Please Pass the Brownies

This mom's best friend

2010-09-19T12:36:00.001-04:00

I lost a trusted friend this week. My not quite five year old eternal "puppy" Holly had an accidental fall. Being a dachshund she was predisposed to back problems. She herniated two discs and the neurological damage at best, offered a very bleak prognosis. Before I had Holly I wasn't a dog person at all. My puppy wormed her way into my heart.

Her favorite thing in life was simple. She loved to snuggle on a lap. Anyone who had a lap, she helped herself to. What I loved so much about her was, all bets were off once I sat down. It was the running joke in our house when I sat down we all knew she was headed my way. She wanted me first. She loved me as I loved her, unconditionally. And she loved me best and I knew it.

The kids are so sad. Her friend Jack is lost without her.

My heart is broken. I hope not having her around gets easier with time. Its been four days and I miss her terribly.

Remembering

2010-09-11T15:43:00.002-04:00

Nine years ago today the world was so much different. The big picture as well as my little snapshot.

It was such a beautiful day. I had a three month old infant. I had just dropped off both girls at school, the four year old little girl in pre-school and the first grader. They both went to school now for the whole day This is a very exciting milestone in a stay-at-home mom's life. This glorious day belonged to me. I was just getting used to this new routine. New baby, new schedule. (There's that schedule thing again..I'm telling you, schedule should have been my middle name.) I walked in the door of my growing house. We were undergoing renovations and if I close my eyes I can still see the "mess" I was in. (I'd give my right ~~t..~~ uhh, leg for that mess versus the mess I have now--little kids, little mess...etc.) The phone rang and it was my older sister. "Heya...how you doing?" I was standing in my very cute little den, Sis said "Something awful has happened. Very awful, turn the TV on. A plane just flew into the World Trade Center." And so beauty of the day disappeared.

Fast forward 9 years.

Today's weather is just like it was on that awful day. A glorious and beautiful fall day. Our expanded house could use a lot moooooore stretching. The itty bitty TV that I turned on to watch the world change, is in the basement under a few inches of dust with the rest of the yard sale stuff. My sister still calls me when big things happen in the world, because she calls everybody. Me first though. That little den is now a very dirty room which belongs to an eighth grader and a tenth grader (formerly the pre-school kid and first grader.) The infant is nine, he is full of all the piss and vinegar that a little boy is supposed to have. (That's how I justify his off the wall antics...What??? He's a boy!) We have a bigger TV and a little more stuff then we did back then.

And life goes on. It just does whether we want it to or not. It's happy memories and those close to us that enables us to move forward with our chins up. On this day of reflection, I'm remembering how much I cherished my family and pulled them a little bit closer to me in the weeks and months following 9/11. I am blessed by God's grace to still have my nucleus intact. For that I am grateful on this beautiful and glorious day.

Chillaxin Jack

2010-09-10T15:59:00.000-04:00

Stupid dog. Can't tell you how many times I find this numbskull sitting like this...As stupid as he is, he makes me laugh. Going on two years living with us. He's still as dumb as a stick.

He's got the kind of face that tends to grow on you.

He still goes to the bathroom in the house. #1 and #2. And I still let him live here. I don't even know why. I'm so not a dog person.

Schedules

2010-09-09T16:23:00.000-04:00

Tuesday September 7, 2010

Summer's gone. Back into the school routine. Three kids, three schools. Three start times, three release times. Three sets of activities. One me. One brain.

When I didn't work ~~in the good old days~~ I used to keep a calender for the kids activities and appointments. I wrote everything down to be prepared and know what I was dealing with before it happened. I was over organized. It was all on the calender. I needed to see it. There could be no surprises. And there weren't any. These days I write nothing down and and am living life dangerously, on the edge. I'm "winging it." I could never do this before, there could be no deviations from what was scheduled.

Now that I'm working I hardly ever use a calender. I write stuff on scraps of paper, on the corner of my check book, a gum wrapper. Nothing ever makes it to a calender. The closest thing to an appointment calender is on my desk at work. And its under my keyboard. Sometimes I look at it. Mostly no.

(Okay, this where I stopped writing, I suppose I must have ventured off to get a brownie, and never came back. As usual I have no idea where I was going with this.....And that's where Part II comes in. I clearly know where I'm going with it. Read on.)

Wednesday September 8, 2010

Getting used to the new school year comes with its challenges, but I'm managing. My new routine is getting up early to get as much cleaning and laundry done before I leave the house so when I come home at four pm with the kids, I just need to focus on dinner. So I'm feeling pretty good about how things are going so far. Day three of school and we are working things out.

The last kiddie drop off before I go to work, is the little boy. As he and I are getting into the car on this beautiful Wednesday morning, I say to him "Don't let me forget to pick up Meg from her Grandpa tomorrow, her mom asked me if I could bring her to school. That's your job, dude...remember don't let me forget Meg." As I arrived at work, Meg's mom texts me "Everyone get to school alright today?" "SHIT! SHIT SHIT!" "SHIT SHIT" Today was Wednesday. It was Wednesday that she wanted me to pick up Meg. Damn Labor Day screwed up my mental schedule. After making a few calls to make sure Meg's grandpa took her to school, I texted Meg's mom and said "All set. Kids delivered to school" She texts me back "I can't thank you enough" to which I reply "Oh no you really don't have to thank me."

Meg's mom and I are tight, so she was understanding and thankfully she understood. I think it's time for me to start keeping a calender again. Now where is my pen?

Fast Foward

2010-09-06T02:24:00.000-04:00

Ok, so a year has past and not a single blog. I read something about me blogging more often. Did I write that? Hmm, I must have. Anyways, my friend Kimmers http://me-anotherdayinthelifeofme.blogspot.com/2010/09/and-so-it-begins.html started her ~~long over due~~ blog tonight, so she prompted me to get my ass back here. . If she can do it so can I. So let's see Kimmers, who will persevere? You or me?

What changed, and when?

2009-11-04T08:28:00.006-05:00

This morning as I was dropping my 14 year old off at school, I marveled at how most of those high school teens had a Dunkin Donuts coffee in their hand. I was thinking to myself "Who has the extra money to buy DD coffee anymore?" Lucky kids. I haven't had the spare money to buy a coffee in years! It made me remember something from about 10 years ago. Every morning around this same time, I used to go to DD to get my coffee. For my baby (the 14 year old) this was the norm, every restaurant was measured in Dunkin. We would go to "Gunkin Icecream, Gunkin King etc..." She knew I ordered medium*hot*coffee cream*two*sugars*please*and*thank*you.

Thinking about that made me a lil' bit melancholy today. I used to take the same route all the time (good thing nobody was stalking me, I'm a predictable person)and saw the same things. At the end of my block there was a middle aged man with motorcycle. He had the most beautiful lawn. There was the old Italian grandpa who had most beautifully colored dahlias. The two gentlemen used to chat every morning over a cup of coffee while sitting on the front stairs.

I remember thinking out loud one particular sunny day as I drove by. "All is right with the world." I remember very well I felt this deep down, I really felt it. I had a house, I was a stay at home mom with two beautiful baby girls, a mortgage, two new cars, we had everything we needed. I was blessed and felt it to my core.

On today's ride home I passed the corner where my two gentleman friends used to chat. I wondered to myself, "When did it all change?" I realized I haven't seen my friends at the end of the block, my metephoric gauge. The middle aged man has moved, and I haven't seen the old grandpa lately. The world no longer seems "right." Have I become more realistic and less idealistic? I know that the world around me has changed a great deal, but what has changed within me to not feel the "rightness?"

This week Ellen had a contestant from The Biggest Looser. This woman lost her husband, toddler & infant in the blink of an eye in a horrible car accident. This beautiful and radiant woman sat there smiling and explained to Ellen why she was happy. After the accident she made a decision to chose and embrace life. She allowed herself to live and be happy. Her peace comes from the feeling that she will see her loved ones in heaven. I envied her serenity and grace.

It just seems harder to obtain that feeling that "the world is right." Was it that I lived with blinders on back then? Was it really a simpler time 10 years ago? I hate to think that I am not grateful or that I take for granted all that I have. I have the same stuff as I did back then (ok, a little more...ok...alot more!) My family has grown in the past 10 years, the two baby girls are now teens and have an 8 year old brother. My husband, myself and our three children have been blessed with good health. I still have the same mortgage, two cars & a few more "things" than we had ten years ago.

For today, I wish I had the answers or a clever way to explain why the world no longer seems right to me.

Who knew?

2009-09-01T21:43:00.015-04:00

Who knew that all the nurturing and kind things that I used to do for my kids would come back and bite me in the ass? When they were younger I used to do nice things for them, like making sure they had a napkin with their meals. I would see to it that those bothersome tags in their clothes were cut out. I got them the pj's they were most comfortable in..."Feeties for you? Ok, sure" "Oh? You like nightgowns? You got it." I made sure their booster seats in the car were elevated enough so they could see out the window instead of looking at the inside of the car door. Oh the list goes on. I did these things with love, I did. I wanted my kid to realize just how much I really loved them. By me performing these acts of love they would really feel it.

I never realized that by doing this they would come to expect me to perform these "acts of love" on demand. In a 24 hour span my 14 year old, the child I considered to be the most thoughtful and understanding of my brood rattled off a list of MUST HAVES for tomorrow. She needed her physical form to play field hockey in tomorrows game notarized (I don't know a notary.)Needed a new face mask to replace the one she lost LAST week (I paid $32.00 for that one and another $32.00 for today's replacement.) Needed help printing the report(s) she had all summer to do. "Geez, I didn't realize we had no printing paper." As usual Mom pulls thru for the child.

Come supper time she says to me "Why are you ordering pizza tonight? Yesterday you told me you were cooking sausage and potatoes on the grill." As I snorted "What more do you want of me?" I saw her take a breath so she could begin a sentence...I cut that child of mine off at the knees. "Say a word and I will rip out your tonsils." She said "I wasn't going to ask you for anything else. I just wanted to know if you were working tomorrow?" There is my sweet girl. Smart too. "No" I said "I'm not working tomorrow because it's you guys first day of school and I want to be there to see you all off." (Ya know one of those "acts of love" I was talking about) She couldn't quit while she was ahead, she had to have the last word by saying "Good, because I need my shin pads washed for my game after school."

I quit for the day. Done. Without washing the shin pads. I don't think I will wash them tomorrow either. I think I might just let her smell.

Let's try this again

2009-08-30T08:41:00.002-04:00

So it's two months later and I finally get back here. Email, Facebook, Blogging....so much technology me to keep up with. Rita, how do you do it all??? The emails in one of my mail boxes is way over 500! Baby steps.

The kids are going back to school in five days, and I swear this is going to be the time I get myself together. I'm going to clean my house (I think), clean up my flower beds for the fall (maybe), and go thru that pile of important papers that are shoved in a box (I have to do that.) Back to school is like New Years Day to me, the kids go back to school and I resolve to do all the things that I have neglected.

I just wish I had a teeeny weeney little portion of "type A" personality in me. I don't. I have more ADD to my personality than I care to admit. Why can't I stay organized or clean for just one week? Because if I could, maybe it would spill over to the next week and I would feel so good about it that a month would pass by and I would say "I was organized for one whole month, I can do this." Nope. Not for a month, not for a week, not for a day. Not on a boat not with a goat not on a train not in the rain.

To all of you out there who are sending their kids back to school (or already have) "Happy School Year!"

MIA Momma

2009-06-23T20:56:00.009-04:00

March 2nd to June 23rd. I've been absent from the blogging world for three months and 21 days. Fifteen weeks. That's five menstrual periods to this 42 year old MIA Momma. OK...So I have been gone for a little while. A lot has happened since then. Gas has gone up, again. My 7 year old boy turned 8 and by God's grace made his first communion. My oldest girl, Princess Lounge-Around won "Most Improved Musician" in her 8th grade band (hope they didn't judge her on her singing.) Ed McMahon died. Jack the stupid dog stopped crapping in my house (for the most part.) My middle child graduated from elementary school. Jon & Kate announced their divorce. And I gained 7 lbs.

When my kids returned to school in September I was supposed to have more time to myself. Sounded so nice. Didn't happen that way. I started a new job the day they started school. Fast forward 180 school days later...today was the last day of school. Funny wasn't my last day of work. So on this final day of school I am sitting here trying to figure out what my game plan is going to be for the summer. This is the first time that I have to do the summer juggle. I have always credited working moms and wondered how they figured it all out. I still wonder how they figure it out, cause I need some help here. Anyone? I have an almost 14 year old, a 12 1/2 year old and an 8 year old. The two oldest are girls and are pretty self sufficient. They can easily manage to constructively fill the hours that I'm not home. (What is so tough about laying on the couch, while watching tv in an air conditioned room while texting your friends?) The 8 year old boy is another story, he is very mischievous and imp of a boy...with beautiful green eyes. And I don't trust him as far as I can throw him.

Tomorrow is his first day of school vacation and the boy will start vacation bible school. That will take care of 8 vacation days. Now according to Phineas and Ferb there are "104 days to summer vacation (and school comes along just to end it......") that leaves me with 96 days to figure out what to do with him. Not bad for someone who is new at this, huh? The only thing that keeps coming to mind is a roll of duct tape, I don't know why. I guess it will come to me what I am supposed to do.

I am going to try to be a regular blog reader this summer as I enjoy reading them so much. So in the spirit of change I will get back to reading my favorite blogs, instead of grabbing a paper back for my summer reading. So Miz Q? Rita? Stacey? Deb?...I will be lurking once again, I've missed following your blogs so much. And I just might even try to post a few of my own thoughts. (I still don't know how to link, otherwise I would have linked to your blogs, dear friends...sorry...still not there yet!!!)

Live like nobody is looking

2009-03-01T11:54:00.007-05:00

I was playing "beat the clock" yesterday morning at JoAnn's Fabric. I'd dropped the kids off at Religious Education (we called it CCD in my day.) I lost track of time while I was in the store, it was snowing, the roads were rotten and I only had six minuets to get to church which was twelve minuets away. I was standing in line counting my fat quarters. Out loud. The lady in front of me turned around and said "six, seven, eight.... Sorry I just had to." I can appreciate humor. I laughed and said "Oh, I'm sorry you don't need to listen to the clutter in my head." She then said something to me that was very profound the second she said it "Eh, don't worry about it, you need to live like nobody is looking." I just stared at her and absorbed what she was saying, she then went on to say "Would I be standing here in my pajamas if I didn't?" I told her I didn't even notice...she said "That's because you were paying attention to what was important to you." We then chatted while we waited in line. I told her how I was late picking up my kids and she said "Didn't you ever wait out in the snow?" I said yes I did. I then shared it was not my worry about them waiting in the snow. My worry was people thinking 'rotten mother, was late picking her kids up.' She laughed and said "I told you don't worry about those people who you think are looking at you."

I got in the car and called my older sister who I knew would be picking up her kids at church too. I asked her to tell my kids to sit tight at church, that I would be there as soon as I could. She told me she would take them home for me. She then went on to tell me how much she loved me. Now to the untrained ear it would sound kinda crude and morbid, but knowing my sister as I do, she was outright professing her love for me by saying to me "I'll take them home, if you get killed on the road trying to get there I will be stuck raising three more kids." Thank you sissa .

Here are the fat quarters I got at the fabric store. My neice asked me if I would make her a quilt for her 13th birthday. Ask and you shall recieve. Only don't expect it on time. I'm about three quilts behind!

Off to live life like nobody's looking! You do the same.

The House of Mouse

2009-03-01T11:49:00.004-05:00

I knew I had a picture of the boy looking in "the rathole" from a couple years ago. Here it is:

If You Give a Mouse a Cookie...

2009-02-26T21:00:00.011-05:00

My favorite all time book to read the kids when they were little was "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie." We read it so many times we can all recite it. Pffft...It's no longer my favorite, grab a brownie and I'll tell you why. A few years ago we had a few mice in the house. I think we killed three or four of them. That summer I went on a steel wool kick. I shoved steel wool in places where steel wool just don't belong, because supposidly that is the only thing that can stop a mouse. It was never determined where or how the mice got in and since then I never saw any signs of a mice.

This past fall I was ~~straining to look in my neighbor's house~~ looking out the front door. I happened to look down and see summin small scurry thru the leaves and UNDER my vinyl siding. I grabbed the broken sprinkler that the "traveling hands" (oh that boy of mine!) had dropped on the ground. I whacked the shit out of the side of the house, and finished off what plastic was left on the sprinkler. That muther of a mouse didn't come out.

Fast foward to February 25th. In a rare moment of relaxation I sat down on the couch to watch tv after the dinner dishes were done. Trying to obtain the feelings of serenity after a long day. YIKES!!! A little ~~fucker~~ mouse went running along the wall that the tv is on, and cornered himself behind some boxes. So I tell the man I married..he says "No sa." "YES...I DID see a mouse, get off your ass and move those boxes, he's behind them!!!" As I'm standing on the coffee table. I grabbed the puke bucket that just happened to be laying around (kids are still sick in this house.) I give the man the puke bucket to drop over the ~~little fucker~~ mouse. The man botches the whole operation, the ~~fucker~~ mouse ran back under the sink, and tries to tell me I was in the way! UH NO...I was back up on the coffee table! I sent the man out to the store to get some traps.

Feb 26th was a NIGHTMARE!!! Again after dinner all I wanted to do was relax on my couch. Wrong. Same thing as last night,a ~~fucker~~ mouse runs out of the "rat hole" as my boy calls it. I jumped up and chased the ~~little fucker~~ mouse back to where he came from and barked to nobody in particular "That's it, I'm going to bed!" So I set myself up nice nice in my bed with a cup of tea and my laptop, to start a post about a ~~fucker~~ mouse in my house. Then...then...that ~~little fucker~~ mouse ran right by me into my closet. In my closet!(How I managed to get in bed while my closet door was opened I have no idea. That's another story for another day.) WTF....is there no room in this house that is off limits? (In my perfect world I like to think that mice just stay in the kitchen, and maybe the bathroom--but not my friggen bedroom!) That's it, I'm staying in this bed all night. I needed to tell someone of my dire circumstances, so I emailed http://lookitsmegryansmom.blogspot.com/ and http://mizq2u.blogspot.com/ to tell them I was being held hostage in my bedroom, by a ~~little fucker~~ mouse, at which point the Princess comes in my room and says "I think I'm gonna throw up." Crap now I gotta get off my bed. Before I joined her in the bathroom to rub her back, I barked orders at the man to start rearranging the present sleeping arrangements, as I was not going to sleep in a room that had a mouse in the closet!! I made him carry the 68 lb. sleeping boy out of his bed, and move him to our bed. Big Daddy was going to sleep in the mouse room. I was sleeping with Princess in her room.

With that chore done I stood outside the bathroom door waiting for Princess to let me in the bathroom and that ~~fucker~~ mouse (or a butt brother of his)had the balls to go running right past me into my bedroom! After that, me and the puking Princess stayed in the bathroom for about two hours. Neither one of us wanted to go "out there." When we finally went to bed and were just falling asleep around 1:30 we heard "snap." Ok, so it was 1:27 am, we looked at the clock to notate the time of death. We both felt like it was ok to fall asleep.

We have since caught four more ~~fuckers~~ mice. I'm so grossed out and wish I could go somewhere until there are no more ~~fuckers~~ mice in my house!!! God, I hate mice (bugs to.)

So now my second favorite children's book gets bumped to first place. "Goodnight Moon" is officially now my favorite book. Wait, wait, wait!!! Hit pause. http://www.staciesmadness.com/2009/02/life-with-keyboard-functions.html Isn't there a mouse in that book too?

Footnote: for those of you who are more humane and don't like that I have killed four of God's creatures, ~~go away~~ I respect your views

And the Password is.....

2009-02-24T15:45:00.010-05:00

When I left work to say home with my kids 14 years ago, I was a third party biller in a hospital. I returned to the same office this past September. (It was weird at first because so many people are still there from when I left. It feels right and the money is good.) My boss took a chance on me and hired me back part time. I thought my brain had gone to mush and was beyond return. Happily I have found out that "I still have it."

Of course since I've been gone HIPPA has gone into effect and we no longer use carbon paper to duplicate a claim. Back then the computer that I used was the hospital's billing system, and it was a green and black screen. Now that I'm back I now have an updated title and am called a "Patient Account Billng Analyst." The green screen is gone, replaced by a this new operating system called Windows(anyone ever hear of it?) I have gone from remembering ONE password to having to put about NINETEEN passwords on a spreadsheet, for which, I need a password!

As time goes by, I need to change my passwords periodically. I had a hard enough time coming up with the passwords I had, for goodness sake!!! I'm out of ideas, I only have three kids, and their birth dates will never change. I am NOT creative at making up passwords that I can remember! Hell I can never remember how old I am, for get a friggen password!! Some programs require a capital letter and a symbol. Some need all caps, some need more than six letters, some need numbers, and most of 'em won't let you amend it by easily just adding a number to the end. Blah, blah, blah... Is it just me or are we inundated with passwords? A few weeks ago I need my social security number for something, and for the life of me I could NOT remember it. I had to look it up. And daym, it's not on my spreadsheet! My card was in the lock box. Where is that friggen key? Can you feel my pain? All these friggin numbers floating around in my head are messing with me.

Can't someone just invent a speed dial for passwords, like they have for phones?

2009-02-13T21:53:00.002-05:00

Ok ok ok...so I learned that Wordless Wednesday is not applicable to someone who has not posted in two weeks.

With that said...I have been on a sick hiatus.
Early last week my oldest child, Princess Lounge Around woke me up at 11:30 pm to tell me she didn't feel good, could I sit on the couch with her. As we were sitting on the couch I go thru the whole list of what hurts. "Is it your head? You got a belly ache? You gotta poop? Do you feel like your gonna vomit?" Then I realized she had her head tipped back and was looking at the ceiling. "Ah ha 'a bloody nose?'" She tells me that she's trying to not throw up. And so the night began. When you think you're gonna throw up, you throw up. And she did. Six times. Poor dolly.

Wanna take a guess who got it next? That nasty virus had settled itself right here on Wilde Lane, because the Middle Child and Mommy got it. I thought I was going to D I E die. I have never ever, ever, ever, ever, ever thrown up that much (all three pregnancies put together I didn't throw up that much!) I laid in bed for two days groaning about wanting to be put out of my misery. I called my own mother on the phone and begged her to please tell me how to make it stop. She offered me some Coke syrup from her Fridge. Then she called back to say "Never mind, it expired." IN 1997. I swear to God. 1997. She said she remembered buying five bottles of it. When I talked to both my sisters a couple days later, they both too had a batch of the expired bottles from 1997. Since I know I threw mine away, that means my brother has a bottle of generic 1997 vintage Coke syrup in his fridge.

During one of my vomiting bouts in between heaves, the Man I Married knocked on the bathroom door and said "Does Jack have anymore dog food?" I said "Go Away" in my head I said "Piss off Fucker" (I do that alot, say something nice out loud and equally as foul in my head.) WHO DOES THAT? Who asks their vomiting wife where the dog food is???? Who? This from a man who I cannot talk to or look at when he is having an asthma attack. He needs to concentrate on his breathing. I get it. So DON'T ask me where the friggen dog food is!

My 13 year old took good care of me. She kept the ginger ale coming. She laid next to me in bed and listened to me moan and groan about how much it hurt. She never peeped one complaint how rotten she felt. Unlike me. Between the two of us we lost 16 lbs. I don't know about her, but the five I lost, found their way back. I pretty much slept (and bellyached) for two days. During the two days I was sick, I had a yearbook deadline due. I couldn't lift myself off the bed to get to the computer to submit what I had to. I did those pages in my sleep. Over and over again.

I took two days to decontaminate my house. I bleached every surface, I washed floors and threw open the windows. I'm sick of this cold and germy winter! I can't wait to complain about how hot it is!

Wordless Wedensday--Holly in Auntie Becky's coat sleeve

2009-02-11T06:48:00.004-05:00

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program.....

2009-01-28T21:23:00.007-05:00

...to accommodate the DOG!

I have spent most of this miserable snowy/rainy day telling a dog that I have only a 31 day investment in to "get busy." I shoveled snow for this dog to do his business, I shoveled slush for him do his business. I shoveled slush mixed with shit so he would do his thang. And finally I shoveled puddles of water for this little boy to do his duty. I spent more friggen time with this dog out in the rain than I particularly care to. For what? A dog that I don't really like that much. He looks at me with sad eyes when I pick him up, turn him around and drop him back in a puddle and say "get busy." For some reason he likes me. Despite the fact that I kept dropping him in Mother Nature's mud puddle.

A little while ago, with supper dishes all cleaned up I thought I would sit down in front of the tv & computer with a brownie or three to spend a little me time. Nope. After spending the better part of the last 30 minuets outside, I took Fido in the house and gave him a treat (ok ok so he didn't produce, but it's a snacky kind of night.) He looked at me all wet, followed me to the couch and sat right on my lap all wet and stanky. He shook himself off then floofed up the couch blanket, sighed, looked at me and stuck his nose under my arm. Why me? This was supposed to be The Middle Child's dog. SHE was supposed to be the one to care for it, she and The Man I Married. Both professed their undying commitment to this house shitting, crate shitting, flea & ear mite infested mutt.

So here I sit with my arm up in the air as I type, lest I disturb the dog, I wonder what was I going to blog about if I didn't have the dog to complain about? Stacie, could you please pass me some lemonade to wash down my brownies?

Footnote...I tried and tried to link you Stacie, but I just couldn't figure it out. Maybe some time when I don't have a dog shoved up my armpit I can figure it out. Unless of course someone can explain

The Sweet and Condensed Version of What the hell happened to me in the past month!

2009-01-27T21:20:00.007-05:00

Ok...So I have been missed. Thank you Stacie for dropping me a hello today!!! Rita...thank you for calling me. Suzie thanks for keeping me in the loop ...and Debbie on the Edge? Thanks for the hello last week...or was it the week before?!

So Christmas happened. It came and went. It was Christmas. Too much stuff, kids who take it all for granted, and the water from the tree stained my hardwood floor!

The day after Christmas we got ANOTHER dog. A mini dashaund. Now I have book ends. Holly our 3 year old mini doxie was living high on the hog till Jaaaaaaaaaack joined us. The Middle Child's birthday is the day after Christmas, so every year we try to "make it special." Pfft...this year we made it special allright. I had a weak moment when the Man I Married said "how about this one year old mini doxie that only cost $150.00, is house trained, crate trained, and loves kids?" So I said yes. I don't know why I said yes, but I did. WHAT WAS I THINKING? I had a brief moment of insanity I suppose, I barely like animals!

To summarize the past 31 days with Jack? We've been livin' a lieeeeeeeeeee. The girl who unloaded him on us lied, lied, lied to us. Her house smelled, that should have been the first clue when we went to pick him up. The five other, undernourished dogs and two ugly cats should have been the second clue. And the fact that she called us THREE times on Christmas day to be sure we would pick him up the next day should have been the third clue. She was desperate. We think it was probably for a drug fix. Seriously. This dog shits in the house, he shits in his crate, and growls at My Boy (who is 7) and my 3 year old nephew. He came with fleas, and ear mites. So this $150.00 dog has incurred more bills that his 3 year old sister ($90.00 for 6 months of Frontline, $85.00 for two dogs to be flea dipped, $24.00 for the new SMALLER crate that he still shits in, $205.00 in Vet bills cause there was no proof of vacinations with the flea bag, and $90.00 that I have to pay the friggen trainer to let the little fucker out while I'm at work!!! I didn't even pay child care for my babies!!!!!!!!!!!) Anyone keeping track of how much I'm up to here? Good think I went back to work, huh? I have to keep my eyes on him 24/7, lest he shits in my house. I keep telling the 12 year old "We don't live this way!!!!!" Argh!!!!!!!!

I have been working on the yearbook for the kids' elementry school, under duress. HOOK, LINE AND SINKER I got roped into it. ALONE. I have been wresteling with a computer program that the yearbook company claims is "user friendly." I am however NOT a friedly user. It stress me right the hell out. I have contributed far more hours than I have to give.

The job that I started in September (after a 14 year absense) was supposed to be 16 hours a week. I have been working 35 hour weeks. While the money is nice....I am not just ment to be a working mother. I like my job. I hate what I have to do to get there. Maybe in time I will get used to it? I don't think that I am doing anything different than any other working mom, I just am not handeling it as graciously as they are.

Oh and did I mention that I am dealing with identity theft? I've had two credit cards that have been frauduently charged on. I have both cards in my possesion, so I have no idea how they got my information. For some reason, someone wants to be me, imagine? Is it the new dog that shits in the house or the "userfriendly" yearbook program that makes it seem so attactive? I make it look fun don't I? I wish that person would just take the whole package, dirty house, piles of laundry, the dirty car, piles of snow to be shoveled, the freash kids and the lazy husband. I don't know if the same person has both cards, but one of them reeeally reealllly likes coffee. They spent about $800.00 total in Starbucks in California.

My hair needs to be dyed, my mustache waxed, and my legs need to be shaved (I never kept my New Year's Resolution to shave regularly.) What's not to want about my life?

I am going to suck it up and try to keep up with my blogging. Thank you friends for reminding me that there is a bigger world out there than this little one that I live in!!!!

P.S.--I actually am starting to like the house shitting dog. He had very sad eyes when he came to us, and is really coming to life as he gets used to us.
Jack the new dog is on the left, see those sad looking eyes? Holly the wider dog on the right is the well adjusted 3 year old chubby girl who has not a care in the world.

Easy make biscotti, or so she says...

2008-12-23T18:33:00.007-05:00

Upon reflecting on the blessings that I have in my life, I realized that I have been neglectful toward my friends. I have a great group of friends that must think I have fallen off the face of the earth. This working mother thing is just as hard as I always imagined it would be (and then some!) I've been working about 30 hours a week (pretty nice for the 16 hour job that I was hired for.) As much as I hated to go back we needed to heat our house and feed our growing kids this winter. I must say it's nice to be back in the working world. I was lucky enough to return to the office where I started my career 22 years ago. I returned to a job where many of the people were like family to me, as many of them attended my wedding 15 years ago. Of course the world has changed since I left and returned. When I left there was ONE green screen computer system that we used. Now I cannot even count the number of programs I use. Today was the first office Christmas party I have attended in a long long time. For years my Christmas party has consisted of the broken candy canes and left over goodies from the kids school parties.

I've been looking for recipes that are quick and easy for my Christmas baking. One of my dearest friends Terri, (funny enough I met her at the above stated job, 22 years ago)gave me this recipe for Biscotti, that she'd made with her mother in law.

Dee,
This is very easy and I think they are delicious!
Terri

Chocolate Walnut Biscotti
4 squares semi sweet baking chocolate (I used Bakers RED BOX)
1/2 stick of unsalted butter
3 large eggs
1 C sugar
2 C All purpose flour
2 tsp salt
1 C walnuts

* Melt Chocolate and butter in a small pan
* Beat eggs and sugar in a large bowl with a fork to mix. Stir in chocolate mixture until well blended.
* Mix in flour, baking powder and salt. Add nuts
* Knead until all ingredients are incorporated.
*Cut dough into 4 pieces - put each section of dough on a piece of lightly floured wax paper - wrap and chill until firm. (about 30 minutes)
* Lightly flour hands and roll each section of dough into a log.
* Place each log on the greased cookie sheet - the logs should lay across the short side of the cookie sheet - this way all of them will fit on one sheet and the logs will be a bit fatter - (when it comes to logs fatter is always better than thin!!) LOL LOL
* Bake 30 minutes at 350.
* Carefully remove logs with spatula to cutting board. Use a large heavy knife to cut each log diagonally into slices.
* If you want them to be more crunchy - Arrange the slices upright on a cookie sheet and back 20 min longer.
ENJOY.

After reading it, I suppose my mommy ADD kicked in, I was tired. I emailed her back saying "Thanks but no thanks, few ingredients...but looks too hard. I guess if I saw it being made it would be easier." She emailed me back and I pissed myself reading her response. NOTE** If you are offended by cursing...STOP reading.

DUDE _ THIS IS FUCKING EASY!! Are you getting weak in your old age!!???? Melt the shit in the microwave - mix it with the dry stuff and the nuts. Scoop it out of the friggin bowl in 4 scoops. Put it in the fridge to chill. (While they're chilling you can wash the fucking bowl and put away the other crap).

Take them out - roll each one into a log and bake the fucking things at 350 for 30 minutes. Take them off of the cookie sheet and cut them in diagonal pieces!!

GEEZ US! You get all these cookies from one cookie sheet and one bowl.

I can't believe this is too hard for someone who rolls up chocolate cake in a dishtowel, lets it cool, unrolls it, frosts it, rolls it up again, frosts is again with a different frosting, draws lines on it with so it looks like a fucking log!!!!

OMG - WHO THE HELL ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY FRIEND DEE????????

To my friends who I have neglected--I'm soooo sorrry. I promise I will be back after Christmas when the kids are on vacation. To the working world--thanks for welcoming me back so warmly. And Terri? You slay me!
Off to make my biscotti!

White Christmas

2008-12-20T04:57:00.021-05:00

Looks like it is going to be a White Christmas here on Wilde Lane. We got about 11 inches of snow yesterday into last night. I woke up at about 4:15 this am to a whining dog. I played possum and let the Man I Married take the dog out. Our mini doxie only stands about 3inches off the ground & hates snow. In this kind of snow we have to physically bring the bitch out. As soon I heard the back door click, I raced to the bathroom to pee and ran back to bed so he wouldn't know I was awake. Even after standing outside in 20 degree weather in his skivvies, he and his bitch were snoring again within four minuets. Don't ya know I couldn't get back to sleep? I grabbed a nice cup of hot coffee and tried to figure out what I should do to enjoy this heavenly quiet. I took a picture of my grill covered with snow, a treasured tradition for me. Silence. Sigh. I settled down on the couch nice nice with my coffee and was all set to watch tv...who plops their ass down next to me? The Man I Married says he couldn't sleep either, ~~beats his chest~~ takes command of the remote control and proceeded to flip between an annoying talk show and Suzie Orman. I don't want to listen to five people talk over each other to get thier point across (that will happen soon enough when the three kids get up) and Suzie stresses me out. She preaches that you should have eight months worth of living expenses. Shit, we don't have two weeks worth! She wouldn't approve me to buy a week's worth of groceries if I asked her. So now it's five am I'm not sleeping warm and snug in my bed. Suzie, the five talk show argue-ers (yes it's a word, my word, dash and all) and my husband have all aggravated the piss out of me already. I think I'll just take my blood pressure medicine and go back to bed. So help me God if he follows me.

Am I the only one who breeds socks?

2008-12-17T23:06:00.007-05:00

Am I the only one who breeds socks? This laundry basket goes from the bedroom to the living room, back to the bedroom, to the basement if we have company, back to the living room, to the kids room...all the while the pile grows. In the winter it's the dumping grounds for odd mittens and scarfs. During the summer it is the dump for all stray bathing suits.
We all rummage thru the basket looking for a pair, and it seems as though there are never two socks alike. Why is that? I waste more time looking for a pair of socks, yet there is N O T H I N G that motivates me to fold them. Anyone else have this sock problem? In all honesty I think that friggen pile of socks only gets completly done three times a year, maybe. UNLESS...Mother Mary comes over (which is way under 3times a year, and she only lives 9/10s of a mile away.) She is completly appauled that A) they are not folded and put away (she had four kids I only have three, all her socks were put away you know) 2) that we even own that many socks (her kids had five pair of socks each, because she did the laundry every day, there is no need to have that many socks) and C) there could possibly be socks missing. Mother Mary swears that she has "never" lost a sock in 46 year. OK. Sure.

I actually think the reason why I have this basket is to prove a point. I don't quite know what that point is, but when I figure it out I'll let you know. I wonder what my kids are gonna do with thier socks when they have thier own homes? And will I be able to keep my mouth shut about what I did with my socks? Eh I probably won't.

Tonight I asked the Man I Married if he could kindly fold the socks for me. He said "sure bring them to the living room." Sounded too good to be true, and it was. I went out and came home to the basket intact. I guess I will move the socks to the corner in the dining room so I don't see them first thing when I wake up.

Watch out for flying objects!

2008-12-16T12:02:00.004-05:00

I have to say the video of President Bush getting shoes hummed at his head is a lil' bit funny. Ok, so I actually found it very funny. As soon as I saw George dodge those shoes I had to wonder if he's had practice at that, because he did one hell of a job moving out the way that fast! Think Laura Bush in all her sweet southerness throws shoes at Georgie? Think she swears at him? I wonder. He must piss her off from time to time.

The shoe throwing reminded me of the early years in my marriage. I didn't know how to fight, I 'd never been married. The only way I knew how to fight was to yell. My dad was a yeller, so I thought I should do that too. Well, yelling didn't work. Crying didn't work ( I married the most unsympathetic man I swear.) So one time he pissed me of bad. I yelled, I swore, I cried...tried everything. For what ever reason I had a head of raw cabbage in my hand. I hummed it at that man's head, and he dodged the flying cabbage nicely. I can still remember what the living room looked like at the time, paneled walls and flowered curtains. I think that image will stay in my head forever. And HE cleaned up the mess, I know I didn't.

It really was not very nice of that man to hum those shoes at Mr. Bush. REALLY...chuckle chuckle. My kids know I dislike W immensely and asked if I was glad that the man did that. I told them in my best mother like voice, "No matter how much we dislike someone, violence is not an option."

But what if W had gotten hit with those size 10 shoes? And what if the man I married had gotten whacked with that head of cabbage? Think it would have smacked any sense into either one of them? Nope. I don't think so either.

2008-12-14T22:38:00.002-05:00

I have not decided yet if it's a good think I cannot figure out how to post pictures or if it's a bad thing.

I know that pictures help make a blog interesting. Like dressing up the walls in a room. Who dosen't want the visitors to like what they see? Keeps 'em coming back for more. Here's my problem, being the Libra that I am, I can't make up my mind. I don't know if I want the world to see my world. Make sense? Here's the thing...I am a very private person, ok so it's more like paranoid. I don't want people to know what my kids or my house or my world looks like, lest they stalk me and find me. OK? So I said it. I'm paranoid. I look at other people's blogs and I wish I could be that open about sharing my stuff. I love to look at pictures in other people's blogs. I notice the pretty color on the bathroom walls that people hang things on, or the kitchen table where little boys make messes at thier mema's house. I guess that in some way shape or form, those houses are much like mine..ok most of them are alot cleaner than mine. But when I do see messes, I love it, makes me feel ~~better than~~ like I'm not the only one with a messy house.

I guess maybe it's a little stage fright?
Maybe once I figure out how to do it, and just do it, it will be fine?

Am I a bad mother?

2008-12-08T16:46:00.002-05:00

So my question is this.. Am I a bad mother because I cannot listen to my 13 year old daughter who thinks she is Joan Biaz, sing?

My sister bought her an acoustic guitar for her birthday over the summer, and God bless the child, she has learned to play so quickly. She's played violin since she was 9. She was one of those kids who actually practiced. (First kid--over achiever.) So I guess violin, guitar same thing? I don't know music. All I know is she knows how to play the guitar. The strumming of the guitar doesn't bother me one bit. I can tolerate the guitar. The problem is when she sings. Oh dear Lord it is like a pack of wild wolves are howling to one another. This is the very same child who when she was five,would sing the song "Maybe" from the musical Annie, and bring tears to my eyes. Different kind of tears from today's tears. I would actually choke up when I listened to her. I would think to myself "her voice is so beautiful, she could be a singer when she grows up." I'm thinking, maybe I said it out loud? One too many times?

Her repertoire of instruments has grown since her birthday over the summer. My crazy sister was kind enough to give the child an electric guitar. My crazy sister lets the kids (now all teens) play to their heart's content in her basement at her house, amplifier and all. She's nuts. She says the noise dosen't bother her. Since there is no amp here, I'm safe from hearing the electric guitar. She also has a trombone that the band teacher at school gave her. We affectionately call it the butt trumpet. I must say I do enjoy when she plays that. It sounds so bad its good. The stupid teacher handed her the trombone and a VCR tape and called it a lesson. What she knows she has taught herself. Hey she must be doing ok, she got an A in band. Don't know how, as we don't have a working VCR in the house.

So tell me, does it make me a bad mother that it makes me crazy when she sings? Oh it's so bad.

2008-12-06T06:26:00.003-05:00

Oh its been a week.

Let's start off the blog with a brownie, I really need it.

For the past couple of weeks I have been trying to make some new Christmas decorations to spruce this place up. So I had a day off and was able to spend the whole day to myself at the sewing machine. The house was fairly neat (never clean), laundry caught up, dinner in the crock pot. I was in a good place. As I was sewing I absent mindedly did not change the foot on the machine. Ya not supposed to zig zag with a 1/4 inch foot. So the needle snaped on that first zig. WHAP...that muther came humming at my eye. OUCH! I'm sitting there stunned that my sewing machine would do this to me. I then think "Sheesh I'm lucky I still l have an eye." I was afraid to go look in the mirror because it felt wet when my hand went to my eye. I was alone. I didn't think I was up to dealing with a river of blood. OUCH that hurt. It didn't end up being blood, it was tears. My eye teared up right away. I think I was crying too.

The needle in my eye? That was the good part of my day. About an hour later I got a call from the boy's teacher at school. I love this teacher she is as sweet as sugar...and great at what she does. She starts the conversation off with "There was an incident at recess." Crap crap crap crap crap...no mother of a boy wants to hear of an "incident." What did he say that was mean? Who did he punch? Did he chip his front tooth? She then goes on to preface the conversation with "We have been finding alot of used condoms out in the school yard." To which I say "OH NO. He didn't?" "Yup he did. He picked it up and was walking in from recess with it." The boy is seven. In the six years his feet have been on the ground I have been telling him things like: "Put that thing down its dirty, don't pick that up you don't know where its been. DROP IT!" So Mrs. B says "In his defense it was bright orange and looked like a balloon." Dear God up in heaven above, my girls never did things like this! She went on to tell me that she washed his hands and washed them again, Germ-Xd them, and washed them again, and Germ-Xd them again. I thanked her for calling. I called her back about four minuets later after I processed the word balloon and asked her to please ask this child if he tried to blow this dirty rotten object up. I know my son. He professed no he did not. She told me that she explained that what he touched was very germy and could have some very very bad germs on it and he needed to tell the truth. (Brownie anyone?)

Grrr.....Did I mention that I am a germ a phobe? As soon as that boy walked in the door from school an hour later, I stripped him and threw him in the shower. I washed his coat (the one I just washed the night before! Months can go by without washing the dirty rotten thing, now twice in one week).

In the meantime I'd called the pediatrician. I adore this man. He has been the boy's doctor since he was born. His last name is Silversmith, and the boy used to call him Dr. Zoozamif. We still refer to him as Dr. Zoozamif. He has guided me thru so much with this child. He said as a physician his opinion was that all diseases that could be on the condom were most likely dead. As a parent however, if it were his child he would run all the necessary blood tests now and then again in six months. For peace of mind I'd decided we needed to do blood work. He would mail me the lab script. Friday would be the day he would go for blood work. Shoot me now. That child has been a bad patient since the second he was born. (Shoving brownie in my mouth, excuse me)

Fast forward two days. I'd not heard from the school nurse or principal. I was so mad that neither one of them had the decency to acknowledge the situation. I started with the nurse, because I had a sneaky suspicion that she knew nothing of the "incident." She splits between two schools, and was not at our school at the time. I was correct, Mr. douche bag Principal never told her about it. I informed her, and explained this extreme anger she heard in my voice was not directed toward her, and it would have been nice to get a call from her at some point in the following 24 hours of "the incident." She agreed. I then called the douche bag of a principal that I have been dealing with for 10 years. Have I mentioned he's a douche bag? His response to me was "I did not assume that the item (the "item?" the "item?" say it asshole....the condom!!) was used when I heard what it was." NO? NO? PFFT. I said "come on Mr. Douche Bag...if it was YOUR son don't you think you would have to assume it was dirty? Wouldn't YOU have appreciated a call from the principal?" He then proceeded to give me six minuets and thirty seven seconds of lip service (I always look at the time counter on the phone when I talk to him, usually our calls are under a minuet--as I was the president of the PTO and talked to him often. He's not interested in talking.) After digesting his poor critical thinking skills, I called the Health Office in the administration building, and the director of elementary education (for what that was worth) and chewed their ears off about how this man should not be in the position that he is. I was pissed. (hurry if you want a brownie, they almost gone)

For three days I cried about this (did I mention that I stuck a needle in my eye too?????) Boy did that muther hurt every time I cried!!! I am now down to just some broken blood vessels in my eye (the one I'm lucky to have) and the boy had his blood drawn (I pleaded with my husband) and he agreed to do the blood work thing. I just couldn't. I can do alot of things but that torture was way too much for me. So that sweet sweet man I married actually came thru in a pinch! I know a couple of you are thinking "its about time!" Me too. Hooray for small miracles.

Oh did you say you wanted one of those brownies? Sorry I didn't mean to eat the whole plate. I proooomise to save you one next time.

2008-12-02T15:07:00.004-05:00

The beginning of the end has begun.

December. It's already December and the year is almost over. Where did it go? 2008 was supposed to be the year I got myself "together." With the little boy starting first grade, my brood of three were now all in school full time. I was going to be able to look at my walls and floors and see them gleaming from being so clean. I was going to finally be able to sit on the couch and pop bon bon's like I'm supposed to. Only I see more dirt. The walls are now thicker with more crud, and the floors haven't been washed but twice. In the course of 2008 I returned to work after a 14 year absence. Hey Deb from the Edge...wanna swap? You can take my job, oh jobless one, since you offered up your husband! This job thing sucks. It is the second major demise to my hope of ever getting my house clean. (The first demise came 7 and a half years ago when "the boy" was born--he was born a house wrecker)

So I guess I should start thinking about what I can set my 2009 goals for...something that I can actually attain. Dieting? Nope that didn't work, I think I tried that in '97, '98, & '99. The new millennium was surely going to be the year the diet worked. NOPE. Gave that up. 2001 I think I just said "screw it" and didn't give anything up that year (sex included...the boy came along in 2001.) 2002 with the boy being here I gave up cleaning for the next five years. Oh you should see the pictures of this swill pit when he was home 24/7. On the other hand, when I look at those pictures I remember all the joy that little boy brought to my life. I digress, back to setting goals that I can reach. I stopped smoking, reluctantly I stopped swearing (for the most part--I do love a good swear from time to time), and I don't drink (I wish I did tho.)

Wait! I got it....Since I now leave my house (kicking and screaming) every day, maybe I should resume shaving my legs in the winter. I could get in an accident you know. Sometimes I think to myself "if today is the day they have to cut my pants off those rescue workers are gonna get a good laugh at my lazy ass expense." My son asked his father what that razor was doing in the way up on the tip top shelf in the shower. Man I married said "It's mom's she uses it on her legs." The little boy says "No she doesn't. Have you seen her legs Dad? They are just as hairy as yours." My sweet sweet boy. It's official. 2009 will be the year of the razor! Until then I will keep the leg hair braided.

2008-11-25T08:40:00.004-05:00

I knew as soon as I woke up to the pouring rain today I knew that is what I was going to talk about on my blog, but after reading Suz's comment on germs my last blog...I have to add to my morning's agenda.

About germs...I'm a germaphob, and those around me know it. My kids know the first thing I say when we walk in the door from ANYWHERE is "go wash your hands." Cover your face when you cough and sneeze, and for heavens sake if you cough or sneeze into your hands instead of your elbow "GO WASH YOUR HANDS." I wish I was the person who invented the elbow as a germ shield instead of using your hands.

So last week we all had nasty colds in my house, they bounced from one to another in the appropriate amount of time so there was a constant stream--if you will --of germs flying. On this one particular day it was my turn to be the keeper of bad germs. I was so careful about not touching food and cups and utensils as to not recirculate the germs. We were turning in for the night, and I noticed that the water container in the fridge was down to about two ounces (nobody left it that way, it "just happened") and I being the mother of the joint took it upon myself to fill it. The man I married was standing in front of the fridge, so I hand him the filled container of water, which was dripping a bit. HE LICKED IT RIGHT AT THE SPOUT! If I could have beat him I would have. Can you say D I S G U S T I N G? How is it a 44 year old man can at times have fewer brains than his seven year old son? He licked it. I cannot tell you how many times I have caught this man drinking out of the gallon of milk. It grosses me out to no end. I wonder if that is why I don't drink milk anymore. Here I was thinking I just didn't like it anymore...I think I'm onto something!

So if you ever come to my house and I offer you something to drink, be sure it comes out of its own container.

Now to the rain....I love a rainy day. It gives me so much freedom. I cannot see the dirt and dust in the house, therefore don't feel the pressure to clean it. I look at a rainy day as a "gift." It's like a get out of cleaning pass. A pass to let things slide and take things at my own pace (which is very slow.) This is one of the things I appreciate a little more since I've gone back to work. I actually am lucky enough to have a rainy day off! Rain rain rain. So I guess in the spirit of Thanksgiving, I will give thanks today for the rain.

Gotta scoot....the couch is calling!

2008-11-22T11:49:00.005-05:00

Date with my boy was as fun as it gets at one of those things can be with a seven year old who only wants to run around. The hall the dance was in was much smaller than the school cafeteria. The second largest city in the state of RI has cut out every last flipping extra that we took for granted. They no longer will let us use school buildings, on account the electricity costs too much? So shut the lights of its a dance for crying out loud!! So off to the senior center we went. I actually liked it better because since it was smaller room , there was less room for all the little boys to run around in, minimizing my aggravation.

There was a dance contest to see which mom and son danced best. So the boy and I dance to Michael Jackson's "Don't stop till ya get enough, " a grotesque song ALMOST as long as "Thriller." So here we are a bunch of rythemless mothers huffing and puffing giving each other the side eye "is this torture almost over?"

I am sure that the DJ who chose the winning team had no idea that she probably made this woman's life. I don't know her story, but I do recall a couple of years ago this mom was fighting some sort of cancer, and bravely carried on her duties as mom. At last year's pirate dance, she worked that bandanna over her head right into her outfit and fit right in. As I walked off the dance floor (ok I crawled) I was all choked up thinking to myself for that mom--it can't get any better than this, she saw another year of her son's life, got to dance with him AND won the dance contest. And if she is real lucky, that boy let her give him a great big kiss before he goes to bed.

They had a special dance for the moms and sons of the sixth graders, and I watched many of my friends get all choked up dancing with their sons. We blinked our eyes and they grew up. So as I cringed as my boy stuffed his face full of cake and chips and cookies after his break dancing on the dirty, scummy floor....and I wanted to screeeeech GO WASH YOUR HANDS!!!!!!!!!! I just let him go and remembered he won't be seven forever.

2008-11-21T17:51:00.001-05:00

Ok, now that I got my digs somewhat set up I feel comfy enough to start blogging. It's like sitting down to watch tv with toys and clothes and crap in my "field of view." Can't do it. I need order. MIM (Man I Married) doesn't understand this, the world could be crumbling down around him and so long as he has the remote control in his hand, he can block it all out.

Tonight is date night with my boy--we are going to the Mother/Son dance at school. He is so excited about it; annoyingly so. As soon as we walked in the door this afternoon he began the haunt me to fix his army pants (Army theme) that he broke the clasp on last week. (Couldn't he break them NEXT week?) I wanted to fix it with a diaper pin--nope it was NOT an option, as he hemmed and hawed till I gave in and pulled out the needle and thread. Pant situation remedied, and now he's clock watching...ok clock asking..."how many more minuets?" "how much longer?" This is routine Boy. Last year the theme was pirates, it took me longer to make his pants (an hour and a half, again it was WAIST band problems...the child has OCD issues with the way his clothes fit) We were there 45 minuets and he declared "I'm ready, let's go home." Since we are double dating tonight we will have to walk home in 21 degree weather.

There's nothing like a date with my boy.

Blogger wanna be in RI

2008-11-19T17:51:00.002-05:00

For now I am a blogger wanna be...
I can't seem to find anything clever to say. I don't understand blogger lingo, and I cannot make up my mind what I want my blog to look like. Come back from time to time, I may just figure it all out one of these days.
For now I'm just a "blogger wannabe from RI."