Busted!!

Ha ha ha ha ha... Hubby found my blog! I don't know what he thinks about it yet. (So what do you think honey?) He hasn't told me he found it, aside from the subtle hints that I pretended not to pick up on... Hmmm, nick-names for the kids? I don't have any nick-names for the kids!!! Why would you ask me that? Or me? Do I call myself something... like Babaloo? Hello! Where would you get that? Hmmm, what do I really think about #91 (which is not a nick-name) moving out? Well, we've talked about it a million times. Did you, umm, read something different somewhere that I haven't expressed verbally?

Okay... I did feel very bad the other day when you asked me if I was "talking" to somebody online (Ewe!!) I would never do that. N-E-V-E-R. Besides being wrong on so many levels, it is just plain yucky. Yes, I have this blog. It is something I started doing at work for fun. I never meant to keep any secrets from you. It's just that there aren't many things in my life that are just mine. You know? Besides, I didn't think anyone would ever really read it.

I wish you would have waited a few more days because I have something special to post for our anniversary and I was going to send you a link so you could read it. (((Sigh))).

Okay, so I came clean. Now you come clean and tell me you read this!

Most Quotable Friday

"And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the

bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

-Anais Nin

"Yesterday is not ours to recover, but tomorrow is ours to win or to lose."

-Lyndon B. Johnson

"Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much."

- Oscar Wilde

"Believe those who seek the truth; doubt those who find it."

- Andre Gide

"Rudeness is a weak imitation of strength."

- Eric Hoffer

It took 24 years, but he's finally leaving the nest

Or... "Two Down, Two To Go..."

#91 is moving out. This weekend! It is real, I even saw it. A key! That isn't to my front door. A key that opens a different door. A door that opens to a different home. A home where I don't live. I finally have my washer and dryer back. I have my Diet Cokes all to myself. If I run out of bleach or laundry detergent... it's because I used them! I will have a parking spot in my driveway. Every day! OMG, when we come home late and go to the refrigerator to heat up leftovers for dinner... There. Will. Be. Leftovers. In the fridge to heat up! No more cursing the emergency mac & cheese! Oh, and when I buy tuna, I'll actually get to use it. There will be a normal number of towels in the bathroom, two! One for each remaining child. OMG, the kids can now keep their towels in the bathroom. Why? They couldn't before because #91 required three towels for himself (which took up all the towel rack space). I can't explain why he needed three towels to take a shower, it's not like he alternated them, he actually used all three after each shower. I won't have to stress out when I go into the garage and see freshly laundered t-shirts hanging all over (on the backs of chairs, my treadmill, the bicycles, the kids' hockey net) for days and days until I can't stand it any longer and gather them all up in a pile and put them on his bed. If there are dishes in the sink or lying around, it will be because I used them. I'll never have to worry again about how many eggs I have left in the carton. I could go on... but I won't.

You, internet, who take these little things for granted, have no idea the freedom I feel right now.


(((Sigh))), I guess here is the part where I should get all nostalgic and remember all the good times and what #91 means to me and what I will miss not having him live under my roof. Well, okay. I love my (step) son. I have raised him as my own since the age of 10. But? I just don't feel that at the age of 24 I (we) am doing him any favors by having him live here anymore. I feel like he is 3 or 4 years behind the learning curve on living on his own, budgeting his money, paying rent, food and utilities. He has always been a late bloomer so maybe logistically this makes perfect sense. He has been in and out of community college since his graduation from high school and nothing has seemed to take with him. He has a truly altruistic job working with special needs kids and he is really good at it. However, sometimes I just get the feeling he thought he would be living with us forever.

For example, the following is a conversation between him and hubby on Father's Day:

#91: "...yeah, but you know in Mexico (hubby is from Mexico and #91 was born and raised there until he was 9) you stay at home until you're like 30 or 35."

Me: wincing at the anticipated verbal onslaught Hubby is about to bring...

Hubby: "Yeah, but your whole paycheck goes to your parents, you are available 24/7 to whatever is needed around the house. If something needs to be fixed or someone needs a ride you are there to take care of it. You don't stay out all night, sleep all day and you certainly don't have your own room. Where does your paycheck go son?"

#91: "Umm. Nevermind."

Hubby: "Are you going to wash my car for Father's Day?"

#91: "Uh, I have to go somewhere right now. Can I do it later?"

Hubby: "mmmm..."

So? He has his key. He is moving to his new place this weekend. And? We all start on this new phase of our lives. In my case, with all the Diet Coke I can drink, 24/7 laundry priveleges, and my own parking space for the next 5 years until Woody starts driving, doing his own laundry and, God forbid, starts drinking Diet Coke.

Yes, life is good...

End of school Lunch...

Aaahhh... last day of school. My kids and I have made it a tradition that on the last day of school we go out to lunch and see a movie. This year being no different I picked them up at 12:15 on their last day and off we went to our traditional "lunch and a movie."

We decided on a lunch establishment close to the movie theater. Midway through our meal I glanced at the time and realized we were a bit pressed if we wanted to catch the movie we had picked out. I finished quickly and urged the kids to do the same. I found myself scolding Buzz for playing with a toy car instead of eating and noticed a man glancing, repeatedly, over at us.

He was dressed in a suit and was seated at a table for two with another gentleman also dressed in a business suit. I was a little embarassed because I thought perhaps we were disturbing his important business lunch. I looked around and took note of the noise level and excluded the option that we were too loud. I noticed other tables with like aged children and even some with younger ones as well. So, he couldn't be annoyed that my children in particular were bothering him and his client. The place was about 3/4 full with a mix of different people. I didn't get it. What was his problem?

Why did his glances turn in to dirty looks when we made eye contact? Because my son's car "crashed" to the floor a few times? I picked it up, put it in my purse and told him to finish his lunch. What else could I possibly do? Why did this guy seem so pissed? We finally finished and were heading out the door when I realized the silliness of the whole situation. So? I gave the well dressed business man one last glance and as our eyes met I gave him a raised-eyebrow-get-over-yourself-you-pompous-ass-because-your-lame-ass-dirty-looks-are-not-going-to-ruin-my-traditional-end-of-school-lunch-with-my-kids look and walked out gracefully.

Did I mention we were in a fucking McDonald's? What an ass.

Most Quotable Friday

To look at something as though we had never seen it before requires great courage.

- Henri Matisse

People are like stained glass windows: they sparkle and shine when the sun's out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is light within.-

Elizabeth Kubler-Ross

Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.

- Carl Bard

If you want happiness for an hour—take a nap.

If you want happiness for a day—go fishing.

If you want happiness for a month—get married.

If you want happiness for a year—inherit a fortune.

If you want happiness for a lifetime—help others.

- Chinese Proverb

Those who do not know how to weep with their whole heart don’t know how to laugh either.

- Golda Meir

9/11 A Fifth Anniversary Tribute

All-


Dale is putting together a wonderful project that we all can be a part of. I don't have much traffic on my blog, but I know some of you that occasionally visit have a lot of readers. It would be great if you could promote it on your blogs to help get the ball rolling. He is asking for 2,995 fellow bloggers to join him in paying tribute to each of the 2,996 victims who died in the terrorist attacks on 9/11. Everyone participating will recieve a name of someone who died that day and your job is to write a tribute to that person and post it on your blog on 9/11/06.

The fifth anniversary already, can you believe it? I got my name yesterday. Go visit his sight if you are interested and pass it along. Right now he has just over 200 participants so he still needs more to reach the 2,996 mark. There are graphics and links for you to use for your tribute... So PLEASE check it out.

***update*** I should have mentioned previously that I first heard about this project from TKW on her blog "The Kept Woman." Thanks TKW!!

Road Rage?

According to this article some “doctors” say that road rage is an actual mental disorder called intermittent explosive disorder. And? Maybe in some cases they are right.

The article says “road rage, temper outbursts that involve throwing or breaking objects and even spousal abuse can sometimes be attributed to the disorder, though not everyone who does those things is afflicted.”

Also from the article: “By definition, intermittent explosive disorder involves multiple outbursts that are way out of proportion to the situation. These angry outbursts often include threats or aggressive actions and property damage. The disorder typically first appears in adolescence.”

But? I also think there is another disorder going on out there on the roads that isn’t covered in the medical journals. I call it Entitlement Driving Disorder (or EDD). It is defined by someone who, while behind the wheel, acts on feelings of entitlement and self-importance giving them the distorted view that they are above traffic laws, basic driving etiquette and that their final destination is more important than anyone else. In other words, sufferers of EDD own the road, and the rest of us are just renting.

Here are some real life (mine) examples. Please answer either a or b depending on what action you would take in the following situations:

1. You are on the freeway in somewhat heavy (commute time) traffic. As you near your exit you see cars starting to slow down in the right lane. Knowing the lane will soon turn into an “exit only” lane do you a) merge immediately into the lane behind all the cars already slowing and take your appropriate place in line or do you b) speed up, pass all the slowing cars and cut in front of a large red SUV at the last second to exit the freeway.

2. It is your morning commute and you are on the expressway heading toward the exit for the freeway. Your lane (to enter the freeway going north) is bumper to bumper. The other lane (to go south on the freeway) is flowing at a nice pace. Do you a) stay in your lane and wait your turn to enter the freeway or do you b) get into the lane that is for the southbound entrance, bypass all cars heading for the north entrance and force your way in front of a large red SUV at the last second to get into the northbound lane.

3. You are merging on to an expressway where eventually (as in not immediately) you will need to move over four lanes to get to the far left lane in order to make a left turn. Do you a) merge immediately and move over one lane at a time when space is available or do you b) wait and wait and wait and wait and wait and wait (yes, there is a line forming behind you including a large red SUV that is backing traffic up) and wait and wait and wait and wait (and wait) until ALL four lanes are clear and then “merge” onto the expressway and cross all four lanes at the same time?

If you answered “b” to any of these examples (and I don’t mean you did it once because you were rushing someone to the hospital or weren’t familiar with the area and didn’t know which lane you were supposed to be in, but that you do these things regularly because you truly believe you are entitled to exhibit these behaviors) then you suffer from EDD and I hate you.

I think in some extreme cases that "road rage" could be in fact intermittent explosive disorder. But mostly? I think it just us plain old average folk, standing up to the EDD people and saying “We are tired and we’re not going to take it anymore!” "So, wait your fucking turn, don’t fucking cut me off and oh BTW if you check your owner’s manual you’ll find that little knob thing on the left hand side of your steering wheel ( I know you probably don’t want to touch it with all the "yucky" layers of dust it must have on it), it’s called a blinker and we’d really fucking appreciate it if you would USE it once in awhile."

That is all.

Good thing I'm planning the schedule

I had the kids at my office for an unusual 2 hours the other day. Usually they are there for no more than 15- 20 minutes for me to wrap up and then get them to their practice. But, with school finishing up and their after school program ending (two weeks before school, what is up with that?) I picked them up from school and brought them to work. I knew I would have to get them busy with something or they would start bickering or playing soccer with balled up printer paper. I'm all about the proper office etiquette, and I'm pretty sure the boys rough housing wouldn't quite be considered "proper."
Fortunately, Buzz had homework. Unfortunately, Woody did not. I had to find something for him to do, and quick. I gave him a piece of paper and told him to write down his ideal summer schedule.
"What do you mean?"

"I mean, use your imagination and create the perfect summer schedule for yourself."

"For every day?"

I was losing him. "No," I said. "just do it for the one week in June and the one week in August that I have off that we are going to spend together. Write down everything that you want to do during that time and I'll take it into consideration when I'm planning out our schedules."

"Oh. Okay."

So, I gave him my little desk calendar and he sat down to do his task. Here is what he came up with:

Week 1:
Sunday- beach
Monday- walk dog & run (we take the dog on a walk and run laps at the middle school nearby)
Tuesday- library
Wednesday- Six Flags
Thursday- movies
Friday- Raging Waters (water park)
Saturday- bike ride

Week 2:
Sunday- bike ride
Monday- miniature golf or glow in the dark golf
Tuesday- walk dog
Wednesday- bowling
Thursday- real golf with friend "j" or anyone else that plays golf
Friday- Great America (amusement park)
Saturday- bike ride

He proudly handed me his schedule for me to read. After a few minutes he asked if I liked it. I told him it looked good and gave me a lot of good ideas for things to do. Which was true, I want to make sure we are all on the same page and I'm not just doing things that I think they want to do but would really rather be doing something else.
To which he said, "yeah, do you like how I balanced out the educational stuff with the fun stuff?"
I looked at it again, thinking maybe I missed something. "Um, what do you mean?"

"I put down going to the library." He said

"Yeah. One day. Out of fourteen! Where is the balance?"

"Well," he said thinking quickly. "There is a lot of physical fitness stuff too. So, that with the library and the fun stuff, is a good balance isn't it?"

"Yes, you are right," I said knowing that when I make the final schedule it would be a little more balanced but that that would be a battle for another day and today I would concede gracefully, "good job."

(ha ha, I said "that that")

Most Quotable Friday

Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.

- Mahatma Gandhi

The most difficult thing I have ever had to do is follow the guidance I prayed for.

- Albert Schweitzer

Swallow your pride occasionally, it's not fattening.

- Frank Tyger

Don't throw away the old bucket until you know whether the new one holds water.

- Swedish Proverb

If you are losing a tug-of-war with a tiger, give him the rope before he gets to your arm. You can always buy a new rope.

- Max Gunther

No more human development movies for you!

(prelude: Woody just got through seeing the human development movies, you know where the girls go off and see their own movie and the boys stay and watch the boy version... remind me to tell you how excited he was to recieve a free deodorant sample. why was he so excited? I have no idea, he's been wearing deodorant since he was 9.)

Since when are there cheerleaders in the NHL?

The kids and #91 were watching the end of game 1 of the Stanley Cup Finals the other day between, cough, Edmonton (who aren't the Sharks) and Carolina. I was in the kitchen getting dinner ready (and also not watching the game because it wasn't the Sharks and I just haven't been able to watch a game since they lost to, cough, cough, Edmonton a few weeks ago and were eliminated).

I guess it was a good game cuz I could hear the three of them "oohing" and "aahing" at different plays. "Turn it down!" I said. "Why do you have to have it so loud?" Hee, hee. We have it 3 times louder when the Sharks are playing. But, that doesn't matter, because this wasn't the Sharks and the volume was annoying me. I have to concentrate when boiling water for pasta.
"Mommy, come and see this play!" One of them said.
"No."
"Please? Hurry! You are going to miss it!"
"I'm busy." (the water was about to boil)
"MOMMY!"
"Ugh. okay. what is so spectacular?" (that wouldn't be better if the Sharks were playing)

Flash to cheerleaders (wtf?), cheering for the team (that wasn't the Sharks) that just scored a goal (that I didn't see because I was boiling water).

"He-llo!" said (soon to be 11) Woody (yes, in that guy-oooogling-a-hot-babe kind of way)

"What?"

"That's it! No more human development movies for you." (And turn off that game. That the Sharks are not playing in.)

UGH!!!

5 Months Without Chocolate

It has been 5 months since my last real taste of chocolate. Yes, you read that right. Say it with me. "5. Months. Without. Chocolate."

Why, you ask? Surely I must have been diagnosed with some rare allergy that would kill me or put me through terrible physical suffering and pain if I consume chocolate? Or, I must be one of those people who doesn't like chocolate? It could not possibly be that I willingly gave up chocolate by, like, choice? Noooooooooooooooooo!

Wait. It gets worse. Worse? How in the Hell can it possibly get worse than that? ((sigh)) It isn't only chocolate. It is all sweets in general. Chocolate is just what I miss the most. And ice cream (Ben & Jerry's Phish Food). And cheese cake. And cookies. And doughnuts... But I digress. It has been 5 months since any of this sinful food has touched my lips.

It started as a New Year's resolution. Now, if you knew me in real life, you would be laughing your ass off right now knowing that doesn't mean anything. Umm yeah, me? Not really a resolution person. However, 2005 was a year of many gains. Mostly on my scale. I stopped checking at twenty. I had to buy new pants (2 sizes bigger). So? I needed to do something and giving up the sweets is what I had to do in order to get healthy. Now before you get all "she should be nominated for sainthood" on me (cuz, you must be thinking that. I would) I haven't cut out all junk food or (not so) low fat foods. In fact, I do allow myself salty snacks. I know, I know, but in my chocoholic world it makes perfect sense. Chips, peanuts, popcorn... yeah, all that stuff is fine. Why? Because I can stop eating that kind of food. Don't get me wrong, I love potato chips (salt and vinnegar, please!), tortilla chips (pass the guacamole!), popcorn (extra butter for me), peanuts (forget about it). But after a prolonged period of consumption, I'm over it. I. Can. Stop.

Now, try that with a big bag of M&M's (no, not the wussy King size, I'm talking about the big bag you find in the bulk candy section... you know the kind you buy for parties (ha ha ha ha, parties!). Put that in front of me and I will eat to my heart's content. Until I'm sick even. Maybe (maybe not) I'll get tired of them and stop eating them, cuz, you know they're making me sick and all. But? An hour later I'm over it and back in the bag (or the second bag, you know how it is!) Halloween? OMG that holiday is a nightmare for me. All those varieties. And they're so small... it's just a mini chocolatey, sugary smorgesborg. And the older my kids get, the more of it they bring home!!! And I can't let them eat it, what with it being bad for them and all.

So, I'm not going to lie and tell you how easy it was and how after a few days I didn't even miss it. That's just bullshit. I mean I gave the stuff up, but my family and the rest of the world did not. There have been times. A lot of times where I've been all alone cleaning up the kitchen, and come face to face with an open bag of Oreos. Oh, the dilemma. To do the right thing? Or? Dip those beautiful little cookies in a glass of milk and... yummmm. Or there was the time hubby took the kids to 7-11 and they bought me a King size Hershey bar. That was back in February. I still have it. I keep it in my desk at work. I deemed it my "emergency" chocolate. My son doesn't believe that I can have it sitting there every day and not eat it. Every time he comes to my office he opens the drawer to see if it's still there.

I didn't really have a goal in mind or a certain amount of time. I certainly didn't give the stuff up forever. I just wanted to feel better. So, one week turned in to two, and then a month turned in to two months... and here I am at five whole months. I've lost some of the weight I gained last year. I've been running on the treadmill and recently I bought some new pants in my old size!

Before this the longest I ever went without sweets was 3 months. I have a birthday coming up in July. Well, not just any birthday. My 40th birthday. I think that will be a good day to indulge.
So, with 52 days (and counting) until the big day, I'm going to start planning my "Chocolate Birthday Menu."

Out of curiousity, what would you have if hadn't had chocolate (or your favorite dessert) in 7 months?

Birthday Remembrance

Today is my mom's birthday. She would have been 64 today. She died a year and-a-half ago in December 2004. It is very difficult for me to define our relationship. Which may be why it has been a strange journey for me since she has passed away.

Our relationship was not a close one. Let me try to explain. I loved her and I know she loved me in the best way that she was capable. I believe that she was a good person. She was a wonderful cook. She sewed beautiful dresses and clothing for me when I was a child. She was my Blue Bird / Camp Fire Girl Troop Leader. My friends adored her. She attended all my sporting events and extra curricular activities. She was always there and my brother and I never went without. She wanted the best for me and she wanted me to be the best. But? She also had her demons. She was an alcoholic. She was one of those functioning alcoholics that never drank during the day, but once it hit 5:00, the wine started pouring. I remember she would get antsy if we were out and wouldn't be home by 5. She also could be very critical of me. I was a reflection of her in her world. If I disappointed her, it made her look bad. In my tween years I began to overeat. A lot. I gained a lot of weight. My weight became a battle between she and I that has left me scarred to this day. As I grew up, became an adult and took ownership of my body, decisions and choices one of them was to distance myself from her. I attended Al-Anon and made a somewhat successful journey to physical and mental health. We still talked and visited, but I chose to keep things on a very superficial level. She never stopped drinking until she became ill.

My saving grace, or what finally brought a peace between us was when I made her a grandmother. The mutual love we had for my children gave us some neutral ground. I can't lie and say it brought us closer together or made our relationship stronger, but it did give us something in common.

It was Mother's Day two years ago when she first told me she was sick. At that time she didn't know what it was. She had back problems and her doctor told her it was arthritus (sp?). But, she said, she hadn't been herself since February, had lost her appetite and had lost a lot of weight. She also had not felt like drinking. The fact that she had stopped drinking was bittersweet. I knew something was terribly wrong. But, quick to be in denial, I let her assure me that everything was fine, that her doctor was running some tests and she was starting to feel better. Her and Dad had moved to Arizona some years earlier so I had to take her at her word that she was seeking help. We had plans to see her later that summer. My cousin was getting married in Portland and a big family wedding was planned for July.

When I first saw her that summer I was in complete shock. She had lost so much weight (she was not a large woman to begin with) and where there once was animation in her presence was now replaced with an almost sad-like quality. I just could not believe this was my mother.

Summer turned to fall and before I knew it Thanksgiving was upon us. I spoke to her on Thanksgiving and she sounded very tired. She didn't cook up her traditional feast and I was told she was on the couch most of the holiday weekend. About two weeks after that I got a call that she had been admitted to the hospital. She had passed out after leaving her doctor's appointment. They put her on oxygen and took her to Emergency. This was on a Monday. I called her that night at the hospital and she told me they diagnosed her with double pnemonia. I called the next day and she said they were going to drain fluid from her lung. I called Wednesday and she said she felt better after they drained her lung. When I called Thursday she was too tired to talk to me. By Saturday I was on a plane. I drove the two hours from the Phoenix airport and when I got to the house my dad met me outside. He was in tears. He couldn't talk. He choked out "she's dying. She has cancer. It's in her lungs." By Tuesday she was gone.

I know how everyone deals with death differently and everyone mourns in their own way. For me, the mourning and the missing my mom has come in waves. The first wave was taking care of my kids and seeing to their needs and answering their questions. The second wave was dealing with the holidays. Then? I don't know. I expected this big storm to erupt from within, but in never came. When Mother's Day came around, I thought, well this is it. This is when I will lose it and have a breakdown. Mother's Day came and went and with that was sadness and memories but not the storm I was expecting. Soon after that was her birthday. I, again, thought that would be the day and dreaded the days leading up to it. The day came and went. I mentioned to hubby that it was her birthday and he asked if I was okay, and? I was sad, but more than that I started questioning why I wasn't more... something, anything. I wondered why I was okay. It had been nearly six months since my mother, the woman that gave me life, had passed and why didn't I feel anything? I thought there was something wrong with me. I decided to just let it go. I couldn't force feelings or emotions out that weren't there.

A couple of weeks later on June 30th, my son's 10th birthday, I was driving to work. I still had a lot of last minute details to attend to for his birthday celebration, so I was going over a mental-checklist while I was driving. I remember thinking (among a hundred other things), "okay, I need to make sure we are home before 7:00 so we don't miss mom's phone call to wish Woody a happy birthday..." Almost as quickly as the thought crossed over in my mind I stopped. I felt my heart leap up into my throat and I couldn't breathe.

There would be no phone call. She wasn't calling. There would never be another birthday phone call. I started crying hysterically. I actually had to pull the car over. The storm I had been waiting for finally erupted.

I miss her. I do. Sometimes it hits me harder than others. Sometimes I miss the relationship we should have had, but never did. Mostly, I just miss catching her up on the kids and what has been going on in their lives and their activities. I know, whether real or imagined, I didn't live up to the dreams she had for my life. But, I am satisfied with knowing that I could bring a smile to her face just by sending her a photograph or passing on an antecdote about one of her grandkids.

Happy Birthday Mom.

Most Quotable Friday

Challenge is a dragon with a gift in its mouth... Tame the dragon and the gift is yours.

- Noela Evans

First keep the peace within yourself, then you can also bring peace to others.

- Thomas a Kempis

Fight for your opinions, but do not believe that they contain the whole truth, or the only truth.

- Charles A. Dana

Laughing at our mistakes can lengthen our own life. Laughing at someone else's can shorten it.

- Cullen Hightower

Treat people as if they were what they ought to be and you help them to become what they are capable of being.

- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Scary hormones strike early

The scary hormones were raging this morning. The good news? They didn't belong to anyone in my family. The bad news? They belonged to my neighbor. My very PREGNANT neighbor. My I'm-going-to-pop-out-this-kid-any-second-now-and-I'm-enraged-because-my-7-year-old-can't-find-his-shoe-and-is-going-to-be-late-for-school neighbor. Who, under normal circumstances is the sweetest, most doting, neighborly mom you'd ever want to meet. Really. You would love her. Anyone would.

She has two boys, the previously mentioned 7 year-old and a 3 year-old. This one is going to be a little girl. She is due on Saturday. Her husband leaves early in the morning for work and they only have one car, so for the duration of her pregnancy she has been walking "Johnny" the four blocks or so to school. She was doing fine up until about a month or so ago when she finally accepted my offer to take Johnny with me when I drop off my kids. So every morning I send one of my boys over to get him and off we go.

This morning I sent Buzz over to get him because he was the first one ready. He came back a few minutes later with a confused look on his face. "Where's Johnny?" I asked him. "Umm, I don't think he is going to school today." I asked if he was sick. "No, he can't find his shoe. And..." And what? "And, um. His mom is yelling at him. She told me he is not going to school."

This was definitely not about a missing shoe. I figured she would probably find his shoe and then try and take him to school herself if we left without him. I did not want that on my conscience all day so I sent Woody over to follow up and to see if we should wait. He came back a few minutes later with a very sad and weepy Johnny.

I felt so bad for him! Poor guy. So young to be a hormonal rage victim! I tried to tell him that his mommy is just really ready to have the baby and she's not really mad at him. He nodded, but I don't think he quite believed me. Then I made up a story about once when I was pregnant I threw one of Woody's shoes out in the street because I was mad that he couldn't find the other one. That got a smile. However, I'm sure he was probably planning how to find every single pair of shoes he owns and line them up next to his bed.

Just in case.

All good things must end...

...including the holiday weekend.

However, it didn't start out all that great. Our original plans to visit San Diego got cancelled (for reasons I won't go into), so I moped around the house, under the pretense of "cleaning" most of Saturday. We did get out of the house for little bit in the late afternoon, for (wooo hoo!) grocery shopping. Yes, I can be a fun one. Anyway, I yanked myself out of my "mood" by Sunday and, surprisingly, things looked up from there!

We went hiking Sunday morning and even took the dog (those are his ears at the bottom of the picture!). We don't usually take him out much in the car. He doesn't do well in the car. I had to pick him up and put him in the back seat, because he wouldn't willingly jump in. He must associate getting in the car with going to the vet. He cowered and shook on the floor of the car the whole way to the hiking spot. Once we got there, however, he was in heaven. The weather was great and didn't get too hot. We even saw a turtle swimming in the resevoir. We were trying to see some fish, so we were really surprised to see a turtle instead. It was pretty cool. As you can see from the picture, the water levels are pretty high from all the rain we had this season (or as I called it, "Seattle Lite"). Later in the afternoon I took the kids to see Over The Hedge. It was pretty good. There were some good messages in it about junk food and it totally made fun of suburban living. The kids orginally wanted to see Bench Warmers, which I didn't want to see, but it wasn't playing at the theater we went to. Fortunately, they didn't learn how to deal with disappointment from me and were able to pick another movie without any fuss at all!

Yesterday, we pulled out the boogie boards and wetsuits and headed for the beach. We did not take the dog this time. He must of thought we were taking him on another hike because he jumped in the car expectantly when we were loading up our stuff. I felt bad to take him back out, but there wouldn't be anyone to keep and eye on him when we were out in the water. I was not expecting it to be as nice as it was. I think it was even warmer at the coast than it was inland. The waves were nice and even Buzz started catching some smaller ones. In the past he has tried but after swallowing salt water (boogie boarding tip #1: keep your mouth closed) would give up and play in the sand or jump around in the water. This time he kept at it and was so excited when a wave pushed him all the way in to the sand. Woody and I tackled the bigger waves, which never seemed to stop. I (regrettably) didn't take any pictures of the beach because when I grabbed my camera out of the car I had flashbacks to how my last camera had $85 worth of damage when it got sand in it and decided to put it back. That was the beginning of the end for that camera. Oh well. It was a good day anyway, even if it wasn't digitally preserved.
Fast forward to today... and here I am in my office, wishing I was almost anywhere else... (((sigh))) Back to the old grind.

New Look

What do you think? I had some fun experimenting with the template and this is what I came up with. The background is from Citrus Moon (see link to the right). Does it seem too busy? I wanted the look to center around my new profile picture of the beach chairs, but there is way too much html to deal with so I'm going to kind of stick with the way it is for now before I mess everything up beyond repair. Opinions and html tips & secrets welcome.

Most Quotable Friday

Don't worry that children never listen to you. Worry that they are always watching you.

-Robert Fulghum

Fame is a vapor, popularity an accident, riches take wing, and only character endures.

-Horace Greeley

Worry is a misuse of the imagination.

-Dan Zadra

Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.

-Marcel Proust

The more I want to get something done, the less I call it work.

-Richard Bach

A New Decade

A little over two months to go before I turn the big 4-0. I'm feeling a lot differently toward the big day than I thought I would. Hubby turned 40 four years ago. At the time (me being the ripe age of 35, okay 35 and a half) I remember being glad it wasn't me! Yeah, I was so young and naive back then (snort!).

Now that it is looming closer it just doesn't seem like that big of a deal. I loved my thirties. It was a great time for me. Every year of my thirties seemed to give me more strength and and security in being myself. I definitely loved my thirties more than my twenties. Not that my twenties were bad, I just didn't know how to live my life until I was in my thirties. For sure I loved my twenties more than my teens (better known as the dark ages). My teenage years sucked. I would not go back to any age in my teens for all the money, power, beauty, knowledge, treasure in the world. If some higher being offered me world peace and an end to world hunger in exchange for me becoming a teenager again, my apologies to the world... I just couldn't do it. If I could go back in time and visit my teenage self I would slap her silly and tell her to get over herself. Ugh, she (me) was such a whiner! That Mark Twain quote at the top of my blog? That was me as a teen thinking the world owed me something just because I was born. Can you imagine? Maybe you can. I hope not, but maybe.

So, looking at this trend of loving and enjoying each decade of my life more than the next, why shouldn't I look forward to my forties? I'm sure I'll hit some rough spots what with the whole menopause thing happening with teenagers in the house (I have heard some horror stories from others, trust me!) However, I already raised two teenagers with babies and toddlers in the house, so I should be more than prepared for the next wave of teenagedom to storm through my life, hot flashes and all.

Besides the above mentioned "roughage" I'm sure that my forties will be a great time for me. As the kids grow up I'll have more time to myself, right? I'll have more time alone with hubby (we have a lot of catching up to do). I look forward to more self-awareness, shedding some old skin and dropping some of the old baggage I've been carrying around.

Yes, I am okay with turning 40, bring it on.

WARNING!!!

I am currently writing this post by hand (hopefully to be typed into Blogger later today...) because I think I may have killed my computer. Not even my computer. My work computer. I am so dead. Why? Because dear internet I was browsing your blogs when an adware (spyware) program called "SpySheriff" wormed its way in.

DON'T MESS WITH THIS ADWARE IF YOU SEE IT!! PLEASE CLOSE IT THROUGH YOUR TASK MANAGER AND IMMEDIATELY SCAN YOUR COMPUTER FOR INFECTIONS OR POSSIBLE THREATS!!

This thing got into my registry and installed other programs that got to my e-mail and tried to turn it into a "spam box", changed my internet preferences, started running new processes and all kinds of other nasty things that my tech-challenged brain cannot fully fathom. Thank all that is good in the world for our company's IT guy. He said it is possible that someone's blog out there may have been hijacked and is sending out this adware/spyware (wtf is the difference?) via that blog's host. The question is whose? And? Do I dare venture out there again? I love all the blogs out there that I visit regularly. But, is going to visit worth risking the health of my (company's) computer, uh, and therefore (I would imagine) my job security?

Well, I'm going to go post this now. If you don't read this, it's because I didn't make it back in one piece...

It's Happening

A few days after I wrote this post I was completely floored when hubby told me two little girls from Woody’s school came over to our house... to see Woody! They just showed up. Out of the blue! Hubby said he had the garage door open and the girls walked right up the drive way and started asking him questions. Hubby said Woody ran away to his room to hide (er, I mean went to his room to change his clothes for soccer practice) which left hubby there with the girls. He said they kept going non-stop...

“Are you Woody’s dad?” (yes)
“Does Woody play soccer?” (yes)
“Are you Woody’s coach?” (yes)
“Are you the head coach?” (yes)
“We play soccer at school. Woody is really good, he plays all the positions.” (uh huh...)

Then? They started looking around the garage and trying to see inside the house.

“Who is that?” pointing to a caricature drawing on the wall of Woody’s older brother playing hockey. (That’s Woody’s brother)
“Oh, does he play hockey?” (he used to.)
“Does Woody play hockey?”(no)
“Then whose trophies are those? Are they Woody’s brother’s trophies?” (yes)
“Do you guys have a big back yard?” (yes)
“Woody says you have a big back yard. Do you have a big net in your back yard?” (no)
“Why not?” (because we got rid of it)
“We’d really like to see your back yard. Can we see your back yard.?” (maybe another time when Woody’s mom is here.)

According to hubby, between every question they would look at each other and giggle and one of them would whisper something to the other and then the next question would come. Finally hubby went to go find Woody. He told him to come and take care of his friends and Woody asked him, “What? They’re still here?” (yes)

Sigh, even though I have been through this before (twice) with the older (step) kids it still seems a little sad some how. I know this was innocent and Woody did not encourage these girls to come over (much less invite them), but it is the beginning. It’s how it all starts and there is no turning back time.

And me? I’m left with the haunting echo of two 10-year old girls giggling (in that way) over my baby.

"If Mama Ain't Happy...

... Ain’t nobody happy.” Have you ever seen this bumper sticker?

While I don’t display it proudly on my automobile, I have adopted it, in principle, as one of my mantras. I mean, in very simple terms, doesn’t it basically spell out the very road map to everyone’s happiness? And shouldn’t our children be given the opportunity to take ownership of their own happiness?

I repeat this mantra (a lot) and took a few liberties by making up some variations for my kids to recite. For example, I’ll say “if mommy’s happy...” And they’ll say, “then, we’re all happy.”
Not much of a variation, I’ll admit. But from that comes:

(me) “If Mommy wants to go shopping...” (them) “...we all want to go shopping.”
(me) “If Mommy wants to take the dog for a walk...” (them) “...we all want to take the dog for a walk.
(me) “If Mommy wants you to clean up your stuff...” (them)"...we all want to clean up our stuff.”

One night (when hubby was home) the kids and I got into it about them not finishing their homework and various other things that I had told them to do and that they had, to that point, ignored me. So, I started my rant, “Come on you guys, you know that if mommy wants you do your homework...”
“We all want to do our homework.”
And you know that if Mommy wants you to take out the recycling and garbage...”
(them) “We all want to take out the recycling and garbage.”
“And if mommy wants to turn off the t.v.?”
(them, grumbling) “We all want to turn off the t.v.”

Hubby looked at me like “they spend way to much time with you.” And I looked back at him like “what are you going to do about it?” Ha ha ha ha. I think he was just jealous. Because, you know, “if Dad ain’t happy... I don’t know, go find mama until he gets over it.” Is not really fodder for a bumper sticker. So he was jealous. Definitely.

Last Friday I needed to get Buzz to bed early because he had an early morning soccer game the next day. I talked to him about it earlier in the day and explained to him that we would have to leave the house even earlier than we do on a school morning so we needed to get to bed early as if it were a school night. He understood, however, when it was bed time, he wasn’t ready to go to bed. So, I had to push him a little bit to get ready for bed, brush his teeth, etc. Finally, I corralled him in his room where he was still resisting and told him that we had talked about this earlier and he knows why he has to go to bed early. “Why do we have to go to bed early tonight” I asked him. His answer? “ I know, I know, because when mommy wants to go to bed early, we all want to go to bed early.” Um, yeah. Not the answer I was going for, but right on!
I was never prouder! That’s my boy.

Of course there has been some mocking of the “mama mantra.” One time Woody asked me if I wanted a Diet Coke. I told him “sure, thanks.” And off he went to the garage (where we have a second fridge to store sodas and bottled water). He came back with 5 Diet Cokes in his arms and handed one to me. “What are you doing?” I asked. “Mommy, you know. When mommy wants a Diet Coke... we all want a diet coke.”

Grrrr. That’s hubby’s boy.

Most Quotable Friday

Self-pity is our worst enemy and if we yield to it, we can never do anything wise in this world.

Helen Keller

The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.

Emily Dickinson

Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies within us while we live.

Norman Cousins

Let no one come to you without leaving better and happier.

Mother Teresa

If one is lucky, a solitary fantasy can totally transform one million realities.

Maya Angelou

Sometimes You're The Dog...

And sometimes you're the hydrant...

Oilers (dogs) - 2

Sharks (hydrant) - 0

Series Final : Oilers 4 (games)

Sharks 2 (games)

It is officially over. Our household is in mourning. ((((Heavy Sigh))))

You have a list? For me?

Hubby called yesterday as he was leaving the house to drop off the kids at my office. This is sort of our almost daily routine. His work hours are from 6am to 2:30pm, and mine are from whenever I get to the office until 5ish (or whenever the boss isn’t paying attention). I take the kids to school in the morning and he picks them up in the afternoon. Between his small business and bartending part-time he is usually on-the-go most evenings. It is very convenient and a good compromise for him to bring the kids to my office, from where I can take them home or to one (or both) of their soccer practices.

But Tuesday? That is usually my day off. On Tuesdays Hubby will drop off only Buzz, take Woody to practice and pick him up afterwards. This allows me to go home, clean, make dinner, check homework and hopefully get Buzz in the shower before Hubby and Woody get home. Did I say day off? Well, more like my “catch up on household chores day.” If things don’t get done, they get put off until Tuesday.

So, hubby calls and asks if I can bring Woody to his practice (for reason xyz) then he’d pick him up. I’m thinking, that puts me behind schedule by 30 minutes, but fine, we do what we have to do, right? Then he says, “Four things.”
I’m thinking, 4 things? That sounds like a list. I asked him if I need to be writing this down.
“No,” he says. “Number 1.”
Number 1? "This sounds like a list, are you giving me a list?"
“No,” he insisted.
Okay.
“Number 1 (why does this sound like a list?) Can you water the new plants?”
Okay, that sounded simple enough. I can do that when I first get home before I start cleaning the bathrooms.
“Number 2 (there he goes again), “Can you stop somewhere and buy me some (hair) gel?"
Now, I’m irritated. Why? Because I already told him (when he told me he was out after I got back from grocery shopping on Saturday) that he could use Woody’s gel until I went to the store again. To which, btw, he agreed.
“Number 3,” (without waiting for a reply to number 2) “Can you have the letter ready for me that I asked you to write?”
WTF? The letter? (The letter that he said “we’d talk about later,” every time I asked him what he wanted it to say) UGGGGHHHHH!
“I haven’t written it yet.” I told him. “Oh”, he says. “Why not?”
“Because,” I said a little too calmly. “I didn’t know what you wanted it to say.”
This went back and forth for a minute until he lost his train of thought and forgot what #4 (on his list that wasn’t a list) was going to be.

Hubby and I have been married for nearly 14 years. He should know by now when not to mess with me, er, talk to me, er request anything of me that might sound reasonable to him, but might not be to, ugh, me. I leave hints for him to recognize when these moments may be on the horizon, but he doesn’t always pick up on them. For example, I’ll leave my box of tampons on the bathroom counter. Or, I’ll comment on how I have to order a new prescription of bc pills, “ahem, these are gone, which means I’m going to start soon...” Or, I'll ask him if he has seen my Motrin. You know my Motrin, for you know, that time.
Now? I’m thinking of just sending him monthly e-mails.

Dear Honey-
Your wife is getting her period next week. Avoid talking to her if at all possible. Bring chocolate if you like, but don’t expect her to show any gratitude (I’m pretty sure she’ll eat it though). Don’t ask her what’s for dinner, don’t ask her to iron your shirt and don’t, what ever you do, do not give her a list, even a verbal, over the phone, this-isn’t-a-list, list. You’ve been properly warned.
Love,
Your Wife ( the list giver, not the list getter)

Random Freak Out #277

Is there a class that teaches you how to change? Or, to accept change? Or, teaches you to take a random comment that gets you thinking about the future and not to completely freak out about it?

Because, yesterday Woody was practicing with Buzz's soccer team (the coaches like him a lot and always ask him to help out with the younger boys) and the following conversation took place between me and another mom as we were watching the kids play:

Other Mom (OM): "So, is he in 8th grade?"

Me: "Who?"

OM: "Woody."

Me: "Woody?"

OM: "Yeah."

Me: "No, he is in 5th grade. He's only 10!"

OM: (mouth open in embarrassed disbelief) "He's only 10?"

Me: "Well, he'll be 11 next month, why?"

OM: (giggling) "Oh, I thought he was like 13, because my niece saw him the other day and thought he was cute."

Me: "How old is your niece?"

OM: (laughing) "Oh, she is 13, that's why I thought they were the same age."

Me: "Why are you laughing?"

OM: "Oh, I'm sorry. I was just thinking about how much I'm going to tease her the next time I see her and tell her the boy she thought was cute is a 5th grader!!!

Me: "Oh. Heh, heh."

And then I got quiet. I wasn't offended or anything. She wasn't out of line or inappropriately laughing at my son. No, I got quiet because I was thinking, 13? How can you (anyone) look at him and think he was 13? And then I looked again. I tried to see him as someone I'd never seen before and imagining someone telling me he was 13. And OMG he could totally be 13! Then? I realized he will be 13... someday. And, oh god, girls will like him.

Then I passed out. And woke up two hours later in the emergency room...No, I'm kidding. But I do freak out over this stuff and I really need to learn to get over it and accept change and accept them growing up and accept that (gulp), Girls. Will. Like. Them. er, someday that is.

The Really (really) Long Post About Mother's Day...With A Surprise Twist and Happy Ending

(This is really long, if you are going to try and get through it, you might want to schedule in a bathroom break. I took two while I was writing it...)



I was feeling a little melancholy going into Mother’s Day weekend this year. Since becoming a mom, I have always loved Mother’s Day. My kids get very into it and I get lots of “I Love You’s” and unexpected hugs and kisses during the day. This year was no different. Hubby brought flowers Saturday night. Buzz (who wasn’t able to wait until Sunday) gave me his little gift he made in school as I walked in the door on Friday. Woody surprised me Saturday night by making fruit salad! It was all so endearing. Sunday they all gave me cards that they had proudly picked out themselves... it was wonderful. However, I just couldn’t shake the heaviness I was feeling. Sigh. I was PMSing which, for me, just exacerbates any negativity or irrationality I’m feeling anyway. I just wanted to be by myself...but couldn’t (you know?). I also, in the back of my mind, started thinking about my own mom and how this was the second Mother’s Day I would spend without her since she died.

Then, Sunday? Just went completely out of control (well, from my melancholy and PMSing perspective).

Woody had a soccer game (yes, on Mother’s Day). For every mile that we drove to get to the field the temperature seemed to rise incrementally (this is spring people!). It was 95 degrees at 4:30 when we headed for home. On the way home? My car broke down. On the freeway. Twenty miles from home. Sigh. So, I’m sitting there on the freeway, with my kids, on Mother's Day, waiting for a tow truck and they are being so sweet, apologizing to me because I was having a “sucky” Mother’s Day.

We get the car home ($130 towing charge, thank-you-very-much, not). I had the same problem a few weeks ago and it turned out it was the fuse that controls the fuel system. The same fuse blew out again. #91 went to Kragen and bought some fuses for me and replaced the one that was broken. Sidenote: Something (read: expensive) is causing the fuse to blow so I definitely have to have it serviced and get the fuel pump checked out.

About an hour later (after fixing the fuse and getting the car to start) the kids reminded me that we were going to order pizza for dinner (and watch the Sharks’ game) and could I order it now? I went to get my phone out of my purse, and guess what? It wasn’t there. It wasn’t anywhere. Will this day never end? I re-traced my steps and realized I must have left it in the cab of the tow truck. I called the number (on the $130 receipt) of the tow truck company. After I explained what happened, they told me I had to call Triple A to find out who the driver was. Called Triple A, stayed on hold for 20 minutes. Talked to someone who would locate driver and could I hold again? At which point I accidentally hung up the phone. Without giving her my home phone number... Ugh! Called again, waited 20 more minutes to get through to an operator to explain, again, what happened. They promise to contact the tow truck driver, and have the tow truck company call me about my phone. The tow truck company called back an hour later... The driver did not find my phone.

So where the hell is it? Shit like this drives me absolutely crazy. This out-of-control, my-memory-is-playing-tricks-on-me, what-is-going-to-happen-next (?) mentality makes me really think I am losing my mind. I had my phone with me, people, when I called for a tow truck on the freeway!!! We did not get back in the car, we got into the cab of the tow truck. I did not call anyone when we got home, so if it is not in my purse, then, where is it now? Still on the freeway? The kids (trying desperately to salvage this day for me) started calling my cell phone from the house phone while walking around to see if they can hear the ringer. They didn’t find it. Then? (after I gave up on the phone thing) We sat and watched our beloved Sharks lose (fall apart right in front of our eyes) a third strait game. They are all but eliminated from the playoffs. Game 6 is Wednesday in the other team’s arena and it will take a miracle for them to win there and force a game 7. Heartbreaking. I was literally heartbroken. So, I did the only thing left to do. I let myself be overwhelmed. I embraced all the negativity, heaviness, out-of-controlness and frustration I felt and let it take over.

I went in my room and cried. I cried for my mom. I cried for realizing that it was on Mother’s Day two years ago that mom first told me she was sick. She hadn’t been diagnosed with cancer yet, but they knew (she knew) something was terribly wrong. I cried for thinking this was why I had been feeling so down the past few days but wouldn’t allow myself to think about it. I cried for all the little things my family did for me and how I tried to show my appreciation but it just wasn’t enough to bring over the brink I had fallen into that day. I cried for how sweet they had been all weekend and how lucky I was to have them. I cried for feeling out of control. I cried for my stupid phone which was probably on the shoulder of the freeway. I cried for spending $130 on a tow truck when there are much better things I could use that money for. I cried for feeling alone (even though I wanted to be alone).

After completely purging myself into my pillow, I drifted off to a peaceful sleep... until about an hour and a half later when hubby came home. Guess what he had with him? (here is the surprise twist) My f-ing phone! How, you ask? After I had put the kids to bed and before my crying session I called hubby to update him about the car and told him about my phone. I explained the whole thing to him about the tow truck, etc, etc. When he got home he checked out the car and also called my cell phone just to be sure it wasn't in the car. He said he heard it beeping in the back cargo area.

You see, when we waited for the tow we pulled out the fold-up chairs to sit in because it was to hot to sit in the car. Apparently when I put them back in the car I folded the phone up with one of the chairs and only assumed I had put it in my purse... Do I suck or what? Well, at least my recall does.

I guess that is sort of a happy ending right? And I do feel much better today.

Most Quotable Friday

The trouble with most of us is that we would rather be ruined by praise than saved with criticism.
-Anonymous

Life is like riding a bicycle. You don't fall off unless you stop pedaling.
-Anonymous

Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and discover they were the big things.
-Anonymous

Always remember that hindsight is the best insight to foresight.
-Anonymous

True friendship is like sound health; the value of it is seldom known until it is lost.
-Charles Caleb Colton

Of what help is a friend who can only be approached with the right words?
-Elizabeth Bibesco

Lines

Feeling quite linear today... don't know why.


How about you?

A Geek Like Me

Have you ever met your geeky twin? You know, that one person that has the same obsession (that you don't necessarily advertise to everyone you meet) as you?

I just met my geeky twin about a month and a half ago. Our sons play soccer together. Her husband is one of the coaches. I knew some of the other moms on the team from previous seasons together and she and her husband are best friends with the other coach and his wife. We never spoke much beyond polite conversation and soccer parent logistics (practice time, game schedule, could I bring snacks on x date, blah blah blah).

However, one day Buzz wore his Sharks' jersey to practice. Her husband, Coach L (CL) excitedly asked him "Hey Buzz do you like the Sharks?" And Buzz, who by the way is an expert in all that is Sharks (more so than me) was all "yeah!" The two of them started bantering about the team and talking about different players, recent plays and games. After that CL and CLW (CL's Wife) told me "Buzz sure knows a lot about the Sharks!" I kind of laughed it off (ha ha) and sheepishly told them how we watch the games on t.v. and went to a few games during the season and that, "ha ha, he is a little bit obsessed with the Sharks..." (yes, putting it all on him and deflecting any focus away from myself)

After that, CLW and I would talk occasionally during practices about the Sharks. She told me about going to games last season and I told her about games we went to. I told her about my husband and how he bartends at the club (bar & club area inside HP Pavillion where the team plays). We shared stories about trying to get playoff tickets and other Sharks' related things. One day we talked during almost the whole practice. It was during that conversation that we started getting to our true geeky cores. It began when she admitted to demanding "no interruptions" from her family when the game is on and that she wants her daughter to marry a Shark player. Then, I shared with her how we yell and scream (and scare the neighbors) when we watch the games on tv. This went on and on. Her confessing something and me matching her confession with one of my own. I think it was when I told her how I started keeping a spreadsheet to monitor how many points the team needed in order to make the playoffs that she said to me "I am so glad I am not the only Sharks Geek around here!"

So, while it took a while to draw each other out, now that we are half way through round 2 of the playoffs we wear our "Sharks Geek" label as a badge of honor. Respect the geekiness! Of course it's true that both of my kids are "Sharks Geeks," especially Buzz. The boy is 7 and reads the sports section the day after every game! Woody, goes online almost everyday to nhl.com or to the Sharks website. They both have Sharks paraphernalia all over their rooms (yes, I helped decorate).

Anyway, I'm just glad there is another busy mom out there who is a geek like me! Who is your geeky twin?

Just some photos...

I snapped while out on a walk...









one evening...


with my son and my dog...

Are you kidding me? Another post about hockey?

Yep... we got to go to another Stanley Cup playoff game last night!
Ticketmaster, it seems, releases tickets in waves and if you are lucky enough to log on at the right time you can buy tickets... and for face value! So, the kids and I got to go to our second playoff game... it was even better than the first round! We went early, at the same time as hubby so that we could secure a spot in the "super secret" parking location that he and a few co-workers got hooked up with early in the season. We had a blast. Before the game the kids got their faces painted (I may have gotten a small piece of artwork painted on my face as well...) and then went in to hubby's area where he bought us nachos and sodas. And not the cheap concession's nachos, but the deluxe "club" (read snooty "club level ticket holder only" ) nachos, loaded with chicken, cheese, sour cream, olives, salsa.... yum! The kids went down to the ice level to watch warm-ups and were rewarded for their incessant banging on the glass when none other than Jonathon Cheecho came over and smacked (would have scared the shit out of me, but they loved it) the boards with his stick right where they were standing.




The game was fabulous and so exciting with the huge (and extremely loud) crowd. We screamed, we yelled, we rejoiced in victory! I was still re-living the glorious moments this morning but was soon smacked strait back into the reality, that is my life, by my youngest when he asked me "Remember all that laundry you did Saturday? Well, our basket is full again."

Yes, I know. I'll start it all over again tomorrow. Sigh.

Most Quotable Friday

If you spend your whole life
waiting for the storm, you’ll
never enjoy the sunshine.
- Morris West

If you have the will to win,
you have achieved half your
success; if you don’t, you
have achieved half your failure.
- David V.A. Ambrose

Everything comes to him
who hustles while he waits.

- Thomas A. Edison

Forget mistakes. Forget
failures. Forget everything
except what you’re going to
do now and do it. Today is
your lucky day.
- Will Durant

The really happy man is one
who can enjoy the scenery
on a detour.

- Anonymous

Elbow grease is the best polish.

- English Proverb

Tomorrow hopes that we
have learned something
from yesterday.

- John Wayne

It is better to be a lion for a
day than a sheep all your life.

- Elizabeth Kenny

Adversity is another way to
measure the greatness of
individuals. I never had a
crisis that didn't make me
stronger.

- Lou Holtz

For peace of mind, resign as
general manager of the
universe.

- Anonymous

I'd rather be a failure at
something I enjoy than a
success at something I
hate.

- George Burns

Don't go around saying the
world owes you a living.
The world owes you
nothing. It was here first.
- Mark Twain

Be on the alert to recognize
your prime at whatever time
of your life it may occur.
- Muriel Spark

There came a time when
the risk to remain tight in
the bud was more painful
than the risk it took to blossom.
- Anais Nin

When one teaches, two
learn.
- Robert Half

Someone's opinion of you
does not have to become
your reality.
- Les Brown

Never miss a chance to
keep your mouth shut.
- Robert Newton Peck

Keep a green tree alive in
your heart and a songbird
may come to sing there.
- Chinese Proverb

Have patience with all
things, but first of all with
yourself.
- St. Francis de Sales

Always do right. This will
gratify some people, and
astonish the rest.
- Mark Twain

Right is right, even if
everyone is against it; and
wrong is wrong, even if
everyone is for it.
- William Penn

Who needs a shrink?

Yesterday I had both hands full with something I was throwing away (we keep the kitchen garbage outside so the dog doesn't go through it when we are out) and asked Woody to open the sliding glass door for me. He opened it, but not enough for me go out all the way. So I got half-way through and kind of nudged the door open the rest of the way with my booty. The following conversation took place:

Me - (sarcastically as I'm nudging the door) "It's okay, I'll get it the rest of the way!"

Woody - "It's a good thing you have a strong booty!"

Me - (knowing exactly what he said) "What?"

Woody - "Uh... nothing?"

Buzz - "He said you have a big booty!"

Them together: "No I didn't." "Yes you did," "no, I didn't," "yes, you did....."

Me: "Stop talking about my booty!"

Buzz: "Why?"

Me: "Because, I'm your mom and you shouldn't be talking about my booty"

Buzz: (sensing he was in trouble?) "But Mommy, I love your big booty."

Me: "Okay, besides that being inappropriate on about 20 different levels, that comment is just wrong! Now go finish your homework."

Buzz: "But Mommy, don't you like your booty?"

Me: "Who are you, Dr. Phil?"

Buzz: "Who?"

Me: "Never mind. Finish your homework."

Honey I Lost the Kid... parts I & II

Okay, so yesterday as I was reading through some archived posts at Sweatpantsmom I came across this post (the first one titled "Mommie Fully Loaded") that talked about how she "lost" her daughter at the movie theater and more than adequately described that panicked-sickening-feeling-in-the-pit-of-your-stomach you get when something like that happens. Hopefully most parents will never have to experience such a scary thing like not knowing where your child is... but it happened to me, twice. Those "Mom of the Year" awards? Not displayed at my house!

The first time was back in 1999. Drama, Buzz, Woody and I had walked to Walgreens which was a few blocks from the apartment building we lived. Buzz was still a baby, so I walked and pushed him in the stroller while Drama and Woody both roller bladed. Woody was almost 4 (he started roller blading - no joke- when he was 19 months old) at the time. When we got in the store I had Drama and Woody take off their skates so they could go inside and not cause a panic amongst the Walgreen's staff. Once inside, Woody (as he was known to do) kept wanting to wander off by himself (probably to find toys or candy). I kept pulling him back or telling Drama to grab him and bring him back to where the baby and I were shopping. After about the 15th time (I think I must have been looking for birthday cards or something) Drama came back and said she couldn't find him. I told her to stay with the baby while I walked up and down the aisles looking for Woody. When I walked up and back twice and couldn't see him, panic set in. OMG, where was my baby? A million things flashed through my head. Did someone come in and grab him, did he go out in the parking lot and get run over, how the hell was I going to tell my husband that I (choke) lost our son... ?I was in full-freak-out-mode. I went up to the front and asked an employee if they had seen him. She said she hadn't, so I screamed to Drama that I was going outside to look for him. I get outside, look wildly around and over in the distance (about 75 yards) sitting on a bench by the movie theater... was Woody holding his roller blades. I didn't know whether to scream or cry. It seemed that he couldn't find me in the store and thought maybe I left so he went outside to look for me and then just decided to sit on the bench and wait for me because he didn't know how to put on his skates by himself. Just re-telling this now gives me chills... Aaaaaaarrhhhgghh!

It was about a year and-a-half, maybe two years later I would live the sequel "Honey I lost the kid" part II.

The sequel took place at the pediatrician's office. We had taken Woody to be seen by the "after hours" doctor to get a prescription for antibiotics. The office is on the first floor a of a three story medical office building. Also on the first floor, just outside the pediatrician's office (but still inside the building) was a small pharmacy where patients could easily get prescriptions filled. When we first entered the building I noticed that one of the elevators kept opening and closing at will even though no one was riding it or waiting for it. After seeing the doctor I took both kids out to the pharmacy area to get Woody's medicine. He was very sick and just content to sit in one of the chairs while I spoke to the pharmicist. Buzz, who I don't think was even 2 yet , had other ideas. There was no one around, so it was relatively easy to keep my eye on him as he ran around. It was at this point where (you know the old cliche, I only turned my head for a minute?) I turned my head for a minute to write a check (remember writing checks?) for the medicine and I didn't hear him. Then? I didn't see him. I asked Woody where he was and he had his head down almost asleep, so he didn't know either. Panic? Hell yes. It was such a small area, where could he have gone? I grabbed Woody and we ran outside the building screaming Buzz's name. Woody, picked up on my panic and desperation and started crying as we ran around the perimeter of the building. I came back inside, looked around some more, thinking maybe he went back in the pediatrician's waiting area where there was a toddler slide, but no, he wasn't there either. I went back out by the elevators and just then the pharmicist came out of the elevator, with Buzz. Deep sigh. He had gotten on the (previously mentioned) faulty elevator and without pushing any buttons it had taken him up to the second floor, where, he got off. But did he panic? NO! The pharmicist said that he was just sitting there on his knees, waiting for me. After pledging my undying love and gratitude to the pharmicist I took both kids to the car, strapped them in and did what anyone in that situtation would do... had a complete meltdown. We were all crying... right there in the parking lot. I felt so raw.

Epilogue: I asked both kids last night if they remember either of these situations and guess what? Neither one remembers! So, I guess I haven't traumatized them for life... but there is still time....

Today's score: Child 1, Mom 0

So, the other day I am blissfully minding my own business in my room when I hear the door to the garage slam open and Buzz's high pitched, overly charged voice screeching something like "this always happens to meeeeeeee-eee-eee." Followed by a continuous siren like wail of a frustrated (but tearless) crying that went something like "nwaaaaaaa nwwwaaaa nyaaaaaa nywaaaaa..." (did I mention loud and attention getting?) as he marched through the living room toward the kitchen. My trained instincts and acute hearing instantly told me this was one of those "I'm-screaming-loudly-because-my-bigger-older-brother-who-always-wins-and-dominates-every-activity-we-ever-do-together-has-beaten-me-again-and-I'm-frustrated-and-want-Mommy-to-come-in-and-rescue-me-and-get-my-mean-brother-in -trouble-for-being-mean-to-me-AGAIN" cries that I have come to recognize at the drop of a hat.

Now, first of all? I was the oldest child in my family, so let's just say that I hated this growing up and my mom would always fall for it and I would always get in trouble just because I was older. Ugh! So, for my youngest, this loud crying thing, is a crap shoot. Either I feel sorry for him because his brother is using his "I'm three years older and much superior" attitude solely for the pure enjoyment of watching his little brother go into frustrated hysterics (okay, I was maybe guilty of this behavior once or twice growing up, but never, ever repeat this to my brother!), or I go the other way and get the younger one for being whiny and manipulative and for doing what my little brother did to me growing up.

So, being the dutiful mom I go to find the source of the "loud wail" only to run into Buzz on his way back from the kitchen carrying a (as in a single) paper towel as he is heading back into the garage. Also coming to investigate the noise was Woody, who, as it turns out was in a completely different room when the "wailing" commenced. So much for my mother's intuition (note to self: get that intuition thing checked on will ya?). Curious now, I follow him into the garage to find out what was going on. He continues to wail and berate himself, "I always do this... this always happens...mmmmnnyyaaaa mmmnyaaaa..." as he heads to the side of the garage where the t.v is and goes over to the little table and bends down and takes his paper towel and attempts to clean up the can of Pepsi that he spilled. The full can of Pepsi. Well, the once full can. Anyway, feeling bad for him I pick up the can, which he left still spilling when he went to get the paper towel and I talked him down from his hysterics in my most re-assuring voice telling him that it is okay and that I will help him clean it up but we would probably need a real towel, blah blah blah, until the mess was cleaned up and all was calm.

But, later? I was thinking how clever he was by innitiating the hysterics himself instead of waiting for the hysterics to come from me. If he would have come and told me he spilled, I most likely woud have gone postal on him because a) he is not supposed to drink in the garage b) he did not ask if he could have a soda and c) the ants love that shit and I don't want another ant invasion on my hands! But instead? He got hugs and kisses from mommy, she cleaned it up herself and he got another soda to replace the one he spilled!

What am I teaching this kid?

A Jam Packed Weekend

That started with laundry... Lots of it. It never ended. I was still folding socks this morning. But, it got done. I washed and dryed furiously all day Saturday in between grocery shopping and picking up our race packets for Pat's Run (more about this later) and before Woody's 4:30 soccer game, which I yanked him from the post-game talk so I could get home to get ready for my big "GIRLS Night Out."

Well... it wasn't a wild, drunken affair or anything. But, it was a night out for me, which I have to admit, I don't get to do very often. So, when last week Super Engineer Gal (my only female co-worker) invited me to see a play on Saturday, I jumped at the chance. A night out without kids? Heck yes I'll be there!! What a treat! The play was called "The Sisters Rosensweig," which was written by the late Wendy Wasserstein (play bill pictured on the right).

I had a good time and really enjoyed the performance. It was about three sisters and took place in the oldest sister's London flat during a weekend in 1991. The dialogue was humorous and witty and the whole thing just seemed to fly by. Before I knew it I was in my car on my way home. Sigh. Girls night was over.

We got up early the next morning to participate in the First annual (San Jose) Pat's Run that benefits the Pat Tillman Foundation. It started last year in Tempe, Arizona and this year they held it in Tempe(4-15-06) and San Jose (4-30-06), which is where Pat grew up and went to high school. It was a 4.2 mile run/walk around his old neighborhood and ended on the Leland High School Football Field (now appropriately named "Pat Tillman Stadium"). They also had a kids .42 mile run. Everything was "42" because that was the number he wore in high school and in college. He wore number 40 when he played for the Arizona Cardinals. (sidenote: there was a soldier who ran the race in full fatigues, boots and a 42 pound pack, now that? Was impressive)

Woody and I both did the run and Buzz did the kids' run. Hubby came too, he didn't run or walk but hung out with Buzz and got him checked in while Woody and I did our run. Woody finished the race about 2 minutes before I did and I was really proud of him (both of us). It was his first "race" and the longest distance he has ever run at one time before. I was exhausted from being up late the night before, so I think I could have had a better run and not have had to stop just before the 2 mile mark. But I did, which was fine. I walked for about 5 minutes and then was able to run the rest of the way after that. Woody said he had to stop at one point also because he twisted his ankle a bit where the trail/path wasn't even. No matter, we both finished. Here are some pics:

Here is a picture of us by the finish line... And then a close up of the finish line. Oh, and Buzz did great in his race! I started shadowing him (ran behind the kids with some of the parents) but half way through he was going to fast for me, so I just cut over to the finish line to wait for him there! Oh, and SJ Sharky was there too. He seems to always have time to take a bite out of one of my kids wherever we go. And we seem to be running in to him a lot this year!

After the race I treated everyone to Jamba Juice and then we went home. Everyone (except Buzz) fell asleep at scattered locations throughout the house. I fell asleep in the playroom where Buzz indulgently played uninterrupted sessions on his Game Cube. He kept waking me up to watch his replays. I should have gone somewhere else, but I knew everyone was going to end up taking a nap so I went in there with him so he wouldn't be by himself. Apparently the dog was trying to get my attention too, when I woke up he had all his doggy toys (brought from the other room) on the floor next to the couch where I was sleeping. We took him for a long walk later in the afternoon. I spent the rest of the evening folding and putting away laundry. Except for the socks. I always put those off until last (and not because they are my favorite).

What an unbelievably beautiful day! I'm almost forgetting about those weeks and weeks of continual rain. Almost...