Dear Lisa......

"Here are some candy recipes I made this Christmas. I hope you enjoy and can read them.

I usually chop the nuts and wrap individual pieces and store in (sic) cool place.

We are doing pretty good, you might say we are getting by.

The weather has been very cold. We have had some snow (sic) expecting more.

Talked to your mother last Sunday (sic) always enjoy our visits by phone.

We miss our loved ones.

We love you.

Grandma"

I rediscovered this note in a dainty spidery hand dated 2/14/05 (yes 2/14, St. Valentine's Day) tucked behind handwritten recipes in my personal recipe collection from my "GG", my Grandmother Galeski for her Pralines, Divinity and Fudge that she made EVERY Christmas. Treats that I dreamed of and lusted after for an entire year.

"Visions of sugarplums"

I had written her and begged her to send me these treasures in her own hand.

And she did. She would live three more years. My grandfather, just one more.

I have these treasures to share and this Christmas they will find their way into the hearts and homes of my family and friends packaged in beautiful little bags, beribboned with a tag reading "From GG, With Love"


side note

My oldest has always called my mother "GiGi"

I don't know why I didn't notice it until tonight....but my Grandmother Galeski's initials are "GG"

Fate? Coincidence?

Who knows. All I know for sure is that in my mind, I was 8 again, curled under her arm, trading confidences and nibbling on sweets.

I miss my GG

Random Nothingness

I will be sad, so sad when Colts football is over for the season for the boys and I don't have

3 hours of P & Q every Tuesday & Thursday
No more Friday night lights
No more tailgating


My mom and dad arrive for a long week-end on Thursday for BamBam's 10th birthday. We're headed to the cabin Saturday morning for golf, foliage and drinking of wine and eating of cheese (adults... not boys, well they'll be eating the cheese and playing the golf...but nevah mind you get it)

My MIL has loaned me "indefinitely" her 300 lens since it is no longer compatible with her digital. Woot! I might actually get some decent shots from the games this Friday! Now if I could just borrow Wendy's eye for a couple of hours.

I have a small block of sage derby cheese calling to me from the fridge for dinner.

I need to "color enahnce" my hair this week

Do you think my parents need fresh sheets for their beds?

Jake the wonder dog is extremely "frisky" this week...Must be the change in weather.

That's my random nothingness for the week. How about ya'll???

The Universe really does have a sense of humor

I confess.

Ever since I saw the movie "Oh God" with the dearly departed John Denver and George Burns, (when I was no more than a wee mite, yay high to a grasshopper), I have developed, cherished, nurtured and protected a very skewed and decidedly non traditional belief system about the universe and the power(s) that created it.

My belief system got a big ROFLMAO epiphany today when BamBam brought home, at my request, his "Everyday Math" textbook.

To really appreciate the irony of this request you have to understand that I, during the course of my "formal" education, could in no way be classified as a math geek.

Language geek....YES! My mother taught English and Literature at my junior and then followed me to high school.

I do love me some puhrty words!!! And conjugation....swoon!

Heh...typing that is just...FUN! My mother would laugh, roll her eyes and then correct me, in that EXACT order.

Anyway, moving back to the topic at hand.

I SUCKED royally at anything remotely related to math. My mother attributes it to a colleague at said high school who thought it was a GRAND idea to do all of her lesson plans on an overhead..............after lunch.

Hello??? Knock, knock...anyone home? Full tummy...dark room....SIESTA!!! Seriously, a full two-thirds of the class was asleep 10 minutes into the "lesson".

Which brings me back to my point. I do have one. Really I do. Just stick with me. It's good. Really. No really. I'm just channeling my inner Wendy/Joshilyn free associative thought process.
Are you having fun? I'm having fun!

So the big cosmic irony in it all is that, to help my son learn algebra/geometry/exponents/partial sum equations...blah...blah...blah....I must actually, finally, really.....

learn it myself!!!!!


Hahahahahahhahahahhahahaahaaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaa


I'm telling you...the universe is one freakin hilarious he/she/whose name must not be spoken stand up comedian of the first order.


That is all. It is now time for me to go read the textbook cover to cover.

Stop laughing. I hear you laughing. ALRIGHT...GO! Go ahead and laugh.

I'm there with you.

Break on through to the other side

Motherhood. To borrow from a Tale of Two Cities "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times"

I think back to the days when I:

...was absolutely positive that I would not LIVE another single second if I didn't get more than two hours of uninterrupted sleep. But I did.

...couldn't wait for them to eat with a spoon, tie their own shoes, bathe themselves, go to school all day. And then they did.

And now I see:

An 8 and 10 year old, who do their homework with practically no assistance from me, make their beds, help with chores, set out their own clothes, remind ME of things they need for school.

Why so nostalgic today? Because today...my oldest brought home a 98 on a unit math test. All I did the week before, was ask his teacher to send home some extra skill sheets for him to use. He did the rest himself.

I can't tell you how HUGE this is for him...and for me and for the family. Last year, passing was all we could hope for him. A 98 was just this impossibly far star in a constellation that we could barely see for him. BamBam was diagnosed with ADD last spring, a diagnosis that we fought and fought and fought....for YEARS.

Until we couldn't fight anymore. And all my love and extra time couldn't help. And the disproportional time we were spending with him began to negatively impacting Thumper.

But now? Now he can stand on his own and do the work and claim the pride in that work. ALL on his own. His self esteem? The light has come back to his eyes.

Last spring we had the diagnosis and the meds, but we had the baggage of the first of the year and the years before.

This is a new year.

It is FINALLY his time to shine.

Shine on my star...shine on.

Side note: If you suspect your child or MORE importantly your child's teacher suspects they have ADD? Don't wait. Get them tested. And for those who don't think there is such a thing as ADD?Neither did my DH. He was the world's most vocal critic of the suggestion and then the testing and the whole stigma. And please don't get me started about the meds. You would have thought Concerta was the AntiChrist in his book. But 7 months later...let's just say time has a way of bringing things to light.

First Promise

................of FALL!

It's been raining all day yesterday and all day today and the thermometer on the outside of my deck reads 60 degrees at 4pm....in Georgia for rying out loud!

So we have thrown open every single window and storm window that has been fastened against the infamous and pervasive summer heat and humidity of the Deep South, turned on the attic fan and are luxuriating in the cool moist breezes pouring through our house.

I do love a good rain.

Helping Hands

Today on the 5th anniversary of 9-11, at 8:40 AM, I pressed send calls on my phone at work so it went straight to voice mail, no ring. I kept it on for 20 minutes. No one called. (I checked aftwerwards of course) And I used the time to think, reflect, pray and give thanks.

My boys, however, they did something much more tangible. It may have no impact on future lives. It may have an impact on their lives down the road. Or both. I may know in time or never know.

It doesn't really matter.

Today, their entire school participated in it's first community service day, as one body.

Wearing special T-shirts emblazoned with a logo of hands spanning the earth and holding a heart and the motto "Helping Hands Day" they climbed aboard extra buses that transported them to different worlds. Flung them to the far reaches of Metro Atlanta. Far from their white bread, upper middle class, privileged, safe lives.

My oldest picked up trash at Nicholas House an organization that provides up to two years of housing to homeless families as they learn a career, manage money and other skills that we all take for granted, I think.

He told me "Mom, this is supposed to be a drug free zone, but I spent my whole day picking up beer bottles and cigarette butts"

All I could think was "Oh baby, if that's all the trash you picked up.............."


My youngest, made sandwiches and packed first aid kits.

This isin't the first time that either of them have made sandwiches for the homeless. They are quite expert at the art of PBJ assembly.

But this time Thumper, after working at the task all day long, climbed in at carpool and asked "Mommy....I made PBJ's ALL DAY and the teachers tell me it's not enough for everyone....how many ARE there? Can we stop and get some more bread and jelly and peanut butter and do some more tonight? Will THAT be enough?"

Oh baby. Not enough, not nearly enough.

But if only a small percentage of the kids who were touched by what they saw and did and felt today remains....then we may have the start of a quiet revolution, in our own very small little corner of the world.

Never forget. Never give up. Believe always.

Lazy Sunday

I know we should be cleaning the house, because there are little tiny doggy dust piles of hair along the baseboards.

But instead here I sit reading, working my way through my stack of books from the library by my bed.

In no particular order

"The Devil Wears Prada" I waited weeks to get this book from the waitlist and my sole motivation was that I'd seen the trailers for the movie with Meryl Streep and I'm a sucker for all things Meryl. My review. Don't bother. I read the first ten chapters, became highly annoyed with the flat one-dimensional depictions of the uber beyotch boss, flipped to the last chapter and called it a day. I haven't done that with a book in YEARS! I'm usually pretty tolerant, but this was just a waste of my time.

"Secret Society Girl" Definitely a cut above Prada. I was very intrigued by the whole concept of the secret societies of the Ivy Leagues. Even though I was in a sorority in college, there was nothing secretive about membership. It was clever, subtly amusing and engaging. And it's to be a series, next novel being based in DC. I will keep my eye on this one.

"Savannah Blues" Loved it! It's set in Savannah (duh) one of my favorite all time cities in the US. Antiques, a hunky chef, murder, mystery...exactly my cup of tea. And the whole time I'm reading it I'm thinking to myself, there is something vaguely familiar about this author's style and timing and pace and humor and attention to detail. So I go visit her website after I finish up and lo and behold, the author, Mary Kay Andrews, is none other than Kathy Hogan Trochak. She of the Callahan Garrity series set in Atlanta. She hasn't released anything under that plume de nom for years and I wondered what happened to her. And I was left wondering why she didn't reference her writing credentials from that hugely popular series. Maybe a publishing house thing? I don't know. I was just happy to be reading her work again.

And now that I have finished Savannah Blues I really must get my husband blasted from his prone football watching position on the sofa, rally the child labor and get to work.

For dinner....meatloaf! I love it when I remember to double or triple a recipe and freeze it for future use. Makes me feel all resourceful and pioneer woman "ish"!

Happy Sunday peeps!

Recap

The literary festival was fabulous!

At least according to my criteria.

And the male faction of my little harem gave it a big booyah because they wandered off to a little history museum in the courthouse while I was being entertained by one of my favorite authors.

Diana Gabladon, she's up for a Qwill award and considering what she writes and how she writes is true testament to her genius.

And she's funny, as in "I can't laugh too hard or take a breath because I'll miss three other really, REALLY killer lines and I don't care if she's said it dozens of times before she is BRILLIANT!"

What's not to love about a woman (with a doctorate addressing the migratory nesting habits of Eastern American songbirds birds) who can respond to THIS query by a member of the German press, "What is the appeal of a man in a kilt" and responds by saying, "Well the thought he could have me up against the wall in 10 minutes"

I rest my case.

So after the festival, which was woefully lacking in really engaging children's activites (I have an email in draft form to the organizers, very supportive with just some very concrete suggestions and observations) we went to to the Dekalb Farmers Market.

Let me tell you.

If anyone has EVER thought of Atlanta as anything BUT an International city, I challenge you to the experience that which is the Dekalb (pronounced DuhCab) Farmer's Market.

First off... I have to say that the "NO photography allowed
inside" sign, cut me to the quick. I sooooooooooo wanted to take pictures. But. The owner. He be savvy. No photography, no stealing of trade secrets.

But oh my soul. If I could paint with words what I could capture with photographs.

The colors and the aromas and sheer insane variety of food spilling out of the stalls. And the HUGE whole fish swimming in aquarium sized vats. And the prices....please. I paid 7.99 a pound for wild Coho Alaskan salmon. It's 17.99 at my local grocery store.

And then there are the flags.

Flags representing every nation, of every employee working at the market.....fluttering from the rafters.

A BIG beautiful teaming mass of language and dress and culture.

It was like being in the UN, only 600 miles south.

My children were mesmerized. I was in heaven.

Therefore, I have decreed that every other Sunday afternoon, we shall make the short 20 minute drive to fill our fridge and expand our minds.

Viva la difference!

Etc

So.

I have this massive pile of books on my nightstand from my local library because I am a greedy little literary "HO" and it's Labor Day Week-End. And I'm getting ready to go into my "Deep space...I'm reading....don't talk to Mommy mode"

Well ACUTALLY...I am a greedy little literary HO, sans library card. Which WAS on my desk last Friday when I renewed and requested and otherwise updated my account like a good little law abiding book geek. But then the card just upped and walked itself into parts unknown. After TEN years. Ingrate.

Now? Now, I have to turn over my drivers license at checkout time and I'm not really all good with that, because I'm having the weird "naked in front of the classroom" kind of nightmare thing going on without my card.

I just don't feel legit without my card. Guess I better steal a buck from the kids piggy bank and make myself an honest woman with a replacement card huh?

Because

A) I don't carry cash because
B) I have a debit card and
C) Who freakin charges a buck on their debit card, which means
D) I am dead if I ever am held up in midtown because...well refer to A

But looking on the bright side. (That would be the insane Pollyanna gene running amok in my DNA that everyone whispers about but never discusses in polite conversation)

Tomorrow....AHHHHHHHHHH. Tomorrow dear peeps......is the First Annual Decatur Book Festival! Woohoo! 100 plus authors, regional, national, global. Be STILL my heart...sigh!

My two favorites, like fangirl squealing favorites, are going to be speaking and signing. SQUEE!

And then there's the food and wine and beer venues. Shirley Corriher, Nathalie Dupree, Scott Peacock. Don't know them??? Google is your friend.

Music....swoon...Emily Sailers (and her folk artist father)

Yes weeuns in da South do has us some EdYOUCaySHEEOn

In short, I will be having a FINE Labor Day week-end.

NSV

NSV? What pray tell is NSV?

That is what I experienced today. NSV is a "Non Scale Victory" in WW speak.

Today dear peeps, I dragged my lax tushie back to WW to face the music And just to make it more fun, I dragged the boys, who are STILL not back in school. god help me.

I haven't been all summer. Why? Why is a very good question and I have a million reasons, but the long and short of it is I am just too dang social during the summer and don't want to be bothered with counting points or staying on Core or....or....or.

So there. pppppppppflllppttt!

But with the school year starting, I knew I ALSO had to "go back to school" so to speak. So there I stood with my little weigh in book in hand and Bambam and Thumper chattering in my ear. Hand over my debit card, step tentatively on the scale

AND

I hadn't gained a single ounce!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Not one, nada, zip, zilch!!!!

After 3 months of enjoying life and taking it easy with the regimen, I was stunned. Which leads me to two pretty earth shattering realizations for me.

1) I think after 10 plus years of WW and losing and maintenance and gaining and losing and maintenance, I have FINALLY internalized some core behavior modification. Which is

2) Only eat until satisfied And I have the CORE plan this spring to thank for THAT little wonder nugget!

Funny, I counted points until the cows came home and I was ALWAYS hungry, probably because I was obsessing over every bite that went in my mouth and not paying attention to my body instead.

3) Exercise every day. Even if it's only 15 or 20 minutes. My body loved me for it. 15 minutes of called adult swim gave me 15 minutes of uniterrupted stroke work. 30 minutes 3 times a week at my firm's gym gave me time on the treadmill to clear my head during lunch and watch BBC's "Changing Rooms" ...woot...bonus.....LOVE them!

Summer may be over, but dang skippy this momma actually learned something over the break!

Go to the head of the class....why yes I will thank you vedddy much!

Peace like a river

So, I did this 20 question "quiz" on who I am and where I am right this very moment and one of the questions was, "What is your facorite song right now?"

My answer?

see the title above and the lyrics below

I got peace like a river
Peace, like a river
Peace, like a river
Down in my soul

I got love like the ocean
Love, like the ocean
Love, like the ocean
Down in my soul

I got joy, like a fountain
Joy, like a fountain
Joy, like a fountain
Down in my soul

Peace. I am at peace and reconciled.

Peace, peace, peace. Like a river. Ever flowing. Intrinsic.

Happy Sunday.....Peace out my friends.

A girl's best friend

So I wake up at 2am.

Not so unusual. I do that alot.

What was different this time?

I had sleep walked into my closet.

No lie.

I have never sleep walked in my ENTIRE life.

And I have to say it scared the crap out of me.

And then I realized I had a headache.

A really badfreakinscarymakeyouwanttothrowup kind of headache.

The kind where you want to remove your head from the shoulders up and cast it into the fiery pits of hell because anything would be better than feeling the stabbing of thousands of needles in your eyes and your neck and your ears.

So I stumbled downstairs with Motrin and my lavendar rice pillow thingy in hand. Threw it in the microwave, swilled the Motrin, felt nauseous even BEFORE the pillow heated up and collapsed on the living room sofa in a fetal whimpering heap.

And then he appeared.

My big,furry savior

He sniffed my feet, my face and gave me a quick "kiss" of solace on my cheek and promptly plopped down by my head and didn't move the whole night, except to follow me to the kitchen (FIVE times) when I had to nuke my lavendar pillow to press on my eyelids and neck.

At daybreak, he heard something that he didn't like. And I saw him do something I had never seen him do before.

He launched himself up against the side windows of the front door and gave a very low guttural "gggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrr"

Paced...came back to me on the sofa. Turned and laid down by my head and gave one more snort at the door.

Have I mentioned lately that I love this dog?

The BEST DOG EVER.

Double Duty

Tonight I take the boys to football practice. Daddy is on the road to Raleigh. More on that later.

Words can not express how much I HATE hot weather. I hate heat. I hate to sweat. I hate those blood sucking freaks of nature that look like birds, but in fact are mosquitos. And to be forced to sit out in it for two hours. I need a book, a good book. And a big cold drink. And surface to air missles for the freaks of nature.

Crap

But at least I'm not driving 6 hours to Raleigh.

Which is the alternative to waiting in 6 hour lines at the airport.

Which is the REALLY serious alternative to getting your ass blown out of the sky by terrorists weilding saline solution and Ipods, leaving a stunned and devastated family behind.

Rock on Scotland Yard and I mean that in all heartfelt sincerity.

Perspective...it's a GOOD thing.

Post VayCay Blaaaaaaaaaaahhhhs

So I'm back from HHI.

The sun, the beach, the pool, the food..... OMG the FOOD, the cousin bonding time, the late evening bike rides, the evening gameboard marathons, the aborted schooner cruise (sad, so sad) the cocktails, the cocktails, the cocktails.

Yes, it has come and gone and I have photos. Two discs worth. My SIL burned all of our cards and now I am left with trying to pix the TOP 50 or so.

I went to put our suitcases away today.

There was still sand in every one of them.

Sometimes you don't need words or pictures to remember

Clean Sweep

So there we sat. Saturday morning. On the sofa. Together.

No agenda, no plans, no kids for the past or future week.

No kids? No Kids? What, in the what what is THAT???

Oh yeah. The kids?

They are whiling away their days at my folks in South Florida doing lovely things such as swimming in the pool off their bedroom and going to the water park and the museums and the library and baking cookies and riding bikes and playing with friends that they have made in all the years we have been traveling to that house and that neighborhood.

I get a daily report from General GiGi. They do, ever so earnestly, try to con their GiGi into not doing their hour of down time reading every day. Or eating their vegetables. Or brushing their teeth. Or...or...or.

But Gigi, being MY mother, is all too familiar with the tactics of the enlisted. Which is to say MY apples don't fall far from the mommy tree and she has comebacks in HER arsenal that I have not touched (or remembered) yet.

My kids? They are fine. We talk to them every day and they tell us they miss us and love us, but they are having a GRAND adventure. Thank you very much.

So back to the sofa.

He and me....we had a cup of coffee, and then another. And snuggled. Watched a movie. And after the excitement of THAT wore off (or the caffeine kicked in) I looked at him. He looked at me and we........

(OH you SO know where this is going? Read the title of the post. Right? Right.)

Said in unison...."Let's do it"

"IT" being cleaning out our room and the kids rooms and closets and drawers and under the bed (very, very scary) of all the accumulated crap that piles up when you aren't vigilant, despite your best efforts.

I think the dust bunnies had their very own chain of command. And I know for a fact the gum wrappers had organized their own union.

So after we got all hot and dirty and nasty and sweaty doing our cleaning thang, we took a shower, went out to eat, rented a movie (are you seeing a repeating theme here?) and snuggled on the sofa feeling all smug and self satisfied.

Was the day romantic? Hell yes. Why? Because I got to spend the entire day with my husband, side by side. We laughed, we bickered over what to keep and what to toss, we sorted through all of our and our kids accumulated "memories" (Crap or treasure...heads or tails....rock, paper, scissors, shoot. Yes it got that silly) and reminisced along the way.

That day and the past 10 days have reminded me why I married this man in the first place. Because no matter how hot and dirty and nasty and sweaty life gets, he still makes me feel funny and smart and beautiful and safe.

And he makes me laugh. Hard. And roll my eyes and laugh some more. And then snort and say "Are you kidding me? It's just a piece of construction paper with ten times the glue"

And he says, "Look closer" and I look and it says "you're the best mommy cause you snuggle me"

Yep, it's official. He's a keeper.

Happy Happy Friday

They are home safe! I just talked to the Dad. Connor's friend, her sister and mom got out of Lebanon and are back in the States!

I am so beyond happy and relieved!

Thanks to everyone for all their good thoughts and prayers.

It meant a lot to me and to the family.

Happy week-end, happy day!

Day One

10 years ago today, Atlanta hosted the Centennial Olympic Games. Big stuff for a little phoenix of a city that got burned to the ground 130 years earlier. Athens probably wanted to recreate that historic moment, if not for stealing the event out from under their favored noses, at least for the horror that was the mascot, IZZY. Izzy was scary, very scary. And BLUE, that would be the collective chokehold of a mortified city. And stars dancing around his head, again see collective choke hold. I'm not even going to touch the imagery of oversized feet.

I was hugely pregnant with BamBam and saw only one event, women's (and I use the term women loosely) gymnastic trials.

I rode the MARTA down to the venue and was 6 steps behind OJ Simpson going up the escalator to the venue. Creepy. (The same stop and escalator Co & Nancy took with me for CHA)

It was exciting and boring all at the same time.

DH worked security at the VIP section at the Aquatic venue every night and for his volunteer work amassed quite a collection of pins from the different reps of countries attending the events. Oh and he still has the uniform, which originally included long green polyester pants that met with a well organized revolt by all those working outside venues,resulting in the pants becoming shorts overnight. Can you say magic tape? I don't sew. Oh and the pith helmet. People would walk up to him everyday and offer him a couple hundred dollars for it. He never did cave and it sits on a shelf in his closet now.

If he wears it to the Atlanta History Museum, he gets in free to the new wing they've opened dedicated to the Olpympics. (woohoo....I knew there as a reason for holding on to that uniform) They wanted him to be a docent once every couple of months, but week-ends are the only option and those are a precious commodity in our house.

Still no word on my son's friend and her mom and little sister. Telephone numbers have been exchanged between the Congressman and the father.

If you're sending positive thoughts and prayers, I really appreciate it. Hopefully we'll hear some good news soon.

Cast your cares

All this past week, I have been on birthday party lock down compounded with two weeks of separation from kids looming over my head and under my radar is this uglier, scarier thing.

And I can only talk about it now because I have some news.

We have some friends, C's 'girlfriend" of 5 years from school and her parents. They are so cute, more like brother and sister. They are tight and close in the best innocent, unspoiled male/female friendship sort of way.

I just saw her and her mom two weeks ago at our last swim meet of the season. C and I got huge hugs and grins and promises of see you in August. Because she, her little sister and mom...they headed back, two weeks ago to visit family in Lebanon for 2 months.

I've left messages. Their cell phone mail boxes are full. They haven't called back. I've tried to reach them by email. No word.

Until today.

I got an email. The dad is in America. He was only there for a week. He's back in the States and is trying frantically to get his wife and two girls out. The wife is also Lebanese. The kids, being born in America, have dual citizenship. It's just surreal and it SUCKS.

One minute I'm hugging an enchanting, spunky, smart, beautiful little girl with crystalline blue eyes....one who has stolen my son's heart.

And the next, I'm wondering how the hell things go to a handbasket so quickly.

Birthday Redux

I came, I saw, I about passed out from the heat. Luckily I was wearing my hot pink tankini and jumped in the pool in between my "Julie, the Cruise Director" moments.

Here's the picture.... me with clipboard in hand greeting guests at the "lido" deck.

"Hi! I'm so glad you are here (insert child's name)! What would you like for lunch? Hamburger, Cheeseburger or Hot Dog? Great! The drop off table for presents is under the tent and you can put your pool bag on the benches"

Turning to parents (smiles/hugs/kisses as determinined by level of acquaintance, friendship and/or length of time seeing me be a complete goofball...kisses for the latter)

1) Can I have a number where you can be reached?

2) I've got your number on my cell, see you at 1PM and have fun!

3) You are staying??? Great! Adult beverages are in the blue cooler and what would you like for lunch? Hamburger, cheeseburger or hot dog? No.....there is no steak or grilled fish. Try Houlihan's.... funny...haha"

The party in short was fantastic. The kids had a blast and so did the adults, especially when Mr. Kyle did his amazing pyro act with the grill. It was freakin hot, but I stayed cool (see above).

I scored major mommy points for organization and execution of a party for 30 boys. And the treasure chest cake that I lifted from Family Fun...awesome!!! This is good, because first off no one wandered off or was hurt, therefore avoiding a call to search and rescue. And other than one child's cherry toe, that was easily mended by DH, we were accident free. But it also means I may need to go undercover next year at the PTA meetings. Oh hell, who am I kidding. I've been with these parents for 6 years now. They know my weaknesses.

This morning, I was up bright and early, getting bagels for the road prepared and we did the trade off with my parents at high noon at Cracker Barrel, halfway between points of destination.

Lots and lots of good quality conversation between me and DH on the way back. Funny, this is how it will be for two weeks, a return to the land before time, ie BK, before kids.

I'm going to make the most of this time, for me and my marriage. But I do confess, I miss the little stinkers already and so does Jake the wonder dog!

T Minus...........

20.5 hours and counting until (30) 7-8 year olds invade my neighborhood pool for a birthday party.

Pirate themed of course. "It's Captain. Captain Jack Sparrow" for a joint birthday party with my youngest son and his good friend.

Am I insane? Why yes!!! Thank you for asking...have a mint on your way out.

At this point I am in full party lock down mode. I have vague urges prompting me to crawl into some cool, dark place and rock myself to sleep. And I'm going to wrap myself in my nice cozy Excel Spreadsheet that has all the attendees names, cell phones and lunch orders.

I would zone out, but the treasure chest cake still needs to be iced.

Why? Why am I doing this???

Because last time this year, only 2 of my son's friends came and his co host buddy?? 15 of his friends showed up.

C was crushed. Not about the presents, but about the friends.
"Why didn't they come?"

And I explained the whole "It's summer and everyone is on vacation and you really do have LOTS of friends" (which he does....he has a more active social schedule in a month than I do in a year)

So I invited ALL his friends this year. Scouts, class, baseball, outside class friends.

Just EVER SO slightly more than last year and almost EVERYONE is coming.

This year, NO ONE is out of town.

NO ONE

help

I've already told him that he can't keep all those presents. It's just insane and not right. He suggested the community action center. Good boy, good choice.

And the morning after the party, I pack my two boys in Big Red, drive to a half way point in FL, give them to my rents for two weeks and drive back.

And?

WHAT?

You think I have a plan for what follows?

I have no plans other than return, collapse, wake up, go to work and for the first time in almost 10 years, NOT have a plan for the rest of the day.

I may sink, I may swim, my bets are on floundering, lots of floundering.

I'll report back sometime next week.

If you don't hear from me in a week...send out an advance party and bring a stretcher.

YoHoHo...where's the bottle of rum???

******************************************

Disclaimer, lest you all think I ENJOY inflicting pain on myself.

I ENJOY throwing a good party more. I love seeing folks of all ages smiling and hanging and laughing and getting outside themselves.

At the end of the day? I will be wiped, cause it is FREAKIN hot here in GA and the blanket is not a spreadsheet but humidity.

BUT, I will also have had a rockin good time with all the other adults at the party and my kids and their friends will have a memory of a time when life was good and simple and sweet.

Cause really in the end...it's just burgers and cake and friends swimming in the pool

And THAT is good stuff

Adventures in Dermatology

or why having to choose an HMO doctor sucks.

So I go to my little group insurance website to find a dermatologist because..................

Warning...if you are squeamish and don't have a sense of humor??? Stop reading now and go blog elsewhere.

A) I've got this itchy white rash on my neck, that rears it's ugly head every few years, having first blessed me with it's "presence' at the tender age of 12.

and

B) Acne. WTF?????? I'm freakin 45 years old. At some point between the grey hair and emerging wrinkles....acne should NOT be on the list of beauty maintenance concerns.

CRAP

So I go like a good little doobie to my HMO approved dermatologist,(who lives within walking proximity) and am told in the course of a 10 minute consult that

A) Adult onset acne is more common than puberty acne.

Oh realllllly??? Since when? Cause I'm looking at photos of my ancestors at my age and they didn't have acne and they didn't have makeup or photoshop, so WHAT gives???

and

B)That itcy white rash on my neck. Uhhmmm...yeah, there's no getting rid of it permanently. The stuff that causes it? Is everywhere. It just happens to like my skin. A lot. Oh great...THIS is what wins me a freakin popularity award???

oh and to cap it off

C) I have a flippin printout with (6), yes that is SIX prescriptions to cure my ails. Okay doing the math, 6 scrips times a $30 co-pay and the $25 office visit fee and I'm over $200 with no guarantee that any of this will work.

Can you say hosed?

Can you say homey don't play this game?

yeah...that's what I said.

Six scrips my a#$

Child of My Heart

She is coming.

This week-end.

There are two young ladies in my life who are like my own children.

Child(ren) of my heart, but not of my womb. Although I don't really think the womb makes that much difference. They are still mine. I will share. Read on.

The oldest, she is so much like her father, both in appearance and oh so under the radar snarky humor. She is quietly, charmingly witty And beautiful, classic, very old world beauty. She looks like a Dutch master painting. And when she feels comfortable with you, the full measure of her intelligence and her charm astound you.

The youngest, she is an artist. A dreamer. A writer. She is also a beauty.... like her mother. And if her beauty was only at the surface, it would merely stop you in your tracks. But it is what lies beneath that takes your breath away.

These two are going to make the world a better place. They are the daughters I did not have.

I always knew I wanted children. Even at the age of 12, I knew I wanted to be a mom. And I always, always wanted boys. And I got my heart's desire with BamBam and Thumper.

But before that, I was given what I needed.

Girls.

These girls? These children of my heart?

They were given to me by their mother, my dear friend of 20 years.

They arrived on the scene years before my raucous posse of boy-men invaded my realm.

I was there, waiting for them to come home, when they were born.

I held their tiny newborn heads in my hands and marvelled at the elegant length of their fingers and their rosy red lips and the sheer perfection of their newborn skin.

With the youngest, DH and other friends made a mad dash to finish up her nursery 24 hours before she was due home.

We called it "Operation Laying the Floors while They're at the Doors"

We've had a lot of fun with that one through the years. Especially since her daddy is a minister at a growing Presbyterian church and her mom is in her last year of seminary. These two, this couple, are and will always be a rockin team. Two for one never had so much meaning.

But I digress, back to "my" girls.

I held their fingers as they toddled. I swayed and rocked with them when they were fretful and their parents were tired. I played endless make believe games and cuddled with them in the pews of church while they drew me works of art that still hang in my office.

My long hair has been styled more ways than J-Lo's.

I have watched their fingers dance across a piano and their bodies skip across a stage.

I've listened to their voices soar in children's choir. And I still try to listen, really listen as they share with me, their fears and dreams.

It is such an awesome responsibility and privilege to share this journey with them. These children of my heart.

And now my "baby" girl is coming for the week-end, from a distance of only 1.5 hours away. Because she needs to be reminded that she is still special and unique and precious, despite being supplanted as the "baby", by a BOY, no less!!!!

So we shall go and get a pedicure, and have tea, window shop, make art and just be girls.

And we will also...............

talk about the day she came home from the hospital
and the day she first sang in the choir
and the art that still hangs in my office
and the place she has in my life.

And I'm sure someone's hair is not going to look like it did on Friday!

And she will always, and forever be....a child of my heart.

Who needs lead time

for a birthday party when your mom can create invites like this?



(Maybe I SHOULD make a layout of all their summer birthday invites. If I could just find them!)

and the layout? It's already done (in my head at least). Invite on the right, photo on left, very CZ.

I bow to the wonderfulness that is my graphic designer friend!

The "Bug"

I've got it. I don't know quite what to do with it. But I tell you it has hit me hard and fast.

That would be THE decorating bug, or redecorating bug.

No piece of furniture or blank wall is safe in this house.

And my kids are willing enablers.

"Mommy? Can I paint my room next week-end?"

"Mom, I want to move my furniture. Look, I drew it all out. Will it fit?"

Next week-end....Benjamin Moore's Soft Pumpkin is slated to hit mine and DH's bedroom walls. We are going for a simple Zen like Asian feel.

The boy's bathroom is going to get a coat of Marine Blue.

God only knows what will hit the walls the week-end after that.

Change....color....it is a GOOD thing!

Father's Day Recap

(as told by the wife)

Sleep in.

Sleep in some more.

Sniff, sniff. UUUUHHHMMMM, that's DW makes cinnamon chocolate chip waffles. Yawn, stretch, stumble downstairs. First bite....sigh....yummy.

Drink coffee. Uhhhmmmm, sigh. Blink, blink. ( Jake did what??? He ate your Tevas???? Sigh)

Open gifts. Get teary over handmade accordion fold card made by DW and sons.

Go to TarJay with family. Buy new vacuum. WEEHOO, DW loves new vacuum (and secretly so do I. It does everything except balance the check book. And with a couple of modifications could probably do basic algorithms)

Go grocery shopping with family. Steak, potatoes, corn, asparagus all to be roasted to nutty perfection by DW.

Come home. Assemble and help DW test drive new vacuum through out house. (I'm the heavy lifter, ie mover of furniture)

DUHHHHHAYYYYYYM, there's enough dog hair in that dump filter to knit a sweater.

Rearrange furniture in master bedroom at behest of DW. Why? You have to ask why???? Oh hey, sweeeeeeeeeet, bonus!! Can get into bed without banging shin on bureau.

But wait! It's change and change is not good, unless DW tells you it is good. Then you pretend it is good, until you forget that it wasn't always good. And then...wait...what was the question anyway???

Watch US Open while snuggling on sofa with sons. Tiger didn't make the cut, first Father's Day without his dad. Too much pressure this year. He'll come back. He's a dad now too.

Eat roasted to perfection dinner in front of TV, watching US Open and snuggling sons on sofa. SWWWWEEEEEETTT!

Go see my Dad with gifts and really cool handmade card made by DW. Does your DW make handmade Father's Day cards for you to give to your Dad? Bonus points for me!

And the night is still young.

It's good to be a dad.

(or at least that's MY interpretation of his day)

True Blue

True blue

What does that mean to you?

from dictionary.com it means

Loyal, faithful, as in You can count on her support; she's true blue. This expression alludes to the idea of blue being the color of constancy, but the exact allusion is disputed. One theory holds it alludes to the unchanging blue sky, another to the fastness of a blue dye that will not run. Blue has been the identifying color of various factions in history. In the mid-1600s the Scottish Covenanters, who pledged to uphold Presbyterianism, were called true blue (as opposed to red, the color of the royalists). In the 1800s the same term came to mean "staunchly Tory," and in America, "politically sound."

I'm a word geek. I love words. I love the nuances. I love how, with just the right word, you can say so much, with so little.

Which brings me to the word or should I say phrase of the day.

True Blue.

First of all I LOVE the Scottish connection. WOOT...shoutout to my daddy's side of the family.

So why this phrase?

Because my boys brought home the hardware or software in the form of ribbons, from last night's swim meet. My boys? They placed first in every single event in which they were entered. 4 blue ribbons each.

And because my boys showed me once again how much heart, how true blue, they are at their core.

I can't take too much credit here, or can I?

I really think most of what they are...it is innate and I should be used to this by now. Yes Lisa, you have fish for children. They come by it honestly. Yes Lisa, your boys seem to have some internal moral compass that you support.

Okay so that's the nature.

And then there's the nurture, which I and their daddy and extended family and caregivers and so on and so forth can totally take credit for collectively as a whole.

Nature vs Nurture. Why is this an either or? It's not. It's a delicate dance between the two.

A delicate dance that takes my breath away.

Swim team. It's just summer league folks, I know that. But there are some seriously powerful life lessons bubbling to the surface, along the rough and wet decks of any neighborhood pool, on any given evening on swim meet nights.

Watching my boys? It's how I think I would feel if I could swim with dolphins. (strangely enough that's our team mascot)

They are so sure of their strength and their ability, my boys.

The leap off the block, the arch as they parallel the surface, the slice through the water, the smooth, powerful stroke of their little boys arms. It is pure bliss to behold.

Bliss I tell you. Bliss and awe. THAT was formed in my womb? THAT carries my DNA? THAT is it's OWN complete and totally unique being? ROCK ON!

Mommy induced hormone seque over, we return to present day.

It is what happens after the race that inspires this blogging moment(s)

When my little boys drape their arms around their team mates who didn't win and say "You ALMOST beat me and I bet you might beat me next time."

When one of my boys hears another team mate start a little "trash" talkin about the other team (we're undefeated)and steps in and says,"It's not nice to say mean things. I have friends on that team"

Followed by, just so you know my kids, like their momma are NOT perfect "Did I say you could play with my Gameboy? NO! GIVE it to me MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!"

When through sheer will, your boys swim up an age level in a relay, and win some critical points for the team. "Sure Coach Celeste. I'll swim. What stroke am I doing? Am I only going 25 yards? Okay cool. Can I throw you in the pool if we win??"

That's heart.

That's strength.

THAT'S true blue.

Evite

Evite.com......what in the world did I do before you came into my life??!!

I LOVE evite!!

You would think for a girl that loves all things paper that an electronic email invitation would be the last thing that would tickle my fancy.

But tickle it does! Honestly, when you are inviting LARGE numbers of people to parties and you have LOTS of parties, the amount you save in postage and cards alone is enough to buy a keg of beer or case of wine for every party or mucho primo cheese!

And then there's the whole instant gratification thing of knowing when people have VIEWED your invite and then all the glorious email responses!!

Oh....and no more, lost in the mail, hurt feelings, etc.

If I see someone hasn't viewed it within a week of it going out, I call them and say "Hey, girlfriend, check your dang email every once in awhile" HEH

Right now in my rotation, I have Connor's "Pieces O' Eight" Pirate Birthday party, a Wednesday night cook-out and a Meet & Greet at the pool for our House of Representatives rep.

Full email inbox....makes me happy!

Football?

So here in this region known as the Deep South of the good ole U S of A, we have this thang called Football.

Which involves lots of big boys/men smashing into each other, whilst legions of hardcore fans engage in professional drinking contests, high priced haggling over tickets and debates over who has the most kick ass tailgate spread.

Then we have the rest of the world.

As in World Cup....soccer as we like to call it across the pond.

And lest you think that we, in the land of Dixie, are completely ignorant bafoons, "football" south of the Mason Dixon line is hotter than a wool coat on a July day.

Case in point.

Hubby goes to play church league softball today at a big sports complex that is usually also teeming with similarily age specific soccer players.

Today? Nadda. They are all at home, coozie in hand (one would presume) watching the World Cup.

At least according to the folks who run said primo sports facility.

HEH

Today.... US of A vs the Czech Republic 12PM EST ABC

Play on!

Ticket to Ride

So I'm sitting here rifling through this PILE of invites my kiddos have received for summer birthday parties, class get togethers, scouting soirees and I start thinking to myself (which is kind of a dangerous thing)

Self? When did your offspring start having a more active social life than you have?

And then I remembered, it all started with "play dates" And that was SEVEN years ago for my oldest son.

Which started me on two random yet completely related stream of consciousness meanderings.

Play dates. Can I tell you how ridiculous that whole phrase sounds?

Play dates??? When I was gowing up, we didn't have play dates. We met in the cul de sac every morning in the summer or during the school year after 3pm and planned our own "play dates".

Reality check. I know that it's a scary world. Always has been. And I know things have changed, but not as much as lots of folks seem to think. Long conversations with my parents and inlaws have given me insight on that one.

So I made a decision this summer....to let go.

And what does that mean?

It means my kids can walk down the street to the cul de sac (after telling me where they are going) and play, coming back when they are ready.

It means they can ride their bikes on our street without me sitting at the top of the driveway watching.

It means they can head off to the pool on foot, scooter or bike (with me 5 minutes behind)

I'm letting go, which means............

Change

My oldest will be 10 in a few short months.

How did that happen?

Of course I KNOW how it happened. I just can't seem to remember when. All I have are the lyrics from Aerosmith's "Don't want to miss a thing" playing on some kind of cosmic mommy loop in my head.

What I do know for sure... from this point on, the ride is accelerating into a fast and furious looping spiral and if I blink my eyes, I will miss it.

And I don't want to miss it.

I want to soak up every scary, hairy, wonderful, sublime, wacky, wild, challenging, tender, lovely moment of it.

Ten years from now, they will be gone. Flown the coop. And I will have (statistically speaking) another 40 years to be me. (Another scary thought. I really must stop spending so much time online)

In the meantime, they are in MY park and I have a ticket to ride. And I am going to let go, with my eyes wide open, hands in the air and screaming with equal parts fear and delight.

Because at the end of my life, I want to know and I want my boys to know that I lived my life facing my fears and also without fears.

Let it ride

Week-End Update

For the record, it was glorious and I am completely recharged and rested!

Friday I had dinner with friends, stayed up til midnight drinking wine and chatting. It was loverly.

Saturday, the weather was cool and sunny, so I spent beaucoup time on my back porch reading, sipping diet coke and just day dreaming.

Sunday, I had the time to finish my dad's father's day mini album and it's in the mail!

My merry but weary band of men didn't return until 11pm on Sunday, so it was really an almost four day mini vacation for me.

Lesson learned, I'm not waiting seven years for my next solo week-end.

I am flying solo

as of 3:30 this afternoon.

Hubby unit and two man childs are cruisin towards Ponte Vedra, FL as we speak for a coaches/sons week-end.

I am beyond ecstatic.

Woohoo...ME time! Sleepin in, no worries, no homework, no packing book bags, pure selfish ME time, create art, my own agenda, pampering, girl time.

I am thrilled and excited and thankful for this break.

But I also am thankful, that my merry and manic band of three, will return to me on Sunday.

Memorial Day

So what's the first thing that pops in your mind?

Three day week-end?

Mini vacation?

Sleeping in?

Pool parties?

Cookouts?

Time to get stuff done around the house?

School's out revelry?

All of those things are truly necessary, enjoyable and/or deserved and I shall be engaging in all but the last this week-end!

But this year is going to be a little different for me. Okay, a lot different because of:

Spring Break this year, which included a day trip to Gettysburg. The visual imagery our guide shared, as he drove us around the battlefield in our own car was chilling. I mean chilling to the bone.

Meeting WWII vets last year. Looking into the watery eyes of an 80 year old vet as he thanked me for thanking him was a lesson in humility and grace and hope.

The safe return of one of my co-workers and the shipping out of another for a second tour(he, who on his first tour, was one of the medics who helped rescue Jessica Lynch, remember her?) They are so young and so brave and so scared and so real. And because I have walked and talked and laughed and complained with them, my anxiety and prayers are so much more intense.

So it will be different and much, much more personal than it has ever been in the past.

And as I munch my chips and burger and watch my kids splash in the pool, my silent mantra all day long will be "thank you...thank you...thank you."

I have never faced and taken a bullet for freedom,(thank you God) but I most certainly can thank and pray for those who have, and do and will.

The pool, the pool, the pool

No Tattoo, we are not on Fantasy Island.

But we are in Hotlanta and the neighborhood pool, that sparkling, cool, aquatic bastion of enchantment and entertainment opens TODAY!

And there's a Cookout.

I tell you it can't get any better than this.

Kids entertained, happy, fed.

Mom doesn't have to cook.

Hail, hail, let the summer games begin!

Service with a Smile

I LOVE Publix

Don't know what Publix is?

I'm sorry. Deeply sorry. Bless your heart.

First of all, my apologies. Cause here in the South we are all about manners.

Even when we are being snarky.

If we say, "bless your heart"???

Trust me. You are being snarked, but in an EVER so polite way.

Back to Publix.

Publix rocks. Publix is a Southern icon, a grocery store that transcends all other grocery stores.

Service with a smile?? Honey, they go you one better and then some.

Case in point.

A few months ago, I went to Publix for a special run. Golden raisins. An essential ingredient in a divinely delicious recipe from Cooking Light. They were on sale. WOOT!

Woot not.

Golden raisins? They be gone.

But who should come to my rescue? Why a dashing Publix grocery manager, that's who.

"Ma'am, how can I help you????"

SIDE BAR You use the word ma'am in the South, even if you ONLY suspect that said ma'am is a mere 15 seconds older than you.


MOI '"Oh dear. There are no more golden raisins. Your special must have cleared the shelves"(batting eyes ever so subtly)


MANAGER That is not a problem, ma'am. Just give me your name, phone number and address (GOD that was FUN!) and I will deliver them to you personally tonight. I'm expecting my delivery truck within the hour.

DUHAYAAAAAAAAAAAHM

Talk about service. I nearly SWOONED.

So Publix...they rock and NOW I have one right next door to my office. No REALLY...right next door. I walk out my building, turn left and BOINK, run right into the store.

Grand opening today folks!

For the past 18 months we've watched various construction workers and machinery throw up this really cool curvy, blue glass, two wing high rise condo complex. Residences with retail below. Wave of the future riding on the back of the past.

So I called in my deli order in the morning. Worked out at lunch, picked up my order, and the latest copy of Scrapbooks, etc, got a really cool black mesh tote as a give away.

Got to love urban renewal.

Got to love Publix!!!!

Mommy? Are you and daddy

......going to get a divorce?

(so uttered by my youngest DS today on the way home from the grocery store)

HUH?

OKay, well, in light of what has happened in the past year, maybe not such a weird question.

Rewind.

Exhibit A

Our backyard neighbors got divorced. I am very good friends with the wife. But I tried to take the high road and facilitate reconciliation until the soon to be ex, showed his true colors. I won't go into the details only to say that what I witnessed leading up to the split and the aftermath shocked me and I'm not easily shocked.

Exhibit B

Another couple, good friends, also decided that after three kids, and 10 years, that they were friends, not soul mates. No anger. No finger pointing. No, she said, he said. Very sad. And they are trying to make sure that their mistake doesn't affect their kids ultimate good. It's just so surreal. The marriage... a mistake? Maybe? The kids, never. Never.

Fast forward to Friday.

Hubby and I are having a very "passionate" debate about discipline, specifically relating to the kiddos of course.

Here's the thing. I am not one to wrap my kids in a little cocoon of idealized life and by it's extension....marriage. In my book it is wrong and sets up unrealistic expectations later on in life. I am not June Cleaver.

Two days later, I get the question.

"Are you going to get divorced?"

And a completely logical one, given the events of the past year and my lame brained explanations.

I need to back peddle. Lame brained? That would be because I have told both of them, in the previous two cases, that sometimes mommies and daddies don't get along and they decide that everyone is happier if they don't live together. (Which is an utterly simplistic and abbreviated version of all that went wrong, but do ANY of us really need to know the full details?? NO....moving on)

Fast forward to my life. My husband and I don't always see eye to eye. I'm a flaming liberal. He....is a dyed in the wool conservative.

Needless to say......we have different points of view.

But not a different goal.

After 18 years, we are still here. Together.

I won't sugar coat it here folks. There have been times when I have wept, gnashed my teeth and been about ready to hurl myself into the abyss.

What has stopped me?

1) Knowing that I have a partner in crime and in time. My husband has had the same doubts and fears and despair and has shared them with me on more occasions than I can count

and

2) My boys...enough said.

So to Thumper and his query?

Driving home from the Publix, I said

"Mommy and Daddy, we don't always agree. And sometimes we get really, really mad at each other, just like you get really mad at your brother. But I can promise you this. I still love your daddy, even when he makes me crazy. And he still loves me. And we made a promise to each other a long, long time ago before God and our family and our friends. And we aren't going to break it...EVER.....pinky swear."

post script

I came home, unloaded the groceries and the boys, to my best friend, aka dyed in the wool conservative, make me crazy, husband and went up to our room and cried.

For my girlfriends, whose husband's didn't live up to their pinky swears.

For their kids, who just want to know that everything in their world is going to be okay.

Sometimes...you just need to cry.

What's It All About Alfie?

Do you ever feel that you were born old?

That this was not your first time on the pony ride?

NO? If not, either read on because you relate, are intrigued or question or disagree. All are welcome at my round table discussion. Post at will.

As for me, it all began when I was 8 and I decided to befriend the school misfit.

Why do such a radical thing? Why rock the boat? Why? Why? Why?

Who nows? All I know, is that all these years later, in my core, I wasn't having any more of it.

The "it" being what was expected or accepted or demanded.

Yep, at the ripe old age of 8, I basically said "screw you" to the status quo. Although I am quite sure I would never have uttered, nor have THOUGHT to utter such words, although I might have expressed it in a different way.

Two years earlier, I have photographic evidence that I wasn't going to toe the party line. Flashback, Kindergarten, class picture. Everyone's hands are folded as instructed. Mine? Mine are flat on the desk. Where am I in the pix? Front and center.

So back to my point. There is one...really.

My oldest son is in 3rd grade and things are shifting. He was 8 at the beginning of this school year (kharma anyone?) and already I'm seeing all around him the same ponying up to the socio-mathematical "mean".

Do you go with the flow, the majority, the 'in" crowd?

Or do you chart your own course with a true compass, which in my book boils down to the Golden Rule? Are you hurting or helping with your actions, words and/or deeds?

Already I see his conflict.

But I also see his center.

And that.....that gives me hope.

That somewhere, somehow, despite my less than perfect parenting, I am helping him find his way.

And in doing so, he has returned the favor.

Double Expresso

No, no....not that kind of fix.....my caffienated friends.

I'm talking hair color....more to the point my haircolor now.

And I did it myself!

Dang Skippy...if I had known how easy this was to do...I would have been on the "Starbucks Tress Train" years ago.

My hair...it looks hot. No not just hot...SMOKIN!

No grey, just shiny, soft yummy color.

Of course there were a few scary moments when my shower stall was splattered with blood red purple droplets and the water pooled at my feet in the same hue.

I was having "Carrie" prom scene flashbacks....and I actually screamed.

Poor Jake, aka the wonder dog, about had kittens, I know it boggles the scientific mind. He came FLYING into the bathroom to defend his clueless mistress. Which was a scene in and of itself, because he is so ginormous, his back end catches up with his front end about three minutes later, which produces a really cool skid effect.

But I digress. After the skid into the shower, he looked kind of mocha until I hosed him off.

Good thing the kiddos and DH were at a baseball game together.

There are just sometimes when a woman needs TOTAL privacy!

Sorry Jake, next time I'll close the door.

And I won't scream.

heh.

Matthew & Matthew

Game over (Sorry Co) because I simply couldn't hold it in any longer!

Matthew McConaughey and Matthew Fox are filming "We Are Marshall" RIGHT across the street from my office. Today is suppposedly the last day. No sightings yet, but I still have hope!

And I have my camera in my office!

M2

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Okay who wants to play 20 questions???

It has to do with the world of entertainment and proximity to MOI!!

So go!!!!

Sisterhood of the Shopping Senoras

My mom is back in town.

That dear bloggers means my wallet and my credit is usually in serious peril.

See I'm normally one of those once a quarter shoppers,only filling in my wardrobe with "MUST" haves.

"MUST" haves being clean underwear, a bra that fits, a few tee shirts, maybe if I'm feeling really crazy a pair of pants or some new "practical" shoes.

My mom???? She's all about the you "NEED" to haves.

NEED equals fun, cute, kicky things.

You know the kind of outfit or shoe or accessory that makes you twirl three times in front of the mirror, flip your hair and put your hand on your hip as it thrusts out in it's BEST catwalk imitation, purse your lips, tilt your head and consider your totally hot (or at least the flattering mirrors make you THINK you are hot) visage.

Simultaneously, my mother flits around me pulling, tucking, adjusting. Only to pull back, all Edith Head, and declare that I and the outfit are DESTINED, destined to be one.

Very Zen and funny and DANGEROUS all at the same time.

The results for todays shopathon

Zen - Ten
Funny - Eleven
DANGEROUS - Zero ( Yes zero, HOORAY for gift certificates, birthday discounts, passport customer coupons and auto discounts)

ZEN - I scored FOUR ridiciulously hot/hip pieces.

FUNNY - Laughed so hard my Mom almost made me had an accident. (She really needs to stop that....those damn Kegel exercises during my pregnancies didn't accomplish squat)

DANGEROUS - The final tally won't leave me with buyer's remose tomorrow.

And...I have dropped two dress sizes!!!!

I think I just achieved shopping Nirvanna......oooohhhhhmmmmmm.

High Five

Spring is in full glorious bloom here in Georgia. The skies are crystalline blue. The grass and trees shout for joy in technicolor green. The dogwoods suspend clouds of white flowers everywhere you look and the azaleas are pop, pop POPPING orange, red and fuschia.

In a word...............spectacular!

And in my own personal ode to happiness, I offer up my top FIVE "make me happy til I want to wiggle, giggle and dance my way across the lawn barefoot and fancy free!"

ONE I work from home all day on Fridays...can I tell you how much I love not having to get up, get dressed, put on makeup, curl my hair, blahdablahda? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

TWO My folk arrive for the week-end. They love me and think I hung the moon. Make me laugh. Make me happy. Make my kids delirously happy. YAY bring on the GiGi and PopPop

THREE My new painted canvas rug arrives tomorrow. My girlfriend who makes and designs the rugs among other things has been working her tail off so I can have it in time for my folks arrival. I designed it, she tweaked it, she says it's stunning. I am giddy at the thought!

FOUR School has been so much easier for my oldest son this week. The whys and wherefores deserve their own post at a later date, but for now, my world is considerably less chaotic. I never knew this was how normal was supposed to be.

FIVE My lilacs are blooming. Big fat purple bundles of sublime scent and color.

What are your top FIVE current odes to happiness?

Pass it on!

Blue on Blue

I would love to post linkage...really I would.

But my digital died on Spring Break and is currently at the Cannon Cryogenics Lab in Illinois to see if a miracle is forthcoming.

In the meantime, I will leave you with this tantalizing clue.

Sporty and Honest, tone on tone......where would I be in Lisa's house???

Game on.

Fat as a Foil

HUH?

Let me elaborate.

For the past 6 years I have been gaining weight on the average of 5 pounds a year. And in chatting with Wen last night I shared that 6 years ago, something happened at my local grocery store that rocked my world.

I had my two babes with me. Bambam was 3, Thumper was barely 1.

I was in a checkout line. I had a brief casual conversation with a man behind me along the lines of "Yes, I like Boars Head better than store brand because there are no fillers" type of back and forth.

I wrote my check, gathered my bags and proceeded to my car, babes in tow.

I loaded my purchases in the trunk, strapped my babes in their car seats, turned to get in my car and

....there he was, at my CAR!!! The man behind me in line.

He tried to make conversation. But I was having none of it. My women's intuition kicked into high gear and I bolted. Slammed the locks down and peeled off.

Hello. I'm sorry. You don't follow a woman with two children to her car.

NOT normal.

That one event was certainly not the all encompassing reason for my weight gain.

But subconsciously, on a maternal level, it was MY catalyst.

My thought process?? I won't be attractive. I put my children at risk. This can't happen again.

The outcome?? I wrapped, clothed, sheathed, defended myself with a layer of fat. My fat as a foil, if you will.

BUT, my thought process was not perfect...go figure.

The weight gain made me tired and depressed and feeling sick. For a former athlete, feeling unhealthy was a red flag for me. I HATE feeling rundown and not having the energy to play or keep up with my kiddos.

Those who know me well and have seen me in action, know I am a big kid at heart, ie the first one down in the grass inspecting an inchworm or playing a game of freeze tag or singing nonsensical lyrics at the TOP of my lungs.

And when I would not, could not do this anymore....I took action.

I've slimmed down, people are noticing, complimenting...... and that....that scares me.

I don't want people to look at me, notice me, compliment me.

That one event, when the boys were young, shook me so hard, I don't know how to recover.

But I also know, if I can't work through this issue, all the good I am doing for my body now, will be fleeting.

I don't want fleeting.

I'd really like to dance with my boys at their weddings.

15 down

and 20 to go.

Pounds that is!

And I lost 3.5 last week, using the CORE WW program.

I am so proud of myself for getting this far, even though it has been excruciatingly slow. No really.... excruciating. This behavior modification thing is NOT for sissies.

Oddly enough, I'm learning so much more on this journey than I have in the past, especially in the past week.

Okay cause.... I know you're dying to glean my nuggets of wisdom (NOT!)here's what I've learned so far.

1) Eating whole, not processed fooods makes me feel better

Okay some of you may be rolling your eyes and mouthing a big "DUH" on this one, but it was truly a revelation for me. I wasn't hungry ALL the time. I wasn't cranky and bitchy. I was satisfied and happy and CALM!

2) A little bit of exercise goes a long way

Just 30 minutes a day on the treadmill down in my firm's health club at lunch time. And what did I get?

Stress relief - check
Time to clear my head - check
Some really amusing time with the BBC crew of Trading Rooms - check
Lost 3.5 punds - check and double check and an around the world and back SNAP!

3) I'm learning to recognize when I'm truly hungry and when I am just stress eating.

I never could get my brain around this with the FLEX program of WW. But with CORE the only way you monitor food intake, is to eat half your food, stop for 5 minutes and ask "Am I really still hungry?". There is no tracking, ie writing down every morsel of food that passes my lips. That approach just made me OBSESS about food. WOW, listening to your body.....what a RADICAL concept.

So to wrap up, especially for my dear friend Wen. Sometimes change is slow, sometimes it is radical, but yes it can happen.

St. Patty's Party

In 25 words or less

4 pounds each brisket and salmon
10 pounds of potatoes
3 cases of beer
12 good friends
Fire pit
No bail required
Rockin Good Time!

And now for the expanded version!

I worked like a dog getting our house put back together the day of the party since my good friends, Phil & Sharon were at my house to the wee hours Thursday night putting the finishing coats of paint on our family room.

I cooked the brisket overnight in the crockpot after they left. Got up at the crack of dawn and reloaded my family room with all furniture and accessories, although the books got pared down considerably thanks to Sharon and her keep/donate/toss exercise with me.

Went to Costco on my lunch hour and got all necessary party supplies. Sent hubby to the grocery for more ice and more beer and chairs from the clubhouse.

Squeezed in my billable hours for the day. (GO ME!)

The green velvet cake was wicked rich and good.

Sharon's challah was supposed to look like a shamrock, she even painted it with a green tinted egg wash, alas it looked like, well uhhhmmm.....think prop for "Boogie Nights"

Only the adults got it and that was bad enough. Poor Sharon never heard the end of it.

The boys forgot their water balloon launcher which was a good thing cause I didn't feel like bailing anyone out of the pokey for bombarding my girlfriends ex's house which is a mere 100 yards from mine.

Let's just say, by the time 5PM rolled around this colleen was ready to raise a pint!

It's Friday..It's March 17th!!!

Let the games begin....WOOT!

T Minus 10 minutes and counting until I have a house full of guests arriving to celebrate the land of my husband's ancestors. (He be the one wearin the green 365 a year, having the most gorgeous green eyes on the face of the planet THANK you veddy much!)

On tap

Killians Red
Guiness
Harp

(Lordy we're going to have to find beds for people tonight)

On the groaning board

Salmon and Brisket with a bourbon, mustard brown sugar glaze
Mixed organic Spring Salad Mix (LOVE COSTCO) w/ mandarin oranges and craisins
"Loaded" mashed Potatoes with horseradish and green onions
Whole wheat bread
Challah (LOVE you Sharon)
and
GREEN Velvet cake.....yes GREEN, not red, GREEN...HEH!
(Love you Amy)

Oh and we have a water ballon launcher....the kids (read..the adults) love it. Plenty of woods to launch into.

I'll post more tomorrow, if I don't have to make bail!

The luxury package

Ahhhhhh.....bliss!

I swear I said that every night while falling asleep on vacation, the being on vacation part helped tons, but what really sealed the deal were these uber comfy fluffy pillows and feather bed and duvet that comprised "the luxury bedding package" at our hotel. It was liking being wrapped in a cloud, only without the reality of gravity...heh!

And the shower...oh my the shower.....it was one of those rainfall shower heads....sighhhhhhhhhhhh!

The experience spoiled hubby too and on the road home I was given marching orders by the hubby to go out and buy new bedding and shower heads to recreate the experience.

I LOVE it when he TELLS me I HAVE to buy stuff....WOOT!

So working off a tip from a girlfriend I hit Overstock.com and for under $200 the bedding and shower fixtures of our dreams will be winging their way to us this week!

No more counting sheep for moi!

Scrapbook on the Road

Here is the cover...in all it's imperfect glory!

I enjoyed working on this album more than any to date because I created it in real time and was able to capture all the funny, crazy, quirky, maddening things that happened.

So much better than waiting for film to be developed and then another couple of months until I felt "inspired".

I'll post more over at Scrapgal..enjoy!

I have returned

from DC...after 11 hours on the road, with an hour long detour in Greenville for DH to meander down memory lane, my bottom is numb, my brain is numb...corollation...perhaps??

I have a bazillion loads of laundry to do, my digital camera broke and we lost our guidebook ALL on the second day...

BUT (and that's a big BUT...not to be confused with my keister which is slightly smaller from all that walking thank you VERY much)

I also have

an amazing scrapbook created on the road thanks to last minute instructions from Wen

5 disposable cameras

3 rolls of film from my SLR

a card full of digital before it went belly up

and a lifteime of memories.

I slept like a baby, didn't go online once, left behind the worries and fears of my day to day life.

In short....I had an acutal vacation.

The first in at least 6 years.

I highly recommend it.

In one day

In one day we leave for Spring Break and our trip to DC...WooHoo!!

In one day the forecast in DC went from mostly sunny all week

to mostly rainy...GACK!

So I'm packing for the worst and hoping for the best.

DC baby.....tomorrow we roll!

Do the Palm Court Strut......

"...swing your butt.
Do the Palm Court Strut.
Swing your butt
Swing it to the left
Swing it to the right
Swing it to the one that you love all night
Swing your booty....all night long"

yeah BABY!

But sadly, somewhere along the way, I managed to raise a pair of prudes, not to be confused with a pair of prunes, although prunes and prudes seem to go together like Jack and Jill...but I digress.

Back to the setting

I play Co's Mardi Gras CD in the car with kiddos in tow yesterday

They LOVE CO.

When are we going to MG again???

When are we going to see J and Miss Co again?

Can I wear my beads to school?

Are we having King's Cake? I WANT the baby this year?

So on and so forth.

Then we get to the "Strut"

BamBam: Mommy....MOMMMY!!!! They said the "B" word

ME: B word...what B word?

Thumper: Mommy, (whispering) they said butt. That's a potty word.

Me: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Uhmmmm...why do you think that's a potty word?

Bambam: My teacher says so

Me (in my best Bill Cosby imitation) Riiiiiiiiiggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhttttttttttt

Me: Who's the mommy?

Boys: You!!! (duh??)

Me: Who makes the rules?

Boys: You!!!

Me: Have I ever told you "butt" is a bad word?

Boys: (looking at each other for confirmation) NO!!!

Me: So let's SING!!!!!

Do the Palm Court Strut.
Swing your butt
Swing it to the left
Swing it to the right
Swing it to the one that you love all night
Swing your booty....all night long

Amen and pass the King's Cake!

Laissez les bon temps

.............rouler

This is for you Co

Mardi Gras Memories (one year later)

I remember.............

Driving to NO to meet a girl and her family that I had only "met" through the net.

Hearing your strong sure voice guiding us as we crossed the bridge over Ponchatrain.

Hugging you for the first time and how it felt like it had always been.

Being enveloped in the spirit and the love that is family

Falling off my perch, poking a hole in my pants and bounching back for more.

Being lifted up, dusted off and offered solace (ie another libation)

Finding out that, family is not only what you are born into

But what you MAKE of it.

Laiseez les bon temps rouler mon cherie.

I'll be wearing my oyster and HOT sauce throw....ALL DAY for you tomorrow!

I HATE it when I'm right (sometimes)

Yep Sasha stopped, dropped and rolled.....crap.

I hate it for her. Although truth be told, her prospects for post amateur lucre are so much brighter than the days of say, Dorothy Hamill

Cause really the only games in town were Ice Follies and Ice Capades.

And if you weren't golden, you were gone. Back to the rinks to drum up a living coaching. Which isin't all bad and can be very rewarding, but really isin't all THAT!

But Brian Boitano was the one who changed all that. Why you might ask?

Because he shared the wealth. Coming off his gold, he formed his own show. Gone were the hokey cheesey acts of Follies and Capades. And stupid group numbers. And single one draw stars.

Hello lighting and mood and rockin music with LIVE bands and the ultimate skater's reward ARTISTIC CONTROL!!!

The skaters were given carte blanche to cut LOOSE, have FUN! Not concepts that were or are associated with the highly controlled and often stodgy world of amateur skating.

His show generated so much buzz, that it led the way to organized professional competitions.

Hello money! Hello entertainment! Hello life after amateur!

So while I'm sorry Sasha dusted her tushy. I also know she's going to be okay, more than okay really.

Cause she's got the IT factor and she's got options.

Those two things ARE golden!

Where I predict that Sasha Cohen

will ace the short and crap out in the long.

Everyone agonizes over the fact that she just isin't consistent enough to win the gold.

True on the gold front, but in the consistency arena

She is absolutely pitch perfect on consistency because she makes one HUGE error EVERY time.

And that's all it takes folks.

Buh bye warm GOLD with all it's endorsements and deals.

Hello cold, cruel not quite there Silver.

And lest you think I am a world class Beyotch, just know this breaks my heart because she is truly one of the most mesmerizing and lyrical skaters that I have EVER seen.

Even more so than Michelle Kwan

GASP....there I said it. And it's true.

Come to think of it, she and Michelle have a lot in common.

Unrealized potential.

I really, really want to be proven wrong on this one.

Our Passports have Arrived!!!

to the National Parks System!!

Thanks to Christi for cluing me on this little gem!

Washington DC is filled with National parks so I ordered these passports for the boys so they can start collecting stamps and cancellations as we visit each monument or attraction.

The passport is divided by regions of the country and provides a list of cancellation sites for each region along with mini history lessons for the region.

It's something they can take with them wherever we go in the US for the rest of their lives...cool stuff!

AND....we just got an email from our congressman last week giving us all of our reservations for the different tours, so I've been working on finalizing our itinerary.

The countdown begins.......only 11 more days!!!!

What is Wrong with this picture?

I looked at my post below on SrapGal and realized it read like a laundry list

When did I start measuring my worth as a

1) to do list

2) a multi tasker

3) Super Woman

Because seriously....there is very little ME time in the day that was to be my "day off" detailed in depressing and excruciating detail below

Where...why...when.... did I lose me?

***********************************************

WOOT! Play dates were lined up for both boys (oldest DH and his buddy at my house), so I have accomplished the TWELVE TASKS

1) Return and remix of paint for family room (that took an HOUR!)

2) All 2005 finacial records sorted and stored and boxed for tax prep

3) Photos from 2004 forward, sorted and stored

4) Annual OB/GYN appt (DH home at lunch to tag in)

5) THREE loads of laundry done and put away

6) Bills paid

7) Check book balanced

8) One mini album and 6 layouts done ( I LOVE Scrapworks!!)
For those who want to know...this took 2 hours...no really...TWO hours

9) Dinner made, dished and cleaned up and tomorrow's dinner in the fridge ready to be dropped in the crockpot by DH at lunch tomorrow.

10) Lunch for me and snacks for DS' packed

11) SHOWER time (nuhnuhnuhnuh...nuhnuh......nuhnuh...break it down)

12) Kids asleep, dog asleep, mommy following closely behind.

Ice Follies

Today I took my two boys to the ice skating rink for a birthday party.

Yes... that would be me, little miss former ice princess, lacing up rentals (oh the horror!) because I couldn't find my custom boots in the abyss that is our basement.

And then moving on to lacing up the boots of my two boys and 6 other children because it was a drop off party and I'm a sucker and I said I'd help.

Actually someone narked on me and told the birthday host mom that I was a former competitive skater and she begged me to stay and help.

Yes, the operative word is "former" as in I haven't laced up a pair of skates in 15 years.

So I took a deep breath before setting blade to ice and I prayed...hard.

"Please God....don't let me fall on my ASS!" (I am a firm believer in brevity and specificity when talking with the Great I AM)

And let me just say...God is GOOD!

I was a little tentative at first, but even with crappy rentals and 15 years of neglect to the muscles and timing and posture....it all came back.

I was able to help a bunch of the kids (including my own) skate a little more confidently.

And by the end of the session I was spinning and my forward and backward strokes were good and solid.

BamBam even asked if we could come back on Monday because we had the day off.

I think I may have to search the basement a little harder for that link to my past.

A Multi Tasking Revelation!

Yeah baby!

I have this new crockpot cookbook, called Not Your Mother's Slow Cooker Cookbook

LOVE it!

I predict a heavy rotation in the week-day meal planning since I've shifted my schedule (sheduuuuule...as the folks across the pond would say) working until 2:30 four days a week starting next week.

I really like this one along with my Donna Pye America's Best Slow Cooker Recipes because there's lots of tips about prep the night before and adding things in the last hour so it tastes and looks FRESH!

Anywhoo...so while contents of said crockpot bubble happily away, you can bake rice in the oven to go along with said dish.

So there is time to

1) Help kids with homework

2) pay bills

3) do laundry

4) or my personal favorite....blog or surf the net!

WOOT

here's how the deed is done.

Preheat oven to 350

Spray a 4 quart casserole with lid with Pam

Combine

3 3/4 c. broth (Guess what! Those boxes of broth you can get at the grocery store? Guess the measurement...no really guess!! okay never mind...you figured it out...yes spot on...weehoo!)
2 cups converted rice
1 tablespoon oil

Stir to combine.

Stick in oven. Walk away for 40 minutes. Fluff rice with fork. Replace lid. It will hold for another hour in the oven turned off!

(and for all you sassy singles out there.....bag it in 1 cup portions in ziplocs and freeze. Sassy singles need multi tasking tips too!)

YES....see I am a simple girl with simple needs.

Anything that streamlines my lifestyle and gives me more time for the important stuff....well THAT is a good thing!

My Ten Favorite Sounds

Stole this from Corrie

Thanks for the inspiration girl!

1) The sound of a good hard down pour lulling me to sleep

2) The snap of a sail as it tacks into the wind

3) The sharp swish of a blade on glassy ice

4) The crunch of new fallen snow under foot

5) The pounding drumbeat of the ocean's surf

6) The call of a hawk to it's mate

7) A sigh of contentment

8) The squeal of delight from my boys when they see Jake, the wonder dog, in the back seat of the car during carpool

9) The clug, clug percolating sound of coffee brewing

10) silence!

Houston...we are go for primer

YES!

The walls (aka ancient disgusting panlelling) are primed, and the trim...and the trim...and the trim.

As DH so succinctly put it....this whole #$%#^#$ room is trim work.

But it's bright and white and PRIMED!

Now if my girlfriend would just call me back from her week long "jaunt" with hubby and tell me who the blankety blank blank makes

D'anjou Pear

We'll be good to go!

T minus ten and counting!

Can you tell I'm a little loopy from the smell of oil primer?

Geesh, and I was wearing a bloody ventilatition mask.

AND woohoo, yay ME! I managed to throw veggies and gound beef in the crockpot in the morning, so there was soup for dinner!

Women? Weaker sex? I think NOT!

Home Improvement

The PLAN was to paint the family room this week-end.

Which means

Saturday

10:00AM

Run to Porter Paints to get D'Anjou Pear

Porter Paints doesn't make D'Anjou Pear

10:30 a.m.

Call girlfriend who is making painted floor canvas for family room to ask where, if not Porter Paints, did she get the paint samples, since I asked her to use Porter Paints

Girlfriend is out of town for a week.

Go to Plan B

11:00 a.m.

Run to Lowe's for a quick pick up of paint prep supplies

There is no such thing as a "quick pick up" of paint prep supplies.

12:00 pm

Go to grocery store to get ammonia to make solution to scrub down ancient panelling, as recommended by nice Lowe's paint department worker.

Scour shelves in cleaning aisle for 10 minutes. Ammonia is at the bottom. It's only 88cents. So I buy some tortilla chips since I don't think I can debit card 88 cents and I have no cash.

12:30

Make PBJ's and toss on plate with tortilla chips (Yay Mom!) to ravenous children. Toss wet laundry from washer to dryer.

1:00pm

1) Wash down panelled walls circa 1961,with ammonia/hot water solution.... oooooh...ick....gah!! How can the walls be THAT dirty???

1:30 pm

Stop what I'm doing to wrap present for youngest son to take to birthday party in 15 minutes. Youngest DS and DH depart for party.

1:45 to 2:30 pm

4) Begin to tape off all the windows and trim and doors. And WOOT....I "invented" a cool quick method to do this, it involves sharp blades. I also now have a small wound and a pretty Sponge Bob bandaid. Put it works...really!

2:30 to 2:45

Change my holey, ratty clothes and throw some make-up in the general direction of my face to make myself "presentable" for birthday party pick-up.

2:45

5) Leave to pick up youngest DS from birthday party since DH is at a county required little league coaching clinc.

3:15

Arrive back home. Change back into holey, ratty clothes.

Finish taping off all the windows.

5:00

Now I am exhausted and it's too late to start painting with an oil based primer which will stink to HIGH heaven and needs at least 6 hours to vent out of the room so we all don't end up loopy in lala land.

And we need to eat. To tired to fix dinner. Cottage cheese and mandarin oranges it is!

You get the picture.

Tomorrow we might actually get the primer on the walls.

YAY us!

And note to self....while I love "While You Were Out" ain't no way they do what they do in 48 hours without a MINIMUM 1 month of prep work.

Goodnight & Godspeed Gracious Lady

Yesterday I sat and watched the funeral of Coretta Scott King that was held here in Atlanta.

And all I can say is when I pass on, I want my family and friends to gather and remember me (on a much smaller scale of course) the way she was remembered yesterday.

It was a true celebration of her life and calling.

Laughter and tears mixed together as four presidents, religious and civil rights leaders and family, friends all eulogized this great lady and the music, oh my word the music! There had to have been at least 10 different choirs singing, all of it moving, spiritual, deep.

As I sat and listened to speaker after speaker pay tribute to this woman, I learned so much about her as a woman, a mother, a friend, a quiet woman of force, a true "steel" magnolia.

I owe her and her husband a debt of gratitude for their impact on my life because the civil rights movement was about equality for ALL, not just the back minority and I think that message caused a social reordering that spilled over and empowered the womens rights movement of the 70's.

Coretta's legacy for me is not that she was merely the wife of a great man, although that role was one of great importance. It was that she continued on with her husband's work and vision, when I think personally, I would have withdrawn from public life.

So thank you Mrs. King.

Thank you for your part in helping me have all the opportunities I have today.

Thank you that you never, ever stopped trying to bring about the realization a better world.

Thank you for making a difference.

Goodnight and Godspeed.

Super Bowl Sunday

Yes folks, it's here......the long awaited EXCUSE to watch the most clever and humorous commercials of the year...WOOT!

Me, myself and I have been spending the last 7 hours enduring Thumper's plaintitve whines of:

"Are we going to the party YET? How many more hours? Is it time yet? I'm boooooorrrrrrrreeeeddd!!!!!"

Meanwhile, I'm dressed in black and gold...I'm pulling for the Steelers (really....black and gold is what's clean in my closet)

Longhorn Caviar is chillin in the fridge

And we're T minus 2 hours and counting until we splash down at the cul de sac where the Friday Zoo Crew awaits.

I have been a bad little blogger

I can't believe I have gone almost a week without blogging....I blame it ALL on the 7 day process that is known as birthday week insert WOOHAH here!) or the lingering effects of Saturday night.

Read on.

I am still in total shock from Saturday.

Take note ladies and gentlemen, that after 18 plus years of marriage my husband, STILL manages to surprise me.

Remember the little bit about the wine bar on Saturday night?

I am so excited! I have on my flirty little black fringed skirt and peasant top and killer boots and I beepop (yes beepop) into the wine bar and head for my customary place on the cushioned banquet filled with sumptious pillows, plop myself down and hubby says

"Oh honey look. We can't sit here. All the seats are reserved. See the little placecards?"

"HUH????? In the what what??? It's MY birthday...that is so not RIGHT!"

Flounce to beautifully carved mahongany bar "Well guess THIS will have to do" Plop...slight pout

Life is not fair sometimes, even on your birthday. So there we sit, me consoling myself by munching on a cheese plate and crab cakes and salad.

Ahhhhhhhhhh yes....the Salad.

That would be the bartenders salad. He let me eat all of the little marinated onions out of his salad before he started because he saw me polish off all of hubby's in 5 minutes flat. And well cause (throwing hands in air and squealing) "It's MY birthday!

And well, we're regulars and did I mention I had a really cute little flirty fringed skirt with killer boots to match?

Note...... I'm not pouting as much now.

Back to my oblivious munching and drinking of very good Pinot Noir. After about an hour, I'm talking to hubby and look over his shoulder to see a PROCESSION.

And in the procession who to my wondering eyes should appear.... but 15 of my closest friends (my Friday Zoo Crew) filing into the restaurant shouting "Happy Birthday" at the top of their lungs.

A PROCESSION I say ...cause I'm the QUEEN and every QUEEN needs a procession...dang SKIPPY!

I turn to hubby. He smirks, then grins. DAMN, I love that man.

And yeah, the reserved signs on the tables where I couldn't sit?

Yes...those would be for MOI!

I blushed. I cried. I laughed...hard.

More people arrived throughout the night.

I was showered with cards and presents and love and food and FRIENDS.

Postcript

Sometimes when times seem their darkest, a warm light shines that just bathes you in love and comfort.

Saturday night was one of those nights.

And I'll hold it in my heart forever.