Dear Abby...

Wow!! I am officially the mother of a teenager! You have reached one of the first big milestones in your life, and it's bittersweet for me as I watch you, my firstborn daughter, shift into that space, somewhere between childhood and womanhood. This time in your life is full of choices and changes. Some of these changes are exciting; some will feel uncertain and a little scary. You're going to make some mistakes along the way, but that's all part of growing up. Don't ever be too hard on yourself when you make a mistake, and never regret anything that happens in your life. Your past cannot be changed, forgotten or undone, but you can learn from your mistakes and use every new day as a second chance to do better. You will never have to go through anything alone. I am always right with you, I am here to help you whenever and however I can, and I am always ready to catch you when you fall. I've accepted, though, that the times are coming when you won't always need or want me around anymore, and that's okay. I want you to be independent and live out your own dreams, and I know there will be many moments still that you will need and want me with you. For those times, and every other time in between, I will never be far - always right beside you, every step of the way. Please try to be patient with me when I don't seem to know what I'm doing, and I'll do the same for you, because at the same time you are learning how to be a teenager, I'm learning how to be the mother of one. This is all new for me too, and I'm excited to see how our relationship will change and grow as we enter this new chapter together. I hope we can always keep our lines of communication open and that you know you can talk to me about anything and everything. I may not always agree with you, but I value your opinion and I want to hear what you have to say. I will always listen with open ears, an open mind and an open heart. I will never judge you or make you feel ashamed of your feelings, decisions or mistakes. It wasn't very long ago I was a teenager myself, so I understand the things you are going through more than you may think. Be brave enough to ask for help when you don't know which way to turn. I'm here to guide and support you always. I am certain that you can do anything you set your mind to, because you are filled with endless potential for greatness, no matter which path you choose. I know that sometimes you may feel like you already know everything. You know the important things for sure. You know to be generous and kind; to stand up for others; to hold yourself accountable for what you've done - both right and wrong, and to always be honest, because you've learned the consequence for getting caught in a lie is far worse than telling the truth upfront. You know to try new things; to enjoy good food, to enjoy a good book, and to enjoy a good laugh. You know to say "please" and "thank you"; to offer your help to anyone who needs it. You know the importance of family, and the meaning of a true friend. But there are plenty of things you don't know yet and will learn along the way. The biggest thing to learn is that there will always be more to learn, no matter how old or smart you are. Never stop searching for knowledge. Be wise in knowing what you don't know, and if you don't know the answer, ask. Learn the facts, but never allow other's opinions to take up residence in your mind. Do your own research; form your own opinions. It's the best way to grow. You still have so much to explore, and I am excited to see where it all takes you. The beauty that life has in store for you is beyond anything you can imagine. There is so much to look forward to and you may feel ready to grow up and put your childhood behind you now, but I ask that you don't run away from it just yet. You still have a few good years of being a kid left in you. You will have the rest of your life to be an adult, so until then, take it slow. Don't rush through life always waiting for the good parts to come. They're happening every day! I pray that you see yourself as I see you. Beautiful. Funny. Confident. Gentle. Brilliant. Kind. Generous. Creative. Compassionate. Strong. I pray that you know how much I love you, even when we're fighting and you think that you hate me. I hope that you can remember that I have your best interest at heart, will do anything for you and would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. No one in this world will ever love you the way I love you. Find the good in people and look for the silver lining and humor in every situation. Laughter is the best medicine and a positive attitude is infectious. When things aren't going well, keep reminding yourself "this too shall pass." No matter how mad you are, or how sad you may feel, it will not last forever. Certain losses, though, will impact you for the rest of your life, but time does heal pain. I promise. Whatever you decide to do in life, make sure it makes you happy. Do something every day that you love. Be true to yourself. Go your own way, and walk away from anything, or anyone, who no longer serves you, grows you, respects you or makes you happy. Be careful with your words. Once they are said, they can only be forgiven, not forgotten. Have fun, and a lot of it. Be kind and laugh often, but not at the expense of others. Be grateful for your blessings and enjoy them, but don’t forget to help others who are not as fortunate. Don't hold grudges. Life is way too short to constantly be mad at someone. Everyone makes mistakes, so let things go and be forgiving, but distance yourself from negativity. Just because you forgive someone, it doesn't mean they deserve to stay in your life. Don't make time for mean girls, and don't be one. Always remember you have bigger things to worry about than wasting time or energy on people who treat you badly. Ignore them. You can't change the way people treat you, you can only change the way they make you feel. You are in charge of your life and how you feel about yourself. Surround yourself with people who you like and who like you... And always be yourself. It’s better to feel happy and content in a small group - or even alone - than to feel empty and lonely in a big crowd. Be confident enough not to follow the crowd, as tempting as it may be, because most of the time, all those cool kids are simply too afraid or too weak to be more than a just a follower. In my eyes, you are beautifully perfect in every way. Take pride in presenting yourself in the best possible light, through your words, your actions and your appearance. Take care of your appearance and your mental well being. A heathy body and a healthy mind are the key to living a long, happy life. Work hard, and just when you think you’ve worked as hard as you possibly can for something, work a little bit harder. Going the extra mile in everything you do will set you apart from all the rest. Never stop learning. Enjoy everything you've accomplished, big or small. Believe in yourself, because if you don’t believe in you, you will never convince anyone else to. Show the world all that you have to offer! Let them see what I have always seen in you - greatness and love. And please, don’t be envious of others. Someone is always going to have more than you may have or be better than you at certain things. Just worry about doing the best that you can do. It's enough. You're enough. Always put your family first. When it really counts, your family will always love and support you no matter what. It is my hope that you, George and Norah will always be close and take care of each other, even when you’re grown and long after daddy and I are gone. Always set a good example for each other. Be each other’s cheerleaders and raise each other up. Support one another. Talk to each another. Listen. Be there when they need you, and they'll be there for you. It's true what they say - blood is thicker than water. Nurture the bond that you have, and take care of each other, always. When the time comes I pray one day you will find a man, more kind and loving than you could have ever imagined, and that he’ll love you as much as I do. Be selective and careful with whom you entrust your heart. It's your most beautiful gift to give, and anyone you share it with will be a better person for it. You may fall in and out of love several times in life, and each time will be different. When it doesn't work out, don't let heartbreak discourage you, harden you or keep you guarded. Let your guard down, keep your heart open and remember how being in love feels. When your heart is telling you it's right, let yourself fall madly and deeply in love, but don't let love change who you are, or who you want to be. Don't settle for anything less than you deserve or allow yourself to be put last in any relationship. Giving your heart to someone and sharing in their happiness shouldn't take away from your own. I hope that you find a man that will love you for who you are today and tomorrow and forever. You have a beautiful light inside of you that I admire so much. Never allow anyone to extinguish it; find someone who will nourish that fire and make it shine brighter. I see you becoming an amazing mother someday. You have a patient, gentle heart that makes you a natural, and your children will know how lucky they are to have you as their mother. Seeing your baby's face for the first time will take your breath away. Trust me, I know. It will be in that moment you finally understand just how deeply I have loved you and will always love you. Most importantly, remember nothing in life is guaranteed. Tomorrow is promised to no one, so never take anything or anyone for granted. Be thankful for your blessings and tell your loved ones that you love them, every chance you get. Sometimes it seems like yesterday that I was holding you in my arms for the first time, but when I think of all that you and I have been through, it amazes me that it's only been 13 years. Even before you were born, from the moment I knew you existed, I have loved you more than I ever thought possible. You teach me more about my own life and make me want to be a better person. You are a blessing to everyone fortunate enough to have met you, and you make me proud to be your mother every single day. Happy 13th birthday, Abby. I love you.

I'm so happy the weekend is here. This was a short week, but somehow it seemed even longer than usual. We don't have much planned, which is a relief because the past few weekends have been packed with fun. I have some laundry to catch up on, and Christmas really needs to be packed away, but that's about all I plan to do.

Last Friday Natalie came over with the girls, and at the last minute Gary called and asked if we would mind his and Ava's company for dinner as well. Being a family that strongly believes in "the more the merrier," we of course did not mind. It was great seeing them since it has been too long since I've seen Ava. I missed that little bugger like crazy. I invited them all to come back again the next night for New Year's Eve, and told Gary to pack clothes for himself and Ava and plan to stay over, which he did. We had a small crowd on New Year's Eve - Greg, Sue and Sophie; Gary and Ava; Natalie, Carolynn, Grace, Kristen and Chris; a couple of Abby's friends; and my in-laws were all here. After a head count we realized the adults were completely outnumbered by kids. It was a fun night, especially since, for the first year, all the kids managed to stay awake until midnight to celebrate. The next morning, we woke up, ate breakfast, and straightened up the house to start the party all over again. Jay and Lisa were on their way over with the boys, and since Gary had already been living here for two days, we told him he may as well keep it going and stay for a third! He and Ava stayed and Norah's cousin (also named Ava) came over to hang out. At the end of the day, the adults (which at this point were just George and me) were once again outnumbered when Jayson and Jayme asked to stay over along with Norah's cousin Ava. George was off from work the next day so I didn't mind. Not that it would have mattered if he wasn't off from work since it's not very often that there is not a group of close to a dozen kids here. Despite the gang of kids on this particular Monday, and the continued preparing, serving and cleaning up of constant meals for more than a dozen people for four straight days, I did manage to squeeze in a few moments to sit back and take in the scene of all the happy, laughing kids, that to some may seem chaotic and stressful, but to me was a glimpse of a weekend I hope my kids will remember for many years to come, and I only hope we can recreate the same scene again next year.

While getting Norah dressed for bed...

Me: Hey pretty girl, what's your name?
Norah: My name is Norah Bean!
Me: Nice to meet you, Miss Bean! Do you know my name?
Norah: I do know your name already! It's "Mommy the Best."

May your dreams be full of stars, Norah the Sweetest...

Did you?

"Braking" Up Is Hard To Do

101 Random Things About Moi

1. I was born in Florida.
2. I was raised in New Jersey from the age of ten months.
3. I have not lived in NJ for almost 6 years now.
4. But when people ask me where I'm from, I still say New Jersey.
5. I have no relationship with my biological father.

6. I was adopted by my dad when I was 3 years old.
7. I detest when people refer to my biological father as my "real" dad. My REAL dad raised me.
8. I am afraid of the dark.
9. I am afraid of basements.
10. I have no sense of direction... I make a wrong turn and get lost constantly. Even in my own neighborhood.

11. I've been called "Charlie Brown" because of my habit of sticking out my tongue when I am concentrating really hard.
12. I only eat bite sized food in even numbers. (i.e. cereal, m&m's, nuts, chips etc, etc, etc...)
13. I would die for my children.
14. More significantly, there is nothing I wouldn't do to protect them.
15. I quit smoking cigarettes in 2001.

16. I occasionally sneak a cigarette when no one is watching me.
17. Food, family and travel are my passions.
18. I don't travel near enough.
19. I love the studies of psychology and sociology.
20. I love the smell and feel of an old book

21. I am an honest person, always.
22. I have never cheated on anyone.
23. I have been cheated on.
24. I have been truly in love twice in my life.
25. I do not want to be cremated when I die.

26. I am a creature of habit, but I hate living in a routine.
27. Red wine gives me a nasty hangover.
28. I drink it anyway.
29. Tequila makes me want to dance.
30. I don't dance well.

31. I would love to learn ballroom dancing.
32. I am five foot seven.
33. I have never had a broken bone.
34. I am very reserved at first glance.
35. But when you get to know me I never shut up.

36. I don't like confrontation. I am unassertive. I don't stick up for myself very well.
37. I think that comes from being an only child.
38. I have never had a cavity.
39. I hope I never have a cavity search.
40. I have never been arrested.

41. I get very frustrated with people who do not use spell check.
42. I hate when people type LiKe tHiS.
43. Inconsiderate people piss me off.
44. I am one of the few people that misses high school.
45. I am left handed.

46. I sleep with my socks on.
47. I sleep with my underwear off.
48. I love to read.
49. I love to write.
50. I cannot sleep with the heater on.

51. I always sleep with the window cracked above my bed in the winter.
52. I hate the smell of Pine-Sol.
53. I love the smell of sweat.
54. I pour milk on my Jello.
55. I like mustard and onions on my grilled cheese sandwiches.

56. I think coffee smells better than it tastes.
57. I have been pregnant four times.
58. I have three children.
59. I would love to have at least one more someday.
60. I love being a mom more than anything.

61. I used to play the clarinet.
62. I wish I could play the piano.
63. I believe strongly in human connection and experience vs. material possessions.
64. I have ADD.
65. I stay up way too late most nights.

66. I have never had braces.
67. I love time alone.
68. I'm scared of turning thirty.
69. I'm even more afraid of the alternative.
70. I love sleeping in bed with my kids.

71. I have never worn glasses or contacts.
72. I always get anxious flying in a plane.
73. But I want to skydive someday.
74. I love the vibe of airports.
75. I love people watching.

76. I am a great speller.
77. I won the spelling bee in the fourth grade.
78. I love romantic comedies.
79. I crave recognition when I work hard.
80. I want beautifully manicured nails.

81. I hate fake fingernails.
82. I love a tidy house.
83. I used to be a bit disorganized.
84. I still keep a few junk drawers to satisfy my inner pack-rat.
85. I am a giver by nature.

86. I'd love to go to the theatre more often.
87. I believe we could all use a little more "please" and "thank you."
88. I don't have a favorite color; I like them all, but I'm partial to green and purple. Pink too.
89. I love to cook.
90. I'd like to bake more often, but I'm lazy about it.

91. I love to sing, but I am horrible at it!
92. I love cloudy, rainy or snowy days.
93. I love going down the shore.
94. I love the mountains even more.
95. I love lakes and rivers.

96. I adore Ireland.
97. I have a soft spot for animals, babies, and any human with a good soul.
98. Margaritas are my favorite alcoholic drink.
99. I am turned on by Irish accents.
100. I love and crave old-school romance.

101. I believe in soul mates, destiny, karma and kindred spirits.

I'm thinking my children watch too much Showtime...

Abby: I know you said you're TRYING to be nice, but you're still not allowed around my
children!!

Georgie: But if you let me in, I promise I won't kill them.

Abby: I know, but I still think you're trying to trick me!! GET OUT!!!! Help! Police!!

"Hey Mom, Miss C. said we can bring a movie into school tomorrow. But, we don't have a DVD player in our classroom, so it has to be one of those really old rectangle movies."

Ready for her first ballet class.

The Sixth Sense

We were running a little early this morning. Georgie, Norah and I had well over a half hour to burn before Georgie had to be in school, so the kids (although oblivious to what a cemetery is, since I never really found the need, or desire, to explain it to them) asked to walk around the "park" behind the church. The church/school was built in the 1700's, and most of the graves are over 200 years old. Most of these have not been visited in decades; these are the ones I love to visit. I try to imagine the people buried there, what their lives were like, and how they died. I tend to steer clear of the newer plots. The graves that are still very new, still just a pile of dirt and freshly cut flowers are too depressing for this early in the day.

As I walked this morning, Georgie was walking his usual 10 feet behind me, happily humming to himself and kicking an acorn down the path. Norah, holding onto my finger, pointed out the birds and squirrels, and the occasional plane flying overhead. When we came closer to the end of the path, Georgie looked up and focused intently on a little bench a few feet away.

"Look, Mom!" He pointed to the bench sitting under a tree. "There's my friend!"

I looked up, thinking I'd find one of his classmates standing around, waiting for school to start, like we were.

"I don't see anybody, buddy. Who do you see?"

"The little girl over there. She's very sad today."

"Oh, ok. I'm sorry she's so sad. Maybe you can make her happy again." I started to blow him off since my children have quite the imagination, and we have had dozens of imaginary friends in and out of our lives over the years.

"No, Mom. That little girl wants to play with me but she can't. She's very sad because she can't breathe." He sighed, looking very sad himself, and then continued, still looking in the direction of the bench. "She wants to come to school with me, but she can't, right Mommy? She has to stay here in the grass. She's very, very sad. I wish she wasn't dead anymore so I can play with her."

He pointed again towards the direction of the bench, and then I remembered something about that little corner of the cemetery. At the very end of the path, a few feet from the little bench, there is a very special grave that I visit on occasion. It is the grave of a three-year-old girl who died almost 20 years ago.

September, so far.

It's well into the month of September, and the new school year started without (too much of) a hitch. Abby started in her new school last week, and she is loving it. She has the teacher I was hoping for, and Abby adores her. My husband is quite fond of her too, since she is a Penn State grad (as is he), and she is a huge fan of Penn State football (as is he). She gets the kids fired up for any home games, and has them cheering "We are...Penn State!" in the classroom. Abby's workload has not been too unbearable, but it is only the first full week, so I am expecting that to change within the next week or so.

Georgie had a great first day on Monday. He was excited to start school in the same room Abby started in two years ago. He already knew all the teachers from taking Abby to and from school, and from my volunteering during lunch the last couple of years. So when his second day did not go so well, I was a bit surprised. George had come with us that morning to see Georgie off, and I noticed he seemed a little quieter standing next to his cubby than he had the morning before, but I figured he was overwhelmed by the gaggle of anxious kids, and their even-more-anxious parents, stuffed into the very tiny and unventilated hallway. But when it was time to go into his classroom, I expected him to bounce in like he had the day before. But he didn't. He cried for us to stay. I wanted to do just that, or atleast if I had to leave, I wanted to take him with me. But I knew he had to stay, and I had to go, so I figured a little reassurance and a quick hug goodbye was my best exit strategy. I reluctantly headed to the gym with Norah and tried to run out my anxiety on the treadmill, keeping my cell phone close by in case the school called to say they had never seen a child in such despair, and that I should run back and pick him up immediately. The phone never rang, and when I picked him up two hours later, his teachers told me that, no matter what they tried, he just kept insisting on going home. He quietly refused to participate in any of the crafts, games or work from the day (though, somehow, he found the strength to console himself enough to eat his snack). But, they said, when the morning was ending and they were cleaning up for the day, Georgie walked up to them and said, "I'm comin' back tomorrow, and I'm not gonna cry."

That night, Georgie and I talked alot. He told me that he didn't want to live at school, and he was afraid that I would forget to come back for him. After spending over an hour reassuring him that school was not his new place to live, just a place to visit, he seemed ready to try again. The last few days since have been great, and when I drop him off in the morning, he once again walks into his classroom with a little bounce in his step.

As for me, the morning scramble has been an adjustment - getting Abby to school by 7:30 and then wasting a bit of time running a few quick errands until Georgie has to be in around 8:45. Afterwards, Norah and I usually head over to the gym where she plays with her friends in the daycare while I slog away on the treadmill or stationary bike for an hour. I usually have just enough time to run home and get changed before it's time to pick up Georgie (and this week Abby's school is running on half days, so by the time Georgie is in the car, we're heading across the street to wait for Abby). Homework is next, which I was right to dread. It's a bit more complicated with two backpacks to sort out, but as we get organized, it will get easier.

Tonight Abby starts ballet, and Tuesdays Georgie has soccer. Wednesday nights are set aside for swimming, but I'm not sure if three nights of activities will be too much to keep up with. I think our plate is already quite full.

First day of first grade (almost)...

She doesn't start until tomorrow, but we tried everything on one last time to make sure everything still fit, and I figured I'd post a pre-first-day picture today in case I run out of time tomorrow.

Summer, summer, summertime...

...Time to sit back and unwind

Mrs. R: Hey Georgie, your pants are on backwards!

Georgie: No, my pants are not backwards... my BODY is backwards.

Week (so far) in Review

Monday: Stepped on a nail.
Tuesday: Drove from one Home Depot to the next by myself for 9 hours (literally) to (not) find materials for kitchen remodel with all three children.
Wednesday: Received tetanus shot.
Thursday: Spent two hours cleaning up (with my sore arm) after Georgie pooped his pants and tracked it throughout the entire house.
Friday: I'm a little scared to find out what tomorrow brings...

Is it wrong that while sitting on the couch watching a movie, I finished off the half empty bags of jelly beans, malted eggs, and Butterfinger eggs that would not fit into the kids' Easter baskets? It's not that I really WANTED to eat all that candy... Really, I was just trying to do the right thing. I mean, I had to do away with the evidence of wrappers and bags before the kids woke up tomorrow, and it would have been wrong to let it all go to waste. Right??

There was snow on the ground yesterday, but no snow day. The weatherman over-dramatized again. But we had the day off today instead, due to another migraine. The kids were certainly happy to have the day off, and were especially happy to be able to choose and make their own lunches. Georgie decided on a granola bar, a juice box, and a Little Debbie Nutty Bar. Abby played copycat and ate the same. Probably not the healthiest choice for them, but it definitely sped the process of my recovery to be able to stay on the couch with the pillows over my head and pretend not to notice.

Just wishing and hoping...

...and thinking and praying, planning and dreaming for a snow day tomorrow!

When I was your age, television was called books.

I found a copy of The Princess Bride on clearance over the weekend. For the record, it was the best $5 I've ever spent. I'm so bored with the kids' other movies that we've all seen dozens of times. And today, when we were all down for the day with fevers and coughs, a movie with "fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, and miracles" were just what the doctor ordered. TPB kept even Georgie glued to the couch for the full 98 minutes. Miracles? I'll say.

My First Valentine's Day

With February 14th just gone by, the ghost of Valentine's past has been lurking in my head, and I started mulling over my first boyfriend and our first Valentine's Day together. Mike and I were in 8th grade, and officially "dating" for almost 6 weeks. That's practically an engagement at that age.

So, for our first Valentine's Day together (my first Valentine's Day with a boyfriend), there were no reservations at a fancy restaurant, just dinner at his parents' house. His mom made a chicken and Stove-top stuffing with all the fixings. After dinner, Mike and I kicked back in his room where we listened to Pearl Jam's Ten on Mike's stereo, and he showed off some of the art work he had been working on. He was, and remained, quite a talented artist. Actually, part of my gift that year was an amazing drawing he'd created for me.

His bedroom was very artistically designed, as well. He had burlap covered walls on one side of his room, his art was hanging everywhere. He collected and created unique sculptures and displayed them on shelves. His room always smelled of incense. Another hobby of his was to gather large branches, skillfully carving and shaving the bark of these branches to create unique designs in the wood. As a fourteen year old girl with not a creative bone in her body, I was impressed by his artistry.

About halfway through Pearl Jam's debut album, I started feeling the aura of a migraine about to come on. I ignored it, trying to be cool and not look like a complete loser in front of my boyfriend, hoping the feeling would pass. But no matter how much I tried to push the feeling aside, there was no doubt that a fireball migraine was on its way. By the end of the CD, there was no denying my pain. The music seemed louder, the lights were that much brighter. I was almost in tears and asked Mike to turn down the blaring radio. He turned around to walk across the room, and that's when it hit me. A wave of nausea ran through my entire body. There was nothing I could do, nowhere to run. I turned around, frantically searching for a trash can, or anything else to contain what was about to happen, but it was too late. The closest target - his bed. By the time Mike turned around, I don't know if he quite understood what just happened, but there I stood, my hands over my face, and my dinner all over his comforter. Mortified at what just happened, I ran out of his room and down the hall. I slammed the bathroom door behind me and started to cry.

A few minutes passed, as I contemplated how I was going to jump out the second floor window without killing myself. Maybe killing myself wouldn't be so bad, though, since I never wanted to have to face Mike ever again. Before I could crack open the window, there was a knock at the door. It was Mike's mom, who said she had just called my mom to come pick me up, and asked if there was anything she could do. I just wanted to go home. And thankfully, ten minutes later, I did.

The next day, Mike called me on the phone to see how I was feeling. My migraine was gone, but I was still far too embarrassed to talk to him, so my mom relayed the message that I was feeling better and was taking it easy, but was too exhausted to come to the phone.

Mike and I wound up dating for another year and a half, and after that night, I learned that, no matter how much you wish you could melt into the floor, somehow you do not die from extreme mortification. Instead, that night gave Mike and me our own private inside joke.

And how was our next Valentine's Day, you ask? Well, once again we spent the night at his parents' house, where his mom made us dinner. We wound up in the same spot, listening to the radio and playing video games, and no joke, I got another migraine. But, you'll be happy to know that this time, I made it to the bathroom in time.

Mike and I broke up a few months after our second Valentine's Day, but we continued to be friends. And every once in a while when we get the chance to talk, he'll ask me if I'm still allergic to Valentine's Day.

A Pink Nightmare

Over the weekend George and I took Abby and Georgie to see Go, Diego, Go Live! The Great Jaguar Rescue. My review of the show is neither the point of this post, or even important, but let me just say, intermission was, by far, the best part of the 90 minute puppet show. But my kids were happy and entertained without much effort on my part, so I guess that's really all that's important.

Before the show, I stopped at the store to stock up on some treats to hide in my purse, as to avoid paying $10 for one bag of popcorn at the show. I grabbed two coffees for George and myself, and some candy and Strawberry Yoo-hoo for the kids. After drinking my 24 oz. coffee, I was thirsty, so I took a quick swig or two of Abby's drink. It hit me that quick. I instantly became dizzy and nauseous - flashbacks to a college graduation party I attended five years earlier.

The party was at a hall, with mostly family. It had an open bar, stocked with beer, wine and bottom shelf liquor. There were no professional bartenders, just a few retired firemen from the town were running the bar on this particular evening. Since the hall was located in the same town in which I grew up, I knew a few of these firemen well. As the night wore on, I became bored with the generic beer, and the jug wine was leaving an odd, metallic taste in my mouth. One of the impostor bartenders insisted I give his new favorite drink concoction a try. A bit leery, I agreed. He handed me a glass that looked as if it were filled with Pepto Bismal. I inquired as to what I was about to drink. "Strawberry Yoo-hoo and vodka," he replied. I closed my eyes and took a sip. Kind of odd, but not entirely bad. To be polite, I took another sip, and another, until I was on my fourth or tenth drink of this stuff. The high sugar content (and, sure, maybe it had a little to do with the high vodka content) started making me a bit queasy and towards the end of the night I was quite a sight to see. I wound up sick, hiding out in the bathroom stall the remainder of the evening. Fortunately, I don't remember the part where I insisted on telling people, over and over, how much I loved them, or crying into my sleeve about the people who did not love me back. Like I said, I was quite a mess. I still don't understand why he kept pushing those baneful drinks at me. This man was a former fire fighter. Was his job not to help people? He certainly did not help me the next morning, when I couldn't see out of my left eye and my stomach was ineludibly stuck on the spin cycle.

Somehow, to this day, vodka I'm fine with. It's still only Strawberry Yoo-hoo that sends me spinning every time.

Moral of the story: When in doubt, stick to the boring generic beer.

Trying to get the kids to bed early tonight so I can spend some alone time with my Valentine, and this is what I hear:

"Mom!! Georgie put his head in the toilet!"

The long awaited snow day!

It took almost an hour to gather all necessary clothing, and dress them up, but alas, they were ready! Norah was not so thrilled with all the layers.


Georgie wasted no time before he dove right in and started eating the snow from the ground.


Norah immediately turned right around and begged to go back inside. She spent the rest of the afternoon looking out from the inside, watching her big brother and sister frolic in the repulsive white stuff on the ground.


Abby was so happy, she hugged all the trees in the yard. I have no explanation for this.




Later, some friends came to play!


After we spent hours outside, we all came in to drink hot chocolate and eat valentine cakes. To get even warmer, we gathered together in the family room around the fireplace where we watched movies the rest of the afternoon. It was a good day...

For some people, Valentine's Day is the most unsurpassable of days for romance. For others, it's not that big of a deal; it's just another day. I tend to fall into the latter category. Don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those anti-Valentine ralliers. Not at all. I think the attached sentiment is sweet, with its flowers and mushy cards, and I certainly sop up the extra attention my husband dishes out on this particular day, but aren't relationships stressful enough without all the extra pressure to meet the certain, sometimes unreasonable, expectations for one over-the-top fabulous day? Love runs so much deeper than flowers and chocolates. If you love someone, don't rely on the calendar to tell you when to show love and thoughtfulness to your special someone. It's what happens the other 364 days that counts.

Abby's new do.

WARNING: Venting post ahead.

Does anyone remember this post? Or this one? Well, the days of spring-like winter weather here on the east coast have left us for good. And I miss them terribly. It is 16° today. When the wind blows, the temperatures drop into the negatives and my skin cracks and my eyes and lungs burn. How I wish it would snow to make this bitterness seem worthwhile.

Sorry for the temporary blackout. Things have been hectic for me lately. I have been busy job hunting, training the best new puppy ever, adjudicating my own children's seasonal belligerence, and looking after other people's children day and night. The in-house responsibility is weighing down, since I never seem to have a moment to myself.

I'm not complaining, since being busy keeps me from becoming bored, although being bored doesn't sound so bad at this point. A little rest for myself is in order, and I will catch up on my down time soon enough. Before I can do that, I need to start planning Abby's birthday party. This year she wants a sleepover with about eight or so of her girlfriends. I pretty much have everything in order at this point, which is pretty good considering her birthday is still a month away.

Sorry for such a whiny post. I think I'll stop before you all start charging me therapy fees. I can almost promise a better mood tomorrow, it's my one "day off."

I'd like to introduce to you...

...the newest member of our family, Catcher. Yes, I know. He's not the cat that I said I had to have a few posts back, but the lack of space for a litter box was a bit of a setback. So instead, I brought home a four-month-old yellow lab. He's a big clumsy blockhead, but he's also as sweet as could be. Anyone up for a little house-training and puppy chew-proofing?

I've been busy today, cleaning and laundering (clothes, not money). When I finally finished changing the sheets on all six beds (including the top bunk in Abby's room, which should count for at least four beds in itself), I sat myself down to watch a little Dirty Jobs.Oh, how I love that show. Once I had learned more than I needed to know about owl vomit, I proceeded upstairs to complete my own dirty job - cleaning the guinea pig's cage. Armed with bags of hay and wood shavings, I knocked on the door to Abby's room. No one answered. I knocked again, and put my ear to the door. I heard shuffling and hushed commotion.

"What are you guys doing?" I called through the door.

"Uh! Nothing! Be right there!!" Abby and Georgie yelled back.

I slowly opened the door, and I found them both trying desperately to put all of the pillowcases back on their pillows.

"What did you guys do? I just made your beds. Alright, I guess it's really no big deal. Please start putting the pillows back together so I can clean Eliza's cage."

Georgie points to his sister. "Abby did it. You're in VERY big trouble Ab! Mom is MAD at you!"

His brow was all scrunched, and I could see the wheels turning in his little head.

"Do you know how much trouble you're in, Abby? Seventeen! SEVENteen troubles." he finally blurted out.

I did my best to keep a straight face. "Seventeen? Why seventeen?"

"Because seventeen is a very big number," he said. "And Abby... is in very big trouble."

Going cat crazy.

Anyone who knows me, knows I am a cat person. I don't dislike dogs. In fact, we have a dog, Della, who I love to bits, but still, she's no cat. I NEED a cat. When I curl up to read my book, I like a warm, fuzzy, purring companion to keep my lap warm. I've had cats all my life up until about a year ago. That was one lonely year for me. Well, friends, my days of being feline-free are almost over! I have gotten the stamp of approval from the husband to "Go ahead and get your cat," and I am not taking any chances that he will change his mind! So, I'm moving in quick. I found out that there is a man a few miles away who is moving to Ireland and cannot take his 5-year-old, 18 pound cat with him. (No, that is not a typo. She is roughly 18 pounds. Ha!) The man and I have exchanged several emails, and my family and I are headed over to his place on Sunday to meet our (potentially) new cat! (grinning from ear to ear!!)

randomness...

1. NAME? margo

2. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? I don't think so, but I don't quite know.

3. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY? saturday.

4. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? sometimes...

5. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? corned beef.

6. KIDS? 3!

7. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? yes, I would.

8. DO YOU HAVE A JOURNAL? I have a blog... I haven't kept a written journal in quite some time.

9. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? probably too much.

10. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? yes.

11. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? sure, if you pay for it.

12. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? raisin nut bran and fruity pebbles.

13. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? no, and it's how I ruin my sneakers by not untying them to put them back on.

14. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? freakishly.

15. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR? black cherry.

16. SHOE SIZE? 8

17. RED OR PINK? pink

18. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? my forgetfulness.

19. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? the fun and fancy free Margo.

21. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? blue sweats and no shoes.

22. LAST THING YOU ATE? special k (cereal, not the drug ;)

23. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? the news.

24. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? purple.

25. FAVORITE SMELL? laundry (clean, of course).

26. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? natalie

27. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE YOU ARE ATTRACTED TO? eyes.

28. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? yep! she rocks!

29. FAVORITE DRINK? lemonade.

30. FAVORITE SPORT? basketball to play, soccer to watch.

31. EYE COLOR? green.

32. HAT SIZE? I have no idea....?

33. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? no.

34. FAVORITE FOOD? sushi.

35. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDING? scary movies with a happy ending.

36. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED AT THE MOVIE THEATRE? the holiday.

37. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? white shirt with Elmhurst Condors logo (who?)

38. SUMMER OR WINTER? summer

39. HUGS OR KISSES? hugs

40. FAVORITE DESSERT? strawberry shortcake

41. WHAT TIME DID YOU WAKE UP THIS MORNING? 5:30 am

42. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED? a rubbermaid box full of norah's mega blocks

43. WHAT BOOKS ARE YOU READING? the pact

44. WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? I don't use a mouse pad. I have a laptop.

45. WHAT DID YOU WATCH LAST NIGHT ON TV? tsunami, the aftermath

46. FAVORITE SOUNDS? rain and crickets

47. ROLLING STONE OR BEATLES? both

Spring time in winter.

OK, so it's January. Right? Well, get this. My windows are wide open, with a breeze gently blowing in, and my kids are running around outside, jacket-free, in this gorgeous 72° weather. Trust me when I say, I'm not complaining. It's absolutely beautiful, and I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts!

Dear Readers,

Please excuse Margo from blogging today. After being carefully examined, she has been diagnosed with a severe case of denseness with the creativity all clogged up in her head. After ample doses of hot toddies, along with the proper amount of dilatoriness, she should be fully able to resume blogging, without restrictions, in a day or so.

Sincerely,
Dr. Sicknote

Do you hear that? Me neither!

I'm not really here to blog about anything special. I'm actually taking a few seconds out of my evening to brag to you about how quiet my house is tonight. There are no TVs blaring, no children screaming, and there is no husband snoring/humming in his sleep! It's so serene that I almost can't stand the stillness of it all, but do you know what? I'm going to let my mind tussle with the silence, and do something that's usually a foreign concept. Let's see. I could read an entire chapter (possibly two) of my new book without repeating any of the same sentences over and over, and actually process the words I have read. I could even watch a movie straight through, in the actual amount of time in which it was meant to be watched, having full control over the remote for the entire show. A hot soak in the tub would be paradisaical, since tonight I can guarantee that no one will be screaming and banging for me from the other side of the door, and I might actually have enough time to shave, get this, both legs.

What would you do? I can tell you one thing. You would NOT still be sitting here on this computer, wasting the precious solitude of this quiescent house. So I say to you, "Goodnight!"

This is the chaos that laziness will evoke.

It was Abby's first day back to school from her winter break, and I could hardly pull my feckless body out of bed. Well, technically, it was the couch, because that's where I fell asleep last night, but I guess that's not really that important, now is it? Getting ready, it seemed like months since we had run through this fevered early morning routine, but veritably it had been only two weeks. As I moved through the house, I realized my impassive efforts were not getting us to school on time. I still had to pack a lunch, find appropriate clothing for the chilly forecast, dress myself and Abby in these clothes, and then aimlessly try to remember where I had stashed Abby's lunchbox and backpack sometime before Christmas came and disorganized me. And I had all of six minutes to get us into the car if we were going to make it on time. I kept thinking that I was forgetting an important part of our usual morning routine, but I couldn't get my finger on what it could be. OH MY GOD! BREAKFAST!!! #@&%! Well, after that realization, I felt defeated. I contemplated skipping the day altogether, and instead spend it huddled in my bed, but the glower I received from my kindergartner, who has been athirst for days to see her school friends again, sent me right back into my sprint to get us to school before the bells clamored in disapproval of my do-nothingness. Needless to say, after a shot of caffeine and adrenaline, we made it to school. And, somehow, on time. My point of this seemingly pointless rambling? I have a new resolution - plug in and dust off my alarm clock. I might even try using it every once in a while. I think I'm back to bed, or I guess technically the couch. This morning was way more excitement than I can handle in just one day.

Finding, and keeping, the resolution willpower.

Turn out the lights,
The party's over.
They say that all good things must end.
Call it a night,
The party's over,
And tomorrow starts the same old thing again.

Happy New Year to all. It seems that everyone is creating their usual new years resolutions list, and I am no exception. But resolutions are made to be broken, and I'm tired of setting myself up for failure. I could bore myself, yet again, with how many pounds I resolve to lose, the closets I plan to organize, or the extra time I would like to put aside for family and friends, but it would be a bit cliche for me to claim these asseverations once again. I need something a bit fresher and more updated this year, so I have come up with a few feasible ideas and jotted them down:

1. Go back to school. A very important, and workable one. My goal is to be enrolled by the spring semester.

2. Volunteer my time one night a week to a shorthanded charity organization. Something that would bring myself a little self-satisfaction at the end of the day. Maybe a nursing home, or the children's hospital.

3. Go to more shows. Theater, ballet, movies, concerts, etc...

4. Take an interest in creative photography. Not just endlessly snapping photos of my children. I'd like to try still life and maybe some candid shots of unsuspecting strangers...

So these are my resolutions for 2007. Check back in February to see if I've kept or broken them.

The day after.

After the many weeks spent carefully maneuvering through the stores, chockablock with overwrought shoppers; the days of meticulously wrapping dozens of asymmetrical boxes; and the hours of cleaning, organizing and decorating, Christmas came and went in, well... a day.

At about 7:15 on Christmas morning, I heard four little feet come bounding down the stairs, letting out squeals of excitement when Santa's stopover was confirmed by the many packages under the tree. The kids headed for their stockings hanging from the mantel, making sure Santa remembered to fill them with candies and other goodies, then quickly returned to the tree to check out the tags on the boxes, trying to sort out whose present were whose. Next came the forethought of waking George and me, who felt as if we had just closed our eyes only moments ago. I could hear them whispering from the other room:

Abby: Ok, first we have to tiptoe into Mom and Dad's room. And then... HEY! LOOK GEORGIE! THIS ONE'S MINE!!! SEE IT HAS MY NAME ON IT, AND IT'S THE BIGGEST ONE!

Georgie: Yeah, Ab. I see... HEY! THIS ONE SAYS NORAH! WOW! I CAN READ THAT, SEE?!

A: Ok, alright. So when we get to their room, you wake Dad... No. Wait. I'll wake Dad, and you wake Mom, Ok?

G: Ok!

A: Remember. Tiptoe! And you wake Mommy! Ok?

G: Ok, Ab.

A: SHHHHH!

G: O-kay AB!!

(I don't know why she insisted on tiptoeing. Wasn't the point of coming in to wake us?)

After being pounced on repeatedly, I did my best to hold back the wired masses for 30 tortuous minutes, until pulling a groggy Norah out of her crib. And then the ravenous attack on the presents began!

***************
When every last gift was opened and admired, Abby said, "I got everything I wanted in my WHOLE life!" (Whew!)

Georgie was too busy playing with Norah's new toys to care about his shiny new playthings - which worked out well, because...

Norah, the 18 month old baby, kept throwing all of her toys back into the bags. She had no interest in her new puzzles, books, dolls, or other extravagant toys. Instead, she spent the morning clutching her new shirts and dresses. She tried on her new shoes, and admired her new embellished jeans. She ripped open the packs of socks and onsies, and tried on the new clips for her hair. I think Santa may need to rethink (and re-budget) his gifts for next year for this little fashion diva.

Today, I am spending my day collecting shreds of crumpled paper, cursing wire twist ties, and sorting micro-sized pieces and parts from god-knows what toy sets. As I work, I hear my children hard at play - figuring out their new games, breaking in new dolls and action figures, and laughing at each other while garbed in their new dress-up clothes! It is a reward to know that what I have been working for the last few tiresome weeks, has finally paid off tremendously. We should do this again. Maybe this time next year?

Merry Christmas, friends!

Abby's school held their annual Christmas pageant on Wednesday, and there was one song that was rather touching. After the show, and referring to this particular song, Abby asked me, "Hey Mom! Did you cry your eyes out when we sang that slow song?" I guess the teachers were going for this effect, and explained to the kids their motive. So when she asked, I had to laugh sentimentally, and of course tell her that I did cry my eyes out.

"In fact," I said to her, "There wasn't a dry eye in the house." I knew this was especially true for George, who did actually get a bit choked up during the performance.

She was quite pleased with herself, and with the rest of her class. They worked really hard on their show for weeks, and in the end, their efforts and many practices paid off. The show was a hit!

The pageant at school got my spirit jumping, and now the excitement of the next few days is staring to creep up on me. I figure by tonight, when the tree is finally standing and decorated, I will be acting like a 9 year old again, as I tend to regress every year at this time. The kids, of course, couldn't be more charged, and are getting a tad impatient with the wait.

I keep reminding them, "Only two (and a half) more days until Christmas. It really is almost here!" I remember the anticipation, and when I think back to the years when I was an exuberant child - tearing frantically into my gifts on that one magical morning of the year, hoping and praying for the perfect toy. The feelings of jubliance come right back again when I watch my own children's faces light up with curiosity and wonder to see the many packages under the tree, these packages that were absent when they headed up to bed the night before. I relate to their utter elation when they realize that Santa has visited their home to grant their every wish.

Since becoming a mother, Christmas has taken on a whole new meaning for me. It's not about life on the receiving end anymore; the meaning has, by far, surpassed that. It's more rewarding than I could ever imagined, to give these memories to my children and live these precious moments with them.

The holidays always add warmth during the coldest winter days. May you have everything and everyone you need to make this year the warmest Christmas and happiest New Year, and I hope this holiday season brings you health, happiness and great memories to cherish.

Merry Christmas!

A little less likely to panic.

So with only three more days, I have gotten a few things checked off my last-minute list.

1. Buy gifts for a "few" more people.
My naughty or nice list is checked off, finally. All gifts bought and tagged.

2. Find a Christmas tree.
My Christmas tree has been found. It is across the street in my in-laws' attic. (We are borrowing their artificial tree, since they are not using it this year.)

3. Stand and decorate this aforementioned tree we are still lacking.
Well, the tree is not standing, and is obviously not decorated, but I have located the decorations for the tree in the garage, and they are ready to be displayed. You would know, that in itself is an accomplishment, if you have ever seen my garage!

4. Wrap EVERY gift.
Every last one of gifts still needs to be wrapped. All 197 of them.

5. Oh, that reminds me. Buy wrapping paper, since I have none.
But atleast I now have wrapping paper.

6. Buy Christmas dresses for the girls.
I found an adorable dress for Norah. Still nothing for Abby. Maybe Georgie will open something appropriate on Christmas morning from his grandparents to change into, since I seem to have excluded him entirely from my wardrobe concerns.

7. Send Christmas cards. I think it will be a modest - not so modish - email greeting this year.
The holiday greetings have been emailed.


All in all, I'm in pretty good shape. I can totally do this!

Panicked? Nah, not yet anyway.

Christmas is upon me, and you too I suppose. Only 4 more days. Am I ready? Let's see. Off the top of my head, I still have to:

1. Buy gifts for a "few" more people. (That may be a little under-exaggerated.)

2. Find a Christmas tree.

3. Stand and decorate this aforementioned tree we are still lacking.

4. Wrap EVERY gift.

5. Oh, that reminds me. Buy wrapping paper, since I have none.

6. Buy Christmas dresses for the girls. (I think they may be celebrating the day "dress-casual.")

7. Send Christmas cards. I think it will be a modest - not so modish - email greeting this year.

Can I do it in 4 days? Hey, I'm early this year. I don't usually start my shopping until Christmas Eve, so I am way ahead of the game.

Good Vibrations

Last night George and I went out together, ahem, ALONE for the first time in months! Our evening started with a dynamic performance by The Beach Boys. The night was a pre-anniversary celebration, (though the tickets were actually George's birthday present from the kids and me). The show was amazing and we had so much fun, fun, fun! (I know. That was corny.) For close to two hours, we danced around and sang along to the chart-toppers of yesteryear like two caffeinated whirling dervishes. Our perfect end to a perfect evening included an abundance of amazing conversation and sushi at a local Japanese restaurant.

It was refreshing to reconnect, and once Christmas comes and goes, I hope we continue to treat ourselves more to this quality time together.

There's Something About Mary Norah

Merry Christmas, mischief makers.

I used up an entire day's worth of sunlight last week climbing ladders, banging nails and cursing out tangled strings of icicle lights. But, when the last of the lights were hung, I was quite proud to show off my work, even to passing strangers. After all, it was my first time hanging Christmas lights outside, and I think I did a rather fine job. In addition to the lights on the house, I also bought and assembled a 3-foot Animated Skiing Polar Bear. Every night the kids and I would get a kick out of him "cross country skiing" on the front lawn. Apparantly some other hooligans got a kick out of him too - when they kicked him apart all over my yard. He was in quite a few dented up pieces this morning and his lights were not in working order, but with the help of my FIL, he is, again, standing proud - even if he is still a bit lop-sided. This is just the thing to get me in the Christmas spirit. Just. The. Thing.

Stress

1. How do you deal with stress? When I'm stressed I become an insomniac and usually a little snappy.
2. Do you have a favorite "comfort food" and what is it? Buttered white toast w/ cinnamon and lots of sugar.
3. Do you have a "comfort activity" and what is it? I like to take a hot shower and then curl up in bed w/ my favorite book or movie and my cinnamon toast.
4. What days depress you and why? Any day when more of me is expected than I can handle.
5. What days excite you and why? Easy, fun & relaxing days alone with the kids.

The tooth fairy is coming tonight!

My baby lost her first tooth today during her sleepover at Grandma's house! I haven't seen it for myself yet, but here's the picture they sent me! Her new saccharine smile makes me gushy and proud!

I'm not very much in the spirit.

How am I supposed to get in the mood to decorate for Christmas when Mother Nature has misplaced her seasons schedule? We have completely skipped over Winter, and have gone straight to Spring. I'm not really complaining because I certainly enjoy these beautiful days in the yard. I'm just saying - it's not beginning to look (or feel) a lot like Christmas at all.

Edited to add: Yes, I understand the consequences of such a wish. I know I will regret this wretched hex I have just put upon myself and the good people in my part of the country. When the temperatures drop below freezing and the snow has fallen up to our necks, I will mourn for this day.

My proud hunter.

Apparently we will be mounting the head of this poor creature in our home once it has been properly preserved. Because my husband must feel that nothing is more comforting than lounging around on a Sunday morning being stared at by the glassy, lifeless eyes of a deer carcass.

Into the garbage chute, flyboy.

Well, today the kids and I were so productive. We each claimed our spot in the family room and played LEGO Star Wars II: The Original Trilogy on our new Xbox. Once we succeeded in each developing carpal tunnel syndrome, we put down the controllers and, continuing with our theme, watched the Original Star Wars Trilogy on DVD. It was true bliss.

Frozen pits of hell.

So this morning... my deodorant was nowhere to be found. I dug through the closet in the bathroom, desperately hoping that I had a spare tube somewhere. I did not find exactly what I was looking for, but I found deodorant nonetheless. The aerosol spray kind. I hesitated. Lifted the first arm. Cringed. Sprayed. And screamed! I think this type of torture was invented by the Nazis. It was like applying liquid nitrogen directly to my pits. Anyone who sees me today should thank me. I sprayed my second arm, solely for the innocent bystanders that I may come in close contact with today.

You're welcome.

The Silver Screen

1. What is your favorite movie? Most recent movie I watched and loved - The Station Agent 2. What is the worst movie you have ever watched? Home on the Range 3. What was the last movie you saw in the theatre? Friends With Money 4. Sugared or salted popcorn? Or maybe butter? Extra butter & salt. I love Smartfood too. And as far as sweet, I make batches of caramel corn that you would lust over. 5. Movie theatre or DVD? Theatre

I am officially broke, but my sanity was worth every penny!

Ahhhhhhhhh! (That was a sigh of relief and contentment.) I just got home from my night out - which I needed so much more than I realized. The past two weeks have been extremely stressful. I was actually going to cancel tonight due to the massive headache I was fighting all day, but I drugged myself (with Imitrex. Relax!). I rode it out, and wound up feeling 120% better in every sense - mentally, physically and emotionally. This entry is here to remind myself that the next time I want to bail on my plans because I'm not feeling high-spirited and social, I need to get my ass out the door anyway to eat, drink and be merry until I can't take it anymore!! When I came home, I really missed the kids, so I peeked in on them all just to watch them sleep. With Abby, it is almost always the same: I pulled her covers back over her, and swept the hair from her face. She woke for less than a moment, just long enough to smile sleepily at me and tell me that she missed me. "I'm happy you're home," she said in a dozy voice before rolling over and snuggling back into her pillow. She sighed contentedly, and instantly returned to a light snore. I kissed her on her cheek, and whispered that I was happy to be home with her too. I didn't have to go very far to check on Georgie; he was asleep in Abby's room, in the bottom bunk. As usual he had flipped himself upside down in the bed - his feet on the pillow, and his head on the blankets at the foot of the bed that he had kicked and churned into a tangled mess. He didn't stir when I turned him around, careful not to bang both of our heads on the bunk above. I straightened his blankets, pulling them back over his shoulders. When I tucked his Spiderman figure back into his palm, I kissed his forehead, cool and damp with sweat, and I smiled to myself at how fond he is of his Spidey, and how he was probably dreaming of climbing walls, shooting webs, and defeating the bad guys as he slumbered, just like his favorite superhero. When I looked in on Norah, I was surprised to see that she was still awake in her crib, and I was excited to pull her out and play with her a while. We stacked a few blocks and played a few songs on her piano, but when she started to rub her eyes and look drowsy, I changed her and made her some warm milk. I laid her in my bed and talked quietly with her while she drank her bottle and daintily patted my face with her pudgy little hands. After a while, I started to feel a little sleepy myself, so I placed her back in her own bed. I couldn't help but laugh when she wildly waved "bye-bye" to me with an immense grin on her face as I was closing her door. I missed them all so much while I was out tonight, but I think I need to miss my kids every now and then to fully appreciate them and recharge. I am more than ready to start fresh in the morning with my newly recharged batteries.

Parents: shave your heads!

I have had a touch of blogger's block lately. Is it because my life has become dull? No, that's definitely not the case. Could it be that I have not had any time for the computer? Actually, no. I have logged in at least twice a day and stared at the blank entry form only to find that, still, nothing will come through from my brain to my fingertips.

But today, my friends, you are in luck; I will treat you all to a tale called The Strangled Toe

Friday morning I was prepping Norah for her bath. As I was inspecting her nails for length, I came across a very swollen and red middle toe on her right foot. When I looked closer, I saw that it was sliced completely open so that when she curled her toes, this particular toe would split apart, whereas the top of the digit would appear to be totally separated from the bottom. I called Dr. Bob right away, and he told us to come in at 11 o'clock for an appointment.

After carefully examining her wound, he gave it a name: hair tourniquet syndrome. I had never heard of such a thing before and was amazed and nauseous at the same time. He spread the two sections of her toe apart, searching for whatever had cut off her circulation, but whatever it was had either worked it's way out, dissolved, or was still in there, but not visible. He said I needed to keep close watch on the color of her toe. If it turned blue or purple, she needed to be rushed to the ER immediately to prevent autoamputation. Eek!! And here's where it gets gross: if the swelling does not go down by tomorrow, I am to apply Nair® into the wound to dissolve the thread or hair that was causing the lack of blood flow. Okay, so has anyone ever used Nair®? Have you ever felt the burning sensation from the product on healthy skin? The directions on the bottle clearly read: "DO NOT USE ON IRRITATED, SUNBURNED, INFLAMED, OR BROKEN SKIN." Exactly. So keep your fingers and toes crossed that the swelling goes down, or else I will be swabbing depilatories into her perferated toe in the morning. (*shudder*) I guess it's better than amputation, which is our only other option at that point.

So please, as a public service message to all parents: shave your heads, and dispose of all hair immdeiately!!!

A Full Moon in the Morning.

I was cleaning the house this morning, my regular Saturday routine, and the kids were in the living room 'taking pictures' with Georgie's View-Master®. Every now and then, they would command me to turn around and say "Cheese!" They'd snap my 'picture,' look into the camera to see if the shot 'came out okay,' and run away to take more photos. I smiled as I wiped down the countertops, listening to them giggle because, I thought at least, that they were enjoying taking pictures of each other's silly grins with their new camera. Well, I was half right. They were indeed hysterical over the photos that they were each posing for, but it was not silly faces they found amusing. Georgie was the acting photographer, and Abby was the stand-in model. Apparently she is working on her future career as a butt-double for movies, because when I went in the living room to check on them, there was Georgie yelling, "Say cheese!" and Abby was turned around, pulling down her underwear so that her brother could capture her full moon on film.

Needless to say, I am extremely proud.

Bad Mother, You Say?

We're skipping school again today. Eesh. "Bad mother," some would say. "Lazy" would be the word many others might choose. Irresponsible, even. But I don't care. I'm enjoying what little time I have left with my daughter before she starts kindergarten next year. Then she will be in school all day, every day, for thirteen years. And then college. And then she will be gone, moved away to live her own life, but I will have precious memories from days like this, when we "played hooky" for no other reason but to enjoy the beautiful day outside together. So call me whatever you'd like, but I tend to think of myself as a great mother. One who realizes the importance of an education, but who also sees the crucial need to slow down and enjoy the simple moments with my children before they are children no longer.

It's amazing outside; I hope you all can get out and enjoy it too!

Friday

It's gorgeous outside today. I think I'll clean up the house a bit and then take the kids outside to blow off steam. I am starting something new today... The Friday Five (this one's old, I know, but they haven't posted a new one this week yet):

1. Do you wear perfume or cologne? Yes. My favorite is Lovely by SJ Parker
   
   
2. What brand or kind of soap do you use? Dove
   
   
3. Do you use anything to scent your home (candles, potpourri, scented oils, etc.)? All of the above. I love cinnamon (or any spicy) scented fragrance.
   
   
4. What's your favorite scent on a member of the gender to which you're attracted? No scent in particular. I love a man fresh out of the shower; all of the products he has just used blend together into one very clean scent.
   
   
5. Have you ever tried aromatherapy? If so, describe your experience; if not, do you think it works? I've used aromatherapy bath salts and candles... I guess they work. When I am in the bath, the whole experience works together to relax me, so I'm not sure if I can give credit soley to the scents.

Waypost

I found Norah crying in her crib tonight because she pulled herself up and couldn't figure out how to sit back down. Oh man, we are in for it now!

Does Anyone Know What Time It Is?

I am here to inform you that I am still awake; Georgie is too. He took a six hour nap today, so it is with good reason that he should not be tired. I, however, cannot rationalize my own indisposition to sleep. Does anyone remember when staying up this late was the objective for the night? When there was chemical stimulation to make the goal worthwhile? When sleep was..... um........ oh, for chuff's sake!! I can't remember where the hell I was going with this. I accept that I have begun to rattle on, and so here concludes my quick and scintillating tale of how I am spending my Saturday night (or Sunday morning I guess, technically). Here's to dreaming of far off places.

I've been voted 'Most Unproductive Wife'

Today has turned out to be another one of "those days." Again. The kind of day that has drowned away any feelings of motivation, and my last reserves of patience have been cleaned out. The house is a disgrace, laundry is piled up to my neck, and so far I have wasted the day staring at the wall. So here I sit, posting a fruitless blog. I have nothing to say; my wit has forsaken me. I think I'll stop here and rent a movie, but first I will leave you with this:

Finding drunks in a bar -- what are the chances?

Spiderman-iac

I took Abby to Kyle's birthday party tonight. When the movie ended, the last of the pizza and cake had been eaten, and the games had all been played, Abby and I made our way back to the car, party bags in hand, where I noticed that I had three missed calls from home on my cell. (I had kept the phone in the car to charge, since the battery was beyond dead.) A small wave of panic washed over me since George doesn't usually ring my cell when I'm out unless it's pretty important. I returned George's call on the way home and learned that Georgie had come down with a fever and had not eaten anything all night. In fact, he had stayed curled up in my bed most of the time Abby and I had been gone, which is rare for him especially since his Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop were over for a visit. When Abby and I walked in the door, I pulled Georgie onto my lap, and sure enough, he was hot as hell from head to toe. As Abby told him all about the party, his head hung towards the floor. I figured he must have felt pretty bad, so I coaxed him into chewing a Motrin to bring the fever down quickly. After he reluctantly swallowed his medicine, I asked him about his night, but he would not speak a word to me, or anyone else, and continued to stare down at his feet. I asked George if he had been this quiet all night, but he said, "No, actually. He was crying about a Spiderman car for the first hour or so after you left. He cried so much, I wonder if that's what made him sick."

"Spiderman car?" I asked. "What Spiderman car, Georgie?"

"Tile." Georgie responded miserably, but finally with a little interest in conversing.

"Tile? What are you talking about - tile?"

"Tiii-ile! Ti-ile!" he whined, and so I continued asking him insane questions about floor tiles and game tiles until I figured out that he was not, in fact, referring to tiles after all. He was talking about Kyle (clearly pronounced "tile" in two-year old dialect) and the Spiderman car that Abby had bought for the party.

"You want the Spiderman car that Abby bought for Kyle?" I asked him.

"Yes," he said. "Tile's bider-man tar. Not Tile's. Mine. My bider-man."

I should have foreseen this "spidey-envy" when we were at the toy store buying Spiderman toys. I should have realized that I could never get away with bringing a Spiderman product into our house and then back out again for any reason. Who was I kidding? I have the boy who does not waste time pretending to be Spiderman, but instead has convinced himself, and truly does believe, that he is in fact the superhero himself. I reassured Georgie that first thing in the morning, I would take him to the store to buy him his very own Spiderman car. The instant this promise was made to him, his temperature instantly plummeted back to 98.6°, his mood elevated significantly, and he has been happily coloring at the table (in his Spiderman coloring book, wearing his Spiderman pajamas) with his sister for over an hour, chattering away the entire time (about, who else, Spiderman).

I've been sitting and thinking about what new illness Georgie may be coming down with, but then I started to wonder: is Georgie really falling ill with the flu, or could it be that he is literally sick without Spiderman? And was it really the Motrin that brought down his fever so rapidly, or was it the promise of a new "bider-man tar" that healed him?

I think that we are, without a doubt, dealing with a Spidermaniac.

Feelin' irie

We are leaving in the morning for the cruise! Good luck weathering the cold... and just remember that while you all are bundling up in your winter best, I will be cruising the Caribbean, lounging by the pool in the hot sun, drinking rum runners while exotic and topless Caribbean gentlemen are fanning me, rubbing my feet and feeding me strawberries!! Ha!

Send me any bon voyage messages by tonight, otherwise, I will "see" you all in a week!

Finals... ugh

Studying for my sociology final has me exausted. I think I'm done for the night. George and I went to see our three houses yesterday (with Abby and Georgie, since we couldn't find a babysitter) and I found my dream house!! George said if he talks to ketler tomorrow, and all goes well with the conversation, then he will call and put an offer in on the house!!!!! I hope so, because I really love it. I'll let you know how my final goes tomorrow, if I'm not too busy studying for my English final for Tuesday!

Busiest time of the year.

It was George and my anniversary yesterday. We spent last night looking at a house and afterwards we headed over to Denise's for Sean's birthday. George is at his company party tonight, and tomorrow we might go out for dinner - as long as Denise and Annie are still volunteering to watch the kids! My mom gave us a gift certificate for Villa Barone, so we may eat there for a post-anniversary celebration. George will not be home on Friday - he has another Xmas party, and Saturday we are looking at more houses! Possibly on Sunday, George is going to help Gary move some of his stuff into his new house. Busy, busy. I have to squeeze in studying and shopping somewhere too. My finals are coming up in a few days, and I have not even opened my notes yet! I am only done the kids shopping, and I still have to finish everyone else on my list. I will be happy when Christmas is over, and I can just sit back and relax for a day or two before I start getting this house ready to sell, and some of our stuff organized to move!

George loved the house we looked at yesterday, and I really liked it too... It's in our price range, and we loved the family room: it's 24' x 24'!! It's a huge room. We're going to look at a couple more houses, and we'll decide from there. Tune in again for more updates!!

Raise Your Voice

I went out tonight with Nat. We went to the Olive Garden to eat soup, salad & calamari, and we then headed to the movies. By the time we got there, it was 9:30. We wound up seeing "Raise Your Voice," which, by the previews, looked a little corny, but Natalie and I can make any movie Oscar worty by our terms - especially when we are the only two in the theater. We laughed from the previews all the way through to final credits, and the movie wasn't all that funny, nor was it supposed to be. But, all-in-all it wound up being a pretty cute movie. I just got home and settled in, and I'm about ready for a long nap. Talk to you manana. Nighty-nite!

The Croup, Part II

I had just fallen asleep about 11:00 tonight, when I was awoken by a seal-like barking sound coming from the kids room. I then heard Georgie start to cry. I knew right away, from my experience last year with Abby and the very distinctive cough, that it was croup. When I opened the door to his room, I saw that Georgie was sitting up in bed, but not fully awake. I tried to keep the room dark, and stay quiet myself, in hopes that he would easily fall back to sleep. I sat on the side of his bed and he crawled across to me, resting his head in my lap. We sat like this for a few minutes and I sang to him. And as I stroked his face and ran my fingers through his hair, I savored this quiet moment, when he wanted nothing but to be in my arms. I cherish the dewy-eyed moments with my children when they regress just for a moment, long enough for me to cradle them and reconnect to the days when they were dawning infants. Eventually, he looked up at me and let out a contented sigh, crawled back to his pillow and closed his eyes. I waited until I was sure he was asleep, walked very quietly back to my own room, to my own bed, where I now sit knowing I will hardly sleep tonight, worrying and listening for my little boy.

The return of the migraine.

Well, I was too cocky, too confident that my migraines were a thing of the painful past, but they made an unwelcomed return last night. Possibly, there is an explanation: It started when dainty little Norah pooped so much that it escaped from her diaper. It made it's way up her back, and somehow all the way into her hair?! While cleaning disaster number one, little did I know, my remaining two children were downstairs creating a second disaster. Seventeen juice boxes were opened and squeezeed all over our very expensive area rug downstairs. Calculated correctly, that comes to over 120 ounces of various juice flavors clinging tightly to those little strands of wool. I spent over two hours trying to soak up the mess myself, but to no avail... the cleaners are on their way, and will be charging me quite a fee to "attempt" to remove the stains. One-hundred-and-eleven dollars. Should I repeat that? One-hundred-and-eleven dollars!! That's more than one-dollar per ounce to have the juice cleaned out of the carpet. If the cleaners' attempt fails to get out the stain, I can only hope their attempt to charge my credit card fails as well.

Anyway, last night, after the adrenaline from the joy of having children wore off, I wound up with the worst migraine I have had since before two-year-old Georgie was born. Thank God Norah is sleeping through the night, or she would have been introduced to her very first bottle of Similac. I can't imagine why last night was chosen for the grand reminder of what it's like to have an Acme anvil come down and crack apart my tired skull, but I can only hope, and I do pray, that any future visits (if there must be any) from the Mighty Migraine are few and very far between!

Norah!!

Having a third baby has not changed life as drastically as I thought! I'm sure it has a lot to do with just how good Norah is, as far as babies go. She is still sleeping thru the night. (Which I am terrified will become jinxed, and she will once again behave like any other seven week old, and wake every two hours all night long!!) She is fairly quiet during the day unless she is hungry or her diaper needs to be changed. Her one downfall, like all babies, she likes alot of attention. It can be a little stressful at times, but never fear- I have two very anxious children who are just waiting to play with her and hold her all day! Abby and Georgie both love her to bits, and I don't blame them. She is a cutie!!

It's time, once again, to feed three hungry bellies!

Happy Fourth of July! Hooray!! I love fireworks!!

My baby boy is two

Happy birthday my baby boy. You're two years old today. I kissed your sweet face tonight while you slept and thought back on these past two years. Seeing everything through your eyes has changed my world forever. How could I have ever known that one day "messy" and "loud" would be the two best words to describe my most treasured moments? How could I have imagined that the birth of my son would open my heart and mind, and fill me with such simple joys? I thank God every day for the silly hopeful grin that never seems to leave your face, and for the endless supply of hugs that bring me so much comfort when I am down-hearted and weary. And for your eyes. How could I forget those beautiful eyes that will eternally tug at my heartstrings. No matter how bad the tantrum, or however big the mess, a simple bat of those long black lashes, and the slate is wiped clean. Tonight you are nestled beside me, and as I listen to your every breath, I think about how you're changing, how you're growing up so fast, and for that, I never want to leave this moment.

3 Pounds?? What?!?!

It was Norah's one month check-up today. I asked her doc if it was ok that she's been sleeping through the night (and I mean a solid eight hours). He asked how much she weighed the day she went home from the hospital. I told him just over six pounds. He said, "Let's weigh her and see how well she's gained."

The scale put her at nine pounds!! She gained three pounds in a month??? I have come to the very obvious conclusion that my breasts are definitely not producing skim, or any other low-fat variety of milk for this baby. He told me, not only could she sleep through the night if she wanted to, but she could sleep straight through the next two days, and she would be fine. She's halfway to doubling her birth-weight already! "Weigh" to go Norah!!

All night already?

She slept through the night. Is that ok?? She seems so tiny and so young to be sleeping 8 hours already... not that I'm complaining a bit!

Baby #3 is a girl!

It's a girl!! (Abby is relieved!) And Norah is her name-o. She was born on Tuesday morning after only 5 minutes of pushing... 6 pounds 5.8 ounces of dimples and soft, warm skin.

This is Norah on day one: