight asked me if the snowman would come to life.  Silly, yes - but so serious and cute that I wondered how to answer.  I'm still not entirely sure.  She's very clever and has a great sense of humor but I can't tell if she's kidding, testing me or dead serious.
I played it off with the "if you think so then he will" and "not as long as you're awake" stuff.  But...

While they were making the man - Wyatt decided to pull his tricycle out of the garage.  It was hilarious.  He rode his bike down the strip of driveway that Jay had blown and then looked at me and said "Ma!  Help You!"  Translated, that means, "Mom, help me with this, will you?  Shovel a good path for me, I want to ride my bike!"


I have got to find a Barbie 3-Story Dream Townhouse.  Why, oh WHY did I NOT go buy it on Thanksgiving Eve when it was on sale for $99?  WHY?
Now, if I can even find it - at full price - it's at least full retail price of $160.  At Amazon I saw it for $260!  That's crazy.
But I can see myself going mama-at-holiday-times-goes-batshit-for-toy-that-kids-love.
I will find that house.
If it kills me.
If I have to cross a state line.
I will find that house.
At a good price.

Less than 2 weeks till Christmas at my mom's house!  We always get together with my mom's family the weekend before Christmas and over the last few years that celebration has become our only Christmas celebration with my side of the family.  Everyone has young kids and we're pretty spread out so it's easier for everyone and frankly, I love it!
We can spend the entire day, there's no rush, there's no other families pulling us in a different direction...  we can just relax and enjoy each other and celebrate Christmas.
My parents are increasingly difficult to shop for and their recent purge of all things not nailed down has made it even harder.  But this year, I think we did a good job and I'm excited to give them their gift.
I also have a few other good ones in my head.
But, like I said, I need to get on that. 

Have you had a bowl of cereal lately?  I don't mean Cheerios.  I mean the good stuff.  I had a bowl of Cookie Crisp the other day at Jody's house.  I was so excited about it.
It was awful.
A few months ago, I had a Fruity Pebbles craving and bought a box.
Gross.
Then I found out that they don't have enough sugar anymore.  The companies have been "under fire" for being unhealthy.
Really?
People had ot complain to the cereal companies because they are not, in fact, an integral part of the "balanced breakfast" they boast of in their commercials?
Really?
Well, thanks, politically-correct America.  For Eff-ing up one more happy childhood memory.
No more sugar in "sugar cereal", no more sitting "Indian Style" and no more cookies for the "Cookie Monster".
Nice.


Have you seen the Walmart commercial with all the little kids waking up and running as fast as they can down to their Christmas Trees on Christmas morning?
THey're all in their little jammies.  Some with feet...  and they run so fast, a few of them actually fall.  It's hilarious and oh-so-cute...  it almost makes up for the Gap nonsense.
But not quite.
You won't find me at Walmart at Christmastime.  No way, No how.  And with no Gap this year... well - it just makes me happy for my zero-balance on my Macy*s card!

I'll wrap up with this:  after tucking the kids in each night, I head downstairs with one final "Good night, God Bless you, I love you."  Just as my mom did every night after she tucked the 4 of us in when I was little.
Tonight, as I closed Abby's door, I said it, as I always do, but for the first time, Wyatt replied "I Lah-loo, Mama".
Then Abby came out with "Goodnight, Wywy, I love you!"
To which he replied "I Lah-loo, Abby!"

What is it about these guys that makes my heart all aflutter?

Is it the way that Murray rocks the guitar?

 No.  But he is a very talented guy.

Is it the way Anthony's teeth blind the audience with every pearly grin?

 

 Nope.  But you've got to hand it to this guy - he looks terrific!

Is it the way Captain Feathersword portrays a mild-mannered Bad-Ass for preschoolers?

Nope...  (ok, maybe a little).

Is it the Big Red Car?

Not even close!

It's the way that all of those things make my sweet angels look like this:

And this:

And finally, this:

Thank You, Murray (our favorite), Jeff, Anthony, Sam and Captain Feathersword!

Yesterday was an amazing day for all four of us.

We love the Wiggles!!

A little update on my Fall Television post:
I never watched Melrose again.
Still love Big Bang and  How I Met Your Mother.
L.O.V.E. House.  That guy just gets better and better.
Christine is a little too neurotic this season.  She annoys me.  I like her, she looks great, but the writing is bad.
I miss the Henricksons.  Does anyone know when Big Love is back?
Never watched Flash Forward.  Then, I had about 4 or 5 on the DVR which I found too intimidating so I deleted them all.  Maybe we'll watch it on TNT or USA one day.
I wish I watched True Blood.  I missed the first season and it's not On Demand.  Maybe when the 2nd season is over they'll both be On Demand and I'll get caught up.
I did watch Hung for a while.  It stunk.
Glee is so much better than I ever expected.  And when I got this week's EW and saw Glee on the cover, I was so excited, I read the article immediately.  Apparently, everyone loves Glee, not just me.

When in the heck do we set our clocks back?  I love that.


Made apple pies the other day with Abby.  YUM.  We froze one for Thanksgiving and baked one.  Then, we ate less than half so I sliced it into large servings and wrapped and froze them individually.  Neat, right?
Want a little apple pie?  Pop one in the oven and you're good to go!


I generally don't "stress out".  I'm human, I get overwhelmed, I feel anxious, I snap when I'm tired - all that.  But I generally catch myself myself and am able to take deep breaths, evaluate the situation, prioritize and march on.
I am a talker, too, which helps.  When something is on my mind, I will talk to anyone and everyone with ears.  They don't even have to be listening.
But lately, I have had the sort of emotional stress that isn't really talkable.
It's family stuff - interactions, relationships that can't be described or defined, they just are what they are.  And they're far from perfect. 
It might not ever be what I want it to be, but I have to be in a happier place for myself.
When you get too wrapped up in what is bothering you, you stop seeing what is wonderful.
No, I'm not "perfect" but I really like me.  I like my life and the way I go about things. I am positive.  I am loving.  I am loved.
So, I am stopping my worry.  I am putting it in a box, on a shelf.  I can't be rid of it, but I don't have to look at it every day.

Also - I'm going for a pedicure, out to dinner and shopping with 2 of my favorite women on Friday.

We are leaving the kids for an overnight.  We have never done this before.  Abby is almost 4 so it's been 4 years (plus) since we have been alone in a hotel room.  I know there are plenty of people out there that have never left their kids overnight.  My sister is leaving her girls with us next month for one night (hopefully 2 but she might not make it!) and it is their first time and their kids are 7 & 8.
I also know plenty of people who have left their kids multiple times since they were tiny babies.
Whatever - this will be our first (hopefully not our last) "getaway" and I cannot WAIT!!

Happy Birthday to my 

beautiful, adorable, loving, lovable, 

funny, smart, brave, curious, challenging, strong, 

AMAZING baby boy.

Every day that I am blessed with being your mama 

is the best day of my life.

So, earlier tonight, I was thinking about how many very good friends I have in my life.
That got me thinking about how much I love them, love being with them, love their kids...

I like people pretty easily but I don't fall in love with or trust people very easily. I try to hide my insecurities and general goofiness until I am sure of my safety with people.

That got me thinking about how blessed I feel for knowing that I, too, am loved. That my kids are loved. That my family is loved, respected, enjoyed - as we love, respect and enjoy our friends, as well.

That led to thinking about my family. Growing up the youngest of four, I was always very well taken care of. (Yes, and sometimes just getting beat on by 3 older siblings, or over-protected or dumped on - it comes with the package, and the package was well worth it!)
I love my family so much. I am so lucky to have a close relationship with my 2 sisters and brother - and their spouses. Distance doesn't put space between us, and even when a lot of time goes between talks, it doesn't leave a gap in the conversation.

It made me realize that while I do, at times, feel sad for something that is going on with my family or friends. I am grateful for the sadness - because it forces me use my strength that gets me past it. And that strength comes from my heart, my ability to forgive and forget, my desire to love and be loved, my need for peace and never to hold hostility.

I prefer to see the good in people.
I prefer to assume good intentions.
I would rather be disappointed than to just not expect anything at all.

Sometimes, I am disappointed.
Today I was.

But you know what? It won't hurt forever, and at least my disappointment is not with myself, my effort or my heart.

It's hard to explain, so I decided to, once again, Google some quotes to try to capture what I am feeling.
I couldn't find just one, so I thought I would share the few that stuck with me.

"In a full heart there is room for everything,
and in an empty heart there is room for nothing."


"Have a heart that never hardens,
a temper that never tires, a touch that never hurts."


"The less you open your heart to others, the more your heart suffers."


"There is no instinct like that of the heart."


"To the world you might be one person,
but to one person you might be the world."

I love the sound of my kids running through the house on the hardwood floors.
I can't wait to replace the living room carpet with more wood for more pitter-patters... ok, more like thud-thuds... especially from the one who's feet are taller than they are wide. Often referred to as Barney Rubble.

The kids have decided they no longer need the child-safety cushions around the brick hearth of the fireplace. They have pulled them off and use them as swords.
As far as I can remember, neither child's head has ever been spared because I placed those cushions there, so let's hope it doesn't come up now that they're off!
It is nice to have the brick back completely.

Making Beer Bread right now. Kimmie made it one time and I haven't been able to get it right since. I am also making the "Garlic Dip" by Tastefully Simple that she paired with it. The bread is Pampered Chef, tho - wonder if that's the difference? How different can Beer Bread be?
Using Guinness, never fear, my friend!

Planning our "Non-Consecutive 5th Annual Jay-bor Day BBQ". Can't decide on decor. I might just skip that expense and concentrate on food & drinks.
Thinking about placing on the invitations "please bring a salad or side that you love" and that avoids everyone asking and the aggravation of prep and fridge-room.
I will make the main courses and appetizers, and of course - DESSERT!! Is that tacky?
My aunt did it one year and she said it was awesome - so many different sides and salads, and a great conversation starter for people.
We'll invite the family and our smallest circle of friends - because just that is about 35 people.
Inevitably, it becomes bigger because my big mouth invites everyone I run into between now and the actual party, but whatever - once you're doing it, you might as well do it, right?
{I promise I won't do it this time, babe, in case you're reading this!}

After Jay-bor Day comes Wyatt's birthday. I cannot decide between one more Sesame Party, Dinosaurs or Diego. I am leaning toward dinosaurs... but if I don't do Sesame Street this year, I'll never get to do one again. And it is so cute, and Wywy really loves Elmo, Ernie and Cookie - and Grover and Zoe, too. And, he's 2, so it's really up to me.
I think it will come down to availability when I hit the Party Store. We'll see. I'm sure you'll see considerably more as Labor Day actually kicks off "Entertaining Season" here at 131. And I really love that!

Today is the first day of summer vacation.
"But Liz," you say, "your children are 3 & 1, what concern could the school year possibly cause you?"
Well, throughout the school year, I watch my friend's kids from 3:30 - 6, after school.

9 months ago I started this gig. Wyatt was 11 months old, a far cry from his now "almost 2" status. Abby was 2 & 1/2, Kieran was 7 and Quinnie was 11. Each day we went up to Jody's and greeted the kids as they got off the bus.

Random day that the kids were off from school - we headed to Pumpkintown!

I could tell you about their exhaustion, their busy schedules, their difficulty adjusting to summer boredom to school craziness - with homework and extracurriculars and sports.
I could tell you how hard it was for me to try to show patience while teaching patience.
I could tell you hard it was for me to adjust from putting dinner on the table each and every night for my family at 6:00 (promptly) and my kids down to bed at 6:30.
I could tell you how strange it was for me to be in my friend's house as a paid employee and not a guest.

One of several "family" dinners.

Instead I want to share with you how much I love showing patience for 2 very tired, very over-scheduled, very smart, very loving, very well-taken care of children as they learn to show patience for my 2 kids.

I want to tell you how much I love helping with homework, projects, peer-pressure struggles and soccer practices.

I want to share with you that a little boy who all but hated having 2 babies in his house each day, touching his stuff, speaking to him in a language he didn't understand, all-around bugging him - how that little boy came to playing with, showing how to use his stuff and straight up offering to help and easily enjoyed protecting those same 2 "babies" within a few months time.

I want to offer that a little girl who is a t time in her life in between "little girl" and "teenager" learned how to laugh at herself, how to shrug off kids who don't count in the long run and how to enjoy and look forward to challeneges that scared her to death in the beginning of the school year.

February Vacation - spent a day at the Lutz.

In 9 months I learned so much about myself as a friend, neighbor, mother and just as an adult - a person who's every word, facial expression & action is studied by the little faces all around and affects each little person in a way, very often, different than intended.

I helped these kids as much as they helped me. We learned from each other.
Getting off the bus to me is not as good as getting off the bus to their own mom, but I like to think it's as close as we can all get. Because that's how it felt to me.

Lunch at Evergreen.

And their mom, my friend. I loved making her house feel like "home" for her when she got home from work. I loved loading the dishwasher, or lighting a candle or starting dinner. I loved making her entrance as peaceful as possible after her long day at work, just as I try to do for my own home, for my husband.
I often joked with my husband that I was the stay-at-home-mom for both households.

Last day of school - Pizza Dinner!

"Next year" (meaning - in 3 months, when Fall unofficially starts and the buses rev up their engines again; when high school kids don their wool sweaters and corduroys fresh off the rack for "fall" only to sweat their asses off as it is actually still quite "summery" for a few months; when the book bags & pencil cases are still full & organized, the books are still neatly covered; when the lunches & snacks are healthy and carefully packed; when the lazy days of summer actually begin to crave the structured days of school... can you tell how much I love Fall? And it's not even summer yet?) - I will take the kids off the bus again.

And I already can't wait!

Jay and I headed down to "New Shea" yesterday. We have not been to a game in a few years and (obviously) this was our first trip to CitiField.
The new park is awesome. Seriously. Great, great time!

I was anxious about leaving my kids at my parents' house for several hours. "Anxious" because I was worried about my parents having a heart attack or stroke while chasing Wyatt, not because I thought they would do something bad or wrong. That boy is a handful, and my parents are no spring chickens.
But - they had a fabulous time, ran the Grammy & Grambear ragged and fell asleep in my Dad's bed. The 2 of them took over the entire, king-sized bed.
When we got back to pick them up my parents were in very good moods and just laughing and happy recounting their adventures.
My Dad said "I don't wanna do it every weekend, but it was fun!" And today, they lazed around, recovering! (Ok, so did we!)

We drove down and were in the parking lot by 5. We tailgated with some crazy people who were "celebrating Grandpa's life" while they were in NY for his funeral. I peed in the cleanest Port-o-Potty ever and then we went into the game.
Personally, I really tried to eat everything they were selling but I couldn't. There was just too much food.
We drank a few beers, saw a pitcher's duel, a homerun and left before the game went into extra innings. We heard the Mets win (on the Fan) just as we were landing back in Brewster.
Seriously - we had so much fun.

Thank you.
To Vincent, for giving us the tickets and the excuse to be fun and hang out as a couple for so many hours.
And to my Parents, for allowing us to do so.

Friends.
It's such a simple word but it has such meaning.

If you like someone, see them around a lot... maybe your kids play together... you don't know each other well but there is a likeness and a happiness when you're together... are you "friends"?
People don't say "acquaintance" so much anymore.
But to call someone a "friend" is a bit of a commitment, isn't it?

Obviously, I can only speak for myself but I have not had very many real, true "friends" in my life.
I have had a few that were and still are my friends - but calling them that almost seems silly. Truly, they are my family.

But now you cross over into the other side of friendship where, while some of my friendships are 20+ years old, they are still just "friends" where I have other friendships that are less than a year old and they somehow hold that same title?

And what defines a friend anyway? Regardless of length of time together, how do you determine who and what make up a real friend for you?

I have my sisters. They are my friends. They love me and trust me and listen to me and allow me to be myself without judgment. And I do the same for them.
But not everyone has that relationship with their sister. I am fortunate to have that two-fold.

I have my BFF, Michele and that friendship has sustained and grown infinitely in the 20+ years we have held on. And with that friendship I have the added bonus of calling her sisters my best friends, as well as her husband.

Let's get back to definition.

My friend Nicole said to me once, "I have different friends that suit different moods of mine. Today I was in the mood for Liz."
I thought that was brilliant. We had a fabulous day. But I haven't seen her since then - and it was warm! Has she not been int he mood for me or me for her? We talk on FB and email and I do truly like and enjoy her. But we are very, very different so maybe that's just it - maybe we're "Summer Friends". We love the beach and doing stuff outside with our kids so maybe I'll see her soon.

I am a stay-at-home mom in a rural community. In my MOMS Club I have become friendly with a lot of different moms in town.

There are a few I really don't like as I am sure there are a few that really don't like me.

There are a few that I had an instant connection with only to find out that I was reading them all wrong and I either have nothing in common or found out they were completely insane.

There are a few that I really like, they really like me but our kids are different ages so our social contact is limited. I could easily call those people "acquaintances" but that is such a cold word. And I really do enjoy these women when we see each other at Book Club or what have you... so, I call them friends. But then I find myself caveating with "well, I don't really know her, I just really like her."

There are many that I see a lot of and I enjoy being with. Our kids play well together and we always have something to talk about. Are they my friends? Could I call them if I needed them? Would I ask hem to babysit one kid if I had to take the other kid somewhere and couldn't bring both?
Probably not.

So - that leaves me with the very small circle of women I have found my comfort zone with.
My "Mom Friends". Why do I have to title them so specifically?
Because I wouldn't know them without the MOMS Club? Maybe.
Because our main similarity is that we grew babies and now care for them? Maybe.
Because I am wary of calling them "friend" and lumping them in with Michele and Rachel? Maybe.

I really have no idea. They really are my friends. I really could call them up and drop my kids off at their house or borrow money for the movie or a cup of milk for one more bottle before I head to the grocery store.
And they could ask/do the same with me.

Same friend, Nicole, once called me "an M&M. you're hard on the outside, warm and sweet on the inside."
Paul "New Guy" once told a new employee at work that I was "tough on the outside, and a big moosh once you get to know" me.

I am not sure that's true. I also recall my high school music teacher telling me that my "life is an open book".
I think that was bit more right on.

I call it like I see it. Sometimes my first impression is right on and I am so proud of myself. Other times I think I can totally read someone and I am way off. Sometimes I fall in love with people right away, other times it takes me a while to warm up. Some people get more of me than they might like, other times I stay guarded. The only constant is my inconsistency.

So - this whole blog was to help me sort out what makes a "friend" but really, I have just been pondering how much I like my friends.
Sitting on the beach of a dirty little pond yesterday made me think "wow, I love this." I was with my 2 favorite "Mom Friends", in the sunshine listening to and watching my kids play with theirs while we caught up on everything from my trip to Deb's new Class to Joanne's skin care regime.
It was peaceful. And comfortable. And we were all ourselves - take us or leave us.

I just ate a hunk of Munson's Chocolate. Does that sound like a woman trying to lose 50 pounds?
No.
But it does sound like a woman who has been watching 2 kids in addition to her own 2 for 12 hours at a clip for the past 2 days and will be for the next 3, as well. That same woman who has been shit & puked on more times than she cares to recollect over the past 6 days. And that same woman who is just settling in to do some serious checkbook balancing and bill paying.
That is a woman who, although she is dieting, needs a hunk of Munson's.

Speaking of shit & puke. I don't know if it is the poly-blend or the cold water wash but I had to toss 2 sets of Wyatt's jammies back into the laundry tonight after putting them on his freshly clean and precious, puke & poop-free body. He had a nice tubby, I changed his sheets (for the 29th time this week) and was ready to put him in his crib, all cozy and sweet. But I smelled puke still. Convinced it was just burnt into my nose I called Jay in for a second sniff. Yes, he smelled puke, too.
Why is that?
I have been trying to use the Cold Water option on my washer to conserve energy. Is that it, ya think? Or is my All Free & Clear not puke-worthy? Or is it just the crappy poly blend that they make pajamas out of so the kids don't catch on fire?
I put the stuff back in, same detergent, same fabric - but with the regular, warm wash. If that doesn't work I'll be buying new jammies.

In my MOMS Club, I am a very active member. I love being a member and completely and totally appreciate the friends, connections and opportunities that have come my way since getting involved. I have been the Secretary on the Board and Editor of the Newsletter; currently I am the Calendar Coordinator and Mom's Night Out Planner.
With Cinco de Mayo around the corner, I have planned a fun night at a local, Gen-U-Ine Mexican Restaurant. They are having specials, give aways and a live band to celebrate! Fun, right?

It reminded me of a Mom's Night Out on Cinco de Mayo about 2 years ago.
It was a huge house party at one of the mom's houses. Her husband is a gourmet chef and they hosted this annual shindig, accepting only donations to a local charity for entry. When I say "gourmet", I am not kidding.
Anyway - I remember, very naive at the time, saying "wow, this is so fun, we should do this with our husbands, too." And one mom, Carissa, who I cherish as a friend now but didn't know very well then said to me "this ain't about them, this is our night out."
And I remember thinking "ew, guess she doesn't like her husband very much. I like to be with my husband as much as I can. I have the happiest marriage ever."
I laugh at myself now because I am where Carissa already was then, now. And recently a newer mom said to me "can myhusband come out with us to XX?"
My response?
"No. It ain't about him. This is for you. Go out with him another time."
I can only hope that her day will come, too, that she will know that I truly only have her best interests in mind and we all need a night out. Even if it is only once a month.
All of us need a night off. From all of it.

Remember the scene from YaYa's when all 4 kids are puking and shitting and Ashley Judd is freaking out?!
Well, last night wasn't quite that bad - but it was not fun.

Wywy had his very first "puke sick" and he was pathetic and adorable.

He would throw up, then cry, then pass out. I put him in his crib twice, only to have to change the sheets (and his pajamas) each time before I finally got wise and just took him and a few towels, tissues and baby wipes into my bed where I could hold him and catch his spew.
We went through the night with some puking, followed by some crying, followed by some very pathetic cries of "mama" before he would fall back to sleep.
If I tried to put him down, on my bed, right next to my body, he would wake up, cry sadly for "mama" and then climb back onto my body. He had to be on me. And that's ok. I just held him.

My poor, sweet, angel baby boy.

Then, this morning, Abby had a similar bug but her's came in the form of diarrhea. I will spare you the very disgusting, very detailed descriptions that I am so tempted to write out. But, all in all, she wasn't bothered by it, just inconvenienced. And she'll be quite angry when she finds that she is not allowed to play with the other kids today.

Why?
Because I am not one of those mothers who allows her children out to infect everyone else's children because it's "easier" or because "they really want to play" or because they would "be so disappointed".

Tough shit. Life happens. You're sick, you can't play. Tomorrow is another day.

I will make the afternoon fun, but within our own germ-sphere, not out in the 'hood.

And to all those that do allow their children (or yourselves) to infect the rest of us... this is for you: